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natsaffection · 3 days ago

Note

You're last post got me thinking....what would happen if somehow someway another vampire got to Reader and turned her. I know Nat watches her obsessively but like shit happens. Like what would Nats reaction to something like that happening be?

You’re still mine. | N.R

Vampire!older!Natasha x Human!younger!Reader

Warnings: kidnapping and forced turning

Word count: 2,5k

The sound of your ragged breathing filled the dark room, broken only by the rattling of chains and the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps echoing against the cold stone.

Natasha was fighting against the restraints that bound her, the scent of burnt flesh thick in the air as the silver seared her wrists. But she didn’t care. She didn’t feel it.

Because you were in his hands. And she was helpless. He took his time. He savored moments like these..the ones where he got to watch Natasha suffer. And tonight? Tonight, he was going to destroy her.

His lips curled into a smirk as he lowered his head, his breath ghosting along your throat, making you shudder violently in his grasp. “Poor little thing.” he murmured, his fingers tightening around your waist, keeping you pinned against him. “You’re shaking. Tell me, is it fear? Or is it knowing what’s about to happen?”

A sharp sob escaped your lips, your entire body trembling against his hold. Your nails dug into his arms, desperate, panicked, pleading. Natasha snapped against the chains. “Stop!!” she snarled, her voice breaking. “Victor, let her go, she has nothing to do with this!”

Victor hummed, pretending to consider her words, before he let his fangs graze your skin, just enough for you to feel the sharpness. You whimpered, your hands gripping him tighter, your body trying to curl away, trying to disappear.

Natasha lost it. “VICTOR!” she screamed, her body thrashing against the restraints, her face twisting in desperation. “Fuck, please!” The plea left her lips before she could stop it, her voice hoarse with something that was almost a sob.

Victor grinned. “Did you hear that, little one?” he mused, his voice dripping with amusement. “She’s begging. The great Natasha Romanoff is begging for you.” Your breathing hitched, your chest rising and falling too fast, your heartbeat hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird.

You could feel his fangs hovering just above your pulse. You could feel death breathing down your neck. You sobbed, gripping onto Victor even tighter, nails raking against his skin in raw, primal terror.

Natasha’s stomach twisted violently. “Malyshka (Baby), look at me..” she whispered, her voice cracking. You were shaking too much. Your body was too rigid, your fear suffocating you.

Natasha’s heart shattered. “Y/n..” Your wide, terrified eyes met hers. And Natasha, despite everything, forced a soft, broken smile. “Breathe. I’ve got you. Just keep looking at me.”

Your hands trembled violently, your grip on Victor never loosening, not because you wanted to hold him, but because your body was begging for something, anything to cling to.

Natasha felt like she was dying. Victor chuckled, his fangs trailing lightly along your skin, feeling your pulse beneath them.

“She’s holding onto me like I’m the one protecting her.” he mused mockingly, his lips brushing over your throat. Natasha saw red. “You sick son of a bitch-”

��Careful..” Victor murmured, his fingers tilting your head just slightly. “You don’t want me to lose control, do you?” Natasha clenched her teeth, forcing her expression to soften for you, despite the rage burning inside her.

“Moya lyubov (My love)..” she whispered, voice so soft it cracked. “I need you to focus on me. Just me. Not him, not what he’s doing. Just keep your eyes on mine, okay?”

Your gaze locked onto hers like it was the only thing keeping you alive. And maybe it was. “I’m scared..” you whimpered, voice barely audible. Natasha exhaled sharply, her throat burning. “I know. But you’re not alone. I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

Victor let out an exaggerated sigh. “How sweet.” Then, his fangs pressed in. You let out a strangled gasp, your body stiffening as the sharp points broke the skin but didn’t bite. Just enough to make you feel it. Just enough to send your body into a state of pure terror. Your nails sank into his arms, hard enough to break the skin. Natasha sobbed.

“You don’t have to do this..” she whispered, begged. Victor grinned. “Oh, but I do. You’ve kept her human for too long, Natasha. You’ve been selfish. And now? Now, you’ll watch as she becomes one of us.”

“NO-” Then, he bit. Your scream ripped through the room. Natasha howled, her body shaking, her wrists bleeding from how hard she was pulling against the chains.

“Y/N!” Your entire body arched in agony, your pulse slamming against Victor’s lips, your hands clutching onto him like he was your last anchor in a storm.

Natasha’s entire world shattered. Your breathing turned ragged, your limbs trembling violently, your blood pouring into Victor’s mouth. And Natasha felt it.

She felt the moment your heartbeat changed. The moment your body stopped being yours. Her vision blurred, the sound of her own screams echoing around her, her rage, her grief, her entire soul breaking into something unrecognizable.

“No, no, no-” she choked out, shaking her head, her body collapsing under the weight of everything. Victor exhaled sharply, dropping you to the ground, your limp body hitting the cold floor with a soft thud.

Natasha’s arms dropped, the silver finally giving way under her relentless struggle, but she didn’t care. She was already too late.

She crawled toward you, her hands shaking as she reached for your face, cradling you against her. “Open your eyes..” You twitched in her arms. A faint, broken breath left your lips. Your veins darkened.

Natasha choked on a sob, pressing desperate kisses to your forehead, her fingers trembling as they brushed through your hair. “I should have turned you myself..” she whispered, voice barely there.

Victor smiled, satisfied. “And that, Natasha, is exactly why I did it first.” Natasha didn’t even register the moment she killed him. She didn’t feel her hands tear into him, didn’t process the screams, the blood, the vengeance that overtook her.

Because none of it mattered. None of it would ever bring you back. And when your eyes finally opened, something in Natasha died. Because they weren’t yours anymore. They weren’t hers. And that? That was something she would never forgive.

“I’m here, lyubov’. I’m not leaving.”

“I should’ve protected you. I should’ve done more.”

The only sound in the room was the faint, ragged breaths slipping past your lips. You weren’t asleep. You weren’t awake. You were something else—something caught between death and rebirth, trapped in the hunger of your new existence.

And Natasha hated it. She had never wanted this for you. Never wanted you to be like her. She had spent years protecting you from this curse, from this hunger, from the eternal darkness that had consumed her soul.

But Victor had taken that choice from you. And now, she was left with the aftermath. Her hands clenched into fists, her rage simmering beneath the surface like an inferno ready to consume. Victor was dead, but that wasn’t enough.

Because his actions still lived on. Inside you. A sharp inhale pulled Natasha from her thoughts. She froze, her grip tightening around you as your body stirred for the first time since your turning.

You twitched, your breathing shallow, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. Natasha’s heart clenched. “I’m here-” Then, your eyes snapped open.And Natasha stilled. It wasn’t you. Not really.

Your irises were still the color she had memorized, but now? Now, they were darker. Your pupils were too wide, your gaze too sharp, your body too tense as your senses flooded with the overwhelming hunger.

Natasha knew the signs. You were starving. And you had never felt anything like it before. Your hands shot out, clutching at your chest, at your throat, at anything to make the burning stop. “N-Natasha-” your voice cracked, raw, breathless, desperate. “I’m here, just breathe-”

“It hurts!” You gasped, curling in on yourself, your hands trembling violently. The hunger clawed at your insides, tearing through you like fire, like nothing you had ever known.

“Make it stop!” you sobbed, your fingers digging into your own skin. Natasha grabbed your wrists before you could scratch yourself raw. “Shh, shh, I’ve got you, I know, I know it hurts-”

Your breath came in sharp gasps, your entire body shaking as you clung to her like a lifeline. “What’s happening to me?” Natasha swallowed thickly. She didn’t want to tell you. She didn’t want you to know.

But the truth was already there, settling in your bones, seeping into your mind like a toxin. You weren’t human anymore. And Natasha could see it in your eyes..the growing fear, the way your body recognized its own monstrosity.

“I don’t-” Your voice broke. “I don’t feel like myself.” Natasha’s fingers curled under your chin, tilting your head up, forcing your gaze onto hers. “You are still you.” she whispered, her voice thick with something desperate, something aching.

Your lips trembled. “Then why do I feel like I’m dying?” Natasha inhaled sharply, her grip tightening. Because in a way, you had.

And the thing left behind was no longer the same. A quiet, broken sob slipped past your lips as you buried your face against her shoulder. “I don’t want to be this!” you whispered, pleaded. “I don’t want to be a..monster..”

Natasha’s arms wrapped around you so tight she thought she might break you all over again. “You’re not a monster.” she said, but even she wasn’t sure if it was true.

“You’re still mine.” You sniffled, your fingers clutching at her clothes like she was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. I’m scared..” Natasha shut her eyes, pressing her forehead to yours. “I know..” she whispered. “But I won’t let this break you.”

She exhaled sharply, her thumb grazing over your lips, her gaze flickering to the sharp tips of your fangs now fully bared. “I won’t let you go hungry either.”

Your body stiffened. Fuck, the hunger roared inside you. Natasha felt the shift before you did—the way your pupils dilated, the way your lips parted slightly, the way your entire posture changed as the need for blood overtook everything else.

You needed to feed. And Natasha was the only one you trusted to give it to you. She inhaled deeply, her hands sliding to the back of your neck, holding you steady.

“Drink from me.”

You froze. Your body trembled against hers, the sharp inhale of breath making Natasha’s stomach twist. Because she could feel your hunger. It was clawing at you, screaming at you to take what you needed. And Natasha Natasha wanted you to.

She needed to be the first blood you ever tasted. She needed to be the one to give you this..to guide you, to make sure you never craved anyone else the way you craved her. “I don’t-I don’t want to hurt you-”

“You won’t.” Her fingers tilted your chin, her lips ghosting over yours before she turned her head, exposing her throat to you in a silent offering.

“Take it.” she whispered. “Make yourself mine all over again.” Your body shuddered. Your lips brushed against her pulse. And then..Then you bit and Natasha sighed in relief. Because even if Victor had stolen your humanity-

Natasha’s entire body lurched forward as she gasped for air that she didn’t need. Her hands clenched the sheets beneath her, gripping them so tightly her nails nearly tore through the fabric. Her entire being felt like it had been ripped apart, like she had died a thousand times over in a single breath.

Her lungs burned, even though she knew they didn’t need to. Her mind spun violently, disoriented, lost. The scent of blood still clung to her senses, the echoes of your scream still piercing through her skull.

Her heart pounded in a way it never did anymore. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. She didn’t recognize the dim glow of the bedroom, the soft sheets beneath her body, the familiar warmth beside her. Everything still felt wrong, like she was still trapped in that dark, suffocating nightmare.

Victor’s laugh still rang in her ears. She could still see your body, the way you clung to him in fear, the way your eyes begged her to stop what was happening. She could still feel the moment your heartbeat faded into nothing, the way your body stilled in her arms, the moment you were no longer you.

And then she saw you. Her stomach twisted violently. You were beside her, curled up in the sheets, your breathing slow and steady, your body warm and untouched. Your face was soft in the dim light, your lips slightly parted in deep sleep, your hair falling messily over the pillow.

She turned, her movements frantic, her mind still too lost in the nightmare to believe she was free of it. You were here. You were alive. You were still hers. A choked breath left Natasha’s lips. Her fingers twitched, hesitating before she reached out, afraid, so afraid that if she touched you, you would disappear. That this was just another illusion, another cruel trick of the mind.

But then her fingers brushed against your skin. Warm. Soft. Real. Her breath shuddered, her chest tightening with something so raw, so unbearable that she thought she might collapse under it. Her other hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your skin, just to make sure.

She had never felt relief like this before. Her hands trembled as she traced the line of your jaw, her touch featherlight, careful,desperate. Her mind was still spinning, still caught somewhere between the nightmare and reality.

Her instincts screamed at her to hold you tighter, to never let go again, to make sure no one could ever take you from her. “I almost lost you..” she whispered, though you couldn’t hear her. Her voice was raw, barely there, but even in the silence, it was painful.

Her fingers moved to your wrist, pressing against your pulse point, needing, needing to feel it. The steady, rhythmic beat under her fingertips made something deep inside her crack wide open. She needed you. Her body moved before she could think, shifting closer, curling herself around you. She buried her face in your hair, inhaling deeply, letting your scent calm the raging storm in her mind.

But it wasn’t enough. She pressed herself closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, her fingers slipping beneath your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. The contact sent a shiver through her, grounding her, reminding her that this was real. That you were real. Natasha swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut as she held on.

She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, wrapped around you, her grip almost too tight, like she was afraid you would slip away if she loosened it even a fraction. She didn’t know how to stop feeling like she was still losing you.

“I won’t let anyone take you from me.” she murmured into your skin, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of something unbreakable. She pressed a kiss to your shoulder, her lips lingering, her breathing unsteady.

A/N: Under no circumstances will I let anyone else turn Y/n. 🙂‍↔️

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov x reader #dom!natasha x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov

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honeyhotteoks · 2 days ago

Text

across stardust - three (j.yh)

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate. one | two (section 1); (section two) | three | four | five 🔗read on ao3 ✨across stardust pinterest board

note: thank you for all the warm notes on part two!! part three is fluffy, smutty, angsty, and full of plot so please enjoy. parts four and five are in the works, but tbd on post date.

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, suggestive language, anxiety, nightmare, almost panic attack/talk of panic attack, frank conversations around sexual history / bad sexual relationships that could be triggering for some readers, oral m receiving, extremely descriptive blowjob / throat fucking, messy/desperate sex, emotional sex, creampie, rough sex, fights/arguments and heavy language

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 12.6k

It’s still dark when you wake up on the third day, the sky still inky black, but when you open your eyes you’re pushed right into consciousness like it’s time to get up and get your day started. When you shift your hand back to find him, the bed is cold. You take a breath and listen to your apartment, but everything is painfully silent.

A sharp spike of alarm courses through your chest at the thought that Yunho might not be here, but the panic only lasts for a moment.

“I’m downstairs,” Yunho calls softly, “don’t worry,”

You drop back in the bedding with a sigh of relief, but when you catch sight of the clock reading three in the morning you can’t help but worry about him.

“Baby,” You say as you roll to the edge of the bed, “What are you doing up?”

He sighs, “I can’t sleep,”

“I got that,” You tie your robe around your body and head toward the stairs, “is something wrong? You’re just sitting down here in the dark,”

He doesn’t have his phone in hand and the lights are still low, and he scrubs a hand over his eyes before looking up at you as you descend the stairs, “Just thinking,”

“About?” You step closer, trying to see his face in the dark, the room only partially illuminated by city lights.

He reaches for you and you take his hand, letting him pull you in close to stand between his open legs. With another heavy sigh, Yunho wraps his arms around you and lets his forehead drop into your stomach.

You squeak at the sudden way he gathers you up, but once you’re steady on your feet you soften, and let your hands drop, one on his shoulder and the other threading into his hair. You card your fingers through his locks slowly and search yourself for the thread of his feelings, but all you can pick up on is anxiety. “Hey,” You murmur, “what’s wrong?”

His fingers tighten on the silk of your robe, “I don’t want to leave,” he confesses quietly.

“Oh, Yunho,”

He’s quiet, too quiet, and a second stretches into a minute while he holds you, but you feel the rising tension in him almost like it’s in the air around you.

“How do we do this?” He finally says, his face still buried in your abdomen, “How do we have both? I feel like I’m abandoning you if I leave, I feel like, it feels like,”

You feel the tide of panic and you hush him softly, “Baby, breathe,”

He grips your hips, his forehead digging into your stomach, “I had a t-terrible dream,”

“Shh,” You rub a hand up and down his back, holding him close to you, “it was just a dream,”

“I don’t,” He swallows, shaking his head, “what if it wasn’t, what if,”

“Breathe,”

“They took you away,” He drags in a harsh breath, “they took you and I couldn’t find you, and everyone was watching but no one was fucking doing anything, and I couldn’t feel you anymore, and,”

You catch the shadow of an image in his mind, a silent stadium full of onlookers while he ran row to row searching for you, his throat hoarse from screaming, every expression blank and disinterested around him.

You shiver, tightening your hold on him as he sucks in another sharp breath.

He’s one wrong thought away from a panic attack, and you tuck your fingers under his chin to drag his head up, “Yun, Yunho, look at me,”

His breath is fast, dysregulated, his expression stressed in a way you’ve never seen, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

“Shh,” You cup his cheeks, soothing him as best you can, “I’m right here, no one did anything to me,”

“It felt so real,”

“It wasn’t,”

“But it could be,” His chest aches, “I can’t lose you like that, they can’t take you away like that,”

“Baby, who’s they?” You murmur, your thumb stroking a line over his jaw.

“I don’t know,” He says in a rush, “but you were at the dorms with me and we were asleep and they pulled you out of bed, they took you, and you were gone before I… I couldn’t even see where they,”

His panic tightens again and you shake your head, “No, no, no,” you murmur, “look at me, take a deep breath.”

He drags in a ragged breath along with you and you pause before slowly letting the air out.

“I am right here,” You run your hands down his arms to get him to hold you closer, “it was just a bad dream.”

“But,” He manages, and then lets out another shaky breath, his eyes dropping away from your face.

”No,” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and card your fingers through his hair, “don’t let those thoughts in,”

He holds steady, his chest tight but starting to loosen with every slow breath. You model it for him, bringing him along with you into the breathing exercise, and then finally he nods just a little, “I’ve never felt like this,”

“Tell me,” You murmur, softly stroking his shaggy hair at the base of his neck.

He swallows, his throat bobbing, and then a confession, “I’m terrified,” he says hoarsely, “I love you more than I ever,”

His words die on his lips and you murmur your reply softly, “I love you too,”

With a breath he continues, the words spilling out now, “And I’m just supposed to put it away?” His hands tighten on you, “I’m supposed to pretend you’re just someone? And not be with you when you need me, not be,” he shakes his head, “how is any of that fair to you, or what you deserve?”

“Yunho,” You say softly.

“I shouldn’t even,” He looks down, shaking his head in what you can only read as disappointment in himself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

You can feel him boxing it up, shoving his emotions and his panic down, putting on a brave face you never asked for.

“Hey,” You say, a little more sharply than you intended and his head snaps up, “don’t do that with me, don’t pretend.”

He sighs, “it’s just,” he tries, and you can see the exhaustion in his face, “I told you I would figure it out, I promised you,”

Whatever arcane concept of masculinity has him trying to shield his stress from you ends tonight, and you shake your head to get him to stop going down this path.

“Alright,” You say when he falls silent, your hands on his cheeks to keep his eyes on you, “let’s play worst case scenario,”

His brows draw together, “What?”

“Hana and I played it all the time when things got bad,” You tell him, “you tell me the worst case scenario for the thing you’re anxious about,”

“This is a game?”

”Just trust me,”

He sighs and squeezes your hips before letting his hands fall slack to his own thighs, “Um,” he says, “okay, worst case scenario,”

“Do your worst, really,” You nudge him.

