hi lovelies, i know i made a post a few weeks ago stating that i’d come back and write for both ateez and lads, but i seriously can’t find it in me to write about ateez anymore, not like i used to.
therefore, i’ve made up my mind and decided to archive this blog and create another one—love and deepspace centered. the fanfics i’ve written on this blog will still be available for any of you who’d like to read (or reread) them, don’t worry. there’s no way in hell that i am deleting them.
to all of those who have had the trust in me and took the time to pour their thoughts and requests in my inbox, i’m genuinely sorry for not delivering what you asked for. i got many juicy requests i never got to dive into, but they’ll make a really good source of inspiration for my other account!
i’ve made many memories and friends on this account, and i can’t be more grateful, each of my moots have a piece of my heart. i’ve learned many things and improved a lot, as a writer and as a person. so i really don’t have any words other than thank you, for everything.
this is the end of an era and the beginning of a brand new one. love you all — see you on my other blog! > @nlcoleq
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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➹ summ. should’ve known better before sending nudes to your boyfriend while he’s at work. aka, another brat tamer zayne drabble.
pairing. boyfriend!zayne & fem!reader.
wc. 1,2k
disclaimer. smut (mdni!), established relationship, dom! zayne, spanking, fingering, brat!reader & brat tamer! zayne, pet names (darling, my love, dear), dirty talk, teasing, mocking.
nic’s notes ⋆ getting back on track with writing smut! <3
“start counting, love.” zayne’s voice reverberated throughout the room, his chilly monotone sending a spark down your spine.
zayne had you laid across his lap, ass resting just above his thighs as he held your hips with one hand whilst the other grabbed handfuls of your plushy asscheeks. honestly, you kinda deserved this, the position you were in, the situation you had entangled yourself in. your mind could only replay again and again the sight of zayne waltzing into your shared bedroom, his ears flushed in an adorable hue of pink, eyes dilated like a beast, and cock hard like a rock. you looked ravishing, sitting so prettily on your queen-sized bed — legs crossed, doe-eyed.
he wanted to devour you whole.
but he couldn’t. not yet. not until he punished you until he was satisfied with the results, with your state afterwards. you, his beautiful girlfriend, his sweet girl, had sent him the most sinful and perverted video before he went into the surgery room. his phone buzzed incessantly in the pocket of his lab coat, so of course he took a look at the notifications. his eyes formed the slightest of crescent moons and his lips curved to an almost invisible grin when he saw your name appear on the screen.
yet nothing could’ve prepared him for what those notifications hid behind. a video of you, completely naked, legs spread in front of a mirror with your hand sneaking through your lace panties mischievously. zayne’s eyes followed your every move carefully, utterly immersed on the show you were performing for him. you were about to move your panties to the side and insert your index and middle finger in your heat when the screen froze. any nurse that passed by him probably wondered why was akso hospital’s star, the well renowned cardiac surgeon, doctor zayne, tapping at his phone screen, both anxiously and... furiously?
the video had ended, and so he returned to your chat. a message popped on the screen: “have a good day, my love. good luck on your surgeries”, followed by a red heart. and then, you were offline, leaving him with a growing hard-on in mid-hospital, a flushed expression and-
“doctor zayne!” yvonne chimed in, a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. “you got a surgery in ten.” she raised her gaze from the notes she had been writing to meet zayne’s flustered expression. “uhh... are you doing well?”
and ten minutes to recompose.
so now here you were — skirt pooled above your hips, your white laced panties fully exposed. a harsh spank landed on your right asscheek and you jolted, gasping at the sting. you scrunched your eyes, yet his almost clinical voice pulled you out of your train of thought.
“i don’t hear you counting, darling.” he hit your bottom again, a whimper escaping your lips unconsciously. a loving hand immediately came to soothe the pain, his calloused palm rubbed soft circles on your ass. “start over. mess up, and i’ll start all over again. understood?”
you mewled under his ministrations, subconsciously perking and wiggling your ass, looking for something more. you ask and you shall receive though, ‘cause another loud smack! vibrated through your skin. “i said. understood?”
he demanded sternly, eyebrows furrowed and a piercing stare that you could feel stabbing daggers along your spine. “y-yes.” you gulped, clearing your dry throat. “yes, zaynie.”
he clicked his tongue at the sound of the nickname. “fuck i love her” was the first thing that came to zayne’s mind. his gaze softened just for a moment. he’s utterly smitten with you.
his palm drew a few more scribbles on your skin before disrupting the caring touches with a loud slap. “one!” you yelped, body twitching unwittingly.
zayne showed no emotion as he heard your cries. “two!” smack! “three!” smack! “f-four!”
“you know, i could be fucking you-” he started his monologue, while still driving his hand up your bottom. “-just the way you love me to.” he whacked your skin, engrossed in the way your ass jiggled cutely with every slap. “but, you just had to be a brat, didn’t you?”
“you just had to interrupt my morning because you're too horny to wait for me to come back home,” he deadpanned, embarrassment creeping in your veins. tears crystalized your eyes as he continued with his punishment.
“was that necessary, my love? mhm?” he lowered his tone in the most condescending way, almost mocking you.
his words dripped with honey, with the tiniest pinch of sympathy, and your body responded accordingly — walls clenching around nothing, pussy drenching the lace of your panties. “i- i didn’t do anything wrong!” you hiccuped and zayne laughed, laughed at your poor attempt to defend yourself.
but he found it adorable, you know? the way you clung onto the hope that he’d forgive you and fuck you so lovingly if you stared at him with your best puppy eyes.
adorable. yet useless.
your body trembled with another spank — well, you should’ve seen that one coming. “oh yeah?” he rasped, looking at the way you grasped the sheets as if your life depended on it. “wrong answer, dear.”
another. at this point, you were sobbing from the pleasurable pain. “how many?” he asked, and your mind went blank. fuck, you forgot to count.
your voice quivered when giving your answer, “t-ten?”
he chuckled darkly, the sound giving you goosebumps. “what a fool i am for thinking you could focus on one simple task?” he spoke, voice dropping an octave. “we’re on eight, my love.” his hand crept up your thighs, surprising you a bit. “already too blissed-out to count simple numbers?”
your thighs pressed together bashfully as you hid your face in a feathery cushion. zayne could barely hear your apology, muffled by the pillowy pad.
he laughed through his nose, “sure you are, darling.” his hand snaked between your thighs, fingers collecting your sticky essence pouring out your folds. “you’re so sorry you’re even giving me the prettiest gift as an apology. isn’t that right, hm?”
his electric touch sent sparks to your limbs. you mewled before whispering, “y-yes! yes, zaynie—so please, fuck me, use me, claim me. do whatever you want to m-” an almost pornographic moan escaped you when he inserted his index in your leaking pussy, his contact turning every reasonable thought into dust. you kept whimpering as his phalanges assaulted your soft and warm insides, pressing and massaging against the right spots
his moves were natural and calculated, as if he was made for bringing you the most earth-shattering, toe-curling pleasure.
zayne chuckled whilst he continued abusing your sloppy cunt. “of course i’m planning to do so, my love. but i’ll take my sweet time,” he pushed his fingers even deeper, deliberately rubbing your g-spot. a low hum rumbled in his chest. “i’ll remind you why you mustn’t slut yourself out to get what you want.”
your back arched, reminiscing of the most perfect crescent moon. by now, you were far gone—tear-streaked cheeks, spit dripping down your chin, lips swollen from all the biting. you kept on whining as you laid there, across his lap—accepting your fate.
“patience is a virtue, you know?” he muttered under his breath, voice dropping an octave. lust and desire burned in the same eyes that sifted through dozens of medical charts daily.
now his irises were focused on analyzing your body, responding to him just the way he wanted it to.
“and i plan to complete my task. thoroughly.”
your eyes shot open, brain petrified for what awaited you.
