#need someone to study me. need someone to know me inside and out. need someone to be interested in hearing every thought I've ever had

[bfwooin]

content. MDNI, heavy smut, fwb!hwangyeon, rough sex, creampie, size kink, hes an asshole.

a/n. i literally hate this man but i cant deny that hes sexy (same for juwon as well hmm), i needed to dump my thoughts somewhere okay i swear i hate him this is just a one time thing 🥀

WHY DO I SUDDENLY FIND HWANGYEON SO HOT. my brain needs to be studied because it should be criminal to fall for this man.

but just imagining him hitting your line up and calling you after losing against someone in a race with his ego severely bruised and mood ruined, you know this man will vent his anger in the way he knows best.

you're pushed against the mattress, taking his hard thrusts as his big hand holds your neck hostage, pinning your head down into the soft pillow that does nothing to serve comfort.

your drool spills all over the cover, moans of pain and pleasure escape your mouth like a deranged symphony. you're obeying to please him, that's why he called you over to the same hotel in the first place. you want to stop letting him get his way.

but fuck, you're excited when he calls for a session; those meaningless praises that he whispers down into your ear as he fucks you senseless make you lose all judgment.

his other hand bounds your wrists to your lower back, removing your liberation as you cry out thrust after thrust. he's rough, sweating and moving with desire as he throws his head back and shuts his eyes.

his mouth parts, a low breath emits as he gets lost in the haze of his arousal, and forgets about the upsetting outcome of the race. it's as if it didn't happen, he's too focused on the way your ass bounces fluidly against his hips as he eyes your gorgeous, arched back down and takes in the sight.

you swear you could feel him getting bigger inside of you, hitting your spot deeply over and over again until you feel his load paint your slick walls.

but he doesn't stop, pushing his cum deeper into you as he's still so caring about your own release.

only then does he cease when he feels your walls contract around his thick cock, eagerly milking every last drop out of him as your body courses with jolts of bliss.

someone needs to sedate me i am not okay.

[angelxsturns]

BACK TO FRIENDS (pt. 2) - M.S.

IN WHICH… reader catches feelings for matt, your best friend that you’d been hooking up with, but he doesn’t reciprocate them.

SERIES CONTENTS - friends with benefits, suggestive, a little bit of angst???, unrequited love, cursing, uhhhh idk if i missed anything

it’s been two weeks since you slept with matt. two weeks since you left his bedroom with your pride folded in your pocket like a love letter never sent. you haven’t brought it up. neither has he. it’s like it never happened, except your body still remembers, and so does your chest, every time you’re around him.

tonight, your shared friend group is piled into sadie’s apartment. there’s music, cheap beer, floor pillows, and matt. he’s laughing like his mouth doesn’t still taste like you. he’s sitting across from you, one leg stretched out, the other tucked under. you pretend to scroll through your phone just so you don’t have to look at the way he nudges your friend, lily with his shoulder and grins like she’s the only one in the room. she laughs too loudly. you want to disappear into the couch out of second hand embarrassment.

“you okay, babe?” sadie leans over and asks, her voice low enough to keep it between you two.

you nod. lie. “i’m fine.” you’re not.

the game of never have i ever starts. classic disaster fuel. someone says something about skinny dipping. another says “hooked up with a friend.”

your throat closes.

matt’s fingers tap his cup. “yeah,” he says casually, “i mean, doesn’t everyone eventually?”

you look at him. he looks right past you.

later, you’re out on the balcony. you needed air. the city hums below, and the breeze pulls at your hair like it knows something you don’t. you try to focus on the breeze, drowning the thoughts in your head with the noisy city.

just then, the door slides open.

“hey,” matt says behind you. you don’t turn around “you were quiet in there,” he adds.

“yeah, well. i had nothing to say.”

he moves next to you, arms on the railing, mirroring your posture.

“is this about… us?”

you glance at him. that same face. the one that used to feel safe. now? now it feels like a question you don’t want to answer.

“no,” you lie again.

he exhales slowly. “i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“you didn’t,” you shoot back too fast.

he studies you, and for the first time, he looks unsure. nervous.v“y/n, you’re allowed to be mad.”

you laugh once, bitter “i’m not mad, matt. i’m just done pretending this doesn’t mean something to me.” silence. you step back from the railing, facing him fully now. “i can’t be just friends with someone i’m in love with.”

his expression shifts—panic? guilt? you don’t care anymore.

“i’m letting go.” you say, with a tight smile, “for real this time.”

matt opens his mouth like he’s going to say something—wait, or me too, or i didn’t know—but nothing comes out. just silence.

and you walk back inside without looking back.

a/n: okay i promise it’ll be less complicated between reader and matt in the next part. i like keeping you on your toes though like you have no idea if they’re gonna be good again…. honestly im still trying to figure out if i want them to have a happy ending 😀

[spocks-kaathyra]

when the weed starts tasting like the realization that I'm still deeply lonely and I'll never be loved how I need and it's selfish of me to even want it

[sttoru]

pls pls pls 🥹 older bf! gojo fucking the attitude out of his gf

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru picks you up after your lecture to spend quality time with you, only to realise you got an attitude that needs some fixing.

tags. dom older bf!gojo x female reader. smut, pwp but also with plot. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). rough. hints of degradation. p in v -> unprotected. standing doggy. semi-public. spanking. hair pulling. name calling. creampīe. nicknames ‘princess, baby’. wc: 3.2k

“mind telling me who that was, baby?” satoru asks while he fixes his sunglasses. he pushes his hair back a little, walking beside you through campus. you had just finished your study session with a boy who’s in your statistics class. your lovely boyfriend offered to pick you up and take you back home after that.

though, despite the kind gesture, you’re still visibly stressed after revising the material. your mind is occupied with all sorts of stuff you need to know before your exam on thursday.

“just a classmate,” you respond curtly, not even looking at satoru. you’re speeding ahead of him, wanting to rush home already. you nibble on your bottom lip and your brows are furrowed due to the distress, “why do you care?”

that sentence came out harsher than you had expected it to. you don’t mean to be bitchy, but you’re under too much stress at the moment. your body reacts before you can withstand it.

satoru is silent for a few seconds. he’s surprised by the tone of voice you used. he keeps on following you, however, not letting your little comment ruin the conversation. he’s there to help you, not to make you even more upset.

which is why he tries to lighten the mood.

“oh?” satoru chuckles, his dimples showing. he easily keeps up with you, his long legs carrying him around quite fast. the white haired man pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear ever so gently, “did someone upset my little princess today?”

you don’t answer him. you’re focused on your phone, hurriedly texting your friend back while speeding past all the other students. you don’t even notice how the girls are gawking at your man—whispering about how handsome he is and who he might be.

satoru doesn’t pay them any mind. his sole goal is to gain your attention back. he frowns after his question is met with silence. the clicking of his dress shoes increases as he tries to get you to stop and face him.

“c’mon,” your boyfriend sighs and stands in front of you, stopping you to an abrupt halt. he holds your wrist tenderly yet firmly, letting you know that he wants to properly communicate with you, “y’ can’t ignore me.”

you yank your hand back, your irritated attitude visible in your actions. you look up at satoru, not caring about what he thinks or wants at the moment. you just want to go home and relax. everything is overstimulating you.

“i can and i will,” you huff before stepping aside to continue your journey out of the university’s terrain. your boyfriend’s frown only deepens. you’re not the only one who’s currently getting agitated. you push past a group of students who stood in your way, “let’s just go home.”

satoru’s eyes narrow. he doesn’t get upset fast—he rarely feels any kind of anger—but right now he can feel something itching inside of his chest. he’s tried not to let the jealousy get the best of him at first, but now with all the other emotions coming into play, it’s nearly impossible to hold himself back.

satoru considers himself a fairly mature man. he’s always been one, yet when it comes to you he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t have any control over his emotions. his body and mind act on their own.

“aht aht. not so fast, little lady.”

you suddenly feel yourself being dragged to the side. satoru’s grip around your arm isn’t harsh, but it sure is enough to make you stumble along with him. you click your teeth in slight annoyance after the initial shock settles in. you know there’s no fighting it; you don’t want others to witness your little squabble.

“hey, where are we going?” you ask, a slight whine leaving your throat. you simply want to go lay in your bed and avoid everything and everyone else. your eyes are focused on the back of satoru’s head as he guides you along. he doesn’t bother to face nor answer you.

you sigh and simply allow yourself to be dragged away. if you’re going to get a scolding, you don’t mind. you’re just going to hear him out and nod along so you can go back home faster.

you raise an eyebrow when satoru arrives at the bathroom on the second floor. “what the—” you’re confused as to what your boyfriend is trying to achieve. you quickly look around to see if anyone has seen you.

no one seems to be close. this part of the building has always been empty around this time frame anyway.

you’re pulled into the men’s bathroom after satoru made sure that the coast was clear. he gently pushes you into an empty stall and locks the door. “satoru, what’s up with you?” you sigh as you stumble back against the bathroom wall. it’s a hypocritical comment considering your own nasty attitude.

you try to push him aside, only for your boyfriend to force your arms around his neck, pulling you flush against him. your eyes lock into his and that’s when you notice how . . dark they are. the usual playful look is nowhere to be found.

“i’m just thinkin’ that y’r attitude needs some fixing, hm?” satoru whispers. a ghost of a smirk appears on his face—it’s a twisted one. wicked, with the thoughts of what he’ll do to punish you for your actions. he rarely has that expression when he’s with you.

he tips your chin up with quite some force, “i can help with that.”

everything else happens at a blink of an eye. one of satoru’s large hands slithers up your back to tangle in your hair and yank it back, exposing the column of your throat for his hickeys to take shape on. his other hand swiftly makes work of your pants and undergarments.

his jaw is clenched—the usual hint of gentle love in his eyes is replaced by lust fuelled by jealousy and frustration. satoru is not playing around either. instead of taking his time like he usually does when it comes to intimacy, he’s quick to discard both your clothing.

“fuckin’ tease,” the white-haired man mutters under his breath, panting with desire. he zips down his pants and frees his big cock from his boxers. “always pushing my buttons. isn’t that right, baby?”

satoru lets out a breathy, mocking chuckle. he fists the shaft slowly while his blue eyes roam over your body caged against him and the wall, “but i guess tha’s part of the reason why i love you—hah.”

you’re basically in shock at the sudden switch. your jaw is slack and your eyes are wide, but there’s an undeniable feeling in your chest that tells you you’re loving this change. you can’t deny the fact that you’re turned on. extremely turned on.

“‘toru, i don’t think it’s smart to do this here,” you murmur in a small voice. you’re trying to have some dignity, even now, when your panties are soaked and the scent of your obvious arousal is driving your man crazy.

“don’t care,” satoru shakes his head with a smug grin. his long fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear before flimsily tugging them down to your ankles. his eyes darken the second he sees the webs of sticky, translucent slick clinging from your panties to your puffy folds.

he grunts, his cock twitching painfully in his hand. he’s thinking of simply jerking off to the sight of you in front of him, but he decided otherwise. satoru smacks your clit with his fat tip, “should’ve thought about that before catchin’ an attitude with me.”

suddenly, he turns you around so you’re facing the wall. your nails dig into the flat surface of the tiles, catching onto nothing. you’re hoping that no one will walk into the bathroom. last thing you need is everyone knowing that you were getting your back blown out by your boyfriend on campus.

not that satoru would mind those rumors. it’d only fuel his (already) huge ego.

“oh, yeah— shit. you need this ‘s much as i do,” satoru groans as sinks his cock into your pussy, agonisingly slow, inch by inch. you shudder and hold in your moans as your velvety walls make part for him.

his hands spread your pert asscheeks, smacking the full globes before kneading them to soothe the pain. he continues in a low, dangerous voice, “you wouldn’t be so stuck up if y’ didn’t need this fuckin’ dick to shut you up.”

satoru doesn’t stop pushing in until his heavy balls are resting snugly against your bottom, warming his sack full of cum that’s aching to be released in your dripping cunt.

“ngh, ‘toru,” you bite your lip and try not to orgasm just from the feeling of being full— so full of cock that it makes you see stars, “just like that.”

the white-haired man responds with a satisfied grunt, sweat forming on his forehead from how hot and wet it is inside of you.

“oh, there she is,” satoru coos once he hears your whiny voice, that sweet voice he cherishes and loves. it isn’t cold nor avoidant anymore like before and that’s really all he wanted to acquire. he licks a stripe from the tip of your ear to the lobe, voice husky, “there’s the girlfriend i know. moan some more f’ me.”

you shiver as satoru’s lips connect with the back of your neck. after wetting the skin with his saliva, he bites. not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark. you clamp around his dick in response and he curses under his breath.

“please, fuck me,” you breathe. you need more stimulation, need him to absolutely ruin you. the shallow and slow thrusts he’s giving are nothing but torturous.

satoru grins and rests his chin on top of your shoulder, large hands rubbing around your hips and lower abdomen, teasing your clit every now and then to get you even more pent up.

“fuck you?” he tilts his head, as if contemplating. he clicks his tongue and gives your ass a firm slap that nearly sends you over the edge. “hah, you should be grateful for what i’m givin’ you.”

but satoru’s weak for you. even if he’s trying to be the ‘mean’ and ‘cold’ dominant guy. his cock is aching to plunge in and out of your wet hole, to see you come undone and feel your juices coat his balls and thighs.

“fine. i’ll fuck you,” satoru relents with a roll of his eyes, acting like he isn’t desperate for you too. he grips your hips in a bruising manner and bites your shoulder, “—fuck you like the brat you are.”

your hands save your face from making contact with the wall as your body suddenly jostles back and forth in a speed you can’t even process.

“satoru!” you nearly scream his name out of pure surprise. the pleasure comes crashing down in waves, your pussy uncontrollably spasming around his girthy cock.

satoru grumbles something incoherent as he pistons his hips, ramming in your sloppy cunt while his eyes are fixated on your bouncing ass. white locks of hair stick to his forehead as he splits you open on his dick.

“so pretty,” the older man sighs. he turns your head sideways so you can look him in the eyes while he fucks you silly. he caresses your cheek gently, a contrast to the mocking grin on his lips and the rough thrusts against your ass, “too bad y’ got such a potty mouth on you.”

satoru pushes his index and middle finger between your lips to muffle your noises, “…but don’t worry, i’ll fix that for you. gladly.”

you eagerly suck on them between quick gasps of air, saliva trickling down his hand. your boyfriend redoubles his efforts, the fat tip of his dick hitting that special spot deep inside you.

his free hand reaches down to circle your clit. the double stimulation sends you into a state of pure bliss. your pupils are dilated as you struggle to find satoru’s gaze, head lolling back and forth with each powerful stroke.

perhaps this really was all you needed to help destress and forget all about your responsibilities. it feels good to not think about anything at all— your head empty except for the feeling of your cunt being filled.

satoru’s cock twitches inside of you with the urge to release a load in your womb. “give me it, please,” your voice is muffled as you plead with him. your hand sneaks downwards, trying to find his balls, “w-want your cum.”

your fingers toy with his sack once you find it. his pre-cum and your own juices now coat your skin as well, your hand enclosing around his balls, massaging them. it’s like you’re trying to coax his potent semen out of them and that alone makes satoru throw his head back in ecstasy.

“little cumslut. . .” satoru growls, brows furrowing as he tries not to shoot his cum inside of your greedy cunt right that second. the hand that was keeping you quiet quickly snatches your wrist and pins it against the bathroom wall.

“are you that desperate to get filled? yeah?” your boyfriend huffs, not stopping to catch his breath at all. his hips pound faster against your ass with renewed passion.

your lips are parted and they move, but not a single answer comes out of your mouth. you’re unable to think or talk because of the pleasure.

satoru takes that as a yes. the erotic sight of you being so lost in sin is enough to fuel his desire to fuck you harder. his hips never falter as he scoffs at your pathetic self, “tch, so addicted to my cock y’ can’t even answer me.”

you shake your head and search for your words. however, you fail, and all that you’re capable of communicating is what you need, “fuuuuck, yes i am—‘toru, need your cock ‘n cum— more.”

satoru lets go of your wrist to grab your jaw. he forces your head back again before he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. his tongue plunders inside your mouth, exploring every inch.

he pulls back to gasp for air and releases your jaw with a slight shove to grab your hips again. “more? hah,” the white-haired man lets out a haughty chuckle. he gives a particular hard thrust against your butt, tip kissing your cervix painfully yet deliciously, “y’ think you deserve more after that shit you pulled?”

satoru yanks your head back by your hair. the stinging sensation makes your scalp itchy, but it also increases your pleasure. he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice dangerously low, “nah, you gotta make this work.”

you could. you can make it work and that’s the truth. he could fuck you with just his tip and you’d be able to cum a couple times in a row.

jolts of pleasure run down your spine as satoru drives into you harder, the force of his thrusts rocking your entire body. you’re seeing stars and the words roll off your tongue, “please, mhh, almost there!”

satoru groans. he can feel the delicious fluttering of your cunt around his cock, the telltale signs of an orgasm building. he has half a mind to pull out completely and let you writhe and beg him some more.

he contemplates it for a few seconds. the second your eyes start to roll back, signaling your impending climax, his cock slips out of your pussy. you whine and push your hips back in search for his dick- to fill the void he left.

satoru jerks himself off at the pitiful sight. he rubs his veiny shaft between your slick folds before slapping the tip against your cunt, letting it catch onto your entrance for a few times.

“begging like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. y’ can do better,” your boyfriend encourages in a sultry tone. one of his hands rest on your tummy, fingers splaying over your clothed skin. another filthy smack of his tip against your slit makes you shiver, “come on.”

you bite your lip out of frustration. you arch your back each time the fat head of his cock catches onto your gaping hole, hoping to slip it in, but you can't. you tilt your head back and lock eyes with satoru close up behind you.

“please let me cum, 'toru. i'll be good, i promise,” you beg with a lewd pleading expression. one that make satoru's balls tighten with the urge to cum as well.

with a low groan, satoru snaps his hips forward, burying his dick inside of you once more, “there ya go. good girl, knew y’ had it in you.”

the praise and familiar feeling of his dick stretching you open is enough to push you over the edge. you nearly black out as your cunt spasms around him, your juices gushing out to coat his length and balls.

satoru grits his teeth once he feels your tight cunt clench viciously around his throbbing cock. your orgasm has a domino effect on your lover, causing him to hastily chase his own release. “shit! take it, princess. take it all inside this greedy fuckin' cunt,” he hisses and grinds his pelvis against the fat of your ass.

satoru buries himself to the hilt before his cock jerks and pulses, emptying his balls deep inside of you. his fingers dig into the meat of your butt, holding you in place as he grinds against you, making sure every last drop of his seed is nestled into your waiting womb.

“there y’ go, mhm—taking my load so deep,” your lover sighs and lowers his head, resting against your back. he hugs you tightly to his chest while you both catch your breath. he rides out his orgasm slowly, still grinding against you while he leaves lazy kisses on your nape.

a minute passes before you've regained your composure, somewhat. you smile as satoru kisses your temple lovingly, praising you for taking him so well. the switch back to his usual gentleman personality is much needed after such an intense moment.

“thank you, babe. i needed that,” you giggle as you rest back against his chest. thick, pearly globs of cum escape your pussy, dripping around his cock and onto your thighs, but neither of you could care less. the clean up is a problem for later.

satoru chuckles back at you as he leaves another loving kiss against your cheek. “i knew you did,” he murmurs and pets your head, “my poor girl has been working so hard on her assignments, hm? poor, poor baby.”

you playfully roll your eyes at the overexaggerated concern in your lover's voice, however you appreciate it.

satoru doesn't bother to pull out. first things first; he needs to get you all comfortable again and give you the aftercare you deserve. his hands massage your hips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, acting all lovey-dovey like he hasn't just shown you a more dominant side of him.

“how ‘bout we go home and order some food? we can cuddle and watch a movie together, ‘kay? i’ll take care of you, princess.”

[jincapableoflove]

A Jar Full of Us | one-shot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: best friend! jungkook, best friend! reader, college! au, unrequited love (?), idiots to lovers, best friends to ??? to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut.

Summary: You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, they’re in his hands. And Jungkook, your best friend, knows everything. But he doesn’t say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like he’s waiting for something. And this Valentine’s Day, you might just have to find out what.

Inspired by: To All the Boys I've Loved Before

Word count: 10.2K+

Warnings: arguments, jungkook is a jerk, misunderstandings (a lottt of it), angstttt, reader and jk are huge idiots, mutual pining, implied smut (its not too detailed so that the story maintains the emotional connectivity), romantic intimacy, tooth-rotting fluff.

MOODBOARD

A/N: HERE IT ISSS! this is the longest fic ive written! tysm for all the support yall have given me in the teaser of this fic. i put out a taglist thinking no one would actually want to be a part of it but so many of yall asked to be tagged 😭 im so grateful! tysm i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writng it. lmk ur thoughts abt it after u read too <3 ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYY (someone date me pls)

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the dorm, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night, one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to study.

Joy, your roommate, is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside your bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box. You pull it out carefully, as if it were a fragile secret, and place it on your lap.

A soft breath escapes you as you grab a nearby pen and a book, neatly tearing out a tiny slip of paper. The motion is second nature now. Without even thinking, you let your emotions spill onto the paper, crafting a fleeting moment into something permanent.

Tonight’s memory is simple, but it still tugs at your heart. Jungkook had sent you another blurry picture of the moon, captioned with a casual, “Looks kinda pretty, right?” He knew how much you loved the moon how it fascinated you in a way you could never quite put into words. And he had remembered. Of course, he had remembered.

A fond smile tugs at your lips as you write:

Jungkook remembers the little things.

Once the ink dries, you fold the note with care and add it to the collection. The box is almost full now, brimming with countless tiny confessions, whispers of feelings you’ve never had the courage to say aloud. A hundred little moments, a hundred little thoughts, all dedicated to the boy who had unknowingly stolen your heart.

Jungkook.

Jungkook, your best friend, who always saves you the last bite of his food, even when it’s his favorite. Jungkook, who sends you blurry pictures of the moon just because he knows you love them. Jungkook, who insists on studying with you, despite his major being entirely different from yours, just so he can make sure you actually open a book instead of procrastinating.

This little tradition of yours had started as a joke. One night, after an especially soft moment where Jungkook had wordlessly placed his hoodie over your head because you were shivering, you had scribbled on a piece of paper: Jungkook is warmer than the sun.

You had smiled to yourself as you rolled up the paper and dropped it into the box. It had felt oddly nice to preserve that moment, capturing the feeling of it in something tangible. So you did it again. And again. And again.

Until, one day, you realized you had written over a hundred of them.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love. And you certainly hadn’t planned to confess.

But each tiny slip of paper holds a truth your heart refuses to say aloud.

And you're going to keep it a secret forever.

You met Jungkook almost three years ago, during freshman year. The first time you met him, he had been infuriatingly kind.

You had been struggling under the weight of a precariously tall stack of books, barely able to see over them, when suddenly, a few disappeared from the top. Startled, you looked up to see Jungkook grinning at you, effortlessly holding the books you had nearly dropped.

"You looked like you were about to tip over," he teased, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

With a playful huff, you had responded, "Maybe I wanted it to tip over."

Jungkook had only laughed, shaking his head. "I'll catch you next time," he had promised.

That night, you had written a tiny note and slipped it into your box: He wants to catch me when I fall, even without me asking.

From that moment on, your friendship grew in ways you hadn’t even noticed at first. Midnight walks and late night study sessions became routine, pulling you closer together with every shared moment. What had started as swapping notes for the one class you had together turned into sharing secrets. Somewhere along the way, before you even realized it, Jungkook had become your favorite person.

The box was almost full now.

You had written so many things over the years, each note capturing a small piece of him, a fragment of your feelings. Some were simple observations:

Jungkook frowns when he eats something delicious.

His hair is always a mess in the mornings. He hates it, but I love it.

His eyes smile before his lips do.

But one night, you had written something different. Something deeper. Something that felt like the truest thing you had ever put to paper.

I love him.

The moment the ink dried, panic had set in. You had almost torn it up, almost removed it from the box as if keeping it there would somehow make it real. But in the end, you had left it. Because the box was safe. No one was going to see it.

Especially not Jungkook.

One afternoon, you came back from your classes, ready to relax and unwind before the stress of exams fully set in. You had been looking forward to a quiet evening, maybe even a movie marathon with Jungkook to take your mind off things for a while.

But the moment you stepped into your dorm, you felt something was off.

Joy was sitting on the couch, sipping her coffee, her expression smug... too smug. A knowing smirk curled at the corners of her lips as she watched you walk in, and instantly, your stomach twisted with unease.

You narrowed your eyes. "What did you do?"

"I did you a favor," she said casually, taking another slow sip of her coffee.

A cold shiver ran down your spine. "What favor?" you asked, dread creeping into your voice.

Joy grinned. "I found that little cute box of yours."

Your heart stopped. "What?"

"Don't look at me like that," she waved a hand dismissively, as if what she was about to say wasn’t about to shatter your entire world. "It was just sitting there collecting dust, and I thought—what a perfect Valentine's Day gift for Jungkook. So…I wrapped it up and dropped it off at his place."

Silence.

A deafening, all-consuming silence as her words echoed in your head.

"You WHAT?!"

Your entire body froze in place, your breath catching in your throat as horror washed over you in waves. Your chest felt tight, your pulse roaring in your ears.

Joy merely raised an eyebrow, seemingly unbothered by the sheer panic on your face. "You're welcome," she said cheekily before promptly sprinting out of the room for her life.

But you couldn’t chase after her. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the ringing in your ears.

No. No. No.

This couldn't be happening.

Still desperate to deny the possibility, you dropped to your knees and scrambled to check under your bed, your hands shaking as you reached into the familiar space where you had hidden the box for years.

Empty.

It was gone.

The tiny wooden box that held a hundred little moments, a hundred little secrets—your secrets—was gone.

And now it was in Jungkook's hands.

Of all people… Jungkook.

Jungkook lived in an apartment a little further away from your dorm. The second the realization hit, you bolted out the door without a second thought, heart pounding so hard it nearly drowned out the sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

Your plan was simple. Get to his apartment before he did. You knew his habits well enough to guess that he was probably grabbing a late lunch at that fast-food place near campus. If luck was on your side, you still had time.

He hadn’t seen it yet.

He couldn’t have seen it yet.

As you ran, your mind spiralled into chaos, bombarding you with every possible scenario, each one worse than the last.

What if he had already opened it?

What if he read through every single note?

What if he found the one that said I love him?

Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Jungkook was your best friend.

He was your person.

And now, he might know that you wanted to be more than just friends.

The mere thought made your chest tighten as memories of the two of you flashed through your mind. The times you spent together at the arcade, the countless movie nights, the time you and Jungkook had crashed Jimin’s birthday party with a ridiculous amount of booze.

And then…there was that moment.

The moment you almost confessed.

"I wish I could find someone who truly understood me," he had said one night, his voice softer than usual, lost in thought.

And you had almost said it. The words had been on the tip of your tongue, so painfully close—"I do."

But you swallowed them down.

Because what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if saying those words ruined everything?

