bittenbyenhypen - Tumblr blog

bittenbyenhypen · 27 days ago

Text

his replica, my ruin (p.js)

they say imitation is flattery. but i never asked permission.

pairing: stepbrother!jay (park jongseong) x reader (y/n)

wc: 8.6k

genre: slow burn | slight angst | smut = minors dni!

tags: stepbrother!au, stepcest, post-breakup tension, bickering, enemies to not-exactly-enemies, taboo, clone-a-willy, use of pet names, dom-jay, sub-reader, p in v, no protection, masturbation

a/n: lowercase intentional! first time writing smut so please, don’t be too harsh 😓

i didn’t expect the sound of the front door to make my stomach twist, but it did. loud. sharp. final.

jay was home.

♰ "∘ .╰♯₊⊹

i kept my eyes on my laptop, pretending to be absorbed in the show playing quietly, but every second ticked like a countdown. his footsteps thudded through the entryway, not light and careless like they used to be when he’d come back from school breaks—but heavier now. tired. like someone who’d been carrying too much for too long.

he didn’t say anything when he saw me on the couch. just kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag by the stairs with a loud thud. typical jay.

“nice to see you too,” i muttered.

“didn’t ask for a welcome party,” he replied, brushing past me on his way to the kitchen.

there he was. park jongseong, stepbrother extraordinaire. back under the same roof we hadn’t shared since high school. now he was older, broader, moodier… and freshly dumped. did i mention sexier…

i stood, following him to the kitchen where he was already raiding the fridge like he hadn’t eaten in days. “don‘t touch the pasta,” i warned. “it’s mine.”

jay looked over his shoulder with a scoff. “you always label your food like someone’s dying to steal your sad little leftovers.”

“you do steal them.”

he pulled out a gatorade instead and shut the fridge with his hip. “relax. i’m not that desperate. yet.”

his tone was sharp, like he wanted to be mean just for the sake of it. i knew that tone. it was the same one he used when my mom married his dad, when we were suddenly siblings, and his entire life flipped. it had softened over the years… until now.

i crossed my arms. “so, how long are you staying?”

“until I figure it out,” he said, unscrewing the bottle and taking a long sip. “don’t worry, i’ll stay out of your way.”

“that’s not what i asked.”

he leaned against the counter, arms crossed now, mirroring me like it was some kind of contest. “didn’t realize i needed to clear my schedule for you, y/n”

i opened my mouth, then shut it. there was no winning with jay when he was like this. defensive. snappy. hurt.

“when is dad supposed to be home?” jay questioned, surprising you because you though he alerted the pair.

“they’re in europe, so they won’t be back until next month.”

jay signed, feeling a sense of relief.

“so what happened?” i asked finally, keeping my tone soft. “with her?” the tension rising in the air was thick.

his eyes flicked away. “don’t.”

“come on. you were with her for three years.”

“and now I’m not.” he tossed the bottle cap in the sink, his jaw tightening. “what do you want me to say? that I’m devastated? that I miss her? that I gave her everything and she threw it back in my face?”

i blinked. that was more honesty than i expected. and yet… he didn’t sound sad. just pissed.

“i want you to say something real,” i said. “not just hide behind sarcasm.”

he stepped forward, closing the distance between us. “you don’t know the first thing about real, y/n. you sit here with your pens and your playlists and your color-coded leftovers like the world can’t touch you.”

i flinched. not because it was true—but because he wanted it to hurt.

I lifted my chin. “at least I’m not pretending i’m fine when i’m clearly not.”

he paused. something in his expression cracked for a second. barely noticeable. but i saw it.

then, just like that, it was gone.

jay sighed and turned away. “i didn’t come back to fight with you.”

“no, you came back to sulk. and crash in your old room like nothing changed.”

he looked over his shoulder. “everything changed. that’s the problem.”

the silence stretched thick between us. tension. hurt. unsaid things.

i reached for a plate from the cabinet and slid it toward him. “there’s leftover garlic bread, too. heat it up for like 30 seconds.”

jay blinked. “you’re feeding me now?”

“i’m feeding you so you don’t keep snapping at me and acting like it’s my fault your relationship went to shit.”

he muttered something under his breath but grabbed the plate anyway. heated the bread. sat across from me like it was all part of the plan.

a few minutes passed in near silence before he asked, without looking up, “you think i’m a dick, don’t you?”

i glanced at him. “no.”

jay raised an eyebrow.

i smirked. “i think you’re acting like a dick. big difference.”

his lips twitched, just slightly. “guess you’ve always been good at reading me.”

“i live to call you out.”

he didn’t respond right away. just stared at the slice of garlic bread like it held the secrets of the universe.

“i really thought she was it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“i know,” i said softly.

we didn’t speak after that. but we didn’t need to. for once, it felt like maybe we weren’t on opposite sides of everything.

just two people who knew each other too well, but not at all at the same time.

and maybe that was the beginning of something real. even if it started with shared silence, burnt bread, and the same old bickering that had always meant more than we let on.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

it started small.

a towel left on the bathroom floor.

his shampoo on the wrong side of the shower.

the way he left the cabinet doors open like he’d never lived with another person before. maybe you’re just trying to get used to having another person in the house, because you hardly see your mom or jay‘s dad…

“you’re trying to drive me insane,” i muttered one night, tugging open the fridge and nearly knocking over his suspiciously large protein jug.

jay leaned against the counter, fresh out of a shower, hair damp, skin flushed from the heat. he didn’t even flinch. just sipped from his bottle and gave me that annoyingly amused smirk.

