#like hello?????? the desperation????? what??????

[elikajinnie]

hello!! may i request a drabble or a spin off from forbidden taste!heeseung with his reaction or thoughts after taking the antidote for amortentia? and also how he’s desperate to find y/n and why she’s avoiding him for days? 🤭 thank you!! i luv a desperate man 😩

a/n: you may :3 i LOVED seeing this in my inbox when i woke up! And we do all indeed love a desperate man ;)

Warnings: ehm, a desperate man basically?

The fic in question --> click here

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Heeseung was angry—no, he was livid. The moment the effects of the Amortentia wore off, his mind cleared like a storm breaking apart, and the first thing he thought of was you. Where were you? Why weren’t you there? He had searched and searched, every corridor and corner he could think of, but you were nowhere to be found.

It didn’t help that Yoonhee had been trailing after him, clinging to his arm, tears streaming down her face as she apologized profusely. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far! It was stupid—I know it was stupid, Heeseung, I’m so sorry!”

But Heeseung knew better. He could see right through her feigned remorse. The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t sorry for what she did—she was sorry she got caught. His patience, already paper-thin, finally snapped. He shoved her off and hissed, “Stay away from me,” before marching straight to a professor and reporting her. He didn’t wait to see the consequences unfold; he couldn’t care less. There were far more important things to deal with.

Like finding you.

You, who had been conspicuously absent through it all. You, who he hadn’t seen since after the Amortentia’s haze vanished. A knot of worry had formed in his chest, twisting tighter with every second that passed without an answer. He stormed into the courtyard, seeking out your housemates with frantic determination.

“Where is she?” he demanded, his voice sharp enough to startle a group of first-years nearby. “Where is she?!”

One of your friends finally stepped forward, hesitant but honest. “She’s... she’s been in bed all day. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”

The words hit him like a Bludger to the chest. Guilt and heartbreak washed over him in waves, drowning out the last remnants of anger. You had been suffering alone, likely because of him—because of what had happened, because of everything Yoonhee had done.

He tried everything—everything—to get through to you. He sent letters, each one carefully written, pouring his heart onto the parchment. He sent messages through your housemates, through your friends, hoping they might convince you to talk to him. Every time he saw a friend of yours, he’d stop them, desperate for any sliver of news.

“How is she? Did she eat today?” he’d ask, his voice laced with worry. “Did she sleep? Is she feeling any better?”

It was always the small things—tiny gestures—to show he cared. That he was thinking about you. That he was sorry. He wanted you to know that it had all been the Amortentia, that none of it had been real. None of it had been his choice. And above all, he wanted you to know that he never, ever meant to hurt you.

But no matter how hard he tried, you remained locked away. Your absence stretched between you like an invisible wall, keeping him out. You weren’t just avoiding him—you were avoiding everyone. And it hurt.

It hurt because he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t talk to you. He couldn’t hold you in his arms and kiss away the pain, couldn’t wipe the tears from your cheeks or make all your worries disappear. He wanted to tell you, face-to-face, how much you meant to him, how much he hated himself for letting this happen. But he couldn’t do any of that—not while you stayed hidden away in your common room, unreachable.

So, he waited. He stayed close, always looking for a chance, a moment, a sign. But until then, he would keep trying, keep hoping, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear.

And he did keep trying. Every day, he checked the places you’d usually be—the library where you’d bury yourself in books, the quiet corner of the courtyard where you’d sit when you needed to think, even the kitchens, where you’d sometimes sneak a late-night snack.

But you weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere.

The less he saw of you, the less he heard of you, the more desperate he grew. His patience—what little he had left—was wearing thin. He couldn’t focus in class, couldn’t eat properly, couldn’t sleep without his thoughts drifting back to you. He wanted—no, needed—to see you. To hear your voice, to know that you were okay, that you didn’t hate him. The thought of you hating him gnawed at his heart like a cruel curse.

He tried to remind himself to give you time, to respect the space you clearly needed. But it was hard. Too hard. Every day that passed felt like another piece of you slipping further away, and he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

When another one of your housemates brushed him off with a mumbled “I don’t know,” Heeseung snapped. He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the frustration and worry boiled over. “How can you not know? You live with her! Hasn’t anyone even seen her?”

The girl flinched but reluctantly admitted, “She’s been in the dorm. She just... doesn’t come out.”

Those words were both a relief and a torment. You were there, within reach, but still so far away from him. The knowledge burned in his chest, twisting into something unbearable. You were so close—just a few walls separating you from him—but it might as well have been an ocean. And he was drowning in it.

Heeseung's desperation grew with every passing moment. He found himself pacing the corridors near your common room, running his hands through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. He couldn’t stand this helplessness, couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, hurting because of him. The guilt was suffocating, pressing down on him like the weight of the castle itself.

He tried to write another letter, his trembling hands scrawling messy, frantic words onto the parchment.

Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know you don’t want to see me, but please, just let me explain. Please let me make this right.

He crumpled it and started again, feeling like no words could possibly convey the storm in his chest. How could he put into words how much he hated himself for what happened? How could he tell you that the worst part of it all wasn’t Yoonhee’s betrayal or the humiliation of being under the potion’s effects—it was losing you?

He sent the letter anyway, knowing it was just one of many you’d likely left unopened.

The next day, he cornered one of your closest friends in the hallway. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please tell her I’m sorry. Tell her... tell her I’ll wait as long as it takes. I just need her to know.”

The friend hesitated, giving him a pitying look before nodding. But he didn’t trust that it would reach you. Heeseung was running out of patience, running out of hope. Every time he thought about the tears you must have shed, the pain you must have felt, it killed him a little more.

Late one night, he found himself back outside your common room again, leaning against the cold stone wall, staring blankly at the entrance. He didn’t even know what he was doing there. Maybe he hoped you’d come out? Maybe he thought you’d sense him there, that you’d realize he wasn’t going anywhere until you let him in.

His fists clenched at his sides, and before he could stop himself, he let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against the wall, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes... I’ll wait for you.”

His voice cracked on the last words, but he meant it. Even if it hurt. Even if it felt like he was being torn apart. You were worth it. You were everything.

Eventually, the Christmas Ball arrived, but Heeseung didn’t want to go. The last thing he wanted was to pretend to enjoy himself, but his friends had other plans. They nagged him, teased him, and pushed him to "just have some fun for once." After a mountain of peer pressure, he reluctantly gave in, throwing on his suit and styling his hair without much care.

He still didn’t expect much. The Ball wasn’t going to fix anything—it was just a night to endure. He let his friends drag him along, had a drink or two, and resigned himself to the chatter around him. None of it mattered.

Until he saw you.

Everything else disappeared the moment his eyes found you across the room. You stood at the edge of the Grand Hall, illuminated by the soft glow of the enchanted snowflakes falling from the ceiling. Your dress shimmered, and you looked breathtaking. Stunning. Like a vision he didn’t deserve to see.

And then he realized—you were staring back at him.

His heart stopped. You weren’t avoiding him this time. You weren’t looking away. Your gaze was locked on his, full of something he couldn’t quite place—uncertainty, maybe? He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were here, and you were looking at him.

Before he could even process what he was doing, his feet started moving. His drink was left abandoned on a nearby table as he strode across the hall, weaving through the crowd until he was right in front of you.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

He had waited for you.

But now, he was done waiting.

For weeks, Heeseung had been nothing but patient, forcing himself to hold back when every fiber of his being screamed to see you, to talk to you, to fix things. He’d stayed away when he knew you needed space. He sent letters, messages, and even flowers, trying to show you he cared without pushing too hard.

And still, he never got a response.

But Heeseung told himself he could endure it, because you were worth it. He could be patient, be understanding, because he loved you. He was good for you, wasn’t he? He cared for you in ways no one else could. No one else would wait this long, worry this much, or fight this hard.

And yet, when he saw you standing there, in your pretty dress, something inside him snapped. He had been so good. He had done everything right. He had given you all the space you asked for, all the time you needed. But seeing you now, after everything, reminded him just how much he’d missed you. How much he’d longed for you. How much it hurt to be apart.

He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again. Not when he knew how good the two of you were together.

He didn’t ask for permission when he reached for your hand, didn’t even hesitate—he simply took it, his fingers curling around yours like they belonged there. Because they did. He believed that with every beat of his heart.

As he pulled you toward the corridor, he felt his resolve solidify. He had been patient, more patient than he thought he was capable of, but patience had its limits. He had waited for you to come to him, but you hadn’t. And now that he had you in front of him, he wasn’t going to let you go.

And when you didn’t fight him as he led you into the quiet hallway, it gave him hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, you wanted this too.

a/n: i love writing his pov :) also im not sure when you put ur perm taglist... so im not adding it here xD already posted so much.

[quarterlifekitty]

Desperate times

Based on the results of this post and poll

cw: dark content. Kidnapping, threats, drugging, noncon, restraint, the whole shebang.

❌ Gaz is starting to feel a little disheartened, babe. You don’t seem as committed to making this work as he is… But that’s okay. He told you he loved you, and love means always being willing to put in the effort, yeah? So if the public approaches aren’t working, maybe you need something more private. It’s easy to get one of his mates to follow you around bars, wait for the perfect moment, and slip something in your drink. It’s easy to know when on the walk home there won’t be any witnesses. The hard part is going to be training you out of hissing and spitting when he gives you sweet words and gentle touches. That’s no way for a bird to treat her man, not when he’s gone through so much for her.

❌Soap is starting to feel a little… restless. This was fun at first, this game of trying to win you back, of cornering you like he was some kind of creep, but now? He just wants his bonnie. He needs you, and he knows you’ll never be as happy with anyone else as you are with him. He starts right from when you wake up after that night of reigniting your passions. You’re saying things you don’t mean, things you’ll regret— and he’s never been able to keep his cool when you get emotional. So if he wraps his hands around your throat and squeezes until you still, he can’t be the only one to blame. Now, he’ll be the first to admit that his worship of your body last night was just a wee bit lackluster… he was too excited for the main event. When you wake up, tied to his bed and gagged, he won’t be making the same mistake. In fact, best start on it now.

⭕️ Ghost doesn’t keep it casual. He doesn’t take baby steps. Just as soon as you return one of his calls, you can barely say hello before he says “I’m comin’ over, dovie.” You’ve never seen him smile like he did on that day before, and quite frankly, you never want to see it again. He looks sick. Drunk on just his proximity to you. He attacks you with his mouth once you answer the door, grunting between heaving breaths that he knew, knew you’d come around, knew you were a good girl, knew you’d never wanna force him to do something he didn’t want to do. He takes you on a few surfaces before he can finally pull his mind together enough to take you to a real bed. Tells you he’s gonna put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly so this can’t happen again, because honestly? He doesn’t wanna tell you what will happen if it does.

❌Nikolai thought it was cute at first, seeing you try to play at being the big, strong, independent girl. But while his love for you is endless, his patience isn’t. The longer he lets this go on, the more training you’ll need when you come back. So he decides to do the merciful thing, and take you home. It’s a shame you didn’t behave— he would’ve let you sit in the passenger seat with his hand on your thigh the way you used to love. Instead he had to drag you into the back, chemicals soaked in the cloth he put over your mouth and nose. It doesn’t do well for a princess to be out of her tower. No, it isn’t good for anyone, least of all the princess. You don’t realize the dragon is collared and chained to you, that’s okay— he’ll just have to put you in a collar and chains of your own while you get used to things again. Maybe you’d be a little happier with your life inside if you had something little and sweet to take care of, like he does? He could get you that, malýshka. You don’t even need to ask.

I was thinking of making this the last in the series, but maybe we can push it further?

[goldenchimmy]

Playing The Part

Pairings: Older!Jungkookxfem!Reader

Cw: age-gap, mentions of alcohol, Oral (fem receiving),Sex,pet names

Word count: 6.7K

🚫MINORS DNI🚫

Summary: needing money for college, you come across an ad for a female escort. You didn't expect the person posting the ad to be a rich, older man.

"Having a nice night?" Jungkook asked, his breath warm against your cheek as he leaned into you from behind. His hand gently sliding over the silk of your dress to playfully grab your hip. His fingers light as he swayed with you to the music with his drink occupying the other hand. The party that surrounded the both of you was nothing short of extravagant; The music was low and classy and the other party-goers were swaying and dancing with one another in the large ballroom.

This wasn't where you pictured yourself at all when you answered that ad.

                                                                                          ------

It was early winter and you were in your second year of college when you found out that your funds had run low. Your apartment rent piling up bill by bill and your fridge emptying faster than you intended. College here was expensive as it was and now you were about to be completely homeless. That was when you found an ad online requesting help from a 'Female Escort'. Usually you were the type to avoid situations like this. Ones that involved the words "Female" and "Escort". Most of the time that meant the person behind the ad was a lowlife man looking to exploit women. The worst kind you usually tried to avoid.

But this ad was different. It went into a little more detail than the title proposed. Your eyes scanned across the ad a few times, reading over the bold electronic words:

SEEKING FEMALE ESCORT

For safety purposes, I will be unnamed until the applicant reaches out to me.

I am seeking a female (age 20 to 27) who will accompany me to a few business outings. No sexual acts or public displays of affection are required to apply. I can assure you I'm not here for that. This will be a week long event and the applicant will be required to accompany myself to all events of the following week.

If she were to accept, I will pay a generous sum of money in return for her help. Seeking ASAP.

If interested, you can reach me at my business number: (xxx) - xxx -xxxx

You don't know how many times exactly that you read over the ad. Hell, you had even slept on it a couple times. But the deadline was soon and you were getting desperate. So, you grabbed your phone from off your nightstand, your fingers nervously typing against the screen as you entered the number from the ad into your phone. You had no idea what you were going to even say!

"Hey, this is a desperate woman needing money"

"I need money, I'm the girl. Pick me"

You huffed a laugh at that and shook your head. That sounded too needy and snobbish. And you definitely weren't either of those things. Eventually, you decided on a more simple approach. Even though you were nervous and your heart was beating hard against your rib cage, you tried to calm yourself as you sent the message:

'Hello, I'm interested in the ad you posted the other day.'

You waited. And waited. And waited...

Eventually you had fallen sound asleep in your bed, your phone laying on your slow rising chest, and it was still there in the morning when you rose. You were groggy as you sat up, your mouth tasting weird as you wiped the drool from your lips. Then your phone chimed and you were startled a bit as you looked at the open message screen.