He shoots you a mildly amused expression and then rubs a hand over his face, reality sinking back into him, “Worst case?” He starts off, “We get found out, you get fired, I get fired, I owe thousands of dollars back to the company, the public hates us, and we’re both unemployable pariahs who’s friends don’t even speak to us anymore because they’re all in the industry.”

“Jesus,” You laugh sharply at the intensity, the near absurdity of having this conversation with him at all, but then you recover.

“Is that supposed to help?”

“Shush,” You lay your fingers gently over his lips to keep him quiet, “now listen to me,”

He nods and you let your hand fall away.

“If I get fired and you get fired and you owe all that money back,” You start with the first thing, “we will still have each other. Our families love us, I have this apartment and I have some money saved, and we won’t be unemployable because I have skills and so do you. I’ll do makeup for dramas or photoshoots or make YouTube videos for all I care, KQ is not the end of the line for me and my work. And you have your dancing, your vocals. If you weren’t an idol, what would you do?”

“Teach, maybe,” He says quickly, “I’ve thought about that, if things don’t work after year seven,”

“So not unemployable pariahs, just different jobs,” You point out.

He stays quiet at that, mulling over your words.

”And our friends would not do that,” You add, “they love us. Do you think they’re that shallow?”

He sighs, “No, but,”

“No,” You shake your head, “your worst case scenario sucks, it would be really, really hard, but it wouldn't kill us. It wouldn’t break us up.”

Yunho nods, “I know, but is it really so bad that I don’t want that for us? That I’m scared I’ll fail at this and you,”

“Hey,” You draw his arms back up to touch you, wrapping yours around his shoulders, “baby, this is not on your shoulders alone, it is not your job to figure out our relationship.”

”If I wasn’t an idol,” He starts.

“You are an idol,” You shake your head, “but if you weren’t an idol we might have never met. Don’t play what ifs like that,”

“y/n,” Yunho sighs.

“Yunho,” You counter, emphasizing his name and trying to get him to snap out of this spiral, “when I said I knew what being with you meant, I meant all of it. I’m under no illusions that this will be normal or easy, and I’m ready to face that for a chance that we could be happy.”

“Of course we’ll be happy,” He softens.

“Hold onto that, then,” You stroke his cheek, “and when you forget it or when you have a bad dream, I’ll remind you of it.”

“We’ll be okay,” He murmurs.

You nod, “We will,”

He sighs, dropping his forehead against your stomach again and you feel the tension physically drop in his shoulders, “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“I’m here,” You remind him again, gently running your fingers through his hair. For a moment you wonder if he ever lets anyone see this part of him, the anxiety and the worry and the strain. Yunho is always so calm, positive, and easy-going that you imagine it’s easy for people to gloss over what he must be feeling most of the time.

He nods against you but stays quiet.

“I don’t want you to go either,” You murmur, “but we are going to stick to the plan, and someday this will just be a thing that we had to do,”

He nods, letting out a slow exhale.

The plan was simple, and worked out between frantic moments of need in every corner of your apartment. For a little while, you’d both keep this to yourselves and play as coworkers, in the fall once contracts were closer to the final year, you’d tell the members together and Yunho would ask for an early renegotiation and for all of the members to stand beside him. After pulling the problem apart from every angle, it’s the only way that makes sense.

“It does suck though,” You add, “we don’t have to pretend it doesn’t,”

He laughs, a hot breath of air against you, before he looks up, “It sucks.” He says definitively.

“How long do we have left?” You glance at the clock in your kitchen.

He follows your eyes, looking around your hip, “A few more hours,”

Your hands tense on his shoulders.

Yunho nods, “I know,”

You don’t want to make him feel worse so you bite your tongue from saying anything else.

Yunho sits up a little, his hands now sliding to anchor on your hips, and his eyes flick from your eyes down your body. Your robe has parted open a little, just revealing a deeper V of flesh in the valley between your breasts and you feel the first strings of arousal through the bond.

He squeezes your hips, and then he leans forwards to connect his lips to your soulmark.

You hum softly, holding him close, “I love you,” you murmur.

You feel a tug on your robe, and suddenly he’s kissing you with more fervor, his lips traveling down to your belly as your robe parts open, his hands palming the bare flesh of your ass now that your body is exposed to him again.

He needs you, and you need him, but you can still feel somewhere in his body that taut line of stress and you gently push him back, “Come here,”

“Hmm?” He lets you push him away, but when you close your robe his brow furrows.

“Take your sweats off,” You tug at the fabric, and he lifts his hips to push them off immediately, “now just relax,”

He smiles, “What are you doing?”

He’s reclined on your sofa in nothing but his boxer briefs, and your body thrums with want.

“You’ve been taking care of me for days,” You drop down to your knees and settle yourself between his widely set thighs, “and you’re stressed, it’s my turn to return that favor,”

You drag your hands up and down his thighs, fingertips ghosting along the seam of his boxers, and you watch his eyes go dark and hungry.

Slowly, you tease him, gentle touches along every bit of his exposed skin until he’s sucking in little pleasured breaths and twitching under your hands, his cock rock hard and straining against his underwear.

As you toy with the elastic waistband though, his large hand closes over yours, “W-wait, one second.”

You know what you’ll see when you look up, concern, curiosity, maybe even pity over the thing you alluded to on your first night and never brought up again.

When you finally do meet his eyes though, it’s different.

He’s looking at you with tenderness, and he cups your cheek as you look up.

”You want to know?” You ask softly, dropping back to your heels and letting your hands fall away from his thighs.

“Only if you want me to know,” He offers, sweeping a thumb over your cheekbone before dropping his hands away, “but,”

The clear implication that could be read even without the bond is that he doesn’t feel like you can cross this line together without knowing.

”I can tell you,” You say, “it’s not bad, I just didn’t want to bring up an ex on our first night together.”

He nods, “Okay,”

“I had a boyfriend in school,” You tell him, ignoring the tense little bubble in your gut at just the thought of him, “we dated for a while, he was fine, but we were both young and I didn’t have much experience with sex,”

Yunho’s jaw tenses lightly, “Did he?”

“A little,” You explain, “he had dated two girls before me, but we were both pretty young and stupid,”

“Okay,” He manages, and you can tell that he’s bracing himself for whatever you have to tell him, but he reaches out a hand for you to take.

You take it immediately, slotting your fingers together, and he gives you a small squeeze before you continue, “It was mostly fine, just kids having bad sex and pretending it was great,” you laugh, trying to lighten the tension but he doesn’t join you.

“Baby,” He sits up a little, “what happened?”

“Nothing,” You tell him, and that’s the truth. There’s no one moment, no axe of trauma to bring down and confess, it’s just a collection of things, disparate moments, and it’s almost always impossible to articulate why it’s affected you like this for all these years.

His brows furrow lightly as he tries to make out your words and your feelings, and he opens his mouth to say more but you get there first.

”He was rough,” You finally sigh, “I think part of it was that’s what he thought sex was supposed to be like, and I didn’t know any better, so I just did my best to make him happy,”

His free hand curls into a loose fist, but he nods for you to continue.

“It was fine,” You assure him, try to explain, “he didn’t do anything wrong, I just didn’t know how to speak up for myself then, and just kind of went along,”

“And oral?” He asks it plainly, almost medically.

A flicker of your ex’s hand on the back of your neck flashes in your mind and you roll your shoulders, shifting your gaze, filing the thought back where it belongs in the deep recesses of your memory.

Yunho waits for your answer, but watches every movement.

”That I think he actually liked rough,” You finally admit, your eyes studying the edge of your couch cushion, “and I didn’t like that. It, that was, it only happened a few times, but yeah,”

His thumb presses circles into your palm, and then he quietly speaks, “How old were you?”

“Sixteen, seventeen,”

“How old was he?”

“The same age,” You look up to him, “it wasn’t like that.”

He swallows tightly and nods, “Did you tell him to stop or that you didn’t want,”

“No,” You take your hand out of his and rest your hands on his thighs, “Yunho, we were kids. We weren’t communicating at all, we were pretending we were adults and the only thing either one of us knew about sex was from porn. I thought I was supposed to like it, so I just let it happen. Was he kind of an asshole? Sure, but I’m fine, and it’s not like I said anything at the time,”

His jaw ticks again, and then he slides his hands overtop of yours, “Maybe not,” he says softly, “but you shouldn't have had to. Guys aren’t idiots, we can tell when someone isn’t comfortable with something,”

“I know,”

“I can tell this is more than just something you don’t like,” His hands slide up your arms, “he really scared you,”

You remember it all too well. The feeling of tears on your cheeks, the ache in your jaw, his hands in your hair, and the way you could only get tiny breaths in through your nose. Your throat had felt bruised for days after the last time you let him touch you.

“Yeah,” Is all you can give him.

”Fuck,” He breathes, and you wonder if he felt any of that, if he can sense through the bond more than what you’ve said out loud, “I hate this guy,”

“Yeah,” You smile, finally meeting his eyes, “I know, you and Hana can join forces and hate him together,”

He smiles, but it’s close lipped and doesn’t reach his eyes, “Was he your first?”

Your nose crinkles, “Unfortunately,”

“I hate him,” His hands tense on your upper arms.

“I know,” You sigh, “but yeah, it’s just one of those things.”

He just looks at you, no answer for that.

”Everything has been perfect with us,” You continue, “and what I said the other night is true, I don’t do anything I don’t like anymore. I figured that out, but that’s the one thing, I just don’t like it and it does make me uncomfortable. If you don’t pull my hair during or get aggressive with it, I’m totally fine it’s just,”

“Hold on,” He shifts on the couch, sliding forwards and letting his legs widen to make more space for you so he can pull you in, “now you take a breath.”

Your mouth falls shut.

“I wish you told me this before,” He says, cupping your cheek.

”Yunho,” You shake your head.

“No, it’s okay,” He keeps going, “but I just want you to know that you and me, everything we do together, there is never, ever something I want you to just put up with because you think I need it or like it.”

“I know that,”

“Still,” He presses, “and I know you were both young, but baby, that's not a good enough excuse for me.”

You take in a breath, ready to protest, but he’s not done.

“We will never do something together without talking about it,” He continues, “especially something like that,”

He’s so convicted, so serious, you can feel it through the bond and it makes your chest warm, even though he’s not letting you get a word in.

“You should have had a way to say stop,” His eyes soften, “I hate that you had to feel that way, he should have,”

“Yunho,” You reach up, taking his hands from your cheeks and holding them in yours, “I love you, and I love that you care for me like this, but I need you to hear something.”

His brow furrows, but he waits.

“It sucked,” You hold his gaze, “and it freaked me out, but it was not what you’re implying. I am not scared to give you a blowjob, and you do not need to treat me like glass because I had a shitty ex-boyfriend. I’ve already figured out my own limits, and you don’t need to protect me from something I’ve already handled,”

His eyes drop and he swallows tightly.

“I love you,” You remind him, “and I told you so that you’d hear my limits and understand them, but I already trust you to respect them.”

He exhales, a slow breath between his teeth and he nods, “You’re right, I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” You smile.

He looks up and leans forward to press a kiss to your lips, and then another for good measure, “Alright,” he says, shaking off his protective instincts, “tell me your limits again, let me listen.”

You kiss him back, giving his fingers a squeeze, “Okay,” you nod, “don’t pull my hair during, other times it’s fine,”

“Outside of a blowjob?” He clarifies, his thumb passing over your lower lip once before he pulls his eyes up to yours and smiles softly.

“Yeah,” You nod, “that’s fine, I just don’t like feeling stuck, like I can't take a breath if I want to,”

“Hands off,” He says, “got it.”

“Well, I mean,” You start, but he interrupts.

“Don’t worry about me,” He reminds you, “your mouth alone anywhere near my dick is going to kill me,”

You huff a quick laugh and nod, “Then yeah, hands off,”

“What else?”

“We can work up to it, you actually fucking my mouth, but not yet,” You tell him, “I’m not ready to do that with you yet.”

“Okay,” He smiles, “if that ever changes just tell me, but for now you’re in control.”

“Also,” You blush a little, “I don’t think this will be a problem, but uh, no mean names or anything like that,”

“Not my style,” He says, cupping your cheek and leaning forwards, “and I know you’re fine, and I know you don’t need me to, but I would seriously like to hit this asshole in the mouth,”

You smile, leaning into his arms, “Fair enough,”

“Come here,” He wraps his arms around you, kissing you softly, “thank you for telling me,”

You nod into his kiss, your hands slipping back down to his thighs, “Now, let me take care of you,”

He hesitates for just a second, but then he nods and pecks your lips. Leaning back, Yunho shows you his hands, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and then he tucks them both behind his lower back and settles into the couch, his thighs spreading wider as he settles into a comfortable position.

Your stomach flips pleasantly, heat pooling in your gut.

Your fingers return to the elastic waistband of his underwear and you watch his abdominal muscles pulse as he tries to hold himself still.

”You sure this is okay?” He checks one last time.

You smile up at him and nod, “It’s more than okay, I like it, so just relax.”

He swallows, a nervous breath slipping out of him.

Slowly, your hands return to his underwear.

“God,” He sighs as you pull the front of his boxers down, letting his cock spring up between you, “you’re so pretty,”

You smile a little, enjoying the relaxed neediness in his voice, and you rest back on your heels to look up at him, “Yeah?”

His lips quirk, “Tease,”

”You like it,” You kiss his thigh, and then drag your nails along his stomach gently.

Yunho groans, his cock stiffening even more.

”Should I stop?” You tease him again.

“A-absolutely not,” He breathes.

You smile against his skin, and hook your fingers in the elastic of his boxers to drag them down and off his legs entirely, shifting until they’re tossed to the side. You sidle up between his legs again, and take a second to admire the picture that is Jeong Yunho stripped bare on your couch. His skin is deliciously smooth, and all but glowing in the moonlight, muscles taut and his legs long, thighs thick, his cock solid and heavy, drawing you in like a magnet.

“Cute,” He murmurs at your thirsty expression, but despite the hungry look in his own eyes, he keeps his hands tucked behind his back just like he showed you.

You ignore his words, and drop your lips back down to his body. You pepper teasing kisses over his thighs, his hips, your hands exploring the plane of his abdomen, the very top of his pubic bone, exploratory touches, soft pleasure, but never landing on his cock. It twitches between you, but you ignore it, kissing the inner crease of his hip and the dusting of dark, coarse hair there, cropped short and tidy. You can just barely feel the start of a trail of hair from his pubic bone to his navel, likely waxed away before the tour but just starting to come in again like a five o’clock shadow.

He twitches, tiny breaths, gasps, mumbled curses, and you hum pleasantly against his skin at every one.

When you can feel his resolve starting to crumble, and see a thick pearl of precum starting to bead up on the tip of his cock, and you know he’s ready for more.

On one of your next kisses, you let your mouth linger a little longer, dragging your lips across his skin until you’re nestled at the base of his cock, your hand sliding up from his inner thigh to cup his tight balls.

He shudders, a groan on his lips, “F-fuck, sweetheart,”

“Mm,” You finally let your tongue peek out, dragging a wet line from base to tip, “feel good?”

“So good,” He nods.

When you look up to him and take in his expression your cunt pulses, his eyes are dark and starving, his plush lips parted in needy awe, and his chest is already flushed red, sweat snaking down the contours of his chest.

You can’t make him wait a second more.

You wet your lips, letting saliva pool on your tongue, and then you adjust your position on your knees and finally take him in your mouth properly.

The sound he makes is one of pure pleasure, his body twitching beneath you, and you hear his hands tighten in the couch cushions behind him.

He is big though, you weren’t lying when you told him he was the biggest cock you’d ever taken and that no doubt includes your mouth. Your lips are stretched wide, jaw open and nearly straining, clicking as you get it comfortably open for him enough to start to dip your head down.

You focus first on the head, letting your hand wrap around the shaft that you haven’t figured out if you’ll be able to take, your tongue swirling over the velvety skin and lapping up the salty sweet taste of him.

“y/n,” He moans properly, “oh my god,”

You hum, a gentle laugh that leaves him jerking, and then you sink a little lower, your hand starting to pump slowly in time with the movements of your head.

”Oh, that’s it,” Yunho breathes, “oh fuck,”

You shiver involuntarily at his praise.

Yunho sucks in a breath, “C-can I talk to you? Is that okay?”

Your chest warms and you pull off just long enough to give him a reply, “Yes, please, yes,”

He groans as you return to his cock, lavishing as much attention on the parts you can fit in your mouth as you can. Yunho makes a pleasured noise as your tongue flicks over the seam where his shaft meets the rounded mushroom tip of his cockhead and he sighs, “Sweetheart, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

You hum, a gentle reply as you work him over.

”There you go,” His voice is tight, like he’s talking through gritted teeth, “oh, fuck, that’s my perfect girl,”

You hum again, the praise running right through your body.

“Yeah,” He sighs, adjusting his thighs a little wider, “does my cock on your tongue make you wet, babygirl?”

Your fingers tighten on his thigh.

“Fuck, it does, doesn’t it?” He groans, “Insatiable,”

You suck in a sharp breath through your nose, dripping your mouth a little lower this time.

“Three times last night wasn’t enough?” He teases you, warmth dripping from his voice, “You need more?”

You nod, but don’t lose attention on his cock gliding back and forth over your tongue.

“Good girl,” He shudders, “fuck,”

You lift away to take a fast breath and dive back in, keeping your ministrations steady with your hand.

He jerks and makes a tight sound, but then he sighs, “Look at me, baby,” he manages, “let me see that pretty fucking face,”

Your nipples tighten, belly stumbling in warm fits and starts, and you slide back on your heels and let his cock slip free of your mouth as you look up at him.

You can feel the urge in him to touch you, smooth your hair, touch your cheeks, have his hands on you in any way, but he holds himself still and locks his eyes on yours.

“Gorgeous,” He sighs, “fuck if you could see yourself,”

Warmth pools in your cheeks and you smile, letting his cock rest against your lips. Gently you press a kiss there, catching your breath in the brief pause.

“Fuck,” He grits out, “is it bad if I tell you I want to come all over that face? Those fucking lips,”

You sigh against him, shaking your head, “I like it,”

His eyes roll, hips twitching, “Of course you do,”

The moment his eyes leave you, you slide yourself back up, hot tongue dragging up and over and down until you’re taking more of him in your mouth than before.

A tiny thread of anxiety pulls in your chest, but it relaxes within seconds. His hands haven’t moved, he’s fought every impulse of his hips, and all you feel through the bond is overwhelming pleasure, need, and pride. You’ve never, never felt safer.

You sink down further now, letting him slide back deep down until you feel the head of his cock pressing into the spongy part of your throat, your lips nearly to the base of him and pressed to his pubic bone.

“S-shit, fuck,” His thighs twitch, but still he holds himself in place.

You bob your head back up, teasing his shaft with the hard press of your tongue before sinking down again.

“Ah, ah, mm,” You’ve never heard him sound like that, almost a whine. His teasing dominance falling to the wayside the moment you let yourself go to fully worship his cock.

