#Synopsis Writing Format

[wrirkresearch0]

5 Points To Consider While Writing An Effective Conclusion For Your Phd Thesis

Introduction

One of the most important parts of the PhD thesis is the summary and conclusions you draw from your study. It's the final chance you have to make an impact on your readers, who will likely be a panel of professional reviewers, by summarizing your results and tying up any loose ends from your research. In addition to outlining your work, a strong conclusion is where you can highlight the importance of your study and explain how your work has advanced the area. Here are five key considerations for writing a powerful conclusion to your doctoral dissertation:

Summarize key findings: You should start your conclusion with a brief overview of your subject and the issue it presents. The next section provides a Phd Synopsis Presentation of your study's most important results and conclusions. Instead of introducing brand-new material, the conclusion is an opportunity to highlight the most significant findings and contributions made during the thesis. Make sure these results are readily understood by using simple, unambiguous language in your presentation.

Address research objectives: Examine the initial objectives and underlying assumptions of your original thesis. This study has contributed to the attainment of the stated objectives by examining the extent to which our research has facilitated their realization. Additionally, it has evaluated the accuracy of our initial forecasts. The significance and implications of attaining or exceeding these objectives for one's professional field should be underscored.

Reflect on methodology: Provide a succinct description of the thesis methodology employed in your work, highlighting its notable characteristics and limitations. In order to demonstrate intellectual integrity and analytical rigor, it is imperative to engage in a comprehensive examination of any underlying assumptions, constraints, or biases that could have influenced the outcomes of one's research.

Discuss implications, limitations, and future directions: When you discuss your findings in terms of the greater relevance they have, it will help you take them beyond the scope of the particular question that was being investigated in your study. Consider the ways in which your work contributes to the growth of knowledge in your field and the ways in which it could have an influence on future Research Paper Writing, policies, or practices. Put more of your focus on the "so what" component of your research, which addresses the question of why anyone should care about what you've learnt.

Every study has its own set of constraints, and acknowledging those constraints requires both self-awareness and honesty on the part of the researcher. The limits of your study need to be highlighted, regardless of whether they apply to the technique of the study, the data from the study, or something else entirely. You should also offer further research routes that could expand upon your results and fill up these gaps. As a consequence of this, it is abundantly evident that the findings of your research make a contribution to an on going discussion.

End with a Clear and Memorable Closing Statement: Make sure your last sentence is crystal clear and memorable to your readers. In a single sentence, sum up why your study is important and what you want readers to remember. It might be an inspiring quotation, a question that prompts more consideration, or a call to action for further study or implementation of your discoveries.

In addition to these five essential components, be sure to have an academic and professional tone throughout the whole of your conclusion and for this you can take help from Wrirk. It is important to avoid adding additional references or citations in this part, since its primary emphasis should be on summarizing and synthesizing the previous work, you have done.

Conclusion

There is more to writing an excellent conclusion for your PhD thesis than just reviewing the research you have done. It is a chance to reflect on the relevance of your work, accept its shortcomings, and stimulate more study and development in your subject. You can guarantee that your thesis has an enduring influence on your audience by adhering to these principles and meticulously constructing your conclusion. This will also allow you to make a relevant contribution to the field in which you are engaged in research.

More Query:-

Online Thesis Writing Services In India| Online Thesis Writing| Best Phd Thesis Writing Services In India| phd thesis writing assistance| phd thesis writing services| phd thesis writing services in mathura| sample thesis format| thesis format pdf| thesis methodology| thesis paper| thesis proposal samples| thesis statement| thesis writing format| thesis writing format pdf| thesis writing help| thesis writing services| thesis writing services india| thesis writing services near me| what is a thesis| what is a thesis statement example

[honeydots]

What do you think Siegbert’s relationship with Laslow and Soleil’s relationship with Xander are like particularly as they get older/teenagers.

anon you're enabling me i LOVE their parent/child relationships as they get older!!! read more cause this got looooong

for laslow and siegbert--well first off, i think laslow always can provide a particular brand of emotionally-based support that develops more as siegbert gets older. siegbert has his Anxiety Issues, and where laslow and xander both struggle w sociality as well, i think laslow can relate in a more... empathetic way? dealing with some of the emotional aftermath and letting feelings be feelings (this isn't to say siegbert doesn't go to xander or that xander doesn't help, i just think they're good at different things). on a more lighthearted note, i think laslow's really good at getting a giggle out of siegbert, and good at finding ways to alleviate pressure. he's been doing this for years with xander. and yes, xander and siegbert need different things, but laslow's good at pinpointing those things

something i rly like abt their relationship is that i think that where siegbert more openly shows his idolization of xander (like we see in-game), he still does something really similar with laslow. looking up to him, taking inspiration from him. it just comes out in different ways. for example, siegbert probably trusts laslow's opinions... a lot. considers his sometimes more than his own. and he's just fascinated by the stories he tells. even after laslow's married to xander, i like to think he still travels (and drags xander with him as often as he can--and also drags their kids along as often as he can hahaha), and those stories in particular really entrap siegbert. which is good for a budding prince, i think something laslow (and eventually siegbert and soleil) has that xander lacks is some open mindedness, and not being so narrowly nohr-centric in his perspective--esp in upbringing, if that makes sense. this is also why i like laslow taking xander traveling, cause ultimately i think it would do him good.

ONTO!!! soleil and xander!! ive mentioned before how much i like the grumpy-dad and peppy-daughter dynamic, but. to reiterate: i really really like it gjsjfjsnf soleil, similarly to laslow but probably even more, tends to go to xander and ramble about her girl successes and failures. just barging into his office like i hope you're not busy cause i have things to SAY!! and i don't think xander dismisses her, but he does make her wait sometimes, hahaha. i also think xander will often tell soleil what she needs to hear, rather than what she wants, and ultimately for her that's better than the alternative. he's not entirely harsh (though he can be and that's something to work on), but honest. he also dotes on her more than he should by a xander-standard LOL

i think soleil provides to xander a lot of brightness--it is NOT lost on me that they named her soleil, sun, in a place like nohr. i think surrounding xander with bright people is a fantastic idea. and just like laslow's doing with the traveling thing, soleil probably gets xander to socialize a little more, haha. he isn't a brick wall that can't talk to anybody, but--he does strike me as the kind of guy who has coworkers, but not friends, ya feel me. soleil's confident and full of energy, and tbh i think she's the type to really want attention from her parents, so asking xander to come along with her is a frequent request. and that eventually, naturally, leads to xander getting out more. she doesn't have the same setback as laslow that if he gets shy enough he'll retreat entirely while they're out, hahaha

and one final note to round this off: i like to think!! that xander and soleil are both cat people (xander = cabbit, and soleil has lines about owning kitten posters), where laslow and siegbert are dog people (i have many aus where laslow has a pet dog so this is more of a 'because i said so' kinda thing) (also you might be inclined to think cat for siegbert also but i need you to look inward. deeper. i think he'd like the enthusiasm...!!! i have more i could say but i'll leave it at that)

there you go!! :D

[kids-worldfun]

Steps To Write a Synopsis for an Assignment

A synopsis is an essential tool for conveying the key points of a longer piece of writing in many fields, including business, academia, literature, and cinema. Condensing intricate stories of concepts into a concise yet captivating style is an art form that demands accuracy, imagination, and skill in crafting captivating synopsis. What is a synopsis and how to compose the most effective version…

[karinasbaby]

BREATHE ME IN. ✱ MDNI ❕

synopsis. The ancient bloodline of serpent hybrids was hidden, closed off. Unknown, a mere unconfirmed sighting of them is enough to ring alarms of danger. But here you were, claimed and possessed by a snake that held a voice as smooth as honey and a touch as light as feather— what would happen when your curiosity over his kind gets the best of you and you want to unleash the side of him that was written down in history?

pairing. snake!jake x fem!reader (19+)❕warnings. PURE FLITH, like genuinely disgusting nasty questionable smut. DARK CONTENT, jake is obv a snake, fangs, subspace, blood drinking, mentions of stalking + kidnapping, he has magical venom like an aphrodisiac, venom feeding, unprotected sex, creampies, feeding rituals, supernatural bond formation, belly bulge, tongue sucking + throat fucking, knotting bcs he has a knot, body worship, womb + cervix worship & fucking, Jake has stalkerish tendencies, he bites u multiple times, oviposition like full on eggs cuz hes a reptile, like he lays eggs in u fyi, insane breeding kink like genuinely, soft moments but like just twice in the span of 16k words. word count. 16.7k

a,note. this is by far my nastiest fic i’ve ever written. half of me gen doesn’t want to post this here, it’s my first time ever writing + posting something like this. please read the warnings and minors do not interact. this fic contains dark content and some creepy stuff people might be uncomfortable with, read at your own risk & have a nice day ! + proofread at 9 am with zero hours of sleep (as usual)

The sound of pages turning reverberated through the walls.

You sat on the soft mattress, back pressing against the headboard while a pile of books accompanied your bedside table, fingers flicking from page to page.

A simple warm light dimmed the room, your shared bedroom that almost felt alive, your surroundings felt like they pulsed sometimes. The furniture feeling cold to the touch before turning warmer, this was yours and his sacred place, his nest.

It was where you were most comfortable with being, and he was most satisfied with you being. Engulfed in his warmth, in his pulse that synced with his heartbeat so he connected to you at all times.

The paper in front of you contained drawings, sketches, definitions, explanations. The first few that you skipped revolved around mermaids, wolf hybrids, panther hybrids— till you finally reached the chapter you wanted.

Snake hybrids. The offspring of humans, serpents and vipers.

“Snake hybrids have special characteristics, most of them carry split eyes that dilate at the sighting of a prey. Some have large tongues, dry and barbed. Extending a few inches past what’s considered normal depending on the hybrid bloodline—“

You flipped the page.

“A rare species of serpent crossbreds may be born with multiple different appendages, their tails—“

You flipped another page.

Vision skimming past the words written carefully onto each part, the different anatomies of snakes, their hybrid form and their viper form— you were too indulged in the book to notice the passing glimmer of scales.

Obsidian with a jade iridescence, thick and rough.

Jake slithered towards you quietly, silencing his hissing and the scratch of his scales as he made his way through his nest. Emerald slit eyes that locked in on you. His lover, his mate, his prey.

And before you could turn your wrist to turn the page— you felt it.

The warm, large brushing of his scurry tail. His scales providing a soothing chill before the warmth of his venom pulsed through it. “Entertaining yourself with books about me when I’m right here?” His tone was smooth, deep and hypnotising.

“I was just curious..” you closed the book, the sound of the cover shutting bringing a daunting smile to his sharp features, his eyes raked over you, slits tightening when he tilted his head.

“Hm? About what, love?” His tail circled your ankle before trailing upper, sneaking between the warmth of your inner thighs when you squirmed before wrapping around your waist, fully coiling himself around you as he inched his face closer.

You breathed out shakily, “about your kind..” “what about my kind?” His heartbeat pulsed around the walls in the nest and around you. Tail tensing the slightest bit making you feel the drumming beat that coursed through your viper’s veins.

His question stopped you. A flush warming around your neck at the embarrassment of admitting that you wanted to know about snakes mating. Serpents bonding. Vipers connecting and devoting themselves fully.

Because it’s true— you are curious. So curious as to why Jake has allowed you into his nest, has made you feel the shimmery scales of his tail yet still hasn’t fully claimed you.

The amount of stories you’ve heard of other humans being claimed by their serpent hybrids, the sheer force of their connection, the weight of the love they shared, the way they became biologically altered to accept their mate.. made you feel hollow.

Jake didn’t do any of that with you. Sure, he might’ve told you about his previous mate experiences. You might’ve gained knowledge about a thing or two of a sacred ritual passed down from fanged bloodlines, but you didn’t experience.

You wanted to feel jake connect to you as far as his reptile body allowed him to. You wanted to feel him devote himself completely to you, to mark you, to scent you, to bond to you for life and claim you.

You yearned to be claimed by him.

And Jake could already see the longing in your eyes, he felt it every time your fingers touched his scales. Each time you stared at his long tongue that flicked past his plump lips, he knew. And he wanted to claim you as badly as you wanted him, but he was still scared of hurting you.

Two different kinds, two different species. He had venom coursing through his veins next to his cold blood while yours pumped warmly, he had fangs that ached when he took too long to release while your teeth were half the size of his, even though Jake wanted to claim you— god, he wanted to worship you. There was still an intrusive thought that gnawed his mind that you’ll hurt. That he’ll break you, that you’re not ready for him.

“I could show you what you want to know, satisfy your curiosity..” he trailed off, bringing his clawed finger to trace down your jaw making you nuzzle against his touch. “But I might hurt you.” Jake whispered admittedly, the raise of your eyebrows and the surprise in your eyes almost making him regret telling you.

You wrapped your hand around his, warm. He could feel the unnoticeable tremor in your digits when you laced them through his. Squeezing once. “You’ll never hurt me, Jake.” Reassuring him, you looked straight at him. Allowing him to see the confidence in your gaze. “I know you never will.”

The serpent sighed, inching closer to push his forehead against yours while his tail tightened around your frame. “I’m still worried, but I do want to try.” Lips brushing around yours before he pulled away to let you see him, past his softness, past his worries, past everything.

To see his slit pupils dilate, to see the peek of his fangs that dripped with his nectar-like honey, to fully remind you just what you were asking of him.

God that thought alone made you crave him more.

“I will show you everything.” He purred, “give you anything you want to make you know me. Get your body used to me, to taste me.”

And Jake always kept his promises.

It starts the next day.

You’re in the comfort of his nest, tip of his tail stroking your thigh lazily, he was hovering above your laying frame, close. So close you could feel the swift lick of his tongue whenever it flicked out.

“We have a feeding ritual.” He hisses, voice barely above a whisper as you nod at his words. Concentration fully locked on him, giving him all your attention when he finally gave in to preparing you for him.

He’s inches away from your face, soft breaths fanning your skin as jake continues, “it’s intimate, I will mark your inside with my tongue, and feed you my venom.” You gulped.

Not because you were scared, maybe a small part of you was nervous but you knew about something like this before— a few fleeting articles that were titled with “venom feeding” and if anything, you were anticipating this.

Yet your eyebrows still furrowed, “my inside?” He nodded, “your throat. I’ll mark it with my tongue, claim it as my own.”

“Now let me show you, sweet thing.” And you nodded, he flicked his muscle out slowly this time. The tip passing his lips as his split tongue came into view. Both endings twitching independently as more came out.

His venom infused saliva shined in front of you. The sight of his abnormally long tongue made your mouth water. You suddenly felt a heat rush down your body, settling into your core when Jake showed you just how ready his tongue was to claim you.

Jake smirked at your bewildered expression, the dazed look in your eyes that followed his every move when he retracted his tongue back. “Are you ready?” Without even replying back to another word, your mouth opened for him.

Your innocent obedience making his emerald gaze dilate, your own tongue— sweet and small in comparison to his, lolling out just to show him how ready and prepared you were.

He breathed deeply through his nose, pulling you closer before he hovered his face above yours. And spat.

You gasped at the sight of the wet glob that glistened with his venom. It almost appeared to pulse in your eyes. As if his poison was just as impatient as you were to ruin you.

And when the long string finally landed on your awaiting tongue, you moaned at the flavour. So thick, so warm and sweet. An addictive tingle spreading around your mouth when the venom travelled along your tastebuds.

Your first taste of his nectarine venom, the one he prepared for you, to feed you only.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. A familiar heat awakening in his body when you closed your mouth, humming pleasantly at his venom that your body accepted. He kept trying to focus, reminding himself that something could still go wrong, you could reject his venom, your body could react negatively to it— but you were sloshing it around your mouth like you were tasting your favourite honey.

And Jake knew now that your body didn’t just accept him, it liked him. Enjoyed his taste, the tinge of his claim on your tongue.

“Swallow, sweetheart.” His clawed hands, rough looking but oh so gentle when cradling your face made you have no choice but to keep your eyes locked on his when you swallowed.

Where he stared at your throat, the small gulp of him going down your throat and coating it down on the way— to settle into your stomach, where your body will slowly break it down and he will become a part of you.

That thought alone, of being so close to you that you carry him made him almost lose his mind.

“You took it all so well, angel girl.” You closed your eyes when he caressed your neck, the base of his thumb pressing against your pulse point that sang for him. “You’re ready. Your body accepted me, it’s only fair that I feed it well now.”

And that’s when his tail circled your hips, scales wrapping around you protectively while his index finger tapped your cheek. “Open up again for me.” His demanding tone made you shudder in his hold before you let your mouth fall open again, jaw going slack while jake admired the new nest his tongue will find comfort in.

Your throat tightened around nothing, so wet and warm he couldn’t hold himself back from pushing his tongue out and slipping it inside of you.

His split tips slithered along your tongue. Barbed, wet and divided. You drooled uncontrollably around his muscle when he sank in further, brushing against the back of your throat when you gagged around him, hands gripping at his arms desperately as Jake tried his best to open you up more.

To accept more of him, more of his aching tongue that was about to burst from the amount of venom he held for you, more of his tongue that sent electrifying pulses down his body just from the taste of you.

The taste of your cavern all wrapped around him, trying her best to take more of him in but it felt like he was endless.

“J-Jake..” you mumbled, jaw flexing as it almost began to hurt from the flexion, but Jake was obsessed.

His hair ruffled in all directions, a fusion of your saliva with mixed his dripping down his chin while he kept his eyes closed for a few seconds. Like he was trying to memorise your taste, the feeling of your throat tightening around his tongue. The hot and dripping embrace of your body around his.

“Almost there.” And once he spoke those words— you felt it.

The release. The warm, continuous waves that pumped down your throat. Pure venom.

Poison that swirled straight from his pulsing glands from under his jaw that was altered— it wasn’t lethal, wasn’t dangerous, his body had specifically crafted this venom for a mate.

With the purpose of claiming, of marking, of scenting, of breeding.

It was thicker than the first taste he gave you. Sweeter than the first dribble you felt on your tongue. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when the steady pulses streamed down, you felt the heat radiating off of what you were swallowing, the way it marked its way down your throat all the way to your stomach to tuck itself inside of you. Where it pulsed.

The feeling of being owned from your mouth— your tongue and your throat like this was making a floating sensation swirl around your head. You couldn’t tell if this was from his venom or from the pleasure that you were feeling from having him this close, this connected to you.

But it didn’t matter, because everything felt good.

The forked tips of his tongue stroked down your throat, caressing every warm muscle, every corner and crevice they could reach while your serpent’s venom slipped inside, where you couldn’t help but involuntarily swallow around his tongue.

Jake almost lost it.

You were taking him. A sacred, bonding part of him that he’s never used on anyone like this, he’s never marked anyone like this. Yet here you were, with his barbed tongue so deep down your throat, drool that infused with your spilling tears drizzling down your neck while you sucked him more.

Like you weren’t aware of doing it, like it was your own body’s doing.

And jake continued feeding you. Who else would he feed if not his mate that was taking him in so sweetly? Pretty tight little throat pulsing around him when you gagged before sucking him in more, your muscles trying their best to take him in, to drag him in deeper and to have him continue.

Because Jake knew before you, that this wasn’t just a feeding. This was the start of an addiction.

He didn’t just feed your body his venom to claim you, he did it so your body knows that it’s owned. Knows that it has a viper that will protect it, nourish it, feed it.

And what’s a better way than making you know this by making you addicted to him? By making you crave him. Your throat that he just marked and claimed to need him, his venom becoming the only salvation to your thirst that he awakened. Because you’re his mate.

You’re his other half, you’re his.

It was past midnight when you woke up.

Sweaty, icy cold. Breathing heavily when your entire body tingled, an uncomfortable itch— an uncomfortable burn. A scratch that bled in your throat.

The feeling wasn’t new, you knew you were thirsty, the ache and dryness in your mouth almost made it feel like you were scratching it from the inside when you moved your tongue.

With bleary eyes you reached blindly towards the bedside table, where jake always brought a glass of water for you. Ignoring the shift of scales around your waist when you moved, fingers wrapping around the cooling cup before bringing it up to you.

And swallowing one sip, second sip.

Until you finished the whole glass without even meaning to, but your eyebrows furrowed.

Sleepy confusion clouding your senses when the ache didn’t dull, it continued. It felt like you didn’t even try, the water effectiveless.

Your breathing quickened when the sensation became entirely suffocating. Was the water too little? Was there something wrong with your mouth? You felt yourself almost on the verge of hyperventilating.

Almost, because the tail around you tightened before jake spoke right against your neck.

“Precious?” Voice still laced with sleep, tail unwrapping slightly as you turned around to face him. He could see the slumber slowly fading off your face along with the dampening along your temples. “Is something wrong?”

“My throat..” you sounded hoarse, wincing slightly at the discomfort that came along with moving your mouth, “it feels so dry.. and I just drank water, I think I need more.” You slung your legs down the side of the bed right when his clawed hand held your nightdress.

And then the serpent realised something.

“Baby.. it’s not the water.” Jake coaxed you back into the bed, “what?” You whispered now, the itch intensifying the longer you spent in bed, the longer your mouth stayed dry.

“It’s not the water, you can even test it for yourself.” He quickly reached back and gave you his glass from his side, the liquid sloshing as you brought it to your lips and gulped it in the blink of an eye. Still dry.

Your hand wrapped around your throat in irritation, “then what is it?” “It’s me.”

The serpent sat up on the bed, towering frame hovering above yours as his tail slithered to rest against your hips, “your throat isn't thirsty for water, it’s thirsty for me.” You gulped.

His clawed index ran along your jawline, “you had a taste of my venom, and that’s what your body wants now. It wants me, it knows me. Recognises me as your mate.”

His words, his tone, his slit pupils, his sharp claw— everything felt so territorial. Completely consuming, making you melt against the mattress as he pressed his brawny body to yours. “Your body knows I’m the one that’s supposed to feed it.”

Focused eyes tilted down to where you swallowed nervously, his hand instinctively wrapping around your feverish skin. “So let me feed you.” Jake felt the urge to feed you long before either of you decided to go to sleep, it hasn’t even been half a day since you first tasted him, but he knew you’d crave him again in a few hours.

He still wanted to test it.

To test your body, your senses. To see if you could depend on him, if your body could want him to function. To be hungry for him and his taste. To yearn for him.

Not that he wanted to ever starve you, to deprive you of the one thing his body produced for you. It was quite the opposite. He wanted the bond between you to strengthen, to grow, to make both of you dependent on each other.

He doesn’t waste another minute, don’t want to make either of you suffer because the ache in his fangs is becoming too much.

“Open up.” He demands, fingers gently squeezing your neck when your mouth fell open for him and he sighed. It fuelled him up, awakened an urge inside of him. Whenever your jaw stretched for him, he felt an electrifying excitement bloom in his chest.

A thirst that burned his throat. And just like that he slipped his tongue back inside of your mouth, split ends separating when they reached their home. Slithering in further and further while you both moaned at the feeling.

You gasped at the first drip of venom, so rich, so sweet. Your hands mindlessly reaching to his wrist while he moved to hold yours, interlacing your fingers as he sank deeper.

Going past the back of your throat, relishing in the feeling of you tightening around him before relaxing in acceptance, in recognition before your muscles began to swallow.

He groaned in pleasure when you hummed around his tongue, milking the venom that spilled inside of you for the second time because it was so reliving.

The moment you tasted him again, everything disappeared. The itch, the scratch and discomfort— gone.

Jake was right, it isn’t a thirst for water. It’s for him. The same venom he fed you, the same venom that warmed your insides and infused to your blood in your veins. Accepting him and desiring him.

It felt so intense, so overpowering to have him wrap his cool tail around you, lengthy tongue that fucked your throat shoved in so deep while he still held your hand gently, still kept his other right above your pulse points.

Because that’s where he was now. That’s where his venom pulsed. Right inside of you.

He fed you, nourishing your body and satisfying your thirst as you emptied his glands, falling further into a state of complete euphoria and bliss at being catered for. Limbs feeling heavier with each passing second when you whimpered around his mouth that pulsed more venom down your throat.

“Let go, sweetheart.” Jake whispered, his expression devoted as he memorised the way you looked under him, full of him. “You did amazing for me.. your body responded to me, wanted me. Let go now, little thing. Let me take care of you.” And you were slipping more.

Words enthralling, touch entrancing, tongue feeding. You were completely and utterly bonded.

“Let me fill you up till you sleep again.”

Jake’s scales pulsed around you, once, twice. Each one syncing with the rhythm of his heartbeat that he wrapped around you.

The sleep slipped out of your eyes when you fully registered the familiar warmth, slowly opening your lids to greet his slit pupils that admired you.

“Good morning, little nest.” His accent was more accentuated when his tone was groggy, the slumber still twinkling in his words when he sleepily smiled at you.

“Morning, handsome.” And your big, scary, serpent boyfriend hid his face in the crook of your neck, a specific throb crossing through his tail and your body when his heart fluttered.

He kissed your collarbone while you hummed sleepily, “I wasn’t too rough yesterday, was I?” Your fingers stroked his nape, shaking your head before placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Not at all.”

Jake breathed out a sigh of relief as the weight on his chest was lifted off, the nagging thoughts of hurting you, injuring you or worse— scaring you. All floating away gently while he cradled you closer to him, flicking his tongue out to taste the air that carried your sweetness and your scent.

“You should stay in bed today, love.” He spoke gently, tip of his tail stroking your lower back with his velvety scales. “Let me take care of you today.” “Don’t you always do that, though?” He smirked.

“You’re my mate now. I am bonding to you, I’m the only one who should take care of you.”

Jake’s tone was low, his passion, devotion and protection blazing in each syllable. He was a hybrid after all, human to some extent but his soul was a serpent. Protective, possessive, fierce, demanding.

His mate came first, bond second and pride third. The bloodline has been sacred for centuries, rare and unknown. Some believed that it was that way intentionally. The vipers always hissed quietly, presence cloaked with their fanged bared out.

And even if the lions, the panthers, the wolves walked around freely, their bloodlines rare but loud, serpents were always silent.

That’s what set them apart, that’s what makes them dangerous.

They don’t seek, their mating ritual is vastly different from others. They choose and then they claim, and then they disappear.

Hiss along the shadows, hide behind corners where no one can find them. Because that’s how it’s always been like. That’s what makes Jake’s species unlike any other one.

That’s why your friends freaked out when you first confessed that you were seeing someone— a hybrid, a snake.

Because they declare their mates. They capture and they slither back to the dark.

That’s what happened to you an entire year ago.

You didn’t know that Jake’s attention was on you, that there was a certain pull, a tug he felt whenever he detected your scent. He chose you before you even knew him.

And when the shadows hissed darker at night in your room, when your skin became addicted to the cool of scales on it, when all the alarm signs were going off in your friends’ and families heads that it’s happening right in front of their eyes— you disappeared.

You didn’t fade, you didn’t get to say a goodbye, you slept at night and woke up in his nest the next morning.

That’s how it’s been for the past year, this is your home, where you enjoy your time and flourish in your bubble around him. He’s taken you far away, not a place you recognise, the language you still learn till this day but there are no prying eyes on you.

There are no more hands reaching to you to pull you away— just scales.

And you love it, you’ve grown to obsess over it with time.

“Then take care of me, always.” You don’t have to tell jake twice.

He’s nuzzling his face into your neck, breathing in your love deeply before lifting his head and tapping your cheek, “open.” His pupils dilate alongside yours automatically, “let me feed you now before you get hungry again.” And you do, you let him.

Pretty plump lips, still swollen from yesterday’s feeding falling open as he sighs in pride. He can spot the fading stickiness of his venom on the back of your throat, it’s almost time then.

Jake balances himself on his arms, face just a few inches apart from yours before he opens his own mouth, tongue falling out with multiple strings of saliva that pulsed with his poison extending down the length of his muscle, so long, so lethal yet it made its way to your mouth carefully.

The split ends softly brushing your lips when he released. Steady, long and thick pulses of his warm venom dripping right from his tongue and into your mouth, where you hummed in pleasure, in delight. At the feeling of relief cascading down your body in waves the more he breathed into you.

“Take it all, love.” He whispered, his tongue now moving just to circle around yours, still pulsing and still giving. While you only took, swallowing each and every drop. “Keep yourself full, always be full of me.” Jake lowered himself, tongue slipping right against yours before his divided tips touched the entrance of your throat again— just to stroke.

His eyes were half lidded when he spoke “feeling better now, sweetheart?” And you nodded, dazed and full. The heat of his venom enveloping you, wrapping around you completely and gently loving you. “Good girl.” Then jake retracted his muscle, placing a quick kiss to your open mouth before he chased your tongue.

Both of you instinctively moaning in pleasure when his forked tongue dragged against yours, eyes closing when your candied, gentle, human flavour bursted in his mouth while he kissed and nipped your tongue.

You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes, a heat pooling down towards your core, a craving awakening making your hips twitch under him, right when jake began to suck on your tongue.

“Fuck.. baby..” he took more, mouth chasing after your sensitive tongue while you whimpered under him, still drunk on his venom and now he was sucking your tongue like it was the source, “tastes so sweet.. so addictive.” His lips wrapped more tightly, he sucked harshly, relishing in the vibrations that trailed down his throat from your mouth.

Jake’s hand gripped your hip, to stop you from rutting into him, and his fingertips almost burned from the heat you were radiating, so needy, so eager, so his.

Then with a final suck to the tip of your tongue, he trailed his kisses lower. Open mouthed with his barbed skin stroking you to mark and to claim. “I’ve got you.. I’ve got your throat.” He whispered, his lips reaching your lower stomach as he nipped your hip bone, just enough to graze it with his peeking fang. “And I’ve got you here.” Jake spoke right when his hand cupped your mound.

You gasped, a shudder tensing through your body at the slight feeling of relief, of having him touch you right where you need him the most, where your body yearned for him the most.

And jake chuckled.

A deep, crazed rumble of his chest that almost sounded like a purr, his slender fingers deftly stroked your sopping cunt, leaking and dripping when he has barely touched you, and the thought of you being so ready for him, your pretty little pussy wanting him so much that she’s salivating for him? Was making him dizzy.

He hissed, feral and possessive when his claw ripped your soaked panties open, the lace dangling off of it while he let out a guttural sound at the sight of you, so wet, glistening and tightening around nothing as if you’re inviting him in, welcoming him in— begging him to touch you.

“Look at you..” his claws disappeared in an instant, trailing down your folds gently just to hear you whimper under him. “She’s so needy for me..” he was stunned.

Infatuated, so so in love with your pretty hole, his hole, his womb and his home.

“Let’s see how she’ll react to me..” he spoke with the tip of his finger circling your entrance, swirling your nectarine spit making your whole body flutter under him. “She should recognise me now..” you didn’t know what he was talking about.

Because jake didn’t tell you that his venom doesn’t only make your throat crave him, it doesn’t only make your mouth thirst for him and your body to settle when he’s around.

The venom that he created for you, that ran in your veins right now and reached your womb— marks you.

From the inside out, wholly and entirely. You didn’t know this, but he owns you now. Your throat, your womb, your entire body.

And he is right. Because the second he kisses your entrance, soft lips nuzzling into your quivering walls, the first flick of his venom laced tongue just inside your entrance— barely in, just a simple poke.

Your back arched in the nest.

A broken sob and moan slipped past your lips at the sheer force, the sheer strength of the contraction that coursed through your body, absolutely and utterly divine.

The tears that aligned your waterline now slipped freely, your walls fluttered— tightening, widening, convulsing restlessly as if they were trying to milk something just at the slightest taste of his venom.

You felt the way a deeper part of you opened up— your tight, unscathed and untouched cervix pulsing right before flickering. As if the gate was entirely unsealed now, cervix swollen, low and ready.

And jake felt all of it, he felt the way your thighs twitched and jerked next to his head, he senses the way your pussy awakened, your womb fluttering open in preparation for him.

Because she recognised him, a single taste— a short, almost nonexistent slip of his venom and she released.

“Of course she does..” he laughed in awe, at the feeling of your body burning under him, at the breathless sounds that escaped your falling chest, at the way more slick poured out of you like it was urging him in.

The sight, the sense and the scent of everything alone made his head spin. The serpent felt the way his tail twitched in desperation, fingers shaking as he tried his best to not allow his claws to slip out, his slit pupils dilating so far his emerald iris is gone.

He felt the carnal urge, the primal pull that stirred inside of him. The need and the desire, the programmed, biological response of his kind to claim, to worship, to breed. The very cunt that’s anticipating him. Dripping in arousal and hunger in hopes of luring him in with his venom still pulsing through your veins, so reactive, so responsive.

But not tonight, not yet.

Jake will just worship you for tonight, please and satisfy your needy pussy in preparation for what’s to come.

That’s when he slipped his tongue inside of you. Lengthy muscle that pulsed within your walls at every contraction that he felt, you cried. Fingers gripping around the sheets so hard your knuckles paled, a sheen, thin layer of sweat illuminating your body while you fell apart above his nest.

You looked divine, something holy, something completely sacred.

And the serpent wanted to do nothing more than to devote himself to you. Mind, body and soul.

His pretty mate, his loving mate that accepted and thrived off of his venom— writhing under him, twitching and shaking as moans spilled out of your body, pure euphoria overflowing within you while jake retracted his tongue— only to thrust it back in entirely.

Movements sloppy, uncoordinated and mindless as he fucked your throbbing cunt on his tongue that dripped and drooled with his saliva and his venom, your walls clamped down on his muscle, the first contact of his poison right against you made you feel delirious.

Your body drank him in, tightening walls that he fucked were wrapping around him, milking his tongue that gave more and more of his flavour, his taste and your womb’s sedative.

Jake’s tail slashed behind him, his hips rutting restlessly against the layers of fabric of his nest under him. He felt his senses sparking when your taste filled him up. Eyes wild, claws peeking before disappearing and jake was just getting started.

His breaths were heavy as he felt himself unable to breathe. Tongue so deep inside of you, the forked edges dragged against your pulsing walls while his split tips nuzzled into your sweetest spots, you tasted so good, so tender.

He wrapped your thighs around his head with no intentions of slipping out anytime soon, his mouth suckled around your folds, drenched when his nose brushed against your puffy clit, needy and neglected that from one single stroke, you came.

You weren’t even able to process the build up of your climax, nor were you able to comprehend the waves of pleasure that crashed upon you, one after the other. Merciless as jake fucked you through it. Tongue piercing you faster, rougher and deeper.

Until you felt him reach your peak.

The one sacred spot inside of you. Hidden and tucked away so deep in safety, in security. The one spot that jake claimed.

The one the serpent wanted and marked. It belongs to him now, your fluttering, dripping cervix that throbbed the moment his poisoned tips reached it.

And you screamed, the sensation so new, so uncomfortable yet soothing— so painful yet pleasant, it made you feel like your mind was melting away, your head being filled with mush while your body went completely limp under him.

Jake was euphoric. High on the taste of you, on the feeling of you pulsing around him, and right when he reached the opening of your cervix, his place, the one he’s going to surrender himself too, he felt feral.

He’s reached his peak, the most precious part of his mate that he caressed with the tips of his tongue, slicking and stroking the tight muscle that twitched for him, called for him. He couldn’t ever think of retracting himself away, of leaving you alone, not when the sensation of your tightening was so addictive.

He could feel you from here, love you from here. He was able to sense the beat of your heart just because his tongue was touching the most intimate part of you, and he felt his body shake in relief. In satisfaction that this is his home.

Your womb, pretty and fluttery, prospered under his venom. The one he keeps feeding you, rolling out of his glands along his tongue and straight to your cervix, where your muscles pulsed like they were taking him in, drinking him up.

“You’re drinking from me..” he mouthed at your sensitive clit, your cunt was so overstimulated, so used but still restless against his tongue. “Your womb.. she’s taking from me. She recognises me..” he’s completely frenzied.

And you were slipping in and out of consciousness, unaware in a bubble of constant bliss, you didn’t know if you were cumming anymore— all you could feel was the consistent thrumming, the consistent pulling and convulsing of your walls around his tongue while the tips swirled and pushed at your cervix, almost like they were cuddling against it.

Jake’s body slumped, engulfed in elation while your figure rested under him, legs occasionally twitching when he caressed too hard, his mouth and tongue locked. This time on your cunt, feeding his venom inside of you to claim you, to leave a mark so deep it’s almost a wound, a scar that you’ll always carry.

A deep connection, a familiarity between his venom and your womb.

So he kept feeding you, even when your awareness floated away, keeping you sealed in a cloud of pure pleasure and surrender. Even when his muscles ached and his tail twitched wildly, and even when his sweatpants felt so warm and sticky from his mindless release right when your womb accepted him.

He was still inside of you, like a good, responsible and possessive mate that will do anything for his other half. He caressed you, he held you and kept you full while your cervix allowed it, welcomed it, loved it.

You were flourishing with his venom flooding you from the inside, and it was just the beginning.

The serpent placed a big porcelain plate in front of you. Vibrant with colours of different fruits and vegetables, the pretty hues from the berries and the chopped pieces of bell peppers alongside the golden glow of the fried eggs he made so early in the morning.

Packed with protein and filling, just what he needed for his mate. “Eat. All of it, angel.” His words were tender, touch even softer in comparison. He hovered behind you, towering frame that glimmered with scattered scales along his tail, Jake’s built was so impressively massive he could cover you with his body completely.

“I need you to be healthy, at all times. Need you to be energetic and strong.” His clawed finger ran along your shoulder blade, careful and featherlight. Teasing the strap of your short, satin nightgown that he picked up when your body was too sensitive to even move. You nodded at his attentiveness, heart swelling in your chest when he placed a soft kiss to your neck. “Eat well, my mate.”

And you did, fingers grabbing the honeyed toast apart as you chewed, strawberries bursting with sweetness in your mouth as you nourished your body the whole time your viper’s tail stroked your thighs, travelling along the dips and curves of your skin gently. Scales velvety soft as if each movement that was caressing you was kissing your body.

You turned around every now and then to pop a piece of fruit into his mouth, pulling apart your toast unevenly to give him the bigger pieces, and he accepted all of them. Flicking his long tongue out to tease your fingertips that held the food to his lips before he let the edge of his fang graze your skin, just to hear you giggle when he finally took the piece in his mouth.

He felt himself falling closer to you, even though there was barely in space between you two physically, he still was lured towards you. No matter how much he kissed you, touched you and breathed you in he always yearned to be closer.

To nuzzle into you, carve a space in your heart just for him and stay there, safe and protected in the spot that he flourished in. He could never feel himself close enough— if possible, he wanted to bore his entire soul to yours.

You fed him when you believed that it was the opposite, you loved and protected him when you thought that he was the one doing everything. But the truth was that he would’ve crumbled apart ages ago if it wasn’t for your kind touch and loving eyes that gazed at him like he hung the stars in your universe, he breathed the air into your lungs and he brought the sun out to your sky.

So devoted, so in love and so mated.

He adored you, his very being was wrapped around you, surrounding you in ways only a serpent could wrap around their mate. He wasn’t just bonding himself to you, eventually making himself just bonded— no, he was fated to you.

The same way you accepted him, the same way you were fated to him.

A fusion of your two souls, laced with warm blood and sweet venom that glowed between your chests, something beyond comprehension skills, beyond the relationships and marriages you were used too, because you weren’t in love with jake. You dedicated every piece of yourself to him.

And he held each piece with care, a teasing yet gentle hold. Just like the way he nipped your finger now.

“Ow! That one hurted.” You huffed, the serpent’s pupils thinned when he let out a sudden breath, a laugh at your endearing expression while you stared at your perfectly fine finger.

Jake quickly engulfed your finger in his hands, cool blooded heart unable to take the slight pout in your face. He pressed his lips right on the spot he grazed, “all better now, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

The serpent kept you close, arm now cradling your side, tail wrapped protectively around your ankle all the while his own hand fed you from the plate since your hand should ‘just rest now’ according to his words.

And he pressed a soft kiss to your overly sweet mouth after each bite. As if to praise you, to seal the bite inside and make sure that you swallow it.

When you’re done with everything, he presses a kiss to your throat.

It felt like a ‘thank you’ rather than a kiss, a small appreciation for nurturing you and keeping you in his arms.

You cuddled closer to him, a habitual heat radiating off his body that pulsed against you. Making you feel every breath, every beat and every pulse. You were a part of him as much as he was a part of you.

“Jake..” your voice was giddy, calling for him as he hummed peacefully behind you, his lips were gently littering kisses along your shoulder, down your arm and right on the faint throb on your wrist.

And then you felt it.

A deep, carnal hunger, the same discomfort, the same itch from two nights ago— it made you shift in your seat, retracting your arm from his hold like you couldn’t fully breathe for a moment, your body was feverish.

Jake’s eyes narrowed, detecting the shift instantly and flicking his tongue out to taste the air— distress, agitation, thirst.

His tail unwrapped from your ankle, “everything okay?” Voice low, attentive and protective. You shook your head, a dryness aching in your throat. “I think .. that thing is happening again.” The serpent’s composure wavered.

It was working. Your body .. was thirsty for him again.

It made jake swoon. A slight tremor in his fingers when he breathed out shakily, his own body trembling in the need to provide, the need to protect and love.

He felt like he was drowning in you.

“Oh baby..” he cooed, muscular arms wrapping around your middle to lift you off and bring you back to the nest, your safe space and his home. He carried you tenderly, claws nowhere to be seen while his soft palms caressed your skin.

Jake laid you down above the fabrics, the cloths and clothes and the blankets that he chose, his own larger body hovering above you while your stomach churned in hunger. The feeling bubbling up and burning your throat, making you whimper in his hold as he shushed you softly.

He leaned down to your neck, pressing his nose right above your pulse point, each thump making his muscles relax as he flicked his tongue out— little beads of poison glittering that he licked down your skin.

The serpent kept moving, nuzzling your skin, kissing your collarbones, licking right above your breasts, nipping along your shoulders while his palm pressed on your lower stomach— right above your uterus where you felt a contraction pulse the moment his skin touched yours.

A gasp slipped out of you at the feeling, a sudden rush of heat washing down your body as you began gushing, folds soaking through your panties while Jake gazed at you in awe. “You’re already calling for me..” he was mesmerised.

“Your womb .. she’s calling for me again. She recognises me even more than I expected.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead right to the heat source, right between your hips, “I still have to prepare you more for me, love.”

“Still need you to be ready for me.. so you can take all of me.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, words of reassurance and calm spilling past his lips but there trickles of sweat on his temples, the tips of his claws almost fully appearing— and that’s when you noticed that Jake was holding himself back from you.

“Jake .. please.” You whimpered, weak hands curling around him as your hips began to ache in need, a soreness spreading from your throat, to your stomach that felt empty and down between your legs.. where you were practically twitching in desire.

Your nails dug into his muscles, “I need you right now, I need you.” Jake inhaled sharply, his own pants tightening around him, the way you looked at him— with the gentlest twinkle of tears in your eyes, lips wobbling when you begged him to give himself fully to you, to not restrain himself, not now and not ever.

But Jake couldn’t, you weren’t ready for him. He knew this and no matter how much it hurt him— he didn’t want to hurt you.

He’ll take all the needed time to prepare you, to prepare your body for him. So when the time does actually come, you’ll fully accept him instead of being in pain. He could never make you uncomfortable knowing that he was the cause.

“Sweetheart.. you know I can’t. Not yet.” He caressed your jaw, fingers featherlight as they went down your neck, you felt small tears drop slip down your temples that he didn’t hesitate to lick up, the sight of you almost making him whimper with the urge to just fully claim you, adore you and make you his.

“You’re not ready for me yet, little nest.” He mumbled against your skin, tone shaky like his words were hurting him. “but once you are— I promise I’ll never let you go a day without being filled of me. I promise I’ll always let you feel me in any way that you want. You’ll fully breathe me in.”

“But for now, I’ll just keep soothing you with my venom.” His lips were now returning to your neck, fangs peeking past his plump lips that became swollen from the kissing. “Ready, baby?” You nodded your head quickly, tears springing down your eyes fully in anticipation at him finally sedating you.

And then it happened— his fangs sunk right into your pulse point. The sharp tips puncturing your skin, your vein, venom instantly gushing inside of you making your blood flare.

You didn’t even have time to process the pain— the burning wound and sinking of his fangs, didn’t even have time to process the scream that it ripped out from your chest before you fell back to the mattress the moment his poison hit your blood stream directly. No longer being drunk from your throat, it was being injected.

And the feeling was making you intoxicated. Completely drunk in the matter of seconds as you mewled in euphoria, pleasure coursing through you, intensifying with every heart beat inside of you that rushed, picking up the pace when jake growled into your skin.

He moaned when your flavour hit his tongue. The serpent, though not one to crave blood, felt his head spin at yours. The crimson warmth that flushed into his mouth, he was drinking the life of you, the life of his mate.

Then you started to feel it— the more he drank, the more he took, the tighter his hands gripped your hips, the more you floated.

