yourwon&only♡

Enhypen is, and will always be sevEN...

[yeokii]

⠀⠀HARDLY EVER SMILE ' part two

⠀ ❤︎ ' you like him no matter how mean he is to you

𝗖𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦 ? . . meanie!seung─── ✿ 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗎 . 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 profanity redemption arc lwk drytexts jealous hee ' ❤︎ ( 𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 ) ♱ part one here ! 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽 . 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗓𝗂𝗇𝖾

여키 EDITION . back from da dead js for u

⠀⠀𝖺 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗂 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽. do not copy, repost or translate my works

[unknowacczzz]

All my favorite authors haven't been active for months now

[yeokii]

⠀⠀HARDLY EVER SMILE ' without you

⠀ ❤︎ ' you like him no matter how mean he is to you

𝗖𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦 ? . . meanie!seung─── ✿ 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗎 . 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 profanity stalking ( not by hee ) drinking weed drytexts ' ❤︎ ( 𝖽𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 ) ♱ part two here ! 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽 . 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗓𝗂𝗇𝖾

여키 EDITION . diff post because i always make him a yearner

⠀⠀𝖺 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗂 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽. do not copy, repost or translate my works

[yeokii]

perm three. @wonniiz @nanaminal @tasnim255 @sosaphiee @nainai112 @hanjisdoll @samsung-67 @wonipilled @meikstv @alliiure @sameeraenha7 @luxynjun @swaghmura @astrohypen @jay-j4y @blossomsunoo @kluvswon @ppopingpprcs @softieluvsyou @lizzysww @goatedwiththesaucedotcom @sunnysidesins @taesansnovia @wonsitosworld @reinourheart @jinniezret @minni-mina @yjwswhilom @jellyyjn @aengelicalangel @larusi @heeluv4ever @mimleno @amivine @jakeaddicted@tacomugi @jungwonnieluvvyy @nemonemoz @aspinny @kaiiii1009 @evancauseheeseungleft @heekatzz @lotusglowii @marianette-21 @sstrawbxrry @hoonsonenonly @sacrificemuraa @nomnomnamjoonn @simjaeyunlvrclub @apriglw @iluvjiwoong @draftsanddraftss @lilllslayswanderwoodsan @hrts4pepsi

[jungwonssqueezefruit]

ENHYPEN REACTS

:: to you accidentally sending a suggestive picture (ᗒᗩᗕ) ot7

liv yap: first post !! i know it looks like shiii but i need to figure out all the knacks of this app first :)

[wonvelvet]

plsss face sitting / nose riding w heeee

magnetic ݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆

in which, heeseung wants u to sit on his face ִֶָ🪽་༘. MDNI

cw: oral (f.rec), face sitting, nose riding, overstimulation.

‘do you wanna ride it?’

you freeze mid-gesture, eyes rolling to the back of your head. ‘what the fuck? no! I’ll literally kill you’

you didn’t think complimenting your boyfriends absolute perfect of a nose would get you where you are now; half naked with only a shirt on, both legs caging each side of his head, and settled right on top of his face.

even though you were super nervous—not ready to suffocate and potentially end heeseung’s life, you eventually surrendered and agreed to grant his wish.

and heeseung? he couldn’t give less of a fuck if his heart stopped beating. he would gladly allow you to kill him if it meant he gets to die buried in the place he loves most: deep inside your hot cunt with your fluids dripping off of his chin.

however, heeseung was getting way too impatient, he needed you on top of him as soon as possible. and so, his fingers pressed deeper into your hips — definitely leaving a mark, and pulls you hard. the immediate touch of his warm tongue skimming against your entrance made you shiver.

his disgustingly sharp nose bumping against your sensitive clit was just the cherry on top. the overwhelming sensations caused your whole body to heat up in a mysterious sense of urgency.

but you had no where to go, not with heeseung’s hands keeping you still and spread. ‘wait- it’s- it’s too much’

heeseung curls his tongue further at your words, his lips sucking harder till he can’t help but let out a soft moan himself. the heavy knot in your lower stomach immediately snaps when heeseung pushes you further up till his nose grazes your aching entrance.

but he doesn’t stop there, no he doesn’t. in fact, he pulls you down harder, further burying himself till an uncontrollable amount of moans filled with a mix of pain and pleasure spill out of your mouth. his whole face entirely covered in your mess—a sticky, creamy, substance leaking across his mouth.

your own heart starts racing too. . . so loud that you're guaranteed that heeseung can hear it too. your poor chest is burning in overstimulation.

heeseung was painfully hard, he was almost certain he could cum untouched like this—it was like a weird twisted fucking demon had taken over him, he just couldn’t get enough of you.

and once you weakly cum for the nth time of the night, heeseung finally releases you from his hold. both of you heavily breathing while he lets out a couple of choked coughs.

‘oh my god, we should do that everyday!’ heeseung turns to look up at you, his soft, brown bambi eyes glistening with lust.

kiki’ thoughts: im so sick i also cba to proofread this so let’s all jus hope i was conscious enough when i wrote this .. :p

[ellisaworld]

Is this how a beach date will look like with him?

[soulenha]

Ribbons ✴︎ 박성훈

𑣲⋆ Park Sunghoon ❤︎ Fem!reader ✴︎ smut reader is obsessed with ribbons Sunghoon loves reader tying ribbons on him dom!Sunghoon.

💭 𓂃 𓈒𓏸  1539  ⋆˚࿔   ꒰  smut  ꒱ 💌 | Heeseung | Jay | Jake | Sunghoon | Sunoo | Jungwon | Riki |

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍 ✴︎ Your fantasy to tie a ribbon on your husband's cock, took you to him where he gave you the permission to do it, but also made the ribbon tied on him hit your nose every time you deepthroated him.

Warning : 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 : oral [m rec] ribbon tying on dick teasing blowjob deepthroating gagging cum eating rough sunghoon face fucking praises

🪷°      Haze' notes : Yall- don't judge me after reading this- I just love a rough hubby Sunghoon. Happy reading!!

You had always loved ribbons. They were the one thing you were completely obsessed with. Ribbons on your hair, on your wrist, on your dresses, and sometimes when you dress up like a doll for Sunghoon, you like wearing ribbons on your neck too.

You have had that obsession since you were little. Finding them incredibly fascinating. In your eyes, ribbons could be transformed into anything you like. Ties, bows, laces, ropes, and so many more things.

So when you started dating Sunghoon, it was no secret that you loved ribbons. Your entire apartment was decorated with them. Sunghoon loved them of course. Finding them to be uniquely you. And after the both of you got married a year ago, his house was now transformed and decorated with ribbons everywhere.

What you loved the most about ribbons was how you could tie them up on Sunghoon's biceps. It had been a little fantasy of yours that came to light a few months after you both had started dating. When you shyly asked him if he would let you tie ribbons on his bicep.

Sunghoon was delighted with the idea, having no problem with it. Since that day, it had become a little ritual between the two of you. But at times, your mind wandered to images of how his cock would look like with a soft pink ribbon.

About how it would feel when you would deepthroat him. Your nose rubbing against your own ribbon which you tied on him. Your ribbon. Your mark. “Hoon?” You slowly open the door to his study, peeking your head inside to look at him.

He was working on his laptop, eyebrows frowned with focus. He was wearing a simple black tee with gray pants, your favourite combination on him. “Hmm?” He didn't look up from the screen, fingers flying on the keyboard as he replied to you.

“Can you.. take a rest for a while?” You slowly walked in, shutting the door behind you gently to not disturb the peace of the room. “Doll, I have to finish this ‘mkay?” He gave you a quick smile, his eyes darting to the small link ribbon bows on your hair. “You look pretty.”

The compliment bloomed warmth inside you but the husk in his voice shot pleasure straight to your core. You slightly squirm on the spot before walking beside his desk, placing your hand on top of his on the keyboard to stop him from typing.

“Please hoon? I miss you..” You pout, your fingers curling in his. You knew he could never deny when you plead with him, always giving into your cuteness. “I want to tie a ribbon on your cock..” As soon as those words left your lips, your husband choked on air uncontrollably. “What?!”

“Doll you can't say things like that if you won't follow through.”

“Who says I won't? I really want to..” You felt Sunghoon freeze under your touch, his breath hitched. He looked up to read your face, making sure you weren't joking and actually wanted to do it. “Ok.. do it.” You squeak and hug him tightly, murmuring quick thank yous before you push his desk chair back slightly so you get enough space to kneel before him.

Sunghoon's fingers tightened on the hand of the chair, his heart pounding. He had dreamt of this for so long, wondering how you would look with his cock deep in your mouth. Your lips parted to their maximum at his size and your nose nuzzling with the base of his shaft, where your ribbon would reside.

“Baby lift your hips,” You squeak excitedly, your hands trembling with pure joy as you pull the pink ribbon from your back pocket and tug his pants down till it hits the floor. Your mouth watered at the sight of his bulge. “May I?” You whisper, not taking your eyes off his bulge. With a single hum from him, you pull his boxers down enough so his cock springs out.

You gasp looking at its size. He was honestly very big and that at times has left you feeling extremely nervous about taking him. But he has trained you enough so you could wrap your mouth around him without choking. You gently play with the base of his skin, feeling it twitch by your touch.

“Are you excited, hoon?” You smile eerily, looking up to meet his eyes. He groaned at the view in front of him. You are on your knees, between his thighs with his massive shaft right in your face. It was too much for him. “Yes, baby—” You chuckle and bring the ribbon forward to play with his cock, rubbing it at the base. He let out a low groan, throwing his head back.

His eyes squeezed shut as his cock twitched at the touch and friction of your ribbon. “Fuck—you are so cute—” You giggle playfully and press a teasing kiss on the tip, tasting the salty precum. His hands twitched to grab your head, force your mouth open and just shove his cock down your throat but held back so you could do what you wanted to do.

You wrap the silk around the base of his shaft, lining it up perfectly as you tied the ribbon into a bow. Wrapping your fingers around his cock while teasing him with light brushes of your fingertips. “Baby, stop teasin’” You hear Sunghoon hiss, his hips jerking into your face.

“I’m just making this bow look pretty~ Look hubby,” He simply didn’t care anymore. He had his angry cock right in your face, red and throbbing while all you thought about was the bow? “Open your mouth.” The low vibration from his voice sent electricity straight down your core, making you squirm uncomfortably.

You obediently opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue just like how he likes it. You lick the base of his cock, his hands wrapping around the base of his dick, playing with your ribbon as he slaps it on your tongue. “Fuck, just like that—” You wrap your lips around the head, looking up to make eye contact with him. His face was flushed and needy, pupils blown out with his thick eyebrow frowned.

You smile and push deeper, hollowing your cheeks to suck him, your mouth already aching at the size. “Fuckk—you look s’ good baby.” You picked up your pace at his praises, your pussy already drenched with need. You place your hands on his thigh as you bob your head faster, swirling your tongue around this throbbing shaft, driving him insane.

Without warning, he grabbed your hair in his fist and started thrusting in your mouth, throwing his head back with deep grunts, chasing his pleasure. Your throat burned at the friction he was using you with, your eyes tearing up. But determined to please him, you take him even deeper, relaxing your throat until your nose nuzzled with the ribbon you had tied.

He picked up pace, using you like a plastic toy, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly while spewing praises towards you, a complete contrast to how his cock pistoned in and out of your warm mouth. You gagged around his length, gripping his thighs so you could be balanced while your own wetness leaked down your thigh.

“Fuc—honey ‘m close. Don’t you dare pull back,” Not like you could even if you wanted to. He had his hands on your hair, trapping you between his knees. Your eyes rolled to the back of your mind, saliva leaking down the corner of your lips as you tried to take breaths from your nose.

You felt him tense up under your fingertips, his moans getting louder and his movements getting sloppier. “Fuck—‘m comin’!” Before you could realize, his body tensed under your fingertips as he exploded inside your mouth. Hot spurts of cum filled your mouth as he kept pumping, pushing his release to the back of your throat as you gag violently around him.

Few drops escaped your mouth, leaking from the side of your lips as he slumped back on the chair of his desk, pulling out his now softening cock out your mouth. “Such a good mouth.. Always ready to be filled” You swallowed it all down, your tears falling from the abuse your mouth just went through.

“My wife.. Come here, love.” He picked you up from the floor and placed you on his lap, wiping his cum off your lips with his thumb before he pushed it back in your mouth. “Don’t waste anythin’, you look so pretty being cock drunk, love..” You moan and clean his finger, his thumb leaving your mouth with a pop.

His cock rested on your stomach and you whimpered and leaned in to kiss him, “My wish is complete..” he smiled and kissed you back, his thighs flexing beneath you. “I’m glad, love.. I will always give in to your fantasies.” He gave you a wink, making you shy. “Now come on, I have to take care of my beautiful wife now, I need to make her watch as my cock enters her pussy, even the ribbon she tied.”

You were in for a longgg night.

🏷️Gen taglist : @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @en-injang @h-eva-n @rikisdiheater @heelvcr @heeddungi @boundlesselixirflux @kristynaaah @mybeloveddiary @daydreamer231 @en-muse @wonderikii @firstclassjaylee @rikisblog @nikisleftside @ttamna @hoonieslove @he-even [18/50]   ,   Join?

©Soulenha 2026 | All rights reserved.

[bywons]

TASTE 、 sjy

𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄， jake loves you too much to take his glasses off

❪ MAGAZINE ❫ nerd!sjy x f!r 1OOOwc MDNI fluff ✿ oral (f. rec) fingering ˘ ˘ ♡

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS PLS ><

“jake— are you seriously— with your glasses on?”

jake looks up at you from between your thighs and if you weren’t already undone, seeing his lips glisten and his chin damp would’ve done the trick. his glasses cling low to the bridge of his nose, the black frames fogging with his breath.

“what?” he grins, and you find it infuriatingly endearing. “i need to see what im doing.”

“theyre fogging up!”

you try to press a giggle back, jake is funny sometimes. “they’re fine.”

he lowers his head to your core and you forget your complaints when his tongue glides flat and heated over your folds, dipping neatly inside.

you fall back onto the bed, fingers tangling in jake’s hair as he makes a humming sound against you, the vibrations sends sparks up your spine.

jake is good at this, always has been, but tonight he’s showing off. his tongue traces slow circles around you before flicking at your opening and dragging up, seeking out the place where you need him most.

“oh”, you whine. “oh fuck.”

“the clitoris”, he says against you, pulling his head back enough to meet your gaze, eyes becoming glossy as if he wants something more. “did you know it has over eight thousand nerve endings? the most of any part of the human body.”

“jake.” you threaten, fingers finding his temple as he continues to suck gently on your clit, his other hand splayed over the juncture of your thigh and hip.

“its educational,” he teases.

you laugh, a high pitched giggle that turns into a moan when jake sucks your clit into his mouth. your hips buck upwards as he braces himself over you.

“you’re such a nerd,” you manage to say through your moans.

“you are dating a nerd,” he says against your skin. “you knew what you were getting into.”

jake eases two fingers into you as you groan, your head falling back. he uses the stretch of his fingers to find the place deep inside you that makes your whole body twitch. his fingers are long and beautifully angled, curling in just the right way to send another pulse of sensation through you.

“see?” he murmurs, his mouth pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “angles and vectors, all geometry.”

“shut up,” you gasp, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you try to catch your breath. “ah— jake!”

“the g-spot is actually part of the clitoral structure,” he says, his fingers sliding in and out as his mouth finds your core again. “it all connects.”

“jake, i swear—”

“did you know that the clitoris is shaped like a wishbone?” he asks, tracing slow patterns along you with his tongue, working you over from bottom to top. you forget what you were about to say when he begins rolling his tongue over your clit in fast, shallow strokes.

you are so close, already writhing, and jake knows it, he always knows it. he knows your body the way he knows his textbooks, every little sound and reaction to a chapter he memorizes with devotion.

“you’re gonna come for me, baby?”

jake asks, his voice thick with something between amusement and need as his tongue skates over your thigh. “on my face? are you really going to do it? let’s test it, shall we?”

“your— fuck, glasses—!”

“forget the glasses.”

they are completely fogged over now, all opaque. its absurd, really, the way his tongue flicks over you in short bursts while his fingers curl inside you, making you dizzy with need. you can barely focus on what he says next.

“take them off,” you whine, practically begging. “jake— ”

“cant, im too busy recalling the theory of..” he says, practically purring. you find yourself laughing and whimpering at the same time.

“that doesnt even— thats not how it—”

“maybe physics isnt my strongest subject.” jake sighs dramatically before his tongue licks insistently at your folds, his fingers pumping in and out at a steady pace. he manages to ignore the fog on his glasses long enough for you to climax, shuddering and whimpering his name as your thighs shake on either side of his head. jake hums against your skin.

“come on, baby,” he groans, voice rough. “let me taste it. let me have it.”

“ah— jake!”

“i’ve got you. i’ve got you.”

your orgasm rolls over you, until you are gasping your release into the air, your back arching violently. your fingers dig into jakes scalp, his hair splayed out on either side of your hips. jake licks at you determinedly until your whimpers die down, your body limp, exhausted.

you push his head away weakly.

jake grins, finally lifting himself off of you, his chin glistening. he peeks up at you, the lenses blurred with condensation.

“see?” he says, sliding them up his nose. “perfectly functional.”

“you can’t see a thing.” you scoff.

“i can see enough, princess.”

jake leans over you, his head hovering just above your torso as he peppering kisses all over your body. you taste yourself on his lips when his glasses press against your cheek, warm and fuzzy.

you lift his head by the back of his skull, kissing him thoroughly before sliding his glasses off his face.

“hey,” he whines, blinking up at you. his lashes cast shadows across his cheeks. jake’s face is softer without the frames.

“i was going for a look.” he mumbles softly.

you raise your eyebrows, “the look was clouded nerd who cant see.”

“hey, that’s a classic aesthetic!”

you laugh, pulling him down on top of you. jake melts against you, kissing your collarbone, his fingers finding the sensitive spot at the juncture of your thigh and hip.

“i could go again,” he murmurs, voice heavy with intent. “we could run another trial. for science.”

“for science,” you repeat, laughing when jake’s fingers push into you once more, coaxing another moan from your lips as his glasses sit on the nightstand, forgotten.

스루 ܃ first time uploading smut im so scared TT could be my last too idk. but i would LOVE some feedbacks / suggestions on it tho! will kiss u heh :3

[heevangell]

AFK - lhs

Pairing: Gamer!Heeseung × Reader

Genre: Roommates to Lovers, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: •18+/MDNI •Possessiveness •edging •cockwarming •Jealousy •unprotected sex

╭⁠☞Synopsis- Behind the cocky attitude and black hoodie is a secretly obsessed gamer who can’t focus the moment you’re in the room.

↝The boy who always goes AFK for you...

‎The apartment smelled like energy drinks, expensive cologne, and the faint metallic scent of overheating PCs. You stood in the doorway with your suitcase, staring at the chaos that was now going to be your home for the next few months.

‎Your best friend, Mina, had promised it would be fine.

‎“Heeseung barely leaves his room,” she had said. “He’s always streaming League or whatever. You’ll hardly notice him.”

‎He owned the entire apartment — three bedrooms, a massive living room turned into a gamer den, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. Mina had been renting one room for almost a year. When your dorm building had a pipe burst and flooded half the floor, she begged Heeseung to let you take the second spare room. He agreed… for an absurdly low price.

‎You just didn’t expect the owner to look like that.

‎Heeseung was leaning against the kitchen counter when you walked in, wearing an oversized black hoodie that somehow made his broad shoulders look even wider. The hood was up, silver hair peeking out messily. He was tall and annoyingly attractive. A half-empty Monster can sat beside him.

‎“Hey” he said, voice low and slightly bored. “You’re the new roommate?”

‎“Yeah. Thanks for letting me stay,” you replied, trying to sound polite.

‎He shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a smirk. “Don’t thank me yet. I stream until 4 a.m. most nights so good luck sleeping.”

‎Before you could respond, the front door opened again and three more guys piled in — Jake, Jungwon, and Sunghoon — loud, laughing, carrying takeout bags and controllers.

‎Jake spotted you first. His eyes lit up. “Damn. Mina didn’t say her best friend was this hot.”

‎Sunghoon gave you a once-over and smirked. Jungwon offered a shy but friendly smile.

‎You felt heat creep up your neck but forced a small smile. Heeseung’s gaze sharpened for a split second before he pushed off the counter.

‎“Living room’s mine for streaming,” he announced, already walking away. “Stay out of my setup and we’ll be good.”

‎Cocky.

‎Exactly the type you couldn’t stand.

‎The first week was quiet.

‎You kept to yourself. University classes in the morning, part-time job in the afternoon, and back to the apartment to study. Mina was barely home or hanging out with Sunghoon, leaving you alone with the boys most evenings.

‎Heeseung was always there.

‎Either locked in the biggest bedroom (which doubled as his streaming cave) or sprawled on the massive sectional in the living room with his friends, headset half-on, fingers flying over the keyboard and mouse as he carried ranked games in League of Legends.

‎He was good. Actually insane. You overheard his friends calling him “the best” more than once. Thousands of people watched him every night while he trash-talked opponents in that calm, deep voice.

‎But around the apartment? He was insufferable.

‎He’d walk around with his hood up even indoors, barely speaking to you unless it was to make some cocky comment.

‎“Studying again? Cute. Try not to fail while I’m out here making money playing games,” he’d say with that annoying half-smirk whenever he passed your open door.

‎You rolled your eyes every single time.

‎To cope, you started spending more time in the living room when the boys were over. At first you were quiet — just sitting on the far end of the couch with your laptop. But Jake was persistent.

‎“Yo, come closer. We don’t bite,” he grinned one night, patting the spot beside him.

‎You hesitated, but moved. Sunghoon offered you a drink. Jungwon asked about your classes. Slowly, you started talking more. Laughing at their jokes. Feeling… included.

‎Heeseung noticed.

‎His eyes would flick to you constantly from behind his monitors. When Jake threw an arm around your shoulders while laughing at a funny play, Heeseung’s jaw would tighten. When Sunghoon teased you about how pretty you looked after you came back from a night out, Heeseung’s fingers would pause on his keyboard for just a second too long.

‎But he never said anything directly.

‎Until the night you decided to push him.

‎It was a Friday.

Mina had gone out with Sunghoon on their first official date, leaving you alone with the boys. They were drinking — soju mixed with beer — celebrating Heeseung hitting a new peak rank.

‎You had one too many drinks yourself. The alcohol made you bold.

‎You sat right in the middle of them tonight, wearing a tight tank top and shorts. Jake was especially attentive, complimenting everything you said, making you laugh until your stomach hurt.

‎Heeseung was streaming but had the camera angled so only his setup showed.

‎You leaned into Jake’s side on purpose, letting him whisper something in your ear that made you giggle loudly.

‎From the corner of your eye, you saw Heeseung’s hand clench around his mouse.

‎“Jake,” Heeseung said suddenly, voice deceptively calm. “Focus on the game.”

‎Jake just laughed. “Can’t help it when she’s sitting right here looking like that.”

‎Your heart raced with petty satisfaction. You turned to Jake with a flirty smile. “Maybe I should sit on your lap next round. For good luck.”

‎Jungwon choked on his drink.

‎Heeseung finally looked straight at you. His eyes were dark, something unreadable swirling behind the cocky mask. He looked… annoyed.

‎But he didn’t say anything. He just unmuted his stream and kept playing like nothing happened.

‎Later, after the stream ended and Jake and Jungwon had gone home, you were a little drunk and buzzing with victory. You headed to the kitchen for water.

‎Heeseung was already there, leaning against the counter, hood down for once. His silver hair was messy, eyes tired but sharp.

‎“You done trying to piss me off?” he asked quietly.

‎You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Why? Is it working?”

‎He stared at you for a long moment. The air felt thicker.

‎Then he smirked — that same annoying, cocky smirk.

‎“Careful, newbie. You’re playing a game you don’t know the rules for.”

‎He brushed past you, shoulder grazing yours, leaving the faint scent of his cologne and the heat of his body behind.

‎You stood there in the dark kitchen, heart pounding, wondering why the hell his words made you feel both angry and strangely excited at the same time...

‎‎The next day-

‎‎The lecture hall felt endless today. By the time you finally dragged yourself out of university, your feet ached and your stomach was growling. You stopped at the usual spot and picked up two portions of spicy tteokbokki with rice cakes and fried chicken — Mina’s favorite. She had been texting you all week about how stressed her assignments were, so you figured a girls’ night in with food and gossip was overdue.

‎The apartment was suspiciously quiet when you pushed the door open at 8:17 PM, the warm glow of the living room LEDs the only light on.

‎“Mina?” you called out, kicking off your shoes. No answer. The takeout bags rustled in your hands as you set them on the kitchen counter.

‎You pulled out your phone and dialed her.

‎She picked up on the third ring, voice slightly breathless and giggly. “Hey babe!”