Your hands tighten on his thighs and you repeat the motion, faster this time and sinking down far enough to take him all the way down your throat to the hilt.

He whines again, but your throat tickles and you choke a little before lifting higher up, adjusting your position and managing your gag reflex.

“You okay?” He’s breathless, “Hey, hey,”

You lift free and glance up at him, “I’m fine, relax,”

“God,” He shivers, “this is so good, but you don’t have to take it all the way if,”

“Baby, shut up,” You sink your mouth back down on his cock, sliding your lips and tongue down until he’s buried to the hilt again.

“Jesus f-fuck,” He moans, and when you glance up you can see his head has fallen back to the couch cushions.

The urge to cough is there again, your jaw aching, but you tuck your thumb into your palm and squeeze it tight on the off chance that the old wives tale has any merit, and you center yourself.

“Ah, mm, mm,” He’s fully trembling, at your mercy in a way that you know is raw and different for him, “sweetheart, oh, oh god,”

You can do this, you want to do this. Especially if it means he’ll make that sound again.

With another steady breath through your nose, you draw up and down and find a rhythm, working him faster until you’re bobbing your head and fighting through the little chokes, not because you have to but because you want to. You draw measured breaths of air in and out of your nose so you don’t lift your mouth away, and you let yourself go.

He’s tense beneath you, slick and shaking, the taste of him salty and sharp but not in a way you want to pull away from at all. It’s messy, noisy, and wet in all the right ways, and you feel his pleasure start to gather and build in his gut. Your hands slide over him, one to brace yourself on his tense stomach, and the other reaching under to cup his balls again, firm and hot in your palm.

”Fuck, fuck,” Yunho’s hips pull back at that, arching away from your mouth, “jagi, stop,”

You whine a little, you knew you had him close, but you pull your mouth away and take a sharp suck of air, “W-why’d you stop me?” You ask, breathless.

“Need to be inside you,” He pants, freeing his hands from behind his back and reaching for you, “right now,”

He hooks his hands under your arms and pulls you up off the floor, crashing his mouth onto yours. You slide up his body, hastily opening your legs to straddle him as his hands move again, one locking onto your hip to steady you and the other frantically pushing your robe back open. You moan as he slides two fingers through your slit to check your wetness, groaning pleasantly when he feels you slick and ready for him.

“Fuck,” He tugs you closer and you shuffle up his thighs as he directs his wet cock to your aching entrance, “sweetheart,”

”Please,” You beg, head fuzzy already at the catch of his cockhead on your clit.

He directs your hips, and then in one desperate motion he jerks his hips up and drags your body down to sink himself all the way, nestled deeply inside you.

The sudden stretch and sensation is sharp and hot and you moan, gripping down on his shoulders and shuddering above him.

“I-I’m sorry,” He babbles, kissing across your face, “need you,”

Your mouths find each other again, heat pulsing between you in the dark of your apartment and slowly you start to rock together. Following sensation only, instinct, need, all the ways you want to comfort each other, pleasure each other. He’s fucked you countless times this weekend, but this is making love, heady and dizzy like the first time your bodies coupled close.

You grind against him, Yunho’s kisses traveling down your neck, your collarbones, pleasure rolling through you in a foggy thrill.

“Feel so good,” You breathe, holding him close, “need you inside me all the time, fuck,”

He groans, his mouth peppering hot kisses over your breasts, tongue teasing one nipple while his fingers tease the other, “That’s my girl,”

“Mm, yes,” You sigh, rocking in the perfect rhythm.

“Beautiful,” He pushes your robe open more, hands caressing you, until the fabric droops off your shoulders and leaves you naked to his hungry eyes, “my beautiful girl,”

“Yunho,” You gasp sharply at the tweak of your nipple, at the praise, at his cock filling your channel.

“Ride me like that,” He nods, eyes blown wide, “don’t stop, want you to come,”

“K-kiss me,” You beg him with a pant, sensation blooming through your body.

He drags you closer, locking your lips together, and you moan into his mouth. He nods, humming his approval for your desperate sounds, and you roll your body against him harder, heat spreading through your chest as you get closer and closer to the edge. Tangled up like this, without all that much room to move, you both just jerk and roll your hips, spurned on by the desperate need to feel each other falling apart one more time.

”There,” Yunho groans when he feels you getting close through the bond, one hand locking onto your ass to help steady your rutting movements, “right there, sweetheart,”

“O-oh,” Your eyes shut tightly as a wave flows through you, pleasure a tight bubbling sensation in your gut, “Yunho, baby, oh,”

“Come for me, jagi,” His voice is low, husky, his fingers gripping you tightly, “feel me inside you, come around my cock,”

A shudder lances through you, and you fall apart in his arms, a mess of words babbled through your lips you can’t even hear. The thought of him inside you a singular, starving thought. He’s leaving, in a few yours you’ll be on this couch alone, and in a choked breath you beg him for more. You want the ache in your hips, the wet feeling of his release, bloomed bruises and a mouth kissed raw, you want to know not a second of this was a dream.

Yunho wraps you up, his kiss hotter, needier as he pulls you back from the spiral of your thoughts, “Tell me you love me,”

“I l-love you,” You whine against his cheek, your orgasm flooding through you.

“Tell me you’re mine,”

“All yours,”

His hips roll as he holds you steady above him, fucking you slow and deep, “I can feel you,” a wave of pleasure and emotion washes through you from his side of the bond, “like you’re buried in my chest,”

You nod, holding onto him for dear life as he loses himself.

“You’re part of me,” He says between kisses, his forehead pressed on yours, “for as long as I live, you’re right here,”

Yunho tugs your hand to lay flat over his chest, over the knotted soulmark on his breastbone and you gasp sharply, nodding again, “I love you,”

“You feel me too, don’t you?” He manages.

”Always,” Your hips roll, meeting his tempo better, an undulation of your bodies that kisses your hips together with every breath, “always,”

“Here,” He lays his hand flat over your chest, holding your gaze, “I’m right here,”

Hot tears flood your eyes, overwhelming emotion, pleasure, and all you can do is nod.

“That’s it,” He shudders, taking a sharp inhale, dragging your body back and forth with his other hand, “just like that,”

You’re both close, your own orgasm stretched long and his rocketing back full force.

You whine his name, grip down on his sweat-slick shoulders.

“Always here,” He manages, still breathless, “I’m always inside you,”

“B-baby,” You’re a split second away, “Yunho!”

He groans, his pace stuttering as he feels you start to come around him again, and he pulls you down flush to his hips. You feel his release wash through you, and the warm sensation of his cum pumping deep into you, filling you.

Yunho’s face is buried in your neck as he pants, feeling your fluttering pulses still rocking through you, “Always inside you,” he shivers, kissing your chest, “always you and me,”

Tears spill over, your fingers knotting into his hair as your bodies slowly rock together through the final washes of pleasure.

When the wave passes, cool air washes over your skin and you shiver in his arms.

”Don’t be scared,” Yunho murmurs against your throat, feeling the thread of your grief underneath it all, “I promise you, we can do this,”

“I know,” You breathe into his shoulder.

“It’ll be hard,” He murmurs, straightening up and finding your face with gentle hands, “but you were right, we’re going to be so happy,”

You nod, breathing back another wave of emotion.

“This part will pass,” He murmurs.

“I know,” You whisper softly in the dark safety of your apartment, “but I’m really going to miss you,”

He kisses you gently, full of tenderness, “Not for long, I promise,”

“We’ll make this work,” You nod, trying to search for your earlier strength.

”We will,” He says, “we have a plan, and we have each other.”

“Yunho,” You hold him close, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” He seals it with a kiss, “always.”

You nod against him, soaking in his warmth and his presence for a little longer.

After a few minutes he sighs, “Let’s go back to bed for a little while longer,”

You agree, you let him take you upstairs. Wrapped up in each other’s arms you rest, but neither one of you falls asleep. Quietly you watch the night sky break hazy blue with the dawn, and you hold onto each other until the day gets up and moving around you, until it pulls him through the motions and out the door. Last kisses, last promises, a heavy ache nestling deep in both of your chests.

On the couch, alone again, you close your eyes and search yourself for the thread of him, clinging to the tender ache in your ache in your hips, and the heavy beat of his heart with yours.

───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────

Plans are just plans after all.

Yunho has almost told his best friend about you a thousand times over, but every time the words die on his tongue. Keeping you a closely guarded secret is both the scariest and the smartest thing he thinks he’s ever done though, because the more people know about you the more risks there are that he can’t control. And he’s never been willing to be risky with you, not even before he realized you were his.

Three long months have passed since that weekend in your apartment, and he’s seen you alone a total of nine times. Ten if you count the time he cornered you in the KBS dressing room last comeback, but he doesn’t really count one rushed kiss between panicked glances at the door as seeing you alone.

Nine times.

It’s not for lack of trying, but this is harder than he ever imagined it would be.

Four of the nine were for under an hour, two were barely over that, two were proper dinner dates, and one was a full night where he nearly got caught in the morning coming home.

Coming to your apartment is a bigger production than he imagined in every way.

For starters, his members were observant, and while his manager was a heavy sleeper, he didn’t go to bed until late. He’s had to cancel more plans with you than he’s made just because there was no safe way to not be seen. Each and every time he makes it to you successfully, there’s a cost. He’s missed dinner plans, been late to practices, and made up lie after lie just so he could see you, touch you even just for an hour.

It makes sense then why he makes up a weak lie to Yeosang on tonight of all nights, just so he can get out of the dorms and make it to you by an even semi reasonable hour.

It makes sense too the way he fucked you, hard and needy and full of desperation, barely making it into the entryway of your apartment before he pinned you up against the door, leaving dinner on the stove to burn.

It makes sense in the way he lets the hours go by without checking his phone, without suggesting that he really should be getting back. He’s sick of this, he’s sick of hiding, of constantly missing you, of seeing you at work and looking past you just to protect you. When he finally leaves, on the night he’ll consider your real tenth time together, it’s with a pit in his stomach after making love to you for hours, after ignoring the niggling feeling at the base of his skull that told him this time was different.

It’s late when he turns the key in his lock, too late, but as long as everyone’s asleep he thinks maybe he’ll sneak in without detection. That idea gets ruined the second he locks the door and kicks off his shoes and sees Mingi and Yeosang quietly sitting side by side on his sofa, serious expressions on their faces.

“Hey,” Yunho tries to keep it relaxed, tries to think of a white lie, “what’s up?”

Mingi’s jaw jumps with a pulse of tension, “How about you tell us?”

His chest aches a little at Mingi’s pained expression. He really had wanted to avoid this.

”What do you mean?” Yunho tries.

Mingi huffs a sharp breath through his nose, an unfunny laugh, “You lied to Yeosang about going out with me tonight,”

Yunho stays perfectly still.

“I bumped into him at the studio,” Yeosang explains, “I left my airpods, I went back to pick them up.”

“Oh,” Yunho says dumbly.

“Something’s been going on with you,” Mingi gets to his feet, “for months. I thought you’d talk to me if you needed to, and I tried to let you know you can talk to me,”

Internally, Yunho winces. Mingi had, on several occasions, not so subtly offered himself as a listening ear.

“But lying like this,” He says, “and you haven’t been sleeping, we haven’t gone out for food in ages, you were late to practice and Yeosangie says he hears you leave after he goes to bed,”

His stomach tightens.

“If you need help,” Mingi’s angry, that much is clear, but worry is threaded in his voice, “you’ve got to talk to us.”

“I know that,” Yunho finds himself saying.

“I know shit is hard,” Mingi says, “and this year has been rough, I know,”

Yunho wants to stop him, but he can’t bring himself to say the words.

“If you’re drinking, or if it’s drugs,” Mingi says, painfully direct despite the uncertainty on his face, “you don’t have to go through that alone.”

The silence in the room is drowning him, and all at once Yunho realizes how much of a mistake it was to keep you hidden away from his brothers.

“It’s not that,” Yunho admits hoarsely.

“Thank God,” Yeosang drops his head into his hands.

“Then,” Mingi searches his best friend’s face.

“There is something,” Yunho feels his heartbeat pick up in his chest, and distantly inside himself he searches for the feeling of you, “I should have told you,”

Mingi crosses his arms, but keeps his voice calm, “Okay,”

Yeosang stands too, giving Yunho an encouraging nod.

“I met someone,” Yunho manages.

“What?” Mingi's arms drop, and Yeosang’s eyes widen.

In all the years they’ve been together, Yunho’s never discussed a girl like this. Outside of occasionally covering for one another when someone has a hookup, romance and the risk that comes with that to their joint careers is something all eight of them have been diligent about since the beginning. It’s something they promised each other would never interfere, not while their contracts were so strict and so tenuous.

“It’s more than that,” Yunho confesses, dropping his eyes, “it’s y/n,”

“What?” Mingi’s voice is sharp, “Our y/n?”

“How long?” Yeosang blinks.

“Since Berlin,” Yunho looks up and rushes to the full truth the second he sees Mingi’s expression, “she’s my soulmate, it’s not what you think,”

Yeosang’s eyes widen, “Our makeup artist is your soulmate?”

“We didn’t know,” Yunho clarifies, “we touched, not even on purpose, and it was just like… there, we both knew,”

The truth sits between them, immovable and too real.

“So,” Mingi says finally, “that’s where you’ve been?”

Yunho nods, “We have a plan, we just needed some more time before we told anyone,”

”Fuck you,” Mingi shakes his head.

A spark of defensive anger ignites in Yunho’s gut, “What?”

Mingi takes a wide step towards him, “Fuck you, I said,” he repeats, “we’ve done everything together since we were fourteen and you didn’t think I’d want to know you found the love of your life?”

Yunho winces, “It’s not like that,”

“How is it?”

“We have to be careful, you know that,” Yunho presses, “I know I fucked up, but people can’t find out,”

“Am I people?” Mingi’s voice spikes.

”No, that’s,”

“I wouldn’t tell someone that,” Mingi presses on his logic, “none of us would, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Hey,” Yeosang grabs Mingi’s arm, “our manager will hear,”

“Maybe he should hear!” Mingi shrugs off his hand.

Yunho snaps immediately, “Keep your mouth shut,” he hisses, “you can be pissed all you want, but don’t put us in that position because you’re angry with me.”

“Us,” He repeats, and then internally does the math, “Berlin was four months ago,”

“I know,”

“Who the fuck are you?” Mingi shakes his head, “You’ve been lying to our faces for months,”

“I know,” Yunho drops his shoulders.

”Team meeting,” Yeosang says calmly, “tonight.”

“It’s late,” Yunho offers.

”The rules are that we deal with something in the moment,” Mingi sneers, “or did you forget that one too?”

Yunho takes the stinging barb without comment and nods, “Alright,”

“Thirty minutes, at the studio.” Mingi says.

”I’ll get the others up,” Yeosang offers.

“I’ll call y/n,” Yunho murmurs.

”Why?” Mingi reels back.

”Because,” Yunho’s jaw flexes, “whatever you feel about this, I’m not talking about her or making decisions that affect her without her in the room.”

Mingi is speechless, but Yeosang simply nods, “It’s a good idea,”

Yunho finds his phone, buried in his coat pocket, and grimaces when he sees a string of texts from you. He doesn’t even read them before he presses the call button.

“Hey,” You answer immediately and his stomach unclenches at the sound of your voice.

”Hey,” Yunho says, “everything’s okay,”

”What happened?” Your tone is sharp and he can feel your tension.

“The members know,” He keeps it simple, “we’re going to the studio to discuss it. Can you come?”

“Now?”

“Yes,” Yunho’s voice softens, “I just, I want you to,”

“Let me get dressed, I can be there in fifteen minutes,”

“Don’t rush,” Yunho presses, “and don’t walk at this time of night, take a taxi, I’ll pay for it just don’t,”

“I’ll be fine,” You remind him.

“y/n,”

“I’ll call a cab,” You promise him.

Yunho nods, “Thank you,”

“I’ll see you soon,” You promise him, “but are you okay?”

“Mhm,” Yunho replies shortly, “I’ll see you soon.”

”Alright,” You murmur, “I love you,”

He can’t not say it back, and softly he replies, “I love you too,”

When he drops the phone and looks back up to his best friend, the expression on his face is nothing short of abject betrayal. The ride to the studio is the most painful fifteen minutes of his life, followed only by the next fifteen minutes waiting for you, all eyes on him except for his best friend who can’t stop staring at the linoleum.

───────────────────────── ✧₊⁺───────────────────────

You take a cab to the studio, just like Yunho asked you to, but it’s almost worse than walking. At least walking you’d have the distraction of movement and your own momentum making you feel like you were going somewhere. Every stop of the taxi makes your stomach lurch and your anxiety double in your chest. Yunho has been silent via text, and the panic of not knowing what you’re walking into is starting to eat at you alive.

By the time you swipe your keycard you feel dizzy, and when you finally make it up to the practice room you realize those nerves aren’t just yours, but his too. The tension in the room is unmatched, and all eyes zero in on you like a laser beam.

Words don’t come, but the frozen moment is broken the moment you meet Yunho’s eyes and he stands from his place leaning on the corner desk, cutting through the room to get to you.

“Hey,” Your eyes flick from him to the room.

”Thank you for coming,” He brushes a hand over your arm and leans in, kissing you warmly on the forehead.

The room makes no sound to welcome you and you find Yunho’s hand, “Is everything alright?”

He gives you a tight smile, “Everything’s going to be fine,”

So no.

Someone clears their throat and you both take a small step away from each other. For the first time you have a second to assess everyone and it’s possibly worse than you thought.

Hongjoong looks furious, Mingi murderous, and with the exception of San and Seonghwa, everyone else looks exhausted and in disbelief.

“Alright,” Yunho says, “let’s talk,”

Everyone looks to Hongjoong.

He glances between you both, and then he sighs heavily and runs a hand over his face, “How about we start with an explanation? Yunho?”

You can feel he has his defenses up, something coiled inside him and ready to strike, but you lay your hand on his forearm and give him a small squeeze and you watch the way he deflates, nodding a little to you.

“In Berlin,” Yunho starts, his voice much calmer than it would have been without your grounding touch, “when a bunch of staff got Covid, y/n did my makeup for the first time.”

Hongjoong nods, and you do your best to keep your eyes on him over the rest of the boys.

“We hadn’t ever touched skin to skin before,” Yunho continues, “but when we did it was like all the stuff you read about, I knew it immediately.”

“Did you?” Wooyoung breaks in, his eyes locked on you.

You nod, “Immediately,”

“Then?” Hongjoong prompts.

“We tried to keep our distance for the tour once we talked it through,” He says, “the idea was to stay focused on work while we were abroad and to discuss it once we were back home and had the space to do that.”

Hongjoong only nods.

“Once we were home though,” Yunho looks down to you, finding your hand and lacing your fingers together, “it’s been different, harder. We are very aware of what this would do if it leaked, we’re taking every precaution, we’re keeping our distance even now.”

