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cutehoons02 · 3 months ago

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My lollipop boy

*pairing: pervy bunny hybrid Sunghoon x popular girl

*trope: grumpy x sunshine

*synopsis: You and Sunghoon were not given the label of "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" so with him things were between a fork of toothpicks and cold live but passion and games in private. But what would happen when a rabbit hybrid gets its furrow and animal heat? For Sunghoon you were his cure but also his weakness with the arrival of heat was afraid to show his true animal nature and wanted at all costs to get away from you but would you be able to get away from him?

My lollipop girl <- I recommend that you read Part 1.

*tags: A lot of tension, Hoon is a rabbit hybrid and will have his own heat groove, dirty talk, degradation, jealousy, masturbation (m.f) unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl)node, Hoon is cynical but then will become sensitive, misunderstanding, smut, sulk, statement? happy ending, pet names (princess, slut) (good boy,hoon,hoonie,bunny) +18

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(English is not my native language)

You walked into the economics classroom with your usual confidence, the short skirt brushing against your thighs, the sheer stockings, and the cardigan a little too tight, revealing your curves. The orange lollipop twirled between your lips, but it wasn’t the same. Someone kept stealing your beloved strawberry and cream lollipops, and you had a strong suspicion about who the culprit might be.

Your eyes immediately found Sunghoon, relaxed as always, sitting in the third row by the window. Your Sunghoon? Since that night of "studying" in your room, filled with economics exercises and much more physical practice, things had changed between you two. But there had been no declaration, no labels. You wanted him, clear and simple. But him? You weren’t sure.

You approached his desk with your usual bold smile and sat next to him, tilting your head. "No comment today? Did you suddenly become shy?"

Sunghoon sighed, not even turning to look at you. "Maybe I’m just trying to ignore you."

You spun the lollipop stick between your fingers. "Oh, so now you’re ignoring me? Strange, I thought you liked having my attention... or rather, having me all over you."

His ears twitched slightly, a sign you hit the right spot. Finally, he looked at you, his dark eyes filled with annoyance... or maybe something else. "You’re unbearable."

"And you aren't good at lying," you retorted, bringing the lollipop to your lips with exasperating slowness. "Too bad I know exactly how much you like me."

Sunghoon stiffened for a moment, then leaned slightly toward you, lowering his voice into a sharp whisper. "You know what I like? Silence. You should try being quiet for once."

Your smile widened. "Oh, but didn’t you like my mouth when it screamed your name or moaned while you sucked me or tied me to you?"

"Tsk." Sunghoon quickly turned away, his eyes fixed on the board as the professor walked in, momentarily interrupting your game. But you had already won: the slight redness in his ears told you everything you needed to know. Sunghoon was obsessed with you, and you with him.

After another hour of explanations and exercises, you stuffed your notes into your backpack with a sigh, cracking your tired fingers. The orange lollipop hung lazily between your lips as you took one last look at your page. Just one wrong exercise. Not bad. You stole a glance at Sunghoon, but he was still bent over his notebook, his pencil gliding over the paper with almost irritating precision. The sunset light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow on his dark hair. He was so immersed in his world, focused on writing formulas with his usual impassive expression. He hadn’t even noticed you were ready to leave. You shook your head with an amused smile. How much of a nerd can he be? You turned towards the door, ready to leave, when the professor's voice echoed in the room.

The professor entered the classroom, tapping the register a couple of times on the desk to get everyone's attention.

-In a few days, there will be the midterm exam,- he announced, scanning the students with his gaze. -I expect a lot from you. Over the weekend, I’ll send you some practice exams to complete, even in pairs, to help you prepare.-

As he spoke, you slightly turned your head, the orange lollipop sliding between your lips as you watched Sunghoon. He gripped the pencil between his fingers with an almost too-tight hold, but his face seemed impassive and focused as he listened to the professor.

And that was exactly what bothered you. The way he seemed perfectly capable of paying attention to others, of interacting normally with anyone except you. With you, though, in public, he appeared distant, almost cold, and he loved teasing you or driving you crazy with just a look. The thought that maybe he was embarrassed by you drove you mad. Or that he was afraid of showing any kind of feelings towards you. Yet, you knew it wasn’t like that when you were alone.

When his claws planted themselves on your skin with desire, when his tongue explored every inch of your body with greed when he sucked your skin to claim you from the smell that the other hybrids felt when he reversed his seed into your poor pussy.

So what was holding him back?

You drove away the thought and we focused on the exercises. When you finished, you had only one in four wrong. Not bad, maybe Sunghoon was not so bad as a tutor...

The professor walked past your desk and bent down slightly to check on your work. -Here,- he pointed to the spot where you had made a mistake, with a barely hinted smile.

Sunghoon turned slightly to listen, but his eyes didn’t stay fixed on the exercise.

He saw, he saw the professor’s gaze that never left your body, he saw how his eyes lingered on the curve of your chest, accentuated by the tight cardigan. How they slid down your legs, covered only by the thin, sheer stockings. How they stopped on your face, lingering on your lips, slightly swollen and tinted with the sugary gloss from your ever-present lollipop.

And his mind inevitably went back to a few nights ago.

When that face was pressed between his thighs, your lips were swollen with pleasure as you moaned his name, while he sucked and pumped his long fingers into you. When your tongue, which had been playing with the lollipop, traced sinful lines along his stomach. A strange unease twisted in his stomach.

-If you’d like, you can stop by my office this weekend,- the professor said, with a smile that was just a little too polite. -Many students do it to improve. I could help you prepare for the exam.-

You looked up, surprised by the offer, while Sunghoon felt his rabbit-like ears twitch slightly from irritation. His instincts screamed. That bastard was staring at you too much.

Without paying him much mind, you smiled politely. “Oh, thank you, professor, I’ll think about it.” -Do,- he replied.

-I might have some useful advice for you.-

Sunghoon gripped his pencil harder, feeling a slight crack in the wood as it splintered. He could tell with just one look when someone wanted something, and that man didn’t just want to teach you economics; he wanted to touch you, possess you—and that didn’t sit well with Sunghoon, because the only man who could touch you, kiss you, possess you, mark you, and tie you up was him.

You, of course, noticed his reaction and didn’t miss the chance to tease him. You leaned slightly toward him, your warm breath brushing against his skin.

“Oh? Is someone jealous?” you whispered with a mischievous smile. Sunghoon shot you a cold glance.

“Stop talking nonsense.” His voice was low, tense. But you knew. You knew very well that behind that impassive facade, his hybrid instincts were writhing. It was taunting him. Telling him someone else was trying to invade his territory, and you loved it.

-Y/n.- You stopped abruptly, turning just slightly. The professor was still seated at his desk, an overly smug smile on his lips. He motioned for you to come closer. With a shrug, you walked over slowly, swaying your hips just a bit. The professor’s gaze followed every movement, lingering a little too much on your legs. Sunghoon, who was about to turn the page, felt a shiver run down his spine. His bunny ears perked up imperceptibly. He didn’t need to hear the conversation to understand what was happening. -So, have you thought about my proposal?- the professor asked in a tone that was a bit too relaxed. -Private lessons would be really helpful for you. You could come to my office this weekend. You know, many students do it to improve.-

Sunghoon felt something tighten inside him. Is that bastard really trying? The pencil he was holding cracked under the pressure of his fingers. His hybrid instincts hit him like a hot blade in the stomach. He already knew what you were about to do. You were about to accept, just to make him jealous. Just to see how far you could push it before he exploded. And damn, it always worked. He shot up from his seat, determined to leave the classroom and ignore the scene, trying to suppress the animalistic part of him telling him to wipe that smug smile off the professor’s face. But then he felt a warm touch on his skin. Your hand. You grabbed his arm, your fingers tightening around his wrist in a firm grip. "Thanks, professor," you said with an almost innocent smile. "But I already have an excellent tutor as a study partner." The professor raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharpening. -Oh, really? Who’s that?- You didn’t look away, and Sunghoon felt your warmth spread along his arm as you gently pulled him toward you. "Him." The silence that fell in the classroom was almost deafening. Sunghoon froze, his mouth slightly agape in shock. Wait… what? His eyes turned to you, searching for any hint of teasing, but all he found was your usual cheeky grin. The professor stared at you for a few seconds, then turned his gaze to Sunghoon, as if sizing him up. -Him, huh?- Sunghoon clenched his jaw, feeling a sudden wave of pride mixed with frustration. Damn, this girl… She didn’t let anyone walk all over her. She didn’t need him to push the professor away, but she still dragged him into it. And not only that. She’d said he was the one who helped her understand the exercises. She’d said it was thanks to him that she was improving, and that feeling inside him—that strange, warm, irritating feeling—hit him all of a sudden.

Y/n was his? His tail shifted restlessly behind him, while his cheeks heated up slightly. No. Wait. They weren’t together. They’d never put a label on what was between them, yet the thought of someone else getting their hands on you made his jaw tighten. You were looking at him with a triumphant grin as if you’d just won a silent battle. Sunghoon sighed, looking away. "Do whatever you want," he muttered, but you didn’t miss the way the blush on his cheeks had become more noticeable. And you loved it.

As you left the classroom, Sunghoon walked ahead of you with his usual quick, determined pace. His long legs allowed him to put distance between you effortlessly, as if he were trying to escape from something… or someone. You bit your lip, watching his tail. It wouldn’t stop wagging. A nervous tic that betrayed his usual impassive demeanor. That little detail made you smile.

You quickened your pace, trying to catch up. "Hoon." No response. "Hoonie," you sing-songed in a sweeter tone, amused by the way his shoulders tensed. You were driving him crazy, and you knew it. "Are you jealous, by any chance?" you asked with feigned innocence, tilting your head.

He suddenly stopped, and you didn’t have time to slow down, bumping lightly into his chest. The scent of his skin, mixed with something more wild and instinctual, immediately enveloped you. The tension in his body was palpable. His bunny ears trembled, his jaw clenched.

"I’m losing my mind." His voice was low, rough. You looked up at him, batting your lashes with an innocent expression. "Because of the exam?" Sunghoon let out a quiet huff, as if he were struggling with himself.

Then, without a word, he grabbed your wrist. His touch was burning, his palm wrapping around your skin in a firm grip.

"Hoon, where are you taking me?" you giggled, but he kept walking, ignoring your playful tone.

He dragged you through the empty hallways, the last rays of sunset filtering through the windows. Every step he took was heavy, every breath deeper, more controlled. But he wouldn’t hold back for long.

He turned a corner and pushed open a door, pulling you into an empty classroom. Only a few streaks of sunlight illuminated the space, casting golden shadows on the floor. Sunghoon shut the door behind him with a sharp thud.

"Sit down."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So bossy today…" He didn’t reply. Running a hand through his hair, he messed it up, looking like a caged predator. His ears twitched nervously, and his tail flicked the air in slow, agitated swipes.

You smiled. Leaning your elbows on the table, you watched him with amusement, letting the lollipop slide lazily between your lips. "If you wanted to be alone with me, you could’ve just asked, you know?"

Sunghoon froze. His dark eyes locked onto yours, nostrils flaring slightly. Three steps, and he was right in front of you. His large hands cupped your face with a firmness that made you hold your breath. He forced you to look at him. His pupils were blown wide, his breathing heavier.

"I can’t take it anymore." His voice was deeper, more animalistic. His nails barely grazed your skin, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. He was fighting his instincts, battling something restless inside him.

"First, it was just the guys at school, and that already drove me insane. But now, forty-year-olds too?" His tail flicked again.

"You think it’s funny to provoke me like this?" he hissed, his lips almost brushing yours as he spoke. You smiled, running your thumbs over his knuckles. "It’s cute seeing you jealous, you know?"

Sunghoon let out a low growl, his ears flattening back. His whole body vibrated with tension. He was giving you control, even though he didn’t want to and you knew it.

"Hoon," you whispered softly, your fingers gliding down to his wrist, squeezing just slightly. "Do you need a reminder of who I belong to?"

He held his breath. His eyes darkened with something deeper, something raw. He swallowed hard, his body instinctively moving even closer to yours. Then, he nodded, his tail wagged faster. You smirked. "Good answer."

The tension in the air was dense, charged with something primordial. Sunghoon was stiff in your hands, his breathing quickened as his fingers traced paths under your cardigan, touching you with a delicacy that contrasted with his firm grip on your thighs. But you weren't going to let him take control. You lured him to you, resting his lips on his, kissing him with the confidence of those who knew exactly what he wanted. Sunghoon grunted between the kiss, his tongue explored yours with growing hunger. "Open your legs," he whispered against your lips, his voice hoarse and authoritarian.

A shudder ran through your back, but not for the command—for the idea of completely turning the situation around. And yet, you indulged him. You opened up for him, giving him the place between your legs as you continued to kiss each other, savoring each other with slowness and despair at the same time. His lips moved along your jaw, sucking and licking fervently, then went down to your neck. The warmth of his mouth made you moan softly, and his grip on your thighs tightened. He was too sure of himself it was time to put him back in his place. You smiled between a heavy breath and, with a firm gesture, you took off his sweatshirt, then his shirt.

His chest twitched when your fingers slid over his candid skin, the contrast with the dark shadows of the sunset made him almost ethereal. You kissed him slowly, walking along the line of his sternum with your tongue. "You are beautiful, Hoonie," you whispered against his skin, feeling his abdomen quivering under your lips. Sunghoon clenched his teeth, but could not hold back a gasp when your hands stroked his hips. "Oh? Did I just hear you stutter?" you looked up, the mischievous smile that you knew him all too well painted on your lips. Redness spread to the cheeks, the ears bent back. "Shut up." You laughed softly, running a finger along his chest, tracing lazy circles around his nipples. "Come on, Hoonie, you're so cute when you lose control."

Your voice was a sweet poison, you looked at him with an amused air as he desperately tried to maintain some dignity. Another kiss, this time lower. Sunghoon stiffened when your lips came close to his navel, his tail convulsively moved behind him. "P-princess, we are in public." You looked up, tilting your head with an all too innocent air. "It was you who brought me into this room, not me," you reminded him, the sweet but poisonous tone Sunghoon swallowed heavily.

Your fingers slid down the waistband of his pants, playing with the zipper with maddening slowness. "What is it, Hoon? Are you nervous?" He bit his lip, avoiding your gaze, a little disaster. The cynical and distant nerd, the one who always looked at you with superiority, with dismissive sarcasm, was now nothing more than a guy trembling under your touch. A loser you could have done anything to, Sunghoon's breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling with force as you looked down on him with a smug smile. He seemed completely at the mercy of you, your hands, your lips, your poisonously sweet voice.

"Oh, Hoonie," you sighed, fingers playing with the zipper of his jeans. "You're so nervous now, and yet a little while ago you were trying to command me. What happened to all that security, huh?" He swallowed, the blush on his cheeks noticeable even in the shadow of the sunset. His eyes drooped for a moment, avoiding your gaze as if he were ashamed, but his body betrayed him: his tail flinched non-stop, his ears bent back, and the heat he emanated was stronger and stronger. You laughed quietly.

"You're a mess, Sunghoon," you whispered, your mouth barely touching his navel. "All cold and cynical in public… but look how you shrink when you're with me." Sunghoon bit his lip, holding back a little groan when your fingernails grazed the sensitive skin of his side. "Y-n /princess …" his voice trembled slightly, and this made you smile even more. "What is it? Does the truth bother you?" you tilted your head, your hands still on his belt. "Should I remind you who's in charge right now between the two of us?"

Sunghoon blinked, trying to recover, but his instincts were betraying him, a shiver ran through him, his breathing became heavier, and something inside him was changing. It was a creeping warmth, something primal that moved inside his chest, in his belly, and made him feel unstable, and vulnerable. He had always been so rational, so controlled, but now, with you looking at him with those amused eyes, with your voice humiliating him without the slightest effort… He was completely at the mercy of you and the worst was that he liked it.

"Look how you're shaking," you whispered, your fingers grazed the skin of his abdomen, tracing slow circles on his warm skin. "You're not really used to being under, huh, Sunghoon?" He clenched his fists to his sides, and his bunny ears drooped even more it was humiliating how much his body reacted to you so easily and you weren't letting him get away. Your mouth slowly rose up along his chest, depositing barely hinted kisses, letting your warm breath tickle his skin. "But you know what I like best? "you whispered against his ear, gently nibbling at his lobe. " That for all your tough-guy attitude, in the end you're just a desperate bunny who can't wait to be touched, to be commanded, and to simply be a bunny who pretends to be cold and a nice guy but who has repressed sexual instincts."

Sunghoon shuddered violently. His tail snapped behind him, his breath snapped and that heat inside him … was getting unbearable. And he had only one, the only solution. You, The tension in the room was palpable. The sunset cast long shadows on the floor, the golden light refracted on Sunghoon's bare skin, accentuating his every line, and every muscle contraction as he desperately tried to maintain a modicum of control over himself. But it was not easy. Not with you in front of him, with that mischievous smirk on his lips, with your light but devastating touch that made him tremble. You could feel its length contracted under the fabric of the boxer His tail moved erratically behind him, an obvious sign of the turmoil within himself.