“maybe i like watching you unravel.”

i slammed the fridge door shut, narrowly missing his arm. “you’re a menace.”

“and you love it.” i felt the blood rushing to my cheeks.

his voice was low. casual. but there was something in it—a thread pulled tight with something unsaid. something almost dangerous.

i didn’t respond. i didn’t want to respond. not to him standing there with water still clinging to his collarbones, chest rising slow and steady like he knew i noticed.

he must’ve caught the shift in my eyes, because his grin twitched.

“what?” he asked.

“nothing,” i lied.

he stepped forward, too close, studying my face. “you’ve been weird.”

“i’m not weird. you’re weird.”

he arched a brow. “real mature.”

“real shirtless,” i shot back.

he glanced down at his bare chest like he’d forgotten. “you’re the one staring.”

i tried to shove past him, but he didn’t move.

“you always do this,” i hissed, voice tight. “you poke. you push. and then when someone gets too close, you act like they’re the problem.”

something flickered in his eyes. “you’re not just someone.”

the silence between us cracked like a match being struck.

i didn’t know what to say to that—what he meant by that—so i stepped back, muttering, “put on a damn shirt.”

he let me pass this time.

but later that night, i couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d said it.

“you’re not just someone.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the next day, it got worse.

i walked into the laundry room and—boom—there he was. shirt off again. leaning over the dryer, pulling out his clothes, muscles moving in a way that made my brain momentarily short-circuit.

“oh my god,” i groaned. “do you even own shirts?”

he didn’t look up. “they shrink when you do laundry at satanic temperatures.”

“you’re supposed to separate lights and darks—”

“i didn’t realize i was getting a lecture from martha freaking stewart,” he cut in, straightening to his full height.

and i hated that it made my heart skip. that smug look on his face, the little glint in his eyes. i hated that i knew his voice better than my own lately. hated that i noticed how his hair curled when it was wet. that I kept remembering the words he didn’t say.

“you gonna keep staring,” he asked, stepping toward me again, “or are you gonna hand me a hanger?”

“you wish I was staring.”

“i know you were.”

there was no space between us now.

just the warm scent of detergent, the dryer’s low hum, and the sound of my own blood rushing to my ears.

his fingers brushed mine as he took the hanger from me—on purpose. a soft, deliberate touch that made heat coil low in my stomach.

“thanks,” he said, voice low.

i took a step back, heart racing. “whatever.”

that night, i lay awake.

i could hear him moving around in the room across from mine. footsteps. a drawer opening. water running in the sink. even him still carrying boxes up from his car.

i rolled over. buried my face in my pillow.

he wasn’t just back in the house; he was under my skin.

and i hated that it didn’t feel wrong. not really.

just… dangerous

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

jay has been procrastinating… especially with moving all his boxes into his room. i’d like to think it was karma that when jay was halfway up the stairs a box slipped from his arms.

“shit!” he barked as it hit the floor with a heavy thunk, scattering smaller items across the hallway.

i peeked out of my room just in time to see him crouch down, shoving a few things hastily back inside. a book. socks. a sad, old hoodie i vaguely remembered from our high school days.

“you good?” i asked, stepping into the hallway in my oversized sleep shirt.

“yeah, i got it,” he muttered, not looking at me.

but there was one thing he hadn’t noticed.

one thing that had fallen just slightly into the doorway of my room.

a box… i picked it up and my breath hitched.

something… unmistakably shaped.

i blinked. looked again. oh my god.

it was a toy.

I shut the box with a snap, eyes wide, brain blank. what the hell?

“you missed something,” i called out lightly, trying to keep the crack out of my voice.

jay looked up—and froze.

his eyes locked onto the object.

his face turned an unreadable shade. “don’t open that,” he said, voice sharp.

but it was too late. i’d already opened it back up, fingertips brushing the silicone as i picked it up—carefully, like it might detonate. i was reveling in the sudden shyness of my stepbrother in front of me.

“is this…?” i trailed off. side eying the object in my hand.

he looked away, jaw tight. “a gift. it was supposed to be for her.”

“oh.” my throat felt dry. “so… it’s supposed to be…”

“yeah.” short. clipped.

i swallowed hard. “damn.” it was big, as i looked at it a little longer i started to imagine-

that made him glance at me—sharp. “what?”

“nothing.” i straightened up quickly, the toy still in my hand, like i’d forgotten how to function. “i just—didn’t think you’d let someone make a mold of your—uh. yeah.”

jay moved toward me, hand outstretched. “give it.”

i did—but not before our fingers touched.

his eyes flicked to mine.

we both froze.

the air between us went tight. dense. something electric curling just beneath the surface.

his voice dropped. “y/n.”

“sorry,” i whispered. “i just—”

“don’t apologize.” his eyes were unreadable again. “just… don’t go snooping in my stuff.”

“i didn’t! it literally landed into my room—”

“yeah, well maybe keep your door closed if you’re that sensitive.”

i narrowed my eyes. “maybe keep your dick replica packed better.”

he stared at me for a long second—and then, inexplicably, smiled.

