#was trying to read a fic the other day and author mentioned his red hair and i was like what? and then remembered

[gabriestat]

still crazed about how much like a painting this shot looked

[avocado-writing]

pairing: logan howlett x afab!reader. 18+, minors dni. angst; smut (p in v unprotected sex; handjob - logan receiving; oral - reader & logan receiving). canonically bisexual reader. mentions of pregnancy attempts. dp+w movie spoilers.

synopsis: in the Void, after leaving the other dead in your own timelines, you and Logan are reunited.

words: 8.5k.

notes: this was inspired by not your man by @studioghibelli and the worst logan by @coweye! please go and read both these fics and show their authors some love, they are both incredibly talented writers who deserve it! dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕

The past couple of days have been a lot. 

To be honest, anything that isn’t sitting at a bar drinking the place dry is a lot to Logan nowadays. He’s used to low lights, rumbling conversation around him, the fuzzier end of consciousness. Even now he aches for a drink, knowing he’ll have to wake up sober next to the asshole in red he spent the night putting down in that fucking minivan. 

He hopes, at least, he has been met with all the surprises that this place can afford him. 

Ah. But that’d be too fucking easy, right?

That Cajun bastard’s liquor sits comfortably in the cradle of his palm and he chases away lucidity one swig at a time. Tries to block out the half-baked plan Wade is concocting with the other poor bastards who have been stuck here, even if it’s all probably pointless. He only chimes in to laugh at their hope. 

Then Elektra turns, withering pity in her eyes, and seems to properly assess him for the first time. 

“They’re gonna be so disappointed when they see you.”

“Who?” he snorts, past the point of caring that he’d disappoint anyone. It’s then that Elektra hits him like a fucking freight train with just one word spilling from her lips: your name. 

Logan feels a flood of memories come back to him. Ones he’s spent too long trying to drink away. The early morning when you’d hide under the blankets together, your hand cradling his face and letting the whole world consist of just the two of you. The stolen kisses in quiet corridors so the students at the mansion wouldn’t catch you and start silly little rumours. 

Him holding your lifeless body in his arms surrounded by the rubble of what used to be your bedroom, your powers unable to save you. 

He doesn’t have anything to say, merely spitting vitriol to anyone who tries to speak to him, even that damn kid who still prefers the other dead Logan to him. Why wouldn’t she? He’s a fucking mess, worth less than nothing, and that Logan was a hero. 

He retreats in the evening to lick his wounds or, hopefully, drown them. People keep trying to fucking talk to him and he does not want it. Yet they’re fucking relentless, like the Void is perfect at creating gut punch after gut punch for him. Laura walks away into the darkness after successfully making him feel like shit - not that it’s difficult these days - and when he hears more footsteps he assumes it’s Wade coming to harass him about tomorrow. 

“Oh, will you fuck off - ?” he snarls, but the sight of you there, half lit by a dying fire with orange dancing on your skin, oh, it just kills any venom he can muster dead in his throat. 

Logan is looking at a ghost and he has never been less prepared for anything in his long, long life. 

Your mouth has fallen open into a soft “o” as you look at him, brows knitted together as you take in every imperfect aspect of his being. 

“Lo?” you whisper. Your voice hasn’t changed. 

“Logan,” he replies, gruff, unsure if he’s confirming or correcting. But fuck does it sound good to hear his name out of your mouth again, even if it’s just a syllable. 

You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear and take a seat on one of the logs which has been pulled up as a makeshift bench. He tries not to watch the way the fire lights up your eyes. There’s an agonisingly long pause before you finally attempt conversation.  

“Long time no see, huh?” you ask with a weak grin. Fuck. It’s like a dagger. Your humour was always something which endeared you to him. Unlike Wade you never took it too far, cultivating your sincerity with your silliness in order to grow yourself into peoples��� hearts. 

His heart especially, and now it aches. 

He grunts, because he can’t bring himself to actually say anything. Can barely look at you. You keep talking, either not noticing or barrelling on regardless. 

“You know, when the gang said that you were here… I didn’t believe it. Thought there was no way a fucking Wolverine would fall into this place.”

“Let me guess,” he sneers, taking another long drag of bourbon, “I’m not what you expected.”

You laugh, an easy little thing, and part of him hates you for it. For reminding him of how it sounds. 

“I mean, you’re not. But not because of what you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” It comes out as a snap, lip curling back over his teeth in disgust. You do not look bothered in the least, just crossing one leg over the other and leaning back. 

“Because I know you, Logan. Knew my Logan too. Bet you’re spiralling, making yourself out to be some kinda disappointment. Well you’re not. You could never be.”

He desperately wants to argue but he simply doesn’t have the gumption. Besides, it’s nice to hear someone say something kind about him after all these years. 

“So,” you say after another one of those painful pauses, “considering every time you look my way you wince, you have a me in your timeline?”

He laughs without any humour in it, stares into the flames for so long they start to hurt his eyes. 

“Yeah. I did.”

“Ahh. ‘Did’. I died, then?”

You say it so flippantly, he can’t fucking stand it. 

“Mmm.”

“Makes sense. Don’t think I’d leave you in any timeline, so the only way I could see us ending would be if I wasn’t there any more.” You sigh, stretching your legs out to warm them. “Can I ask how it happened? Call it morbid curiosity.”

He absolutely does not want to talk about this. But, also… it’s you. Maybe not the you that was his, exactly, but it is you. Perhaps you deserve to know. He tries to stay dispassionate, as if he is a doctor quietly recounting the facts of death to a family member. 

“Mansion was attacked. Everyone died, including you. I wasn’t there. We’d had a fight, I went out drinking. When I got back you were gone.” He flexes his fist around the neck of the bottle, trying to avoid shattering it, but desperately needing to hold onto something. 

“Oh.” The fire crackles loudly. “What did we fight about?”

This will kill him. He will die in this Void. 

“You wanted to do another round of IVF. I didn’t want to be disappointed again.”

The words settle like a cloud of choking ash over the two of you. He takes a long drink. What a fucking failure he is, couldn’t even knock you up properly. 

“Fuck, Logan. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“Does it help if I tell you I probably wasn’t that mad? I’ve never been really angry with you, you know. My Logan… we used to bicker a lot, we both had short fuses, but it never meant anything in the long run.”

He doesn’t know if it does help or not. Is it better to know that you died hating him, making it easier? Or that you were snuffed out while loving him the whole time?

“Your turn,” he says, because he can’t bear to continue this particular line of conversation, but for some reason he wants to keep talking to you. Your voice is a comfort he thought he’d long since lost. 

“You wanna see a picture?” you ask, a grin pulling at the sides of your mouth. No, he doesn’t, but when you reach into your jacket to grab the photograph, he finds himself holding his hand out to take it. You slowly float it over, telekinesis absolutely unnecessary - but you always did use it to make the little things easier. 

It’s old. Frayed and disintegrating at the edges, a thing which has been held and looked at over and over again. Faded slightly despite the fact that you clearly try to take good care of it. 

“Oh,” he says, eyes widening. You chuckle. 

“I know.”

Because, despite the lack of facial hair and addition of a decent rack, the woman with her arm around you in the photo is him. 

The Logan in the picture is about as butch as they come, decked out in a Wolverine’s trademark flannel and leather. One of her arms is wrapped around you to keep you close against her, the other playfully flipping the camera off with a middle claw, and she’s laughing with a joy he hasn’t seen on his own face for years. You’re pressing a kiss into her cheek and hanging onto one of her thick biceps. The two of you exude happiness. 

“She was the best thing that ever happened to me. She could be a mean cunt sometimes, smoked like a chimney, drank like a fish, but fuck we were the centres of each other’s world.” You let out a long sigh and hold your hand out - Logan goes to give you the photo but instead you gesture for the bourbon. He passes it and you and you drink deeply, gratefully. “I’d been in a string of bad relationships. Guys who took me for granted, women who were toxic but I didn’t realise until I was in too deep. Then she came along and well… she was a fucking angel in plaid.” 

Logan’s thumb absentmindedly strokes the photo. He’s pretty sure there’s a near-identical one back in his timeline. 

“Our mansion was attacked too. She died getting the kids out.”

Fuck. Fuck. No, he can’t do this. He can’t face the way he should have died. He really is the fucking worst Wolverine. He snatches the bottle back from you, you give no resistance, and he polishes it off. The photo flutters to the ground. 

“I think it’s time you fucked off,” he growls out. You roll your eyes, fucking roll your eyes at him, something his version of you did on pretty much a daily basis, and the knife in his heart twists further. 

“Well, Logan, I’m not gonna do that. Because this conversation is the most whole I’ve felt in a long time, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way.”

He doesn’t. He does. He wants you to disappear forever. He wants to hold you close and kiss you, beg you never to leave again. He hates you. He loves you so, so much. 

He’s such a ruined man that it is laughable. 

“So what, I come along and just replace your little girlfriend? First Wolverine that you manage to get your hands on; is that what you’re hoping for?”

You bark out a laugh. It echoes around the trees. There are tears in your eyes when he turns to look. 

“Girlfriend? Logan, you were my fucking wife!” 

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that the laughter engulfs you, peals of giggles that double you over. You hold your head in your hands and it soon turns to bitter sobs. He wants to reach out and hold you, apologise for ever making you sad. He tries to get any lingering drops from the bourbon instead. 

“We got married at the mansion. Charles officiated. The kids made us cards. We didn’t get a honeymoon because we didn’t have the fucking time. We had five years. Five really happy years and you know what? We wanted a baby too. We were getting a donor lined up! And then when the attack happened you were the one getting all the kids out I begged you to come with us but you were too fucking good, you had to stay behind and make sure nobody followed us. And it cost you your fucking life. They ripped you apart Logan. I know because all I found of you was your head and your wedding ring. I didn’t even get time to mourn because I had a dozen children to fucking take care of! And I did because I knew that’s what you’d want me to do. It’s what you died for. So I lived in the fucking woods with all of them for years, and they were my family, and I made sure they were as safe and happy as I could make them. And you know what happened then? When they were all grown? A fucking TVA agent appears out of nowhere and tells me, ‘oops! Sorry! Your Logan wasn’t supposed to die, it was meant to be you!’ So they fucking throw me in this hellhole to rot away into nothing and I’m sorry, Logan, I’m sorry that when I heard you were here I got my fucking hopes up that you might be happy to see me, because if there was one person who understood all of the shit I’m going through then it might be you.” You throw your head back up to stare him dead in the eyes. “And it’s pathetic because you know what? Even after all this? I’m still not angry with you. I’m still happy you’re here. Because seeing you makes me feel better, despite everything.”

It’s a long-ass rant, and your words hang in the air after you’re done. He doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? He opens his mouth to apologise but the words just won’t come out. Because, yeah, if he really dissects himself and looks at the parts laid bare, he’s glad you’re here too. 

He reaches down to rescue the photo before an ember lands on it, gingerly extending into you. When you take it back his fingers brush yours. He wishes he wasn’t wearing gloves. 

“Who was the donor?” he asks eventually. That does a lot to alleviate the mood, and you smile through tear-streaked cheeks. 

“You might not like the answer.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, don’t tell me it was Scott.”

“The two of you got on okay! Butted heads a lot but he was always a good friend to us. Plus it was cheaper than going through an agency.”

He growls to himself and it makes you laugh, but properly this time. Things have started to soften and it’s… nice. To be like this with you again. You pause for a moment, stuck on whether to ask a question; hesitate over whether it’s a good idea, then barrel on regardless. 

“Can I ask a weird question?”

“You’re dangerously close to sounding like Wade,” he replies. You groan at that idea. 

“Ugh. Fucking Deadpools, man. We get one come along every now and then and trash the place before fucking off again. Apparently there’s like, a tribe of them out there somewhere.” You give a full-body shudder. “Imagine. No, it’s nothing like that, I guess. Can you… can you take off your glove? Left one.”

He has a horrible feeling about this but when you ask so nicely, that air of vulnerability around you, well it just seeps into his fractures and breaks him open. It takes a moment but he does, flexing his bare hand in the cool air. 

You reach around your neck and pull at a thin chain he’d barely noticed. The ring at the end slides up from where it’s been resting on your sternum under your shirt, glinting as you remove it. 

“Give me your hand.”

This is a bad idea. 

He does anyway. 

You slip the ring on his fourth finger, softly twisting it to fit over his knuckle as you go. It is the perfect size. 

“Will you look at that,” you mumble, not releasing your grip on him. “She… you always told me your hands were kinda big because of the claws. Like I cared. One of my favourite parts about you.”

Your fingers trace along his, finding the spaces between them and gently slotting your hands together. Logan isn’t sure if he’s the one who closes the grasp or if it’s you, but a beat passes and suddenly you’re holding hands. 

He’s not done this with you for so fucking long. An age of aching which is relieved at the feeling of your palm up against his. 

“So now what?” he eventually has to ask. You smile. 

“Well, I mean, your Deadpool is probably gonna get us all killed tomorrow…”

“Ugh. Don’t call him ‘my Deadpool’.”

“… so I’d quite like to just spend tonight holding your hand, if that’s okay. Seems like a pretty nice final night to me.”

When you hit him with those soft eyes, what other fucking choice does he have?

You don’t speak much for the rest of the night. Eventually the fire dies out. Laura comes to seek you out the next morning, and is surprised to find you lying side by side with this other Logan, the most deeply asleep she’s ever seen you, fingers laced together so tightly with his it looks like it might hurt. 

He comes to the fight, of course; dredging up what little courage he has left in him in order to prove he’s not totally pathetic. You catch his eye and smile so wide that he feels likes he’s done at least one good fucking thing in his life. He hears the sound of you ripping into people with an enthusiasm he hasn’t witnessed for years. The last glimpse of you he gets before he jumps through the portal is you using your telekinesis to tear a man’s head off and he does not want to examine himself too closely when it sends a jolt of arousal down his spine. 

They leave you all there to face the end, but everyone knew that’s what you were all getting into. There has been a net gain and loss of nil. He never had you again. Not really. Not for anything longer than a night, and maybe that will be enough. 

Yes. That’s enough. It has to be. 

When he tells Wade he’ll go into that room, when he volunteers to die, he does it with the knowledge he’ll be doing something good, finally. Something you’d be proud of him for doing. And with you waiting for him on the other end of oblivion it really doesn’t seem too bad a fate. 

But then Wade does what he always does and fucks up his perfectly meticulous plan, and they both make it through, so he has to keep going. 

When Wade asks the TVA agent to help the group of you they left behind, Logan is sure to add on that people should get the opportunity to go back to their timelines - surely it’s what you’d want (this oddly selfless request has Wade raising an eyebrow which he ignores). After all, why wouldn’t you want to go back? It’s where you belong. Where you’ll be happiest. Putting things nice and neatly back into their place after this whole fucked-up venture. 

He doesn’t have you, but he’s still alive and wants to be, and that’s something. A lot more than he’s had for a long time now to be honest. 

His life becomes this strange little thing that’s wrapped up with Wade’s. He sleeps on his pull-out sofa until he has somewhere proper to put down his roots. Tries to lay off the booze as much as he can even if each day is a fucking struggle. Makes steps towards finding a proper place for himself; even gets a job on the door at the bar across the street. It’s okay. One step at a time. He can put himself back together like that. 

Imagine his surprise, then, when a week later there’s a knock at the door. 

He assumes it’s Al who’s forgotten her keys, or is too drunk to fish them out of her purse after bingo, so opens it without really thinking. 

The second time you’ve nearly stopped his heart in seven days. 

“Hey,” you say. 

“Oh,” is what he can manage. You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. Your go-to. 

“Yeah. Sorry. I uh, followed you back, I suppose. The TVA were gonna send me home but I asked where you were and when the answer was ‘here’, well… didn’t make sense for me to be any place else.”

He blinks at you. After a beat of silence he can tell you hate, no doubt wondering if your choice was the wrong one, he lifts his hand to cup your face. You stiffen for a second and then nestle into his palm. 

“You’re real,” he states. You press your hand to his. 

“I am.”

He pulls you into his chest and you are more than willing to come. He feels the way you bury yourself into him, nose first, remembering what he smells like. Your arms wrap around him so tight it’s like you’re scared he will disappear when it should be the other way round: if anyone is dreaming it’s him. You bothered coming here for him. You uprooted your whole life for it. 

He could hold you forever but the neighbours are nosy and the apartment is a mess. He presses his mouth close to your ear. 

“Wanna get a coffee?”

You pull back to meet his gaze. 

“I’d love that.” Your eyes drop and you pull a face. “Oh, uhh, you might wanna get changed first, though.”

He looks down and realises what shirt he’s wearing before letting out a groan, which gets you chuckling. 

“Wilson’s letting me borrow his shirts until my first paycheck comes in. Just to slum around the apartment.”

“Oh, so you’re not ‘employee of the month at the dick sucking factory’?” You ask, reading the slogan on his tee.

“No. Looks like Wilson won out over me.”

The fact he’s made a joke hangs in the air for a moment and you burst into laughter, real actual laughter, and it’s the most beautiful fucking thing he’s ever heard.

He grabs the only plain shirt Wade has left out, slices off the sleeves just because, and grabs twenty dollars from his roommate’s wallet. Soon enough you’re sitting in the little café near his building. The sky is grey and overcast, just threatening to rain but not quite bothering, and the two of you are tucked away in a corner table while Taylor Swift plays over the sound system. 

Logan does not like that he knows it’s Taylor Swift. This is what living with Wade has done to him. 

You watch him with affectionate eyes across the table, making sure nobody is paying close attention before using your telekinesis to stir the little metal spoon around in your latte. You nod at his mug. 

“You take coffee the same way as she did. Boring and black.”

Logan’s nostrils flare a little in a laugh. 

“Yeah, and you take yours the same way too. So fucking dense with syrup that it’s not coffee at all.”

“Oh you were always such a coffee snob! ‘Babe you gotta try it plain first so you can appreciate the aroma’,” you say, putting on a gruff affectation as a parody of his voice. 

“You do need to try it plain f—”

He’s interrupted when a sugar lump floats into the air from the pot in the middle of the table and launches itself at him, bouncing off of his pectoral. He cocks an eyebrow. 

“Real mature, bub.”

“Grouch.”

“Contrarian.”

“I’m not a—” you pause, realising there’s no way to win against that accusation, and grin at him instead. 

“Where are you staying?” he asks after a long drink. It’s not booze. He kinda wishes it was booze. But also, he knows it’s best not to go down that path again, for everyone’s sake.

“The mansion. Turns out I died in this timeline too, so you and I are two for two here” - there’s a hint of a smile at your own macabre observation - “but they were using my room for storage so they just let me have it back.” You grimace a little. “It’s been weird. It’s my space but it’s not, y’know?”

“I get that.”

He probably gets it better than anybody. Nice to have someone to share this strange, singular feeling with. 

“You should come around. Laura’s there too, I know she’d be glad to see you too.”

“She settling in okay?”

“Yeah. It’ll take a while, but everyone has been really understanding and kind. I think she’ll thrive here.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

You give him a smile that lets him know you believe it. Your eyes cast over him, taking in this new, slightly more settled Logan, falling still when you see what’s pressed against his fourth knuckle. 

“You’re still wearing the ring.”

“Oh,” he replies, surprised. Flexes his fingers as he looks at it. It’s been so comfortable there, so utterly unobtrusive and right, he hasn’t even noticed. “You want it back?”

A beat passes as you consider the question. Coffee is sipped. Another sugar added and stirred, perhaps just for show. 

“I don’t know,” you settle on. “I kinda like seeing you wear it but… if you were gonna have my ring, I’d want it to be one that was meant for you.”

He lets that idea settle between the two of you. Suddenly, slowly, you’re reaching forward, laying your smaller hand over his thick, rough one. 

“Logan. I want to be with you. In every way you’ll have me, all of it. I don’t know if it was fate or god or plain luck that threw us back together but I’m certain I don’t wanna waste this opportunity. I’d love you in every lifetime, in every timeline. I can’t be without you ever again, I think it would just kill me - and if I know you, you feel the same.”

He doesn’t even bother arguing because he does. When you turned up on his doorstep a scant couple of hours ago a part of his soul had been healed; your existence like kintsugi to piece him back together. A man made of adamantium and gold. 

“I’d like that,” he manages. 

“Yeah?” Your eyes glimmer with a hope which he’s not been privy to for a long time now. 

“Yeah.”

“Well, okay then,” you say with a smile, and drink your coffee. 

The two of you do not take it slow. How does one take it slow when your soulmate comes back into your life? You are not exactly the same person he once knew, but you understand each other in every way which matters. Your souls fit together like puzzle pieces. The two of you are whole again. 

Then again, perhaps he doesn’t need the version of you he used to have. Maybe, now, he needs this you - rougher around the edges, a little older and more wary, a fit which is better for him. Someone who can put up with his bullshit as Al once bluntly put it. 

You barely spend a night apart. You stay over with him on Wade’s pullout (inciting an input of, “something the two of you had better do, we can’t afford a kid on my income—!” before Logan had hurled a water bottle at him) meeting up with him after his shift is done in the small hours, getting something to eat at one of the greasy spoons which remain open. He devours full plates of fatty food; you stick to slices of pie which you feed him bites of from your fork. When you get back to the apartment you cuddle up on the uncomfortable mattress which folds from the sofa and fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

He sleeps pretty well nowadays. 

The two of you only realise you haven’t kissed yet when you do it for the first time. You’re making a coffee run, tugging on his jacket because you like the smell of cigar smoke and it’s thicker than yours. A little act of intimacy which has become commonplace. 

“Same as usual?” 

“Mm-hm.”

“Boring,” you make an exaggeration of a sigh, before leaning over the back of the sofa to press your lips to his. He automatically leans into it, tilting his head up so that he can meet you; it’s a chaste little thing, a peck between two people who will only be parted for a moment, but you pull back in surprise when you realise what’s just happened. 

“Oh!” you say with delight, eyes sparkling.

Your hand slips around his neck to cradle him, fingers playing with the hair at his nape. You gently pull him back for another. Longer this time. Lips slip together, moving carefully in something a little deeper. When you break for a moment it’s Logan who pulls you back. This third kiss is on the brink of hungry. He slides his tongue to swipe against your mouth and you let out a happy little hum at the intrusion. 

His arm curls around your back. With a little tug he pulls you over the back of the sofa and into his lap, making you yelp with glee. His mouth returns to yours, crushing, greedy for any little noises you’re able to make. You relax into it and are happy to take whatever he gives you. 

Wade finds you making out on the couch like a pair of teenagers, coffee forgotten. He does not let Logan live it down for a week. 

The apartment is fine, but not a long term solution. Wade and Al are constant presences that stops the two of you being fully at ease together. Logan knows that invitation to go to the mansion is always there, but it’s a while before he takes it - he really isn’t sure what he’ll feel, being back at a place he last saw burned to the ground because of his pigheadedness. Might just break him all over again. 

But ah, when you nock your fingers in the spaces between his, he can face anything. 

One night, exhausted and full of diner food, he agrees to go back to yours - the two of you have had a late night coffee meaning you’re still a tiny bit buzzed, a little too much to fall asleep on the pullout. Instead you get a taxi to yours, near enough, tipping the driver well when he drops you in the middle of a random street and choosing to walk the last minutes hand-in-hand.

The mansion is quiet. Everyone is mostly asleep. And Logan does feel strange being back here, but it isn’t a bad strange. Just another aspect of this new life he has to compartmentalise. 

You drag him through low-lit halls, confident in the steps which will lead you back to your room; he recalls a similar journey from his own timeline in the night you first hooked up, smuggling him to your bed down the corridors all wandering hands and breathless kisses and giddy giggles; but there’s no part about you that wants to hide this. 

You’d show your Logan off to the world. 

You’ve tried to make the room your own, he can tell. It’s pretty big and spacious. Good view. Has an ensuite which he plans on monopolising. He shucks off his clothes and sleeps in just his boxers, arms holding you to him so he can feel every part of your body against his. His chest hair bristles between your shoulder blades and you hum contentedly. 

He agrees to come to breakfast the next morning and, to their credit, people are good at not staring. The members of the team he recognises from his past keep their distance unless he seeks to close it. Hank gives him a smile. 

“Good to see you, Logan.”

“Mmm,” he manages. Laura comes down to grab something to eat and lights up when she sees him. She gives him a hug which skews on the side of awkward but he’s grateful to receive it, and he can see how pleased you are watching this development. 

He comes around more and more often. 

Less time spent at the apartment with Wade - who constantly complains about the fact and Logan cannot tell if he’s sincere or not - more living in the pocket of you. He helps you sort out the furniture in the room so that there’s more space; you’re moving a chest of drawers to another corner together when a photo falls out from behind them. Trapped against the wall for years. Long forgotten. 

“Oh,” you say, lifting it up and bringing it to your hand with a wave. Your face twists into something strange and bittersweet, a mask Logan isn’t quite sure how to comprehend, but he quickly understands why when he joins you. 

It’s a picture of the two of you. 

Not exactly the two of you, of course; the ones of you who lived in this timeline. Logan is posing on the back of his Harley, you’re propped up on the seat next to him with your head thrown back in laughter. The two of you look… young. This must have been taken when you first started going out. 

Your thumb caresses the photo in a movement he’s familiar with. 

“Huh. Looks like we were together here, too. Who’da thunk it,” you mutter.

He slips an arm around you then because he’s feeling oddly sentimental. It’s reassuring. No matter what timeline it is, there’s a you who loves him and a him who loves you. A simple and irrefutable truth, like the fact that the sun rises every day or the moon moves the tides. 

“Apparently Magneto got me in the late noughties. Feels like a bit of a pathetic way to go, but diverging timelines, I guess.”

Logan knows that in this timeline, he stuck around for a while after. Poor bastard, he thinks. Having to live those years without you. That’s a misery he understands all too fucking well. 

But not any more. 

You leave the photo on your dresser, loathe to throw it away, and continue moving furniture to make room for the TV you just bought. Logan hates sharing the one in the living room, especially when the hockey’s on.

Eventually Logan is spending so much time with you he’s barely living at Wade’s any more. You’ve suggested they’d be happy to have him back in the mansion for a “teaching job” like you have, though he knows there’s never much teaching involved, more helping kids learn to defend themselves without too much collateral damage. Still it’s a fair chunk of change better than his current miserable doorman’s salary and it means he’d be living at more sociable hours.

Plus he’d get to move in with you, an idea you’re both secretly happy about. 

So he hands in his notice at the bar and packs the scant few belongings he has at Wilson’s into a cardboard box from Bad Dragon, which is strangely the only one Wade could find him (“god Peanut that’s so weird, oh well!”). Looks around the apartment he’s called home for some time, feels not entirely pleased to be leaving it. 

“And remember sweetie, if it all goes incredibly wrong and you realise the place you’ve belonged the whole time is on my undoubtedly piss-soaked pull out sofa bed, Al and I will be happy to have you back with minimal taunting.”

Logan fixes him with a look. 

“Wilson?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” The word is odd coming from his mouth but not insincere. Wade goes to say something that’s no doubt stupid and inappropriate, however he softens at the last moment. 

“Any time. Go get ‘em, tiger, I’m rooting for you.”

You’ve moved your stuff so he can have a side of the closet, and drawers in the dresser, and he resumes his life with you. 

It takes only a couple of days for him to settle and realise how much he prefers this. Living with you properly. How, really, he couldn’t stand to be apart from you. How he wants to be there for every second, hear every laugh which drips from you, comfort you whenever something threatens to ruin your happiness. 

He falls asleep with you wrapped in his arms every night. Wakes up with you there. Pretty fucking perfect if you ask him. 

There’s nothing special about the morning when you first make love except for the fact it’s the morning when you first make love. It’s a border the two of you haven’t quite crossed yet. Almost as if you’re both afraid to make the commitment, like it may break you apart; there’s perhaps an underlying fear that you’re being unfaithful to your partners from your own timelines. That being together like that dishonours their memory. 

It’s a salve, then, that the longer you’ve been together the more you realise that you don’t love each other as a stand-in for the ones who died, but entirely on each other’s own merits. He doesn’t look at you and see the body he held in the manor. He sees someone who he’d protect, give his life to, become a dog for because he’s utterly in love with this you, the one who was so happy to find him in the Void, the one who patched him back together when he was at his most broken. 

There’s nothing to second guess in this relationship. It is the most solid foundation he’s ever had, and from the way you look at him every morning as if he’s hung the stars, you feel the same. 

That morning he’s holding you particularly tight. It’s a Sunday, the quietest day at the mansion, and the two of you are in bed later than you’d usually be. You’re both awake because you’re pressing more and more into each other’s bodies, nestling together like nesting dolls. His arm slung around your waist, hips against the swell of your ass. 

You shift slightly and he feels his cock harden in interest. Why wouldn’t it? Most beautiful person in the whole world right here in his bed. He might be old but he’s not a fool. 

He’s aware your hips are moving again, pressing yourself into him harder. He lets out a quiet, gruff laugh. 

“You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Mmm, maybe I am, Howlett. What are you gonna do about it?”

You squeak with laughter as he surges upwards, pinning your hands to the mattress either side of your head so that he can look down at you. Such a pretty picture beneath him. Hair all fanned out, eyes sleepy and sexy, ready to take in the syrupy-slow pace of the morning. 

His lips press into yours softly but firm. You hum into the kiss, slipping your wrists from his grasp so that you can wrap your arms around his broad neck and tug him closer. Your legs slowly match pace, looping at his waist. His cock is free to press against your clothed core now and he doesn’t waste a second of the opportunity; he grinds down, never letting it distract from the kiss for a second, even smiling into it when he can feel the blunt head of his dick catch your clit. You gasp. 

“Logan…”

Oh yes, that’s it. That’s the voice. He could listen to you say his name a million times and it would still be the sweetest sound in the whole fucking universe. 

He kisses you again and again, getting more fierce now. Tongues slide together and you moan into his mouth. Teeth clack with the force of it. He wants every sense to be drowned in you. Your smell, your taste, your touch. You’re holding him so tightly it’s like you’re worried you’ll just float away from the bliss of it all.

He’d never let that happen. He’ll keep you right here in this bed, forever, if you’d let him. 

With a display of telekinesis he’s not expecting, Logan finds himself on his back. You stare down at him with wide, hungry eyes, and he’s never been more turned on in his entire life. 

“Can I suck your cock?” you ask breathlessly, and he finds himself huffing out a laugh because fuck, as if you’d ever have to ask. You take his meaning and giggle before you start to make your way down the plain of his chest. A kiss dropped on the top of his pectoral, followed by you moving that sweet mouth around one of his nipples to play with it. Logan huffs and arches into your touch like a schoolgirl. You use your teeth to continue the trail, tracing around his abs - which have become less pronounced ever since he started eating right, and you’ve often expressed your pleasure at this fact - mouthing at where his muscles shape his Apollo’s belt. 

Your hand goes to palm his cock through his boxers and he has to make a concentrated effort not to come. It’s been a while since he was touched properly like this, and though he used to be able to go all night when he was a younger man, he truly doesn’t know if he has it in him today.

You seem delighted by this development though. Holding his gaze you slowly drag his waistband down to his thighs, watching in delight as his cock bobs up, half-hard. You take him in hand and pump him lazily, languidly, enjoying every stroke which makes him firmer. You prop yourself up on your free arm, elbow on the mattress and palm cradling your jaw, eyes on him like he’s the show of the century.  

“Handsome, handsome, handsome man,” you sigh, dreamily. 

“Old man,” he chuckles. 

“Not mutually exclusive.”

He has to concede that with the way you’re looking at him like you might eat him alive.  

When he feels your mouth around his cock his brain almost short-circuits. It’s warm and wet and willing, your tongue gliding along the thick vein you find there before caressing his head. Logan grunts, fisting the blankets, and a familiar snik has you looking up. You grin around his shaft when you see his claws have popped out from the intensity of his gripping hands. 

Pleased, you continue with your work. You bob up and down as the fire builds in his belly, a low heat which is soon bubbling over when he feels you press the tip of your tongue into his slit, humming with pleasure as the taste of his pre floods you. Logan is aware he’s beginning to tighten in a way which suggests that if you don’t stop now things will be over entirely too soon.

Claws retracting, his hand comes to grab your hair. His cock is enveloped in the sweet velvet of your throat, in fact he can feel himself brush against your uvula, and when you look up at him like that he almost gives up completely. He powers through though, carefully guiding you up and off. You wipe your spit-soaked mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Oh… was it not…?” you don’t voice the word ‘good’ but it hangs there anyway. Logan rumbles with a laugh.

“Fuck, it was the best thing I’ve felt in years. Wanna fuck you properly, though. Come up here and sit on my face, baby. Need to taste you.”

Your eyes go wide. Like he’s come up with the idea of the century.

“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

There is nothing elegant about the way you pull yourself up the length of his body, but it is filled with a primal need which is far more sexy. You pause at his abdomen in order to rub your soaked cunt across his abs a couple of times. Fucking the muscles there. You throw your head back in gratification and continue up along his chest before a strong thigh is planted either side of his face.

Looking up at you from his back is his favourite view. Logan wastes no time in clamping an arm around either one of your legs and pulling you cunt-first onto his tongue, you gasp and writhe in delight.

“Oh fuck, Logan!” you hiss. Yeah, that’s it. That’s the voice he wants to hear. All strung out with sex and pleasure because of him. He fucking buries himself in you. Kisses your pussy sloppily, changing his attention from between your clit and your folds, no rhythm to his need. When your fingers scratch his scalp in your need to grab a fistful of hair he thinks he might be in heaven. His hips buck into the air, imagining the action of taking you before he’s even properly started. You start to fuck yourself on his face. Hips grinding down onto his beard, groaning at the stubble there which prickles and pleases.

“I’m gonna--”

“Fuckin’ do it,” he mumbles from between your legs. You cum in his hot, wanting mouth; all the furniture in the room rattles as you let out a little involuntary telekinetic jolt.

You are not done. This was the appetiser. Eyes still ravenous you peel your pussy off of his face, sweeping down to kiss him so you can taste yourself there. Moaning in delight at the musk.

“Wanna ride you…”

“Anything,” he breathes because, yeah. He will do anything you ask, anything you want. He’s a loyal hound at your heel. 

When you take his cock it’s with less teasing this time, more intent. Spreading your legs wide you line him up with your entrance and slowly sink down. He wants to grab. Your flesh, the blankets, anything. Sensing his desperation you hold out your hands when he’s far enough inside you and he meets them in midair, pressing his fingers between yours, knuckles white from the effort.

