#au: strawberry sunday
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❧ word count: 18.3k
❧ warnings: cursing, renjun gets CONSENSUALLY dosed with a magical aphrodisiac For Science
❧ genre: fluff, humor, one (1) heavy makeout scene but no actual smut, 0.1 seconds of angst if you can even call it that, academic rivals to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, siren reader, human renjun ft. siren ten, same universe as strawberry sunday
❧ extra info: in my lore, siren scales are visible when they’re in more human-like forms because of magic, and it’s not an indication of their skin tone at all. so when the reader’s scales are mentioned, please don’t take this as any sort of allusion to them being pale/light-skinned! i tried to take care and make sure i wasn’t implying that in how i wrote it, but please tell me if it reads like that
this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!)
❧ author’s note: y’all. get ready for this one. no spoilers but renjun and reader r both crazy and nobody should be subjected to them except each other. like they both look at the other and think “i could fix them but whatever the fuck is wrong with them is infinitely funnier to me” but they’re both Wrong. they could not fix the other. i don't want what they have but good for them. anyway as always i had way too much fun writing this that it went over my projected word count and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it too
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!
“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
#renjun#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#renjun x reader#huang renjun#nct dream imagine#renjun imagine#nct imagine#nct dream fluff#nct fluff#renjun fluff#i: renjun#f: dr_magic2303#au: strawberry sunday#*100#*200
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Taken: 31/07/2022 - Good Morning Sunday 🍓
#Photos#Photography#Edited Photos#Food Photos#Breakfast#Sunday#Mornings#Cheerios#Pain Au Chocolat#Banana#Strawberries#Blueberries#Nutella#Actimel#Orange Juice#Fruit
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National Lemonade Day
Warm weather means lots of good things—but it also means more thirst! Quench it with one of the world’s most refreshing drinks, the ever-popular lemonade.
A tall, icy glass of yellow (or pink!) lemonade is refreshing and terrific no matter what time of year. However, it does have particular benefits when consumed on a super hot, super sticky summer day.
National Lemonade Day celebrates the long-standing tradition of drinking lemonade and opening lemonade stands. It encourages others to celebrate too, by supporting these children in their business. Whether it’s for a charity cause or for that very special thing that child wants to earn for themselves, National Lemonade Day is all about drinking lemonade and having a good time.
Sweet but tart, and perfectly refreshing, National Lemonade Day celebrates everything wonderful about this delicious beverage!
History of National Lemonade Day
Lemonade stands have been a traditional American pastime, but when did this tradition start? Lemonade has always been a popular beverage since its invention, and children benefit from lemonade stands by learning many things about how to open and fun a business.
But it would probably be wise to go back further and start at the beginning with the well-known fruit itself, the lemon! Lemons were originally discovered around 1st century AD when the Romans and Greeks established routes to India, where this yellow, tart citrus fruit is believed to have first originated.
After its discovery in India, the cultivation of lemons began to spread to the Middle East and throughout Southern Europe, where the climate was still hospitable for growing the lemon trees. During this time, lemons were considered a bit of a luxury item in cooking as well as in decoration.
The activity of squeezing the juice from the lemon to make ‘lemonade’ probably happened in the Mediterranean region during the 13th century and was considered medicinal. And it probably didn’t taste sweet the way we expect it today! However, because lemons are so filled with Vitamin C and other healthy nutrients, it is easy to see why it would have been used for its important health benefits.
Lemonade is believed to have been introduced to America by European settlers in the 17th century. It wasn’t until the beginning of the industrial revolution that lemonade stands would become a popular way of teaching children about leadership and money.
National Lemonade Day was founded by Lisa and Michael Holthouse in 2007 to honor the way lemonade stands are a useful tool to teach children about running a business. The tagline says it all: Teaching Kids the Power of Entrepreneurship.
Lisa Holthouse was inspired to create this holiday by a time in her childhood when she wanted a pet turtle. Her father helped her set up a lemonade stand to raise money to buy the animal herself. Since then, over 250,000 children take part in this fun celebration each and every year!
How to Celebrate National Lemonade Day
The celebration of National Lemonade Day can come in all shapes and sizes–from kids to adults! Try these ideas for enjoying the day:
Visit a Lemonade Stand
Support children everywhere by purchasing lemonade from their stands! Purchasing a lemonade can help build the confidence of a child, helping them understand the value of money and even learn lessons about being in a small business.
By purchasing a lemonade, this simple act can potentially inspire future business leaders.
Whether the money is for the child or for a charity, lemonade stands can be a great way to give back to your community. When they experience success children can become inspired to be amazing people. Share this holiday with your friends and family and spread the love for lemonade!
Help a Child Set Up a Lemonade Stand
Throughout the day, children learn valuable lessons about responsibility, finances, and setting goals and the importance of teamwork. People in their local communities support these children by getting a delicious drink in hand.
If you have a child, this might be a great day to help them set up a lemonade stand to teach them about business and money. But people without children can get involved too!
Whether encouraging a family member or neighbor kid, helping a child set up and run a lemonade stand teaches children planning skills, the value of money, patience (when waiting for customers to come!) and the enjoyment of interacting with the public.
Participation in this holiday is free and can be registered through the National Lemonade Day website. Children in cities all throughout US territories and Canada participate, from up north in Alaska to all the way down to Puerto Rico! Kids can add their stand to the map so they can be found by local people in order to drive their business.
After the day, success stories about kids who have made and met goals can be shared on the website for encouragement and inspiration!
Enjoy a Cool Glass of Lemonade
Even if there are no children or lemonade stands nearby, that doesn’t mean National Lemonade Day needs to go unnoticed or uncelebrated! Whether hand squeezing some lemons and adding sugar and water to create a freshly squeezed glass of goodness, or grabbing a lemonade at a local restaurant, participating with an enjoyable beverage is a great way to honor the day!
Some restaurants even offer discounted or free lemonade on the day, often combining the effort with donations to various charities.
Louisiana-based Raising Cane’s Chicken Fingers is appreciated for their sweet but tart lemonade, and they have been known to hold charity events related to National Lemonade Day in the past. Red Robin is another American restaurant chain that has celebrated by offering free lemonade samples and giving money to charity.
National Lemonade Day is a great day to enjoy a tall glass of lemonade and do something good for someone else!
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#Kentucky Crush Lemonade#frozen lemonade#strawberry lemonade#street food#restaurant#cocktail#TIm Hortons#Dunkin'#travel#Canada#don't drink and drive#au bon pain#Canadian Maple Donut#iced coffee#USA#Boston Cream Donut#J.W.'s Pink Lemonade#Lemon Black Tea Lemonade#vacation#first Sunday in May#7 May 2023#national day#original photography
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ jake sim fics that make my heart go pitter patter⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
beautiful pieces of art written for my most beautiful boy
~~ a new, updated fic rec list for the boy who owns my heart because i be reading okay, y’all *cries*
part one / first jake fic rec list here!!
warning: there are suggestive themes/smut that may be embedded throughout the fluff and angst fics as well)! please dni if that makes you uncomfortable!! (jake x afab reader/gn reader) minors dni, please‼️
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
all time favourites ♡
fics contain a combination of genres including fluff, angst, suggestiveness, smut)
♡ rule number 1: don’t fall in love
♡ kiwi and layla
♡ hold me like you always do
♡ 14 steps to a better you
♡ pocky
♡ always
♡ monkey bars (part one)
♡ roman holiday
♡ to all my firsts with you
special ending
♡ you are in love
♡ the set up
♡ midnight rain (back to you)
fluff ❀
❀ cupid
❀ classmate au
❀ chapsticks
❀ 6:17am
❀ our kimchi
❀ sim jaeyun - the one with things that happen in your friendship
❀ i find my paradise
❀ strawberries and cigarettes
❀ that’s how you get the girl
❀ good girl
❀ go ahead*
❀ 21:14*
*ps: my potterhead self (who happens to be a slytherin) was squealing and kicking my feet reading these two likeeeee eeeeeeepp
❀ wait, date?
❀ try again
❀ sunday mornings
❀ 8:30pm
❀ speak now
❀ home = you
❀ in another universe
❀ care and love
❀ is that seat (=are you) taken?
angst ☽
☽ cupid’s mistake
☽ was this shirt always so big?
☽ can you please come over
☽ i’m low on gas and you need a jacket
☽ wish you back
suggestive/smut ☁︎
☁︎ body on me
☁︎ grateful sinners
☁︎ cruel summer
☁︎ two best friends in a room
☁︎ dying to drive but you can’t find the keys
☁︎ coffee and mathematical physics
☁︎ tease
☁︎ how jake kisses you
☁︎ bestfriendsbrother!jake drabble
☁︎ the taste of you
☁︎ he’s yours, but am i?
☁︎ silly competitions
☁︎ prove it
☁︎ focus
☁︎ fwb!jake
☁︎ can i kiss you?
☁︎ take me away
☁︎ forgotten consequences
☁︎ brand new moves
☁︎ help you out
☁︎ addict
☁︎ talk me down
☁︎ for old times sake
☁︎ get off that stupid game
#enhypen#enhypen fic#enhypen fic recs#enhypen jake#sim jaeyun#jake fluff#jake angst#jake smut#jaeyun fluff#jaeyun angst#jaeyun smut#jake fic#jake fic recs#jake scenarios#jake imagines#jaeyun scenarios#jaeyun imagines#jake x reader#jaeyun x reader#jake sim#jaeyun fanfic
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MJ's Masterlist - Bucky Barnes
Consider all of my works to be 18+, minors DNI.
Warnings can be found on the individual fics.
This masterlist will be regularly updated as I post more works.
🖤 - smut
🥀 - angst
☁️ - fluff
🥇 - most popular
🫶🏼 - my personal favs
One-Shots
What Am I To You? 🖤
Bigger Than He Was 🖤🥇
Strawberries 🖤🫶🏼
It Was Sunday 🖤☁️
Look At Me 🖤🥀
I Hate You
Against The Rules
Two-Part Fics
Flustered: Part 1, Part 2 🖤
Breathe: Part 1, Part 2
Series
Needs & Wants (Sex Pollen) 🖤🥀🥇
Time & Temptation (Roommates w/ Benefits, IN PROGRESS) 🖤
Off-Limits (Mafia AU, IN PROGRESS)
Christmas Season One-Shots, Two-Part Fics
Half-Tongue Rule 🖤
Insufferable 🖤
Making Sure 🖤🥀
Candy Cane 🖤
That Wasn't Quiet 🖤
Right Here 🖤
Wear That Again 🖤
Dreaming About Me? 🖤
Inevitable 🖤
We Don't Have to Stop 🖤☁️
Letters to Santa: Part 1, Part 2 🖤
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#mcu#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#bucky barnes smut#masterlist#smut#reader insert
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Simmer #3
CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu
[4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too.
The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon.
Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago.
Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”
It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne.
It was easy. It was simple.
That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar.
“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”
You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—
“Jesus, watch it!”
You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel.
“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter.
You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”
You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge.
“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”
Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”
You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun.
“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”
He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”
You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue. “I heard the food is shit.”
Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink.
“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted.
The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out.
“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up.
You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand.
“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”
“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”
Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”
Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”
Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down.
“Well?”
“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore.
“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”
Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette.
The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress.
He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before.
“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”
—————
By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain.
“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”
So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of.
Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”
You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers.
“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”
“Think he was lookin’ for you.”
You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting.
Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast.
“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.”
“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land.
Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”
So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening.
Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out.
“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”
Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him.
The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue.
“Sorry.”
—————
Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.
He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away.
There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology.
“Thank you.”
Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter.
“You got a crush, my friend?”
Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer.
“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket.
He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal.
—————
The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices.
It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach.
She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—
The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both.
So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago.
But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship.
The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor.
You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”
Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked.
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”
Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”
Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different.
Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew.
You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I�� the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”
The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier.
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne.
“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”
When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone.
“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”
You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”
Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed.
And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson drabble#linecook!eddie
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parent teacher conferences and other places to meet a pornstar
next: [2] coming soon: [3] [4] || ao3
𓅪 Rated: E | 4.5k
includes: cam girl AU, teacher AU, masturbation, public sex, caught, fingering, voyeurism, come swallowing, facial, deep throating misunderstandings, confessions
𓅪 cam girl fem!reader x jason todd, eventual cam girl fem!reader x roy harper, eventual cam girl fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper
You hated people your age. Always quick to judge and even quicker to shun.
Kids, on the other hand? You could deal with them.
Kids couldn’t turn their noses up at you, they couldn’t gossip about you and they definitely couldn’t use Google. If they could, they’d find your not so clean history. You’ve never been fucking arrested- none of that shit. No, you needed to make up extra money to compensate for the low paycheck you take as a teacher during the day by becoming a camgirl at night.
It hasn’t been a problem at this school yet, but it always seems to pop up at the most inconvenient times. Eventually, a dad catches whiff of it, their wife gets jealous and you’re quietly let go. This is your third school in four years and you didn't really want there to be a fourth.
That’s why you dread running into parents who come to pick up their kids.
You catch this all-telling gaze of a redheaded man from across your classroom. He’s helping Lian with the cupcakes she’d brought in for her birthday today and you quickly adjust your glasses, hoping he won’t recognize you.
The hope is in vain.
Your smile is strained as he makes his way over to you with his little girl and leftover cupcakes in tow. His gate is too assured, his eyes too jovial. So, you do what you do best: ignore the parents.
You bend down to Lian’s level to help her remove the cupcake wrapper from the red cupcake her dad’s given her. “Did you have a good birthday in class today, Lian?” She nods excitedly, chomping into the dessert with gusto. “Do you have any fun plans for tonight?”
Your question is obviously for Lian, but it’s her dad who responds.
“Do you?”
You clear your throat, standing from your squat as you face the redheaded man. This isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on but it always throws you off guard when it happens.
You shut him down easily, “Grading Lian’s test from today. Isn’t that right?”
Her pigtails bounce up and down, “It was about the different types of clouds in the ‘mosphere.”
“Atmosphere,” You correct her with an amused smile.
Much to your chagrin, he continues on like you haven’t rejected him. “You look like someone I know of,” He trails off as if trying to place your face.
Mr. Harper- Roy, you correct yourself, looks to be in his mid-30’s. He has a decent amount of stubble, crows feet grace the corners of his verdant eyes and his hair looks like it used to be a brighter orange than the faded strawberry color it is now. He’s exactly the type of audience you cater to on your porn channel.
“A person you know of,” You repeat his words with an uninterested drawl. You wish the conversation would resolve itself or just fucking end. This beating around the bush shit isn’t for you. “Odd phrasing, but alright.” You need to change the subject and quick. “I’ll be seeing you at the open house next week, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, babe.”
You barely contain your eyeroll as you correct him on your name. “It’s Miss,” You tell him your last name again sternly.
“You’re killing me, Miss,” He says your last name, obeying your correction.
“Tragic, I’m sure. Anyway,” You continue on unphased as you focus on saying goodbye to Lian.
He finally moves out of your classroom but lingers in the doorway, “Have you… Were you ever a librarian?”
Don’t reveal anything. Don’t reveal anything.
You calm your breathing. It’s too pointed of a question for him to not know the video that made you famous: a librarian who gets bent over any and every surface in the library.
“I’ll see you next week, Mr. Harper,” Is all you respond.
You’re fucked.
➸💋➸
The Sunday before the parent teacher conference, you’re scheduled to stream.
Most of your material is solo streams and uploads, which makes it easy for you to make content and stick to a schedule. The few production videos you’ve done required a lot of coordinating and planning in advance. It’s a total hassle. That’s why you like your streams. You’re able to wear what you want, use whatever toys you want and you get to pick the location.
The library closest to you is always deserted, especially so on the second floor where the old Fax Machines are stored. The second floor holds records, old newspapers and magazines as well as a smaller collection of nonfiction. Total snoozefest for some, but the perfect public filming spot for you.
The nonfiction section is a separate room from the rest of the second floor and is hidden behind the shelf of vintage magazines. You’ve filmed in here a few times before, but never streamed. This is why you’ve chosen to come in around two hours before they close to eliminate as many possible chances for someone to catch a peak.
You’re giddy as you wave to the librarian who always seems to be behind the counter as you make your way up to your favorite spot. You’re wearing a cotton, white wrap dress, no bra, red thong and heels. The light material shows off everything. Coupled with your signature glasses, you look irresistible.
There’s one desk inside the room, right in the middle that you quickly shove out of the doorway view. The heavy desk is the bane of your existence, especially in your fucking heels, but this way no one can see you unless they literally walk into the room. It’s not fool-proof, but it’s what you’re working with.
Always punctual, you start your stream right on time.
avid_reader began stream
Slowly, viewers trickle in as butterflies stir in your stomach. No matter how many times you stream, you always feel a rush of anxiety as soon as you click ‘Start.’
Private streams are a whole different ballgame.
Though you do offer it, you charge a steep price for private cams. So far, only your top fan has been able to meet that price more than once. The dude isn’t a creep, nor did he have any kinks you weren’t comfortable with, hell, the dude was pretty funny too. Out of all the fans to get you in private, you’re glad he’s the only reoccurring one.
From his requests, you can definitely tell he’s an ass man. You also know that he likes when you wear clothes like you are today: inconspicuous yet revealing. Though he’d never say no to your lingerie, he always preferred tight fitting, see-through tops and short skirts more so than babydolls and matching sets.
Before you get too into everything, you tease the camera you’ve set up on the desk with your nipples that poke through the fabric. You adjust your glasses that fall down the bridge of your nose as you do so, earning you your first tip of the night.
You like to wait for your top fan to join, or at least give him a chance to, but you don’t have to wait too long before his name pops up.
inmyarsenal: this is gona b gud
Though his typing is horrendous, it easily brings a smile to your face, something he notices and tips generously for.
It’s going to be a good night.
You reach your first goal and slowly draw your tits out of your dress out into the open. Your nipples are already perky as you grasp your hands around them and squeeze. Your nipples poke through your fingers as you jiggle your grip around your breasts
inmyarsenal: someone’s gonna walk in on you babe
You bite your lip, looking toward the empty doorway, “I’ve been lucky thus far.”
inmyarsenal: i want t walk in on u baby. sO good for me
He sends another tip, completing your next goal all on his own.
“Eager today, aren’t we?”
Your stomach flips, knowing what comes next. You shoot another worrying gaze toward the doorway before scooting the chair back a bit from the desk so the camera can see down to your knees as you spread them. Your red thong is on full display for your thousands of viewers.
You pull up on the fabric, leaving the thong to disappear into your pussy lips as you do. You tease a bit longer like this before finally puling the fabric away and exposing yourself fully.
You spend a few minutes slowly rubbing your cunt until you feel wet enough for what comes next. You tease the egg vibrator against your entrance, noting how the tips come in what seems like every second now. Within a minute, you reach your next chat goal- this one allows the tippers in the chat to set the speed of your vibrator. The more they tip, the longer they get control over it.
You slip the egg inside of you with a breathy moan. You use the silicone string that hangs out to continue to make the vibrator bob in and out of your hole, moving the camera to offer an up-close view of it.
No one in the chat gets a chance to call dibs before your top fan swoops in with a tip big enough to control the remote for over 15 minutes. You both know that you won’t last that long with him on the controls.
He starts off strong tonight, easing you into it for only so long before he ups the ante. Your settings on the app allow your viewers to control the tempo with their own vibration patterns that they create, meaning every single sinful vibration is caused personally by him. It makes it that much better.
Today, however, it’s like he has a personal vendetta against you or something with he way he clearly wants you to leave the library with a squirt stain on your dress. Hell, he’d probably tip extra just for you to film your walk of shame, too, the fucking sadist.
“Fuck,” You can’t hold back your moans any longer, not caring how loud you’re being when it feels this good.
One hand teases your nipples and squeezes your tits while the other rubs desperately at your clit. Your legs are spread over each side of your chair at this point, though they’re not much support when they’re shaking this hard.
You’re about to come when you notice him out of the corner of your eyes.
“Shit!”
He’s not the ugliest person to orgasm to, that’s for sure. The man, however, is someone you fucking know.
ABORT! ABORT!
If anything, your top fan seems to pick up that someone’s walked in on you and uses the last few seconds of his control to push the vibrator to its limit. Your hips fly from the chair, arching as you orgasm with a pathetic whine.
You end your stream, shaking and panting while your come-hazed mind struggles to address the Wayne ward in front of you.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” You rush, trying to regulate your breathing.
You’ve already covered yourself up with your dress, but your thong is around your ankles and there’s no nonchalant way to fix it. That, and the large wet stain that now adorns the lower half of your dress from the front and the back.
Luckily, as soon as you ended the stream, your vibrator ceased, though it still remains inside of you.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
You’re at a loss of what to say, what to do, let alone where to put your come-dripping hands as you stare wide-eyed at the gorgeous man in front of you.
Normally, you’d think it was a pick up line, but no, you have met before. Many times.
Your mother had been Bruce Wayne's elementary school teacher. Each year you were invited with her to the annual Wayne Gala. Even after her passing years ago, the invitation still came, now addressed to you. Throughout the years of attending, you’ve met him a couple of times, but never much past the standard ‘how are you’ and never memorable enough to even remember his name.
This is a lot more than a ‘how are you.’
“I don’t really know how to answer that right now.”
Surprisingly, he snorts, “I can grab some towels from the bathroom for you.”
You just nod dumbly, half planning to escape the second he turns his back, half wanting to stick around and see how this all plays out.
While he’s gone, you pull off your thong and shove it in your bag along with the vibrator you pluck out.
Moments later, he returns with what seems like the entire roll of paper towels. He hands them to you, eyes never leaving your face before moving out to roam about in the room over.
You try to hurry up, wiping yourself down and packing up your shit at record speed. You walk into the other room sheepishly, paper towels still scrunched up in your hands as you meet his quirked brow and blank face.
"Thanks," You say, hoping he won't bring it up.
Luckily, he doesn’t.
“So,” He draws out the word. You’re honestly surprised he hasn’t left at this point. “You like nonfiction?”
You burst out laughing, something he appreciates with a small smirk as he turns over a title in his calloused hands. “I just like that it’s private up here,” You tell him your actual favorite genre before asking what’s been on your mind. “You’re Dick, right?” Out of all the Wayne ward’s names, this is the only one that springs to mind.
He huffs, putting the book back on the shelf, “Fuck no.”
“Sorry,” You hesitate. Should you just leave him alone and flee with whatever little dignity you have remaining?
“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sounds apologetic. “It’s Jason.”
That name does sound familiar.
“Jason,” You repeat out loud without meaning to, something he notes with a small smile.
“That’s the one,” He drawls with a deep, gravelly voice. Most normal people would respond with their own name, however you just sit there in your squirt covered dress as he flits into the nonfiction room you’d just been in. Oddly enough, he asks, “Can’t really recall your name either, if I'm being honest, kid.”
“‘M not a kid,” You mumble in embarrassment, holding your laptop case against your wet spot. You’re 25 for fuck’s sake.
“Probably a good thing considering what I just saw,” He jokes lightly, though his attention appears to be on the books in front of him. You can tell his gaze is slightly unfocused, though.
You tell him your name as you make to leave. “Maybe I’ll catch you around,” You say.
His emerald eyes finally lock onto yours again, “Maybe you will.”
➸💋➸
At open house the next day, all the dads stare at you, while the moms result to glaring at you.
It’s what you’re used to.
You’re hot as fuck, it’s why you do porn. It’s why men like Mr. Harper think you have a familiar face.
Speaking of, the man’s been well-behaved for the most part. Aside from his lingering emerald gaze, he remains in the back of the room with crossed arms as he leans back in Lian’s chair.
The button-up you’re wearing shows off your lofty cleavage and tucks nicely into your skintight pencil skirt. To someone like Roy, you assume you look like a walking wet dream. Your hair’s up in a bun and your signature glasses as your red heels clack along the laminate floors.
You go over your plans for the remaining half of the year as well as the project and letter the kids had created for the open house. It’s an hour long event with time left for questions after, meaning you’re fucking drained by the time you’re ushering the last of the parents out the door. Surprisingly, Mr. Harper doesn’t linger, nor does he actually say anything to you. It’s entirely odd, but you’re not complaining.
You need a fucking drink.
You didn’t plan to go to a club, it’s totally not your scene. Somehow, tonight it feels right.
It’s a seedy place, but the drinks are strong and cheap and it’s exactly what you need after a long day like this one. You’re still in your teaching attire as you settle into the practically empty bar. Monday nights and clubs don’t exactly mesh well, meaning it’s close to dead but that’s fine with you. You’re just here for a few drinks, then maybe treating yourself to some Chinese food.
You let your hair down, shaking it out as the lanky bartender comes over to take your order.
There’s a man across the bar from you. His face is obstructed by a red hoodie as he asks the bartender for something. If you tilt your head just right, you're able to get a better look at the white tuft of hair hanging prominently in front of his eyes. It kind of reminds you of Jason…
It’s as if he feels your curious gaze on him because his sharp one flickers your way.
Green eyes meet your wide ones.
It is Jason.
Do you make the first move, or does-
Before you can finish your mental question, he raises a questioning brow your way as if asking for an invitation to come closer. You grant it, moving your purse over so he can sit.
“Hey,” You say as his hulking form sits down beside you.
“Not feeling nonfiction tonight?” He gestures down to the book you’d been reading before he approached.
You blush, hating how easily he has a hold over you.
Though you’d only planned to stay for a drink, you order another just to keep the conversation going. The two of you talk about everything and anything. The one topic the two of you keep coming back to is books and he doesn’t exactly let you off the hook for the library.
“Don’t think I’ll ever view that section the same way again,” He takes a coy sip of his whiskey.
“I really am sorry,” You apologize genuinely. “I didn’t know anyone even used that section and I-"
You start to ramble but he cuts you off gently.
“Trust me, I didn’t mind,” You watch as he downs the last of his drink and signs his tab. “You want to get out of here?”
You blush even harder. The liquor settling into your system warmly surely doesn’t help any, nor the heat behind his half-lidded eyes.
“I don’t know if I can wait that long,” You bite lightly at your lower lip.
“You do like public places, don’t you?” You snort, covering your face in embarrassment, but he won’t allow it. He removes your hands from gentle, placing gentle kisses to each.
“I do,” You agree with a light smile.
“There’s an alley out that door,” He offers lowly.
It’s all he has to say to get you up and out of your seat, following behind his muscular form.
His thumb draws light circles against your hand as he holds open the door for you to leave through first. “Shit,” He says suddenly. “You left your purse.”
You look behind you and notice that, yes, your dumbass left it on the seat next to you. Without another word, he leaves you to grab it.
You still have your phone on you and use the camera app to check over your makeup and hair as you wait in the alley for him. You hear a random noise from the rooftops, but think little of it as the hooded man sneaks up behind you. His large hands caress you from behind as he pulls you backward against his strong chest.
“Can I touch you?” He asks lowly.
Your breath sputters, wanting nothing more, “Jason.”
His hands slip even lower on your torso, applying a gentle pressure as he reaches your lower stomach. “What kind of panties are you wearing?” You can’t help but snort. He must’ve liked the red thong because you feel his dick stir to life when you mention much of the same. “Shit,” He groans when he shifts up your dress.
He runs his fingers along the fold of where your thighs meet your pussy as if to check if you’re telling him the truth.
You hear more clattering from above but can hardly focus on it when Jason turns you around to face him. It happens so fast that your mind’s still reeling from the action as he backs you against the brick wall of the club to finally slip a finger inside your thong.
“Fuck!” You buck against his calloused index finger as his body molds against yours.
His lips capture yours in an instant with an intensity that leaves you crying out with want. It’s muffled against his lips as he holds your hands above your head with only one hand while the other focuses on working through your already slick folds. He refuses to touch your clit, which leaves you mewling and struggling against his hold.
It feels so fucking good.
All of a sudden, there’s a loud ‘thump’ that forces Jason to startle slightly away from your gasping form.
“Ma’am,” A gruff voice startles the two of you. “Are you alright?”
Before you can respond, words are already out of Jason’s mouth. “Arsenal?” Jason asks, sounding entirely confused.
Your head untucks from Jason’s sweaty neck to see a random-ass dude in a costume staring at the two of you. Your mouth is wide as you take in the new form in front of you. Your eyes trickle lower on his red uniform to where it protrudes out around his crotch.
Apparently, Jason’s seen enough. His hand shifts slightly as he moves and you can’t stop the light breath it draws from you.
The costumed man visibly takes in the man’s face as if it’s familiar.
“I thought she was in trouble,” He trails off as he realizes that everything going on here is completely consensual.
They stare each other down for a few more seconds before Jason’s lulling you back in.
Instead of stopping, Jason’s fingers soon begin again and you resort to hiding your face against his neck as you allow it. He notices the man’s continued presence and smirks down at you, “Are you good with this?”
You nod, moaning loudly when he rewards you with another curl of his thick finger. You definitely aren’t used to doing this shit for free, let alone for a live audience, so you feel a bit shy. The shyness only lasts for so long before you suddenly grow bolder, throwing your head back erotically as Jason brushes against your g-spot.