➹ summ. should’ve known better before sending nudes to your boyfriend while he’s at work. aka, another brat tamer zayne drabble.
pairing. boyfriend!zayne & fem!reader.
wc. 1,2k
disclaimer. smut (mdni!), established relationship, dom! zayne, spanking, fingering, brat!reader & brat tamer! zayne, pet names (darling, my love, dear), dirty talk, teasing, mocking.
nic’s notes ⋆ getting back on track with writing smut! <3
“start counting, love.” zayne’s voice reverberated throughout the room, his chilly monotone sending a spark down your spine.
zayne had you laid across his lap, ass resting just above his thighs as he held your hips with one hand whilst the other grabbed handfuls of your plushy asscheeks. honestly, you kinda deserved this, the position you were in, the situation you had entangled yourself in. your mind could only replay again and again the sight of zayne waltzing into your shared bedroom, his ears flushed in an adorable hue of pink, eyes dilated like a beast, and cock hard like a rock. you looked ravishing, sitting so prettily on your queen-sized bed — legs crossed, doe-eyed.
he wanted to devour you whole.
but he couldn’t. not yet. not until he punished you until he was satisfied with the results, with your state afterwards. you, his beautiful girlfriend, his sweet girl, had sent him the most sinful and perverted video before he went into the surgery room. his phone buzzed incessantly in the pocket of his lab coat, so of course he took a look at the notifications. his eyes formed the slightest of crescent moons and his lips curved to an almost invisible grin when he saw your name appear on the screen.
yet nothing could’ve prepared him for what those notifications hid behind. a video of you, completely naked, legs spread in front of a mirror with your hand sneaking through your lace panties mischievously. zayne’s eyes followed your every move carefully, utterly immersed on the show you were performing for him. you were about to move your panties to the side and insert your index and middle finger in your heat when the screen froze. any nurse that passed by him probably wondered why was akso hospital’s star, the well renowned cardiac surgeon, doctor zayne, tapping at his phone screen, both anxiously and... furiously?
the video had ended, and so he returned to your chat. a message popped on the screen: “have a good day, my love. good luck on your surgeries”, followed by a red heart. and then, you were offline, leaving him with a growing hard-on in mid-hospital, a flushed expression and-
“doctor zayne!” yvonne chimed in, a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. “you got a surgery in ten.” she raised her gaze from the notes she had been writing to meet zayne’s flustered expression. “uhh... are you doing well?”
and ten minutes to recompose.
so now here you were — skirt pooled above your hips, your white laced panties fully exposed. a harsh spank landed on your right asscheek and you jolted, gasping at the sting. you scrunched your eyes, yet his almost clinical voice pulled you out of your train of thought.
“i don’t hear you counting, darling.” he hit your bottom again, a whimper escaping your lips unconsciously. a loving hand immediately came to soothe the pain, his calloused palm rubbed soft circles on your ass. “start over. mess up, and i’ll start all over again. understood?”
you mewled under his ministrations, subconsciously perking and wiggling your ass, looking for something more. you ask and you shall receive though, ‘cause another loud smack! vibrated through your skin. “i said. understood?”
he demanded sternly, eyebrows furrowed and a piercing stare that you could feel stabbing daggers along your spine. “y-yes.” you gulped, clearing your dry throat. “yes, zaynie.”
he clicked his tongue at the sound of the nickname. “fuck i love her” was the first thing that came to zayne’s mind. his gaze softened just for a moment. he’s utterly smitten with you.
his palm drew a few more scribbles on your skin before disrupting the caring touches with a loud slap. “one!” you yelped, body twitching unwittingly.
zayne showed no emotion as he heard your cries. “two!” smack! “three!” smack! “f-four!”
“you know, i could be fucking you-” he started his monologue, while still driving his hand up your bottom. “-just the way you love me to.” he whacked your skin, engrossed in the way your ass jiggled cutely with every slap. “but, you just had to be a brat, didn’t you?”
“you just had to interrupt my morning because you're too horny to wait for me to come back home,” he deadpanned, embarrassment creeping in your veins. tears crystalized your eyes as he continued with his punishment.
“was that necessary, my love? mhm?” he lowered his tone in the most condescending way, almost mocking you.
his words dripped with honey, with the tiniest pinch of sympathy, and your body responded accordingly — walls clenching around nothing, pussy drenching the lace of your panties. “i- i didn’t do anything wrong!” you hiccuped and zayne laughed, laughed at your poor attempt to defend yourself.
but he found it adorable, you know? the way you clung onto the hope that he’d forgive you and fuck you so lovingly if you stared at him with your best puppy eyes.
adorable. yet useless.
your body trembled with another spank — well, you should’ve seen that one coming. “oh yeah?” he rasped, looking at the way you grasped the sheets as if your life depended on it. “wrong answer, dear.”
another. at this point, you were sobbing from the pleasurable pain. “how many?” he asked, and your mind went blank. fuck, you forgot to count.
your voice quivered when giving your answer, “t-ten?”
he chuckled darkly, the sound giving you goosebumps. “what a fool i am for thinking you could focus on one simple task?” he spoke, voice dropping an octave. “we’re on eight, my love.” his hand crept up your thighs, surprising you a bit. “already too blissed-out to count simple numbers?”
your thighs pressed together bashfully as you hid your face in a feathery cushion. zayne could barely hear your apology, muffled by the pillowy pad.
he laughed through his nose, “sure you are, darling.” his hand snaked between your thighs, fingers collecting your sticky essence pouring out your folds. “you’re so sorry you’re even giving me the prettiest gift as an apology. isn’t that right, hm?”
his electric touch sent sparks to your limbs. you mewled before whispering, “y-yes! yes, zaynie—so please, fuck me, use me, claim me. do whatever you want to m-” an almost pornographic moan escaped you when he inserted his index in your leaking pussy, his contact turning every reasonable thought into dust. you kept whimpering as his phalanges assaulted your soft and warm insides, pressing and massaging against the right spots
his moves were natural and calculated, as if he was made for bringing you the most earth-shattering, toe-curling pleasure.
zayne chuckled whilst he continued abusing your sloppy cunt. “of course i’m planning to do so, my love. but i’ll take my sweet time,” he pushed his fingers even deeper, deliberately rubbing your g-spot. a low hum rumbled in his chest. “i’ll remind you why you mustn’t slut yourself out to get what you want.”
your back arched, reminiscing of the most perfect crescent moon. by now, you were far gone—tear-streaked cheeks, spit dripping down your chin, lips swollen from all the biting. you kept on whining as you laid there, across his lap—accepting your fate.
“patience is a virtue, you know?” he muttered under his breath, voice dropping an octave. lust and desire burned in the same eyes that sifted through dozens of medical charts daily.
now his irises were focused on analyzing your body, responding to him just the way he wanted it to.
“and i plan to complete my task. thoroughly.”
your eyes shot open, brain petrified for what awaited you.
the door creaked open before sylus stepped into the room, slow and muffled steps clicked against the dark wooden floor. the deal had run longer than expected and made him come home to his beloved wife much later than he would’ve preferred.
he took off his shoes and put them near his several other neat pairs. he slowly approached the king-sized bed as he took in the sight of you utterly asleep, a shirt of his only doing so much to cover the top half of your body. your disheveled hair and peaceful face softened his gaze, a satisfying wave of warmth coursing through his veins.
you’d found peace in his haven and there was nothing more soothing for sylus than that.
he bent down and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead, brushing some stray strands of hair from your face. the urge of jump on the bed and cuddle with you there and then was hard to resist. but sylus, ever the disciplined man, straightened his back and headed to the bathroom to take a much-needed shower, without looking back.
because he could fight his desires, but only for so long—and he knew that when he returned, there would be no running from them.
he took the quickest shower known to man—a quite efficient 15-minute shower. don’t get him wrong though, it may have been quick, but not for lack of effort—every second spent under the water felt like a test of self-control. the steam carried your presence in a way he’d like to deny.
with a towel hanging low on his hips, he dried his hair idly with the help of a hand towel, two yawns escaping his lips without permission. he analyzed his reflection in the mirror and paid special attention to the smudged purple that stained his under-eye bags. he needed to sleep with you, and he needed it now.
the impenetrable silence was disturbed by an abnormal scream. a terrified scream. sylus’ eyebrow perked up and his eyes shot wide open; he rushed to slam the door open the moment he recognized your voice beneath those layers of utter fear.
sylus didn’t waste any time and scanned the room—no enigmatic silhouette lurked in the shadows, everything was in place, no signs of violence.
yet there your figure laid—trembling in fear, lips quivering as your furrowed brow shrank you deeper into a dream of despair.
a nightmare.
sylus understood it too quickly to be true and moved closer to your restless body, hands carefully reaching for your face. he took in your expression—eyebrows drawn in, lips inhaling and exhaling with each rapid rise of your chest, temples sweating, tears escaping from the corner of your eyes.
how could something intangible bring down to such a state a wonderful and strong woman like you? sylus couldn’t fathom the thought—much less the possibility.
