jjoongstar

[jjoongstar]

my page is so dusty💀 sorry yall for being mia for like almost 3 months, im barely alive here.

anywaysss, im gonna take some time to read all those fics i’ve been tagged in, from my lovely moots, fav authors.

inbox and dms are always open, but i cant take any requests rn, (the ones in the inbox are still there collecting dust, sorry)🫰🏻

[jjoongstar]

#OurRadiantYunhoDay (990323) Happy Birthday to the most precious human being ever ❤️

[jjoongstar]

HE IS EVERYTHING!!!

[jjoongstar]

distracted

bad students must face the consequences of their behaviour. it doesn’t matter who your boyfriend is.

words: 2.9k

part of my february festival event

join my taglist

warnings: dom!professors matz x sub!student reader, teacher-student relationship (hongjoong x you), power dynamics, threesome, punishment, spanking with ruler, very light anal play, face fucking, double penetration (mouth & pussy), under-negotiated kink, unprotected sex, sir kink, degradation, light dumbification etc

i am not responsible for the content you consume.

“What is this?”

He waves the sheet in front of your face indignantly and you recognise it instantly as the test you’d taken last week; the red D scrawled in the top corner gives you away and you huff. “How did you even—”

“Seonghwa,” he says, cutting you off. You’d roll your eyes if you thought you’d get away with it right now.

You knew it was a bad idea, really, dating Hongjoong; he may not have been your professor, but he is a professor, so you should’ve figured he’d be in cahoots with your teachers. It’s not like discretion was a massive concern, anyway; your relationship is an open secret among the staff. It’s technically not allowed, but you’re a grad student, an independent adult and your parents donate enough money to the school that neither of you would be in too much trouble if anyone did find out anyway. So you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that, when you turned in a piss-poor exam, Seonghwa had run off tattling to your boyfriend. Dickhead.

“I was just having a bad day,” you say. “I studied, really. I don't know what happened.”

Neither of you believe that, but you push your lips into a pout and do your best to look contrite—to play the sweet, innocent girl your boyfriend loves to ruin.

“Joong…” You try to sound scared but you both know you’re not; there’s nothing he could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, after all. You’re just as sick as each other.

Hongjoong chuckles, clicking his tongue. He looks thoughtful for a moment, like he’s pretending to be conflicted over whether to punish you or not, but he’s not very good at hiding his excitement. The regretful sigh he lets out when he makes his decision is laughably disingenuous. “Bad girl,” he says, shaking his head. “You know I can’t let you get away with this, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to respond but he doesn’t give you time; he shoves you down harshly, bending you over his desk so your ass is sticking up in the air. It’s a familiar position that you’ve found yourself in time and time again since you met him and you body prepares itself automatically; expecting him to spank you, you stick your ass up higher and wait with bated breath for the first blow. It doesn’t come. You crane your head around, confused. “Joong, what—” Oh.

You don’t need to finish the question; standing behind you, next to Hongjoong, is the very man who’d got you in this predicament in the first place— your medieval history professor, Park Seonghwa himself. He tilts his head, smiling sweetly. “Good afternoon.”

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t expected this—when did he even come in, anyway? “Joong—”

“You think we didn’t notice how you look at him?” Your boyfriend asks coolly. It’s only because of the cock in his hand, hard and already leaking, that you’re not worried he’s mad at you; no, he loves this. You should’ve known.

“Is that why you failed?” Seonghwa asks. “Too busy dreaming about me bending you over your desk? You have a boyfriend; an esteemed colleague of mine, in fact.” His tone is chiding and you feel yourself flush.

Hongjoong snorts almost petulantly. “As if she cares about that.”

“No?” Seonghwa asks. “What does she care about, then?”

“Pull her panties down and find out.”

Your cunt throbs painfully at the surety of the demand and the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes as he obliges without hesitation. He doesn’t ask permission before he touches you—he already has it from the one who matters, after all—but when he pushes your skirt up your back, his hands still momentarily; you smile into the wood as you realise what they’re both looking at—the white, lacy panties sitting snugly across your pert cheeks.

“Well, isn’t that a sight.” Seonghwa’s voice is hoarse and affected as he rubs a hand across the delicate material. You feel yourself tense under his touch, the unfamiliar feeling of his skin on yours, and he gently pinches the soft flesh. “Relax,” he mumbles. “Be good, yeah? I won’t hurt you, I’ll be gentle.”

A sweet sounding lie; you can tell from the heaviness of his hand as it comes to rest on your ass that he has no such intentions. He fingers softly at the lace of your panties, sighing ruefully. “These really are beautiful,” he muses. “I hate to have to take them down like this, but bad students have to learn, don’t they?”

“They certainly do.” You crane your neck to follow your boyfriend’s voice and find him leaning against the wall behind Seonghwa, staring you down with familiarly cold eyes. He cocks an eyebrow when you finally catch his gaze. “Got something to say, precious?”

“No, sir,” you whisper.

“Turn around, then,” he smiles. “I’m just here to watch.”

You turn back, though more so he doesn’t see you roll your eyes than out of a desire to obey him. Seonghwa has carefully shimmied your panties down to the middle of your thighs and the cold air of the office bites at your sensitive pussy.

“Spread your legs,” he says. “Show me how wet you are.“

Blushing furiously, you part your legs, spreading them as far as you can without snapping the panties bunched around your thighs. Seonghwa hums, running a long finger through your wet folds. The touch is unexpected but Hongjoong’s trained you well enough that you manage to stay still despite your surprise. You whine a little when he pulls away and you hear both men chuckle.

“Professor Kim,” Seonghwa says. His voice has a new quality; delicate and flirtatious as he addresses your boyfriend. “Come and taste how wet she is.”

You hear Hongjoong approach the elder and try to move around to see it, but Seonghwa’s firm hand on your neck holds you still. “I don’t think so, bad girl,” he tuts. “Only good little girls get to watch. Keep still.”

“Good call,” Hongjoong purrs. “She’s always loved seeing me with other people. Little pervert would probably start humping the table if she saw me doing this.”

You hear the wet, lewd sounds of Hongjoong sucking at Seonghwa’s finger, lapping up your juices with a noise of pleasure. “Delicious little slut,” he chuckles. “Let’s get her properly disciplined so we can play with her how she wants.”

Somehow you hear the wide grin in Seonghwa’s voice as Hongjoong backs away. “I quite agree.”

His hands rests on your ass again, squeezing it softly. “This is what’s gonna happen, little one. You got a 48 on my exam, didn’t you?”

You’re almost embarrassed to hear the number and you know Hongjoong is too. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, Professor will do,” he says. “You’re not my friend, sweetheart. You’re just a wayward student being put back on the right path.”

Shame courses through you but it would be a lie to say it’s anything but thrilling. “Yes, professor,” you whisper.

He taps your ass appreciatively. “Good girl. So, you got a 48 on my exam. What was the pass mark?”

“60, Professor,” you mumble.

“Now that’s not very hard to achieve, is it Professor Kim?”

“It’s not. The pass marks in my class are higher, in fact.”

You want to roll your eyes at their smug, jovial tones but you’re too aroused now to do anything but anticipate.

“A pathetic score, really.” Seonghwa’s voice is closer than ever and you feel his presence just inches away. “Especially for such a bright young woman. I think you need to learn to separate your head—” he gathers a piece of your hair, gently folding it behind your ear “—and your pussy, hm?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good.“ Something long and thin taps at your bare skin and you recognise it instantly—the wooden ruler Hongjoong keeps in his desk drawer for when he’s feeling particularly on-the-nose about the taboo nature of your relationship.

“I’m going to hit you with this twelve times,” Seonghwa purrs. “For each of the marks you easily could have gotten if you hadn’t been too busy imagining my cock in your mouth. Yeah?”

You nod, feeling yourself pulse. “Yes, Professor.”

“Repeat after me, alright?” The first hit is quick and sharp, spread over your ass and it makes you gasp. Seonghwa chuckles and rubs the reddening flesh before he grabs your hair, yanking your head back to whisper in your ear. “One,” he says. “I’m sorry for being such a slut, Professor.”

You repeat it quietly and he tuts. “Louder than that, love. I’m sure your boyfriend wants to know you’re learning your lesson.”

You oblige, repeating it louder and he makes a noise of satisfaction before the ruler comes down again, this time at the tops of your thighs. “Two,” he says. ��I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

“Two, I’m… I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

The next hit lands in the same spot. “Three. I’m sorry for dripping over Professor Kim’s desk just from being spanked.”

You blush in embarrassment; you’d half hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that was a tall order anyway. When it comes to Hongjoong and anything to do with him, you’ve never been subtle.

The next hits follow the same pattern, spread across your ass and thighs with each one making you gasp louder than the last.