You bit your lip, an amused look as you ran your fingers down the taut abdomen, then further down, barely touching the fabric that concealed her obvious excitement. "Not even in your worst dirty dreams will you think of tying me in a shabby university room, huh, bunny?"

you provoked him, letting the tip of your finger trace the shape of his erection over the stretched tissue. Sunghoon clenched his jaw, his gaze grew darker. "Stop it,Y/n," he growled, his tone authoritarian, but the effect was almost undone by the way his hips quivered at your touch. You laughed quietly, amused by her desperate struggle against herself. "Oh, so now you're being tough?" you tilted your head, slowly licking your lips while, without warning, lowering his boxer.

Its length bounced against his sculpted abdomen, and for a moment Sunghoon exhaled sharply, his hands clasping to the sides of the table behind him. His eyes shone with a mixture of defiance and despair. "You're a nightmare, you know?" he mumbled, trying to recover, but his voice was more hoarse, more hungry. You smiled, slowly sliding a finger along her length, observing with satisfaction the way her abs contracted under your touch. "A nightmare? And yet you are the one moaning for me already," you whispered in his ear, pressing your hand on his hot, pulsating skin. Sunghoon grunted, closing his eyes for a second. "You're over-dressed," he growled, his voice charged with frustration. "I want to hear you." The authoritarian tone made you smile even more. "Oh? And since when do you have the right to order something from me?" you asked him, but still, with maddening slowness, you took off your cardigan and then your blouse, leaving only your lace bralette on. Sunghoon held his breath. His eyes glided greedily over you, the blush on his cheeks became more intense as his tail trembled. "You are beautiful," he confessed, almost unwillingly, as if those words had escaped him. You laughed quietly. "I know." Then, with an almost cruel sweetness, you bent down and brushed the tip of its length with a light, almost innocent kiss. Sunghoon gasped, his hands clenched to the edges of the table as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. "Princess— " his voice broke when your hand squeezed slightly around him, running your thumb over the already damp tip of pearly liquid. "What was that sound, Hoonie?" you provoked him, the tone sweet and poisonous. "It just sounded like a groan…" He clenched his teeth, but his body betrayed him. His breath had become heavier, his gaze was lost between desire and humiliation. "I want to fill you," he confessed in a desperate whisper, his voice loaded with need, his animal instincts out of control. "Want—" Slap. Not strong, just a small blow on his inner thigh, enough to make him snap open his eyes and look at you with surprise. "Oh, my bunny," you sighed with a satisfied smile. "I already told you, didn't I? You'll fill me up and knot me only in my room … or yours."

Sunghoon nodded mechanically … until he processed the last part of the sentence. "No," he growled, the blush on his cheeks noticeable. You raised an eyebrow. "No?" "Not in my room." You bit your lip to hold back a laugh. "Why? Too ashamed to take me there? Or are you afraid I'll find out your dirty little secrets, Hoonie? Or are you afraid that I will invade your hybrid space?" Sunghoon grunted, looking at you with hatred and desire at the same time.

You are his damnation, you are his darkest need and, despite everything, you are the only one who could ever dominate him like this. You smiled with your usual mischievous look, your fingers playing with him almost absent-mindedly as if everything you were doing was a recent pastime. But Sunghoon could not pretend that for him it was the same. His breathing was heavy, his jaw clenched as he desperately tried to maintain control.

"Do you want to come, Hoonie?" you whispered, the tone sweet and poisonous. He nodded without even thinking, his bunny ears bent back, the blush on his cheeks now evident. You laughed slowly, biting your lip to hold back the satisfaction. "Then answer my economics questions." Sunghoon blinked, for a moment he looked confused. "C-what?" "I told you." Your grip just got tighter on his pinkish, veiny cock, making him gasp and leaving a choked moan on his lips. "If you want some relief, prove to me that you're really that nerd pretending to be in class." He glanced at you full of frustration, but his tail kept shaking behind him. "You are-you are a nightmare." "I know," you laughed, then, without giving him time to retort, you looked at him with a defiant smile. "So … let's get started. What is the formula for calculating the total profit?" Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek, trying to concentrate. "R - total revenues minus total costs." A light kiss on his hot skin was his reward, but soon after you tightened your grip, making him quiver, and pumped his cock into your hands to feel him gritting his teeth from pleasure but also from annoyance. "good boy, bunny," he whispered against his abdomen.

"Don't call me that," he growled, but his tone lacked mordant, too distracted by the feeling of your hands on him. "Mmh, we'll see," you laughed. "Second question: what is the break-even point?" Sunghoon clung to the edge of the table, his eyes trying to stay shiny. "It's - it's the point where total revenues and total costs equalize, so there's no profit or loss." Another kiss on his cock, this time slower, as you run your tongue over his skin and twirled your tongue in his cock and then sucked it lightly, leaving a warm, moist trail that made him arch his back. "baby… " he growled, his hand clasped around your side as if he wanted to stop you, but at the same time did not dare. You looked at him with bright eyes. "Third question, Hooni" He swallowed, wheezing. "I'm going to" "Not yet." You threw a dangerous look at him, then, unhurriedly, unfastened your bralette, letting the cloth fall to the ground without any hesitation. Sunghoon froze, his gaze glued to you, as your swollen breasts ribbed and then laughed softly, in that low, slightly mocking tone he used when trying to regain control.

"Are you trying to distract me?" You tilted your head with a sweet smile. "Distract you? But if you're the one moaning like a desperate bunny in heat for my touch." The blush on his cheeks became even more intense, but instead of fighting back, he did something you didn't expect. His hands grabbed you by the hips more firmly and, before you could react, you found yourself lying on the bench with him on top of you and his cock ribbing slightly. "Keep your breasts slightly tight I want to fuck you those beautiful tits," said Sunghoon sighing softly, you looked at him with your eyes drooping and cupped your breasts and held him slightly open and Hoon's eyes were ajar as he slid his huge cock between your breasts, his breath trembling as the heat increased. "Who is the desperate one now?" he whispered with a defiant grin, the same one that drove you crazy in class when he pretended to be unattainable. You looked up, slowly licking your lips. "Oh, so you want to lead now, Hoonie?"

He grunted quietly, his control now thin as a silk thread. In the classroom, you could hear only your moans and choked breaths and the slimy noise of his cock rubbing around your breasts, you had never seen this version of Hoon and after a couple of thrusts as he touched your breasts with one hand and the other leaned to slide his cock between your breasts with a broken breath, he let go completely, his hands trembled as he clutched you, his body crossed with chills as pleasure overwhelmed him. A slimy substance of sperm began to trickle around your breasts until it reached your navel and you groaned at the sight you were full of filaments of cum; for a moment, the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing, the frantic beating of his heart against your chest. But then, as he tried to recover, something inside him became agitated. It was a deep warmth, something visceral and it hadn't passed yet. He stiffened slightly, his ears moved restlessly, and his tail waved uncontrollably. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"All right, Hoonie? You still seem agitated." He swallowed, the redness did not leave his face. "…I don't know," he admitted softly. For the first time, there was a veil of uncertainty in his expression. As if something was changing inside him. And the fear of what would come next began to make its way into his mind.

Sunghoon dressed in haste, his body still tense, his hands moving in a nervous rush as he buttoned up the jeans. His breathing was heavy, his face still reddened, yet his eyes had veiled with something darker. He approached you in silence, took you by the wrists with a delicacy that you did not expect, and with quick and precise gestures began to clothe you. The cardigan on the shoulders, the blouse buttons closed with almost obsessive care, the fingers that barely lingered on your skin as if he wanted to memorize every detail before…leaving.

It was weird, after everything that had happened between you, after the way he had let himself go—which he never did now seemed to want to erase all traces of that moment. And you couldn't understand it. When he turned to leave, you grabbed him by the wrist. The abnormal heat of his skin made you wince.

"Sunghoon." He froze but did not turn around. "Are you okay?" you asked him, trying to cross his gaze. His breath grew deeper for a moment. Then, without too much emphasis, he broke free from your grip with a slow but firm movement. "I'm fine," he replied flatly. You watched him carefully. "No, you are not." He finally turned around, his rabbit ears slightly lowered, a sign that something was wrong inside him. But his face… his face was deadpan. There was no trace of the vulnerability you had seen just before, of the guy you had in your hands and that you had brought to the limit. Just the usual Sunghoon: cynical, distant. "You wouldn't understand," he said in a low voice. You stiffen. "And why not?" "Because you are only a human." He said it with a coldness that struck you like a slap. You stared at him, your arms lowering at your sides. "So what?" "So you shouldn't be here," he continued, his voice unhesitatingly. "What happened… was a mistake." His words hit you right in the stomach, making you short of breath for a second.

A mistake? Your throat tightened. You looked him straight in the eye, looking for any sign that he was lying. Any little hesitation, any crack in his ice mask. But there was nothing, only detachment, only coldness. "Sunghoon," you muttered, trying to figure out what the hell was going through his mind. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair in an almost frustrated gesture. "A hybrid like me needs a true companion. Not a human who likes to tease him." His every word was a blade that sank into your chest. You felt like an idiot, you felt used, and the anger began to boil inside you. "Bullshit," you hissed, stepping towards him. Sunghoon did not move. "Jungwon and Jake stayed with human girls! I don't think they're getting all this fucking paranoid!" "They're not rabbits," he replied, his tone frosty. This time you were the one blocking, Sunghoon looked down for a second, then raised him with an expression that gave you chills. He was calm, too calm. "You don't understand, Y/n, and you will never understand." Your jaw clenched if he wanted to play that game, then you would too. You straightened, crossing your arms.

"So what do you want to do, Sunghoon? Escape?" He didn't answer right away. He looked at you for a few seconds, then tilted his head slightly. "Exactly." And with that word, without another hesitation, he turned and left the room. Leaving you there, with your heart beating painfully in your chest and the feeling that you have been pushed out of her world with a brutality you did not expect.

The chair next to yours was empty.

Again.

It had been over a week since Sunghoon had decided to cut you out of his life, and his silence was eating away at you more than you ever wanted to admit. He didn’t spare you a glance, not a nod, not even the slightest hesitation in his movements when he walked past you as if you were just another stranger.

And it was driving you insane. But not just with anger—also with sadness.

You had never cried over a boy. Never. And yet, there was a weight in your chest that wouldn’t go away, a lump in your throat that grew every time you saw him ignoring you with that impassive expression of his.

And you were tired of feeling this way.

That’s why, when you went to the convenience store to buy lollipops and found all your favorite flavors—strawberries and cream, no exceptions—gone, a sharp pang of irritation shot through you.

Because you knew exactly who had been buying them up until now, who had taken the trouble to make them disappear just to see you annoyed, to watch you bite your lip in frustration while you sucked on the orange or watermelon ones with a pout.

Sunghoon.

Bastard.

If he wanted to ignore you, if he wanted to shut you out, then why did he keep creeping into your mind? Why did he keep reminding you that beneath that cold, cynical mask of his, he was still the boy who loved to tease you, the one who had made you his so many times, the one who had let himself go in your hands with a vulnerability he had never shown anyone else?

You hated him.

You hated him because, despite everything, your heart still beat faster whenever you saw him.

The economics exam had gone great.

A beautiful 88 stood next to your name on the results board, and even though you would have preferred a higher score, you knew you had Sunghoon to thank. He was an exceptional tutor—you knew that well—and his method had worked perfectly.

Then, your gaze drifted upward to the highest grade in the class.

100. And next to that number, as always, was his name. Sunghoon Park.

No surprise there—he had always been perfect in his subjects, always meticulous, always one step ahead of everyone.

And yet, when you turned to look for him in the crowd, you didn’t find him. Strange. Sunghoon was always the first to check the exam results, the first to line up at the board, the first to gauge the class’s performance.

But that morning, his spot remained empty, and for the first time, an unsettling feeling settled in your stomach.

Sunghoon hadn’t shown up for two whole weeks—not that you were counting the days. Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. But it was impossible not to notice. His desk was always empty, his presence had become an overwhelming absence, and you… you were worried.

Not that you would ever admit it, not after everything he had said to you. If he wanted to shut you out of his life, then you would do the same.

Or at least, you would try.

You were about to leave the classroom when the professor gestured for you to come closer.

-Congratulations on the test, Y/N. Excellent work.-

You smiled, though the weight of your thoughts made it hard to feel genuinely happy. “Thank you, professor.”

Then, you saw him pull out another sheet—the exam results of Sunghoon.

-Have you seen him lately?- the professor asked, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t tell the truth, couldn’t admit that Sunghoon had been avoiding you like the plague and that you had no idea what had happened to him.

So, you lied.

“He’s sick,” you said as naturally as possible. “A bad flu… high fever, nausea, stomach issues…” You were making up the worst excuses, but it didn’t matter.

The professor nodded. -I see. Could you give him his test when you see him?-

Your eyes widened for a moment. Did it really have to be you? You hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Of course…”

You picked up the paper with a frown. His name was written at the top in that perfect handwriting of his—the same handwriting that had helped you understand difficult concepts, the one you knew so well. And it was while staring at his test that you noticed an orange-haired figure nearby.

Sunoo. You walked over and greeted him in your usual cheerful tone, even though he looked slightly uneasy.

“Hey, Sunoo! Do you know where Sunghoon is?”

His expression turned cautious. ‘He’s… sick.’

The exact same response you had given the professor, but something in his tone was off.

You tilted your head. “Sick how? Is it just the flu?”

Sunoo hesitated, biting his lip before letting out a sigh. ‘You should take it to him yourself.’

Your eyes widened. “What? Why?”

‘Because it’s better if you see him in person.’

His words only confused you further. What was going on with Sunghoon? And why was Sunoo being so evasive?

But by now, you knew only one thing—you had to go see him.

You were lying on your bed, a strawberries-and-cream lollipop between your lips, your phone open to your chat with Sunghoon. You had typed and deleted your message at least ten times.

You had his economics test, and despite the way he had shut you out of his life, you couldn’t stop worrying. You bit your lip, unsure whether to send something straightforward or teasing. In the end, with an exasperated sigh, you typed:

“Hey, Park Sunghoon (🐇👿), I have your economics test. Want me to bring it over?”

You hit send before you could change your mind. Your phone vibrated almost immediately.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“NO.”

You froze, staring at the screen in disbelief. No? Just no?

That test had a perfect score—just as you’d expected from him—and he didn’t even care to get it back? His stubbornness and cold demeanor drove you insane, as if nothing had happened the last time you saw each other.

Clutching the paper in your hand, you marched out of your room and headed straight for his door. You didn’t need his permission.

Once there, you lowered your gaze and slid the test under the small gap beneath the door, along with a little handwritten note:

“Congrats on the 100, genius. Too busy playing sick to brag about it? Or has the little bunny decided to become a hermit? What a waste of beauty and brains. Oh, by the way, be careful… if you keep hiding in there, you might end up even paler than you already are. Go get some air, idiot.”

You straightened up, satisfied, ready to turn and head back to your room—when your phone vibrated again.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“Go away. You stink.”

You stopped in your tracks. You stink?

That damn rabbit! Your eyes widened, and you felt the blood in your veins boil. You clenched your phone, gritting your teeth.

If he wanted to play dirty, fine.

Leaning closer to the door, you lowered your voice into a venomous whisper, sure he would hear you.

“Funny. Last time you sniffed me, you seemed pretty into my scent…”

You slipped the note under the door and crossed your arms, waiting for his reaction.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzed.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“Maybe I need a new nose.”

You huffed, biting your lip to hold back a smile. Even if he was being cold and distant, at least he was responding. That meant you weren’t completely irrelevant to him.

Deciding to push further, you let a bit of your concern slip through—though, of course, disguised as teasing.

“Park Sunghoon, are you actually sick, or are you just being an emo bunny?”

Another message came almost instantly.

Sunghoon (🐇👿):

“No.”

No? You narrowed your eyes. That was the second time he had answered like that, and this time, it didn’t seem like he was just trying to push you away.

Without thinking, you called his number. The dial tone rang once, twice—then he picked up.

Your heart skipped a beat.

It had been two weeks since you’d last heard his voice.

“What do you want, Y/N?” His voice was hoarse, slightly strained.

“What do I want? What do I want? You’ve been missing for two weeks, and the only thing you can say to me is ‘what do you want’?” You huffed, irritated—but deep down, relief washed over you at the sound of him actually speaking to you.

From the other end of the line, you heard the rustling of blankets and a sigh.

“Tsk. You’re always so annoying.” You smiled slightly.

“And you’re always an idiot.” A moment of silence. Then, a sudden shift, a barely audible inhale.

“Y/N, leave.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are to give me orders?”

“I’m telling you to get away from my door.”

“And why would I do that?”

Another pause. Then his voice dropped, almost as if speaking was difficult for him.

“Because I can smell you too much.”

You froze. Then, a sly smile crept onto your lips.