“Were you ever planning to tell us?” Hongjoong finally asks.

“Of course,” Yunho bristles at that, “we had a plan for that too. Once our contracts were near the six year mark, we planned to come and talk to you like this together,”

“That’s months from now.” Mingi says dryly.

”And what was the plan if you were seen before that? Photographed? Caught sneaking out?” Hongjoong says pointedly, “I assume you have a plan for that, otherwise this is incredibly, incredibly foolish of you both.”

Shameful blush heats your cheeks and you look down, away from their eyes.

”So no plan,” Hongjoong shakes his head, his voice hardening, “I cannot believe this,”

“Joong,” Yunho takes a step forwards, “all of you, I know I fucked up, but this is different,”

Mingi makes a sound of derision.

Yunho looks to Seonghwa, and everything spins off the rails, “Hyung, tell them,”

“Yunho,” Seonghwa says softly, “I told you both not to lie,”

“You knew?” Hongjoong’s voice is sharp.

“We both did,” San jumps in, ready to make sure Seonghwa isn’t falling on the sword alone.

“This is not how we do things, this is not okay!” Hongjoong all but yells and you take a sliding step backwards out of the loose circle.

A hand connects with your arm and you look up to Yeosang, “Hang on,” he says softly, “it’s alright,”

“What happened to casual hookups but no relationships, hmm?” Hongjoong says, exasperated, “And being honest with us, your team, your brothers,”

Anger flares inside you, but it isn’t yours, it’s Yunho’s, “You’re not getting it, this isn’t a relationship, this is something bigger than that,”

“A year and a half,” Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair, “you couldn’t have just waited for a fucking year and a half?”

“You don’t understand,” Yunho manages.

”I understand you’re willing to lie to us all of a sudden,” He counters, “you’re willing to put your career at risk, and ours, because you’re thinking with your dick,”

Yunho’s hands tighten into fists and your stomach rolls. This is so much worse than you ever thought possible.

You shrug off Yeosang’s hand and move for the door, but he catches you again, “Don’t go,” he presses, “this really isn’t about you, it’s about him lying. No one’s upset with you, not really, and Yunho wants you here.”

You’re frozen, weighing his words and then in your periphery Jongho nods and quietly says, “Just wait,”

When you turn back to center though, the altercation in the middle of the dance floor has gotten even more heated.

“Out of line, hyung,” San is squared up between Yunho and Hongjoong, Mingi to the leader’s side still looking ready for a fight.

“I’m,” Yunho flounders, “I’m not trying to be an asshole, but I’m telling you, you don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it,” Hongjoong sounds so dismissive.

“Joong,” Seonghwa murmurs gently, trying to bring the peace, “I know you’re angry,”

“You’re right I’m angry,” Hongjoong swivels to face his friend, “and I haven’t even touched how angry I am at you for keeping this from me too.”

“Joong,” Yunho tries.

“No, no,” Hongjoong spins on his heel, “I think we’re allowed to be a little angry. We have a nine AM schedule, and it’s three o’clock in the morning. You’ve dragged us here to talk about this, not some little interpersonal rift, no, we’re here to find out that one of our own has been putting us at risk for months,”

“Jesus,” Yunho drags a hand through his hair, emotion rising in his chest, “I’m sorry, I am, but you don’t understand,”

“I think we understand just fine,” Mingi says, his arms crossed tightly.

Yunho scoffs, and you feel the reflection of his frustration in your own chest.

“Oh,” Yunho throws his hands up, “you understand, you all understand.”

“Yunho,” Wooyoung tries softly, reading his sudden intensity, but it’s no use now.

“When we touched everything changed,” Yunho insists, “it’s not just knowing she’s my soulmate. I can feel her, all of that shit is true.”

“But people,” Hongjoong starts, and it doesn’t really matter what his argument is because Yunho steamrolls that too.

“I don’t care about people,” Yunho says firmly, “I care about her. It’s not a crush, it’s not a flirtation. She’s not a hookup or just any girl, she’s the one and the minute I knew it, it was like the entire universe pushed me towards her until we were together. We’ve been fighting how that feels for months to try and keep this quiet, because both of us would never risk this team, but don’t tell me you understand how it feels. You don’t.”

The room has gone quiet, and raw emotion fills your chest.

“I’m still sorry,” Yunho manages, “I shouldn’t have lied to any of you and I know that. I know that.”

Your heartbeat quickens.

“But, what would you have me do?” Yunho asks, his voice cracking, “My entire life I’ve worked for this, for us, and I’ve given everything I have to it for every second of the past six years,”

No one says anything to that, because of course he has. They all have.

Yunho’s shoulders drop, “Am I supposed to give this too?”

Tears flood your eyes but you hold yourself steady for him.

His words hang in the silence, but it’s Mingi who finally breaks it, “You’re my brother,” he says, his voice considerably gentler, “I’d never hurt you like that.”

“Then please,” Yunho implores, “please listen to me, to us, I know we made mistakes, but haven’t I earned that?”

Hongjoong sinks back against the desk and runs a hand through his messy hair, and slowly he nods.

“We’re listening,” Mingi relaxes his posture, his eyes softening, “we are,”

Yunho swallows tightly and nods, taking a breath.

Hongjoong’s eyes flick from Yunho to you, “y/n, come back, I’m sorry,”

Yunho turns in a flash and catches where you are in the room, close to the door with Yeosang and Jongho blocking your exit, eyes full of tears and arms wrapped around yourself.

“Baby,” He breathes, crossing the room once again for you, “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” You breathe, pulling back the tears, “I’m fine,”

“You’re crying,” He tugs you in, kissing your head.

“I’m fine, let’s talk to them,” You brush off his attentions but you feel him through the bond, a comforting brush of his mind on yours, and you find his hand to lace your fingers together.

He draws you into the circle, and you brush away any lingering tears with your free hand before taking a deep breath.

“We,” Hongjoong looks around the circle and then back up to you both, echoing Mingi’s words, “we’re all listening.”

Yunho’s nervous, you can feel it, but you give his hand a squeeze and look up as he starts to speak, “Someday,” he offers, “you’ll meet your person and it will make more sense why we both acted the way we did, I don’t mean to sound like that, but I really don’t know how to put it all in words,”

Mingi’s jaw tightens, but he releases it immediately and you can see how he’s trying to keep himself relaxed and steady for his best friend now that the initial wave of anger is passed.

“We should have told you all sooner, and I know it isn’t a matter of trust, but,” He rubs at the anxious knot in his chest and you feel the echo of it, “you know how our contracts are,”

There’s soft murmurs of acknowledgement.

“You know what could happen to her if anyone,” He looks down at you briefly before looking up to Mingi, holding his best friend’s gaze, “I just wanted to keep her safe from that, for as long as I could.”

Mingi nods, his posture relaxing, “Alright,”

“What we talk about here doesn’t leave this room,” Jongho offers, laying a hand on Yunho’s arm, “that has always been true, and that includes this.”

Yunho swallows back a knot of emotion and nods, “Thank you,”

“You’re bonded already,” Wooyoung notes, not a question but an observation as he watches the two of you together.

Your hand falls away from your chest, where you were slowly massaging the same spot of anxiety, a mirror of Yunho.

“Yes,” Yunho murmurs, “I love her, I,”

“We love each other,” You finally find the strength to speak now that the tension has gone down a little, “and I’m sorry too, but it doesn’t change what we are to each other. He’s it for me,”

Seonghwa smiles first, and then San follows, “It is pretty romantic,” he says.

“Can you really feel each other through the bond?” Wooyoung asks, no longer upset but interested.

“It’s insane,” Yunho nods, a grin breaking out on his face.

“Even from far apart?” Mingi raises an eyebrow.

You nod, “I knew something was wrong tonight before he called me,” you explain, “I could just feel it.”

“Damn,” Wooyoung says, “that is insane,”

“Yeah,” You manage.

“Alright,” Hongjoong interrupts, bringing the group back to attention, “then the only thing to do is move forward. We’re a team, we’ve handled a lot of shit together. We can handle this too,”

Yunho lets out a breath of relief and manages a thank you, but Hongjoong continues.

“We need a plan, and we need one now.”

You nod along with his words, “You’re right.”

“Who knows about you two?” He asks.

“Just Iseul from staff,” You see the stricken expression on Hongjoong’s face but you calm him immediately, “she’s known since Paris, and she’s my best friend. She hasn’t said a word to anyone and is already covering for us, we can trust her,”

“Our families know,” Yunho says, “well, Gunho and her sister, anyway,”

“Would they tell anyone?” Hongjoong asks delicately.

”No,” You’re firm, “Hana understands the risks for us, she and her wife both do.”

There’s a flicker of understanding in his eyes when he hears the word wife, and he nods, “Good, that’s good,”

“And you know Gunho,” Yunho says.

“Tell me again, then,” Hongjoong sighs, “what was your plan?”

“When contracts are at year six,” Yunho releases your hand so that he can wrap his arm around your shoulders instead, “we were going to come to you, and hope that you would all be willing to do an early renegotiation. We’d come clean as part of that process and find a way to loosen the contracts for dating. We have no plans of being publicly together for a long time, but at least then we wouldn’t have to sneak around and risk our contracts because of it,”

“It’s not a bad plan,” Hongjoong says, “but by that time you’d have been together for months, it’s too risky to assume no manager will ever look into where you’ve been disappearing or notice something between you at the office,”

You nod.

“It makes the lying look worse,” Jongho adds, “if you were just dating anyone I’d say maybe don’t come clean, but you can’t help finding your soulmate.”

“Only,” You jump in softly, “we’ve never heard of an idol with a soulmate,”

Hongjoong chews the inside of his cheek, “True,”

“Have you considered you might be the first?” Wooyoung offers.

“That’s not possible,” Yunho shakes his head, “there has to be someone,”

“I mean,” Wooyoung shrugs, “not that any of us have heard of, right?”

He looks around the circle, but no one jumps in with an example, everyone stays painfully quiet.

“It’s strange there’s no clause for it,” Mingi says, “an exception,”

“It’s not,” You sigh, “could you imagine us feeling this way at twenty? Or when you were all trainees?”

“Companies don’t want us to find soulmates,” Wooyoung nods, “I wonder if this has happened before but we just don’t know, maybe companies keep it covered up?”

“Yeah, well,” Yunho’s hand tightens on you, “we’re bonded already. I’m sure some companies think they’re more powerful than a centuries old metaphysical connection, but they can go fuck themselves.”

You huff a small laugh and tuck your face into Yunho’s chest.

“Maybe let’s not lead with that,” Hongjoong sighs, “we want them to agree.”

“We’re skipping steps,” Jongho interrupts, “no matter what, if you stay together we need to renegotiate contracts.”

Yunho stiffens, but you settle him with a hand over his chest.

“A vote,” Hongjoong clears his throat, “and we need to be in agreement. Hands up for early renegotiation conversations with leadership, standing by Yunho and y/n for adjustments to the dating clauses. Remember this path is riskier, and will potentially result in months of negotiations.”

Hands raise throughout the circle, and your chest grows tighter.

Your eyes flick from member to member, each one with their hand raised regardless of how tired or angry they were moments ago.

The only member without his hand raised is Mingi.

Yunho’s arm falls away from you as he turns towards him, “Please,”

But Mingi looks straight at you and it roots you to the spot, “Are you ready for this?”

“Me?” Your eyebrows raise.

”Mingi, don’t,” Yunho warns.

“It’s going to be public,” Mingi says plainly, “at some point at least. Can you handle that? Can you ignore all the bullshit and stay anyway? Because this job is our dream, his dream, and the fans and the visibility, all of that comes with it.”

“You don’t have to answer that,” Yunho moves to step between you, as if there’s some kind of threat in the question, but you side step him.

“Yunho,” You tell him, a soft rebuke in your tone.

He stays silent.

Turning your eyes to Mingi you nod, “I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, “I don’t do the job you do. I don’t know what that amount of attention or pressure feels like, honestly, I don’t really want to know.”

He studies your expression.

“I have no interest in hurting any of your dreams, your careers, and I’ll do everything I can to protect them. But like it or not, I’m not going anywhere,” Your hands clench into fists, “and it would be nice if whatever plan we come up with acknowledges the fact that I also work at this company, I also stand to lose everything, and if the public decides to shred someone, it won’t be any of you, it will be me. I love him, I know the risks, and I am not giving him up. Is that enough for you or not?”

Mingi takes in your words for a beat and then he smiles widely and raises his hand, “Let’s do this,”

“Just like that?” Your eyes widen.

You expected more of a fight from him, but at Yunho’s relieved exhale you know he’s on board.

“Yep,” Mingi nods and then looks up to Yunho, “I always knew I like her,”

“I’m standing right here,” You cross your arms.

“Pick your battles, baby,” Yunho wraps his arms around you from behind and gives you a squeeze. Taking a deep breath, he looks up to his members, “I,” he clears his throat, “I’ll never be able to thank you all for this,”

Hongjoong brushes that off, “We’re a team. It doesn’t work without all eight.”

“Still,” Yunho presses, “thank you.”

Hongjoong nods once, “No more lies now,” he adds, “if we’re in this together, we’re in it.”

You nod and so does Yunho.

“If you’re seeing each other, one of us needs to know and we need a better cover than ‘he’s out’,” He continues.

“So contracts first?” San asks, “If we don’t know how they’ll take their bonding, it’s a wild card for negotiations.”

Everyone considers that point and Yunho nods, “It’s not odd for us to want to renegotiate early, and removing dating bans is standard for moving off rookie contracts, if we’re all in that together it wouldn’t throw any flags.”

Hongjoong considers it and then nods, “Friday after practice, we’ll meet at your apartment. We’ll put the plan together then in detail and decide what and how we want to negotiate. What we’re willing to give, what we’re not.”

Everyone nods. “If we can make some decisions, we can consult outside counsel and we can start meetings with leadership in the next few weeks. There’s no telling how long that process will take, but until then,” He looks to you both, “be additionally cautious.”

“Of course,” You nod.

“We’ll tell them about us when it makes sense to do that with negotiations,” Yunho agrees, “we’ll take their temperature first, and then come clean. We need to see what we can do to insulate y/n’s position here, and I’d rather have that conversation with the CEO directly while we have a good relationship,”

“Agreed,” Hongjoong says.

There’s a collective feeling of relief in the room, the air slowly let out of the balloon of tension, and then Wooyoung cracks through the silence with a laugh, “Holy shit,” he smiles, “one of us is bonded.”

Yunho smiles, his chest swelling with pride behind you, “I know,”

“It would be you,” Seonghwa laughs.

Yunho rolls his eyes and you look at Seonghwa with a little confusion.

“We used to call him cathedral boy,” San says wryly.

You laugh and Yunho wraps his arms around you more tightly.

Hongjoong smiles, really smiles for the first time since you got here and nods, “Alright, alright,” he checks his phone, “we have a schedule in less than five hours, let’s get home.”

Jongho nods, pulling on his beanie, “You know,” he says, “if we renegotiate now, maybe we’ll actually start getting paid,”

“That’s the idea,” Mingi huffs a laugh and everyone follows behind.

Yunho’s shoulders drop, the final bit of anxiety leaving him.

After that, the room starts to break up, everyone finding their jackets, but one by one, each of them gives you and Yunho a moment; a warm expression, a hand on the shoulder, a few words of congratulations. The anger you felt when you first walked in the room is gone entirely, and all that’s left is pure relief.

Yunho drops his lips to your head and sighs heavily, warm air tickling your scalp, “Well,” he murmurs, “we did it,”

You rest your hand over his and gently stroke his skin, “Are you okay?”

He nods, “Yeah,”

You feel the swirling emotions in him - relief, pride, hope, elation. For the first time since finding out you were fated for each other, the obstacles in front of you don’t seem so impossible to overcome.

Mingi and Yeosang are the last in the room with you both, and quietly you untangle yourself from Yunho until the four of you are in a loose square in the middle of the practice room.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Mingi says, clearing his throat, “I was a dick.”

Yunho shakes his head, “You’re good, I deserved it.”

You glance between them, but Yeosang smiles a little and interjects, “You two look happy together, we can’t deny that,”

You smile too, nodding and finding yourself once again caught by Yunho’s warm expression as he looks down at you.

“Go on,” Mingi sighs, “take her home, we’ll cover for you tonight.”

“But,” Yunho’s head snaps back up to his friends.

“I’ll bring you a change of clothes to the office,” Yeosang says, “you couldn’t sleep and went for an early morning run, right?”

Yunho nods, “Right,”

“Don’t be late,” Mingi claps his best friend on the shoulder, “now go get some sleep, you look tired as hell.”

Yunho snorts, “Thanks, man,”

“Yep,” Mingi pulls a beanie over his hair and nods to you, “take care of him.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest, “I will.”

Mingi nods again, as if to say he knows you will, and then he and Yeosang are gone, leaving you both alone in the mirrored room.

There’s nothing to say, not right now, but you fold into each other tenderly. After months of lies and panic and anxiety, you have your answers to so many questions. Yunho kisses you softly, wraps you up in his coat, and takes you home, right where you’re both supposed to be.

#honeyhotteoks fics #yunho x reader #yunho ff #yunho #ateez yunho #ateez #ateez ff #ateez fic #yunho smut #jeong yunho #yunho series #yunho fic

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wield-the-mighty-pen · 2 days ago

Text

A kind reminder to everyone who had a problem with this scene:

That this is a symptom of PTSD:

Hope this helps!

#i am so desperate to write my marinette has ptsd analysis post #but i havent had time recently to do it properly #but i did want to do this #Sometimes all the salt get to me #she. is. 14. and. traumatized.#she needs a hug and a therapist #not derision and hate #pleaseeeeee #and no im not saying that its a good thing to be reckless with other people's life #im saying that theres a clear reason to why shes behaving the way she has been this season #im saying that she is traumatized by what happened last season #and i think we should all blame the real culprit here #gabe.#can we all just admit that 99% of the problems that people have with marinette #is all really just because of him?!?!#gabriel agreste is the worst #miraculous ladybug #mlb #miraculous #ml #ml spoilers #marinette dupain cheng #ml season 6 #ml season 6 spoilers #ml werepapas

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ssaaaronmontgomery · 3 days ago

Text

On Your Knees

Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), rough!hotch, face fucking, some dom/sub dynamic here, some aftercare, Hotch calls reader honey and baby once, slight language, praise!, brief mentions of a bad case but not described, and I think that's all but let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

Original Hotch Thought: Aaron coming home from a bad case and using you for stress relief.

A/n: Supposed to be another Hotch Thoughts post but I lost my mind a little so here is a full fic about Aaron fucking your face 🫣😩

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

Lmk if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

*This post is NSFW MDNI*

Aaron walks through the door and immediately comes to your shared bedroom. You greet him with a smile and go to ask him how it went, but he just takes your hand before you can get the question out and starts tugging, desperate to get you off of the bed.