“Four. I’m sorry for making Professor Park waste his time disciplining me.”

“Five. I’m sorry for daydreaming about choking on another man’s cock.”

“Six. I’m sorry for being arrogant enough to think I’d get away with such an embarrassing performance.”

The last one hits you right on your dripping pussy, making you scream and he grabs your hair, spinning you around to face him and your boyfriend; your eyes hone in on Hongjoong’s cock, pulsing in his hands before Seonghwa forces your attention back to him. “Twelve,” he growls. “I’m sorry for being such a cockwhore that I’m making Professor Park break his rule about sleeping with students.”

You can’t help but grin as you repeat his words, feeling proud. Of course, you knew from the moment you turned around and saw him standing there what was going to happen, but it’s nice to hear it from him. He smiles, grasping your neck gently. “Did you like that?” He asks. “Getting spanked by your professor while your boyfriend jerks off to it?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I liked it.”

“Well, now that you’ve learnt your lesson,” he says, “I think it’s time you got fucked, no?”

You nod and turn to your boyfriend; he tilts his head, nodding towards his hard cock. “You know what to do,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” You sink to your knees, staring up at Seonghwa and sending him a teasing smile before crawling towards Hongjoong. You open your mouth, letting him push his dick inside; after all this time together, he doesn’t need to ease you into it anymore and can go straight to fucking your mouth and you take it diligently, opening your throat the way he’s trained you to. You hear Seonghwa whistle, admiring.

“She sucks cock like a fucking pro,” he laughs; the arousal in his voice is thick and unmistakable. “You’ve trained her well, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong laughs too, patting your head. “I had an excellent student,” he grins. You smile around him at the praise and he curses. “You’re too good at this, babe, Jesus. Gonna cum before I even fuck you.”

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before pulling out abruptly, shoving you off of him and in an instant Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as he pulls you to your feet and shoves you back over the desk. You collide painfully with the wood but you barely notice; you’re used to being manhandled by now, and it only makes you more excited.

Large hands you recognise as Seonghwa’s grab your ass cheeks, pulling them apart slowly; the air hits your exposed holes and makes you jump in surprise but you quickly regain your composure. As you still yourself again you feel Hongjoong’s finger running gently across your asshole, almost like he’s inspecting it, before it slides down to toy with your pussy.

“Hm…” Seonghwa’s voice is teasing. “What’s your favourite hole of hers, Professor Kim?”

“What a question,” Hongjoong chuckles and you hear the smile in his voice. His finger prods gently at your rim, making you tense unconsciously and he tuts, lightly slapping the tight little hole. It’s a subtle, painless chastisement but it makes you whine all the same. “Now, now, kitty cat,” he chuckles. “I didn’t train you to squirm, did I?”

“No, sir,” you mumble.

“Good,” he says. “To answer your question, Hwa, I’d have to say her pussy. I love her ass, of course, but nothing compares to the way that little cunt clings to my dick like it’s just begging for a baby.”

“Well that does sound nice.” Seonghwa’s hands leave your ass, returning to your pussy to spread you open. “It looks snug,” he says. “What do you think, little one? Want your professor to breed you?”

It takes you a moment for your brain to catch up with the rest of you and you frown in confusion. “I- you mean you, Professor Park?” You ask. It comes out as more of a strangled cry; your head is a mess of arousal and you barely even register what he’s saying to you, let alone comprehend it fully.

He laughs, patting your soft skin gently. “Yes, perhaps I should be more clear. It must be confusing to be bending over in front of two of your teachers.”

Your face burns at the obvious mockery; the degrading, sneering tone of his voice but you say nothing. Seonghwa hums. “So?” He asks sweetly. “You want me in your cunt, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Professor.”

“There’s those manners,” he praises.

He keeps a firm grip on your hips as he slides in from behind; the feeling of his skin against your still burning ass is uncomfortable, but the way his cock is stretching you as he buries himself inside you is the only thing your brain can process right now.

He’s just as big as Hongjoong, maybe a little bigger, but his thrusts are more fluid and controlled; where Hongjoong fucks you like an animal hungry for more, Seonghwa fucks you with precision; with intention. His hands on your hips are firm yet gentle and the way he finds you in your deepest places has your head spinning with euphoria. “Jesus,” he curses. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth to respond, barely getting a whine out before you feel hands in your hair, yanking at it to pull you forward. Hongjoong comes into view on the other side of the desk, his dick somehow still hard as he feeds it into your mouth. “There you go,” he coos. “Keep it hard, baby.”

You nod as best as you can and the friction against his dick makes your boyfriend groan. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking good with cock you could make me cum on accident.”

The feeling of two dicks inside you makes it hard to focus on either one; let alone to begin to process the filthy words they spit down at you. Intesd you close your eyes, letting the tears fall as Hongjoong starts to fuck your throat again; you’re limp against the desk now, held up solely by the wood and by the two men using you to satisfy themselves. “Oh shit,” Hongjoong says, seeing your dazed expression. “Baby’s gone dumb already.” He strokes your hair gently, a small comfort between punishing thrusts. “You okay, little dove?”

You groan in response, unable to do much else; it makes them laugh and Seonghwa pats your ass affectionately. “You’re doing so well,” he says. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up real nice, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you gasp.

The feeling of Seonghwa’s thrusts growing faster and harder and more desperate is overwhelming; coupled with the sensation of Hongjoong’s cock hitting the back of your throat again and again, it’s almost unbearable. Your fingers claw against the wood, surely leaving marks but you don’t care; you feel unlike you ever have before, stuffed full and used by two of the most attractive men you’ve ever even imagined.

You’re in so deep that you don’t even realise it’s over until the emptiness of your mouth and cunt becomes obvious; you feel cum leaking from your hole, a wet substance dripping down the desk and only when you look closer do you figure out what it is—squirt. You squirted. You squirted all over your boyfriend’s desk with another man’s cock in your pussy and you’ve never been more fucked out and satisfied than you are now.

When you stand up fully your legs, numbed and weakened by their abuse, start to give out but Hongjoong is there in an instant; he catches you in his arms, lowering himself to the ground so he can cradle you in his lap. You’re faintly aware of Seonghwa’s voice and strong hands stroking your hair before he’s gone, and it’s just you and Hongjoong.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “You took that so well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I only hope your performance in Professor Park’s class improves soon. Otherwise he’ll have to tutor you if you want to keep your spot in his class.”

Your heart jumps. “What?”

“Uni rules,” he shrugs, appearing nonchalant but the knowing smile on his face tells all. “If you fail two exams in a row, that’s what happens.”

You don’t know why he seems so surprised when you turn up in his office a month later with a D-minus and an already leaking pussy. He always knew you were insatiable.

Lucky for you, so are they.

—

comments/reblogs appreciated! i’m not sure im super happy with the ending but we move. let me know your thoughts! love🖤🖤🖤

ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta (unable to tag: @lemonkait00 @mylovelymito)

february festival taglist: @hohongsan @nopension

[jjoongstar]

i… am speechless. now what even is this im so wet like i found another side of me that i nvr knew, damn. THIS IS SO AMAZING LIKE ITS SO FUCKED UP LIKE HELL YEAH IM SO INTO THIS SHI! HWA WAS SO HOT IN HERE LIKE MAN, THIS IS SO ATTRACTIVE FOR WHAT!? i fear you slayed this too much, you deserve an award, istg this made me go insane. i so cant be normal after this. oh good heavens…😞

no way out (p.sh)

pairing: hostage!reader x maifa boss!seonghwa

preview: seonghwa loves to collect pretty things. when he saw you, he knew he needed to add you to his collection.

tags/warnings: fem reader, (leather) gloved fingering, pussy slapping, begging, gun + knife play, edging, overstimulation, s&m, dacryphilia, degrading, praise, pet names (doll, princess, baby, angel), hair pulling, possessiveness, marking, choking, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: kidnapping, kinda noncon, beginning stages of stockholm syndrome, guns and knives ofc

wc: 2.7k

song recs for this fic: criminal by britney spears

a/n: please read the tags and triggers very carefully!!!

seonghwa sat comfortably in his black mercedes benz, watching the people around him. his dark tinted windows gave no one any awareness of his presence. many people gawked at his car, amazed to see something so expensive on this side of the city. “anything catching your eye, boss?” his driver asked, breaking the thick silence. seonghwa shakes his head, staring into the rearview mirror. “no, but we’ll give it another couple of minutes.” he returned his eyesight to scan the crowd.

the leather seats of his car were comfortable enough to give him the relaxation he needed while scoping out the crowds of people. spending so much time indoors had caused him to forget just how many people live in seoul. he leaned back against the headrest, wishing that endeavours like these didn’t take so long. he crosses his arms, his leather gloved hands resting on his biceps.

he spotted plenty of objectively attractive people, some he might’ve dared to test on any other occasion. but he knew what he wanted. finally, through the crowd, he spots you. you glow within the crowd like the sun in the sky. “there.” the man in the passenger seat is quick to jump out, standing in your way. you trip over yourself a bit, startled by the sudden presence in front of you. “sorry ma’am, do you have a minute?” he asks, your eyebrows furrowing. seonghwa climbs out of the car and appears behind his bodyguard. “no, i don’t,” you respond, quick to dodge both men, staring down at your phone. seonghwa watches you speed walk away, crossing his arms over his chest. your thoughtless resistance attracted a dark part of him. “that’s the one. follow her.” 

both men are quick to pile back into the expensive car and follow your direction. they trail behind you, watching you as you walk into your apartment building. they sit in the parking lot for longer than most people would consider appropriate. seonghwa checks his watch. he has a meeting soon, he cannot sit here for much longer. “contact hongjoong and have him send some men here to get her for me.” his order is stern and his driver nods. slowly, they pull away from the parking lot and drive back to the mansion where the mafia resides.