Your eyes went wide as you read over the message reply from last night.

'Hello. Thank you for reaching out to me. Are you able to meet around noon today? I know that's forward but I'm crunched for time.'

Today? He wanted to meet you today?! That was a bit quick, but you shrugged it off. As you got ready for the day, you debated on even answering him. Maybe you were regretting this decision. But as you walked down the small hallway to your kitchen, your eyes caught the pile of envelopes on the dining table. Big red letters labeled "PAST DUE" marking the white parchment. That's when you took your phone and typed a reply back, your mind made up.

'Yes. I'm able to meet. Where?' you messaged, moving to the window overlooking the dirty, dimly-lit streets of downtown. It was still pretty early in the morning and you didn't have class today, so what else were you going to do? Nothing like meeting a perfect stranger to begin the day. You could only hope that you weren't getting kidnapped by this mystery man.

When noon rolled around, you found yourself sitting in a little street corner cafe. A small cup of tea on the table as you stared out the window. Watching as the people passed by. Inside the Cafe, you were mainly the only one sitting down. Other people taking their orders to go and rushing off to work.

You went to look at your phone then, passing the time by scrolling through posts and videos from friends. The quick chime of the bell above the corner of the door barely registered in your head as the time hit noon, and out of the corner of your eye you saw a pair of neat, slick shoes step over to you. "Hello." came a soft, smooth voice. And when your eyes met ones of brown, you could have sworn all the air left your lungs. This man standing above you was nothing short of the most handsome person you had ever seen.

"Uh-I-Hello..." you stammered, blushing faintly as you watched him take a seat across from you. He crossed his legs slowly, resting his hands together on the table as he watched you squirm a bit. "You-must be from the ad then?" You asked softly, meeting his gaze as you put your phone away. The man only nodded once, a small smile on his face. "My names Jeon Jungkook. I understand you're a bit nervous, but I promise you no harm." he smiled, flashing a row of platinum white teeth. He looked like a movie star.

"Uh, nice to meet you." you whispered, sipping your cup of tea that had grown cold. "You're right on time." you noted, the clock on the wall across the room striking noon. Faint jazz filled the air as Jungkook nodded. "I tend to keep a tight schedule. Its really thanks to my job." He chuckled, running a tattooed hand through his black locs. "Your job?" you asked quietly, biting your lip a bit as you tried making out what the ink read on his knuckles.

He moved them before you could as he grabbed the menu that was laying on the table, flipping through it quickly as a waitress came over to take his order. While you waited patiently for him, you gazed at him again. He was dressed in a finely tailored suit, a black tie resting on his broad chest. A silver watch on his left hand as he ordered what he wanted to the waitress who was busy flirting with him.

Jungkook had faint streaks of gray in his hair, suggesting that his age was older than yours by a few years. The laugh lines near his moving lips also another tell that he was well out of his twenties unlike yourself. You were only twenty-two. This man looked like he was well over 30. Maybe thirty-five or forty? You didn't ask, figuring it was a rude question to start out with as the waitress scurried away with his order. His attention turned back solely on you. His big doe eyes studying your face carefully before he cleared his throat, snapping you out of your deep thoughts.

"So, my job...", he started, smiling a bit. The ring in his lip moving as he did so. "I'm a CEO. I assume you've heard of Jeon Interprises? We are a start-up tech industry." He hummed, waiting for your reaction. The whites of your eyes showed slightly as they widened, nodding your head a few times. "Uh...yeah. I mean, I've heard of it. The buildings pretty huge." You smiled, tracing patterns on the wood of the table with your nail. You recalled a memory of one of your friends saying that whoever owned it was "Compensating for something." It made you giggle a bit, the sound not going unheard by Jungkook. "Something funny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He had a piercing there as well. It was...kind of attractive for a man his age.

You quickly shook your head, biting your lip. "No, no...just something a friend said earlier. But yes, I've heard of it. Very impressive." you nod slightly, before the waitress came back over to set jungkooks order down on the table. A to-go cup of coffee and a donut. When she left, you started again. "How old are you? If you don't mind me asking." Jungkook only smiled, sipping at his coffee after blowing on it before he answered, "I'm thirty-two. I became a CEO when I turned twenty-nine, so I'm fairly new at it still. It was a hand-me-down from an older brother of mine."

You nodded, considering his words before asking another question. "So...then why the ad?" you smiled a bit, before continuing: "I mean, youre a fairly successful CEO, you're smart and probably rich, and you have model good looks. I'm sure you wouldn't have trouble finding someone in your...class that would attend events with you." After taking a sip of your coldening tea, you shrugged nonchalantly. "Just saying..." you smiled.

Jungkook chuckled a bit as he leaned back in his seat, studying you for a moment. "My class? You mean starving models, idols, and other business women who all act dumb and fall at my feet?" he laughed softly again. "Lets just say that I was feeling generous. I wanted to help someone who needed the money, and I wanted something...new. Normal."

"Normal, as in myself?" you asked, making the man chuckle again. "Mhm, like you. You're not swooning everytime I smile at you. You don't seem to care about my money, even though you answered the ad." He sipped his coffee again, "Which leads me to my next question, why did you answer the ad?" The question took you by surprise, although you should have expected it with something like this.

"Well, I'm a broke college student and I'm severely in debt. Theres not much else to it." You shrugged simply, watching his facial expressions. You didn't fail to notice the slight clench of his jaw. How sharp and defined it was. This man was definitely fine as fuck. and here you were, sitting across from him. In the oddest of situations.

"I see." he nodded. "well, then I'm happy you answered the ad. Not just because you need the money, but because you weren't playing with me and that you seem surprisingly honest." He chuckled. "That and you are extremely beautiful." He hummed. The compliment caught you offguard as you blushed heavily, nearly choking on your drink as you wiped your mouth with a napkin. "I- Thank you..." you breathed, laughing a bit.

Jungkook just smiled at you, drinking his coffee quietly as he stared out the window. The clocks hands slowly ticking as it neard half past noon. You needed to go soon, one of your classes was coming up. "So." Jungkook started again, looking back at you easily, drumming his fingers against his cup. "I suppose we should go over the events of the week before I have to go." He chuckled, pulling out a folded piece of paper and sliding it towards you. You unfolded it gently, reading over the written out itinerary. It was fairly simple:

*Monday - Dinner with friends

*Tuesday - Photoshoot for magazine

*Wednesday - Business meeting followed by dinner

*Thursday - Visiting sister companies

*Friday - Office Gala

Your head nodded at the words printed out on the sheet, before you looked back up at him. "So we're doing this?" You ask softly, making the businessman chuckle. "Of course we are. You're a very bright woman. You'll do well." He hummed approvingly, sitting up straight now. "And ofcourse I'll pay you every night for your company. A glorified escort if you will, although I hope we can become more like friends."

You nodded, smiling as you tucked the paper away into your purse before you stood up. "Alright. Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow Jungkook." You breathed, holding out your hand for him to take. The mans hand sliding into your gently, the rough calluses on his palm scraping against yours slightly. "Tomorrow. Oh, and don't worry about paying. I'll cover it." he grinned, winking playfully before he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, letting go of it after a few moments. You could have sworn your heart stopped and your face turned bright red as you nodded faintly.

"Mhm..yeah. Tomorrow." you agreed, before you grabbed the rest of your things and headed for the door, casting one long glance back at the older gentleman before leaving the quaint cafe and heading back onto the busy city streets. Were you even prepared for this? It sounded like a lot in the end, even as day shifted into night and you were comfortably in bed. Your mind racing. You sighed heavily, letting out a breath as you turned on your side. The upstairs neighbors noises slowly lulling you to sleep, mixed with the faint traffic sounds outside and the A/C blasting into your small room.

Tomorrow would definitely be an interesting one...

------

The week seemed to go by in a big blur. Dinner with Jungkooks friends had went surprisingly well even though you weren't used to the upscale dinners and fancy restaurants. Jungkook had prepped you before hand on everyone's names and had even took you out shopping for a few new clothing items. He had told you that the dress you wore to dinner looked flattering on you. You could have sworn you had caught his eyes wandering over your bare legs a few times during dinner that night.

But in the end, the older man had drove you home in his Mercedes and walked you to your apartment door, kissing your hand again before he left. Everytime he did that, sparks seemed to ignite under your skin.

Tuesday was calmer. You didn't know why Jungkook had wanted your company at a simple photoshoot but it seemed to calm his nerves whenever he'd get a break from the bright flashes of the camera, finding you seated in the same chair all afternoon. You were glad to help him, even though he should be used to this type of publicity. 

Later, as the two of you were walking the city sidewalks, he had said that photoshoots always made him nervous. "What if I had a stain on my tie or my zipper was down?" He had muttered to you, a light pink blush appearing on his aged face. It made you laugh louder than intended, the man shushing you quickly as he fought a chuckle. "Shh...you'll ruin me!" he had whispered, soon joining in your laughter. When he had taken you home that night, he kissed your hand again. "Goodnight sweetheart." He had mumbled softly, before handing you an envelope. 

In the silence and solitude of your apartment, you opened the seal on the envelope, your eyes widening at the cash nestled inside. "Shit..." you had breathed. This man wasn't playing around. This money alone would cover half your bills. Before you went to bed that night, you stuck the payment in a safe place to save it. Maybe by the end of the week you could be living a little easier...

The meeting on Wednesday ran long. Longer than Jungkook intended as you sat in the lobby of his building. The black dress you wore hugging your curves as you sat neatly in a leather chair. You found things to busy yourself though. Like paying your past due bills and talking to a nice security guard. The old man giving you some insight to Jungkooks life.  Apparently the man used to be a famous idol. You didn't really care about that part, but he had mentioned to you in passing that he was very good at karaoke. It made sense now. 

Jungkook had six older "brothers" too, who were also apart of the band. 

"Sorry I'm late." Jungkook breathed as he joined you, his dark eyes looking at the security guard and then you. "What did Jun tell you?" He asked playfully, clearly he knew the man well enough to not get mad at him. The conversation flowed in the car as well, you questioning him endlessly about him being a successful idol and him just laughing and explaining his tattooed arm now. Especially the ones tattooed on his knuckles and hand. 

When he had finished, he smiled at you and finally took in your appearance for tonights dinner. You watched as his eyes darkened slightly, his tongue flicking against the metal of his lip ring. "I like this one more than the last." He nodded, his veined hand moving to rest on the dark fabric covering your thigh. His breathing seemed a bit heavier as he parked his car. "I like it too." you mumbled, blushing a bit as you felt the heat from his palm through your dress. It never went farther than that though. Even through the dinner, Jungkook was nothing short of a gentleman. 

Everything seemed to shift slightly on Thursday though. 

Jungkook had paid you that morning, before he told you that you actually couldn't join him today. For what reason, you didn't know. But when he had shown up at your door that morning to tell you, his eyes were dark and tired looking. Like he had stayed up all night after he dropped you off. He also looked...angry underneath the smile lines. But no matter how much you wanted to comfort him, you remained quiet and just nodded at his words.

You had decided to clean your apartment when he left you. The two of you exchanging quick little messages here and there about the day and how you were doing. To be honest, it was weird being alone now. You were so used to Jungkook being there with you all week and now you felt...alone. You liked having someone there to talk to all the time and to laugh with. You had even told Jungkook this, messaging him more than he had replied back. Sure, you felt bad. What if you were interrupting his meeting? 

But the other side of you missed him a lot. And when your phone chimed an hour later, you didn't hesitate to check. It was Jungkook, but instead of replying to your desperate "I miss you" text, he had simply told you that dinner was canceled tonight. So was he even coming over at all? The question ran through your head more times than you'd care to admit. Instead of sulking like you had been doing though, you replied with a picture of yourself in the dress you were going to wear to tonights dinner. The red velvet garment hugging your thighs and breasts. The neckline dipping down between your cleavage slightly. Sure, it was revealing, and Jungkook hadn't seen it yet, but you liked it a lot. You quickly added a text after the picture was sent: 

"Too bad about dinner. I wanted to wear this for you."

You watched your screen after sending it. 

You watched it deliver.

You watched Jungkook look at it and leave you on read. 

He never answered, even as the hours passed and you had eventually took the dress off and showered for the night. Putting on a pair of sweats and a tank top as you grabbed your phone and flopped down on your old couch. It was about nine at night when frantic knocking sounded at your door. You weren't asleep yet, but now you were hyper aware of the sound as you stalked to your living room. 

When you answered it, you were taken aback by the disarrayed Jungkook at your door. His hair was messy and his tie was loose around his neck. He smelled faintly like whiskey as his eyes met yours. His pupils blown wide enough to cover the color of his irises. Before you could even ask what had happened today, he was on you. The older man moving inside the apartment with you before he closed the door and locked it. His large hands on your hips as he found the nearest wall to back you up against. His breath was heavy as he breathed in the scent of your slightly damp hair, his fingers digging into the gray fabric of your sweats gently. 

"Jungkook- what are you-..." You went to ask softly, your own heart racing as you watched him, his hand coming up to press a slender finger to your lips. "Now, what makes you think...you can just send me a photo like that when I'm in a meeting..." he whispered faintly, pulling away to look down at you. He wasn't drunk, that was evident on how clear his words were. So this...whatever this was, he had planned all the way here.

"I thought you'd like it..." You answered calmly, your eyes meeting his softly. "D-did you like it?" you asked, smiling a bit at him. The man chuckled and moved to press his lips against your cheek, his hands squeezing your hips as he tugged you closer to him. "Fuck yes." he growled lowly. "It made me want to leave my meeting so I could drive over here and rip it off with my teeth..." 

The suggestion in his tone almost made your knees buckle as a slight whimper left your lips. How long had it been since someone had talked to you like that? It felt like forever. But this...coming from an older man? It made your stomach do flips as you bit your lip. "O-oh yeah?" you asked shakily, your hand resting against his chest. Jungkook only nodded as his lips moved to kiss and suck lightly against your neck and jaw. His hands sliding to cup your backside and pull you closer against him. It was evident that he was hard in his slacks. But this...wasn't something that had been mentioned before. Sure, there had been light touches and flirting...but never this extreme. 