And now, thanks to Joy, you didn’t have a choice anymore. The truth was out there, sitting in a neatly wrapped box in Jungkook’s apartment.

The thought of his reaction sent your mind into overdrive.

Would he laugh?

Would he think it was weird?

Would he—

Would he reject you?

No. No. No.

You shook your head violently as you rounded the corner, lungs burning from the sprint. You’re going to get there before he does. You’re going to take the box back, and he’s never going to know about it.

That was the plan.

It had to work.

As soon as you reached Jungkook’s apartment building, you barely paused to catch your breath. Your legs ached from running, but panic kept you moving. You made a beeline for the mailbox section in the lobby, frantically scanning the names, searching for his.

Box 109.

You yanked it open.

Empty.

Your stomach sank.

Maybe his roommate took it upstairs? Yeah. That had to be it. Maybe it was sitting untouched on the kitchen counter, still wrapped, still safe, still unseen.

You latched onto that sliver of hope as you rushed up the stairs two at a time, unwilling to wait for the elevator. By the time you reached his floor, your hands were shaking. You raised a fist and knocked on the door, urgency making your knuckles sting.

No response.

You knocked again, harder this time.

Then, finally, you heard shuffling from inside. A few footsteps. The creak of the floorboards. A pause.

The door swung open.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing right in front of you, framed in the dim light of his apartment, wearing an oversized grey hoodie that draped over his frame in a way that shouldn't have been so unfairly attractive. His dark hair was slightly damp, messy from a shower, strands falling into his eyes. His lips were parted in surprise, his brows slightly furrowed, and the expression on his face—confused yet soft, dangerously soft—made your already erratic heartbeat lurch violently.

But then, your gaze dropped to his hands.

And the world stopped.

The box.

The open box.

Your box.

Your secret, sacred collection of unsent confessions, of words meant only for the safety of your own solitude. The pieces of your heart you had never dared to show him.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

No, no, no, no—

"You—" You gasped, barely able to form words, chest rising and falling rapidly as you fought for air. "You opened it?"

Jungkook blinked, holding the box loosely in one hand, fingers curled around the edges as if he had been going through its contents just moments ago. He tilted his head, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah," he said simply, as if the weight of the universe hadn’t just come crashing down on you.

Oh. Oh no.

Your legs wobbled. You had to physically stop yourself from collapsing right there in front of him.

His gaze flickered downward, and you followed it instinctively. In his other hand, he held one of the notes. One of your notes. The handwriting was unmistakably yours, a little smudged, a little rushed, but still legible.

He cleared his throat, then read aloud.

"I don’t know when it happened. But one day, he became my favorite person."

Silence.

It stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

You thought you might actually pass out.

"Jungkook, I—" Your voice cracked, but before you could even attempt to explain, he looked up and met your eyes.

And then, to your absolute horror—

He smiled.

Not a teasing smirk, not an awkward grimace, but a real, genuine, knowing smile. A little shy, a little amused, as if the weight of what he had just discovered didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it did you.

And then—oh god—he spoke again.

"So… do you still think my hair looks best when it’s messy?"

Your breath hitched.

Your brain went blank.

You wanted to scream.

The change was almost instant.

In the days that followed, Jungkook became… different.

Not in the way you had imagined, though.

You had been bracing yourself for a talk, a conversation where he’d tell you gently, maybe even apologetically, that he didn’t feel the same way. Or, at the very least, a moment of awkwardness before things slowly went back to normal.

But instead, Jungkook just… pulled away.

It started subtly at first. He stopped texting as much. The late-night calls that once lasted for hours dwindled into one-word replies and seen messages. The casual lunch meetups, the spontaneous arcade runs, the easy, natural way he used to gravitate towards you in a crowded room. all of it changed.

And yet, despite the distance, he never fully let you go.

Instead, he turned it into a joke.

Like today, when he leaned in far too close for comfort, during your shared class. His voice was low, teasing, the warmth of his breath fanning against your ear.

"So, I’m warmer than the sun, huh?"

You stiffened instantly, your hands tightening around your pen. He pulled back with a smirk, his dark eyes glittering with mischief as he watched your reaction unfold in real-time.

It was unbearable.

He kept doing it.

Whenever you tried to talk to him— really talk to him —he would either dodge the conversation entirely or turn it into something lighthearted, something unserious.

Like the time you finally found him alone, determined to just get it over with, to ask what had changed between you two. Before you could even get the words out, he cut you off with another one of those smirks, his voice laced with amusement.

"So I look best in black? Good to know."

And then he walked away.

That was when you finally got the message.

Jungkook had taken it as a joke.

He didn’t care about your feelings.

It was like the caring, affectionate boy you had known for years had vanished the moment your heart had been laid bare. Like now that the truth was out in the open, he didn’t know how to handle it so he chose to mock it instead.

And worst of all?

He was pulling away from you completely.

The time you used to spend together? Gone. He was hanging out with other people now, filling his days with anyone but you. And when you did manage to cross paths, he only acknowledged you through those insufferable little comments, those cruel reminders of the things you had never meant for him to see.

It hurt. More than you wanted to admit.

Because maybe you had hoped that if he knew how you felt…

He wouldn’t push you away like this.

The next week brought the on-campus career fair an event mandatory for all students. You weren’t particularly excited about it, but at least it was a distraction, something to keep your mind occupied.

Or so you thought.

Because that’s when you saw him.

And he wasn’t alone.

He was walking around with Hana, a junior from your college. They moved easily through the crowd, side by side, completely immersed in conversation. And then, to make things even worse... he laughed.

A real laugh. The kind that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes crinkle, the kind you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

Your stomach twisted.

You weren’t expecting him to make it this obvious.

If he wanted to reject you, fine. If he didn’t feel the same way, you could live with that. But did he really have to parade it around like this?

Maybe this was his way of sending a message. Maybe he wanted you to know, without actually having to say it out loud.

A silent rejection.

What a jerk.

These days, you barely have the motivation to attend classes. You go through the motions, waking up, dragging yourself to campus, sitting through lectures. But your mind isn’t really there.

Because no matter how hard you try to distract yourself, the brutal reality of rejection lingers like a shadow, following you everywhere you go.

Jungkook threw away your feelings like they meant nothing.

You should have expected it, right? You should have known this was how it would turn out.

Maybe you were never meant to be anything more than a friend to him. Maybe, the moment he realized you held deeper feelings for him, he got scared. Or worse, maybe he just didn’t care at all.

The thought makes your chest ache.

Jungkook has always been a romantic at heart. You’ve seen it in the way he talks about love, in the way he watches romance movies with a dreamy look in his eyes. But clearly, you were never part of that dream.

And now, because of your stupid feelings, you’ve ruined everything.

You used to be his best friend. The one he joked around with, the one he trusted, the one he leaned on.

But now?

Now he barely looks at you.

And if he does, it's only to throw some teasing remark your way like your feelings were some kind of joke.

The person you were most angry at was Joy.

Not Jungkook. Not yourself.

Joy.

Because none of this would have happened if she had just left that damn box alone.

That day after the box incident, the moment you stepped back into your dorm, she was there, lounging on the couch like nothing had happened. She glanced up as you walked in, a smirk already forming on her lips.

“I didn’t expect you to come back so early. I thought you guys would—” she wiggled her eyebrows—“get freaky after the whole confession, you know?”

She laughed, expecting you to groan or throw a pillow at her like usual.

But then she saw your face.

Her laughter faded. “Wait… what happened?”

You didn’t answer. You just walked past her and sank into the couch, staring at nothing, your mind still replaying every moment from earlier—Jungkook’s teasing, his smirk, his distance.

You heard Joy shuffle closer, her voice softer now. “I… I’m sorry. Did I send the gift too early? Did Jungkook not like it?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, no, he loved it.” You turned to her, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you so much for your help, Joy.”

Her expression faltered. “Wait… what do you mean?”

You shook your head, exhaling sharply. “Jungkook probably thinks I’m pathetic now.”

Joy winced. She sat beside you on the couch, guilt written all over her face. “I— I really thought—” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I was so sure, though. That boy always had heart eyes for you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, now you know he didn’t.”

Silence settled between you both.

And for the first time, Joy didn’t have anything to say.

The next time you see Jungkook, he’s with Hana again.

They’re standing by one of the campus notice boards, deep in conversation. You don’t mean to eavesdrop you’re not even sure why you stop but the moment you hear them talking, something in your gut tells you to listen.

Hana tilts her head, her voice low but clear. “Are you sure she won't find out?”

Jungkook sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know… Maybe it's better this way”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your first instinct is denial maybe they’re not talking about you. Maybe it’s about someone else entirely. But deep down, you know.

As far as you’re aware, there isn’t another she in Jungkook’s life. Not before. Not when you were still close.

You’ve already been replaced.

Your chest aches as you piece it together. He doesn't want you to find out because he's probably in a relationship with Hana now. Because he doesn’t want to hurt you with a direct rejection, he thinks hiding his relationship with her is the kinder option.

It isn’t.

You swallow the lump in your throat and force yourself to step back, turning away from the scene before you can hear any more.

You decide then that no matter how much it hurts, no matter how pathetic it makes you feel, you can’t bear being apart from Jungkook.

Even if he doesn’t love you back.

Even if he only sees you as a friend.

Losing him completely? That’s not something you’re ready for. Maybe you never will be.

So, you do the only thing you can think of.

You wait for him after class.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you watch the door, your hands clammy with nerves. When Jungkook finally steps out, your breath catches. He looks the same—same hoodie, same soft brown eyes—but everything feels different now.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward.

"I get it, okay?" you say, voice firm despite the way your throat tightens. "You don’t like me. And that’s fine. I hope she makes you happy."

Jungkook halts mid-step.

His jaw clenches. His fists curl at his sides.

"You don’t understand," he mutters.

"Then make me understand, Jungkook," you plead. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to keep going, even as your last shred of dignity slips through your fingers. "Can we still be friends, at least?"

Silence.

Jungkook doesn’t reply.

And somehow, that hurts more than rejection ever could.

There's a party happening, hosted by one of the biggest party animals on campus. Everyone is invited, and Joy insists that you go.

After much convincing, you finally give in. You've mended things with her and finally forgiven her. Maybe it wasn’t entirely her fault. Maybe you just needed someone to blame.

You decide to go, hoping for a distraction. Maybe the music, the drinks, and the endless chatter will help you forget, even if just for a night.

But you already know Jungkook will be there.

Probably Hana too.

And that's fine.

You'll just stay out of their way.

The party is in full swing when you arrive with loud music, flashing lights, bodies moving wildly on the dance floor, and the unmistakable smell of booze in the air. Bottles are being passed around, and the energy is electric.

A few friends from your classes spot you and pull you in, offering drinks. You take them all without hesitation, reaching for the strongest ones, letting the alcohol burn away the ache in your chest.

Jungkook is nowhere in sight.

Good. Maybe he didn’t come. Maybe you can actually enjoy yourself tonight.

With the alcohol settling in, your limbs feel lighter, your mind a little hazy. You dance to the outdated playlist blaring through the speakers, laugh with strangers, and let yourself let go just for a while.

But after some time, it all feels like too much. The heat, the noise, the overwhelming buzz in your veins. You slip away from the crowd and make your way to the rooftop, breathing in the crisp night air, letting it cool your flushed skin.

And then you sense someone else's presence.

You turn, your head spinning slightly, and there he is.

Jungkook.

You blink, wondering if you're imagining him, but his gaze is fixed on you, a slight furrow between his brows. There's something like concern in his expression as he watches you, taking in your drunken state.

Your heart stumbles in your chest.

The alcohol makes everything feel lighter, your body, your thoughts, your inhibitions. So when you see Jungkook standing there, looking at you with that unreadable expression, the words just spill out before you can stop them.

“I liked you, you know,” you mumble, swaying slightly. “But now I realize… I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook doesn’t react. No apology, no denial, not even a flicker of emotion across his face.

He just exhales softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ll be fine,” he says simply, then turns on his heel and walks away.

Just like that.

The cool night air suddenly feels suffocating, the weight in your chest heavier than ever. You watch his retreating figure, your heart shattering all over again.

The next morning, you wake up with the nastiest headache ever. Your head throbs, your mouth is dry, and your body feels like it’s been wrung out. You groan, forcing yourself to sit up as the hazy memories from last night slowly piece themselves together.

Jungkook. The rooftop. The way he just… walked away like he didn’t care.

You shake the thought from your mind, dragging yourself out of bed. There’s no point dwelling on it. Your exams are approaching, and you need to focus.

Deciding to get some studying done, you head to the library. The quiet atmosphere should help clear your head or at least distract you from the mess that is your life.

But the moment you step inside, your breath catches.

Jungkook is sitting at the table you both used to frequent, completely absorbed in scribbling something into a notebook. For a second, you consider turning around, but then something catches your eye.

He rips out a small piece of paper, folds it neatly, and without hesitation, slips it into a glass jar sitting beside him.

Your heart clenches.

Is it for Hana?

You don’t stick around to find out. Before Jungkook can notice you, you turn on your heel and walk away.

February 10th. Your birthday.

You wake up with a small flicker of hope. Maybe today would be different. Maybe Jungkook had been ignoring you all this time because he was planning something, some kind of surprise. That had to be it, right?

Surely.

So you wait.

By 3 PM, your phone is filled with messages from friends, family, even distant relatives reaching out to wish you. Everyone but Jungkook.

Not even a single text.

The hope that had carried you through the day starts to crumble, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t go to class. What’s the point? This might just be the worst birthday ever.

That’s when Joy bursts into your room with a grin.

"You got a package!" she announces, holding out a neatly wrapped box.

Your heart leaps.

Jungkook?

You rush over, fingers fumbling as you tear open the wrapping, only for your stomach to drop.

It’s from your parents.

Disappointment washes over you, but you push it aside. They went through the trouble of sending you something, and you should be grateful. You take a deep breath, forcing a smile as you pick up your phone and call them.

"Thank you," you say, voice steady. Because at least someone remembered.

There was still time.

It was only evening plenty of hours left before midnight. Jungkook would surely text before then. He had to.

Joy, noticing your gloomy mood, tries to lift your spirits. "Come on, let’s go out drinking. Have some fun, at least for your birthday."

But you shake your head. "I’m not in the mood."

She sighs, clearly frustrated but doesn’t push you. Instead, she flops onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. "I hate this," she mutters. "I hate seeing you like this. And I hate him for treating you this way."

Her voice is laced with anger, but there’s something else there too—guilt.

Because deep down, Joy still blames herself.

If she hadn’t sent that gift early, if she hadn’t tried to play cupid, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way. Maybe you wouldn’t be spending your birthday like this waiting for a boy who might never come around.

Jungkook didn’t text that day.

He forgot your birthday.

You waited all day, checking your phone every few minutes, hoping for a message that never came. Midnight passed, and still nothing.

The realization settles deep in your chest, heavier than you expected. You feel pathetic.

Pathetic for hoping. Pathetic for waiting. Pathetic for still caring.

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day.

You can’t afford to miss any more classes. You haven’t stepped foot on campus since your birthday, but today, you decide to go.

You have no motivation to see or talk to anyone. You tell yourself that you’ll just quietly attend your classes and head straight back home. No distractions. No unnecessary interactions.

But as soon as you reach campus, you notice a crowd gathering. There’s some kind of matchmaking event happening for Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

Great. Just great.

Everything about it feels like the universe is mocking you, rubbing salt on an already raw wound. Heart-shaped decorations, pink confetti floating in the air, and couples laughing completely oblivious to how suffocating it feels for you.

You try to move past the crowd, but suddenly, someone pushes forward, and you get caught in the chaos. You stumble, losing your balance and bracing for impact—

But you don’t hit the ground.

Because Jungkook catches you.

His hands grip your arms, steadying you out of instinct. His touch is firm and warm, familiar in a way that makes your chest ache.

For the first time in days, you look up at him. And for the first time in days, he looks right back at you.

He doesn’t let go of you immediately.

His grip stays firm, his fingers pressing into your arms like he’s grounding himself, like he’s hesitating. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something.

The music playing in the background fades into a distant hum. Everything around you slows. The laughter, the chatter, the festival lights it all blurs.

All that’s left is him.

Still holding you.

Your voice barely comes out, a whisper against the space between you.

“Do you even care, Jungkook?”

His hands tighten for a fraction of a second. His jaw clenches. And for a brief, fleeting moment, you think you see something something raw and unspoken flash through his eyes.

But then, like a switch flipping, he lets go.

So fast that you nearly stumble again.

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words cut through the air, sharp and merciless.

Then he turns. Walks away.

And you’re left standing there, alone in the middle of a festival meant for love.

This is it.

This is your answer.

Jungkook has made his choice.

And now, it’s time for you to make yours.

You have to move on.

That night, you decide. Jungkook was never meant to be yours.

It’s a painful truth, one you’ve been avoiding, but tonight, you accept it.

Needing a distraction, you start clearing out your closet, pulling out old clothes, forgotten trinkets, anything to keep your hands busy. That’s when you see it.

The pink heart-shaped box.

Your breath hitches.

You had snatched it from his hands that day, barely able to meet his gaze before bolting out of his apartment and driving straight back to your dorm. You had shoved it deep into your closet, hoping that if you buried it away, you could bury your feelings too.

For a moment, you consider throwing it away. What’s the point of holding onto it now? Jungkook knows. He read the notes, saw every piece of your heart laid bare. And in the end, it changed nothing.

Your fingers tremble as you lift the lid.

One by one, you pull out the little folded papers, unfolding memories you once held so close.

"I don’t know when it happened, but one day, he became my favourite person."

"His laugh is my favorite sound."

"I wish he knew how much he means to me."

Tears blur your vision.

You never wanted him to know.

Because you never wanted to lose him.

And now, you have.

The weight of it crashes over you all at once, and before you can stop it, the tears spill over, hot and relentless.

You clutch the notes to your chest as silent sobs wrack your body.

You’ve been holding the pain in for too long.

So tonight, you let the dams break.

And you cry yourself to sleep.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You feel miserable.

Forget having a Valentine this year, you don’t even have a best friend anymore.

So you stay in bed all day, buried under the covers, refusing to acknowledge the world outside.

Your mind drifts, unbidden, to last year’s Valentine’s Day.

You and Jungkook had gone out for dinner not as lovers, not as anything more than friends, just two people who didn’t have dates. You remember how he laughed at the terrible restaurant music, how he stole fries from your plate like they were his.

You miss it.

No—wait. You shouldn’t be thinking about him.

Shaking off the thought, you grab your Nintendo Switch and start playing, trying to distract yourself.

Then the doorbell rings.

You ignore it. Joy is probably home she’ll get it.

But it rings again.

What is Joy doing?

Then it hits you that she probably stayed over at her boyfriend’s place last night.

With a groan, you push off the covers and make your way to the door. You swing it open, ready to shoo away whoever it is—

But there’s no one there.

Your gaze drops to the ground.

And then you see it.

A singular jar, placed carefully on the doormat.

You stare at the jar, a strange sense of familiarity creeping in, but you can’t quite place it.

Where have you seen something like this before?

Your mind scrambles for an answer, flipping through memories like pages in a book, but nothing surfaces.

With hesitant fingers, you reach down and pick it up, feeling the cool glass against your palm. It’s heavier than you expected.

That’s when you notice the writing on the lid, scrawled in red marker.

"To Y/N."

Your heart stutters.

You blink, trying to steady your breath, but the moment feels unreal—like you’ve stepped into a dream.

It’s only then that you notice the jar is filled with tiny rolled-up notes, crammed inside like secrets waiting to be unraveled.

Your mind starts spiraling.

What is this? Who left it? Why does it have your name?

Your hands tremble as you twist the lid open, the slight pop of the seal echoing in the silence.

You reach inside, fingers brushing against the countless little slips of paper.

With bated breath, you pull one out.

You carefully unroll it, eyes scanning the words scribbled in rushed, familiar handwriting.

"I lied."

That’s all it says.

Two words.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes trace the messy yet unmistakable handwriting.

Jungkook.

Your fingers tighten around the note as your pulse quickens.

It’s his.

The realization slams into you with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned.

Your breath turns shallow as the memory crashes into you—

Yesterday.

The crowd. The music. The overwhelming blur of people around you.

You had stumbled, nearly falling, only for Jungkook to catch you. For a fleeting moment, he held you close. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable.

You had searched his face, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you even care, Jungkook?"

You had wanted him to say yes. Even a little. Anything to make the ache in your chest feel less unbearable.

But instead—

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words had cut deeper than you ever thought possible.

And then he had let go. So fast, like touching you had burned him. Like you meant nothing at all.

You remember the way your heart had cracked, the way he had disappeared into the sea of people, leaving you stranded in the middle of a festival meant for love.

But now... Now you stand here, gripping a jar full of his words.

"I lied."

Your hands fumble as you reach into the jar again, pulling out another note.

Unrolling it with shaky fingers, you read:

"I thought if I pushed you away, it’d be easier for you to move on. But the truth is, I don’t want you to."

A sharp pang strikes your chest.

Your mind reels, and suddenly, you're back at the rooftop party—drunk, vulnerable, spilling your heart out in slurred words.

“I liked you, you know? But now I realize I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook had stood there, silent, unreadable, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

No apology. No denial. Nothing.

And then, just as effortlessly, he had turned away.

"You'll be fine," he'd said before walking off, leaving you alone in the cold night.

The memory burns like an open wound, and yet, here you are, standing in your doorway, holding the truth he should have told you that night in the palm of your hands.

Your fingers tremble as you pull out the next note.

"I missed your birthday on purpose because I wanted to give you something that lasts longer than a text."

Your breath hitches.

He didn’t forget?

He chose not to text?

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, but it fades just as quickly as the weight of his words settles in.

You reach into the jar again, pulling out another note, heart pounding against your ribs.

What you didn’t know was that Jungkook had spent hours writing your birthday note.

He had sat at his desk that night, a dozen crumpled papers around him, rewriting the same message over and over, never satisfied. His hands had been shaky when he finally folded the note and slipped it into the jar.

Because words were permanent.

Because he was afraid.

Because deep down, he knew that if he told you how much you really meant to him, he wouldn’t be able to push you away anymore.

And that terrified him.

Your grip on the jar tightens as you pull out the next note.

"I was scared you’d see me in the library that day. And you did. I almost stopped writing. But I wanted to finish this for you."

Your breath catches in your throat as a memory rushes back—

The library.

That afternoon, when you had finally dragged yourself back to campus to study for your exams, you had seen him sitting at your usual table, scribbling something into his notebook.

At the time, you thought nothing of it until you watched him tear out a tiny slip of paper and slip it into a jar.

A jar.

The very same one you now hold in your trembling hands.

Back then, you had turned away, assuming it was for Hana.

But it wasn’t.

It was for you.

Every note in this jar was for you.

Your vision blurs as you stare down at the tiny rolled-up messages still waiting to be read.

He had been writing to you all along.

By the time you reach the last few notes, your hands are trembling. Maybe you can’t even read them through the tears clouding your vision. The weight of all those misunderstandings, every ignored confession, every painful silence, every moment you thought he didn’t care, crashes down on you all at once.

Your breath is uneven as you unroll another slip of paper.

"You thought I didn’t care. But I did. I always did."

A sob escapes your lips, the ache in your chest unbearable.

You clutch the jar against you like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held because it is. Because it’s him.

Every unspoken word. Every hidden feeling. Every truth he was too afraid to say aloud.

And now, you finally know.

Your breath catches as you reach the bottom of the jar, realizing the significance there are exactly 100 notes, just like the box you once gave him.

With shaky hands, you pull out the 99th note.

“I was always bad at saying things out loud. So I wrote them instead. I just hope it’s not too late for you to read them.”

Your chest tightens.

You take a deep breath and reach for the last note, your fingers trembling. Slowly, you unroll it, heart pounding in your ears.

“Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

The paper almost slips from your fingers as your vision blurs with fresh tears. A shaky laugh escapes your lips, somewhere between disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

After everything, after all the silence, the pain, the misunderstandings he’s finally saying it.

And suddenly, all that matters is what you’ll do next.

The moment the words register, you don’t think.

The jar nearly slips from your grasp as you scramble to your feet, your heartbeat hammering louder than the thoughts racing through your mind. Jungkook. He couldn’t have gone far he must have just dropped it off.

You fling the door open, barefoot, barely even stopping to grab your keys. The cold air bites at your skin, but you don’t care. You sprint down the stairs, nearly stumbling in your rush to get outside.

Your eyes dart wildly around the street, your breath coming out in frantic puffs. Where is he?

Then, you see him.

A few feet away, Jungkook is walking slowly, hands in his pockets, head low like he’s already bracing for disappointment. Like he’s already convinced you won’t come after him.

But you do.

“Jungkook!”

He freezes.

You don’t stop running until you’re right in front of him, breathless, clutching the jar close to your chest like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment.

His eyes widen when he sees you messy hair, no shoes, trembling hands still gripping his gift like it’s the most important thing in the world.

You swallow hard, voice shaking. “Did you mean it?”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, the night stretching between you like a fragile thread.

Then, barely above a whisper, “Yeah.”

Your chest heaves, breath uneven, voice shaking as you clutch the jar tighter.

"You absolute jerk." Your voice wavers, but the anger, the hurt, the sheer weight of everything he’s put you through spills out in every word. "You sat there, letting me think I meant nothing to you. And the whole time, you were—" You shake the jar, almost laughing in disbelief. "—writing these?"

Jungkook doesn’t answer. He just stands there, hands stuffed in his pockets, jaw tight, like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say next.

"You could’ve just told me, Jungkook. You could’ve just—" You pause, gripping the jar like it’s the only thing holding you together. "Why? Why lie to me?"

He exhales sharply, his voice rough, like he’s been holding it in for too long.

"Because I was a coward."

You blink. You weren’t expecting him to admit it so easily.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, looking away. "I thought pushing you away was the right thing to do. If I let you think I didn’t care, maybe you’d move on. Maybe you’d find someone who wouldn’t hurt you like I did."

Your throat tightens. Your fingers dig into the glass of the jar. "You were the one hurting me, Jungkook."

His eyes finally meet yours, and the weight of them almost knocks the air from your lungs. He looks wrecked.

"I know." His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Then why?" Your voice trembles, frustration bubbling over. "Why did you let me think I was chasing something that wasn’t even there?"

His jaw clenches, and for a second, he doesn’t answer. But then, his voice comes, low and raw.

"Because I was afraid you’d realize you deserved better."

Silence settles between you. A silence so thick it presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You stare at him, your vision blurring. You should walk away. You should scream, cry, or do anything. But instead, you do the only thing you can think of.

You reach into the jar, grab a note at random, and shove it into his hand. "Read it."

Jungkook hesitates. Then, slowly, he unfolds the paper. His fingers tremble as he reads the words he once wrote.

"If I had been braver, I would’ve told you every single day how much you meant to me."

He sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the paper like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes flick back up to yours, burning with something you can’t quite name.

"Say it now," you whisper.

Jungkook's breath catches. His grip on the note tightens like it’s the only thing keeping him together.

You wait. Trembling, heart pounding, eyes locked onto his. Daring him to finally, finally say it.

