jngwonu

[jngwonu]

any thoughts or drabbles for jay? 😩

absolutely !!!! i am always thinking about jay you dont even understand

warnings : free use , unprotected sex , hole inspections

free use is a concept you’d brought up once to him before. initially his eyes had widened and he’d choked on his words, which you’d taken it as a sign he wasn’t into it. not a problem, it’s not like your sex life was boring with him anyway. however, your proposal had done something irreversible to his brain, and he can’t stop thinking about the fact that you love him enough to be willing to give him access to your body whenever he wants.

so when you walk into the living room wearing one of his t shirts, still a bit sleepy, the hem of his shirt barely covering your ass, revealing that you’re not wearing any underwear, he loses it and needs you. is a bit nervous at first to bring it up again, but after you’d smiled at him knowingly and told him the offer still stands and he could take you up on it whenever he feels like it, he gains a little more confidence.

comes up behind you in the kitchen when you’re making breakfast, tells you to continue doing what you’re doing as he fucks his cock into you. joins you later in the bathroom, bending you over the sink and having his way with you again.

loves it the most when he’s already had a few rounds with you, and you’re slightly dazed, a little unsteady on your feet from your body being used like this, his cum all over your abused cunt and ass. you’re just so cute like this he can’t help but take you again, drinking in your soft whines as he pushes you up against a wall, one of your legs hiked up over his arm as he fucks his drying cum back into you.

by the end of the day doesn’t even fuck you anymore, instead he pushes your legs up when you lay down on the couch, giving him a perfect view to inspect your ruined and dripping pussy. it’s kind of embarrassing and you protest at first, feeling humiliated. he strengthens his hold on your thighs and forces you to stay spread open for him, “just wanna see, angel. your little holes are just so pretty. and all mine.” and you can’t help but feel a spark of something primal and hot at his words and actions and you end up begging him to just fill you up you one more time. “my pretty baby, still not satisfied? i guess i haven’t given you enough, hmm?”

[jngwonu]

baby, I’m burning up —jay park

jay promised to have my way with you after you've recovered from your fever, this is him keeping his promise

MDNI | breeding kink, overstimulation, p in v, unprotected sex (always wrap it up), dirty talk, nipple stimulation, aftercare.

It's my first time writing smut and I'll admit, I got carried away and just wrote everything that came to mind. 8.9k words of just pure smut.

Happy reading!

@nithxhoon

The rain painted trails down the windows of Jay’s apartment, a hushed counterpoint to the jazz curling through the air—saxophone notes smoky and slow, like honey dripping from a spoon. You had been hovering near the bookshelf, pretending interest in Jay’s vinyl collection but your pulse hammered in your throat like a trapped bird. Jay leaned against the doorframe, watching you with dark, heavy-lidded eyes, a slow smile playing on his lips.

“Come here, baby.” Jay murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated straight down your spine. It wasn’t a command but a warm drawl that pulled you across the room like a magnet. The first touch was tentative—Jay’s fingertips brushing your jawline, tilting your face up. Then your lips met, a soft press that ignited instantly into something deeper, hungrier. You melted into it, a soft sigh escaping you as Jay’s arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush against a solid chest that radiated heat. Jay tasted like sweet tea and mint, his kiss a slow and deliberate exploration that mapped the contours of your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessive gentleness that made your knees weak.

Every nerve ending felt alight. Jay’s hands were large and warm, one splayed low on your back, the other cradling the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. The kiss was a slow drowning, a delicious suffocation. Jay’s lips were firm, coaxing whimpers from you with each deliberate sweep of his tongue. You felt hyperaware—the faint scent of cedarwood and clean sweat clinging to Jay’s skin, the overwhelming solidity of the body pressed against your own. You felt cherished, desired and utterly out of your depth, trembling with the sheer intensity of sensation focused solely on you.

