#probably from hunching over her desk while studying

[noceurkoi]

a fleurmione doodle

[miinatozakiii]

tutor perks

park jihyo x fem!reader ; fluff, smut ; pt. 2

synopsis: the kid you’re tutoring has a really sweet, charming hot aunt.

warnings: alcohol ; not proofread so many spelling and grammatical errors (probably) ; mmm smut ; smut; and smut ; praise ; overstimulation ; almost fucking in the fancy bathroom ; reader ruined by jihyo ; men mentioned yuck!! ; food ; jihyo is like seven years older than reader ; mmm anything else i’ve missed ; physics mentioned 😵‍💫

a/n: i need her so bad like

(um ALSO i wrote half of this on my phone (that era was...))

- 

you’re assigned to tutor a high school student, some junior boy named matthew park that’s falling behind in a couple of subjects. the lady at the front office had provided you directions to the library, but still, it took you a few wrong turns and another ask to actually get there. 

walking in, you notice the lively yet quiet ambiance filling the room. there are groups of students studying together, giggling and pushing each other around as they do so. another group seems to be much more focused than the others, all furrowing their brows while examining whatever paper is on the table. 

you scan the room and look for a guy who should be alone, and to the right, you spot just that. 

he’s hunched over a little and his eyes are glued to the phone in his right hand while he spins a pencil with the other hand. the guy has on a green crewneck sweater and the headphones he wears squish some of his dark hair, which is parted messily in the middle. you tap on his desk subtly—he looks up with raised brows and takes off his headphones. 

you shoot a friendly smile and begin to speak, “hi, are you—“ 

“matthew, yeah.” he interrupts, “matt is fine.” 

his voice is pretty low, and something about his energy and mannerisms tell you that he’s some type of athlete. he runs a hand through his hair as you sit down next to him and fixes his posture. at least he has some manners, unlike the type of athletes you had to deal with a few years ago. 

“i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” you greet, sticking out your hand—which matt takes—and shaking his bigger, rougher one.  

you clear your throat and look at the slightly creased notes on the table accompanied by the spiral notebook and green folder. setting down your own bag on the floor, you ask, “so, what is it that you’re struggling with the most?” 

matt glances at the entrance for a brief moment then looks down at the work in front of him and clenches his jaw, crossing his arms.  

“physics and precalculus.” he simply says, his voice seeming small and ashamed. you glance over towards where he was before, catching a group of five teenagers—all seemingly athletic from the apparel they wear—and start to catch onto his sudden bashful demeanor. 

“alright, i can help you with that.” you assure, “i’ll try to make this quick and do the best i can to help, just let me know what you want me to explain.” 

matt nods, picking up the pencil and huffing. 

- 

after tutoring math and reliving your high school physics trauma, you’re headed out the entrance of the library and trying to find your way to the main doors.  

“wait!” a voice calls out, “y/n, was it?”  

turning around, you stand a few feet away from matt, whose headphones are resting around his neck comfortably. he rubs his neck and then pinches the bridge of his nose before shutting his eyes tightly. 

you tilt your head, wondering what this boy needs; was it some extra notes or help? 

“yes?” 

“i um,” he begins, tensing his jaw and shaking his head. “i don’t know if this is appropriate to ask you since you’re a tutor—and i swear i’m not hitting on you!” he catches himself, groaning after he speaks. “i just, don’t want to be seen getting tutored, it’s embarrassing because i’m… i’m not doing well academically right now.” 

“matt, it’s okay, don’t feel—” 

“stop,” he says bluntly. “look, you were probably in my place a couple of years ago or something, i don’t know. just, i don’t like being seen like this because i used to be better, but my professors and everything…” 

“i get that, we can work it out! i was actually really good at physics and i know how bad it can be, i was there and precalculus is pretty simple to me.” 

“yes and thank you, i just wanted to ask if we could change locations. somewhere that’s not where i go to school.” 

“where were you thinking matt?” you ask, quirking a brow and ignoring the little buzz from your phone that’s in your pocket. 

he sighs and repeats, “before i ask; i’m not hitting on you, i swear to god.”  

“matt if you’re insisting some type of café i’m fine with that, people study there all the-“ 

“no, i’d be recognized there too.” he mumbles. “can you just come over to my house? i’ll even have my aunt texting you to say it’s okay, i don’t know if you need that confirmation or whatever, i mean, i’m a minor and i get that it might be iffy.” 

“oh, i see.” you mutter in response. “i mean, we can do that, just have your aunt text me, yeah?” 

“okay.” he responds, “can we do this thursday? i have a physics test on friday.” 

“that’s fine, i’ll do my best to help you out matt.” 

he smiles gratefully. “thank you y/n.”  

-- 

once you’re out of your car after parking near the curb across the street, you get a real good view of matt’s house and damn, the place is nice. 

it’s pretty big and modern, but not too modern that it’s uncomfortable, it just stands out. 

you walk down the little pathway towards the door, which is illuminated by dimmed, warm lights, and tilt your neck to the side to crack it before knocking. a few moments later, you hear the locks click as they turn and the door opens, matt opens it and he’s wearing some white t-shirt, which is paired with black sweatpants. 

“thank you for coming, and again, i swear i’m not hitting on you.” 

“matt, it would be very illegal for me to do anything like that with you. i get it, seriously.” 

“just making sure.” he says, “come in, my aunt is coming home soon.” 

his aunt had sent you a text asking if you were his tutor, and she had thanked you for offering such assistance to her nephew. the lady—his aunt—seemed sweet. her tone via text and the amusing emojis she used had given you this image of some woman in her 40s or 50s, probably baking cookies and thanking you with a warm hug for helping her dear relative. you’ll meet her later; hopefully, she does end up giving you cookies. 

matt leads you to the dining area and as you make your way there, the aroma of vanilla fills the air. maybe it was the cookies that were waiting for you, or you’re just really hungry and craving something sweet. 

“i have the things i need to study, he gave us this study guide and i have some questions regarding the velocity equations.” he explains, but stops himself in his tracks and mutters an “ah,” before asking, “did you want anything to drink?” 

“no, no.” you dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “let’s get started, shall we?” 

the rhythmic ticking of the clock echoed through the room as you continued to guide matt through the complexities of his physics homework. frustrated groans and muttered curses painted a vivid picture of the challenges he was enduring—in this case, one of the most dreadful subjects ever—and you found yourself helping him whenever you could. 

as the sounds of the front door unlocking reached your ears, both you and matt instinctively turned towards the entrance. matt, eager to get a small break from the terrible page of paper in front of him, leapt up to open the door just as it swung ajar. 

"hey, auntie," he greeted, the familial connection evident in his tone. 

“hi matt, there are some groceries i need you to take in, would you mind helping me out?” 

“no not at all,” he says, then excuses himself to go help out with the groceries. 

the figure that emerged into the room drew your attention like a magnetic force. matt's aunt strode in with an air of authority that commanded immediate respect. your jaw tensed as you observed her approach, an almost instinctive reaction to the oddly powerful aura exuded from her. how crazy it was for a woman who’s just appeared to have you sit up in your seat. 

she was not what you expected—a far cry from the stereotypical image you had of aunts in their 40s or 50s, definitely not as old as you had assumed. instead, she carried an ageless poise, appearing young but undeniably mature. dressed in a black blazer that teased the line between formal and casual, ending provocatively above her knees, she was a vision that held your gaze captive. 

however, it wasn't just the flawless outfit that ensnared your attention. it was the remarkable contours of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones that had your jaw dropping just barely as you were in your trance. her steps echoed with a strange power, and even in her approach, you couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation just by existing within her proximity. 

as matt’s aunt neared, her gaze locked onto yours—a gaze that felt both deathly and tremendously allurin — then, she smiled, a shift in demeanor that caught you off guard. the stern, professional aura melted away, replaced by a wonderfully cute smile that seemed to rival her intimidating presence. 

you—caught in a momentary trance—couldn't help but reciprocate with a dorky smile, your hand instinctively moving to fix your hair, as if trying to match the sudden change in atmosphere. what a mess you were for someone’s aunt you’ve just laid your eyes on.  

"ah, you're y/n, matt's tutor, am i correct?" she inquired, her voice sent a ripple of warmth through the room. the cadence of her words held a subtle allure, a tone that rang with confidence and undeniable charm. her voice was a little on the deeper end, but regardless it was hot and you could for sure get used to it. 

you managed to nod, finding your voice despite the sudden whirlwind of emotions. "yes, that's me. nice to meet you, miss park." 

“no need to be so formal hon.” she chuckles, pleased. “you can call me jihyo.” she assures with a smile. jihyo stretches out her hand and you take it, her hands are soft and smaller than yours, and her nails well manicured. “you have nice hands y/n.”  

that is such a crazy statement coming from someone’s beautiful, striking aunt who you’ve met for the first time ever and just now. your cheeks flush and you laugh shyly before responding, “thank you, your hands are um, they’re nice too.” 

after realizing that you’ve been holding this woman’s hand for too long, you pull away and run a hand through your hair again. jihyo smiles at you before walking over to the desk and examining the paper, she sighs and raises her brows. 

“ah, physics, i was never good at that when i was in high school.” 

“yes it’s something a lot of people struggled with in high school, i was lucky to be able to do well in that class.” you shrug, and jihyo looks at you impressed. 

“i see, you must be smart huh? and how old are you sweetheart?” 

your knees almost give up on you after this crazy hot woman just called you sweetheart, yet you manage to respond to her without stuttering or sounding like a fool. “i’m 20.” 

“ah, pretty young huh. you’re in college?” 

“yeah. education major, actually.” 

“how cute.” she responds amusingly, “well, thank you again for teaching my nephew. i’ll be upstairs, just send a text or shout if he’s a hassle. thanks hon.” 

jihyo shoots you a grateful smile before patting you on the shoulder; you might just die right then and there. you gulp lightly and manage to choke out a response, “y-yeah, no problem.” which makes the older woman giggle softly before leaving. 

you have got to get a grip. 

-- 

the woman you’ve interacted with for no more than three minutes surely left a mark with her first impression. now you’re putting more effort into your appearance than you did for that date you had three weeks ago with the girl sarah set you up with. 

you slip into a white graphic baby tee that effortlessly molds around your figure, the perfect balance of snug and comfortable. the tee you were gifted is paired with your beloved thrifted boyfriend jeans, their wash perfectly complements your top and if you were to stretch just a little bit, jihyo would get a glimpse of the line that runs down your tummy. a hint of effortlessness fills the air as you tie up the upper half of your hair, allowing loose strands to gently caress your shoulders and frame your face. light and natural makeup enhances your best features, purposefully done to emphasize your appeal with a touch of ease.  

when you reach the front door of matt’s house, you brush a strand of hair out and pat down the black cardigan you have on before knocking on it three times. the familiar teenage boy opens it up and greets you with a smile, inviting you in.  

everything goes as usual: you situate yourself in a different room this time and matt hands you his assignments. you take your time to give them a good look, and then ask him what he needs help with. this time he needs help with precalculus, and thankfully, you’re pretty good at that too. 

you watch him work on the assignments for a bit and start to get thirsty, and then you realize you’ve forgotten your water bottle on the counter in your small apartment.  

“ah i forgot my bottle… could i get some water?” you ask him, and he nods without looking away from the paper. 

“yeah, the kitchen is down the hall to the right. there’s bottles in the fridge. could you grab me a coke zero?” 

“yeah, thanks, i’ll be quick. just work on these for the time being.” he hums in response to you and continues to write down various messy scribbles while solving some type of math problem he’s been assigned. 

you do as he says: walk down the hall and to the right to enter the familiar kitchen you were near last time and you’re met with the familiar older woman that had you all flustered before. she’s standing by the stove and cooking something up and it smells great. awkwardly, you walk over to the fridge and she turns after catching you in her peripheral. 

she smiles immediately upon meeting your presence. 

“y/n! hi honey, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo greets, “i’ve been wanting to see you again.” 

“you have?” your cheeks flush immediately, and you manage to recompose yourself, clearing your throat before responding,, “it’s nice to see you too..” 

jihyo looks you up and down, eyes pausing for two seconds on the baby tee hugging your figure before meeting your eyes again. her look does things that she wants her hands doing, but that’s for her to know. 

“did you need anything sweetheart?” she asks, raising a brow. her question doesn’t process through your head until a few moments after. you were too busy admiring her from head to toe, taking in her features, the casual outfit she has on—eyes enjoying the view of her cleavage that slightly shows in that black tank top she wears.  

you clear your throat again. 

“oh i was just getting some drinks for matt and i.” you respond, quickly darting your eyes away from her chest.  

the older woman giggles amusingly, “take whatever you’d like from there.” 

“thank you miss— i mean, jihyo. it’s fine really, just thirsty and matt wants a coke zero, haha.” 

“alright~” she says, dragging her response teasingly. “just let me know, ‘kay?”  

“yeah, thanks.” you smile sheepishly and nod, then grab the drinks you almost forgot about before walking away.  

jihyo looks you up and down as you step into the hall, smirking a bit before going back to cook the dinner she’d been preparing.  

when you get back to the room where you had been tutoring, you spot matt, who is still writing down some equation down on his paper. he looks up once he hears you, then smiles after seeing the coca-cola in your hand. 

“here’s your drink.” you smile. 

“thanks.” 

“it’s no problem, your aunt told me to grab as much as i’d like. is she always so… sweet?” 

“i mean, i guess so. she’s pretty laid back with my friends as long as we don’t do too much.” matt opens the can and shakes his head as a small laugh slips out. “she’s definitely more generous with you, i can tell. she asked me about you actually.” 

“she what?” your eyes widen and your head turns. “what did she ask?” 

“nothing too important, just when you’d be over again.” matt shrugs, then his adam’s apple moves up and down whilst his neck muscles tense and relax as he gulps down the carbonated drink. “damn this is fizzy—” he says, then coughs. “fuck.” 

matt leaves you with an awareness of jihyo’s curiousity towards your own self, and now you’re trying to focus on tutoring the kid whilst thinking of his aunt.  

“good job matt, i can see you’re already getting much better. the concepts and formulas seem to be clicking, yeah?” you praise, he nods. matt stretches his arms out and you roll your shoulders back to release some tension. 

after helping him tidy up, you make sure everything is back in your own tote bag that you had brought. matt turns towards the entrance to the room and his eyebrows raise a bit, then you turn and see the same woman. your jaw tenses—lips part slightly too. 

jihyo walks in and the sway of her hips isn’t unnoticeable. she looks at the two of you, eyes lingering on you longer than her own nephew, then beams. “matt, help me set up dinner will you?” 

“mhm, gotchu. what’s for dinner by the way?” 

“steak and pasta, go mix up the pasta would you?” 

“yes aunt hyo.” matt complies, then shoots you a grateful grin before standing up with an exaggerated, tired sigh. he walks past jihyo, leaving the two of you alone. 

your heart beats embarrassingly fast once matt is gone, it thumps so hard in your chest that you’re afraid that jihyo may hear.  

“done for the day?” jihyo questions, walking over to you. 

you gulp. “yeah, just finished actually.” 

“i see, you must be hungry.” then jihyo locks eyes with you, and you genuinely think it might be something more—or maybe you’re delusional—who knows. “stay for dinner.” 

okay maybe it’s something more, or you’re just a desperate, lovesick gay college student that’s borderline head over heels. 

“oh it’s fine, really.” you say it with uncertainty, waving your hands in the air with an awkward smile. “i don’t want to trouble you.” 

“it’d be anything but a trouble y/n.” jihyo counters, “if anything the trouble would be letting a pretty lady like you out my house with an empty stomach.” 

jihyo places her hand on your shoulder, then squeezes it lightly. her eyes have you paralyzed in place, drilling into your pupils and then finding their attention on your lips. jihyo is slightly shorter than you, yet you feel so helpless under than her. an amused smirk plays on her lips and you find yourself clutching your tote bag strap a little tighter. 

“…then i’ll take your offer, thank you.” you nod awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flush. 

jihyo nods, feeling accomplished, then pulls her hand off your shoulder. “i’ll have matt know there’s going to be an extra plate then. come on sweetheart.” 

-- 

now you’re sat at the dining table with jihyo across. she’s grinning and her eyes keep wandering all over you, but most of the time they’re focused on your face. 

matt hands you a plate with steak and alfredo pasta, then some utensils. he places a cup of water down on a coaster and pushes it towards you, then hands his aunt a glass of white wine.  

matt takes a bite of the meal and sighs, pleased with how it satisfies his hunger. jihyo laughs at him whilst he goes on to devour the plate. you follow after him and twirl some of the noodle against your spoon, then stab a piece of steak with your fork. the bite you take is filled with some saltiness, though it’s deliciously savory—just how you like it. 

jihyo smiles. “good?” 

“it’s great, thank you again jihyo.”  

“anytime, i fancy your company.” she responds before taking a bite herself. 

there’s a question brewing in your mind, but you’re second-guessing yourself because it seems a bit rude, well, maybe. jihyo swallows the steak and reaches for her glass again. 

“so it’s just you and matt?” you ask, avoiding eye contact. 

matt turns and raises a brow, then shrugs it off. jihyo simply nods her head. 

“just me and the troublemaker.” she jokes, which earns an eye roll from matt. “he moved here a few years ago, the school over here is excellent for him. great academics, extracurriculars, sports teams…” 

“i see. good for him then.”  

“what about you?” jihyo questions. you look up at her in the middle of chewing down your pasta, rushing to get a response out. 

“sorry, what?” 

“just you? no boyfriend or… significant other?”  

surprisingly, you don’t choke on your food. “oh no, not at the moment.” 

“that’s a shame, and a surprise.” she takes another bite of steak and chews on it in the right side of her cheek, puffing it out a little. “i wonder why no one has made a move, i would’ve if there were a beauty like you around.” 

matt pauses, his brows furrow and he looks at his aunt with some slight concern. “auntie?” 

“i’m only teasing silly, just complimenting,” jihyo says, laughing to ease the tension in the air (though, it doesn’t work. your heart starts racing again and the meal gets harder to finish). “it’s better than whatever you’ve said over the phone to those—”  

matt coughs, then shakes his head. “okay okay, we get it.” he rolls his eyes (again) and shrinks into his seat, making jihyo giggle. you laugh as well and matt scoffs as he pokes at the steak on his plate. 

there’s a sudden buzz that makes the table vibrate slightly. your phone sits next to your glass of water, and you reach for it hastily. due to your clumsy handling, the water topples over, spilling all over shirt—your chest. 

“shit—” you curse and stand up quickly.  

“matt, grab some napkins for y/n.” jihyo orders, quickly walking over to your side of the table. she grabs the napkins from her nephew and hands them to you, then urges you to follow her. she turns to matt and quickly says, “clean up the table, i’ll go help y/n out with her clothes.” 

matt hums in response and you follow jihyo, feeling embarassed from the small scene you’ve made. 

-- 

“i’m really sorry, and really, i could’ve cleaned up on my own—”  

“it’s fine y/n, don’t worry about it.” jihyo assures, leading you to the large master bedroom.  

there’s a king-sized bed in the middle, dimmed lights, and the room screams luxury. jihyo leads you over to the closet and grabs a small towel, then starts to pat down at your chest, making your cheeks burn.  

her hands find their way over to your shoulder to stabilize you, and then she’s shaking her head after trying to dry the spillage on your shirt. “this won’t do, let me get you a shirt. you can take off yours and leave it on the hanger over there.” she says, pointing to the hook. 

“t-thank you.” mentally, you facepalm yourself for sounding so nervous. 

“your cheeks are red,” jihyo giggles. she places her hand on your shoulder, then drags it down to your chest briefly before pulling away. “it’s alright honey, it happens. i’ll get you that shirt.” 

a few minutes later she enters the abnormally large closet again and hands you a gray sweatshirt with some college logo on it.  

“thank you jihyo, i’ll give this back to you when i—” 

“it’s fine, just keep it for pajamas or anything like that. it’s just some old shirt from when i graduated a while ago.” jihyo says. you pray that you look calm and collected, trying to mask your flustered-self with a smile. “i’ll let you change, just come out when you’re done sugar.” 

“yeah, thanks—and sorry.”  

jihyo shakes her head and waves off your apology with her hand. 

-- 

you’re back downstairs in a few minutes—minutes of jihyo (not so) subtly checking you out in her old clothes. 

matt asks if you’re okay, you answer with a nod and a smile. 

“my roommate keeps calling me, i should get going.” is muttered followed by an unnecessary peek into your tote bag, shuffling through to make sure you have everything. “thank you again for everything.” 

jihyo leads you to the door and sends matt up to get ready for school. she flattens out her own clothes, runs a hand through her hair, then watches you slip on your shoes from the front door. 

“you should stay for dinner more often y/n, i enjoyed it.” 

you chuckle awkwardly, then push a strand of hair back. “i enjoyed it too, though i’m sorry for spilling water everywhere.” 

“that’s quite alright, you could always make up for it by staying over. i like your company.”  

looking down at the ground, you smile bashfully and respond, “i’ll consider it. thank you again.”  

“drive safe pretty.” jihyo says, waving goodbye and shutting the door. 

- 

sarah sits on the opposite end of the couch and watches you closely.  

youre hugging your knees to your chest and smiling, making your roommate turn her head in confusion. “why’d you drag me to the couch.” 

“i need to tell you about today. about everything.” 

“make it quick, i have a lecture tomorrow morning for psych.” she sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the couch. 

“so i’ve been tutoring that kid you know, the high school kid.” you start, and sarah nods as she hums. “yeah so basically i tutor him that one day at his school or whatever, then, he asks me to tutor him at his house.” 

“so he… wants you?” 

“no, absolutely not. plus, that’s like, a case.” you say with a shake of your hand, dismissing hee assumption. “but, speaking of age differences, i went to his house — his aunts house — and i was tutoring him and whatnot. then i hear someone knock on the door and he says it’s his aunt, so im unfazed or whatever because it’s probably this middle aged lady or whatever.” 

“right, so…?” 

“so i was fucking wrong.” you explain, sitting up now. “the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on walks in. she’s dressed in work clothes or something, all black, and she looks good.”  

“oh, so you’re gay.” sarah scoffs amusingly, quirking a brow. “am i supposed to be… surprised?” 

“can you just shut the fuck up and listen to me fully for once, please.” 

sarah rolls her eyes. “fine.” 

“okay so she calls me hon, then she says my hands are sweet — and keep in mind, this is the first time i’ve talked to her in person. then she calls me sweetheart?” 

“she’s being nice i think, considering she’s probably older than you. maybe you’re just gay, delusional, and haven’t gotten laid since… months ago?” 

“just because you and your girlfriend do it every time i’m out does not mean you have to shove it down my throat.” you scoff, “anyways, yeah no i thought that too, but then her nephew — the kid in tutoring — he tells me that she’s more generous with me and asks about me. i don’t think that’s being nice.” 

“that might just be curiosity and being nice, y/n.” 

“no hear me out okay,” sarah giggles as she watches you talk all animatedly with your hands moving after every couple of words. “she invited me for dinner — literally wanted me to stay, like insisted — then said i was too pretty to not be taken? and then she was saying that if ‘there were a beauty like you around, i would’ve made a move.’” 

sarah’s eyes widen, then her mouth opens slightly in shock. she leans closer to you, now fully invested knowing that this isn’t just another stretch of your interactions with women.  

“holy shit?” 

“i know.” you say, feeling your cheeks flush just from thinking about it. “and then you called and i spilled water and whatnot, she brought me to her room and—“ 

“you guys fucked?” 

“no!” you immediately say, a little too loud for that matter. “no, no.” you reassure, “though, i’m going to be honest i kind of wish—but that’s besides the point. she helped me out and patted down my tits — well my shirt but who cares, same thing — and then gave me her old sweatshirt. im literally wearing it right now and i remember her checking me out as soon as i changed into them.” 

“oh my god?” 

“yeah, and then you called again for me to come back or whatever and she told me to stay for dinner more often. now i’m here and that’s the end of the story.” 

sarah simply stares at you with wide eyes, her hand covering her slightly opened mouth. you place your hands on your face snd grown, feeling the heat of your cheeks on the skin of your hand. 

“i cant believe someone’s aunt wants you.” 

“i know!”  

“are you going to… sleep with her?” sarah asks, tilting her head. 

you find yourself lost in thought, often drifting into a world where she consumes your every waking moment - both at work and during classes. in these vivid daydreams, your thoughts sometimes stray to a more innocent realm. you envision the possibility of going on a simple date with her, where you can unravel the layers of her personality and just get to know her on a deeper level. because jihyo’s the type of woman that you want to sit down and get to know, that’s for sure.  

but to be honest, most of the time your mind wanders to far more… provocative scenarios. your imagination conjures up images of her completely unveiled, with a tantalizing desire to feel her hands caressing your every contour, leaving you to completely submit to her; to be ruined by jihyo personally. these fantasies consume you, their allure impossible to resist.  

“well, i don’t know.” you answer, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i still have to tutor her nephew.” 

“hmm… then focus on that and then sleeping with his aunt.” sarah suggests, giggling lightly before her phone buzzes. she looks at the screen and sees a text from her girlfriend, then smiles immediately. “speaking of sleeping with people, my girlfriend is picking me up. i’ll be out for the night.” 

you groan, still wanting sarah to listen to you while losing your mind and leave her own comments here and there. it’s almost impossible to get her away from her girlfriend. you’re so jealous and sarah loves to poke at you for being single and insatiable. 

“you’re unbelievable.” 

sarah shrugs, getting up with a cheeky grin. she snickers, “and you need to get laid. good luck with your little milf situation.” 

“she’s not his mom!” 

“same difference.” 

— 

the next time you tutor matt, you never get to talk or see jihyo. matt explains that she’s out for the night, something related to a business trip that he seems to not really care about. 

but you care, and you need to know when she’s back. unfortunately, tutoring comes first and the last thing you want to do is make it obvious that you have a crush on the aunt of the kid you’re tutoring. 

(matt has a little hunch; he notices the stares the both of you give each other when you two think no one is looking. matt is looking and definitely suspicious of how nervous you get around her and how generous his aunt is to you. though, he doesn’t have time to dive deeper in that since another physics test is clouding his brain for the time being.) 

you run into jihyo the day after that session with matt, but not as his house.  

there’s a place near the campus that’s now you and your friends’ signature study and hangout spot. it’s this cozy café and restaurant that the five of you have spent countless hours at either conversing and laughing for hours or losing your mind over whatever classes you guys take. this time, you’re all getting brunch together and debating something small. 

you excuse yourself and get in line to grab a drink since you only purchased a panini, thinking that would satisfy you. you were wrong. so, you stand in line for a bit, not really minding your surroundings while you tap through various instagram stories and scroll mindlessly. a minute later, you feel a tap on your shoulder while you’re halfway through a video your friend had posted. when you turn around you’re met with the face that has you lost in a momentary trance.  

“ah y/n, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo says. 

“oh, jihyo.” you respond, trying to hide your surprise and sudden nervousness. “it’s nice to see you too.” 

oh for sure it’s nice to see her. sunglasses sit on the top of her head, loose strands fall over her face, and the dress she’s wearing under her long coat looks divine. your eyes scan her whole body for a short moment, and then you’re clearing your throat as she starts to speak again. 

“are you here alone?” she asks you, looking you up in down in the process. 

“oh i’m with friends actually, they’re over by the window—“ you point to the group of four laughing together, all invested in the conversation at hand as the afternoon light brightens their smiles. “—we were just getting together and eating brunch.” you explain. 

“i see…” jihyo mumbles, looking over to your friends. she sounds a bit dissapointed, but you could be wrong about that.  

“what are you doing here? i mean, i don’t mean that in a rude way it’s just—“ 

jihyo smiles again, putting her hand on your shoulder as she laughs. “oh honey,” one of many things she calls you that makes your breath go short, “it’s fine, i get what you mean.” she trails down to your bicep, her skin warm on yours. “i was going to grab a drink before work, this is one of my favorite cafes.” 

“what a coincidence, it’s one of mine too.” 

jihyo subtly acknowledges your presence, her gaze gracefully trailing along your figure, delicately fixating on the tantalizing hint of skin peeking through your attire. her probing eyes pause there momentarily, capturing every nuance of the tempting groove down your tummy, accentuated by your low-rise jeans and revealing crop top. the ensemble effortlessly enhances your allure, inducing an irresistible appeal that’s impossible to ignore. as her gaze eventually retreats, it effortlessly returns to meet your own.  

“i suppose we have lots in common.” jihyo notes. 

“yeah,” you breath out, “i guess so.” 

“next in line please!” one of the the cashiers yells out, snapping you out of your daze. you apologize to him and then smile at jihyo before walking over and shuffling for the wallet in your shoulder bag.  

after getting your pistachio latte, you walk back to your friends and they beam at you. setting your bag down, you listen in on the conversation. 

“—and so, as i was saying, he kept making me pay for everything on the first date.” mai scoffs, crossing her arms. she’s a friend from your intro to education, lively and always has something to say. this time, it seems to be quite interesting. “look, i am a 50-50 girl and whatnot, but he asked me out and expects me to pay? i felt like there was a whole beard on my face and my balls dropped or something after paying for him. yeah, never again.” 

you laugh loudly, covering your mouth upon hearing the entertaining story.  

again – similar to just a few minutes ago – there’s a tap on your shoulder. your friends look at the woman behind you before you can, and once you set your look on her; your heart starts to beat again, a blush settling on your cheeks. 

“hey pretty, i was about to leave for work.” jihyo says with a smile, “can we talk for a bit? alone.”  

to your left, another one of your friends raises his eyebrows subtly. just with that small gesture alone, he manages ask without speaking: who’s this woman and why is she calling you pretty? though, you can’t answer him just yet. there’s no way you’d embarrass yourself in front of jihyo. 

you clear your throat and stutter just barely in your response. “hey, hi. um, yeah, sure. excuse me guys, i um, need to talk with her.”  

after sending an apologetic smile and earning various cheeky smiles, you nod at jihyo and find a spot near the window to talk to her. alone. she brushes a strand of hair out of your face and leans back to sit upright in her seat; you try to stay calm 

“i just wanted to ask for a favor, i completely forgot about it until i got a notification from my calendar.” 

“oh, what is it?”  

she looks out the window and sips on her iced drink, then turns back to meet your eyes. “well, i have a work dinner thing, a lot of… men will be there for the most part. i was wondering if you’d accompany me? i’m afraid i’d grow tired of their dull efforts to impress me, but it’s completely fine if you can’t make it.” jihyo says, although her tone near the end suggests that she’d be pretty disappointed with an answer other than yes. “i know it’s a big ask, but i’ve grown quite fond of you. is that ridiculous?” 

quickly, you dismiss her by waving your hands a bit frantically and shaking your head. you assure her, “it’s not ridiculous at all!” unintentionally, the volume of your voice spikes. “i’m actually um, really flattered that you feel that way, seriously. it also wouldn’t be any trouble – the dinner thing – id, um, i would love to accompany you.” 

jihyo finds herself blushing, surprisingly. she sips on the drink before setting it down on the marble counter side, then places her elbows on the table and her eyes smile, then her nose scrunches a bit.  