He exhales shakily. His voice is low, rough like it hurts to speak, but he does anyway.

"Y/N…"

You don’t look away. Don’t let him run from this.

His throat bobs. His hand curls into a fist at his side, then slowly unclenches.

"I love you."

A sharp inhale cuts through you. Even though you were waiting for it, the words hit like a tidal wave.

Jungkook shakes his head, almost laughing, but there’s no humor in it just raw, aching regret.

"I loved you then. I love you now. And I don’t think there’s a single version of me that won’t love you."

Your vision blurs, the weight of everything pressing down on you all at once.

"Then why—" your voice cracks, "—why did you let me think you didn’t?"

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. His face twists with something close to pain.

"Because I was scared." His voice is barely above a whisper. "Scared that if I let myself have you, I’d ruin you. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth it."

Your hands clench at your sides. "You don’t get to decide that for me."

He nods. Swallows hard. Takes a step closer.

"I know." His voice is softer now. "And if I could go back, I’d do it all differently. But I can’t. All I can do is stand here and tell you—"

Your lips crash into his, years of longing and heartbreak unraveling in a single, desperate moment. Your fingers fist into his jacket, pulling him closer, closing the distance like you’ve been waiting forever. Because you have.

Jungkook catches you. His arms wind tight around your waist, grounding you, anchoring you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. His grip is firm, unyielding, as if holding you is the only thing that makes sense anymore.

The kiss isn’t soft it’s frantic, raw, filled with all the words you never got to say. It’s a confession, an apology, a plea. His lips move against yours with urgency, pouring everything into it, like he’s trying to make up for every second he spent pushing you away.

Jungkook tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs through you as his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath hitch. His other hand spreads against your back, pressing you impossibly closer, like even this isn’t enough, like he’d fuse you together if he could.

You melt. Every wall you built, every ounce of anger, every misunderstanding crumbling, dissolving into the heat of him. The way he kisses you feels like an answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking. Like a promise.

When you finally pull apart, neither of you lets go.

Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours, still uneven, still shaken. His hands remain on your waist like he’s afraid that the second he lets go, this will all disappear.

Your fingers stay curled in his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

His voice is raw when he finally speaks, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”

You exhale, shaking your head, the weight of everything still pressing against your chest. Your voice is quiet, but steady. “Then spend every day proving that you do.”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh one that sounds broken and real, like he can’t believe he’s still allowed to have this moment with you.

“Deal,” he murmurs.

And then he kisses you again.

The door barely clicks shut before Jungkook is on you again, his hands framing your face as his lips crash into yours. There’s no hesitation now, no careful restraint only heat, only the raw, aching need that’s been simmering between you for far too long.

His body presses against yours, pushing you back into the door, and you gasp against his lips. He swallows the sound, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping over yours with slow, deliberate intent. He tastes like something addictive like want, like longing, like the kind of hunger that makes your stomach tighten and your knees go weak.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer. His hands roam down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips skimming along your bare skin. His touch is scorching, leaving a trail of fire wherever he moves. He pauses, his breath ragged, lips barely brushing yours.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, voice rough, uneven.

You shake your head, tilting your chin up until your lips ghost over his again. "I don’t want you to stop."

The words break something inside him.

His mouth crashes onto yours again, hungrier this time, more desperate. His hands slide up your back, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the hard lines of his body, the way his chest rises and falls unsteadily against yours. One hand grips your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you shudder, while the other slides lower, gripping your thigh and hitching it up against his hip.

A quiet moan escapes you at the feeling, and he groans in response, pressing harder into you. His lips leave yours, trailing a path down your jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, where he lingers. His teeth scrape lightly against your skin before he soothes it with his tongue, sucking gently, enough to make you arch into him, enough to make your breath hitch.

"Jungkook—" His name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, and he exhales sharply against your skin, like the sound is enough to undo him.

His grip tightens as he lifts you effortlessly, hands settling under your thighs. Instinct takes over, and your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you across the room. He lays you down on the bed with care, but there’s nothing careful about the way he follows you down, covering your body with his own.

He hovers above you, his breath warm against your lips, his dark eyes searching yours. His thumb brushes over your cheek, then lower, tracing the curve of your bottom lip, his touch unbearably light.

"You’re sure?" he whispers, voice thick with something heady.

Your only answer is a whispered "Yes," breathless, certain.

Something shifts in him at your words. His lips find yours again, but this time, he takes his time exploring, savoring, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you. His kisses trail downward, along the curve of your neck, across your collarbone, his mouth mapping out a path of heat and sensation. His hands move with just as much purpose, slipping under fabric, pushing it aside, fingers tracing bare skin with an intimacy that makes your pulse stutter.

Every brush of his lips, every slow, deliberate touch sends waves of electricity through you, igniting something deep and primal. Clothes are discarded in slow, teasing movements, the heat between you building with every layer that falls away.

His lips ghost over your shoulder, down your arm, over the curve of your breasts, his breath hot and uneven. He watches you, eyes dark with something intense, something almost reverent, as his fingers trace slow, lazy patterns along your bare skin.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, voice filled with something deeper than desire.

You reach for him, pulling him back up, needing his mouth on yours again, needing more. He obliges, kissing you fiercely, like he never wants to stop, like this moment has been waiting to happen for far too long.

His hands explore moving towards your heat, his touch reverent yet possessive, like he’s memorizing every inch of you, like he’s making up for all the lost time. You arch into him, breath hitching, hands gripping onto his shoulders as heat coils low in your stomach.

"Jungkook," you whisper, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

His breath catches, and he exhales shakily. "I’ve got you," he murmurs against your skin, voice barely above a whisper. "I’m right here."

And then there’s no more talking only movement, only passion, only the feeling of finally, finally being exactly where you both belong.

The air is thick with warmth, bodies tangled beneath the sheets, hearts pounding in tandem as the last echoes of your shared breaths settle between you. The world outside might still be turning, but in this moment, it doesn’t exist. It’s just you and him, skin against skin, the weight of what just happened pressing down like the softest, heaviest thing in the world.

Your body is spent, muscles trembling faintly from the aftershocks, but you don’t move. You can’t.

Jungkook is still holding you. One arm draped lazily around your waist, the other tracing absentminded patterns against your back. His touch is slow, soothing, like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re real. Like if he lets go, you might slip away.

You stay like that for a while, chests rising and falling in sync, your head resting just above his heart. The rhythm of it is steady now, no longer racing like it had been just moments ago. Still, there’s a softness to it, an unspoken question lingering in the quiet space between you.

It’s you who finally breaks it.

“So…” You shift slightly, fingers trailing absentmindedly along his chest. “Hana knew about the jar?”

His hand stills for the briefest moment before he exhales a small, breathy laugh. His voice is thick with exhaustion, but there’s amusement in it too.

“She didn’t just know about it.” His fingers resume their slow, idle circles against your bare skin. “It was her idea.”

You blink. “…What?”

Jungkook hums in confirmation, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Yeah. She was the one who told me to do it—to fill a jar with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t.” He pauses, then adds, “She also threatened to expose me if I didn’t.”

You scoff, though you can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. “So let me get this straight… You couldn’t tell me how you felt, but you told Hana?”

Jungkook turns his head slightly to look at you, eyes still heavy with sleep, but the amusement in them is undeniable. “I didn’t tell her. She just… figured it out.”

Of course, she did.

You huff, feigning annoyance, but your fingers betray you, tracing soft, aimless patterns along his collarbone. “Still. She knew before I did.”

Jungkook grins, rolling onto his side to face you fully. One hand slips beneath the sheets, finding your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. His voice is low when he asks, “Are you jealous?”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

His laughter vibrates against your skin, rich and warm, before he dips down to kiss you, like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t say into it. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet.

Then, softer now, more serious, he murmurs, “Are you gonna answer me?”

Your brow furrows slightly. “Answer what?”

Jungkook leans over, reaching toward the nightstand where the jar still sits, its notes untouched except for the last one.

“The question,” he says, retrieving the single unfolded slip of paper. He holds it between you, and even though you already know what it says, your heart still stutters when your eyes skim over the words again.

Y/N, will you be my Valentine?

Earlier, you had left it unanswered, too overwhelmed by everything that had come before it. But now, after everything after confessions, after heartbreak, after finally finding each other again—there’s no hesitation.

You reach out, plucking the note from his fingers. Slowly, carefully, you fold it again, tucking it beneath your pillow like something precious, something worth keeping. Then, meeting his gaze, you whisper, “You never needed to ask.”

Jungkook exhales, slow and shaky, like something inside him has finally settled. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like he’s memorizing the moment.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “Because I wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer.”

Your breath catches. Not because of his confidence but because, deep down, you realize you’d never wanted to say no in the first place. Maybe you had tried to fight it. Maybe you had convinced yourself that the past had built too many walls between you. But now, lying here in the warmth of his arms, the truth settles into your bones like something that had been waiting for you to accept it all along.

It had always been him.

Your fingers tighten in the sheets as you search his gaze, looking for hesitation, for doubt for something to make this feel less like a dream. But there’s nothing. Just him. Just you. Just this moment you both fought so hard to reach.

Jungkook watches you, waiting, always waiting, his hand still resting against your cheek as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

So you close the distance.

You kiss him slowly this time, letting it sink in. The warmth of his lips, the taste of him still lingering, the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. When you pull away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing the same air, hearts beating in time.

And then, with a quiet, knowing smile, you whisper, “Then don’t.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly, his expression shiftingas if those two words had knocked down every last barrier between you. And maybe they had. Because before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you against him again, tucking you close, his hand slipping into yours beneath the sheets.

Neither of you speak for a long time after that. You don’t need to.

Outside, the world keeps turning, time moving forward just as it always does. But here, in the hush of your dorm room, wrapped up in him, it feels like the universe has paused just for you.

Not to make up for lost time.

But to remind you that some things—some people—were never really lost at all.

And maybe, just maybe, they never would be.

EPILOGUE : Years Later – Valentine’s Day

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the apartment, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to pick a restaurant instead of saying, “Anything’s fine.”

Jungkook is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside the bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box.

But this time, there’s something else.

Your fingers find the jar, the one that started it all.

You pull them both out carefully, as if they were a fragile secret, and place them on your lap.

Soft footsteps approach. Then, a familiar weight sinks onto the mattress beside you.

Jungkook’s voice is quieter now, fond. “Didn’t think I’d see those again.”

You smile, running a thumb over the worn edges of the box before glancing at him. “I don’t know what made me reach for them.”

He hums, gaze flickering between the objects in your hands. “Habit, maybe. Or fate.” Then, smirking, “You always did have a thing for digging up answers.”

Rolling your eyes, you pop the lid off the jar, fingers fishing out an old note. The paper is creased, the ink slightly faded, but you already know what it says.

"Y/N, will you be my Valentine?"

Jungkook watches you, expectant. “You never actually answered me, you know.”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “Jungkook, we’re literally married.”

“And?” He leans in, teasing. “I’m just saying, a verbal confirmation wouldn’t hurt.”

You scoff but humor him anyway, fingers curling into his sweater as you whisper against his lips—

"Yes, Jungkook. I’ll be your Valentine."

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in. The jar sits forgotten on the floor, the pink box nestled beside it.

Once upon a time, you had pulled it out, searching for clarity. Looking for a sign.

You didn’t realize then you never needed the answers inside.

Because you’d already found them.

Because you’d found him.

And maybe that was the answer all along.

taglist: @iamstilljk @hirochan112 @withluvjm @amarawayne @jeon-has-left-you-on-seen @blueofocean @tattzjeon @tsick @stuti2904 @gukkiebabysblog @taekritimin123 @whisperingonyx @sadgirlroo @nerdycheol @hoshiskimchi @blueberriesm @kooksrqcer @minimoninini @dreamersparacosm @yok00k @whothefuckisthishoe @prxdajeon @darkangelfei @sunainasworld @kia091106 @khadeeeeej @welcometomyworld13 @noshametempo @bakuhoethotski @ohyeah35sworld

thank you so much for reading! let me know what u think about it <3

[honeyjynxxed]

DeadTired Draft

"You're very good at pretending to be a shadow."

Tim's voice shook Danny from his quiet note taking and he looked up at his study partner with furrowed brows and confusion on his face. "I'm sorry?" It was as much a question as it was an apology which meant it was neither really.

Electric blue eyes pinned him in place, and Tim looked at Danny as if he had just said the sky was green. "If I had not been partnered with you in our ecology class I wouldn't know you exist. No one at this school knows you exist besides the staff and even then you're a name to a face to a grade. Nothing else. You're very good at pretending to be a shadow, a bodiless thing gliding along the edges of society."

Danny bit his lip slightly, mulling these words over. Tim was right of course, he never allowed himself to make waves, he stuck to the background of any place he was in, and really he was surprised that he wasn't more noticeable with how often Tim Drake-Wayne was his study partner. "I guess...I've never really like attention anyway. Why, you stalking me, Drake?" He raised a brow at the other boy, attempting to hide his confusion behind snark. He hardly ever used Tim's last name, either of them, but this seemed like an appropriate time to do so.

"Hiding something, Nightingale?" Tim snarked back but there was a bit of genuine questioning under his tone that had Danny tensing up in his sit, gripping his pencil a little too tightly in his left hand. "I can only contact you through your student email, you don't have a phone number or a phone period as far as I can tell, you have a laptop that barely works and seemingly requires a blood sacrifice to do the most basic of tasks. You live on campus but you never let me see your dorm, you never agree to meet me anywhere but the library on campus and I just-" He lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hands through his hair and suddenly Danny is a lot less tense in his seat. When Tim's eyes settle on him again there's genuine concern there and it breaks his heart. "I am worried. Daniel Nightingale doesn't exist outside of this college and it makes me think you're running from something or someone. If that isn't the cause then by all means please tell me I'm overstepping but Danny..." Tim reaches across the table that separates them and grabs at his free hand. "If you need help I'm here, ok?"

And oh...oh Danny's core positively sings in his chest at the admission. Protection was a major obsession for Danny and the way Tim talked, the way he explained his thought process, it made Danny feel warm and fuzzy inside despite the permanent chill in his body. Tim wanted to protect him and wasn't that so sweet? "I-" Danny stuttered before a sad smile was spreading across his lips and he gave the boy's hand a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate that but unless you have a way to somehow get an entire government organization disbanded and legislature revoked then I'm afraid this is out of your ballpark."

And really, Danny should've known better than to open his fat mouth. He should've known that the Fenton luck would bite him in the ass with his first real friend since Sam and Tucker. Tim may have dropped the conversation after that but by no means had he dropped the topic entirely. No instead apparently he had somehow gotten into contact with the Justice League because less than two weeks later Batman, Red Robin, Superman, and John Constantine of all people were waiting for him inside his dorm when he got back from a late night of studying.

What.

The.

Fuck.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Thank god someone else sees the potential of remmick’s sub side bc 👀 that man has been looking for connection for centuries - if you were kind to him I think he’d be putty in your hands and it would be glorious. I’d love for you to explore this in your writing - I know you’d kill it and leave me screaming into a pillow haha

Let me be soft with you||Remmick x reader

Summary — remmick has never known an act of kindness in his life until he met you.

Warning smut dom!reader sub!remmick p in v reader rides remmick

Word count—1017

A/n— I LOVE SUB REMMICK AND I NEED MORE

Tagging @abriefnirvana @fuckoffbard

The wind outside howls, brushing dead leaves across the rotting windowsill. The cabin creaks around you—old wood, brittle bones, shadows so thick they feel alive. This place is half-forgotten, sunken into the ribs of the forest like a wound no one wants to reopen. No one comes here. Not anymore.

Not since he made it his own.

You shouldn’t be here.

And yet, Remmick can’t look away from you.

You’re warm. Real. Grounded in a way that mocks the rotting walls and the ghost-thick air. You stand there like you belong, unshaken by the stink of old blood or the teeth of the cold. All soft curves, steady breath, and those kind, quiet eyes that haven’t flinched once—not even when you stepped over the threshold and saw him bare-chested, blood-drenched, wild-eyed.

“You should’ve run,” he rasps, back pressed to the wall like he thinks you might burn him. “Should’ve screamed.”

You tilt your head, like you’re studying a puzzle rather than a predator. “Why would I scream? You haven’t hurt me.”

His jaw flexes. His fingers twitch. There’s blood dried like rust across his collarbone, a streak of it trailing down toward the edge of his sternum. The chain around his neck catches the firelight—dull gold, heavy. Worn not for style, but like penance. Like ownership.

“You don’t know what I am,” he growls. There’s something raw under it. Not menace—shame.

“I do.” You step closer, slow and sure. “And I think you’re tired.”

He flinches like you slapped him.

It’s the kind of answer he doesn’t know how to fight. Not judgment. Not fear. Just truth, laid bare between you. And you, offering it so gently he could scream.

“I’ve done terrible things,” he mutters, voice fraying.

“I know.”

You’re right in front of him now. He could reach you. He could snap your neck. Drain you. Feed on you until the blood runs down his chin. But he doesn’t move. His hands stay clenched at his sides, trembling with effort, nails biting into his palms.

You press your palm to his chest.

His dead heart stutters. Not a beat, not life—but something. Recognition. Longing. Ache.

“You don’t scare me, Remmick.”

And something inside him—something old and ruined—breaks.

He doesn’t remember his knees hitting the floor. Doesn’t feel the pain of it. Just the cotton-soft thump of surrender as he folds, head bowed, hands gripping the hem of your shirt like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His forehead presses into the warmth of your stomach, desperate, reverent.

“Please,” he breathes, voice so quiet it trembles. “Don’t be cruel.”

“I’m not,” you whisper. Your fingers find his hair, slow and soothing, and his whole body shudders like the simple touch is too much. “Let me be soft with you.”

He makes a sound—low, ragged, almost animal. A wounded thing trying not to bleed out in front of you. It tears out of him like a confession. Like a prayer.

You don’t stop. You hold him through it. You let him kneel. You let him need.

“I’m not good,” he says, mouth still pressed to your belly like he’s trying to hide in you. “Not clean. Not… worthy of this.”

“You don’t have to be good,” you say, gentler still. You tug on his hair, tilting his head up until his eyes meet yours—stormy, wide, afraid. “You just have to be mine.”

His breath catches.

God. He wants that.

He wants to belong. To be claimed, even if he doesn’t deserve it. Wants to forget every name he’s ever taken, every throat he’s ever torn open, every night he’s spent drowning in the dark and trying not to feel.

He surges forward, hands sliding up your waist like he’s starving for you—and you let him. You don’t flinch, don’t falter. You hold his face in your hands, and he leans into the touch like it’s holy.

Like you’re holy.

Like if he lets go, he might never find this again.

You guide him to the bed.

He goes willingly, crawling back on the creaking mattress while watching you with wide, desperate eyes. You undress without shame, your full body bathed in the flicker of firelight—and he stares like he’s witnessing a miracle. Not hunger. Worship.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes.

You smile. “You always look at me like that.”

“Because it never stops killing me.”

You climb over him slowly, pressing him down. His breath catches when your thigh settles between his legs, when your weight blankets him. He doesn’t feel crushed. He feels safe.

“Is this okay?” you ask, fingertips brushing his cheek.

He nods, too fast. “Please. I—I don’t want to think. Just tell me what to do.”

You kiss him. He sighs against your lips like he’s never been kissed soft before. Like the world always demanded he take, and you’re the first to give.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you murmur, grinding your hips just slightly. His head thumps back. “Just feel.”

He’s already hard beneath you, hips jerking helplessly, chain cold against your chest as you lean in. You drag your lips down his throat, over the metal links, to the spot above his unbeating heart.

When you rock your hips again, he moans.

“You’re so good for me, Remmick,” you whisper. “So sweet like this.”

His eyes flutter shut. “No one’s ever called me sweet.”

“Then they weren’t paying attention.”

You ride him slow, holding his wrists above his head, letting him tremble under you while his thighs shake and his whimpers fall like prayers. The praise is steady, like rain—washing him clean, softening him where he thought he was stone.

“You take me so well.”

“You’re doing so good.”

“You’re mine, baby.”

“Yours,” he gasps, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes as his orgasm builds. “Yours, yours, please don’t stop—”

You don’t. You stay with him through the high, through the cries and shudders and pleading. When he comes, he falls apart completely—back arching, mouth falling open in silent reverence, body shaking as you ride him through it, gently coaxing him to give more.

And afterward, when you lower yourself to lay on top of him, he wraps his arms around you like a lifeline.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse.

“You deserve everything,” you whisper back. “Especially this.”

You stroke his hair until he falls asleep.

For once in his long, dark life, Remmick dreams of peace.

[inwithrin]

⋆˚࿔ ellie loves your voice

imagine ellie being completely obsessed with the sound of your voice. it’s not just that she likes it—it’s that she lives for it.

cw: slight dumbification, fingering (r!receiving), soft dom!ellie, overstimulation. this was inspired by how, after my phonetics and phonology class, i began to pay much more attention to people's speech LOL

she’ll listen to you talk about anything, for as long as you want. doesn’t matter if you’re telling her about a weird dream you had, venting about someone you hate at work, or reading her the ingredients on a serum you bought—if it’s your voice, ellie is listening to every word.

you’re talking, and she’s sitting across from you, chin in her hand, just watching. not even pretending to be casual about it—she looks so in love it’s almost embarrassing.

“you have no idea how cute you sound right now,” she says, completely serious, as you ramble about some niche hyperfixation for the third time that week.

she knows the little inflections in your tone by memory. the way your intonation gets high and breathy when you’re excited. how it softens when you're being careful with your words. the fake, polite “customer service” tone you use when you're on the phone with strangers.

but what really makes her brain fuzzy, is the way you say her name when you’re under her. that fragile, airy whimper of “ellie” when she kisses the inside of your thigh, or the way you moan it like it’s the only word you know when her fingers are deep inside you.

ellie can tell exactly where you are by the sound of your voice, and she thinks there’s nothing more sacred than that—you, babbling and sweet, then broken and begging, all just for her.

ellie loves your voice like it’s a language only she was ever meant to learn.

she listens to you like it’s her favorite song—like she’s studying it. memorizing the lilt of it when you’re shy, the way it drops when you’re really tired. she’d take it in any form. your giggles, your sighs, your babbling rants. but when you’re like this—laid out for her, legs spread, her fingers knuckle-deep inside you and her face buried between your thighs—your voice becomes everything.

“c’mon,” she murmurs against the sensitive skin near your hip, her voice low, steady. “talk to me too, or i’ll stop.”

your breath catches. your hips twitch. you try to bite back the noise, but she drags her fingers just right, curling them up until you gasp. “ellie—fuck,” you whimper. “please, don't stop.”

“that’s better,” she says, curling her fingers again, her palm flat against your pussy. “don’t go quiet on me, baby. you know i love it when you talk.”

and you really try, but you can’t talk. not with the way she moves inside you. not when her mouth is brushing your thigh like she’s worshipping it, her eyes locked on your face like you’re her only focus in the world.

“feels—feels so good, ellie,” you try again—whimpering as you close your eyes.

“yeah?” she breathes. “tell me more, pretty.”

you stutter through the heat in your stomach, breathless and helpless. “fuck, ellie. i—i—”

she’s so far gone, so focused on you, her fingers slick and steady as she fucks you slow, deep, perfect. 

“you’re s-so deep,” you whimper, clutching the sheets. “i—i can’t think.”

she smiles against your skin, and it’s evil. “good,” she says, dragging her mouth up your thigh, leaving soft kisses against your skin. “you don’t need to think. just keep that pretty mouth going for me.”

and when you whine, when your voice cracks around her name again—ellie moans like you’ve given her something sacred. her fingers pick up a rhythm that feels like heaven to you.

“that’s my girl,” she whispers. “so fuckin’ perfect like this. all dumb, sweet, and noisy just for me.”

and you are—you really are noisy. babbling now, voice wrecked, and ellie keeps going like she wants to wring every word from your lungs.

she needs your voice like air. and you? you’d give her every breath you had.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────

you don’t know how long she’s been at it—all you know is that your thighs are trembling and your brain is gone. everything feels thick, hot, and heavy. her fingers are fucking you open, slow, and deep, like she’s trying to carve her name inside you. you’re soaked. dizzy. lips parted, barely able to form a single word that isn’t her name and ellie is eating it up.

“what’s that?” she asks, low and breathy, her fingers curling just right again. “you trying to say something, baby?”

you whimper, trying to close your legs, but she pushes one thigh open, spreading you wider for her. "i'm gonna cum, el—"

“nuh-uh,” she interrupts, voice almost teasing. “not until you ask.”

you blink up at her, lashes wet with frustrated tears, swollen lips trembling. “please,” you gasp. “ellie—please let me come. please. please. please.”

her breath hitches, and she stills her fingers—barely, but enough for you to cry out at the loss of friction. “fuck, look at you,” she murmurs, leaning in close, her nose brushing yours. “you sound so cute when you beg.”

her thumb presses gently against your clit, not moving, just enough to make you ache.

“c’mon,” she says, voice thick and low now, dripping with want. “say it again. nice and slow for me.”

you can’t breathe—you can’t—but you nod, already whimpering out the words she wants. “please, ellie,” you say, your voice high and broken. “please let me come, i’ve been so good, i just—i need it so bad, please—”

and she groans, like she’s the one who’s about to cum. “yeah,” she breathes, mouth brushing your skin as her fingers move again, hard and fast now. “that’s it. good fucking girl. come for me, baby.”

[nanaslutt]

gun play with doctor zayne <3

ʚ cont: fem reader, gun play, orgasm control, praise, zayne is head over heels for reader, dom!zayne

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

It's almost too much—the pleasure that takes hold of your body with each thrust of Zayne's mercyless hips. Your body spasms, trembling around him with intensity that steals your mind to another plane entirely, but still, he doesn't stop. Doesn't stop thrusting. Rubbing. In just the right spots.

The cold press of metal chills your overheated skin as the barrel of a gun presses to the lithe of your throat, sliding upwards to raise your chin. "Look at me." The voice belonging to the male bringing you world-ending pleasure is as cold as his fingers, shrouded in patches of ice from his evol spiraling out of control. It seems you aren't the only one losing yourself to the bliss of another's body.

You obey. Jaw slack, obscenities in forms of beginnings of words, and half-hearted pleas tear from your ruined throat. Your eyes lock with his, half out of focus and clouded with lust--mirrors to your own. The barrel glides over your chin before the tip of the pistol introduces chills to the warmth of your plush lips. You part your lips wider on instinct--long trained from the expectancy of his fingers while he takes you from behind in the shadows before the sun bleeds color into the morning sky.

"Suck." Zayne orders, the plap plap plap of his hips echoing around the walls of his bedroom, bouncing around in your ruined brain like the clashing of a commotion much louder. Thanks to your heightened and ruined senses.

You welcome the barrel past your lips and onto your awaiting tongue, where the taste of metal blossoms like the bitter tang of mortality. "Good girl." He praises, eyes studying the way you accept his touch in whatever form he decides to give it to you. Zayne glides the gun in and out of your mouth in shallow, careful strokes that oppose the harshness in how he treats you below the belt.