his heart clenched at the sight and immediately tried to wake you up. his soul could not bear seeing you like this, reduced to such despair.
his left hand cradled the side of your face as his thumb stroked your cheekbone. meanwhile, his right hand crept up your arm and shook your figure gently. “my beloved…” he tried, “wake up, c’mon.”
he rocked your body for a few seconds, still no response—other than your exhilarating breathing and unintelligible blubbering. “sweetie, you need to wake up.”
his arms grasped your sides and shook you a bit harder this time, successfully bringing you out of the dark abyss. with a sharp gasp, your first move was to hit your husband’s thick neck with the side of your palm—the latter could only grunt due to the impact.
the dangerous haze of paranoia dazed your mind, fake alert sirens blaring in your head. all your skillful battle techniques came in handy.
poor sylus, who only had time to blink before you were straddling him, almost directing your fist towards his nose. but the punch never landed.
his hand shot up faster than yours, gently yet firmly trapping your clenched hand. “sweetheart, look at me.” his eyes met yours. this wasn’t you—gaze drowned in panic, trembling hands under his touch. this was not his wife.
your dizzy orbs quivered as they tried to focus on something, someone. but tears filled your visual field, and you grew more desperate by the second—more vulnerable, more lost.
a ray of sunlight shone from the darkness surrounding you and materialized into a gentle touch, a soft and loving palm pushing you forward onto something firm and strong. warmth spread inside your cold, numb limbs.
sylus knew better than to act harshly. therefore, his hand glided over your back and gently pulled you towards him the moment he felt your wild strength falter, your cheek pressing against his chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
“‘m sylus, sweetie, your husband.” he muttered tenderly, his palm continuing with its ministrations along your back. “you’re safe now, i’ve got you.”
your foggy mind cleared up gradually, the only thing keeping you on your toes being the glint of your wedding ring. with squinting eyes, you suddenly recognized your surroundings—dim lighting, dark red sheets and a black bed frame, a vintage record player carefully placed in the corner of the room.
oh. you’re home.
you shifted your attention to your lover, who waited —both patient and expectantly— for you to meet his red loving eyes. your irises welled up once again. “sy…”
“yes?” his almost silent voice softened your insides, and finally, you dissolved into tears.
your voice cracked more with each sob as you sputtered everything out. “‘m sorry i-i don’t know what happened but-“ you sobbed sharply. “b-but i almost hurt you and i didn’t mean to do that at all—“
a low and soothing shhhh cut off your wobbly words, his strong arms pulling you closer, pressing you firmly against his frame. “i know, sweetie, i know.” he murmured. soon, the calm weight of silence engulfed you—truly an oddly satisfying feeling. his fingers traced delicate scribbles on your skin, gently grounding you, bringing you back down to earth.
sylus mumbled under his breath. “there’s nothing to be afraid of, my beloved.” he paused for a few seconds before continuing. “you’re home.”
the words settled deep within you, offering a comfort you’ve never felt before. wrapped in his embrace, the tremor in your chest slowly eased, each breath falling back into rhythm with his. home was not the room, nor the ring glinting on your hand—it was this: the steady rise of his chest beneath your cheek, the quiet certainty that you were safe, loved, and no longer alone.
oh mean!sylus how i love you...also everyone say thank you @mwphisto for convincing me to break my posting schedule
Sylus didn't punish you very often.
He simply never felt the need to. No matter how bratty or rude you were being, he always just found it amusing. His fiery little kitten, cursing and stomping her feet at him.
But sometimes you'd push just a little too far, and Sylus was forced to put you back in your place.
"Please-please move!" You whine quietly, trying to grind your hips from where you're perched in his lap. Of course, it's futile with his evol holding you in place. He relishes in this really, watching you pout and complain while getting even more drenched the longer you sit speared on his cock.
"I thought you said you didn't like the way I fuck you? How did you say it exactly...I'm 'too soft and sweet' in bed?" He mocks you with his tone, ruby eyes boring into your sheepish ones.
Sylus knows you like it rough sometimes, and the easiest way to get what you want is to try and rile him up. More often than not, he'll play along, overstimulating you meanly until you're begging for a break.
"I-I do like it! I just-ugh-need more!" You strain against the energy once more as Sylus watches on with amusement.
"More?" He asks incredulously, "Don't I give you everything you ask for, sweetie? What more could you possibly need?" You sigh in frustration, your glare only making his smirk widen.
"I see. Don't worry, I'll give you more. My plans aren't for a few hours, so we'll stay just like this until then. That should be plenty, wouldn't you agree?"
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
the door creaked open before sylus stepped into the room, slow and muffled steps clicked against the dark wooden floor. the deal had run longer than expected and made him come home to his beloved wife much later than he would’ve preferred.
he took off his shoes and put them near his several other neat pairs. he slowly approached the king-sized bed as he took in the sight of you utterly asleep, a shirt of his only doing so much to cover the top half of your body. your disheveled hair and peaceful face softened his gaze, a satisfying wave of warmth coursing through his veins.
you’d found peace in his haven and there was nothing more soothing for sylus than that.
he bent down and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead, brushing some stray strands of hair from your face. the urge of jump on the bed and cuddle with you there and then was hard to resist. but sylus, ever the disciplined man, straightened his back and headed to the bathroom to take a much-needed shower, without looking back.
because he could fight his desires, but only for so long—and he knew that when he returned, there would be no running from them.
he took the quickest shower known to man—a quite efficient 15-minute shower. don’t get him wrong though, it may have been quick, but not for lack of effort—every second spent under the water felt like a test of self-control. the steam carried your presence in a way he’d like to deny.
with a towel hanging low on his hips, he dried his hair idly with the help of a hand towel, two yawns escaping his lips without permission. He analyzed his reflection in the mirror and paid special attention to the smudged purple that stained his under-eye bags. he needed to sleep with you, and he needed it now.
the impenetrable silence was disturbed by an abnormal scream. a terrified scream. sylus’ eyebrow perked up and his eyes shot wide open; he rushed to slam the door open the moment he recognized your voice beneath those layers of utter fear.
sylus didn’t waste any time and scanned the room—no enigmatic silhouette lurked in the shadows, everything was in place, no signs of violence.
yet there your figure laid—trembling in fear, lips quivering as your furrowed brow shrank you deeper into a dream of despair.
a nightmare.
sylus understood it too quickly to be true and moved closer to your restless body, hands carefully reaching for your face. he took in your expression—eyebrows drawn in, lips inhaling and exhaling with each rapid rise of your chest, temples sweating, tears escaping from the corner of your eyes.
how could something intangible bring down to such a state a wonderful and strong woman like you? sylus couldn’t fathom the thought—much less the possibility.
his heart clenched at the sight and immediately tried to wake you up. his soul could not bear seeing you like this, reduced to such despair.
his left hand cradled the side of your face as his thumb stroked your cheekbone. meanwhile, his right hand crept up your arm and shook your figure gently. “my beloved…” he tried, “wake up, c’mon.”
he rocked your body for a few seconds, still no response—other than your exhilarating breathing and unintelligible blubbering. “sweetie, you need to wake up.”
his arms grasped your sides and shook you a bit harder this time, successfully bringing you out of the dark abyss. with a sharp gasp, your first move was to hit your husband’s thick neck with the side of your palm—the latter could only grunt due to the impact.
the dangerous haze of paranoia dazed your mind, fake alert sirens blaring in your head. all your skillful battle techniques came in handy.
poor sylus, who only had time to blink before you were straddling him, almost directing your fist towards his nose. but the punch never landed.
his hand shot up faster than yours, gently yet firmly trapping your clenched hand. “sweetheart, look at me.” his eyes met yours. this wasn’t you—gaze drowned in panic, trembling hands under his touch. this was not his wife.
your dizzy orbs quivered as they tried to focus on something, someone. but tears filled your visual field, and you grew more desperate by the second—more vulnerable, more lost.
a ray of sunlight shone from the darkness surrounding you and materialized into a gentle touch, a soft and loving palm pushing you forward onto something firm and strong. warmth spread inside your cold, numb limbs.
sylus knew better than to act harshly. therefore, his hand glided over your back and gently pulled you towards him the moment he felt your wild strength falter, your cheek pressing against his chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
“‘m sylus, sweetie, your husband.” he muttered tenderly, his palm continuing with its ministrations along your back. “you’re safe now, i’ve got you.”