“right, that’s wonderful.” she says, “come over to my place tomorrow at 5:30 then?” you gulp upon hearing her words – practically an order with that tone and raise of her brow – then nod. she smiles and places her hand on your shoulder again, this time terribly close to the crook of your neck, her thumb brushing against your throat. “good, see you then.” 

“yeah,” you respond, not wanting to leave yet; your friends are waiting for you and jihyo has to go to work, so you begin to stand. “i’ll see you… my friends um, they’re—” 

“oh, yes, sorry for dragging you away—” 

“no!” you shake your hands again, cringing at how loud your voice grew (again). “they’re fine with it and i don’t want you to be late for work. we weren’t doing anything important anyway, just catching up.” 

she giggles and stands up to face you, eyes angled up slightly since she’s an inch or two shorter. she takes her hand off her skin and it feels specifically frigid in that area now that the warmth radiating off her fingers isn’t there, you almost shiver. 

“right, thanks hon. i’ll see you tomorrow yeah? shoot me a text when you get there, you have my number.” 

you nod and she hands her work bag on her shoulder, then starts to walk away – but not before winking at you. you smile, feeling your heart do a flip. 

when you return to your table, your friends are already eyeing you mischievously. mai has her straw sitting on her teeth, giving you that look. your jaw tightens and you smile at them before awkwardly sitting back in the previously empty seat, mentally preparing yourself in those two silent seconds before they all start bombarding you with questions and relentless teasing. 

- 

you arrived at jihyo’s house ten minutes early, a little earlier than you’d expected since the traffic wasn’t as bad. you walk down the small path leading to the steps, then up those three steps and onto the doormat. before you can even knock, the door opens and matt nearly bumps into you. 

he apologizes immediately, then looks at you with scrunched brows. 

“were we supposed to tutor today?” he asks, scratching his head with a finger. “if we were, sorry but i’ve got plans.” he says, nudging his head forward, making you turn around to see a honda civic parked on the street across. the windows are rolled down, revealing another guy that looks around his age in the drivers seat, another in the passengers side that you can barely see, and two girls in the back.  

“oh, no. jihyo called me over actually, not for you.” 

matt raises his brows, then his body relaxes. “oh.” 

“yeah, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“no it’s… fine.” he assures, looking at you skeptically. “have fun with… my aunt? um, whatever you two are… doing. i’m staying at a friends house tonight so…” 

“yeah, have fun.” you respond awkwardly, looking up at him as he observes you for a few seconds longer. the makeup on your face is slightly heavier than usual – not that it’s a bad thing, in fact he wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the nice dress you were wearing. quite odd, he figures, but it’s not his business. he shrugs his shoulders and forgets about it, waving at you before he leaves, running over to the black honda civic that’s playing music at a volume so loud that you can hear it from the door. 

you forget about the whole encounter for a moment, instead redirecting your attention to the opened door in front of you. stepping inside, you get a whiff of the familiar lavender scent that fills the house, then close the door behind you. the house is silent until you send jihyo a text, and she responds a few seconds later by yelling from upstairs. 

“y/n! come upstairs darling!”  

you freeze in place, suddenly feeling intimidated for no reason. nonetheless, you walk on over to the stairs, then up to jihyo’s room. 

as you enter the room, her image captivates your attention in the mirror. the black dress she has on a pulls you towards her, reciprocating the intense attraction you both feel. the attraction that’s most definitely there, but jihyo’s a tease and you’re cautious. she likes that she has you wrapped around her finger. it’s amusing how easily flustered you get around her. 

the sight of her is nothing short of exquisite, and your gaze fixates on the enticing curve of her hips, igniting a subtle pulse in between your legs hunger that has you subconsciously nibbling on your lip. glancing further upwards, you indulge in the sight of her exposed shoulders, showcased gracefully in the mirror's reflection. they exude a provoking attraction, tempting you to succumb to your countless daydreams. you want to explore the softness of her skin, want to leave indelible marks on her delicate collarbones. 

in the midst of your blatant stare, her eyes lock with yours through the mirror, catching you in the act of unabashedly admiring her. she laughs, then she turns around to face you, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. 

“like what you see?” she teases you, making your cheeks burn.  

you clear your throat and pretend to busy yourself by looking into your bag, but manage to respond politely, “i um—sorry. matt let me in, he just left.” 

she starts to step towards you, and you feel yourself gulp unintentionally.  

“mhm, he told me about the sleepover.” she says, then stands inches away from you. using her pointer and thumb, she tilts your chin up and away from the bag hung on your shoulder, intensely gazing at you for a moment before speaking again. “you look remarkable.” 

your breath hitches as you look at her, eyes drilling into yours while you try to stay calm. “t-thank you.” 

she eyes you for a while longer before nodding, then smiles at you like she didn’t just eye fuck you. 

“let’s get going, there’s good parking if we arrive early. less of a hassle for us.” 

all you can do is hum and follow her, afraid of embarrassing yourself from how flustered and inaudible you are. 

- 

the car ride consisted of you trying to not stare at her sharp, defined features the whole time. it was very difficult to not glance here and there, a few times you had your eyes glued on her godly cheekbones and sometimes you even eyed the way her bones would pop out when she turned the wheel.  

during the car ride, you found it increasingly challenging to avert your gaze from her captivating, exquisitely sculpted features. the temptation to steal a glimpse here and there proved irresistible, as her godly cheekbones held your attention.  

at times, you couldn't help but be captivated by the protrusion of her bones as she maneuvered the steering wheel. after eyeing it for too long, jihyo caught you in her peripheral and turned to face you – the light was red anyway – then smiled cheekily. she moved her hand towards your thigh, placing it dangerously close to the dampening area in between your legs. 

“you alright lovely? you seem a little tense.” jihyo asks, rubbing your thigh with her thumb just barely. “something on your mind?” 

you fought back a low whimper before you respond, “i’m fine, thanks.” you try, voice small as she adds more pressure to your skin. you try your best to remain calm and composed, but god it’s so hard when she’s touching you there and like that. “it’s not important, i was just daydreaming.” 

(your daydreaming will be increasingly explicit from now on.) 

the light turns green and jihyo puts her hand back on the wheel as she turns away from you, redirecting her attention on the road. your jaw tenses and you shift in the seat a little, thighs closing and rubbing together. 

jihyo pretends not to notice and fights back a smirk. 

-- 

the two of you would enter the restaurant together with jihyo linking your arms and smiling at you like she didn’t just make you ten times hornier than you already are daily. 

as you enter, you are immediately mesmerized by the extraordinary interior. the lighting casts an enchanting, almost mystical ambiance, wrapping the space in an intimate aura. the arrangement of tables is meticulously planned, each one positioned with precision and attention to detail. the sheer beauty of the place is breathtaking, leaving you in awe. it’s evident that reservations at this place come with a hefty price tag, most definitely surpassing the cost of more than half of your apartment's monthly rent; maybe almost as much as what you and sarah pay together.  

jihyo leans in closer to your ear, lips brushing against your skin and it sends a shiver down your spine. “come lovely, let’s find our seats.” she says, then walks you over with her to the man with slicked back hair and an impossibly perfect posture. he gives you the table number and holds his arm out in the direction of it, then jihyo thanks him with that weirdly arousing voice she has and tugs on your arm lightly. 

there are other men that are scattered around the dining area, they all notice jihyo as soon as she steps in – who wouldn’t? 

she’s stone faced as she walks with you and towards the table, her stern expression unfazed by the stares from men that aren’t accompanied by their respective lovers. though, maybe those with their own lover took a small glimpse. 

you feel a little small, most eyes are on jihyo though a good amount also land on you. it seems that the two of you have taken the attention of the majority, which freaks you much as much as it flatters you. jihyo seems to notice the attention on you too, then subtly brings you closer to her.  

jihyo sits down first and flattens out her outfit before she fixes her hair, then pats down the seat next to her. you sit down and she brings your chair a little closer before leaning towards your ear and speaking again. 

“thank you for coming, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to the table this quickly if it weren’t for you.” 

you hum, then ask, “why is that?” 

“the men here are shameless, they hit on me dinner after dinner.” jihyo sighs, then lowers her voice when she says, “i guess they were too distracted by you. you’re a sight worth skipping dinner for.” 

you gulp, laughing off her suggestive compliment before boldly responding, “i think most would much rather… indulge in you. i get their standpoint, though.”  

as you begin to fix the delicate fabric of your dress, a subtle flicker of surprise dances within jihyo's widened eyes. with her grip on her handbag growing tighter, her gaze shifts towards you, a newfound intensity in her look. you turn to look right back in her eyes, almost challenging her with this new confidence of yours. it’s in this moment that the unspoken connection seems to deepen, the tension drawing you two closer. the allure she now feels towards you, layered with a hint of curiosity and urge to undress you, is palpable yet carefully restrained. 

three more men greet jihyo formally and she smiles forcefully at them before they take their seats and indulge in their own conversation. the menus are handed once everyone settles in and everyone glances at the options. the selection intimidates you; half the dishes incorporate foreign words that you had never heard of.  

jihyo places her hand on your thigh again, this time higher than before. she looks at you with those drilling brown eyes and squeezes a bit.  

“know what you’d like?” 

your breath shakes reluctantly, but you respond with a leveled tone. “yeah, the chicken chasseur.” there’s a ninety percent chance you butchered that pronunciation, half of the reason was because you never really paid attention in your french three class your junior year of high school, and the other half was because jihyo’s fingers started tracing patterns into the flesh of your thigh. 

“right, the chasseur,” she says teasingly, pronouncing it correctly. “that’s one of my favorites.” 

“i see, i’ll definitely like it then.” 

“mhm.”  

the waiter comes by – the same guy with the slicked back hair – he introduces himself in a deep, formal tone. it catches you off guard that his name is so simple: michael. he takes all of your orders, then collects each menu. as soon as he leaves, one of the men at the table attempt to strike up some small talk with jihyo, and she responds with blunt, uninterested answers. the men are left intimidated and out of luck, then try to succeed in initiating a meaningful conversation with you. 

“what was your name dear?” one says, his features implying that he’s not too far off from how old your parents are.  

hesitantly, you respond with a polite “y/n,” before smiling respectfully. he narrows his eyes and smirks before glancing down, it leaves you uneasy. jihyo clears her throat and sends daggers at him with her glare. 

“how are you and your wife, samuel?” she questions, quirking a brow before your waiter arrives with a bottle of white and red wine. the man who’d bee blatantly chekcing out your chest area grimaces, then fakes a smile. 

“we’re doing fine.” he says a little sternly, then halts his attempts at socializing with you. 

you send jihyo a thankful glance, she responds with a grin before swirling the white wine in her glass and giving a sip, then sips. 

“this is good, have some dear.” she says, urging you with a tilt of her head to try some of the identical wine in your own glass. “do you like wine?” 

“kind of, i mean, i never really indulge...” your response gives you a quick flashback of the various cheap selections of alcoholic drinks you’ve downed at house parties you’d attend here and there. you grab your glass and copy what jihyo does – you don’t really know how to sip on wine without it looking like you can’t even afford three sips – then raise your brows in surprise once you get a taste. it's sharp and fruity, much richer than the past drinks you’ve had. 

“good?” jihyo says amusingly, observing your expression. 

“it’s wonderful.” 

she grins at you, then gances around the table hastily. two of the men continue to glance over even as they talk withe ach other, it seems that you two just can’t escape the attention. the appetizers arrive a minute later and the two of you indulge, unable to create any small talk or anything like that with your company. jihyo decides she’s craving a different type of appetizer as soon as she sees you wipe your lip subtly. 

“come with me to the restroom, the main courses won’t be out for a little while.” jihyo insists, then looks around at the men busy with their bread, butter, and various other appetizers that sound too complicated for how they look. “besides, i'd rather be alone with you than surrounded by them for the time being.” 

once again, a tremor of anticipation seeps through you, your breath quivers with a mix of nerves and eagerness. jihyo just get’s bolder by the second. 

although it’s a simple trip to the restroom – a countless number of times you and your friends have scurried off to the comofrting ‘sanctuary’ of the girls’ room for meaningless conversations and minuscule touches of makeup – yet, with jihyo accompanying you now instead of your stupid best friends, your mind is propelled into an intricate labyrinth of scenarios, infused with explicit scenarios that jihyo stars in.  

- 

jihyo gracefully positions herself before the strangely exquisite mirror, which is not only unreasonably large and fancy, but it also manages to delicately enhance her plump lips after applying a fresh coat of lipstick. as she caresses her captivating pout, you become mesmerized by the subtle dance of her lips, gently gliding against each other like silk. she releases her pursed lips with a faint “pop” sound before she looks at you through the mirror. 

“daydreaming again?” jihyo asks. you shake your head and walk over to the sink next to her before fixing your hair for no apparent reason. a smirk tugs at her lip sbefore she turns so that her back is facing you. “zip up my dress for me? seems to have gone loose.” 

without a word, you move your hands over to deftly maneurver the zipper along the length of her dress. the entire tableau unfolds so quickly, though there’s an unexpected intamacy that lingers in the air, seeming slightly out of place but it’s also undeniably enticing. your hold your breath unknowingly. 

“you know y/n,” jihyo starts, your hands still on the zipper. “you’re so easy to rile up, it’s cute.” 

“what?” you respond with disbelief, pretending that her statement isn’t the turth. she turns around and tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she draws her attention down to your lips – now parted – then brings a thumb to graze the bottom lip. 

“c’mon baby, think i didn’t notice how you were in the car?” she chuckles, now moving her fingers down to your chin and moving and pushing down on your chin to tilt your head down just barely. “staring at my chest and all of me so clearly in my own house... darling, do you think i’m a fool?” 

you gulp, her eyes peering into yours and waiting for an answer. you’re absolutely dumbfounded, cheeks burning violently. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to--” 

“oh honey, i'm not against it.” she assures, smiling at you and bringer her hand down to play with the dainty necklace around you rneck. “if anything, i want you just as much as you seem to crave me.” 

“i--” 

she cuts you off, pressing a chaste peck to your lips. when she pulls away, you subconciously lean forward to catch her lips again, whining lowly. jihyo giggles softly before putting her thumb against your lips, adding pressure to halt your eagerness. 

“gosh, you’re adorable.” jihyo says, “i could just ruin your pretty little self right here.” 

“jihyo, please” 

she laughs, pleased, raising her brows and smirking at this new, desperate y/n she’s brought to the surface.  

“tell me how much you want me and i'll let you have more, can you do that?” 

your cheeks are on fire and so are your ears. jihyo pulls away further so she can fully see your face, stroking her knuckles down the curve of your cheek. you swallow shallowly before opening your mouth to speak, but hesitate.  

“c’mon baby, use your words for me. you can do that, can’t you?” 

“yes, yeah,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice stable. jihyo smiles, then presses a haste kiss to your jaw. your breath out shakily, bringing a hand to jihyo’s forearm.  

this has to be a dream, there’s no way matt’s aunt is this close to you – and like this. jihyo's pressing kisses down your jawline and neck, nibbling softly and eliciting sharp breaths. everything feels unreal, it’s so unexpected and you don’t know what to do while she brings a knee in between your legs. 

“i’m going to stop if you don’t tell me what you want pretty girl.” 

you sigh, almost moaning at the way her voice bounces off your skin.  

“someone’s going to walk in...” you mumble, placing your hand on her waist. 

“isn’t that part of the thrill?” jihyo asks, “tell me what you want.” 

“kiss me, please jihyo.” 

“that all?” 

of course it’s not all, you want to be pushed to the point of tears and incoherent sobs – but not here, not now. you can only groan at the untimely situation, wanting jihyo to take your time with you someplace less unorthodox. 

“when we go back... i want you to... do more.” you mumble shyly, watching jihyo move away from your neck so that she’s inches away from your face. her lips curl up into a mischievous smile as she twirls your hair. 

“i’ll take it easy on you for now,” jihyo chuckles, “come here.” 

without hesitation you lean forward, messily and eagerly meeting jihyo’s lips again. the two of you get used to everything and ease into each other’s contact, jihyo leading the way. she tugs on your bottom lip gently and you gasp, which gives her the chance to slide her tongue in and explore your mouth. 

you’ve madeout with girls countless times, but it’s always been messy, rushed, and the only thing you could taste and smell was cheap aochol. your past experiences have been nothing like what’s happening right now. 

you can taste the hints of fruit and slight vanilla in that expensive white wine from earlier, it’s even better when you get to taste it off of jihyo. she tastes divine. she’s so precise and skilled with her tongue and lips, immediately adjusting to the pace of the moment and ultimately leaving your knees weak. jihyo's fucking skilled, she knows what she’s doing and everything feels so goddamn euphoric. 

she pushes you against the marble of the sink area and you moan into her mouth when she squeezes your ass, making her smirk against your lips cheekily. you’re like a puppet in her control, and she knows just the right movements and subtle touches to get you going. 

jihyo pulls away suddenly and you whine, trying to pull her back. she holds you in place firmly, lingering near your lips and chuckling against them.  

“why-- why did you stop?” you ask desperately, pathetically pinching the fabric of her dress tighter.  

“pretty girl, you’ve forgotten where we are haven’t you? the main course might be out.” 

“but jihyo--” 

“listen,” she says sternly, sending a shiver down your spine. a soft smile is displayed, which soothes your nerves after witnessing it. jihyo tucks your hair behind her ear. “let’s make a deal, how about that?” 

“okay,” 

“if you can...” she starts, twirling the hair on the nape of your neck. “...be good for me and stay patient, then i'll reward you when we get back to the house. can you be good for me pretty?” 

a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to respond. you try your best to do so anyway. 

“mhm, i can.” 

“good. i'd love to ruin you right here, don’t get me wrong, but there’s other guests that expect me to be present.” 

fuck those other guests, you need to take her right here and right now. she can’t just rile you up like this, give you the best makeout session of your life and then end it so abruptly. regardless, she possesses an innate power - she's jihyo. you're completely enthralled and under her control anyway, whether you know it or not. 

she lets out a cold, menacing chuckle and flashes you a provocative grin. she delicately reshapes your disheveled hair and then tends to her own cascade flowing down. you can feel the lingering presnce of her own lips on yours -- slightly swollen and vividly tinted -- and although jihyo remains unfazed by the evidence of her artistry, it's clear she revels in your visible discomposure. if others were to connect the dots, she couldn't care less; if anything, she welcomes it. she's evil, and all you want is more of her. 

so you’ll have to behave for the time being, because who knows what she’s capable of. 

- 

“ah, you’re back park. the food got here ten minutes ago.” samuel says, raising a brow in suspicion.  

the men’s plates are already half eaten, and then there’s two plates that are left untouched on the table. jihyo eyes you, raising her brow before elegantly reaching for her utensils. 

she clears her throat and lies, “lady troubles.” which earns a flush on each of the men’s faces, and a brief apology from samuel. 

the remainder of the dinner becomes utterly unbearable. it’s not just the men engaging in dumb, uninteresting conversations -- which require you to perform an artificial smile, direct focus, and provide meaningless responses - but underneath the table, jihyo teases you. her delicate hand grazes your thigh intermittently. the whole thing is excruciating, causing an overwhelming surge of sexual frustration that genuinely throbs between your legs. the only thing you crave right now is her touch again; you don’t know how many more times you can utter “oh how interesting,” before exploding completely. 

an hour passes and it’s finally time for jihyo to bid her farewells, finally. 

the farewells’ had to take at least ten minutes, since jihyo’s pretty high up there in whatever she does. you never really knew, but it wasn’t your place to ask. 

jihyo unlocks her black porsche, which is remarkably eye-catching, though not as much as the driver. you get in the passenger's side and she’s already inside turning the engine on, one hand on the stick. she backs up smoothly, then gets out of the parking lot quickly. 

the car ride is almost silent for three-quarters, the only thing that pokes at the tension is jihyo’s hand on your thigh. she's driving one handed, it’s a common skill – you drive one handed here and there – but when jihyo does it, your thighs try to ease whatever is going on in between. 

“did you enjoy the meal?” jihyo asks, eyes on the road. 

“yeah, it was great.” 

“mhm,” she hums, then squeezes your flesh a bit. “how was the dessert? did it suit your tastes?” 

you let out a shallow breath, “yeah.” 

“good.” jihyo says, then smiles to herself. “we’re almost home.” 

you can only hum in response, growing impatient. 

jihyo clicks a button and the garage door opens, then drives in slowly. she has to be doing this on purpose, just to test you. you’re going to endure the aching, because at the end of the rainbow there’s always gold, and you’re her good girl. 

when you enter the house, it’s completely dark, then jihyo turns on the light and you have to fight the urge to kiss her again. 

“come,” she orders, turning to walk towards the stairs to the second floor. she's swaying her hips a little on purpose, she must be – or you’re just horny, or both. 

finally, after what seemed like centuries, you make it to her room. she closes the door behind you as you walk in. 

“sit down on the bed for me.” you do as you’re told wihtout hesitation, sitting down on the soft mattress of the king sized bed. the sheets are perfectly set on the bed, so are the blankets and pillows, but something tells you that it won’t be like that by the end of this night. “good girl.” 

she glides towards you, delicately raising your chin and fixing her gaze upon you, like an artist admiring a masterpiece. she revels in the sight of your flushed cheeks, the gentle parting of your lips, and the slight up turn of your brows, all traits that make this vulnerable rendition of you enticingly irresistible. her eyes grow dark, consumed by a yearning that she has now ardently realized; this is what she’s been wanting ever since she first laid eyes on you. 

“clothes off for me sweetheart.” immediately, you start to slip yourself out of the dress. jihyo decides to be generous, helping you out a bit since she’s quite eager herself.  

now, you find yourself perched delicately on the edge of her bed, goosebumps on your skin even as warmth envelops you. you’re nearly exposed, clad only in delicate undergarments that hold jihyo's gaze captive. a sigh escapes her lips, swiftly followed by a mischievous smirk, a telltale sign of her satisfaction.  

jihyo's going to have the meal of her life, nothing she had for dinner that night would ever compare to you. she hasn’t even gotten a taste of your arousal yet, but she already knows. 

“you’re beautiful,” she mutters before closing the distance, kissing you on the lips. you sink into all of it: the hand on your cheek, the knee shifting in between your legs, and simply her touch.  

she maneuvers your body onto the bed, positioning herself on top, ensnaring your legs with her own. with an air of urgency, she kisses you harshly, whisking away the very essence of oxygen from your lungs. she pulls away to see you all hot and heavy, watching the desperate rise and fall of your chest while your eyes meet hers in a gaze brimming with insatiable lust.  

“up,” she mutters, to which to respond by propping yourself on your elbows. she skillfully works away at the clasp of your bra, unclipping it and throwing the garment some place off the bed. “god, you’re so beautiful, you know?” jihyo says before fastening her lips on your neck, sucking violently. 

as your voice becomes stifled, attempting to form words proves worthless under jihyo's intimate touch. she delicately explores your body, her lips grazing your neck, causing shivers to cascade down your spine. the symphony of your helpless moans resonates wonderfully, she just wants every ounce of pleasure you can offer, greedy for all of you. 

“f-fuck, oh my god...” you groan helplessly, squirming under jihyo as her mouth starts to tend to your tits. your hand lands in her hair, gripping tightly as her tongue swirls around your perked up bud. her tongue was great in your mouht, but holy shit it’s ten times better when pushing you near your climax. she hasn’t even touched the ache in between in your legs and you feel like you could cum right then and there. 

jihyo gets up and looks down on you like a predator would with its prey, eyeing your vulnerable, exposed body that she’s ravenous for. there are marks along your neck and chest, jihyo’s artwork looking better than anything a museum could hold. 

she still has her dress on, though it swiftly finds the floor in a few moments. your gaze becomes fixed upon her, witnessing a new prize the further the dress drops down. in the wake of this unveiling, she stands before you, clad only in undergarments—pricey, hot looking ones. your eyes fixate upon her chest and the sight of her tits leaves you wide eyed. the alluring contours of her abdomen draw your attention next, effortlessly accentuating her absolutely unreal, fit body. she leans back slightly and her ass catches your attention, rendering you speechless. everything about her is divine and you find yourself completely engulfed in desire.  

all of this is so unreal and you figure it has to be one of those dreams that gets cut off by the alarm for your morning classes; but no, this is real, it’s especially real as jihyo slides her hand down from the top of your chest to just above your waist. her fingers tease the fabric covering your cunt, tantalizingly grazing it. 

“want me inside baby?” jihyo asks, subtly sticking her fingers under the edges of the fabric. you nod desperately, which makes jihyo laugh. “gosh you’re so wet honey, need me that badly?” she teases, and you can only respond with a weak hum. 

she slides off your panties quickly, you whimper pathetically in response her skin encounters wetness. 

her fingers glide slowly along your folds, easily moving up and down with how aroused you are. she brings her fingers back to her lips, getting a faint taste as your back subconciously arches against the mattress.  

“want me inside?” 

“please.” 

“beg harder.” jihyo chuckles, moving her fingers back to your pussy and teasing you carelessly as she lightly slides up and down the damp folds.“i won’t let you get it that easy. if you want something i want to hear you say it, sugar.” 

you whine, breathing out through your parted lips.  

“please, i need your fingers inside jihyo,” you sigh, voice all nasally and airy. “i want you to fuck me how you want, just make me cum please, you can have your way with me i don’t care. fuck, i'm all yours.” 

“perfect.” she says, then harshly pushes two fingers into your dripping cunt. your head shoots back into the pillow it’s on and your fingers grip the sheets tightly, the curse you cry out practically echoes throughout the room.  

she pounds into you with those slender fingers, maneuvering skillfully inside and out, curving at the right spots and leaving you breathless. tears form at the corners of your eyes, her other hand holds you down, pushing down on the middle of your torso to keep you from squirming so much. 

the amount of pressure she adds to your clit occasionally renders you weak, you’re a moaning, squirming hot mess and jihyo has never been this turned on in years. 

an indescribable sound escapes your lips, a melodic symphony of affirmation and inclination. jihyo's fingers plunge in and out, in and out – delving deeper into the depths of your core with each intoxicating thrust. she retreats momentarily before venturing even further, introducing a third digit into the hypnotic rhythm.  

i'm fucked. 

there was this sensation of being utterly reinvigorated, inside and out, in the most euphoric way that only your moans could describe. you've never been fucked this good, seriously, you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this turned on and goddamn submissive. it's insane how quick and easy jihyo managed to do it. 

the knot in your stomach seems tighter and you’re about to find out just how goddamn well it feels to come undone because of park fucking jihyo. matt's aunt. 

“f-fuck i'm, hnnh i'm so close--” you whimper, voice dying down in your throat, “p-please,”  

“god you’re so beautiful,” jihyo says right before hitting your clit with her palm as she pushes into you. then, with a stronger arch and near sob, you tighten around her fingers and grip the sheets tightly, clinging on for dear life as you reach your high.  

jihyo pulls her fingers out and massages your clit lightly, still stimulating you as you recover. your legs are shaking, still, and your ribs are exposed as you lay there and breathe heavily.  

“be a good girl for me, y/n, you can do that. you will.” jihyo says before slamming into you again with three digits, making you gasp from surprise and pleasure. you've barely had time to recover, and yet jihyo is torturing you yet again. 

it feels like your pussy is being torn to shreds, you can hear the “squelch” and clap with every point of contact. 

you try to say something – exactly what, jihyo doesn’t know or minds because she’s too infatueted with every jolt and twitch of your body – and then you let out another loud cry that sounds something like “fuck,” before your body goes limp, twitching every now and then.  

she pulls her hand out – dampened with your clear arousal – and gets a taste of her middle and pointer finger. she drags her fingertips up along your torso -- sending a shiver down your spine – then brings her damp fingers to your mouth. 

“open.” 

without hesitation, you comply, tasting your own arousal off her skin by swirling your tongue messily. your eyes lock with hers before you suck, going down to the base of where her fingers connect and sliding up until you get all of your arousal off. 

“good girl.” 

she slides down your body, now she’s facing your cunt directly. you shiver in anticipation, a little scared but for the most part turned on one hundred times more than ever. she presses a sweet kiss to your pussy – quite different from how ruthless she was earlier – before she indulges, making you press the back of your hand against your forehead. 

god her tongue, it’s like it’s made to leave girls like you fighting for air. she holds your thighs, pressing her fingers into your flesh as she absolutely devours you. it's not too long before you feel that same knot in your stomach, and this time to leave you screaming she simply flattens her tongue against your sensitivity and sucks on your clit harshly. 

there's tears on your cheeks now, and more start to trail down as jihyo starts to fuck you dumb again. whatever is leaving your mouth is incoherent, practically gibberish as you squirm around. she forcefully spreads your thighs apart – which says a lot about her stretngth considering how you’re getting fucked into oblivion – keeping oyu in place even as you start to turn your body and roll onto your side desperately.  

“you taste so, mmh, good.” jihyo mumbles, “fuck, this is better than the dessert we had.” 

you can barely comprehend what she’s saying because your minds so goddamn foggy and you’re literally sobbing from how overwhelming everything is. but it feels so good, if she stopped you’d be crying for a different reason rather than pleasure. 

jihyo feels your thighs shake beside her head, then feels a hand on her head gripping her hair tightly and pushing down against your cunt before the trembling stops. the cry you let out stops before it leaves your mouth, so you cum with an airy, choked out sob.  

jihyo's gaze fixates upon your pulsing, swollen cunt – dripping with your sweet arousal. she rises to her knees, gracefully straddling you, drawing her attention to the rise and fall of your chest. your disheveled hair frames your features, adorned with a rosy flush and the remnants of tears. a soft smile dances upon her lips, a testament to the mess she’s made. 

jihyo falls down to your tummy, scattering feathery kisses. she ascends to your chest, your neck, and at last, your lips. you kiss her sloppily, weakly reaching to cup her cheek while she traps your top lip between both of hers. she pulls away and fixes up your hair, then rubs her thumb along your tear stained skin. 

“you did so good for me baby,” she assures, watching you sniffle. “are you alright?” 

“yeah.” you mumble weakly, smiling softly at her. “i just, need to relax.” you chuckle softly before jihyo pecks your lips again. 

“i’ll help you clean up, stay here pretty.” jihyo says, rubbing your rib with her thumb softly. 

-- 

the two of you wake up an hour before lunch the next morning. jihyo rubs your thigh with her hand, massaging it to reduce the soreness. she insists that you two get up since matt is coming over in a few hours and it takes a while for you to get down the stairs without falling – jihyo did a great job, your legs are wobbly and aching– but nonetheless you make it downstairs to the kitchen. 

jihyo lets you set your head on your cross arms over the counter since you’re so drowsy, she laughs and presses a kiss before fetching ingredients for lunch. you watch her with tired eyes; her muscles flex and tense as she assembles the ingredients for the sandwiches, leaving you stupidly mesmerized. 

you get up and stretch your arms out, then walk over to the older woman. a short giggle leaves your lips as you wrap your hands around jihyo’s waist, she laughs wholeheartedly. 