_______________________________________________

a few days later, seonghwa is greeted by a knock on his office door. the doors open to reveal two lower members of the family, wooyoung and san. “what can i do for you, gentlemen?” he asks, tapping on the papers on his desk to indicate that he’s busy. the two men stand in front of him timidly, keeping their heads lowered. “she’s here,” san says. seonghwa’s eyebrow raises, his tapping coming to an almost immediate halt. he rises from his chair, the two bodyguards in the room immediately tense up. “where is she?” wooyoung visibly gulps, adjusting on his feet. “the safe house, as you requested. she was very combative. yeosang is with the doctor right now, dealing with the scratches she gave him.” seonghwa chuckles, imagining the image of a girl your size doing damage to a man built like yeosang. 

seonghwa nods, waving the two men off. they’re quick to scurry away from the intimidating leader. he digs around in his drawer, pulling out his pistol. he’s quick to shove it into his gun holster before moving his coat back to cover it. he adjusts the holster on his other thigh, housing an intimidating looking knife. “let’s go.” seonghwa is quick to strut out of the room, heading directly for his car. he climbs into the backseat, his guards moving swiftly so as to not anger him. sitting in the backseat, he finds himself filled with an unusual sense of nervousness and excitement. 

the usual procedure for entering the safe house would require seonghwa to enter with the protection of his bodyguards. something was gnawing at him and telling him to go in alone. “stay in the car. if i don’t come back out in 10 minutes, you may leave.” with that, he climbs out of the car. he punches in the short number code, listening to it beep quietly to signal the locking mechanism letting him in. he pushes the door open and the air is thick with tension. he doesn’t know where they put you or if you’re even restrained. however, based on the damage to yeosang, he figures it’s probably a safe bet that you are restrained. 

the door clicks behind him and he decides to kick off his combat boots. it doesn’t take much effort to find you considering your constant, slightly muffled screams for someone to help you. seonghwa finds you restrained on a dining room chair, your hands tied behind you and your ankles tied to the legs of the chair. you flinch when he finally enters your line of sight. you’re gagged with what looks like a cloth or a bandana. your eyes widen with a look of familiarity. 

seonghwa leans against the wall, tilting his head to the side. “hi, angel. remember me?” you turn your head away, avoiding his domineering gaze. a rush of frustration fills his veins, running his tongue over his teeth. he walks into your line of sight again, this time he flashes his gun at you. “you wanna try that again? remember me?” your eyes widen and you nod vigorously. a smile spreads over his face as he re-conceals his weapon.  

“do you know why you’re here?” he asks, leaning against the wall as if he had all the time in the world. you shake your head, desperately trying not to drool around your makeshift gag. seonghwa clicks his tongue, as if he’s disappointed in your cluelessness. “you’re here because you disrespected me. bad girls don’t get to just walk away from people like me.” he stares at you through his eyebrows, his anger showing in his face. you can’t help the adrenaline rush you get that prompts you to start struggling against your restraints. 

seonghwa is quick to close the space between you, grabbing you by the chin and staring into your eyes. “stop fucking struggling.” your body freezes like a deer in headlights, all of your movements stopping just as soon as they started. “do you even know who i am?” the empty look in your eyes gives him the answer he needs. it shocks him a little. someone who doesn’t know the most infamous person in the entire country. “have you ever heard of park seonghwa?” a strange glint passes over your eyes before you nod. he smirks before gesturing to himself. “you’re looking at him.” he pauses. “ honestly, you should be flattered that you’re here. i don’t pick just anyone to test like this.” 

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “mmf- test?” you do your best to speak around your mouth covering and seonghwa chuckles before re-composing himself. “well, i have to see if i can break you. did you really think a pretty girl like you was going to get abducted like this and not get fucked?” a new rush of horror overcomes you and it lights a sinister flame within seonghwa. he can tell how anxious you are based on how the rhythm of your breathing immediately changes. he likes the way you react to his words. “oh princess, you’re in for a real treat.” 

everything in you is telling you to beg for your life. scream, cry and hope a hardened criminal like him has at least a little bit of empathy left in him. you know these efforts are futile, however. seonghwa sheds his coat and places it on the table next to you. his slim figure in his attractive suit have you wanting to drool. you stop yourself when your eyes meet his pistol once again. you gulp, watching as he adjusts his gloves. “i think it’s best i start your test now.” before you can react, he’s untying your legs and arms, forcing you to stand. you whine, your legs feeling numb from sitting for so long. he shoves you onto the couch in the living room. he watches you scramble away, not even moving to stop you. he knows there’s no escape.

“are you done?” he asks, his tone that of an exhausted father dealing with his bratty toddler. he crosses the room, throwing you over the armrest of the couch. he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them both down with one quick tug. “god, you’re fucking dripping. what a whore. you like this, don’t you?” you shake your head, kicking your feet as if to try and keep him away. “get off m-me!.” your speech is muffled from the gag.  he shoves your legs apart and slots himself between them. seonghwa lands a harsh slap to your ass, causing you to yelp. “i said, are you fucking done?” you twist to look him in the face and scowl. you pull your gag off your face before speaking. “fuck you.” 

seonghwa leans over you and presses your face into the couch with one hand, while he uses the other to shove two gloved fingers into your cunt. you cry out, your sound muffled by the cushion “whores don’t speak like that to their owners, do they?” his fingers move quickly inside you, thrusting in and out. the leather rubbing against your walls adds to the already euphoric feeling. you grip the couch cushion so hard your knuckles turn white. seonghwa shoves another finger into you, curling them to find your g-spot. he leans over you further to whisper in your ear, his fingers still working an orgasm out of you. he pulls your head up by your hair to get better access to your ear. “if i didn’t know any better, i would say this is turning you on. i can just feel the way you’re clenching.” 

finally, you manage to kick him in the knee, sending him stumbling back. you gasp for air, your lungs desperate for oxygen. you don’t even have time to reap the benefits of getting him off you before he returns. this time, you feel something cold press against the skin of your ass. you hear the click of seonghwa cocking his gun. your whole body tenses, sucking in a sharp breath of air. “yeah, i bet now you wanna fucking behave.” he slides the barrel of the gun over your slit, collecting your slick. “p-please, don’t.” he sighs and shoves your face back down into the couch. “don’t speak unless spoken to.” he shoves the gun into your hole, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine. you know better than to fight back now.

he slides it in and out slowly, cherishing the way you suck it in with ease. the fear coursing through your veins heightens the pleasure. your whining and squealing at every drag inside you. seonghwa groans at the sight of you at his complete disposal, his gun inside you keeping you obedient. your legs begin to shake as you near your high, a feeling you regret. “ple-ah please,” you mumble into the couch.

“please what, baby?” you cry silently into the cushion, your shoulders shaking. your body reacts against your will, your orgasm barreling towards you. “c-cumming.” seonghwa says nothing as your orgasm crashes into you, your body trembling uncontrollably. as you finish, seonghwa shoves his gun into as far as it will go, making sure you can feel him brush his finger over the trigger. “this is the one time i’m gonna be nice to you. next time you cum without permission, i’m pulling the trigger.” he pulls his pistol all the way out of you, licking the remnants of your release off the gun.

he moves away from you slightly to pull his pants and boxers down mid-thigh. “stop it, p-please. i don’t want this.” seonghwa shakes his head before shrugging. “i don’t care what you want.” he keeps you bent over the couch, watching as your nerves continue to twinge. your cunt is red and swollen from use, yet still visibly slick. he drags his tip over your folds, gathering your wetness. you claw at the couch to try and crawl away, but he’s quick to pull you back. “don’t forget who has the gun, princess. one quick movement and you could be dead on this couch. do you want that?” you shake your head, fear making you shiver.