‎“Where are you? I brought tteokbokki and chicken. Thought we could eat and gossip”

‎Mina laughed softly. “Ah… shit. I’m out right now. Sunghoon picked me up after class. We’re just… hanging out.”

‎You frowned, leaning against the counter. “Hanging out? Again? Mina, you’ve been with him almost every night this week.”

‎“We’re just having fun. No labels or anything serious. He’s really good at making me forget how stressful everything is, you know?”

‎You bit your lip. You had seen the way Sunghoon looked at girls — including you. The way his eyes raked over your body when he thought no one was watching. Heeseung’s best friend or not, he didn’t give off boyfriend material vibes. More like ‎heartbreaker who looks like a model.

‎“Mina… just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt. He flirts with everyone.”

‎She sighed dramatically. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll be home late, don’t wait up. Eat without me — or share with Heeseung if he’s around. He probably hasn’t eaten anything but energy drinks again.”

‎You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, sure. Have fun.”

‎After hanging up, you stared at the two steaming bags. Jake and Jungwon weren’t coming over tonight — they were playing from home, apparently. That left only one person in the apartment.

‎Heeseung.

‎You told yourself it was just polite. You grabbed one of the takeout containers, a pair of chopsticks, and a bottle of water, then headed down the hallway toward his room.

‎His door was slightly ajar — unusual. Soft blue light spilled out along with the rapid clicking of a mechanical keyboard and his low, focused voice.

‎“…yeah, Jungwon, rotate left. Jake, cover mid. They’re grouping on dragon.”

‎You peeked in.

‎Heeseung was deep in his element. He leaned forward in his expensive gaming chair. Multiple monitors glowed in front of him — one showing the League game, another with chat scrolling fast, a third with stream stats. He looked completely in the zone, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

‎You hesitated at the door, suddenly feeling intrusive. But the food was getting cold.

‎You knocked lightly. “Heeseung?”

‎He didn’t hear you at first.

‎You stepped inside a little further. “Hey… I brought some takeout. Figured you might not have eaten—”

‎Heeseung startled, head snapping toward you. His eyes widened for a split second — surprise, then something softer — before his usual cocky mask slid back into place.

‎“Shit— wait, hold on guys,” he muttered into the mic. He quickly typed something, then turned fully toward you, one hand still on the mouse. “You’re in my room.”

‎You held up the container like a peace offering. “Mina’s out. I got extra. You’ve been in here all day, right? Just… eat something.”

‎For a moment he just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite process why you were being nice. Then the corner of his mouth twitched. “Trying to poison me or something?”

‎You rolled your eyes. “Yes, because I definitely went through all this trouble just to murder the guy letting me live here for cheap rent.”

‎He let out a short, surprised laugh — genuine, not the annoying smirk kind. It made your stomach do a stupid little flip.

‎He muted his mic properly this time. “Thanks. You can just leave it on the desk if you want.”

‎You walked closer and set the food down beside his keyboard. The room smelled like him — clean cologne mixed with the faint ozone of electronics. His setup was impressive: RGB lights, three large monitors, a professional mic, shelves of figures and keyboards.

‎As you turned to leave, Jake’s voice crackled through his headphones (he must have unmuted briefly).

‎“Yo Heeseung, you still there? What the hell, you went silent mid-fight.”

‎Heeseung’s eyes flicked back to the screen, then to you. Something shifted in his expression —  “Uh… yeah, I’m here. Just… got distracted for a second.”

‎Jungwon chimed in, curious. “Distracted? By what?”

‎You were already at the door when Heeseung spoke again, voice deliberately light. “Hey. You don’t have to run off. Stay if you want. It’s just ranked with the guys. Not a big stream or anything.”

‎You paused, surprised. He never invited you into his space before.

‎Jake laughed over the call. “Wait, is someone in your room right now? Heeseung bringing girls over during stream? That's new.”

‎“Shut up,” Heeseung muttered, cheeks faintly pink under the blue light. He glanced at you again, almost nervous. “You can sit on the bed or whatever. No pressure.”

‎You shouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t. But the way he looked at you made your stubborn side soften just a bit.

‎“Fine,” you said, sitting on the edge of his bed, legs crossed. “But only because the food will get cold if I leave you alone with it.”

‎Heeseung gave you a small, almost shy smile before turning back to his monitors. He unmuted. “Sorry guys, You can continue.”

‎The game picked up again. You watched him play in silence for a while, impressed despite yourself. His hands moved with precision, calling shots calmly while his friends hyped him up. Every now and then he’d sneak a glance at you, checking if you were still there.

‎At one point, after a particularly good play, he leaned back and finally opened the takeout. He ate quickly, humming in appreciation.

‎“This is good,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

‎You stayed longer than you planned. The stream chat kept moving but Heeseung seemed more aware of your presence than the thousands watching him. Every time you laughed softly at something funny the guys said, his lips would curve up a little.

‎By the time they finished the match (another win for Heeseung, of course), the takeout was gone and the tension in the room felt thicker than before.

‎He took off his headset and turned his chair toward you.

‎“You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly.  “But… thanks.”

‎You shrugged, trying to ignore how warm his voice made you feel. “Don’t get used to it. I was just being nice.”

‎Heeseung leaned forward, elbows on his knees, looking at you with an intensity that made your heart stutter.

‎“Yeah?” His voice dropped lower. "You’ve been just being nice to Jake a lot lately too.”

‎There it was. The possessiveness he tried to hide behind annoyance.

‎You stood up, suddenly needing distance. “And you’ve been annoying on purpose. We’re even.”

‎You headed for the door, but his next words stopped you.

‎“Stay a little longer?”

‎It was soft. Almost pleading.

‎You didn’t turn around. “Maybe next time. Goodnight, Heeseung.”

‎As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, breathing a little faster than normal.

‎This was dangerous...

‎But as you walked back to your room, the memory of his shy smile...

‎Mina was going to get hurt by Sunghoon.

‎And you… you were starting to worry you might get burned by Heeseung too.

‎￣￣

‎Saturday night:

‎The living room was alive with laughter, the big TV glowing with the League client on screen, empty soju bottles and snack bags scattered across the coffee table. Mina had finally dragged you out of your room, insisting it was weekend and you both deserved to have fun after a brutal week.

‎The boys were already deep into it when you two arrived — Jake, Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Heeseung sprawled across the massive sectional. Heeseung, of course, in his signature black hoodie, hood half-up, silver hair messy as he fiddled with the controller settings.

‎“Finally!” Jake cheered when he saw you both. “The girls are here. Now we can make this interesting.”

‎Sunghoon’s eyes lit up as they landed on Mina. He patted the spot right beside him. “Come here, babe.”

‎Mina didn’t hesitate. She plopped down next to him, and within minutes they were whispering and laughing, his arm slung casually around her shoulders. You chose the other end of the couch, trying not to overthink how Sunghoon’s hand was already sliding down her back.

‎Heeseung’s gaze found you immediately. He didn’t say anything, but you felt it — that quiet, intense stare from across the room.

‎The games started light. Casual matches, silly bets. Whoever lost a round had to take a shot or do a dare. The energy was electric. You and Mina were laughing more than you had in weeks, the soju making everything funnier.

‎At one point, after Jake lost badly, Jungwon grinned mischievously. “Penalty: Jake has to let one of the girls sit on his lap for the next game.”

‎Jake’s eyes sparkled as he looked straight at you. “Well? Come on, beautiful. Don’t make me lose twice.”

‎You were tipsy enough to not care. With a shrug and a defiant glance toward Heeseung, you stood up and let Jake pull you onto his lap. His arms wrapped loosely around your waist, warm and playful.

‎“Much better,” Jake murmured against your ear, making you laugh.

‎Heeseung’s jaw clenched visibly. His fingers tightened around the controller in his hands — those long, veined, skilled fingers that flew across keyboards with such precision during streams. You had watched them for hours last night in his room. The way they moved… it was hypnotic. Your mind wandered dangerously — imagining those same fingers somewhere else. On your skin. Between your thighs. Pressing and teasing until—

‎You shook the thought away, cheeks heating.

‎The game continued. Mina and Sunghoon were getting bolder by the minute. Halfway through the next match, Mina was straddling Sunghoon on the couch, their mouths locked in a heated kiss. His hands roamed her back openly.

‎Jungwon whistled. “Get a room, you two!”

‎Jake laughed beneath you, his chest vibrating. “They’re not even trying to hide it anymore.”

‎Sunghoon pulled back just enough to smirk. “Jealous, Jungwon?”

‎You tried to focus on the screen, but your eyes kept drifting to Heeseung. He was pretending to watch the game, but his gaze kept flicking to you on Jake’s lap, dark and stormy. The cocky mask was slipping again, revealing something raw underneath.

‎Another round. Another loss for Jake.

‎“New bet,” Sunghoon announced, still holding Mina close. “Loser team has to do whatever the winner wants for the next ten minutes.”

‎The match was intense. Heeseung was carrying as usual, but Jake was distracted — his hands resting a little too comfortably on your thighs, thumbs stroking lazy circles that sent warmth spreading through you. You didn’t stop him. Part of you wanted to see how far you could push Heeseung.

‎Heeseung won the game almost single-handedly.

‎As soon as the victory screen popped up, he set his controller down slowly. His voice was deceptively calm. “My win. Jake, get your hands off her.”

‎Jake chuckled, not moving. “It’s just a game, bro. Relax.”

‎Heeseung stood up. He crossed the room in a few strides and stopped right in front of you and Jake.

‎“Off,” he repeated, eyes locked on you. “Now.”

‎The air grew thick. Mina and Sunghoon had paused their makeout session to watch. Jungwon raised an eyebrow, amused.

‎You lifted your chin stubbornly. “It’s just a bet, Heeseung. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

‎His eyes darkened.

‎You swallowed hard.

‎Jake finally lifted you gently and set you back on the couch, sensing the shift. “Alright, alright. Your win, captain.”

‎But Heeseung wasn’t done. He grabbed your wrist — not rough, but firm — and pulled you up. “Come with me.”

‎You could have resisted. You should have. Instead, you let him lead you down the hallway toward his room, heart hammering.

‎The moment the door closed behind you, Heeseung backed you against it. He just caged you in with his arms, staring down at you with that intense, conflicted look —

‎“You really enjoy driving me crazy, don’t you?” he whispered. His breath brushed your lips. “Sitting on his lap. Letting him touch you. While I’m right here.”

‎You tilted your head, stubborn even now. “Maybe I do. You’re always so cocky. Acting like you own everything — including me.”

‎Heeseung’s hand came up, hovering near your waist. Those long fingers you’d been fantasizing about brushed the hem of your top, not quite touching skin. “I don’t own you. But I want to. Badly.”

‎The confession hung heavy in the air.

‎You could hear the others laughing and playing in the living room.

‎Heeseung leaned in closer, lips inches from yours. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

‎You didn’t say anything. Instead, you grabbed the front of his black hoodie and pulled him the rest of the way.

‎The kiss was intense — hungry. His hands finally touched you, sliding under your top, those skilled fingers tracing your skin, gripping your waist possessively. He kissed like he played — focused.

‎When he pulled back for air, his forehead rested against yours. His voice was rough. “I’ve been jerking off thinking about you every night since you moved in. Hiding it because I didn’t think you’d want a nerd who lives in his streaming room.”

‎Your breath hitched.

‎Heeseung’s hand slid higher, thumb brushing just under your breast. “But I can’t pretend anymore.”

‎From the living room, you heard Jungwon yell something teasing about Mina and Sunghoon again,followed by loud laughter.

‎Heeseung smirked against your lips — that annoying, sexy smirk. “They’re distracted. Stay here with me a little longer?”

‎His fingers traced slow, teasing patterns on your skin.

‎“Heeseung… we shouldn’t—”

‎“Shh.” His voice was low, rough. His fingers slid under your top, tracing your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast.

‎“Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

‎You knoded.

‎In one smooth motion, he turned you around and pressed you against the wall beside the door, your cheek against the cool surface. His chest molded to your back, hard and warm through his black hoodie. You could feel how hard he was, pressed against your ass.

‎“Quiet,” he whispered right against your ear, one hand covering your mouth gently while the other tugged your shorts and panties down in one go. “They’re right outside. Don’t let them hear how much you want this.”

‎You whimpered against his palm as his fingers — those skilled fingers — found you already soaked. He groaned softly.

‎“Fuck… you’re dripping for me.” Two fingers circled your clit slowly, teasing, then dipped inside, curling just right. “All this time acting like you don't like me, and you’re this wet?”

‎You moaned into his hand, hips pushing back against him. Heeseung kept the pace torturous — slow, deep strokes with his fingers. Every time you got close, he slowed down.

‎“Please…” you whispered when he finally uncovered your mouth.

‎“Please what?” He kissed the back of your neck, grinding his clothed cock against you. “Tell me you want me. Not Jake. Not anyone else. Just me.”

‎You bit your lip hard, stubborn even now. “I… I don’t—”

‎He pulled his fingers out completely. You whined at the loss.

‎Heeseung spun you around to face him, lifting one of your legs around his waist. He shoved his sweatpants down just enough to free himself. His cock was thick, hard, the tip already leaking as he rubbed it against your slick folds.

‎“Say it,” he growled softly, eyes locked on yours. “Or I’ll stop right now.”

‎Your pride crumbled under the heat in his gaze. “I want you… only you, Heeseung.”

‎That was all he needed.

‎He pushed inside you in one deep thrust, stretching you open. Both of you moaned — his low and guttural, yours muffled against his shoulder. He was big, filling you completely, and the angle against the wall made everything feel deeper.

‎“Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathed, forehead pressed to yours.

‎He started moving — hard, controlled thrusts that pinned you to the wall. Each snap of his hips drove him deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you. His hand came back over your mouth as your moans grew louder.

‎“Quiet, baby,” he panted, lips brushing your ear. “Don’t want the boys hearing how pretty you sound when I fuck you.”

‎You nodded frantically, nails digging into his shoulders through his hoodie. Heeseung fucked you like he’d been holding back for months, deep and possessive, one hand on your hip to keep you in place while the other muffled your moans.

‎“Come for me,” he whispered. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

‎The pleasure built fast and overwhelming. Your orgasm crashed over you hard, walls clenching around him. Heeseung followed right after, burying himself deep with a broken groan, filling you up as his hips stuttered.

‎For a moment, the only sound was both of you breathing heavily, bodies pressed together against the wall.

‎Heeseung slowly lowered your leg, but didn’t pull out yet. He cupped your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks tenderly. The cocky mask was completely gone — just soft, affection in his eyes now.

‎“I meant what I said earlier,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss. “I’ve been crazy about you since—”

‎The door suddenly opened.

‎“Hyung, did you see my— oh shit.”

‎Jungwon stood in the doorway, eyes wide. He froze for a second, taking in the scene — you pressed against the wall, Heeseung’s hoodie still on but sweatpants low on his hips, the obvious position.

‎Jungwon’s face turned bright red. “Oops… I didn’t see anything. Carry on.”

‎He quickly backed out and closed the door.

‎Heeseung dropped his head to your shoulder with a groan. “Fuck. I forgot to lock it.”

‎Your cheeks burned hotter than they ever had in your life. “Oh my god… he saw us. He literally saw—”

‎Heeseung’s arms wrapped around you tighter, one hand gently rubbing your back. He was still buried inside you, softening slowly, but he made no move to pull out yet. His black hoodie smelled like him — warm, slightly sweaty.

‎“Shhh, it’s okay,” he murmured against your hair, voice soft and reassuring. “Jungwon’s not going to say anything. He’s probably more embarrassed than you are right now.”

‎You peeked up at him. “You forgot to lock the door.”

‎Heeseung let out a sheepish laugh and finally pulled out carefully, fixing his sweatpants before helping you pull your own clothes back up. “My bad. I was a little distracted.” He cupped your face, thumbs brushing your flushed cheeks. “But seriously, don’t worry. He’s my friend. He won’t make it weird.”

‎He kissed you gently this time — slow, sweet, nothing like the desperate way he’d fucked you against the wall minutes ago. Then he pulled you toward his bed, tugging you down with him. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, spooning you under his blanket, chin resting on your shoulder.

‎“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered. “Just like this.”

‎You nodded, letting yourself relax into his warmth. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your stomach, occasionally dipping under your top to caress your skin. No more words were needed. The distant sound of the boys still playing in the living room faded into background noise as you both drifted off, tangled together.

‎‎The next day, the apartment was strangely quiet.

‎Mina had texted that she was staying over at a friend’s (code for Sunghoon’s place again). Only Heeseung remained, locked away in his streaming room since early afternoon.

‎You wandered around bored, cleaning a little, trying to study, but your mind kept drifting back to last night — his hands, his voice telling you to stay quiet, the way he felt inside you. After a few hours, the silence became unbearable.

‎You needed an excuse.

‎You knocked lightly on his door before pushing it open. Heeseung was deep in a stream focused on the game.

‎“Um… have you seen my earrings?” you asked, stepping inside. “I think I lost them yesterday. Maybe they fell off in here?”

‎Heeseung paused his movements for a second, glancing at you with a knowing little smirk. He clearly didn’t buy it for a second. “Earrings, huh?”

‎You nodded, trying to look innocent. “Yeah. They’re important.”

‎He chuckled softly, muting his mic for a moment. "But from what I remember, you weren't wearing earrings..." He let out another quiet laugh. "Miss me already?"

‎Your face heated instantly. "I— no, I just—"

‎"Come here," he said, patting his lap without hesitation. His eyes were soft but playful. “It’s a long ranked session, but I want you close.”

‎You hesitated only a second before walking over and settling on his lap, sideways so you could lean against his chest. His arm wrapped around your waist immediately, holding you securely.

‎On the stream, Jake and Jungwon’s voices came through his headphones.

‎Jake: “Wait, is that— Heeseung, you have company again?”

‎Jungwon: “Hyung… after last night? Bold.”

‎Heeseung’s ears turned pink, but he kept his voice steady. “Focus on the game, guys.”

‎You shifted on his lap to get more comfortable. Heeseung’s grip tightened on your hip. “Don’t move too much,” he whispered against your ear, low enough for only you to hear.

‎The game continued. Heeseung was incredibly focused — calling shots, coordinating with his team. The feeling of him underneath you, warm and solid, made it impossible for you. After a few minutes, you started moving slowly grinding just enough to tease.

‎Heeseung’s breath hitched. His free hand squeezed your thigh warningly. “Baby…”

‎You leaned back against him, lips brushing his neck. “I want you now,” you whispered. “Please.”

‎He glanced at the screen — important team fight coming up. “This match is really important for the team. We can’t lose right now.”

‎You pouted, shifting again. He let out a quiet groan.

‎Then his voice dropped, dangerous and tempting. “I have an idea… but you have to be good. No moving yeah?”

‎You nodded eagerly.

‎Heeseung quickly muted his mic and turned on the “BRB” overlay. He pulled his sweatpants down just enough, then tugged your shorts and panties to the side. He guided you to sink down slowly onto his cock until he was fully seated inside you.

‎“Cockwarming,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “Just stay still while I finish this game. Then I’m all yours.”

‎You whimpered at the fullness, clenching around him involuntarily. Heeseung groaned softly, arms tightening around you. “Good girl. Just like that.”

‎For the first few minutes, you tried. You really did. But he was so deep, so warm, and every tiny shift made pleasure spark through you. Heeseung stayed focused on the game, talking strategy with Jake and Jungwon, completely ignoring the way you were struggling.

‎But you really wanted his attention so you started moving.

‎Slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. Clenching around him rhythmically.

‎Heeseung’s voice faltered mid-sentence. “Fuck— wait, rotate left, I—”

‎Jake laughed. “Hyung, you good? You sound distracted again.”

‎Heeseung’s hand slipped under your top, pinching your nipple in warning, but it only made you move more. You rocked slowly, taking him deeper, biting your lip to stay quiet.

‎His breathing grew ragged. The game on screen started suffering — a missed skill shot, a bad positioning.

‎“Baby… I told you not to move,” he growled quietly, muting the mic again for a second. His hips bucked up once, involuntarily, driving himself deeper.

‎You smiled innocently against his neck. “You’re ignoring me. I just want attention.”

‎Heeseung cursed under his breath. His team was losing the fight because of his distraction.

‎‎On the stream chat, messages were flying:

‎“Is Heeseung okay today?”

‎“Bro is glitching hard lol”

‎With a low, frustrated groan, Heeseung suddenly pushed his chair back, still buried deep inside you. He wrapped both arms around your waist and stood up, carrying you with him as he leaned over the desk to quickly type-

“AFK sorry guys” before ending the stream.

‎“You win,” he said, voice dark and full of promise as he carried you toward the bed.

“Now you’re going to deal with the consequences.”

‎...

[lvxswon]

๑ ♡ ⑅ · Quand j'te réponds pas je gère mes business ;; 박성훈

𝓟airings — Co-parent!Sunghoon × Ex-wife!fem!Reader

𝓒ontent — Businessman!Sunghoon, Divorced AU, Heavy Angst, Workaholic Neglect, Broken Family Dynamics.

𝓝ow playing — love you by nono la grinta

𝓢ynopsis — yn divorced corporate executive Park Sunghoon to escape the loneliness of a marriage that always came second to his career. But a year later, the battlefield has simply shifted to weekend custody drop-offs. Bound by a court agreement, Sunghoon takes their four-year-old son every Friday , only to bring his corporate empire home with him. As Sunghoon drowns in endless board meetings and late-night emails, his son is left waiting by the door, inheriting the exact same emotional neglect that broke his parents apart.

𝓝ote — first time using a French title kinda nervousss guys , I LOVE this song with my whole heart so i had to include it. It also matches the smau

— 𝟎𝟏 . 𝟎𝟐 . 𝟎𝟑 .

@decorpupp @oiosoobin @tenaciousfamiliarphilosopher @luvv1anime @julsforjulieni

[soltyshshs]

PULL IT UP OR I'LL PULL IT DOWN

pairings: idol bf!riki x non-idol gf!fem reader

genre: smut, nsfw, established relationship

word count: 1.8k

warnings & content: mdni! 18+ explicit language, suggestive themes, oral sex (m receiving) blowjob, handjob, kissing 

synopsis: riki’s dangerously low sweatpants and deliberate teasing push you to the edge. when he dares to expose more, you take control, dropping to your knees to silence his games…

now playing: “loose” by enhypen 

sol’s note: there's a photo of ni-ki from the concert circulating around here on tumblr and i decided to make one for it. bruhh my boi almost show his dihh 😓

Riki was pacing back and forth in the living room. He wore a black tank top that clung to his defined shoulders and chest, the fabric stretched tight over his muscles, but it was the lower half of him that was causing the real distraction for you. A pair of loose gray sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, secured only by the sharp jut of his hip bones. Every time he took a step, the waistband dipped, revealing the elastic band of his black Calvin Klein boxers.

He stopped in front of the full-body mirror, admiring his physique. You watched Riki over the rim of your book, breath catching in your throat as he lifted the hem of his tank top. His hand slipped underneath, palm flattening against his stomach as he rubbed his abs, his fingers tracing the tone muscles he's been working out. The movement caused the tank top to rise further, exposing the intricate ink of the tattoos running along his side waist, leading your eye down to the deep, sharp cut of his v-line.

It was criminal to look at but he is your boyfriend anyways. Those damn sweatpants were insanely bad to your sanity, swaying loosely with every shift of his weight, threatening to slide right off his frame.

You weren't even pretending to read anymore. The book lay forgotten, your gaze fixed on the reflection in the mirror, tracking the path of his hand as it drifted lower, fingers toying with the waistband of his pants.

"Done checking me out?" Riki’s teasing voice cut through the silence.

He met your eyes in the mirror, a smirk playing on his lips. You blinked, caught red-handed, and quickly snapped your gaze back down to the page you hadn't turned in ten minutes. Oh.

"In your dreams," you shot back, rolling your eyes, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you.

Riki just chuckled, turning his back from you as he walked toward the kitchen. "Whatever you say, babe."

You tried to focus on the text, forcing your brain to process the sentences, but it was useless. The image of his hand on his skin engraved in your mind. A moment later, the fridge door opened and closed, and he walked back into the living room.

If you thought the pants were low before, it was nothing compared to now. The gray fabric had slipped another inch, the waistband sitting dangerously low, exposing the sharp definition of his hip bones. He stopped in front of you, holding a glass of water in his right hand.

"Babe, do you have other pants? Do you want me to buy one for you?" you asked, pointing out his loose sweatpants. You were genuinely concerned he didn't own clothes that actually fit him anymore.

He lowered the glass, wiping a droplet of water from his lower lip with his thumb. "Nah, I'm good babe. Besides, this is a trend nowadays." He smiled, that infuriatingly handsome, knowing smile, before tilting his head back to finish the water.

Your eyes traced the column of his throat as he swallowed, watching the bob of his Adam's apple. The sharp line of his jaw tensed and relaxed. He looked so manly, so effortlessly gorgeous by just standing there.