Jason nips at your neck, leaving bites and bruises in his wake, but your half-lidded eyes are focused on the masked man in front of you. He’s yet to move, let alone breathe, it seems.
You can't deny that he’s ripped, nor that his muscular arms are doing things to you.
He’s hot.
“I don’t care if you touch yourself,” The words are out of your mouth before you can realize it.
It’s as if the floodgates have opened as the vigilante begins palming himself through his suit. His movements are erratic and sloppy as if he’s never touched himself before, though you suppose he’s never run into a camgirl in an alley before, not that he even knows.
You don’t even have to try to put on a show, Jason’s really that fucking good. Every moan, every writhe of your body and every shaky word you beg are all real reactions to his skillful hand.
Jason’s hand picks up speed as you draw nearer, his lips catch deliciously against your own as he coaxes your tongue lewdly with his. “There we go,” You whimper, then cry out as his fingers squelch in and out of your slick cunt. “Just like that.” With Jason and the other man’s eyes attached to your pathetic form you come, nearly crumbling to the ground as you do. Luckily, Jason’s strong arms catch you with a small laugh, “You alright?”
It’s your turn to laugh, “Fucking amazing.” You bite your lip, eyeing the obvious strain in his jeans, “Would you want me to-?”
“Fuck yeah,” He breathes out, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You tantalizingly pull your hair up, something you did in your infamous scene.
Both men watch with slackened jaws as you squat down and unzip his jeans. His clothed cock tents out from the opening of the zipper and you waste no time in sucking at the head through his boxers. Once the fabric is thoroughly soaked through, you pull him out to fully admire.
You bite playfully at your lip, staring Jason in the eyes as you spit on his bobbing cock before slowly taking his length down your throat. When you reach the hilt, you moan, feeling the vibrations of it settle across his skin, “Mm.”
“Shit,” He groans and his arms shoot out on the brick wall behind you as if to control himself from fucking into your mouth. “Done this before, babe?” He teases you, though his eyes are completely dark with lust.
“A time or two,” You jest back with an impish smile. Your glasses have completely ridden down to the tip of your nose at this point, something he notices and pushes back up with his thumb.
The action causes a loud groan from the vigilante beside Jason, “Fuck, man.” He’s eagerly fisting his cock at this point, eyes never leaving you.
“Want to taste her come?”
The moan the other man produces sounds pained, desperate, as he latches onto Jason’s calloused fingers coated with your slick.
You suck more eagerly, watching the whole interaction with fascination. You’ve never done something like this before, but you don’t think you’d mind doing it again.
“You taste so good,” The other man mumbles. You have no choice but to blush around Jason’s thick length, deepthroating him until tears spill from your eyes. “So good,” He mumbles again, completely lost in you.
You swap between teasing and deepthroating until you can tell he can’t take it any longer and attempt to finish him off with one of your signature moves.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-“ Jason caresses the back of your head as he empties out into your mouth. He pulls out and splatters the remnants of his come across your lashes.
You blink heavily, turning to the other man as an invitation, “Not sucking your dick, but you can come on my tits.”
“Fair enough,” He mumbles, completely distracted as you pull your tits out of your bra.
Your tongue pokes out to taste Jason’s come on your face while your hands squeeze at your tits like you had on stream. Poor dude doesn’t last another 20 seconds before his hot come splatters across your chest with the rest of his load drizzling down into your bra like a claim.
Definitely have to wash that when you get home.
Both men help you stand, though the vigilante takes off soon after zipping his pants.
Jason sticks around to walk you to your car, sending you off with his phone number.
When you get home, you barely have time to reflect on what the fuck had gone down in the alley when your laptop chirps oddly. You set down your purse on your kitchen island as you traverse over to your desk. Upon opening it, you find your channel pulled up and see inmyarsenal has left you a $200 tip.
You shake your head quizzically, eyebrows furrowing as you search to see if it’s been a mistake, considering you haven’t streamed since the library. You go to refund it to him only to see the note he’s left with it:
inmyarsenal: have to stop coming by your streams. tAke this as compensation- no refunds :)
A/N: I've been waiiiiting to finishing this fic since last april!!! not super edited if i'm being honest
if you'd like to send me nice things in my ask box, it would make my day :,)
[next] || ao3 || pinned
#reader x roy harper#reader x jason todd x roy harper#jason todd x reader#reader x jason todd#dc x reader#x reader#my fic: parent teacher conferences and pornstars
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enfócate ii: non-negotiable
❛ pairing | tutor!miguel x student!reader
❛ type | explicit
❛ summary | miguel has to choose his battles: insist on removing peter from your life or get what he wants.
❛ tags | schoolgirl au, spanish tutor!miguel, Miguel's jealousy, slight obsessive qualities, fuck buddies, fuck boy Miguel, mention of physical assault, hurt peter, mention of violence, breakups, non-penetrative smut, slightly unknowledgeable reader, silly playtime.
❛ sy's notes | masterlist here. please READ THE TAGS. on this fic particularly, i seem to encounter people who trigger themselves.
Miguel had many girls.
None gave a shit when it came down to it. They talked a good game over text messages and phone calls, tried their best to please him sexually, and snuck into their bed. They might even have lunch or dinner with him. Very rarely this.
He was doing his notes that Monday afternoon, scribbling away when his phone lit up. He flicked a look, realizing it was your photo that popped up. Not the many cum stained photos he had in his phone in your own folder. Those were not safe for any of his bosses to see, but one of those sweet photos that Peter’s taken.
Miguel isn’t stupid. He knows a love-sick puppy when he sees one. One look at Peter’s socials reveals many things: volunteering with a high school club to teach photography, stupid little flowers that he finds gorgeous, a number of subjects for his fine arts degrees, and on Sunday-- you. Sitting on a chunky rock in a beautiful dress in a stream, the sun bouncing off your strawberry-dusted cheeks. He has to do something about Peter.
“¿Qué pasó, Princesa? I’m finishing my notes.”
“I have something for you,” you answered. “Come outside.”
“For me?” Miguel tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder, closing his manilla folder that held a time-sensitive report. Miguel grabbed his keys and wallet, heading for the door. Everyone else was gone for the day, but Miguel did his homework in the lab.
“Sí,” you laughed. “¿Quién más?”
“Tch,”
At least those Spanish lessons are paying off. Miguel rushes down the three flights of stairs in record time and pops out the back door. You pushed past the archways into the beautiful gardens that usually obscure pedestrians from staring at scientists as they quickly woof down their food and bolt back inside to deal with whatever piteous work they had. Miguel slips on his dark sunglasses, turning his arms one over another. You have time to stop and appreciate nature, more than he could say about even himself.
“Princesa,” he hangs up the phone and takes a few steps to the tables where you were, twirling around the scent of fragrant orange blossoms. He bites back an amused smile, his voice picking up in a humored lilt. “What are you doing?”
“Dancing!” you hopped on one stone table, then the other.
“Don’t fall,” Miguel snatches you short of falling off the third table, setting your ass down with a mindful pull of your dark burgundy skirt over your thighs. “Why did you call?”
You supply him with a wicker picnic basket that was hooked over your elbow, pulling open the flap. The warm smell of meat and corn greeted his nose, finally shaking loose the smile that he had suppressed since you first called him.
“I brought you dinner.”
He blinks.
“Me?”
“You said you had to study for your test,” you looked up at the red brick building, “It’s better if you don’t get distracted by going out for food.”
He doesn’t have the heart to tell you that he usually brings his own food, regimented as he is. Miguel sets his hands on your hips and watches as you pull free whatever it was you made him. You set aside the basket and offer him the glass container and a bag of tamales, enveloped in their warm little husks.
“Menudo. And these are tamales con carne. My familia makes them every year. I brought them just for you.”
“You didn’t have to,” he murmured.
“But I wanted to.” You reached for the envelope collar of his lab coat, smoothing it down against his chest. “Besides, every one of my primas do it for their men. I can’t keep just bringing food home for Peter.”
It’s not that serious, he wants to say. There’s something soft about the way you recount it to him. He can’t stand to go against what you’re saying and instead sets the food back in its home, tucking your hair behind your ear. He traces the shell to your lobes, flicking his finger against the dripping earrings.
“Come upstairs.”
“No,” you answer quickly, leaning up to place a meager little kiss on his cheek. “You should be studying and if I go up there…”
He’d definitely get in trouble bringing his fuck buddy up to his office. Still, it might be worth it.
“I won’t get anything done,” he finishes. “Give me a real goodbye kiss.”
“You didn’t like that kiss?”
“It was a sad kiss.”
Peter was an essential part of your life.
He was closer than a friend if such things spaces between friendship and relationships existed. You supposed that in the absence of romantic relationships, friendships were the next best thing. Who else, but family, would support you? You nibbled on a hunk of toast with sweetened cream cheese and frozen berries ala Peter, whose head draped over your thigh. Your fingers combed through his thin brown hair, twirling bits around your index finger as he lay with a full belly and fuller thoughts.
“Sooo, how did it go?” Peter asked, staring at fluffy clouds that whirled by that perfectly cozy afternoon. “Did my super awesome plan go perfectly?”
You’re too shy to talk about it.
“Aw it did, didn’t it? I knew it!” Peter reached up, tickling his fingers through the ribbons of a pearl headband you wore that day. “Is he good? I hear all kinds of stuff about him.”
“Peter,” blood rushed to your face. “We haven’t…”
“Haven’t what?” he asked. “Ohhh. Oh. You haven’t fucked him? I thought…”
“We did-- just not that,” you patted his warm pink cardigan, flapping your hand down. “We haven’t you know--”
“Had sex?”
Peter could be too much sometimes. Today was one of those aggravating days. You settled down your hunk of toast, bobbing your head in a nod, eager to explain without making the words. “Just… oral. I couldn’t Peter, I’m not ready yet.”
“I know,” Peter’s tone goes soft. “But he can’t be happy about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every time Miguel has a new girl, he makes sure to fuck them as soon as possible. Keeps ‘em connected, or something, or that’s what Dana says.”
“Who’s Dana?” you chirped after him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You… looked so sad seeing him with someone else. I couldn’t… break your heart like that."
“You couldn’t tell me, but you could kiss me?”
“It was a nice kiss. Isn’t it about time for him to stomp past here?”
You wonder what Peter might mean by that. He slid his eyes shut, humming with one long leg thrown over the other. About time for his afternoon nap until you shook him awake because of your sore arms or back-- whichever came first. He slides his eyes shut, going to sleep under the feeling of your fingers twirling through his hair.
“You’re impossible, Peter.”
Peter was always right. You spotted your muscular man walking past the hedges, in a clean white shirt that obscured nothing about his muscles. You thought he would do what he usually did: wave, move on, talk to whatever whore of the day was on his arm.
He was walking with a girl who was tall and lithe. She made no moves to cling onto him as he slipped down the slight grassy slope where you sat with Peter, reviewing the intricacies of corrugated pottery before class. Your heart soared in your chest as he crouched down, a hand on his knee, scanning Peter’s face.
“I thought we talked about this.”
You didn’t expect those to be the first words out his lips, but lo, they were. He regarded Peter the same way he might an annoying animal with their favourite human, with blatant distaste and a passing hint of jealousy. You didn’t understand why.
“About…”
“Other men.”
“Peter isn’t another man. He’s non-negotiable.”
Miguel’s thick eyebrows pushed together as he processed the blatant line in the sand that you drew. You weren’t about to give up your dear friend, picnic dates at lunch, or photography shoots on the weekend for a man you sucked off. No matter how good he tasted and how thick his muscles were, crouched with those wild chocolate eyes.
“I’ll stay away from other men-- but not him. You take it or leave it.”
Miguel worked his jaw, clearly debating on the value of fighting you then and there. Miguel didn’t negotiate. It was never in his nature.
“Miggy,” called the woman on the sidewalk. She wore a dark bob, a streak of purple spiraling along her head. She has a terribly squeaky tone, one that is full of ire from having to say anything at all. “The samples.”
“This isn’t over, Princesa.”
He relented. Not because he wanted to, but because time was undoubtedly limited. You were pretty sure it was.
Miguel is breaking another rule. Not only does he glaze over Peter in your life, but he brings you to his apartment for tutoring. He’d deal with Peter after he secured you. You were proving one of the most difficult of his women to keep.
Come over, it'll be private, he claimed in a text message. It’s absolutely not to peel away your soft pale pink panties nestled up against your cunt, drag them down your hips, and onto the floor. He’ll keep those.
It’s not because the desk in the study room would do nothing to obscure his sinewy frame, shoving your legs apart and dragging you to the very edge of the seat.
“Take your vocabulary quiz.” You nibbled on your pencil as Miguel buried his head between your thighs, biting down on your thick thighs to encourage you to spread your legs wider. You breathed out an elongated hiss at another bite to your opposing thigh.
“Pero, Miguel-- how…” you murmured, making the mistake of looking between your legs. Miguel met your gaze, possessed with the smell of your body. You greet him with a choked-out groan of his name the second his mouth connected with your pussy. He knew you would taste sweet.
“It’s very simple. You start writing,” The quiz should be easy. A simple finish the sentences with the right word and vocabulary word box to boot. It was terribly easy-- if not for Miguel’s tongue suckling the juices that dripped from your core, you might have already finished it. It was hard-- too hard-- to focus on anything but Miguel’s warm tongue prodding your cunt, his fingers sliding within your hole. Miguel urges his finger around the rim. “Preferably something in Spanish.”
His tongue slid from your entrance to your clitoral hood. Another finger joins the first, twisting and pulling apart your impossibly tight hole. He just knew you would feel amazing. He suckled along your lips, suckling them wet as you struggled to read and make any sense of what was on the page. It wasn’t going to happen.
“Miguel, Miguel--” Your voice drew out, it had been so long since you had a partner. “Dame más.”
“There you go,” Miguel hummed, closing his mouth around your puffy clit in worship for the admittance. The pencil tumbled free from your fingers. Without thinking, your hand buried into Miguel’s silky dark brown hair, rolling your hips onto his face to pursue an orgasm. He suckled it fat and needy, his fingers curving in your body. With a soft sob, the pleasure caused you to gush messily all over his fingers. Your fingers knotted up in his hair, riding his face until you’re left with nothing but the cozy haze of your pleasure.
You don’t know how you’re going to pass this stupid language requirement now.
Miguel kisses you, soft and sweet, gentle and light. You taste yourself on his tongue and worry about the way you taste. Miguel doesn’t seem to have a single complaint. He grabs your hands, helping you to stand upright, even though your legs were as stable as a newborn giraffe’s. With your body against Miguel’s, you could feel the outline of his cock nice and hard, tenting his sweatpants.
“Should we take this to bed?”
“I…” you asked, shyly so. “I’m not ready for that. Is that… okay?”
Coño. It’s not the answer he hoped for, but Miguel can be patient. He dips his head down and resigns himself to a night of jerking himself off. He had been looking forward to today, fucking his new girl. He steeled himself from any reaction that may inch across his face and offered you his hand.
“Claro que sí, princesa,” Miguel finds himself saying. It’s not that you can’t retract the consent, but he knows that you have some shyness to do so. He rather honesty over concern for his ego. The session had at least been an hour-- with Miguel’s focus fading at the sight of your cute little pink dress. “We can stop here. You can take the test as homework. Have it done by next time.”
“But… you’re hard.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve jerked off,” Miguel shrugs off the thought. It wasn’t how he imagined today going, but it wasn’t-- Miguel dropped his gaze down to his waistband. Your fingers tingle over the white ties, pull them loose.
“I want to take care of you,” you shoved his sweats onto the floor, pooling around his slender feet. Miguel’s cock bobbed in the cool air, impossibly hard. You walked him back from his desk to his bed. He falls back on it, his big dick kissing his muscular stomach. “Lay back.”
He found himself eagerly complying. You snatched the lube he keeps on his desk, likely knowing that he kept it there for just this reason. Miguel likes to think that his sexual needs are usually met-- but sometimes, they aren’t. You shoved his legs apart and climbed onto the bed, gliding your hands up the inside of his thighs. A warmth filled his lower belly as you popped open the plastic bottle and drizzled it over his cock. The cool liquid made him flinch.
“It’s not that cold,” you asked, a tease on your lips.
“You find it funny? Let me pour some on you, then,” Miguel remarked, his gaze following your fingers. You gripped him, soothing your palms over the top of his cock and back down, milking him like with your soft hands. You spend particular time smoothing over his root, tracing his veins up to the tip. Your thumb massaged his slit, smoothing a soft bead of fluid that gathered there.
“Do you like it?” you asked.
“It’s nice.”
He hummed and lolled his head back onto his pillow. You met him where he was, your lips against his, exchanging a soft and wet kiss. A groan escaped his chest, clearly appreciating your affection. You want him to love it, need it, and crave it at the end of the day. Maybe you could not do all the things the other women could, but there was something about the way you looked and touched him that he knew he could not easily replicate.
“Miggy. How do I make it better?” You asked, more of a whine than anything.
"Better?" Miguel reached up, cupping your breast with one hand. He gives you a squeeze, urging your nipple to harden underneath the fabric. His hazy eyes turn to the other breast, repeating the treatment. You nodded as he worked-- and it's cute how much you want to make him happy.
“Let me fuck your tits. Get on your back, take the dress off,” Miguel looked toward the bottle of lube. He finally has you naked. Every inch you peeled away revealed a little more precious skin that he’s craved to see all week. You slipped off the dress, then your bra, laying back on the sheets. The lube is lukewarm, but when it hit your warm skin, it caused you to flinch too.
“Oh, now it’s cold,” Miguel teased. You smeared the wet lube over your breasts, pushing them together just right. Warmth bit your cheeks as Miguel mounted you, either muscular thigh on the side of your ribs. Between his large body cradling your breasts and his eyes on yours, he realized that you were terribly shy. He rubs the head of his cock against your nipples before sliding between your breasts. “You’re so shy.”
“I’m sorry,” you nodded. It becomes clear that as much as you trust him-- there is some barrier to complete trust. Miguel began to thrust, his hips cantering in the warm, wet lubricant. You could appreciate every day he spent at the gym, making a physique that other men could only aspire to. He was so thick-- so handsome. His breath came out in sharp little puffs as he worked, hands coming on top of yours for both stability and the opportunity to touch you. His fingers slid between the empty gaps of your own, eyes closed, face taut with pleasure.
You knew, as much as he knew, what he was thinking of. His cock wrecking your pussy for the first time because no matter how many times you jerked him off, sucked his cock, or let him fuck your tits, he’d always wonder. He was certain you wanted it too, wanted to feel what it would be like to be under him-- pounded pretty. Your head rose to watch his cockhead peep out between your breasts. Every sweeping motion was rewarded with a little lick, earning a hiss of your name. His measured features hardened.
“Coño,” Miguel cursed as the thick ropes of his cum coated your tits. He forced himself forward, cum pumped over your collarbone and neck, dripping into your hair. The grip on your breast was unrelenting, while the other jerked himself through the bolts of aftershock. To his surprise, you gathered his cum between your fingers and suckled it, tasting his warm salty fluid on your tongue. He watched you, enraptured, as you cleaned yourself-- then went after his softening dick, suckling the spent seed there.
“Beautiful,” he murmured as he pulled away. You followed, inching up his chest to kiss him. He tasted himself, finding that he liked how he tasted much more when it was on your tongue. “Stay the night.”
He never asked anyone to stay the night. It was a flagrant violation of another rule that all the others knew he had. Miguel was open to having another roommate. A pretty girl to fuck and keep. She just had to be the right kind of girl. He has a feeling you’re that girl, nestling between his arm and chest, holding him close.
He just had to fuck you first to find out.
The thing about having multiple girls is-- his interest wanes.
He never knows the exact cause. Only that he’s distracted with you. Perhaps it’s your resistance to letting him actually fuck you. Not eat you out, not have his dick sucked, not fuck your tits, but fuck you. He’s thought about how a hundred different ways. Against the museum, in his bed, in the library, his private office-- It encompasses much of his attention. You were at Peter’s art showing Friday night, which was how he ended up here with Dana, yet again.
She wants to see this stupidly romantic movie that no one else is really into from the looks of the empty seats. Miguel isn’t invested either, his mind is racing with thoughts of someone else. Her lips are wrapped around his dick in the dark movie theatre, he goes soft. Soft-- Miguel rarely goes soft, he’s looking for a hole to fuck into. Apparently, this one is no good. He eventually sighs, pushing on her head to remove her from his cock.
“What is it, Miggy?”
A balance of light and shadows highlight her face as she sits there, looking positively aggravated with her failed Friday night date. Miguel knows that he can’t perform like this. He glances down at the near-empty theatre and itches the back of his neck, tucking himself back into his jeans.
“I’m not horny,” he murmured, folding his arms one over the other. He’s surprised she can hear him over the beaming sound of the movie theatre. She does, shoving his shoulder in protest over his shitty performance.
“You’re usually horny,” she bites back.
“Then maybe it’s you.”
The impulse to take it out on Dana is out before he can control it. She flicks her head at him, her slight eyes popping wide open. She searches Miguel’s flat features for an apology, ruffling her fluffy purple bangs away from her eyes. He doesn’t give her one.
“Oh, now you don’t want me? Ever since you’ve started seeing that teashop bitch,” Miguel perked his brow up, “You don’t have time for me. What? Is she that good?”
Tea shop bitch. It’s been over a week of trying to get you to fuck him at multiple intervals. He hasn’t been able to. Not for a lack of trying, but your shy deflection and offers to do things like-- pick an orange off the trees by his building, walk around on a date, or just touch one another. He tried to understand: you weren’t a girl that ran out to date many men. In fact, he’s pretty sure that he is the outlier in your sex life.
“You’re right,” he says. “We should stop fucking.”
“What?”
“You’re too attached,” Miguel stood up, his hands forming tight balls in his pockets. “And I’m just not that interested.”
“When did that change? A month ago? Miguel?”
He doesn’t have time for her stupid possessiveness, her obsession with keeping her slot as his default bitch. Other women told him all about Dana-- how she tended to show up where they were, bumping into them, or the rumors she spread in the department. He jots down the stairs, ignoring her squealing call of his name. The issue with Dana was this: she loved him far too much and he loved her far too little. As with so many of his once-were fuckbuddies, it was better for Miguel to go on his way.
Or, it would have been. He received a concerning message the next day.
I don’t want to see you again.
It’s from your number. Any attempted calls go straight to voicemail. Logically, he should have been able to count it as a loss and move on with any of the other women he had in his life. Illogically, Miguel wants an explanation. If he can’t get one from you, he knows just who will give him one.
Jess already knows what it’s about from the look behind her yellowed sunglasses. Her arms are turned one over the other, clearly having some sort of reservation from this meeting alone. She seems pissed off at him too despite the fact that he has no idea what the fuck he did. He only knows that you’ve virtually disappeared from his life.
“Are you going to tell me?” Miguel asks.
The crispy bagel sits forgotten before him, alongside the coffee that plumes wisps of heat into the air. Jess flicks her eye down to the steam, then back to Miguel.
“I told you to leave that girl alone in the first place.”
“You also set us up. I should know why she left.”
Jess looked off to the wind wisping through the trees, then to everybody that walked on by. There was an undeniable truth to what he said, her involvement was obvious and disconcerting. Whatever had happened, he deserves an explanation. You weren’t going to make this easy to talk to you, but he was intent. So long as he knew the depth of your irritation with him.
“Someone burned Peter. Something about… what was it? Stealing her man?”
He hates that he doesn’t have to ask who.
"Is he hurt?"
"Bad enough," Jess answers. "Y'know how special he is to her."
He's not sure he does.
#spiderman imagines#spiderman imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara/reader#spiderman x reader#atsv imagine#atsv imagines#atsv x reader#atsv x you#atsv x y/n#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you
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The final part to the Wingman Wayne AU is here! (And I also decided to publish the whole thing on ao3!!!)
'You got somethin' you wanna tell me?' asks Wayne when he steps out of the trailer to join Eddie for a smoke, the door creaking behind him.
Eddie still can't believe how that man never fails to be one step ahead of him.
'Um... Can I um...' He clears his throat. He doesn't know why he's being so nervous all of a sudden – it's just Wayne, after all. 'We're having dinner together tomorrow, right?'
'Always on Sunday,' Wayne confirms. His perceptive blue eyes wander over his nephew’s face like he's concerned about something. Then, a strong hand lands on Eddie’s shoulder.
'You know you can tell me anything, right?'
Of course he does. He breathes out, thinks back to that excited look in Wayne’s eyes when he first gave Eddie that number. Wayne’s safe. Always has been, always will be.
'Can I invite my boyfriend?'
His uncle arches an eyebrow, deepening the lines on his forehead. 'Your boyfriend, huh?' he repeats. 'Is he named Chad?'
Eddie bursts into laughter. Of course he would react like that.
'No, he's not,' he answers. 'He's named Steve.'
'Ha! I knew it!'
Eddie only rolls his eyes; of-fucking-course this was going to happen.
'So I take it you wanna tell me you learned to never doubt your old uncle again, huh?’
Eddie snorts. 'Need I remind you that I only met up with him to stop your ridiculous matchmaking?'
'And now that you know how wrong you were ‘bout that one, you wanna apologize to me for bein’ as stubborn as a goddamn mule and beg me to not stop my matchmaking after all?'
'No, I very much still want you to stop that,' Eddie retorts. 'I'm actually planning to keep this one around long enough for you to never have to play matchmaker again. But you know what, Steve has this lesbian friend, I'm sure she'd love to be set up with a cute girl who “looks like a lesbian” to you.'
Wayne doesn't seem to register the sarcasm in Eddie's voice or the teasing twinkle in his eyes; he frowns, looking like he's deep in thought, before his face lights up all of a sudden.
'I met this nice young lady who works for the Gazette, she did some article 'bout the working circumstances at the plant a couple weeks back. Was real polite, actually listened to what we had to say for a change... I'm sure she'd get along just fine with Steve's friend.'
Eddie starts cackling. 'Don't let it get to your head now, old man.' He pauses. 'Or actually, maybe you should. You could become, like, the psychic of the gays. Earn lots of money with it.' Eddie wiggles his eyebrows as he says it.
Wayne merely shakes his head at him, but an almost invisible smile is tugging at his lips. Suddenly, he brusquely pulls Eddie in for a sideways hug.
'I'm happy for ya, Ed. You better keep your Steve around for a while, alright?'
-------
As soon as Steve arrives at the trailer, Eddie launches himself into in his arms and immediately gets himself a taste of the most delicious kind of strawberry known to mankind, because he might as well profit as much as he possibly can from the fact that he can actually do that now.
Steve gapes at him, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyebrows raised in bewilderment. 'Dude. Did you just lick my mouth?'
Eddie shrugs. 'Tastes like a lollipop.'
It isn't until he takes a step back that he properly notices the parts of Steve that aren't his pink lips: he's wearing a dinner jacket and holding a bunch of flowers – which by the looks of it got mildly maimed by Eddie's enthusiastic greeting.
'What the fuck, Stevie.' It slips out before Eddie can help it.
'What?' Steve gives him another confused look.
'I mean, don't get me wrong, you're looking insanely hot right now, but... Why are you dressed like we're about to go to the opera?'
'Meeting the parents for the first time, gotta make a good impression!'
'You already met Wayne,' Eddie blankly points out.
'I didn't meet him as your boyfriend, though.' Your boyfriend. It feels fucking unreal to hear Steve say that. And judging by the way it makes Eddie's stomach all floaty and his mouth unable to stop smiling, it's gonna be very bad for that scary metal image he's been working so hard on crafting for himself.
'He's already, like, your number one fan,' Eddie says. 'You need to fuck up real bad to not make a good impression here.'
An adorably relieved look crosses Steve's face at those words.
Eddie squints at Steve's clothes, from the baby-blue button-down to the neatly polished fancy shoes that already got completely ruined by the muddy trailer park ground.
'Dude, you know where we are, right?' he says. 'Just – take a look around you. Do you think we are the kind of people that care about formal clothing and fucking flowers? We were barely able to fit a third chair around the dinner table, we're literally gonna be eating canned macaroni.'
Steve furrows his brows. 'Are you trying to scare me off?'
'No, I'm just giving you the facts. Because you look like you were expecting cloth napkins and, I dunno, maybe the Queen of England.'
'Not really. Just wanted to do it properly.' He shrugs lightly and suddenly seems smaller, like Eddie is not the only one who sometimes gets overwhelmed by figuring out this whole relationship thing they have going on. 'It's important to me. And honestly, your uncle deserves even more respect than the Queen of England, for getting you into my life, you know.'
And Jesus, if that isn't enough to make Eddie melt into a puddle right on the spot... He hopes Steve doesn't notice how rapidly he's suddenly blinking.
'So, you gonna take these or not?'
Steve holds out the flowers, almost hesitant, like he's half expecting Eddie to refuse them. As if he could ever refuse anything Steve would gift him.
'Why thank you, my darling,' Eddie says with a bow. 'You're actually the first guy who ever brought me flowers.' He lets his fingers linger around Steve's as he takes the bouquet from him.