your foggy mind cleared up gradually, the only thing keeping you on your toes being the glint of your wedding ring. with squinting eyes, you suddenly recognized your surroundings—dim lighting, dark red sheets and a black bed frame, a vintage record player carefully placed in the corner of the room.
oh. you’re home.
you shifted your attention to your lover, who waited —both patient and expectantly— for you to meet his red loving eyes. your irises welled up once again. “sy…”
“yes?” his almost silent voice softened your insides, and finally, you dissolved into tears.
your voice cracked more with each sob as you sputtered everything out. “‘m sorry i-i don’t know what happened but-“ you sobbed sharply. “b-but i almost hurt you and i didn’t mean to do that at all—“
a low and soothing shhhh cut off your wobbly words, his strong arms pulling you closer, pressing you firmly against his frame. “i know, sweetie, i know.” he murmured. soon, the calm weight of silence engulfed you—truly an oddly satisfying feeling. his fingers traced delicate scribbles on your skin, gently grounding you, bringing you back down to earth.
sylus mumbled under his breath. “there’s nothing to be afraid of, my beloved.” he paused for a few seconds before continuing. “you’re home.”
the words settled deep within you, offering a comfort you’ve never felt before. wrapped in his embrace, the tremor in your chest slowly eased, each breath falling back into rhythm with his. home was not the room, nor the ring glinting on your hand—it was this: the steady rise of his chest beneath your cheek, the quiet certainty that you were safe, loved, and no longer alone.
the door creaked open before sylus stepped into the room, slow and muffled steps clicked against the dark wooden floor. the deal had run longer than expected and made him come home to his beloved wife much later than he would’ve preferred.
he took off his shoes and put them near his several other neat pairs. he slowly approached the king-sized bed as he took in the sight of you utterly asleep, a shirt of his only doing so much to cover the top half of your body. your disheveled hair and peaceful face softened his gaze, a satisfying wave of warmth coursing through his veins.
you’d found peace in his haven and there was nothing more soothing for sylus than that.
he bent down and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead, brushing some stray strands of hair from your face. the urge of jump on the bed and cuddle with you there and then was hard to resist. but sylus, ever the disciplined man, straightened his back and headed to the bathroom to take a much-needed shower, without looking back.
because he could fight his desires, but only for so long—and he knew that when he returned, there would be no running from them.
he took the quickest shower known to man—a quite efficient 15-minute shower. don’t get him wrong though, it may have been quick, but not for lack of effort—every second spent under the water felt like a test of self-control. the steam carried your presence in a way he’d like to deny.
with a towel hanging low on his hips, he dried his hair idly with the help of a hand towel, two yawns escaping his lips without permission. he analyzed his reflection in the mirror and paid special attention to the smudged purple that stained his under-eye bags. he needed to sleep with you, and he needed it now.
the impenetrable silence was disturbed by an abnormal scream. a terrified scream. sylus’ eyebrow perked up and his eyes shot wide open; he rushed to slam the door open the moment he recognized your voice beneath those layers of utter fear.
sylus didn’t waste any time and scanned the room—no enigmatic silhouette lurked in the shadows, everything was in place, no signs of violence.
yet there your figure laid—trembling in fear, lips quivering as your furrowed brow shrank you deeper into a dream of despair.
a nightmare.
sylus understood it too quickly to be true and moved closer to your restless body, hands carefully reaching for your face. he took in your expression—eyebrows drawn in, lips inhaling and exhaling with each rapid rise of your chest, temples sweating, tears escaping from the corner of your eyes.
how could something intangible bring down to such a state a wonderful and strong woman like you? sylus couldn’t fathom the thought—much less the possibility.
his heart clenched at the sight and immediately tried to wake you up. his soul could not bear seeing you like this, reduced to such despair.
his left hand cradled the side of your face as his thumb stroked your cheekbone. meanwhile, his right hand crept up your arm and shook your figure gently. “my beloved…” he tried, “wake up, c’mon.”
he rocked your body for a few seconds, still no response—other than your exhilarating breathing and unintelligible blubbering. “sweetie, you need to wake up.”
his arms grasped your sides and shook you a bit harder this time, successfully bringing you out of the dark abyss. with a sharp gasp, your first move was to hit your husband’s thick neck with the side of your palm—the latter could only grunt due to the impact.
the dangerous haze of paranoia dazed your mind, fake alert sirens blaring in your head. all your skillful battle techniques came in handy.
poor sylus, who only had time to blink before you were straddling him, almost directing your fist towards his nose. but the punch never landed.
his hand shot up faster than yours, gently yet firmly trapping your clenched hand. “sweetheart, look at me.” his eyes met yours. this wasn’t you—gaze drowned in panic, trembling hands under his touch. this was not his wife.
your dizzy orbs quivered as they tried to focus on something, someone. but tears filled your visual field, and you grew more desperate by the second—more vulnerable, more lost.
a ray of sunlight shone from the darkness surrounding you and materialized into a gentle touch, a soft and loving palm pushing you forward onto something firm and strong. warmth spread inside your cold, numb limbs.
sylus knew better than to act harshly. therefore, his hand glided over your back and gently pulled you towards him the moment he felt your wild strength falter, your cheek pressing against his chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
“‘m sylus, sweetie, your husband.” he muttered tenderly, his palm continuing with its ministrations along your back. “you’re safe now, i’ve got you.”
your foggy mind cleared up gradually, the only thing keeping you on your toes being the glint of your wedding ring. with squinting eyes, you suddenly recognized your surroundings—dim lighting, dark red sheets and a black bed frame, a vintage record player carefully placed in the corner of the room.
oh. you’re home.
you shifted your attention to your lover, who waited —both patient and expectantly— for you to meet his red loving eyes. your irises welled up once again. “sy…”
“yes?” his almost silent voice softened your insides, and finally, you dissolved into tears.
your voice cracked more with each sob as you sputtered everything out. “‘m sorry i-i don’t know what happened but-“ you sobbed sharply. “b-but i almost hurt you and i didn’t mean to do that at all—“
a low and soothing shhhh cut off your wobbly words, his strong arms pulling you closer, pressing you firmly against his frame. “i know, sweetie, i know.” he murmured. soon, the calm weight of silence engulfed you—truly an oddly satisfying feeling. his fingers traced delicate scribbles on your skin, gently grounding you, bringing you back down to earth.
sylus mumbled under his breath. “there’s nothing to be afraid of, my beloved.” he paused for a few seconds before continuing. “you’re home.”
the words settled deep within you, offering a comfort you’ve never felt before. wrapped in his embrace, the tremor in your chest slowly eased, each breath falling back into rhythm with his. home was not the room, nor the ring glinting on your hand—it was this: the steady rise of his chest beneath your cheek, the quiet certainty that you were safe, loved, and no longer alone.
this year has been a rollercoaster of emotions tbh but it lacked motivation to write something, anything. i’ve gone through many things, many experiences and and still got many lessons yet to learn.
the idea of coming back scared me but honestly, how could i give up something i’ve built with so much love and dedication? this thought is what brings me here today to announce the happy news ’cause we’re entering a whole new chapter, so hang on and stay tuned my loves <3
i’m now going to also write for the love and deepspace men—tho i’ll only write for sylus, zayne and caleb, my holy trinity. sorry not sorry!— but don’t worry, i haven’t left my dear ateez behind!
anddddd of course i’m already working on a new theme for the blog.
since i’ve written nothing since february, my updates will be kind of slow so bear with me. i got many requests on my inbox and i can’t wait to get through each and every single one of them!
sorry i disappeared for so long babes, but here i am now! i’ll drop something soon, it’s already in the ovennn <3
⋆ synopsis. it seems like your husband can’t keep it in his pants, not even on a fucking christmas dinner with his family. but, as the lovely wifey you are, you gotta give him some relief, right?
pairing. husband! jung wooyoung & fem! reader.
wc. 3,2k
warnings. smut (mdni!), suggestive language, cussing, almost!! getting caught by wooyoung’s mom (oops), pet names (love, babe, my wife, pretty girl & more), nipple play, wooyoung sucks your entire skin (neck, collarbone, tits and the list can continue…), teasing, wooyoung tears your panties to shreds heh, not dirty—NASTY TALK, begging, yn at some point says “stop” but it’s bc she’s far too blissed out; not bc she actually wanted him to stop, this is alllll consensual!!, unprotected sex, praise ofc, squirting, gut-wrenching fluff in the end ‘cause love him too much.
