#his hands should be smaller tho

[gojorgeous]

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!” 

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 

~

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 

“Yeah. Long day at work.” 

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 

“So, what’s your technique” 

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 

“Bet I could find out.” 

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines. 

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 

Your lips part. “You knew?” 

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 

But you have one thing on him. 

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 

You freeze. He notices. 

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

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[dreorig]

Oh wow, you just happen to be taller and broader than your mercenary boyfriend!

[ deadpool x dom male reader | nsfw under the cut | had this sitting in my drafts for a while now so uhhh forgive any mistakes :P ]

First things first. He thinks that's so hot of you.

He brags about you to everyone. Everyone. Random people, someone's he's fighting with, a friend; they all will hear about how handsome and tall Wade's boyfriend is.

Wade gets heart eyes when you both are in public and you hold his waist or hug him from behind. A subtle possessive squeeze on him will also do the job.

Wade will steal your clothes. He is 6'2, do you seriously think he'd ever have another chance to feel smaller in someone else's clothes anytime soon? Yeah, he's not losing this chance.

How many times can he ask to arm wrestle with you until you threaten to cut his vocal chords?

"So we can't get to decide what we're getting for dinner and we both want different things..." "Wade—" "There's only one way to solve this situation..." "Wade. No." "ARM WRESTLING!" "NO."

You will give him piggy backs and carry him around in bridal style either you like it or not. It's a demand.

He jumps at you randomly. First time he did that he jumped from behind, but you didn't know that was him, so your instincts made you grab that apparently stranger and throw him across the room, making him hit a wall. Wade fell even more for you right then and there.

Wade was mesmerised. You desperate; so you ran towards him, already chanting an infinite amount of sorry's. "Shit. Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to—" your apology was interrupted by the sound of Wade's laugh, which took you aback a little. Wade jumped to his feet and into your arms, this time you caught him properly. He wrapped his legs around your waist and arms around your neck, his chest still trembling with laughter. "Do you know how unbelievably hot that was? Never stop manhandling me."

Wade can reach the top shelves just fine but will ask you to grab the things instead. He just wants to enjoy his tall dog privilege.

He will always go to the gym with you if he's not busy re-killing former US presidents, slaughtering some asshole or pestering Logan. Hell, Wade loves to see your muscles flexing and your sweaty self after a good workout.

Asking you to pick him up (like this) became a part of your workout routine. He giggles and melts in your hold because he loves the fact that you pick him off the ground so effortlessly, like he's a piece of paper.

Fuck him doggy style and slap his ass with your big hands and you'll hear the loudest moan ever.

So loud you'll probably need to slip a few fingers inside his mouth to keep him shut. You don't need any neighbours hearing what's yours only.

You know what they say about big hands, eh? Wade knows it better than anyone and God, he loves the way you stretch him. Naturally he's got a high pain tolerance, so you being big and making him see things without having to use a toy is just perfect.

Doesn't mean you never use toys, tho. Fuck Wade's face and make him gag on your big cock while he has a dildo deep inside him, he'll give you the biggest puppy eyes ever as he humps on your leg.

You reminding him of your size difference never fails to make him wet. Never fucking fails. Tell him he should stand in front of you to get a better view since you're taller and he won't hide the fact that his underwear is already stained with pre-cum.

No marks such as love bites will stay on Wade's body due to his healing factor, much to his and your dislike, but eventually you found a way to claim him as yours — he's got to wear one of your shirts while you so relentlessly fuck him and even after you're done. Your scent and sweat that lingers on the fabric make Wade's head spin, often leading him to beg for you to fuck him once again.

Plus wearing your clothes just feels right. The way they're always oversized on him serves to remind him of how much bigger you are. He's got a size kink, he can't help it.

"Aren't you my little bitch?" you increased your pace. "Fuck, yes, yes," he pushed his hips down, meeting your thrusts. "Did I fuck you dumb? Use your damn words," you growled in his ear. Wade's cock throbbed at that. He was indeed beginning to think you fucked him dumb, yet he replied, "Arghh— yes, shit, yes, I'm your little bitch~" "Yeah, that's right. Let me show you how a real man treats a little bitch like you," you slapped his ass so hard even your own hand burned a little. Wade came right away without even having to touch his cock this time. How many times was it now? Not that he cared, he just wanted more, more, more. You chuckled, pleased with your own work. "Look at what a slap can do to a little bitch in heat." Wade wasn't sure of what you really said, but his ears caught "little bitch in heat" and he smiled dumb, more than happy to know he was your little bitch in heat.

[urfavlarry]

I recently got into School bus graveyard and I COMPLETELY understand the hype, idk if im the only who does this... but literally the moment I was done I went to tumblr for fics, but there's like none?? So maybe some dating headcanons for the group!! ^^

Dating Headcanons for the sbg characters

Ashlyn Banner

best person to have a lazy day with tbh

i swear yall would be like “should we go out today” look at each other for 5 seconds and say “nah”

she would teach you some gymnastics and laugh when your just lying there complaining how you aren’t flexible

probably is more of a person that gives you gifts, or gives you a hug in stead of comforting you with words

she would be a bit awkward at first probably

also I don’t think she likes excessive physical touch cuz red confirmed that Ashlyn is autistic but when she gets used to you she would be okay with it but still, don’t go too hard on her

you let her play/stim with your fingers

you’re always there for her when she gets overwhelmed and she loves you so much for that

doesn’t call you that many nicknames probably a short version of your name but if your name is already short then probably just love or babe

if you speak another language she would definitely wanna know some words or learn with you

if it’s your mother language then she would be like “omg how was [your country] like!”

probably is a nerd in some sort of way

anyway probably a great girlfriend to have but only if you aren’t the type to be really really and I mean REALLY extroverted

Taylor Hernández

this girl is such a cutie!!

would plan dates, sleepovers, night outs..

drawing/picnic dates are a must

watching the sunset or sunrise together on the rooftop

calls you cute nicknames like sunshine, mi vida, sugar and that kind of stuff

is very affectionate

cuddles !!

shes the little spoon probably but if you’re feeling down then she will gladly be the big spoon

you would definitely braid her hair if you know how, if you don’t know then there’s another idea for a date! teaching you how to braid hair!

probably isn’t even that awkward at first probably a little bit shy but gets pretty confident later on

the best partner to have if you’re insecure

makes your insecurities disappear in a heartbeat

overall a 11/10 girlfriend !! we love taylor :D

Tyler Hernández

he is probably a tsundere tbh

acting like he doesn’t care but when you are alone he babies you sm

no matter if your bigger then him, stronger, smaller, it doesn’t matter, he babies you no matter what

don’t let the others know tho

isn’t afraid to show you off like girl bffr

holds your hand, has his hand on your waist, kisses you on the forehead, cheek or lips before class starts (even if you are in the same class)

uses nicknames like mi amor, mi reina/mi rey, baby ect.

nicknames with him are endless

movie night is a must

probably would take you to his baseball practice

has a separate album for you only

everyone in the group can tell he’s love sick like he looks at you with heart eyes

a jealous type probably

would beat up anyone and everyone who looks at you the wrong way

he’s probably touch starved and he hides his feelings from you because he just prioritises you over anything

you gotta full on force him to tell you what’s wrong but after a while he opens up to you normally

a 100/10 boyfriend the poor boys been through too much

Logan Fields

gardening dates!!

gives you flowers when you’re sad or just whenever to make your day!

stargazing dates

yapps your ear off about astrology (you let him tho)

calls you nicknames like bunny, hun, love

gives you honest opinions on everything

regrets his choices when you get grumpy afterwards

makes it up to you by cuddling you or kissing your whole face

introduces you to his grandparents

they approved of course because they just trust that he can pick himself a good s/o

hugs from behind!!

reads you a book when you can’t sleep

helps you with your work but doesn’t do it for you (Barron trauma)

best person to seek when you want comfort and or advice

gives you honest advice so if you were in the wrong expect him to tell you lmao

if you listen to music on vinyls or CDs then definitely brings you to a music shop and he will spoil you rotten

loves listening to your music taste no matter what genre it is he just wants to bond with you

he’s such an adorable and amazing boyfriend it mealts my heart !! :D

Aiden Clark

be prepared to patch this boy up every single second of the day

and also getting him out of trouble every single day

he is a wild one for sure

doesn’t mean he’s a bad boyfriend

loves showing you things he learned on his skateboard and he tries to teach you

does that thing where he holds your hands while your on the skateboard, tells you to jump and flips the board for you

that tik tok kind of shi

while on the topic of tik tok, does every silly couple tik tok trend with you lmao

yapps your ear of all day every day

not the best person to ask for advice from but he will hold you until you feel better!

best cuddle buddy

and hug buddy

if you don’t like physical touch then idk if you could have a relationship with him, he will CLING to you as if his life depended on it

loves it when you play with his hair

makes a playlist for you two

calls you nicknames like rockstar, doll, my love, bae, babe

definitely has you saved as “future wife🤭❤️” or “the mother of my kids🥵😍”

he be weird like that

loves to have you in his lap

idk he probably likes you ass sm, not in a sexual way but just lays on it, smacks it, squishes it..

only in private tho

honestly a pretty good boyfriend but he’s more of like your child then boyfriend

Ben Clark

a chill one for sure

hugs, holding hands are a must

listening to music through his headphones how he did with Taylor in that one episode

jealousy scale is um pretty high

you gotta reassure this boy because he’s just scared of loosing you

would fr fight 100 people at once for you if you asked him to

whenever he gets angry, you’re there for him when Aiden can’t and he appreciates that

loves it when you hold his hand and rub circles on the back of it

forehead kisses >>

probably doesn’t give you that many nicknames since he doesn’t speak, either a short version of your name, bae or hun

the best listener ever (not because he doesn’t speak)

when you start to yap and just talk about the most random things he has your back against his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder

very chill and overall good boyfriend

[honestsycrets]

dedication | young!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | young geneticist!miguel o'hara x scientist!reader

❛ type | oneshot, explicit.

❛ summary | alchemax is a dangerous place to work. miguel's new assistant may be over her head. maybe he can help her, though.

❛ tags | virgin reader, f!reader, shitty science, plot heavy, loose canon references, literary liberties, loss of virginity, overprotective Miguel o'hara, jealous miguel o'hara, some objectification, workplace politics, aftercare (as requested), corruption (is it tho?), bc what bc, Spanish is not translated, young!miguel, heel-foot fetish, somewhat romantic.

❛ fulfilled request | can we please have a miguel x virgin reader and he didn’t even know until he was already putting it in?? And then voila his corruption kink unexpectedly growS? @a--dedicated--fangirl

❛ sy’s notes | miguel sort of works on that whole corruption aspect throughout this fic, but i wanted to meld these two ideas together to create a reader who is entirely dedicated to Miguel. This piece was a bit long for me.

“Miguel, your new assistant is here.” 

On paper, you’re an excellent candidate for the genetics program. 

An excellent GPA, renowned company internships, decent publications, and a diverse upbringing. It was all good. Great, even. But as the head of the genetics program at Alchemax, he has a little thing called priorities. Interviewing everyone himself was low on the rung of shit he felt like he should be doing. There was, however, one little, itty bitty, tiny problem with bringing you on board.

“Dr. O’Hara? ¿Estas bien?”

That shirt-- is not meant to hold those-- His brain was left field, glimpsing at them. A slightly sheer button-up revealed the outline of your bustier and its inability to conceal your body. They should have been illegal. He was pretty sure they were illicit in the handbook on his table. He should really read that again. Maybe then he wouldn’t be salivating over something as simple as a co-worker-- He needed to get out of the lab. The bleached walls tightened around him, the space smaller than he remembered. He was going to get caught.

Realistically, the lab was full of witty people. Many of them were witty men with subpar looks and stupider dicks. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. Not only because your lips were plump, painted petal-pink, and kissable or because the depth of your sultry eyes went straight in the dick. No, but because that would be improper of a man of his stature to tell one of the only women in his care that she was too gorgeous for the job you were clearly qualified for. 

“Sí, coño,” He fixed his glasses, crooked on his broad nose. He stood up from his desk and grabbed his lab coat, swirling it around his broad shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, you tracked the movement with your eyes. “Do you want a cafecito? Miss…”

You told him your name. He mulled it over on his tongue, lathing it in a gentle acknowledgment. Cemented it in a place he wouldn't forget. You tinked your head to the side, your lashes fluttering when he cleared his throat. Great, just shocking-- 

“After you,” he headed for the door. He held it open for you, plastering his back to the wood. It didn't matter. You slid by closer than he’d prefer, your hand catching on his belt buckle with muttered apologies. This wasn’t going to end well. 

Cafecito is an excellent excuse to pull his dumbass together. 

It also calms his nerves, centers his mind, and allows him to compartmentalize. Whether or not you could hold your own wasn’t his issue, his issue was the necessity of someone he could trust. Ugly, beautiful-- so long as they were efficient, Miguel would make due. The cafeteria was a large and clean space. The many tables were crowded with wrap-around stations for poorly crafted, misery-inducing meals. Miguel paid and took a seat at a creaky table. One where he could see the door open, shut, and keep an eye on the comings and goings of meager scientists and annoying managers. 

“You’ll be working with me.” 

You pursed your lips around the warm cup of coffee, taking a ginger sip. He noted your lipstick stain that remained as you pushed the cup toward the middle of the table you shared with him. This damn suit vest was stifling. He gave you a long, slow look, tilting his head to the fact that you’d not drunk anything. It’d be rude to acknowledge.

“Delgado told me,” you smiled warmly. “He said you’re a genius. I don’t know that I believe in geniuses.” 

Hmph. Delgado, things fell into place. That sycophant knew what he liked. He also knew that Miguel was better than him, always was, and always would be. Miguel offered you a slick smile, convinced he could assure you otherwise if he needed to. “Delgado says a lot of things. I’m surprised he gave you to me.”

“Why is that, O’Hara?” the way his name slipped off your tongue was a hot sin. If only he believed in a god. His eyelids shifted over his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark.

“You’re beautiful. He likes to collect beautiful things,” Miguel tried, curious.  Your nails clicked in succession over the table. A repetitive click, click, click. He would be annoyed too if he were no more than a ploy. A distraction. Miguel wasn’t sure that it wasn’t working. His eyes flickered down, catching one of your palms curling into a tight fist, tension rolling through your fingers and up your arms. “He knows I do too.” 

You leaned in, close enough that he could spot the unique freckles spread out in a crescent moon beneath a layer of makeup on your face. Beautiful. “I’m not here to belong to you, O’Hara. I hope you know that.” 

He was off to a great, fantastic start.

 “Understood.” Miguel leaned back in his chair, a smirk creeping up his lips. Or, believe that you believed that. You spared him any more mincing comments. Appeased by his suggestion, you brought your drink back to your lips.

“Good. What are we sequencing?” 

“Me.” 

You swallowed. “You? You can’t be--” 

Mhm, he stared, lips pressed tightly together. “You’ll code my DNA. Then we’ll splice it.” 

"With what?"

"You'll see."

“Is this your little,” you swirled your finger in a circle. “Pet project?” 

Unfortunately not, he would have liked to say. That information was confidential, and though you worked on the project, there were levels to his willingness to involve you in the delicate flow of workplace politics. Still, you might make a healthy distraction from his work. Miguel took a swig of his cafecito, boring into the black substance.

“Something like that.” 

Having a pretty assistant means things don’t always get done according to schedule. Not quickly enough, not by far. There is a time limit to everything at Alchemax. The quicker, the better. Thus this project demanded more hours of his time. The project was spliced between the work required of him by superiors and you, your quirks, and your preferences. 

Miguel has learned a great many things about you in a short amount of time. You don’t appreciate misplaced pet names. You actually can’t handle coffee because of the caffeine or the sugar. He also learns things about himself. How little he likes when Delgado comes to check on progress because he isn’t actually checking on shit. He's checking you out. 

He likes to weasel his nasty fingers around the door, peering in to try and find out what specimen he’s actually working on. Miguel was much too smart for that. His beady eyes caught Miguel over your shoulder, mumbling up to him about a new finding in tests you ran earlier that day. Your face mask twirled around your index finger, finally free and at a documentation workspace.   Funny, because he clearly redacts information from your well-recorded notes on the daily. You refuse to include less.

“Hey Mike,” he said. “How are things… Oh hey, you. You settling in, honey? Mike treating you ok? I can discipline him for you.”

“As if you could,” Miguel huffed. 

But Delgado spying on you, the way you record progress by pouting out your lips, shifting between paper and your lab reports, was intolerable. Because... well, he has sensitive information on there. Your nose scrunches in distaste, but you bow your head just slightly as a hello. He might be his supervisor, but Miguel doesn’t need one to know why this asshole is in his lab turning his smarmy brown eyes over the way you sit: one leg over the other. You seem to realize it too, trailing your eyes over his gaudy suit to Miguel’s sinewy hand on your shoulder. 

“Stop being a creep,” Miguel complained, “She has actual work to do.”

“Actual work? As opposed to--“

“Yes, what you do.” Miguel spat out. You eschewed a giggle, turning your face over a pristine white lab jacket that thankfully, you had no qualms in wearing. Otherwise, he might not finish any work in the lab at all. 

“I supervise--

“You’re still talking but we’re not listening,” Miguel waved him off, plucking up papers by your side. Your eyes snap up to Miguel’s deep chocolate eyes hidden behind the thin frame of his metal glasses, waiting for a proper response. “Goodbye, Aaron.”

Miguel walks to the door, locks it with a click, and returns to your side. You glance at his white lab coat, fluttering around his tapered waist. He loves the way your eyes look at him with a soft, inviting expression, beseeching him to come to sit by your side as he always did. “Not a fan of Delgado, I take it.” 

“Are you?” Miguel sits with his legs spread, his fingers threading through his thick brown hair. You set your papers down, swiveled toward him. The wheels of your rolling chair squeak on either side of his thick, black boots. His eye catches your thick thighs, squashed between your midi skirt, its atrocious slip causing him discomfort. His hand leaves his thick hair, dropping in unison side by side. 

“I can’t stand being called honey, Mike.” 

“Shut up.”

The days proceed similarly. Days filled with brushing past him as he slides in samples and reagents. He might lose a sample, clattering on the floor, and you always rush to help him clean up. Lunch together, because no matter how late he eats, you’re there beside him. Then as night falls, you stay until he has finished whatever he needs to do.

“Time to eat something,” you slipped into his office. The clock ticked past midnight. Miguel flicked through handwritten pages of information that did not need to be recorded in computer files. You watched his eyes scan over the ink on the page, acknowledging you with a grumpy grunt. Not now, not when he was so close to finishing the last section of the project.

“Empanada,” you turned his palm over, placing the flaky pastry in his hand. Caramelized apple. He loved a good apple empanada. He watched as you walked over to the coffee maker, drawing him a warm cafecito just how he liked it. Miguel dropped his pen, stretching out his aching spine. 

“Gracias. From where?” 

“I made them,” you set down the cup a little harder than intended. The surface rippled, throwing hot coffee drips onto his pages. His eyes flickered up from the pages to your eyes. Without thinking, he blathers:

“That so?” A pause. “Don’t you have a man?” 

“Miguel. With this sequencing project, you’re the only man in my life. Shut up and eat the empanada.” 

“Huh. Good. I like that.” He swallowed the empanada with a bob of his head, his tongue lathing over his teeth for any more of the sweet sugar. He stood up, finding your expression soft, drawn out by a sense of longing that he couldn’t imagine he saw.  

“You like my sad love life?” 

Yes.

“No, we have a company event. A ball,” Miguel chided, his tone gentling as he slipped away from his desk, abandoning his steamy coffee on his desk. He backed out of the doorway, “It’s all Stone’s politics. You know how these things are. I have to go. Come with me.” 

“Is that a request or an order?” 

“A date.” 

I’d love to. Your words were the only thing that made tonight bearable. Slinking his tanned skin into a dark blue suit that cinched everything too tight was… unbearable. It clung to his skin like a second skin and choked off his air. But it might be worth it to see your face-- just maybe. He tracked the fluttering tails of fish behind bulletproof glass, following them as they fluttered away into their rock. He wished he could too. 

“Miguel?” 

“You’re here,” he turned around, dropping the champagne he idly held in his hand. It went forgotten by his boot as you called his name again. His gaze fixed on yours, the slinky navy blue dress caused his heart to thrum through his chest, chasing the sight of your body at his feet, picking shards of glass up with the aid of a worker, apologizing profusely for the mess. A soft puff of breath slipped from his lips as you stood back up, gripping your purse a little harder in your hands. He ran his hand over his jaw, drawing himself back to his senses.

“Miggy,” he husked out. “Call me Miggy.” 

“You look handsome, Miggy,” his name felt unreal on your lips until he felt the pressure on his elbow. Your soft hands slunk around his, cradling him for some security in the face of the large doors. He shook himself back to his senses. Right, there was a reason he was here. “But shouldn’t we go?” 

He should have-- but did he want to? No, not really. He didn’t want to see Stone’s greasy face, let Aaron take a peek at how you looked dolled up, or any of the rest of these fuckers. What he wanted was something else entirely. 

“Listen.” Miguel stopped, his other hand coming to the jeweled bracelet on your wrist. The doors to the ballroom lapsed, groups of older men filtering in and out with their pieces of the night: doting wives, longing husbands, and partners that their wives or husbands probably didn’t know about. “Don’t wander off from me. They’re all snakes. All of them.” 

“Even you?” 

“Hermosa,” you didn’t leer at him. “I’m the least of your worries.” 

He wasn’t wrong. The ballroom was dolled up in lush fabrics, fine china, and a copious amount of food as it was every year. Miguel found the attempt to distract from what really went on behind closed doors at Alchemax a bit cloying. This year the music was at least tolerable. It filtered out into the ballroom in a syrupy melodies driven on by the soft, promises of rich men for the exchange of sex. For much of the night, he could stomach the various men poking and prodding at him about his impending research. So long as you were here.

“Miggy,” you breathed, a hot puff of air against his ear. He leaned down, his hand atop of yours. “Will you dance with me?” 

Dance? Miguel had two left feet-- it’s why he was a geneticist. For all the work you did on his behalf in the lab, including this very night, he owed you the benefit of whatever you wanted. He searched out a quiet area, one where the only disruption could be the stream of moonlight in through a window. You preferred it over the wall of vivacious men and over-powdered women. He preferred it over the atrocity of his footwork.

“It’s not much of a date,” Miguel’s hand slid around yours. He encompassed your small palm with his large hand, the other gliding across the soft, exposed skin of your back. You swayed with him, side to side. He was an awful dancer, but there was something endearing about that. He saw it in your eyes, the glimmer of curiosity, gliding your dark heels against the inside of his foot. Damn, he still sucked.

“No,” you agreed, shifting to take the lead. He followed your steps. Right, back, left, up. Maybe he stepped on your long dress once or twice, too. Shock, he cursed again, stepping over your foot.

“You’re remarkably bad at this.” You settled your head on his chest, letting your box steps fade into little more than the shifting of your hips. 

“I know. Let’s just-- sway?” 

“Swaying is good.”  

“O’Hara,” boomed Stone. But of course— peace couldn’t last forever. Like a bullet through the chest, a voice caused him to turn in startle. His tan cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling cut off from the cover of others. He was dressed in the most gaudy of clothes that almost seemed to match the crooked expression on his pale face. No matter how many times he tried to fix it, it always looked… wrong. 

Stone’s hands came together, clapping multiple times to force the crowd of politicians, scientists, and bought-in participants to fade away. His voice caused Miguel to growl, a low rumbly noise that you soothed with your breasts pushing gingerly against his arm. He could do it. He could handle this pompous little shit-- “And who is this beauty? A new girlfriend, perhaps? Fiance? O’Hara could do with a wife. Settle him down, y’know.”

Miguel huffed out of his nostrils. “This is my lab partner,” he cleared his throat, leaning forward. “For… the project.”

“Her? A lab partner? Ha!” 

Shock. He didn’t have to look at you to know you were insulted. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing out the tension as you smiled through the interaction, taking over for Miguel. “We have measurable results.” 

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet thing. Now, Miguel, Aaron has found a test subject…”

“I’ll interview them.” 

“No need! I--” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone. I’ll let you two talk,” you slipped away, your heels clicking off into the busy crowd. Stone was talking. Miguel knew he should listen closely. His half-formed plan to see what the future held for his research was wafting into the air, wisps of it in his ear. Tomorrow-- test-- can you? Panic blinded his senses. He could find you nowhere in the room, and even if he did, would he be too late? 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, it’s… excuse me.” 

The issue with falling for someone was the scythe of his fear. His position was inherently risky. No matter how many groups of people he cut through trying to find you, you weren’t there. No tiny little appetizers of shrimp on half a skewer. No booze, because your head would swim. Not near the bathrooms, either. He rushed down the steps when he found you, just before the large iron gates, staring up at the stars peppering the sky. 

At your feet, Aaron. His drunken fingers trying and failing to guide the strap off of your ankle. You, of course, sat there staring dumbly down at his failed attempts to do something as simple as fix your damn heel.

“I’ll take it from here.” Miguel booted Aaron out of the way. Who, with his sloppy sloshed curses, tried to win a fight with him. He eventually won out. Aaron slunk away, somewhere up the steps. Miguel wasn’t counting. “You didn’t listen.” 

“Hm?” 

Miguel loosened both straps, sliding his open palm under your foot for one then the other. You gazed at him, sliding the black heels off your feet, tutting his tongue at the blistered back of your feet. 

“I told you not to wander off.” 

“I just wanted to see the stars. Besides, it was just Aaron.” 

“It’s never just Aaron. It’s Aaron and Stone.” Miguel’s eyebrows pushed against one another, recording your failure to listen. You crossed one leg over the other, sliding your toes over his silk tie, kept beneath a vest. He knelt before you, searching your eyes for the right answer. “You don’t know… what you’re getting into. I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

 “I don’t need you to. I can take care of myself, Miguel. Please don’t--” you sighed. “Don’t be like them.” 

He knew what you meant. Like Aaron, peeling off your shoes at the sign of discomfort because you were a pretty woman. Or Stone, who couldn’t comprehend your value as a scientist. Those who doubted you because of your color, gender, or a mixture of the two. His mouth twisted in frustration. He was in deep. Whatever you desired, he wanted to give. It came at a price.

“Are you mine,” the words came out stiff, “or theirs?” 

“Miggy,” you turned the word over on your tongue, willing him to stand down. His dark eyes settled on yours, unmoving. “Why do I have to pick?” 

“You can’t have both. You’ll have to choose. One day.” 

Your mind worked. He knew from the way you pursed your lip out, then in, puncturing its pillowy surface with your teeth. You shifted your gaze to the water, the stream coursing down the unfeeling stone. Miguel's fingers ran across your inner thigh, causing you to gaze down at him. The steps of others on the other side of the fountain, fading into the depths of the night caused you to break his gaze. Miguel offered you his hand, fitting the shoes under his other arm as he walked toward the valet. You took his hand and interlaced your fingers.

“Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” you said, though the words felt thready and thin, nary a whisper. Something in the undercurrent of your voice concerned him. A thread that needed to be snipped, convinced of the vileness of the city-- of who you worked for. 

He doesn’t make mistakes. 