Slowly, faintly slipping out of the embrace of consciousness. Your eyelids became droopy, breaths slow and deep while your entire body relaxed.

Jake noticed all of it. He just venom-fed you into subspace.

The feeling of your body fully surrendering to him, to his scales, to his fangs and to his venom made him groan in satisfaction. You were giving him your complete all.

“That’s right, baby..” he muttered, mouth still so wet of you while you whimpered in his hold, so spent and so high on his poison. The sensation of him flooding you was so electrifying yet so soothing. It was like your entire body was waiting for this again, “go under for me.. just like that.”

Jake didn’t know it yet, but this version of you, so pliant, so unguarded was his favourite. He could protect you all he wanted, kiss you and caress you all he wanted all the while you trusted him just enough to let him do absolutely anything to you.

“Stay there for me, love.. I’ll take care of you.” And he did. His venom pulsed inside of you carefully, filling you up and making ecstasy rush through your entire body that fluttered in his hold. You let go entirely. Not a single thought, a single voice or a single breath in your head. Besides the warmth of his body and the stroke of his scaled tail around your calf. “I always will.”

With his arms wrapped protectively around you and his fangs snug inside of you— you slept in peace. Cradled in the most gentle hold that’s ever touched you, as if you were made of the most divine glass to bless Earth, and in Jake’s eyes of course you were, you were the most precious human he’s ever laid eyes on.

This bite— wasn’t just a simple feeding from him to you, it wasn’t just a bite. It was complete submission, it was dedication and it a confession. All this wasn’t for him, he already knew he had you wrapped around him just like the way he had his tail coiled around you, he knew he had a home in your soul in the same way you owned his.

But this was a mark of love, a promise to the bond that you both created. One that bridged your mortal heart to his serpent one, webbing in between and making them inseparable. And now, each pulse of your heart was connected to his. Each breath that you inhaled to your lungs, he exhaled them for you. Each thought that annoyed your mind, he fought it off for you.

This was past anything that you could’ve shared with another human, and way more exceptional than any mating he could’ve had with another hybrid. Because you were connecting two universe together with each moment you both breathed together— you connected a human to a snake.

A bond that flourished, that bloomed and went beyond any other previous love, relationship or marriage.

You had your soul tied to his now, and you both grew to adore this bond more day by day.

It happens without either of you knowing, without either of you catching on, but the connection grows.

Each night that you spend wrapped in his coils, the taste of his venom still fresh in your tongue and his claws retracted with his hand covering your waist protectively? It blooms.

With every shared breath, it pulses to life. With every exchanged kiss, it stirred like it was awakening— akin to an ancient flame, an ancient dream, a promise. Spoken only between the lips of a human and a serpent, but kept safe. Secure with your love and his scales.

Then it grew, it blossomed. A life formed between the two of you, a new breath that swelled over your relationship, your bond grew. Fully forming, fully developing and connecting you to him, body, mind, soul and heart.

It started off when you were in the den, an open book between your hands while you cuddled up against his hoodie in the nest. Jake was outside, he muttered something about hybrid meetings before disappearing behind the door.

And then you felt a tug— a push at your chest, heat building up but not the good kind, no. You felt angry.

Like something had agitated you, something pissed you off. Something that went wrong.

You sat up right on the bed, brows furrowed at confusion and the way your hands were almost twitching with fury. That’s when the door of your house slammed open, almost getting thrown off of its hinges.

In came Jake. Pupils slit entirely, almost appearing like a thin line as his emerald eyes were dim. Claws full unsheathed while his tail lashed behind him like a whip. He stormed inside of the place, steps heavy and mad.

“Jake..?” You called but his ears were ringing. He didn’t spot your figure walking into the living room, too busy pacing around the area while running his claws through his hair. “Did something happen at the meeting?” When your quiet, calm voice finally registered into his senses, he exhaled.

He breathed for the first time in hours.

An instant relief rushed through him— the same one that you felt as the bond now humming. In satisfaction, in relief at the proximity.

“No.. nothing happened, love. Nothing that you need to worry about.” Jake walked towards you, the anger in his posture fully dissipating when he inched closer and laid his palms on your hips. The touch making him melt against you. “It’s .. nothing serious.” He swallowed heavily.

But you already knew. You felt it.

Shaking your head, “Jake .. I know you’re angry because something went wrong.” Now his eyes were locked on you. “I don’t know what it is.. but it felt like something that you worked hard on was messed up. Like the frustration you get when your effort just goes to waste.” The serpent stilled.

“How did you.. figure all this out?”

“I don’t know, I just felt it.” He tilted his head.

You weren’t a hybrid that could pick up on scent changes, besides the fact that he did storm inside the house with his mannerisms screaming anger, you still knew too much.

“I felt your anger.” You added, your words now making his eyebrow arch while his claws grazed your skin just a tiny bit.

Inching closer, “I felt the way your frustration bloomed in your chest, the way your hands..” you lowered yours to hold onto his, thumb pressing gently against his palm, “the way they shook in anger.”

Jake exhaled shakily.

“I don’t know why, I think it’s this bond thing we have going on. But I truly felt everything like I was the one experiencing.” Your words— you simply didn’t know how much they weighed to jake.

You didn’t know that this was just more confirmation to him that you’re his mate. That the bond is settling in, fully connecting and spreading further into your lives. You felt his emotions when he wasn’t even near you.

Maybe you were unaware, or maybe you weren’t ready to face something like this. But you were already developing a sense of instinct for him. For your mate. This sense, had already existed in jake since he was born, it’s only that now it found its other half.

You were completing him without even knowing.

The bond was flourishing, roaring in love and devotion that only thrummed harder when your mate was close by.

He pressed his forehead to yours, all of his limbs felt relaxed. “It is the bond. You’re not just marked by me anymore, you’re mine and I’m yours. Emotions, thoughts and soul wise.”

“You feel what I feel. That’s how close we are now.” And you only blinked at him in awe, mesmerised by the bond and your creation— this special connection that you formed and developed with Jake with your bare hands, now made you exist within him the same way he will within you.

Over the days, it only blossomed more.

Your thoughts were no longer fully yours, they were sharing a space with Jake’s. And sometimes it was a bit too much.

“I wonder how our kids will look like..” “Jake.” He perked up, tongue flicking out nervously as he looked at you with his eyes widened. “Can you not wonder about our kids when I’m trying to read?” You could’ve sworn you felt just the lightest flush on the tips of his ears. “Sorry..”

“Will i be asking him too much if—“ you’re not even given the chance to continue before you feel a warm tail wrapping around your ankle. Holding you gently as his burly figure slithered behind you. “Never.” He hissed, “you’ll never ask for too much.”

But it was never just your thoughts. Jake started to feel the way you do as well.

Whenever you felt colder than usual, he would cuddle up next to you wordlessly. His scales tangling around you multiple times while he places a gentle kiss on your temple.

The one day you woke up craving something sweet for breakfast, he already had an entire plate of honeyed toast and waffles piling up next to chopped fruits. And he would feed the pieces to you one by one. Glued to your side as he nourished you right in front of his eyes.

With his closeness, the shared attachment and the continuous reaching out for each other, the bond was enchanted. It fluttered whenever the serpent touched a sensitive spot on your skin, buzzed when you kissed his neck.

It bent when he didn’t glance at you in hours. It coiled when you didn’t touch him for a night.

The connection was an indicator and a regulator of everything. Syncing your heartbeats, your thoughts, your souls.

It kept you bounded to jake. In all ways possible, you were his.

That’s why when you woke up one day, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen, a warmth burning your skin and an itch that you couldn’t drink away— jake was by your side before you even called for him.

Because he didn’t need you to be verbal about anything anymore, he felt it before you even spoke it.

The discomfort, the pain and shuddering when your entire body ached. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” Your voice was hushed when you curled in on yourself in the middle of his nest. Jake was on his knees next to you, slit pupils studying your every move— before the realisation dawned on him.

It wasn’t discomfort it was a tug.

It wasn’t pain it was a call.

“My body .. feels so wrong. It feels so odd.” Because it was ready. “Love..” the air from his lungs was knocked out the second you whimpered and he smelt it.

Like a carnal urge awakening, ripping its way to life within him— he picked up your scent, your need. Your arousal, sweet and addictive wafting through the air to his nose.

His split tongue uncontrollably flicked out to taste it, to taste the tiniest tinge of your nectarine in the air. And he groaned when he realised that you weren’t just ready— you were fertile for him. You tasted fertile.

“It’s not wrong.. or odd.” The serpent hissed, now climbing next to your curled body before his tail and arms engulfed you. “Your body is calling for me, little nest.” You grunted at his words, arousal gushing between your legs like flowing slick. “You’re ready for me.” And at that your legs instinctively opened.

Like a welcoming gesture, the warmth spreading between you both as Jake coiled himself around you, his massive arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close, grounding you. While the other slipped down your hips.

You moaned in relief when he mouthed at your shoulder, fingers dipping past your soaked underwear while the tip of his nose brushed right against your pulse point— and he nuzzled closer. Kissing, nipping, licking at your skin to scent you. Right above your heart beat.

“My pretty mate..” his claws were retracted, rough fingers toying with your folds making you gasp in his hold. “All ready for me.. finally calling for me.” The serpent felt delirious.

He felt the way that the desire that rushed through you, was stemming from the deepest parts of your soul. He was witnessing you naked. Completely bare for his eyes, searching and reaching towards him.

Towards the only person you know that will hold you, soothe you and protect you. Your mate.

Jake moved to hover above you, his tail now circling your hips with the tip stroking your lower stomach where the skin burned him. You looked up at him, pretty eyes glossy with expectancy, waiting when your body blazed with need.

And when you felt a pulse, a contraction blooming in your abdomen in pain— you whimpered his name. So soft, so broken and defenceless.

Jake crumbled entirely. All restraint and plans of being gentle with you in your first time evaporating away.

He needed you, and you need him right now.

“Shh— sweetheart, don’t worry. I’ve got you..” the serpent’s tail coiled around one of your thighs before pulling it towards his hips, opening you. His mouth latched onto your jaw, flicking his divided tongue along your skin while you shuddered under him. Gasps and sighs all falling from your lips as waves of relief washed down on you, the bond humming in satisfaction whenever jake touched you.

“I’ve got you.. your mate’s got you, already so sweet and ready for me..” Jake babbled on the lower his kisses went, plump lips already swollen trailing down your collarbone before he ripped apart your nightgown. Claws shredding the soft satin before settling above your flushed skin gently. So careful. “You’re all ready for me.. I can feel it.” He pressed his palm onto your lower stomach—

And he could’ve sworn he felt a throb. Right under his touch.

Jake couldn’t help the frenzied smile that etched on his features.

You groaned in pleasure when he pressed— applying light pressure, his pupils dilating when your scent sharpened. Sweetened. And the throbbing under his palm continued.

“There she is..” his voice was low, so low it sounded like he was purring. He leaned right next to your ear, akin to a predator taunting their prey, territorial and crazed. “There’s my favourite place.. pulsing for me.” He flicked his tongue out to taste you again. The need, the lust and the desire.

He pressed harder. “Feel that, angel? That’s you wanting me. That’s you being my mate.” Jake breathed in, inhaling your scent like it was his air— like he couldn’t live without it. “That’s where I’m gonna be at all times now. I’m going to keep you full. Here. Always.”

Your limbs were weak, the hunger now burning its way through your veins and lighting you on fire. Like a lava waiting just for the right moment to erupt inside of you, yet you only could whimper under jake. Could only look at him with tears in your eyes in hopes of him doing something.

The serpent then sensed everything.

The burn in your womb, the ache in your body, the warmth pooling between your legs— the bond convulsing with anticipation and jake was left gasping for breath. “Fuck.. baby, this is all for me? This is how you feel for me?” And you nodded because he wasn’t aware of the way he had you suffocating in his love. Wasn’t aware that you were drowning in him.

Now Jake didn’t want to do anything besides the exact same.

To cover and wrap and strangle himself with you. He suddenly lowered himself and finally kissed you.

The gasps and moans fell past your lips effortlessly, the kiss was anything but that. It was the two of you breathing one another in. Biting, licking, sucking with your teeth clashing. His spit instantly dribbled down your throat, the venom bursting in your tongue like it just sprung you back to life and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around the serpent’s neck to bring him closer, to take more.

Jake’s entire body was pressed against yours. His tail thrumming with his heart beat that pulsed wildly, smooth scales turning warmer by the second, you moaned into his mouth and he swallowed. “So pretty.. every pretty noise you make.. every pretty moan are all mine.” He bit on your lower lip, brushing his split ends while tears aligned your waterline, “just mine. Only mine.”

“Jake.. please,” your voice was barely audible, a small, broken sound between all his hissing. “I need you, really bad. It hurts.” Jake inhaled sharply,

And then he unleashed everything.

His hands, that were so gently caressing your skin, held onto your wrists and pinned them upwards. He pushed his body against yours, his tail pressing at your hips after coiling around once— trapping you under him.

The serpent hissed loudly. A light vibration rumbling in his chest that spread to your body, he began to rut into you. Hips rubbing and grinding mindlessly, you felt a poke— a pressure. Of something massive, warm, throbbing.

The size alone makes you choke a gasp out, jake smiled like he knew that you felt him. “Felt me, little nest? I’m gonna be inside you all the time now.” He whispered hotly into your skin. “Gonna let you crave me so much you’ll want me in all the time, everyday.” And you knew that he meant every word. Because Jake always kept his promises.

He loved the way your wetness seeped through his clothes to coat him. Loved the way you were so soaked and so eager to claim you couldn’t help yourself but do it even without him touching you. He wanted you to claim and mark him just as bad as he wanted to do it to you, and now was his chance to bring all his dreams to life.

While you were shuddering and gasping beneath him, his tail uncoiled.

The tip that once rested on your hip, inched closer to your middle— right before dipping under your panties.

You froze.

“Feel me, baby?” His tail thrusted deeper, your pussy tightened around his scales that soothed your walls. Pulsing, throbbing and so hot it felt like he was leaking inside of you. You sobbed when the stretch settled in, so wide it burned you from the inside out. Yet it felt so good. Especially when he pressed down his palm, feeling right where he was. “I’m right here, angel. I’m home.”

You squealed when his rough tip, now soft and swollen nuzzled right into your cervix opening. The small, pulsating rhythm of the beginning of your uterus throbbing at the contact. You sniffled as you weakly held onto him, body completely open and vulnerable at his mercy. “Jake.. a-are you sure this is okay—?” You sounded so shy. So bewildered at what he was doing to you, to your little pussy that could only stretch and drool around him.

The serpent laughed breathlessly. “Of course, baby. You’re taking me so well.. wrapping around my tail so nicely, look how pretty you look all open for me.” His praises fell off his lips like honey, Jake felt the way you clenched around his scales as he stretched you open. Your cunt dripping more and more each time he pulled back just the slightest bit before pushing his tail all the way back in.

Up until his swollen tip pressed against your cervix, and then began to pulse.

Your body twitched above the nest. Hips jerking forward when Jake didn’t pull back, he only throbbed right into your opening like his tail was kissing your cervix. “J-Jake.. what’s going on—“ “shhh Angel girl. Don’t worry about anything, let your mate prepare your pretty womb.” And then you felt the force, the pull.

The suction right against your tight ring of muscles. Like he was pulling your uterus down and making it bloom open at the same time— you felt the way your womb contracted right before dilating at his command.

And at the sensation of the hot, sticky and wet sucking, you thrashed in his hold. Your entire body felt like it was melting away while Jake wrapped his arms around you roughly, to keep you in place when you sobbed into his neck.

You felt so overwhelmed. The feeling was building up inside of you so rapidly, your heart thundered in your chest, struggling to keep up with everything that was happening.

From his whispered praises, sloppy mouth kissing and licking anywhere he could reach, the peak of his claws appearing every second just to dig and then disappear— and his tail. His tail that felt like it was splitting you as it sucked at your cervix, trembling as if to beg for your womb to let it inside. Everything felt debauched, so cruel yet so blissful.

“Gonna make your needy womb all open for me..” the serpent grunted breathlessly next to your ear, tongue flicking to lick the shell before he spoke again. “Get you all pretty and ready for me.. so you’ll be able to carry my clutch, baby.” You whimpered.

Throat hoarse from the consistent moaning and sobbing, eyelashes heavy from the unshed tears, the nest felt unbearable— yet it was also the only place you wanted to be in right now. The air so thick with his scent, with your slick and his wafting pheromones that floated away from his scales. Sweat clinging to both of your bodies, increasing the more his skin rubbed to yours.

Jake felt his senses slipping through his fingers, nostrils flared as he tried his best to inhale into his suffocating lungs. He could only feel you. Only breathe and sense you. His instincts flaring yet calming down at the same time, his thoughts incoherent as an ancient, a primitive hiss echoed through him. Like the serpent inside of Jake fully awakened this time.

With the intention to arouse, to stake, to coil around what’s his.

That was exactly what his body was moving to do before he was even aware of it. He felt so lost, so drunk and mindless with his hands gripping your hips to anchor himself. Yet nothing helped, he felt himself slipping further into the warmth, the engulfing embrace of lust and mating.

He wanted nothing more than to be connected to you in the most intimate way possible. His tail that cradled your cervix, the opening that fluttered around him like a blooming flower— latched on. Sucking and pulling like your womb was its only lifeline. Jake shuddered above you the more his body desperately pulled.

Your legs folded around his hips, pulling his tail even closer when your entire body yearned for him. Thirst amplifying by the second, your skin was feverish. Blazing with an entire layer of glistening sweat. You could no longer talk or speak— you left all the talking to your weak limbs that gripped onto the serpent like he was the only thing keeping secure, keeping you afloat above the sea of need that you both were drowning in.

It felt too intimate, too close, too much. You couldn’t breathe without his hot mouth touching you in some way, you felt your mind shut down the moment his hands would move from one place to another— and jake was weak.

His hands almost frail while his legs trembled. “Shit sweetheart.. you’re taking me in so well.” His tone airy, barely carrying the usual edge to it when he was melting on top of you. You could only flutter around his tail, your shyness still glowing and it made his heart lurch to his throat.

Then he moved his hand, one stayed anchored next to your head to steady himself while the other dipped low. He lowered himself to litter kisses down your neck, whispers of loving, sweet promises all spoken carefully to your skin only. Like it was a promise between him and your body alone.

Jake’s figure was restless. Twitchy, so sensitive. He felt something unfurling within him— something he wasn’t fully prepared for himself. And it excited him and terrified him at the same time.

The scratch of claws against his ribs, the graze of fangs against his throat. He was holding back his serpent from fully possessing him. Coming out and claiming, marking and hurting. Because that’s what his kind did.

It was driving him insane. But you looked so pretty under him.. writhing just from his tail that suckled on your womb like it was breathing air. A singular moment of break would mean that he would starve. His movements were all steady, stable. continuous.

Yet there was an urge to just dig his claws inside of you. To land his final touch and lay his clutch in your warmth— to fully possess you and change you. Witness the way your body will adapt to him.

The effect of him on you.

Jake tried his hardest to hold back, even if he was thrusting his tail inside of you like he was chasing his own high. Even if he felt the way you gushed and shuddered around him when your climax fluttered through you, he still attempted his best to tame his animalistic side.

But serpents were always stronger than humans. He could only do so much with his humane abilities—

That’s why he slipped his tail out in the blink of an eye, his pupils slitting to thin threads when a cry fell from your lips right before he flipped you over onto your stomach.

The serpent was wild. Claws now fully digging into your skin making you whimper in pain, his muscular chest pressed to your back. Pushing you towards the mattress while he held your hips, shifting them upwards to press against his own.

He was completely slipping. Fangs bared, venom dripping down his throat. A deadly glint in his as his breaths came out shallow. The mortal cuffs he had forced upon himself melting entirely when a painful throb spread right from under his abdomen—

From right below his waistline, where his slit slowly folded open to allow his erect cock to slither from behind his iridescent scales— he was massive. Awakened and excited. Way past the average human size, tip a primal red while his base flushed gently with the same gleaming dark emerald of his scales.

And he was leaking so much you would’ve thought that it was his climax instead. Pretty, opaline with infused venom ropes of cum drizzled past his length. Dripping onto the fabrics of the nest when he pressed the head of his cock to your sopping entrance.

He felt absolutely feral. His hands trembling, attempting his best to keep him steady while he teased your cunt. The serpent’s mouth was unable to detach from your body, “mine mine mine..” he whispered with his eyes half lidded, drowning in desire.

“All mine.. my pretty mate, my little nest.” He spoke, wrapping one of his hands around your neck. Fully thrusting inside of you. “There we go..” and you were panting.

He was so big, so deep. “J-jake.. please slow down—“ he paused.

Length throbbing, flaring between her stretched walls. “You want me to slow down.. when she’s been waiting for me?” Jake mocked.

His grip on your jaw tightened, sharp nails indenting your skin. “How could I possibly do that, baby?” Now his voice was softer. Desperate, wet with the leaking venom from his fangs. He talked like he was guilt tripping you, like he couldn’t believe that you wanted him to slow down. Like it hurt.

“Just a little bit— don’t stop, m’not asking you to..” the serpent exhaled heavily, continuing to sheath himself inside of you. “You don’t get what you do to me, baby..”

“You dont get what I want to do to you right now..” his voice was unlike his. Something dark, something ferocious spoke from within him. Thick with malice, webbed in the impulse to ruin.

And you were the victim. You were the chosen one to take. The thought alone made you shiver beneath him, goosebumps appearing making the animal behind you chuckle in amusement.

“Scared?” Jake snarled right next to your ear. Smiling when more tears slipped past your eyes— from the adrenaline that dug into your heart, the swirled combination of fear and excitement— terror and arousal. “No need to be scared, baby.. I’m just here to take care of you.”

He whispered like he was trying to distract you. Like his words could conceal the burn, the unbearable stretch of his serpent cock that thrusted inside of you.

You gasped wordlessly, back arching when fresh tears aligned along your jaw. Every single inch of your body felt electrified while you felt almost suffocated. “Breathe.” Jake growled.

Fangs brushing your ear. You struggled, you felt consumed. Undertaken by a dizzying fog of pleasure and euphoria— so strong it numbed you. “Breathe baby..” this time his thumbs pressed right above your jugular vein making you choke.

“J-jake—! S’too much— too deep—!” “But baby you’re taking it so well though..” you cried when his hand creeped to close just lightly around your mouth. “Listen to her, angel.” And you did. The wet, noisy and obscene sounds of your pussy clenching around him when he thrusted, pulling his hips back for a slight second— only letting you feel his tip before shoving his cock inside of your cunt that squirted in relief. “How am I supposed to slow down when this is how you sound for me?”

He trembled behind you. Legs twitching with his pelvis pressing flush into you. “You’re taking your mate too good, sweetness..” the pleasure creeped right up his spine, the sensation making him guttered. “Too good, baby.. you’re driving me insane.”

So soft, so warm. Searingly hot. Your entire body flushed under him, womb pulsing as the head of his swollen cock kept kissing it, pulling it and pushing it like it loved toying with your deepest, most sacred part. His favourite part.

All the while his hovering figure leaned down lower and lower. Until he had his front pressed to your back. Each breath that left his lungs fanned around your skin. His tongue flicked out to taste the thick air. It tasted so abundant with your flavours.

“You’re all mine, angel.. only mine. Just mine. My pretty mate that I’ll love and fill forever.” With each word he pushed more. He stayed inside more. Each time making your limbs melt further above the nest. Everything felt so good— a spell that he spoke in an unknown, ancient language that only he knew the gravity of before blowing it towards you.

He had you fully under his control. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t speak. You barely could move. You were unable to do anything— and for some reason it felt nice.

It was comforting to have his weight pinning you down. Comforting to know that no matter how much your needy cervix ached, he’ll always be there to kiss it better.

It made you feel so safe. So protected and cared for when your mate worshipped you like you were the only religion he knew. The only one he believed in and the only one he saw.

With each stroke of his slick cock that spilled heat inside of you, it felt like your walls were hugging him back. So intimately holding him close even the serpent exhaled shakily at being so accepted— so loved.

Jake then picked up the pace, the slow, deep thrusts shifting into more brutal ones— untamed and beast-like. You mewled into the feathery pillow. So weak compared to the uncontrollable hissing behind you.

Your pussy sucked him in, cervix moulding around his tip the more he teased it. “Feel me here, baby? Doesn’t it feel good to have me here?” And he pressed on your lower stomach. Caressing the bulge of his viper cock that massaged your insides, he felt every flutter, every vein and every ridge while you cried, so overwhelmed.

“F-fuck yes—! I love it, I love it so much— I love how deep you are in me, jakey—“ you babbled, drunk. Wholly under the altered cloud of pleasure he always manages to form around your head. Jake growled at your tone, so airy. He could practically taste how high on his love you were. “Yeah, baby? I’m gonna be here all the time now. Gonna keep your greedy cunt stuffed of me.” His claws glowed, fangs almost vibrating in instinct.

Mark. Claim. Bite. Ruin.

And Jake sunk his teeth right into your shoulder blade, the sensation instantly making you unravel around him as you milked his cock that burned. His hips snapping against you wildly while your arousal drizzled down onto the nest, ruining everything just like the way you were right now.

Sobbing, vision spotted with your ears ringing as Jake fucked you through your orgasm before pulling another one out of you. Your womb was convulsing. Contractions washing down on your body so painfully yet the waves of ecstasy were stronger.

The serpent then injected his venom into you again. The flush of the sweetness bursting in your veins from the hidden hunger. The unknown crave that just got settled, Jake groaned at your taste once again. Your blood tasted even more saccharine when it was engulfed by your orgasm.

You crashed. Over and over again. His length relentless as it rammed inside of you, fucking into all of your sweet spots that made your body jerk under Jake. “That’s it, isn’t it angel?” He breathed heavily when you squealed right as his hips pressed to you in a certain angle— “that’s your sweet, baby spot. Isn’t it? I’m going to worship it.” And he did.

His tip nursed from it. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. The knot in your abdomen no longer formed— you were stuck in a constant state of falling apart while your womb milked his cock even more.

It felt like your body had a mind of its own. So needy, so desperate that no matter how much your mind practically shut down it didn’t care. It was addicted, attached, dependent.

And Jake loved it. He loved the way your pussy was wrapped around him. Tightly, possessively. Unwilling to let go whenever he pulled back— you were claiming him back. Your body was dragging its marks on him, etching its way into his very own skin with the way his cock was tight with desire. The need to unleash and finally paint your insides with him.

So he kept going, because he couldn’t think. He couldn’t process anything. He only felt the pulses, felt the tugging, felt the constant edging of something ready to release, prepared to snap.

“I’m gonna fill you up so well, sweetheart.” The snake hissed, his hand now moving to cradle your lower belly. Where he was going to make you swell with him. His tail coiled behind him, body building in anticipation while his fangs teased your open wound. Where he could still taste you on his tongue.

“Stuff you so full you’ll be leaking of me for weeks. You’ll feel me every time you move.” You shivered at his words. Not because you were scared— but because of how you felt a drop. The lowering of your cervix as it opened more, like a second starved mouth, like it wanted to be stuffed. It wanted to be filled with your mate’s seed.

And when your muscles fluttered around his cock’s head he cooed. “Oh angel.. your pretty womb is just as needy for me as I am for her.” His hand now pressed harder and he felt your uterus flutter back at his touch. “I’ll soothe her.. I’ll satisfy her. Always.”

You couldn’t help the way your body arched further into the bed— hips shifting to allow him to go even deeper while your face was buried into the pillow now. You were still inviting him in even when he was drowning in you.

“P-please.. don’t let me be empty.” And that sentence alone broke Jake.

Then you heard the aftermath— it wasn’t a moan, it wasn’t a gasp, it wasn’t something human.

It was a vibration. One that started from the tip of his tail to the top of his head— a click and then a rattle. A heavy, snapping noise that came deep from within his guts. He was released.

“You want to be filled up with me?” The voice that spoke from behind you wasn’t Jake. The moment you froze in shock— walls clenching in surprise when you turned around and saw him different.

His pupils were in their thinnest form, emerald irises glowing brightly in the dim nest. Fangs fully dropped and dripping with venom that fell atop your lower back, right before melting and being drunk by your skin. His scales were fluttering, a dusty green covering the tips of the ones that emerged around his shoulders and neck, down to his forearms.

He looked wickedly frightening. He looked monstrous.

And somehow that made you want him even more.

“I’ll break you.” His tone was a fusion between a hiss and a deep, heavy rumbling that came from the depths of his chest. “I’ll ruin you completely. I will crawl inside of you and alter you. Just like I did with my venom, just like how you belong to me now.” His words, his mouth dripped with venom.

It scared you. Fuck, it terrified you. Yet you still couldn’t find it in yourself to move away, to escape from the beast behind you. The one that was buried so deep inside of you while you tightened around him, pouring at every word he growled at you.

You couldn’t help the way you pushed yourself back under him— the way you pushed your pelvis back against his, and he laughed.

A guttural, dangerous laughter that made more poison spill out from his mouth. “You want me to claim you just as bad as I do.. you want me to take your soul.” And you nodded.

You agreed because you couldn’t function anymore. You couldn’t imagine, couldn’t think about any possibility or life that doesn’t revolve around your serpent. You couldn’t do it, your mind refused to conjure up any image of you that didn’t have scales. That didn’t have venom marks. That didn’t have chilling split pupils.

Because your own body depended on him now. It responded to him, it recognised him, it knew him. You were marked, you were owned.

You had already given him your heart and body, it was only a matter of time before he sunk his fangs around your soul as well.

And you would allow it, because you knew you were safe. You knew that your mate would make the sky fall above the grass to keep you warm and protected between his arms.

Even if he had you away from the world, even if his voice became the only one that you knew, his eyes the only ones you saw and his body the only one you felt, you would never pick another over him.

You could never not choose him. You could never live without your mate.

And Jake claimed everything. His thrusts turned animalistic. Like he was ravaging your guts, scarring your insides to only accept him. His claws sunk back into your hips, deep and unforgiving. Any time your figure jerked forward— moved the slightest bit from under him— he would drag you back.

Because under him is where you belonged now. “Don’t try to run from me, pretty.” His tail, still coated with your wetness brushed your calf. “You and I both know you can’t go anywhere.”

The scales circled you, they engulfed you in coils. From around your hips, between your legs, up your waist and finally resting around your neck— right before he squeezed.

“Jake!” You cried, heart ramming into your ribs when you felt your lungs burn with need of air. The serpent kept his coils unmoving, applying the slightest pressure. “Shh, love. You’re safe, I’ll never hurt you.” Your tired hands desperately held onto the cooling scales, where you could sense each breath he took.

With his cock still nestled so deep inside of your weeping womb, he turned your face around with his clawed hand. “If you want air, you can breathe me in.” And before you could utter another word— he shoved his tongue into your parted lips.

Both of you groaned at the familiar taste, the familiar feeling and stretch of his forked split ends that instantly latched onto the back of your throat. He thrusted inside of you again, cock tightening in a way that you felt it from the heavy release he kept pushing back.

Jake hummed when you moaned around his tongue, your eyes closing in euphoria at his venom streaming down your throat while his length split you open. You felt more aches of pleasure branching into your body, endless climaxes and orgasms all knotting together as your mind floated.

“There you go.. keep floating for me, baby. Stay under my venom.” And you did, you took everything he gave you. The warm, filling poison and the hot ropes of precum that he buried inside of you. “Doing so well for me.. you deserve to be filled so good.” He muttered around your mouth before suckling on your muscle like a baby.

The serpent retracted his tongue, he babbled as he felt the heat building up in his cool blooded body, his legs twitching, tail fluttering around you the closer he inched towards his climax before it broke— and it shattered him entirely.

He snarled so loudly, the noise shaking out of his ribs when his limbs tensed, scales vibrating as he came inside of you.

But he didn’t cum like you normally expected, it wasn’t a few ropes of his warm seed— it was a flood.

A blazing hot, endless liquid that bursted inside of you. Making you cry at the feeling of the stream, of the overflow. He kept hissing in pleasure, wrapped up in a storm of mouth watering thrill that coursed through him, intensifying when your womb constricted— like it was drinking him up, filling your uterus with all he gave.

You were sobbing against the pillow now, covered in a sticky pool of wetness, of arousal and his flooding that didn’t decrease— and then you felt a poke. “There it is..” it was a swell.

A consistent rising, a bump that formed right around his base that was being pushed inside of you now.

Inside of your gushing entrance that clenched in surprise— in shock when you screamed at the ceaseless stretch. The fresh burn, the boiling warmth of his knot as it sunk into you. All the while Jake kept kissing you through it, shushing you and mumbling words into your ear.

“You can take it.. you’re almost there.” His voice was tender now, after his release the viper somewhat softened. You shook under him as your cunt drooled around the new intrusion, much similar to the saliva that dripped out of your mouth.

And then a final pop! That signalled him fully sheathing himself in. Locking him to you with his seed almost sloshing inside of your swollen stomach. The skin on your belly tight and stretched just the slightest bit at the flood.

Jake was in awe.

His clawed hands that were covered in your drool and your indents hovered around your belly, you were so full of him.. so stuffed just from carrying his seed. “You look divine, love.” He kissed right into the wound he had his fangs in just a few minutes ago.

You shuddered at his featherlight touch. A whirling contrast from his predatory hold. Yet you still melted under his fingertips, still floating and relaxed for him.

“Looking so pretty.. just from my seed alone.” His palm pressed against the swell, “wonder how you’ll look like when you carry my clutch.” At those words, you whimpered—

“I want it..” the serpent stiffened. “I want to carry your clutch, Jake.” Jake’s expression changed.

It became unreadable, you were too embarrassed to look at him, your face still covered by the pillowcase, still sensitive. “Baby.. do you realise what you’re asking for?” And before you could even answer, he felt a throb.

Much similar to the one before he bred you, much similar to the one he already memorised— the one of your womb.

Calling for him once again, even when he had just flooded her. She was still greedy. Still wanted more.

Jake smiled.

“Is that so..” he purred, knot swelling down, the bulge slowly slipping out of you. Allowing his gaze to take in the sight of your gaping pussy— still tightening around nothing, still pulsing, still hungry even when she was dripping in him.

You whined at the emptiness, the coldness that wrapped around your womb now that Jake’s cock wasn’t cradling it— the neediness from your body made the serpent sigh in love. “Still want me so bad.. still wanting my clutch.” His hands trailed down your sides that twitched beautifully under his touch.

He then carefully moved you, laying you gently on your back. His tail unfurled from around you slightly, it still hovered next to your hips. He distanced himself just enough to let you breathe.

“I’ll give you my clutch.” Jake whispered right as he looked into your eyes. Half lidded and sparkling with unshed tears that prickled at his heart. “I’ll give you everything that I have.” He leaned down to press the lightest kiss on your lips. Mouths barely touching when his plump lips brushed your swollen ones.

His claws had fully vanished, hands carefully steadying your thighs to wrap around him once more as he slid in between your legs, this time his cock appeared thicker— erect and leaking but swollen. Heavy, loaded.

The sight alone made you salivate. “You’re so.. full,”

“I’ll let it out. I will let it out inside of you.. I’ll make it easy for you.. I’ll make it feel good.” The serpent hissed into your lips, breath hot and heavy as the steam in the nest practically bubbled. The windows were foggy, the room thick and layered with his scent, his pheromones and your arousal.

And then he sank into you once more— this time easier, this time sliding between your slippery walls that gushed around him in welcome. Jake shivered above you, mouth agape while you moaned right into his lips.

The sounds that formed from his cock nudging inside of you were filthy. So nasty, so wet it made your whole body burn. Your hands finally finding the strength to wrap around his wrists on either side of your head just to stabilise yourself.

“She’s so greedy.. she’s sucking me in so well, baby. You’re so needy for me.” Jake whined as his hips worked restlessly, chasing his high when his swollen cock— filled with his clutch caressed your inside, their new home. “I’m gonna give you my babies.. you’ll carry and protect them. You’ll be such a great mama to our babies.” He muttered before dipping his head into the curve of your neck, right where your blood still drizzled in thick droplets.

Your womb quivered with each thrust, every stroke pulling a breath out of your lungs before he sank in so deep his head latched onto your cervix again. “There we go..” Jake’s words were slurred, you were limp above the nest. Slumped under him while he almost evaporated. So intoxicated on the feeling of your walls milking him, so obsessed with how warm your body felt because of him.

And then Jake felt the first drop.. the first swell that indicated his egg lowering. He pressed his hips flush against yours, the head of his cock fully nursing onto your cervix when you felt the shift— the weight, the round sphere that was moving to be inside of you.

“Just like that.. take it, love. Take it and keep it safe.” It finally sunk inside of you, round and weighted. The sensation so new, so intimate as it slipped past him— right into the opening of your cervix that sucked the egg in. Shielding and protecting it in your womb, making you sigh in relief at the sheer relief of carrying his weight— of carrying him.

But then there was another swell.. another drop. “I-is that another—?” “Yes— fuck i have more to give, I always have more to give when it comes to you.” His pelvis jerked into yours, saliva dripping out of his mouth like water as his slit pupils rolled into the back of his head, the feeling burned him from the inside out, blazed his abdomen in ecstatic fire. “Take it, baby. Take all of them from me.”

This time you cried when it pressed into your cervix, the muscles fluttering softly before sucking the egg right next to the other one. The weight increasing in your womb made your legs shake, another release building up even when your body felt so sore. Your pussy still twitching with Jake deep inside of you.

“Last one, little nest. You can take it, I know you can.” The serpent mouthed at your skin, tongue flicking to lick along your cheek, to catch the slipping tears that fell when your stomach felt so full. So heavy and tight already but he was still giving you more.

His palm pressed against the swell, the forming bump of his clutch being protected by you. Being nourished and nurtured inside of you. His instincts flared, the final egg slipping slowly, the heaviest and largest of the bunch— “f-fuck.. we’re almost there, sweetheart. You’re almost full of me.” Jake sobbed into your neck.

His serpent body overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy, by the intensity of the love he held for you. The weight of acceptance, of you wanting him back. All crashing down on him as he stuffed you with his final egg, the bulge of it making you both gasp as the stretch ripped a release from you, so deep, so carnal.

“That’s it baby.. you did it. You’re carrying my soul now.” He spoke tearfully into your mouth, still so close to you. Still buried deep inside of you, his tip remained nuzzled against your cervix that fully closed now. Fulfilled and satisfied.

The serpent’s palm rested against your stomach, it felt warm. Soft with you now holding him, nestling his babies inside the most precious part of you. “You look so beautiful.. all mine. Just mine, so full of me.” Jake worshipped your body.

Tail caressing the underside of your belly while the snake moved towards you, laying next to your body before cradling you against him. All his instincts telling him to protect. To shield.

You hummed in content. So spent, so tired and so bred. Your heart’s pace finally calming down when you cuddled closer to Jake’s warmth. The serpent’s tongue flicked out to touch your neck, your shoulders, just to scent you again. To surround you with him completely while you carry his clutch.

“Sleep now my little nest. I’ll protect you and our babies.” His whisper fluttered with love, your eyes already closing the second he began to purr for you. Soft vibrations calming your nerves while his scales coiled around you protectively, his palm resting above your lower stomach.

“All mine.” The serpent hissed quietly before closing his eyes.

a,n. holy fucking shit it’s finally done. thanks for reading this fever dream 🫶🏼 & feedback is greatly appreciated ! ♡

[fierce-little-miana]

Love writing the synopsis for that short story: I sound positively insane.

[meowmewmews]

𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

minors don’t interact!!!!! 18+ only mature content under tab

synopsis : sol was obsessed with you the moment he laid eyes on you. you were his soulmate. he’d make sure no one else would touch you. he is the only one who can satisfy you. don’t you know that?

warnings : yandere, masturbation, obsessive behavior, stalking, somnophilia, cnc, dubcon, predatory behavior, smut, long word count, drugging, grinding, penetration, very rough sex, whiny submissive Sol at one point, and dominant Sol at another point.

author’s note : if you just want to read smut skip to sections with the 🍋 icon

long word count (11.7k+ words) i mean this might as well be split into different chapters but i don’t want to do that, also i decided to change him referring to you as pumpkin to something else sorry. gave him a tongue piercing because it sounded fun >:3 also i hate tumblr formatting so read on ao3 if you want . (gloomy_kitty)

also not 100% lore accurate

thanksss to my friend who proofread this for me!!

Sol was obsessed with you and had been since you first arrived at the school. The moment his scarlet eyes landed on you something strange was awakened within him. It felt like love at first sight—no it was love at first sight. Did you remember your first encounter? No, it was so long ago you probably hadn’t. He did though, he remembered how he felt so vividly. His heart pounded in his chest, butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and his breath hitched making it difficult to breath the moment he had seen you. That cute library assistant that worked on campus. He remembered how he had walked up to you at the counter, asking for a book for class. How you went out of your way to help him find it, not complaining a single time.

“You absolutely need this book for your class right?” You asked him, sighing in defeat after nearly an hour of searching the library.

“Yes, but if you can’t find it don’t w-“ Sol began, a bit irritated that this was required for his passing grade. But he’d just ordered it online and prayed it arrived on time before finals.

“No. I know we have it. Don’t worry I’ll find it. Just give me another day. Here write down your info and I’ll give you a call once I do.” You said determinedly, sliding a sticky note and pen towards him. “O..okay.” He mumbled and wrote down his information. He fully expected you to not ever find the book or just forget to call him to let him know of your findings. But the very next morning he received a call from an unknown number. “Hello?” He answered.

“Hi this ______ from the school’s library. I found the book you were looking for. It’s reserved at the front desk. If I’m not here just let whoever is at the counter know your name.” You said, he could tell that you were quite happy.

Sol’s eyes widened in shock, you really found it. He responded back with a simple thanks and during a free period he went to the library. There he saw you shelving away books, a content expression on your face. Awkwardly he walked up to you clearing his throat, when he realized you had an earbud in. You jumped in surprise, dropping the book you were holding. Then, at the same time you and Sol reached down to grab the book. Your hand on top of his for a brief second before you pulled away. It felt like a bolt of electricity shot through him. “Whoops! Oh hey you’re the guy from yesterday!” You laughed quietly as he handed you back the book. With that you checked him out reminding him that late fees would occur if he didn’t bring it back on time. You explained how you stayed over an hour after your shift to find what he was needing, then it turned out it was in the completely wrong genre! A historical book tucked away with comics, how egregious!

When Sol asked why you did that you shrugged, simply saying, “I don't want anyone to fail their first semester because I was too lazy to find a book for them. It’s my job after all.” You flashed him a smile. As you handed it over your fingers brushed over him for another brief moment. That same electric feeling coursed through his body. It was that moment something had awakened inside Sol. He was obsessed now.

That memory played in his head for over a year, he had found out your first name. One day when sitting in the library “studying” he overheard you telling a blonde girl about how excited you were for your art class in the fall then you explained what period it would be. Since there was only one introduction to art class that fall semester for the period before lunch, he was going to enroll in art class regardless so might as well make sure he was in yours. Everything had been planned out. Sol didn’t leave any detail forgotten.

He got to class early, sitting in the back of the classroom. He placed his backpack on the chair next to him and anyone he tried to sit next to he glared at, causing them to scurry away. Now he just needed to wait for you to arrive, you’d have to take the only available seat open next to him in a full class.

Like he planned There were no more seats left in class, you had arrived a bit late, only barely beating the bell. He watched as your eyes darted around the classroom looking for somewhere to sit, then a relief look washed over your cute face when you spotted the open seat next to him. Quickly you made your way over pulling out the chair, “Is this taken?” You asked him, already beginning to slip off your backpack.

“N..no.” Sol replied avoiding your gaze, he was focused on his sketchbook, his pencil tapping against the book as he tried to control his breathing. “Oh thank god.” You sighed in relief, finally taking your seat. Rummaging through your backpack you pulled out all the essentials you’d need for art class. It worked. His plan went perfectly!

Sol found it difficult to concentrate on the professor’s words as he discussed basic art fundamentals, he just kept glancing over at you. Your perfume smelled so intoxicating, it drove him wild. The way you studiously jotted down notes was so adorable. Then class ended much to the man’s horror, he hadn’t written down a single thing but most importantly you gathered your things to leave without saying a word to him. He lingered in the classroom a bit, slowly shoving his sketchbook back into his backpack.

A couple days passed before he could see you again, and the whole time he found it difficult to think about anything else other than you. Sol was a bit angry at himself for not even speaking to you, that was his chance to reintroduce himself. He would talk to you next time, he promised himself.

The next class came and you were once again in the same predicament as last time. Arrived to class right before the bell went off and the only seat opened was next to the same guy as before. Not that you minded, he seemed nice enough. “Hey.” You greeted him quietly as you sat down before taking a seat. “Hi.” He returned your greeting quietly. He once again didn’t speak to you and that cycle went on for some time, before finally he had an excuse for the two of you to speak. He wasn’t sure why he kept shying away from you. Shit, he could barely even concentrate in class.