“did you need something?” 

you kiss her head and linger before responding, “no, you just looked good from the back.” 

“i have to cook lunch, matt is coming home in an hour.” jihyo says, turning to face you, lips inches away from yours.  

as you carefully adjust the stovetop temperature to a low, your gaze lands on jihyo, prompting a mischievous smile to play upon your lips. your hands rest on her waist, you turn her body to face you, drawing her nearer with a subtle bite of your lip. jihyo rolls her eyes, a familiar exchange between you both, before your lips meet, you smile into it as you always do. 

jihyo guides you towards the kitchen island, never relenting on the heat of her kisses. an involuntary groan escapes your lips as she playfully bites your lower lip, igniting subtle throbbing sensations in you. her lips, feather-light, wander along your jawline, slowly tracing the curves of your face like a breeze meeting petals of a flower.  

mindful of your pleasure, you tilt your head back, granting her unrestricted access. her tongue traces your sensitive skin, a captivating and sensuous touch that sends shivers down your spine. jihyo has this power of leaving you breathless in seconds. in the moments between kisses, delightful giggles escape jihyo's lips. 

“you’re such a--” another kiss to your jaw, “--tease.” jihyo says unbelievably.  

“and you’re the one who’s ah- enjoying this.” 

jihyo squeezes your ass gently before kissing your lips again, backing you into the marble of the counter and placing her hands on the edge as she smiles into you. 

lost in pleasure and eagerness, the two of oyu fail to hear the sound of the door being unlocked, opened, and then closed. jihyo's hand slides just barely under your shirt, tickling your ribcage with the brush of her fingers. you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her closer, turning your head a little more to get a better taste, to get more of jihyo. 

“um, y/n?” a voice interrupts the two of you, and it’s too familiar.  

it unfolds like a movie scene; you and jihyo turn to find matt standing there, gripping a backpack strap tightly, his visage a mix of appalled and perplexed. in a rush of apprehension, both of you instinctively release each other, striving to create as much distance as possible while smoothing down stray strands of hair and meticulously adjusting wrinkled garments. 

“matt,” jihyo says, trying to recompose herself—but the blush on her cheeks doesn’t die down whatsoever. “you’re home early. i thought you were coming back at 1?” 

“yeah...” he says awkwardly, embarassed and flushed as he tries to avoid any eye contact. “i was just going to say hi and um, work on homework.” 

“alright, i was just making dinner with--” jihyo clears her throat, “y/n.” 

matt looks between the two of you, narrowing his eyes and sighing.  

“how long have you two been... doing this?” 

you and jihyo exchange a look before you decide to speak up this time, “let’s all sit down at the table and talk about this, how about that?” 

now, you’re trying to form the words to explain that you’ve fucked some kid's aunt the night before, and jihyo’s trying to do properly conjure up a sentence that explains the marks on your neck. 

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Nocturnal ballads [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

if you have never heard Etta James please do, her songs are beautiful. It is mentioned in this fic: At Last, All I Could Do Was Cry and Stormy Weather. Enjoy! <3

It was Sunday night, and the rainy air blew softly in the window of your shared apartment. You'd made coffee and drank your own cup while Spencer had barely touched his, which was somewhere among the notes, books, and case folders scattered across the expanse of his desk. For hours he intended to write a new article for a magazine that had requested it, but the task was getting more complicated than expected. With the passing of the months with him you had gotten used to him spending a lot of time studying in silence, reading, or just sitting on the couch too busy with his own thoughts, but this time it seemed to be something different. He didn't look comfortable with the task, the frown on his pretty face had never left him and the pen that was supposed to be used to write the words on his notebook was spent most of the time between his teeth.

It wasn't just a matter of that day, but lately he seemed to be more stressed than usual and a little more scattered. You didn't want to be invading his personal space or pressure him to talk to you because things had never worked out that way, however, that didn't free you from worrying about his condition.

When you finally got fed up with seeing him in that state you got up from your spot on the window sill and set your mug down on the bookshelf before cautiously approaching him. His hunched position on the chair was something that you had tried to get him to correct many times, nevertheless, it was almost natural for you to see him like this.

“Hey,” Spencer squealed, as he felt your arms wrap around his chest from behind, as if he'd barely remembered that you existed in the same space as him. Your head rested on his shoulder, giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss you on the cheek.

"Why don't you rest for a while, my love?" you asked kindly, close to his ear, as you turned your head to get a better look at him and moved your hands up and down his disheveled shirt. Spencer sighed at the warmth of your body against his and tilted his head back until it nestled against yours.

"I would like to, but I have to finish this today because I'm probably busy with a case tomorrow and I honestly feel like I haven't made any progress."

“It is because you are very tense. You won't be able to write anything if you're stressed” you assured him. You separated from him and your boyfriend complained about it, following you with his gaze towards the record player installed next to the bookcase.

The device was one of the objects that he brought from his own apartment and little by little you had helped him expand the collection that you jealously kept in the compartment under the furniture that you had bought. There was everything from old or classical music that he liked to some of the pop artists of the moment.

"What are you going to do?"

"You'll see" you smiled, squatting down to look for a particular record. When you got it out of his cover you placed it against the needle and manually fast-forwarded a couple of songs, not even noticing which one was playing "Come on, get up."

"What?"

"Get up" you repeated to your boyfriend, who had been carefully watching all your movements from his place "Let's dance"

"You're not talking seriously"

"Yes I do, very seriously," you said firmly, as you reached over to take his hand "Up"

"But I don't know how to do it!" he complained between laughs, while you maneuvered to get him out of the chair.

"I don't care, I just want you to dance with me" you insisted, pulling him towards you with a force that he didn't resist. Although he didn't seem very enthusiastic about the idea, he had never been able to deny you anything, so you dragged him to the center of the room and placed his hands on your waist, while you wrapped yours around his shoulders.

Spencer smiled and shook his head, incredulous that you'd take him out of his weekend chores to do that, and you started swaying back and forth to the music. You had placed the record At Last! From Etta James (one from Spencer's collection) and suddenly the title track filled the air.

At last

My love has come along…

“I love this song” he hummed, hearing the initial notes, closing his eyes with pleasure and a smile lighting up his face “Did you know that Etta won six Grammys in her career? Besides, she…”

“Spence” you cut it off right away. You hated doing it, but right now you didn't need that marvelous brain spouting facts about '60s blues “Don't think. Just relax"

Saying this, you took advantage of the position of your hands to caress the extension of his neck and shoulders, as if you wanted to remind him that he should release the accumulated tension in that area instead of getting more. You knew that asking him to stop thinking was like asking him to stop breathing, but for once he would have to try.

He wasn't offended by your request, but inhaled deeply and closed his eyes again to enjoy your hands walking over his body, thinking meanwhile that maybe you were right and his mind needed a well-deserved rest.

“That's it,” you praised softly, continuing your work and watching him relax as you rocked back and forth, “Just listen to the music, let yourself go…”

Little by little the man's body felt lighter and lighter, until it was enough to pull him a little towards you and he basically dropped all his weight on your body. His head had been hidden in the crook of your neck and his arms were now completely encircling you, as if he wanted to hold you as close as possible.

"You are a dream," he said, following the song, his voice drowned out by the series of soft kisses he began to leave on your bare skin.

It was obvious that he was tired and that little dance scene had only been the perfect excuse for him to finally allow himself to be aware of how physically the effort made during the day was hurting him.

“And you can call me your own,” you whispered with a smile, proud of your own witty follow-up to lyrics you'd only heard once or twice.

Your hand moved up to his head and as you began to caress his scalp you felt the man melt, if he could melt more, against you.

You guys didn't say anything for the rest of the song, but the romantic lyrics took care of conveying any sentiment. Spencer thought he could fall asleep right there, with the gentle rhythm of your bodies dancing as reason enough to lull him to sleep.

All I could do was cry, it didn't have particularly romantic lyrics, but being a slow song, you guys were able to keep rocking. Tenderly you pulled your man apart a bit and although his dismayed face made you feel guilty the laugh that replaced it when you gave him an exaggerated turn on his spot was enough to make you feel better. It was obvious that there was a considerable difference in height between you, so for said turn he had to crouch down a little, but when he recovered his normal position he pressed you against him, palms firmly planted on your lower back and now facing you.

"It's so sad"

"What, pretty?"

"The song," he whispered, a pout forming on his lips. Although you laughed, you agreed with him that it was indeed a very unfortunate ballad.

You guys danced throughout the tune and although Stormy Weather didn't represent a more positive outlook in terms of lyrics, this didn't stop you from staying in your perfect bubble of love.

Spencer was watching you from above with a completely entranced smile and you, from below, were looking at him with the most loving sparkle shining in your eyes. You loved him with everything he stood for and wished with all your might that you could do something to make him realize that he needed to take better care of himself and sometimes allow himself to steal these little moments from life to keep them in the heart.

"How do you feel now?" you suddenly asked. It was enough to see his face to realize the answer, but you wanted to hear it coming from him.

"I don't even remember what I was doing before this" he confessed to you, with a shy smile that made you smile too "I don't even know what I was doing before you. How was it that I could live so many years like this? Without the most perfect woman of all who came to rescue me from my own filth" 

"Oh, come on," you laughed, a blush already spreading across your cheeks at the compliment "It wasn't a big deal, sometimes it just takes a little attitude to lift the mood.”

"I love you like you can't imagine, have I ever told you before?" he continued, ignoring your attempts to look modest. "And I'm sorry I'm so bitter sometimes."

“You're not” you assured him, taking his face in your hands “Oh well, just a little bit. But nothing I can't tolerate” you teased, hearing his melodious laughter fill your ears.

You carefully stood on your toes so you could give him a gentle and warm kiss, which Spencer responded with all the joy in the world, while he held you better to avoid any effort. When you separated you stayed close, so much so that when you spoke you did it exhaling on his lips.

“Oh, and by the way…”

"Yeah, honey?"

"I love you too" you clarified with a smile. And then you melted into another kiss.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

[wolven91]

The Predator Café - Chapter 3

Pip couldn't concentrate on his work.

It had been roughly a week since his extraordinary adventure and his melancholy and doubt had returned like a bad smell seeping through the walls. It was as if the world outside of the Café had slowly lost its colour, rendering his time at college a grey, boring and dulled affair. He pushed his palms into his closed eyes and rubbed vigorously. He watched the swirls that played out on the back of his eyelids for a time while he remained hunched over his desk. He remained quite conflicted.

He'd seen very little of Geegee in the last week since returning in the early morning. The cowardly lizard had the good taste to eventually appear and apologise whilst acting fairly sheepish. But after muttering a half-hearted apology, he then considered the matter closed and refused to acknowledge the excursion as if it had never happened in the first place. Furthermore, no matter how Pip tried to suggest going back, Geegee simply repeated the usual phrases one would come to expect from a die-hard herbivore that preferred to keep the pred/prey social line clearly defined.

He used words like 'unnatural' and 'untrustworthy'.

Pip leaned back in his chair and felt his spine pop. It was only just getting dark and signalled the start of another long and quiet weekend. As it was before he had explored the Café.

He considered going back, but physically shook his head to try and dislodge the thought. With the passion of the moment gone and Geegee's words ringing in his ears, Pip had kicked himself for letting himself get so enamoured with the towering Human.

When he cornered the Geckin to talk about going back, Geegee pressed that he was a friend and an ally to Pip. He would never give advice that the Geckin wouldn't take himself. He went on to point out that whatever Pip had seen or felt to make him stay as long as he did, were aspects that he just wanted to see. 'The Human' as the geckin described her, refusing to use her name, was just doing her job. She was a waitress; she was meant to be kind and even mildly flirtatious.

He ended his undermining of Pip's confidence about her by pointing out that she probably felt the same way as Geegee did, but from the other side; predators and larger predators especially, preferred their own kind and their own size. It was a fact that everyone knew and never said out loud. Pip didn't want to believe it, but the Geckin's words wouldn't stop rattling around his mind.

Pip couldn't even ask someone else their opinion on the matter either, how the hell do you explain a Predator Café? It was too new of a concept to talk to family about it and the only others that he could chat to were the insectoids. He 'humph'd' to himself. Yeah right.

The four walls of his room seemed to close in on the depressed Chintian, his kind were social; the isolation was affecting him far more than he first thought it would. He was never outwardly confident, but he had never second guessed himself in this manner before. What was worst was that he was now struggling to even finish his damn work!

Perhaps a change of environment to study?

He could take his tablet anywhere after all. He could proofread his work outside of this near-prison cell that was supposed to be a home for the next few years.

The Café was supplied as an 'innocent' suggestion from the back of his mind. His ears went flat.

No, he was just saying that to just go there, not to actually do his work. Regardless of his 'secret' desire to see Natasha again, this project did need to be finished soon.

The library?

No, the insectoids lock that down at the weekends. They seemed to be single minded in their path for further education, seemingly refusing to relax or do anything else. They will have taken up every comfortable seat and would stare at him until he left.

The canteen?

Again, the hard seats weren't comfortable and it was a cavernous room at his size, which would just highlight how he was on his own again.

...The Café..?

Damn his traitorous mind.

Arriving at the Café was a far greater hassle this time round. When he packed his bag and dressed himself for being seen in public, he hadn't realised just how dramatically the weather had changed for the worst. The rains pelted the city without mercy, the raised and covered passages allowed him to travel in relative safety from being washed away, but they weren't enclosed, so the wind whipped big, fat droplets to splash against him.

He was sodden by the time he got to the Café's street. He had to descend onto the communal pavement itself, he quickened his pace to rush to the door, hugging the wall.

Just as he reached the door; a giant, booted foot crashed into a small lake of rainwater that was collecting a foot or two away, completely covering the smaller mammal in a tidal wave. He froze in shock at the cold water, with his hand still resting on the handle of the door.

Pip stepped inside and stood in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs. He held his arms out to his sides to take note; his entire back was soaked. His jeans were damp and getting cold quickly. His bag had the good fortune of being waterproof, but he now felt ridiculous. He already had an opinion of himself that was lacking when comparing himself against Natasha, but right now he would be downright pathetic.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Taking a deep 'cleansing' breath, he successfully resisted the urge to scream at the top of his lungs.

Each boot 'squelched' with every stomp up the stairs, leaving small puddles that he hoped wouldn't be too much of a problem for whoever had to deal with his wake. Once again, a Friday night proved to be a quiet night for the Café as the waiting room was once again empty.

The welcoming voice from before once again greeted him brightly and directed him to a different booth this time. It wasn't Natasha's voice as he had initially suspected when he thought back, but no matter. He had it all planned out; he would set himself up to study, get a coffee every so often to pay his way and have a pleasant chat with her because he was completely casual and it was just a friendly happenstance that they'd bumped into each other again.

As he situated himself, the damp clothes made it difficult to settle himself in. Whilst they were getting warmer now that Pip was indoors, they remained uncomfortable. The jeans became constricting and his flannel shirt just felt warm and humid.

Picking up the tablet he thumbed his way to the bottom of the list like before, but paused when he got to the end without seeing her. Frowning he flicked back through before carefully going through each server individually.

She wasn't there and she wasn't out on the floor already either. He made a point to face the direction of the kitchens and counter this time and hadn't seen her at all.

His heart sank to his boots before selecting a server at random. He didn't even know or care as to who was coming. It didn't matter.

He opened his tablet and selected the coursework that he needed to review. He glumly sat there staring at the same sentence until his server cleared their throat.

“S-sorry, I was miles away.” Pip said, putting his tablet down and picking up the Café's before turning to the server. He flinched at the sight of him. It was another large one, this time an avian of sorts who clicked his large sharp beak before extending the crest on the top of his head in an extravagant display. A deep part of Pip hated everything about his actions and Pip had none of the desire that existed when Natasha had 'threatened' him.

“Welcome to the Predator Café, can I interest you in a bite?” The server said in a tone only one step away from 'bored-senseless'. This helped alleviate Pip’s worries as it took the edge out of the implied danger.

“Just a latte please. Can I order food later?” He asked, selecting his option on the tablet as well for confirmation.

“Sure thing dude.” Came the voice as he stomped away, the cutlery clattered slightly. Pip absently returned it to its rightful place.

Pip slumped down in his seat again. The Café was as quiet as it was before, maybe less so even, but he had lost interest in the place at this point. He was hopeless; why did he think this was a good idea?

He tried to get comfortable, still dripping and complete his work. He'd have dinner and go home to bed, tomorrow was shaping up to be a 'stay-in-bed' day.

After a few minutes, Pip's ears twitched as he overheard a conversation by the counter.

“Foose, what are you still doing here darlin'? Get goin', I owe you one for covering for me.”

“No problem, Nat, you just got one 'Herb' in Booth H to look after.”

Pip near broke his neck looking up the second he recognised the accent. She strode over to him, his tiny latte on an oversized tray, wearing a fanged smile that touched her eyes when she saw him. He went from the lowest of the low, to the highest high, even with the fear and anxiety that her teeth put within him.

She couldn't have been more beautiful than at this moment.

“Well now! Long time no see, stranger!” She said with an amused grin, which faltered for some catastrophic reason. The loss of her smile hit Pip quite heavily.

“I'll.. I'll be taking over from Foose, the server you selected; I hope you don't mind none. If you want a different server... You can reselect?” She explained and asked, seemingly distracted, but still staring intently at Pip.

He still reacted as he did the week before; his heart rate soared and he felt alive again, but he couldn't enjoy it whilst she had this concerned look.

“No, I'm more than happy with yourself Natasha, the pleasure's all mine. A-are you okay?” Pip asked, trying to be debonair in front of this Goddess.

“I have to ask sugar; why are you dripping wet?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, melting the poor mammal further.

“Oh.. yeah, I.. Well, I got splashed. It was all accidental.” He wasn't actually sure if it was accidental, either it was and the person didn't even know he existed or it wasn't and he ran the risk of encountering bigots. He didn't know which was worse, an attack on his pride or his person.

“You're soaked through, give me a sec' hun'.” She requested as the giant spun away and grabbed a clean towel from the kitchen.

“Here you go.” She said, gently unravelling the cloth more than twice Pip's size in front of him.

Pip dabbed at his face, but he wasn't going to really do more. He could live with his discomfort if it meant he could just talk with Natasha again.

She clicked her tongue with a 'tsk' and a disapproving look.

“Do you mind if I help ya' hun'? I think ya' missed a bit.” She said in a caring tone. Pip would have agreed to let her step on him if he thought that was what would make her happy.

“Of course!” He said automatically, not thinking of what she meant by the phrase.

===

Natasha had been running late that day. Her alarm had 'updated' itself to the station that she had come from's time, thanks to her connecting back home to speak with her parents. This, however, had left her wondering why she had so much free time today.

Until her heart stopped when she realised that she was definitely late to her job.

Thankfully, she had the staff member who's shift she was taking over from number. A fella that looked like an exotic parrot who went by 'Foose'. A good guy, but this was clearly just a paycheck to him. No shame or nothin', and she wasn't judging, but she had taken great pride in the compliments she was getting for her work; if he put a little extra into his day-to-day interactions, he could draw in way more money.

When she collected the drinks order, she took a peek at the customer to see a familiar face. One that she'd actually missed, her first proper customer. After having such a wonderful time just chatting about nothing and helping the lil' cutie with all his choices, he not only taught her where stuff was on the menu, but he seemed to open the floodgates of patrons not running from her. She'd only had about seven or eight make a runner when she approached since, the ones that stayed easily outstripping those few.

'Pip' as he called himself looked forlorn right up until he looked up and saw her approach. The little guy looked like he was about to burst and if nothing else, having someone so happy to see you, made Natasha's night.

As she approached though, she noticed that he didn't look as well-groomed as he did before. His fur was matted and noticeably damp. His clothes stuck to his body and he had left tiny puddles under the table. Oh my god, his feet don't touch the floor. Adorable.

Focus!

She gave 'the spiel' about how he could have any other server off the menu, but she wasn't exactly surprised when he dreamily confirmed he was happy to keep her. She couldn't stop looking at him, he was all smiles and doe eyes, but he was dishevelled and soaked from ear to tail.

When she offered him a tea towel to dry himself, he had sorted out his face, leaving his shirt to remain dripping.

Natasha was in unfamiliar territory here, he was being what her family had dubbed an 'aggressive guest', one that was hell-bent on being as little trouble as possible, that they refused themselves any comfort offered, because it would require the host to do work.

How you deal with these types, was to not ask and simply provide. She knew how to dry him off, but she needed his permission.

“Of course!” came his chipper reply.

Smiling to herself she reached out and plucked the sentient chipmunk from his seat.

She grasped him round the waist with her right hand, before depositing him onto his back across her left wrist. Her right hand snatched the towel and she brought it across the prone creature's front. She'd handled pets before at bath-time, she wasn't making the mistake of thinking him a dumb animal, she wouldn't dare insult him like that, but his size made it easy to simply move him and subject him to what needed to be done. She drug the towel down his tiny jeans, attempting to wick as much excess moisture as she could from his clothes before doing the same on the second leg.

She shuffled the towel until she had a dry section and tipped Pip against herself so she could get at his back, again, dragging the towel across the wet flannel shirt she could already see he was significantly drier. Finally, she worked on his tail, a thin pipe cleaner looking thing, she made certain not to squeeze it too hard or bend it in any way. She had no idea how flexible this thing was.

She returned him to his upward facing position as she gave her work a look over before giving him a nod and placing him back down just beside his booth. He stood still a moment before slumping backwards onto the booth's cushioned bench.

“There we go, ya' look much better now. So, how've ya' been Pip, aside from nearly drownin'?”

===

When Pip agreed to her help, he didn't expect the next thing to happen was for his life to flash before his eyes.

A freight train sized hand appeared suddenly and reached for him at great speed. In a flinch and a blink, he was squeezed in the middle, just below his ribs, by a set of pythons on either side. He left his stomach behind when he was pulled up and out of the booth as three more gigantically thick snakes wrapped around his legs holding him steady as he was reeled in towards her chest.

He was going to die; no other outcome was likely.

He didn't have time to panic about being squeezed to death, however, as the human effortlessly dropped him a short height, into her waiting grasp. His rear was cupped in her hand with his legs dangling either side of her palm, her fingers curled up and over to press into his belt line holding him securely in place. He didn't have time to worry about sensibilities as he could see the bus-sized towel drop towards him in the hand she'd used to grab him, but in putting up his hands in some semi-conscious attempt to stop her, meant that she just started to squeeze at his arms first with the mildly rough material.

He couldn't see her, or anything else for that matter, at this point. It heightened the physical feedback to a whole new level thanks to the adrenaline being dumped into his veins. He could feel her body heat through the towel as one arm was squeezed and pulled gently.

Then the other arm, a completely unstoppable force, was manipulating his body as if he were nothing. Then the towel pressed into his chest and pulled downwards. The buttons on his shirt dug in slightly, but he focused more on the soft flesh and the heat it was flooding into his back.

Then it was his leg's turn. One of the strongest muscle groups in his body, he regularly used the free gym and focused mainly on the treadmill, and yet; she pulled and pushed and squeezed and bent it without registering his full effort to retrieve the appendage back from her.

Then he was rolled suddenly onto his front, he threw an arm out in an attempt to stop him from falling, but he quickly hit a soft, yielding wall. Despite his current situation leaving his mind blank, he was not unaware of the fact that he was currently being pressed into Natasha's chest.

The towel returned to continue its assault, dragging itself down his back before grabbing at his tail.

Pip froze.

His tail was sensitive. It was just a bundle of nerves that when his species was still feral, they groomed one another's to strengthen trust and bonding. She was mercilessly grooming him in a manner no other chintain had experienced. Maybe ever?

And then? It was over. He had a solid floor under his feet and zero ability to stand.

The only thing that stopped him from falling flat into the booth was the table that his arm landed on, giving a level of stability.

He heard his name, bringing him back to reality.

“-aside from nearly drownin'?” She said with an expectant smirk across her beautiful, incredible face.

“I.. er.. I.. pardon?” He asked, slurring his words terribly.

“Ooh, ya' eyes are all dilated hun', are you okay? Oh god, have I screwed up? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to- I thought-” Her hands were nearly, but not quite touching him as if he was about to shatter.

He reached out and grasped a giant finger to try and forestall her.

“I'm fine, you're fine. I just.. I just didn't expect that... that's all. Thank you, Natasha, thank you for helping me.” he continued, trying to focus so his mind would stop being so fuzzy.

Taking a few minutes to calm down and shuffle his legs back under the table, he asked for some water to help calm him down. She left in a hurry and relented from blasting him with peppermint over and over. He needed her to go away for a moment so he could adjust his trousers properly. He had no idea if she saw his body's reaction to all this, but it was best to at least have some shame.

She returned and crouched down next to the booth, depositing the glass of water in front of him, but leaving a tentative hand on the floor inches from his leg.

“You're okay, it wasn't normal, just so you don't go grabbing anyone else, but I gave you permission and I feel significantly drier. Don't feel like you can't touch me, it was nice Natasha.” He said honestly.

She seemed to relax after a time and they began to converse as they had a week before. Although there was a sense of familiarity between the two now. Whatever barrier that was there before, was now gone; shattered completely.

Pip ended up staying well into the night and into the following morning. He had to share Natasha with other patrons as they came and went, but he used this time to get on with his work. It went quickly and he found several errors that should have been obvious before now.

“I should get going.” Pip said with a yawn. He'd worked all night and could feel that it was the start of a new day already.

“Well, this time I can see ya' out cutie. My shift's actually over now.” Natasha said with a tired tilt to her voice, but still warm nonetheless.

“See me out? You squeezing through my entrance or are you going to grab me again?”

She gave him a withering look, but the smirk betrayed any 'offence' she was suffering.

“I'll see you outside, you use the proper entrance. I'm not losing my job because we got brazen after getting away with a faux-par once. If my boss had seen that, he'd have me out by my ear!”

Pip chuckled as he got up and started to walk towards his exit.

“Don't leave without saying goodbye!”

“Wouldn't dream of it hun'.”

He practically skipped down the stairs back towards the outside world.

As he got to the door though, he realised the rain hadn't let up at all. Opening the door, he used an arm to shield his eyes from the fat droplets once more and looked around for Natasha. He found her not by her door, but at the remains of what was the entrance to the smaller entity's travel ways. At some point, something big and heavy had landed on top of it, completely crushing and blocking the only entrance in the area that Pip could think of.

“Well.. this is going to be a long walk...” he said, not relishing the idea of a hike that'll take him all day.

“Can you get a cab?” She suggested, looking from him to the mangled metal tunnels.

“Not cheaply and the buses don't start for several hours.” Pip said defeatedly.

“What were you meant to do today?”

“Nothing, I was going to have a lazy day.”

“Come to mine then, you can sleep until the buses start again at least.”

“...what?”

[railingsofsorrow]

you're my peace of mind

[regulus black x james potter]

summary: inspired by this post. or... in which james is anxious and regulus attempts to ground him with his touch.

pairing: j.potter x r.black (slightly friends to lovers, but this does not focus on romance)

w.c: 2.4K

warnings/content: discussion regarding anxiety + anxiety symptoms; anxiety medication; hurt/comfort.

A/N: hi I've been gone for a while but this idea helped me get back to writing. the way james is experiencing anxiety here is based on a personal experience, this is not how everyone who has anxiety reacts, people have different experiences. keep that in mind. anyway, enjoy this little oneshot :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Regulus is trying to pay attention to what the professor is explaining. He has been trying that for the past fifteen minutes. She's annotating something on the board, something important, probably. It will definitely be on her final exam. But he's too busy concentrating on the non-stop bouncing of James Potter's leg beside him to focus on the lecture, unfortunately.

Regulus is used to James's persona. He's restless. That is the exact adjective he uses to describe James whenever he has to. James is always doing something or looking for something to do. He can't stay still. Unless he's sleeping, then he doesn't move at all. Regulus doesn't understand how he can be so different in these two states but he stopped trying to understand James for a while now.

His mannerisms don't bother him to a great level anymore. They used to, sure. When he was eleven and the boy by his side stole all his older brother's attention to him. But thank god for communication and therapy because Sirius and him have quite a good relationship now. Healthy, you could say even. Perhaps due to their parents not being in the picture any longer.

Regulus warmed up to James. Well, he had to learn how to deal with him somehow because the prick couldn't stop following him around university after finding out he was also studying there and look at that! We share some classes together! Isn't that great, Reg?

No, it was, in fact, not great.

Until, well, Regulus warmed up to James.

It happened gradually. Nothing forced. Nothing fast. But at the right time. They became friends. Friends who occasionally sleep next to each other in bed. Friends who stare more than they should at each other. But, you know, friends.

Regulus enjoys James company. And it comes to a point where he recognises his walking through his apartment when he comes over unannounced. He has a spare key and he uses it whenever he feels like it. Regulus told him that wasn't a reason to use a spare key, James shrugged him off.

He knows James. He knows the way he blinks repeatedly when he's sleepy and the way he hates wearing shoes when he's home so he just walks around with the most ugly looking colourful socks ever.

He knows the bouncing of his leg when he's bothered by something. It's different when he's anxious. Even after several years of entering a common agreement that they are friends and that they can share anything with each other — James told him that himself in a particularly bad day of self isolation for Regulus. — James insists on hiding his hardships from Regulus. Or from anybody else, really. It's harder to do that to Sirius, because it's like James and Sirius share a fucking limb and can understand what's going on through countries away.

Something or someone made his anxiety spike up today. Regulus doesn't know which of the options it is yet, he has a hunch but he is not certain. Not that it matters, he can tell him the reason later when they're alone. Or not. It really doesn't matter.

It's understandable that James Potter's love language is touch. He's clingy. He likes holding hands and hugs from behind and intertwining legs during a movie marathon. He likes touch. It's comforting for him. Which is why Regulus slips his hand beneath their desk, head tilted forward towards the professor so she wouldn't call their attention — if she cares. Which she doesn't — halting right before reaching James's bouncing knee to squeeze softly.

It doesn't take two seconds for the bouncing to stop.

He keeps his hand there, drawing invisible patterns against the fabric of his jeans as he writes down something he considers important with his unoccupied hand. He hears the screeching of the chair moving beside him and James' warmth is finally inserted into his personal space. Their elbows are bumping from how close they are now, but Regulus doesn't care because James sinks his head into his shoulder. His thick curls caressing and tickling the side of his neck.

“James,” Regulus hushed out more urgently this time. “Are you okay?” And is such a dumb question. He knows that, he knows it is stupid to ask that to someone who's currently anxious for a reason he doesn't know but it was what got out.

James takes a hot minute to answer. The professor is wildly gesticulating with her hand and his ears are ringing. He shuts his eyes for a moment, maybe it would stop. “'m fine.”