“Oh?” Sunghoon let out a sharp exhale on the other end of the line, already sensing where this was going.

“Don’t start.”

“Too late.” You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle. “Sunghoon… are you in heat?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

You could practically see him on the other side of the phone—jaw clenched, ears twitching slightly with embarrassment and irritation.

“None of your business.”

You burst out laughing, delighted.

“Oh my god, I hit the mark! So it’s true!”

“Y/N—”

“You know, I did some research… and your behavior matches exactly with that of a bunny in heat.”

There was a dull thud, like he had just slammed his head against his pillow or mattress in frustration.

“Stop reading those ridiculous blogs and go study economics or something useful instead of wasting your time on stupid theories about rabbits.”

“Oh, so they’re stupid theories? Then why are you still avoiding leaving your room?”

The prolonged silence on the other end was all the confirmation you needed.

Sunghoon was in trouble. And no matter how much he wanted to hide it, you had figured it out.

The line crackled slightly before he spoke again.

“What the hell do you want now?” His voice was flat, cold—but beneath that forced composure, there was something else. Something sharp, on the verge of breaking.

You bit your lip, the mischievous smile already playing on your mouth.

“You know, today I read an interesting blog about hybrids in heat.”

From the other side of the door, inside his room, you heard the faintest shift in his breathing.

“Tsk. You shouldn’t stick your nose into things like that.”

“Oh, but it was so fascinating,” you continued, letting your voice drop just slightly, slipping into a whisper almost too intimate. “They talked about how hybrids in heat become… obsessed. How their bodies burn up, how the knot—”

“Y/N.” His tone was a warning, but the fact that he hadn’t hung up said everything.

“How they want to fill their partner over and over, even if they can’t actually breed her.” You leaned against his door, imagining him on the other side, probably running a hand through his hair, struggling to maintain control. “How it’s not just physical desire but mental. The need to mark, to claim, even when they know it’s impossible.”

The silence that followed was thick, electric. Then, a slow, prolonged sigh.

“You’re playing with something you can’t control.” Your pulse quickened, your lips curving upward.

“And what if I don’t want to control it?”

He let out a low chuckle, a dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, baby…” he took a moment before continuing, his voice now hoarse, impatient. “If you were in here with me, I wouldn’t let you go until your body recognized who it belongs to.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling the heat spread through your chest, your stomach, and lower.

“You’re all talk, Sunghoon,” you teased, your voice dropping to a whisper. From the other side of the door, you heard a dull thud, as if he’d hit something.

“Open this door and we’ll see who’s just talking.” The phone call ended with a sharp click.

And you stood there, your heart pounding too fast, your breath unsteady.

You knew that if you opened that door, he would keep every single promise.

You knocked, your fist light but insistent against the wood.

“Sunghoon, open up.” Your voice was low, almost a whisper, but you knew his hybrid ears would pick up every tiny vibration.

A deep breath from the other side, then his response—hoarse, tense.

“If you come in here, your scent will fill my entire territory. And I won’t be able to control myself.”

You bit your lip, your chest tightening at his confession.

“I miss you,” you admitted. “I want you. All of you. Your human side… and your hybrid side.”

A tense silence, charged. Then a low chuckle.

“You’re truly reckless.” But the soft click of the lock made you hold your breath.

The door creaked open slightly—just enough for you to catch a glimpse of Sunghoon. And the sight stole the air from your lungs.

He was leaning against the doorframe, his breathing heavy. His damp hair fell messily over his forehead, a few strands sticking to his flushed skin. His bare chest rose and fell unevenly, his biceps flexing as he gripped the door, his toned abs glistening slightly with sweat. His rabbit ears were pinned back, his face flushed, and behind him, his tail twitched restlessly, agitated, unsettled.

A shiver ran down your spine. Staring at you with dark eyes, Sunghoon let out a slow, resigned sigh.

“Fuck…”

Then, in an instant, he shoved you against the wall.

The door slammed shut with a thud, his heated body pressing into yours. His breath was everywhere—on your skin, in your neck, inside your thoughts. He inhaled slowly, his nose brushing along the curve of your shoulder, then trailing up the line of your jaw, stopping at the hollow of your neck.

A shiver crawled up your spine as you felt his lips ghost over your skin—light, reverent.

And then you felt it a tremor in his breath, the faintest hitch.

A tear—warm, silent—slipped down his cheek as he buried his face into your skin, as if he wanted to melt into you.

“I missed you,” he murmured between kisses, his lips tracing a burning path along your skin. “You have no idea how much.”

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you even closer against him.

“You’ve been bad, you know that?” His voice dropped an octave, sending another shiver through you. “Leaving me like that… with your scent everywhere, but without you.”

With every word, every touch, your breath grew more uneven. Then a gasp escaped you when his lips latched onto your skin with more force, leaving a mark.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Oh, I missed that sound so much.” You let out a soft giggle, your hands reaching up to his soft ears, tugging them gently to make him lift his gaze to you.

“You’re a mess,” you whispered, your thumbs stroking the base of his ears, Sunghoon scoffed, but his dark eyes burned with desire.

“And whose fault is that, huh?” His grip tightened, his body shifting slightly against yours. A shudder ran through you as you felt his heat rubbing against you, the thin fabric between you both an increasingly frustrating obstacle. A whimper slipped past your lips, and Sunghoon wasted no time leaning into your ear to whisper:

“You’re warm.”

“You’re burning,” you answered, your voice trembling.

A sharp breath left his lips, his eyes half-lidded as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“You know what a hybrid in heat does, don’t you?” His hand slid along your back, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’ve spent weeks losing my mind, with only one thought in my head.”

His gaze was feverish, torn between wanting to tease you and the sheer desire burning through him.

“I thought about you every single day,” he confessed, his voice low, strained. “About how I wanted to hold you again. About how I wanted to kiss you in front of everyone so no one would ever dare to look at you like they could have you.”

He bit down gently on your earlobe, his voice a husky vibration against your skin.

“About how much I want to fill you up.” A heavy breath. “Stuff you full of me, mark you, make you understand that your place is right here—with me.”

His eyes were dark, feverish, his breathing heavy as he studied you, as if trying to figure out if you were joking.

But you weren’t. “You can do anything to me, Sunghoon,” you whispered, your heart hammering in your chest. “You can fill me. You can love me. You can use me… you can worship me.”

For a moment—just one—his mask seemed to crack. But then Sunghoon let out a low, sharp laugh, tilting his head slightly.

“You’re insane.” His tone was cold, disdainful. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Instead of answering, you reached out and tugged on his ears, forcing him to lower his head toward you.

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand anything.” And before he could respond, you kissed him. The kiss was immediately chaotic, desperate, filled with pent-up tension. Your tongues tangled without grace, too hungry to care about making it perfect. Sunghoon groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your hips too tightly, as if he were trying to restrain himself. But then he lifted you effortlessly, making your head spin, and turned toward the bed.

“You’re invading my territory, you know that?” His tone was still amused, but with a subtle hint of warning beneath it.

You bit your lip, your fingertips brushing the nape of his neck.

“Strange…” you whispered. “Because you’ve been invading mine for weeks.”

His nostrils flared slightly, his pupils dilated just a bit, and behind him, his tail twitched nonstop.

He dropped you onto the mattress in one fluid motion, his hands immediately slipping to the waistband of your jeans. Then, without breaking eye contact, he pulled them down in a slow, exasperating motion.

A low whistle escaped his lips as the fabric pooled on the floor.

“Oh, would you look at that,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips as his fingers grazed the elastic of your white panties. “Such a good girl.”

His tone was venomously sweet, the cynicism in his gaze burning hot enough to make your blood boil.

“Innocent little princess…” He shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“Do you know what happens to good girls who play with fire?” He lowered his face just slightly, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

“I ruin them.” You laughed—right until you felt his mouth press small kisses and love bites along your thighs.

You slipped a finger under his chin, making him look up at you with curiosity.

“I want a lollipop,” you said in an innocent tone. Sunghoon looked at you, slightly confused, but then he stood up, walked to his desk, and pulled out a strawberry-and-cream lollipop from the drawer. He brought it to your lips, trying to place it in your mouth. But you shook your head.

“I want you to suck it and after that you will eat my pussy with the taste of lollipop” he laughed and said no with his head because you were seriously crazy but he adored you. Sunghoon let the lollipop slip out of his mouth with a soft sound, his tongue barely passing over his lips as if to savor its last remaining sugar. Then he looked down at you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You're a little bit of a temptation, aren't you?"

his voice was low, almost a satisfied growl. "First you provoke me, then you play the good girl who asks for treats..." He tilted his head, the cynical grin spreading over his lips. "I wonder how many more tantrums you'll have once I really start touching you."

You bit your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. "So what are you waiting for?" Sunghoon laughed softly, shaking his head.

“You're impatient." Then, without warning, he lowered the lollipop on your skin, drawing a sugary line that started from the lower abdomen until it touched your most sensitive center. You stiffened under that unusual contact, a shiver running down your back.

Sunghoon watched you, his amused smile as his warm breath grazed the spot where the sweet had melted on your skin. "And now..." His voice was just a whisper before his lips lowered on you, savoring you as if you were the finest confectionery. A groan involuntarily eluded you, and you felt his smile against your skin. "Hm," he muttered in a contented tone, the sound almost an animalistic purr. "You know about sugar, but much better." His tail moved relentlessly behind him, a sign of his feverish state, of his desire to get completely lost in you.

"And now, baby ..." His gaze was a promise as she bent over you again. "Let's see how long you can hold out before you beg me."

His lips went down the inside of your thighs, leaving open, moist kisses, followed by small bites that made you jerk. Every time you moaned, Sunghoon laughed softly against your skin, the sound low and satisfied.

"You like to be teased, don't you?" his voice was a sharp whisper. "Does it excite you so much that this is enough for you to get completely wet?"

You bit your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of an answer. But then his fingers slipped against you, finding you already all too ready, and Sunghoon growled softly, the sound instinctive, animalistic. "You're tremendous," he hissed, his tone cynical.

"You always make yourself look so cheeky, and yet look how you are reduced to me." You gave him a defiant look, a heavy breath.

“So what? Aren't you the one who goes crazy about my smell?" Sunghoon froze for a moment, then laughed, his tail moving even more frantically.

"What a naughty mouth..." And without warning, he pushed a finger inside you, the slow but inexorable gesture. A groan eluded you before you could stop it, and Sunghoon bit his lip, his eyes dark and feverish.

"What was this, uh?"He looked at you with false innocence, then pushed deeper, his wrist moving with a torturing rhythm. "Weren't you the one who could respond in tone?" You tried to fight back, but the second finger was added to the first, and the sound that came out of your lips was more a muffled cry. His fingers inside you pumped inside your poor cunt now at the mercy of the desire not to be filled by his fingers but by his cock and Sunghoon smiled, satisfied.

"Oh, that's what I like the most." He continued to move, the pace increasing, while his gaze was glued to your face, at every slightest reaction.

"I want to hear you, baby," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "I want everyone to know who is driving you crazy." You felt on a knife edge, the pleasure accumulating too quickly. "Sunghoon..." you gasped, your hands clasping to the sheets. He smiled against your skin, mischievous.

"Tell me you're mine."

"I am," you groaned. "Only yours." His tail moved even faster, a satisfied growl escaped from his lips.

"Yes, so..." Then, with a slow gesture, he took the lollipop you had forgotten and slid it on you, on your clitoris and you screamed for the sticky sensation you felt at your most sensitive point, the sweet sugar mixing with the warmth of your skin, your body trembled, the unbearable pleasure.

"I want you to dirty my whole bed, baby," he muttered, his eyes burning. "I want to see you completely lose control for me." And with his lips on you, his fingers deep and the lollipop cold against your hot skin, you felt yourself overcoming every limit, your body straining, lost completely in him. Sunghoon stood there, his breath heavy as he looked at you. Then he ran his tongue over his lips, savoring you as you came between his long fingers and his tongue and ate you as if you were his favorite meal, and he giggled quietly.

"Definitely much better than sugar." he told you as he sucked your excitement dripping from your sensitive center.

Sunghoon stood for a moment motionless, his chest lifting and lowering heavily as he looked at you, his ears stretched backwards, his tail moving erratically. He seemed on the verge of completely losing control. And then he saw you trembling under him, his thighs still open, his breath broken, his body marked by his kisses and his fingers, and something inside him broke.

"Fuck you," he growled quietly, the tone imbued with frustration and longing. In one movement, he took off the boxer, His excitement throbbed heavily among you, thicker, bigger than anything human, with its obvious animal furrow, turgid veins running through it, and a slight pearly patina on the tip. He was made to reproduce, to knot you, to fill you up to mark you as his. You felt yourself burning under his feverish gaze. Sunghoon grabbed you by the wrists and lifted you slightly, placing a pillow under you with an instinctive gesture.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, though the tension in his tone said how close he was to the edge. Then his hands grabbed the edge of your sweatshirt and, without any hesitation, slid it away, followed by your bra. His eyes glided greedy over you, his fingers touching your breasts, clutching them with a mixture of adoration and need. His breathing was heavy when his thumbs began to fiddle with sensitive skin, the touch as sweet as it was frustrating.

"I wish I could have prepared you more," he hissed through his teeth, his voice kneading with desire. "But I can't take it anymore. You're driving me crazy."

You threw a defiant look at him, a mischievous smile on his lips. "Oh? And I thought you had self-control..." Sunghoon stared at you for a second, his cynical grin widening. Then one of his hands came down on your thigh, tightly squeezing it. "I had," he admitted, tilting his head, his ears moving slightly.

"But then you came here to provoke me with that smell... with that body that just asks to be taken."

You felt yourself vibrating under the weight of his words. Sunghoon looked down, his tail moving restlessly as he grazed his length against you, making you feel every inch of his not-quite-human form. His groove pulsed, the instinct to knot you and tie you to him as nature dictated was now out of control.

He bit his lip, his breath hoarse. "I can't wait to see you take everything, to see you swollen because of me..." His body trembles. He was struggling with himself, trying not to get completely carried away by his impulses. And then you whispered to him those words that broke his every brake.

"You can do whatever you want with me, Sunghoon."

A deep growl climbed from his throat and without any more warning, he pushed his hips forward, reclaiming you with one movement, a cry escaped from your lips. His body was different, thicker, thicker, the groove of his heat throbbing as he perfectly suited you.

"S-Sunghoon..." you stuttered, your hands looking for a foothold on his strained biceps. He looked down at you, his crooked, perverse smile as he felt your body huddle around him. "Too much?"he repeated with a grin. "And yet, look how you're taking me ... little liar."

His voice was hoarse, imbued with an animalistic delight as he began to move. Each thrust was heavier, slower, deeper. His instinct led him to claim you, to make you feel every inch of his not entirely human form. Your legs involuntarily tightened around his hips, your body instinctively responding to his. He noticed it and laughed quietly, with that cynical and hungry tone that drove you crazy.

"See? Your body knows who it belongs to." You reeled, the pleasure clouding your mind as he sank deeper and deeper. "Sunghoon ... I—I..."

He came up to your ear, his breath boiling over your skin.

“What? Tell me." Your body trembled under him, and when you finally found the voice, it was only to whisper: "I want you to fill me..."

Sunghoon froze for a moment, his body stretched like a violin string. Then something in his eyes changed. "Fucking silly," he hissed, the tone more animalistic than before. "Don't tell me certain things, or I'll lose my mind completely."

But it was already too late. His groove swelled even more, and a heat wave spread inside you. Your breath snapped as you felt his body respond to the primal need to brand you. Sunghoon did not stop. Every push was more intense, every whispered word more possessive, his cock pushed deeper and deeper inside you and you felt your poor cunt suck it deeper and deeper, ormia your body responded only to the instincts of animalistic Sunghoon.

"I want you all ..." he gasped against your neck. "I want to see you swollen because of me... see my mark on you, I want to fertilize you with my sperm and with my rabbit knot in heat."

His nails pressed lightly against your skin as his body betrayed him, the heat consuming him, the instinct taking over. "You are mine," he growled, and there was no longer any doubt: he would not let you go.

His hands were everywhere—on your thighs, on your hips, on your arms, as if he wanted to brand you with his touch. And as it sank even deeper, you felt its body change inside you, its groove throbbing and swelling more and more, filling you to the brim. Your mind was clouded with pleasure, your body trembling under the weight of its heat and you felt like the last time a heat overwhelm you but even more.

"Hoon..." you gasped, fingers clinging to his strong shoulders. He looked down at you, his smile crooked and hungry, his eyes dark with desire. "Tell me, baby," he muttered in that cynical tone that drove you crazy. "I-Your knot... it's so big..." you stammered, your voice broken by groans.

He laughed softly, the sound deep and perverse. "Oh? Haven't you read in your stupid science blogs that when a rabbit hybrid is in heat, the knot gets even bigger?" Your shook your head weakly, your body squeezing it even more unwittingly.

