#BECAUSE YOU AND YOUR STUPID FUCKING FRIENDS

[robinsgrl]

another rafe with weird girl cause i love her and this is totally not something i’ve done before at all……

rafe is a gamer. a fact that you hated. he could play call of duty and all that violent crap for hours, his headset on and yelling and cursing at his teammate. usually, you get bored when he wants to have a marathon with his friends but he placated you enough by getting you that stupid game you like and spoiling you with all the packs. All of them. every single one.

rafe’s in the middle of one of his sessions and you’re playing quietly with your laptop behind him in bed. You’re letting out giggles and moving the screen around with a grin. This is what catches his attention. “what are you doing? are you watching porn again, weirdo?”

you roll your eyes at this and get up off the bed and walk over to him with the laptop at hand. Without a second to spare, you show him your screen. And sure enough, the two sims that you made to look like you and him are fucking. “look. we’re having sex.”

“you’re watching dolls have sex?”

“im watching dolls of us have sex”

“this is weird”

“you had me in that position last night, how is it weird?”

“cause they’re dolls”

“of me and you. we fuck in every universe. Even the sims one”

“that’s different—“

“look he’s eating her out now. that’s what you should do instead of being mean to me”

on the rare occasion that you do play those games with him, you either just follow him around or give up when you get motion sickness. his teammates usually don’t like it when you play because you’ll follow rafe no matter what but he does not give a fuck. there’s nothing he loves more than helping you with the controller and how you cheer when you managed to shoot someone dead, which is very rare. but sometimes… you’re not all that great to play with.

“baby, this button—“

“im pressing the button!”

“no you’re not, im literally watching you and youre not—“

“you’re raising your voice!”

“baby, you’re raising your—“

“i might as well just die already since you hate me so much”

“what are you—“

“look.” you motion to the screen as you move the buttons to make your avatar move back and forth against his. “im humping you”

“what’s your girl doing?” you hear from his headset and from the look in your eyes, he can tell you’re going to answer them with pure honesty. he grips onto the mic of his headset and pushes you back.

“nothing” is his answer as you sit back up and make your character run off into whatever war ridden world you’re playing in.

[bunny-jpeg]

max verstappen, blueberry bars, belgian waffles, tim bits with margarita and root beer. like, reader is max's naive and innocent best friend and he does this without her knowledge, asleep or drugs. she ends up preg and max convinces her that it sometimes happens and promises to take care of her.

bakery menu

want to submit an order? the bakery is open! submit your orders and i'll try to get through them as fast as possible. been a bit of a slow period because of the holdays/end of the year, but i'm making a comeback with 'em since they are very popular with ya'll! i was immediately drawn to this one, i love a good dark fic and i knew i had to write it! so thank you, thank you! enjoy <3

blueberry bars: “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.” + belgian waffles: "i cum in that every night." + tim bits: "stupid little thing." + margarita: unprotected sex + root beer: filming/recording served by max verstappen!

tags: smut/pwp, dark fic/dark themes, filming/recording, unprotected sex, breeding& pregnancy, best friend!reader, non-con somophilia, innocent!reader, mad!max, drugging

the sight of you was beautiful, there was something about your sleeping form that drove him mad. max knew that he could have any woman he desired, but why would he desire them when he could have you. you pulled him in, but even after years of friendship. you never seemed to notice max's advances, and he was getting desperate.

earlier in the evening you complained about not being able to sleep. you were visiting your best friend who was happy to house you in his apartment in monaco, so when max handed you a dainty little pill and told you to have a good night, you happily took it. and when your soft snores could be heard from the doorway of the bedroom, max felt himself getting arousing.

you looked like an innocent princess, and max believed himself to be the prince who will protect you. even if that meant having his hands under your shirt while you were asleep. a prince deserved a reward didn't he?

you laid under the sheet, which max pulled off slowly. you were in a thin tank top and underwear. he felt his heartbeat leap at the sight of you. he took out his phone to take photos.

he chuckled to himself lowly, "i cum in that every night." a cheeky joke as he had spent the last week slipping you a little pill and having his wicked way with you once you were asleep. you were quite nice when you were asleep, so much softer. it only made max yearn for you more. he wanted you, you were just too beautiful. he groaned as he felt tension in his sweatpants, "stupid little thing."

there was hunger inside of him, he needed you. wanted you in carnal ways that he couldn't put into words. the sight of you, he took more photos as he got his cock out of his sweatpants and rubbed it against your now bare stomach. he shuddered, "beautiful little thing. so stupid. need someone to protect you. you need to be saved don't you? well that's what i'm here for." he then got your panties down around your ankle and exposed your entire form to him.

it was only right for him to admire every inch of you, you were going to be his wife. the mother of his child. he said softly, “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.” and you shifted a little, it excited him as he got between your legs. he felt the rush through him as he sank his cock into you.

he had been doing this every night for a week now. every evening like ritual, he made sure you were tucked in, only for him to peel back the sheets and fuck you with a feverish want while you sleep. max had enough of beating around the bush with your love, he was a man of action.

and all he needed was for two little cells to meet before that action became a plan. some would call it baby trapping, but he'd call it a promise of commitment. you weren't going to do it alone, you'd have max every step of the way. he'd even retired to make sure that you and his baby were taken care of.

he could feel the pleasure through his body as he moved against you. he held your legs wrapped around him as he leaned in to kiss you on the lips. he snatched his phone up from the bed and snapped photos and took a small video of his cock being rocked in and out of you. he let out a small groan as the pleasure seeped into his blood. you felt amazing, he eyed your sleeping form as he picked up the pace a little bit more. he filmed a little more and let himself just enjoy the feeling of your slick cunt.

it was like a warm vice that pulled him in further. he took it as a sign that your body wanted it. you wanted this too, to carry his child. of course you did, you were so innocent and sweet. bordering on naive that max knew that you'd want a baby. a chubby little verstappen baby at your hip, you'd make a good mother.

and max knew that, even if you didn't at that moment.

he groaned lightly as he held onto your hips. he felt the climbing warmth in his body as he fucked you. feeling your body against his. your sleeping form was like the future in his eyes. he could imagine your wedding, having your family. you being the perfect wife for him. it was only destiny for the two of you, you had been friends for ages.

he knew everything about you, no other man would be able to compare. to think they could would be stupid to think, you were meant to be with max. for him to dote, love and protect. you didn't need to do anything else besides be his wife and the mother of his children. he had already made enough money to sustain a full house for three lifetimes. you deserved a man who could provide, max knew you 'dated', but they never lasted long. they didn't deserve to be with a woman like you. an angel from the heavens brought to earth.

"i love you." he said, "even when you don't see it. i know you do, i know you love me. you want me badly, but you don't think you're good enough. hopefully when i get you pregnant you can realize that i love you. i need you." his breathing was heavy as he thrusted against you.

there was no protection between you two and honestly he didn't need it. 'protection' wouldn't get you pregnant, wouldn't keep you as his. plus, it felt so much better bare-back. to feel the closeness to you. fill you with his seed and let it take root inside of you. then maybe you'd come to your senses.

maybe he could've done it a different way, but why would we do that? you looked so peaceful, he knew you weren't getting sleep. and max, the dutiful husband, would always make sure that you were alright. he just happened to want your sweet cunt wrapped around his hard cock at the same time. who could blame him, your pussy was the kind to salivate over like a hungry dog.

to love you, in his own twisted way, was a sign of utter devotion. even in your sleep, he would protect you. he knew what was right, and had convinced himself that breeding you while asleep was the best course of action. it'll prove that max is the man you need in your life, the protector. you were so innocent at times, anyone could hurt you!

but not max, at least in his logic.

you cunt felt amazing around his cock. his heart hammered in his chest a she rocked against you. he panted heavily as he moved against you. he held onto your thighs firmly and the dirty talk spilled from his lips. it was hard to make it stop at the feeling of your cunt like a vice around his cock. he rutted up into your further, as deep as he could go, as he said, "you're a fucking good girl. always did everything right, you were so trusting. that's why i have to keep you with me. close to me, where you belong. you're my wife, i knew that from the moment i met you. but the older we get, the further you're getting. time to bring you home. you, me and baby." his voice was hushed, but his words were protective and loving. or his version of loving.

if anyone saw or heard what he was doing. they'd be in shock, but they didn't understand. they didn't get how much you meant to him. he spent so much time trying to find you in other women, but why bother with them when he had you. all of you.

and soon there would be a product of your love. your union together. that only made him work his hips faster against you. you remained limp under him as he drilled his cock into you. your let out a small moan in your deep sleep and it made max near drool as he finished inside of you.

he thrusted quickly against you and felt all semblance of control start to slip. he was left hungry, near feverish from the intensity of the pleasure. he loved it, just as he loved you. of course the love of his life would have a cunt that drove him to near insanity.

he soon finished inside of you after the pleasure took hold. he clutched onto you tightly and felt the intense heights of pleasure. he let out a loud moan before he slowed to a stop. he wiped his sweaty brow and eyed your still sleepy form. it made his cock twitch inside of you for a moment.

he leaned in to kiss you on the lips before he pulled away to get you re-clothed and tucked back in. before he left the room, he kissed you on the face once more and said,

"everything i do. i do for you."

-

you were in tears weeks later, you showed max the pregnancy test when fear in your eyes. and while you looked distraught, max looked excited. the test clattered on the floor as max took you in his strong arms and kissed your face.

"how..how did this happen?" you asked meekly.

max replied with a wide smile, "don't worry about it! it's our little miracle! you and the baby won't go without. we'll have to get a bigger place, and move your stuff back home. or i can buy you new things since you'll be going through so much change... and then of course, i have to marry you. it's only right!" he was already talking like you two had planned this pregnancy.

but it was hard to do much thinking when max held you so protectively. you held onto the front of his shirt and rubbed your face against his chest. you exhaled deeply, still feeling shaken to your core. you held on tightly like a lifeline, knowing that max's child was growing in your womb. a part of you wondered if the things you were feeling late into the night weren't dreams after all. <3

[dorian-they]

and here’s a list from someone who’s made it thru more than 20 years of incapacitating suicidal depression:

- eat some food. I don’t care what it is. Eat it. Any food is better than no food. Preferably with some protein in it but idgaf. Food. Eat it.

- water. Drink it. Put it in a fucking mason jar or some other large container so you don’t have to get up and refill it. Use a fucking vase or tupperware or slurp it from a trough like a fuckin horse for all I care. Water. Large. Drink it.

- whenever you wake up, grab all the food/water you might wanna have for the whole day and put it wherever you’re setting up camp. Doing this when you have the most spoons available is crucial to steps 1 & 2

- pull-tab canned foods are your best friends. keep some cans & utensils by your bed for days when that’s your camp. Best options are gonna be fruits or veggies or protein, but again, any food is better than no food.

- put a toothbrush and/or floss within arm’s reach of your bed and/or wherever you usually set up camp when you’re awake. Scrub it around in your mouth whenever you remember to do it. If you have like $7 to spare, order some Parodontax active gum repair toothpaste online so you can continue eating food with the assistance of your teeth.

- take a daily multivitamin. Get the gummy kind if you want. Most multivitamins will get the job done but if you can spare the brain power to look at the ingredients just make sure it has several types of vitamin B (helps with depression). This will help your body feel less like microwaved shit and you’ll also feel less guilty about the types of food you’re able to get yourself to eat. Less guilty and less shit-feeling body are good. You can even order the vitamins online so you don’t have to remember to pick them up at the store or even leave your house

- do not guilt yourself about showering. Showering is a massive energy drain. Do it when you can, but that’s not the priority. Alive is the priority. Food, water, and having teeth to eat said-food with comes first. Aesthetics do not. If your body is smelly and it’s annoying you but not enough to shower about it, use a wet washcloth to wipe down the area or just slap on some deodorant and call it good. Dry shampoo is also a lifesaver if your hair gets oily

-if you’re not going out, wear the same comfy clothes every day. Or, if you can, just be naked, who cares. Decision fatigue is real and so is fabric sensitivity. Don’t overwork your brain with unnecessary shit. Again, not the priority.

- give yourself regular dopamine hits. watch a stupid video. eat a snack you like. play a few rounds of a cute mindless phone game. read a silly story. watch a show or movie or listen to a song you like, even just in the background. And yes, you still enjoy these things even though your brain hates everything rn. Go get your dopamine hits.

- and speaking of dopamine: if you aren’t sex repulsed, daily masturbation is basically self-serve serotonin and the happy chemicals still work even if you don’t get off so it’s worth it even if that’s a struggle. Plus if you do it before bedtime it can also help you fall asleep.

- lastly, if you manage to do any of these things in any way, shape, or form, take 2 seconds to literally congratulate yourself and/or physically pat yourself on the back/shoulder. Yes, I’m fucking serious. No I don’t care how small the task was. Say aloud or in your head “good job, [your name].” or if that feels too stupid just say “welp you didn’t wanna do that but you did it and now it’s done.” Just any way to acknowledge you did A Thing and now it is Done. Because unlike neurotypicals you have to coax your feral kitten of a brain into giving you happy chemicals after completing tasks. So congratulate yourself. Coax the cat.

if you managed to make it to the end of this, congrats on reading a long ass post about taking care of yourself. You didn’t have to read this, but you did, and now you’ve got some ideas about what might work for you or what won’t work for you. Good job, bud. I’m really glad you care about yourself enough that you took the time to read this

depression tips™

shower. not a bath, a shower. use water as hot or cold as u like. u dont even need to wash. just get in under the water and let it run over you for a while. sit on the floor if you gotta.

moisturize everything. use whatever lotion u like. unscented? dollar store lotion? fancy ass 48 hour lotion that makes u smell like a field of wildflowers? use whatever you want, and use it all over. 

put on clean, comfortable clothes. 

put on ur favorite underwear. cute black lacy panties? those ridiculous boxers u bought last christmas with candy cane hearts on the butt? put em on.

drink cold water. use ice. if u want, add some mint or lemon for an extra boost.

clean something. doesn’t have to be anything big. organize one drawer of ur desk. wash five dirty dishes. do a load of laundry. scrub the bathroom sink. 

blast music. listen to something upbeat and dancey and loud, something that’s got lots of energy. sing to it, dance to it, even if you suck at both.

make food. don’t just grab a granola bar to munch. take the time and make food. even if it’s ramen. add something special to it, like a hard boiled egg or some veggies. prepare food, it tastes way better, and you’ll feel like you accomplished something. 

make something. write a short story or a poem, draw a picture, color a picture, fold origami, crochet or knit, sculpt something out of clay, anything artistic. even if you don’t think you’re good at it.

go outside. take a walk. sit in the grass. look at the clouds. smell flowers. put your hands in the dirt and feel the soil against your skin.

call someone. call a loved one, a friend, a family member, call a chat service if you have no one else to call. talk to a stranger on the street. have a conversation and listen to someone’s voice. if you can’t, text or email or whatever, just have some social interaction with another person. even if you don’t say much, listen to them.

cuddle your pets if you have them/can cuddle them. take pictures of them. talk to them. tell them how u feel, about your favorite movie, a new game coming out.

[hotteokyu]

who are you, who am I

Synopsis ~ No words. No sight. No thoughts. You grew here in this cell, alone. You realize there’s a person on the other side of the cell wall when you hear his cries. You can’t speak. You can’t see. You can’t touch. But he becomes your closest friend. Closer than the silence of the cell. Until that silence is disturbed. And you need more than his soft voice. You need to escape. You need him.

Pairing ~ prisoner!yunho x prisoner!reader

Word count ~ 13.8k

Genre / warnings ~ explicit sexual content MINORS DNI, romance, prisoners, cells, handcuffed, muzzle, blindfolded, mention of forced pregnancy, cult-like implications, stripped for an audience, non-consensual touching at times, a bit disturbing, kind of a roller coaster, murder, blood, cursing, forbidden love, fight for love, yunho's an idol, yunho not referred to by name for most of it, petnames: puppy / princess / baby / etc., desperate touching, desperate love, masturbation, shower sex, oral sex (male recieving), kissing, grinding, rough sex, crying, comfort

a/n ~ tell me what you think ;p

     There’s a person on the other side of the wall. 

     Tied up with thick cuffs, a tight muzzle around your mouth, dark cloth over your eyes. You see the wall with your hands as you roam your cell when master goes away. 

     The lonely, timeless days and nights are all the same, except now you have a friend. 

     He’s silly. When he wants to say hello, he taps the wall in a cute way, tap tip-tip tap tap. 

     He enjoys your company too, becoming comfortably silent as you hum him a song. Your lips can’t move because of the muzzle, so all you’ve ever confessed to him are your songs. 

     He sings for you too, and you love his voice. It’s low, and, if you press close enough to the wall, you can feel its vibrations. 

     You call him puppy in your head because whenever you want to play with him, you hear him eagerly scrambling to get to the wall, just like a little puppy. 

     You wonder what your puppy looks like. You wonder why master keeps him. You wonder if he wonders the same things about you. 

     But today is exciting. Today is a shower day. You’re not sure how often master lets you shower, but you haven’t gone out since you first noticed your new friend. You can hardly sleep, you’re so excited. 

     This could be your chance to see him. 

       The guard comes just as the black of your blindfold starts turning to a dark gray. He guides you with a padded arm out of your cell. You know the exact placement of every crevice in the cell relative to you. You stub your foot into the side of the entrance as he guides you out. You fall to the ground with a harsh slam. The concrete isn’t kind to your skin, and you feel your blood trickle onto the ground nicely. 

     The guard curses and grabs your scraped arm, pulling you to stand. He’s impatient, the tight schedule of the dungeon pulling his mind toward careless rushing. 

     He guides you again, whispering to himself in annoyance, and you stumble over his foot, almost crashing to the ground again. 

     “Fuck!” he growls. “Why do you need this stupid fucking blindfold anyway?!” He’s whispering but screaming in frustration, spitting into the air as his hand yanks the blindfold from your eyes. 

     And suddenly the light is blinding you for the first time in forever. 

     “Don’t tell anyone, bitch,” the guard spits, and you nod, blinking rapidly as he urges you to move again. 

     You go right, eyeing the next cell. Its glass is squeaky clean. He’s new, just like you thought. As you walk, slowly, stumbling in pain, you look closely into the cell, and, finally, you see him there. 

     Your puppy. 

     He’s big, hands tied up on his bed and black prisoner rags baggy on his figure. His muzzle matches yours, by what you’ve gathered from feeling it, desperately scratching to get it off. His head lays sleepily and sadly on the mattress, and his hair is a dark brown, nearly black, wavy as it falls into his eyes. And his eyes… aren’t covered like yours should be. They’re wide, and beautiful, and gazing right at you. Your puppy nearly jumps from his bed, his pupils trembling, but you slowly shake your head, and he freezes. 

     You love your puppy even more now, innocent and adorable as he begs you with his eyes to stay in his view. But the only thing you can give him is a squint of your eyes to show your attempt at a soft smile. 

     And then you turn the corner, and he’s gone. 

     You shut your eyes tight, facing straight forward as the guard guides you, though you know the route by heart. When you stop, it’s not at the showers, and when the guard suddenly hits the floor, you know he’s dead. 

     “My, look at you.” Master’s voice is chilling, but you’ve grown numb to it over time. He likes to talk, for you can do nothing but listen. “My favorite girl knows how to act,” he praises. The blindfold, lying uselessly around your neck, is yanked back over your eyes. “She knows that if she opens her eyes, she’ll be killed.” He pats your shoulder, stroking it lightly with his thumb, and you press your lips together tightly, the uncomfortable damp warmth of his skin making a quick gag approaching their seal. You feel his breath beside your ear, a thick string of drool between his teeth as he stretches his lips with his words. “I might have to reward her.”

       The shower never felt so rewarding as it does after having that creature lay his hand on you. You can hear his slime slick from his skin to the floor as he moves. As the cold water spills over your shoulders, you sigh, feeling it all melt away as if it’s steaming. 

     The water slides down your bare body, one you’ve never seen, its form unfamiliar to you, as you haven’t known yourself since being a little girl. You feel the metal of the belt around your hips. You don’t know why they cover your genitals with this belt, but it makes cleaning very difficult. 

     But now, alone where no one but the stream can see you, you could grin if not for the muzzle restricting your lips. Your mind keeps straying to his face, one you’ve, since you first heard his gentle cry from the other side of that wall, dreamed of seeing. You were able to witness for a split second. And you’re addicted.

As soon as you’re put back in your cage and the clacks of the guard’s shoes leave the hallway, your puppy scrambles to the wall. He hums softly but eagerly, quietly so that no one knows, but loud enough for you to know it's desperate. He whines softly until you hum back. You can imagine him now, head resting against the wall, hair dragging softly along its surface as he stares into the concrete as if he might see you. He wants to see you again, you can feel it in the whimpers as he scrapes against the wall. You want to see him again, too. But that desire can’t overtake you. You’ve lived here, grown here in this dungeon. You know patience is the only way you can even have the privilege of thinking about getting what you want. 

     For now, you close your eyes and think of your beautiful puppy’s face. You drift to sleep like that, listening to his soft, even breaths. 

     When you awake, the blindfold is pitch black. The dungeon is silent except for your puppy’s breath. It isn’t even or calm. He must be having a bad dream. He’s panting, soft, muffled whimpers reaching your ears. You sit up, your brows furrowing. Something isn’t right. There’s a new sound, one you’ve never heard before, from his side of the wall. Something slow and wet rubbing together. Could it be that the poor puppy was so scared in his sleep that he had an accident?

     “Mm?” you call out softly, and he gasps. The noise stops instantly, and he goes silent. You hum again, quietly, with pure concern, and he whimpers, almost guiltily. 

     No, it’s okay, puppy, you’re not in trouble. 