Then the next class came. “Everyone, please pair up with the person beside you, I want you and your partner to discuss today’s chapter.” The professor mumbled as he took a seat back down at his desk, immediately kicking his feet onto the desk and tapping away on his phone.

Turning around with a sigh you looked at your partner with a smile, “Hi. Thanks for always saving me a seat. I’m ______.” You introduced yourself, then gave the dark haired man an encouraging nod to speak. I know what your name is. He thought. Sol rubbed the back of his neck, nervously avoiding your eyes, his gaze fixated to the side. “Yeah it’s no problem. I’m..Sol.” He introduced himself back, hoping that maybe you remembered him.

“Nice to meet you, Sol.” You chimed in reply, holding your hand out. He looked at your hand, then back at you before he shook your hand back. “Yeah, same.” He said, a small smile making its way to his pierced lips. The moment your hands touched, he felt his heart do a leap, and without meaning to he held onto your hand for a bit longer than usual. Though upon realizing that, he quickly pulled his hand away. Either you didn’t mind or just didn’t notice it, as you immediately turned your attention back to the textbook. So you didn’t remember him, that was okay it’s not like he ever went out of his way to speak to you at the library.

“So, this chapter…” you began as you pushed the textbook to the center of the table so you both could share. Sol didn’t speak too much, he was more interested in what you had to say, he nodded attentively and hummed in acknowledgment when he agreed with something you said. The professor didn’t seem too interested in teaching class, so the reminder was spent just conversing. You giggled as Sol said something as you playfully slapped his arm, “What, no way? You did not!” You quietly exclaimed as Sol told you a story. He nodded, “Yeah I really did. It’s embarrassing but it’s the truth.” He laughed softly. Every single fucking thing was so adorable about you; your name, laugh, appearance, personality, every single thing was so adorable. Then just as Sol was about to open his mouth to speak again, the bell rang.

Jumping up in your seat, you pushed the chair back, quickly gathering your belongings. “I gotta go, Sol. But you’ll save me a seat again right? I really enjoyed talking to you.” You asked, looking at him with the cutest expression. “Yeah of course.” He reassured you. “Thanks, you’re the best!” You said and with that, you rushed out of the classroom.

As Sol finished gathering his own belongings, he noticed something sitting on your chair. Your jacket was left behind. He grabbed it and quickly walked out of the classroom to see if he could catch up to you, but of course you were nowhere to be seen. ‘I’ll hold onto it. Give it to her next class.’ He thought to himself.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Woah, that's a cute jacket! You seeing a cute girl?” Hyugo asked his friend. The pair sat at their usual spot on the rooftop eating their lunches. Sol rolled his eyes, “No. The girl who sits next to me in art left it, I’m going to give it to her next class. I just didn’t want it to get lost.” He explained as he continued to eat. He could bring it to you at the library where you worked part time but no, he just wanted to hold onto a bit longer. It was a cute jacket, he couldn’t lie - it was black with striped sleeves and an adorable black cat patch was ironed onto the front. It suited you perfectly.

“Aren’t you so sweet?” Hyugo teased, causing his friend’s face to heat up. Sol grumbled under his breath as he just ignored the comment and continued to eat, only causing the other to laugh. As the bell rang, signaling that their final class of the day would begin and marking the end of their lunch break, the pair stood up. Sol gathered the bento boxes, placing them in his backpack.

“Are you doing anything after class?” Hyugo asked before they parted ways. Sol wasn’t, but he needed to spend some time alone, there was an issue he needed to take care of. “Yeah.” He simply responded. “Aw okay, I’ll just go to the arcade by myself then.” He shrugged before walking off.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

It was dark already when Sol arrived back to his small studio apartment, the short winter days meant it would always be night when he got home. The dark haired man sat his bag on a chair, taking out the bentos to wash. He remembered your jacket was still in his hands, so carefully he placed it on the top of the couch. And so he did his usual evening routine; cleaning dishes, cooking dinner and lunch. The television was playing a show he really had no interest in watching, but it was good background noise.

But he just couldn’t stop thinking about you, eyes flicking to the jacket on the sofa as he prepared his and Hyugo’s lunches. Sol felt the crotch of his pants tighten uncomfortably against him, he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as his heart rate accelerated. But he remained focused just hurrying to finish dinner as soon as possible so he could shower and lay in bed. Tomorrow was early classes after all.

Finally after some time Sol had showered and flopped onto his bed, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. He closed his eyes as he tried to focus on anything other than you. But his boxers were so incredibly tight, his erection wouldn’t go away no matter what he tried to do. It felt wrong to touch himself to you, so resisting the urge Sol finally fell asleep. Tonight at least he was able to resist the urge.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 🍋

The next day of classes came and nothing extraordinary happened. Sol couldn’t spot you anywhere, he supposed he would have to wait until tomorrow to see you and return the jacket. His evening routine was more or less the same, but as he laid in bed tonight, the urges were getting harder and harder to resist.

Sol tried to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to think of anything else other than the raging erection in his pants right now. His gaze kept flickering to your jacket, he was reminded of how amazing you smelled. He just wanted to smell the perfume again, there was no harm in that…right? Quickly getting out of bed, he snatched your jacket from the couch, immediately pressing it to his nose. Oh god, you smelled so fucking good. He was intoxicated by the scent, his eyes rolling back as he took in your smell, and without even realizing what was happening, his hands trailed down his torso until they slipped under the waistband of his boxers. His long slender fingers immediately wrapped themselves around his erection.

Sol began to pump his cock, a whimper leaving him as his thumb grazed over his tip. Precum was already pooling at the slit, his face still buried in your cute jacket. He could only imagine what it would feel like to have his face buried in your hair, neck…your pussy. He fantasized how amazing you would taste as his face was between your thighs, he’d make you feel so good. He had wanted you for so long now.

“_____…._______….” Sol whimpered your name, scarlet eyes fluttering shut as his pace quickened. At this point he was panting heavily, a complete mess and if your mere scent was doing this to him, he couldn’t imagine how he’d act during the actual act. His cock twitched in his hand and legs trembled; he collapsed onto his knees. He was now thrusting himself eagerly into the palm of his hands, precum lubricating his cock. Sol’s moans echoed throughout the apartment and he felt the warm sensation building up in his core, then with one final thrust he came loudly. “Oh fuck ______!” He cried out, his cum making an absolute mess of his boxers.

Riding out his orgasm he finally came to a stop and dropped the jacket onto the floor. His chest moving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, the whole of his body was a hue of red and warm to the touch. Dark hair sticking to his face from the beads of sweat that had formed. He made sure to toss your jacket onto the couch before he removed his hand from his boxers. A wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over him when he saw sticky cum coating his hand. I shouldn’t have done that. It felt so good though. He thought with a sigh as he stood to his feet. I should go wash up.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Class was the next day, and that meant Sol could finally see you, he could return your jacket. He waited until after class, when you both were in the hallway. A part of him debated on not giving it back, he wanted it forever, to always have you with him, but he decided against it and it was worth it. The look on your face when he had handed you your jacket back was worth it. “Oh my gosh, Sol. I was so worried I had lost my favorite jacket forever. Thank you so much!” You exclaimed as you hugged him briefly, before you slipped it back on. “Yeah..of course. I tried looking for you yesterday to return it but I couldn’t find you anywhere.” He explained. A tinge of red evident on his pale features as he was reminded of what he did the night before with it. He violated your poor jacket, but of course he would never tell you that.

You shook your head, waving your hand dismissively, “Sorry about that! I was in such a rush to leave. My other job needed me to cover a shift.” You explained. You had another job besides the library?

But he didn’t mind; he was just glad he could keep your jacket safe from anyone else. Fumbling in the pocket of your pants you pulled out your cell phone, “We should exchange numbers! Just in case one of us needs to get into contact with each other.” You suggested, swiping your finger across to unlock the device. He watched as you typed away on the screen before handing it to him.

Sol’s heart was beating so quickly now, you were really asking for his number? He looked a bit uncomfortable, like he was rejecting your offer, because you began to pull away your phone looking at the floor embarrassedly. “S-sorry. I shouldn’t ha-“ you began but he cut you off, gently snatching the phone from your hand. And within seconds he typed in his number, he already noticed you made a contact name for him. Sol ☀️

But something else caught his attention as he felt the phone vibrate in his hand.

Crowe 🐦‍⬛ : You’re still coming over tonight, right?

Something inside of the dark haired man awakened when he saw that text. He froze in place, his blush that tinted his features now went away. Who the hell is Crowe? He thought bitterly. Your boyfriend or a coworker? He only snapped out of his thoughts when you retrieved your phone back, your thumbs danced across the screen then he felt his pocket vibrate.

“Did you get it?” You asked curiously, tilting your head so cutely to the side. “L-let me check.” Sol quickly said and pulled out his phone. His boring black phone background was illuminated with your text.

Unknown: hii! it’s ______ :D

Without a moment of hesitation he saved your contact. ______ 🌙

His contact was saved with a sun by his name so it only made sense that you were the moon. With that, you two said your goodbyes and Sol watched as you walked down the hall, he stood in his spot with a small smile on his lips.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

It was the weekend which meant Sol would do his weekly cleaning of his apartment. Loud music echoed throughout the apartment as he cleaned, humming softly to himself. Something caught his eye as he was vacuuming under the couch, a small piece of rectangular plastic glittered as it caught the light from the ceiling fan. Crouching, he picked it up and his eyes widened instantly when he realized what it was. Your ID had fallen out from the pocket of your jacket, he assumed. And all of your information was on it.

“______ ______..” Sol whispered your full name. He didn't know what it was before. Your address was there too, and it looked recent, judging from the picture and expiration date. The card shook ever so slightly in his fingers as he was practically salivating that he would now be able to find so many more things about you.

Halting his cleaning for the day, he shut off the music and instantly opened up his laptop to begin searching your name online. Hours had passed, day turned into night. Sol’s scarlet red irises were glazed over, his lips dry and mouth a bit parched. He hadn’t left his laptop screen in hours, too engrossed with finding out every single detail about you. Your social media wasn’t private, how foolish of you. And he scrolled through the dozens of pictures you had posted, finding out everyone you associated it with. The page refreshed and a new picture was posted. You are with a group of people at what looked like a bar, with the caption: Love my friends!! Tonight was so fun, let’s do it again!! :D

Sol remembered the text from this “Crowe” earlier and he began to examine the picture, trying to find out who this Crowe was. His eyes narrowed when he saw the man next to you in the picture. A long haired brunette with tan skin, he swore he had seen that face before. This Crowe was behind your frame, hands resting on either of your shoulders. To anyone else they would have assumed that you and the man were friends, nothing in the pose indicated anything romantic, but to Sol it was too much. He didn’t want to see another man behind you touching you like that. Standing up he slammed his laptop shut and decided he needed to go to bed before he got too consumed by his jealousy and anger.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 🍋

As days turned into weeks, then eventually into months, Sol and you grew closer. You were regularly texting and hanging out. He had found out that your lunches consisted of junk food, and that was even if you brought lunch to campus. So he decided to start prepping your lunches, and even dinners as soon as he found out you ate cup noodles nearly every night. God, you were cute albeit a bit useless, he didn’t mind cooking for you, it only made him feel wanted - and the look on your face every time you ate his meals just made him filled with so much joy.

You were so kind and introduced him to your friend group, Crowe was kind enough and he kept his hands off of you in Sol’s presence. But he knew that man looked familiar, and Crowe looked at him with suspicious eyes and a fake smile. Sol only remained cordial with your friends though, if they made you happy he’d pretend to be friendly with them. But the man never returned your ID, it was his now. You complained about having to buy a new one, but he made sure to slip some extra cash into your backpack one day when you weren’t looking. The text he received that night was so adorable. “Omg Sol I found some cash at the bottom of my backpack. I’m eating good tonight! >:3”

It was so worth it. But Sol had a dirty secret that he couldn’t tell a living soul. He was slipping sleeping medication into the dinners he made you, he made a copy of your apartment key, and he was letting himself into your home every night. It was all in an attempt to make sure you were safe!

“My neighborhood is so unsafe. I really need to find somewhere else to live. There’s been so many recent break ins and assaults, and I live at ground level.” He remembered you complaining.

“You can stay at my place, _______. It’s a decent neighborhood. Lots of old people, so it’s quiet.” He offered.

“Sol! No, I can't do that. You already do enough for me. I got new locks on everything and alarms.” You retorted with a pout. He knew you wouldn’t change your mind, you weren’t that type of girl. You were independent, but that was okay. Sol would still keep an eye on you. Knowing you kept a spare key hidden away, he found it and while you were at work he had a copy made, then placed the key back without you being none the wiser.

Tonight wasn’t any different, Sol waited until you were asleep and he slipped into your quiet, dark apartment. He could navigate your home in the dark. That's how familiar he was with the layout, but the dim street lights also did aid him. Your bedroom door was slightly ajar and he quickly made his way in.

The streetlights illuminated your room, he saw your sleeping form on the bed, one hand hanging off the side of the bed and your blankets messily thrown on top of your body. In fact, the blankets barely covered any of your body. You wore an oversized t-shirt and the cutest panties - the shirt was raised and exposed your bare torso. “Were you waiting for me dear?” He whispered as he knelt down at your bedside. Folding his hands on the edge of the bed, he rested his chin on top, his gaze was so loving - but there was something so dark about the way he looked at you. Raising a hand up, Sol’s slender fingers brushed aside the hair on your face. “So cute…” he breathed out.

You shifted, your eyes squeezing shut as a quiet groan left your lips. When you moved through, your shirt lifted just a bit more, revealing your breast partially. Sol felt his face grow warm and he tried to avert his gaze, but it was like you were practically begging for him, looking so cute and innocent. He choked back a moan as he felt his dick get hard, his fingers wrapped around the wrist of your limp hand and he placed his cheek into your warm palm. His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a content sigh, “You're asking me to do something, huh dear?” He mumbled. That had to be it or why else were you wearing such an outfit is that why you left your bedroom door opened? You were inviting him in, right?

Sol leaned down to press a kiss to your exposed neck, he nibbled softly at the skin. A quiet whimper escaping you as your brows furrowed. So cute. He thought, still nipping at the skin, leaving a faint red mark. His hand trailed down your neck until his fingers reached your breast, he gently massaged it for a brief moment. Another quiet whimper came from you. He let your hand that was cupping his cheek fall onto the bed for a moment, as his fingers fumbled with the belt of his pants and with a swift motion his dick was out. Already hard from anticipation, he positioned himself in your hands, he laced both your and his fingers together. He let out a moan feeling your fingers wrapped around his dick.

His whole body shuddered in pleasure at the feeling, and he buried his face between your breasts to quiet his moans as he began to rock his hips back and forth. His sensitive tip fucked your palm as he moaned out your name from between your breasts. Tears pooling at the corner of his closed eyes as pathetic needy whimpers left him.

“You’re mine. Mine..you’re mine ______. I love you so much.” He cried as he felt himself about to cum. Then, with another thrust he came hard into your and his laced hands. As he calmed his breathing down he slowly lifted his head up, you were still asleep, oblivious to the lewd act he just made you do. “You’re so beautiful, dear. You feel so perfect.” He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

Standing up he pulled his pants back on, then walked to the bathroom to wash his sticky hands. Grabbing a rag he wet, he walked back to clean up the mess he left on your hands. “Crowe..the paper...” you mumbled in your sleep. Sol’s scarlet eyes widened in shock at the name, why were you talking about him when he was right here. His fists clenched and eyes narrowed, a dark cloud casting over his face. “You really ought to stop talking about him, dear. Crowe doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t understand you like I do.” He hissed through gritted teeth. You were just confused - that’s okay, Sol was patient. He leaned down to press a kiss against your lips once again before wishing you a good night. With that, he quietly slipped out of your apartment.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The final day of class before winter break came the next day. You and Sol sat in art class together, sketching your final assignment. The classroom was quiet as everyone worked. You kept glancing at the dark haired man next you, a faint blush on your face as you remembered the brief dream you had of him last night. You dreamt that he was having sex with you, you heard his moans as he fucked you. Then, just before the dream actually got good, your mind decided that all of a sudden you were going to dream about you and Crowe finishing up your finals paper for English class that you had done earlier yesterday. God! Why did his stupid pretty face have to ruin the best dream you ever had!

Class couldn’t end any sooner and the Professor motioned for everyone to turn in their assignments. He reminded the students to check their emails during the winter break to see their grades. You quickly stood out of your seat, the chair nearly falling back as you fumbled with putting your things away. Sol noticed that something was off about you, you wouldn’t look at him at all. Surely you didn’t know what he did with you last night, right? He slung his backpack over his shoulder as he watched you as you zipped up your backpack. “Want to go to the arcade?” He asked you suddenly, “Hyugo and I are going since classes ended early today. Like right now.” He added.

Snapping your head up, you actually looked at him for the first time today. Your eyes meeting his, “O-oh…umm. I’d love to but I don’t have any…money.” You mumbled, voice trailing off at the end. “Campus library let go of all the part timers a few weeks ago, remember? And my other job cut my hours. So it’s tight right now.” You sighed sadly. “I wasn’t asking you to pay. I just asked if you wanted to come with us?” He said.

Sol noticed a strand of hair hanging in front of your face so reached a gentle hand up to brush it aside, tucking the strand behind your ear. “I’ll pay. You know I’ll always take care of you, ______.” He reminded you with a kind smile that made your heart flutter. It was something he always told you, you weren’t sure why he was so kind to you when you had nothing to offer him in return. You were a broke college student who couldn’t even cook your own meals. A faint blush dusted your cheeks as you shyly looked away, “O..okay. Then yes, I want to go.” You shyly said as you tugged at the sleeves of your favorite jacket.

“Alright, good. Here I’ll carry your bag. Hyugo should be waiting at the entrance.” Sol said, taking your bag from you with a swift motion. You tried to protest but he was already walking ahead so you were more focused on catching up to him.

The walk to the arcade didn’t take long, but you were shivering from the cold winter breeze. Sol noticed you shivering and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you close to him. You looked up at him before looking away shyly. Once inside the arcade, the three of you played games for some time. You pointed at a claw machine, wanting to win the cute cat plushie, you tapped at the glass before looking back up at Sol with big pleading eyes. “Aw, it's so cute. Do we have enough coins to win it?” You asked excitedly. Sol patted his pockets and sighed, shaking his head. “No, but I can go get some more if you’d like?” He asked, he just wanted to see you happy.

Hyugo nodded, “Yeah let’s play some more games! Oh, let’s get some food too. I’m starving!” He exclaimed, nudging Sol’s side. Sol looked at you, waiting for your answer. “That sounds good to me. While you two do that, I’m going to head to the bathroom. I’ll meet you back here.” You said. The pair nodded and with that you went your separate ways.

You found the restroom. It was located in the back of the arcade and once done, you hummed quietly as you made your way back to the claw machine with the plushie you wanted. But you unbeknownst drew unwanted attention to yourself; you hadn’t even stepped a few feet back out of the bathroom when you were immediately cornered by a much taller and bigger man than yourself. He backed you in between two large pinball machines, leaving you trapped. “Hey sexy. You got a boyfriend?” He slurred, it was obvious he was drunk. He had both of his arms on either side of your head so you could barely move. “Not interested.” You spat as you tried pushing him away, but to no avail. That seemed to only anger him more as he lowered his face to be at eye level with you. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll treat you nicely.” He said, though this time his voice was much darker. The stench of alcohol lingered with every breath he took. You turned your face to the side, but that seemed to only anger him and this time he grabbed your jaw roughly in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t turn away, sweetheart. Just come on let me sh—“ he began, but suddenly his hand was ripped away from your face and you closed your eyes, fully expecting to get hit. You heard shouting and skin hitting skin, you still kept your eyes shut, flinching with every sound. The noise of the arcade was too loud and you slid down the wall, covering your face with your hands as you buried your face against your knees.

“Don’t you fucking touch her! I’ll kill you!” You heard a familiar voice shout, it was then you uncovered your face and your eyes widened in shock as you saw Sol fighting with the man, both with bloody noses. Hyugo pulled Sol away while a random person held back the other man. The two men were still shouting curses at one another, though you were so overwhelmed you could barely understand what they were saying. You noticed Hyugo was having trouble holding back Sol, so you quickly scrambled to your feet and stepped in front of the dark haired man, pressing your hands against his chest. “Sol! *Enough!*” you pleaded, tears forming in your eyes. The drunk man had lost his balance at some point and fell to the floor, but he was still threatening you and Sol. The man called you every name in the book, and he was mocking you - but you didn’t care. You just wanted to get out of here. There was a terrifying look in Sol’s scarlet eyes and it turned your blood cold. “Sol *please,* let’s just go.” You pleaded with him once again.

As soon as Sol heard your voice waver, he stopped and his eyes widened in a mixture of horror and guilt as he realized that you were crying. He cupped your face in his hands, shaking his head, “No, no, no. Please don’t cry. I’m done. We can go.” He said in a panic, “He didn’t hurt you, right? He didn’t touch you?” He asked. You shook your head, “No. I’m okay.” You reassured him, just wanting to leave. Your lip quivered as you looked up at him and you simply nodded, taking his hand in yours as you dragged him out of the arcade. Though when Sol was certain you weren’t looking, he turned back to the man and spat at him before he followed you out.

Once outside you wiped your tears away with your jacket sleeve, smearing your makeup a bit in the process, but you didn’t care. You didn’t dare let go of Sol’s hand, afraid that if you did he would turn back and actually kill the man. Hyugo sighed, rubbing his temples, “We should leave before the cops get called.” He mumbled. Sol clicked his tongue in annoyance, “We didn’t do anything wrong. That low life touched ______. I just defended her.” He spat back. You tugged Sol’s hand, “I want to go home.” You sniffled. “I’ll walk her home. You go ahead, Hyugo.” He said. The blue haired man raised a brow, by the way he looked at his friend you sensed that maybe he didn’t want to leave him alone. “You’ll call right? As soon as you dropped ______ off at home?” He asked, his brows furrowing.

Sol had already wrapped his arm around your waist, your and his backpack slung over his shoulders. “Yeah, I will. See you later.” He said pulling you along to walk off in the other direction. Hyugo just nodded watching as you two walked off.

Sol didn’t let go of your waist for the whole walk home, he held you protectively, glaring at anyone who looked in your general direction. Once you arrived back at your apartment you fished around in your jacket pocket for your keys, eventually finding them and unlocking the door. “Do..do you want to come in?” You asked Sol shyly. You were really inviting him inside! He felt his heart skip a beat and he swallowed nervously, “Sure.” He smiled and stepped inside after you, setting down the bags onto a stool by the door.

You untied your sneakers and left them at the door before you looked up at the tall man. “Do you want tea? Coffee?” You asked him.

“What do you want? I can start the water.” He asked you back.

“Tea sounds good. Something relaxing.” You replied, motioning him to follow you into the kitchen. You poured water into the electric kettle on the countertop as you reached into the cabinets to grab two cups. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to change real quick.” You smiled before walking off towards your bedroom to change. Sol already knew where everything was located, so he grabbed two tea bags, setting them into the ceramic mugs as he waited for the water to boil. Then a thought ran through his mind as his hand absentmindedly rested on his front pocket. You didn’t get to eat the dinner he made you for tonight which meant you wouldn’t sleep well.

So before the water was done boiling he pulled out a small bag in his pocket, and broke apart the sleeping pill, letting it dissolve in the hot water. He just wanted to make sure that you’d be able to sleep tonight was all.

When you walked back out of your room, your tea was already made and Sol was sipping on his as he leaned against the wall. He looked at your outfit, did you wear something like that on purpose to tease him? You wore tight shorts, a tank top, your favorite jacket unzipped, and the cutest bunny shaped slippers. “Thank you so much, Sol.” You smiled at him as you held the mug in your hands and slowly sipped on it. He nodded, “Of course. Anything for you.” He said returning your smile. You chatted with him for a while it was obvious that you were just stalling, you didn’t want him to leave. You were still shaken up from earlier, from both how Sol reacted and to what may have happened if he wasn’t there to save you from that man.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 🍋

You sat on the couch, legs crossed as some random show played quietly in the background. Sol sat across from you, you both had long finished your tea. He could tell you were getting a bit more sluggish, “I’m sleepy, Sol.” You yawned. “You should go..it’s getting late. Hyugo is probably worried about you.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your sleeve. Sol frowned, “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I want to make sure that you’re okay.” He replied back, he didn’t want to leave you alone.

“I’m okay. I just don’t want to be alone..” you sniffled. “I think someone has been breaking into my house.” You then said, flicking your gaze up to look at him with a worried expression. Sol froze, his breath hitched in his throat. “W..what? Why do you think that?” He asked, trying to remain calm. Folding your hands together in your lap, your eyes darted around before landing back on him, “Sometimes things are out of place.” Is all you said, “So please don’t leave me alone.” You then pleaded, suddenly leaning over towards him on all fours.

Sol’s eyes flickered to your face and to the gap between your shirt, he could see you weren’t wearing a bra and he shifted awkwardly in his spot on the couch as he tried to remaining eye contact with you. Placing a hand over his crotch, he let out a cough, a dark red blush making its way to his pale features. “Okay. I won’t. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” He responded, a look of desperation in his eyes. You smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach when he said those words. Then your mind wandered back to the dream you had last night, you sat back legs now folded underneath you.

“Can you come lay down with me in bed?” You asked him, looking away shyly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stay up much longer. Plus it’s more comfortable than staying out here.” You added. Sol found it hard to even speak now, he nodded and bit his lip. You stood up and began to walk towards your bedroom, turning off the lights along the way. Before you rounded the corner you noticed that he was still sitting on the couch, “Are you coming? You don’t have—“ you began only to be cut off by him springing up, “I am.” He mumbled shyly as he followed you into your familiar bedroom.

Your bedsheets were messily strewn about on your bed, like always. Clothes tossed haphazardly throughout the room, he watched as you shrugged off your jacket, tossing it on the vanity chair and you kicked off your slippers. You crawled into bed, pulling the sheets over your cold body. “What do you usually wear to sleep, Sol?” You asked him curiously, waiting for him to come lay down as yet another yawn left you.

“My..boxers.” Sol replied shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your cute gaze. “You can sleep like that here. I don’t mind.” You mumbled motioning with your hand for him to come lay down. “A-are you sure?” He stammered, already unbuckling his belt, his hands shaking a bit in anticipation. “Mhm.” You hummed reassuringly, squeezing your legs together tightly. Sol wasted no time in taking off his clothes, it was a shame the room was so dimly lit so you couldn’t see him. He sat at the edge of the bed, still unsure of what he needed to do.

You tugged at his wrist, “Lay down with me. Under the blankets.” You encouraged him in a sleepy voice. He let you pull him down onto the bed, his heart was racing so fast he found it hard to breathe. As you both now laid under the covers he could feel your body heat, you were so close to him. Your bed wasn’t big by any means, so your bodies were practically touching. “I really like you, Sol.” You suddenly said, you weren’t sure why you blurted that out, maybe it was your drowsy drugged state that made you say something you didn’t mean to.

Sol’s eyes widened in shock as he turned his head to face you. He could make out your soft features from the dim city streetlights that peaked through the curtains. Your hand now was on his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was beating. “You take care of me. You’re so kind. I’ve never had anybody care for me like you do.” You mumbled, leaning over until your noses touched.

Sol raised a shaking hand to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I’ll always take care of you, ______. I’ll be here. No matter what.” He whispered back. His words were so kind and gentle, yet there was darkness in which he spoke. You blushed and looked away, your eyes closing shut as you finally closed the distance between your lips. You were a bit unsure on how to kiss him, not wanting to mess with his lip rings too much, but as soon as your lips met something clicked inside the raven haired man.

He returned your kiss desperately, not wanting to stop. Were you really doing this? Was this seriously happening?! He thought. It was a shame you were half asleep, but it still didn’t stop you from your next move. You rolled onto of him, your legs straddling his waist as you cupped his face in your hands, kissing him with inexperience. It wasn’t like Sol minded though, he was also just as inexperienced. His hands were on your waist, fingernails digging into your soft skin as he let out a needy whimper when he felt you grinding against his dick.

“Do you like me, Sol?” You asked him, breaking away from the kiss for a few moments as you continued to grind against him. When he took too long to answer you paused and lifted yourself up about to get up. Feeling utterly rejected by him, humiliated. But his hands slammed you back down on top of him. A crazed look on his face, “Y-yes I do. I like you. You’re my soulmate, ______.” He desperately spoke, his eyes flickering trying to read your expression. All you heard was “yes”, as you began to fade in and out of consciousness, despite desperately trying to stay awake.

“G..good.” You mumbled against his lips, beginning to grind against him again as you cupped his face. Sol returned your kisses as he let out whiny moans of your name, begging you for more. He wanted to feel your pussy, god knows how long he had waited to fuck you. His hands let go of your hips and now tugged at the waistband of his boxers. He managed to slip them off and when he felt how wet your panties were a pathetic whimper left his lips. He pushed your panties aside and now he could really feel how wet your pussy was. His dick pushed between your folds, you shivered as you felt his tip slide over your clit. “S-sol.” You whimpered his name.

Oh god, just you saying his name so lewdly was almost enough to push him over the edge. “A-ah.” He cried out as he felt your pace quicken. He loved the way you were using him, like he was nothing more than a toy for you to hump to reach your orgasm. The head of his dick was so sensitive and he felt your clit rubbing against it. “I..I’m gonna cum.” He warned you. Sol’s fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs as he bucked his hips upward. “I-I wanna fuck you…please. Feel your pussy…please.” He begged, biting your lip. But you ignored him continuing to grind against his hard dick as your moans became a bit louder, your thighs shaking. You could feel yourself about to cum, but Sol suddenly let out a yell. “A-ah ahh ______.” He cried as his hot cum shot out. He threw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as tears pooled in the corner of them, his back arched, and fingernails scratching your thighs enough to leave a mark and draw some blood. His body shook under yours.

You felt the warm sensation rising from your core, your clit becoming more sensitive by the seconds. Sol’s thick cum now providing more lubrication. His whimpering of your name and pleading was enough to push you over the edge and moments later you joined him in his orgasm. You cried out his name as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him tightly as you rode out your orgasm. Honestly you weren’t sure if you were or not, your mind was so hazy. Then you suddenly came to a stop, your body shaking a bit as your eyes closed shut.

Sol caught his breath, his hands rubbed up and down your back and he realized you had fallen asleep. The medicine had taken its full effect. He wrapped his arms tightly around you pressing a kiss on top of your head a content smile on his lips. “You’re mine. Mine…you’ll never have to be alone again.” He mumbled against your hair. His scarlet eyes gazing at the ceiling as you were fast asleep against his chest. At some point he fell asleep still holding onto you, with his dick between your thighs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You had awoken the next morning a bit groggy, you realized you were in bed with someone and you stared down in horror as you realized that you had slept with Sol. You only remembered bits and pieces of the nights before, and your sticky panties confirmed that you two had been intimate in some way. You wiggled out of his strong arms as quietly as you could and rushed to the bathroom, grabbing your phone careful to not wake him up.

After you cleaned yourself up and changed, you sat on the ledge of the bathtub typing away rapidly on your phone.

Crowe I NEED YOU NOW!!!!

What’s up? You okay?

NOOO. I think I just messed up. I think I ruined a friendship.

Woah calm down, ______. Is this about him?

YES. Can we meet up at the cafe? Please. Right now.

Yes. I’ll be there in a few.

Thanks.

With that you clicked your phone shut and quickly got dressed into your clothes from yesterday, not wanting to disturb Sol’s sleep. You peeked into your room and still saw him resting. You left the house getting your wallet and keys and tossing them into your jacket.

Sol woke up not long after you had left the house and when he didn’t feel your presence he immediately shot up in bed, panic beginning to set in. Where were you?! He grabbed his phone getting ready to dial your number when he saw a text appear on the screen.

I’ll be back soon. :3

He calmed down a bit, laying the phone in his lap as he ran a hand through his messy hair. Why didn’t you tell him you had somewhere to go? Why would you leave alone in the morning after everything that had happened last night? It was then he felt a bit angry, wondering why you were sneaking around. Snatching his phone back up he called you but you kept ignoring his calls, finally though you answered.

“Hello.” Your voice came through on the other end, there was also another voice on the other end too. It was one he recognized. It was Crowe. He felt himself grow even more angry as jealousy filled him. Why the hell are you with him?!

“Who are you with?” Sol asked, his voice as sickly sweet.

“Shhhh be quiet. Yeah, hi Sol, I’m with a friend. Don’t worry, I’ll be back home soon.” He heard you shushing Crowe. His grip tightened on the phone, if he squeezed any harder he may have shattered the screen. “When will you be back? Where are you?” He asked, this time his tone wasn’t as sweet.

“Sol…please don’t worry about it. I promise I’ll be back home soon. I gotta go.” You reassured him before hanging up.

Sol was furious, he slammed the phone face down onto the night stand, the glass screen shattering. Why is he interfering? Why does she keep hanging out with him? Doesn’t he know ______’s mine?! So many jealous thoughts flowed through his head as he quickly got dressed. He freshened himself up before he left your apartment, storming on the busy streets. What you hadn’t known was that Sol had installed a tracker on your phone many nights ago. He was really trying to give you the chance to tell him where you were without having to resort to using the tracker, but you wouldn’t tell him. He had no other choice but to use it, and make sure you were okay. He had to make sure that filthy Crowe wasn’t touching you. And he needed to show the brunet who you belonged to.

It was a rainy day and he didn’t care if he got wet, he was determined to find out where you were. The tracker led him to a busy coffee shop where he saw you and Crowe sitting near the window. His scarlet eyes met bright blue ones, belonging to the last person he wanted to see. Sol’s eyes narrowed, and all the brunet did was return a sly smirk before mouthing something to you. You whipped your head around just as Sol stormed into the coffee shop, immediately making his way to the table you two sat at. He tried to maintain his composure, his chest rising with every deep breath he took as he glared at the man sitting across from you.

“Sol? H-How did you know I was here?” You asked him in shock. He ignored your question continuing to glare daggers at Crowe, who sipped on his coffee nonchalantly. “Hey there. Care to join us?” He asked with a polite smile, motioning with his hand to the available seat.

“No. ______, we’re going home. Now.” Sol demanded, now turning to look at you. He grabbed your wrist and you tried to jerk away, “Ow, Sol!” You cried out, which caused him to immediately drop your hand. “Are you okay?” He asked, his angry expression now etched into worry. You frowned, rubbing your wrist, “Y..yeah. I told you I’d be gone later. Please stop this.” You pleaded, looking at him with big eyes.

“You should be gentle with her, Sol.” Crowe scolded half heartedly. “______, you should go. Don’t keep him waiting. We can talk soon, I have to get to work anyways.” He smiled warmly at you.

“But I—“ you stammered, but the brunet cut you off with a wave. “Seriously, it’s fine. Just remember what we talked about, okay?” He winked, it was purposeful, he was trying to get under Sol’s skin and it was working.

Sol grabbed your wrist a bit more gently this time as you stood up, “We’re leaving. Bye.” He spat, glaring at the man as he dragged you out of the coffee shop. All the while Crowe watched with furrowed brows and a forced smile. He didn’t like Sol, he didn’t like him at all. But whatever made you happy, he’d tolerate.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 🍋

Sol was dragging you down the street as you squirmed under his tight grasp on your wrist. The whole time you demanded to know what had gotten into him! This wasn’t the Sol you knew. Ever since the arcade, you noticed a sudden shift in his personality, it was instantaneous. As you two arrived back at your apartment, he shoved you inside with a forceful hand, slamming and locking the door shut. “What the hell is wrong with you, Sol?!” You screamed at him as you tossed your phone, keys, and wallet onto the kitchen counter.

Sol’s eyes were narrowed still as he walked towards you, instinctively you stumbled backwards until you found yourself with your back pinned against the wall with nowhere to go. His tall frame towering above you. “What’s wrong with me? You’re the one sneaking around with that bastard.” He hissed as he slammed his palms on either side of your head, pinning you between his arms. “I’ve tolerated him long enough. Doesn’t he know you belong to me?! I’m the one that’s caring for you and protecting you. While he does nothing.” He snapped angrily.

You cowered beneath him, beginning to grow a bit scared, “Y-you’re scaring me, Sol.” You whimpered. He clicked his tongue in annoyance; he didn’t like you pretending to be innocent in all of this. Perhaps you and that bastard needed reminding of who you belonged to. Sol crashed his lips against yours roughly, you felt his tongue trace the bottom of your lip. But when you were tightening your lips together to deny him, he bit your lip causing your lips to part open in surprise and with that his pierced tongue forced its way into your mouth. One hand on your jaw forcing your head to tilt up. You tasted like coffee and sugar, he didn’t mind at all though. It suited you.

You cried against him. He was being so forceful it was terrifying. He pulled away panting heavily, a string of saliva connecting your and his lips. His hand was still firmly holding your chin. “I don’t think you realize, dear. That you’re mine. No one else can have you. Ever. I won’t allow it.” He muttered. He noticed that your eyes were watery and a sympathetic smile made its way to his pierced lips. “Aww..please don’t cry, baby. I don’t want to make you cry. I promise I’ll make you feel good. You just need to be reminded that you’re mine.” He said in a gentle voice as his thumb wiped away your tears.

“I’m scared.” You whimpered.

Sol leaned down to press a much more gentle kiss to your lips, “You won’t be for long. You’ll be feeling so good in a minute.” He purred and with that he picked you up holding you so gently in his arms bridal style as he continued to kiss your lips. Once inside the bedroom he tossed you onto the bed and hovered over you beginning to tug at the waistband of your pants. “N-no Sol.” You whined but your arousal said otherwise. The truth was you were so turned on by him. You had wanted him in this way for so long.

Sol ignored your pleas and within a couple minutes he had you stripped of your clothes. You laid on your back on the bed as you looked at his nearly naked body, he stood only in his boxers. And now with the sun peeking through the blinds basking the room in a bright light you saw just how big Sol was. His body was well toned, just perfect. You saw the erection in his pants and you swallowed nervously at just how big he was. You weren’t sure if he was even fully hard yet.

You didn’t get to stare at him for too long though as he got to his knees, kneeling in front of your legs. “I’m going to make you feel so good dear. You won’t ever think of anyone else but me.” He said it almost came out as a warning. His slender hands pushed your legs apart and the look of pure lust was on his face. You tried to cover yourself up with your hands but he wouldn’t let you. “So pretty.” He whispered. God, he dreamt for so long to be buried between your thighs eating you out.

You jumped when you felt Sol’s tongue licking your pussy, the muscle dragging slowly between the slit. You felt the cold metal piercing drag along sending a shiver up your spine. He let out a moan as he tasted you. God, you tasted better than he could have ever imagined. He pushed your legs further apart and spread open your pussy, you squirmed a bit at being so exposed. Your hands balled up the fabric of the bed sheet beneath you as you felt the ball of his piercing roll over your clit, causing you to let out a loud moan. You knew you messed up when you gave him that reaction, because he immediately began to suck at your sensitive clit, rolling his piercing over it every single time causing you to moan louder. His tongue moving from teasing your clit to probing your wet hole. He wanted to taste every bit of you, this was pure bliss for the raven haired man.

“So good.” Sol praised. It was hard to focus as he sucked the sensitive bud, your head spinning as your legs quivered. He wouldn’t let you close your legs, no matter how much you tried. His tongue worked so expertly, he knew exactly how to get you whimpering under him. “Sol!” You yelped when you felt his tongue enter you, causing your hips to buck and your back to arch. It was such a strange feeling but god it felt so good. He was trying to fuck you with his tongue. Your hands tangled in his dark loose hair as you tilted his head back up to focus on your clit. “I-I’m gonna..” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as the warm sensation began to build more and more. Your breathing became more frantic and with another roll of his pierced tongue against your clit, your legs closed, Sol’s face still between your thighs as you held him there cumming all over his face. You were practically screaming his name as he continued to suck on your overstimulated clit. You begged him to stop, so he did and instead decided to clean you up.

Sol’s tongue lapped up every last bit of your juices, you tasted so amazing. He was drunk off of your scent—taste. Everything about you drove him crazy. He could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs, licking your pussy and letting you cum all over his face. He was yours to use. “N-no more. Please.” You begged, your body falling limp.

Sol gave you one last taste, his tongue swiping up the full length of your pussy before he sat up. He licked his wet lips, “See..I’m the only one who can make you feel this good, dear.” He said matter of factly. He stood up pulling down his boxers revealing his hard dick. When you looked at him you nearly choked on your own spit. How the hell were you supposed to take him? He hadn’t stretched you out with his fingers to prepare you. “I-I can’t take you without—“ you began. But Sol leaned forward kissing you, shutting you up. “It’s okay. I’ll be slow.” He mumbled against your lips.

His tall frame towered above you, it was so intimidating, the way he looked at you with half lidded eyes and a small smile on his face. His arms were on either side of you pinning you between him. You felt the tip of his dick poke at your entrance. Sol continued to gently kiss you as he pushed himself inside you, he let out quiet whimpers as slowly filled you up. His body shuddered at the sensation, your tight pussy was everything he had ever dreamed off. “Fuck…oh god you feel so good, ______.” He moaned as he sat up now. Placing his hands on your inner thighs, he spread your legs apart as far as he could without hurting you. He wanted to see how well you took him.

Inch by inch Sol sank into you, it was agonizing how slow he went but by the look on his face he was savoring every moment. He was panting quietly trying to control himself, he did want to hear his soulmate after all. You squirmed under his strong grasp as he filled you up beyond belief. You weren’t ready to take him, he was so big it hurt. “S-Sol.” You cried, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you felt the tip hit deep inside, causing you to flinch in pain.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so well, dear.” He praised you. And without warning Sol snapped his hips back and slammed back into you, causing you to yelp. He couldn’t resist himself as he began to roughly fuck you. His fingernails digging into the soft skin of your thighs and quiet moans left him. He stayed quiet because he wanted to hear your sweet sounds.

He watched the face you made as every single time he hit that sweet spot of your pussy. The way your lips parted as you moaned his name and the how your back arched as he fucked you. The way your breasts bounced up and down with each thrust. He noticed the creamy white ring forming on the base of his cock. You felt so perfect, it was as if..”We were made for each other, ______.” He whispered. Sol let go your thighs, confident that you’d keep your legs spread out. He now cupped your breasts, fingertips lightly teasing your perked nipples as he watched you shudder under his touch.

Sol frowned, “Something’s missing.” He said in between pants as he continued to relentlessly fuck you. His pace was not slowing down at all, you were exhausted already, your pussy ached from how hard he was slamming into you. You weren’t sure you’d even be able to walk in the morning. “W-what?” You asked confused by what he meant but he didn’t answer you, instead leaned down to bite your neck. You cried out in surprise. He actually bit you. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin on your neck, not caring if he hurt you. After all, everyone needed to know you were his.

Your hands tangled in his hair as you squeezed your eyes shut, tears now running down your face. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he slipped one hand between your thighs. You body twitched when you felt the pad of thumb rub your clit, all the while he never stopped fucking and marking you. He let out a low laugh when he felt your body twitch underneath him.

Sol could tell you were close to coming, by how your breathing became more erratic, how you held him closer. “Are you going to cum for me, dear?” He asked. You didn’t say anything, which annoyed the dark haired man. He sat up, ripping himself from your grasp and stopped rubbing circles against your sensitive clit. “You need to answer me.” He growled and just to emphasize the point, he pulled nearly all the way out before he snapped his hips forward. You cried loudly, biting your lip and nodding eagerly, “Y-yes. I wanna cum for you, Sol.” You whimpered, looking up at him with the cutest expression.

Sol smiled lovingly at you, satisfied with your answer, “You’re so cute when you beg, dear.” He spoke gently and with that he returned to stimulating your clit. Your mind was hazy as you felt your orgasm building up, you were only focused on one thing and that was coming. Your hands reached up to dig their fingernails in the skin of his bicep. “You’re so close. I can tell. Just cum for me. Please. I want to feel it so bad.” Sol begged in a whiny, desperate tone as he quickened his pace. And just like that you practically screamed his name, your body shaking as you came around his cock.

You orgasming and screaming his name was the most beautiful thing Sol had ever witnessed. He had dreamt of this moment for so long, it was better than he could ever imagine. He felt your pussy tighten around him and soon after he was coming too. Sol threw his head back as his dick twitched, coating your insides with thick cum. He was buried deep inside you, holding your thighs firmly so he could adequately fill you up. “You’re so beautiful. So pretty, full of my cum.” He mumbled, gazing down at you now.