“didn’t think so.” with that, he shoves into you. his tip jabs at your cervix, the sudden stretch having you gasping for air. seonghwa’s jaw falls slack, watching the way his cock disappear into you. he fans his hands over your ass, grabbing and squishing your plush flesh. a hard slap rings through the room and you whimper, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. 

seonghwa’s hips begin moving. he’s nicer to you than he expected you to be. that doesn’t last, however. his thrusts pick up speed when you start wiggling under him, your own body betraying you in its desperation for pleasure. “silly girl, can’t even resist her captor's cock. just admit how much you like it, baby.” you shake your head, breathing so hard it’s making you dizzy. your brain is turning to mush and you’re losing your ability to fight back. not that you really want to anymore. he’s making you feel so good, why would you want to run?

seonghwa manhandles you, flipping you over and moving you so your ass is hanging off the couch cushions. he slots himself back between your legs in one quick motion. he shoves in to the hilt, snapping his hips against yours so hard you might bruise. he wraps his arms around your waist to snap into you harder and your eyes roll back. the room fills with noisy skin slapping sounds and the wet noises leaving your core. “fuck, you feel so good. you clench so pretty around my cock, baby.” 

he pulls his knife out of its holster, dragging it over your skin without pressing down. “i’m claiming you as mine. you will never know another man’s touch.” he adjusts his grip on the knife, guiding it down to your hip. seonghwa presses the blade into your skin, dragging it to carve an ‘s’ into your flesh. the stinging pain sends a new course of pleasure through you, your core sucking him in harder. “i knew you were dirty, but not this dirty. you like that, doll? you like when the man who kidnapped you carves his initials into your body?” you nod, your body twitching. 

seonghwa traces a few more lines into your skin with his knife before putting it down on the table behind him. he gathers your blood on his fingers and brings them to his mouth. “c-cumming,” you sputter. before you can say anything else, his gun is pressed to your temple. he shakes his head at you, clicking his tongue. his incessant thrusts into you are not helping you fight off your orgasm. “what did i say?” tears spill from your eyes, your eyeliner running down your face. you breathe so hard it hurts your chest. 

“please, please, need to cum. can i cum?” you plead. you hiccup, your bottom lip quivering. he pouts at you, pressing the gun against your head harder. his hips stutter and it becomes obvious that he’s been fighting his own orgasm. “cum for me, princess.” your eyes roll back and your back arches against him, his face pressing into your chest. you clench and unclench, hearing him let out a low moan. “that’s it, baby. milk my fucking cock. it’s all yours. yeah, it’s yours.” 

finally, your body relaxes. you had anticipated feeling a new rush of fear once the pleasure left you. but, you found yourself seeking his comfort. he holds you gently, discarding his weapons. “you passed the test, doll. i broke your brain and now you’re mine. i’ll keep you safe.” swiftly, he puts his clothes back on properly. he lifts you, carrying you out of the house despite your obvious lack of clothing. san and wooyoung stand outside the door patiently, waiting for instruction. “clean the house, make it spotless. also, i need one of you to grab my gun and my knife. i don’t wanna re-scare my baby right now.”

with that, you’re carried into the very car that had followed you just a few days ago. except this time, seonghwa got what he wanted. 

© lomlhwa 2025

[jjoongstar]

250203 Seonghwa (Amsterdam ATEEZ WORLD TOUR TOWARDS THE LIGHT : WILL TO POWER), cr. 43_vy

[jjoongstar]

actually speechless

[jjoongstar]

HES SO SHSOSNDISKSB I NEED HIM

[jjoongstar]

the difference in matz 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

joong is hips out and hwa is chest out..... the implications are making me dizzy

[jjoongstar]

TO YOUR ROOM, PARK SEONGHWA. NO LEGO FOR YOU.

CREDIT TO WHOEVER THE HELL CAPTURED THIS. MAY YOU ALWAYS PULL YOUR BIAS FOREVER AND EVER AMEN.

[jjoongstar]

NOW HOLD ON A FUCKING SECOND FOLKS ARE YALL SEEING THEM THANGS TOO???????

[jjoongstar]

၄၃ my ateez ၄၃

[jjoongstar]

best kind of Hongjoong pics

[jjoongstar]

where you cover your face shyly with your hands when you are getting fucked. only for hongjoong to grab said hands and pin them to the bed so you can't hide.

the moment hongjoong caught the sight of your hands flying up to your face, his jaw tightened, and his pace faltered for a split second. you were beneath him, flushed and trembling, trying to hide the soft, breathy moans spilling out of you and the way your eyes rolled back every time he thrust deeper.

"nah," he muttered, voice low and rough, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the mattress above your head. "don’t hide from me."

your lips parted in a stifled whimper as his grip tightened, his hips snapping forward hard enough to knock the breath out of you. the drag of his cock against your walls was maddening, every inch making you squirm under his hold.

"look at me," he demanded, his tone sharp but laced with something dark, hungry. his eyes burned into yours as he pressed his forehead against yours, his body never losing its relentless rhythm. "lemme see you. wanna watch every little expression you make when i’m fucking you this good."

you bit your lip, your face turning away, but his grip on your wrists didn’t let up. if anything, it got stronger. "don’t do that," he growled, nipping at the corner of your mouth before biting down on your jaw. "don’t act shy when i know how bad you want this. how bad you want me."

his words sent heat flooding through you, your walls fluttering around him, and he smirked when he felt it. "yeah, that’s what i thought," he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction. "your body doesn’t lie, baby."

his pace quickened, each thrust hitting so deep it had you crying out, your shy protests turning into desperate, high-pitched moans that filled the room. hongjoong grinned, his breath hot against your neck.

"fuck, you’re so good for me," he groaned, his cock twitching inside you as he dragged your body closer to his. "you feel how deep i am? how much i’m stretching you out? bet it’s driving you crazy, huh? bet you’re close already."

your head tilted back, your hands twisting in his grip as you tugged weakly, but he didn’t let go. instead, he leaned down, catching your lips in a messy, heated kiss that left you gasping for air.

"don’t hide from me, y/n," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and teasing. "wanna see every fucking second of you falling apart on my cock."

the way his hips snapped into yours, the way his eyes stayed locked on your face, watching every twitch, every moan, every little tremor that rolled through you—it was too much. the heat in your stomach coiled

tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, your body arching off the bed as you came with a loud cry.

hongjoong cursed under his breath, his pace turning rougher, sloppier, chasing his own release. "that’s it," he groaned, his voice wrecked as he buried himself as deep as he could, his release spilling into you with a sharp gasp.

he stayed there for a moment, catching his breath, his body pressed against yours. when he finally pulled back, his hands loosened around your wrists, but he didn’t let you go completely. instead, he leaned in, pressing a slow, almost lazy kiss to your lips.

"you don’t get to hide from me, baby," he murmured, his grin wicked and smug. "not when you’re this fucking pretty taking my cock."

[jjoongstar]

oml the details of those nails and the hands the bones the i uahzha u ahvzhwbbs omfg i fear u slayed this too hard🔥🔥

once again, yunho's hands (*^^*) it was hell finishing the nails 😭

[jjoongstar]

Incessant (Seonghwa x Reader)

Installment 1/8 of Campus Romancers

Summary: The one where Seonghwa, the assigned mentor for your masters degree, suggests you practice making children before teaching them.

Word Count: 5.01k

Genre/Warnings: phdstudent!hwa x gradstudent!reader, elementary education majors (do postgrads have majors??), slightly aged-up hwa, smut with some plot, hair pulling, dirty (filthy) talk (f reader is called a slut/cumslut), spitting, fingering, marking, breeding, unprotected sex (pls do NOT do this irl), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, manhandling, mating press (heh), inappropriate academic relations?, horny!reader x perverted!hwa (match made in heaven frfr)

Author's Note: Here's the very first installment of Campus Romancers (yay!) Kids are most likely NOT in my future, but I'm not opposed to practicing, especially with Seonghwa hehe 🤭 (Let it be known I was clearly ovulating during the writing process bc ??oh my god???). Anyways, pls let me know what you think of the first installment of Campus Romancers!! Much love <33

🎧 playlist 🎧: ateez: deep dive 🍒 kehlani: water 🍒 nct dream: poison 🍒 the weeknd: popular 🍒 the kid laroi: nights like this 🍒 giselle: dopamine 🍒 ateez: selfish waltz 🍒 ningning: bored! 🍒 le sserafim: impurities

This is a work of fiction, and it is not meant to be a realistic representation of any real person mentioned in any way, shape, or form.

Seonghwa’s apartment, despite being lit by multiple soft white lamps, couldn’t have been any warmer than the brisk temperature outside. Nonetheless, you compliment the way he’s designed his interior as you take off your shoes. Some months ago, when you’d started your masters program, you’d never thought you’d be invited inside your mentor’s home. 