Riki stepped closer, coming to a stop just on the other side of the coffee table. You stared at the waistband of his sweatpants, the way they clung to nothing but air, the elastic band of his boxers clearly visible.

"Riki, pull it up. I swear. You're about to show your ass you know?" you said, your voice tinged with irritation, though it was mostly frustration at how badly you wanted to touch him.

"No. I'm not. Why are you bothered?" He teased, wiggling his eyebrows up and down flirting at you.

"Stop. There's nothing funny. I just don't want you to expose what's mine," you blurted out. The words hung in the air, with a hint of possessiveness. You felt your face flush hot by your sudden confession.

"Possessive are we?" he chuckled, stepping closer to the edge of the table, enjoying your flustered state.

Instead of fixing his pants, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged them lower, deliberately slow. The gray fabric slid down his thighs, and the outline of his bulge became unmistakably visible, pressing against the front of his boxers.

"What about this?" He laughed, wiggling his eyebrows again, tugging the pants up and down in a rhythmic, mocking motion.

That was it.

You slammed your book shut, the loud thud echoing through the living room. Riki jumped slightly, his eyes widening in surprise at the sudden noise. You didn't say a word. You stood up, the book abandoned on the cushion, and walked around the coffee table until you were standing right in front of him.

Without breaking eye contact, you dropped to your knees. The carpet cushioned your descent as you settled between his legs. He spun around to face you, the movement bringing his crotch level with your face, the heavy outline of his cock inches from your nose.

"W-what is this?" he stammered, as he looked down at you.

"I don't play games, Riki. I'll pull it down for you," you smirked, craning your neck back to look up at him.

He inhaled sharply, his chest heaving as you reached out. You palmed his clothed member, feeling the heat radiating through the cotton, the weight of him filling your hand. You ran your hands up to the waistband of his sweatpants, fingers curling around the elastic, and slowly tugged them down.

He helped you, kicking the gray fabric away impatiently. You immediately reached for the black Calvin Klein boxers, dragging them down his thighs. His cock sprang free, slapping lightly against your cheek as it escaped the fabric. It stood up hard and thick, the tip already glistening with pre-cum, ready for your touch.

You wrapped your hand around the base, feeling the pulse of blood beneath the velvety skin. You stroked him gently, squeezing slightly as you moved your hand up and down. A breathy groan tore from Riki’s throat, his head falling back.

"Fuck," he hissed.

You leaned in, spitting directly onto the head of his cock, letting your saliva mix with the pre-cum. You showed him your tongue, swirling it teasingly before you took him inside your warm, wet mouth. You kept your eyes locked on his face, watching his expression contort with pleasure as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with every pass.

"F-fuck baby. Your mouth feels good around my dick," he moaned, his hands tangling in your hair, fingers gripping the strands to guide you.

You tightened your palm around the base of his shaft, stroking him in time with the movements of your mouth. You sucked hard, your cheeks hollowing out, focusing on the sensitive ridge just below the head. You could feel every vein on your tongue, the texture of him dragging against the soft wetness of your mouth as he slid deeper.

"Keep going please—" Riki pleaded, his hips buckling forward, pushing your head down, wanting more.

He looked down at you, unable to look away. The sight of his big cock stuffed in your mouth, your pink lips stretched tight around him, was intoxicating. Your mouth glistened with the mixture of your saliva and his dripping pre-cum, strands of it connecting your lips to his shaft as you pulled back. The warmth of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue were sending him to cloud nine, and he knew he was the luckiest man alive to have you on your knees like this.

"You're so pretty around me. Ahh—" he moaned, as he began to fuck your mouth faster.

You gagged around him, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, but you didn't pull away. You gripped his hips harder, your nails digging into his skin to steady yourself as he thrust into your mouth, losing control.

"Please! Please! Please! D-don't stop…" he begged, his voice wrecked.

Riki’s eyes drifted to the side, catching the reflection in the full-body mirror. The visual was filthy and perfect—he could see the way his cock disappeared fast in and out of your pretty mouth, the way your head bobbed furiously as he held your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He groaned again, the reflection in front of him pushing him closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum—ngh," he breathed out, his rhythm turning erratic as he continued to fuck your mouth, chasing his release.

You felt him swell in your mouth, getting heavier and fuller. You knew he was close. You released one hand from his hip and reached down to cup his balls, massaging them gently, rolling them in your palm to help him get there faster.

"Shit—F-fuck baby…" he cried out.

He came hard, his hips jerking forward as he buried himself deep in your throat. You felt the warm, salty flood of his seeds dripping inside your throat, coating your tongue. You swallowed around him, desperate to take it all, but there was too much. Some of it escaped the seal of your lips, dripping out of the corner of your mouth and running down your chin, landing straight onto your cleavage, staining the white lace camisole you wore.

Riki stood there for a moment, chest heaving, before he slowly pulled his softening cock from your mouth. He looked down at you, his face flushed with post-orgasmic bliss. He reached out, bringing his thumb to your chin to wipe the semen dripping from your lip. Without hesitation, he brought his thumb to your mouth, pushing it past your lips. You sucked it obediently, swirling your tongue around the digit, making wet, lewd noises as you cleaned him off.

He pulled his thumb free, the wet sound echoing in the quiet room. Then, he dropped to his knees in front of you, ignoring the hardness of the floor. He grabbed the nape of your neck and kissed you harshly, his tongue explores into your mouth tasting himself. It was a messy and possessive kiss.

Riki pulled back, a soft, genuine smile gracing his lips. He reached down, taking your hands from your thighs and placing them back on his semi-hard cock, which twitched at the friction of your touch.

"I will definitely wear more loose pants from now on," he said, his voice husky and sincere.

He wasn't fooling around.

You smiled back at him, your fingers tracing the length of him. Good thing you loved it.

taglist: @hoonguin @jakeycakeys @simjaeyunlvrclub @ni-kiluvzxo @livonianmaia @kristynaaah

©soltyshshs

[simjakedly]

cherry? cherry. - p.js

main masterlist | part one | part two

synopsis. jay is everything an alpha should be: respectful, mature, impossibly considerate. unfortunately, the omega he falls for at first sight thinks he’s a performative fraud. determined to prove he’s genuinely a good alpha, jay sets out to win over a man-hater (you!) while trying not to lose his mind over your smile, your sharp tongue, and, regrettably—your very distracting chest. oh goddess of the moon, please show him mercy! he swears he’s not a pervert. a spin-off from love me (k)not and mark me yours!

pairing. alpha!jay x omega!female reader

genre(s). omegaverse, rom-com, (one-sided) enemies-to-lovers, love at first sight, light angst, fluff

warnings. jay pervert allegation, reader has above-average boobs, profanity, whole &team are assholes here sorry, ex-boyfriend maki, cheating, gaslighting, reader is a fashion student, enhypen ensemble, jay is a sweetheart, reader is just a complex character please try to understand her, nesting, vulnerability and insecurity, arranged date, not beta read we die like injang, please let me know if i missed anything <3

word count. 16,983 words

note. this is soooo long overdue i'm sorry :( but it's my first ever jay fic though so we cheer! have fun reading and lmk what you think <3

“Peach or cherry?”

Jay is losing his mind and all Jake cares about is whether he prefers ass or boobs.

The frat house is crowded as usual, with people getting drunk and high on whatever substances they prefer in their system. On any other night, Jay would find the scene irritable and annoying. 

After all, he always keeps himself in check, always sober and in control of his actions and thoughts, always so, so responsible. He’d prefer watching from the sidelines and being of help for when Riki starts throwing up from too much drinking or when Heeseung sings too loud after his second fill.

Jay is always responsible. He never lets himself on the loose.

But tonight, as the aftermath of his near-fight with Heeseung and him having to rush to the hospital after the burgundy-haired alpha collapsed in his omega’s doorway, despite Jay himself being too shaken to stand, he thinks he’s fine with getting slightly reckless.

Slightly reckless, in this case, is drinking more than the two red cups he usually gets.

“Why are we using fruits to represent anatomy?” 

Back to the situation at hand, where he’s sitting on top of a tall stool around the kitchen island, Sunoo is throwing Jake a grimace. Beside him, Riki already has his head bobbing to the music, a telltale sign of a blackout drunk that would usually result in Jay and Sunoo cleaning his mess up. A defeated sigh leaves his lips involuntarily.

Jay downs another shot.

"I don't want to be too explicit," Jake shrugs, like it's the most normal thing to do. "So, peach or cherry?"

Jay knows how this will go.

Riki is an ass guy, judging from the way he likes to slap anyone's butt within his proximity. Jake is both because he's an indecisive little shit who's just too greedy to pick. If pussy was on the options, he'd pick all three.

Sunoo, despite his reckless endeavor with alphas, Jay has never heard him doing anything more than a messy make-out and a blowjob. But he might be an ass guy too, just because he has a juicy fat ass. Heeseung—well, if he was here, anyway—would've said boobs, because Jay knows him a little too well which makes him privy to the former's (previously) sexually active life.

And Jay—he's too respectful to even answer that.

True to his own guess, Riki shakes his head drunkenly from beside an expressionless Sunoo. "My girl is perfect," he says, then grins cheekily. "But I like taking her from the back. Shit, you shouldn't know that."

"We shouldn't, dumbass. Why are you airing out your bedroom activities to us?" Sunoo rolls his eyes, but there's no bite to it. Everybody knows how loose Riki's tongue can get when he's wasted. On any other sober days, he would gate-keep the hell out of his omega. "Anyway, peach."

Jay has guessed almost everything right. He downs another shot.

A shit-eating grin appears on Jake's face. "I knew it, Sunny, you're an ass guy!"

"It's not really a groundbreaking discovery," Sunoo shrugs his shoulders, then turns to Jay. "Jay hyung, what about you?"

Jay is a respectful guy, so there's no way he would ever answer that. He shakes his head, already dizzy from the buzzing alcohol in his system.

"I don't like talking about this."

A chorus of groans echoes around the island. Only Sunoo smiles at him.

"You're no fun, Jjongsaeng," Jake shoves his shoulders playfully. "It's harmless conversation. As for me, I like anything they give me, but I love pussy the most. Which will make me a butterfly guy."

Sunoo lets out a loud groan, while Riki is already giggling. "Are you calling pussy a butterfly? Hyung, please shut the fuck up."

It's ridiculous, really. Jay loves his friends, but they sometimes do questionable things that makes him want to rip his own hair out. If Jungwon was here, he would be up his ass and plot ways to get on his nerves. If Sunghoon was here, well, Jay likes his company the most because he's the calmest and doesn't say controversial shits that could get them cancelled. His friends can be insufferable sometimes, but the most annoying one at this moment is none other than Heeseung.

Thinking about the burgundy-haired alpha just makes his wolf bitter all over again. Seriously, what did he do wrong? Heeseung should've been thanking him instead for keeping his omega dry from the rain. Not taking him down in an almost-fistful physical attack, and definitely not this silent treatment between them that makes their shared apartment smaller than it is, on-edge pheromones suffocating the air.

Jay is pissed. Pissed that they haven't made up yet and pissed at himself for being too kind.

Is he too kind? Should he just let her get soaked in the rain?

He grabs his red cup, ready to feel the alcohol again, and sighs quietly when there's only a drop left inside. Jay is about to stand and refill more booze, but he's stopped by a firm hand on his wrist.

He looks up to a worried Sunoo.

The younger alpha gives him a once-over. He probably looks so red in the face right now, but nobody seems to notice because Jake and Riki are somehow trying to bite each other's heads off arguing about the proper fruit representative for a pussy.

"You're drinking a lot tonight," Sunoo finally says, ever the observant. "Did something happen?"

Everything happened.

Is what Jay wants to say badly.

That near-fight with Heeseung happened. That still-awkward tension between him and Riki's mate happened. That weird glances mated alphas throw at him whenever he's around their omegas happened. That flirty and hopeful stares omegas give him whenever he so as looks their way happened.

And, despite everything, him still not meeting his mate happened.

If anyone should be envious, it's Jay. Not Heeseung. Not Riki.

"Envious of?"

Shit. He said that out loud, didn't he?

He was about to deflect, but now that Sunoo is fixing him with that foxy gaze, glinting with relentless curiosity that won't back down no matter the excuses, Jay knows he has nowhere to go. He looks to his left, where Jake and Riki has reconciled and agree that no fruit matches with a pussy's shape because apparently pussy is too special for fruit comparisons, settling on calling it flower instead, and now have started discussing about how diabolical it is to compare a dick to an eggplant, and sighs.

Jay thinks he needs new friends. Better friends, even. Except Sunoo. And Sunghoon.

"Hyung?"

When Jay's sure that Jake and Riki are too wasted and distracted to eavesdrop, he finally relents.

"I…Sunoo-yah," he swipes a tongue across his bottom lip. "Is there something wrong with me?"

This is why he hates getting drunk. Because his body recognises alcohol as invitation to start talking deep shits and pouring his heart out like an endless stream of river. It's not a bad thing to be vulnerable, but Jay has guarded his heart so tight that only certain people have the privilege to listen to his deepest secrets.

Thankfully, tonight is just his luck. Rather than exposing himself to a stranger, which has been his biggest fear when getting drunk, it's Sunoo who's listening to him attentively. The brown-haired alpha is looking at him softly, amber eyes full of understanding and encouragement, and it makes the tension in his shoulders slowly melt away.

"Why'd you say that?"

Jay is quiet for a moment. Right, why would he? Then he remembers Heeseung and Riki, those omegas and alphas, and, finally—his own wolf.

"Am I too…" he sucks in a breath, not wanting to sound self-absorbed, but it's what he's been hearing from people.

"Am I too much of a green flag?"

Sunoo didn't expect that from him, judging by the micro-surprise in his expression. Maybe he should stop there and let Sunoo reply, but now that he finally lets it out, Jay finds it easy to just continue.

"Is it wrong to be a kind alpha? I think it wasn't, but seeing how anxious and weary alphas can get when I'm being a gentleman to their omegas…" he trails off, hating the fact that it's his best friends' faces that appear on his mind. "I think it's a mistake. I shouldn't be too kind, right?"

There's a muffled silence between them, dampened by the loud bass from the living room and the sharp citrus turning bitter in the air. Jay looks off to the kitchen island, realising that it's now just him and Sunoo in that space; Jake and Riki are now joining the beer pong just getting started in the backyard.

Across from him, a look of understanding crosses Sunoo's face.

"There's no such thing as being too kind, hyung."

"Then why am I being punished for it?" He cuts in sharply. "Why do I feel bad for doing those things to them?"

He still remembers, the day Riki showed up in his apartment, crying because his lifelong crush wanted Jay to help her with her heat. Riki begged him not to agree, and Jay had done so—it didn't feel right to do that, especially when he knows about the younger boy's feelings for his childhood friend. But then Riki changed his mind and convinced him to say yes, because 'I didn't want her to go through it alone in indescribable pain, and I don't want to ruin our friendship if it's not me that she wanted. Please help me, hyung, she's just presented as an omega. It'll be too dangerous for her to do it alone.'

He had agreed out of sympathy for his younger friend, but somehow him agreeing had bloomed jealousy in the alpha's heart. Jay understands—Riki is still too young, and young alphas are the most territorial creatures to walk on this Earth—but it still hurts his feeling to be treated like a Mr. Steal Your Girl, when he has never stolen anything except omegas' hearts unintentionally.

Riki had apologised and admitted to his immaturity, but still, it wasn't enough to erase weeks of awkward silences and clipped conversations over a single apology. His omega has been extra cautious around Jay, and it always makes him sore to hold back from being himself around her. Or around any taken omegas, for the record.

So, really, he'd appreciate it a lot if Sunoo could just be honest with him and tell him, 'Yes, hyung, you're too kind for your own good,' instead of sugarcoating it.

But of course Sunoo would say the opposite.

"The ones who did that to you aren't the people you helped, right?" Sunoo says, smooth voice weaving through the music like it's meant to find Jay no matter the noise. "It's always the jealous alphas. But I'm sure those omegas were thankful for you for helping them. You're not being punished, hyung. You're just too good that you kinda intimidated these alphas into thinking that their mates would run to you the second they look away."

Jay doesn't know what to say to that. Sunoo always has this way of charming people with his words, the kind that can convince a criminal that they're a saint with that lilt in his voice that only he has. He's not sure if Sunoo really means it, or if it's the truth as it is.

The younger alpha sees right through him. "You're doubting me."

"No! No, I'm just—" Jay pauses, hating the fact that he is indeed doubting his friend's words, and decides to just be honest. "Okay—yeah. You're right. It's hard to believe you."

Sunoo hums, not the slightest offended. He leans forward, turning his head to watch the ongoing beer pong, seen through the transparent sliding door. Jay follows his line of sight, and feels his chest tighten when he sees Riki making out with his omega.

It's the familiar ache that he felt when he saw the mating mark on Riki's neck. The same longing he feels whenever his mated teammates talk about their fulfilled love life. It's like a circle of bubble that Jay doesn't dare burst, being the only one outside of a room full of people who have found the meaning of love.

I wish I could have that too.

Sunoo catches him before he could mask his scent. He throws Jay an expressionless look. For a moment, Jay prepares himself for a 'Gotcha!' comment from him, but the younger alpha only gives him a close-lipped smile.

"Ah, hyung. I should've known. You want a mate, don't you?"

"I don't," Jay is quick to deny, but upon seeing the knowing glint in Sunoo's eyes, he realises there's no point in denying. He sighs for the umpteenth time that night.

"Yes, I do. But it's not as easy as you might think."

"Why? I'm pretty sure there are many omegas who'd throw themselves at you."

"But I can't because I…" Jay licks his lips, "I don't find anyone I like enough yet."

Sunoo doesn't say anything for a long, stretched moment. Jay almost squirms under his dissecting eyes. It feels as though Sunoo is picking him apart by his gaze and his scent alone, seeing parts of himself that he wouldn't show bare. It's unnerving yet weirdly comforting at the same time, having someone who can see right through him despite the walls he built.

"Hyung, everything about this gentleman persona and you wanting a mate—there's only one thing I can say."

Jay swallows thickly, mind sobering up with each passing second. "What?"

"You are with this kindness not without a purpose," Sunoo says calmly, like he hasn't just dropped the most riddled sentence that sounds too Shakespeare-ish to Jay's drunken mind.

"Huh?"

"I'm saying, there is someone out there who needs your kindness, hyung. Your patience. Your heart," Sunoo flashes him a small smile, sincere and genuine. "You'll meet them someday. And when you do, you'll understand why you are the way you are. You are never too much for someone who's meant to hold you."

Jay hears him, truly, but that promise sounds so distant and far away. Like a reality he's witnessesing from a different universe, through a portal of lifelong waiting and yearning. He wants to believe it, wants to hold onto every syllable and let it be his new faith, but the deepest, ugly part of him doesn't believe he belongs to that kind of destiny.

He doesn't say anything. Not that he has the chance to when the smell of burning chocolate greets his senses and soon, an upset Jungwon is already filling up the space with his broad shoulders and moody pheromones.

A black leather jacket, zipped up to his chin, hugs his body, highlighting his wide figure under the kitchen light, paired with leather pants. Jungwon's hair is messy, untamed around the frame of his eyes, and Jay knows why when he sees the helmet in his arm.

"Hyung, be honest. Do I look too baby-faced?" The alpha pouts, gesturing at his body. "Even after wearing this whole gear? I even rode my precious bike to see her!"

Jay doesn't have to stay to know that Jungwon's whining about the older omega he has a crush on, someone that used to babysit him when he was 10 years old and is now still treating him like a baby. He would've stayed to listen and comfort the younger alpha, really, but unfortunately for Jungwon, Jay also needs some comfort for himself before he loses his fucking mind.

He grabs his red cup and stands up, needing the alcohol to be in his system now more than anything. The other two alphas don't notice him leaving, and if they do, Jay's sure Sunoo's more interested to hear about Jungwon's failing love life than his already-doomed one.

Jay makes his way through the crowd, giving polite smiles to everyone in his way. He's not really a fan of this kind of crowd—it's more of Heeseung's and Riki's crowd—but it's the least of his concerns now. The alpha squeezes past dancing omegas whose stares linger, past a group of alphas who give him a nod of acknowledgement, past a pair of lovers making out on the wall.

That makes him falter.

Jay blames it on the alcohol. Really, he's usually not like this. It's actually easier to act like not having a mate among friends who are already mated doesn't affect him when his thoughts are more coherent and making sense. But right now, as he watches the couple giggling at each other, lips in ears and soft eyes looking into soft eyes, a pinch of envy twists in his chest.

Jay huffs, leaving the scene faster than he'd like to admit. Seriously, if he was so good and kind like everybody had said, if he's the picture-perfect alpha like every family member had boasted about, then why is it only him alone with no one to hold? Why is it always him who's cleaning after everybody's mess when he only watches on the sidelines as they get their happy ending? Why is it that people who run from love are more favoured than someone who's always been ready like him?

What about him? What about his happy ending?

After what felt like hours, Jay finally finds his booze. Jake has an eccentric preference of placing the booth all over the frat house, and the one in the kitchen has long ran out. He's standing at the booth by the stairs right now, the majority of them still untouched. Jay pours into his cup full to the brim. His senses are already tingling with the thoughts of drinking more.

When the alcohol buzzes through his system, Jay lets out a satisfied sigh. God, he's so carefree tonight. But whatever, he's pretty sure Sunoo can drive them home safely. Right now, Jay's focus is only on making himself feel better and forget whatever ruckus that has unfolded the past few weeks.

He pours more when his cup empties. From where he's standing, the bass doesn't really reach him, a bit distant from the speaker now blasting Miley Cyrus' Party In The U.S.A.. It makes the conversation around him sounds clearer in his ears. Including the ones coming from upstairs.

Jay pays them no mind. He's not here for gossips or shits and giggles—he's here to cool off. But when something sweet, something that reminds him of his mom's berry strudels and morning coffee drifts into his nose, Jay's senses sharpen.

Is someone baking? He wonders alone. The last time he left the kitchen, there were only Sunoo and Jungwon. As far as he remembers, neither could touch the oven without risking an explosion.

So where does this sweet scent come from?

It gets sweeter the more he spends his focus on it. Jay looks around, mind still buzzing, unable to find the source of the scent that has piqued his interest through the haziness. His nose twitches. Even in his drunken state, Jay can't help but notice how constrasting the scent is to his sharp citrus.

And for some reason, his wolf likes it.

"Is it from the stairs?" he mumbles, stumbling to the foot of the stairs, drink sloshing in his cup.

But just as he's about to look up, he's already colliding into a soft body coming down from upstairs.

"Ah!"

Oh no.

Jay watches in horror as the drink in his hand spills all over the person's shirt, staining the white fabric with yellowish mark that almost looks like someone's piss. He freezes, mouth gaping in surprise, but the only thing his hazy mind picks up is 'Yes, he's finally found where the scent comes from.'

It's from the victim of his booze.

Or rather, the furious omega who's looking down at him with a sneer on her face right now.

"Hey!" You yell, face burning red. "Look at what you did!"

Oh, Jay is definitely looking. For some reason, his eyes are glued to your face, taking in every feature decorating your sweet face. The perfectly sculpted brows that are now frowning deep, the round eyes that are narrowing down at him, the full lips that are pulled into a tight, dissatisfied line.

Such an angry omega. But also the most beautiful he's ever laid his eyes on.

"Hey, stupid alpha. I'm talking to you!"

Jay has never seen you before. Who are you? Why are you making his heart beat so fast? Why is his wolf wiggling his tail at the sight of you?

"Oh my fucking God. So fucking annoying."

Even when you're glaring at him, under the dim light of Jake's frat house, you look very, very pretty. Are you even real, or just a drunken manifestation of his desperation for a mate?

Jay's too starstruck and drunk to notice how dumb he must look right now, but you've had enough of the alpha gaping at you like a dying fish. You shake his shoulders, manicured nails digging into his shirt.

"Earth to dumbass alpha! Hello??? You just spilled your drink all over my Limited Edition Cherry Chanel Baby Tee!"

Oh, right. Jay snaps out of his reverie, and drops his eyes on your chest to see the damage he's done.

But instead of realising his mistake, he's realising something else instead.

The wet patch darkens your shirt from its usual shade, sticking to your chest like second skin. From where he's standing so close, just a step below you on the stairs, his eyes level with your chest, Jay has a belated realisation that you have such perfect…boobs.

They're slightly bigger than average, perfectly-shaped and round, and they sit so nicely that Jay feels like they'd beat his expensive pillows in softness. A thought, a small thought that sober-Jay would never have, crosses his mind.

Jay wants to bury his face in your chest to test it.

Oh my God. This is bad. Drunk-Jay is so, so bad. He's really malfunctioning tonight.

You, on the other hand, are already at your wits' ends. It doesn't help that the shirt feels so sticky, so uncomfortable and it irritates you to the core. Also, why the fuck is this stupid alpha staring at your chest like—like he wants to touch it?