Holding you was like cradling something infinitely precious and startlingly responsive. The way you yielded completely yet trembled with pent-up energy beneath his touch… It was intoxicating. Jay focused on the softness of your lips, the little hitches in your breath, the way your body arched subtly into every point of contact. Jay wanted to drown in this feeling, in the pure, unguarded responsiveness. He poured every ounce of his focus into the kiss, learning the map of your mouth, savoring the sweet sounds he elicited, determined to make your first time an altar of pleasure built just for you.

The kiss deepened, becoming a languid dance of tongues and shared breath. Jay’s hands slid lower, gripping your hips firmly before lifting you. You gasped into Jay’s mouth as your feet left the floor, instinctively wrapping your legs around Jay’s waist.

Jay carried you the few steps to the plush couch near the window and sank down, settling you firmly onto his lap. Your bodies are aligned perfectly now, you are straddling him. A slow, knowing grin spread across your face as you felt the hard evidence of Jay’s arousal against you.

Jay looked at you with a dazed smile before diving back into another searing kiss.

Jay’s hands roamed over your back, down to cup the firm swell of your ass through your jeans, kneading gently. He broke the kiss just enough to trail his lips along your jawline, down the sensitive column of your throat, nipping lightly. “God, you feel good,” Jay breathed against your skin, his voice thick with desire. “So damn good sitting right here on me.” His hands slid under your thin t-shirt, smooth palms skimming up the smooth plane of your back, making you shiver violently. “You like that, baby? Like feeling me touch you?” His thumb brushed over a nipple through the fabric.

You nodded frantically, your hips giving an involuntary little roll against Jay’s hardness, drawing a low groan from the man beneath you.

Jay pulled back slightly, his dark eyes locking onto your glazed ones. His grip tightened possessively on your hips, stilling the movement. “Uh-uh, baby,” he murmured, his voice a velvet command. “I want to hear that sweet voice. Tell me. Do you like it when I touch you?”

You swallowed, the intensity of Jay’s gaze pinning you. Your voice came out breathless and husky, barely a whisper. “Y-yes… Jay… I like it. So much.”

A satisfied rumble vibrated in Jay’s chest. “That’s it,” he praised, leaning in to capture your bottom lip between his teeth for a gentle suck before releasing it. “Such a good girl using your words for me.” His hands resumed their exploration, pushing your shirt up higher. “Want more?” he asked, his thumb circling your nipple again, this time directly on bare skin.

You gasped, arching into the touch. “Yes! Please… more.”

“More what, baby?” Jay prompted, his other hand sliding around to tease the waistband of your jeans.

“Touch me… everywhere,” You pleaded, your voice gaining strength, laced with desperate need. “Please, Jay.”

That was all the encouragement Jay needed. He stood effortlessly, lifting you with him again, your bodies still fused together. Carrying you down the dim hallway towards the bedroom felt primal, possessive. The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. Jay lowered you onto the edge of the bed with infinite care, kneeling before you. His eyes never left you as he slowly, deliberately, undid the button of your jeans, then the zipper. The sound was obscenely loud in the quiet room.

He peeled the denim down your legs, followed by your underwear, revealing how wet you were for him. You trembled, biting your lip. Jay’s gaze was hot, appreciative. “Look at you,” he breathed, running a reverent hand up your inner thigh. “Perfect.” He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily off the mattress. "Jay—"

That first kiss there sent lightning through your veins. You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in the most exhilarating way. Jay’s tenderness was overwhelming—the way he handled you like something fragile and priceless even as desire burned fiercely in his eyes. Every touch was amplified; the rough pad of Jay’s thumb stroking your hip bone, the warm puff of breath against your wet cunt. You felt like you might shatter from the sheer concentration of sensation focused solely on you.

Kneeling before you was an act of worship. The sight of you on his bed, trembling with anticipation and sensitivity… it stoked a fierce protectiveness in Jay alongside the roaring hunger. He wanted to memorize every reaction—the flutter of your eyelids, the way your breath hitched, the pink flush spreading down your neck.