     But then the sound continues, and he lets out a shaky breath. You smell something sweet in the air, something warm and new. Your eyes grow wide as it all clicks suddenly. Looking down at your hands tied in front of you, your mind wanders quickly to what he might be doing just a few inches away from you. He’s panting now, his breaths vocal and soft and desperate. He’s trying to hold his voice back, his nose working hard but failing to breathe. You hear him squirm against the concrete, and you can imagine it vividly, having seen him with your own eyes. And he’s beautiful, pleasuring himself. His voice, higher than its usual low, soothing tone, needy and shameless. His body, thin yet large, clinging to the wall as he bends his tied arms uncomfortably just to make himself feel good. It’s wet. It’s so wet. He’s leaking all over himself, his precum lubing himself as he goes faster and faster. 

     Puppy has never acted like this before. Why is he suddenly so desperate? And why is just hearing him like this making you so dazed?

     His breath grows heavier, his movements desperate, his rhythm lost until it suddenly stops, and his voice disappears, the wet slide of his hand going slow until it stops completely, and he’s able to catch his breath. 

     You sigh, leaning your head against the wall. He had all that fun without you and expects you to be patient with your plan? How are you not supposed to rush to see him?

     You sleep on your bed for the rest of the night. He deserves to sleep alone after making everything so much more difficult for you. You could scream into your pillow. You need more than just hums and songs through the wall. You need to be with him. 

       Master comes to visit you more often these days. He never comes inside, and you’re grateful. He just talks to you, tells you about his problems. It’s good that he’s warming up to you, that you’re his favorite. You want something from him. 

     On the seventh time he comes to visit, you come up close to the glass and put your hand against it.

     “What is it, girl?” he asks, coming closer. You can hear his breath near your face, but you force yourself to stay there. You slowly reach with your hands and grasp your muzzle, tilting your head with furrowed, pleading brows. Then, you touch the glass again, right where his breath sounds. He hums. “Now, what could my little girl possibly need her mouth for?” But, of course, you can’t tell him. You sit there, pleading with your grip on the glass, until he sighs. “I suppose she could keep me company.” 

     That night, when the blindfold starts to grow darker, the muzzle is unlatched from your jaw. Your face aches and trembles as you stretch your lips for the first time in years. It hurts, but it’s so amazing, finally having your jaw free. Finally, you can start your escape. 

     Master doesn’t come back for a while. He said he will be busy, but you should reteach yourself to speak properly for when he returns. You will. You’ll talk all night long, all day, all week, forever to your wall. For your master, of course. 

     Puppy knocks quietly on the wall, and you’re the one who scrambles to meet him there in excitement. He’ll be so happy. He’ll want to escape with you. He’ll help you, and you can get out of here. And you’ll be together.

     Your breath trembles as you gaze at the black of the cloth, sitting on the cold floor in your tightly bound clothing, staring toward the wall. He’s silent. He must have heard everything. He listens well when you have visitors. He must know that he’ll finally be able to hear you speak to him. 

     “I…” Your voice is soft, only for his ears. “I’m Y/n.” He hums happily. Maybe he likes your name. “Do you know… you’re so pretty?” you ask, knowing he can’t answer. He’s quiet, and you can imagine the soft blush on his cheeks. “I’ve been alone for years. You’re my only friend. All I want is to see you again. You’re so pretty…” You lean your head against the wall, wishing it wasn’t there more than ever. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

     “Mhm!” he immediately responds, and you can’t stop the wide smile that you can finally make without close restrictions.

     “Is that why you were so worked up? The time you saw me?” He goes quiet, even his little excited breaths disappearing for a moment. 

     “Mhm…” He’s quiet, embarrassed. 

     Your face starts to heat up, as if you could feel his warm breath across your skin. “It’s not fair,” you whisper, “that you get to touch yourself when I can’t.” He huffs, a soft laugh echoing throughout the cells. “Is that funny?” you scoff, but he just continues his gentle laugh until you can’t help but smile too, tilting your head in disbelief.

     You lay and talk to him for hours. Or forever. You can’t keep track of time, but the cloth grows grey, and you’re still talking. He’s so engaging, in all ways that he can be. You tell him stories of your life before coming here and even funny things you’ve encountered in the cell. You ask him how the world has changed, and he’s mostly responded no to your guesses. 

     “But who are you,” you sigh, laying on your back, staring at the ceiling through the thick mask over your eyes. “What’s your name? I want to know so bad.” He sighs. “How old are you? Why are you here? What was your life like?” But he can’t answer. “For now, you’ll just be my friend.”

       “My girl, your voice is as pretty as ever. You’re almost fully developed, I can see. Soon, we’ll put you on display for the elders.” Master takes your hands in his, clasping them harshly, and you fight the urge to pull away. “Since the elders would love you even more with those lips of yours bound up, I’ll let you have them out until they see you.” You force a soft smile. 

     “Thank you,” you whisper, “Master.”

     “Oh, that sounds nice,” he coos. “Is that what you call me in that tiny head of yours?” You nod. “How obedient.”

     “I want to be good for you.” 

     He sighs with a soft chuckle. “I knew you were special since you were just a little girl. Now, look at you.”

     Fuck, you’re going to throw up. No, no, hold it in.

     “Thank you for looking after me, Master,” you say, keeping the smile plastered on your lips.

     He sighs before moving away from you. “Prepare her carefully over the next few days. Make her perfect. By Sunday, I want her in the tank.”

     Your eyes grow wide in both horror and relief. This is it. 

     “Thank you, Master,” You say, and his hand taps your cheek.

     “Enjoy your voice, girl. It’ll be gone again soon.”

      “Puppy, don’t be scared,” you whisper through the wall. He’s breathing heavily, soft, suppressed sobs escaping his lips. “Shhh… It’ll be okay. I’ll protect you no matter what.”

     “Mhm,” he whimpers. “Mhm. Mhm…” His voice is breaking. He’s crying, and yet you can’t reach out and wipe the tears from his cheeks. Your fists clench, bound together uselessly. 

     “I won’t go anywhere without you,” you whisper.

     The footsteps echoing through the hall don’t belong to a guard or master. It’s someone new.

     “I’ll come back for you no matter what.”

     “L/n. Please come with me.” It’s a lady. She has a soft voice, but she raises it knowingly to something commanding yet comforting. She won’t hurt you. She’s simply following orders. No malice. No evil. You get up, staring at the wall as if you could see it or your puppy sitting with wide, tear filled eyes, desperately trying to be silent. 

     You follow her. No need for a guide. When she sits you down in a cushioned chair, she slowly removes the blindfold from your eyes. The room is dimly lit, as they understand you haven’t used your eyes in years. You keep them closed. 

     “Open your eyes,” she says, and you do. “Look straight ahead. Do not let them stray.” You do. 

     In front of you is a TV. You saw them in your home when you were younger before the day you were sold away. It’s a small box, showcasing an auditorium. You’ve only ever seen one of those once when you went to a theater with your mother. The audience on the TV is filled with old people, both men and women. They’re watching the stage, but you can’t see what exactly it is. The camera is on the stage, it seems. 

     “Have you seen their faces before?” the lady asks, and you stare harder at the screen. Glancing from face to face, you come to realize, you know only one. You nod. “Which one?”

     “Right side. Third row. Seven seats in.”

     She writes it down. 

     “Any others?”

     “No.”

     “And who is that lady then? Whom you recognize?” 

     She’s old, but, of course, anyone would recognize her if they were you. You dreamed about her face every night or whenever sleep would grace you. You dreamed about what you would do to her if you ever saw her again. Old, wrinkly, and ugly, but surely her…

     “My mother.”

     She writes it down. 

     “How many years have passed,” you ask curiously. You can’t take your eyes off of her. Senses unbound completely, your expression contorts into something small and furious, “since the day I came here.”

     “Don’t scrunch your face,” she says, and you stop. “We’ve worked hard preserving your features. Don’t ruin it, or he’ll kill you for being useless.”

     Your brow twitches at the new information. Preserving your features? That makes sense. In your muzzle and blindfold, you could hardly move your face, your smiles stiff and restrained, features moving but hardly without great pain. 

     “Will I get to meet her again?” you ask, and she writes silently, the scribbles of the pencil filling the room as you watch the old people on the screen, frustration filling you.

     “You’ll know soon enough.” She senses your body heat rising quickly. “Be patient.”

     Right, she’s right. Patience.

     “She’ll be rewarded greatly for her sacrifice,” she says.

     “Who are the elders? Them?” you question, but she doesn’t answer.  

     “Tomorrow, you’ll be groomed and then put in a new cell so you look perfect for Sunday.”

     “What day is it today?” you ask, a sudden rush of concern hitting you. Do you only have a day to figure everything out?

     “Return her to her cell.”

     No. No, that’s not enough time. You thought you had more time. You can’t figure everything out in a day. If you’re taken away… you won’t get to escape. It’ll be over. You can’t do it. You can’t figure it out.

     Rough hands cover your features with your muzzle and blindfold, and everything is once again locked away.

       Your cell is silent until it’s not. The guard has left, but there’s a body looming over you. Your eyes are wide, your lips quivering. They smell familiar, and the trembling breath is something you know well, but it’s not possible. It isn’t until soft, trembling hands scratch at your blindfold that you see him. His forehead is pressed against yours, his body pushing you into the wall. His brows are pinched as he desperately gazes from one eye to the other. Puppy.

     His whimpers would meet your lips if not for the muzzles surrounding our mouths. He’s surrounding you completely, much bigger, much stronger than you, but he doesn’t even realize it, trying to be closer and closer to you. Though your hands are bound, he wants to touch you, sitting between your legs as he brings your bodies as close as possible. 

     You’re confused, and concerned, and overwhelmed, but the happiness of seeing your puppy right here in front of you overshadows all of those feelings. Tears are dripping from his eyes, maybe from bliss or worry. It’s so beautiful. 

     You lean closer, letting your head fall to his shoulder. His whimpers meet your ear, his soft breaths matching your own. 

     You look around and immediately spot the hole in the corner of your cell. Fuck, if anyone finds that, you’re both dead. You’ll cover it with your bed. It makes you laugh, just how small the hole is compared to your big puppy. He must have been so desperate to see you, squeezing in any way he could. 

     And then your laugh fades, and a tear drips from your eye. 

     It’ll be okay. 

     You push him away gently, and even so he’s reluctant. It takes a soft, reassuring hum to get him to move away. His eyes are so pretty, big and bloodshot, just for you to gaze into. You slowly close your eyes, and he pulls the blindfold over them once again. Then he’s gone, the soft scrape of your bed against the concrete sealing him into his side of the wall. 

It’ll be okay. 

You’re stripped almost completely, the only things left being the cuffs around your wrists, the chastity belt, and the muzzle around your jaw. A body once bound tightly by clothing is now bare. Your youthful features are perfect in their eyes. They’ve done a phenomenal job preserving them. To you, they’re unfamiliar. Ugly. Not your own. The only thing familiar to you which you want at all is your puppy. The compliments they give you as you walk down the halls, eyes unbound but closed, are disgusting, if anything, but meaningless. You become deaf for the first time in years. Your only sense has always been your hearing, but now you forget that too. You are nothing for the long minutes walking mindlessly down the hall, hands tied to a man, tied to Master, tied to the audience that you will be presented to. 

     When you open your eyes again, the tank is here. It’s on the stage which was blocked on the TV. It’s full of clear liquid, but it must not be water. Its surface doesn’t dare move. It’s thick, almost solid. The final preservation. 

     “Ladies and gentlemen!” Master has never raised his voice to such an extent before. It’s always been quiet and broken, just for your ears. Now, he speaks to hundreds, if not thousands of elders much like him. “Our latest graduate! Her visuals are phenomenal, voice like a siren, and obedient like the perfect woman!” The room erupts in a quick laughter. “We’ve grown her from a young girl to a beautiful adult, donated by one amongst you! Please take a close look! She’s a beauty!” 

     You’re urged forward, your feet stumbling momentarily until you’re brought under a blinding spotlight. You can’t see the audience anymore, only imagine the faces some of them would make as he described you. Tongues darting out, wrinkly, cracked lips wetted, smirks, trembles as they said something to the person beside them. The years locked in your cell, you could never even guess as to why you were locked away. You still have no idea what’s happening, but if you had known your eyes would adjust to this light and see those faces, staring at you, drooling at you, bare in front of them, you would have risked it all to run away. Fuck patience. 

     Now your master’s slimy, clammy hands are pushing you toward that tank. And you can say nothing. Do nothing but look. Hands and mouth bound, you can do nothing but look.

     The liquid is thick. You’ve only ever touched water, so what could this possibly be? It’s sticky, drawing you inside slowly and carefully. To your legs. To your hips. Your body trembles, cold, terrified. 

     “This graduate is simply too perfect to sell,” Master explains to the audience, gently stroking your hair. You almost give in and push him away. “But, if we have one perfect girl, why not twenty more? Why not fifty?!” He laughs, and everyone follows along. “I’m sure you’ve read all about our new technology! It’s revolutionary! This fluid preserves her youthful features both externally and internally. Her eggs won’t die with age. She can produce to her full capability while frozen in the tank! Isn’t it wonderful?”

     You can hear your heart over the oohs and aahs of the creatures in the crowd. It’s loud and fast yet not fast enough to support your churning mind. Should you kill yourself right now? That thought enters twice for every three thoughts of escape entering your mind. You really should. You should just kill yourself before your body enters this fluid completely. 

     It’s up to your chest, your arms frozen practically solid already. You’re gone. You’re done. You can’t even end your life. This is your ending. 

     It’s to your neck. Your heartbeat is gone from your ears, from your chest, but it continues on. It’s odd. It’s frozen, but you move slowly into it. It stops all functions, but all of your senses are enhanced within its cold envelope. It seeps into the muzzle, filling what little space is creviced in its metal to your lips to your jaw. You can’t breathe, but somehow the fluid breathes for you, air entering and exiting your lungs at a steady rhythm. Your ears. You can’t hear any longer, as if you could before. As if everything hadn’t gone numb the second you learned the truth. The second you saw the tank. The audience. Your eyes are too late to close as they’re submerged in the fluid. They won’t close. They won’t flutter. They look out into the audience, wide and unrestricted. Finally, you can see. Forever you’ll see. This is what you’ll see. The top of your head is overtaken by the fluid, and the tank closes. Everything is silent. Everything is numb. Everything is fucking over. 

     And you have to watch it all happen.

     Master comes around the front of the tank holding a tube of sorts. He opens a little door on the front of the tank and reaches into the fluid. Nothing spills out. It stays obediently still. He reaches the tube toward your chastity belt, but freezes, his eyes darting to the tank. Through the tank. He looks terrified, eyes bulging from their sockets. He drops the tube, desperately tugging at his arm to free it from the fluid. He turns to run, but a hand grabs his hair and slams him to the ground. You would start sobbing at the sight. Puppy, livid, veins bulging from his arms to his neck to his face. He raises his arms high, and when he slams them down, an axe splits Master’s head from his neck. The blood sprays over the glass of the tank, covering it completely. You hear a muffled slam and then the entirety of the glass shatters all at once. It collapses around you, but the fluid stays all the same. You see him, panting, painted red, glaring at you as he grips the axe, now snapped in two. 

     When he finally drops it, his brows soften, his veins pulsing but calming as he reaches out. His hands rush through the fluid, faster than they should be able to. He grabs you, and he pulls you to him until only the remnants of the fluid touch your skin, and you’re held tightly in his arms. You fall limp, the coating of the fluid preventing you from being able to move much. Even if you could, you might’ve just let your puppy take you away, leaning your cheek against his chest. The hallway, as he runs from the stage, is covered in blood from the floor to the ceiling. You close your eyes, feeling his hold on you tighten the further he travels and the bloodier the stench and the sight becomes. Until you hear something you haven’t heard in years. 

     Birds. 

     Trees. 

     Wind.

     Him. 

     You let your eyes look up into the sky. It’s so blue. Who knew something could be so blue?

     You recognize the glass box, the phone, the city. It’s timeless, unchanging from what you remember. It’s familiar. How nice. Puppy sets you down, and you lean weakly against the glass. He strips his shirt from his skin and quickly fumbles it over your head. What was tight on him is huge on you, covering you from your shoulders to your thighs. His chest is bare, but he doesn’t care.

     He works quickly on your cuffs. They’re practically unbreakable. Night after night, you would desperately rub them and scratch them and bang them however you could, but they were unbreakable. He snapped them in two, the metal falling to your lap uselessly. Your hands tremble as they reach out… uncuffed. His eyes look from one to the other as your hands cup his cheeks, fingers wrapping around the latch to his muzzle. It’s much like yours, only bigger. With a few motions, it too was gone, and you could see his pretty features completely. He was adorable, soft, newly abused lips perfect and plump, trembling as he paws at your own muzzle. He must not know how to take it off. His lips form a gentle scowl in frustration as he grips and pulls at it. You let him struggle for a while, smiling softly. How nice this feels… to be wanted so desperately. To be loved so thoroughly. 

     “Y/n,” he whimpers, and your eyes twitch, tears just touching the surface at the simple sound, so low, so pretty from his voice. “Help me, please,” he whispers. 

     You cover his hands with your own, and he leans his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed as you slowly unlatch your muzzle. You set it aside and run your fingers through his hair, pulling his head just a bit closer. His breath trembles against your lips, so comforting as you start to shiver in the cool breeze. 

     “What’s your name?” you whisper, and his eyes flutter open.

     “Yunho,” he answers, gazing at your lips as they form a gentle smile. 

     “Yunho,” you repeat. “Yunho. Yunho is pretty too. So pretty.”

     “You lied to me, Y/n,” he whispers, and your smile fades. He’s hurt. “You said you would come back no matter what, but you didn’t.” His jaw clenches, and your lip trembles as you slowly slide your hands from his hair. 

     “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I’m sorry, Yunho, I-”

     He grabs your hands and keeps them there, stopping their retreat. He shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s okay,” he says. “It’s okay, Y/n, I came for you. I wanted to promise you that I would and- and I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t say anything, but now I can. I would have followed you even if you never came back.” He nods, gazing into your wide, tear-filled eyes. “Just don’t go, please. Please, don’t go. Stay here, a-nd we’ll get help, and we’ll be o-okay.” 

     You nod immediately, and his hands slowly slip from yours, a soft sigh leaving his lips. 

     He looks away, a deep blush on his blood-splattered cheeks. “Thank you,” he mumbles, a small, relieved smile shyly spreading on his lips.

     The change piled on the phone, a kind gesture by the locals, trembles as he picks them up one by one. He takes a shaky breath as he finally brings the phone to his ear. It clicks softly as the other person picks up. “Hyung…”

  You wait in an alleyway. It’s dark, the only light flickering above your heads. You’re tucked close together, your face nuzzled into the side of his neck. It’s freezing, but you have nothing but the heat of your bodies to keep you warm. His friend is coming quickly, but it’s been an hour at least. You’re both shivering, breathing the same air, holding each other close. Until the alley lights up, and a car screeches to a halt a bit away. You both glance up, eyes wide and hopeful. 

     “Yunho!” a man shouts, stumbling out of the car. He rushes over to you as Yunho slowly helps you to your feet.      

     “Yunho, I’m gonna kill you!” another man, a lighter voice, screams as he jumps out of the other side. 

     They both run, tears streaming down their cheeks as they collide with their friend. Yunho stumbles against the wall. The tinier one holds him so tightly, placing kisses all over his face as he sobs. The taller one’s eyes are wide, wiping the blood from Yunho’s cheeks, bombarding him with questions. 

     Yunho holds you close against him, unforgotten, even as they don’t even notice you at first. 

     “Get in the car quickly,” the taller one urges, pushing the both of you gently toward the vehicle. “What’s your name, sweety?” he asks, voice low and comforting to your frozen ears. 

     “Y/n,” you say, voice trembling. 

     “I’m Seonghwa,” he says softly. “This is Wooyoung.” He asks you no questions, and you’re so grateful. You just want to be warm. 

     The car is so toasty, the seats a heater themselves as you sit in its sanctuary. You want to melt into them, hardly registering as Wooyoung buckles you in before quickly getting into the front seat. You close your eyes, sighing in relief. Finally, out of the cold, out of danger, with your puppy. Everything is alright. 

     “Yunho,” Seonghwa’s deep voice softly begins, “what happened?”

     He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, taking a slow breath. “I woke up in a cell,” he says, and your heart aches. So they take everyone in their sleep. “They put a muzzle on me a-nd cuffed my hands.” He bites his lip. “And they gave me shots every day.”

     “What the fuck?!” Wooyoung shouts, turning back in horror. “They fucking drugged you?! What were they for?! Who the fuck are they?!”

     “I don’t know,” Yunho groans. “But my body feels so weird now.” You watch as he swallows hard. “I get aggressive and weirdly strong sometimes… How long was I gone?” 

     It’s silent for a long moment “About four months,” Seonghwa says. He grips the steering wheel hard, his knuckles growing white. “ATEEZ is on hiatus. Your disappearance became public after the first month.”

     “ATEEZ…?” you mumble to yourself.

     “It’s on the news daily. They haven’t closed the case,” Wooyoung says. “Though they’re close to. Fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay. We’ll go to the police and call everyone over.”

     Yunho has such a relieved, happy smile on his face, lightening his features so nicely. He’s leaning his head on the seat, his hand gently touching yours as the car silently drives through the city streets. 

     “How did you and Y/n meet?” Seonghwa asks curiously.

     “She was in the cell next to mine. We couldn’t talk or anything, but we, like, sang or.. hummed to each other… and stuff…” His voice trails off as he looks out the window with a deep blush trailing from the tip of his nose to his ears. 

     “Wow!” Wooyoung’s exasperated sound turns to a loud laugh. “You’re truly an idol, Jeong Yunho!” 

     You gasp, and his face turns deeper into the window. “You’re an idol?”

     He nods. 

     You’re about to freak out, but Wooyoung changes the topic quickly. 

     “By the way, Y/n, what uh.. are you covered in? Like, what is all that?” 

     You look down at your bare arms and almost gag at the dried, sticky goo all over your skin. You forgot all about it. 

     “I wish I knew,” you mumble. 