Hips nestle against his. You begin to move.

“Logan…” 

Your name leaves his lips in a similar whisper, dragged out through his throat from his very heart. You look down at him, eyes clear and wide and lucid despite the heady pleasure.

“Logan. I love you. I love you.”

Yes, you love this him. Not as a stand in for the Logan you lost, not as some sort of idol on a pedestal, but because you’ve fallen for him just like he’s fallen for you. He is worth loving. He is. He is worthy of you. It is a realisation which hits him with the force of a bomb. He grips you tighter.

“I love you too,” he confesses. He feels his pulse sync with yours from where he’s sheathed inside you, grips your hands tighter because he knows you can take it; you hold him back just as hard. Your hips rock in a wild rhythm as he brings his own up to meet them. It’s hard to know who’s fucking who, it’s wild and desperate and raw, but you keep chanting those words as a manta.

Logan. I love you. Logan. I love you.

He only lets go of one of your hands when he can feel he’s about to finish, dropping it to your clit in order to press rough circles there. You come messily over his cock and he spills inside you, pumping you full of him. Marking you as his.

You collapse into his arms, sweaty and spent. He holds you with arms like iron. Cock still inside, softening now, but he doesn’t want to to break the contact.

You pull back after a moment of breathing together, propping your elbow on his chest.

“Hey.”

He smiles back, a real smile, something he’s not been truly able to produce for years.

“Hey.”

“I meant it, you know. I love you,” you trace a pattern on his collarbone, silly and intimate. 

“I know. So did I.”

“Mmm, okay, good.” You kiss him and hum into it. “We should get up.”

“Probably.”

“But let’s not.”

“Sounds fuckin’ good to me.”

You laugh, and oh you are the sunlight. 

The summer heat is cloying but Wade has set up some parasols on the top of his building to hide under, he did not specify where he got them but a few local restaurants seemed to be without on the journey back to the apartment. The group of you are definitely not meant to be up here, but with the weather so hot, nobody cares enough to cause a fuss. 

It’s a small gathering. Logan stands at the grill because it’s where he’s most comfortable, supervising the chaos. That awful mutt of Wade’s is looking up at him with expectant eyes and, when he’s sure nobody is watching, he throws her a hamburger which she goes crazy for. 

And it’s… nice. He didn’t even complain when Wade put on the 1989 album. A few of his old roommate’s friends, a couple of them now mutual - Piotr is a pretty relaxed guy to be in the mansion with, and the two teens who Wade somehow befriended get along with Laura. You’re talking with Peter who for some reason is always at these gatherings but he’s probably the least offensive person here. 

He says something which makes you laugh, and you look over to Logan as you both settle. You gesture at the bottle of soda in your hand, an invitation; he nods. 

You stand, rummage in the cooler, and close the gap. He eyes the glass bottle of Dr Pepper with disapproval; you give him a playful shove. 

“C’mon, be good. You just got your one month chip. Keep it up, we’re proud of you.”

He grumbles his acceptance and takes it. It is pretty refreshing to be fair. He settled the hand he’s not using on the grill around your waist, pulling you so that you settle nice and snug against his flank. You grin up at him, pleased with the show of affection.

“Hey handsome,” you chuckle. 

“Hey gorgeous.”

“You make me the happiest I’ve ever been, you know that?”

Day by day he’s letting himself believe it. That he’s the kind of man who could make someone as amazing as you happy, as over-the-moon with joy as you make him. 

Before he can answer Yukio appears by the grill, pointing a Polaroid camera in your faces. 

“Smile!” she says, and the two of you do, because she’s a nice kid and you don’t wanna let her down. She snaps a photo and watches it quickly develop, shaking it loudly in the air before admiring her work. 

“Awww, cute! I hope me and Ellie are like you guys when we’re your age. Here ya go!”

She passes over the photo before skipping away to find her next victim. Logan has to try and hide a laugh at the indignant splutters that are escaping you. 

“Our age…?!” you mutter, but soften when you look down at the picture. It’s nice. The two of you make a good-looking pair that’s for damn sure, he can almost understand Wade’s insistence of “letting him watch one night”. But most importantly, the two of you look… happy. With each other. With this slice of life. 

“This is a great one,” you declare. 

“Yeah,” he says, but he’s looking at you. 

When you get home tonight, late by the time you pull up to the mansion, you’ll toe off your shoes as you walk in through the door like you always do, but this time you’ll pause to put this photo in front of the one you found behind the chest of drawers, and Logan will feel content that he never has to be without you again. 

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk

[ladyelissarose]

I love your fics! Can i please have a Miguel O'hara x Fem Reader where she bumps into a abusive ex and she gets scared/uncomfortable. So Miguel being the protective and territorial person he is steps in and handles the situation (maybe even fights the guy), and Miguel gets all sappy and soft letting her know he loves her and will protect her always. Fluff plzUwU

‘Protector’

Miguel O’Hara x girlfriend reader

Warnings; 4k!! mentions of abusive ex, sad flashbacks that involve some violence. Like *Choking and screaming* Little bit of angst, panic attacks mentioned too. But I squeezed in more fluff than y’all can imagine! Please be careful with what you want to read. Enjoy

Summary; after not being in a relationship for over a few months, you start to try again with an adorable scientist, Miguel O’Hara. Overall he seems very sweet and kind at the start of your growing relationship, but you can’t help but worry he might be like you ex. Until one day he proves to be the total opposite.

Author’s note: Hiiii love!!! Thank you for this request!! I’m so happy I got one! So I hope this meets your expectations, let me know :) much love and hugs!!

Diing Diing!

The clanking bells alarmed you that a customer had just walked into the large 3-story library you work at in New York City. A smile went up your face as you waved and greeted a couple of college girls who passed by with smiles and their little coffees.

This library in particular was special to you, it had a great view of the magnificent city, many customers came by and 99% of the time found what they needed, it was a place of a new fresh start after leaving an abusive relationship, and better than all of those things aforementioned, it was the place where you found Miguel O’Hara, your new boyfriend.

Miguel was a scientist, he worked at Alchemax and came by often to the library to retrieve books he needed for his job. He was always a regular customer as your boss had mentioned, but he said he came by more often when you started working there everyday.

Which was true, you saw him very often, maybe 8 times in a span of 5 days, he walked in and out with a new scientific book or one about chemicals, and you’d be the one to check them out.

It wasn’t hard to miss him when he walked in, he had a broad form and looked very different from the rest- oh and he always wore that white coat that made his arms bulge out more than they should, and really shape his V back perfectly.

Every time his curly jet black hair was always combed back with his calloused fingers as he would approach the front desk and ask you how your day was, even if you had seen him earlier that morning.

Flashback-

“Hi! I-uh.. came to get these checked out... how’s your day been- like so far?”

You beamed a smile at his sorta shyness, which wasn’t normal for him. He wasn’t particularly hyper and such, but his speech was always confidently spoken. Nonetheless you took the 1000 paged book about Chemistry and scanned it while responding,

“It’s been a little busier, now that college started for the kiddos, they’ve been in and out of here like crazy. But overall good.”

His warm brown eyes hadn’t met yours as one of his hands were stuffed in his pockets and the other inched for the book in your hand, but he smiled and replied,

“Oh that’s nice, just don’t.. uh overwork yourself corazo- ma’am.”

You giggled while putting the book in its paper bag while suggesting,

“You can call me corazen- Is that how you say it?”

Miguel finally let his eyes look at you and you could see he held a slight uncertainty, but he did correct you kindly,

“It’s corazon.. i-it means ‘heart’.”

‘Awww... that’s so sweet... Damien would have never said that.’

Warmth filled your insides and you could’ve bet a million dollars that your cheeks were beet red, it wasn’t a doubt you found this mountain of a man absolutely adorable like a puppy, and extremely hot. You slid the book in a paper bag towards him carefully and added,

“Well thank you for correcting me-“

You then read his tag and went on,

“Dr.O’Hara... would you like anything else?”

For a second time his eyes locked on yours, and he took a deep breath before rapidly taking out his hand out from his pocket. You gasped lowly and flinched back at the action, your eyes wide. But Miguel caught your action and felt guilty for scaring you, and comforted you immediately with his words,

“Sorry! Umm.. ay coño.. just call me Miguel.. and.. would you like to go out at some time?”

You were now a couple feet away from the desk, but when you saw the little paper he had put out on top, you slowly came back.

A frown made a small line between his eyebrows, you too felt back for scaring away, but you couldn’t help but have that kind of reflex to certain gestures. You couldn’t meet his eyes after what you did, but his gentle voice gave you a slight confirmation that it was ok,

“Corazon?... it’s ok if you can’t-“

“I can! Yes.. yes... I’m sorry-“

“Please don’t be.. it was me that was weird then-“

“You’re not weird I swear... I was the one that acted dramatically-“

“You’re perfect.. I swear that you are.”

Honesty and adoration was read all over him, something you’ve never seen in another man but could detect. With a warm smile you made the move to agree with him, though you were hoping he was right.

“Ok...”

Miguel first smiled then wore a frown with a question,

“Ok.. as in the date or-“

You quickly quipped,

“Is it too much to ask for both?”

With a shake to his head Miguel tapped the table and took his bag,

“For you? Not at all corazon.. at 6 tomorrow.. because you clock out at 5 right?”

In surprise at how he knew when you got off of work had you smiling a bit brighter, as you couldn’t remember the last time someone remembered something so small about you.

“Yes! Ah.. thanks for noticing, and giving me time.”

With a wink and a last wave Miguel sweetly promised,

“You’re worth all my time.”

End of flashback-

You never thought that being 6 months into your new relationship would be leading after that first date with Miguel.

And you have never been happier than ever. He was the absolute most gentle person ever, he never lifted his voice and was calm in every situation. He was the total opposite of what you dragged yourself into with your last relationship... which was toxic and abusive.

Damien was the asshole’s name, and with him, degrading words were always shouted at you, new bruises would appear around your wrists or neck every time he got angry, your lipstick was never smeared from being kissed and loved... instead your mascara was always messed up and painted teary lines down your cheeks.

You’d flinch when a voice was raised higher than normal or you’d panic for a second at someone moving too fast towards you. As in the past Damien would scream at you endlessly and out of no where sprint towards you to lay his hands on you to hurt you. But now as you had run away from him and started a whole new life far away- as so you thought.

You worked hard to be more normal and confident, and read people and understand that some moved the same way but had different actions and intentions behind them.

Like when Miguel would reach suddenly to brush your hair behind your ear, you had to learn that he was caring for you, and not going to choke you. Or when he’d come from behind you to hug you, day by day you grew to accept how he was loving on you and not going to drag you away to hurt you.

So little things like that, you were trying to give a chance to think differently of, so you could heal. And to not say the least, but Miguel had seen the trauma you were in from when you first dated, he had seen and heard how you asked for reassurance on everything you did, and even apologized your heart out when you accidentally laughed a little louder at a funny moment, or when a drop of coffee landed on his shirt, face filled with dread and worry at what he’d say or do to you.

But ever sense that night, Miguel swore on his life that he’d never let you go, and that he’d protect you forever from whoever would want to cause you harm. And he also knew, that if he ever ran into your ex, it’d be the last time he ever did.

—————-

Diiiin Diiing!!

The library was already close to closing time, so when you heard the ding, you called out to let them know,

“Hi! Welcome to-“

In horror you dropped the books you were holding, letting them crash onto the floor and even allowing the hard cover book land on its corner onto your foot. The day you hoped would never come, finally came.

In all his wicked glory, stood your ex, Damien, at your counter. With an erratic heartbeat and shaky hands you moved down to the floor to pick up the books, feeling like the helpless little girl you were when he had you. Fear wasn’t enough to describe what had you losing your breath and movement, as venom came out of his mouth.

“Wow.. even after all this time your still a clumsy bitch huh? Pathetic.”

Words cut sharp like knives at your heart and you could feel how deep into your gut that tossed stone of words went. Instantly it was like if you went to robotic mode with him, like if he had control over you. His black eyes bore into your now glossy eyes as you fixed the books on the counter and replied with a stutter,

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop it- it was an accident-“

“An accident like how you dropped your coffee on my shoes or how you step on my brand new shoes at your cousins wedding? You’re an accident. A mistake- like how’d you even get the job?”

Shrugging slowly was all you could muster, words hanging in your throat. But a harsh slam of his hand hitting against the counter had you jump and responding verbally,

“I-I’m not sure.. my boss thinks I’m efficient and qu-quick.”

And in that moment you had a very quick slip up in your mind, making you scold yourself and remember Miguel’s words, which were honest and uplifting,

‘Don’t be weak!! Remember what Miguel said- Never let anyone tell you you’re not good enough at what you do. You’re perfect and strong, stand up for it.’

You then took a deep breath and said forwardly,

“I’m good enough for this. So just- just please leave me alone.”

A dry laugh met your ears along with more degrading words,

“You’ll never get it huh? No matter what you do without me you’ll never be good enough. I gave you power-“

He gave you the power of fear, fearing all the time, the power of tears, that you cried every night after a scandal he put up. So you worded confidently,

“No you didn’t. You were toxic and abusive. The only power you gave me was to fear you.. but that’s over. Now go-“

You tired really tried your best to stand strong, but it didn’t work out well and it opened old wounds when he dared to raise his voice and slam his hand on the counter again,

Bam!!

“TOXIC?! Wow! Look at you calling the kettle black little girl. You see, you were the toxic one for always disobeying me and saying ‘no’. You were toxic for not letting me love you like I wanted to- I TRIED OK? I did! That you didn’t like rough and all was your little immature and weakling problem, but that’s what happens when you don’t play nice with your daddy.”

Internally you bled as he slashed you open with every word and movement, making you feel less and less like the person you had become.

Miguel’s words fading in your mind as Damien added a new one and went on like a broken record. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you let it out as a gasp when he slammed his hand again and demanded your attention,

“HEY! Aren’t you listening?! Do I have to hit the side of your head so it clicks? Don’t you remember how well that method worked?!”

Diiiing Diiiing!!

Miguel had just walked in with your favorite dinner meal from the coffee shop near by, carrying his on the other hand so he could join you for his little break too.

Just as you had dropped your stuff in fear, so did he.. but he felt a deep concern instead. He witnessed a man half his size tower over the counter and lean towards you with an accusing finger, shoulders visibly moving in aggression.

But what choked his air was your face- oh god how he hated the look of fear on you, it was as if death was standing before you. Miguel immediately walked up and called out to you first, not wanting to scare the man and cause more to happen, as he didn’t know what was up with him.

“Amor? What’s going on?”

The man whipped his head towards Miguel and only smirked at him and said to him while still staring deeply,

“Sir you’ll have to come back later-“

Huffing in disbelief at this guy’s audacity, Miguel turned his attention back to you and saw tears coming down your eyes, making him ask right away,

“Amor, what did he do to you?”

Blocking you with his body Damien bit,

“Why are you assuming I did something wrong?”

At seeing your teary eyes and wet cheeks, Miguel instantly grew defensive and very angry at the man that stood in front of you being an asshole. Miguel knew by his tone that he had probably done something to you, and that only made him more furious... until it clicked for him, who he was.

‘That’s the bitch.. Damien. Mierda.. your so going to wish you never walked in here.’

With an authoritative voice Miguel called out to you,

“Go to the back, and don’t come out.”

He wouldn’t want you to see the ugly side of him that came out when he defended those he’d kill for. He wouldn’t want you to accidentally translate his harshness towards enemies as that he could probably hurt you too with those same hands. No, he o my wanted you to see and know that his hands would only show love and care to you.

So you taking the chance that you knew Miguel wouldn’t dare let Damien come after you, you ran to the back immediately and didn’t look back. Knowing you’d probably pass out from seeing more of the monster that hurt you so much.

———

Miguel back up front then cracked his knuckles and threatened,

“And you, step away from the counter-“

“Why should I? I haven’t done anything to her-“

“And you won’t, ever again. Now I suggest you go and leave her alone-“

“And what are you going to do if I don’t huh? You think I’m scared-“

“Que idiota... You will be. The only fighting you know is how to hit women... try hitting me. I dare you.”

Thinking Miguel wouldn’t try anything, as he was a much larger man, Damien stupidly went at him. But being Spider-Man in disguise had its perks to self defense and fighting skills. So reaching close enough to him, Miguel then side stepped and watched Damien fall forward, hence letting him catch his back collar and slam him to the ground.

Breath knocked out of his lungs at the single action had Damien laying on the ground trying to catch air, but Miguel refused it to him when he hovered over him and held onto his neck tightly with one hand, constricting the airway.

“Thought you liked choking? And pain?”

Damien’s face turned red and Miguel’s heart pinched at the thought of his love and life being in this painful position, because of this low life monster under him. It only made him growl and add to the fire and squeeze harder, not caring about how Damien silently cried for release,

“Hm? Hijo de puta.. vete al carajo... and never come back. If not I’ll make sure you never do.”

And with that Miguel slammed his back one last time to the ground, ignoring the small crack he heard, and then got up, lastly spitting out in a loud voice,

“Now get the hell out! I don’t want to see you around her ever again!!”

Like a cowered dog Damien scurried away, running out the door and going far off, not caring about the weird looks people gave him for how crazy and scared he looked.

Miguel didn’t give him a second thought before darting towards the back room to get you. When he approached the door he knew it’d be locked, so he knocked gently and called out,

“Amor? It’s me.. Miguel. Can you open up?”

Sniffles and hard gasps were heard on the other side, causing him to freak out a bit and call to you again,

“Baby it’s ok. Amor I’m here and it’s safe-“

“I-Is he gone??”

Miguel could hear your short breaths between words and he could feel it in his gut that you were hitting panic mode. So as soft as possible he tried to tell you,

“Yes amor.. he’s gone. I promise, open the door por favor.. I want to see you.”

Silence filled the room a bit. It he then heard the smallest-

click!

As always Miguel never degraded you but instead praised you, even for the smallest things, like unlocking the door.

“Gracias amor, good job baby.”

Slowly he opened it and his heart ripped apart at the sight of your cowered form in the corner of the closet, breath hitching and your small hands trying to wipe away the large tears that rained down on your stained cheeks. With his arms opened to you Miguel did his best to word out everything and let you know what he’d do beforehand,

“Ok amor, I’m going to come to walk to you... can I touch you-“

Your hand inched for him as you whimpered,

“I can- I can’t breathe. hel-p me.”

Hearing you hiccuping for air had Miguel grabbing your face gently, pulling you towards him slowly as he tried to talk you through it to calm you down,

“You’re ok amor. Respira.”

His hand laid on your heart as he led yours to lay on his, he wanted you to work on matching your breathing with is. His other hand held the back of your neck gently and leaned your forehead on his as he went on praising and comforting,

“Just like that amor, breathe. You’re doing so well-“

“I feel so sc-scared.. like if it’s all in my throat-“

“I know amor-“

“I didn’t know what to-to do-“

“It’s not your fault-“

You tried to push away and bury yourself in dark thoughts of untruth,

“But it is! I let him... how could you lo-love someone like me that folds- Mmph!!”

Miguel wouldn’t have it, he loved you too much to let you drown in hurtful thoughts, so to silence your head and words, he had pulled you in for a deep kiss.

Instantly it had helped you stopped thinking crap about yourself and doubt everything with Miguel, and it helped you calm your breathing as you felt him move his lips against yours softly yet firmly. Your hands wrapped around his neck and brought him back closer to you, not wanting to let go. Miguel then pulled away, but only enough to mumble coherently,

“I love you *kiss* and you’re safe *kiss* I won’t hurt you *kissssss* I got you amor *kiss kiss* I’m not going anywhere without you *kiss*.”

The kisses in between confirmations had calmed you down right away, feeling his hands embrace you and run over your arms and waist gently had got you to stop fidgeting as well. With a one last kiss to your head, Miguel slowly stood up, helping you stand as his arms wrapped around you, he then suggested to you,

“Let’s go home amor, c’mere. Tomorrow’s your day off anyways and we can get up late to and rest.”

You were about to walk out in hand with him, but Miguel had different plans as he was feeling still protective over you and wanted you close. He crouched down a bit and worded,

“Jump and wrap your legs around me-“

“Mig-“

“It’s ok amor, don’t worry about anything.. I got you.”

No more doubt rested in you at the thought of him carrying you, so you gladly accepted and jumped in his arms. You looked small in his arms, but you felt so safe and secure as one of his large arms held you up. He grabbed your bags of food and let you hold them as he helped you clock out and lock up.

Your head rested in his neck as your arms wrapped around him, when he had taken off his coat to drape over you. He didn’t mind to walk you home to your apartment that was two blocks away, as long as you were with him he was content.

Once home you both ate comfortably and soon were cuddling in bed, Miguel the whole time held you close and promised to keep you safe, letting you know that you’d never see your ex again, and when you asked how that would be possible, he stated,

“Just let me take care of it Amor... you’ll be ok. Now rest baby.. I’ll be here with you in the morning.. I texted my boss that I won’t be coming in. So sleep amor.”

You lifted your head off his chest and pecked his lips as you thanked him,

“Thank you... for everything. I don’t deserve you-“

Miguel held your cheek and insisted,

“You deserve all of me and more.. and I’ll remind you everyday until you believe it.”

He kissed away your tears and kissed you once more as you nodded,

“Ok... I love you.”

“I love you so much more. Te voy a amar... por siempre.”

And with that you had passed out in his arms, cuddled close to his chest, your heart beats synchronizing as one.

Miguel made sure you had passed out deeply, before sliding out of bed and kissing you back to sleep as he covered you completely and made sure you were ok, before leaving the place. He had a promise to keep, and he intended to do it as fast as possible.

—————-

“He’s yours.”

Officer Jefferson Davis looked at Miguel with a frown as he saw the beat up Damien in who he knew as Spider-Man 2099’s hands. Jefferson grabbed Damien and asked,

“Well what did this punching bag do?”

Damien cried pathetically as he tried to reach for Miguel,

“He’s crazy! I didn’t do anything! Aren’t you supposed to fight villains and not civilians?!?”

Miguel stood tall and interrupted him,

“You harassed the library lady today, and threatened to hurt her. Villains hurt people.. and you like to hurt women.. so that makes you a villain. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

Jefferson nodded his head in agreement and replied to Spider-Man,

“That’s good enough to lock him up for a while-“

He then pulled Damien towards an Officer as he added,

“-you look like the kind of loser that pulls those stunts- damn my wife would beat your ass. Get him in cuffs and to the station. He doesn’t deserve a hospital-“

“But I think he broke my arms!-“

Jefferson rolled his eyes and huffed,

“Good! Now you’ll have another reason why to not hit women!”

Once he was dragged away, he went to thank Spider-Man,

“I appreciate this. It’s hard to catch these guys sometimes, but I’m glad you keep an eye out for them and for the community.”

Shaking his hand Miguel responded,

“It’s not a problem.. just.. just keep in him there for the longest time you can.”

Jefferson understood without needing more, so he promised,

“I’ll make sure of that. Now I need to go make sure that happens-“

With a salute Miguel bid,

“You do that Sir. Have a goodnight.”

Saluting back Jefferson smiled,

“You too Spider-Man.”

Back at home, and in your arms, Miguel smiled to himself at seeing your peaceful self, knowing you wouldn’t be hurt by Damien ever again. Softly he placed a kiss on your cheek and whispered,

“He won’t hurt you again.. te amo.”

Now he held you close to him and soon fell asleep to the sound of your breathing and warmth against him. Both of you sleeping soundly in peace and security.

Spanish translations:

Corazon- heart

Te voy a amar por siempre- I’ll love you forever

Que idiota- what an idiot

Hijo de puta- son of a bitch

Vete al carajo- go to hell

Respira- breathe

[ihavethedreamies]

Oasis | S.Coups

Choi Seungcheol (S.Coups - Seventeen)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: S.Coups x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Violence (mentions of weapons, but nothing else), Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Princess, Pumpkin, etc.), Daddy Kink (as required by law), Swearing, Kissing, Thigh-Riding, Cockwarming, Couch Sex, Slight Breathplay, Soft Dom! S.Coups, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!), He's got some ~fancy~ tattoos ;)

Author's Note: Okay this one was…normally I can stay calm writing, but not for a Scoops. He's just so fucking hot…

-> Series Hub <-

-> Hoshi's <-

-> Woozi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

The only problem with being in a small village in the middle of the desert is there were very few places to hide. You turned a corner around a sandstone building into an alleyway. Luckily, there was a pile of crates with a small enough hole for you to hide. Crawling into the space, you tried to stay as quiet as possible while also catching your breath. You worried your panting would be too loud. You clutched your bag close to you, not wanting to lose the contents again. Having found what seems to be an extremely valuable artifact, you had tried desperately to get it back after it had been stolen. You had reported the chunk of crystal to the Assembly and they said it was possibly valuable enough to bring to headquarters. Though, while you were camping out, about a third of the way through a four-day journey, your camp was ransacked, and your crystal stolen. You followed the thieves that turned out to essentially be a gang, and you took it back. They had found you though and had been chasing you for a good hour. They obviously understood the crystal's value if they were pursuing you so intently. Peaking around the crates, you saw a few of the goons run down the street past the alley, but you weren't brave enough to get away yet.

"Fuck!" You shrieked, a hand having grabbed your braid at the base, hauling you out of your hiding hole. Your hands grappled at his, trying to get him to let you go, legs scrambling on the ground.

"You stupid bitch-" He grumbled, yanking your hair harder till you fell back against his legs.

"Where's the rock?" He snapped and you just glared up at him, not wanting him to realize if you looked at your bag. You grunted at the tug on your hair, but immediately stopped wiggling when you felt something metal press against your neck.

"If I get this back from you, the boss might just promote me-"

"Kind of hard to get a promotion with an extra hole in your head." A new voice spoke and you could feel the gangster freeze behind you, the knife pressed to your neck retreating slightly. You assumed this new man had pressed his own weapon, a blaster most likely, against the guy's head.

"Drop the knife." This new man's voice was steady, strong, and you felt safe already. You heard the blade clatter on the ground, and the hold on your braid released, so you scrambled away from the gangster. Instead of going forward, you basically crawled around and behind the aggressor, and stopped once you were safely behind your rescuer. Just from behind, you could tell he was strong, his bare arms showed his biceps were nearly as big as your thigh, maybe bigger. Smooth geometric tattoos painted his arms, looking similar to a circuit board. His hair was bright red, slicked back just enough to keep the longer strands out of his face, the ends resting just above his shoulders. He had a belt strapped around his torso over his vest, various things attached to it along with several ammo cartridges. Another strap around one of his thick thighs had the holster for his blaster and his pants were tucked into a pair of knee-high combat boots.

"Now screw off before you can't." The man pulled his blaster away, but literally kicked the guy's ass, sending him onto his face a few feet forward. The gangster scrambled to his feet and fled. Once he was gone, the man before you turned around finally and your breath left you right after you had caught it back. He was fucking gorgeous. You wondered if the slit in his eyebrow was from a scar, or just for looks, it was hard to tell in the dark light.

"Are you okay, doll?" He kneeled in front of you, even like that you felt tiny…Tinier than usual. You wondered if he could see your reddened face in the low light.

"Y-yes." You nodded, letting him wrap his hands around your arms to help you stand up. Your own hands went to his biceps, trying hard not to squeeze to test the muscle there, and your shaking legs finally got you up. You wished he didn't have the leather gloves on so you could feel more of his bare skin on yours. After you were both up, the top of your head only reached his chin, and he smelled good-

"Why were they after you?" he asked and you had to step back to look at him even with your head tipped up.

"Uh…" You weren’t sure if he was trustworthy, even if he saved you. Maybe he just wanted the crystal for himself…

"It's okay, doll. I'm a Ranger." He pulled the chain around his neck up and out of his shirt, an upside-down triangle-like designed pendant on the end. You recognized it, and the title, so you relaxed. They were basically freelance, vigilante, bounty-hunter guys. They would help people in need and take out or get criminals without having to worry about legal red tape. It was an elite group, and their identities were not widely known. Sighing in relief at the news, you opened your satchel and pulled the crystal out. It wasn't refined and it was pretty heavy. You handed the rock to him and he looked it over, holding it easily with one hand while he holstered his blaster. The thin but tight black shirt he had on under his utility vest struggled over his chest as he did so, when he spoke you finally brought your attention away.

"This is a diamond, doll." He smiled and your jaw dropped. No wonder it was so valuable. That would make sense why the Assembly Headquarters wanted it, they had the largest bank on the planet.

"Seriously?"

"Yep." He once again held the gem in one hand, pulling a device out of a pocket of his utility belt. The Ranger clicked the end against the gem and looked at the panel on the side as the device beeped.

"About 13 hundred carats." He smirked, arching one of his thick eyebrows.

"Where'd you find this?"

"I'm a Scavenger, so I look for scrap and crashed ships or satellites. This was in some wreckage out near Dekkos." you told him, a bit surprised he handed the gem back to you.

"Are you bringing it to the capital?"

"Yes."

"You will probably have more of those gangsters plus anyone else who finds out after you, why don't I escort you?"

"You would do that?"

"Of course, doll. I'm Seungcheol, but my team calls me S.Coups."

"S.Coups?" you questioned and he chuckled, a bit embarrassed.

"Uh, the S is for Seungcheol, and then coups like coup-d'état."

"You overthrow someone?"

"Well, kind of. Our first mission was to get a corrupt mayor out of power, so…" He smiled, somehow his extremely handsome face looked cute.

"Are you sure you don't mind escorting me?"

"I told you," he leaned forward so he was more eye level, "of course I don't mind."

"Can I call you Cheol?" you asked him, his name was kind of long and you weren't sure about his nick name…

"Of course, doll. What do I call you?" You told him your name in response and when he said it with a smile, your ovaries exploded.

"I know its late, but I was planning on getting to the next town over, it's about an hour, is that okay?" he asked you as you followed him to the main street and toward the edge of the village. You had wrapped the diamond up in a head scarf you had and tucked it back in your satchel. Cheol suggested you grab your stuff from your rover and leave it for the time being, since more goons might know it's yours. He wouldn't even let you carry your own bag.

"That diamond is enough for you to carry, (Y/N)." When you got to his own rover, you halted in shock. Not only was it new, but it was a really nice model too. Yours was nearly thirty years old and was not exactly top of the line, even new.

"Oh, this belongs to the whole group. I just have it most of the time since I'm the leader."

"You're the leader?" You hadn't known that.

"Well, kind of. I'm co-commander along with Woozi." He opened the passenger door for you and you climbed up onto the wheel and into the rover. The seats were nice, and actually seats versus what looked like a restaurant booth. The inside panels were just a flat holo-screen, and it even had heating. Your rover only had air-conditioning, so at night it could be kind of cold. You asked him a series of questions as you drove to the next town, and he answered each one humbly. Your eyes kept flitting to his hands on the steering wheel, then up his arms and traced every line of his tattoos, to his side profile-

"Your eyes might burn me, doll." He tried not to smirk, casting you a knowing side glance. You floundered for an excuse.

"Its fine, sweetheart." Seungcheol rested back in the seat and you shuffled in your own seat, your face not the only part of you heating up. By the time you reached the next town, all you wanted to do was get in bed, and maybe get him inside you…

"Do you mind sharing a hotel room, I can keep you safer that way." His suggestion was genuine, truly just wanting to protect you. And you were more than willing.

"That's fine!" Seungcheol smirked, walking past you into the hotel, one much nicer than the inns or motels you usually stayed at. You cringed at your own eagerness, following after him with your head bowed in embarrassment.

"Can we get a suite with two bedrooms?" He pulled his credit chit out, the hotelier tapped on her console telling you there was one available on the fifth floor. You watched her as she worked, and she kept looking up at Seungcheol and all over him. She wasn't blind, you didn’t blame her. He took the room and you balked at the price.

"Don't worry, doll." He cast you a gentle smile, so you didn't. Judging by his rover, even if he claimed it was the whole group's, he had money to spare. You followed after him, casting a glance back at the hotelier who was glaring at you. Wanting to stick your tongue out at her like a child, you restrained yourself and waited for the elevator with him. Right as the lift was reaching the ground floor, a group of about seven entered and headed toward the elevators as well. Because of this, the lift was full, and you pressed your small self into the corner, Seungcheol working as a barrier between you and the group of men that had entered as well. You doubted they even knew you were there. They had left the button pressed for the fifth floor, and you both waited for them to get out, then headed in the opposite direction. He tapped the clear card against the lock and it dinged, opening with a click. He carried both of your bags in and you looked around the suite in awe, never having stayed somewhere so nice.

"I'm going to shower quick." Seungcheol deposited your bag in one of the bedrooms and headed toward the other. There was a bathroom attached to each room and so you followed suit. Only taking a rinse off since you had showered the night before, you found yourself watching some show on the couch. You had changed into shorts and a tank instead of your leather leggings and vest. Your knees were pulled to your chest, feet resting on the cushion, and you were really trying to focus on the show. It was so hard though to not think of him in the shower. He was too freaking hot and there was only a door in between you and him. Naked.

"Fucking fuck…" You huffed at yourself, trying to snap out of your pervy thoughts, but it was futile. Especially since he had just come out in nothing but his pants. At least he wasn't just in a towel, but his muscular and toned body was perfectly on display. He had more of the circuit-like tattoos curling up over his shoulders and down his chest and sides of his stomach. You had noticed earlier not only were his arms and thighs thick, but he had a butt too. Fuck. He saw you gaping at him, it was kind of hard not to. It was like you had zoned out…or in rather, on him and he huffed a laugh, a bit embarrassed. However, he felt more smug than anything and his own eyes flicked over your mostly bare legs and the low cut of your tank. He would be lying if he said he wasn't just as attracted to you as you seemed to be to him. It was up to you make a move though… When you snapped out of it and your eyes met his, he was smirking and hummed with an inquisitive tone.

"Yes?" He teased and you choked on your saliva some, eyes flitting back over his bare chest.

"You curious?" You nodded dumbly.

"Come here, then." Seungcheol smiled and he nearly guffawed at how fast you leaped off the couch, but you approached much slower. You stopped right before him, hand coming up and hovering over his skin. You flitted your gaze up to his face and he nodded, taking a sip out of the bottle he was holding. As soon as your fingertips met his warm skin, the other hand flew up and you brought them down to rest on his abs.