Sunghoon groaned softly, his jaw clenched as he felt how much I was holding him back. "Damn... You're acting like a fucking fool in heat." His words made you shudder, your breath broken as he pushed even deeper, his knot swelling more and more inside you.

"Not even the rabbits when I'm in heat can hold me so well," he hissed with a crooked smile. "But you ... you're crushing me, baby." You squirmed under him, the pleasure too intense, every fiber of your body screaming for a release. "S-Sunghoon ... I ... want..."

He watched you with a predatory gaze, his irregular breathing as he teased your clit with expert fingers. "You want to come?"he asked with a cynical grin. You reeled, your body shaking under him. “Let him out then," he whispered against your ear. "I want to see you make a good mess in this fuck that you say so much to adore."

The heat poured into you in uncontrollable waves as your body gave way completely, your nails sinking into his skin as a scream of pleasure broke on your lips. Sunghoon did not stop, continuing to move inside you with deep, slow strokes, his knot still pulsing, sealing you together. His teeth grazed your neck as he whispered, his voice low and animalistic, Sunghoon gasped above you, his body boiling against yours as every fiber of his existence screamed to claim you. There was no trace of rationality left in his eyes—only the pure instinct of a hybrid in heat, thirsting for you.

His hands held you still, his muscles tense as he sank his cock deeper and deeper, his broken breath mixed with a choked growl.

“You're a fool, " he hissed at your ear, his voice hoarse and full of desire. “Do you realize what you did? You walked in here while I'm in heat, and now I can't stop.”

His strokes became deeper and deeper, more animalistic, his body clutching you as if he wanted to merge with you. He looked down at your belly, his eyes feverish as she felt his knot swell more and more inside you.

"Look how good you are taking me..." he whispered with a perverse smile. “Not even a slut could hold me so tight.” A shiver ran through your back, his dirty words making you lose control.

“I will tie you to me, " he continued, his teeth brushing your neck, his voice lower and hungry. “I'll fill you up to make you feel mine in every knot I can, I'll fumble you so all the other hybrids will know who you belong to.”

The heat within you grew, your body completely wrapped in its domain. "Say it," he insisted, his tongue caressing your moist skin. "Tell me that you want to be tied to me, that you want to be filled.” “L-I want it..." you gasped, your breath broken as your body trembled beneath him.

Sunghoon laughed softly, that deep, perverse sound as he looked at you with dark eyes of pure desire. “What a naive little prey... "

he whispered, as his knot swelled completely inside you, sealing you together. His warmth invaded you, his irregular breathing as he kept moving inside you with deep, slow strokes, savoring every second.

You felt completely bound to him, your body shaking as Sunghoon sank still, his hands clutching you with almost desperate need. His chest moved quickly against yours, his breath warm as he licked your neck with a possessive gesture. "Mine," he whispered with a satisfied grin. “And now you can no longer escape me.”

You felt his semen fill you completely and you screamed with pleasure as he kept pushing his cum-soaked cock inside you as if to make you realize that he never wanted to part with you.

The silence in the room was broken only by your ragged breaths, your bodies still stuck together with sweat, the warmth of his knot still present inside you.

When Sunghoon slowly pulled away, a moan escaped both of you, a mix of pleasure and sensitivity as your bond unraveled. His gaze dropped to your stomach, where his still-swollen knot left a visible mark of his claim. His dark eyes lingered on you for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what he had done—how recklessly he had taken you.

He lay down beside you, his breathing still uneven, and without a word, he pulled you close. His arm wrapped around your waist, and his head nestled against your neck. You could feel his damp hair tickling your skin, his chest rising and falling with increasingly heavy breaths.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, wrapped in a silence thick with emotion, your hands intertwined without the need for words.

Then, a small kiss. Another. His lips brushed against your neck in slow, almost trembling gestures. And that’s when you heard it… a silent sob.

His breath hitched.

You stiffened for a second, surprised, then turned to look at him

“Hoon?” you whispered gently, but he didn’t move. His face was still buried against your body, his arm tightening around you as if he was afraid to let go.

Your hand moved slowly across his back, stroking him reassuringly. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

He shook his head, his breath breaking with another muffled sob. Then, in a barely audible voice, he murmured:

“I’m a monster.” Your heart clenched.

“Sunghoon…” You tried to lift his face, but he resisted, shaking his head against your neck.

“Look at me,” you insisted, your voice firm yet soft.

“No.”

A faint smile formed on your lips despite everything. “Don’t act like a child. I want to see that beautiful face.”

He stayed still for a moment before another quiet sob slipped from his lips. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled away just enough to lift his gaze.

And when his red, teary eyes met yours, you realized how fragile he was in that moment.

Sunghoon—the cold, cynical hybrid, the insatiable rabbit who had taken you so fiercely—was now just a boy, terrified of being hated.

And you? You had no intention of letting him go.

You gently caressed his cheek, your thumb brushing over his warm, slightly damp skin. Sunghoon closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to engrain that feeling into his memory. Then, without thinking, he took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to the inside of your palm.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I was a jerk… an animal with you.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, watching him with a small, knowing smile.

“Oh, absolutely,” you agreed, laughing softly as you began planting small kisses on the scattered beauty marks across his face. One on his cheek, one near his temple, one on his jawline.

Sunghoon sighed against your skin, his breath still uneven.

Then, almost unintentionally, he whispered:

“I love you.”

You froze for a moment, your lips still pressed against his skin.

The Sunghoon you knew was cynical, cold, calculating. He had always teased you, provoked you, even tormented you. You never thought you’d hear those words come from his mouth.

He tensed slightly in the silence that followed, clearing his throat. “Say something,” he murmured, more nervous than he wanted to admit.

You looked down at him, a tender smile curving your lips.

“I love you too.”

You felt him exhale softly, as if those words had lifted a crushing weight off his shoulders.

“Since when?” he asked, his deep, dark eyes locked onto yours.

You burst out laughing. “I don’t know… there’s no exact moment when you realize you love someone.”

Sunghoon lowered his gaze for a second, a small smile playing on his lips. “I do,” he admitted.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And when was that?”

He turned to look at you, his head slightly tilted against the pillow. “When I helped you with your homework. That’s when I started feeling something for you.”

You laughed, amused. “Are you serious? You fell in love with me while I was desperately begging you to explain economics to me?”

He scoffed, feigning offense. “Yes, because you were a total disaster,” he muttered, pulling you closer. “And I thought it was ridiculous how stubborn you were—how you refused to give up, no matter how hard it was.”

You looked at him fondly, your heart beating a little faster in your chest.

Sunghoon remained silent for a moment before shifting slightly, curling up against you.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked softly.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Will you be my boyfriend?” you countered playfully.

He shot you a glare. “Answer my question first.”

You chuckled, running your fingers through his soft hair before nodding. “Yes.”

Sunghoon smiled against your skin, and after a moment, in a whisper, he said it too:

“Yes.”

And in that moment, you knew nothing had ever felt more right.

Jakept Jungwonpt Jaypt

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jungwnies · 5 months ago

Text

F1 GRID | accidentally confessing their love

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (since its nearing the start of the 2025 season feel free to comment anyone you'd like me to add to my grid posts <3) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested or not) : your f1 driver friend confessing how they really feel for you!! <3

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff (suggestive if you squint during charles' part...) ୨ৎ : tws : slightly... suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 3372

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i just feel like this is so cute and wholesome idk something this i need this love

ʚ・max verstappen

the night had been loud.

a red bull team party, music blasting, people laughing, and max was absolutely wasted. you had never seen him like this before, and honestly, it was kind of hilarious. max, the four-time world champion, was currently leaning half his weight on you, grinning like an idiot while mumbling something under his breath.

"max, you need water," you said, struggling to keep him upright as he practically draped himself over you.

"neeeee," he slurred dramatically. "i need you."

you rolled your eyes. "yeah, you need me to call you a cab."

max groaned, tilting his head back. "no, you." his words came out jumbled, but there was something… weirdly sincere about them. his drunken blue eyes stared into yours as he said, "i love you."

you blinked. "what?"

"i love you," he repeated, much too casual for something that insane to say out loud.

you laughed, patting his shoulder. "oh, okay. and tomorrow morning, you’ll love a big headache, too."

max frowned, clearly frustrated that you weren’t taking him seriously. his grip on your arm tightened slightly. "no, no, i mean it. i love you."

"you’re drunk."

"yeah, but i still love you."

"go to sleep, max."

"i love you."

"uh-huh."

—

the next morning, max showed up at your door looking like death itself.

sunglasses on, hoodie up, hair a mess, and a red bull can in hand like it was some kind of magical cure. you let him in without a word, watching as he flopped onto your couch with a heavy groan.

"never letting checo mix my drinks again," he muttered.

you smirked. "you mean never letting yourself mix your drinks?"

max lifted a hand weakly. "details."

you sat next to him, poking his shoulder. "so, do you remember anything from last night?"

his face scrunched in thought. "uh… i remember dancing, i remember lando laughing at me, and i remember… uh…" his voice trailed off as his posture stiffened slightly.

you watched him carefully. "you remember what?"

max’s hand came up, rubbing the back of his neck. "i may have said something stupid."

you raised an eyebrow. "oh, you mean confessing your undying love for me? yeah, i’d say that qualifies as stupid."

he groaned, sinking lower into the couch. "shit."

you laughed. "so, do you want to take that back, or…?"

max sat up suddenly, pulling off his sunglasses so he could look you dead in the eyes.

"no," he said, completely serious.

your breath caught.

max shook his head. "i don’t want to take it back. i meant it."

you blinked, not expecting that. "max…"

"i love you," he repeated, but this time, there was no alcohol in his system, no slurred words, no hazy grin. just him, just max, staring at you like he had known this truth for a long time.

your stomach flipped.

"say something," he mumbled, clearly nervous.

you smiled, your heart pounding. "you really have the worst timing, you know that?"

max exhaled a small laugh. "tell me something i don’t know."

you rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything else, he grabbed your hand, holding it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"just tell me one thing," he said quietly. "do you love me back?"

you squeezed his hand. "i do."

max grinned, leaning his forehead against yours. "good."

ʚ・lewis hamilton

lewis was always grateful for you.

you had been there for everything, the highs, the lows, the chaotic last-minute travel plans, the quiet moments in between. being friends with lewis hamilton meant late-night phone calls when he couldn’t sleep, celebrating podiums like they were your own victories, and grounding him when the world became too much.

and lewis? he never took you for granted.

but it wasn’t until today that he realized why.

—

"you are an actual lifesaver," lewis said, flopping onto your couch with an exaggerated sigh.

you grinned, handing him a cup of tea before sitting down next to him. "all i did was fix your pr nightmare. you act like i just saved your championship season."

he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "no, because if i had to sit through one more meeting about my ‘social media strategy’ or listen to someone tell me how i should ‘connect with fans better,’ i was going to lose my mind. you handled that mess in, like, five minutes."

you smirked, sipping your own tea. "well, someone had to. you looked like you were about to crawl under the table and never come out."

lewis laughed, shaking his head. "not even joking, i considered it." he took a sip of tea, sighed happily, then looked over at you.

"i love you."

the words came out so easily, so naturally, that it didn’t even register at first.

you just smiled. "i know."

and for a moment, everything felt normal. because this was you and lewis. you had always been close. you had always been affectionate. saying "i love you" in moments like this wasn’t weird.

except this time, it was.

because suddenly, lewis stopped mid-sip, blinking like he had just realized what he said.

you felt it too.

the room got quieter, the air heavier. your heartbeat picked up, and when you looked at him, his expression had shifted…his usual effortless confidence replaced with something more uncertain.

"i mean, uh—" lewis started, clearing his throat. "you know, like… i love you in a friend way."

you raised an eyebrow. "do you?"

he opened his mouth, then closed it. "i… think so?"

you set your cup down, turning your body to face him fully. "because it sounded different this time."

lewis stared at you for a second, like he was replaying the last few moments in his head, analyzing them like a race strategy. then he exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

"yeah," he admitted, voice softer now. "it was different, wasn’t it?"

you swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were sitting.

"do you want to take it back?" you asked.

he met your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "no."

your stomach flipped.

lewis shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours. "you know i meant it, right?"

you nodded, barely breathing. "yeah."

he tilted his head, studying you like he was seeing you for the first time. "and?"

you bit your lip, your pulse racing. "and… i love you too."

lewis grinned, the kind of smile that could light up an entire room.

"that’s good," he said, voice warm, eyes soft. "because i really didn’t want to take it back."

ʚ・george russell

fighting with george russell was exhausting.

not because he yelled, he didn’t. not because he was mean, he wasn’t. but because george had this thing where he had to be logical, had to be rational, had to explain why he was right in a way that made you want to rip your hair out.

and right now? you were both standing in his kitchen, arguing over something so stupid that you weren’t even sure how it started.

"george, i swear to god, you are so stubborn!"

"me? i’m stubborn?" he gestured wildly. "you’re the one refusing to see reason!"

"you’re acting like you’ve never been wrong in your life!"

"because i’m not wrong about this!"

you groaned, throwing your hands up. "oh my god, you’re impossible!"

george scoffed, shaking his head. "you are impossible!"

the frustration was boiling over.

the tension in the room was thick.

and then, suddenly, george blurted out, "i love you, and you make me insane!"

you froze.

he froze.

the room went completely silent.

you blinked. "what?"

george exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "oh, for god's sake," he muttered, mostly to himself, before looking back at you. "i love you. and i don’t know why i decided right now was the perfect time to say it, but it’s true."

your heart was pounding. "you… love me?"

"yes," he huffed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "you drive me crazy, you argue with me about the dumbest things, and you never let me have the last word—"

"because i’m right most of the time," you interrupted automatically.

george shot you a look. "see? this is what i mean."

you opened your mouth to argue again but stopped. because, holy shit, george russell just confessed his love for you.

and maybe you were still annoyed, and maybe you still thought he was wrong about whatever the hell you were fighting about, but none of that mattered anymore.

because you loved him too.

you swallowed. "well… for the record, i love you too."

george let out a breath, his whole body relaxing. "thank god."

and then, before you could say anything else, he closed the space between you, cupped your face, and kissed you, like he had been waiting to do it forever.

the argument? forgotten. the love? loud and clear.

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos was always shamelessly flirty with you. the teasing, the winks, the ridiculous pick-up lines? flirting was practically his love language. and after years of friendship, you had gotten used to it.

mostly.

right now, he was watching you struggle with a jar of pasta sauce in his kitchen, leaning against the counter with that infuriating smirk of his.

"you need help, amor?"

you huffed, gripping the jar tighter. "i got it."

carlos snorted. "sure you do."

you shot him a glare before twisting the lid as hard as you could. nothing. the damn thing wouldn’t budge.

carlos reached for it. "come on, let me—"

you yanked it away. "no. i can do it."

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "you are very stubborn."

carlos chuckled but didn’t argue. instead, he folded his arms and waited, watching you wrestle with the jar for another few seconds. finally, with an annoyed groan, you shoved it into his hands.

"fine. do it."

carlos grinned like he had just won a world championship, taking the jar with an exaggerated flourish. "watch and learn."

with one quick motion, he popped the lid off effortlessly and held it up like a trophy. "easy."

you narrowed your eyes at him. "i loosened it."

"of course you did," he said, eyes twinkling. "and you’re so lucky i love you, or i would let you struggle with every jar forever."

silence. the air in the kitchen shifted.

you stared at him, your brain short-circuiting. "what?"

carlos blinked. "huh?"

you took a step forward. "what did you just say?"

he hesitated, his confident expression faltering for the first time. "i said… you're lucky i—" he stopped, suddenly realizing what he had let slip.

your heart was racing now. "carlos."

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "shit."

"you love me?" you asked, voice softer now.

carlos let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head. "i mean… yeah. kind of a lot, actually."

you just stood there, staring at him, completely thrown off by the way he was suddenly serious.

carlos sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "i was planning to say it differently. maybe over dinner, something romantic. not… after opening a damn jar."

a laugh bubbled up in your chest. "this is kind of perfect, though."

he raised an eyebrow. "you think so?"

you grinned, stepping closer. "yeah. because now, i get to say it back."

carlos's eyes flickered with something warm, something hopeful. "you do?"

you nodded. "yeah."

before you could say anything else, he pulled you in, his hands resting on your waist as he pressed his forehead against yours. "you are still very lucky, amor," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "yeah? and why’s that?"

carlos smirked before kissing you, slow and sweet.

"because now, i get to love you forever."

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles didn’t get mad.

not really. not in the way that others did. he wasn’t the type to yell, to throw things, to let his emotions get the best of him. he carried stress in his shoulders, in the tight clench of his jaw, in the way his fingers tapped anxiously against his thigh.

but right now? right now, he was livid. and it was because of you.

"can you stop being so damn reckless for one second?" charles snapped, pacing the length of your apartment like he was trying to burn off the anger simmering beneath his skin.

you huffed, crossing your arms. "i wasn’t being reckless."