     “Hyung, can you take us to the dorms first? So we can get clothes and showers please,” Yunho asks, and Seonghwa nods through the mirror, smiling sweetly. 

       “Should I call a manager?” Seonghwa asks as Yunho guides you through the apartment. “Does she need he-?”

     “No,” he interrupts, and you all wince, pausing at the bite in the word. His expression is scrunched, stern, mean, but it softens quickly. “No, we’ll be okay, Hyung, thank you.”

     “We’ll pick you up in the mor-!”

     The door was closed before you could even register being dragged gently into a room. Yunho’s breath is a bit uneven. Is he feeling sick? Maybe overwhelmed? He’s looking around the room a bit frantically. Everything is nice and clean, you note. Maybe his friends… or members took care of the room while he was gone. Yunho brings you to his bed and sits you down with a reassuring smile, but it twitches softly. 

     “Yunho,” you mumble, and he pauses to gaze into your confused eyes. “Are you okay?”

     He nods. “I’m okay,” he says softly. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

     He starts to walk away, but you reach out and take hold of his fingers, and he stops. “Where are you going?” you ask, gazing shyly at him. He lets a giddy smile stretch his lips. 

     “I’m going to start the shower,” he says, and you hesitantly let go of him. “You can wash first, but wait here while I get it ready.”

     “Will…” you swallow hard, staring down at your sticky hands with flushed cheeks. “Will you go with me?” His eyes are hooded, gazing at you as you tug at his shirt draped over you. “I need help getting it all off of me, and…” You lift the shirt just enough for the metal of the belt to peak out.

     “Of course, I’ll go with you,” he breathes, staring at what you’ve exposed with a heavy breath. He gently tilts your chin, his thin eyes gazing at your plump lips as he runs his thumb over them gently. He bends down, his warm breath meeting yours. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away suddenly and bringing you to your feet. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

     The water fills the bathroom with a soft steam, but he makes sure you feel it so it’s not too hot. You’ve never had a warm shower before. You’ve never showered with another person, let alone your favorite person. You already know it’ll be your new favorite thing. 

     Yunho strips behind you as you’re testing the water with your hand. You hear his clothes drop to the floor, but you don’t turn around, until his fingers are tugging lightly at the shirt on your shoulders.

     “Do you want to keep this on for now, Y/n?” he asks, and you shiver at the low sound of his voice as he says your name. It’s sensual, weirdly erotic, even though it’s just your name. You shake your head. “You don’t have to take it off. We can clean you with it on.” 

     “No,” you mumble, turning around to face him. You keep your gaze high, watching his gentle eyes with flushed cheeks. His ears are red, the tips so bright. “You can take it off.” His eyes twitch as they lower to the top. They seem to be growing less big, less shy, and a little darker.

     His fingers slip under the shirt, grazing your skin. It’s soft in some places, sticky in others. You can’t wait to feel him against you once you're clean and untarnished from that place. You want him to rewrite everything with his hands. Make you forget. Make you his own. 

     He slides them higher, and you slowly lift your arms with his subtle command. The shirt falls to the floor, and he groans softly as he gazes at your chest, your nipples erect from the sudden chill. 

     He guides you quickly into the shower, and the warm stream feels like heaven on your shivering skin. You’re covered in little bumps as you try to drown every inch of your body in its warmth. Yunho watches as you sigh under the water, loving how it slips from your hair to your shoulders to your hands. Every part of you is beautiful. He wants to feel every inch, every crevice. He just needs that fucking metal torn from your hips first. But he can be patient. If he breaks it now, he won’t be able to control himself. 

     So, as he joins you under the stream, he distracts his thoughts with your happy little smile, indulging himself with his own. You’re soaked, and he can’t help but gently push your dripping hair from your forehead, revealing your squinted, pretty eyes, big and shining just for him. 

     “It’s gonna feel so good once you’re all soft and fluffy,” he says. The goo from the tank is softening and melting in the water. You let Yunho scrub you softly, your hair first, making it smooth and clean, your arms next. He’s focused, cleaning every speck thoroughly until your skin is perfect. Your legs are next, from your thighs to your feet, he kisses softly as he cleans, and it sends little jolts of flutters to your stomach… and to your core. You keep your eyes locked on his hair as it rubs against your clean skin slowly with his careful motions. He turns you around, and your eyes meet the tiled wall. He gently moves your hair as he cleans your back. It feels so nice, therapeutic, and it’s making you relaxed, as if he could take care of you forever, and you would entrust yourself completely to him. 

     “Here, love,” he whispers, handing you the loofah. “Do you want to clean your front?” 

     You blush as you gaze down at your breasts. They would fit so nicely in his hands, the soft scratch of the loofah teasing your nipples. Your eyes grow wide as you quickly shake away your thoughts.

     “Would you feel more comfortable?”

     You could melt at the warmth of his heart. He’s the sweetest thing you’ll ever know. 

     “No,” you breathe, slowly taking his hand and guiding it to your chest. “I need your help here too,” you whisper.

     A soft chuckle meets your ear, and you shiver as his arms wrap around you, pulling your back to his chest. “Is that right?” he hums, gently caressing your skin just under your breasts. 

     He runs the loofah over your nipples, and you bite your lip at the soft scratch. You watch as his thumb gently rubs the soap into your chest, squishing the flesh just barely, teasing both you and him as he watches every twitch of your body. He cleans your stomach, his fingers swiping lightly at the edge of the belt, and you whine. 

     “Does my princess need help here too?” he asks, and your heart flutters at the name. You nod, biting your lip hard as you watch his long fingers drape over your stomach. They cover you completely, and you practically whimper at the sight alone. “Hmm?” he hums, and you nod again. “Come on, Y/n,” he whispers, his fingers sliding between your breasts to your throat, just gently, just barely wrapping around you there. You tremble, not in fear, but in bliss. They’re hot and smooth against you, dangerous yet perfectly safe as he presses a soft kiss to your jaw. “What does my princess need?”

     “Here,” you gasp, grasping the belt. It doesn’t budge, the lock clattering against you as you hold it tightly. “Please, I need it off. I need you h-here, Yunho…”

     “Good girl,” he groans, his hand leaving your throat and grabbing the lock. With a single tug, it's gone, thrown onto the floor, and the belt follows. You feel something hot spill down your thighs, and you can’t tell if it’s the water or the desperate state he has you in, but it doesn’t matter as his fingers dip into your folds, and you melt into his chest, your body trembling as he runs his finger through your heat with a warm breath at your ear. “It’s messy down here,” he hums, his voice low, a soft growl against your skin. “Were you thinking naughty thoughts?” 

     You don’t even try to deny it, nodding as your hands travel up your body, grinding your heat against his hand. 

     “No,” he scolds, taking away all pressure against you as he places your hands at your sides. “We can’t make more of a mess, Y/n,” he warns quietly, caressing your inner thigh with his teasing fingers. You can’t handle all of his teasing, though. You’re biting your lip, your cheeks hot and heat clenching around nothing. 

     “Yunho,” you whimper, “sh-shouldn’t you also clean your body?” His hold slowly loosens on you, and you turn around, gazing at the small smear of blood on his cheek, the scratch on his neck, and the little scratches of red throughout his body. “I’ll help you.”

     You go to take the loofah, but he drops it to the floor, eyes locked on yours. “Use your hands.”

     His skin is already so soft, so perfect, as you rub the soap along his body, from his neck, behind his pink ears, to his shoulders, broad and higher than your eyes. He’s so big, even bigger now as you clean every inch of his skin. Your fingers pass over his chest, and he sighs. You feel his heartbeat, fast like yours, and… you swallow hard as your arm bumps against his hardness, moving quickly along, but he tilts his head, lifting a brow curiously.

     “That’s not very thorough,” he says, and you avoid his gaze as you finish scrubbing his arms, working hard with two hands.

     “Sh-should I help you?” you ask, finally bringing your eyes to meet his. His eyes are hooded, staring at your body as you work so close to him. “Yunho?” He hears you now, bringing his eyes to yours. Your hand slowly travels, soap bubbling along his skin as you gently wrap your fingers around him. He twitches in your hand, his eyes snapping to your touch. “Look how messy it is,” you breathe, your voice trembling as you watch precum bead at the tip. He’s so big, just like the rest of him, your fingers almost touching around its pretty base. You stroke it once, and he bites back a moan as he stops your hand quickly. 

     “Y-”

     “You’re right,” you sigh, removing your hand. The water washes away the soap, and it twitches without your touch, painfully hard now that he had a taste of your touch. “I should be more thorough.”

     You drop to your knees, and he lets out a low growl as he shakes his head. His hand grips your hair quickly, a light sensation as the stream runs down your back. 

     “Look at you,” he huffs, “so eager to please.”

     “I’m just returning the favor,” you mumble, tilting your head as you take his cock in your hand, “puppy.”

     The first fat lick from the base to the tip has him shivering. You think back on the things the guards would talk about in the hallway, learning as you go what feels good for him. You don’t tell him how you learned it all. He might get too jealous, but he seems to love the feeling of your tongue.

     His brows lift as he bites his lip in pleasure. He leans his head against the wall as you put the tip against your lips, offering a soft kiss, gazing up at him to watch each time he loses his control and grips your hair a little tighter, rolls his eyes back slightly, his hips twitching as you slowly take him in your mouth. He’s so heavy on your tongue, but the feeling is so nice. It’s comforting, watching him breathe heavily as your warmth surrounds him. 

     “Princess,” he groans, gently caressing your cheek as he holds you there, halfway on his cock. “This look suits you,” he breathes, “on your knees, stuffed with my cock. Does it taste good, baby?” You hum, and his head falls forward with a low groan. “Make sure i-it’s clean.” He bites his lip, hardly able to speak as he lets you move again, and the soft, warm velvet of your mouth runs along his length perfectly. It’s tight, so fucking tight. He can’t take his eyes off of you as your eyes unfocus, blissed out by the feeling of his cock stuffing your perfect mouth. Your lips are puffy, so cute around him. He can hardly contain his hips as he lets you go at your teasingly slow pace. He wants to fuck your mouth hard, but he absolutely won’t. Fuck, but he wants to. 

     “Can you go faster for me, Y/n?” he mumbles, slowly guiding you down his length. You gag as the tip hits your throat, your warmth constricting around him. It’s uncomfortable, but you want to please him, want to feel him twitching in you, moaning as you pleasure him. “That’s it,” he breathes. “Good job, baby, deeper. Fuck~” He lets out a long moan, blessing your ears as you relax your throat and force your nose to his stomach. “Baby, what a good girl. Fuck… ngh… so g-ood..mm... Keep going… shit..”   

     You go faster, but his grip tightens on your hair, controlling your movement as he starts to meet your mouth halfway. He’s slowly fucking your mouth, suppressing the need to thrust deeper and deeper, pushing you along his cock with each thrust. His voice is getting louder, his thrusts sloppier. He stops.

     “P-princess,” he breathes, slowly pulling you away by your hair. You suck lightly on his tip as he leaves your lips, and he curses softly, wanting nothing more than to keep you stuffed full. He stops moving as he sees his precum spread over your lips, reaching out and dragging his thumb across them to clean it up. “You keep making a mess,” he mumbles, bringing his thumb to his lips and licking it clean, gazing at you as you grow hotter at the sight. 

     “Why did you make me stop?” you whine, placing your hands on the ground to keep them from touching him again. “You feel so good in me,” you breathe, licking your lips as you stare eagerly at his dripping cock. “And taste s-”

     “Get up,” he growls, and you’re quick to scramble to your feet. “I just want to feel good together,” he admits, pushing you against the wall and stopping the water. The room goes silent, leaving only your heavy pants to be heard. “Once I saw you,” he mumbles, “walk by my cell, all I’ve wanted to do was see you like this. I know it’s so bad of me, but I want to make you feel good. I want to feel good with you.”

     “Me too,” you whimper. “I was so jealous when you felt good without me.” He smiles wide, looking away guiltily.

     His hands gently part your legs, lifting one and bringing his hips close to yours. You feel his cock rub lightly against your folds, and you let out a shaky breath.

     “I’ll make it up to you.”

     You haven’t felt such a raw sensation before, his hardness rubbing against you. The slide is so lewd, sticky and loud, echoing throughout the bathroom. His hand holds his cock against your folds as he thrusts against you. It rubs against your clit, back and forth, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You whimper, clutching his shoulders as he thrusts fast. His grunts are more like low growls with each thrust forward. It feels amazing, your voice hardly suppressed by the hard bite you have on your lip. 

     “You’re so wet,” he groans. “Making a mess when I just cleaned you up.” You whimper, rubbing your pussy against him hard as you feel the pleasure building. Your eyes are shaking, your lips leaving soft kisses against his shoulder, unsure of what else to do to distract yourself from losing your mind in pleasure. “Such a bad girl,” he growls, and you let out a soft sob as he pushes you hard against the wall, your head falling back. He kisses your chin as your head falls limp against the wall with a soft whimper leaving your lips. His teeth graze your skin, sinking down only lightly as his grunts grow to soft moans. He trails his kisses, sloppy and wet, to your neck. His hair tickles your skin, a soft contrast to the deep bite he marks into your neck.

     “Fu-uck~!” you choke, your orgasm approaching fast. This isn’t right. No, no, it’s not enough. “Yunho, please,” you whimper as he kisses away the pain in your skin. “Please, fuck, please put it in.. ngh~”

     He shakes his head. “Don’t say that,” he pants, biting his lip as he keeps his head buried in your neck. “Be good.”

     “Please,” you sob, feeling frustrated tears build quickly. “I need you inside, Yunnie, please, fuck me~ I need it so bad.” He kisses your neck with soft growls leaving his lips with each slide against your pussy. “Please, ngh, please, puppy!” 

     “I d-don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he says softly, biting his lip as he grips your body tight to gain some control over his thoughts. “I’ll m-make love to you nice, but not r-right now. I’ll hurt you.”

     Your mind flickers to the shots he talked about, how they make him feel. Tears fall from your eyes. They’re sad, frustrated, needy. You’re so overwhelmed. You need him to stuff you full. You need him to thrust hard and deep. Fuck, he’s so big. He’d rub so nicely against your walls. You want to feel him lose control. You know he won’t hurt you. Even if he does, you don’t care. 

     “Yunho, fuck me,” you pant, trying to steady your trembling voice. “I can take it. I just need it so bad. P-please, puppy, fuck me.”

     He pulls his head away quickly, dropping your leg as he glares at you, his pupils blown, his eyes heavy and hooded. As he tilts his head you see the veins bulging through his skin, his grip on you trembling as he grits his teeth. “You want me to fuck you?” he asks, voice strained. You nod eagerly. “And you think you can take it?”

     “Yes,” you whine, “I can take it. I promise, I’ll be good. Please~”

     He grabs your arm, pulling you roughly out of the shower. You’re both dripping as he rushes to his bedroom, pushing you onto the bed. He climbs over you, glaring down at you as he spreads your legs wide, sitting between them. His cock is so fucking hard, twitching against your stomach, but he forces your eyes back on his with a rough hand on your chin.

     “Every night I imagined what it would feel like deep inside you,” he growls, his hand pressing down on your stomach lightly. “What your face would look like, how your pussy would clench around me.” He scoffs. “You think that night was the only night?” Your eyes widen a little, a rush of slick wetting your folds as you listen to his every word. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

     Fuck… You whimper, biting your lip hard at the thought. 

     “All I had was your voice, but now…” He licks his lips, looking from your twitching pussy to your flushed cheeks. He gently runs his thumb along your cheek. “You think you can take it?”

     You nod quickly, but your mind is spinning so fucking fast. How dirty. Your puppy is so dirty… Making himself feel good, imagining you every night, while your hands were tied, and all you could do was imagine him, growing needy and desperate without any way to relieve yourself. 

     “Fuck me.”

     He doesn’t move his cock, his fingers plunging deep into your core. You’re wide open, your pussy drooling for him. He groans, his lips twitching into a satisfied smile as he finally lines his cock up to your folds. Without warning, his eyes, so dark, so daring, locked with yours, he thrusts in. It only goes about halfway, but your back arches with a long, pathetic moan. 

     “That’s right,” he pants, pushing further. His hair is wavy and damp in front of his eyes, but they don't look away for a second. They’re desperate to see every little twitch of your features as you take his cock like a good fucking girl. “Is this what you want, Y/n? Can you take it?”

     You nod, feeling hot tears stream down your face as he bottoms out.

     “Hmm?” he hums, rolling his lips just slightly against your quivering hole. You sob, overwhelmed with pleasure as his pelvis grinds against your clit. 

     “Yes, yes, fuuuck, yes, Yunnie, please keep going!” you finally choke out, reaching for his neck and pulling him into a searing kiss. His hips stutter as he carefully starts to move. You suck on his tongue, drinking him as you move desperately against his lips, grinding your hips along with each hesitant thrust. “Faster,” you pant. “More, baby, come one.”

     You pull hard on his hair as his hips slam against yours just once, forcing a moan from your lips. He groans into your mouth, loving your reaction. He moves faster, harder, thrusting into your heat until it's all he can feel. Your lips stop moving, just resting against each other as your eyes roll back, your vision blurry with how harshly your body is used by him. He grabs your hips and slams them against his thrusts, harder and faster, drowning in your moans and whines. He can’t get enough. 

     “Y/n,” he pants, kissing your cheek sloppily as he rolls his hips, rubbing hard against your clit with the new, slower angle. “Fuck, princess, bite me,” he whimpers. “Bite me.”

     He presents you his neck, his moans muffled by the pillow. You’re too far gone to register his words for a while, deep in the drug that he’s feeding you with each delicious thrust. But your kisses to his neck come naturally, and his words register when you hear a pathetic whine from his lips. You graze your teeth against his skin, and his hips stutter, slowing before getting harder and faster, rough but without much rhythm. 

     You bite him hard, and he sobs into the pillow, grabbing your hips and digging his nails into your flesh. You’re loving every fucking sensation, his moans, right beside your blessed ears, his cock pistoning into you, his body draped over you, and his hands gripping your body like there’s nothing else he could ever dream of holding.

     Your orgasm is approaching fast, and you can hardly grasp your mind, just drowning in Yunho. He lifts his head, his moans growing in pitch and volume.

     “I’m so close,” he sobs, and you focus your eyes just enough to see his trembling lips, his flushed cheeks, and his eyes, streaming tears as he thrusts desperately. 

     It makes you cum instantly, your back arching as your walls clench around him hard, creaming on his cock without warning. Your eyes roll back hard, your vision turning white as he whimpers and sobs, releasing thick ropes of his cum deep inside. He rides out both of your highs, your moans and gasps harmonizing in the silent room. You force your eyes to stay open to watch his features blank out in complete bliss, cumming long and hard surrounded by your perfect, soaked pussy. His head falls forward as soon as he stops cumming, his cock twitching sensitively, keeping you stuffed full with his cum. 

     You hold his head to your neck as satisfied tears drip onto the pillow beneath you. His hair is almost dry by now, fluffy against your trembling fingers. He stays there for a long time, sniffling into your neck as you gently stroke his hair, something you’d wanted to do since seeing how pretty and fluffy it was in that cell. 

     He’s holding you so tight, his arms wrapped around you completely, his member still buried inside. He’s sobbing, and you close your eyes tight, holding him just as close, not saying a word until he can cry properly, like he deserves. 

     “You’re so warm,” he cries, and you smile against his head, a tear slipping down your own cheek. “How could they torture you for so long, and you’re still so warm? How could they do that to you?” 

     “You kept me warm,” you whisper, afraid your voice would break if it’s any louder. “You saved me in more ways than you think.”

     He holds you closer, close enough to feel his heart beat, to have to affect your own, have them sink and calm and soothe together. He sighs against your neck, his breath shaky but tears slowing.

     “I’ll keep you warm forever.” 

       “Seonghwa-Hyung will bring us to the police in the morning,” Yunho says as he checks his phone. You’re wearing his clothes, big and comfy, as you lounge on his blue, squishy bed. It feels just like him, fluffy and perfect for the shape of you. You could melt into it and sleep forever. You’ve never felt something so soft. Except for him, of course. 

     You look over to make him come snuggle with you, but he isn’t where your eyes left him. You frown. “Yunho?” He doesn’t answer. Maybe he went to the bathroom? Or maybe he went to talk with someone? You pout, laying back in bed. But something feels wrong. You sit up. “Yunho?” you call out again. Still no answer. You get up quickly and go to the door. Peaking out into the hallway, it’s dark and silent. No one’s there. This is freaky. Where could he have gone? You turn around, closing your eyes for a long moment. It’s okay. Maybe he went to get some water. 

     “Yunho?” you gasp, your eyes shooting open as you lunge forward. Your legs are wrapped tightly in a thick blanket, the room around you dark, quiet, cold, without him. He’s gone. He’s… The scent here is familiar. Something distant which you haven’t smelled in a long, long time. 

     The door creaks open, and a slither of light shines against the walls. “Y/n, baby, are you alright?” Mom. Her face is masked with gentle concern, but you can’t answer, staring in confusion, in silence. “Did you have a bad dream?” she asks, and you tilt your head. A bad dream?

     “A dream…?” You gasp. What’s with your voice? You look around again. The walls are covered in posters, pink and purple and black and… colors surround you. The cell, so grey… the… what… the dream… What was it about? “I don’t remember,” you whisper. 

     “It’s okay, baby,” she coos, stepping into the room. Her dent on the bed makes you lean toward her, your head falling to her shoulder, that scent of her perfume, so familiar. “It was just a dream, whatever it was.” 

     You sigh, letting your body melt into her. Yeah, it was all just a dream. It just feels like you haven’t been in her arms forever. 

       For ten years, your life seems so… unfamiliar, as if every moment you spend growing… isn’t truly happening. Every spoken word echoes, every touch vibrates softly as if it isn’t supposed to happen, and you grow used to it, but you never shake that feeling that something is utterly wrong… something is missing. Or someone. 