“not my fault it wants to find you,” he said, voice low.

and then he turned, taking the box into his room, leaving me stunned and breathless in the hallway.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

i stared at the ceiling. my body hot. my thoughts worse.

i shouldn’t have imagined it. but i did.

i shouldn’t have touched it. but i wanted to.

and when i closed my door, slid under the sheets, and let my hand trail slowly down… it wasn’t the toy i was thinking about.

it was him.

his voice.

his smirk.

the way he’d said, “not my fault it wants to find you.”

and that’s when i realized—

it wasn’t just the toy i’d taken back with me.

it was the way he looked at me when i touched it. his gaze felt hungry, like he is going to pounce any chance he gets.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

i tossed and turned for what felt like hours.

my room was too hot. or maybe that was just me. every time i closed my eyes, it came back into focus.

that box.

that toy.

his voice.

“not my fault it wants to find you.”

ugh. what kind of stepbrother says something like that?

what kind of girl lets it take up space in her head all night?

the clock glowed 2:47 AM.

i should have just gone to sleep.

but i didn’t.

instead, i slipped out of bed quietly, the hardwood cool under my feet as i crept down the hallway, careful to avoid the creaky third floorboard. i paused outside his door, breath held, listening.

nothing.

no movement. no light. just the sound of his low, steady breathing on the other side.

i reached for the knob.

not locked.

it was almost worse that way. almost like an invitation.

the room smelled like him—clean, masculine, faintly woodsy from the cologne he used too much of. his jacket was slung over the back of his chair. a half-folded hoodie sat on the edge of the bed. and that damn box… was tucked neatly into the corner by his closet.

i hesitated.

this was stupid. this was so stupid.

and yet… my fingers curled around the edge of the lid, heart racing like i was about to do something criminal.

i cracked it open slowly.

there it was.

the toy.

i stared at it for a moment, biting my lip; i exhaled.

i shouldn’t touch it. not again.

but then i remembered how warm his hand had felt brushing mine. how smug he’d looked. how his voice had dipped low like he knew this would get to me.

maybe keep your door closed if you’re that sensitive.

i swallowed and reached in. picked it up.

it was… heavy. it’s about 8.5 inches with two prominent veins flowing up the side of the shaft. i trace my fingers along the ridges.

realistic. unfairly so.

god, i whispered inside my head. what the hell is wrong with you?

and then—

a floorboard behind me creaked.

my stomach dropped. my blood ran cold.

i froze, the toy still in hand.

another creak. closer this time.

“y/n?”

jay’s voice was gravel-rough, sleepy—but alert.

i didn’t turn. i couldn’t.

his voice was behind me now. right at the doorway. there was no escape…

“you really snuck in here. for that.”

i turned slowly, clutching the toy behind my back like i could hide it.

he looked at me, messy-haired, shirtless, sweatpants riding low on his hips—and smirking, just faintly.

caught. red-handed.

his voice lowered.

“you could’ve just asked.” the words shot right to my core.

my mouth went dry. “i—i wasn’t going to—”

“you weren’t going to what, y/n?”

the space between us pulsed. my skin burned. my heartbeat thundered in my ears.

he took a slow step forward. “you were thinking about it all night, weren’t you?”

“i couldn’t sleep,” I whispered.

“same.”

his eyes flicked to where my hand was hidden behind my back. he tilted his head, almost amused.

“do you want it?” he asked, voice just above a whisper. “or do you just want to know if it’s really that accurate?”

i couldn’t speak.

he leaned in, breath warm against my temple. “go on then. take it.”

and just like that—he stepped back.

left me standing there, trembling, heart hammering, desire tangled with something darker. something wrong. something so right.

i didn’t know what was worse—that i’d been caught… or that he hadn’t stopped me.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

i slid into my room, heart pounding in anticipation. the dildo modeled after jay's impressive… felt heavy in my hand as i closed the door.

i bit my lower lip, fingers trembling slightly as i gazed at the realistic silicone. my other hand reached down to slip between my legs, already feeling the heat and dampness building there.

our rooms are situated on a shared wall - he couldn't possibly miss the sound if i got myself worked up. the thought alone made me shudder with naughty excitement. perhaps this is payback for all the girls he would bring home in high school…

i stripped my clothes and tossed them aside carelessly. i slid onto the bed, leaning back against the pillows. my pussy was slick and swollen, aching for touch. spreading my legs wide, i pressed the toy's tip against my slick entrance.

a soft moan escaped my lips as she slowly pushed the thick head inside, stretching herself open.

he was big. the weight and size of it in your hand cannot compare to the feelings of being stuffed right now.

i started imagine it was jay's hard cock plunging into me, claiming me, filling me so deep and perfect.

"ohh... jay..." she whimpered, not caring if he heard her.

i began to pump the toy in and out, increasing the pace as my pleasure built. my moans grew louder, more wanton, echoing off the bedroom walls. one hand pinched at ny nipple while the other worked the dildo vigorously, fucking myself just like she imagined jay would.

"mmm, yes! fuck me with that big cock," i cried out, wishing it was really him pounding into her needy cunt. i came with a shudder, juices gushing out to coat the silicone. still trembling with pleasure, i froze at a light knock at the door.

i’m not answering that… i just act like i’m asleep. eventually i do nod off~

one thing i know for sure…

i need the real thing.

i need him.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the morning after my late-night heist, i tried to play it cool.

i acted like i hadn’t touched something i shouldn’t have. like i hadn’t been caught holding my stepbrother’s most intimate secret. like i hadn’t gone back to my room and…

well.

the kitchen was quiet when i walked in, oversized sweatshirt hanging just past my thighs, socks padding softly on the tile.

jay was already there—of course—leaning against the counter like he hadn’t just cracked open my sanity the night before.

his gaze flicked to me, unreadable.

