fictional-heartbreak
fictional-heartbreak
Fictional Heartbreak
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fictional-heartbreak · 26 days ago
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When you find a devastatingly beautiful story but suddenly you can't talk about it or share it because it's written in fanfiction (esp in "x reader").
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© nina, black swan (2010)
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fictional-heartbreak · 3 months ago
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FOR ALL YOUR ATTENTION
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tsu’tey x gn!reader
includes: na’vi!reader. mate tsu’tey. teasing reader. tsu’tey is literally whipped. probably ooc oh well. suggestive. re-upload.
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If there is one thing you know about Tsu’tey, it is that he is attentive. Whether that be in the sense of categorizing and keeping tabs on his people, or the doting he does on those he holds dear in private; he is always watching, waiting, basking in the shadows to make sure he knows every detail. You think it partially to be his position as future Olo’eyktan that makes him that way. But you also know it to be just how he is in nature—even if he’d struggle to openly admit that. 
A fatal flaw on his part, maybe. The way he is so devoted to the lives of those around him; how he is so willing to double stack his duties to take care of the needs of his people. Bearing more stress and burden than he should (or more inside knowledge than he has any right to know) because he is simply so keen on ensuring he is not out of the loop with anyone, ever. 
He’s being attentive even now, at this very moment. If that is what you could call spying on Jake and Neytiri from his perch of raised tree roots, partially shielded by the overgrown flora in front of him. It is sweet and terribly endearing how he cares for her, loves her; his want to protect knows no limits. 
Someone else might stir up a smidgen of jealousy at that, but not you. See, even if he had been betrothed to her, you’re conscious of what resides in his heart; what always has. You know that his feelings never crossed that one fine line, no matter how much he’d try to pretend that they did. How much he was willing to sacrifice for the sake of his clan to have strong leaders—willing leaders. It’s commendable. 
Such an admirable act of a man of his caliber, one must admit. 
And it isn’t that he does not trust Jake—because if asked he would have to be honest and begrudgingly attest that he has grown quite fond of the uniltìranyu—but he is just.. wary. Rightfully so. That is a well suited sentiment for these types of situations. Relationships with tawtute, no matter how docile and complaisant they may seem, should always be handled with a lingering sense of fragility. So you understand his urge to leer, his need to observe when he is alone with one of your people. 
It doesn’t mean you don’t find it the slightest bit amusing, though. How he’ll stress and strain over maintaining glimpses. Hearing him scoff when you tease of his meddling is humorous. You enjoy getting to tug on his leg. 
“You are lurking again,” you state, stepping up beside Tsu’tey’s still form on the root, peering through the clearing of brush right along with him. 
And he must have been far more engrossed in his couple watching than you thought (it’s not like you were trying to sneak up on him after all, your steps were not even close to quiet) because he flinches the tiniest, minute bit at the sound of your voice. His head snaps to you and you turn your own to meet his gaze. 
“I am not lurking,” he rebuts, lips dipping downward in a scowl. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes just by the tone of his voice, but he won’t. He’s aware that that gives you satisfaction. 
Little does he know you get satisfaction from that fact alone. 
“Ah, right. Then what would you choose to call this? Spying?” You tip your head, a seemingly innocent gesture but it is nothing of the sort. Playing Tsu’tey is quite effortless when the dice fall into your practiced hands so routinely. “Snooping?”
“That is—” Absurd? Foolish? Whatever word was going to punctuate the end of his sentence dies before it reaches the tip of his tongue. His mouth screws up for a moment, along with the ridges of his brows, and you can tell something about him that is so painfully easy to pick up on. “I do not snoop.”
“Sure you don’t.” 
Your words tilt with a shrug of your shoulders, the leveling of your head. Swiveling back around to look through the brush once again, you have to bite your cheek to fight the smile threatening your lips as Tsu’tey still stays locked on you. It’s a pleasing feeling, knowing you have riled him up so much in less than a minute.
“I do not snoop. Nor do I spy.” He reiterates, says it with authority now. In the same stern voice he uses to talk to the children of the clan and warn them about venturing too far into the depths of the forest without parental supervision. But you are an excessive amount of familiar with him for it to work on you; for it to sway you in the slightest.