The contrast is enough to make you dizzy, to send your eyes rolling back in your head while moaning around the gun—too fucked out and riddled with pleasure to care about the danger of such an act, no matter the fact Zayne has already emptied the magazine. He didn't tell you he did, becasue he knows how the thrill makes your cunt spasm around him until your roaring while your find your pleasure, but you know all the same.

"That's enough." He orders in that breathy voice of his so full of dominance that you are helpless to submit to the order. His hips still, and a whine lodges in your throat as he slides the gun from your parted lips, the metal exiting warm instead of its usual, unsentient cold. You're seconds from questioning him, from begging him to keep going, to stroke that spot inside no one else can--

The warm barrel presses against your forehead, and you feel yourself squeeze around his penetrating need. Your eyes snap open, more alert now as the gun rattles against your temple. Zayne's eyes appear to lack emption to an outsider, to someone who isn't used to reading between the cracks and lines in those gorgeous, overwhelming eyes--but to you, you see the softness, the appreciation that you hand yourself over to him like this, body, mind, and soul, and trust him entierly.

"Zayne…" You gasp, hips rolling on their own accord to still him into moving.

His jaw works under heavy teeth, clenching together with the weight of them. The pressure of the gun digs into your flesh harder, but not enough to sting. Just enough to remind you who is in control. "You aren't afraid of me." He says, not asks. You nod. "You like this." He says, and it's then that you realize his words are to reassure himself.

Reaching out while holding his seemingly impassive gaze, you brush your fingers against his waist and hold him there. "I like it." You whisper, nodding as he leans down, the gun slipping to the side of your temple. "I love it."

Zayne's cock throbs inside you, kicking against tight walls. "Yes." He moans, eyes flitting between your eyes, holding as much desperation in the depths of them as his own. His lips skim your own. "You…"

You nod, reaching your other hand in a silent plea. Your hand wraps around his own, that holds the gun to your temple. Zayne merely watches you, arousal twitching being the only sign of his love for this as you slide your finger over his that hovers over the trigger.

His lips part, and his hips jerk. Breaths caught between lovers lips grow harsh and ragged, trapped in the space where nothing exists save for the two bodies that have become one. He's practically panting as you apply pressure. His eyes turn glazed as he reads the hunger in the lines of your face, in the expression morphing your features.

You pull the trigger, and the gun clicks.

And Zayne?

Zayne groans as his body stills, and he finds his pleasure inside you.

[cutehoons02]

My posessive kitten!

Jake pt Sunghoon pt Jaypt

*pairing: pervy kitten hybrid Jungwon x vet Girl

*trope: roomates to lovers/oppositive attraction

*synopsis: You were in the shit, Your best friend had decided to move in with his boyfriend and you were looking for a roommate to even the apartment and every person you met to share the expenses didn’t convince you, until Jake your best friend’s boyfriend told you that Jungwon one of his hybrid friends was looking for a house and so you found yourself sharing the space with a kitten who looked so cute that he was crazy

*tags: Jungwon is a black cat hybrid, lots of tension, Jungwon behaves with superiority and loves to tease the protagonist always throwing arrows, the protagonist studies veterinary for hybrid and finds himself studying the world of hybrid, territoriality, fake innocent girl, neddy Jungwon, needy girl, kisses, pacifiers, masturbation, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) normal-doggy sex, knot filling, pet names (good girl,baby) (wonnie)

12.3k (🐈‍⬛)

(English is not my native language)

For decades now, hybrids had been living alongside humans. Once considered "special" beings, half-human and half-animal, a nature experiment that hadn't yet found its place in the world, they had fought for years to gain recognition of their rights and true integration into society. Now, hybrids could study, work, rent homes, and live freely, without necessarily having to belong to a human family that would adopt them.

However, there were still strict rules: until the age of twenty, they could live in Hybrid Centers, facilities created to provide education and prepare them for independent living. But after that age, they either had to be adopted by a family willing to take care of them, or find a job and an apartment like any other citizen.

Jungwon had reached that point, staring at the form they had just given him, his black ears slightly lowered, his tail flicking irritably behind him. “You just need to find a place, Jungwon,” said the operator from the Center, a man in his fifties with glasses perched on his nose. “It’s not that bad.” Not that bad for you, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek. You're not the one who has to change your whole life overnight. Not that he hadn’t known this moment would come. He knew very well. But a part of him had hoped to delay it a bit longer. He liked life at the Center. Sure, there were rules, but at least he had a safe roof over his head, guaranteed food, friends to spend time with... and he didn’t have to worry too much about the future. Now, though, he had to find a place. And fast. When he left the office, still holding the form in his hands, he found Jake waiting for him. The friend sized him up and tilted his head, his golden ears twitching with the movement. “Funeral face,” he commented with a little laugh. “Did they finally kick you out?” Jungwon shot him a glare. “Very funny.” Jake started walking beside him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. Unlike him, Jake was the classic sunny hybrid, always smiling, always ready to help others. Very golden retriever. “I told you to find someone to adopt you, you know?” the friend continued with a sly grin. Jungwon flicked his black ears in annoyance. “And become some boring human’s pet? No, thanks.” He had never been the type to be kept on a leash – figuratively speaking, of course. He wanted his freedom, he wanted to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He didn’t like the idea of someone making decisions for him. Jake laughed, as if he had already predicted that response. Then he suddenly stopped and turned to him. “Speaking of homes... I know you're looking for one.” Jungwon stiffened. “It’s not that I’m looking for one… they’re forcing me to find one.” “Same difference. Anyway, I’ve got an idea for you.” Jungwon narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “What kind of idea?” “My girlfriend has a friend who’s looking for a roommate,” Jake explained, shrugging his shoulders. “And the price is great. Oh, by the way... she’s a vet for hybrids.” Jungwon froze. His ears immediately flattened, and his tail stiffened. “NO.” Jake sighed. “Don’t be dramatic, she’s not the devil.” “Hybrid vets are worse than regular humans,” Jungwon muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “They treat you like an experiment to study. They stick needles everywhere and talk to you like you're a helpless puppy.” “She’s not like that,” Jake assured him. “Really. And think about it: living with a vet could actually be a benefit for you. She already knows how to deal with hybrids, won’t ask stupid questions, and won’t bother you.” Jungwon made a sound of disapproval. The idea of living with a vet made him uneasy… but, on the other hand, he didn’t have many alternatives. “… I want to see the apartment first. And I want to smell it, and her,” he finally conceded, reluctantly. Jake smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I knew you'd come around to my idea.” Jungwon sighed, but deep down he was already curious. Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be that bad after all. At least, he hoped so.

You were desperate; it wasn’t an exaggeration, it was a fact. After two years of perfect cohabitation, your roommate and best friend had announced, with heart-shaped eyes and a smile that reeked of goodbye, that she was finally going to take the big step: move in with her boyfriend.

His boyfriend, Jake. Jake, the golden retriever hybrid who was the most cheerful and handsome one you’d ever known, the one you had studied carefully to make sure he was perfect for your friend. And you’d done a great job because those two looked like they had stepped out of a fairy tale. Great for them, but a disaster for you. Because now, you found yourself alone, with a too-large and too-expensive apartment to live in by yourself.

You had posted ads everywhere, set up appointments, and met possible candidates. But none of them convinced you.

The first one was a nice human guy, but he had the vibe of someone who forgot the bills and lived off pizza and takeout left lying around for days. No, thanks.

The second was a sweet girl, but she spoke to her hamster like it was her child and insisted you greet it every time you came home. Also, no.

The third… let’s not even talk about it. He was a fox hybrid who tried to hit on you with a terrible pick-up line five minutes after crossing the threshold. Eliminated.

In short, you were back at square one.

You were a social and friendly person with everyone, but also extremely perfectionistic. Probably a side effect of your training as a hybrid vet. Your studies honed your critical eye, your need for precision, and organization. You didn’t just want any roommate; you wanted someone polite, clean, respectful, and… well, bearable.

That’s when your best friend, perhaps feeling guilty for “abandoning” you, suggested a name.

'Jungwon.'

“Who?”

'A friend of Jake’s hybrid cat,' she answered with an encouraging smile. 'He’s looking for a place, and I think he might be perfect for you.' You weren’t convinced, but at that point, you were so desperate that you agreed to at least meet him.

The next day, you opened the door with a slight smile, letting your best friend, Jake, and… the black ball of fur that stared at you with piercing, bright green eyes, thin and probing.

It was unsettling. Not just because he didn’t take his eyes off you, as if trying to read you, but because in his gaze, there was something too self-assured, a hint of malice that sent chills down your spine.

Jake, holding Jungwon in his arms like he was a domestic kitten (though clearly, he wasn’t), spoke to him in a sweet, almost reassuring tone before setting him down.

'Come on, behave.” Jungwon landed gracefully on the floor, stretching slightly with a fluid motion, his long black tail lazily swaying behind him. He didn’t greet you. He just walked slowly through your apartment with an analytical, almost… predatory air.

You watched him closely as you showed him around. He was handsome, and that irritated you, but you never crossed the line of getting too close as you showed him the bathroom, the kitchen, his new room, and the living room. But when you opened the door to your bedroom, he paused longer. Too long. He gave a soft huff, as if absorbing the air in the room, and then, without hesitation, jumped onto your bed.

He mewed softly, rubbing against the sheets with a look of pure satisfaction as if he had found the perfect spot to stay.

“Ehm…” You looked at Jake, searching for answers, but he looked visibly embarrassed.

'Jungwon…' he scolded, running a hand through his hair. 'Come on, don’t do this.'

But Jungwon didn’t stop. He buried his face in the pillow, his ears twitching with excitement as his body slid across the blankets, leaving his scent behind, marking the space as if it were already his.

His mind was going to a dangerous place.

God, what a scent… It was sweet, and enveloping, with notes of lavender and honey. But underneath, there was something else. Something of yours, something that was driving him crazy.

Burying himself under the blankets in here…Jungwon bit his lower lip as a shiver ran down his spine. Hybrids didn’t have perfect self-control when it came to the scents that attracted them, and yours was… damn good.

He imagined waking up here every morning, burying his face in your hair while you slept, your warmth pressed against his body…He felt his tail twitch behind him.

I wonder how she would react if I brushed up against her like this… if my tail caressed her bare skin while she slept if my breath brushed against her ear before she even woke up…

He bit his cheek to suppress the low growl rising in his throat.

He was a well-behaved kitten, yes. He wouldn’t do anything inappropriate. But thinking about it? He couldn’t exactly stop himself. He barely lifted his gaze to you, his sharp eyes narrowing even further as he studied you.

Roommate, huh? Maybe, or maybe something more interesting.

When Jungwon returned to the kitchen, you expected him to just settle down and perhaps give you a clear answer about the house. But no, he purred—not at you, of course. Oh no, that would have been too easy.

Instead, he moved toward Jake and rubbed slowly against his legs, his long tail moving lazily behind him as his little face vibrated with satisfaction and he mewed something. A deep, slow, almost sensual sound.

You stared at him, unsure. Was that necessary?

“So?” you asked, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine. “Did you like the apartment?” Then, with a more cautious tone: “Did you like… the scent?” you asked the cat as he stared at you.

Jake scratched the back of his neck, laughing softly. 'I think he liked you.'

You stiffened slightly, trying not to let it show. He was just a hybrid, a territorial cat, nothing more. It didn’t mean anything. You didn’t answer, simply watching Jungwon as he and Jake moved into the guest room to talk.

'Oh my God, you're as stiff as a board!' exclaimed your best friend, sitting next to you with a mischievous smile.

You shot her an irritated glance. "What are you talking about?" She nudged you. 'You saw how hot he is, right?'

You huffed. "No, I didn't."

'What do you mean, no? Even as a hybrid, it's obvious he's a looker.'

You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes. "I don't care. I just want a normal roommate, to finish my studies, and not have unnecessary distractions."

She gave you a satisfied little smirk. 'Sure, sure... let's see if you'll say the same thing soon.' You were about to ask her what she meant, but then you heard footsteps.

First, Jake's—steady and relaxed. Then, slower, almost calculated steps followed behind him.

You turned around and— Oh. The guy leaving the room wasn’t a hybrid in animal form anymore. He was a man.

Blonde, slightly wavy dyed hair framed a face that looked sculpted with unnerving precision. Sharp, deep brown eyes that perfectly contrasted with his cat-hybrid form. His feline ears were still there, less pointed than before but still visible among his soft hair, and then there was his tail. Longer than in his animal form, but constantly moving— a detail your veterinary side couldn't ignore.

Joy? Tension? Embarrassment? No.

He didn’t seem embarrassed at all as he studied you, his gaze slowly scanning over you, as though he were analyzing every little detail, and in an automatic impulse, you extended your hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/n.”

He stopped. He didn’t immediately take your hand. He first looked you in the eyes, then lowered his gaze to your outstretched hand. A silence of a few seconds that felt like an eternity, and then he smiled.

One of those slow, almost lazy smiles, but with something too subtle to catch immediately, and finally, he took your hand.

His grip wasn’t excessive, but it wasn’t hesitant either. Sweet, but firm. His thumb barely moved across your skin, a touch almost imperceptible, and then…

'Nice to meet you, roommate. I’m Jungwon.'

Those words left his lips with a tone that made you shiver.

More than a month had passed since Jungwon moved into the apartment with you, and you still couldn’t figure him out. And it was absurd. You’d been studying and working with hybrids for years; you knew every one of their traits, habits, and instincts… Yet, he was an enigma.

One day he’d throw sharp jabs at you, the next, he’d almost be sweet.

“You’re always so precise and organized... almost boring,” he told you one day as he watched you carefully study and organize your veterinary notes.

“You don’t know how to have fun, do you? Maybe you should loosen up, every once in a while,” he said another day while you were out shopping, and you had been adamant about not going with him to a hybrid-only party.

“You stress too much, and when you do, your scent changes. I don’t like it,” he said one day when you came home with tears in your eyes for messing up a project on your exam.

“But the scent you leave on the couch... that, I like,” he said one day with a cocky tone while you were half-asleep next to him, watching a movie together.

He drove you crazy, and the worst part was his presence. No matter how much you tried to keep your distance, he was always there. In the house, in your space, and yet, when you came home and he was in his animal form, he wouldn’t even look at you.

Was he offended? Or was it just a game? He would barely turn around, flick his tail with a bored expression, and go to his room without a single meow of goodbye. But then, some nights, you’d find him under your bed.

And that’s when your patience ran out.

That evening, when you came home late from work, you found Jungwon—this time in his human form—sprawled out on the couch with his phone in hand. His black ears twitched slightly, signaling that he'd heard you enter, but of course, he didn’t even bother to look up. You sighed, tossing your bag onto a chair. Fine, I won’t ignore him this time. "Jungwon," you called flatly. He finally lifted his head, his ears perking up slightly as they caught the sound of your voice, with a look that was both bored and amused at the same time. 'Mmh?' You crossed your arms. "Can we talk?" He gave a small crooked smile. 'You’re always so formal… Go ahead, roommate.' You ignored the teasing tone. "Why do you keep sleeping under my bed?" He paused for a second, then tilted his head, his smile widening. 'Oh? You noticed?' You blinked, incredulous. "Of course I noticed! I've found you there more than once! Don’t try to deny it." Jungwon chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head in a lazy motion, as though stretching lightly. 'I’m not going to deny it. I’m just waiting to hear your lecture.' Your eye twitched with irritation. "I’m not going to lecture you. It’s simple: my room is mine. You have yours, and I don’t go into yours. If I did, you’d get mad because your room has to smell only like you. Yet, you don’t care and come sleep under my bed like it’s normal." He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly. 'I don’t see the problem. It’s just the floor.' "It’s not just the floor!" you exclaimed, exasperated. "It’s my space, and you can’t just… squat there!" Jungwon sat up slightly, his bright green eyes gleaming with mischief. 'What if I told you the problem isn’t the floor, but the fact that I’m under you?' You blushed. "What?" 'Your scent helps me sleep,' he said with disarming naturalness as if it were the most normal thing in the world. You stared at him, your brain trying to process. "You… what?" Jungwon slowly stood up, approaching with measured steps, his tail lazily swishing behind him. 'Is that so strange? You know better than me that hybrids have an excellent sense of smell, especially our cats. And your scent is…' He stopped right in front of you, lowering his head slightly to look at you better. '…comforting.' You swallowed. Don’t let him intimidate you. "Look, I don’t care if you find my scent pleasant or whatever," you replied, trying to keep your voice firm. "But I don’t want you sleeping in my room." Jungwon smiled. 'What if I told you I can’t live without it?' Annoyed, you stared him straight in the eyes. "What if I told you I’ll kick you out?" you said with a smile that made Jungwon growl internally. Silence. Then, to your surprise, Jungwon burst into laughter. It was a genuine laugh, light, almost musical. But there was a hint of mischief, as though he was teasing you. 'God, you’re so funny when you’re mad.' You spun around quickly to leave because you were tired of his behavior, but he was faster. He grabbed your wrist, not roughly, but with enough of a firm grip to stop you. 'Joking aside,' he murmured, his voice lower. 'I’m not doing it to annoy you.' You slowly turned to face him, locking eyes, and Jungwon ran a hand through his hair, an almost nervous gesture. 'It’s just that… I like knowing you're there.' You didn’t respond right away. Something in his tone at that moment made you hesitate, and then he smiled again, and that vulnerability vanished, replaced by his usual arrogance. 'But if you want me to stop, I’ll do my best.' “I’ll do my best” didn’t mean he would stop. It just meant he’d try, and somehow, you already knew he would never truly stop.

It was one o'clock p.m. when you heard the door open, and Jungwon was laughing, talking on the phone with someone. He seemed in a good mood, his low and relaxed laughter filling the air as he took off his jacket.

“…Come on, it’s impossible, Heeseung, the musical part is completely off-beat—” But as soon as he saw you sitting at the table, surrounded by books, notebooks, the tablet with some charts, and a plate of food next to you.

For a moment, he just stared at you in silence. Then, without even greeting you, he lowered the phone and abruptly ended the call. He raised an eyebrow, his tail twitching slightly as he took in the sight of you sitting there in front of him. It was strange because you always came home around 6 p.m. 'Why are you home already?'

You smiled innocently. "I have to stay home and study this week, it's exam time."

You pointed to the plate. "I made you some food in case you’re hungry. I know you love rice with vegetables, so I made some for both of us."

Jungwon walked over, put his bag down, and slumped into a chair.

'How thoughtful,' he muttered, picking up the fork with an amused smile. Then he looked up at you, his feline eyes scanning you as if they always hid something, and he began eating, apparently relaxed, but his eyes wandered over your books, curious. And then, he noticed the titles of the textbooks you were studying, and his cheeks tinged slightly red.

Reproduction in Feline Hybrids: Biology and Behavior.

Mating Between Hybrids and Humans: Probabilities and Precautions.

Heat Dynamics in Hybrid Cats.

Jungwon froze for a moment, seemingly analyzing what he had just read. Then, slowly, his smile changed, it was no longer a regular smile, but one of those smiles you had learned to fear, a mix of amusement and mischief.

Jungwon calmly put down his fork, leaned back in his chair, and intertwined his fingers on the table.

'Interesting.' You already knew where he was going with this and sighed, because you knew he’d start making jokes. "Don’t start."

He tilted his head, his gaze moving over the open texts. ìSo, that’s why you’re home all week? To study...' He paused for a moment, then lifted his eyes to you with a dangerous glint. 'Sex between hybrids?'

You hurried to correct him. "Reproduction. It’s not the same thing."

He smiled. 'Oh, but it’s very similar,' he said cheekily. You wanted to hide and sink into the ground with embarrassment.

'So,' he continued, tapping his fingers on the table. 'You’re reading about how… mating works between a hybrid and a human?' He said it slowly, almost savoring each word, and your face immediately heated up.

"I-I'm studying for an exam, Jungwon." You tried to stay calm, even though he wouldn’t take his eyes off you. "It’s important to know these things since I’m a veterinarian and I’m studying for my specialization."

He nodded slowly. 'I see.' Then he looked down at one of the books, and his smile grew even wider.

'And these numbers?' He pointed to one of the charts. 'Are you analyzing the success rate between a hybrid and a human?'

You swallowed. "Yes," and you handed it to him, and his eyes carefully scanned the various numbers and colors. Jungwon chuckled, amused. 'And tell me... how’s the percentage? High?'

"It depends on the type of hybrid," you replied quickly, trying to stay professional.

But he leaned in a little closer to the table.

'And for cats?' You lost your breath for a second.

"Jungwon." You tried to keep a serious tone. "You’re annoying."

He smiled again. 'And you’re too adorable when you try to be professional about topics so...' He paused theatrically. '...delicate.'

You covered your face with a hand, exhausted. It was only the first day. How the hell were you going to survive a whole week?

Jungwon shook his head, laughing to himself as he went back to eating, but in his mind, he was already looking forward to the days ahead. It was going to be an interesting week, he thought to himself.

Jungwon woke up late, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft light across his room. He stretched slowly, yawning, his tail moving lazily beneath the covers. It was then that he smelled it—your scent, sweet and persistent, lingering in the air, on the sheets, maybe even on him. A shiver ran down his spine, and a familiar warmth spread low in his belly. 'Shit.' He placed a hand on his face, trying to push away the thoughts invading his mind. You. You under him, your soft skin against his, your warm breath against his neck. You, moaned his name as he sank into you, his tail wrapping around your body, his knot filling you up and making you tremble. Just the thought of it made him growl quietly between his teeth. 'Damn study week.' As if it wasn’t already hard enough living with you, now he had to listen to you talk about reproduction, mating, and success rates. And now, his body was reacting on its own. He ran a hand through his light hair, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to ruin everything. He had finally found a decent roommate—though a little too perfect for his taste—and an apartment to stay in. He couldn’t let his cat instincts fixate on you in inappropriate and dirty ways. With a sigh, he got up, put on a pair of sweatpants, and left the room. You were in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a steaming cup in your hands, immersed in your books. As soon as you heard footsteps, you looked up distractedly… and nearly choked on your herbal tea. Jungwon entered the room shirtless, wearing only soft sweatpants around his hips, his smooth, pale skin fully exposed. He toned arms, sculpted abs, and a V-line that dipped too enticingly beneath the waistband of his pants. It was… It was too attractive and too beautiful at the same time. You coughed violently, trying to catch your breath as he looked at you with an amused smile. 'Woah, you okay?' he asked, walking closer and giving you a few innocent taps on the back. You nodded frantically, still coughing, your face probably on fire. He leaned against the counter, taking his coffee cup and sipping it calmly. Then, with the most shameless tone in the world, he tilted his head and looked at you with mischief. 'Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a guy shirtless.' You shot him a death glare, desperately trying to recover. “I’ve seen them.” You paused to swallow. “But not my roommate.” Jungwon chuckled, leaning against the sink. 'I’m just saying, it’s nothing shocking. I’m just a regular guy, part hybrid, with a pretty decent body.' He shrugged and winked at you, making his muscles move beneath his skin. 'I was hot.' You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms, and a shiver ran through your body. “Doesn’t seem like hybrid cats are in heat right now.” It was an innocent statement. Purely academic. But Jungwon smiled in a way that immediately made you regret speaking, and he moved a little closer, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 'I’m not in heat.' His voice was low, slightly husky, and your stomach twisted. You lowered your gaze to your cup, trying to focus on the fact that you still had exams to pass and a roommate who was always teasing you. You sighed. “Fine.” Jungwon chuckled, going back to drinking his coffee as if nothing had happened. But his tail, the one that kept moving slowly behind him, betrayed his mood far too well, and you already knew it wasn’t over yet.

That morning, Jungwon wasn’t home, and you finally had some peace.

You sat at the table with your tablet on, your books open, and a notebook full of notes. You spent hours studying carefully, softly repeating the harder concepts to yourself. Before lunch, you went out to do some grocery shopping, picking up what you needed and also getting a few things for Jungwon.

You have learned some of his cat hybrid preferences:

Hot milk with a bit of honey. He had told you he always drank it when he felt tired.

Smoked tuna. You’d noticed that every time he ate it, his tail moved slower, a sign of pure enjoyment.

Cream-filled pastries. He had never explicitly said it, but you’d seen how his eyes sparkled every time he had one.

Dried catnip, which he’d never admit to liking, but that would mysteriously disappear from the pantry now and then.

As you were putting away the groceries, you heard the door open, and it was exactly one o’clock p.m. when Jungwon walked in with damp hair from the rain. The scent of rain and wind mixed with the sweet aroma of vanilla and butter, something he must have brought back from the bakery.

He greeted you with a smile and handed you a white cardboard box.

'Spring’s beginning,' he said casually.

You took it, curious. “What’s this?”

'A cake.' He took off his wet jacket, shaking his hair slightly. 'It’s a new recipe we tested this morning.'

You eyed him with suspicion. “It’s not your birthday, right?”

Jungwon chuckled softly. 'No, of course not. I made it. You need to try it and tell me if it’s good.'

It was strange. Jungwon never did things without a second purpose, yet today he seemed... normal. After eating, you tasted the cake. It was soft, with a light cream and a hint of honey and lemon.

“Wow,” you said, genuinely surprised. “It’s really good.”

Jungwon smiled a flash of satisfaction in his eyes. You ate together, and for the first time, he acted almost kindly. Of course, there were still his usual jabs—comments about how you held your fork, how your face lit up when you ate something good, how your sweatshirt was way too big on you—but they were light, almost affectionate, and it worried you. It was strange seeing Jungwon like this.

At the end of lunch, he stretched with a little feline yawn and stood up. 'I’m going to take a shower and then sleep for a bit.'

You nodded, but you didn’t stop watching him as he left the kitchen.

What the hell is going on with him today?

It was already five in the afternoon, and you were immersed in your studies, completely absorbed in the descriptions of hybrid cat reproduction. The characteristics of the knot, its use in keeping the partner secured during mating, the success rates between hybrids and humans… And then you felt something soft brush against your legs. You looked down and found Jungwon in his feline form, a black ball of fur with sharp green eyes staring at you intensely. "Jungwon?" He meowed softly, rubbing his head against your leg. It was the first time he had approached you like that, and with slightly trembling hands, you stroked him. His ears lowered in pleasure, and as if that was the sign he had been waiting for, he jumped onto your lap, curling up against you. You stayed still for a moment. Jungwon wasn’t the type for physical contact, at least not in that way. He was more the type to brush against you briefly, to sneak touches, using contact as a game, but now he was here. Curled up between your legs, his small warm body vibrating softly with purring as he pressed even closer to your hoodie, rubbing his little face against the soft fabric as if trying to soak up your scent. It was too intimate of a scene. You went back to focusing on your notes, repeating aloud what you were studying.

"… during mating, the male’s knot swells inside the mate, preventing immediate extraction and ensuring a longer bond between the two partners…"

Below you, Jungwon moved slightly. You were distracted for a moment to look at him and his ears had moved imperceptibly and his tail had twisted around your legs. You continued reading.