     Because you dream almost every night the same dream, and you’ve never told anyone, but somehow, this dream feels more real than life ever does. It started that night when you were ten. And it never went away. You’re always brought back to the darkness. You don’t understand it. You can’t see, you can’t speak, but you’re anything but lonely. You have a friend. 

     He sings to you. Through this wall in the darkness. Who is he? Why is he here? Is he stuck in this dream, just like you? But you can never ask him. 

       “I’m telling you, it’s all real,” you whine, tugging on your friend’s sleeve as she types away at her computer. 

     “You’re crazy, Y/n,” she giggles. “Even if you’ve had the same dream for fifteen years, there’s no way it’s real. You're crazy.”

     You roll your eyes. “I’m crazy? You’re fighting teenagers for a ticket, thinking an idol is gonna fall in love with you,” you laugh, but she eyes you with puckered lips, clearly offended. 

     “I could pull them,” she huffs. 

     “Uh huh.”

     “Anyway, you’re coming with me,” she says, zoning back in on the computer.

     You quirk a brow. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

     “Please,” she scoffs. “I’m paying for your ticket. In return, you have to drive me there.”

     “Whaaaat?” you groan, letting your head fall dramatically to her bed, melting into it with a deep frown. “How far away is it? Can’t you just drive yourself?”

     “It’s, like, two hours away.”

     “Whaaaat…”

     “Stop complaining,” she grumbles. “You’ll get a free- fuck, shhhh, it’s starting. Be silent.”

     You furrow your brows, burying your head into her pillow with a long, deep sigh. Whatever. It’s not like you have anything better to do. 

         You’ve heard of ATEEZ, but you’ve never actually ventured into their music. Standing outside the venue with a squirming, dolled-up bestie, you’re not really looking forward to it. She scored barricade seats, right up on these idols. It's going to be so embarrassing. You should have just agreed to drive her without getting a ticket. But… you’ll make the most of it and have fun with her.

     To say you get a weird feeling when you walk inside, though, is an understatement. You get immediate chills, pausing in your tracks as you look around. Something isn’t right. Or it is. Whatever it is, it’s weird, and you want to get out of there. The show hasn’t even started. 

     Your seats truly are right up at the stage. You’d be able to see every detail of the performance from here… every drop of sweat, every twitch of a lip, every step in the dance. 

     “I’ll be back. Bathroom,” you whisper, getting up from your seat. 

     “Hurry…” she whines. “Soundcheck starts soon. I have to introduce you to my man.” You roll your eyes before walking slowly toward the ladies room. You’ll be back in time. 

     But the uneasy feeling from earlier is growing stronger, and it’s making you nauseous. You thought it would be a quick trip to the ladies’ room, but you’re bent in two, sitting on the toilet seat, fully clothed, sweating and panting as you try to catch your breath. What the fuck is going on? Your mind is spinning around and around, only stopping when it gives you a moment’s witness of that familiar darkness. You hear the crowd erupt. The group must be on stage. They must be singing, greeting the crowd. You hear them, but you can’t hear anything as your ears tune in on his voice in that darkness, his hums which were your only company as you dreamed each night. Why are you suddenly hearing him? He’s just from your fucking dream. You grab your ears, groaning as you try to focus on the crowd, on the singing. 

     There’s a knock on your stall door, and you open it hesitantly. Knowing by the little black Mary Janes that it’s your girl.

     “Y/n,” she gasps, “Are you okay?” She kneels in front of you, gently stroking your cheek, and you can finally calm down, taking slow breaths. You realize the crowd is quiet, and the singing is over. 

     “Sorry,” you sigh, “I missed soundcheck. Had a huge-”

     She playfully slaps your cheek, standing up with a groan. “Gross,” she giggles.

     The uneasy feeling is gone for the next few hours as you relax and eat with her until the show starts. All is well, all is good. And you have a lot of fun in the end. 

     The lights dim, and the music starts, and you quickly regain that weird feeling. The members are wearing cloaks. You can’t see their faces, only watch as the cloth flows with their movement. It’s freaky. It’s cool. Even as they perform a few songs, you don’t see their features clearly until they begin their little solo dances. That’s when you really feel weird. Your heart is racing in anticipation. For what? Maybe you’re so invested into the show, but when three members dance around, collapsing at different sides of the stage, you’re met with big, wide, horrified eyes, and you realize exactly why.

     Your knees grow weak, your pupils trembling. He’s staring right at you; he knows too. Everything returns to you. Every moment, every word, every touch. 

     You’re both frozen there, just a few feet away. His hand trembles as he reaches out… for you. He reaches out, maybe he can grasp you. Maybe he can touch you. Maybe he can hold you close because why were you suddenly taken from him? Why were you suddenly sent back, separated? 

     His arms are grabbed, and he’s pulled away, aggressively taken away from you. You shout his name, but it’s drowned by the crowd, by the music. 

     A tear slips down your cheek. How could you forget everything? How could you… You think back on the last fifteen years, how you awoke that morning, just a child again, oblivious, memory wiped, living knowing something wasn’t right, something was missing. And there it is. Yunho.

     You sit down, bringing your head to your lap as tears fall from your eyes. Never have you betrayed yourself so horribly, betrayed him so unfairly. How could you leave him like that when you had promised him you would always return, that you would never leave him?

     You don’t watch the rest of the show. You can’t lift your eyes from your lap. You can’t. 

     You remember everything.  

           “Y/n, it’s really okay if you’re not up to it,” she insists, rubbing your arms gently as you eye the crowd moving toward the last event. “You’re not feeling well.”

     “No,” you mumble. “I need to go.”

    She huffs a laugh. “Were you so entranced by their performance? Did they woo you?” She snickers as if she told a joke, but you don’t get it. Rolling her eyes, she urges you forward. “Let’s go get a good spot then.”

     You’ve calmed down by now. You realize it wasn’t a dream at all. It was all real, and, by the look on his face, without a doubt, he remembers too. You need to see him again. Even if… now he wants nothing to do with you, you need to see him again. 

     You’re close to the front but hidden by other fans for the most part. They don’t come out for a while, and you’re a little nervous. You’re a lot nervous, playing with the fabric on your girl’s top. She doesn’t mind, too deep in her thoughts, probably delusional, romantic. 

     And then they come out. And your eyes search frantically for them, but there’s a lot of people blocking your view. It’s frustrating, but you have to be patient. The members go around and stop by your section, smiling, taking pictures, signing, talking. It’s cute, how they interact with their fans.

     You recognize two of them. Seonghwa looks just like he did back then, or, maybe this is around the same time as back then. Wooyoung is snappy and loud, like each person he talks to is another close friend. You recognize them, know them. It’s weird… to see more of that dream appear in front of you. 

     And him. Yunho appears, looking anxiously around as he signs and talks and smiles. He’s not paying attention to any of it, but you can tell he is. You smile, finally able to see him through the small crowd. He’s just like you remember. As his eyes find yours again, they give you that look, like you’re the only thing they’ve ever been looking for, just like in his cell, in the auditorium, and on the stage. 

     He nearly stumbles as he comes closer, eyes never leaving yours. He doesn’t look scared like he did on the stage, and neither do you. There’s a deep understanding in your gazes now. 

     Your friend’s squealing beside you, shaking your arm as he stops just a few feet away. He looks around, head low. He knows there are cameras lining the crowd. All eyes are on him. He can’t say anything, and neither can you. You want to reach out, want to touch him, see if he’s real.

     ��Tiny~” He smiles wide, eyes squinting cutely, but you can see a soft layer of tears hiding there. “Do you want a selfie?” He points to your phone, held tightly in your hand. You hesitantly nod, and he motions you closer. The crowd parts a bit, and you can walk forward. He takes your phone, his fingers grazing yours, and you could melt at how warm he is, how soft he is. You can smell him as he motions you closer and closer. His cheek bumps gently against yours as he holds the camera up. “Smile, Y/n,” he whispers, and your cheeks tint a deep pink as you see yourself in the camera, listen to his words, hear your name, and feel him around you. His hand curls at your opposite cheek, like a heart, and your face completes it. 

     He takes at least four pictures, all the same, but he stays there for so long, he doesn’t want to leave. As he pulls away, so slowly, and he hands you your phone, you feel a piece of paper slip into your palm. His eyes stay gazing into yours for only a moment longer before the manager beside him urges him to move on, and he’s pulled away.

     You don’t look down at the paper. You don’t make it known. Not even to your friend, who’s tugging on your sleeve and fangirling over the whole thing, practically begging to see the photos. You carefully put the paper in your pocket with a hidden, shy smile.

       “Stay. I arranged a driver for your friend.” How do you explain something like that to her? 

     But before you can even go to tell her, she’s nowhere to be seen. Your phone vibrates and lights up with a message from her. 

     “I’m gonna stay in town for the night. I want to try out the cat cafe!!! You can head back alone.”

     You stare at the message for a long moment. How convenient. 

     You’re interrupted by a clearing of someone’s throat. Startled, you lock eyes with one of the managers and nearly squeak an apology. This is so embarrassing. How do you explain that Yunho is…

     “Come with me,” he says quietly, and you eye him skeptically. “Yunho is backstage.”

     He starts to walk, and your shoulders lose some tension without his glare. It’s replaced with a growing excitement. You bite your lip as you’re guided to the back. It’s busy, and you feel so strange, like you’re not supposed to be here, but you know soon, you can finally see him again. For real, alone, where you can finally talk, and touch, and see, and everything constantly stripped from you. 

     You sigh as he comes into your sight. The door closes behind you, the room silent except for his quick footsteps. Your back hits the door as he pushes his body against you, his lips on yours instantly. You whimper, feeling his fingers run through your hair, stroking you with pure love and relief. His lips are soft but urgent as they move against yours, he breathes your name between fast kisses, and your eyes roll shut, falling deep into the feeling of him. 

     “What happened?” he pants against your lips, gazing into your eyes, forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. “Where did you go?” His voice breaks, and it squeezes at your heart as your lips tremble into a frown. “Why does no one remember?” he asks, gently caressing your cheek as he holds you just a little closer. “Why were you gone?”

     But he kisses you again, lifting your chin to keep your lips on his. He’s panting against you, his hands sliding down your neck as he feels your delicate body, your soft skin, your light shivers. They rest on your waist, gentle yet big against you, his fingers sliding just slightly under your top. 

     “Please,” he mumbles. “Don’t leave me again.” His jaw clenches as he stares into your eyes, his words growing darker as he becomes used to you back in his arms. “Come home with me.” 

       Yunho’s room is warmer than you remember. Or maybe your desperate breaths as he pins you against the wall are filling the room with a desperate heat quickly. You can tell he’s exhausted from the concert mentally and physically, but he needs to be close to you right now. 

     You walk him to the bed and lay him down. He doesn’t object much, trusting you with himself completely. You climb onto his lap and lean against his chest. He sighs with the warm weight of you, letting you stay there for a long moment. 

     “I dreamed about you,” you whisper, working on the strings of his pants lazily. “Every night.”

     “Me too,” he sighs. “I dreamed about the cell, but I thought I was going crazy.” 

     You giggle. “Me too.” 

     You pull down his sweatpants, leaving him in his briefs. Then, you strip off your own pants. You work on his shirt next. He lets you do as you please, nodding off but keeping his eyes wide just to keep you in his sight.

     “Do you remember everything?” you ask, glancing away as you’re met with his bare chest. You slip off your own shirt, and he looks away too, his ears growing red, just like you remember.

     “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Except… I don’t remember what happened after I found you in the tank… until we were outside and safe,” he says. 

     Your eyes grow wide a little. “Really?” you mumble, and he nods. 

     “How did we get out?” he asks, and you avoid his curious gaze.

     “You broke me out… and we ran away,” you say, which is mostly the truth. He accepts it, smiling as he thinks back at the look on your face as you finally saw the sky for the first time in years.

     You plop down beside him, and he curls into you as you pull the covers over you both. 

     “How do we know something like that won’t happen again?” he asks, bringing you close to his chest.

     You’re silent for a moment. “Even if it does, we’ll find each other no matter what. Even when I couldn’t remember… I knew you were missing. I can’t live without you,” you say, gazing at him as he smiles. 

     “Even so, let’s promise,” he whispers, digging out his hand from the covers to hold out his pinky. “Promise that we’ll never disappear again.”

     You grin, latching your pinky with his, giggling together as you snuggle close and fall asleep.

       For years, you stay by each other’s side. You move into an apartment and change jobs to live in Seoul. You never speak to your mother again. You love your life by his side, perfect and sweet, even if his fans are a bit crazy about your relationship. You don’t mind. Everything is perfect.

     Best of all, you keep your promise to each other… for six years. 

     You don’t feel uneasy… nor warned… nor any different that night as you go to sleep in his arms. 

     And suddenly you can’t move. You can’t speak. You can’t hear.

     Your vision is foggy, your limbs bound in place, floating in a thick fluid. The tank. 

     Oh, fuck, the tank.

     The glass is clear, built around you. It was never shattered. You were never saved. 

     The room is silent. The audience… they’re bones. Bones, melting into the seats. They’re gone, dead. For years, they've been dead. For decades, maybe, and you’ve been here. It was all a lie. You’ve been here. You…

     You hear a faint cry. It’s distant, a truly saddening cry… of a child. 

     Your heart sinks. It slows amidst the sudden chaos of your mind. How long have you been here in this tank? How many… children… have you had? That is… the true use of the tank. 

     Your eyes can hardly move, and it hurts so bad, but you need to look toward the sobs. There’s more. More cries, more children. 

     But you don’t see them when your eyes finally move to your left. Instead you see another tank. Floating, much like you, is Yunho. Your eyes meet, and your heart stops. 

     You were never free. You were never free. You were never free. 

     You were here the whole time, with him, locked in this tank, forced to reproduce. You were never free. And now even your dreams are gone. You have to stay and watch as you live… like this… for how long? How long will it be until you die? Because you just want to die right now. Before you forget everything… You want to die when you can see his eyes and remember it all. 

     You want to die. You want to fucking die. 

     What’s the point? You can’t even kill yourself. You want to die. What’s the fucking point?! What’s the point?! What’s the point?! Die! Why can’t you just die! They can’t give you something and take it away again! And again! They’re fucking with you! They can’t take him away from you again! You'd rather just die! Die! Qhy can’t you just kill yourself?! No fucking way you’re going to live if you can’t have him! You’ll just fucking die!

     Tears are streaming from your eyes… Warm arms are wrapped around you as you sob. Your fists clench his shirt, nails digging into his skin. You feel his hitching breath against your nose, his tears wetting your lashes and mixing with your own. 

     “No,” he sobs, curling into you as he opens his eyes. “No, it’s okay.” His breath is trembling, unsure, but you nod anyway. Fuck, you were so scared. You were so scared. “It’s not real,” he whispers, his lips quivering as his hands grip your body so tight.

     “It’s not real,” you repeat, and he nods quickly. “W-we promised we wouldn’t disappear again,” you whisper, and he nods again. “S-so it can’t be real. It’s okay.”

     Your ears are ringing, heart pounding, but it’s all soothing as you hold him close. If you hold him close enough this time, maybe he won’t disappear. You whisper again and again to each other nonsense, comforting nonsense, just to stay awake as tears softly dampen the pillow beneath your heads. Just to survive the night, you won’t fall asleep, won’t let his eyes leave yours. 

     This is real. 

     You won’t disappear because this is real.

     It’s real.

a/n ~ thank you so much for reading ♡

mwaᯓᡣ𐭩

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[m00nl1ghts1vt]

♡‧₊˚ Neighbor!Matt x Brat!Reader - Dibs

Sprawled out across your mattress, a weighted sleep mask covers your eyes as your brain throbbed so hard in your skull it felt like it could burst open at any moment. Working from home the last couple months was great; despite the raging migraines you were cursed with every other day from having your eyes fixated on your laptop screen for so long. The obnoxiously noisy neighbors above you didn’t make matters any better for you. Every shout and stomp sounding thru your ceiling made your head ache more than it already was.

Only residing in your apartment for roughly three months, you assumed your upstairs neighbors had been there much longer than you. You weren't the one to go out of your way to complain about much unless it was a major problem to you, and your upstairs neighbors were definitely becoming a constant problem in your day-to-day routine. It seemed like there were only a few hours in the day they weren't being loud as fuck. You'd find yourself constantly muting work calls and zoom meetings because it sounded like somebody was bound to come crashing down from the floor above at any moment. Wendy didn't help much either, she was a needy little cat with her consistent meowing and batting of her play mice often left you distracted. At least it was a pleasant distraction, unlike your upstairs neighbors who got on your last nerve without even knowing who they were.

You were new to the city, and you definitely didn't want to get on anyone's bad side. Your mouth was a lethal weapon in many ways. The last thing you needed was someone calling the property manager because you called them a – "stupid jobless cunt who can't shut the fuck up if their life depended on it" – that's how you described them to your best friend earlier in a text anyway.

Pushing your negative thoughts to the back of your mind, you try to ignore the continuous thumping and screaming from the floor up above. There's no way they didn't know they were this loud. Knowing your luck, it was probably a little old couple that was hard of hearing or visually impaired. As much as they scream, you found that really hard to believe. One final thump makes up your mind, a loud groan erupts from your lungs, and you toss back your goose down comforter, storming out of your bedroom and down the hall. Your brain fogged by rage; you completely forget about your shoes at your front door. 

Making your way up the stairwell, you let your bare feet echo off the ground with each stomp. How inconsiderate of someone to be up at this time of night, blasting loud ass music and screaming so loud it shook your bedroom walls. You open the hallway door, standing your ground in front of the noisy culprits' apartment door. The adrenaline pumps through veins as you let your fist fly, pounding on the door until you feel the heat rise to your palm. Pissed was an understatement. You were livid. 

You chew on your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest as a mixture of rage and nervousness boils down in your gut. You hoped and prayed it wasn’t a little old lady on the other side of this door. You weren’t sure if the universe was working in your favor or not because when the door swings open – revealing a handsome, blue eyed, dark haired fucking sex god – you felt your heart drop to your stomach. Your mouth gapes open slightly, his face crunching in slight confusion and anger. No words are said as the stranger in front of you shifts on his feet, “can I uhm — can I help you?” His eyes make a track over your face and down your body, awkwardly shifting to the ceiling above. The realization quickly washes over you, your pajamas exposing more skin than you’d like in that particular moment. A bit uncomfortable, you hug your arms tighter to your chest, giving yourself more coverage as you let out a huff, “can you quiet the fuck down? Some people actually want to sleep in this building,” you breathe out, a bit winded from the flight of stairs, your tone a little bitchier than you intended – not that you cared at all.

His eyebrows knit together as he looks down at you, completely blown away at the words coming out of your mouth, “what?” his lip curling upward as he speaks. 

“I’ve lived under for the last three months and all you do is scream, stomp, and blast your music,” you spit out, shifting your weight to your opposite hip, your voice trembling from the adrenaline pounding at your chest. The hard expression still etched across his face, you couldn’t tell if he was listening intently or getting ready to chew your ass out as soon as you stopped speaking, and you weren’t going to give him the opportunity to do so, “you should be more considerate of your neighbors or maybe – I don’t know, don’t live in an apartment,” you seethe, spinning on your heels and heading toward the exit.

His broad voice beats like a hammer thru the hallway, “next time try being nicer. Being a bitch gets you nowhere in life, y’know.” You stop dead in your tracks, your grip on the door handle tightens at his words, the harsh sound of his apartment door slamming makes your head throb. The audacity of a fucking man. 

Little did you know, on the inside of your neighbor's apartment his brother asked who was at the door, to which he quickly replied, “just some brat from downstairs,” shaking his head with a chuckle. This clearly sparked his brother's curiosity, “she cute?”

Matt clears his throat, pressing his back against the door and tangling a hand in his hair out of frustration, "really fucking cute." He watches his brother's face light you, "really you thin – ," he starts but Matt cuts him off almost instantly.

“Dibs,” Matt calls out in a rush, shutting down any thoughts his brother had running thru that thick skull of his, plastering a serious smirk on his face so he'd be taken seriously. No way he was letting a girl like you fall victim to his brother's bullshit – maybe his own bullshit – but definitely not his brothers.

Wc - 1072

♡‧₊˚ Just giving you guys a look on how neighbor!Matt and brat!Reader met each other 🥹 Loving these two sm, I have like six pages (and counting) in my google docs all dedicated to them lmaoo. So happy everyone loved the first blurb <3 also wanted to say thank you to everyone for interacting and sharing my work. It means the world to me, you guys blessed me with an early birthday present - 500 follower 🥲🫶🏻

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© M00NL1GHTS1VT - please do noy copy my work

[1980shorrorfilm]

eyes without a face

please click! happy 2025 :]!! may this year bring u so much joy i love you

pairing…ellie williams x fem!reader x abby anderson

in which…your relationship with abby doesn’t stop ellie from liking you.

before you read…angst. modern au. pathetic losertron 5000 ellie :[ this is just me really wanting to write #that scene from tpobaw which is a warning within itself. truth or dare trope. established messy relationship with abby. dina gets mistreated by ellie </3 did i mention ellie is a loser

it’s not hard to make ellie uncomfortable.

throw her in a crowded party or put her in a room where you’re clinging to abby, and it’s done. easy. like now. her eyes are betraying her, not daring to blink or look away, while abby’s whispering shit in your ear that has you giggling sweetly.

she can’t hear you, the music and chatter are way too loud, but she already knows what the noise sounds like. it’s when she makes a stupid geeky pun as you’re studying in her dorm, that the light laughter turns her face beet red— another thing that’s not hard to earn from ellie.

not from you, at least.

when your fingertips trace her fern tattoo, leaf to leaf, ellie holding her breath and arm in place. showing up to hang out in one of her hoodies you have assumed are yours by now, she’ll let you believe it, because she doesn’t want to change it.

telling her how smart she is. how funny she is. and some vulnerable, teary-eyed, post-argument with your girlfriend nights, how you wish abby were more like her.

compassionate...understanding...kind. things your girlfriend lacks, you had told her. it was one of the more severe arguments and surely said out of resentment, but ellie secretly and happily took it as a win.

if she was blunt, free from nerves that taunt her regularly, ellie would agree. maybe free you from her. become a villain to abby and her friends, the loved group that already despises ellie and her too close proximity to you, and her entire ‘no good’ existence.

but she would be your hero. that’s how she would like to think of herself— but ellie is very self-aware and knows that’s not a reality in any universe. her confidence is nonexistent, and reaching out to you would be reaching for the stars. two things she will only dream of.

you’re with her, that ellie cannot change that. she shouldn’t even be so fucking invested in you or your relationship.

she almost has her own, after all. sort of. it’s complicated, her and dina never put a label on what they were. she couldn’t use the term ‘distraction’ without seeming like the biggest jackass in history, but that is what she is.

searching for the qualities that you beautifully possess, in an entirely different person, and being disappointed she cannot find them. ellie feels bad about it, but somewhere in between those guilty thoughts, she wonders if it’s the same for you.

if you looked at abby and tried to find her in there somewhere, if the same sad realization that they were nothing alike, and you're with the wrong person, hits you as it does her.

shamefully, the idea makes ellie happy.

watching abby lead you away, out of her eyesight, did not make her happy.

