Work Text:
You hate almost everything.
But you don’t hate libraries.
In your opinion, which is the only one that’s worth a shit, they’re probably the best thing your government does with a taxpayer’s money. How are you really gonna piss all over a place that lets people come in and learn? That opens up their eyes to all the bullshit around them? A place people can come to actually get what they need, (other than a bat, a molotov, and most importantly, the fucking balls) to actually start beating down the system around them?
Or, at the current moment, somewhere else you can print off resumes for free?
You’re not actually going to go find a job; you’re not about to sell yourself out to become a corporate slave. Not this day, and not any other day, will you ever become a cog in the machine. But you do need the bullshit, showmanistic piece of paper. The contents of said paper you ripped off a template, and just kinda spliced in your own information where it fit. You need it so you can get your parole officer off your ass. Something to wave in their face and go ‘yeah, see, I’m looking, I’m getting my shit sorted– now would you fuck off?’
One of your pierced ears flicks as the spell-bound type writer in front of you spits out the last bit of your half-assed attempt. Quarter-assed attempt. One third-assed. Fuck. Now you’re thinking about asses.
You snatch the resume up. It’s immediately crushed up into a ball in your fists, just to make it easier to chuck it at the head of stupid son of a bitch you need to go give it to.
You’re walking towards the exit of the building now. At least, you think you are. The New York public library is gigantic. It’s also crawling with people. Fucking hell, do you hate crowds like this when you’re sober. Everyone just stares. It’s like somehow they don’t live in a city teeming with occultists, or people from Ixia, or have literal eldritch monsters living inside the dumpsters just outside their apartments. No, the most interesting thing these people have to see, and stare all wide eyed at during their days, is a guy with a goat head. It’s just plain fuckin’ rude.
Okay, now you realize you are definitely lost. That little moment in your head slipped by, and took with it the map you had worked out in order to get out of this maze. Your fingers squeeze, phantoming a vice grip on your absent bat.
Good lord, do you want to beat the shit out of something. All of this is so goddamn stupid. You could be getting blasted right now, or at a show, or getting blasted at a show. Instead you’re doing all of this bullshit for a fucking power tripping pig who wasn’t even good enough to be a real pig with actual power to trip over. It isn’t even that hard to get a badge in the first place-
A green light flashes out from an open door leading to one of the larger private rooms ahead of you. Then little shrill shrieks, that you’re certain can only belong to children. Your brow quirks. They got a room for torturing kids in here or something?
You walk yourself to the door, both of your scabbed over hands scrunching into tight fists. You’re not sure what the plan is really, but you never really do. When you turn into the room, you find yourself frozen in the doorway.
The screams have turned into excited giggles and laughter from the children sitting comfortably with their parents and guardians. There’s all kinds of families. Humans, Ixian’s, and other anomalies too. There’s even a family of fish people with round bowls over their heads to breathe out of. A guppy is seated on their mothers lap, clapping his finned hands together excitedly at the show in front of him.
Speaking of which.
In the middle of the large round room is a young woman with a mess of bouncing ginger curls, animatedly raising her hands. With each movement, she’s conjuring an entire scene made from green light. Right now, there’s a gigantic girl clothed in a apon-clad dress made of that same prismatic emerald glow. The illusion is peering down inquisitively at a small potion bottle on a table in front of her. The families watch in awe from lecture booths that encircle the room.
“And? What should Alice do? Should she drink the bottle and see what happens to her next?” the woman asks, motioning out to the audience with a hand. The children all rush to speak, a medley of giddy yeses and hesitant nos in the air.
The occultist waits a moment. She smirks. Then the book on the floor in front of her flips itself to the next page. Alice, the projection from the woman’s hands, reaches down. She shoots the potion back like a shot of cheap whiskey. The kids both laugh and shriek again as she begins to shrink. You’ve heard of her ability before. It’s bilbomancy, or some fancy shit like that.
“Oh, and there she goes!” the woman laughs, and the sound is so sugary sweet you feel it in your teeth, and your jaw clenches.
You can’t take your eyes off her. Your rectangular pupils are darting all over, from her smile, to her red hair, then over that stupid turtle neck that’s trying, and failing, to hide the curve of her full chest. They travel down next, tracing the hem of her skirt. You drink in what’s exposed of her thighs, especially where her thick socks pinch against the plump flesh. Your eyes catch themselves and shoot back up to her face. Then there you are, admiring the forest green behind those ridiculously huge and round frames on her soft face. She’s just, well, beautiful— and you feel so corny.
Fuck.
You realize she’s paused the show. She’s staring right back at you. That’s why you can see her eyes so goddamn well.
Double fuck.
You had been leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest. The pause was just a second or so long, but it felt like an eternity. A few adults in the room swivel their heads around to see what she had been so interested in, but you’re already gone.
You don’t let yourself come back. Well, you don’t let yourself come back for a week. You come back the week following the one you avoided on the same day, because you can’t stop thinking about her. Like, every night. Before bed. In the shower. For breakfast. Sometimes even while you’re inside of someone you don’t know the name of, and you’re wondering what her’s is instead.
You’re at the back of the room this time, against the wall, quiet as a mouse. You only let yourself catch the tail end of her reading. Does she do this shit just for fun? Comes in and reads to a bunch of poor kids with her powers, just because she knows it’ll make their day?
It almost pisses you off. It’s like she’s some sort of angel. She looks the part, doesn’t she? It only just barely doesn’t piss you off, because it pulls on your heart strings in a way that pretty much nothing else can. Wait, no, that does piss you off. It pisses you off way more.
Your ears flutter, and you palm the inside of your jacket for your pack of smokes as you turn to walk out. In the corner of your vision, you catch how her eyes trail over you after you turn to leave.