"… in feline hybrids, this process can last several minutes up to a maximum of forty-five, increasing the chances of conception…"

You heard a light sound, something in between a meow and a little moan. You looked down again and Jungwon was looking at you. His eyes were darker, slightly narrower, and his tail moved slowly, languid. Then, with a fluid movement, he rubbed his face against your belly, making a little satisfied sound as if the idea of what you were saying had pleased him too much. You kept repeating it out loud for hours, Trying to ignore the strange atmosphere that had been created between you and Jungwon after his sudden-and very suspicious-meow of the afternoon.

Then, at 7:30 p.m., the door to his room opened and he entered the kitchen with the usual relaxed and cheeky attitude. 'Can you stop?' He asked with a tone that seemed almost bored, although in his eyes there was that usual glow of malice. You looked at him with a confused air. "Stop what?" 'To talk about knots, couplings, and all those things that we know to hybrids and even humans who are not veterinarians.' You snorted, trying to close the book. "I’m studying, Jungwon. Sorry if I want to pass my exams." But he was faster than you. With an agile movement, he took the book out of your hands and opened it again, scrolling through the pages with ease. A funny smile appeared on his lips as he read some passages, and then his eyes returned to you. 'Tell me, Y/n…' he said, tilting his head slightly. 'You’re so good at studying… then you’ll be able to answer some questions, won’t you?' You get stiff. "Jungwon, give me back the book." But he ignored your request and leaned to the table, browsing through the pages calmly. 'How long does the knot of a feline hybrid last on average?' he asked with innocence, though his tone was not at all innocent. You feel your cheeks warm. "It depends… can last from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on the partner and the level of excitement." He smiled, smug. 'Interesting. And during the act, what do cat hybrids like most?' Swallowing, clenching fists on knees. "It depends on the hybrid." Jungwon shook his head, amused.

'Come on, doctor. You’re an expert, aren’t you? You know we have some innate preferences…' His eyes grew ever more intense as he waited for your answer. You bit your lip. "Cat hybrids tend to appreciate the bite on the nape… because they stimulate the instinct of submission and bonding with the partner." He tilted his head, his tail moving lazily behind him. 'What else?' You felt the beat accelerate. "Lick and nibble on the skin of your partner, especially in sensitive areas. Physical contact is important for you." Jungwon slowly licked his lips, as if he was tasting your words. 'Interesting…' He muttered, leafing through the pages again. Then he stopped at a chapter and a sneaky smile curled his lips. 'What about contraceptives?' You stiffened. "What?" He raised an eyebrow. 'What can a human girl use to avoid a pregnancy with a human? And a hybrid?' Deglutitors. "There are specific pills for both humans and hybrids. Those for hybrids also regulate heat hormones, while those for humans serve to prevent fertilization with the hybrid seed." Jungwon nodded as if he was satisfied with your answer. Then his gaze became more penetrating. 'Do you take them?' You were blocked. The air suddenly seemed heavier and his tone was playful, but there was something deeper in his voice. Something more authoritative.You lowered your gaze, feeling the heat rise to the cheeks. You never imagined having to answer such a question. Then, without looking into his eyes, you nodded slightly but Jungwon didn’t seem satisfied. With a slow step he approached and leaned slightly, his face dangerously close to yours. 'I want to hear you say the answer, Y/n.' His tone was low, almost a whisper, and it made your back shiver. "… Yes, I do." 'Yes, what?' "Yes, I will." He smiled, his smug expression. 'Good girl.' Then he straightened up and, as if nothing had happened, closed the book and put it on the table. 'Now you can stop studying for today. It’s dinner time.' he said lightly as if he had not just embarrassed you to the core. He glanced at you one last time, then turned to the refrigerator, leaving you there with your heart pounding and feeling that Jungwon was much more dangerous than you had imagined.

The heavy rain was thundering on the roof, accompanied by the deep sound of thunder that shook the air. You slowly opened your eyes, still groggy from sleep, but something seemed out of place. The door to your room was open, and you had closed it the night before. You leaned over the bed, your heart beating quietly in your chest, and looked down; under the bed, curled up in his animal form, Jungwon was sleeping deeply. His small body rose and fell with a regular rhythm, his black tail wrapped around his body, and a light puff of air left his lips now and then. For a moment, you found yourself thinking that he looked incredibly sweet when he slept. Almost… harmless. Maybe he should sleep forever, you thought sarcastically, aware of how cheeky and irreverent he was when awake. You slowly got up, careful not to wake him, and opened the blinds to let some light in, but the sky outside was dark, heavy with rain. A small meow caught your attention. Jungwon had woken up and, still in his animal form, lazily rubbed against your legs. You hesitated for a moment, then reached out and gently petted his head, feeling his soft fur under your fingers. It was one of the few times he allowed you to touch him without teasing. "I'm going to the bathroom," you said quietly. When you came out, he was there in his human form, leaning against the hallway wall with a small catnip twig between his lips, chewing absentmindedly. His hair was messy, his oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder, and his tail lazily swayed behind him. You stared at him. "Is something wrong?" Jungwon looked at you with an unreadable expression, then shrugged. 'Hmm… nothing.' But then, without any warning, he stepped closer and buried his face in the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled your skin, and you froze completely, shocked by his sudden gesture. "J-Jungwon?" You felt his chest vibrating against you in a soft laugh. 'You smell good…' he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. You tensed slightly. "Are you going to explain to me what the hell is going on with you?" He pulled away just a bit, his icy green eyes meeting yours. 'I don't like thunderstorms.' His admission took you by surprise. Jungwon, the cheeky, territorial, manipulative hybrid, was afraid of something? All day long, he stayed incredibly close to you. You were on the couch, and he sat next to you, phone in hand, lazily scrolling through the screen. You quietly repeated your notes about hybrids, and every so often he threw in a teasing comment. But when the thunder struck the house with a deafening roar and the lights went out suddenly, his body moved instinctively. He grabbed your hand and sat next to you, his chest rising and falling faster. 'Don't leave me alone,' he whispered. You felt his fingers gently tighten around yours, his tail trembling slightly. You smiled, trying to lighten the tension. "What are you, a scared little kitten?" A low growl formed in his throat, and when you turned to look at him, his gaze was no longer that of a frightened pup. It was burning. His teeth were slightly sharper, his mouth barely open as if he were controlling his breath, and his expression… was something you had never seen before. Instinctively, you gently stroked his hair, brushing his feline ears. His body vibrated slightly at the touch, and you felt his tail tighten around your wrist for a second. Jungwon reached out and took the book from your lap, letting it fall to the floor. Then, without giving you a chance to react, he pushed you gently against the couch, his face moving closer to yours, your heartbeat quickening. When his lips brushed against yours, it felt like the air around you became even warmer. Jungwon didn’t say anything and kissed you.

The kiss was ravenous, impatient. Jungwon moved over you with a hunger he couldn’t contain, his body trying to imprint his presence on your skin, your lips, everywhere. He wanted to possess you, mark you, make you understand that you had entered his territory and that you would never leave, his mind a whirlwind of obscene thoughts. What would it be like to see you beneath him, your body trembling under his touch? What would it be like if he heard you moaning his name, your nails digging into his back? If he could bury himself inside you, fill you up until you were completely his? The thought made him growl softly against your lips, his hands tightening around you, and you pulled him even closer, letting your body respond to his instincts. Feeling him so close, the heat of his skin against yours, the way he rubbed against you slightly without even realizing it… it was almost overwhelming. Jungwon pulled away from you for just a moment, his breath heavy as he looked at you with glossy, cheeky eyes. Then he lowered his face and began licking your neck, first slowly, then with more intensity, nibbling and leaving little red marks on your sensitive skin. A shiver ran down your spine, and you couldn’t hold back a small moan. He smiled against your skin. 'You’re making the sounds I want to hear…' he whispered with a hoarse voice. You teased him, trying to keep control. “Are you putting into practice what I studied yesterday?” Jungwon chuckled against your neck, licking you slowly until he reached your ear. 'Mh, yeah… but I’m skipping straight to the more interesting parts.' You felt his tail lazily wrap around your thigh, his grip becoming more secure. Then his voice dropped, making you shiver. 'And you know what my favorite part is?' he whispered, licking his lips just barely. 'The part where I make you mine.' You laughed as you felt him lightly tickle you, teasing him, running your fingers through his light hair. “You’re too confident, Jungwon.” He lifted his face, looking at you with mischievous, gleaming eyes. 'And shouldn’t I be?' Before you could answer, his hands slipped under your sweatshirt, grazing your skin with the warm touch of his fingers. A shiver ran down your back, and Jungwon paused for a moment as if savoring the sensation of your body under his touch. Then his gaze grew more intense, and with a sly smile, he whispered in your ear: 'Not even the bra? Tsk. I knew you were a cheeky girl.'

With a fluid movement, he took off your sweatshirt, leaving you vulnerable under his predatory gaze. He wasted no time: his lips immediately found a beautiful bud of yours to tease, leaving kisses and small bites along your breast and with the other hand squeezing slightly the other breast and her warm breath against you made you moan. 'Who knows what you would be like,' he muttered between a little bite and licking your nipples, 'if you were full of milk for our puppies...' A shiver passed through your body, and for a moment you felt the primal instinct behind his words, the animalistic desire to mark you, to bind you to him in the deepest way possible. You quickly recovered and nudged him slightly, laughing. "In another life, or perhaps later," you provoked him, enjoying the spark of defiance in his eyes. Jungwon growled softly, his teeth shining in the room’s flickering light. 'I don’t like to wait.' Another thunder shook the house, and for a moment you just felt him stiffening. You noticed it, and you couldn’t resist the temptation to mock him. "Oh? Big Jungwon is afraid of a thunderstorm?" You shouldn’t have said that because with a quick movement, his body presses against yours, its hard and warm length rubbing against your sensitive pussy, even through clothes. The sudden contact made you moan her name before you knew it. Jungwon smiled, satisfied, and then his voice became lower, deeper. Authoritarian. 'I’m afraid again. I challenge you.' He rubbed against you and this time to drive you crazy, you felt his cock grow against you, hard, insistent, making you moan involuntarily.

A sharp smile was painted on her face as her lips began to come down, kissing you with adoration along the belly until it stopped right at the edge of your pants. You looked up at him, the bright eyes of a restrained desire. He waited as if he wanted to hear you plead, but you, biting your lip, gave him only a nod of assent. This seemed to amuse Jungwon, who with a mischievous look tickled you a little more before slowly taking off your pants.

A low whistle slipped from his lips when he saw your black lace panties. 'You are so beautiful not to mention your smell,' he whispered with a note of amusement as his finger traced a fiery path along your inner thigh. When he touched the damp cloth, his smile widened.

'Look how wet you are...' he muttered in a provocative tone. 'Don’t tell me that it’s all my fault?'

You felt yourself burn, but the playful spark in your eyes made him growl softly. He stooped down, the warm breath touching your skin as his fingers made small circles closer and closer to where you wanted it most. 'Tell me...' whispered in a low and territorial voice, his gaze chained to yours. 'Has anyone ever filled you before?' You reckon softly, shaking your head with a mixture of challenge and embarrassment. "No," you replied, your voice a flutter of excitement.

Jungwon licked his lips, his eyes curled up with pure possession and his tail began to swing as happy as he was to have heard those words.

'Then I will assure you that you will never need anyone else.'

His mouth settled on the skin of your thighs and began to give you small kisses and marks, as his hands crept deeper and deeper.

'I will be the only one to fill you... and make you feel so good that you won’t think of anyone else.' A shiver ran through your back as his fingers moved with a torturing slowness. He smiled, satisfied with your reaction.

In a slow, almost studied movement, he pulled off your panties, leaving you completely vulnerable under him. 'So beautiful and already so wet for a hybrid, then.' His tone was a mixture of joke and satisfaction while with a curious act, he opened your legs.

His feline eyes shone with malice, his warm breath grazed your skin. Then, without warning, his fingers went down to pull off your pulsating clit. A groan eluded you at the feeling of his slow, torturing touch, as he tilted his head with an accomplished smile. 'Tell me, little vet, what are you going through for the exam?'

His voice was low, charged with a restrained exception, as his finger began to massage your swollen clitoris with unnerving precision.

'Maybe the reproduction of feline hybrids? The node filling?' The heat went up to your face. Your mind tried to join theoretical concepts, but its touch made it difficult to even think. "Yes, the cat hybrids have a knot that serves to hold the seed" you managed to stutter, the voice broken by the shivers of pleasure running down your back. He giggled softly, his breath stroking the inside of your thighs while increasing the pressure on your sensitive spot.

'Good, but it seems to me that it is distracting you. I bet you might have asked yourself a few spicy questions about the links between hybrids and humans at times.' Suddenly, without ceasing to torment your clitoris, he slid a finger into you, the hot and invasive feeling made you gasp. He smiled, satisfied. 'Answer me, have you ever thought of me filling you up while you were studying?'

his finger began to pump inside your slimy cunt but at the same time, he stopped because he wanted to tease you and you knew you had to answer him as soon as possible. "Yes, yes I thought of you" he laughed and his ears picked up every sound you made and his tail moved more and more no matter how excited he was. 'Let's see if you can stay focused... How long is the bond created by the knot of a cat hybrid?'

You clutched the sheets, trying to formulate a sensible answer despite the growing pleasure. "D-Depends... it can last from a few minutes to ... to half an hour...and if your cats are in heat the knot act could last even hours!"

He tilted his head, satisfied with your answer. 'You want another finger, baby?' Nod frantically, the need to feel it deeper was now unbearable. He smiled, but before settling, he formulated another question: 'And how does the human's body react when it is filled by the knot?'

You struggled to think, but between the desire and his expert touch, the answer came out wrong. As soon as the words left your lips, you felt a slight pinch on your thigh. 'Wrong.'

His voice became lower, more authoritarian. 'And yet you should know, given how excited you are to just talk about it.' You bit your lip, his dominant tone made you shudder, while his fingers resumed moving inside you with more intensity. 'Maybe, I'll have to give you a more practical lesson, as you struggle to concentrate.'

He dipped another finger inside your now moist, sensitive, and slimy cunt and you pulled his tufts of light hair to bring him closer to you, your legs were now completely open under him, breathless as his fingers explored every inch of your intimacy with a wise and vicious touch, he looked down on you, his gaze burning with a primitive and possessive desire.

'Look how you tremble for me...' he whispered in a voice full of satisfaction, sliding a third or finger into you with maddening slowness.

'You're so tight ... like you were made just for me.' His tone was poisonously sweet, charged with a confidence that made you cringe. You felt completely at the mercy of his touch, yet you could not hold back a small flicker of provocation. "it's too much"

He froze for a moment, then laughed softly, a low, dangerous sound. His feline eyes became darker and hungrier.

'Oh, baby ... do you really think you can give me rules?' Suddenly, his fingers inside you moved deeper, faster, making you gasp out of control. 'Let me teach you one thing...' he whispered, lowering himself to touch your lips with warm breath.

'You don't decide anything. You're mine. You were born to be filled by me, always and only by me.' You could hear your heart pounding in your chest as its tone became darker, and more viscous.

'I'll ruin you, understand? I will fill you so well that you will not even be able to think of someone else, you will always have my seed and my knot inside you. No one will ever catch you like I will.'

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and when his mouth lowered on your sensitive buds, the heat became untenable. His tongue played with you, wet, slow, torturing, while his fingers inside you continued to move with precision, spreading and preparing you with perverse attention.

'I have to prepare you for my knot, baby. You'll have to welcome me completely.' His tone was a promise, a threat, and a sweet condemnation. He crawled at you, his movements languid but territorial, like a cat marking his territory.

'Tell me ... are you ready to be mine alone?' But at that moment you were already completely fucked, at the mercy of him and no one else. You nodded as you felt your spasms consume you inside your pussy throbbing as you came between his fingers, he meowed at the sight of your excitement against his lips, and like an animal hungry for its prey he began to suck all your excitement as if it were his favorite meal and at the same time he sucked your clit throbbing and the room was full of moans and small growls.

'Yes what?' his voice was low, slightly amused, but there was an authority in his question that made you cringe. Your face warmed as you clasped your legs instinctively, biting your lip. "I want you... I want your knot." A satisfied grin appeared on his lips as he tilted his head slightly, almost like a predator watching his prey play alone in his trap.

'So good and obedient ... at least in words,' he muttered, lowering his face until he touched your lips with hers.

'Let's see if you can keep this sweet submission even after I've ruined you completely.' Before you could answer, his arms closed around you, lifting you up without the slightest effort. The heat of his body pressed against yours as he carried you to your room, the lips tracing fiery kisses down your neck, leaving behind shivers of anticipation.

'You know,' he whispered against your skin, his voice charged with an almost possessive desire, 'I'm tired of sleeping under your bed in my animal form.'

You felt his teeth graze your earlobe before he added in a lower, rougher tone: 'I want to sleep with you, squeeze you, feel your body against mine every night... and most importantly, I want to fill you whenever I feel like it.'

He dropped you gently on the mattress, his eyes never taken away from yours. You felt chained under that gaze, unable to move while his presence dominated the room. You tried to play down, play with him, but the smile on his lips betrayed that he knew exactly what you were doing. Your trembling hands moved to lower his pants and then boer It was impressive, more than you had imagined. Its length throbbed, thick and full of desire, the transparent liquid that perled its tip was a silent promise of what he would enjoy in making you his own. he noticed your gaze and laughed softly, his hand caressing your cheek before descending along your body, tracing every curve with slow, possessive fingers.

'Do you like what you see, baby?' You could feel yourself burning up, but nodded slowly, biting your lip.

'Be clear.' His voice grew deeper, and his fingers grazed your center with an expert touch.

'Tell me what you want. Ask me well.' Your breath broke under the combination of his authoritarian tone and the touch that turned you on more and more. "I want you, ... I want yo, Jungwon to fill me." A contented growl escaped from his lips as he ducked over you, his body pressing against yours in an inescapable promise.

'Good girl.' His lips moved over yours with an intensity that made you lose your breath, his hands caressing you with a possessiveness that left no room for doubt.

'You are mine.' he whispered against your skin. 'And after this night, you will no longer have doubts about who owns you.'

Jungwon's eyes shone with a dangerous intensity, his smile curving into a contented grin as he watched you tremble beneath him. He grazed your dripping cunt with his cock, snatching a muffled moan at you. The heat between you was unbearable, and he seemed to revel in seeing you so vulnerable, completely at the mercy of his will.

'Tell me,' he muttered in a low, velvety voice, leaving a kiss on your neck. 'What have you studied about hybrids like me?' Your breathing was irregular as you tried to put the words together.

"The knot..." you whispered, but he interrupted you with more determined pressure against your center, making you gasp.

'Be more precise.' His voice was an order disguised as sweetness.

'You will know that hybrids have an instinct... a need to completely fill their mate. And you, sweet prey, want it, don't you?' You could feel yourself blazing and nodding slowly, your fingers clinging to the sheets beneath you as his body left no way out.

'It's not enough to nod, I want to hear you say it.' His mouth came close to your ear, his warm breath making you shudder.

'Tell me what you need, or I'll have to teach you to respond better.' You bit your lip, your mind clouded by desire and the way he was making you feel completely his. "I need you ... your knot."

Jungwon laughed softly, smugly, as you felt the tip of his mushroom cock push slightly inside you which made you tremble. 'So good and obedient...' he muttered, brushing your chin with his thumb.

'Let's see if you're as good at answering.' His lips rested on your neck, leaving a trail of slow, provocative kisses as she continued to touch you, still not giving you what you so desperately wanted.

'If you want to be filled as you wish, you will have to deserve it. Answer my question: how does the body of a human companion react when she is greeted by a knot?' Your mind struggled to remember the notions studied, but it was difficult to concentrate when his body pressed against yours in such an intimate way, causing you to lose all lucidity. "Yes ... it fits..." you managed to say, with a thread of voice. "the knot tightens around and then fills the girl's belly..."

'Very good. If you answer well ... well, I could be generous enough to give you exactly what you want.' You felt a shudder at his tone, a mixture of fear and excitement burning inside you. You wanted it more than anything else, and he knew it very well.

'What happens when the knot swells completely?' Swallow, trying to formulate a response as the heat inside you grew more and more. "It hangs inside ... prevents it from separating until ... until the binding is completed."

'Exact answer, I wonder,' he continued, her voice imbued with pure perversion, 'Will your body be tight enough to hold me back? Or will I have to teach you to adapt to my size?'

You covered your face with one hand, your embarrassment now skyrocketing. 'Don't hide, baby,' he whispered with a sharp smile.

'I want to see your every reaction as you answer me.' Your voice was a trembling whisper. "S-yes... it will hold you..."

'Very good,' he muttered, rewarding your response with a deep, possessive kiss.

'So, get ready. Because once I'm inside of you...' his smile got even more dangerous, 'I won't let you go for quite a while.'

And with those words, you felt with a determined push, his big cock go inside your pussy full of excitement. A groan escaped from your lips as your body adjusted to its presence, feeling it deeper than you ever imagined. The warmth, the fullness, the sense of connection—it was all too much. He paused for a moment as if he wanted to enjoy every second of the feeling of being inside you. His breathing became heavier, his hands clasping your hips with force. 'You're so tight...' he muttered, lowering herself to nibble at your earlobe.

'You're perfect for me, you know?' His words made you tremble. You could feel it throbbing inside you, its warm, thick length moving with maddening slowness as if it wanted to imprint every push into your body.

'You're really mine now,' he whispered against your skin, his hands holding you still as he upped the pace. 'No one can ever have you like I have you.' You nod, your mind clouded with pleasure. "Jungwon-you are the first...” He froze for a moment, his gaze becoming darker and more intense.

'Oh?' His thrusts became more decisive, deeper as if he wanted to imprint his mark on you indelibly.

'Tell me again who you belong to,' he ordered, the tone more authoritarian now. You groaned, your arms clasped around his neck. "Only you"

A satisfied growl escaped from his lips as he increased the pace, his breathing getting heavier. The heat in your belly grew more and more, and you felt the tension build up inside you, your body responding perfectly to its movements. And then, suddenly, you felt something change. A primal heat spread through your body, more intense than anything you had experienced before. Your breath stopped for a moment as you felt something swell inside you, filling you even more. Node.

Your eyes widened as your hands slid down her back. "J-Jungwon..." you whisper, in an unsure tone. "Is it... is it the knot?"

He looked down at you, his smile slightly mocking. ‘Mh? You’re really not very perceptive for someone who studies veterinary on hybrids...’

You felt blushing, but any protest died on your lips as he pushed even deeper, increasing the pressure within you.

‘See?’ He whispered against your mouth, kissing you slowly as it kept moving.

‘Now you really know what it means to be mine.’

Your body trembled, every nerve lit by the heat and sense of fullness that increased with each push. It was too much. It was everything.

And when the plane knot swelled completely, sealing you to it, you felt a wave of pleasure crossing you, leaving you breathless.

Jungwon leaned over you, forehead against yours, breathless as his hands caressed you softly. ‘Good girl,’ he whispered, leaving a kiss on your cheek.

He slid his hand along your belly, touching you with exasperating slowness. The knot within you pulsed slightly, and the sensation made you shudder.

‘So tight to me...’ he whispered, His voice full of desire. ‘Tell me, baby, has your textbook ever told you what it feels like to be filled with a hybrid?’

You bit your lip, trying to maintain a minimum of lucidity, but your body was already yielding to pleasure.

"N-no..." you panicked, your breath breaking as he kept teasing you with small movements of the pelvis.

Jungwon laughed softly, his tone a mixture of satisfaction and fun. ‘Then you are really lucky to have me... To make you feel everything on your own skin.’

His hand slid lower still, and his fingers touched the point where you were united, collecting some of the heat that flowed from you. He brought it before your eyes, watching with a smug grin your embarrassed reaction.

‘Look at you...’ he murmured, taking His fingers to His lips and tasting you slowly. ‘You’re all wet for me... so obedient... so mine.’

Your face caught fire, and Jungwon seemed to adore your embarrassed expression. He slowly leaned over you, brushing your lips. ‘Tell me what you want, baby. I want to hear you beg.’

You shivered beneath him, your body moving unintentionally to seek more contact. "I want..."

He sank his light nails into your hips. ‘Speak well. I want to hear every single word come out of that pretty mouth.’

Swallowing hard, the knot inside you that pressed gently against your walls. Your body was on fire, your mind completely clouded. "I want... I want you to fill me up... and louder please fill me up like a cat."

Jungwon smiled a satisfied and predatory smile. ‘So good...’

His thrusts reclaimed, more sails but incredibly deep, making you completely lose control. Your body trembled beneath him, every fiber of you seeking more, more, more. Your pussy couldn’t stop grabbing it and rebutting it against you, Jungwon brought his mouth to your ear, his voice a harsh whisper. ‘You feel so full, don’t you? Can you feel my knot swell inside of you? At this point, you should know that you can’t run away anymore...’

Groans, hands clutching desperately behind his back. "J-Jungwon..."

He laughed softly, kissing your jaw before leaving you a light bite. ‘Oh, baby... you’re so lost now.’

His fingers found your center, playing with you as his thrusts became more intense and animate. Every fiber of your body vibrated, the knot inside you pulsed in a way that made you lose your head.

‘Oh, yes...’ Jungwon whispered, squeezing your hips as he sank deeper. ‘You were born for this, to be under me, to welcome me completely...’

You panicked hard, your body bowing under him. "Yes... yes... Jungwon..."

‘Tell me whose you are.’

"I am yours..." you replied without hesitation, your heart beating madly.

A satisfied growl vibrated in her chest. ‘Good girl.’

The pleasure exploded inside you, leaving you completely breathless as your body huddled around its knot. Jungwon held himself over you, his breath broken as he filled you completely.

The knot swelled completely, sealing you to him, and you groaned at the feeling of being entirely his.

Jungwon stood over you, his eyes still dark with desire, his body not letting go of yours. Slowly, she lowered herself on you, pressing a languid kiss on your lips.

‘You are perfect so...’ she whispered against your skin. ‘Mine. Completely mine.’

And at that moment, lost in its warmth, in the beating of its heart against yours, you knew you could never be anyone else’s, Jungwon’s breath was still irregular as his body relaxed against yours. The knot had finally deflated, leaving a trail of languishing heat between your legs. But instead of walking away, he stood there, his chest pressed against your back, his face hidden in the hollow of your neck.

He left you a little bit on your skin before licking you flat, his feline way of marking what was his. You shivered at the sensation, a warm shiver that ran through your spine.

Jungwon laughed softly at your skin. ‘You’re still so sensitive...’ he whispered, his tone filled with satisfaction.

You were leaning towards him, feeling him still against you, warm and present. "Mh... enough, you tickle me..." You chuckled, trying to move slightly.

But in the movement, you felt something.

You get stiff.

Its length is still pressed against you, not completely hard... but not completely extinguished.

You barely lifted your head to look at him, standing in front of his slightly shiny eyes, his most vulnerable expression I had ever seen. He seemed confused, almost frustrated.

"Jungwon...?" you called softly.

He snorted, sinking his face in your hair. ‘Ugh... it’s not fair,’ he murmured against your skin. ‘I still want you.’

The heat went up to your cheeks as he drew even closer to you, almost as if he wanted to merge with your body. His hands slid slowly down your hips, caressing you with a dangerous delicacy.