"Jungkook..." you started, your breaths heavier than they were before as you pushed against him slightly. The older man paused in his onslaught of kisses, pulling away at your pushes to look down at you. "I-i'm sorry. I know that the ad said no sexual favors. That's not what I intended..." he blushed slightly. He looked so boyish as he apologized, but you just shook your head slightly. "I-its okay...I just didn't expect it." you answered, "I just missed you." 

At those words, a cute bunny grin appeared on his face. "Missed me, hm?" he teased, his hands still on your ass as he studied your face. He was quiet for a long moment as he studied your lightly flushed cheeks and your dilated pupils. One of Jungkooks hands left your ass to come up and cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against the rosy flesh. The two of you were practically sharing every breath now. "Do you want me to leave?" he whispered. "Just say the words and I'll go." He mumbled against your lips. Your head swam as you were overwhelmed by the full force of him. The smell of an old cologne wafting off of his disheveled suit coat. The look was definitely affecting you, that and his hands on your body. 

Jungkook opened his mouth to speak but he didn't get a chance as your lips met his. The two of you working in a tandem as his tongue slid past your lips. Eliciting soft groans from you as your arms reached up to wrap around the mans neck, your fingers twining in the strands of hair at the nape of Jungkooks neck. When he pulled away, he smirked down at you and your slightly swollen lips. His tongue darting out to lick his own lips. "I've been thinking about doing that all week." he chuckled. "but...I should go now. Let you sleep...hm? Prepare for that party tomorrow night."

                                                                                            -----

And that's how you ended up at this glamorous party, Jungkooks hand secured on your hip as he leaned into you. His breath tickling your ear as he hummed. "Did you hear me?" he asked, a soft laugh leaving the man. It snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting his as you smiled. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" It made him laugh again as his hands moved to turn you around. Your eyes meeting his dark ones.  "I asked if you were having a nice night?" He smirked playfully, the gray in his hair catching the light from the overhead chandeliers. 

"Oh.", you started, looking around a bit more. To be honest, it was a little overwhelming. All the people and the music. You had gotten to meet some of Jungkooks "brothers". Jimin and tae. That was a definite upside, as the two men were as nice and as teasing as Jungkook. "I guess? This is my first Gala. I have nothing to compare it to." You shrugged, smiling faintly up at the man. His hands tightened on your silk-clad hips then, his mouth meeting your ear as his lips brushed against it. "Maybe not..." He whispered, "maybe we can keep doing this...together." 

His words made you pause. Your eyes widening as you pulled away to look at him. "Keep doing this...Jungkook, what are you talking about? I'm a twenty-two year old college student. I'm not rich or used to all this! I would never fit in here or with your crowd." you whispered frantically, trying to get free from the mans gentle grip on you. He wouldn't budge, his doe eyes staring at you. His lips slightly parted. His tongue played with the piercing in his lip as you waited for a response with baited breath. 

"Come with me." He said suddenly, sliding his hand into your and heading up a grand staircase. It lead to the second floor, people watching from the railings at the party down below. A party that soon grew quiet as the man in front of you led you down halls and walkways. He was eerily quiet as you let him, before he pushed open a door that led to a lavish bedroom. A large bed against the far wall, draped with curtains. Modern furniture everywhere and a view that put any you'd seen to shame. 

"Where are we Jungkook? Why'd you bring me here?" you asked, closing the door behind you. You took a few steps into the room, your hands slack at your sides as you watched the man go over to a liquor cabinet and pour himself a small glass of whiskey. He downed it in one go, before he leaned against the counter he was behind. His dark eyes staring right into your soul. "This is my private room. I pay for it. I come here when I'm stressed or when I want away from my lonely apartment. Jimin owns this entire building." He smirked slightly as he watched your mouth part in surprise. 

"Oh." you muttered, before taking another slow look around. But you could feel the mans eyes on you. Like a predator watching it's prey. " I want to keep doing this." He started then, making you turn around to look at him. "And before you complain...let me say this," He held up a hand, smiling playfully at you. "I like you. A lot. You're different. You're beautiful." he blushed, the man still slightly bashful as he admitted this to you. A hint of the teenager underneath it all showing through. 

"And I know you're not rich. I didn't fail to notice your mail yesterday when I came over. You needed to be my escort for the money and I understand that. You wanted nothing more than the job and the cash that I offered." He shrugged. "I was prepared to pay you your final earning tonight actually, but I wanted to say this first," He paused, gauging your reaction. When you just watched him, listening intently, he continued.

"I want more than this. I want to take you to more than just galas and photoshoots." 'He smiled, taking slow steps towards you now. "I want to take you on dates and to clothing stores." he hummed, before he was in front of you, his hands taking yours gently and holding them. His dark doe eyes meeting your wide ones. "I want to travel the world with you..." he breathed, his thumbs rubbing the back of your hands. 

"I want...you."

The words came crashing down on you. Your heart racing as you stared at him in shock and disbelief. This man...wanted you? A rich, successful, older CEO wanted a normal girl from some no name town? You almost couldn't believe it. And you weren't surprised when you found yourself nodding at his words. With shaking hands you reached up and cupped his face between them. You had denied yourself since that night at dinner when he had kept looking at you. Had denied what happened between the two of you yesterday. You were done not giving in to what your heart and body clearly wanted. 

"I want you too Jungkook." You whispered, your lips meeting his in a rush of courage and passion. Only a second passed before you felt him kissing you back, his tongue asking for entrance as it slid across your lower lip. Jungkooks hands moved and wrapped around you then, his veiny hands grasping your ass and giving a playful squeeze as you opened up for him. The sound of your kissing and shared breaths the only noise in the room. 

When you moaned against his lips is when both your resolves snapped. The man easily lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you over to the large bed. He set you down easily before he pulled away, his eyes on you as he stepped back and pulled his tie free. Jungkook taking his time as he slowly untucked his shirt, unbuttoning it and letting it fall to the floor. A low chuckle left him at your awed expression. This man was so fine, it had to be criminal. His tattoo ended at his shoulder, and his body was toned. Like desire incarnate. 

"Fuck." you whispered, feeling your core clench and ache slightly. Maybe it had been awhile since you've done anything with a man. Your body felt like it was on fire. Jungkook just chuckled at the heat behind your single word, the outline of his erection pressed against his black slacks. He was big, and you wondered what it would feel like when he was inside you. Stretching you open so you could take all of him. Just the thought made you shiver, your legs pressing together under your dress. He took note of that, his pupils dark as he smirked. The man lowering to the ground in front of you, resting on his knees. "What's wrong babygirl?" He breathed, one of his larger hands sliding under your dress and up the bare flesh of your leg. 

The name alone caused you to whimper with desperation. Fuck, hearing that from an older man had definitely awoken something within you. Jungkook smirked at your silence as his hand only slid higher. He stopped when his fingers brushed your inner thigh. "Do you want me to?" he breathed heavily, waiting for your response. You looked down at him then, biting your lip as your legs parted on pure instinct. "Want you to what?" you asked playfully, your chest rising and falling quickly. 

Jungkook raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, licking his lips again as his hand only inched higher. You both clearly wanted this. "Do you want me to show you how a real man pleasures a cunt like yours?" he grinned, his fingers skimming the lace of your underwear. A gasp left you as you shivered, nodding quickly at his devilish words. At this point you let him do anything he wanted. 

That was all Jungkook needed as he slid your dress up your legs, bunching the material at your waist as his eyes ate up the image before him. Your black lace panties already ruined with an obvious wetness. He chuckled slightly as he ran a skilled finger over your covered slit, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "See? Already ruined for me,hm?" he licked his lips. He gently moved to pull your underwear to the side, his other hand grasping your hip gently as you leaned back on your arms to watch him. Jungkook nearly groaned at the sight of your aching clit, begging for attentipn as he leaned up and kissed along your thighs. You were already trembling with need, and you were afraid that you would come just from this alone. 

The older man kissed and sucked along your smooth skin, before he slowly slid his skilled tongue up your slit and though your folds. His lips sealing around your pulsing clit. The moan that left you was loud and sudden, your hips bucking up against his wanting mouth. His hand gently held you down as he feasted on you like a man starved. His lips and tongue pleasuring you until you were a mess of cries and moans. Your hands grasping at the salt and pepper strands of his hair. "J...Jungkook-" you whined. "I'm going to cum if you keep doing that- please" 

Jungkook pulled away then, letting you catch your breath as he stared at you. His lips and chin drenched with your arousal. His tongue flicking his lip ring as he stared at you. "I know baby...I could tell." he smiled, before he stood up and unbuckled his belt. His slacks sliding down his waist, revealing black Calvin Klein boxers. His hardened erection straining against the material as he climbed onto the bed, hovering over your disheveled form. "I want to finish together." He whispered, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. His skilled mouth moving to capture your lips. The taste of yourself on his lips was enough to send you reeling, your back arching up into him so he could reach under you and unzip the dress you wore. 

Once that was done, he helped you shimmy out of it, the man throwing the pile of red silk onto the floor. Aside from your underwear being halfway down your full thighs, you were naked under him. Nipples perfectly peaked against the slight chill in the air. Jungkook stared down at you then, one of his hands coming up to roll and pinch one of them, causing you to moan and whine for him. "Please-" you begged quietly. Jungkook looked at you, smirking playfully as his other hand left you and tugged down his boxers. His considerable length slapping against his toned stomach. Precum beading at the tip already. It made you hungry. It made your pussy even wetter than it already was. 

"Please what, baby?" he whispered,pecking your lips. A hand leaving your breast and moving to cup your cheek. His other hand slowly stroking his cock. You watched him, stomach clenching as your legs parted for him to ease between. "Please fuck me." you begged quietly, blushing faintly as you stared at him. 

Jungkook nodded, smiling slightly before he kissed you. His hand around his cock slowly guiding him against you. His tip spreading your folds apart before he was slowly inching inside of you. His lips cut off the garbled moan that left you, your hands tangling in his hair tightly after you wrapped your legs around him. Once he had given you time to get a feel of him, he started pushing more. Until he completely bottomed out, filling you to the brim with himself as he slowly started thrusting. 

The moans that left the both of you were long and loud when he started moving against you. Sweat beading at his temple as he leaned down to kiss you again. His kiss gentle as his hips picked up a steady rythym. Your legs only tightened further around him as he did, pulling away to cry out in ecstacy. He felt so good against you. The warmth, the shared breaths, the absolute heavenly feel of him inside you made your toes curl as you felt that long overdue lick of pleasure slide down your spine and pool in your stomach. 

Jungkook knew it too. Could feel the way your walls clenched and tightened around him the fatser and harder his thrusts became. He was also chasing his own release, but he wanted to watch as the pleasure crossed your face. Wanted to see you turn to mush underneath him as he contimued to use you to reach his own orgasm. "Thats it baby...just a little more for me.." he whispered against your cheek, his nose skimming the rosy pink skin. "You're being so good...you feel so perfect around me." The praise went straight to your head as you turned his face towards you, lips meeting his in a sloppy kiss as you crumbled around him. Your hips met his slowing thrusts, riding out your orgasm. Moans and whined falling from your reddened lips as you looked up at him with hooded eyes. 

Jungkooks thrusts were getting slopppier by the second as he guided you through your climax, his cock aching for its own release. The mans hands propping him up above you slightly, tattooed hand dug into the blanket under you as his eyes raked over your sweaty, pleasure-stricken features. Soft moans still left your lips at his weakening thrusts, your poor cunt sensitive after the onslaught he was currently trying to end. Your hands tangling back in his hair as you kissed him. 

It wasn't long before Jungkooks hips pushed for the final time, making sure he was securely all the way inside you before he let his orgasm take him. His cock spurting out rope after rope of cum inside you. Painting your insides in white as he slowed, eventually stopping. Your thighs were sticky with sweat and release as it trickled out of you around him. A satisfied smile plastered your face as Jungkook fell on top of you, burying his face in your neck as he peppered your heated skin with kisses. 

The two of you layed there for what seemed like forever, until the older man rolled off of you, sliding out of you gently before he pulled you against his chest. Jungkook smoothed your hair back as he reached down and pulled a blanket over the both of you, a smile on his face as he kissed your forehead. You were both too tired to clean up. But you had all the time in the world with him now. Jungkook sighed in contentment. "Thank you." he whispered softly as the two of you lay there. 

You turned on your side slowly, already feeling the ache between your legs. You would worry about that tomorrow. " For what?" you asked sleepily, playing with a strand of his hair. Jungkook hummed and wrapped an arm around you, tugging you even closer to him. "For playing the part." He breathed against your hair, making you blush and laugh slightly. You only nodded, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "Starting tomorrow...I don't think I want to play a part anymore." Jungkook just smiled at your words, his heart felt full as he nodded, letting you doze off against him. 

What would the next few weeks entail? The next few years? 

But he wouldn't worry about that now. All he wanted now was to be close to you. To never let you go. So he wouldn't.

Not until you ordered him away.

[hotteokyu]

who are you, who am I

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

Pairing ~ prisoner!yunho x prisoner!reader

Word count ~ 13.8k

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

a/n ~ tell me what you think ;p

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     This could be your chance to see him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Your puppy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “Mhm…” He’s quiet, embarrassed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “I want to be good for you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     She writes it down. 

     “Any others?”

     “No.”

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

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

     “My mother.”

     She writes it down. 

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

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

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

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

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

     Right, she’s right. Patience.

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

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

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

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

     “Return her to her cell.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     It’ll be okay. 

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

It’ll be okay. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     And you have to watch it all happen.

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

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

     Birds. 

     Trees. 

     Wind.

     Him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “ATEEZ…?” you mumble to yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

     He nods. 

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

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

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

     “I wish I knew,” you mumble. 

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

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

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

     “We’ll pick you up in the mor-!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “Would you feel more comfortable?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “Y-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “I’ll make it up to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “Fuck me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “I’ll keep you warm forever.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     “I could pull them,” she huffs. 

     “Uh huh.”

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

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

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

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

     “It’s, like, two hours away.”

     “Whaaaat…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     You remember everything.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     You giggle. “Me too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Oh, fuck, the tank.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     You want to die. You want to fucking die. 

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

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

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

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

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

     This is real. 

     You won’t disappear because this is real.