“morning, thief,” he muttered.

i flushed instantly. “don’t start.”

he smirked. “didn’t say anything.”

“you didn’t have to.”

he turned back to his coffee. “you always this grumpy in the morning, or just when you get caught?”

i moved to the fridge, ignoring him. mostly. “you’re lucky i didn’t rat you out to mom.”

he scoffed. “you’d have to explain why you were in my room first.”

i froze with the fridge door still open, the cold air biting at my bare legs. when I turned, he was closer—mug in hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“i was just—curious,” i mumbled.

jay’s brow arched. “is that what we’re calling it?”

he brushed past me to grab the milk, his shoulder nudging mine.

too warm. too close.

“accidents happen,” i added.

his mouth quirked. “sure they do.”

his hand lingered at the small of my back just a moment too long as he stepped away, and i nearly dropped the carton i was holding.

the silence stretched—thick, strange, charged.

jay finally cleared his throat and grabbed a spoon. “you wanna help me move the rest of my boxes later?”

“i thought you got them all.”

“apparently not.” his tone was casual. too casual. “there’s one in the garage. pretty sure it’s got some personal stuff in it.”

i stiffened. “is it going to traumatize me?”

“only if you’re into that.”

i rolled my eyes, but my pulse wouldn’t stop racing. “fine. i’ll help.”

we didn’t say much after that, but the silence between us felt anything but empty. his shoulder brushed mine again when we reached for the same cabinet. his fingers grazed mine when he passed me the spoon. every tiny contact lit something beneath my skin.

like he was daring me to remember.

and I did.

every look. every word. every goddamn second from the night before.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

by the time we made it out to the garage, i was wound tight.

the last box was buried under old holiday decor. he tugged it free and popped the lid.

i expected more… questionable content.

but it was mostly old clothes, some photo albums, a few stray records.

he handed me a jacket to fold and paused with a crooked smile when his hand brushed mine—again.

“you jump every time I touch you,” he said softly.

“i do not.”

“you do.”

he took a step closer, voice quieter. “it’s cute.”

i stared at him. “why are you doing this?”

his smile faded slightly. “doing what?”

“this… thing. the tension. the touches. the jokes that aren’t really jokes.”

he looked down for a second, like he hadn’t expected me to say it out loud.

when he looked up again, his expression was serious. “i don’t know. maybe i missed being around someone who sees through my bullshit.”

i blinked.

that wasn’t the answer i expected.

he took the jacket from my hands slowly, knuckles grazing mine again.

and for a second—we just stood there.

too close.

too quiet.

and yet… not touching.

not yet.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the storm came in hard and fast—like it was trying to make up for a month of calm skies in one violent evening.

thunder cracked through the house like a whip. rain slammed against the windows, drowning out the sound of the tv. and then, just as jay walked back into the living room from the kitchen—darkness.

a full, heavy blackout.

“shit,” i muttered, curling tighter into the blanket i had wrapped around me. “did your dad pay the electric bill?”

jay was already at the window, peeking through the blinds. “it’s not just us. whole street’s out.”

“great.”

the dim blue light from his phone glowed faintly, painting sharp shadows across his jaw. he was wearing that loose, gray long-sleeve shirt that always hung low at the collar and clung a little too well to his chest and arms. i hated that i noticed.

“could be a while,” he said. “you want me to start lighting candles like we’re in a romance novel?”

“only if it ends in someone getting laid,” i muttered, half under my breath.

his head snapped toward me, one brow raised. “what was that?”

“nothing,” i said quickly. too quickly.

jay’s smirk stretched. “didn’t sound like nothing.”

i rolled my eyes and shifted on the couch. “whatever. just sit down before you get electrocuted or something.”

the power still hadn’t come back when the house dipped into a chill. the kind of cold that sneaks in through floorboards and makes every bit of skin feel too exposed.

jay reappeared with two candles and a single, thin blanket.

“i didn’t know we were preparing for the apocalypse,” he muttered. “this is the best i could do.”

he plopped onto the couch beside me, so close our thighs brushed. i shifted away instinctively, but he followed with a look that said don’t even try it.

“i’m not cuddling with you,” i warned.

he draped the blanket over both of us. “you say that now.”

“i’ll kick you.”

his voice dropped, lower now, teasing. “you’d have to straddle me to reach. that sounds dangerous.”

my heart jumped. “jay—”

“what? just being practical.”

we sat in silence for a beat. the rain hit harder. the room was cold.

and our bodies were… warm.

his thigh was solid against mine, like he hadn’t skipped a single gym day during his entire relationship. his shoulder bumped mine slightly as he leaned back, stretching an arm behind me on the couch. not quite around me—but it might as well have been.

“still cold?” he asked, voice just above a whisper.

i didn’t respond.

because the truth was, i wasn’t. not anymore. not with him this close. not with his scent thick in the air and his breath brushing my cheek every time he leaned a little too near.

he turned to look at me, one arm lazily slung along the back of the couch.

“you know,” he said, voice lower now, almost lazy, “you’re the only person who makes me feel anything lately.”

i turned to him slowly. “what do you mean?”

his eyes flicked down—to my lips, to my bare thighs under the blanket, back to my eyes. and it wasn’t playful now.

it was real.