"Bad case. Just be quiet and get on your knees."

You follow his order and you quickly get into position for him. You're looking up at him and waiting for further instruction before doing anything else. When he's like this, he's in charge and you do exactly what he says.

"You can touch." He says after admiring the sight of you in front of him for a few seconds.

So you do. You bring one of your hands up to palm his already half-hard dick. You use your other hand to get his belt and slacks undone before you finally tug them down enough and slip his cock out of his underwear. You begin stroking him and he lets out a long sigh. Aaron's hand has found its way to your cheek, cupping it gently before roughly grabbing your chin and making you look up at him. You stop your movements, hand freezing around him.

He just shakes his head and tells you to keep going, so you start pumping his aching cock again and he keeps your chin in his grip. You're still forced to look up at him, not that you mind. Then Aaron does something that you love. He parts your lips with his thumb and you instinctively open up for him, allowing him to slide it into your warm awaiting mouth. You close your lips around his thumb and you suckle on it, still holding eye contact with Aaron.

"Good. That's good, honey."

Your hand starts to pump him faster and his jaw clenches slightly. He rubs his thumb over your tongue and you moan around the digit before Aaron slips it out of your mouth causing you to frown before he moves his hand to the back of your head and neck, guiding your sadly empty mouth to where it can be filled again.

His other hand wraps around his cock and he taps his tip on your lips, making you open again and he slots his tip between your parted lips this time. You glide your tongue over the slit to get a taste of his precum. It's bitter and salty but it's him and you love getting to taste him. He pushes your head gently, practically feeding his cock to you. He's just a little bigger and he fills your mouth easily.

"That's it. There you go. Keep going. Just a little more." He keeps guiding your head to make you take more of him. "Relax your jaw- there you go. You're so good for me." Your nose is pressed into the hair at his base, filling your nostrils with his musky scent as the head of his dick hits the back of your throat. You try not to let yourself gag when it hits the back, so you relax yourself the way he's helped you do in the past.

Both of Aaron's hands are holding your head now, one on either side.

"Are you okay?"

You nod slightly in response.

"I'm going to use you now, okay?"

You nod as best as you can again.

And after that Aaron starts with a few gentle thrusts into your mouth and then he really starts to pick up the pace. You can't help moaning around his length and he groans at the vibrations it sends through him. His grip on your head tightens a bit and he grits his teeth as he moves a little faster.

You rest a hand on his thigh and start moving it up slowly. When he doesn't stop you, you cup his balls in your hand and you start to massage them as you look up at him with tears in your eyes as he groans and moans at the added sensation. Aaron's eyes are closed and his head is tilted back as he fucks your face.

His dick twitches and he moves you, you move both of your hands to the floor for stability when he pushes you back against the side of the bed as he chases his orgasm. He's not holding back now, his hips are snapping faster and harder. He doesn't pay any attention to the whimpers that his length is muffling.

"Fuck, that's it. That's so good, baby. Just stay right there. I'm so close."

Aaron's grunts fill your ears as his thrusts become more sloppy and less consistent. You grip his thigh with one hand and try to swallow around him, struggling to continue breathing through your nose. You hear him groan again as he reaches his high, spilling his warm cum at the back of your throat. You struggle to take it all, but you do because he needs that right now and you would hate to deprive him of anything, especially after a long case.

Once he has come down from that euphoric high, he pulls out of your mouth and tucks himself away, putting every back in place and holding your face gently now. He wipes your tears away and brushes his thumb over your lips to clean up the saliva left on them. He takes your hands and helps you stand and then guides you to sit back on the bed.

"Are you still okay?"

His voice is soft now. You nod and he rubs his thumb over your cheek affectionately.

"I'm okay." Your voice comes out raspy and a little broken from how used your mouth and throat are. Aaron leans down and kisses your swollen puffy lips before pulling away.

"I'll go get you some water and a snack yeah? Then I'll take care of you too. Just relax, I'll be right back." Aaron says before leaving and coming back a minute later with exactly what he promised. And after that he does take care of you, also as he promised. Then you both finally get to clean each other up and hold each other. Aaron tells you what happened during the case that pissed him off so much and you listen, offering your understanding and many kisses to his forehead before he is finally able to let himself fall asleep in your arms.

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reidmarieprentiss · 2 days ago

Text

Quickie?

Summary: Reader wants to sneak in a quickie before the BAU takes off again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x FBI fem!reader

Category: fluff, suggestive (16+)

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content, secret relationship, reader works at FBI but not BAU

Word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is much more positive than the last post :)

main masterlist

You and Spencer have been secretly seeing each other for a few months now. Since you work in a different department, you don’t get to see him as often as you’d like, and you never have the chance to join him on cases.

The moment you see the news that the BAU is heading out on another case, your heart sinks just a little. You understand that Spencer’s job is demanding—he’s always chasing criminals across the country, putting his mind to work in ways that save lives. But it doesn’t make it any easier when he’s gone for days at a time, leaving you to miss him in silence.

With a quiet sigh, you pull out your phone and type out a message:

Meet me upstairs before you go?

You don’t have to say where. You both know. The fifth-floor office—empty, forgotten, your little sanctuary within the walls of the FBI. It had started as a joke, just a place to escape prying eyes when work got overwhelming, but over time, it had turned into something more. A safe space for the two of you.

The reply comes almost instantly.

Give me five minutes.

You don’t hesitate, pushing away from your desk and making your way to the stairs instead of the elevator. The anticipation sits heavy in your chest, a mixture of excitement and something almost desperate.

By the time you push open the office door, Spencer is already there, leaning against the desk, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours.

“You’re fast,” you say, closing the door behind you.

“I wasn’t going to waste any time,” he murmurs, already reaching for you. His hands find your wrists, pulling you closer as he stays seated on the desk. His touch is warm and grounding, even through the layers of clothing.

Your fingers drift up to the collar of his cardigan, playing with the fabric as you let yourself relax in his presence. “I hate that you have to go.”

“I know.” He sighs, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I hate it too. But I’ll call you as soon as I land.”

You nod, though it doesn’t really make it easier. “I just wish we had more time.”

His hand moves to your waist and tightens ever so slightly. “Me too.” There’s a pause, a hesitation in his expression, before he adds, “I think about you all the time when I’m gone.”

Your heart stutters at his confession, a warmth spreading through your chest. “Yeah?”

Spencer huffs out a soft, shy laugh. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but smile, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his face. “Then you better come back to me in one piece.”

You lean in, pressing a sweet kiss to Spencer’s lips—soft, slow, something that feels like a promise. When you pull away, he stays close, murmuring against your mouth, “Always.”

Something about Spencer’s breath ghosting across your lips sends a shiver down your spine. The soft pink hue creeping down his neck is so endearing that it stokes a fire deep in your stomach, pooling heat beneath your skin. You lean in for another kiss, slow and deliberate, savoring the way he melts beneath your touch. One hand threads gently through his hair, fingers curling lightly at the roots, while the other traces delicate patterns against his chest, nails just barely scratching over the fabric between you.

Spencer gets lost for a moment, his mind short-circuiting as he tries to process the reality of you—of your lips on his, of your hands in his hair, of the way you look at him like he’s something to be devoured. It still feels surreal, like a dream he’s half-convinced he’ll wake up from because someone as beautiful as you want him like this doesn’t seem possible.

But then reality crashes back in—the fluorescent hum of the office lights, the distant chatter from the floors below, the ever-present risk of someone walking in. His fingers tighten briefly against your waist before he forces himself to gently push against your shoulders.

“Wait…wait,” he murmurs, his voice breathless and uneven as he tries to collect himself. “We can’t do this here.”

Your lips are already trailing along his neck, warm and teasing, and the way you hum against his skin makes his resolve waver.

“Do what?” you tease, your voice laced with mischief as you press another slow, deliberate kiss just beneath his jaw.

Spencer exhales sharply, his head tipping back slightly before he forces himself to lean away, his cheeks flushed as he fumbles for words. “Um… this.”

Your fingers curl at the nape of his neck, holding him close, your voice dipping into something dangerously sweet.

“What are we doing, baby?” you whisper, letting the words linger between you, daring him to say it.

Spencer’s breath stutters as he struggles to find the right words, his hands hovering uselessly over your hips as if he can't decide whether to pull you closer or push you away. His face is already flushed, the color creeping down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.

“I—I’m… Y/N, I’m going to… uh, get—” He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries and fails to look anywhere but at you. Finally, he forces the word out in a near whisper as if saying it any louder might make it worse. “Hard.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips as you tilt your head slightly, fingers still tracing lazy patterns along his chest. His honesty is endearing, his nervousness downright intoxicating, and the way his voice wavers only makes the fire in your stomach burn hotter.

“Oh,” you murmur, feigning innocence as your hand moves just the slightest bit lower. “Is that a problem?”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment, exhaling sharply through his nose like he's gathering every ounce of self-control he has left.

“Yes,” he says, though it sounds more like a plea than a protest. “We’re at work.”

“And?” you press, leaning in just enough to let your lips ghost over his jaw.

He shudders, his grip on your waist tightening. “And… I can’t walk out of here like that.”

“Who says you’ll have to leave here hard?” you murmur, your voice dripping with mischief, your fingers still dancing lightly over his chest.

Spencer’s breath hitches, his body stiff as your words' weight settles over him. His pupils dilate, and for a brief second, you see the internal war flashing across his face—temptation battling with logic, desire against reason.

“Y/N…” His voice is barely above a whisper, shaky and uneven, like he’s already losing control. His fingers dig into your waist as if anchoring himself, but it’s no use—you can feel him unraveling beneath your touch.

Still, he shakes his head, his resolve clinging to the last fragile thread of professionalism he has left. “No, we can’t—not here.”

But his voice lacks conviction, and the way he’s looking at you, lips parted, breath shallow, tells you he wants nothing more than to give in.

You pout, tilting your head as your fingers trace slow, lazy circles against his chest. “Not here?” you echo, feigning disappointment. “That’s a shame… I was really looking forward to helping you with your little problem.”

Spencer exhales sharply through his nose, gripping your hips a little tighter like he's trying to physically keep himself in check. “It’s not—” He swallows, glancing toward the closed door like he’s calculating the risk. “It’s not a little problem.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips as you press closer, feeling the way his breath stutters at the contact. “Oh?” you tease, letting your hand trail just a little lower—not too much, just enough to make him squirm. “Is it a big problem, then?”

Spencer groans, tilting his head back in exasperation. “Y/N…” he warns, though his grip on you doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens.

You press a quick, teasing kiss to the underside of his jaw, feeling the way his pulse hammers beneath your lips. “I just think it’s kind of unfair,” you say innocently. “You’re about to leave for who knows how long, and I won’t even get to see you. The least I could do is make sure you’re… comfortable before you go.”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as if trying to gather every ounce of restraint he has left. “You are not making this easy.”

You hum, dragging your nails lightly over the fabric of his shirt. “You told me you didn’t want it to be hard.”

His breath catches, and he glares at you, but there’s no real heat behind it—just frustration laced with something darker, something wanting. “You cannot say things like that.”

“Why not?” You bat your eyelashes at him. “You’re the one who admitted to getting hard at work.”

Spencer groans, dropping his forehead against your shoulder like he’s conceding defeat. “You’re evil.”

You giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. “But you like it.”

He huffs out a breath against your neck, warm and shaky. “Unfortunately.”

You grin, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of his face before pulling back just enough to look at him properly. “Relax, baby,” you whisper, smoothing your hands over his chest. “I wouldn’t actually do anything here.” You lean in, your lips brushing against his in the softest tease of a kiss. “I just like making you squirm.”

Spencer exhales a laugh, shaking his head, but you can see how his eyes have darkened and how his fingers are still gripping your waist. “Yeah,” he mutters, his voice lower than before. “I noticed.”

You smirk, pressing one last playful kiss to his lips before pulling away completely, smoothing out your shirt like nothing had happened. “Well,” you say cheerfully, stepping back toward the door. “Have fun on your case.”

Spencer stares at you like he’s still recovering as if he’s not entirely sure if he should be frustrated or turned on. Probably both.

“You’re evil,” he repeats, though the way he’s looking at you says he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @criminal-spence @navs-bhat @taygrls @person-005 @asobeeee

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imaginespazzi · 2 days ago

Text

All Fell Down ~ Part 3 ~

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

* masterlist in collaboration with @azzibuckets *

summary: paige and azzi have never really been just best friends

a/n: Hello, hello my lovies <3 I'm so sorry; I literally just fully forgot to post this part yesterday because life has been so very hectic. But I think having an Azzi Fudd masterclass before this chapter is probably ideal. As always let me know your thoughts my loves!

Azzi should have expected the deafening silence that follows Paige’s name leaving her lips. If it wasn’t for the sound of the other girl’s breathing -staggered and heavy- she’d have thought perhaps it was a phantom call with no one on the other end of the line. And really Azzi doesn’t know what she was expecting; doesn’t know why she’d expected anything but exactly this when she’d picked up her phone. But when Paige’s CallerID had flashed on the screen, the buzzing of the ringtone cutting into Azzi’s pity party, there hadn’t been much else in her brain other than this sudden burst of hope. It had taken barely two rings before she was scrambling across her bed, grabbing her phone and hitting the green answer button with far too much vigor. It was one syllable but she’d wrapped Paige’s name in a desperate mixture of i just miss talking to you and please can can we fix this. And she’d gotten nothing in return.

“Paige?” she tries again, fighting the fresh new set of tears threatening to fall from her eyes; she’s lost count of how many times she’s cried tonight.

There’s a sharp intake of air on the other end but still no response and whatever thin string had been holding the remnants of Azzi’s heart together seems to fray even more.

“Okay,” she breathes out, closing her eyes as she digs her fingernails into her palm, “okay Paige,” she repeats, her tone resigned and ready to accept something that feels a little too much like defeat, “I get it. I guess this was um- this was an accident or something so I’ll uh- I’ll hang-”

“Canyoucomepickmeup?” Paige’s words come out hoarse and slurred together as she cuts Azzi off.

“What?” the brunette’s eyes widen, unsure if she’s heard wrong.

Azzi hears Paige gulp; can almost picture the blonde chewing at her lips like she usually does when she’s nervous, “I asked if- if you could um- can you come pick me up?”

“I-”

Paige begins to ramble before she can say anything, “it’s just uh- it’s just that the rest of team seems to be having a lotta fun and I- I think maybe I drank too much and my head’s throbbing and Evina says I should go home but-”

“Okay.”

“I can’t drive myself and I don’t- I don’t wanna ruin anybody else’s night-” Paige cuts herself mid sentence, taking a second to process what Azzi had just said, “wait- okay?”

The brunette has already slipped off her bed, rummaging around her bedside table for her car keys. She thinks she’s probably giving in a little too easily, thinks she should probably be more pissed at Paige’s audacity to not speak to her for two weeks and then call her out of nowhere to ask for a mundane favor. But it’s Paige. Her Paige. And Azzi knows that if the blonde asked her to show her the stars, she’d find a way to steal the whole night sky for her.

“Okay,” Azzi confirms as she slips into her sneakers, “I should be there in a couple of minutes.”

“You’re actually coming,” Paige’s voice is slightly dazed.

There’s a pang in Azzi’s chest at the slight surprise in her best friend’s tone. It’s a testament to how much has changed between them. Those unspoken promises of we’ll always be there for each other that had been the solid foundation of their relationship seem to be clouded by fears of are we still the same us? It hits her then the depth of the abyss between them. They’re stranded on opposite sides of it and Azzi just hopes they still have enough strength to build a bridge over it and get to each other again.

“Do you still want me to come?” she asks timidly as she steps out into the wintry Storrs air. It’s freezing cold but Azzi thinks it’s nothing compared to the way she knows her heart will ice over if Paige says no.

That familiar silence lingers between them as Azzi waits for Paige to say something. It feels like that’s all she’s done for the past two weeks. Waited. She’d waited for the answers to her list of ever-growing questions as Paige had pulled further and further away from her. She’d waited to catch her best friend’s avoidant eyes so she could try and decipher the storm brewing in them. She’d waited, arms outstretched, for her Paige to come back to her. But she thinks that if Paige says no now, if Paige decides to keep building this wretched wall between them instead of helping Azzi tear it down, then she won’t wait again. Because the weight of waiting is just too much and there’s only so much longer that Azzi can hold on.

“Evina said to go home,” Paige’s voice trembles when she finally speaks, “she said to go home and all I could think of- was you.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers.

“Azzi,” and that same desperation from before echoes in Paige’s tone, “please come take me home.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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106alibi · 3 days ago

Text

good graces ; just a friend

w.c: 765

tw: reader compares her appearances

a/n: there's a mini pov switch between reader and jeno in the middle I hope you guys can catch that because I didn't really label it

“is something wrong?”

you spun around, hiding your phone behind your back as you came face to face with a concerned jeno.

“oh- um, just got some work texts.”

because you couldn't tell him your ex and the girl he had cheated on you with were currently at the same party as you both were.

jeno tilted his head, looking like a puzzled puppy, obviously skeptical of how suspicious you were being. you quickly stuffed your phone back into your purse, forcing a smile onto your face as you tugged on his blazer sleeve hoping to reassure him.

as much as you didn't want to see jake, a thought you didn't want to entertain gnawed at the back of your mind. a thought that sprouted when you saw his damn twitter post.

isn't this the perfect opportunity to show jake you're well you're doing without him?

and it was. the you of more than a month ago would've jumped on the opportunity, maybe even checked the guest list yourself to make sure jake was coming so that he could bump into you and jeno. but…

you glanced at jeno, who had somehow gone off to grab a few cupcakes while you were lost in thought.

you weren't here for this. yeah, you were mostly here because your boss threw you under the bus, but you came to have a fun time with other friends and jeno too.

you still could. as long as you avoided jake and natty, you could still salvage this party and-

“y/n?”

fuck.

you hated the fact that you knew whose voice it was. you took a desperate breath to calm yourself and turned on your heel.

there she was, latched onto his arm as an innocent smile sat on her pretty lips, her short hair that suited her so well styled to perfection, and her mini white dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. a painful reminder of everything she had that you didn't.

“they make some really good cupcakes-”

jeno paused as soon as he noticed their presence. his eyes darted between you and the man he didn't recognise, feeling a strange tension grow thick in the air the longer he smiled at you and the longer you remained expressionless.

“I didn't think I'd see you here, y/n.”

“same here.”

the girl seemed to notice the tension as well, her eyes scanning her partner's face, then yours, before she unlatched herself from his arm and stuck her hand out, a sweet smile plastering on her face.

“nice to meet you! I'm natty, a member of kiss of life. I came as jake's partner.”

there was a slight pause before you took her hand, and if it weren't for jeno’s close observation he wouldn't have noticed either. you forced a smile, it was painfully obvious to jeno who had your smile engraved in his mind, as you took her hand in yours.