“You're a shitty liar.” Regulus says, raising his hand to touch the back of his arm, seeking for the part of his body that always reveals the truth to him. He receives the verdict upon touching his hand. Clammy. “Do you want to leave?”

“We have five minutes left.”

“I don't care.”

“It's not that bad.” James blinks fast, raising his head from Regulus' shoulder. He was almost dozing off with his perfume grounding him to peace. James doesn't need his meds when Regulus is close to him. He feels a hundred percent recharged already.

Regulus lets him think he bought the excuse. When class is over, the stern voice at his ear is so damn near his neck that James might pass out. Really, what is he trying to do, get him to fold right over? James was about to do that. He would do anything for Regulus. So he stayed sat down as every other student exited the room. The annoyingly white room, filled with annoyingly bright lights that made his head pound and pound and— He's so thirsty. He forgot his water bottle. He forgot a lot of things today. He can't forget things, he's disrupting his own routine like that and routines are good, they are controlled and he can control them. Fuck, what was he supposed to do this afternoon?

He's in his dorm before he can realise.

The first thing he notices is that it is silent. His dorm is never silent, not with Sirius voice echoing off the walls whenever he's present, which is not the case now. James is guilty to admit he's happy, he loves his best friend to the moon and back but he needs silence now.

James calculates for how long he will get silence by Regulus' antsy movements around the room. What's he doing?

“Where are your pills, James?”

And that's when James’ whole body freezes. Oh. So maybe when Regulus told him that one time he knows him it is because he really knows him.

James is a smart boy, you see. He's organized — according to Regulus he's bit of a mess with organisation but to him, he is organised, okay! — he's good at sports and he likes exercising. He's athletic. He can't stay still. Why should he? If he has so much to do. What he does not like is having to stop doing the things he enjoys because his body is forcing him to rest. He doesn't want to rest. He doesn't want to stop thinking because how could he? He has so much to do and he doesn't have enough time! He needs things to be ready beforehand. James is good with deadlines. He never once delivered an assignment after it was supposed to do. James is never late, he's always on time. He's responsible. The thing is: he can't do all of this when he's taking a medication that makes him feel slow and numb. No. James is fast and full of energy and he's never late. But he can't control things when he's taking those pills so he doesn't want to take them anymore. He gets to decide that, right? He's an adult. Twenty-two years old, in college, living with his best friend, completely head over heels for his best friend's little brother... James is all grown up now, he gets to make his own decisions.

He misses his mum. He wished she could make his decisions sometimes, she has always been good with that. God, he misses everything. His old personality. His parents. His high school days. He misses being a kid and not having to deal with half the shit his head puts him through nowadays. He figures he doesn't like himself as he used to.

“Did you toss them into the toilet again?”

James moves his arm from his face, eyes fluttering slowly as his blurry vision adjusted enough to see the black haired figure open and close his drawers in a hastily manner.

“Don't need them.” James whispered stubbornly. “Come here, Reg. Cuddle me.”

“I will when you tell me where they are.” Suddenly, he halted in the middle of the room, slowly turning towards James on the bed. “James, did you run out?”

“Those stupid pills don't keep me from having anxiety attacks, you know that, right?” James sighs. “They're not useful at all.”

“They help you so they are useful.”

“I don't feel better with them.”

“Yes, you do.” Regulus fights back, shaking his head. “Have you been sleeping well? Have you been focusing? And don't lie, I know the answer to all of these questions.”

James shifts, running a hand through his face. He picks up his glasses that are on the bedside table and puts it on. Regulus is sitting at the edge of the bed, a few of his curls dangling on his forehead, barely touching his lashes. He likes that his strands have grown longer, he looks incredibly.... Ah. James can't do that.

“They're in the box inside my wardrobe.” He relents, watching Regulus immediately seek the hidden spot. James places his arm beneath his head, supporting it. He's not dizzy anymore, maybe it's the room with less people and less bright lights. That must have helped.

Regulus walks back to bed, the little prescription bottle between his fingers. The bed moves as he sits down again and James pointedly avoids looking at the vial.

“Withdraw is worse.”

James hums softly, pulling one of the boy's hands to him, holding it to his chest. Regulus lets him, but his serious look makes the situation slightly uncomfortable.

“James.”

“m' sorry.” James bit the inside of his cheek, big brown eyes drowning in grey ones. “I just don't like them.” He admits quietly. He feels weak. A coward. He shouldn't have to need those.

“I don't like mine either.” Regulus is surprised every time he catches himself spitting out some deep dark secret he swore he'd never say out loud. But it's James. And James would never use it against him, not like his parents did. James is kind and one of the strongest people he has met. He hates seeing him like this, thinking he can take on everything on his own. You don't have to. I'm right here. “But I'd rather take them than feel like that again.”

James wished he didn't know what like that meant, but he's seen it with his own eyes and it terrifies him a bit to know what it was like for Regulus before he actually started to take care of himself, before he decided that it was worth it to get help.

“I'm sorry,” James mumbles under his breath, feeling guilt gripping his heartstrings at the thought of his actions triggering Reg in some way. He didn't want that, that was never the intention.

“James.”

Regulus sits down beside him, the bottle of pills left aside so he could slip both of his hands into his, bringing him closer. James moved towards him as if being pulled by some magnetic force; he did always craved for Regulus' warmth.

“There is nothing wrong with you. Taking medication is not a sign of weakness, it just helps you to ground yourself. It helps with the symptoms that can be unbearable sometimes. Like it got today.” James observes the way Regulus caress his knuckles gently. He gets distracted by his voice and he feels like drifting off just at being close to him. Regulus. Why would he need any anxiety medication when he has Regulus? “James.” His attention is brought back by his angelic voice and his grey-blue eyes.

“Hi.”

Regulus smiles and James feels like he died and came back to life again. He's in heaven and he doesn't believe in hell when there's an angel right in front of him, proving him that peace exists.

“There's nothing wrong with you.” Regulus says it as a promise, hand lifting to touch James's cheeks, traveling his permanently cold fingers across the skin. James tilts his head and his lids drop. He leans forward and Regulus brings him in by a nudge at the back of his neck, James's nose burying in his shoulder. “Did you hear me?”

James hums, his curls tickling Regulus' neck as he manages to nod in agreement.

“Now say it while meaning it.”

James huffs out a laugh in surprise, which drags a grin out of Regulus. “What?” The dazed tanned boy asks, big brown eyes studying Regulus's features curiously.

“Say that there is nothing wrong with you.”

James blinks slowly, “I— Well. There is always something wrong with everyone, isn't there?”

Regulus quirks up a brow and James immediately clips his mouth shut.

“Fine. There is nothing wrong with me, Reg.” James rolls his eyes, lower lip jutting out in dismay.

Regulus seems satisfied. “That's good enough for now. I'll make sure you actually mean it someday.” He stands up and James misses his body as a dehydrated man misses water in a desert.

“Where are you going?”

Regulus closes the wardrobe door then walks towards the bedside table, placing the orange bottle right above one of the books Regulus had recommended to James recently — this one is a collection of poems, he wonders if he's enjoying it.

“We are going out,” Regulus says, turning around to face James, whose body is being supported by his elbows on the bed. He decides he can convince him to start the medication again tomorrow. Today, he would help him take the edge off.

James makes one of the expressions that Regulus relates to a puppy, completely endearing and Regulus can't help but smile. “C'mon, Potter. Get your butt up. And grab a jacket, it's chilly out there.”

“I never get cold.” James comments, jumping out of the comfort of his bed to follow Regulus wherever he wants him to. He grabs his jeans jacket on his way out. “But if I do, you can just—”

“James. Shut up.”

“— warm me up.” James offers him a cheeky grin to which Regulus' reaction was to slap his shoulder. James is still able to see the red flush on his cheeks as they walk out of the dorm room and he likes it.

[642stories]

Story #51, Winter Ficlets 12/26

Under the mistletoe

Read it on AO3

Scully sits behind the microscope studying the samples from their recent case. She’s in her white lab coat with her hair in a low ponytail, adjusting the lens now and again and checking the data on the screen next to her. She’s all business now, and when a heavy hand lands on her shoulder, she, by all means, should be alarmed and panicked; regardless, she doesn’t even stir. Having worked side by side sixty hours a week for six years straight makes her recognize Mulder with her eyes closed by his smell only. She smirks, not even bothering to tear her eyes away from the task at hand.

“Hi, doc,” he greets her and immediately begins to massage the knots in the back of her neck. He acts casually as if he does it all the time, and Scully doesn’t allow herself to read anything into his actions. It’s a mere comfort rub for a friend who’s been hunched over the substance analysis since the early morning as a favor for him. He’s just being grateful and attentive. 

“Hi yourself,” she sighs contentedly and bends her head lower, so her chin almost touches her chest, granting him better access. When he stops, she smiles at him and nods at the paper bag that rests on the desk next to a big cup of coffee. She’s fairly positive both weren’t there before.

“I see that you came with gifts.”

“Well, I thought since I’m the reason you are stuck in the lab, it’s the least I can do to cajole you into helping.”

“That I won’t argue with.”

“So I bore gifts, now you bear tidings.”

“I do have something for you. Look here.” Scully hops off her stool and motions him to come closer to look at the sample she was studying before. As Mulder is about to take a step, he almost jumps at the booming voice behind him.

“You gotta kiss her!’ He pivots and scans the room for the source of the sudden dissonance. At his right he spots Marcy, grinning ear to ear, a lab technician, who Scully once labeled as both her savior and wingman when it comes to lab work.

“Huh?” Mulder murmurs, acutely aware of the crowd staring at them.

“Mistletoe”, Marcy points somewhere above their heads, and both Mulder and Scully raise their eyes up to see the proverbial green leaves with a red ribbon tied around.

“Oh, come on, Mulder, don’t be shy,” someone else goads, whose voice, let alone the name, he doesn’t know.

He can feel his face flushing and notices that Scully’s pale cheeks turn all pink too. She probably curses her Irish roots now, but he secretly loves it. Not like he’s ever going to tell her that.

For about a minute, he contemplates giving her a chivalrous way out, but as soon as his eyes land on her mouth, he dismisses that thought. The pink tip of her tongue runs over her lipstick-clean lips, an unconscious gesture of nervousness and excitement at once. She’s biting her bottom lip, and in a matter of seconds, he finds himself leaning closer and catching that plump beckoning lip briefly between his teeth before locking their mouths together. Swaying, she lifts her arms and wraps them around his neck, and Mulder grabs her by the waist to steady them both. It’s a chaste kiss that lasts only a few seconds, and Mulder wishes he could kiss her again, and then some more, without all these people whooping and hollering. He can’t help but suppress a smile, and as Scully’s eyes flutter open, he notices that she is smiling too.

“Wow,” Marcy whistles. 

She pats Mulder playfully on the back, then steps in between so no one else can hear the three of them and whispers surreptitiously. “Get a room, guys.”

Taking a step back, Marcy waves at the crowd “OK, everyone, the show is over! Get back to work.”

While Mulder is reaching up to clear the space above off a green-leaved and red-ribboned offender, Scully gathers her wits and slips back into her full agent’s mode. She grabs a coffee he brought earlier and hides her burning face behind the cup. She takes a sip, clears her throat, turns back to the microscope, and then gestures for him to join her.

“Well, getting back to the blood sample you asked me to check, there’s something I wanted to show you.”

[vampire-the-askerade]

Hello! How are ya?

If you're in the mood, could you write something for Strauss x f!tremere that works really hard, maybe even *too* hard? Like, borderline thinking she will be killed or something if she fails (like college, where is she failed she would be terribly behind), so he shows up to her room to check on her and she is slouched over notes and almost hyperventilating so he has to calm her down and reassure her? General fluff and cuteness. <3

[Hello! I’m doing alright. So sorry this took a bit to get here, I’ve had the worst brain fog lately so words hated me for like a week or something, haha. Hopefully it was worth the wait though :)]

Strauss x f! Reader

There were many things that Strauss had learned during his many years of being a regent. One of these things was the difference between when someone hadn’t been seen in a while because they were busy and when someone hadn’t been seen in a while to the point of it being concerning. Such was what he suspected the case to be with you tonight.

When he had seen you at the end of the night before, it seemed like you were stressed about something, though he was not able to tell what that was. You had seemed troubled, but not so much that it was alarming at the time. However, Strauss had neither seen nor heard you at all tonight which became concerning as it was now pushing 1:00 in the morning. This was more than enough time for you to have risen from the hold of the morning and come down from your room; even if it was not to report to him, then for a myriad of other reasons.

That is why Strauss had made his way up to the door of your room and began knocking. It was gentle at first, but he then gave another, more firm rap at the door when you didn’t answer even after he called your name. Eventually, enough was enough and he was turning the doorknob which he found was unlocked, and announced himself as he let himself in.

The sight that he saw when he was in the room wasn’t anything that Strauss had not seen before, at least in one form or another. He had thought that you weren’t likely to fall prey to major burnout, but here you were, hunched over your desk, shoulders shaking, and so much into your despair that you probably didn’t even comprehend that he was there, at least not fully.

“Childe,” Strauss called softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “What troubles you?”

It seemed that you did not notice him as previously thought, but you did little more than gasp a bit before your breathing went back to its stunted attempts to even itself. If he was going to find out what was happening then he was going to have to stop your hyperventilating.

Once again from his experience of being a regent for so long, Strauss was often prepared for most situations that could arrive. And, though perhaps not the most coddling of people naturally, he wasn’t completely without empathy; some understanding of people was useful to have, be that for ill or good. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small vial with a flat bottom. Popping the lid off of it he sat it on your desk out of the way of where you were lying your head and arms. Soon a soft and calming aroma was wafting into the air.

This was already starting to help you calm down, but it wouldn’t do the job alone. However, Strauss was hopeful that now you would be able to explain at least something about what had happened.

“Now, if you could, tell me what you have been doing.” It was a command, but a gentle one.

“I…I have been studying the… the….”

You seemed like you were still having trouble talking clearly much less explaining things, but you were able to sit up a bit more and motioned to the material on your desk.

Looking it over, Strauss could see that it was indeed something that he had assigned to you a few nights prior, and stressed only last night how imperative it was for you to learn it.

He should have known to be a bit more cautious with his insistency as this was indeed something that many young Tremere would often fret over seeing as it was one of the first things they would have to present to a higher member of The Pyramid themselves rather than having their regent do so. But, once again, you being one of his most promising pupils in quite some time led him to mistakenly believe that you were somehow immune to this anxiety.

Strauss gave a thoughtful hum, “I see,” he seemed to be disappointed, though at his own shortcomings in this situation rather than anything that you were doing. “And, for how long have you been studying?”

You gave a shaky breath, deep yet still troubled. The fact that you were breathing at all was concerning as the one of only reasons for kindred to partake in the act was to try to calm their nerves, a soothing method leftover from their past human life. There was an equally shaken exhale before you responded, “Since last night.”

“When did you revive and start your studies again tonight?”

“I didn’t.”

“Beg pardon?”

You froze for a moment when you thought that you might have offended him somehow with your answer. However, a glance in his direction let you know that he was truly puzzled and not wanting you to expound your answer in apology.

“I was awake the whole morning.” You explained.

At this Strauss gave a sigh, an exasperated and almost woeful sigh.

“To be awake with the sun is something that even seasoned kindred can struggle with. It was neglectful for you to attempt something so foolish.” He was correcting, but it still held the gentle tone that he had maintained since he had come into your room.

“Neglectful?” Your question came in a mumble.

“That is correct: neglectful. To both your health and your studies.”

“But-“

“Yes, I know. You stayed awake this whole time to study the required material.” Strauss interrupted, something that he only did when he thought that teaching was more important than manners, and thus catching your attention.

“And, tell me, childe, did your actions result in a better understanding of your reading, or did it upset you to the point of being ill?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to as you both knew the state you were in right now. Strauss wasn’t going to let you delve back into your sorrow, though your body threatened to return to its violent sobs at any moment.

“Worry not. I am not angry with you. This whole ordeal is partially my fault. As your regent, I should have better prepared and worked with you rather than expecting you to be able to accomplish all of this work alone.”

There was something more soft about this side about Strauss; something that you could have sworn you had never seen him show to anyone else before. And, to be honest, he thought so as well. Though he might never admit it verbally, or perhaps even mentally, he did have at least a bit of a soft spot for you.

A small and endeared smile made its way to his face without his knowledge as he continued, once again placing a hand on your shoulder. “My erring was due to you being very bright. You excel in so many other things that I had thought you could handle something of this caliber with ease as well. That, however, was unfair of me to expect of you.”

It seemed that you were starting to settle, but not fully. Strauss, not wanting to make you more stressed by feeling like he was eyeing you like a hawk, decided that he should give you space for a while.

“You are to spend the rest of the night away from your studies. I do not care how you use your time, as long as it is away from those books and your notes of them.” He instructed, this time in a more firm and demanding tone so that you knew how serious he was about it.

“But, what about the exam? It's coming up soon and you told me that if I don’t do well then- then-“

“Do not worry about that now.” Strauss once again cut in to keep you from spiraling again. He also scolded himself for telling you of the student who did so poorly with his tone, memory, and presentation that the invigilator used Blood Boil on him. That was a yarn that he most certainly should have saved for after the examination. But, once again, he underestimated the stress this whole thing would place on you.

He started to make his way to the door. “You shall do fine. More than fine; you shall do well. I have as much confidence in you as I have had in all of my other students combined. That is if you rest and allow your mind to achieve its full potential. An overworked mind is an underutilized one. If the path of knowledge is not clear, then the haze of clouded memory with prevent it from passing.”

Strauss had to stop himself from giving another platitude. He was trying to calm you right now, not teach another lesson. So, he ended his time in your room by saying, “Rest and be sure that you do not make yourself go mad by staying in this room. Be sure to walk about if you need to. As you are aware, we are the only ones in the Chantry at this time, so you will not be disturbing anyone if you are wandering. Farewell.”

By the way you were looking when he shut the door, Strauss felt it was safe to leave you alone. He was also hopeful that you would sleep, or rather, the vampiric equivalent of it. He couldn’t be too outwardly affectionate with you as his role of regent was supposed to be equally attentive to all in his charge, and showing you favor would call his qualifications into question.

However, he did make sure to, “forget,” his aromatic vile on your desk. Not only to leave you with its soothing properties for a while longer but also so that he could return to you later when he went to retrieve it.

[sillybouquetsoul]

Cloud Castles - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Acting (ao3 link)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Aisha/Sein

Story summary: They dance just out of each other’s reach, but each time brings them closer together.

OR

Aisha and Sein navigate through the dark fairy tale of their own making, one encounter at a time.

Chapter Summary: Aisha tries her hand at rewriting a story.

The book propped in Aisha’s arms is pushed down, and Aida’s beaming face takes its place. 

“Aisha, let’s do a play!” Her sister’s enthusiasm is infectious. Aisha can’t find it in herself to get angry at her. 

“What play?” 

“Oh, you know my favourite one. The Three Dwarves, of course!” 

Aisha groans. “We’ve done that so many times.” 

“Because it’s a classic! And it works best with four people,” Aida tugs the book clean out of Aisha’s hands, and like a fool, Aisha lets it go. “Come on. Carlo and Nemo already agreed. We just need one more person!” 

Aisha knows it’s a lost cause, but she asks anyway. “What about Sein?” 

Aida sighs. “He says he’ll only join if you play the main character. But that’s okay, I can take turns with you! You play the female lead and then I will, so we both get to act with Sein!” 

So, not a flat-out no. There’s still hope. But Aisha is tired of playing the same role. Ideally, she would exert the bare minimum effort that would satisfy Aida, and also maximize any opportunity to make Sein uncomfortable. Acting seems to be one of his pain points. She should, if she can, take advantage of his conditional response. 

Especially after the manoeuvre he pulled on her that hot summer day so many months ago. Her bottom lip tingles with the memory. 

“Sure, I can join you. I’ll play the lead so Sein will join us as well, but,” she holds up a finger before Aida can celebrate too soon. “On one condition.” 

Aisha’s mind comes alive with ideas. A smile grows on her lips, and she can almost taste the tantalizing sweetness of vengeance. 

“Let me revise the story.” 

After promising Aida that she would finish rewriting the story in two days, Aisha’s routine of reading in the library during the daytime switches over to writing. She requests for a stack of fresh parchments and inkwells in preparation for the project, which fills her with excitement. 

Reading and acting out The Three Dwarves is one experience; rewriting it is another entirely. 

She spends the first day discarding more drafts than saving them. She only leaves the library for meals and bathroom breaks; the remainder of her time is devoted to writing at the desk. Engrossed in writing, she even loses track of time. When she looks up, the sky outside the window has darkened, and the candles around the room are lit. 

Aisha sets down the ink quill to rub her aching eyes. She wonders how she could have missed a servant coming in to light the candles. It’s rather considerate of them, though also unusual because if they knew she was in the library, they left her alone. 

“Good evening, Aisha.” She jolts in her seat, lifting her head to see Sein standing beside a shelf. He holds a book in his arms, as always. From the distance and wavering candlelight, Aisha can’t make out which book. 

“Why are you… oh, it’s nighttime. You mentioned before that you enjoy reading here at night.” 

“Indeed. I usually carry one candle around for myself, but seeing as you were still here, I took the liberty of lighting all the candles in this space,” Sein comes forward, stopping at the edge of the desk. “I hope you didn’t strain your eyes too much.” 

He studies the mess of parchment papers and ink stains. He looks wide awake at this late hour, while Aisha’s body is now suffering the aftereffects of hunching over the desk all day. Her back is bound to ache badly tomorrow, and she’s not even halfway through the rewrite yet. 

As Sein leans closer, probably to read her writing, Aisha quickly gathers the written parchment and holds them close to her chest. 

Sein’s eyes drift from the papers to her, one eyebrow arched. 

“They’re not done yet. You’ll get to read them tomorrow.” If I manage to finish writing by then.  

He withdraws with a slight smile. “Ah. Then I’ll look forward to reading it tomorrow.” 

She waits for him to leave, but he doesn’t. He takes the couch adjacent to the desk, a little too close for comfort. Aisha debates whether she should ask him to leave; ultimately, she decides that it’d be rude, because their reading times have never overlapped until tonight. Now is Sein’s turn to read in the library if he wishes, and she’s encroaching on that time. 

“Will you play the lead this time?” 

“I am, so this means you will act too.” Aisha states, watching his face for any negative emotions. 

Even if Sein finds the idea of acting in a children’s fairy tale repulsive, he doesn’t reveal anything.  “Of course,” he agrees readily, leaning his head against his palm. “I don't break my promises. If you’d like me to act in this one, then I will.” 

“It’s not about whether I want you to act, because I don’t. It will make Aida happy if everyone plays a part, so this is for her.” Aisha corrects. 

Why does he have to phrase it like that? Like he’d do anything she asked of him. 

Sein hums. “If that’s how you want to think, I won’t refute it.” 

Candlelight dances in his eyes, and the faint smile he usually wears has faded away. When Sein isn’t smiling, he looks intimidating and impossible to approach. Out of Madam Sylvia’s children, Aisha thinks he’s the most memorable one; his noble features are strikingly beautiful. Aida had acknowledged his appearance since the first time they met, but it took ages for Aisha to accept it. 

Step siblings in fairy tales are almost always portrayed as deformed creatures because of their inherent penchant for wickedness and cruelty. He is Madam Sylvia’s son after all, and apples don’t fall far from their tree. So for the longest time, Aisha refused to think of him as handsome. 

But the candlelight softens the sharp lines of his face, just enough that the tension seeps out of Aisha’s shoulders. Perhaps letting her guard down around him is unwise—and she has seen firsthand how terrifying he can be, holding a bloody knife instead of a book—but for the moment, she puts those flyaway thoughts to rest. They would only distract her, and Sein is already a major distraction by himself. 

“Please don’t talk to me while I’m writing. I really do have to finish this.” Aisha says airily, returning her attention to the parchment. 

He doesn’t respond, but when she glances over after a few minutes, he seems focused on his book. Other than the turning of the page, the library is quiet, just how Aisha likes it. She’s glad that Sein is considerate enough to not initiate a conversation, otherwise she can’t concentrate on writing. 

So Aisha dips her quill and resumes her task. She’ll stop once she reaches the halfway point. 

Aisha wakes up on a firm surface. Not her bed. 

The ceiling above her is high and vaulted. The air also carries the scent of paper and ink. Not her bedroom. 

She sits up, every inch of her body protesting at the movement. She’s still wearing yesterday’s day dress; the fabric is wrinkled from her sleeping in it. The sunlight shining through the windows is what wakes her up, and she realizes she's slept on the couch in the library. The blanket covering her body slips down, pooling at her waist. It’s an unfamiliar blanket, definitely not from her own room. 

The last thing she remembers is writing… Sein was also there, though he was reading. 

She has no memory of falling asleep, nor moving from the desk to the couch. Someone moved her, and also gave her a blanket. Annie, perhaps? 

Aisha doesn’t waste time pondering her mysterious helper. She collects the stack of written parchment, intending to keep them in her room. Just as she’s about to nudge the library door open, someone pulls it open from the outside, causing Aisha to stumble. 

A firm hand catches her shoulder. Aisha looks up, breath sticking in her chest. 

Why him? Anyone but him. 

“Good morning, Miss Aisha.” Sein greets her first. 

She straightens, but his hand stays on her shoulder. Suddenly, she’s all too aware of her unbrushed hair, wrinkled dress, and ink-stained fingers. She lowers her head self-consciously, unwilling to look at him. “Good morning Sein. My apologies, but I’m in a hurry, so if you could let me pass—”

Some of the parchment slips and falls, landing in a heap around the floor. Aisha internally curses, bending down to retrieve them. In front of her, Sein also crouches, reaching for the pieces that fell further away. 

“Still not fully awake, I see.” He comments, amused. 

“Don’t read them,” Aisha says sharply as she notices his eyes running across the parchment. “Give that back, please.” 

Sein doesn’t move. “Interesting.” 

“Sein,” Aisha snatches the parchment out of his hand. “Goodness. Would you read an incomplete story?” 

He looks at her. 

“I suppose not, but I already know how The Three Dwarves goes. How far can you deviate from the original?” 

“If this is a trick to convince me to spoil my rewrite, I’m not falling for it,” Aisha huffs. “Wait and see.” 

Sein stands and extends a hand. Aisha frowns, but eventually accepts it. His hand is larger and warmer than hers, and she’s momentarily glad that her glove alleviates most of the physical contact. Once she’s on her feet, he lets go. 

“Are you planning to sleep in the library again tonight?” 

“I will try not to fall asleep,” Aisha says. “The couch is not the most comfortable place to sleep.” 

“Would you prefer that I wake you up if you do fall asleep? I could have brought you to your room last night, but that was a great distance away, and I didn’t want to risk waking both you and Aida up.” 

“You carried me to the couch?” Aisha repeats in a daze. “I thought… I thought it was Annie.” 

Sein shakes his head. His amusement grows with her discomfort. “I even let you borrow one of my blankets. Was it warm enough?” 

“It was sufficient,” she says calmly, though she’s fuming at the notion of Sein touching her again. How meddlesome and annoying. “But not to worry, I won’t let that happen again.” 

“You’re light as a feather. I don’t mind.”

Of course he doesn’t mind, because the humiliation belongs to her and her alone, and for some reason he finds great pleasure in embarrassing her. She turns tail and walks away. It takes a lot of effort to not break into a sprint. 

Even sprinting doesn’t feel fast enough to escape from Sein.

<< previous: chapter 1 <<

[nobodylikety]

Hello again loved the first fic thank you for writing it and am back with a new fic idea. What about a Momo fic where she is a college student and go’s a year below her girlfriend/partner (you can choose if it’s fem reader or Gn reader I don’t mind either) and Momo takes late night classes to and when she comes home to see her S/0 asleep on the desk studying for finals and knowing if she leaves them there they back going to hurt in the morning so she moves them to bed but it wakes them up and they say they need to study for finals but Momo doesn’t listen and sends them to bed.

Hope you have a good Christmas or holiday season btw

Hey, hello again! I'm happy that you like the previous fic <3 omg omg I love your ideas, they're really interesting! so here it goes, hope you like it ;)

ps: I hope you had a good Christmas <33

momo x gn reader! tags: college au! gn reader is very stubborn and doesn't want to sleep!

summary: It's finals week, and you're definitely not going to bed. Momo is trying everything she can think of to put those tired college neurons to sleep.

note: basically this gn reader studies archeology because, well, it's what I study and I think it's the only thing I master without having to resort to writing something probably inaccurate.

It's finals week, which in university parlance means having the most memorable academic comeback in order to save the semester.

So given this forecast, your room in the student residence has been completely prepared for the almost apocalyptic days that lie ahead. The whiteboard hanging above your desk has been filled with your handwriting—which may be neat and legible, depending on factors like hand pain—presenting a meticulous to-do list organized according to schedules, with half-hour increments between each. Every available surface has been covered in cards and post-its; Even the shower, with worksheets neatly tucked into sheet protectors and taped to the curtain.

In turn, the kitchen has been stocked with frozen dinners and a delicious variety of canned goods, plus not necessarily very healthy snacks, courtesy of the mid-week trip to the supermarket.

Now, back to the present, you were hunched over one of many notebooks, backlit by the dim fluorescent light of the IKEA desk lamp. You had a pile of textbooks next to him, as well as the pen in your hand and a half-written sheet of notes. “Robert Kelly (2003) prologue: Almost the entire world was initially colonized by people with an adaptation to foraging. Therefore, the adaptation of hunter-gatherers to “empty” landmasses is….”

However, before you could continue writing, you leaned your head against the desk, tiredly. You weren't going to take a nap, of course not, you were just resting for a moment. Yeah…,, just a moment. Lights out.

So while you're absolutely-not-napping, Momo comes to your room with the intention of hanging out after her night classes. However, you are practically spread out over a pile of books, the pen held loosely in your hand, and the freaking Robert Kelly note (2003) unfinished. It's not exactly a comfortable position, quite the contrary, but in the deep sleep you're in —that of a college student whose last night of decent sleep seems to have been in kindergarten—you don't realize it. But Momo does.

“God, their back is going to hurt tomorrow if they keeps this up,” Momo murmurs, leaving her backpack on the floor as she walks towards you, almost on tiptoe, as if she doesn't want to make a sound. She gently plants her hand on your shoulder, shaking it slowly, seeking a reaction from you.

A snore, and you change position. But it's still an awkward position, and Momo still knows that she'll hurt your back if you continue like this. She tries again. She shakes your shoulder, harder this time. There is no reaction, other than a grumpy complaint. That makes her giggle, because the truth is that when you're sleepy, you get grumpy. Like a baby with few hours of sleep.

“Okay, this isn't going to work,” she sighs, hands on her hips and staring at your sleeping form on the desk. Thinking.