"Hey!" you push his shoulder again, but the alpha doesn't budge. You grit your teeth. "My eyes are up here, dumbass!"

Jay breathes out. "Che…rry."

Your brows furrow in confusion.

"What?"

"Cherry." Jay repeats, eyes never leaving your chest. His mind is dissolving into mixed up conversations—he can hear Jake's voice, your voice, and the bass mixing together.

"I prefer…cherry."

There is a heavy silence that follows, loaded with bubbling anger, drunk confusion, and a very, very horrific realisation that he's talking about your chest. Your mouth falls open.

With a handsome face and neat shirt like that, you can't believe that this alpha is such a fucking pervert!

"Yah! Are you crazy?! What cherry?!" You scream, attracting more attention on the two of you. Jay barely blinks. "Are you talking about—about my boobs?!"

Jay blinks blearily, then nods.

"Your…cherry."

You let out a scandalised gasp. Humiliation starts creeping up your face, painting your skin even redder than before.

This is ridiculous. This is diabolical! The audacity of this alpha—!

Before you know it, your hand already swipes across his cheek in a surprised, harsh slap. Jay's head jerks to the side, his own eyes growing wide at the impact. A ringing silence echoes between the two of you, followed by a chorus of gasps from the onlookers.

After literally getting slapped into his senses, Jay sobers up in that one single moment and realises with a dread, What the fuck did he just do?

He slowly looks back at you, touching his stinging cheek like you had personally offended his whole bloodline. You're glaring at him, chest heaving rapidly like you can't contain your anger any longer.

"You fucking pervert!"

Jay's breath hitches. He's a pervert?

"Get away from me!"

The alpha lets his body get shoved to the side like a door blocking the way. He stands there, motionless, as he watches you leave, angry steps making your hair bounce. Shame and guilt start crawling up his chest when his mind decides to replay the scene, realising in horror how out of character he had been and how rude he was to you.

Oh God. Oh my God.

Seriously, Park Jongseong? Cherry? That's the first thing you say to the literal love of your life?

"Isn't that Park Jongseong?"

"Oh my God, I thought he was a green flag?"

"I guess even a green flag still has a knot to satisfy."

"Park Jongseong is a pervert?"

Jay squeezes his eyes shut and runs a hand down his face. He doesn't really care about his reputation, so the whispers barely bother him.

What he cares more is the lingering scent of acidic espresso and rotting cherries in the air, trailing after you even when you're long gone. His cheek still burns, but he couldn't care less because—you know…he kind of deserved it.

Fuck.

And Jay doesn't even know your name.

"All alphas are nothing but a knothead!"

You spit, seething in anger as you glare at anyone in your way. Not even the loud music can muffle your voice, sending death threats and insults to a certain alpha (and literally all other alphas.)

Maybe it's just your bad day, because just as you finally see your exit, an alpha—stupidly broad-shouldered alpha, fuck alphas and their ridiculous proportions—bumps into you. You click your tongue and look up at him.

"Why do you guys stupid alphas only think with your dick, your cock, and only your small fucking knot?!"

The alpha stares at you in horror. It seems like today is more of his unlucky day than yours.

"I-I don't—"

"What? You don't have a dick?" You cut him off, irritation pulling at your nerves. Tonight is such a shitty night. "Isn't that the only thing you alphas are proud of? Thinking with your knot and tricking omegas with your cock?!"

The poor alpha stands there cowering, hanging his head low as if he's already accepted his fate of being the receiving end of your hatred towards alphas and…dicks.

You push a trembling finger on his chest, eyes prickling with tears. Fuck these hormones and emotions, fuck this soft scent that makes people think you're nothing more than a weak, defenceless omega—you've had enough of everything.

"Am I wrong? Isn't that why Riki cheated on me?!" You yell, not caring if people catch your words. "Because his dick can't get enough with only one pussy?!"

A ripple of murmurs and whispers start spreading around you. Even the DJ has turned the volume down slightly, taken aback by the sudden drop of the bomb of truth.

A cheating scandal? That's the juiciest gossip college students could have ever had.

The nameless alpha looks at you, eyes wide in surprise mixed with disappointment when he hears your words.

"Oh my God—there's no way—Riki cheated?" He stammers. "Nishimura Riki cheated?"

"Who the fuck is Nishimura Riki?" Your brows furrow, first time hearing that family name. "It's Hirota Riki! My stupid, cheating ex who's immature and younger than me and just plain dumb like a textbook alpha!"

The relief physically vanishes from his face. Then, as if realising what you have said, his face mirrors your confusion. "Wait—you mean Maki? That German-Japanese guy?"

You squeeze your eyes shut. Of course people know him. You almost forgot that your ex, other than being a piece of garbage and a pain in your ass, is also a famous model for the college magazines. His face is everywhere, in every campaign and poster and advertisements, wearing clothes that always gains attention.

Clothes that you designed and sewn by hand.

The back of your eyes burn with tears, but you blink them back, not wanting people to see your sadness. You'd rather they have your anger and rage, because lashing out and being called crazy for screaming seem less vulnerable than the little drops of tears down your cheeks.

You push at the alpha weakly, every fibre of your being just begging to go home and forget everything about tonight.

"Are you okay, angry omega?"

"Shut up," you hiss, voice shaky. "I'm leaving this place."

The crowd parts for you as you make your way to the exit. You sway slightly, too drained from spending your energy screaming at everyone and no one at the same time.

You hate the prying eyes. You hate the pitying words. You hate the whispers. But there's nothing you can do when it's you who accidentally aired out your ex boyfriend's scandal in your fit of anger.

It's been two months since the breakup—a breakup that you thought was healthy and reasonable. Maki told you that he was going to get busy with growing his career, balancing his job as a freelance model with being an engineering student was starting to take up most of his time. Somewhere in between schedules, he no longer could find the time to love you, to fit you in his world of fame and glory.

You didn't want to hold him back. Even when you had liked him more than you ever did anyone, you still let him go. The relationship lasted only for nine months, and you never really expected anything serious or long lasting from dating someone in college.

But tonight, a friend let the truth slip.

Maki didn't break up with you because he wanted time for his career growth—or whatever bullshit he spouted at you. No.

He has been seeing another omega behind your back. Someone from the same major as you.

It's no surprise that you didn't find out any sooner. Being a fashion major warrants competitiveness and rivals—and you're not exactly well-loved by your fellow designers. You're the notorious omega known for your ridiculous standards, your pride and stubbornness, and your sharp tongue. It's your brilliant designs that get people to at least pretend to be your friends, hoping to steal a bit of your creative talent—but you always smell bullshit from miles away.

So, really, it upsets you that you failed to detect Maki's bullshit first. And people have been keeping it from you because they like to see your downfall.

And what better downfall is there than seeing your ex cheating on you with your fashion rival?

It's not like you liked him to the point of love—no. It's the betrayal that makes your mouth feel dry, heart heavy in ways it never had been before, like an anchor pulling down ships to sink.

Before you know it, you're already outside. The air is too chilly for your skin, amplified by the wet stain on your chest. You bite your lips, on the verge of tears when you're reminded of that perverted alpha.

Another alpha that only caused you humiliation. Really?

How can someone look at you like you're the most divine being one minute, then blatantly stare at your chest the next?

It's beyond you, really. Alphas are just evolutionary failures.

You fish out your phone from your wallet and look for an Uber. You're not too drunk to drive. If anything, you've never felt more sober in your life. It's just skills issue—you just cannot drive. Even when you have a whole damn Porsche in the garage of your family's mansion; a gift from your overly-doting parents who got too excited when you managed to get into fashion school—it still terrifies you to hold the steering wheel.

All of these privileges and wealth, yet no success in the dating department (and driving classes). Your whole life, you have dated a cheater, a closeted alpha who was too scared to tell you that he liked knots better than your pussy, and just a total manchild who sulked back whenever you pouted.

"Seriously," you mutter, confirming your location on the screen. "When will it be my turn to date an actual manly alpha?"

You pause. Now that you think of it, even so-called green-flag alphas give you the ick.

They're just a bunch of performative males. Just look at the college's beloved cheater. Maki was acting like a green forest itself when he was courting you!

None of these alphas can be trusted!

"I will just die single," you decide, closing the app once your driver is confirmed. Your parents have more than enough money to support you anyway.

You stand at the porch in silence, the sound of the bass can be heard faintly through the walls. The stickiness of your shirt is now long forgotten; you've given up thinking about it when the memory of your ex comes back. There are more pressing matters at hand that need your attention.

Like the upcoming fashion week, no doubt will get you into another spiral of self-doubt and stress. Like your parents who keep insisting you meet this one young, handsome bachelor that apparently would be just your type—but you're still hurt by Maki's action that you haven't found the right timing to say yes. Like your favourite cherry Chanel baby tee, now ruined and stained, and you wonder if you should send it for dry cleaning or pay a fortune to scalpers—

"Miss?"

A deep timbre greets your hearing. It's soft and a tad bit familiar, like you've heard it somewhere before.

You turn around and immediately frown when you see him.

It's that perverted alpha.

"What?" You reply, already annoyed. The alpha blinks at you, looking more sober than before. His collar is folded neatly now, and the red tips of his ears are hinting more on shyness than alcohol influence.

He gives you a nervous smile. "I came to apologise."

Tch. Another performative alpha. But this one likes to stare at your chest too much.

You roll your eyes and turn back to the front, wishing for your driver to arrive fast.

"Just save your breath and go. You don't even know what you're apologising for."

One thing you hate about men, especially alphas, is that they never mean their sorry's. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything'. Everything is too generic. They don't have any idea what they apologise for. The phrase has lost its value from how often it flows out of their mouths without meaning.

But this alpha is a bit more stubborn than you think. He shuffles closer, still keeping a safe distance, and stands next to you. Now closer, you can smell the citrusy scent wafting from him—sharp and refreshing, something that reminds you of summer. It has to be his pheromones.

Well, okay. He has sexy pheromones. You'll admit that. Too bad that the owner is already on your blacklist.

"I apologise for spilling my drinks on you and ruining your baby tee," he begins, turning his body facing you. But you refuse to look.

"It's the Limited Edition Cherry Chanel baby tee," you correct him. From your peripheral vision, you can faintly see him grin.

"Yes, I'm sorry for ruining your Limited Edition Cherry Chanel baby tee."

Okay. He's obedient. But it could be performative. Maybe he's just trying to get into your pants. You're not oblivious to how beautiful you look. You know that your family has good genes.

"And I apologise for staring at your chest inappropriately. I came off as a pervert even when I didn't mean to," he breathes out, voice lowering down in shame. "I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable."

Something tugs at your heart unexpectedly. It surprises you that this alpha actually knows what he's apologising for, unlike your previous exes who only said sorry to get your nagging self off their backs. You shift slightly, unwilling to let this new change get to your head.

"Well, apology heard," you retort, still strong on not letting the alpha get too close—or accepting his apology. "But I'm not sorry for slapping you. So don't expect an apology from me."

An amused chuckle slips past his lips. His lemon scent bursts in the air, sounding too elated for your liking.

What's so funny?

"I guess I deserved it," the alpha, whose name you just realise you never know, replies as he touches his cheek with a brush of his fingers. You take a glance, satisfaction blooming in your chest when you notice the red mark on the tender skin.

That's what alphas like him deserve. Omegas run the world anyway.

You don't bother to say anything, just letting the cold breeze of night wind engulf you. It seeps into your bones, making you shiver almost too aggressively. The driver is still five minutes away, taking suspiciously long time at the red light just in front of a Burger King drive-thru.

You feel eyes on you before you feel his movements. The alpha sheds his trench coat, brushing wrinkles off the fabric before he hands it to you. You almost sigh, both out of relief and annoyance because really, you could use some extra layers right now but seriously, does it have to be in the most cliche, K-drama-worthy situation ever?

"What is this," you flatly ask, unimpressed.

"You're cold."

"How did you know that I'm cold?"

You watch the tip of his ears blush, and then his eyes traitorously drop to your chest before quickly lift up to face you again.

"I just…noticed."

You roll your eyes before looking down. "I know it's soaked, and it's—"

The words die on your tongue.

Your nipples. They're erect from the cold, mounting the thin, drenched fabric of your shirt in deadly-obvious pebbles. You brain dissolves into incoherent blabbering as a heat of embarrassment creeps up your neck. It's seriously the worst day ever to choose not wearing a bra.

You don't know if it's shame, or anger, or both, but when you look up to the now-blushing alpha, there's rage boiling over like a kettle about to whistle.

"I fucking knew it!" You couldn't hold yourself back this time, snatching the coat and smacking the alpha with the fabric. The alpha's eyes widen as he cowers to dodge your attack.

"You're just a pervert!"

"I-I'm not! I'm sorry—ow! Ow!"

You don't relent and keep hitting him with his coat, tears of shame threatening to spill over.

"What are you sorry for, you performative wolf?!" Smack! Smack! "You just ogled at my chest again!"

"I didn't mean to—ow! I'm sorry!"

With one final hit, you throw the coat at his face with all your might. He clumsily catches it, eyes wide with shock. The anger is hot, too hot that the cold doesn't bother you anymore, in fact you think steam might rise from your head in any second. With a huff, you stomp down the porch, ignoring his cries of sorry's from behind.

"I-I'm sorry! It's a misunderstanding! I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable again!"

"Shut the fuck up! You better not show your face anymore!" You flip him off without looking back.

However, upon seeing the Uber driver, you take a U-turn and stomp back to the alpha. His eyes immediately light up, there's a thin layer of moisture in his eyes. Maybe the coat hit his eyes or he's just so performative he'd cry if he could, you don't really care.

"You came back," he breathes out. "I'm sorry—"

"I said shut up!" You yell, already too irritated and overstimulated. While you're at it—embarrassing yourself to the point of no return—you snatch his trench coat and sling it over your chest shamelessly.

The driver is also an alpha, and you're not risking flashing your tits to another pervert.

"I'm taking this. Bye!"

"Wait!"

"And I am NOT returning it!"

With a harsh slam of the door, the car finally drives into the horizon, leaving behind a confused and guilty and perverted alpha as he chases after your Uber. Your chest heaves deeply, adrenaline running hot as your face flushes. You pretend not to notice the bag of chips and burger in the driver's lap, or the way the perverted alpha stands smaller in the side mirror as he watches you leave.

You just hope you never see that alpha again.

You never see that alpha again. However, as if you had personally offended the Earth and the entire Solar system, the Goddess doubles it down and sends your cheating ex to your studio instead.

His presence is too invasive that you feel him before you see him. His pheromones, now making your hair stand instead of providing the comfort that it used to do, breaches your senses when you round the corner. You had just stepped out to get some lunch, already grumpy from resisting your persistent mom and her chosen alpha for you to mate, when you see Maki walk down the hallway like it was his runway.

Your stomach drops. Like it's survival instinct, you turn back around and speed-walk to your studio. It's like a drum war being hit inside your chest, and you hope you're fast enough because you really, really don't want to deal with him right now.

Just as you're about to close the door, a force of Maki's hands pushes it back open. You stumble backwards, eyes wide in surprise as Maki effortlessly slips inside. His body, tall and wrong and crowding, swallows the room like a black hole sucking in the light and leaving you empty and alone in the darkness.

There's a lazy smirk playing at his lips.

"If it's not my favourite ex."

His voice is dripping with honey, a sweet poison that always gets to you no matter how hard you pretend it doesn't. It's sticky and uncomfortable, it makes you squirm and feel like there's something you should be scrambling for. It gets under your skin and Maki always gets the reaction that he wants.

You snap, face pulling into a scowl.

"What do you want, Maki?"

Maki lets your voice fade, acting like he didn't hear you. With his hands in the pockets of his jeans, the young alpha straightens, easy eyes meeting your sharp ones. And when he speaks, the words roll off his tongue so smoothly, like seeing the person he used to love didn't affect him the slightest. Like you didn't have such an impact on him the way he does you.

"Did I cheat, Y/N?"

The question strikes you dumb for a moment, but you recover quickly. Of course. Words spread fast on campus, especially if the source is the frat house. You knew it'd reach Maki eventually, but you didn't expect it to be this fast. It's like every person inside that house was an extension of Maki; the golden boy, the people's favourite, the face painting every cover of magazine.

You try to hide the tremble in your fists.

"You did."

Maki hums noncommittally.

"Do you have proof?"

"Liz told me," your voice grits out, "You'd been fucking around with your new girlfriend since you were with me."

The alpha tilts his head, still wearing that laid-back expression that you wish you could slap off his face. "Did she?"

"Yes. Now get out of here, you fucking stink—"

"Why would she help you, Y/N?" Maki calmly cuts you off, a bored tone in his voice. Like he'd rather be anywhere else but here, like he'd rather deal with a child than you. His smug face makes your skin prickle. You hate how easily he can hit your nerves.

Maki takes a step closer, taunting as ever.

"Had you started thinking that you have friends now?"

It's a soft blow that lands hard in your chest. Maki used to know you, therefore he knows all the ugly parts of you. And seeing him turning every knowledge he has of you into a weapon against you feels like being forced looking into a mirror that you've spent your whole life avoiding.

Your fists shake, nails digging into soft skin, almost drawing blood.

"Even if she lied to me, you got together with your new girlfriend so quick after the breakup," you spit between gritted teeth, holding back more than words. "That told me enough."

Maki is silent for a few heartbeats, his face unreadable.

"So what?"

There's a drop in your heart. Confused, disbelieving. "What?"

"What's wrong with moving on from you so fast? You didn't think you were so special for me to weep around, did you?"

There's a vaccuumed silence that swallows you whole. His words, casually laid out like he was discussing the weather, like the matters of your heart was something he wasn't concerned about, seep into your skin and every fibre of your being. The thoughts turn and curl, igniting a numbing buzz that replays his voice like a broken record.

Special. What's so special about you?

And when even you cannot find an answer, you feel the first crack in your chest.

Maki revels in your silence; in the first sign of submission. His smugness is loud in the studio, his pheromones flaring with dominance. He advances, taking deliberate steps, circling you like a predator assessing its prey.

"You've always been like this. So fiery, so passionate. All this energy yet no particular direction to go to," he drawls out, the words tumbling out lazily. He stops right in front of you, only a few centimeters away, and makes a show of looking around your studio.

He takes in the rumpled fabric, the crumpled sketchbooks, the spilled coffee. It appears as what he just observed: too much energy with no proper control. Loud. Messy. Reckless.

You.

"You can't even keep your studio tidy, Y/N," he breathes out a sigh.

"What's so unforgettable about you?"

When you had first started fashion school, you'd been told by every living person that money couldn't buy talent. No matter how big your mother's name is in the beauty and healthcare industry, no matter how prominent your father is in the automobile sector—you're nothing more than a mundane, passing student if you don't possess talent. And here, people always feel the need to remind you of that fact, especially after learning about the affluent background you come from.

So you learned. It's not like you got here through nepotism, anyway—you got in through your own grit. Your parents had always wanted you to get into med school, and the only thing you're good with when it comes to medicines is drawing the anatomy by hand. That sketch turned into figures and furls and soon, your dream to study fashion finally bloomed.

You have the talent and you have the grit. People always pass you nice compliments and constructive feedbacks you often dwell on—but the sleepless nights didn't really matter when you could finally see your collection walking down the runway front-row. You wear your confidence loudly that sometimes it's easy to forget that some people hate shiny things.

Your designs are so forgettable.

Said the new lecturer one day, tearing your sketchbook apart in front of the whole class came the third semester.

It was humiliating; the kind that burned your skin and the back of your eyes. Your nails cracked under pressure, trying so hard not to shed tears in front of so many pairs of eyes. But no matter how hard you try to reassure yourself, the comment lingers. It becomes an invisible knife that twists each time someone so much as look at your designs the wrong way.

And the first mistake you did was open up about it to someone.

The second mistake was that someone was Maki, of all people.

Because now, that alpha—all pride and arrogance—is throwing back the exact same insult at you right in your reddening face.

What's so unforgettable about you?

What's so unforgettable about you?

What's so unforgettable about you?

"Nothing," Maki finishes, eyes never leaving your face, as if savouring every twitch of hurt in your features.

There's nothing unforgettable about you. Not your designs; someone else probably invented something far more interesting than you. Not your face; you're just another pretty omega in a sea of more pretty omegas. Not your scent; you smell like pastries that people can easily get from any bakery. And certainly not you as a whole.

That's what he meant by it, right?

You're just a plus-one. An afterthought. The reason why skip buttons exist.

A heavy lump forms in your throat.

Maki takes your silence as a win and steps back.

"Now be a good girl and retract your statement. I never cheated on you," he says with conviction that you start questioning your own truth. "It's just your omega hormones messing around with you."

The door closes with a thud, leaving behind a ringing silence, the echo of his insults bouncing off the walls. There's a thin veil of moisture in your eyes, but you refuse to cry.

You refuse to cry for the rest of your time in your studio, trying to fix some of the mess, hating yourself even more when you realise that you care about his comments more than you should.

You refuse to cry on your way home, sitting in silence at the backseat of your Uber, replaying Maki's words in an endless loop that you wish could stop.

You refuse to cry when you have nothing to eat for dinner, stomach growling in hunger for some warm, homecooked meals, yet you have to settle for takeout again.

You refuse to cry when you sit in the middle of your living room, a luxury apartment far too big for one person to live in, trying to eat the soggy noodles and too-drenched fried chicken.

But like any normal human being, you have a heart too—a soft one at that. You can only hold on for so long.

It's hard to ignore the vast, empty space of your apartment; of the two vacant rooms down the hallways; of the single mug, single cutlery set, single-everything because for some reason you half-know and half-not, you just don't have…friends. At least not those who can reach the depths of your being—just fleeting, surface-level friends. Or companion.

Or whatever it was that Maki said that finally got to your head.

The dam finally breaks when you enter your room.

For the first time in your life, your nest that you always keep tidy on the love couch you have by the window, your safe haven where you lie in to find comfort, becomes the spot that you want to avoid the most.

There, arranged into a circle, are all the things that smell like solace and consolation after a rough day—or at least used to. Maki used to be like that—used to be your person, used to be your comfort place. So it's almost pathetic that you are still clinging onto his hoodie, his sweatshirt, the mittens he gave you last winter, the plush bunny that he won at an arcade, for comfort long after the breakup happened.

God, you didn't even want that bunny. You wanted the black cat.

You pick up his hoodie. It's the one he asked you to wear during a movie night, the one he received as a gift from GAP after a modelling gig with them. With shaky hands, you press your nose into the fabric, trying to catch the person who used to care for you—the person he was before he is now.

His scent lingers, faint and fading, but it's still there. Pine and frost, cold and sharp as his features. But instead of the warm feeling that you used to get, his scent makes your stomach twist and churn, a bile rising behind your throat.

The first drop of tears slides down your cheek.

He's no longer your safe space. Hadn't been since that breakup. Hadn't been since the night he kissed another woman behind your back.

Without thinking, you throw the hoodie on the floor. The fabric lands with a soundless thud, but the indication is loud regardless. When you look back at the love couch, the sight almost breaks you into pieces.

Your nest is all destroyed.

With a cry of fury, you lunge, hands tearing his sweatshirt apart next. At your force, the plush bunny tilts sideway, further breaking the perfect circle that used to be your nest.

"It's just a nest," your voice trembles, but the words ring hollow. Inside, your wolf twists and turns, aggressively shaking her head.

A nest is never just a nest.

"I don't care!" you shout, stomping on the plush bunny. "It's not like—it's not like anything would ever comfort me anymore."

Your knees buckle, too worn after carrying the weight of your inner battles for so long. You slump on the floor, sobs wrecking your chest, the sound raw and scratched. As if on instinct, you bring your knees close to your chest, staring at the mess with a solemn, teary gaze.

You don't even know what you're crying for. It's not like you still have feelings for Maki; or at least, there's no positive feelings for him except for lingering resentment and a strong sense of betrayal.

Is it because what the destroyed nest symbolises?

That you're nothing but a lonely, easily-discarded omega?

That nothing will ever be safe enough for you to rely on anymore?

You might act strong on the outside and bite every bullet with squared shoulders, but if only they knew what you truly feel inside.

If only they knew.

A loud, shrill ringing from your phone cuts you off your silent misery. You drag your body to where your mattress is located at the center of your bedroom, your mom's contact name blinking to be picked up.

With a wipe on your cheeks and a sniffle, you answer the phone.

"My lovely daughter! How are you? Are you eating well, sweetheart?"

I just destroyed my nest. "I'm good, Mom. Just had dinner."

"Come visit this weekend! I'll send our chauffeur to you. I'm planning to—"

"Mom."

You look around your room. At the space that feels too big to fill in, the discarded fabric on the floor. Then, at your disheveled reflection in the mirror.

"Yes, daughter?"

You bite your lower lip, trembling. You look like a mess. Just like what Maki had said.

"I wanna go home."

There's a split second of silence before your mom's voice echoes again.