“I'm y/n. this is jeno, he's a professional boxer.”

you couldn't help it, your curiosity had gotten the best of you. you slipped your hand around jeno’s arm, tightening it as your eyes scanned jake's face to gauge his reaction, hoping to sense at least a tinge of jealousy or regret.

a smirk. all you got was a smirk as jake shook jeno’s hand, muttering something about how big of a fan he was. natty whispered something in jake's ear.

“oh, y/n is just a friend of mine.”

that was your last straw. the past month of your life crumbled around you, burying you in a defeat you had never felt before. because this was the concrete evidence that slapped you into finally realising that jake never cared. that all this time and effort wasted, dragging jeno into your stupid scheme to get back at jake, arguing with kazuha about how genius your plan was, would have never amounted to anything because jake was the type of guy who could call you a friend after cheating on you.

you could feel the familiar stinging in the back of your eyes. you muttered a quick excuse and scurried to the washroom, hoping no one would question the speed you were walking at, or the way you were walking with your head down.

you locked yourself in a cubicle and quickly tore some toilet paper, dabbing at your waterline as you felt your nose start to clog and your breathing start to quicken. you couldn't think coherently. it was a tangled mess of anger, frustration, and the biggest of them all, guilt.

because now that this was all over, you had to tell jeno everything.

prev | m.list | next

a/n: haha y'all won't kill me if the next chapter is written too right... (it'll be half written half texts)

taglist: @yutarot @rksbae @sevn97 @dreamiestay @raevyng @catpjimin @mrsjohnnysuh @xiuriii @minkyuncutie @jaehyunsjasmine @cookiehaos @jenoleeaesthetic @tynlvr @ohwowzersthatscool @rubiiisyeon @multifandomania @natokkiz @veilico @jeonghansshitester @jkslvsnella @jungaji @xyzsiissnnsnsjs @17ericas @elsbunny @grassbutneo @nosungluv @flamingi @xxxx-23nct @baobeii55 @shoetaroshoe @tannieflix @myballsareitchy2 @doyotint @mood-nyvy @hyuoonp @joyzluvr @livingdoll-hara @hyuck-me @zzurao @luvandletter @jae-n0 @stqrgr7 @dudekiss3r @ksywoo @kodasity @jirsungs @hibernatinghamster @blamingontheboogie @neozon3nha @catdonut657

#nct #nct dream #nct jeno #jeno #jeno lee #lee jeno #jeno smau #nct smau #jeno imagines #jeno imagine #jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #jeno fluff

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yandere-sins · 1 day ago

Text

Cake Surprise

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! I'm glad to be able to do specials again, so this year I worked on an idea I had for a while! Unspecified yandere, too, so you can imagine whoever you want! :D Hope you enjoy it ♥

Characters: Male!Yandere x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Food Sabotage, Feeding body fluids), Pathetic Yandere, Stalking, Forced Isolation, Pretending to be a friend, Long Post

Valentine's Day had never been his favorite day.

Why? Sharing a birthday with an official holiday just sucked. The gifts were generic merchandise catered to the holiday—all pink and cute and strawberry scented—and most people were too busy to celebrate on his actual birthday since they were doing couple stuff. But this year? This year, he loved his birthday.

Because he got to spend it with you.

He couldn't remember the last time he was so excited about his birthday party, especially since there had never been someone special by his side before. Usually, he sat between all the guests, who were coupled up and feeding each other cake and laughing at the bad jokes of their lovers, but this year would be different. Because out of all the people invited, you and him were the only ones single.

There were great hopes tied to the fact that between all the lovey-dovey couples, you'd only have one option to choose. He had ensured that no one got the stupid idea to ask you out leading up to this day. For the last weeks, he had followed you around, discouraged others from approaching you, and conveniently put himself on your radar, always smiling and greeting you, walking you home after work when you two "coincidentally" met after his own shift. Buying and offering you a drink or a snack ever so often just from the "goodness of his heart". You never even noticed how he melted in your presence, how he absorbed every word you said, more desperate to spend more time with you every day.

It was a lot of effort to be the only one by your side, considering how beautiful and desirable you were. Countless times, he had to hold himself back to not pluck out the eyes that followed you wherever you went. The light in your eyes was so vibrant that no picture could capture it, and your smile made him feel like he was finally coming home after years of trying to find his place of belonging. It simply had to be you, no matter the struggles he had to go through. He made sure to be up-to-date on every hobby you had, so the conversations wouldn't run out, and in times of distress, it was him who offered his help. No wonder that you, when you were sad about not meeting your friends as often anymore and feeling lonely, gladly accepted his offer to come to his birthday party.

He regretted having to put a damper on your mood before this by making sure you'd be a little more desperate to spend time with him, too. But when you said "yes", he heard the wedding bells ring.

Everything was already decorated, his apartment a monument to everything he didn't like. Gaudy balloons, reds and pinks, roses, and kitsch that made his stomach churn. His fridge was stocked with bottles of sparkling wine, Valentine's special drinks, chocolate-dipped fruits, and the highlight of the day: a sweet, strawberry-flavored, buttercream-covered, delightfully decorated, three-tiered cake. No one would call him stingy, that much was sure.

Carefully pulling out the cake from the fridge, he admired how heavy it was, smelling heavenly with all the cream and fruits on top of it. It would be the day's highlight and, hopefully, the way straight to your heart. He knew all about your love for sweet carbs, and although you ate it mostly for special occasions or when you felt really shitty on some days, this cake was definitely going to impress you.

Setting it down on the kitchen counter, he admired the artistic endeavor done on the food. Some would say it was almost too pretty to eat with all the swirls and decorations covering it, but he'd make sure you'd receive the biggest, most delicious piece of them all! Just thinking about you cutting a big bite out of it, scooping it up on your fork, and passing it through your plush lips sent shivers down his spine.

Your tongue darting out to lick off some excessive cream left behind on your cheek, the sounds of pleasure and delight you'll make as the cream melts in your mouth, coating everything in sugary sweetness. Feeling his cock twitch beneath the fabric of his pants, he knew he shouldn't indulge in the images of you enjoying the cake he provided for you, but how could he not, especially when the comparisons were almost too perfect?

Even though he knew there was a difference between the cake and his cock, it was so easy to replace the two in his thoughts.

He was imagining you on your knees, tongue stretched out to taste his shaft with eager licks, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Your lips wrapped around his tip, licking and sucking up the precum spreading all throughout your mouth until you could finally swallow his whole length, your head bopping up and down, pleasing him to receive all of his "cream".

By the time he pulled himself out of his head, watching the seconds run by on his clock with no more than twenty minutes left until the party was supposed to take place, his cock was rock-hard and leaking into his underwear. You were a potent aphrodisiac and he should have known better than to indulge in the thoughts of you, but it was hard, considering he desired you more than he ever had anything before. Nothing would ever bring him as much joy as you would. You had long become his whole world, and he worshipped you like the deity you were.

It was absolutely impossible to look into your eyes without coming right then and there on the spot. Time was running out as every minute threatened with his guests' arrival, and now he had this extra challenge to take care of before this perfect day could commence.

Working quickly, he freed his imprisoned cock, his palm almost immediately slathered in pre-cum, lubricating him as he pumped it up and down. All he had to do was keep imagining you and all the things he had planned for when he'd finally get to claim you as his completely. His hand worked back and forth, and he thought about taking you to his bedroom after the party, you wanting to thank him in private for the invitation. You, in skimpy, pink lingerie, slowly undressing yourself. The thought of you stripping away your clothes until you were almost completely bared to his eyes was nearly enough to make him cum. However, his cock was a mean prick, still so hard and needy, even though he fed his mind the delicious imagery of you.

All he could do was keep going at this point, time ticking away as he scolded himself for not finishing up quicker. You, jerking him off instead, your soft hands working over his shaft, telling him how much you want him to fill you with his big cock. How you've dreamed of him taking you and moaning at the pure thought of it. His hips made a jump forward as he imagined the tip of his cock about to penetrate you, finding your soft, receptive hole waiting while you mewled and pushed back against him. It almost felt real how wet you were in his mind, almost as if...

Prying his eyes open, he looked down in horror at the smudge on the cake, his tip donning a cream hat, which would have almost been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. This cake was his masterpiece, and he just put his cock against it, almost completely ruining it!

"Shit, shit, shit," he mumbled, using his dirty hands to spread the buttercream down evenly where he had nudged it, the precarious state of his cock forgotten for a moment. It clearly looked like someone tampered with it, but at least it was uniform again. He'd simply take this piece so that no one would see.

Sighing, the stress fell off him again, his cock twitching below to remind him of what still needed his attention. Swiping off the cream from his tip, he licked it off his fingers, moaning at its sweetness. You'd enjoy it so much and savor every bite because he knew you liked the flavor. And it was all his doing.

Stroking his cock again, he eyed the smudged spot on the cake that he had ruined, imagining you eating something his dick touched. You'd never know, but you'd still enjoy it. There was barely anything more he could do to mark the cake, yet it drove him almost insane to think it was all his doing that made you enjoy it. If only there was something more. Something even clearer that marked you as his, other than just providing you with cake and a quick taste of his dick hurriedly covered by coating.

His pulse rose as he imagined his cum dripping down your lips, seeping into your skin. You, moaning as you tasted his jizz willingly, enjoying the taste mixed with the enormous amount of sugar from the cake. You'd never know what he did, never question it. No, instead, you'd be thankful and filled with his cum. You'd be marked as his by the smell of his cum and your willingness to consume it. No one could argue who you'd belong with while his batter was inside you.

With heavy breaths, he placed his tip back on the smudged cake spot. No one had to know. He could simply fix it again, and no one would notice the disgrace he did to this cake he'd present as his masterpiece.

Awfully slowly, with a loud groan, he pushed his tip inside the goods, followed by his shaft. The insides crumbled around him, welcoming him like he imagined you would. Sounds of pleasure erupted from the cake, the same wet squelching that was anticipated from any good hole.

One push, two. Everything was tight and yet softer than he had ever imagined. Immediately, the images returned to his mind—you, hungrily licking off the cake from his cock. It was all that was needed for the pressure to build. His thrusts grew sloppier as he snapped his hips forward. The cake threatened to slip away, so he grabbed the plate, making sure it would take his cock as it should. Another thrust, another loud moan as he imagined you arching your back and curling your toes, screaming as you were coming on his cock in your frilly lingerie, flushed with ecstatic pleasure only he could give you.

It was enough to send him over the edge, too.

He felt his cum burst into the cake, sloshing all around him and threatening to leak out. There was too much to absorb, but for a moment, he simply let himself enjoy the feeling of filling you to the brim. He'd have to clean up and get ready very quickly after this, so for a few blissful seconds, he let the shudders rush through him, listening to the screams and moans of yours that he could easily imagine just from his memories.

By the time he got a grip on himself, cum had already drooled out of the hole he made, adding an embarrassing stain against the white buttercream. He wiped off his cock quickly before putting it back inside his pants and grabbed some coating and fruits to fill up the hole he had created. In a moment of clarity, he realized how fucked-up this was, but the doorbell rang before he could decide not to serve his cum-filled cake to anyone and discard it.

As expected, everyone was awing and oohing at his efforts, their eyes going big at the sight of the cake. Embarrassment was an understatement for what he felt. It should have been pride, happiness, carefreeness. But knowing what lingered inside this cursed cake was too damning, too shameful, even for him.

And then, you arrived. Like an angel sent from heaven, with a little green package, whispering how you knew he didn't like the Valentine's fuss, so you made sure to be extra careful not to come close to the theme with your gift. Your heart was so good, your intentions so pure, and watching you light up as you saw the cake utterly broke his heart.

He wanted to, but couldn't. He definitely couldn't serve it to you.

The guests mingled, filling his apartment, as he began to dread every second of the party. You looked so natural, swaying your body through the room as if you already lived there. As if you were another host to the party, you handed out drinks and helped everyone to settle in. A sight to behold, that's what you were, fitting between all the decorations with how beautiful you were.

He should have been overjoyed by the sight of you acting so naturally in his home, playing his better half without even agreeing to go steady with him yet. But when everyone sat down at the table, ready to celebrate him, his mood crashed violently. Sweat collected on his forehead as he cursed the damn day, especially when you walked up to him, asking if he was alright and checking his temperature. You were so perfect, so sweet. So kind to offer to check on him. If only you could have touched him more, made him forget about all the other guests, and let him explore your body indefinitely in return. Of course, he quickly denied anything was wrong, instead inhaling your perfume, which left him light-headed. It made it easy for you to lead him to the table, sitting him down while you went to "take care of the rest" for him, and his guests kept him busy, talking and congratulating him, so he didn't see what you were doing in the kitchen.

At least not until you started bringing out slices of cake to everyone. He got the first one, topped with fruit, since it was his birthday. It was a beautiful piece from the top tier, and one by one, the cake was handed out. Gripping the chair he sat on hard, he watched as the cake slowly lost its height, piece by piece. Soon, only half of the bottom tier was left, and from his position, he couldn't see where you cut yourself a slice from. Maybe you'd miss the spot, and he could dispose of the rest quietly later. No one had to know, even if it was gross what he did to the cake either way.

But when you sat down next to him, smiling at him as you held up your plate, the color drained from his face when he noticed the change in cream consistency inside and the piece of fruit stuffed into the middle of the cake.

Jackpot.

Everyone sang him "Happy Birthday" while he sweated profusely, his eyes transfixed on your plate, but he didn't even notice or care. Clearing his throat, it was his time to make a small speech, but instead, he merely asked you to swap pieces since he had much more fruit on his, and it looked more delicious. You shook your head, holding your plate out of reach playfully before telling him firmly it was his birthday and he deserved the best piece. People chuckled and started digging in. Moans and compliments rang through the room, but he couldn't pry his eyes off your plate.

Using your fork, you stabbed it right into his cum, the fluids dripping off as you didn't seem to notice the difference from the cream. You lifted it to your mouth, opening wide, and so did his as he wanted to stop you, but no words rang out. Shame and hesitation held him back as he watched you consume the cum-filled cake with delight, humming appreciatively before gulping it down.

Heat filled his cheeks as he watched you take fork after fork of his surprise cake flavor, unaware of how he disgraced it. You were smiling and enjoying your cake thoroughly until you noticed he hadn't eaten a piece yet. With an innocent grin, you cut off some of yours, holding it out to him and prompting, "Open wide!"

And he did.

With his heart bursting out of his chest, your gesture too cute to withstand, while his stomach twisted as he tasted his own salty cum on your fork. But how could he not have been happy? Being fed by you, even if it was his own jizz that coated his tongue and not the sweet cream of the cake? It was a dream come true, and at this point, he would have eaten anything from your hand, he was sure. You were so happy, too, grinning from ear to ear and doing a happy little wiggle in your seat, not even thinking about the indirect cum-stained kiss you two just shared.

You were now fully, utterly his. However perverted and disgusting it was, it was the only thing he could think of. His pretty little partner, owning the place and him as if it always belonged to you. You had his heart in your hands, squeezing it with every smile and making it throb at the sound of your laughter. And not only had he satisfied your fondness for cake, but your belly was now also filled with his cum that you ate so willingly and eagerly. Of course, you didn't know, but you didn't even flinch at the change of taste you must have noticed at some point. If only that cum could have soaked all over you, spilled over your face and chest, and from your little hole that was probably waiting for his cock to fill it next.

He could have said something, ruined this moment and any chances of a relationship with you or any of his friends. But it was already too late, he reasoned. You already ate most of the piece, and he didn't have the heart to tell you what he did. It would be his little secret, although he did make sure that no one else got a dirty piece of cum-filled cake anymore. If anything, they had always been meant just for you. But as he ate his own cake, filling his mouth to the brim to get rid of the bad aftertaste, you leaned over.

"Happy birthday! And happy Valentine's!" you congratulated him, and all the panic and embarrassment simply fell off as he smiled back, thanking you after swallowing the cake. He was already thinking about what he could fill with his cum next for you to eat as he asked you out to have dinner with him soon. And you beamed up, none the wiser, agreeing immediately.

Best birthday ever.

#yandere valentine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere tw #yandere fanfiction #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere drabbles #yandere oneshot #yandere stories #yandere writing #yandere imagines

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cat48953notabot · 1 day ago

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Hi! Hello!! This is the hacker alt of somebody who follows you. I'm so sorry if this steps on your toes or anything, but I love a techy challenge (especially if it looks like it requires me downloading a bunch of random software I'll never use again). So. Yea :3c Did it!

What I did:

Download Jindrapetrik's jpexs decompiler (github.com/jindrapetrik/jpexs-decompiler) (Note: The unsaid but assumed "follow download instructions" step is especially important here. Don't get scared if they ask you to install Java, that's part of the process.)

Download flashpoint infinity

In Flashpoint, search for "my little pony equestria dance"

Look for My Little Pony Equestria Girls: Fall Formal Dance-Off

Download that (I don't think you need to actually open the game, but might as well)

Navigate to the game in your files (for me it was C:\Flashpoint\Data\Games). (Note: This was the first and only game I downloaded, so it was easy to know that it was the game I was looking for. If you have other games downloaded, order by date modified and look at the most recent one)

Copy the zip folder and bring it somewhere else (for me it was downloads)

Navigate to "content\littleponyjuegos.com\juegos\eg-dance-studio\asset\swf"

Pick a character (for me it was "RD"). Open it in jpexs

Go to the top section, click "Export all parts" (in the Export section). DON'T DOWNLOAD IT YET

Uncheck everything except for Sprites

Check "Export embedded assets"

Uncheck "Resample Wav"

CHECK "Ignore background color"

Zoom 300% (this increases quality drastically)

Click "OK"

Next to "Look in:", select the dropdown and navigate to wherever you want the frames to be saved

Click "Open"

Go to "gifmaker.me"

Click "Upload Images"

Navigate to where you saved your frames. Click that folder, and there are the individual frames of each dance, one dance per folder.

Upload all the contents of one folder (ctrl+A)

Animation Speed = 45 milliseconds

Create GIF Animation

Download the GIF

Repeat steps 18-24 for each dance (make sure to refresh the page each time)

Repeat steps 8-25 for each character

Autism is learning how to install adobe flash in 2025 because an old equestria girls flash game from 2013 had a cute animation in it and you wanted to make a transparent gif out of it and post it to tumblr but figured there must be a better way than screen recording and cutting the character out of every single frame in photoshop so you go into the game files expecting to find a webp file for the character animation but instead it's a shockwave flash file and you don't really know what that is so now you search the web for a way to open said file because you think you'll then be able to export the frames of the animation as png files and put the gif together from there. many hours later (it is 6am) I have now opened said file in flash and haha well let me tell you...

I AM TOO STUPID TO UNDERSTAND ANY OF THIS I WANT TO GO HOME I'M NOT MEANT TO BE HERE WHAT AM I DOING!?!?