You come again next week. You get a smile that time. One aimed right at you– for you.
Time drags on until yet another week passes, and you find yourself there for the third Sunday afternoon in a row. It’s almost been a whole month of letting yourself steal away a little peek at her, before you drag yourself out of that room and try to stop seeing orange and green everywhere else you go.
This time, you miss pretty much the entire thing. You only really get a dying twinkle of that green light, but you don’t care. It’s never been about the show, you couldn’t give less of a fuck about Jack and his big-ass Beanstalk. People are already leaving the room as you’re entering, and you have half a mind to turn yourself around and follow them out.
But you don’t.
You don’t because this time, she doesn’t let you just disappear.
“Big fan of children's literature, Billy?” she asks with a smile, right behind you.
“Huh?” you’re so taken back by her speaking to you, and knowing your name that you fucking blank.
She giggles to herself, soft and sweet and just fucking horrible. It’s horrible what that sound does to you. The fur along the top half on your spine bristles.
“…How the fuck do you know who I am?” your eyes narrow, and you turn towards her, hands in your jacket’s pockets.
The ginger’s eyes widen, and you watch as her freckled face ignites in real time.
“O-oh, uhm, well. I… I’ve heard about you a few times over the radio. In my room. While I’m reading? Y’know, the general… erm, activities you’re sometimes a part of, like that bodega on Barrow Street?” she shifts, arms crossing underneath her heavy chest. It takes a whole lot of willpower to pry your eyes away.
You suck your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You may have burnt that place down, maybe. It’s also not surprising that she knows who you are, if that were, in fact, the case. You also look the way you do- not hard for someone to remember your description if they heard it on a news radio.
"Shit- alright, that wasn’t what it looked like. They had a whole ring of crooked stuff happenin’ in the basement, and I just did what needed to be fuckin’ done-”
She interrupts you, adjusting her glasses with gentle fingers. “No, I uh. I heard about that part, too.”
“...Right,” you can’t help but look a little shocked.
“I’m not saying I support arson, or honestly anything even remotely in the nature of that realm, but…”
You take a step closer, casting your shadow over her short form. The room is empty now. It’s just you two.
“But what?” your voice isn’t angry. It’s probing, curious, and a little breathless. A part of you can’t believe you're finally talking to her.
She chews on her words for a moment. You’re close enough that you can smell her. Your head came with a few extra perks you never signed up for, like being able to notice weird shit like this. She smells like tea. Black tea, laced with cinnamon and honey. It clings to her like a perfume. There’s something else underneath it. Deeper, but still sweet. It’s coming from under her skirt. You feel your core tighten.
She’s fucking turned on.
“Actually, I don’t… " She tightens her arms around herself, laughing uneasily, "I don't really know where I was going with that."
She extends a hand, and you feel your heart starting to pound in your chest.
“My name is Paige. That’s probably where I should have started, huh?” she’s smiling, even if the expression is painfully, terribly, obviously nervous.
You stare.
“Does this door lock?” you point with a shrug of one shoulder to the door beside you.
Paige's eyes blow wide. “What?”
“Does. This door. Lock,” you repeat, reaching your hand out to it.
She stiffens.
Her hand beats yours to the wood, and snaps the lock on it shut.
“Fuck,” you breathe.
Paige nods her head, silent. Her face is turning that same tomato red again, and you can smell more of that mouth-watering scent in the small space between you.
You need to eat her alive.
You close the gap between the two of you, and hoist Paige off the ground, earning a yelp from the woman. She's slotted against your chest and waist, your calloused hands holding the soft round of her ass. Her breath hitches as your fingers knead into the flesh. You’re burying your face against her neck, into the fabric there, huffing against it while you finally take her in. She’s like heaven.
“Oh my god, wait- ” Paige braces her hands against your shoulders as you carry her towards the desk at the center of the room, “Wait!”
You pause. One of your brows arches as you look her face over. You can smell how hot she is for this. What’s the problem?
“This- this is a library! We can’t do this here!”
Ahhh, so that’s it. Ain’t that cute. You roll your eyes, a smirk sliding across your lips.
“Then make sure you stay fuckin’ quiet,” you whisper, pressing your fingers harder into her freckled skin. She whimpers, green eyes fluttering behind her glasses.
“I work here, Billy…” her fingers curl into your jacket, her face somehow even more flushed now. That smell, god that fucking smell is so rich it’s starting to drown out all your other senses.
“Then make sure you stay real fuckin’ quiet, toots,” you set her down on the desk, and begin to slip your jacket off your shoulders. You pepper kisses on her collarbones through her sweater, then her neck, and your breath is already heavy.
Paige’s fingers slide into your fur, gently gliding them up through it until one hand decides to curl around your ear and massage. You hum out a moan, and your leg kicks hard off of reflex. Paige pauses, and so do you. She looks a little bit astonished. You’re a little bit mortified. Fuck this fucking goddamn goat head.
“Oh, that is…so cute,” she breathes, grinning.
“Oh no, don’t fuckin’ start that shit- ” you’re cut off by her lips meeting your own.
Oh. Your eyes are wide.
So she’s actually into the goddamn goat head. Most people avoid it.
It takes you a second to kiss back, still kinda working on processing that realization. When you do come back into the moment, you kiss her back hard. You lean yourself over her, a hand cupping her face, the other gripping into her thigh. You two keep going, only breaking apart for a rushed breath, or a moan, then coming back again and letting your tongues get involved. Fuck, you actually can’t remember the last time you kissed someone like this. You’re not sure you’d let anyone but her kiss you like this.
It’s nice, yeah, it’s really nice, but your hands get moving again and find their way to her hips. You squeeze, she hums, you slide them up, firm on her soft form, and then you start to peel up that turtleneck up from her stomach. One of her hands is on your wrist, holding it, but not pushing you away. She’s squeezing you like she’s nervous.