"Fucking hell." You whispered and he really tried not to laugh, but you could feel his chest rumble a bit. Tracing each curve and angle of the tattoos snaking over him, you noticed they seemed to let out a slight reddish glow, lagging behind your tracing fingers over the black lines. Your mouth was hung open as you touched him like he was the best thing you had ever had the pleasure of touching, and he smirked harder. Getting annoyed with his smugness, even though it was warranted and caused by you, you dug your dull nails in a bit and scratched down. Seungcheol sighed, a low groan rumbling out after and your cunt clenched around nothing.

"What-?!" You squeaked as he crouched a bit, wrapping one around your upper thighs under your butt, and easily lifted you up against his shoulder. He carried you over to the couch, his bottle still in his hand and you wondered if he could hear your heart pounding. He could probably also feel your wet leaking through your panties and shorts.  You glanced down and saw that the tattoos were on his back too. The man sat on the couch, adjusting you on his lap so you were straddling one of his thighs. You nearly whined, having to spread your legs pretty wide to accommodate, and you could feel the hard muscle through his pants. While they weren't super tight, with how he was sitting, the stretched over his thigh just right. He smirked again as he took another drink, your shorts so thin he could feel your pussy clench as you settled.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, doll?" Your fingers were lazily and lightly rubbing over his skin, it tickled a bit. Those tattoos definitely shimmered when you touched them…

"Can I ride your thigh?" Your voice was so soft that despite how close you were, he almost didn't hear you.

"You want that, sweetheart?"

"Yes, -dy." He barely heard the last part, your face blossoming red when you let the word slip, eyes widening in panic. Seungcheol groaned when he heard it, adjusting his footing and bounced his leg under you a bit, forcing it up and against your needy cunt.

"You wanna ride daddy's thigh, pumpkin?"

"Fuck, yes please~" You gasped, but held back from moving, nodding.

"Go ahead, then." He took a casual sip from the bottle, glancing over your shoulder at the TV like he was actually focusing on it. He licked his lips, swallowing a chuckle when you began to grind down onto his leg, so hard he felt your pulse from your core. Your little mewls grew louder when you leaned forward, losing strength in the rest of your body, resting your forehead on his collarbone. Your fingers dug into the waist of his pants on either side of you, getting closer and closer. While Cheol had his number of sexcapades, he had never had a girl be this eager to fuck herself on his leg. Most of the time he was worried if they would find out he didn't, by any means, mind getting called daddy. You were the first one though to jump on it immediately, and with no hint or prompting from him. He was thanking fate that he was the one that rescued you.

"I'm-" You gasped, your hips stuttering.

"Close, pumpkin?" He finally put the bottle down, his arm curling around your waist, helping you keep your rhythm. His face got close to yours, so much so your lips were barely touching and he swallowed your moan, invading your mouth with his tongue. You fell apart then, whining as he helped you ride out your high, catching every little noise you made with his lips. Your head was swimming, you nearly gasped for air when he left the kiss. Your panties were sticking to your even wetter folds, and he could feel that your slick had soaked through his pants too.

"Did a good job, sweetheart."

"Thanks, daddy." It seemed you were a bit shy with the daddy-kink play, but you had started it.

"What now, doll?" Your eyes met his, unsure with what answer he wanted.

"What do you want me to do to you now?" He arched a brow and your mind ran rampant with all the possibilities.

"W-what do you want to do?" You threw the question back and he tilted his head in thought, humming. You could feel that his cock had gotten hard against your knee, your mouth watered when you glanced down at the tent pitched, wondering just how big he really was.

"What if…" As he spoke, his hand drifted from your hip, over your ass, and into the back of your shorts. You moaned when his fingers hit your soaking cunt, lightly circling the pad over your entrance.

"…you sit on my cock and we watch a movie?" His suggestion took you a second to piece together. Cockwarming? Fuck, yes PLEASE.

"O-okay." You nodded and his hand withdrew. He easily moved you to turn around and assisted with getting your shorts and panties off. Cheol adjusted his position and you rested against his chest, reaching down to release his cock from his pants. Your eyes widened, breath hitching when your hand met the flesh, finally getting him out to see what you had to work with. You were going to get split in half, and you couldn't be more excited.

"Daddy~" You whined, head falling back onto his shoulder, your nose brushing over the side of his throat.

"Can you take it, pumpkin?" He stroked the soft skin under your belly button, the sensation made you shiver, already sensitive.

"Yes."

"Yes…?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl." You sat up a bit more, propping your hips up as he guided the tip of his fat cock to your glistening folds. A bit concerned when you let out a small choking noise, it soon faded into a moan, which rose into a whine as he sank deeper and deeper. You thought he would be in your throat by the time he was all the way in. Your tight core fluttered around his cock, the delicious burn of the stretch bringing you dangerously close to another orgasm already. When he had about another inch to go, you lost your strength. You slumped back into him, gravity pulling you the rest of the way done so his cock buried in completely. Your cunt twitched along with the rest of you, trying to adjust to the stretch and the intense pleasure it caused. If you were already so sensitive, he wondered how bad you would get after sitting on his cock for a good hour.

"Hm, so good, sweetheart. Taking daddy's cock like a pro." His groan rumbled through him and over you, his strong arms wrapping over you to hold you up and to him. After about five minutes, your brain started to function a bit more, and you tried to get more comfortable on his lap as he started something you really cared not for. It wasn't what the movie was, but you could only think of him splitting you open and his bare chest pressed to your back. You had your legs spread wide over his lap, knees over his so he could easily hold them open for you. Every few minutes, your whole body twitched from the pleasure, your breath shuddering, trying not to move. You really were a princess, more like a queen, taking his huge cock so good and sitting still so obediently. He had to push away the thought of immediately taking you as his wife, but man did he want to. Have you whenever he wanted…

"D-daddy…!" You gasped, cunt clenching hard suddenly and he huffed as you came, not having moved for the last half hour. He wondered how that was possible, and so did you. Seungcheol had to be a drug itself, because you were already addicted. You needed him so bad-

"Fuck, hold on…" He grunted, shutting the TV off and wrapping his arms around you tighter, hand on your opposite hip and the other across your chest so his hand could rest under your jaw. He splayed his legs better, sliding down the couch a bit to get better leverage, and your nails quickly dug into the back of the couch to prepare. He gave a shallow but hard thrust and you squealed, releasing babbles as he fucked up into you. Each thrust shattered pleasure through your body, his skin getting hotter against yours. Moreso than was natural, and you realized you could feel the pattern of the marks covering his torso with the heat. They must have been some kind of cybernetics…

"Want more, princess?" He rumbled and you whined an affirmation, his thrusts still hard but too shallow. You didn’t want to be able to walk the next three days… The hand he had on your hip shifted so he splayed his fingers over your lower stomach, index and middle fingers resting in a V right around where he had his cock inside of you. His other hand your jaw moved down to your collarbone, lying over the top of your chest, his pinky slightly under the hem of your tank. The heat of his tattoos increased, and suddenly it was like every one of your nerves was set on fire. He froze his pace, grunting as your cunt clenched harder as you came again already, soaking down his balls and over his pants. He chuckled as your core pulsed over and over, seeming to never end. You nearly blacked out, gasping for breath and wondering what the hell that was.

"W-what?"

"I can use these to affect the nerves of people. I use it to knock out targets, or to ease the pain of someone I’m helping. Can make you real sensitive…" He hummed by your ear, his teeth nibbling on the ridge.

"Where do you want daddy to fuck you next, doll?" You nearly didn't register his question, still trying to find your place in reality.

"Bed…" You knew it was cliché, but…

"Of course, sweetheart." He sat all the way up, the position change shifting him inside you and you gasped, whining in disappointment as he pulled you off his cock. Just as easily as he lifted you before, you carried you to his room, grabbing the end of the duvet and easily pulling the whole thing off, letting it float to the floor. Resting you down like you were as delicate as a flower, you sighed at the cool fabric hitting your back. Seungcheol kissed the corner of your mouth, and you tried to follow his lips, but they left yours, moving down your jaw and to your neck. Letting him move you, he brought on of your thighs to his hip, slinging your other knee over his elbow. Your cunt eagerly sucked his cock back inside and you whimpered as he slowly bottomed out. Giving you just a second to adjust, he leaned down and kissed you again. You mewled, your knee resting over his shoulder more than his elbow, the other leg wrapping over his hip as tight as you could manage. A trail of saliva connected your lips when he finally pulled his tongue out of your mouth.

"Ready, pumpkin?"

"Yes, daddy!" You squeaked in delight as he started to move, immediately barreling his fat cock into you, the head battering your cervix. His pace was so intense, your wet dripped over his groin and down your butt to land on the sheets. It must have been an extremely secure bed frame, because it only shifted a bit despite his powerful thrusts. You couldn't even make little noises, your mouth hung open in a silent moan, drool spilling out of the corner of your mouth. You were so fucked out and he wanted to keep you like that from then on. Always drunk on him…

"So fucking good…" He chuckled, hand gripping your leg at his hip, easily slinging your other leg over his shoulder, folding you in half. You saw stars, the first thrust at the new angle fucked another climax out of you, your cunt squirting and creaming his cock even more and he grunted at the tightness. His tattoos started to heat up again, you could feel the change on the back of your thighs where he pressed down into you. Not sure what sensation he was going to surge you into, you couldn't get ready. The same intense arousal sensitivity started to rise again, but something else hit you. A slight tightening at your neck, but his hands were nowhere near. It was very slight and it didn't restrict your oxygen at all, just giving you a dull squeeze in the best way. Your gasps were from the intensity of your pleasure rather than the press of your throat. Then, your senses shifted, your vision blurred and it seemed like you could only hear the woosh of your pulse and his grunts. You felt his skin on yours hotter than before, his cock seemed hotter too, and the scent of sex intensified. When his mouth went back to yours, it was like you could taste his tongue, taste him even more and his groan vibrated your tongue wrapped around his. Without warning, the heat spiked, and your eyes rolled back in your head. His hot cum pumped into you, your own final orgasm hitting you, rolling over and over, dulling before reigniting into another full climax. The heat of his cum spilling out from where he was inside you seemed to sear over your skin and when he had stopped, your senses returned to normal and it was like someone threw cold water on you. Your hearing returned to normal, and you could hear the noise of the street again. You finally registered that he had pulled away from the kiss, hovering over you with a smile. Not a smirk. You could barely get anything out but a whine.

"Did daddy fuck you good, doll?" You nodded lazily and he laughed, kissing you again.

-> Series Hub <-

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Taglist: @gaslysainz

[asdfghjklmals]

Hii :)

I absolutely lovee your writings I've read each of them like 98688 times :)))

You asked for ideas so I thought maybe a fic that reader and satoru and the whole gang are still in school but they're not dating yet and reader and shoko are really close friends and satoru gets kinda jealous cause shoko hugs reader all the time and idk kiss her on chick or smth and satoru wishes he had the courage to do that????

Idk if you fell like it and were comfortable:))))

Thankss <3

THE COURAGE TO TRY✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. WORD COUNT: 1.6k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. lovesick!gojo, a lil' jealous!gojo. bestie!suguru does what he does best and instigates for these two. one sided pining, but iykyk.

SYNOPSIS: satoru wishes he could be more than just friends with oc gojo girlfriend. AUTHOR'S NOTE: the first request to my milestone event (click here for more info). 💚 pre-dating oc gojo girlfriend and satoru, which i have a soft spot for hehehe. this is right after 'sleeping with the enemy', so click here to read it before you read this fic! REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“are you going to blink any time soon?” suguru asked his bestfriend, waving in front of his face, "—earth to satoru?"

“huh.” satoru grumbled in annoyance. “what are you talking about?”

in case you overheard, suguru whispered in satoru’s ear to save him from his own embarrassment, “i’m talking about how you haven’t taken your eyes off of (y/n) all day. you’re starting to look like a creep.”

satoru pushed him away as his face turned bright red, “oh, shut up, suguru!”

the two sorcerers watched from the other end of the classroom as you and shoko were practicing your reversed cursed techniques together. he saw shoko jumping up and down with joy, hugging you tightly, probably excited that you were starting to hone in on your skills. a twinge of jealously jabbed at the white haired sorcerer.

suguru started to pry, “are you and (y/n) going to have another sleepover tonight?”

“suguru, get to the point. what the hell do you want?” satoru snapped in annoyance.

“oh come on, you know for a fact that everyone including our muscle-brained sensei, knows that you have been sneaking into (y/n)’s dorm room at night—not to mention past curfew.” suguru sighed at how oblivious satoru thought he was. suguru was smarter than that. "everyone just wants to know if you two are dating yet!"

satoru’s flush of red in his cheeks did not fade away, instead he just got redder and redder the more his bestfriend talked about the two of you possibly becoming a couple.

suguru curiously asked, “how long as this been going on for?”

satoru gritted his teeth and sighed, “ever since we got back from our mission together.”

“are you guys—”

satoru quickly interrupted his bestfriend before he said anything else to embarrass him further, “i only go to her room to sleep—for some reason, i sleep better when i’m with her. i think it’s her custom futon.”

it wasn’t your custom futon at all. it was the comfort of your presence.

suguru knew that satoru had a difficult time sleeping ever since he started attending jujutsu high. satoru was the type of person to doze off for a couple hours here and there, but never got any actual decent rem cycle sleep. satoru was the total opposite of you. you needed well over 8 hours of sleep to function as a normal (and kind) human being. the first thing that sashisu learned about you was not to wake you up in the mornings. the two guys left shoko with that job when needed.

“sure, whatever you say, satoru.” suguru smiled, his eyes disappearing behind his sly grin, “so, you and (y/n) are…?”

satoru scoffed at his bestfriend’s bold assumption, “—we are just friends.”

there was no way in hell he was going to admit that he liked you without knowing if you liked him back.

suguru folded his arms, annoyed that he wasn’t going to get an answer out of his bestfriend, “uh huh, right—friends do not cuddle each other to sleep.”

satoru started to list actions that friends can totally do together, “well, shoko and (y/n) always have sleepovers, they hug and loop their arms together when they walk—and they’re just friends.”

suguru stated very clearly, “shoko doesn’t give (y/n) an arm pillow every night. and she doesn’t cuddle her just to be able to get some sleep either.”

“well, shoko hugs (y/n) and holds her hand. i don’t get to do that.” satoru barked back.

“you know, satoru… it’s starting to sound like you’re jealous of shoko.” suguru laughed, realizing that satoru definitely wanted to be more than just friends with you.

satoru shot a death glare at suguru, “—am not!”

later that night

“what did you and shoko do during class today?” satoru asked as he watched you brush your hair in your bathroom.

you hummed, “hmmm, shoko gave me some pointers on how to control my cursed energy so i could focus it into reversed cursed energy.”

“oh…” satoru mumbled, “i could’ve helped you with that.” he would never admit that he was jealous of his other bestfriend, shoko ieiri. he wondered what favors he'd have to do for yaga-sensei in order to get paired up with you for a mission again.

you giggled, “satoru, you can’t even heal yourself yet. how could you have helped me?”

“i would’ve found a way.” satoru said, dissatisfaction in his tone. he would have to get stronger and figure out this reversed cursed technique bullshit if he wanted you to stay by his side. he folded his arms across his chest as he sat in your bed, waiting for you to turn off the lights so he could sleep.

you took one last look in your bathroom mirror before turning off your bathroom light. you hopped onto your bed and crawled towards satoru. as you sat down next to him, you noticed that his face was turning pink, ears heating up to a crimson red—he was avoiding all eye contact with you.

“arm pillow, please.” you called out to him with a smile, ignoring his blushing face. you wondered what had gotten into him today.

he laid back and rested his head on your pillow, laying out his right arm for you. you nuzzled in between his chest and bicep. you turned to face him, his arm curling down your back.

“are you sure your arm doesn’t hurt at night?” you asked, patting his chest softly. he always teased you about waking up with a dead arm in the mornings.

“i’m sure.” satoru said softly, “i’m used to it.”

you lifted your head from his arm and glared at him, “used to it? do you give other girls arm pillows too or something?”

satoru rolled his eyes at you, removing his hand from your back to ruffle your neatly brushed hair.

“no, (y/n). you’re the only one.” he reluctantly admitted, “your big head is the only one to lay on my arm.”

you rolled your eyes before you gave him a self-satisfied smirk, attaching your head to his right arm again. that satoru gojo and his interesting way of flirting he always used to try to charm you. you wrapped your arm around his torso, holding him close to you.

the past week that satoru had spent sleeping next to you, he picked up on your interesting sleeping habits: you were usually the first to fall asleep between the two of you. you were a light sleeper. you preferred to sleep on your side (or on your stomach when you’re not curled up next to him). you grind your teeth in your sleep when you’re stressed (he found that out during your mission together). you snore when you’re exhausted (but you argue that you don’t). and lastly, whenever he would move away from you, you would always pull him back towards you.

within 5 minutes of shutting your eyes, you were out cold. satoru could tell by the way your breathing steadied and the way your cursed energy looked to his six eyes. a calm blue hue is what cursed energy looked like at a peaceful resting state.

tonight, satoru’s heart would not stop racing no matter how hard he tried to regulate his breathing. he thought he got used to sleeping next to you every night for the past week, but he was wrong. his thoughts about his feelings towards you was tormenting him inside.

satoru wished that he had the courage to try to be more upfront with you about his feelings. he wished that he could confidently hold your hand so that everyone knew you were his. he wished that he could hug you just because he wanted to. he wished that he could kiss you in hopes that you would kiss him back. this fear of not knowing how you felt about him crippled him.

how could the strongest sorcerer feel so weak in your presence?

he tilted his head towards yours. the scent of your orange hibiscus shampoo lingered in your hair, your head resting just below his chin. he slumped further down on your bed, trying his best not to move your ‘arm pillow’. like clockwork, he felt you unconsciously pull him back towards your body. satoru hoped that he wouldn't wake you up by all the moving around he was doing.

he sighed before he turned to face you. your lashes fluttering against the top of your cheek as he watched you inhale and exhale in your slumber.

how could one person look so beautiful while sleeping? this was so damn unfair.

satoru’s heart skipped a beat. was he really going to attempt to kiss you? hell, he was going to take a risk. he took a deep breath before leaning in to press a feather-light kiss on your forehead and then on the top of your head. the foreign feeling made you furrow your eyebrows in your sleep. he hoped that his pathetic attempt at a kiss wouldn’t wake you up. he wouldn’t know how to explain this to you if you woke up right this instance. he stroked your cheek with his palm before you immediately fell back into your sweet dream for the night.

and it was in that moment that satoru gojo hoped that one day, you could be his and all he dreamed of too.

EXTRA:

“was my hair all over the place or something last night?” you asked satoru as you watched him change out of his pajamas to throw on his school uniform.

satoru thought back to last night when he kissed your forehead and immediately blushed. he feigned ignorance, “not that i remember. why...?”

you connected your thumb and index finger to your chin. “hmmm, i swear i felt something tickling my forehead.”

satoru couldn’t hide his mischievous grin, “tickling your forehead, huh? i wonder what it could’ve been.”

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[atinyniki]

mistakes and apologies.

group: stray kids !

pairing: ex-cupid!hwang hyunjin x human f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, hyunjin is referred to as jin, jinnie, hyune, blood (ish?), reader kinda is a dumbass, intimacy, mentions of sex (no smut), ANGSTTT, taehyun is readers ex-boyfriend, harin is taehyuns girlfriend, pregnancy, mentions of cheating, new relationships and the pain thata goes along with it, hyunjin starting his life as a human being, hyun = taehyun hyunjin = hyune (its meant to sound similar so jinnie gets jelly >:)) ), crying, drinking and alcohol.

authors note: (pt. 2 of cupid's arrow) repost of an old fic but took out the smut part of this bc... it didnt seem important. there are still sexual parts in this fic !!! remember that before reading please :) this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 5892

“y/n! i’m home!”

you walk over to the door, excited to see your boyfriend after he went out for groceries. he took a lot longer than you usually would, but you guess it’s because he’s never been grocery shopping before.

the second you saw him though, you realized you were completely wrong. your heart felt like it was going to explode again.

“how do i look?”

you walk over to him, twirling a couple strands of his now black hair around your finger. you beam at him, “it looks so pretty, jinnie...”

hyunjin’s heart swells in his chest. you’ve done this so many times before. when in bed, doing his makeup, while you’re reading, you always have your hands in his hair, but you’ve never done it simply just to admire it.

the look in your eyes slowly has him shying away, averting your gaze and settling his eyes onto your shoulder instead. “thank you…”

you grab some of the bags from his hand, bringing them to the kitchen and putting some things in the fridge. “i’m sorry, i wanted to look more… you know… human i guess? the pink stood out a little.”

you walk over to him and smile, tucking some of the black wisps of hair behind his ear. “why are you apologizing jinnie? i said it looks pretty on you! i love it.”

“oh. i dunno, i just- i know how much you loved my pink hair.”

he sets down the bags onto the counter, eyeing you as you approach him. you cup his face in your hands, smiling at him. 

his cheeks burn red at the proximity of your faces, and you finally give him a quick peck on his lips. “i love you hyune, you know that right? a hair color isn’t going to change how i feel about you, dummy”, you giggle.

he hasn’t gotten used to the whole relationship thing, but it’s safe to say he’s loving it so far.

“thank you, i love you too”

“i got the job!”

you jump up, walking over to hug him. “i’m glad, you deserve it. you’re really talented hyune” 

though it’s happened many times, he’ll never get used to your praise. it seems like you always know what to say in the moment, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

he holds onto you tight, pulling away a little to kiss your cheek. he giggles, “thanks y/n…”

after a moment of comfortable silence, you pull away and take his hand in yours. “come eat, i made dinner”

you both sit down at the table, talking more about his new job as a dance instructor. “when do you start working?”

“monday, and i only work weekdays”

you hum in acknowledgement, taking another bite of the jjajangmyeon you made. “how long do you work? just so i know in case we have to schedule things.”

“four hours a day, i start at four”

“hmm… okay”

he continues eating, surprised he’s never had this dish before, but then again, food was different up there. you grab onto his hand, smiling at him while you wait for him to finish eating.

he finishes his bowl not too long after, only to turn and see you staring right at him. you giggle, trying not to sputter out a laugh. “is something wrong?”

you smile at him, “you have a little sauce on your face”

“what? where?”

you point to where it is, but he misses. “here, let me”

you swipe the sauce away from his lip, and look back up into his eyes. he stares back with wide eyes, inevitably getting flustered at the little action. you pull him down by his shirt to kiss him once, pulling away not long after and bringing the bowls to the sink.

he stays sat at the table in surprise, is it normal to be so flustered all the time?

“hyune? are you in- oh…”

the pale yellow glow of his wings lit up the room just enough to see what was in front of him. he quickly shuts off his phone, where he has the reference photo, and almost knocks over the canvas in the process.

“don’t look…”

you giggle, walking over him and hugging him from behind. “awh… jinnie”

you watch as his cheeks flush red, and he brings his hands up to cover his face. “shut up…”

you pry his hands off his face and kiss him on the cheek, exaggerating it with a loud ‘mwah’. you see the smile erupt on his face, and you couldn’t stop anymore. you begin peppering kisses all over his face, sitting down on his lap somewhere in between.

he finally pulls away, only to finally kiss your lips. you deepen it, running your tongue along his bottom lip, silently asking for permission. of course, it’s not like he can resist anyways.

you tug some of his hair, earning a groan from him, and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. “hyune…”, you whisper.

he doesn’t let you continue, kissing you again and standing up, holding you against him. you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, the painting long forgotten. 

he climbs onto you, tugging on your shirt with his hands. you quickly throw it off, taking his off next.

“need you…”

“are you okay? do you need anything?”

“hyune, you’ve asked me that like… six times”

“oh… sorry”

you giggle at him, grabbing his arms and pulling him back down onto the bed. “come here”

hyunjin has put on a shirt already, but you’re still completely bare. you hold him close to you, giving him little kisses on his face and watching him giggle. 

his eyes are fixed onto your face, practically unable to wander anywhere else when he has this gorgeous sight in front of him. “you’re so beautiful”, me mutters as he kisses your cheek.

“i love you hyune”

his eyes widen again, it seems like he hasn’t gotten used to you saying it yet. he nuzzles into your chest, looking up at you again and kissing over your collarbone. “i love you too”

he wraps his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “you know, i look forward to this everyday.”

you giggle, “what, sex?”

he smiles, “no, just to hold you.”

you blush, “oh, i-“

“shh… just rest now. need you close to me…”

your fingers graze his wings a little, and he immediately relaxes into your hold. yeah, you can definitely get used to this.

“open it!”

“i’m scared, is a spider going to jump out of it or something?”

“what?! no! just… just open it.”

you slowly take off the lid, spotting what looks like a mini photo book inside. “what’s this?”

“my sketchbook.”

you look back up at him, “don’t you need this?”

“it’s my old one, look inside”

you hold the book, admiring the work done at the front. pretty flowers are scribbled onto the cover, and you run your fingers along the grooves. you open the book, and your jaw drops instantly. 

you flip through the countless photos he’s drawn of you, even one of you on your first “date” at the cafe. you still remember how your nose bled so bad that day, and you smile to yourself.

“well, do you-“

before he can get his question out, you pull him into a soft kiss, smiling when you hear his surprised yelp. 

“i love it. its beautiful, hyune…”

his heart swells in his chest again, something about these moments felt so special to him. he hopes he’ll remember these moments forever. 

the honeymoon phase can only last so long, right?

you walk over to the snacks section, trying to find those chips that hyunjin really likes, but you can’t remember what they’re called. you stroll through the aisle, looking for the packaging.

you spot the light purple bag, picking it up until you hear a voice from beside you. “y/n?”

you turn your head to where you heard it come from, “hyun? hey!”

he walks over to you, it’s been a while since you’ve seen him last, only ever seeing his posts with his girlfriend. “how are you?”

he giggles at the question, but you’re not sure why. “good, i see you’ve been doing well.”

you give him a questioning look, until he begins playfully nudging your shoulder. “so thankful for my hyunnie”, he says in a mocking voice.

you quickly push him off of you, “shut up, taehyun”

“awhh, but you love him don’t you?”, he asks with pleading eyes. “yes, i do, now shut up about him.”

he giggles again, “is someone getting flustered?”

you finally turn towards him, rolling your eyes, “fine then, how’s your girlfriend hyun? don’t you love her so much?”, you giggle.

you watch as he flushes red, god you’re both in deep shit. after laughing at him for a little, he speaks up. “i actually came here to um… get a pregnancy test”

your eyes go wide, and your head shoots up to look at him. “wait… really?!”

he smiles, nodding at you. “we’ve been trying for a while”

“that’s great! you should probably get going now then, i don’t want you to worry her.”

he hums in agreement, smiling and bidding his goodbyes. you remind yourself to text him later to ask about it. 

you’re glad you stayed on good terms.

“what? really?! she’s really pregnant?”

“yes!”

“oh my gosh! i’m so happy for you guys!”

“how are you and hyunjin?”

the conversation went on for hours, it’s been a long time since you’ve really talked. you missed taehyun. not as a lover of course, but as a friend. he always knew how to listen to you and help you.

you try to block out the bad memories, the rejection and heartbreak. you wished you stayed friends, maybe it would be a lot easier to talk to him without all that history.

you start making the jjajangmyeon, hyunjin’s new favorite dish, with the phone at your side. “yeah he’s really come to like my jjajangmyeon so i make it a bunch”

“ah i see, harin loves jjajangmyeon too! maybe we should plan a double date”, he giggles.

you were so lost in the conversation that you didn’t even hear him coming through the door. he hugs you from behind, almost causing you to drop the pot you were holding. 

“god! you scared me…”

you pick up your phone, “sorry hyun, hyunjin just got home. i’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“of course! enjoy the food”

“thanks, bye hyun!”

“bye byeee”

you end the call, turning around to hug hyunjin properly. “dinners ready, i made you your favorite”

he gives you a tired smile, and you both sit down at the table with your plates. “who were you talking to earlier?”

you know he wasn’t being suspicious, and it was just out of pure curiosity, but the way he said it made you giggle. “oh, that was taehyun”

he hummed in acknowledgement. “never heard of them before”, he smiled. “yeah, he’s an old friend”

“ah… i see”, he takes another bite of his food, almost deep in thought. he knows very well who taehyun is, hyunjin was your cupid after all. but it seemed to fly over your head, you thought of hyunjin as a normal person now, your lover. 

“hyune? you okay?”

he looks up at you, smiling again and kissing your cheek. “just tired. missed you…”

you giggle again, hyunjin never fails to make you smile. “i missed you too hon.”

the silence felt truly comfortable with hyunjin. not too long after, you bring him to the bedroom, running a bath for him and slowly undressing him. 

“thank you…”

you give him a little kiss, “don’t thank me. this should be the bare minimum.”

after a moment of silence, you wonder why he hasn’t gone in yet. “is something wrong?”

“yes.”

he quickly undresses you, and you let him of course, although you’re a little confused. you expected him to be tired, not wanting any intimacy right now. 

instead of sitting on the bed, he picks you up and sets you down in the bathtub, settling in with you not long after. 

“need to be close to you…”

you massage his aching limbs with the foamy bubbles, smiling and kissing his face every so often. you know he’s working hard, and you just want to take care of him for now. “sorry for being so clingy.”

“don’t apologize, i need you just as much.”

you’ve finished the movie you were watching with hyunjin, finally grabbing the new book you bought to read. hyunjin stays put in your lap, enveloping himself in your warmth.

you start to read, the room completely silence aside from your breathing. “y/n?”

you were a little startled by his voice, but answered him. “yes jinnie?”

“can you… um- read to me?”

you giggle at him, poking his nose. “of course darling.”

you continue to read the romance novel, reading most of the soft scenes. hyunjin can’t help but imagine the both of you two in the book instead of the characters. 

his breathing stills, but he’s still awake. you don’t know that though. you continue to read, until you get a phone call. “hello? taehyun?”

hyunjin continues to act like hes asleep, scared that you’ll get mad if he interrupts. “hey y/n! how are you?”

“oh i’m pretty good, just reading a book right now. why what’s up?”

“well, harin wanted me to invite you over! i think she’s crazy but she really wants to meet you. says you remind her of her sister.”

you giggle, “oh yeah of course! when?”

“when are you free?”

“well, i can come over right now if that’s okay with you”

“of course! will you be bringing hyunjin?”

“no i don’t think so, he’s sleeping right now”

you both say your goodbyes, and you carefully slip off the couch, setting hyunjin’s head down into a pillow and covering him with a blanket.

you quickly get ready, leaving hyunjin a note on the table and giving him a peck on the forehead. you enter your car not long after, driving over to taehyuns.

hyunjin quickly got off the couch to check the note. 

‘going to taehyuns! he wanted to see me. i’ll be back soon love, make sure to eat!’

of course, hyunjin couldn’t hear the other end of h the phone call. he didn’t really know that taehyun had a girlfriend, or that you were going more to meet her rather than see taehyun. 

maybe you should’ve worded it better…

it’s been happening a lot now, you’ve been leaving the house to talk to harin and taehyun almost everyday. 

of course, hyunjin didn’t want to talk to you about it though, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. he didn’t want to be jealous, he really did trust you but… he just couldn’t help himself.

he didn’t know how to approach you about it, so he planned on telling you when he got home. he just wanted to talk to you for a little bit, because truthfully, he just missed you.

“y/n? i’m home!”

he continues looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found. he lets his wings out, wanting to relax for a bit. he looks for the note you’ve probably left on the counter. 

picking it up, he reads it, but it’s no surprise you’re at taehyuns. at least you leave a note, right? he walks over to the kitchen. maybe it’ll be better to talk about this over dinner?

it probably would be, if his wing didn’t get stuck between the door to the pantry. “fuck-“

he tries opening the door, but only folds the part of the wing. he screams in pain, trying to get it out carefully. it doesn’t budge. tears start leaving his eyes, he can’t escape. he does the only thing he can, and grabs his phone out of his pocket.

he calls you. no answer. he calls you again. no answer. fuck it.

hyunjin: y/n i need your help.

hyunjin: it’s urgent, come home please

hyunjin: y/n please?

no. answer.

shit. what now?

he tries prying himself out, but he pulls too hard. a loud scream echos through the empty house, hyunjin falling onto the floor. the half of the wing that’s been torn off has completely disintegrated into various colors of glitter.

a pink liquid drips from the inside of his torn wing, and he quickly grabs a tissue to stop it. he waits for it all to dry, and puts away his wings. 

maybe it’s better to rest for now. all of a sudden, he gets a phone call from an unknown number.

“hello?”

“hi! is this hyunjin?”

“yes it is, what can i help you with?”

“oh! im taehyun, im sure y/n has told you about me. long story short, we went clubbing for some fun and she got incredibly drunk… i don’t think she’s in proper condition to drive. is it okay if she stays over for the night?”

his heart sinks into his chest, he prays taehyun won’t take advantage of your vulnerable state right now. 

“oh yeah, of course. thanks for taking care of her.”

taehyun can hear the pain in his voice. “hyunjin, are you okay? i can drop her off and pick her up later to get her car if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“oh i’m okay! sorry… just hurt myself a little earlier and im a bit tired”

“ah i see, hope you feel better soon!”

“thanks taehyun. have a good night, text me if you need me”

he couldn’t stand waiting for a goodbye from taehyun, only hanging up and opening his messages again.

he unsends all the messages he sent you, scared you’ll feel bad for not being there. it’s okay, you were just drunk right? you wouldnt ignore him.

at least he hopes so.

“hyune? i’m home!”

“hey baby”, you hear from the couch behind you.

“oh gosh! you scared me”

he lets out a giggle, but you heard a different emotion laced into the sound. “sorry, just wanted to relax here for a bit.

“is something wrong? you texted me yesterday but it said you unsent the messages.”

“oh, no nothing happened. i was just asking about if you were coming home, but taehyun called me”

“oh okay! do we have any juice?”

“yeah, i bought some for your hangover. check the fridge.”, he replied a little coldly.

your heart clenched a little, confused as to why he was acting like this. you grab the juice and pour yourself a glass. 

you notice traces of glitter on the floor outside of the pantry. “hyune, why is there glitter on the floor?”

“oh, just residue from my wings.”

“oh…”

it’s quiet once again, and you walk towards the couch.

“are you okay?”, you ask a little quietly.

“just tired”

“oh… okay”

a moment of silence passes. normally it’s comfortable in eachothers presence, but this time it felt suffocating.

“i love you hyune”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, clenching his fists to ease the pain coursing through his veins.