nic’s notes ⋆ first ff of the xmas event yes sir !! i felt some shit writing this istg (๑/////๑ " )
you know holidays, right?
the perfect opportunity for the entire family to gather and celebrate achievements, blessings, and thousands and thousands of other things. cousins, nephews, aunts, uncles, and even great-grandparents were reunited in that cold and windy winter night. an entire feast was splayed on the table for everyone’s delightfulness, different kinds of foods and smells mixing and creating a delicious, toe-curling experience for anyone’s nostrils.
the hours you had spent shopping for every ingredient for each dish, cutting the vegetables, cooking everything to the exact, perfect point and term really paid off once your and your husband’s family were brought together at the large, dark oak table to celebrate your very first holiday — both families now joined together as one.
nothing could go wrong. the chatting flew as calm and joyful as spring water, sharing experiences and old memories pleasingly, smiles spread like the most enchanting disease—as well as the wholesome ambience, and everything was accompanied by a delightful meal, the well-deserved five star bonus of the evening.
so, if everything was meant to go perfectly, then why the hell was your husband staring at you with the most explicit, sluttiest “fuck me” eyes you’ve ever seen?
wooyoung sat in front of you, his two cousins sitting each on his sides. his plate was rather full, and that had an explanation: he was far too gone and busy burying heart-shaped daggers into your eyes while his hand cupped his cheek, head tilting to his right — his tongue glided over his dry bottom lip every now and then. you’d bet that none of his thoughts were in the bible. ‘cause fuck, even his younger brother would guess that something’s odd about him. that that’s not the usual behavior of his dear older brother.
“yn? darling?” the voice of wooyoung’s mother dragged out quickly of your insulation bubble. her tilted head clearly showed that she had been trying to talk to you for a while. a soft, warming hue of red struck your cheekbones.
as you gyrated your head to meet her worried gaze, you replied. “yes! mrs. jung, ‘m sorry. what were you saying?”
“are you doing fine, sweetie? you were gone for a bit.” she stared at you intently, genuinely worried about her daughter in-law. oh that woman was almost a fallen angel—if not one. if only she knew it was his own son who was to blame—the very last person she’d suspect, and oh, how deliciously ironic that was.
the figure of your husband’s shit-eating grin could be seen out of the corner of your eye—a sight that ignited a fiery rage within you, yet one you couldn’t help but savor, lingering on the view as long as possible before responding to your sweet mother-in-law. “oh, it was nothing. i’m prolly just zoning out because of how tired i am. y’ know, spending the entire day in the kitchen was exhausting.” the cherry on top of the excuse was the little, innocent giggle you emitted by the end. the woman gave you the most pitiful, yet endearing look. she lifted her arm, indicating with her open palm the white stairs, the reflection of the christmas-decorated banister lighting up her eyes.
“oh, sweetheart. you should go rest, it’s pretty late after all.” her gesture softened your heart, chest clenching a bit.
this woman was going to be the death of you! … uhm, never mind. first place is taken by wooyoung, who seems quite excited with the idea of going upstairs with you, by the way. take a guess at what his mind is scheming.
you shook your hands in front of your chest, quickly denying the opportunity. “thank you really, but i’m okay. i’ll just go wash my face.” you excused yourself, hovering your leg over the other and getting yourself up. “maybe that way i can wake up completely.” ending with a little giggle, you started walking towards the staircase when suddenly, the voice of your dear husband rang inside your ears.
“excuse me. i’ll go help my wife.” his foxy eyes curved into crescent moons, and his lips stretched wide, forming an upward line. oh fuck, you were done for.
“oh yes, i was about to ask you to do the same. please, son.” she stated, nodding approvingly. oh what a gentleman she had raised.
you resumed your steps quickly, arriving to the second floor in less than you expected. you turned your head, only to be met with an empty corridor. thank goodness he hadn’t gotten there yet.
or so you thought. ‘cause when you refocused your attention to your front, a pair of arms grabbed you by your waist and swung you around the air in a swift motion as he dragged you to an empty room. the last sound heard in the corridor was the slam of a closing door.
your breathless body was pinned against a cold wall, trapped between two quite familiar, tanned arms. simultaneously, your disoriented irises tried to adjust to the darkness of the room and focus on the feverish, hungry eyes standing in front of you.
“wh… what the fuck was that.” you muttered as the remains of your breath flew away. wooyoung seemed enchanted by your current state though.
“heeey, don’t curse at me like that.” his gentle, cocky voice penetrated your mind like a bullet. knuckles crept up the sides of your exposed arms, providing soothing strokes — goosebumps prickled to life in response. he opened his warm palms and reached to your also bare shoulder, massaging them. “after all, ’m jus’ here to help you.” he pulled his secret weapon and started making out with your neck, licking your flesh like a starving man and spreading wet kisses all over it.
“help me? how are you helping me like this?” you uttered as your breath hitched, head leaning to the side at the right angle to give him enough space.
wooyoung sucked that sensitive spot that always made your eyes roll to the very back of your head, dragging a whine out of you successfully. his chuckle and victorious smirk didn’t go unseen by your already blissed-out self. he leaned back a little to admire you. just for a bit, palms not leaving their place. “you’ll know when we’re done.” his hands moved in a swift motion, arms wrapping around your thighs and shoulders, lifting you effortlessly in a princess carry. “for now, just shut up and enjoy it, hm?”
“w-wooyoung—you know we can’t do this now— angh!” your anxious, flustered self made a futile attempt to reason with wooyoung, hoping he’d remember that both your families were gathered downstairs for a fucking christmas dinner—while he, entirely unbothered, seemed more than eager to spend the evening thoroughly ruining you in the bed just one floor above. and that was clearly shown when he threw you to the bed as if you were the lightest feather and immediately crawled to you.
“c’mon, love. i just wanna help you stay awake” his gravelly voice purred gift next to your ear as his taunting hands played with the sides of your dress, fingertips aching and itching to rip it off you.
he had you underneath him, completely flustered and nervous. he knew you were really anxious about the dinner—you’d spent a whole hour straight ranting about how nerve-wracking the preparations were, only to end up feeling physically ill from the overwhelming surge of dopamine flooding your system. but your reddened cheeks were smiling at him and your plump lips were whispering nasty things to him. holy fuck, how couldn’t he be tempted?
he needed to be balls deep in you. now.
his skillful tongue found home in your neck and collarbone, sucking cute love bites all over. but, your body was still tense, too uneasy at the thought of the possible scenario of someone entering the room and catching the two of you in such a compromising position.
“b-babe, please—hmph”
in a sultry tone, he muttered, “already begging. so fucking cute.” a smirk was drawn on his lips before his hands reached to your cleavage and popped your tits out of your low-cut dress. “y’ want me to fuck you? ‘s that what it is?”
before you could even think of an answer, he dived right into your breasts, licking your sensitive nipples as though they were his favorite toy — because they absolutely were.
god, the incessant thoughts that ran through your head and his tongue lapping around your buds were too much. everything was starting to be too much, and he hadn’t even taken your clothes off. with heightened sensitivity, your lips fell open and a beautiful, sweet melody of your moans and whimpers escaped through them — a delightful melody for your husband’s ears.
impatient hands stripped you of your glittery dress, leaving you with nothing but your black, thin panties. wooyoung took a moment for himself — well, more accurately for you, to admire and revel in your beauty as he should. a rush of blood surged to his cock, making it throb even harder than before. he was no more than a man, overwhelmed by desire. “you’re fucking irresistible, y’ know that?” he started down to where your and his crotch connected, brows furrowing when he saw your clothed pussy. “i think it’s time for this to go.”
a sharp rrrrrip! bounced through the walls and brought your attention. “woo did you just—?!” you followed the movement of his hands, which discarded the shreds of black fabric to the floor. “that was my—! hahh” and his thumb flew right to your already swollen clit, stimulating it with circling motions.
“why’re you whining when you know i’ll buy you ten more pairs,” he whispered as he soaked in the unsteady shiftiness of your body — and for that, he posed a strong yet harmless grip on your waist. his fat thumb worked nonstop over your bud, sending sparks right to it. your body jolted upward at the feeling of his middle and index fingers tracing soft lines up your pink folds. the sight of your walls clenching and relaxing around nothing spun him. “ooh, what a greedy wifey i got.” he chuckled under his breath, gaze stuck to his home — and i mean your cunt. “sooo desperate for my fingers, huh?”
at this point, any sense or unsteady thought had already vanished away, completely replaced by a selfish state of mind. you wanted him to finger you, fuck you, drive you insane. and you wanted it right fucking now. and so you mewled, “god, please just do something.”