In fact, of all that came with a masters degree, you were probably least excited about having to deal with a mentor. They’d been marketed as people who’d help you set off your path with the right connections, with the proper networks, but it had always seemed like an unfortunate byproduct of higher academia.  

You were so not looking forward to meeting older, snooty, PhD candidates and spending time with their holier than thou attitude. So much so that you had to forcefully drag yourself to the orientation hall that early fall morning where a small batch of nervous education masters students were waiting for their mentors. You stood by them, cheeks sore in a painfully superficial friendly smile, and one by one, your peers were pulled away, greeted by their older mentors.

A good amount of the bunch were older, hair peppered with streaks of silver and white, and you had sighed, dropping your smile momentarily as you looked around you. As more and more of the other students were picked away by their mentors, you had slowly slinked away to a quiet corner near the refreshments. 

As you were stuffing a mini poppy seed muffin fully into your mouth, you turned back to the crowd to find that a man, not much older than you, was making his way towards where you were standing alone in a corner of the bustling hall. Mistaking him for another masters student, you look over his shoulder, only to have him stop directly in front of you, with your name on his pink lips posed as a question. 

Somehow, you had lucked out and landed Park Seonghwa as your masters mentor, and suddenly, having a mentor didn’t seem all too bad. 

He was very pretty, his face maturely slender and plush lips settled in a pout. He had a lean frame, which helped him seem as if he was towering over you despite being only some inches taller. His hair was jet black, almost blue, and settled straightly over his face, lengthening it. You’d have to be completely oblivious to not notice the jealous stares thrown your way from the other female masters students. But a successful PhD student in his own right, Seonghwa was also breathtakingly intelligent. 

In the months that followed, you came to find that his quietly offered advice always came from a place of care and genuine concern, and his methods of conducting research were something you couldn’t compliment enough. He was sure of himself, albeit clandestine with his ways, and thereby, his work, modestly confident between the group of incredibly well-respected and experienced mentors, all of which had at least a decade or two on him. 

But it was hard to focus on the knowledge he had to offer you completely when the words falling from his pillowy lips always sounded so strangely seductive. His quiet manner and low voice didn’t do much to quell your unruly, and absolutely unprofessional, desire for him. 

When you were helping him sort through his research, it was always his fingers you’d zero in on. When you met him early in the mornings to discuss your progress, it was his gravelly voice, still heavy with sleep. When you were sitting side by side discussing your own thesis, it was his distinct scent of Black Opium coming from his skin.

Utterly ashamed with yourself, you had gotten off to the thought of Seonghwa a multitude of times, conjuring different ways he would take you. Sometimes it would roughly after a particularly challenging day around his older colleagues. Other days it would be gently as the weather cooled on the campus around you. Whichever way it was, you were always able to make yourself cum to him. 

It didn’t help that he was great with children, too. As you observed him in the field, you saw his usual demeanor falling away to reveal smiles and playfulness, taunting and teasing the children. Many of the children’s eyes would be filled with tears when the time for goodbyes came, already asking when he’d be coming over to play again. 

It wasn’t until the semester really kicked into effect some weeks later when the piling work was threatening to take its toll that you decided enough was enough. So you promise yourself to push your immature infatuation aside, focusing on your degree and on your degree only, but every now and then, you’d catch yourself shamelessly ogling and desperately praying Seonghwa would mistake it for admiration. 

Despite that, now well into the fall and the semester, you and Seonghwa were working like a well-oiled machine, efficient and functional. Which was incredibly important now that you’d received your topic for the spring seminar that was to be held sometime early next year. 

The night you had received your topic, you and Seonghwa were teeming with ideas. Cooped up in his office, you wrote potential outline after outline, gathering research and preparing as many stances as you could conjure up. Sat side by side on the carpet of his intimate 100 square foot office, the two of you worked nonstop. The mid-afternoon had turned into late evening and still, your shoulders stayed firmly pressed against Seonghwa’s as you combed through more and more research. 

Though as the hours passed by, your strong resolve began to fade away. The proximity that you didn’t seem to mind at 5:00 pm was beginning to make you dizzy at 8:00 pm. His woody perfume, the way his fingers expertly typed away at his laptop’s keyboard, the glasses that kept slipping down the slope of his nose. 

Thankfully soon after, Seonghwa had decided to call it a night, but by the time you were packed up and ready to leave, you realized there were no longer any buses running on campus, so when Seonghwa offered to drive you to your apartment, you happily took him up on the offer.

After dropping you off at your own place, Seonghwa had offered to hold the next meeting at his apartment just off campus tomorrow and you had giddily agreed, deciding to meet after your lectures wrapped up in the late afternoon.

Breaking your own promise, you had gotten yourself off to him that night from the remainder of his scent that had seeped into your own clothes. 

But now, in the quiet of his cool apartment, you’re feeling a little out of place. It felt a little surreal to be in a place that was completely Seonghwa. Sure, his office had bits and pieces of him, but the equipment was clearly the university’s. The bland brown carpet, the sturdy gray desk, and the harsh fluorescent lights didn’t belong to Seonghwa. 

This space, which was completely his, felt like Seonghwa. In the center of his living room was a clean white rug, and instead of turning on the overhead lights, he began switching on many of the lamps. The cushions on his white couch were fluffed to resemble clouds, and there was a mild fragrance of vanilla that hung in the air. On his center table was a neatly arranged stack of literary journals and as you take off your shoes, you notice the way he’d organized his own pairs in a small closet. 

It was overwhelmingly Seonghwa. Of course, in the best way possible. 

The two of you waste no time, immediately unpacking the research from your bags, and per Seonghwa’s suggestion, splay them on the floor to get another perspective. You try desperately to ignore being surrounded by Seonghwa and hone in your focus on your research. 

Adn to your credit, things are going well, and hours pass as you collect evidence and build up your strategy. It isn’t until half past ten that you hit a wall. 

For maybe the past hour, you’ve been trying to find evidence to lay the groundwork for your second hypothesis with no luck. The spread out research has made a shuffled mess on the floors, and both you and Seonghwa are sitting on the ground with your aching backs against the couch. You flip through your notes in search of a journal to get past this godforsaken roadblock. 

“We could use Hoffman’s essay in Journal No. 51 to provide evidence for the requirement of substantially good parents to raise substantially good children?” you offer with a tired sigh, holding out your highlighted copy of Journal No.51 to Seonghwa. 

Instead of taking the journal from you, he scoots closer from his end of the couch to yours, shoulders bumping yours. Features softened with exhaustion, he moves even closer in an attempt to read the words on the page of the journal.

Suddenly, the image of Seonghwa playing with children flashes across your eyes. It wasn’t uncommon to shadow other teachers in your line of majors, and you’d even shadowed Seonghwa shadowing another teacher. He was great with kids, seeming able to read into their every microexpression, knowing exactly what they wanted from him before they had the chance to tell him. “Do you think you’d make a good parent?” you find yourself asking, already knowing the answer.

You’re met with silence. You can hear a group of probably drunk students walking outside of the apartment complex before Seonghwa’s air conditioning system kicks in. He’s contemplating the answer, unsure if answering would be crossing a line. 

He backs away from the journal, choosing instead to look at the disarray of pages and books. “I’m not sure,” he finally says, admission quiet. It’s the first time you don’t hear the confidence in his voice. “Do you think you would?”

Frankly, you weren’t so sure either. You think you were very clinical in your approach, very textbook. You weren’t naturally attuned to children and were honestly quick to be irritated at irrational behavior that one would obviously expect to come from children, but you did care for them. You wanted to be a good parent. And for a second, your brain slips to Seonghwa, thinking what parenting would be like with him. 

God, you think it would be the most easiest thing in the world. So before you can filter the thought away, you respond, “Yes, if I was doing it with you.”

“With me?” Oh my god. Your eyes widen a little in shock. You wanted the material of his rug to swallow you alive or shrink into a subatomic particle or become a child. Anything to explain the reason why you said what you said. 

But, unfortunately for you, none of those things happen, so you clear your throat in an attempt to at least appear put together and justify, “I mean, we’re both studying elementary education, you know?” 

It was a bullshit excuse. You knew it, and you were painfully aware that Seonghwa knew it. There was no correlation in parenting a kid and educating them. It was too far of a reach to even begin to entertain. 

But Seonghwa only smiles, exhaustion fading away to reveal mischief, leaning back to rest his back against the couch. Kids were the absolute last thing on your mind. You’d had to work with them enough for your degree, and putting an additional strain on yourself, especially while you were still in school, seemed all too unwise. 

“Kids are tough,” he says, eyeing your stiff form. He wraps his arm over the couch, not touching your body, but resting close enough for you to feel its presence. “There's a lot to consider. They require a lot of attention and care and love. You’ve got to raise them right, under the right supervision, to get them ready for the world. It’s a lot of effort for something that only takes one good shot. Ever considered that?” What the fuck was going on? 