“i love you too”, he answers, a little slower than usual.

you sit down next to him, nuzzling into his warmth. he has every right to be mad, but he wraps his arms around you anyways. he’s still upset, but he’ll talk to you when you’re in the right mind.

that time never came. you went over to harin’s every day since then, normally coming home to see hyunjin already asleep. 

this time though, you don’t expect him to be standing right at the door waiting for you.

“where were you?”

“what? you know where i was. i was at hyuns”

he didn’t mean for the next question to come out so harsh, but he couldn’t help it. “are you cheating?”

your eyes go wide, “w-what?”

“are you cheating on me with taehyun?”, he asks again sternly.

“hyunjin that’s crazy, why would you even ask that?”

“you’re really gonna say “thats crazy” instead of denying it?”

you scoff incredulously, “no, i’m not cheating on you.”

“i- i don’t know if i can believe you anymore.”

“then why would you even ask if you’re so certain?”

he goes silent. a tear leaves his eye, his entire façade cracking. your heart felt like it was going to explode… not in the good way.

“i… i wanted to trust you. i wanted to believe you- but you… i don’t know anymore.”

“fine. text me when you realize you’re wrong. i’m sleeping over at harins.”

“who’s harin?”

“taehyuns fiancé.”

his heart stops.

“what? why didn’t you say he had one?”

“because, i thought you’d trust me to begin with.”

hyunjin’s eyes go wide, but before he can say anything, you turn around and leave. his heart feels like it’s been torn into a million pieces.

was it his fault then…? no… surely not…

life felt empty without you. hyunjin didn’t even have a life before he turned human, but it felt even worse without you. the person he’s been with since birth. the person he’s been through everything with, even if you weren’t aware of it.

his life was basically ruined without you. he doesn’t know when you’re coming back. it’s been two days already. the house is cleaned, he makes your favorite foods for dinner just hoping you’ll come back, but you don’t.

he spends his time painting, but he’s painted all he can. he has no reference photos of you anymore, he’s run out.

days pass… he’s forgetting the sound of your voice. he doesn’t want to. he sends you apologetic voicemails everyday praying you’ll send one back. you don’t.

taehyun has been calling him a lot too, assuring him that you just need time. he didn’t say it, but he knows you should’ve told hyunjin about his fiance first. maybe this could have all been avoided.

hyunjin can’t help but think it’s all his fault. he let his insecurities get in the way of rational thinking. of course you would never cheat! but… was the love you had even real?

it was all because of that stupid arrow, right? what if the spark you had was finally gone? he doesn’t want to think about it.

he quickly picks up another small painting, laying in bed and holding it in his hands. he doesn’t know if it’s right, or if it’s obsessive. all he knows is that he misses you. it’s been almost two weeks.

he’s been off at work, not as great as he used to be. he’s not the same without you, and it’s eating him alive.

“hey y/n… it’s been almost two weeks now. i miss you a lot. i’m sorry for not trusting you even though ive said it so many times, im just scared you’re going to fall out of love with me. maybe you already have… im sorry i have no way to get these feelings out other than to talk to a photo. i’m sorry i ever summoned that arrow, and im sorry i tore my wing. i wish i was good enough for you, i really do, and im sorry im not. i love you, and i miss you. please, come home soon. i just want to see you again. goodnight”

it’s become a regular routine after you didn’t answer his text or voicemails at night. he couldn’t call you, he couldn’t reach you in any way, but talking to you, or something that resembles you, helped him get those feelings out.

he drifts off to sleep almost and hour and a half later, he’s been having a lot of trouble with that lately.

you walk up to the house and unlock the door, trying to be as quiet as possible in case hyunjin was sleeping. 

you almost cry at the sight of him again, various paintings piled up onto the dresser on your side of the bed. you take off your clothes and change into more comfortable ones, sliding into bed and being careful not to wake him up. you don’t succeed though.

hyunjin notices you in bed, but waits till you’re asleep to say anything. he knows you need rest, and you need a lot of time too.

you fall asleep not too long after, your breathing becoming even. should he really do this right now? it’s not like he had a choice, anyways.

he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and burying his face in your shoulder. he whispers to you, afraid you’ll be mad again if he wakes you.

“hey y/n… i missed you a lot. im so sorry for pushing you away from me. i shouldn’t have done it, and ill take the blame for what happened. i know i should’ve trusted you, and im sorry i didnt. i also really regret summoning that arrow when we met. why did you have to stab yourself with it? you know you’d be much better off without me, right?”

you feel a teardrop fall onto your neck, but you don’t dare make a noise. you need to hear all of this and plan out your apology.

“i’m glad you’re back. i was scared i’d forget your voice. ive learned how to cook just for you, and i made your favorite foods in case you came home. i made so many paintings of you. i even… i even read that book. the one you read to me that night before you went to taehyuns house for the first time. i read over the paragraphs that you read to me, trying to hear your voice say the words again. it didn’t work.”

you turn around finally, almost sobbing when you see him again. his eyes go wide, scared that he’s hurting you even more, and he backs away. “no! hyune… don’t go. tell me how you feel, please.”

he hesitates for a moment, but when you hold his hand in yours it all comes crashing down. 

“i love you so much y/n, but i can’t help but think you’d be better with someone else. im trying my hardest, but i always let insecurities get in the way of us. i should’ve trusted you. i don’t know why, but i just can’t see myself with you anymore because i know you don’t deserve it. you don’t deserve someone like me. you were forced to love me. you didn’t have a choice… but now you do. now you can get over me and fall in love with someone else, now that you know what it feels like. and… i can go back to being your cupid again. is that… okay with you?”

your heart stops. “what? no! no that’s not okay with me?! how could you even ask that hyune? i… i love you… i needed time to figure out how to apologize because… hyunjin- none of this is even your fault! it’s mine. i always went out with taehyun and never invited you, and i never even mentioned his fiancé! no wonder you got jealous… and even then i- i didn’t even give you any time. i always came home when you were asleep and that… that’s not okay. that’s on me. this is my fault hyune… please don’t blame yourself.”

“i’m sorry im asking you this again, and i really don’t want you to say anything to just sugarcoat it. promise you’ll be honest?”

“i promise. whats going on hyunjin?”

“do you really love me? it’s okay if you say no! i’ll understand, i promise… it’s just because of the arrow, right? i’m sorry i-“

you cut him off with a kiss, you couldn’t stand it anymore. teardrops dripped everywhere, collecting at the bottom of your chins as you began to sit up. “no… you’ve got it all wrong. i love you hyunjin. i promise”

more tears leave his eyes, small whimpers leaving his lips too. your heart cracked at every noise he made, but you hugged him tight while straddling him, splaying a hand across his cheek to soothe him.

“i’m so sorry hyunjin… this is all my fault, really. don’t blame yourself for anything. i’m sorry you had to deal with all these thoughts alone. i should’ve been there for you.”

“it’s okay… i just need you close now. can we talk tomorrow? please?”

you nod, kissing him again and laying down with him. you held him close to you, wrapping yourself around him to provide comfort. light sobs from him filled the room. you chose not to comment on it… it would only make you more upset.

you’ll make it up to him. you know you will.

“good morning, hyune”

his eyes flutter open, tears instantly run down his face as he looks at you, taking in your features in the light again.

“woah woah woah, what’s wrong?”

“nothing… i missed you”

your heart cracking more and more, this had to have been worse than the pain of rejection.

“i’m sorry. i should have come back earlier… i just wasn’t in the right mind.”

“it’s okay, love… just stay for now.”

you pull him closer to you, burying his face in your chest. “you know… my mom asked about you. i didn’t know how to tell her what i did, but it just all poured out. she told me to come here.”

“oh…”

“coming back into the house felt like a dream. i haven’t been here in so long, but i think what scared me was the paintings.”

“what… like my ‘shrine’?”

you giggle, “no hyune, not your little ‘shrine’, the ones outside. there were paintings in our house, and i had each stroke memorized by heart. our first picnic date, and the coffee date we had… i remember everything. but when i came home… they were all replaced with paintings of just me. i thought you left…”

you could feel your sleep shirt getting wetter and wetter from his tears, but you just pull him closer. “im sorry for hurting such a pure heart like yours, hyune. you didn’t deserve it.”

“i love you.”, he mumbles.

“hm?”

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too.”

he leans up to kiss your cheek. you know you have to make everything up to him, but for now you just wanted to enjoy this moment with him. 

it’s been a couple days since then. you’re getting settled again with him, and it’s not going too terribly. he’s been opening up about his feelings more, and you’ve been listening to the voicemails he sent you while you were away.

you walk back into his art studio, rushing to him when you see his wings out. “hyune? what happened?”

he turns to you, “hm?”

he quickly traces your eyes, realizing that you’re looking at his wings, and he immediately hides them. “take them out again… please? i want to see…”

he sighs, taking them out again. “oh baby… how did this happen?”

“it got stuck in the middle of the door hinge. i tried to get it out but it tore.”

“oh… why didn’t you call me?”

he stays silent. you think back to the day you came home, and the glitter you found on the floor near the pantry.

“shit… it was- you did call me… but i was drunk, wasn’t i?”

“don’t feel bad about it please, it wasn’t your fault. you were just drunk”

you kneel down next to him, grabbing his legs and pulling so he’s staring at you. he drops his paintbrush onto the easel. “what are you doing?”

you quickly pull his shirt off, earning a questioning look from him. “y/n, is this really the time to be-“

you cut him off when you gently touch his wing over the tear, finally reaching up to kiss it. you kiss all over the edge, earning giggles from him. “stop! it tickles”

you look at him, hugging him at his waist again, then leaning over to kiss his chest. “my mom always used to kiss my scars. i’m sorry i can’t kiss the ones ive left on your heart.”

his eyes widen, tears flowing down his cheeks, and you bring your hand up to swipe them away. 

“don’t cry baby… you don’t deserve it. i’m so sorry i hurt you.”

he kicks his chair to the side, kneeling so that he’s level with you. “thank you… but that’s not your job. you know that. you’ve apologized, i forgive you.”

tears leave your eyes again, he sounds so sincere, even though you’ve broken his heart already. “i love you… im so sorry.”

“i love you too. please don’t apologize.”

you pull him into another hug, still sniffling from your tears. “i’ll be better. i promise, hyune.”

“you’re okay… calm down, my love”

“wow… hes so beautiful…”

hyunjin cradles little minjoon in his arms, watching him thrash and blubber. 

“thank you, hyunjin”, harin smiles at him. taehyun is right at his side, watching hyunjin play with minjoon.

your heart swells in your chest, he looks so cute with him, you can’t wait to have one of your own.

not long after, the two of you leave, walking into your home together and discussing your little trip. “thank you for letting me meet them… you didn’t have to.”

“of course i did! they’re my best friends now, it’s kind of required”

he giggles, picking you up and setting you down on the counter. “i really do love you, y/n.”

“i know… i love you too”

he lets his wings out, a purple glow filling the room. “baby?”

he picks you up, bringing you to the bedroom. “let’s have a baby.”

“what?!”

he sighs, “fuck… seeing minjoon…”

“oh my god… because of minjoon?!”

“please?”

you pull him closer, “fine… but you’re doing all the work this time.”

“i’ll do anything for you, darling”

“hyune!”

he rushes to the bathroom, a big smile on his face. “yes?”

“i’m pregnant!”

he picks you up, spinning you around and kissing your face repeatedly.

“really? are you sure?”

“im sure! i took three to check!”

“agghhhh! i love you so much!”

“i love you too, hyune.”

he looks at you again, a lovesick look in his eyes, and he promptly sinks to his knees. he pulls your shirt up, kissing over your tummy and hugging you close. 

“can’t wait to see you all swollen with my baby…”

“god hyune, you’re so whipped”

“i know i am, but only for you, dear”

you pull him back up from the ground, bringing him to the bedroom and laying down with him. “you’re so cheesy.”

“and you love me”

“so much, hyune. you don’t even know.”

“you’re the light of my life.”

you nuzzle back into his shoulder, smiling until you feel a teardrop hit your cheek. you look up at him, slightly confused. 

“you’re so pretty my love…”

“why are you crying?”, you giggle. “i can’t believe you’re really mine…” you hug him tight, kissing his shoulder.

“always yours. only yours.”

<3

[nxtaliaistyping]

I don't know if you do poly scenes, but if so, could you do the riddler x reader x scarecrow? (the riddler and scarecrow put aside their differences to give their partner a very special birthday gift) (I love the way you write)

Scriddler making their gf’s birthday a special one

Authors note: thank you v much! And yes I do indeed write poly scenes (ngl I’ll write nearly anything). Their characterisations are very much inspired by @capr1pengu1n ‘s amazing two part series of threesome fics with Edward and Jonathan. [x] [x]

Nsfw 18+, fem reader, threesome obvs, fingering

“You bought her flowers?”

“Of course i did.” Edward snaps, rolling his eyes. “God haven’t you ever had a girlfriend before? Oh, scratch that, I know you haven’t.”

“Alright no need to get your panties in a twist.” Jonathan mumbles in return, ascending the final set of stairs before arriving at your apartment door. "Besides, I got her a gift. One besides flowers that'll die in a couple days."

Edward scoffs as he knocks on your door, casting a glance at the doctor. "You think I've only bought her flowers? I have another ace up my sleeve. Don't you know how much money I've acquired over the years?"

"Goddamn it will you stop talkin' like i'm broke-"

Both of their eyes snap to the door as you open it, smiling softly at seeing both of your boyfriends waiting for you. Edward, determined as ever to have all eyes on him, thrusts the flowers into your hands quickly before Jonathan can speak.

"A very happy birthday my dear." he chirps happily, and as you gush over the flowers he casts a self satisfied smirk Jonathan's way.

Jon coughs a little, before giving you a half smile. "Yeah, happy birthday darlin'."

You invite them both in, your cheeks already burning a little at the attention as you go to place Edward's flowers in a vase. Thinking you can hear them bickering again from the other room, you laugh and sit between them both on the sofa.

"Maybe try not to launch at eachother, at least until I've had my cake?" you say with a grin.

"Anything for you my love." Edward croons at you, giving you a cheeky kiss beneath your earlobe. Jonathan huffs, curling his arm around your waist.

"Got y'a little somethin'"

You turn to look as Jonathan opens his coat jacket and retrieves something from the large inner pocket. He produces a crow's feather, presumably his own crow Ichabod's, that had been pressed.

"Figured cause y'like to read, it could be a bookmark or somethin'..." He sounds unsure as he speaks, almost like he's embarrassed, but you take it with a bright smile.

"Oh Jonathan...it's beautiful. That's so thoughtful, thank you!"

He hums a little at your praise, mumbling a quick 'don't mention it.' before you kiss him on the cheek. As you pull away, Edward laughs softly at the slight red imprint you've left on his cheek with lipstick.

You go to clean it, before Edward catches your wrist. "I say we leave it, it suits him."

Jonathan grumbles and starts to wipe at his cheek with his sleeve, as Edward dramatically clears his throat. "Now it's my turn."

He pulls out a small box from his pocket, an emerald green bow delicately wrapped around it. You take it gently, undoing the bow and shimmying the box open.

Inside was a beautiful ring, clearly expensive. It held an emerald in the centre, but had a small engraved bird on the inside. You couldnt stop the tears that slightly form in your eyes as you gaze upon such a thoughtful gift.

“Edward I…I don’t know what to say…”

He smiles, you’d even have called it a genuine smile, and brushes some stray hairs from your face.

“How about a thank you?” He teases, to which Jonathan scoffs.

“Thank you Edward.” You giggle, and he mimes a bow.

“You’re very welcome darling.”

You can’t help but flush at the attention, taking the ring out and slipping it on your finger. The gemstone sparkles in the low light of your room, and you hold it up to get a closer look.

“Didn’t know you’d done that…havin’ us both represented I mean.” Jonathan says, his eyes glancing between the ring and Edward.

“Yes well, she’s lucky enough to have two of Gotham’s brightest and baddest doting over her, so she might as well have a representation of that.”

“Baddest? Didn’t know you were capable of speaking in grammatically incoherent sentences.”

“I was clearly saying it in jest, I thought my tone was evident. God it’s like you’ve never socialized with anyone apart from that damn crow of yours.”

“Well i appreciate it.” You say, cutting them both off. Giggling, you give Edward a kiss on the cheek before doing the same to Jonathan, but the more narcissistic of the two pouts.

“I got you an expensive ring, and all I get is a kiss on the cheek?”

Rolling your eyes, you lean over and capture his lips in a kiss, one that he quickly deepens. His hand cups your jaw, tongue licking at your lower lip as you swallow the slight mint taste of his mouth.

Jonathan shuffles along to be nearer, bony fingers tracing up and down your arm. His eyes roam your form, taking in the pretty dress you'd put on for the occasion. As Edward pulls away to pepper kisses along your jawline, he speaks.

"Did you wear this just f'us?"

You nod softly, as the two men smirk at your devotion, your eagerness to please even on your birthday of all days. Jonathan runs his hands appreciatively around your waist, feeling the soft material.

With a soft groan, Edward makes his way to your neck, sucking a soft mark into your clear skin. Taking the opportunity, your lips are captured by Jonathan's own, tasting the coffee and cigarettes that always permeates his mouth. The clear contrast between the two men always gives you whiplash in the best possible way, the two villains being so similar and yet so different.

It takes all of Edward's willpower to not just yank you into his lap, but alas he's learning to share. His gloved hands move to the back of your dress, feeling the zip and dragging it down a little, causing you to gasp into Jonathan's mouth.

"Edward..." you giggle, which elicits a chuckle in return.

"What? I believe we both owe you a more...intimate present."

He punctuates his words by zipping it down more and more, until your back is exposed. Jonathan laughs and helps, dragging the straps down until your tits spill out.

"No bra?" Jonathan remarks, before grabbing them before Edward could seize the opportunity. You arch into his touch, moaning softly as he circles his thumbs around your now erect nipples.

Edward decides to go to shimmy you further out of your dress, pushing it down and down until it hung loosely around your ankles. Now you were left only in your panties, which had grown embarrassingly wet at both of your boyfriend’s ministrations.

“Oh you wanted this, didn’t you darling? Wanted us to come over and ravage you for your celebration.”

You bite your lip, not wanting to admit you had indeed thought about it. Instead you can only watch as Edward starts to trail his hand up your bare thigh.

“Not even gonna take the gloves off?” Jonathan remarks, to which Edward returns a shit-eating grin.

“Would you be a dear and take them off for me?”

“Keep dreaming.”

You huff, reaching to take them off before Edward gently slaps your hands away. Instead he brings one to your lips, eyeing you expectantly as you gently bite and tug it off, repeating the same motion with the other one. He hums in satisfaction, and reward you by bringing two fingers to your clothed clit and starting to rub slow circles.

At your moan, Jonathan pinches your nipples just to watch you squirm, laughing to himself. He soothes them a little before leaning down and taking one into his mouth, sucking. You arch your back, before Edward decides to pull down your underwear and leave you completely exposed for the two of them.

“So wet…” he remarks, rubbing a finger casually up and down your soaked folds, before bringing it away and letting your slick shine on his fingertip.

“God she’s drippin’” Jonathan says in agreement, bringing a long finger down to do the same, only he dips his into your entrance a little, causing you to buck into his touch.

“Now now, no need to get impatient.” Edward says with a sharp slap to your thigh. “We’ll give you what you need. We always do.”

Whimpering at the slight pain, you still your movements so Jonathan can slip his finger inside. He groans gently at how tight you feel around his digit, moving it in and out in an almost experimental way.

Edward takes over fondling your tits, using both hands to caress and grab at the soft flesh. Soft little noises escape you, so Jonathan seeks to have you make more, pushing a second finger in and crooking them.

A gasp can be heard from your parted lips, and Jonathan keeps moving his fingers in and out, pumping them in a steady rhythm. The slick noises fill all of your ears, and Edward grins at the salaciousness of the act.

“I suppose we shouldn’t be too mean. It is your special day.” He teases, reaching down and starting to play with your clit in time with Jonathan’s fingering.

You nod in agreement, really wanting to get permission to cum. And both men seem determined for that to happen, with Jonathan bringing his free hand up to tweak at your nipple, while Edward’s free hand braces around the back of your neck, keeping you still.

The sensations get too much, and soon enough your cumming around their fingers with a soft cry, soaking the both of them. Edward moans the loudest, leaning down to get a closer look at when Jonathan removes his fingers with a soft squelch.

At your hole fluttering, the narcissist can’t help but move forward and lap up your cum with his tongue. You moan loudly at the sensitive feeling, but Jonathan clamps a hand around your hip to keep you from wriggling away too much. Luckily Edward doesn’t overstimulate for long, achieving his fill of your taste before pulling away.

“Now, I think the man who got you the better present should have the honours of fucking you first.”

“Bullshit, I was the one fingerin’ her. Besides mine was thoughtful.”

“As was mine! Luxury isn’t always cold you know. Well, of course you don’t know that, you wouldn’t know luxury if it slapped you around the face and knocked the stupid mask off.”

You can’t help but laugh softly. Even on your birthday, the bickering never stops. But as you lament that they both had great presents for you, so you can’t decide which one to choose…a wicked grin crosses their faces.

“Well if y’’can’t choose, I suppose it’ll have to be both of us.”

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 18.3k ❧ warnings: cursing, renjun gets CONSENSUALLY dosed with a magical aphrodisiac For Science ❧ genre: fluff, humor, one (1) heavy makeout scene but no actual smut, 0.1 seconds of angst if you can even call it that, academic rivals to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, siren reader, human renjun ft. siren ten, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: in my lore, siren scales are visible when they’re in more human-like forms because of magic, and it’s not an indication of their skin tone at all. so when the reader’s scales are mentioned, please don’t take this as any sort of allusion to them being pale/light-skinned! i tried to take care and make sure i wasn’t implying that in how i wrote it, but please tell me if it reads like that this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: y’all. get ready for this one. no spoilers but renjun and reader r both crazy and nobody should be subjected to them except each other. like they both look at the other and think “i could fix them but whatever the fuck is wrong with them is infinitely funnier to me” but they’re both Wrong. they could not fix the other. i don't want what they have but good for them. anyway as always i had way too much fun writing this that it went over my projected word count and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it too

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

“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”

2608, 2610, 2612…

The numbers of the study rooms you passed by went up, up, up, as you continued your hunt. You knew he’d be here. It was the day before the first test in your Linguistics in Magical Creatures Studies class, meaning he was going to be holed up in the library until closing time. Now it was just a matter of finding him. Somewhere quiet, obviously, which was why you’d completely skipped the first floor with its wide-open “collaboration areas.” The second floor was all bookshelves and private study rooms that would hold four or five students at most. You peered into the narrow window on each painted metal door as you walked down the hall. While the first floor was recently renovated with new technology and upgrades such as the “collaboration areas” and bright pops of your university’s school colors that made for great promotional photos to put on the website and pamphlets to hand out to new students, this floor hadn’t had seen anything more than a janitor in a good couple decades. The musty, stale smell of old, unused books was all around you, the air conditioning hummed and clicked irregularly, all the furniture had ugly, outdated patterns, and the exactly three desktop computers they did have in a far back corner were practically as old as you. Which, in the digital age, meant that they were artifacts belonging in a museum.

And of course, sitting at very last one, as if he had been hiding behind all of these bookshelves from you personally, was Huang Renjun.

Renjun was sat in the wooden chair facing the computer, clearly deep in thought. He had one foot propped up on the wide chair seat as both of his hands were on the archaic-looking keyboard, speedily typing something out. He wore a pair of jeans, yellow hoodie, and a red backwards baseball cap kept his hair out of his face. An open energy drink can and empty bag of chips on the desk next to him belied that he had already been there for some time.

Now that you had found your target, you put on a burst of speed, stalking up to him from the side and smacking your hand down on the tabletop beside him. “Renjun.”

The human jumped in his seat, looking up from his screen to you. Taking his hands from the keyboard, he made a couple quick clicks on the mouse as he used the other to take his headphones out of his ears. “Y/N. Fucking hell… is your new strategy this semester to give me a heart attack and kill me?”

“If murder was on the table as part of our little academic rivalry, don’t you think I would’ve just drowned you after our Intro course freshman year?” You asked, tilting your head innocently. After all, you were a siren, that would be much easier than scaring him into an early cardiac episode.

Huang Renjun was not your friend. Not necessarily an acquaintance either, you’d known him for going on four years now, since your first class on your first day of college. The two of you were in the same Introduction to Magical Creatures Studies class. He had sat in the very front row, you just behind him in the second row. When your professor had asked an open question to the class, both you and Renjun eagerly blurted out the answer, Renjun just a millisecond before you. Dr. Li gave him the credit, and also requested that you two raise your hands in the future. And from then on you hated Huang Renjun.

Well, hate may be a strong word. You overlapped in at least two classes every semester being in the same major, and were both chronic overachievers. The first to raise your hands when a question was asked, studying in the library until closing (separately), and visiting professors’ office hours just to discuss topics from class further. Your professors noticed this. Some would pit the two of you against each other, and others would try to pair you up, whether on projects, research, or just in general, as a meeting of the minds or whatever. And you two would get your project done, pocket your As, and part ways again. Academic rival slash frenemy was the best way you could describe who Huang Renjun was to you.

“Who knows, you might still, if they ask me to carry the banner,” he muttered, picking his pen up and spinning it between his fingers.

This was your last semester, both you and Renjun were graduating in just a few months. At commencement, each department picked one “outstanding student” to lead the progression, carrying a flag with the department’s name and seal on it. This semester it was Magical Creatures Studies’ turn to select a student for the College of Humanities and Social Sciences, and your program head had already heavily implied that they could choose either you or Renjun, but they hadn’t made their final decision yet.

This was actually a pretty good segue into what you were really here to talk to him about. Pulling your lips into an alluring smirk, you nodded, “You’re right. It doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out that—”

“A fucking what?” He cut you off, his face scrunching up as he blinked at you in confusion.

“Obviously it’s going to be one of us two, since we’re the two best students in the program.”

“Well, yes.” He nodded, seeming to let go of what had presumably been another one of your jumbled human malaphors. You admittedly hadn’t been living among humans for terribly long, and for some reason their idioms just didn’t stick in your brain very well.

“I mean, we not only are dedicated to the field itself and the content we study in class, but the program too. We probably know everybody in it, professors and students, right? Between the two of us?”

Renjun considered this for a moment. “Yeah, probably. We’ve both taken on a lot of SI and tutor opportunities for lower-level classes.”

“Right. So, you know those forums the school has on the online class platform? The general message boards?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m going to need you to sit tight with me on this until I finish talking, okay?” You pointed at him sternly. He nodded slowly. “Good. Back in the fall, about the end of September, I was on the message boards, just browsing around killing time. I was in the Tips & Advice section and saw this post. It was a gryphon who was losing feathers on one specific spot on her wing, and she didn’t know why. The witch she went to didn’t know why, nobody could figure it out. I was about to reply asking if it was her left or right, when I saw that somebody else already had. It was her left, and she’s a lefty. The same person replied again, asking if she sleeps with her wings out or not. She sleeps with them out. It turns out she was stress-preening in her sleep. Username: dr_magic2303. A couple weeks later, same message board, Tips & Advice, a human is suddenly producing dark purple goop from his feet but it’s so slippery he can’t even leave to go see a doctor or a witch and he was typing the post from his bathroom. Within an hour, this Dr. Magic is back telling him someone’s put an aether ooze hex on him, and to sit down and scoot on his butt to the kitchen and gather up all these ingredients for a cleansing foot bath. And if he doesn’t have them, then he’ll have to butt-scoot his way to an apothecary or call one who does home deliveries. Now people are posting on there specifically asking Dr. Magic to come heal all their magical aches and pains.”

Renjun stared at you, unblinking. The pen had gone still in his hand.

You breathed in, continuing, “I tracked this Dr. Magic all the way back to their first post in the first week of fall semester of this year. Now, I’ve been trying to figure out who they are on my own, and I’ve made a lot of progress on who they aren’t. But I’m going to lose access to those message boards once we graduate at the end of the semester. I know Dr. Magic has to be an MCS major, there’s no way they would be able to have to breadth, depth, and flexibility of knowledge by just Googling this stuff. And you and me, Renjun, I know we can do this. Not only do we know MCS, but we know the department, the people in it. It has to be us.”

He was still staring at you, mouth slightly agape. Then, his whole demeanor shifted. He dropped his leg so that both his feet were on the ground, and he resumed spinning the pen.

“Okay. I’ll help you.” He nodded thoughtfully. “If you’ll do something for me.”

“Do what?” You straightened up.

“I’ll tell you after we find Dr. Magic.”

You crossed your arms. “No, tell me now or no deal.”

“I tell you after, but you can still say no then if you don’t want to do it.” He bargained.

“That just sounds even more concerning, Renjun. Tell me now or I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m hurt. What happened to ‘it has to be us?’”

“I’m a siren, I know how to sweet talk. Don’t take it personally.” You snorted. “Now, what do you want from me?”

“You’re a siren,” he echoed plainly, as if that were all the explanation you needed.

“And you’re a genius.” You retorted. “Tell me now or I walk out.”

“I... want to experience siren venom. For science.”

Oh, you could kiss him right now, no deal necessary. He was meeting your gaze head-on, a slightly unhinged glint in his eye. Not a hint of fear, just a craving for new experiences, unbridled curiosity. Yeah, he was a bit crazy, you were realizing four years on, and you wanted him.

“You’re insane.”

He leaned back in his seat, putting his hands up in front of him in an ‘I-don’t-care’ gesture, “If you don’t want to find Dr. Magic—”

“I didn’t say no, I said you’re insane,” you corrected him with a grin, dragging your eyes up and down his form as he sat so confidently, negotiating with a siren like it was any average Tuesday for him.

“So do we have a deal?” He set his pen down and held a hand out to you.

“You help me find Dr. Magic, then I’ll spit in your mouth.” You momentarily thought about the disparity in division of labor on that, but decided not to point it out aloud. Easiest handshake of your life. “Deal.”

You wanted to eat him alive.

“You’ve tried IP tracking?” Renjun asked, scrolling through your word document of notes that you’d accumulated on Dr. Magic.

“‘You’ve tried IP tracking?’” You mimicked him under your breath, making your voice so high-pitched to the point of mocking.

He rolled his eyes.

This was your first meet-up to try to hunt down Dr. Magic together. It was a couple weeks after he had agreed to help you in the first place. There was a test and some assignments in a few of your classes to get through first before either of you had enough spare time to dedicate to this. But now the two of you were back in the library, having taken a study room on the second floor and set up with your own laptops. You’d sent him your notes to look through on it while you perused the message board for any new posts from Dr. Magic.

“You do know that any geographical location an IP address can give you will just be the city, right? It’s not like the movies,” you snorted, dropping your voice back down to your normal intonation as you shook your head. “Anyway, I did do some extra legwork with the IPs, and matched most of them to desktop computers here in the library. I think the others are a personal device, their laptop or something.”

“They’re all different.”

You tutted at him, “Oh, you sweet Thursday’s child…”

“That’s not the say—”

“They’re all somehow on other continents. Now, I don’t think Dr. Magic teleporting abroad and cross-dimensionally to make forum posts.”

“VPN?”

“Definitely. They’re covering their tracks, they almost never use their own device, and when they have to, they use a VPN to cover up the IP address of it.”

He made a noise of acknowledgement, eyes still focused on his screen.

Then, something on the forum caught your eye. “Oh! Right here. Thirty-six minutes ago, a dryad posted that she can’t sprout daffodils from her body anymore. Every other plant and flower are fine, except daffodils. She posted it specifically asking Dr. Magic if they know what’s wrong with her.”

“Huh.” Renjun’s brow furrowed. “Just daffodils?”

“That’s what it says,” you confirmed, making a few clicks on your computer. “And… ‘notify me.’”

“You can turn on notifications for forum posts?”

“You can’t,” you informed him smugly. “But one of the sirens in my pod, he’s got a bunch of CompSci friends who I paid to write a browser extension for me that bookmarks forum posts and sends me email notifications when anybody replies to them. So I’ll know exactly when Dr. Magic responds.”

“You…”

“Have definitely spent too much time, energy, and money on this, I know. Sunken cost fallacy, look it up.”

“I was going to say ‘are insane,’” he breathed out, his voice a mixture of awe and disbelief.

When you looked up from your computer at him, you saw that he had a curious gaze fixated on you, eyes narrowed slightly, mouth parted, and head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

You leaned forward minutely, holding his eye contact. “Takes one to know one, Junnie.”

He looked down at his keyboard, shifting in his seat before he looked back up at you. “Why are you calling me that?”

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you do like it.” You smirked.

He frowned. “I didn’t say that either.”

“Well do you?”

“Answer my question.”

“Answer mine.”

“I asked first.”

“Ooh, how very primary school,” you teased, setting your chin in your hand.

“It’s only fair.” He pointed out.

“We could flip a coin.”

“Y/N.”

“Junnie.”

The human sighed, holding your eye contact wordlessly, looking entirely unamused.

You finally gave in with a casual shrug. “I just am.”

“Seriously? We’ve known each other for four years and you’ve never called me that—you’ve called me plenty of other things—but now suddenly you’ve got a nickname for me?”

“I’m not trying to be derogatory with it, if you’re worried about that,” you clarified. “Just sort of happened. I’m a siren, I flirt with cute people, sorry. Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing some off his face as he turned his focus back down to his screen. “It’s fine.”

“Anyway, I bookmarked the new forum post, so it’ll go on the board.”

“The board?”

“I, uh, I may be using a spare wall in my apartment to host a conspiracy theory board with you know, the red string and thumbtacks and stuff…” You admitted quietly.

“Can I see it?”

“Ho-ly shit,” Renjun breathed out, staring up at the multiple time-stamped printouts of forum posts, pictures of classmates and faculty, sticky notes, and yards of red string that you had pinned to a blank wall in your apartment.

You stood next to him, gazing up at your creation with a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment. This was the first time you’d let someone see this, and you were kind of glad it was Renjun. He actually seemed impressed. You were sure that any of your friends and family would be weirded out at best, and very concerned at worst.

“Yeah, I’m adding color copies off the school printers to the invoice I’m sending Dr. Magic at the end of all this.”

“You’re sending them an invoice for your self-assigned mission to hunt them down?” He snorted.

“Yup. It’s their fault for not using their school-issued login.” You crossed your arms. “Makes them enigmatic.”

Your classmate pointed to one of the headshots. “Is that Dr. Li?”

“Did you think our scope was narrowed to just students? Faculty have access to the message boards, too. And we’ve learned everything we know from our professors, so they obviously have the knowledge and skill to be Dr. Magic.”