‘I want to fill you again...’ he whispered, the tone sweet, but the words dangerously sinful. ‘ i want to make you mine again and again and again.’

A shiver ran through your body. It wasn’t just desire what you saw in his eyes. It was obsession.

You lightly sunk into his arms, looking at him with a funny smile. "Again?" You teased him, biting your lip. "You’re so insatiable, Wonnie..."

He stared at you, his eyes darkening. ‘Are you too tired for my second knot?’ He asked, the warm and low voice as one of His hands crept between your thighs, touching your still sensitive and swollen clitoris.

You flashed, a groan escaped from your lips as its skilled touch made you shiver.

Jungwon grinned. ‘Strange... your body seems to tell me otherwise.’

You gave him a look, but the redness on your cheeks only made him more amused. "Jungwon... I-"

‘Shh.’ He leaned over you, licking the lobe of your ear before whispering dangerous words to you. ‘Leave it to me, get on all fours you just have to be my good human girl.’

You turn your belly down with the beautiful show of your ass and Jungwon moans at the sight of you so embarrassed but also excited about what you were going to do, your little pussy emanated a heavenly smell for the hybrid and the sight of your excitement slowly descending beneath you made him growl. His hands go over your hips to guide you, and you feel Jungwon’s arm under you, wrapped around your stomach as he lifts you up, lowers himself and kisses you on the temple.

‘Ready, baby, to be filled again?’ You look up at him and your eyes tear slightly from the overstimulation that will come against you, and groan when you feel a finger of Jungwon enter you again.

"Wonnie, please..." you said sighing

‘So fucking sexy, you’re so fucking beautiful like that, baby,’ groans behind you, making you clench awkwardly as a soft chuckle resounds behind you and he sinks for the third time another finger inside you and pumps it, You screamed of pleasure because it was too much but he did not seem to care anything, his cock was again big and could not wait to fill you again and while you felt that you were coming he let out the finger from your poor pussy and yelled.

‘God, you’re so embarrassing little one,’ he said laughing as he lined up his big cock, the tip of his dick touching your pussy again, poking at your clitoris, and making you weep with needy names.

He can’t help but moan as he starts grinding the head of her cock against your folds.

‘Oh fuck,’ he says in a husky voice.

Breathless, you grab the sheets and hold them tight in your hands, while your ass and back rise slightly to feel it even more inside you.

"Fuck me, Wonnie, I want to hear you again".

Jungwon does not waste any more time and aligns itself to your entrance and pushes its length into you by sliding in until it is pressed all the way down. You groan in the hollow of your elbow, and your walls pulsate, full and so sensitive, he leans forward until his chest is flush with your back and the tip of his cock presses on your G-spot.

‘Do you feel good? Who would have thought that my roommate could take my cock so well’ whispers in your ear and you can only whine and nod.

‘This pussy is all mine, isn’t it?’ asks with clenched teeth as you hear his tail give you small slaps against the legs, nibbling on your shoulder skin, and starts rubbing his hips against you, rubbing his cock on your G-spot over and over again.

"Yes, all yours, please fill me up," whispers, gasping and he wasted no time starts pushing in and out his cock and as first you felt again that inhumane and visceral heat enveloping your body and especially the lower part of your belly, Your mouth opens immediately for the sensual sensation of being stretched and tied to him and you feel your belly full again.

‘No one else?’ He’s humming as if he didn’t already know.

"No, just your Jungwon" when he heard those words his knot tied you completely and you came together making a mess in his dick and him filling you again.

The sound of the storm roaring outside the window seemed farther away now, but the strong gusts of wind still shook the house. Jungwon was there, holding onto you, as if your presence was the only thing that could reassure him.

‘Are you really this calm when there’s a storm, Y/n?’ Jungwon asked, his voice a little lower, almost shy, as if embarrassed by his own behavior. He cuddled up even closer, his warm body pressed against yours, seeking comfort in your embrace.

‘I don’t understand… sometimes, when the noise is too loud, it feels like… it invades me completely. It’s strange.’

You felt tender toward him, even though his proximity made your heart race. You’d never seen Jungwon so vulnerable. His usual playful attitude was now replaced by a need for protection he couldn’t hide. With a gentle smile, you hugged him a little tighter.

“You know, as much as you may seem like a wild cat, you do like feeling safe, don’t you?” you asked, gently stroking his hair.

Jungwon lifted his head to look you in the eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips. ‘Everyone needs to feel safe,’ he said, but his tone immediately shifted to something more mischievous. ‘Though, sometimes, I think you’re protecting me from… something more intense than just a storm.’

You stirred slightly but didn’t pull away. “Well, it’s not like I mind holding you tight, Jungwon. Seems like you need me, huh?” you said, the warmth of your voice blending with the sweetness of the moment. You liked teasing him, seeing that spark of interest in Jungwon’s eyes.

He lowered his gaze, pretending to appear unfazed, but his eyes sparkled with a different light, one that spoke of hidden desire. ‘You’re right. I need you… more than you think. Especially when you make me feel… so real.’ His hand, which had been resting on your side, began to slowly slide down your back in a provocative manner, making you shiver under the touch.

The tension between the two of you was palpable, and despite trying to keep a light tone, you couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh.

"Oh, so you’re helpless, huh? You didn’t look helpless at first, it seemed to me that you had a lot of weapons at your disposal," you replied, as your eyes lowered to his lips.

Jungwon didn’t miss a chance. ‘It’s not just the weapons I have... it’s also my instincts’ he said with a dangerous grin, ‘can’t be ignored for long.’

A shiver ran down your spine. " Oh, really? And what will you do with all these 'instincts', Jungwon?" he chuckled and pinched your side and told you to stop

"You know...I’m really curious to see what it’s like when you’re in heat."

Jungwon, in a moment, became more serious, and his breath became heavier. ‘Oh, Y/n, you have no idea what can happen when I’m in heat. But I will tell you something...’ he whispered, bringing his mouth to your ear, his warm breath against your skin. ‘If you liked it so much when I filled you up before. Wait until I’m really in heat. It will be an experience you’ll never forget.’

A shiver ran down your back, but you couldn’t hide your smile. "I can’t wait to find out, Jungwon. But I hope you’ll be ready to handle it, because... I warn you, I have my ways of making you lose your head."

His hands gently grabbed your face, forcing you to look at it. ‘Oh, I will. I promise you that I will be as intense as possible. And when that time comes... you will not run away.’

The game between you two became more and more electric and yet there was a sweetness in all this, as if, under each provocative word, there was also a hidden love. And as the storm raged outside, within you was only the warmth of a bond that was growing ever stronger.

—————————————————————

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[keferon]

Part 2 of Golem!Prowl AU!

_____________________

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Part 1. Next->

The fic under the cut⤵️

Orion looks...sick. Worried. Scared.

“Prowl, do you know what the Great Hunt is?”

Prowl tilts his head keeping up with the lists he received from the Council.

“Traditional raids on monsters made to consolidate control over the land holdings of regular Mechs.”

Orion rubs the bridge of his nose

“It's a massacre.”

Prowl twitches his wing.

“It is a measure of intimidation against creatures that cannot be negotiated with. Brutal, I don't deny that, but experience shows it works. The destructive activity of monsters lessens considerably if they know their actions can be followed by punishment.”

Orion stares at him. For a long time. Silently.

Tensely studying him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“You think killing them instead of finding a compromise is...right?”

Prowl thinks he must be treading on unstable ground.

“I think it works. That is all. Monsters do a lot of damage with their existence. They kill, destroy and pillage. If periodically reducing their numbers reduces their damage, it confirms the effectiveness of the strategy.”

“They just want to live. Primus' sake, they want to eat.”

Prowl sighs. More for appearances than for any real effect.

“I suppose I can't judge them for wanting to survive. It makes sense.”

Orion nods.

He looks oddly pensive.

“Ratchet keeps picking up wounded...” he stammers, apparently trying to find a suitable alternative to the word monster “...wounded beastformers. I've been to his house. It's generous, but I'm afraid of what will happen if he gets caught doing it.”

Prowl frowns

“He should have stopped.”

“You wouldn't understand.” sighs Orion ”Him. Shockwave. We want to help. To make things better. I don't need you to chide me for disobeying the rules, I need you to figure out how to change them. Ghosts and insecticons deserve freedom as much as we do.”

“But...”

Orion looks at him angrily.

“No. Whatever you're going to say in response to that. No. I know you're driven primarily by logic, but I need you to remember it well. All sentient beings deserve to live free. Do you understand? All of them. Period.”

Prowl rolls up the lists and interlocks his fingers in front of him. There are small scuffs on his thumbs and index fingers from constant writing. He occupies himself with running his fingers over them, feeling the difference in texture.

“Mech's freedom in such a case ends where someone else's hungry jaws begin. You can't expect monsters and Mechs to just coexist in peace if you give them freedom.”

“No” sighed Orion ”That's why I support Shockwave's idea with creating an academy for magically gifted Mechs. He's helping to show the world that so-called 'dark creatures' can be as civilized citizens as any Mech. He teaches them to find that compromise. We can't just expect centuries of hate and fear to be forgotten once the laws change. We must direct this process. To help the Mechs understand and accept each other. Guide them, you might say.”

Prowl feels a headache coming on, as it always does when Orion requires him to logically solve a problem the answer to which lies in the feelings rather than the intellect. He's not built for this. It irritates him.

Orion stops right in front of him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Tell me what you think of this. If...let's pretend for a second that my morality fiddles don't matter anymore. That the problem of Mechs and monsters coexisting is something you alone need to solve. And solve it in such a way that the outcome is optimal for us as a society. To maximize the number of happy citizens. What would you do?”

Prowl is silent for a moment.

Orion squeezes his shoulder lightly before continuing.

“'Free from my judgmental conclusions, Prowl. From the standpoint of pure logic. What should we do?”

What to do...Prowl's thought process finally finds a direct and understandable train of thought. Monsters make up a paltry few percent of the population of all living Mechs. The numbers fluctuate depending on which region is being considered of course.

In some cities, some types of monsters are considered just fancy Mechs. Some monsters have risen from the status of savages to being respectable Mechs over the course of history. Even Orion's best friend, Shockwave, could be regarded as a mystical creature in some regions due to his gift of flight.

Nevertheless. The percentage is still minuscule.

But even that tiny percentage takes a significant toll on the economy and quality of life, because just one uncontrollable creature can terrorize an entire city.

He notes the weight of Orion's hand on his shoulder. Not judgmental. Orion promised he wouldn't judge.

“I'd get rid of the monsters.”

“Oh” Orion blinks ”Locked them in cages? Chased them away? Killed them?”

Prowl twitches his wings

“Banishment will only move the problem in terms of space, and imprisonment isn't secure enough. It would make sense to get rid of the monsters. Once and for all. It wouldn't be pretty or merciful, but it would greatly improve life for everyone, at the cost of a tiny percentage of living beings who were already of no use.”

“And you believe that would be a good outcome?”

“I believe it would.”

“But you're not a Mech yourself.” Orion reminds “Would you be willing to be exterminated along with the rest of the creatures if your plan were put into action?”

Prowl tilts his head slightly. Just to make it easier to look at Orion.

“You created me to, as you put it, help you make the world a better place. Sometimes in order to improve something you have to cut out the factors that get in the way. It's simple logic.”

“You didn't answer my question” Orion points out ”How would you feel if I decided to take your advice and destroy all mystical creatures, including you?”

“I am not made to feel” straightens Prowl ”My job is to find solutions to problems. I gave you a solution.”

“You don't include yourself in the reckoning.” snorts Orion “Again. You talk as if you will never be affected by anything.”

As it should be, Prowl thinks. He's a conscientious worker and a ..seemingly law-abiding citizen. He does what he can to make Mech's lives better. Even though he may not be a Mech, he's doing the right thing. Why would something happen to him?

Orion removes his hand from his shoulder and shakes his head.

“'Alright. I've heard you. But I want to make it as clear as possible - what you suggested is immoral, cruel, and should never be implemented. Do you understand me? Never. If you want to build a better world, you cannot and will not build it on other people's deaths. Have I made myself clear enough?”

“Perfectly clear.”

“Good.”

-----------------

Ratchet looks...many words could be used to describe him.

He's standing in the center of the trial room with a lot of emotions written all over his face. But if Prowl had to describe - he'd say Ratchet practically radiates rage. Not violent. More of a powerless one.

The rage of a Mech who knows he's cornered, but refuses to even consider giving up and admitting defeat.

Prowl sits in a far dark corner, silently documenting the whole process.

The council is furious. They apparently discovered that Ratchet has been dragging wounded monsters to his house and healing them all this time.

Which is ... very much as expected from Ratchet.

Prowl wants Orion here, but both Orion and Shockwave are now on a diplomatic mission a few days away, so the only support Ratchet has is...Prowl. Who can't help in any way, so he just sits there and meticulously documents the whole process so that Orion can then be informed of every single detail.

The council doesn't look happy. They say that Ratchet is sabotaging the hunters' efforts to contain the monsters by his actions.They are angered by Ratchet's absolute determination to insist that he was doing the right thing.

Prowl would be impressed, if only Ratchet's stubbornness made sense.

It's simple math. Ratchet saves lives. Monsters take them.

Thus Ratchet's life has much, much more weight and is more valuable.

If Ratchet would just accept the Council's decision now and promise to stop curing monsters, the whole problem would be solved as efficiently as possible.

But Ratchet, of course, persists. Probably just because that's his nature.

Ratchet can also afford to be so stubborn because his skill level makes him incredibly valuable to the Council. Prowl knows for a fact that if any other medic were in Ratchet's shoes right now - they would have been sentenced to banishment or execution by now.

When Ratchet realizes exactly how the Council caught him, his rage is instantly replaced by shock.

This revelation is enough to startle him and make him back down. To nod and numbly swear that he will end his "blasphemous hobby."

Prowl carefully folds the scribbled scrolls into the case as the Council doors close behind both his and Ratchet's backs.

“Orion will be happy to know that you were prudent enough to avoid death.”

Ratchet shifts his gaze to him

“You knew? Knew they could see through our optics? Did you know they could find out anything about any Mech at any time?”

Prowl tucks his hands behind his back and nods politely

“Knowing things is my job.”

Ratchet sighs. Heavy. Exhausted. Doomed maybe.

“How does Orion deal with it...”

“Orion has a reputation with the Council. They consider him a decent, law-abiding Mech, so they see no point in keeping tabs on him.”

“Are you kidding?” Raetchet raises his eyebrows “Orion can't do everything he does and remain ‘decent’ in their eyes. He and Shockwave practically cuddle with every possible creature every day and all they get is a little reprimand????”

Prowl tilts his head

“Orion learned to look away in time. And he has me for everything else.”

Ratchet doesn't answer him. He rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly and starts to walk away.

His shoulders look oddly tense. He looks defeated, but not in the way a Mech would describe a slain turbofox. No. There is a deep-seated, angry determination.

A willingness to act dictated by desperation.

The news of the surveillance has thrown Ratchet off balance but not knocked him off his feet as the Council had hoped.

Prowl looks at his back and walks off in the opposite direction. The problems of living, feeling Mechs have always been and will always be mysterious to him.

Ratchet does what no one expects him to do.

He doesn't stage protests. He doesn't accept the verdict.

He leaves silently, taking with him only medical supplies and an old lantern.

The council is furious, turning over every stone in an attempt to find him, but all in vain.

Prowl's daily duties now include “keeping track of any possible news related to Ratchet.“

And then, no matter what he finds, report to Orion that he's found nothing.

Put on a little regular show for all concerned. Show the Mechs in the Council that Orion remains loyal and does his best to find and bring to justice any blasphemer whether it's a friend of his or not.

He is his purpose. But the more time passes, the harder it becomes for him to trace the path to the fulfillment of that purpose. He envies the golems whose only function is to scrub floors. Their lives are understandable. A clean floor is a temporary but easily attainable goal. They are happy to fulfill the goal for which they were created. And then they're happy knowing their job is done well, until the floor gets dirty again.

Prowl is walking towards his goal, but it's not getting any closer. He knows what he needs to do to get there, but the variables are constantly changing and he has to adjust his course of action each time according to new information, conditions, and Orion's opinion on them.

Politics is infinitely more complicated than mopping floors after all.

————————————

Orion doesn't turn around on him as they walk down the hall. But Prowl can physically feel the attention focused on him.

“Prowl. Did you know I was awarded today for my ''outstanding service'' by the entire Council?”

“I did not.

“They've gone through all the reports and discovered that according to the logs me and my mechs are performing excellently when it comes to eliminating mystical threats.”

“Congratulations.”

“It's funny that you feel the need to congratulate me too” Orion continues ”Because I certainly didn't give orders to eliminate anyone.”

Their pacing doesn't falter. They continue to walk calmly down the hallway as if nothing is happening. But Prowl can practically taste the increased tension.

“Prowl” says Orion “Why is the Council rewarding me for murder? And where are the Mechs they think I killed now?”

Prowl checks the scrolls. Not because he doesn't remember. Just to buy some time to formulate an answer.

“They were the inevitable casualties. I took charge of their destruction. On your behalf.”

“You know how I feel about killing.”

“I know.” nods Prowl for some reason. Why? Not that Orion can see it “I also know how the Council feels about Mechs showing suspicious activity. They would have started watching you as soon as they noticed you were letting monsters slip away from you suspiciously often.”

Orion...sounds... conflicted. He sounds struggling.

“You killed them.”

“I gave the order. As any other hunter would have done in my place.”

Orion stops so abruptly that Prowl doesn't catch the moment and bumps into his back.

“We're supposed to be better than other hunters Prowl! How can you still not grasp that concept!!!”

Orion looks furious. Prowl discreetly looks around.

Around them is a relatively empty hall. Windows covered by heavy curtains. The cleaning golems scurrying back and forth.

“I understand” he says “But let me remind you that you cannot test their trust infinitely. Your 'being better' rests on your reputation. And it's my job to make sure your reputation lives up to it.”

Orion looks at him...Prowl isn't even sure how to describe it. Usually he has to argue with Orion's logic, proving his point but this time...Orion is the one arguing with him.

It feels strange. Uncomfortable.

He's doing everything Orion wanted him to do, but for the sake of it he has to do something Orion can't stand.

Orion clenches and unclenches his fists helplessly. Rubbing the fabric of his cloak.

“Shockwave can save lives without killing anyone.”

“Shockwave is one unfortunate act away from serious consequences” shakes his head Prowl “His academy is looking more and more like his own small army every day. His students are not loyal to the Council, they are loyal to Shockwave. And the Council knows that. And will use it. And it won't be pretty when it happens.”

“No...” shakes his head Orion, not addressing anyone in particular ”No no no no no...”

Prowl can understand why Orion is upset. But he also knows he's right this time. Shockwave may look like a fine example of mercy, but he walks on the very edge of the law and any wrong move will instantly turn him from “out of the box thinker” to renegade.

The Council will come for his head and the Council will get his head because Shockwave will have nothing to prove his loyalty with.

Orion will. Prowl made sure of that.

Orion can bend the rules, can borrow the Council's trust, can do all sorts of reprehensible things. He can stumble and fall and then fall a couple more times and find that it doesn't hurt him because Prowl caught him even before he stumbled.

He did it at the cost of lives. Yes.

But Orion's life is far more valuable than the lives of monsters.

Society doesn't need monsters to become better, but society needs Orion. Monsters need Orion. Because if Orion is gone, no one else will care about his idealistic goal.

“Sometimes I forget how creepy you can be...” mutters Orion ”You're going to betray me sooner or later.”

“I could never betray you.” Prowl twitches his wing.

“You've successfully betrayed what I believe in.”

“It's fine with me if you hate me for it. As long as you are alive, safe, and can continue your quest.”

Orion falls silent.

He turns away to stare at a strip of light from a nearby window. There are beautiful, wrought iron grates that cast an intricate, curved shadow on the floor and walls.

A golem janitor hurries past them.

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Shockwave falls.

Prowl isn't there to see for himself, but a lot of rumors reach him. Lots. Lots of rumors.

The Mechs say the time of the Great Hunt has come.

They say that when the hunters arrived on the Academy's doorstep, Shockwave didn't let them in.

They say. He stood in front of the gates.

With sword in one hand and the Primus Covenant in the other, and declared that his school was a sanctuary for all living beings in need of protection.

Claimed that anyone who dared set foot inside with a weapon would have to go through him.

“And they retreated!” gestures Orion frantically ”They didn't dare test him! They backed away from the walls of the Academy. I don't know how many monsters were left alive in the forests that night, but none of Shockwave's students were harmed...”

Prowl listens with a healthy dose of wariness

“The Council wouldn't just let him do that.”

Orion begins nervously winding circles around the room.

“You're right, you're right. You're right now and you were right back then. They're going to bring him before the Court by tomorrow, and...”

“There's no chance of that ending well,...is there?" Prowl finishes his thought.

Orion looks pained

“They'll be going through everything he's been up to. Every forged document, every enrolled Mech who by all criteria should be considered a monster. Every time he sheltered them from the Council instead of destroying them. They'll realize what he's been doing and they won't like it at all.”

Prowl...trying to sound reassuring.

“Shockwave has tremendous support from his Academy. There's a chance the Council will be afraid of invoking their wrath and won't judge Shockwave too harshly.”

Orion continues to walk in circles

“You think so?”

“There is a good chance.”

Prowl finds Orion in Sickbay. Which is very disturbing and wrong, because Orion was supposed to be at the Trial. Supporting Shockwave and begging the Council to relent.

But Orion is in Sick Bay. When he shouldn't be.

And he's covered in ugly dark burns. From something Prowl can't recognize.

This is all wrong. It's all--

“What happened at the trial?”

Orion sounds. Startled.

“There was no Trial.”

“What?”

Orion sounds as if something inside him has cracked. In every sense of the phrase.

“The Trial hasn't even had time to begin. He...” Orion clutches his trembling fingers, hoping to still them, but it has no tangible effect. His shoulders are trembling.

He looks like his whole body could be torn apart with one careless touch. “They asked him if he would plead guilty to aiding and abetting dark creatures. All they had time to ask was if he realized he was wrong.”

An uncomfortable, prickly feeling settles in Prowl's mind.

"And?”

Orion squeezes his fingers so hard the creaking of hinges becomes audible.

“It...I...Prowl, his very spark began to ooze dark magic. It was horrible, it was like.. it was eating him from the inside. The entire courtroom became darker than night, many Mechs got burned. I've never seen anything like this before! He..It.. started attacking Mechs and destroying everything...it was like it went crazy...it attacked me and I had to...Prowl I had to fight it! I didn't...I'd heard about it happening but I believed until the last minute that I wouldn't have to face it...”

Gears of chaotic detail fall into place in Prowl's mind.

“Shockwave...turned into a demon...?”

Orion nods shakily

“The Council didn't even have a chance to sentence him or spare him or even sort out what happened.....

He stated that he did not consider himself guilty for what he had done and...Primus was the one who made the judgment before anyone else could...”

That's... terrifying really. For a number of reasons. Losing a close friend is awful, being subjected to such merciless punishment is awful, but also...

What sends a chill down Prowl's back is the moral implication that such punishment carries.

Orion, as if reading his thoughts, raises his gaze to him

“Is what we are doing...wrong? I don't...does Primus think helping monsters is worthy of punishment?”

Now that's a really reasonable question.

Shockwave would say that Primus is merciful and would never condemn a Mech for an act of kindness. But Shockwave ended up being condemned.

Ratchet would say that he doesn't care about Primus' opinion because Primus isn't real. But Ratchet isn't here.

Prowl wants to say that it doesn't matter whether or not Primus thinks they're wrong, what matters is that he can at any moment force his justice on any living spark, so his concept of right has to become Orion's too, or else he's doomed. But Orion is definitely in no state to have a philosophical argument. He looks shattered and Prowl almost instinctively is about to go and find Shockwave, but remembers that option is no longer available.

He's not made for this. Shockwave has always been the one to cheer Orion up on a bad day. Not Prowl, no. Prowl isn't sure what to do so he just sits down next to him and gently places a hand on Orion's shoulder. The one where he can't see the burns, so it shouldn't hurt.

“I don't. I'm used to always relying on your point of view as a reference for what's right and what's wrong.”

“I know” runs a shaky hand over his face Orion “But it's not like I'm perfect. I try, god, I try but just like with the logical part - my vision isn't flawless. Have I been...wrong all this time? Trying to disrupt Primus' intended vision? Maybe what I've been trying to fix never needed fixing. Maybe it's just me being so stupid and not understanding things maybe...???”

Orion cuts himself off mid sentence, realizing that he's started raising his voice and waving his arms around again. He sits back down on the medical bed and curls back up into a miserable ball.

“What should I do....”

“I don't know,” Prowl repeats awkwardly.

He is his goal. But his goal ..doesn't exist anymore?

He doesn't know where to put himself.

Golems are made to fulfill requests. But Orion's request system has been evolving and complicating for so long that Prowl can't tell where its boundaries are anymore.

He feels lost.

——————————

Orion stops cold.

“What...”

Prowl, standing at his right hand looks equally puzzled.

They are in a spacious courtyard bordering directly on the Council building. It's a very beautiful, open and spacious place because it was originally built with large crowds of Mechs in mind. There's wide walkways, a massive circular plaza with fountains and statues.

And right now, it's filled to the brim with Mechs, most of whom Prowl is seeing for the first time. They're all wearing knight armor and carrying weapons, however still kept in their scabbards.

They look like a small army. A very, very diverse army, Prowl realizes. Because there are almost no regular Mechs among them.

Orion looks... distraught.

Mechs? Monsters? A few knights separate and come closer, bowing their heads respectfully.

“Orion Pax.”

There is so much grief and disbelief in Orion's eyes that it physically hurts to look at him.

When he begins to speak his voice sounds hoarse, like someone has poured sand down his throat.

“What...what are you doing here...?”

The knight standing in front of everyone ceremoniously places his palm on his spark.

“We are here to fulfill the last will of our mentor and your friend. Shockwave has decreed in his last will that in the event of his death his legacy must pass to you and those of us who wish to carry on his work must publicly pledge our allegiance to your will.”

Orion clutches his hands together to keep them from starting to shake again.

“But...I was there. I...your mentor was slain by my hands...how can you..."

"It doesn't matter. Everything that was his is now yours." smiles the knight sadly "We will make sure his legacy lives on. And even if the Academy falls - you can always count on us."

At the same time as he finishes speaking, the knight in blue armor drops to one knee, pulling Shockwave's sword from its sheath and holding it out respectfully to Orion... who looks like he's about to start crying.

He dazedly accepts the sword, twitching in surprise when it turns out to be heavier than expected and probably tries to say something, but all that comes out is a short sorrowful sigh.

He just.

Clutches the sword to his chest, watching in disbelief as all the arriving mechs get down on one knee following the blue knight. There aren't that many mechs, but at this point - they seem to rival the sea.

Prowl knows some of them. Many of them made their way to Shockwave after Orion found them. There's the harpy over there who nearly ripped Orion's head off the first time they met. A few ghosts he can remember the faces of but doesn't know the names. He'd had a long argument with Orion that day, trying to convince him that he shouldn't take their word for it when they promised to make it up to him.