“Lay back down baby,”

You lay sprawled against the sheets. Your legs were hooked over Jay’s broad shoulders, trembling violently, heels digging into the hard muscle of Jay’s back. Jay knelt between them, his world narrowed to the slick, glistening heat pressed against his mouth.

He hadn’t just kissed it. He’d claimed it.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers biting into the soft flesh there, holding you utterly still as Jay feasted. He’d started slow, teasingly tracing the outer folds with the very tip of his tongue, savoring the way you gasped and squirmed, the tiny whimpers escaping your bitten-red lips. But patience was a luxury Jay had abandoned the moment you had shyly spread your legs wider with a breathy, “Please…”

Now, Jay was ravenous.

He flattened his tongue against your core, a broad, wet stroke from the fluttering entrance all the way up to the swollen, aching bud of your clit. You cried out, a high, broken sound, your back arching off the bed. “J-Jay!”

“Right here!” Jay growled against you, the vibration drawing another desperate moan from deep in your throat. Jay didn’t let up. He lapped at you like a man starved, his tongue relentless—circling that tight little hole, feeling it clench desperately around nothing, then flicking hard and fast over your clit, before plunging the flat of his tongue hard against the entire sensitive clit. Every gasp, every twitch, every slick sound of his own mouth working fueled Jay’s hunger.

Jay lifted his head just enough to speak, his lips glistening, his eyes dark pools of intent fixed on your face. "Tell me, baby," He urged, his voice a sultry command. "How does this feel?” He punctuated the question by licking a long, slow stripe to your clit, making you whimper.

You tried to answer, tried to form words through the haze of overwhelming sensation. You managed a strangled moan before Jay licked you again, cutting off your air and your words with the sheer intensity of it. Your back arched, a choked cry escaping you.

Your mind was fogged with pleasure. You opened your mouth, desperate to answer once more, to tell Jay how amazing, how real and consuming this was, how Jay’s mouth felt like heaven and hellfire combined. But all that came out was a fractured gasp as Jay licked your cunt again, this time with more pressure and rhythm that was both demanding and reverent.

"Uh… uh… Jay!" You finally managed, your voice cracking on the name. You tried to push your hips up for more but Jay pinned your hips firmly to the mattress with one strong hand. "F-feels s-so… g-good…" The words were torn from you, fragmented and breathless.

"That's it," Jay praised, his voice thick with arousal and satisfaction. "Trying so hard to be good for me. Trying so hard to tell me how much you like my mouth on your pretty cunt." He swirled his tongue around it, collecting the taste of you. "Such a good girl, struggling just to speak while I lick your cunt."

You felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. The pleasure was building and Jay’s mouth was relentless, his praise filthy and affirming, his control absolute. "P-please…" You gasped, unsure if you were begging for release or for mercy or simply for Jay never to stop. "Can't… can't t-talk… when you… oh God!" Your words dissolved into a high-pitched keen as Jay sucked harder, his tongue flicking rapidly.

He slid two fingers inside your cunt, feeling the hot, silken vice grip him instantly. He curled them upwards, finding that spot deep inside, rubbing firmly as his mouth descended back onto your clit. He sucked it hard into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the rigid nub while his fingers pumped steadily, scissoring slightly to stretch you. The taste was intoxicating— sweet, purely you—and Jay groaned into you, the sound muffled against wet flesh.

“F-fuck! Jay!” You babbled, your hands flying to tangle in Jay’s hair, not to push him away, but to hold him there, grinding your hips down against Jay’s face in frantic little circles. Your thighs shook uncontrollably around Jay’s head. “Oh god, oh god, right there… don’t stop… please don’t stop!”

Jay had no intention of stopping. He redoubled his efforts, sucking harder on your clit, flicking his tongue over it with rapid precision while his fingers fucked you deep and steady. He could feel the orgasm building in you like a storm—the frantic pulse under his tongue, the way your inner walls clamped down rhythmically on his fingers, the high-pitched keening sounds tearing from your throat. Jay wanted to drown in it. He pushed his face deeper, burying his nose in the soft thatch of hair at the base of your sex, breathing you in, tasting every drop of slick that flowed freely now.