“got the name wrong, darling.” and with that, he pushed two fingers at once inside your fluttering walls, tugging a satisfied moan out of you. “it’s wooyoung. or hubby” he giggled. he fucking giggled as he rammed those fingers mercilessly, shooting stars and fireworks filling your vision.
“w-wait stop— baby, please— fffuck!” stuttering words and incoherent gibberish spilled from your swollen lips, too red and slick from how often and harshly you’d bitten them; eyes welling up with tears from the intense pleasure overload.
“stop?” a chuckle rumbled through his chest. “fine then” he withdrew his long phalanges, leaving you empty. completely fucking empty, with velvety and throbbing walls already missing him. you cried as you felt the void of your pulsating pussy, but before you could coax a desperate “please” from your lips, wooyoung grabbed you by the waist. you gasped, as he manhandled you, positioning you on top, naked folds grazing his clothed sex.
you pouted and wooyoung laughed. he was finding this shit way too funny. “since you so nicely begged me to stop, then put your back into it, mm?” a loud smack! reverberated through the walls as his heavy palm landed on the flesh of your ass. “fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl.”
and did he have to tell you twice. desperate, shuddering hands worked on his dress pants, quickly undoing his belt and zipping it down just enough to uncover his rock-hard bulge. you grabbed the band of his boxers and pulled it down as well, his cock springing finally free. with a smooth movement, you took his member and positioned it below you. and just before you sit down on him completely, someone knocked on the fucking door.
the surprise caused you to jolt and lose control, sinking in a faster and sloppier motion than you intended — a loud cry resonating through the thin walls the moment his tip kissed your cervix perfectly. with eyes wide open, you slapped a hand over your mouth, cursing yourself for being so fucking noisy and sensitive and—
“yn? are you in here?” the muffled voice of wooyoung’s mother echoed from the other side of the door.
shit shit shit.
“y-yes, ma’am! i… ’m kinda busy over in here—ugh!” you tried to speak as loud and clear as you could, but wooyoung seemed to be unbothered by your efforts since he grabbed your hips and started swaying your core up and down his girth. up, down, up, down.
you stared at your husband with glaring eyes, stabbing knives into his. fuck, did this man even care about being heard by his own mother? now, with all doubts gone, you’re certain you’ve married a freak.
“are you okay, sweetie? what’s going on over there?”
and you swear you heard the door creaking open, so you exclaimed. “no! everything’s fine!” you yelped, your voice higher-pitched than you intended. “please don’t come in.”
wooyoung chuckled underneath you, soaking in the sight of your nervous self trying to mute your cries as your tits bounced right on his face. he could die right there and then and he’d be happy. “what’s wrong, baby? can’t take it?” he whispered as he gazed directly into your tightly scrunched eyes, your partially open mouth releasing nothing more but silent cries and pleas.
“fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” you hushed soundlessly, yet willingly bouncing up and down his length. the low, manly giggle he uttered spun you. fuck, he had you wrapped up around his finger.
“oookay? uhm, do you know where my son is? is he there with you?”
he grinned. that shit-eating grin you hated so damn much appeared all across his face. “c’mon pretty, tell her the truth. tell her how good i’m fucking you, how good you’re taking my cock, hm?” he growled into your ear, his voice low and raspy, sending shivers down your spine. the sound was intoxicating, clouding your thoughts and turning your mind into mush.
your throbbing walls clenched around him subconsciously, his head rocking back in reaction. “he’s… he’s here with me, h-helping me like he said he would.”
wooyoung seemed utterly satisfied by your answer, his grin only spreading wider. “that’s my wife. so beautiful.”
“perfect then! i’ll see you in a bit then.” after those words, no other sound was heard — other than the wet clapping of your flesh against his hips.
“‘s she gone?” your half-lidded eyes stared down at your husband, who was hugging you by the waist, face deeply buried in your bobbing, soft tits. your hands flew to the back of his head, cupping his neck whilst caressing his raven hair fondly. at your words, his head lifted, and took a glance at your divine expression.
“baby, i didn’t care, not even a second, if she was hearing or not.” his intoxicating, dark irises sent love letters to yours, utterly drunk in love. “i jus’ wanna cum inside your sweet pussy.”
skillful fingers crept to your hardened, overstimulated nipples and all the way down where your bodies collided, positioning right on your clit. his left hand stroked your firm nipple and played with one breast, letting wooyoung’s tongue take care of the other whilst his right hand shifted rapidly over your bundle of nerves.
he fell in love with you again as he saw your back arching into a perfect crescent moon. “good girl.” your loud whines and moans only encouraged him to keep going. “so responsive to me.” he exhaled breathlessly. “fuck, are you about to cum, baby?”
“y-yeah, fuck— woo, i-i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna fucking cum” you yelped as your bounces became sloppier, more desperate and more reckless. wooyoung motivated you by whispering sweet things and heart-melting praises right into your ear.
“cum, baby. cum for me, milk me dry.” and with one last bounce, you sprayed your juices all over him, soaking his pants and white shirt even more.
exasperated grunts and exhales left your husband’s mouth at the sensation of your folds clamping down on him — you definitely understood the assignment of milking him dry. ‘cause your pussy received the hot ropes of cum that his dick spurted out with great pleasure, sucking the life out of his poor, now softened length.
you crumbled down on him, your weakened core landing on top of him with his dick still inside you. your head found home in the crook of his neck as his hand reached to your back, wrapping your waist safely whilst the other provided soothing ministrations to your face. with your last ounce of strength, you pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, an even warming sensation drowning the both of you.
“fuck” was all you could mutter. “how’re we going to get back there, they’re waiting for us.”
wooyoung hummed thoughtfully, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and brushing against your skin. “we could pretend we fell asleep. with that, they shouldn’t suspect a thing.”
“hey that’s actually a great id—“
the door creaked open and your bodies jerked softly. the both of you knew exactly what to do, so your eyes flew shut. wooyoung even started snoring quietly to add a spec of realism to the scene.
the sound of your mothers’ voice echoed through your ears. “she said wooyoung was helping… her” wooyoung’s mom immediately lowered her voice as she took in the scene. an almost soundless aww escaped your mom’s lips.
“well sure he was helping her.” your mother sighed at the wholesome moment she had the luck of appreciating.
“i think he was massaging her. ‘cause when i knocked on the door, i could hear like— muffled sounds, that seemed like moans.” she stated, and you froze in place — well, not like you could move an inch. “at first i was confused, but then she clarified that wooyoung-ah was helping her “like he said he would”” she remarked your words as if she had studied them.
“oh i see.” your mother spoke. “i think we should let them sleep. my poor yn had a long day.”
and with that, the door shut closed with a soft click.
wooyoung giggled under the covers as your face burned from the embarrassment.
“massaging? well, that’s a way to put it.”
“wooyoung, babe, as much as i love you, please shut the fuck up.”
he laughed wholeheartedly, a gut-wrenching sound that never fails to make you smile. “you embarrassed, my love?”
you slapped your open palm against his exposed chest as you whined. “stoppp.”
his small, soft giggle buzzed inside your eardrums before he left on the top of your head a kiss full of fondness and affection. “cutie.”
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okay but virgin! san who’s more than ready to please you, eagerly lapping at your wet folds messily. he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, he’s just using the sweet melody of your moans as his guide, a hint that you’re enjoying yourself. his tongue explores places he never knew existed, places that have now become his favorites. his fingers are everywhere, stroking every inch of skin he can, loving phalanges providing sweet touches on your hips as they drew unintelligible scribbles.
the muscles of his tongue feel the way your walls clench around it greedily, which only incites him to keep pushing it down, excited to stretch you fully.
on the other hand, you’re holding on to the messy sheets underneath you for dear life, fingers clamping around the soft fabric as your knuckles turn a pretty shade of white.
because you understand your boyfriend’s eagerness. but fucking hell, this is the fourth time you’ve come.