"You mean you wanna move back here, sweetheart?"

"Mhm," you almost sniffle but you catch yourself, not wanting to give yourself away. "I wanna live with you again."

"Oh, my! That means you agree that alpha, don't you?"

Sigh. You almost forgot about that. The silly condition your pouty mom makes if you ever want to live with them again. One that you've been trying to avoid, too busy with the fashion week preparation and planning revenge on your heartbreak.

But is there really anything to lose?

If you agree, you'll be in close proximity with what you'd say your comfort: your family, and the mansion you used to grow up in. A blind date is just free dinner and having an alpha shower your with praises and compliments. You might have to put up with a little bit of boasting here and there, but it's nothing you can't handle.

So long as you can escape this loneliness, even if only for temporary…

"Yeah," you breathe out. "I'll meet him."

Just let me go home to you, Mom.

Park Jongseong's cheek is still stinging.

But instead of acting like any other man who just got slapped would, he's wearing a giddy smile on his face. He's lying down on the couch, his apartment being the hangout spot of the day for the weekend, but thoughts about his friends are scattered away. Jay is absolutely gone and lost in cloud nine, a cherry-shaped cloud wearing the face of a certain beautiful omega that has been running on his mind as of late.

"Geez, this guy has turned crazy," Sunoo shakes his head before he nudges the older alpha. "Jay-hyung, I brought some ice packs for your cheek."

Jay absentmindedly reaches out his hand, barely registering his friend's words. "Sunoo-ya, Britney Spears was right."

Confusion knits Sunoo's brows closer. "Britney-noona?"

Jay hums. "I want her to hit me one more time."

Sunoo gives him a deadpanned look and then shoves the ice pack in his face. Jay yelps from the sudden cold contact.

"Ow!"

"Well, if you can't find her, I'm more than willing and capable to hit you one more time in her stead."

The older alpha huffs, pressing the cold compress into his swollen cheek. "You don't understand, Sunoo," he defends, "Her hands were so soft and she's so….beautiful."

"She slapped you."

"I deserved it."

"Yeah, cause you were ogling at her chest."

"I—" Jay gulps. Well, now it doesn't sound so good. "I mean…yeah, I did. I stared too long, in fact. That's why I said I deserved it."

Even while saying so, there's still this stupid smile decorating his handsome face. Sunoo can only shake his head, hands on his hips like a tired mom handling her teenage son's first underage drinking. It sounds that bad because it was that bad.

"I can't believe this is the end of Jay-hyung's gentleman era," Riki snorts from the floor. He's been hogging Jay's latest edition of PlayStation all to himself, secretly eavesdropping the two alpha's conversation.

Jay doesn't take it nicely. "What do you mean? I am still me."

"Mhm. Gentleman by day, boob enthusiast by night. Totally not a pervert."

Jay is open to criticism, especially anything to improve himself. But there's nothing to improve here. Jay is just…in love. Okay, that's a bit too soon. Jay is infatuated would be the best way to describe his situation right now because there's no doubt that he, as in human-Jay, and his wolf, like you.

Yes, in a romantic way. Yes, in a 'he wants to court you' way. Yes, in a 'I need her name and a priest now because he does hope he can marry you' way.

He's everything but he's not a pervert. No. And Jay has a hard time receiving criticism about his personality if it comes from a certain alpha named Nishimura Riki, and another alpha named Lee Heeseung. Call it pettiness or a vendetta, but those two have no right to say shit about him. Right now or ever.

Beside him, Sunoo starts to sigh. "Riki."

"What? At least we know why omegas like you now."

Jay's expression hardens. There's a twitch in his jaw that doesn't go unnoticed by Sunoo.

"What do you mean by that?"

Riki, still not sensing the sudden drop of temperature in the room, casually shrugs. "I'm saying maybe you've always been looking. Heeseung-hyung and I knew better."

A heavy silence blankets the room, suffocating each corner with unspoken rage. Sunoo almost recoils from the sudden bitterness that comes from Jay's pheromones. He casts a worried glance at the wounded alpha.

"Yeah." Jay lets out a quiet laugh. "Because both of you thought I'd steal your omegas."

Riki goes rigid. He puts down the console, finally registering the damage that came out of his mouth. He whips his head around, only to be met with a sharp glare from Jay.

"Jay-hyung…"

"No, let's talk about it." Jay gently pushes away Sunoo's hands that come up to comfort him, putting down the ice pack with calm fury that radiates more heat than if he had shouted. He fixes Riki with a burning glare that could've melted the ice pack.

"Let's talk about how I am always the collateral damage of your love story."

Riki gulps. Truthfully, he has never seen Jay angry. And even when he did, that anger was never directed to him. But this time, being the receiving end of such disappointed eyes, Riki wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

"Jay-hyung, you know I don't mean it like that."

"Which part? The pervert part? Because you and Heeseung surely treat me like one whenever your omegas are around," Jay says, still soft, but the venom is there. "As if I was some horny wolf waiting for the time to pounce on them. Let me ask you, Riki. What was so wrong with wanting to help you when you literally asked me for help?"

"I—I know. You're never wrong—" Riki swallows, too paralysed from how fast the situation took its bad turn. "I just…shit. I'm sorry, hyung. You're such a good alpha—"

"Am I, really? Because with you two, I never feel like one."

Riki tries to say something back, mouth gaping like fish out of water. Jay heaves out a long sigh, ruffling his already-messy hair. As if on cue, the door to his apartment opens and comes in Heeseung, whose eyes immediately widen in alarm upon sensing the tension in the living room.

"What are we fighting about?"

"About your terrible jealousy issues," Jay grits through his teeth, looking up to meet eyes with Heeseung. The latter almost flinches from how sharp his gaze is. Jay takes another deep breath.

"God, you know what? I understand jealousy. I truly do. I wouldn't want any alpha near my omega too. But that would be any alpha but you two. Because I trust you. I trust you so much and it actually," Jay halts for a moment, realising how intense his emotions have been running. But the reassuring pat from Sunoo serves as his motivation.

He needs to say this. He needs to. Otherwise he'd drown in undeserving guilt and shrink himself again.

"It actually hurts when you guys don't feel the same about me."

The tension thickens it could be cut with a knife. Riki's expression crumples, the alpha who's usually prideful and cocky is now in shambles upon seeing his older alpha breaking down like this. Heeseung fails to find any words, the guilt is lodged in his throat that barely any voice would come out, blocking any syllables from being spoken.

"I just wanted to help. My kindness has no underlying meanings. I didn't offer to help because I wanted to have your omega in bed, Riki. I was thinking about you. I was thinking how I could stop you from crying because you were my friend first and it—it hurt to see you cry so much like that."

Jay is still soft. His voice is still gentle, and that's what makes this whole situation uglier. That's what makes the guilt press harder. Both alphas in question could only stare at their feet, reflecting on their actions towards Jay.

"And you, Heeseung. Would you rather have your mate get soaked that night?" Jay doesn't let him answer. "I don't think you would. I couldn't just leave knowing she'd get drenched in the rain, knowing how much my friend cherishes her and would freak out if she got sick."

Heeseung purses his lips. He was so busy mending what was broken with his omega that he didn't realise how much he's been hurting his friend.

The apartment is silent, save for the PlayStation menu playing its music on loop. Riki can't bring himself to look at Jay, perfectly fine with tucking his chin low and hiidng his shame. Heeseung still has a hand on the doorknob, the metal feels cold on his slippery palm.

"Jay-ah…"

"I'll be in my room. I want to be alone for a moment."

The anger has long left his body. All he feels now is exhaustion and relief, like finally putting back a heavy backpack he's been carrying for months.

The three watch as Jay disappears behind the door of his master bedroom. It closes with a gentle click, as if even in anger and disappointment, Jay wouldn't ever be harsh to his friends. Heeseung and Riki immediately let out a breath they didn't know they were holding while Sunoo watches them with amusement.

"It took him a lot of courage to say that, you know." Sunoo takes a seat on the couch, grabbing the console that was left untouched by Riki. "You guys better apologise and make up to him properly."

"I am such an asshole," Riki whines and drapes his body across the couch, letting his head fall into Sunoo's lap despite his protest. "Hyung was right. It's all about trust. And I was acting like an insecure dog."

Sunoo snorts. "You're a big puppy, Riki."

Heeseung is still quiet. The memory of the punch that almost landed on Jay's face still haunts him, even before the confrontation. He knew it needed to be talked about eventually, he just didn't expect it to be in a situation like this. But alas, Jay has been a sponge that absorbs everybody's emotions, the reliable one—it's about time that the patient alpha loses it.

Just as he's about to enter the apartment fully, the door is suddenly pushed open from behind and Heeseung gets shoved inside instead. Immediately, the smell of burnt chocolate fills the air and the insults he prepares for the intruder die on his tongue.

"Sunoo-hyung!" Jungwon barges in, a pout protruding on his lips. "Noona called me his little brother again!"

Oh, Goddess of the Moon. Please protect this friendship.

Heeseung walks silently to his room, ignoring the trio alpha now fighting for Sunoo's attention. Jungwon, however, upon seeing Riki, immediately scowls at the younger. His pout disappears and his complaints die in his throat.

"YOU! Nishimura Riki. You're not cheating, aren't you?"

Riki blinks confusedly.

"Cheating? In FIFA or PUBG?"

"On your girlfriend!"

"Fuck, no!" The blond-haired alpha sits up, taking full offence from the sudden accusation. "I would jump off the cliff first before I'd ever dare cheat on my lovely mate. What the fuck are you on? You know I'm loyal as fuck."

Sunoo pinches his arm. "That's too many curse words, Riki."

Jungwon shakes his head. He pushes the younger off the couch and claims his previous spot, laying his head comfortably on Sunoo's lap. The scandalised look on Riki's face hasn't faded, the alpha is still glaring at Jungwon like he has offended Riki's ancestors.

"Nothing. There was just this omega yelling about getting cheated on during last Friday's party."

"And? What does that have to do with me?"

"The cheater's name is also Riki! You don't know how disappointed and heartbroken I was for those three seconds when I thought it was Nishimura Riki. It turned out to be Hirota Riki," Jungwon nudges Sunoo's hand, urging the older to pat his head. He's still heartbroken, please comfort him, thank you. "I was so close to committing a murder on you that night."

With that explanation, a look of understanding passes Riki's face. He slumps and sprawls on the floor, relief bleeding out of his muscle.

"Oh. That's Maki. Riki C. He's the disgraceful Riki. I don't fuck with him. Not anymore."

"You better not!" Jungwon hisses at him like an angry kitten.

"Wait, so you're Riki B?" Sunoo tilts his head. One of his hands is playing with Jungwon's hair. "Then who is Riki A?"

"The other Riki is Taki, and no, I am Riki D, because this dick—"

"Nishimura Riki!" Sunoo and Jungwon simultaneously yell, drawing out a cheeky laugh from the youngest.

From inside his room, Heeseung could hear the commotion. He shakes his head. Oh, Goddess of the Moon. Please save Nishimura Riki.

Living with your parents has been as peaceful as it can get. Nothing much can be said, considering that it has only been a week.

For the time being, you manage to get your mom off your back about meeting this handsome alpha that she'd like to have as a son-in-law. You hide behind the excuse of being busy with the fashion week, which is not totally a lie.

Fashion week is one of the biggest assessments there is. It means two months of outsourcing high-quality fabrics, sketching and crumpling papers and sketching, hours spent in the studio, finding suitable models for your runway and, the most important part: piecing your imagination and hardwork into a clothing worth wearing and parading.

Which is why you're spending your time in the studio on a Saturday, leisurely going over your sketches again as you wait for your fabrics to arrive. It had been preordered a month ago and the delivery was scheduled today. Precisely, two hours ago.

But you try not to worry. It's only 12 p.m., and there's probably traffic on the road since the working civilians are supposed to be having lunch now. But one hour turns into two. Then another one passes.

Before you know it, it's almost five in the evening, yet there's no sight of a truck or even a ring from the company itself. By the time you dial their office number, you have already done a cherry set on your nails, tidied up the space to accommodate your resources, and even sketched a whole damn new collection.

"Hello, this is The Nakakita. How may I help you?"

The Nakakita. A Japanaese establishment that is owned by the Nakakita family. You wouldn't have gotten in touch with such a prestigious supplier of the Japanese fabric materials had it not been for your cheating ex's connection in the fashion industry.

Maki is all things, and resourceful is one of them.

"Good evening. I'm Y/N. There's supposed to be a delivery for order #1284 today to my studio. Japanese denim, linen cotton, blended silk?"

Well, you might have sounded too demanding. But that's the least of your concern now.

"Oh, Miss Y/N. I'm terribly sorry, but this order was cancelled."

If your jaw could drop down to the ground right now, it would cause a huge-scale earthquake across the city.

"What? I never cancelled it, though?"

There is a sound of clicking on the keyboard from the end of the line. "Um…it was cancelled by the account holder two weeks ago. By Mr. Hirota Riki, approved by the heir himself, Mr. Nakakita Yuma."

What the actual fuck. Two weeks ago was when Maki had confronted you about the rumour spreading about his infidelity. Despite feeling a bit intimidated (not that you'd ever admit), you did no such thing and let his reputation continue to get tarnished. You still firmly believe that he did cheat and whatever manipulation he pulled on you was just an attempt at making you feel miserable.

Not only is his ego as big as he is and a gaslighter, but he is petty, too?!

You let out a disbelieving scoff. Oh my Goddess…That alpha is really something else. As if shattering your dream of having a mate wasn't enough, now he wants to interfere with your career path as well?

What a fucking weirdo.

"So, what happened to all those fabrics? I already paid for the deposit."

"Based on this record, it has been delivered to Miss Kim Areum three days ago and your money is in the process of being refunded back to your bank account."

And as if all of those things weren't enough to pull you under, Maki just has to deliver the final blow to the most sensitive part of your heart.

Of course he'd give those resources to his new girlfriend. Of fucking course.

It's like a cellotape on skin. Peeling it off would sting, taking away your body hair that gives you heat, and leaving sticky residue that wouldn't come off easily. Your relationship with Maki—during and after the breakup—has always left you with this hollow, sinking feeling that weighs heavy on your shoulders.

No matter what you did, if the relationship has ended or not, it'll always leave burn marks that you have been trying so hard to heal. And whether the world has moved on or not, it's always you bearing the ugly aftermath.

"…Miss?"

"I see," you finally speak, voice hoarse from suppressed anger. "Let Yuma know that my attorney will be in contact with your team soon."

"Wait—"

Not letting them finish, you end the call and toss your phone on the couch. Your perfectly blowed hair is now disheveled, untamed by your fingers as you pace the room. There's unshed tears hanging low on your waterline, waiting for the time to fall down, yet you still refuse to give in.

"Fuck!"

It's so unfair. It's so fucking unfair. It wasn't you who left, nor was it you who cheated and being disloyal—yet you are the one who have to pay the price for his crumpling ego? And now he's putting your hard-earned place in the fashion school on the line?

What a fucking manchild.

"What am I supposed to do? Goddess, help me—what am I supposed to do?"

You sink into the couch, the tears now slide down your cheeks with no restraints. There's a choked sob coming out of your throat, your scent souring with every hiccup slipping past your lips.

Time is not a luxury that you can afford now. Confronting Maki would only mess with your head more and result in nothing. You'd love to find a way to sue The Nakakita, but that's a matter that you'd like to solve after the fashion week ends.

Fuck. You barely have two months on your hands, yet you have just lost your resources that you have ordered a month ago. Finding a new supplier would be tough—since not many of them would take indiviual customers due to economies of scale. You are no wholesaler or retailer; catering to you would be expensive for them.

But you have to find a way somehow.

With a shaky hand, you tuck your hair behind your ears and grab your laptop. The tears are uncontrollable at this point, but it's not a sign to give up or stop. Your dainty fingers start typing fast on the keyboard, trying to search for any textile businesses that would make some space for you.

This is not how you imagine your evening would end. You had pictured measuring and cutting fabric pieces to fit your six-piece collection, getting prepared to start assembling them and fitting your models.

Yet here you are, giving calls after calls, accepting rejection after rejection from every business you try to contact. It's exhausting, the tears are now just cracked vulnerbaility on your cheeks. Somewhere along the way, you have accidentally snapped your manicured nails while typing.

"I'm sorry, you have to place an order three months prior in order to secure the fabrics."

This is the sixth one.

You barely hold back a sigh. "I see. Thank you for your time."

You slam your phone on the couch and start rubbing your face. This is hell. You're sure a truck had hit you somewhere on the road and this is your hell, punishing you for being such a bitchy omega to everyone around you.

But how could you not be one when everybody always gives you a reason to protect yourself?

Taking in a shuddering breath, you open your bleary eyes and stare at another line of name on the screen.

Sinar Textile.

It's operating until 8 p.m., which is unusual for many companies. Talking about the time, your stomach growls on instinct, as if reminding you of the skipped lunch and forgotten dinner that you are yet to acknowledge.

"This is the last one," you whisper to yourself. "If this too fails, I will fucking kill Maki."

You punch the number on your phone screen, exhaustion clinging to every movement. It's inhumane to sabotage someone like this; you wonder if you can sue Maki too somehow. He deserves it more than anyone in this world.

It takes five rings before the call gets picked up. A cheery voice greets you.

"Good evening! I am Jake from Sinar Textile. How can I help you?"

You rub your temple, appreciating the friendly tone while it lasts before you start threatening this poor Jake to agree to your proposal.

"Hi. I'm Y/N. I'm looking for a few bolts of fabric for my upcoming collection."

A rustle is heard from Jake's side. "Hello, Miss Y/N. When do you need the fabrics?"

You tap your fingers on your thigh. "Two weeks from now."

There's a few seconds of silence before Jake speaks again. "Are you a wholesaler or a retailer?"

I fucking knew it. "Um," you gnaw at your bottom lip, nerves grating your edges. "Neither. I'm in fashion school, and I need them for my fashion week."

Please. Please accept me. Please take my request. Oh Goddess, this is the least you can do for justice.

But unfortunately, Jake is not your Goddess. "I am sorry, Miss Y/N, but our business strictly provides for wholesaling and retailing establishments only. As for indivi—"

"Please," you let out before you could stop yourself. "I'll take scraps or leftovers. Or even any cancelled order. I'll take anything but please don't turn me down."

You are never one to beg. Especially not to alphas. And while you're not sure about Jake's secondary gender, he's still a man and it still feels humiliating to beg.

But you don't have many choices now, do you? You care more about your degree than your dignity as of now.

The hesitance in Jake's silence is loud. "Miss Y/N, I am a mere part-timer here. I'm afraid I don't have the power to decide."

"Then let me talk to the person in charge, please."

You feel bad for Jake for putting him in a tough spot like this. But to be fair, he's receiving your kindest energy now—since you've lashed out on many other receptionists prior to this call, when you were still brimming with anger.

"Please wait a moment."

You inhale sharply. Is this really happening?

It doesn't take long before a feminine voice takes over the call. "Hello. You're speaking to the CEO of Sinar Textile. I am Mrs. Park."

You straighten up. "H-Hello, Mrs. Park. I apologise for the late disturbance."

The woman hums. "It is not a big deal. My receptionist has told me about your situation. Unfortunately, we do not supply for individuals like you."

The hope blooming in your chest deflates instantly. You close your eyes as you gather your composure.

"I—Please, ma'am. I don't know how to tell you that I desperately need them for my fashion week." For a strange reason, you feel yhe need to give her context. You're no careless student who forgot to book her supplier until last minute—you just got sabotaged. "My supplier terminated our agreement after my…ex-boyfriend intervened."

The woman seems to consider this, as her next words give you a sliver of hopium. "Please email me your sketches. Then I will consider. What's your name again, Miss?"

"Y/N. I am Y/N."

"Y/N?" She repeats, and if you tried to listen hard enough, you'd be able to detect the hint of recognition in her tone. "Great, Miss Y/N. Email me at [email protected], then I will let you know my decision."

Relief floods your senses like a tidal wave. With trembling lips, you try to piece your words together.

"Thank you, Mrs. Park. I—I'll take anything. Leftovers—or any defects. I can do it. Please consider my request."

"No worries, Miss Y/N. I'll get back to you the soonest tomorrow."

And with that, the call ends. You slump in your seat.

You could've gotten the details of their wholesale customers and buy from them, but from experience, you knew that getting the materials directly from the sources is hundreds time better in terms of quality and the price. And you have reports to submit much later on, where your budgeting would be questioned like you just laundered the national income.

Later that night, you arrive home with this aching need to be comforted. Instead of a pile of all the soothing scents you've encountered in your life, you open the door to your empty bed, void of any nest. Your mom's bedroom is just one door away, but it's too late to ask for cuddles, isn't it?

You open your wardrobe, staring at the empty spot where your nesting blankets used to be.

"It's just a nest," you convince yourself. "I'll feel better after waking up."

Completely ignoring the twisting pain in your gut, you settle yourself under the cover after washing up.

Sundays are fun days, and this time, your kind of fun is rushing your chauffeur to take you to your studio and threatening him into disregarding every traffic rule he's ever learned about.

"Miss, the light is red."

"I don't care."

"We will get fined."

"I will pay," you urge.

The chauffeur closes his eyes. "Please don't tell your mother."

And that's how a fifteen-minute drive could be cut into ten minutes of ride only. Your thanks barely leaves your lips as you rushes out, trying your best to look put-together while also lightly sprinting to the private studio that you've rented since your first year, located inside the university compound.

This morning, you woke up to an email from Sinar Textile. Mrs. Park, bless her heart—seems so taken with your sketches and has decided to give you some leftovers of their previous arriving batch from Japan. It's like the Goddess has finally taken pity on you overnight, and proving that the evil shall perish altogether (Fuck you, Maki).

You spend the entire ride mentally redesigning half your collection. Leftovers are more than enough. You'll make them work. You always do.

By the time you reach the studio, your mood has improved significantly.

There are bolts of fabric, stacked near the door to your studio. Two men wearing short-sleeved Polo stand around the stack, chatting with each other while waiting for your arrival. You waste not even a second and approach them faster.

"Good morning!" You greet them enthusiastically, so unusually you, but you're too giddy to care. "Are you from Sinar Textile?"

The shorter of the two greets you back, a puppylike smile stretching wide on his face. "Hello! You must be Miss Y/N. I'm Jake, and this is Sunghoon. We are the part-timers from Sinar Textile."

The latter bows to you. Up close, you finally notice the wolf ears nestling among his pitch-black hair. Oh, so he's a wolf hybrid. No wonder his pheromones are still strong to your nose despite the thick scent patch glued to his neck.

Well, first of all—Sinar Textile sure hires only super good-looking guys to work with them. If you weren't so into your post-breakup feelings, you might think about asking for their numbers after this.

"Nice to meet you two. Now, shall we?"

"We're waiting for Jay."

Your brow jumps at that. Who is that? "Jay? Is he supposed to be here?"

"Yeap! He went to take the last bolt of your Japanese denim—oh there he is!"

You know the saying, every good thing comes with a price? While yes, there is a price tag to every bolt of fabric tha you receive from Sinar Textile today—apparently, there is a hidden tax that you have to pay the Goddess for granting you with this opportunity after Maki's stupid stunt yesterday.

And that tax is Jay. Or more precisely, if your memory hasn't betrayed you—the pervert alpha from the frat house party a few weeks ago.

There he is indeed, walking down the hallway in a similar black Polo shirt. He's carrying a bolt of Japanese denim, but does he have to carry it on his shoulder like that? It looks so show-off-y, what with the way his biceps stretch against the sleeves, bulging muscle straining under the weight of the fabric. His face is as handsome as you remember it, and without the dim light of the porch, every cut of his face is clearer for your eyes to see now in broad daylight.

Damn it. Why does he have to be so infuriatingly good-looking?

Your smile has never dropped so fast, but it's the opposite case for the alpha, because as soon as he recognises you—you've never seen a smile light up so fast.

"Cherry?"

You could barely tone down your irritation. Who the hell is Cherry?

"Are you the other part-timer?"

Jay blinks confusedly. He glances at the clipboard in his hand, and then his eyes widen imperceptibly.

"Oh—I apologise. You're Miss Y/N, right?"

"Yes, that's me," you narrow your eyes at him. But Jay only smiles back. "And you are Jay."

His eyes shine—what the heck?—at the mention of his name. "You know my name? It's actually Park Jongseong, but you can call me Jay. It sounds better when you say it."

You try to ignore the offended gasp coming from Jake.

"Are you flirting with me?"

"I'm not!" Jay is fast to deflect, shaking his head when you only stare at him thretaeningly. "I just—I think—I just want to…talk to you?"

Jake and Sunghoon wince from sheer awkwardness.

"Aren't you here for Sinar Textile?"

"Yes."

"Then we're here strictly for business. I am going to open my door and you three will carry the bolts inside, and then you leave. Understand?"