“That’s it, baby.” Jay rasped, pulling off just long enough to see the wrecked look on your face—eyes wide and unseeing, lips parted in a silent scream, cheeks flushed crimson. “Gonna make you come all over my mouth. Gonna drink every fucking drop. Come.” His voice was a dark command, thick with lust.

He sealed his mouth back over your clit and sucked, hard, matching the pace of his thrusting fingers. It was too much. You shattered. A raw scream tore from your throat as your body bowed violently off the mattress. Your cunt clenched like a fist around Jay’s fingers, pulsing wildly, drenching his hand and Jay’s chin in a hot rush of release. Jay held you through it, relentlessly, lapping at your clit through the spasms, swallowing the flood of wetness, feeling the aftershocks ripple through your body beneath his mouth and hands.

When you finally collapsed back onto the sheets, trembling and gasping, utterly spent, Jay slowly withdrew his fingers. They were glistening. He brought them to his mouth, never breaking eye contact with your dazed, blissful gaze, and sucked them clean with deliberate slowness, savoring the taste of his climax on his tongue. A low groan rumbled in Jay’s chest.

He leaned forward, kissing his way up your trembling stomach, leaving wet trails on the heated skin, until he reached your lips. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself mixed with Jay’s own hunger on his tongue.

“Sweetest thing I ever tasted,” Jay murmured against your swollen lips, his voice wrecked, eyes burning with possessive satisfaction. “And I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” The promise hung in the thick air, dark and delicious. You whimpered, a weak sound of overwhelmed need, already feeling the embers stirring again under Jay’s scorching gaze.

Jay stood, shedding his own clothes with efficient grace. The sight of him—tall, powerfully built, his own arousal thick and urgent—stole your breath anew. Jay joined you, stretching out above you, pulling you close for another deep, drugging kiss that tasted of desire.

Unbuttoning your shirt felt like unwrapping something infinitely precious. Each button yielded, revealing more smooth, flushed skin. He paused to admire the sight—the way your tits spilled out of your bra, the elegant lines of your collarbones, the subtle shift of muscle beneath fair skin. Bending his head, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss just below one collarbone, swirling his tongue, savoring the salt-sweet taste and the way you arched into it with a breathy whimper. So responsive. So perfect.

The intensity in Jay’s eyes as he looked at you, truly looked at you, made warmth pool low in your belly. When Jay placed your hand over his own heart, the strong, steady beat beneath your palm felt like a vow. Yours. The word hung unspoken but palpable in the air.

Your legs intertwined naturally, skin sliding against skin. Jay’s kisses deepened, became languid explorations, his hands roaming with possessive tenderness—tracing the curve of your hip, the sensitive dip of your waist, skimming along the inner seam of your thigh. Everywhere Jay touched felt sensitive.

The feel of your beneath him, pliant and trusting, was almost overwhelming. Jay focused on the rhythm of your kisses, the soft sounds escaping your lips, the way your body subtly arched into every caress. When his fingers brushed against your hip bone and felt the sharp intake of breath, the instinctive lift of your hips, Jay had to clench his jaw against the surge of possessiveness. The sight stole Jay’s breath—skin glowing in the low light, lean lines taut with anticipation. Pure beauty. Jay knelt between your thighs, drinking in the sight.

“Ready for me, baby?” Jay murmured, his hand drifting lower, fingertips tracing teasing circles around your entrance.

You nodded instinctively, then remembered. “Yes,” he gasped, arching into the touch. “Jay… please… I need you.”

Jay kissed you again, deep and reassuring. “Gonna take such good care of you,” he promised, as he positioned himself between your spread thighs, the air thickened with anticipation. He leaned down, bracing himself on one forearm, his other hand guiding his thick crown to press firmly against your pussy. Your eyes locked—Jay’s dark with intensity and tenderness, Yours wide with trust and burgeoning need.