“g-god, sannie— stop, ’s too much—“
the moment you mutter the word “stop”, he buries the entire length of his skillful tongue inside your tight, gushing walls. and the way you clench around him immediately makes his eyes roll back. he successfully rips a cry out of you, your trembling hands dart towards his messy locks, driven by a single purpose: to grip them tightly whilst you come undone, completely helpless under him. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive, overstimulated clit as he helps you to ride your orgasm.
if he was in love with you before, he’s utterly consumed by you now.
“fuck baby i know ‘s too much—” he pulls away to speak, his raspy and growly voice sending the most delicious chills down your spine.
and shit. the way he’s staring at you is immaculate. brown intoxicated eyes, dilated from lust pierce into your soul like daggers as messy locks of hair fall gracefully over his lashes; all while a soft red blush strikes his cheekbones, belying the sinful scene. a clear, viscous string of your creamy fluids clings to the corner of his swollen lips.
the divine sight of him like this is going to be stuck in your head for a long time: between your legs, just done eating your pussy to the bone.
“but you’re taking it like such a good girl.” he deposits the gentlest kiss on your inner thigh, the feathery stroke of his lips over your sensitive skin tickling you a bit. “please just let me give ya another one. pretty please, baby.”
he begs. he fucking begs, with a tilted head and those undeniably beautiful doe eyes staring into your soul, only releasing the most primitive side of you.
and how can you ever deny him a treat?
“o-okay.” you whisper, almost embarrassed of your words; as if this whole situation wasn’t shameless enough. you aren’t sure how much more of what he was dishing out you could take, but san’s already set in his mind; he’s going to push you to your goddamn limits. because eating your pussy is now his addiction and obsession. and if that means doing it until the only sound escaping your lips are silent cries and his name, then he’s more than happy to comply.
okay but virgin! san who’s more than ready to please you, eagerly lapping at your wet folds messily. he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, he’s just using the sweet melody of your moans as his guide, a hint that you’re enjoying yourself. his tongue explores places he never knew existed, places that have now become his favorites. his fingers are everywhere, stroking every inch of skin he can, loving phalanges providing sweet touches on your hips as they drew unintelligible scribbles.
the muscles of his tongue feel the way your walls clench around it greedily, which only incites him to keep pushing it down, excited to stretch you fully.
on the other hand, you’re holding on to the messy sheets underneath you for dear life, fingers clamping around the soft fabric as your knuckles turn a pretty shade of white.
because you understand your boyfriend’s eagerness. but fucking hell, this is the fourth time you’ve come.
“g-god, sannie— stop, ’s too much—“
the moment you mutter the word “stop”, he buries the entire length of his skillful tongue inside your tight, gushing walls. and the way you clench around him immediately makes his eyes roll back. he successfully rips a cry out of you, your trembling hands dart towards his messy locks, driven by a single purpose: to grip them tightly whilst you come undone, completely helpless under him. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive, overstimulated clit as he helps you to ride your orgasm.
if he was in love with you before, he’s utterly consumed by you now.
“fuck baby i know ‘s too much—” he pulls away to speak, his raspy and growly voice sending the most delicious chills down your spine.
and shit. the way he’s staring at you is immaculate. brown intoxicated eyes, dilated from lust pierce into your soul like daggers as messy locks of hair fall gracefully over his lashes; all while a soft red blush strikes his cheekbones, belying the sinful scene. a clear, viscous string of your creamy fluids clings to the corner of his swollen lips.
the divine sight of him like this is going to be stuck in your head for a long time: between your legs, just done eating your pussy to the bone.
“but you’re taking it like such a good girl.” he deposits the gentlest kiss on your inner thigh, the feathery stroke of his lips over your sensitive skin tickling you a bit. “please just let me give ya another one. pretty please, baby.”
he begs. he fucking begs, with a tilted head and those undeniably beautiful doe eyes staring into your soul, only releasing the most primitive side of you.
and how can you ever deny him a treat?
“o-okay.” you whisper, almost embarrassed of your words; as if this whole situation wasn’t shameless enough. you aren’t sure how much more of what he was dishing out you could take, but san’s already set in his mind; he’s going to push you to your goddamn limits. because eating your pussy is now his addiction and obsession. and if that means doing it until the only sound escaping your lips are silent cries and his name, then he’s more than happy to comply.
okay but virgin! san who’s more than ready to please you, eagerly lapping at your wet folds messily. he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, he’s just using the sweet melody of your moans as his guide, a hint that you’re enjoying yourself. his tongue explores places he never knew existed, places that have now become his favorites. his fingers are everywhere, stroking every inch of skin he can, loving phalanges providing sweet touches on your hips as they drew unintelligible scribbles.
the muscles of his tongue feel the way your walls clench around it greedily, which only incites him to keep pushing it down, excited to stretch you fully.
on the other hand, you’re holding on to the messy sheets underneath you for dear life, fingers clamping around the soft fabric as your knuckles turn a pretty shade of white.
because you understand your boyfriend’s eagerness. but fucking hell, this is the fourth time you’ve come.
“g-god, sannie— stop, ’s too much—“
the moment you mutter the word “stop”, he buries the entire length of his skillful tongue inside your tight, gushing walls. and the way you clench around him immediately makes his eyes roll back. he successfully rips a cry out of you, your trembling hands dart towards his messy locks, driven by a single purpose: to grip them tightly whilst you come undone, completely helpless under him. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive, overstimulated clit as he helps you to ride your orgasm.
if he was in love with you before, he’s utterly consumed by you now.
“fuck baby i know ‘s too much—” he pulls away to speak, his raspy and growly voice sending the most delicious chills down your spine.
and shit. the way he’s staring at you is immaculate. brown intoxicated eyes, dilated from lust pierce into your soul like daggers as messy locks of hair fall gracefully over his lashes; all while a soft red blush strikes his cheekbones, belying the sinful scene. a clear, viscous string of your creamy fluids clings to the corner of his swollen lips.
the divine sight of him like this is going to be stuck in your head for a long time: between your legs, just done eating your pussy to the bone.
“but you’re taking it like such a good girl.” he deposits the gentlest kiss on your inner thigh, the feathery stroke of his lips over your sensitive skin tickling you a bit. “please just let me give ya another one. pretty please, baby.”
he begs. he fucking begs, with a tilted head and those undeniably beautiful doe eyes staring into your soul, only releasing the most primitive side of you.
and how can you ever deny him a treat?
“o-okay.” you whisper, almost embarrassed of your words; as if this whole situation wasn’t shameless enough. you aren’t sure how much more of what he was dishing out you could take, but san’s already set in his mind; he’s going to push you to your goddamn limits. because eating your pussy is now his addiction and obsession. and if that means doing it until the only sound escaping your lips are silent cries and his name, then he’s more than happy to comply.
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hi idk if you taking requests but if you are, heres my idea.
nerdy hongjoong chosen to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. imagine making out with him and you get whiny and moaning BUT he’s just the same as you! he’s whining and hands all over you. with his lil glasses and his hair gets messy from you tugging on his hair 😩
i love your writing and i think you’ll do great with this! looking forward to it if you decide to write this byeeeeeeee
7 MINUTES IN HELL HEAVEN – 김홍중
⋆ synopsis. being dared to do 7 minutes in heaven with the nerd wasn’t as bad as you thought.
pairing. nerdy! hongjoong & fem! reader.
wc. 1,8k
warnings. veeeery suggestive (mdni!), dry humping, making out, desperation at its peak, so much whining, implied virgin! hongjoong, reader calls joong “nerdy”, teasing, reader’s on top of hongjoong but they don’t fuck, getting caught (not fucking but in a compromising position hehe), possessive reader tehee, mention of other ateez’s members,
nic’s notes ⋆ writing this was a ride 😮💨 happy belated vday, lovelies <3 also, hope u like it, dear anonnie !!
how the fuck did you end up here?
a nerd whose name was irrelevant to you, sitting next to you in a king-sized bed, chosen to do 7 minutes in heaven with you.
you could feel the way his eyes peered holes into the back of your head as you covered your face with your palms, still unable to face reality. he fidgeted his fingers against the fabric of his fancy pants, adjusting his black glasses every now and then; heart almost beating out of his poor chest.
you sighed, fingers holding the bridge of your nose, before turning abruptly to stare at him. his body jolted slightly in reaction. “do you even know how to kiss?”
his eyes opened wide in shock, taken aback by your sudden question. “huh?” was all he could mutter.
you groaned as you rolled your eyes, a mix of boredom and annoyance bubbling deep inside your guts. “oh my god,” you whispered under your breath, closing your eyes in denial. “you know how this game works, right?”