“And their names also start with Doctor.” He added dryly, which you took to be a joke.

You decided that it wasn’t at your expense, though, and after giving a short chuckle, continued on with your explanation of why you specifically had your program head up on the board. “When I was grilling Dr. Li for information in the fall, he was giving me very duplicitous answers. Pointed me towards a freshman who I swear didn’t even know the difference between Arctic sirens and glacial sirens.”

“You think it was a diversion.”

“Obviously.”

Renjun tapped his chin thoughtfully. “What sort of questions were you asking him?”

“I couldn’t straight up ask him if he was Dr. Magic. So I was asking him things like... other than you and me, who did he think was the best student in the program, that kind of stuff. Said that kid reminded him of you and me on that first day of Intro to MCS.” You couldn’t help but let out an indignant scoff at the idea. “Can you believe? Didn’t know the difference between Arctic and glacial sirens…”

“Who was it?”

“Some basilisk in one of his Intro classes last semester. Uh…” You snapped your fingers as you tried to remember his name. “Seunghan! Hong Seunghan!”

“Seriously?” The human turned to look at you incredulously, clearly offended at the comparison as well.

“Seriously!”

He clutched at his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. “That’s who he thinks is the next us? I was an SI for that class…”

“I know! He’s not the brightest tool in the shed, huh?”

“So close, Y/N. So close…” He sighed.

“It almost completely threw me off my search for Dr. Magic. I figured I needed to seriously step up my game in his undergrad research or something.” You shook your head at the horrible memory. “Then I realized he might have been trying to get me to do exactly that.”

“Huh.” Renjun folded his arms over his chest as he looked away, pretending not to seem interested. “You did research with Dr. Li last semester?”

“Don’t give me those kicked puppy dog eyes, you’re doing research with Dr. Kwon this semester and she’s like, my academic idol!” You pointed at him accusatorily.

“And Dr. Li is mine!”

You waved your arms in front of you, shaking yourself out of the academic envy-induced frenzy you’d gotten worked up into. “We’re getting off-topic. We’re here to catch Dr. Magic, remember?”

“Right…” He took a deep breath, turning back to the conspiracy wall.

As Renjun studied your work, you studied him. You had a strand of fairy lights clipped up above the conspiracy wall for light and ambiance (mostly ambiance), and they now lit his features from the front. He didn’t have a baseball cap on today, leaving his brown hair to fall over his forehead, down past his eyebrows and just into his eyes. He blinked and shook his head slightly. A piece had presumably been bothering him. The curving slope of the bridge of his nose, his lips, his chin that he still had one hand propped up to hold, a finger tapping against his cupid’s bow like a metronome. You listened closer, curious if it would be mimicking the beat of his heart. The tapping was just slightly slower than his heart, and would stop if he found something that he took particular interest in, then start back up when he moved on again.

Not that you were going to tell him, but you were double motivated to find Dr. Magic now. Seeing Renjun under your venom was going to be a reward all on its own. You understood full well why he felt like he needed to ask you as part of an exchange like this, but he seemed to greatly underestimate his own selling value. Which was good for you. This was a win-win-win in your eyes.

Thinking of the deal made you curious, though. He had that request ready to go almost like…

“So, do you want to be petrified by a basilisk, too?”

Renjun didn’t take his eyes off the wall. “Already have been.”

“Really?”

“My friend Mark is a basilisk. When he had just gotten his powers a couple years ago and couldn’t control them, he kept accidentally petrifying his human roommate. So I figured out when it was most likely to happen, invited myself over and hid his sunglasses. It was strange, being able to think but not speak, see but not blink, and telling my muscles to move and not having them obey.” He casually detailed what sounded like one of the most horrifying experiences ever to you, leaning in towards a specific post from November. “But it only lasted one minute and twenty-nine seconds.”

You stared at him with both admiration and alarm. “You manufactured an opportunity to get petrified.”

“I knew he wouldn’t do it if I asked. He’s a wimp. That, and he couldn’t do it on command at the time, even if he did agree.”

“Have you had your blood drank?”

“Yup.”

“Been flying?”

“How so?” His eyes flicked over to you for a second, and you were glad that you had relaxed again with the more casual conversation.

“With a gryphon, phoenix, take your pick.” You shrugged.

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you have a list for this stuff or something?”

“Written down, no. But I suppose I have a mental list.”

“Poisoned by a wyvern?”

“Would have to find one first.”

You felt your eyes bug out of your head. “You want to be poisoned by a wyvern? You know there’s no cure for that, right?”

“Yes, I took the same class that you did on them last spring.” He reminded you tersely. Your head jerked back minutely, surprised for a second that he had noticed, remembered, and brought it up. The two of you didn’t have a spat in that class, taking an ‘ignore and pretend the other doesn’t exist’ approach that semester when you could, and hadn’t mentioned it since. Seeming to realize what he’d done, Renjun rushed to move on, “So I also know that there’s no cure because they went extinct hundreds of years ago.”

“Supposedly.”

“You think they’re still out there?”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.” He stepped to the side to read over the next post from the first week of December.

You scoffed. “Okay, coming from the guy who believes in aliens.”

“We haven’t explored all of space. But we know what habitats wyverns lived in, and they’re not there anymore.”

“They could’ve adapted, gone somewhere else,” you tried to argue. “I’m not exactly splashing around the ocean right now, am I?”

“Where did they go, then?”

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted, holding yourself by your arms protectively.

“Hmph.”

You tightened your grip, swallowing hard against the lump threatening to grow in your throat. “I just don’t want to believe they’re gone, okay?”

“So this isn’t a scientific hypothesis, but some rosy daydream?” Renjun’s disapproval of the lack of academic rigor in your argument was clear in his tone as his eyes never left your wall, following a red string up to your next connection for Dr. Magic.

“I don’t want to believe that wyverns went extinct because that means that sirens could too! Alright?” You finally snapped, hands squeezing tightly around your biceps as your claws came out with the raw burst of emotion. “I know that Magical Conservation was just some class to you, but I had to sit there and take notes on how exactly the native habitats of sirens—me, my friends, my family—are shrinking, and could theoretically lead to our extinction, and then write a discussion post on it after like it was some intellectually stimulating bit of information. So yeah, maybe I like to imagine that there’s still wyverns out there somewhere, because it gives me a modicum of hope that after everything, there could still be sirens, too. Sorry that that’s not academic enough.”

The image of Renjun that you had been yelling at in front of you was wavering as tears swam in your vision. He’d turned around to listen, mouth parting as he seemed to immediately realize his mistake. The human nodded regretfully, running a hand through his hair before finally picking his words.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to be so dismissive. I-I misread the tone of the discussion. Sirens aren’t wyverns, and you won’t meet the same fate they might have. Siren advocacy and conservation groups are making huge progress. The world now is a lot different than it was hundreds of years ago,” Renjun said, and you could hear both the remorse and firm belief in his tone. “And who knows, maybe there are still some wyverns out there. I could be wrong... it’s been known to happen before.”

You took a deep breath, your claws receding back into your fingers and just leaving your normal fingernails. As you looked down at your arms, though, you let out a sigh.

“Damn, I got myself.” You clicked your tongue in your throat regretfully, spotting a few drops of what looked like molten silver metal welling to the surface where you’d punctured your skin.

“Ooh,” Renjun winced sympathetically. “Do you have some… bandages?”

“Even better, I’ve got running water.” You started towards the door, then noted that there were no footsteps behind you. Turning back around, you looked at the human knowingly. “Do you want to watch, Renjun?”

He perked up. “Please?”

“Come on,” you jerked your head, holding your arms level as you shuffled towards your kitchen.

Thankfully, you hadn’t been nearly deep enough to get your scales, just the skin overtop. Turning the kitchen faucet on, you grabbed one of your sleeves, then looked at your classmate imploringly.

“A little help, Junnie?” You nodded towards your other arm, where the end of your sleeve was getting close to your blood.

“Oh, sure.” He surged forward to help you roll up the other one.

“I know you know this but be careful not to touch my blood,” you reminded him, finally pulling up the sleeve you’d started on well enough. Siren blood was a neurotoxin to humans—and not the fun kind like your venom, but a proper ‘kill you in an excruciatingly painful way’ kind.

“Uh-huh, got it.”

A couple drops on your left and a drop on your right had run down to your elbows, and you just managed to catch yourself so that they dripped into the sink and not onto your counter (or gods forbid, Renjun). Looking over to make sure he was watching, you stuck your left bicep under the stream of water first. The ocean blue scales that peeked through your skin shimmered in the kitchen lights directly above your head. Thankfully you hadn’t come anywhere close to nicking one of those. That would’ve actually hurt. Within a second of touching the water your skin had meshed itself back together. You turned your arm to rinse off the blood, then brought it back out to show that there was no scar left. Doing the same with the other, it healed just as quick, no mark left behind to indicate that anything had ever happened.

“Yep…” Renjun breathed out as you grabbed a hand towel and went to dry off your arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.”

“How many does that make?” You giggled.

“What?”

“How many creatures have you seen magically heal themselves? What number am I?”

“You make me sound so…”

“Like a common MCS whore?”

“I was going to say clinical, but damn, tell me how you really feel, Y/N.”

Both of you laughed, and you put the hand towel back.

“You’re the first siren,” Renjun answered your question genuinely anyway.

You hummed as you mulled this over. “I’ll take it.”

He made a dramatic motion of wiping sweat off his forehead, and you reached forward to smack his forearm. You two laughed again.

After a bout of comfortable silence, your eyes settled on him again, still thinking about exactly how you’d accidentally stabbed yourself in the first place.

“I forgive you, by the way,” you said. “I don’t think I said that.”

“You didn’t.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

“You really mean all that? You think I’ll—we’ll be okay? Sirens?”

“Of course I mean it. Or I wouldn’t have said it. It’s the most scientifically plausible. I did take that Magical Conservation class seriously, you know. I know it couldn’t have meant the same thing for me as it means to you, but I did my final paper on siren conservation projects in the Arctic. The progress that’s being made there is incredible. I-I don’t want to tell you about your own species’ problems, obviously, but—”

“I did mine on siren conservation in the tropics.” You let out a dry chuckle at the flawless symbiosis. “You can tell me about your paper sometime, Renjun.”

“And I’d love to hear about siren conservation in the tropics.”

“Ah, ‘a meeting of the minds.’” You did your best impression of Dr. Li, thinning your voice out to sound like an elderly man, which garnered a smile from Renjun. “Isn’t this what our professors always wanted?”

“Uh-oh. We’re giving them exactly what they want.” He shook his head ruefully. “Quick, you need to start yelling at me about something.”

“Well you need to say something obnoxious first.”

Another gentle lull in the conversation, and you watched as Renjun looked around your apartment a lot more carefully than when you two had first entered. Your destination then had been solely the conspiracy wall, but now he seemed to be really taking it in.

“So why don’t you have like… a fish tank or something?” He asked.

“Because that would be cruel! Imagine if someone kept you in a 2-foot by 2-foot box!” You jabbed a finger into his chest accusatorily.

He held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. That was a stupid question.”

“I’m glad you said it, because I was about to.”

“So why don’t you reply? To the posts.” Renjun asked curiously, back to trolling the message boards for new Dr. Magic posts. You two were holed up in your second floor study room again. “You’ve been tracking Dr. Magic so closely, you’re getting to these posts before they do, and you can help all these students, too. So why don’t you just reply instead?”

Yours and Renjun’s search for Dr. Magic had been going on for a month now, and he’d been proving himself useful. He’d finally convinced you to rule out Dr. Li as a suspect when he found a message board post made from a school computer while Dr. Li was away at a conference giving a presentation. Confirmed to be done at the exact same time. So you’d found another wrong person, but you still didn’t feel any closer to the right person. The remaining people felt like they were going to turn out to be dead ends, and there was nobody good to rule in either.

Spring break was coming up in a few weeks, which meant that commencement preparations would be starting, which meant that the colleges would be announcing who would be chosen to carry their banners, which meant the actual students who were going to be chosen would be told at least a week or two ahead of time. Every time you thought about that you wanted to bite something. Maybe there was some ancestral link between sirens and werewolves. Another paper waiting to be written.

“They don’t want me. They want Dr. Magic.” You told Renjun, hating the irritable edge in your voice when you addressed him. You weren’t upset with him, you were just anxious in general. He didn’t deserve to have you take it out on him.

“Right. Sorry…”

“No, Renjun, I’m sorry,” you sighed, taking the wood pencil out of your mouth that you had been gnawing on. “I just want to get this Dr. Magic stuff over with before midterms because you and I are both going to get super busy studying for midterms, and then no matter which one of us gets picked to carry the banner, that’s going to suck up a lot of time preparing for commencement too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you though, sorry.”

He offered you a small smile. “It’s okay, I get it. It’s another deadline. But it’s a group project, remember? We’ve got this, Y/N.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. Just feeling the pressure. I’m going to get something from the vending machine. You coming?”

“No, I’ll keep chugging along.”

“Okay. You want anything?”

“Nah. Thanks, though.”

“Alright,” you nodded, standing up and rolling your neck out. “I’m going to stretch my legs while I’m up, so I’ll be a few.”

“I won’t sound the alarm then.” He gave you a two-fingered salute as you headed to the door.

You meandered around the second floor, taking your sweet time to get to the stairs. There was a vending machine on the second floor, but it had a limited selection. The good snacks were all in the vending machines on the first floor, by the collaboration zones. Your back cracked all on its own as you plodded down the steps, and you let quiet groans with each one, until you finally landed on the first floor. There was a noticeable hum to the first floor, which only increased as you neared the two-thirds of the floor that was taken up by the collaboration zones. The vending machines were on the boundary of the bookshelves and the open spaces filled with tables and TV monitors and so many students.

Stopping in front of the drinks machine first, you mused over the options for a moment. Picking out your preferred seaweed-infused iced tea—an option you only saw sirens and the really hardcore human health-nuts drink—you then sidestepped to the snacks. It took you just a second to select a pack of mini peanut butter sandwich cookies. Neither peanut butter nor peanuts themselves were in the regular diet of a siren, but Renjun sometimes had the cookies on him for one of his werewolf friends and you’d picked up a taste for them. You would’ve never considered even trying them before hanging out with Renjun. Being an MCS major, you didn’t like to admit it, but your social circle wasn’t very diverse species-wise. You had your siren pod, and you were very happy sticking with them, thank you. Renjun, meanwhile, seemed to be best friends or friendly acquaintances with everything except a wyvern. You knew plenty about other species, after all, you excelled in class. But practical experience, you were finding you seemed to be lacking in. Maybe you should start your own Renjun-esque bucket list. Something to consider after finding Dr. Magic.

Taking a step back over to the drinks machine, you made the split-second decision to get Renjun’s favorite non-caffeinated, non-alcoholic drink. Honeydew melon soda. He had already said that you didn’t need to get him anything, but you wanted to.

“Hey, Y/N!” A cheerful voice greeted you, and you spun around, your two drinks and bag of sandwich cookies in hand.

You already knew who it was going to be, smiling at the familiar face of Ten. He was not only another siren, but specifically a siren from your pod, ocean blue scales and golden eyes matching your own. You threw your arms around his neck to give him a hug. “Ten! Ah, hey!”

“Are those… peanut butter?” He looked at the snack in your hand suspiciously.

“Uh, human study buddy,” you brushed off his concerns nonchalantly.

“Right, gotcha.”

The two of you usually hung out a lot—about as much as you and Renjun were together now, you figured—but since your spare time had been taken up with putting the search for Dr. Magic on full throttle, you were blanking on the last time you’d seen him. The beginning of the semester. Oh shit, you felt so guilty now.

The apology immediately started spilling out of your mouth, “Gods, I am so sorry we haven’t hung out, I wish I could say it was classes, or even research or something, but I’ve got this project. I can’t even really explain it without sounding crazy but—”

“Woah, Y/N, it’s okay,” Ten reassured you with a laugh, the same bright smile on his face as always. “I know how you get when you get really into one of your projects. Just let me know when you’ve finished it, and we can hang. Or if you ever need a break from it, too. It’s fine. If you weren’t a little crazy and obsessive, I wouldn’t be able to recognize you.”

He ruffled your hair with a snicker for good measure, and with your hands full of food, you couldn’t fight back, just huff and try to duck out of the way. But he was genuine about his sentiments, which really did make you feel better.

“Thanks, Ten. I’ll get in touch soon, I promise. I think I’m almost done!” You told him proudly.

“Soon in normal person time or soon in Y/N time?”

“Me time…”

“That’s what I thought. I’ll see you in six months then.”

“I’m not that bad!”

“Remember when I wondered aloud if sirens at the North and South poles were related, and you ended up spending our entire winter break researching that?”

“It only took four weeks!”

“You said it would be a quick search.”

“Exactly! People will dedicate their entire lives to that kind of research! I vastly condensed it!”

He shook his head fondly at the memory, elbowing you gently. “Get back to your project so you can finish early again and we can hang out soon, okay? And scoot, I’m trying to use the vending machine. You’re always in my way, I swear.”

You playfully pretended to block him, laughing as he nudged you out of the way with his shoulder. Starting back off towards the stairs, you turned around to give a cheery, “See you, Ten!”

“Bye, Y/N!” He waved to you with one hand, punching in the vending machine code with the other.

In better spirits having seen your friend, you traipsed up the stairs with extra pep in your step. Except Renjun wasn’t in your study room. Huh. Well, nothing in the rules saying a guy can’t take a bathroom break.

Setting his melon soda down next to his laptop, you plopped back down in your chair and kicked your feet up on the table. You ripped open your peanut butter sandwich cookies and cracked open your tea. The cookies were sweet, and while you didn’t have any oceanic reference for what peanut butter tasted like (you were told that “nutty” was a flavor profile unto itself, which wasn’t very helpful), you had decided that you liked it.

Waking your laptop back up, you saw that you had a new email, and shot up in your seat when you saw the subject.

dr_magic2303 replied to a post.

8 minutes ago.

Holy fucking shit, 8 minutes ago. While you were in the library? They could still be there. You looked around frantically. Where the fuck was Renjun when you needed him? Shooting to your feet, you snatched your phone from the table and rushed to throw the door open. Into Renjun’s face.

He stumbled back, holding his face as he let out a string of curses.

“Shit! Sorry, Junnie!” You didn’t sound all too sorry as you bounced on your feet, antsy to get a move on with your search. “No time for an ice pack though. Dr. Magic just replied to that dragon post we had bookmarked eight minutes ago. Which means that they’re probably still in the library! We need to go look for them right now!”

You took off in the direction of the desktop computers on this floor, keeping your voice at a fervent whisper-yell. The second floor computers were their favorite, according to the IPs.

“I know!” Renjun hurried after you, still clutching his nose. “I saw the email, and I tried to call you, but you left your phone in the study room.”

Checking your phone, you did in fact have a missed call from Renjun from 6 minutes ago. Well shit.

“So I went to go get you, but you weren’t at the vending machines, so I came back up to the study room and then nearly got my nose broken.”

You looked over your shoulder at him with wide eyes. “You went to get me? Not look for Dr. Magic on the freshest lead we’ve ever had? When they were quite possibly around the corner?”

The two of you had arrived at the desktops, and there was nobody in sight. One was awake, on the account login screen, the other two asleep on the ancient screensavers. You let out a heavy sigh, looking over at Renjun.

“I went to get you because this is your thing, not mine. I don’t know, I’d figured you’d want the satisfaction of taking the mask off them.”

You nodded. “Thanks, Junnie. Next time, though, just get them.”

“And how about you keep your phone on you?”

“So we both fucked it up.”

He gave you a one-shouldered shrug. “There’s still three more floors, Y/N.”

“Right, come on. You take the first, I’ll go up to the fourth since I smacked you with the door.”

The other floors were busts, and when you finally met back up with Renjun in your study room, you were glad to have your cold bottle of tea waiting for you. Knocking back a third of it in one go, you let out a noise of relief. Renjun had already opened the soda you’d gotten him.

“Thanks, by the way.” He held it up gratefully before taking a sip.

“You’re welcome.”

“And, I’m sorry. That I let Dr. Magic get away.”

“We don’t even know what floor they were posting from yet. They’ve could’ve been on the fourth floor and would’ve been gone by the time you got there anyway.” You brushed away his apologies. “Or they could’ve been on the second and been a psycho and you would’ve been a poor defenseless human all by yourself.”

“Oh, right, without my big strong siren to protect me.” He scoffed. “Woe is me.”

“Exactly,” you laughed, shutting your laptop. “Anyway, I’ll take a look at the IP later. Who knows, they might not have even been in the library. Might’ve been one of those rogue VPN posts.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He looked over you packing up your things. “You heading out?”

You nodded, zipping up your bag and tossing it onto your shoulder. “Prior arrangements. Sorry to cut this short, completely forgot about it when we agreed to meet up.”

“You’re so popular.”

“I know!” You mimicked his sarcastic tone, holding the door open with your foot as you stopped in the threshold. “Oh, hey— the midterm in MCS Linguistics. It’s my only one this semester, I’ve just got papers in all my other classes. Do you want to study together for that?”

“Yeah, sure, sure.”

“First session Saturday? My place for lunch?”

Renjun grimaced, presumably remembering your typical stock of pantry items tailored to a siren’s food preference. “I’ll pack a lunch.”

“Cool. See you in class, Junnie!” You waved to him cheerily as you took off for the faculty advisor meeting with Dr. Kwon that you were going to need to run across campus to be on time for.

“What is it?” Renjun set his book down where he was sat across your coffee table from you, an inquisitive eyebrow quirked up at you.

“What? Nothing.” You bit down on your lip, eyes boring holes into your computer screen.

“No, it’s not ‘nothing.’ You’ve been staring at me ever since I got here, while also refusing to make eye contact with me. What? Something in my teeth? My hair look bad?”

Normally that would’ve made you chuckle—he was wearing a backwards baseball cap again today—but you just bit down harder on your lip and shook your head.

“Now you’re refusing to talk?” He scoffed. “Did you get hexed or something? I can’t believe you’re refusing to talk.”

“No, I can talk,” you insisted. “What uh, what’d you get for number four? On the review packet?”

“Don’t tell me you’re still stuck on number four. Y/N, I’m almost done, and there’s twenty-five questions on this.”

“I’m not, I finished and went back, it was just one that I didn’t—”

But Renjun had grabbed your computer and turned the screen around, and you knew he could see that you had only done the first one. You buried your face in your hands, your skin prickling uncomfortably with shame. Your friend’s sigh was audible, but surprisingly, the next thing said wasn’t a string of derision. Instead, you heard the shuffle of clothes against your rug, and then he was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and knee-to-knee with you.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you today? Or, not today, the past couple days? You weren’t all there in class yesterday either. I left it alone then because it was Dr. Hyun, and nobody is ever all there for her classes but— what’s wrong?”

You slowly shook your head.

“You can’t tell me?”

You nodded.

“Okay. Is it bad? Like, dangerous?”

You shook your head.

“Alright, that’s good.” The relief was audible in his voice. “Is it family? Or, pod?”

You shook your head.

“School?”

You nodded.

“Alright, yeah. A lot going on. Is it like burn out?”

You shook your head.

“So, new stuff?”

You nodded.

He put an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you already had a lot. Getting this midterm over with will be one more thing off your checklist, right? That’ll open a spot for this new thing.”

With a sniffle, you nodded.

“Ah, but you’re not going to be any good studying like this.” He sighed again, dropping his arm from around your shoulders and his presence shifted away from your side. “Come on, quick field trip. Then we’ll come right back to the MCS Linguistics grind. Sound good?”

You finally took your hands from your face to look up. Renjun was standing right next to you, offering you a hand. You tentatively put yours in his, and he tightened his grip to pull you up to your feet.

The two of you ended up in a froyo shop down the street from your apartment. You gleefully picked a gummy shark off the top of your swirl, biting the head off first before tossing the rest in your mouth. Renjun lifted a meticulously curated spoonful of froyo and toppings to his mouth, satisfaction on his face as he tasted his perfect bite. You watched in amusement as he went to start creating his next scoop that had the precise ratio of yogurt and every single topping he had chosen—each partitioned to their own area atop the froyo. You decided to save your second big gummy shark for last, and took a big spoonful from the melting edge of your froyo.

“Why not me?” Renjun asked abruptly, his gaze still on the dessert in front of him.

“Huh?” Your jaw dropped. How could he have known what—

“You haven’t asked me if I’m Dr. Magic. Why not?”

Ah, Dr. Magic. Of course.

“You were my first guess, and the first person I ruled out back in like September,” you admitted with a shrug.

His head snapped up at that. “What? Why?”

“Because you’re such an arrogant, neurotic overachiever that you’d want credit if you did all this. You wouldn’t use an alias.”

“Oh. Huh.” Renjun looked between you and his froyo, a sheepish smile coming to his face. “Strangely, that makes me feel better.”

You watched a dollop of froyo fall off your spoon and plop back into your cup. “And I nabbed your IP address off your laptop the first time we hung out in January and double-checked it with every Dr. Magic post. Just in case.”

“When I was in the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Of course you did.”

“Were you taking it as an insult to your intelligence that I had apparently not considered you as an option?”

“Maybe…”

You laughed, and laughed, and laughed. You laughed so hard your sides hurt, there were tears in your eyes, and you genuinely started wheezing. Renjun pretended to roll his eyes, but you saw the smile on his face and knew what he was thinking: success, no more mopey siren.

Once you had enough air back in your lungs to talk, you pointed your spoon at him firmly. “See? Just proving my point. You want people to know you’re smart.”

He crossed his arms. “As if you don’t.”

“Oh, I definitely do. But I know I’m like that.” You put a hand over your chest, looking him dead in the eye. “Do you?”

With your head screwed back on the normal amount, you and Renjun were able to dive back into your study session at your apartment. Several hours into it, though, you noticed Renjun blinking like way too much and constantly rubbing at his eyes. It was to the point where it was distracting for you.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” You asked bluntly.

That immediately burst the Renjun griping dam (which was really held together with tape and prayers anyway). “The screens hurt my eyes and human blue light glasses don’t do shit and no fairy has let me try theirs out. I know I should probably just take the plunge and buy them but I really can’t justify the price and—”

“Try mine.” You stood up, walking over to a display shelf on the other side of the living room.

“You have a pair? Why? Sirens don’t—”

“You collect magical experiences. I collect magical things.” You said nonchalantly, grabbing the pair of silver frames from where they sat between a phoenix feather (a gift) and a small wristwatch that would tell the correct time until it was put on, then it would be set on the time and date most significant to the wearer in that moment until it was removed. Walking back over to him, you held them out to him insistently, “Here, try them.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Renjun gingerly took them, sliding the arms over his ears and the frames onto the bridge of his nose. The pair you had was a little older, admittedly. You’d picked them up at a novelty shop, so they had some retro charm to them. An older style of frame, thicker lenses. But you thought it added a quaintness to their look. Especially on Renjun, he just looked downright adorable in them.

You sat back down to watch with your head in your hand as his brown eyes blinked from behind the thick lenses, and he looked around your living room like a newborn woodland animal. His face had already relaxed, and he turned his focus down to his laptop screen next, messing with the brightness up, then down. After that, he took out his phone, doing the same with that device.

“Well?” You prompted him, though you truly would’ve been content with watching him look around as if he’d been born colorblind and it were his first time seeing in color. Which, you had an enchanted pair for that too, but he wasn’t colorblind to your knowledge.

The human looked at you, a giddy smile stretching across his face. “They’re perfect! Thanks, Y/N!”

His hand reached up to take them off, but you stopped him.

“Keep them—”

“No, these had to be so expensive!” He protested immediately.

“Just for a week or so,” you finished your sentence pointedly. He was cute, but not that cute. “Make sure you really like them before you buy, okay? If you end up hating them, give them back. If you like them and buy your own pair, you can give them back whenever yours arrive in the mail.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not like I’m using them. Superior siren eyesight.” You tapped next to one of your eyes for emphasis.

“Thanks for not rubbing it in or anything.”

Scrambling to dial Renjun’s number, you put your phone on speaker as you fervently flicked through all of your Dr. Magic notes. You’d been laying in bed binging some mindless baking competition to numb your brain from all the studying you’d been doing when an email notification had popped up alerting you to a new Dr. Magic post.

“Y/N?” Renjun answered the phone, sounding utterly confused. “What’s—”

“New Dr. Magic post. I ran the IP and they’re in our city!” You blurted out.

“Okay… Well we already knew that, right?”

“Yeah, but this is an IP in our city that they posted from at midnight on a Saturday. Not any of the school computers.” You hit CTRL + F, typing in the string of numbers to quickly cross reference it with your extensive list. “This could be their IP. Like, their actual one, from a personal computer.”

“Oh, yeah. Could be.”

“Can you give me a little more enthusiasm here, Junnie? Did I wake you up or something? It’s only—” You stopped like you’d just walked face-first into a brick wall, eyes locked on the search result.

“Yeah, only quarter after midnight,” he scoffed.

You clicked the next arrow on the search bar, but that was the only match. 1/1 results.

“Y/N?” Renjun called for your attention. “You there?”

You hung up.

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you pressed the doorbell over and over insistently. You could hear the complaining tone of the occupant before his words were even audible.

“Christ, I have neighbors, you know?” Renjun swung open the door with a scowl. The human was in a big, slouching hoodie and pajama pants. His hair was stuck up in a couple different directions, making you think he might’ve just woken up. Except behind him, you could see that his kitchen light was on, and a couple books and his laptop were open on his kitchen table. Late night studying. And the fact that you’d just talked to him on the phone fifteen minutes ago.

“Can I come in?” You requested, fidgeting with the sleeve of your cardigan.

His face immediately softened. “Yeah, of course.”

“Sorry to just show up like this,” you said as you took off your shoes by the front door before following him further into his apartment.

“It’s okay.” He stopped you two in the kitchen, picking up a colorful, patterned cardboard box. “Uh, I was just about to make a midnight snack. Pizza bites, you want some?”

“I… don’t think I’ve ever had them.”

“Perfect, you can try one now then.”

“Mm,” you made a non-committal noise, leaning against his kitchen counter to watch him pour out the frozen food onto a baking sheet.

The oven beeped, and he put the tray in before pressing a couple more buttons.

“So, I was thinking about the Dr. Magic stuff. Not the IP stuff but like… What even is your plan for when you do find Dr. Magic?” Renjun asked as he put the remaining pizza bites in his freezer.

“What do you mean?”

He leaned against the countertop across from you, though in the narrow space of his kitchen, you were practically knee-to-knee. “Like, say we finally find out who they are, we run up to them in the library or on campus or something. Then what? What are you going to do? What are you going to say? You’ve done all this, and I know why you had to. I get it. But, do you know what you’re going to say to them?”

“Probably something along the lines of…” You trailed off, giving an exasperated sigh. Dropping your chin to your chest, you groaned, “Gods, I don’t know.”

“Hey, that’s why you got me. So you can bounce ideas off someone, do a dry run.”

“I thought the words would just come to me, and now that I’m trying, I can’t—”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let’s think about why you did this. I know it’s really hard to put into words. I mean, I know why you did. I get it. It’s that need to know. Not because you can, but because you have to, right? It’s curiosity in its rawest form. So obviously it’s not going to be some schmaltzy ‘haha I caught you’ spiel or anything.”

Looking up from the kitchen tile to Renjun’s eager features, you shook your head in disbelief. “You’re still helping me… when I know it’s you, Junnie.”

He tilted his head to the side, a comical noise of confusion coming from his mouth, “Uh?”

“I know it’s you, and you know that I know that it’s you.”

“You already ruled me out, because I’m an arrogant—”

“Junnie, you made a post on the forums from your laptop. No VPN. When you knew I was still tracking Dr. Magic’s IP on every post they made, and that I had your IP. That’s not a whoopsie that you make unless you want to be caught.”

The human crossed his arms over his chest, but otherwise seemed entirely calm about being caught. “And you didn’t come in here guns blazing now that you’d caught me, either. Why?”

“I didn’t know how to say it. I mean, you’re right, I only did all this because I needed to know.”

“And now you know.”

“Why now? Why just give up now?” You asked with a shake of your head. “You started posting as Dr. Magic back in August, and I came to you in January. You knew everything I was doing; you could have cruised through the rest of the semester and I’d have never caught you.”

“You wanted to find out who it was by midterms. One less thing on your plate.”

“And now I know…”

“So how does it feel? Finally catching Dr. Magic?”

You wrinkled your nose and sighed, “Bit disappointing. I was right on my first guess.”

“And you immediately dismissed me out of hand for being an arrogant, neurotic overachiever on your first guess,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I didn’t really know you then. If I’d known you then like I know you now, I would’ve known as soon as I saw the first post.”

Renjun batted his eyes teasingly. “Aww, Y/N…”

“Doctor underscore magic two, three, zero, three? Twenty-three, oh-three? That’s your birthday, Junnie,” you deadpanned.

“Right.”

Pushing off the counter to stand up straight again, you said, “Anyway, you did help me find Dr. Magic. So, my turn.”

“Oh, no, you seriously don’t have to do that. I rigged the deal—”

“Yeah, about that.” You took a step forward. “How did you think that was going to end up for you, anyway? Were you going to sell somebody else out as Dr. Magic and hope I wasn’t going to talk to them? Spit in your mouth first and ask questions later?”

“I was thinking on my feet.”

“Maybe think laying down next time, Junnie.”

“Ouch.”

“Anyway, come on, you’ll want to sit down for this.” You grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the living room.

“You don’t need to feel like you have to do this,” he reassured you.

Stopping the two of you in front of the couch, you turned to face him with a smirk. “Believe me when I say that it is going to be a treat unto itself for me to see you under the effects of siren venom. M’kay?”

Renjun’s surprise was evident on his face. “Oh.”

You stepped closer to him, delicately placing a hand on his chest. “Now unless you want me to literally spit in your mouth, I’m going to have to kiss you, to administer the venom.”

His eyes flicked between the hand you had on his chest and your face as he replied. “I’m okay with that—the kissing—if you are.”

“Renjun, I’ve been ready to eat you alive since you said the words ‘I want to experience siren venom for science’ to me.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. So why don’t you sit?” You guided him with the hand against his chest to sit back against his couch. Swinging one leg over his hips, then the other, you lowered yourself onto his lap. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, tentatively settling his hands on your thighs. “Is this okay?”

“More than.” You smiled, looping your arms around his neck. “Now, a couple things, before we get started.”