     It’s real.

a/n ~ thank you so much for reading ♡

mwaᯓᡣ𐭩

    taglist ~ @wisejudgedragonhairdo @prettiestttprincess @tomarisela @hypnocomedyfunnyhero @laudyadee @ari33y @sweetnsua @forestroute @sleepyheadyunho @hyukalvrr @acetyu @idktrix @alienfromneptune @cyberteez @hannahdiazsblog @aftertherain-atr @civeua @kcf4e @clut0 @mscumberbatchedhiddlestoned @tiny2018 @yoonshiiu @suki-lele @shikigamihwa @dearkys @catarinastar1 @sanniebabes @thechaotictheoryy @mulloey @cryingstudent @atinyprincesss @boo4youss @babuis @niall-itsharrysfault @everyonewooeverywhere @neptunesutopia @wooyoungiesworld @jiamoon3525 @miniaturegardenwitch @jaesmthg @midnightrebel1028 @freezedsoul @certifiedmoa @miyaluvvsyou @clxudss @zaynsfl4m3s @mariana-mmtz @mingismangi @jinxtheta @smally97 @haerinimiku @pixheu @yunshakes @yun-fangz @midnightreader-06 @uhhheather @teeztopia @dubuyunho

[singmyaubade]

Growing Pains

poly!marauders x female!reader

summary: you are in desperate need of a job, and the marauders are in desperate need of a babysitter, what's the worst that could happen?

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ | age gap between marauders & reader (not heavily identified) | reader is 21 + | mature language.

author's note: hello everyone! so i have multiple poly!marauder fics going on at this very moment (i know) but this was something that came to me and i thought it would be so cute to write since i never really dip my toes into this kind of normal au's. but please enjoy!

! divers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics !

Being unemployed right out of university was not part of your plan.

You knew that it wasn’t unusual to be unemployed after attending university, but you also had high expectations for yourself.

Originally, you were going to intern at your father’s law firm for a while just to get on your feet, while living in your own studio apartment, which he would pay for—his reward for you ‘stepping up’ straight out of university.

After that, you planned to gain some experience and then be able to work at an actual law firm—not just intern—and pay off your studio apartment on your own.

But, as usual, you and your father had gotten into a blown-out, heated argument about your future. All you had said was that you ‘wanted to do some writing on the side’ during dinner, and everything blew up when he claimed that ‘writing is unreliable and wouldn’t get you anywhere in life,’ which only pissed you off.

It ended with you saying some things you didn’t regret, but maybe should have, and him cutting you off financially, retracting the offer at his law firm.

Instead of groveling, you let your stubbornness take over, storming out and having to find somewhere to live as soon as possible.

Thankfully, your cousin, who had graduated a few years before you, was openly looking for a roommate and wasn’t charging a high rate. You took the offer immediately, but finding a job was a real pain in the ass.

Every place you tried to intern at said you didn’t have enough experience or was in competition with your father’s law firm.

And every place you applied to—whether it was as a barista, waitress, assistant, etc.—rejected you.

For no reason, might you add.

You were growing hopeless and severely depressed. Mary was finding it quite hard to comfort you lately, especially since you were holed up in your room, refusing to leave.

She didn’t even think you went out to use the bathroom.

So eventually, when you came out of your room for your 8 PM coffee, she confronted you.

“Y/N,” She sighed, looking at you as you wrapped yourself in a blanket, dark circles under your eyes. “I love you a lot, but I need you to bloody get it together!”

You groaned. “What do I have to live for if no one will hire me and I’m just unsuccessful?” You sulked. “I mean, I’m going to be living with you until you and Lily have kids!” You screeched, horrified.

Mary looked spooked. “I pray not,” She replied, walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in her hands. “You just need to have more faith in yourself—and maybe a little boost,” She said, letting go and sitting on the counter. “Which is why I got you that little boost and got you a job!” She said excitedly, grinning as you looked at her in shock.

“Wait, what?” You responded. “Doing what? And how?” You asked nervously as her grin widened.

“Well, it’s a full-time babysitting gig,” She said happily, swinging her legs.

“So, a nanny?” You asked, sounding a bit deflated.

“Well, unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be living with them, but yeah, kind of,” She said, as you hummed.

“And you know the parents?” You asked hesitantly.

“Oh, like the back of my hand,” She said calmly as if your question was ridiculous.

“I mean, should I text them or anything? Or at least let them get to know me before I start babysitting for them?” You asked nervously.

Mary waved you off. “They’re really chill, they’ll love you,” She said happily as she hopped off the counter.

“Wait, but—” You tried to speak again, but Mary wasn’t having it.

“I’ll send you their address. You have to be there at 10 AM!” she yelled before heading to her room.

That wasn’t very informative.

You were never this nervous. You really didn’t want to mess this up. Your palms were sweaty, and you were worried they'd think something was wrong with you, maybe unfit to handle kids if you were this nervous over meeting the parents. And Mary hadn’t even bothered to give you any info about the family—no names, no details about their children.

What made it worse was that you couldn’t decide what to wear. You wanted something casual but presentable, something that said 'I’m approachable, but not a slob.'

You were pretty sure the wife wouldn't appreciate anything too scandolous, and a single dad might misread it.

You ended up choosing a red and green Christmas sweater, mom jeans, and Mary Jane’s—comfortable enough, you thought, to handle kids.

Unfortunately, your timing didn’t match. Without a car (since your dad had cut you off), you had to bike there. And to make matters worse, you’d burned your toast and didn’t have time to make more. You were late, pedaling as fast as you could, praying your GPS was right.

You finally arrived at a beautiful suburban house—exactly what you imagined when you thought of a family of four. The house had a neat front yard, a doormat, and was surrounded by well-kept homes. Taking a deep breath, you rang the doorbell and quickly checked your reflection. Your hair was a mess, but you didn't have time to fix it before the door swung open.

A man with black hair, a black button-up shirt, and tattoos on his arms greeted you. He was strikingly handsome with a charming smile. And.. great, you were already crushing on the dad.

"Hey, you must be Y/N, the babysitter Mary recommended," He said with a grin, extending his hand. "We were expecting you—come on in."

The house felt warm and homey, with photos of kids everywhere and Christmas decorations all over. Toys were scattered on the living room floor but not in a messy way—just lived in.

"Sorry about the mess," The man said, laughing and running a hand through his hair. "You’ve arrived during morning madness."

"Oh, it’s fine," You replied, feeling flustered. "The decorations are lovely."

"They kind of went overboard this year," He chuckled.

Before you could say anything else, another man entered the room—a tall, broad figure with light brown hair, wearing a white button-up shirt and brown slacks. Scars marked his face, but they somehow added to how pretty he was.

“Sirius,” The man grumbled, “I told you to tidy up an hour ago,” He sent an annoyed look his way,

"Remus," The new man said, extending a hand. "Apologies for the chaos. It’s never this untidy."

"Yes, it is," Sirius teased. Remus shot him a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"It’s nice to meet you both," You said with a smile. "Your home is beautiful. It reminds me of my family’s place."

Remus looked relieved. "We’re glad to have you. Can I get you anything? A glass of water?" He asked.

"I think I’m fine," You answered kindly as Remus led you to the couch.

Sirius sat next to you, creating a situation where you were sandwiched between the two men. You felt a little nervous, but they looked extremely comfortable.

"So, Mary didn’t tell us much about you," Remus started.

"She just gave us your last name and I didn't think it would be kind to search you up," Sirius added.

You laughed nervously. "Yeah, she can be a bit mysterious for no reason."

Sirius noticed you fidgeting and put a hand on your knee. "We’re just happy to get to know you ourselves," He said with a kind smile.

"Well, ask me anything," You said, trying to calm your nerves.

"Anything?" Sirius asked with a teasing smile. You flushed, and Remus shot him a warning look.

"How old are you?" Remus asked.

"21," You answered.

"Ah, the responsible age," Sirius joked, "How has it been?" He asked, trying to make you more comfortable.

"It’s been good," You replied. "More responsibilities now, its been a bit hectic."

"Out of school?" Remus asked.

"Yeah, just finished," You said with a smile.

"What did you study?" He continued.

"Criminal Justice with a minor in Creative Writing."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Remus here is a bit of a writer himself."

You perked up. "Really?"

Remus chuckled. "Just write novels here and there."

"Which ones?" You asked eagerly, looking at him in excitement.

"Probably haven’t heard of them," Remus said, shrugging. "The Idea of the Unknown was one that was popular for a bit," He added casually, and your eyes widened.

"Wait, you wrote The Idea of the Unknown?" You asked in disbelief.

He laughed. "Yeah, that’s me."

He seemed completely nonchalant as he mentioned one of the books that had shaped your entire view on life. You were amazed by how humble he could be about it.

And then it clicked,

He was one of your all time favorite authors.

You almost fainted. "You’re the Remus Lupin?" You asked, excited.

"Surprised you know my work," He said. "I didn’t think your age group read my books."

"I love your books!" You exclaimed. "The story between Ophelia and Duke had me crying for weeks after the ending."

Remus smiled warmly. "I spent fifteen years perfecting that ending. Glad it made an impact."

"But we're glad you love his work," Sirius teased, a sly grin painting his face.

You blushed, mortified. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn this into a meet and greet. I swear I’m not a stalker."

Sirius laughed. "Honestly, this just makes us more sure about you. At least we know you have taste." He nudged your shoulder jokingly.

You felt a bit guilty for not asking more about their kids. "So, what are their names?"

You pointed to a picture of two kids—a boy with dark hair and hazel eyes, and a shy-looking girl with long brown hair. They were both in front of the Christmas tree with matching Rudolph pajamas as the boy smiled confidently in front of the camera and the little girl hid behind him.

"Harry is almost four—he’s a bit of a handful, but he’s brave. Ruby’s shy, but she’s a clever little thing." Remus says, "And don't be fooled by either of them, they love to prank people and be up to no good,"

"They’re both adorable," You said. "I’m sure I’ll love them."

Remus checked his watch. "Actually, they should be back from their walk about now."

And just as he said that, the door opened, and in came a tall man with glasses and black hair that was shorter than Sirius's, carrying Ruby on his back and with Harry hanging from his leg.

Yet another handsome man.

"Okay, go to your daddies," The man said, setting Ruby down. She rushed over to Sirius, while Harry went to Remus, peppering him with questions.

The man turned to you. "And who’s this?" He asked with a grin.

You felt your heart race. "I’m Y/N, the new babysitter," You said, extending a hand.

"James," He said, then surprised you by pulling you into a hug. "Nice to meet you."

Sirius laughed. "He’s a hugger." He picked up Ruby as she pulled on his long locks of hair, earning a pained groan from him as he put her back down, "Not nice," He jokingly pouted as he rubbed his head.

You were too busy by James's embrace to be fully locked on to the kids as his scent infiltrated your nose. James smelled like maple syrup and firewood, and it almost made you dizzy.

When he pulled back, he grinned. "We’re glad to have you."

"Yeah, we need a new face around here," Sirius added as Ruby shyly hid behind his legs.

"Come on, Ruby, say hello," James coaxed, looking at the little girl and nodding his head to you as she went towards you in a shy manner, "She won't bite," James added, trying to help.

You kneeled down to her level. "Unless you want me to," You joked, making her giggle.

"My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?"

"Ruby," She said quietly.

"That’s a pretty name," You said. "You’re pretty too."

Ruby smiled shyly, and you stood up to find a little Harry already approaching you.

"Do you have cookies?" He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Not yet," You laughed.

"Bwoo," Harry pouted, moving over to James as he picked him up.

"Looks like you’re going to be a good fit,"

[demonic0angel]

May we get a story for your animal au? Maybe deer danny/cass, or wolf jazz/jason, or just the phantom family dealing with the fact they are animals? Anything your brilliant brain can comeup with.

(Taking a different route with this one lmao)

Damian walked in through the door. "Hello, Father. Hello, Richard."

"Hello, Damian," Bruce said, not taking his eyes off of the newspaper.

When he looked up, Damian had slipped through the doors and to his room. Bruce looked at Dick, whose mouth was completely open as he stared after where Damian had disappeared.

"... Dick?" Bruce asked.

Dick turned to Bruce slowly with wide eyes. "Damian just brought a bird, a snake, a deer, and a wolf into the manor."

".... WHAT?!??!"

————

The entire family congregated around Damian's room, which was locked.

"Damian?" Dick asked, very sickly sweet. "Could you open the door for us?"

"Who's us?" Damian asked after a long moment. There was some shuffling and clacking noises like he was rearranging the room.

Jason pulled up his sleeves at this point, but Duke and Tim quickly held him down, resulting in some muffled cursing and more scuffles. Bruce pinched his nose.

"Uhm. All of us. Damian! We're really worried, I think I saw a wolf and a snake enter your room? Dami? Please open the door," Dick said desperately.

Damian gave a long, audible sigh, and then said, "Give me a moment. I'll open the door in a few minutes when I'm ready."

Dick put his head in his hands. It was Bruce who asked, "Are you safe, son?"

"I'm fine! They're docile and quite nice. You're all worrying for nothing."

True to his word, the door opened a few moments later and they all poured into his room, where they gaped at the sight of the animals around his bed.

A white deer with large horns sat at the foot of his bed, looking at them with wise, green eyes. A peregrine falcon perched on his headboard, chirping. An enormous, black wolf prowled closer and brushed against Damian's side, almost making them all jump, which was only worsened when they realized the other black thing around his body was a large king cobra, hissing softly.

"Damian?!" Dick nearly shrieked. "That's a—"

"King cobra? Yes, I am aware. These four were traveling together around Gotham Academy while I was studying, so I went to see them and earned their trust. I asked them to follow me home and they have agreed. So here they are."

Jason blurted out, "Are you fucking crazy?" And Tim and Stephanie rushed to agree, already reaching out to pull Damian away from the wolf and snake.

Damian pulled away from them with a huff. "It's fine! I am alright! They are obedient and won't attack me. Look." He pressed a hand to the wolf's snout and pushed. Said wolf was so large that its head reached even higher than Damian's gelled hair.

It didn't move when Damian pushed at it, but when he insisted, it then gently toppled over with a huff, like the way an overgrown dog could be pushed to the floor.

Damian beamed and bent down slowly, as to not dislodge the cobra around his neck, to furiously pet and stroke the wolf. Its fur was so thick that his hands sank straight through, which only delighted him more. The wolf's tail wagged and then the deer approached with a gentle rumble, also wanting pets.

The falcon wasn't far behind, flying towards them with a screech before landing on Damian's shoulder gently. The cobra didn't even twitch, just flicking out its tongue.

Damian beamed again. "See! They're very docile!"