You don’t know why the fuck she would be nervous about what you’re looking down at now. Her tits are so fucking perfect, and they’re even dusted with freckles just like her face. She’s perfect. You're not sure how the lace detailing along the top of the bra she’s got on, which is desperately trying to contain all of her, hasn’t snapped from the task yet. Your core is rolling over itself with molten heat.
Paige opens her mouth to say something, but you click your tongue at her, and then get that tongue in her mouth again. She whines into the kiss, eyes slipping shut, and suckles on you in a way that is so good, and you know you’re going to be thinking about doing this with her for another month. Maybe longer. Definitely longer.
You pull down on the top half of her bra and Paige squeaks into your mouth. Her chest spills out from the fabric, and your hands are on her again, ready to start cupping and kneading whatever they can fit into their palms. She snaps her mouth away from yours with a gasp as you catch one of her nipples in between your fingers, and she bites down on the side of her hand that she’s curled into a fist and brought up to her face.
You roll the pink bud between your polish-chipped digits, chuckling under your breath. She thinks that’s going to be enough to keep her quiet?
You lean down, carrying a smirk with you. Your tongue slips out over what you’ve caught of her, the ball of your piercing teasing over the sensitive flesh. Paige bites harder, and you hear a moan get suffocated against her hand. It’s pure fucking fuel to keep going, better than gasoline– those stifled noises are hitting you like nitroglycerin. You need more. You wanna see exactly what you can do to the exemplary young woman you have sitting above you. So you do, you take what you had been teasing into your mouth fully, sucking hard, flirting the flesh against your teeth, all while your other hand tugs and twists the bud your mouth can’t. She squeals, and you can hear the wetness of her mouth against the place of solace she’s found on the side of her hand. You bite. She moves her hand away from her lips and grabs the fur between your horns. You pull with your teeth. The moan you force out of her is almost a scream.
So she likes it a little rough. Just when you thought she couldn’t get any more perfect. You always figured she’d want it sweet, or that you’d have to take your time to get this out of her. That you’d have to coax your little saint into admitting she wanted it like a slut. This is so much better. Sooooo much fucking better.
You bite again, then suckle to soothe away the pain, all while your other hand is pulling and kneading so hard you’re pretty positive you’re going to leave her bruised. She’s moaning, noise spilling from her like it’s been locked away for an impossible amount of time. She's also starting to grind what she can of herself against the wood underneath her skirt. You let out your own groan at the sight, loud and wet around what you have in your mouth. Your cock is pulsing in your pants, full mast and pinched against your leg. It’s fucking aching, and as much as you want to keep teasing, to keep seeing her slowly give up the angelic visage she’s hiding behind, you have a better idea.
It’s going to be so much hotter to watch her fall apart with the hilt of yourself buried so deep inside her that you might end up giving her a kid of her own to read to.
You pull off of her, and Paige takes a moment to gather herself, panting hard. She’s gripping the front of the desk, staring up at you. There’s spit on her chin. God, she looks so fucking good like this.
You’re pretty positive you can make her look even better, though. Back to your idea, then.
Your hands hook under her knees, and you push her back, raising her legs and spreading her out in front of you. She squeaks again, and you feel the muscles in her thick thighs stiffen.
“W-wait, wait!”
You actually sigh. What the fuck is it now?
“Jesus H. Christ, no one’s gonna catch us, dollface. Relax,” you roll your eyes.
“No, that’s- ugh, that’s not it! Would you just listen to me?”
You look down between her legs. There’s a print in her panties that you’re…
Ohhhh.
“You didn’t give me a chance to try and explain-” Paige looks absolutely panicked, and she’s sitting herself up on her elbows. One of her hands shoots down, hiding away what she’s got going on down there with an iron grip on the hem of her skirt.
You blink.
“You think I give a shit?” the words leave your mouth without a second thought.
Paige blinks herself now.
“I… I guess I did. I definitely thought you did? You’re… you’re not…?” she trails off, like she’s not even sure how to bridge into the subject herself.
“Ruler straight? No, I ain’t. You really think I’m gonna let myself exist on the narrow line of conformist sexual conduct? Especially the most fuckin’ stock standard, cookie cutter option?” you tilt your head at her.
Paige looks… a little bit more upset. Like that wasn’t entirely what she meant to say, and not what she meant for you to interpret.
It clicks.
“Oh, sweetheart, come on. I mean I’m not bothered by your dick. The chick I see laid out in front of me is top shelf woman, and with the added perk that I can fuck her as much as I like, raw as I like, and not end up with an actual little brat yankin’ on my horns?”
Now she looks stunned.
You huff, and lean yourself over her. You press a kiss to her cheek.
“You really think I’m gonna pass you up?" you ask, bringing your head over hers. "For that, or any other reason?"
Paige bites down on her bottom lip. You slide a thumb over the flushed pink of the one above, cupping her face.
“Now, we good, or what?” you hold her gaze. The forested one you’re pretty sure you might be falling in love with. Or maybe you fell in love with it a few weeks ago. Fuck it, who cares for the semantics.
“...Uh-huh,” she manages, nodding her head. She’s looking at you, but the twinkle in her eyes is something you recognize as bewilderment more than anything else.
“That’s not real enthusiastic, babe,” you tilt your head again. Your thumb strokes over her cheek.
“Oh my god,” Paige puffs up her cheeks, and then she’s kissing you again and wrapping her legs around your waist and oh, fucking fuck yes.