“Keep looking at me,” Jay commanded softly, his voice rough with restraint. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He pressed forward with agonizing slowness.

The stretch was immense, breathtaking. You gasped, fingers digging into Jay’s back as you felt yourself being steadily filled, stretched wider than you thought possible. It burned—a deep, consuming fire—but beneath it surged an overwhelming sense of connection and rightness as Jay sheathed himself inch by excruciating inch inside you.

“Breathe… that’s it… just breathe through it for me,” Jay murmured, sweat beading on his forehead as he held himself perfectly still once buried to the hilt. He watched your face intently, searching for any sign of distress beyond the expected intensity. “You feel… incredible,” he groaned, dropping his forehead against yours. “So damn tight and hot around me.”

Slowly, carefully, Jay began to move. Withdrawing almost completely before pushing back in with that same torturous slowness. Each stroke was a deep glide that rubbed exquisitely over your g-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outwards from your core. The initial burn subsided into a deep thrumming ache that quickly transformed into pure ecstasy under Jay’s relentless focus on your pleasure.

Fullness didn't begin to describe it. It was like being remade from the inside out. The slow drag of Jay inside you was a revelation—friction igniting sparks along nerve endings you never knew existed. Each measured thrust struck that spot deep within you with unerring accuracy, sending liquid heat flooding through your veins. The sounds escaping you were raw and unrestrained—gasps turning into high-pitched whines and broken pleas for more.

You clung to Jay as if drowning, lost in the overwhelming sensations: the heavy weight of Jay's body pressing you into the mattress, the slick slide of skin on skin, the deep ache-pleasure blooming with every movement, and above all, the intense intimacy of Jay's unwavering gaze locked onto your own.

The flush spreading down your chest, the desperate arch of your throat, the way your tight pussy fluttered and clenched around Jay’s length with increasing urgency—it was torture. Jay fought his own rising tide, determined to push you over first.

"Fuck, Jay—!" You gasped, your voice shredded, fingers scrabbling uselessly against the sweat-slicked planes of Jay’s back. Jay’s thrusts weren't fast, but they were devastatingly deep, each one grinding against that spot inside you that sent shockwaves of pure, blinding pleasure radiating outwards. "So deep… so deep…"

Jay’s gaze was locked onto your face, dark eyes blazing with possessive heat. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a low, gravelly growl that vibrated through your bones. "You take it so good, baby," he rasped, punctuating each word with a deliberate, grinding thrust that made you cry out, your back arching off the mattress. "Taking every inch like you were made for it. Feel how deep I am? Feel how I own this sweet pussy?" His hand slid down, fingers finding your swollen pussy stretched taut around the thick base of his cock. He rubbed firmly, the rough pad of his thumb pressing against the hole, adding a sharp, delicious sting to the overwhelming fullness. "So greedy for it. Clenching down on me like you never want to let go."

The deep penetration and the rough stimulation at his entrance pushed you towards a precipice you couldn't see. The pleasure was immense, a crushing weight, a white-hot brand searing you from the inside out. It built and built, coiling tighter than a spring, until the pressure behind your eyes became unbearable. A sob tore from your throat, ragged and desperate, followed instantly by hot tears spilling over, tracking through the sweat on your temples.

Jay saw them instantly. His relentless rhythm didn't falter—if anything, the thrusts intensified, holding you on that edge—but his expression shifted. The fierce possessiveness softened infinitesimally, replaced by a strong, almost reverent tenderness. He leaned down further, his chest brushing yours and brought his free hand up. His thumb, rough but infinitely gentle, swept across your cheekbone, catching the salty tears.

"It’s okay, baby," Jay murmured, his voice thick with arousal and something deeper, richer. He kissed the damp trail his thumb had made, his lips soft against your overheated skin.