In the moments that pass as Seonghwa waits for your answer, you wonder if he’s thought about you as much as you’ve thought about him these past several weeks.

One part of your brain shouts at you, scolding you for entertaining the thought and not stopping yourself. It wasn’t as if this wasn’t completely and absolutely immoral. Having relations with your mentor is probably up there on things you definitely shouldn’t do as a student. But all the momentary panic and anxiety felt overruled by the wetness collected on your panties. 

Because the other part of your brain is eager to give into the temptation. It makes you rub your legs together, which Seonghwa no doubt catches, and it also makes you speak up. “I’ve thought about it,” is how you choose to summarize your thoughts. 

The ghost of his arm falls away, and you think you've visibly deflated against the couch at the loss of his pseudo-touch. Suddenly his hand is in your hair, fingers threading through the strands at the nape of your neck. You stiffen again, holding back a moan. Seonghwa scoffs, and at your silence, decides to tug. 

He pulls your hair, tilting your head back to look at him. His eyes are dark, filled with a primal hunger that makes your pussy clench. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear, voice low with intent, “Is that so? And have you thought about what it takes? The sacrifices, the intimacy, the practice?”

His other hand trails down your body, over your clothed breasts, your stomach, coming to rest on your thigh. He squeezes, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he slides his hands higher, pushing your skirt up. “Because I have. I’ve thought about all the things we’d need to do to get it right. All the ways we’d have to touch, all the ways we’d have to taste, all the ways we’d have to feel each other. 

He nips at your earlobe before pulling back to look at you, his gaze knowing. “You think I don’t notice the way you look at me? If I didn't know any better, I’d assume that you would start drooling for me if I asked,” he mocks. 

Seonghwa isn’t as oblivious as you’d like him to be. He’d be a complete fool to not notice how you often zone out staring unabashedly sometimes at his hands, other times at his shoulders. But the times when you’d stare openly at his lips, while he was talking that too, had him growing hard under his desk. 

And it wasn’t like he was completely innocent either. After your first couple of meetings, he moved your desk, which prior to meeting you, was facing his, to the corner of his small office only to get a better view of the swell of your breasts under your silken blouses and to watch the material of stupidly short pencil skirts rise higher and higher on your thighs when you’d eventually cross your legs.

Every now and then when you were working on your seminar project, you’d pull up your chair next to him, and Seonghwa could barely contain himself. The smell of your perfume would hit his nose, and just like that he was gone. He’d pull himself together for the sake of your work, but it took everything in him to not shove the papers off his desk and take you right there. 

“I bet you would. In fact, I bet you’ve fantasized this moment in your pretty little head countless times, haven’t you?” His hand reaches the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing against the damp material of your panties. He smirks at the evidence of your arousal. “Seems like you have,” he says, giving your clothed pussy three sharp slaps. 

You feel like you can’t breathe. Of course, you’ve thought about this. More times than you’d care to admit, but you feel like you’re glued to the edge of Seonghwa's couch, taking his touch without much fight. When he pulls on the waistband of your underwear and lets it snap back onto your skin, that is when you finally exhale and reach for him.

Messily, your lips clash against his, and there’s no formality, no decorum. It’s raw, and it’s messy, and there’s spit and teeth everywhere. You’ve definitely caught Seonghwa off guard, but he’s quick to regain his composure, one hand keeping your legs spread while the other is back at the nape of your neck.

He pulls your leg over his lap, sitting you down on his hard cock. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, the same hot desperation in his touch. He presses you down, grinding your body over his, while he nips at your lips, his tongue fighting only momentarily for dominance before you give in. 

As he’s kissing you, he wraps your legs around his waist before standing to set you down on his pristine couch. He breaks the kiss, moving away to look down at you. His eyes are wild, pupils blown wide with lust. He licks his lips, tasting you on them. “Fuck, you taste good.” He leans in to lick your lips while his hands grope every inch of you as he grinds his cock against your clothed pussy. 

You tilt your hips up to meet his thrusts, and the friction feels delicious, sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. “Please,” you whimper, not sure what exactly you’re begging for.

“So needy already,” he says, unbuttoning your blouse while kissing a trail down your torso. “I’ve barely even started with you.”

He sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, and he does the same to your clothing, leaving you in just your underwear on the couch. You’d feel shame, but your busy eyes rove over Seonghwa’s chest and wide shoulders instead, taking in the hard planes of muscles, making you swallow thickly. God, you wanted to mark his skin so badly. 

But Seonghwa’s giving you no time, tugging your panties aside, exposing your wet folds to the cool air of his apartment. His fingers teasingly circle your clit, making you gasp. With impatient hands, he’s taking your panties off, and as soon as they’re on his floor, he’s running the thick pads of fingers up and down your pussy, spreading the slick that’s been collecting for probably the past several hours. 

“Fuck, you’re so ready, aren’t you? So eager for my touch. You want me to fill you up? Hmm?” he asks, increasing the pressure and speed of his movements. “Want me to finger this tight little cunt until you’re squirting all over my hand?”

The shame comes back in full force, hitting you altogether, all at once, because with the little stimulation that Seonghwa’s providing you, you think you’re going to cum. 

He finally slides a finger inside, incredulously scoffing at how tight you are. He pumps his finger in and out, adding a second not long after, and curling them, before pushing them deeper inside and curling again, experimenting to find that sweet spot. He finds it fairly quickly when your moans increase in volume, and he focuses his attention there. 

“Fuck! Please, please!” You arch your back, legs shaking at the rapid movements. But Seonghwa doesn’t let up, picking up the pace. 

He fucks you harder and faster with his fingers, his thumb pressing down hard on your clit. You can feel yourself tensing, your walls fluttering around his slender fingers as your orgasm crashes down on you. “That’s it,” Seonghwa says, not letting up. “Cum all over my hand like the dirty little slut you are. Show me how much you like having my fingers inside you.”

He leans in, biting down on the skin at the base of your neck, sucking hard to leave a mark as he feels you come undone. He keeps his fingers moving until you’re shaking with the force of your release. Only then does he slow down, gently massaging your sensitive flesh as he brings you down from your high. “Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, withdrawing his gingers and bringing them to his lips to lick them clean. “Mm, you taste even better than I imagined.” 

With wide eyes, all you do is watch him, taking in how his long tongue wraps around his pretty fingers, sucking your essence cleanly off of them with his own eyes shut in ecstasy. 

Your filter seems as if it's taken the day off, because the next words that leave your mouth are, “Hwa, I need you inside of me, please.”

He removes his fingers from his mouth with a pop, looking down at you. He leans in to whisper in your ear, pressing his chest against your, and you hope he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating. 

“You’re going to take everything that I give you without any complaints. You’re going to be a good student and listen to your mentor, got that?”

You think you could come again from his words alone, and when he backs away, eyeing you for an answer, you can only shakily nod. 

He takes his cock and runs it along your pussy, watching you with hungry eyes. He spits into his hand, coating his cock in a mixture of his own spit and our orgasm before he slowly starts pushing into you.

You tremble beneath him, completely at his mercy as he takes what he wants from your willing body. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he all but growls, fingers digging into your the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave you covered in bruises for days. He stays there, buried deep inside you for some moments, feeling the rhythmic beating of walls hugging his cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna ruin this pretty pussy for anyone else.”

Seonghwa sets a brutal pace, each snap of his hips jostling you further up the couch. You can only cling to the hand rest and take it, lost in the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. “Use me,” you whimper, voice breaking on a moan. “I’m yours, your slut.”

Through your half-opened lids, you can see him grinning down at you ferally, pupils blown with lust. He brings one of his hands up, wrapping it around your throat. Contrasting the bruising thrusts of his hips, the hand around your throat is gentle, squeezing lightly at your airways. 

Seonghwa drops his head forward, forehead resting against yours, his pace not faltering. “Damn right you are,” he says. “This cunt belongs to me. Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasp out, feeling your pussy clamp down around him at the dominance in his voice. “It’s all yours, Hwa.”

He moans prettily at the way the nickname falls from your lips, thrusting into you even harder. “Good girl,” he praises, thumb brushing over your pulse point. “I’m gonna fill this pussy up until you're dripping with my cum.”

You cry out, head thrashing on the cushion as you cum, your release barreling down on you like a freight train. “Please,” you beg, voice wrecked. “Fill me up, mark me, make me yours,” you whine, words jumbled together. 

But Seonghwa understands anyways, obliging your request with a harsh thrust, slamming into you one more time and emptying himself inside you with a hoarse breath. You can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up to the brim until it’s leaking out around his cock. Seonghwa grinds into you, making sure every last drop is deposited deep inside your hungry cunt. 