Sol gently pushed your legs apart as he pulled out of you and watched in awe as his cum leaked out of your tight pussy. It was a heavenly sight. He sighed in satisfaction, flopping down onto the bed as he wrapped his arms around your tired body, pulling you onto his chest. You buried your face into the crook of his neck as you clung into him tightly. “No one will ever make you feel this good, dear. You were made for me. We’re soulmates.” Sol said barely above a whisper as he gazed at the white ceiling. “You’re mine. I won’t ever let anyone come between us. Ever. I love you so much, ______.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His embrace tightening around you when he said that.

There was something threatening about the way Sol spoke. You were a bit scared, but you had no reason to be, right? He just loved you and you loved him. “I love you, Sol.” You sniffled. Sol just smiled at your words. He finally had you all to himself.

[sknyuz]

hello!! I want to make a request ; is it alright if you can write about how seong je would be with a mute!reader? i just think it’d be an interesting dynamic ..! hmm other details i’d add is the reader often giving affection in a form of gifting (letters mayb?), cooking him a meal or quality time :) you may write this in whatever format you want!! thank youu and have a nice week (ps love your writing)

synopsis — seongje is a whirlwind of noise and chaos, but he finds unexpected peace in your silence.

now playing — sweet - cigarettes after sex pairing — geum seongje x gn!reader (hard of hearing, selectively mute) genre — hurt/comfort, slowburn, angst with soft moments, unconventional romance (nothing is conventional with seongje) cw — ableism/mocking of hearing disability, bullying, violence (including implied offscreen physical assault), power imbalance, toxic behavior, minor blood/bruising, strong language wc — ~2.1k

note: this was a pleasure to write <3 i hope i did ur request justice, anon. and please do not hesitate to tell me if i wrote something wrong or inaccurate to the experiences of hoh individuals.

masterlist | join the taglist | 400 follower event

seongje doesn’t do “quiet.” he doesn’t do subtlety, either. his entire existence is loud—his presence is a storm that makes everything feel tense and unpredictable. that’s how he’s known: the unpredictable, impulsive force, the mad dog. so, when he sees you for the first time, it’s almost like a challenge.

you’re sitting there, silently, in the bowling alley, a forced audience to the bullying happening around you. the union’s delinquents have gathered, sneering as they taunt you. they wave your hearing aids in front of you like a sick joke, expecting you to react. but you don’t. you’re quiet, your face unreadable, eyes glued to the floor, trying to stay as small as possible, like you’ve done countless times before. it’s a game for them, nothing more than a way to make you feel like an outsider.

“hey, freak, what’s wrong? can’t hear us?” one of them mocks, swinging your hearing aids back and forth with a smirk.

the noise is deafening to you in a different way—a slow, rising pressure in your chest. you want to speak, to make them stop. but your voice won’t come, and the words you want to say die in your throat, replaced by that quiet ache of helplessness.

that’s when seongje steps in.

he’s not supposed to be there. he’s supposed to be in baekjin’s office, probably arguing or being a general pain in the ass—but the noise coming from the alleyway catches his attention. he comes striding out, a curse on his lips as he surveys the scene, his eyes lighting up with the familiar flash of anger.

“what’s with all the fucking noise, fuckers?!,” seongje shouts, his voice dripping with disdain as he eyes the delinquents, but his gaze lands on the one holding your hearing aids, who freezes up as soon as he realizes who’s standing in front of him.

“aww, you guys are really fucking pathetic,” seongje steps forward, his mood shifting from bored to dangerous in an instant. he slaps the delinquent’s face, knocking the hearing aids out of his grip, and catches them before they hit the floor.

the delinquent stumbles back, startled, and seongje doesn’t miss the way his bravado slips. “hey, if you want to get your ass kicked, i’ll be happy to oblige. otherwise, get the fuck out of here,” seongje growls, and his voice carries an unmistakable warning.

the delinquents scatter quickly, realizing they’re not really looking forward to get beat up by the wolf himself. seongje watches them leave with a bored smirk, but his eyes return to you, where you’re still sitting silently, your gaze downcast. his anger bubbles under the surface, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at you—it’s more frustration at how they treated you. and, maybe… it’s confusion. because why would he be frustrated?

he despises those who put on a front, acting all tough and dominant when they're around someone they know is weaker, but turn into cowards the moment they face someone like seongje. the hypocrisy makes him sick—they don’t even have the balls to face him.

you look up at him then, your lips parting as if to say something, but the words stay locked inside. seongje stares back, a little too long, before he gestures to the now-empty bowling alley with a roll of his eyes.

“shit, it’s way too quiet in here now,” seongje mutters, half to himself. “i need a fucking drink. you coming?” his fist reaching out to you, making you flinch, but he simply turns and opens his palm to reveal your hearings aids, offering it back to you, his gaze not even meeting yours.

you hesitate, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. seongje doesn’t wait for a reply. he knows how this works—he doesn’t need words from you to tell if you’re okay. you’ve already said more than enough with that silence of yours.

it’s a few weeks later when seongje starts to notice something he wasn’t expecting—something soft. you’re not the type to speak, but you show him things. you leave him little letters. they’re simple at first, just words on paper—carefully written, neat and soft. but each one has meaning. you might leave him a note after a chaotic day, telling him, thank you for helping me today—a gesture he’s not used to.

seongje can’t stop himself from reading them over and over, even if he pretends they don’t matter. he tosses the first one aside in an exaggerated motion, but later, when he’s alone, he pulls it out again, trying to make sense of it. there’s something oddly comforting in your words. something real. his usual sharpness dulls just a little when he reads them.

it’s a typical night, and you don’t expect anything to go wrong. seongje has always been unpredictable, but you can’t stop yourself from trusting him. there’s a strange sort of understanding between the two of you now. he doesn’t need you to speak, and you don’t need him to be anything but… himself. still, you don’t expect what happens when he calls you to meet him in a parking lot late one evening.

the dim light from the streetlamps makes the whole place feel cold and detached. you spot him standing there, leaning against the hood of a car, his eyes narrowing slightly when he sees you approach. but there’s something different tonight—something unsettling in his stance.

"come here," seongje says, his voice almost too casual for the tense atmosphere.

your breath catches in your throat as the boy on his knees comes into focus. you've seen him around before—he’s one of the delinquents from the union. the same one who’d been taunting you in the bowling alley, waving your hearing aids like some cruel joke. that memory hits you sharply, and your stomach churns with discomfort as you recognize him now, his face bruised and bloodied, a lip split open, looking like he’s been through hell.

but why is he here? why is he on his knees, shaking in front of seongje? what happened to him?

seongje stands over him, his posture casual, his grin wide and wicked as he watches the boy with almost bored amusement. he kicks the delinquent’s side lightly, like it’s a game, and the boy flinches.

"come on, kid," seongje says, his voice teasing but edged with something darker, something almost amused by the kid’s fear. "just like we practiced."

the delinquent on his knees doesn’t speak, his eyes downcast, probably too terrified to even look up at seongje, but his shaky hand lifts. you watch as he tries to make the "a" handshape, his fingers clumsy as he attempts to sign. seongje looks down at the boy, his grin stretching wider as he watches him fumble.

the delinquent hurriedly completes the sign, his hands shaking, his breath coming in short bursts as he struggles to perform it correctly. he spins his hand in a half-hearted clockwise motion, and you can tell how hard it is for him to even try. he looks humiliated, and maybe that’s what seongje wants—to make him feel small, to show that he’s the one in control now. like how the boy probably felt back in the bowling alley with you.

“sorry.” he signed.

as the boy finishes, seongje pats his shoulder with an almost affectionate thud, a grin still plastered on his face. “good job,” he mutters, voice dripping with mock praise. but his eyes flick to you, then back to the delinquent, as if waiting for some kind of reaction.

the delinquent scrambles to his feet, not daring to say a word, but you can see the fear still fresh in his eyes. without another glance, he stumbles off into the shadows of the parking lot, and seongje doesn’t follow him, not bothering with any more theatrics. “now that’s how you apologize,” he sighs contentedly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as he walks back to where you two came from.

you don’t respond, but you follow him. because, despite everything—despite how messed up all of this is—he’s still the one who, somehow, happened to feel like the safest person to be around. despite his… unique antics.

despite the way he does things no one else would dare to. because even if he’s rough around the edges, unpredictable and loud, seongje never made you feel small. and that, weirdly enough, was enough.

seongje’s desk at the bowling alley becomes a quiet sort of shrine to you—littered with your letters and notes, half-crumpled from him rereading them over and over. he never bothers to clean it up. they’re scattered across the surface like leaves in a storm, but he knows exactly where each one is. it’s an organized mess, chaotic in the same way he is. but if anyone even looks at them too long—tries to pick one up, makes a joke about the handwriting, even breathes too close to the edge of his desk—they’re basically asking for a death wish.

“touch it and you die,” he’ll mutter without even looking up, one foot kicked up on the desk, cigarette dangling from his lips. it’s not even a threat—it’s a promise.

somewhere in between the late night meetups—where the world is quiet and it’s just the two of you��and the stolen moments in back rooms lit by vending machine glow, seongje softens. not in a way that’s obvious to most, but in ways you catch. like when he plays bowling with you late at night at the union headquarters, just the sound of pins crashing echoing through the empty lanes. he’s terrible at it, but he doesn’t care. he would fair better hitting someone at the back of the head with these bowling balls. he only really lights up when it’s your turn.

you roll the ball, knock down every pin, and before you can even react, he’s throwing his hands in the air, exaggeratedly signing applause, a wide grin stretching across his face.

“that’s what i’m fucking talking about!” he shouts, clapping loudly on top of the sign for applause he just made, just because he’s still him—loud, obnoxious, impossible—but now he’s loud for you.

yeah… to seongje, you’re like a stray puppy at first. small, quiet, following him around without saying a word, eyes always wide and watching. at first, he thinks it’s kinda funny—endearing, even. you don’t talk back, don’t flinch when he’s loud, and you’ve got this habit of showing up with little notes or food like some soft, strange ritual he doesn’t understand. he starts calling you “puppy” just to mess with you, ruffling your hair whenever you come around.

but somewhere along the way, that fondness stops being just a game. no, you’re not a pet to seongje. but maybe, you became an equal.

he starts waiting for your notes. starts leaving his office door slightly cracked, just in case you come by. he catches himself watching you instead of his phone. gets weirdly pissed off when other people so much as look at you wrong.

and the night he realizes it’s different—that it’s not just him babysitting some quiet kid—it’s when you sign “stay” with soft hands after a long night, and he does. no grumbling, no jokes, just settles next to you and doesn’t leave.

after that, it’s not a question. you’re not a puppy. you’re his person.

and yeah, maybe he never said you were dating. but everyone knows. you leave your food in the union’s fridge, your letters in his desk, your comfort in the chaos of his life. and he protects you, respects you, listens to your silence more than he’s ever listened to anyone’s voice. and no one in the union dares to bring it up or even question your soft presence in the nitty gritty bowling alley.

seongje is loud. like, really fucking loud. he talks with his whole body, yells when he's annoyed, laughs like he owns the air around him, and never knows when to shut up. he's noise and motion and chaos wrapped in one, dangerously sharp-edged boy. but you—you're quiet. not just in voice, but in presence. you move gently, offer kindness without demanding attention, speak in ways that don’t need sound.

and somehow, in all the noise of his world, your silence is the only thing that ever made sense. he used to think silence was empty, but now it’s where he finds comfort. he’s still loud, still volatile, still the type to throw a punch first and maybe ask questions never. but now there’s this... softness around the edges. a space he carves out just for you. like you’re the eye of the storm, and he’s always, always circling back to you.

in your quiet, he feels understood. and maybe that's the wildest thing about this whole mess—that a boy made of sound found peace in someone who never had to say a word.

note: aaa i feel like this so short >><< i wanted to give them more of a backstory but for now this is what i’m going with. if you’d like to see more of them that’d be nice 🫶 this is such a different take from collarless tho, and it’s nice to also write a softer character to contrast our tough collarless!reader to explore more dynamics with seongje.

i don’t aim to reform or soften seongje, but have the peaceful presence of the reader be incorporated into his life without changing his ideals and personality.

𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ weak hero class ֹ ₊ ꒱ @kstrucknet | @loserlvrss @nanamiswifesatorusgf @hateateez @slytherinshua @winnie-bunnie @rexxiiia @mrgzzarella @ilyhachii @youmeshii @actuallynarii @midnight--raine @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @trasshy-artist @crowneve @juicyjam @xh01bri @onyourlisa345 @triciawritesstuff @prettywhenicry4 @dripoftheseus @rosieparkk @gacktsa @sopitadearvejas @satorustorm @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @mirwors @sqacewalkr @l5byrinth @vovoloyo @keumbaku @sarcastic-cookie @v3n0m35 @vitaminbtob @armani78 (ask to be tagged or removed)

[swordgrace]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.

SYNOPSIS: a blissful marriage to an honorable man — it is more than you could’ve asked for. with the heir on the way, you make a request of your husband.

anonymous request. unofficial sequel to wolfsblood, dragonsblood.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anonymous.

{ WORD COUNT: 6.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), overprotective cregan, reader is pretty horny for cregan (valid), pregnancy, reader is pregnant, sexual activities while pregnant, cregan is a father in his mind, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, cregan loves munching, vaginal fingering, teasing, biting, hair-pulling kink, obvious size difference + size kink, slight face-riding, lots of cregan admiring in this one-shot, very soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I love writing for Cregan so much, y’all don’t understand the depths of my adoration for him. I churned this out pretty quickly, but I loved writing it, Father Cregan is the best! I hope that you all enjoy, & thank you for your support! ❤️

𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.

It was easier to breathe, you’d realized — King’s Landing had always been so stifling and pungent, the population too thick, the air acrid. Here, in the North, it was sprawling with open spaces, regions of untouched forest and unsettled countryside.

The bite of the harsh, Northern chill was not an easy adjustment to make after a lengthy life spent in Southern regions — the gnawing wind often seared your extremities, and it was not any easier on Silverwing. Fire ran through your veins, tempered by your tender heart and kindly disposition.

Your beloved husband would not have it any other way.

What had started as an unsteady, tumultuous betrothal marked by obvious bitterness from your family and wariness from his own House, had blossomed into a fruitful union. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner, and it made you realize how fortunate you were.

Snow was uncommon in most of the South, yet it remained constant in the North, mountains blanketed in endless horizons of white. It was a particularly icy day, winter winds stinging your cheeks, prickling your flesh with its pinpricks.

Mounds of pale, grayish fur swaddled your form, lined in the finest fleece, downy and plush against your skin. The trodden path to the Godswood was marked by frozen dirt, dusted over with a fresh layer of snowfall. Sprinkles of crystalline drops fell from the cloudy skies, and your breath emerged in hot wisps of air.

Lilac hues drifted toward the mountainous form of your husband, whose back was turned to you, swathed in the dappled pelt of a direwolf. Ice hung from his shoulder, a massive longsword of Valyrian Steel, an heirloom passed down through generations of House Stark.

Someday soon, it will pass to your firstborn son.

You recalled the night that you were wed, beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree. It was serene, a moonlit dusk that struck the snow with an ethereal glow, your hands bound as you recanted your vows. It had been some moons now since that day, and you had only felt joy since then.

Cregan listened to the light crunch of snow beneath your footfalls as they reverberated throughout the Godswood, the pond frozen-over with a layer of ice. Pale bark marked with a foreign face peered back at him — this was a place that he and Rickon visited many times.

Before his little brother had passed, they pretended to fight wars here, forge their weapons, sticks found from the forest floor, and envision themselves as Knights. He could still feel his brother sometimes, his presence a whisper in the blood-red leaves, somewhere within the forest’s song.

Religion was a complicated thing for you. Your mother wielded the Faith of the Seven like a crudely-worn shortsword, letting it strike to her advantage even when it was rusty, at best. You had little interest in it, and Cregan seemed to respect your growing distance from your old roots. The Old Gods were his — you had nothing.

Inklings of snow drifted from the pale skies, growing darker as evening approached. The North became unyieldingly harsh after the sun began to wane, the sting of biting wind swirling around you, seeping into your bones. You were rather cold, but persisted for Cregan.

“Ser Rodrick said that I might find you here,” Silence dissipated, filled with the sound of your voice, as soft as feathers, a soothing balm. You stepped closer, beneath the boughs of the great tree, the canopy thick with vermillion leaves. “How are you faring?”

With Winter approaching, spreading its cold, brittle tendrils across the North, Cregan’s duties had increased tenfold. Preparing his people for winter, ensuring that food was plentiful, that they were safe — it was the burden of leadership, but there was no one better suited for it in your eyes.

“Well enough,” Cregan murmured, storm-colored hues drifting over the Weirwood tree before they turned to you, completely and utterly transfixed. You stole every wisp of air from his lungs with your beauty, clad in the trappings of his people. “I apologize for running off.”

An amiable smile crossed your features as you reached for your husband, slipping a gloved palm against the crook of his arm. “You needn’t apologize, husband. You are owed your solitude, and I wouldn’t dare tell you otherwise.” You have his bicep a gentle squeeze.

Cregan’s gaze softened, sparkling with a warmth reserved only for you, his beloved. Your presence always seemed to melt away his hardened exterior, but he much preferred it that way. He stepped closer, towering above you in all of his indomitable glory, craning down to press a kiss against your brow.

The gloved leather of his hand moved to cup your abdomen, and the growing life within. The joyous news of your pregnancy had been the talk of the North, the new Lady Stark, preparing to birth an heir of Winterfell. Those thick furs you wore obscured your belly quite well.

“I should be asking you how you fare, carrying our child,” Cregan insisted, gingerly caressing around your stomach with the pride of a doting husband. “Here you are, walking all this way to the Godswood, when it is I who should be by your side.” If there was one word to describe Cregan, it was overprotective.

Gods, he was attentive — if he did leave your side, he ensured that you were well looked-after, under the watchful protection of his guardsmen. You couldn’t fault your husband for his safeguarding nature, given that it was to be your firstborn.

Sometimes he forgot that you were a dragon-rider.

“Being beneath the open sky has done me a world of good, husband,” You mused, canting your head to one side. You were not completely round and waddling just yet — halfway through, as the Maester stated. “I cannot stand to look at that dreadful cobblestone for days on-end.”

Cregan did not protest, nor invalidate your claims. He was not the one carrying a child — he did not have a right to speak on behalf of you. A shiver rolled down your spine, due to the bitter chill of the wind, coupled with the encroaching snowfall.

Instead, he reached for your jaw, cupping your face within the roughened texture of his leather-clad palm, presenting you with a kiss. It was kept brief, yet the ardor lingered, as strong as a burning flame. “You are shivering, beloved. Let us return to the Keep.” He rumbled, shielding you beneath his cloak.

A respite from the cold would be welcome. Even if you possessed the blood of the Dragon, you did not fare well in such blisteringly glacial conditions. The thick cover of your husband’s cloak brought a sense of comfort, coupled with the natural heat that radiated from him.

Snow crunched beneath his heavy footfalls, your own masked by his boots. Cregan made sure to guide you every step of the way, hovering with his impressive shadow. “I have been contemplating a name for our child.” You spoke softly, a smile toying upon your lips.

“Have you?” Cregan appeared appeased, a stoic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t know if we are to have a son or a daughter.” He remarked, letting your hand wrap around the bulk of his forearm, guiding you through the Godswood.

“Perhaps not, but I wanted you to hear,” Such ideas had been stirring around within your mind for weeks, and with Cregan so preoccupied, you hadn’t broached the topic of conversation. “Gilliane, after your mother, should we have a daughter, and … Rickon.” You hesitated. “Should we have a son.”

Cregan’s steps began to slow, and he looked upon you with such love and devotion that it was nearly overwhelming. He couldn’t have loved you anymore if he tried — and he had tried. Towering over you, he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, one that blossomed with fondness.

You gave him the greatest honor of all — that of fatherhood, and now, you had bestowed upon him sentimental names, those of his family. Love flourished within his storm-colored hues, and he seemed to soften at your words. “You would honor me beyond words, wife. Do you not wish to pay tribute to your own family?”

Placing a hand over the growing swell of your stomach, you seemed somewhat indifferent to talk of your family. Helaena and Daeron were the exceptions in this, but it did not pain you any less. “I pay tribute by carrying our child,” You replied, your smile threadbare. “That is enough.”

Solemn, Cregan simply nodded, understanding your strained relationship with the family you had left behind in King’s Landing. From what you told him and from what he discerned, you seemed much happier here, liberated and free of such poisonous clutches. “Of course.” A soft rumble reverberated throughout his chest.

Winterfell’s snow-laden gates were now within reach, as guards in Stark tabards harkened the return of its Lord and Lady. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you interact with the denizens underneath his protection — you often greeted them with smiles and laughter.

He watched you grow into your station as Lady Stark, a growth that showed such promise. You had been shy around Northerners at first, but you now walked as if you had been in Winterfell your whole life. Cregan kept you close, his stance that of a protective husband, hovering above you with his hulking stature.

The Keep was close, and you could feel the crackling warmth of the hearth lick across your skin in the forefront of your mind. Cregan was characteristically stalwart, keeping you wedged against his side, swaddled in the thick furs of the direwolf.

Once inside, you welcomed the gust of warmer air. The Keep burned many fires and braziers when winter became sharp and bitter, your cheeks stinging from the cold. “Shall we retire this evening, or are you lacking in nourishment?” Cregan inquired, knowing that your penchant for foodstuffs had increased while pregnant.

“Could something be brought to our chambers? Perhaps a stew or a broth, that sounds rather warming.” As if on-queue, your stomach lurched with inklings of famish, as if your child also demanded something to eat.

“It will be done,” With his stoic assurance, your husband bent down to press a kiss against your temple, smoothing a palm across your back. “I will join you shortly, wife.” Cregan had a tendency to walk the Keep before retiring — spare a word to the guards, those in the kitchens, and anyone underneath his care.

“Do not keep me waiting for too long.” You mused, lips curving into a warm smile that could melt even the hardiest of ice — including that of your husband. The vulnerability that seemed to come to him in your presence was a comforting thing.

With a soft huff, Cregan cupped your chin, looking upon you with tempestuous hues, as gray as a winter’s storm. “I wouldn’t dare.” He assured, presenting you with a tender kiss. Gods, you had sorely missed his mouth in many ways, and you were swift to reciprocate.

After you had become with-child, fuller and round with the heir to Winterfell, you had not engaged Cregan as much in terms of intimacy. He wanted you to relax, to not have to lift a finger. You missed your husband in more ways than one, giving way to your own basic desires and carnal instincts.

The kiss possessed a charged edge, tension looming above, the fringes of it seeping into your lips. You held onto his forearm, an audible sigh slipping past your mouth when Cregan withdrew. He could detect your yearning — the sentiment was a mutual one, but he feared hurting you, as any man would.

With a gentle hum, you allowed your husband to leave you, watching as his impressive form encapsulated all space within the corridor he walked in. You let him tend to his duties, and you made for the spiraling stairwell, making your way to your chambers without a hitch.

Thick, wooden doors gave way to the sanctuary within, the hearth being stoked and tended-to by one of the servants. “I thought you might want it warm, m’lady.” She mused, having laid out a series of new wardrobes for you across the foot of your bed.

“Thank you, Tanea.” The new gowns and dresses seemed to be made with your new specifications in-mind, accommodating for your growing belly. Part of you felt self-conscious when it came to your pregnancy — you no longer seemed to fit into your own skin.

“You must be excited, with the babe on the way,” Tanea was easy to speak with, an exuberant young woman with cherubic features. “Your Lord-Husband certainly is.” She chimed, finishing with the hearth as she moved about.

“Is he?” Cregan was sometimes difficult to read, countenance permanently etched with that stoic Northern scowl of his, but you knew how happy he was. Knowing that your servants could see it filled you with delight. “I may need your assistance, Tanea.”

“Very much so, m’lady. He speaks as if he is a father already,” She fluttered to your side, assisting you in relinquishing the weight of your fur cloak and overcoat you wore. Tanea arranged the garments back into the large, wooden wardrobe. “Do you need anything else?”

“I do not,” You smiled, moving to sit atop the fur-laden footlocker at the end of your shared bed. “You have my gratitude, Tanea.” The girl curtsied, a proper gesture, before making her way from your chambers.

Intrigued, you happened to admire the new gowns strewn across your bed, many of them styled in the Northern way of dress, save for your evening shifts. One in particular caught your eye, made of sage-hued silk, translucent and frilly, the sleeves billowing.

Pinching the fabric between your fingers, you decided on wearing it to bed, pushing yourself up right as you organized the rest elsewhere, into the space of your wardrobe. Heavy footfalls resonated outside of your door, with it creaking open to give way to Cregan.

Your mountain of a husband carried two bowls of steaming stew, placing them down along the small, rounded table. The intricate carving of a wolf rested along the table’s edge, made of wood from the Wolfswood. “Are you tired?” He inquired, removing Ice from his shoulders, scabbard and all, placing it near his bedside.

After you had become with-child, he kept it close, in case of any unsightly, dire circumstances. He would not ever allow himself to be defenseless in your presence. You had thought it to be somewhat overly cautious, but you did not dissuade him otherwise.

“Not really,” You hummed, reaching for the many pins keeping your braids in-place. You removed them one by one, placing the ruby-studded needles upon your vanity. It felt better to let your hair down, pale tresses cascading across your shoulders in soft waves. “I am perfectly awake.”

Cregan’s visage was one of clear appreciation and adoration as he stepped closer, admiring the way you looked. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He insisted, hands moving to assist you in unlacing your dress. This was a common practice with each passing night — you enjoyed it.

Warmth crept along your features as you stood still, allowing him to untie your bodice with his calloused fingers, until the garment loosened. “You are much too kind, husband.” Stepping from your gown, you were left in a white slip, one that had grown somewhat uncomfortable with its tightness.

“It is not a kindness, but the plain truth.” Cregan replied, pressing a kiss against the pale crown of your head, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. “You are my beautiful wife.” He affirmed with a grunt, and moved away to change into his own smallclothes. Abandoning his leather and armor always felt unusual for him.

There was no debating your husband, whose stubbornness was sometimes renowned. Instead, you smiled, abandoning the snug, ivory fabric for your field of sage, hastily pulling it on over the swell of your stomach.

It gave you ample time to observe Cregan, whose musculature ensnared you time and time again. He was impressively thick, broad-shouldered and built like the Wall itself. Seeing him standing there in just his trousers made something hot stir between your legs.

You crept forward, shamelessly wrapping your arms around him from behind, and you could feel a tremor throughout his body when he huffed. “I have a handsome husband, a perfect husband — and that is the plain truth.” You hummed, cold cheek burying itself against the warmth of his skin.

Wordlessly, you peppered soft kisses against his spine, and to any scars and bruises that you could see. You listened to the sharp exhale from your husband, who did not protest your actions. Your lips felt like the kiss of snow, still cold from the chilly outdoors.

Cregan let you stay that way, and in-truth, he enjoyed it thoroughly. Those large, calloused hands placed themselves atop yours, lifting both to his lips as he kissed your knuckles. He let them drop, and you caressed him wherever you could. The gesture was soft, but he couldn’t deny the growing sensuality present between you both.

“For the blood of the dragon, your hands run cold, wife.” Cregan rumbled, soothingly tracing his fingers across your wrist, feeling your physique against his back, including the swell of your belly. You pressed your palms against his abdomen, able to feel the taut, subtle muscle there.

“It is a good thing that I have you to warm them,” The silky, soft resonance of your voice brought him comfort. You sounded so relaxed and blissful, feeling him sluggishly turn around within your hold. Cregan cupped your cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing across your lips. You kissed his thumb. “Kiss me.”

Cregan’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, and he instead gestured to the meal he’d brought with him. “Once you eat and have proper sustenance, I might indulge you then, beloved.” He mused, noticing the twinge of disappointment on your face.

“Might?” There was an upward inflection within your tone, as if the mere suggestion of might had offended you to some degree. Your burly husband then caged you within his embrace, palms soothingly caressing along your hips. “Must you insist on tormenting me?” You teased.

With a low grunt, Cregan reached for his tunic, eyes twinkling with mirth. “For now.” Tugging on the dark blue linen of his nightshirt, he gestured for you to eat, sitting beside you at the table. His own chair groaned in protest, and before he knew it, you were devouring your stew.

A mouthful of warm, seasoned broth filled your maw, accompanied with hearty chunks of venison and stewed vegetables. The cuisine in the North differed greatly from the South, not that you minded. You often felt more fulfilled after meals than you used to.

“Gods, that was wonderful,” You groaned, the stew satisfying your cravings. It warmed you to the bone, causing a shudder to roll down your spine as you finished, nudging the bowl aside. “I could eat several servings of that.” Your confession prompted Cregan to smirk.

“Famished, were you?” Cregan mused, watching as you moved out of your chair, cradling your stomach with one hand. He very nearly rushed to assist you, but he knew you would’ve swatted him aside.

“Quite, but I am eating for two. Your child needs it as much as I do,” You remarked, wandering toward the hearth as you extended one palm toward the fire. The comforting heat licked across your flesh, the orange light dancing over your features. “Much better.”

Cregan joined you not long after, guiding you to sit atop the large footlocker at the end of your marital bed, closest to the open flames. His rough fingertips glided over the plane of sage-hued silks, as he admired your womanly form through the fabric. “This suits you.” He rumbled, gently tugging on the silk to accentuate his point.

“Tanea had the seamstress craft me new clothing, given that I’ve grown quite a bit,” Admittedly, you felt some insecurity in your current state, afraid that your husband may not enjoy you as he once had. “I am glad that you like it, husband. I was worried that you wouldn’t.”

Perplexed, chestnut brows furrowed together, his countenance one of clear concern. Slipping an arm behind you, he calmly stroked your side, silently beseeching you to tell him of your worries. He knew what it pertained to, even if it was left unspoken. “Your worries are misplaced. I love you.” He assured.

“It isn’t just that, I — I suppose I feared that you wouldn’t still enjoy me this way. Most husbands in the capital seemed so disinterested when their wives began to show.” This wasn’t the South, and Cregan was as far from a disinterested husband as one could get. He kissed your jaw, letting you rest against him.

“You are carrying our child, the heir to Winterfell — I would continue to love you regardless of what your body might look like. Damn the Southerners,” Cregan murmured, planting a hand atop your belly. “I look at you and I see my wife — I see perfection. My heart calls your name.” For a man so rugged and rough, his words made your blood surge with exhilaration.

Joining his hand, you placed your palm atop his, the one firmly perched against your belly. If Cregan were being truthful with himself, he found you to be painfully beautiful like this, swollen with his child, knowing that he put a pup in you. Those lascivious fantasies had now become reality.

“Ñuha dōna zokla,” My sweet wolf — your High Valyrian often brought him to heel, bringing out the siren’s lull within your voice. Cregan had made a valiant effort to learn some of the language for you, but it never sounded as pleasant on his Northern tongue. “I am yours.” You beamed, lilac hues glistening with ardor.

Bringing a calloused palm to your face, he traced the fine plane of your cheekbone, reveling in the velveteen texture of your flesh. A wolf, brought to heel at his dragon’s side. Cregan studied your Valyrian features, basking in your beauty, coaxing you in for a kiss.

Your mouth was disarmingly soft, catching him off-guard, stealing away all of his coherency. He felt you turn inward, palm planting itself against the thick, corded muscle of his thigh, gripping him tightly as he deepened your kiss.

Something warm stirred within him, a longing to feel your body against his, able to detect the hitch within your breath as he drew you closer. Your wanton need radiated from you in thick, permeating waves, enough to bring him into the intricate web of your desire.

“Easy, wife.” Cregan rumbled, wanting to temper your carnality before it raged into that of a dragon’s flame. Your pleading gaze suggested otherwise, prompting him to caress along the length of your spine. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

A begrudging sigh escaped your lips as you incessantly tugged at his tunic, staring at your husband with furrowed brows. “You wouldn’t,” You uttered, tracing your fingers over his heart. “We do not have to commit the entire act. I simply want to enjoy you in other ways — I miss it.”

Subtlety wasn’t your strongest suit, and Cregan knew this. Arousal stirred within him, cock twitching at your lascivious insinuations. “Hm,” A soft growl left him, one that seemed to share your sentiments. “Is that what my lady commands of me?” He murmured, holding you close.

“She does,” You hummed, treating him to a playful smile as you reached for his chestnut tresses. One of your hands slithered beneath his tunic, feeling along the solid, thick muscle of his abdomen. He stroked at your belly, a stern hum reverberating within his throat. “Gods, I need you.” You exhaled.

With your need laid bare, Cregan heeded you with a fire swirling within his gut. His hand dipped down to the apex of your thighs, pushing beneath your silken shift until he found your cunt. Gods, you were wet already, a tantalizing thing, one that he found delight in.

“You are warm already, beloved.” Cregan’s thunderous timbre raked down your spine, effortlessly gaining your subservience with ease. You shivered, feeling his thick fingers deftly caress across your slit, teasing and toying with you, gathering your slick.

Feather-light touches would have to suffice as Cregan lazily pressed one digit against your clit. His mouth found the slender expanse of your neck, delivering hot, passionate kisses against your throat.

A simpering whine tore past your parted lips, one filled with such urgency as you shifted closer, writhing against the sensation of his hand. Any lick of friction would do, consuming your body with its amatory heat. He grunted into the hollow of your throat, kissing you wherever you could.

Your own mouth found the impressive bulk of his shoulder, seeking to bring your teeth into his flesh. A sonorous, rumbling grunt left your husband when you bit him, leaving behind the crescent marks of your teeth. If it weren’t for your pregnancy, he would’ve marked you in this way, too.

Seeking the softness of your mouth, Cregan’s mouth twitched into a threadbare smirk as he kissed you hard, letting it linger as his hand withdrew from your skirts. A groan of disappointment left you, but he intended on making up for it fully.

He moved off of the footlocker, planting a lasting kiss against your brow. Towering over you, Cregan’s shadow eclipsed most flickers of firelight, gray hues swirling with warmth as he bent the knee to you, his beloved. It was a mesmerizing sight, one that you reveled in.

His massive musculature bullied its way between your thighs, warm palms shifting to caress along your legs, from ankle to calf. He had never seen someone as resplendent as you, breathtakingly beautiful, the blood of the dragon, his wife.

Gathering your skirts within your hands, you fisted the silks, dragging them up until they pooled around your hips. Warm lips embraced the crook of your knee, peppering kisses across your leg, until he reached the velvet flesh of your inner thighs.

Your hips began to tilt forward, seeking the pleasant heat of his mouth, a heat that he gladly granted you time and time again. Cregan kissed his way to the slick warmth between your legs, a thunderous exhale escaping him, chest vibrating with a grunt.

Cregan gingerly adjusted your position, letting your legs rest against his broad shoulders, your back sloped against the furs and footboard of your bed. He pressed a kiss against your mound, nose buried near your pelvis before he made his descent.

A warm lap of his tongue dragged itself over your core, like hot embers raking across your cunt. You sighed, blissfully succumbing to wanton desire, reaching for his crown of chestnut tresses, gripping at the back of his skull. “Cregan.” You whined, head rolling forward just a bit.

Pale waves framed your face, countenance contorted into an expression of sheer and utter bliss, brows furrowing together. Your husband happily found his solace between your legs, mouth pressing hot kisses across your cunt. His hand gripped at your haunch, the other trailing against your leg.

It was ambrosial, your taste; a finest stout, sweetest of nectars that stained his lips with your perfection. Cregan lapped at your cunt, dutiful and attentive, ensuring to find every spot that made you gasp for air.

Nimble digits fisted into the furs at your side, mouth agape as a myriad of throaty moans escaped you. Your hand roamed through his tresses, tugging and pulling whenever his tongue graced the pearl of your cunt.

Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.

Any inkling of roughness had dissipated from him in the wake of your pregnancy, replaced with a passionate devotion, a rapture reserved only for you. His strong hands held you close, caressing you wherever he could.

You tasted sweet upon his tongue, honey-thick and a feast to sate his appetite. If he would choose his fate, it would be in between your legs, listening to the myriad of moans and throaty whimpers leave you. It was satisfying to know how much you enjoyed this; derived pleasure from it.

A tremor gripped your legs, little spasms of delight making their way throughout your body. Cregan’s mouth forged a blazing path from the hood of your cunt to your entrance, tongue greedy and hot, before he went back up again, seeking your sensitive pearl.

“Cregan!” Gods, he brought you such pleasure, a pleasure that seemed to seep into your very bones, sate your endless yearning, for now. Your legs curled inward, tight atop his shoulders as you rocked yourself into his mouth, doing little to suppress the volume of your moans.

He pressed closer with a wolf’s appetite, throat burning with carnal hunger as he continued to lap at your slick cunt. Your arousal felt honey-thick upon his tongue, something reserved only for him, chin glistening with your nectar. Your legs squeezed at his head, and he knew that he pleasured you well.

Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, a sensation that you had been longing to feel again. Cregan did not relent, yet he happened to slow just enough to savor you, dragging his tongue toward that clutch of nerves at the hood of your cunt.

As soon as he pursed his lips around your clit, you nearly forgot your own name, thoughts completely derailed, scattered into a blissful abyss. Your body reacted with shivers and tremors, hand gripping at the nape of his neck with a reckless abandon.

Your back arched slightly, collarbone glittering with perspiration through the thick, warm haze of your chambers. The hearth had brought about a feverish heat, coupled with the throes of your intimate entanglement. Cregan derived satisfaction from your pleasure, delighted to please his wife.

Pliant flesh filled his palm as he cupped your derrière, bringing you closer, letting you grind yourself against his mouth, use him and take whatever you needed. A grunt stirred within his chest, reverberating within his throat as he went about seeking your clit, suckling on the pearl of your cunt.

“Oh Gods,” You moaned, nearly clasping a hand over your mouth to hide the salaciousness of your voice. Surely, the servants had heard you by now — you would be fortunate if all of Winterfell didn’t hear you. “I — I’m close!” Rocking forward again, you let out a whimper.

With a strangled whine, you desperately chased after your release, one that you had sorely needed. Cregan’s cock twitched at the sound of your delicious moans, a shudder rolling down his spine whenever you whimpered his name. “That’s it,” He rumbled, hot breath fanning over your core. “Go on.” His encouragement was softly spoken through his Northern timbre.

He wanted to stay there, rooted between your legs, mouth consuming your cunt as if it were his last meal; a man wrought with starvation.

Cregan favored it, thoroughly reveling in the way your body reacted to him, visceral and ecstatic. He gingerly suckled on your clit, feeling your fingers tighten within his chestnut locks, gripping him tight. He wanted you to have your release, built upon this pent-up feeling.

He could feel your encroaching release, feel the tension in your grasp, the way you let your hips continue to lurch forward. Without relenting, Cregan continued to suck at your clit, letting it intermingle with hot laps of his tongue, dutiful and fervent between your legs.

A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, intermingled with the sounds of your pleasured cries and Cregan’s sonorous grunts. That heated coil within your stomach began to unfurl, bringing an onslaught of arousal with it as you bucked into his mouth.

At last, your peak consumed you in a white-hot oblivion, and you very nearly saw the stars themselves. With a strangled gasp, your legs tightened on either side of his head, followed by a blissful rush of liquid heat. Your grip began to slack upon his tresses, chest heaving from exertion.

Cregan lingered there for a few moments more, tongue caressing your cunt, cleaning up any last drop of your nectar. His mouth glistened with it when he did inevitably withdraw, lashing across his lips before he kissed your thighs, showering you in affection.

“Do you feel better?” He mused, kissing the crook of your knee before standing to his feet. You were positively hot, feeling a feverish warmth crawl across your skin, thighs shaking in the aftermath. You hastily adjusted your slip, regarding him with a gracious expression.

“Very much,” Your confession made him smirk as he helped you into bed, abandoning his tunic at the iron-wrought foot. As he settled down, you joined him, curled within the space at his side. “Would you like me to return the favor?”

Cregan never expected you to do anything that you didn’t want to — never feel obligated, either. He would survive without a night of release. “Tomorrow, perhaps.” He murmured, moving to rest a hand against the swell of your stomach, caressing your growing bump.

“Thank you, husband — for everything.” A gentle hum left you as you placed your hand over his, allowing him to protectively cradle your stomach. You let your head rest against his shoulder, his arm holding you at his side.

A bemused huff escaped him as he peered at you with mirthful hues, gray eyes that resembled a thunderstorm. “You needn’t thank me,” He assured, briefly pressing a kiss to your temple. “You needn’t ask for it, either.” Cregan enjoyed the taste of your cunt more than anything else.

You couldn’t help but smile, sheepishly moving to press a kiss against his jaw. “I love you,” You sighed, letting your ardor for him be known as you felt your eyes grow heavy. “Tomorrow, I would like for us to see Silverwing. She grows lonely in my absence.”

Cregan knew how much the creature meant to you. He had met Silverwing before, but he dared not climb upon her back — you’d asked it of him several times before. “Of course, beloved.” He murmured, basking in the heat of the firelight.

A sharp, fluttering sensation blossomed throughout your abdomen, prompting you to gasp. It was sudden and unexpected, but not painful. It was foreign, and had been happening on rare occasions.

“What is it?” Cregan questioned, visibly concerned before you dismissed it with a bright, delighted smile. You gently guided his hand elsewhere atop your stomach, pale brows furrowing together as you searched for the source.

“There,” You mused, joyous laughter escaping you as another kick fluttered against your joined hands. “Do you feel it?” It was heartwarming to watch the happiness glisten within his eyes, the way in which he adjusted his position to truly feel. Cregan’s true smiles were a rarity, and you saw it now.

The blood of the wolf and the dragon stirred within, prompting you to smile appreciatively at your husband. This was something the both of you had made with your love, the heir to Winterfell. “They seem strong,” Cregan remarked, leaning over to plant a kiss against your brow. “Perfect, just like their mother.”

His hand never left your belly, even as he maneuvered the furs over the both of you, letting you move to lay against the warm expanse of his chest. Cregan exhaled, staring into the dying embers of the heart, tracing his digits along the swell of your stomach.

“Strong, just like their father.” You whispered, pressing a kiss against his jaw before you settled down for slumber, shielded by the protective grasp of your Lord-husband.

[valeriehalla]

actual writing advice

1. Use the passive voice.

What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.

2. Use adverbs.

Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.

3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.

Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!

4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter

First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.

If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:

English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.

Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.

That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.

You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.

If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.

You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.

That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.

5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were

Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.

Well, bye!

[dakusan]

M a r k e d b y Y o u

Tattoo Artist!Lee Felix x Reader | Piercings. Patience. He called you “princess” and kissed you like a prayer

🔞synopsis: Tattoo Artist AU. You’ve been in his chair before. Piercings, mostly—ears, belly button. He always lets you choose the placement, shows you the options with gloved hands, calls you princess in that low, honey-drip voice like it means something. But this time it’s different. You’re back for a nipple piercing. The one you’ve been thinking about for months. The one only Felix could ever do. And he’s still careful. Still soft-spoken. Still sunshine-wrapped-in-black-ink. Until he’s muttering “You’re not just anyone.” Now you’re on his table again. Half-naked. Tattooed. Moaning. Marked. He touches you like you’re sacred. Fucks you like he’s starving. And when he says “Be my good girl one more time”—you fall apart all over again.

💌a/n: i took soooo many breaks while writing this… like at one point i paused to eat a grape and then just stared at the ceiling for 20 minutes. post-nap vibes. zero momentum. negative discipline. BUT I FINISHED. BYE. if something doesn’t make sense, or there's a typo, or the formatting is stupid and chaotic?? no you didn’t. you saw NOTHING. i write in markdown and vibes. we ride at dawn. also this is 1000% lee felix coded like?? sunshine man who eats you out until you cry?? puts his hoodie on you after?? feeds you a microwave rice bowl and calls it five-star dining?? yeah that’s him your honour. p.s. reblog if felix should ruin you gently p.p.s. debating squid games au!skz where seungmin wins because he cheats p.p.p.s. going to sleep now. if you see me online again tonight—no you don’t

⚠️ warnings: 18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI | nipple piercings (procedure described) | tattoo scene (needle, stencil, positioning, mild pain mention) | oral sex (f!receiving, overstimulation, praise, degradation) | multiple orgasms | unprotected sex (don't be dumb irl. wrap it up) | filth language (he calls you princess and good girl and my canvas while literally buried in you) | possessive felix, soft dom felix, worship kink, marking kink | implied creampie | tattoo studio sex (felix is a professional except when he's not) | aftercare so tender it could kill a victorian child | reader gets emotionally and sexually obliterated and loves every second | dangerously high amounts of sunshine-boy-turned-dirty-mouth menace energy | minho lives upstairs and has heard them multiple times, he's annoyed

📌 Please read with caution. Hydrate. Stretch. Sit on a towel. Text your piercer a respectful “thank you”.

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

🎧 » Trouble— EXO « 0:58 ─〇───── 3:17 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

You don’t remember the exact moment it shifted—when curiosity became ritual.