But he left the project code on his desk. It should have been there, yet, the corpse of a decrepit, awful creature withered on the lab floor proved otherwise. Someone had taken it because he was distracted. As a result, someone lost their life... even if it was Stone's doing.

Now, scouring through his papers, his hands tremored like a common drug addict. He supposed he was one, a druggie, tremoring like a shot hungry, Rapture crazed-- 

“Miggy?” 

He snapped around. His gaze melded your figure into one beautiful blurb, even with the glasses on his broad nose. It was your voice, coded in something close to concern. Miguel ran his hands through his hair, long strands falling messily over his eyes and cheekbones. He flattened his hands out atop his head.

“What are you looking for?” 

“The notes,” he weathered a breath. He doddered about the room, throwing a stack of paper onto the floor. They crumpled over the floor, mixed projects, notes on the specimen, but none were his. “Where are my notes?” 

“You’re sick,” your voice broke gently, as if speaking them alone helped. A horrid crack of laughter slipped from his throat, drawing into a long lament as he repeated the words after you. Sick, you said, he was sick. If being sick was the least of his issues, he would have been a happy man. Your steps rang into his ear, heavier than before, painful and loud. He crumpled onto the couch in his office, his hands cupping them. Your soft hands coursed over his chest, unbuttoning his starched button-up and sliding it down his muscular upper arms. “This might hurt.” 

No kidding, needles always hurt. But the instantaneous relief that flooded his system overrode the momentary pain. As your fuzzy figure came into focus, he recognized the drug that you set aside. 

“You didn’t--” 

“You were right, Miggy, about the-- Mr. Sims.”  Miguel gazed at you, leafing through novels of notes with trembling hands. He cursed himself for subjecting you to seeing that. Not quite human, not quite... The twisted look on the poor man’s face. What months of research with one another had offered. He would fix it. He knew the research was on point. It was the application that was lacking.

“I have a copy of your notes,” you murmured as if someone could hear. They likely could. “¿Ay, puñeta, dónde está? Ah! Here, here it is. Your… profile.” 

“You kept it,” he glanced down at the hastily scribbled note attached to the clip. ‘Miguel’s profile’ alongside a soft pink heart. He stopped your hands from thumbing through another leaflet. His eyes traced the dry ink of the heart. His thumb moved to stroke it, catching the sight of bubbling tears welling over in your eyes out of the corner of his eye. The tears slid down your full cheeks, triggering his discomfort to well up in his stomach. Miguel shifted closer, flicking fat droplets off your slight jaw.

“Hermosa,” Miguel shifted his head, cocking his eyebrow. “¿Que te pasa?”

“I should have listened to you Miggy,” you began, inhaling air forcefully through your nostrils. Breathe, you murmured. Miguel's soft hand cupped the back of your neck like a collar. You were happy to be collared by his hand, it felt safe. 

His eyes narrowed, thumb caressing the loose strands of hair at your nape. “You should have. You know I'll take care of you."

You nodded.

"You have to be fully dedicated to me.” 

“I am.” 

“Show me.” You fluttered your eyes, the gears of your mind working to understand what he meant. His hand fell away to trace the bow of your black blouse. He tugged on the knot, slipping the bow loose and running his fingers over your exposed cleavage below. “Take off the blouse.” 

Was it necessary? Some might have said no-- but sex, in its connective nature-- was the ultimate dedication. At the end of it all, that's what he craved: your eyes, your actions, all born with him in mind. With trembling fingers, you untucked your shirt from your black slacks. Miguel sat back, tracking the soft lace of your balconette bra teasing his eye. You loitered for a minute too long, enough for him to lift his thick eyebrow.

“Don’t stop now,” he said. Your knees knocked together, slipping the shirt over and off your torso before draping it on the arm of his couch. Your bra followed quickly after, slipping out of the twisted straps. You skimmed your hands over your breasts, holding them for comfort.

"No." Miguel flicked his fingers, motioning for your hands to move from your thick nipples.  You pushed your breasts together, allowing him to marvel at them a second longer. “Que maravilla... You have no idea how long I’ve waited. Go on, take off the rest now.” 

You suckled in breath, sliding the button of your pants loose. Then the zipper, its cloth scratching your thighs on its way to pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, joining them too with your shirt. Miguel sat up, running his calloused fingers over the side of your hip and waist. His thumbs hooked in your panties, drawing them down over your pussy, a moist spot on your panties connecting a small string of wetness to your pussy. His palm slid between your thighs, pinned by your thighs pressed together, whether out of an innate need for more pressure or shyness to show him how wet you were. Hm. Miguel melded your ass, striking your skin with his large palm, it jiggled.

“Miggy,” you breathed, shy and intimidated. “I have to tell you something…” 

“Lay down,” he told you. 

“But Miggy, what if someone…” Your eyes darted away from his, chewing on his cheek as you slid back down beside him. You settled on the couch, your legs thrown over his thighs. The couch was stiff, hard against your neck. You stole a haughty glimpse at his face, focused entirely on coursing his palms over your calves and thighs, then back down to your slight toes. He ground your feet over his stiff cock, obscured by the fabric of his slacks. He felt big-- bigger than you could have imagined from the look on your face. 

“¡Basta!” Miguel growled, “No one is going to come in. Let me see you.” 

You flushed. 

“You want me to…” you glanced down, your curls were soft to the touch. 

“Touch yourself for me.” 

With your heart strumming in your chest, you shifted your hand down, spreading your lips, soft and wet. You were so wonderfully shy to follow his orders, the pads of your fingers rubbing along your outer lips, massaging them warm and swollen. You buried your eyes into your other arm, dragging up and down, over and over. A delightful sigh greeted his ear, ensuring that though you were too embarrassed to look at him, you loved it. He allowed it for now-- because he was a gracious, forgiving man. 

“Shock,” Miguel shuffled at the button and zipper of his pants, freeing himself from his slacks. He spat into his palm, stroking over his fleshy length, squishing his cock against your foot. Your toes curled over his cockhead, engrossed in Miguel’s rumbling pants, the soft pleasure that bloomed from his chest. Your eyes trained on his lips, the slight breath suckled between his teeth. Your fingers glazed over your stiff clit, pausing as though you needed his permission, just how he wanted it. Your sweet submission. 

His eyebrow perked. “You can touch it.” 

“Oh,” you glanced down, tracing the way Miguel fisted himself, swirling up to his cockhead, along fat veins and the bubble of salty fluid on his tip. His permission seemed to spur something else in you, flicking your swollen clit to the sound of his pleasured growling, your own pleasure growing in tandem with his. 

“¡Ya!” he annunciated, watching as you failed to stop. All at once he stopped his ministrations. A sigh escaped his chest as he pushed himself up, smacking your hand away from your puffy cunt. His cock bobbed between your bodies. You wanted to touch it, but couldn’t.

"Wait," you cried out. His cock twitched as he lowered his hips down, drawing sweet lubricant on his cock, stroking your pussy. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a warm kiss. He dipped his hand down, his cockhead prodding and poking, dipping lower with the aid of his hand. 

“MiggyI’mavirgin,” you said all at once, his cockhead nudged against your entrance. Miguel’s head about snapped as he looked up, eyes popped wide open in disbelief. Before he could quite form a coherent thought, your hands shot out to grip his suit vest, stopping him where he was.

“¿Qué dejiste? Say that again?” 

“I haven’t… I haven't had sex,” you murmured. He hadn’t put it together. Your shyness, the awkward way you shuffled around, loosening your bra and hiding your perfect breasts from his eyes. The words were finally out in the open but didn't register.

"A..." Miguel fisted his cock, once, then twice, shifting back to kneel before you. Your eyes fell on his muscular thighs, the way his hand fisted his dick. “You’re a virgin?”

“I’m too old for this,” you mumbled, hiding your eyes with your palms. Miguel shifted to cast aside your hands from your eyes, his muscular body caging you underneath, looking for an explanation. “I just. Between school, work, I never had time.” 

Not that he was complaining.

"No boyfriend?"

You shook your head. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only were you gorgeous, but you were untouched. His, completely and fully. He liked it better that way-- to be the first memory smeared in your head. So that when you looked back on this moment, right now, it would forever be marked by his face.

"It's mine," he blurted out all at once. "I want your first to be mine."

His hand dropped down to your cunt. The pad of his middle finger worked at your entrance as though he were exploring the truth of your statement, stretching you with the aid of his fingers. You were tight, it had to be true.

You nodded, face buried deep in your arm. It didn’t take but moments for him to draw his hand back, suckling the lubricant from his fingertips. You distantly registered his words, “Damn it, you... you don't know what you do to me.” 

Before you could say a word more, Miguel positioned the head of his dick against your slippery virgin hole. You clenched, glancing down between your bodies again, as you had a dozen times, anxiously waiting. Miguel hushed you, the repetitive shushing of his lips soothing you into complacency, forcing your muscles to relax. “It might hurt. But the pain won’t last,” he assured you.

He rolled his hips forward. His sharp exhale shook with every centimeter that gave way. Your walls were forced apart, suffocating you on the shock of adjusting to having someone, no not someone, Miguel-- your Miguel, sinking into your tense body. He throbbed, twitching in your body. His hands fisted in the aged couch, catching the breath in his chest. 

“Ay, Miggy,” your nails dug into his shirt, loose around his firm muscles. “Miggy, no puedo,” 

“You can, you’re so good, eres tan buena,” Miguel swept your lips between his, taking the moment of your surprise to bury himself further, swallowed by your cunt that resisted his intrusion. Your lips fluttered in the kiss, keened out a cry. The pain of his dick, forcing its way through your passage is quelled by the knowledge that he’s here, with you, his girth forcing you apart, stretching you apart, seating himself flush against your womb. His voice was caramelized, sugared over, and so good. “Look at how well you’re taking me already.” 

“Coño, that’s a tight pussy,” He slid his hips back, the warm sensation of his withdrawal pulling free before shoving back in, a cry shoving forth from your lips, filling his office and the connected lab with your cries. He might have heard someone draw the door open, his hips driving back in, centered on the magnificent groans that stuttered free from your chest with Miguel’s careful thrusts. You keened his name, a repetitious Miggy, Miggy, Miggy-- it was Aaron, probably. He recognized the way his feet drug on the floor. 

He hoped he didn’t just hear it. He hoped he saw it too, the way his balls slapped against your ass, the mess of blood soaking the already unhygienic couch, the way his cock pulsed. You were blissed out, so full and well of him like no one else ever had-- because you were his, and his alone. It wasn’t just sex. It was more than that. From Aaron, whose shuffled steps fell out of his office, to any other little bitch in the office who had their own gain. 

“Damn,” Miguel shifted back, hooking his hand around your thigh to drag you back onto his dick. He swirled his thumb against your stiff clit, whirling it around in one circle, then another, and by the third your knees knocked together, bearing down on his cock to hold him still. “I can’t--” you stuttered out, I can’t--” 

“You’re going to,” he hissed. “You’re going to cum right here, right now, split open on my dick.” 

With another circle, you croaked an ugly cry, a terrible, ugly cry that Miguel couldn’t find any more beautiful as your body buzzed around him, tightening and squeezing your already tight cunt around him. Blissful pleasure radiated there, riding his dick for the friction against your virgin walls, your thoughts fading into a realm of insistent pleasure, where thoughts were space mush.

Miguel withstood the pressure on his cock,  clamping his hand down on your hip. His thrusts stuttered, filling your belly with whip after whip with his full hot cum. Your body twitched in the throes of his orgasm. He tracked his eyes down to your body, withdrawing with a bubbly pop of his dick from your abused hole, the intermingling of cum and virginal blood dribbling down your cheeks. 

Your gaze tracked Miguel, pressing his lips toward yours one more time. You shifted on the couch, legs pathetically tremoring. Miguel chuckled and walked toward his electric kettle, papers crunching underneath his feet, “Don’t bother moving. Not that you could, anyway.”

He warmed a warm cloth with hot water, testing its temperature on his palm before sitting beside your crumpled legs, spreading your legs to clean his mess and sooth the abrasive way he took you. He spread your lips, ensuring you were clean before he would flip the cloth, dropping it on top of your vulva. 

“You know you’re mine,” he asked, though it came out as a statement. With another cloth, Miguel cleaned his soft cock of the mess, exhaustion of the sex and what was to come returning to his gentle, deep voice. 

“Sí,” you answered. 

“And you’d do anything for me. Only me.” 

The words were laced with something more than a suggestion, but an affirmation of your loyalty. Your love. You pushed yourself up, hanging off his arm after he tucked himself into his pants. “Para siempre.” 

He leaned down, plucking the bundle with his sequenced DNA information. Your eyes coursed the information on the page, darting up to his tired eyes. You wanted to ask why or what he knew. Miguel knew it didn't matter. You were his now, from the top of your head to the bottom of your gorgeous toes. You trusted him fully. As you should. With the empty vial of Rapture sitting beside him, forgotten, he spared you a mincing smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Good. Let's fix our project.” 

[tenswrld]

true romance

popstar!haechan x upcomingartist!reader, angst, fluff

summary: haechan's the world's boyfriend — and yours too, i guess.

word count: 4.1k

listen to: true romance - pinkpantheress

a/n: first, sorry that its been so long...im trying to be better about writing but inspiration comes and goes,,i hope you will indulge in whatever this is!!! everytime i hear this song my mind goes to haechan for some reason sooo yeah >_< i have lots of drafts its just a matter of when or if i finish them LOL love yall tho & enjoy

•°. *࿐

tell me, do you view me the same or do you call me a stranger?

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

haechan is popular — without a doubt one of the most popular artists of your time. everyone either wants to be him or be with him, to which you completely understand. everything about him screams someone who was born to be on a stage, stealing hearts and whatnot. with such a bright personality, it was almost impossible to not like him.

you've had the privilege of getting to watch haechan grow from singing songs he wrote in his bedroom on youtube to him performing them in sold out shows. you're a fan, of course, but somewhere along the way — with crazy luck — you've wiggled your way into his life and into his heart. the two of you were music artists wishing on every star for some kind of breakthrough to the industry (take a guess on who got it). naturally, it brought you together. you were there when haechan reached 5,000 subscribers, and you were still there when he was selling out shows to 50,000 people. you've stuck by his side for so long that you're sure that its where you fit best.

in the moment, however, you're not so sure anymore.

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

the small smile on your face slowly disappears at haechan's words and hurt quickly settles into your chest. "...why? what would be so bad about that?"

haechan seems unable to grasp how upset you are at his words. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "it's not like that, y/n. but a scandal at this time wouldn't be good."

"a scandal?" you scoff slightly. "since when have you ever cared about that?"

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair that's still slightly wet from his post-performance sweat. "i just don't want to take any risks right now. especially since my album is coming out soon. you understand, right?"

"i fly all the way out here to see you, and you don't want to be seen with me?" you say with a trembling lip and a weak voice. you're hurt and you're angry, but can't seem to keep your tears at bay.

"i didn't say that."

"you might as well have," you spit back at him.

"let's talk about this later, okay? trust me, it would be a lot worse for you than it would for me." haechan picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, making his way towards the backstage exit door.

frozen in place overwhelmed with emotion, you watch your boyfriend open the door. you think he's had a change of heart when he pauses at the door and turns back to you, but somehow he's managed to hurt you even more.

"maybe you should take these too," he says, placing the bouquet you made him back into your hold. the smell of roses and sunflowers taking over your senses as more tears well up in your eyes. you hope the flowers hide them from haechan's gaze. though, you're not so sure he'd notice anyway, as he'd already let the door close and left you behind.

•°. *࿐

'cause, baby, i don't care about the fame

people talk. as an upcoming music artist, you're aware that people talk. as the (hidden) girlfriend of a global superstar, you're more than aware that people love to talk about anything and everything that doesn't concern them.

you and haechan aren't on the same level of fame — not that it matters to you. it never mattered to you, really. even as haechan grew and grew and you remained with your significantly smaller (but still decent) following, fame was never your strongest desire.

yet, now, you're wondering that maybe if you were just a bit more famous, more popular, more well known, then you wouldn't feel as far away from haechan as you do right now. even as he sits beside you on the king bed of the luxury suite he booked for this stop of his tour, you feel further away from him then ever.

"i mean, what would people say about us, y/n? about you?"

"you keep saying that, hyuck, but you're not explaining it to me," you say, growing frustrated with him. "why is it just about me?"

he purses his lips before averting his gaze to the floor. "they'll say nasty stuff about you — that you're using me for fame, or money, or something like that."

you shake your head. "but you and i both know that's not true. we've been together for how many years now? their words shouldn't matter." you take hold of his hand and rub your thumb against his knuckles. "you could have nothing and i'd still be here."

"people don't know that," he scoffs. "they'll assume the worst about you."

maybe he's right — you're sure they will assume the worst about you regardless of your long, deep history with haechan. would he start to believe them? you think it, but you don’t ask — too afraid of the answer you might receive.

"what are you so afraid of?" you ask him softly, begging him with your mind for him to look at you.

but he doesn't, his eyes stayed trained on the ground and he can only weakly squeeze your hand that holds onto his own.

"i don't know."

•°. *࿐

tell me, why i don't play about you

every song is about you

haechan finally has a short break in between the legs of his tour and he chooses to spend every waking moment of it with you.

things between the two of you have felt rocky for a while. it makes haechan ashamed to say it, but he's been so focused on tour and his new album that he's pushed everything else to the side. he's a perfectionist and he feels like he's barely made it — he wants everything to work out perfectly and is committed to making sure that happens. he's not sure how long he's been brushing off anything non-career related, but he misses you — even if you're with him.

he flys the two of you out to a small, quaint place in kyoto where he finally gets to enjoy some peace and quiet in his life. he chooses to turn off his phone, not too keen with the idea of his manager berating him about all his responsibilities he'll have to tend to when he gets back. he's on vacation and he's here with you: the one person who's been with him through every up and down.

you're laying in his arms and haechan misses you to the point where it hurts — when was the last time he laid with you like this? the revelation urges him to pull you closer, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lay on his chest. he sighs into your hair, breathing all of you in. it's silent, for the most part, until you ask a question that rattles haechan's being.

"why do you not sing about me?" you ask it so softly that haechan almost misses it.

"what? what are you talking about?" he's genuinely confused as to what you mean. who do you think he sings about?

"i know a handful of your old old songs are about me, but you don't perform those anymore," you murmur into his chest. "ah, don't mind me, i'm just talking."

you sound embarrassed and defeated and haechan wants to cry. did you really not know? how long has he been pushing you away?

"y/n, every single song i write is about you," haechan professes. "i couldn't write about anyone else if i tried."

his words shock you, even if they shouldn't. you tilt your head up to look up at him and he looks down at you with the softest gaze.

"not that i ever would, anyway," he continues, a sad smile painting his face.

"you mean it?" you whisper to him, wanting so badly to believe him.

when haechan's resolve breaks and his eyes glaze over, you know he means it. his hold on you tightens with one hand and the other comes up to caress your cheek, swiping a tear you didn't even know had fallen.

"of course," he croaks. "you're my muse, y/n. you."

this time, you're wiping his tears away as he cries and cries into your palms. you shift the two of you so that he lies in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into your torso, your hands running through his hair. he's apologizing over and over and doesn't say why, but you know why. you regret ever doubting haechan's love for you — even if he was to blame.

but, just as you're certain you love him more than anything, you know that haechan loves you back all the same.

"it's always been you, y/n."

•°. *࿐

and everybody’s shouting out your name

“you look too handsome to be pouting like that, you know,” you tease lightly, approaching haechan to adjust his tie fondly.

he can’t help but smile at you as you do so, his hands easily finding their place around your waist, tugging you close. “if you tell me to stay, i will.”

you sigh and place your hands upon his chest, allowing you to push yourself up to place a soft kiss on his lips. his lips trail after yours once you pull away and he pouts at you again, eyes begging for another kiss but you push him back ever so slightly.

“you can’t miss this, hyuck, you know that. this could be really big for you!” you beam, swiping a bit of your lip gloss off of his lips. “some important people might be there.”

“but you won’t be there,” he whines. “what’s the point?”

you roll your eyes playfully. “you’ll be fine. now go, your manager has been waiting.” haechan sighs and leans down to place one more kiss on your lips.

you pull away before he can get carried away. “go! and put a good word in for me with taeyong, yeah?”

haechan rolls his eyes but smiles at you, pecking you on the cheek as he bids you farewell. “no promises.”

ੈ♡˳

it’s barely been over an hour and haechan wants to leave.

normally he’s able to tolerate these sorts of things — the bright lights, loud music, snobby people all trying to one up each other. he can get by and chat with anyone as if he’s known them for years. typically, events like these breeze by for haechan. why was he hating every second of it?

it’s lee taeyong’s end of year celebration party. of course, as his junior, haechan was invited. he’s grateful that he’s made friends with lots of other artists under his company, otherwise haechan would have been long gone within the first 45 minutes of arriving. but, haechan stays, mostly because he admires taeyong and does, in fact, bring up you and your songs — which, to his surprise, taeyong says he knows you and enjoys your music.

haechan isn’t given the chance to talk more, unfortunately, due to an excited kim jungwoo who locks an arm around haechan’s shoulder and drags him away.

“ow — hyung! i was in the middle of a conversation!” haechan grits to jungwoo, lightly shoving his arm off of him.

“my bad, it looked like you needed saving,” jungwoo chuckles. “come on, everyone’s been looking for you.”

jungwoo leads haechan to a small circle of people to which haechan knows as his small circle of friends: mark, his company's beloved canadian rapper; johnny suh, one of seoul's most popular djs; and of course there's kim jungwoo, kim doyoung, and jeong jaehyun who make up dojaejung, korea's heartthrob boy group.

"yo, where have you been?" mark greets him excitedly, lightly slapping him on the shoulder playfully.

"what do you mean 'where have i been', i saw you yesterday, mark," haechan grumbles.

"woah, someone needs a drink," johnny chuckles. doyoung is quick to hand haechan a glass of champagne.

haechan takes a large gulp, hopefully to ease whatever tension he feels in his shoulders. he's trying to enjoy the party, he really is, but all he wants to do is come home to you.

"everything okay?" doyoung asks him, concerned with the way haechan seems to be downing his drink.

the younger boy sighs. "yeah, i'm fine, sorry. just stressed out."

"oh, your album is coming out soon, right?" jungwoo remembers, nudging haechan with his elbow. "congratulations!"

the rest of the boys congratulate him and haechan can only half-heartedly reply despite being very grateful.

"i'm sure it'll be great," johnny reassures him.

"saw a lot of love songs on that track list," jungwoo teases. "got a special someone?"

haechan stills at his words and he's caught in an argument with himself. does he mention you? does he say no? is this how he wants people to find out you’re together? before he can even reply, though, jaehyun cuts in.

"speaking of, i heard that kim minjeong has had her eye on you for a while, haechan," jaehyun says. he raises his eyebrows at the younger boy and haechan gulps, the rest of his friends nudging him playfully as they coo at him.

"that's the model, right? and singer?" doyoung asks. "you should talk to her!"

haechan feels like he's going to be sick. maybe he's being dramatic — its not like they're shoving him into minjeong's face and asking him to profess his love. still, he feels like he's betraying you in some way and he realizes he has to go home.

"i can talk you up, probably," mark says. "we're normally at the studio at the same time."

“i heard that shin ryujin has been talking about you, too,” johnny pipes in. “honestly, who hasn’t been talking about you? i’m surprised you’ve done nothing about it.”

doyoung hums. “she seems like your type, donghyuck! i know some people over at —“

"no! no, don't — " haechan places his champagne glass onto a nearby table abruptly and sighs shakily. "just...don't. sorry, i-i don't feel well. i should go."

confused and concerned eyes watch haechan as he rushes towards the nearest exit. he doesn't bother saying goodbye to taeyong, but makes a mental note to send him an apologetic note tomorrow. haechan sees kim minjeong catch sight of him, and he's sure she's about to make an attempt to stop him to chat with the way she looks at him with a flirty gaze. haechan is quick to turn in the opposite direction and flees out of the nearest door.

haechan's manager comes out soon behind him, frenzied after trying to catch up to a frantic haechan. he doesn't get the chance to ask the latter if he's okay, too occupied with calling their driver upon haechan's request.

"home," he chokes out. he's out of breath and he feels dizzy — whether its from the champagne or from guilt, he's unsure.

"i want to go home."

•°. *࿐

i'm in the crowd, can you see my hand?

haechan has reached the encore of his final show of his tour, yet he still feels a pressure that he cannot explain.

its not from all of his seniors and friends that attended in support of him, he knows that. it's not from the different producers and music artists that flew to seoul for him, either. its a pressure that weighs on his chest that has made him feel unsatisfied with each stage, despite putting 150% effort in everything.

the crowd is going crazy for him after he delivers his final ment, and he takes a moment to soak in it all, in hopes it would give him some peace of mind.

then, his eyes finally spot you.

you, in the back row of some random section, sitting with your manager, with a banner with his name on it and a headband with bear ears perched on top of your head. he doesn't know if you can tell that he's staring right at you, but you start waving around the banner with excitement. haechan can't help but adore you even more than he already does.

time stops for him as he realizes that you're here. through thick and thin you've always been there — what has haechan ever done for you? he hasn't given you even a sliver of what you deserve, yet you've never left him. you stayed when he was a nobody, and even now when he's been terribly selfish, you let him be.

there are thousands of other hands waving at him, but haechan can only see yours.

"actually," haechan starts, quickly silencing the crowd. "there's one more thing i wanted to say."

from your seat, you feel your heartbeat quicken. haechan is still standing and looking into your direction and you know he sees you.

"there's someone very special to me that's here tonight."

your heart stops as you realize what he's doing and you can't help but glance at your manager in a panic. fans around you are murmuring in confusion since haechan had already given a shoutout to his guests.

"they've been by my side since i was writing silly love songs in my childhood bedroom," haechan says, a fond smile taking over his features. "i wrote those love songs about them then, and i still write every love song about them now."

the gasps and shocked noises at his confession fall upon deaf ears — to you, you and haechan are the only two people in the world.

"some of you may know her — she's an amazing music artist as well. far better than me, in my opinion, but maybe i'm a bit biased." haechan sees you laugh and can't help but chuckle too.

"my girlfriend, y/n, is here tonight, and i couldn't be more grateful. wave, y/n!" haechan calls out to you. surprisingly, the camera cuts to you as you wave shyly, hiding behind your haechan banner. even more surprising, the crowd cheers loudly for you.

"isn't she cute?" haechan asks. he's delighted when he sees and hears the rest of the stadium agree.

haechan finally feels that weight lift from off of his chest and he feels like he can breathe. he's happy — ecstatic, even — now that the world finally knows he's yours.

"y/n, you once asked me what i was afraid of, and i said i didn't know," haechan recalls gently. "but i know now." he purses his lips to prevent himself from choking up.

"you've always been so supportive of everything i've done. you've done so much for me and i'm not sure how i could ever repay you." haechan sucks in a sharp breath. "i'm afraid that i'll never truly deserve you."

the crowd coos and some fans in front of you turn around to look at you. you're a mess: tears are streaming down your face, and your hands are shaking. you hide pathetically behind your banner again as your manager wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.