"This entire family is crazy," Duke muttered, and the rest of them could only mournfully agree, watching as their little brother was starting to fall in love with four random, dangerous, wild animals.

It was too late. They were now pets.

[ang3lc]

nosferatu is abt to be my number 1 hear me out. man said “you are my affliction” “i cannot be sated without you” “i am an appetite, nothing more” HELLO?????

thinking about toxic!ex!simon.....

The banging on the door is relentless, a pounding that vibrates through the frame and straight into your chest. It’s raining so hard that it sounds like the sky itself is cracking open, drowning out his muffled voice on the other side. But you hear him anyway, broken and raw. “Let me in. For fuck’s sake, please let me in.”

Your stomach twists. You don’t want to see him. You shouldn’t see him. But your hand moves to the lock on instinct, and when you open the door, the sight of him makes your breath catch.

Simon is on the edge of ruin. Rain streaks down his face, plastering his hoodie to his skin, his hair curling and dripping. His mask is gone, leaving him exposed in a way you’ve never seen before. His eyes—wild, bloodshot, hollow—meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you says a word. He's on the verge of self-destruction.

Then, before you can speak, he collapses to his knees.

It’s not graceful. It’s not controlled. It’s desperate. His body hits the ground with a thud, his palms catching against the threshold like they’re the only thing holding him together. You take a step back, expecting him to get up, to say something sharp or clipped, but he doesn’t. He leans forward, and...

He crawls.

He crawls inside like a wounded mutt, breathing ragged and uneven. His massive hands dragging against the floor until they find your legs. You try to move back, but he follows, until his forehead is pressed to your stomach, his massive frame trembling as he clutches at you. His fingers dig into your hips, holding onto you like he's drowning, his head tilting back to look up at you.

You try to pull away, but his grip tightens. “Don’t,” he growls, the sound guttural, primal. The look in his eyes is feral—something broken and starving and so goddamn human it makes your heart ache.

“Y'don’t get it,” he spits, his voice trembling. “I can't be sated without ya, love, don’t y'see? You’re in me. You’re fuckin' inside me, and no matter what I do, I can’t tear y'out.”

He buries his face against you again, messily planting his lips against any ounce of skin open to worship. “I’ll fuckin' beg. I’ll get on m'knees—between y'thighs—every night if I have to. Just—don’t leave me again. Please. I’ll fuckin' die without you.”

You inhale sharply, your hands hovering at your sides as his shoulders shake. The rain drips from him, pooling on your floor, but he doesn’t care. He clutches at you tighter, his voice dropping into something dark and guttural. “I'm an appetite, nothing more. I was made to need ya, to crave ya. And I can’t—” His voice cracks, and he presses his face harder into you, his breath hot and ragged through his sobs. “I can’t fuckin' live without you, baby—please.”

You should push him away, should tell him to leave, but instead, you stand frozen, overwhelmed by the storm of him—the raw hunger, the consuming despair, the way he folds himself into you, desperate to make himself whole again. He’s feral, ruined, a shadow of himself, and all of it is for you.

How could you deny him?

mlist

[satoru-is-the-way]

A/N: Hello everyone it has been a while since I have done any sort of fanfiction. I want to try and get back in the groove for this new year. There are so many fandoms I want to write for. I want to try and get all my drafts and inbox requests cleared out by June but who knows if that will happen. Right now I will focus on them one at a time. But for now I want to focus a bit on Squid Game since the new episode just released. This will be a two part fanfiction.

Triggers: Mention of death, Gore (part 2), smoking, alcohol use, age gap (reader is 25 , Seong is 50,) and SMUT (PART 2)

Seong Gi- Hun x Reader

Game of Hearts pt.1

Seong Gi- Hun had his heart, mind, and soul set on finding the person who currently ran the Squid Game. He needed to find not only their leader but the island he was sent to in hopes of stopping the horrid games once and for all. His first step was to find the salesman who recruited him. Gi- Hun needed a team searching everyday for signs of this recruiter, and with his money he could afford anyone he desires. That is how (Y/n) (L/n) landed an invitation from Gi- Hun to discuss a partnership. Doing his research on possible hires, her name somehow kept finding its way to the top of his list. (Y/n) (L/n) came from an international family who of course aren't exactly on the right side of the law. Gi- Hun normally would not converse with people such as this but he needed someone discreet. It is possible this foreigner may be just the thing he needed to give a different perspective, and if they were caught it wouldn't connect back to him.

Gi- Hun sat patiently waiting for (Y/n) to arrive. His leg bounced nervously as the anticipation continued to grow. He was eager to get his mission started and this was only the first step in his plan. So many doubts ran through his mind. Everything that happened, all the friends lost, and worst of all the betrayals. A gentle knock at the door instantly grabbed his attention. “You may enter.” He spoke in a monotone voice. A cricking sound echoed in the room as (Y/n) entered. Now Gi- Hun had seen many beautiful foreigners in his life but this woman took his breath away. A feeling was rekindling he never thought possible again especially with how things ended with his ex wife whom Gi- Hun used to harbor feelings for. (Y/n) was a decent height, not taller than he was. Her sharp (e/c) eyes had been the first thing that captivated him. A look someone in power gave and it made him almost fall to his knees in front of her. (Y/n) held her head high taking a seat in front of him. She crossed her legs elegantly ready for business. Suddenly his lips were dry he quickly wets them taking a breath in.

“Are you just going to sit there and sweat all over the place or talk business?” Her tone that made him hang off every word spoken.

Gi- Hun nods,” Forgive me. I am looking for someone and I believe your team has the skill set needed to help.”

“Sure, do you have a picture of this suspect? Do you want them dead or alive?” (Y/n) got straight to the point.

“No I don’t have a picture but I can describe him, maybe even draw a reference up, but I do need him alive. This man is very dangerous. I didn't plan to go into detail about him. I do think you need to know what I have been through…” Gi- Hun then goes into details about how the salesman looked and tells her the synopsis of his time in the Squid Games. In honesty he simply needed to vent to some who might listen. Like any normal person of course her facial expressions changed throughout the entire hour he spent rambling on. Just as she was about to call him a lunatic and storm out for wasting her time Gi- Hun pulled out a case of money. The sum only one could achieve if his story was true. He looked like a desperate man needing someone, anyone to believe him.

“I’m in.” Those are the words that sealed their fate.

_1 Year Later_

The first year was rough for Gi- Hun who struggled with no progress. The pressure built on his shoulders as (Y/n)’s team searched. No leads, signs, or any traces of this guy or any others recruiting for their sadistic game. He is currently lighting a cigarette leaning back in his chair. It was time for (Y/n)'s weekly update. She walked into the room. The once stone cold eyes now turn soft seeing Gi- Huns distress. It was easy to notice he was worked up, especially today because it happened to be the ‘anniversary’ of him winning the games.

(Y/n) had also opened up with Gi- Hun the older man constantly turned to her for conversation. Normally she would dismiss clients' interests in becoming more than just professional partners… However this man , using those sad puppy looks made her professional code crumble after the first 3 months. Today Gi- Hun started their normal conversation about who went where and searched what stations including all the evidence of their searches that had been submitted via picture. (Y/n) in the middle of their debriefing took a bold step behind Gi- Hun’s desk gently placing both of her soft hands on his shoulders. At first he tensed up, unsure of her movements. Little by little her hands began to move , rubbing his shoulders.

“What…why are you doing this?” His voice shakes from the amount of relaxation he was drifting into. She chuckled at his response and applied more pressure at the base of his neck earning a moan. “You are trying to kill me aren't you?”

“Gi- Hun if I wanted to kill you and take all of your money I would have done so already. But I wouldn’t ever think of doing that. After meeting you nothing feels the same… I want to meet more than once a week. I can see this is tearing you apart. You have been at this for a year… we may not have much progress… but I know destiny brought us together and it's just begun. I won’t leave your side.” She could not stop as her heart took over.

Gi- Hun is speechless gazing up into her large (e/c) eyes that sparkle in the dim light of this run down hotel. “It's dangerous, I am dangerous. All the people that were killed… I hated that I even got you involved… you are the closest friend I have made in a very long time.”

Friend… just like that her world crumbles this whole time she had only been a friend to Gi- Hun and nothing more? All the late nights thinking of him. How (Y/n) casually would scroll through their texts… Each sweet compliment or kind gesture from Gi- Hun meant nothing but… friendship… (Y/n) refused to let her emotions show now.

“Yeah, what are friends for! I know you would do the same for me if the roles were reversed… or at least I would hope so.” She felt her cheeks warm up as he stood gazing down at her. Gi- Hun pulled her into a hug needing more physical contact. (Y/n) quickly embraces him as well, feeling the need to act as if this was no more than a friendship.

“I don't know what I would do without you.” He whispered. It was breaking Gi- Hun to tell her this was nothing more than a friendship because he craved more. But he didn't need to put a target on her back. If she got caught up in these horrid games… if they killed her… Gi- Hun wouldn't be able to move on.

“I should get going. I have some more paths to lay out with my men. They need to know where to head for next week.” (Y/n) pulled back, turning to leave.

Gi- Hun grabbed the small of her forearm, “Wait! How about we get some drinks tomorrow. It's an off day… I would really like to treat you… Come here and I’ll take you somewhere nice… as professional friends of course!” It took a moment for her to respond properly, she had to make sure her voice did not waver, not in front of him anymore.

“Yeah I would love that. How does around noon sound?” She asked after receiving a confirmation from Gi- Hun (Y/n) left returning to her apartment tossing herself in the bed with a sigh. Why is she putting herself through this? The desire to cancel this meetup was close but she had to see him… She craves Seong Gi- Hun.

-To Be Continued.

[twrk11]

NSFW Jabberwock member headcanons + small explanation | 18+ minors dni

A/N : Hello!!! I’ve been quite busy, I have a few things in the works. Sorry it’s been a hot minute! I’ll try to be more active and post , for now have this <3 + sorry it’s kinda short </3

Content: Haru Sagara x reader, Towa Otonashi x reader, Ren Shiranami x reader. Readers gender not specified (Though breeding is brought up). Intercourse, masturbation, just generally what they’re like during sex.

words: 842

Read under the cut!!

Haru Sagara -

-Starting out strong, I firmly believe he has a breeding kink. Though.. He doesn’t actually want a kid. Primally, yes. Logically, no. He has too much on his plate! Besides he’s spending so much money on the anamolous animals, so the actual act of impregnating you will have to wait! (Even though he desperately wants to fill you until his cum oozes out of you).

-I think during sex he loves to touch you. I feel that he’d be very verrrryy handsy, rubbing on your stomach, chest, hips, thighs, anything he can really grab onto. You’re in missionary? He’s hugging you with his body pinning yours. He’s fucking you from behind? Same thing. He loves any position he’s able to hug you while rutting into your holes.

-While he does LOVE to hold you and hug you during sex, he does absolutely adore when you ride him. He’s a tired man, he has so much to do! He’s exhausted and needs to save his energy.. so seeing you bounce up and down on his cock makes him and his dick happy. Oh, but you best believe he has his hands all over your hips, thighs, waist, anything they can really hold.

-Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he enjoys foreplay and long sessions. But, harping back on the fact he’s busy, he really enjoys quickies. When he doesn’t have the time to go all out and have a night where you can each savor each other(which is pretty often.), he loves a good quick fuck.

-Probably a switch!!

Towa Otonashi-

-I imagine Towa would be a mixed bag. He’s probably interested in a couple things. He’s definitely read or seen sex scenes in the romantic media he consumes. And because of that.. there’s a wide range of what he’s seen. He surely would ADORE more romantic, loving sex.

-Adding onto that thought of him enjoying romantic intimacy, he’d be a bit like Haru with wanting to hug you. I’m sure any position that allows you both to be as close as possible makes him very aroused.

-As well as that, he’d love to kiss you while thrusting into you right where it feels best.

-He really does find delight in making you feel good. He puts your pleasure FIRST, he wants to be the best lover he possibly can be. Because after all, you are soulmates!

-He’s most likely a switch, whatever makes you most happy he’d love to do whatever it takes.

-If you’re interested in more rough, and carnal lovemaking, he will do it! He’s read and watched plenty of smut, though he probably would be a bit nervous to hurt you too bad. He loves you after all. Definitely enjoys more sensual intercourse.

-He does however love pinning you down and restraining you, feeling overall stronger than you. During the story he seemed to enjoy the fact that you were weaker than him.

-He does like when you’re desperate and needy. In the game he does seem to enjoy being needed by you!

Ren Shiranami-

-Unlike the others, I doubt Ren would be handsy. Infact- it would definitely take a while before he’d feel comfortable fucking you.

-That does not stop him from masturbating to you however.

-He’d probably save any voice note he could and any pictures you’ve posted, and when he can he’ll rub one out. Of course with the door and window padlocked - and he’d pray Haru wouldn’t pick the lock.

-While playing his games, he’d definitely choose a character that looks most like you or acts like you and immediately makes them his favorite. (He loves when there’s fan service for them or whenever someone makes nsfw art of them, and strokes his dick while imagining it’s you.)

-Though when he does finally feel ready for sex with you, in the mood, and is accustomed to doing so, he’d love teasing you. He’s so rude in every other situation, of course he’s gonna be mean during sex!

-He’d edge you sooooo much, he would take forever to let you cum. (Although.. not too long depending on what Haru is doing. Doesn’t want to risk him walking in on this! He’s embarrassed he’s doing something ‘normies’ do.)

-Probably likes degrading you.

-Though I will say, anything during sex he’s very embarrassed to do. Degrading you, teasing you, it’s really gonna be hard for him to jump that hurdle. So do expect that it’s gonna take a while before he has sex with you, and even then it’ll be awkward when you do until it comes more naturally.

-Ontop of that, adding on that he’s not handsy, and hesitant. He’d like any position that makes it so you and him don’t touch too much. Just your ass and his hips touching are enough for him.

-Probably dominant, he needs to be in control of how much contact is made and since it’s so new to him and most likely makes him nervous he needs to be able to go at his pace.

[hedwig221b]

hii could we get a snippet of the twilight story ? 👉👈

hellooo, of course! 🖤 [everything famously goes to shit after this so I am excited to write it. Also I am twisting things up regarding the plot here, I hope you'll like it when it comes out]

“DEREK!”

Instantly, the wolves tensed. At the sound of Cora’s scream, the smiles fell from their faces and their eyes turned to the forest.