A soft smile crosses Steve’s face. 'And you're the first guy I ever brought flowers to.' He still doesn’t pull his hands away, but instead leans in closer to give Eddie a peck on his lips. And maybe, just maybe, there's something about the whole thing – the jacket, the flowers, the sweetness – that Eddie could actually get used to.
'You wanna get inside and say hi to my uncle?'
'I'd love to. Can't wait to thank him properly for being the greatest matchmaker on earth.'
'Please don't tell him that,' Eddie says with a chuckle. 'He really doesn't need any more encouragement. I'm pretty sure he's already scheming to set up a queer dating agency or some shit.'
‘You should know by now I can hear everything you're sayin' from here!’ Wayne’s voice yells from inside the trailer.
Steve grins as Eddie grabs his hand tighter to lead him inside.
‘It wouldn't hurt you to show him some more support in following his dreams, you know,’ he mumbles to Eddie under his breath.
‘Jesus H. Christ, I can’t believe you’re already teaming up with him to bully me before you even met him!’
He should probably be mad about it, but Steve squeezes his hand and gives him such a precious smile that the only thing he can do is smile back at him.
Holy shit creating this silly little AU has honestly been such a wild ride thanks to all your reactions to it, i can’t say enough how happy all those notifications have made me and I still can’t believe there were SO MANY OF YOU who asked to follow along!!<3333
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#100% back on my bullshit for this last one#(the bullshit being a fuckton of fluff)#also i needed eddie being a lil weirdo and steve reacting to that with the exact face he made upon seeing the jazzercise instructor dude#for my own sanity#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#wayne munson#fruity ficlet
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❧ word count: 25.5k
❧ warnings: cursing, neck/shoulder biting and marking if you’re squeamish about that, talking about like werewolf scenting and stuff, blood, brief kissing with blood on/around mouths, this is a werewolf fic either you’re into this stuff or you’re not lol
❧ genre: fluff, so incredibly fluffy and sweet it should’ve been a warning honestly, established relationship, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro, werewolf jeno & various magical neos, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to changer
❧ extra info: this is a sequel to changer! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read changer first!
this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from changer to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!)
❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel (fourqual?) to my werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself (after changer, ofc), and if you were able to survive changer, then you deserve a medal. and this is that medal, i suppose!
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!
The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Sung.” You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend, holding him close with no hesitation, even as his own arms were much slower to react. But once they did, he pulled you to him with a nearly crushing force, a strength that could all but make you forget that he was only half-werewolf.
Tonight, he’d let you stay with him for one of his shifts. It was exactly because he was half-werewolf that he’d even considered it in the first place, his shifts were much less intense than full werewolves, generally less violent and possibly dangerous for anybody who happened to be around him. He’d described it to you after the last full moon, that it was more just sort of painful, confusing, and sometimes sort of like when drunk-you left problems for sober-you, like drunk-dialing people or spending too much money online. Except in his case, werewolf-him generally destroyed smaller pieces of property like school notes or clothes. When he said that he always asked Shotaro to leave the night of the full moon, you asked if you could be with him the next time. It sounded terrible to have to do that alone every month. And to your surprise, he’d only responded with a weak ‘please?’
So when you’d arrived this afternoon, you’d taken everything out of his room that you feasibly could that he didn’t want to chew up: his bookbag, textbooks, nice sneakers, photo albums, laptop, etc. And then you’d locked the door, and stayed with him.
Now he was coming out of it—a glance at his bedside clock that had been knocked out of place but was otherwise fine told you that it was almost three in the morning. You cradled the back of his fully-human-again head, not minding the matted, damp hair.
“I’m right here,” you reminded him. “I didn’t go anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”
You felt him shudder as he let out what sounded like a whine of pain. It made you worried about him staying up on his own two feet. “Sung? Do you need to lay down?”
He didn’t answer, and you realized he might not be back at the point where he could speak yet. Before you could finish weighing your options of attempting to drag the 186cm still partially-shifted half-werewolf to his bed by yourself, he’d buried his face in your neck, opened his mouth, and was resting his set of sharp canines against the curve of where your neck met your shoulder.
You breathed in through your nose, hand still on his head as he just… waited. For what, you couldn’t say. He was still whining softly, though now there was a slight undertone of need cutting through the pain you’d heard earlier.
Your hand was still resting on his head, and you gently pulled him closer, feeling the dull pressure of his teeth against your skin. “It’s okay, Sung. Whatever you need. I trust you.”
Finally, he closed his jaw. But it wasn’t a bite at all, it was more like a toddler teething on something cold to soothe their aching gums while their new teeth grew in. It didn’t hurt; he certainly wasn’t breaking skin, and you doubted that any marks would be left. The worst damage would be slobber, you were sure. If anything, it just… tickled. Suppressing a giggle at the feeling, you stroked his hair affectionately.
“There you go, Sung. There you go…” You murmured quietly. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re okay, baby…”
“Bite…” He finally let out a grunt that sounded akin to a real word.
“What? What was that?” You tried to pull your head back to be able to look him in the face, but he didn’t want to detach from you in the slightest, his whines becoming less pained and more pathetic. Giving up on the task, you shook your head just a little, “Never mind, sorry. But what were you saying, Sung? Something about biting? You didn’t chew anything up this time, actually. We kept you in check pretty well. Your wallet will thank us, I’m sure.”
Sungchan continued to mouth at your neck a couple more times before he gave another full body shudder and tremble, then fell to his knees. As wrapped up in each other as you were, you went down with him, your kneecaps only saved by the fact that he had a nice plush rug. Your forehead wasn’t so lucky, as it got cracked against his on the way down, and you bit your tongue as a result.
“Shit!” You hissed, but couldn’t even focus on your own pain for very long, because Sungchan was now leaning most of his weight forward onto you. You quickly readjusted hold him up by the underarms. “Woah, woah. You alright, Sung?”
“I… bite…” He groaned again.
“You bite your tongue too?” You guessed humorously, scooting to sit on the floor against his bed and ushering him to lay down with his head in your lap. Ideally, you’d be in the bed, not on the floor next to it, but this was close enough.
Sungchan curled up in your lap as if he’d forgotten how big he was, fitting as much of the top half of his body there as he could. It was as he turned over slightly onto his side that you finally got a good look at his face again and saw just how exhausted he looked. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, and his skin was warm, flushed, and drenched with sweat. You gently brushed the damp bangs away from his forehead with one hand, reaching your other up towards his nightstand. After fumbling around in the top drawer for a ridiculous amount of time considering you’d put it literally right on top, you finally grabbed the lunchbox filled with cold, damp washcloths and ice packs that you’d stored in there earlier.
Unzipping it, the ice packs were all melted, but the washcloths were still nice and cool, which was what you really needed. Taking the first one, you blotted it along Sungchan’s forehead, cheeks, and neck, following it up with fleeting touches of your hand to assess if it was really helping or not. Judging by the small, soft, not painful sigh he let out, it at least didn’t seem to be hurting.
“Y/N…” He panted, grabbing your wrist as you were pressing the washcloth to his cheek.
“Yep, I’m right here, Sung,” you reassured him, putting your other hand over his. “I’m right here, okay?”
“I…”
“Do you need something, baby? Water? Food?
“I want…”
You dropped the washcloth from his face to listen attentively. “Yeah, Sung?”
His eyes finally opened, letting you see that his irises were still the same glowing, burning amber as earlier in the night. Not quite out of his shift yet. He sat up until he was nearly level with your neck, breathing in deeply. His grip on your wrist tightened, then he all but collapsed back onto your lap again, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Mm… I should… We should… I wan’ to…” He was slurring his words like he was drunk, chest heaving with every breath, and his grip on your wrist relaxed until he was loosely holding your hand, pulling it down to cradle your forearm to his chest like it was a stuffed animal. “Wan’… give you my mating bite… Y/N…”
You stared down at Sungchan with wide, dumbstruck eyes. As he slowly blinked, you could see that his eyes were still that same bright gold. He just shifted further up to try to fit more of himself in your lap, though, pressing his head against your stomach and wedging his shoulder in the gap left by your criss-crossed legs.
Even as you were so shocked, you curled up and readjusted to mold your body around him, one hand giving his head a soft, reassuring pat as the other rubbed up and down his arm, soothing over the surely tired muscles.
“You…” You trailed off in your attempt to get clarification, unable to even begin to try to rephrase it yourself. In packs, mated werewolf couples bit each other in elaborate rituals. Neither of you were any of those things. Could Sungchan even give a werewolf mating bite, as a half-werewolf? Could you receive one? You definitely couldn’t give him one back. Wouldn’t he want one back? Or maybe not? Not to mention he wasn’t in a pack and had never been in his life. What did a mating bite mean to him?
God, your head hurt, and you weren’t even the one who had gone through a werewolf shift tonight.
Sungchan took another deep breath, and long, slow blink, his eyes almost back to their normal brown color. “‘Cause I… I love you. I wan’ to… ‘cause I love you… my… Y/N.”
His eyes fluttered shut, and you heard his breathing even out as he finally fell asleep in just a few moments.
It didn’t seem like you’d get the answer to any of those questions tonight. And as much as the idea of going any longer without knowing made your stomach twist into painful, uncomfortable knots, Sungchan needed the rest. He wasn’t in the right state for any sort of conversation like that. There wouldn’t be any way he’d be able to answer your questions even if you could force yourself to ask them.
Taking a deep breath, you leaned over to gently peck his hair. “Your Y/N loves you too, Sung…”
Your back ached. You had a crick in your neck. And another one in your back. And another one in another part of your back. And yet another one in one more part of your back. You groaned, rolling over in bed to try to crack some of the kinks out without having to actually get up.
That gave you pause. There was definitely a mattress underneath you, blankets covering you, and a pillow supporting your head. But you remembered falling asleep on the floor next to Sungchan’s bed after his shift last night.
Squinting one eye open suspiciously, you saw that it was still very dark in his room, but you had without a doubt been mysteriously tucked into his bed. Much too tired to investigate past that, you pulled the blankets up over your head and buried your face in your pillow, very quickly falling back asleep.
When you woke up again, it was brighter outside, and at first you thought Sungchan had put a weighted blanket on you in the middle of the night. Odd choice, considering you didn’t have one on you the first time you woke up, or at least that you could remember. And then you realized that Sungchan was your weighted blanket.
Your boyfriend was fully snuggled up on top of your back, completely passed out, as you were dozing on your front. You couldn’t even roll him over, he was dead weight. With a sigh, you closed your eyes again, wondering if you’d be able to go back to sleep for a second—third?—time this morning.
“You up?” He mumbled in your ear, voice barely above a hoarse grumble.
“You’re awake?” You asked in disbelief.
“Yeah?”
“So you’re suffocating me on purpose?”
He rolled off onto the mattress next to you, and immediately your lungs could work better. “Oh, so when you do it to me, it’s cute and I’m supposed to enjoy it, but when I do it, it’s attempted murder and ‘Ouch, Sungchan, get off of me, you’re crushing me with your big, huge werewolf muscles.’”
“So I don’t need to ask if you’re feeling better,” you scoffed, but nevertheless shifted onto your side to face him.
He wasn’t pink-faced and sweaty anymore, instead looking unnaturally pale, with dark circles under his eyes like he’d pulled two all-nighters in a row for finals week. You cupped his cheek, gently running your thumb under one of his eyes. His skin wasn’t warm to the touch, instead it felt the same temperature as yours—cold for a werewolf or half-werewolf.
“You’ve got a chill, Sung,” you observed with a frown, taking your hand back as you prepared to get up.
“It’s normal, baby,” he reassured you, grabbing your arm to keep you from leaving. “Just uh… returning to homeostasis or whatever. I’ll be okay.”
“Alright… if you say so…” you sighed, staying put and pressing a kiss to his forehead, sneakily taking note of his temperature that way instead. “You can at least eat, right? Breakfast sound good?”
“Sure. In a minute.”
“You stay here, I’ll go make you something. Breakfast in bed. What’s better than that?”
He pretended to deliberate on this, then grabbed you with two arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “This.”
Tucked under his chin, you couldn’t look up to read his face, instead just staring at his t-shirt. “Really? You’re not hungry?”
“A little. But I won’t die if I don’t eat right now.”
“Are you implying that you’ll die if we don’t cuddle right now?”
“Yes,” he replied dramatically. “Absolutely. I’ll simply perish if I don’t get my Y/N time this instant.”
You couldn’t help but snicker at that, finally giving in. Not forgetting about his drop in temperature, you made sure to pull the blankets up around you two before you fully snuggled in, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into his chest.
“Alright, alright. Slow your roll on your imminent decay. I’m right here, Sung. Like I said last night, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You did say that, didn’t you?” He mused, tangling your legs together.
“Yeah, I did.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously. “Uhm… How much do you remember about your shifts?”
“While I’m fully shifted? Not a lot usually. Immediately before and after? Depends. Why? Did I do something?”
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you remembered the feeling of his teeth on your neck, of him asking to bite you, to give you his mating bite. Did he remember that? Sungchan wasn’t bringing it up… Surely he’d mention it again now if he remembered, or was serious about it.
“Well, afterwards… you were kind of saying some stuff. I just didn’t know if you—”
“Hey… look at me?” Sungchan requested as he leaned back from you. When you’d picked up your head to oblige, he looked you in the eye with no hesitation, his face entirely serious now. “Of course I meant it when I said I love you. I’m sorry I said it to you for the first time looking like a hot fucking mess, and again now not in much better shape, but I mean it all the same. I love you, my Y/N. So much. So goddamn much I feel like I could explode if I don’t tell you every 5 seconds. Except you might get kind of tired of me if I did that.”
Despite it not being the words you were expecting to hear, you were beaming from ear to ear, even managing out a choked laugh through the happy tears suddenly welling up in your eyes.
“Woah, hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry with how bad my confession was,” he joked, wiping at the first tear as it slipped down your cheek.
“Oh shut it!” You chastised him. “What have I told you about being a sweetheart?”
“Own up to it or don’t do it at all,” he recited dutifully. “I’m sorry, baby. I love you, so fucking much and I’m going to explode if you don’t say it back maybe? But no pressure? Also, I love you. And no pressure to say it back right now.”
“Oh my god, Sung, I love you too,” you laughed, grabbing his face in both of your hands to pull his mouth to yours. “So fucking much.”
Dr. and Mr. Jung lived in a two-story townhouse just a couple blocks over from campus. The old bricks on the face of it were a warm red, and as you got closer, you saw that there were shimmery flecks mixed into the rogue.
“How old are these buildings?” You asked Sungchan, reaching out to touch one of the bricks around the entryway. “There’s dragon scales in the brick.”
“There’s what?” Sungchan’s eyes widened, and you pointed to a particularly large chunk, about the size of the head of a thumbtack. It reflected amber in the setting sun.
“Dragon scales. They used to be incorporated into building materials to make them more durable. You know, before integration. There’s been really big debates at like, every open-door City Hall meeting about if we should keep buildings up that have dragon scale brick in them or not, since so many dragons had to be killed to make them.”
“Oh my god.”
“So far it looks like they’re going to move towards tearing down abandoned buildings made of dragon scale brick at least.”
“How-How many dragons? Were killed?”
“We have no way to know. And the thing is, you can gather dragon scales without hurting a dragon, it’s just not going to be enough to make dragon scale brick of any usable quantity.”
“So it should’ve never been made.”
“No. It shouldn’t have.” You turned away from the wall with a shake of your head. “Anyway, that’s why I was asking how old these homes are. They’re by the university, so pretty old, I guess.”
“I have no clue. You’d have to ask my parents.” Sungchan ushered you towards the door with a hand on the small of your back.
“I don’t think I will. Not incredible meet-the-parents dinner conversation, really.”
“As much I want to say they’ll love you anyway, which they would, I do have to agree with you. Maybe save the existential horror of the materials of their home for the second dinner.” He kissed the top of your head.
“Will do.” You nodded. “Now, are you going to knock on the door, or are we going to keep standing out here like we’re casing the place?”
“Oh, sorry, you can’t hear that. My mom’s—”
And then the sound of the front door unlocking came, and you looked up at Sungchan questioningly. It was opened by a face familiar to you only from pictures.
Dr. Jung was already beaming at you. “Hello! Oh, I’m sorry if I startled you, Y/N. I was grading in my office and could hear you two coming up the steps, got a bit excited.” She gestured to the window next to the brick that you’d been discussing.
Dr. Jung was an economics professor at your university, though you’d never taken a class from her personally.
“I was about to give you a heads up,” Sungchan patted you on the back. “I heard her footsteps, that’s—”
“—why you weren’t knocking. Of course.” You nodded, then turned your focus back to Sungchan’s mother. “It’s lovely to meet you, Dr. Jung.”
“You too, Y/N.” She was still smiling ear-to-ear as she reached forward to take your hands. “You’ll have to tell me more about the history of these dragon scale bricks, I truly had no idea.”
You looked at Sungchan in alarm, and he just shrugged. But she was already leading you into the house by your hand, your boyfriend trailing behind.
“Mom, I don’t even get a hug? No hello for your own son?” Sungchan complained dramatically, closing the door behind you three.
“Well since you’re going to be a big baby about it.” A man’s voice suddenly joined in as you had emerged from the front hallway into the living room. You turned around towards the stairs to see Sungchan’s dad standing on the bottom step, still not eye level with his son even with the added height. He wrapped his arms around Sungchan with an affectionate fake growl, and your boyfriend eagerly hugged his dad back.
Mr. Jung was a middle school science teacher, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was where Sungchan got his love for science from. He never said it specifically, but he’d told you plenty of stories of doing home science experiments with his dad as a kid.
“Hey, Dad.” He was grinning so brightly as he pulled away, then eagerly gestured to you. “Dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my dad.”
“Jung Yoonseo, how are you?” The other human greeted you. But your gaze got stuck on the dip of Mr. Jung’s shoulder, where his neck met shoulder, and two-thirds of a dark bite mark were visible above the collar of his shirt.
You tore your eyes away from the mating bite to look up at his face, smiling again. “I’m good, Mr. Jung, thank you. How are you?”
“I’m very well.” He nodded to you, starting towards the connected kitchen.
“Oh, honey, Y/N was just telling me that apparently our home is made of dragon scale brick,” Dr. Jung pulled you into the kitchen as well.
Mr. Jung turned around from where he’d started peeling a vegetable to look at his wife curiously. “Sorry, you said dragon scales, Jieun?”
“Yes! Go on, Y/N. I didn’t catch much of what you were telling Sungchan, I came to get you all as soon as I heard that you’d arrived.”
You looked to Sungchan imploringly, but he just shrugged again, then mouthed something that looked like ‘go for it’ to you. So you inhaled, and went for it.
“Dr. and Mr. Jung, do you two know how old your house is?”
“I think that went pretty well,” Sungchan declared as the two of you walked down the sidewalks hand-in-hand later that evening. He had a bag filled with containers of leftovers in his other hand.
“Glad you think so. I felt like Renjun, giving people impromptu lectures at the most out-of-pocket times,” you scoffed.
“Yeah, and they loved it. My parents are big nerds like you.”
“You’re literally a STEM major.”
“Point taken.”
“So your dad wasn’t just being nice when he invited me over for tea, then?”
Your boyfriend looked down at you with wide eyes. “When did he do that?”
“When you and your mom were packing up the leftovers and he was showing me the backyard. I forgot how it came up, but I’d mentioned the boba shop, and he said if I liked tea, then I was welcome to come over for a cup anytime. Since he’s still on summer break and everything.”
Despite the smile that had creeped across his face as you spoke, you furrowed your brow suspiciously.
“What? What are you smiling for?”
He surprised you by smooching your temple loudly. “I was wrong. It didn’t go pretty well. It went great.”
“Being invited over for tea is a good sign?” You asked cautiously.
“Definitely.” He stopped the two of you on the deserted sidewalk, letting go of your hand just to immediately seize your waist, pulling you towards him. The surprised noise you were about to make got muffled by Sungchan sealing his lips over yours. You curled a hand around the back of his neck as the other gripped onto his forearm for some kind of stability as he kissed you breathless.
As he pulled back to look down at you with that same big, tender grin, you couldn’t help but let out an airy giggle.
“And what was that for?”
“I love you. And do I need a reason to kiss my amazing, beautiful girlfriend?” He punctuated each of the last three words with more kisses to your cheek this time, making you giggle again.
“Like that, in the middle of the street? Yes.” You pinched his side teasingly, earning a laugh as he squirmed away from your touch. You made sure to tack on an, “I love you too, Sung.”
“We’re not in the street, we’re on the sidewalk.”
Before you could give your retort, he’d caught your lips in another sweet kiss, and all banter was gone from your mind.
“Are you staying at my place?” Sungchan asked when you’d finally restarted your journey.
“Let’s do my place tonight, hm?” You suggested, squeezing his hand.
He tilted his head, an adorable, confused pout on his face. “Why?”
“Because I don’t have some poor roommate that we’ll be annoying.”
“Says the girl who used to specifically ask if Shotaro was going to be home before she’d agree to come over,” he snickered.
“I did that because I had a huge crush on you and you’d friendzoned me, you ass.” You elbowed him in the side teasingly. “Having Taro there made it easier to ignore the aching hole in my chest whenever I looked at you, you dick.”
You landed a gentle mock punch that was in actuality a light tap to his chest, but Sungchan was no longer laughing. He looked down at you, pensive sadness on his features.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to articulate how much I regret putting you through that. You didn’t deserve to ever feel… an aching hole, because of me.”
“Ah, Sung.” You hugged his arm to your chest, resting your head against his shoulder as you walked. “I know you would’ve never done that to me on purpose. But if we can’t laugh about it—about the uh, admittedly kind of funny scenario we put ourselves in before we started dating—then we’ll never be able to really move past it. We’re together now, and that’s what really matters.”
He sighed. “I agree. I just… I don’t think I’m past the feeling bad part yet.”
“That’s okay.” You squeezed his upper arm reassuringly. “Just don’t beat yourself up on my account. Alright?”
“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the small smile in his voice.
“So, my place?”
“I just remembered that my mom put in some leftovers for Shotaro. Kelp rolls.”
“We should probably take that to him, huh?”
“Yeah…”
“Hopefully that’ll be enough to counteract us existing around him.”
Shotaro was enthused to receive his kelp rolls, not even commenting on you staying the night as he excitedly took his food into his room.
“You want something to eat?” Sungchan asked as he put the rest of the leftovers in the fridge.
“No. I ate plenty at your parents’ house.” You shook your head. Stretching and yawning, you started towards the hallway with their bedrooms. “You make your little post-dinner snack. Feed your half-werewolf metabolism. I’m going to get ready for bed.”
“Feel free to take a sweatshirt or something.”
“Way ahead of you.”
Your boyfriend found you a few minutes later already curled up in his bed, bundled up in just one of his oversized hoodies. He scooted in next to you, encouraging you to move your head from the pillow to his lap as you went to snuggle up to his side instead.
“Whatcha eating, Sung?” You mumbled, mouth splitting into another yawn. All you could tell was that he had a bowl of some kind of finger food, as he’d brought no utensil in with him.
“Some fruit. Strawberries, honeydew, blueberries… Oh, you want a grape?”
“I’m still not entirely convinced that you’re not trying to fatten me up to eat, you know?” You said teasingly. “Like some mix of the witch from Hansel and Gretel and the big bad wolf from Little Red Riding Hood…”
“Banana slice?”
But you knew it was just his instinct to feed you, so you always indulged him to a certain extent—not so much that you felt like you were going to burst, but enough to calm his need to know that you were well-fed.
“Mm, grape.” You opened your mouth like a baby bird. He deposited the fruit on your tongue, but due to how you were laying, it landed more-so on the inside of your cheek. You had to sit up and prop yourself up on an elbow to chew and swallow properly without choking, but then promptly laid back down, nuzzling your face into his thigh.
Just a few seconds later, he asked you through a full mouth, “Baby? You want another?”
“I’m good, Sung, thank you,” you replied sweetly. “Your dad’s a really good cook, I ate a lot at dinner.”
“Yeah, he is,” he agreed proudly.
“Now finish your food so you can cuddle me to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And less than ten minutes later, you were laid on your side, pulled flush to Sungchan’s front, your back to his chest and your legs tangled together. You had one of his arms ensnared, fingers laced loosely with his as you wrapped the limb tighter around you. His face was buried in your neck, planting absentminded kisses to your skin as you were gently floating between waking and sleep.
“I used to think you liked him, for a little bit, you know,” Sungchan murmured next to your ear, clearly a sudden blurting from his own train of thought that you weren’t privy to.
Oh, this sounded like a conversation. You squinted your eyes open blearily, turning over in his arms to face him. Throwing a leg over his to pull him closer, you offered him a sleepy smile and asked, “Who?”
He readjusted to keep holding you like that, one hand resting where the bottom of the hoodie had ridden up around your hip, settling on your thigh. His thumb and forefinger messed with the hem of the sweater, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down in the dim light as he swallowed.
“Shotaro. Since you’d always ask if he was going to be at the apartment. But your heartrate never went up around him.”
You hummed in amusement, reaching out to gently pinch the tip of his nose. “Endearing that you were listening to my heartbeat to figure out if I liked your roommate.”
“But it did… go up around me sometimes. I knew that,” he confessed, his eyes locking on yours, desperate. Like he was searching, asking you for something. Absolution, penance, maybe. “And it made me happy. Even though I had told myself that I shouldn’t have you. It still… made me happy at first, but then it’d make me sad. That you hadn’t moved on. Because I thought you’d deserved to move on.”
But he’d done no sin that you needed to cleanse him of in your eyes. He was a guy who made a few mistakes and then finally made the right choice. After you smacked him upside the head with it, but nobody was perfect. The person who really needed to forgive him was himself. He was still stuck in the past, seemingly afraid that he could lose you at any moment. But he wasn’t going to, and you wished he would just believe that.
“But you got me now,” you promised, cradling his face and wishing he could feel just how much you really meant those words.
“I do.” He brought his hand up to cover your own, and you felt like you could cry. “I do got you now.”
“And I’ve got you.”
“You’ve always had me. I just hadn’t told you yet. But you’ve always had me,” Sungchan admitted with a bittersweet smile, curling his hand around yours.
You surged forward to close the minute gap between the two of you, kissing him so hard that your lips hurt. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands grabbed at his shoulders, his clothes, anything to pull him closer to you. He was hugging you tight to him, thank god, because it felt like you could never be close enough. Your bones ached with a need to break the laws of physics and exist in the same time and space as him, and a tiny part of you believed that if you just wanted it enough, if you tried hard enough, maybe you could.
“You know, I thought all I’d feel was relief when you and Sungchan finally got together, but instead I’m plagued by near constant nausea.”
You stopped in your tracks in the hallway. You’d been trying to quietly pee then hurry back into Sungchan’s room the next morning, but instead, you spun around to face Shotaro, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
He was standing in front of his door at the opposite end of the hall, arms crossed over his chest.
“Maybe go see a witch about that. It sounds serious,” you wrinkled your nose teasingly. Thankfully you’d had the wherewithal to pull on a pair of sleep shorts you had stashed in Sungchan’s drawers before leaving his room that morning.
“Yeah, that and my recently developed insomnia, too,” he scoffed. “Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep, you know.”
Your skin burned as you started shuffling backwards towards Sungchan’s room. “Sorry! Bye!”
You slammed the door behind you, startling Sungchan awake.
“Huh?” He blinked sleepily, lifting his head to look around.
You launched yourself back into bed, burying your face in the pillow in shame.
“Woah, Y/N, you okay?” Sungchan’s voice was thick and deep this early in the morning, but you couldn’t even focus on that. He rubbed your back soothingly as you shook your head.
You turned your head just enough to clear your mouth to speak. “We should’ve gone to my place... No roommate...”
“Oh, Shotaro giving you a hard time?”
“‘Three in the morning, Y/N. Some people like to sleep.’” You did your best Shotaro impression. “I don’t think it was enough kelp rolls.”
“Ah, I’m-I’m sorry, baby.” Sungchan kept rubbing your back, but you could hear that he was holding back laughter.
You rolled onto your back, shooting him a glare before staring up at the ceiling. “Why do I always let you talk me into staying at your place?”
“Because you love me,” he replied in a sing-song voice, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheekbone, near your hairline.
“Yeah, but I mean, why do we always end up at your apartment, Sung? Why do you never want to come over to mine?”
The teasing dropped from his tone as he straightened up slightly. “It’s not like that, Y/N. I like spending time with you, no matter where we are. We could be in the cold vacuum of space, and I’d be fine with it as long as we were hanging out. And, in space suits so we didn’t die, you know. But, it’s just... I don’t know, I like having you here. In my space. It feels like everything’s right in the universe, like I know everything will be okay, that you’re going to be okay. As stupid as that sounds—”
“No, Sung, it’s not stupid.” You shifted to face him, brushing some hair back from his face. The same anxiety that you’d seen the night before was painted across his features again, and you didn’t like that you were seeing it more and more often. His sentiments weren’t stupid, they were loving, but the root of them concerned you. Was he constantly plagued by worries of something bad happening to you?