"i'm sorry for making you wait." haechan puts a hand over his heart, and you do the same. "i love you."

the camera cuts to you again and haechan glances at the monitor to get a better look at you as you mouth something back. haechan doesn't even attempt to conceal his smile or to hold back his tears. there's no use.

"i love you, too."

•°. *࿐

say what you want, this is true romance

“did you really have to mention that, hyuck?”

your boyfriend settles next to you on the couch, arm draping over your shoulder, as you scroll through his recent interview with vogue korea.

you pout at him and he's unable to stop the smile that takes over his face. he pinches your cheek and you quickly swat his hand away.

"what? what did i say?" he rests his chin on your shoulder to read the article for himself.

"i mean, does the public really have to know about me crying on our first date?" you complained. you continued scrolling and laughed as you read. "in what context would you ever have to tell vogue about our matching crayon shin-chan pajama pants?"

haechan laughs and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "honestly, i don't remember half of what i said during this interview. or any of what they asked me." he tugs you a little closer to him so that you're leaning against him, laying the two of you down. "all i know is that i'm pretty sure i started talking about you so much that they just called it a day."

"you're that obsessed with me, huh?" you teased.

haechan scoffs, wrapping both of his arms around you tightly. "obviously."

he watches you open instagram and sees you check the likes on your new post. he gasps dramatically, loosening one arm around you to snatch his phone from his pocket. "you posted?! where was my post notification?" he whines cutely.

he's a little too quick to find your account and he then quadruple clicks the picture to give it a like. "babe, why are your comments off? i was about to get really out of pocket," haechan whines again.

"okay, first, don't do that, please. save some of your dignity," you scold him. "but its because people are mean," you admit softly.

haechan's eyebrows furrow together and his tone stiffens. "who? what did they say?"

you sigh. "no one specific, don't worry. some people are just not too keen about us. your predictions were right, i guess," you attempt to joke, but it only makes haechan upset.

"here, come here," haechan beckons you up with him as he sits up. you're still under one of his arms, which he locks around your neck as he tugs you into his side. you're caught off guard, but lean into him anyway, arms wrapped around his torso. haechan lifts his phone up and takes selfies of the two of you, cheeks pressed together as you both smile uncontrollably.

you're both giggling like two high schoolers fresh into a relationship and you've never felt more happy and in love in your life. haechan presses wet kisses against your cheek before you eventually push his face away. still, he steals one more kiss from you — this time on your lips — and you let him.

"okay, i'm posting all of these," haechan declares casually, leaning back against the couch.

your eyes widen and you reach for his phone in an attempt to stop him, but haechan has already dodged you and raised his hand up. "hyuck, don't."

"why not? i'm in love with you, people just have to deal with it," he shrugs. "anyone who has a problem with us can get blocked."

you fall onto haechan's chest and he gladly wraps you up in his arms again. "you're stupid, but i love you."

"good, because i just posted it."

you peer up at haechan's phone and you see that he was true to his word. all of the selfies you just took piled into one singular post to which haechan captioned 'my heart'. you watch as he scrolls through the comments and blocks anyone with anything bad to say.

"wow, you weren't kidding," you say, amused.

"'course not. these people need to learn true romance." he leans down to kiss you one more time, this time letting the kiss linger. he pulls away but rests his forehead against yours, staring at you with eyes full of love. "i love you, too, by the way."

ੈ♡˳

haechan is popular — without a doubt, he's one of the most sought after guys in the industry. he's confident, charismatic, and he's bright. he's everyone's dream guy, it's no secret.

but, above all, he's yours, and you're his as well. he has devoted his heart and life to you and its not a secret to anyone anymore.

this time around, haechan wraps you up in his scarf to protect you from the cold before the two of you leave.

"i already have a scarf on, hyuck, just keep yours," you mumble from underneath the thick fabric.

haechan doesn't hear you (not just because he literally can't) because he's too focused on zipping up your jacket and tugging your beanie over your ears.

"okay," he says as he intertwines a hand in yours. he clutches the bouquet you made for him proudly in his other arm while he carries your bag and his own over his shoulder. "let's go home!"

its bittersweet as you realize how familiar yet different the situation is. you clutch haechan's hand tighter as he tugs you towards the backstage exit door, outside where the press and his fans are waiting.

he doesn't hide you anymore. no, instead haechan shows you off proudly and wholeheartedly as if it was what he was meant to do.

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter 11 — "you promise?"

—Deep Down.

Toc/cw; ateez being absolutely fking whipped for you. Mutual pining(they don't know its mutual tho). unironic use of alpha(I'm sorry ik it's bad). omega, omega, and more omega. (you'll understand that soon) fluffy but also really angst but dw it's gonna be okay I SWEAR. You overworking, mention of diet culture (for one line) and the struggles of being an idol, suggestive undertones towards the end. If I forget warnings, it's bc I don't know or forgot to add them.

There's a forbidden trail you follow. One you never thought you'd be led on. Wooyoungs hands are firm and soft when he pulls you along, and your tears dry quickly. Something you've gotten used to with time, the way his soft, smooth hand holds your own. You wish to be able to feel them for the first time again.

The first time. It was a fan sign. It's one of the first ones. You can't believe how nervous you were, yet you stood your ground and faced the crowd. Deep and methodical breaths filled your lungs.

Wooyoungs hand slips into yours under the table, out of view from everyone. If it was accidental, he doesn't seem to notice. Back then, you were just as small and niave. He squeezes once. Then twice. You wait. Feeling as if you should anticipate something.

You watch him from the corner of your eye. With his free hand, he waves, on his chubby face is a smile. His purple hair sways from the fans overhead. You want to push it out of his face.

You squeeze. Not once. Not twice. But three times. 'I love you.' The three squeezes. Letting the words echo in your mind. You don't expect him to know it. Something you learned when you were a kid in a foreign place, pretending to know what those words actually meant.

He squeezes back, one time.

You don't even pull your head up to look at the car. Don't even bother to watch where you step when you get into it. Wooyoung does the guiding for you. Doubtfully. Messily. He's never been good on his feet unless he was dancing.

That's not true, but he wants to make it seem like he's not nervous at the realization.

You, the beta of the pack. The one he's got closest with as soon as you met. You, the slick smiling, bias wrecking, only girl, 9th member of his permanent group. You, who he loves to squeeze, tease, and mess around with. the most calm, level-headed, beta person he knows.

The alpha can't believe it. Well, not to stereotype. But he's definitely stereotyping when he says you are- were the definition of beta.

You're an omega? He doesn't understand it himself.

It's a flashback to the day seonghwa found your bottle of scent suppressants.

It takes him a while to realize what it is, fiddling with the bottle in his hands.

"What's this for?" He asks, yunho. His left eyebrow raised. Yunho sits across from him on the free couch. He sits on the edge, scratching at his hair. The energy he holds is as if he's about to defend the reason he slipped the bottle into seonghwas hand when they got through the front door from filming. And he does.

"Have you been noticing anything off with her?" He points to the bottle, eyebrows raised. Seonghwa tries to connect the invisible dots yunho is throwing at him.

He nods. But he speaks up, "she's been different since she came back from the hospital. She's tired." He defends your honor even if it isn't something you said directly. Seonghwa looks back down at the yellow label. 'New Box' is the headline of the bottles sticker.

'Scent suppressants for all sexes, works best for omegas and betas' the smaller fine print says under it.

"Did you steal this from her bag???" Seonghwas jaw drops, he finally connects some of those invisible dots. A picture is beginning to form.

Yunho shoots up from his seat, pacing between the couches. "I did, but earlier today at the monitor, you remember, yeah?" Yunho looks to seonghwa briefly. His hand falls to his hip.

"Yes.. and?" How could seonghwa forget the display his younger membered showed with you? He had half a mind to turn away and walk. It's not like he was jealous, not with yunho.

He's just not a big fan of being touchy in public, but he wouldn't have mind if he was there, telling you you're perfect along with yunho. He doesn't think about it any further.

"When I was showing her the monitor, I leaned over, and when I did, I smelt.." yunho rubs a hand down his face. "I smelt her, really her," even yunho sounds crazy to himself.

"You know that artificial smells she's had since she came back?" Yunho jumps to the deep end. "Yeah?" Seonghwa sighs. Yunho takes his seat across seonghwa again. "That's what that is, and since I helped myself to her bag. I found a bunch of other things too"

Seonghwa doesn't want to pry into your personal stuff. But yunho doesn't sound too far-fetched. Yunho pulls out his phone, handing it to seonghwa. On the screen is a picture. The first thing he sees is a couple of small roll on perfumes. Clear, tiny fluid filled bottles without labels. A couple of medications he knows you keep on hand. Headache relief and sore body relief pills. Your tiny knick nacks take up the bottom of the bag, it's endearing really, everything in the bag screams you.

'Heat suppressants'

His eyes bulge. He zooms in with the pads of his fingers, zooming in on the bottle. Like birth control, it's got a subtle design to blend in.

Seonghwas heart leaps to his throat. He blinks, at a lost of words. "Thats not all" yunho leans behind the couch tucked against the wall. Where he pulls out something he hid.

Yunho throws the brown bag he recognizes from earlier this week, from when you got back from the hospital. The bag san grabbed. It's zipped open.

Tea bags and cake recipes in plain boxes. Shampoo and conditioner seonghwa is unfamiliar with. Perfumes and bottles of lotion he knows none of the guys or you use. But most distinctly is the smell of you. The scent of you. Vetiver, pumpkin, ambrette, and morning rain. There's the linger of alcohol and artificial scents in it.

Artificial beta you. It's surprising since it's coming from a bag and not the direct source that is your comforting aroma.

"She's an omega" yunho breathlessly says, taking the words straight from seonghwas' thoughts. The news isn't as shocking as he thought I'd be, it's like he already knew deep down.

Hongjoong doesn't know anything about that. The day he returns to the apartment at 4 am, he's surprised to see you wrapped up all comfy on couch. For a second his eyes watch the screen flicker across your soft features.

And when he takes his seat next to you, his hand drifts to find you. Subconsciously, his finger touches the soft skin on your ankle. He doesn't dare move any further.

He knows his hand is cold, his rings even colder. When you shiver, but don't pull away. You unconsciously drive him crazy. The back and forth conversation is at the very back of his mind. He misses you. He missed you a lot. And since he's been so busy, he hasn't gotten the chance to actually be there with you ever since you got back.

That week without you was miserable.

"I wanted to wait for you," your soft voice says. It echos in his head and peirces the silence that settles over the two of you. God, if only you knew how long he's been saying that for years to imaginary you that loves him equally so. Whenever you got close, and he wanted to lean in and kiss you all over.

But it's all in his head. And that's where it'll stay.

When your hand grips his, he leans in so you're not contorting yourself. "Lay with me?" You don't have to ask twice. Hongjoong scoots up right next to you. He drinks in your makeup free face, bare skin on display. A little breath you let out has him looking down at your plump lips, he quickly looks back up, hoping you didn't catch his stare.

"Nightmare?" He whispers, that's the only reason you stayed up, that's the only reason you want him so close. It's his duty as the pack captain to keep you safe in his close proximity. He pushes out his scent, hoping to ease you.

Your soft breathing fans his face, your droopy eyes slowly closing. His favorite smell in the entire world is you. Distant Vetiver. He breathes out. Watching your face relax. Soft Pumpkin. His hand falls over your hip. He wants so desperately to pull you closer. ambrette, and morning rain. He didn't know morning rain could smell like anything, but it's you.

You. It's always been you. All day, ever since you walked up that hill and gave him the most content of hug when you got back, the smell you unconsciously pushed out from the scent gland on your neck. he's been thinking about it.

You don't smell like those familiar scents anymore. You smell completely different now.

Sweet sugary nectar that enraptured his every being. And he isn't upset about it. Something in him is very fond of it.

When he wakes up the morning after. He doesn't want to move an inch. But he knows if he doesn't, your neck will be sore from the awkward way it lays on his arm. He sits up slightly, wordlessly wiggling his arm from under your head. He makes sure it doesn't fall with his hand cushioning you.

For a minute, he doesn't slip his hand from behind your head. His right thumb caresses your cheek, soft and shallow. You lean into his touch whilst you sleep, and he smiles down at you, a small snicker passes his lips at the situation. He bites his grin back.

Hongjoong wants nothing more than to be wrapped around your finger. To be the guy you want. To take care of you like you do him.

Hongjoong wants you to come to him with the truth when you're ready.

Jongho walks past your room. Once, twice, five times. Every time he wants to knock, he hears you on the other side. And he freezes up. He's like some lovesick puppy crawling at your door, whining to be let in.

Fuck it.

He knocks and pushes your door open. You're spread on the bed, your comforter and sheets scrunched up around you. The sun from behind him casts on you like an angel. The hue of sleepiness in your eyes when you lock them with his has him gulping nervously.

"Want to get some breakfast?" He sighs into his words, letting the anxiety out. Your smile- That makes jonghos' heartbeat thump loudly in his ears- lights up your face.

"Yes"

The walk is short, something jongho isn't fond of when he gets the chance to have these moments with you. Your shoulders bump. And he pulls the door open for you. The crowd only makes him walk closer to you.

You wrap your arm in his. Do you know what you're doing? You're killing him. Truly. Even the tiny things hold him hostage.

When he goes to order, you don't cut him off. That's the first red flag he sees. You're so independently you. It's custom for you to do so.

When you lean up to whisper in his ear. That's the second one. You never lean up to anybody. Usually, people lean down to hear you. Not the other way around. Still, he meets you halfway.

Jongho slides next to you, the excuse of it's too crowded on this tip of his tongue if you ask. You never do. You don't pull away when his shoulder bumps yours. "How's your elbow?" His fingers graze your arm.

You look up at him, your brows crease. It's then jongho thinks about how short you are. It distracts him only for a second.

You respond simply, shrugging him off. That's red flag number three. Jonghos eyebrows furrow, and his face pulls at his mask.

"If it wasn't, why were you in the hospital for a week?"

He watches the war of emotions flash your features. And that's the final straw for him. You clearly lie when you mumble out an excuse. He wants to press you. What are you lying about?

Why would you lie?

"Tests? What for?" He leans on his shoulder, staring at you from over the black mask on his face. He takes charge of the conversation. He waits.

"Because i.. because I'm a -" Ding!

The ding signifies jongho clicking everything into place. It's like a puzzle he's been working on. How you smelt different when he hugged you after you returned. How docile you looked this morning. How you leaned up into him. How you grabbed him. All of this is so uncommon for you.

Jongho is so used to you looking throughly messy in the morning. It's not something he dislikes (he likes how you look always), but it's so you to be messy. You leaning up into him, he doesn't ignore the way you take a big inhale in his ear before you speak. It's not his imagination. These things are so unlike you. Yes, you are the beta standard. Everyone agrees. Even you. But this.. You're being so.. he can't wrap his head around it.

Because.

He walks up to the counter, taking everything he ordered in his strong grip.

Because you're an omega and jongho is the alpha who figured it out.

Jonghos feet past faster than yours on the concrete. He doesn't slow down because he's locked in thought. He doesn't even notice when he sets a tone he didn't mean. He's gotta ask someone else about this.

He's got to figure something out.

Mingi is so clueless when it comes to you. Mingi is.. actually very clueless all the time. When yunho bursts into their shared bedroom. Ripping off the blanket from mingi. He's got half a mind to sit there, blinking his eyes in a sleepy daze. Yunho explains his master plan.

Mingi doesn't register any of it until yunho tells him a second time.

Mingi isn't unhappy about being told by yunho that you're an omega. He's completely still out of it. He's mostly unhappy he didn't figure it out himself.

It's very mingi to come to your room with a pillow that smells heavily like him. Your room is the most comforting in the apartment. He likes to think he contributes to it because his scent lingers in your bed the next morning. A certain possessiveness mingi indulges in.

Your sleepy face turns towards him. Beckoning him in.

He forgets the story yunho prepared for him.

You are so pretty. "Can I sleep in here tonight?" He fiddles with your doorknob when you look at him. He knows if the media got wind of how pretty you actually are, they'd be all over you in a second. He's somewhat happy the makeup artist don't do your specific features justice. When you let him in, he kicks his feet when he falls on your bed. The bed that smells like you.

The sugary sweetness under the mask of your beta scent is something he particularly takes a full second to shove his face in.

"I sleep better in your bed," he finally says, pulling his face up from your spot that smells specifically like you and no one else. Your fingers pull the glasses off his nose. He forgot he even had them on. As you lean over to put his glasses on your side table. He takes an indulgent whiff of you.

"It's because my room isn't messy," he can hear the smile in your words. It makes him smile. He bites his cheek gently. In the silence he tries to remember what yunho wanted him to say.

"I'm sorry again," he murmurs. And like you always do, you reassure him. It isn't his fault. There's no witty remark, something you usually make because you prefer to keep things light and he knows that.

Your excuse doesn't make him upset either, he doesn't think anything you do will make him upset. When he says something that makes you laugh, his heart pumps blood up his neck and his cheek grown warm.

He knows he's awake enough that it's not the drowsiness that takes over his next moves. Mingi searches for your hand under the pillow, when he finds it, he pulls it closer to his side. A satisfied sigh leaves his parted lips.

The softness of your skin to mingi is like falling into a basket of bunnies. Okay, maybe he's being dramatic. But his thumb caresses you like he would a bunnies ear.

What does he say now?

"I'm here if you ever need anything" it slips outs, his finger parts your thumb to intertwine his fingers between his. The scent glands between his fingers meet yours. A passionate and forward display of affection that mingi soaks in.

Until you pull away. And the faint crack of his heart rings in the dark room.

San and yeosang share the space at the top of the tower, prideful, they watch you lean and maneuver yourself. San is doing most of the shouting.

As soon as you get close enough, yeosang is pulling you over. Praises stop just as he's about to say them. The whiff that comes with you is sweet and all-consuming. San smells it, too.

You take it with you when you run to the table. Your smile is beaming. But San and Yeosang don't smile back.

Shock hangs in the air. Yeosang and san only stare in shock when you pull out something. Rolling it over yourself.

Afterward, you run without looking back. Yeosang doesn't know exactly what to do. Neither does San.

When they meet up at the bottom of the tower, San pulls hongjoong aside whilst wooyoung pulls yeosang aside. "What happened? Where is -" He asks his best friend with worried eyes. Yeosang doesn't know whether or not to tell him.

"I.." yeosang looks anywhere else. Wooyoung doesn't wait for yeosang to answer, pulling him over to the boys who crowd San and Hongjoong.

"I don't know where she went." San throws his hand up. Hongjoong steps back with his hands on his hips. Somewhere around here they will be called back to set and you will be missing.

Wooyoung is utterly confused, "what's going on?" He asks, and everyone goes silent. He steps forward, repeating himself louder this time.

"She's an omega," San says quietly, glancing at hongjoong and then back at wooyoung. Whatever response wooyoung was expecting, it certainly wasn't that.

And now that you're all caught up. Wooyoung storms the entirety of the building searching for you. Any hint of your freshly dyed hair, scent, or perfume is another lead to getting to you. Letting an omega, one distressed and upset loose around a building where, yes good people are, but there is bad somewhere. Everywhere. And he especially told the guys about this.

"You let OUR pack member go? When she's extremely upset? Did anyone even- by herself! She's still healing and you let her go off by herself!?"

Yes, maybe he's being more mature than he's even seen. It shocks himself more than his members. And when he finally finds you, a different weight falls over his chest. Your sobs and tears are the last thing wooyoung wants to hear or see. Softly, he reaches out. You pull away, upset, you say words that have wooyoung pulling his lip between his teeth to prevent barking back anything he could say in the moment that'll hurt your feelings more. You're highly sensitive right now.

Wooyoung doesn't know if he's ever seen you cry like this before. Doesn't even remember an instance he's ever seen you so upset. The first time wooyoung saw you crying, you let a few fall, wiped them away, took a deep breath. Then you got up and continued with your day. Just a few tears compared to the river you are at the moment.

He wants to wipe them away and pull you into his chest. He can't, though. You're irratic, lost in your own head, and nothing he's currently saying will get to you.

He chances it. "Omega, please." he calls to you.

It's like a switch. You look up at him with puffy eyes. The shock on your face makes wooyoung feel terrible. It should have been something you came to tell him about. It's not something he overheard from someone else like gossip. It shouldn't have been.

As soon as the car comes to a slow stop at the apartment, you can't bring yourself to walk up the stairs or even get out.

You know, as soon as you get out and stay locked up in your room, once the guys return, someone will come to ask questions. That things will change from what you're used to. And you'll lose something valuable. It's just a sneaking suspicion. But to you, it's the ever growing truth.

"Chen? Could you please take me to the dance studio?" You ask, staring up at the building. Chen, bless his heart, takes a second to think about it. Worry creases his graying eyebrows.

The dance room is a breath of fresh air. The familiar space takes away your thoughts.

And now that you're in this familiar space, you do what you do best. You dance to distract yourself. Your phone hooks up to the speakers, blaring loudly. Music beats your eardrums, and your heart does, too when you move about freely.

Your newly dyed hair sticks to your face. Your clothes aren't very dance worthy but you've wore more uncomfortable ones on stage. Your low waisted jeans stick to your skin, along with the hoodie sweater you wore. You're sweating heavily.

You don't even have your purse to reapply your scent blockers. It doesn't matter if you did. You don't care who knows anymore. Your manager isn't here either. A giant no-no. You left filming, an even bigger no-no. And now no one knows where you are except for Chen, the ultimate no-no. You trust him not to say anything, though.

You might get removed from the group for this. You might get blacklisted. Kicked off the face of earth. And you wont know until they tell the media. You wont know until atiny find out. But what does it matter when nothing matters to you at the moment. You've never broken your contract rules. No dating? Not even when you were a trainee. Keep up with diet culture? Who needs food anyways. No partying? You got it, boss. No smoking? You don't like smoking anyway. Get used to wearing irritating makeup and the stuck-up people you deal with on a daily basis? Gladly.

Never, never allow yourself to get comfortable. The fear of never being enough will keep you on your toes, perform until you pass out, sing til your lungs hurt, and write lines until you can't feel your fingers. Work endlessly 24/7.

You fall to your knees, breathing heavily. Your head meets with the cold wood floor. You lean against it for support. Breathe. You're trying. Continously heaving for breath. You wrap your arms around yourself, your knees pull into your chest against the floor your head still is tucked on the wood.

The burden taken on every day is your own. The way you work yourself to the brink of death is your own doing. Your manager has told you this before, even in your day off. Everyone you know has said the same thing, everyone knows how hard you push.

"You've earned it," Kimmie celebrates. Handing you a cupcake. "You debuted!" She cheers, blowing on a whistle, you stare down at the pink frosting in shock. "I'm so proud of you"

Years later, are you proud of yourself, though? Years later, are you willing to let your dream die? Years later, are you willing to risk everything? To tell them how you really feel, why you are the way you are now? How you became this way?

The door to the dance practice room stutters open. The foggy glass gives away your position inside along with the bright lights. Your breathing is all caught up, but you still keep yourself as low to the floor as you can.

Don't look, pretend you're not here, please. Please.

A warm hand meets your back. You can't hear anyone over the music. It stops abruptly. The silence is suffocating, just like the jeans you're wearing. Just like the hoodie you have on. The cold of the floor caresses your sweaty forehead, that is, until someone's hand wedges between it and you.

Softly pulling your head off the floor, yeosangs lean pale arms come into view. Your face turns in his direction, a deep set pout and fear in your wide eyes. He's squatted next to you, his knees on the floor must be uncomfortable. His hand brushes the hair off your hairline back. Words are stuck in his throat.

"It's okay." he whispers just to you, sighing at the end. Your eyes fall into a squint at the floor, and your nose scruches. He takes a second, thinking over his next move. He decides to guide you into his chest. He doesn't overthink it. Maneuvering your arms to wrap around him.

Yeosangs arms wrap around you. he's comfortable and caring, his heart beats down next to your ear. He doesn't really know what to do with his hands, he's not very good with touch. But he's trying for you. He lands softly on the floor, sitting on his butt and pulling you closer into the gap between his lean legs. His hand rubs on your arm, the other hand on your hair strokes it behind your ear delicately. Lemonade tea and cocoa butter stripes the stress off your shoulders, yeosangs scent is addicting. Like a warm blanket.

"I'm sorry, I'm okay" you try to reassure. Who? You don't even know. Yeosangs head nods over your hair, he doesn't believe you thus why he keeps pushing out his scent to calm you. But he let's you say it anyways. The door opens once again, scraping against the wood sharply.

"Did you -" it's jongho, his words fall short. He turns around and walks back out the door. The distant shout in the hallway signals that this is real and jongho is calling the rest of the guys.

You don't know if you can do this.

You pull away from yeosang, taking one final deep breath. These emotions that choke you are unwelcome. You need to get your shit together. You need to act like an adult and take care of the issues you cause. Yeosang pulls his hands back and stands up from the floor.

You take a full second to follow. Just in time, the manager bursts through the door, right behind him is jongho. Jongsiks hands grip your shoulders. "You okay?" He words out, the older man concerned. You adore jongsik like a father. He's your favorite staff member.

You nod, straightening your lips into a thin line. Jongsik scans your face as if decoding your answer like it has a secret meaning. He nods after, pulling you along with him down the hallway.

Your phone is on its last life, 2%. How long were you in there for? 10 pm, the clock flickers. Finally, it shuts off. Completely gone is the comfort of your phone. You sigh. Behind you, yeosang and jongho trail back. It's silent even when you step out of the building.

The night air nips your nose when you wait for jongsik to pull around with the company car. Yeosang stands on your left, awkward, looking anywhere else but at you. Your arms subconsciously wrap around you. You're cold, but you won't admit it. You won't say you're cold, not when the tension is so thick and making you claustrophobic.

The whiff of fresh florals, mahogany, charred sandalwood- you know this smell, it's jongho. You turn to look at him on your right. He shoulders off his black jacket, sticking it out to you without another word. You don't want to take it, don't want to give him another reason to pity you in this moment. But the look in his eyes when he stares so deeply into yours says 'go ahead'. You look down as you take it, unfolding your arms and shuffling it on. It's all the smell of jongho, every last bit of him. Every hint and detail.

You subtly sniff it as you shuffle around. Leaning on the balls of your feet. Jongho doesn't have another jacket on, just a thin brown hoodie. His eyes look ahead at the empty street, and his large palm wraps around his forearm while his other arm swings loosely by his side. He looks as if he didn't just hand over his jacket to you. He looks normal in the chaos that swirls around you. His soft eyelashes flutter, his heart-shaped lips part.

He's so boyfriend coded, you think. The thought makes you turn away. Where did that come from?

No one takes the front seat, you wonder why, when you first got in the car you sat in the middle, you're so used to sitting in the middle so the guys have room to move around, squishing them together seems cruel. You don't even think about scooting over. Yeosang takes your left whilst jongho takes your right. It doesn't even bother you when you when the potholes make you bump into yeosang. Or even when jonghos big shoulders lean into your spot.

All of that lingers under the anxiety pouring out of your pores. You're mentally sweating profusely. What the hell are you going to say? How are you gonna explain you went into heat? It is so embarrassing explaining to the eight guys you love (more than friends, you've always known) that you were locked up in a room having to do the do with yourself for a week. Perhaps you should have your priorities straight instead of wondering about that.