Momo gives up on the idea of making you wake up. So she does the second most logical thing: take you to bed.

Which is fine in fact, great, with the slightest inconvenience that halfway through (she's dragging you, putting your arm over her shoulder, while her hand holds onto your side) you wake up. Kinda. Something like that. You're only 10% awake, but that 10% wants to study for finals, not sleep.

“Moguri, I have to continue studying…” You complain sleepily, between yawns. You try to move away from Momo's gentle grasp, the one who intends to take you to bed so that you can finally fall asleep.

“Oh, please,” Momo chuckles, rolling her eyes. “You're barely standing. How do you intend to study like this?”

“I'll have a coffee” You respond, more out of instinct than anything else.

“But you hate coffee.”

"Fair point. So, some kind of drink that TikTok recommends to me.”

“You're really stubborn, aren't you?” Momo wrinkles her nose in a tender gesture, before nuzzle your cheek with it. You only respond with an 'mhm', while nodding. “Also, you always say you don't trust someone whose source of information is TikTok.”

“I can always change my mind” Momo just laughs, dragging you to your bed. She doesn't get you to lie down right away, so you're both sitting, you resting your head on her shoulder.

She sighs, causing the shoulder you're leaning on to rise slightly, before returning to its original position. She gives you a fond look, using her free hand to tangle in your hair, rubbing it slowly. They are sweet, comforting caresses that could easily put you to sleep...

"I have to study. Seriously, I'm missing a lot about definitions of hunter-gatherers, and theories of American settlement…” 

“What you have to do is go to bed. Come on, I'll even snuggle you.” Momo's fingers continue to tangle in her hair, rubbing your head in soothing circular motions.

“Unfortunately, I can't” You are like a stubborn child. You get grumpy from lack of sleep, but you don't want to sleep either. It's like Shrödinger's cat paradox, you are asleep and awake at the same time, in a superposition of states according to how you don't want to sleep even when you are sleepy.

“Hun, I'm not sure what part of 'bedtime' you don't understand. 'Bedtime' is not me announcing what I'm going to do next. 'Bedtime' is a suggestion of something that might be beneficial to your overall health and well-being.”

“Damn my health and general well-being.” With an exaggeratedly cheerful tone, you stand up and prepare to return to your desk. “Why sleep when there is work to do?”

“Because you're going to reach a point where you won't be able to do the work and your body will force you to sleep.” Momo is basically a year below you, but since finals week started, she seems to be the one in charge. The responsible one. Because you, with a maximum of 4 hours of sleep during the day, can't do much. You are so focused on studying, that you would be negligent of yourself for the sake of studying.

You are very willing to return to your desk to work. Really. Totally willing. But when you hear Momo talk to you like this, so worried (about you), so comforting, and expressing affection so easily, you doubt your decision.

Because usually, Momo's praise washes over you like a warm bath at the end of a long day, or a steaming bowl of soup on a winter's night. Something welcome and comforting, that she warms you from head to toe. Maybe sleeping isn't so bad. Not if Momo is with you.

“...maybe I could take a nap,” You admit, slowly turning to Momo. She is still sitting on your bed, smiling softly. She knows that you put aside your stubbornness and came to your senses. “But only if you stay with me.”

Momo's expression softens, and she pats the space next to her, inviting you.

“Come, let's go to sleep. Tomorrow you will study.”

“Yeah, because I still have to study Binford, Schiffer, Kelly again…”

“You'll do that tomorrow, Alan Grant” Momo teases you a little, calling you in a loving tone by the name of the Jurassic Park character.

“Actually Alan Grant was a paleontologist, not an archaeologist…” Momo silences you with a small kiss on the lips, pulling you to lie down. “Oh, well, it doesn't really matter.”

Because the fact that Momo prefers to call you Alan Grant and not Indiana Jones, or that you still haven't finished writing that damn note that still lies on your desk, doesn't matter now. The most important thing is that it’s time to sleep.

And that studying for finals can wait.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Prompt 13. “You’re both my source of strength and my biggest weakness” Characters: Lumiere & Secre Fanfic type: Oneshot Genre: general Length: ~0.7k

Sun had barely risen, and the air was still laced with the chill of the night. But. It was time for Secre to go to work as an assistant to Lumiere, despite how much her feet might have dragged over the floor of the castle corridor.

It’ll be better once I get coffee, she thought, while heading towards the study to do some filing and organizing before Lumiere would get there. And then, then she could have her morning coffee.

Of course, the other option was to simply wake up that much earlier to have that coffee, and only then get to work. But. Sleeping a little later, and have her cup of coffee as Lumiere was setting up his research for the day, worked better for her.

The time, even if it wasn’t a lot, that she could spend sleeping in the morning, was worth it; the steps made back and forth.

She placed her hand onto the handle of the study door, feeling the cold creeping to her from the metal surface, and pushed the door open. She took the first step into the room, but halted.

The prince, was hunched over his desk, seemingly asleep.

He must have been working through the night. Again… she let out a soundless sigh, before backing away from the room, as silently as she could.

The door creaked a little as she pulled it closed, but there was no sound from the other side, from the study.

I should make a pot of coffee, and get a blanket for him…

She turned around, debating on if she should first bring him a blanket, or coffee and a blanket at the same time. But, if she brought the blanket first, there was the chance of waking him up in the process. And thus, she settled on bringing both simultaneously.

Which she did. Made him a pot of coffee, which she carried while holding a blanket on the side of her arm, to the office.

This time she pressed the handle down with her elbow, and pushed the door open, as carefully as she could.

He was still asleep by the desk, so she made her way in, and placed the tray onto another table.

You should learn to sleep in your own bed and not by the desk, she thought, hoping that one of these days he would learn. After all, this couldn’t be good for him.

She made her way across the floor, and placed the blanket over his shoulders.

But he shifted in his seat, lifting his head.

“Hm?”

“It’s morning. You fell asleep while working. Again,” she told him.

He needs coffee too.

“I should,” he let out a drowsy chuckle as he stretched, before turning his head towards the pot of coffee. “You read my mind.”

She glanced at him for a brief moment before pouring him a cup. “I need coffee too in the morning.”

He chuckled again, trying to shake of the sleep that still weighed him. But still, as he sat there, looking at her, pour him a cup of coffee, he couldn’t help but feel gratitude.

“You know…” he begun, still barely awake. “I don’t tell you how much I appreciate you.”

She looked at him, thinking that he probably hit his head onto the desk while falling asleep.

“I couldn’t do half of the things I do, if you weren’t around,” he continued. “And, my work would probably fall into pieces if you decided to leave,” he chuckled.

“That’s what you get for not sticking to a daily schedule and taking care of yourself.”

He let out an awkward laugh, as she turned around to make her way out of the door and continue her tasks for the day.

But. She stopped at the door, staying still for a moment. “Thanks,” she said, with a whisper, and without looking at him.

He smiled to her.

She had never been the best when it came to showing her emotions. But it was more than evident through her actions. And that was enough.

[jargonautical]

A guided tour

“AND THIS IS where the magic happens! Not my personal area of expertise, but I’m pleased to say that my little team of technicians here has everything well in hand.”

Patterson’s air of smug ownership is very much beginning to grate by the time they reach the little office at the back of the museum. Their arrival doesn’t even turn any heads until Patterson pointedly clears his throat and a young man rises to greet them.

Lanky and pale, thick dark brown hair pulled back off his face and into a ponytail hanging down his back, his faded red T-shirt proudly proclaims ‘HAIL SAGAN’. Patterson introduces him with studied vagueness as ‘ah, Chris looks after the technicians here.’, and Mainder doesn’t miss the faux-casual skipping over surnames and specifics. The security pass on the bright orange lanyard around his neck clearly identifies the boy as one Dr Christian Taylor, Technical Director, Non-Invasive Archaeology Unit, which sounds considerably more senior and more qualified than Patterson made it out to be.

“Mr Mainder, isn’t it? Sorry we weren’t at the briefing; Aaron had a batch script just about to complete.”

Aaron is presumably the young man hunched over the next desk who mumbles something vaguely like welcome without looking away from his array of screens. A dozen coloured traces blip across one of them in sync with rapidly scrolling numbers on another, and periodically he types something into an open tab on the third.

The next two desks in the row are currently unoccupied, but sheets of paper and bright sticky notes cover every inch of available flat surface and extend up the walls on either side.

“Janice sits here, she’s our project manager. I wouldn't ask for details unless you really, really like Gantt charts. Viktor spends all his time knee deep in mud so Janice uses his desk as overflow. Um, kitchen through there, help yourself to tea and coffee … oh, will you need a desk? We can probably shuffle up and make room somewhere. Did they issue you a laptop yet?”

Mainder searches his memory and comes up blank. There wasn’t anything in the document he signed, that’s for sure. It could have been mentioned while he wasn’t paying attention, but either way it doesn’t matter. There’s no way another desk is going to fit anywhere in here unless they sacrifice the little couch and coffee table in the bay window, and if they did decide to give him any kind of computer he wouldn’t even know how to turn it on.

Patterson, still talking, has carried on down to the far end of the room, arranged like a lab with worktop running the length of one wall and an array of tall metal cupboards on the other. Shallow trays laid out along the worktop display finds from the work so far; beads, bones and pottery shards, nothing momentous. Much more interesting, to Mainder at least, is the brief glimpse of scarlet beyond the open door of one of the cupboards; if he’s not mistaken, this could be the invisible secretary from the meeting. He covertly stares as they pass, trying to commit her to memory this time. Oval face, high forehead, mousy hair cut in a chin-length bob that falls over her face no matter how often she tries to tuck it behind her ear. Lightish grey eyes - oddly familiar somehow, that’s going to bug him. No wedding ring, no engagement ring, not that that means anything these days; no other jewellery that he can see, and either no makeup at all or an incredibly understated and undetectable no-makeup look.

On balance he’s inclined to think it’s the former. If she had any interest at all in making herself more attractive she’d do something with her hair, dress in colours that suited her better - literally anything would be an improvement on her current outfit, especially that eye-draggingly awful cardigan, leeching attention away from her until her own features are reduced to mere background noise.

“Of course I’d expect you to recognise most of this.” Patterson says, gesturing at the trays. “Lovely little mix, fantastic extraction and cataloguing experience for the interns. All the evidence points to some kind of rubbish pit beside a relatively high-status settlement.”

Mainder pretends to inspect the lacklustre collection of archaeological scraps; trash, just as the professor suspects. No surprises there.

“You’ll recall of course that we could be looking at a late Bronze Age tomb complex extending to under the barrow to the east, your so-called ‘fairy hill’.”. The quote marks clip into place as clearly as if he’d raised his index fingers to sign them. “In fact we all got very excited when this was uncovered.” On the wall, a grainy black and white photo of a severely plain bronze torc has been stuck up along with a terse red-pen annotation of ‘OUT OF CONTEXT!! :(‘. He taps the photo with a stubby finger and continues, “But as you can see it was quickly discovered to be a hoax. One of the previous residents of the vicarage apparently fancied himself as an amateur archaeologist. Had, ah, a naughty habit of burying artefacts wherever the fancy took him to be discovered later.”

“How very frustrating.” Mainder soothes, bending his head quickly over the trays to hide the rogue grin quirking the corners of his mouth. “I’m sure he meant no harm.”

“Possibly, possibly,” Patterson acknowledges judiciously, “but still - it was quite the red herring.”

“And is this all you’ve brought up so far?”

“Ah, you should see our star find.” Patterson taps his nose in a faintly creepy display of confidentiality and gestures for Mainder to back up. “Some of the more unusual artefacts require slightly more specialised treatment, as I’m sure you’ll understand. Evie, would you mind pulling the chieftain’s brooch for Mr Mainder to see?”

Evie. Mainder tastes the name silently. It doesn’t suit her. A childish diminutive, surely short for something more imposing. Evangeline? Evelyn? He boggles momentarily at the unbidden vision of her responding to either of those names - something similar to his reaction if somebody tried to call him ‘Elias’, notwithstanding that it’s the name on his official documentation. Evie it is then.

“I must have missed you in the introductions, Evie. What’s your role here?”

She barely manages to open her mouth before Patterson answers for her. “Evie is our asset management specialist.”

An awkward silence spins out while Patterson waits expectantly for the girl to pick up her cue and fill in the gaps. Somehow though, without moving a muscle or making a sound, she couldn’t have signaled more clearly if she’d written it on one of those sickly-coloured sticky notes and slapped it on his forehead that since Patterson had started answering for her, he could feel free to carry on and supply the missing details. Mainder hadn’t expected to feel sorry for Patterson, today or any other day, but honestly it’s like watching someone dispatch a wasp with a rocket launcher. He can’t help but smile, safely behind Patterson’s back, and comes to the rescue.

“Asset management, right. What does that involve?”

“Spreadsheets, mostly.” she answers, so blandly that he feels almost like he ceased to exist too, vapourised in Patterson’s blast radius. No, this won’t do. She’s too interesting to be allowed to fade into the background again.

“What happens if someone tries to make off with an asset? I hope for your sake you’re stronger than you look!”

It turns out he was mistaken. Her expression before wasn’t bland, it was simply polite-shading-to-neutral. At his ill-chosen attempt at humour it transforms to total, absolute stillness, a null, as if invisible shutters had slammed up between her and everyone else. He could swear the tacky lino under his feet trembles faintly, so physical is the frisson of uncertainty that runs through him. He retreats to safer ground, turning with relief to the item under the magnifier.

“Beautiful.” he murmurs after a frozen pause.

He’s absolutely sincere. It’s one of Smidur’s, one of his best at that, and has to have been for someone high up in one of the old Fire houses. Maybe even at the very top. Shaped like a stylised sword, the blunt tapering blade and the pommel both heavily inlaid with precious stones, polished cabochons of garnet and deep-hued amber reflecting the bright ring of the magnifier light back up at him. Around them red-gold and silver wire inlays chase each other around the borders and up over the arch in a leaping flame pattern.

Homesickness washes over him, a sickening wave that curls his fingers around the edge of the bench for support. He has one of these, not nearly so fine of course, tucked away safely somewhere until it might be safe to use it again. He can feel the potential still stored in this one, a journey unfinished, hidden under mud and stone for so long waiting to shine again. The scribe was right; this beautiful piece has never crossed the Divide.

Glancing up he finds the girl watching him again, and again with that faint hint of concern she showed in the meeting. It unsettles him, far more so than if she’d been openly hostile. He won’t deny he’s off balance - but what’s it to her?

“Well, thank you for the viewing.” he says lightly. “What else should I see while I’m here, Professor?”

The dig supervisor is waiting for them at the far corner of the house, a gaggle of young interns clustered around him like imprinted ducklings.

It’s not hard to see why. Viktor is an impressive specimen whatever your personal preference - tall and tanned, he’s blessed with the face of a young Valentino and the physique of a gym rat. People always fail to guess correctly what he does for a living, to hear him tell it; they go for fitness instructor, rugby player, even Navy SEAL, long before they get anywhere close to his real specialism. It’s netted him many free drinks on a Saturday night from giggling young women who’ve failed to guess correctly, not to mention getting him laid more times than he can count. He has no interest whatsoever in seducing Mainder, obviously. In fact he has strong opinions about old farts posing about the place dressed all in black like they think they’re cool or something, but he prides himself on remaining professional. If there’s one thing he cares about more than his image, it’s his career prospects.

“I was just taking everyone through the dig schedule.” he hails them as they catch up to the group. “As I was saying - our scans show some very strong signals towards the back of the house, but we’ll be warming up with a look at the anomaly over by the hedge first. Depending on what we find there we’ll decide where to dig next, and of course we have to have an eye on the structural integrity of the building. Any questions so far?”

This is pointedly aimed only at the students, so Mainder fades to the back of the group to let them raise their points. The young woman next to him doesn’t appear to have anything to ask, not related to the dig anyway. She watches the magnificent Viktor with shining eyes and murmurs confidentially, “This is so exciting! Have you done projects like this before? Oh, you must have done hundreds. This is the first one I’ve done. I can’t wait to get started! I wonder what we’ll find?”

Mainder accurately gauges that she’s not looking for a meaningful dialogue, rather chattering from a combination of exhilaration and nerves, and confines himself to encouraging nods and murmurs of assent at appropriate intervals. He can’t remember the last time he was that excited about something; it would have been so long ago that now he can’t even remember how it would have felt, that’s how long.

“What happens if we don’t find anything?” one of the students near the front asks. “Maybe the same person who buried the torc buried the stuff from the hoard as well, and it’s all just a big joke.”

“It’s possible, but of course we hope not.” Viktor says stiffly. “There’s more than enough evidence of the site being worth investigating, even without the hoard so close by, and whatever we find will tell us more about how it was used. Does anyone else have a question?”

Since nobody does, they move on to the next part of their briefing leaving Mainder and Patterson staring expectantly at each other. A moment of awkward silence descends, as if Patterson was hoping Mainder would simply disappear of his own accord at this point, and when that fails to happen he glances at his watch.

“My goodness.” he murmurs vaguely. “Well, ah, I do have other appointments this afternoon. Just let the team know if you need anything.”

[anderhearn]

Passing Doves - Chapter 5 - Ready, Set

Audy looks at Simon’s number wondering if she should try to contact him and quite surprised he didn’t already call. “You know Moore, he is actually the first guy to not try to sleep with me twice,” Audy sighs in slight disappointment, “must have been thinking about work and gave an awful lay,” she says shaking her head, “this job is destroying my personal life.”

————

Audy and Kahn Lee sit in silence as they look over their notes from the interview with Mr. Keen,

"He is completely shaken up." says Kahn-Lee as she leans back in her chair.

"Well," Audy sips her water, “I think anybody would be given the circumstances."

"All I know is there are far too many murders. Yeah, I know one is too much, but you get my drift. It is just too damn hard right now to link these to anything. This could be a standalone.”

says Kahn-Lee as she stretches her arms.

"That crime scene was an absolute mess. Clearly who ever the fuck is doing this is a stone cold psychopath. Could probably spot the insane fuck from a mile away." says Audy.

Kahn-Lee flips through her notebook,

"Fly away. What does that even mean? I don't think carving that into Mrs. Keen was planned. Judging by it, it was done in haste." says Kahn-Lee.

"I know we've already discussed this, but I think it was personal. Mr. Keen says he doesn't have any enemies, but goddamn, I am certain it was someone they know," says Audy as she studies her notebook, “Doves. There has to be major importance to that."

Cruz walks into the office and pours himself a cup of coffee,

"Hey, Cruz. You're a bird guy, right?" asks Kahn-Lee.

"A bird guy? I'm not a bird guy. I just have a couple of parrots."

"We just got done interviewing Mr. Keen and he made several mentions how the killer called them doves." says Audy.

"Doves?" Cruz takes a long drink of coffee, "I used to go dove hunting with my father years ago. We would always try to kill them in pairs since they mate for life."

Kahn-Lee nods her head, "The Dove Killer. “Oh!” She flips through her notebook, “The Rustin's didn't have wedding rings on." 

Audy taps her desk, "TDK. Same killer?"

"Don't jump the gun. They could have sold their rings, never bought them in the first place, or God knows what. And not to mention, that is quite the leap from those killings to that of Mrs. Keen."

"Or," says Audy, "We are dealing with a serial killer that hunts couples and takes their rings as a trophy. 

"And fly away was done in haste because Mr. Keen got away." says Kahn-Lee.

"Theories," Cruz says as he sits down at his desk, "and it seems like a real strain to connect those dots."

Audy groans as she strokes her chin feeling slightly deflated, 

"Or these aren't connected and it was just a home invasion. The Rustin's place was ransacked and some things were definitely taken."

"Kahn-Lee shakes her head, "I like your hunch about there being a serial killer that goes after couples. It’s a good framework to start with."

"Evidence, evidence, evidence," says Audy as she continues to tap the desk. “Well, I’m not playing this fucked up waiting game with TDK. Theory or not  I’m leaking to the media.” 

Cruz shakes his head, "That is gonna cause a goddamn firestorm. I don't think it is a good idea to scare the public like that."

Audy nods her head, "I wouldn't call it that. We are just making a public service announcement, warning them while also getting their help. A million pairs of eyes is better than 8."

“We have a rather disturbing development,” says the anchor as he shakes his head in disgust, “Yes, very disturbing." says the opposite anchor, "The DPD reached out to our network to let the public know about a possible serial killer that targets couples. The police ask that everyone stay vigilant and to please call Dallas Homicide or the non emergency number if you have information of any kind.”

Simon closes YouTube and looks out his 30th floor hotel window. He was a little surprised that the police reached out to the public so quickly. He thought he had a few more killings before that happened.

“Oh well.” Simon says aloud as he thinks about Jonathan running down the street squawking like an idiot. 

Simon runs his hand over the pair of bar girl asses that were sleeping off the bender from the night before. He smiles as he thinks about how much better Audy had been than these two. 

He picks up his phone and finds Audy's number. He starts to send her an iMessage but switches back to YouTube to watch the video again. Simon shakes his head in disappointment knowing that the video had actually gotten to him and trying to contact Audy was just a response.

It had been 5 days since the botched killing and Thailand was treating him well. He had almost forgotten about his stupid err right until that video. 

What kind of conversations about him were the police having? Was there any information that he needed to know? Do they have any leads? The questions filled Simon's head like a favorite song. 

Simon violently shakes the 2 bar girls awake, "Time to go ladies. I got some things to do." One of the bar girls rolls over and puts her head in Simon's lap, "You give me 2000 baht and I stay with you all day. OK?" 

"I said get the fuck out!" Simon shouts as an image of Jonathan flashes in his mind, "now pack your shit and leave. If I wanna see you again I know where to find you."

A few minutes later Simon is eating a breakfast of steak and lobster with an expensive bottle of wine. "Breakfast of champions," he says aloud as he looks over the bustling Pattaya Beach, “Fucking dove."

 He couldn't get the video out of his head. This new trouble had been all of his fault and he was painfully aware of it. Simon nods his head in satisfaction as he settles on the task of hunting down that lost dove and absolutely destroying it. 

The heat was on and it was far too hot to return back to Dallas and get active again. 1 month of laying on the beach, having sex with bar girls, drinking the very best spirits, wine, and imported beer, and a couple nights of getting high on newly legalized weed would be a good stress reliever. 

Or maybe honing the dark art in Thailand. 

"Alright," simon says as he finishes his last bite of breakfast, "just 2 doves here." Simon smiles as he thinks about how easy it will be to rip the wings off of a couple of left for dead doves in this environment. The bar scene in Pattaya was always running at full speed with all the girls, horny men, alcohol, drugs, and apathetic attitudes. 

By the end of the night Simon had found his next targets. 

The land of smiling, soon to be dead doves.

[todoscript]

SEQUEL TO  “don’t forget it”

SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff, very little angst

word count: 5.4k+

warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury

author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!

Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.

It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.

“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.

At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.

Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.

Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.

At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.

However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.

.

.

“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”

“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.

“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.

“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”

“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.

“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.

“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.

“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”

Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.

“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.

“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”

“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.

“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.

The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.

“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.

“Yeah. So?”

“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.

At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”

“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”

“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.

“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”

There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.

Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.

“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”

“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.

“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.

“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”

“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.

Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.

Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.

“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”

.

.

The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.

No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.

You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.

Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.

Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?

The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.

It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.

Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.

Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.

“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.

“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.

Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”

Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.

“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”

“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.

Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.

Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.

Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.

“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.

You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.

The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”

The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.

Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.

In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.

Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.

“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.

“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.

“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”

Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.

Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.

You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.

“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”

“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.

While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.

“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.

“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.

Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”

The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.

Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.

...Odd.

“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.

You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.

.

.

The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.

The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.

That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.

The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.

Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.

Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.

Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,

“Hey, Y/n, I–”

“Katsuki–”

Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.

“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.

Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.

“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.

“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.

“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.

Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.

“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.

“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.

“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.

Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.

“—tsuki! ...old… n!”

“...god—! I’m so dead!”

A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.

.

.

The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.

He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.

Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?

His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.

“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.

“You aren’t hurt?”

You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.

“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.

“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”

You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.

“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”

“...You gotta be joking, right?”

Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.

Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.

“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.

You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”

You give him a look. “...Liar.”

Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”

“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”

Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?

You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”

“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”

You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”

Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.

“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.

“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.

“What?”

“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”

[sinswithpleasure]

First (ft. TWICE's Mina)

[Y/N POV]

"I'm home!"

After a long day of classes over at university, I had finally returned home. Computer Science was not an easy course of study to take, and I usually returned home exhausted every day. I walked over to the fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water and taking a swig to cool myself down from the walk home.

"Huh, usually Mina greets me with 'Okaeri'... I wonder where she is today."

I sat down at the dining table, resting my exhausted body on the dining chair. I smiled at the thought of my housemate. Sharing this house with her had made the bills so much easier to pay off, and her presence meant I did not have to live alone.

Myoui Sharon Mina's agreement to house with me was through an ad I put out online. I had gone through so many different housemates, and I was ready to give up looking. One was a party girl that kept on bringing guys over to sleep with, and I had walked in on them desecrating my furniture multiple times. Some skipped out on paying their share of the bills. I was starting to get disillusioned with the idea of housemates before she popped around.

Mina had contacted me for an interview through text. She was my last chance I gave myself before resigning to my fate and moving to a smaller apartment. I was expecting another party girl, or someone I would not like instantly. However, when I met up with her, I was instantly blown away with her looks. This woman could easily have featured on any fashion magazine, on the cover, no less. She looked like a modern day princess, and yet, she was just a college student majoring in Dance, and seeking a roof over her head with cheap rent. Mina was nothing short of polite during the interview, and she had laughed when I told her my horror stories of the previous housemates. Throughout the interview, she easily charmed me with her politeness, and her assurance that she was nothing like my previous housemates. While every interviewee I had met promised what she had promised as well, I had a hunch she would stick to her promise.

Mina was also nothing short of what might actually be the perfect housemate. Every time we met in the hallways or in whatever room in the house, she would always greet me in Japanese with a "Good morning/afternoon/evening" with a big smile on her face. She respected all house rules and did her share of the chores, as well as paid her bills on time. This lady was easily the most charming of all my housemates, and it was easy to live with her. Ever the homebody, her only trips out of her room usually was to go to class or to occasionally grab snacks from the fridge or cabinets in the kitchen. Over the months, she loosened up and began to socialise with me more. We bonded over a shared love for gaming and hatred for her many admirers. Many a night was spent killing aliens and raiding dungeons together while cursing out all her admirers. Mina had learnt to read people well from all the boys chasing her for her looks and money through her younger years before college, and it was easy for her to know who was after her for her looks and money. If we weren't gaming together, we were chilling together on the couch watching movies or working on our individual assignments at the table. Point is, she was the best housemate ever, being so easy to get along with, and knowing her limits with the house. She rarely brought anyone over, and if she did, she would get permission from me and clean up after to ensure everyone got the best out of the experience. Did I mention she was loaded? To my surprise, she would easily be able to afford buying her own property, but she refused to spend frivolously. Why waste money when it would be better spent elsewhere on the newest games and more snacks for gaming sessions and movie marathons, or even better, saved for the future?

Spending that much time with her at home slowly led me to develop a crush on her. It wasn't a common occurrence for a housemate to not only be top tier in morals and ethics, but for her to look like the princess of Japan. With her shoulder length ginger hair and a dazzling smile that showed her teeth and gums, along with her bright brown eyes that crinkle with her smile, she was someone that would not be out of place if she was on a painting in a Japanese history museum. Her face was decorated with a number of beauty marks; one on her forehead, one on both her cheeks, one on her nose bridge, another on the left of her nose, one on top of her lips, one below, and one on her chin. Even her body had some. One on her neck, one on her left shoulder, and one on her tummy. These beauty marks, specifically on her face, looked like a constellation in the night sky. She could be doing mundane things like noting words down on a notebook or pouring herself a cup of water, she seemed to execute every action with the elegance of a princess. Every time she looked at me, her hair seemed to fall in place, her side-parted bangs falling nicely to frame the side of her face, covering a bit of her right eye. This would be paired with her dazzling gummy smile or a slight curve of her lips and raise of her eyebrows. She was unhealthy for my heart and I had to try to hide my blush each time I would catch her eye. Knowing her perceptiveness, she probably had already picked up on my crush on her. I could never be sure though, since she had not mentioned anything in the year we've lived together.

"Strange," I muttered to myself, "she's usually home by now. Her classes end at 3pm today. Where is she?" I got up from the chair, wandering over to the hallway that led to both our rooms. Both doors appeared to be closed. "Huh. Guess I'll…"

A faint hiss of breath reached my ears. Maybe it was a figment of my imagination? Before I could dismiss it as so, another breath echoed out into the hallway. That sounded like Mina's breathing… What was she doing? She was home?

I tiptoed my way towards the sounds, each one bringing me closer to my destination. Without noticing, I had stopped in front of Mina's room.

A gasp this time. As my hand reached to knock on the door, I noticed that said door was slightly ajar. While I hesitated to peek in, curiosity won, and I leaned to look into her room.

"What the fuck?" My jaw dropped from shock.

Myoui Sharon Mina lay on her queen sized bed, her ginger hair splayed out, a halo on her pillowcase. Her back was arched, chest pushed out, taut nipples straining the thin T-shirt covering her body. One hand of hers gripped the sheets of her bed, balling them in her fist, as the other…

Her other hand was shielded by her legs, but it was obvious what she was doing to herself, with muffled slick and wet sounds emanating from between her legs. Her shorts were thrown haphazardly next to where she lay on the bed, her panties still around her hips. Both knees met each other as she clenched her thighs around her hand. Her beautiful eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed, her bottom lip trapped underneath the bite of her teeth in an effort to muffle whatever sounds her voice would make.

I almost let out a gasp of my own. Arousal shot straight down to my groin, my cock beginning to harden at the sight. Never in my wildest dreams would I expect to physically see my housemate fucking herself with her fingers. Sure, in the year I had fantasized a lot about her during my own relaxation sessions, but those would only remain as fantasies. I was a little bit ashamed to admit that prim and proper Myoui Sharon Mina was the object of a lot of my sexual fantasies. I always imagined her stripping for me, our lips locking and tongues meeting, as we made love with each other, or her bent over a desk while I took her from behind, or if I was having sex with her in missionary position on my bed. I had also dreamed up this scenario before, where it ended up with us having sex with each other. Many a night was spent thinking about her body under her clothes, from her average sized breasts under her T-shirts or sweaters, to her round ass under her jeans, or to her solid abs whenever she wore anything that showed her core muscles. However, never would I have ever thought that this would come true in reality.

"Aaah~..." A moan broke my reverie. Mina had moved her left hand from balling the sheets to cup her right breast over her shirt, kneading the soft flesh. She whimpered at her own ministrations, before pinching her erect nipples over the T-shirt. "Mmmh~ fuck..." She shifted on the bed, panting at the exertions of her right hand between her legs, and the pleasure she was giving herself. Each time she pinched her nipple, she would arch her back a little, before biting her lip and letting out a soft "Mmmf~".