Stiles’ heart thudded in apprehension, but before he could ask what it was, Cora ran out of the forest, pale as snow.

“It’s him,” she rasped, halting before them and breathing heavily. She glanced at Stiles then turned her terrified gaze on Derek. “Take him and run.”

“There’s no time.” It was Talia: she walked briskly out of the house with George following her. She glanced at Stiles before lowering her hand on Derek’s shoulder. Her face was grim. “Stay with him.”

Derek, suddenly as pale as his sister, nodded. His teeth clacked as he clenched them.

“What—”

Derek turned to him, catching his hand in a steady grip. “Don’t talk,” he muttered, trying hard not to sound desperate. “Don’t move, don’t look him in the eyes. Stay behind me. Here,” he pulled the hoodie off Stiles, took off his jersey, and wrapped it around him — all of it within a second.

His hands were shaking.

“It won’t help,” said Cora, sending a complicated look at Stiles. It called for him to cower, but he resisted. “I can smell him across the field.”

Derek squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and shook his head as if he struggled to believe it was happening. It was something Stiles had never seen before—

No.

No, he did see it. That day of the car crash. He had seen this look on Derek’s face right before he ran.

Fear.

Derek shoved Stiles behind him, hiding him from the view. Stiles held Derek’s hand behind his back, gripping it with equal strength, and pressed his other palm to the center of Derek’s back. The others made half a circle around them, standing straight and still, their eyes as golden as the sun.

Never before had Stiles felt so incredibly human.

They waited and waited, until suddenly, Derek tensed so hard he turned into a statue.

“Hello, Talia.”

[ourzeui]

please don't be a snitch!

PAIRING caitlyn kiramman x f!reader

TYPE oneshot

NOTE this is in modern setting! reader has a twin, and they have opposite personalities (reader = a lil' shy; twin = brazen)

CW mature themes, alcohol use, suggestive content, strong language (cursing!!), anxiety/stress

11:59 PM — Friday night.

This was definitely a bad fucking idea.

You repeatedly glance at your wrist watch, legs fidgeting as you try so hard to not leave your twin sister alone. Heart ramming against your chest, you desperately hope your sister will soon get tired from dancing around the room and decide that both of you will just go home and rest. Because, anytime now, your strict parents would realize that both of you still aren’t home and would go berserk once they find out you’re out clubbing. In other words, you and your sister would be killed. Both metaphorically and literally.

This wasn’t your idea in the first place. The thought of random people just eating each other’s faces out, touching each other’s bodies where one thing leads to another… it, uh, just rubs you off in the wrong way. You just can't shake off the feeling that there's a big possibility that something bad might happen, with the alcohol driving people mad crazy. If your twin sister didn’t force you to go with her, you’d probably never step foot in a club. Ever.

You can’t help but cringe as you see your sister flirt with another guy for what seems like the twentieth time today. Both of them giggle on the corner of the room, shamelessly checking each other out. A minute later, the guy drags your flushed twin to one of the random rooms, no doubt going to do…whatever it is that they’re going to do.

Upon realizing what’s happening, your heart immediately drops to the floor. Despite having absolutely zero hook-up experience, you definitely know where that is going.

“That shithead,” you curse under your breath as you hurriedly try to follow your sister and her partner. Squeezing through the sweaty dance floor, you see your twin giggle as the guy playfully pushes her inside the room, followed by the door slamming with a loud thud despite the blasting disco music. You wonder how desperate could your sister be for deciding to follow a random man alone in a closed room knowing what could possibly happen.

Well, your sister did repeatedly say she was "dying to get laid" months prior. Maybe today was the day she was finally getting that.

But maybe today was also the day she’s going to die because she’s about to do something she might regret for the rest of her life (+ your parents will, again, definitely k-word both of you if she’s caught).

Before you could even approach the door, you spot a familiar blue-haired woman, sitting down cross-legged near the bar counter.

Caitlyn.

Upon seeing her, your heart drops the second time, beads of sweat forming on your temples. Both you and your sister should get out now, because if Caitlyn sees you and asks where your sister is, both of you should be prepared to never see the light of day again.

Here's the thing: Caitlyn's parents are close friends of your parents, so it's inevitable that you'd often meet each other. Both of you had never shared a proper conversation before though, just a few hello's and a "Can you please pass me the sauce?" over the table during family dinners.

One thing you know about Caitlyn though is that she always does what she thinks is right.

…She will be a snitch if she wants to.

The reason why her presence right now is so unnerving is because you can't forget the day how your mother made her promise that she should tell her immediately if "one of her daughters are caught doing crazy things", and Caitlyn always keeps her promises.

And just your luck, Caitlyn looks up at the perfect time, her piercing blue eyes locking on yours.

You freeze.

She tilts her head slightly, the corner of her mouth curling in what looks suspiciously like amusement. You can already feel the lecture forming, not from her but from your parents, the second she makes that phone call.

She picks up a glass, takes a sip, and then—oh no—stands up, walking through the crowd until she’s standing right in front of you, effortlessly poised despite the chaos around you both.

“Funny seeing you here,” she says, her voice smooth but carrying a note of dry humor.

“This—this isn’t what it looks like,” you stammer, hating how defensive you sound.

She raises a brow. “Isn’t it? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like your sister just disappeared into a room with a guy who probably doesn’t know her name, and you’re about to have a heart attack trying to figure out what to do about it.”

You wince. “Okay, maybe it is what it looks like. But—”

"But you didn’t want to be here in the first place,” Caitlyn finishes for you, crossing her arms. “And now you’re stuck cleaning up the mess.”

You nod, a little surprised she understands so easily.

“Let me guess,” she says, her smirk growing. “You’re worried I’m going to tell your parents.”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. The rate of your heartbeat increases each second, and you fidget your fingers.

Caitlyn sighs, shaking her head. “Relax. I’m not going to snitch.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” she says simply. Then she leans in slightly, her voice quieter but firm. “But I am going to help you.”

“Help me?” You blink, confused.

“Yes,” she says, rolling her eyes slightly like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because if you go barging into that room on your own, you’ll probably make things worse. So, let’s handle this together before your sister does something she regrets.”

You hesitate, unsure if you can trust her, but something about her calm, confident attitude is reassuring.

“Why would you help me?” you ask.

She shrugs, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Because I’ve been in your shoes before. And honestly? It’s better than having your mom yell at me for not stepping in.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

Caitlyn’s smile widens, just slightly, and for the first time, it feels genuine. “Follow my lead.”

Instead of heading toward the room, Caitlyn gestures toward the bar.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, looking between her and the door where your sister disappeared.

“Relax,” she says, grabbing two stools. “We’ll give it a minute. If we charge in too quickly, your sister’s just going to get defensive and make things worse. Trust me on this.”

You hesitantly sit beside her, tapping your fingers against the counter. Caitlyn orders herself a soda, which surprises you. “Not drinking?” you ask.

She shakes her head. “I like to keep a clear head in places like this. Too many people lose theirs.”

You nod slowly, watching her as she takes a sip. For someone who’s in a club, surrounded by chaos, she seems so calm, like none of this fazes her.

“So… do you come here often?” you ask awkwardly, desperate to fill the silence.

She laughs softly. “Not really. A friend dragged me out tonight, but she ditched me for some guy about an hour ago.”

You wince. “Sounds familiar.”

Caitlyn smiles, her eyes meeting yours. “Yeah, but at least I ended up with better company.”

You blink, heat rising to your cheeks. “Oh.”

There’s a beat of silence before she speaks again, her voice softer. “You’re a good sibling, you know that?”

You scoff. “I’m just trying to keep her out of trouble.”

“Exactly.” She tilts her head, studying you. “Not everyone would go through this kind of mess for someone else. It says a lot about you.”

Her words catch you off guard, and you find yourself fidgeting under her gaze. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is,” she insists, her tone warm but firm. “And I think it’s admirable.”

Before you can respond, Caitlyn glances toward the door where your sister disappeared. She sighs and stands. “Alright, I think we’ve waited long enough. Ready to be the hero?”

You nod, your heart racing as you follow her. But as you walk beside her, you notice the way her shoulder brushes against yours, the way her presence somehow makes you feel less panicked and more… safe.

Your heart flutters again, and you stare intently on Caitlyn's back. BUT, your heart drops for the third time today as your phone rings.

Mom <3 Missed call (34) Slide for more

Shit.

© ourzeui, 2025

[calicocita]

KAMO CHOSO: ❝ MORAL SUPPORT. ❞

choso would never openly admit that his biggest fantasy was having you as his under the desk support while he's gaming.

what your boyfriend didn't know is that you had to control yourself from begging him to let you give him head every time you saw him playing his stupid little video games.

at least not until you reached your fucking limit.

if you didn't know your boyfriend well, you would think he was teasing you. by the way he spread his legs across the chair, or the way he groaned at the monitor, throwing his arms around the headrest.

and it really didn't help that he the only thing he was wearing was his matching pair of hello kitty sweatpants he'd gotten for you two.

"sorry, baby, just finishing up this round," choso said as he you got crawled out of his bed and walked towards him. he didn't look at you, maybe if he did he would've known what was coming.

"don't worry, cho, i just wanted to show you my support," you purred into your boyfriend's ear, dragging your nails (that he paid for) down his neck, making his whole body shiver.

you continued to drag your nails down his arms, his naked torso, as you placed yourself between his legs, under the tight space under his desk. choso's eyes followed your every movement like he could not believe what was happening. the clicking sound coming from his keyboard grew more and more sporadic.

"what are you—argh," choso quickly covered the microphone on his headset, just in time to muffle his whimpering voice as you brought your tongue to his abdomen, making your way down his happy trail. "baby, i-i'm on a call with the—ngh—the boys."

"then we better be quiet, huh?" you replied, before placing your parted lips on top of his bulge. choso bucked his hips at the slight touch, making you giggle. even through his sweatpants, you could feel how hard and ready he was for you, even though you had barely touched him. so cute. "can you be good for me, hm?"

he couldn't take his eyes off of you, completely mesmerized. his mic was still covered but you could hear his friends' voice coming from his headset.

"bro, you still there?"

"are we still playing?"

"the fuck, choso?!"

"y-yeah, 'm here," choso finally replied, doing his best to ignore the fact that the hottest woman alive was making his biggest fantasy come true at that very moment.

you stared at him through your lashes. he looked so damned adorable when he was concentrated like that. the sound of clicking coming from his keyboard and mouse was relentless—it made you wonder if that had anything to do with how dexterous he was at making you feel good with his hands.

you pulled the band of his sweatpants down, releasing his cock, which spun freely to your face. you felt choso choke as you grabbed him, slowly starting to pump his cock, eyeing it like it was a piece of candy. you looked up at your boyfriend, hungry eyes meeting his half lidded gaze and flushed cheeks. you could see how hard he was trying not to moan for you, sucking his breath through gritted teeth, trembling under your touch.

you made sure to not break eye contact as you took him in your mouth, letting out a moan from deep in your throat. choso could swear that his heart stopped for a second.

"you good, choso?" you recognized yuji's voice.

"y-yeah, all good." choso managed to reply before muting.

he looked down at you, his beautiful girlfriend, loudly slurping on his cock, barely containing your moans. he watched you as you popped his cock out of your mouth like a lollipop, just to suck on his balls, pumping his cock with your hand, while you layed your face on his thigh, staring up at him.

"so good f-for me, cho," you hiccuped mid sentence, you sounded so cock drunk and looked so fucked out that choso almost came right there.

he couldn't take it anymore.

choso could barely hear his friends yelling at him for leaving the round, he couldn't care less. he lowered his headset before grabbing you by your hair, desperately fucking your mouth. the perfect gagging noises you made blurred his mind, till all he could think about was how fucking perfect you looked with your pretty face stuffed with his cock.

he held your head in place as he came undone and watched you swallow every drop of his cum before collapsing on his chair, audibly whimpering. choso ran his fingers languidly through your hair as you licked him clean.

"thank you, baby. i love you so much," he mumbled before pulling you in for a kiss.

[sillystarwrites]

Caught - Daisuke x GN! Reader

Type: silly fluff!! Gender neutral reader, as usual. lil bit of cursing too.

Summary: reader & Daisuke go out to steal sweetener packets, but somebody catches them red (or pink ig??? The sweetener IS pink) handed. They’re (possibly?) cooked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were resting after a long day of work on the Tulpar, letting your bed practically swallow you and your exhausted self whole. Until you heard light knocking at the door to your quarters, which got a bit rougher as the person out there called your name.

“Y/N! Y/NNN!!! Come on, get out here!” Daisuke whisper-shouted. It was that time again. Your weekly sweetener raid. It was more for him rather than you, but you indulged in the snacking sometimes.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” you groaned, adjusting your pajamas as you stepped out of bed, opening the door to reveal your partner in crime. He was also dressed in pajamas, but predictably wore his Hello Kitty ones as he usually did. 

“You’re so slow!” he playfully complained.

“You’re just impatient.” you clapped back.

“Oh whatever!” he grabbed your hand, carefully dragging the two of you to the ship’s kitchen, careful not to make too much sound while going down the halls. 

It looked like it was really space in there, the void nearly endless down the corridors. You saw the area outside the kitchen illuminated in blue by the massive night screen in the living room. “Shh, quiet down!” Daisuke whispered as you entered the small kitchen area.

“I didn’t even-“ 

“Shhh!” He had to be messing with you, or just stupid. It was the former, by the way. “Anyway,” he attempted to fidget with the packet dispenser as you leaned against the counter, “you remember the code for the packets, right?”

“No? Why would I?” You responded, “This is mostly for you anyway.”

“Oh. Well damn,” his voice flattened, “I don’t remember it either. It’s probably in that book thing though, right?”

“Already there.” You beat him to it, leaning down in front of the book, flipping until you found…right. “We need the code scanner…”

“O-kayyy!” He responded with obviously fake optimism, “We can just guess, right? Or break it.” He spoke, jokingly or not.

“I mean you can try, I’m not sure if-“

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

You’re screwed. Three wrong guesses and the machine thinks there’s a burglar or something.

“Shit, shit, shit!” He panicked, desperately trying to turn it off, but what did he need now? The code scanner!!!!!! Because of course you two did. What else would you two need? “Man, I’m never gonna get a good reference with this!” and he still worried about that.