If Jay were to have wolf ears like Sunghoon, they'd droop like wilting flowers from your tone alone. "I understand," he gives in, then shoots a serious look at two of his friends behind you.

"Boys, let's get moving!"

Jake springs up with a salute. "Aye aye, captain!"

You sigh and unlock the door to give way to them. The three boys lift two bolts at the same time, marching in like soldiers ready for the battlefield. Jay stops briefly in front of you, and you prepare another scolding if he tried to say something absurd again.

"Where would you like these?"

You almost falter by the unexpected, but you don't let it show. "At that corner. I tidied up that space for these bolts yesterday."

Jay nods and wordlessly steps further inside. You watch as the three men move effortlessly together, avoiding mannequins and putting down the bolts gently like true experts. They seem close, judging by how at ease they are with each other. Probably just three best friends working part-time together to kill the time while gaining extra pocket money.

Jake, being the first one to reach the corner, claps his hands and looks around. There's amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Wow, this is my first time at the fashion building and I already got to be in a private studio."

You quirk up an eyebrow. "Are you from around here?"

There's a surprised chuckle from the beta. He slaps a hand on Sunghoon's shoulder, but the wolf hybrid barely budges.

"Yeah, we attend this university too! I am from engineering, Sunghoon is from law school, and Jay is from the business department—obviously, if he wants to inherit this company."

Your curiousity is growing like a moving snowball. "Inherit…?"

"Sinar Textile is owned by his parents. He's just doing this on the weekend when he's got nothing to do with his basketball team," Jake casually says like he didn't just drop the bombest bomb you've heard the entire week.

That says a lot, considering The Nakakita incident yesterday.

And—What?! Sinar Textile is—what—so Mrs. Park is his mother?

You are left with no words. Not that you could muster anything, when said guy is already speaking. "Stop referring to me like I'm not in the same room as you."

Jake pouts at that. "Well, you're busy with your clipboard, so why not?"

"I am counting the inventory and preparing the invoice for Miss Y/N," Jay smoothly says, while he's scribbling something on the clipboard. You ignore the efficient way his hand moves, the veins popping on his forearms, and the pout he makes when he's focusing.

When he chances you a glance, you scowl back at him. The alpha only smiles.

It's so irritating. Why does he keep smiling?

"Alright boys, get back to the van. I'll follow you after I'm done with the invoice."

"Stop bossing me around! We are the same age!" Jake protests.

"Well, technically, I am your boss."

"A boss baby! You are not even the CEO yet!"

Sunghoon only sighs and drags Jake by the arm to follow him. He stops momentarily in front of you, gives you a short bow and a 'thanks'—that you reply back with a 'thanks' too, what the heck?—before he leaves with the beta. Jake waves his hand at you, his previous pout melting into a wide grin.

"See you again, Miss Y/N!!! Please invite me to your fashion week!"

If it weren't for Sunghoon's tail and wolf ears, you'd think that Jake was the hybrid. Probably golden retriever—that seems to suit him more.

It's only when Jay clears his throat that you're reminded you're left alone with him in this studio. Instinctively, you back into the door, putting more distance between the two of you. Jay doesn't seem to mind or take offence, he just gives you that easy smile that's been putting you on edge since fifteen minutes ago.

"Two bolts for Japanese denim, linen cotton, and blended silk each. This is your invoice. You may make the first payment when we send you an email," Jay speaks, his tone professional, as he hands you a piece of paper the size of A4. "Please sign here."

You take the pen painfully slowly, trying to avoid any physical contact, and sign.

"If you need anything more, please feel free to contact me." You glare at him. "Or any of us, really! But don't hesitate—my mom told me to put you on our priority list."

There he goes again. Typical alpha trying to flirt his way into your pants. As if you had forgotten about his perverted gaze a few weeks ago!

You cross your arms and dare to look into his eyes. "Thank you. I will contact Jake."

Jay purses his lips. "That's great. Jake works every Saturday and Sunday, while Sunghoon works after 3 p.m. on weekdays. Please feel free to reach out."

He opens his mouth, seemingly to add something, but decides against it when he smiles instead.

"It's actually nice to see you again," he mutters almost quietly, his tone soft and delicate, the grip of professionalism loosening. "I've been hoping I could run into you again."

But you're not easily swayed by sweet-faced alphas like him. "So you can, what, stare at my chest again?"

Jay's ears perk and blush a deep shade of pink. "What? No! Y/N—" he shakes his head, eyes pleading. "I really meant it when I said that I didn't mean to! I swear I'm not a pervert. Please forgive me."

"But you still stared."

"I…did." His voice becomes quieter, the confession feels like cold air hanging in the studio.

Jay shifts in place. The way you stare at him all cold and menacingly seems to undo him more than anything. From where he stands, he can catch a whiff of your scent—the sweet cherry that's been haunting him since that night.

You're so pretty even when you're mad, glaring at him like some kind of a criminal like this. A sight that he's not used to, because people often look at him like an angel sent from the Goddess as an apology on behalf of the alpha population.

"Y/N," he begins, already making up his mind. Your name falls easily from his lips now that he finally gets the chance to know it. "I would like to apologise. I made you feel uncomfortable twice, and probably unsafe, too. I deserved to get beaten more than what you did that night."

"Yeah, I should poke your eyes for good measure. Making sure your eyes don't stare at omegas like that again."

"I don't do that with other omegas, though. Only with you."

"So, congratulations? I'm your first victim?"

Jay panics. "No!"

"Your favourite victim?"

"No!"

"Your exclusive victim?"

"Please stop saying victim."

"Then stop staring at my boobs. You're doing it again." The corner of your lips lifts when the crimson on his ears deepens. Okay. It's kind of fun teasing him, and truthfully, you're no longer that upset from his behaviour that night.

"No, I'm sorry," Jay dips his head lower, staring at his feet, not catching your intention. "It's very wrong of me. I sincerely apologise. Please forgive me."

Your heart does something strange. The sincerity in his voice is unlike any other you've heard from not even a single alpha before. It's raw with honesty and vulnerability, like he actually spends every night dwelling on this mistake of a first impression he had made of himself.

But you say nothing. You simply stare at the alpha whose eyes are remorsely fixed on the ground.

"I know you probably don't trust me."

You snort. "Obviously."

"But I hope one day you'll feel safe around me."

There it goes again—your heart, lurching like Jay was a K-drama main lead saying something corny to win the heroine over. But this is not fiction, and Jay is not your alpha, nor are you his omega.

"Are you threatening me with a next time?"

He shifts again. "May I earn another first impression someday?"

You almost scoff at that. You wish there's no next time or someday! ...Though, you admit, if you put aside the two—or three if you count just now—times he stared at your boobs, it has been quite alright to talk to him.

He just has this aura that puts people at ease around him. Maybe it's his face, or the citrusy scent coming from him that easily tops every other masculine pheromones you have ever sniffed, but Jay just has a way with words that makes you feel like old acquaintances.

Whatever. A pervert is still a pervert!

"Actually, my family has chosen an alpha for me."

Jay's smile falters. "Oh."

You lift your chin proudly. "Yeah! Apparently his family is very wealthy, and he's ridiculously handsome too."

Jay only blinks at you, taking every hint of rejection like a champ. "I see. I mean—that's what you deserve. An omega like you doesn't deserve anything less than that."

Your eye twitches. Why is he so damn good with words? You can't tell if it's genuinelt who he is or if it's all performative. And that infuriates you.

With a newfound determination to flaunt an unknown alpha, you triumphantly nod. "And everyone says that he's the most perfect gentleman. My mom said that he's—" How was he again? "—Very capable and hardworking. I can't wait to marry him!"

Now, you're pushing it. You don't want to marry that alpha. Hell, you're just about to accept the dinner invitation after this!

"That's good…" Jay scratches his cheek. Damn it. Jay realises that you're really trying hard to reject him, even when he hasn't said explicitly that he likes you.

But Jay is a man who can take a hint.

"That's quite a reputation. I really hope he treats you well."

"He will."

Jay purses his lips, trying to swallow down his disappointment. Of course. A pretty omega like you is rarely ever single or unclaimed, even though he doesn't see any mark on your nape or sense any alpha presence around your scent.

Sigh. Just as he finally found an omega that he genuinely likes.

"I wish you and your alpha the best, Miss Y/N." Jay lowers himself to a 90-degree bow. "Thank you for trusting Sinar Textile, and I'm sorry again."

And with that, Jay takes his leave, until the echo of his footsteps fades into oblivion. Once you're confident that you're out of his earshot, you instantly fish for your phone and call your mother.

"Mom!"

"Hello darling~ Did everything go well with the shipment?"

You bite your nails. "Yes, yes it did. Mom, I need your help."

"What is it, sweetheart? Have you finally decided to buy that new handbag from Bonia?"

"No, Mom. I think," you close your eyes and sigh exasperatedly. Truly, there's no one else that puts you in worst case scenarios but yourself and your life decisions.

"I think I'm ready to meet that alpha that you like so much."

As expected, your mother squeals into the phone and you have to force your phone away from your ears.

Great.

Now you have to mentally prepare yourself to sit with an alpha boasting about his wealth and alpha-ic achievements for approximately two hours.

All because you wanted to avoid Jay.

Or so you thought.

Of course, fate—the little evil author that it is—decides that humiliation ritual would be the perfect trope for your failing love life.

Because why the hell are you seeing Jay coming out of the black Mercedes now parked in your mansion?!

"Mom!" You whisper-yell, already halfway bolting upstairs when you see him and his parents start walking towards the door of your house. "You said that the alpha's name was Park Jongseong!"

Your mom, who's been gushing over how handsome and perfect Jay is for you from behind the curtain where the both of you are spying on the newly-arrived guests, only nudges your shoulder gently.

"He is Park Jongseong. And those are Mr. and Mrs. Park."

"No! That's—that's Jay!"

Your mom coos, fanning her face dramatically and turning to your father. "Oh my, honey, did you hear that? They're already on nickname terms with each other."

You feel like climbing the stairs and purposely falling and rolling down to the ground.

This cannot be real!

"Wait," your mother suddenly stops her dramatic gesture. She fixes you with a curious gaze, eyes squinting suspiciously.

"How do you know him?"

Maybe jumping would be faster and easier.

On the other side of the door, Jay has been fiddling with the collar of his suit for the tenth time. Beside him, Mrs. Park is frowning, swatting at his hand when he reaches for his tie again.

"Why are you fixing your tie again? It already looks perfect."

Jay swallows. "I don't know."

No, he actually knows why. Jay has never been able to lie truthfully—an irony that always amuses his friends. His body is vibrating with never-ending nerves ever since he had reluctantly agreed to his mother's planned family dinner with the omega she has taken a liking too.

Yeap. To put it simply, Jay is nervous.

And his mother catches it, if the soothing accent of her scent is telling something. "You'll like her," she convinces. Then, as if it was an afterthought, she adds, "You already met her."

If Jay was shocked, he didn't let it show.

Well, it doesn't matter, does it? When his wolf and himself have been so captivated by you.

Whoever this omega is, Jay wants to apologise in advance. He thinks he needs a couple of months to properly move on from the wonder of you before he'll be ready to accept any dating arrangement again.

"If you're confident that I'll like her, then I hope she's the person I have on my mind, Mom."

And that is the truth. If he had already met this omega and his mother's instincts are sure that he'd fall for her—then it can't be no one else but you.

Jay had crossed paths with many omegas. He had been flirted with, pursued, and even outright confessed to more times than he could count, yet no one had occupied his thoughts quite like you.

And to think that you're spending your time with another alpha…

Jay swallows down the bitterness and forces his pheromones to calm down.

Too lost in his frantic, chaotic mind, Jay hasn't realised that he's already standing in front of the door. It swings open before any of them could press the doorbell, revealing a beautiful couple and…

"Cherry?"

His cherry.

When the scowl appears on your face, Jay feels like a diver finally coming up to the surface for air. The nerves that have been jagging every edge vanish almost instantly, now replaced with a relief so profound it feels like being given a second chance at life again.

It's really. Really. You.

"It's Y/N, you dummy."

That hostile gaze. That frown and unfriendly tone.

It's really you.

The smile that spreads across Jay's face is so hopelessly fond that Mrs. Park immediately knows she doesn't have to do any matchmaking tonight. Your frown deepens, hating the blatant display of joy that's coming from him.

What is he so giddy about?!

Meanwhile, your mother is completely oblivious to the glare you're shooting at him.

"I told you, they're already using endearments for each other!"

You hope the ground could swallow you.

Jay hopes the ground could move and bring him closer to you.

part two coming soon <3

divider from @/cursed-carmine

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taglist part 1: @vissnipherwifeey @pyreflyforest776 @dearestevan @twocupsofsuga @astraea92 @ikeurina @skz-ehna @woninlove @bbbang3l @me0w1ra @mel-reads @scarredbytheworld @narumiswife @weedforthoughtz @enjinefay @livimura @itsmerana1 @sosocide @soopyiisw @seungsoftly @heeholicc @delierrrr @kitteaasstuff @ecwipscoffee @lelo-o @seamesleep @wonniecaramelmacchiato @moonlitmyg @veemegatron

[cicadarequiem]

MOMMY’S GOOD BOY 심재윤

𝓦𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍⠀‎ ✶ you hold it for him while he pees but things get out of hand . . .

𝔀𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit sexual content ⋮ 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 ✿ mommy kink ˒ piss kink ˒ dirty talk ˒ praise kink ˒ edging ˒ cum swallowing ˒ very clingy jake ˒ sub jake don’t like? don’t read.

Everytime Jake wants to pee, he’ll squeeze his legs together and try to hold it in because he can’t bear being away from you for 2 seconds.

The two of you are on his couch, the TV flickering across the living room; your legs are draped over his lap, one arm wrapped around his shoulders while your fingers idly trace slow circles along the nape of his neck. Jake’s head rests against your chest, his warm breath ghosting over the fabric of your shirt with every contented sigh. He’s been like this all evening— clingy, needy, pressing himself closer every chance he gets, as if the slightest distance might make him cry.

The movie plays on, but his attention has long since drifted; you can feel the subtle tension building in his body, the way his thighs press together just a little tighter than before.

“Y/n…” he murmurs after a long stretch of silence, voice small and shy against your skin. His cheeks are already flushed, that pretty pink that always spreads when he’s fighting his own desperation. “I… I need to go. But I don’t wanna move. Can’t I just stay right here with you?”

You smile softly, threading your fingers through his hair and giving it a gentle tug. “Poor baby. You’ve been squirming for the last twenty minutes. Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom. I’ll go with u so you’re not alone.”

Jake’s eyes light up with relief and he nods quickly, letting you help him up from the couch. His movements are careful as you guide him down the short hallway to his bathroom. The tile is cool under your bare feet, and he clings to your side the whole way, one arm looped around your waist like he might topple over without the contact.

Inside the bathroom, Jake stands in front of the toilet, shifting from foot to foot, his hands hovering uncertainly at his sides. You step in close behind him, pressing your body against his back, your arms wrapping around his middle. “Let me help, baby. You’re too worked up to do it yourself, aren’t you?”

He whimpers softly in agreement, nodding as you reach around and carefully unbutton his pants. The zipper slides down with a quiet rasp, and you ease his underwear down just enough to free him. Jake’s already half-hard from the anticipation, his cock warm and heavy in your palm as you cup him gently. He’s sooo sensitive— twitching at the first brush of your fingers. You guide him forward, aiming the head toward the bowl.

“Go ahead, baby.”

Jake exhales shakily, burying his face into the crook of your neck the moment the first trickle starts. You can feel the heat of it pulsing through his cock in your hand, the subtle vibrations as his bladder empties. His belly, exposed as he shyly lifts the hem of his shirt with trembling fingers, rises and falls with each ragged breath. The skin there is soft and smooth, muscles fluttering under your other hand as you stroke slow, lazy circles over his abdomen.

“That’s it… good boy,” you praise in a low, soothing murmur, your lips brushing his ear. Your fingers wrap more firmly around his shaft, stroking ever so slowly from base to tip in time with the flow. The wetness makes everything slick— his own warm piss coating your palm just enough to ease the glide. Jake moans into your neck, the sound muffled and needy, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. “Look at you, letting mommy hold it while you pee. You’re so pretty like this, all desperate and trusting.”

He hardens fully in your grasp, the stream continuing even as his cock swells thicker nd heavier. The contrast is delicious—the way his body fights between relief and building arousal. You keep stroking, slow, thumb occasionally teasing the underside of the head. Jake’s knees tremble; he presses harder against you, face buried deeper, inhaling your scent like it’s the only thing grounding him.

Then you press your thumb firmly over his slit, right as another spurt tries to escape. Jake gasps sharply, body jolting. “M-Mommy..” The pressure makes the flow stutter, a few warm drops escaping around your thumb and trickling over your fingers, down his shaft. His cock throbs hard against the pad of your thumb, trapped and denied for a blissful second.

“Shh, hold it inside for me, baby,” you coo, voice soft but commanding. You cup his balls with your other hand, feeling them draw up tight and full, warm and heavy in your palm. You roll them gently, massaging as you keep the thumb pressed. “Mommy wants you to stop now. Can you do that for me? Be a good boy and hold it all in.”

Jake whines, high and broken, trying so hard. His belly tenses under your hand, the muscles contracting as he squeezes. The stream cuts off abruptly—but not perfectly. A few erratic spurts escape, splashing against the rim of the bowl and onto the floor in warm, glistening droplets. His face burns hotter against your neck, embarrassed and overwhelmed, but he keeps pushing, muscles straining.

“Hold it,” you repeat firmly, stroking his shaft again in long, praising glides. “That’s my sweet boy. You’re doing so well.. clenching so tight for Mommy even though it’s hard. Feel how full you still are? All that warm piss trapped inside because I told you to. You love when Mommy controls it, don’t you?”

He nods frantically, whimpering, “Yes—yes, Mommy. Feels… feels so good. Can’t… can’t stop it all—” Another small leak dribbles over your fingers, hot and slick, but he fights it back with a full-body shudder. His cock is rock hard now, flushed dark and leaking precum that mixes with the remnants of piss. You keep cupping his balls, squeezing them rhythmically, feeling them pulse with the effort.

“Such a good, obedient puppy,” you murmur, kissing along his jaw, nipping softly at his earlobe. Your hand never stops its slow, torturous stroking—up and down the slick length, twisting gently at the head. “You’re making such a pretty mess for me, but you’re trying so hard to hold it. I’m so proud of you. Let a little more out if you need to, but only when Mommy says. Understand?”

Jake’s breathing is ragged, hot puffs against your skin. His belly keeps fluttering, contracting and relaxing as waves of desperation roll through him. You praise him endlessly—soft whispers of “perfect boy,” “Mommy’s favorite,” “so needy and sweet”—while you edge him right there, thumb playing over his slit again to tease another tiny, denied spurt.

Time stretches. Minutes pass nd you let him release a few more controlled streams when he begs so prettily, each one accompanied by your stroking and praise, until he’s trembling on the edge of orgasm and total surrender. His legs shake, balls tight in your palm, cock throbbing wildly.

“Mommy… please,” he gasps finally, voice wrecked. “I—I’m gonna—”

You smile against his hair, squeezing his balls just right. “Cum for me, baby. Let it all go while Mommy holds you.”

He shatters —thick ropes of cum mixing with the last warm leaks of piss, spilling over your fingers and into the bowl in messy bursts. Jake clings to you like you’re his whole world, moaning your name between broken “thank you’s,” body spent.

taglist is open ╁ and so are requests !

[mssishipi]

what if... jay na kinakantot ka sa banig...

SABIK — pjs

content tags: filipino content, probinsiyana! reader x city boy! jay, he is conyo but mabantot maki-dirty talk, unprotected sex, multiple sex position, fingering, pussy slapping, creampie, tits man! jay, bawal sa mga bata. wc:3.3K

note: puta ang babastos ng utak niyo pero sige pagbigyan ko mga kalibugan niyo...

mayaman si jay, pero hindi matapobre. pero nakakahiya pa rin isipin na nagtityaga siyang humiga sa banig na inilatag mo.

wala naman siyang choice, mahirap lang talaga kayo dito sa probinsiya. kung hindi dahil sa full scholarship na swinerte mong nakuha sa up, hindi ka makakapa-manila. nakikitira ka lang din sa auntie mo at nagtatrabaho sa kanila.

nakakahiya, yung pillowcase mo, hello kitty pa six years ago, faded na rin yung kulay, may himulmol na sa gilid. hindi mo na nga maalala kung kailan mo huling napalitan ‘yon. hindi naman maarte si jay, hindi siya yung tipong mapanghusga o mapili, pero kahit gano’n, hindi mo pa rin mapigilang mahiya. siya kasi ‘to—mayaman, sanay sa maayos at malamig na kwarto, malambot na kama, kumot na amoy fabric conditioner. tapos ngayon, heto siya, nakahiga sa banig na may konting tagpi, sa kwartong amoy kulob, at may asong tahol nang tahol sa labas.

“presko ba? hindi ka ba naiinitan? masakit ba likod mo?” sunod-sunod mong tanong habang sinisindihan ang katol. pilit mong pinapawi ang hiya sa boses mo, pero halata pa rin ang kaba, na baka isipin niyang kawawa ka, o baka lalo siyang ma-turn off.

jay just lay down sa banig na parang wala lang, parang sanay na sanay siya sa ganito. nakapikit siya sandali, tapos bumukas ang mga mata niyang parang laging may kinikindat.

he stared at you with a lazy smile—nakakainis, ang pogi talaga. parang mas lalo siyang gumwapo sa simpleng puting shirt at basketball shorts. kahit amoy pawis na kayo pareho, parang siya lang ang mukhang fresh.

“okay lang ako,” sabi niya, sabay dampi ng likod ng kamay niya sa braso mo. “saka, ang sarap ng hangin dito. tsaka ikaw ‘yung kasama ko, so kahit saan, okay lang.”

napaatras ka ng konti, hindi mo alam kung dahil kinilig ka o dahil gusto mong magtago sa hiya. pero kahit anong tago, hindi mo matatakpan ‘yung totoo—kinikilig ka, sobra. at mas nakakainis, mas lalo kang nai-in love.

hindi naman talaga kayo dapat matutulog dito sa kubo, kaso hindi dala ni jay yung kotse niya. ang plano lang sana ay dumaan sandali para bumisita, tapos diretso na ulit pauwi bago gumabi. pero ang dami niyong nagawa, at hindi niyo namalayan na palubog na pala ang araw.

unang-una, pagkadating niyo pa lang, agad kang inutusan ng mama mo na tumulong sa paggawa ng igatong. kahit bisita si jay, hindi rin siya pinatawad—yung papa mo naman, parang sinadya pa talagang sabihan siya, “o jay, marunong ka ba maglinis ng kulungan ng baboy?” at bago ka pa nakasabat ng “ako na lang po,” e nasa likod-bahay na si jay, may tabo sa isang kamay at walis tingting sa kabila, habang nakakunot-noo sa tapang ng amoy.

“ganda mo,” bulong ni jay, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts. bago ka pa makasagot, naramdaman mo na yung mga braso niya na dahan-dahang yumakap sa bewang mo.

ramdam mo rin yung dibdib niya sa likod mo, habang ang ilong niya ay dahan-dahang dumampi sa batok mo, humihinga ng malalim na parang inaamoy ka. each exhale sent a shiver down your spine, and his fingers, hindi mapakali, gumagapang pababa’t pataas sa tela ng bestida mo—yung lumang bestida na hiniram mo lang sa mama mo, manipis, medyo lawlaw, at halatang hindi talaga sayo.

“para nga akong nanay, jay. huwag mo nga akong binobola,” sabi mo, pilit na pinipigil ang panginginig ng boses mo, kunyaring inis pero alam mong hindi mo siya kayang itulak.

jay just chuckled, tapos bigla niyang hinalikan yung leeg mo. mabagal at mainit na halik na parang may kasamang pasaring—tahimik pero malinaw ang mensahe.

“bakit ba, e ang sexy mo pa rin,” bulong niya habang tuloy ang halik niya pababa, pa-slide sa collar ng bestida mo. gumapang na rin ang isa niyang kamay sa balikat mo, hinahaplos ang balat mo.

you bit your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, pero nahalata mong bumibilis na. every kiss he placed on your neck felt like fire, and every time he whispered something, you felt your knees weaken a little more.

“jay…” you said, pero hindi siya tumigil.

instead, he smirked against your skin and murmured, “ang sarap mong asarin.” sabay dila ng kaunti sa gilid ng leeg mo, making you gasp involuntarily.

“jay, tangina mo,” you moan again when his hands glide beneath your bestida, cupping your chest. “baka marinig tayo nina mama…”

“shhh,” he hushed, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. his thumb toyed with your nipple, while his mouth continued to kiss and bite gently at your neck. “ganda mo kasi, baby. that bestida gave me an instant hard on. i swear.”

your head fell onto his shoulder, breath hitching when his fingers rolled your nipples between his fingers. you tried to keep your voice down, but every flick, every rub made your control slip just a little more.