“We haven’t started?”

“You’ll know it when we do.”

“Right.”

“I know you think you know what siren venom is like, but whatever scientific articles you’ve read, or documentaries you’ve watched, or slides you’ve studied under microscopes in lab, cannot actually prepare you for what it’s like. Which, I imagine is why you want to experience it for yourself.” You smirked down at him as you watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down with a gulp. “So before I actually dose you up with it, I need you to tell me what you’re actually okay with doing and what you’re not. Because once you get my venom in you, you’re going to want to let me do anything and everything to you, up to and including kill you, remember?”

“Well that’s off the table.”

“Good to know,” you snorted, running a fingernail down the nape of his neck. You felt a shudder go through him. “Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” He seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open. You halted your motions to let him think, and watched in amusement as he blinked his mind clear.

Once enough time had passed, you prompted him, “So?”

“I think just kissing,” Renjun answered. “Like, making out, or whatever. If you want…”

You snickered. “What part of ‘eat you alive’ was I unclear about?”

“The ‘eat’ part, actually. How literal is that?”

“Guess you’ll find out,” you teased. Then, you focused again as you sat back a little. “Okay, making out. Making out means different things to different people. So… we know kissing’s on the table. Tongue?”

“Yeah.”

“Teeth?”

“Where?”

“Waist up. You got somewhere you don’t want them?”

He took a moment to think about this. Then shook his head. “No. You can use them. Anywhere.”

“Same goes for you. Hickies?”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Both. You first.”

“Both are okay. You?”

You were already zeroing in on his neck and a small part of his collarbone peeking out from under his hoodie. “Same. Touching over clothes?”

“Okay, as long as you don’t think it’ll be too much with the venom…”

“Oh, Junnie, everything is going to be too much.” You grinned down at him.

His breathing had picked up pace as the two of you were talking. “You? The touching?”

“Good. Great. Touching under clothes?”

Renjun squirmed underneath you, but maintained your eye contact. “Just under my shirt.”

“Smart boy,” you said approvingly. “Me too.”

“Is that it?” He asked quietly, eyes now flicking down to your lips.

“I think so…” You looked around the room to buy a couple extra seconds of thinking time. When you hadn’t come up with anything else, you looked down at the human below you once more. “Ready, Renjun?”

“Yes.”

You took one final look over him like this, how much he already wanted you before he’d even gotten any of your venom in him, and dragged the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip instinctually. His heartrate jumped, and you wondered if it was fear—if the motion had reminded him perhaps of a hungry predator—or need. Or maybe a bit of both.

But you couldn’t tease him nor yourself any longer, swooping down to connect your mouths. You started off with just a couple light, closed-mouth kisses, to ease him into it. You heard him inhale quickly through his nose, his grip on your thighs tightening minutely. Swiping your tongue across the seal of his lips, you were delighted when he immediately parted his mouth in response, his tongue seeking yours out. You hummed contentedly into his mouth as you started stroking a fingernail down the back of his neck again. At the same time, your venom was beginning to mix in with your saliva, being passed onto Renjun.

Once his jaw started going slack in the kiss, and his hands slowly slid off your legs entirely to rest lamely at his side, you deemed him plenty dosed up. Consciously, you blocked off your venom glands once more. When one particularly drawn-out scratch down the back of his neck finally elicited a noise from him, an involuntary whine, you felt something in you snap. You needed more of that.

“So this is what siren venom feels like…” He mumbled breathily, letting his head loll back against the couch cushion as you kissed a path down his jawline and neck. When you felt his breath hitch in his throat over one particular spot, you decided to take your time there, sucking and nipping a mark into his skin.

When humans were… locked in a lover’s embrace, they let off a certain perfume distinguishable only to sirens—which was what made them the favored prey of sirens for so long. A human under the influence of siren venom? Delectable. And every human’s was unique too, so Renjun under the influence of your venom? Absolutely addictive.

With each kiss you stole from his lips, every nip you left on his neck that you then soothed over with your tongue, you got another taste of it. A sweetness that came with a bite, like ginger candy.

Renjun was still talking, though, his vocal cords vibrating under your lips. “My-My heart’s beating so fast, and I’m so warm—that’s so the ocean water doesn’t feel cold, of course—”

“Would you shut up?” You sat back up, grabbing him by the hair.

“Why?”

“I’m trying to kiss you again, idiot.”

“Oh. Right.” He closed his mouth, looking up at you with glassy eyes, waiting. Gods, he was so pretty like this.

You crashed your lips back on his, a mess of teeth and lips and tongue as he tried to keep up with you. But you knew that your venom was in full effect now, every single one of his nerve endings was approximately three and half times more sensitive. So you were sure it was all a little overwhelming. But he was definitely trying his best, kissing sloppily into your mouth with hungry, desperate whines.

Pulling him back off with your grip in his hair, you traced a thumb over his kiss-swollen bottom lip, cooing over how fucked-out he looked like this. “Oh, baby. Oh, poor Junnie. What’s wrong? Can’t even kiss me properly because it feels too good? Baby’s overwhelmed with just a little bit of kissing?”

He opened his mouth wider, darting the tip of his tongue out to brush against the pad of your thumb. You pushed the finger in his mouth, groaning as he immediately closed his lips around it. “Gods, you’re perfect, Junnie.”

Taking your thumb back out of his mouth just to grab his chin with the same wet digit, you attacked his lips with yours again. Ginger candy. His hands that had been lamely resting at his sides the entire time now fumbled at something in the area where your hips met.

“What? What are you trying to do, baby?” You asked, leaning back to look down. He was grabbing at the hem of his hoodie, unsuccessfully yanking it up towards his head as part of it was stuck under one of your thighs.

“‘m too hot. Please…” He panted, dropping it as he looked up at you pleadingly.

You nodded slowly in understanding, knowing that one of the effects of the siren venom was an increase in body temperature, not to mention what you two were just doing. The collar of another shirt was visible underneath the sweatshirt. “Okay, Junnie, we can take your hoodie off. But only the hoodie. Your other clothes are staying on, understood?”

He nodded quickly, hips bucking up against you. Sweat was beading up on his forehead, his hair getting stuck to the damp skin. You shifted back on his lap so that none of the sweatshirt was under you anymore, grabbing the hem and reaching behind him to yank up from underneath him as well.

“Sit forward for me, baby?” You requested in his ear sweetly.

Renjun obliged as best he could, leaning forward to get his back and shoulders off the couch. You pulled the hoodie up over his head, tossing it off to the side, leaving him in a black t-shirt that certainly couldn’t be helping much either. But having that heavy layer off seemed to provide some relief for him, as he let out a sigh, falling back against the furniture again.

You giggled as you settled back into the crux of his lap again, lacing your fingers together behind his neck. “Is that better now, Junnie?”

He shook his head, and you arched an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh? What’s wrong, then?”

Renjun tugged gently at your cardigan where it had shrugged down to show one of your shoulders. “Please?”

Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you thought this over. You had a tank top on under the cardigan, and both of you were still wearing everything else. Not to mention that you were starting to get a bit warm too. Sirens ran naturally cooler than humans, so you were sure that to him, you felt practically refreshing right now, but you honestly were a bit hot for a siren’s tastes.

Giving a contemplative hum first, you finally relented, “Alright, Junnie. But just my sweater. Everything else stays on, because we didn’t talk about that before the venom, do you understand?”

He rushed to strip you of the knit cardigan, his mouth following his hands’ path down your skin. First on your shoulder, then down your arm. You let the garment drop on the floor behind you as he kissed back up along your shoulder, then over the fabric of your tank top until he got to your collarbone, and finally the hollow of your throat. Fondly stroking the back of his head, the pleased purr that had started in your chest turned into a surprised moan when he licked a long stripe up your throat.

Holding his face in your hands so that your noses brushed, and your lips barely ghosted over each other, you let your breaths mingle in the meager space afforded. Renjun ended your little anticipation game quickly, kissing you tongue-first, and you kissed him back just as eagerly, sucking on his tongue with lewd, wet noises. He moaned into your mouth, his hands grabbing at your waist for purchase first, then slipping and curling into the material of your shirt, bunching it in his fists.

Slowing the pace of your kisses, you eventually sat back, appraising the state he was in. You affectionately ran a hand through his hair as you took in his blown pupils, kiss-swollen lips, and pink cheeks. “Junnie? How are you feeling? Need a break?”

You hadn’t given him another dose of venom since the initial one, which wasn’t very large to begin with. But this was his first time experiencing it, so you wanted to check in. He should be just past the peak of it by now, starting to come down but for all intents and purposes still very much intoxicated. Siren venom wasn’t meant to last very long, after all, it took an adult human less than a minute to drown.

“Need you…” He insisted, arching up towards you.

Indulging him in one, two more feverish kisses, you pulled away once again. “I know, baby. And you’ve been doing so good for me. So I need you to tell me if you need a break. Okay?”

“’kay.” He agreed before you sealed your mouth over his again.

Kissing down from his mouth to just under his jaw, at the same time you trailed a finger down the center of his front until it got to the hem of his t-shirt.

He nodded fervently before you could say or do anything more. “Please… please…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” you quieted him down gently. “Doing so good for me, Junnie. The best.”

You slipped your hands under his shirt, just to stroke his waist. His muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out a sound of satisfaction. He grabbed at your thighs again, but you couldn’t tell if it was an attempt at reciprocity or to have something sturdier to ground himself to than your flimsy tank top. The corner of your lips quirked up as you pressed a couple more kisses down his neck to hover your lips over his pulse point, content to start a new mark there as your hands continued to explore under his shirt. It was when you gently raked your nails down over his pecs that you got the loudest moan out of him yet, and you groaned in response.

“Gods, you’re perfect,” you nuzzled your nose into Renjun’s neck, then pressed a couple relatively chaste pecks to his cheek. “Just perfect…”

Taking your hands back out from his shirt, you silenced his whine at the loss of contact by slotting your lips together once more. You cupped his face with one hand, using the other to take one of his hands off your leg and lace them together, palm to palm. This seemed to make him content once more, especially when you brought your connected hands up to the back of the couch, pinning his behind his head. He squirmed under you, letting out a familiar noise of pleasure into your mouth and squeezing your hand tightly.

You knew the venom was well and truly starting to wear off when Renjun began keeping pace with your slow, lazy kisses, his mouth not as sloppy but no less delightful as it moved in tandem with yours. The thumb of the remaining hand on your thigh started to stroke over your skin, and the hand that you were holding gave yours a gentle squeeze. You gave him one, two last lingering kisses, drinking in the dwindling taste of ginger candy while you could, Renjun matching you beat for beat.

Unlacing your fingers and dropping your hand from his face, you drew back from him. Before you could say anything, though, Renjun grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you in for one more kiss, sinking his teeth into your already tender, over-kissed bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth, which gave him the perfect opportunity to intertwine his tongue with yours again on his apparent mission to try to kiss the breath from you. A nigh impossible task for a human to do to a siren, but it definitely felt like he was succeeding. He was crushing his lips against yours so hard you were worried about him drawing blood—not because you would mind the pain, but for fear of his safety if he got a direct hit of your blood in his mouth.

In the back of your mind, you were desperately trying to remember if you had maybe accidentally opened your venom glands a second time later on, but just drew a blank. That wasn’t something you did unaware, it wasn’t automatic, it had to be done on purpose. Then, for a brief moment, you were worried about secondary wave syndrome—some humans break down siren venom in two phases instead of one, and the second one almost always kills them if they’re not brought to a human medical doctor for treatment—and you started running through the symptoms as well as the nearest human emergency rooms in your mind. Burst capillaries in the eyes, refusal of food and water, the hospital three blocks over should have an ER, right? But the kiss didn’t feel like when he’d been intoxicated on your venom before, this one felt deliberate, in control. He was in control. You let out a small moan at the thought, and Renjun’s lone hand on your thigh tightened in response.

Once he finally let you go, you both sat there in silence for a good few seconds, you still on his lap. You stared extra hard at the whites of his eyes. They looked normal. He seemed… normal.

It was rare for either of you to be speechless, much less the both of you.

“Well…” you broke the silence. “That was siren venom. You should drink some water. Stay right here, I’ll get it.”

You climbed off of him, heading into his kitchen. Looking at the oven, you were wondering how the timer hadn’t gone off in that entire time when you saw that it wasn’t on. The words ‘TIMER SET?’ were flashing on the screen at you, and the preheat hadn’t been started either. The pizza rolls had just been slowly defrosting on a pan in the cold oven. You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching into his fridge for his Brita filter then securing a couple cups from the cabinets.

Walking back into the living room, you handed the human his cup of water and remained standing as you took a sip of yours.

“You didn’t start the oven, for your pizza rolls,” you informed him quietly.

“Wh— oh, shit,” Renjun groaned, tipping his head back. “I guess I don’t get to give you your first pizza roll tonight.”

“That’s okay.” You dropped onto the couch next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

“So… that was siren venom,” he breathed out, then took a long gulp of his water. Definitely not second wave syndrome.

“That was siren venom,” you confirmed with a laugh, fondly brushing a piece of sweaty hair off his forehead.

“You were right… I was not prepared,” he admitted with a laugh, taking another drink.

“So do you think you would’ve let me kill you?”

“Yeah. I would’ve given you my credit card info, bank password, spilled all of my friends’ worst secrets, let you kill me, killed someone else if you asked me. God, that was…” He said with wide eyes, shaking his head. But there was a familiar glint in his eye as a smile cracked across his face, “Incredible.”

“Glad you think so,” you giggled, patting his chest. “Now don’t become a venom junkie, okay? I couldn’t live with myself if you did and it was my fault.”

“I won’t. Not really what I meant anyway.”

You grinned slyly at what he seemed to be implying, that it might not have just been the siren venom, but that it was you and your venom that made it so incredible. Like how every human had a slightly different essence, every siren had a unique chemical signature in their venom. It’s why using it non-consensually nowadays would be extremely stupid (as well as just an immoral thing to do and also a crime)—it can be matched to the siren in a lab like DNA. In addition, anecdotally, every siren’s venom was said to produce a slightly different high, but no mass studies had backed that up. You were inclined to believe the stories, though.

Renjun was still a bit hazy, though, still riding the high of the venom, so you decided to tuck a conversation like that away for another time.

“So why did you pick Magical Creatures Studies? Other than you’re insane?” You redirected the topic to a more neutral one.

Renjun didn’t seem put off at all about this jump. “When I was a kid, my family traveled around a bunch, for my dad’s job. I got to meet a lot of different kinds of beings, some of them became my best friends, and I never wanted to stop learning about it all.”

“What does your dad do?”

“Government job,” he answered, suddenly interested in picking at his nails.

You furrowed your brow thoughtfully. “Wait a minute… Huang Renjun. As in, your father is Ambassador Huang? That we’ve had to write papers on in class?”

Ambassador Huang was the first human ambassador sent on diplomacy trips to outside nations of magical creatures post-integration. His trips had largely been considered a monumental success, and credited as a big driver behind the huge uptick of immigration that your city has been seeing from outlying areas in the past couple decades. You’d hardly gotten through a single contemporary MCS class without directly learning about him or at least hearing his name. And you’d apparently been going to school with his son for four years and just pumped said son full of your venom and made out with him while he was high on your venom.

“Yeah…”

“Dude! What the hell? You didn’t think to mention that at some point?” You asked incredulously.

“And sound like some uppity nepo kid bragging about my dad? No thanks,” Renjun snorted.

“Yeah, maybe not like day one but like… I don’t know, before I used my venom on you!” You nudged his arm teasingly.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just venom-ed Ambassador Huang’s son!”

“Oh my God, could you not call me that?” He snapped at you. “This is why I don’t tell people! Because now I don’t have a name anymore, I’m just Ambassador Huang’s son.”

You immediately realized your mistake, your stomach dropping as you heard the hurt in his words. “Renjun, I’m—”

“Just go.” He demanded, standing up from the couch and putting distance between you two again. “We both got what we wanted, right? You found out who Dr. Magic was, and I experienced siren venom. That’s all this was, so you can go. You don’t owe me anything else.”

You clenched your jaw, setting your cup on the end table beside the couch. Picking up your cardigan from the floor with as much dignity as you could, you pulled it back on. Neither of you said another word as he watched you stalk over to the front door, shove your shoes back on, throw the door open, and slam it closed behind you.

Drumming your fingertips along your keyboard, you squinted at the flashcards on your screen. You were in a sour mood, which had persisted ever since you’d left Renjun’s last night feeling used.

Ten was next to you at your picnic table outside the student union, finishing up a pencil portrait sketch of one of his other friends—one of the CompSci majors you’d paid to write your browser extension, actually. Dejun, a dragon, whose slit pupils, many bejeweled earrings, and a singular fang poking out from under his top lip featured prominently in the portrait. The sketch was part of Ten’s midterm portfolio check-in for one of his classes. Midterms were literally this week. Like, right now. You forced your sharp teeth further into the wooden pencil in your mouth.

“You’re going to ruin your cuspids like that, Y/N,” Ten chastised you calmly, rubbing at a line with the pad of his ring finger to smudge it before flipping his own non-mangled pencil around and continuing to sketch with the graphite.

“I’ll grow another set,” you grumbled, but took the writing utensil out of your mouth nevertheless.

“And have no teeth in the meantime. Real sexy siren stuff. Sure to lure all the hotties to their deaths looking like GamGam missing her dentures.”

“Shut up!” You shoved his head away, earning a loud peal of laughter from your friend. “As if you’ve been pulling anybody yourself. You’re literally a siren art major covered in tattoos that he designed himself, more piercings than a dragon, including nipple rings, and you haven’t been on a date in… what, almost a year?”

“So we’re both disappointments to the good siren name, huh?” He held up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Just a couple of poor, celibate sirens doomed to be disgraces to their species forever…”

“Can you not yell that to the entire courtyard, dude?”

“What? Not announce very loudly that you haven’t been with anybody in exactly four—”

You lunged to cover his mouth before he could publicize precisely how long it’s been since you’d hooked up with someone. Ten immediately broke down into laughs behind your hand that was covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking even as you smacked him on the back of the head with your other hand.

“Gods, what is wrong with you?” You hissed at him. “You’re a menace to society. And me.”

When you’d finally let go of his face, he said through a couple more chuckles, “Hey, you could easily do it back to me.”

“Why would I want to do that? And the fact that you’re suggesting it makes me think that you want me to do that, which makes me want to do it even less. You freak.”

Before your podmate could respond, you caught sight of a figure approaching your table head-on. Setting your jaw, your body immediately tensed. There was no mistake, Huang Renjun was walking straight towards you. Ten seemed to have noticed the shift in your body language and mood, as he didn’t say anything further, quietly going back to his sketchbook as you watched Renjun get nearer and nearer.

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, stopping not quite at the end of the table beside you, but next to the end of the bench across from you.

“What do you want from me now, Renjun?” You replied bitterly, pretending to return your hands to your keyboard as if you were going to refocus on your studies.

“Uhm, to talk, I guess?”

Ten interjected, “Do you guys need a second? I can go—”

You held him in place with a hand around his wrist, your voice curt, “No, Ten. Stay. This will be short.”

Your friend lowered himself back down into his seat.

You then set your hard gaze on Renjun. The marks you had left on his neck were still visible above the collar of his t-shirt. Moving your eyes from that to his face, you cocked your head to the side. “What’s in it for me? You established that our relationship is purely transactional, remember? We apparently just use each other. You scratch my back, I spit in your mouth, quid pro quo.”

“Okay, I’m going now,” Ten declared, wrenching his arm from your grasp to grab his sketchbook, pencils, and backpack before taking off.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I don’t see you like that at all, I just... I got defensive and snapped. It’s not an excuse, but still, I want you to know that I don’t mean anything I said. I’m sorry.” Renjun shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but you could see the genuine remorse on his features.

You breathed in, then out.

“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, letting your voice relax back to the natural softness that it held around Renjun. “You’re your own person, aside from just ‘Ambassador Huang’s son.’ I’m sorry for treating you like anything other than Renjun.”

“It’s not that I’m not super proud to be his son or anything, I think he’s really awesome. He was my hero growing up; still is. I mean, I’m going into the same field as him. Kind of. You know? It’s just because we’re going to be doing the same kind of thing, I want to be able to be looked at for what I do. Good or bad.”

“Bad? You plan on using your degree for evil, Renjun?” You teased, scooting over on the bench seat to take Ten’s previous spot and freeing up a place for Renjun to scoot in beside you.

“I could,” he played along, gladly taking the seat offered.

The two of you made eye contact, then burst into laughter at the same time.

“What?” He questioned in mock offense. “I think I’d make a great evil dictator, personally. You don’t think so?”

“Not at all, you’d be great at it.”

“Thank you. My friends don’t take my threats so seriously.”

“Which will ultimately be their downfall.”

Renjun looked back out at the campus in front of you two, his voice turning serious again, “But, seriously, I mean, I don’t want people having all these lofty expectations for me and then be disappointed when I don’t change the whole world, nor do I want them making things easy for me because they know my dad.”

“That’s fair. Unattainable, but fair to wish for,” you nodded in understanding.

“Ugh...” He slumped forward, dropping his head into his arms atop the table.

“Look, Renjun…” You rested one hand on his arm as the other rubbed up and down his back supportively. “You can’t change who your dad is, and you said it yourself, it’s not like you’re ashamed of him either. So don’t brag, and don’t be a dick when somebody brings him up either. Just do your best to show people who Huang Renjun is. And if they still don’t get it, that’s their loss. Because I already know him, and I think he’s pretty cool.”

Renjun sat back up to look you in the face with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “You’re such a cheeseball. Aren’t sirens supposed to be alluring and enchanting?”

“Shut up! I will drown you! See how alluring I am when you’re under a siren call,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m kidding.” He grinned at you, nudging your shoulder with his. “That really did make me feel better, thank you, Y/N.”

You smiled back. “You’re welcome, Renjun.”

The two of you kept smiling at each other for a moment before he broke the eye contact, looking down at his hands then shifting his gaze back to the courtyard.

“Uhm, while we’re airing stuff out about last night...” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yeah, Junnie?” You tilted your head to the side, watching as his cheeks started flushing.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you. I kind of popped off on you right after... everything. But thank you, for taking care of me before, during, and after. It didn’t even occur to me to talk about what we could and couldn’t do beforehand. Thank you for that, and for getting me the water. And... all of it in between...” His ears were bright red too at this point, but he managed to look you in the eye as he gave you his genuine gratitude.

You nodded in understanding. “You’re welcome. I’m glad that you felt cared for during all of it. In addition to, you know, everything else you felt.”

“Mm, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Studying his face curiously, you said, “You look like you want to ask me something else.”

“Well, I feel like you still weren’t very clear on the ‘eat me alive’ thing.”

You rolled your eyes. “Gods, Junnie, I’m not going to actually eat you—”

“I mean...” Renjun took a deep breath. “I kind of always feel like I’ve got a little bit of siren venom in me when I’m around you, Y/N. My heart races, and my skin is warm, and everything is just better when I’m with you. I want to see you when you’re not around, and when things are hard for you, I want to make everything better. I like you, and between the Dr. Magic deal, and our stupid academic rivalry, and what we did last night, I don’t know what I am to you, but that’s how I feel.”

If someone had told freshman you that Huang Renjun would ever say words like that to you, you’d have laughed in their face to the point of tears— or slapped them. And yet, in that moment, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. It was the most natural, beautiful, delightful, perfect thing that could’ve happened. Just like you leaning over to give him a modest, near-demure kiss on the cheek, absolutely beaming at him as you pulled back.

“I like you too, Renjun,” you admitted.

His eyes went wide before a broad, tender smile spread across his features and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He let out a drawn-out sigh of relief, “Ohh, that’s one weight off my chest for this week.”

You laughed in agreement. “Me too. Actually makes everything feel lighter.”

“Yeah, it does,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “So how much do I owe you?”

“What?”

“You said you were going to invoice Dr. Magic. For the browser extension, and the color copies, and whatever else. How much do I owe you?”

You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think before a smirk pulled across your lips. “Mm, should be exactly the price of one nice dinner and a movie.”

“Dinner and a movie? Just how many copies were you making?” He asked with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“A nice dinner,” you reiterated. “I paid those CompSci majors fairly for their time.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Friday night after your last midterm, you were knocking on Huang Renjun’s door. The two of you had seen each other this week for your Linguistics in MCS class, but had been utterly locked into academic mode and hadn’t met up aside from that. So, per his invite, you were here in your “midterms best”— i.e., the pajamas you had been wearing at your own apartment since submitting your last mid-semester draft earlier today. You’d been told this wasn’t going to be a fancy affair.

Judging by the pajamas that Renjun had also answered the door wearing—giving you vivid déjà vu to the last time you were here—you were dressed appropriately for the occasion. He led you in by the hand, informing you there was something he wanted to show you in the kitchen.

You came to a stop in front of a plate piled high with small, pillow-shaped pieces of dough, some with bursts of red sauce leaking out of them. You couldn’t help but let out a sputtering laugh. “Pizza rolls? Did midterms scramble the egg on your face so bad that you missed the part where I said nice dinner?”

You might not have ever eaten pizza rolls, but you knew what section of the grocery store they came from.

“I can’t even tell what that was supposed to be… You’re so beautiful…” He was staring at you with a look of pure adoration, and surprised you by giving you a fleeting peck on the cheek, gone as soon as you’d realized what he was doing. Your hand instinctually came up to brush at your skin, almost in disbelief, as he went back to explaining his plans for tonight. “Anyway, I didn’t get to give you your first pizza roll the other night, and I figured that the last thing you actually wanted right after midterms week was to go out to some hoity toity place and be out at the movie theater really late, right? So, I’ve got pizza rolls, peanut butter cookies, your seaweed tea, and like way more snacks and candy and stuff. So we can chill and watch whatever movies you want tonight, unwind from midterms. And then next weekend, we’ll do your nice dinner and go to the movie theater. Think of it as an IOU.”

A fond smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you nodded your approval. “Mmm… you’re right. This is great, Junnie. Thank you.”

Set up on Renjun’s couch with the assortment of snacks—pizza rolls included—and your first movie chosen, you settled in next to him, knee to knee, under the same blanket as the two of you ate. You decided that pizza rolls weren’t that bad (you still liked peanut butter sandwich cookies better), convinced Renjun to try some of your ocean flakes again—a favorite snack of sirens, which he’d already tasted on one occasion at a Dr. Magic hunting session and hated—to similar results, and finished off a bottle of seaweed-infused tea by the time the first movie was about a third of the way done. At this point, you were pretty satiated food-wise, and set your empty drink bottle on the coffee table to sit back on the couch.

Linking your arm with Renjun’s, you rested your head on his shoulder as he was still finishing up his plate of pizza rolls. “That was good, Renjun. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I call dibs on little spoon first, by the way.”

“Damn.”

Once he was done eating as well, you laid down to eagerly take your promised place as little spoon. Renjun stayed partially propped up against the arm of the couch so he could see the TV as you were nestled back against his chest, one of his arms slung over your waist. Your fingers played with his under the blanket absentmindedly as you got used to your new place, with him, in his arms.

“Renjun?” You said into the quiet. The only noises were coming from the TV. The movie was nearly done, just a couple little resolving scenes after the climax left. You’d seen it plenty of times before—both of you had, it was a favorite that you’d discovered you two shared earlier in the semester—which was why you’d picked it, an easy watch that you both liked. But nothing that required your full attention, so you could talk or miss scenes if you wanted.

“Yeah?” He responded just as softly.

“This is really nice. Hanging out, just us. No school, no Dr. Magic.”

“I know. Almost doesn’t feel real.”

“What? That we’re hanging out without trying to kill each other?”

He let out a couple laughs, catching your hand that had been playing with his under the blanket and lacing your fingers together. “I think there’s definitely some people that would be shocked to see us right now. But I meant more-so that we don’t have any schoolwork to do right now, and that the whole Dr. Magic thing is finally over. Other than the dinner that I owe you.”

“Oh… I owe you… I-O-U…” you sounded the words and letters out slowly. “I get it now.”

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed dreamily, brushing your hair away from your face to press two kisses to your temple in quick succession.

You turned over to face him to properly protest, “Hey, I didn’t grow up around humans, you know that, right? I just came here to go to school! I moved here like, two weeks before our first day of freshman year—”

“I’m not making fun of you, Y/N!” He promised, sandwiching your hand between both of his and squeezing it tightly. “I respect how difficult it must have been for you to acclimate to the new culture and city when you moved, and so suddenly, on top of starting school. I just love y- love when you do that. Genuinely, I’m so charmed by it. Endeared. Bewitched. Whatever word you want to use. It’s something I never noticed until this semester, when we started doing the Dr. Magic stuff together. Despite knowing you for so long, in the department, in classes.”

“You know what I never knew about you before this semester, Junnie?”

“What?”

“That you were such a softie,” you snickered fondly. “I thought you were all textbooks and GPA and flashcards and whatever.”

The human ducked his head bashfully. “It’s something I’ve been working on this year.”

“Between this and Dr. Magic, I think you’ve been doing pretty well.”

“Thanks.”

“So, why did you do it, Junnie?” You asked curiously. “Not be a softie, I mean, but…”

“What? Be Dr. Magic?” He clarified, to which you nodded. “I didn’t mean to make a persona like that, really. I had to pick a screenname, and the guys had jokingly called me that a couple times when I helped them out with some problems. That’s all.”

“I know why you started the account. Knowledge. That’s also why you didn’t get the credit. You just needed to know. Though, the story behind the name is cute,” you pinched his cheek, and he tried to deter your hand with his shoulder half-heartedly. “I mean more like, why were you hiding your IP and using VPNs and stuff before you even knew that I was trying to track you down? In the fall.”

“I made the first couple posts from the school computers just because I like to do my work there, I wasn’t trying to cover anything up. Then I pictured what I’d do if I found someone posting like I was on the forums. And I would’ve tried to find out who they were. So I started covering my tracks a bit more intentionally after that. Didn’t want any groupies rolling up on me.” He pinched your side teasingly with the last sentence, and you slapped his hand away with an eye roll.

“Oh shut up!” You scoffed, ignoring his hands as he tried to pull you back towards him again.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m sorry,” he apologized through his chuckles. “If anything I’m your groupie, I swear. Your number one fan from the moment you showed me your conspiracy board.”

“Mm, fine.” You scooted closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you once more. “Glad we got that cleared up.”

Renjun shifted to lay on his back, and you easily followed the move to snuggle in mostly on top of him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and your hand on his waist, fingers innocently smoothing over a patch of skin above his hipbone where his shirt had ridden up. It sounded like the credits were on by now, but you didn’t really care about picking another movie as Renjun hummed along to the familiar song that played over the scrolling names. You’d sing along too, if you were alone at your own place. But now you didn’t dare even hum like the human with you for fear of what it could do to him. Renjun’s voice was plenty lovely enough though, even just this casual little bit humming. You’d see if you could get him to sing for you properly one of these days. If an opportunity came before graduation. Who knew what your days would even look like before then.

Gods, graduation. You felt like you could shrivel up and die just thinking about it. Not to mention that you hadn’t even told Renjun that you’d—

“Hey. What are you thinking about?” He suddenly asked, his disapproving tone clear.

You gulped. “How could you tell I was thinking about something?”

“For one, you’ve got your bad thinking face on.” He pinched your bottom lip. “You pout. It’s very dramatic. You look very concerned.”

“I have different thinking faces?”

“Yeah, you look different when you’re studying. I’ve seen you do plenty of that to know the difference. And you’ve got a third face when you’re contemplating. Usually you do that one when you’re looking at menus.”

“I didn’t know I was apparently an open book.” You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“It’s cute, Y/N. You’ve got a cute face, and you make cute facial expressions with it, don’t cover it up.” He gingerly grabbed your hands to encourage you to take them off. “Except I am worried about what’s making you make your bad thinking face right now. What’s wrong?”

With a sigh, you pushed up into a sitting position. Renjun followed your lead curiously, a thoughtful frown on his own features as he watched you pull your knees to your chest.

“Renjun, I need to tell you something.”

He regarded you with a skeptical eyebrow raised. “Okay… go for it.”

Nervously, you smoothed out some wrinkles in your pajama pants as you confessed, “Uhm, Dr. Kwon asked me to carry the banner at commencement. I said yes.”

“I knew that.”

“What?” You looked up at him in disbelief.

“Well, since it was midterms already, I figured that if they’d picked me, they would have asked me by now and since they hadn’t, then they must have picked you. I was just waiting for you to tell me so I could tell you… Congrats.” Renjun grinned brightly at you, reaching out to rest his hand on your arm.

“You’re not upset?” You asked trepidly.

“We’re not petty little freshmen anymore, Y/N. No, I’m not upset. I’m proud of you, you deserve it.”

“So did you.”

“Not any more than you did.” He shook his head firmly. “So would you just accept my congrats already?”

You gave a small, shaky smile. “Thank you…”

“There we go.”

“This is what I was so freaked about… when we went to get froyo.”

“You were afraid of me being mad at you for being picked to carry the banner?” Renjun asked incredulously.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” You defended yourself. “And now I have to do the commencement practices, on top of senior capstone and my extracurriculars…”

He wrinkled his nose. “Ew, commencement practices. So glad I didn’t get picked now, actually.”

“And that was so convincing, Junnie.”

“You remember what you said to me when we got froyo?”

Scrunching your face up, you struggled to think back to the exact conversation you had that day—you’d been really stressed. “Uh, ‘exactly two gummy sharks on mine please?’”

“Well, yeah, your hyper-specific froyo order—”

“Throwing stones at black kettles much?” You teased.

“Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes went wide.

“Is that not—? I really thought I got it that time.”

“Did you mean to say ‘throwing stones in glass houses’ and/or ‘the pot calling the kettle black?’”

“…Yes.”

He turned very serious as he went to tenderly cradle your face in his hands. “I’m going to kiss you in like two seconds after I finish what I was saying, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” you agreed weakly, wishing very much that he’d just do it now instead of making you wait. He then let your face go.

“When we were talking about wanting people to know that we’re smart,” Renjun clarified. “You said that we’re both like that, and you knew that you were like that. And then you asked me if I knew that I was like that. I had tried to swear up and down this entire time that I was doing all of this—the needing to be the best—for myself. But it wasn’t. I’m like that too. That’s kind of what Dr. Magic was, me taking a step back from needing everyone to know I was the smartest person in the room. A quasi-experiment, to see if I could do it.”