“got us drinks,” dina chirps, plopping down onto the couch beside ellie, the auburn-haired girl honestly not noticing dina had ever left in the first place. she hasn't been paying attention to much besides you.

“thanks,” ellie makes sure to tell her, taking the red solo cup, sniffing it, and scrunching her face. the fuck is in that punch? she doesn’t know, but the brunette doesn’t seem to mind, sipping while nodding her head to the beat of the music playing throughout the house.

ellie, trying to be normal, shows a smile and brings the cup to her lips, gulping down the harsh alcohol all at once. she hates it, and she’s surprised she doesn’t throw it up immediately.

“thirsty?” dina jokes, earning an awkward chuckle from ellie, who is still eyeing the crowd before her, waiting for your reappearance.

maybe it will be without her, and she can finally talk to you alone, free from the prying and judgmental eyes of your damn girlfriend. she could barely even greet you when she arrived, the blonde's arm wrapped around your shoulder, subtly pulling you away after ellie got a ‘hi,’ in. asshole.

she will never know what you see in her. why you complain about her one night and then fuck her the next. she understands you with everything, besides your relations with her— unless she is your distraction. she’s hot and everyone with working eyes can tell. you two look great together, but you don’t work great together. not in ellie’s opinion, anyway.

ellie starts to drift now, the muffled noise of whatever story dina was telling and the noisy crowd blending, a headache of a symphony. or perhaps it’s the vile drink already hurting her head. or both and she should just ask dina if they could leave this stupid fucking party.

then she sees you. alone, visibly upset, locking eyes with her for a split second, but that’s all she needs. you don’t stay still, you’re walking away once more, but ellie thinks of it as an invitation. you liked to be with her when you were sad, even if ellie sucked at processing emotions, or giving any sort of advice regarding them.

you noticed this when she kept her mouth shut after ranting about something wrong abby had done, and poor ellie just didn’t know what to say. she never seemed to. you didn’t take issue with it, because the most important thing was, that she listened to you. she let you sob and held you in her always welcoming arms. it was enough for you, and why you’ll always appreciate ellie’s friendship.

you find yourself in the snowy backyard, colorful lights thrown messily on a large tree that young adults stand beneath, smoking a joint. you’d join them if you had the energy to be around people, but your previously high spirits had now gone. it was something little-- but the little nitpicky things somehow always led to a dramatic feud with your girlfriend.

you let out a deep sigh, taking a few steps away from the door and leaning on the house, everything a bit more quiet. your thoughts aren’t, though, not until you see her from your perpetual vision, making her way toward you. her gaze is heavy, examining you and keeping a small distance as she also leans against the brick exterior.

“something happen?” ellie asks, knowing both the answer and the cause.

“what do you think?”

“right…” ellie nods, face flushing red at your bitter sarcasm, which you regret immediately. all she’s trying to do is help. ellie doesn’t take it to heart, though, recovering quickly with a joke. half joke. “want me to beat her up?”

it earns a light chuckle from you, ellie smiling to herself as result.

“no…no…she just…never mind.”

she chews her lip, keeping her focus on her scribbled converse, wishing you would elaborate. not because she specifically wants to hear about what happened, but so you would. you would say the words aloud, rehashing it, rethinking where your relationship stands with her. that’s what ellie wants most.

“i understand,” ellie says, a safe response. much safer than where she’s about to lead this conversation.

“where is she?”

“hm? i don’t know?” you ask back, confused about abby’s whereabouts being relevant to right now. you don’t even care, you don’t want to see her. you turn to ellie, “why?”

she opens her mouth, then shuts it, and opens it again.

“i mean…if my girlfriend and i fought at some stupid party…i wouldn’t leave her alone…” ellie speaks quietly, nervously, fiddling with her fingers, “especially you…”

you don’t get the last part. not how ellie wants you to, green eyes parting from her shoes and to your face, waiting for a reaction— for the realization that you’re standing out in the cold with her, not your girlfriend, who is seemingly pretending nothing happened while mingling with her group of ghouls.

but after letting her comment linger, you laugh slightly. “isn’t your girlfriend alone in there right now?”

“she’s not my—” ellie corrects you too damn fast, gulping, “we’re just friends.”

just friends. dina would probably wear that desolated frown if she heard ellie say that, the brunette was more interested in ellie than ellie to her, it makes sense ellie could never really help you with your relationship.

she was struggling with hers, or whatever she had going on with dina. you just hope she’s happy, and being taken care of, and feeling loved. you wouldn’t know, she doesn’t talk to you about any of that. like it’s too personal, but nothing was ever too personal between you and ellie. you hadn’t thought so.

“well, your friend is probably wondering where you are…you should go back in.”

“i want to be with you.”

again, she speaks too fast. you’re looking at her with unreadable eyes, and it makes her feel weird.

“i-i want to make sure you’re okay,” ellie adds, your lips curling into a soft smile that turns her pupils heart-shaped. always so selfless, putting you before her or anyone else.

you're not surrounded with many people like that, like ellie, making you feel like a priority instead of a burden. wanting to be with you, instead of feeling like she needs to simply because you're not okay. she's the sweetest girl you know.

“you’re my favorite friend, you know that?” ouch.

ouch ouch ouch. yeah, that’s what she is, but when you say it it sounds wrong. as if it’s diminishing what she truly is to you, which is so much more than that cursed f word. and still, she smiles, only half fake. at least she’s your favorite something, she thinks.

“dina is a lucky girl.”

the words take ellie back for a moment, mouth parting slightly despite not having a thing to say. it’s almost teasing her, surely not intentionally, but ellie would forget about dina— or any single person if you had wanted her to. if you wanted her. do you?

there’s a comfortable beat of silence between you two, the snow now beginning to fall lightly. it doesn’t bother you, but you do shiver, and ellie takes notice. she’s already peeling her brown trucker jacket off before you could protest, knowing if abby had seen it, it would start another fight.

abby thinks you’re closer than you should be, and if you truly believed it was solely a concern because of your relationship, you’d be a respectful partner and listen to her complaints. but it’s not.

it’s personal, a vendetta against ellie and everything that she was that you admired. a loser with hardly any friends, a nerd that doesn’t even belong to this party tonight, a freak that’s obsessed with you...abby wasn’t kind to her.

you defend her, but usually, it makes it worse. you couldn’t fix that— them. especially because it’s mutual, though ellie never flat-out said anything cruel about abby. she just never said anything nice either.

“thank you,” you tell ellie as her jacket engulfs you with warmth, and the spicy scent of sandalwood that you only associate with her. it makes you feel like you’re being hugged tightly by her.

it’s the perfect moment. the party is dying down, and the muffled chatter is even quieter. everything is hushed currently, the blanket of snow coating the ground making sure of it. it’s so peaceful— and intimate. maybe even romantic, ellie mesmerized by how beautiful you appear next to her.

she was always amazed by winter images, how the pale snow has a magical contrast to whatever object is in focus. and right now you look like an angel, one she'll be sure to draw in her journal when she gets the chance. immortalizing a nice memory while also impressing you. a win-win.

and the moment is interrupted. “there you are!”

both of your heads turn to dina, an enthusiastic smile on her face as she approaches you both. she notices ellie’s jacket on you, but unlike abby, dina doesn’t care. she had started messing with ellie well aware of her close relationship with you, actually finding it adorable how much ellie cared for you. dina thinks she’s a great friend; that’s it.

“here i am,” ellie responds, showing a tight-lipped smile. a cup is given to her from dina, the brunette then looking to you. “do you want mine?” she motions to the drink in her hands, “i would’ve brought another but—”

“oh— no, designated driver,” you inform her, dina letting out a quiet ‘oh,’ in return.

“okay, well,” dina redirects the topic, eyes drifting to ellie, “they are playing truth or dare and i want you to play with me.”

“i don’t—” “c’monnn.”

dina places her hand on the sleeve of ellie’s flannel, a gentle grip on her forearm as she attempts to pull her away. from you. ellie really doesn’t want to leave, especially to play a stupid fucking no-good game with people she barely knew, but her feet are already moving with dina.

“have fun,” you tease ellie, catching the rolling of her eyes.

then you’re lonely, again, and you despise it.

you accept the defeat of who will apologize first, pushing yourself off the wall and going inside the house. the music is turned off, a few people talking from the living room, and you scan the area hoping to see her.

you don’t— it’s her friends, a few faces you’re not too familiar with, plus ellie and dina. your eyes meet with ellie’s first, sitting on the wooden floor crisscrossed like a child. then her eyes drift behind you.

“hey.”

abby’s voice nearly makes you jump, hip brushing against yours as she stands next to you. she takes in the same sight, people giggling in a circle on the ground, while ellie williams is staring at her lap, appearing so out of place. abby snorts quietly to herself— you pay no mind to it.

“hey,” you copy, shifting out of the doorway and slipping into the kitchen, not wanting this conversation to be held in front of everyone, and ellie. she follows, somehow only now noticing the jacket that doesn’t belong to you clinging to your body. she forces herself to drop it for the time being.

“i didn’t mean to cause a fight. was stupid,” she apologizes without apologizing, folding her arms, bomber jacket tightening around her biceps. she’s right, it was stupid, so stupid you don’t even remember the exact reasoning, as it was so insignificant— a reason to just let it go.

“it’s fine, baby,” you reassure both her and subconsciously yourself, closing the gap between you two. her head is lowered, still feeling unsure about it, not looking you in the eye.

your soft hand cradled her jaw, tilting it upward, finally meeting those stormy irises of hers. they seem so distant, like you cannot look through her and understand anything she is feeling— or thinking. you can’t help but wonder if it’s due to the slowly fleeting tension, or something more. something too much to unpack in a house party.

your lip twitches, “we’re okay.”

abby accepts that, as do you.

the room over is suddenly and loudly in an uproar, abby and you sharing an exchanged look, knowing it was probably something very stupid— and probably abby’s friends. your friends.

“they’re having fun,” abby points on the obvious, a switch in her demeanor that you recognize. she’s tipsy and hungry for you.

you sigh her name when her hands find your sides, dipping her head into your neck to kiss the area. she's taking advantage of the empty kitchen, subtly walking you into the nearest counter, still devoted to the soft flesh of your throat.

you give in, shutting your eyes in bliss for a split moment, before the room over is once again in a loud fit of laughter. it’s too distracting for a make out session.

“let's just—” you gently push her away, ignoring the groan that came with it, “—join them.”

“wha—”

you pull her with you to the other room, dragging her to where ellie sits, and inserting yourselves in the game of truth or dare.

you, of course, next to her, knees nearly brushing, while abby is on the other side of you, a gap between you. the women meet eyes briefly, but leave it at that.

ellie is agitated— she feels hot, not in a good way. maybe it’s the mysterious alcohol, or maybe it’s the fact abby is by your side again. a sight she already dreads, but now, after you made it abundantly clear she had upset you, and you just move on from it. it was easy, and so hard for ellie to witness again and again and again.

dina puts her hand on her thigh, squeezing as she chuckles, bringing ellie back from her dire mind. she tries to mirror everyone else in the room, a bleak smile that doesn't make it obvious she's not enjoying her time here.

this is boring. she doesn't care about someone being dared to suck the toe of another or having to reveal some dumb secret from a truth. she cares about you— yet looking in your direction only bothers her; the girl next to you bothers her.

ellie hates this.

“earth to ellie,” her head snaps to the direction of the voice, recognizing it as one of your better friends made through abby, nora. “truth or dare?”

“i— uh,” she wants to say truth, but she means to say truth, but it doesn’t leave her lips. “d-dare.”

you’re surprised. she's surprised. ellie is often shy in settings like these, especially around your friends where she feels the need to watch everything she says and does. luckily, she's cheered on, everyone expecting her to play it safe, or in meaner terms, be a pussy.

you’re also glad ellie’s fate is in the hands of someone you trust, someone who wasn’t harsh on ellie or your friendship with her. it’s an easy dare, something that doesn’t embarrass her at all, and make her the laughing stock.

“i dare you to…” nora speaks, looking between ellie and dina, “kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”

such an easy dare, it’s almost lame, those aware of ellie and dina being a duo now, groaning to themselves.

but ellie doesn’t do anything.

she’s frozen, not even looking in dina’s direction, but rather yours. you think she’s searching your eyes for courage, but you don’t know what for. this shouldn’t be difficult. seconds are passing, everyone waiting for her to get it over with so they can continue the game.

just kiss her.

ellie can’t. she can’t break eye contact with you. and it’s not hard to understand why that is, your cheeks burning up while the rest of the room seems to go dead silent; also realizing what was playing out before them.

“i’m…i’m sorry,” she speaks hardly above a whisper, low mumblings from around her that embarrass her even more. judgement. it is possibly the worst thing she could’ve done, an awkward tension now between her and dina, and you and her. ellie wasn’t working up the courage to kiss dina in the first place. it was you.

but she wouldn’t do that— only in her head, watching the scene play out while everyone is watching her.

ellie quickly gets up, muttering something you don’t catch, and swiftly walks away. she heads to the front door, everyone’s short attention span already moving on, continuing the game. you cannot.

you stand up, a hand on yours holding you in place, preventing you from moving. you look down at abby and her pleading eyes, letting them do the talking. don’t follow her. stay.

you don’t. you retreat your hand, glancing at a distracted dina who was sipping on her drink, probably trying to ignore what ellie had just done, and you leave the living room.

you too exit the house, spotting ellie approach her truck across the street. you call her name out, the woman hardly turning her head over her shoulder, continuing to get inside the red vehicle. you understand she doesn’t want to show her face now, but she cannot hide from you. no, this has to be addressed.

even if you don’t really know what to say, or how to say it. you jog to her car, welcoming yourself inside, boring your eyes into her, while hers are on the windshield, snowflakes coating the glass.

“what was that, ellie?” you ask her, a soft tone as if you’re trying to understand her, rather than pass judgment. she’s sensitive, and she’s also shown empathy to you in times you’ve made mistakes. but that’s the problem— it wasn’t a mistake. she wanted to kiss you. there was no doubt about it.

“i’m with abby,” you continue when she stays quiet, “and you’re with—”

“no, i’m fucking not,” ellie cuts you off before her name leaves your lips, finally finding the strength to look at you. her brows are lowered, shaking her head, visibly irritated. “we aren’t— i don’t want —i want you.”

there it is. you mentally flinch at the confession, a confirmation on her feelings for you; something that cannot be undone and now will haunt you moving forward. it’s not like you can say the words back, because what you said is true. you are with abby.

your friendship with ellie is a friendship. you sigh her name, lowering your head. for some reason, ellie had hoped this moment would come and it would be different. something out of a coming-of-age film, you coming to terms with feelings she’d like to pretend you had for her. abandoning your girlfriend for her.

but you’re too sweet, and that simply is not happening.

“you...you know that i love you.”

she makes it worse. it has been said between you several times, but not like this. she means it in an entirely different, much deeper, meaning.

you don’t reply.

her brows tilt down, tears beginning to form as her body feels on fire. she’s not overcome with pure sadness, she’s frustrated. really fucking frustrated and confused and feeling alone with the feelings, wondering why you’re so calm— like you don’t care.

she thought you did, but she thinks lots of things about you. the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was mutual. you treated her like it was, you made her feel the most loved compared to everyone else in her life, because you knew the most.

the things that brought her joy, that you went out of your way to fill her life with.

a trading card from ebay. a vinyl she spoke about once. her gas station order after getting high together. the kindest things done with the purest intentions, and nothing more. she’s not ungrateful— she just doesn’t get it. she doesn’t want to.

“y-you can’t not feel something,” ellie sounds like she’s trying to convince you, stages of grief already settling inside her. denial, lots of it.

“ellie—” “you can’t.”

“i don’t,” you rush the words out, voice raising an almost unnoticeable level, but still makes ellie sink into her seat. those building tears are now free, a silent cry while she watches you, avoiding to look at her.

“i’m with abby,” you repeat, wondering why it feels like more of a reminder to yourself, than ellie. why it seems like a shield, protecting some sort of lie, or a truth. you take it further, “there was…never…anything between us…”

she talks beneath her breath, “fucking bullshit.”

“ellie.”

“you’re a liar,” ellie doesn’t care for the stern tone in which you spoke her name, a dark cloud of negative emotions hanging over her head. “she’s not fucking here and you’re trying to spare her feelings…what about me?”

you finally look at her, her glossy green eyes appearing so desperate. like you’re her life line. her heart in your hands. but you can’t give in, or give her what she’s yearning for. you cannot give yourself to ellie.

“you’re my best friend, ellie,” you say, watching whatever light leave her eyes at the comment, “and i love you…just not…”

you stop.

ellie holds her breath. a car honks in the distance. an intoxicated person shouts something inaudible. a chill from the cool wind seeps into her truck. the world is moving quickly while everything feels in slow motion for you. then she swallows thickly, “right.”

she wipes her tears, and you take off her jacket that was still on your body, holding it in your lap momentarily. your fingers trace the fabric, a small gulp before you speak in the quietest voice, “you should go…i need to get back before she gets mad.”

there’s a short, dry, scoff laugh from the girl beside you. “wouldn’t want that,” she mutters, “who would you run and cry to?”

there’s venom on her tongue that you’re not familiar with, hell, ellie doesn’t even know where it came from, biting her lip when you look at her with wide eyes; a cold stare that is equivalent to spitting in her face.

“i’m sorry—”

“i’ll tell them you were being stupid. they’ll forget about it next week.”

you had cut her off, a monotone voice that she despises. you open the car door, exiting despite ellie using your name, not wanting the night to end like this. the winter air sends chills down your spine, and yet it’s more comfortable than sharing the same space as ellie in her truck.

“y/n—”

“drive safe.”

her mouth hangs open, watching you shut the car door and walk away, no hesitation or looking back.

you return to the house, to your girlfriend, while she sits lonely in her pickup truck, not being able to turn on the engine. she can’t move. all she can do is cry; but she’s freezing and the tears feel like frost.

she wishes she had you to wipe them away, as she did for you.

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

I am friends with a driving school instructor. And the one story he always tells his students, almost right from the get-go, is one involving himself, a student driver, an 18 wheel truck, and a licensed average driver.

It was his student's first day driving. He took her out to a small intersection outside my house literally .25 miles away where you do pass by a warehouse district with tons of 18 wheelers.

The two of them stopped at the light behind one 18-wheeler, keeping safe distance and everything. He had a brake on his side specifically in case things went wrong, wherein he could regain control if the student lost it.

But the driver in the lane next to them decided it would be fine to cut that 18 wheeler truck off from a blind spot once the light turned green.

And she did.

You know what happened?

The truck slammed on its brakes, entirely caught off guard because this idiot cut in from a blind spot, he rammed into her car since he was not ready to stop and thusly totaled it, the truck got sent flying backward, and the new driver and my instructor friend who were behind him couldn't see any of this except for the truck flying backward. So my friend slammed on the brake but this wasn't enough to stop an enormous death machine hurtling toward them, and thusly their car and themselves wound up underneath the 18 wheeler with the roof of their vehicle torn away completely, and both sandwiched beneath the truck.

They were ok. Both he and the student lived. Suffered minor injuries on both of them, but as my friend said, word for word, "The same couldn't be said for the driver in front of us." He never EVER goes into detail beyond that.

And the dude is ex-military, he understands trauma and injury and he literally had no qualms about talking about things he saw during his service.

But he never once told anyone, as far as I'm aware, the sight he saw of that licensed driver when she cut an 18 wheeler off, and caused a major accident involving her car, the truck, as well as him and his student.

My friend says he was VERY lucky. One in a million. This was like divine intervention according to him.

He outright says this is not the outcome for anyone except themselves.

DO NOT RISK CUTTING IN FRONT OF OR RIDING THE ASS OF A TRUCK!!!! OF ANY SIZE!!!!! NEVER EVER!!!!!!!

Imagine being a fool thinking you can pull this shit so you do, only to have killed a teacher and a kid in his car on the kid's first ever driving lesson. A turning point for many kids who are just about to discover freedom and independence. And that kid gets none of that and never will because you thought it was ok to pull a stupid move which took their life, and that of a father just trying to make ends meet.

And don't even mention the bus outside my other friend's house one town over, which thought it would be able to drive through the stop sign that a giant garbage truck would pass from the perpendicular road without one, thus it did not slow down, and so that bus was struck and went flying, and a little girl was killed.

The funeral was held by a religious family in my neighborhood just at the end of my small street. My mother attended because she served that girl lunch each day for the few years she was alive and in elementary school.

Think about that.

A bus. A giant, full-sized school bus. Thought it could go faster than a garbage truck, and drove through a stop sign whereas the garbage truck had none, and as a result that bus was ploughed into and killed a little girl no older than 11.