“Not at all...” You reiterated softly, running your thumb over the crease between his brows. “Sung? Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“I know you have class today but… can I stay here? While you’re on campus? Then we can do something together when you get back. We can go downtown or something.”
You could feel his face relax again under your touch, and he nodded with a smile.
“Yeah, of course. If you think you can handle being around Shotaro for that long. He’s off work today.”
“I’ll manage, somehow.”
When it was finally time for Sungchan to go to class, though, you encountered an issue.
“Sung, you need to go to class,” you sighed, nudging him from where he had his arms wrapped around you. You’d been lounging on the couch when it struck time for him to finally depart for campus, but you were now dealing with a clingy werewolf.
“The professor doesn’t count attendance for a grade,” he grumbled. “I can skip.”
“You literally said this morning that you had a quiz today.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did, you liar,” you scoffed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “And you need to go take that quiz.”
Shotaro, meanwhile, was observing the entire thing from the threshold between the living room and the hallway, a fascinating mixture of equal parts disgust and amusement on his features. You looked at him pleadingly for any kind of assistance, and he rolled his eyes, but nevertheless helped you anyway.
“Sungchan, dude, seriously,” Shotaro sighed, his tone on the border of exasperation and understanding. “Y/N’s wearing your clothes, staying in our apartment, and you haven’t let her go for I think the past four hours straight, not even to pee. You’ve scented her up enough to last the next month, a few hours will be fine.”
Your jaw set as there was a sudden spark of recognition in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t follow that train of thought in the moment. Sungchan loosened his grip on you, sitting up and blinking as if woken from a trance. “R-Right. Sorry, Y/N.”
“It’s okay, Sung,” you smiled, standing up and yanking him to his feet as well. You practically dragged him towards the front door, shoving his backpack in his hands. “Now go, you’re going to be late.”
He looked down at you with a small, fond smile as well, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “Bye, love you.”
“I love you too.” You got up on your tiptoes to give him a fleeting kiss goodbye, and he wrapped an arm around you for a hug. You were worried that this was about to be another borderline hostage situation, but he took one more inhale near your neck, then let you go and straightened up.
“Okay. See you in a few.” He said, his hand on the door handle.
“Go, Sungchan.”
“Fine, fine. Bye.”
And with that, he was finally gone. You turned back around to Shotaro, letting out a sigh of relief. The siren just chuckled, shaking his head.
“Werewolves, dude.” He flopped onto the opposite side of the couch from where you and Sungchan had just been.
You sat back down, kicking your feet up and pulling out your phone. “Yeah. Werewolves...”
Shotaro started flicking through a streaming service to try to find something to watch. “Hey wait, shouldn’t he be scenting you less since he’s a half-werewolf?”
“I... don’t know,” you admitted. “There’s not really any sort of research on half-werewolves. We don’t know anything about what they ‘should’ be like. Not even one of those unethical case studies from the 1800s.”
“Huh. But like I was saying earlier, you two make me nauseous.”
“Just put on your trashy reality TV that we know you’re going to pick after scrolling around for 30 minutes.”
“The browsing is part of the experience.”
As Shotaro browsed on the TV then eventually picked a show, you searched on your phone. The Real Sirens of Diamond Bay was great background noise as you dug through the internet, and you barely even realized the time until your friend was calling for your attention from the kitchen.
“Hm?” You looked up from the forum post that you’d been reading.
“I asked if you wanted lunch.” He opened the fridge, taking out the containers of leftovers you and your boyfriend had brought home last night. “Or if only Sungchan could feed you.”
“Yeah, sure, I could eat.” You joined him in the kitchen, stretching out your back. “So you noticed that too, huh?”
“Oh, the pre-mating behaviors? Well, you did give me a very convenient list when you were still in your denial phase.”
You punched his arm, making him nearly drop the plates he’d just gotten from the cabinet.
“Ow!” He rubbed the spot with a pout, handing you one of the dishes. “Rude... I’m feeding you food from my fridge.”
“No, I’m letting you eat my leftovers,” you corrected him. “Dr. Jung made us take all the steamed buns because she knew they were my favorite.”
Shotaro had been loading said steamed buns up onto his plate, then started shoveling the rest of them onto yours. “Calm down, I wasn’t taking them all.”
You looked at the empty container with a sigh, putting half of yours back. “Well, we can’t just leave nothing for Sung.”
After you’d made your plates with minimal bickering and warmed them up, you took them to the small dining table in the corner of the living room to eat. Shotaro continued playing the episode he’d been on for ambiance as he engaged you in conversation.
“So what were you so invested in on your phone?” He asked, cracking open a seaweed-infused sparkling tea drink popular with younger sirens. “You usually love Real Sirens.”
You popped the tab on your soda, taking a sip before answering. “I was doing some research, on what we were talking about earlier—”
“I thought you said there wasn’t a lot of research on half-werewolves.”
“Not a lot of scholarly research. But I found some people posting online about their own experiences either as half-werewolves themselves, or dating half-werewolves. About the scenting.” You explained, pausing to take a bite of your food. “And it seems like the general consensus is that most likely because their sense of smell isn’t as great as full werewolves, but they still can smell that kind of stuff, unlike humans, half-werewolves get a little more… intense with scenting behaviors.”
“Gross.”
“I meant the clothes and the hugging, dude.” You soft-balled a kick at his shin under the table. “Not my fault you’re immediately gross.”
“Does it ever stop?”
You grimaced, “Well…”
“No?” Shotaro asked with wide eyes, presumably having the rest of his recently renewed lease flashing before them.
“Again, there aren’t a lot of half-werewolves. Or at least ones talking about it. But there is one half-werewolf/human couple I found who says that the scenting took better, and the behaviors therefore decreased after…” You trailed off, messing with the strings of Sungchan’s hoodie.
“After…?”
“After they followed through with the werewolf mating bite.”
The siren stared at you blankly. “Oh.”
“They’re the only ones I could find online who has done that, so who knows if that’s a guaranteed result, not to mention that at that point they were also human married, and had been together for over five years, so there was definitely just a lot of security in their relationship not to mention they’d been living together for years so they were going to smell like each other anyway—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Shotaro stopped your defensive rambles gently. “You two don’t need to do that for me. Just wear his clothes and be annoying, it’s fine.”
You stabbed your fork into a bun. “Yeah, I know that.”
“That was some weird stressing of your words there, Y/N. Anything you want to share?”
You let out a long, steady breath, your lips just a centimeter away from being pressed together. Your mind was swirling with the memory of Sungchan’s last shift. Of him asking you to take his bite. He hadn’t mentioned it again since, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially because he hadn’t brought it up again since. And seeing his dad’s last night…
“Sungchan mentioned it once, but I don’t know how serious he was being, and he hasn’t brought it up again,” you admitted before tearing into the bun you’d just assaulted. It was filled with delightfully seasoned veggies wrapped in smooth, pillowy dough. God, these really were some of the best steamed buns you’d ever had.
Shotaro practically did a spit take with his tea, dribbling the sip he’d just taken back into the bottle. “He what? When?”
“Shotaro—”
“No, he brought up essentially werewolf engagement to you— What? While you two were playing video games or something? And neither of you mentioned this to me?”
“It wasn’t like that but... sure. I guess.”
“No, no, what was the context? Post-nut confessions or something?”
“God! Why are you like this?” You groaned, dragging a hand over your face in exasperation. “No, he let me be with him for his last shift, it was when he was coming out of it. He wasn’t all there, he was tired, he had all the extra adrenaline and everything else going through his body still.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “So I was right.”
You gave him an unamused look. “Think more like a boxer with a concussion.”
“And you haven’t brought it up with him since?”
“I was just focused on making sure he was okay. And now, I don’t know, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Maybe he wasn’t serious about it?”
“If he was... would you say yes? To be werewolf married?” The siren waggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Or half-werewolf married? Half-werewolf half-married?”
“They really need to make like even a single MCS class mandatory in the Gen Ed requirements, because what the hell are you saying to me right now?”
“You know what I mean. Would you say yes?”
“I… need to talk to some other people, I think.” You turned your eyes downwards as you tried to really think about it.
“That wasn’t a no! Hell yeah! I’m so going to be Sungchan’s best man!”
You rolled your eyes. “You have no clue what you’re talking about.”
As you finished up your lunch, your mind wouldn’t stop turning over what Shotaro had said. If Sungchan had been serious, would you say yes? You knew from class what the bite meant to werewolves within packs, but did it mean the same thing to Sungchan since he was half-werewolf? Did that even make a difference? Not to mention that you weren’t any part werewolf, the exchanging of bites was supposed to be an entire ritual similar to a couple exchanging rings on their wedding day. You couldn’t exactly bite him back. And the couple online was already legally married anyway…
Well, you did know one other werewolf/human couple that you could talk to, at least. You quickly texted Jeno.
[you: hey, are you home right now?]
Miraculously, he texted back almost immediately.
[jeno: yeah, just got back from a run]
[jeno: why?]
[you: mind if i come over really quick? need some advice on something with sung]
[jeno: oh sure]
[jeno: everything okay? should i have tissues out…?]
[you: omg no like werewolf stuff]
[jeno: oh good]
[you: thanks though. be over in a few]
Standing up from the couch, you stood off to the side of the TV so you didn’t block Shotaro’s show as you announced, “I’ll be right back.”
The siren gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement as his focus remained on the screen. You nodded before hurrying to pull your shoes on. The last thing to do before leaving was shoot off a text to Sungchan.
[you: hey sung, i’ve got a quick errand to run. i should be back before you get home from class, but just in case i’m not, i’ll be coming right back to the apartment! love you!]
“Hey, Jeno, thanks for having me over on such short notice.” You offered your friend a nervous smile as you stepped into his apartment.
“I’m not your professor that you’re seeing outside of his office hours, Y/N,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind you. “Don’t worry about it. What’s up? You said it’s something about Sungchan?”
“Is your girlfriend here?” You looked around the living room as the two of you sat down.
Jeno tilted his head curiously. “No, she’s at the bakery this afternoon. Did you need her too?”
“Not necessarily, it’s just...” You dropped your head into your hands, frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Try to start at the beginning?”
“Right. Sung let me be with him on the last full moon.”
“Wow. I haven’t even done that.” Jeno sounded genuinely impressed.
“Well… Uhm, do you know? About Sung?”
He stared at you blankly. “Need you to be way more specific here. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
You tried to pick your words carefully to give him enough of a hint if he did know without outright telling him if he didn’t know. You were sure that Sungchan wouldn’t mind if Jeno knew that he was half-werewolf, but you still didn’t feel like that was your place to go around telling people. “About his parents?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Your friend nodded in recognition. “Half-werewolf, that’s why he was able to have you there, duh.”
“Anyway, when he was coming back out of the shift afterwards, he mentioned us... he mentioned the werewolf mating bite.”
His eyes widened as he took a short inhale before slowly starting with, “Well, I can tell that you two haven’t done that.”
“I figured. So, with Sung being half-werewolf, he’s been having a difficult time with the scenting. I think because he can smell it enough to notice it, but not as strongly as full werewolves...”
“He would have a higher threshold for scenting in order to register it, right. Hence your current attire, I’m guessing?” Jeno gestured to the large black leather jacket you were currently drowning in, which was much too hot for the sweltering summer heat that was still going on outside, but still a better option than the hoodie you had previously been in.
You gave a resigned, what-can-you-do smile. “Yeah. And he’s not going to say anything about it, but I know he’s going to be stressed when I see him after this and he can smell you and Jaemin.”
“Oh, definitely.” He snorted lightly, not judgmental, but more sympathetic. “Let me guess: he gets all needy and clingy? Likes to bury his face in your neck?”
“Exactly. And the cuddles would be nice but, I don’t know... I hate seeing him like this, you know? So... anxious. It’s not like him.” You sighed, beginning to feel more guilty the longer you stayed here and got wrapped up in the smells of other people.
“It’s the first time in his life the wolf side is in charge of him and not the other way around. He’s really understanding what it’s like being a full werewolf outside of the full moon, of course he’s not having a good time.”
“Is it like that for you? With her?”
“Kind of. I can smell everything better, so I can smell the subtler things. Without going into too much detail, all those instincts aren’t on edge for me as much as Sungchan’s are right now. And we also figured something else out.”
“Something else?” You asked curiously. Last time you saw Jeno’s girlfriend, you couldn’t remember her having a bite mark. But maybe there was something that hadn’t been covered in your classes. After all, several millennia of the cultures, histories, and customs of fourteen species just couldn’t be fit into one undergrad degree. Your bachelor’s was nothing more than a survey of the two fields, to give you the broad strokes and the tools to start wading in.
Jeno pulled on a leather cord that you hadn’t even noticed was hanging around his neck, bringing a pendant out from under his collar. It was a pale white stone, flat, the size of a coin, with opalescent flecks that caught the light as he showed it to you.
“Moonstone. We have matching ones. They’re even enchanted so that when I…” he wrapped his whole hand around the stone “…hold onto it a little tighter, it reacts, and she can feel hers warm up too. So she knows I’m thinking about her.”
“And it helps with your shifts. That’s really sweet, Jeno,” you said, watching as he tucked it back under his shirt, presumably to keep it in skin-to-skin contact so he could feel if she squeezed her gem back in response.
“But that’s what works for us. It needs to be whatever works for you guys.”
You looked down at your fingers nervously. “But you two haven’t even…”
“I haven’t bit her?” The werewolf said bluntly.
“Yeah, and you’ve been together for a lot longer than us.”
“We’re not you and Sungchan. We may have set you guys up, but we’re not you.”
“You set us up? What?” That little off-hand comment had stolen your focus for the moment.
Jeno’s brow furrowed. “Did you never get the full story of how you got sent on that first blind date with him?”
“I mean, Jaemin had shown me a picture of him from your Instagram account, and I knew that you two knew each other through your girlfriend. But no, I guess I never did get the whole story. Jaemin said something about a deal, I think…”
His wide eyes and ‘oh shit’ face said it all. With a wince, he sighed, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you this…”
“What? Jeno, come on,” you pleaded, clasping your hands together in front of you like you were kneeling at an altar.
“Ah, fine, fine.” He gave in easily, regret immediately coming to his features as you perked up, eager to hear the story. “We were all playing soccer one day and her—” he jerked his thumb at the empty space on the couch beside him that the both of you had both been vaguely referring to whenever you mentioned his girlfriend. “—and Sungchan made this bet. You see, something had happened at the park that day. There was another werewolf there, and he called my girlfriend something nasty. And Sungchan was saying that because of stuff like that, he wanted to just stick with dating other werewolves. He also kept saying something about love making my brain rot. It made sense in context. Sort of.”
You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt Jeno for fear that you’d get him off-track and lose your opportunity.
“Anyway, they made a bet that if she was on Sungchan’s team and did her best in the game against me, then Sungchan would let her set him up on one blind date with anybody, werewolf or not. And he wasn’t allowed to intentionally bomb it, he had to actually put in a genuine effort.”
“And I was that date…” You surmised, several pieces falling into place. Specifically, Jaemin and Donghyuck’s initial pitch of Sungchan to you.
“Jaemin suggested you, and we thought the two of you would be a good fit.”
You added humorously, “And I’m not a werewolf.”
“Well, yeah.” Jeno ducked his head sheepishly like he was a puppy that was afraid you were going to notice the shoes that he had chewed up behind him. “But we really did put a lot of thought into it, I swear. And then when we heard he made you walk out in ten minutes, we were actually going to make him go on another one because we thought that he had sabotaged his one with you.”
“Amazingly, no, I think that really was his best effort at the time.” You snickered.
“Now I feel like I have to apologize for subjecting you to him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, he said he didn’t want to go on another date, he had to fix things with you first. She let up on him after that. Apparently believed his mind had been changed.”
“I don’t know how a ten-minute conversation where he practically accused me of being a werewolf fetishist for dating two werewolves, and I asked about his major and told him about my cheating ex could’ve possibly changed his mind but— Hey, look how far we’ve come.”
“And now you know the story of how you two ended up on that ten-minute, awful, terrible blind date that I almost wish we didn’t send you on now that I’ve heard what happened on it.”
“I’ve had worse dates.”
“But like I was saying. We—” he pointed between himself and the empty space proxy of his girlfriend “—are not you two. Just like in human relationships, the big steps happen at different times for everyone, there isn’t one right answer to when a werewolf couple take on each other’s bites. There’s even less of a blueprint for werewolf-human couples. So as far as I’m concerned, you and Sungchan? A half-werewolf and human couple? You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.”
“Unprecedented…” You repeated to yourself, drumming your fingers along your knee.
You and Jeno chatted for a few more minutes about this and that, but you soon decided that you’d have to be going. Sungchan had texted you the full sequence of finishing class, leaving campus, and arriving home while you’d been talking, and there was a pinch at your heart as you could imagine him getting more anxious with each passing minute that you weren’t there. And then there were the smells that you were going to have to deal with once you did return, too.
As Jeno walked you to the front door, your eyes drifted over to the kitchen, an idea popping into your head.
“Hey, Jeno? Can I have a glass of water?”
“Sung?” You called out into the seemingly empty apartment as you turned to close and lock the front door up. “I’m— oof!”
You were knocked off kilter by 186cm of werewolf, barely catching yourself against the door on your forearms to avoid bonking your forehead into it. Sungchan had his arms wrapped around your waist, already nosing around your hair and neck.
“Hi…” Sungchan said against your cheek, his tone apologetic. He got too excited, he didn’t mean to almost KO you like that.
Slowly, you reached over to finish flicking the deadbolt into the locked position. Then, you blindly stretched a hand back to pat him on the head. “Hey, hey.” You kept your voice calm and soothing.
He was getting down to the collar of the shirt you were wearing—one of his t-shirts, and you could feel him shifting to hold you tighter. He’d definitely noticed something was off.
“You know, I’m really sorry, Sung,” you began, turning your tone mournful and looking down at the wet patch on the front of your shirt. “I know this is your shirt, I feel really bad about this, but I spilled water on myself while I was out. Do you think I can throw this one in your wash here and borrow a new one?”
He immediately perked up at this, “Yeah, of course!”
You smiled. “Thanks.”
Success.
After your dinner and night out together in downtown, you ended up back in Sungchan’s room, fitted in your new crewneck sweater—this one for a concert he’d gone to last year. You were reclined between his legs against his chest as you half-watched him game, half-scrolled on your phone, and half-snoozed. You’d been playing the game in multi-player mode with him earlier but put your controller aside some time ago when you’d let out a couple loud yawns. Ruminating thoughts of your conversation with Jeno had kept you from fully falling asleep, though.
“Sung?” You waited for a pause on a loading screen to call for his attention.
“Mm?” He hummed back to let you know he was listening, even as the new map loaded in. He hadn’t moved his character yet, fingers frozen as they hovered over the buttons.
“Can we talk for a second?”
“Of course.” Your boyfriend quickly saved and exited the game, setting the controller beside yours on the nightstand.
He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you tighter to him, resting his chin on your shoulder as he waited attentively for you to start with whatever you needed to talk about. You could hear him take a pause to sniff the air around you, and a small, disgruntled sound came from the back of his throat almost immediately.
“Face-to-face?” You requested quietly.
“Right, sorry.”
He loosened his arms, reluctantly letting them fall from around you.
Pushing yourself up off his legs into a full sitting position, you turned around in place, still finding yourself between his thighs. He straightened up a little bit from his spot against the headboard.
You reached out to take his hands in yours. “This is something that really stresses you out, isn’t it? The smells?”
“It’s… I can’t put my finger on it. It’s like…” He took one of his hands back to run his fingers through his hair, and your chest hurt to see the distress on his features. “Imagine being able to constantly see something right in the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head, you can’t actually look at it. You know it’s there, but you can never actually get a proper look. Humans never know it’s there, and werewolves get to look at it head-on. But I don’t get either. It’s terrible.”
“Ah, Sung… That sounds awful, baby.” You grimaced sympathetically, unable to imagine how wound up and panicky he must be all the time. You just wanted to cut this conversation short right now to wrap your arms around him, rub his back and tell him you were never going to leave him again. But for right now, all you could do was squeeze his hand tighter, and hope he got the message.
“I know that sometimes you smell right and sometimes you don’t. But I don’t know why, usually. And it’s not like you smell bad like you need a shower or anything. But like… ah, I can’t describe it.” He groaned, rubbing his face. “I don’t even know what I’m smelling all the time. But it’s just—”
“Not right. I get it, that made sense. And it’s better when I wear your clothes, or spend time with you? Here?”
“I’m sorry…” He said weakly.
“Woah, hey, where in there was I asking for an apology? I’m trying to figure this out together, okay? Not make you feel bad for being unable to turn your nose off. I don’t like that you’re this stressed all the time, you know?”
“In my normal, thinking brain I know you should—and I want you to—be able to wear whatever clothes you want to wear. And I’m glad that you’re spending time with your friends, and I want to go wherever you want to go, whether that’s out somewhere, or to your place. I loved our date night out tonight. It’s not those actual things that bother me at all, it’s just that you smell different.”
“I know, I know.” You reassured him, continuing to hold his hand and gently rubbing his forearm with your free hand. “So maybe there’s something more permanent we can do to help you with the smells?”
Sungchan met your gaze uncertainly. “Permanent?”
“You mentioned it after your last shift. Me taking your bite. I found one other half-werewolf/human couple who did it, online, and they said it helped with the scent anxiety.”
“Y/N…” He breathed your name out.
“I understand if you’re not ready for it. I know it’s a really big step for werewolves. But I had to put it out there, if there’s any possibility that it’ll help.”
“This is not how I imagined this conversation going at all.”
“What?”
“The human reassuring the werewolf that it’s okay if the werewolf isn’t ready for a mating bite yet.” He laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh my god. We really are one-of-a-kind, huh?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle too. “When you put it like that, that is pretty funny. You thought you were going to have to convince me, huh?”
“I wasn’t going to badger you into it if you didn’t want it, that’s for sure. But I mean, I didn’t bring it up again after my last shift because I wanted to do it more… I don’t know, romantically than being a sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess in your lap. I just hadn’t figured out how to do that yet because I’ve been too focused on spending every spare second I can with you.”
“I thought you were a very cute sweaty, exhausted, slurring mess when you asked me last time,” you giggled.
“Right, thanks.”
“So, do you want to do it, then?”
“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”
Jeno’s words came back to you: You two do whatever the hell you want. You’re unprecedented.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be doing anything any specific way, Sung. We just do it. But if you want to ask me, go for it.” You smiled at him encouragingly. After a few beats of silence, though, you pinched his thigh teasingly, “I’m waiting.”
“What—Right now? Really putting me on the spot.” Sungchan rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“Well when else—”
“No, I’ve got it.” He squared his shoulders, face turning serious as he turned his eyes to you. Briefly kissing the back of your fingers first, he began, his voice much shakier than you had expected, “Y/N, I’m ready to give you my mating bite, if you will accept it. But I don’t want it to just be me biting you. I-I want you to do whatever you need to do to make it feel complete to you, too. Since you can’t give me one back. If that’s okay with you?”
Despite you (mostly) knowing what was coming, you still unexpectedly found yourself tearing up as you went to nod your head yes. “Of course, Sung. That’d be perfect, yes. You’ll have to give me some time to figure it out, but yes, I love that.”
“I love you.”
You stood up on your knees to wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss before burying your face in his collar. “I love you, too.”
Sungchan hugged you back tightly, pulling you back with him into almost the same position as before, with you against his chest. He pressed kisses to any part of you that he could access, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your ear. You turned your head enough so that the next one he could plant on your lips, a sweet, loving kiss.
“Ah…” He sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, a bright smile on his face.
“What?” You traced over the smile lines at the corner of his eye.
He was almost nose-to-nose with you when his beautiful brown eyes were open again. Looking at you, he admitted freely, “I’m just… so happy.”
“Me too.” You beamed.
“And I can’t believe I almost let myself miss out on this, on you, so many times.”
“Let’s see… the night we actually got together.” You teased, ticking the instances off on your fingers.
“Mm-hm.” A pink flush was starting to creep up Sungchan’s neck.
“Valentine’s Day at the boba shop. Which you owe me emotional damages for, by the way.”
“Yeah. Sorry…” The pink had overtaken his neck and was starting to flush his cheeks.
“Our first date.”
Completely red-faced, he nodded and sighed. “Like I said, I’m just happy that—”
“Oh, and the bet.”
“Huh?” He was entirely frozen, staring at you with wide, unblinking eyes.
“I saw Jeno today,” you stated.
“Yes, I did smell him when you came home.”
“I finally got the full story of how you ended up on our blind date, Sung.”
“Listen, I am a proud member of the Love-Rotten Brains Club now.” He tightened his arms around you and nuzzled his nose along your cheek and neck as he spoke, making his lips brush over your skin in ghosts of kisses. “I’m the president and the whole board and the social media intern and whatever else. Never have I ever been more proud of being wrong. I’ll say it every day for the rest of our lives.”
“Ah!” You squirmed and laughed as he was over a ticklish spot. “Alright, you don’t have to do that. But I’m glad they pushed you out of your comfort zone.”
Sungchan let up, allowing you to simply rest your head in the crook of his neck.
“To my credit, I was the one who offered the terms of that bet in the first place.”
“Really? You had to know that they were definitely going to set you up with someone who was not a werewolf, right?”
“I knew. I figured I could make polite small talk for an hour and be done with my end.”
You couldn’t help but laugh loudly, from the gut. “Oh, baby, if polite small talk was your goal, then you failed miserably.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” he said remorsefully.
“Now, I’ve got to know.” You poked his chest pointedly. “Everyone seems convinced that you were like, in love with me and a changed man from that one plane crash of a conversation. Shotaro says that you kept walking around talking about how you wanted to apologize to me for weeks after. Jeno and his girlfriend didn’t set you up on another date despite you not really holding up your end because she was content that you had changed your mind. So?”
Sungchan’s chest rose and fell under you with a deep breath, and he took a pause as if piecing together his thoughts before responding. “Even if we didn’t end up meeting again, I think that date with you was always going to be an important lesson for me, about getting my head out of my ass. I’m just glad I got to take what I learned back to you and apologize and show you that. Like, yeah, our first date was only a few minutes, but I kind of hate to admit that I thought about it for weeks afterwards, because that sounds like weirdo behavior. I mean, literally until the night we saw each other at the boba place. It’s not that it was even romantic at that point, it was more guilt than anything else. I knew I was in the wrong, and I felt awful that I might not be able to tell you that I knew that.”
“I’m glad you found me again at the boba shop. Not a lot of guys would’ve had the guts to actually apologize. Probably would’ve grabbed their drink and ran. Or ran as soon as they saw me and not even ordered.”
“I just wish I had the guts to actually ask you out that night.”
“Me too. But I’m not entirely blameless either. The start of our relationship isn’t a weight that falls solely on your shoulders just because you’re the guy, or the werewolf, or whatever.” You shrugged. “And we figured it out eventually anyway.”
“Yeah, we did.” Sungchan pressed a kiss to your forehead.
Stopping in front of a familiar red brick townhouse, you ran up the couple short steps to knock on the front door before you could psych yourself out. You and Sungchan had decided to go through with the mating bite after the next full moon in one week, which was a couple days after the end of the summer semester. It gave him time to focus on his finals, and fell in the two-week break between the summer semester ending and the fall semester starting. This was going to be your last year as undergraduates, both you and Sungchan were graduating in the spring. You could hardly believe that you only had two more semesters left of your bachelor’s degree. And then you had grad school.
But right now, you had this: The front door being opened to reveal Mr. Jung to you, a smile immediately crossing his face as he recognized you. Even behind the glasses perched on his nose, you could easily see Sungchan in his features.
“Hi, Mr. Jung,” you greeted him politely.
“Oh, hey, Y/N.” He tucked the pen that was in his hand behind his ear. “Here to see Jieun?”
“Uh, no. Sorry to just drop in, but I wanted to talk to you about something, actually. Do you have time for some tea?”
He backed up, waving you in. “Sure, of course. Come on in.”
“Thank you.” You walked in with a grateful head dip, taking your denim Jasmine & Pearls baseball cap off as you passed over the threshold of the front door.
“Sungchan’s got a hat just like that,” Mr. Jung commented, leading you further into the home. “Or is that one his?”
“Oh, we actually won them in a game at the boba shop that Shotaro works at. We each have our own.” You looked over the purple embroidered logo fondly. “It’s kind of how we met. The second time.”
“Right, the boba tea place that Shotaro works at…” He echoed, recognition in his tone.
You followed Mr. Jung upstairs, which you didn’t get to see the last time you’d been over for dinner. He led you into a room with wallpaper depicting cartoon spaceships, planets, moons, and stars. The ceiling was covered in glow in the dark stars, and even the curtains were embroidered with star maps. The furniture itself was set up to be an adult’s home office, though, despite the shell having clearly been a child’s bedroom. There were still some shelves on the wall with trophies from science fairs and sports teams.