It might’ve been the second time you sat in his chair, hands tucked under your thighs, letting him talk you through the angles of your ear like it was a constellation map only he could see. You'd walked into NO SAINT INK on a whim, a dare, a half-formed promise to yourself that you’d stop saying “maybe next time.” You hadn’t planned on choosing him.

But Felix had looked up from the back of the shop—half-crouched on a rolling stool, sketchbook open on one thigh, sunflower-blond hair tucked behind a pierced ear—and smiled at you like he’d been expecting you.

And that was it.

He patted the vinyl seat beside him like he already knew where this was going and you made yourself comfortable on it.

That was six months ago.

Now? You’re the kind of regular who doesn’t need to check in at the front. Chan gives you a lazy wave and goes back to the books. Seungmin nods from his little corner, earbuds in. Jisung usually grins and whispers something stupid under his breath as you walk by—but Felix? Felix always knows you’re coming.

Your file probably says four things:

– multiple cartilage – curated constellation piercings, designed together – naval (freehand, perfect placement) – Felix only.

And it’s not that the others aren’t good. They are—exceptional, even. It’s just that Felix makes it feel like more.

Felix has sunlight in his veins and something far darker in his smile. To most people, Felix is gentle. Patient. Calming. He hums when he works. Offers you a blanket if the studio’s cold. Lets you squeeze his wrist if you’re nervous—never flinches, just murmurs, “that’s it, angel. keep breathing.”

But under that softness is something sharper. You see it in the way his hands move.

He’s a piercer first, tattooer second. Specializes in placements that most artists shy away from: dermals, navals, nipples, genitals, and other delicate zones. He says he likes the precision of it. The trust involved.

“People forget how intimate piercing is,” he told you once. “You have to earn someone’s body. Be calm enough they let you near it. Gentle enough they want you to stay.”

When he tattoos, he prefers sacred geometry, micro-script, and emotional etchings. Crescent moons behind ears. Names in Morse code along ribs. Protection symbols. Memorial pieces. He doesn’t chase shock value—he tattoos meaning.

“Needles hurt. Might as well make it count.”

He rarely books more than one client a day. He gives too much of himself each time.

But with you? He always says yes.

You and Felix had started professional. It always was. Until it wasn't. Because by then, it became something else.

The way he’d guide your breathing—not just for the pain, but to calm the tremble in your voice when you asked about your next piercing. The way he remembered you drink peach tea, not green. That you like to see the jewelry options laid out first, like you're choosing a path. The way he held your hand a beat too long. Pressed gauze to your skin with a feather-light touch that lingered.

You knew it wasn’t just you. You’ve seen him work on others. You’ve seen the difference.

Felix is kind to everyone. But he’s tender with you.

You don’t flirt outright—there’s too much electricity in the silence. But you watch each other. You hover in his orbit like a star caught in slow collapse.

He calls you “darling,” “brave girl,” “pretty thing.” Sometimes he texts you the night before your appointments:

“room’s prepped. miss you a little.” “got new titanium pieces. want you to be the first.” “can’t wait to see what you wear for me this time.”

You think he notices your body more than he lets on. You’ve caught him watching—low eyes, parted lips, tongue brushing his lower lip.

But he’s never crossed the line. Not once. Which is why you’re nervous now. Because your next appointment? You asked for nipple piercings.

And maybe—maybe a tattoo. You haven’t told him where yet. Nor what the design is, yet.

The bell over the door chimes as you step into NO SAINT INK, and before you can even take two steps inside, you hear it.

“SHE’S BACK!” “Hide the lube!” “She’s got that ‘about to do something reckless’ walk again!”

You sigh. Loudly. Dramatically. “I hope all your piercings reject and your cartilage gets infected.”

Han Jisung appears from behind the front counter like a raccoon crawling out of a snack bag, a half-eaten protein bar in one hand and glitter under his eyes. “Babe, please,” he grins, wide and shameless. “You’ve been threatening me with infection kink since your second appointment.”

From the corner, Seungmin doesn’t even look up from his iPad. “Because you act like you want one.”

“Don’t kink-shame me in my own place of worship,” Han mutters, then drops his voice a few octaves and mock-moans, “oh no, doc, I have sepsis—”

“Stop,” Chan groans, emerging from the back office, rubbing his temples like he’s been hearing this conversation in surround sound all day. “Don’t scare off the paying clients.”

You flash him a sweet smile. “If you wanted professionalism, you wouldn’t have hired them.”

“Touché,” he concedes, then offers you a hug. You melt into it. Chan smells like sage, mint, and the weight of adult responsibility. “You’re here for Lix?”

You nod, and Han makes a soft oohhhh in the background like he’s watching a sex scene through a cracked door.

“Big day,” he whispers like a narrator. “Big... titties.”

Seungmin finally looks up. “Are we done pretending she doesn’t have favorite-client status? Felix literally skipped lunch to get the room ready for her.”

You raise an eyebrow. “He skipped a meal?”

“Voluntarily,” Chan confirms, crossing his arms. “Said something about making sure the setup was ‘extra calming’ and ‘not rushing the process.’ He even polished the mirror. You got him nervous.”

Han gasps. “He cleaned something? For someone other than himself? Girl, are you getting pierced or proposed to?”

You flip him off on your way past the counter, but you’re smiling. Because yeah. You’re nervous too. But also… something about this feels right. Like walking toward a decision you’ve already made in your bones.

You stop at the hallway, just before the private room where Felix usually works.

The door’s closed. And your heart is racing.

Chan notices. He leans in a little, softer now. “You okay?”

You nod. Then bite your lip. Then shake your head and whisper, “He’s gonna see my boobs, Chan.”

Han yells from the counter, “BOOBS CONFIRMED! I REPEAT, BOOBS CONFIRMED.”

Seungmin sighs. “This is why we can’t bring you anywhere.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I hate it here.”

“Do you want me to escort you to the back like a lady of honor?” Seungmin deadpans from the corner without glancing up.

“Do you want to get stabbed with a sterilized piercing needle, Seungmin?” you shoot back.

“I’d let Felix do it,” he says casually, flipping the page on his iPad. “He has nice hands.”

Chan sighs. “This is becoming a lawsuit.”

Han’s already up on the counter like a meerkat, one hand to his ear like a news anchor.

“BREAKING NEWS: LOCAL BAD BITCH ABOUT TO SHOW TITTIES TO CERTIFIED SWEETHEART WITH KNIFE SKILLS—WILL SHE SURVIVE THE HORNY?”

“Find out next time on Nippled and Afraid,” Seungmin adds.

That’s when the door creaks open behind you and you freeze like a sim with a full bladder.

Felix steps out of the room.

He’s wearing black joggers and a fitted tank, gloves already on, a silver chain glinting at his throat. His hair’s tied back loosely, showing off the piercings in his ears and the constellation tattoo on the side of his neck that you’ve definitely stared at way too long. There’s a clipboard in one hand, and a titanium barbell balanced on the tip of one glove.

He looks between you and the absolute shitshow happening behind you.

“…Did I miss something?” he asks, blinking slow, voice smooth as fuckin’ butter.

“No,” you say too fast.

“Yes,” Han counters immediately. “It’s a boob day.”

Felix’s mouth twitches like he’s trying so hard not to laugh. His eyes find yours—warm, soft, but also glinting with the tiniest bit of mischief. “Is that right?”

“No,” you say again. But this time it’s more like a squeak. A guilty, betrayed-by-your-own-mouth squeak.

“Honestly,” Seungmin adds helpfully, “I’d be nervous too. She has a lot of boob.”

“SEUNGMIN.”

“Just being body-positive.”

Felix hums under his breath, completely unbothered, tilting his head like he’s studying you. “Want me to clear the hallway for your modesty?”

You narrow your eyes. “I hate you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He turns to the boys and deadpans: “If you three don’t shut up and go away, I’ll pierce each of your tongues with no anesthesia and a broken clamp.”

Han gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, still calm, still polite. “Test me.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Han grabs Seungmin by the arm. “Okay, we’re leaving! Everyone respect the boob event! LET HER LIVE!”

Chan gives you a wink and a mock-salute as he herds the feral duo out. “Tell him if he makes you cry in a bad way, I’m docking his pay.”

Then, finally, blessedly, they’re gone.

And Felix is looking at you like you’ve already undressed for him. “You ready?” he asks, that same gentle voice he always uses when he’s about to touch you.

You exhale. And nod.

Finally, you step inside, and the door clicks softly shut behind you.

It’s quiet now—just the low hum of the sterilizer in the corner and the faint lo-fi beats playing from a speaker tucked onto a shelf. The room smells like warm alcohol wipes, vanilla lotion, and Felix. That signature, indescribable scent you’ve come to associate with safety and danger at the same time.

The chair’s already reclined. Fresh black sheet. Towel folded neatly at the headrest. Paper tray lined up with tools—everything gleaming, precise, ready for you.

Felix follows you in, calm and unhurried, and says, “You can sit or lie down, whatever feels best. We’ll talk through everything first.” And then, in that same soft voice—

“No rush. You’re in my space now.”

You move to the chair, slowly. Your thighs graze the vinyl. The seat is cold at first, but it grounds you—forces you to breathe as you lower yourself in and let your arms rest by your sides. You try not to think about how exposed you’re about to be. About the way your heart is pounding out of your chest. About how many times you’ve imagined this exact moment but never thought it would feel like this.

Felix walks over, still gloved, and holds out the barbell he’d been carrying—pinched delicately between latex fingers. It’s titanium, rose gold anodized, and so small it looks almost delicate.

He holds it up to the light.

“This is one option,” he says gently, then places it on a sterile pad and gestures to a small velvet tray. “But I have a few others. Different finishes, gemstone ends, opal, flat discs, silver, matte black. Depends how flashy—or soft—you want the look to be.”

You glance at the tray. It’s absurd, really, how careful he is—still in gloves, still surgical in motion, even though this isn’t the procedure yet. You’ve seen him do this before, for your ear jewelry, for your navel. He always uses gloves when presenting the options. Won’t touch the pieces bare-handed, even if you’re just browsing.

Because Felix doesn’t just pierce people. He ritualizes it.

He kneels a little to your eye level now—still at a distance, still giving you space. “You okay so far?”

You nod, maybe a little too quickly. “Yeah. Just…” You inhale. Exhale. “…I can’t believe I actually booked this.”

A slow smile curls onto his lips. His eyes flick down, briefly—so brief it could be missed. “Been thinking about it for a while though, haven’t you?”

You nod again, quieter this time. “Since my second piercing.”

He tilts his head, amused. “The conch?”

“Yeah. You were so… professional about it. I kept waiting for you to… I don’t know.”

“To flirt?”

You pause. Then smile. “Kinda.”

He shrugs, eyes soft but glinting. “Didn’t wanna mess with your comfort. But if it helps—” He leans in slightly, voice lowering, velvet-sweet. “—I’ve been waiting for you to ask me for this one.”

Your breath catches.

He straightens again, walks over to a side drawer, pulls out a few more options, all titanium, all glittering under the soft room light. Then he turns back to you, lifts his hands—

“May I?”

You nod, and he comes closer, tray in one gloved hand, the other bracing lightly on the back of your chair. He holds the options near your chest—hovering just above the fabric of your top, not touching you yet, but close enough that your breath hitches again.

“These two would suit your skin tone best. See the undertones?”

You glance at the pieces. You barely register them. All you can think about is how close he is now. How his voice has dropped. How he hasn’t touched you. Not yet. But your body feels like he already has.

Then—gently—he steps back.

“Take your time. When you’ve chosen, I’ll walk you through prep and position. You can undress once you're ready.”

He turns toward the counter, reaching for a new pair of gloves—because he’s about to discard the current ones, the ones he used for the display.

“Can’t touch your skin with these,” he says over his shoulder. “You deserve clean hands.”

You inhale, exhaled as your eyes settle on the tray. Staring at it like it’s offering answers to questions you’re not brave enough to say out loud. You choose the daintiest one—a curved titanium bar with petite opal ends, almost iridescent in the light. Sweet. Soft. Girlish in a way.

He looks at your choice when you hold it up. And smiles. “Pretty,” he says, voice low. “Just like you.”

You pretend not to choke on your own breath.

He discards the gloves—carefully, methodically, snapping them off and dropping them into the bin—then slips on a new pair from the box near the sterilizer. You watch him like you’re under a spell. Every movement he makes is calm. Measured. Intimate, but professional. Not clinical. Never cold. Just… deeply intentional.

He begins laying out the setup.

A sterile tray. An unopened piercing needle—still sealed in its package. Forceps. A marker. Gauze. Saline. A mirror.

Then he turns to you, head tilting softly, voice warm. “Go ahead and take off your top and bra. You can lie back once you’re comfortable.”

You nod, pulse quickening, and stand slowly.

Your hands fumble at the hem of your shirt. You’re not shaking—not exactly—but you feel it. That thrum just under your skin. Not fear. Something else.

Excitement. Anticipation. The quiet ache of being seen.

You peel off your top, then unclasp your bra, letting both drop neatly onto the nearby chair. For a second, you hesitate—arms half-crossed like you might cover yourself.

But then Felix turns around. And the look on his face? Pure reverence. His eyes flick over you, but not in the way you expect. Not hungry or gawking. Just… soft. Quiet. Attentive. Like he’s seeing something sacred.

“There you are,” he murmurs. “Look at you.”

You bite your lip. “You’re not even trying to hide it, huh?”

He walks over slowly, already holding the marker, and gives you the tiniest smile. “Not today.”

You lie back onto the reclined chair, head resting against the folded towel, arms settling at your sides. The air is cool against your bare chest, but his gaze? His gaze is warm enough to burn.

He crouches beside you, just at the edge of the chair, keeping his hands respectful—but close. You can see the marker poised in his fingers.

“Okay, I’m going to mark the placement now. Just a little dot on each side. I’ll give you the mirror after, and you can tell me if you want any adjustments.”

You nod, and he leans in. You feel the gentle drag of his gloved hand against your ribcage. The marker dot is so light you barely feel it.

But his breath? You feel that. Warm. Barely there. Ghosting across your sternum like a secret.

“You’re doing perfect,” he murmurs, like it’s just for you.

He marks the other side. Mirrors the placement with quiet focus. Then pulls back slowly, just enough to grab the small mirror from the tray.

“Here,” he says. “Take a look. Let me know if it feels right.”

You hold the mirror with slightly shaky hands, angling it as best you can. The dots are perfectly placed—subtle, flattering, aligned with the natural curve of your chest. The bar you picked will sit like a tiny, glimmering crown. Delicate. Pretty.

Princess shit, honestly.

“It’s good,” you say quietly. Then again, stronger: “It’s perfect.”

He smiles at that. “Then we’re all set.” He pauses. “One last time—are you sure you want to do both today? We can always start with one and come back—”

“No,” you cut in, pulse thrumming. “I trust you.”

Felix stares at you, a smile making way to his face, all warm and sunshine. “Alright, angel,” he finally says. “Let me take care of you.”

Your chest rises and falls faster now, breath shallow. You try to stay calm, but then you hear it—

the snap of his gloves. New pair. Clean. Tight against his wrists. Your thighs clench.

He moves around you like a storm gathering quietly—no rush, just inevitability. He sets the tray beside the chair. Everything is in place. Except your mind. That left the second he called you angel.

“I’m going to clean the area first,” he murmurs, voice low, as he reaches for the antiseptic wipe. “It’ll feel cold.”

It does.

The moment the wipe touches your skin, your breath stutters. His fingers are firm and steady, gloved hand guiding the motion. He doesn’t linger. He doesn’t tease.

But the way he holds you? It’s reverent. Like you’re something breakable and beloved.

His eyes flick up—just once—to check your face. “Still okay?”

You nod, voice caught in your throat. “Yeah. Mhm. Yes.”

He lets out the faintest hum—satisfied. Then leans in just a little closer, one hand bracing at your ribcage as the other prepares the clamp.

“I’m going to place the tool now, just for alignment. It’ll pinch a bit.”

You know what’s coming. You’ve watched videos. You’ve had piercings before. But nothing prepares you for the feeling of Felix’s hands—one steady at your side, the other applying pressure with the clamp, his face so close to your chest, concentration written across his features like he’s painting you.

“Breathe in…” he says softly.

You do.

“Hold.”

You do.

“Now exhale—”

The needle goes through in one clean motion.

And you gasp. Not just from the pain—it’s sharp, yes, a sting that blooms bright and fast. But also from the sound that escapes you. A sound you didn’t mean to make. Breathy. Soft. Almost… needy.

Felix freezes for a second.

“You okay?” His voice is low. Thicker now. Like he felt it too.

You nod, blinking up at him. Your pulse is racing. Your skin is buzzing. There's heat pooling low in your stomach and you don't know if it's the adrenaline or him.

He gently slides the jewelry through, screws the dainty opal ball into place. It should honestly feel like relief. But instead, it feels like foreplay.

“That’s one,” he says, eyes meeting yours. “Want me to keep going?”

Your lips part. “Yes. Please.”

And god, the way his jaw tenses at that. He nods once, sharp and focused, then leans in again. This time, when he positions the clamp, you're already trembling sightly. His free hand rest heavier on your ribcage, his thumb just barely brushing your skin and you swear you feel it through the glove. Swear you feel him everywhere.

“Same thing,” he murmurs, voice rougher now. “Deep breath in…”

You inhale sharply.

“Hold.”

The second needle slides through and this time—you moan. Soft. Small. But unmistakable. Your body arches just slightly, involuntarily. And his hand? It flexes. Grips a little harder. Just for a moment.

“Fuck—” Felix whispers under his breath.

It’s the first time he’s broken. The first time he’s let it slip.

“Still good?” he asks, but it’s not just professionalism anymore. There’s something else there. Something tight. Raw.

You nod again, cheeks flushed, throat dry. “Y-Yeah.”

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath since you walked in. Then moves quickly—threads the second barbell through, secures it, wipes away the tiny dot of blood with gentle precision. Then sits back.

Just looks at you.

You’re breathing hard. Skin flushed. Lying there, bare, pierced, glowing.

And him? His gloves are still on. But his eyes? They’re filthy. “You did perfect,” he says, voice low and quiet like a secret. “So fuckin’ perfect for me.”

Your thighs clench again. He notices. He always notices. “Let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, reaching for the aftercare.

Felix grabs the clean compress and gently warms it in his hands. You watch him as he works—his fingers moving smoothly despite the gloves, the barbell glinting faintly as he adjusts the overhead light.

When he turns back to you, there’s something different in his expression. Still gentle. Still focused. But underneath it, there’s a tension. Like he’s gripping a secret between his teeth.

“Okay,” he says, kneeling beside the chair so he’s level with you again, “this’ll help soothe any swelling. Just a little pressure.”

He presses the warm compress to your skin with slow care, one hand steady against your ribs, the other adjusting the angle. And it should be nothing. Should be routine.

But you swear his thumb is tracing circles now. Tiny, slow ones.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It shudders at the edges.

“Still doing okay?” he asks without looking up.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “More than okay.”

His eyes flick up. And you know he sees it. The flush in your chest, the rise and fall of your breath, the way your body is buzzing from more than just adrenaline.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.

“Because you touched me like that,” you say before you can stop yourself.

That makes him pause. Like he’s deciding something. Like he’s reining something in. Then he smirks—small, dangerous, and too pretty to be fair. “Touched you like what?” he says softly.

“Like it that.”

Felix pulls back just slightly, enough to let the warmth of your words settle between you. “Well, it's because it matters how I touch you.” he says. “You’re not just anyone.”

You blink. “I’m not?”

He lets out a quiet laugh, something low and breathy that curls hot in your stomach. “You think I’d do all this for someone I don’t think about every night after closing?”

That sentence detonates somewhere in your lower stomach. You short-circuit for a full second. Your brain is like a hamster in a blender.

“I—”

He’s still crouched by the chair, head tilted, watching you watch him like you’ve never seen a man before. And honestly? Maybe you haven’t. Not one like this.

“Felix.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re... dangerously good at this.”

He blinks, brows lifting slightly. “At piercing?”

“No,” you say, breathless. “At flirting with surgical instruments in your hand.”

That earns you a real smile. Bright and shameless. “Guess it’s a niche skill.”

“Niche? You’re weaponized.”

“Only against you, angel.”

And that—that—makes you cover your face with both hands and groan into your palms.

He laughs, standing up slowly, stretching his arms a bit, letting his tank ride up just a little. Tease. He knows it. You know it.

You peek between your fingers. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re so into it.”

“I’m dangerously into it,” you mutter. “You could tattoo the word ‘butt’ on my shoulder and I’d thank you.”

“Oh?” he smirks. “Is that your formal request?”

“No. I—” You sit up slightly, clutching the towel across your chest. “I do want a tattoo from you, though.”

His smirk softens into something intrigued. “You do?”

You nod. “Not today. God. Not today. I just got stabbed twice in the tits.”

He makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a suppressed moan.

You ignore it.

“But I want to book it,” you continue, trying to act casual even though your skin is still buzzing from the aftercare and your thighs are still clenching every time he calls you “angel.” “Like… I want something small. Pretty. Maybe something only I know the meaning of. Like my little secret.”

He raises a brow, hands in his pockets now. “And you want me to do it?”

You stare. “Are you high? Of course I want you. I don’t let just anyone mark me. We’re like three body mods away from you having squatter’s rights on my flesh.”

He blinks, then laughs, full and bright, head tilting back.

“Oh my god,” he says, wiping under his eye like you actually made him cry. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I’m serious,” you pout. “Pencil me in.”

He bites his lip, still grinning. “How about I pencil you in… and then take you out after?”

Your eyes narrow. “Felix.”

“Yes?”

“Are you asking me out as a reward for surviving your nipple torture?”

He shrugs, shameless. “You were really brave. I feel like you deserve dinner. Or… dessert.”

Your jaw drops. “You absolute menace.”

“I’m marking it in my calendar,” he says, grabbing his phone. “Tattoo consult, followed by post-inking activities.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re gonna sit in my chair again. But next time, I’m gonna keep my gloves on longer.”

You freeze. He winks. And your heart falls straight out of your chest. “Okay,” you say, breathless. “Book it. Tattoo. Dinner. Dessert. All of it.”

Felix grins, bright as a sunbeam. “Can’t wait to ruin you gently.”

It’s been two weeks since Felix pierced your nipples.

Fourteen days. Three sleepless nights. One erotic dream that ended with you waking up with his name on your lips and your hand halfway down your pajama shorts.

You haven’t stopped thinking about it.

Neither has he.

Not that he’s said it outright—he’s still Felix. Still sweet and composed, still texting you photos of dainty jewelry he “could see on you,” still pretending not to be the same man who had his hands on your chest while whispering you’re not just anyone.

But something shifted that day.

Now, when you walk into NO SAINT INK, he doesn’t just smile at you. He drinks you in. Slow. Careful. A look that starts at your lips and ends somewhere around your thighs.

He texts you more. Dumb shit sometimes.

saw this meme, made me think of you (you in this case = a raccoon who stole a slice of cake and got caught) do you think a tattoo of a tiny sword on the hip is slutty or powerful? asking for science btw—piercings are healing perfectly. you’re a dream client. but you already knew that

You pretend to roll your eyes. But you also reread the messages before bed. And maybe… maybe you started taking more mirror pics.

He hasn’t seen them. Not yet. But you’re starting to want him to. The upcoming tattoo appointment is officially booked. He even texted you a calendar invite.

You haven’t picked a placement yet.

Mostly because every time you imagine his fingers trailing along your skin, pushing fabric out of the way, murmuring “here?”, you lose your train of thought.

And maybe part of you is holding back on purpose.

Letting it simmer.

Because if what happened last time is any indication, then the moment you’re in his chair again—bare skin under his hands, gloved or not—you’re not leaving without his name in your mouth. And maybe something else, too.

You arrive early.

The studio’s quiet when you walk in—Chan gives you a nod from the office, barely glancing up from the booking tablet, while Seungmin mutters something about “romantic tension causing a fire hazard.”

You ignore both of them. You’re too busy trying to keep your heart inside your chest.

You’re wearing a low-back slip dress. Thin straps. Just enough coverage to stay on the right side of “I’m here for body modification,” and the wrong side of “touch me and find out.”

Your phone buzzes.

[Felix]: back room’s ready, princess.

Your stomach flips. Your thighs tighten. You walk to the private room like it’s a confessional booth.

Felix is already inside.

And god, he looks even better. How does he do that, looking better every single time. All black: sleeveless tank, loose joggers that cling in the right places, chain resting on his collarbone, hair pulled back in a way that makes you want to pull it forward.

The moment he sees you, his mouth curves into something slow and hungry.

“Damn,” he says softly. “Didn’t even start yet and you’ve already got me sweating.”

You try to play it cool. Fail instantly. “You said dress up.”

“And you listened like a good girl,” he murmurs, stepping closer, voice dipping dangerously low.

You swallow. “You ready to mark me, or what?”

He exhales through a grin. “Yeah, let’s talk placement.”

You hand him a folded sketch you’ve been keeping tucked in your bag for days. He opens it carefully.

It’s a delicate little sword, no longer than your pinky finger. Wrapped in blooming wisteria vines. The blade’s curved, fine-line. A star sits just beneath the hilt.

Felix studies it for a long moment.

“What’s it mean?” he asks, voice quieter now.

You shrug, trying not to look too vulnerable. “Strength. Softness. Holding both. And... the star’s kinda a reminder.”

“A reminder of what?”

You meet his gaze, suddenly bold. “That someone sees me.”

He doesn’t say anything for a beat. Just nods, then turns away—like if he looks at you a second longer he might kiss you before any ink gets involved.

“Okay,” he says. “Where?”

You hesitate. Then: “Ribcage. Just under the left breast.”

He stills. “Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re trying to kill me.”

You smile sweetly. “Professional setting, Lee.”

“Right. Totally,” he mutters, already snapping on gloves. “Let me just get set up before I combust.”

He lays out the stencil, wipes down the table, pulls out the fresh needle packet. Everything crisp, sterilized, exact. But you can feel it—the same electric hum from before. Worse, now. Because you both know what it’s like to be this close. To almost touch.

“Go ahead and lie down,” he says, voice carefully steady. “Top off. I’ll drape you for modesty.”

You do.

And as your dress slips down, baring the same skin he pierced just weeks ago, you hear him suck in a breath.

Then softly: “Holy shit.”

Felix exhales like he’s trying to center himself, but his eyes are locked on the exposed skin below your collarbone — the left slope of your ribs, soft and curved and waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice rough. “Didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

You smile, folding your hands over your stomach, trying to stay casual even though your pulse is in your throat.

“You did.”

He looks up at you, grinning now. “Can you blame me?”

You don’t answer. You just bite your lip. His eyes flick down. Linger. Then he clears his throat and reaches for the stencil.

“Okay. This’ll feel a little cold,” he warns.

You hum. “I remember. But you always warm me up after, don’t you?”

Felix freezes mid-step, eyes snapping to yours with that look. The one that makes your entire spine throb.

“I swear to god,” he mutters, gently pressing the damp stencil paper to your skin, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

The stencil application is slow. Careful. His gloved hands cup your side, fingers anchoring just under the swell of your breast, dangerously close to where he pierced you weeks ago.

You try not to squirm. You fail.

He notices.

“You okay?” he asks, innocent on the surface, smug underneath.

“Your hands are cold.”

“Hmm,” he hums, pulling the stencil paper away. “Let me fix that.”

He presses one palm against your ribs skin to glove. His thumb brushes the curve of your side. Not high enough to cross a line. But enough to make you bite back a sound.

“You’re evil,” you breathe.

“I’m very, very good,” he corrects. “Now stay still. Gotta check the alignment.”

He picks up the mirror, holds it out for you to see. You crane your neck, exhaling hard.

It’s perfect. The sword lies just beneath the breastbone, angled ever so slightly with the shape of your ribcage. The wisteria wraps it like it’s meant to grow there.

“Yeah?” he asks.

You nod, dazed. “Yeah. Fuck. Yeah.”

Felix smiles like he just won something. Then moves to grab the machine.

You hear the buzz before you see it.

“Okay,” he says, glancing up. “This part’s gonna sting.”

“I’ve been pierced by you,” you smirk. “I can handle it.”

He laughs under his breath and leans over you again, lining up the machine with your skin.

You brace.

And then—

The first touch of the needle.

Sharp. Fast. Immediate. But then it shifts into something else. A burn that blooms. Pain edged in adrenaline, in control, in something almost addictive.

You exhale through it, jaw tight, legs flexing slightly.

Felix’s free hand presses flat to your side. Holding you steady.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Breathe for me, baby.”

Your stomach flutters. You blink up at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything else. But your mouth has a mind of its own. “So... where are you taking me for dinner?”

Felix doesn’t pause. “Bold of you to assume I’m feeding you before I wreck you again.”

You snort. Then wince. “Don’t make me laugh. You’re stabbing me.”

He grins. “I’m being gentle.”

You side-eye him. “Are you?”

“No.” He shifts the angle. “But you like it when I’m not.”

You whimper. Quiet. Almost embarrassed by it.

He hums in satisfaction. “But to answer your question,” he continues, voice calmer now, “there’s this place a couple blocks down. Little izakaya joint. Private booths. Good lighting. Excellent tempura.”

“Are you describing the menu or your date plan?”

He leans a little closer, eyes on the sword he’s carving into your skin. “Both. You’re gonna look good across from me. All marked up. Flushed.”

You exhale shakily. “You can’t say that while actively tattooing me.”

He glances at you—eyes dark and devastating. “Pretty sure I can. You’re letting me hurt you, princess. You really think I’m not gonna whisper things while I do it?”

And then he goes quiet. Focused. Working the needle with expert care, pausing every now and then to wipe your skin clean with soft pressure, checking the lines.

Eventually, the buzz of the machine softens as Felix lifts the needle for a moment, wiping across your skin with gentle pressure. You hiss through your teeth at the sting.

But you can feel him watching you again. Not just checking his lines. Watching you.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he murmurs.

Your breath catches. “You really like saying that, huh?”

His voice lowers. “Only when it’s true.”

Another pass. Another burn. You clench your fists against the tremble in your thighs. He’s too close. You’re too exposed. And the linework is almost done.

Which means... the night’s only beginning.

The machine buzzes again before a knock is heard at the door which then creaks open just enough for Chan's voice to call in: “Closing up now. You’re the last ones in. Don’t set anything on fire.”

Felix barely glances up. “Got it.”

You stare at the ceiling, heart suddenly pounding harder than before. Last ones in. No one else here.

The door clicks shut again.

Silence.

Felix shuts off the machine.

You look at him.

He sets it down slowly, like he’s placing a weapon back in its sheath. His gloves are still on, but the air in the room is different now. Thick. Humming with intent.

He wipes your skin again. Slower this time. Too gentle.

Then leans in, close enough that his breath ghosts across your ribs.

“You realize,” he says, barely above a whisper, “this is the second time I’ve made you moan while you were half-naked in my chair.”

Your throat goes dry. “Technically the third. I think I whimpered during the aftercare last time.”

Felix chuckles, low and dark. His hand rests over the tattoo now—protective, possessive, and still gloved.

“I didn’t forget,” he murmurs.

You shift slightly, tugging the dress back up, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Don’t.”

You blink. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t cover it yet,” he says. “Let me look.”

His gaze roams slowly over your side, over the glistening ink, the subtle swelling, the flush of your skin. Then his hand follows, gloved fingers brushing the skin just beneath the tattoo.

“Looks fucking perfect on you,” he says, voice gone low again. “Like it was always supposed to be there.”

You bite your lip. “You sound proud.”

“I am proud. I marked you.” He meets your eyes, something darker flickering there. “And you let me.”

You’re not sure who moves first.

But suddenly his hand is on your jaw. Your legs shift on the vinyl. His glove squeaks slightly against your skin. Your breathing is ragged. And his thumb brushes your bottom lip like he’s debating kissing you or dragging you under.

“You still want dinner?” he asks, voice wrecked.

“I want dessert first,” you whisper.

He pulls the gloves off in one swift motion, tossing them carelessly aside. His bare hands find your waist, your jaw, your thigh—wherever he can touch now that he’s allowed to.

“Fuck the reservation,” he growls. “I need to taste you first.”

But even as the words leave his mouth—his hands already roaming your bare waist, your hip, the edge of your thigh—he pauses. Breathless. Controlled chaos.

Then he closes his eyes, jaw clenched.

“Wait.”

You blink, wide-eyed. “Wait?”

His chest rises and falls with uneven breath. He’s so close. You can feel the heat of him between your legs, the tension in his fingertips like he’s holding back something feral.

But he steps back.

“I need to wrap the tattoo,” he says hoarsely. “You just got it. I’m not risking anything.”

It shouldn’t be hot. But it is. Because he wants you bad, and he’s still putting your safety first. You bite your lip as he turns, snatching a fresh piece of second skin from the pack and peeling the backing with shaking hands.

“I’m losing my mind,” he mutters.

“Same,” you whisper.

He crouches beside you again, this time gentle in a way that feels intimate. Like the moment after a storm, where everything’s still dripping wet and raw.

“Deep breath,” he says, laying the second skin gently over the tattooed ribs, smoothing it out with featherlight fingers. His hand lingers just a moment too long—thumb grazing the curve under your breast, jaw tight as he fights himself.

“There,” he murmurs. “Safe.”

Then he looks at you again.

“And now I’m going to ruin you.”

You don’t have time to respond.

He surges forward, lips crashing against yours with weeks of pent-up tension behind it—your moan swallowed into his mouth as he kisses you like he’s starved. His hands are everywhere: one in your hair, one gripping your thigh, tugging you to the edge of the vinyl chair like he’s claiming you.

Your dress is bunched around your waist. His tank top is halfway off. His mouth breaks from yours just long enough to trail kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone—pausing just above where the second skin lies, like it’s a sacred barrier.

He doesn’t touch the tattoo. But everything around it? Fair game.

“You still sore?” he breathes against your chest, nipping the top curve just above the bandage.

“A little.”

He grins against your skin. “Good.”

His mouth moves lower—down your stomach, your inner thigh. Hands parting your legs with the kind of reverence you’ve only seen from him in front of his needles.

“You sure about this?” he murmurs, already undoing his joggers with one hand. “I need to hear it.”

“Yes,” you pant. “Felix—yes, fuck, I want you.”

“Say it again.”

“I want you.”

That’s all it takes, in a flash he sinks to his knees like a man at an altar. Hands sliding beneath your thighs, hoisting you further up the vinyl and hooks two fingers under the waistband of your panties, but briefly stops, looking up at you, eyes dark and blown wide.

“Last chance, princess,” he rasps. “You say the word and I stop.”

You barely breathe. “Don’t stop.”

The words barely leave your mouth before he drags the fabric down slow—like he’s unwrapping something precious. Your soaked panties slide over your thighs, your knees, then disappear, flung to the floor like an afterthought.

His eyes never leave you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fucking dripping.”

He spreads you open with warm, steady hands, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, holding you there like he owns the view. His voice drops, rich and wrecked.

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? Coming in here, dressing like that. Letting me mark you. Begging me with those pretty little sounds—”

You whimper.

And then his mouth is on you.

Tongue first—flat and slow, dragging up your folds with unbearable control. He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t dive in like a man desperate. No—Felix licks like he’s tasting you for the first time. Like he wants to memorize the exact shape of your cunt with his tongue.

You gasp. Jerk slightly.

He hums against you, the vibration buzzing straight through your core.

“That’s it,” he murmurs between licks. “Give me all those sounds, baby. Be my good girl.”

You whine, hips twitching as he suckles gently at your clit—just once—before pulling back with a sinful, wet kiss.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You taste so fucking sweet. Gonna keep you here all night.”

And he doesn’t stop.

His tongue circles your clit slowly, rhythmically, until your legs start to tremble. Then he slides lower, dipping between your folds, gathering slick to drag back up—wet and messy and obscene. One hand shifts to grip your hip while the other trails up your thigh, presses down gently to keep you open.

He moans into you like he’s addicted.

And then? He sinks a finger inside.

You cry out—sharp, high, desperate. “Felix—”

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” he whispers, tongue still lapping at your clit. “You take me so fucking well. Look at you—already squeezing around one finger. You’re gonna fall apart for me, huh?”

You nod helplessly, hips canting against his face.

He adds a second finger—slow, deep, curling just right—and that’s when you nearly sob. His mouth never leaves your clit, tongue stroking in tandem with the push of his fingers, and you realize that he’s building you up on purpose.

“Such a good girl,” he pants between licks. “Letting me taste you like this. Letting me wreck you right where I tattooed you. You gonna cum for me, princess?”

You’re nodding—shaking—words gone completely feral. “I want it,” you whimper. “Want you—Felix, please, I’m—”

He curls his fingers just right. Sucks your clit just once—hard.

And you shatter.

Your orgasm hits fast and brutal, ripping through you with a cry that echoes off the studio walls. Your legs lock around his head, your hands claw for anything, and he rides it out—groaning against you like he could come from the taste alone.

But he doesn’t stop. Not even when you twitch. Not when you gasp. Not when your hand weakly pushes at his shoulder.

He pulls back just long enough to murmur: “You said dessert first.”

Then his tongue dives in again.

Your body’s still twitching, legs shaking from the first high when Felix licks up your center again—slow, deep, possessive. You gasp, nearly jolting off the chair.

“F–Felix—!”

But he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow down. Instead, he presses a palm flat against your stomach to hold you down, keeps your thighs spread with one knee, and groans low into your pussy like he’s devouring you.

“Uh-uh,” he growls, lips slick, voice wrecked. “Not done yet. I haven't had my fill.”

You try to speak, to beg—but all that leaves you is a broken sound, wrecked and high-pitched as he suckles your clit again with cruel, precise rhythm.

It’s too much. You’re still raw from the last orgasm—nerves hypersensitive, thighs twitching, your pussy fluttering helplessly around nothing—

Until he slides two fingers back in.

“FUCK—Felix—!”

“Ohhh, that’s it,” he moans against your clit, fingers pushing in deep, curling—relentless. “That sweet little cunt knows exactly who she belongs to.”

You’re squirming, eyes rolling back, legs fighting between trying to clamp shut and fly open. But Felix is stronger—his grip on your hip iron-tight now, his tongue punishing you with pleasure.

“You gonna cum again for me?” he pants, lips brushing your soaked folds. “You gonna fall apart on my tongue like a good girl?”

You nod frantically—can’t even breathe right, tears blurring your vision as the coil builds again, faster, worse than before.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please, I—Felix—please I can’t—”

He fucks you with his fingers harder—wet, obscene sounds echoing through the room—and growls, voice dark and filthy:

“Yes, you can. You’re my canvas, baby. You take everything I give you. You always do.”

That’s it. That’s the push.

You shatter again—louder, messier, nearly screaming as your body spasms through the second orgasm. Your hips lift off the vinyl, legs thrashing, eyes rolling back as everything goes white.

Felix groans deep, pressing you down as you ride it out. Your hands claw at the armrests. Your voice breaks into sobs.

But he’s not done. He kisses your thigh. Licks a stripe back up your centre before he moans, “One more.”

You sob. “I can’t—!”

“Yes,” he whispers, brushing your overstimulated clit with his tongue again, softer now but no less deliberate. “You can. Gimme one more. Be my good girl. Let me break you open just once more.”

You’re crying now.

Not from pain. Not from fear. But from the intensity—the unbearable pleasure ripping through your system like a tidal wave you can’t crawl out from under.

“Please, please—” You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Release? Relief? For him to stop? For him to never stop?

Your voice cracks on the last word and that’s when it hits you again. The third orgasm crashes down. No warning. No buildup. Just your entire body convulsing. Your back arching off the chair. And a choked, wrecked sob ripping out of you, nothing coherent left.

Your cunt clamps hard around nothing—fluttering, pulsing, milking air like it’s looking for him—looking to be filled. Claimed. Ruined.

Felix groans, loud, grinding his hips into the edge of the vinyl chair.

He’s hard. Painfully hard. You can see it now—his cock straining against the fabric of his joggers, twitching as you fall apart for him a third time.

“Holy fuck,” he growls, finally pulling back, wiping his soaked mouth with the back of his hand. “You—fuck, baby—do you even know what you look like right now?”

You’re limp.

Spent.

Tears streaking your cheeks, lips parted, chest rising and falling as you try—fail—to catch your breath.

“You’re perfect,” he pants, running both hands up your thighs. “So fucking perfect for me.”

He presses a kiss to your trembling knee. Then your thigh. Then higher, higher—until he’s kissing the inside of your hip, nuzzling close but respectful of your fresh tattoo.

“Do you want more?” he whispers.

He doesn’t reach for his waistband. Doesn’t undo his joggers. He waits.

You. Choose. Even now. Even when he’s throbbing hard against the chair. Even when his hands shake with restraint.

You blink down at him, fucked-out and flushed, voice hoarse when you finally manage: “Take me. Please.”

He exhales sharply—like he’s been holding that breath since your first orgasm and finally shoves down his joggers, just enough to free his cock—thick, flushed, leaking—and fuck, he’s even prettier here too, hips flexing, tip already brushing against your thigh as he climbs up over the chair.

“No gloves now,” he says, voice dark. “You’re not my client anymore, princess. You’re mine.”

You whimper—wrecked and soaked, your thighs still trembling, your pussy still aching. But when he reaches down and strokes the head of his cock through your folds—slow, teasing, bare—your hips lift instinctively.

“Fuck,” he mutters, watching the way you glisten for him. “Still dripping. This all for me?”

You nod, brain fogged with lust, chest flushed. “I need you,” you whisper.

He lines up at your entrance, but doesn’t push in yet. Just lets the head of his cock press there—hot and thick and perfect. Your body clenches automatically, needy, desperate.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, mouth hovering over yours. “I need to hear it.”

“I need you, Felix. I need to feel you—raw, please, I want all of you.”

That’s it.

He kisses you—deep, possessive, tongue licking into your mouth as his cock finally pushes in—inch by slow, devastating inch.

You both groan into the kiss.

“Fucking hell—you’re tight,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he bottoms out. “God, you’re clenching like you were made for me.”

You cry out, arms wrapping around his neck, legs shaking from the stretch and the sensitivity and the overwhelming fullness. You’ve never felt this much before. Never this deep.

He stays still for a beat, forehead pressed to yours, letting your body adjust—whispering soft things against your cheek:

“So good for me.” “You’re taking me so well.” “Fuck, I could live inside you.”

Then he pulls back and thrusts. Slow. Heavy. The sound of skin on skin fills the studio, slick and obscene.

You moan with every stroke—every delicious drag of him inside you, cock pressing against spots you didn’t know you had. He’s everywhere—his scent, his voice, the weight of his body above yours.

“Tattoo looks even better now,” he pants, eyes flicking to your chest. “You all marked up, legs spread, letting me ruin you.”

Your nails scrape down his back. “Felix—faster—please—”

And he gives it to you, especially with the way you begged so prettily for him. His thrusts picking up—more urgent, more erratic—and your whole body jerking with the force of it.

Your cunt is so wet, so swollen, he slides in easily now—no resistance, just need. The table creaks. The studio hums. And Felix is panting into your neck, fucking you like he’s waited his whole life to.

“Gonna fill you up,” he growls. “Wanna come inside this perfect little pussy. You want that?”

You’re barely coherent now. Just sobbing, nodding, whimpering, “Yes—yes, please—I want it, want you—”

He presses a hand over your belly—right where the bulge of him shows through. “You feel that?” he pants. “That’s how deep I am. That’s what you do to me.”

You break.

Your fourth orgasm crashes into you like a goddamn tidal wave. Your body shakes violently, voice tearing out of your throat in a sound you don’t recognize, walls spasming around his cock like you’re trying to milk him dry.

And Felix? Felix is fucking gutted.

“Jesus fucking—baby,” he groans, dropping his forehead to yours, hips still grinding. “You’re so good—so fucking good—taking me like this, holding me this deep—”

Your mouth is slack. You can’t form a single word. Just loud, wet gasps as he fucks you through your fourth orgasm, dragging it out, drawing it longer, leaving you trembling and cockdrunk and gone.

“You don’t even know how pretty you look.” he murmurs, voice thick with reverence, filth, love.

Your fingers twitch against his arms. You manage a breathy, fucked-out, “Yours…”

That wrecks him.

He groans, low and animal, and his pace gets messier, sloppier—your pussy sucking him in with every thrust like it’s begging for his cum.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please, Felix—want your cum so bad—wanna feel it dripping out of me after—”

“Fuck.”

That does it. With one final, deep thrust—buried to the hilt, cock pressed right against your cervix—Felix shatters. His whole body tenses. His mouth drops open in a gasp. And then he’s spilling inside you—hot, thick, endless—his cum painting your walls as he groans your name like a prayer.

“Fucking hell—take it, baby—take all of it—”

You feel everything.