You kiss back, and slide her hips towards you on the desk. One of your hands snakes down and pulls her panties to the side. Your touch is a little gentler now, a little more cautious. You’re not sure how she’s going to react to you pawing the part of herself she seems to have such a problem with. The motion you choose to take is slow. You use your thumb, dragging it up the soft skin of her short length, pressing just enough to make sure she understands it’s something you’re interested in getting to know. Her breath hitches, but there’s no retort. She doesn’t pull away, her legs don’t snap shut, nothing. She’s surrendered to you.
You wrap your fingers around her properly, and Paige covers her freckled face with an arm. She’s biting her lip. You pump your hand slowly, and she bites harder, trying to stifle any noise. You speed up. She squeaks, her throat bobs, and you hold a little tighter, you go a little faster.
“You back to playing the quiet game down there?” you’re grinning, bent over her form on the desk.
Paige nods her head, an eye peeking out from under her arm. She looks a little pissed, but her hips are twitching and bucking into your hand. You figure she’s a little pissed you’re making her feel so good. She knows you’re only just getting started, right?
You glide your free hand up her body, and over her plump skin. Your fingers wrap around her throat briefly, and gently, and you linger there, eyes on hers. You watch her reaction with a smirk for just a beat, and then your hand continues to ascend. It rises until it’s finally holding the shape of her chin. Two of your fingers press up against her lips. You don’t even have to say anything. She opens up and allows you to sink them into the heat of her mouth. Her lips close around what they’re being fed. You feel her tongue begin to slide over the digits, soaking them in just what you were looking for.
Fucking hell.
You can only imagine what that would feel like around your dick. You make a note to yourself that if this ever happens again, which you’re praying it will, that you’re going to fill her little throat until she's even more red and flushed than she is right now.
She’s sucking them, nice and firm, and she’s moved her arm away so that she can look at you while she does so.
“That’s it,” your voice is a purr, “Should have figured you’d know what you were doin’ with your mouth.”
You feel her teeth clamp on your fingers. You don’t even flinch. Still, you pull your fingers away and drape one of her legs over your shoulder. You slow your hand down. You’re smirking again.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paige huffs, sitting herself up on her elbows once more.
“I ‘dunno, what do you think it’s supposed to mean?” you sneer. You want to see what’ll happen. You want to push her, and you want to see if she’ll push back.
“I-” her voice cuts out at you slide your spit-covered fingers against her hole, “Oh, fuck, I don’t know- ah!” she sets herself back down as you prod one of them against her rim. You can see her still trying to look angry, but she’s biting on her lip, and her eyes keep fluttering. She’s even still grinding into your hand that’s loose around her supple length.
“Oh, c’mon- really seemed like you had something to say to me there,” you’re still smirking. Paige groans, frustrated, and out of breath underneath you.
“I don’t- mn!” you purposefully slide the first bit of one of your finger in now, to make her stumble, and she’s singing out a moan for you properly, “I, ah, don’t- I don’t…”
“You don’t what, gorgeous? I’m havin’ a hard time understandin’ you," You sink the digit deeper, cock throbbing with envy. She’s so tight even around just a single finger.
Paige whines, bucking her hips hard into your hands.
“Augh, I-I, okay, I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I’m some sort of slut! I just, mmn, I just read a lot of novels that happen to be in this sort of genre!”
You snort. Then you laugh, throaty and loud. You didn’t actually expect her to come out and say the word. Or that she would willingly admit to reading porn. Or better yet, that she knows what she’s the kind of dork who reads her porn. Christ, there’s a lot to laugh at here. She’s the kind of girl you’d think would wash her mouth every time she swore, or maybe even wore an actual, genuine chasity belt. Thank God she isn’t, and that she’s much more fortunately the kind of girl you’re fingering in a library. A library she works at, no less.
Paige grabs your wrist, frowning at you. You still both of your hands. Maybe not the best time for laughing, actually.
“...I don’t think you’re a slut,” your voice is low as you lean over her, “Even if you’re kinda enjoying being treated like one,” your finger begins to move again, pushing itself deeper inside of her, “I can make the distinction, pidge.”
You bring your face to hers. She’s still red, some of it from anger, and her fingers are tight around your wrist. But she’s moving her hips right back into you, and you can see how wide her pupils have blown. You can smell how much she likes you talking to her like this.
She opens her mouth, and you unceremoniously push your other finger into her hole just to cut her off, just to fuck with her a little bit more. Her words get lost in a loud squeak, and her legs shake around you. You don’t slow down or stop this time. You pump your hand over her dick faster, squeeze her shaft harder. Her head lulls back. You spread your fingers apart in her hole. She groans. You roll the tips of your fingers against the bump of nerves you know is gonna make her want to cum for you. By then, Paige is nothing but moans, pants, and half muttered curses.
You can’t even begin to count how many times you’ve pictured her like this. She grabs onto the base of one of your horns, and good lord, she’s still trying to glare at you even as she’s doing all of that under you. What a woman.
“You can tell me you like being a slut,” you pant, working her just a little bit faster, “Actually, I 'kinda wanna hear you say you like it.”
“Fuckkk,” Paige grits her teeth, shaking her head.
“Uh-huh,” you tease, leaning your form further down, so you bring one of her nipples into your mouth again. This earns another moan, louder than the rest, and you think you’ve found exactly what you need here to push her right over the edge.
You suckle, rolling the bead of your piercing against her all the while. She’s gripping your fur again. Hard. It stings, and you know the pain is on purpose. She might just be pissed, she might be even more pissed that you called her out on just what she likes, and she also might just be trying to egg you on. You’re more than fine with any of those options.
You slip your fingers out of her, and Paige whines pathetically. Her hips buck out towards your hand. You spit down at it, and you feel her fingers soften in your fur. You bring your mouth to her other nipple, the one you haven’t left quite as swollen yet. You catch it, bite it, her breath snaps, and then you're slipping three fingers inside of her. She shrieks. You pump your hand around her again, fast as you can manage, and move your fingers at just the same speed. You’ve already figured out she likes the sting, and yeah, she’s screaming, moaning, you hear her call out your name and oh fuck, this is actually kind of really loud.