“Sorry, Jieun doesn’t drink tea, and the electric kettle in the kitchen is busted.” Mr. Jung half-explained why he’d brought you in here, another electric kettle in his hand. “Give me a second, I need to fill this up.”
“Of course,” you nodded, not entirely paying attention to what he was saying. Truly, you were still looking around at what was obviously Sungchan’s childhood bedroom.
Any kids’ furniture was gone and replaced with a desk, laptop, two chairs, and a printer. But you didn’t mind, as you leaned in to read the little engravings on his science fair trophies, and from his soccer teams, and baseball teams, and spelling bees, and mathletes competitions—god, you were dating a mathlete? He’d failed to mention that. There was a picture that looked like it was from a field trip from primary school, of his whole class in front of a space shuttle at the closest space and natural history museum. You squinted your eyes as you studied the picture, trying to figure out which one was your boyfriend.
“Sungchan’s the really tall one that you probably thought was a teacher’s helper,” Mr. Jung said humorously, announcing his return.
You turned around, the picture still in your hand, and your eyes immediately landed on the child he was referring to. Gangly, awkward, nearly a head taller than the rest of the kids, but still smiling so brightly—his crooked smile gap-toothed at that moment in time—because he was just so, so excited to be there.
“Ah, yep. There he is,” you smiled fondly, setting the picture back down.
“He gets his height from Jieun’s father. In case you were curious.”
Mr. Jung set the kettle back on its stand on the desk and started heating it up. He cleared a huge stack of papers off a second chair that was next to the desk, then gestured for you to sit. You did so, watching him take down a couple mugs from the shelves over his desk, and pull open the top drawer to root around in it.
“Jasmine?” He asked.
“That sounds lovely, thank you.”
He took out one tin, right as the kettle made a small ding to let him know the water was ready. Mr. Jung poured the water into both mugs first, then took out a couple small, empty pouches. He measured out the loose jasmine tea into each before sealing them and dropping them in the water.
“I figured you would’ve wanted to talk to Jieun about the bite,” he said as he handed you your cup. “Also, let me know if you want some honey for that.”
“I’m good on the honey, thanks,” you smiled awkwardly. “So he told you already.”
The other human eased himself down into the office chair in front of you. “Yes, Sungchan’s been keeping us appraised. He was nervous to tell us at first, since you two haven’t been together very long.”
“Well, yes—”
“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s a decision for you and Sungchan to make, not his parents.”
That put you at ease again. “Thank you.”
“And it did make Jieun laugh when she heard that you were the one who did the mating bite talk with him. She likes you a lot. We both do.”
“Oh, thanks…”
“So why did you want to see me? I’m always happy to have some tea with you, but it sounded like you came with a purpose.”
“I wanted to ask about what it’s like? Taking a werewolf’s mating bite as a human?” You plunged into the conversation head-first. “The only other werewolf/human couple we know hasn’t done it, so I don’t really have a point of reference. Like, in class, I’ve learned about the sociocultural importance of it within werewolf packs for mated werewolf couples, but… Sung and I are a bit different, you know?”
Mr. Jung nodded thoughtfully. “I can tell you what my personal experience is, sure. It may be different for you since Sungchan is half-werewolf.”
“Right, of course.” You sat forward, interested. Blowing over your tea, you took your first sip, the lightness of the jasmine dancing across your tongue.
“The biting itself hurts at first. If we were werewolves, my understanding is that it’s nearly painless since their bodies are prepared for it. Humans, not so much.” He rubbed at his mark absentmindedly. “So it will hurt, which I’m sure my son will feel awful about. The shoulder will be a little sore for maybe half an hour or so after, but he won’t even draw blood. And it heals very fast, too. Then you’ll be left with the mark. Werewolves who receive bites have something happen biologically in them with pheromones or something. Again, we don’t have that going on. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t be meaningful for you at all. That meaning will just manifest differently, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jung. That was really informative.” You took another drink of your tea.
“Of course. And you know that it’s not a one and done, right?” He warned.
You let out a half-chuckle. “I do know that, yes.”
“Again, I don’t know how much it’ll vary since Sungchan is half-human, but the bite will need to be refreshed more often than if you were both werewolves. My guess would be even more frequently than if he were a full werewolf, but that’s just purely speculation.”
“That would make sense. Thanks for the heads up.” You said, watching the metal of his wedding band glint as he lifted his mug to his mouth. “Can I ask… when did you take your wife’s bite?”
Mr. Jung sighed, a bittersweet sort of smile coming to his face. “It was before we were married. We’d been dating for some time at that point, a couple years. When we first got together, there were some… vocally unhappy members of her pack, but they did quiet down after a while. However, I think they hadn’t expected us to last so long, or that Jieun was just going through a phase or something. After a while they started pressuring Jieun to break up with me and date within her pack— or at least another werewolf. We’d discussed the bite once or twice before, and she thought that if I took it on, it would make everyone leave us alone; that we’d look like any other mated pair of werewolves. It ended up doing the opposite. It was way too far in the eyes of Jieun’s pack. I already knew at that point that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, so from there we eloped, settled down here, eventually had Sungchan a few years later.”
“And you all… have you spoken to her pack again since?”
“No. Unfortunately Sungchan has never been able to meet his family on that side. I suggested it to Jieun when she was pregnant, but she looked me in the eye and asked me if her pack reacted that way just to us being together, then could I imagine what sort of awful things they might think of our child? And would I want to put our baby through that just for some romanticized idea of family? I never brought it up again.”
“What about your family?”
There was no more bitterness in his smile anymore, just pure love and fondness. “They’ve been incredible. Never looked at Jieun or Sungchan as anything other than family. I know Sungchan would probably rather have the pack but—”
“What do you mean?” You couldn’t help but blurt out, furrowing your brow in confusion.
“I know he doesn’t tell people he’s half-human. And really, it’s alright. I get it, being a human isn’t anything to brag about.” Mr. Jung sounded like he really had come to terms with that, that his son would rather not tell people about his dad, about where he came from. Which wasn’t even true.
“That’s not why he tells people he’s only a werewolf. He’s not ashamed of you, or of what he is, on either side. He loves you, a lot. He does that because if he tells people that he’s half-human half-werewolf up front, they take it as a free pass to ask him weird questions.”
The man’s face relaxed, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. “I never realized that. Thank you, Y/N.”
“And I mean, you didn’t need me to tell you that. Just look around you. It’s not like he’s exactly got wallpaper of spreadsheets and supply/demand graphs in here, right?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at that. “You’re right. It’s… comforting, though, to have outside confirmation.”
“I know, I get it.”
Mr. Jung gazed past you, out the window behind your head wistfully, taking another sip of his tea. “Growing up how he did… we—Jieun and I—were worried about him for a while, you know.”
“Worried how?”
“Well, that he’d spend so much time trying to protect himself from what our life was like, that he wouldn’t actually be looking for what he wanted.” Mr. Jung’s eyes focused back on yours then, and he smiled at you. “But as soon as he brought you home, we knew we could rest easy.”
“Because I’m human?”
“No, no,” he shook his head, lifting his mug to take another relaxed sip of his tea. “We would’ve loved you if you were human, werewolf, fairy, dragon, anything.”
“I’m sorry but… I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“When he was in high school… he and his mom used to get into fights. Teenager hormones, half-werewolf teenager hormones… it was a lot. I know the fact that he was the only half-werewolf at his school, and the only werewolf not in a pack, too, didn’t help either. A lot of it was Sungchan not understanding his mother’s choices, either about leaving her pack, or dating a human in the first place, or not going back to the pack, or whatever else he decided she’d done wrong that day. He’d pretty much always declare that he’d make the ‘better choice.’” Mr. Jung put air-quotes around the last two words. “You know, have a werewolf partner so that his family wouldn’t get harassed, join his future partner’s pack, things like that. Sungchan mellowed out a bit more after he started college, and they started properly getting along again once he moved out last year.”
That mostly lined up with what Jeno had told you about his conversation with Sungchan at the park, his previous policy to only date other werewolves. You frowned thoughtfully, taking a long, slow drink of tea.
“Seeing how Sungchan is with you… he’s not hiding from anything,” he finished fondly.
“I’m sorry I was so dismissive before, Mr. Jung,” you finally said, your voice quiet and contemplative. “When you were talking about Sungchan not telling people he’s half-human. I jumped in completely forgetting that you’ve known him for his whole life… and there could’ve been a lot more reasons why you would’ve thought he was ashamed to be human.”
“Hey, Y/N.” Mr. Jung put his tea down on the desk, perching on the front of his seat to gently place a hand on your forearm. “It’s okay, really. For one, I know you meant well. And two, we know Sungchan very differently. Obviously, yes, I’ve known him his whole life, but you were lucky enough to meet him now, when he has some stuff already kind of figured out. And I’m very glad you did. Because trust me, you should not have met Sungchan in high school. I love my son, I’ve always loved him, but I definitely do not think that if you two had met in high school, you and I would be sharing a cup of tea right now.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that, thinking not only of the high school version of Sungchan that had just been recollected to you by Mr. Jung, but also of yourself in high school, who honestly wasn’t any more put together. “Yeah… I don’t talk to any of my high school boyfriends anymore. Saw one of their moms at the grocery store last week actually, and she still recognized me, gave me a nasty look, and blocked the aisle with her shopping cart so I couldn’t get by her. I dated her son almost five years ago now, I think?”
The other human laughed, giving your arm a couple pats before taking his hand away and reclining back in his desk chair again. “Not to mention, if we both had known him his entire life, then I wouldn’t get to tell you any of the fun stories about him as a kid. Has he told you he was a mathlete?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“Team captain junior and senior year. They were semi-finalists both years he was captain and even won the State series his senior year.”
“Did he have like a little dweebus uniform or something?”
“Polo shirt, khaki cargo shorts, the whole nine.”
“Please tell me you have pictures.”
“Oh yeah, him and Shotaro.”
“Taro too?!”
[you: attached image]
[you: attached image]
[taro: HOW DID YOU GET THOSE?????????]
[taro: WHAT THE HELL I MADE SUNGCHAN PROMISE ME THOSE WOULD NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN]
[you: did you make Mr. Jung promise you though?]
[taro: does sungchan know that you’re getting blackmail material from your new bestie, HIS DAD??]
[you: what do you mean blackmail material?? personally, i think you look SO cute in those pictures in your little mathletes uniform]
[you: i didn’t even know sirens could need glasses and braces]
[you: wait does this mean you wear contacts??? i feel like it’s illegal to know this]
[taro: it is, now i have to kill you]
[you: ooooohh, wait till i tell sung]
[taro: not if i drown you first]
[you: you can’t kill me, i know where Mr. Jung keeps the mathletes photos]
[taro: damn it]
[you: and the ones from your first school dance]
[taro: DOES THIS MAN JUST HAVE A SHOEBOX LABELED “OSAKI SHOTARO BLACKMAIL MATERIAL” OR SOMETHING WHAT THE FUCK]
[you: no it’s labeled “jung sungchan blackmail material” actually but you just happen to be in a lot of the pictures too]
[taro: wait for real?]
[you: no, dumbass, he’s sungchan’s dad, of course he’s going to have a lot of old photos of his son and by extension, his son’s friends]
[taro: don’t get a guy’s hopes up like that, damn]
[taro: alright come on, let me see the bad pics you got of sungchan now]
[you: noooo, they’re not bad, they’re actually really cute 🥹🥹]
[you: attached images(+5)]
[you: like just LOOK at my little guy 🥹 he was so little and cute]
[taro: the FUCK are you talking about]
[taro: he’s clearly like 20cm taller than me and everyone else INCLUDING THE TEACHER SPONSOR]
[you: yeah, and he’s JUST a little guy, so little and cute]
[you: i wouldn’t expect you to get it, taro…………sigh]
[taro: attached image]
[taro: THIS IS YOUR MANS????]
[you: WELL WHEN YOU ZOOM IN ON ANYBODY’S FACE LIKE THAT OF COURSE IT’LL LOOK A BIT OFF]
[taro: the favoritism is so real right now]
[you: i’m so tired of your dramatic ass like what fucking “favoritism” 😭😭 of course i like sung better he’s my boyfriend]
[taro: and??]
[you: you’re not??? the fuck you mean “and??”]
[taro: and i think a good friend should be fair and impartial]
[you: i came here to name and shame you to your face, not to be fair and impartial i don’t know how you could’ve been under any other impression]
[taro: i’m so telling sungchan about this]
[you: don’t forget to leave in the part where i called him cute and you intentionally manipulated a picture of him to make him look worse]
[taro: i regret ever setting you two up]
[you: actually jeno and them did it first]
[taro: and i should’ve left you two crashed and burned and SINGLE where i found you]
[you: love you taro 🫶]
[taro: nice try demon that lives in my apartment and doesn’t pay rent 🫶🫶🫶]
[you: SUNGCHAN DOESN’T LET ME WHEN I TRY TO CHIP IN FOR HOW MUCH I’M OVER THERE I SWEAR]
[taro: i figured, which is why i don’t let him pay more than his half either]
[you: then why are you being mean to me about it 🥺]
[taro: do you feel bad enough that you’ll delete those mathlete photos off your phone now?]
[you: nice try demon that i’m never paying rent to 🫶🫶🫶]
Pushing open the door to the next shop on this street, you were pleasantly surprised by the calm, quaint atmosphere that you were greeted by. The bright red and gold pillars outside of the toy and watch shop had suggested otherwise, but inside of it were a few display cases filled with watches and other pieces of jewelry, while the other half of the shop had shelves upon shelves of toys. Every item in the store seemed handmade, and even to your untrained eye, you could tell that several had magical properties. A girl about your age was behind one of the watch and jewelry counters towards the front of the store, which also had the register on it. She was fiddling with an open watch, and you watched as she readjusted the light of the lamp above her with just a flick of her wrist—not touching a single button or switch on the device. All the jewelry and other accessories she was wearing already made you think she might’ve been a witch, but that just locked it in for you.
Some music played throughout the store, though you couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from, as there were no visible speakers on the ceiling or elsewhere. Briefly dragging your eyes over the display cases as you strolled up towards the employee, you spotted quite a few watches, of course, as well as necklaces, rings, earrings, and small trinkets. But nothing that quite stuck out to you as what you were looking for.
The witch perked up as you came to a stop in front of her, setting her tiny tools down on the small rag alongside the watch pieces. “Hi! Welcome in. Is there something I can help you with?”
“This is a magical kind of shop, right?” You asked curiously. Apothecaries usually stuck out as such, but having a witch and a couple things that glowed didn’t guarantee anything.
“Yep! This place is ran by my coven!” She told you proudly. “We make everything in here by hand in the back, fine tune the mechanics and the magic ourselves. Are you looking for any particular kind of magic thing?”
“Yes, well, sort of…” You trailed off sheepishly. “I’m kind of gift shopping right now.”
“What’s the occasion?”
After a split-second internal debate, you figured this witch had probably dealt with weirder, and you would definitely need her insight and experience when it came to the magical properties of all of the options in front of you.
“My boyfriend is giving me his mating bite in a few days, but I don’t want to show up empty-handed, you know?” You scratched at the back of your neck. “Like, it’s not an engagement-level thing for us, but it’s still big, and I want to be able to give him something too…”
She didn’t seem thrown off in the slightest, instead seeming to ponder this for a moment, tapping her chin, before her features lit up, and she slid over to the other end of the display case. You followed her down.
“Now, I’m guessing you already know about moonstone—” She explained, pulling out a small display of rings. “Helps their shifts.”
You nodded as you looked over the many rings inlaid with opalescent stones like the one on Jeno’s necklace. “Yeah. And, I mean, his aren’t that bad. Just sort of… disorienting and confusing. Though I hate how sickly he gets the day or so after.”
The witch gave you an intrigued look. “He’s… half-werewolf?”
Darting your eyes back up to her, you wondered which part of what you just said had given it away. The less intense shift? The ‘sickly’ bit?
“And half-human?” She took your silence as an apparent cue to finish her guess.
You slowly nodded.
Immediately, the rings were whisked away from under your nose. She was practically alight with excitement as she flitted over to a completely different display case, grabbing just one singular piece from there and bringing it back over to you. It was another ring, a thick silver band of one width, with no obvious gem settings or other such features.
“So, you wouldn’t really be worried about the shift itself, then. Or, at least not the pain part, which is really what the moonstone helps werewolves with. Easing the transition into and during the shift.” The employee rambled enthusiastically. “The symptoms that he really has a problem with are about getting back into balance after. Since he’s half-human, his body has to work a lot harder to return to homeostasis after an ordeal like a werewolf shift.”
“He’s said something about that before. Homeostasis.”
“Then what you really want is something like this—” She offered the ring out for you to take, depositing it onto your palm. You curiously looked it over closer. “Instead of moonstone, like most things designed for werewolves, this has concentrated moonflower essence in the chamber that makes up most of the band.”
You tilted the ring and could in fact see a small amount of mostly clear, but shimmery iridescent cobalt blue liquid shift around in the light. The container that held the liquid must have been incredibly thin to fit along the ring whilst adding negligible bulk.
Moonflower was of course familiar to you from Magical Botany Club. While the plant itself wasn’t magical, it had a slew of magical applications, and could be distilled down to a magical essence. Much like moonstone, which also wasn’t in and of itself magical, it had an effect on magical beings that were also tied to the moon, most notably, werewolves. Moonflower paste was a common ingredient in traditional werewolf medicine, and even in modern pharmaceuticals, many medications with different formulations for werewolves—or formulated to treat diseases that only werewolves got—often had ingredients derived from the moonflower. In addition to healing properties, the smell tended to have a calming effect on them as well, both in and out of their shifts (unlike moonstone, which exclusively aided their shifts).
You had a moonflower plant in your own apartment, which had been useless for any werewolf purposes as of late with Sungchan never coming over, but hopefully it wouldn’t be that way for long. It had been slightly altered so that it would be suited to growing indoors; moonflower was typically a vine, which was difficult to keep in a one-bedroom apartment with limited balcony space, so after a little bit of help from Jaemin, your moonflower grew as a cute little potted bush instead.
But there was still one more feature on the ring that hadn’t been explained to you. A single, silver, almost-circle on one side of the outside of the ring, entirely flush with the top of the container that held the moonflower essence. The outline of the rest of the circle was there, but it wasn’t quite filled in all the way, a small crescent of darkness keeping the silver from being whole.
“And this?” You gestured to the symbol.
“Tracks the lunar cycle. Waxing gibbous, we’re just a couple days away from the full moon. He probably instinctually knows what phase of the moon it is, but it doesn’t hurt to have an extra reminder.”
Turning the ring over in your hand again, you found yourself nodding and smiling. “Yeah. This is perfect.”
“And you said it’s happening in a few days? So after the full moon, right?”
“Oh, uhm, yes.”
“We could totally make another by then, if you wanted a matching set,” she offered.
“Really? So quick?”
“A lot of the initial process is the R&D,” the witch explained with a laugh. “But we already know how to make this one, it’ll be easy. Promise.”
You thought this over for a moment. After telling so many people that it wasn’t marriage or engagement, getting matching rings… But the whole point of exchanging mating bites in the first place was to match. Well, almost, since no two werewolves would have the same bite. To coordinate. To give each other your own version of the same thing. Your own version of the same thing.
“Do you think you could make it without the chamber with the moonflower essence, actually?” You asked. “Like, still with the lunar tracker. Just the main band and the little part that tracks the lunar cycle.”
She lit up. “Absolutely! Should be even quicker, actually. Probably have that done by the end of business tomorrow, morning after tomorrow at the latest.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah! Say the word and I’ll start as soon as you leave.”
“Yes, please!”
Sungchan hadn’t let go of you once since you arrived at his apartment the evening that you were to be receiving his bite. Either with an arm around your waist, pressed up against your back, or holding your hand. Shotaro had already vacated the premises by the time you’d gotten there, a half-excuse of him staying at Jisung and Chenle’s place tonight being given by the werewolf when you asked.
The two of you ate dinner first. He wanted to feed you, making sure you had eaten and were hydrated before. You were finally taking your class on werewolves this looming fall semester, and had already bought and read ahead in the textbook for it. Specifically, you’d lost count of the amount of times that you’d read and re-read the sections on mating bites, mating bite rituals, and anything else that you could imagine would be relevant to your current predicament.
For mated werewolf couples in packs who were going through the actual ritual, the first step was to usually share a meal consisting of raw meat—fresh kill. Neither you nor Sungchan could or would actually eat that, so you just had a hearty serving of your favorite takeout orders.
Sungchan didn’t even let you sit in your own chair, having insistently pulled you into his lap right at their kitchen table, lifting bite after bite of food to your mouth, always sure to follow it up with your slowly draining glass of water. You were mindful of him, too, making sure he didn’t ignore his half-werewolf appetite in his concern over you.
“‘M full, Sung…” You murmured, gently covering his hand with yours to maneuver the food towards his mouth instead.
He frowned thoughtfully, not parting his lips even as you bumped the spoon against them, looking like a very serious toddler who wasn’t enjoying the game of airplane being played at the moment. “You sure?”
“Yeah, promise.” You nodded with a smile. “It was delicious, and I’m all done. You took good care of me, Sung. Can you let me finish taking care of you, now?”
Your boyfriend’s features softened at that, and he parted his mouth, letting you feed him the spoonful. He happily chewed and swallowed, looking especially blissed out as you gently scratched his scalp with your free hand. In between continuing to feed Sungchan, you finished off your water, and made sure he drank his as well.
Finally, he too declared that he was done eating. Curled up in your boyfriend’s embrace, with a full belly and a full heart, you could’ve almost thought that this was any normal night; nearly forgotten what was going to come next. Nearly.
Sungchan took you to his room next, which wasn’t really necessary, since you had the whole apartment to yourselves. He held you to him with an arm around your waist as he shut the door behind you two. You raised an eyebrow when you heard the door lock.
He buried his face in your neck, wrapping both arms around you now as he half-growled, “Smells like Shotaro out there…”
“Locking the door to keep the smells out…” You hummed in amusement, leaning your head on his shoulder and resting your weight back against him. You decided not to outright point out the flaw in logic there, nor the fact that the two of you could’ve also done this at your place, where there was no smells of Shotaro or anybody else, just you. But of course, you figured it needed to be here because it smelled like Sungchan. It had been so long since Sungchan had been to your home that you were doubtful even a full werewolf would be able to catch a trace of him.
He lifted his head and breathed in like he was about to say something, but you just pulled his arms tighter around you and reassured him, “It’s perfect, Sung. Our own little space. Just you and me.”
Dropping his cheek back down to your shoulder, Sungchan let out a long but shaky breath. Putting your hands over his, your slotted your fingers with your boyfriend’s.
“Sung? Baby? Everything okay?” You asked.
“I just can’t believe we’re doing this…”
“Hey, if you’re not ready for this, we can stop. If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay.”
“No, I want to,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. He coughed, his voice softening again but sounding a little strained as he continued, “Really. I mean… I can’t believe I’m doing this with you. I seriously thought I’d royally fucked things up forever. Multiple times.”
“Well, you didn’t,” you told him strongly. “Now, can I go first?”
“You… go first?” He repeated, confusion coloring his voice so clearly. Apparently, he’d forgotten that you’d be doing more than just getting bitten tonight.
“Aw, I would love to, thanks, Sung,” you tittered jokingly, patting his cheek. “Close your eyes, please?”
He chuckled, and a beat later, announced, “Okay, they’re closed.”
You craned your neck just the slightest to be able to peer at him out of the corner of your vision, seeing that he was in fact squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Reaching into your pocket, you retrieved the small pouch that you’d picked up from the coven’s shop this morning. You shook out the two rings inside into your palm, and put yours on your left middle finger first, a simple silver band with the lunar indicator welded into it. It looked almost like a full moon, but you could see just the faintest strip of black showing that it was actually beginning to wane. Next, you gently put the other on Sungchan’s right ring finger, his with a faint shimmer of the moonflower essence.
Holding the side of his head to press a soft kiss to his cheek, you declared, “Done. You can open your eyes.”
He did so, immediately holding up his hand to inspect what you’d done to it. As he looked over the new jewelry, you explained, “It has moonflower essence, all around the band. And the moon design on it will actually change with the phases of the real moon.”
“Thank you, Y/N. It’s beautiful,” he picked up your left hand, bringing it up towards his face that was still hooked over your shoulder—presumably to kiss the back of it—but stopped short as he seemed to have noticed your new accessory as well. His fingers turned your silver band until he could get a good look at the lunar tracker that matched his.
“I got one too,” you added, skin turning warmer and starting to prickle the longer he went without saying anything. “It’s a lot prettier than those phone apps that track the lunar cycle, right?”
Then Sungchan was turning you around by the hips. He grabbed your face with two hands to kiss you, and you got on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, eagerly kissing him back. You could feel the cool band of his new ring pressing against your cheek, warming up with every passing second from yours and Sungchan’s bodies.
Breaking the kiss, he reached behind his neck for your left hand with his right, bringing them both down to rest over his chest. He pressed your palm against him firmly, and you could feel his heart beating under your touch.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said quietly, earnestly, his voice cracking over your name. “So much… that it doesn’t feel real sometimes.”
“What do you mean, Sung?”
“Like, one person shouldn’t be able to have this much love in their body. Or at least, I shouldn’t.”
“What?” You let out a breathy chuckle. “That’s what so beautiful about love, there can only be more of it, it’s infinite. Of course you’re capable of so much love. How could you think anything else?”
“I used to never understand how my mom could choose to fall in love with a human. To doom her family—me—to our life. No safety or identity that comes with a pack. Even after I realized I had fallen for you, I-I was afraid I was so… messed up from thinking like that my whole life that I wasn’t going to be able to love you like you deserved. Like something might’ve been broken in me.”
“Sung…” You touched under his eye with your free hand, where a tear had fallen. “You’re not broken. You’ve never done anything but love me with your whole heart, I know that. You’ve been so good to me, always.”
“I know,” he nodded zealously, accompanied by a sniffle. “I know now, that I’m not broken. That I can have all this overflowing love in me, and it’s so awesome, but also kind of terrifying?”
You chuckled lightly at that. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I love you so much I get a little scared too, because I’ve never loved someone like I love you. And we haven’t even been properly dating for that long, so if I already love you this much, then how much more am I going to love you in six months? A year? Two? Five? Ten?”
He snapped his head up from where he’d been gazing down at your hands, eyes locking on yours. You smiled back at him weakly. The urge to stuff your words back in your mouth was there, but you knew you couldn’t. It was the truth, that you could picture yourself with Sungchan that far ahead in your life. For the rest of it, if you were going to be that honest, but you bit your tongue before you got there.
The two of you had unintentionally moved onto the next part of the werewolf mating ritual: moonlit confessionals. The light of the nearly full moon shone down on the two of you in front of one of his bedroom windows. Your textbook hadn’t been terribly explicit on the exact content of the words exchanged at this point, just that it was an opportunity for the couple to truly bare their souls to each other, make sure there was nothing hidden that would make the other not want to go through with the rest of the ritual.
“After my last relationship… ended like it did, I thought I might be a little broken, too,” you pushed on with your confession. “I was afraid that in my next relationship, I’d just see cheating everywhere. I was honestly a little relieved when our first date blew up, because I thought that if I dated someone again, I’d treat them like a criminal. But never once has it ever crossed my mind with you, never once have I ever doubted you, have I ever felt anything less than absolutely loved and adored.”
“I do, absolutely love and adore you,” he replied. “And I’m so glad you brought up the future, because I think about it, too. Like, all the time. When I imagine my life after college, or what my life is going to be like in five or ten years… I don’t know much, but I always imagine that you’re there. Like, I don’t know what I want to be, other than happy, with you.”
You couldn’t take it anymore, grabbing him by the neck to yank his mouth down to yours. Pulling him with you towards the bed, you stopped when you felt your legs back up against it.
“Do it, Sung. Bite me,” you murmured against his lips.
He let out a low, throaty groan at your words, tipping his head back as he took a couple deep breaths. You pressed a few more open-mouth kisses to his Adam’s apple and collarbones. Sungchan made another sound that was between a sigh and a grunt.
“We should be sitting down for this,” he stated, though he made no move to follow through on his words.
You removed your lips from his skin to happily plop down into the center of his mattress. The front of you was a bit cold since you were no longer pressed up against him, though you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be for very long.
Sungchan sat down facing you, scooping you up into his arms. You easily settled into his lap, your legs finding familiar places on either side of his hips. Fondly brushing some hair off his forehead, you would’ve been rather content to just stare down at your Sung bathed in moonlight for the next several minutes, so handsome and all yours. But you had something you needed to do tonight.
Grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing—Sungchan’s, of course—you shucked it over your head and off onto the floor. That left you just in a tank top with nearly negligible straps. You could see your boyfriend’s eyes zero in on the bare expanse of skin from your shoulder to your neck that you’d just exposed, where his bite was supposed to go.
“I had my turn,” you said, slipping the thin strap off of the shoulder he was staring at, and tilting your head to open up as much space as possible, make it as clear of an invitation as possible. “Now it’s yours. Go on, baby. I trust you.”