"you could have been hurt!" his voice cracked slightly, and that’s when you realized this was more than just frustration.

you sighed. "charles, i—"

"do you even care what happens to you?" he interrupted, his voice rising in a way you rarely ever heard from him. his hands curled into fists at his sides, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

you furrowed your brows. "of course, i do! but i had it under control—"

"no, you didn’t!"

the words were sharp, cutting through the tense air between you. charles never yelled. he never raised his voice at you. but tonight, something was different.

you took a step closer. "why are you so upset?"

charles let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "are you serious?" he turned toward you fully now, eyes burning with something raw, something you didn’t quite understand yet.

and then, all at once, he snapped.

"i care about you, can't you see that i love you?!"

the words hung between you, heavy and unshakable.

your breath caught, your heart slamming against your ribs as charles stood there, his face flushed, his chest rising and falling like he had just run a race.

slowly, the realization of what he had just said seemed to settle in. his expression shifted, frustration fading into something more vulnerable, something exposed.

he swallowed hard. "merde," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "i—"

"you love me?" you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

charles exhaled, his entire body deflating. "yes." there was no hesitation, no backtracking. just the truth. "i do."

silence stretched between you, thick and charged, the weight of his confession pressing into the space like a live wire.

your lips parted, but no words came out. because what could you even say to that?

charles ran a hand over his face. "i know i shouldn't have said it like that. i know this isn't the right moment, but damn it, i can't just sit here and watch you act like nothing matters, like you don’t matter."

your throat tightened, and suddenly, you weren’t thinking about the argument anymore. you weren’t thinking about the reckless thing you had done, the stress that had led to this moment.

you were thinking about him.

the way his hands were still clenched at his sides, like he was holding himself back. the way his eyes darkened as they flickered down to your lips for just a second, just long enough for heat to pool in your stomach.

"say something," he murmured, his voice lower now, softer, but no less intense.

you swallowed hard. "i—i didn’t know you felt that way."

charles took a step closer, slow and deliberate, until there was barely any space left between you. "you do now."

your breath hitched. "and what happens now?"

his gaze dropped to your lips again, lingering this time. "that depends," he murmured, "are you going to let me show you how much i mean it?"

the air was thick, charged with something electric, something inevitable.

you barely had time to nod before his lips crashed against yours, urgent and desperate, like he had been holding this in for years.

and maybe, just maybe…he had.

ʚ・lando norris

being best friends with lando norris meant you were used to his nonsense.

you were used to his chaotic energy, his terrible dad jokes, his ability to trip over literally nothing, and the way he could never sit still for more than two minutes. you were used to the weird stares he gave you when he was deep in thought, and you were definitely used to the way he sometimes just blurted out whatever was on his mind with zero warning.

but this? this was new.

you were sitting across from him in his living room, scrolling through your phone while he aimlessly clicked through the tv, trying to find something to watch. it was quiet, comfortable, and perfectly normal.

until lando, completely unprompted, stared at you and blurted out, "i love you."

your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. "what?"

lando blinked, eyes wide, as if he had only just processed what had come out of his own mouth.

"oh. uh." he cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "i said… i love glue?"

you squinted. "lando."

he coughed, looking absolutely panicked now. "i meant… i love zoo. the zoo. love the zoo. animals are great."

you deadpanned. "lando."

"i love you." he sighed in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "okay, yeah, that’s what i said."

you stared at him, half amused, half trying to figure out if he was messing with you. "you just…randomly decided to say that?"

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "i didn’t mean to say it! i was just looking at you and thinking about it and then…boom. my brain short-circuited and now i want to throw myself into the ocean."

you bit your lip, watching the way he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, the tips of his ears turning red.

it was kind of adorable.

"so," you said, leaning back. "you love me?"

lando shot you a half-hearted glare. "yeah, obviously."

you smirked. "you love me."

he groaned again, throwing his head back against the couch. "are you seriously going to make me suffer right now?"

"yes," you said immediately, grinning. "because this is hilarious."

lando grumbled something under his breath, still refusing to look at you.

you scooted closer, nudging his leg with your foot. "hey."

he peeked at you through his fingers. "what?"

you smiled, softer this time. "i love you too."

his hand dropped from his face as his eyes flickered to yours. "wait. you do?"

you laughed. "obviously."

the relief that washed over him was instant. his whole body relaxed, and that familiar, cheeky grin of his came back full force.

"good," he said, reaching over to pull you into a dramatic hug. "because that would've been really awkward if you didn't."

you snorted. "lando, it was already awkward."

ʚ・oscar piastri

oscar was a quiet kind of chaotic.

sure, he wasn’t as loud as some of the other drivers, but he had his moments…usually when he was sleep-deprived, caught off guard, or in this case, accidentally confessing his feelings through text.

it happened late at night, when you were already in bed, casually texting him like you always did. the conversation was nothing special, just something about the race next weekend, a stupid meme he sent, and your usual back-and-forth teasing.

and then, out of nowhere, a new message popped up from oscar.

oscar: yeah okay but i love you though

your heart stopped.

you blinked at the screen, reading the message once, twice, three times, just to make sure your brain wasn’t playing tricks on you.

before you could even process it, the familiar typing… bubble appeared.

then disappeared.

then came back.

then disappeared again.

you could feel his panic through the screen.

finally, another text came through.

oscar: wait no oscar: i didn’t mean to send that oscar: ok i mean i did but not like this oscar: i am going to jump into traffic

you bit your lip, torn between laughing at his very obvious meltdown and screaming because holy shit, oscar just told you he loves you.

before he could actually throw himself into oncoming traffic, you typed back.

you: so you love me, huh?

the typing bubble appeared. stopped. appeared again.

then:

oscar: erm. yeah?

you grinned, your heart flipping as you typed back.

you: good. because i love you too.

the typing bubble stayed still for a long time. then:

oscar: okay i take it back, this was the perfect way to say it.

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ddarker-dreams · 10 days ago

Text

Afterimage.

Yan Anaxa x Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, and imbalanced power dynamics. Word count: 1k.

Anaxa scoffs at your resolve to prolong this stalemate.

His attempts to get you to stop ignoring him have proven unsuccessful thus far. Nonetheless, for an academic of his caliber, persevering despite numerous setbacks is second nature. His eye devours your being, cataloging every minor reaction as he verbally pokes and prods at you. He’s tested multiple methods to get you talking. Condescension, subtle and not-so-subtle threats, and even negotiation. His methods grow more refined with each subsequent attempt. He’ll discard what didn’t work and expand upon what did.

Through all this, you’ve learned that you may be stubborn, but so is he.

“Your petulance is losing its charm,” Anaxa remarks.

His fingers drum along the fine wood of his desk, a habit he adopts when seriously displeased. You don’t so much as acknowledge him with a glance. Instead, you turn the page of your book, even though the contents are mostly lost on you. It’s scrawled in a foreign script, like many of the tomes in his possession. At least this one has diagrams to look at, even if they instill you with a vague sense of foreboding.

You can hear the frown in his voice when he says your name. Resolute, you act like it was nothing more than the wind.

Your stomach turns inside out at the sound of his chair scraping, indicating that he’s getting up. He approaches in slow, steady steps, his shadow enveloping your form. Curiosity gets the better of you; you’re unable to stop yourself from sneaking a glance. He’s always had a weighty presence. His unbridled thirst for knowledge gives him an air of gravitas, demanding respect even from those who rebuke him. You’re no different. Deep down, you think you’ll always admire his intellect to some extent. It’s a sickness without a cure.

“Shall I take this as an admission of your defeat?” he asks. His provocation has its intended effect; you scrunch up your nose and furrow your eyebrows. “No? It’s the only conclusion I can arrive at. Your vow of silence must be owing to my superiority as a rhetorician; why else would you be so hesitant to contradict me?”

He’s trying to rile you up, you think. Don’t fall for it. For him to stoop to this level, he must be at his wits’ end…

“Come now, apologize, and all will be forgiven. Though you might be acting like one, you’re no fool. Surely you’re aware that there’s nothing to be gained from this stunt.”

You must be getting under his skin. He never talks down to you like this, even when you ask inane questions to get on his nerves. Great professors have an infinite well of patience to draw from. He might not mince his words, but there’s no cruelty behind them, only a desire to see you learn and grow.

You’re veering into uncharted territory.

You pull back from your book, giving the impression that you’re considering his offer. In reality, his condescension has strengthened your determination. It took every ounce of self-control you have not to chuck this ridiculously heavy tome at him during his diatribe. Irritated or not, for him to frame it like he’s doing you a favor by offering ‘forgiveness’ is inconceivable. The room’s tension eases as you feign thoughtfulness. Then, just out of spite, you exaggeratedly flip to the next page, amplifying the sound.

The silence that ensues is deafening.

In a flash, your book is snatched away, putting you face to face with a seething Anaxa.

“Twenty hours, forty minutes and thirty-two seconds,” he practically hisses out. “That’s how long I’ve entertained this folly. No more. I’ve learned my lesson — so shall you.”

The fear written over your countenance is reflected in his burning pupil. Seeing it, he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighing. Nothing can diminish the affection he holds for you, it seems. You were never grateful for it before, but you’re clinging to it like a lifeline now.

The wrath that struck him like lightning… you never want to witness it again.

“You’ve been keeping track of the time, Prof?” Your voice is slightly hoarse from disuse. His eye widens slightly, then narrows, apparently not finding the comment as amusing as you do. “Are you moonlighting as a clock these days?”

“Brazen beyond belief,” he shakes his head. “Of course, the first words you’d speak would be at my expense.”

“Flattery may have broken me sooner.”

He barks out a ‘hah!’

“I wrote verses for you before. If memory serves, you found creative uses for them.”

You forgot about that. Admittedly, they were well-written and imbued with a cleverness only he could offer. They still ended up serving as fodder for various crafts and machinations. Origami, kindling for a fire, papier-mâché… You clear your throat. He’s still upset with you, bringing up those past endeavors isn’t in your best interest.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you aren’t.”

You shift in your seat, his antagonism making you uncomfortable. You’ve always wondered how far you could push him. It’s gratifying in a way — tormenting your tormentor. There are few outlets for your frustration that work as well. Now, however, you have to admit he was right when he said you stood to gain nothing from this.

You hug yourself and look at the floor. “What now?”

He goes quiet. Eventually, he takes a seat beside you and crosses his legs. Your gaze at his side profile, noting how he’s staring straight ahead instead of maintaining eye contact. That’s unusual. As if sensing your thoughts, he turns to face you, his visage unreadable. All you can discern is a faint pink hue on his cheeks. Has all this conflict gotten him flustered? That doesn’t fit the image you have of him in your head.

“There were nights where our discussions went into the morning,” he says. The yearning in his voice isn’t lost on you. “Heh. Especially when you were determined to prove me wrong about something. I’d refuse to concede, just so I could hear you a while longer.”

You stare at him in disbelief, a faint ache rippling throughout your chest.

“Let’s talk, as we once did.”

"About what?" you ask.

"Anything," he replies without hesitation. “So long as I can hear your voice… anything will suffice.”

#just a short thing for him because he lives in my head rent-free #yandere anaxa x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere x reader #anaxa x reader #hsr x reader #anaxa brainrot #my stuff

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hargreeves-duncan · 6 days ago

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⎯⎯ LET ME LOVE YOU LIKE A WOMAN

visual is for vibes only, reader’s appearance is nondescript!

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: hotch uses an unconventional method to help you with your period cramps

warnings: SMUT - MINORS DNI, super-soft!dom!Hotch, p in v, period sex, clit stimulation

word count: 2.0k

a/n: this is completely self indulgent but i finally started watching criminal minds for garcia and morgan and ended up needing hotch bad so, enjoy!

You had been writhing on the couch all day.

It was the second day of your period - notoriously your worst - and the cramps had kept you practically bedridden, forcing you to work from home.

For the sixth time this hour, you shifted on the cushions, unable to focus on your screen.

The pain was that frustrating kind, just enough to pull your attention from everything else but not quite enough to justify taking pain meds.

It was the same every month: a low, dull ache curled deep in your abdomen. You felt it like clockwork and it sucked, but you were still alive.

It was manageable, you told yourself, so it never felt worth wasting medication. You’d soldier on every cycle until the pain became unbearable… or until Aaron forced you to take something.

With a sigh, you pushed your laptop off your lap and set it aside. You pressed the heels of your palms into your forehead, breathing slowly through your nose and shutting your eyes.

You’d Googled like a madwoman earlier that day, desperate for a natural solution, and stumbled across a strangely interesting fact:

Orgasms help relieve menstrual cramps.

You’d done some reading and learnt that the endorphins released during an orgasm acted as natural painkillers.

Feeling oddly proud of your discovery, you’d tried to cure your ache and replace it with a different kind of relief.

And it had worked, at first.

You’d laid a towel out on your queen-sized bed, gotten yourself off, and for a while, it had felt wonderful.

You cleaned up, but by the time you had, the cramps returned. Twenty minutes of relief, if that.

After that first failed attempt, you didn’t have the energy to keep trying and finish your work for the day.

So, work had won out and you were still in pain.

You looked up at the sound of the front door clicking open.

Aaron stepped inside, dropping his keys into the dish by the door. He left his bag on the floor, his eyes finding yours - curled up on the couch under a throw blanket, your laptop abandoned and at least three empty mugs scattered across the coffee table.

“Hey,” he said gently, toeing off his shoes, “How are you feeling?”

You offered a weak smile, more out of habit than anything else, “Like death.”

Aaron gave you a sympathetic smile of his own as he crossed the room, suit jacket already halfway off.

He set the jacket on the back of a nearby chair, then came to crouch in front of you.

His hand ran lightly over your shin, over the blanket, “Second day?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

You nodded, your eyes heavy-lidded from the day’s fatigue.

“Did you take anything for the pain?”

You gave a small shake of your head, “It’s not bad enough.”

He tilted his head slightly, reaching up to cup one side of your face with his large hand as he studied your expression, “You don’t look like you believe that.”

“I don’t want to waste the meds,” you mumbled, letting your head drop against his palm, “I’ll survive.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“You always say that,” he said softly, his thumb brushing along your cheek, “And then I find you curled up in pain, refusing to do anything about it.”

“I’m fine,” you huffed, closing your eyes briefly as his thumb continued over your skin, just below your cheekbone.

“You’re not,” he countered, eyes softening as they looked you over, “And that’s fine, but you’re not.”

You opened your eyes again, the effort slow, “I tried something earlier,” you admitted.

Aaron nodded, edging closer to you, the couch rustling beneath him, “Yeah?”

You nodded slowly, “I… read that orgasms can help. With cramps.”

A flicker of something passed over his face - not judgement or surprise, but understanding. He shifted, sliding his other arm around your shoulders to bring you in.

“Yeah? I’ve heard that before.”

You pressed your face further into his palm, letting out a shaky breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“Yeah, well, it worked… sort of,” you sighed, “For like, twenty minutes. Then, it came back worse.”

Aaron’s hand drifted down, his fingers tracing slow circles over the back of your arm with a sigh, “I’m sorry, honey.”

He kissed the side of your head, both hands guiding your arms toward your centre, thumbs stroking gently, “You want to try again?”

You hesitated, weighed down by sheer exhaustion, “I don’t know if I have it in me to try it again, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that you do it yourself,” he said lowly, his voice growing unmistakably intimate.

You turned slightly to look up at him. He was already watching you, expectantly.

He raised his eyebrows at you again.

“I just want it to stop hurting,” you relented, whispering meekly as you shifted your hips.

“I know,” he cooed, dipping his head a little closer, his forehead brushing gently against yours, “Let me take care of it, honey.”

The way he said it, so soft and assured, made your chest tighten. It was never a demand with Aaron. Only ever an offering.

You gave a quiet nod and that was all he needed.

His touch travelled beneath the blanket, smoothing over your legs, coaxing them apart without pulling you out of your personal cocoon.

“You’re okay,” he whispered as you shifted over for him, “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

His palm was warm against your thigh. He kissed your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, never rushing, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I won’t,” you smiled coyly, letting your head fall back against the arm of the couch.

Aaron smiled faintly, “You’re so good,” he said, barely above a whisper, “Always pushing through.”

His fingers moved between your legs slowly, reverently. No fumbling or haste.

“My brave girl.”

He kissed your jaw as his fingers began to move in slow, careful circles. Not giving you too much, just enough to ease your ache with a nice, steady pressure.

“Talk to me, honey,” he said, “Is it easing up?”

You exhaled, eyes fluttering shut as you nodded, “Feels better.”

Aaron made a soft sound, something between relief and affection, and pressed another kiss to your temple.

“Good,” he whispered, “I’ve got you.”

He stayed close, leaning over your frame as his fingers moved with more intention, his knuckles gently pressing against your clit.

The room was quiet except for your soft breaths and the gentle rustling of your blanket.

He kissed the underside of your jaw, feeling your hips lift to meet his touch, “There you go.”