“ang weird mo,” you whispered with a soft laugh, breathy with a moan as his other hand snuck into your panties, finding your folds already slick from all his teasing. his fingers moved slowly at first, spreading your wetness with a low groan in his throat.

“this is how probinsiyana like me dress, jay,” you managed, your thighs instinctively parting as his fingers circled your clit. “it’s nothing special…”

jay chuckled low, voice full of mischief and heat. “well, kung ganito magdamit ang probinsiyana, then i need to move to the province, baby. shit—you’re so wet.”

you bit your lip, your hips pushing into his touch as your body betrayed the fear of being caught. your bestida hiked around your waist, his hand buried between your thighs, his lips pressing along your neck and jaw.

“jay…” you breathed.

he pulled back just enough to look at you. “don’t worry. tahimik lang ako. unless you’re the one na ‘di na makatiis.”

his fingers dipped deeper, curling inside you, thumb still flicking your clit, and you whimpered as your knees weakened, toes curling in your slippers.

“ganda mo talaga, fuck. lagot ka sakin,” he groaned against your ear, his breath hot and ragged as he slid another finger inside you, stretching your walls, pumping them slow and deep. your body jolted, thighs trembling, but his other hand gripped your waist firm, keeping you steady as he kept working you open.

“gusto mo kantutin kita, baby?” his voice was rough now, needy, but teasing like he already knew your answer.

you moaned louder, hips grinding against his hand, chasing that friction. “jay…” your eyes locked with his, breath heavy, chest rising and falling in quick gasps. “where did you even learn that word?”

he smirked, fucking his fingers into you faster now, deeper, the wet sound between your legs obscene in the quiet room. “why? you like it when i talk to you like this?” his voice dropped lower. “gusto mo ‘yung dirty talk, ha?”

you couldn’t answer, your mouth opened, but only a sharp gasp came out when he curled his fingers just right, hitting that soft, spongy spot that made your whole body jolt. your whines turned into sobbed moans, and you felt his hard cock press against the curve of your ass, thick and aching through his shorts.

he pulled his fingers out suddenly, and before you could complain, slap—a wet smack against your pussy made your hips twitch violently, your hands clutching at his shirt to stay upright.

“i asked you a question, baby,” he whispered against your ear, lips brushing your lobe. slap—another one, sharper this time. “gusto mong kinakausap ng ganto? gusto mong kantutin kita?”

you shuddered, breathless. “yes, jay. fuuck.”

“good girl,” he said, fingers rubbing your clit in slow circles again, just enough to keep you shaking. “kasi ako, i’ve been dying to bend you over since you walked out of your room in this bestida.”

you whined into his neck, hips pushing back, grinding against his cock like you were begging him to take you now, right here. you didn’t care anymore if your mama or anyone heard—your body was screaming for him.

he kissed you hard then, swallowing your moans, tongue sliding into your mouth with hunger that mirrored yours. when he pulled away, his grip on your waist tightened, guiding you down on your knees sa banig. the woven mat scratched against your skin, grounding you just enough before he flipped your dress up and tugged your panties down in one swift motion, leaving you bare and exposed beneath him.

“stay quiet for me, baby,” he murmured darkly, the tip of his cock nudging your soaked entrance, teasing your folds. “or don’t. gusto kong marinig ‘yung tunog mo habang binabanatan kita.”

“ang bastos ng bibig mo—ahhh fuck!” hindi mo natuloy ang sasabihin mo when jay pushed himself inside you, thick and hard, stretching you open in one slow, punishing thrust. your head dropped between your arms, back arching as a broken moan escaped your lips.

“tangina,” he groaned, hips flush against your ass, hands gripping you so hard. "this pussy, baby—grabe. ang sikip mo."

you gasped, knuckles turning white as you gripped the edge of the mat, trying to breathe through the pressure.

“jay… dahan-dahan…” you whispered, voice shaky, but the way your hips pushed back into him betrayed your words.

he chuckled low, teasing. “eh ikaw ‘tong bumabayo pabalik, baby. ano ba talaga?”

he pulled out slowly, almost all the way, then slammed back in, you cried out, the sound muffled against your arm, and he didn’t stop—he found a rhythm that is fast and brutal, skin slapping against skin, your wetness making it slick and messy.

“shit,” he hissed. “naririnig mo sarili mo, baby? ang ingay ng puke mo—akala ko tahimik ka?”

jay and his words—tangina, you don’t even know where he learned those things. akala mo pa-cool lang siya lagi, all english and barkada jokes. but here he was now, saying the filthiest things in the dirtiest Tagalog, and it didn’t even sound forced.

and it shouldn’t be hot but fuck, it was.

iba din pala talaga ‘yung feeling pag sariling lenggwahe ang ginagamit. parang mas totoo, mas nakakabaliw. every word, every moan he coaxed out of you felt deeper, heavier, like it was crawling straight to your core.

you sob-laughed, moaning louder when he adjusted his angle again, thrusting deeper, until he hit that spot inside you that made your walls clench so hard you almost collapsed on the banig.

“fuck, jay—doon! putangina, wag mong tigilan…”

“dito?” he panted, voice rough, his breath fanning against your back. “itong part na ‘to, huh?” he slammed into you again, and again, his hips snapping fast and punishing, each thrust more intentional than the last.

your thighs shook violently, your body already twitching from the overwhelming pressure building in your belly. he knew. he could feel it.

his hand snuck between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit, fast while he kept pounding you from behind.

“you gonna cum, baby?” he whispered, voice so fucking smug. “gusto mo sabay tayo?”

you choked on your moan, tears stinging your eyes from how intense it was getting. “jay—i’m close. putangina, don’t stop. please—please…”

he leaned down, pressing his chest to your back, lips grazing your ear. “sige lang, baby. cum for me. basain mo ‘tong tite ko.”

then he bit your shoulder, not hard, just enough to push you over and your orgasm hit you like a wave crashing down. your body locked up, mouth open in a silent scream as you gushed around him, shaking uncontrollably.

“fuck yes,” jay growled, feeling your walls clamp down. “tangina, ang sarap, i’m gonna—"

with a final deep thrust, he buried himself inside you and groaned loud into your neck as he came, hot and heavy, filling you up while your body trembled beneath him.

for a moment, you both just breathed. heavy, spent and sweaty. your face buried into the mat, his weight pressing down on you, cock still twitching inside.

“isa pa,” he muttered, voice still hoarse, his breath brushing against your skin. halos kakabalik niyo pa lang sa sarili niyo from your shared orgasm, but his eyes were already dark again, hunger returning fast. he pulled out slowly, watching the way your slick folds twitched, his cum dripping out of you in thick trails. then—slap—he hit your ass, just to see it jiggle.

“fuck,” he whispered to himself.

you whimpered, legs trembling as you shifted, turning to face him. your eyes dropped to his cock—still hard, glistening with both your juices, precum dripping from the tip. he shoved his shorts all the way off, then lay flat on the banig, spreading his legs slightly, chest rising with each heavy breath.

“ride me.” he said, patting his abs with a cocky grin.

you crawled over him slowly, halos mahulog ka pa sa pagod, but the heat didn’t let up—if anything, it felt even more intense now. his whole body was drenched in sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, some strands falling into his eyes. his mouth was parted, half-lidded eyes locked on yours as your fingers wrapped around his shaft, guiding him back to your entrance.

“fuck… sarap,” he cursed, his head falling back when you slid him inside, inch by inch. your walls were still sensitive, twitching around him, but the stretch felt so addicting. he was so deep like this, the angle obscene.

you leaned forward, peeling your dress over your head and tossing it aside, bare now except for the sweat clinging to your skin. your palms rested on his chest, grounding you as you rolled your hips, letting him feel every inch.

then you started to move properly, lifting and sinking down onto him in steady rhythm, moaning every time he bottomed out.

“jayyy,” you cried out, breath shaking. his hands came up to your breasts, kneading them, fingers tugging at your nipples with each bounce, each grind, making your head spin.

"puta," he whisper as he was watching you.

para kayong mag-asawa na sabik na sabik sa isa’t isa after being apart for too long. the way your bodies moved, how your moans tangled together, how your sweat mixed—it was messy.

you didn’t even imagine you’d ever be doing this in a place like this. your knees were already burning from the rough mat, and jay was lying on it like he didn’t care if he hurt his back, as long as he was buried deep inside you.

binilisan mo ang pagsakay sa kaniya, hips slapping against his lap, the wet sound echoing around the dim room. jay groaned deep in his chest, eyes rolling back, then suddenly he sat up, chest to chest with you, his mouth latching onto your nipple like he’d been starving for it.

“shit—jay!” your moan came out louder.

the old ceiling light above flickered erratically, the thin curtain by the window fluttered wildly from the night breeze, and for a second, your mind screamed what if someone sees? but then again, liblib ang lugar niyo. walang ibang bahay for meters, and everyone knew your family’s already asleep.

you stopped caring.

jay flicked his tongue over your bud again and again, alternating with soft bites that made your core clench harder around him. his arms tightened around your waist, pressing you down, keeping you snug on his cock like he never wanted you to leave. then one hand slid lower, gripping your ass, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided your rhythm—faster, rougher, deeper.

he planted both feet flat on the mat and started thrusting up, meeting every bounce of your hips with powerful snaps. each time he drove into you, you cried out, unable to hold back anymore.

“l-lapit na…” you gasped, eyes fluttering shut, head falling back.

he didn’t answer. he just growled low in his throat, still sucking your nipple, still refusing to let go. parang doon siya kumakapit para hindi siya mapasigaw. gigil na gigil. sobrang sabik, mouth busy, arms locking you down, hips pounding up.

you grabbed his hair with both hands, desperate, trying to hold onto something as your orgasm threatened to take over. he didn’t stop.

his whole body was trembling under you, muscles tensed, veins popping on his arms and neck.

“jay… jay,” you choked out, grinding hard into him, trying to ride it out. “jay—ayan na—fuck!”

your body seized, walls clenching around him so tight he gasped against your chest, finally letting go of your nipple with a wet pop. “tangina, ang sikip — fuck, baby.”

but he didn’t stop. his hips kept moving, slower now but still deep, dragging himself in and out of your soaked, trembling cunt. your legs gave out completely, you collapsed on top of him, chest pressed to his, head resting on his shoulder, arms loosely draped around his neck.

you were still moaning, breathless, uncontrollable. parang wala ka na sa katawan mo, every sound escaping your lips a product of overstimulation, every muscle in your body tingling from how hard he made you cum.

“jay… too much…” you whimpered, but you didn’t pull away.

he grunted, one hand running up your spine while the other stayed gripped on your ass. “konti na lang, baby. ang sarap mo, shit.”

then he cursed louder, voice cracking from the strain, and with one final thrust, he buried himself fully inside you for the second time. his cock twitched violently, spilling inside you, the hot flood of his release almost enough to make you cum all over again.

“fuck,” he groaned, head falling back onto the mat, eyes fluttering shut as he breathed through it.

you stayed like that for a moment—sweaty, tangled, barely moving. his cock was still inside you, softening slowly, and you could feel both your releases beginning to leak down your thighs.

“sure ka na ba sa’kin? ta’mo, kaya mo ba matulog sa banig pag nagbabakasyon?” you asked, laughing softly, still catching your breath as you carefully slid off of him.

jay let out a tired chuckle, eyes watching you with that soft gaze—yung parang kahit gutom na siya or pagod, ikaw pa rin ‘yung gusto niyang tignan.

“kung ikaw kasama ko, kahit sa lupa pa tayo matulog, okay lang.”

you rolled your eyes, trying not to smile too wide as you reached for your bestida, sliding it back on, the fabric clinging to your damp skin.

“ang sweet mo bigla. kanina lang bastos ka magsalita,” you teased, smoothing down the dress and brushing your hair back.

jay sat up, groaning a bit as he rubbed the back of his neck. “sorry na, nadala lang talaga. sobrang ganda mo kasi… tapos yung bestida pa. that was my first time seeing you dress like that.”

you didn’t answer, too tired to play along. instead, you fluffed the pillow with one hand, lay down on your side, and closed your eyes. you didn’t even bother with the mess between your thighs—you just wanted to sleep.

jay followed, pulling up his shorts lazily before lying down beside you. he adjusted the banig a bit, then scooted closer until you could feel the heat of his body behind you.

“probinsiyana ka pala talaga, ‘no?” he murmured, no teasing, just something affectionate in the way he said it.

you hummed, not opening your eyes. “oo, ano, atras ka na?” you half-joked, voice slurred with sleep.

he chuckled near your ear, the sound low and warm, then leaned in and whispered, “never.”

his arm wrapped around you, pulling you close, and his hand slipped under your bestida to cup your chest—his usual habit whenever you slept next to each other. sabi niya, it helped him relax. totoo man o hindi, you let him, already used to the weight of his hand resting there.

“mahilig ako sa local, eh,” he added.

you smiled to yourself, eyes still closed. “sira.”

“sayo lang,” he whispered.

[heevnly]

Cheeky Business

Pairing: Hybrid!Heeseung x Vet-Med!femReader

Genre:Enemies-to-lovers, domestic fluff, college AU

Synopsis: When the campus menace and notorious snack-thief Lee Heeseung gets caught in a downpour and sprains his ankle, his fierce hybrid survival instincts kick in. To your absolute shock, his arrogant facade completely melts, leaving you to deal with a deeply feverish, incredibly clingy hamster hybrid who refuses to let you leave his freshly built living room nest.

WC: 1,582

The hum of the library’s ancient AC unit was usually enough to drown out the existential dread of my third-year Veterinary Medicine coursework, but today, the universe had chosen a louder, more irritating soundtrack.

*Crunch.* I didn't even have to look up from my tablet screen, where a complex diagram of hybrid nervous systems was currently blurring together. The faint, sweet scent of honey-butter seasoning and the soft, distinct rustle of a plastic wrapper told me everything I needed to know.

"Are you actually serious right now, Heeseung?" I muttered, rubbing the bridge of my nose beneath my wire-rimmed glasses.

A shadow fell over my desk, and before I could react, a long, pale hand reached directly into my open tote bag. Soft, rounded, sandy-brown hamster ears poked out from a mass of messy black hair, twitching in absolute triumph as he snagged the family-sized bag of chips I’d bought to survive my midnight study session.

"You bought the good ones today, Four-Eyes," Heeseung drawled. He slid into the empty plastic chair next to me, stretching his ridiculous six-foot-one frame out under the cramped desk. He invaded my personal space with the practiced ease of someone who owned the place, a permanent, lazy smirk plastered across his face. "I'll consider this tax for letting you sit in my glorious presence."

"Your presence smells like cedar shavings and stolen property," I snapped, reaching across his chest to grab the bag.

Heeseung dodged instantly, hoisting the chips high above his head. Because he possessed the genetic irony of a tiny, hoarding rodent trapped inside the body of a varsity athlete, I had to lean completely across his lap just to swipe at the air. He looked down at me, his dark eyes sparkling with unadulterated mischief, his twitchy pink nose crinkling as he laughed.

"Want 'em? Come get 'em, Dr," he teased, his fluffy ears flattening playfully against his head.

"Give it back, you oversized rodent, or I swear to God I will swap your presentation slides for the seminar tomorrow with a forty-slide gallery of senior-citizen guinea pigs."

Heeseung paused, his ears drooping just a fraction. He knew I’d do it, too. Last week, after he hid my anatomy notebook in the vending machine, I had changed his phone’s alarm to a high-pitched frequency that only hybrids could hear. He hadn't slept properly for forty-eight hours.

"You're evil," he muttered. But instead of handing the bag over, he casually popped a chip into his own mouth, then reached down and stuffed one directly into mine to silence me.

Across the aisle, two guys from the agronomy department were already snickering into their textbooks, whispering something about us that I chose to actively ignore. This was our daily warfare, a predictable routine of bickering, stolen snacks, and mild property damage that kept us both awake through the grueling college semesters.

But the universe has a funny way of shifting the balance when you least expect it.

It happened on a miserable Tuesday afternoon. The sky had opened up into a torrential downpour, turning the campus walkways into a slick, muddy hazard zone. Heeseung, possessing the stubborn pride of a hybrid who refused to admit that his animal counterpart hated getting wet, had marched out of the science building without an umbrella because "hamsters don't do rain."

An hour later, as I wrapped up a grueling lab session and walked out into the damp, freezing drizzle, I spotted a slumped figure on the bench beneath a leaking awning.

It was Heeseung. The arrogant, smirking menace of the library was entirely gone. His clothes were soaked to the skin, his left ankle was visibly swelling through his sneaker, and his usually fluffy ears were completely plastered to his head, drooping miserably over his eyes. He was shivering violently. Because hybrids struggle significantly with thermoregulation when their fur or ears get wet, the cold was hitting him twice as hard.

"Heeseung?" I called out, rushing over.

He flinched, looking up with pale lips and glossy eyes. "Y/N," he croaked, looking utterly devastated that I was witnessing him like this. "I... I slipped on the moss. My ankle popped."

My cynical student brain wanted to throw a sarcastic comment his way, but the future veterinarian in me took over the second I saw him tremble. Without a word, I unzipped my duffel bag, pulled out my dry, oversized fleece hoodie, and draped it over his shivering shoulders.

"Can you walk?"

He looked down, his cheeks flushing a faint, embarrassed pink. "No."

"Okay. Lean on me."

For the first time since I’d known him, Heeseung didn't make a snide remark. He just quietly let me hoist his heavy arm over my shoulder, his large frame acting as deadweight against mine as we slowly, painstakingly navigated the slippery sidewalk back to my apartment, which was thankfully just a block off-campus.

By the time I got him inside, stripped him of his soaking wet jacket, and got some ice on his sprained ankle, his high fever had kicked his hybrid instincts into absolute overdrive. When a hamster hybrid is severely sick or injured, their higher-level human reasoning takes a backseat to their base survival programming. For Heeseung, that meant one urgent, desperate necessity: nesting.

"Y/N..." he whimpered from the living room floor.

I walked out of the kitchen holding a bowl of warm broth and some anti-inflammatories, only to stop dead in my tracks. Heeseung had dragged every single pillow off my bed, my winter duvet, three throw blankets, and a pile of my freshly laundered clothes into a massive, circular fortress in the center of the room. He was curled up right in the middle of it, burying his face in the fabrics.

"The nest isn't right," he mumbled, his voice thick and congested. His nose twitched rapidly as he sniffed the air, his ears twitching anxiously. "It doesn't smell like you enough. I need... I need the green sweater. The one you wore yesterday."

I stared at him, completely stunned. The campus bully who spent his mornings throwing paper balls at the back of my head was currently begging for my laundry to secure his sick-nest.

"Heeseung, you're burning up. Take the medicine first," I said softly, kneeling at the edge of the blanket pile.

He watched me with wide, vulnerable eyes. Slowly, a pale hand reached out from under the duvet, his fingers gently catching the hem of my shirt and pulling me weakly toward him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, a genuine tear pooling in the corner of his eye before slipping into the soft fur at his temple. "For stealing your chips. And hiding your books. I'm a terrible hybrid. You're trying to save lives and I'm just a menace."

The fever-induced guilt was making him look so incredibly small despite his size that my heart completely melted.

"Hey," I murmured, setting the bowl down and carefully crawling into the nest with him. "I bully you back, remember? I changed your laptop background to a hawk last month. We're even. But right now, you need to rest."

Heeseung let out a shaky sigh, the tension leaving his shoulders the second I sat beside him. Before I could move, his long arms wrapped securely around my waist, pulling me down into the center of the blankets. He buried his face directly into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply.

"Stay," he mumbled against my skin. "Your scent makes it safe."

I couldn't leave even if I wanted to. He had effectively locked me in place, curling his long legs around mine like a giant, clingy rodent hoarding his favorite prize. His hot breath tickled my collarbone, and every few seconds, his incredibly soft ears would twitch against my cheek. As I carefully ran my fingers through his dark hair, avoiding the sensitive base of his ears, a low, rhythmic vibration started in his chest. It was a soft, content chattering—the ultimate sign of a hybrid who felt entirely safe and protected.

The next morning, the storm had passed, and bright sunlight filtered through the living room windows.

I woke up to find Heeseung’s fever had finally broken. He was still holding me tightly, but he was awake, staring down at my face with an expression so remarkably tender it made my breath catch in my throat. Seeing my eyes open, his ears perked up instantly, standing tall and fluffy.

"Morning," he whispered, his voice deep and raspy from sleep.

"How's the ankle?" I asked, shifting slightly in the pile of blankets.

Instead of letting me go, Heeseung just tightened his grip, hiding his flushed face in my hair. "Still hurts. I think I need to stay in this nest for at least another three days. Minimum."

I let out a soft laugh, poking his side. "Oh, really? The great Lee Heeseung wants to cuddle with Four-Eyes for a long weekend?"

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, the familiar, playful glint returning to his gaze, though it was softened by something entirely real. His thumb reached up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from my glasses.

"I'll buy you a lifetime supply of honey-butter chips," he promised softly, his cheeks turning a bright pink. "And I'll let you study my hybrid reflexes all semester. Just... don't leave the nest yet."

I smiled, reaching up to gently scratch behind his sandy-brown ears, watching them twitch happily in response. "Deal, you oversized hamster."

Sorry, I know it's not what you guys asked for. 😞

I might delete my acc🙃

[kikidoul]

CUM 'TIL YOU CRY.

IN WHICH. . . Your beloved puma hybrid: Nishimura Riki, has reached his limits of restraining himself. Under the influence of his heat combined with his pent-up feelings for you, he decides the best way to let you know was by showing than saying it out loud.

5.7k wc⠀‎❀⠀non idol & university au ♪♪ puma hybrid! nishimura riki x fem! reader 𐧘 explicit mature content, porn without plot, unprotected sex, knotting, breeding kink, jealous riki, riki has a tail & claws, feral & possessive riki, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), pussy slapping, breast play, coming untouched, face-sitting, mild choking, size difference, hung riki, mean! riki.

perm taglist [always open]: @lolliloopsy, @kristynaaah, @lac4ygal, @sacrificemuraa, @hoonguin, @enhaxlhs, @ryulshot4sho, @yangvitta, @pleasantheartsworld, @cherryw0n.

from author: i love puma riki. that's it. that's the plot.

Riki has been acting weird recently.

The puma hybrid is more clingy than usual—which wasn't anything new at first glance. Ever since he came into your life, the hybrid with the height of six foot something, toned arms, impressive abs that's hidden under the layers of his clothes with tattoos—one on near his hipbones, one on his side and the last on his back, Riki will be on you the moment you came back.

He didn't care if you haven't removed your shoes or dropped the keys. Riki wastes no time in pulling you into his arms, head buried in your neck with him nuzzling his nose against your skin. He ignored your futile, weak attempts of prying him off, his body practically melting once he inhaled your scent, like it's an antidote for his illness.

His illness of being separated from you for way too long.

But now? Now his clinginess only got even worse. If you were smarter, you would've been able to connect the dots—how your beloved puma hybrid kept following you around, his long, black tail swishing side to side ever since you told him you got a boyfriend. You've been dating for the past five months and he's everything you wanted—loyal, kind, faithful, funny, understanding and the list goes on.

When you broke the news to Riki, you were too deep in love, already rambling about your oh so perfect relationship to notice how he stilled. How his tail dipped immediately. How his ears flattened against his head. How his jaw clenched, tongue poking the insides of his cheek. How his eyes narrowed into silts. How he clenched his left hand into a fist that rested on his lap, hidden from your view.

Ever since that day—five months ago, Riki made it a point to cling onto you at every chance he gets. He doesn't care if you're in public. The moment you're in his sight, he has his tail wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him while subtly scenting you at the same time. As he's tall enough, it's enough to scare off anyone who's foolish enough to look your way. If that doesn't worked, he'll resort to glaring at them, which proved to be useful many, many times.

Right now, you're seated on the couch in the living room with your laptop perched on a cushion, using it as a temporary stand. Your fingers flew across the keyboard, lips unconsciously pursed in a thin line while working on your assignments. Being a university student meant you're constantly bombarded with never-ending assignments—essays, group projects, reports, tests and exams.

It got so bad to the point you haven't contacted your boyfriend for the past two weeks. You felt remorseful at first, not wanting any misunderstandings to be formed. But when your lecturers thought it was a great idea for them to throw an unreasonable amount of work to their students, the thought was washed down the drain as you threw yourself into study mode, working on them nonstop.

You were so engrossed with your current task that you remained blissfully unaware of your surroundings. Of how a certain puma hybrid was heading your way, his footsteps light and barely making any noise, like he's stalking his next prey. You finally looked down, features softening to see it's none other than Riki resting his head on your lap, eyes fixated on your face.

You reached down, brushing his dirty ash blonde hair away from his forehead, drawing a soft, pleased sigh from him. Your heart squeezed, getting a rush of cuteness aggression when he turned, rubbing his cheek against your stomach through your shirt. You knew what he wants and also knew if anything, he's extremely shy when it comes to demanding for your attention.