"Look at you. So beautiful like this. Taking my cock so deep it makes you cry." He kissed another tear away, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt. "Good tears, baby. Perfect tears. Proof of how good you feel it." He pulled back slightly, just enough to look you full in the face, his gaze holding you captive. "You’re doing so perfect. Taking me like a dream. My dream." He emphasized this with another slow, deliberate roll of his hips deep, making you whimper, fresh tears welling. "Gonna make you come just like this. Gonna feel you milking my cock dry while you cry my name."

The praise, raw and filthy and tender all at once, combined with the unrelenting fullness and the devastating friction, shattered you completely. The coil snapped. Pleasure, a supernova erupting from your core. You screamed Jay’s name, a sound ripped from the depths of your soul, your body convulsing violently. Inside, your muscles clenched and fluttered around Jay’s cock in frantic, rhythmic spasms.

"God, look at you… so perfect. My good girl… spilling so sweet and hot." He watched, mesmerized, as your release painted his cock, his own arousal a heavy ache. "So much… You… you take it so beautifully." He leaned down, licking a hot, possessive stripe up the column of your throat, tasting salt and desperation. "All mine. Every damn drop."

You felt utterly liquefied, boneless and adrift on a sea of overwhelming sensation. The intensity of the climax left you gasping, a mixture of overwhelming pleasure and profound vulnerability. Jay’s words—"My good girl", "perfect", "beautiful"—echoed in the hollowed-out space inside you.

The aftershocks were still rippling through you, violent little tremors that made your thighs quiver against Jay’s ribs. Inside, the deep, stretched ache was profound, a constant throb where Jay’s thick cock remained buried to the hilt, pulsing faintly but still rigidly hard. You felt raw, flayed open, every nerve ending screaming in oversensitive protest. You whimpered, a high, broken sound, trying instinctively to squirm away from the overwhelming fullness, the relentless pressure against that tender, abused spot deep inside you.

"Easy now, baby," Jay murmured, his voice thick with arousal but laced with that terrifying control. His hands, large and impossibly strong, clamped down on your hips, pinning you flat against the mattress. There was no escape. "Not yet." He punctuated the words with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, grinding his cock impossibly deeper into that hypersensitive channel.

You cried out, a ragged sob tearing from your throat. Fresh tears welled instantly, spilling hot and fast down his chin. "Jay, please," you gasped, your voice shredded. "Too much… it’s too much… I can’t—"

"You will," Jay cut in, his tone dropping lower, rougher, brooking no argument. He leaned down, his sweat-slicked chest pressing against your trembling one, his breath hot on your ear. "Gotta hold on for me just a little longer, baby. Just like this." He emphasized his point with another grinding thrust, slow and deep and utterly devastating.

Your body arched involuntarily, a fresh wave of tears blurring your vision. The friction was agony and ecstasy fused into one unbearable sensation. Your oversensitive cunt fluttered wildly around the thick intrusion, trying to clench and push out simultaneously.

"Look at you," Jay rasped, his voice vibrating with lustful admiration. One hand slid up your sweat-slicked side, fingers pushing down your bra before finding a peaked nipple and pinching it sharply.

You yelped, the sharp jolt of pain-pleasure arcing straight to your pussy, making you twitch pathetically. "Crying so pretty because my cock’s still buried deep in your greedy little hole." Jay twisted the nipple again, harder. "Feel how full you are? Feel how I’m rock hard inside you? That’s because you feel too damn good, Y/N. Like heaven squeezed tight around me."

Suddenly, without breaking rhythm, Jay planted his hands firmly on the mattress on either side of your head. In one smooth, powerful motion, he pulled out just enough to flip you onto your stomach, then yanked your hips up high, pulling you onto your knees.

You gasped, the world tilting violently. Before you could fully register the shift, Jay was kneeling behind you, one large hand splayed possessively across the small of your back, pressing you down until your face was buried in the pillows and your round, perfect ass was presented high in the air. The cool air hitting your damp skin made you shiver. Then Jay was back inside you, plunging deep in one hard stroke that punched a strangled cry from your throat.