If anything it eggs you on. Maybe a small personality flaw; most definitely a little boorish of you. Nevertheless you enjoy it, you think you always will. Because you are the only one who gets to see Tsu'tey like this. Who gets to poke and preen and tease, without worrying if your head might end up on a pike afterwards. (Not that he could stomach ever doing such a thing without a monsoon of reasons, truly, because even behind his ostensibly permanent glower he is just a big hearted fool deep down). 
“I see,” you hum, and his gaze is still boring holes into the side of your skull, “Then you’re just nosy.”
“I am nothing of the sort.” And there it is, the scoff that always comes when you begin to make sport of his tendencies trailing after his detest. You’ve finally got him—successfully sunk your teeth into his throat and dragged him right into your claw toothed trap. 
“Great,” you denounce, then flick your gaze back to that of the agitated man beside you. “Then it will not matter to you to know that Jake and Neytiri snuck out of your sight five minutes ago.”
“What?” Head whirling, eyes shooting wide, he turns back instantly to his break in the brush to confirm your statement.
Your statement that was in fact laced in nothing but falsity and had the sole purpose of exposing him for just how intrusive he is; which worked like a charm, you must add. Jake and Neytiri are still there, of course. Still talking and collecting herbs like they were before. Still enjoying their innocent—albeit sickeningly flirtatious—time together. 
Tsu’tey whips back around to look at you, this time squaring his shoulders to glare at you properly.
“Wiya!” He hisses, but it holds no threat. Just his annoyance, the baseline of frustration. (Probably out of embarrassment for being caught, if the sharp flick of his tail is any indication at all). “What is it that you need?”
You consider him, hold his gaze. There are one of two ways you could go about this and you’re trying to decide which route would be the most entertaining. It becomes clear with each tick of his jaw what option you’re going to settle on, so you begin to pick up the puzzle pieces and place them down methodically. 
“Oh, nothing.” Shrugging as you lace your fingers behind your back, you count your breaths. “Was just seeing what you were up to.”
Tsu’tey, expectedly, does not waver still. “I am busy tending to things.”
“You mean spying?”
“No.”
“Hm.”
After your hum you let another pause take place. Another beat of silence between the two of you. There’s a faint rustling to your right and out of the corner of your eye you see Jake and Neytiri actually gathering their things to leave this time. You wonder if it’s because they heard the two of you or perhaps on their own whim. Regardless, you don’t miss the twitch of Tsu’tey’s ears as he picks up on it too. You’re almost certain his brows knit tighter together, if that is even possible. 
“What do you need, yawne?” He repeats himself, presses once more. 
Yet even on edge, his tongue strikes lovingly. How enthralling of him, how compelling. How can he expect you not to want to toy with him? When he is just so yielding? 
You shake your head. “Nothing.”
Another pass. The noises of the forest fill in your lull. 
“Well,” he huffs, straightening himself out. “If there is nothing you need then you should be going. Like I said, I am busy.”
And you’ve been plotting, scheming, for this perfect time to swing the hatchet down. Tsu’tey has set you up beautifully, honestly. It’s almost like he’s in on it himself. He should know better by now, you think.
“Right, you’re busy.” This time, your words drift off with a deep sigh. Shoulders rising up and dropping theatrically like they’re being controlled by a puppeteer's strings, you turn to leave the same way that you came. You mumble under your breath, but not low enough that the man in your presence cannot hear you as you take your first steps away, “Always so busy. Looking out for everyone. Leaving me be..”
Tsu’tey’s sharp intake of breath might be stifled, but you hear it without a single shred of strain. In less than a second wide strides are being made to close the short gap you’ve created between the two of you. And just as soon as they stop, the unreserved grip of a calloused hand is clutching onto the ridge of your hip bone, pivoting you back around to beset the (now slightly less annoyed) warrior before you.
“Leaving you be?” His voice is tainted with something endearing, something unfiltered. Concern flitters across his strong features and it’s riveting; telling. 
You’ve got him. Right in the palm of your hand. 
“Mhm.” Angling your chin with a nod you turn your eyes downward. Relaxing your shoulders into a defeated slump, posturing yourself to be despondent. “It’s fine, really. I know you are an important man. I should not expect your undivided attention.”