His hips twitch with every pulse, his cock throbbing as he empties himself deep inside your already ruined cunt. The warmth, the weight, the way he groans as you clench through the aftershocks—it’s overwhelming.

It doesn’t stop.

Even after he’s cum, he’s still rocking into you slowly, fucking it deeper, slow grind to push every drop in. Your body’s twitching, overstimulated and sensitive, tears sliding down your cheeks as you choke on another gasp.

Felix notices. He kisses them away. “Shh, I know,” he breathes. “You were so perfect for me. So fuckin’ good, baby.”

He finally stops. Still inside you. Still hard. Your walls are fluttering around him like they miss it already. Felix holds your face in both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks, gaze soft and filthy all at once.

“You okay?”

You nod, blinking slowly. “Yeah,” you croak.

“You need anything?”

You smile, wrecked. “Water. And maybe a new spine.”

He laughs—sweet and hoarse—and kisses your forehead. “Don’t move. I’ve got you.” You don't even realize you’re trembling until Felix tucks a hand behind your knee and lifts your leg carefully—still inside you, still breathing hard, but already shifting into his softer mode.

His real mode.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, kissing the sweat off your temple. “You’re okay. We’re done now, sweetheart. You did so good.”

You blink up at him, dazed, lips parted. And he’s looking at you like you’re made of stardust.

A few more deep breaths. Then, finally, he slides out of you. And you whimper. Instinctual. Empty. Felix immediately hushes you, hands gentle as they ease your dress back down over your hips. “I know. I know, baby. You were so full. Felt so good, huh?”

He reaches for the warm compress he prepped before the session—because of course he did—and begins gently dabbing your thighs. He’s not trying to tease now. Not trying to rile you up.

Just taking care of you.

Even wipes between your legs with a soft, sterile cloth, murmuring praise while he works. “You were amazing. So brave. Took everything. Let me see all of you. I’ve never—”

He cuts himself off. Focuses on unwrapping a clean second skin.

You murmur, sleepy but curious, “Never what?”

Felix glances up, eyes fond. “Never wanted to ruin anyone like that. And still hold them like this after.”

You bite your lip. Your heart is mush.

Once your tattoo’s dressed again—bandaged just right—he lifts you into his arms with a little grunt and a kiss to your forehead. “C’mon. You’re not walking.”

“I can—”

“Nope.” He’s already carrying you to the break room, cradling you against his chest like a princess. “You just had four orgasms and a full session. I’m your chair now.”

He sets you down gently on the couch, grabbing his own oversized NO SAINT INK hoodie and sliding it over your head like muscle memory.

It swallows you whole.

You beam at him. “It smells like you.”

He snorts. “Yeah. It’s mine.”

Then he disappears for all of two minutes.

Returns with a glass of cold water, a wrapped protein bar (definitely Jisung's, but he won't notice) and a microwaved rice bowl from the staff fridge.

“Five-star dining,” he says, setting it on the coffee table. “Don’t say I never spoil you.”

You laugh, curled up in his hoodie, eyes gleaming. “This is better than any reservation.”

He slides in next to you and pulls you into his lap, tucking your legs over his, spoon-feeding you the rice because, in his words, “Your hands are for cuddling now, not labour.”

He lifts another spoonful of warm rice to your mouth with exaggerated focus, like this is a gourmet tasting menu and not a semi-stolen leftover from the NO SAINT INK fridge. You open obediently—chewing with a thoughtful hum, cheeks puffed out, still pink from earlier and now somehow glowing even brighter from being doted on.

Felix grins. “You like it?”

“It’s definitely not mine,” you say around a mouthful. “But it’s warm and salty and I feel like I’m being bottle-fed, so yes. Five stars.”

“Perfect,” he replies, proud, like he made it himself.

You point at him with the half-peeled protein bar. “We’re still going to dinner later, right?”

He cocks a brow. “Babe. You came four times. You can’t walk.”

You glare. “I’ll crawl to the restaurant.”

Felix breaks—choking out a laugh, hand braced on your thigh. “You’ll crawl??”

“I earned tempura.”

“You just devoured this rice and Jisung's protein bar like a menace.”

You look down, horrified. “Wait… that was his bar?”

He snickers. “Yup.”

“Oh my god, he’s going to notice.”

“No he won’t,” Felix shrugs. “He has like five stashed behind the paper towels. I’ll replace it and gaslight him.”

You smile at him, gooey and gross. “You’d gaslight for me?”

He leans in, brushes his nose against yours. “Baby, I’d commit minor fraud for you.”

You sit in his lap like that for a while longer, warm and fed and wrapped up in his stupid hoodie that now smells like ink and sex and rice, your legs draped over his thighs and your heart absolutely wrecked with affection.

“Okay, but like…” you mumble, eyelids drooping. “Reservation?”

Felix kisses the top of your head. “Still have two hours.”

“Oh good.”

“You’ll need at least one of them to recover.”

“You’re so smug.”

He grins against your temple. “Only because I earned it.”

And you sigh into his neck, smiling. Yeah. You’re still getting your tempura. But first? You’re gonna melt into him for just a little longer.

It turns out things with Felix don’t just stay hot and messy—they get deeper. Softer. Somehow stupider too.

Because this man? He’s sunshine in human form. A disaster wrapped in dimples. A filthy, talented menace who will rail you in the studio at 3AM and buy you Hello Kitty band-aids for your healed nipple piercings because you’re “his cute little canvas.”

You never officially moved in—but your toothbrush lives at his place, and so do half your clothes, and so does your stupid pink mug that says I SURVIVED MY NIPPLE PIERCINGS in Comic Sans. (He custom-ordered it. With glitter print.)

Felix still tattoos you. He still calls you baby girl when you’re squirming under the needle, all flushed and squirmy and trying not to let it show how much you like it. And yeah. He still fucks you in the back of the studio sometimes.

(Okay, often.)

(Okay, every time someone forgets to lock up.)

You’re curled up on his couch now, post-round-three and wearing nothing but one of his band tees, scrolling through old selfies from the night he first took you out to that izakaya. Felix is half-asleep beside you, an arm slung across your belly, mouthing lazy kisses to your ribs like he needs to be touching you to breathe right.

And then—your phone buzzes.

MINHO [9:26PM]: glad you two are still together or whatever but also next time you rawdog in the studio maybe don’t SCREAM MY FUCKING NAME BY ACCIDENT

You blink.

Then snort—so loud it wakes Felix. “What?” he mumbles, blinking up at you with tousled hair and one sleepy dimple.

You show him the message. He stares. Then absolutely cackles. Rolls onto his back, wheezing, “I DID NOT—WHY WOULD I—”

You’re dying. “You did, Felix. When I came the second time. You said ‘Minho’s gonna kill me’ and then moaned his actual name.”

He groans, covering his face. “Noooooo. My life is over. I can never look him in the eye again.”

You curl into him, still laughing. “You’ll survive. Barely.”

“Should I buy him earplugs? A fruit basket? Flowers?”

“Just stop fucking me so loud next time.”

He peeks at you through his fingers. “That implies there’s a next time in the studio.”

You grin. “There’s always a next time.”

And Felix? He kisses your smile like a man grateful every single day that you walked into his booth and said: “So, um… I want you to pierce my ears.”

Because now? You’ve marked each other forever.

And you’re still not done.

🏷️ taglist: @cybergracie , @jupitermarss , @basicginn , @dhvnigvil , @emkvlixsx , @collin-thegreat , @somuchpanicverylittledisco , @emilyywhyy , @rainyjeno , @fawnoverdawn , @pixie-felix , @anniestay , @notmeneo , @lovslixx , @themoonlightfae , @heartwithoutaname , @yourghostneighbor , @princesskrystix , @drilles , @y2kur0mi , @mochi-space , @ivaviavi , @phelans-thoughts , @the-anon-reader , @beans4beans56 , @joyfulchaoslover , @channieismylove , @cherryoatchai , @unimportantweirdo , @seagulljk , @freckles-and-rage , @lonelydarknessblog

[iydiamartinx]

THIS MEANS WAR I

Dick Grayson x Reader x Jason Todd

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto word count: 3.6k synopsis: Gotham’s youngest neuroscience lecturer never planned to get tangled up with two of its most eligible bachelors. Both are determined to win her over—without revealing they know each other… or that they’re vigilantes. But when the Joker takes an interest in her, things get a whole lot more complicated. a/n: This story is inspired by the 2012 movie This Means War. I went back and forth on whether to write it with a named OC or in reader format—and ultimately decided to try something new and go with reader-insert. I usually write in third person with original characters, so this is a bit of a different style for me. As for who the reader ends up with… I haven’t made a final decision yet—maybe one of them, maybe both. Feel free to let me know who you’re rooting for! Hope you enjoy the chaos! warnings: None so far except for the fact that I don't know anything about neuroscience only what my research brings up, so I'm praying the shit I write makes sense

GOTHAM UNIVERSITY 

The lecture hall smelled like old paper and burnt coffee. You stood at the front, spine straight despite the fatigue threading through your muscles. Behind you, the whiteboard was half-covered in scrawls of chemical structures and dopamine pathways, neatly drawn and precisely labeled. It was the kind of lecture that left half the room wide-eyed with curiosity… and the other half silently praying for mercy.

With a quiet click, you capped your marker and continued. “Neurotransmitter binding is not a one-size-fits-all process,” you said, voice steady as your gaze swept across rows of glazed eyes and frantic scribbles. “It’s dynamic. It’s reactive. It’s shaped by genetics, trauma, medication—even what you ate for breakfast.”

A hand shot up in the second row.

“So… like, can serotonin make you hallucinate?”

You blinked. “No. And if it does, someone’s given you something else—and you should go to the ER. Immediately.”

A ripple of laughter. A few groans.

Another hand rose—this one from a sharp-eyed girl near the back. “In Joker toxin exposure cases, have you ever seen synthetic mimicry of dopamine flood patterns?”

Now that was a question worth respecting.

You’d specialized in Joker toxin during your postgraduate years, had seen firsthand the neurological carnage it left behind. The clown was a madman no doubt—but a dangerously brilliant madman.

Your mouth tugged into a faint smirk. “Yes. And no. But that’s a topic for next week.”

The clock ticked toward the hour. You fielded three more questions—one insightful, two exhausting—before dismissing the class. 

Backpacks zipped. Conversations stirred. As the last student filed out, you finally exhaled. Slowly. The silence was a relief.

Rolling your shoulders, you gathered your coat and bag, the weariness catching up to you in waves as you made your way toward the door—hungry, tired, and vaguely craving something that didn’t taste like caffeine or sugary energy drinks.

Gotham’s streets buzzed with their usual chaos—honking cabs, barking vendors, motorcycles weaving between traffic like they were flirting with death. You walked with familiar ease, the city noise fading beneath the throb behind your eyes and the pressure at the back of your skull.

Your hand drifted up to your bun. It had been tightly wound since six in the morning, and now it felt like a migraine on a countdown. Mercifully, you didn’t have to be in the lab today—no microscopes, no sterile gloves, no post-doc breathing down your neck. Just freedom. Glorious, unwashed, unbothered freedom.

So you didn’t hesitate. One by one, you tugged the pins from your hair, each metallic clink falling into your coat pocket like a tiny rebellion. The strands spilled down, wild and full of indents, but you didn’t care. You tipped your head back, rubbed at your aching scalp with slow, tender fingers, and sighed like you’d been holding your breath all day.

You looked like hell. You felt like hell. But you were done. No lectures. No lab reports. Your appearance be damned you just wanted to spend the rest of the day in comfort. 

Your boots clicked along the sidewalk as you headed toward Café Nero, already imagining the warmth of a latte in your hands—despite your earlier claim about cutting back on caffeine. A lie, obviously. Caffeine was practically your lifeblood— and something carby in your mouth.

But the universe had other plans.

You turned the corner—and nearly collided headfirst with a ghost.

Jake.

Three years of your life bundled into one name, one face. One half-curved smile that looked exactly like it used to and somehow worse now that it was being directed at someone else.

Three years of your life compressed into one name. One face. One irritatingly familiar smirk. His arm was around a tall blonde, her smile radiant and far too trusting. He wore the same smug charm he always had as he said something that had her giggling. 

He noticed you first.

“Hey!” he said, voice way too bright. “Y/N. Wow. You look…” his eyes flicked over your rumpled sweater, your wild hair, “…great. Still at the university? Tinkering away in your little lab?”

You straightened instinctively, spine snapping to attention like your body was trying to make up for the indignity of the moment. Of all the days to run into him.

“I am,” you replied, polite but clipped.

Three years together, and he still couldn’t grasp the importance of your work—or the lives it affected. Your research had been groundbreaking, and he’d always referred to it like you were tinkering with science fair projects.

The blonde leaned into his side with a warm smile. “You didn’t tell me your ex was brilliant and pretty.”

You wanted to hate her. Truly, you did. But unfortunately… she actually seemed sweet.

He laughed. “I forget sometimes.” Then turned back to you with that same infuriatingly casual smirk. “Oh—uh, Y/N, this is my fiancée, Hannah.”

The word hit like a slap.

Fiancée.

Only a year ago, you’d walked in on him and his yoga instructor, limbs tangled and guilt nowhere in sight. He’d thrown away three years with you like it was nothing—and now, not even twelve months later, he’d found someone new and locked her down with a ring so big it probably needed its own insurance policy.

You managed a smile. A real one, for her sake. Sort of. “It’s nice to meet you.” Your eyes dropped to the large, glittering ring on her hand.

“Wow,” you said with a tight smile. “That’s… that’s a big rock.” You let out an awkward laugh, trying muster the slightest bit of enthusiasm you definitely weren’t feeling on the inside. “You’re engaged. To be married.”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. Things just… clicked. It was like fate.” Then he reached out and stroked her cheek with the kind of performative tenderness that made your stomach churn. 

God. How had you ever loved this man?

“Isn’t that right, baby?” he murmured.

Someone gag you with a spoon.

You stood there, frozen in place, as Jake pulled Hannah in for a kiss—deep as if he was trying to fit his entire tongue down her throat. Screw you, you thought. Screw you for rubbing her in my face.

You cleared your throat, the sound awkward and a little too loud. “Well, I should get going,” you began—except your mouth didn’t stop there.

Your brain screamed abort, but your tongue had other plans.

“I actually have to go meet my guy. Yeah, he’s a neuroscientist too. We, uh… met at work.” You nodded like that somehow made it more convincing. “Anyway…”

You cleared your throat again, silently begging yourself to shut up.

“It was… great seeing you. And congrats. On the ring. The upcoming wedding. Your whole… life. All of it.” You winced inwardly. “Well… Peace.”

And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, you topped it off by flashing a peace sign like some glitching robot before turning and briskly walking away.

The second you were out of sight, your smile collapsed. You pressed your lips together, debating whether to scream into the sky or crawl into the nearest sewer.

“Someone kill me right now,” you muttered under your breath.

CAFÉ NERO

You finally made it to the café, and with it, your mortification began to loosen its grip. The familiar scent of roasted beans and fresh pastries wrapped around you like a warm blanket, softening the sting of everything that had come before.

Inside, it was calm—the gentle hiss of the espresso machine, the clink of ceramic, the low murmur of scattered conversations. A peaceful hum that felt like the complete opposite of Jake and his nauseating tongue display.

You slipped into your usual seat at the counter, letting your bag slump to the floor, and leaned against the worn wood like it might hold you up a little longer.

“Ah! Doctora!” Juan greeted you with a bright smile from behind the bar.

He was a sweet kid—maybe nineteen—who’d moved to Gotham from Mexico about six months ago. His English was improving steadily, though every now and then he’d still stumble over a few words. You’d quietly helped where you could. While he knew your name, he aways insisted on calling you Doctora like it was your superhero title. 

You snorted at the thought. You, a superhero? You couldn’t even save yourself from an awkward conversation with your ex.

“The usual?” he asked, already reaching for your cup.

“Si, please,” you nodded.

He glanced up with a curious smile. “Long day?”

You let out a soft groan, dropping your face into your hands. “You have no idea.”

The door chimed behind you, but you didn’t bother looking up. Not until you felt someone hovering a little too close to the seat beside you. 

You prayed your luck wasn’t that shitty.

But of course, it was.

Jake’s familiar chuckle slid into your ears like nails on glass. You closed your eyes for half a second, steeling yourself, before slowly peeling your face from your hands.

“This is too funny,” he said with a grin. “What a coincidence.”

“Right! Absolutely hilarious,” you replied, forcing a smile that you hoped didn’t look as fake as it felt as you saw Jake and Hannah standing there.

“I’m assuming this is your boyfriend’s seat?” Jake asked, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Oh, ye—”

Before you could finish, Juan slid your drink across the counter, cheerful as ever.

“No, Doctora,” he said, accent warm, words slightly clipped at the edges. “Order for one. Always order for one. Seat is free.”

You nearly choked on air.

Hannah giggled while Jake said nothing. Just raised his eyebrows slightly, in that smug little way he used to do when he thought he’d won something.

God, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

You smiled tightly. “It is. I’m meeting him back at work. Just stopped in quick. Juan, I thought I said I needed this to-go?”

Juan frowned, brows pinching together. “Mmm… no, I don’ think so. You say you finish work. You always sit here, like always.”

“Not this time,” you said—too sharp, too fast.

Juan’s face fell a little. Guilt bloomed in your chest like a bruise, he didn’t deserve that. It was your own damn fault for digging the hole in you were now.

You sighed, softer this time. “Lo siento, Juan. Can you make it to-go, please?”

He nodded, already reaching for the paper cup and bag.

You turned back to Jake with a forced laugh. “Seat’s all yours.”

The second Juan handed you the new cup and pastry bag, you thanked him quietly, paid, and practically sprinted for the door—mortified, humiliated, and more than ready to go home and bury yourself under ten layers of shame.

MILO & ANTHONY’S APARTMENT

“Ugh! I wanted to die right then and there,” you groaned, collapsing dramatically onto Milo and Anthony’s couch, a glass of wine already halfway gone. Their apartment was across from yours, and you’d made a beeline for it the second you got home, desperate to drink your embarrassment into submission. “I fucking peaced them.”

Anthony winced. “Yeah, that’s… pretty bad.”

“That’s because you need to go out more,” Milo said, waving his wine glass like a pointer. “Meet someone. Rub him all over Jake’s face like a human flex—same way he’s doing with that girl, Hayley.”

“Hannah,” you corrected automatically. “And she seemed sweet.”

“She could be as sweet as cotton candy dipped in honey and I still wouldn’t give a shit,” Milo snapped. “I give a shit about you. And you cannot keep letting that asshole rent space in your head.”

You opened your mouth, but Milo steamrolled right over you.

“Fine if you’re not ready for anything serious, but girl—you need to go out and get some good dick. That pussy is drier than the Sahara.”

You choked on your wine. “Hey! I get some!”

Milo deadpanned you. “Your vibrator doesn’t count. Honestly, it should start charging you. Thing looks like it’s about to file for workers’ comp.”

You blinked. “Have you been going through my drawers again?!”

He shrugged without shame. “I was looking for your face cream.”

“And you thought I keep that in my underwear drawer?” 

“Look, the point is,” he said, sitting forward, “you need to go out. Date. Even just a casual thing. I hate seeing you mope over that troll.”

“I’m not moping,” you muttered.

Anthony gave you a soft smile—too kind for this earth. “We’re just worried about you. And hey, for the record, we’re glad you moved here. You’re part of our chaos now.”

You exhaled, guilt and warmth stirring in your chest. “I know. It’s just… I can’t believe I was that blind. I nearly gave up everything for him. I even moved back to this shit-hole of a city—where clowns and penguins blow up buildings and guys in capes fight crime in full spandex.”

“Well, at least Gotham has a certain… charm,” Anthony offered.

“I mean, it’s great if your idea of charm is daily arson,” you deadpanned.

“We are happy you’re here,” Milo agreed, his voice softer for once. “But you’ve gotta stop beating yourself up. Even I thought he might’ve been your person—but he wasn’t. That’s on him. His loss, not yours. You’ve gotta move forward, babe.”

“I am dating,” you said weakly.

“No, you’re talking to people. You don’t even give them a real shot.” He raised his brows. “You can’t test chemistry without mixing the liquids.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s more complex than just ‘mixing liquids,’ Milo. There’s neural signaling, oxytocin regulation, attachment frameworks, behavioral conditioning… Timing alone can throw everything off. You can’t just drop two people into a room and expect chemistry. That’s not chemistry—it’s chaos.”

“Why not?” Milo shrugged. “People do it all the time. You’re overthinking it—as usual. But if it helps, just treat it like another one of your experiments.”

“It’s not that simple,” you argued. “My experiments have structure. Charts. Data. Equations. Control groups.”

“Exactly!” Milo clapped his hands. “Which is why you should try online dating. They have charts and shit.”

You let out a snort. “Please. In this city? Knowing my luck, I’d end up matched with a serial killer. Or worse—the Joker.”

Anthony tilted his head thoughtfully. “Does the Joker even online date?”

Milo groaned. “You’re both insane. There are plenty of semi-normal people on those apps. It’s how me and Anthony met.”

You gave him a flat look. “Exactly.”

You gave him a long, pointed look. “Point proven.”

“No.” Milo leaned in. “The point is you need to get back out there. Whether it’s for a wham-bam-thank-you-man kind of night, or you end up calling me crying because you just met the father of your future babies—I don’t care. You just can’t keep living in Jake’s memory. Not everyone is like him.”

You groaned, tipping back the rest of your wine in one go. “I know that.”

He raised an eyebrow, giving you a look.

“I do!” you insisted. “Look, can we table this for now? I just want to drown my feelings and make future-me regret the hangover I’m definitely earning tonight.”

GOTHAM ROOFTOPS

Boots hit the edge of a rooftop with a soft scrape of gravel. Jason Todd scanned the streets below, hands resting at his sides, jacket collar tugged up against the bite of the early spring cold. He moved with restless energy—agitated, impatient, ready for something to go wrong.

“This is a bust,” he muttered into the comms. “Three blocks, no action. Not even a wannabe thug with a pocket knife and poor life choices. I’m starting to think Gotham forgot how to be Gotham.”

There was a beat of silence before Dick’s voice came through, dry and amused.

“Or maybe you’re just scaring the criminals too much, Hood. Ever consider early retirement?”

Jason rolled his eyes behind the mask. “Only if you go first, Nightwing. I thought Blüdhaven was where all the action was—what’re you doing slumming it with us Gotham bottom-feeders?”

“It is,” Dick replied. “But every now and then I like to slum it with my baby brother. Make sure you’re not burning down half the city in my absence.”

Jason snorted. “You’re only older by what, five years and a moral superiority complex?”

Before Dick could answer, Barbara’s voice cut in over the channel, sharp and clear.

“Seems like you’re about to get your wish, Jason. I’ve got eyes on suspicious movement down at the docks—east side, Warehouse Eleven.” Barbara drawled through the comms. 

Jason was already moving, boots hitting gravel as he took off across the rooftop. “Now we’re talking.”

Dick followed a step behind, vaulting over a low pipe with practiced ease. “Arms deal?”

“Most likely,” Barbara confirmed. “Thermal scans show at least four bodies. No confirmed ID yet, but one of them matches a known associate of Black Mask.  “Be smart. And try not to level the building, Jason.”

“No promises,” he said, grin audible.

WAREHOUSE ELEVEN, EAST DOCKS

The docks were dead quiet when they arrived—too quiet. The kind of stillness that always meant something was waiting to go wrong. The air smelled like oil and sea rot, and the only sounds were the soft lapping of water and the occasional creak of aging chains swaying in the wind.

Jason crouched at the edge of a container stack, pistols holstered at his thighs, his gaze locked on the warehouse below. His breath clouded in the cool air.

“East lot’s clear,” he murmured into the comms. “Nothing but rats and roaches.”

Dick landed beside him in a soundless roll. “So, your usual crowd.”

Jason didn’t glance over. “That’s twice tonight. Keep it up and I’ll tell everyone you cried during that Pixar movie.”

“I was twelve. And it was Up, you heartless bastard.”

“Still counts.”

They moved in silence, slipping through a broken window high on the warehouse wall. Their boots hit the rafters without a whisper. Below them, four men circled a battered folding table strewn with crates, unmarked cases, and haphazard stacks of cash. A single overhead bulb flickered overhead, casting shifting shadows across the concrete floor.

Jason zoomed in with his HUD. “I know that one—left side. Carlo Mancini. Low-tier runner for Sionis. Looks like he’s about to piss himself.”

“Might mean he knows something,” Dick murmured.

They listened.

“I’m tellin’ you,” Mancini hissed, voice tight and shaky. “It’s gonna be big. Joker-level big.”

One of the others scoffed. “The hell you talkin’ about? Joker’s been off the grid for months.”

“Yeah, and now he’s back. Lookin’ for someone—some guy who used to run with him, then bailed. Word is, he took something. Something important.”

Jason’s fingers curled slowly around the grip of his pistol.

“It’s not his usual stuff either,” Mancini went on, voice dropping to a whisper. “Heard it’s from Scarecrow too. Some freak chemical—don’t kill you right away. Makes you laugh yourself insane. Till your heart gives out.”

A beat of silence.

“No cure for it, either.”

Jason exhaled. “Shit.”

Beside him, Dick’s jaw flexed. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Jason gave a tight nod. “If the Joker and Scarecrow teamed up and made something new—and someone stole it…”

Dick’s voice was grim. “Then Gotham just became a countdown clock. And we’re already late.”

Without another word, they moved.

Jason dropped from the rafters like a shadow cutting through fog, landing hard enough to make one of the thugs flinch. Dick followed a breath behind, graceful and quiet. By the time the first man reached for his weapon, Jason had already disarmed him with a sharp twist of his wrist and sent him sprawling with a solid elbow to the jaw.

Dick swept the legs out from under another, zip-tying his wrists with practiced ease. The other two barely had time to shout before they were taken down—one with a stun baton to the ribs, the other with a boot to the sternum.

Mancini tried to run.

Jason caught him by the collar, slammed him against a crate with just enough force to knock the air from his lungs. “Going somewhere?”

The runner gasped, eyes wide with panic. “I didn’t—look, I don’t know anything!”

“You know enough to be scared,” Jason growled, pressing his forearm into the man’s throat. “So start talking.”

“Okay—okay!” Mancini wheezed, both hands raised in surrender. “I just heard whispers, man. Word on the street is Joker and the ‘crow are lookin’ for someone—most likely one of his old runners. Said he took something. Chemical notes, maybe the whole damn formula. Whatever it is, it’s important. Real important. Joker’s tearing through people trying to get it back.”

Jason’s gaze darkened. “You know who this guy is?”

“No name,” Mancini coughed. “Just that he used to run logistics—backdoor stuff. Quiet type. Smart guy. Kept to himself. Real ghost.”

“Not smart enough if he got himself tangled up with the Joker and Scarecrow,” Dick muttered.

Jason’s hand tightened. For a moment, Dick thought he might snap.

“Jason,” he said, quiet. A reminder.

Jason let go.

Mancini dropped to his knees, coughing and trembling. Jason stepped back into the shadows, tapping his comm.

“You catch all that, Oracle?”

Barbara’s voice filtered in, sharp and efficient. “Every word. Red Robin and B are already digging. If this guy’s in Gotham, we’ll find him. But until then, you two are off the clock. Get some rest.”

Jason exhaled through his nose. “Yeah. Sure.”

Dick shot him a look. “Try to actually listen for once. Not everything has to be solved in one night.” 

With that, he clapped Jason on the shoulder and nudged him toward the exit—just as the distant wail of GCPD sirens broke the silence, growing louder with every passing second. Cleanup crew was on its way.

Jason didn’t answer. His jaw was tight, his thoughts already miles ahead—backtracking whispers, dissecting clues, remembering the sound of laughter that still echoed in the corners of his nightmares.

It was rare for the Joker to get invested in anything. He thrived on chaos, not consistency. But if he was serious enough to go out of his way to hunt down some nobody, then whoever had the formula was sitting on a bomb.

Next Chapter →

[wrirkresearch0]

Get Expert Research Synopsis Writing Assistance at Wrirk.com - India's Leading Academic Writing Assistance

Are you seeking expert guidance for writing your PhD thesis or research paper writing? Look no further than our professional services at Wrirk.com. We are a trusted name in the industry, offering a comprehensive range of writing assistance tailored specifically for PhD candidates in India.

Our team of experienced writers is well-versed in the required formats, including Synopsis Format,thesis writing,research proposal writing, and data analysis services, ensuring that your work meets all the necessary requirements. With our help, your journey towards achieving your academic goals becomes smoother and more efficient. Contact us now to avail of the best PhD thesis writing services in India!

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Hate your guts (pt 2)

~ bcs tumblr hates me i had to divide this into two parts, here is part 1

pairing: rockstar!hyunjin x rockstar afab!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, smut

wc: 26.6k

synopsis: hwang hyunjin, your sworn enemy. the person who finds and pushes all your buttons, annoys you and makes you angry. the person you're trying to avoid so badly, only to end up practically sharing a bed with him on tour. let the fun begin!

warnings: lots of swearing, smoking and alcohol, mentions of blood and throwing up, mild violence, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), fingering, handjob, semi-public sex, spanking, creampies, mix of degradation and praise

a/n: so... tumblr kept screwing me bcs of the formatting and i'm never writing in google docs again🙃

The next morning as you woke up, you were confused. 

There was someone behind you, their arms wrapped around you as their breath kept hitting your neck. 

You almost started screaming as you squirmed but the arms tightened around you. 

“Relax, it’s just me.” 

“Hyunjin! What the hell?” you whined, trying to get out of his grasp.

“I had a nightmare so I came back.” he nuzzled into you and you tried to move away, realizing then that his leg was thrown over you and you were essentially caged.

“How did you get into my room?” you questioned. 

“I stole your key when you threw me out.” Hyunjin answered nonchalantly. 

“You little criminal.” you frowned, trying to get out of his deadly clutch again. 

“Let go, Hyunjin.” 

“Mm… no.” 

“Hyunjin, I’m warning you.” 

You felt his smile against the back of your neck. 

“Let me hold you for a little while.” he said. 

“You held me against my will since you sneaked back in.” you fought against him.

“Stop squirming!” Hyunjin almost laid down on top of you as you whined. 

Thankfully, a knock on the door saved you. 

“Let me get the door at least.” 

Hyunjin groaned as the knocks persisted before letting you go.

“Fine, you’re free.” he pouted.

You opened the door and Brendon was on the other side.

“Oh, hey B.” you said. 

“Hey. Is Hyunjin in there with you? We can’t find him.” 

“Oh yeah, he’s here.” you confirmed. 

“Oh.” Brendon smirked. 

“It’s nothing like that!” you felt the need to defend yourself instantly. 

“Mhm. Sure. Well, Aiden and I are gonna get some breakfast so you guys can join us if you want.”

“Sure, we’ll be down soon.” 

“See ya.” Brendon winked before you closed the door. 

You made your way back to your bed and the sight made you melt. 

In your rush to get away from Hyunjin and open the door, you didn’t see he brought his teddy bear with him, the plushie friend leaned on the other pillow that was untouched.

Hyunjin was sleeping on your side, hogging your pillow and blanket like there wasn’t enough space, and what’s worse he didn’t have a shirt on and your face became profusely red in a millisecond.

“Hyunjin, wake up, we’re gonna get breakfast with the guys.” you shook him lightly. 

He muttered but never moved. 

“Hyunjin! Wake up!” you shook him again. 

“Stop calling me Hyunjin!” he turned towards you suddenly and you laughed at his cute swollen face and his disheveled hair. 

“That’s your name, silly.” you said. 

“Give me a nickname. Hyunjin sounds too formal. Unless you’re moaning it.” he smirked and you decided to put use to the other pillow and smack him with it. 

“Ow.” he whimpered. “Did you see that teddy? She’s abusing me.”

“Let’s go.” you rolled your eyes as he pouted.

Getting breakfast with Aiden and Brendon proved to be a mistake as they teased you constantly. 

“You two finally shacking up, huh?” Aiden smirked. 

“We are far from shacking up.” you grimaced and Hyunjin laughed. 

“You’ve warmed up to me, admit it.” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows as he leaned in close to your face. 

“Not admitting anything unless a lawyer is present.” you smirked. 

“Fine, don’t.” he smirked back. 

“Actually, I went to law school shortly so-”

“Brendon, shut the fuck up.” you said as everyone laughed.

“How about we hit the town?” Aiden suggested after breakfast and everyone agreed. 

You spent the day sightseeing (and getting stopped by fans occasionally) and Hyunjin insisted on taking as many pictures as he could to capture the happy memories. 

By the time you got to your room, it was almost night and you were exhausted. 

“Oh, hello there.” you saw Hyunjin’s teddy on your bed, which meant he probably left it to have a reason to come back to your room. 

You were expecting him to come in any minute, but as you showered and laid down, it was quiet. 

You almost fell asleep, the buzzing of your phone startling you. 

asshole<3: hey pretty, are you asleep

you: not anymore, what do you want

asshole<3: put your bathing suit on (or don’t) but i’m taking you to a night swim in the pool

you: no you’re not, i’m going back to sleep.

asshole<3: no we’re going swimming baby. i’m in front of your door

you: why don’t you just come in? breaking and entering seems like your thing. 

It was quiet for a moment, before you heard the keycard beeping and the door opening. 

“It’s not breaking and entering when I have a key, just so you know.” Hyunjin walked in nonchalantly, throwing his towel over the chair. 

“Did you get a spare key for my room?” you sat up in your bed, turning the lamp on. 

“Yeah, I told the desk lady you’re my girlfriend. She wouldn’t budge in the beginning but I charmed my way into getting the key.” he smiled smugly as he sat down next to you. 

“Of course you did.” you rolled your eyes. 

“Aw, were you hugging teddy?” Hyunjin smiled, pointing to his friend who was laid next to you. “I’m so glad you two are getting along.”

“He looked lonely.” you shrugged. 

“Don’t I look lonely too?” Hyunjin pouted and you made a disgusted face. 

“Please, don’t do that.” you got up as Hyunjin’s eyes followed you. 

“Are you gonna put your bathing suit on?” 

“Yes, in the bathroom.” you rummaged through your things and Hyunjin chuckled.

“I mean, we can go skinny-dipping too.” he added. 

“Yeah right.” you gave him a look before making your way to the bathroom. 

The two of you finally made your way to the pool, sneaking around as it was late. 

It made you feel like you were a couple of teenagers looking for a place to fuck. 

There was something in the air, you felt it as Hyunjin walked close to you, his eyes wandering to you constantly.

When you made it to the pool, both of you stripped without hesitation and Hyunjin’s lips parted as he started eye-fucking you openly. 

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” you smirked. 

“Not if I put my mouth to some better use.” he smirked back and you rolled your eyes as you made your way towards the water. 

“Come on, you invited me here, what are you waiting for?” you said and Hyunjin followed you, both of you getting in. 

“Fuck, it’s cold.” you hissed and Hyunjin floated closer to you. 

“We’ll warm up.” he came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your middle.

“I thought we were swimming.” you craned your neck, trying to look at him. 

“We are.” Hyunjin nosed your cheek, before brushing his lips against your skin briefly, his lip ring scratching you pleasantly. 

“H-Hyunjin.” you turned around as he released you and his face was unreadable. 

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing.” he said, a sly smile spreading on his face as he lifted his hand and splashed you. 

“Asshole!” you laughed, splashing him back. 

“Ooh, I haven’t heard that one in a while.” Hyunjin bit on his lip, playing with his piercing shortly as he got closer again. 

You squealed and swam away so he started swimming after you. 

“You know I used to compete in swimming? It’s futile trying to escape.” Hyunjin said as he kept coming closer. 

You screamed, laughing as he grabbed your ankle and pulled you into him before he cornered you against the edge of the pool. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now. You can push me away if you don’t want it and I won’t bother you again.” he started, his hand touching your waist tentatively. “Unless you ask of course.” he smirked. “The point is, if you let me kiss you it’ll be hard for me to control myself.”

“How so?” you smirked, your hand touching his arm, as you ran it up to his shoulder. 

“You can’t be that blind, y/n. I’ve always wanted you.” hearing him say that made you shiver in anticipation as your bodies got even closer. 

“Oh yeah? Show me.” you teased, brushing your lips against his. 

Hyunjin’s eyes widened for a moment as he squeezed your waist before he gave you his famous smirk. 

You leaned in and met him in the middle as your lips pressed against each other’s, his lip ring adding a satisfying pressure as he slowly moved his lips against yours. 

The tip of his tongue swiped over your bottom lip and you let him in as his hands slid down to your lower back. 

His tongue moved against yours, his piercing scraping you and adding a spark you never felt before while kissing someone. 

Hyunjin knew what he was doing, his kiss was deliberate and erotic, not what you expected of him as he claimed every inch of your mouth with his tongue. 

Chills ran up your spine when he pressed his body into yours, your legs wrapping around him automatically.

Hyunjin pushed you into the cold tiles of the pool but you didn’t care when you felt his dick pressing right into your core. 

Both of you moaned into the kiss as your nails lightly scraped his shoulders and his fingers came up to the strap of your bathing suit. 

He pulled on it, making it unravel as your breasts fell out for him to play with. 

“Whoops.” he smirked as he leaned back, looking at you with hooded eyes. 

“Nipple piercings would look perfect on you.” he said as he grabbed your tits, massaging them and playing with your nipples.

“Oh really?” you smirked and he nodded, mirroring your smirk as he pinched your nipples. 

You whimpered, grinding against him and he squeezed your breasts, he was grunting as he moved against you, the water splashing around. 

He leaned in, one hand on the back of your head as his lips attached to your skin, leaving kisses on your neck before he licked at it, his piercing tickling you a little. 

“That feels interesting.” you chuckled as he pressed himself closer to you, his skin against yours, making you feel even hotter. 

“What, my piercings?”

“Yeah.” 

“They’d be even more interesting if you’d let me eat you out.” he smirked as you traced his pretty tattoos with your fingers. 

“What, here?” you chuckled. 

“Not here. We can go back to your room.” he bit on his lip as he searched your eyes. 

Well fuck it, you thought, you were already this far, your mind still not realizing the fact that you’re making out with Hwang Hyunjin, your number one enemy or so he used to be. 

“Sure. In a minute.” you smirked, your hand tangling in his hair as you pulled a little making him hiss and bite on his lip. 

You leaned in, wrapping your lips around his adam's apple and Hyunjin whimpered as you sucked on it. 

“Mm, baby.” he whined as you swiped your tongue on it before kissing and lightly biting on his neck. 

He kept grinding against you and your pussy throbbed for him. 

His hands ran down to your ass as he grabbed you and held you in place, grinding faster against you as you kissed the tattoos on his shoulder and arm, your lips then traveling to his collarbone and chest. 

“You’re driving me crazy, princess.” he almost growled, gripping your ass and making you moan against his wet skin. 

“Am I?” your hand snaked between your bodies, until you found his bulge and gripped it. 

“Fuck!” Hyunjin grunted, fucking into your hand immediately but before he could enjoy it further, you decided to tease him and move your hand away.

“We can go now.” you whispered, turned on beyond your mind as Hyunjin clumsily helped you put your bathing suit on. 

The two of you quickly grabbed your stuff, still half wet, you made your way to your room as Hyunjin held your hand, both of you giggling like two horny teengers.

As soon as you walked in, Hyunjin tossed his towel carelessly on the floor, grabbing your wrists and pinning you to the door before you could even react. 

His thigh slotted between your legs and you whimpered as he flexed his muscle.

“Look at you. Falling apart already and I haven’t even touched your pussy.” he smirked and that feeling of annoyance he always used to give you turned you on in this moment, making you feel even more annoyed that you fell under his charm. 

You squirmed but it only resulted in your core grinding against his hard thigh. 

“Asshole.” you whined and he tightened the grip on your wrists, pressing his thigh harder into your throbbing core as he started moving it against you.

“I am.” he chuckled, leaning in and kissing you more passionately than before, his lips forceful against yours. 

You hated admitting it but you were putty in Hyunjin’s arms and he knew it as he smirked against your lips before pushing his tongue inside and swirling it around yours. 

He swallowed every moan as he kept stealing your breath, your pussy dripping with arousal and need. 

“Let go of my hands.” you whimpered as he left kisses on your jaw and neck. 

“Why?” he smirked against your skin, dragging his tongue on the column of your neck before he sank his teeth into your sensitive spot, right below your ear. 

“Ah!” you moaned, jolting into him as he sucked a mark on your skin. “Because I wanna touch you.” you answered his question. 

“Hm, should I let you?” he chuckled against your collarbone, brushing his lips there. 

“I know you want me to.” you whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek and Hyunjin let out a shaky breath before finally releasing your wrists. 

Your hands tangled in his hair instantly as you continued making out desperately, grinding against each other. 

Hyunjin’s large hands traveled all over your body, exploring and groping you, his lips and tongue lazily dragging on the outline of your breasts to your stomach as he kneeled before you. 

You looked at him through hooded eyes as he grabbed your leg and hooked it over his shoulder. 

“I thought you said you’d only kneel for me once.” you smirked and he smirked back at you. 

“Guess I was wrong.” he said before mouthing at your thigh, licking and biting, driving you crazy as he came closer to your core. 

Hyunjin grabbed the straps of your bathing suit, undoing them quickly and leaving you bare. 

“Fuck, such a pretty pussy.” he groaned, pushing his face into your core immediately. 

“Ah!” you jolted when he licked a long stripe on your pussy, his piercing catching onto your clit deliciously. 

“Tastes sweet too.” he smirked at you as you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair. 

He spread you apart with his fingers, wrapping his plump lips around your clit and sucking on it. 

“Oh god.” you groaned, banging your head against the door as he slurped on your pussy. 

Your thighs trembled as he swiped his tongue over your clit repeatedly, making sure that his piercing gives you stimulation too. 

You were holding back for some reason and Hyunjin seemed to sense it as he pulled back and looked up at you.

“Pull on my hair as much as you need to, sweetheart. You can pull, scratch, bite, I love it.” he smirked. “You can even slap me again if you’d like.” 

You gripped his hair harshly, making him whimper as you brought his face closer to your core again.

“Keep going.” you said and Hyunjin listened immediately, his tongue diving between your folds to slurp up your juices. 

The sounds his mouth was creating as he kept making out with your wet pussy were downright sinful and you were so lost in it, your head thrown back as you shook and kept pulling on his hair that you didn’t even notice Hyunjin had pulled his swim trunks down, his hand wrapped around his dripping cock as he stroked himself.

Hyunjin was loud and sloppy, constantly moaning into you like he was enjoying this even more than you did. 

Your juices mixed with his saliva dripped down his chin while he kept eating you out like a man starved, like your pussy is the best meal he’s ever had. 

“I’m gonna cum!” you whimpered, grinding against his face, his nose pressing perfectly into your clit. 

“Cum in my mouth baby, please!” Hyunjin whined and you shook as your orgasm washed over you, spilling on his tongue and chin. 

“Mm.” he moaned and licked you up. 

“Bed. Now.” he stood up, wiping his chin with the back of his hand and it took you a moment to realize he was completely naked. 

“Oh.” you stared at his dick, salivating at the thought of having him inside you, he was so long and pretty, curved just a little, his tip red and dripping with pre cum. 

He was perfect, and you needed him in any way you could get him. 

“Princess.” Hyunjin chuckled at your obvious drooling. 

He was growing impatient so he scooped you up before you could protest, getting rid of your bra in the process. 

“I need to have you right now.” he rasped, throwing you on the bed and quickly turning you on all fours as he climbed over you and pressed you into the mattress. 

You whimpered pathetically as he held you down with one hand to your back, your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing, waiting to be filled up to the brim. 

“Oh. Teddy.” Hyunjin noticed his friend still chilling on your bed. “This is not for your eyes.” he grabbed the bear and stood up, putting it in the chair and turning him around. 

“Sorry, son.” he added as you stared up at him from the bed and chuckled. 

“He can still hear us, you know.” you said as Hyunjin climbed back up on top of you.

“Mm, I hope everyone does. Don’t want you holdin’ back. I want you to be as loud as you can.” Hyunjin smirked above you, lifting your middle up and snaking his hand around to play with your sensitive clit. 

“Yeah? Then fuck me as hard as you can, Hyunjin.” you moaned, pushing back into him, trying to get him closer. 

“I hope you know what you’re asking for.” 

You felt the tip of his cock prodding at you and you gasped as he slowly pushed in, the tip breaching your entrance and spreading you to take him.

“Oh my god, fuck!” you moaned as he gripped your hips and kept stretching you, pushing more and more in until he bottomed out, his cock finding a warm home inside your clenching pussy.

“You’re so tight, baby.” his eyes rolled back as he pulled out to the tip, then pushed back into you harshly, making you whimper loudly as you fisted the sheets beneath you. 

“Yeah.” he moaned as he started fucking you with a semi-fast pace immediately, his hand coming up to push your face into the mattress. 