You wanna make sure she’s thinking about you after this for the right reasons, and that is definitely not going to be the case if you two actually get caught. Your lips come off her with a pop, leaving a red bruise behind, and you stamp your mouth over her own to try and get her to quiet the hell down.
She shakes. Her arms loop around your shoulders and her fingers dig into the thick fur there. She’s trying to say something against your lips. You push your tongue past them, and just enjoy how she tastes– how the vibrations of her moans feel as they cross into your own mouth. You don’t stop moving your hands. You don’t stop rolling your fingers over that special little spot inside of her.
There’s something warm on your wrist. Then your arm. Paige is still shaking, and she’s sucking your tongue like she needs it to live. You kiss back, wrap your tongue with hers a few times, then pull away to inspect the white she just left on you.
“Damn,” your eyes flicker away from your hand, and their gaze crawls over her.
You admire the mess you just made of the woman you’ve been crushing on– the one you’ve been fantasizing about every day since the first time you saw her. You don’t think you’ve even had a crush before her. Not that you can remember, anyways. Your usual dance is just to let a stranger know that you want them right then and there; and then it’s over one way or another. This whole thing you’ve been doing, it’s new, and looking down at her fills you with a sort of satisfaction you never want to give up.
Regardless, you actually just did that. She’s laying back on her desk, chest heaving, and you still have your fingers inside of her. You did that to her. She looks up at you, arching a brow behind her glasses. You realize you spoke.
“...You, uh, just look beautiful,” you say, pulling your fingers out of her carefully. “Don’t really think there’s much else to say but a solid ‘damn’, y’know?”
Paige smiles, and reaches her hands out to you. Her face is still flushed, her eyes are twinkling, and fuck; you think you just felt your heart flip. You’re thankful you don’t have a tail, because you just know it would be wagging itself like an overly excited, victorious flag on your ass. You don’t hesitate to drape yourself over her, hands on either side of her head. She kisses at your cheek, and strokes her thumb over the other one. You turn to peck at her knuckles. Yeah, you didn’t finish yourself, but fuck it. That was enough. Having her like this, looking up at you the way she is…
Fuck, it might be more than enough.
“So, we doin’ this next week or-” your eyes widen. She’s grabbing your dick through your pants.
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” Paige whispers, smirking.
You’ve never considered marriage seriously until this moment.
You feel her fingers hook into the hem of your pants. You shift your hips a little bit closer to her so she can have the honour of tugging you blissfully free from them.
Then you freeze.
“Uh, wait, hold up-” the words sputter out of you a little too late, because Paige has already pulled your pants down and yup, your cock is out. You suck your teeth, and take a step back. May as well let her get a good look.
You’re still hard, but that’s not really what you were worried about. What you were worried about was the stunned look that’s currently on Paige’s face. The differences between you and a normal dude don’t exactly start and end at your head. You’re hung, but that was the case even before all this bullshit. Now you’re just really hung, like a few inches off of being completely unfuckable. It’s also, well, at least it matches your head. It’s huge, blushing bright pink in a way that makes up for the permanent lack of a blush on your face, and flared at the end.
You nod your head a few times, sighing. Paige still hasn’t said anything.
“Yeah, that’s my dick– now are ‘ya gonna keep staring, or do we need to have a conversation about it?” you cross your arms over your chest.
Normally, you’d abandon the situation entirely by now, or you’re so drunk you don’t have the ability to care.
This is kind of brutal. You’re not about to leave her on that desk after all this time, you’re stone cold sober, and you care so much it already hurts a little. You care about what she’s gonna think of that part of you in front of her, and if she doesn’t like it, well, at least you can get really drunk. Like, you won’t remember her at all, kinds of drunk. It’s gonna take a swimming pool of booze, but you’ll manage. Maybe.
She shakes her head. Her eyes are wide, and your nose twitches.
She sits herself up, and her hands slide across your hip bones. You go stiff as a board. Paige slides herself off the desk. You can smell that she’s still into this, but in the back of your mind you’re still kind of freaking out. Maybe she actually isn’t into it, maybe you’re just picking up residuals, maybe she’s just being polite and dealing with it because you just did all of that for her, Jesus maybe you should stop her-
Oh, fucking good god she’s kissing you. She’s kissing your dick, to be more specific. When the hell did she get on her knees?
You’re peering down at her with nervous eyes. Her hands wrap around you. Her tongue glides over the ridges of the flared tip, and your breath catches. Your fingers slide into her ginger hair, and–
“Fuck,” she’s wrapping her mouth around you.
“O-okay, alright, shit, I didn’t think you’d-” you feel her moan as her lips start to suction. Any and all words you had fizzle out on your tongue.
You bend forward, bracing yourself with a hand on the desk. She’s taking in more of you, and your whole body shudders. You crane your neck to get a better look at her under you. Paige has managed to swallow down your head, and a little bit extra into her mouth. You doubt any more of it is gonna fit, ten inches and thick is, yeah, ten inches and thick. She’s sucking, and you can see how full her cheeks are with your cock pressed flushed against them inside of her mouth.
You can feel her tongue swiping itself over what it can reach of the bottom side. Then, her hands are sliding over your length properly, up and down, perfectly firm, and what the fuck– can books actually teach someone to suck dick like this?
Your hand tightens its grip in her hair. You’re being greedy, you know you are, but her mouth feels so good and you can’t fucking help yourself. You move your hips forward, and Paige groans around you. The sound shakes into your length. Fuck, that’s just the ticket. You do it again. She doesn’t pull her head back, even if this time you hear her choke.