“I think that after graduation, maybe we both chill on being the smartest person in the room, and try to just spend a summer working on that magical bucket list of yours?” You suggested.

“Oh?” He perked up at this. “Really?”

“You ever seen a werewolf shift?”

“No…”

“That sounds like a ‘not yet’ to me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He confirmed with a conspiratorial grin that mirrored the one that you could feel across your own face. “You know how sirens can’t get dosed up on their own venom?”

“Yeah…” You nodded, wondering where he could be going with this.

“Well, I know a witch with a proprietary love potion blend that I think we might be able to modify to produce similar effects.”

“Fascinating.” You thought on this for a second, very quickly running through your knowledge of potion properties to imagine what it could be. “Two-factor blood potion?”

“Yes. But we’d put your venom in it instead of your blood so it wouldn’t kill me.”

“That could work…” You mused. “Speaking of, I should really give you a full dose one of these days.”

He breathed in sharply. “That wasn’t a full dose?”

“Nope.”

“Holy shit…”

“Have you ever watched a phoenix reincarnation?” You added another suggestion to your joint summer bucket list.

“Have you? Wouldn’t that literally blind us?” Renjun questioned, something akin to genuine concern on his face now.

You shrugged. “Allegedly. It’s never been recorded in a lab setting, so who really knows.”

“I think we’re going to get each other killed before we can get our PhDs,” he declared with a fond smile and shake of his head.

“Hey, the betting pools said we’d kill each other by junior year, so I think we’re doing well for ourselves.”

“Do you think we can collect on those bets when we graduate and we’re both still alive and have all of our limbs?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get there.”

“Oh my god, come here,” Renjun groaned deliriously, kneeling to grab your face with two hands and crash his lips to yours. You curled your fingers in the front of his shirt, pulling him down with you as you fell back against the arm of his couch, still connected.

Yeah, you’d drive off that burning bridge when you got there.

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[heartofwritiing]

What am I supposed to do, if theres no you?

paring: wilbur soot x fem!reader

authors note: I was listening to soon you’ll get better by taylor swift. I couldn’t get the imagery of this song out of my head and I needed to write some sort of vent. also inspired by a fic that @starsyoubreaklikesugardust wrote called whats it like on the other side of us that utterly destroyed me and I needed a happier version... This is super self-indulgent as hell but I hope you guys like it!

warnings: angst, mentions of an illness, hospitals, heavy topics, mentions of death, reader doesn’t have a specific illness, fluff, hurt comfort, me not knowing about medical terms or hospitals so excuse me lol, unedited!

The hospital bed feels warmer when Wilbur lies beside you, the only sound in the small room is the beeping of the machine monitoring your vitals.

On most days, everything is fine. However, when he's around, it's easy to forget the inevitable fate that awaits.

When he has to leave, he goes home to sleep in an empty bed and never does sleep. In those moments of solitude, he cries until he can't anymore. He tries to distract himself by painting the kitchen yellow, fixing up the garden, going to the studio to record, and hanging out with friends. But he feels guilty he’s not beside you.

The next time you see him he looks horrible. Like he got hit by a bus and you’re wondering if you should be the one in here or him. Wilbur Voice horse, circles under his eyes and red you know is from his tears. That’s when you pull him by the arm so he can curl up next to you so he can finally get some rest.

Stoking your fingers through his hair as he snores softly into your collarbone. You think about how Wilbur would ever function without you. How is he gonna take care of himself -when-if you are gone one day. That pit is building in your stomach along with the small lump in your throat. The burning of your eyes as you silently cry while you hold him close to your body.

Because that was what your life was full of, what ifs, whens, uncertainty, and dread. He didn’t deserve that. The arguments you used to get into when you first got sick. Begging him to leave you because you knew, in the long run, this wouldn’t work out. You could spend the rest of your life in and out of hospitals while he wasted away with you.

Wilbur swore repeatedly up and down that he would never leave you. No matter how much you tried to drive him away or how hard matters got.

Wilbur was constantly worried about your well-being, but he held onto hope that you would recover. This was especially true after the first time he brought you home.

You were happy to leave the uncomfortable hospital bed and small room reeking of antiseptic. You slow danced with him in the living room to Elton John playing from his phone speaker, listened to him write new songs, and slept in because you missed waking up in your shared bed. You felt like your old self again and he loved seeing you that way.

When things got worse again, the bright light in your eyes would soon fade, like water extinguishing a flame, as you had to leave your home and return to that sterile, white-washed room.

When you are back in that hospital bed, with the scratchy sheets and the fluorescent lights that hurt your eyes you’re back to being a shell of a human. The depression hits you harder and Wilbur does all he can to help. make you as comfterble as possible despite the weight of the situation.

You know he’s only trying to provide solstice. The small room fills with his soft voice as he reads your favorite stories. Telling you bad jokes he’s heard from Tommy that get you to at least crack a smile. He feels proud he was the one to grant you some form of happiness.

-

His hand holds your shaking, cold one as the IV pumps treatment into your veins. He leans over in his chair to be closer to you, lips against your knuckles. Your eyes meet in a longing stare that says 'I'm here, I'm not going anywhere.' You gently squeeze his hand.

“Wil?” You asked hoarsely.

“Yes, darling?” His voice is intimate, making you feel like there are people around even though it's just the two of you. The nickname always makes your tummy flutter with delight.

You want to capture the way he looks at you in a picture. He tentatively waits for your next words, his doe eyes filled with concern. You clear your throat and exhale softly.

“I was thinking... maybe we should find a house in the country,” you say. Wilbur remains silent. "Somewhere quiet, with big fields where we can see the sky, and watch the sunset on the porch."

You've mentioned how you'd love to live out in the country. A cottage large enough for you both to have separate areas. A streaming room for him, and a bedroom and den for you to store all your books and painting supplies.

A place where you can finally be free from confinement. Despite Wilbur's jokes about you being an old soul, you were in touch with life through knitting, painting, reading, and walks. That's what he wanted to give you again.

Your voice is quieter now, creating a moment just for you. The heaviness in your voice made your eyes well up. You could feel his thumb caressing your knuckles. Like a silent ‘take your time’. Your throat closes up as you keep talking. Your breath is shaking, primarily due to the cold temperature of the room and the medicine making you feel woozy. But you and Wilbur knew it was the emotional weight you tried to carry with your words.

Somewhere we can grow old together.

The sentence sits heavily in your mind. You'd like to say it to him. You wanted to share it with him so badly, but it felt painful to have cross your mind.

Wilbur already knows by the look in your eyes. He leans over you, lovingly presses a kiss to your forehead, and wipes away a single tear before it can roll down your cheek. Slowly he moves down, then presses another kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Whatever you want, my love.” he squeezes your hand back.

-

Wilbur spent weeks searching through countless home-selling websites for your dream house, but none were to his liking or within your budget. A month later, while sitting uncomfortably in a hospital chair with his long legs curled up to his chest, he scrolled through his phone and stumbled upon a house that seemed too good to be true.

He scheduled numerous appointments to see the house, ensuring everything was in order before making a final decision. Moving his belongings with the help of friends and bandmates was hectic.

He spent weeks preparing for your homecoming, buying new furniture, and arranging your books to your liking, making everything perfect only then he would finally surprise you.

He's there to take you to his car the day you leave the hospital. He takes care of you in the passenger seat, buckling you in and ensuring you're ready to leave before setting off.

As Wilbur drives past your shared apartment, soft indie tunes play through the car's speakers, and you lean back against the headrest, watching the scenery pass by. You realize you passed the turn to your house and Wilbur's hand takes yours.

Wilbur turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and says, "We're not going home just yet." A faint smile is on his lips as if he's hiding something from you. He then drives in a different direction, and you can't help but feel excited about what he has planned.

"Where are we going?" you ask. As you speak, he can hear your worry.

"If I told you that, it would ruin the surprise," he says.

He knows you're antsy in your seat but it'll be worth it. After driving through winding roads and trees, he pulls up to a house with an arched doorway and slanted roof, almost like the one you dreamed of growing up.

Wilbur turns off the ignition, rushes to your side, opens the car door, and with a grin offers his hand to help you out. Wilbur leads you to the front door, unlocks it with a small key, and picks you up to carry you over the threshold.

"Welcome home darling," he says.

You are led through the house, to the hallway to the cozy living room. taking everything in slowly.

The soft pillows on the sofa, your paintings on the walls, your books on the shelf, and Wilbur's record player and vinyl set up. His acoustic guitar set against the wall caused your eyes to well up.

"Wilbur," you began, but tears rolled down your face as the emotions overwhelmed you. Why was he going through all this trouble for a silly dream?

Wilbur frowned as he tried to place you on the recliner, but you clung to him, so he sat down with you in his lap. Speaking softly into your ear with tender words to calm you.

You drew away from him, noticing the worry in his gaze as you locked eyes with Wilbur, he searched your expression frantically, attempting to figure out the cause of your distressed state.

"Are you okay?" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "I know it's a lot to take all at once, but I wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry for being secretive."

You shake your head, in slight remorse for making him assume he upset you or pushed things too far.

"I'm just so happy." you beamed tearily.

Ease washed over him, and a sigh escapes his lips. Tears well in his eyes. He gently takes the back of your head and brings you to meet him for a kiss. His lips are soft and warm as they enveloped yours passionately. You reciprocated his kiss, bringing your hands to thread in his hair. Your noses brushed as you pulled away to catch your breath.

While holding each other, you remained in that position. Your breathing was slow and unsteady, and tears streamed down your face as you cried onto Wilbur's shoulder. Everything, for the first time in a long time, felt perfect.

Everything you had ever wanted was with Wilbur, and you were never going to want anything else.

Wilbur knew in his heart, soon you would get bette, because you just had to.

End.

tagging: @merakiwi @trashcanduck  @addxms @ax-y10

[princessasmosprincess]

Mermaid Headcanons

In the universe of Mermaid Splash

Pairings: The Brothers x GN Humans

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: Drowning briefly mentioned.

***

Author's note: A little extra something for Mermay. Some are longer than others but there's no real reason for this, it just happened that way.

***

Asmodeus

Tail and accessories: Amber to match his eyes, like the setting sun. He wears 7 strings of pearls of different sizes representing himself and his brothers.

As for the romance, I already have a whole fic about it here (alternatively you can find each individual chapter on my masterlist). Asmo IS The Little Mermaid.

Lucifer

Tail and accessories: Red, perhaps ruby or carmine. He wears a few strings of pearls, maybe 7 like Asmo but they're braided together since Lucifer prefers a more conservative appearance.

Lucifer thought Asmo was ridiculous for falling in love at first sight. It was a one in a million chance that just so happened to work out, there's no way it would happen again. But then one day he swims to the surface and meets eyes with a certain human and he falls hard.

Mammon

Tail and accessories: Yellow gold, and of course he's wearing tons of pearls and various jewels recovered from shipwrecks. Not only does he have them around his neck, he strings them around his tail too.

Mammon would fall for a pirate captain. He'd be at the side of their ship, listening in on the captain laying out their plans to their crew on deck, they're going to sack a town nearby with a massive treasury. Mammon is already giggling and twirling his hair. He's not just in love with their potential riches, but their mind as well.

Leviathan

Tail and accessories: Indigo like in his demon form. He'd wear minimal jewelry most of the time but he'd put more on when he was alone.

Levi is the most likely to have a secret cavern like Ariel, with a stash of human items. He even has a life-size statue of a human he likes to daydream about, but he's too shy to talk to a real human. Maybe one day he was trying to save a fish friend from a seagull and he surfaces near a human. The human, excited they actually saw a merperson, would chase after him as he swam away. They would get caught in some seaweed or start to drown and of course Levi would go into hero mode and save them. They'd begin a friendship, gushing about each other's cultures, and maybe one day it would blossom into something more.

Satan

Tail and accessories: Emerald green. He'd wear a few strings of pearls but nothing more, very tasteful.

Satan would recover a book that a human dropped from a balcony or off the side of a ship. He'd give the human instructions on how to dry the book so they could still read it later, despite their screaming since they're face to face with a real merman. He'd compliment them on their book choice and recommend a few more. When they realized he was no threat, they'd thank him for recovering the one they were reading and they would tell him about their favorite books. Every night after that they'd read by the moonlight and hope Satan would come along again to talk with them.

Beelzebub

Tail and accessories: I wanted the twins to match in some way so Beel's tail would be magenta to match one of the colors in their eyes. He'd wear some pearls but nothing too long to get in the way of his swimming or eating.

There's a couple of ways Beel's romance could go. Either a sleeping Belphie could get caught in a fisher's net and Beel would go to save him only to get caught himself, or Beel could be hunting for snacks in a school of fish and get pulled into a net. Either way, Beel befriends the fisher and tells them where to find the tastiest fish nearby, as long as they promise to leave some for him. I could totally see him sitting on the edge of the boat, snacking away as he talks with his human.

Belphegor

Tail and accessories: His tail would be purple to match the other color in the twins' eyes. Minimal jewelry most of the time because it can be uncomfortable, he just wants to sleep.

Belphie was napping on the reef when a freediver came upon him while they were hunting for pearls. They woke him up because they worried he was dead and he tried to scare them away when they tried to talk to him. Undeterred, the human returned every day, still hunting for pearls and oysters and to get to know him; in return, they would keep other humans away from Belphie's favorite napping spot, while he might encourage sharks to hunt elsewhere. A sort of symbiotic relationship.

Bonus: The Dateables' tails*

Diavolo's tail would be a deep burgundy color with gold flecks that sparkle in the light.

Solomon only appears as a human in Mermaid Splash but he does have a merform. His tail would be black that fades to a deep blue at his fins.

*Minus Simeon, Barbatos, and Luke as they are humans in Mermaid Splash

[sisterofoblivion]

Considering writing more to this lil idea of mine. Not sure what to title it. But it'd ultimately be Aizen/Ichigo and some kind of "club" AU type thing. Idk I read a fic from 2014 and was sad there wasn't more to it. And the account was orphaned so :(

Brats Don't Prosper

Aizen speaks first. "You're quiet, Renji." He doesn't push much, not with words, but his raised brow is more than enough.

Renji drinks his sparkling water, having uncharacteristically avoided his customary gin and tonic. He's also avoiding Aizen's eyes, more deliberately than usual.

"Share your mind," Aizen requests, giving Renji the full weight of his attention.

Renji is silent for a couple more moments, staring into his hissing water.

"Remember that… friend I mentioned?" Renji asks, glancing up to meet Aizen's eyes only briefly before looking back down and rubbing his arm.

"The orange-haired one with the mouth and bratty tendencies?" Aizen asks. Renji seldom talks about any other friends so anonymously, often using others’ names in conversation. He's kept this one to himself, though. “Is he why you reached out before tomorrow?”

Renji looks genuinely uncomfortable, and that's a red flag for the older Dominant. "Y-yeah. He was wasted, trying to shower last night. Which-" Renji furrows his brow, "isn't like him. I found him just…” Renji's eyes go distant, reliving the likely distressing memory, “messed up his shoulder and stuff on the way down. But..." Renji closes his eyes. "He had..." He shudders. "There's bruises on him. Like. Not..." He waves his hand, "y'know. But bad."

Aizen nods, looking off to the side for some seconds to make Renji more comfortable.

"He's a masochist, is he not? What about the marks seemed unusual?"

"See, I asked… or I tried to. Shouldn't have, but I did and he said that they, whoever they are, didn't stop. That it was fun, seemed legit, until it wasn't. They got rougher, ‘n’ didn't stop at his safe word."

Aizen briefly flares his nostrils, feeling annoyed at such blatant disrespect and disregard. Before Renji can see, he schools his features. These things happen, possibly even in his own space, but he has safeguards in place. Prevention is easier than picking up the pieces.

"He told me some details, but I couldn't understand much. He said it happened  last Friday. I found him Tuesday. Eleven days and he still looked like that."

It's Thursday mid-day. He's right. More than a week and his friend still looks so rough? Aizen's chest tightens, but he keeps his reactions to himself. He doesn't really get worked up, and Renji's fairly raw right now. Adding fuel to the fire and asking for information he doesn't have isn't going to be helpful.

"He's not usually... like... I don't know."

"Impulsive or reckless?"

"I guess? Like, not all the time. But he's been just..." Renji sits back and scratches his scalp vigorously.

Renji's getting worked up, and, frankly, looks exhausted. Aizen has no authority here, not technically, but as one of three hosting Masters in their area, it doesn't matter. His words still carry, as would Shunsui and Jūshirō's. 

"Renji." He makes his tone firm, but not any louder. He hasn't needed to raise his voice at the red haired man in several years. He isn't about to start.

"Sorry." He crosses his arms. "I warned him, sir-- sorry, I-- gah."

"It's all right. I know it's a habit; you're doing nothing wrong, Renji, just be mindful." Aizen sips at his cooling Oolong. "Continue."

"I know as good as anyone that this stuff isn't therapy. I know that. We all do, sorta. Ichigo's going to get himself into trouble."

"Likely, yes," Aizen agrees flatly, setting his tea down and lacing his fingers.

"What do I do? I brought him into this lifestyle. I..  showed him this. And he ran with it, but I'm not a top, Sōsuke. I can't--" He's getting heated again; if it's progressed this much, Aizen's surprised this is the first he's hearing about it.

"Renji, I understand why you're worked up, but I want you to listen to me. Okay?" Aizen waits until he has the other's eyes and gives him a soft smirk. "You are not responsible for any of this. None of it. Do you understand me?" When Renji's head starts to turn away, Aizen follows enough to bring him back. "Do you understand me, Renji?"

Renji nods, and Aizen lifts his brow. He knows better than that.

"Yes, I understand you." He doesn't sound happy about it, hunching his shoulders forward and making himself smaller.

It's a start, Aizen admits to himself. He knows when to pick and choose his battles, and small victories are still victories.

"Wondeful. Now, is there anything you want of me outside of a sympathetic ear and a firm talking to?" He can see it clearly on the tip of Renji's tongue, but the man knows Aizen isn't going to offer. Maybe a couple years ago, but he's witnessed Renji grow too much in his home events and at outside gatherings.

"You can say no..."

"I'm aware," Aizen says, trying to add some levity while proving a point.

"Can Ichigo be my plus one tomorrow night, Sōsuke?"

[floralcyanide]

Soco Amaretto Lime

Jerry Schilling x Reader Smut

request: congrats on 2k!! could i get 12: “I could make you feel better.” w mister jerry schilling?? i love him sm 🙏🏾 by @dilfelvis

hi its mila!! congratulations on 2k 💕 💕 6. “My tongue still remembers the way you taste.” by @sassy-ahsoka-tano

smut prompt #12: "I could make you feel better."

smut prompt #6: "My tongue still remembers the way you taste."

warnings: gender neutral/ afab!reader, smut, mentions of alcohol, underage alcohol consumption, brief cigarette smoking, inexperience, oral (afab receiving), fingering, oral (m receiving), cum eating, throat fucking, all the fun stuff.

summary: When your new neighbor Elvis Presley becomes your best friend, you meet one of his other friends, Jerry. The two of you share a special night together, only to never see each other again. At least, not for many years. What happens when you finally meet again?

word count: 4317

author’s note: welcome to request 5 of my 2k celebration! I have a soft spot for Jerry so this was super fun to write!! I hope everyone enjoys!! (: also, the timeline in this fic is kinda altered because Jerry would've been 18 in 1960, but for plot purposes, we'll say he was 18 in 1954 instead. also I kinda got carried away with the plot I had in my head so I'm sorry if this is kinda long lmao. also if it doesn't flow smoothly, I wrote half of this on campus earlier, and the rest just now so oop. (I don't feel like proof reading my stuff anymore atp sorry lol)

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here | 2k celebration prompts here | request a prompt here or in my asks.

"I'm gonna stay eighteen forever, so we can stay like this forever.”

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your neighbor and new best friend, Elvis Presley, was throwing a small get-together at his big house down the road from yours. He’s invited you, insisting that you meet his other friends and family. You oblige, deciding that getting out of the house would be good for you. Besides, you got a nice new outfit you wanted to show off. Maybe you’ll make some new friends.

You’re studying yourself in the mirror, repeatedly fixing your hair to get it just right. You aren’t impressing anyone in particular, but you never know. Dusting yourself off, you head downstairs and bid farewell to your parents as you swing the front door open. You begin your half-mile trek to the Presleys, kicking at rocks in your way every now and then. It’s a mild day temperature-wise, so you aren’t surprised to see Elvis tossing a football back and forth to some of his friends when you finally reach Graceland. Elvis spots you and immediately waves you over to him excitedly.

“Hey! I’m glad you made it,” he yells, tossing the football to one of his buddies before meeting you halfway in the yard, “Let me introduce you to some people.”

You follow Elvis to where his friends are standing and talking amongst each other. They pause when they notice the two of you approach.

“This is cousin Billy,” Elvis gestures to a boy with dark hair, “This is Roger,” he then points to another guy with red hair, but your eyes land on the taller person next to him with sandy hair.

“This is Jerry. Say hi, Jerry,” Elvis slaps a hand onto his shoulder, grinning at you.

“Hi,” Jerry says a bit awkwardly, but you smile at him.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. They live down the road,” Elvis returns to his spot next to you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N!” Billy says, and Roger nods at you. Jerry remains quiet, looking down at his feet.

“Don’t mind Jerry, he’s a little shy is all,” Elvis jokes, causing Jerry’s face to flush slightly.

“I completely understand. I’m kinda shy too sometimes,” you say, trying to make the sandy-haired boy feel better.

“Now, who wants to play some football?” Elvis grins, motioning for Billy to toss the football back to him.

The five of you play a few football games before Gladys beckons everyone inside to get washed up for lunch. Three of the guys make a beeline to the front door while you hang back with Jerry, who is moving a little slower.

“So,” you say, walking alongside him, “How old are you?”

“I’m eighteen,” he says, glancing over at you, “How about you?”

“Same,” you say, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun, “How do you know Elvis?”

“Believe it or not, we met playing football several years back,” Jerry chuckles, opening up to you a little.

“Really? That’s fun. Do you guys play football a lot?” 

“It’s few and far between now that Elvis is getting attention for his singing, but he tries to make time,” Jerry says, opening the door and letting you walk inside ahead of him.

“That’s good! I’m glad Elvis makes time for the little stuff,” you turn around to look at Jerry and walk with him to the washroom.

The both of you take turns washing up before heading to the dining room, where everyone but Billy is seated.

“Billy! Hurry up!” Elvis calls from the table, where everyone has now sat down.

“Imma comin’!” Billy shouts back from the kitchen.

He comes out with a pitcher of sweet tea and carefully sits it down at the center of the table before taking a seat across from Jerry, who is next to you. Everyone enjoys lunch and casually converses, including you and Jerry. You learn a lot about his everyday life, and he learns about yours. Every now and then, you’ll look up to see Elvis smirking at you knowingly. You just roll your eyes at him and look away.

The afternoon seems to go by quickly after lunch. You and the group of guys gather in the living room, and Elvis plays his vinyl collection. You all take turns dancing with each other.

“Would you care for a dance?” Jerry asks abashedly, scratching the back of his neck while avoiding eye contact.

“I’d love to,” you smile, taking Jerry’s offered hand.

The boys all watch the two of you dance in rhythm to the music. Billy nudges Elvis, who is still nose deep in his collection, searching for the next one to play. Elvis observes Jerry and you carefully, a smile growing on his face at the sight of his friends getting along.

The album ends, and Elvis and his friends all clap at your dancing skills, and you take a bow with your face burning in slight embarrassment. Jerry just stands next to you with a blush taunting his cheeks. You glance at the clock, noticing it is almost time for dinner at your house.

“Well, I best get going,” you sigh, turning to Jerry, “It was nice meeting you!”

“You too,” he says, his gaze lingering on you as you bid farewell to everyone else.

As you leave, you wonder if you’ll see Jerry again.

It’s now nearing ten at night, and you’re still in your clothes, lying on your bedroom floor as you listen to your favorite album. All you’ve been able to think about all evening is Jerry. You don’t know him extremely well, but well enough to have taken a liking to him. You wonder if he’s thinking about you the way you’re thinking about him. Suddenly, your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp noise. You sit up and look around, unsure where the noise came from. It happens again, and you realize it’s coming from your bedroom window. You quickly get up and go to investigate. Resting your hands on your windowsill, you peer out of the glass, and your eyes fall onto someone standing in the yard.

“Jerry?” you wonder to yourself as you open the window.

“Jerry, what are you doing? It’s late,” you scold, looking behind you to ensure your parents aren’t coming.

“I just wanted to see you,” Jerry shrugs.

You sigh, wondering how you two could hang out without getting caught. Then, you remember your treehouse that’s in the backyard. 

“Do you see that treehouse in the back?” you ask quietly.

Jerry steps backward, studying the dimly lit backyard before nodding.

“Meet me there,” you say, fighting a giddy grin.

“Alright,” Jerry says.

You pull away from the window before shutting it, smoothing out any wrinkles on your outfit hurriedly as you look around for your shoes. Before leaving your bedroom, you go to your dresser and fish out a pack of cigarettes you’ve hidden from your parents. You didn’t smoke often, but you thought it’d be fun to do with Jerry if he also smoked.

Shutting your bedroom door quietly, you tiptoe down the hall, down the stairs, and through the living room and kitchen to the back door. You shut the door behind you, sneaking through the dewy grass to the treehouse ladder. You climb up and finally reach the top to see Jerry sitting in the corner, waiting for you.

“Hi,” you say, sitting across from him.

“Hi,” he says back.

You look around the treehouse for a moment before spotting the outline of a lantern you left up there, switching it on. There was enough light for you to see the bottle next to Jerry that he brought with him. You raise an eyebrow.

“Elvis got me a bottle to bring to you,” he says, noticing my curiosity, “But you don’t have to drink it if you don’t wanna.”

You shrug, “I don’t mind it. Do you smoke?”

“Only when I’m drinkin’.” Jerry chuckles.

“Alright,” you grin, handing him the pack of smokes with the lighter.

He offers you the bottle, and you break the seal, taking a swig. Your face twists into disgust as the alcohol burns down your throat, “That’s retched.”

Jerry laughs as he lights up a cigarette, taking a puff before handing it to you and taking the bottle from your hands.

“It’s whiskey, it’s not supposed to taste good,” he jokes.

You shrug, lighting your cigarette and taking a drag, “I don’t drink whiskey, so,” you trail off.

The two of you pass the bottle back and forth, taking puffs of your cigarettes as the bottle begins to empty quickly. You’re both now lying on the treehouse floor, staring up at the stars through the open roof, and you’re giggling over something Jerry had said about Elvis. You’re glad to see Jerry’s shyness slowly slip away the more the two of you drink. You both fall silent, and you start thinking about how you probably won’t see Elvis as much anymore with him becoming more musically successful. This also means you may not see Jerry anymore.

Jerry turns his head away from the sky and looks at you for a moment.

“I can hear you thinking too hard.”

You turn your head to look at him, “I’m just thinking about how I may not get to see Elvis as often since he’s getting famous.”

Jerry hums in response.

“And I may not get to see you as often either.”

This causes Jerry to turn his head back in your direction, his blue eyes scanning your face closely.

“You wanna see me?” he questions, “Usually, people care more about Elvis.”

“Well, I care about him, of course. But I care about you in a different way,” you say, focusing on the stars as if they’ll give you the courage to tell Jerry you like him.

“How so?”

You bite your lip, eyes burning into one particularly bright star, “I kinda like you.”

“Only kinda?” Jerry jokes, trying to lighten your obvious tenseness.

You turn to look at him, rolling your eyes and letting out a scoff, “You know what I mean, Jerry.”

“I do,” he says, “But I’d like to see you prove it.”

“How so?” you say mockingly, repeating his words from moments ago.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“No,” you say, “I really don’t.”

Jerry sits up and offers his hands to pull you up with him. You take them and lift yourself from the wooden floor of the treehouse. You almost don’t want to let go of his hands for a second, but he releases your grasp before you can decide.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Jerry asks, and you furrow your eyebrows.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I’m trying to ask if you’ve ever kissed anyone without blatantly asking. Because I want you to kiss me.”

“Oh,” you say, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, “You could’ve just asked.”

“You know I’m not good with being out there with other people,” Jerry says, his drunken honesty showing.

“True,” you giggle.

You stare into Jerry’s eyes, moving closer to him. 

Both of your knees are pressed against his, your body almost involuntarily moving closer to his because of the intoxicating proximity. The truth is, you’ve kissed a boy before. But not one that you were attracted to like you were with Jerry. You glance down at his lips as you lean into him, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. You close your eyes before letting your lips press to his. And it feels like magic when you do, even if that seems cheesy. Jerry cards his fingers through your hair, pulling you as close as possible. You open your mouth slightly to run your tongue along his bottom lip, and he allows you to slip it inside his mouth. But before you can fully take over the kiss, Jerry dominates your mouth with his tongue. You let him, feeling dizzy with growing lust. You’ve never done anything other than make out in your whole life, so the more intense the kiss gets, the dizzier you feel.

Jerry pulls away for a moment, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“Sorry, I don’t want to move too fast if you don’t want-”

You interrupt Jerry by gently kissing along his jaw, nipping at the skin lightly as he shakily inhales. You return to his lips, kissing him deeply. He returns the kiss with equal passion, his fingers curling into your hair and pulling a little. You quietly moan at the motion, allowing Jerry to slip his tongue back into your mouth. As the kiss gets more heated, you climb onto Jerry’s lap, much to his surprise. He removes his hand from your hair and places both hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin when you press your core against his. Jerry pulls away from the kiss again; this time, his eyes are no longer blue from how large his pupils have grown.

“I uh,” he says, unable to look away from your lips and unable to look you in the eye, “I’ve never done anything like this.”

“Me either,” you say, “I can stop if you want me to-”

“No,” Jerry says, stroking your face, “I want to take care of you.”

Jerry slowly guides you off his lap, “Lay down.”

You do as told, and Jerry hovers over you, giving you a kiss before slowly making his way down your neck. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin until he reaches the top of your shirt. He pulls the hem up to reveal your stomach, where he continues to pepper kisses, and you fight the urge to laugh from how it tickles. 

Jerry runs a finger along the waistband of your bottoms, “Is this okay to take off?”

“Yes,” you say, growing slightly nervous.

You’ve never let anyone near you like this before, so you’re a little worried. You’re a little drunk but trust Jerry nonetheless. Besides, sober you wouldn’t allow yourself to be so bold and willing. At least you aren’t alone in not having done anything sexual in your life, so you don’t expect this situation to be perfect. But hopefully, it’ll still be fun. You push your nerves away as Jerry pulls down your bottoms and underwear simultaneously, gently laying them next to your legs. You almost feel the urge to cover up as Jerry has his eyes on your half-naked body. He leans down on his forearms before moving his face downward. You feel his breath against your sensitive skin. Carefully, Jerry licks a stripe up your slit, gathering the small amount of arousal that resulted from the intense make-out session. He circles his tongue experimentally around your clit when he finds it, which makes you let out a shaky moan. It feels too good. Jerry continues the exhilarating movement, going faster as you let out the slightest noise. Your hands fly to his sandy hair when he dips his tongue into you, lapping at the growing wetness. He runs his tongue up and down your slit before gathering up spit and letting it fall onto your bundle of nerves. Jerry then swirls his tongue around it again, nipping at it with his teeth very softly to see how you react. You accidentally let out a loud moan, and your hand covers your mouth quickly. Jerry chuckles before he envelops your clit with his lips, sucking lightly and gauging your reaction with his pupil-blown eyes. You look down at him, your mouth covering your muffled moans. Jerry starts to suck a tad harder, before switching between kitten-licking at the bud and sucking harshly. You try your best not to wiggle around or make any noise, but the way Jerry makes you feel is making it difficult.

Jerry then gathers your slick with a finger, still assaulting your clit as he gently pushes in a finger. When he curls it, you have to bite down on your knuckle to keep quiet. Shortly after, Jerry adds another finger, and then a third as you grow impossibly wetter from the stimulation. He finds the sensitive spot inside of you, rubbing it with his fingers as he licks your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re so close to orgasm, and it’s an intense feeling. Your stomach is in knots, and your body shakes from the newly experienced pleasure. Your thighs clamp around Jerry’s head as the knots come undone, pleasure overcoming you in waves. Your chest heaves as Jerry licks you and his fingers clean. He sits up and watches you twitch from your orgasm, softly running a hand over your thigh.

“That was,” you say shakily, “That was amazing. How did you know to do all of that?”

“I’ve seen some things but have never done it until now,” Jerry says, his face turning red.

He helps you get your bottoms back on after you offer to take care of him. He politely declines, saying it could be saved for next time. 

Except, that would be the last time you saw Jerry. Elvis rose to fame very quickly, and Jerry and cousin Billy joined him on tour, and every tour after that. Years go by, and you never forget your first time with Jerry. You don’t blame him for not seeing you again. He had things to do and take care of. When you’re 21, you finally move out to California for school. You finish school and work odd-ended jobs for a few years until you see that an opening for an internship at NBC is available. On your first day as an intern, you meet producer Steve Binder, who offers you a job as his assistant. This job could open doors for you while you get experience. You accept it right away. 

One day, Steve excitedly tells you about an idea for a comeback special for Elvis Presley. You perk up at this idea, hoping, after all this time, that you’d be able to see your friend again. It’s been nearly 15 years since you last saw Elvis, and so much has happened since then. It’s also been almost 15 years since you last saw Jerry. You and Steve work together to develop ideas for the special, bouncing stuff back and forth daily. 

The day you’ve been waiting for finally arrives when Elvis enters Steve’s office to talk to him. Steve is currently doing something else, so you’re in his office instead, organizing some papers. When Elvis enters the room, you almost don’t hear him.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

Your head snaps up at the familiar voice.

“The one and only,” you say, a huge smile spreading across your face, “How have you been?”

Elvis chuckles, walking over to you, “I’ve been dealing. How about you? I never thought I’d see you at NBC.”

“I’ve been wonderful. I came here for university a long time ago and decided to stay,” you explain, and Elvis nods.

“Jerry will be here in a second if you wanna say hi to him,” Elvis says.

“I’d love to,” you say, suddenly feeling nervous at the thought of seeing Jerry again.

You and Elvis continue the conversation until there’s a knock on the doorframe.

“Steve is on his way.”

You look over to see a much older Jerry with longer hair standing in the doorway. His eyes meet yours for a moment before he recognizes you. But before he can say anything, Steve approaches, and everyone dives into a conversation about the special.