You rolled your head to the side, and Aaron smirked, trailing kisses over the newly exposed skin.

His rhythm never faltered, fingers coaxing a soothing rhythm against you that eased the ache in your belly.

“Just like that,” he mumbled, voice low as he pressed his fingers down that little bit harder, “You’re doing so well.”

You sighed, the tension in your muscles easing bit by bit. He breathed heavily, eyes falling over your body, the expanse of your neck. You looked so good like this.

“Whenever you want it, just tell me,” he whispered, “I’m right here.”

“Whatever you want, hon.”

You ground against his fingertips, desperate for some kind of release, the pleasure soothing the lingering pain inside of you.

“Just… keep going,” you pleaded softly, biting your lip.

He caught your gaze, eyes softening, “Of course.”

Watching the rise and fall of your chest grow heavier, Aaron slid his fingers down to let them glide over your entrance, gathering a mixture of slick and blood.

He breathed through his nose. You gasped.

He pulled his hand back, traces of your arousal clinging to his thick fingers.

“Upstairs. Go.”

The grit to his voice made your knees go weak.

Aaron stood, expression composed, though urgency simmered just beneath it, “I’ll be right behind you,” he promised quietly.

You didn’t hesitate.

The moment the words left his mouth, you pushed the blanket aside and rose from the couch, your legs shaky but determined.

The ache in your abdomen was still there, but far less painful now, thanks to Aaron’s touch.

You reached the bedroom and stepped inside, the familiar scent of clean linen and his cologne flooding your senses.

The bed was still unmade, your towel still folded at the foot of it as a reminder of your earlier efforts.

You laid it out over the centre of the bed, just as Aaron’s footsteps arrived, as promised.

His arms slid around your waist from behind, his hands moving around to cup your stomach.

You hummed appreciatively, leaning into his touch.

He turned you around to face him, effortlessly, your eyes searching his for instruction. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, his tie discarded.

He cupped your face with both hands this time, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he tugged you up into a kiss. You melted into him, feeling his tongue meet yours.

His touch roamed down your sides, guiding you gently to the bed. The mattress gave beneath your weight, and he followed, settling over you.

He sat back, looking over you fondly, as if you were a work of art and not what you felt like - a gross ball of a human being.

Aaron’s lips curved into a soft smile before he kissed you again, slower this time.

His hands moved with gentle purpose, exploring familiar paths, and never, ever rushing.

“Just breathe,” he said once more, voice warm against your skin as he sensed your self-loathing.

He returned seconds later, sitting beside you again. His eyes never left yours as he unbuckled his belt.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him roll the condom over himself. He was already hard and the thought of him feeling that way just from touching you made your body grow hot.

He reached out, his hand warm as it rested gently on your hip. His gaze flickered between your eyes and lips, silently asking for permission.

You parted your lips slightly, giving the smallest nod.

His other hand began to trace light, circular motions along your ribs. You slid your arm over his chest, and around his neck, tugging his face down to rest against yours.

Aaron took that as a sign to move. You felt his tip hesitantly press at your entrance a few times, before slipping inside of you.

Your lips parted in a moan, your grip tightening on his shoulders.

He moved slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust to every inch.

“You’re doing so, so well,” he praised, his voice growing huskier.

You squeezed your eyes shut. Aaron was huge. Sometimes he was even too huge, but right now, his size was devouring the pain, replacing it with a delicious fullness that had your eyelids fluttering.

His grip stayed anchored to your hips, guiding the pace as he began to press deeper. In, out. In, out.

He leaned down, whispering, “You’re incredible.”

His eyes locked between your hips, watching how, with each steady thrust, your cunt absorbed him in a pool of red slick.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, nails lightly grazing the fabric as you clenched around him.

“Look at me, honey,” he huffed breathlessly, lifting your chin with a gentle hand.

Your eyes met his.

“Getting close?” he asked, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

You nodded, drawing in a shaky breath as waves of relief and pleasure washed over you, your cramps long forgotten.

Aaron’s movements picked up, his lips finding yours in a lingering, purposeful kiss. He was determined to push you over the edge.

He deepened the kiss, his pace quickening as his hold on your hips grew tighter.

You responded in kind, your breath hitching, feeling the pleasure flood through you like a rising tide.

“That’s it,” Aaron whispered against your lips lustfully, “Let go for me, sweetheart.”

Your body trembled, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, your release washing away the lingering ache, leaving complete euphoria in its wake.

Aaron held you through it, his touch gentle as you rode out the waves of your orgasm.

When you finally caught your breath, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I’ve got you,” he shuddered, wrapping his arms around you.

You weren’t sure how long the relief would last… but you were certain that, no matter what, Aaron would be there to give you everything you needed until it was gone completely.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #thomas gibson

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exhaled-spirals · 5 months ago

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« The culture of the 21st century – on an increasingly planetary scale – is oriented around the practical principles of utility, effectiveness and impact. The worth of anything – an idea, an activity, an artwork, a relationship with another person – is determined pragmatically: things are good to the extent that they are instrumental, with instrumentality usually defined as the capacity to produce money or things.

[…O]ur culture of instrumentality has settled like a thick fog over the idea that some activities are worth pursuing simply because they share in the beautiful, the good, or the true. No amount of birdwatching will win a person the presidency or a Beverly Hills mansion; making music with friends will not cure cancer or establish a colony on Mars. But the real project of humanity – of understanding ourselves as human beings, making a good world to live in, and striving together toward mutual flourishing – depends paradoxically upon the continued pursuit of what Hitz calls ‘splendid uselessness’.

[…N]ot all useless activity is actually good. Binge-watching television, being hooked on drugs, or spending one’s day doing nothing but eating are useless activities, to be sure. But truly splendid uselessness nourishes and elevates us spiritually, rather than simply providing a rush of mental or bodily pleasure. The output is always more than the input: the contemplation of nature, the joy of music-making, and even the study of mathematics can be rich and ennobling activities that, while also being pleasurable, reward the intellect and the soul. And the more we engage in these kinds of activities, the more we hone our sensibility and capacity for receptivity […].

While rewarding each of us internally, splendid uselessness enriches the world beyond us. Like the fertile soil of a well-kept garden, a life of splendid uselessness provides abundance far beyond one’s immediate aims, […] tends to overflow, to bring more goodness and beauty into being: one good poem can spark a dozen others […]. »

— Joseph M Keegin, "A life of splendid uselessness is a life well lived"

#quote #joseph keegin #life #english

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reidmotif · 11 months ago

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Relax, I've Got You

Summary: Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: friends-with-benefits situation, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), mentions of anxiety/symptoms of anxiety.

Word Count: 2.7 k

Masterlist

You were never good at handling stress.

You were well aware of this facet of your psyche– the way tensity would often wind around your limbs, snaking into the very depths of your bones until you were entirely drained and devoid of peace, a shell of the person you were accustomed to being.

You had dealt with this complication on your own for the most part. You’d come home after a long day, and attempt to find yourself again through chamomile tea, lavender mists, and a warm blanket.

Of course, there were days where even these measures could not suffice in curing your weariness.

That’s where Spencer Reid came in.

He’d only been your roommate at first. With the economy going as it was, it was simply more practical to find one, rather than renting alone. He’d responded to an ad you’d put up, and you accepted. The process was easy, honestly. You had no qualms about sharing your living space with another person, and even found the arrangement enjoyable at times. Spencer was well-mannered, never missed rent, and wasn’t even at home most of the time. When he was, he was quiet. Sweet.

Through time, you found yourself becoming friends with the man. The conversation was light and easy, and in a rare turn of events, you started to open up to him. Even more surprisingly, he returned the favor, adding to the understanding that was fast growing between the two of you. It seemed only natural, since both of you were made naturally vulnerable by the circumstances of your situation. You’d come to your apartment, drop the mask of the day, and see that Spencer was already there, becoming an extension of the solace you found at home. Soon enough, the comfort of your couch was simply synonymous to him as well.

It didn’t take long for Spencer to notice the anxieties that would plague you when a deadline came about, or when you simply fixated on an issue for too long. The way your bedroom light wouldn’t shut until 4 AM, or how you’d pace in the kitchen, so wired that your body denied you the rest you so desperately needed. He noticed the dark circles, the occasional irritability (followed by an apology, of course), the headaches, everything. Which is why he thought nothing of it to suggest some remedies for your troubles over breakfast one day.

“Caffeine can actually increase stress, if you weren’t aware.” He says, eyeing your second cup of coffee that morning. “There’s actually a large amount of data that indicates you should limit caffeine intake, especially if you’re already anxious.”

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly. “Says who?” You retort, not quite ready to give up your chosen beverage.

“The NIH, Penn State, the AMA-”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I got it.” You interrupt, knowing you’d started a losing battle the moment you’d questioned him. “I’ll try to cut down on it.”

He grins, satisfied with how the interaction had played out. You, on the other hand, started to drift farther away from your current setting. You swallow, putting down your coffee cup before rubbing your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you.

“Something wrong?” Spencer asks, cautiously, his voice soft.

You tsk, shaking your head and shrugging a bit at your own dilemma. “It's just.. I’m already so tired. I’m exhausted and the day’s barely begun.” You pause, unable to articulate just how fatigued you were. “It’s like I can already feel the mid-afternoon headache I’m going to get later, and it hasn’t even started yet.” You hate the way you sound, longing for the day you could fully relax for even a fraction of a second.

“You’d probably be a lot less tired if you slept a little more.” Spencer suggests, and you shoot him a death glare.

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy. It’s just-” You groan, stopping yourself as the quick realization dawns on you that you’ve misdirected your frustrations. There’s a wave of shame rising up almost immediately, heating your cheeks up in regret.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. Sorry. That’s unfair of me. I know you’re just looking out for me.” You murmur, taking a deep breath to calm your senses.

“Hey, don’t worry.” He says, his voice low and compassionate. “I get it. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”

You nod, closing your eyes as you continue to breathe. He continues to speak, his voice remaining warmhearted.

“There are actually quite a few ways to alleviate stress. Some experts recommend meditation, exercise and yoga. I wouldn’t mind doing those with you, if you were interested.” He offers, as he continues to ramble, lost in his own explanation in the hopes of being of service to you. “Some experts even name sex as a useful stress reliever, due to the endorphins and oxytocin released after completion.”

You give a fruitless laugh. “Jesus, I wish. I don’t have the time to try and find someone willing to do that for me.”

Spencer goes quiet, and you finally open your eyes. You’re met with his stare, trained on your form, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“What?” You ask, upon returning his gaze.

He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if he was ridding himself of a passing thought. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m sorry. I hope you do find something that works for you though. I hate seeing you like this.”

You soften at his concern. “Thanks, Spencer.” You say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “Maybe I’ll end up taking on.. Yoga? That seems doable, right?”

He smiles. “Yoga. Right.”

The days pass on, until you find yourself in a similar scenario you’ve been in one too many times. You’re pacing the kitchen, a small clock reading that it was currently 2 AM. You couldn’t even really decipher the source of tonight’s anxiety– all you know is you feel it, and you feel it deeply.

That’s when a voice breaks through the darkness, halting your movements altogether.

“Hey, are you alright?” Spencer’s soft, slightly deeper voice.

“Oh, yeah.” You call out, despite the growing tightness in your chest. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.”

He shakes his head, scratching his head as he makes his way towards you. “It’s nothing.” He reassures. “I needed to pee anyway. What’s going on with you?” He inquires, gently.

You rub at your chest, biting your lip. “The usual.”

“Work?” He asks, softly.

You purse your lips. “I’m not even sure at this point. Just really anxious.”

His expression softens. A beat of silence passes between the two of you.

“I’m- um. I’m willing to help.” He stammers out, suddenly seeming much more nervous than he was a moment ago.

You give a dejected smile. “That’s sweet, Spencer, but I dunno. I think I have to deal with this on my own.”

“No, I mean. I can help. I’m willing to help. To do that for you. I’m your friend. I want to help.” He restates, his voice a little urgent.

“Willing to do what?” You ask, wholly confused with where he was going with this.

He takes a breath. “Sex. Or, an orgasm, at least. You said no one you knew would be willing to help you like that. I am. If you want.” He blurts out.

You stand there, momentarily shocked into silence. You’re suddenly able to recall the conversation you’d had, just a few days prior, and realize what he was trying to say. Here you were, in your kitchen, with your friend- your roommate, and he was selflessly offering himself to you. For sex. For de-stressing sex. He sounded so earnest, despite the obvious lewdness of his offer, and the juxtaposition made your head spin.

“I..” You start, your voice caught in your throat.

“You don’t have to feel compelled to say yes. I’m just offering. I want to help you.” He interjects, his voice still carrying that unselfishness you’d known from the very beginning.

“I.. no. I mean, yes. I want to say yes.” You find yourself admitting after a moment. “But.. are you sure? It’s.. I mean, it’s sex, Spencer.” You whisper.

“I’m aware.” He says, matching your softer tone. “I’m okay with that. Are you?”

You take a breath. Looking up at him, you take in his slightly tousled hair illuminated by the soft moonlight that drifted in through your apartment windows. His white sleep shirt was crumpled, and even in the darkness that enveloped you, you could decipher the kindness in his eyes, his mere presence bringing a shade of ease into you as you spoke to him.

“Yes.” You murmur out, the words flowing out with no hesitation. “I’m okay with that.”

“Can I kiss you?” He says, gently, and your nod of affirmation is almost immediate.

He steps closer and cups your cheek, before pressing his lips against yours gently. It’s a sweeter kiss, something that, despite never saying out loud, you would have expected from him. His mouth moves languidly against yours, before pulling away, slightly out of breath.

“Kissing actually helps to reduce cortisol.” He murmurs. “It indirectly lowers stress as a result. Is it working?”

And true to his words, you realized that the tightness in your chest had faded somewhat, no longer blaring with the intensity you had just felt a few minutes prior. An entirely new feeling settled within you- an ache, a need for this man and what he brought to you.

“Yeah. It’s working.” You mumble out.

As if he could read your mind, Spencer gently takes your hand. “Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” He murmurs, already leading you to his spot of preference.

He gently guides you to sit on the couch, quickly finding your lips once again to exchange some soft kisses along the way. His hands drift up and down your back, fingertips light and tender. His every touch speaks to something more, to an unspoken dedication that you’d never felt before until this moment.

To something that maybe extended beyond the original purpose of your rendezvous. “Is this alright?” He asks, his tone hushed and reverent.

You nod, almost in a trance. He was so gentle, so reassuring. He was exactly what you needed.

His lips find yours again and you respond eagerly, letting your hands tangle into the mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. He let out a small groan as your fingers slightly tugged on the strands, sending a thrill through you.

He starts to trail the kisses down your neck, seeking out more sensitive spots that could bring you into a further state of rest and repose. Everything about you spurred him on, it seemed. He paid attention to every noise, every movement– his ultimate goal seeming to hinge on your pleasure throughout this.

Of course, you respond accordingly to the dedication, a soft gasp or whimper escaping you when he would mouth at the perfect spot, which would only cause him to increase his actions tenfold, leading to even more response on your end.

The perfect feedback loop driving you to pliancy and ecstasy all at once.

His lips begin to drift down, and you realize he’s settling in between your legs now, hands on the waistband of your sleep clothes, urging you to lie down completely, which you do.

“Gonna take these off now.” He whispers, looking up at you between your legs.

“Please.” You respond, waiting with bated breath.

He manages to pull down the last barrier between you two, before being met with the mess he’d created. His lips parted as his fingers trailed lightly over your wet slit, your arousal evident on his finger as he marveled on the effect he could have on you.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, as if his eyes are set upon something precious, something worthy of worship. And in a way, isn’t that exactly what he’d set out to do the moment he’d placed his face between your thighs?

He loops his arms around your thighs, before slowly allowing his tongue to dart out, delicately, tracing the wetness of your pussy. A moan slips out of you, low and needy, and that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s diving in, devouring your cunt like a man starved.

“Spencer.” You gasp out. You say his name like prayer, like he is god-given, because in this moment, he is.

His tongue traces your clit in circles, before directly placing his lips over the swollen bud, applying some light suction. The tenderness in the action, the way his eyes flit upto yours, watching your gaze for the utmost reassurance that he was doing right by you, only hurdle you closer and closer to your pleasurable end.

It’s almost as if you’re floating, your back arching as his face stubbornly stays buried in your cunt, lapping at your wetness insistently. He wants your release just as bad as you do, and it’s clear he’ll do anything for the sweetness that comes with you falling apart in his arms.

“Oh god.” You moan out- how is it possible to feel so airy, and yet so present all at once? To feel every movement of Spencer’s warm, wet tongue lavishing your clit, and still be somewhere else entirely- a new height of pleasure you had sorely needed all along.

One of his hands leaves the iron-grip it had your thighs in, letting his fingers drift towards your entrance. He slips the digits in, slowly pumping into you, only adding to the overwhelming rapture you found yourself in. Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself writhing against him.

“Spencer- oh god. Please, please.” You babble out, legs starting to tense with the beginnings of your orgasm.