Your hand slips forward, curling into a fist around her ponytail. You keep moving your hips, forcing maybe another half inch or so into her mouth with each thrust. You continue until the tip of your shaft juts up against the wall of her throat. You’re panting. The contact makes you pull on her hair even harder. You want to force further down, ignore where that bullshit bend of her mouth is, and make her tiny throat a proper hole in the process. Unfortunately, you already hear her taking in labored breaths through her nose. You’ll break her if you do. You can hear her gagging through the other wet sounds of you working yourself into her mouth. It’s getting louder and louder.
“Shit,” you hiss out a breath. You move the hand you had on the desk back down, needing a new spot to grip. You need something to keep you steady, and remind you why you can’t just fuck yourself stupid into the little angel already choking on you. That spot, you decide, is around her throat.
Paige cries out an appreciative moan, and you nod your head weakly in agreement.
“Good girl," you mutter, eyes half-lidded, “That’s my good fuckin' girl...”
You’re still moving your hips, and she’s bracing herself with her hands on your thighs. She’s mewling out around you with each stroke, the sound coated over with the spit that’s starting to pool over her lips and drip down her chin. You feel the first few failed contractions of her attempts to swallow down what saliva is still inside her mouth, trying not to suffocate on both it and you. Her throat finally cinches properly, and you groan, hand instinctively squeezing harder on her neck, forcing the vice even tighter.
Fuck, you’re gonna cum if you don’t pull her lips off of you.
“Paige, babe, mn- I need a sec,” you tug on her ponytail. She doesn’t stop sucking. Her hands don’t stop moving. Holyyy shit, you did not think you’d be the one tapping out of this first.
“Paige,” your eyes shoot wide, and you can feel your core starting to ripple. She still doesn’t stop. One of her hands comes to hold over your own on her throat, pushing it into her skin, urging you to keep squeezing. You do. You squeeze her so hard the only sound she can manage is a disgusting little squeal out through her nose.
Your abdomen ripples. It’s flooding with heat, and you force Paige to stay still with both the hand on her throat, and the one in her hair. You buck and twitch, groaning out through gritted teeth. You hear the sound of her trying to drink down what you’re giving her with a desperate choke. God, that is music to your ears. It’s so fucking hot and- oh shit, you’re going to make her pass out if you don’t get her off of you.
You pull your hips back, and Paige gags as her throat is freed. She’s coughing. Her face is a mess. There’s tears in her eyes, a mixture of saliva and seed on her chin and down her neck. You’re still cumming. It’s a terrible move, you know it is, the last bit of this has been a little bit more than just a little bit selfish. You start stroking yourself. You hold her head up by her hair and let ropes of milky-white spray across her face. She’s looking up at you hazy eyed as it happens, still catching her breath. She doesn’t even flinch as you shoot onto her glasses. You aim the very last of it at her bruised chest, pumping even harder, moaning out from the sight.
She kinda looks like if you let go of her hair she’s going to topple over. Your chest is heaving. Then you realize what the fuck you just did to her, and your brain turns back on.
“H-hey,” your stomach drops, “You alright?” you knew that was too far. Did you just give her fucking brain damage?
Paige nods her head, and then she’s smiling. No, she’s grinning and licking her lips, and she’s got your dick in her hand again. She strokes it.
What the fuck.
“Is that all you got for me, Mr. Tumnus?” she asks, looking your half-limp length over. You feel your heart stop.
Yeah. Yeah, of course she’s a freak. Like, full blown, succubus, freak. Why wouldn’t she be? Why wouldn’t the librarian you’ve been losing sleep over be that? Who the fuck is Mr. Tumnus?
You’re silent. Paige looks up at you, then shrinks into herself a little bit. You see her adjust her glasses, and the look on her face says she’s deeply, deeply, regretting asking you that. Maybe more than just that. It’s insane. You just watched her guzzle down your spunk, get covered in it, and now she’s retreating back into the shape of a shy, virgin, little bookworm.
You decide right then, not only would you marry this girl, you’d even go get a job if she asked you to.
“Uhm,” Paige stands herself up, “Should, I uh, s-should I go? I mean this is sort of my room, or like, my office, really, but I could go, I should probably go, huh-”
You take a step forward. Paige takes one back. She’s up against the desk again. You grab her arms and turn her around, she squeals, and then you push her chest down against mahogany. You keep your hand on her, pinning her. You tilt your head back with a sigh.
“Oh, you’re not goin’ anywhere,” you fold her arms across her back one at a time, she doesn’t resist the positioning at all, and then you grip around both of her wrists with a rough hand, “Is that all I got for you? Babe, we’re just gettin’ started.”
Paige twists her head, looking up at you with shaking pupils. You think… out of all this time you’ve spent in this room, right now she smells the heaviest of arousal.
You know you’re right, and that she really is loving this when she spreads her legs apart. You decide to keep this going, to keep playing up the way you’ve noticed her getting especially wound up for you. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t doing the exact same thing for you.
“You remember what I was saying before?” your free hand wipes itself across her mouth and chin, gathering up the mess you left there.
Paige’s eyes narrow. Her thighs snap together. Jesus, not the slut thing again. For someone about to get plowed on her desk, she sure is touchy about sanctity.
“No, not that,” you tug on her wrists, slotting your leg in between her own two, “I meant the part where I said I could fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck you,” you force her legs apart with your knee, “Hard as I want, when I want, and uh... not have to worry about getting you knocked up?”
She’s already panting again.
“Is that ringin’ any bells?” you reach down to her hole, spreading the remnants of what you just did to her throat over top of it. Then you’re pressing into it, with two fingers again, and Paige’s back shoots up into an arc. You force it right back down with a flex of your arm. She moans against stained wood, muscle tightening around your two intrusions.