Your face feels like it's heating up from the embarrassment you're gonna feel.

The apartment is a little less cold than the hallway. The door shuts behind yeosang. Signaling to everyone else you've just gotten back. Jongho types away on his phone, no doubt texting someone. He heads straight to where the kitchen is. Your eyes don't follow. Instead, you take off his jacket and hang it up in the closet. Yeosangs hand brushes yours when he does the same from next to you. You don't stop to stare, and neither does he.

The living room is normally spacious, but you feel claustrophobic in the setting you've comfortably gotten used to. You take your seat on the couch, and your head falls into your hands. Your palms rub at your eyes, pushing away the sleep clawing to consume you in its grip.

The night light of the city cascades against the dark apartment. You watch your vision blur the shapes together that dance on the wall across you. Your shadow smack dab in the middle, hunched over to hide into yourself. Yeosang moves about in the darkness, walking towards the kitchen himself. Just out of your view, you hear the chit-chat of the guys. They must all be in the kitchen trying to learn how to start a conversation with you.

You take the lead, pushing yourself to stand up. You take one deep sigh. And walk toward the kitchen yourself. The chitchat dies as you come into view, you learn against the entry, your hip meeting the cold countertop. The majority of the guys are still dressed. They must all have been out looking for you. Your head falls down, shamefully.

"Three weeks." You start, voice small. You clear your throat, shaking your head towards the floor. "I've been like this - an omega for three weeks" Your arms cross over your chest. The silence eats away at you.

"I-" "Why didn't you tell us?" Mingi says, hongjoong stares daggers at his face. Possibly hoping to quiet him. "I. I didn't.." You're tired of lying. You swipe your finger under your eye. "I was told not too," you speak clearer, looking up. All eyes are on you.

"They told me not to tell you guys. They said they were gonna sit us all down and explain it. Keep it under control until they have a statement to the press for my absence and my new sex.." You get more silent as you continue. Confidence deteriorating. "I didn't want to lie, but I.." You stop there, sighing heavily.

"How?" Hongjoong asks, eyes glance to him but the majority of them stay on you. You know exactly what he's asking. "I don't know, really. it started just a couple days before practice, I wasn't feeling well. Seonghwa, yeosang. You two noticed my scent was off and I still didn't think about it until I collapsed." You kick your foot, looking towards the two members you mentioned.

Seonghwa and yeosang look like sirens of the night. Their eyes peirce you. "I still don't know the exact cause of the change. The doctors said a few different things. I won't know 'til I get a call." You honestly say. The silence lingers in the air again.

"When is your-" a hand slaps over mingis mouth, it's jonghos, he holds mingis head to prevent him from moving out of his grasp, mingi struggles. It's funny, yet you dont laugh, only smile the tiniest bit. "When is your heat?" Wooyoung finishes for him, all eyes on him now. Well, more like all shock directed at him now. Mingi stops struggling, both he and jongho stare at wooyoung like he grew a second head.

"Less than two weeks" you bite your cheek, facing the bold question head on. "Actually, i had my first one while i was gone." your head falls back towards the floor. The wood planks are so very interesting. Wow. "I've been taking heat suppressants to bide the pain.. but I don't know. I won't know until I get there."

Silence again.

Seonghwa coughs, turning around. He breaks the silence as he moves bags on the counter. "Most of us had dinner but I saved some food for you" he hands you the solid plate, like its a code word. Each of the guys go to do something else, moving around and doing their own things. Plastic wrap covers the plate, you stare down at it in your hands.

The change of the conversation makes you trip on your thoughts. "You're not mad?" You blurt out, looking up at seonghwa who goes to pass you. He stops, surprised, he turns. "Mad?.." he mumbles, looking away as he thinks. "I'm not mad, why would I be?" He mumbles, eyebrows pulled taunt over his smooth forehead.

You blink back, once, then twice.

Seonghwa bites his plump bottom lip, looking to the living room where hongjoong is sitting with his laptop in his lap. They pass glances to each other. A plan under wraps that no one else knows about except for them. He turns back to you, sucking in a breath. Your eyes hold the universe, sparkling when you look up at him. He catches his hand before it reaches out. Scratching the back of his neck. "They're not mad either." He whispers down to you.

Mere centimeters away, the pure smell of you has seonghwa wrapped. If anyone is mad, he's certainly covering for them just because he doesn't want your pretty eyes to shed any tears. "You promise?" It's completely quiet. Seonghwa looks down at your lips pouting out gently.

"I promise." He glances between your eyes and lips. His hand scraps up against the doorway, leaning into it.

The tension is noticeable between the two of you, hanging high in the air. Your eyes never move, neither does seonghwa. In this moment he has you locked in his siren like stare. In the same instance your big worried eyes hold seonghwa hostage. Neither wants to break apart.

"Have you thought about.. who you have to call when your heat hits?" Seonghwa pulls his pliable lip between his teeth again, trying to drag an answer he didn't know he wanted.

Your lips part, your tongue pokes out to wet them. A shining sheen seonghwa wants to drown himself in. "No... I was just gonna endure.." You whisper, cheeks feeling hot. Seonghwa, scans your eyes. "You did it on your own?" He whispers back heavily, his mouth falls open only the tiniest bit.

"Mhm" you nod. He sucks in a breath, images flash through his mind. "Poor 'mega" he sighs just under his breath, his free hand reaching up to rub his thumb just under your lip, he holds your chin "you didn't have your pack to help you, yeah?" He glances down at your lips. It takes all restraint in seonghwa to not turn down and capture you in the passion he's feeling. Your thighs shifting is what catches his eye.

Your sweet smell is stronger in his proximity. Seonghwa wants to drink it in. He has to keep composure. He reminds himself.

He turns away quickly, leaving you in the kitchen. Plate still in hand. You let out the breath you had been holding, holding the plate tightly.

What was that?

Less than two weeks. Less than two weeks you have a decision to make. Whether or not they'll take up your offer, you don't know. But seonghwas display of affection yesterday captured you in the tide of troublesome emotions.

The sun beams through your window, shedding your dark room with lights. The breeze pushes open your curtains. They swirl in the brisk morning air.

You hold the paper in your hands. The mail you hold is very important, very, very important. You have to fill in the blanks and can't change it until your heat after this upcoming one.

The line that stunts you, is your emergency heat contact. The people or person that you should immediately be directed to, to situate you and take care of you when you won't be able to.

The line is blank, it can be left that way.. but you have many names in mind to fill it. You just hope they'll want to be on it.

Why did I write him like that omg(i know exactly why). Thank you for the continuous support, mwuah.

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @unripeapple7 @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog (if you wish to be added to taglist please comment under the main masterlist ♡ thank you)

[linos-luna]

Stray Kids: Dom vs. Sub ❣️

Stray Kids x Reader

——————————————————————

Chan

Soft Dom!

Chan is definitely a soft dom. All he wants is to take care of his baby girl/boy. Although he can be strict if necessary.

• loving

• you call him daddy

• loves teasing you

• lots of praising

• you better listen to him or he will punish you

• but it takes a lot to get him mad

• still lowkey controlling, even outside the bedroom

• loves manhandling you

“Let me take care of you, baby”

“Listen to daddy, baby[girl/boy]”

“You’re doing so good for me”

“You’re such a good [girl/boy]”

~~~~

Minho

Hard Dom!

Minho is a hard dom. He is very strict and loves being rough with you. He also loves punishing you. He says he hates brats but lowkey likes when you act up, it’s like a challenge.

• calls you kitten/kitty

• loves degrading you

• dirty talk

• spanks you a lot

• loves your ass

• often fucks your due to jealousy

• but is always soft afterwards

• best aftercare 💕

“You’re enjoying this huh? What a dirty slut you are”

“Thinking you can act up in front of me? *tsk* dumb kitty!”

“I’m gonna spank your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week”

“Dumb kitty, all you can think about is my cock”

~~~~

Changbin

Switch! (Leaning sub)

Changbin is a switch. When dom, he is very soft. Much like Chan, he just wants to take care of you. When sub, he can be whiny but will usually listen.

• whiny sub

• wants to impress you

• mostly listens to you.

• doesn’t act out much

• wants to be taken car of

• but when he doms

• literally so soft but also loves manhandling you

• doesn’t care if you’re smaller, bigger, taller or shorter than him. You are his baby and you should listen to him

• rarely punishes you but if he does, he likes denying your orgasams

• degrades and praises you

“Please let me touch you~”

“I’ll be your good boy”

“You’re just my dumb baby”

“Aw, are you tired? I could do this all night, baby”

~~~~

Hyunjin

Switch!

Hyunjin is a cocky dom and bratty sub. He always wants to get a rise out of you no matter what.

• As a dom, he constantly teases you

• he loves taking you from behind and denying you what you want

• as a sub, he is a brat.

• he wants to bug you

• he needs your reactions to get off

• hard to tame but once you do, he’s putty in your hand

“You can’t cum without me huh?”

“What do you want, baby? I can’t hear you.”

“Make me!”

“Are you mad, [noona/hyung]?”

~~~~

Han

Bratty/whiny Sub!

Han is needy and constantly wants your attention. He will do anything to get it no matter what.

• is very whiny

• mostly just whiny/needy but will be a brat if you don’t give him instant attention

• will call you Mommy, noona, or Daddy.

• wants to be called baby or baby boy

• may have a pain kink..

• although pretty easy to tame

• after all… he just wants your attention

“[noona/mommy/daddy], touch me already!”

“I’ve missed you all day!”

“What are you gonna do? Punish me?”

“Hurt me, [noona/mommy/daddy]!”

~~~~

Felix

Sub!

Felix is the sweetest and loving sub. He will rarely ever act out. The smallest of touch will make him weak in the knees. Lowkey desperate for you

• will be so complicit

• wants to be called baby boy or lixie

• calls you mommy or daddy

• will refer to himself in 3rd person if he’s really deep in subspace

• needy and desperate for you but will hold back

• don’t be mean to him tho, he’ll probably cry

• just wants to be your good boy

*pouts* “[mommy/daddy], I need you right now.”

“Is lixie a good boy?”

“Please please please!”

“Can I touch [mommy/daddy]?”

~~~~

Seungmin

Strict dom!

Seungmin is a very strict dom. He hates brats and will not tolerate it at all. He won’t even entertain it unless you really piss him off

• lots of rules

- no touching yourself without his permission

- no cursing

- no cumming without permission

- no talking back to seungmin

• must call him sir or master. Or by name every time

• will bend you over and spank you at any point

• isn’t afraid to scold you in public

• loves to humiliate you

“Watch your mouth, baby[girl/boy]”

“On your knees, now!”

“If you don’t behave, I will spank right here, right now. I don’t care if your friends are here”