Sungchan didn’t say anything more, but he did grab both of your hands by the wrist—his grip surprisingly gentle—to wrap your arms around his waist. You splayed your hands out over his lower back under his shirt, indulging yourself in his warmth, and smoothing a thumb over his skin. He then wrapped his around you to hold you even closer, if that was possible, and you watched him open his mouth, his white teeth catching the pale moonlight, glinting, and looking much sharper than normal— reminding you of how they looked during his shifts.
Then those teeth were biting you, sinking into your muscle.
Renjun had described what being bitten by a vampire was like to you, once. He had a bucket list for that sort of thing—magical encounters. He said it was a small pinch, barely more than the pressure of a needle, then it was all pleasure from thereafter. Vampire venom, of course, was meant to do that so that those they were biting felt so good so they wouldn’t resist while the vampire drank as much as they pleased from them.
Werewolves were predators in an entirely different sense, with the teeth to match. Theirs were meant to grab prey, hold them in their jaws no matter how much they struggled, and rip flesh from bone. As much damage as possible in one go, so that if said prey happened to escape, they wouldn’t be able to get very far with their injuries.
It was visceral pain, the moment Sungchan bit you. You couldn’t hear the noise that you made—only aware that you made one as you felt the gurgle of something in the back of your throat—through the white noise that exploded behind your eyes the instant his teeth hit bone. You were glad he’d directed you to put your arms around him just moments earlier, as your nails were now firmly embedded in the skin of his lower back—you were sure those would’ve been drawing your own blood in your palms if they hadn’t been there.
A memory suddenly flashed in your mind. You were seven, in your backyard with your dad, watching two squirrels chase each other across the grass. Then your neighbor’s dog came out of nowhere—maybe slipped his collar—and got one in his mouth. Your dad couldn’t get his hand over your eyes quick enough. You didn’t want to pet Mr. Lee’s dog when you saw him a couple days later, despite how well he sat, the adorable way his tongue lolled out from between his razor-sharp canines, and how fast his tail wagged.
The whole thing probably lasted just a couple seconds, but to you it felt like minutes, as every one of your heartbeats pounded through you, ricocheted around in your skull and grey matter. Could Sungchan feel that? Feel your pulse in his mouth? Was he scraping at it with his canines? Just one wrong move away from tearing open something vital?
You trusted him, of course, or you wouldn’t have asked him to do this. Not let him; but suggested, encouraged, requested, told him to. Your fingernails dug into his back even harder at the idea, as much to anchor yourself and provide an outlet as to hold him to you as well. Surely you had to be breaking skin at this point.
You had the urge to bite down on something too. It was a need that came from deep in your jaw. Like when people were given something to bite on for painful procedures in old medical dramas. Or maybe reciprocity.
This go around, you kept your teeth to yourself, though, sinking them into your bottom lip. That pain didn’t even register past the supernova radiating out from your shoulder.
Sungchan finally pulled his teeth out from your flesh, and the rest of your senses snapped back into focus. Your eyes fluttered open—when did you close them?—back to Sungchan’s bedroom, your fingers slowly unfurled from where they’d dug into his back, and you could hear him talking to you as he gently inspected the bite wound.
You brought your hands back around in front of you. Your eyes widened minutely as you realized that there was bright red under a couple of your fingernails. And it wasn’t yours. The beds of your nails were perfectly intact, meaning that you really had broken his skin.
“Oh God, Y/N, the blood. I’m so sorry.” Sungchan muttered under his breath, reaching for something on his nightstand.
For half a second, you thought he meant his, and you were about to apologize as you were still staring down at your hands mostly in awe. But then you actually saw his face for the first time as he turned back around, clutching a damp hand towel.
There was a red tint to his lips, and you realized that wasyour blood. Electricity jolted up your spine before the thought had even fully formed.
…he won’t even draw blood. So much for that, Mr. Jung.
His tongue darted out to instinctively investigate the wetness on his mouth, and a sudden thrill shuddered through you as you watched. You decided not to ask how it tasted to him, despite the question certainly popping into your mind.
You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone instead, so far back it was nearly in his hairline. “I’m okay, Sung. I’m okay.”
Without a word, he started gently cleaning up the bite wound, and you had half a mind to ask for another towel for his back, though you knew that would be futile until he got you situated. So, you sat patiently, keeping your head craned to the side to give him plenty of room, and watched his intent face as he worked.
“Sung?”
He sighed, a sound that let you know he was already beginning his mental descent through the seven circles of werewolf hell. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, I’m so—”
“Can I bite you next time?” You asked simply.
The towel stilled over your bite.
“You… next time… bite… me?” His eyes glassed over as his mouth stumbled to even form around the individual words.
“I know I won’t leave a mark like you but… so I can have something to do?” You used the hand of your unbitten shoulder to trace a line from his ear down his jugular, under his collar, to his shoulder, then back to his collarbone. You took your hand back as you went to joke, “Unless you’re expecting extravagant and meaningful gifts every time?”
“No, no. I mean yes! I mean—” Sungchan took a second to shake his head and blink, clearing his mind. “I don’t expect gifts every time. And yes, you can bite me next time. I didn’t think you would be up for a next time after I… well, after all this.”
He gestured vaguely to the wound that he’d gone back to tending to. A quick glance at it out of the corner of your eye showed you that it had already stopped bleeding and was starting to mend itself. At least Mr. Jung was right about that part.
Even through the acute worry over the unexpected severity of the bite, you could tell that Sungchan was already more clear-headed and overall relaxed, the constant nervous tension in his body gone, replaced just by a determined set of his shoulders, and momentary furrow of his brow as he cleaned up the bite. Brushing his hair off his forehead, you trailed your hand down to cup his cheek fondly. “Sungchan, this is the most yourself I’ve seen you in a long time. Yes, I’m going to keep your bite.”
Just the bright, tender smile on Sungchan’s face—the recognition of being loved and reflecting it back to you—would’ve been more than enough for you to do this again, whether or not it helped the scent anxiety. You could always work on another solution for that. But this you wouldn’t take away for the world.
He set the towel aside again, and you grabbed his hands now that they were free, messing with the brand-new ring adorning one of his fingers.
“Besides, even if I can’t leave a mark like yours next time, I can still mark you up,” you mused quietly, almost as if it were to yourself, except for the fact that you had a werewolf practically chest-to-chest with you. And you knew very well that you did. “They just won’t last as long.”
“Why wait until next time?” He suggested, and you heard the long inhale he took after. You wondered if you smelled any different to him already, or if he just needed to breathe.
You looked up from your hands to him with a smirk. “I like the way you think.”
Sungchan captured your lips in a kiss that tasted of hunger, and love, and metal— your blood was still around his mouth. And you smiled into it before doing as promised and dropping your mouth to the column of his throat, well above his collar, and letting your teeth graze his skin. You could feel his gasp rush in under your lips as his hands pulled your hips firmly down against his.
You decided that Jeno could be a ‘puppy’ all he wanted. You had a wolf, and you were more than happy with that.
“I think I made it out more marked up than you, you know,” Sungchan called out to you from the bathroom the next morning.
“Really?” You replied just as loudly, amusement in your tone as you stretched leisurely in his sheets.
“Shotaro’s going to be concerned for my wellbeing at this rate.”
Sitting up and scooting towards the corner of his bed closest to the mirror, you checked out your own reflection as you imagined he was currently doing, your fingers trailing over the dark bite mark now set into your skin. There was no scab or blood, just the faintest ring of raised skin and distinct outline of teeth. Rolling out your shoulder, you winced as a dull pain radiated out from the bite. Dropping the arm back down, you continued staring at the mark, a certain giddiness fluttering around in your stomach. You’d have this for… who knows how long. The rest of your life, maybe.
Clearing your throat and your mind, you responded to Sungchan with a disbelieving snort, “No he’s not.”
“No, he’s not,” he agreed with a sigh as he walked back into his bedroom just in a pair of sweatpants. Which let you get a great view of the countless blue and purple hickies, love bites, long red scratches, and faded remains of crescent-shaped nail marks that littered his neck, chest, shoulders, and back. You bit down on your bottom lip, a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment welling up in your chest. Sungchan fixed you with a shit-eating grin, putting his hands on his hips. “But my parents will be when we go over for dinner next week.”
“We’re going over for dinner next week?!” You yelped, covering your mouth in horror, panic, and mortification. A lot of the worst of those bruises were well above the collar of all of his shirts. “Why did you let me—”
“I’m kidding,” he cut you off with a chuckle, lumbering over towards the bed to flop down beside you on the mattress.
You smacked his arm as you hissed, “I’m going to kill you, Jung Sungchan! Don’t do that to me!”
“Ouch, full name.” He pouted.
“God, I was about to preemptively die of embarrassment!”
“So it’ll be fine for them to see that,” he pointed to your shoulder, “but not these?” He gestured from his own neck down.
“Different situational and cultural contexts!”
He nodded slowly, “Oh, right, of course...”
“You’re half-human, Sungchan, don’t pull that ‘I’m-just-a-simple-werewolf’ act on me!”
“I upset you. I’m sorry,” he apologized, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.
“You better be, Sungchan.”
“I am, baby, I am.” He gave your hand a half dozen more fervent, rapid-fire smooches. “Now are you done calling me that?”
“What? Your name?” You scoffed.
“You know what I mean, baby...”
“So we don’t have dinner with your parents next week?”
“Nope. Two weeks.”
You shook your head and sighed. “And so you live to see another day, Sung.”
“I’m half-werewolf, I would’ve been all healed up by next week, you know,” he pointed out, sitting up behind you and pressing a couple lingering kisses to your shoulder with your new mating bite.
“I know, I know.”
He continued trailing sweet kisses up your neck and jaw. “Which means I’ll also be all healed in two weeks if you were to give me some more…”
“I don’t know, you just played a very mean trick on me, Sung,” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest as if you were genuinely deliberating not giving in and absolutely devouring this man right now.
“I know,” he murmured between kisses, gently holding your chin with one hand to turn your head back towards him. “I’m the worst.”
“You are,” you breathed out against his lips.
“So now that we agree on that…”
“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” You jabbed the crosswalk button repeatedly.
“It’s going to be fine, Y/N,” Sungchan reassured you, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’ve already met your parents before and it was fine.”
“Yeah, once, for like two minutes, as my friend.” You pointed out, banging the button with the side of your fist when it still hadn’t changed.
You were of course talking about a random Sunday afternoon way back in the spring semester, before you and Sungchan had started dating. He had come over that day to help you put together your new coffee table that you’d finally gotten around to buying. Except, upon starting the assembling, the two of you had realized that neither of you had one of the tools required for it. Thankfully, your dad did, and offered to bring it by since he and your mom were about to head out to run errands anyway. Cue some very brief, very awkward introductions between your parents and Sungchan when they’d brought the promised tool. You weren’t counting, but you would’ve bet money that you had called him your friend at least ten times during that less-than-five-minute conversation, with so much stress and nervous emphasis on the word that you wouldn’t have been surprised if your parents had left your apartment that day already thinking that the two of you were dating.
But now you were actually supposed to be introducing him to them as your boyfriend, and you felt like you were going to throw up and pass out and die before you even got there.
Sungchan wordlessly let go of your hand to smoothly step between you and the crosswalk button, picking up your other hand to hold.
“Come on, you said it yourself that they were impressed with me after that two-minute conversation,” he reminded you. “Imagine how great of an impression I’ll leave after two hours.”
“All I said was that my dad told me later that he was surprised that you were a werewolf because you were so calm,” you corrected him. “He’s used to all my friends from high school who had the bouncing-off-the-fucking-walls energy like Jeno.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Which, by the way, I’ve already told them that you’re not in a pack or anything like that, but pretty much all they know about werewolves is from my classmates and friends from when I was in high school. So… apologies in advance for any assumptions or comparisons they make.”
“Right, the two packs you went to school with.”
“Yeah, them. I told them you’re not in a pack, and don’t have any of that going on. It actually made my mom relax a lot more. I think all that stuff kind of scares her.”
“What? Afraid that I’d whisk you away with my big werewolf muscles to my werewolf pack and she’d never hear from her poor little human daughter ever again?”
You burst out into an incredulous laugh. “You have got to stop talking about yourself like that or I’m seriously going to hurt your feelings one of these days, baby.”
“By saying what? It’s not like I’m lying?”
“Your ego is as stupid big as your stupid big werewolf muscles.”
“Ha!” He cheered out victoriously. “So you admit it.”
“Wasn’t falling in love supposed to rot your brain? Make you more docile or whatever? I think it’s just made you even worse…” You tutted, shaking your head.
“How could I not be on an ego trip? I mean, have you seen my girlfriend?” He retorted. “She’s crazy beautiful, and smart, and funny, and so sweet. I’d be jealous of me if I wasn’t me.”
You rolled your eyes, but squeezed his hand tighter. “Alright, you sap. Maybe the ego trip is warranted. But seriously, don’t talk about yourself like that in front of my parents or I’ll die of secondhand embarrassment. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
So far lunch was going okay. Your mom had invited the two of you over for a late Sunday lunch, which always meant sandwiches and lemonade in your house. And it was going okay, aside from the initial reaction you’d gotten when they’d opened the front door. You could still hear your mother’s shocked gasp and ‘Oh my God…’ muttered under her breath as her eyes were glued onto your neck. More specifically, you knew she was staring at your new mating bite. Or, the half of it that she could see— you weren’t exactly hiding it, so you’d picked your t-shirt today only for comfort in the lingering end-of-August-cusp-of-September heat. It was just over three weeks since Sungchan had given you his bite, a couple days shy of the upcoming full moon, and yeah maybe you should visit your parents more often. But in your defense, you’d been a bit busy between getting the bite in the first place, and the new semester starting.
Your father didn’t have much better of a reaction than your mother, eyes going wide behind his thick, frameless lenses before his jaw clenched. There was still a certain tension in his muscles that jumped every time he saw Sungchan touch you, whether it was a brush of arms, holding your hand, or an innocent squeeze of your knee as he stood up to head to the bathroom that he’d just been gestured towards.
Picking your glass of lemonade back up after Sungchan had left the room, you took only a sip before your mom was reaching across the table to gently take your hand in hers.
“Hey, sweetie…” She said softly but with a certain worried tenseness in her tone that made your stomach drop.
You tried to mimic the front she was putting up, smiling back at her brightly and innocently, “Hey, Mom?”
“Listen... We are so happy for you, and we love Sungchan, we really do.”
“Okay, then why does it feel like this is about to go somewhere that I’m not going to like?”
“Don’t you think that the two of you might just be moving a little fast?”
Entirely dropping all sunny pretenses, you narrowed your eyes at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
“The-the bite,” she explained with a wince, pointing to her own shoulder.
“That’s sort of like marriage for them, right?” Your dad cut in gruffly.
Despite it being phrased like a question, his tone made it sound much more like an accusation, like he already knew he was right and was just letting you know that he knew the truth—or at least what he thought the truth was. It reminded you of when you’d get in trouble as a kid and he’d ask you if you knew how the vase in the living room got broken despite very much already having a good idea himself. Giving you the opportunity to fess up before he punished you even more severely for the initial bad deed and then lying about it on top of that. But you hadn’t done anything wrong this time.
“Sort of, not really, it depends. In some packs, I guess. But Sung’s not in a pack, you know that,” you reminded them firmly, straightening up in your seat.
Your mom jumped back in, “Right, but still, don’t you think he kind of rushed you into—”
“It was my idea,” you cut her off before she could even finish articulating that thought. You knew you’d get all the way pissed off if she did. It was already taking a lot to dampen your anger now and keep this at a civil conversation. It’s just because they didn’t understand. You had to keep telling yourself that, and do your best to explain, calmly, and make them understand. Not everybody had three years of Sociology and Magical Creatures Studies under their belt like you. Your mom had been a stay-at-home mom all your life, and your dad was just a few years away from retirement, having worked in a human-dominated field for his whole career. An architect.
Those same sharp eyes that would pore over building designs late at night in his home office while you sat in his lap and did your own colorful sketches in crayon—and eventually fell asleep in his arms—were now regarding you with a clear distrust. “Darling, really, it—”
“Look, when we first started dating, Sung was having a really hard time with scent anxiety,” you once again spoke over him authoritatively. “All the usual scenting stuff, it wasn’t working. He was really stressed, and anxious, and just… worried sick all the time about me like spontaneously combusting or something if we were apart for even a second. Me taking his bite was the best solution. And now, the beginning of the semester has gone off without a hitch. Classes, my Magical Botany Club, his astronomy club, his senior thesis meetings, my research mentorship project... I don’t know if we would’ve been able to do all of this apart, clear-headed like… literally a month ago. And yes, I brought it up to him. I’m fine, I promise. This is what I want, he’s what I want.”
The two of them exchanged perturbed, skeptical glances, before your mom nodded, and your father let out a resigned sigh.
“Alright, sweetheart. Like we said, we like Sungchan. We just don’t want you two doing anything that you might regret. Either of you.”
“I know, Dad. But we’ve got this. Seriously, it’s… really good with him,” you promised him, a giddy smile coming to your features with your last words.
“We’re happy to hear that, sweetie,” your mom patted your hand.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I don’t want to know anything else about how it happens, but— Does it hurt? Like, right now, does it hurt you?”
“Oh, no, Mom, it’s not painful to the touch or sore or anything,” you reassured her, carefully skirting around the how and instead focusing on the now, pressing on the bite mark to demonstrate that it wasn’t tender like a bruise.
“Good, good, I’m glad.”
The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed down the hall to you, and you turned around to smile at Sungchan over your shoulder as he started back towards you all.
“Well, I think it’s time for the tart I’ve got in the fridge, huh?” Your mom beamed at everyone, standing up from the kitchen table.
“That could’ve gone worse,” you declared as soon as your parents’ front door shut behind the two of you, leaving you and Sungchan on the sidewalk. There wasn’t much in the way of leftovers aside from the berry tart, which your mom sent you off with so that your father wouldn’t eat it all.
“You think so?” Sungchan asked warily. “Because I uh… I did hear what you all were talking about when I was in the bathroom.”
“Yeah, I thought you might’ve.” You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry about all that, Sung. I think they get it now. And really, it was my fault for not at least giving them a heads-up about the bite, it didn’t even cross my mind. We just caught them off-guard.”
Sungchan suddenly stopped the two of you on the empty sidewalk. He cupped your cheek in his hand, running a thumb over your cheekbone, then down your jaw, the side of your neck, until he stopped right over where you knew the mating bite was. His thumb once again stroked over your skin, tracing the shape of the bite and pushing aside your collar when needed.
“Hearing you say that this is what you want, I’m what you want… made me really happy,” he declared simply, eyes still locked on the mark.
“It’s true,” you replied.
A bright, giddy smile spread across his face. “I know. And I knew it as soon as I heard you say it, too.”
You grinned back up at him. “That makes me really happy to hear, Sung. I always want you to know how much I love you.”
He leaned in nearer, and you closed your eyes anticipating a kiss, but instead he just dropped a fond peck to your nose before standing up straight. “I think it’s starting to finally uh, get through my thick skull.”
“Finally,” you echoed with a giggle. “Alright, your place?”
“I actually wanted to ask… Can we go to your place tonight?”
“Finally going to give poor Taro some peace?”
“That, yeah. But I wasn’t even thinking about him to be honest. I just… I want to.”
“Okay, Sung. Come on.” You tugged him down the street in the direction of your apartment.
Sungchan had been to your place on several occasions as your friend and your boyfriend, and yet you were drawing a blank for exactly the last time he had been there. Maybe your third date? Or, technically your fourth date, but you and Sungchan had unanimously agreed to not count that first awkward blind date that the guys set you up on as your official first date. Regardless, it’d been… a while since he’d been over. You kicked your shoes off by the door and didn’t bother to turn the lights on as you deposited the leftover tart in the fridge before beginning your nightly plant-tending. There were a few that needed to be misted still, then you could fully relax. You did the majority of your plant care-taking duties during the actual day, there was just the odd handful that needed a couple good spritzes.
Sungchan watched you patiently as you did so just in the moonlight coming in through the sheers you had over a window. Then, once the spray bottle was put back down, you led the way into your bedroom with maybe a little bit of a skip in your step. While you weren’t a werewolf, you were understanding how nice it felt to have your person in a space that you felt safe and warm and good in again. Like everything was going to be okay forever, maybe.
“You want to wear one of my hoodies?” You joked, rifling through your drawers for some pajamas for yourself.
“You have anything that’d fit?” Sungchan perked up from where he was laying on your bed to ask. He’d already located his few pieces of clothing still stored away here, meanwhile you were struggling as it turns out you very much needed to do a laundry day.
“Try that.” You tossed one at him before turning back around to the dresser. After a few moments, you hadn’t heard anything from behind you, though. “Sung? Love? Everything okay back there?” You looked over your shoulder to find a very cozy-looking werewolf in your extra, extra large hoodie—which just fit him regularly. But it was the eyes-closed, soft, happy smile on his face as he had the hood up around his head, his hair strewn about messily, and he held the ends of the sleeves up to his nose that made you stop in your tracks to just take him in.
His eyes snapped open, and he dropped his hands almost sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah, all good. It fits. Thanks, baby.”
“Of course.” You nodded, feeling a fond smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
You quickly got into your own pajamas for the night and climbed into bed as well. As you reached over to turn off your lamp, Sungchan stopped your hand.
“Are you going to sleep right now?” He asked.
“Well, no,” you said, an eyebrow raised as you watched his eyes flick between your hand and your neck.
“Can we leave the lights on for just a little longer? You can turn them off as soon as you need to sleep. I just… So I can see it?” He let go of your hand and instead graced a finger over your bite mark.
You dropped your hand, nodding. “Sure, Sung.”
He smiled brightly at you. “Thank you.”
With the added light, you decided to do some reading, and Sungchan kept busy alternating between his phone, and folding and unfolding the same origami heart on your bedside table next to him. But you could feel him look over at you every so often, and you knew he was getting used to the still-new image of you with his mating bite. As you came to the close of a chapter, you tucked your bookmark—the film strip of you two from Valentine’s Day at the boba shop—back in and set the book aside.
“Sung?”
“Mm?”
Now that you’d gotten his attention, you wordlessly opened your arms, and he immediately launched himself into them. You let out a punched-out giggle as you suddenly had an arm- and lapful of werewolf. He settled in with his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his lips right against your bite again, his arms wrapped around your waist, and one of his legs slung over you, caging you in. You rested your cheek on the crown of his head, threading the fingers of one hand in his hair as you rubbed your other hand up and down his back. The metal of your lunar ring glinted from among his soft brown locks. Waning crescent.
“Can I turn the light off now, love? I don’t think you can see it from this angle, right?” You requested humorously.
“Hm?” Sungchan made a low, slow, questioning noise in the back of his throat, and you knew he hadn’t even processed your ask.
“Light. Off?”
“Mm, yeah, mkay.”
You could feel him nod against you.
Reaching over towards your lamp was a bit difficult, but you were finally able to stretch your fingers enough to turn it off, plunging your room into darkness. Shifting to relax a bit lower into your pillows, you returned your hand to your boyfriend’s back.
“You’re cuddly tonight,” you commented. Cuddly, not clingy like before the bite. You didn’t feel guilty for reading earlier, he’d been content to do his own thing in the meantime, and you’d been the one to initiate the cuddling now. He’d just been very enthusiastic.
“Don’t you know, Miss MCS Major?”
“How long have we known each other, and you don’t know my major?”
“‘Miss Interdisciplinary Major with a concentration in Magical Creatures Studies’ is a bit long, don’t you think?”
“It’s correct.”
“Miss MCS Student?”
“That’s… acceptable.”
“Anyway, don’t you know about werewolf mating bites, Miss MCS Student?”
“Only whatever was covered in my Intro course, the sociocultural importance of them in packs. We haven’t covered that in my class on werewolves yet. And unfortunately, Dr. Kwon’s Interspecies Marriage class didn’t fit in my schedule last year.”
“Scent swapping. After a werewolf couple exchanges bites, they swap scents until they eventually just have one new one.”
“Ah, so it’s my turn to scent you.”
“Something like that.” Sungchan shrugged. “I know that’s the scientific explanation, like, the magianthropological one or whatever. But really… I just know that being here right now feels right. Like I was never meant to do anything else. Like I could go to class, or go hang out with friends, or something. But after, this is where I’m supposed to be. With you.”
“Home.” You replied simply. “You feel like home.”
“Yeah. You’re my home.”
Unable to come up with anything to say near intelligible, you pressed a long kiss to the top of his head before nuzzling your cheek back into his hair. His arms tightened around you minutely, holding you just that much closer to him.
“And you can’t just start calling me ‘love’ and expect me to just do nothing,” he added teasingly.
“Sung.”
“Yeah?”
The darkness made it so that you couldn’t see Sungchan as the two of you laid together, but every place that you touched felt much more alive, so much more real, connected. “I love you.”
He grabbed one of your hands, just to hold it. You let him.
“I love you, too.” His words didn’t hang in the air, they laid over you like a warm blanket, wound and weaved through your mind like your favorite song, and wrapped around you like a familiar hug. You stayed silent as you basked in them, letting out a soft, content hum as you cradled his head closer to your chest.
“I think I really understand her now,” Sungchan spoke up after some time.
You were used to his non-sequiturs by now. “Who?”
“My mom… Who you love isn’t always a choice, but where you go from there is. The choices you make with that love is up to you.” His hand tightened around yours.
“I can’t wait to be there to make more choices with you, Sung,” you murmured, running a thumb over the back of his knuckles.
Entering Half Moon Bakery with a skip in your step, Sungchan stopped you just past the front door. The two of you had been out and about running various errands all day, and had finally popped into your friends’ workplace for a little breather.
“I’ll be right back.” Sungchan pecked your forehead.
“I’ll go order.” You nodded, watching him disappear around the corner that led to the restrooms.
As you walked up to the counter, you offered the familiar wolf behind the counter a big smile. “Hey Jeno!”
“Hey, Y/N!” He grinned back. “So what can I get—”
He was cut off by a clanging from the kitchens behind him that made you jump out of your skin. The werewolf whipped around, concern etched on his features. He looked to you apologetically, “Sorry, I need to—”
“Go check on her,” you agreed, not liking the distinct lack of cursing that had accompanied the raucous noise. “I wanted to pick something new today anyway, so I’ll need some time.”
“Thanks, be right back!” And with that, he darted into the back.
You did in fact meander over to the display case of pastries, bending at the waist to peer at your options. Humming along to the song playing over the speakers, when you heard footsteps coming up behind you, you figured that it was Sungchan.
“Back so soon, love?” You asked with humor in your voice, standing up straight and turning around. All warmth that was in your chest froze and turned to dread when you saw who was actually behind you.
“Y/N. Been a while since you called me that.” You hadn’t seen your ex in over a year. Not since a week after you’d found out he’d been cheating on you throughout the entirety of your short-lived relationship, when he’d come to pick up what few things he had at your place. But somehow he was at your friends’ bakery now.
“I never did.” You reminded him through gritted teeth. “And clearly I didn’t mean to now.”
Pivoting back around, you crossed your arms and stared straight ahead at the menu board behind the counter.
“Back to your old type, huh?” He was peeling back the collar of your blouse to reveal all of your mating bite.
You snapped around, slapping his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Humans weren’t good enough, so you’re back on the werewolf dick, of course.”
You couldn’t stand to be in here for another second with him sneering at you like this. He wasn’t worth it. You could leave, go around the corner and text Sungchan and tell him where you are and what happened. The two of you could just go somewhere else for the afternoon.
“I’m not going to justify myself to someone like you, so if you’ll excuse me—” You tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of you, blocking your path.
He seized your wrist. “Y/N, come on—”
“Let go of her.” Jeno had appeared at your side, stepping in between you and pulling your ex’s hand off of you.
“Oh, Jeno,” you breathed his name out as a sigh of relief, almost absent-mindedly, as you withdrew your hand back to your chest.
The human was unfazed, though, a sick delight lighting up his eyes as he looked Jeno up and down. “You must be the lucky dogboy. I should tell you, for your sake, she has a type, if you know what I mean. Dated two werewolves before me, and she broke up with me because I just couldn’t satisfy her like she was used to.”
“You’re disgusting,” you hissed.
“She broke up with you because you’re a cheating scumbag, actually.” Sungchan was back from the bathrooms, and strode up behind your ex, a deep frown already etched onto his features.
“That’s the lucky wolf whose girlfriend you just manhandled.” Jeno pointed up at him.
Sungchan clearly hadn’t witnessed anything, as his eyebrows raised minutely at the word ‘manhandled’ before his frown became a hard glare and he pushed your ex back against the wall by the shoulder. “If you grab her again, you lose the hand and the arm it’s attached to.”
The human looked around Sungchan at you with wide eyes. You nodded firmly in agreement with what your boyfriend had just said. Sounded plenty reasonable to you.
“Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back, we don’t want scumbags for customers,” Jeno growled, folding his arms over his chest.