I knew I should retire to my room and leave her alone. This was an invasion of her trust and privacy, and my peeping on her, whether accidental or not, was not something I should be doing. However, I could not will my eyes to tear away from the sight of Myoui Sharon Mina fucking herself with her fingers. While I could not see what she was doing to herself, I could only assume she was circling her own clit through the motions of her forearm. My dick was straining against my jeans now, and I squeezed it to alleviate some pressure. Mina now had swapped to her left breast, and she had stopped biting her lip, opting to just pant in pleasure.

I was sure my underwear was ruined by now, with the amount of pre-cum I was producing. Unable to take the straining, I unzipped my jeans and let my bulge out. I did not want to pull my dick out or jerk off as she could catch me as I caught her, and that would easily ruin our current friendship beyond repair. Shit, this wasn't the dream I envisioned at all…

"Aaaagh~! Fuck it!"

Mina's unusually loud exclamation of frustration echoed out of her room. I looked up from my actions with my pants in time to see her fingers hook under the waistband of her panties and aggressively rip them off her hips. She kept her eyes shut as she raised her hips to allow for herself to remove the offending undergarment. Pulling harshly at her panties, she raised her legs up and flung them to a corner of her room, before yanking her shirt up to expose her breasts. Her legs returned to their prior position, with her thighs clenched around her right hand, circling at her most private of areas.

Another pang of arousal shot to my groin, and I felt more pre-cum flowing out of my dick. Holy fucking shit, Mina was a fucking goddess. As mentioned prior, her average breasts were fitting for her frame, but to see these same breasts naked… they were perky and smooth, and her nipples pert, the areola small. These same nipples were just as taut as they were under the T-shirt, their light brown a nice transition from the honey-fair skin she had. God, she was so fucking hot and I wished she would take me to bed with her. Before I could fully believe in my luck, Mina unknowingly took what might have been her killing shot at my health and well-being.

"Mmmh~ yes~!"

Mina's closed legs from before fell to their sides as she spread herself on the bed. Another rush of pre-cum shot out of my dick as I finally saw Mina's wet pussy for the first time. She was shaved clean, her pink lips spread and glistening with arousal. Mina's fingers were rubbing on her clit roughly, her left hand pinching her nipples directly now. She squirmed and whimpered with each tug on her own nipples, and the sinful words that left her mouth next almost made me moan out loud, had I not covered my mouth quickly.

"Fuck, yes, [Y/N], Aaaah~!"

Mina's middle and ring fingers penetrated her own pussy, as she moaned my name repeatedly. "Mmm~ fuck~ [Y/N]... aaah~ you're so big, so hot, mmmh~" Her fingers thrusted in and out of herself. I could see her drenched fingers each time she pulled out, showing how turned on she was. She angled her hand to allow for the pad of her thumb to rub her clit, and her fingers appeared to curl inside her with each thrust. "Yes! Right there! Mmmf~ fuck!" Her motions seemed to get faster and faster, as she writhed on her bed at the pleasure she was feeling. I gripped onto my bulge, rubbing myself over my briefs. Mina's moaning of my name turned me on so much; my dick was twitching in its confinements. I was barely controlling myself, and I could feel my willpower slowly leaking away. However, I disciplined myself and kept myself from going further than that.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Shit! That feels so good, fuck~! I'm so close, I'm so close, fuck! [Y/N], fuck, [Y/N], I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum I'm gonna fucking cum on your cock, fuck, I'm gonna- aaAAAH~!"

Mina's hips bucked wildly as she thrashed in pleasure on the bed, her fingers fucking herself through her orgasm. I nearly came in my pants at the sight of her, as her loose hand gripped onto the bed sheets as an outlet for the pleasure wrecking her lustful young body. Mina's body glistened with sweat, her flushed skin wet from the sweat that formed from the exertion of her masturbation. She withdrew her fingers from her pussy, raising them to her eyes as she played with the strings of sticky fluid between said fingers. Mina then put her fingers to her mouth, her tongue darting out to clean them of the juices from her orgasm. The smile on her face depicted the afterglow of her orgasm. Her head tilted towards the door after, her eyes opening slightly as she panted heavily. The same pair of eyes appeared to have met mine, and I darted back to my room before I could verify. Panic coursed through my veins, and as I shut my room door too loudly for my liking, I leaned against the wall, face in my palms. I had no idea how I was going to face her if she really caught me peeping on her…

'Tomorrow's problems for tomorrow's me,' I told myself. For now, I had my issues to solve in the form of my arousal, and what better than a cold shower?

----------

[Mina's POV]

I'd caught [Y/N] peeping on me.

Well… this was mortifying. I'd been loudly moaning his name as I fucked myself and he'd probably watched every second of it.

Shit… his schedule today ends at 4pm… he could make it home in the time it took me to masturbate. How could I forget? Stupid me!

He did seem very happy to watch me though, evident from the hard bulge sticking out of his zipper and the wet spot that formed on his briefs…

How was this now a development in both our lives?

I'd returned home earlier that day, in the afternoon. The stress of the day was overwhelming; my assignment for a choreography was due soon and I still had lots to work on and practice. Furthermore, many other classes I took had assignments due, and I barely had enough alone time to myself as is. I moved to my room, changing from my school outfit to my home outfit, a simple plain white T-shirt and shorts. 'Fuck wearing the bra,' I thought, 'finally I get to be free of it. It's not like [Y/N] returns home soon anyway.'

I made a trip to the kitchen for a cup of water. It was rare to get some alone time at this point of the semester, and the stress was getting to me. As I leaned on the kitchen counter, drinking from my cup, my brain led me down a train of naughty thoughts.

'You're home alone, Mina. [Y/N]'s not here. You're stressed and you haven't masturbated in weeks. What's stopping you now? He doesn't come home early today…'

It was true, I was pent up for weeks and desperately needed a good orgasm. Every day was spent working on my assignments or choreographing something. I needed a release and it had been a while since I'd fingered myself. Heat pooled at my stomach; the need to masturbate had increased tenfold.

I returned to my room, giving the door a half-hearted push, and making myself comfortable on my bed. Rubbing myself over my shorts, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. My thoughts were a mess at the beginning, but they slowly coalesced into the form of my housemate.

[Y/N] was a solid housemate. Ever the respectful man, he was never rude and unpleasant to anyone he knew, and he made it a point to be especially polite to any service staff he had the pleasure to meet. Every time I went out with him to restaurants or diners, the waiters or waitresses always received the utmost respect from him, and if he could tip them, he could. 'They are doing their best, and I'm sure any bit helps' was his reasoning when questioned. He cared for me a lot, always offering me a listening ear and advice when required, and I will never regret my decision to ask him to cuddle with me once when I was really down in the dumps. He became my best friend and my rock within the year we've lived together, and it wasn't difficult to end up crushing on him. He was able to lead me through my indecisiveness and take my hand through so many issues I'd face, and he knew how to be playful and have fun, such as dissing my many admirers or any stupid characters in movies in humorous ways. This man was my ideal type.

As I felt my arousal grow at the thought of [Y/N], I thought of all the times I saw him shirtless at home. As if it wasn't enough to be my ideal type of man already, being able to lead me and be playful and mature when required, he was lean, fit, and tall. I'd seen him return home after going for jogs, or when he'd work out at home. His body, shining with sweat, droplets cascading down his broad shoulders to his defined chest, running over his beautiful six-pack abs… His thick biceps and triceps…. This man was not built like a bodybuilder; I know my descriptions make it seem like he was one but he was just one sexy lean and fit man. I wonder what he packed between his legs...

My thoughts wandered to the times I've seen him flushed and panting after the exertion of workout, and I wondered if he'd look and sound the same if he was flushed and panting from jerking his cock… I imagined him lying on his bed, jerking his cock. Fuck, I was getting so wet, and there wasn't enough stimulation over my shorts…

At this point, I was breathing a little heavier from the pleasure coursing through my veins. I raised my hips, pulling my shorts off my hips and haphazardly flinging it to the side of the bed. My right hand returned to my pussy, rubbing it all over my panties. My nipples had hardened from arousal over the course of my ministrations and they were now tenting the loose tee I had on. My other hand gripped the sheets, seeking an outlet with the pleasure I felt. Rubbing my clit over my panties felt really good, but I hungered for actual contact. Slipping my hand under the waistband of my panties, I sought out my clit. The first contact of my fingers and my clit led me to buck my hips involuntarily, letting out an "Aaah~". My knees knocked against each other as I clenched my thighs around my hand.

As I rubbed circles around my clit, I imagined [Y/N]'s fingers on my pussy. I imagined his fingers rubbing my clit the same way I was now, as he leaned over me shirtless, lowering himself to bring his lips to mine. I bit my bottom lip, hissing in pleasure, as I imagined him licking at my lips and meeting my tongue with his, frenching me as he pleasured my pussy just the way I liked. God, this fantasy was making me so wet; I felt my juices flowing out of my naughty pussy and wetting my fingers. If this carried on, I'd surely end up wetting my underwear.

My fingers kept circling my clit as I arched my back, pushing my nipples against the thin material of my T-shirt. "Aaah~ fuck~" I moaned, my fist balling the sheets under me. I bit my lip again, keeping my vocal outlet to hisses and releases of breath. I kept circling my clit, refusing to give in to the temptation to play with my own breasts.

In my mind, [Y/N] had stopped frenching me and had turned his attention to my neck. I imagined his tongue running a line from my collarbone to my neck, before he bit onto my earlobe. I imagined him whispering to me, "You're mine now, Mina. All mine…" I writhed on the bed at the thought, leaning my head to the left, exposing my neck to the [Y/N] in my fantasy. As he left butterfly kisses down my neck, I imagined him pulling back up and asking, "Ooh, what's this?" as he reached for my right nipple. I released the tightly balled sheets from my iron grip, timing my movements with my fantasy. Imaginary [Y/N] tugged on my nipple, fondling my right breast over my T-shirt. I could not resist the moans that left my lips, and I let the fantasy run wild as I rhythmically tugged on my nipple, my fingers now teasing the entrance of my pussy, coating my fingers in my fluids.

"Mmmf~ fuck~" The wet, slick sounds of my fingers playing with my pussy echoed in my room, as I prepared to penetrate myself. I was very pent up now, as I imagined myself stripping naked to let imaginary [Y/N] fuck my slutty pussy with his hard cock. I couldn't take my own teasing any longer.

"Aaaagh~! Fuck it!" I hooked my thumbs to the waistband of my panties, frantically pulling them off myself. Pulling up my shirt to expose my bare breasts to the cool air, I began to fondle myself, ignoring the volume of my moans. I spread my legs wide, letting the [Y/N] in my mind see how wet I was for him. At the same time, I circled my clit for a short while more before penetrating myself with my middle and ring fingers, imagining a naked [Y/N] penetrating my wet pussy with his hard cock. I moaned his name out loud at the pleasure from my fingers. My pussy sucked my fingers in, squeezing them in a vice like grip. My tight pussy refused to let my fingers go, and I released a loud exclamation and moan of [Y/N]'s name. I was so fucking wet now and wished [Y/N] was fucking my pussy for real.

"How does my cock feel in your pussy, babe? How does it feel having me fuck your wet slutty pussy?" I began to thrust my fingers in my pussy, my other hand gripping my breasts hard, mimicking the imaginary [Y/N] fucking my slutty body. "Mmm~ fuck~ [Y/N]... aaah~ you're so big, so hot, mmmh~," I moaned out, "you fuck me so good, so fucking good~ aaah~ I need more of your cock~"

I angled my hand to be able to both thrust in my pussy and rub my clit directly. "Yes! Right there! Mmmf~ fuck!" With practiced ease, my fingers rubbed the rough patch on the front of my pussy on each thrust, and it did not take long before I was on my way to orgasm.

I could hear [Y/N]'s gruff voice in my ear as I worked my way to orgasm. "You're mine, Mina. I'm gonna fuck you until you cum on my cock, and I'm gonna fill your pussy with my cum. Take my cum, slut." Imaginary [Y/N] began to pound my pussy as I simulated his thrusts through the use of my fingers. My pussy got tighter and wetter with each thrust, each tug of my nipples fraying the tense rope keeping me from falling over the edge. I was so close, so fucking close… I needed to cum hard...

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Shit! That feels so good, fuck~! I'm so close, I'm so close, fuck! [Y/N], fuck, [Y/N], I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum I'm gonna fucking cum on your cock, fuck, I'm gonna- aaAAAH~!"

My pussy squeezed my fingers within as a rush of fluid sprayed onto my fingers and palm. My hips bucked uncontrollably as I carried on thrusting through my orgasm to prolong the pleasure, my free hand dropping back to the sheets and gripping them as I writhed in pleasure, riding out the orgasm I desperately needed. My tight pussy finally relaxed enough for me to pull out, and my lust-addled thoughts brought me to bring my fingers up to let me taste my own cum. I licked my own juices akin to my favorite ice cream, short licks harvesting my cum from my fingers into my mouth. I smiled at how naughty I was, imagining my lovely housemate railing my slutty body, wet and ready for him to fuck, fingerfucking myself to him, and then tasting my own cum. As I lay exhausted on my bed, I made myself comfortable, opening my shut eyes to catch eye contact with [Y/N], peeking through the crack in my open door, squeezing his bulge that stuck through the zipper of his jeans, the wet spot evident on his briefs.

[Y/N] darted to his room straight after, and I could not believe he had just watched and heard me fucking myself while fantasizing about him. Again, I was very mortified. How could I forget he came back early today??

I had so much to think about now… what do I do and how can I face him for dinner tonight?

Flashes of [Y/N]'s bulge whizzed past my mind again, sending a new wave of arousal down to my pussy. Fuck… what do I do now? Groaning in embarrassment, I divested myself of my tee, wrapping myself in a towel, grabbing clean clothes, and going for a shower.

----------

[Y/N's POV]

The cold shower did not help.

Throughout my shower, I was painfully hard. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear Mina moaning my name, see her fingers thrusting into her wet pussy, the slick sounds of her arousal ringing in my ears, and the visual of her arching her back, her face frozen in a broken scream, hips bucking wildly as she fucked her own pussy through orgasm, and her naughty smile as she licked her fingers clean.

I sighed in resignation at my current situation. It was clear that I'd have to deal with this issue myself over the next few days and try to maintain a normal relationship with Mina. Opening the door to the bathroom while drying my wet hair, I met Mina's wide brown eyes staring back at me, her bare arm reaching out for the door handle. Looking down over her body, I gasped in shock. Mina had styled her messy hair a little bit, but she was still visually sweaty and sticky from her earlier exertion. However, she was clad in nothing but a towel, her other arm carrying her fresh clothing to change to. My eyes roamed over her body; bare shoulders exposed, the smooth skin still a little flushed, yet so desirable. Her defined collarbones next, then down her bare arms, my eyes darting to her chest and down her torso, to her bare legs. I felt myself grow hard as I stared at the hint of cleavage above her towel, then to her bare legs, swapping between both parts of her body. I looked back up at Mina's face, which was coloured red by a blush. The constellation of moles on her face shone to my eyes, which trailed down each mole before locking on her brown eyes.

She was a work of art. Her parents' masterpiece. Not only was she such a pleasure to be friends with, she was (very) easy on the eyes, and her body was downright fucking sinful. God knows the things I'd do to get to bed her…

"[Y/N]?" Mina's soft voice snapped me out of my daydreams. Slapping a hand over my eye, I exclaimed out my apologies, pulling the door open and letting her in, before running out of the bathroom back to my own room.

----------

[Mina's POV]

I knew I had [Y/N] in the palm of my hand.

I knew what I was doing wearing only a towel. I knew he would go for a shower straight after, hearing the bathroom door close straight after.

He peeped on me. I wasn't angry that he did, after all, this was a bit of a fantasy of mine and it was turning me on so much knowing he watched me fuck myself thinking of his cock in my pussy. However, he peeped on me, and it was only fair for me to use the same body he peeped on to tease him.

I want to push him to his limit. How much of me can he take before he masturbates to me like I did to him?

[Y/N] has a moderately strong moral and ethical code. On a night where we were both drinking, under the influence of the liquid courage, I quizzed him on what he would do if he caught a girl masturbating to him. I'm sure it put a lot of thoughts to his head, but he had a genuine and serious look on his face when he told me he would not take advantage of or touch himself thinking of it. Those were her private times and if he came across it, he would try his best to ignore it as much as possible, though he did admit that if it really happened, he would not be able to resist watching…

Lesser men probably would have taken advantage of the girl in such a vulnerable state.

He was so cute, embarrassed yet trying to give me a proper answer while attempting to subtly check out my body. It was clear who the girl in his mind's eye was.

Oh yes, his feelings. Clear as day. I wanted him to confess first though. I never got the courage to. :(

Well, everyone has their weaknesses. Lord knows if I found him masturbating to me, I'd watch him too...

I giggled as I turned on the shower. He wouldn't know what awaited him. After all, everyone had their dirty desires deep down, and innocent shy homebody Myoui Mina also had her own perverted desires, and that involved teasing and seducing her sexy housemate until he broke, ultimately leading him into her open arms and into her bed.

As I lathered myself in soap and gave myself a good clean scrub, I thought back to earlier, when I caught eyes with [Y/N]. I focused on his bulge sticking out of his zipper and the wet spot of precum at the tip. He was so turned on by me and my body… My clit throbbed and I felt myself get wet again.

'I guess this is round two for me,' I thought, as my fingers reached down to my pussy again.

"Mmmf~"

----------

[Mina's POV - Post Shower]

Ah, what a relaxing shower…

I walked over to the kitchen, hearing the sizzle of a hot pan. I carried on drying my wet hair, walking into the kitchen. "Hey [Y/N], good evening," I greeted with a smile. [Y/N] seemed to jump at my voice, looking anywhere but at me, his skin flushed. "Ah! Err… good evening Mina, dinner's almost ready." I smirked, walking over to him as he turned back to the pan, one hand nervously scratching at his neck.

"Yaaah~, why're you so red? Are you ill?" I grabbed [Y/N]'s hand, pulling him to face me before putting my hand to his forehead. "No, you're fine…" I pouted, whining and shaking to act cute for him, "nnnhhh~, you're not looking at me when I talk to you. What's wrong?" I pinched both his cheeks and pulled him to look straight into my eyes as I puffed my cheeks, pout still in full force.

I thought it was impossible for [Y/N] to get any redder. I was quickly proven wrong as he froze for a short while, before quickly darting out of my grasp to attend to the sizzling pan. I whined again, "Oeiii~ reply me reply me reply me reply meeee~" as I poked his arm rhythmically.

"N-nothing, Mina, I'm okay…" He sounded so shaky. I laughed, poking his cheek and leaving to hang up my towel and get ready for dinner. "Tease ya~"

As I hung up my towel, I internally squealed at how cute he was being flustered. I would have never been brave enough to do this, but circumstances now had clearly changed, and I had power over him… the smile on my face quickly turned devious. I would tease him even more soon…

----------

[Y/N POV]

Mina was killing me. She was out for my blood.

Not only was it bad enough to have the image of her nubile and supple naked body burnt into every corner of my mind and the sound of her orgasm ringing in my ears, she came to the kitchen in another clean oversized tee and shorts. Although this wasn't any different attire at home in the past year, knowing that this was the most comfortable homewear to her, the fact that I knew what she looked like under those layers and how she sounded in her most intimate and vulnerable of times, I could not help but feel a deep lust for her that I had to fight to control. I'd been painfully erect for a while now and I clearly needed to quit thinking about it. To make things even worse, her hair was wet and a little messy still, and a Mina with wet hair and bareface was even worse for my health than a made up Mina was.

I refuse to masturbate to her. She asked me once about what I would do if I caught a girl masturbating while thinking of me. I don't know if she was asking me because of a lack of inhibition due to the alcohol we were drinking, or if it was out of a burning curiosity. She was particularly eager to know my answer though. I told her that I would try my best to ignore it and leave, but… I had to admit I probably would fail and watch…

At that time, I was already deep in crush with her, and my mind instantly wandered to imagining her on her bed fingering herself to me. I could not control myself from checking her body out before answering, and while she adorned a gentle smile as she waited patiently, her eyes twinkled with mirth. Visions of her with a hand between her legs, her grinding her pussy on a bed frame, her arching her back in orgasm, her pussy gushing as she bucks wildly, streams of cum squirting out and forming puddles on the floor… I had to fight these thoughts to answer her quickly before it started getting weird.

I invaded her privacy. It was not right for me to act on the events I had viewed. I knew if she did not know that I had seen what she was doing, I was technically in the clear… and this current notion of not acting on the visuals of her was probably hypocritical, as I had clearly spent many nights in the past year bringing myself to orgasm through imagining her beautiful body...

I did not know what to do with myself.

"Hey [Y/N], good evening."

I felt so embarrassed jumping at the sweet sound of her voice. "Ah! Err… good evening Mina, dinner's almost ready." I couldn't look at her for longer than a second.

"Yaaah~, why're you so red? Are you ill?" She pulled my arm, getting me to face her with her left hand, and raising her right, landing the knuckles of her fingers to my forehead. "No, you're fine…" She began to pout, sending my heart rate up. Stomping her feet, she whined and shook herself, swaying my arm with both her hands on my left wrist. "Nnnhhh~, you're not looking at me when I talk to you. What's wrong?" She pinched both my cheeks, then squished my face in her hands. She locked eyes with me in a mock glare, her cheeks puffed out akin that of a chipmunk or squirrel, and the same pout from earlier still being weaponized against me.

How could I look at her? I was so ashamed that I peeped on her. Furthermore, all I could think of was that the fingers on my forehead were the same fingers that were in her pussy and fucked her to satisfaction, and the same fingers she licked her orgasm off of.

I leaned a bit into her touch, feeling the cold of her hands on my cheeks. The aroma of her buttermilk body wash enveloped my senses, the only sound audible being my heartbeat. I could feel the heat of my face, and I felt so shy and uneasy in her hands. She'd never initiated this type of skinship with me before, and her hands were so smooth, her aroma so intoxicating, and she looked so adorable with puffed cheeks and pout on her face.

"Oeiii~ reply me reply me reply me reply meeee~" She poked me in the arm repeatedly. I felt faint. The pout never left her face and her high-pitched cutesy voice made her so much more lovable...

How could someone so sexy be so adorable?

"N-nothing, Mina, I'm okay…" Fuck, I sounded so unsure of myself.

She giggled, her eyes evidently showing her amusement and mischief. "Tease ya~." She poked my cheek, exiting to the balcony to hang up her towel.

--

Mina wasn't done with me.

Dinner was so awkward together since I had been shocked into silence from today. I couldn't even take glances at Mina without a mix of arousal, shame, and shyness. Every time my eyes met Mina's, she would smirk at me.

"[Y/N], are you okay? You're so shy today, did something happen? Hehehe"

… was that a hint? Did she see me?

No, no, no.

No no no no.

There's no way.

I blushed redder.

"You can tell me anything, you know?" She giggled again, a coy smile curving her lips. "I'll try to help you just as you've… helped me…"

My cock strained against my shorts.

Her tone seemed to hint to me that she knew of my viewing of her, but her smile had become half coy and half genuine. I did not know what to feel.

"Okay, thanks Mina."

Dinner was uneventful after as we both ate our fill.

Everything that had transpired today kept replaying in my mind. I really needed to sleep over today. I rose from my chair, getting ready to clear up and wash the dishes.

"[Y/N]!" I felt Mina come from behind me, her arms wrapping around my torso in a back hug. She embraced me tightly, tiptoeing to reach my ear, whispering to me, "Thank you for dinner today, hehe." She squeezed a little tighter.

I could feel her soft breasts pushing against my back. Her hot breath at my ear gave me a shudder, her lips nearly touching my ear. Her scent once again enveloped my senses, and I leaned back into her touch a bit. "Ah! Y-you're welcome, Mina."

I could hear her smile, and next thing I knew, I could feel her soft lips land near my nape, just above my collarbone. I audibly gasped, another shudder running through my body. I whipped around, stumbling backwards a bit away from Mina, my left hand reaching up to the spot she had just left a kiss on. Her lips were puckered slightly, slowly morphing into a smile. "Good night, [Y/N]." She turned around, skipping from the kitchen back to her room.

She was seducing me and I had to shamefully admit it was working.

I blushed. Her boobs were really soft.

----------

[Mina's POV]

In the safety of my own room, I jumped onto my bed, squealing into my pillow. [Y/N] was so cute!!! I was out to fluster him with just words but I ended up probably turning him on and getting to finally hug and kiss him like how I would in my daydreams.

This man was so turned on during dinner. I did not intend to hug him, but I had a rush of confidence and decided to follow my heart, and I could feel his shudders with my breath on his ear and my kiss on his neck. In my hug, I made sure to squeeze him tight, and I'm sure he felt my chest on his back… I hope he liked that.

I'm so happy he liked what I did today.

--

I woke up the next morning, a large smile on my face. Picking up my phone, I viewed the notifications from last night and the early morning.

Text from [Y/N]: Hey Mina, I'm going to school for a consultation session. Will be back at 12pm.

It was 10am now, and on a Friday. I had no classes on a Friday, and neither did he. Tonight was our gaming night, and… now I had three days to break his resolve.

He was my prey now, and I'm determined to get what I want.

Getting up from my bed, I stretched upwards. I had a really good few days to sleep in, and a few days to try to seduce [Y/N]. What's not to love about the weekend?

Heading to the bathroom, I passed by the wall mirror hung up in the hallway. God, I looked good this morning. I had slept the night prior in a thin T-shirt and boyshorts, forgoing the bra for comfort, of course. Sure, my hair was messy from sleep, but I knew for a fact I looked really good today. Snapping a few pictures with my phone, I smirked to myself. I couldn't help but think, 'It's not every day I feel this good, why not take more pics of my body?' Raising my shirt to reveal my breasts, I bit onto the hem of my shirt as I snapped a pic. I then took off my shirt, snapping more pics of my bare chest, before stripping bare and taking more photos of my nude body. I looked so hot. 'Maybe one day I could send these to [Y/N],' I thought, 'Investment.'

Putting my clothes back on, I proceeded to the kitchen for breakfast

--

"I'm home!"

I rose from my place on the couch, calling out "Okaeri". As [Y/N] walked into the living room, I stretched upwards, smiling in content at the comfort. When I opened my eyes, [Y/N] was furiously blushing once more, and his eyes were locked onto my chest.

Oh right, I'm not wearing a bra.

Well, I didn't plan this… but sure, I'm gonna make use of it.

"Like something you see~?" I swayed my hips a bit as I made my way to him. Pulling my shirt down a bit to show my cleavage, I bent down a little as I looked him straight in the eye with a smile. I could see him short circuiting; his eyes were locked on my boobs, and he might have actually forgotten how to breathe. [Y/N] shook his head, looking away while pulling my shirt up for me. "You can't do this, Mina! A lady shouldn't be doing this!" Such a cutie, flustered and horny at the same time.

"Nnngh~, why not?" I turned up my cuteness, hugging his arm and pulling it right between my breasts. Coy smile in place, I locked eyes with him, seeing him redden. "Mina, you're not usually like this. What's gotten into you?" I smirked, tiptoeing to reach his ear. "Maybe… I want you to watch me," I whispered. [Y/N] recoiled in shock, out of my grasp, but I just winked at him, pushing my hair up with my left hand, sultrily whispering once more, "Only look at me."

[Y/N]'s eyes were still switching between my face and breasts, and I was sure he could see my nipples tenting the T-shirt. His eyes travelled down to my boyshort panties and smooth milky legs, then to my thigh gap. I was starting to get horny from the pure lust displayed in his eyes as he checked out my body.

I was riling him up as much as he was riling me up, and I loved playing with him like this. Sure, maybe I might be acting very slutty right now, but I know that he wouldn't give in to me so easily, and I want to break his resolve before I take him. I want him to want me as much as I wanted him yesterday, and I want to see him cum for me while moaning my name as he jerks himself off.

I would have never done this if I did not know how much he enjoyed watching me fuck myself to him, but with how turned on he was and how he feels about me, both romantically and morally, I think I'm not going to care too much about image…

"My eyes are up here, [Y/N]," I drawled, "Unless you want me to show you more~" As I prepared to strip myself of my shirt, he grabbed my hands and pulled my shirt down. "NO! Nonono, Mina, that's fine, that's fine."

So red. So flustered. So cute. So… vulnerable.

I giggled. "Come on, let's get lunch! What do you wanna order?"

--

I could feel [Y/N]'s eyes roam over my body throughout the afternoon. I made sure to sway my hips a bit more when I walked, stretch more to show my chest, and show more of my legs to him. God, his lustful eyes when he thought I wasn't looking… I could feel myself getting bolder as he watched me.

Maybe I've got an exhibitionist kink… but only for him.

I want him to look at me more…

I snuggled up next to him, feeling him stiffen. He shifted in his seat, unsubtly arranging the pillow covering his lap. "Hehe, you're so stiff… is there something wrong?" He averted his eyes from me, a restless drumming of his fingers tapping a rhythm into the pillow. "No, Mina, nothing's wrong…" He trailed off, as if uncertain of his own answer. Then, in a move of confidence, I straddled him, kneeling over the pillow on his lap. "Then why won't you look at me?" I pouted, resting my hands on his shoulders. He turned to me, before snapping his head to the left again. "Mina! What-?! No, no, stop!" Grabbing his face with my hands, I turned his head to face my eyes. "You can look, I don't mind~"

[Y/N] seemed to have overheated. I giggled, getting off him. "I'm gonna go shower, enjoy yourself!"

----------

[Y/N's POV]

Mina was making it really hard for me not to jerk off to her.

She probably knows I saw her.

"Maybe… I want you to watch me"

"You can look, I don't mind~"

Coming home to an essentially almost naked Mina was a very… welcome surprise. A braless Mina only in a tee and panties was a dream I'd had for ages. Furthermore, she made sure to get her body in contact with mine, and give me the most amount of time to check her sexy body out.

God, her nipples tenting her shirt and that fucking thigh gap… I just wanted to rip her clothing off and fuck her pussy until she squirted all over the floor and I filled her hole with my cum.

I couldn't stop looking at her nipples, her legs, and that juicy ass in her boyshorts. She was quickly eroding my self control, and I really needed to rub one out soon… To make things even worse, she straddled me, giving me an eyeful of her body and the vision of what it would be like if she rode me. My resolve was quickly eroding, and it hadn't even been 24 hours since I watched her.

Mina's deep "You can look, I don't mind~" rang in my mind once more. I shook my head at the intrusive thought. I really wanted to keep looking, but I didn't feel like it was right to do so. This wasn't the usual Mina I was living with, it felt like this was Sharon Myoui instead, the more confident and sexy version.