He only pulls away enough to murmur softly. “That’s it.” His fingers continue their steady pace into you, his grip on your thigh keeping you planted to the mattress. “I got you, love. Come for me.”

With nothing else to say, he resumes eating you out, and the combination of his fingers and mouth finally barrels you towards your orgasm, shuddering as it rips through you, as your every sense is clouded- with this, with him.

It’s only until you’ve ridden out the entirety of your orgasm that he pulls away. Sitting upright, he leans forward to caress your jaw, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flushed appearance your face had taken on in the throes of gratification.

“Feeling better?” He asks, softly.

“Entirely.” You whisper back, almost in awe. Not only at how well it worked, but how adoringly he stared at you, it being enough to stop your heart in your chest. Did he always look like this? How did you never notice?

“Can I return the favor?” You implore, already beginning to get up, but Spencer pushes you back down lightly, shaking his head.

“You’re tired.” He says, as if his word was fact, despite these being your feelings that were being spoken about. “Right now, the oxytocin coursing through your body is priming you perfectly for sleep, and God knows you need it.” He chuckles out.

You realize that he’s right, and for the first time, you feel the fatigue that comes naturally with sleep, as opposed to the restless nights you’d been dealing with. You still feel disappointed though, feeling a sting of rejection as you’re unable to touch him back. Still, your tiredness is undeniable, and so you nod.

He gets up, finding a blanket to lay on top of you, before kneeling beside your face. He looks at you with subtle veneration, before letting his lips brush against your forehead.

“I’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow, though, if that’s alright.” He murmurs. “When you’re rested.”

Your smile is immediate. “Deal.” You whisper out.

He looks at you for another beat, before letting his knuckles brush against your cheek, slowly retreating to his bedroom, as to let you get the rest you so desperately needed.

You close your eyes, amazed by the tranquility that came with Spencer. How simple intimacy came with him, as if that’s how it should’ve been all along.

You know you’ll ponder on this fact in greater detail later on, but for now, you relished in serenity of the afterglow.

“Spencer Reid.” You think. “What divine comfort you are.”

HOOOLY SHIT. how long has it been since i uploaded? a long time? i think. hahahaha. in between traveling, [redacted life updates], and even more, i just wasn't very inspired to write. i hope this speaks to some of you, and i hope it was enjoyable to read. as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs are so so so deeply appreciated. feedback as well! thank you so so so much for reading regardless, i am eternally grateful for any and all support <3 (oh also haha. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge! check it out.)

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1-800-adore-me · 4 months ago

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˖ ࣪⭑ Playing House with Zayne and Caleb🍳

Thinking about Caleb, Zayne, and MC in their childhood playing house together. Zayne as the Dad, you as the Mom, and Caleb… as the family dog.

When Caleb was assigned to be the dog in the play scenario, it would be an understatement that he was distraught by it, especially since you assigned Zayne to be the dad while you were the mom. He tried to change the roles - asking if he could be your neighbor or the mailman but alas, you stubbornly insisted that he should be the dog. After all, he fit the criteria of being one. He was loyal, playful, and always seemed to follow you around. Who else could be fit to be the family’s furry member?

At first, he tried to play along until he felt too felt out when he was sitting on the floor, watching you and Zayne have dinner together as the two of you cut into your plated toy foods. The way you two naturally had a conversation about bills and rent made him irritated. - “I’m supposed to be sitting where Zayne is.” - He’d think. He’d pout and stick around since it made you happy that he was playing along but he was always in a bad mood.

However, when you finally paid attention to him and ordered him to give you paw, the sparkles in your eyes could never be outshined by anything else. He was blinded by how happy you looked as you pet him, offered him encouraging praises, and even rubbed his belly through his clothing. That’s when it hit him - he received so much of your dear attention as he continued playing this dog role.

So he decided to take advantage of this. Whenever he felt like Zayne was getting too much attention from you, he’d rolled over on his back and whine. Whenever you praised him, he would give you cuddles and big hugs, enveloping your small body with his bigger one. After completing an order from you, he would beg for headpats until you messed up his hair. At one point, he even nuzzled against your cheek when you called him a good boy.

One day, Zayn came back from work and let out a heavy sigh. You turned your head towards him as you asked him how his day was. “The hospital was busy. I was curing cancer and I just wanted to come back home to you, honey.”

Immediately, Caleb rolled onto his back and whined. Your attention was then given to the poor puppy as you rushed over to him. - “What happened, puppy? Are you okay?” - You’d ask in your small voice as you kneeled next to him and stroked his head. You could practically see his imaginary dog tail wagging by now.

He gave a sad face and said that he was feeling lonely. In response, you gave him a big hug and nuzzled his face, reassuring him that you wouldn’t abandon him and that you loved how good of a dog he was. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck as his eyes shot daggers at Zayne, who was properly confused and sickened by Caleb’s behavior. Zayne had an eyebrow raise as he was slowly cutting into his toy steak with the plastic knife, finally clearing his throat.

“Honey, you should finish your food before it gets cold. You’ve spent quite an amount of time preparing this while I was hard at work.” Zayne would say, also shooting daggers at Caleb.

“But our puppy is feeling lonely! I didn’t give him hugs and cuddles all day while I was cleaning and cooking!” You’d cry out as you hugged the dear puppy closer to you. Caleb gave a satisfied hum as he smirked.

“Perhaps the puppy should go back to his dog house and have his dinner there then. You go ahead and eat, I’ll take him.”

“Really? That’s so sweet of you, honey!” You’d beam at your husband as you let go of Caleb and sat at the dinner table, now humming as it was finally your turn to enjoy the delicious steak dinner you’ve whipped up.

Distracted by your house playing, you didn’t hear Caleb growl at Zayne as the boy dragged him by the collar of his shirt to behind the tree. Caleb struggled against Zayne’s hold as they wrestled with each other, glaring at each other for disturbing their moments with you. You didn’t notice how long they were gone until they came back to you with their hair messy, clothes misaligned, and dirt all over them.

“What happened!? Oh no… Grandma is going to be so mad that Zayne is dirty now!” Your tears started to spill out of your eyes as you could already imagine the scolding from Gran - her asking what you and Caleb did to Zayne, the precious guest that should always be treated as a king in their household.

“The puppy was defying me.”

“He was trying to kick me out.”

The two boys spoke at the same time, glaring at each other again once they realized what they said. Then, they began arguing. -”That’s only because you’re a clingy dog. You’re not even letting your owner eat her food.” - “You’re one to talk when you’re always hoggin’ her attention!”

You’ve started to think that playing house wouldn’t be a good idea anymore with Caleb and Zayne.

#lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #caleb x you #l&ds caleb #caleb x y/n #fluff #crack fic #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #lnds zayne #zayne x reader #l&ds zayne #zayne x you

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 4 months ago

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Stress Relief (Sex) With ProHero Shoto | One Shot

Summary: You come home from work in a bad mood and your Pro Hero boyfriend thinks a good fuck will help you relieve some stress. Shoto is as straight forward and sexy as ever, and you love him for it.

Important Notes/TW: All characters are A21+, Shoto is a Pro Hero, Shoto x Reader are in a long term relationship, penetrative sex, MDNI, This is an adult only blog posting mature content

At 6 o'clock on the dot you storm into the apartment in a work-induced rage. You toss your bag to the ground and manhandle your jacket off of your body with the angst of a thousand fiery suns. When you finally shut the door you throw back your head and let out a guttural "ughhhhh!"

Shoto watches you from the couch, unblinking as he dips his hand into a Tupperware of roasted chickpeas you cooked for him the day before. He worked all of last night so he's currently lounging in comfy clothes watching some nature documentary. His hands are bandaged up and healing from a particularly tough battle so he's been granted a few days off to recover and catch up on paperwork.

"Shoto you won't believe what my boss said to me today. Corporate work is so fucking frustrating." You pull at your hair and stamp around the apartment - tossing your keys on the kitchen table with a clatter. You open the fridge, look inside, slam it shut. You're just so damn wound up you can't even figure out what to do with yourself. You turn around to march towards the bathroom - maybe a calming hot shower is just the thing you need to switch off this abhorrent mood. You turn on your heel and walk right into Shoto's strong chest.

Sneaky bastard - he moves so quietly sometimes, like a sly cat. For the umpteenth time you make a mental note to put a bell on him.

Shoto reaches down to rest his bandaged hands lightly on your shoulders. He stares down at you with that intense gaze of his, mouth in a hard line.

"I know what you need." He says seriously, gaze flickering briefly down to your lips and back to your eyes.

Your foul mood simmers. You can't help but be a little bitchy to your sweet boyfriend. "And what the fuck do I need, Sho?" You give him a hard look, but he remains unfazed.

"You need a good fuck." He says, completely serious. No hint of sarcasm or teasing can be found.

Your eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

"Whenever you get this frustrated with work or your friends or politics, sex always seems to make you feel better. It mellows you out. Would you like me to fuck you? I have some free time right now since I'm off from work." He looks down at his hands pointedly. They flex around your shoulders and the bandages rustle. "I probably shouldn't use my hands much, though. So I can't do that thing you like."

You look up at Shoto, stunned. You've been together for years and sometimes you forget how unnervingly straight forward he can be.

You suck in a deep breath, the tension in your body already melting away as you recall how good Shoto feels inside of you. Your pussy crackles to life - all of a sudden your clit is practically begging for attention.

"Yeah, Sho. Fuck me?" You look up at him with glimmering eyes and he doesn't need telling twice. He slides his hands from your shoulders and bends down so he can carefully haul you up into his arms. You let out a laugh as you feel his thick biceps flex around you. You can almost guarantee that seeing Shoto naked will cure all of your troubles. He carries you off towards the bedroom and you can already feel him hard and ready in his sweatpants.

"I missed you today." He says as he tosses you lightly onto the bed. You bounce as you hit the mattress and it rips another giggle from your tense body.

"I missed you last night. I hate when you get into fights." You look up at him with big eyes, recalling earlier this morning when you saw him return home all bloody and bruised.

"I know. I'm sorry." Shoto say softly, leaning down to place a kiss on your temple. You close your eyes at the delicate contact of his lips against your skin, feeling the warmth of the kiss spread through your body like the glow of a bonfire. "I try to be careful. I know you worry."

When your eyes flutter open, you take in the way that Shoto stands over you posessively, all tall ProHero bulk. He peels off his shirt, revealing rippling muscles and hard-earned battle scars. He unceremoniously steps out of his shorts and underwear, his cock rock hard and glistening with precum.

You wriggle out of your own clothes as he stares you down with those beautiful mismatched eyes. He takes his dick in his hand and pumps, moaning openly as he starts to jerk himself off while staring at your breasts. God, you love his cock. It's the perfect length for you - 6 inches long with some weight to it, leaning slightly towards the left. You love that you're the only person on Earth who knows how his hard cock looks.

Shoto leans forward over you to grab a pillow, placing it under your butt so you'll be more comfortable. His movements are delicate - you ache as you realize that his hands must really be hurting beneath all of those bandages. You reach for one of them, bringing the bandaged material to your lips for a gentle kiss. He looks at you with such fondness you feel that your heart might melt.

"Thanks, love."

You open your legs for him and lay back on the bed, all thoughts of work temporarily forgotten as he slides himself against your entrance slowly. You both shudder at the contact - your pussy is slippery and wet and ready to be filled with his pulsing cock. He takes things slow, enjoying the way your body slides and stretches around him as he pushes into you. You let out a moan as Shoto fills you with his cock, all frustration has vanished. All you can do is focus on the feel of Shoto and his goddamn perfect dick inside of you.

When Shoto's almost all the way inside, he pauses to look down at you through light lashes. "I'm glad you were up for this." He says softly, thrusting forward lightly to bottom out inside of you. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside of you that no one else has ever come close to touching.

"I can definitely use some stress release, too."

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mikkies · 1 month ago

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「 COME ON, DON'T LEAVE ME, IT CAN'T BE THAT EASY BABE. 」

Griefer x GN! Gardener! Botanist! Player(?)! Reader

warnings: stabbing yourself with the Venomshank

notes: Are they the Player? Hmmmm.. I'm gonna assume they are.

THE JUNGLE AROUND Turitopulis was alive with the chatter of birds and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

You and Brad—or as he insisted on being called, Griefer—strolled through the greenery, a basket of freshly picked fruits swinging between you.

Despite his usual grumbling, he was uncharacteristically quiet, his red eyes scanning the trees. He still bore remnants of the plant-like features left behind after his recovery, vine-like patterns etched faintly into his skin.

“You okay?” you asked, handing him a bright orange fruit. He bit into it with a loud crunch, juice dripping down his chin.

“JUST T4K1N’ 1T 1N,” he mumbled, chewing. “D1DN’T R34L1Z3 H0W C00L TH1S PL4C3 W4S B3F0R3.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Wait until we get back and make those fruit shakes.”

Later, in the small clearing you’d set up as your garden, you worked side by side planting new flowers and tending to the older ones.

Griefer was surprisingly gentle as he handled the seedlings, though he complained loudly whenever he got dirt on his jacket. “WH0 C4M3 UP W1TH G4RD3N1N’? ST1CK T0 G4M1N’. L3SS M3SSY.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, brushing soil off your hands. “You’re practically one with nature now. Embrace it.”

That night, however, as the moon rose high over the jungle, a chilling whisper called to you from the shadows. The Venomshank, one of the cursed swords, was still hidden deep within the jungle. Unable to resist its pull, you found yourself walking into the dense foliage, its voice growing louder with every step.

By the time Griefer and Mayor Thaniyel found you in a dark cave, the whispers had consumed your mind. The sword glinted ominously in your hand, its influence too strong to resist. Before either of them could reach you, you drove it into your arm, its power coursing through you as your body began to transform.

Vines and petals of your favorite flower—roses—wrapped around your form, turning you into a fearsome yet tragically beautiful creature.

“[N4M3]!” Griefer’s voice cracked as he lunged forward, trying to reach you. “N0T L1K3 TH1S!”

The battle that followed was intense and heart-wrenching. Griefer fought desperately, trying to avoid harming you while fending off your attacks. His shouts echoed in the cavern, filled with a mixture of anger, fear, and determination.

Finally, with the Mayor’s help, they subdued you, carrying your unconscious form back to Turitopulis.

In the days that followed, Brad threw himself into finding the ingredients for the cure: an onion ring and a rare compound. “0N10N R1NG? TH1S 1S STUP1D,” he muttered, but his resolve never wavered.

When you finally woke, the transformation reversed but not entirely—petal-like features remained on your skin, mirroring Griefer's vine patterns. As you blinked up at him, he grinned, his red teeth flashing. “W3 M4TCH N0W. Y0U’R3 ST1LL A P41N, BUT Y0U’R3 MY P41N.”

You laughed softly, tears in your eyes as you reached for his hand. Despite everything, you knew you’d always find your way back to each other.

#* ∙ ✰ ◞ 미키 ✗ posts.#blocktales #roblox block tales #block tales #block tales x reader #blocktales x reader #block tales x you #block tales roblox #roblox blocktales #griefer x reader #griefer x you #block tales griefer #griefer blocktales #blocktales griefer #blocktales roblox #x reader

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afeelgoodblog · 5 months ago

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The Best News of Last Year - 2024 Edition

Welcome to our special edition newsletter recapping the best news from the past year. I've picked one highlight from each month to give you a snapshot of 2024. No frills, just straightforward news that mattered. Let's relive the good stuff that made our year shine.

1. January - South Korea passes law banning dog meat trade

The slaughter and sale of dogs for their meat is to become illegal in South Korea after MPs backed a new law. The legislation, set to come into force by 2027, aims to end the centuries-old practice of humans eating dog meat.

2. February - Greece legalises same-sex marriage

Greece has become the first Christian Orthodox-majority country to legalise same-sex marriage. Same-sex couples will now also be legally allowed to adopt children after Thursday's 176-76 vote in parliament. Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis said the new law would "boldly abolish a serious inequality".

3. March - Global child deaths reach historic low in 2022 – UN report

The number of children who died before their fifth birthday has reached a historic low, dropping to 4.9 million in 2022. The report reveals that more children are surviving today than ever before, with the global under-5 mortality rate declining by 51 per cent since 2000.

4. April - Restoring sight is possible now with optogenetics

Max Hodak's startup, Science, is developing gene therapy solutions to restore vision for individuals with macular degeneration and similar conditions. The Science Eye utilizes optogenetics, injecting opsins into the eye to enhance light sensitivity in retinal cells. Clinical trials and advancements in optogenetics are showing promising results, with the potential to significantly improve vision for those affected by retinal diseases.

5. May - Vaccine breakthrough means no more chasing strains

Scientists at UC Riverside have demonstrated a new, RNA-based vaccine strategy that is effective against any strain of a virus and can be used safely even by babies or the immunocompromised.