“My attention?” He quirks, and his hand is leaving your hip only to take place on your jaw. He tips your head up but you still keep your gaze averted. It is not time to give in yet. “You have all of my attention, always. OeyĂ€ txe’lan, why would you believe that you do not?”
You bite your tongue. Attentive, heeding; earnest is his expression as he deciphers every twitch across your face. You’d think for a man that is so good at reading you he would be able to tell when you are presenting faux emotions. Yet it’s like his worriment outweighs his fluency of you.
Somehow that’s even more touching.
“Ma (Y/n),” he hearkens, veering into your line of sight until you’re forced to meet his gaze, now. The intensity of his focus has your stomach fluttering, your hands behind your back ringing together. Oh, how you love him. “Tell me, am I being neglectful of you? What is it I have failed to do?”
“I—” His thumb is rubbing against the plane of your jaw. The curve of his lips pushes them out in an adoring pout as he inspects every quiver and crease of your features. 
This was supposed to be a fun little game, one you are used to playing and one you are always in control of. So why does it suddenly feel like Tsu’tey has wiped the gameboard clean and tossed out all the cards? How has he flipped this on you, by simply cracking open his chest and laying his bleeding heart atop the deck? How has he become the game master, with a simple cradle of his palm and the dripping of devoted professions off his tongue?
How is this fair at all?
“OeyĂ€ tĂŹyawn.” My love, my heart; he holds you with such firm care like you are the very muscle that pumps life into his body. Like you are the very essence of his soul, all in all. Like you are his lifeblood—and aren’t you, really? “Do you crave for my attention? Have I not awarded you enough?”
“No.” It’s instant, no hesitation in your deliverance and, somehow, this is not about teasing your lover anymore. Your lungs burn, your internal clock ticks like the time frame of minutes has been cut short. “No, it is not enough.”
Contrition trickles down Tsu’tey’s face like watercolor pathos coating concern by the brush of your velvet tongue. His grip on your jaw softens, his free hand slides across the hollow of your throat until his fingertips bracket the braid encasing your kuru. He steps close; impossibly closer than he was until the beads of his neck piece scrape delicately against your sternum, until his breath fights to contrast the already growing warmth of your blood rushed cheeks. 
You swallow, but it is not enough to stomach the tension clawing up your ribcage. His forehead is just a mere breadth from yours, his nose twitching millimeters from your own. With his ears pressed back and his tail flicking lowly, he envelops every sense a Na’vi can use. 
He debilitates you, wholly and unquestionably. 
“Forgive me,” he presses, and his lips seal yours before you can respond. “Forgive me, paskalin,” he longs as he steals your breath once more, presses his thumb against your pulse point. “Ngaytxoa, Ma (Y/n). May you never want for my attention again. I will grant you anything to prove as such. What do you wish of me?”
“I wish
” It is tasking, trying to catch your breath. He is just so close and just so consuming and adhering. “I wish for you.”
“Me?” He ticks his head, drops a hand in order to slide it down to the base of your spine. “You have me, all of me. Do not be foolish and believe otherwise.”
You blink, regain yourself. Yes, you suppose he is right. You suppose you do have him—all of him—that his actions now prove to supplement that statement. So what is it you really want? What is it you crave of a man who has given you everything even if you bait that he does not? What is the desire that you harbor in your heart, that he has not already graced you with forthright, at the any shallow utterance you muster?
“The day,” you wager, “Spend the rest of this day with me.”
Tsu’tey’s lips cinch to the side for a moment—his duties listing off on the blackboard of his mind, you are sure—but a moment is all he tenses before his foundation gives. He nods, cleaves to your wish. 
“Of course. What would you plan? A hunt? A harvest?”
A fang hooks the corner of your lip and you shake your head. So willing to heed to you but it is not quite right, not quite on script. He has mistaken your petition for something far more innocent than you thought he would; but you suppose you cannot fault the conservativeness of a warrior that holds such merit as he. 
“You mistake me,” you correct, snaking your hands up until they reside over the ridges of his protruding collarbones. “I wish to spend the day with you. Alone. As my mate. Doing that of which only mates are permitted.”