“Fuck.” now you were panicking too, as what you assumed to be Captain Curly’s thudding footsteps rang down the hallways, “Best thing to do is face the music, like Swansea always says, right? He‘ll still be mad, but proud of us for facing it, right?” You tried to calm Daisuke, knowing him to stress a bit easily.

“You’re like- totally right now that I think about it…that makes sense I suppose.”

“What are you two doing?” Curly interrupted the small moment, groggily walking towards the kitchen.

“We were gonna get some sweetener packets, but uh, neither of us remembered the code…” the intern sheepishly admitted, leaning against the counter in an attempt to seem casual.

“Really? That’s it?” Curly yawned, “I think I remember the code to turn it off, just let me…” he trailed off, walking behind you two and fiddling with the machine for a moment before silence filled your ears.

“Thanks, Captain.” You mumbled, still a bit embarrassed.

“Of course, kiddo,” he turned to you two, “just…don’t do that again, okay you two? I’ll let it slide this time, just be more careful.” He handed the both of you one sweetener packet, tiredly smiling, “And get some sleep while you’re at it, yeah?” he suggested, before heading back to his room.

“That went…a lot better than I thought.” You said.

“Same, I thought he’d like, totally get mad.” Daisuke agreed, still a bit shaken.

“You can take my packet by the way, I’m not hungry.” You handed your pink packet to him. 

“Oh, thanks man! You’re the best!” He hugged you briefly, “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight.” You yawned, watching him jog back to his quarters.

You took a seat at the couch, admiring the nighttime screen for a bit, before exhaustion got the best of you, forcing you to drag yourself to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I love writing for my boy Daisuke sm…someone request more of him. Or Anya. I like Anya too.

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hello! Could I request Legolas, Aragorn, Boromir, and Faramir reactions to you accidentally walking in on them having a little “fun” with themselves 😉

(YES I'm a slut for all of these guys so it would be my pleasure! also apologies for the wait, its been a weird couple months 😅 I figured this worked a bit better with an already established relationship so hope you enjoy :D)

(Includes Legolas, Aragorn, Boromir, Faramir (separate) x gender neutral reader - established relationship - warnings for smut/allusions to smut obviously)

Legolas:

Legolas can usually keep his desire very well contained, so if he's reached this point you can safely assume he's getting desperate. This also means that he's almost ashamed when you catch him in such a state. He'll cover himself as fast as possible, despite the fact that you've seen it all before, and the tips of his ears turn pink as he mumbles apologies. He might need some assurance that you don't mind before he settles, and will fumble over his words slightly when you offer to lend a hand... literally.

"I would not want to impose, meleth nin..."

"You're not. I want to help you..."

Aragorn:

Provided he's in a safe space, this is one of the few times Aragorn completely lets his guard down. He's so used to getting himself off quickly, almost roughly, as a matter of necessity, so his hand only slows when he feels your own over the top. He startles slightly at the contact and laughs breathily when he sees you, your hand moving to replace his own with a much softer pace. You leave little room for argument when you capture his lips in a kiss.

"My love..."

"No need to be so rushed with yourself. Let me..."

Boromir:

Boromir is not shy around you at all and barely even pauses what he's doing when you walk in on him, though his pace does slow. He's also the most likely to tease you over it. In your defence, it's rather difficult to look your love in the eyes when his hand is still moving over his cock. He'll joke about wanting your assistance, but will never pressure you if you're not in the mood.

"I'd appreciate your help sweetheart, but if you'd rather watch then I couldn't refuse such a pretty audience..."

Faramir:

Faramir is a little more on the reserved side, though not nearly as much as Legolas. He visibly tenses up when someone enters the room, but he relaxes again as soon as he sees it's you. (He will deny that he's blushing though, even though he's definitely flustered by the object of his imagination appearing so suddenly.) He'll gently encourage you to stay, if you want, not wanting to outwardly say he wants your help but definitely implying it.

"I... I'd appreciate it if you stayed, darling..."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hello again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The tension remains. It feeds into your anxiety. An impatience that needles in your chest. You want to get this done with. You want to go home. But each time that desperate yearning tweaks, you remember that you won’t be going home. Not right away. You’ll be going back to Andy’s. 

He holds the door for you again as you enter the pharmacy. You roll your tank with you, reminded by the squeaky wheels of the constant companion. It’s like a part of you. It keeps the parts of you that don’t work from failing completely. That thought makes you feel even smaller. 

Again, you walk down that middle aisle. The pharmacist greets you and Andy together. He replies as you stay quiet and browse the lozenges lined up under the window. 

“I don’t think we have her insurance on file,” the pharmacist says as he puts in the amount owing. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just give us a receipt and we’ll make a claim.” Andy assures. 

“I have...” you reach into your belt bag and sift around. “Here.” 

You pull out the card you keep on you at all times. There will still be a copay owing. You don’t have money on you. Your mother is always sure to swipe her card with a tut. 

“Um, I don’t... I don’t have the credit card,” you mutter at Andy. 

“That’s fine,” he steps closer, pressing against you. 

The pharmacist keys in your insurance number and hands the card back. You accept it with a sheepish smile. Your chest is tight and your cheeks are scalding. He taps the enter button and looks at Andy. 

“Five bucks, left over.” 

“Even?” Andy says lightly as he reaches into his back pocket, “no problem.” 

He opens his wallet and plucks out a bill, handing it over. You sink down in shame. You can’t even pay a couple bucks for your livelihood. The pharmacist hands over the stapled white bag with the receipt and script attached.  

Andy takes it and reads the label as the pills rattle inside. His eyes narrow as his gaze turns pensive. He clucks his tongue and offers you the bag. You thank him and hug it against your side. 

“I’ll get mom to pay you back,” you assure him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves you off. “Like I said yesterday, I want to help out.” He gestures you ahead of him. You turn and head back toward the front of the store. He’s only a step behind you, trailing like your shadow. “Hey, do you think you could do me one favour?” 

You approach the door and grab the metal handle. The bag presses against it in your grasp as you try to pull it open. It’s heavier than you expect. Your pills drop and hit the floor. You gasp but before you can retrieve them, Andy scoops them up. 

He hands them over again. You look at him and frown, “what?” 

He opens the door and lets you through first. He follows again. “Did you want to write down all your appointments for me? I’d like to put them in my calendar. Just in case.” 

“My... appointments?” You echo as he points you toward his car. 

“Sure. Your mom must be stretched thin as it is. Might be why she gets a bit snappy. If I can help a little...” 

“You-- you don’t have to,” you murmur. 

“I want to,” he opens the passenger door. He hauls up your tank, dragging it from your grasp, and sets it in the SUV. “Must be hard, living in the hospital.” He offers his hand. “Your mom says you don’t have any friends.” 

Your eyes glaze at once. You’re humiliated. What else does your mom tell him for him to think you so pathetic? You grab his hand and heave yourself up into the car. 

“Thanks,” is all you can muster as you untangle the air tube and get your seat belt in place. 

He gently shuts the door and goes around to the other side. You squeeze the bag and look out the window, ignoring Andy as he gets in the driver’s seat. He doesn’t say another word as he turns the engine and patiently waits to pull out of the spot. 

He idles at a stop sign and flips on the stereo. You flinch and look over as the station titles flash across the display in the middle of the dashboard. He stops on a Current Hits station. 

“Bet you like this stuff,” he says as the sultry pop plays. 

You’ve never heard this song. You focus as you try to make out the lyrics. 

‘Say you can't sleep, baby, I know 

That's that me espresso 

Move it up, down, left, right, oh 

Switch it up like Nintendo’ 

Your eyes widen as you pick up the innuendo. You shift in your seat and lean into the door. You grip the handle of the tank tighter. 

“I don’t know this one,” you eke out. 

“Really? I heard this girl was really popular.” 

“Um, I’m not sure.” 

“It’s not bad, is it?” He taps his thumb so the volume increases. “I’ve heard worse, for sure.” 

You wallow in the rhythm and the lyrics. You can’t relate much to them.  

‘Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya...’ 

You try not to be prudish. It isn’t that sex stuff scares you or that you think it’s wrong. You just don’t know much about it. You don’t have the experience. You never had the chance to. It’s just a mystery that makes you feel stupid. 

“I like it,” he bobs his head, “what about you?” 

You shrug, “she has a nice voice.” 

You stare out at the streets as he drives on. The music doesn’t get much better. It seems like every song that’s popular is about... that. You zone out and let the words blur together. 

The car stops and the sudden lack of motion makes you dizzy. You sit up and undo your belt as you peek out at Andy’s house. You hope your mom is awake. She’ll probably want to go home. 

You get out before Andy can grab you or the tank again. As helpful as he is, it’s a bit suffocating. You don’t want to tell him so because you know he means well. Besides, after everything he’s done, it would be rude. 

He patiently trails you to the front door. You watch him punch in the door code, reminded of the coincidence that they perfectly align with your birth date. Does he realise? He would’ve had all your info to file the case and all that. You shake off that memory. You’re still recovering from all that. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks as he pushes the door open and steps back to let you inside. 

“Nothing, just... thinking of... stuff.” 

“The case?” He guesses easily. 

“Maybe,” you enter and stop to slip off your sneakers. 

“Did I tell you how good you did, sweetheart? You know, it’s a lot for most people but you really were so well-spoken,” he praises. 

“Mm, oh thanks, I guess,” you mutter. 

Before he can reply, your mother’s voice calls from the second floor. “Andy, is that you? Oh, my head.” 

She appears at the top of the stairs. She’s in a robe that’s too big for her. Probably his. She keeps her hand against her temple as she leans on the banister post. 

“There you are. I didn’t know where you’d gone.” She mopes. 

“Like I said, we just went to get her script,” Andy states flatly. 

“You were a rather long time,” she counters, swaying at the top of the stairs, “I missed you.” 

“Hm, well, it was a bit of a wait,” he says curtly. 

You inch away from Andy and your mom sneers in your direction, “I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” 

“All good,” he assures, “it’s after noon. You should get dressed.” 

“Mm, yes, I suppose,” she sniffs. 

“I’m... I’m going to go to the guest room, make sure I have everything,” you utter. 

Andy sighs. “Sure, I gotta get back to work. Gotta make a call.” 

You climb the stairs as your mother disappears with a stomp. She isn’t happy with Andy’s dismissal. You go down the hall as a door slams. You go into the guest room, happy to hide there, knowing you already have everything with you. You’ll wait there until she’s ready to go. 

You stare out the window. That song is stuck in your head. The beat is good and catchy. Still, the lyrics make you squirm. 

The door swings open behind you. You cough as you face your mother’s blustery entrance, “what did you do?” 

You blink at her cluelessly, “mom?” 

“Yes, obviously you’ve pissed him off, so tell me, what did you do? I told you, I’d get the pills.” 

“I didn’t-- he said—he wanted too--” 

“Oh it’s never your fault,” she hisses. “After everything we’ve done and you just keep taking, don’t you?” 

“Mom, he only... we went to the pharmacy.” 

“You could wait. You’re not running dry on any of your precious pills. Like an addict.” 

You frown. The meds you take aren’t addictive, even if you are reliant on them. If it was up to you, you wouldn’t choose any of this. 

“No, I didn’t--” 

She storms towards you and grabs the belt bag around your waist. You squeal as she rips open the zipper and reaches inside. She tosses the contents onto the floor. 

“I’m missing a bottle of Xanax,” she snarls. “And you’ve been so spacy, haven’t you?” 

“Xanax?” You gulp, “no mom, I didn’t-- I wouldn’t.” 

“I’m not stupid. All you do is sit around and feel sorry for yourself and now you’ve got Andy doing it too.” She snarls and jerks by the belt bag, your air tube slipping off your ears. You cough and push against her. 

“Mom, please, not here. When we get home--” 

“So you took them!” She accuses. 

“No, mom--” 

“You’re such a lying little bitch,” she snarls. Her eyes flare like a snake’s. When she gets like this, she can’t stop. “I didn’t raise you to be a thief.” 

You struggle with her, trying to get her hands off the belt. When you can’t free yourself from her grasp, you push on the clasp and release it. She stumbles back as the bag comes loose and you stagger at the sudden release of tension. You fall back against the window sill and whimper. 

“I swear, mom, I didn’t take anything,” you plead and shield yourself behind your hand.  

She looks at the slack bag in her hand. She considers it as she tightens her hold on the empty pouch. She pulls her arm back and swings it at you. The plastic clasp hits your forearm, leaving a welt there as she reels back to lash again. 

“Danica!” Andy’s voice roars through like thunder. You falter and slip down to your knees. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Your mother’s face drains and her eyes round like a deer. She lowers her arm and straightens, her expression smoothing over as she faces him. “Honey,” she purrs softly, “I was just helping--” 

“No, I saw what you did,” he crosses his arms as you sit on your feet, breathless against the wall. 

“Look, honey,” your mother nears him, “she stole from me. Antidepressants. Do you know how dangerous that is? It could affect her other medications.” 

“So you’re beating her with a belt?” He challenges. 

She chokes and shakes her head, “no, it’s not—I'm just so stressed. I put so much into taking care of her and now she’s messing around with pills--” 

“They are in your goddamn purse,” he comes forward and tears the bag out of her hand. 

“What, no. I checked--” 

He snarls and grabs her wrist, dragging her out of the room. You gape after them, stunned and confused. This can’t be real. 

You grab your tank and use it to push yourself to your feet. You limp after them as he harshly marches her down the hall. His feet bang on the stairs, making you flinch with each step. Your mother whines weakly and begs. “Andy please, you’re hurting me.” 

He lets go as he gets to the front door and he grabs her purse from the table against the wall. He reaches inside and takes out the orange bottle. He shakes it in her face. 

“Don’t talk to me about hurting you,” he barks. “After what I just saw--” 

“It’s a misunderstanding,” your mother issues a brittle laugh, “sweetie, tell him, I didn’t hurt you.” 

“You’re laughing?” He grits. “Danica, get out of my house. Right now.” 

“You have to listen--” 

“Go. Now.” He raises his voice and you shrink back, terrified. His anger is like a storm. 

You mother huffs and drops her head. She turns and straightens her posture, “fine. Come on, let’s go.” 

She snaps her fingers at you. You grip your tank tightly at your side and wheel towards the stairs. She’ll just take this out on you at home. 

“Are you insane? She’s not going with you,” he insists. 