“i mean… i haven’t even thought about her since i moved back,” he said. “not once. not even when i should’ve.”

i swallowed. my voice was barely a whisper. “and now?”

his jaw flexed. he leaned in closer.

“now i think about you when i shouldn’t.”

i sucked in a sharp breath, and before i could answer—before i could even think—the thunder cracked again.

i jumped.

he caught me.

a hand, firm and steady, on my waist.

and suddenly he was closer than he had ever been.

our noses nearly brushed. the blanket slipped lower. i could feel his body heat like a flame beneath my skin.

“you okay?” he murmured.

i nodded, barely.

his hand was still on my waist, grounding me. his fingers lingered. not leaving. not anymore.

and neither was the tension.

it filled the room like smoke—hot, breathless, dangerous.

i didn’t move.

neither did he.

i should’ve pulled away. should’ve said something sharp or sarcastic—something to cut through the heat.

but I didn’t. i just stared at him, heart racing like a warning bell I chose to ignore.

jay’s eyes searched mine, and for once, he wasn’t smirking. there was no teasing. no edge. just something tired and raw.

“you don’t know what it’s like,” he said quietly.

he exhaled hard, like he’d been holding it in. “losing someone… and then coming home to someone who makes you forget why you were even sad in the first place.”

my breath caught. “jay…”

his thumb brushed the bare skin at my side, just a graze. just enough to make my voice catch.

“i was with her for three years,” he said, voice low. “and I don’t think I ever really felt her. not like this. not like I feel you when you’re in the same room.”

my stomach twisted.

“you piss me off,” he added, a bitter chuckle escaping. “you leave lights on. you steal my hoodies. you roll your eyes like i’m the dumbest person alive.”

i looked down, sheepish.

“but then you say things like ‘are you okay?’ when you think I’m not listening. or you sit next to me on the couch like your body doesn’t fit unless it’s leaning into mine.”

his fingers flexed gently on my waist. my pulse roared in my ears.

“i didn’t come back here to feel something else,” he said, more to himself than to me. “but you—y/n, you make everything fucking louder. the silence hurts more when you’re not around. the house feels colder when your door’s closed.”

i swallowed, my throat tight. “then why do you push me away?”

he looked up, his eyes dark and honest. “because I shouldn’t want this. because you’re the one line I’m not supposed to cross.”

i blinked fast, my chest tight.

“then why are you still holding me?”

he didn’t answer right away. just stared at me, like the words burned before they ever reached his lips.

finally, his voice dropped to a whisper. “because you feel like home.”

my breath hitched.

something in the room shifted—something deeper than lust, more dangerous than want.

“you could’ve told me,” I said quietly.

“i was scared.”

I nodded, barely. “me too.”

he moved then—slowly, carefully. his forehead met mine, breath shared.

“i’m not a good guy,” he whispered.

“you’re better when you’re with me.”

his lips hovered over mine, but didn’t press.

not yet.

“i want this to mean something,” he said. “even if we’re fucked up. even if it’s wrong.”

i nodded, barely able to speak. “it already does.”

the silence between us had weight.

his hand was still on my waist—strong, steady, claiming in a way it shouldn’t be. i could feel every ridge of his fingers through the thin fabric of my shirt. feel his breath warm against my cheek. the storm outside had faded to a distant rhythm, but the storm inside me was just getting started.

i should’ve moved.

he should’ve moved.

but neither of us did.

instead, i whispered, “jay…”

his name sounded too soft coming from my mouth. too familiar. too yearning.

and he heard it.

because his eyes flicked up, meeting mine with something raw. something I didn’t recognize.

our eyes met again, voice rough. “i can describe what it’s been like. living with you again. hearing you in the shower. seeing you walk around in those little shorts. watching you pretend this whole thing doesn’t make your skin burn.”

my breath caught.

“jay—”

his thumb brushed against the hem of my shirt. just a graze. just enough to make my stomach flip.

“i’ve wanted you,” he whispered, “for years, y/n.”

my heart stopped.

he said it like it hurt. like it tasted like sin on his tongue. but he didn’t stop.

“back then, when i was with her? i’d come home and hear you laughing down the hall. and all i could think was… why the fuck isn’t it you in my bed?”

i sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide.

“i tried to stop,” he said. “tried to bury it. but then I moved back in, and you were right there—so fucking warm, so close, looking at me like you hate me, and i just…”

he shook his head, and his hand gripped my waist tighter.

he pulls back to scan his eyes over my moonlit expression. “i want you to tell me to stop,” he said lowly. “because if you don’t…”

my legs were already pressing together. my pulse was out of control.

“i won’t stop, y/n.”

i stared at him, heart racing.

his lips were inches away. hovering. waiting.

one more breath and they’d be on mine.

my voice barely worked. “what if i don’t want you to stop?”

his jaw flexed.

something behind his eyes snapped.

he surged forward—not kissing me, not yet—but his forehead pressed to mine, our noses brushing. his hand slipped under the hem of my shirt, warm and possessive against my bare skin.

“i want to ruin you for everyone else,” he growled. “you know that, right?”

i gasped.

he slid his hand higher, just under my ribs, dragging heat in his wake.

“i want you to remember the way i touch you. i want you to think about me every time someone else tries to.”

i couldn’t breathe. couldn’t move.