“Fuck yeah, take it. Take it like a good slut.” Hyunjin groaned as you whimpered and gasped while he rocked his hips into you hard. 

“H-Hyunjin, ah!” you whimpered when his tip hit the spot and he angled his hips to keep hitting into it hard, the sound of skin slapping skin filling up the room together with the sounds your pussy was making while he kept stuffing you with his cock. 

You couldn’t even hold on and you collapsed down as Hyunjin kept fucking you harshly into the mattress, pulling on your hair and giving you a few harsh spanks that made your ass red instantly. 

You kept babbling nonsense as he fucked you like a mad man, gripping your breasts or your waist, his hands couldn’t decide where to stay ‘cause he wanted all of you. 

Your orgasm shook your whole body, from your head to your toes as you creamed around his throbbing cock for what seemed like the longest time, your pleasure kept prolonging as he brushed against your spot constantly. 

Hyunjin smacked your ass again, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as you whimpered. 

“Fuck, she’s trying to milk me, isn’t she? You want that, baby? You want my cum?” 

“Y-yes, I want it!” you whined. 

“Yeah? Do you really want it?” Hyunjin smirked, teasing you, the annoying bastard. 

“Yes I do!” you moaned as he kept his pace, the weight of his body pressing you down as his breath hit your cheek. 

“Beg for it, darling.” he whispered in your ear and you groaned in annoyance, your fingers digging into the bed. 

You bit on your lip, trying to disobey him as much as you could and he chuckled darkly, grabbing your hands and pinning your wrists on your lower back. 

“You don’t like the way the tables have turned, hm? I don’t hear you begging. Do you want me to stop?” Hyunjin slowed down, his free hand traveling down your thigh and then back up towards your waist, making you shiver. 

“P-please…” you whimpered quietly, losing your mind and dignity. 

“Please what, princess?”

“P-please… Cum inside me, Hyunjin.” you moaned and he chuckled again, picking up speed as he released your hands only to grip your hips. 

You were almost screaming from the strength he was fucking you with, his hips stuttering as he dug his nails into your flesh. 

“Louder baby, louder.” he groaned, you could feel droplets of his sweat falling down and hitting your back. 

You moaned louder and you were sure people could hear you outside but you didn’t care as you came around his length again, moments later Hyunjin finally exploded inside you, filling you up with his warm cum. 

“Fuck, y/n…” he whimpered as he shook above you, pulling out as his arms wrapped around you.

He held you for a few quiet minutes while both of you were trying to catch your breath and calm down. 

He left little kisses on your shoulder as your brain became less foggy and the reality of what happened between you settled in, making your heart skip a beat and then continue to beat fast. 

Hyunjin finally rolled over and got up and you laid still, feeling a little embarrassed and self-conscious.

You remembered swearing to yourself once that you’d never sleep with him or have any kind of relationship with someone who seemingly never takes any of those things seriously but here you were. 

At least you could admit to yourself that he was the best fuck you ever had. 

Hyunjin came back with a warm wet cloth and a water bottle. 

“Let me clean you up.” he said and you looked up at him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” you answered dismissively and Hyunjin raised his eyebrow. 

“Drink some water.” he said as you sat up. 

God, he was more beautiful than ever.

His hair disheveled, his body sweaty and on display for you, a loopy smile on his face as he sat there naked, vulnerable, yours. 

“You wanna shower together?” he asked as you put the bottle down. 

“You know this changes everything between us?” you ignored his question and his smile fell. 

“Of course I do.” he touched your cheek, leaning in to kiss you. 

His lips were addicting and you couldn’t push him away. 

“Now let’s get in that shower.”

-

“Hyunjin. Y/n. Come to my room this instant.” Anthony sounded furious when he called you, just as you were eating some breakfast you had ordered after the shower. 

“Can we at least finish eating?” Hyunjin whined with his mouth full, his lips pouty. 

“Now!” Anthony yelled, making Hyunjin jolt as you looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Y’all are in big trouble!” you heard Aiden yell in the background. 

“We’ll be right there.” you said and Anthony hung up. 

“Wow, he sounds really mad.” Hyunjin frowned. 

“Let’s go find out what we did.” 

Anthony’s room wasn’t too far from yours and you were there in a matter of minutes. 

“You two!” Anthony looked like he was fuming, smoke coming out of his ears, his face bright red as his chest rose up and down deeply. 

Ana stood behind him like an angry mother, her hands on her hips as she tapped her foot. 

Aiden and Brendon were sitting on the bed, looking sulky. 

“What is going on?” you asked. 

“Have you two lost your fucking mind?!” Anthony seethed. 

“What did we do?!” Hyunjin’s tone got defensive immediately.

“They didn’t even look at social media.” Ana shook her head. 

“This is what you did!” Anthony gave you his phone and you gasped when you saw it. 

Someone was on the balcony above the hotel pool last night, taking pictures of you and Hyunjin. 

There were hundreds of articles, even a video circling the net where the two of you were going at it, making out passionately and touching each other.

The only lucky thing was that the guy didn’t manage to get any audio. 

You quickly grabbed your phone and saw that you had millions of tags on the pics and comments people left on your posts. 

Most of them were hate comments directed towards you, calling you a whore and lots of other endearing names, others were of horny people saying that Hyunjin was a lucky bastard getting to fuck someone like you. 

They were all demeaning comments, even the ones that seemed to be on ‘your side’. 

Your eyes welled up with tears as you started panicking. 

Hyunjin looked furious. 

“Who is this guy? Is he still in the hotel? ‘Cause if he is, my friends here,” he lifted his fists. “,will come pay him a nice fucking visit.” 

“There’s no point, Hyunjin. It’s already done. This could damage the band, it’s practically a sex tape.” Ana said. 

“I don’t feel so good.” you quickly sat down on the sofa and Hyunjin was on your side immediately. 

“Fuck, this is my fault!” he said frustratingly. “I made you come to the pool with me. I should’ve never done that.”

“You couldn’t predict this Jinnie, it’s not your fault. At least your shoulders were covering up my tits.” you shrugged, swallowing your tears. 

Hyunjin smiled at you as you looked up at him. 

“Something funny?” you asked. 

“No, you just called me Jinnie.” he swooned, his arm wrapping around you. 

“Ew, get a room.” Brendon acted like he was throwing up. 

“Shut up.” Hyunjin warned his bandmate before looking back at you. 

“I knew I’d get under your skin one day.” he whispered in your ear, smirking as he nosed your cheek before pressing a kiss to it. 

“Yeah, yeah. That really ended up biting me in the ass.” you rolled your eyes, shivering a little. 

“Okay, do that later. We need to figure out what to do about this!” Anthony said. 

“Nothing.” Hyunjin shrugged. “I don’t care about it. They didn’t see anything they shouldn’t have. In those pics and videos you can only see my back and the side of y/n’s face. Nothing I’m worried about. I don’t care if they know about us getting together. They’d find out eventually anyways. I’m just glad they didn’t see what’s for my eyes only.” he smirked at you and you smacked his arm annoyingly. 

“Is it now?” 

“Yes, it is.” he nodded. 

“What do you think, y/n?” Ana asked. 

“I agree with Hyunjin to an extent. Lots of celebs had scandals like this and nothing happened to them. I mean, we can still continue with our tour normally, right?”

“Well, we have to. The next show is in 6 hours.” Anthony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just don’t do this shit again. I will deal with the guy who took these and everything else. The four of you just focus on the show tonight and no more fucking in public places.”

“Is that a challenge?” Hyunjin smirked and you smacked him again. 

“Ow!” he whined and you rolled your eyes. 

You were still trying to process that all your fans have seen you kissing Hyunjin. 

-

It was almost time for the show and Hyunjin insisted on getting ready in your room, dragging his luggage there. 

Ever since last night, you couldn’t pry him off of you. 

Currently, he was sitting on your bed shirtless, all of his makeup and skincare products thrown haphazardly in front of him as he rummaged through them. 

You quickly grabbed your phone, taking a few pics of his cute pouty thinking face as he sifted through his eyeshadows. 

You pressed play on your phone, now filming a video. 

You zoomed in on his face and snorted.

“Here we can see the last brain cell of Hwang Hyunjin trying to plan out a suitable makeup look for the show tonight.” you said and he looked up, his face breaking into a smile. 

“And here we can witness the last brain cell of y/n l/n focusing so hard on me.” he said into the camera, puffing his chest out.

“Riiiiight.” you zoomed in on his nipples. 

“Are you filming my tits?” he asked, chuckling. 

“Maybe.” you smirked at him. 

“And I’m the deviant one. Can you believe this teddy?” he looked at his plush friend who was chilling on the bed next to him. 

You turned the camera to the bear as Hyunjin grabbed its head and shook it left and right in disapproval. 

You turned it off with a giggle, putting your phone aside as you stood up and made your way towards the bed. 

Hyunjin looked up at you as you neared him. 

You sat behind him, your hands on his back instantly. 

“What are you thinking of doing?” you asked, lips pressing into his flower tattoos. 

“I’m thinking you’re gonna make me hard again if you keep touching me.” he looked back at you. 

“Are you that easy?” you smirked as you kept kissing him tentatively, your hands on his waist, caressing him. 

“For you, definitely.” he said, grabbing a small eyeshadow palette. 

“Good to know.” you smirked as you kept kissing him, your hands roaming on his abs. 

“Do you think I should get a belly button piercing?” he asked as you touched him, your fingers dipping down to his happy trail as you played with it, making him shiver. 

“Why not? It would look sexy on you.” you answered, moving his hair to the side so you could attach your lips to his neck. 

“You really want to distract me, huh?” he let out a breath, trying to get his smoky eye look right while you teased him. 

“Mhm.” you kept kissing, licking and biting on him while he put his makeup on. 

“Shit!” he exclaimed, jolting as your hand snaked down to palm his growing bulge. 

“I almost poked my eye out!” he whined, but still leaned into you. 

“Shh. Concentrate.” you smirked against his skin, your hand traveling into his pants as you gripped him. 

“Naughty girl.” he smirked, looking at your lustful expression in the mirror he held up while finishing up his look. 

“Oh yes.” you grinned, taking his cock out and stroking him. 

“Y/n.” Hyunjin whined. “W-what do you think?” he turned a little, showing you his finished look as you played with his slit. 

“Pretty.” you smirked, your other hand caressing his thigh before you grabbed his balls unexpectedly. 

“Ah!” he moaned, leaning back into you as he tossed the eyeshadow palette aside. 

You sped up and Hyunjin gave in so easily that you were impressed, he was completely putty in your embrace, letting you have your way with him. 

“Wait! Turn my son around, please.” he said and you chuckled, squeezing him and earning a groan from him. 

“He can’t see anyways. My back is turned towards him.” you looked back at the teddy as your hand traveled up to Hyunjin’s nipples, playing with them as you continued stroking him. 

“O-okay.” he moaned, lifting up and fucking into your hand. 

“You like it, hm?” you nibbled on his ear as he thrashed against you. 

“Y-yeah. Don’t stop, oh my god!” he grunted, gripping at your thighs as you pressed into his back, your legs wrapped around him, your hand skillfully playing with his throbbing cock. 

“You wanna cum, Jinnie?” you giggled. 

“Yes, please.” 

“You’re cute when you beg.” you bit on his neck.

“Shut up!” he groaned but continued fucking up into your hand, desperately chasing his high. 

You laughed, licking at the new bruise you created on his neck as you doubled your efforts. 

Hyunjin mewled, his legs trembling as you jerked him off fast, flicking your wrist. 

“Fuck!” he groaned as he dug his nails into your thighs, his length twitching in your hold, as he spilled all over your hand and his stomach. 

You chuckled, kissing his cheek and jawline. 

“That was unexpected and hot.” he looked back at you and you shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises like that.” smirking, you got up. 

“Well get dressed, we’re on in less than an hour.” you said smugly, enjoying the way you had Hyunjin literally in the palm of your hand. 

“Already?! Fuck!” he got up, running to the bathroom looking silly and almost tripping over his sweatpants as you laughed at him. 

“Laugh now, until I get back at you, darling!” he yelled out.

“Can’t wait!” you shook your head with a smile, packing the rest of your stuff. 

Everyone gathered at the bus, the roadies helping with putting your stuff back in as they had already unloaded everything needed for the venue. 

Hyunjin grabbed your wrist, scaring you for a moment as you were looking at your phone. 

“What?” you looked up at him, seeing his mischievous expression. 

“Come here for a sec.” he led you away, tucking both of you behind the parked bus. 

“Wha-” he stopped you as he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours.

You melted into him, wrapping your hands around his waist, bringing him closer as your bodies pressed together.

“Our good luck kiss.” he said when you parted. 

“Sure.” you giggled, kissing him once again. “Let’s go before they get mad at us.” you added. 

“Just so you know…” his hand traveled down as he cupped your pussy through your pants, making you gasp in shock as you gripped at his shoulders. 

“I will have my way with you later.” he smirked, kissing your forehead like he wasn’t saying nasty shit to you.

“If I let you.” you pushed him a little but he just chuckled. 

“Oh, you’ll be begging for it, sweetheart.” 

-

The show was fun and crazy like always, the fans that were there didn’t seem to care about the ‘sex tape’ scandal, everyone was enjoying the performance. 

Hyunjin was even more energetic than usual, jumping up and down, dancing, screaming and doing all sorts of crazy shit. 

He made a point of looking back at you multiple times with the biggest smile on his face. 

In the middle of the performance, Hyunjin took his tanktop off as it was clinging to his sweaty body and getting in the way, so he tossed it into the audience and people almost beat each other up to grab it. 

You smirked to yourself, they may have his sweaty shirt but you had all of him last night. 

Hyunjin flirted with the fans of course, this time coming down closer to them and letting them touch him. 

You would lie if you said it didn’t make you mad, you were realizing it just then; you wanted Hyunjin all to yourself. 

Your mind managed to spiral even on stage while you played the familiar grooves automatically, and flashes of Hyunjin with different girls ran through your mind. 

What if this was just a fling?

What if he didn’t look at this seriously?

You didn’t want to fall for him but in your mind you knew it was already too late. 

You hoped he wasn’t just using you because having your heart broken for what feels like the hundredth time in your life isn’t something you’d want to go through again. 

Especially not with him. 

When the show ended and you ran backstage, Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you around as you squealed.

“Put me down, I’m gonna puke!” you whined, feeling dizzy. 

He put you down before crashing his lips against yours. 

“I want you so bad right now.” he muttered against your lips as you touched his chest. 

“You should wash off the fans’ handprints first.” you pushed him and he chuckled. 

“Aw, are you jealous?” he grinned. 

“No, you’re just gross.” 

“Liar. You’re so jealous.” 

“Am not.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m all yours.” he smirked. 

“Sure.” you said and Hyunjin frowned, pursing his lips. 

“Let’s go party, assholes!” Aiden appeared, all giddy from the show, stopping Hyunjin mid-thought. 

“Yeah, and put on a shirt, Hwang!” Brendon winked with a smirk. 

You were dragged to an exclusive afterparty without your consent but you were thirsty anyways so you ordered a beer. 

During the evening as you mingled, you lost sight of Hyunjin. 

“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked Aiden as he joined you at the bar. 

“Beats me.” he shrugged. 

You were about to look for him when he walked in, stumbling as some random girl held onto his wrists. 

“What the hell?” you muttered, anger overtaking you instantly. 

She was all over him, and you noticed he was trying to push her away but was too drunk. 

You made your way towards them when suddenly she slapped him across the face and you gasped, boiling with anger. 

“Hey, bitch.” you said as you stood next to Hyunjin and her eyes widened when she saw you. 

“Y/n! You’re here!” Hyunjin clung onto you immediately, his face dazed. 

You ignored him as you lifted your hand up, dealing a strong slap to the girl’s face. 

She gasped, holding onto her cheek as she almost tripped over her feet.

“Touch him again and I’ll break your fake nose.” 

“Woah!” Hyunjin stumbled as he held onto your arm. “She’s serious, I wouldn’t mess with her.” he said to the girl who quickly scrambled away.

“Baby. You defended me.” he pouted at you, trying to kiss you. 

“Oh my god, Hyunjin. You’re shitfaced. Come on, we’re leaving, you need some air.” you led him out, quickly telling Aiden you’ll be by the bus. 

“Why did she even slap you?”

“I might’ve called her a whore?” he grimaced. “She tried to kiss me and I said no! I have a girlfriend! I meant you.”

“Yes, I understand Hyunjin.” you shook your head, your face heating up. 

“That was so hot how you slapped her.” Hyunjin nuzzled into you as he hugged you from the back while you were trying to unlock the bus door so you could find a water bottle for him. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm. My cheek hurts though. Will you kiss it better?” he asked, burying his face into your hair. 

“Sure. As soon as you sober up a little.” you said, finally opening the door as the two of you climbed in. 

“You know what else hurts?” Hyunjin smirked, leaning on the table and almost falling down. 

“What?” you raised your eyebrow, grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge.

“My dick.” he grinned. 

“Just shut up and drink some water.” you shoved the water in his hand as he giggled. 

You were annoyed, wondering if you were overthinking things and Hyunjin acting all nonchalant made you feel even more angry. 

That kind of attitude he always had bugged you, it seemed as if he took everything in stride, as if he wasn’t afraid of losing anything, as if he took nothing seriously, like nothing mattered to him other than himself. 

“What’s wrong?” he pouted, trying to hug you.

And you hated how he could read you like a book. 

“Nothing. We’ll talk when you’re sober.” you said, folding your arms on your chest. 

“Are you mad at me?” he swallowed. 

“I don’t know.” you shrugged. 

“You don’t know?” he tilted his head as you avoided his eyes. 

“I’m mad at myself.”

“Why?”

“Because… Just because.” you shook your head. “I don’t wanna get into it.”

“Is it because of the girl?” he looked at you confusedly.

“No Hyunjin, it’s because of all the girls. The way you act like it means nothing to you so whatever this is between us probably doesn’t matter to you either. You only look to satisfy yourself, not caring about hurting someone else’s feelings. And frankly, I can’t deal with that. I can’t believe I’m saying this to you but I want something real, I don’t want to be used for your pleasure and then thrown away like I was just one of your little groupies.” you couldn’t stop talking, a weight lifting off of your chest. 

“Is that all you think of me? That I’m so shallow and conceited?” he asked, seemingly sobered up all of a sudden.

“I’ve never seen proof of the opposite.” 

“Fuck then let me prove it to you! Of course I care about your feelings, y/n and I never looked at you as one of those groupies. I don’t need anyone but you and this means everything to me.” he shook his head. 

“What?” you were in disbelief, Hyunjin had never sounded so serious before. 

“There you are.” Ana came in, followed by the rest of the gang, and you leaned away from Hyunjin.

“I’m gonna go shower.” you used the situation to slip away. 

Your thoughts were racing as you stood under the warm water. 

Was he telling the truth?

You went through a rollercoaster of emotions, too exhausted to think after the whole day. 

You laid in your bunk as everyone settled in to sleep after showering and eating some dinner. 

It didn’t take long for Hyunjin to climb up. 

“Hey.” he whispered as you sat, expecting him to show up. 

“Hey.” you said and he smiled. 

“So, are you gonna give me a chance?” he bit on his lip, playing with his lip ring nervously. 

You sighed, studying his expression. 

He looked sincere, scared even, his eyes becoming big as he pleaded. 

“Okay.” you said and he chuckled.

“Yes!” he exclaimed.

“Shh. You’ll wake everyone up. And don’t fucking waste this chance, Hyunjin. Because it’s the only one you’ll get.” you warned him as he crawled closer to you.

“I promise I’ll make the best of it.” he said, leaning in to kiss you. 

You didn’t even realize how much you missed his kisses, when it has been hours since you last felt his sweet lips on yours. 

“Remember what I said earlier?” he smirked, lowering his voice as his hands massaged your thighs. 

“Mm?” you mirrored his smirk, pretending to be clueless.

“I’m gonna have my way with you now.” he grabbed you, pulling you to lay under him as you gasped in surprise. 

Hyunjin’s fingers trailed up your thigh with feather-like touches up your already dripping pussy. 

He ran his fingertips over your clothed folds, drawing a deep breath from you. 

“I took off my rings.” he whispered, wiggling his fingers.

“I can see that.” you whispered back as he found your clit, pressing into it and touching you teasingly, slowly.

 He kept smirking at you smugly as he hooked his fingers into your shorts, pulling them down with your panties, noticing you wore lacy ones under your pjs. 

“Cute panties. Shame they came off too soon.” he giggled as you lightly slapped his arm, your face becoming red in embarrassment.

“I’m keeping them.” he said, putting them aside as you rolled your eyes with a smirk. 

Hyunjin leaned over you, his face inches away from you as his lips hovered over yours. 

“You have to be a good girl and keep quiet. Can you do that, princess?” he said, his fingers back on your clit as he started massaging it in circles, making you arch your back towards him. 

“Y-yeah.” you whispered, your eyes fluttering.

“If you make a sound, I will stop.” Hyunjin gave you that famous shit eating grin.

“No, I’ll be quiet!” you whispered.

“Good. Now shut up, darling.” he said with a smirk, his fingers teasing your folds. 

You bit on your lip as he teased you, playing with your clit as he pinched it occasionally, almost making you moan. 

He was enjoying how wet you were getting as he concentrated on your sensitive nub, his other hand traveling beneath your shirt to play with your breasts. 

“You look so cute like this.” he said and you wanted to slap him for the condescending tone he used, but at the same time your pussy clenched, a gush of arousal dripping out of you. 

“You know why?” he added as he observed you, his fingers dipping between your wet folds as he teased you. 

You shook your head no. 

“Because only I get to see you like this. Only I get to unravel you, sweetheart.” he looked at you lustfully as he slowly pushed his fingers in, making you gasp as your legs trembled for a moment. 

Your pussy sucked two of his fingers right in as he chuckled under his breath. 

“You take me so well.” he bit on his lip as he slowly moved his fingers, massaging your inner walls. 

“Ngh.” you moaned, pushing up into his hand, begging for more, deeper, faster. 

“Sweet girl.” he whispered, leaning in to kiss your jawline and neck. 

You melted, your legs opening up completely for him as he fucked into you a bit faster, curling his fingers to find that spot. 

“Look at you.” he pinched your nipple and you swallowed a moan. “So giving.” Hyunjin chuckled darkly as your legs shook. 

He sped up, finding that spot and making you moan quietly as you bit on your lip hard. 

“Am I making it difficult for you?” 

The fucking bastard. 

“Answer me.” he said sternly and you whimpered. 

“Yes, you are.” you said and Hyunjin chuckled.

“Good.”

The bunk bed filled up with sounds of your wet pussy as you dripped all over his hand, your entire body was trembling, your heart beating fast as your eyes rolled in the back of your head, you’ve never been this aroused in your life.

“T-they’re gonna hear…” you whimpered silently as Hyunjin kept abusing your pussy with his fingers, pistoning them into your heat as you clenched around him, trying to ignore the enormous pressure building up inside you. 

“Oh yes, they are. They’ll hear what a filthy slut you are for me. They’ll hear your little pussy sucking my fingers in. You’re so nasty, baby.” he fucked you even harder as you gasped.

“F-fuck! I-I can’t…” you thrashed against the bed, tears gathering in your eyes as you tried to squeeze your legs around his arm involuntarily. 

“Come on, let go for me.” he looked smug as he fucked you fast, his eyes full of lust. 

You almost cried out, biting on your lower lip hard, drawing blood as the metallic taste filled up your mouth, making your mind float. 

“God, you really want to edge yourself.” he smirked.

Tears slid down your cheeks as you trembled violently and you bit down on your arm, finally not being able to hold in anymore as you exploded, squirting all over your thighs and Hyunjin’s hand as he fucked you through your orgasm, his other hand abusing your sensitive clit. 

“That’s my good girl. I’m proud of you.” he pulled his fingers out as you gasped, watching him as he licked at his hand. 

You were in shock, never having finished this violently that the muscles in your legs were cramping, never has a man managed to make you squirt. 

“Y/n?” Hyunjin leaned over you, wiping your tears. 

“I-I never squirted before.” you admitted and Hyunjin smiled proudly. 

“Really?” he looked excited suddenly and you chuckled. 

“Really.” you nodded. 

“Well, I’m gonna make you squirt again.” he smirked and you looked down, realizing he was stroking himself. 

You had no idea when he took his pants off. 

“Mhm.” you wrapped your legs around him. 

“Mm. So wet.” he pressed his tip against you, massaging your folds with it. 

“Just put it in.” you gripped at him and he smiled, burying his face in your neck. 

“A little needy, I see.” he said and you made your point by bringing him closer with your legs so that his tip slipped inside you, making him moan into your skin quietly. 

“You’re just as needy for me.” you tangled your hand in his soft hair, inhaling his shampoo, your other hand caressing his back as he pushed his cock inside you slowly, bottoming out as you gasped quietly.

“I am.” he said, kissing your neck as he started rocking his hips into you, his hands gripping your waist. 

“I’m not gonna last long. Watching you squirt for me almost made me cum.”

“Mm, it’s okay, Jinnie.” you wrapped your arms around him as he whimpered quietly into your skin. 

“Say that again.” he nibbled at your ear, rutting into you desperately. 

“What, Jinnie?”

“Yeah.” his cock was hitting all the right spots inside you, the pressure you felt before building up quickly again. 

You dug your nails into his shoulders and he hissed, biting on your neck, his hand on your hip and the other on your breast as he squeezed it. 

“Jinnie. My Jinnie.” you whined quietly and he groaned as the bed started creaking, now it was more than obvious what you were doing. 

“Fuck, tell me I’m yours.” Hyunjin moaned, grabbing your wrists and pinning them on either side of your head as his hips snapped into yours, his pubic hair brushing against your clit deliciously, adding more friction to your sensitive parts. 

“You’re mine, Hyunjin. All mine.” you moaned and he kissed you sloppily as you clenched around his cock. 

“I’m all yours, princess.” he pressed his forehead against yours and you whimpered, exploding around him as you squirted again, your nails drawing blood on his back. 

“Shit!” Hyunjin’s entire body trembled as he pushed deeper inside you, his cock twitching as he filled you up with spurts of hot cum. 

“Mm.” you moaned. 

“Take it all, baby. Milk me dry.” he groaned as your eyes filled up with tears of pleasure and you came once again, squeezing around his length, forcing him to spill every little drop he had inside you. 

“Fuck.” Hyunjin collapsed on top of you, both of you wet and sweaty as you wrapped around each other. 

“You think they heard?” you asked after some time and Hyunjin lifted up to look at you, caressing your face.

“Oh yeah, definitely.” he smirked.

“Bastard.” you squinted your eyes with a smile as he giggled. 

“You can call me anything you want as long as you keep calling me yours.” he said, kissing your lips gently. 

“I take it this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” you asked, carding your fingers through his damp hair.

“I don’t have to ask, baby. You’re already mine.” he bit on his lip, his eyes filling up with lust again. 

He was going to drive you crazy and you loved it. 

-

The next morning as Hyunjin and you walked into the living area of the bus, everyone looked up at you with knowing smirks. 

“Oh, Jinnie, ah!” Aiden started moaning so Hyunjin came up to him and smacked the back of his head. 

“Shut up, dickhead.” Hyunjin said as your face heated up. 

“So, are you guys like together now?” Brendon asked. 

“Yes, we are.” you answered, pouring yourself some coffee.

“Finally! Y’all owe me 20 bucks each!” Brendon said as everyone around the table groaned.

“You bet on us getting together?” 

“We all bet on when you are going to get together. I was the closest.” he smirked as you shook your head. 

Hyunjin ignored them, pulling you to sit in his lap. 

“You two are gonna be disgusting all the time now.” Aiden scrunched his face up. 

“You’re just jealous.” Hyunjin smirked at his friend, pulling you flush against his back as you sipped on your coffee. 

“Yeah, I am.” Aiden sighed. “Oh, now we have two couples here.” he added and everyone looked at Ana and Anthony who were quiet almost the whole time. 

“Oh I knew there was something there.” you chuckled. 

“Well… seems like we’re still single.” Brendon winked at Aiden, his hand on Aiden’s thigh as he leaned in, making an exaggerated kissy face at him.

“Ew, get away from me!” Aiden pushed him as everyone laughed. 

“Gimme a sip.” Hyunjin leaned on your shoulder, pursing his lips as he looked at your coffee cup. 

You giggled, turning on his lap a little as you gave him your coffee. 

The bus parked in the designated place as Stu joined you.

“I’m not even gonna ask.” he looked at the two of you.

“By the way, I have something for you.” Hyunjin whispered, kissing your shoulder as everyone got back to scrolling on their phones or conversing. 

“Oh yeah? What is it?” 

“Come, I’ll show you outside. Bring the coffee.” he nudged you with his leg and you squealed, getting up. 

The two of you sat nearby, as Hyunjin pulled out his cigarettes. 

“Want one?” he asked. 

“We can share.” you shrugged and he smiled, lighting it up. 

He puffed out the smoke then took a sip of coffee.

“So, what did you want to show me?” 

“You know how I have a favorite guitar pick? My lucky red one, I always play with it?” he started.

“Yes, what about it?” you asked, curiously tilting your head. 

He reached into his pocket, smiling as his cheeks became rosy.

“I made it into a necklace for you.” 

“Oh.” your heart skipped a beat, you were touched. “When did you do that?” 

“Well, after that night I slept over in your bunk bed for the first time.” Hyunjin admitted, looking at his feet.

“Woah. Then?” you were shocked at the revelation. 

“Yeah, I knew you’d be mine before the end of the tour.” he smirked.

“Did you now?” you asked, grabbing the cigarette from his hand.

“It was my mission to annoy you so much that you finally cave.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you puffed the smoke out into his face.

“Well, it worked.” you said. 

“I’m glad it did.” he motioned for you to turn around so he could put the necklace on you. 

“Thank you, this is really sweet.” you said as you played with it. 

“No need to thank me. I, ugh, also wanna tell you something.” he added and you nodded.

“Are you aware that you inspired almost all of my songs? So, it’s kinda funny that you’re playing songs that are actually about you.” he said and you choked on the coffee as you started coughing. 

“Shit, are you okay?” he quickly tapped your back with his hand.

“Some of the songs are years old…” you said as he cautiously took the cigarette from between your fingers and brought it to his lips.

“Mhm.” he nodded, looking at you as you processed the information. 

“You… always liked me?” you frowned and Hyunjin nodded.

“But why did you bug me like that all the time, making me think you hate me?” you asked. 

“This is gonna sound like a bunch of bullshit. But you seemed to hate me from the day we met and I was scared of you. I thought if I ever tried to approach you normally you’d spit in my face and tell me to fuck off.” 

“You’re right. That does sound like a bunch of bullshit.” you looked at him annoyingly as you pinched his arm hard, making him yelp.

“What was that for?!” he whimpered.

“For being an idiot.” you said and he whined. 

“What did I do now?” 

“I liked you right away, Hyunjin. But I saw how you treated Macy, and concluded that you were just some pretty heartless bastard who played with girls like they’re toys so I decided to hate you so I’d stop liking you.” 

“Who’s Macy?” he looked at you confusedly and you pinched him again.

“Ow!” he yelped, rubbing at his arm. 

“The girl you dated back then? The curly blonde who worked in the company?”

“Oh, I forgot her name. We only hooked up like four times. It meant nothing to me- ow!” you pinched his arm again.

“Stop with the abuse!” he whined and you chuckled.

“See, that is exactly what I was talking about.” you scolded him and he pouted.

“I know you just called me a heartless bastard but you also called me pretty so I’m gonna ignore the rest.” he said, making a weird face as he leaned away from you.

“What are you doing?” you gave him the elevator eyes.

“Trying not to get pinched again?” he answered and you let out a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” you said and he squinted at you.

“Look, I promise!” you lifted your hands up in surrender.

Hyunjin exhaled, chuckling as he moved the coffee cup aside and scooted closer to you, wrapping his arm around you. 

“I promise I know your name.” he teased.

“Hyunjin!” you smacked his chest, laughing as he chuckled, pulling you into a hug.

“In all seriousness, I plan on being totally devoted to you.” he said, kissing your cheek. “You’re my ride or die.”

“I like that.” you smiled, your heart leaping out of your chest as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. 

“Me too.” Hyunjin leaned in, kissing you passionately as you almost climbed into his lap.

“Save that for later, we need to practice!” Brendon yelled suddenly and the two of you parted, seeing everyone piled up on the windows, staring at you.

“Nosy bastards.” you chuckled fondly as Hyunjin pecked your lips.

“Come on, we gotta rock the stage tonight.” he got up, reaching his hand towards you. 

You knew tonight was going to be completely different. 

And it was.

You listened to the lyrics carefully, realizing that Hyunjin had really been singing about you this whole time and you were clueless, thinking he was writing songs about his little groupies or the girls he hooked up with, but there was only one girl who was his muse and it was you. 

-

It was quiet in the bus the next morning, the end of the tour was near so  Hyunjin and you decided to take some time to chill in the back of the vehicle.

There was a big bed there, and when your friends saw the two of you leaving to the ‘fuck room’ as the called it, they decided to disperse away, with Aiden yelling ‘Don’t forget to change the sheets!’ as he left.

You were enjoying a peaceful moment, Hyunjin sitting on the bed with his guitar as he picked at it absentmindedly, playing random melodies. 

You were looking up tattoo designs, thinking that it was finally time to get one of your own. 

Hyunjin’s playing soothed you and you were lulled into a calm state until he started playing a familiar melody, making you jolt. 

You turned to look at him and he grinned at you. 

Hyunjin was playing your warm up song, the one you wrote when you were little. 

“H-how did you-” you started and he chuckled. 

“You think I never paid attention to you?” he licked his lip as he continued playing. 

“Stalker.” you smiled, your face heating up. 

“A romantic stalker.” he snickered and you shook your head at him. 

He smiled at you fondly, suddenly singing the lyrics. 

You couldn’t believe he knew the song by heart, it almost made your eyes tear up so you turned away from him. 

Hyunjin stopped playing and you felt the bed shift before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him. 

“I’m sorry if I upset you.” he whispered, peppering your cheek and jaw with kisses. 

“No, I was touched. That song means a lot to me.” you said as Hyunjin squeezed you tighter. 

“I know, baby.” he said, dragging his bottom lip on your skin, his lip ring brushing against you and making you shiver. 

“Are you looking up tattoo designs?” Hyunjin peered over your shoulder, leaning his chin on it. 

“Yeah, but I can’t find a perfect one.”

“I can sketch one for you.” he said and you looked back at him.

“You’d do that?” you asked and he nodded with a smile. 

“Of course! We could even get matching tattoos.” he smirked. 

“You do know those are forever?” you bit on your lip and Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed.

“Yeah, I know.” 

You searched his eyes for a moment before turning towards him and crashing your lips into his.

Hyunjin moaned against you as you kissed him desperately, your tongue playing with his lip ring shortly before you pushed it into his mouth. 

Hyunjin’s eyes rolled back as you gripped his hair, pulling his head back harshly. 

He groaned, grabbing at your waist and you pressed your middle into his, grinding against him instantly. 

“B-baby…” he whimpered against your lips as you felt him grow under you. 

“Jinnie.” you smirked, your lips on his jaw and neck as you slid your arms under his shirt, caressing his abs. 

Hyunjin let out the most delicious moans as you kissed him and touched him, every little sound made more arousal gather on your panties. 

He chased your lips when you looked up at him but you pressed your palms on his chest, pushing him down on the bed as he fell with a thud, his arms on either side of his head.

He smirked at you as you tugged at his clothes. 

“Princess, are you needy for me?” he asked, his voice raspy and eyes lustful as you practically ripped his pants off. 

“Shut up Hyunjin. I’m gonna use you.” you smirked, taking his shirt off. 

“Use me however you want, baby. It’s all yours - ah!” he whined when you slid his boxers down, grabbing his cock and playing with it, teasing his slit with your thumb as you slid down. 

“Y/n…” Hyunjin gasped when your breath hit his navel. 

You didn’t answer, you were too busy as you licked a stripe on his length, following the vein all the way to the tip where you played with his slit. 

“Oh my god!” Hyunjin groaned. 

You giggled, your eyes crazed with lust as you spit on his cock, jerking off only his tip and Hyunjin’s legs trembled for a moment. 

“Fuck, you’re so nasty baby.” he hissed. 

“Am I?” you leaned in closer, teasing his tip with your tongue again. 

“Stop teasing me.” Hyunjin already sounded breathless. 

“Or what?” you smirked before wrapping your lips around him as you started sucking him off fast instantly, like he was the tastiest lollipop and Hyunjin jolted, moaning loudly. 

“Shit!” he exclaimed as you sucked him off like no tomorrow, quickly swallowing his entire length as your nose pressed into his pubic hair, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag around him.

Hyunjin gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you gripped his thighs, bracing yourself while you sucked him dry. 

“Such a nasty slut. Drooling all over my dick. You like choking on it, hm?” he smirked and you moaned around him, your pussy begging for attention. 

Hyunjin whined, his head hitting the pillow as he fucked up into your mouth. 

Just as you felt that he was close, you quickly pulled off when he least expected it.

“Why’d you stop?” he almost cried out but stopped himself as you started stripping. 

“I’m gonna ride you.” you said and he chuckled. 

“Do what you want with me.” he gripped onto your hips as you adjusted above him, grabbing his cock and running the tip on your folds. 

You slid down, taking all of him in as both of you moaned at the feeling. 

“Mm, so warm and wet baby.” Hyunjin pushed up into you immediately. “I need you, y/n. Please fuck me.”

He looked so desperate after you edged him with your mouth and you enjoyed seeing him like that, falling apart for you, his hair splayed everywhere around his head, his forehead sweaty, his face twisted somewhere between pleasure and pain, lips swollen as he kept biting on them, his hands gripping at you like you were his life line. 

You put your hands on his chest as you started fucking on him fast, your thighs slapping against him, making him whimper as the bed shook and Hyunjin gripped at the sheets, fucking up into you to meet your pace. 

“Y/n, fuck! Harder, fuck me harder!” he begged and you gathered all your strength, fucking on him as hard as you could and he grunted loudly, holding your hips as he fucked up into you. 

“That’s it. Good girl. I’m gonna carve the shape of my cock in your pretty pussy.” he smirked between gasps and you whimpered loudly, exploding all over his cock, lifting up and squirting on his twitching length. 

Hyunjin let out an animalistic groan when he saw that, grabbing your arms and swiftly turning you around, pressing your knees to your shoulders as you gasped, dizzy from your orgasm and the sudden movement. 

He didn’t give you any time to recover as he pushed his dick deep inside you, your pussy taking him immediately. 

“Ah!” you moaned loudly. 

Hyunjin looked crazed as he fucked you hard immediately, his hands grabbing at your breasts. 

“You’re gonna be mine forever, princess. I’ll fill you up good and make sure of that.” 

“H-Hyunjin.” you gasped, throwing your head back as you dug your nails into his biceps. 

“Mm, y/n.” he whined as his hips stuttered and you came around him again, your pussy gripping his cock. 

Hyunjin grabbed your hand as he came hard, filling you up with what seemed like endless ropes of hot cum. 

“I love you.” he breathed out and your eyes widened, your core clenching around his softening cock. 

His eyes widened when he realized what he said, both of you frozen for a moment. 

Hyunjin looked panicked immediately but you grabbed his face, making him look at you. 

“I love you.” you smiled and he visibly melted. 

You heard voices outside, both of you gasping as you jerked away from each other, quickly picking your clothes up. 

“Are y’all done fucking?” Brendon yelled from the front as you got dressed clumsily while Hyunjin tried to gather the dirty sheets. 

Embarrassment washed over you when you felt his cum seep out of you, dripping on your panties. 

“No we’re not!” Hyunjin yelled and you chuckled. 

“I don’t want them to come in here yet.” he pulled you into his chest. 

“Why?” you looked up at him. 

“I- I meant what I said, y/n. I love you.” he said. 

“I love you too, Jinnie. I also hate you just a little, sometimes.” you joked and he giggled.

“That’s okay, as long as you turn that hate into passion.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Of course.” you promised and he leaned in to kiss you gently.

-

Six months later…

jinnie<3: babe i have a surprise for you

you: should i be worried?

jinnie<3: maybe… no?

you: just come home

You shook your head with a giggle, today was exactly six months since Hyunjin and you started dating. 

You didn’t waste much time, moving in together only a few weeks after the tour ended. 

Hyunjin was more clingy than you anticipated but you wouldn’t have him any other way. 

You waited for him to come home, hugging teddy as you sat on the sofa, both of you wrapped in a blanket. 

Dinner was already finished and Hyunjin’s gift was ready, the lacy black and red set right under the inconspicuous pjs you had on. 

“Honey, I’m home!” he snickered as he came in, slamming the door behind him before he all but ran to you. 

“Careful.” you laughed as he tripped over the carpet.

He gave you a pointed look but his arms wrapped around you and teddy as he hugged you tightly.

“Missed you.” he nuzzled into your hair and you giggled. 

“We missed you too.” you said and he leaned back.

“Do you think teddy missed me more than you did?” he teased.

“Oh definitely.” you smirked and he pouted so you pulled him into another hug, and he yelped.

“Ow. Be careful.” he jolted and you squinted your eyes at him.

“What did you do, Hyunjin?”

“Remember when I asked if a belly button piercing would suit me?” he grimaced.

“Did you get a belly button piercing?!” you gasped and Hyunjin chuckled before he took his shirt off. 

Sure enough, there was a fresh piercing above his belly button. 

“Oh wow. It’s perfect.” you bit on your lip and he exhaled.

“I’m glad you like it.” he said, looking relieved.

“Is that my gift?” you chuckled. 

“Kind of, but also this.” he pulled out his sketchbook, flipping through the pages. 

“It’s the tattoo you wanted, I finished designing it.” he showed you the sketch and you gasped. 

“Hyunjin! This is beautiful!”

“It’ll look even more beautiful on you.” he leaned in to kiss you. 

“I wanna do it as soon as I can.” you said and he chuckled.

“Maybe we could add our matching tattoo then.” Hyunjin’s cheeks flushed.

“Oh? You have an idea for that?”

“Yeah but stop me if it’s too cheesy or if you don’t like it.” he said, looking nervous all of a sudden as he flipped through his sketchbook again. 

“Just show me.” you smiled and he gave you the sketchbook. 

“See it’s part of a rose for you and part for me, my vision was to have it tattooed on the side of our thumbs so when we hold hands, it becomes one flower. What do you think?” 

You stared at him for a moment as your heart fluttered. 

“Hyunjin, that’s so sweet. I love that idea.” you caressed his cheek as he smiled. 

“I’m glad you do.” 

Both of you leaned in, your lips meeting in a tender kiss. 

“Where’s my gift?” he smirked and you snickered, lowering your shirt a little, just so you could tease him with a glimpse of the lacy bra. 

“Oh. You wore the set.” he licked his lips. “Mm, the best gift ever.” his eyes became foggy in a second as he leaned in with pursed lips.

“Nuh-uh!” you put your finger on his lips. “No dessert before dinner.” you smirked and he rolled his eyes with a smile. 

“Fine, I’ll eat you up later. There’ll be nothing left of you just so you know, darling.” Hyunjin said, burying his face in your neck and inhaling the sweet perfume you put on for him, the one that drives him absolutely insane. 

“Also, please put on a shirt before I explode.” you added as he leaned back and he laughed, his body shaking with it. 

“Sorry.” he winked, getting dressed.

Hyunjin chased you to the kitchen as you grabbed teddy and started running from him, squealing as you rounded the table. 

He tricked you, going left then right and you fell for it, your body ending up in his comforting embrace. 

“I think teddy is hungry.” Hyunjin said, making you giggle.

“Mhm, and what about Jinnie?” you smirked and he chuckled. 

“Jinnie is starving.” he whined dramatically.

As the apartment filled up with warm laughter, the first snowflakes started falling outside, signifying a new beginning, a sense of calmness and peace washing over you, the warmth and comfort you felt at that moment enveloping the two of you completely. 

The happiness was almost tangible as it traveled through the air. 

If someone would’ve told you you’d end up living with your sworn enemy, Hwang Hyunjin, you’d call them crazy while laughing in their face. 

But here you were, every moment with him by your side was precious even when he drove you crazy at times.

After dinner, you skipped out to your balcony to light up a cigarette and enjoy the view of the city as all the roofs slowly became blanketed by snow. Hyunjin joined you, draping his leather jacket over your shoulders when you shivered, his arms wrapping around your frame.

“I’m starting to think you keep forgetting your jacket on purpose.” he squinted his eyes at you and you giggled.

“Maybe I am.” you looked back at him as he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

“Well, you can always wear mine.” he whispered, turning you around so he could give you a gentle kiss.

Who knew that your band falling apart would bring you together with the love of your life? 