“I asked you a question, pidge,” you whisper, leaning yourself over top of her. You let your cock slide over the cleft of her round ass in the process, and you give her wrists another tug. You can’t believe how hard you are again. It’s just talking to her like this that’s driving you insane, having her under you and knowing that’s exactly where she wants to be. You might be the luckiest man in this entire shithole city.
“I remember,” Paige huffs, “Please, just- eek!” She snaps her eyes shut as you pump your fingers a few times, and then just caves into a stream of whimpers and other breathy, perfectly pathetic sounds. You pull your fingers back out.
“Be more specific,” you line yourself up with her, then take a moment to knead her ass in your hand, “You remember what, exactly?”
Paige’s face is that beautiful shade of red again. She’s looking back at you, face pressed into wood, glasses half on, brows pinched.
“I remember you saying that you’ll fuck me, and fuck, and fuck me,” she’s gritting her teeth, “Now would you please just-” her words are cut off by a scream, because you’re bucking yourself into her. You clasp your hand down around her mouth, pulling her whole body up by her arms so that her ear is at your mouth, and her back is flush against your chest.
“Inside voice, babe. You forget we’re in a goddamn library?” you’re pressing your fingers against her lips again. She opens her mouth up with a breathless cry, and you shove them in as far in as they’ll fit.
You buck again. Sink maybe a little less than half of yourself into her. Paige’s tongue runs over your fingers. You give her a moment to adjust, kissing her cheek and chin. You taste salt on your lips. You pause.
She’s crying, and you pull your fingers out of her mouth instantly.
“You good, baby?” you whisper, concern softening up your eyes. Your hand loosens on her wrists, and you lower her down gently onto the wood.
Paige presses her ass into you. Another inch or two of you disappears inside of her. She’s hissing out a breath, another tear rolling down her face. Your legs almost give out, and you have to grip onto the desk again.
“So good,” she nods against the desk, “Holy shit…”
It’s taking most of what you’ve got to not keel over. What’s happening between your hips and her ass is maybe the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You lean yourself back, choosing to switch from holding onto the desk in favour holding onto the ass of the woman who is actually fucking herself down onto your cock. You’ve slept with a lot of people, sure, but you’re not sure you’ve ever had someone this enthusiastic. She stops every half inch or so just to swallow in a breath, then pushes herself back down again, and you don’t even know how to describe the noises she’s making. Moans, yeah, but like, the kind with barely any breath between them. It’s just pure, blissfully fulfilled, unfiltered, carnal ecstasy.
For once in your life, you’re actually speechless. You’re just watching her take inch after inch of you, and all you can really do is pant, keep yourself steady, and knead her ass as her hole stretches itself wider, and wider. She’s nearly at the base of you.
“Fuck,” it’s her voice cursing this time, and she’s looking up at you, tears still streaming down her face, “Fucking… nhmn- I can’t make the rest go in…” she’s whining out the words.
You look back down to where you two are meeting, but you feel her problem before you see it. It’s heavenly. Her hole keeps trying to clench down on the thickest part of you, she’s even bracing her feet on the ground, trying to force it into herself, but the ring of muscle is too tight. It keeps pushing you right back out. You exhale shakily, pulling her the fat of her ass to the side and just watching that, letting yourself burn how it feels around you into your memory.
“Billy!” Paige snaps.
You roll your eyes, but your lips are spread apart with a grin. You love how bossy she’s getting. You’re a little disappointed you don’t get to watch anymore, but you’re also aware that what you’re about to do to her is absolutely a worthwhile trade off.
You buck your hips forward so hard her desk shakes. You groan, loud, probably way too loud. Can’t be helped though, because your cock is sinking past her body’s stubbornness, and then you’re finally buried right to the hilt.
You take a second, listening to Paige whimper around the fist she just bit onto again, and enjoying how unbelievably tight and warm she is around you. She’s definitely not actually a slut, that’s for sure. You huff out a chuckle.
Paige looks back at you with another glare, and you quirk a brow, silently telling her to kindly fuck off for a second. You give her one of her arms back as you switch your focus. Paige’s nails scrape the wood under her. Your fist is back in her ponytail, and you pull it hard as you flex your hips back.
You pull all of her down again, pushing the side of her face into her desk and savouring the feeling of keeping her still for a moment. She whimpers, teeth gritting. Then you shift your hips back, forward, and you’re putting so much force into each of the slow thrusts that the desk you have her bent over on is wailing. You hope it’s not an antique she cares about.
Paige cries out against her fist each time, those stunning green eyes fixed on you over her shoulder. She nods her head at you a few times, and you tilt your head.
“You like this? Me fuckin' you hard and slow like this?” you ask, gripping your fingers into her ass so hard you’re leaving five more marks of evidence on her body. Paige nods much more frantically, and you click your tongue.
“Damn. That’s too bad,” you shift yourself back, dragging your cock nearly halfway out of her, “I don’t. You’re a little quiet, don’t 'ya think?”
Paige shakes her head at you, and you’re wearing one the most smug smirks of your entire life.
You start drilling your hips into her properly, eyes slipping closed. You focus on how she feels, every ridge, the warmth, and fuck, you can’t stop yourself from speeding up even more.
The sound is ringing out through the room. All of it. Your balls slapping against wetness, the desk creaking dangerously, her necklace jingling against her chest, her chest clapping against its own droop of heavy weight, and Paige starting to scream out your name. You lean yourself forward, over top of her, burying your face against her neck. You don’t slow down.
“I thought you worked here,” you huff, “What, they don’t pay you well?”
Paige shrieks as you speed your hips up even faster, and you reach your hand around to her throat.
“You don’t like being a librarian, baby? You don’t wanna work here anymore? You wanna just get fucked like the little slut you are all day?”