“Are you gonna be a good [girl/boy] today?”

~~~~

Jeongin

Switch (leaning Dom)

• Jeongin doesn’t like being a sub but will submit if you push him

• calls you noona or hyung

• very sensitive to touch

But…

• when he doms 👀

• he loves showing you who’s boss

• He’d mock you but still call you noona or hyung

• hard dom

• wants you to ride him so he can watch your fucked out face and control your hips

• he loves feeling the power over you

“am I still your baby boy now?”

[theysaidhush]

The cat from across the garden.

Alt. Title -> Under the Weeping Willow

-> CatHybrid!Jungwon x CatHybrid!Shy!Reader, slight Jake x Reader and Jay x Jungwon

-> Jungwon was pleased with his life, until he saw you, the cat from across the garden.

-> Fluffy fluff, PoorStudent!Jake is kinda a bad owner but I swear he treats you like a princess, Lovesick!Jungwon is a menace, Rich!Jay agenda, Smut (p in v, unprotected sex, Jungwon is mounting you and it's hot, fingering, Breeding Kink, cream pie, slight nipple play, Reader goes into sub-space, even tho it feels like it's not dub-con)

-> Shoutout to my ♡ anonie that I love so much, to p1h-delulu (I'm sure it's the wrong name but you know who you are) for liking every single post that I post (duh) and to @adaamazing who asked to be tagged ! Almost forgot my moots @unh0ly-dr3am3r silly me ugh ! Feedback is appreciated 💝

Jungwon loved being an indoor cat. In 2023, hybrids had the right to be as independent as any human. They went to university, worked, owned their own apartments. But not Jungwon. Like some hybrids, he was said to belong to his owner. With a contract, a signature and a commitment to take good care of the hybrid, and so on. Kind of like an adopted child who stayed at home even after coming of age. What need did he have to go out and interact with people ? Why would he go to work or study when he was fed, housed and showered with affection in his master's apartment ? Ah, seriously. He loved living a life of ease.

"Jungwon, gotta go, see you !"

"See you tonight !" he nodded and smiled at his owner, Jay, a young American with whom he'd been at the side for almost four years now, and who never failed to provide for his needs. Jay patted him on the head before leaving. He huffed and rolled his eyes at the sight of his disappearing friend. He kept asking himself why he always had to leave him alone like that. The young boy looked around, lost in thought, exploring all the possibilities open to him. He could go and steal from the fridge, tear up his master's white sheets just to annoy him, or watch TV. All these proposals sounded tempting, but Jungwon would be content to read the mangas that had thoughtfully been placed at his disposal. There was even the latest volume of Jujutsu Kaisen !

So that's what he did, stretching out in the comfortable bed he shared with his master, tail wagging lazily as his big almond eyes scanned the panels of the book. The surrounding heat should have been stifling; summer was around the corner, after all. Jungwon was unable to stop smiling, rolling left and right, perfectly content with the life he was leading, purring in the sheets. But as his eyelids grew heavy, the urge to sleep all too much, Jungwon rose from the bed, leaving everything in a mess, and headed for the balcony of their quite spacious apartment, fists clenched as he rubbed his eyes, crinkled by the heaviness of his eyelids, fatigue almost driving him into the door of the small exterior.

The balcony wasn't very big, but it wasn't small either. Jungwon, 1.74 m tall, could lie down on it. The safety barrier, a thick plate of glass that allowed him to see what was going on in the identical balcony some 150 meters from theirs, wasn't very high either. Standing up, it reached just above his waist. In fact, if he leaned over too far, he risked falling into the small shared garden downstairs. The layout of their apartment was quite practical. They lived in a one-storey building with only two apartments. The one downstairs had been vacant for some time. Opposite, on the other hand, the only thing he could see was the almost identical building just across the street, if it wasn't for the fact that this one was much smaller. Jay had once told him that the layout was almost the same, except that both apartments were smaller. Add to that the lovely shared garden in the middle of both houses. In the tenants' contract, it was stipulated that the garden was shared between the four apartments, but the cat had never seen anyone venture into it. On several occasions, though rarely, he had seen a boy going in. But in those moments he was between sleep and consciousness, so his memories were a little hazy. Not that he really cared.

Yawning, he slumped onto his back on the long gray cushion that lined the balcony floor and spread his arms and legs, letting the warmth of the sun warm him. But suddenly, his ears twitched by their own volition. A sound had reached them. Incessant, repetitive, but above all annoying, since all he wanted to do was sleep. Sitting cross-legged on his cushion, tail wagging rapidly from annoyance, Jungwon's gaze scanned the surroundings. It was usually silent. It had only taken him two weeks' vacation with Jay for these birds to have the good sense to come back and bother him ? This thought made him realize that his scent was no longer lingering on the balcony. He'd have to remedy that, but first he'd have to chase those birds away. His pupils narrowed to a fine slit, ready to show his pretty fangs to any bird that dared sabotage his nap.

He leaned over a little and swept his gaze across the garden, looking for the culprit, but finding none. Gradually, his eyes made their way up the opposite building, and at last, they settled on a silhouette. How strange, Jungwon couldn't remember having a neighbor. Frowning, he detailed the figure with a critical eye, then his eyes opened wide at the sight of the source of the noise. Jungwon had excellent eyesight, so this figure seemed to be sitting right in front of him. His eyes followed the movements of the brush the person was holding in her pretty, slender fingers, then settled on the subject of those ministrations. A magnificent bushy tail, pale gray but shiny, and seemingly unconditionally soft. Jungwon wanted to slip his fingers into it. He looked up to see who owned it, and was greeted by the sight of a young woman, no older than himself, her ears folded back on her skull, a persistent pout on her lovely features.

Jungwon tilted his head, curious. She didn't seem in a good mood. She didn't look pleasant. What if she was trying to assert her territorial rights ? Was he destined to have to fight her every time he came out on the balcony for a good time ? Ah, that was out of the question. Jungwon loved lying in the sun, napping to the chirping of the birds, watching the clouds pass overhead, grooming himself. He didn't want it to change, he liked his every habit, he liked his routine, he didn't like what was unexpected and unpredictable. So he was about to hiss, curling his lips and flattening his ears against his skull, when suddenly the girl across the garden lifted her head.

The first thing the cat noticed was the pout that adorned his face. Her lip was pouting and her cheeks were puffed up like a hamster's. Jungwon was surprised to find her…cute ? He couldn't stop his face from returning to normal and his eyes from widening, forming two black beads as his pupils dilated, showing his curiosity. His new neighbor's ears perked up in turn and her face changed, adopting a startled look. She didn't know she had a neighbor either, apparently. Jungwon's sharp gaze didn't miss the way her pretty tail twitched under his fingers, or the way she flinched, sitting back on her haunches in case she needed to leave in a hurry. She tilted her head, curious, before leaning forward a little and smiling softly, greeting Jungwon with a shy wave of her hand. As soon as she had done so, she moved away on her hands and knees, her gaze never leaving his, before speeding off once she was near the glass door of her balcony.

Jungwon suddenly felt as if he couldn't see properly. In the past, his colorful world could keep him lost in thought for hours on end. His vision had no limits; it didn't stop at the sky or the stars. Now, however, he felt as if someone had put a cardboard box around his head. That he could only see in front of him, see that famous balcony, that tail sticking out of the wall, wagging from time to time, its owner peeking out from time to time to see if her new neighbor had left.

Jungwon felt as if all he wanted, wished for, was her. He wanted to hug her, stroke her hair, see that pout again, groom her and bask in the sun with her. His favorite color now was the fur on her tail, pale gray. Everything he'd found interesting before no longer made sense. Knocking glasses off Jay's counter, hiding his shoes, it was all futile now. She was the only thing that made sense. He was lovesick.

"Jakey !" you rushed to the door, leaving your hiding place behind the wall, near the French windows, to greet your best friend and owner. Your situation was similar to Jungwon's, but your characters were very different. And unlike the cat across the garden, you didn't have the luxury of living in a big apartment, nor did you have the luxury of breaking things because you knew Jake couldn't afford to replace them. So you were docile and gentle, always clamoring for his attention when he came home from his long days at work.

"Baby ! How was your day ? Did you nap in the sun ? I left the balcony doors open." he asked as he dropped his bag to the floor, opening his arms wide for you to step inside.

You threw yourself into his arms, savoring his embrace as you rubbed your head affectionately against his. You couldn't respond as a heavy purr escaped you in a continuous rhythm, making Jake smile as he swayed from one foot to the other, making you twirl left and right.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm really tired. I'll go take a shower and I'll meet you in bed okay ?"

Your purring suddenly stopped and, gradually, you loosened your grip around Jake's neck. For a minute, you just stared at the ground, searching for the right words to say, but finally decided not to spoil his evening. Your owner was doing his best to make sure you had a roof over your head and enough food on the table, so you couldn't ask too much from him, right ? It was bad enough that he was a student, but he'd also decided to take you with him when he left Australia, not wanting to be separated from you. So he had two mouths to feed, courses to attend and revise, and a job where he had to do his best for fear of being replaced by someone else who needed the work just as much as he did.

But you ? You did little more tan make him draw on his reserves and make him buy you clothes and accessories every time he went out. Well, you didn't ask him to, he just went gaga on you and couldn't help but buying the clothes in the shop front because he thought that it would look good on you. You had nothing to complain about. You had no right to wish he'd sit beside you on the balcony on a sunny afternoon and brush your tail; you had no right to ask him to spend an entire evening cuddling you, rubbing behind your ears, when he woke up early the next morning. You had no right to demand that he take care of you; that was selfish of you. You could do as you did today, do it yourself and grumble. Just like you did last week when you moved into that new apartment. So you pushed that ugly feeling of envy to the back of your mind and looked up, a little smile on your lips, gentle and understanding, and you nodded.

"Thanks Baby." Jake kissed your forehead, kicked off his shoes, grabbed his bag and then made a bee-line toward your shared bedroom, missing the way your ears had drooped the instant he'd disappeared from your sight, tail dangling.

D-1

The next afternoon, the call of the heat was far too tempting. You were bored out of your mind in your little studio, there was no TV or console, and Jake had taken his computer with him. You were doomed to roll around in your shared bed, count the number of fake glow-in-the-dark stars you'd stuck to the ceiling for the hundred and twenty-third time since you'd moved in, or talk to your pet stuffed animal. But the sun's rays streaming through the slippery doors and across the floor looked comforting. You were sure that underneath you could fall asleep until Jake returned. But being the shy cat that you were, you didn't want to see that imposing cat across the garden again. When you moved in, you were sure you smelled another hybrid. That was him. The cat from the apartment directly in front of you.

Sighing, you slumped full-length onto your stomach, caressing with your fingertips the faded piece of carpet that Jake had wanted to put under the bed for some reason you didn't yet know. Your tail hanging off the bed suddenly caught your attention. Since you'd moved in, its color had faded and it was much less soft than before. It was your pride and joy, and you loved to stroke it or curl up around it in winter, it was so comfortable and silky. Jake was also very fond of your tail; he often said that he met a lot of hybrids at university, but none of them had a tail as pretty as yours. Huffing, you sat up on the bed, perfectly proud of the idea that had just crossed your mind: you were going to brush yourself and give some color back to your pile of fur. Maybe then Jake would cuddle you again instead of slouching off to sleep like a starfish.

Nodding, a big smile on your face, you stood up and walked over to the drawer Jake had emptied so you could put your beauty products in. You could count them on the five fingers of your hand, but the gesture and the intention had made you so happy that Jake didn't even have the heart to feel guilty about not being able to give you what you wanted or needed. But as your gaze wandered to the corner of the drawer where you usually put your brush, you found it empty. Devoid of your favorite beauty tool. Then you were struck by the realization that you'd left it on the balcony yesterday.

Dejected, you let yourself fall to the floor, glancing from time to time at the parquet floor by the glass doors, which was brilliantly lit by the sun's warm rays. Ah, you really wanted to take a nap on the balcony now. You took your courage in both hands and slowly, like a cat approaching its prey, moved towards the door without ever leaving your place on the floor, crawling on your hands and knees, your tail wagging nervously behind you. The sun's reflection prevented you from seeing properly outside, so, with a hesitant hand, you took hold of the handle and gently slid the door open, leaving it wide enough for you to pass through, but also to close it quickly if necessary.

Your palms rested on the concrete that made up your balcony and you sighed with contentment at the sensation of warmth beneath your fingers. It was so comforting. You looked up at the balcony on the opposite side and were only half-surprised to see that the long cushion used as a mattress was occupied. So you hesitated, your knee stopping mid-air, unsure whether to simply pick up your brush or bask in the sun, minding your own business. What a dilemma.

Jungwon, who had been sitting here for a good hour, hadn't taken his eyes off your balcony even once. He'd been waiting for you to come out so he could see you again. You had been haunting his thoughts since yesterday. He'd been distant all evening, staring into nothingness as he was thinking about you. He hadn't gone to ask Jay for his "Welcome home bitch" caress, hadn't replied when Jay pointed out with amusement that he'd behaved like a good kitten today, and hadn't once hissed at him. What had really alarmed the American, however, was when Jungwon came to bed, pupils dilated, still lost in thought, and started kneading his stomach while demanding scratching. But Jay wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Just because his cat, who was independent and usually fell asleep grumbling when he tried to pet him, was now accepting his caresses, didn't mean he should panic.

In short, Jungwon had been waiting for you since last night. So when the glass door gently slid open and let him catch a glimpse of you, he couldn't help the purr that resonated in the hollow of his throat. Like a deer caught in the headlights, you raised your head, freezing, waiting to see what his next move would be. And Jungwon knew exactly what to do at that moment. At least, his instincts knew, and what else could he do but listen to his instincts.

He tried to look as small as possible and laid down on his back, watching you as your silhouette appeared upside down to him, a loud purr escaping from his throat. You didn't look convinced, but Jungwon knew that you no longer perceived him as a threat, at least for the time being. He also knew that his smell and the sound of his purring had reached your ears, since the pheromones you unconsciously let escape from your body told him you were relaxed. However, even as you tiptoed towards your brush, you remained seated by the door, ready to leave at the slightest sign of aggression on his part. With a slow, repetitive gesture, you began to brush your fur, glancing from time to time at a completely relaxed and enamored Jungown, lying on his bed, watching you repeat the same gesture tirelessly. What a great day.

D-3

"Jay !" Jungwon smiled, rushing into his eldest's arms, hugging him affectionately while purring loudly.

Jay didn't know what to say, what to do. He recoiled and couldn't stop his face from twisting into a concerned grimace. In all the years he'd known and lived with Jungwon, the cat had never given him such a warm welcome. It was fascinating. And frightening.

Trying to act as if nothing had happened, Jay awkwardly returned Jungwon's embrace, not being usually the affectionate type. But he couldn't very well push him away when, for the first, or rather second time in almost five years, Jungwon was demonstrating affection for him. Admittedly, it was an unexpected change, but also a welcomed one. For three days, his cat hadn't broken anything, raided the fridge or torn up his sheets. Whatever had happened to him, it must surely have been something positive.

Jay finally managed to detach himself from the young man and set about removing his shoes, when he suddenly froze. No. There was nothing normal about this behavior. He shouldn't be happy about it. The heat of Jungwon had already passed, and the next heat was still a long way off. It was selfish of him to be content and satisfied with the actions of his otherwise distant cat. Something was going on with Jungwon if he suddenly acted all lovey-dovey with him.

The American sat down on the sofa and didn't even need to call out for his cat, since the latter had followed close behind and was now laying with its head in his lap, its tail wagging lazily on the edge of the sofa. Jay took a deep breath and began mindlessly stroking Jungwon's black ears, hesitating several times before finally asking, "Jungwon, are you feeling…good ? Not sick or anything ?"

Jungwon turned his head towards his owner so that his face faced his, tilting his head in disbelief. For a few brief seconds, Jay saw this glint of malice and something akin to disdain, an expression with which he was very familiar because of his cat. But he also saw that it had come and gone, while Jungwon, curious, shook his head to indicate that he didn't feel weird.

"Did something happen today ?"

Despite the way Jungwon had dismissed this question by shaking his head, Jay knew instantly that something had happened. Jungwon had smiled stupidly and his pupils had dilated in a way the boy had never seen before. His gaze had become distant, almost dreamy, and then the black cat had ended the discussion by lying on his side, towards the French windows leading to their little balcony, his purring doubling in strength. Ah, Jay now had two problems: he couldn't move since his cat had taken up residence on him, and on top of that he was acting strangely. Ah, what a perfect day.

D-4

"Jakey ? Jakey ! Jake !"

"What ?!" The Australian boy snapped, his head turning in your direction, a frown on his face. He'd dropped his pen and pushed his chair back from his little desk at breakneck speed, causing you to take three steps backwards, looking guilty, ears folded back against your skull. He exhaled heavily and ran a hand through his hair, restraining the urge to tear up his course sheets that he'd been staring at all evening. The whole three weeks, in fact. "What do you want ? What do you need ?"

"I-" You stammered, standing in front of him like a child being scolded. Your tail wagged nervously behind you and you began to play with the edges of your sweater. Under the pressure of his gaze, your cheeks flushed, embarrassed. "Nothing, just filling silly… 'M sorry…"

Jake huffed as he returned to his desk. He really wanted to give you all the love you deserved, but right now, if he wanted to be able to give you what you wanted and more, the last thing he needed was to repeat his year. He wasn't to be distracted by your adorable pout, let alone spend thirty minutes playing with you, even if you brought him your toys as you had done over the past few days. He couldn't afford it; he had to be the responsible one for the sake of your future. Even if it meant letting you down a little. You were a cat, you were also independent, right ?

You frowned not in anger but in frustration. For the past few days, you'd had this irrepressible urge to make yourself heard by Jake. You wanted him to listen to you, to see you, to cuddle you, to love you. But you tried so hard to push those feelings deep into your heart, knowing full well that you couldn't be a distraction for him. And yet, a little voice inside your head kept urging you to meow until he paid attention to you.

You stood behind Jake for a few minutes, part of you hoping that maybe he'd turn around and give you a hug, or let you rest your head in his lap while he worked, but none of that happened. Not even after ten minutes. Not even after thirty minutes. Or an hour. You were still standing behind him, your feet and body begging you to move, to sit, your limbs tingling, indicating that you were becoming numb. And that's what you were becoming. Numb.

"Oh my God yes finally !" Jake sighed with a mixture of joy and fatigue, big dark circles under his eyes and finished cups of coffee stacked next to his laptop. He'd spent hours on this project and was very pleased with it. He wouldn't have to work this weekend and could concentrate fully on his barista job. He might even be able to work overtime to buy you that new console game you'd been talking about after seeing the advert on TV. Yes, that's what he was going to do.

Happy and pleased with his idea, he turned to the faded sofa in the middle of the room to tell you of his genius, "Baby !" But you weren't there. You weren't lying on your stomach, snuggled under a soft comforter, reading your favorite book for the third time. Confused, he scanned his apartment, looking for your silhouette. You sometimes liked to lie on the floor when it was too hot. But you weren't there. But your favorite ball, the one you loved to play catch with Jake, was. Miserable, alone, in the middle of the dimly lit living room. The same one you'd brought him earlier in the evening.

Jake's eyes widened and he had what seemed like one last burst of caffeine, allowing it to remind him of how he'd rejected you hours before. "Oh shit shit shit." Slipping a hand nervously through his hair, he scrambled to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair with the force with which he'd stood up. "Baby com'here !" His calls fell on deaf ears and no sound reached him. He didn't have to look for you, since his apartment consisted of just three rooms. The bathroom, which also served as a toilet, the small living room where only a desk, a commode and a sofa could fit, and his bedroom, which consisted of a wall cupboard and a large double bed. He made his way into your room, silently hoping that you were sleeping peacefully, cuddling your tail. But the sight that greeted him was far different from the scene he'd imagined. You were awake, and you weren't in bed. You were sitting in front of the French window that led to the little balcony that Jake didn't like all that much. You, on the other hand, loved to groom yourself there in the afternoons, when the sun was at its zenith, rocking you in its comforting warmth.

He ignored this strange situation, which should have set him thinking, and only glanced outside through the closed window, oblivious to the faint night-light lit in the opposite building. He stroked your head and you gasped, raising your big dilated eyes to him. Ah, Jake felt so loved. Smiling, albeit tiredly, he lifted you into his arms, closing the window curtain with a quick tug, again oblivious to the way your ears had briefly folded.

"I'm sorry Baby, I'm just trying to do something nice for the both of us, didn't mean to snap at you like that." He set you down on the bed then slumped over you, blowing playfully on your face to see your face contort into the little grimace he loved so much.

You fidgeted, trying to push his face away from yours so he'd stop tickling you by rubbing his face against yours. You didn't hold a grudge and loved him so much that you couldn't bear to stay angry with him for more than a few minutes. Scratch that, you'd never been angry with him. "It's 'kay Jakey."

A few minutes passed as he stroked your hair affectionately, then he stood up and undressed, keeping only his boxers on, before snuggling up to you, whispering in the hollow of your ear, "I love you Baby, hope you know it."

And you smiled, rubbing your head against his cheek, wrapping your arms around his torso and your tail around his leg before whispering "I love you too Jakey..." between two purrs.

D-7

It was time for Jungwon to come and perch on the balcony, watching you brush or bask in the sun. It was a routine, an unspoken thing between the two of you. One would always wait for the other, lie down or sit on the balcony, ears perked up and eyes fixed on the opposite window, watching for the slightest movement. This time Jungwon had arrived much earlier, somewhere around eleven a.m., impatiently waiting for you to come and sit on the floor of your balcony. As usual, you opened the balcony when the sun was high in the sky and sat gracefully on the floor, which incidentally didn't look at all comfortable for something as precious and beautiful as you. Well, that was just Jungwon's opinion.

The black cat knew that you didn't live alone, and many clues told him that you were in the same situation as he was. There was a good chance that you were living at someone's expense, Jungwon was even sure of it, he had seen the same male silhouette several times when he sat in front of the balcony window late at night. With the night and the lack of light, he hadn't been able to clearly make out the person taking care of you, but from the way your bushy, radiant tail had dulled, he was sure this person was an idiot. Jay would have taken better care of you and never let you sit on the floor, even if it meant covering their whole apartment with carpet or rugs that were far too luxurious.

Pushing those ideas out of his mind, hiding those scenes he'd imagined, the ones where he'd carry you off and lock you in his room, grooming and pampering you for hours on end, he did what he did best in your presence, looking into your eyes with such admiration and purity that his owner would have been almost disgusted. A few times, you'd lift your gaze from your tail and dare to meet his eyes, but immediately your cheeks would flush and you'd decide that the sky was far too beautiful to ignore today. But a few minutes later you looked at him again, a few seconds longer, before avoiding his gaze. But Jungwon was satisfied with just those few seconds. He was sure that, in time, you'd finally be able to look him in the eye just as he looked at you, and you'd see the way he'd blink slowly, or make himself smaller, rolling onto his back, presenting you his favorite stuffed toy.

But he was already satisfied with the progress he'd made that week. For the first two days, you confined yourself to sitting on the edge of the door, making it clear that you didn't trust him. Even when you stared at a fixed point behind him, pretending to look at him so as not to appear intimidated, your face forming a pout that was meant to be frightening, Jungwon couldn't help finding you beautiful and adorable. You sat there all afternoon, staring at this fixed point. On the third day, you decided to ignore him, but this time you brought back your brush, which by the way seemed to be damaged. You didn't give him a single glance, but Jungwon was satisfied to see you sitting far enough away from the door, closer to the glass barrier that prevented you from falling into the green grass below your feet. And since then, you'd always settled into your usual place, leaning against the wall, watching the birds fly overhead or stroking your tail again, tirelessly.

It was a habit that Jungwon had initially found beautiful and cute, but now he couldn't help but feel worried. A strange feeling bubbled up inside him, his instincts screaming at him to stop your tireless gesture. After all, despite the time you spent brushing your appendage, Jungwon had noticed that it wasn't looking any better. On the contrary, the color of your tail was fading a little more every day, and so was the amount of hair. What worried him most was your left ear, which seemed to be losing a little more hair every day. The cat had noticed your annoying habit of vigorously scratching your ear when you were lost in thought, or when your ears suddenly twitched. You scratched your ears nervously before hurriedly getting up and leaving the balcony. Jungwon wouldn't see you again until the following day.

Lying on his stomach, sighing with contentment, not once taking his eyes off you, Jungwon suddenly had an idea when he saw you fidgeting on the spot, readjusting your position. He suddenly stood up, catching your eye and your curious gaze, before rushing into the apartment.

The instant he disappeared, you sat bolt upright, startled. A million thoughts raced through your mind. Had you been too hostile ? Not welcoming enough ? Hadn't you shown him that his presence soothed you ? Were you not good company ? A strangled cry akin to a distressed mewl almost escaped your throat, but you held it back, almost choking. You crawled forward, approaching the barrier, putting a hand on it, about to stand up, when he suddenly reappeared, a laptop that would surely cost Jake three rents in hand. Oh, your neighbor across the street must have had a wealthy owner. You shrank a little at the information, suddenly feeling ashamed of your financial situation. But before you could even back away from your spot by the railing, the big, almond eyes of the cat across the street turned to you and lit up like a child's eyes at Christmas.

Faintly, almost indistinctly, you heard a low growl. You flinched, preparing to be spat on for breaking an unspoken rule. But slowly and surely, your brain associated the noise with something very familiar. The same sound that emanated from your throat when Jake gave you attention. The boy across the street had come up to the glass, almost glued his face to it, and was purring. He was happy, just to see you come within a few centimeters even when you were meters away made him happy. Although Jungwon noticed immediately, his heart doing pirouettes, the biggest of smiles on his face, it had taken you ten minutes or so to understand and hear that there wasn't just a rumble in the air. Unconsciously, in response to his joy and soothing signals, you too began to purr. You hadn't purred for two days now. It felt good.

D-9

"Baby ! Did you ordered something ?"

Jake's voice snapped you out of your staring duel with Jungwon, and you pouted and scratched your ear at the satisfied, almost mocking look on the boy's face. Shyly, you gave him a little wave and a little smile, letting your tail slide along the glass plate before rising lazily from the floor. Whereas a few days before you'd jumped up to greet the Australian, this time you'd hesitated. You turned around a few times, took two steps back and then one forward, then went inside for good, closing the door behind you.

Jungwon noticed this hesitation and couldn't help smiling smugly, knowing that you'd almost rather stay with him than go back to your guardian. He'd made enormous progress of which he was not just a little proud, and so had had almost no qualms about tracing your curves with his eyes when you'd stood up. His gaze lingered on the curve of your hips. Wide hips and chunky thighs. Able to bear children, survive through pregnancy and give her a litter of kittens.

What ? What !

Jungwon's face paled and he suddenly buried his head in his cushion, muffling his cry at the desperate thought which just crossed his mind unexpectedly. He couldn't understand why he'd suddenly thought of that, he wasn't in heat and he wasn't about to have it. He felt a sudden urge to cuddle, so he went inside to pester Jay to come home.

Jake had asked the question before he'd even entered the house. As he returned from a particularly quiet day, ready to be greeted by your warm arms and soothing purrs, the young man had found a package outside the front door downstairs. Last time he checked, you and he were the only tenants in this building, which was far too shabby to have any other inhabitants, so this package could only be for you. It was a rather large box, and after checking that it wasn't a joke by looking left and right and looking at the address, which surprisingly matched his floor, Jake realized that a note had been added in the delivery instructions.

"For the cat..? What the-"

The Australian had been creeped out at first. Was someone stalking you, his sweet baby ? He had to ask you first before jumping to conclusions. So he'd gone upstairs and called you. But when he turned the doorknob and entered the apartment, he thought for a moment that his lunch was about to go down his throat. You weren't there, behind the door, waiting for him. You weren't waiting for him.

"Jakey..?" You'd asked in a way he knew wasn't a question. You knew he was there, but you hadn't waited for him. Why ?

"Baby ? Everything's all right ? Feeling good ? Not too hot ?" he said dropping the heavy box on the floor to check your temperature.

You leaned in his hand affectionately, humming. He exhaled, relieved, and fail to miss that the usual purring sound wasn't emanating from your throat. And hadn't for a few days.

"There's a box, I think it's for you. Did you ordered something ?"

Horrified, you opened your mouth and eyes wide. You couldn't afford to order something without asking Jake's advice when he was working day and night to provide for you. "No, I swear I didn't Jakey !" You clasped your hands around his, big round eyes looking at his worriedly.

"It's fine baby I'm not scolding you. Well, I think it's for you though so open it and tell me what it is, yeah ? I'll go make some ramens."

You nodded, eyeing the box more than a little warily, taking small steps towards it, nudging it with the tip of your finger before crouching down beside it and looking at it from side to side. You sat cross-legged, your tail wagging lazily behind you, before finally deciding to open it, finding a chisel lying around in the commode to cut off the large piece of scotch tape. After struggling for some minutes, you finally managed to pull out the huge, heavy piece of plastic contained in the box. Just as you were about to rip it open, a sheet of paper fell, landing only a few centimetres from you.

You tilted your head, curious, then picked up the piece of paper, seeing that it was just a blank sheet. Shrugging, you were about to throw it away, only to notice black ink on the back. Turning the paper over, you saw that a message had been typed on the computer.

'A queen-sized fluffy cushion for a glamorous princess. -Jungwon'

You'd never heard or read that name before. But you knew who had sent you the package. Your instincts were screaming it, your heart was singing it and your head was repeating it. He'd probably given you something you couldn't afford, something you and Jake could never afford, but that didn't matter to you right now. What mattered to you was that you could finally put a name to the face you saw every day. You could finally call by a first name the person who reassured and comforted you every day.

"Jungwon. Jungwon… Jungwonnie…"

"Well ? What is it ?" Jake returned to you, two bowls of noodles in hand, and set them down on the small coffee table in the living room.

In your haste, you found yourself hiding the sweet note behind you, discreetly sliding it under the sofa. Immediately, a feeling of guilt grabbed you by the throat and made you nauseous, your stomach churning at the mere idea that you'd just hidden something from your owner, from Jake, your best friend. You smiled hesitantly, wishing his fatigue would make your smile believable, before opening the large laminated package in the middle of the living room. Immediately, an atrophied cousin stretched out to its full length, swelling with every passing minute under your two startled gazes. The cushion was as fluffy as you could wish for, but above all, it was huge. Very huge.

"Wow, that's impressive." Jake said, bewildered at the mere sight. He leaned over the pillow and rested his hand on it, then his eyes opened wide at the sensation of the soft, squishy material beneath his fingers. He felt as if the pillow were enveloping his hand, beckoning him to sleep on it, or to rest on it without moving for hours. "Even though it's nice and obviously super expensive, it's not ours, we should send it back." Jake concludes with a shrug, already preparing to repack the package as best he can.