A school bus held no ground against a truck.

Your car stands no chance.

Don't. Be. A. Fucking. Idiot.

Gods above just respect truck drivers on the road.

A PSA about trucks from a truck driver

I and some colleagues were talking about how we wish everyone could see the safety videos that our company was showing us, because I don’t think most people understand how traffic works in a truck. So here’s some things we wish everyone on the road knew.

- we’re not kidding about tailgating. If you’re right behind us on a straight highway? Chances are we have NO IDEA you’re there, which means we can’t anticipate any of your movements. Plus slowing down takes multiple downshifts, so we might start decreasing speed way earlier than you expect.

- We’re not kidding about any of our blind spots. WE CAN���T SEE YOU, GUYS.

- That bit about slowing down taking a while? The same goes for when you’re in front of us. Don’t cut off a truck. Oh god, PLEASE don’t cut off a truck. If you cut me off, I’m not irritated, I’m terrified. For YOU. It can take 7 to 9 seconds for us to stop. DON’T CUT OFF TRUCKS.

- Before you get mad about how slow we’re going on the highway, keep in mind that many companies govern their vehicles so they literally CAN’T go over 60 or 65. This is a good thing, I promise. Because…

- Do you know what happens when a car meets a truck in an accident? The car gets totaled and the truck needs a new coat of paint. You will not win this fight. I know nobody likes getting stuck behind a big dumb truck, but it’s not worth your life.

We are trying our best to protect you from our 80,000 pound death machines. Please help us out.

[gyaruhana]

I am in desperate need for more 001 / the front man fics TwT

Could the plot be : when 456 and others try to take over the controls room (last ep), 001 protects her from the guards ( or told the guards over the radio to not attack the player) thank you!

Hwang In-ho/Front Man - Favorites

Synopsis: In-ho decides you don't deserve to die so he makes sure you survive.

A/N: sorry if this is rushed i am trying to get so many other fics done now too !!

Warnings: none

Perhaps this whole mission was a really stupid idea. The sounds of gunshots rang through your ears as you listened to the yells of everyone else who had made the decision to help. You were starting to regret your own decision of taking a gun and choosing to help just because Young-il was going. You’d probably die here honestly. There just seemed to be a never-ending plethora of those guards running through and shooting at you and you couldn’t help but start to panic. 

Fuck, maybe you should just turn around and pretend like you were never a part of this poor attempt at a takeover. You weren't ready to die. Not today, not tomorrow, not even a decade from now. You just had to hold the fort down a little longer though. Just until Gi-hun and Jung-bae make it to the control room. You could wait that out. It wouldn’t take that long. At least, you kept telling yourself that. That everything was okay when it really wasn’t.

You took a deep breath before raising your gun and shooting at some of the guards from behind the pillar. Unfortunately for you, you quickly ran out of ammo making you pull back with a quiet curse. You shove your hands into your pockets to see if you had any more only to realize you’re out of ammo now. “Shit! I’m out,” you say as you look at the others and put your gun down next to you. 

“I’m almost out too,” Hyun-Ju spoke and the others seemed to have a nervous look on their faces - a clear sign they were quickly running out of ammo too. You leaned your head back as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe. All you could think about now was how you were definitely going to die here. You shouldn’t have tried to play hero. You should’ve stayed out of this so you could leave here in one piece and with a fuck ton of won. You were too lost in your fear to hear what the others were saying now and also too panicked to notice Young-il’s eyes on you.

He’d hate to admit it but seeing you like that made him feel guilty. He was annoyed at himself for lowering his guard so much and catching feelings for you when he really shouldn’t have. It was too complicated to fall for you when you were just a player, totally unaware that he was going to betray you all before Gi-hun even got close to the control room. If life was perfect, he would’ve taken you with him but he knew you’d never forgive him if you knew who he really was. 

It was then when he looked at the fear on your face did he decide you were not going to die here. Not in these twisted games he ran. You didn’t deserve death and, admittedly, he cared about you too much now to let you die. His focus on you was broken when Jung-bae started talking through the radio announcing that they believed they were right beneath the control room but needed more ammo and backup if they were going to make it.

“Did you hear that? They need backup!” he yells out as he looks to the others. “Three of us will go, the others will stay! Join us when you get the magazines!” he continued to yell through the loud echo of the bullets. Two of the men quickly offered to go as backup for Gi-hun and Jung-bae prompting Young-il to also go. Just as he was about to get up and head to the control room, your voice rang out.

“Wait! Are you sure?” you asked as you looked at Young-il with worry. Although Gwi-nam and Jung-bae needed some help and ammo, you didn’t want Young-il to be in danger. You weren’t sure what you would do if he died considering he’d been such a good friend to you. You’d never be able to get over his death - you knew that much. 

In response to your worry for him, he gave you a small smile as he looked at you before nodding his head. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry,” he says reassuringly. Seeing you look at him like that made his heart clench with both adoration and guilt. To know you worried for him almost made him rethink if he should be doing this or not. Of course, he quickly threw that thought away and turned around, heading to the direction Gi-hun and Jung-bae had gone. All you could do was watch him disappear through the door with a heavy heart as you pray this would work and he’d return unharmed.

Through the chaos of the shooting and the yelling, all you could think about was him. Even as everything went completely to shit and you all ran out of ammo after Dae-ho never came back and Hyun-ju left to go find him, you still kept thinking about him and if he was okay. Perhaps the threat of death being oh so real now was making you think about everything you had cherished in life - including the few days you got to spend with Young-il and how those days were arguably the best of your life.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t going to die here. Not as long as he was in control of these games. 

“Don’t kill Player 076,” he spoke through a radio to the guards after promptly shooting the guys that came with him and faking his death to Gi-hun. He shouldn’t be letting you live. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he did. He cared about you so much and he wished he could tell you the truth but he couldn’t. He’d just have to watch from afar and pull every string possible so you would live. He let out a sigh at the thought of you before quickly walking off to prepare himself to confront Gi-hun as who he really was - The Front Man.

You watched as your friends had no choice but to surrender until inevitably getting shot and killed. You flinched at the sound of the gunshots as you raised your hands in surrender and backed up. Were you crying? Yes. You were. Any sane person would be crying right about now after watching their friends die and realising they’re next to die. “Please. Please don’t kill me,” you begged as you closed your eyes and prepared for the worst. 

Except the worst never came. 

No. You were suddenly grabbed instead and pushed along as they walked. You weren’t sure what was happening. They had just ruthlessly shot your friends but they were leaving you to live? For what? So you could tell everyone what happened and teach a lesson to everyone not to try something like that again? You didn’t understand why you were spared when you really shouldn’t have been. You were just as guilty as the rest. You should have been shot too.

If only you knew the truth.

[evieelyzabethh]

'deep'

⭒'thinking 'bout ringing your line, i wish you would come home'⭒ make out + nsfw headcanons for Viktor

request✓: "Viktor make out headcanons (and maybe even nsfw hcs?) 👉👈"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬☽SFW☾▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

A tease, through and through. He likes to be begged for, to put it simply. He likes to worm his way into your brain and slither down your spine and make you shiver. He isn't one for PDA, or rather, he isn't the one to initiate it. There's too much volatile equipment in the lab, if ink is to spill on those notes it could set them back weeks, and one slight miscalculation could create an explosion. It's an unfair double standard with him. If you were to kiss him on the cheek, it's a real possibility he'll joking wipe it off, but he can mess with you all day long.

He is very patient while waiting for your resolve to crumble. He likes the journey between Jayce's presence in the room being your saving grace to your damnation as you try and will him telepathically to leave. He's amused hearing your pleas for him to stop teasing you becoming less honest as you lean into his lingering touches more and more. The way your eyes get wide when he asks you 'is it too hard? it's okay to want to tap out.' in relation to your work, but the way his accent is laid, almost slurred with how thick the words roll of his tongue, makes you think of something else.

His kisses are quick when you need them the slowest. After toying with you all day with his stupid dirty remarks and his pretty face and the way he flexes his hand or moves a spare gear between his fingers, you could eat from the palm of his hand. The blush on your cheeks is written off as a sign of an impending fever, even more believable because you're just so hot, and you lean into his cool hand against your forehead and look up at him with doe eyes that scream just take me home. He plants a kick peck to your check, and you twitch in irritation at the smug look on his face.

He's the type to make you chase him, your desperation feeding into what could only be sadism. He chides you for being desperate. 'I'm not going anywhere, doll, I'm just right here.' he says after pulling away from your hot kisses, removing your frantic hands from his neck and holding them in his. 'Good things come to those who wait.' He's a bit of a control freak in that way. He doesn't care how much you need it; you'll get it when he says so.

Despite his kisses being slow, his hands aren't. They work magic, he could work your bra off without you noticing. They also have a mind of their own, weaving between the buttons of your blouse to wrapping around your hair, tugging it as a sign of disapproval. Or sometimes he just holds your chin in one hand, brushing loose hairs from your face to memorize the look it holds. You would think he was a sculptor the way he delicately traces over each feature, grazing each freckle, feeling every divot in your lip. He's committing it to memory. He's not the type to keep polaroids, but he could immortalize both the before and after of your nights together into iron and stone.

Not often rough, but after enough of an adrenaline rush, maybe after a dose of shimmer, he could get there. He's not often messy, but after a rough day of frustration and failure, he's all teeth and tongue, mashing your face into his, practically falling into you with a fervor and anguish that is unfamiliar to the both of you.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬☽NSFW☾▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

He gives me sadist vibes. The type to tie you to the headboard and leave you there with a vibrator strapped to your clit until you are sobbing and begging for him to take it off. The type to talk to you like he hates your guts, cooing at you condescendingly giving you whiplash at the juxtaposition of his mean words and his sweet tone. The type to accuse of getting off on the idea of being caught by Jayce when you're fucking in the lab. 'You think he'd be surprised, pretty, seeing that his best friend is a fucking whore?' You get the picture.

He can be sweet. Even when he's jackhammering his cock down your throat, calling you the filthiest names under the sun, he really doesn't have a vicious bone in his body. His pupils are dilated too big for his expression to be of genuine disgust. His hands are too gentle, even as wiping the tears that he caused, to truly hate you.

I see a lot of headcanons saying that he prefers giving to receiving, which I don't personally agree with. Don't get me wrong, he loves being in between your thighs, it's his favorite way of pushing your buttons and pushing you to the limits. He likes how frustrated you get when he blows cool air onto your aching clit while you clench at nothing. He's mesmerized by the way his spit mingles with your overflowing cunt. But nothing beats the sight of you on your knees, drool dripping from your chin, eyes closed as you're trying to remember how to breath. It's the fastest way to turn his brain off, and lord knows he needs it.

Due to his experimental nature, he's definitely into edging, both being on a receiving and giving ends. He doesn't just want to test your limits, he wants to test his, and he is not one to give up. He easily gives into you after enough tears start flowing, but he could go until feels like he is about to pass out. You probably tap out before he does, his groans eventually becoming nothing more than breathy whimpers, his chest heaving, his hand wrapping around the hand currently wrapped around his red, leaking cock. He's almost delirious but it just hurts so good.

More of a groaner than a moaner. Definitely takes advantage of those nights where you're on top of him to bury his head in your neck just to groan in your ear and tell you just how good you look on top of him because he knows it gets you off.

This being said, aftercare usually consists of helping each other into the tub, taking turns scrubbing each other clean while exchanging a few wet kisses in the warm water. It's only long after the water goes cold that you leave, giggling back to bed, where if you ask nicely enough, he'll read to you as you both fall asleep.

[naridabarbi]

ATTENTION; juju watkins.

Juju Watkins x Fem!reader

Warnings: angst (if you squint) , sexual themes and language, bad proofreading

A/N: im literally inlove with juju and nobody writes for her! ugh.

“JUJU” You sucked your teeth, frustration bubbling up as the girl continued to play Fortnite. She wasn’t giving you even half the attention you were craving, and it pissed you off.

“Juju!” you called again, lightly tapping her shoulder. Still, no response.

“PAIGE! You’re selling the damn game!” Juju raged, adjusting the headset you’d just bought her.

You huffed, crossing your arms, before deciding enough was enough. You snatched the headset off her head.

Juju immediately snapped her head back to glare at you. “What’d you do that for?” she asked, her voice dripping with annoyance.

“Because I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes! I wanna watch a movie,” you said, pouting as you stood there, arms crossed.

Juju sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Okay, baby, one more game,” she tried to reason, but you were way past fed up at this point.

“If I wanted to be alone and ignored, I would’ve just stayed home, Judea,” you snapped, getting off the couch and storming toward her bedroom.

From behind you, you heard Juju groan before she started telling her friends she’d play with them tomorrow.

“Mama, get up,” Juju said, lightly tapping your thigh. You ignored your girlfriend, continuing to scroll through TikTok like she wasn’t even there.

Suddenly, you felt the bed dip, followed by soft kisses trailing down your neck. “I’m sorry, baby. Talk to me,” Juju mumbled, her face buried in your neck.

“I don’t wanna talk. Just go play your stupid game,” you huffed, rolling your eyes for extra effect.

Juju chuckled, clearly amused by your bratty attitude. She loved when you got like this—it kind of turned her on. Without a word, she slid between your legs, her body hovering just above yours.

Gently, she plucked your phone out of your hands, setting it aside. “Quit acting like that, baby,” she said softly, leaning down to press a kiss against your plump lips.

Even though her charm was undeniable, you weren’t planning on giving in anytime soon… or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

 "Mmh- fuck baby!" You moaned out, one hand reaching out to grip onto the bed frame in front of you for extra stability.

"Mmhmm" Juju moaned into you, taking her hands and rocking you back and forth while stroking in and out of you with her tongue.

Rolling your hips in tight circles, you whimpered and gripped tighter onto the bed frame with now both hands as the pleasure crept up on you, "wait wait fuck- juju!" you called out as you felt circles being rubbed against your puckered hole and juju's tongue going deeper and faster inside of you.

You lifted one of your legs against the bed and reached back to grab Juju's head, pushing her further into you wetness.

"Im so close Juju, so close" You said, looking down at the girl under you noticing that her eyes were closed.

Juju opened her eyes and held the contact, loving how broken and submissive you looked for her.

Pulling back from you she licked over her lips and stood to her feet, slyly slipping a finger inside of the you, hearing a soft sigh from you once she was deep enough.

"You don't even know how wet you got me right now mama, you look so good like this." Juju spoke adding in a second finger and using her other hand to grab your neck, already seeing your cream coating her fingers.

She stroked in and out of you, burying her face into your neck and giving you soft kisses.

"Are you gonna cum from my fingers baby?"she asked already knowing what was coming next.

"Y-yes. please don't stop" You fought to get out, feeling yourself about to reach that special bliss you've been chasing since you two started.

"Come on, let me see it. I want it all over me baby" Juju whispered, planting another kiss on your cheek.

"Fuck!" You squealed as your body stiffened abruptly, your cum flushing out of you and all over Juju's fingers and her inner thighs.

"That's my girl, you did so good mama" The taller coaxed, slipping her fingers out of the warm embrace  and into her mouth to clean them off.

[satosuguhastakenovermylife]

MWAH NAMI RIGHT BACK AT YA YOU HAVE YAPPED WITH ME ABOUT THE MOST RANDOM SHIT LIKE YOUR REACTIONS WATCHING HAIKYUU, AND FOR HYPING ME UP IN ALL THE THINGS I DO, FOR MAKING ME THE GLAMMEST SCIENTIST AND SO MUCH MORE!!! AND IM SO GRATEFUL AND GLAD THAT WE'RE CLOSE💕💕

OKAY SO BESIDES NAMI

@starry-toya - you listen to my bullshit all day long every single day idk how you do it but you do and that's fucking rad and I love talking to you and words can't describe how much I love you so this isn't that long because I think you know and I think I know already too and i hope we're together forever <3

@pepe-le-pax - the og bestie, you've listened to all my stupid ass existential crises and you've been there for me always for the past seven years and for that i cannot be more grateful. we've gotten a bit distant lately but i hope that phase doesn't last. love youu

@chronicinsanity - second person who deals with all my bullshit and stupidity, you're the funniest and my best friend. i dunno how I'll make it through bus rides without yapping to eachother because the only reason a lot of my days aren't completely shitty is because I get to talk to you at the start and end of every day at school. i love you so muchhh and I'm very surprised that I'm your best friend too because you are mine and I will miss you A LOT (sorry I'm just very sad about you leaving if you haven't realised lmao)

@getosugurusbangs - ELIIII YOU LITERALLY OOZE COOLNESS EVERYDAY AND I WAS SO NERVOUS TO TALK TO YOU AT THE START BUT YOURE SO NICE!! AND SO COOL!!! AND GREAT TO TALK TO AND I HOPE WE GET TO DO SO FOR A LONG TIME!! I LOVED THE BL RECS BTW AND THANKS FOR CHEERING ME UP AND CHECKING IN ON ME WHEN IM WAY OVER MY HEAD ILYSM <333 (penis bros 4lyf)

@riririnnnn - MY PARTNER!!!! YOU'RE SO COOL AND I LOVE TALKING TO YOUUUU WE ARE PARTNER FOREVAHHH AND LETS COPARENT OUR CHILD ONCE ISAGI GIVES BIRTH 💥💥💥 (on a more serious note, you were there to talk me down when i almost did something terrible to myself and I am so so glad you were genuinely you are a great friend and I love you lots)

@jujutsustraycats - BIG BRO ISH!!!! THANKS FOR ALL THE STUDY ADVICE AND FOR ALWAYS MOTIVATING ME TO DO BETTER <3 AND ALSO FOR BEING THE #1 COSMIYA ENABLER YOU ARE CHERISHED FOR THAT AND IK YOU'RE BUSY AND WE DONT GET TO TALK AS MUCH SOMETIMES BUT I LOVE TALKING TO YOUU!!! AND ILY AND I HOPE YOU'RE WELL LET'S YAP ABOUT A BUNCH OF SHIT WHEN YOURE FREE!!!!

@sharkissm - MAKIIIIII ILYSMMMM YOU'RE SO SWEET AND I LOVE TALKING TO YOU ON HERE AND ON DISCORD!!!! also you're the only one I can say the most out of pocket shit with and it's really fun!!!! i love you and let's talk a bunch of shit forever 💕

@blue-thief - you have the most GOATED takes ever literally i don't make the rules it's true. thanks for being the first person to tell me about whatever the fuck is going on in CSM and yapping with me about alnst 🫡 also thanks for helping me with julius caesar, your notes and essay was a fucking god send. ily and happy new year :3

@biggestcharleskinnie - CHARLIEEEE I LOVE YOUUUUUUU YOU'RE SO FUN TO TALK TO AND IK WE INTERACTED MORE ONLY RECENTLY BUT THAT ALONE HAS BROUGHT ME SO MUCH JOY!!!!! ILYSM BUT PLEASE END THE PEACHES WAR djfjdjdjf

@shrii-kk - SHRIIII IM SO HAPPY WHENEVER I GET TO TALK TO YOU!! YOU'RE SO PRETTY AND YOUR LOVE FOR ISAGI YOICHI TRANSCENDS PHYSICALITY JJJFJDDKWK i met you only a couple weeks back, but getting to chat with you on discord about various different shit has really gotten me through this month haha. i love you and I hope you're alright <3

@somepoetwannabe - HI SAM ILYSM!!! talking to all of yall has genuinely been great this year, and I'm so glad I met y'all through pranu on hex. i know some of y'all, i don't know a lot of y'all but I love you guys <3 WIL WHENEVER YOU FRONT NEXT LETS TALK ABOUT HOUSE MD PRETTY PLEASEE, love i love talking to you about music and just the little things :3 thalia you're so cool and i had a lot of fun talking to you too, and lastly bill you were the first one I met, and you're really nice and i wanna say thanks for trying to get me into tma, it seems genuinely so interesting but I fall asleep everytime I try listen to it because it's soothing sjdjdjfj AND I'VE ALSO TALKED TO A BUNCH OF YALL AND ITS BEEN GREAT BUT IM AFRAID IT'LL GET TOO LONG IF I GO ON HAHA

@hijinks-n-lowjinks - jinx!! i love talking to you about fandom stuff and it's really fun. you were one of my first mutuals on here lol and I got comfortable interacting with people on here because of the times I talked to you so thanks a lot <3

okay I'm ending the post here but every single mutual I've interacted on Tumblr is included here, i would've yapped more but I think this is already too long jsjsjdj anyways yeah :D

I love talking nonsense with you and I hope that we can talk nonsense with each other for the rest of our lives.

[susicheng]

▬▬ڪ smoke signals . . . p.js

childhood friend! jisung x gn! reader themes: fluff, getting together, first time smoking tgt, getting high, high confessions, high kissing, best friends to lovers, very minor sexual references(?)

in which: you teach a man how to smoke, take a vow of celibacy, and discuss your future children's bedroom designs before the first date. or: weed makes you lose your filter around jisung, which just so happens to be exactly the push you needed.

word count: 1773

smoke billowed up around you two as he exhaled, blowing a cloud out smoothly— until his cough. just one, short burst before he was done. you giggled helplessly as he watched on in confusion. nothing had hit him yet, even after his second hit. you hadn’t watched him when he took his first, but now that you did, you could pinpoint exactly the cause behind his normalcy.

“jisung you have to— oh my god, you aren’t hitting it right.” you grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his face as he looked on at the cart in confusion and tried to raise it to his mouth again.

“i’m doing it the same way you did. seriously, how could i be doing it wrong.” he pouted, far too dramatically for the situation, eliciting another round of quiet giggles from your lips.

“no you aren’t! you’re just letting the smoke sit in your mouth. listen to me closely jisung: you have to breathe in again after you hit the cart, before you blow it out.”

“you have to— what!? what are you talking about?”

you took both of his hands in yours, turning your expression into one demanding the utmost level of seriousness. 

“take one more hit.”

“what?”

“take another hit. but listen to me as you do it, mmkay?”