“Fuck!” You gasped into the pillowcase, the angle so much deeper, more invasive. Jay gripped your hips like vices, fingers digging into the flesh as he set a brutal, piston-like pace. Each powerful snap of his hips drove you forward. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room—wet, rhythmic, obscene.

Then came the sharp smack! Jay’s palm connected solidly with your left cheek, a stinging impact that bloomed into fierce heat. You yelped, the sound high and surprised.

Before the sting could fade, another slap landed on the other cheek, harder this time. “Look at you,” Jay growled, his voice thick with lust and ownership, punctuating his words with another searing slap that made you jerk against his hold. “Presenting this pretty ass just for me. Begging for it.”

The pain was sharp, bright but it melted instantly into a deep, throbbing warmth that spread through your core, tightening around Jay’s cock inside you. It wasn't just submission; it was a branding, a reminder of who owned this moment, this pleasure. You moaned, long and low, pushing your ass back harder into Jay’s thrusts, silently begging for more—more of the sting, more of the stretch, more of him.

"Jay… ah… feels so full," You gasped, your voice muffled by the sheets, fingers twisting desperately in the fabric. Jay’s answering groan was low and rough, vibrating through your body where your skin met.

He loved the way you felt under him, the way that tight pussy clung and fluttered around his shaft like a silken fist. But Jay was a man who appreciated slick perfection, who craved that obscene, wet slide. With a final, deep thrust that punched a choked sob from your throat, Jay pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the swollen head nestled against your stretched, glistening pussy. The sudden emptiness made you shudder violently, a needy keen rising from your chest.

"N-no… don’t stop…"

"Shh, baby," Jay murmured, his voice laced with dark promise. He reached for the bottle of cool, viscous lube. The snick of the cap opening was obscenely loud in the charged silence. You flinched slightly at the sudden chill as Jay squeezed a generous dollop directly onto his cock, the clear gel gleaming in the low light before he smoothed it down the rigid length with slow, deliberate strokes. The sight alone—Jay’s thick arousal slicked anew, veins standing proud—made you whimper in anticipation as you turned to look. But Jay wasn’t done.

Jay didn’t plunge back in immediately. Instead, he used his thumb and forefinger to gently, firmly, spread your pussy wider. The stretched cunt, already flushed and puffy from his earlier attentions, yielded further under the insistent pressure. Jay watched, mesmerized, as the tender pink flesh opened for him, quivering around nothing but air and his touch. He traced the hole, feeling the involuntary clench and release, before pressing the pad of his thumb just inside, stretching you that fraction more. You cried out, back arching sharply, pushing your ass back against Jay’s hand in a wordless plea.

"Look at you," Jay breathed, his own arousal a near-painful throb. "Opening up so pretty just for me. Taking my fingers like you were made for it." He withdrew his thumb slowly, leaving you gaping slightly, vulnerable and wanting. Then, without warning, Jay lined up the broad, slick crown of his cock against that loosened entrance. He didn’t ask. He didn’t tease. He simply leaned his weight forward, hips driving in one powerful, unrelenting thrust.

The stretch was immediate, intense, blissful. The fresh lube created an almost frictionless glide, yet the sheer girth of Jay forcing his way back into that channel was overwhelming.

Your cry shattered into a high-pitched wail as you were filled to the hilt in one smooth, deep stroke, Jay’s hips meeting the firm swell of your ass with a solid smack. The sensation was electrifying—the cool slickness mixing with the burning stretch, the incredible depth of penetration, the way Jay’s cock seemed to find every sensitive spot inside you with renewed vigor.

Jay groaned, a deep, guttural sound of pure satisfaction as he bottomed out, buried to the root in that clenching heat. He paused for a heartbeat, savoring the vice-like grip, the tremors wracking your frame beneath him. "Goddamn, baby," he rasped, his voice rough with lust. "So fucking tight… even lubed up… taking every inch like a good girl."

Then he began to move again, long, deep pulls almost all the way out before slamming back home with devastating force, each thrust aided gloriously by the abundant lube, creating a symphony of wet, rhythmic slaps and your broken, ecstatic sobs filling the sultry air.