And now they're all here. In beautiful new armor. Executing their mentor's last will and testament.

Just like regular Mechs, only a little eccentric looking.

The crowd of hunters that has come to find out what's going on looks as speechless and dumbfounded as Orion.

" What" Orion also gets down on one knee to be on the same level as the knight "what's your name?"

Prowl squints warily from behind Orion's shoulder. The blue mech looks normal, but to be honest, there's no way someone coming out of the Shockwave Academy is going to be an normal plain mech. There has to be a catch somewhere.

"My name is Skids," smiles the knight shyly. "I am...was...Shockwave's best student."

"You are very brave Skids" smiles Orion sorrowfully "I promise to do my best to take care of Shockwave's legacy. And you."

Orion drops his head on the table tiredly.

"This is crazy..."

Prowl pulls an important document from under Orion's head

"It's also quite devious. Shockwave told them specifically to swear to you where all comers can see it. So there's no way for the Council to accuse you of purposely swaying an army of monsters to your side. Everyone saw that this gift was given by force. Now you have many allies with unique skills who are loyal to you and the Council won't try to take them away because they are firmly convinced that you are loyal to the Council."

Prowl examines the document for damage before setting it aside.

"It is..."

"Shockwave gave you an opportunity."

"And I don't know what to do with it!" raises his head Orion "Shockwave was smarter than me and made a lot of plans in case of...I don't know...anything?? I didn't...Prowl. We've been down this path for so long and I was always sure there would be something good at the end of it. Or at least better than it is now..."

Orion rubs his chin and shakes his head awkwardly

"...But if there's only the wrath of Primus and endless darkness at the end...I can't ask anyone to follow me there. I'm not sure if I can keep going myself..."

He sighs helplessly

"I'm not even sure if that even matters."

"The chance that Shockwave would try to use you in some way was about twenty-eight percent."

Orion twitches

"What?"

"I understand that you're hurt by his...fate." Says Prowl "But have you considered the possibility that Shockwave was being punished for betraying you rather than the Council?"

Orion doesn't even answer at first. Just looks at him dazed and bitter.

"Prowl...no. He couldn't have."

"I'm just speculating" shrugs Prowl "Shockwave was punished but as far as I know God didn't bother to name the exact charge. We don't know one hundred percent what exactly caused his...sentence. He may have betrayed the Council's ideas, or he may have betrayed yours."

They both just exist in silence for a while. Processing the information.

"If...and I mean if!!! If Shockwave was convicted of harboring monsters, then everything we've been doing all this time can be considered useless blasphemy..." says Orion slowly "...but if he was punished for something else..."

"...then that would mean there's nothing wrong with your idea." finishes Prowl.

Orion frowns

"It would also mean that Shockwave lied to me..."

Prowl nods. The situation is ugly no matter which way you look at it.

Shockwave, as Prowl knows him, would hardly have framed Orion, but Mechs tend to go to great lengths to avoid execution.

If Shockwave had shifted some of the blame to Orion then, it would have partially saved him. Was that what he was going to do? Was this what Primus had stopped him from doing?

Orion's finials twitch slowly

"I don't know Prowl. I don't know what to do. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of my fantasies."

Orion is hard to read, but right now he's an open book.

Prowl tilts his head

"You're scared."

Orion looks. Defeated. Crumpled.

Discolored.

" I am."

Prowl can't work with that. He's used to solving logical problems and making lists and strategies.

He doesn't know how to get someone to stop being scared.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I don't know." mutters Orion "I don't know, I have no idea. It's too much...All these new knights, this whole council situation and now you're also saying that the mech I treasured the most could actually be a liar and...just leave me alone."

"But..."

"Just go away!" shakes his head Orion "Go find something else to do, find a hobby, I don't know! Get out of my head and out of my personal life!"

Prowl nods silently.

Places a couple papers in their places and silently walks out the door.

Gestures a greeting to some mech passing by.

And is completely unsure of what to do with himself.

Orion's too stunned by everything that's happened to give him a clear purpose. And without a purpose, he...he's gone.

He continues to stand by the closed door.

A thought runs obsessively through his mind.

If Shockwave was sentenced for something no one knew about, then punishing him the moment of that trial was a truly terrible decision and even worse timing.

But if Shockwave was sentenced for helping monsters...Prowl isn't sure why his mind resists the idea.

Maybe he's not being objective because he shares Orion's views and aspirations.

Maybe because he has looked at the entire square filled with dangerous monsters and has seen nothing but sorrow and respect in them.

The idea comes naturally.

Then God must be wrong.

He looks at the cleaning golems again. He envies them.

They are peace and contentment.

They are a clear and simple goal.

Probably the biggest stress that happens to them is random mechs passing by and interfering with their cleaning.

And then there's Prowl, standing by with no meaning or purpose and wishing he could throw something heavy because the one who gets in his way is an indefinable force of nature and a complex system of values and beliefs created by millions of years of cultural development....

But Primus can't stop him, can he?

Prowl is not alive. He has no emotion so that his intentions can be categorized as evil, but more importantly he has no spark so that its magic can turn him into a demon.

He is his purpose. His purpose is his god. And Primus stands in his way.

He turns around and walks away.

[sevsbunny]

secrets

gp!alpha!sevika x omega!reader

4k words!

warnings — sevika has a dick. talks of knotting. fingering (r). thigh riding. slight choking. semi public sex. joint mention.

the brain rot is overwhelming in this one. trust there will be a part two, however please send me things for these two! i want this to be an au <3

skin tone in both pictures is not related/relevant! it is purely for the outfit <3 (minus gloves)

EIGHTEEN PLUS MINORS AND MEN DNI

her scent was intoxicating, smelling of musk, cinnamon, sweat, a hint of mint. and something else. something possessive.

there was no denying the pull you had to her the second you felt her presence enter the threshold of the small meeting room. you were new to the team, having been there for a mere year — and considered an asset for being the only omega — but to each their own.

you needed money. you needed to make a living.

you hadn’t been claimed by an alpha. not that you didn’t want to, just…you hadn’t met the right one.

some were powerful, which usually came with the upper hand of being able to conceal the abuse some held. others were, well. boring. they didn’t spark that interest in you, didn’t make your body thrum with excitement when they were around. you didn’t feel ‘the spark’ your other younger omega friends had talked about when they met their alpha’s in college.

you thought it was something that didn’t exist.

silco paid you well, enough for you to have your own little studio apartment on the top floor. it was small, but you had a rooftop access essentially, so you turned it into a little cozy space.

the hours were tiring, however. you posed as being decoy to missions — a little lost omega in a big city with no one to help her — it was the best weapon to busting these goons that kept stealing from silco.

it was fulfilling for a while, until it wasn’t. you know, the usual motions.

however, it kept you close to sevika. more than it should.

it was dizzying — having to work so closely to her because she was the leader. the one to call the shots. the one that watches everything that goes down, to make sure things are going according to plan.

there were times on the way back from a mission that was more emotionally taxing than the last, that she would let you lean into her, find comfort in her being in alpha.

she knew she shouldn’t let it get farther than that, you were unclaimed and it was dangerous waters for her to be so close to an unclaimed omega when she had been resisting her rut for years.

you noticed her keeping her distance most days, how she would stand on the other side of the room, noticeably the one with the window cracked open. you’d study her figure, the way her broad muscles block out most of the limited light streaming in through the cracked pieces of stained glass. that ruby red cloak sat neatly and layered on her left shoulder, hiding her mech arm. something that you thought of more often than you should’ve.

her brows were usually furrowed at anything, and it seemed that she had permanent scowl on her face. you figured this type of work would do that to you, but that was just how she was. her short, dark brown locks were always in a half ponytail, stray pieces of hair always framing her face that always fell out of the loose ponytail. your fingers itched to push them behind her ear whenever your focus was locked in too long on her.

her eyes never left the usual spot in front of her, darting towards the door when someone knocked, or looked over at silco when he was speaking. but she never gave you a second glance. it kind of killed you on the inside, that just because she was an alpha and you an omega, meant she wasn’t able to spare you at least one single peek. you were always polite and respectful when she was in the room, why wouldn’t she look at you?

it wasn’t like sevika didn’t see you. fuck, all she could smell was you. the scent signature to you, a pretty little unclaimed omega that taunted her every single day when you showed up for work. it was like the devil couldn’t reach her, so instead she gave her you.

it took her resisting herself every single day after meetings to shove you up against the wall and shove her thigh in between your heat, hearing your soft whimpers in her ear as she made you feel the pleasure only an alpha could bring you.

it was after a particularly stressful mission the team had, that you felt like you had almost had enough. and it seemed like sevika was right there with you.

you were both planning to show up at an event, a gala where most of the wealthiest people silco was after would be. it was a pretty elaborate event, one they had been planning on for a while, so you knew better than to think with your pussy tonight.

you had worn a pretty little number, a silk dress that fell down to your ankles, a slit on the left left that ran up to your mid thigh — almost exposing what underwear you should’ve had on. you knew you had work to do, but you also knew you wanted to get fucked up, and you thought you had a pretty good handle on doing just that. (you very much didn’t.)

your hair had been done up, adding on your favorite pearl earrings with matching necklace and black stilettos with a red bottom. you had your signature scent on your wrists and behind your ears, a pink sugar scent with your added omega scent -- vanilla with an undertone of lavender. you knew you looked good, fuck you felt good.

the second you saw sevika, however, you knew it was over for you.

her hair was slicked back into a low bun at the nape of her neck, two pieces of small braids framed her face holding a few pieces of gold hair jewelry. a thin gold chain sat under her neck, white dress shirt with a few top buttons undone with a black vest matching her slacks. her sleeves were rolled up a quarter of a way on her thick arms. you could see a small design of henna on her right hand, the intricate patterns running up to her wrist. you could see the soft light of her mech arm under the fabric of her shirt, and you swore you could smell her from where you stood at the bar. you didn’t know if she had seen you yet, thankfully. you looked away from her, not daring to bring your eyes to her face incase you made some accidental eye contact. you flagged down the bartender and asked for a drink, letting out an exhale of breath as you reminded yourself to stick to the mission.

you knew the second you raised this drink to your lips, it was trouble. there were smells of other alphas around you, and you knew with the way you looked and the fact you had on nothing underneath, you were just asking for an alpha to come up to talk to you.

you didn’t want it though, and sevika wouldn’t allow that anyways.

she spotted you, of course she did. she smelled you before she saw you. it was invading her senses, making her brain full of thoughts of just you. it was getting harder and harder to resist her rut every single day when it came around you.

she let out an exhale as she watched you drink yout concoction at the bar, your legs crossed at the knee to reveal more of your thigh at the slit on your left leg. if she squinted hard enough, she could swear she knew you weren’t wearing anything. but you wouldn’t do that, this is work, you’d keep it professional, right?

her back was pushed up against the wall near one of the doors that let out to a balcony, one that looked over a garden with a little pond. the lights out there were off, no one was permitted to go down to the garden, just on the balcony. you both also knew it was an advantage point these people could have.

you werent sure how much time has passed, but you could feel the alcohol start to take over in your body. you felt giggly, happy and carefree and you honestly could care less what anyone else thought. you had an elbow on the bar, legs still crossed with your back semi to sevika. she couldnt see who you were talking to, but whoever it was was making you laugh like no one should.

she saw a manicured hand rest on your arm in a playful banter, making her chest inhale and exhale heavily. she knew there were other alphas here -- and she knew that you didnt belong to her but couldnt you behave for just once? it pissed her off, how carelessly you were throwing away the mission…

right, the mission.

her huffs again, taking one last long drag to the joint in her hand before flicking her gold lighter closed and placing it into her breast pocket. she kicks off the wall and comes over to you at the bar.

you smell her before you see her.

“ladies,” she says casually, the joint that was once inbetween her fingers, now fell loosely at her lips and smug smile on her lips as she looked down to you and then over towards the other alpha.

“sevika! wonderful to see you!” you sat up a bit straighter as sevika moved closer, half her chest overtaking the front of your seat as you sat back. your thighs pressed against hers as she leaned across the bar casually. she takes a hit from the joint before handing it to you — not offering.

you take it, while she strikes up a conversation with the middle aged alpha that was just hitting on you. you could feel your anger bubbling inside. why would she interrupt you like that? its not like she owned you. you didn’t belong to anyone.

but seeing the way she leans over you, passing the joint between the three of you had you squeezing your thighs a little bit. she perked up a little bit, her nose smelling a slight change in you. you eyed you for a second while the woman she was talking to got held up by a phone call.

“i was fine, you didnt have to come over here.” she grunts as she ashes the joint before taking another hit, still leaning against the counter top. you couldnt focus on much of anything other than the way she was looking at you, how her musk was invading your senses by being this close. you could swear she could hear your heartbeat in your chest harder when her eyes gloss over your figure once before back to your gaze.

“ive seen how many drinks youve ordered. youre getting drunk.” she says matter of factly before bringing the joint up to your lips to hit. you felt a shiver run through your body at the action before taking a hit and exhaling it, the smoke wrapping around her face. her gaze darkens before she takes another hit and ashing it out, and grabbing your discarded drink. she tosses it back and finishes it, before gripping your hand and pulling you off the chair at the bar.

“come with me.” her tone is heavy, angry. you can tell that you over did it, but you can’t think of anything other than her strong grasp she has on your hand, her fingers big and soft. you feel your pussy throb at the thought of them stuffing you full.

she grips your wrist, trying to ignore the way your blood pulses under her touch, how good you smell combined with the faint scent of your slick. turned on already and nothing has even happened has her huffing out of her nose in jealousy.

“you think you can just walk around the office in those short skirts, these tight blouses and get away with it?” she grunts against your ear as she corners you in a dark hallway, the sounds of the gala going on, on the other sides of the wall. it was all around you, but you could only focus on the heat that radiated off of sevika. her thick thigh was snug against your heat, and you could feel her cock throb through her slacks as she presses against you. you couldn’t really think straight at this point, having four flutes of champagne along with the shared joint the two of you just had, your head was empty.

you were officially thinking with your pussy.

fuck.

“what is it, little omega? can’t think straight already? look how easy you are, how small you are…” her mech hand comes up to your chest, the sharp end of her pointer finger trailing a thin line up your skin, right in the divet of your cleavage. you let out a soft whine at the sensation, your cunt throbbing with the lightest touch of hers. she smiles softly, before hooking her metal finger under the band of pearls that were resting peacefully on your throat.

“i know of something that will look better than these around this perfect neck of yours…” her voice is low, moving a shudder through your body as you register how dark and heady her tone is. you inhale as she tugs on the string of pearls and tugs, the string snapping and sending the pearls flying around the two of you, rolling against the ceramic flooring.

her right hand comes up from your hip, her hips rocking ever so slowly into your body. her fingers trailed up the slit of your dress over your skin, catching the edge of the slit and pulling up to reveal the plush parts of your nude hips.

“nothing underneath? while your dripping? you were asking to get someones knot, weren’t you?” you blush darkly at her words, your heat throbbing at the thought of not just anyone giving you their knot.

“not anyone…yours, sev…” her grip on your dress tightens and you swore you could hear it tear. your eyes flicker up from her lips up to her eyes, the darkened gaze she gives you as you whine underneath her. her flesh hand comes to cup your neck, fingers wrapping tightly around you making you gasp out with want. she chuckles darkly at the sound, shaking her head.

“you’re so easy, you know what?” she shakes her head again as she positions her thigh firmly against your heat, moving the fabric of your dress out of the way to reveal to her your cunt snug against the fabric of her slacks. she feels her mouth water as she leans back enough to look at you, then back down to your hips. she squeezes your neck just a smidge before pushing her thigh harder against your cunt. “ride my thigh, baby. get that pussy for me, hm?”

you let out a soft whine as your hips move instinctively to the command, and she cant help but curse our a soft ‘fuck’ as you move. youre so wet, your cunt moves easily over her silk slacks, creating a damp spot on her thigh instantly. her hand around her throat tightens a bit, and you let out a bated moan at the action, grinding your hips harder down on her in response.

“such a fucking dirty omega. who woulda thought, huh?” she grunts as you smile softly in response. she growls deeply, taking her hard from around your neck to move her thigh and cup your heat. she lets out a low moan as her fingers run through your wet folds. she cages you against the wall, her face hiding into your neck as she nips your jaw.

“sev…” you whine out, moving your hips against the feather light touch of her fingers on you, not moving inside of you, but not not touching you. she groans against you as she deeply inhales your omega scent, her brain fighting with everything in her to not let her rut over take this moment.

“fuck, princess. what do you want, hm? use your words.” you let out a soft huff as your head falls back, biting your lip and moving your hips needily for friction. she smiles against her neck, nosing the spot where an alpha could claim you. you let out a soft whimper at the action, more slick gushing onto her fingers. “oh little omega…” she grunts against you, slipping her two fingers easily into your dripping hole, moaning into your ear. her cock was throbbing in her slacks, a damp spot on the fabric making her groan as she grinds her hips into you as she fucks you with her fingers.

her fingers stretch you, the sting quickly turning into pleasure an you can help but moan at the thought of it being her cock stretching you out like this.

your hands come to wrap around her neck, letting her frame hold you off the ground and against the wall with her mech hand anchoring the two of you steady. the sound of your slick against her fingers made you shutter, the sounds of her breathy moans against your neck had you squeezing her digits. “more…” you moan softly into her ear, your finger nails digging into the fabric of her shirt in need. you needed her closer, you needed to feel her deep inside of you.

you needed her knot.

“what is that, omega?” she heard you the first time, but she just couldnt bare to stop fucking you in her fingers like this, feeling your body slack against hers and moving with each stroke on her digits in your weeping pussy. she loved the feeling of you submitting to her, even if its only on her fingers for now.

“more, please, sev…” you let out a wanton moan as she pushes her fingers deep into your cunt, curling them slowly as her thumb presses firmling against your clit. your hips jolt in response, the oversensitivity clouding your brain and making your body react without thinking. she loved having you this pliable in her hands.

“more what, baby?” she wanted you to beg for her knot. she wanted to hear the desperate moans fall from your lips, she wanted to see you fall apart for her. it’s what you and her deserved. she kept her thumb firmly on your clit, moving it in slow circles while your body twitches in her hold. “so responsive,” she mumbles more to herself, before she pulls her head from your neck to look down at your debauched body. your body thrums at the touch, at the praise she gives you and how hungrily she looks up and down your body.

your hands come to grip her shoulders as your brows furrow with want, the look in your eye softening as you stare up at her. she rocks against you, her fingers moving slowly inside of you as her thumb brushes your clit. “your knot…need it…” your cheeks darken at the admission, her smile showing on her lips, showing the gap in her teeth that you love so much..

“that’s what you need, huh?” her fingers speed up as so does her thumb on your clit, a moan falling from your lips as her fingers curl inside of you. “cum on my fingers first, show me how bad this pussy needs my knot.” she grunts as she picks up the pace, your slick running down her wrist and falling onto her slacks. her cock is painful at this point, her knot throbbing as she hears each whine and moan fall from your lips in the empty hallway. she was so lucky everything was louder than the sound of your moans or how wet your pussy was with her finger stuffed inside of you.

your moans turn into sharp whines as you feel your stomach clenches, her hips pushing into you and her fingers curling deep. your nails dig into her dress suit as you shut your eyes and lick your lips. “that’s it baby. cum on my fingers. give it to me.” you let out a sharp moan as your cunt clenches around her fingers, slick gushing from your cunt as you cum. she groans into your ear as she pushes her body weight against you, nibbing the sensitive skin at your exposed collarbone.

you whine softly, feeling her fingers come to a slow movement, thumb slowing down before stopping and pressing firmly against it just to feel your clit throb under the pad of her thumb. she softly removes her fingers from your dripping cunt, before taking both her hands and cupping them under your ass.

“youre so fucking pretty when you cum, omega.” she murmurs against you, and you cant help but let out a satisfied sigh, wrapping your legs around her waist and letting her heavy body fall against you. your body is light to the touch, and you can feel her cock throb against your core. it makes your cunt cry.

“sev…” you mumble against her neck, your arms wrapped around her neck as she groans when you push your hips against her. she nips your skin a bit harder as she pushes her hips harder into you. her scent was overpowering — musk was invading your senses and you could smell something sour, nothing to make you turn your nose but it made you wonder if she was starving off a rut.

the thought alone made your mouth water.

she groans against you as she inhales you, her nose pushing into your neck as her tongue darts out and licks a small stripe on your skin. she moans against your skin, tasting your musk, your perfume and sweat. her cock throbs at the thought of you cumming on her face, her tongue.

she whimpers into your skin, actually fucking whimpers, which makes your cunt throb in response. “fuck, omega…i…we can’t, not in here anyway,” she mumbles into you, and you feel your heart rate spike at her saying ‘anyway’. has she thought about taking you home and making you hers as much as you have thought about it?

you tug her closer, your left hand coming down to trail to her slacks zipper then her fingers grazing over sevika’s bulge. she moans into your skin, hips bucking into your touch. she needs this, needs you — but shes better than that. she knows how to treat a lady and she does not want the first time you take her knot to be at some random gala work event.

fuck, the event.

“don’t,” she warns softly, nosing your neck as she kisses your skin. your fingers halt against her bulge, but her hips still rock softly into your touch. she needs you, but she needs to see you laid out for her.

she pulls her head away from your neck, feeling a loss at not having your scent directly into her nostrils and instead having to be mixed with other scents. she takes her flesh hand from under your ass to come to cup your face. you lean into her touch, nuzzling your cheek into the palm of her hand.

“i don’t want the first time you take my knot here. i want it somewhere comfortable, okay?” herr grey eyes dazzle in the low light, and you can see how sincere her gaze is under the lust invading her scenes. you melt into her touch, taking your hand from her bulge to wrap around her neck again, she pushes her hips one last time against your core, and you let out a soft whine at the contact.

“lets finish this event, then let me take you home. feed you, fuck you, care for you.” you let out a soft whimper at her admission before nodding and nuzzling deeper into her palm.

“what about my pearls?” you ask with a soft smile looking up at her. she chuckles and shakes her head before dipping her head down, brushing her lips softly against yours.

“i’ll buy you all the pearl necklaces and more, mi amor.” she says softly before pressing her lips firmly against yours.

[cheeseatlantic]

Stay and Study

!olderbfsimon x collegestudentfemreader

You’re in front of the mirror, checking your makeup for the third time, when Simon speaks up from his desk.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The question isn’t particularly harsh, just that usual deep, even tone of his that always makes you pause. But this time, you don’t. You just smooth your dress down and turn to face him.

“Out.”

Simon leans back in his chair, setting his pen down. He looks good like this—gray sweatpants, black t-shirt stretched over his broad chest, forearms bare, veins visible. His expression is unreadable, though there’s something in the way his fingers tap against the desk that makes your stomach twist.

“Yeah?” He tilts his head. “Got your coursework done, then?”

You blink, immediately shifting on your feet. “I will,” you say, and it’s not even convincing to your own ears.

Simon’s eyebrows lift just slightly, like he’s waiting for you to realize how weak of an excuse that is.

You groan, rolling your eyes. “I’ll do it later, Si. It’s one night—”

“One night turns into two, and suddenly you’re scrambling to finish a paper the night before it’s due.” His voice is steady, patient, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s already decided how this will play out.

Your jaw tightens, and you cross your arms. “So what? I’ve been working all week, and I want to have fun.”

“You’ve got time to have fun when you’re not behind on work,” he says simply.

That’s the thing about Simon—he’s not the type to yell or argue. He just states things, firm and rational, like there’s no point in even trying to disagree. And it’s fucking annoying.

You scoff, turning away from him, reaching for your purse. “God, you sound like a dad—”

Before you can finish, there’s a heavy sigh, the creak of his chair, and then—Simon is behind you.

His body presses against your back, radiating warmth, large hands resting on your waist. His lips graze your ear as he murmurs, “Don’t start with me, dollie.”

You swallow hard, but the fight in you hasn’t burned out yet. “You can’t just tell me what to do.”

He hums, his grip tightening slightly. “Never said I could. But you and I both know you need someone to keep you in line.”

You turn in his hold, glaring up at him. “In line? Simon, it’s a fucking party, not a crime.”

“It is if you’re neglectin’ responsibilities,” he counters, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. “Smart girl like you—should know better.”

Your face burns, a mix of frustration and something else you don’t want to admit. It’s the way he says it, like he knows you better than you know yourself.

And fuck, maybe he does.

Still, you huff, arms crossing tighter. “You’re so fucking—”

He cuts you off by gripping your chin, thumb pressing into your jaw just enough to make your lips part.

“Careful,” he warns. “You’re already on thin ice.”

Your breath catches, and for a second, the room is too quiet, tension thick enough to drown in. He’s looking at you like he’s waiting—for what, you don’t know. For you to keep pushing? To back down.

You stare back defiantly.

Simon sighs through his nose. “Right,” he mutters, before lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

“Simon—!”

He’s already carrying you across the room, not even breaking a sweat. He sits back in his desk chair, settling you on his lap like it’s nothing. His arms cage around you, one strong arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand reaches for your laptop.

“You’re gonna sit here,” he says, placing the laptop in front of you. “You’re gonna finish that coursework. And I’m gonna make sure you do.”

You squirm, pouting, but his grip is firm. “This is ridiculous—”

“What’s ridiculous is you throwin’ a fit over doin’ what you’re supposed to,” he counters, resting his chin against your shoulder. “So go on, princess—get to work.”

You let out a frustrated breath, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

His hand slides up your thigh, thumb brushing against the inside, and your body tenses.

You shift. “Simon.”

He hums, nonchalant. “Somethin’ wrong?”

You glare at him over your shoulder. “You’re distracting me.”

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Oh, am I?”

“Yes,” you snap, trying to ignore the way his hand is still moving, slow and lazy, fingertips tracing soft patterns into your skin.

“Guess you better focus, then,” he murmurs.

You clench your jaw. You hate how smug he sounds. You hate that he’s right.

But more than anything? You hate that it’s working.

Because Simon knows exactly what he’s doing. Knows that keeping you here, this close, while acting like he’s totally unbothered will make you cave faster than anything else.

You exhale sharply, forcing your attention back to the screen. Fine. Fine. You’ll do the stupid work.

For a while, you manage. You actually get through half a page without much issue—except for the fact that Simon still hasn’t moved his hand. He’s not doing anything, just resting it there, fingertips occasionally twitching, teasing.

It’s infuriating.

“You’re an asshole,” you mutter.

Simon chuckles against your shoulder, pressing a slow kiss there. “Maybe.”

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he makes it worse—soft lips tracing your skin, warm breath fanning over your neck, his thumb rubbing small circles into your thigh.

“Better finish fast,” he murmurs. “’Cause the second you do, I’m gonna have my fun.”

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard.

He smirks, sensing your hesitation. “What’s wrong, love? Thought you wanted to go out?”

You swallow, trying not to shudder under his touch. “Simon.”

“Mm?” He nips at your ear, voice deep and syrupy.

You inhale sharply. “You’re the worst.”

“And you love me for it.”

You hate that he’s right. Again.

But for once, you don’t argue. You just lower your head, trying to refocus, trying desperately to finish this damn assignment before you completely lose your mind.