“i guess…” he sounded so defeated, it was adorable. 

he raised the cart to his lips again, holding down the button as he hesitantly sucked in a hit. his gaze met your own, seeking direction, as he lowered the cart from his mouth slowly.

“okay. now gasp like i just confessed my undying love for you.”

his reaction did not disappoint, a violent gasp effectively moving the smoke from his mouth to his lungs. this time, when he coughed, it was more of a coughing fit. that was more like it. you knew it was complete bullshit when he insisted he had to be “a natural” since he didn’t cough at all the first time. 

“there you go. attaboy!”

“i still don’t feel anything.”

“that’s because it takes time, silly. you don’t get high off your ass from one proper hit after 3 seconds have passed.” you laughed in his face, taking the cart from where he had left it between his pointer finger and thumb. your stupid, horny weed brain decided to freeze your eyes on jisung’s hand, staring like a creepo as thoughts of “wow.. nice hands. wow…. how have i never noticed” began to flood your brain. it took a muffled “what the fuck” falling from jisung’s lips to break you out of your trance. 

for a moment, your heart stopped, thinking his comment had been about your sudden interest in his hands.

instead, what was waiting for you when you finally raised your eyes, was a jisung with very dilated pupils and big round eyes. you smiled.

“feeling it yet?”

“jeez. i feel like i’m levitating right now.”

this time, your own giggles were mirrored with jisung’s fit of laughter. 

“hold on— i can help.”

without a second thought, you adjusted to swing a leg over his hips, effectively placing yourself— guess where— directly on jisung’s lap. the same jisung that you had been irrevocably in love with since the 7th grade? yeah. that one.

stupid, stupid weed brain. you were never going to smoke again. that was it. you’re taking a vow of celibacy. but, like, weed celibacy. was there a weed equivalent to alcohol anonymous, you wondered. you were about to reach for your phone to google “weed wanonymous near me” until you remembered— oh yeah, you were sitting on your best friend’s lap right now.

as you exited the little room you were occupying in your mind, consciously using your eyes to see again, you were met with a face of wide eyed shock: jisung. his body was completely frozen, hands hovering hesitantly above your waist. but he wasn’t pushing you off. he wasn’t reacting immediately with disgust. 

“is… is this okay?” even if his immediate response didn’t show signs of clear discomfort, you had to make sure. you loved him too much to let impulsive thoughts ruin the friendship you had built up over years of knowing each other.

a desperate nod of his head told you all you needed to know, a bright smile lighting up your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug.

“you’re the best. you’re so warm.” his arms around you filled you with warmth, fighting the chill of the a/c. 

you had no idea how much time passed like that, your rhythm completely obscured by the effect the weed had on you. all you knew is how warm, and comfortable you felt in his embrace.

suddenly, the little demon in your mind woke up again. the weed demon.

well, the horny weed demon. the weed sex demon. the high sex demon. that one. that little demon woke up again. “ask to blow smoke into his mouth” it said. no, it demanded. demands were a bigger deal than “said”s. you had to do it now. that held the same weight as a triple dog dare. and you could never turn down a triple dog dare. 

“hey jisung?”

“mmm?” oh. that boy was high. he was in the barely verbal stage. when the fuzziness became the main player.

“jisung, wake up.” you shook his shoulders once, twice, until you saw the awareness return into his gaze.

“oh my god. this is crazy, i feel like i’m going insane.”

“you’re cute. can i try something?”

he looked at you inquisitively, eyebrow raised. his hands were still on your hips, only having adjusted slightly to a more comfortable position there since pulling away from the hug. you noticed this just now, but you had to get your thought out now. overthinking his hand placement was a game for the future you to play at. 

“have you ever heard of shotgunning smoke?” he looked at you in confusion. of course he doesn’t fucking know what that means, idiot. he barely knew what a cart was before you showed him yours in 10th grade. 

“fuck. okay um. basically. i’m going to take a hit, and then we’re going to basically kiss, and i’m going to blow the smoke into your mouth.”

“so like a fake hover kiss with smoke?”

“yeah, exactly like that. you got it jisung. that. i want to do that.”

“isn’t it kind of pointless? neither of us will actually get a real hit out of it. plus, why not just kiss for real?”

“you’re right. you’re right. yeah actually… that kind of is just a waste of a hit.” you sighed, horny demon put to sleep. until, hold on, there was another line of that sentence. alarms were blaring, your horny demon was screaming, you were staring silently at jisung, and you were also taking too long to continue in a way that was coherent.

“i want to raise children with you.” that’s what you ended up on. this is the fate that the horny demon decided for you. you were busy accepting the sad fact that your nearly 15 year long friendship with jisung was over as of tonight. you could wave bye-bye to your twisted fantasy of wooing him with your astronomical knowledge when you visited that observatory you had bought tickets for a month ago. there goes that plan.

and then you felt hands slide up your body to cradle your face. you felt one of those hands move into your hair to gently coax your head downwards, and you felt soft, slightly chapped lips meet yours in a gentle press. it was a peck, simple and innocent. except your heart was racing. your head was blaring “i’m so in love with this man” “i need to have him in every way imaginable” “i need to be by his side for the rest of my life” and you decided to silence the onslaught of thoughts by eagerly reconnecting your lips to jisung’s.

there was more to it this time, both of you getting the chance to move your lips slightly out of sync (marijuana does not make synchronized movement an easy task). a slide of your hand onto his chest. a gasp as you nipped at jisung’s lip. a smile, interrupting the (admittedly mismatched) flow of your kiss. in no time, both you and jisung were smiling ear to ear, high as hell and drunk off of each other’s lips. 

“hey.” his voice was a little squeaky, like he hadn’t recovered enough air yet to get the word out properly. you laughed.

“hey.” you parroted him, smiling softly.

“i’m kind of in love with you, honestly.” those words, falling down from his perfect lips, floating up into your auditory range, registering in your head. your heartbeat picked up. a flush found its way to your cheeks. jisung just said he was in love with you.

“oh. that’s perfect actually, because i’ve been crafting an in depth bedtime scenario of our entire life story together since we graduated high school.”

“you’ve been what?”

“we’re scheduled to have a wedding at yerkes observatory in exactly 824 days.”

“you would make our wedding venue be an observatory?” he seemed genuinely touched. you fucking knew that would be the right choice. 1 point to the little employee in charge of sleep scenario crafting in your head.

“i’m proposing to you when we go stargazing in 437 days at the same field we go to on our first date. i felt like the space theme should be continued. we also paint the milky way on our first daughter’s nursery walls.”

“you’ve really thought about it that much?”

“you should see my notes app, jisung. i have to cut off my whole ‘falling asleep’ process if i start imagining a situation that’s too good to get lost to my dreams.”

“can i be your boyfriend? please?”

“oh. yes. yeah. of course.”

his responding smile was blinding. he was practically vibrating in place. his hands snapped up to hold your face gently, his lips frantically pressing all over your face, kissing on the tip of your nose, on your forehead, on the corner of your mouth, on your eyelids when your eyes fluttered closed. he pulled back slowly, still grinning as he moved his hands down to your waist again. the look in his eyes shifted slightly. you were too high to process what his change in expression meant.

“you can blow smoke into my mouth if you want to, by the way. i think it sounds hot.”

“... huh?”

mel yaps: did i reread this before posting? nooopeee. did i write this while high? yurp! am i posting this while still high? you know it!! happy new year all, this is my real new year present for you.

#: @f6llsun (sorry for ur 10 thousandth tag of the night... idk why i keep uploading stuff that's my bad)

[fairlyang]

No Te Contaron Mal 🕷️

w/c: 2.5K

pairing: fwb!miguel o’hara x latina!reader

tags: 18+ smut. fwb to lovers, jealousy, stubborn to not tell him, finding out he kissed another girl, getting mad, folding anyway, sucking him off, then getting mad n jealous again, arguing, kinda toxic but funny, reciprocated feelings, dumb confession, making out, grinding, riding, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: something so dumb and silly- y’all this song pisses me off every time i listen to it i HAD to finish this

smutmas masterlist | main masterlist

imagine just having a casual thing going on with miguel. you could call it a friends with benefits type of deal but you weren’t exactly going out with other people but it also wasn’t anything exclusive.

now the problem happened when one of your friends told you that she saw miguel kissing another girl at a club. something in that moment changed but you couldn't get yourself to admit that it was jealousy. especially when you made such a big fuss of it being something casual and nothing more.

so you did what you thought was best to get rid of even the mere thought of jealousy/your true feelings for him and just ignored him.

especially because you had gotten into a stupid argument yesterday which probably led to him making that decision in the first place.

the next day he texted you and the pure audacity of a man to want to fuck the night after kissing another girl was astonishing.

but he didn’t know that you knew and even if he did, he’d just tell you that you have no business to complain because you were the one that wanted something casual.

so you were fucked no matter what and folded anyway.

after he ate you out and made you forget all about your inner horrid feelings, you decided to repay the favor so you were between his legs on his bed sucking him off just how he liked.

his praise this time around had you feeling different, in a way made you shy and not want to look at him. so you closed your eyes, thinking it would help if you didn’t see him and that it wouldn’t bring the flashbacks of your heart being broken into little pieces from your friend telling you what she saw last night.

but yet his words now felt gentle, and for once in his life, loving. it was weird but nice. really nice.

you didn’t know what it was, just that your face felt like it was burning and your heart was fucking pounding. there was no way he knew but now it just brought up the question of why did it have to be casual?

why didn’t he wanna take you out to drinks to show you off to his friends? to kiss you in public like you were his? and even though he has you as a reliable booty call, why the fuck did he still feel the need to be kissing other girls?

you've dropped hints here and there, at times bringing your flirt game to extremes so he can figure it out himself but would apparently still be clueless.

if he wanted it to be something more he would’ve told you by now because some things he’s said makes it seem like he did. there was still a part of you that just had an inkling he might feel the same.

but although maybe you were just losing it since he literally kissed another girl last night.

the annoyance and jealousy quickly came back, pissing you off so badly and you couldn’t keep it in anymore. your eyes shot open and you pulled away from him, quickly sitting up and reaching over to put on his shirt to cover yourself while he looked at you confused and concerned, “why the fuck were you kissing another girl last night?”

he scoffed and shook his head in disbelief looking at your face to see if you were joking. he was quiet for a few seconds, absolutely shocked before finally speaking, “are you fucking serious?”

“eva dijo que te vió-“ (eva said she saw you-)

“es enserio…?” he says with the most dumbfounded look on his face, “please tell me you’re fucking with me.” (is this serious/real..?)

“me contó mal o que? ya dime para hacerme la idea de verdad.” you spat and cross your arms against your chest. (did she tell me wrong or what? tell me now so i can have the idea in mind for real)

you weren’t so sure what answer you wanted and knew you had no right to complain but still. this has been a situation for years now and even with all the arguments and the endless bickering, you've still stuck together and never swayed from each other.

until now.

“quieres hablar de esto ahora? ahorita mismo?” he asked and you scoffed, “cuando más?!” (you wanna talk about this now? like now, right at this moment?) (when else?!)

he tried his hardest not to laugh, knowing damn well if he did, you might just kill him.

he was shell shocked, and couldn’t believe this was actually happening. of all possible things he thought you’d be upset at or have to complain about that wasn’t even in his head as an option.

he never would’ve guessed that you knew otherwise he would have avoided sending a text in the first place.

“you’ve got me fucking speechless- i can’t believe this.” he mutters and you chuckle, "can say the same thing about you."

"don't do that-" he starts but you quickly interrupt, "don't do what?"

"you know what." he says calmly and you scoff.

there was a solid moment of silence for maybe a minute before finally he sighs and nods, “i’m gonna answer all your questions okay? but you have to let me finish.”

“fine.”

“no te contaron mal y ni te lo voy a negar.” he starts making you groan but he gives you a look before you could start to complain. (they didn’t tell you wrong and i’m not even going to deny it.)

“we kissed but that was it. maybe a couple times but it was only that.. okay maybe a couple caresses too but that was really it.” he explains and your heart starts beating faster with every passing word.

you give him a look and he sighs, unable to just not tell you the whole truth, “we flirted, i mean what was i suppose to do? you shouldn’t have an opinion on this given you practically cut me off yesterday..”

and before you could even begin to correct him, he just kept going,” and you know what, i got drunk because of you so if you think about it… this is your fault.”

you could only gasp then scoff before he immediately regretted it, shaking his head and coughing, “what i meant to say… that it was just one girl, and one is nothing. especially since it was just a couple kisses.”

“it doesn’t count as anything and truth be told, i couldn’t stop thinking of you.” he says, the last part making you gulp.

“just need you to know that you have me so fucked up in here.” he adds and points to his head.

“i have you fucked up?!!?!” you asked and he nodded.

“yesterday you went on another tangent that this is casual and i believe you said that nothing could change that so tell me, what the fuck changed?” he asked, sitting up and scooting towards you.

beyond annoyed, embarrassed, and lowkey ashamed, you were just about ready to do the walk of shame out of his apartment and drive your ass home. but he wasn’t going to let you.

there was determination in his eyes and you didn’t think you’d give him a confession in this point and time. let alone after being the one to always remind him it was nothing serious but yet it’s been serious.

at least it was on your end.

you’ve just been digging a hole to store those feelings in because after doing this with him for so long, you didn’t actually expect to gain something else for him that wasn’t purely sexual.

“i figured if i was the one to keep repeating this was as casual as can be then maybe…” you start then take a very deep breath before letting it out and looking away from him.

“then maybe i’d stop thinking of you in another way. or that i wouldn’t get excited when you’d text me or that i wouldn’t laugh at your stupid fucking jokes.” you explain, letting out a chuckle before continuing, “i just figured if i kept repeating the same thing over and over that i’d be able to convince myself that i didn’t like you. that this really is casual and that i haven’t lost it.”

you stopped and relaxed, taking slow breaths while you felt him scoot closer to you. you were already dreading this whole conversation and wish you could just fly away from your problems.

but unfortunately that wasn’t an option.

his hand went to your chin, gently bringing it up so you could look into his eyes. he had a stupid grin on his face while he just sighed and shook his head, “you’re too fucking stubborn.”

he moved his hands to your cheeks and brought your face to his, surprising you with a kiss while you gasped and quickly kissed him back. he smiled through the kiss, finding it to be sweet and freeing, given this was completely unplanned but not unwelcomed.

you quickly straddled him while he moved you both back so he could be closer to the pillows. your hands were already in his curls tugging on them while he slid his tongue into your mouth and his hands went down to your hips, making you grind against his hard on. you both moaned and you quickly ate it up, gliding your tongue against his while you grind against him bare.

his hands gripped your skin, somewhat tugging on his shirt wanting to take it off but you were making the kiss so hot and sloppy, he couldn’t be bothered to actually take it off you. he brought a hand down, moving his dick so you can slide on it better, knowing it won’t take too long before you get impatient.

but you weren’t, at all.

you were so caught up in the kiss that neither of you pulled away and didn’t feel the need to like you would any other day. hell, you never really kissed ever but after a confession like that, it felt right.

so you continued kissing him like your life depended on it while occasionally moaning into his mouth making him do the same.

meanwhile his hands were grabbing, and squeezing every part of your body.

up and down your back, on your thighs, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples, smacking your ass. absolutely everything while you kept slowly grinding against his dick, leaving it all wet with your slick.

he was trying his hardest not to explode and just deal with the edging, as well as how warm and wet you were just because he couldn’t believe this was happening. he had to restrain himself, he didn’t want to waste a load that could easily be inside you.

you felt him twitching and your poor pussy was clenching, so you decided enough was enough and brought a hand down to his dick, lifting yourself up a bit and line his tip to your entrance.

he softly kissed you while you did so, just slowly lowering yourself down, taking him in and feeling him stretch you out. he tried his best to keep quiet but his head was mush and he was losing it.

once you bottomed out, he moaned in your mouth then pulled away, “fuck-“

you leaned your forhead against his and lifted your ass up just to slam down making him hiss, “eager huh?”

you chuckle and shrug, “maybe, may as well right?”

“seems you’re close anyway baby.” you tease making him playfully roll his eyes.

“some things never change huh?” he teases back and holds onto your hips, helping you come up.

he then makes you go down and you go back up again before he slams you down. you then do it all again but this time without stopping since you’d gotten enough practice to actually be able to ride him yourself.

he just very occasionally liked lending a helping hand or two.

and not just because he was greedy but also because he knew how much you love his touch. so it was to no surprise one hand was on your hip and the other came up front to squeeze one of your breasts.

you moved faster, wanting this to be a short ride so you could just lay in his arms afterwards and hear his own confession. at times he was a man of few words but tonight didn’t feel like one of those times.

especially not with how extra touchy feely and vocal he is.

it was like a miracle in disguise that you confessed, he was praising you like never before and even looking at you differently. in the best way imagineable too. maybe there was a chance he always has looked at you in a loving way or maybe it was just wishful thinking but it’s definitely the real deal now.

suddenly he grabs your head and you’re now looking over his shoulder, “your patience ran thin baby?” you whisper in his ear and he just grunts, “just hold on.”

you wrapped your arms around him and he did the same before he started thrusting into you making you jump and hold onto him tighter. he was fucking into you with ease, his thighs doing the work for him while you cried out into his shoulder.

your nails dug into his shoulder blade and back only motivating him to do it even faster. he was hitting your sweet spot so effortlessly and it was too good.

too good that you already felt your orgasm build up in your lower belly. you gasped and tried to control your moans but with his ruthless pace it was to no use and they blessed his ears anyway.

“baby i’m so close- fuck- it’s too much.” you whine making him let out a loud groan.

“it’s okay baby, i’ve got you. gonna cum so good for me, aren’t you pretty girl?” he murmurs amiing whimpers leave your mouth.

“i always take good care of you, don’t i?” he asked and you just hum, nodding.

you held onto him even tighter and lay your head on his shoulder as he thrusted harder into you. the sounds were even louder than before and him doing it like this made it feel ten times better just because he can hit your sweet spot deeper.

you closed your eyes shut as your orgasm hits your entire body, leaving you shaking and crying out while miguel spilled his load inside you also shaking. your body spasmed a bit and your walls entrapped miguel’s cock, making him groan and give one final thrust to ride out your highs.

you were both breathing heavily and holding onto each other while attempting to catch your breaths. miguel took deep breaths and laid down properly while you shifted around to get comfortable and lay your head on his chest.

he kissed the top of your head then your forehead and let out a sigh as he wrapped his arms around you gently. your eyes felt heavier by the second and the last thing you heard was him saying this was never casual for him before drifting off to sleep.

[thefallennightmare]

Noah feels the familiar darkness creeping inside of him. The only thing that can help is you, his roommate. But when you’re not home, Noah is beside himself on what to do.

CW: depression, vulnerable Noah, slight confessions of feelings.

Noah couldn’t breathe. It felt as if hands were wrapped around his throat, nails digging into the tender flesh to cut him open. Expose all of his dark and deepest thoughts. The ones that continued to drag him under, down to the depths of his mind. The place he was so desperate to stay out of.

He’d done so well at staying out of there. Noah was happy for a long while, living with some of his best friends while on break from Bad Omens.

Living with you.

You and Noah had always been close but never more than just roommates. Much to his dismay. He wanted more. Craved to be the one that held you when you slept or have his lips graze over every inch of your skin.

Yet he knew it could never be that way because you didn’t feel the same. You only saw him as a friend.

Maybe that’s why he was finding himself in this darkness, looming over him like a cloud ready to burst with thunder. His feelings mimicked the weather outside and rain violently thrashed against the windows of the living room.

The weight on his chest was crushing now and Noah rubbed a hand over his sweater, trying to work out the feeling like a knot. He wasn’t entirely sure where this darkness came from, he woke up feeling this way. The guys were all gone for the day, including you. You were busy at work which meant you weren’t able to be on your phone to see the few texts Noah sent you.

No one was able to pull him out of the darkness like you could. Your scent, your soft touch through his hair, and the way you always cracked a stupid joke to make him laugh.

The time on his phone told him that you wouldn’t be home for awhile yet so as he knee bounced while he sat on the couch, Noah came to a rash decision on something he thought would help even a little.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached your room quickly yet hesitated with a hand on the door knob. You were very private on the things behind this door. You didn’t like it very much when the guys barged in without knocking. As much as you loved your roommates, you loved your privacy more.

“Fuck,” Noah choked on a breath when the phantom fingers around his throat tightened. “Sorry, Angel.”

Pushing the door to your room opened, your familiar scent of peaches brushed along his nose and he could already feel the weight lifting. While every morning you made your bed and tidied up your room, you didn’t today because you had woken up twenty minutes before your shift started so you practically sprinted out the door with nothing but a wave over your shoulder to the guys.

Now Noah stared at the unmade bed, your forest green comforter and black sheets almost inviting him in. Yet he stood with great pause, unable to commit. He wasn’t sure what the plan was once he stepped into your room, he just needed to feel your presence. It still wasn’t enough though.

Noah needed to feel you around him.

Kicking off his slippers, he slipped underneath your covers and felt his soul practically vibrate. The grip around his throat was still there albeit less than before. He could start to feel air fill his lungs again. With a burden so heavy he couldn’t hold himself any longer, Noah succumbed to the darkness.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt the bed dip next to him, a warm hand brushing away the hair from his face. Words were mumbled together as he buried his face deeper into the silk pillowcase.

“Noah,” an angelic voice breathed against his ear.

Weak eyes fought to open but there was still a lingering feeling of dread wrapped around his throat so he was unable to see the beauty before him.

“Shh,” cooed the angelic voice. “Don’t try and wake up for me, Noah. Rest. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Arms wrapped around his side to his stomach while a face buried into his back.

When he awoke again, the rain had seized and the sun was bursting through the curtain of your room, blanketing both of you in warmth. And when Noah turned over in bed, he was almost shocked to see you already staring at him, a lazy smile on your face.

“So my bed is more comfortable than yours, huh?” You teased.