The human had to wrench his shoulder out from Sungchan’s grip, giving the lot of you a final glare before storming out of the bakery. When you could finally no longer see him, you let out a shaky breath, and Sungchan immediately came over to wrap his arms around you. There was a vein protruding on his forehead that you weren’t used to seeing, and his jaw was still clenched tightly.
“Thanks, Sung.” You pressed yourself into his side, all too happy to be back in his familiar warmth. You weren’t going to forget about your friend that had come to your aid first, though. “You too, Jeno.”
“Yeah, thank you, Jeno.” Sungchan clapped the other werewolf on the back sincerely. “On one hand I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Y/N, but on the other… I’m kind of glad I wasn’t because—”
“You might’ve actually broken his hand if you had been. I know, I know.” Jeno interrupted him humorously, despite how not humorous that outcome would’ve been. Satisfactory in the moment, yes, but ultimately not worth the criminal charges he could’ve pressed against Sungchan. “Try some werewolf meditation apps.”
“They have those?”
“You’ve never had to look into those before. Ha! Mr. Zen Werewolf taking advice on werewolf meditation apps from me! Oh, hold on, she’s going to get a kick out of this one, I’ve got to go tell her.” Jeno pointed to the kitchen over his shoulder with a thumb, turning around and pushing a door open, laughing the whole way back.
As Jeno relayed this hilarious revelation to his girlfriend, Sungchan led you over to a small loveseat in the corner of the bakery, settling the two of you down on it. Judging by the dual cackling laughter now coming from the kitchens, it was going to be a while before you’d be able to get your pastries.
“I know I can’t prevent everything bad ever from happening, but…” Sungchan laced his right hand with your left and rubbed slow circles into your skin with his thumb. “I hope you’ll always let me be there with you after.”
You rested your head on his shoulder, gazing at your lunar rings displaying matching half moons. “Always, Sung. We made a deal, remember?”
“Of course,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
⤷ blog masterlist ⤷ anthology masterlist
#sungchan#sungchan x reader#riize x reader#sungchan imagines#riize imagines#riize#nct x reader#nct#nct imagines#sungchan fluff#riize fluff#nct fluff#i: sungchan#f: love bites#au: strawberry sunday#text#mine#writing#bias tag#*100#*200
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004. SUNDAY’S PARADIGM — ANTHOLOGY
PAIRING. Hwang Hyunjin x gn. reader | WORD COUNT. 2.6k & 15 minute read | SERIES PLAYLIST. | WARNINGS. cursing | TROPE. college au, friends to lovers, she fell first but he fell harder (lmao), fluff
( ✉️ ) — hi everybody! i’m very happy to announce that this is the last addition to my mini-anthology “METANOIA”, thank you so much for the support this far and for so much anticipation and patience along the way— have a wonderful day!!
He was a cold person. Spiteful and brash to all people too close, scared to let his walls down. Except, to him, you’re a spectacle. A classmate he realizes he can’t exactly find reason to dislike while he sketched you from his stool in the art room.
Hyunjin knows your habits.
He knows when you’re talking to someone you like your voice becomes higher, knows you prefer to work alone on certain projects, and that you have a low social battery in public spaces. He knows when you're talking to the professor, when you’re anxious, you hold your arms close to your body.
In fact, Hyunjin may know more about you than your friends do. Except, Hyunjin isn’t your friend, nor a stalker or admirer. He’s just Hyunjin and you’re just Y/n, someone he never gets bored of watching from afar without knowing why.
Perhaps it’s the careful sculpting of your nose, the way your eyes perfectly fit with the rest of your face, rose hued lips curling when you smile. Oftentimes he wonders what shade your lips would be if he watercolor painted them. Dusty or dark, pink, or maybe red. He wonders.
And on occasions, he wonders why you aren’t the model for their class while one hand absentmindedly traces you, seated a few stools ahead of him while his canvas successfully blocks the repeated glances in your direction.
Maybe the endless sketches of you in his notebook are the reason he treats that thing like a porcelain vase, held dearly close to his chest as if a mere drop of water would rot the binding.
Hyunjin doesn’t like his sudden interest in you—doesn’t like how he can’t dislike you compared to his usual stark coldness for everyone and anyone, but he can’t help it.
There’s just something peculiar about you that he can’t put his finger on. He doesn’t like that either. But somehow, he can’t seem to get enough.
.
.
.
His lips pull into a frown, the usual one that unconsciously causes the rest of his face to turn grumpy. Oftentimes, Seungmin (the boy occupying the stool to his left) would snap his fingers just to watch surprise cross Hyunjin’s face for a change. He’s a strange kid.
Noticing a friend of yours stumble into the classroom, he can’t help but repeatedly peer from his work, memorizing the small creases of your clothings fabric onto the canvas.
For a moment, Sana (the girl whose name he finally remembered) pulled a small candy from her pocket and popped it in her mouth, urging you to take one as well.
She doesn’t like that flavor, she likes the strawberry flavor better. He thinks to himself.
And sure enough, after delivering a kind smile, you sneakily shoving the treat into your bag when she turns around. Hyunjin bites back the ghost of a smile creeping onto his lips.
Stupid. This is stupid. He tells himself constantly, but still finds his heart beating faster upon seeing you each day.
Really, really stupid, Hwang Hyunjin.
.. .
“I got it!” Sana shrieks, and you attempt to even your sudden panic as the girl begins gesturing wildly. Perhaps Hyunjin isn’t the only one getting surprised on a daily basis.
Frantically piecing together the thoughts circulating around her caffeine dispenser of a brain, she slams her hands down in front of you, another jump scare.
“He’s a ‘look don’t touch kind of guy’, that’s why every girl wants to be in our department!”
Crickets could’ve chirped in the amount of time you blankly stared at her.
She’s fervently nodding, seeming to have discovered an entirely new world in the process of describing your class spectacle as a ‘look don’t touch’.
“..Einstein would’ve stayed in his grave.”
“Would not,” She retorts, pushing her inky black tresses behind her ear and clasping her hands together. “In fact, he would’ve used all of his stone-dead energy to climb out of his grave just to tell me how smart I am!”
“Now that’s just wrong.”
So after more pouting, more glaring, and more unconvinced stares, you finally rise off the bench, shaking the iced coffee in hand.
It’s your lunch, and you would rather not talk about Hwang Hyunjin, but you might just have to give up even trying to avoid the topic at this point.
You don’t dislike him or anything, it just becomes a tad bit irritating once his name has been brought up forty five times in the last two hours, y’know? Because if there’s one thing Sana was right about, it’s that every girl is obsessed with him. Borderline. Obsessed.
Meanwhile, Hwang Hyunjin has no interest. In fact, Hwang Hyunjin doesn’t seem interested in anyone, nor much of anything. That is, unless it’s art.
Back when you had first taken the class the two of you debated on if he was gay, trying to find something that explained it. Although, by the third week you both concluded he acted like that towards everything.
Well, at least he looked bored.
Hwang Hyunjin was hard to read.
Setting your materials in their coordinating places, you steady the easel in front of you, prepared for Ms. Hoon to burst through the door and demand a new mock-up in five minutes or less. She’s known for being spontaneous in all of the wrong ways.
Except, today, Ms. Hoon saunters in, fingers nimbly adjusting her skirt that hangs close to her ankles—close to her tawny leather boots clicking when she walks. She’s pleased, too pleased.
Sana sends you a look saying the same thing you’re thinking:
We’re fucked.
Whipping a random roster from nowhere, her pointed index slides down names before looking up. Right at you.
“For our end of semester project, I want us to explore new options. I’m assigning all of you in pairs to visit different exhibitions around Seoul. Y/n L/n?”
You raise your hand.
“Your partner is Hwang Hyunjin, you’ll be visiting the National Museum of Korea’s Greece exhibition this Sunday,” She smiles, scarily resembling a Cheshire cat. “Infographics are here.” Ms. Hoon finishes, patting the stack atop the podium.
Never has there been so many eyes boring into your back.
And with that, the students either drag their feet or plow through to grab the papers.
Meanwhile, you’re feeling something only recognizable as impending doom.
You’re fucked.
.. .
Hysterically staring ahead, you flinch when a piece of paper is slipped beside you, forcing your eyes off the board.
Can I get your number? It reads, so when you notice Hyunjin’s name is addressed below, you’re convinced you’ve been trapped in some alternate universe. Mere seconds ago Ms. Hoon assigned partners, or did you miss something inbetween the lines?
Your number? Hwang Hyunjin, asking for your number?
Unbelievable.
Instead of darting for the door like you’d planned earlier though, you wait until the classroom is empty to approach him, looking unfairly handsome as always. But before he can say a word, you form a jumbled sentence through fast-blinking eyelids and manically expressive nods of your head.
“Hyunjin I— I’m sorry I’m flattered but I don’t think of you like tha—“
“Huh? For the project?” He replies, and a hundred tons of steel might as well drop on your head at this rate.
Not only are you fucked, but now you’re fucking yourself. And not on good terms.
Talk about a bad first impression.
Opening your mouth, closing it, and opening it again, you chameleon redder and redder the longer he looks at you, shakily typing your digits into his phone to spin on your heel and march out at an alarming pace.
Although, you don’t see the small quirk of his lips, nor how he named “Pretty Project Partner Y/N” as your contact.
“God I’m such an idiot!” Clutching your head, you prop your elbows on the kitchen island while Sana sifts through Netflix on the sofa. She chortles, but lets you wallow in your misery no less.
It’s your secret language, a coping mechanism in its own, sweetly bitter truth.
The day of and you’re still hung up about Hyunjin. Well, your overwhelming embarrassment about Hyunjin—something that kept you up well throughout the night.
Weird. Since when did you care so much about your impression on him anyway? He’s never been a particular stake in your road, but now he’s the sudden speed bump in every once-peaceful moment.
Your pocket vibrates with a notification.
Funny enough, he seemed to live up to that speed bump role.
Hyunjin : Can I come over? Chan’s a bit.. busy
You : Busy?
Hyunjin : Busy
You : Yikes, come over
Hyunjin : Thanks
Sprinting into the living room, you have to stop yourself, hoping to appear composed to the all-knowing best friend of yours.
“Hey, um, could you run to the convenience store for me?”
What a side-eye. She could slice cheese with that glare.
Number one rule? By no circumstances can you have Sana plotting something. Especially not with Hyunjin involved.
“Are you constipated?”
Here goes your ego.
“I’m in denial.”
She taunts. “You poor thing.”
“Aren’t I?”
“Fine, send me what you want and pay me back.” Waving her off, you take the opportunity to attempt at rationalizing what exactly you’ll do, say, look like, act like, and the other billions and trillions of possibilities you only have a few minutes to think about before he arrives.
Real reassuring.
Hyunjin : I’m here
He sends five minutes later, sequentially leading to your phone dropping on your face, slipping on the rug, and giving yourself a once-over (more like a thrice-over) in the mirror, where you greet him at the door.
First thing your eyes are drawn to are the bouquet of flowers held in hand.
Flowers.
Flowers?!?
“Look, they were on sale and it adds to the atmosphere.” He deliberately avoids your gaze. You don’t mention it.
You never took Hyunjin as the guy bringing you flowers. Come to think of it, you never took Hyunjin as a romantic either. Guess this project is teaching more things than just the philosophy of Michelangelo’s sculptures.
Placing said flowers into a vase you miraculously found in the cabinet above the microwave, you anxiously tap your finger atop your thigh.
It’s awkward, until it isn’t. Because Hyunjin is surprisingly good at small talk.
“Why are you like this to me?” Blurting, you wish you would’ve bitten your tongue. Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind too much.
Instead, he fixates on your face, noting your details as you speak. Dusty red is their color he decides, the watercolor shade matching your lips best.
“Like what?”
“Well,” You meet his eyes. He memorizes that color as well. “You’re just different in class.”
Leaning further into the opposing loveseat, he shrugs.
“For the record, Ms. Hoon wears that awful perfume every day. Not to mention everyone falls asleep anyway.”
He’s not half wrong.
“Aren’t you observant,” You muse, cheekily giggling to yourself.
He rolls his eyes, ears pink nonetheless.
Abruptly interrupting your teasing, there’s a knock, and you haphazardly edge to peer through the peephole, Hyunjin simultaneously tailing behind you.
“Who is it?” He whispers, uncharacteristic to his usual unbothered demeanor.
Shit, it’s Sana!
Already aware she’d find out something was up one way or another, you find yourself with no choice but to slowly open the door, a hand leant against the doorframe, another covering Hyunjin’s mouth where he hides on the wall to your left.
“Hey you better pay me ba- are you okay?” She hesitates, surveying the sweat on your brow and how off-balance you’re standing, plastic bag in clutch.
“Oh yeah, I just remembered! Did you buy the extra bag of potato chips?” Diverting the conversation, you nervously grin, feeling Hyunjin’s hot breath against your palm when he stifled a giggle.
Squinting incredulously, she scrolls through her messages without answering. Shaking the list you sent right in your face, you wrinkle your nose, putting on the best “please? I promise I’ll buy you lunch for a week” face you can muster.
Like you said. Secret language.
Sighing heavily, you thank whomever above when she slumps away and you excitedly slam the door shut, both releasing exhales of relief.
Checking the time, you glimpse outside, making sure the perimeter is Sana-free. You need absolutely no traces.
Great. Coast clear.
“Shhhh!” Shushing him, you carefully lock the door before running out of sight down the hallway at full speed. Bewildered, he chases along, mini ponytail swaying with each stride.
You have to cover your mouth to keep from laughing. Unusually, he’s doing the same.
Your unwavering, certainly monotonous class spectacle is laughing.
He’s pretty.
Wait. Duh.
He’s gorgeous.
Yeah. That fits better.
A soft hue decorates his cheeks, and he stumbles down the stairs like a drunkard. Yet, in the midst of your admiration, your foot slips—more drunkard-esque than him—from beneath you. Before your forehead makes contact with the marble floor though, a hand fastens onto your sleeve.
Hyunjin leans down, brows furrowed worriedly. Also uncharacteristic.
“You okay?” He asks, tone soft, voice concerned.
Responding breathlessly from both your near-death experience and how ungodly close you are to a prince, you meekly nod, allowing the boy to ease you upright.
Dear god what is with you?!
Navigating the exhibition tucked away near a library, neither of you waste time getting to work. So as the sky begins dimming to eve and you briefly think of Sana, likely beyond confused back at the dorm, you curve around to the last sculpture replicated, the world renowned “Bacchus”.
“Greek sculptures are beautiful, aren’t they.” He speaks, voice hollow and hardly audible unless you craned close. His eyes flit to every inch of the statue, taking in the precise attention to detail carving the fingerprints lingering on flesh, specific shadows emphasizing pained expressions or that of happiness, fingernails so deliberately intricate it terrifies you.
Hyunjin has a way of leaving you breathless.
“Yeah..” You mutter, scribbling some messy bullet points and getting a decent basis on the overall anatomy of the sculpture.
You often wonder how such masterpieces have remained perfectly intact after countless years. You wonder if Hyunjin is like that too. That, even if you got close to him, he’d stay the same. Bitter, uninviting. To others at least.
To you, he’s different. You like it.
Or, he’d change.
Perhaps become sweeter, lace his tongue in honey when he spoke to you.
You quickly force the thought away.
However, what you don’t realize is that you leave Hyunjin breathless all the same. Because with your attention being elsewhere (for a second occasion), you hadn’t noticed his gaze landing on you when he said beautiful.
.. .
Hyunjin is a gentleman. And in all honesty, this occasion, despite the fact you’re simply visiting an exhibition, feels more like a date than anything.
He’s geared you to the left of him while he shields the road on your walk home, he brought flowers, and even saved you from a catastrophe. You’d count that as a pretty gentleman-type move.
Arriving at your complex and promising to text more details to each other tomorrow, his hand—stirring déjà vú in your stomach—grasps your sleeve for a second time.
Gently turning you around, his thumb reaches up to lightly press against your bottom lip, index hooked beneath your chin.
You’re certain you’ve forgotten to breathe by now.
“Hyunjin.. What're you doing….?” You hesitantly drag out, phrase muffled.
Absentmindedly clicking his tongue, he maneuvers your head left and right, a slow smile crawling onto his cheeks upon witnessing your flustered state.
“Making sure I get the color right,” He responds nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t mere centimeters away from your lips.
Dusty red, he was right.
Leaning his head down with a small tilt, his breath barely ghosts over your face, mischievous smirk beginning to grate your nerves the longer he holds that smug cockiness.
“See you tomorrow?” He muses, shoving cold hands into his pockets while ensuring you get inside safely.
“Yeah Yeah..” You grumble, praying he doesn’t notice you trip up the stairs, mind buzzing wildly.
He does, and he laughs.
Hyunjin knew your habits, and now, in the middle of your coincidentally ideal project, he finds himself learning again and again. There’s so much to you, so many layers he hopes to uncover, so much that becomes hard not falling for.
He can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
.
.
.
“Y/n?”
Sana knocks on your room’s door. You hum in acknowledgement.
“Where did you get those flowers?”
> SERIES TAGLIST. @phtogravi @liknws @luckieleaf @jhstayy @meloncremesoda @chans1aptop @eternitywaveshello @meanergreener @ladylexis @love-gy-u @hanjingin @idkluvutellme @dark-anxel @yubinism @rachabreathing @seung-scrittore @fylithia @skzsupremacy @alrm02 @ener-energy @koliki @anskiiz @dprkbyn @bellamuerte1987 @ylixbok @hanjisung-enjoyer @youngunknownwitch @hwangflora @starlost-andfound @taeriffic @flwerfield
sunboki, may 2022 ©
#stray kids x reader#straykids x you#straykids x reader#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#skz fluff#skz angst#straykids angst#straykids fluff#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff#hwang hyunjin x you#skz hwang hyunjin#hwang hyunjin angst#hwang hyunjin fluff#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x y/n#skz hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin angst#straykids hyunjin#hyunjin x you
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National Lemonade Day
Warm weather means lots of good things—but it also means more thirst! Quench it with one of the world’s most refreshing drinks, the ever-popular lemonade.
A tall, icy glass of yellow (or pink!) lemonade is refreshing and terrific no matter what time of year. However, it does have particular benefits when consumed on a super hot, super sticky summer day.
National Lemonade Day celebrates the long-standing tradition of drinking lemonade and opening lemonade stands. It encourages others to celebrate too, by supporting these children in their business. Whether it’s for a charity cause or for that very special thing that child wants to earn for themselves, National Lemonade Day is all about drinking lemonade and having a good time.
Sweet but tart, and perfectly refreshing, National Lemonade Day celebrates everything wonderful about this delicious beverage!
History of National Lemonade Day
Lemonade stands have been a traditional American pastime, but when did this tradition start? Lemonade has always been a popular beverage since its invention, and children benefit from lemonade stands by learning many things about how to open and fun a business.
But it would probably be wise to go back further and start at the beginning with the well-known fruit itself, the lemon! Lemons were originally discovered around 1st century AD when the Romans and Greeks established routes to India, where this yellow, tart citrus fruit is believed to have first originated.
After its discovery in India, the cultivation of lemons began to spread to the Middle East and throughout Southern Europe, where the climate was still hospitable for growing the lemon trees. During this time, lemons were considered a bit of a luxury item in cooking as well as in decoration.
The activity of squeezing the juice from the lemon to make ‘lemonade’ probably happened in the Mediterranean region during the 13th century and was considered medicinal. And it probably didn’t taste sweet the way we expect it today! However, because lemons are so filled with Vitamin C and other healthy nutrients, it is easy to see why it would have been used for its important health benefits.
Lemonade is believed to have been introduced to America by European settlers in the 17th century. It wasn’t until the beginning of the industrial revolution that lemonade stands would become a popular way of teaching children about leadership and money.
National Lemonade Day was founded by Lisa and Michael Holthouse in 2007 to honor the way lemonade stands are a useful tool to teach children about running a business. The tagline says it all: Teaching Kids the Power of Entrepreneurship.
Lisa Holthouse was inspired to create this holiday by a time in her childhood when she wanted a pet turtle. Her father helped her set up a lemonade stand to raise money to buy the animal herself. Since then, over 250,000 children take part in this fun celebration each and every year!
How to Celebrate National Lemonade Day
The celebration of National Lemonade Day can come in all shapes and sizes–from kids to adults! Try these ideas for enjoying the day:
Visit a Lemonade Stand
Support children everywhere by purchasing lemonade from their stands! Purchasing a lemonade can help build the confidence of a child, helping them understand the value of money and even learn lessons about being in a small business.
By purchasing a lemonade, this simple act can potentially inspire future business leaders.
Whether the money is for the child or for a charity, lemonade stands can be a great way to give back to your community. When they experience success children can become inspired to be amazing people. Share this holiday with your friends and family and spread the love for lemonade!
Help a Child Set Up a Lemonade Stand
Throughout the day, children learn valuable lessons about responsibility, finances, and setting goals and the importance of teamwork. People in their local communities support these children by getting a delicious drink in hand.
If you have a child, this might be a great day to help them set up a lemonade stand to teach them about business and money. But people without children can get involved too!
Whether encouraging a family member or neighbor kid, helping a child set up and run a lemonade stand teaches children planning skills, the value of money, patience (when waiting for customers to come!) and the enjoyment of interacting with the public.
Participation in this holiday is free and can be registered through the National Lemonade Day website. Children in cities all throughout US territories and Canada participate, from up north in Alaska to all the way down to Puerto Rico! Kids can add their stand to the map so they can be found by local people in order to drive their business.
After the day, success stories about kids who have made and met goals can be shared on the website for encouragement and inspiration!
Enjoy a Cool Glass of Lemonade
Even if there are no children or lemonade stands nearby, that doesn’t mean National Lemonade Day needs to go unnoticed or uncelebrated! Whether hand squeezing some lemons and adding sugar and water to create a freshly squeezed glass of goodness, or grabbing a lemonade at a local restaurant, participating with an enjoyable beverage is a great way to honor the day!
Some restaurants even offer discounted or free lemonade on the day, often combining the effort with donations to various charities.
Louisiana-based Raising Cane’s Chicken Fingers is appreciated for their sweet but tart lemonade, and they have been known to hold charity events related to National Lemonade Day in the past. Red Robin is another American restaurant chain that has celebrated by offering free lemonade samples and giving money to charity.
National Lemonade Day is a great day to enjoy a tall glass of lemonade and do something good for someone else!
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#Kentucky Crush Lemonade#Strawberry Lemonade#National Lemonade Day#NationalLemonadeDay#first Sunday in May#1 May 2022#street food#restaurant#don't drink and drive#frozen lemonade#Tim Hortons#travel#Dunkin' Donuts#Au Bon Pain#Canadian Maple Donut#Boston Cream Donut#Strawberry Donut#ice coffee#JW's Pink Lemonade
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Gator Tillman x Fem! Reader
Valentine's Day Blurb from the Badge Bunny AU
Valentine's Day is one of your favorite holidays! You're a little bratty when you think things aren't going your way. Gator takes matters into his own hands.
Special thanks to @starksbabie for all your help! 😘
18+ Only! Minors DNI!
Warnings: Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Fluffy and sweet moments. Porn with plot. A little bit of Dom!Gator/Sub!Reader. Spanking. A hint of orgasm denial. P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Creampie.
Word Count: 3K
Valentine's Day was a few days away. One of the few holidays you secretly enjoyed.
That bitchy facade you carried around melted away this time of year. You'd had boyfriends in the past that went all out. Roses, fancy restaurants, some nice jewelry.
In no way were you expecting that this year. Gator was not a mushy, lovesick puppy that followed you around. He was very rough around the edges, but he could surprise you with how gentle he could be.
You weren't even sure if he remembered what day it was, having to remind him when Halloween was this past fall. Maybe it was the way he was brought up. Roy only recognizing Christian holidays in his household when Gator was a child.
Henry was letting you decorate the bar to your liking. Paper hearts on walls. Red and pink garland strung about.
He just shook his head putting some more glasses away as you hummed to yourself hanging another paper mâché heart from the ceiling.
It was a slow lunch giving you plenty of time to decorate.
“What do ya’ think, Henry?” You called over to him.
“I think it looks like some lovesick fool threw up in here, but it could be worse.” He chuckled, heading to the back once more.
It was then your lovesick fool walked in the door, the little bell above his head announcing his arrival as you caught his eye. Grin plastered across his handsome face at seeing you.
“Hey baby!” You shouted, climbing down from the ladder to meet him, throwing your arms around his neck for a hug and a quick peck.
“Hey sweet thing.” He had his arm slung around your waist, keeping you close to him. “Look at this place. All your doing, huh? Bunny has a heart after all.”
He laughed as you batted his chest, moving out of his grasp.
“Oh stop, you'll ruin my reputation saying shit like that.” You moved to go get him his usual Mt Dew as he sat in a booth.
“No Andy today?” Sitting the soda in front of him as he grabbed a straw from the front of your apron.
“Nah, he's off. Takin' his fiancé away for the weekend.” You nodded, thinking it must be nice.
You'd secretly held out a little hope he might surprise you with something.
The 14th rolled around. It was a beautiful Sunday morning. Picturesque. No snow today and the sun was shining.
You'd slept in. Gator saying that he had something to do a little later but kept tight lipped about it, as usual.
You eased out of bed, letting him sleep in a little longer. You'd been waiting to surprise him all week.
You made heart shaped pancakes, burning the first few and throwing the evidence promptly into the bottom of the trashcan. Hoping like hell you didn't set the smoke alarm off ruining the morning.
Adding chocolate chips to his and fresh strawberries to yours, they were finally done.
You'd just finished setting the plates down when you heard your bedroom door finally swing open. He grumbled, making his way down the hall.
Sleep mussed hair sticking up and across his forehead, eyes barely opened as he blinked when he noticed the table was set.
“What's all this then?” He asked, with a groggy voice.
You smiled, “It's for you. Happy Valentine's Day!”
“You did all this for me?” He grinned, looking over the table and looking back at you. Your hands splayed on your hips, thoroughly proud of yourself.
He rounded the table, pulling you in by your hips kissing you softly.
“I'm so glad you didn't burn the house down.” Chuckling as he pulled away.
“Shut up.” You giggled along, pushing him toward the table. “Sit down, before it gets too cold.”
He immediately grabs the syrup, eyes twinkling like a kid on Christmas morning, smothering his cakes with the sticky sweetness.
It made you wonder how many times growing up he actually got to indulge himself as he took the first bite, humming around his fork.
“Bunny, these are fuckin' amazing.” Saying, around another mouthful.
You smiled, as you dug into your own plate.
He wolfed down a second helping before cussing to himself checking the time.
“Fuck. I've got to get a shower.” He huffed, putting his cleared plate in the sink, kissing your cheek before heading down the hall.
That blissful little bubble you created burst. Duty calls… again.
“I love ya’ Bun. See you this afternoon.” Kissing your cheek once again and he was out the door, while your hands were deep in the sink washing the dishes from this morning.
You typically had Sundays off to laze about. This one was no different. Tidying the house up a bit before watching a little reality TV to pass the time.
You definitely weren't trying to distract your thoughts of Gator leaving without so much as a cheesy card or even a box of chocolates for you. You'd seen half expected one of those gas station roses that were actually thongs rolled up to look like a rose. At least that would mean he actually thought about it.
It's a stupid, made-up holiday, right? At least that's what you kept telling yourself.
You'd grown a little more frustrated as the day went on.
You finally got a text from him a couple hours after he left.
Should be back in about an hour. We have the afternoon to do whatever you want.
You just responded with a quick “sure,” leaning back onto the couch cushions making yourself more comfortable.
The rumble of the truck engine pulling in woke you. You’d drifted off after texting him back, finding the couch much too comfortable and the TV a relaxing background noise.
He shot through the front door, immediately clocking your messy hair and half lidded eyes.
“Take a nap, sweet thing?” Coming over, rubbing his knuckles across your cheek.
“So, what if I did?” You grumbled.
“You're always grumpy when ya’ wake up.” Planting a kiss to your forehead. “Did you wanna go out later?”
“No.” You shook your head, running the back of your hand across your eyes.
“No? Thought today was your favorite?” He grinned.
“Yeah, but you don't seem to care about it so neither should I.” Throwing the blanket off you, as you stood.
He rolled his eyes, letting a hard breath out through his nose, knowing exactly where this was heading when you'd sent that text.
“So that's it, huh?” Following you down the hall. “Thought I just forgot about it? Bunny, you should know me better than that by now.”
You huffed a laugh. “Do I? Not so much as morning fuck? I mean I thought I would at least get that. You jump at any chance to get your dick wet any other day. No stupid holiday needed.”
“God, you are such a fuckin' brat when you don't get your way.” He grabbed your arm, making you turn to face him. “I had some shit to do. I couldn't just bend you over the table and fuck you over the pancakes, could I?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him even as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.
“Bunny, quit with the fuckin' attitude or I'll make you quit.” His voice was a little more gravely, going straight to your core knowing exactly what that meant.
A game you usually liked to play. Pushing his buttons until he caved, being a little rougher than usual. Spanking your ass until you were welted, then railing you into oblivion.