But that's without counting on your quick reflexes and 'soften Jake' skills. You threw yourself into his arms, burrowed in and affectionately rubbed your head in his neck. Your big, bright eyes looked up at him, pleading. "No ! I like it ! Can we keep it ?"

"Baby, it's not ours, someone must be looking for it…"

"It says for the cat ! Must be for me, right ?" you whined cutely, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Jake's cheeks flushed and he felt his body and mind playing tricks on him. When did you get so cute ? When did you grow up so much ? Since when did you know how to use your charms ? "Baby, it means that some creep is looking at you." He cup your face, looking into your eyes, worried, "You'd tell me if someone was making you feel uncomfortable, right ?"

"Sure Jakey !" you purred, batting your eyelashes and smiling cutely. You innocently pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips before continuing "But I really, really like it ! Just this once ? Pretty please ?"

Jake hugged you tightly, hiding his blush in the crook of your neck, hoping you couldn't feel his heart beating faster, threatening to escape his chest. He mumbled, "Just this once…", and you squealed out of pure joy, purring loudly while throwing yourself into your new bed, rolling in it.

"I love you Baby."

"Oh this is so fun !"

Jake felt his insides twist and his eyebrows furrow. You always responded to his 'I love you's. Since you were just babies, you always responded, and sometimes you were even eager to be the first to say it. The Australian felt confused but most of all hurt, didn't you love him anymore ? Figuring you probably hadn't heard him, he repeated himself, raising his tone slightly, "Baby, I said I love you."

"Hmm ? Oh, I love you to Jake !"

Yeah, you just hadn't heard him.

D-12

"Peek-a-boo!"

Jungwon heard you giggled from across the garden and smiled, proud of himself for being able to make you laugh like that. He hid behind the glass door again, waited a moment, waiting for your breath to stop for a few seconds, as it did every time he disappeared, then emerged from behind the door with a leap, faking claws and growling playfully.

"Rawr !" you said back, imitating him, but not in a moronic or infantile way, but rather amused, perhaps even mocking. But the black cat would gladly be the target of your mockery if it meant hearing your laughter over and over again. He thought he could be satisfied with seeing you lying in that cushion he'd chosen for you, and he had been. For about five minutes. He'd seen you looking up at him with your big round eyes, then you'd blinked slowly, then stretched out full length in his present, presenting your belly to the sky and to him. Jungwon was no longer satisfied. At that moment he had decided to give you the world and more.

So, what was supposed to be just one bed, had turned into a brand new brush made from the softest, most hybrid-friendly materials, then a new range of coat care products, which you diligently applied every night so that Jungwon would see that you cherished and cared for what he was offering you, to indicate to him that you accepted his advances. And this morning you'd received a ton of clothes, luxurious brands or not, cute, black, pink, tracksuits, sweaters, skirts. But Jake hadn't seen any of it, at least not yet. You knew it annoyed him that he didn't know where all these gifts had come from, since they were obviously for you, but he was far too busy with his studies and work to investigate seriously.

All these gifts were accompanied by cute notes written on the computer or appearing on the delivery instructions. You kept them carefully between a pile of your clothes, and tried to imagine Jungwon's voice, which you'd only heard a few times before. His voice was light and comforting, like a sea breeze in midsummer, and you wished you could hear it again and again, but unfortunately you both spent your time absorbing the sun's rays or playing in silence.

'Kitten must take care of herself to be the prettiest cat. -Jungwon' 'Your tail looks ravishing, just like you... -Jungwon' 'Saw this skirt and thought aout you, you'll be the prettiest kitten in it ! -Jungwon'

It was feeding your ego, making you feel better about yourself. And spending days just lying in the sun, knowing that Jungwon was right next door, was probably the most relaxing part of your daily routine. And yet, a hollow in your heart seemed to grow with each passing day. Your heart had room for many, of course, but that also meant that Jungwon was no substitute for Jake. And every day he neglected you was a day your mood worsened. He'd probably noticed that you'd stopped coming to say hello and just waited for him in the living room, that you smiled without any real zest when he stroked your ears. Although, on Jake's part, maybe he hadn't noticed any of that.

"Oh, hi ?"

A very familiar voice startled you and you turned at full speed towards the balcony doors, Jake's silhouette awkwardly holding onto them, trying not to step on your bed. He wasn't looking at you, he was looking at the cat in front of him, he was looking at Jungwon. And Jungwon was looking at him. Just when he thought he'd be angry and probably hiss at your owner, Jungwon surprised himself by saying nothing. He simply tilted his head left and right, examining the newcomer up and down.

"Thought I heard you laugh so I came here to check because I don't know what happened to our living room. But I think-" he looked at your big round and surprised eyes and then at the black cat in front of you, then his gaze fell on the same cushion you had, and he had a revelation. "I think I know who your secret admirer is, now…"

Jake nervously ran his fingers through his hair, not even sure why he was nervous, then sighed heavily. "Hum, excuse me, are you the one sending us all those stuffs..?"

Silence answered him and your gaze kept alternating between Jungwon and Jake, both silently looking into each other's eyes before Jake let out an embarrassed laugh. Jungwon didn't really know what to say: should he tell him the truth ? Lie ? He felt a little intimidated too, the man beside you was so handsome, with a pretty nose, high palmettes and a sharp jaw. But he didn't want you to get into trouble so he nodded silently, cautiously, tail wagging rapidly behind him, anticipating what was going to happen next.

"Okay~…" Jake nodded, dragging the 'o'. He recognized some of those quirks and habits the black cat had that you had yourself. And from the comfort in which he himself was ensconced, he was probably an indoor cat, like you. "You're kinda cute y'know ?" Jake said as a matter of fact, nodding to himself.

Well, Jungwon wasn't expecting that. He hid his blushing cheeks behind his much too large sleeves, annoyed at the male laughter that escaped from your owner. It was cute, Jungwon shouldn't find it cute.

"I'm Jake by the way. Bold of me to assume this but…can I talk to your- hum…caretaker? Don't wanna sound rude."

Jungwon contemplated his options. He could lie and play the card of the independent hybrid deeply revolted by his words just so he could blow him off. Or, he could get into your owner's good graces so he could woo you without fear of him interfering. Both options seemed equally tempting. Finally, he opened his mouth, speaking just loud enough for you to hear. "He's not here, he's working."

"Do you know when he'll come back?"

"In an hour or so."

"Okay, see ya then." Jake nodded, patting your head to gain back your attention. It was painful watching you gawk at the boy in front of both of you like this, with so much care and adoration. Now that he saw you looking at someone else in this way, Jake realized that it had been a few days since he'd seen that look in your eyes when he came home. Was the cat the reason ? An ugly and unfamiliar green feeling crept up his throat and choked him, leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mouth at the sudden realization that you no longer found interest in him since you'd found another playmate. "Come on Baby let's go home."

Jungwon's ears perked up even more at the nickname Jake had for you. Oh, he knew you were kind and sweet, but hearing Jake call you that only confirmed his certainty. Even though he'd abandoned you for days, you still tolerated him calling you by that affectionate nickname. You were adorable. Jay, for less, would already have had to redo his dressing room because of his anger.

But you ? You were so nice and pliant. So 'Baby' material. Jungwon was sure you would be too, behind closed doors. That you'd bend over for him, call him and meow his name like a cat in heat, waiting for him to take care of you and fill you with his kittens. He knew you'd take whatever he gave you without ever complaining, wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, let it be in the shower or in the kitchen. He knew you'd let him fuck you in your new bed so both your smells would soak up and mingle, that you'd let him cover you and spread his cum all over your body so everyone would know you belonged to him. And that then you'd lick his dick clean with both your cum before pushing your hips towards his again, demanding more, always more, whining and whimpering to be filled with something, anything. Yeah you were a Baby, but above all you were his Kitten, his breedable Kitten. You would carry his kittens so well.

"Hi ?"

"Hi ! I'm sorry I know it's late but I really really need to talk to you. Can you get down ?" Jake asked awkwardly and hurriedly. A morbid silence answered him and he facepalmed, electing that he'd forgotten the most important piece of information. "I'm your not so new neighbor by the way."

"…I'm coming."

Jake waited a few moments outside the building similar to his own, enjoying the welcome coolness of a spring's night, when suddenly the front door opened, the sound of flip-flops reaching his ears, making him turn around.

"Oh bro you're handsome !" Jake gasped, one hand in front of his mouth, looking his neighbor up and down. He wasn't much more dressed up than that, just a gray T-shirt and black shorts, with Nike flip-flops. And yet, his fine features and discreet but prominent muscles were enough to make Jake think that his profession was modeling.

The latter arched an eyebrow, not in the least impressed, as if he received this compliment every day, and waited patiently for the young man in front of him to recover from his emotions.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I'm Jake." Jake said, extending his hand toward the boy in front of him, who gave it a firm, deft shake.

"You have a bit of an accent ?" Jay asked, recognizing an accent he couldn't put a name to. He wasn't used to running into people who spoke English this well in South Korea outside of the workplace.

"Oh I'm Australian, moved here and here in Korea, and then-" he pointed to the apartment parallel to his own, "here. Been a while actually, but I didn't know I had neighbors until, well, two hours ago."

"Yeah sorry. Should have introduced ourselves properly but no one told me new people would move in. Are you with your girlfriend ? Or boyfriend, not judging or something. Or single ?"

Jake tilted his head, confused by the sudden question, but still kept a friendly smile and replied, "No, she's my- wait it feels weird to say it like that but I can't find a better explanation at the moment. I'm with my cat hybrid."

"You have a cat hybrid ?" Jay's hitherto almost bored gaze seemed to light up a little, genuinely interested in this new information. "Me too." he smiled, thinking about what Jungwon could be doing at the moment.

"Well, I kinda know. Thought you knew that there was a cat in front of your house too…?" Jake said almost hesitantly, gauging his reaction before dropping the bomb. Clearly he didn't seem to know what was going on between their two cats. "That's why I'm here actually…"

"What ? Did something happened ? This brat spend half his day on the balcony and the other half in my arms, surprisingly. He can be a bit rude at times, did he offended her ?"

"Oh no he's a sweetheart ! It's just that- Hum, your cat is-" Jake stuttered, biting his lower lips in order to hide his embarrassment. What he was about to say was weird, he knew it. And he hated the fact that it was their first time meeting each other, it somehow made it worse. "Well, he's showering mine in gifts. Clothes, selfcare products, books..."

"He's what now ?"

"He's treating my girl. Thought it was some random fan who thought that she was pretty, but turned out your cat was the fan."

"Oh." Jay honestly didn't know what to say. He felt embarrassed, his face had paled even though he was still cool and composed. His cat was spending lavishly on the new neighbor's cat. The American had expected a lot, but certainly not this.

"Don't get me wrong, it's not a problem. I mean, for us, don't know about you. Or it wasn't. Because he shopped some pretty good clothes actually, for my girl, and she's overjoyed and all ! But our apartment is way too small and I can barely step in the living room without walking on a new book or a new package. I'm sorry, you'll have to tell him to stop sending those, otherwise we'll have to donate them."

"Oh gosh this is so embarrassing."

"Nah bro we good don't worry, my cat is pretty shy and all, she never talk to anyone, but I think she's really good friend with yours. It was pretty cute honestly."

"Is she ? That's sweet then. But I'm still sorry, I'll go and talk some sense into him."

"Okay. Well, have a good night, sorry that we have to met like that."

"Me too."

Jay stood in the same spot, pondering his life choices. You definitely had to have something to do with Jungwon's sudden change in behavior, and you had to be as sweet as Jake claimed if Jungwon had stopped breaking his glasses overnight. Now he was curious. Watching Jake's silhouette as he prepared to disappear into the shabby building that served as an apartment complex, Jay made up his mind and ran after him, holding the door behind the Australian.

"Sorry ! I'm Jay, came from America."

Jake turned and smiled brilliantly at the boy in front of him, greeting him with an awkward wave of the hand, clearly pleased with the initiative Jay had taken.

"Can we exchange phone numbers ?"

"Yeah, sure Jay."

"Who are you texting ? And why are you giving me the cold shoulder ?" Jungwon whined, wiggling on the couch to be closer to his owner.

Jay hummed and suddenly laughed, as if what he'd just seen was the funniest thing ever. Jungwon frowned, annoyed at being ignored. Two weeks earlier he wouldn't have cared, but now he felt an urge to knock the glass off the table to get the American's attention.

"Jay~!"

Jay sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly annoyed at his cat's antics. "I'm texting our neighbor."

The cat's ears perked up at the mention of the apartment opposite theirs, curious as to how and why Jay had decided to keep talking to your owner. It wasn't in his nature to want to make friends with people. He wasn't an introvert, but he didn't like being around a lot of people either. "The one from the apartment in front of ours ?"

"Well, he's the only neighbor we have." Jay answered, rolling his eyes. He knew he was being petty but he couldn't help it after the stunt Jungwon pulled. "Actually, let's talk about them." Jay frowned and put his phone down on the coffee table, resting his chin on his joined hands, looking at the younger man with a sharp gaze. The latter looked at him, round-eyed, confused and alarmed at his friend's sudden change of attitude, and fidgeted awkwardly in place, his tail wagging nervously at his side. "When were you planning to tell me about those…presents ? Or about the cat across the garden."

"Oh."

"Oh, in fact. Jake told me that their apartment is full of presents, they can barely walk in there."

"I was just taking care of her ! She seemed really uncomfortable and annoyed in there."

"Jungwon, she has an owner ! Don't you understand ? It's not our job to take care of her needs !"

"Now you're being selfish." Jungwon scoffed, rolling his eyes and getting up from the couch, ready to ignore what Jay had to say.

"Oh no I'm not done wit you-" Jay stood up in turn and decided to follow him around the apartment. "I don't give a fuck about you spending my money or whatever. I care that you did not said a single thing to me or her owner !"

"Blah, blah, blah!" Jungwon shook his head, making it clear to Jay that he wasn't listening or caring about what Jay had to say.

Jay clenched his fists and took deep breaths to calm the anger boiling inside him. He didn't want to say something he'd regret later and risk betraying the trust his mischevious cat had in him. So he decided that leaving to think things over was the best thing to do. "Oh wanna act like a child ? I'll treat you like one then."

Jungwon turned abruptly, a plea on the tip of his lips as he watched the American leave, but his ego got the better of him. He exhaled heavily and went off to perch on his mezzanine, trying to get some sleep.

D-13

The next day, when you woke up groggy, an unbearable headache made it hard to breathe without feeling a burning in your nostrils. The lights seemed too bright even though Jake had taken care to keep the curtains closed, and your senses were in overdrive. Especially your sense of smell, which, between Jake's scent and yours around you, managed to discern another odor. Acrid and bitter, unpleasant and almost suffocating despite the little you inhaled. But above all, a familiar smell. One you'd learned to recognize with your eyes closed, that of Jungwon. Except now it was laced with notes of anger and pain, and it made you want to jump over the balcony to go find him and make him feel better. It didn't matter how.

You stood up and quickly washed your face, then quickly headed for the French window without even eating. You couldn't wait to see him sitting on the other side, so maybe you could comfort him ? But the sight that greeted you left you perplexed, but above all hurt, sad and alone. Opposite you, the cushion on which Jungwon used to rest and nap was missing. Only the cold concrete graced you from its sight, as well as that of the white electric shutter, closed completely. Maybe it was too early. Maybe he was just having a bad dream. But all the same, the sight of his missing pillow gave you a feeling of anxiety that almost made you nauseous.

You fetched your alarm clock and set it down in front of you, sat cross-legged and waited patiently for Jungwon to open the glass doors and greet you with a smile, tired perhaps, but a smile all the same. But it didn't happen. As you stood motionless, staring at the doors, hoping to see the person you were waiting for, the world around you continued to turn. Gradually, the refreshing breeze had turned to stifling heat as the sun continued to race across the sky. 9:30 a.m. soon became 11:30 a.m. , and then 1:30 p.m. , and then 3:30 p.m. . The sun was at its peak and your lips were beginning to chafe from lack of hydration. A dull ache in your head made your eyes heavy, but you managed to keep awake by clumsily scratching your right ear, ignoring the sensation of warm liquid running down them as you scratched for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. In the meantime, you'd spent the whole day tirelessly brushing your tail, ignoring the clumps of hair accumulating at your feet.

As your eyelids grew heavy, a piercing pain running up and down your head, a sudden movement opposite caught your attention. You winced at the sensation of your right ear twitching, but your eyes didn't move once from the repetitive movement opposite. In fact, it wasn't a movement, just a noise. Since this morning you'd been hearing faint sounds from the other side, too well muffled by the glass for you to make out, but this one was loud. Louder and louder, in fact. As if someone were banging on glass, over and over again. A high-pitched screeching noise made your eye twitch, but you leaned forward anyway, hopeful. You were sure it was Jungwon.

"Jung-…" you murmured softly, your voice cracking from lack of hydration and speech - you'd been mute for a whole day after all, hadn't uttered so much as a sound. Saying that syllable felt like a mouse had lodged itself in your throat and was trying to claw its way out. It was a dull, burning pain, heightened by the feeling of discomfort you'd been feeling for an hour now. And yet, you did your best to pronounce his name.

"Jung- Jung...won..."

It was the first time you'd ever called him. You wished it had been under different circumstances, but every time the opportunity arose and he stood in front of you, that word stuck in the hollow of your throat and your face flushed as if someone had whispered the worst obscenities to you. But this time it was different. Even though, as before, you felt the word was stuck in the back of your throat, you forced yourself to get it out. It was just a sound, two syllables, a pathetic whimper, but it was enough to make the drumming in front of you intensify.

"Jungwon..?"

"Jungwon ?"

"Jungwon !"

You'd spent the afternoon meowing his name, but never got an answer. You leaned over the balcony, almost fell over, but never stopped calling his name over and over again. At some point, you lost consciousness and your fragile figure sprawled out in your cushion, your eyelids half-open, murmuring the name of the boy across the garden.

It was 6 p.m. and Jay had barely parked his car in front of his apartment when a bad feeling already gripped his gut. In fact, he could only have had a bad feeling when he saw his belongings spread out on the dirty street floor, the window of his apartment wide open. Furious, he climbed the stairs four at a time, eager to give a piece of his mind to Jungwon.

Jay slowly opened the door to his apartment and a scene of war unfolded before his eyes. Slowly, he entered his apartment and his eye twitched at the sound of shattering glass beneath his feet. Lowering his gaze, he found the equivalent of his entire dinner service on his floor, shattered into thousands of pieces, scattered all over his apartment. Moving on, he found his sofa ripped open, his pillows torn to shreds, his curtains slashed and his chairs overturned. Whereas he'd been angry, now he felt more worried than anything else. Sure, Jungwon would break a glass or two when he was upset, but he'd never turned his apartment upside down like that, let alone thrown his stuff out of the window.

Walking briskly to his cat's room, he wasn't surprised to find him snuggled up in his fur comforter on top of the mezzanine, his back to the door. Hesitantly, he entered the room, but stopped short at the sound that greeted him as soon as he stepped inside. Jungwon was growling. His cat was growling at him. It was the first time this had ever happened and it was frightening. Not because he was afraid of what Jungwon might do to him, but rather because he was afraid their relationship was reaching a point of no return.

The American took small steps backwards, gently so as not to upset his friend, any thoughts of scolding him gone with the sigh he'd let escape once out of the room.

"Oh gosh…" he sighed, massaging his temples before grabbing his phone, making a call.

As he slumped into what was left of his couch, completely overwhelmed by the events, his attention was drawn to a strange and albeit slightly horrifying sight.

"Clinique Inter-species hello ! How can I help you ?"

Jay didn't even notice the other voice on the other end of the line and stood up cautiously, approaching the crime scene. Then, in a flash, everything connected in his head. The way Jungwon had acted today. it was all his fault, he'd reacted badly to the news yesterday and made an impulsive decision that put you all in a difficult situation.

"Hello ?"

"Yes ! Good evening, excuse me, I'd like to make an appointment as soon as possible for a cat hybrid please."

"Ah… I'm afraid you won't have an appointment for another week. Could I have your name and the name of the hybrid ?"

"Park Jongseong, the hybrid's name is Yang Jungwon."

"Oh Mister Park ! We have room tomorrow morning if you want it ?"

"Thank you. Have a nice day."

Jay didn't wait for the hostess's reply before hanging up, a grimace on his face at the way she'd completely changed her attitude at the mention of his first name. Money could work miracles. But he couldn't dwell on that insignificant detail. Not when the French window leading to the balcony had multiple cracks in it, one of his gold trophies laying next to it on the ground. Everything made sense now.

You felt yourself being shaken back and forth before a strange sensation made you feel as if you were floating. Your limbs and tail dangled lethargically, and you were now sure that someone was carrying you. Far too woozy to open your eyes, you still felt your eyelids twitch at the bright light that seemed to be right in front of you. You wished you could curl up in a ball in the sheets beneath you to hide and mope in silence, but even lifting a finger seemed too much effort.

Soon enough, your senses awoke to the sound of hurried footsteps left and right, then a cool sensation on your forehead made you sigh with contentment. Delicately, you felt a cold cloth drape over your face, bringing a welcome coolness, and you couldn't help but lean into the sensation, a frown still on your face.

"Come on, I know you're there, wake up !"

You blinked once, twice, weakly before finally opening your eyes once your vision adjusted to your surroundings. Above you, Jake's terrified face greeted you and you couldn't help but let out a confused squeak. Why did he look so worried ?

His arms engulfed you and you inhaled deeply, your nose curling up at the pungent scent Jake's distress was emitting. But you didn't have the heart to push him away after seeing his eyes glistening with tears. He may never have been around, but you loved him all the same. He was your Jake.

"What's happening Jake ?" you voice came out horse and you coughed, gulping your saliva in order to quench your thirst.

Delicately, the Australian put you in a sitting position and rushed into the kitchen to bring you a large bottle of water. He sat down beside you on your bed and, having opened the bottle, brought it to your lips with one hand, the other resting behind your neck, supporting your head.

"Drink."

You could have protested and sulked, but Jake's tone, one you'd never heard before - demanding and commanding, left you no choice but to tentatively open your lips, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he helped you drink. You'd needed to get sick and dehydrated to realize that your best friend was handsome. From the features of his face to the way he frowned, or his long, thin, veined fingers, he truly was a work of art despite being a broke and single student.

Your cheeks reddened at these thoughts and you couldn't help wanting to pull your head away from his grip, whimpering like a child for him to let you go. But Jake was having none of it, "Drink or I'll force you."

Pouting, you gulped the water that flowed into your mouth, an adorable pout on your face that made a smile escape Jake despite his concern, "There you go, that's my good girl."

You almost spat all the water in your mouth or choked with it, ears folded over your skull as you did whenever you felt particularly shy or embarrassed. This caught Jake's attention and he couldn't help but open his mouth wide, horrified at the sight of the red wound on your right ear, the bloody scratch marks, the bare, red, irritated skin. Yet you seemed oblivious to what had happened to you as you simply stared at him from behind your sleeves, eyes squinting and cheeks flushed.

"What..?"

"Nothing ! You should go to sleep, rest, we'll talk about this tomorrow."

"I don't want to talk about it…" you said like a grumpy cat, laying and showing your back to your friend.

He poked your ribs, making you stifle a laugh, before saying playfully, "Now you're just being bratty. Aren't you my good girl anymore ?"

There was a pregnant silence and Jake wondered if he'd gone too far in his teasing. Maybe you were really angry with him ? Maybe he'd done something to make you feel uncomfortable ? But that thought vanished the instant you turned, sheepishly, and nestled your face in his belly, whispering, "'M still your good girl…"

"I know baby, I love you."

"..."

"I said I love you."

"I know."

Later that night, Jake felt too anxious to sleep. He was trying to figure out when events had taken such a turn, how and why you'd gotten to the point where you'd only said 'I know' when he'd told you he loved you. He'd even let a few tears escape as he disinfected your wound, aware that this first-aid kit was the only thing he could provide when it came to care. He'd let a few tears escape because he knew that your financial situation wouldn't allow him to take you to the doctor. He had replayed the events of the last few weeks in his head and suddenly everything seemed to make a lot more sense. He'd needed you to get sick for him to realize how much he'd neglected you. He was ashamed of himself and of what lack of money had made him. He'd rather eat bread all through college than have to leave you so alone again.

Resolving to quit one of his part-time jobs, he still went to a forum that had advised him many times in the past, hoping that this time again these people could help him.

'Hi everyone. I'm having some problems with my cat hybrid. We've been living together for years now and she's very sweet and affectionate. Recently I've had to work twice as hard to support us so I've not been around too much. I honestly thought that was why she had become so distant. In fact, for several days now, she's been meeting a hybrid cat on the balcony. I think they spend hours there doing and saying who knows what to each other. Recently, I learned that he was the source of many of the gifts we received at home. I wondered if her behavior had anything to do with this boy ?'

He didn't have to wait long for many people to reply, as it turned out that some answers were more useful than others. Some couldn't help but gush over how it was 'cute' while some extremists criticized Jake for being your owner, saying that hybrids had as many rights as humans. But when people actually came up with an answer to his question, it always turned out to be the same one. One that made the Australian's blood boil as it scrolled before his eyes again and again-

D-14

"He's in love."

"Pardon ?"

Jay had no experience or knowledge of hybrids. In fact, he only knew what he needed to know to take care of Jungwon. And even then, he knew what he needed to know to take care of Jungwon's specific needs. And yet, he couldn't help but doubt the doctor's verdict. The verdict from someone who'd studied for years, who'd devoted part of his life to studying hybrids of every size, of every species. Was her cat in love ?

"He's in love, it's as simple as that." the doctor said in a tone of finality, perfectly sure of himself, closing the file dedicated to Jungwon once he'd finished jotting down his diagnosis. Stirring the pot, he continued, smiling, "In fact, I don't think I even need to be a doctor to say that. It's pretty obvious from what you're telling me."

"No but- He-…"

"He can fall in love too, you know ?" The doctor said in a soft voice, a smile that was meant to be comforting on his face. "I know it must feel weird, you've grown up with him and- well, I won't make any assumptions or judgments about the nature of your relationship, but it must feel weird to realize that your little hybrid has grown up and detached himself from you to the point of falling in love with another person, right ?"

Jay remained silent. He didn't think the diagnosis would affect him so much. Nor that the idea of Jungwon in love with someone would give him that feeling, the feeling of being helpless, devoid of words or control over the situation. Then again, he kind of doubted it. No, he knew it. But he didn't want to admit that his little cat had grown so much.

"I suggest you organize a meet up between him and her. Honestly, I can't help feeling concerned about this cat's health. What happened yesterday must have taken a tole on her too. Each person reacts differently."

"So that's it ? The prescription is a meet up between them ?"

"I could tell you the things you want to hear, that it's only temporary, giving you happy pills and suggesting you to prevent him from seeing that girl so you can pretend everything's fine. But here we're acting in the interests of the hybrids and, rarely when the situation arises, their eventual owner. I know you both well enough to know that's not what you want, isn't it Mr.Park ?"

"Right. I'm sorry. Thank you doc."

Jay bowed to the doctor, thanking him again. A silent thank you for helping him think more clearly. He knew he was being selfish, and perhaps if it had been any other doctor who simply gave his client what they wanted, this situation would have ended badly for everyone. Sighing, he headed for the door, accompanied by Jungwon's attending physician, who opened the door for him and shook his hand firmly, wishing him not to see him again any time soon.

Jay looked up from the floor and was greeted by the piercing, grumpy gaze of his cat, causing him to roll his eyes. He was immune to that gaze, but that didn't stop Jungwon from continuing to look at him that way.

"Bye Jungwon ! Can't wait to hear more about her !"

Jungwon bowed in the direction of the man in the white coat, ignoring the burning sensation at the tip of his ears. He turned quickly and left the corridor with a mechanical, embarrassed gait, causing the doctor to laugh and call his next patient.

Jay didn't arrive at the car until a few minutes after Jungwon, sighing as he slumped into the driver's seat. The silence in the car was heavy, Jungwon looking out over the parking lot, brows furrowed and eyes squinting, as Jay recalled his discussion with the doctor. A meet up. He had to organize a meet up. And as fate would have it. As he reached for his phone to send Jake a message, his screen lit up on its own, displaying the Australian's contact alongside a short message.

'Hey hope I'm not disturbing you ?' -Jake 'No, I was about to send you a message' -Jay 'Oh lol' -Jake 'Was thinking' -Jake 'Maybe we could make them meet ?' -Jake

Jay held back his laughter, trying not to attract his cat's sullen mood. Fate really did have a way of doing things.

'Loool, came back from the doc and he said Jungwon needed to meet your girl, was about to text you.' -Jay 'Why were you at the doc ? Is he fine ? 😧' -Jake

'Yeah don't worry.' -Jay 'I was concerned about his behavior, he broke everything in my apartment and tried to break the balcony's window.' -Jay 'Damn 🫢' -Jake 'Ikr' -Jay 'Turns out he was mad because he couldn't see his little girl friend aka your hybrid.' -Jay 'He must really like her lol' -Jake 'Doc said he's in love.' -Jay 'Damn' -Jake 'It's cute 🥰' -Jake

'Hmm' -Jay 'You think you can be in the garden by the time we come back home ?' -Jay 'Wait' -Jake 'We're allowed in there ?!' -Jake 'Didn't you read the lease ?' -Jay 'I did' -Jake 'Not 🫥' -Jake 'Well, now you know.' -Jay 'You can enter through the little wooden gate, it's always open.' -Jay 'On it bro 🫡 ' -Jake 'Thanks bro' -Jay

"What are we waiting for?" Jungwon huffed, eyeing Jay up and down, frowning at the sight of his friend smiling at his phone.

Jay turned and put his phone down beside him, shaking his head before putting on his seatbelt and starting the car. He knew he was being petty by not answering Jungwon, but he couldn't help thinking back to the damage the cat had done to his apartment and having a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He wouldn't try to ease the tension, even if the journey to their apartment was long. In fact, it was a good thirty-minute drive from the city center, as the two neighboring buildings stuck out like a sore thumb in the countryside around Seoul. No neighbors around, just the two of them. Well, just the four of you now.

"Come on Baby, we'll go out and breath some fresh air." Jake said as he lay down next to you, huffing at the feel and comfort of his bed. If he could, he would have used his weekend to lounge around his apartment, carrying you like a baby koala wherever he went, playing with you and kissing your face. But your condition was worrying, and although he had no desire to, he knew that the only cure for your malaise might well be the cat across the garden. He was jealous, it's true. To the point of tucking your tiny figure under one of his oversized sweaters and repeating dozens of times that he loved you between two smoochies on the cheeks. But he always wanted what was best for you.

"Where are we going..?" you asked, yawning like the tired kitty that you were. You felt the urge to just lay on the balcony and sunbath while waiting for Jungwon to come out. It'd been two days since you'd seen him, and you felt as if with every passing minute a gaping hole in your stomach was getting bigger and bigger. You felt empty. So you didn't even know what state you'd be in if Jake wasn't by your side.

"The garden." Jake said, beaming as he took a cap, putting it on his head before turning right and left, looking for his keys.

"The one under the balcony ?" It had caught your eye. That famous garden that separated you from Jungwon had always caught your eye. The grass was just the right height for you to feel like rolling around and lying in it for hours, and pretty flowers lined the poor, dull, moth-eaten wooden fence that connected the two buildings. You didn't know you were allowed to go there.

"Yup." he nodded, patting the pockets of his jacket, still looking for his keys, growing more frustrated with each passing second. "Have you seen my keys ?"

You looked up from the shoes you were putting on and scanned the room, searching your memory to see where he'd lost his keyring. Again. "In the trophy."