Paige croaks out a breath as you squeeze around her throat once more, and she’s nodding her head.
“Go on baby, say it, tell me how bad you want that,” you’re hissing the words out. You’re starting to get close again.
You buck yourself harder, a few folders and books fly off the desk this time. Paige is biting down harder on her fist again, a fresh set of tears in her eyes. You’re a little impressed, admittedly. That’s some real composure she’s got there.
You slow your hips. You let your hand slip down from her throat, and drag it along the underside of her body until you find her spent length. You hum as you bring it into your fist. Paige’s legs are shaking. You really hope this makes her cum again, because you’ve got about a minute of fucking her like this left in you before she’s full of what you’ve wanted to give her for a whole month.
You snap your hips again, pinching her cock in your fingers. Your length slams into her rim, and then you do it again, and again.
“I’ll stop if I don’t hear you admit it, pidge,” you’re actually growling the words this time. You even interrupt your rhythm for emphasis, pulling out slower, devastatingly slower, then snapping your hips back into her.
“Yes,” her eyes are blown wide, tears on her soft cheeks, “Fuck, yes, I want that, I really, really fucking WANT that!”
Oh fuck, you didn’t actually expect that response. You almost drop your rhythm completely thanks to the heat that just whipped across your abdomen.
“God fucking damn,” you pant the words into her shoulder, then actually laugh, howling mid-fuck, all while plowing into her, because holy shit you’re never, ever letting her go.
“Don’t- mmn, don’t laugh at me!” Paige whines, squeezing your hand.
“You’re not really in a position to be tellin’ me what to do here, sweetness- augh,” you pull her hair again, fingers nestling in against the roots. Paige cries out another moan. You’re still aiming to break the desk. You’re too wrapped up in what you’re doing, both with your hips and your hand to notice her flipping open a book.
“It was hot, don’t get me wrong,” you let your head fall back, “Just didn’t expect you to, ugh, fuckkk- to scream like that…”
You feel something slithering up your leg. You bleat, loud as you can, and your fur shoots up.
There’s green light all around you. Your hips freeze.
“Whoa, whoa! Paige, what the fuck are you-“ your eyes shoot wide. That thing sliding itself against your ass is a fucking tentacle. There’s actually a lot of tentacles. Two more are gripping your legs, keeping you in place. One more is twisting around the wrist of the hand you had in her hair.
“Keep,” Paige is looking back at you, chest heaving, her hand touching a copy of The Kraken Wakes, “Fucking me… and don’t say another word,” she’s glaring, and wow.
Yeah. You’re into this.
You move your hips again, returning to the gentle pace you started at. That isn’t enough to win her favour though, because that tendril that was sliding over your ass is now pressing itself against your rim.
“Faster,” Paige huffs.
You do as you’re told, core tightening. The narrow tip of the tentacle pushes itself against you, hard, and you shove your face against her back as you try to steal away a few proper breaths. Your hand is still on her shaft, pumping it in time with your hips.
“Ugh!” Paige growls, and the tendril holding the wrist of your hand in ginger locks tugs you down, placing your hand on her neck once more, “Faster!”
You shudder, and start bucking your hips into her as fast as you can manage. The table is creaking in time with the blur of your hips, and holy shit, that thing is pushing into you and it’s big. She’s not giving you anything other than how wet and warm the length is, and how good her ass feels to help you adjust.
You moan like a little bitch into her back, shifting your legs apart, letting that thing start to fuck you. It stings, you love it, and you’re thankful for the tendrils she’s got keeping your legs locked down. You’d be falling over yourself if not for them.
Paige is panting hard, and you squeeze her neck, you squeeze it what you think is hard, but that tendril wraps above what you’re holding and constricts her so fiercely you almost cum right then at the sight. You should have choked her the fuck out like you wanted to when she sucking your cock.
“Yes,” Paige sputters, “Fuck me, f-fuck me like this, fuck me!”
You grip her throat harder, and she shrieks, smiling wide.
“Uh-huh, just, just like that– break me,”
The length in your ass curls itself, twists, bobs, and begins to roll against your prostate like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You bite down on your tongue so hard you taste iron, all so that you don’t start filling her.
Paige is still moaning out, still begging you to break her, and fuck her, and fuck her until she’s broken, and you, fuck, you can’t, you can’t-
You keep fussing your hips, but you’re cumming. You’re spilling out rope after rope, and you feel Paige’s body shake. You feel her own release coat over your hand again. You hear her scream. The tendril inside you pulses, and there’s warmth shooting up inside you, then gushing itself down your thighs as you clench around the sensation.
You don’t stop moving. You slow, groaning, but you’re still pumping, still giving her every last drop. Your hand is still around her throat. You’re squeezing as hard as you can, and you can feel her spit dripping down onto your fingers.
Her moans are turning soft. Your other hand moves to rest on her soft stomach, and you feel her plush skin starting to distend with all the fluid inside her alongside your still twitching cock.
You breathe against her, finally bringing your hips to a stop. You can’t even say anything. You’re just panting and still feeling up the small swell of you in her round stomach.
The tendril retracts, and you pull yourself out of Paige in tandem. She moans as you start to seep out of her. Then she slips her fingers up to herself, to what you just left battered. She’s coating her fingers with you.
She's looking right back at you as she starts to sucks those digits clean in her round mouth.
“What… ah, were you saying?” she smiles, panting, “Same time next week?”
You nod your head against her shoulder. You’re just as breathless as her, and you’re smiling wide.
“Tch- gimmie a second, and we make next week happen in the next five minutes.”
She giggles. Your chest flutters. You drape yourself over her and you start kissing away leftover tears.
You’re going to marry her.
You should probably write an actual resume.