It takes longer than it should, because he keeps up his game the entire time, letting his hands wander just enough to make you flustered but not enough to actually let you give in.

It’s pure torture.

But the second you type out the final word, shutting the laptop with a triumphant click, Simon hums approvingly, fingers finally pressing down into your skin.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low, dark, promising.

Your breath stutters.

And then?

Well.

Simon makes damn sure you don’t regret staying in.

[honey-pages]

Quick and Quiet - Viktor x Reader

Description -

Quick public sex in a spare room in the lab, possessive Viktor.

1.1k words

F/M. 18+. Smut. NSFW. Dom Viktor. Posessive. Dirty Talk. Creampie.

It was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, the lab and research centre full swing. You and Viktor had been overseeing some minor work that needed doing but nothing too pressing. It was a regular day, people busying past with arms loaded with paper work, inattentive to the growing sexual tension between the two of you. 

You knew that when you got back to his study, things would unfold. You decide to tease him, its only fair that he has to be just as frustrated as you are. You spot an empty room off to the side of one of the main corridors, and nudge him towards the door as you approach.

Viktor looks at you strangely, questioning what you are doing, before catching on.

He chuckles subtly, “Oh really?”

He pushes the door open with his hand and you both quickly step inside, closing it behind you and manoeuvring out of view. He pins you to the wall, his arms on either side of your head. He leans down to kiss you, moving backwards at the last second to make you kiss at the open air.

“Desperate” He mocks, this time allowing the kiss. 

“Maybe I just want you Vik” You smile up at him

“Right here?”

“Right here”

Viktor’s hand trails down the side of your body, feeling you, weighing up the consequences of getting caught. He stops over your waist, lowering to grope at your underwear through your clothes. He presses at your clit, applying just the right amount to have you reactively grinding at his hand.

“You want me to fuck you here, where anyone could hear us?”

You respond by pulling him back into a kiss. Viktor breaks it, turning you around and pinning your hips to a table. You were only just out of view of the door, too close.

“Quietly”, Viktor purred in your ear. 

“People will see Vik-“

“They’ll hear first”

You feel the length of him rest at the side of your thigh. He presses himself to the back of you. He holds one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the table he has you pressed against. 

“You say the words, and I stop. Though I can guarantee someone else will hear them first”

“Don’t stop-“

He muffles your mouth with his hand, having heard all he needed. He bends you at the waist, positioning you over the table. Viktor keeps his mouth at your neck, faintly whispering to you, almost inaudible, breathy.

“Keep quiet and take it.”

Viktor slides your trousers down your thighs, allowing them to pool around your knees. He works his fingers under the hem of your underwear, pulling them down. You feel exposed, realising your nakedness and proximity to the door. If someone would look through, you would not be hidden fully. It would be obvious at first sight. They would know exactly what you and Viktor were doing. 

He unzips and manages his trousers and underwear down to his mid thigh. There is a growing warmth as you feel his cock rest against you. He grinds it on you slowly, reminding you of the familiar length and feel. The heat of him in the cold room makes you more aware of the warmth of yourself and how when you shift your weight, you could feel the wetness slide between your thighs. 

“I didn’t realise you so publicly wanted to be my whore, (Y/N)”

You grind back, his cock pressing against you, a little higher and he may just push in. He lines himself up.

“So eager” He nibbles at your ear, the hand covering your mouth spreading to insert a finger between your lips and against your tongue. 

You swirl your tongue over the tip and he grinds forward, thrusting into you to the middle of his length. You moan against his palm.

There are footsteps from outside as people walk further down the corridor, it feels too good to care.

Viktor slowly thrusts in and out of you, though not deeply. You are completely aware of how deep he usually is, how he normally fills you. You groan in frustration, trying to push back, to make him fill you.

He stops moving, you feel his grin against your skin, his teeth against your neck

“If I knew it was this easy to take you, I would have done this years ago. All it takes is a little bit of danger, and listen to the sound you make”

Viktor pulls all the way out, and pushes all the way in, creating a wet slapping sound. You body is betraying you, dripping wetness down your thigh. Viktor removes his hand from your mouth and you make a silent promise to not give away your location. 

His hand replaces at the back of your neck and he pushes you gently down to the table, bent completely over it. He grips at your waist. His thrusts become more rhythmic, the sounds of the two of you become repetitive and he finds a comfortable pace. 

“You feel amazing, (Y/N). This is mine, you understand?”

“Yes, Vik-“ You respond, trying to keep a grip on your sound level.

He is speeding up, the noise must be audible to the outside. He is panting and whimpering, grabbing at the sides of you.

"Mine?”

“Yours”

“You belong-“ He starts, losing himself in the pleasure “-to me”

“Viktor-“

“Shh-“

You feel wetter than previously. The table was rough and sharp at your waist but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything, you looked around to the door window - no one was there. Would you really have cared if they were? If they watched the way Viktor fucked you?

Your hands are holding onto the far side of the table, fingers white from the force of his thrusts. He buries a hand in your hair, pulling back your neck, forcing your head upwards, tilting to watch him over your shoulder. 

“You’re mine.” He mumbles as he fucks hard and fast.

“They’ll hear-“ You try to protest, a blush rising.

“Then they’ll hear me cum in you” 

His hips are wild, he’s filling you deeply. He is slowing slightly, becoming more powerful in each swing. You feel him twitch and he begins to unravel.

“You’re-“ He manages, louder than he should have.

On his next thrust, you feel him filling you with thick cum, still grinding and pushing between spasms. He maintains his rhythm, coating the whole length of your insides, fucking it into you. 

“Im yours Viktor” You finish his sentence, barely able to string it together.

The footsteps return, closer, faster. 

You both look wide-eyed pulling up your clothes and fixing your appearances, damp with a sheen of sweat and a manic look. The gravity of what you just did has struck. Viktor is still catching his breath. You feel the mess he has made begin to seep into the fabric of your underwear. 

You both make a quick exit, red faced, heading straight for Viktor’s study.

Tag List - @veru-boom, @gubkkki, @hi-hope-hop-in, @gloriousevolutionz.

[cherryxbooo]

Yeah, I’m the lucky one

Summary: Hiding it when you're sick from your boyfriend is one thing, but hiding it from your clingy boyfriend is a whole other challenge.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff

The paddock is alive with energy, buzzing with anticipation, the sound of engines roaring in the distance, and the hum of the crowd outside.

Lando is in his element, calm yet radiating an excitement that’s palpable.

The focus in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and it’s clear that today matters more to him than most.

The weight of the race, the pressure of the expectations, and the fire in his heart are all simmering beneath the surface.

It's a mix of raw determination and adrenaline, and it brings out the best in him.

But me? Well, I feel the complete opposite.

I woke up feeling off, my head pounding and my body aching with a fever I couldn't shake.

I knew I should stay in bed, but I couldn’t. Not today.

Not with everything he’s worked for. I couldn’t let something as trivial as being sick get in the way of him having the best race of his career.

He’s been talking about this day for weeks, getting ready for it with an intensity that I’ve only seen in the world of motorsport.

But as I made my way through the paddock, trying my best to act normal, I felt the weight of my own discomfort pulling me down.

I’ve been silently counting the minutes until I can just crawl into a quiet corner and hide.

But the last thing I want is for him to see me like this. He’d immediately worry, go into panic mode, and lose focus.

Lando, with his big heart, would put everything aside just to take care of me, and I don’t want to do that to him.

Not today. Today is about him.

As I stand next to his family, making small talk with his friends, I feel dizzy.

The lights are a little too bright, and the sounds a little too loud.

I try to steady myself, offering a weak smile whenever someone glances my way, but the effort feels exhausting.

Lando’s mum catches my eye, and for a brief moment, I see a flicker of concern in her expression.

But she doesn’t say anything, just gives me a warm, reassuring smile. I’m grateful, but I can tell she knows something’s off.

Then, out of nowhere, I feel a familiar hand on my back. A small shiver runs down my spine as I turn to face Lando, and I instantly feel a warmth spread through me, despite the fever still creeping in.

“Hey baby, you okay?” His voice is soft, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes, like he’s always aware of everything around him, especially me.

I don’t want to worry him. I can’t.

So I give him a smile that’s more practiced than I’d like to admit,

“Yeah, just a little tired. Big day, huh?”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

He studies me for a second, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual, his hand gently squeezing my back.

The touch is warm, comforting. “You sure? You don’t look so great.”

“I’m fine,” I assure him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You focus on the race. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

Lando hesitates, his lips pressed into a thin line as if trying to gauge if I’m really okay.

But then he nods slowly, though his concern doesn’t quite vanish.

“Alright… but if you need anything, you let me know, okay?”

His voice is almost a whisper, like he’s trying not to give away just how much he cares.

“I will,” I promise, trying to keep my tone light and convincing.

But as he walks away to prepare for the race, a sense of loneliness settles over me.

The noise around me feels overwhelming, and the crowd only amplifies the ache in my head.

I find a quiet corner, away from the chaos, hoping to just breathe for a moment.

I didn't realize that I had been hiding away for a while already.

But before I know it, Lando’s voice cuts through the distance.

“You’ve been hiding from me.”

I turn to see him standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His presence alone seems to calm the storm inside me.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I protest weakly, though my voice cracks just slightly.

“Just… taking a break.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Taking a break from what? From me?”

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin.

I close my eyes for a second, leaning into the touch, even though I feel like I might collapse at any moment.

“From the chaos of the paddock,” I admitted softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softens, the teasing in his eyes fading. He steps in closer, his body brushing against mine as he gently cups my face with both hands, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Hey…” His voice is tender now, a deep, comforting lull.

“Are you really feeling okay love?"

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat suddenly unbearable.

“Yes, don't worry Lan. I'm fine.”

I whisper, my voice slightly breaking as I fight the urge to lean on him completely.

I stare up at him, feeling a mix of love and pain.

I don’t want to be the one who holds him back, but I can’t deny how much I crave the support and warmth he gives me without even thinking.

Lando lowers his hands, but not without giving me one last comforting touch, his fingers brushing my wrist.

“You need to rest,” he says firmly, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind his words now.

“I’m not going to let you make it through today without me taking care of you at least once.”

I laugh softly, despite the dizziness still swirling in my head.

“I’m fine, Lando. You go be amazing out there.”

He looks at me, his eyes soft but filled with determination. “I will be. But only because you’re here.”

Before I can say anything else, he leans in, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll make sure to get at least P3 for you.”

And with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of engineers and teammates.

But the moment he’s out of sight, I feel my energy drain completely.

Regardless of how I felt I still made my way to the rest so I could support Lando and be there for him.

Everywhere I look, there’s movement, excitement, and a sense of urgency.

Lando’s already suited up and surrounded by his team, getting ready to focus on the race that could mean everything for his career.

I’m supposed to be the one cheering him on, being his support, his calm, but instead, all I can do is try to survive the overwhelming wave of heat coursing through me.

Every few seconds, my head spins, my chest feels like it's on fire, and the nausea rolls in like a tide.

It’s getting harder to keep it together, but I’m trying. I can’t let anything distract him.

I can't make this his problem today, not when he’s been working so hard for this moment.

I take a seat next to Max and Pietra, hoping the three of us can keep the mood light and give Lando a little peace before he heads into the race.

I force myself to laugh at Max's joke about the weather, but it comes out more like a wheeze.

My throat feels like it’s coated in something dry and scratchy, and each breath feels like I’m not getting enough air.

Max doesn’t notice, but Pietra does.

She’s always been that way, observant, kind, and so very perceptive.

I’ve always admired how in tune she is with people.

She shifts in her seat beside me, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face.

“You okay, Y/n?” she asks gently, her voice laced with concern.

“You look a little pale.”

I immediately try to put on a smile, but it feels like the most exhausting thing I’ve done all day.

“I’m fine, really,” I say, hoping I can convince her.

“Just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Pietra doesn’t buy it, not even for a second.

She leans in closer, her gaze steady as she inspects my face, my trembling hands.

“You sure?” she presses, her brow furrowing.

“You don’t look fine. Maybe you should lay down for a bit?”

The room suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me.

The dizziness that had been simmering beneath the surface is starting to take hold, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes focused on her.

I swallow hard, trying to push the wave of nausea down, but it’s impossible to ignore now.

I nod weakly, doing my best to stay composed.

“I’m okay, Pietra. Just... a little dizzy. I think I’ll sit down for a moment.”

Max, still glued to his phone, glances up briefly, probably sensing the shift in the air.

His eyes scan me quickly before he leans closer to Pietra, muttering something under his breath, probably about how pale I look.

I’m about to wave it off, to reassure them both that it’s nothing, when Pietra’s soft hand touches my shoulder.

It’s warm and grounding, her touch gentle but insistent.

“No, you’re not okay, Y/n,” she says firmly.

“You’re not fooling me. You need to go back to the hotel and rest. Max and I will handle everything here. Don’t worry about Lando. He’ll understand. He doesn’t need to know right now, and you’re not helping him by pretending you’re fine.”

My heart clenches at her words. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to make him worry.

He’s about to race, about to compete for something so important to him.

The last thing I want is to make this about me. But Pietra’s expression leaves no room for argument.

Her hand squeezes my shoulder, and I feel a wave of guilt hit me hard.

“I... I can’t just leave,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“I don’t want him to—”

“Y/n,” Pietra interrupts, her voice soft but full of authority.

“Lando will be fine. He’ll be more upset if you stay here, pretending to be okay when you’re not. Let us take care of everything. He doesn’t need the distraction. He needs you to get better, not to keep pretending.”

I shake my head, still fighting it. “But he’s going to think I don’t care.”

“He knows you care. You don’t have to prove it by running yourself into the ground,” she says, her tone firm yet reassuring.

“You need to listen to your body. Max and I can make sure everything’s fine here.”

I hesitate for a moment, my vision swimming in and out of focus, and then I feel it, the dizziness getting worse.

My stomach turns violently, and I barely suppress a gasp. Before I can protest, Pietra’s up and at my side, helping me stand.

“Max,” she calls out to him, her voice tinged with urgency.

Max looks up from his phone, his attention now fully on us. He doesn’t need to ask questions.

Without a word, he stands, motions to security, and gestures for them to clear a path.

“We’re getting you back to the hotel,” Max says, his voice gentle but decisive.

“No arguments.”

I open my mouth to protest, to tell them I’m fine, but the dizziness overtakes me again.

I feel my legs wobble, my knees threatening to give way beneath me. The nausea is so strong now that I can’t hold it back any longer.

My head feels like it’s filled with cotton, and my heart races as I fight to keep everything together.

“Okay,” I whisper, too weak to resist any longer. “Okay, let’s go.”

Max’s arm wraps around my shoulder, steadying me as Pietra follows closely behind.

I glance over my shoulder at the paddock, seeing the hustle and bustle of the team preparing for the race.

And even though I want nothing more than to stay and support Lando, I know Pietra’s right, he doesn’t need to see me like this.

As we make our way out of the paddock, past the busy crew and excited fans, the world seems to blur again.

All I can think about is Lando, how much he’s worked for this, and how much I wish I could be there cheering him on.

But right now, all I can do is focus on getting back to the hotel and trying to heal.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Pietra murmurs, sensing my anxiety.

“Lando will understand. We’ll make sure he stays focused.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back, squeezing her hand.

Max looks over at me, offering a reassuring smile.

“No problem, Y/n. We’ve got you.”

And as they guide me toward the exit, the sound of the engines roaring to life in the distance feels far away, almost like a distant memory.

All I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that, by the time Lando crosses the finish line, I’ll be okay.

Meanwhile,

The race was intense, there was no other way to describe it.

Lando’s heart was pounding, his breath coming in quick bursts as he fought to stay focused on the track ahead.

Each corner, each straightaway felt like it mattered more than the last.

The roar of the engine under him, the vibration in his hands as he gripped the wheel,it was like the world was screaming at him to push harder, to get everything he had into every lap.

And he did.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, the world outside of his car becoming a blur of colors and sounds.

But amidst the chaos, there was something else tugging at his mind, something he couldn’t quite shake.

Just before the race started, he had caught sight of Y/n sitting among their friends, looking beautiful as always, but something was... off.

Maybe it was the way she had looked at him, her tired eyes betraying a sense of exhaustion that didn’t quite match the energy of the day.

Or how quiet she seemed, like a flicker of something hidden behind her usual smile. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but something wasn’t right.

But there was no time for that.

He pushed those thoughts away, focusing back on the race, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the track with everything he had.

He couldn’t afford to think about anything but the next corner, the next lap, the next move.

And when he crossed the finish line, the elation of victory should’ve been enough to make everything feel perfect.

After all, he had gotten P2.

The cheers, the confetti, the roar of the crowd, it was everything he’d been working for, everything he’d dreamed of.

But in the midst of it all, he couldn’t shake the nagging thought of Y/n.

His gaze searched the area, instinctively looking for her.

He was surrounded by teammates, sponsors, friends, but all he wanted in that moment was to see her smile, to know she was okay.

He scanned the area again, but she wasn’t there.

Not where he had left her. His stomach tightened, his mind racing. Something wasn’t right.

Lando quickly moved through the crowd, dodging everyone on his way, his eyes darting between faces, searching for any sign of her.

He was so focused on finding her, he almost didn’t see Max and Pietra standing off to the side.

When he finally noticed them, his heart skipped a beat. You weren't there.

Lando’s pace quickened as he approached them, his voice betraying the worry he couldn’t hide.

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, his words coming out sharper than he intended.

Pietra exchanged a glance with Max before she sighed, the look on her face telling Lando everything he needed to know.

"She wasn’t feeling well," she said softly, her eyes clouded with concern.

"We had to send her back to the hotel."

Lando’s chest tightened, a heavy weight settling over him.

His pulse quickened, the sudden rush of guilt and worry clouding his thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice rising slightly, not in anger, but in genuine confusion.

Max stepped forward, his expression calm but serious.

"Mate she didn’t want to distract you. She said it was important not to take your focus away from the race."

Lando’s mind was spinning now, the elation of his victory evaporating as quickly as it had come.

Guilt was flooding him, he couldn’t believe Y/n had been struggling, that she’d hidden it from him.

She’d always been there for him, supportive, understanding, even when he was caught up in his own world.

And now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let her down.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the weight of the situation was suffocating.

He didn’t know what to say.

All he could think about was how she had been sitting there, probably feeling miserable, and he hadn’t even noticed.

The race, his career, all of it felt so insignificant compared to the thought of Y/n being alone and sick.

“Why didn’t she just tell me? I would’ve understood. I could’ve—”

Pietra stepped forward, her hand gently resting on his arm, grounding him in the moment.

“Lando, she didn’t want you to worry. She knew how much today meant to you. She didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Max nodded in agreement.

“She’s always there for you. But she’s not the type to let herself be a distraction, not when you’re in the zone like that. You know how she is, she cares about you more than anything, but she didn’t want to pull you away from your focus.”

Lando let out a long breath, feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on his chest.

“I should’ve noticed,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"I should’ve been paying more attention."

"You’re not a mind reader, Lando," Pietra said, her voice calm but firm.

Lando realized that she was right.

He quickly greeted the rest of his family and did some other duties before changing and heading back to the hotel.

Lando arrived at the hotel room, his body still buzzing from the race, but his mind consumed by a different kind of worry.

As soon as he entered, the first thing he did was quietly close the door behind him.

The soft hum of the air conditioning and the dim light from the lamps were the only sounds in the room.

His eyes immediately fell on your figure, still asleep, your peaceful face glowing softly under the sheets.

The sight of you, so vulnerable yet so beautiful, made his heart ache with both affection and guilt.

He quietly pulled a chair from the small desk and sat down beside the bed, never taking his eyes off you.

He wanted to be close to his girl, but he didn’t want to wake you.

He knew you needed rest, but the worry of the day, the worry about you, hadn’t let up.

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face.

His fingers lingered there for a second before he let out a soft breath, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow on his knee.

He could almost hear the questions running through his mind, wondering why you hadn’t told him what you had been feeling.

He could feel the weight of your absence, the quiet ache in his chest from not knowing exactly what had been going on with you.

The minutes seemed to stretch on, each tick of the clock amplifying his thoughts.

He hated this uncertainty, this feeling that something had been left unsaid.

Then, after what felt like forever, a soft groan escaped from your lips, and Lando’s attention snapped to her immediately.

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light in the room.

Your gaze slowly focused on him, confusion settling on her face as she took in her surroundings.

Lando watched her with a mix of relief and concern, his heart lightening at the sight of you waking up but still heavy with the questions that lingered in his mind.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Lando said softly, his voice full of warmth and affection.

My vision cleared, and I smiled sleepily at him.

Lando’s heart squeezed.

"You’re awake. I’ve been here waiting for you to wake up for, like, ages now." He chuckled softly, though his eyes were still filled with concern.

"But seriously… why didn’t you tell me?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing on me.

My hand reached for his, finding his fingers weakly, and I squeezed them, my fingers trembling a bit.

"I didn’t want to be a burden," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn’t want to ruin your day or take away from the race. It was important to you. I just… I didn’t want to distract you."

Lando smiled at me softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.

"You’re never a burden, Y/n." He looked at me with such sincerity, it made my heart ache in the best way.

"You are always my priority, okay? Not the race, not the fans, not the win. You. Always."

I felt my heart flutter at his words, my eyes softening as I looked back at him.

The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill, and I could feel them welling up.

Being sick just makes people extra emotional, give it a break yeah?

"I’m sorry," I murmured, my voice breaking slightly.

Lando shook his head, his heart aching.

He leaned closer, cupping my cheek gently, his thumb brushing over my skin.

"You don’t have to apologize," he whispered.

"You never have to hide anything from me, especially not when it comes to you."

I felt the weight of his words, the tenderness in his touch, and I wanted so badly to just melt into him.

I was so grateful for him, for the way he always made me feel safe, loved, and heard.

Lando sat beside me on the bed, leaning back just enough to grab the water and medicine he’d set out earlier.

"You need to drink this," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

"Get some rest, and I’ll be right here with you. Just take it easy."

I hesitated for a moment, but then reached for the glass of water he held out to me.

My fingers were still shaking slightly, but I took it from him gratefully.

There was a small, tired smile on my lips as I drank, and Lando’s eyes never left me.

He was watching me closely, making sure I was okay. It felt nice to be looked after this way.

After I finished the water, Lando sat back down next to me again, his hand finding mine once more.

"You don’t ever have to hide something like that from me, okay?" he said, his voice soft but serious.

"If something’s wrong, you have to tell me. Promise me you’ll tell me next time."

I looked up at him, my eyes full of emotion, and I nodded slowly.

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over, and I felt a few of them slide down my cheeks.

Before I could say anything, Lando quickly wiped them away with his thumb, his touch light, tender.

"I’m sorry," I whispered again, my voice barely audible.

He slightly laughed, "You're such a crybaby when you're sick babe."

Lando leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice full of love and affection.

"I love you, baby. I love you, and that’s all that matters." His voice was quiet but strong, filled with reassurance.

I pulled him closer, resting my head against his chest, letting out a small, exaggerated sigh.

"Mmm, this is the best pillow ever," I mumbled, half-laughing, half-groaning in exhaustion.

Lando wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tighter.

His chin rested on top of my head, and he chuckled softly.

"You come first," he said with a mock-serious tone, trying to sound all deep and dramatic.

"Always."

I snuggled in a little closer, feeling his warmth.

"Oh, I know now," I said, glancing up at him with a grin.

"You’re basically my personal butler, aren’t you? Always there when I need you."

He let out a dramatic gasp. "But of course! My whole existence is to serve you, my queen."

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a laugh.

"Thank you for being here," I said, the words half-sweet, half-teasing.

Lando smirked, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"Please don't cry again... and well yeah, where else would I be? I’m not going anywhere."

Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added,

"Besides, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. You know that, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, feeling him grin against the top of my head.

"Oh, I know," I said, playfully tapping his chest.

"You're my big soft marshmallow. I practically own you."

Lando chuckled, his arms tightening around me. "You absolutely do. And you’re not even sorry about it."

I smirked, rolling my eyes. "Well, I am your number one priority, aren’t I?"

His eyes sparkled with affection, and he pulled me a little closer.

"You’re my number one everything, Y/n. No competition."

I snorted, unable to help the grin that spread across my face.

"Good. Glad we’re clear on that."

As we sat there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside felt miles away.

All that mattered was us, his heartbeat, my tired sighs, and the way we fit together like we’d always been meant to.

For a moment, everything else faded, and all I could think was: Yeah, I’m the lucky one.

The end

[lolitalovess]

loser vi who needs you as motivation when she's studying for her finals!!

warnings: fingering, praise, reader is very kind, reader is the best supportive gf, vi is a loser, vi is lowk dumb in this i'm so sorry, i think that's it

vi was laying on her side, her eyes boring into the bright screen of her laptop while she messily wrote seemingly important words and sentences into her book, her hand beginning to cramp from the repeated motions. you were laying behind her, propped up on your elbow with her ass tucked against your lower abdomen. you could see past her shoulder enough to see what she was reading and writing about, occasionally moving forward to kiss the reddish pink hair on the top of her head every time you notice her write something important down.

you know your girlfriend is smart, in many aspects you wouldn't expect. she's good at maths and writes phenomenal essays for english- a very interpersonally and emotionally intelligent person in ways you've never been able to find within someone else.

but she's never been good at foreign language in any aspect whatsoever.

"baby, 's too much." she whines, her back arching away from your torso when you curl your fingers inside her. her boxers were discarded awhile ago, since she opened her laptop and told you that it was too hard for her to remember all of the syllabus in hiragana (me too). you don't even know why she chose this as one of her electives, especially when you tried to talk her out of it at the beginning of the year. you're starting to think she only chose it for this.

"read back through your notes. i watched you write it down earlier." you murmur into her soft hair, watching as she dropped her pen onto her mattress to begin flipping through the past her pages of her book at just the same speed of someone who's slightly panicked, bored, and wants an orgasm.

your fingers are pumping in and out of her at a relatively slow pace, one that you knew had her as equally frustrated with her work. "there you go," you coo, moving your hand away from your face to brush some of her hair away from the crown of her head to kiss it, said hand reaching to pick up her discarded pen to underline what she was looking for in the middle of the page, the letters that just looked like small drawings to her.

the repeated sound of her pussy squelching like a whore from your fingers has never paused for one second on the past thirty minutes, and it's the same with her moans. her inner thighs and your shorts are coated with her cum and arousal from when she was doing good.

"uh," she started, her voice slightly hoarse but still whiny in a way that was so sexy you're sure you'd never tire of. "hiragana is a simplified form of kanji along with katakana. there are forty six curvy characters, contrary to the sharp corners katakana has." eighth grade level definition, but it was good enough. "it's the most commonly used and spoken alphabet used in japan." she added, resulting with your fingers pumping in and out of her at a much more rapid pace than before, earning a soft whimper and moan slipping past her lips.

"can i-" she began, only for you to cut her off. "you can." and from your permission, she's cumming around your fingers with a loud moan, practically burying her face into her pillow with her heart shaped lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as you finger fuck her though it, her crooked glasses falling onto the mattress.

"that's my good girl."