Myoui Mina and Sharon Myoui were two sides of the same coin. Mina was the soft spoken homebody that giggled at the ending of spoken sentences, the girl that fluttered her legs when she was elated, waddled like a penguin when she walked, would gush and coo at how cute penguins and dogs were while "vibrating" by jumping and alternating between both left and right feet, and whose eyes would turn into crescents when she smiled her gorgeous gummy smile. This Mina was dorky and usually would be in the background doing something hilarious and cute.

Sharon, however, was the side of Mina when she got serious, when she was determined to obtain something she wanted. Sharon was basically the 'leader' part of Mina, when she took charge and made things happen. This side of Mina appeared if she was put in a leadership role, and she led with efficiency and high standards. This Mina was blunt and determined with endless fire and desire to succeed, and… this was the hottest Mina. She intimidated and aroused me a lot with this facet of her personality, and I… I would bottom for her if she came for me like that. This Mina knew what she wanted, and she knew she would get exactly what she wished for and how to obtain that success.

Now that she had locked the Sharon Myoui facet of her personality to me, I knew it was only a matter of time before I would give in. She'd given me a smug smirk as she left for her shower, and I basically just wet even more of my ruined briefs.

I refuse to jerk off to her.

My thoughts were interrupted by Mina calling my name, waving a hand in front of my eyes while bent to keep eye contact with me.

Oh fuck, she did this on purpose… a hoodie and boyshorts only? And the hoodie is unzipped enough to show a lot of her cleavage? Is she trying to flash me?

Mina smiled her crescent eye smile, no gums this time. "Ah, there we go. You were quite distracted. What were you thinking about?" Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she smirked, seemingly knowing that her giving me and eyeful of her cleavage was causing me to overheat once more. "I'm gonna cook dinner, what do you want?" Mina asked, tilting her head to the right. Before I could give her an actual answer, my mouth moved quicker than my brain could filter. "You."

Oh fuck. Fuck. What did I just say?

Mina's usually soft brown eyes were now hardened with lust and desire. She straightened up, once again kneeling on the couch and straddling me, a leg on either side of my thigh. I gripped the cushion on my lap hard, a rush of arousal shooting straight to my hard cock. Fuck, it hurts… straining against my pants for so long did not feel good at all. She had the hood of her hoodie up when she first greeted me, and now that she was on top of me, she had raised her left hand to push the hood off her as she flicked her hair back. She bit her bottom lip and sank onto the cushion as I quickly retracted my arms to avoid touching her. Her weight fully rested on the cushion as her arms snaked around my neck and she shifted to keep level eye contact with me.

"Oh," she breathed, "are you sure?" Her intense gaze seemed to pierce into my very soul. She bit her bottom lip, grinding down on the cushion in a slow circle, her actions causing the cushion to rub on my cock pleasurably. A whimper escaped my lips at her burning gaze, her lust and animalistic desire to consume her prey evident, and the pleasure from her essentially grinding directly on my cock. One hand of hers slid down to the zipper of her hoodie, then she slipped the zipper down enough to show the valley between her breasts and the lack of a bra.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry!" I pushed Mina off me onto the couch, as I rotated and leapt off. I caught a glimpse of Mina's confused face turning into disappointment as I sprinted into my room and shut the door, sinking to the ground in embarrassment. Oh wait… I left Mina there. In disappointment. 'I have to fix that immediately', I thought, as I opened the door to my room.

"Mina I do want you, you're fucking hot as hell but not like this, I'm so sorry!"

Fuck, what was I saying?

Slamming the door shut, I winced, then rushed to fill the silence of my room with music.

'Ding!'

I looked at my mobile phone. Myoui Mina has sent you a message.

I opened the private chat we had, and threw my phone away in shock.

Mina had sent a picture of herself wearing the same hoodie, and only the hoodie. She sat on the couch, spreading her legs open to show her glistening pussy. Her hoodie was spread open to show her breasts and pert nipples.

Myoui Mina: This could have been yours if you'd just let me fuck you.

'Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!'

I had to look. A whole set of pictures.

The next picture consisted of Mina in the same position, but her free hand spread her pussy lips wide open for the camera.

Myoui Mina: Look at how wet I was for you.

Another picture - Mina now sent a picture of her fingers, wet strands of fluid stuck between said fingers.

A video now.

"Aaaaah~" Mina, in the video, was fucking herself furiously with her fingers on the couch. "Fuck~ [Y/N]~ you feel so fucking good~ fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna- [Y/N]~"

Mina's scream of pleasure was accompanied by the gushing of fluids from her pussy. Her free hand rubbed her clit hard, prolonging her orgasm. Squirt after squirt of her juices shot out of her orgasming pussy, the sound of the liquid splashing all over the floor.

A final voice note.

"I could've squirted all over your cock, [Y/N]. It's a shame I had to fuck myself to an orgasm… I wish you'd been the one to fuck me to an orgasm before filling my slutty pussy with your cum. Think about that, [Y/N]. You could've made me cum screaming your name just like I did in the video…"

--

I could not sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Mina grinding on the cushion on my lap, Mina biting her lips, Mina staring at me with pure lust and desire, Mina's pink pussy, shining with arousal, Mina fucking herself on her fingers, Mina squirting all over the living room screaming my name.

How was I going to sleep now?

--

Mina's soft voice. "Oh, are you sure?"

Mina was grinding on my lap again, as she unzipped her hoodie to show me her breasts. "Look at me, babe." She pulled the hoodie off her shoulders, letting it slip off and pool around her forearms and waist, exposing her beautiful breasts for my viewing pleasure. She grabbed my hand, placing it on her left breast. "Touch me."

I fondled her breast, kneading and squeezing it as moans of pleasure left her lips. Mina then brought a hand to the back of my head, pulling me into a torrid kiss. When we broke for air, I bent down to suckle on her right nipple while I pinched and pulled at her left, causing her to grind down harder, which led me to groan at the increased sensations down below. Mina bent backwards, allowing me easier access to her breasts, as she stroked my head, whispering, "Good boy, that feels so good~ mmmh~"

"Stop." I looked up at her in confusion, as she got off my lap. Slipping both thumbs under the waistband of her boyshorts, she pushed them off. Strings of her arousal clung to her pussy and her boyshorts. As she let her underwear drop, she also pulled off the hoodie around her forearms, dropping it on the floor, leaving her naked in front of me.

She straddled me once more, pulling the cushion on my lap away. "Look at how wet you've made me, baby." Her voice was deeper than usual, her lust and desire evident in the breathy tone of her voice as her fingers spread her glistening pussy open in front of my eyes, while she leaned back, placing an arm behind her to support herself. Her fingers moved up to circle her clit, as she smiled slyly. "I wish you'd said yes, [Y/N]." Her fingers moved to rub her clit directly. "You could've stripped me. You could've taken me to bed. You could've fucked me and made me a slut for your cock."

She pushed two fingers into herself, hilting them at her knuckles. "Mmmf~ fuck," She withdrew her fingers, then thrusted back in, repeating the motion. "This… this could've been your cock, [Y/N]." Every alternate word was broken up by a moan as she pushed her fingers into herself. "Instead of… ahhh~ fucking myself- mmmf~ I… I could be- hnng~ cumming on your cock, aaah~"

Mina threw her head back, a guttural moan erupting from deep within her. Her fingers appeared to curl within her, stimulating her G-spot. "Fuck," the curse word was drawn out in a hiss, "fuck, fuck, fuck, that feels so good, fuck~"

My gaze travelled over her body. My hands moved to try to touch her, but Mina was quick to grab me. "Ah, ah, no touching from now on." She snapped her fingers with the hand that she was using to support herself, leaning forward to stare deep into my eyes. Her smile was coy, but her eyes were menacing, as if daring me to disobey. As I tried to move my hands, I found them bound behind me with zip ties to the bed frame. Wait… bed frame??

How did I get to her room?

Mina tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet her eyes. "Only look at me, darling. I want you to watch." She had withdrawn her fingers from her pussy; they were dripping with her juices. She lifted them to her own mouth, opening wide and sucking on her own fingers. I could see her tongue move, swirling around her digits, cleaning her fingers of her own pussy juices before she released them with an audible 'pop'.

My cock strained hard against my track pants. The bulge of my cock was painful, my precum staining through my underwear and forming a wet spot at the tip of the bulge. I squirmed under her, resisting against the ties. Mina looked down at my bulge, a big smile on her face. "I'm feeling generous today, darling. Because you've been so good today, you get to cum." She snapped her fingers once more, and I was now naked, lying on the bed with my arms around my head, still tied at the wrists to the bed. In the back of my mind, I questioned how she was able to manipulate reality to her will like that, but that thought was shelved when she sank down, pushing my cock against my stomach. Her pussy lips wrapped around the underside of my cock, and she began to rub up and down the length.

Mina smirked, her eyes glazed over, drunk in power. "Mmmf~ so hard for me, darling? Were you… aaah~... this hard when you… nngh~... watched me cum?" She ground down hard, reaching behind her to cup and play with my balls. Every few words of hers were broken up with gasps of pleasure. "Did me cumming while moaning your name feel good? Does it feel good knowing you're the reason I fuck myself? That this pussy cums for you?" Her thrusts on my cock were beginning to speed up.

"Mina-"

Mina glared at me, stopping her grinding on my cock. I squirmed, attempting to grind on her for my own pleasure. She raised herself up, just out of my reach. "Shut the fuck up. You're my slut now. My toy. My personal stress relief. You listen to me, and me only. Speak only if I tell you to. Speak up again and I will leave." She then leaned in, her eyes looking at my lips, then to my eyes. Her left hand caressed my cheek, before her thumb ran over my lips. "Be a good boy, and I'll let you cum…" She then snapped her fingers again, and I no longer could speak, just moan in pleasure for her ears.

Mina lowered herself once more, grinding down hard. Her pussy was leaking copious amounts of her juices, making a mess of both our crotches. Slick sounds echoed around the room, her wetness evident both visually and audibly. "Darling, are you gonna cum for me just like I came for you? Are you going to paint yourself white for me?" She grinded down forcefully, her pants turning to whines and whimpers, before turning to actual moans, of which each was interrupting her speech. "Cum for me, toy. Cum for me like I'm going to cum for you. Show me the load you'd put in my pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm gonna… fuck! I'm gonna-"

Mina's hips bucked up, her pussy gushing. The visuals of the first stream of her squirt prompted me to cum myself, my spurts violent. I could only feel the pleasure of my own orgasm; nothing else in the world mattered when everything was whited out. Dimly, I noted Mina's streams landing all over my body, drenching me all over, as well as the bed sheets. When I opened my eyes, I was covered in a messy mix of semen, sweat, and Mina's juices.

Mina's next words were "Wake up."

--

"Blurrgh!" I sat up awake in shock. What the fuck was that dream? Panting heavily, I leaned backwards, attempting to calm down my pounding heart. What the fuck just happened? Wiping my sweat on my brow, I stared at the ceiling in a daze.

As I shifted to kick the blankets away in order to dissipate the heat from my body, I could feel an uncomfortable stickiness all over my body… and even more at my crotch. Sure, I was sweating profusely and very warm from the dream, which explained the stickiness on my body… but on my crotch…

Oh. I'd ejaculated in my pants.

The large wet spot on the front of my shorts was evident enough that my cum had soaked through my underwear.

Fuck.

----------

[Mina's POV]

Yesterday evening, I sent [Y/N] his first nudes of me. Me fucking myself to a fantasy of him and then squirting all over his living room. If only he'd just given in and fucked me; its not like he didn't want my pussy. I would have squirted on his cock.

Fuck it. I'm gonna break him now.

If he'd just given in, I'd not only submit to him, I'd have been his slut to fuck. Now that he'd resisted me, I really want to break him and make him my slut.

Shy [Y/N], so cute and flustered under me.

Fanning my dirty thoughts away, I prepared to shower and take my leave to the dance studio for practice.

--

"Thanks for today guys! I'll stay back for a bit more practice!"

I waved bye to my fellow classmates, before returning to the studio. While I did intend to practice more, I also really wanted to send [Y/N] something naughty. Locking the door, I giggled to myself.

I was wearing just a sports bra and yoga pants. I snapped a pic of myself, posing with a peace sign for the camera, before sending it to [Y/N].

'I am coming back a bit later, I'm working on something right now.'

Little would he know, I was working on taking my bra off my body. I was now topless in the studio.

'How do you like my body?'

I then decided to work my leggings and panties down my legs, stripping until I was nude. Fuck, I felt so naughty being nude in the dance studio. Kneeling on the ground, I began to snap a few pictures of myself.

'Did you have fun watching me cum?'

I then took a video of myself, running the lens from my face to my breasts, then down to my pussy.

'Maybe next time, all this would be for you.'

Smirking naughtily, I put on some music, set my camera to film, before proceeding to dance in the nude.

----------

[Y/N's POV]

Mina sent me more nudes.

She was testing my patience, and I wasn't the most patient person in the world when it came to her.

The video of her performing Taemin's Move nude was even worse - those hips, that stare, her thighs, her plump ass, the jiggling of her breasts each time she moved, and… oh my god, when she swung her right leg in a circle and flashed her pussy for the world to see… She was testing me and I was very close to failing.

As I watched the video with my earbuds plugged in, Mina popped her head into my room, waving cheerfully. "Konnichiwa, [Y/N]! Why're you so red?" I was ashamed to say I fumbled and dropped the phone in my hands.

Mina giggled, hiding her beautiful gummy smile with her hand. "Hehehe, watching something… naughty? Something personal?" She smirked cheekily, before announcing, "I've got something on soon, I'll be having lunch outside~ See you!"

I groaned after she left, proceeding for a freezing shower to get rid of my dirty thoughts.

Mina's body is divine.

--

I hummed a tune as the bacon sizzled in the pan. Breakfast for lunch seemed like a pretty good idea, and I couldn't resist bacon.

As I plated my bacon and eggs...

'Ding!'

Hmm, what was this?

Oh, fuck. Mina was sending me pictures again. This time, she was thankfully clothed, but what she wore was just as hot as if she had sent me pictures of her nude body. Her ginger hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she had on a beautiful suit. She appeared to be in the bathroom, seeing that a sink could be seen in the mirror she was using as a photography tool.

Holy fuck.

Mina knew of my weakness for suits. I'd told her before that anyone that wore a suit was hot in my eyes because of how put together they looked. I'd admitted that people in a suit, especially ladies, sometimes made me intimidated and flustered.

A voice note this time. "Hi [Y/N] baby, don't you like how I dressed for you?"

Another picture came in. Mina now had her tie loosened, and her hand was pushing her hair back. The next picture had Mina with two of the buttons on her dress shirt unbuttoned, showing her cleavage, with her tie pushed aside. She had untied her hair, letting it frame her beautiful face.

"[Y/N]-ah, I'm stripping for you now… I know you like it~" A giggle. "Hehe, enjoy~"

Another picture. Mina's dress shirt was now fully unbuttoned, a lace bra cupping her perky breasts, her tie nowhere to be seen.

Even more pictures. Mina with her shirt unbuttoned, now without a bra, showing the valley between her breasts. Mina with the blazer around her biceps, off her shoulders. Mina without a blazer. Mina with the dress shirt now off her shoulders, around her arms, still covering her breasts but exposing the smooth, milky skin of her bare shoulders, and her defined collarbones.

'Ding!' Mina sent another picture, this time of her with the camera held up behind her untied hair, her bare back facing the camera, with her free hand held up in a peace sign.

With each picture, my dick grew harder and harder. She sent her killing blow next.

[ Myoui Mina is initiating a video call… ]

"Hey, [Y/N]~"

Mina was still in a state of undress, the camera held at face level, just enough to catch her bare shoulders and hints of her cleavage. The mirror behind her captured the beauty of her bare back.

"What the fuck, Mina? What're you doing?"

"Oh, darling~ you don't have to be so shocked, it's not like you haven't seen me before." She laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You had so much fun watching me finger myself to you. If I'd known you were watching, I'd have called you in so you could pound my pussy until you filled me with cum and my pussy milked all the cum from your balls."

The absolute filth spilled from Myoui Mina's lips was something I'd never have expected to hear in my lifetime. These few days showed that Mina was more than just my elegant, respectful, beautiful, and considerate housemate; she was also a woman with her sexual desires, wants, and needs, and she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. In this case, she wanted me, and this was her way of doing so, through usage of her supple body and knowledge of my thinking processes and what ticked my checkboxes.

"I still have presents for you, baby. Guess what I'm doing right now?"

"Mina, I… Mina, what?"

"Yaaah~ you're not answering my question~ I'm doing something just for you, baby. Only for you." She winked, giving me a long gummy smile. "I'll let you see, chotto matte yo~~"

The screen shifted, now showing the white ceiling of the bathroom she was in. I heard the sounds of her belt unbuckling, and a short zip sound, before the camera was picked up again.

"Hihi, baby!" She panned the camera down, showing me her magnificent body… Oh. Oh. Her hand was in her pants, seemingly rubbing circles around her clit.

"Fuck~ that feels so good, mmmf~... Baby, I'm touching myself for you again~ This time… let Mommy show you what she does to her pussy when she thinks of you."

A whimper escaped my lips uncontrolled.

"Did Mommy's words turn you on, baby? Are you hard and twitching for me? Whip it out for me, baby. Flip the view. Show Mommy how much you like what you're seeing." Her deep and sultry tone, punctured with the occasional gasp and moan of pleasure, sent streaks of arousal straight down to my twitching dick, now leaking lots of precum. I swapped the view of my camera, pulling my pants down to set my cock free of its confinements within my shorts.

"Fuck baby, you're so fucking big… and so wet for Mommy. Jerk yourself for Mommy as Mommy strips for you." Mina propped the camera against the wall, turning around and pulling her trousers down with her panties. She bent over, flashing her ass and her drenched pussy to the camera as I jerked myself looking at her stripping. Mina turned around, placing her clothing out of the frame, standing in the bathroom naked.

"I'm glad no one ever comes here. Mommy can be loud and make a mess, and no one will know but you and me." Her lust-filled tone was turning me on more and more. Mina put her right hand down to her pussy, and her wrist curled up and she bit her lip and furrowed her brow, closing one eye. "Mmmf~, look baby," she put her hands closer to the camera, showing me the strands of her juices coating her fingers, "look at how wet Mommy is showing you what a slut she is. Mommy's a slut for your cock, baby. She wants your cock to fuck her pussy hard, to pound it until it cums and squirts all over you. Mommy wants you to fuck her until you fill her with cum and it leaks down her legs and thighs." She withdrew her hands from the camera, moving them back to her pussy as she picked up the camera and walked to an empty stall with a seating toilet, the cover already down. Sitting down on the toilet, Mina spread her legs, her fingers already penetrating her pussy and curling for her G-spot.

A sigh of pleasure released from Mina's open mouth as she leaned her head back. "Mommy's thinking… ah~... about your cock, baby…" Every few words she spoke were broken up with moans, sighs, hisses, or pants of pleasure. "I wish it was your cock in my pussy right now, baby. I wish you were kneeling and fucking into Mommy's slutty pussy as I spread for you. Don't you like that, baby? Don't you want Mommy's pussy around your cock?"

"Yes, Mina-"

Mina halted her actions. "What was that, baby?"

"I'm sorry, Mommy- fuck!" I jerked myself quicker, feeling myself edging slowly towards my orgasm at how Mina… no, Mommy had, so easily, made me submit to her.

Mina smiled. "What a filthy mouth. Mommy will let it slide this time, baby. Jerk yourself slow and good. I want you to come with Mommy. Not before, not after. Can you do that for Mommy, baby?"

"Yes, Mommy." I slowed my strokes down, disciplining myself to resist cumming first. Precum leaked out of the tip of my cock, lubricating the head. Whatever excess precum dripped to the ground.

Mina's bright smile on her face did not fit what filthy actions she was doing to herself, but that made it so much hotter. "Good job, baby. You're such a good boy. I promise you will enjoy your orgasm later. Hold on for me, okay?" She began to thrust faster and faster, moaning out loud each time her fingers curled over her G-spot. Her palm rubbed her clit with each thrust, slowly pushing her closer and closer to the edge of her release. "How does it feel, baby, to be watching me touch myself for you? Mommy's so wet and so horny watching you jerk yourself for her. Mommy's so happy you're dripping; it shows how happy you are to watch Mommy. Good job baby, I'm close, so close, fuck~"

"Mommy, fuck, I'm so close, so fucking close!"

Mina's sultry voice, broken with pants and moans, echoed from my speakers, "Yes, baby, cum for Mommy, cum with Mommy, fuck, I'm gonna, fuck-!"

"Fuck, Mommy, I'm coming!"

Mina's camera angle had switched to one from her point of view. The camera was now showing the door of the stall she was in, and her fingers furiously thrusting to bring herself to orgasm. Before she could finish her sentence, a long stream of fluid squirted from her pussy, her hand rushing to furiously rub her clit left and right, her squirt spraying all over the stall walls, floor, and door. She moaned gutturally as each stream exited, violent and strong. I could see her toes curling as she achieved her release.

The moment Mina squirted her first stream, semen shot out of the tip of my dick all over the floor. I bucked my hips into my hand, fucking my own hand to prolong my orgasm, as more spurts of cum shot out and created a puddle on the floor. As I collapsed to the floor, Mina's exhausted voice flowed to my ears, "Fuck baby, you came so much for Mommy… Good job, baby, Mommy came so much for you too." Mina's smile could be heard through the speakers. "You did so well for me… Mommy's proud of you. Now go clean up, Mommy will be back for dinner."

"Yes Mommy, thank you Mommy."

Mina giggled, the camera flipping to see Mina gazing at her drenched hand, covered in a coating of her squirt. Mina gave her hand multiple licks from top to bottom, as if she was sucking on a cock, all while her eyes never left the camera. I licked my dry lips, watching Mina clean herself.

"Maybe next time, it'll be your cock I'm licking."

[ Myoui Mina has ended the call. ]

My food was long cold by then.

----------

[Mina's POV]

As I rested on the toilet seat, recovering from my mindblowing orgasm, I smiled thinking of [Y/N]'s moans and submission to me. Making him call me Mommy turned me on so much that I'd squirted the most I had ever in my life; the stall I was in was covered in my juices. My squirt was flowing down the walls, the door, and dripping onto the ground, forming large puddles, as if someone had just showered.

Watching his cock spurt out so much semen was such a turn on, as well as knowing he'd just fucked himself for me. What an obedient little pet, so turned on and so wet just for me just by listening to my instructions. A good pet deserves a reward…

As I cleaned myself up, as well as the stall, and got dressed, I thought about how to seduce him one last time into my bed. I'm going to milk my pet for all he's worth.

I'm going to fuck him until I'm satisfied. I have waited long enough.

His reward will be my body.

--

"[Y/N], tadaima!"

I unlocked the front door to our shared apartment, dressed in the suit I'd used in our sex session over video. The aroma of fried rice wafted from the kitchen, accompanied by a "Shit!" and the sound of something dropping. Running to the kitchen, I was met with a red-faced [Y/N], picking up two spoons and forks from the ground. "Okaeri, Mo- Mina-ya." I smiled at his little slip of the tongue.

I walked over to him as he went to wash up the dropped utensils. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I leaned into his back, giving him a hug. "Thank you for cooking, [Y/N]." His body was so tense under my touch. He smelled really nice…

"Y-You're wel- welcome, Mina." His nerves were evident in his shaky and unsure voice. Turning him around as he dried his hands, I now embraced him from the front, burying my face into the crook of his neck. I felt [Y/N] finally wrap his arms around me, sinking into me just like I was sinking into his embrace.

"[Y/N]-ah, thank you for today too." I smiled at his sound of confusion, before I caressed his cheek with my hand. "Today's video call. I've never been so turned on in my life, and I've never cummed this hard before. And I did it with you. Thank you." With each word, [Y/N] got redder and redder, and he seemed to tense up, leaning away from me slightly, specifically his crotch. It was pretty clear why, but I did not want to embarrass him at this point. "Hey, don't get shy on me now," I said, flashing my gummy smile, "you've literally seen my naked body more than I've seen yours, from when you peeped on me to earlier today. I should be the mortified one here." Apologies spilled from [Y/N]'s mouth, but I silenced him with a finger on his lips. "It's okay, baby, I don't mind now, and I didn't mind then. However, I really have something I want off my chest now."

I took a deep breath in, then released it.

"Before I proceed with any of my other plans tonight, I kind of want to address the situation you caught me in on Thursday." I bit my lip, fiddling with my fingers. "Yes, I was fantasizing about you, and… I'm kind of ashamed you had to see that. I did not want to have you realise I think of you like that in that manner." Raising my hands to wrap around the back of [Y/N]'s neck, I stared into his eyes. "I like you, and I think you're hot."

[Y/N]'s eyes widened, before he pulled me into another hug, this one tighter than the rest. "Mina, thank you." His smile could be heard in his voice. "I like you too." As he withdrew, his hands trailed down my forearms to my hands, firmly clasping them in his. "I have something to say too. I'm sorry I peeped on you. I know you said you were cool, but I should have done better and not watched you. That was your private time and I should be respecting it, but I watched instead with perverted desires. This has been eating away at me, and I feel so sorry- mmph!"

I crashed my lips into his, yanking the collar of his tee to get him low enough to be able to take my kiss. I felt him lean into the kiss, reciprocating with as much desire for this as I had. As I pulled him closer, our kiss deepened, and my hands wrapped around his head while his arms wrapped around my waist.

We broke our kiss for air. I smiled, panting hard. "You were rambling, babe. It's okay, I'm fine with it. Let's have dinner before the food gets cold." I took [Y/N]'s hand, leading him to the table, draping my blazer over my chair, before proceeding to eat.

Dinner was a relatively quiet affair. [Y/N] couldn't hide his happiness as he seemed to have a dazed smile on at all times, and I was just watching him be his happiest. This was the cutest I'd ever seen him, and for the past year, I had seen so many moments of him being cute - when he was sleepy, when he was focusing on his work, when he was enthusing about his day or his interests, and that one time he cuddled me at my request. This was now the cutest I'd ever seen him and I was content just to watch him bask in his happiness.

I still want to bed him though.

--

As we walked back to our rooms after dinner, I stopped [Y/N] at my room. "[Y/N]-ah, wait." When he turned to face me, a smile on his face, I beckoned him with a wave. Tiptoeing to his ear, I whispered, "Shower with me." The look of disbelief on his face made me laugh. "I mean it, [Y/N], shower with me. I'll wait for you~"

Oh, the plans I have for him, and all of it ends with us sleeping together tonight.

Grabbing my towel from my room after untying my tie, I made my way to [Y/N]'s room. As I strided in, I grabbed [Y/N]'s hand, pulling him from his room. "Mina! I haven't picked my clothes yet! Mina!" I smiled at him as I carried on pulling him towards the bathroom. "You won't need those later, darling." Pulling him into the bathroom, I locked the door, then turned and pinned him against the wall, releasing the control I had on my lust for him.

"Mina?! Wha-?!" I forcefully pulled him in for a kiss, before releasing him and smirking. I rubbed his crotch over his shorts, pulling him for another forceful kiss, but this one softer and slower. His hands were also slowly roaming my body, first around my waist, then slowly moving downwards to knead my ass. Fuck, that felt so good…

I broke our second kiss. "Why don't you strip for me, baby?" I smiled, leaning back on the sink. I could see the arousal and fear rise in [Y/N]'s eyes, and as he set his towel down on the rack. I set mine down as well, before turning to him. "No, really. We're showering. Of course we're stripping. I'll strip too."

[Y/N] slowly pulled off his shirt, revealing inch by inch of his solid core muscles, his pectorals, his biceps, triceps… oh my God, he was so fucking hot. I couldn't help but just stare at the new amount of skin in my line of sight, forgetting to take off my clothing too. When he pushed his shorts and briefs down, I watched his hard cock spring out, and a rush of wetness flowed down my pussy. As he looked up at me, he rushed to cover his hard cock, sticking out in front of him. I laughed, before grabbing both his wrists and pulling his hands away. "It's okay [Y/N], it's natural. I'm wet for you too." He groaned, his dick twitching once. "Mina~," he whined, "don't say that! It's embarrassing…" Smiling, I moved closer to him and tiptoed to give him a peck on his lips. "You're so cute, [Y/N]. And… you're so big…" He groaned again, and I kissed him once more. "Fine, fine. I'm gonna strip now."

I could see his eyes darting to me and looking away as I unbuttoned my dress shirt. I'd already untied my tie in my room. He was very embarrassed and quite aroused as he looked at me undressing; the precum was starting to form at the slit on the tip of his red, angry, hard cock. How would that cock feel in my pussy? That thought made a rush of heat fill my loins. I pulled my shirt off, hands moving to unclip my bra, when I heard [Y/N] go, "Wait." He walked over, putting two hands on my arms, and turning me around. "It's awkward standing there… let me." His hands moved up to the clip of the bra. "Can I?"

Oh, he… that was so lovable of him. Beaming at him, I nodded yes. I felt his hands reach the clip, unclipping both ends of the bra. He aided me in removing it from my arms, and I took it off, turning around to show him my bare breasts. He gasped, eyes wide, staring at them, before closing his open mouth, unable to tear his eyes away. I giggled, tilting his chin up. "My eyes are up here, dummy, hehe."

"You're beautiful, Mina. Oh my God." The compliment took me off guard, my hands rushing to cover my face as I whined. "I'm shy~! Don't say that!" He laughed, pulling on my hands, then planting his lips on my forehead. Putting my hands down to the buckle of my belt, I undid my belt, then bent down, sliding both my pants and panties off me. I noticed a wet spot on my panties, and after I pulled the last of my clothing off and stood back upright, I could see [Y/N]'s red face, his eyes roaming my naked body, and his dick twitched once more, making my pussy wetter. "Let's shower, babe," I said, "if we wait any longer I might not be able to hold back." Pulling him into the shower, I turned on the water.

----------

[Y/N's POV - Post Shower]

The shower with Mina was uneventful. We were both kind of self conscious, but we got through the shower, albeit with a few lustful stares at each other, and smirks exchanged each time we caught each other. I could not believe my awfully sexy housemate was naked and showering somewhat comfortably with me. With that said, I was aroused almost all the time, watching a Mina with wet hair and droplets of water drawing streaks down the curves of her chest or the valley in the middle of her breasts, running down her toned core, her creamy thighs, her developed calves, and the worst of all - I'd watch some of the droplets run, and they'd reach her pussy… I had to tear my eyes away. I'd caught her staring at my own fit body too. Her hungry eyes ran over my arms, my chest, my core, down my legs, and every once in a while, right at my hard cock. We'd laugh each time we caught the other, but the sexual tension in the bathroom was so thick. It was clear what we would do post-shower, but I was hoping for something soft and slow, which I'd wanted with her for so long.

As I dried my hair off, I looked at Mina towelling herself off, her hair still wet. Reaching over with my own towel, I wrapped the towel around her head, drying her hair for her. She looked up at me in surprise, and all I could do was smile at how adorable she was. It was funny how a naked woman in front of me was the most adorable creature in the world at the moment, and not the sexiest. After we were dry, Mina smirked, and dragged me by the hand, leading us through the house naked. After hurriedly putting our towels out to dry, she dragged me to her room, giggling to herself as she pushed me onto her bed.