You being you, decides to tease him.

"Riki, do you need something?" You asked, hovering your hand in the air.

The hybrid stopped rubbing his cheek, cracking one eye open to glare at you, his thick and plump lips curling down in a pout. "You know what I want."

You hummed, plastering a fake thoughtful look on your face, well-aware of how he's watching you. "Do I? I'm not a mind reader. If you want something, you need to tell me."

Your words drew a frustrated and annoyed growl from him but you weren't fazed or afraid. You merely chuckled, wriggling your fingers in the air. "I'm waitinggggg."

He closed his eyes, seemingly sending prayers to whoever's listening before opening them. "…Can you pat me, please?"

You cooed out loud and Riki scrunched his nose, sending you death glares at the revolting noise. "You're so cute! If that's what my precious baby puma wants."

He was about to get up when you started patting his head, occasionally flicking his ears. The moment you laid your hands on him, his shoulders sagged with relief and his eyes fluttered shut. He made himself comfortable, face squashed into your stomach with his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, locking you in place while you returned to working on your assignment.

Thirty minutes of comfortable silence past and your phone started ringing, vibrating vigorously from its spot on the couch's armrest. You didn't want to wake Riki up—who had been lulled to sleep by your comforting scent and warmth, subtly stretching your arm to pick up your phone. One look at the screen made your heart dropped when you saw the contact name.

You accepted the call, bringing your phone to your right ear.

"Hello?"

"(Name), let's break up," your boyfriend said, his tone steady and firm.

Your heart stopped beating, shattering into pieces the moment you heard his words. You felt cold, like someone had dumped a pail of cold, freezing water over you. You stared ahead of you—wide eyes and tuning out your surroundings, until the only thing you can hear was the blood rushing through your ears.

"W-What? Why?" You stammered, unaware of Riki stirring to life, his ears perking up, clearly trying to eavesdrop.

A sigh. "It's no hard feelings, really. I just don't feel the same way anymore. And you've been busy lately. You didn't answer my texts or my calls. It's like you've forgotten about my existence."

"That's not—"

"And that hybrid of yours. It's clear there's something going on between the two of you, with how possessive he is," he interrupted, having no intention of hearing you out or letting you speak.

Hearing this, you stilled. Your fingers that were previously threading through Riki's hair came to an abrupt halt. Your eyes instinctively flicked down to him, breath hitching when you made eye contact and how he has been watching and listening the entire time. His eyes were now narrowed to silts. He doesn't care that he was caught red-handed, showing no ounce of remorse or shame.

But rather, he looked… smug, like he knew this will happen.

Your lack of response earned a bitter huff from your boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend, in this case. "See? This is what I meant. Forget it, there's no point trying to talk to you. We're over. Don't contact me again."

"Wait—"

He ended the call and you moved it away, staring at it like it had personally offended you. Riki took that as his cue to push himself up, stretching his arms above his head. The action made the gray hoodie he worn to be dragged up, showing off an inch of his skin and the kiss mark tattoo he got. Your eyes darted towards it without warning, only for you to look away immediately ignoring how your heart skipped a beat and heat pooling in your stomach.

"Who was that?" He asked casually and innocently, running a hand through his hair.

"My boyfriend," you chuckled, placing your phone on your side, "well, ex-boyfriend."

He frowned. "Ex?"

"Yeah, he just broke up with me, over the phone."

Riki sucked in air from his teeth, his tail neatly resting over his lap. "Oh… I'm sorry to hear that."

You shook your head, sinking further into the couch. "It's fine, I kinda deserve it."

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong," he replied without missing a beat.

You glanced at him, startled by how fast and firm his response was. "Because I might have forgotten to contact him? I didn't make any efforts to call or text him."

"And? You're busy with your assignments. You don't have to bend your back for someone who's insecure," he retorted, draping an arm across the back of his couch, his hand directly behind your head.

You snorted. "He's not insecure, Riki. Don't be mean to him."

For a brief moment, the hybrid seemed like he wanted to say something but thought better of it, choosing to keep his mouth shut. He got up from the couch, the tip of his tail grazing your bare ankle—deliberately and lightly before he walked away. You remained seated on the couch, watching as he disappeared into the comfort of his own room, closing the door behind him.

What was that?

~

You noticed a slight change in Riki two weeks later.

The hybrid started spending more time in his room, only coming out when it's absolutely necessary. Heck, he didn't step out even when you announced you were leaving for your classes, leaving you utterly confused. You did knock on his door, asking him questions about his health but all you got was him telling you to go away.

If there's one thing about you, it's that you never give up.

Knock knock.

"Riki? Hello? Are you still alive?" You asked, pressing your ear against the door, trying to catch the smallest sounds.

That's when you heard it—a low, slow and warning growl. Hearing it sent shivers down your spine and you rubbed your thighs together, feeling the all-too familiar sensation of arousal blooming in your stomach.

"Go away."

The two words were said with such conviction and coldness that it rendered you speechless. Never in your life have you heard Riki growling at you, like the true puma he is. You should listen to him. Should turned around, walked away to leave him alone. Ignoring the invisible alarm bells going off in your mind, you took a deep breath, twisted the door knob and pushed it open.

The door moved aside to reveal Riki's room. The curtains were drawn closed, shutting him out from the rest of the world. Your eyes locked in on the bump on his bed. A bump that you easily identified as the owner of the room. You stepped in, wary to not step on anything that could potentially scared him or set him into fight-or-flight mode.

Once you were close enough, you sat on the edge of the bed, turning slightly so you can face him without straining your neck. You reached out, ready to pull the sheets away when he moved.

One moment you were seated and the next, you were pinned against the bed. You gasped, startled by the abrupt change of position. Both of your wrists was held over your head, held down firmly with Riki's one hand while the other was braced on the wrinkled sheets. The sight before you made your breath hitched.

Riki's face was flushed, cheeks covered in a light shade of red. His eyes turned into slits, borderline glowing and his forehead glowed in a layer of sweat, hair sticking to his face. His lips were parted, exhaling at an unsteady pace, like he had ran a marathon. This wasn't the usual Riki you're used to. Someone who always keep his cool. Someone who noticed everything about you.

"Riki, wha—!?"

You stopped when he ducked, nosing along your neck and he breathed in, deeply. You strained your ears, picking up what sounded like… purring? You felt the vibrations coursing through his body and his sharp, fluffy ears twitched.

"Your scent… it's driving me crazy," he rasped out, voice low and deep.

You swallowed, your heart hammering against your chest rapidly. "Seriously, what's wr—mmpfh!"

You didn't finish your sentence, not because your voice gave up on you. But rather, it was because of the hybrid, who captured your lips in a hot, demanding and intense kiss. Unlike your ex who takes his time, Riki was different. He kissed you harshly, further pushing you into the sheets with him fully settling his weight on you, like he wants you to blend into it.

You squeaked when he nipped at the plush, soft flesh of your lips with the sharp tip of his fangs, the searing pain striking you like a lightning bolt. He released his grip on your wrists, supporting your head with one hand on your neck while the other gripped onto your waist, his touch possessive and firm.

You could feel the warmth from his body, how he's a walking heater. The closeness of this combined with him kissing you with such desperation made you whined into his mouth. Riki groaned, swallowing the delicious sound, treating it like it's an sacred offering. The kiss deepened—him forcing you to grant him entrance and he sucked on your tongue, hard enough to make you pushed your chest up against his.

It's filthy and lewd, with spit trickling down your chin. Seeing this, Riki broke the kiss and licked it up with his rough tongue, leaving your skin feeling damp and sticky before he kissed you again, unable to get enough of your sweet, addictive taste.

"Riki—"

You moaned against his lips, arching your back off the bed as his other hand traced your silhouette, creating a map out of your body. He pushed your oversized shirt up until the hem of your bra was shown, drawing a ragged, broken moan from him, like seeing your clear, unblemished skin does something to him.

He pulled back, staring at you as he takes in the mind-blowing sight before him—your dazed eyes, your swollen, bruised and spit-covered lips and the light flush on your cheeks. Seeing you like this—all wrecked and breathless, drew a dark and pleased purr from the depth of his throat.

"So pretty for me," he breathed out, his breath fanning across your lips, savoring the way you shivered involuntarily at his words.

Riki moved down, busying himself in leaving wet and messy kisses along the expanse of your neck, ensuring to lick at your skin, able to get a faint salty taste at the tip of his tongue. He slowly lowered himself, spreading your legs apart with one hand—the action effortless and requiring close to zero strength, aligning your cores together and oh, you can feel him.

Feel his long, thick and heavy cock straining against the poor restraints of his sweatpants, begging to be freed. You swallowed, feeling your underwear sticking against your pussy at the thought of him filling you up. Riki stilled above you, his nostrils flaring before he growled, staring you down with nothing but desire written all over his face.

A loud ripping sound pierced through the bedroom. You squeaked, hands moving to cover yourself when the puma hybrid ripped your clothes with his sharp claws but he was faster, pinning your hands above your head with one hand while the other gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't hide from me," he snarled.

You made a pathetic sound—a sound you didn't know you were capable of in the first place and it made the puma smirked proudly. When it's clear you're not planning to move, Riki shifted down, giving attention to your freed breasts. He wrapped his lips around your left hardened nipple, alternating between licking and sucking on it while pinching and twisting the other nipple with his free hand.

"Ngh!"

You cried out, throwing your head back as you tangled your hand through his hair while the other blindly grabbed the sheets, twisting and turning it beneath your fingers. You squirmed about on the bed, which pissed Riki off, judging from the feral snarl he let out as he held you down by your hips, his grip hard and vice-like with his claws borderline digging into your skin, hard enough for thin, red-lined marks to be imprinted.

He continued abusing your poor nipples until they were bruised red and covered in a layer of his thick spit, leaving it glistened in the dim room. Riki shifted further down until he dropped to his knees on the floor. You yelped when you were roughly yanked forward by his tail until your lower half hovered in the air. Your legs trembled as they were slung over the hybrid's firm, broad shoulders.

"Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you," he murmured, nosing along your inner right thigh, occasionally nipping at your skin until it turned reddish-purple.

The possessiveness in him gleamed in pride at the thought of you walking around, wearing pants or anything long to hide the marks he left behind on your body, like he's claiming, marking and branding you. Keeping you away from any potential suitors too. Riki continued his adventure until he reached where you're desperately aching for him. He blew hot air, watching with pure hunger at how your pussy throbbed.

"Sensitive already," he huffed, amused.

"P-Please.." You whimpered oh so beautifully for him, further twisting the sheets.

"Please what, doll? C'mon, be a good girl and use your words," he coaxed.

You squeezed your eyes shut, not having the courage to look at him but your action only made him clicked his tongue in disapproval.

Smack!

Your body visibly jolted, taken aback at the sudden stinging pain landing squarely on your bare pussy. Interest flickered across his face at your reaction—how you bit down on your lip and how you got even wetter. Deciding to put his theory to the test, he did it again. Not once. Not twice. But thrice, back-to-back.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Your body trembled like a taut wire, clenching down on nothing as violent shockwaves traversed through you from head to toe. Riki, on the other hand, paused. His mind spun, reeling from what just happened. He didn't give you time to regain your composure, dragging his left index finger along your puffy, soaked folds, making you whimpered from the sensitivity.

"Fuck, you came just like that?" He murmured, in awe.

"W-Wha.."

You mumbled blearily, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, already exhausted. The only form of warning you got was the puma hybrid inching closer until something rough, hot and flat licked a stripe up, from your clit to entrance. You screamed, the sound high and loud that you're certain your neighbors will launch a noise complaint soon.

The thought left your mind as quickly as it formed when Riki moaned, his face buried between your legs. He ate you out messily and sloppily, paying special attention to your clit peeking out. Your body twitched, nearly yanking the sheets freed when he circled it with the tip of his tongue, the sensation driving you up the wall.

Your legs trembled in the air but you couldn't closed them, not when they were hoisted on his strong, muscular shoulders. You hooked your ankles around his neck, tugging him closer and let out a wonton moan when the tip of his nose pokes your clit. He didn't care, pushing further and further in, like he wants to be suffocated between your legs, tasting your sweet, addictive slick on his tongue.

"F-Fuck, so—hngh, good," you panted, back arching off the bed as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on it. The suction was enough for your stomach to tighten, about to cum again, only for him to pull away, letting your clit fall limp against your pussy, all sore and red.

You watched with your head laying on the sheets, chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath as Riki rose to his full height, gently dropping your legs down onto the solid floor. He didn't look away, locking eyes with you while he stripped, starting with the white, tight tank top that does nothing to hide his arm muscles. Once it was gone, his toned and tattooed chest was revealed. Your hands twitched, tempted to trace your hand over it.

He smirked, catching your reaction and hooked his fingers through the hem of his sweatpants that's hanging dangerously low around his hips. He shoved it down, his black Chrome Heart boxers falling as well until its brunched around his ankles. His cock sprung free from the restraints, proudly standing upright, thick, long and veiny.

Your breath stuttered, unable to tear your eyes away from it. Hybrids isn't built very different from humans but despite that, he's… huge. Probably bigger than anyone you've slept with, which was just one person—your ex-boyfriend. The fat, mushroomy tip had turned a ferocious shade of reddish-purple, practically screaming for attention. A fat, thick bead of precum rested on the slit and Riki wrapped a hand around himself, thumb pressing down on the slit.

"Fuck…"

He cursed, eyes fluttering shut and he threw his head back as he fisted his own cock, forming a tight circle with his hand, fucking into it without any shame. You watched from where you were—still laying on the sheets with wide, unblinking eyes. Riki's fangs dug into his plump lips, his slitted eyes were squeezed shut, ears flattened against his head and his tail swished side to side frantically.

You chewed on your bottom lip, snaking your hand down between your breasts, down your stomach and to your pussy. However, before you could reached your destination, Riki let out a feral, hostile and beast-like snarl. He surged forward, grabbing your wrist, holding it in place with a vice-like grip, tight enough to draw a wince from you.

"Don't touch yourself. If you do, you can't cum," he warned you.

His firm words and authoritative tone made you whimpered, feeling unusually small—him as the predator and you as his prey that he managed to catch. Riki shifted, climbing onto the bed and he forced you to shift upward a little. The hybrid crawled forward on his knees, a hand now loosely wrapped around the base of his cock.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head backward. You knew what his intentions was, obediently opening your mouth and let him pushed his cock in. The hybrid purred in pleasure, feeling how tight and warm your cavern was. You made a muffled gagging sound, tears brimming in your eyes at his tip hitting the back of your throat.

He's big and thick, forcing you to further slacken your jaw muscles while covering your teeth with your lips, not wanting to injure him. You had to resort to breathing through your nose, savoring the heavy weight of his cock resting on your tongue. Riki cupped your left cheek, thumb gingerly wiping away the singular tear droplet that slipped, action all sickeningly sweet and oh so mean at the same time.

"Look at you, so pretty and wrecked for me. You're taking me well, aren't you?" He cooed, voice lowering an octave lower.

It's obvious you can't speak, not when your mouth was stuffed full of his cock, which is the reason why he used that condescending and belittling tone with you. Riki smirked, pushing forward a little, picking up the strangled moan you let out and how your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You let him used you like a toy as he fucked your throat, pushing in and out of your mouth at a slow, lazy and borderline teasing pace.

You did your best—tracing the protruding veins with your tongue and hollowed your cheeks for better suction. But god, he's too big. And judging from the knowing, dark glint in his eyes, Riki can tell you're struggling. Which was why he made a faux sweet coo, using his free hand to clasp it around your neck and gave it a light squeeze.

It's not enough to completely cut off your oxygen supply. You knew he wouldn't kill you, not with how smitten he is with you but it's the implication of it. The thought of him possessing both the capability and talent to snap your neck into half, to kill you immediately, made you even wetter, if that's possible.

Riki's eyes darted down, hissing under his breath at the large, dark stains beneath you. "You're one messy and needy slut, aren't you? Can't be satisfied even with your mouth full?"

"Mmpfh."

The hybrid groaned, mouth dropping open at the vibrations running down the length of his cock. "Shit, c-close."

He pulled you closer until his entire cock is in your mouth, your nose rubbing against his bare stomach. You gagged as he cum, painting it in the shade of his thick, hot cum. The hybrid groaned, releasing his grip from your hair and pulled his cock out of your swollen, sore mouth with a loud "pop" sound.

"Swallow it," he demanded, gripping your chin and you obeyed, even opening your mouth to let him see.

He purred, satisfied and tapped your right cheek twice. "Good girl. You deserve a reward, don't you?"

You sniffled, frantically and eagerly nodding. "P-Please.. I've been good."

He chuckled, flipping your position with him now laying on the bed, head on one of his pillows. You squeaked when you ended up on his lap, hands braced on his bare chest, soaking his toned stomach with your slick. Riki patted your thigh, dark eyes drinking in your naked figure shamelessly.

"Come up," he instructed, doing the "come here" gesture with his fingers.

You gulped, complying and crawled upward with shaking knees and hands. Resting one hand on the headboard and the other on your lap, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the puma's mouth. However, you were being too slow, earning an impatient growl from him.

"Riki!"

You cried out when he yanked you down, making you sit squarely on his face. He parted your folds with his left fingers—index and middle, plunging his long, rough and slimey tongue into your gaping entrance, tracing it along the walls and occasionally twisting it. A series of moans and whimpers left your lips at his relentless assault on your poor pussy.

It didn't help that you're still sensitive, which only further heightened the toe-curling sensations. Riki alternated between sucking and licking, like a famished beast that hasn't feasted for three months. He ate you out messily, spit trickling down his chin. You grinded your hips against his skillful tongue, moaning out loud as he pushed two fingers in, pumping them in and out of you.

The double penetration of his fingers and tongue made you further grind into his mouth, craving more. He purred, drunk on the taste of your slick and his tail snugly wrapped itself around your waist, the tip grazing your still-sensitive nipples, drawing a strangled, broken cry from you.

"R-Riki, c-can't.. too much, ngh," you keened, stars exploding behind your vision as he curled his fingers, easily locating that one spongy spot that made your thighs trembled vigorously.

"You can take it, baby," he moaned, voice muffled, tongue gliding along the seam of your folds.

You sobbed, the final straw comes with him sucking on your beyond clit and you cum with a soundless cry, mouth dropping open in an "O" shape, violent shockwaves coursing through your body. You weren't aware you even squirted—transparent, warm liquid gushing everywhere, landing on your sweaty, tangled bodies and the sheets.

Riki groaned, tongue lapping up what you have to offer, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste, ignoring how you squirmed and thrashed about, pussy weakly squirting a few more times before you went limp, bracing both hands against the wall to balance yourself. The hybrid finally detached his lips from you, the lower half of his face completely covered in your slick, practically glistening.

His ears twitched, tongue darting out to lick up your slick covering his lips, moaning at the taste. Your pussy throbbed at the lewd sight and you acted without thinking, scooting down until your cores made contact. At first, Riki was confused, furrowing his eyebrows but it was replaced with realization as he watched, not bothering to help—one hand on his lap while the other is held behind his head and between the headboard.

His breath hitched, watching how you collected your dripping slick, using it as lube before stroking his cock with your slick. It didn't take long for him to fill up and thicken in your grip. He had dreamed of this—having you beneath him as he fucks you, stretching you wide open with his cock, reducing you into a flushed and moaning mess with his name being chanted like a sacred prayer.

But dreams could never come close to the real thing.

The only form of assistance you got was Riki steadying you by your hips when you swayed to the side dangerously. With you holding the base of his cock—fingers barely touching, you aligned him to your stretched-out entrance and sank down in one go.

Both of you moaned in unison at the blinding feeling. The feeling of being connected on an intimate level. The stretch was no doubt painful, enough for your vision to blur slightly. You didn't move, struggling to accommodate to the size and grith of his cock as the pain gradually subsided until it's replaced with a numbing, consistent pleasure.

Riki, on the other hand, had to restrain himself at all costs. He nearly cum right there and then the moment he slides in. His eyes locked in on the prominent bludge on your stomach—right where his cock laid and he saw red.

He acted on instinct, the instinct of a wild, feral beast—manhandling you until your face was shoved into the pillow with you on your knees, your ass raised up high as your back was arched in an seductive arch. Riki wasted no time in pounding into you from behind, his heavy balls slapping against your inner thighs, creating a series of loud "plap, plap, plap" sound that echoed among the four walls of his bedroom.

"Think that pathetic ex-boyfriend of yours can't fuck you better than I can? He can't," he snarled, leaning forward to plaster his chest against your back, one hand grabbing and kneading your left breast within his palm while twisting and pinching your hardened nipple.

You wailed, unable to form a coherent sentence, with how good he's stretching you and how he's filling you up, reshaping your insides to the shape and outline of his cock. The hybrid purred, slowing down his pace as he fucked you slow and nice, ensuring to circle his hips every time he bottomed out, savoring the blissed sigh you let out.

"M-More…" You babbled, head tilted forward with drool running down your chin.

He purred, nosing along your neck as he breathed in your scent. It's mixed with different smells—sweat, your body fluids and sex. But to him, there's no perfect combination other than this.

"More?" He echoed. "You're so greedy, baby. I'm already fucking you and you still want more?"

"M-Mhm!"

"What do you want? Tell me."

Now, you weren't thinking straight anymore, too fucked out to think about anything. So it's normal for Riki to be surprised by the words that left your mouth without you processing it.

"K-Knot me, please," you begged.

Riki's tail straightened, shooting up and his ears flicked upward.

Knot. Knot. Knot.

That was the only word he captured. The only word out of your short sentence. With a deep and guttural growl, he pounded into you with newfound determination. The thought of knotting you until your stomach swells, you waddling around in the house with a swollen baby as you born his children, makes him feral.

You keened as he angled his cock slightly, the tip now hitting that one delicate, spongy spot hidden between your gummy walls. It's enough for your knees to tremble, giving way as you fell into the sheets, trapping his hand between the bed and your chest. Riki clicked his tongue, hoisting you back up with his tail that's around your waist and his free hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, making a temporary ponytail to hold you upright.

He continued fucking into you, quickening the pace and the sound of skin slapping against skin gets louder and louder. You couldn't register the kind of sounds you're letting out but whatever it was, it can rival against a professional pornstar. You had to support yourself with your elbows resting on the sheets as sweat rolled down your cheeks.

"Gonna knot you, pump you full so you can carry my children," he snarled, his slitted eyes locked onto the way your ass cheeks jiggled at every thrust.

You whined out loud at his words, clenching around him and it didn't go unnoticed by him. You snaked your hand between your legs, tracing your fingers around where you're connected before rubbing your clit at the same pace as his thrust.

"G-Gonna cum, hah," you whimpered, your fingers gradually getting soaked from your own slick.

Riki cursed, slapping your hand away and replaced it with his own, drawing a loud, startled cry from you. "Then cum, baby. Let me see you fall apart."

He gave a harsh twist to your engorged clit and that was it. You cum while chanting his name like a sacred prayer, your walls violently convulsing around his cock as your juices ran down the paths of your inner thighs. Riki grit his teeth, sweat landing on the sheets as he felt his knot growing bigger and bigger—a sign he's reaching his climax.

With one last, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and released his hot, thick semen inside while he fucks you through your orgasm, forcing your pussy to milk him dry. You grimace at how incredibly full and sated you felt, stomach bloated with his hybrid cum. His knot remained lodged in your cunt, reaching the entrance to your womb.

Your elbows and knees gave way for the second time as you collapsed into the sheets, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of you covered in body fluids and sweat. You thought it was finally over and that you could get a break.

However, Riki didn't have the same idea in mind.

"Ri—!?"

You made a sound when he thrusted into you from behind—his knot showing no signs of detaching itself from your womb, drawing a hoarse moan from you. You looked over your shoulder, swallowing nervously at the wild, intense look on his face. His dirty ash blonde hair was messed up, some strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. But it was his eyes that made your stomach tightened.

The lust and desire gaze, making you unconsciously clenched down on him, on his cock that's still buried deep inside you.

"We're not done yet, doll," he purred, lips curling up in a promising, dark smirk.

You gasped when he did an experimental thrust into you, creating a loud and wet squelch sound that made your ears heat up. But the embarrassment was gone when Riki pushed your head down into the sheets, rendering you immobile.

"We're not stopping until you take every single drop," he continued, leaving you swallowing, heart beating anxiously as you knew you're in for a long, wild and rough night.

[saintleux]

OTW

yjw 🔞 filo smau

where you start a dirty convo with jungwon, teasing him as he drives to your place to “hang out”

-> younger!jungwon x older!fem reader (both of legal ages)

-> smut (mdni) teasing!

📎 taglish, hints fubu setup, explicit, dirty talks, mommy kink, baby boy kink, use of pictures

©️ credits to the rightful owners of the photos (got them from pinterest)