He tilted his head, confused as to why he would have put them there but went anyway, trusting your memory. Again. A big smile stretched his lips as he found his keyring and came over to kiss your forehead, hugging you. He loved being extra clingy with you. "Thank you Baby. What would I do without you ?" And the thought crossed his mind. What would he do without you ? Where would he be ? He remembered that there had been times in his life, hard, testing and challenging, when your cute face and comforting cuddles had gotten him out of a lot of trouble. He was the caring, respectful person he is today, partly thanks to you. So what would he do if you decided to be independent and leave him for someone else ? For that cat ?

"Jake?"

He didn't want to overthink it, but the simple fact that you no longer cuddled him before bed, that you no longer wanted to play with him, that you no longer said I love you to him, and especially that you no longer called him by that nickname you'd first called him with when you were still just kids made him feel abandoned. But he knew he was only reaping what he had sown. He'd abandoned and neglected you, you had every right to do so too.

"Jake, should we head outside?"

And yet you never raised your voice at him, never cried your woes to anyone who would listen, and you were patient, oh so patient even though sometimes Jake lost patience with himself. You were sweet, adorable, innocent. So corruptible that he wanted to tuck you under his arms and protect you from the world. But you were a woman, not the baby he cradled in his arms anymore.

"Yeah, let's go."

You went down the stairs and out through the front door, since the only way into the garden was through the gate onto the main street. Well, rather than a street, it was the only road leading to your poor apartment complex. As you walked at your own pace, Jake kept the conversation going. Finally, it wasn't long before you arrived in front of the verdant garden. The door was already open, the latch rusted to the point of falling off when Jake pushed open the little door.

"Nice ! It's actually quite pretty." Jake said as he took the first step, smiling brightly as his gaze fell on every little thing that stood out in the garden, especially the pretty weeping willow that stood between the two buildings, at the other end of the entrance, close to the fence that overlooked a huge field and a forest not far away. It was charming. As he was about to go and explore the garden, he felt your small hand grip his, lacing your fingers. He turned around big rond and heart shaped eyes, and felt his heart filling up with joy and love at your cuteness overload. You were looking at him with your doe eyes, wiggling, one of your hand playing with the hem of the sweater that Jake gave you as your cheeks were reddening because of embarrassment.

"I wanna explore with you..." you pout, getting closer to him and hugging his arm.

That one sentence was enough to make all the negative thoughts lingering in his mind go away and make his heart leap out of his chest. Even after everything that had happened, he was reassured to know that he was still the person you turned to when you were looking for a feeling of security. He was happy and glad to be your safe place and hoped to remain so for as long as you wanted.

"Of course Baby let's go, I'll follow you wherever you wanna go."

So you began your little tour, gently pulling Jake by the hand so he'd follow close behind. You hadn't been out for three weeks because you didn't feel like it, but the sensation of the grass tickling your calves gave you a serotonin boost. Your heart filled with joy at the sight of life around you, insects flying and birds singing. You couldn't help but crouch down to look at the flowers every time you passed a pretty bush. There were flowers of every color and kind, and you were surprised to see that they were so pretty and, above all, in such good condition, since it had been days since it had rained and the sun had been beating down hard. Normally, they would have dried out. But they were strong and radiant.

Jake held back a laugh and quickly grabbed his phone, taking a picture of you encouraging flowers without context. He knew you loved flowers, and you were taking particularly good care of a drooping plant he'd given you a few months ago. It had grown surprisingly well, perhaps because you said good morning to it every morning and good night every evening, under his amused gaze.

Humming, you continued on your way, soon losing yourself under the mass of Weeping Willow vines, taking Jake with you. You felt as if you'd arrived in a new world. The tree was so imposing that the shade it provided beneath it had managed to keep a certain coolness in the hollows of its branches. The branches weren't very high, either. In fact, you could easily climb them with a minimum of effort. Which you wouldn't do, because you weren't keen on soiling your clothes in order to get a better perch. Your balcony was good enough.

"Oh, it's really cool here. I can picture two chairs just right here." Jake said excitedly, pointing at a random place near the trunk. "Sipping lemonade and enjoying the weather-" He then kissed your knuckles then your cheek, grinning, "-and your company."

You fought the blush that crept up your neck, deciding to ignore him and his feeble protest. But suddenly, a noise caught your attention. A creak you'd heard a few minutes before. Then the sound of footsteps muffled by the greenery. You immediately hid behind Jake, relying on his broad shoulders to protect you from whoever was coming in here even though you were literally in the middle of nowhere. Normally, you'd have been able to discern a scent, telling you at least the nature of the person in front of you, but the smell of the flowers was far too stifling.

Jake, on the other hand, didn't seem surprised at all. Even though you couldn't see him, you were sure that a huge smile was gracing his face as warmth and joy emanated from his body in waves, reassuring and comforting. If Jake wasn't worried, you wouldn't be either; you trusted him with your eyes closed.

"Hey bro !"

Still confused, you followed Jake out of the shadows, the world lighting up once more as the sunlight made you squint.

"Hey, sorry we're a bit late." an unfamiliar voice said, deep and almost professional. You now knew it was a man. Probably one of Jake's friends.

"It's fine ! She wanted to explore anyway. Come say hi Baby."

Eyes round as two marbles, you looked up from his back to his head and saw him smiling brilliantly at you, silently encouraging you to take a step forward by moving slightly to the side. You hesitated a little, but took your courage in both hands and stepped forward, remaining at your owner's side.

"Hi..."

You hadn't once looked up from the ground and weren't even sure he'd heard you, your voice was so small. But you didn't miss the way he cooed before trying to hide his chuckle between two coughs.

"Told you she's shy." Jake giggled, hugging you from behind ans resting his head on your shoulder before kissing your cheek and whispering softly "You did great Baby, I'm so proud of you."

You loved it when Jake praised you. Especially after those two grueling weeks when you'd barely been around each other. You felt the impact of his words on you was multiplied by a hundred. Your brain was mushy and fuzzy and butterflies were fluttering in your stomach. You couldn't help the sidelong glance you gave him, your eyes filled with love and respect.

But suddenly, a loud noise caught your attention. A sharp exhalation and a deep inhalation, a low rambling and a soft purring. As if in slow motion, you turned your gaze to the man who had entered the garden but, to your surprise, two people were standing in front of you. The one furthest forward stood out for his height, yet he might as well not have been there, for you didn't even spare him a glance. No, your gaze was fixed on the person behind him. Your gaze flew over the boy's raven locks and pointed ears, gliding down his face, stopping on his beautiful almond-shaped eyes, his pretty pointed nose and prominent cheekbones, before continuing its descent down his torso and stopping on his tail, just as black as his hair, watching the lazy movements it made, swaying left and right.

"Hmm, well... Surprise ?"

You gasp and challenge yourself from Jake's embrace so you can hide behind him, your eyes protruding over the Australian's shoulder, fixed on the slim silhouette of the cat in front of you. But you weren't afraid. Oh no. You felt a shiver of excitement run through you and you felt so joyful that you were convinced that the adrenalin coursing through your body would enable you to run a marathon. With flushed cheeks and blown pupils, you watched as he suddenly froze, surely trying not to make any sudden movements. The silence was heavy, no one daring to speak, not even Jake or Jay, who were busy looking at the cat in front of them. In fact, Jake was strongly restraining himself from pouncing on the smaller boy, engulfing him in his arms and stroking his tail. He was a cuddle bug, that's where you got your clinginess from.

Then, as if nothing had happened, Jungwon headed for the Weeping Willow, walking past you both while your gaze never wavered from him even for a second. He had completely ignored you, spreading the branches so that he could hide among the tree's foliage, far from your three inquisitive and curious gazes. And now mouths agape. Well, Jake and Jay were the only ones who were stunned. He didn't want to put pressure on you and give you time, even though he was eager to approach you. You could tell by the way his pupils were completely dilated as he walked past you, discreetly sniffing your scent, fingers twitching with irrepressible desire.

"This brat-"

"-It's fine don't worry ! She'll come to him whenever she's ready. Should we sit and talk ?" Jake prompted, a sweatdrop on his forehead. He could tell where Jungwon got his character from. At least the little he'd seen of it. Sighing, Jay nodded and followed you as your friend guided you to a remote corner from the tree, having to gently pull you by the hand to get you to move from your spot.

Jungwon had been patiently waiting for at least an hour. He was convinced he'd done the right thing. He didn't want to corner you and wanted you to feel at ease. Surprisingly, this situation left him with a feeling of déjà vu. Like that first time he'd seen you, sitting on the balcony, letting the world enjoy your beauty, gracing him with your sight, even from a distance. You'd gone off to hide like a frightened kitten and never stopped looking at him from behind the wall like a curious kitten. Just like today. Then he'd have to clench his fists and teeth to stop himself from pouncing on you and covering you with his scent, from squeezing you and purring in the hollow of your ears and telling you how cute and pretty you were, how he couldn't wait to be able to touch you. Everywhere.

A sudden movement caught his attention and he fought the urge to sit straight. He couldn't see you, but he knew it was you. That any moment now your adorable face would emerge from between the leaves. So he closed his eyes and waited patiently. He didn't see you, but he heard your breathing grow short, heard the sound of your hands and knees on the cool grass as you slowly approached him. You took one more step every two minutes, and soon enough Jungwon felt you beside him. So close. Your scent filled his senses and you were all he could think about. You, pretty you, darling and cutie you. The only distraction in his world.

"They left- Wanted to eat-"

The information registered briefly in his skull. He vaguely remembered hearing the sound of an engine. But the only thing he wanted to hear was your voice. Sweet voice. Soft voice, whispering and stuttering.

Honestly, if asked, Jungwon would say he didn't know what had come over him. Because from one minute to the next, he'd jerked upright, causing you to squeal and fall backwards. You turned and tried to run away, but a firm grip on your pretty tail prevented you from taking another step away from him. You turned, lips curled as you did your best to hiss at the other cat. But he was having none of it.

As soon as the sound left your mouth, he bent you over, him on top of you, and bit the back of your neck, sinking his little fangs into your flesh as he pushed his pelvis into yours. He didn't know what was happening to him, he just knew it was the right thing to do. He had to subdue you, show you that he was in charge and that this garden belonged to him, that you belonged to him. All of you. His ears were on the lookout for every sound and whimper that escaped your mouth. You were short of breath and jerking vehemently beneath him, clawing at the ground as his two hands held your wrists close to your head.

"Jung- Jungwon !"

"Ah~…" The boy couldn't help but groan at the sound of your name in his mouth. So cute, calling for help to the same exact person who was submitting you. He couldn't get enough of hearing your voice, especially if it sounded so pretty when he was bending you over in front of him. He couldn't help thrusting his hips against yours, rubbing against your bottom as he watched your legs bend under his will, watching that sweater bathed in your owner's scent ride up your thighs, briefly letting him catch a glimpse of your underwear. "Won't you be nice and listen Kitten ? Huh ? Would you do that for me ?"

You didn't answer and instead decided to fight harder, trying to turn the situation around. You felt so vulnerable, so small, and you loved every second of it. But was life without a bit of spices ? Jungwon disagreed. He didn't need spices in his life. He could add some himself, hell, he was the spices. And he'd make you understand, even if it meant leaving dozens of fang marks in the skin of your neck. It was his instinct, after all. So he leaned over and bit you once more, nipping at your skin between his lips. And it seemed he'd hit the right spot as you suddenly stopped moving, your hitherto small pupils dilated and your ears drooped, a low purring emanating from you. Unconsciously your body leaned towards his, your pelvis pressing against his, occasionally shifting against his now hard on.

"Good kitten ! You're such a good kitten !" Jungwon moaned softly in your ear again and again as he was idly rutting his cock on your ass, panting ever so slightly while praising you. He'd succeeded in submitting you to him. You belonged to him. His sweet and cute kitten. His mind was fuzzy, head empty, filled with thoughts of you. Thinking about what he should do next. And then he came to the realization that you were just here, under him, presenting so willingly, not saying a thing and purring as he was mounting you. He could bred you now. You wanted it.

And oh yes you wanted it. You so wanted it. At least, a part of you wanted it. The same part who accepted that he was stronger than you, kept on telling you that he would take care of you. The same part that made you notice how he bent over you, keeping you pinned to the ground while taking care not to crush you, the one that made you notice how he licked your wound carefully, lovingly, a small and pitiful whine escaping from his lips at the sight of your bruised ear. The one that made you notice the way he gently and slowly pushed his hips against yours. You were lost into sub-space, literally, and only wanted to please him. You knew he would take good care of you.

"Want me to breed you ? Please, lemme breed you I beg you. I'll make you feel so good, please, huh ?"

"Wanna be nice..."

"What was that ?"

" Wa-Wanna be nice for you, will you breed me ? Pretty please ? Gon' be the nicest kitten ever !"

Jungwon lost it. You were so cute he almost felt guilty ruining you like that. But who else could make you feel good ? Your owner ? No, even if he used every word of love he wanted to call you, you always went back to see him through the balcony window. He was your priority, your referent, the person you were turning to, pushing your hips against, begging for him to fill you up. He began to lick the juncture between your neck and your collarbone before leaving open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, where the far too large sweater fell loosely.

"Wanna mark you up Kitten, can I ?"

"No! Jake- Don't wan' Jakey to see-"

But it fell on deef ears as the mere mention of the Australian had been enough to piss him off, to make him jealous. He bit your shoulder, leaving two little holes in your skin, making you whimper and complain before licking the two glistening red beads.

"I'm sorry, so sorry, tastes so good, your skin is so soft."

Convinced you wouldn't try to escape, he released your wrist and began to massage your thigh, taking in all the sensations you were procuring him, welcoming them with open arms. His hand moved gently up your thigh, stopping somewhere near your clothed core in order to push your legs apart with a surprisingly strong grip. You arch your back even more, pushing again your hips into his, your tail frantically waving form side to side because of the constant attention your body was receiving.

It all felt unreal, his dick poking your back, his tongue swiping across your skin and his warm hands massaging you, worshipping you as if you were a goddess made of the finest porcelain. You felt loved. Every bit of you, every single nerves were buzzing with apprehension, wondering what he would do next, where his hands would lay, what part of your body would be stroked by his warm and wet tongue. Neediness was overflowing from your body, drenching him in your scent. Aroused, horny.

And you didn't have to wait any longer for his hand to rest on the area where you were suffering the most, where you needed him the most.

"Yes yes yes ! Right here please please please." you moaned desperately, pushing your clothed cunt into his hand, feeling his finger dig into your panties.

"You're so wet… Can feel it through your panties-" he inhaled deeply, his hips pushing against yours on their own as he stifled a moan in the hollow of your neck. "-you're gon' take me so well Kitten…"

You nodded eagerly, fist clutching around a mop of grass, ass pressing against his bulge trying to put something inside of you, anything. Your eyes were misty, your senses alert, the only thing in your world, in your bubble, was Jungwon. Pretty boy from across the garden, nice and sweet indoor cat who grabbed your heart and hid it between his fingers, keeping it warm for rainy days. But now you wanted something else on his fingers.

And he was ready to give you what you wanted and more. So he lifted himself off you for just a few seconds and pulled your sweatshirt up to the middle of your back, his eyes far too lost on your face, drinking in the expressions he wore, this time choosing to ignore the delicious view below. The curve of your buttocks, so pretty in your underwear, pressed right up against his crotch. But that wasn't something he wanted to dwell on. No, your panties were in excess. So with a swift gesture he pulled them down, letting your body feel the coolness of the outside. The wind seemed far too cold against your folds, warm, dripping with juices.

Jungwon was trying as hard as he could to slow down or stop the rhythm of his hips against yours. After all, he had to keep his seed for you, be careful not to lose a single drop, everything had to be inside. With a hand trembling with excitement, he slid his fingers along your folds, gathering all your slick before pushing two inside your hole without even warning you, and not just at the entrance. He pushed them in as far as he could, until his palm was pressed against your pulsing clit. Until you wiggled beneath him, a babbling mess.

"Ngh- Too deep !"

"No, need my Kitten to be ready to take me, right ? You can take it."

You hesitated, briefly trying to stand up only to be pushed back by his torso against yours. He peppered your cheek with kisses, occasionally nibbling at your ear as he was pressing his length against you harder. A silent warning.

"You're gon' be good for me, right ? Want to please me ? I want to please you."

"Yes, want to make you feel good…" you let out in a broken whimper, tears welling up your eyes at how overwhelmed you felt. "Gon' be a good kitten for Jungwon."

And with that, he began to move his fingers in and out of your vagina, in rhythm with the movements of his pelvis. He could feel everything. The warmth of your pussy around his fingers, how warm, spongy and good it felt. His eyes almost rolled back into his skull at the sensation of your walls tightening around him. Your body was so ready for him that his fingers slid effortlessly in and out, your juices dripping on his other fingers, making a mess on his hands. No that he minded. He just wanted to lick it all off, taste the treasure emanating from your private parts and get drunk on it. But the control he had over his body was almost non-existent at that moment.

As your moans gained in intensity, just as a strange sensation seemed to have lodged itself in your belly, he hastily withdrew his fingers from your core. A cry left your mouth so he kissed your head, reassuring you, before pulling down his jogging pants and boxers, just enough for his dick to come out, standing in all its glory. Hard, red, ready and leaking. Those low quality porn and his right hand could never replace you, even if he was surely going to masturbate at the memory of what was going to happen.

You felt his hard and dripping cock on your bare ass and you failed to contain your moan. It was heavy and warm, you just knew it would feel so good inside of you. He grabbed his length and reached between your legs, starting to desperately rub his cock between your folds so that it was drowned in your juices. Slippy and wet so it wouldn't hurt you when going inside. But Jungwon doubted he needed to do that, he was confident he could go straight in without risking hurting you. It was just that little voice in his head telling him to touch you more, to make the moment and the pleasure last. And he'd almost have cum if he hadn't grabbed the base of his cock, squeezing it tightly to keep it from spilling his fluids onto your thighs, biting his lip so hard he'd almost bleed.

"Can I put it in ? Please please."

"Please !"

He exhaled and pressed the tip at your entrance, pushing experimentally, penetrating you only a few centimeters before retracting. His breath was heavy and his palms sweaty, and the cat side of his DNA kept telling him only one thing. Mount… Mount. Mount ! So he did. He mounted you, pushing his dick deep inside you while biting your neck once again, frowning as he was focusing on knocking you up, on filling you with his kittens.

"Thank you, thank you thank you so much!"

He was too a babbling mess. But unlike you, he was present and aware of what he was doing. You ? You were vaguely aware and okay with what was going on, too lost into the subspace to protest or talk anymore. Every word and phrase that tried to come out of your mouth was muffled by your cries of pleasure, your moans just stuck in your throat, begging to be said. And yet, one word wasn't affected by your mutism. You were moaning it again and again.

"Jungwon, Jung-Jungwon-"

"I'm right here. Just- Tryin' to hold myself back."

"Don't ! Going- Gonna take it all ! F'you !"

You were so unfair to him. While he was trying to respect you and your body, you gave yourself the right to be so hot underneath him, driving him to temptation, to ruin you. The kitten whose eyes he hadn't been able to take his eyes off these last few weeks. The one who always smiled shyly at him from his balcony on the other side of the garden. The one who had occupied his thoughts, driving him mad. But if you gave him the right, then he was going to give you back to your owner tainted black and dirtied with his semen.

He didn't even try to pretend to be nice or gentle. You said it yourself, he didn't need to hold back. So he began a merciless rhythm, pounding your flesh hard and fast, drowning in the pleasure he was feeling. He felt like his dick was suffocating in your pussy. Your walls gripped him deliciously hard and your heat made him burn from the inside out. A burning passion alongside his burning love for you, pushing him to go ever harder, ever faster, practically lying on top of you as his feet planted into the ground to get better control over his frantic pace. He felt like he was going crazy, pussydrunk even, even though he always laughed at some of his friends who spent their time talking about sex. He didn't understand its appeal, not even after masturbating. But having you there, underneath him, singing his praises as your body welcomed him in the best way possible, introduced him to a whole new world. He didn't care about sex. What he wouldn't shut up about now was sex with you. And yet, he was far too respectful to talk about this to anyone.

Growling into the back of your neck as he felt his high approaching, his hand covered in your slick, previously resting on your hip, caressed your stomach with his fingertips before finding your bra. He whined, pushing it upward and his warm and wet finger found your nipple, toying with it, rolling it between his finger and tugging at it before he grabbed your whole breast and started to grop it as if it were a stress ball. You gasp and the frenetic movements of your tail redoubled in intensity, the tip of it tickling Jungwon's bare hip. With the minimum of control he had over his tail, he managed to intertwine it with yours in a gesture of pure affection that made you weep softly as your heart overflowed with joy.

All these emotions were bothering you, and you didn't know what to do with yourself. Your mind wandered, dwelling first on the feel of his fingers on your chest, then on his mouth, which had not once stopped nibbling at your skin, before focusing on the sensation in your gut. Like a water balloon that kept swelling as more water was added, fueled by the sensation of his dick rearranging your insides, by the obscene noise your slick and his precum made every time his pelvis met your buttocks in a languorous, precise hip movement. And the position ? You might as well be eating grass, you didn't care if it meant he could have you and you could have him.

"Tiny pussy, dripping for me, so good so so good."

"All for you~!"

"Thank you thank you- Gonna fill you up with my kittens, want' be the prettiest mom ever ? The mother of my kittens ?"

"Yes, please..."

"Don't spill a single drop of it."

On that phrase you felt your insides being painted white, his dick shooting ropes and ropes of his cum into your hole. It was warm and made you feel good, full, dazed in a haze as he was firmly pressing his pelvis on your cunt, wanting everything to be inside. Even fully in he gave one last thrust who made you see the stars as you came undone around his dick, sucking his sperms in as your walls were convulsing and you were mewling, nails dug in the soil to keep you a minimum grounded. He moaned in your ear before affectionately chomping on it, a wide although timid smile on his face.

He waited for your labored breathing to calm before gently withdrawing from you, making you whimper at the overstimulation. "I know, I'm sorry." Carefully, he laid you on your back and straightened on his knees, looking you up and down, trying to burn that image into his retinas. Your face was flushed and your ears folded against your skull, your gaze distant and your eyes heart-shaped. Your sweater was pulled up to your navel, giving him a magnificent view of your ruined and glistening pussy, dripping with your mixed cum, lower lips red and puffy because of how he abused them while slamming his hips into yours. Your pantie was hanging somewhere near your knees and your chest was heaving up and down as you were trying to catch your breath. Soft skin glistening with your sweat, so tempting.

Gently, he pulled up your pantie, putting then back on you, and his hands slid under your cloth in order to put your bra back on too. Frowning, he focused, trying to see what was out of the ordinary. The bite marks he'd left on you were barely visible, he'd made sure his canines didn't inflict a hole bigger than a needle, so your neck was safe. Nothing was out of the ordinary except your totally lost and distant gaze and your flushed cheeks. Oh, wait, there was a little cum on your thigh. With his fingertips he cleaned your skin as best he could before bringing the mixture to his lips and devouring it whole, moaning at the taste of your cum on his taste buds. Voilà ! He could return you as good as new to this 'Jake', the only proof of your intercourse lodged deep in your womb and accumulated in your panties.

He pulled up his stockings in turn and, purring, lay down beside you, occasionally licking your damaged ear while nudging his head on yours. In turn, you snuggled up to him and sighed with contentment, falling asleep in the shade of the Willow, in a warmth that was bearable by his side.

A few minutes later, while you were both asleep against each other, your tails entwined affectionately, Jay and Jake returned from their little escapade with bags of food in their hands, chatting loudly. Jake was pleased to know that despite his cold and distant exterior Jay was in fact a really good person who always had something interesting to say. He hoped to become good friends with him, to discover that side of his personality that made him laugh loudly and swear accidentally in the middle of the street - and maybe also to cuddle Jungwon, he was adorable.

So when their eyes roamed the garden in search of you and they didn't see you, they both knew that their friendship could blossom like your love on that balcony. Sitting down, they lowered the volume of their voices and began their meal, getting to know each other.

D-36

"Come on mate, come down come down, need you right now…" Jake pressed his finger on the intercom button again and again while mumbling, hoping his message would reach his friend's ears faster.

He was in distress. He was praying for the ground to open up beneath his feet or for someone to tell him it was all a bad joke. A nightmare he'd wake up from any minute, be greeted by your pretty face against his chest, eyes blinking idly, mouth opening wide as you're yawning.

"Jake ?"

The Australian turned at full speed towards Jay, who had just emerged from the garage adjacent to his building, and rushed towards him, eyes lost and hands shaking, laughing nervously.

"You're good ? You're a bit pale, wanna go-"

"-My cat's pregnant. Jungwon is the father."

[star-suh]

Taeyong x btm male reader the reader and ty are both leaders of nct and while doing the 24hr reley cam fans see some hickeys on the reader neck and lower stomach while tybhas some on his colorbones...hehe and then we maybe get a flashback when they were getting heated in the living room and then Johnny comes in while he does his reley cam and yeaaa idk tbh feel free to ignore it

Natural Born Fuckers

lee taeyong x male reader

cw: idol au, y/n is part of nct, y/n is also nct's leader, hickeys, top taeyong, blowjobs (both receiving), mating press, breeding, spit kink, sweat kink, marking kink, implied multiple rounds, some johnny sprinkled at the end.

—

the relay cam video of the two leaders of nct has been just released, fans were watching how y/n and taeyong were having fun, laughing, cooking and all those things throughout the whole video until they noticed something. in social media was trending how y/n has some spots in his neck and lower stomach that look like hickeys and taeyong has some on his collarbones too, captions like "tae/n is real", "that should be me", "who's the lucky one?" or "they can top me" accompanied the pics. but what really happened? let's go back to a night before they recorded that fucking video…

y/n and taeyong we're both cooking, between them there was always some sexual tension, constant eye contact and teasing was made between them making everything escalate quickly.

"taeyong pass me the sausage" asked y/n, taeyong wanting to tease him replied "which one" putting his hand on top of his bulge. y/n's eyes widened and he blushed "don't be disgusting" he says grabbing the sausage and taeyong laughed "this one's bigger tho" murmured y/n teasing taeyong back. "shut up, you haven't even seen it" he fought back, "no need to, i just know it" said y/n.

taeyong slapped y/n's shoulder "if you want to see it just tell me" he then grabbed y/n by the jaw and whispered "but you're not going to try it. i know you're going to want it after you see it". they made eye contact and just went with their feelings, a very hungry kiss, teeth clashing between them like they've wanted that for a long time. "if you wanted this… should've told me before young one" says taeyong between kisses, "don't act as if you… didn't wanted this too" replied y/n caressing taeyong's cheeks who grabbed y/n by the neck to deepen the kiss. "let's go to our room" said taeyong panting.

both discarded their clothes while kissing. they were so eager to have sex that they forgot to lock the door… y/n leaned on the bed while taeyong did the same on top of him, kissing y/n in his neck while leaving hickeys "gonna mark you so you can remember this night forever" said taeyong going down y/n's body leaving some kisses and hickeys in his lower tummy, until he reaches y/n's cock and started to suck it "it tastes so good. fuck" said taeyong while staring directly at y/n's eyes like a hunter looking at his prey "don't look at me like that bastard" said y/n shyly covering his eyes with his arm.

taeyong then settled in a 69 pose "go on, suck it" he demanded to y/n who opened his eyes meeting taeyong's big cock "shit, that's so big" he gasped. "c'mon weren't you saying before that it was smaller than that sausage?. c'mon you can take it babe" y/n slapped taeyong's tummy "asshole" he murmured. both were sucking their dicks as of they were lollipops, hungry for tasting each other's pre-cum, "fuck~ how much i love hearing you gagging on my dick" the older stopped sucking y/n's dick and started to mouthfuck him, using him as an onahole "it's not that small after all huh?" taeyong said, reproaching y/n's past comment. y/n tapped taeyong's thigh signaling him to stop and he did, "what happened?" he asked worriedly. "nothing i just don't want you to cum in my mouth" y/n replied opening his legs right before, taeyong smirked understanding what y/m means "ok" he simply answered positioning himself quickly between y/n legs and sliding his cock into his tight hole.

"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this" says y/n, "me too" replied taeyong who kissed y/n and then spat into his mouth "swallow it" demanded the top scooping his saliva with his fingers and introducing them on y/n's mouth so he can suck on them. taeyong was pounding hard into y/n's ass "it feels like heaven" thought taeyong, enjoying the pleasure given by y/n's hole. 

taeyong then grabbed y/n's both legs and push them towards y/n's upper body and fucked him in a mating press position, y/n's face clearly showing the pleasure that taeyong was giving him, the tip of his cock brushing y/n's prostate. "fuck yeah like that, keep ruining me like that" begged the younger, "dont worry boy, i'm not gonna stop fucking this amazing hole" said the older speeding up his thrusting pace, y/n's face was now in front of taeyong's collarbone that was drenched in sweat so he decided to lick it and leave some hickeys on the collarbones, "not gonna let you forget this night too" says y/n and taeyong smiled "you look so cute while being fucked" then both kissed passionately, spitting in each other's mouths.

"i'm cumming" y/n commented "wait for me" said taeyong "let's cum together. yeah?", "yes" replied y/n. both speeding up their paces, white ropes of cum were shooted from y/n's cock to all his abdomen and chest while taeyong cummed inside y/n growling like a beast. "did you like it?" asked taeyong, "i loved it" answered y/n kissing taeyong. the top pulled out his cock from y/n's hole watching his cock smeared in his cum and how it's dripping down the bottom's gaping hole "get ready y/n i'm gonna fuck out that cum out of you" says the older introducing his cock again, "you have all night for that" said y/n smiling at him, making faces showing how much pleasure he's feeling and restraining his moans so no ona can hear them…

—

"ok guys, this here is the leaders' room" said johnny to the camera who was facing at him, only showing his face, "let's see what are they doing", he opened the door making a surprised face he then tried to hide it "oh it seems that they're busy now" he laughed and smiled to the camera "i'm gonna keep continuing showing you all the rest of the dorms, ok?" said the man who had to continue recording only his face due to the huge bulge forming in his pants, from the scene he just witnessed. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your father’s nurse, Heather, doesn’t arrive until after noon. Your mother spends much of the morning waiting on her, wondering if something happened. The woman with the steely hair explains that she had to drive from several towns over. It doesn’t matter, you’re just happy to have her there.

Your dad remains despondent. Your mother frets and hovers as Heather’s voice carries through the old farmhouse. She enunciates and projects as she speaks to the husk sitting in the recliner. Your mother paces and as you peek in on the nurse trying to guide your father in a simple exercise, your heart knots and nearly breaks.

You fell outside, proclaiming to your mother that you’ll check the hen house for eggs. She doesn’t argue even though you already did so that day. You tramp out onto the porch and clatter down the stairs. Things change so quickly.

In the distance, you watch the tractor drawing a straight line across the fields. You shield your eyes from the sun and squint. Timothy steers the smaller of the machines closer by. It should be your father out there. He doesn’t belong inside, he’s no type of man to be so still.

You sigh and muster your courage. You go back inside and find your mother standing at the door of the front room. She watches Heather and your dad. He mimics her clumsily as she shows him what to do. He’s shaky and gives up with a harrumph. He’s never been the one to surrender.

“It’ll be okay,” your mother whispers.