At this, Tsu’tey’s ears flicker; his pupils expand against his will and you take that as your sign of agreement before he even murmurs as such. And his compliance does not run verbal—not fully—other than a gruff rumble of his chest as the hand on his spine drifts to drag against the back of your thigh and hoist you up. Instinctive is the way your legs find themselves winding around his cinched waist. The woven ridges of his cummerbund brush against the insides of your thighs, and it is not an unfamiliar feeling.
Funny, how as lips sear against your own, drift and smear along your jaw and down the curve of your throat until they find refuge on your pulsepoint at which his thumb now retreats, you feel far more innocent than tainted. Perhaps love does that to someone; hides guilt or shame and breeds only purity. Perhaps attention can surely prove to be a cure all, in certain sentiments. 
Whatever it is, you embrace it fully and relish in it with all of your being.
And maybe it distracts you, just slightly, because your tongue grows dangerously loose as you give up your will. You really do prove to be your own betrayer, truly.
“Sau,” you sigh as you tip your head to the side to allow virtuous lips room to roam, “I should tempt you with plight more often.”
Kisses halt and hands tighten where they grip onto you. You realize your mistake just as soon as the last word rolls off your tongue, but you cannot swallow down things already spoken. Fingers still sifted into Tsu’tey’s braids, you peer down as he leans back enough to look up at you. 
“How kawng of you,” he aims, but he grants you no tell of expression.
“And even so?” You ponder, hum as you scratch the base of his scalp. “Will you revoke my request from me? Will you be so cruel as to deny me this?”
“Do not be foolish,” he hearkens, and something twinkles in his eyes as he says it—something twitches at the tilt of his lips. “You will have your day with me, just as you wish.”
“How merciful of you.” And you cannot help the simper that plays at your mouth. Even after fumbling, giving up your original position, you have still seemingly gotten your way. How delightful, this has proven to be.
But Tsu’tey’s fingers delve into the meat of your thigh with a little more pressure. His kisses find their way back to the juncture between your throat and jaw with a little more fervent. His tail brushes against your hooked ankles and you are not foreign to this rhythm of flicks.
“Do not deem me merciful yet, yawne,” he apprises with a nip of your skin. “You wish for my attention? I will grant it. But remember—”
A deep chuckle rumbles against your skin and the heat of his laugh has your stomach boiling with fire-licked butterflies. Your heart skitters, your inhales hitch before they slip out of your throat, as his lips find their way to the shell of your feverish ear. You find yourself bated, waiting, on whatever is to come.
“You asked for all of my attention. So now, you must take it.”
And if there is one thing you know about Tsu’tey, it is that he is attentive. And that is what you are banking on as he carries you further into the forest.
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fictional-heartbreak · 7 months ago
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When I go read a fanfic, but then see it was last updated over two years ago
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fictional-heartbreak · 8 months ago
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Hot Eve (m)
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synopsis. getting fucked raw by your ex boyfriend stuck in an elevator on Christmas Eve.
warnings. 18+, Ă«xplïçït sĂȘx, ĂŒnprĂŽtëçtĂ«d sĂȘx, nĂžnçÞn sĂȘx, stĂ€lkĂ«r Ă«x böÿfrĂŻĂ«nd jk, yn ĂŻs kĂŻndĂ€ mĂžrĂ€lĂŻtĂż cĂžrrĂčpt yn, Ă«lĂ«vĂ„tĂžr sĂȘx, yĂąndĂ«rĂ« thĂ«mĂ«s, dĂ€rk smĂŒt.
note. LAST WORK FOR 2024!!!!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO MY CHRISTIAN FOLLOWERS! đŸŽ„â€ïžâ€ïžâ€đŸ”„. this year was hard as fuck. I’m not okay but let’s hope I’ll be so much happier starting from next year. enjoy this!!!! share feedback! gif credits to owner, found it on Pinterest.
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December, 25th. It’s Christmas.
It’s the favorite time of the year for you, you love it, the cold, the sweetness of the blessings of Christmas. The streets are lit up. Merry atmosphere everywhere.
But all you feel is dread.
he’s near..
Your legs are on fire, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as you sprint down the hallway.
The sound of his boots echoes behind you, heavy and deliberate. He's not running. He doesn't need to.
The elevator is so close-just a few more steps.