You find yourself alone in the hallway outside of Steve’s office after the guys leave, and Steve shows them around the studio. You’re leaning against the wall, flipping through stapled pages of the plan for the special so far. You’re focused on reading until someone taps your shoulder. Turning around, you’re surprised to see Jerry behind you.

“Hi,” you say, surprised.

“Hi,” he says, looking you up and down not-so-subtly.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” Jerry looks down, “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s alright, I understand,” you say, “You got very busy very fast.”

“You moved away,” Jerry frowns.

“I did. I moved here for school.”

“Makes sense,” Jerry smiles, “I know you wanted to get into this business.”

You’re surprised he remembers anything you told him about yourself.

“You look good,” you say, eyeing Jerry carefully, taking in how much he’s changed. It was obviously a good change. He is still very much attractive to you.

“So do you,” Jerry says, stepping closer to you, “Are you doing anything right now?”

“Not really, just waiting for Steve’s next appointment in,” you glance down at your watch, “About an hour.”

“Wanna kill some time?” Jerry asks, his eyes not tearing away from you.

“What do you suggest?” you ask, trailing your eyes up his body, knowing what he’s hinting at.

“Follow me, and you’ll find out,” Jerry says, offering a hand for you to take.

For a moment, you hesitate. Did you really want to have sex with Jerry? Not to mention you’re in your workplace- did you want to risk getting caught? But you can't say no when his blue, familiar eyes meet yours. So you throw caution to the wind and take his hand. 

Jerry leads you to a private restroom toward the basement where no one would likely intrude.

“How romantic,” you joke as he opens the restroom door for you to enter.

When Jerry flips the light on and closes the door while locking it, you get down on your knees. You never forgot about him saying he’d let you take care of him the next time, even if that next time was a decade and a half later. So you were ready. Jerry turns around and looks down at you, surprised at your eagerness.

“You said I could take care of you the next time,” you say, running your tongue along your bottom lip with your face level with his zipper, “It’s now the next time.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” Jerry says, placing a hand under your chin, his fingers gripping it softly.

“Well, you’re the only man who has ever made me cum while eating me out. It’s the least I can do,” you shrug.

It was true. You’ve been in many serious relationships over the years, but none of them could satisfy you with oral. It was a little tragic knowing that the best you ever had was when you were 18 by an inexperienced guy you had just met. 

“Really?” Jerry exhales, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“No man has ever made me feel good,” you pout, bringing a finger up to trace the outline of Jerry’s dick in his pants.

“That’s because only I could make you feel better, sweetheart,” Jerry lifts your head with his hand still under your chin, “And I will after you suck me off.”

You look up at him as he unbuttons his pants, pulling them and his underwear down, letting himself spring free. You immediately grab his length, circling your tongue around the tip as you feel him grow harder in your hand. Enveloping Jerry with your lips, you let him slide inside your mouth as far as you could allow him. Jerry’s hands steady your head, his fingers in your hair. With your hand, you pump the rest that wouldn’t fit in your mouth. Jerry’s head hits the restroom door he’s in front of, and a groan bubbles out of his mouth. His tip hits the back of your throat as you bob your head. Your hand and head set a rhythm, both moving back and a little faster with each movement. Jerry has to grip your hair in order not to thrust forward. You let go of his cock for a moment and grab both his hips, pulling them forward, wordlessly telling him you’ll allow him to fuck your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Jerry mutters, letting his hips snap forward sloppily. 

You nearly gag but breathe through your nose as best as Jerry’s cock slides down your throat. You hollow out your cheeks as your head bobs to his thrusts, creating a delectable rhythm that causes Jerry to moan. He grips your hair to keep your head still, fucking into your mouth quickly as obscene choking noises fill the room. You don’t mind, though. You thought about this experience many times when you were younger. Now that it’s come to fruition, you will gladly be cock drunk. Jerry’s pelvis slams into your face as he gets closer to the edge. You feel him twitching in your mouth with every erratic thrust. Jerry stills his movements, hot spurts of cum shooting down your throat and onto your tongue. Before he can offer a paper towel, you close your mouth and swallow. 

“You didn’t have to-”

“I know,” you shrug, “I don’t mind.”

Jerry just looks at you while completely blissed out, pulling his pants up.

“And you don’t have to make me feel better right now,” you say, standing up and dusting off your knees, “Maybe dinner first, and then you can make me feel better.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Jerry says.

You walk to the mirror to check your reflection, knowing you probably look like a wreck. Jerry walks behind you, running his hands along your hips as you wipe away the tears that gathered in the corners of your eyes from choking.

“You know,” Jerry leans into your ear, “My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

A shiver runs up your spine at his words, “If you don’t shut your trap, I’ll take you right here and now, Schilling.”

“Sounds like a deal,” he smirks.

“I think I’m rather hungry, though. Do you think you could behave for a few more hours?” you tease, staring at him through the mirror’s reflection.

“I can, just as long as you behave too,” Jerry says.

“Sounds like a deal,” you repeat his words with a smile.

taglist: @heartbrake-hotel @elvisabutler @sagesolsticewrites @austin-butlers-gf

[alicewonderao3]

If I know me

Title: If I know me

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x original female character

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Jack Hotchner, (mentioned), David Rossi, (Mentioned)

Warnings: None, just angst and fluff

Summary: Fighting happens in relationships, and then you make up and move on. But what happens when you fight and then get called on a case? Sometimes it gets worse before it gets better.

Author's note: This is my first entry for my bingo card, the square I'm using is the Writer's choice. This is fluff and angst, my usual go to stuff. This is my second fic for Criminal Minds and I heard this song today and knew this was one for Aaron. I don't own the characters and all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. I have no beta. I also don't own the George Strait song and I use some of the lyrics. Enjoy!

Word count: 1,337

Fighting was inevitable in relationships. Especially one of those partners was a Unit Chief at the FBI with a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. Aaron and I didn't fight often, but when we did, it wasn't pretty. But this was first, even for us. Aaron and I had an argument about something small, and then it'd snowballed and before we could talk to each other, he'd gotten called for a case and was gone. 

That wasn't abnormal, it'd happened before. But he was usually home within days, and this time, he was stuck two states away, and had been gone for two weeks already. I still texted him, letting him know about Jack and how he was doing, but that was it. The fighting got worse over text, and since he wasn't always available to chat over the phone, he'd said some pretty mean things to me. 

Truth be told, so had I. I wasn't proud of it, and after weeks of being strong, I'd folded, laying in his bed at his house, after putting Jack to bed. I was wearing one of his shirts and sobbing, eating ice cream from the container, in bed which I knew he hated. I was sulking. The whole bed smelled like him, and especially his t-shirt, which only made me miss him even more. 

I'd shut off the movie I had been watching and started listening to music, sobbing when one of my favorite George Strait songs came on, singing softly and sobbing during key parts of the song. Aaron and I sometimes spoke to each other through music, sending the other our favorite songs when we were happy or upset. 

I pulled my messages up and frowned when I realized he hadn't called or texted in the last few days. I was already emotional, crying and wondering how he'd react to seeing me, and I decided to send him the song. I couldn't see to type, my eyes were wet with tears, but I sent it to him. 

I kept staring at my phone as I saw him read the text and then nothing. My lips trembled as I realized he wasn't going to text me back and I laid down in the bed, snuggling deeper into his shirt, and the soft, woody scent of Aaron's expensive cologne made me cry again. I kept my face pressed into his shirt, sobbing, and trying to be quiet for Jack at least. 

I'd been crying off and on all night, so when I heard the key in the lock, I scrambled out of bed, going down the stairs as fast as I could, as I saw him walk into the house. My eyes filled with tears as he looked up at me, my soft, dark curls frizzy, eyes red and puffy from crying, my honey brown eyes filled with sadness as I stared up at him, lips trembling, wearing his t-shirt. 

 I was a wreck, I knew this. He looked exhausted, staring down at me with that unreadable look in his dark eyes. Sometimes I hated the way he could keep his emotions hidden from me. I knew Aaron seemed cold on the outside, but I knew on the inside, he had this large hidden reserve of warmth, and Jack and I were the ones who saw that. His usually neat hair was mussed as if he'd spent the last few days running his fingers through it. 

"Hi," I whispered, still staring up at him. "I-I've missed you," I said, my voice breaking, and I saw the first signs of his true emotions as his brow wrinkled, that soft look entering his eyes. He still hadn't spoken yet, and he slid his phone out of his pocket, turned the volume down a little, and started playing the George Strait song I'd sent him. 

The soft strains of "If I know me," started playing and he walked to the center of his living room, holding his arms out for me, and I darted forward, wrapping my arms around him, pressing my face into his chest as he slowly danced with me in the middle of the night, in his house. I inhaled the soft scent of cedar and fought to keep my sobs in, and then he started singing. 

George was just starting the second verse, and Aaron sang softly with him, his face near mine, lips right near my ear as he held me close, arms tight around me. "Sometimes I lose my head, say things to break your heart. Forgetting if I lost your love, it would tear my world apart. If I know you, you didn't mean one single thing you said, truth be known, you're dying, crying, lying there in bed." 

That's when I started sobbing, pressing my face into his chest even more, fingers gripping his wrinkled dress shirt, holding onto him tightly as he danced with me, his voice still gently singing along with George in my ear. This was probably the best 'I'm sorry,' I'd ever got from Aaron before. I felt his arms hold me closer as I started crying, enjoyed the soft touch of his large, warm hands as he held me close and rubbed my back. 

I pulled back and looked up at him, eyes wet with tears, one rolling down my cheek as he stopped swaying with me and cupped my face in his hands. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough and thick with emotion. "I'm sorry, darling." He said, and I pressed my lips together, staring up at him. 

"I'm sorry too," I whispered, holding his gaze. "I missed you, Aaron," I said, and he used his thumbs to wipe my tears away. "I missed you too, darling. This case was difficult, and it dragged on. I've missed you incredibly. I was on the jet when you sent the song, and Dave made me listen to it." 

I held his gaze, enjoying his soft touch, as I asked, "Did you cry?" I chuckled when I realized he had. "I have tons of paperwork I should be at the office doing, but Dave told me to come see you." I nodded, enjoying his continued soft touches on my face. "I gotta send Dave a thank you card," I said, as Aaron laughed with me. 

"I can't remember what we fought about, but it's not important. I will never leave on a case if we are fighting without apologizing to you first." He said, his voice was serious, his tone soft and gentle. "I love you, Alice." I nodded, my voice soft. "I love you, Aaron." I said, "So much," He leaned down and kissed me, soft and sweet, holding me close and I felt my heart swell with love. 

No matter how often we fought, I always appreciated that Aaron communicated with me. It was one of those perks of dating a man who'd been married and divorced before. And as he leaned down and kissed me again, his lips soft and gentle on mine, he said, "Let's go to bed, darling." 

I nodded, and I watched how he pointedly ignored the ice cream container in his trash. He slid his slacks off, shed his shirt, and slipped into bed with me, holding me close. For several long moments, we said nothing, I just let him hold me, and this was the best part of making up. Not the conversation, not the incredible makeup sex I knew we'd have later, but this part of it. 

He held me as if I was the most precious thing in the world to him, and I snuggled close, slowly drifting off to sleep in his arms, and everything was right in my world again. I knew we'd fight again, it was inevitable. But right now, everything was as it should be. Aaron was home. He was safe. He'd caught the bad guy, but most importantly, he loved me. 

And if I knew me, and I know me, I loved him too. 

[docwritesshit]

Who needs a soulmate when I got you?

Authors note: Have Shoji on the mind today, wanted a cute little soft fic to read back to. Honestly, one of my favorite works. I am weak for this man.

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, homelessness.

Type: pure and sweet fluff.

Paring: Mezi Shoji x Kusari (OC) (let me know if you want her backstory and timeline I have planned out)

Soulmates. The ones we were going to stay by our side no matter what. The ones who were our ride-or-die, who we dreamed of meeting since the symbol appeared on our left ring finger the day our quirks finally manifested.

Soulmates. The empty promise of forever if yours doesn’t imagine you would be the one they end up with. The crumb this society gives you so you could slave away to make the feast for it to feed on. The red string that remind you of selfish hope that maybe they will find me, maybe they will care for me.

I hate to say that was my reason to keep on going while I was in the streets days after my family kicked me to the curb because of my quirk and it’s ugly “things”, meaning the lines if chains curved around my body. I would run miles to find who I was connected to on my and his birthday, and it would always be the same indigo haired boy with deep purple irises, playing with a cat that resembled the one on my finger. It gave me hope, hope he’ll be the one to care for me.

That dream was pushed aside when i got caught up with the Shie Hassaikai and Kai Chisaki, tasked with caring for Eri along with him and that whole shit show with her blood and the raid. The raid haunted my dreams, the evil look Chisaki gave me as I summoned chains around him to give the heros time to escape after blocking the bullet headed for Eri.

I met with my soulmate again after I was offically enrolled in UA, switching between both hero classes to get a feel of different quirks and so each had a chance to fight with a ‘villain’. I wasn’t that mad about it, I was with Eri and I had stable food and shelter, all I could need.

But my heart still skipped a beat when I saw the boy who was my soulmate walking the halls. His indigo stood up at all sides, and his beautiful violet eyes were now paired with dark eye bags. That just made him stand out more. I subconsciously rubbed my gloved finger where my symbol was.

Honestly, I tried. I tried to strike up a conversation. At lunch, in the halls, hell even walking back to the dorms. He gave walked off and gave me a glower. It took me five separate times for me to just give up.

The final nail in the cofffin was when walking past all the rumors and gossip that was being thrown around of me suddenly appearing in the hero course during lunch, he joined in, laughing with his friends I was in a psych ward until my parents money got me out and into UA, taking his spot in the hero course.

Fuck him, i hadn’t needed him while I was thrown ou, on the streets, or even in the fucking yakuza, who says I need him now?

I focused more on my few found friend in the hero course, all already knowing the story and brushing off the rumors. But one person compelled me out of them all.

Shoji was similar to me in some ways, we both covered the physical consequences our quirks take out on us, his mask and my insistence on wearing leggings and gloves during a heat wave. He even made me more comfortable touching people without my restraints so I didn’t accidentally glean some guilts of unsuspecting people. He was just what i needed after the shit show that was my childhood on the streets and a gang.

Which was why I was standing in front of his door in the middle of the night, after following a red string, only to hear low cries and sobs coming from the other side. I brought my gloved fist up, rapping my knuckles on the wooden door.

“Shoji? Are you there? Can I come in?” I asked, trying to keep my voice low. The crying stopped.

Shuffling, and footsteps getting louder.

The door creaked open to find a dishelved mess of a hero student, hair unruly, eyes red and puffy, and his tank top looking like he hadn’t changed in the last few days. It was clear he just frantically pulled his mask on as well.

“Umm, hi.” He said, his left hand fidgeting with the end of his mask. I smiled, casting my eyes into the room. He got the hint, moving away from the doorway. The rooom stood as bare as the day he moved in, a bed palette and a small table with a mat.

I fully faced the man, taking his hands in mine. He stiffened as I rubbed my thumbs on the top of his hands, feeling the roughness even through the gloves.

“Breathe with me, ok?” I suggested. He nodded. I closed my eyes as I inhaled, peeking a bit to check if was doing the same. I held it in a bit before exhaling with Shoji mirroring my actions. We repeated a few times, me leading him to the palette on the floor and sitting both of us down.

“Ok, do you want to talk about it?” I asked. He looked down at me, the height difference making it so. He nodded after awhile, taking one of my hands and fidgeting with it, an action I did when we were hanging out with the others and just needed to calm down.

“It’s… my soulmates birthday today. And… she hasn’t tried to…” He chocked up, a few new tears pooling in his eyes. I got on my knees to wipe them away before they could stain his mask. He took a shallow breathe, and continued.

“I found her early on, she was following the string to me in the playground, and screamed. She ran off, and every time I would see her after, she would just cower in fear. When we got older, she stopped being afraid, and instead, she was disgusted. Pulling my mask down in front of everyone in the cafeteria and laughing. She would spread rumors, and gained sympathy as who wouldn’t for the girl destined to be with the monster?” He swallowed, taking a few breaths. I bit back my frustartion of the audacity of cruel children. I dealt with a few in school who made fun of my markings before my parents pulled me out and locked the door on me.

“I just.. wanted her to show she cared, even just a little bit.” He let go of my hand, head hung low as tears fell before I could wipe them. I bit the inside of my cheek, throwing caution to the wind. I held his shoulders and lowered his head to my shoulder hoping he couldn’t feel the thumping of my heart in my chest, running my fingers through his hair, trying to style it to it’s normal state.

“She is missing out,” I whispered,” She doesn’t see how much of a great person you are. She doesn’t look past appearances, and that’s someone I personally wouldn’t want in my life.” I started rambling without even realizing it.

“You are in Class 1-A, the clas that went through the most shit and pulled through. So she doesn’t see your resilience, your strength.” My other hand started to trace his shoulders.

“She doesn’t see these ‘monstrous’ shoulders constantly hold the weight of the world during missions. How they can’t break, no matter how people try to.” I traced his biceps.

“She doesn’t see these ‘freakish’ arms as the ones that scout to make sure everything is safe and people can do as they please. The absolute talent it is to control each and every limb to make it do what you want. Even then, they are the ones that give the best hugs on the worst days. These arms that lift your friends up and spin them around just so they could laugh.” I held his hand, fidgeting with it like I always do.

“These hands that you let me play with so I could calm down, the ones that get me my favorite dinner. The hands that lift everyone in this class up, the rocks of this class.” I locked eyes with him, wiping stray tears.

“These eyes that witnessed horrors unimaginable, and still find the good in this world. The eyes who saw my past actions through phots and videos, who saw me still and still looked at me with kindness, fully aware of his other friends apprehensiveness. The eyes I stare at and know I’m safe with you. They eyes I imagine to get me out of my guilt trips. This man in front of me is not a monster, but a gentlemen who is the sweetest person I have ever met.” I finished everything with a smile, his eyes so big, so full of… something i couldn’t pin point. He sat up, taking my hands again.

“Do you mean that? He asked, eyes narrowed. I bit my lip and nodded. He let go of my hands, his creeping up to his mask. I tilted my head, was he really?

“If you’ll allow me, I feel… like I can more comfortable doing this.” He said, fingers hooking under his mask. I nodded, letting him continue. When his mask fell around his shoulders, I took in the view. His mouth was marred with scars, his mouth it self was jagged and wide. I smile, placing my hands on his cheeks and tracing some scars.

“And now I know another thing she couldn’t see. The smile that now brightens my day.”

Shoji’s face relaxed, and gave me a toothy grin. What surprised me was him grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up off the floor as he got to his feet, spinning me around. I yelped in surprise, and tried to stifle my giggles as it was late at night still and I knew Bakugou was on this floor.

Shoji put me down after a bit, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzled his head in my neck, his breath ghosting over my skin, causing goosebumps to rise and my heart to beat faster and faster.

“Why couldn’t we be bound?” He mumbled, the soft question making his chest reverberate.

That made a light bulb go off in my mind, and I smiled up at him.

“Who says we need to be with our soulmates?” I asked. He stiffened, pulling away and placing his hands firmly on my shoulders.

“Kusari, no. You still have your soulmate out there-“ I stood on my tip toes and help a finger to his lips.

“Yes I do, and I found him.” I say. He started to back away, but I held his hands in place. I’m out letting him push me away. Who needs that dipshit? I found my true soulmate.

“He doesn’t care for me. I stopped caring for him when I heard him take part in the rumors and laughing with his friends. But we found eachother. We know each other, and we care for each other. Who needs those damn bullies? They can have each other, I want you.” I stated, pulling him back in, and hugged as tight as I could.

He stood frozen for a spilt second before reciprocating, deep chuckles coming low and deep in his chest, the most beautiful noise I could hear. That I was blessed to hear.

“Promise me you’ll keep that energy if your soulmate comes crawling back after he’s seen what he’s missing?” He asked, smile evident on his lips. I smirked, looking away in mock thought.

“I’m not sure.. he is handsome?”

“More than me?”

I grinned, and shook my head, “Nah, your handsome both in and out, his soul is just straight garbage. But promise me the same. You won’t go back, even if she pleads?” I asked.

He looked over to his table, walking over and reaching under it. He pulled out a photo, coming back over and gave it to me. I took it, seeing it was a printed school photo of his soulmate. She was stunning, her face sharp framed by straight black hair and wide eyes that were filled with diabetes inducing sweetness.

“I think I found a better soulmate anyway,” he said, taking the photo and ripping it up. I smiled, collecting the scattered pieces from his hands, stuffing them in my pocket.

He grabbed my hands once again, looking me in the eyes in permission. I nodded, and he slid the gloves off, another arm forming a hand to grad the discarded gloves. I saw the guilts I have seen so many times before, kids shrieking in terror at his attributes. But those same things that made him be called a monster were the ones showing me such affection, taking my hands up to his lips and leaving sweet kisses along the knuckles. I smiled, taking his hands and mimicking his actions. I reached for my gloves, but he held them over his head.

“Nah, not yet. You have one more kiss left.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, but got the hint when his other hands lifted me up a bit and he leaned his head down. I closed my eyes and let it happen, relishing in his softness. He was so gentle, making the kiss linger long after we broke away. I smiled dumbly, and hugged his neck

“Oh my dinosaur,” I whispered. He snorted at the childish nickname I gave him a few weeks before.

“I think I like this better than our original plans the universe had for us.” He said.

“Yeah, me too.”

[stayconnecteed]

https://pin.it/757HqDrDi

Its giving hard Dom Chan, just throwing that into the universe

🪐˓⠀˚⠀swim⠀@⠀bang chan.

(link) it's giving hard dom chan indeed 🫣 the universe has 🔞 thoughts under the cut hehe AND ALSO this is a shout out to our boy christopher who now writes his own smaus in bubble ( college au, forgive me for all the clichés )

SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀2.3k words. ⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀join taglist.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀smut ★ mentions of neck kisses, restrictions, rough sex, hard dom chan i guess (it's the reason we're all here), no aftercare.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀plot ★ chan is the hot captain of the swimming club and everybody thought he was a good boy... turns out he wasn't. c

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀credits ★ mdni banner by @cafekitsune.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀warnings ★ if any under 18 / ageless acc interacts with this fic i'll block them.

⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀author's note ★ this was going to be a thought but it had to turn into a drabble full oneshot because i can't shut up akjshkajsd also i have no idea about how to write hard dom so i hope this is not some crazy babbling 😔

Chris and you had properly met at a party. You were friends with the one who had organised it ⎯⎯that sweet boy from your class called Felix you had been talking to since the start of the term⎯⎯ and Chris was one of the boys of the swimming club of the campus, who shared apartment with the freckled aussie. You knew who he was, of course, everyone there knew. Thanks to him, your college had won all national competitions three years in a row. And he had been in the team for those three years. So yeah, he was pretty popular.

And so were you. Yeah. Huh, kind of. Well, you weren't as popular, okay? Your first prizes in national poetry contests didn't matter to anyone when they could cheer for the handsome, curly-haired swimmer. You didn't hold it against him, though. It was kind of impossible. The boy was all kind words and gentleman behaviour, to your dismay, so you could only sigh and accept his nature.

The problem was that, somehow, you had caught his attention. Your literature teacher, who had a soft spot for you and was certainly a gossip fan, had told you once that the day before, when you had been absorbed reading the last book you had bought, that Chris guy had been stealing glances towards you all afternoon instead of listening to his teammates. 

That would probably have surprised you, if it hadn't been for the fact that the week before he had greeted you at the end of one of his training sessions 一where you had gone to see Felix exclusively一 in front of the whole team and their female public with a quick wave of his hand and a wink. And that two days before that, he had offered you his umbrella when he saw you waiting for the rain to stop under the arcades of your faculty. And that earlier in the month you had bumped into each other in the corridor, and he had helped you pick up your backpack from the floor.

You knew it wasn’t a coincidence. At that party, in that exact moment, watching how his gaze slid around the room, his lips curving in an ambiguous grin as he saw you. And you smiled back, batting your lashes in a flirty gesture, your hips swaying to the music, turning to your best friend. It had been a risky move, you knew. But you also knew guys like him. Angelic looks, impeccable manners, but with more red flags than the most beautiful beach whose waters were infested with sharks. And everyone knew his reputation: dedicated athlete by day, fuckboy at night. It wasn't a secret he tried hard to hide. Your point? Let's just say the adrenaline of a dive among predators was something you were willing to try. So you waited until you felt his breath caress your neck, and the deep voice of his Australian accent whispered a "What are you up to?" in your ear.

"What do you want me to be up to?" you replied, turning your head just enough to admire his side profile, feeling the warmth of his body against your back, mirroring the eager gleam of his gaze in yours.

You noticed the moment he slid his hands to secure them on your hips, his palms practically burning your skin, and you dropped your head against his shoulder with a sigh as he pushed his hardened bulge against you, smirking into the crook of your neck. And you also noticed the moment his breath hitched, as you grinded softly against him, when he tightened his grip on your flesh, swallowing a groan he didn't intend to let out.

“If you keep this up, it’ll get out of hand” he warned, chuckling, his laughter in a low, almost dangerous tone.

"What happened to your kindness and nice greetings, pretty boy?" you asked, turning to face him, sliding your hands over his shoulders, your faces mere inches apart.

“You really like it when I act all weak and nice, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, cracking a lazy smile, and tried to prolong the tension, hovering over his lips tentatively, whispering “I really like it when you stop with the bullshit, Channie”.

And yet it was the fact that you dared to leave a sloppy, wet kiss over his cleavage, that sharp line that his black shirt didn't hide at all, what made him snap, his hand grabbing your wrist in a rough motion, dragging you through the crowd while you just smiled. Your train of thought was totally interrupted as Chris closed the door, his lips all over yours, pinning you against the wall. And you let him be, arching your back when he placed one of his hands on your neck, the other twitching slightly over your waist every time you tease him by exhaling shaky moans into the kiss.

The second time you attempted to slide your hands into his pants he groaned against your lips, grabbing your wrists and pulling them up to press them above your head, your hands clenched into fists but avoiding resisting, pressing his body to yours. “Stop with that” he warned, his gaze darkening when he looked at you from above, your cute smile doing nothing to soften his motions.

“Or what?” you answered, sweet venom dripping from your voice, grinding again towards him, “What are you going to do about it?”

“Oh, so you are one of those girls” he said, his mouth wearing a wolfish grin, tightening his grip on your wrists, bringing his face closer to yours until you began to breathe the same air.

You snorted, unimpressed, "The kind of girl that makes you want to repeat the night?"

“The kind of girl that needs to learn a lesson” his breath was light as a feather over your neck, every exhale tickling your skin, and you muffled a whine, biting your lower lip. Oh, you liked where it was going.

“And you’re the one who’s teaching it to me, mmm?” you whispered, your eyes closed, craving to feel his lips against yours one more time.

He licked your neck, his tongue drawing a wet line up your throat, and you felt his crooked grin against your jaw when he heard you whimper, your brows furrowed in concentration. But when he pressed a wet kiss on that soft spot under your ear you lost it, your body going loose under his strong grip.

“Are you familiar with the traffic light system?” he asked, caressing the skin of your wrists, which was starting to turn slightly red, your pulse pounding like crazy against the palm of his hands.

“Green” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering with every movement of his lips against your bare neck while talking. “Oh, so green”.

“Just checking, baby girl” he chuckled, securing one of his hands over both of your wrists, the other one grabbing you by your jaw. “You say red, we stop. Meanwhile, you're all mine”.

You didn't have time to respond before he attacked your lips again, and you melted into the kiss, the pressure of his fingers controlling your face adding fire to the excitement pooling in your core. You couldn't help but sigh, your mouth responding messily to the demanding rhythm of his lips, a gasp spilling out as in one swift bite, Chris pushed his tongue in. You didn't care that your shoulders were beginning to get a little sore, not when you were savouring him like that, when he was kissing you in a way that had you craving more, that had you shivering against the wall every time his hips pressed you into the hard surface behind your back.

And when he parted from you, your lips chasing his in an action that made you feel embarrassed, you opened your eyes. You could still feel the touch of his fingers lingering on your skin, even if he had removed them, when you felt his hand snake between your bodies, cupping your cunt with a contented sigh. He began to rub the spot, fast motions over your clit that made you throw your head back, eyes closed in pleasure, feeling his soft fingertips move in circles expertly.

Your thighs twitched in anticipation each time Chris increased the speed of his fingers, clenching into nothing, ignoring the way your skirt had risen up to your waist. You knew you were leaving a stain in your underwear, you felt it, wet, against your entrance, and wondered if he was feeling it too. But all thoughts left your mind as you felt him pull your panties aside, his fingers collecting all your arousal, and your breath hitched as he slid them between your folds.

You heard him breathe out a shaky "Fuck..." as he felt the way you tightened around him, your walls swallowing his fingers with hunger, your hips following his rhythm and jerking non-stop to his thrusts, working you up with regular, fast movements. All you could do was beg him not to stop, to go faster, harder, as your legs quivered, gasping and crying out until you came in his hand.

"Open your eyes" he ordered you, his voice demanding and raspy, and your eyelids flickered before you made eye contact with him. You parted your lips, a breathy moan spilling between them, as you watched him bring his fingers to his mouth, his tongue sucking them clean. "You're not so talkative anymore, are you, brat?"

You shook your head, allowing him to use you as he pleased, feeling the firmness of his body against yours, the exact moment when he released your wrists from his grip. His hands flew to your hips to keep your legs from giving way under your weight, and your arms fell slack, the only thing that seemed to keep you sane being Chris's predatory gaze on you.

A gasp left your lips as Chris spun you around quickly, pressing himself to you again, his knee between your legs, his aching cock throbbing against you. You stifled a whimper against your hand, the other resting on the wall, the coolness of the surface providing some relief to your heated skin and he attached his lips to your neck.

You missed his touch when he moved his hands away again to unbuckle his belt, grabbing a condom from his back pocket before undoing the button of his jeans, shoving his pants and underwear down. Seeing you fall apart on his fingers had affected him more than he would ever admit, his leaking tip being the proof of it, and he needed to fuck you stupid so he could forget about you.

He stroked himself a couple of times before slipping the condom down his shaft, sliding then his hand over your belly, pulling you to him, and his cock inside you, the stretch making his low grunt and your muffled moan mingle in the air you breathed. Chris felt his ego grow as with each thrust all he heard was your soft ah, ah, ah's flooding his ears, letting him arch your back as he wished, his hands permanently gripping the flesh of your hips with a bruising grip.

“Fuck—cunt feels s’good—ah, around my cock” he slurred, your desperate clenching driving you both insane.

His pace didn't falter, his hips slamming aggressively against your ass, fucking you with all the strength of his swimmer body. And you couldn't stop babbling obscene noises, pushing yourself back at him, trying to find some support in the wall, every trust leaving you breathless, feeling his chest against your back when he bottomed out.

And when you started to sound wrecked, when your eyes rolled back into your head and his fingers digged into your skin, hips shattering into each other with precision, you let out a broken moan, the orgasm that had been building inside you finally snapped. You felt how he pulsed inside you, fucking into you almost at an animalistic pace, chasing his relief, and when he came, a low grunt echoing in the room, his hot, sticky cum filled the condom, his hips rolling into yours to ride your highs together.

You allowed yourself a moment, feeling his body over yours, both of you breathless, panting, his sweaty forehead resting against one of your shoulder blades, to recollect yourself. Chris slipped out of you, getting rid of the used condom, and you heard his airy laugh as you leaned with your back against the wall, adjusting your underwear and pulling down your skirt, smoothing all the wrinkles on its fabric.

When you hear the sounds of Chris’ belt, watching him accommodating it comfortably around his hips, you made eye contact with him, curving your lips in a cute smile —that cute smile you always flashed when you had what you wanted— and you approached him. You left a sweet kiss on his cheek, a gesture that contrasted too much with the roughness with which you had just treated each other, and you placed your hand on his chest for a moment, one last caress before whispering your farewells.

“It was fun, Chris” you muttered, your lips dancing over his without touching. “Enjoy the rest of the night”.

And you winked at him, closing the door on your way out, and heading back to the party. You could have asked for a second round, pushing your luck, getting your hopes up. You could have even got his number, let him use you as his fucktoy, enjoying his body if you couldn't have his heart. But you knew what guys like him were like: angelic looks, impeccable manners. If he was a great swimmer, even if he had too many red flags, it meant nothing when you yourself behaved like one of those sharks. How was it? Delicate poet by day, fuckgirl at night.

© stayconnecteed 2024 ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

fresh cut grass (rainy days)

by PancakeBluess

Tommy tucks his head in between his arms, as he lays his head down on the table, to tried to care about the stickiness that covered it. Time slowly moves by, and he thinks he must’ve fallen asleep for a couple minutes, maybe even longer, before he gets awake again. His mind is foggy, but there's a voice speaking- he blinks, looking upwards before spotting a guy. The guy from the last booth he had noticed earlier, curly brown hair with a bright red beanie- he frowns. “Hello there homo-sapien.” What. “A’e you on d’ugs?” The blonde mumbles, eyeing the guy and his weird yellow sweater, trying to ignore how weird this interaction has become. “Homo-sapien, y’know, another word for human, or person.”

or crimesboys be crimeing, am i right chat???

or, or tommy meets a strange fellow at a mcdonalds (read tags!)

Words: 2720, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Minecraft (Video Game)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Other

Characters: Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit

Additional Tags: Trans Male Character, Trans TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Trans Male TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), He/Him Pronouns for TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Strangers to Friends, besties frfr, trying out a new writing style r u guys proud, Transphobia, thats a big one, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, mcdonalds, thats imporant i swear, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), hes like 7/10 parents guys hes trying, Young TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), bros 13, Young Wilbur Soot, hes eighteen, Musician Wilbur Soot, only slightly mentioned guys, Bisexual Wilbur Soot, not mentioned at all but he is in this fic, cupioromantic tommyinnit, also not mentioned at all but he is, i am projecting guys can u see, but its cool, Found Family, kind off, One Shot, ???? - Freeform, Maybe - Freeform, MIGHT turn into a two shot idk, Milkshakes, Food Fight, the mc donalds worker is tried, Let Them Sleep, quakcity is a mence, Mentioned Alexis | Quackity, ok i think thats it, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), yknow the drill, guys some 16 yr hitted on me the other, u can call me, pancakeerizz, how do u tag, i got a dog btw, no beta we die like ghostbur on that train