“Ma,” you rub her back, “we should start dinner. The day’s half gone.”

She sniffs and nods, “you’re right, honey.”

You walk silently to the kitchen and start on the evening meal. Her special sweet and sour meatballs. The sauce is a family recipe and she serves the signature dish on white rice. The work will keep you both distracted.

🌾

Your mother helps your father to the table as you go out to get your brother and Walter. You find Timothy with a cigarette between his lips. You scowl.

“Don’t let ma see,” you warn him.

“Sorry, I… it’s stressful.”

“Yeah, I know,” you utter dully. “Just don’t smoke by the door.”

You leave him, searching around in confusion. Where’s Walter? Did he leave already? He swore he’d stay for dinner and it’s all your mother talked about as you cooked. You know she’s avoiding mentioning what’s on all your minds.

You walk along the front of the house and turn the corner, nearly colliding with Walter as he comes around. You cry out and laugh at yourself as you touch your chest. He doesn’t flinch.

“Sorry–” You begin.

“My fault,” he insists, “was just making sure the tractor’s read for tomorrow.”

“Oh? Tomorrow?”

“Still lots to be done,” he says casually.

“Right,” you agree, “er, dinner’s ready.”

“You cooked?” He wonders.

“I helped,” you say as you turn and walk ahead of him.

“I saw you. With the chickens,” he follows at half a step. He’s like your very own shadow.

“You did?”

“Tractor stalled,” he supplies. “I think I figured it out though.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you reply awkwardly. You’re not used to him speaking so much. Not to you. “I made dessert tho–”

As you crane to speak over your shoulder, simultaneously lifting a foot to climb the porch steps, your toe hits the wood. You cry out and throw up your hands, bracing for impact. You don’t hit the rigid zigzag, instead caught around the waist as you hover just above them. His strength is effortless as he has you bound up in his thick arm.

Again, Walter saves you from catastrophe. He pulls you back and rights you, brushing against you as he unhooks his arm. He clears his throat and runs his hand down the front of his shirt.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, I…” you giggle and shake your head, “I’m so… all over the place right now. I’m sorry–”

“As long as you’re fine, no need to apologise,” he assures you.

“Ha, yeah,” you rub the back of your neck and look pointedly at the steps. You take each deliberately, “just needa watch where I’m going.”

He hums and trails after you. As you get to the door, he reaches around you to pull back the screen before you can. You thank him and go inside, stopping to slip off your flats as he unties his boots. The savoury scent of dinner draws you in.

You wait for him and lead him to the dining room. Your mother welcomes him in as she sits close to your father and feeds him. Timothy’s eyes flick back and forth between your parents and his plate fearfully.

“Pat,” Walter approaches the table with you, “Maddie,” he greets firmly, pulling out a chair. Before you can do the same, he gestures you into the seat before him.

“Oh, thanks…” you accept and sit down at your father’s other shoulder and Walter lowers himself into the next chair. You catch your mother’s gaze as she peeks over at you.

“Thank you for having me.”

“It’s our pleasure,” your mother insists, “really. You are helping us so much, dear. I can’t–” her voice crackles, “I can’t tell you how much it means.”

“Ma,” Timothy utters, embarrassment lining his tone.

“It’s the decent thing,” Walter says plainly.

“Would you like some meatballs?” You offer, “rice?”

“Please,” Walter nods and sits back as he watches you scoop a healthy serving of both onto his plate, “thank you.”

You recline and spoon out your own dinner. A lot less than his. You’re not very hungry. Your mom’s plate is barren as she focuses on your dad. Or you assume she does until you once more meet her eye. Her eyes drift over to Walter and back again.

“Very good,” Walter says after a bite.

“Oh, well, my daughter did all the hard work,” your mother preens.

Your furrow your brow at her lie. You are ever her helper. She told you what to fetch and to set the timer but she has to measure it all so precisely.

“Mmm, well, she was taught well, I’m sure,” Walter comments and shovels more into his mouth.

“I didn’t do that much,” you scoff as you slice into one of the large meatballs.

“Oh, of course you did, honey,” your mother chimes. “She’s a great cook, Walter, don’t let her fool you.”

You don’t argue. It isn’t the time and besides, it’s harmless. Just another distraction. She’s redirecting the attention so she doesn’t have to acknowledge the reality sitting right beside her. A few white lies are nothing compared to that.

[mackjlee9]

König having the biggest crush on Male 6 he thinks Gaz and Reader are dating with how close they are (they are bestfriends). what Köng doesn't know is that reader has also has the biggest crush on him. (some angst/comfort because im a big baby when the ending is sad) 

I also try to come up with more requests for our Cod boys. They may not all be angst, tho.

I think I fucked up 🧍‍♂️

König x Male!Reader [Angst&Fluff]

[reader is shorter than könig -not specified-]

angst/comfort

Everyone present felt intimidated when they saw the huge male walking at the back of his team. He was big, in every sense of the word.

They all listened attentively to Price as he spoke, announcing that Task Force 141 was gonna be joining KorTac for an operation, a long-term mission, and even then, while they were listening, most of them were only starting at the male with a sniper hood covering his face, towering over pretty much everyone in the room. He looked scary to various recruits.

But poor König was nervous, and anxious, he was used to receiving scared looks at him for years, even after he joined the military, but the fear of being made fun of because of his height never left. His eyes quickly scanned the room, noticing the recruits staring at him with fear in their eyes, others were surprised at his sheer size, a few seemed impressed, and then, he locked eyes with a (h/c) haired male.

His (e/c) eyes observed him with such admiration shining in them that made him blush under his hood. The male seemed to love his big size, and for once, König didn't feel the need to make himself look smaller outside of the battlefield.

Price finished telling them about the details of the mission, and everyone noted that it might take from six months to a year to do it. Save to say, a lot of soldiers weren't looking forward to having to see König walking around every day. 141's captain let the KorTac members introduce themselves briefly, and after that, they were dismissed.

(M/n) was internally debating if he should or not, but before he could make up his mind, his feet were already taking him to the tall male, completely ignoring Ghost's voice as he called him.

Slowly approaching him, he realized that he had to look up a little bit more than he thought, making him even more impressed at his height. He made his presence known to avoid startling the male that looked like he was about to have a meltdown, fidgeting around and keeping his head down, avoiding eye contact.

"Hey..." König looked up abruptly, startling (M/n) a bit, but he smiled at him reassuringly, "I'm (M/n), nice to meet you."

König stared at the hand stretched in front of him and he lifted his trembling hand, slowly greeting the curious man that had been watching him previously.

"König," he muttered his name in a whisper, almost panicking as he realized he had already introduced himself a few minutes ago. Even so, (M/n) only smiled at him, his eyes becoming just a bit smaller, something about his smile was... calming.

Then, his eyes noticed how (M/n) seemed to be doubting his next words, and König felt that recurrent dread when someone was gonna tell him to stay away from them because he was scary. But nope, that didn't happen.

"Is it too rude if I ask you how tall you are?" (M/n) asked with hesitation, keeping a close eye on König to see his reaction.

König blinked a few times and slightly stuttered his response when he saw the same shine in (M/n)'s eyes, "I'm 6'10."

(M/n) gasped at that, and König swore he saw stars in his eyes, "That's so cool..." He heard him whisper, and again, he found himself blushing, feeling shy, and glancing away, "Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, König!"

His eyes opened wide, something about the way (M/n) said his name made his heart race, he could almost hear it pound in his ears, he began rambling in German because of how flustered he was, and (M/n) only looked at him even more impressed, and König ended up choking on his words when he realized how (M/n) had an almost lovestruck gaze.

"It's okay, sir..." He mumbled and (M/n) chuckled at that.

"You can just call me (M/n), or Night, nobody calls me sir," he smiled at the big Austrian man who seemed to have calmed down enough to smile down at the smaller male.

Of course, (M/n) didn't see it because of the hood covering his face, but he saw the way his eyes crinkled a light at the corners, and that was enough to let him know he was smiling.

//////

For the following months, (M/n) and König had gotten pretty close, and maybe even more than just close. Both of them had realized it.

The tingly feeling in their tummies and their hearts racing whenever they were close to each other. So yeah, their crush was obvious for everyone else, but not them, as usual, right?

(M/n)'s crush became obvious a few weeks after meeting, when he realized that he wasn't just impressed and mesmerized by his height, or fighting abilities, or any other physical quality of him. He was enchanted by his personality. König was so cute and cheerful when he warmed up to someone, and the wild behavior he showed when out on the field. It was truly enchanting.

Now König seemed to have started liking (M/n) since that spark in his eyes the first time his (e/c) eyes landed on his frame. He was a little scared, he's not fond of the memory of his crush and relationship, but he has witnessed (M/n)'s kind behavior toward him, and everyone else. Even so, König thought he was the one that got more attention from him.

Until he saw him with Gaz.

He had come by to ask (M/n) if he could help him with his sniper training when he saw him talking and laughing with Gaz. He wouldn't have thought much of it if it wasn't for the way they were looking at each other. He felt jealous, observing the scene with his fists clenched by his sides, releasing a quiet growl when he saw Gaz getting too close to (M/n), mumbling a curse in German as he left to head to his room.

Laying in bed, he stayed angry for a few moments, until that anger was overcome with sadness.

So... (M/n) was taken already, and he has no chance with him anymore.

//////

After that day, König has been avoiding physical contact with (M/n), he didn't want to make Gaz -or anyone- mad with his behavior towards him. (M/n) didn't like that, especially when the Austrian man would just outright ignore him for days.

It made him feel like König had figured out his feelings for him and found him disgusting. But instead of making assumptions, he cornered König one day to confront him.

"Why are you ignoring me all of the sudden, König?" His harsh tone of voice made König look away, taking a deep breath while he thought of the words he wanted to say.

But his response was unexpected, whispered so quietly (M/n) barely heard them.

"I don't want to upset your boyfriend," (M/n) only stared at him, confused, and König freaked out, "Not that I care you're dating a guy! I feel really happy for you actually!" He was speaking so fast right now, his accent was thickening from his sheer panic, "I didn't mean to eavesdrop the other night when you were with him-!"

His rambling stopped when (M/n) gripped his sniper hood and pulled him down closer to his height, and König was only able to look at him like a deer caught in headlights.

"What are you talking about, König?" He blinked at his question, confused now as well.

"Aren't you and Sergeant Garrick dating...?" He asked slowly, unsure of what he was even gonna say. The (h/c) haired male silently processed his words, and laughed, "(M/n)?" König's voice was weak, keeping his eyes on the male so close to his face.

"Kyle is my best friend, he trained me when I was accepted in the academy and we were transferred to 141 together, he helped me feel comfortable since day one, König," the relief that filled König's body made his legs weak, the idea of having a chance with (M/n) coming back with full force, "König?! You okay?"

He didn't even realize he had fallen to his knees.

König let out a laugh, sighing with relief, "I'm so happy you're not dating him, (M/n)..." He mumbled while looking up at him with tears in his eyes. Happy? (M/n) though to himself, "Scheiße, I'm so in love with you, (M/n), I was so heartbroken when I thought you were already taken," he continued rambling, not breaking eye contact with (M/n), and the still standing male couldn't resist.

(M/n) leaned down to König's height, and pulled his sniper hood up, thanking whatever reason he had to not be wearing his balaclava under it, and pressed their lips together. König gasped, his eyes opening wide, completely caught off guard, feeling like his heart was gonna burst out of his chest.

But when (M/n) realized König wasn't returning the kiss he backed off, kinda scared and completely forgetting how the Austrian had just confessed he loved him. The moment their kiss broke, (M/n) made eye contact with König's lovestruck eyes.

Slowly standing up, his hands held (M/n)'s face gently before leaning down to kiss him back, his arms wrapping around his shoulders while (M/n) placed his hands on König's hips, pulling him closer to him while wide smiles grew on their faces.

[messycunt]

No thoughts, only Leona and Tummy bulges

-🌸

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GRUMPY LION i never manage to post birthday stuff on time so I'm super proud of being able to queue this in advance even tho I rushed it!

small context that's kinda not needed; reader missed leonas party so he's a lil sour abt that lol

cw: afab reader, creampie, size kink, scratching and biting but no blood, not proof read

it gets so fucking hot in savanaclaw.

now that the sun has set its not that bad though. mostly anyway, the last rays of light casting gorgeous pink and orange hues visible through the wide open aired windows of the dorm. you're much too preoccupied to worry about any of that even though you should be, nrc does have a somewhat enforced curfew afterall. something to consider tomorrow maybe.

for hours its been like this; chest to your back, a hot mouth pressed against your neck leaving a path of wet bites and kisses, sharp freshly manicured nails(a 2 days early birthday gift from vil of all people apparently, how sweet…) digging into the fat of backs of your thighs to keep them pushed up to your chest and spread open. leona did almost all of the work for you, stuffing your cunt and bouncing your body up and back down on his lap.

grunting and panting against your neck he moves a hand from your thigh to push against your lower stomach. he can feel himself filling you and you squeal at the pressure. he mumbles a strained 'fuuuuck' under his breath before lifting you off of him, scoffing teasingly at your whine from the loss of him inside of you. you're pushed down onto the bed on all fours, your lion towers over you from behind.

a pile of gifts sits in the corner of his room. its not even half of what he received today in total since he gave most of it away in the last few hours, whatever ruggie didn't manage to already get his paws on anyways.

you face it now and leona's sliding himself back into you leaning over your much smaller body and nipping at the nape of your neck. a warm careful hand moving to where you both were joined to push and rub at your clit in slow lazy circles timed differently from his thrusts. he could feel your cunt pulsing with your heartbeat.

a few tags have long carefully written notes with long titles signed in gorgeous typography too small and loopy for you to read with your clouded mind and tears of pleasure filled eyes. most are written simply 'to: leona'.

he hums pleased with himself when you cum against him from his fingers(sure to have you finish first how princely!) popping his fingers into his mouth to lick clean and moan and slowing his thrusts.

his sweat drips down on your back to mix with your own. a growl sounds from behind you, weight is shifted to lean atop you more forcefully and nails dig again against your tummy. feeling again how he makes room for himself inside of you, he loves it. skin to skin for a second he stills and you gasp.

he fills your already warmer than warm insides with his own liquid heat and your toes curl. your gift to him and his gift to you.

face still smushed against the mattress and drool pooling in your mouth you mumble "happy 'irthday my prince". he simply grunts in acknowledgement, eyes already closed. he flops to lay on his slide facing you, fast asleep.

even if you went through with the effort to wake him up from his dead sleep you can already hear his tired mumbles of 'jus' clean up later' and 'ill walk you back to ramshackle tomorrow' before falling back asleep. so you leave him, snuggling up next to him silently and falling into a dreamless sleep.

[pregnant-piggy]

hey I want wondering if you could do a harry j potter x reader oneshot when the are dating for a few months (takes place in ootp or hbp I don’t really mind which) and reader is still not completely comfortable with cuddling and that kind of stuff with harry cause she just isn’t used to physical contact and one day when harry wants to cuddle with her in the evening she stiffens or flinches and harry is extremely worried (yk him and his adorable overreacting) cause he doesn’t know if she has any trauma or something and you can make the rest up just make it extremely fluffy (only if you want to do it tho I just think it’d be very cute <3)

hi love, so while my requests are technically not open, you were lucky there weren't many requests from my celebration so i did write this :) and it wouldn't be a blurb from me if it wasn't 1.3k words (i swear i'm not doing it on purpose)

Flinch

The fire spit out sparks near your feet as you poured over your Divination homework. You were halfway but it was becoming harder and harder to come up with solutions and explanations of your dreams and with every minute that passed your concentration grew smaller. Not that there had been much to begin with when you'd started, but whether you liked it or not, the deadline was approaching fast.

Just as you'd finished describing your dream of last Thursday—something to do with unruly black hair and glasses—you got interrupted. Someone dropped to the couch behind where you were sitting on the floor and let out a loud sigh. Then in the corner of your eye you saw a flash of red hair darting to the last empty chair on your side, followed by a "How gentleman-like of you, Ron".

Hermione sat down next to you on the floor and glanced at your parchment. "I feel sad for you."

"You should," you said, dropping your quill and massaging your forehead with your fingers. "It's a wreck."

"Wait a minute." Ron perked up from his slouch in the armchair. "Why did you not feel sorry for me when I complained about it today?"

Hermione shook her head. "Because you don't even try, Ron! You predicted you'd be caught by a mob of horses and be forced to turn into a centaur."

"So?" Ron shrugged. "That's just what my dream meant."

"Be careful," you said to Ron. "Or soon you'll dream it's a mob of Hermiones chasing you."

Ron shivered as if that was the worst nightmare anyone could have and behind you Harry barked a laugh. You looked back at your boyfriend and smiled. The dating thing was still new and you were trying to find your way with it, but you were glad to have made him laugh.

"Hush now," you said, waving a hand towards Ron. "I want to finish this."

You did get silence but only for five minutes or so before Ron started to talk about the upcoming quidditch game against Ravenclaw. You, who had been busy coming up with a dream for Friday—maybe Ron's technique wasn't all that bad after all—got pulled from your focus. You tried for ten more minutes, but eventually had to admit that you were doing more bad than good and would have to correct everything you wrote tomorrow so you gave up  You threw your quill down and rested back against the bottom of the sofa, right next to Harry's legs.

Without turning away from his conversation, he laid his hand atop your head and started massaging it.

You froze, heart skipping a beat and pumping twice as fast after. Every muscle in your body grew rigid, frozen, and you carefully moved away, pretending to grab something of the table, but in fact trying to get away as unnoticeable as possible.

No one noticed. Harry's hand fell back but he said nothing nor did he move closer again. With a pounding heart you stared at your Divination paper, pretending you were fixing a mistake.

It wasn't Harry's fault. Really not. You'd never been good with physical contact but you also never thought it a real problem till you got together with Harry. Now each time he wrapped an arm around you or reached for your hand, you froze, panicked, feared. You weren't even sure why.

You also didn't know if Harry had noticed. He had never said anything about it and whenever it happened and you pulled away he seemed not to notice it. But you knew it wasn't fair to him and you did try to do better. Just yesterday he had taken your hand and without too much panic you'd held onto it for the entire walk.

It was a slow process and many times you were on the verge of telling him about it, but you were scared.

After a few minutes of calming down, you got up and sat next to Harry on the sofa, leaving enough space so you weren't touching but no one would think anything of it.

Ron was animatedly telling a story about Flitwick who had fallen off his chair and Harry turned to you.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You bit your lip and Harry's gaze flicked down but back up quickly.

"Are you sure?" he went on. "You seem a bit off."

"No, all's good. Don't worry." You shrugged. "Just tired."

"Okay." Harry's mouth split into a smile. "'Cause you'd tell me if something was wrong right?"

"Of course." You tried a smile and apparently it was convincing enough for him to drop the subject.

"It's not that funny, Ron," Hermione said, tearing your focus from Harry. She shook her head while Ron wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Next to you, Harry smiled lazily. "It kinda was. He made the funniest noise ever." He proceeded to make some high-pitched noise that had Ron roaring with laughter in his chair until he fell off.

"Serves you right," Hermione mumbled, but there was a smile on her face.

You laughed and sunk a little more into the sofa. So much that you almost didn't see what happened next to you. Almost.

Harry stretched out his arm to lay it over your shoulders and before you could stop it, you flinched.

And this time there was no mistaking it. He noticed.

"What-?" he stuttered.

Your eyes were wide, your body frozen in shock. You hadn't meant for it to happen, didn't even know it would happen. You'd been on edge all day, tired, overworked, but you never figured it would end up like this.

And unfortunately not only Harry noticed.

"Ron," Hermione said. "Ron, come on. I want to talk to you."

Ron looked up from where he hadn't even bothered get up from the floor. "Why?"

"Just something." Hermione's eyes flicked to your frozen body and Harry's face that you were too afraid to look at. "Quickly. Come on, Ron."

"Alright, fine. But I don't see what could possibly be so important."

"Just come!"

Hermione quickly left, Ron following after her reluctantly. You were glad she'd given you some privacy, but you didn't want to see the undoubtedly hurt look on Harry's face.

"y/n?" Harry didn't reach out for you and somehow that hurt. "Can you look at me?"

You took a deep breath and looked up. You had expected pain, anger, disappointment, but instead there was only worry and confusion. Harry's eyes were full of concern and that gave you the slightest of hope. He didn't hate you.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"I'm trying really hard, Harry. It's just... physical contact and touch and everything---it doesn't come easy to me. I don't know why; it's just always been so for me." You looked down at your hands in your lap. "And I want to change that. I do. But it takes time."

Harry was silent for a long time and you didn't look at him. You'd understand if he didn't want to see you any longer, if he wanted to break things off. You'd hate that, of course, but you'd understand.

"We have time."

"What?"

You lifted your gaze to his face. He was watching you with a smile.

"You said it takes time. We have time. All the time in the world if we need."

"You mean that," you realised.

"I do. I don't want to lose you over something like this. We'll find our way with it. I promise."

A watery laugh fell from your lips. You nodded, more relieved than words could describe. He didn't hate you, not at all. Your fears had been ungrounded.

"Thank you," you said. And very carefully, you placed your hand atop Harry's one. Nerves spiked in your chest, but you pushed them down. "It's not that I hate you touching me. It's just a bit more difficult."

Harry turned his hand over and held yours. He was careful, soft.

"That's alright," he said. "I'm still yours."

- - - - - - -

hp taglist: @kingalrdy @missswriter @awritingtree @ananad1 @secretsthathauntus @izzyyy-1 @nyotamalfoy @xxinvisiblexx @idli-dosa @lacunaanonymoused @kitkatkl @d22malfoys

[luveline]

(if you’re still doing the baby blurbs! 💓👼🏻) maybe something with eddie being a little goofball gentleman? i can picture him like laying down his jacket over the tiniest puddle or sprinting ahead of you to open every door even tho u keep yelling at him every time he does 😊

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

"We can't forget you have that dentist appointment on Wednesday," you're saying distractedly, eyes on the rearview mirror as you reverse into a parking space. "You missed your last one and they charged you anyways, those losers." 

You haven't even turned the engine off when Eddie's throwing open the passenger door. He climbs out, slams it closed, and then, with all the speed and dexterity of a professional sportsman (think baseball, or even ice hockey), he flies across the hood of the car to your side and yanks open your door. 

"My lady," he says breathlessly, gesturing for you to step out. 

You blink at him. Your lips pull up into an open-mouthed, breathless smile, a tear-like warmth collecting in your eyes. "Are you real?" 

He grins at your expression, knowing how funny he is, "A real gentleman," he says smugly. "Come, my lady. We've groceries to procure." 

You swing your legs out of the car and take his hand, giggling with a sickly, giddy affection. He helps you up and kisses your hand. 

"This is one of the silliest things you've ever done," you say fondly. 

"Can't a man treat his woman as she deserves to be treated?" 

You lock the car. "Not if he's going to almost smash his head in." 

"I barely tripped!" he argues, eager to take your hand again, forcing his fingers through yours and swinging them between your bodies. 

He's in a ridiculously good mood today, his theatrical excitement at an all time high, joy lighting his features. He looks even more handsome than usual when he's this happy. 

You indulge his mood and lean up to peck his jaw. "Thank you, sir." 

"The effect might have been grander if my van wasn't still in the shop, but you got the idea," he says, the wind quick to return his newly washed hair to its usual frizz while you walk from the car to the front of the store. "Wait!" 

His shout startles you. You stop dead at the lip of the asphalt outside of the store, worried you're about to step on something small, but Eddie's perceived an even smaller risk.

There's a puddle. 

He steps over it onto the sidewalk. You get the sense you should wait, and sure enough, he offers you both hands and 'helps' you cross treacherous waters rather than let you wet the bottom of your battered converse. 

"Whew. Almost lost you," Eddie says, his eyes squinting gently with his smile. He knows he's being ridiculous. He takes pleasure in it. 

You rub his knuckles where your hands are still clasped between you. "My hero," you croon. 

He beams, but then he turns on his heel and sprints to the automatic doors, arms out. "Quickly, sweetheart! Before they close!" 

You snort at him. "I hope you're not planning on doing this all day." 

"Of course not." 

Grocery shopping with him is nearly impossible. Eddie tries to guess your every thought, opening fridges and freezers for you before you've so much as looked at them, wrestling a water crate out of your hand lest you strain your beautiful arms. You have to shout at him to stop when he almost hits an unsuspecting shopper in the face with a glass door, but you kiss his bruised ego better somewhere between the pastries and the fresh bread, and he promptly calms down.

[miioouu]

Hehhe🥴💕

Ghost with temperature play tho🥴💕(i think its temp play or kink but whateves its the same thing, i think??)

This request reminds me of the time when I used to write anime smut and I'm here for it!!! Also after some thorough research ;) I have concluded that yes, temp play and kink are the same. Anyway, hope you enjoy it, thank you for blessing us with your unholy thoughts bbg!

Tw: smut, temperature play, oral (fem receiving), orgasm denial, fem reader

The room was hot, sweat drops running down your spine and your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Your body was blazing, scorching even…

The chuckle coming from between your thighs didn’t help the situation either. His warm eyes looking up at you through his long eyelashes. “What is it, love? Are you feeling hot?” He’s mocking you, for sure. And you wonder why he even bothers asking you this question, Simon would never let you talk back. In fact, he likes your silence, maybe that’s why he has his glove shoved deeply into your mouth, your drool coating it, dripping down your chin.

The room was hot, like a sauna, honestly what did you expect when your latest mission is right in the middle of the desert. Luckily though, your captain isn’t cruel enough to let you die from a heat stroke, the place he rented for you has perfect air conditioning. But your lieutenant on the other hand, he’s nasty and dirty. “Turn on the AC? We’re in the military sergeant, you should be able to handle heat” And that’s true, and you usually were perfectly fine sweating in the dry sandy air, but usually he wouldn’t have his tongue swiping at your slit, sliding between your folds to have a taste of your arousal. Usually, you wouldn’t have to hold your breath, be scared of letting out a sound, afraid that your comrades next door would hear. He took pity on you, the moments your eyes flutter, your fingers grasped his, gosh you’ve always been so beautiful to him, but something about seeing you almost slip out of conscience as you body sticks to the sheets with perspiration has really got him thinking of you as a the most beautiful angel that has ever graced the surface of the earth. “Ah, relax… I know a way to cool you down, love” He’d murmur against your soft thigh before straightening up. His hand quickly found the mini fridge, a smirk adorned his face when he saw the tray of ice cubes, that’ll definitely cool you down. He slipped one between his lips, letting it melt on the tip of his tongue slightly before going back to the place where he belonged; between your legs.

The ice cube, now a little smaller, falls from his mouth, placing it right above your bundle of nerves. The contrast between your hot body and the glacial crystal has you arching your back and a whimper of his name choked itself out from between your lips. This reaction earned you a chuckle from the man above you, his eyes shining in mischief, trying but failing to feign innocence as he kisses your inner thighs, slowly, coldly, making his way to your drenching core. Tongue still frozen, he swiped it between your folds, tasting you had him humming out loud. “You always taste so good, love.” His compliment is mumbled against your skin as he’s still sloppily making out with your heat. He sucks on your clit, the tip of his tongue draws languid circles, making sure to always add a little more pressure to that place that would usually have you hiccuping for air. His lashes flutter shut, enjoying your arousal a little too much, his nails dig in the soft flesh of your thighs. Enjoying you a little too much, his hips grind against the mattress below him. Enjoying the way you tremble and shake beneath him, not even his glove can restrain your whines for more, he can almost hear your voice in his head “More sir! Please, please, I need more, more than just your tongue” The memory has him moaning, the vibration of it making your toes curl.Oh you were so close, and he knew it.

The ice cube now long melted, the cold water running down your thighs, spilling on the sheets and whenever your skin ever so grazes the drops, it sends electricity through your body. “Still hot, hmm?” Simon teases, his voice laced with a hint of arrogance as he sees the desperation in your teary eyes. He pulls away for a minute, finding the tray again, and it isn't Ghost if he gives you warnings, right? Where's the fun in that? With that he dumps the rest of the ice cubes onto your stomach, relishing in the way you quiver and squirm, a proud smile drawn on his face.

Quickly, his hands still cold, he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him, he hovers above you, face mere inches away from yours “What? Are you feeling cold now, sergeant? Don't worry, I've also got a way to deal with this too…”

[cloudraker]

heyo! I saw ur post and wanted to ask for tfp decepticons with a winged! S/o

preferably with megatron, soundwave or shockwave and knockout! Like how they would react and act around them, or like how they would use reader to their advantage? (Not in a bad way)

Reader has a long wingspan (18 ft) and is bigger than a normal human? Like smaller than Arcee but bigger than average.

Please tell me if that’s too much for you! And ty! <3 stay safe

Ofc!! And no worries, it's not too much at all :) Thank you sm for requesting <3

TFP Megatron, Soundwave, Shockwave, and Knock Out with a Winged S/o

Under the cut :)

Megatron

Honestly probably doesn't even notice you're any different at first until you start zipping around

I would say that of the four he's the one that cares the least

That isn't to say he doesn't care at all, far from it! He's got more than a handful of schemes, plots, ploys, etc ready to use when the need should arise

Depending on how you fly and such, he might take your movements into consideration when it comes to his own flight or when training troops. The information gets passed on to Starscream for the latter, but he's still aware of it

He doesn't expect you to be able to keep up with him when he's flying, but he will commend the effort

He does expect your wings to be in peak condition; they're one of your defining features and something that he see as putting you above the rest of your species

If you're at all self conscious about your wings, he scoffs and tells you to take pride in what sets you apart. It's not great advice, but it's something

Soundwave

Enjoys running his fingers through your feathers if you'll let him

Despite being in a relationship, he's still got a job to do. If you're up for it, he'll ask you to do recon or survey areas that need to be scouted in a more subtle way

He's not above using your humanity for the benefit of the Decepticons, but he wouldn't knowingly put you in harms way

Of the four, he's got the easiest time helping you groom your wings due to how thin his digits are

He draws comparisons between you and Laserbeak at times, though he does keep those thoughts to himself

Shockwave

Dude has got plans and ploys in place to test things and ideas

At times it might feel like you're more an experiment than a partner

He's always more than happy to run tests on how far you can fly and how fast, how much weight you can carry and for how long/far

He's also rather interested in your biology, pulling up diagrams of a typical human body and comparing it to yours, trying to figure out why you're different

It might be hard to notice, but he's more careful when it comes to tests. It's one of the few ways he has to show he does actually care about you, and doesn't want to see you hurt if it can be avoided

If there's something you want to train towards physically, you can count on him to come up with the most optimal training program possible

He finds it helpful to have you in the lab and having you zip around and collecting tools for him so he doesn't have to step away from his work

He understands the concept of keeping muscles strong, and makes sure you exercise enough if you're keeping him company in the lab

Knock Out

Dude makes sure you know how pretty your wings are

Makes sure you've got every product you'd ever need to keep them in top condition. Don't ask where he got them from tho

Schedules regular sessions where the two of you just preen and gossip

Also finds it super helpful that you can just fly up and reach the spots he can't and buff them out for him

Absolutely admires the strength you have in your wings. The idea that you have to actually flap them and have enough strength to get yourself off the ground is foreign to him as it's super different for Cybertronians

Not a fan of molting tbh. There's feathers everywhere and guh they're everywhere

Will still (reluctantly) help you deal with it tho

Knock Out makes sure you know he thinks that your wings make you much cooler than other people, and is not above making fun of the Autobots for having 'inferior' humans on their side