When he finally pulls out, you’re left gaping and dripping, his seed oozing out of your well-fucked hole. He flips you onto your stomach, pushing your legs up and back, leaving you with your ass in the air and head pressed into his cushions. 

“Fuck, look at that pretty little pussy, all stretched and sloppy,” he grumbles out, gathering the cum leaking out of you and pushing it back in with his two fingers. He takes some moments, looking at your fucked form. Your legs are still shaking slightly and your eyes have rolled back in your head while you shudder under him. “I need to fill you up again.”

Before you’re able to completely comprehend his words, Seonghwa’s lifting you off the couch and carrying you to his bedroom. You try to keep your eyes open in an attempt to observe his space, cream and silver objects quickly blurring past you, but it takes Seonghwa only a few strides until he's thrown you onto his sheets and is hovering over you again. 

He rakes in your body, the bruising of his harsh hold already taking place on your hips, your heaving chest trying to catch its breath, and the mess that he’s left in between your legs. With a shuddered groan, he positions himself at your pulsing pussy, rubbing the head of his reddened cock through your slick folds, coating himself in your juices and his own release. 

The overstimulation has you running on overdrive, needing to close your legs at the tingling sensation.

But with a quick shove, Seonghwa has them spread again. “You’re mine, my little student, my little cumslut. Do you understand?” he asks, his voice rough with desire. “This pussy belongs to me, and I’m going to fill you up over and over and over again until my cum is leaking out of you for days.”

And with that, he pushes his hips forward, burying himself inside you to the hilt once more. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your walls already sensitive from your earlier orgasms, but he doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, immediately setting a fast pace that has his headboard slamming against the wall.

He leans down, capturing one of your nipples between his teeth and biting down just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. “Stay still,” he mutters onto your skin, but you’re gone, thrashing at his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. You’re barely able to hear him over your own moans, hiccuping at the overstimulation.

As if he didn’t already feel amazing inside of you, Seonghwa tightly grips the underside of your thighs, sure to add to the collection of bruises on your body. You’re not making it any easier for him, and with your legs constantly threatening to close, Seonghwa’s pace was faltering, unable to put his energy completely into fucking you dumb. 

Having had enough of it, he brings your ankles over his shoulders and presses his weight onto you, pushing himself deeper into your sopping pussy as Seonghwa all but folds you in half. You can let out a strangled cry as your eyes roll back into your head at feeling him nestled so deeply inside of you. 

“I said stay fucking still,” he presses his forehead against you again, and you feel like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. He looks at you with a crazed look in his eyes. “God, I’ve wanted to cum so deep inside of you for so long. I’ve wanted you to feel me for days. I want you to feel me when you’re in class, I want you to feel me when we’re talking to the all the old fucks in our department meetings. Fuck, you don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to take you in my office with a line of students outside.”

Your voice feels caught in your throat, and for a moment, the only sound in the room is of your skin slapping together. Seonghwa takes in your aghast expression and finds himself smirking, leaning in once again to capture your lips with his in a quick kiss.

Seonghwa entirely surrounds you. His forearms are near your ears, fingertips tangled in your hair. His lips huff at your temple, and beads of his sweat drip onto your neck. The smell of your release, his release, Seonghwa’s woody perfume, the vanilla encapsulating his apartment is all around you. When his dick twitches inside of you, signaling his climax, you realize you needed his cum inside you.

“Please cum inside me, Hwa. Please, I need it so bad, please, please,” you whine. “Fill me up, please, fill me up,” you repeat like a mantra. The words are slurred together, spoken in between moans and cries, not making much sense. 

Yet, just as he did before, Seonghwa answers your pleas, and with one sharp thrust, he fills you up once again with a low growl. He stays buried to the hilt, and you can feel rope after rope of his cum being spurted inside your pulsing walls. 

He’s flipped your lethargic body on its stomach again, pulling your ass up to his face. With rushed fingers, he’s smearing the mix of your arousal and orgasm with his around your lips and clit. It’s overwhelmingly messy and the sound of the mess is nothing less than obscene, but you feel like you’re floating, riding the high of your orgasm. 

You’re not quite sure what Seonghwa’s doing when his fingers are pulled away from your core, and it isn’t until he utters his next words that you know what’s running through his mind. “Again.”

Your eyes widen as he pushes your face into his pillows while pulling your hips upwards. “I-I thought it only took one good shot?” you mumble against his sheets, unaware of the perverted plans Seonghwa had for you. 

Perspiration had gathered at your back, and Seonghwa could only laugh at your already beyond fucked-out state. His fingers run up and down your abused pussy, stopping at where his cum was trickling out of you. With two fingers, he pushes his release back inside, curling his fingers in the process, watching the way your eyes flutter shut. 

“Better to be safe than sorry,” he comments, removing his fingers and incessantly aligning himself against your ruined pussy once again for the third time that night.

Author's Note II: I would really appreciate you leaving your thoughts in the form of comments and/or reblogs! It really helps me out and keeps me motivated to write more, so thank you in advance to those who do! Much love <3

taglist: @chngbnwf , @waywardstaytiny , @akunoeyebrows , @hwalentine-s , @soupbinlily , @ultrapinkvoidbouquet , @amphiroxx , @jjoongstar , @tvxqnnie , @nopension , @yutasbutterfly02 , @intowxnderland , @hwxbibi , @certifiedmoa , @minkioswoo , @sanhwalvr , @hyukssunflower

[jjoongstar]

honey, baby

synopsis: san needs your attention

pairing: husband!san x afab!reader

warnings: SMUT (18+), jealousy, handjob, begging, teasing, sub!san, dacryphilia, pet-names, house-wife!reader, messy endings, light marking kink, reader does not get off..., not proof-read :0

word count: 2.5k

note: i'm sorry, we all need some sub!san in our lives... right...

masterlist

How delicate his hand is, adorned handsomely with understated rings, pressing gently against the small of your back as he leads you through the room. Artificial chatter, decorated with an occasional bout of posh laughter, settles finely above the jazz playing in the background. 

Your heels click softly against the marble flooring, each step lining up perfectly with his. 

Together, you’re a vision of excellence. 

San is the man that everyone wants. The definition of a gentleman. He’s charming, polite, and patient. But also unbelievably beautiful. He comes from a background of old money, but his legacy never stopped him from looking elsewhere for love.

Then there’s you. A woman who can blend into any crowd, disarming even the most stuck-up aristocrat with an easy smile. No one knows where you came from, but they don’t really care – or rather, they stopped caring once they realized how easily San would drop them for bothering you. 

The two of you act as the personification of refined love. 

Modest, refined, and lovely. Rarely sharing even a single kiss in front of an audience. 

San nods to a few guests as he passes them, politely acknowledging their existence, but never making a move to engage with them. He exudes this aura of cool confidence – as if every breath he takes is calculated and perfected. This way, no one ever questions his decisions or fights his whims…not like you anyway.

The wine glass in your hand has a bare sip of red left in it. The rim is spotted with the seductive print of your lips, reflecting the small tastes you took throughout the night to keep yourself relatively sober.

You would have gone for another but a heated whisper, pressed exquisitely against the edge of your ear, drew away any thoughts of humoring your husband’s guests. You settle it gently on a counter, no longer needing the prop of a hostess. 

San’s leading hand presses more insistently against back with each step he takes. His breaths grow deeper, his body draws closer. 

Usually, he’s able to wait until the party ends – watching you with dark eyes as you see the last of the crowd off, thanking them for visiting with that polite smile you’ve perfected. You’re so good to him, putting up with the lifestyle he was born into and taking the role of the perfect housewife and hostess that pays attention to every need her guests have.  

But now, San needs your attention to be directed at him. 

—

He broke while you were in the middle of a conversation with somebody’s plus one. And San knows he was a plus one because he didn’t recognize the man…or his name…or his “successful tech” company. 

He’s not usually a jealous man, but something about this guy…

San was sitting next to you, charming yet another investor of his father’s business, when he heard a low voice speaking to his beautiful wife, “Please, call me Yunho, Mr. Jeong is my father.” 

It peeved him.

You laughed politely, displaying your easy going nature by complying with his wish, repeating his first name before offering your own. San bristled at the sound of another man’s name coming from your lips. 

Who even is this guy? 

There were no Jeongs on the guestlist – and he would know, he’s the one who checks off on that stuff. This is a business party, not some get together that can be crashed so unpleasantly by an overnight millionaire like him.

The investor he was once trying to woo was getting pulled into a different conversation. And thank god for that. He wouldn’t have been much fun to talk to when he’s distracted like this anyway. 

San took that as an opportunity to turn his body toward yours. He watched intently as you continued your friendly interaction with a handsome stranger – who seems to be leaning closer with every pretty word you speak. 