You slam your hand against the button, frantic, fingers trembling. The soft ding of the arriving elevator is barely audible over the roar of blood in your ears.
Don't look back. Don't look back.
But you do.
Jungkook is there, closing the distance with that infuriating, unhurried stride, his lips curled into a smirk like he's already won.
His black shirt clings to his muscular chest, and his eyes gleam with something feral, like a predator toying with its prey.
The elevator doors glide open, and you dart inside, stabbing the close door button over and over again. You're muttering under your breath, desperate, “Close, close, please just fucking close-“”
The doors start to slide shut, and relief washes over you. But then you see it-his hand. Thick, veined, and steady as it wedges between the closing doors.
The elevator jerks back open, and your stomach twists into a sick knot of dread.
Jungkook steps inside, slow and casual, like he's got all the time in the world.
There's something deliciously pathetic about the way you shrink back against the wall, like you honestly thought you could get away from him.
It's adorable. Pathetic, but adorable.
He lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, drinking in the sight of you.
Your chest is heaving, your cheeks flushed, and those pretty, wide eyes are staring up at him like you're terrified.
Good.
He steps forward, his boots heavy against the floor, until there's no space left between you and the cold metal wall.
“Really?”
You are so fucking dumb, but so cute.
He drawls, tilting his head as his lips curl into a lazy, mocking smirk. “The elevator? That's the best you could do?”
His voice drops, low and biting. “What were you gonna do, huh Ride it to safety? Maybe hide in your little fucking apartment and pretend I don't exist?"
He chuckles darkly, his tongue sliding over his teeth. “Cute. Stupid as fuck, but cute.”
Your throat is dry, and your legs feel like they're about to give out. He's so close now, the sharp scent of his cologne invading every breath you take, mixing with the heat radiating off his body.
“Jungkook, I'm serious. You need to leave,” you manage to say, though your voice comes out small and shaky, utterly unconvincing.
He laughs at you. A sharp, humorless sound that makes your stomach churn.
“Serious?" he repeats, arching a brow as if the word itself is a joke. “You're fucking hilarious, you know that? Acting all big and bad when you're shaking like a goddamn leaf.”
His hand slams against the wall beside your head, and you flinch hard. He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “Tell me to leave again. Go ahead.”
You will never
 because you can’t.
“Let's see what happens.”
You're trembling, looking at him with those big, frightened eyes, and it's making his cock ache.
He hates how much he loves this— loves the way you run, the way you fight, like it's anything more than a game to him.
He tilts his head, dragging his gaze over you slowly, deliberately, like he's savoring every inch. You're perfect.
So fucking perfect when you're like this.
“Look at you,” he says, his voice low and sharp.
“Standing there all scared and pretty, like you don't know exactly how this ends.”
“You like this shit, don't you?” His hand trails down your side, possessive and unapologetic, and he smirks when you squirm. “Running away. Making me fucking chase you. You get off on it.”
Yes you do.
You try to push him away, your hands pressing weakly against his chest, but it's useless. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head in one fluid motion, grinning when you gasp.
“Stop fucking pretending,” he growls, his eyes darkening as they lock with yours. “We both know you like it when I get like this. You fucking love it.”
You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the words stick in your throat. You hate how strong he is, how easily he can overpower you.
But what you hate more-what terrifies you- is that some part of you does like it.
God, he’s so hot..
“Let me go,” you whisper, though it sounds more like a plea than a command.
His grip on your wrists tightens, and he leans in closer, his breath hot against your lips. "
“Let you go?” he repeats, his voice mocking. “That's cute, baby. Real fucking cute.”
His free hand slides down to your waist, gripping hard enough to make you wince.
“Let's get one thing straight,” he murmurs, his tone dropping to something dark and dangerous. “You're mine. Every fucking inch of you. And I'm not letting you go anywhere.”
He's hard as a rock, the sight of you pinned against the wall, helpless and trembling, driving him wild.
His gaze drops to your lips, parted and soft, and it takes everything in him not to devour you right then and there.
“You can run all you want,” Jungkook says, his voice thick with lust and something darker.
“But you'll never fucking get away from me. Never.”
His fingers dig into your waist, his body pressing against yours, caging you completely. He wants to mark you, to ruin you, to make sure you never even think about leaving him again.