“She’s my daughter,” your mom snarls. 

“She’s your victim,” he retorts and grabs her arm. She whines and smacks him across the face. He recoils and brings his hand to his cheek. 

She pants heavily. His jaw squares as you feel his wrath roiling from the second floor. He’s quiet as he shoves the pills back into her purse and picks the whole thing up. He pushes it into her chest. 

“Go.” 

“Andrew, my car--” 

“You’re a fucking adult. Figure it out before I call the cops.” 

“The cops—Andrew, you can’t--” 

“Oh, I can’t? Because I will have a protective order by the end of today,” he snips. 

“I have guardianship--” 

“I can have it revoked,” he growls. 

She huffs and puffs again, “Andrew, please, you don’t understand--” 

“Get.” He takes a step back and opens the door. “Out.” 

Your mother shakes her head and turns to look up at you. “Dear, please, tell him--” 

You just stare, paralysed by the scene. This can’t be real.  

She snivels and wiggles her nose, crying without tears. She faces Andy again, “she hit me first--” 

“Out.” 

She cringes and snarls, fluttering her fingers in his face, “you’ll see, honey. She’s a burden you don’t want.” She flicks her fingertips at him and scoops up her heels. “You better call the police fast before I do.” 

No sooner than she steps out of the door than Andy swings it with a shaking slam. You peer down at him as your head wobbles. You fumble around for your oxygen, shaking as you bring it over your ears. He faces you and slowly climbs the stairs. 

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go get your things together.” 

[valkyrieromanoff]

🎀CO-STAR HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN: SHARING PLEASURE🎀

words: 2.5k

warning: MDNI, +18, blowjob, description of a cock, swearing, swallowing cum,  dirty talking, pussy touching, not proofread (reason: I'm writing on my college computer lol)

a/n: hello there, so, I had a little idea of what to write next, but after @kundere20000000 amazing comment, I decided to take the plunge and write a sequel! 💖 I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also, feel free to send me requests anytime—I absolutely LOVE getting new ideas to work with. Kisses! 😘💕

You gazed up at Hayden, a coy smile playing across your kiss-swollen lips as you noticed the prominent bulge tempting the front of his jeans. The sight of his obvious arousal feels a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, reigniting the embers of your lust.

"Let me take care of you," you purred, your voice low and sultry, heavy with unspoken promises. "You've made me feel so good, Hayden. I want to return the favor, to make your cock feel as amazing as your mouth made my pussy feel."

You sat up slowly, your naked curves drawing Hayden's hungry gaze as you moved to straddle his lap. The heat of his arousal was palpable through the rough denim of his jeans, searing your bare, sensitive flesh.

As you slowly tugged down Hayden's zipper, his rigid cock sprang free, slapping up against his taut stomach with an audible thwap. Hayden groaned softly, his hips jerking slightly at the sudden sensation.

Hayden's erection was an impressive sight - thick, long and girthy, with a slight curve to the left. The skin was a shade paler than the rest of his body, a deep, dusky pink flushed with arousal. His cock head was broad and round, the tip a deeper shade of pink and already glistening with leaking precum.

Thick, pulsing veins coursed along the shaft, most notably a prominent ridge that ran from the base up to the tip, like a river of arousal. His cock was a masterpiece of masculine perfection, the ultimate embodiment of primal, carnal desire.

Hayden's balls were full and heavy, swollen with the weight of his pent-up lust. They hung low and tight against his body, a testament to his desperation for release. The musky scent of his arousal filled the air between you, a heady, intoxicating aroma that made your head spin with desire.

The combination of its size, hardness, and raw, masculine power left your mouth watering and your pussy dripping anew. You found to touch him, to taste him, to feel that thick cock stretching and filling you in ways you'd never been stretched before.

You gazed down at Hayden's magnificent cock, your eyes wide with wonder and anticipation. Licking your lips, you looked up at him through hooded, desire-darkened eyes. "Can I?" you asked softly, your voice a breathless whisper heavy with lust. "I'm looking to touch you, Hayden. I want to wrap my fingers around your thick, hard cock and feel it throb in my hand. I want to taste you, to run my tongue along the ridges and valleys of your shaft until you're dripping with my saliva and your own leaking arousal."

The sheer hunger in your gauze and the raw, unbridled desire in your voice made Hayden groan, his hips rocking upward slightly as if seeking your touch. "Fuck yes," he shouted out, his own voice rough and ragged with need. "Please love, touch me. I'm going out of my fucking mind here. I need to feel your soft hands and wicked tongue on my cock before I lose it completely."

Your smile turned unholy at Hayden's desperate plea, a glimmer of mischief sparkling in your lust-dark eyes. Without another word, you wrapped your fingers around his thick, throbbing shaft, eliciting a strangled moan from Hayden's lips.

"Yes, fuck!" he groaned, his head falling back against the couch as your hand tightened around him. The heat of your palm seared his aching flesh, and he shuddered as your fingers curled and squeezed his rigid length.

His cock twitched and pulsed in your grip, the skin velvety soft over the rock-hard core beneath. You could feel the weight of his arousal, the desperate need for release thrumming through his thick veins.

Slowly, teasingly, you started to stroke his cock, your hand gliding up and down his shaft. Hayden's breath came in shorts, sharp pants, his hips rocking up to meet your touch, seeking more of your delicious friction.

As you pleasured him, you leaned in, your pillowy breasts brushing against his chest as you brought your face closer to his lap. Hayden's musky, masculine scent filled your nostrils, the aroma of pure, unadulterated lust. 

As your tongue dragged along Hayden's thick shaft, you hummed in blissful delight, your eyes fluttering closed to savor his delicious taste. His arousal was sugary and briny at the same time, making your mouth water with anticipation. It filled your senses and clouded your mind with a haze of lust, urging you to take more of it into your mouth.

Unable to resist the temptation of his rigid flesh, you dragged your tongue along his cock once more, tracing the thick vein that pulsed with need. Hayden shuddered and groaned above you as you lapped at him like a kitten sipping cream, revealing in the taste and feel of his hot, hard length.

Emboldened by the effect your touch was having on the gorgeous man beneath you, you took a deep breath and wrapped your soft, plush lips around the broad head of his cock. Your mouth stretched obscenely as you sank down, taking him deeper inch by throbbing inch.

Hayden let out a guttural moan as he felt your warm, soft lips wrap around his aching cockhead, your mouth enveloping him like the most exquisite of silken sheaths. The heat of your mouth was unlike anything he had ever experienced, your tongue swirling around the sensitive crown of his manhood as if savoring the flavor of his arousal.

"Fuuuck, love," he groaned, his fingers tangling almost desperately in his voluminous curls. "Your mouth feels incredible. The way your tongue is teasing me, tasting me... fuck, I don't know how long I'll last if you keep that up."

He bucked his hips slightly, pushing himself deeper into the heavenly warmth of his mouth. Inch after thick inch of his rigid flesh disappeared between your stretched lips as Hayden lost himself in the bliss of your skilled ministrations.

You could feel Hayden's cock throbbing and pulsing against your tongue, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart. The salty-sweet taste of its leaking essence coated your taste buds, making your own arousal spike with each passing second.

Hayden's groans and moans filled the small trailer as you began to bob your head, taking him deeper with each pass. His fingers tightened in your hair, guiding your pace as you worked his impressive length in and out of your mouth. "That's it, love," he rasped, his gravely voice strained with pleasure. "Take my cock deeper. I want to feel the back of your throat when I fuck your pretty mouth."

You relaxed your throat, allowing Hayden to sink into the tight, silken heat of your mouth until the thick head of his cock kissed the back of your throat and your nose nestled in the coarse curls at the base of his shaft. His scent was velvety and alluring aroma filled your nostrils, making your pussy clench with need.

Hayden let out a strangled groan, his hips rocking up to bury himself even deeper in his welcoming mouth. "Shit, your mouth is so fucking tight and hot," he panted, fighting the urge to erupt down his throat then and there. "If you keep sucking me like that, I won't last much longer... fuuuck..."

As Hayden's cock hit the back of your throat, you hummed around his thick length, the vibrations adding a delicious new sensation. The sound sent shivers racing up Hayden's spine, his grip on your hair tightening as he fought the urge to start thrusting into your mouth.

Unable to resist the temptation, you wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, squeezing gently as you started to pump him in time with the bobbing of your head. Your other hand crept between your own thighs, slender fingers sliding through the slick folds of your aching pussy.

Hayden groaned gutturally as he felt his hand work in tandem with his mouth, his hips rocking to meet each downward motion. The dual sensations of your lush lips wrapped around him and your soft hand stroking his thick shaft pushed him closer to the edge, the coil of release tightening in his groin.

His balls drew up tight to his body, swollen and heavy with the need for relief. Hayden's rustic and robust scent grew stronger, the aroma filling the air as you pleasured him. Your own arousal soared, your fingers plunging deep into your dripping cunt, fucking yourself in time with the bobbing of your head.

Hayden's moans and grunts of pleasure echoed through the small space, a symphony of carnal bliss that spurred you on. You could taste the salt of his skin, feel the heat of his flesh burning against your lips and tongue. The thick and milky essence leaking from the tip of his cock painted your tongue with each pass, a heady sweetie you couldn't get enough of.

Hayden's fingers tightened in his hair, his grip almost painful as he struggled to maintain control. The pleasure was overwhelming, your mouth and hand working him with a skill and enthusiasm that left him reeling. He knew he wouldn't last much longer.

"Fuck, love, yes! Don't stop, please don't stop," he panted, his deep voice strained and rough with impending release. "I'm so fucking close... I'm going to... fuuuck!"

Hayden's body went rigid, his muscled frame tensing as his climax overtook him. With a guttural roar of your name, he erupted, his thick cock pulsing and throbbing as it unleashed a torrent of hot, sticky seeds directly down your eagerly awaiting throat.

Jet after jet of Hayden's essence flooded your mouth, the bitter yet satisfying taste of his cum coating your tongue. You moaned around his spurting length, the vibrations only seemed to prolong his intense orgasm. Your own hand moved frantically between your legs, fingers plunging into your clenching heat as you chased your own rapidly approaching peak.

The sheer volume of Hayden's release was astounding, far more than you had anticipated. His heavy balls emptied themselves down your greedy throat, feeding you mouthful after mouthful of his potent semen. You struggled to swallow it all, feeling it slide thick and warm down your gullet to settle heavily in your belly.

It all, Hayden groaned and shuddered above you, his throughout hips jerking erratically as the last waves of his climax crashed through him. Finally, with a last, shuddering gasp, he stilled, his softening cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop.

You released him, panting softly as you gazed up at Hayden through lust-glazed eyes. The taste of his cum lingered on your tongue, the scent of sex thick and heady in the air. Your own hand continued to move between your thighs, your fingers coated in your dripping essence. You knew you were so close, teetering on the knife's edge of your own explosive climax.

Hayden's chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, his ocean-blue eyes glazed with post-orgasmic bliss as they dropped to where his hand was buried between his thighs. The sight of your slender fingers plunging into your dripping pussy, your essence glistening on your skin, reignited the embers of his lust.

"Let me do this for you," he rasped, his voice low and rough with renewed desire. "I want to feel your perfect cunt clench and spasm around my fingers as you come undone."

Before you could respond, Hayden's hand covered yours, his long fingers curling around your wrist. He gently but firmly pushed your hand away, replacing it with his own. Hayden's touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you as he brushed your fingers along your slick folds.

Hayden's fingers delved into your dripping sex, your velvet walls parting easily to welcome him inside. He groaned at the feel of your slick heat, your body welcoming him like it was made for his touch. "Fuck, you're so fucking wet," he growled, pumping his fingers slowly, savoring the feeling of his arousal coating his digits.

He curled his fingers just so, stroking along the sensitive front wall of your pussy. Hayden's thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles around the aching bud as he fingered you with deep, purposeful strokes. Each thrust of his fingers pushed you closer to the edge, his touch igniting every nerve ending in your core.

"That's it, love," he panted, his fingers moving faster, driving into you harder. "Ride my hand, fuck yourself on my fingers. I want to feel your cunt gripping me, milking me, as you come screaming my name."

Your body trembled and quaked as Hayden's skilled fingers worked your needy pussy with single-minded determination. The obscene sound of your arousal filled the air, the wet squelching and sloppy schlicks of his digits plunging into your soaked folds echoing through the room.

Hayden's thumb rubbed mercilessly at your clit, the quick, tight circles sending jolts of electricity zipping up your spine with each pass. His other hand gripped your hip, pulling you down to meet his thrusting fingers, impaling you on his hand again and again.

The pleasure mounted rapidly, your walls starting to flutter and clutch at Hayden's pistoning fingers as your climax quickly approached. Hayden could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps, telling him you were on the spit.

"That's it, come for me," he commanded, his voice a deep, authoritative growl. "Fucking soak my hand, love. I want to feel your cunt squeezing the life out of my fingers."

With a few more swift, hard thrusts and a particularly rough grind of his thumb against your clit, Hayden feels you careening over the edge. You came with a scream of his name, your pussy clamping down on his fingers like a vice as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

Your essence gushed out, dripping down Hayden's wrist and forearm as your orgasm overtook you. He worked you through it, fingers pumping lazily as he helped you ride out the aftershocks, drawing out your pleasure for as long as possible. "Fuck yes, that's my good girl," he praised, his voice low and rough with satisfaction. "Such a perfect, responsive little thing. You came so fucking hard for me."

You gazed up at Hayden with a lazy, sated smile playing across your kiss-swollen lips. Your chest heaved softly as you struggled to catch your breath, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your intense climax.

"Thank you," you purred, your voice low and breathy, heavy with post-orgasmic bliss. "That was amazing, Hayden. I've never felt anything like that before."

Hayden's heart swelled at your words, a genuine smile spreading across his handsome face. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your sweat-dampened skin.

"My pleasure," he murmured, his voice a deep, husky rumble filled with satisfaction. "Seeing you come undone, feeling your perfect little cunt gripping my fingers so tightly... love. I'm glad I could give you that."

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to caress the soft skin of your cheek. Hayden's ocean-blue eyes sparkled with adoration and affection as he gazed down at your beautiful, blissed-out face.

"I have to confess, I'm already looking forward to doing it again," he admitted with a wink, his tone playful and full of promise. "And next time, I want to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock as you scream my name. Think you can handle that, love?"