“say it,” he whispered, lips brushing mine now. “say you want this too.”

“i do,” i breathed. “i want you.”

and that’s when his mouth crashed onto mine.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

his lips were on mine—hot, hungry, controlled in the way that meant he was anything but.

jay kissed like he was trying to shut himself up.

like he’d said too much already, and now his mouth needed to do something else—like taste, claim, ruin.

but when i whimpered into the kiss—just barely—he pulled back. breathing hard. his forehead still against mine, both of us trembling.

“not here,” he rasped.

my eyes flicked up. “what?”

he licked his lips. “not on the couch. not like this. i want…”

he stopped himself. eye dark, jaw tight.

“you want what?” i whispered.

“i want to remember it.”

my breath caught.

he stood first, tugging me up with him. and without saying anything else, he led me up the stairs and down the dark hall—his hand wrapped around mine, warm and sure. thunder cracked again, but it was distant now. nothing compared to what was building inside my chest.

jay’s door clicked shut behind us.

everything was still.

the room smelled like him—deep, woodsy cologne and clean sheets and something masculine I couldn’t name. getting flashbacks to the night that he caught me sneaking in. i was barely breathing when he turned to me again.

he didn’t rush.

his fingers found the hem of my shirt first, tugging it gently up and over my head. he dropped it to the floor like it was sacred. his hands came to rest on my waist again, but this time slower, deliberate—like he was learning something for the first time.

“you’re real,” he said softly, like he still couldn’t believe it.

i reached for his shirt next. my fingers shook. i didn’t want it to. i wanted to be calm. i wanted to be enough for this moment. but his skin under my palms made my head swim.

jay let me pull it off, and his body lit like sculpture in the candlelight—lean and strong, every line of muscle carved by tension and time and regret.

“you’re shaking,” he whispered.

“i’m nervous,” i admitted.

he cupped my cheek with one hand. “so am i.”

then—softly—he kissed me again.

not frantic this time.

not like before.

but like he had all night to learn me. like he’d been waiting to. his lips moved with mine slowly, deliberately, like he was tasting every second. like he wanted to remember every breath. and I kissed him back the same way.

when we tumbled onto the bed, he caught me—pressed me into the mattress like a secret, hands braced on either side of my head.

he hovered there, just breathing.

then, “tell me to stop.”

i didn’t. i pulled him in instead.

the flicker of the candle on his nightstand lit his eyes with something almost unholy as he pulled back. “say it again,” he whispered.

my throat tightened. “say what?”

“that you want me.”

he didn’t sound smug. not cocky or teasing. just needy. like the words mattered more than he wanted them to.

i swallowed, fingers twisting in his sheets.

“i want you,” i said. then louder, more certain: “i want you, jay.”

his breath stuttered out of him like I’d hit something deep.

“god, you have no idea,” he muttered, and then his mouth was on mine again—hotter this time. hungrier.

i gasped when he kissed down my jaw, biting lightly beneath my ear, then dragging his tongue across the sting. my hands clutched at his back, nails scoring into skin i‘d only ever seen in glances before. he was everywhere—heat and weight and the scent of rain still lingering in the air.

“you make me crazy,” he growled against my throat. “you walk around this house like you’re not mine to look at. like you’re not already under my skin.”

i whimpered when he ground his hips into mine, slow and punishing.

“i used to hate you,” i breathed, voice breaking. “hated that i thought about you when i shouldn’t.”

he froze for half a second—just long enough to make me think I said too much.

but then he was kissing me hard again, devouring the words right off my tongue.

“you think- I didn’t?” he panted between kisses. “you think I didn’t hate myself for it? you in those damn little sleep shorts… that laugh that gets under my ribs… you’d slam your door just to piss me off, and all i could think about was how much i wanted to slam you against it and hear you say my name.”

my whole body flushed, hips arching instinctively against him. the pressure between us made me bite back a moan.

“jay—”

he growled my name. “say it again. say my name when you sound like that. say my name the way you said it when you fucked yourself with my cock.”

he heard everything that night…

“jay-”

“fuck.”

he yanked my leg around his waist and finally, finally ground down—hot, hard, deliberate. i gasped, nails raking down his spine.

and then—softer, broken—he stilled.

“i’m not good at this,” he said, his voice quieter now. “i’ll fuck it up. i’ll say the wrong thing. i’ll want you when i shouldn’t.”

i cupped his jaw, guiding his eyes back to mine.

“i want you anyway.”

he blinked, something like hope cracking through the storm behind his eyes.

“then hold on,” he whispered, mouth brushing mine. “because i’m not going to be gentle.”

“good,” i whispered back. “i don’t want you to be.”

jay didn’t kiss me again right away.

he looked at me—like he was making sure I was still there, still his, still saying yes without a single word. my heart thrashed in my chest under his gaze. his fingers traced the line of my hip, then gripped it hard, stilling me under him.

and then? he snapped.

rough hands pushed my legs wider, dragging me flush against him like he needed it to breathe. he ground down hard, swallowing the sound that tore from my throat as his mouth finally crashed back onto mine. his kiss was brutal—teeth and tongue, not asking, just taking.

jay’s hand slid up my side, under my bra, knuckles grazing, controlling. when i arched into him, chasing more, he pinned my wrist above my head with one hand, his fingers wrapping around mine like a shackle.

“keep them there,” he growled into my neck.

my breath hitched. “what if i don’t?”

his eyes flicked up. wild. dark. amused.