Your entire body feels trapped in a vice, his presence suffocating, overwhelming. You hate how he's looking at you-hungry, like he wants
to devour you whole, like he owns you. And maybe he does.
The words stick in your throat, caught somewhere between fear and something darker, something shameful

Your cunt feels so damp.
You twist your wrists against his grip, but doesn't even flinch.
it's effortless.
“Jungkook,” you breathe, your voice shaky and thin. “This isn't-“
“This isn't what?” he snaps, cutting you off. His voice is low, rough, teetering between anger and lust. “What you wanted? What you've been fucking asking for this whole time?”
His fingers dig into your waist, and you feel the heat of his body press harder against yours. You can't look at him, can't handle the intensity of his eyes burning into you.
“Look at me,” he demands, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch.
You shake your head, keeping your gaze fixed on the wall behind him.
“I said look at me.”
He releases one of your wrists only to grip your chin, forcing your face up until you're staring into those dark, furious eyes.
His pupils are blown wide, and the muscle in his jaw ticks with restraint.
“See this?” he growls, his tone dripping with venom as his free hand grabs your thigh, hitching it against his hip,
“This is what happens when you try to run from me. When you act like you don't fucking belong to me.”
You're trembling under his touch, and it sends a sick, addictive thrill straight through him. He can feel the way your body betrays you, the way your breaths come quicker, the way your thighs press together even though you're still pretending to fight.
“Fucking liar,” he mutters, his lips curling into a sneer. "You say you want me to leave, but you don't mean it. You never fucking mean it.”
Jungkook knows you..
He drags his hand along your thigh, gripping it hard enough to leave marks, his body pressing closer, caging you completely.
You're his, every inch of you, and it pisses him off that you even thought you could get away.
“You think I'm stupid?” he spits, leaning in until his mouth hovers over yours. “You think I don't see the way you look at me yn?”
He mocks, licking his lips, his tongue teasing you.
“Fuck baby
 you’re making my cock ache.” He groans, biting his lower lip, his hand leaves your thigh to settle on his own zipper.
Your eyes wide because you know what he’s about to do and you want to stop him, but no words come out of your mouth because your brain has stopped working.
All you can think, feel.. and smell is him.
“Fuck yn
 I’ve been warning you for the longest time.. you have no idea how horny I am right now
” the way his eyes are clouded with lust tells you everything you need to know.
He looks like a feral animal.
He unzips his pants, letting it fall down and then he presses a button on the elevator, making it come to a halt. You shudder in fear.
“J-Jungkook..” you manage to slip out his name from your mouth, but before you can say anything else, he crashes his mouth to yours.
His tongue forces itself into your mouth as he uses his other hand to usher his boxers off. You whine in his mouth, trying to stop him but—
God, his tongue feels so hot.
Your pussy clenches as you both kiss. He’s not just kissing but he’s devouring you, his free hand cages you in, making sure you can’t escape.
His hard free dick is pressing against your stomach, his other hand hurriedly goes to your skirt, unzipping it he catches the hem of your underwear, he yanks it down, as his tongue completely dominates your mouth.
You moan helplessly.
But he doesn’t let you break the kiss,, you’re already soaking wet.
His teeth nip at your bottom lip as his tongues go to assault your mouth. Then without a warning he shoves his cock inside your wet right cunt.
A guttural moan escapes his throat as he growls into your mouth like a wounded animal.
He’s finally getting to fuck you after so long.
And your knees go weak, like jelly. It’s too late now.
He starts to pound into you hard and fast, your back slamming continuously against the elevator wall, he pulls you up by your hips and wraps your legs around his waist.
After finally breaking the kiss, his thrusts only her more brutal, you scream in ecstasy and pain, burying your face in his neck as you grip on his shoulders tighten.
“Fu-Fuck yn you’re going to make me fucking cum.”
Again, his hungry mouth finds yours, devouring with desperate kisses as he moves his hips, fast.
“O-Oh J-Jungkook
”
‱‱‱
Hours go by. You’re fucked out- he’s sweating, you’re actually paralyzed but he’s not stopping, uoure still stuck in the elevator, thank fully the fan of the machine is keeping you alive but the elevator reeks of sex.