You looked effortlessly beautiful as you rambled about the recent trip he took you on, excitedly describing your favorite restaurants with that familiar brightness in your eyes. He’s suddenly longing to hold your hand right then and there, to pull you onto his lap and nuzzle his face against the crook of your neck. 

His hand moved before he could think about it, gently brushing over your forearm to get your attention. When you turned to look at your husband, the man in front of you retreated from his slow shift into your space, suddenly uneasy by how San was staring him down. 

“Honey?”

At the sound of your voice, he shifted his attention from the offending man to you, the tension in his shoulders easing at the affectionate pet-name. San rounded his eyes innocently, softening his expression. 

“Baby…” He said timidly in a bare whisper, fully knowing that that name was strictly off-limits in public. You raise a questioning eyebrow, wondering what made your husband so needy all of the sudden.

“San.”

San leaned closer to you, a hand slowly shifting from the velvet couch to the top of your thigh. The guests continued to bustle around the two of you, unaware of the sudden tension settling between you. You let him push closer until his lips barely brush against ear.

“Pay attention to me…”

—

You’ve never left your own party early. You have actually trained yourself to have the same amount of energy greeting the guests as you do leading them out. The party doesn't end until you've seen everyone out.

So will anyone really notice a scant 15 minutes of your absence?

Well, you hope not. 

San couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. Instead, he pulled you into an oversized laundry room at the end of the hall, sliding the door shut before you could protest about being too close to the party.

“Sannie, wait.” 

Your words are lost to the air. 

He’s already pressing desperate, hot kisses against your throat. His broad body effectively pins you to the door as his hands, itching to undress you, drag over your soft curves covered by the fine fabric of your dress. Eager fingers grope over your tits before settling delicately around the base of your neck.

His suit jacket rests in a heap on the floor, leaving him in his unbuttoned vest and wrinkled dress shirt – a view you’d love to devour if not for the people who stand on the other side of the door. 

“Maybe we should stop –” 

“I can’t, I-I need you, baby.” He’s begging you – each word pathetically whined out from his pouty lips. “Need you close to me.”

“What if they notice that we’re both gone? What if they come looking?”

Pitiful moans are pressed onto your skin as he helplessly grasps at your body, scared that you’d leave him wanting and overwhelmed by his need to feel you against him.

At this point, San wouldn’t care if the whole party saw him fucking you against the dining table – least of all that Yunho guy. He doesn’t care if they can hear him whining for you, begging you to let him fill you up like he does every night. He wants to show you off, hold open your cum soaked thighs just to show them that you love him and he’s your good boy. 

But at the same time, letting anyone see you like that irks him like nothing else. You’re his and he’s yours.

“Please.” He implores, eyes glistening with a needy look. He gently takes your hand and leads it to where he needs you the most. You give in easily, pressing against his cock which strains against his perfectly tailored trousers. He’s already throbbing from the faint sensation of your touch. 

“Please…?” You tease under your breath, now fully gripping the shape of him through the layers of his clothes. He watches the way your hand moves over him with a dazed look, appreciating the way your small hand looks, fisting his clothed cock with glazed eyes.

You squeeze him abruptly, nudging him for an answer and he responds with a surprised whine, his hips jerking up against you from the intense sensation.  

“Please t-touch me.” 

“I am, baby.”

His dark eyebrows pinch in frustration, “You know what I mean.”

You hum understandingly, slowly unzipping his pants as you taunt him.

“You’re so needy…” 

He sighs as you pull down his briefs along with the restricting fabric of his pants. His thick cock slaps against his covered stomach, flushed prettily in a deep shade of pink, gently weeping pre-cum at the tip. Everything about San is pretty – especially the enamoured way he stares down at you with his signature pouty lips and flushed cheeks.

Eyes locked with his, you idly run a finger against his bare hip, so close to where he wants you to touch. He stutters out a shaky breath, his body shivering from the delicate sensation.

“K-kiss me.” He cups your jaw and moves impossibly closer to you. Your chest meets his as he holds you close, his hips pressing his hard cock against your body. He dips down to hover his soft lips over yours, “...Please.” He adds in a whisper – drenched in desperation. 

As if you could ever deny him.

“You’re cute…” You whisper back before pressing your lips onto his. 

You feel him immediately melt against you, his cock twitching eagerly against your stomach as he finally tastes you on his tongue. You hope he doesn't notice how you subtly rub your thighs together, an attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Your hands drift from resting on his chest to tangle in his hair, tugging gently at the ends, if only to hear that breathless whine that you adore. 

As you draw away for a breath, you notice a smear of red messily decorating his lips. He doesn’t seem to care though, looking down at a similar mess on your lips with a heated gaze.

You can tell that he’s imagining the same stain at the base of his cock. San has a thing for marks, especially because it’s you who’s leaving them. 

You lift up his dress shirt before pressing the palm of your hand against his aching erection, drawing a cute whimper from him. His stomach flexes from the sudden coolness of the air touching his heated skin.

Oh, how you want to lick over each defined ab, make him cry out from your teasing before biting into the firmness of his stupidly broad chest – but you don’t have time for that right now.

“Look at you,” You wrap your hand around him and slowly start to jerk him off, “almost about to cum from some kissing.” San bites his bottom lip to keep his moans down as your thumb repeatedly rubs over the edge of his sensitive tip. 

“C-can’t help it, you taste s-so good.” His hips thrust eagerly against your hand, cock generously leaking as he feels himself already approaching the edge.

Your wrist moves in quick, practiced motions, slick noises filling the space between you. You can't help but dip your other hand under his dress shirt, feeling up his perfect body with the edge of your nails to make him tremble.

“I'll let you taste more tonight if you cum for me like a good boy."

San nods eagerly, but you can tell by that hazy look in his eye that he'd agree to jump off from the second floor balcony if you asked him.

You can tell that he's getting close by the way he's bucking into your slippery fist, whines growing louder and more desperate. It almost looks like he's about to cry as he stares down at the way your hand is wrapped so perfectly around his throbbing cock.

“About to c-cum,” he pants, eyes glistening sweetly. "F-ffuck, baby… Y-you’re s-so good to me. Don’t want it to get on you, though, and ruin your pretty dress.”

"No?" You tease as you watch him struggle to move a mere inch away, hips still thrusting in want. How cute. His eyes squeeze shut at your honeyed tone, knowing you were going to make it harder for him to back away. "You don't want to see me covered in your pretty mess?"

"Nnghh~" You watch him scramble to hold off his orgasm, legs shaking as his hands grip your waist tightly to ground himself. "please -- !"

You finally let him make some space between you, finding it adorable that even in this state, he's worried about protecting you from the people outside.

You give him one last squeeze, fingers brushing over his dripping tip before whispering: "Okay, baby~ Cum for me."

And he does. Oh, how he makes a mess of himself.

His broad shoulders shake as he curls his body into himself, head dipped while spilling out the most pathetic breathy whines against the top of your shoulder.

His hips shake sporadically as each rope of cum covers your hand, dripping miraculously over his lap and onto his once perfectly-pressed pants. Somehow, he stayed true to his word. Not a drop touched your dress.

"Good boy..."

He groans as you milk him with a tight fist, body shuddering from the overstimulation. Your other hand soothes him, rubbing gently over his stomach as he moves through his high.

---

San's panting, leaning against the washing machine with a fucked-out look on his face. He pulled his briefs back on, opting to leave the pants unbuttoned and barely hanging onto his hips.

At this point, it would be better for him to change – his pants are stained with drops of cum, his shirt is wrinkled and stretched out, his hair has been fluffed into a mess. 

Maybe you should just tell everyone that he wasn’t feeling well…

You press a light peck to the side of his flushed neck before moving away from him in a hurry. You wash your hands in the small sink at the corner of the room and find a few tissues to take off your ruined lipstick and any residual sweat. 

You try to fix your hair to look decent – though there is no mirror to really check – and smooth out your dress. Thankfully, San only made a mess of himself (at least, visually). You were planning to slip into a bathroom on the way to the parlor anyway. 

“Ok, baby.” You throw the tissues away before turning back to your husband. His eyes are still half-lidded with lust, watching how easily you go back to being the refined woman from earlier this evening. “Clean yourself up, I’m going back out. I’ll tell them you’re feeling under the weather.” 

“You’re so beautiful.” His raspy voice is endearing. 

You feel your cheeks heating up at the compliment. You try to stamp it down, try to stay composed, but he always knows what to say to make you feel this way. 

“You are beautiful, baby.” You respond with a gentle smile, walking back to him to give him one last kiss. One turns into many. He shyly smiles back, his dimples deepening as you scatter more kisses around his face.

“Wish me luck out there.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair to reduce the fluffiness. 

“Come back to me soon, okay?”

“Anything for you, my love.”