#this is my hacker alt that I use so I can run programs and post links without getting my main tagged #I think the last time I pulled this out was to mass spam boops to all my mutuals <3 #my main is @go2jail1 though where I follow you for your epic and cool vibes :3 #so contact me there if you have any questions bcause I don't check this blog lol #This game is so cute!! I love mlp to bits so when I saw your rainbow dash gif my brain went “:D!!!!!”#That gif was the main motivation for doing this honestly #I wanted to at least check out the game and see what other custom animations they had :D #But I am maybe almost having the flu #and nursing a headache #but I didn't want to draw or go to sleep #so this was the next option lol #A lot of the ''step by step'' stuff is on the off chance that some poor soul four years from now is desperately searching and comes across #this #bcause I know I've been there before lol #I realized way too late that I may have been doing a bad thing by taking away your ability tolook up things and finish this project yoursel #so. sorry!!!!#but either way I hope you have a fantastic weekend :3c

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vampstarkey · 2 days ago

Text

◟sex with a gun

Masterlist 🪽

☆ warnings: gun play, neck tightness, daddy's kink, reader seems innocent but isn't, female masturbation, crying during sex, slaps on the thigh, thumb in the mouth, squirting, degradation, Rafe causes pain to the reader, mentions of somnophilia, Rafe calling the reader a "bunny" (I think that's all. I want to make it clear that it's all consensual, be warned)

☆ Note: honestly I was a little thoughtful before posting this fanfic theme, but I confess that I liked it, I ended up changing my writing style too, I hope you like it, bye.

You never thought Rafe would be able to use a gun on you, absolutely not, that idea was crazy and at no point had it crossed your mind to let him stick a gun inside your pussy, but you reconsidered that idea a little when he asked you for it, it was typical of Rafe to want things like that and you knew he would go crazy just to see you handed over to him as soon as you decided to accept, of course your boyfriend wouldn't force you to do anything that made you uncomfortable, but he kept insisting because he knew you well enough to know that deep down that idea made your panties soaked.

All you could think was that it was out of the question, after all they had never done anything like that before, a fear took over your thoughts, but it still seemed tempting, the danger was exciting, how could you simply say no to Rafe when he was right there with those eyes almost begging for a yes as an answer? You looked at the metallic gun on the table in the corner of the room while you closed your legs tightly. He found this situation funny and at the same time you could feel how his cock throbbed in your beach shorts just imagining bursting the walls of your tight pussy with the object in his hands.

— ☆ . .

Your body weight was completely thrown on the bed and your legs spread for the blonde. He stuck the gun in your wet pussy while he watched the scene of you writhing like a whore. Rafe stuck it so deep that you could feel the cold object touching your cervix. “Look how easily this goes inside you.” The contact of the gun with your pleasure point made a delicious wet noise to his ears. You gripped the white sheets tightly as you moaned in a daze. “Ray.. Please”

He smiled victoriously when he heard the desperation in your voice, with that scene before him, Rafe couldn’t control himself and squeezed his own cock over his shorts while his other hand quickly moved the metal object into your unit. “Is that what you want, huh? Ask daddy one more time like the good slut you are” The boy could feel himself sliding deeper and deeper into you.

“Yeaah, just like that, please don’t stop.” You said between moans that became louder and louder. You tried to keep your legs open for him, but you failed on impulse. Rafe was strong enough to grab your thighs, preventing you from closing them for him. “This is what you need. I make you feel so good, bunny.” Tears streamed down your face as you whimpered, feeling the sensation invade your insides. “My naughty girl is so needy. I’m going to need to make you cum really good.” The way he spoke and looked at you made you a little embarrassed, and honestly, he found it sweet and adorable in you.

Your pussy was dripping, smearing almost every weapon that came out and entered with agile movements inside. Without a doubt, Rafe would want to see you in this state once more, hundreds of times if possible. “Pretty girl.” Rafe brought his hands up to your neck, squeezing it tightly, still thrusting the object with greater force now. He could feel how hot your body was, reacting to everything he did. The excitement only increased as your boyfriend pounded deep, your eyes were crying as if they were begging for more.

“Crying like a little bitch, daddy is going to have to hurt you and I know you like it.” Rafe continued to choke you with skill, fascinated by every expression you made. In his eyes, you looked delicious like that. It was a perdition to see you with your mouth open, moaning and writhing like that without panties, just with a pair of white socks that went up to your knees.

You felt a present discomfort and it hurt a little the way he pushed the gun inside you, but as painful as it was, you were enjoying the pain and pleasure that mixed together. Your own fingers quickly ran to your clitoris, massaging it a little clumsily. “Does it hurt, bunny?” Rafe stared at your pussy as he bit his lip. “Yes, it hurts, daddy.” Your head bobbed in agreement, your legs began to shake too much, Rafe knew how close you were to cumming right now and he fucking loved it.

You were a seemingly shy and innocent girl to other people, but Rafe knew how naughty you became for him when he made you horny. It wasn't very difficult to turn you on. The living proof of this was the way you were, so wet, so surrendered, he was on the verge of collapse. "This pussy is mine, bunny." A hoarse growl left Rafe's lips. He had come in his own shorts just by seeing you contracting and pulsing against his gun.

Rafe's hand left your neck, then he brought his thumb into your mouth, making you suck it. The blond's thumb muffled your moans. You stared at him sucking on your finger while your cheeks flushed with lust and a slight shyness. Your own fingers stopped moving against your clit, grabbing Rafe's wrist with the hand he had stuck his thumb in your lips.

“Next time I want you to let me wake you up by fucking you right here.” Your moans were getting louder and louder in the room. Rafe turned the gun inside you, causing spasms and goosebumps to appear on your skin. “Ray..” Your eyes rolled back, you felt like you were going to explode, your liquid dripped down the metal of the gun and into Rafe’s hand. “What a hot pussy, you dirty bitch, I’m going to finish you off.”

Rafe took his thumb out of your mouth and slapped your inner thigh hard, squeezing and playing with the soft area. “But that’s not a problem for you, is it? After all, you like being treated like a dirty bitch.” Rafe couldn’t help but laugh at that naughty expression he had and that you knew very well.

“I like it, I like it a lot.” The slap made you jump slightly from the bed, the voice that came out of your lips was slurred, almost as if you were struggling to speak in the midst of that delicious situation. “Then cum, bunny, cum now..” Rafe said in a tone of authority that made you shiver, he was now going faster than usual, you were wetting his hand without any difficulty, you were almost there..

Your legs opened even more and to help you reach orgasm, Rafe massaged your clitoris quickly. He rubbed it with desire, you brought your hand to your mouth to muffle your moans, but he quickly removed it. “No, no, no, I want to hear you scream.” Your hips began to move desperately against the metal object inside your pussy.

Rafe finally felt your orgasm coming, quickly wetting everything. “Fuck, Rafe.” you screamed his name as you squirted, wetting the bed along with the gun that was still inside you. “Yeah, very good, girl.” The blond slowly removed the object from inside you, throwing it on the small table in the room as he approached your side, seeing you completely exhausted.

Drops of sweat ran down your forehead and he wiped them away, then tucked your hair behind your ear. “Are you very tired?” His hands caressed your head. “Yes, quite.” Seeing your state, Rafe pulled you by the waist and made you sit on his lap. “Tired enough that you can’t help me by getting on your knees for me?” You quickly understood what he meant by that. No matter how tired you were, you would help him relieve himself anyway, so there you were on your knees, waiting to suck your man’s cock while he stood in front of you.

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beardedjoel · 1 day ago

Note

💗🎉💗CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR MILESTONE!💗🎉💗

I’m so happy for you! I found you through Closer, and I couldn’t be happier about it. You’re an amazing writer and such a lovely person!

I’m wondering… what about one of these?🌹the prompt number 1. I love your writing and I cannot stop myself from asking. Perhaps with Joel, or Frankie, or Pero…I’m not picky, I’ll be happy with whatever the inspiration leads you.

Alsooooo… Is it too much if I add a little bit of 💌? I’m curious about your writing process. How do you do it? Is it linear, or do you jump around, and later “paste it”?

wym, you're so sweet and i love sharing this space with you my friend 😘 thank you for sending in this prompt and allowing me to do something special with it. thanks for your patience as i have been painstakingly slow with making my way through this backlog of requests! i'll answer your thoughtful writing question at the very bottom of the post after the one shot, if that's alright!

axel and ember — joel x f!reader

request: "overwhelmed, but happy crying during sex". sent in as part of my 5k celebration! i decided to use this one for something very personal to me. as someone who has dealt with vaginismus, this was challenging to write the last few days but it felt like the right direction for me to go in with this prompt. in no way does this describe the experience every person with vaginismus has (nor 100% true to mine), and it is a lot of hard work to help your body and mind learn to work with the sexual obstacles that come with it. i simplified things for the purpose of this story but still found it really gratifying to write so much from personal experience and feelings that i have dealt with. i highly encourage anyone who has not heard of vaginismus to do a little research as it's something that many, many women deal with in silence or is ignored as much of women's sexual health is. happy reading 💓

wc: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader has vaginismus, unprotected piv

“Maybe… maybe it just doesn’t fit.”

You’d said the words, exasperated after trying for the third time that week.

“I don’t think that’s how that works, darlin’,” Joel teases the words playfully, his hair hanging down into his face as he holds himself perched above you. His smile brusquely fades when he sees that you’re genuinely upset. Some days, it hadn’t been that big of a deal, you’d been able to shrug off the frustration. Today, however, you felt frayed and emotional, pissed off that your body couldn’t just behave like a normal body should. It’s infuriating, living in a body that won’t cooperate with your mind, seeing others do with ease what you never could. What you could only have as a fantasy.

“Hey, it’s alright.” He leans down, kissing you softly before moving from where he’d been stationed on top of you to lay at your side.

Another dream of finally having sex with your boyfriend tonight slipped away in an instant.

“What if I try the dilators again?” you ask desperately, meeting Joel’s gaze. His warm eyes look back at yours with empathy, and he shrugs.

“If y’want. But maybe you should jus’ rest. We already had our fun, yeah?”

He’d gotten you off, you’d gotten him off. Fingers and tongues and mouths, which admittedly were great, but you craved to know what more of him felt like, more than just the one, sometimes two fingers you could handle without soon wincing in discomfort.

You wanted him inside of you, wanted your bodies joined in the way that you were so cruelly being denied by the universe.

“N-no, you’re right. It was fun.” You flash him a somewhat forced smile, grateful for his patience and love when he wraps his arms around you. Joel had been such a constant with you, so wonderful, and that only made it hurt more that you couldn’t give him this. He’d never pressured you, never made you feel at fault these last five months you’d been dating. In some ways, it had brought you closer, not being able to rush into sex, but it didn’t mean that he’d stick around forever if it meant he couldn’t get the one thing you know men always want.

“We’re gonna get it one of these days,” he reassures you, stroking your hair. “You’re workin’ hard at your sessions and here at home. Don’t tell you enough that I think it’s great, seein’ you tryin’ all of that. But don’t do it for me, okay? Do it ‘cause it’s what you want.”

You stare at him for a moment, dumbfounded. You were of course doing all of this work for yourself, so that you could freely enjoy something that should come so naturally to your body. Yet you knew that deep down the pressure was mounting, wanting to give Joel the sexual satisfaction you assumed he craved, something that your hands and mouth couldn’t give him. It was putting up a block between you and your sexuality, making each interaction that much more strained and distressing. You’re surprised Joel caught on to all of that when you’d been trying to put on a brave face for him.

“I - I know,” you concede with a sigh. “I’m afraid sometimes. That I’ll never be enough without this piece of me.”

Joel’s deep set brow furrows further, looking hurt - for you or for himself, you can’t quite tell. His lips set into a firm line before they part, readying to speak. “I think you’re pretty damn amazing the way that y’are. I want that for us, ‘course I do. But I’d rather jus’ have you, whatever, however you are.”

“You would?” you ask sentimentally, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. You laugh slightly, wiping under your eyes, knowing your question is ridiculous but still needing that extra validation that he’s sure. That he’s okay continuing to try this with you, even if it never results in anything.

“Yes, silly. Why do you think I’ve kept you around all this time?”

“‘Cause I find us all the good TV shows to watch?”

He laughs, his burly chest shaking with it. “Quit bein’ a pest, I’m tryin’ to be serious with you,” he quips back, trying and failing to hold back his chuckle.

“I know. I know what you’re saying, Joel. I -“ You swallow, your face falling, pulled back into the seriousness of the moment. “I appreciate you. So, so much.” You reach and wrap your arms tightly around him. You relish in the feeling of being close to him, your naked bodies melding together, the heater-like quality of Joel always comforting to you.

“You’re all the good in this relationship, baby.”

“Who’s being a pest now?” You flick his chest, sending the both of you into a fit of laughter again, giddy at the late hour and the tax of this evening leaving you emotionally spent.

The voice deep inside your mind taunts you as you slowly listen to Joel falling asleep next to you, his breath falling to a rhythmic pattern interlaced with tiny, endearing snores. You hold back tears that come in the dark, feeling so small and alone in this moment, knowing that despite his reassurances, he could never truly understand how this feels for you.

The next few weeks go by with much of the same - you’re busy with life, work, friends, and going to your physical therapy sessions. It was awkward at first all those months ago, laying there bare underneath the sheet while a woman practically had half her hand inside of you, but you got used to it, even started to look forward to hearing about her life and her kids.

You and Joel try a few more times to no avail, your body once seeming to have a breakthrough before promptly making you inhale sharply in pain, shaking your head dejectedly.

You try to let it go, let all of it go. Learn that life doesn’t surround this, it simply can’t if you don’t want this pressure, this hole in your heart that you think you need to fill, to eat you alive. This cannot mean that you’re broken, that nobody could want to be with someone born with their factory settings just a little bit off.

You see it on Joel’s face and in his demeanor, proudly taking note of the change within you. You start to pounce on him every chance you get, fueled by trying to feed this new, insatiable mental freedom you’ve allowed yourself. If you couldn’t have the sex you were dreaming of just yet, you figured that in the meantime you may as well make the sex you are having something new to dream about.

Joel, as predicted, is highly receptive to your new outlook, hands and lips all over you more often than not the second you step through his door to spend the night with him. You find yourself laughing with him when you’re being intimate instead of focusing on that pit in your stomach that worries if this time could finally be the time. You’ve done away with taking it far too seriously to even enjoy when your gracious boyfriend is buried between your legs like it’s his favorite thing. Now, you can appreciate all of it for what it is - a way to connect with Joel, to share something special and fun and sexy together.

You lie in bed with Joel this evening, cackling as you two take turns narrating excerpts from a friend’s most recent read in the romance department that she’d lent you. For inspiration, she’d teased, saying it might help your mind and body become more open to connecting with one another on the topic of sex. You’d taken it with a grain of salt but now it was the evening's top entertainment. You had to admit that she had a point - it did feel nice to read about characters that were so sexually open that anything seemed possible for them.

“The people in these books are unreal,” you manage to get out through your laughter, wiping the stream of tears that coats your cheeks. Joel wipes at the corners of his own eyes, still chuckling.

“Wouldn’t mind givin’ some of these a try one of these days, bet you’d be sexy flipped upside down or whatever the hell they were doin’,” Joel says, propped up on his elbow, his handsome eyes smoldering in your direction. The implication that many of the acts the fictional couple are doing involves things that your body hasn’t been cooperating enough to even go near makes you stiffen for a moment. Maybe a month ago, the comment would have wrecked you, sent you spiraling or feeling self conscious about this perceived insufficiency of yours, but now you let it slide right off your back.

You scrunch your nose at him, letting it fall into a sly smile as he flicks his eyes over you in appreciation. “Shush,” you tease. “We need to find out what happens next to… whatever their names are.” This had all been in good fun, and their names seemed secondary to the juicy details of their sex lives.

“Axel and Ember.” Joel cuts in, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You deadpan. “Right… Someone has been paying attention.”

“Go on, then…” Joel insists with sass, his hand motioning expectantly to the open book in your lap. You smirk before focusing on the page and continuing where you left off. You two read until both of your eyelids get heavy, the words muttered slower and slower, your bodies buzzing hotly with arousal from the content yet far too tired to do anything to make a move on the other person.

“Tomorrow,” Joel utters in your ear just as you’re moving into that cozy, floaty, drifting sensation before it all goes black. “Tomorrow I’m gonna Axel your ass into oblivion.”

You’re awoken by a kiss, feather light upon your lips. Your lids flutter open to see Joel, his scruffy beard and unbearably cute bed head up close and personal with you. It’s barely light out, the room bathed in the pale blue glow that comes right before dawn. Your skimpy camisole strap has slid off your shoulder, the entire thing askew and leaving one of your tits bared to him. Joel’s eyes seem to be glued there before flicking back and forth between your now perky nipple and your face. His lips close around it, gently sucking, and you writhe, your body turning towards his.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he mutters against your hot skin, breath ghosting over your sensitive nipple. You shudder, your skin prickling with anticipation, the space between your thighs desperately empty. Going to bed so unsatisfied seemed to have done a number on the both of you as you’re now acutely aware Joel pressing up against you, his cock already hard and leaking.

“Joel…” you whine, hips bucking towards him.

He dives in, his lips devouring yours, shifting his body to straddle yours, grasping the sides of your face in his hands. His tongue laps into your mouth and you arch your back into the way his hips start to grind into yours, burning desire low in your belly. You’re already so damn wet from his teasing, more than you’ve ever been, built up longing spilling over from last night.

“I… want to try right now,” you finally manage to gasp out as his lips separate from yours for a brief second. He pauses, looking down at you, his heavy lidded eyes sincere as they dance over your features.

“You sure? It’s okay if we jus’ -”

“No. I’m sure,” you tell him. “I feel so good. I want to feel good with you.” Your fingers dig into his bare back, urging him on.

He only nods, his throat bobbing as he swallows. He places gentler kisses on your lips before moving to your neck, then down your body until he reaches the waistband of your sleep shorts. Tugging those down along with your panties, he moves with certainty and care, adoring your soft skin in every place along the way.

He touches a gentle finger to your slit, so sensitive and swollen now, and you suck in a breath.

“Holy shit. God damn, baby,” he muses with awe, fire burning in his dark eyes.

You chuckle shakily, feeling your cheeks flush as you avert your eyes shyly. “I - I know. I need you.”

“Can practically feel her puslin’,” he growls, licking his lips, desire clouding his mind.

Your cheeks only grow hotter at his dirty words, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Taking a page from Axel’s book, I see,” you tease him breathily.

“Nah. This is all Joel Miller, baby,” he replies just as he uses his whole hand to cup your slick cunt, the both of you groaning quietly. Joel starts to shimmy his briefs down, leaving him completely stripped underneath the covers with you. You wait for him to climb back on top of you, carefully removing your top and taking you in.

“Perfect.” He smiles, and you wrap your legs around his waist, a silent signal that you’re ready. Joel reaches between your bodies, bringing his cock to your cunt, lazily moving it through the folds until he’s coated in your arousal, each stroke making your hips buck, your need climbing to an unbearable level.