6. June - Bill Gates-backed startup creates Lego-like brick that can store air pollution for centuries

The Washington Post detailed a "deceptively simple" procedure by Graphyte to store a ton of CO2 for around $100 a ton, a number long considered a milestone for affordably removing carbon dioxide from the air. Direct air capture technologies used in the United States and Iceland cost $600 to $1,200 per ton, per the Post.

7. July - Stem cell therapy cures man with type 2 diabetes

A 59-year-old man had been suffering from diabetes for 25 years, needing more and more insulin every day to avoid slipping into a diabetic coma and was at risk of death. But then Chinese researchers cured his disease for the first time in the world. The patient received a cell transplant in 2021 and has not taken any medication since 2022.

8. August - Chinese drones will fly trash out of Everest slopes

Come autumn, Nepal will deploy heavy lifter drones to transport garbage from the 6,812-metre tall Ama Dablam, south of Everest. This will be the first commercial work an unmanned aerial vehicle does in Nepal’s high-altitude zone.

9. November - Tokyo to make day care free to boost birth rate

Tokyo plans to make day care free for all preschool children starting in September, the city governor has announced as part of efforts to boost Japan's low birth rate.

10. October - FTC Rule Banning Fake Product Reviews Takes Effect With Stiff Penalties

Federal Trade Commission (FTC) Chair Lina Khan announced on Oct. 21 that the agency’s prohibition on fake online reviews was taking effect, imposing fines as high as $50,000 for violations. Khan encouraged followers to report the proscribed practices at reportfraud.ftc.gov.

11. November - Bumblebee population increases 116 times over in 'remarkable' Scotland rewilding project

The bumblebee population has made an impressive comeback in a developed area by increasing to 116 times what it was two years ago thanks to a nature restoration group.

12. December - Spain to enshrine gay marriage and abortion rights into its constitution so 'they cannot be undone in the future'

The left-wing PSOE leader made the announcement at an event marking the 46th anniversary of the Spanish Magna Carta.

“We believe that these are rights that we must protect in the Constitution so that no one can touch them in the future,” Sanchez said in a statement in parliament on Friday.

----------

That's it for last year :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to share this post with your friends.

#best news of last week #best news of last year

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sweetwolfcupcake · 3 months ago

Note

Can you please write yandere headcanons for John wick x female reader? Thanks 🫶🫶

Sure! Here is what I could come up with. A cliche plot, but discussions with @johnwickb1tsch, and @treedaddypuff inspired this. I hope you like it.

Secret Garden

Category: Headcanons

Yandere John Wick x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning: Sexual themes, predator/prey coded, hints of cannibalism if you squint (not intended, only used as metaphor), NSFW, hints of power imbalance and the general yandere toxicity, the reader is a bit naive, allusions to violence and darker themes

Dividers by @cafekitsune

GIF belongs to the rightful owner, I am simply thankful to be able to use it.

Unedited. Pardon the errors.

In John’s eyes, you are a rabbit. Sniffing about with thumping feet and twitching ears. You are adorable in his eyes. But what do rabbits do when they sense a wolf nearby? Salivating, sharp-toothed creatures with eyes burning through your skin and peering into your very soul?

They run, of course. They run and hide away in their little burrows where no wolf can reach, even if it pleads that its intention was never to eat the rabbit.

In John’s eyes, you are a rabbit, and he knows that if you ever come to know of his true nature, you will run. And even thinking about that fills him with an odd cocktail of fury and arousal.

John knows that he is the worst of them all— the biggest, the baddest, with sharp claws and pointed teeth. If he were, literally, a wolf, he would practically drool at the very sight of you.

So he wraps himself up with a sheep’s skin. Drops his ears, curls his tail and lets his sharp eyes dilate into puppy-softness. He looks inviting, approachable, harmless and gentle. He bends to your level, wipes off the drool around his mouth, hides his tongue and teeth and waits. He waits and moves with an easy steadiness that wouldn’t startle you to alertness but will gently introduce him into your territory.

It does not come as terribly hard or boring, for the most part. John does not intend to sink his teeth into you; after all, he truly means no harm. He has to work on it, yes, but you are worth it; his love for you is worth it.

To his relief, you do not sniff the danger that trails with his shadow, to his utter delight, you welcome him—not immediately, but you warm up to him eventually. The warmth seeps into his form. Maybe deep down, something in you knows that he means no harm?

You are a cautious person. Reserved in nature, the cautious trait has evolved within you with the life-lessons that came along the perks of being a wallflower. You observe, and try to learn. And over the years, you have learnt that precaution is always better than cure. Unless it’s love.

Love is supposed to be a free fall, surrender, and trust. But before that, you get to choose who you let in. That is where the role of caution begins and ends. Deciding whether someone is worth the free-fall after all.

If anything, John Wick has proven to be more than just worth it. He is everything and more. He is kind without noticing, his hands are calloused, but you feel the tenderness with which he holds you. A gentleman. That’s what John is. In more than a few ways.

He is gentle with the way he tries to read you and your perception, like he is admiring and trying to decipher you at the same time. You feel it in his gaze as it runs over your form with the perfect blend of heat and adoration. You feel it in the sincerity of his sweet brown orbs when they look into your eyes.

He is considerate in the way he listens to you—even those drunken rambles—he leans in close and nods and smiles, laughs at your terrible jokes and scoffs when you laugh at yourself. He is considerate in the way he fixes your sink without you even having to say it, or even notice at times. He is considerate in the way he never forgets to restock your favourite seasonal fruits or snacks. He is considerate to keep track of your cycle even without you having to tell him.

John is considerate in many subtle and obvious ways, you often lose count of—because he brings consideration into mundane things, barely noticeable until you take a second look—you see ot then, and it warms your heart in dangerous ways. In ways you are afraid to imagine—like having a ring on your finger.

John is observant too. He notices the smallest of twitches, the slightest of falters and changes and he is grasping it like he has a special training on it or something. You admit that initially, it was unsettling, but you settled eventually. You are now used to him mentioning something you do not even remember telling him. It must have been one of the many unconscious or off-handed comments you make in passing. But nothing escapes John’s notice, you realise. Dog nose. He has a dog nose, but for information.

John makes you feel heard, seen and appreciated. What more can you ask for? What more would you want? What more would anyone want?

John is more than what you could ask for.

And yet, there is something deep inside your brain that holds back from that freefall, the complete surrender. You are in love with John, you do not doubt that because it seeps into your every thought, your every action. Every other thing reminds you of something related to him, or of him. It’s like every road leads you to him. And yet, something in you simply refuses to settle in and be at complete ease.

Not that you are not comfortable with him, he makes sure that you are. But you are a cautious creature by nature. Skittish even at times.

And you feel that tiny part of your brain throbbing, calling your attention when you realise that John listens deeply, for long, but prefers not to speak much. He works in the ‘crisis management’ department of an expansive and looming organisation. And there are various non-disclosure documents he has already signed, so digging for more information is futile. He follows the rules, you realise–with military precision and discipline.

You feel that part of your brain flutter along with your stomach when his reflexes show. The glass of water about to fall and ruin your dress? His hands stop it faster than you can succumb to your fate. Sure, must be a stressful and demanding job, you surmise when he waves his hand and says ‘practice’ with a tone that feels deliberate in its casual approach.

You feel that part of your brain nudging at you when you trace his tattoos. The ink on his skin, mostly his back and the slump of his shoulders. You trace and map them with your fingers and feel the faintest of shivers passing through his body, and then the stiffness when you question. ‘Fortune favours the bold’, the Latin words translate. Something he learnt in his early years and decided to etch on his skin, he tells you. He has a reason and tale for every other tattoo of his– fascination, local band, his birthplace, his childhood. You believe every story behind each of the tattoos, you have no reason not to.

And yet, that tiny, annoying part of your brain is persistent. It points out that his stories are either too vague or too specific. Short and flat. There is no fondness in his tone or eyes, not even close to the kind of tenderness and excitement they have when talking about you and your relationship— his thoughts, his experience involving you. No, these stories sound more or less like reports. That tiny part of your brain keeps telling you that he is holding back.

But it is tiny, hence easier to ignore, especially when his hands are parting your thighs, especially when he looks at you with reverence. There is the kind of vulnerability in his soulful brown eyes that swats away all the wisps of doubts.

And yet you cannot bring yourself to squash that part of your brain. Not when his eyes darken the way that makes him seem like something that sits on the top of the food chain and a part of you wants to run. But you tell yourself it is the light that falls that way, an illusion, a lie.

The mindful part of your brain screams when you play chase with him. It is the loudest then. You feel his feet drumming against the floor, but barely hear him. You run as fast as you can—adrenaline pumping, heart thundering. You know that the fear is never real, just something primal. But it overtakes your senses as you push yourself to outrun him, not with any competitive intent, but with a deep-seated survival instinct that rings abruptly shrill and persistent, telling you to run and hide.

But John is fast, quick and silent on his feet. Quiet and precise to the point it feels dangerous. His grip is iron when he catches you, taking the impact on the ground if you both lose balance, or simply picking you up like he is picking his favourite fruit from the ground—easy, smooth and quick. You feel weightless and powerless at those moments, and that instinct in you screams, makes your legs fail, and your heart drop to your stomach. As if you are being hunted.

But how can it be true? It is just John, smiling, laughing, breathing, mixing with yours when he slants his lips on yours, swallowing every little sound you make. You are safe, you are safe, you are safe. You have to keep reminding yourself for a few moments before the bells stop ringing and the instinct and fear return to their burrows.

But that faint throb in your brain refuses to be silenced. It turns bolder when you look into his dark eyes, when he wrestles you under him. You may laugh playfully, but your stomach flutters with anticipation and a kind of thrill that one gets on dancing with danger. His eyes always appear darker after a chase, like you have struck the right spot and something in him is howling. He looks wild with his tresses over his face and his eyes peering through them—something close, barely hidden, but still out of your reach.

That faint throb in your brain, however, is no match for the fire that ignites in your abdomen when his hands reach all the right places. Sliding between your legs, fingers in your mouth, or around your throat. Just caressing, never pressing, simply testing.

Everything is forgotten with the taste of milk and honey. You can barely remember your name with just his fingers against your walls, slow, deliberate and precise. Curving the right way, at the right place and you have the moon and stars floating before your eyes. You want to remember nothing, you remember nothing but John. Your John, who makes you feel craved and desired. Who is not shy of showing how hungry he is for you. All the time, every time.

Oh, how beautiful bliss is! The sense of surrender when his manhood slides beyond your throbbing, slick nether lips, fitting right in where it belongs. As if something had been taken away from you by the divine and then returned as a reward. As if your years without John had been your penance. You are his and he is yours. In this moment, you feel the ring wrapping around your finger. You feel you need no ring, you have him inside you, fusing into your soul, reaching and discovering the deepest parts of you in ways you could have never imagined before.

But every time you dare to and are compelled to open your droopy eyes, you see a crazed look— a storm being, a darkness that can swallow you whole, and you shiver. You shiver with something unknown. The tiny part of your brain never stopped throbbing, you realise. It is just easier to ignore when you are at the pinnacle of passion.

You often gasp when he dips down at the curve of your neck and his teeth graze against your pumping vein. Your mind is a battlefield there— the urge to surrender and embrace whatever agony he feels to be capable of rewarding you with, fights against that deep-rooted survival instinct that makes you squirm and try to move. It ends with your leg thrown over his shoulder and body bent to an angle that has your vision darkening with each thrust. The most delicious, intense torment, hell and heaven merging, and you tip-toe between salvation and damnation.

Instincts, doubts, caution, everything is overshadowed by his name. John, John, John. It leaves your lips like prayers, but it is you who feels worshipped. A part of your soul feels infected with him, and you will gladly take it. You will take his energy, his deeds, his past, his present, every part of him.

You bloom, only for him, to your fullest, to your widest, to your happiest.

Like the fragrance of a delicate dawn-bloom on the damp soil, he lingers in you long after he has pulled out. He lingers in you in the form of the essence that dribbles down your thighs, he lingers in the form of the musk that surrounds you. He lingers in the form of the comforting numbness that comes when he caresses you like you can break with one wrong press. His lips kiss over every mark, every place you have felt his hold tightening. He lingers with you, holding you, and that is when that tiny, annoying and persistent part of your brain goes completely silent.

You have never felt any safer, no pair of arms has managed to bring you the comfort and elation like John’s do. So you close your eyes and sit with him in the bathtub, imagining that the world is empty and it is just two of you as he tends to you like he is tending to a garden— precise, careful, loving and attentive.

Instincts are always powerful. John has learnt that a long time ago. But for you, he can manage it. As long as he has to wait. At least until he has his ring binding you to him forever. He has donned the sheep skin for so long, it now feels like a second skin. Maybe it has even grown into him— but for you. Only you.

His teeth still glint and his claws remain sharp. But he is patient and loving. He does not give in to his instinct of devouring you whole, even if something in him keeps screaming and demanding to do so. No, he does not want to frighten his little rabbit.

John loves you with every atom of his being, but he cannot deny what that surprised and fearful flash in your sweet eyes does to him. It makes his teeth itch and his claws sharpen.

The chase only makes it worse. When he catches you, his manhood throbs, demanding a reward. You, lying under him has the most primal gears of his brain turning.

John’s instincts demand that he sinks his teeth into you and tear and twist you until he has your soul and devour it. Have the taste of the light he is so undeserving of yet so tempted by.

He has been trained to hunt, and watching at your endearing efforts to outrun him make his limbs move even before he realises it.

But John is not a monster. Not to you, at least. He loves you. So he satisfies himself with only grazing your delicious skin with his teeth, plunging his length as deep as he can into you, hoping to touch every part of you until he has you tained by him and shielded from the world.

John’s instincts demand that he claims you– body, mind, heart and soul. Yes, your soul is what he covets the most. And he knows he is closer when your eyes flutter cloe in momentary surrender.

You fall apart so beautifully for him. Eyes wide with desire with wild mewls and screams. The wolf in him is temporarily sated, to see you so plaint under him, so welcoming, so receptive, so responsive.

He takes pride at the traces of your nails behind his back, your nails, your fingers bruising his biceps and your teeth marking his shoulders.

You do not even bite down, just hold, ground yourself and he lets you. But a part of him wants you to bite down, to scratch harder until he bleeds, dig your nails over those cursed inks and overpower his past deeds with you light, with your love. He wil have something permanent of you on him, something permanent he actually wants.

But alas! You don’t. You hold back, just like the way you hold back from complete surrender that he wants, needs. He cannot have your soul if you do not let yourself go and embrace the free fall. He will catch you, he always will. But his little rabbit is cautious by nature.

He feels it when he looks at you from between your legs. He sees it in your eyes when you sink on your knees for him. He feels it in the tremble of your lips, the movement of your head with his hand siting your hair while your mouth devotes itself to him, taking him deep and good. But it can never match his devotion, not until you surrender to this love like he has.

You hold back, not wanting to hurt him, and it makes John chuckle. Sweet thing, as if you can ever hurt him.

But he is close, he knows he is. He can almost taste it on his tongue, like he tastes you.

Like morning dew on flower petals, your arousal sticks on your nether lips, served for him to lick clean. He can settle for devouring this for now.

You squirm as if you have any chance to run. Escape? From him? It makes him want to throw his head back and laugh, but it so makes something boil in him. So he holds you tighter. If you you can never silence that caution in your brain, he will. He will bend you to silence it, tear it out of you and fill that part of your brain with his name.

That faint throb never goes away. It may be silenced for a while, but it comes back every time. Slow and steady, it climbs to the surface of your brain, the closest it has ever been, when you return to your shared home from work hours earlier one day.

It rings a bell. Faint, when you catch John’s cologne lingering in the air as soon as you unlock the door. But slightly louder when you see the basement door, that is always locked, unlocked for the first time since you moved in with him.

The cautious, alert part of your brain turns bolder and bolder with a strange flutter in your stomach when you descend down the stairs.

The bells ring louder when you see a perfectly clean and secure basement when he has told you that it has some faulty walls and doorways so he had to shut it down permanently.

The bells, though begin to ring shrilly when you find two briefcases laying on the floor and a work table with a vintage phone sitting on it .

When you click open the briefcases, your ears are ringing. The faint voice of caution in your head now screams for you to flee as you look at the various knives, guns and syringes in one briefcase and lines of gold coins on the other.

You move on pure instinct then, following the voice, glad that it never gave up on you, relieved and horrified that it proved to be right. As you climb the stairs, your hands are sweaty, stomach is in knots and your heart paces erratically, as if you have run miles.

But your heart skips a beat and the bells turn into drums that beat at your survival instinct when you see John casually leaning against the kitchen island, on your way. Right on your path, blocking it.

He looks the same but feels foreign. Eyes once so kind are now dark and stormy. You know that you are looking into the eyes of something that is ready to pounce, something that is at the top of the food chain and it knows that.

His eyes move between the basement door wide open and you before his lips curve into something unfamiliar and cruel, like the glint in his eyes.

“Run” John whispers gleefully.

And you do, despite knowing the outcome already, you give into your instinct, just like he does. Finally.

****

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