What have you done? Getting fucked by your psychotic ex on Christmas Eve.
And he’s about to cum inside your cunt raw.
And you are going to do nothing about it. Like always.
“Merry fucking Christmas my love.”
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fictional-heartbreak · 8 months ago
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Sweet Jungwon smut head cannons <3
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Warnings: smut, language (“slut”), oral (m and f receiving), sweet Jungwon🎀
MINORS DNI !!
I’ve never read any Jungwon smuts that were accurate in my eyes, so here’s some Jungwon sex head cannons :)
-everyone views him as being rough in bed, but I don’t think he’d be super dominant in a harsh way
-I feel like it’s more of he gets so passionate and needy that he takes control
-for example: he’d have a long day at work and be missing his lovely y/n, only to get home and be so needy for your touch that he ends up laying you out on the bed buried deep inside of you, quickly rutting his hips into yours as he pinned you down and whimpered sweet nothings in your ear.
-I also feel like he’s the type to have experience, but he’s still shy with you at first.
-he’d be all shy with you for your first time together-kissing you softly as if you might break, or letting you guide his hands, only to flip the reigns and show you just how much he really needs you.
-I feel like Jungwon’s really a wild card; sometimes he’d be blatantly bold, letting you know from the start that he had no intentions of being gentle (aftercare is always the sweetest). Or he’d feel like he was back in school crushing on you like crazy despite literally being your boyfriend, and he’d be like putty in your hands.
-Jungwon’s the type to want to look at your beautiful face during, so he’d be a huge fan of missionary, folding your legs up to reach deeper into you while admiring how beautiful you look while he’d making you feel so good.
-I feel like he’d almost never degrade you, maybe occasionally calling you “my beautiful slut” but nothing too harsh. He’s more into praising, telling you how good you’re taking him, or how good you make him feel. I feel like his favorite praise for you would be “my pretty baby” , or “my pretty flower”.
-when it comes to oral, it’s not his go to for receiving but he’s open to it. He’d be so into eating you out, relishing in your soft moans for only him, pupils blown out as he dipped his tongue in and out of you. On the other hand, when receiving he’s turn into a mess. He’d be whimpering and whining above you as you teasingly swirled your tongue around his swollen tip.
-Jungwon would be iffy when it comes to quickies. He’d like to take his time with you, but sometimes if you or he needs the other too much to wait and your on a time limit, he wouldn’t hesitate to drop to his knees to service you, or quickly fuck you full of him before you had to go.
-I don’t feel like he’d be into sex in public places. He doesn’t feel comfortable with the thought of someone else seeing you bare or others possibly watching or listening.
-aftercare with him is IMPORTANT !!! He always make sure you’re okay and drink enough water, making sure to grab a snack afterwards, but he needs to be taken care of just as much as you. Afterwards, the two of you might take a nice bath together, or lay in bed for a bit praising each other while holding each other close.
That’s all for now lovelies!! If y ou have any suggestions leave a comment or message me!
Bye for now🎀
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fictional-heartbreak · 9 months ago
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Song Mingi collaboration with Calvin Klein
Song mingi the man that you are😼‍💹
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fictional-heartbreak · 9 months ago
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Stray Kids [Christmas Love] MV teaser
The video was just posted on yt, and they’re so cute !!
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fictional-heartbreak · 9 months ago
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My ult groups that I’ll write for (in no specific order):
ATEEZ
BTS
P1harmomy
Be:First (j-pop)
Enhypen
XG
Black Pink
Stray Kids
Tomorrow x Together
Kard
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fictional-heartbreak · 9 months ago
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Here’s a list of some prompts/oneshots/imagines I plan on writing:
Your first kiss/who kissed who first
You having a nightmare
When your on your period
You getting hurt
You being sick
You buying slather something they wanted
A fan being rude to you
Someone asking them about you on a live
You falling asleep on them
Them getting jealous
On your first date
Them accidentally standing you up
Having a fight with you :/
You flinching during an argument
You ignoring them
You smelling like another man
You having another members plush on your bag
You being a bad cook
Texting them you need a sugar daddy
Them as love tropes
I feel that should be enough for now!
If you have any suggestions just let me know and I’ll add them !
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