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @scarlet789 @ooshyana @frehyun @skzdust @simpforleeknaur @schniti-is-in-the-house

[mailmango]

One-on-One

Pairing: Professor Henry Cavill x Student Male Reader

Genre: Fluffy Smut, MDNI

Kinks/Warnings/Notes: AMAB Reader; Calling the reader a slut, a whore; Calling the reader a good boy, praise; Slapping and spanking; Age gap; Professor x Student

Length: 5.1k words, Fic

Synopsis: You're one of the lucky few to have ever experienced one of Professor Cavill's lectures. And you are the lucky, singular person to have ever experienced his heart-racing one-on-one session.

A/N: oml hiiii! If you're reading this, then thank you very much! this is my first time writing something over a thousand words (of my own volition) in probably 3 years at least! It's also my first time writing serious smut GAHAHAHAH I would appreciate feedback (totally optional), but most of all, hope you enjoy :D

Credits: @/aquazero for the divider and @/starboye for helping me with formatting and tagging!! ^-^

I picked this one just for you! I hope it’s sweet and juicy…

You’ve always liked your Ancient Mythologies Studies class. It was an easy A, one that came packaged with an interesting topic to boot. Who doesn’t want to hear of the religions and myths of civilizations from thousands and thousands of years ago?

The answer is most people. It was one of the smallest classes–even with a size cap of twenty, it had barely filled out ten slots. It seemed most people simply didn’t take interest in the subject. That meant that most people were poor, unfortunate people, because they didn’t have the pleasure of knowing Professor Cavill. 

Professor Cavill had worked at the university teaching their Ancient Mythologies Studies class for the past several years. He was a graduate of this school and, after having established himself as a prominent archaeologist, he opted to take time and teach a course for two sessions weekly. In his words he, “Wanted to help inspire any young people with a passion for learning about those that came before us.” 

You had found those words so, so interesting. But it was more so about the man saying them. 

Professor Cavill–Henry–was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his mid-forties. He was kind and considerate to each member of his class, treating them with a warmth and manner you’d read about in an overly unrealistic romance novel. And yet, he was very much real. You had class with him every Monday morning and Friday night. 

Classes which you would sit in, bouncing your leg and hiding a raging boner as you watched the man fiddle with and adjust his tie. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N, are you sure you’d rather not attend the festivities?” 

Ah, just your luck, wasn’t it? Your college had been holding a concert for a handful of its alumni to celebrate their band’s first national tour. The university had decided that, due to the band falling under the alternative genre, they would allow classes to continue should any students or staff be disinterested. 

It just so happened that, as much as you weren’t opposed to them, you also weren’t heavily inclined to actually attend their show. You had figured that at least one of your ten classmates would feel the same. 

Apparently not.

Hence, you now sat alone in a small lecture room, the chairs beside you empty as you stared at your beloved professor, Professor Cavill. 

“Ah, no, professor. Were you looking to attend?” 

“Myself? My personal taste doesn’t align with their music. As much as I love Clive-” 

Clive was the lead singer and, as you recall, one of Professor Cavill’s former students. 

“-we’ll be meeting for a congratulations dinner tomorrow evening. We’ve already discussed.”

He smiled, dimples forming, as he flipped open his files for the night’s lecture. 

Then he had to reach for his stupid tie. 

“Would you mind if I loosened my tie? I’ve been feeling warm as of earlier this evening.” 

His large, somewhat hairy hand was already holding the knot one either side. He did it often; you had come to suspect it was an unconscious habit at times. He would tug at his tie, calling attention to his strong chest or those bulging biceps…

Damn his stupid tie. Today, it was his blue tie, one you knew to be one of his favourites. He wore it at least thrice a month, most often during Friday sessions.

Every time he would touch it, toy with it, it sent shivers down your spine and blood straight to your cock. You almost weren’t sure if you hated or loved that he was almost never without one.

“Ah, not at all, Sir. Go ahead.” 

“Thank you, Y/N.”

God, your name sounded so good out of his mouth. He drew the syllables out, gave it this weight that you hadn’t heard your name spoken with before. You could get addicted to the way he had said it just now. You were tempted to find an excuse to have him say it again. 

That opportunity came as, for the first time, he pushed past absentminded tugs at his tie and now pulled the knot away from his chest. For the first time, you saw his neck without the tie drawing attention. It almost sounded manic to say but… the sight began to draw you in. 

And then he overshot it. The tie came off, knot still done, but it was completely removed now. He stared down at the cloth before using his free hand to undo it, leaving it nice and straight in his hand. 

“Do you mind if I forgo it?”

Eye contact. He made eye contact with those god damn near hypnotising eyes. They really were unique; the man had something called segmental heterochromia. He had mentioned it once before. It meant that his left iris, though mostly blue like his right, had a patch of brown in its upper half. 

It felt mystifying, like a siren whose song you couldn’t ignore. He continued to look at you, and without him breaking eye contact, you were hopelessly unable to do so yourself. Instead, you simply muttered a weak response. 

“Go ahead, Sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Class seemed to fly by. Your hand wrote on its own as your legs bounced, mind and senses completely and utterly hinged on the man’s every word and movement. Though he entranced you each time you sat in on his lectures, tonight was different. You had always blamed his tie. It’s the tie. The playing with the tie, his stature with it, that’s what you blamed for your constant erections. 

But it was difficult to deny it when, as the man orated with his tie discarded, you found your cock throbbing more eagerly than you can remember it having ever done before.

Sweat rolled down your forehead from the heat you were feeling. You cursed yourself, begging that the man would somehow not notice the warmth that afflicted you. But, as you let yourself look at him again, really look at him, you were both relieved and mortified to find that he was under the same circumstances. 

“Is the air conditioning broken?”

His words were breathless as he fanned himself with his papers. He was tugging at his collar now, further exposing his neck, now slick with sweat. It seemed to be bothering him more than it was you, somehow. 

“I-I think so.”

You could barely manage to let the words out. Your breathing had gotten unsteady, mind and body unable to focus as the man groaned from the discomfort. Seemingly without realising, his hand undid the two topmost buttons of his shirt. It exposed his chest–a strong chest covered in wild, dark black hair that you had been completely oblivious to the glorious existence of.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Is something-”

Of course now he notices your stares. It couldn’t have been when it was something that was easily explained away, like you were staring at him due to intent listening. No, it had to be when your gaze, which he followed, led down to his exposed chest. His exposed chest which had, mortifyingly, caused a wet spot to form in your pants. 

“Ah, my apologies. Let me redo my button-” 

“No! I mean-”

Your words came out too eager. Your brain was screaming at your mouth not to speak, to not make an utter fool of yourself. But your mouth chose to go rogue, instead opting to speak like a horned-up teen begging his boyfriend to keep making out with him. 

“Y-you don’t have to. I don’t mind.” 

An eyebrow was cocked in your direction. 

“Is that so, Y/N?” 

Your silence was used to scream, rather than actually think of anything remotely close to damage control. 

“Y-yes Sir. I don’t mind if you keep your buttons undone.”

“If that’s the case, then…” 

Was this… reality? Surely it could be. It was impossible. 

You were sitting there, cock leaking with precum like you were a virgin watching your first porno, as your handsome professor began to undo buttons, one after another. He was exposing himself further and further with each passing second, each button exposing a new section of chiselled, hairy, sweat-covered skin.

His breaths were deep and heavy, sighs and groans of relief sending more and more sensations to your cock. Every vibration of his vocal chords seemed to be felt in full force by your erection, not helping your situation in any way whatsoever. 

Then the man had the gall to take his shirt off, folding it neatly and placing it aside. 

His body truly was magnificent. Plush, thick muscles were a constant, whether you looked at his chest, his abs, his shoulders, or any of his muscles. They radiated strength, covered in that same black hair as on his chest and equally slick with sweat. His body glistened under the dim light of the lights hanging above, almost like a gladiator fresh from battle. 

How the hell were you supposed to react? What the hell were you supposed to do? 

“Y/N, it’s hot, isn’t it? Would you mind if I further… undressed?”

How the hell were you supposed to say no to that? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost pathetic how easily the man got you to fish your cock out of your strained pants. Little more than an offhanded request, actually. 

Now you sat, pants and underwear around your ankles, your own shirt unbuttoned, as you feverishly pumped your erect dick. Your hand glided up and down due to the slickness of your overflowing precum, breathing unstable and desperate. But you were helpless, the possibility of you stopping a distant memory.

Professor Cavill was now nearly nude. He had discarded his elegant brown leather shoes and well-tailored pants, also in a neat pile on his desk. It left him, his statuesque form, completely exposed to you and your horny, unabashedly feral mind. It was a wonder you hadn’t cum yet. 

“Keep pumping for me, Y/N. Be a good boy and keep going.” 

Fuck, you couldn’t stop. Not when he said your name in a gruff, demanding voice. Not when he called you the sweetest pet names. Not when he stared at you, panting and eager, with a hunger that a predator has for its prey. 

Most especially when his cock strained against dark, black fabric, as he rubbed along his clothed shaft as he took in the sight of your desperate form. 

“Prof-” 

“Henry. Call me Henry, Y/N.” 

Shit, you could feel your cum about to well up and burst. 

“Henry!” 

He gave you a curt nod of approval. Your stomach pulsed with excitement. 

“P-please, fuck me-!” 

You looked at him, eyes wide and begging, and desperately awaited a reply. With mercy, he gave you one. 

“Alright, Y/N. I’ll fuck you.” 

You let out a pathetic, strangled mewl as your cum sprayed up and onto your sweaty torso. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Henry–gah, you got to call him Henry–had a cock that you couldn’t fully process was actually human. It was too perfect. It was thick, nearly as thick as your wrist though thankfully just short. It was lengthy, having had to be nine or ten inches at full mast. His balls were heavy, full of cum that he was eager to let out, and the base of his shaft was buried in a wild, thick, furry bush. 

It was so close to you. It throbbed in front of you as you sat in your chair, the proximity allowing you to see the thick, pulsing vein that ran from base to near the tip. It let you watch as that fat, mushroom tip leaked a viscous, sticky precum. It lets you inhale that delicious, heady musk, intoxicating your mind and sending it reeling. 

It was almost too much to process. Almost.

You were far, far too eager to begin sucking on the fat shaft. Who could blame you? People would pay good money to get a taste of a cock this perfect. 

Fuck, the taste! A salty, somehow indescribably masculine taste, that flooded and overwhelmed your mind. It felt like you were at risk of addiction. Nothing had ever or would ever taste this damn divine. The copious amounts of thick, even saltier, precum being pumped into your throat was an excellent, equally addictive addition.

Even though it hurt and strained your jaw to stretch that wide and accommodate its length, the activity felt simply euphoric. If Henry would let you, you’d opt to do nothing more and nothing less than worship his cock, day and night. 

“That’s a good, good boy, Y/N. Lube up my cock.”

You always were one to follow Henry’s instructions. Always one to listen, to be a good, obedient puppy. Maybe that’s why you were his favourite. 

And, as he uttered praise and guided your head with a large hand’s firm grip, you certainly weren’t going to start disobeying now. With a hum of acknowledgement, you dutifully continued your task.

Once satisfied, Henry grunted and lightly tapped the back of your head. 

“That’s good, baby. That’s enough. Come, get off my cock now.” 

Part of you wanted to resist. How were you supposed to tear yourself away from his dick? It sounded impossible. But, you were eager for his praise, to hear him call you a good boy again. So, with one last deep dive down, your nose pressed into his hairy bush and your lips to the base of his shaft, you reluctantly pulled your face away and off of his delicious dick. 

“Good fucking boy. You’re a very, very good boy, Y/N.” 

Your cock throbbed with lust-filled need as you nodded with pure excitement. 

“You deserve a reward. Lay on my desk, Y/N, and let me take care of your now.” 

This was somehow the easiest instruction of the night to follow. You found yourself, now nude with your clothes having been folded just like Henry’s, laying on your back on his wooden desk. The surface felt cold and hard, but the feeling of a sturdy base comforted you. You knew that you’d need it. 

As you took deep, steady breaths. The first of the night, actually. Your mind was trained on one thing, one concern rather. 

How would you take his monstrous cock? 

The answer would come soon. Without warning, your legs were lifted by two strong hands. You looked down, seeing as Henry in all his glory set your ankles on his broad shoulders. He began pressing light kisses to your skin, beard tickling your skin, as he maintained unwavering eye contact. It caused you to let out a soft laugh, which he opted to respond to. 

“Your voice is beautiful, Y/N. Save it for me, okay?” 

You felt it then. His fat, throbbing, steaming hot cock was set beside yours, pressed between your dick and your thigh. He was slowly and subtly moving his hips back and forth, groaning at the sensational friction.

“You’ll let me hear you sing tonight, yeah? Let me hear your wonderful voice, Y/N.” 

His words were sweet like honey. It was almost enough to distract you from the prodding of his thick fingers against your tight hole. But, as you felt them push past your tight ring of muscle, your voice came out like the gates had been torn down, a moan resounding through the room. 

“There you go. Good boy… moan for me. Let me hear each and every one, okay?” 

You stared at him, eyes half-lidded, and nodded with an eager need to please.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Deep breaths, Y/N. Deep breaths for me now…”

How could someone so sweet cause so much pain? Henry was hunched over, his large, comforting hands on either side of your head as he hovered his face no more than four inches from yours. His heavy breaths fanned against your cheeks as he kept a steady, solid eye contact between you two. It was wondrous how much fire brewed within you from such a mundane act. 

“Are you ready? I’m going to insert the tip, alright?” 

He looked at you with such care and concern that it almost shocked you. He was a big, hulking man with a terrifyingly huge cock, but as it has come to be shown, a larger heart. It was so damn cheesy, wasn’t it? 

But that didn’t matter as you nodded once again, body unable to take the anticipation, the waiting, for him to shove his fat cock inside. 

…Except maybe it had to. His cockhead slipped inside with ease, but that wasn’t to say it wasn’t fucking painful. You let out a strangled half-moan half-scream, and within seconds, those large hands were patting the side of your head.

“Y/N? Is it too much? I’ll stop, okay? Should I pull out?”

Henry was kissing your forehead, your cheeks, the sides of your lips. He muttered small praises and comforts, every other kiss targeting a tear that had fallen from the pain. He kept true to his word; his hips remained still, his cock not pushing a millimetre further inside. It was from that moment of calm that, as you adjusted to the burning stretch, you were able to speak. 

“D-don’t. Just- give me a second to-“ 

You huffed out, desperate for air. 

“-adjust!” 

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. He tasted, somehow, better than his cock. It wasn’t quite something you could place, to be frank. It was a savoury taste, one with hints of candies you couldn’t identify and a tea whose flavour you couldn’t imagine. But it was entirely and wholly the delicious thing you’ve ever or will ever have. 

That was worth getting addicted to. And if Henry would let you, you’d chase that taste every single moment you can. Something told you that yeah, he would. 

“You’re doing so, so good for me, Y/N. So good, you feel so good…” 

Henry’s voice was low and comforting, just as much, if not more than his calming touches. He spoke in whispers between each kiss, and it led you to slowly, but surely, adjust to the pain. Before you had even realised, all you felt was the desire for him to push even further. 

“H-Henry, you can move now… please…” 

“Are you sure, Y/N?” 

Hearing your name roll off his tongue, so casual by this point, only cemented your enthusiasm. You nodded slowly and weakly, smiling the best you could. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful… Hold on to me, and tell me if I need to stop, okay?” 

Your cock nearly bounced at the praise. You eked out another nod as your hands came up to rest on his shoulders, leading him to return your smile with one of his own. And fuck, it was gorgeous. 

He kept his movement slow. It was torturous, but you could appreciate the time and the caution he took. His face watched yours, now scanning for any sign of pain or discomfort. At every wince or scrunch, he would stop, waiting for a nod or smile as your sign of readiness. 

“You feel excellent, Y/N. Being with you… I could get obsessed with this feeling, you know?” 

He leaned down to kiss you yet again. He kissed you, giving you yet another helping of that impossibly lovely taste: his taste. 

And then… then he brushed against your prostate, his cock like a mallet smashing into a button. Even slow, it sent a shock up your spine and a resulting heat through your nerves. Your loud, vulgar moans were taken with great joy and adoration from Henry, his smile only growing fonder. 

“You sound so good, Y/N. Let it out for me…” 

Perhaps you took it a tad too far as your cock, with the pressure to your prostate, burst with another spray of hot, sticky cum that painted both tour and Henry’s stomachs. Such a reaction was met with a warm laughter. 

“Not what I meant, but I’m not complaining. It’s good to know you feel good, baby.” 

He leaned in for yet another kiss and, in the hypnotising exchange, you just barely processed a large, encapsulating hand taking hold of your cock. Henry began to spread your cum across your own shaft, using it to pump your still-sensitive cock towards unbearable pleasure. 

“I’m gonna keep making you feel good, okay?” 

Sweat had beaded all over your skin now, streams running down your body as Henry’s own dripped down and onto your frame. He was pushing just a bit faster now—you almost couldn’t take the wait any longer. That once painful stretch had evolved into pleasure. It had evolved from a burning heat contained to your ass and spread into this resounding, unending warmth washing through you. In the process, it had devolved you into a writhing, moaning mess.

His cock was large, that was certainly clear. It was the kind of large that made your stomach bulge, the kind that you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to take with ease no matter how many times it had fucked you. And shit, you hoped that it would fuck you so, so many more times. 

But your composure only broke down further when his cock seemed to reach so impossibly deep inside, spreading your insides apart like it was trying to break you. Moan after moan fell out as your back arched involuntarily, only accentuating the bulge in your stomach. 

“Baby? Y/N?” 

You hadn’t even realised it, but Henry had stopped pushing himself deeper. Now, as he buried into what felt like the core of you and sent waves of electrifying heat with even the slightest twitch of his dick, his hips were flush against yours. He had bottomed out. 

“Henry…” 

Words other than the man’s name didn’t seem to be able to form. He, however, had so much to say. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing, Y/N. You’re taking me so damn well…” 

The hand not on your cock let go of your face and glided down your body, tracing lines down your shaking body, and stopped just over the bulging portion of your stomach. He brushed it gently, causing yet another crackle of electricity to wrack through you.

“Can… can I start to move?” 

Oh, you could’ve broken your neck with how fast you agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit, shit! You feel so damn good, Y/N.” 

Henry’s calm demeanour had taken a backseat. It was still there, in careful touches to your face and sweet caresses of your body. You could still hear it in every little praise he threw out, and every loving glance he gave your half-lidded eyes. 

His hips, though, had practically lost any form of restraint. 

He withdrew and pushed back in with speed and force, hips slamming with a harsh and sharp slap. Your ass felt sore by this point, but it was a warm, comfortable soreness when paired with the sheer, blinding pleasure of Henry’s cock. 

By the gods, the pleasure was insane. It was driving you mad, your vision going white. His cock, no matter how many times it was thrust into you, remained impossibly large and impossibly deep-reaching. It felt as though it only went deeper and deeper with each push, a result of your fractured state. 

But how could one stay sane when their body was being overwhelmed with such unimaginable pleasure. 

As drool began to spill and your eyes rolled back, Henry was quick to grab you by the chin and lock you into yet another kiss. Unlike the times before, though it carried the same sweetness, it was now heavy with a hunger, a need. He hungered for you, and he needed to fucking ruin you. 

And Henry’s a man who accomplishes his goals, isn’t he? He began thrusting into your harder, harsher than he had before. He thrust over and over and over again, his movements without a single missed beat or second of hesitation. 

His kisses remained constant too. His thick, strong tongue had shoved its way past your pretty lips and began to gnash against your tongue. It was a strange but nonetheless mind numbingly good feeling to have him invade your body even further. 

By now, his grip had transferred to and firmed on your hips. He kept you nice and planted in place on that damn sturdy desk of his, even as each thrust threatened its integrity. His pace was relentless, the wood starting to creak with his forcefulness. 

He drew back, saliva still stringing your mouth and his. 

“Y-you feel good, Y/N?” 

Who knew this man could stutter? But fuck, he made it sound hot. He sounded so lost in the pleasure, and even then, so firm in his every word. 

“Y-yes!” 

He gave a crooked smile at your words. 

“Good! Do you like the way I taste, Y/N? The way my spit tastes?” 

How vulgar was that? And how vulgar was it that, the second you tried to respond with a very clear yes, he decided to drop a fat glob of hot spit onto your cheek? He brought his thumb up to rub it into your skin and, hell, you were about to thank him for it. 

You couldn’t as he cut you off with yet another breathtaking kiss. You were left panting and unable to speak at all when he pulled away.

“You’re a whore, you know? A beautiful, obedient, whore.” 

His words carried no malice, only a heavy lust that he was just barely stopping from pushing him towards ruining your body completely. 

“But you’re my whore, alright? Don’t you ever fucking forget.” 

He slapped your cheek. It wasn’t one of anger, moreso just trying to snap you into focus. He wanted an answer and, as his best and favourite student, he knew he would get a reply out of you. 

“I-I’m your whore, sir!” 

It was a miracle you could speak, really. It was especially miraculous because the second he heard that, with one resounding slam of his hips into yours, you felt it. 

“Fuck, Y/N!”

In the moment, as you arched your back and let your mouth flow with moans at the highest possible volume, Henry’s cock pumped gush after gush of burning hot, viscous, cum. 

It felt like molten steel, an impossible extreme of everything that semen was meant to be. And as such, it brought the pleasure you felt from having your stomach pumped full of it to a high that you could never reach with any drug imaginable. 

And through it, his hips hadn’t chosen to stop. Every thrust was now being punctuated with a new load of cum filling your already full belly, each one followed then with another slap to your ass or lust-driven proclamation of love. 

“God, I love your tight fucking ass-”

You were screaming as you came at the height of the moment’s intensity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t sure when the night ended, exactly. It seemed that the man had fucked you for hours on end, until he had emptied his fat balls’ storage of cum and filled your belly with it. He had fucked you till your cock hurt, and each climax produced a dry orgasm due to empty tanks. 

He had fucked you till you were left unable to think of anything but his cock and the taste of his sweet, delicious lips.  

And now, he was buried deep inside you still, pressing kiss after kiss to your neck as you desperately gasped for air. 

“Did I go too hard? Are you hurt, Y/N?” 

Your body was, in fact, aching. It was this numb, almost muffled pain that was eclipsed—or perhaps even part of—this euphoric pleasure that continued to grasp you. Things no longer felt real, at this point, but a dream you’d rather not wake from. 

But things were very much reality, and that included a high-off-sex and full-of-affection Henry. 

“I apologise for the slaps, they were rather forceful…” 

You managed out a shake of the head to signal a no. The laugh that he gave, boisterous yet quiet, made your heart pound again. 

“I see. I suppose we’ll need ample time to explore what we both enjoy, hm?” 

The idea of more time with Henry, more time doing this, was certainly exciting. He didn’t need more than your dumb little smile, one you couldn’t wipe off your face even if you wanted or tried to, to tell you thought. 

“I can see you like the prospect, hm?” 

Another chuckle and another kiss. What bliss this was. 

“I’m going to pull out now, so that we can both get cleaned up, okay? Just breathe for me, Y/N, just like earlier.” 

You tried to follow, you really did. But as your hole was quickly left empty, gaping and clenching around nothing, you couldn’t help but whine unintelligible mutterings. Henry responded with even more pecks to your lips and caresses to your soft, delicate skin. 

Henry was certainly a gentleman. He had taken some tissues from the box he reserved for students with colds and used then to to clean the outer portion of your sloppy hole. His hands, as large as they were, moved soft and delicate, careful not to press against any overly sensitive parts. 

He had taken to cleaning himself—drying his cock, much to your dismay, with more paper towels. He had noticed your sadness and, with an admittedly smug smirk, said he’d allow you to suck his cock clean next time. It was still strange, even after the night you had had with him, to hear such lewd language uttered from the refined man’s mouth.

By the time he had dressed himself, your breathing had steadied. Your backside was still sore and leaking, but he had promised to help with that back at his apartment. 

Wait.

His apartment? 

“Ah, would you rather not? I can clean you up in the facilities here and-” 

“No, no! I’d-”

You coughed. All the sweat, mixed with what was now cool night air, had left your body just a tad sick. Well, that and the exhaustion from having taken on such an impossible task and cock. 

“-love to. I’d love to go home with you, Henry.” 

He smiled like he hadn’t heard anything quite as lovely before. You smiled back in return. 

He was the eager to tug on your boxers and wrap you in his suit jacket as a means of decency. He lifted you up bridal-style and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The man was strong and, with the ease that was carrying you, he even held your folded clothing in the hand supporting your butt. 

You even found the strength to be humorous in the moment, letting out a joking, “Ooh, strong guy, huh?” 

He graced you yet again with one of those pure, unadulterated laughs.

“I’m glad to have had this one on one session with you, Y/N. Certainly was productive, wasn’t it?”

THANK YOU to my lovely beta readers! There's a shit ton GAHAH

@inhumanshadows @worstwolverinesbf @darlingminjin @alatrysev @starboye @spermeboy @starrykie @sleep-0-deprived @slytherslvt @kurominis

Love you all :D you're all soooo nice and helped me finish this with your kind comments! Hope I didn't let you down with the end :>

[bartxnhood]

be my lover | kim hongjoong

mob!hongjoong x fem!reader

synopsis: in which hongjoong doesn’t like that fact you don’t care he’s cheating on you. arranged marriage or not.

warnings: arranged marriage, cheating, swearing, mentions of blood and killing people, hongjoong is kind of a dick but he’s in love, probably more.

w/c: 2.8k

a/n: oof okay i haven’t written for kpop in SOOOO long and this is officially my first ateez fic. i saw the ateez in cinema thing and wow. hongjoong wrecked me SO HARD HAHAHA OMG (jongho ily look away) anyways, i decided to finally write for my ult group!! enjoy!!

a/n: pt.2 ALSO readers personality is kinda based off of polly from peaky blinders iykyk. nonchalant badass!!!! happy reading!!

disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction and does not represent ateez or kim hongjoong as a person.

not proofread

requests open

Copyright © 2025 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧

growing up, every girl has their dream. maybe it’s becoming the first woman president, or to travel the world. but for most, it’s getting married.

the most romantic proposal. trying on the dress until you find the perfect one, wearing that ring your significant other picked out, the flowers, venue, and marrying your true love.

that was your dream, too.

but you didn’t get to live that dream. no, you were thrown in the deep end after your twenty-third birthday. no proposal, no wedding, no dress, no flowers, not even a beautiful ring. a simple gold band was all you were given by the man you married.

“it will benefit our family, don’t you want to make your family proud?” your father would say, after you had gone off on him. yelling in his face about your freedom, how you didn’t ask to be born into the life that your family had. of course, you did.

you left home for college, left the country to focus on schooling, unaware that your father was tracking you down and had his henchmen kidnap you and bring you home.

you were married two weeks later to kim hongjoong.

boss of sector one.

he was the most successful and notorious bosses of the current era, your father trailing somewhere behind him. hence, your involvement.

a contract written up years ago between your father and hongjoongs father. then, hongjoong inherited his father's gang, and the members who held his closest friends. all he needed was a wife.

you.

it was truly your worst nightmare, sharing a home with a violent and dangerous man, with equally dangerous henchmen.

but you managed. you had your routine and adapted to the way of your new life. you could adapt to anything, it was one of your many talents.

hongjoong wasn’t a man of many words. on the field, giving orders, he was straight to the point and commanding. no time for jokes or anything of the sort. when hongjoong had a mission, it was to be done and done quickly without getting caught.

in and out.

however, in his time being the leader, he found it to be incredibly lonely. he had no one by his side, he was often left alone with his thoughts and an unlimited amount of liquor.

hongjoong always knew about the marriage; his father would hold it over his head whenever he acted out of place. truthfully, he didn’t know what to expect when that day came. but it wasn’t you.

you were normal. you dressed normal when you two were married. hongjoong told himself that he could easily ignore you and continue with his job.

you acted like he didn’t exist, you’d barely look his way, you wouldn’t even speak to him unless you were working.

eventually, hongjoong made it his mission to break your walls. he was growing tired of the nonchalant facade you had. he couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t fathom how you just didn’t care.

because deep down, hongjoong cared immensely about you. more than he’d ever admit out loud.

the first time hongjoong ever actually treated you like his wife was during one of your first missions when both of you had to be present. something about a money laundering scandal on hongjoongs territory.

yeah, that didn’t last long.

the two of you walked in the gala, his hand around your waist. to your surprise, his touch was rather gentle and soft. hard to believe, coming from the man who could command a country with a wave of his finger.

he was accommodating your every need, making sure you were safe and secure by his side. though, you could easily fend for yourself.

“relax, sweetheart,” he’d whisper in your ear, out of earshot of everyone else. his breath was hot against your skin, pulling you back to reality. “i’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

after that mission, you found it hard to view hongjoong with the person’s you had made up for him in your mind.

it’s cliche. you live with someone for two years, and you start to learn things about them. even if you didn’t share a bedroom or bed together.

you knew his favorite food, the way he’d stay up all night working on files while you’d be picking away at books from his library. you knew he stocked the library for you, he’d always has yunho on side missions to find books you had on your list to be read.

you hated how much you cared for him after so long. all because of that damn mission.

the walls of the mansion were covered with miscellaneous paintings, the dark oak complimenting the colors on the paint on the canvases. each stroke holding a story that the artist was trying to convey.

you sat across the stretched dining table from your husband. a glass of chardonnay in front of you on the table, and a novel in her lap.

tensions in the mansion had been high for a while now. it was to be expected since you were married to one of the most feared men in the country, and you, nonchalant, quiet, and reserved.

you scared most of the men working for hongjoong. wooyoung, mingi, and san probably fearing you the most. more than their boss. one look from you could shut them up in a heartbeat.

you curated that facade to navigate life when hongjoong wasn’t around.

god you were frightening.

secondly, hongjoong had been cheating on you for some time now and you didn’t care. after all, you had no say in this marriage. you’ve navigated life after being married for two years and going on missions by his side.

you were living the life you sworn off years ago, you wanted to live a life of normalcy and peace. you deserved that.

and now it was second nature. the fighting, the threats, the killing, the violence, and the ruthlessness that came with being married to kim hongjoong.

the others, bewildered by the fact that you even let him get away with sleeping with other women. often coming to you asking why you didn’t care, how you just brushed it off. to which you’d reply with, “we sleep in different rooms across the house. i could care less who he brings home”

and it usually got them to shut up.

but, it bother you. somewhere deep down, you wished he wouldn’t do it. but you figured he did it because he doesn’t love you.

hongjoong blatantly cheats in your presence. you personality, the quietness, the way you wouldn’t bat an eye when the woman he had in bed the previous night would waltz through the kitchen fumbling for her belongings. all while you sat at the table, sipping your morning beverage of choice.

he wanted to break through your icy exterior. no, he needed to.

hongjoong fails, though, since you always choose to ignore him.

"why aren’t you mad?" he questions, frowning.

looking up from the printed words on the paper, you find him sat in the leather chair in front of you.

your face doesn’t falter, you keep a calm and composed expression. finally speaking, “why would i be mad?” your tone is flat, not giving any indication as to your mood.

hongjoong leaned back in his chair, studying you like he always does. his blond locks mussed, eyes half-lidded as he watched you flip through the pages of your novel.

the light coming through the window illuminated your side profile, his gaze darkened, his slender fingers tapping against his arm in irritation. your nonchalant attitude was beginning to make him agitated.

"because any self-respecting wife would be furious right now." he replied, eyes narrowing.

you say nothing at first, fixating your eyes back to the book nestled in your lap. your free hand reaches for the crystal glass to raise it to your lips.

you know hongjoong is fuming, absolutely raging but you don’t falter. “wife is a strong word considering we don’t even share a room” you begin, returning the glass to its original spot.

“let alone love each other.”

over the past year, you’ve learned how to get under his skin by being the way you were. you didn’t care much about how you affected him, you were simply just coexisting.

hongjoong didn’t know the nights that you’d cry yourself to sleep, mourning the life you used to have.

hongjoong's lip curled upward in a bitter smile, eyes flashing with annoyance. he pushed himself off the chair and walked over to where you were sitting, his footsteps heavy against the floorboards of the manor.

“a wife is a wife. regardless if we share a bed or not.”

he leaned against the polished oak table, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze locked onto you as he stared at you for a few moments.

"who says i don’t love you?" he asked, a hint of mockery in his tone.

you still refuse to meet his gaze. you could even list the times you actually looked him in the eyes on one hand.

you hear him let out a laugh, a scoff, whatever, and he shuffled a few steps away.

you look up, finally ripping your eyes away from the pages, you close the book and move it to the table.

you let out a breath of air, sounding more like a scoff. “are you serious right now?”

you lean back against the chair, watching him. how he stands there watching you, his hand crossed over his frame.

“i am.” he bites.

hongjoong was seething at the fact that you've gotten used to this, he had expected anger, jealousy, but he was met with.. nothing.

you begin to chew on the insides of your gums, trying to find the words. “i don’t care what sleaze you bring home, hongjoong. i really don’t” you finally spit.

hongjoongs expression hardened upon hearing your words. he didn't like that you didn't care, didn't like that you didn't react like every other woman would. it was infuriating, yet fascinating at the same time.

he slammed a hand flat against the table, causing the glassware on it to rattle. his jaw was set in a tight line, teeth clenched in irritation.

you flinch, clenching your jaw. you inhale sharply trying to ground yourself.

hongjoong continues, “you’re my goddamn wife. you’re supposed to care!” he snapped, his voice rising.

"you’re supposed to be jealous, angry, sad. not act like you don't give a damn."

you shake your head, looking away from him again. you purse your lips as his words ring in your head. “what do you want me to say?”

hongjoong leans in, his hands gripping the edge of the oak table with so much force that his buckles are turning white.

"why don't you care? don’t you have any self-respect? don’t you have any damn feelings for me? I'm your husband!"

his words spill out of him like an overflowing river all while he’s staring at you intently.

“hongjoong-“ you try to interject, closing your eyes and holding out your hand. but, hongjoong is quick to shut it down. “damnit, y/n, look at me!”

“i know you are!” you finally break, the palm of your hand slamming on the table. the nonchalant facade slowly slipping away.

“i’m reminded every fucking day!” you hold up hand, showing the gold band on your ring finger.

“of course i have feelings for you, hongjoong! i’ve been in love with you for damn near two years now!” she spits.

hongjoong's eyes widened in surprise as you yelled back at him. he was not expecting such a reaction, not from you, not ever. his grip on the table loosened as you continued to speak, your words sinking in.

“you... what?” he sputtered, his expression morphing from anger to shock.

his mind tried to process your words, struggling to wrap his head around the fact that you had been in love with him this entire time. be had cheated, he had disrespected you, and yet... you still felt something for him. it was mind-boggling and almost unreal.

you run you hands over your face taking in a deep breath to calm yourself but it doesn’t work. “i was robbed of everything. my life, my decisions, the way i live. all of it.” you can feel the burning sensation in your chest, crawling up to your throat and turning into a lump.

you had never cried in front him before, and you didn’t want to now.

“i don’t even have a wedding..” you sigh, feeling tears well in her eyes. “i don’t even have a proper ring.”

and then you mentioned not getting a ring. it was such a simple thing, but it felt like a knife stabbing through his heart. the realization that he had neglected you, that he had treated you as if you were nothing, hit him like a ton of bricks.

he had been so focused on himself, on his own needs, that he had completely disregarded your feelings. and now, he was faced with the consequences of his actions. “y/n” his voice is hoarse

you stop him, shaking your head. you can feel the embarrassment running you fingers through your hair and looks down at the table.

“i can’t do this..” you mutter under your breath, followed by a sniffle as tears fall from your eyes. “just forget i said anything.”

hongjoongs hand shoots out instinctively, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as you attempt to leave. he tugs you back, forcing you to stay where you are.

you try to push away, try ripping your wrist from his grasp but he’s much stronger than you.

his expression is a mix of shock and disbelief, his eyes glued to your tear-streaked face.

"how can i forget it? you’ve been in love with me this entire time?"

his grip on your wrist tightens, almost as if he's afraid you'll slip away if he lets go. his eyes dart across yous face, studying you like he always does.

"why didn't you say anything?“ he asks, his tone almost desperate. "you should have told me.”

you stifle a cry, looking up at him again. clutching to the book with one hand with every fiber in your being.

“stop.” you try to cut him off but it doesn’t work.

hongjoong continues, “you shouldn't have let me keep on with the cheating, on the treating you like crap... you should have said—"

he cuts himself off, his voice catching in his throat.

you chew on your bottom lip while he continues. shaking your head, you felt like she was at her breaking point.

when he finished speaking, you looked into his eyes for the first time. your bottom lip quivers but you quickly composed yourself.

“we didn’t even say vows, hongjoong.” you begin, balling your free hand into a fist.

as far as i was concerned, this marriage was written on a piece of paper by our fathers.” she frowned. “i don’t know what else you want me to say.”

hongjoongs heart clenches, the weight of your words hitting him like a ton of bricks. you were right. you didn't have a proper wedding, you didn't even get a ring. it was all a sham, a means to an end. a way to secure a partnership, nothing more.

“y/n..”

and yet, somehow, he had hoped that there was something there. he had longed for some semblance of a normal marriage, one where he could come home to you and hold you in his arms at night. “please..” he asks.

the mansion is quiet, you walk down the dimly lit halls to your bedroom. with a turn of the doorknob you’re met with the welcoming smell of your bedroom.

it was barely lit up, a few warm toned lamps by your bedside were the only thing on. you flipped the light switch and kick off your shoes.

you just returned from a two day mission with seonghwa, your feet ached, body bruised, your head was reeling with a leaving pain behind your temples.

trudging over to your bed you didn’t acknowledge the neatly wrapped box on your pillow at first. too preoccupied with cleaning up so you could get into bed.

you took off your earrings, tossing them into a jewelry plate before finally looking down at your gray bed sheets and that’s when you spotted it.

there’s a letter next to it, you unfold it to see just a few simple words.

“let’s start over”

then, you pick up the small box and open it to reveal and gold wedding ring. your breath got caught in your throat, staring at the piece of jewelry.

it was dainty, yet extravagant. obviously hongjoong must’ve spent a pretty penny on it. you carefully slip it out of its box and onto your finger, replacing the band you once had.

maybe hongjoong wasn’t so bad after all.

[akutasoda]

vying your attention

synopsis - they've never gone this long without a trace of you in their day, is it so wrong for them to want your attention?

including - jing yuan, jiaoqiu, mydei

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, maybe ooc, wc - 1.7k

a/n: argh i shouldn't of taken this long off writing ;; had to turn to writing for some favourites to ease back in... also newish format maybe.. what do we think?

jing yuan ★↷

all it took was a small glance around his office for the general to decide he was too lazy to do anything else for the day.

it took him an extra few seconds to decide that it would be the prime time to find you but jing yuan was quick to reluctantly backtrack on that idea. while he deeply longed to do so, like usual, he knew today was rather busy for you so he respected your other commitments.

although, he would come to regret that the longer the day drew on - not that he would admit that openly with words.

however there was only so much that jing yuan could do to control himself from disturbing you, mainly seeing as it was such a common occurrence for the both of you that it felt too weird for him not to. fortunately for you, he was considerate enough to wait long enough to where he was sure you weren't as busy anymore.

which meant in the meantime he would shrug off most duties and take what he deemed a well deserved nap.

jing yuan would then come to wake up way too eager than usual, the simple prospect of being able to finally see you after all this time was enough to motivate him to shake off his drowsiness as quickly as he ever had. it didn't take him long to find you either, and as soon as he did you were well aware of his presence.

he was subtle with it at first.

you noticed him lurking around where you went, an occasional glance on your end would end up with your eyes meeting before you'd look back to what you were doing. you knew he was waiting for the very second you finished up to swoop in and take your attention and time for the whatever was left of the day.

his subtle hints to you that told you he was waiting for your attention soon morphed into blatant displays. so much so to the point that jing yuan took the initiative and dragged you away from whatever was keeping you occupied.

at your complaints, jing yuan would assure you that he'd get it all cleared up for you at some point before rambling on about how much he missed you and how you needed to make up the time he went without you.

all you could do was sigh in defeat - although if you were being one hundred percent honest you were glad he dragged you away especially as now you could spend your time with your lover.

jiaoqiu★↷

it had become a rather “bad habit” - depending on who it came from - from jiaoqiu to be beside you at all times, or as often as he could as naturally there were occurrences where that would be impossible. most of the time, the times you two could be together would be at home or on mundane trips out and around the yaoqing.

and despite how pleasantly often those times occurred, the times in between were arguably the worst, even more so when they were well extended beyond jiaoqiu's liking.

he understood that you could both be busy but sometimes that was against his best wishes - today was one such time.

it started the moment you both began your day, he knew he had a pretty average day ahead and judging by your lack of presence, he knew you would have a very busy one. it already felt odd to jiaoqiu that you weren't around in the morning, he didn't quite know how long that would last but he didn't dare dwell on it too much.

the day already seemed to drag on in his mind. every minute felt like an eternity. he began finding himself doing every single meaningless task and such to keep him occupied. and when he ran out of things to do, he found himself seeking moze's company to fill some time and getting him to accompany him to some basic daily tasks he started building.

every so often, jiaoqiu would leave you a voice message just to grow slightly impatient when he would receive no response - a slight downturned flick of his ear would be a clear sign that he was becoming irked even if he tried to play it off.

moze was convinced that at some point jiaoqiu was counting down minutes and seconds, mainly judging by the fact that he kept asking what time it was within too close of a time span.

even when jiaoqiu returned home, he kept himself close to the front entrance just so he was as close as he could be when you eventually returned. so as soon as jiaoqiu heard the front door close and recognised the sound of your footsteps, he knew this was his chance to get his repayment from you for making him wait all day.

he began finding his way to you but was quickly met by you finding him first since your need to see him rivalled his to see you as soon as possible. the very moment you were in range, you brought him into your embrace- something he very quickly reciprocated.

even as you began to let go, you noticed the ever present subtle feeling of jiaoqiu's tail being wrapped around your waist remaining. it had crept round during the hug and it appeared it wasn't letting go anytime soon, much to the owners happiness. not that you minded either.

jiaoqiu was yearning for some of your attention all day and now that he had the chance to receive it, he certainly wasn't passing up the opportunity.

mydei ★↷

he was never really one to actively seek out somebody for small, needless acts - although that wasn't to say it wasn't an entirely impossible occurrence.

and rather admittedly, it happened too often nowadays for mydei's likeness. especially now that you had become so integrated into his daily life, a permanent constant that left him feeling like he was missing something detrimental in his life if he so happened to not see you on a day.

so he'd always make the minimal effort it took to see you, or vice versa, whichever one came to see the other first.

however, today you hadn't reached out to him once nor had you even asked if you could see him. mydei chalked it up to you being occupied and left it, it was only the first half of the day after all, you might become freed up later. so he sent a small message to you in hopes of you seeing it eventually and responding to let him know when you were.

the day seemed to draw on despite who he talked to or what he did to fill the time - mydei became too subconscious for his liking about checking for a message from you.

he sent another message and got on with his day yet again.

while he wouldn't exactly call himself impatient or even pressing, he definitely felt that way when he noticed the day drawing to a close and he'd sent a few more messages than he felt necessary to you in hopes of any response from you. even though he reasoned that he you were extremely busy and that was understandable, a part of him was hoping for a small indicator that you were doing well.

it couldn't even be classed as vying for a fragment of your attention in your busy day, well at least he wouldn't, but at some point, when the day finally turned to night, mydei decided to go see you in person.

he managed to learn from a few others where your last seen whereabouts were, which was a small relief for him to know that his suspicions about you being bust were right - and the small idea of something horrid happening to you was obsolete. but mydei certainly wouldn't rest until he saw you himself.

you were completely exhausted to say the least. the day had taken quite the toll on you, draining you of practically all your energy. it was only when you collapsed into the sanctity of your accommodation that it dawned on you to check for messages - namely as you realised you hadn't spoken to mydei at all, which is normally a staple of your day.

being greeted with quite the few messages from him was not so much a surprise but more of a slight guilt inducing moment. one that was made worse by the fact that before you had a proper chance to read and respond, the commotion of someone knocking caught your attention.

however that quickly morphed into a welcome surprise when you found out it was mydei himself knocking. immediately upon seeing you, he seemed to visibly perk up but that may be insisted upon by someone that it was your imagination. you barely had the chance to greet him before you practically felt yourself being picked up.

mydei mumbled something that you caught barely, along the lines of both being tired, you not being around him at all today and needing some time with you.

and all of a sudden you were both caught in a cuddle. mydei held you close in his arms and you staggered for a second before reciprocating. the tiredness combined with being held in his arms led to you drifting off before you knew it and the last thing you remember thinking was something along the lines of mydei being like a cat…