a soft flush of red brightened his cheeks. “i do,” he breathed, “it just seems quite inappropriate to me.”
amusement laced your tone. “inappropriate? ha! you’re a virgin, aren’t ya?” your words sounded more like a sentence than a question.
the blush on his face grew stronger, heating his face. nervously, he blabbered. “hah?! w—why would i share that kind of information with you?!”
you chuckled at him. “yeah, you are.”
he looked at you as if you had hurt his pride as a man. so, he talked back in a poor attempt to defend himself. “no, i’m not!”
you quickly dismissed his whines, waving your hand at him uninterestedly. “yeah yeah, whatever you say, nerdy.”
the nickname caught him off guard, confusion written all over his face; head tilted to the side. “nerdy?”
you ignored him and got up, clapping your hands together. you stood up in front of his figure, who seemed to refuse to move from his place. you could see how his fingers had stopped grasping the fabric of his pants, shifting instead to the softness of the bed’s blankets. “okay! listen, i don’t know about you, but i’m not planning on staying here doing nothing.” you continued. “so, i’ll be your teacher today.”
you leaned forward, closer to him. “teacher?” he muttered, unsure if he could still breathe if he kept holding eye contact with you.
“that’s right.” you rested your hands on his thighs, using them as support. “so, what’s your name, nerdy?”
“hongjoong.” he stuttered, fluttered by your closeness. he did his best to avoid looking down at your chest, fighting the urge to glance at the curve of your breasts, his focus straining to stay on your face.
“hongjoong…” you hummed softly, slightly tilting your head. his name rolled off your tongue dangerously, almost as if you were savoring it. “pretty.”
when he said his name, you couldn’t help but analyze his face, dark irises scanning his flustered self with a huge focus. you frowned your brows softly when you realized: “he’s actually not so ugly you know…”
you nodded approvingly as you leaned even closer, your breasts now touching his own chest; lips only a few inches apart. a rush of excitement and nervousness flowed through his limbs, reddening his ears. “i’m yn.”
hongjoong whispered right on your lips. “i know.”
you chuckled, velvety tone laced with tease. “you’ve kept an eye on me for a while, hm?”
he realized he had given himself away too late. he was about to start rambling again. “i—“
his mind was desperately trying to look for an excuse, a way out of the moment of embarrassment he had put himself in; anxiety rushing through his blood. but before he could even utter a word, you smashed your lips against his, a mix of roughness and desperation coursing through you both. you didn’t waste any time before pushing your tongue into his mouth, and he hummed softly, happily accepting it.
you leaned forward, pushing hongjoong over his back until his back was laid flat against the mattress. you didn’t break in any moment the kiss as you straddled his lap, pressing your clothed sex against his crotch.
your hair covered his reddened face and his scrunched eyes, he was immersed in that kiss, deeply intoxicated by your aura, scent and taste. your tongue laced with his just felt right, and it awakened something deep within him. something he never experienced before. something he couldn’t quite define.
you both were caught up in the heat of the moment, in your own world, until a voice was heard from the other side of the door, making you pull away, a string of saliva hanging from your lips and keeping you connected.
“mingi, the timer, man!” you could recognize wooyoung’s voice.
a faint “oh fuck i forgot” barely reached your eardrum. the loud boo of the whole group almost made you laugh. mingi started whining about being human and how humans make mistakes.“poor mingi” you whispered to yourself.
“y’all, mingi forgot to start the timer!” yunho started talking loud enough for the both of you to hear. “so time’s starts running from…” he paused briefly. “now!”
you turned to face hongjoong, locking gazes with him. he looked so helplessly cute under you, such a blushing mess. “lucky us, then. we got plenty of time.”
you leaned closer, grabbing his face and pulling him to you, forcing him to sit up straight whilst joining your lips together again. your fingers stroked his cheeks affectionately, slightly tilting his glasses to the side. you dominated the kiss since he wasn’t quite sure what to do, what to touch, what to feel. his hands stayed by the sides of his body, holding the sheets beneath him in a white-knuckled grip.
your eyes remained closed as you tried to fully immerse yourself in the kiss. but with no touch from him, the lack of contact was beginning to feel both dull and unbearable. taking matters into your own hands, you broke the kiss for a brief moment just to whisper. “touch me.” you grabbed his wrists and guided them to the sides of your body, slowly trailing them to your lower back, brushing your ass. “wherever and however you want.”
with that, you dived in for another kiss, now feeling hongjoong’s hands caressing the places that your guidance allowed him to go, still a bit shy to go further. you started to get impatient, desperate. you sunk your hips down him and started swaying back and forth, trying to create some friction. the slow, rhythmic roll of your hips effortlessly coaxed moans and whines from hongjoong’s swollen lips.
your tongues met in a heated clash, pressing, twisting, and tangling in a slow, intoxicating dance. you tried to match hongjoong’s sloppy pace, but it left you breathless, panting for air. “haa.. hongjoong— wait.”
“can’t,” was all he said before pressing his hands against your back and neck and pulling you to him, locking lips again.
but this time was different. this time hongjoong had gained enough confidence and built enough courage to start roaming his hands all over your covered back and trailing them down to your ass, playing and groping your buttocks. this time hongjoong was the one to insert his tongue into your oral cavity first. his kissing was still sloppy and unrefined, but it somehow stirred something deep in you, deep down.
a familiar fluid started to pool down your panties, euphoric arousal coursing through your limbs, prickling your skin. your hands instinctively glided to his hair and started tugging it, your fingers laced with some locks of his fluffy hair. your panting and desperate state made hongjoong feel things he just wasn’t okay with, things that drove him up a wall. his clothed sex started to wake up, poking his pants and rising its fabric, creating a tent. his now hardened bulge tapped against your wet entrance insistently. you moaned at the feeling whilst hongjoong was doing his best to keep his whines at a low volume. spoiler: he couldn’t.
he’s a panting mess beneath you, eyes almost rolling back to his skull at the sensation, the satisfaction. the lenses of his glasses are now fogged up, the mist clouding his vision as his breath hitched in the heated air.
he exhaled. “fuck you’re too much.”
“am i?” you smirked teasingly, drowned in his expression, his state. his face was flushed from all the situation, his lips were swollen from all the kissing, his hair was messy from your fingers tugging it. and a sudden sensation of possessiveness washed over you.
your mind just couldn’t help but repeat like a mantra the word “mine”.
you were about to dive into a heated kiss again, start the kiss that’d be marked by that thought, the kiss that’d make hongjoong yours.
but just when you were about to do so, to claim the guy, the door bursted open.
wooyoung and jongho chimed in. “time’s uppp!” wooyoung blubbered, completely wasted and drunk. he stared at you and analyzed everything: the position, the ambience, the smell that lingered in the air. “oh my god, you were about to fuck.” he stated the obvious.
jongho sighed, grabbing his friend by his shoulders. “he’s drunk if y’all can’t tell.” he cleared up. “but yeah, time’s up. so get out of here and join us.” he announced before disappearing through the door.
when the door clicked shut, you and hongjoong sighed loudly in unison and proceeded to laugh at the unintentional match, genuine smiles drawn on your faces.
“i guess this is it then?” hongjoong spoke.
“what do you mean this is it, idiot.” you deadpanned, pulling yourself off his lap. as you brushed your hair with your fingers, trying to better it up, you continued. “you and i got unfinished business, sir.”
you winked at him before leaning in and pecking his lips. “you ain’t getting rid of me that easily.” you shared one final, brief kiss and pulled away.
you chuckled softly before making your way towards the door, naturally bringing out your usual self when you met everyone again. “ayooo!” you hollered, being greeted by your euphoric and drunk friends as you closed the door behind you, leaving a poor flustered hongjoong sitting on the edge of the bed with an unbearable hard-on and his smart brain turned into mush.
days later, hongjoong was in the middle of a study session in the university’s library, head almost inside the philosophy book he was reading.
suddenly, his phone vibrated against the desk, the dull brrr catching him off guard. he picked it and lit up its screen. a message from an unknown number popped up as the latest notification. his fingers swiped the screen and unlocked it, now able to read the text.
come over to my place tonight. there’s still some unfinished business we need to handle, nerdy.
a lustful glint sparkled in his eyes, and a devilish smirk curved up his lips.
everything about tonight promised to be dangerous, and neither of you was going to back down.