Sheepishly Noah buried his face into the crook of your neck to hide the crimson that covered his cheeks. This wasn’t anything new between you two, holding each other. Which could be why he felt so strongly for you. But you had to feel the same way, right? With how tightly you were holding onto him, dragging a hand up and down his large back.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know you don’t like people in your room when you’re not home but I just-I didn’t know-.”

You hushed him with a brush of your lips over his forehead, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“Noah, you’re always welcomed in my space. Especially when you’re feeling like the world is caving in. I will never turn you away. You mean so much to me,” the words just tumbled out of your mouth.

The second you stepped foot into your room after a long and hard day of work to see Noah asleep in your bed, you let out a choked sob. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

Mochi eyes glanced up at you and it took every ounce not to kiss him. Noah, however, could feel the magnetic pull growing between you. Yet he didn’t want to push too far, especially in his state of mind. While the heavy weight on his chest had seized, the darkness still lingered.

Instead, he rolled to his back so now it was you laying on his chest, your leg hooking over his hips to keep him locked in place.

“Thank you,” Noah started, letting out a long breath. “For letting me sleep in your bed. I can’t explain it but the familiarity of you, your presence or scent helps calm me.”

Leaving a tender kiss to his cheek, you hummed. “Anything for you, Noah. I’m always here for you.”

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

When Steve invited Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Robin, Vickie, Eddie, and Chrissy over for New Years, he really didn't think it through. They were all coupled together, and Steve wasn't. Even Argyle brought his current lover to the party. Steve had quickly disappeared into the kitchen and cursed.

"You're so fucking stupid, Steve," he told himself.

Sure, he was happy by himself, but he also liked romance. . .he liked being with people, especially with people he cared about. The dating game had been depressing for him since spring break. The minute he took off his shirt, suddenly, they needed to leave. He even thought he got lucky once when he almost hooked up with a guy. Steve had taken off his shirt, and the guy looked at his scars, softly said "ew" before making an excuse to leave. It had been quite hurtful, so Steve just decided to stop trying, and he hated it because while he was happy that he had his friends, his family, he was also lonely. He loved spending time with Eddie and Chrissy, too, but they just reminded him that he didn't have a partner. Steve couldn't decide which one of them he was jealous of.

"Hey, big boy," he heard Eddie's voice.

Steve turned around to find Eddie and Chrissy standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Are you alright, Steve?" Chrissy asked.

"Uh, yeah. . .I just really didn't think this through," Steve said. "I don't have anyone to kiss at midnight."

"Well, hell, I'll kiss you," Eddie said, waving his hand at him.

"What about Chrissy? She won't have someone to kiss," Steve said.

"Shit, yeah, that's true," Eddie frowned.

"We'll both kiss you!" Chrissy exclaimed rather cheerfully.

"How?!" Steve and Eddie asked.

"Well, Eddie will take one corner of your mouth, and I'll take the other," Chrissy said.

"It could work," Steve said thoughtfully and then tried to make a joke. "Yeah, okay, but don't go falling in love with me. . ."

Eddie and Chrissy shared looks of amusement before looking back at Steve.

"Too late," they said.

"What?" He asked.

"Oh, come on, I thought we were obvious," Eddie scoffed.

"We did keep inviting you out on our dates, and we kept asking you if you wanted a sleepover," Chrissy said. "And then you stopped hanging out with us for a while."

"Yeah, we assumed you weren't interested," Eddie shrugged.

"But I - I thought I was getting in between your relationship with Chrissy," Steve said.

"That's exactly what we wanted, sweetheart," Eddie said.

"But - I, uh, - both. . .at the same time? I never thought - ," Steve said, and he ran a hand through his hand. "I didn't know which one to choose, and I never thought I could choose both."

"There's nothing stopping you," Chrissy said as they moved closer to him.

They stood on either side of him, basically locking him in.

"My dating skills might be a little rusty," Steve blushed. "It's been pretty disastrous over the last few months. No one's really wanted to look at me, let alone touch me. One guy went literally went ew when he saw my scars."

"And you think Chrissy and I know what we're doing? I haven't dated anyone, and the last relationship Chrissy was in was arranged by her mother. We're all figuring things out," Eddie said, and then what Steve had said sunk in. "Wait. . .what guy said ew to you?"

"It doesn't matter," Steve said, blushing as Eddie wrapped a comforting around his shoulder.

"Give me a name, Steven," he said softly. "I'm just going to talk to the guy."

"Yeah, but I feel like you're not going to use your words," Steve said frowning.

"You can't kill him, Eddie," Chrissy giggled.

"And why can't I?" He asked.

"Because you just got off the murder charges over spring break, I don't want you to go to jail," Chrissy said.

"Oh, so, when I want to kill a guy, I have to stand down, but when I tell you not to kill a guy, I'm supposed to just let you pout about it for a month," Eddie said and waved his hand at her. "Ah, double standard."

Eddie flashed his dimples at Chrissy as she laughed.

"Who did you want to kill?" Steve asked.

"Andy," Chrissy said.

She started playing with the buttons on Steve’s collar. He had his button-up done all the way up to hide the scars around his throat.

"You should have just let her kill him," Steve said.

"Yeah, well, I think it's a possibility. I think she might be scheming with Nancy," Eddie said.

"I am," Chrissy said with a giggled.

All of her focus was now on Steve’s shirt. She was popping it open one by one, and Steve didn't stop her from going all the way down. . .curious at what they would say. Finally, Chrissy had it opened, exposing his torso and his scars. Her fingers trailed down from the scar around his throat to the scars on his lower abdomen.

"You're beautiful inside and out, Steve," Eddie breathed, tucking a hair behind his ear. "I think you forget that I have scars too."

He grabbed Steve’s hand and brought it underneath his shirt, letting Steve feel it. Chrissy brought her lips to Steve’s throat, kissing his scars gently. Eddie did the same, burying his head into Steve’s neck. Steve’s eyes fluttered, and he moaned as Eddie's hand went to the scars on his stomach. . .right above the belt. God, it felt like he was being devoured. . .in a good way, though.

"Shouldn't we save the kissing for midnight?" Steve gasped as Chrissy nibbled at his skin.

"That's only for the lips," Eddie whispered. "Doesn't mean we can't kiss you anywhere else. . .big boy."

"Hey!" They heard Robin yell. "You're going to miss the ball dropping!"

Steve hurried to button his shirt up and tuck it back into his pants as he rushed back into the living room after the others.

"You missed a button," Robin said in amusement and then grinned. "Slut."

"Definitely," Steve laughed.

"Chrissy's lipstick is all over your neck," Robin said and then looked over at Eddie. "And if Eddie was wearing lipstick?"

"It would be there, too," Steve blushed.

"Happy for you, dingus," Robin said.

"You're about the miss the ball dropping, Robin," he said.

"Oh, right!"

3. . .2. . .1!

Eddie and Chrissy kissed Steve on the corners of his mouth just like they said they would. It was so soft. . .so gentle. . .so perfect.

"Happy New Year," Eddie and Chrissy said, taking his hands in theirs.

"Happy New Year," Steve whispered, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

He had been happy before, but he was happier now, and maybe it had something to do with being wanted twice. . .not just for his body, but for who he is. Yeah, a Happy New Year, indeed.

[multiwreckedmess]

[12:39AM]

Remember when i said i'd write some mean yunho? for @yunlazia​

Pairing: cheater!yunho x cheater!fem!reader WC: ~3k Summary: A lowkey continuation of my Kinktober - Intercrural fic. You and Yunho have too many friends in common to avoid each other. So what if you don't? Standard disclaimer, this is meant for 18+ and my blog is 18+ please do not interact if you are not 18+ because I AM OLD. You don't WANT to interact with me just as much as I don't want to interact with YOU.

This fanfic is, as the genre defines it, FICTIONAL. It is in no way a representation of Yunho or any Ateez member.

TW/CW: Cheating. If you aren't down with a fictional cheating fic, just back out now. Also it is consented but not really? Extended below the cut.

TW/CW: Unrealistic, time-jumpy, not proofread. PIV sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside. Big cock Yunho. Minor hand kink. Fingering (fem receiving). Rough. Reader doesn't say yes but also is given very clear direction that if she says no, Yunho will stop. Reader called Princess a fair amount.

 It would’ve been more understandable if you were blackout drunk. Or even just more than half a watered down drink into the night. This, this you couldn’t blame on anything but your own weak will.  “I need some air,” Yunho tugged at your elbow, more lightly than you’d care to admit for how easily you followed him. A bad idea. “Be back soon,” he volleys a wink at the pretty thing he’s been chatting up for the last fifteen minutes. Dickhead.

 Yunho’s strides are long, his legs extending much farther than you remembered, as you practically trot alongside him to keep up. “Where the fuck are you taking me in such a fucking hurry?”  He stops and blinks. “I’m getting a pack of smokes.”  “Why the fuck do you need me?”  “I don’t.” He resumes his strides as you follow, indignantly half stomping when you’re able to catch him.  “Then why did you pull me along?!”  Yunho shrugs, “I tapped your elbow. I didn’t expect you to follow me. You could always turn around and head back to the party.”  You groan. Mostly upset with yourself for falling so easily back into his stupid games. “You’d leave a lady alone in the middle of the dark?”  “No, I wouldn’t leave a lady alone,” his gate slows as he eyes you up and down meaningfully. A smirk tickles his cheeks. “Yeah, I wouldn’t leave a lady, would I?” He resumes his brisk pace with you in tow.  “What the fuck are you implying?”  Yunho turns quickly on his toes, letting you smack full velocity into his chest. One hand holding you by the base of your spine to him. “A lady,” he sneers, “wouldn’t let a man cum in her panties while her boyfriend waits for her in the adjoining room, would she? If I can remember correctly your tight little cunt was practically begging for it. So no, I wouldn’t leave a lady in the dark, but you, I’d do a lot of things to you I wouldn’t do to a lady.”

 His hand burns in its place miraculously through your layers of coat and sweater. His leg slotted between yours just subtly enough to make it feel unintentional, natural, like he’d never left. As if the flames of hell themselves had come from the ground to lick the side of your face you can feel arousal creeping up from your core and catching in your gut. It’s not until he releases you to start briskly walking towards the light of the gas station that you realize you hadn’t breathed since he caught you. You follow after him, jaw tense and tongue tied. If you could prove him wrong you would, but you can’t, so you stew.

 Yunho stays exactly one pace ahead of you. Just fast enough that to keep up with him you’d need to swap to a slow jog instead of a quick walk. The bright lights burn cold overhead. Nasty lighting. It turns the white propane tanks dingy and grey below it.  “I hate it when you smoke.” The words hit him as his hand presses into the metal push bar of the door.  “So why did you keep following me?”  “I don’t feel right about that-- what we--you--no, we. What we did.”  Yunho smirks over his shoulder, “first time?” The door swings open as he continues through, leaving you staring aghast at his sheer audacity momentarily before following after him. “It was fun though, right? Exciting?” His eyes scan the shelves of snacks, not seeming to really look for anything.  “Immoral.”  “But that doesn’t preclude being a good time. In fact-” he turns suddenly to you, arm reaching just over your shoulder, as if you weren’t even there “-it can make it even more erotic. Found them.” Yunho winks down at you, pulling a bag of chips off the shelf as if the position hadn’t stopped your heart.  A thin stream of air escapes as you deflate. “We shouldn’t have, regardless. Regardless it was wrong and- Yunho- can you listen to me? What about that…her…that girl I keep seeing you with?”  Passing the chips over the counter and asking for a fresh pack, Yunho shrugs at you. “As replaceable as what’s his nuts- your beau.”  “I thought you were friends!

 Yunho lights his little half-sober ill-advised treat. Even though he’d told everyone who cared that he’d quit, even though he didn’t take breaks at work anymore, even though he knew each consumed cancer stick took from his life, he couldn’t help himself when his judgement was loosened. His nose is red with the cold. Ears too. “Did you want anything?” He mumbles, cigarette tucked between his lips.  You sulk, leaning into the cold cement slab wall. “No.”  He cranes his neck up and to the side, blowing smoke away from you. There’s something alluring about his neck. His jawline is perfect, especially in this strange harsh light.  “I’m cold,” you complain to get him to hurry up. There’s no sign of movement as he takes another slow, steady drag. Yunho unbuttons his peacoat with one hand, tapping inside slightly with one brow raised.  “Cuddle up, buttercup. Or freeze. I’m not moving.” He smirks as you begrudgingly shuffle in front of him, leaning in to fold yourself into his embrace. Cold face pressing to his cozy sweater, a warm sigh reveals your true feelings.  “You’re such a shit.”  “You doth protest too much, methinks.”  Yunho smells like sweet smoke and cedar, cozy and inviting. He’s easy to get sucked into, easy to let yourself relax against. It feels like a home that you’d never left. The world spins when you close your eyes. Maybe you’re more drunk than you give yourself credit for. Maybe you’re just more tired than you realized. Maintaining appearances, spinning the plates just so, making excuses where needed. Slowly without you completely realizing it, your arms snake around his waist. Blame it on muscle memory or maybe you just wanted to warm your hands. All excuses. His back feels strong as ever, long lean muscle from top to bottom. Good for wrapping your legs around.  Yunho crushes his half finished cigarette against the wall. A better treat easily in his grasp. His newly freed hand roams south of your waist, testing to see if you retaliate. Instead he feels your face press harder into him, trying to hide your guilty expression. Suddenly he fully gropes your ass, fingers digging into the flesh through your skirt and stockings, peeling your cheeks apart slightly.  “Yunho!” Your head jerks away to blink up at him.  “Princess,” he responds with a purr.  “Your…whatever she is!”  He leans over and kisses your indignant mouth, half expecting a slap. Instead you seem to yield into it, still holding onto his waist, your hips bumping up against him. “I’m not too worried,” he barely breathes, eyes fluttered shut. He kisses you again just to make sure. Just to test his fate. To be positive you weren’t just stunned.  Yunho’s mouth tastes like the ashes of a burnt marshmallow. Kissing him leaves you thirsty, mouth dry, getting high off the nicotine remnants that cling to his lips. A disappointed moan pulls from your lungs as his lips leave yours. Your weight falling into his chest fully, he takes the opportunity to turn your back into the wall, caging you with his body. Still as hard as he presses to you you pull him in. Breathless and stunned your eyes study his face, both of your mouths panting, sharing clouds of condensation between you.  “I have to pee,” you manage to squeak out as a lame excuse.  “I have the code on my receipt.”  “Code. Right.” You make no move to escape despite your brain practically screaming at you to do something. Anything to make some plausible deniability. You cannot be complicit in this as fully as your heart is. Instinctively you reach into his front pants pocket, fishing for the slip of paper.  Yunho chuckles, loosing a tense exhale into the air. “Careful there princess, a man might get the wrong idea.”  “Shut up and give me the code.”  “Paying customers only,” he winks, hand dipping under your skirt. Your eyes roll back as his fingerings worm their way between your thighs, sliding along your slicked tights. He presses more instantly as you shudder. “Only one of us has paid babe. How bad do you want it?”  Your hips betray you, canting up towards him. “Yunho-,” your voice warbles as you try to sound stern and commanding.  “How badly? Do you? Want? It?”  “Please.”  Yunho smirks, suddenly pushing himself off the wall, pulling his hand from between your legs swiftly. Popping his damp fingers between his lips he tilts his head towards the building. Looking at the ground you scuttle behind him. The kid at the counter barely looks up from his phone as the two of you make your way to the back, down the service hallway lined with overstock, and to the unisex bathroom door. A few swift presses and the door chimes an alert that its successfully unlocked, Yunho ushering you under his arm inside. It’s all so fast you barely notice him slipping in behind you and shutting the door. Every move is so slick, you know he’s done it before.  “Yunho! I really-” your gasp breaks your sentence early, Yunho pulling you to him, pressing his fingers to your pussy once more.  “We both know how dumb of an excuse that was,” he hisses. “I can feel how much you want this, or are you going to lie again?”  “Yunho, we can’t-” “You keep saying we can’t. So tell me no. Tell me stop. Lie and tell me you don’t want to fuck your propper little pussy in this nasty bathroom. Do it and I’ll leave.”  You whimper and grind back against him. You can’t do any of it. You were never good at denying yourself of what you really wanted, even if you knew it was bad for you. Chocolate ice cream during a cold, caffeine past 6pm, stalking his profile on social media, all things you couldn’t help but indulge in. His fingers grip either side of the seam of your tights, ripping them down the middle with such force you topple forward through his arms, bracing yourself on the sink. You can just see your eyes in the lower portion of the dingy mirror, Yunho's full face in view until he leans over you. His long fingers push your panties aside, slicking himself up with your release before sliding two digits between your warm walls. Your breath hitches, leg kicking up as your knees tremble.  “Can’t ever say what you really want can you,” Yunho muses. His lips rest between the shell of your ear and your hairline, speaking with an intense hushed whisper. “Can’t even admit how wet you are for me. Feels good being bad, right?”  “Yunho,” his name is a wet shaky word drizzling out like water from a leaky pipe.  “You can’t even say yes, can you?” His fingers beckon inside you, rubbing along that front wall, stroking that small gummy spot that most hadn’t taken the time to find but he knew so well. “Can you tell me, do his fingers feel as good as mine do? Does he push your buttons like I do?”  “No,” you sob an honest response as Yunho abuses the spot faster, making the knot in your core twist and tighten into a ball of ecstasy. His cock pokes the meat of your ass, a promise of what’s in store for the two of you.  “Does he know how hard you cry when you cum?” You gulp back another heaved half sob half reply. Of course your boyfriend didn’t. Only Yunho could take you apart like this. The sweat slicked porcelain sink slips beneath your grasp. He catches you just barely with his other arm wrapping up over your chest, his fingers resting at the base of your throat.  “You going to cum for me princess?” He taunts you.  You nod, biting your lips shut between your teeth. “Yunho-” his name leaks out of the corners of your mouth.  “Let go, I’ve gotchu,” his hand fully eclipses your mouth, clamping firmly to muffle your wail. Your entire body tenses as you peak, coating his fingers in your essence. His arms hold your stiffened body before you collapse into boneless bliss. “Hold onto the sink, princess. It’ll only be a second.”  You whine as his fingers leave you empty, wobbling like a newborn giraffe. The telltale zip and shuffle is all you need to know of what's going on behind you. The blunt tip of his heavy cock prods your greedy cunt.  “I’d love to savor this moment but if we take too long that kid will get suspicious and come looking.” Your hips rock against him subconsciously.  “You know how much I love taking what isn’t mine.” He barely buries the tip inside of you, relishing in the way your walls attempt to draw him deeper, the way your body trembles on the edge of anticipation. “Just the tip right? If it’s just the tip it doesn’t count. That’s what I’ve heard.”  “Fucking jackass,” you seethe.  “You don’t want to be a cheater, right? You’re a good girl.”  You stomp your heels, you can’t be the one to break. It has to be him. It’s your last vestige of deniability. Your last claim to him being the tempter, the actor, the one in charge and at fault for all of this.  Yunho fucks his tip in and out maddeningly slowly, chuckling as he watches your hole flutter and clench. Teasing as he stretches you around his thick length. “Oh you poor thing, big mean Yuyu dragged you away to get smokes and wouldn’t let you go so you just had to fuck. Right? That’s how this happened, right? You never said yes so really…it was all him. Mean ol’ Yunho. You didn’t want it at all.”  Except you did. You did want it. You wanted him to fuck you so badly the anger was seeping out of your pores. You needed him to push himself as deep as you knew he could go, deeper than your boyfriend ever had. Mold your walls to him again. “Yunho- please-”  “Please what?”  “Yunho! You know I can’t say it! Please!”  His fingers tighten at your hips.  “Please what?” He asks again, cruelly thrusting just a bit deeper, angling just enough to skim your spot.  “Just do it already, just do it. Please, god, fuck, Yunho. Please. I can’t- I can’t-” you repeat until your breath runs out, arm reaching behind for something to pull him closer, fingers waggling as they search for fabric to grab.

 He pulls your hips flush to his suddenly, the glide easy but the stretch sinfully tight. Both of you groan deeply as the wind leaves your lungs by force. Yunho doesn’t waste time, setting a grueling pace as his hips snap against your ass. Rough and claiming as he curls over you. His pants and subvocalizations clear in your ear as you fight to stay standing. Your skirt is more a belt around your waist as he uses the band as leverage to maneuver your hips back against him. His lips settle concerningly close to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his favorite place to nuzzle, and to bite.  “No marks,” you plead. “Yuyu, no marks. I just can’t have any marks.”  “Yeah, got it,” he growls, tilting his head down between your shoulderblades. “Cock’s going to leave an imprint.”  “Fuck, I hope.”  “Going to go home and have him fuck my cum deeper into you? Going to pretend you’re just that wet for him? Bet he wouldn’t know the difference.” His pace slows and stutters, close to his climax. The thought excites him too much, gets him just too close to the edge. Stilling completely his hand finds your clit, tracing quick circles around it, attempting to pull another orgasm from you.  “Shit, Yunho, I can’t- I can’t- I really have to pee- Yunho-” your voice shakes as fear grips your chest.  “It’s fine- you won’t- just let go-” he bounces your hips just slightly, jostling against that spot inside you with his length. Your gut flips and turns, eyes rolling back.  “Yunho-” you whine pitifully once more, trying to warn him.  “Cum for me princess, you know you can, cum on my cock.”  His fingers press against your clit harder as your eyelids flutter, vision going dark as you gush over him. Your walls work him, clamping hard down, trying to pull him deeper. His hips snap, a couple resounding hits before you feel him paint your walls in return. His cock pulses as your cunt milks him. Traitor.

 “Now go fuck that clumsy bastard with your eyes closed and try to pretend he’s me,” Yunho doesn’t mince words as he pulls from you, yanking your skirt over your rear. “Go put together your perfect pollyanna life. I’ll be here. Waiting.”

hopefully that fits the mean yuyu bill!