“Please…” you whine, feeling the emptiness inside of you, craving that full sensation you’ve been romanticizing time and time again in your mind.

“I got you, baby. No matter what. I’m right here, ‘kay?” You feel him line himself up, trying to manage your expectations as you nod for him, swallowing down your nerves. Even if it doesn’t work this time, it’ll be okay, you’ll be oka -

The tip of his cock pushes past your entrance, and you gasp, eyes going wide. You both pause, staring at each other in an optimistic, full silence, breathing heavily.

You nod again, mouth agape. “More…” you whisper softly, taking a deep breath, trying to relax your body.

Joel smiles, pressing his hips into you the tiniest bit more. He still slides in with ease, the smallest pinch subsiding when he takes a beat, then pushes a little more, repeating the process a few times. You feel the stretch, the slight burn as your body adjusts, your mind racing at the miracle that’s occurring, barely even able to register it right now.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, starting to shake. Joel leans down to kiss you, a comforting move, but it only pushes his cock in another bit, making you gasp softly at the fullness.

To your shock, when he pulls back the sensation begins to near something pleasurable. “Sorry,” he quickly spits out, his concerned stare meeting yours.

“No. It’s good. A-again. Do that again.” You start to smile in earnest, a toothy grin that you can’t help but feel spread across your face.

“What… this?” he asks coyly, more overt with the thrust inwards as he pulls his lips into yours. He buries his face in your neck, breathing you in and kissing the sensitive skin there. “You’re so wet, so fuckin’ tight, baby. You feel incredible.”

You shudder underneath him, moaning softly as his words travel right to your core, burning with a new kind of eagerness you’ve never felt before. “You feel so good,” you echo back to him as you pant.

Joel starts to move, testing the waters with slow, steady movements. You keep breathing, terrified that any minute the ball will drop or this will have been a dream or some cruel trick your body is playing on you. But the sporadic bursts of discomfort subside with each new roll of Joel’s hips, blooming into something pleasurable and sweet, pulling up from deep inside of you.

Emotion bubbles to the surface before you can even tame it, your eyes brimming with tears when Joel bottoms out inside of you, pulling back and pushing in to the hilt again. It feels good, amazing even, to be so full of him, to celebrate this victory, even if only for today.

“Shit. Sweetheart, you’re okay, right? Are you hurting?” Joel freezes when he sees your watery eyes, every muscle coiled stiffly, his face screwed up in fear.

You shake your head, fighting the urge to sob, but Joel’s faithful, genuine concern puts you over the edge. Tears spill, rolling down your cheeks in profound little streaks, every bit of your frustration and pain and anger from the last half of a year pouring out into this beautiful display of pure joy.

“I swear, I’m happy, I’m happy,” you cry out, immediately cradled in Joel’s arms.

“Good,” Joel breathes out in relief. “You’re happy, I’m the happiest fuckin’ guy in the world.”

His words make the tears flow faster, but you start to laugh amidst it all. “Stop making me cry harder!” you chastise him, hugging him tightly around the neck.

“Joel…” you say after a long, tender embrace, the two of you soaking it in. His cock still throbs inside of you, reminding you of the pleasure you’d started to chase moments ago, lost to the emotion of the moment.

“Hm?” he asks, pulling his head from where it had been buried in the crook of your to look at you.

“Please fuck me now.”

He grins, the movement lighting up his entire face with a lusty glow before he eagerly crashes his lips with yours again. When you see his eyes again, you swear they’re a shade darker, his cheeks tinged with the color of desire. Low and gravelly, he finally speaks.

“Grab your god damned vibrator, sweetheart.”

to answer your 💌 my writing process is a little all over the place! i used to write mostly linearly, that was what worked for me and i kind of thought of everything in order. but lately i have been doing a bit more doc hopping when i get stuck. maybe writing a later scene that i have ideas for and feel like it's more fleshed out or going back and polishing older paragraphs and such. i definitely am not a big outliner and plotter, which i'd like to get better about! but mostly everything just lives in my head and gets blobbed onto the doc once i have time to write it, which sometimes leaves things forgotten hehe

(divider by @/saradika-graphics!)

#julie's 5k celebration #julie's 5k celebration fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #x reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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lyn31 · 21 hours ago

Text

Zayne Immediate Disorder (Extended) ✨Extra✨

Summary:

Want a more details scene of what happen after Zayne's chains broke and he push you to the floor? Then look no further than this short extended chapter! It will cure your horny-ness! or make it worse, who know...

Part 1

CW: Feral behavior, light dom/sub, rough sex, oral sex, multiple sex positions.

Ao3 link

Notes:

Yeahh, yeahhh, what can I say, I saw that post on the tumblr by @littleglutton they said and I quote "if you haven't thought of feral, messy, desperate Zayne making you ride him while he sits there like a crazed king, you're a fucking LIAR." And again... what can I say? ahahahahahaha Oh and ofc Valentine day.... what a timing LOL

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“You can never… leave me,” he murmurs, his voice rough and unsteady as his lips brush over yours.

The kiss starts slow, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. The pressure between you—too much, too overwhelming after everything that’s led to this moment—pushes you both into something more. The kiss deepens, urgent and desperate, a clash of lips and tongues as you both crave the release that’s been building.

His hands tighten on your waist, pulling you closer, his body molding to yours as your mouths crash together again and again, hungry for more. Your hips instinctively grind against him, a steady rhythm driven by raw need, and the weight of his body above you only fuels the urgency. The heat, the tension, the desire—every inch of him presses you against the floor, every movement igniting a fire that spreads through your body.

Zayne’s fingers trail down your spine, gripping your hips harder, holding you in place as he pushes you into him with more force, guiding your grinding motion with growing urgency. You can feel the heat radiating between you, the pulse of desire making every second more intense than the last, every touch heightening the ache that has taken over you both.

Breathless, Zayne breaks the kiss, his forehead pressing against yours as he struggles for control. His chest heaves, his eyes burning with hunger. His hands grip your thighs, fingers digging in as he guides you—slowly at first, then with growing intensity—until his lips crash against yours, fierce and unrelenting.

Zayne's grip tightens, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. Your legs wrap around his waist, your bodies moving in a frantic, desperate rhythm. His erection presses hard against you, the friction igniting a fire that leaves you gasping. His lips never leave yours—hungry, demanding, each kiss rougher, driven by the tension teetering on the edge of control.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he grunts, his forehead resting against yours, breath mingling between you, ragged and heavy with desire.

A smirk tugs at your lips as you shift your hips, teasing him further, the friction building between you both. A flicker of nerves twists in your stomach, but it’s quickly drowned out by the rush of adrenaline and the heat coursing through you. You can feel his muscles tightening, his restraint slipping as your teasing ignites a fire in him. Zayne’s grip tightens on your thighs, his body tense with the effort to hold back. A deep grunt rumbles in his chest, and his eyes darken with desperation. His mouth trails down to your neck, then to your chest, the heat of his breath making your skin prickle with anticipation.

Your breath catches, a shiver rolling through you as heat coils low in your stomach, tightening the tension between you until it’s almost unbearable.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as his mouth presses over the hardened peak of your breast through the fabric. Your body arches into him, instinct taking over. His tongue flicks over the material, each stroke sending a wave of heat through you, leaving your chest tight with need. The sensation is overwhelming—almost too much—but still not enough. You crave more, your hands trembling as you fight the urge to tear away the barrier between you.

“Take it off...” The words spill from you, breathless and raw. “I need to feel your skin against mine.”

His eyes meet yours, blazing with intensity. His fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, breath ragged as he pauses for only a heartbeat. You can see it in his eyes—he’s on the edge of tearing it off—but somehow restrains himself, jaw clenching as he fights for control.

Instead, Zayne peels each layer of fabric from your body in frantic, hurried motions. His fingers tremble slightly, his need barely contained as he drags the fabric over your skin. Each piece falls away faster than the last, his breath hitching with every inch of exposed skin. When the final layer hits the floor, a deep, guttural sound escapes him. His hands grip your waist possessively, and his mouth is on you immediately, lips and teeth claiming every inch of your bare skin with raw urgency.

The heat between you intensifies, every touch, every caress making you shiver with anticipation. You feel the roughness of Zayne’s hands as they skim over your body, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. His lips find your hardened peak again, this time skin on skin, his mouth hot and insistent. His tongue flicks and circles with deliberate precision, sending a rush of pleasure through you that steals your breath.

A sharp gasp tears from your throat, your body jolting at the sudden intensity. The sensation is overwhelming, almost too much, but you can’t stop yourself from arching into him. Your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping tightly as the need for more consumes you. You pull him closer, desperate, the hunger between you raw and undeniable.

Zayne’s mouth moves lower, his body pressing into yours with each movement. The friction between you, the pressure of him against you, makes your pulse race, your breaths coming faster. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as his lips trail down your stomach, each kiss slow and purposeful, his tongue tracing along the curve of your skin. His kisses grow more demanding, more urgent, as if he can’t get enough of you—his lips leaving a trail of heat, his body claiming you in ways that leave you gasping for more.

But even in this heat, his restraint flickers, just for a moment. His gaze locks onto yours, dark with need, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. "Don't hold back," you say, your voice rough with desire, thick with the hunger you've been trying to keep at bay. "Show me… take what you want."

That’s all it takes. Zayne’s control slips, his body shifting with a ferocity that matches the heat between you. With a low grunt, he slides down your body, leaving a trail of heated kisses, each one making your skin burn for more. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart with a sense of purpose, exposing you to him, his breath hot against your skin as he moves lower.

His eyes are dark and untamed, locked onto yours, raw hunger painted across his face. Your pulse races, every inch of you alive with anticipation. He doesn’t waste a second before his lips press to the sensitive skin just above your core. A low, guttural grunt escapes his chest as his tongue flicks out, tasting, teasing. The sensation is dizzying, sending waves of need coursing through your body. Your back arches involuntarily at the touch, desperate for more.

Zayne pulls back for just a moment, his eyes never leaving yours, his breath ragged. "You taste incredible," he mutters, his voice thick with desire, sending another shiver down your spine. His hands tighten on your thighs as he leans in again, not waiting for any further invitation.

His mouth is back on you—hot, wet, demanding. Zayne's tongue slides between your folds, exploring, teasing, and you gasp, your body trembling from the intensity of his touch. Every flick, every press of his tongue makes your core burn with a need that drives you wild. Your hands, desperate for something to grasp, scrape along the floor beneath you, seeking something to steady yourself as Zayne’s mouth makes you squirm, every sensation taking you higher. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place, forcing you to endure the pleasure that’s too much and never enough at the same time.

Each flick of his tongue drives you closer to the edge, making your body quiver with anticipation. His mouth doesn’t leave you for a second, his tongue working with skillful precision, drawing pleasure from you in waves. Your back arches, gasps escaping your lips, your body trembling beneath him as the buildup grows and grows.

Zayne is relentless, knowing exactly how to make you feel, how to push you to the edge but never quite letting you fall off it just yet. You’re close, so close—your body shaking as you feel the tightness in your core building. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you pull him closer, needing him deeper. You’re torn between wanting him to stop, to give you a breath, and urging him to push further, deeper into that spot that drives you wild.

You let out a strained, breathless whimper, caught in the tension of it all. Every touch, every flick, is bringing you to the edge. You can feel it, the almost unbearable tightness, the desperate need to let go.

With one final, skillful flick of his tongue, you break. Your body convulses beneath him, and a loud cry of his name escapes your lips, the release crashing through you in waves. Zayne doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down—his tongue still works you through it, drawing out every last drop of pleasure from you, as if he can’t get enough of the taste of you. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you steady as he drags you through the last lingering tremors of your orgasm, his hunger never wavering.

When you finally come down from the high, gasping for air, Zayne pulls back for just a second, his eyes watching you, dark with hunger. The contrast between the soft, sweet moment after your climax and the raw need in his gaze sends a thrill through you, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath.

But before you can fully recover, Zayne is on you again, his hands gripping your waist and lifting you slightly as he positions himself between your legs. The urgency is back—unrestrained, a primal need driving him forward. He thrusts into you with a grunt, filling you in one powerful motion.

You gasp, your body still trembling from the aftermath of your release, but his thrusts are already rough and frantic, as if he can’t wait another second. His hands dig into your hips, pulling you closer to him as his rhythm quickens. There’s no gentleness, no pause—just raw, desperate need crashing through you both.

“Mine,” Zayne grunts, his voice low and guttural as he pushes deeper. His thrusts grow harder, faster, his body demanding more, and the intensity of it makes you gasp, your nails scraping his back as the pleasure builds again, sharper, fiercer than before.

But even in the heat of it all, Zayne doesn’t slow down. He tightens his grip on you, pulling you forward roughly, shifting your bodies with a force that makes your breath catch. Without missing a beat, he shifts you both toward the chair behind him, guiding your hips with expert precision. It’s quick, seamless—the movement like a demand, making sure you stay with him, every inch of you locked in his control.

Before you can fully process it, he pulls you into his lap, your legs straddling him, facing him directly. His hands stay on your hips, guiding you as the heat of his erection pulses between you, demanding.

“You’re going to ride me,” Zayne murmurs against your neck, his voice thick with need, a teasing smile curving at the corner of his lips. “Show me how bad you want it.” There's a deeper edge to his words, a quiet promise of payback for all the teasing, but the challenge is lighter—still hungry, still fierce.

You shift your hips slightly, trying to take control, but Zayne’s grip tightens on you, holding you firmly in place. His eyes flash with a mix of hunger and something darker, but there's an edge of restraint, as if he's letting you try. But it doesn’t last long. Zayne grunts low, his voice rough as he locks eyes with you. “Not so fast,” he breathes, the control slipping from him as he gives in. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You can feel the shift in his power, like the moment the floodgates open. Zayne starts to roll his hips up against you, slow and deliberate, but with each movement, it’s clear—he’s taking control, forcing you to feel every inch of him. His grip on your hips tightens with each movement, his breath growing shallow as the tension between you builds, and you can’t help but meet him halfway, craving more.

“You’re going to do this my way, darling,” he mutters, the weight of his words pressing down on you. The need in his voice matches your own, raw and unrelenting.

You attempt to move again, testing his control, but he presses you down harder, his strength overwhelming. A playful grunt escapes his lips, the sound thick with authority. “You think you can handle it?” Zayne’s eyes gleam with wicked amusement. “Because right now, you’re mine. Every inch of you… is mine.”

His words wash over you, a slow heat unfurling deep in your core, making your breath catch. Your pulse quickens at the possessiveness in his tone. You try to move again, but it’s no use—he’s already pulling you into his rhythm, his hands digging deeper into your hips, forcing you to match his pace. His thrusts grow more deliberate, harder, and your body responds to him instinctively, your own need igniting in a flash.

“Don’t stop,” he demands, his voice thick and ragged, the sound sending heat straight to your core. His grip tightens even further, his hips snapping up harder, faster. The desperation in his movements is impossible to ignore—each thrust more desperate than the last, pushing you both to the edge.

You cry out at the force of his movements, your hands desperately grabbing at his hair, pulling him toward you, needing to kiss him, to feel his mouth on yours. But Zayne doesn’t let up, his grip on your waist unrelenting, driving into you deeper with each thrust. The sensation overwhelms you, your body trembling as your moans escape uncontrollably.

His thrusts grow even more urgent, his body pressing into yours, and you cry out again, the intensity making your body jerk against his. With a low growl, Zayne cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin just before his lips descend on yours, claiming you in a kiss that’s as intense as his movements. The kiss is deep and desperate, his mouth hard against yours as his tongue slips past your lips, exploring you with a raw hunger that matches the urgency of his thrusts.

You meet him halfway, your own tongue tangling with his in a heated, almost frantic exchange. His kiss is possessive, each movement telling you he can’t get enough of you—his lips pressing harder, demanding more as if he’s trying to swallow you whole. Your hands reach for him instinctively, one threading into his hair, tugging him closer, deepening the kiss, while the other slides down his back, feeling the tense muscles under his skin, pulling him against you with every thrust.

Zayne’s hand moves down your body with purposeful ease, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak of your chest before giving it a teasing pinch. You gasp into the kiss, your chest bouncing with the force of his movements as your body follows the rhythm of his thrusts. He smiles against your lips, drinking in each sound you make, his other hand gripping your waist tightly, guiding your hips to match his desperate pace.

The pressure of his hands, the way his body forces yours to move in time with him, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Your chest rises and falls with every motion, the bounce of your body following his rhythm. Zayne’s lips switch between leaving a heated trail across your skin and capturing yours in deep, demanding kisses. He pauses between kisses to watch—the way your body moves, riding him with desperate, aching need, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips part with every breathless moan—his eyes dark with hunger. The sight of you like this, taking him so perfectly, ruins him. Every shift, every desperate cry that escapes your lips only makes him crave more, making him push harder, faster, each thrust driving you closer to the edge with a hunger that refuses to be satisfied.

The taste of him, the heat of his mouth, sends another wave of desire crashing through you. You break the kiss only for a second to gasp for air, your fingers still tangled in his hair, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his hands move to your body with desperation. Your lips are back on his in an instant, needy and breathless, as if neither of you can get enough of the other.

“Ugh… you feel too good,” Zayne groans, his voice strained as he buries himself deeper inside you. His lips find the tender skin of your neck, sucking harshly, and you throw your head back, the sharp pull of his mouth driving you wild. Before you can catch your breath, his thrusts grow more relentless—faster, harder, more urgent. The interrogation chair creaks beneath you both, the sound of strained wood blending with the feverish rhythm between you.

Your fingers still tangle in his hair, gripping tightly as you brace yourself against the force of his thrusts. Every movement knocks you off balance, but you don’t care—you want more. You pull him closer, desperate for the feeling of him filling you completely, even as the intensity threatens to consume you.

His breath hitches in your ear, rough and desperate. “Yes, just like that,” he groans, his pace unrelenting. Then, as his body tenses with another rough thrust, his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of your neck. It’s not hard enough to break skin, but the bite sends a jolt of pain and pleasure through you, tearing a scream from your lips.

Your back arches, the rush of sensation amplifying everything—the heat, the tension, the overwhelming need. His thrusts only intensify, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he guides you to match his frantic rhythm.

You’re lost in him now, in the way his body moves with such raw need. The world narrows to this moment, each second dragging you closer to the edge until, finally, you both fall together. Zayne’s release collides with yours, his body stiffening beneath you as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you.

For a moment, neither of you move, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. Zayne’s hand drifts up to your cheek, his touch light but deliberate, as if savoring the moment. His thumb traces a slow path across your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.

Your breath catches again, your eyes fluttering closed as his touch lingers—not quite letting go, not quite finished. Like a promise of something more, waiting just beneath the surface.

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Notes:

Want something a bit more subtle from this card/story, the build up to this explosive tension? if you didnt already see part 1, it's here

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