“then i’ll make you.”

he rolled his hips again—once, slow and rough—and i felt how badly he wanted this. how much he’d held back.

“i think you like being told what to do,” he murmured. “is that what it is? hm?”

“jay—”

“you act like you hate me,” he panted, teeth grazing the shell of my ear. “but your body says something else. you’ve been begging for this since the minute i came back.”

i couldn’t breathe. couldn’t move.

my hands twitched—reflexively wanting to grab him—but i remembered what he said. keep them there. that one command pulsed through my skin like a brand.

“you’re shaking,” he whispered. “good.”

he let go of my wrist, only to drag both his hands down—bruising over my ribs, my hips, squeezing every inch like he wanted to memorize it in pressure. he manhandled me like he needed to feel me struggle a little. like the fight made it mean more.

and i gave in.

let him flip me under him. let him press his weight down until my breath caught. let him drag his hand up the inside of my thigh, stopping just short of where i wanted him most.

“say it again,” he growled, lips brushing my neck.

“jay,” I whimpered.

he bit down, just enough to make me gasp.

“louder.”

“jay—please—”

he kissed me again, this time slower but no less desperate. fingers tangled in my hair. my thighs tightened around his hips. our bodies locked in a rhythm that wasn’t quite there yet, but promised everything.

and just before everything melted into heat and noise and blurred lines—

he whispered, “this changes everything.”

i whispered back, “i don’t care.”

that’s the words he was hoping to hear. he back away and repositioned himself. he was facing my core. he looked up at me with a glint of hunger behind his eyes.

“i heard everything that night,” he smirks as he snakes his hands around my hips to pull my closer to the edge of the bed. making me squeak.

“fuck, I love thinking about you getting off on a dildo molded from my cock. feeling the thick head spreading your lips wide open, stretching you out. imagining the way your cunt would flutter and clench around the shaft as you fuck yourself with it, trying to take it deeper.”

he slips my pants off and pulls my underwear to the side.

“god- i want to feel your breath on my neck, stomach, between my legs… it’s driving me wild.”

with that command, he plunges his tongue deep. instinctively i squeeze my thighs at the intruder.

“little sister tastes so sweet-“ he adds as he licks a stripe up to my clit. bringing me back to reality for a second, but in my surprise his words turned my on even more.

“it wasn’t enough, was it?” he questions.

“because no matter how big and realistic it is, it's still just a piece of plastic. it can't compare to the feeling of my thick cock splitting you open, feeling me twitch and throb inside you as i fill you up with my cum.”

“please-“ i whined lowly as he plunged into my center. i could feel him nipping at me, signaling jay’s interest had piqued.

"i can't stop thinking about you either," he admitted, voice low and rough with desire. "about sliding into your tight little cunt and making you scream for me."

he got up suddenly and started to remove his buckle with no haste. he was just as desperate, if not more, as i am.

i look pathetic as jay stares at me. i’m already fucked out with him barely touching me.

“did you imagine the way i would grab your hips and hold you down as i pound into you, making you take every last inch?”

i hide my face when all of his words are traveling right to my core.

“jay, please just fuck me. i can’t take it any longer.”

“that’s what i thought, you need to be fucked by the real thing, need to feel my hands on your body and hear my voice in your ear. know that it's me inside you, claiming this pussy as mine.” the words melt off his lips as he removes his boxers.

he’s…

huge

and it looks exactly like the toy you have hidden under your pillow.

"tell me you need your big brother's cock."

“jay- mmh- i need you- i need your cock.”

“that’s it baby. spread your legs for me. fuckkkk, you're so wet for me," jay groaned, pushing in just the tip and then pulling back out.

"stop teasing and just fuck me already!" i demanded, trying to pull him closer.

jay reaches over to his bedside table, and i make a split decision. i want to feel him deep, nothing in between us.

“stop,” i grab his arm. he looks at me shocked, “i want to feel every inch, nothing in between.”

jay also came on the spot, he had to take a breath to contain himself. he leaned down and planted a deep kiss on my lips.

“ok baby, promise to look me in the eyes,” he said with smirk.

jay grinned wolfishly and thrust his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. we held eye contact what felt like forever. i was being split apart.

i threw my head back with a choked cry, feeling utterly stuffed full of him. "oh fuck jay! yes, yes, yes!"

he set a fast, punishing pace, slamming into me over and over again. The wet sounds of our coupling filled the room as he took me hard in HIS bed.

"so tight," he grunted, angling his hips to hit my g-spot with every thrust. "gonna fill this pussy up."

my pussy clenched around him as i started to come apart. he pulled out, leaving just his tip inside of me.

"i'm going to breed you so fucking good. pound this tight pussy until my cum is leaking out of you." with that filthy promise, he surged forward, burying himself balls deep in one hard thrust.

i cried out at the delicious stretch, nails raking down jay's back as he set a brutal pace, fucking her into the mattress.

"fuck yes, take it!" jay snarled, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside her. "milk my cock, baby. i want to fill this cunt to the brim."

i was lost to the pleasure, meeting his thrusts mindlessly as ecstasy built within me. "don't stop, oh god, right there! I'm gonna- AH!"

jay snarled and bit down on her neck possessively, fucking her through her orgasm. he could feel himself getting close too. "that's it, cream on my cock. fuck, i'm gonna nut deep."

my orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave and i clamped down around jay like a vice.