“No Gator, I'm not in the fucking mood for your shit right now.” You tried to wrench out of his grasp, but he held you tight.
He leveled his gaze, “Oh, but I bet you are. Bet she's already drooling f’me. Need me to bend ya’ over my knee? Give you somethin’ to whine about?”
His hand traveled from your lower back to your ass, grabbing a handful before pulling off coming back down with a harsh smack.
“Ahhh, Gator!” You arched forward, hands planting firmly on his chest. You looked up when he hissed at the contact.
“What was that?” Running your hands across his clothed chest. He grabbed your hand, keeping it in place.
“Maybe if you weren't bein’ such a whiney ass, I would show ya’. I uh… I got a little surprise.” He grinned, crooked smile that you adore plastered across his face.
“Show me then.” You whispered. “I'll be good. Promise.” Looking up through your lashes, doe eyes he couldn't resist.
“Fine.” Stepping back, removing his jacket.
His fingers reached the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, your eyes trailing his toned stomach up to his chest. His left peck was partially covered at the top.
“You got a new tattoo?” You deadpanned. This is what he had to do today?
“Really Gator?” Voice showing no hint of amusement.
“Yeah. For you babe.” He lifted the tape at the edges to slowly reveal his new ink. Bunny was written there with a Playboy bunny graphic.
“What? You don't like it?”
“It's not even my name. At least I have your name. And the Playboy bunny? Seriously?” You laughed out, but when you looked back at him, he almost looked hurt.
“It's what I call you. You're my Bunny, that's never going to change.” He huffed out while you were still laughing. “You know what, I'm done with this fuckin’ attitude. Bend over the table.”
“Now.” He added, when you didn't move.
Shit. You knew the tone. You'd pushed too far.
“Gator, I…” You stopped when you looked back into his eyes that were almost black.
“Bend. Over. The. Table. I'm not going to tell you again.” There was a glint in his eye, followed by a devilish smirk.
You quickly nodded, padding over quickly. Planting your hands firmly on the wooden tabletop as you bent at the waist, pushing your ass up into the air barely covered by your sleep shorts.
His boots loud against the linoleum flooring as he came to stand behind you. Close enough you can feel the heat radiating from him but barely grazing you.
He brings his large palm to rest on your cheek, kneading it softly only for a moment. You knew it was coming.
He landed one hard smack, jolting you forward, the edge of the table already digging into your thighs as you let out a soft moan.
He quickly slid his hand back over your ass, soothing the burn slightly. He bent over to get close to you, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he spoke.
“You wanted this, huh? A heavy hand and a hard cock fixes you right up, huh sweet thing?” He kisses your temple before continuing.
He slid his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts pushing them down past your thighs as they pool in the floor around your feet.
You knew the drill, as you leaned over dropping to your elbows to brace yourself anticipating another heavy blow that didn't come. Instead, you rocked forward when he ran a finger up through your folds.
You let another wanton moan slip past your lips as his thick digit circled your entrance.
“Fuck, you're soaked,” pushing in slightly, before moving it quickly away. “You didn't think it'd be that easy, did ya’?”
Another hard smack to the other cheek.
“Fuck Bunny, how many you need? 10 more? 20?” You whimpered at his words.
“I… I don't know, sir.” Your voice came out a little weak, already sounding wrecked.
“Fuck, she's got manners.” He growled. You used that title sparingly, but he fucking loved it. Hearing “sir” roll off your lips in that sultry tone made him weak in the knees.
“We’ll do ten since you're being such a good girl. Count em.”
“Yes sir.” You hummed, as he laid one more smack to each cheek.
“Two.” You huffed. The welts were already forming.
“Three.” You bit your lip briefly, distracting you from the sting.
“Four… mmhmm five.” A tear rolled down your cheek.
“Six. Fuck.” Your nails dig into the surface of the table, trying to grasp anything to ground you.
“Seven. Eight. Nine.” In quick succession, as your legs started to give out, knees buckling as your thighs shook.
One last smack sent you reeling.
“Ten.” You choked out.
“That's it baby. Now, let me take care of you and this pretty cunt.” He said, undoing his pants taking his aching length from its confinements.
Pulling your hips up, he gave you no warning before his cock was nudging your sopping entrance. He pushed in slightly before completely burying himself to the hilt in one swift motion. There was no resistance with how wet you were.
“Fuck, Gator.” You hissed out but arched your ass further into him. The sting of being stretched out so suddenly, almost borderline painful, had a few more tears running down your cheeks as your pussy clenched around him.
“Fuck, always so goddamn tight. Fuckin' pussy was made f’me.” He pushed you down, hand between your shoulder blades, cheek now resting on the cool surface of the table.
He pulled back, only to snap his hips immediately back into yours with such force the table scooted across the floor.
He set a brutal pace, your moans were high pitched and whiny. The angle had your ass further in the air and his cock hitting that sweet spongy spot with each thrust. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold back your orgasm if he kept going.
Your arousal was dripping down your thighs, and coating his balls that were slapping at your puffy clit with each rock of his hips. The sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the walls in the small space.
“Sir, please. I'm going to… Can I please… “ you were begging, as it was building. That pressure slowly creeps up your lower belly, tingling up your spine.
“No, Bunny!” He growled, fingertips digging further into your hips pulling you back in time with his thrusts.
“Gator, I'm… I can't.” You sobbed, trying to pull in a deep breath.
“No, baby just wait. I'm… fuck … almost there.”
Your teeth sank into your lower lip, as your pussy began to clench around him.
“Gator, please, fuck…” you cried out.
“Come on Bunny, come on my cock.”
No sooner than he got the words out, the damn inside you broke. Clamping down around his cock, as he began to fill you full. Your eyes were shut tight, fireworks exploding behind them.
Your walls pulsed around him, milking every last drop, as he let out a string of incoherent words before collapsing against your back.
“Goddamn Bunny,” he panted as his cock kicked up within you one last time making you whimper.
He gently moved off you, removing himself, holding your hips steady as you got your feet under you. You knew you'd feel this one for a few days to come.
He pulled you up, as you wrapped your arms around his neck completely blissed out, eyes half lidded as he smoothed the hair from your face.
“Feel better?” He chuckled lightly.
“Mhmm… much.” You hummed.
“Good, sweet thing. Now go take a fuckin' shower and get dressed. I've got a surprise for my girl.” His grin grew wide with your confused expression.
“You really thought I'd forget Valentine's Day? After everything you did for me? Everything you do for me?”
You smiled, looking down at his new tattoo.
“Thought this was my gift?” you giggled, tracing just under the new ink. It was endearing. He wanted to match what you'd gifted him this past Christmas.
“Part of it, yeah. Now come on.” He pecks your lips, before dragging you down the hall.
You showered, examining the angry, hand shaped welts on your ass in the mirror, knowing it would be a pain to sit on any hard surface for a couple of days, but it was worth it. You just smiled to yourself, wrapping a towel around you.
You were standing in front of the mirror when he came to stand in the doorway, watching your after shower routine.
You could feel his gaze as you met his eyes through the mirror.
“What?” You smiled up at him.
“Just thinking how pretty y’are. But I feel like something's missin’.”
He moved his hand from behind his back revealing a small velvet box.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
“What's that handsome?” You tried to speak evenly though your heart was beating so hard you thought he might hear.
“Close your eyes.” You gave him a pointed look. “C’mon. You'll like it.”
You slid them closed, as he walked behind you. You felt the coolness of a thin chain come to rest on your collar bones. You breathed just a tiny sigh of relief, as he clasped it to, kissing your bare shoulder.
“Perfect.” He said as you opened your eyes, a tiny gold chain that held his initial “G” hung delicately around your neck as you examined it thoughtfully tracing the small letter with your fingertip.
“You don't like it?” He deflated a bit when you didn't say anything.
“It's perfect baby.” You turned around pulling him in for a kiss.
“Promise?” He pulled back, slightly, lips ghosting yours.
“Promise.” You giggled.
“Good, since you won't let me knock ya' up, at least this way everyone’ll know your mine.” You rolled your eyes, hand batting at his chest as he laughed.
“God, you're ridiculous.” Pulling him in by the collar for another kiss. “Ruining a perfectly sweet moment with that damn mouth.”
He let you finish getting ready, then drove you to the little diner you frequented weekly. Sharing a couple of burgers and milkshakes, it was the perfect way to end the day.
“Happy Valentine's Day Bunny.” He grinned, catching the glint of his initial on display for all to see, as he held your hand from across the table.
#gator smut#gator tillman#gator tillman smut#gator tillman fanfic#gator tillman x you#🐊#gator tillman x reader#gator tillman x female reader#gator tillman x bunny#badge bunny series#gator tillman x badge bunny#joe keery#fargo s5
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Stupid but mine
☆ characters: hermes’ son!haechan & apollo’s daughter!you
☆ genre: percy jackson au, humour
☆ warnings: physical fight, mention of blood and injury
☆ request: FWS24. form this prompt list
☆ summary: Haechan is always ready to defend your honour, even if it means he needs to fight one of Ares’ annoying sons
☆ words: 1,6k
☆ dedicated to: @dat-town ♥
You had known Haechan since you had been ten; he had been the first person who had pissed you off when your mother had sent you to Camp Half-Blood to spare the rest of your family from possible monster attacks. You might not have been as smart as Athene’s children nor could you have read emotions as easily as the kids in the Aphrodite cabin, but from your first day at the demigod training facility on Long Island, it had been painfully obvious to you that it had never been about your safety. And that had turned you into an angry and rude teenager, who hadn’t known when to shut up or retreat. You would never regret punching the boy in the face for his comment on your emo eyeliner.
You had never regretted becoming his best friend, either, though the latter had taken a lot of time, convincing and a life or death situation that had turned the entire camp into a bloody battlefield two weeks before your sixteenth birthday. Gosh, the smug look on his face when you had ugly cried next to his not-so-unconscious body in the infirmary had burnt into your brain. You were pretty sure that, up to this day, he hadn’t forgotten about it, either.
Offering one of the strawberry cupcakes on your tray to the gods, you almost fell head first into the altar when a large body crashed against yours; you hated how you didn’t even have to turn towards the culprit to know who found joy in messing with you. When you had applied for the vacant camp instructor positions at the end of your last summer at Camp Half-Blood - which had already been three years ago - you hadn’t thought much about whom you would have needed to work together with in the future, and you cursed yourself for overlooking the possibility of numerous summers in Yuta’s company at least three times a week. The demigod was a pain in the ass, a man on a mission to raise your blood pressure for no goddamn reason. For Zeus’ sake. He was so annoying. Wasn’t it time for him to grow up?
‘Hey, asshole!’ Your best friend’s angry voice came from somewhere behind you, and you closed your eyes for a second to ground yourself. You knew… you just knew that all hell was about to break loose. Because as much as you appreciated him for always having your back, Lee Haechan hadn’t grown up yet, either, despite working as an instructor in a camp full of young kids and teenagers.
‘And here comes the self-proclaimed hero,’ Yuta mused, mockery thick in his voice, which only fueled Haechan’s frustration. Sliding your gaze from one to the other, you wondered whether you should have turned a blind eye on the upcoming disaster for once or stick around in case someone got hurt. You wished you could have walked away without feeling guilty. It would have made your life that much easier. ‘What do you want, Lee?’
‘Hm, dunno. An apology for a starter doesn’t sound so bad,’ Haechan retorted immediately after he inserted himself between the two of you. You could see people starting to pay more attention to your group. Though, there were many campers who took one pitiful look at the guys and decided they weren’t interested.
Their disinterest spoke volumes. These two had already caused more commotions this year than the previous one and September was still five weeks away. You let out a resigned sigh.
‘You know the two of you aren’t actually together?’ Yuta scoffed, the smirk in the corner of his mouth mocking as he was clearly trying to push Haechan’s buttons. ‘The Aphrodite girls were messing with your wine.’
The memories from last Sunday washed over you in way too vivid waves; the kiss you had shared with Haechan was something you had tried to ignore ever since you had woken up the next morning. You pressed your lips into a firm line to swallow back a careless comeback. You were afraid it might have caused more harm than good if you had admitted that you had enjoyed the soft touch of your best friend’s lips against your own.
‘I said apologise to her for pushing her into the altar on purpose,’ Haechan stood his ground, his appearance surprisingly level-headed, although for someone like you, who had known him over a decade, it was obvious that he was fuming inside. Unfortunately, Yuta had spent as many summers in Camp Half-Blood as the two of you if not more (you had never bothered to ask), so he saw right through Hermes’ son.
‘You’re not my boss. If anything, you should be the one following my orders,’ Yuta retorted, chuckling with a wide smile to rile the other demigod up.
You took it as a sign to stand between the two, blocking the older’s line of sight as much as you could with your petite body. Why did Haechan have to grow so tall? When you had been eleven, you had been almost a head taller than him.
‘Like hell I would,’ your best friend spat, putting his hand on your shoulder before he slowly, gently pushed you behind his back. ‘Don’t make me kick your ass in front of all these kids. Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t apologise,’ Haechan claimed as he walked up to Yuta and poked his chest once, twice, three times.
‘My ass? Really? I will make you eat your words before you have the chance to pull your sword out of its sheath, baby boy,’ Yuta taunted and for the nth time since you had become a camp instructor, you wondered why you hadn’t quitted the moment you had realised Yuta and Haechan had also gotten the same position. Could you have been a masochist at heart?
Or an idiot, maybe. You should have dressed in a clown costume for Justin’s infamous party this Halloween.
‘It’s so on,’ Haechan exclaimed and the two were out the Dining Pavilion before you could have taken your first bite from your strawberry cupcake or said as much as:
‘That’s a very stupid idea.’
Not because you didn’t believe in your best friend - Haechan was surprisingly good with swords -, but because how else would you have described a deliberate one-on-one duel with one of Ares’ most ruthless sons. Haechan must have lost his mind to not see how idiotic of an idea it was. You swore he was the reason you were losing so much hair these days because of the constant stress he was putting you through.
Abandoning your lunch, you did grab two pieces of cupcakes before you ran after the idiots, which meant you made it in time to hear Haechan brag about his speed and those muscles he had indeed put on in the past years. Hell, he was so confident, for a second you believed he would defy all odds and teach Yuta a lesson.
Instead, he found himself on the ground in less than forty seconds; your heart skipped a beat and you forgot to breathe when the sword fell out of his hand. He looked so miserable.
‘Yuta, that’s enough,’ you stood between the point of his sword and Haechan’s ass, flinching at the stinging feeling of the blade scratching your cheek. The cut was small enough to not faze your audience, but deep enough to draw blood, which was seriously annoying as you knew it would leave a scar. Your skin was too sensitive not to; you still had acne scars on your chin from months ago that hadn’t gone away.
Your staring contest with Yuta ended with the boy’s arm falling back by his side and a quiet apology that sounded more like a mockery than an actual display of worry and regret. It was fine with you, though. You hadn’t needed his apology to begin with.
You didn’t wait for the crowd to disperse; in spite of how common these disputes were in the camp, there were always a couple of spectators who lingered. You would have been careless to waste even just a couple of seconds on them when Haechan’s heavy breathing got more and more uneven. You had to act fast.
So you turned around and crouched down next to his body. The soothing balm you had made of herbs that grew in the forest surrounding the camp was in your hand in a blink of an eye. Being the daughter of the Greek god of healing (and poetry, music, knowledge and a dozen of random things people would have bragged about on their CVs these days) sure had its perks. After all, your talent with medicine might have been inherited.
‘Next th… next time he will think th… twice before he’s rh… rude to you,’ your stupid best friend forced through his teeth, his smile pained but genuine, which made you feel conflicted and bothered. Hadn’t he realised yet that he had more than probably fractured his ribs? You didn’t have to take off his uniform to know the bruises on his chest were nasty. Yuta had made sure to make confetti out of his ugly, orange tee.
‘Sure he will,’ you mocked, sarcasm dripping from your retort, so that Haechan could feel your disapproval even if he missed your eye roll.
And no, you did NOT blush like a schoolgirl just because he had said that. Just because defending your honour was clearly more important to him than his own well-being. It wasn’t romantic. No, it was idiotic. He was an idiot.
But god, he was your idiot. And you loved him more than you let him in on.
the end.
#haechan#lee donghyuck#haechan x you#donghyuck x you#haechan x reader#donghyuck x reader#ssbyme#nct dream scenarios#nct dream x you#nct dream x reader#nct scenarios#percy jackson au#humour#greek gods au
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– 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚? ♡
tags: genshin boys x fem!reader, flatmates au
premise: in which you ask him to get you a snack from the fridge, but don’t specify what kind
characters: diluc, xiao, itto, kazuha, childe, ayato
genre: fluff
diluc, who brings you a dark chocolate bar. he didn’t look thrilled at the idea of having to pause his game of final fantasy 7 just to get you a snack from the fridge, even telling you to “go get it yourself” at first, but the disappointment on your face sent him off - while rolling his eyes and sighing, of course - to begrudgingly open the fridge and grab the first snack he set his eyes upon.
xiao, who brings you a matcha bun (after heating it up in the oven). he was initially puzzled at your request - you don’t usually ask him to do things for you - but got up from the sofa he was sitting at while watching avatar: tla anyway. he took one look at the fluffy matcha bun lying untouched in the fridge and decided that it would make a decent snack for a sweet-toothed maniac like you, grabbing a plate of cold almond tofu for himself while he was at it.
itto, who brought you a bowl of milk and cereal. he was actually willing to pause his game of mario kart 8 on the switch (he came in last, for the record) to go fetch you an elaborate treat that was both fun and traditional; much like everything that itto was himself. he ended up handing you a colorful bowl of lucky charms drenched in chilled hokkaido milk - the perfect snack for a lazy sunday afternoon.
kazuha, who brought you a couple of ripe, juicy oranges to share. he’d just been to the market earlier that day and was more than willing to get up to let you have a taste. he had a habit of sharing the fruits he purchased at the weekly harvest festivals with you, but had tragically forgotten about them when he saw your face that morning. you sit and enjoy the sweet, tender oranges while watching an episode of horimiya on the couch.
childe, who brought you a strawberry smoothie. he looked unwilling to pause riverdale (which he claimed he was only watching “ironically”) at first, but got up nevertheless to make you a strawberry smoothie with the blender he’d mysteriously acquired a few days ago. how he’d gotten his hands on that blender - you may never know.
ayato, who brings you a tomato salad. a sucker for nutrition, you often catch him stashing all kinds of salad ingredients in the fridge without warning, but you can’t deny it’s one of the best salads you’ve had in a while. if there’s anything that man can’t do - it’s make a bad salad. you both chomp down on the delightful tomatoes in front of you as he resumes reading the naver webtoon on his phone.
a/n: aka genshin boys and their various forms of pop culture entertainment
✧ starfellforyou
#genshin impact#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin hcs#genshin headcanons#genshin x y/n#xiao x reader#ayato x reader#diluc x reader#childe x reader#kaeya x reader#itto x reader#xiao#kamisato ayato#diluc ragnvindr#childe#kaeya#arataki itto#itto#diluc#tartaglia#ayato#tartaglia x reader#kazuha#kaedehara kazuha#kazuha x reader#genshin imagines
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⋆⁺₊⋆NCT MASTER LIST ⋆⁺₊⋆
pt. 1
( 🔞 18+ smut 🧸 fluff 💋 suggestive )
✨note: here you will find writing for the 10 eldest members! In part two 👇🏼 you’ll find the 10 youngest members!
⭐️ note 2: please let it be known that this is only part 1 for part 2 the link is here
✨ main master list: here
requests are open! ⭐️
🌕 MOON TAEIL: 1 WORK IN THE MAKING!
🐱 JOHNNY SUH:
Confession Letter: Johnny Suh
↪︎.3k words
↪︎ college student Johnny, reader insert, mention of stalking
↪︎ Synopsis: you give him a confession letter and he ends up being a stalker…
When He Replaces You: Johnny Suh
↪︎ 1.6k words
↪︎ non idol Johnny, reader insert, angst
↪︎ Synopsis: where Johnny kept going to the cafe you worked at after everything ended
💋Angel: JOHNNY SUH
↪︎ 703 words
↪︎ angel! Johnny x ngs! reader, suggestive context about the one-night stand and the memories from that night they had together
↪︎synopsis: you had a one-night stand with angel! Johnny, to which you try to leave without him noticing, but he ends up cornering you ;)
🔞Birthday Surpirse: JOHNNY SUH
↪︎ 1.7k words
↪︎ idol! Johnny x afab! reader, smut, fluff, romance, established relationship, Johnny getting blind folded, oral (m), unprotected sex (y’all wrap it up pls), dick riding, dom Johnny, sub reader, daddy count (1), dirty talk, Johnny coming inside of reader, pet names; hers: angel, baby; his: baby
↪︎synopsis: you give Johnny a birthday surprise 🎁
🌹 LEE TAEYONG:
Saved: Lee Taeyong
↪︎ .6k words
↪︎ taeyong, reader insert, publicly being embarrassed, romance, fluff-ish
↪︎ Synopsis: where he saves you from embarrassment
🐙 NAKAMOTO YUTA:
Music Taste: Nakamoto Yuta
↪︎ .6k words
↪︎ non specific pairing, comedy, idol group NCT 127, second hand embarrassment,
↪︎ Synopsis: he likes the taste of your music
🔞Caught: Nakamoto Yuta
↪︎ 1k words
↪︎ NCT college au, heavy make outs, hickies, dry hunping, almost oral (f receiving), getting caught, smut
↪︎ Synopsis: you were heading to bed when you head a thump upstairs.
Burn: DOYOUNG & YUTA
↪︎ 697 words
↪︎ yandere yuta and doyoung, reader insert, angst, panic attacks, indecisive thoughts, manipulation
↪︎ Synopsis: they kidnap you and you have consent panic attacks
💋Tongue Piercing: NAKAMOTO YUTA
↪︎ 506 words
↪︎ idol yuta, reader insert, comedy, suggestive context about the piercing
↪︎ Synopsis: where you tell yuta about the speculations NCTzens have been making about a supposed tongue piercing, to which he admits.
💋 YUTA AS A ROCKSTAR:
↪︎ rockstar! yuta x afab! reader
🐻 QIAN KUN:
Excuse Me?: Qian Kun
↪︎ .7k words
↪︎ idol kun, reader insert, comedy, sexual tension
↪︎ Synopsis: you were caught saying something the moment he walked into the room.
🐰 KIM DOYOUNG:
🔞 I Just Wanna Be Yours: Kim Doyoung
↪︎ 5k words
↪︎ idol doyoung, reader insert, smut, angst, best friends to lovers, believing feelings are one sided, slight mention of an abusive adult, drinking and getting “drunk,” mention of sleeping with idols, make out, hickies, biting, oral (f receiving), fingering, sex without condom (y’all wrap that shit up we don’t want anything), call count of 3 times for daddy, after care.
↪︎ Synopsis: Upon getting drunk with one another, true feelings come spilling out.
Burn: DOYOUNG & YUTA
↪︎ 697 words
↪︎ yandere yuta and doyoung, reader insert, angst, panic attacks, indecisive thoughts, manipulation
↪︎ they kidnap you and you have consent panic attacks
🔞Tag Team: Kim Doyoung
↪︎ 1.6k words
↪︎ idol doyoung, reader insert, reader’s best friend, smut, oral (m), a pretty heavy make out between reader and best friend (only once-), giving that sloppy toppy, DOYOUNG wanting to take control but couldn’t because the reader is >///< being dominant for the situation, slight possessiveness, just filth LMAO
↪︎ Synopsis: everyone’s been sharing the same sexual fantasy
🔞Strawberry Sunday: DOJAEJUNG
↪︎ 12.6k words
↪︎ non idol! doyoung, jaehyun, jungwoo x female! reader 🔞smut, some romance, some fluff, angst? public sex (2), slightly dom jungwoo, reader is a lil slutty for them, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slight choking, cream pie (2), doyoung being a complete softy for you, doyoung being a pantie sniffer, pussy worshiping, "just the tip" scenario, doyoung is literally on his knees for you babes, mean but "soft" dom jaehyun, jaehyun humiliating you, dirty talk with some name calling, dacryphilia, sir count (1), oral (m & f), "threesome" (m x f x m) its more like a eiffel tower, voyeurism, after care, hand job, established relationship | pet names for reader: jungwoo: puppy, doyoung: bunny, jaehyun: baby | pet names from reader to them: jungwoo: Woo, doyoung: Doi, jaehyun: Jae
↪︎synopsis: Doyoung, Jungwoo, and Jaehyun each have a crush on you, while you do like 'em as well, but in order to find out if your shy nature with them is because you also feel the same way, they take things to the next level, by themselves and together.
🧸 Calm: KIM DOYOUNG
↪︎synopsis: you had a really exhausting day at work and your boyfriend Doyoung knew exactly what you needed to help you feel better.
↪︎warnings: mental exhaustion, mention of people complaining and yelling, crying
↪︎word count: 717 words
🐱 TEN LEE:
On My Youth: TEN LEE pt.1
↪︎ 1.9k words
↪︎ idol! ten lee x ngs! reader ft. xiaojun, angst, crying, conflicted feelings, minor yelling, confronting on ten’s bs, break up, more crying, just angst and more angst
↪︎synopsis: you’ve noticed ten has been weird ever since his recent comeback, and with one text message it confirmed everything. But you weren’t going to let him do that to you through the phone so you confront him in person.
On My Youth: TEN LEE pt. 2
↪︎ 1.7k
↪︎idol! ten lee x ngs! reader, angst, missing one another, more crying, confrontation, minor yelling, even ore crying…it’s a lot of painful memories for the two folks, some sort of hopeful outcome for the two..?
↪︎synopsis: ten goes to your apartment to speak to you in person about everything that is going on between the two of you…will things clear up between you both?
🍑 JUNG JAEHYUN:
🔞Sir: Jung Jaehyun
↪︎ 1.1k words
↪︎ Jaehyun, reader insert (non gender), smut, dom!Jaehyun, being tied up, edging?, 2 call count of Sir, someone walking in, choking, palming, fingering/stroking, etc.
↪︎ Synopsis: you and Jaehyun have a secret fling, to which some of the members of 127 are getting suspicious.
🔞Strawberry Sunday: DOJAEJUNG
↪︎ 12.6k words
↪︎ non idol! doyoung, jaehyun, jungwoo x female! reader 🔞smut, some romance, some fluff, angst? public sex (2), slightly dom jungwoo, reader is a lil slutty for them, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slight choking, cream pie (2), doyoung being a complete softy for you, doyoung being a pantie sniffer, pussy worshiping, "just the tip" scenario, doyoung is literally on his knees for you babes, mean but "soft" dom jaehyun, jaehyun humiliating you, dirty talk with some name calling, dacryphilia, sir count (1), oral (m & f), "threesome" (m x f x m) its more like a eiffel tower, voyeurism, after care, hand job, established relationship | pet names for reader: jungwoo: puppy, doyoung: bunny, jaehyun: baby | pet names from reader to them: jungwoo: Woo, doyoung: Doi, jaehyun: Jae
↪︎synopsis: Doyoung, Jungwoo, and Jaehyun each have a crush on you, while you do like 'em as well, but in order to find out if your shy nature with them is because you also feel the same way, they take things to the next level, by themselves and together.
💋Valentines With Jaehyun
↪︎ established relationship! Jaehyun x reader; a little something something or v-day and for jaehyun’s birthday! 💌
🐥 DONG SICHENG:
[ 01:19 pm]
🐶 KIM JUNGWOO:
🔞Strawberry Sunday: DOJAEJUNG
↪︎ 12.6k words
↪︎ non idol! doyoung, jaehyun, jungwoo x female! reader 🔞smut, some romance, some fluff, angst? public sex (2), slightly dom jungwoo, reader is a lil slutty for them, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slight choking, cream pie (2), doyoung being a complete softy for you, doyoung being a pantie sniffer, pussy worshiping, "just the tip" scenario, doyoung is literally on his knees for you babes, mean but "soft" dom jaehyun, jaehyun humiliating you, dirty talk with some name calling, dacryphilia, sir count (1), oral (m & f), "threesome" (m x f x m) its more like a eiffel tower, voyeurism, after care, hand job, established relationship | pet names for reader: jungwoo: puppy, doyoung: bunny, jaehyun: baby | pet names from reader to them: jungwoo: Woo, doyoung: Doi, jaehyun: Jae
↪︎synopsis: Doyoung, Jungwoo, and Jaehyun each have a crush on you, while you do like 'em as well, but in order to find out if your shy nature with them is because you also feel the same way, they take things to the next level, by themselves and together.
[ 10:30 pm ]
#nct#kpop#kpop imagines#romance#kpopidol#favorite vampire nct 127#nct dream#kdrama#tallnct#mark lee x reader#nct taeyong#nct johnny#johnny x y/n#taeyong x you#jung jaehyun#kim jungwoo#wayv xiaojun#nct xiaojun#wayv kun#kun x reader#yuta nakamoto x reader#doyoung x y/n#doyoung smut#smut#nct masterlist#nct smut#masterlist
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