I leaned against the headrest of the bed, my eyes widening at how quick Mina was - she was now crawling towards me seductively, her lust and desire evident in her half-lidded eyes. Mina bit her bottom lips, her plump ass high in the air, her perky breasts swaying left and right as she crawled. My half-erect cock slowly hardened and grew, which Mina took notice of, and giggled. As she got closer, she rose up to straddle me, kneeling above my hard shaft. Lowering herself to meet me eye to eye, she wrapped her arms around my neck, putting her lips close to mine.

"Hi, baby." She smiled, my favourite gummy smile, with her eyes becoming slits. "Hey, Mina," I breathed, mesmerised by the juxtaposition of Mina's adorable smile in front of my face and the awfully sinful body she possessed, exposed to all of my sight. My eyes locked on to her thighs, the thick creamy expanse of skin just begging to be touched and caressed, and then to her breasts, which I'd always dreamed of fondling. Mina watched me check her body out for the umpteenth time, before tilting my chin up to meet her gaze. "Kiss me."

Our lips drew closer, feeling each other's hot breath on the other's lips. When our lips met, Mina seemed to push into me, her hands cradling the back of my head and neck while I loosely wrapped my hands around her shoulders. We exchanged multiple kisses, each of them short pecks, as our hands began to wander. Mina brought one of her hands down to my shoulders, then to my biceps, giving them a squeeze. Her other hand moved down onto my other shoulder, and she broke our latest kiss, staring lovingly into my eyes. "Mommy wants it slow with you, darling. Can you be good for me tonight?"

A whimper broke free from my throat as I nodded in submission, my cock twitching once. Mina being my Mommy was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard in my life, and knowing that I'd be her good boy turned me on so much.

Mina's smile graced her features once more, softening my heart once again. "You've been my good boy these few days, taking all my teasing so well. Tonight, Mommy will reward you with her body." She leaned in to touch her forehead with mine, another giggle reaching my ears. "Enjoy your reward baby." Giving me a final peck, she reached for my cock, giving it a tight squeeze, before gripping it and stroking up and down, her eyes once again lustful. "Does my hand feel good, baby? How does it feel?"

I had moaned at her first touch. Finally, there was some reprieve from the pent-up sexual frustration and tension between us for the past few days. Now, she was finally relieving me of some of the pressure I was feeling because of her. Her dainty fingers wrapped around my shaft, stroking it up and down, sending sparks of pleasure up and down my groin. Even when she was masturbating me, she looked elegant, as if she wasn't indulging herself in sexual activity with her housemate, but instead, playing a musical instrument. As she stroked, she met eyes with me, expecting my answer. "F-fuck, Mommy, your hand feels so good, oh my gosh!" Mina stroked faster, her eyes gleaming with mischief, as she began to talk dirty to me.

"Mommy's been wanting your cock for a long time, baby. Each time I see you shirtless, I've always wanted to jump you and fuck myself senseless on your cock. Sometimes, I want to be under you as you make me your slut, your cum dumpster, and just a hole for you to fuck. Don't you like that, baby? Hearing me beg for your cum, fucking my tight body as and when you like, in any position you want?" Her hand sped up, her words conjuring mental images that took me closer and closer to my release. "Or maybe my mouth. You could be plowing my mouth, dumping your load down my throat. Maybe even my lubed ass, you could be fucking my ass until I squirt all over the bed and my thighs. Do you want Mommy to be your slut, baby? Mommy could just be three holes for you to cum in, baby. Mommy can be your cumslut, your personal toy to cum in, or cum on. How about that, baby?"

The filth from Mina's mouth was easily the hottest string of words to ever grace my ears. I'd wanted Mina for ages, but I'd never expected her to be this dominating. She began to thumb the head of my cock, spreading the precum at the tip all over. "So wet for Mommy, baby. Are you cumming soon? Do you wanna glaze Mommy with your cum? I'll let you cum on me. Take your choice, baby. Do you want to cum on my breasts, my abs? My thighs? My ass, my back? Choose quickly, baby." Her hand stroked harder, and I instinctively exclaimed "Your breasts!"

"Good choice, darling. Cum for Mommy, cover Mommy with your love!" Mina fell back, spreading her legs to let me flush myself to her as I jerked myself to orgasm. My first shot landed all over her right breast, the second landing on the left. The next few shots glazed her sweaty torso, adding to the glistening of her sweat. Mina watched my cock spurt, delight and lust adorning her features, as she watched her baby dirty her body. Her hand thumbed my cock head once more, collecting the stray drips of cum, before she brought the thumb to her lips, licking my semen off it, as if it were some delicacy. Her other hand began to collect the sticky mess all over her torso and chest, scooping it up and pouring it in her mouth. Her tongue swirled in her mouth, mixing the semen with her saliva, before she sat up, opened her mouth to show me my cum, then swallowing it, before showing me her empty mouth. She giggled, before shifting to allow me line of sight to her wet pussy. Mina spread her labia open. The wet sound of the lips separating sent arousal down to my softening dick. Mina noticed that, and smiled. "Take your rest, baby. Come, please Mommy."

I shifted Mina to rest against me, her back leaning against my body. Placing my head near her right shoulder, I began to kiss her nape and towards the shoulder, teasing her a little. I kissed her up and down her neck, breathing on it once in a while, which got her whimpering and shuddering in anticipation and pleasure. My hands wrapped around Mina's body, one snaked around her core to keep her flush to me, the other firmly grasped her breast, kneading it to pleasure her. I was finally touching her body, and I intended to worship it.

Mina turned to me, her neediness and lust evident in her expression and tone. "Darling, don't tease me. Mommy isn't so patient." I caught her lips in a passionate kiss, my tongue sliding against her lower lip for access. When she granted me access, our tongues met, lazily swirling against the other, as we made out with each other. We broke our kiss, panting. "Mommy, please be patient." I gave her a short peck. "I want to worship Mommy's body."

I returned to kneading her breast as I kissed her neck, sucking and biting on certain spots. I fingered her erect nipple, pinching it and circling it, leading her to moan beautifully, the outlet of her pleasure music to my ears. Knowing that what I was doing was pleasing her turned me on so much. My dick flared to life, slowly hardening against her back, growing in size and girth. This did not escape Mina's notice, as she giggled. "Hehe, someone's happy~" I smiled against her ear, whispering, "I can't wait to fuck your pussy, Mommy, but you'll have to wait." Mina shuddered at my breath hitting her, which I filed as a potential spot to focus on.

I switched positions with Mina, letting her lie on the bed. I cradled her head and placed her softly on the pillow, before I straddled her and began to work on her neck once more, marking her neck with hickeys as she moaned at my ministrations on her neck. I bit on her earlobe and sucked, and Mina twitched at the pleasure, a loud moan escaping her lips. She was so fucking sexy moaning like that, and I felt precum flow out of my tip. Furthering my actions on her earlobe, Mina writhed around on the bed in pleasure, moaning a mixture of "Baby", "[Y/N]", or wordless sounds of pleasure. I began to kiss down from her neck, giving her butterfly kisses as I journeyed to her clavicle. I gave her a few kisses on her clavicle, hot openmouthed kisses as I licked the sweat on her pleasured body. The salty taste of her sweat did not bother me; my objective was to worship her body and make her cum with my mouth and fingers.

My journey down her body brought me to the swell of her bosom, her beautiful breasts begging to be pleasured. They heaved with each of Mina's laboured pants, her pert nipples waving in the air, tempting me to suckle and bite down on them. My dick twitched at the thought, precum once again flowing down to reach the tip, a little bit spurting out and dirtying the sheets. Mina's breasts were gorgeous and I could lose myself playing with them if I was left unchecked. I began to kiss down her cleavage, giving each breasts alternating pecks, licking and tonguing her flesh. Her warm body reciprocated earnestly; she writhed in lust, moaning as I kissed up each breast and around her nipples, but not quite touching them. "Mommy, can I…" my question trailed off as Mina looked up and nodded vigorously, silently begging for me to finally touch her sensitive nipples. When my tongue came into contact with her left nipple, my left hand pinched and tugged at her right, leading her hips to buck as pleasure coursed through her veins. "Aaaah~," she moaned, her right hand coming up to grip my hair. I gave her hardened nipple a few sucks, my tongue flicking it up and down, once in a while giving it a soft nibble. My hand carried on pinching and tugging her other nipple, while my other hand, which was supporting myself, reached over to grasp hers and hold it. "Baby, shit, that feels so good, fuck! Mommy feels so good baby, so so good~ aaah, shit~" Mina was enjoying the waves of pleasure crashing against her body. Her body was so warm, her beautiful features depicting the pleasure of the sexual activity she was engaging in.

I released her nipple from my mouth, blowing on it. The contrast of the cool air and the warmth of her body led her to squeak, as I blew on her nipple, then kissed it. Soon enough, I had swapped to her other nipple, suckling and nibbling the right nipple while fondling her left breast. All of this fueled Mina's desperation to finally have some action below. "Baby, fuck, eat Mommy out. Quickly!" I began to journey down towards her pussy, kissing all the way down her torso, her abs, her hip bones, and then down both her thighs. I spread Mina's legs open, my cock twitching at the amount of juices that was leaking out of Mina's pussy. Below where she lay, there was a large wet spot, and I could see how much her pussy glistened and clenched on nothing, as she begged, "Baby, quick!"

Our dynamics had switched, even though I was still calling her Mommy. I enjoyed the rush of power I had, and I began to kiss and lick down Mina's inner thighs, teasing her once more. I kissed down her left thigh, giving it a few licks, as she panted and hissed in pleasure. Doing the same for the other leg, I spared myself a glance at Mina's beautiful pussy. "Please, baby, eat Mommy, please!" Mina was so desperate she was pushing herself towards my mouth. I smiled, blowing on her clit, as she groaned in frustration. Finally, I gave her a lick around her pussy, tasting her juices but not giving her the relief she so craved. "Baby, please~ Ah~!!" I gave her slit one strong lick, gathering her juices all on my tongue, before swallowing what was in my mouth. Returning to her slit, I began to lick and suck on what I could, which was slowly driving Mina wild, as she grabbed my head and forced my mouth towards her pussy. I gave her a few more licks before I decided to push her quicker to the edge by involving my fingers. As I moved to kiss her clit, I began to rub my fingers over the slit, lubricating them for entry. Each kiss or lick on Mina's clit set off her melodic moans, groans, pants, and hisses. Occasionally, she would moan my name and I would double my efforts on her clit, which would set off small gushes of fluid onto my fingers.

"Mommy, can I put my fingers inside?" I looked up at Mina, our eyes meeting. She smiled and nodded, her smiling face quickly changing to one of pleasure as I penetrated her with my middle finger, thrusting in and out. I returned to kiss and suck on her clit, driving Mina crazy. "Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck! That feels so good, aaah~! Oh my, your fingers… fuck!" Deciding to increase her pleasure, I added my ring finger to the mix, continuing my kisses, sucks, and licks on her hard clit. Each time I thrusted in, I curled my fingers, looking for her G-spot. After a few strokes, I heard Mina squealing, "Fuck, baby, there! Right there! Fu- Fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes!" I focused my strokes to aim at that spot, as Mina bucked her hips wildly with each stroke, pushing my head into her crotch. I decided to swap my fingers with my tongue, hearing Mina's disappointment at the withdrawal of my fingers, then a gasp of delight as I stuck my tongue into her delicious pussy. I licked and sucked from her pussy directly, drinking whatever juices she could offer. My wet fingers rubbed around and on her clit, and I could hear her going "Fuck, if you keep that… if- if- aah~ if you keep that going- fuck- I'm going to cum! Fuck!" Mina's filthy mouth only spurred me to work harder on eating her out - I wanted to drink her in literally.

I began to hasten my motions on her clit, and focus on her G-spot, and only that spot, with my tongue. Mina's hips began to buck wildly, her moans and words building to a crescendo. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! [Y/N], baby, fuck! Don't stop, baby, don't stop! Fuck! I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES, YES, YESYESYES- AAAAAAAHHHH~~~!!!!"

Mina squirted. Her juices gushed from her pussy, spraying onto my lips and into my mouth. I wrapped my mouth around her pussy, drinking her squirt in. The sweet taste of her juices flooding my mouth sent my lust for her through the roof. Her hips wildly bucking, the shrill screams resembling a whistle resonating around the room, her orgasming pussy clenching around nothing...

Rising from my position between her legs, I crawled onto the bed, wiping my lips with my hand. "Mina, are you okay?" I caressed her cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Mina nodded, exhausted and high off the post-orgasm afterglow, giving me a beautiful eye smile, meeting my lips for that kiss. We made out again, our tongues swirling around each other lazily, basking in each other's company. Mina smiled at me, kissing my forehead. "There are condoms in the second drawer."

----------

[Mina's POV]

I gave [Y/N]'s hard cock a kiss after putting the condom on him. I rose up to him, giving him a kiss, before pushing him onto the bed and straddling him.

"Thank you for earlier, baby, but now… now you're going to fuck Mommy's pussy until Mommy cums all over your cock and you fill that condom with your seed." I aligned myself with [Y/N]'s cock, slowly sinking down. The tip of [Y/N]'s cock parted my labia, and I began to tease him, rubbing his tip along my pussy lips. He moaned, frustration evident on his face at my teasing. "I know you want to cum, baby. I know you want to fuck Mommy's tight slutty pussy until you fill my hole with cum. However, I call the shots here babe, and I want to see you squirm. This slutty body may be your reward tonight baby, but I'm not such an easy slut. If you please me, baby, I'll make sure you get the full extent of your reward. Ready yourself, babe."

Without warning, I sank down on the entire length of [Y/N]'s cock. I sheathed the entirety of his hard shaft in my naughty pussy, a loud moan erupting from my lips as he stretched my pussy. [Y/N]'s loud "Fuck!" and other curses was indicative enough of the pleasure he felt penetrating me for the first time. I supported myself on [Y/N]'s chest, my teeth gritted at the fullness I felt. Smirking, I cradled [Y/N]'s head, locking eyes with him. "You're not allowed to cum until I'm satisfied. If you cum, I'll make sure, next time, I'll strip you, tie you up, and ruin every orgasm you have. Are we crystal clear, baby?"

"Yes, Mommy." [Y/N] was such a good boy. So obedient, so eager to please. If he kept this up, he'd get to enjoy more of my body next time.

'Pak, pak, pak.' The sound of flesh slapping flesh began to ring around my room as I raised my hips and sank back down, riding [Y/N]'s cock. Moan after moan left my lips, unfiltered. I decided to torture [Y/N] with more dirty talk, just to tempt him into cumming. "How does it feel… ahh~... having Mommy… hff~... fuck your cock, baby? How does it feel- oh, fuck! ...knowing you're Mommy's new toy? Fuck, that feels so good…. You're mine to fuck. Anytime. Anywhere." I could feel myself squeezing his cock harder thinking about how he was now mine to fuck as and when I wanted, and with each time I impaled myself on his cock, he would let out the sexiest moans, his eyes clouded with pleasure and lust for me, tinged with obedience and fear. Halting my actions, I grinded down on him, going in circles as I smiled at [Y/N] gritting his teeth and trying not to blow his load. "You can't come yet, [Y/N]~, not until Mommy's slutty pussy cums on her new favorite toy~."

As I grinded down on him, I leaned over, putting my chest in front of his face. "Suck on the breasts you love, babe. I can tell- ah!" [Y/N] latched on instantly, thrusting up and sucking on my left nipple, fondling my right breast. "Oh my god, fuck, that feels so good! I can tell you've… ahh! You've… fuck, you've wanted this, haven't you, baby? Shit, mmmh~, suck on the tits you love so much, baby. Make Mommy cum." I panted in pleasure as [Y/N] fucked up into my pussy, my hips matching his thrusts. "Fuck Mommy's pussy until Mommy cums. If you make me cum, I'll let you fuck me how you want, and you can finally fill that condom."

[Y/N] kept his thrusts up as he fucked into me hard. I was getting closer and closer to orgasm; his sucking on, paired with occasional biting and pinching of my sensitive nipples sent pleasure all over my body. Sweat dripped down my body, running down my neck and chest, which [Y/N] licked up whenever he decided to attack my neck and breasts with licks and kisses.

"Oh shit, babe. Fuck me just like that! Yes! Right there, yes!" [Y/N] had angled himself under me to hit my G-spot once more, and every thrust he was making was hitting that exact spot. He groaned in pleasure and exertion as he thrusted harder, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brows as he focused on not cumming in the condom once more, pushing himself to ensure I came on his cock.

"Fuck, baby, yes, yes, yes, yes, I'm gonna cum!"

My pussy squeezed down on his cock as I saw white and fell into his embrace. I could feel my back arch, pushing myself towards him, as I trembled and he fucked me through my orgasm, prolonging it.

"Oh, Mommy. Now it's my turn."

----------

[Y/N's POV]

Mina had her orgasm. Now it was my turn.

I flipped us so I was on top of her now, her legs wrapped around my hips. Mina's exhausted eyes stared into mine in surprise, and a devilish grin met her gaze. "Do you know how hard it was fucking you without being able to cum? Now I get to fuck your slutty pussy." I slowly began to thrust once more, Mina moaning at my movements. "Finally. Finally I get to fuck this pussy the way I like it."

I pushed my cock in her pussy ever so slowly, hearing her groan in frustration as I slid in one slow centimeter by one slow centimeter. "Mommy wants it faster, huh? Fine, I'll give you fast." I began to fuck her with quick, hard strokes, of which each was from head to hilt. "Fuck, baby, fuck, your cock feels so good in my pussy, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god, yes, oh my god-" Mina was slowly losing the ability to make coherent sentences as I gave her a hard fucking. Her vocabulary consisted of the phrase "Oh my God", the words "Fuck", "Shit", and "Yes", as well as mindless moans of pleasure.

Catching Mina's lips in a heated kiss, I kept the pace and power of my thrusts even as we made out once more, her arms wrapped around me as I held her head in my hands and arms. She moaned into the kiss, wrapping her legs around my hips as I fucked her pussy with short strokes, chasing my orgasm.

I decided to taunt Mina just as she'd taunted me so many times. "I can feel your pussy clenching around my cock, Mommy. Does this turn you on that much? Knowing that I'm using your slutty pussy just so I can cum? I've wanted you like this for so long, Mommy, under me, being my cockslut. Does my cock feel good, Mommy? Does it feel good being fucked like that? Like you're nothing but a hole for my cock to fill?"

It wasn't long before I exclaimed, "Fuck, Mommy, I'm cumming!" I'd gone beyond the point of no return through both my dirty talk and Mina's reactions to said talk. She'd looked so pleasured and fucked out, and she could only nod and moan at my words, her pussy squeezing my cock as she got more and more aroused hearing my words. Mina had pulled my body flush against hers as she achieved another orgasm, her pussy milking my cock as I felt my balls tighten and my cock pulse, each pulse firing off stream after stream of thick, hot semen. I'd not been able to last long after I'd nearly blown my load multiple times - once when Mina had begun to talk dirty to me, a few times when I'd fucked into her, and the toughest was when she came the first time. Both of us released guttural moans as we orgasmed in each other's embrace, Mina pulling me in tightly, and as I cradled her head and buried myself in her neck.

--

I pulled out of Mina's freshly fucked pussy, my cock easily slipping out of the used condom after. I threw the used condom away, making my way back to the kitchen. Getting 2 cups of water, I returned to Mina's side, placing the cups on her bedside table and pulling her exhausted self up to a sitting position. Mina panted with exhaustion, sweat still running down her body. I ruffled her sweat matted hair, kneeling down to meet her eyes. "Are you okay, Mina? Was I too rough?" Mina gave me a tired eye smile, before shaking her head. "No, baby. It was perfect." She caught me in a slow passionate kiss, conveying what her exhausted brain could not with words. I smiled, offering her a cup of water, which she chugged.

"Come on, babe, let's shower again."

--

As I scrubbed Mina's hair, she softly called "[Y/N]..."

"Yes, Mina?"

"It's Sunday tomorrow…" She poked her fingers together, turning to me with her soapy hair. "I know it's not the right order, but… date tomorrow?"

Oh, my heart. She was pouting and giving me puppy eyes. Puppy eyes! Pouting! Poking her fingers together! She was ADORABLE!!!

I ruffled her hair with my soapy hands, smiling. "Of course, Mina. Date tomorrow." Mina grin equalled that of the power of the Sun, and she "vibrated" excitedly. I brought her into a tight hug, the water running over us.

"Let's finish up and go to bed, Mina."

--

The next morning, I woke up to Mina straddling my body once more. "Oh- uh.. wha-? Good morning, Mina..?"

Oh, she had that glint in her eyes… and she was gripping my morning wood.

"Baby, I see you're happy to see me~" She rubbed up and down the length, pulling it out of my shorts. "Get ready for Round 2, baby~ The date can wait..."

"You're mine until I'm done with you."

--- END ---

[redrobin-detective]

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

[642stories]

Story #50 "The Enigmatic Dr. Scully"

Read it on AO3

She threw him off with her comment about the Bach’s Brandenburg concertos, making him wonder ever since. How could she pick up on a few tunes so effortlessly? They heard them almost in passing. Eerie. Was she holding back on him? Of course, she was. They had been working together for a few months only, still two strangers to each other. It was more like – what else was she holding back on him?

The first time he saw her listening to it she was elbow-deep in a dead body. Literally. Armed with a thin blade of a scalper, Scully was hunched over a male corpse, stretched out on the autopsy table in front of her, scrutinizing its stomach contents.

“Scully?” She paid him zero attention.

Anecdotally as it sounded, Mulder found it almost unbearably painful to stay at the morgue once the autopsy was in full swing. Despite being a trained FBI agent and a profiler no less, having worked alongside all kinds of cadavers – men and women, young and old, often mutilated beyond recognition, witnessing the process of the body dissection was something he could barely handle. As easy and enjoyable – he dared to think – it was for Dana Scully, as daunting it was for him, her partner.

Encased in blue scrubs, Scully worked with meticulous precision to unravel the mystery of unexpected death and then present a detailed account of what had happened to the victim, the validity of her findings unquestionable. Undoubtedly, if the data was in the report from under her hand, it immediately gained the status of unassailable truth. One mystery was solved - Dana Scully excelled in her field of work.  

The irony of their characters wasn’t lost on Mulder – in the dim confines of their office, he was the one who’d be self-absorbed, his partner being a poster child for objectivity and teamwork. Whether it was about ideas he lacked, an errand to run, or just an encouraging comment, she was always there to lend him a hand. She seemed to be a master of how to multitask but not spread herself thin at the same time.

Yet, in “la casa de la muerte”, Scully’s self-absorption used to torpedo everything, outshining Mulder’s most egotistical escapades. Hands operating with small economical movements, eyes flicking back and forth, feet stomping quietly to the rhythm of the music playing quietly in the background. In the grand scheme of things, Dana Scully was a conductor of her own little orchestra, where, under her careful guidance, the body produced a clear sound in any of the existing nine octaves. She could make it sing in soprano or alto, mezzo-soprano or bass. She could adjust its volume from the highest to the cacophony of quiet whimpers. She could create an entirely new concerto herself.

“Whatever floats your boat, Scully,” Mulder thought and never said a word. They didn’t call her an enigmatic doctor Scully for nothing.

Dicing and slicing Scully seemed to be oblivious to the world around her, fully invested in the task at hand, everything becoming one big blur. But every once in a while, her stare would shift, and then her peripheral vision would catch Mulder’s pensive gaze and her face would light up.

Sliding the bloody latex off her hands, Scully reached out to the desk behind and turned off a portable radio.

“Metamorphosis,” he murmured in wonder, his voice the mellifluous sound of the piano echoing around the autopsy bay.

“You know it?”

She was studying him, eyes sparkling with delight.

“I spent a better half of my life in Martha’s Vineyard. Ballroom dancing, etiquette training, classical music lessons, the whole nine yards.”

That was probably the most personal piece of information Mulder shared with her after that night in Bellefleur, and inside Dana Scully was thrilled – indeed, there was so much she had yet to learn about him. Apparently, Mulder wasn’t the only one picking up on clues left all around like breadcrumbs. His partner was as eager to crack a code of Fox Mulder, as he himself with Dana Scully.

“So have you found anything, doc?”

She nodded, a flicker of a smile on her face, and motioned to the body, its chest still open.

“Take a gander, Mulder, but please don’t get sick on me.”

***

It was almost a year later when he heard it again.

Whether it was urgency, boredom, or longing – he wasn’t totally sure himself – Mulder felt compelled to see his partner. Feigning the necessity to go over some of their recent case files on a Friday night, somehow having no doubt she’d still be awake, he called Scully, his suspicions of her sleep habits confirmed. Her casual invitation to come over elated him and simultaneously turned him into a nervous wreck. On one hand he could count the number of times he visited her place for no reason at all.

The first time he had a chance to peek at what was Dana Scully’s abode was during their third case together when he had saved her from Eugene Tooms. He’d helped her clean the mess in the bathroom and had stayed all night through waiting for the locksmith to turn up and fix the door.

They had drunk coffee and eaten pastrami sandwiches in her kitchen and it had been there he’d gathered another little piece to solve the puzzle of Dana Scully. Her fridge had been a stark contrast to his own – full of all kinds of fresh foods. In her kitchen cabinets he had seen nice matching china, so unlike the panoply of chipped old mugs in his own kitchen, which to him where like people coming from all walks of life.

And then there had been photos on the mantel shelf, books on a few bookshelves, and a collection of CDs where Mulder had spotted the Brandenburg concertos and some other fascinating records. Dana Scully had a penchant for classical music.

They had lit a fire in the fireplace and drunk some more coffee, and it had felt like removing another roadblock on the way to building a true partnership. A true friendship.

On his way to Georgetown, Mulder swung by their favorite pizza place and grabbed their all-time choice – topped with mushrooms and peppers on one side for her, and pepperoni and onions on the other for him. The key she gave him at the very beginning of their partnership in case of emergency was burning the side pocket of his coat, and Mulder suddenly felt the flash of possessiveness at the thought of any other men, who could be having it and exercising the prerogative to unlock her door at all hours. As if Scully felt it herself, she gave him the green light to use it, explaining that his phone call had caught her halfway to the shower.

With a pizza box and a pile of documents in one hand, Mulder fished the key out of his pocket and let himself in.

Surprisingly loud chords, like a roll of thunder, greeted him. A melodic passage, raging like an oncoming ague, raucous and jaunty simultaneously, bounced off the walls. Unrestrained under the skillful fingers of a pianist, the music went rogue. There was something about the piano music, the way it sounded - velveteen and taut at once, notes lapping like waves on the shore. He remembered a black giant of the grand piano in Royal Albert Hall - Steinway’s edition with its duet bench, a four-legged upholstered soldier guarding its master. Mulder listened in rapture.

Barefoot, Scully padded across the living room and stood behind his back, and Mulder caught himself thinking that he had been aware of her presence even before she uttered a word - the remnants of her body lotion, sweet and subtle, enveloping the receptors in his nasal passages and the live nerves of his soul.

“Part four.”

She was clad in her typical set of silk pajamas and a matching robe over it, with two glasses of red wine in her hands, offering Mulder one of them. A little smile traveled across his face.

Another day, another Dana Scully, another mystery solved. He had a feeling like that mystery would never be solved completely, and that’s what he loved the most. For him, she had already turned from the enigmatic doctor Scully to his enigmatic Scully.

“I like how Glass takes things to a whole other level here.”

They listened.

***

A few more weeks passed. And some more. A particularly gruesome case landed on their desk leaving them both burnt out and raw. Whatever tactic in catching the perpetrator had been chosen, it proved ineffective, giving Skinner no other option but to ask for Mulder and Scully to step in. In the span of a few days, the situation went from zero to full speed damaging everything and everyone in its way. Eventually, they managed to crack the case and solicit a confession, but with all the victims she had to conduct autopsies on, Scully still felt as if they failed.

She was trying to find comfort in the fact that they had saved some other people - there could have been more women killed, more children orphaned, more husbands widowed. But whenever she attempted to reason with herself, it hit a wall.

Unable to find an outlet to vent out her frustration, she swung between extremes, giving Mulder the silent treatment one day, and snapping over every little thing the other. Of course he tried to offer his sympathy – a more seasoned agent, much more familiar with the field work, he knew how to handle such stuff, but Scully didn’t seem to understand how to dial down her rage. She went spare, and neither she nor her partner had a clue how to take that weight off her shoulders.

That day after work she went to the bar. The voice of the murderer kept playing on a loop in her head, tight and bouncy, like the belly of the last woman he killed - his 8-month pregnant wife. It dripped with the same green acid that was bubbling in her glass burning her larynx and her heart. It left the emptiness so monumental, that it rumbled, echoed, and vibrated all at once, but offered no peace.

“Sorry, I’m a little bummed,” she said somewhat guiltily the next day when the tension between them seemed to reach its peak again.

“That’s a good thing that I’ve grown so fond of you,” Mulder smiled and bumped her side lightly, too self-conscious to put his arm around her shoulders and tug her closer in a friendly hug, but still having a desperate need to touch her.

“Sometimes it comes down upon me. This after-case sadness. I didn’t know that before, but I guess I do now. It will pass. Give it time.”

“Should we tackle it somehow together?”

“What do you mean?” She arched a brow at him.

“I got a little something for you.” Mulder moved towards his desk and pulled out the first drawer. When his hand dove from under the desk, she saw it holding two tickets. Taking a step forward, she narrowed her eyes to read the fine print.

Washington Symphony Orchestra. Symphony #1. Low by Philip Glass.

A tiny smile tugged at her lips.

“Sorry, Metamorphosis isn’t on the schedule this season.”

Scully reached out to take the tickets. There were two of them.

“You could take your mom,” Mulder added hastily, not wanting her to jump to any conclusions. He wasn’t trying to ask her out, was he?

“I could.”

“Or maybe your sister.”

“Melissa will be thrilled.” 

“Doll up and all.”

Scully kept nodding, her smile getting wider with each comment.

“Get that life once in a while, you always talk about, you know.”

She still wasn’t looking at him, but it was clear by the look on her face that she enjoyed the gift, even if she hadn’t expected Mulder to give her something like that. To give her anything. Not in a million years.

“And then get back to you crackpot, albeit brilliant, partner.”

Shutting the drawer, Mulder fell into a chair, opened the first folder his hand found on the blotter, and pretended to read it. 

“Mulder?”

“Mmm?”

“Come with me.”

*

Philip Glass wrote his Metamorphosis in 1988, and the Symphony #1 Low in 1992.

A friend of mine, who read the story, said, “To me, personally, it sounded like Metamorphosis #4, smooth and dynamic, with its own points of climax and release.” And I couldn’t have said it better.