"Y/N!" he roared, slamming into me one last time before painting her insides with his hot seed.

“jay- baby, please more,” i say, not yet feeling complete. jay wonders if he just wondered into the bed of a sex beast. he chuckles, heaving slightly trying to catch his breath.

“is little sister always so eager to spread your legs for me, because nothing else can compare to the feeling of your stepbrother's cock stretching you out?” he questioned, feeling you squeeze him.

i nod my head letting little whimpers out.

jay then flipped me over onto my hands and knees, feeling disappointed at the loss of connection between the two of us. i felt his seed spill out of me as he smacked my ass hard enough to leave a pink handprint.

"time for round two, baby girl. you’re going to ride me like the horny little slut you are."

he flipped us again, reversing their positions, until i was straddling his hips, his thick shaft nestled between my wet folds.

"let's see how well you can take control," he said with a challenging smirk, his hands settling on my hips.

i bit my lip, tentative at first as i positioned myself over his cock. slowly, i sank down, letting him stretch me open inch by glorious inch. "ohhh fuuuck..." i moaned, eyes fluttering shut as she adjusted to his girth once again.

“look at me when i'm filling up your greedy little cunt," jay commanded, gripping her hips firmly. "i want to see the pleasure on your face as you bounce on my dick."

my eyes snapped open, meeting his intense gaze as i began to rise up and sink back down. i found a steady rhythm, boobs bouncing with each movement. "mmmm, you feel so good," i gasped, clenching around him.

"fuck yes, just like that," jay growled approvingly, guiding my movements with his hands. "ride me faster, show me what a desperate whore you are for my cock."

i whimpered, complying with his demands as i picked up the pace. the wet sounds of our fucking filled the room, mixing with our moans and cries. jay's hands moved to my ass, spreading my cheeks wide as he thrust up to meet my movements.

"you're being such a good little cumslut for me," he praised darkly. "i bet you can't wait to have my baby in this pussy, can you?"

"please, I need it!" i begged shamelessly, feeling myself start to unravel. "fill me up jay! fucking cum in my pussy. breed me like the naughty girl i am!"

"that's it, scream for me baby," he urged, snapping his hips up harder. "loud enough for the whole fucking street to hear what a needy little whore you are for your stepbrother's cock."

"OH MY GOD!" i threw my head back with a wail as my second orgasm crashed through her, cunt fluttering and milking jay's cock. he kept pistoning, fucking me through my high. he followed moments later, snarling his release as he pumped her full of his hot seed. feeling so full.

they collapsed together in a sweaty tangle of limbs, both gasping for breath. jay pulled me into a filthy kiss, tangling his fingers in her hair. "my perfect little cumdump," he rumbled against her lips.

jay rolls off me, his naked body glistening with sweat as he sprawls out on the bed. his eyes gleam with a mischievous spark.

"fuck, that was hot. i can't believe we just did that, baby. bet you never thought your own flesh and blood could rock your world like that."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the room was quiet now.

only the soft whir of the ceiling fan and the occasional crack of thunder still rumbling outside. my skin was still buzzing, my breath finally starting to slow, but my heart… not so much.

jay hadn’t moved in a while.

he was still half-draped over me, chest pressed to my back, his arm curled tight around my waist like he wasn’t ready to let go. his breath warmed the curve of my shoulder, slow and steady against the skin he’d once bruised with his mouth.

i turned my head slightly. “you still alive?”

he didn’t answer right away. just hummed low in his throat and nuzzled closer, his nose brushing the back of my neck.

“barely,” he muttered. “you killed me.”

a small laugh escaped me. quiet. nervous. soft.

then i felt it—his hand sliding up from my waist, skimming over my ribs until it found my hand and laced our fingers together.

gentle. like he’d never gripped me too tight. like he wasn’t the same person who’d just pinned me down and made me come undone.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice a low rasp in the dark.

that got me. the softness. the checking in.

i nodded. “yeah. you?”

he exhaled into my skin. “…no.”

i blinked, twisting slightly to look at him. “what?”

jay met my gaze, barely. his lashes were low, and for the first time all night, he looked… tired. raw.

“i’m not okay,” he said again, quieter this time. “because i know what i just did. and i know i can’t take it back.”

i searched his face. “do you want to take it back?”

silence.

his thumb brushed slow circles against the back of my hand. he stared at our fingers, still linked between us.

“no,” he admitted. “but i want to do it right.”

he shifted closer, pulling the blanket higher over both of us, tucking it around my shoulder like a habit. something in him had shifted. his movements, his breath, his touch—they were all different now. still firm, still possessive—but quieter. more deliberate.

“i don’t want you thinking this was just tension,” he murmured. “or a mistake. or something i’ll ignore in the morning.”

i stared at him, chest tightening. “and what if i already know that?”

he met my eyes then, really looked.

something flickered across his face—something like relief, tangled in guilt and hope.

“you still feel like home,” he whispered. “even now.”

and somehow, that wrecked me more than anything he’d done with his hands.

i shifted back into his chest and let him hold me. let myself believe—for the first time in a long time—that maybe this wasn’t just a mistake waiting to happen.

maybe this was what came after.

“i guess you can keep my replica… even though i already ruined you…” we both chuckled in unison.

bittenbyenhypen, 2025

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #park jongseong #enhypen #enhypen jay #x reader #enhypen x y/n

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