The world narrowed to the slick slide of flesh on flesh, the desperate clutch of your body, and the relentless drive of Jay’s hips claiming you utterly.

Jay’s ragged breaths, the sharp smack of his hips meeting your ass, and beneath it all, that lewd, undeniable shlick-shlick-shlick that seemed to echo off the walls. You were folded nearly in half now, your back arched painfully, face pressed into the sweat-drenched sheets, Jay’s powerful thrusts driving you deeper onto the thick cock splitting you open.

Every withdrawal was a slick, sucking pull, every penetration a wet, forceful claim.

Jay paused, buried impossibly deep, grinding his hips in a slow, torturous circle that drew a choked sob from you. He pulled back almost entirely, the sound of slick muscle yielding echoing loudly, then slammed with brutal force.

"Listen to that, baby," Jay growled, his voice thick with dark, possessive delight. He repeated the motion—a hard, wet thrust that made you cry out. "Sounds so goddamn hungry," he rasped, leaning down to nip at the sweat-slicked nape of your neck. "Your sweet little pussy… sucking me back in like it’s starving. Begging for every inch.” He punctuated each word with another deep, grinding stroke. “So fucking wet… so greedy… taking my cock like it was made for you.” His hand slid possessively over the curve of your ass, fingers digging into the yielding flesh. “Music to my ears, baby. The sound of you being mine.”

You burned. The sound was humiliation incarnate—a visceral, undeniable testament to how thoroughly Jay had opened you, how desperate your own body had become for the invasion. You tried to muffle a whimper into the sheets but Jay’s hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back. “None of that,” Jay commanded, his voice a low rumble vibrating against your spine. “Want to hear it. I want to hear your sounds as I fuck you.” He resumed his pace, harder, faster, each powerful stroke accompanied by the wet slap of skin and the slick, internal glide. “God, it’s perfect… the sound of you being ruined.”

The relentless pounding, the filthy commentary focusing on that obscene sound, the overwhelming fullness stretching you—it ignited a terrifying pressure low in your belly again, a coil tightening despite the lingering, raw sensitivity from your first explosive release.

You felt flayed open, overstimulated, yet your traitorous body pushed back against Jay, seeking more depth. "P-please… Jay…" you gasped, the plea breaking into a ragged sob. "C-can't… too…"

"Can't?" Jay laughed, a dark, breathless sound. He didn't slow; instead, he angled his hips sharply, driving the thick head of his cock directly against your g-spot with precision.

"Hear that? That’s your body saying yes." He gripped your hips like a vice, holding you immobile for the brutal assault. "Look at you… tightening around me… dripping down your own thighs… begging for another peak with every wet, filthy sound you make." Jay leaned close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to a guttural whisper.

"You aren’t done, You. This sweet pussy wants to milk me dry while you come again, doesn't it? I want to feel it spasm around me while you scream."

The words, the relentless battering of your g-spot, the sheer, overwhelming ownership in Jay’s voice and the constant, lewd soundtrack of your joining—it shattered you completely.

Jay gave you three more sharp, stinging slaps in rapid succession—crack-crack-crack—each one landing on the flushed, heated skin, drawing another gasp or whimper that dissolved into a moan. He watched the flesh bloom pink under his hand, then leaned forward, draping his powerful torso over your arched back. “I want to see that face again, baby,” he breathed hotly. “I want to watch you come apart for me again.” In one fluid movement, still buried deep, he hooked an arm under your chest and hauled you backwards and upwards, flipping you onto your back once more amidst the tangle of sheets.

You landed with a soft oof, blinking dazedly up at Jay who immediately settled between your thighs again. The sudden shift in position sent fresh jolts of sensation through you—the loss of the deep penetration followed instantly by Jay sheathing himself fully again in this familiar cradle of your legs. Missionary felt different now—not softer, but more. More intimate after the animalistic possession of being taken from behind. Jay’s eyes, dark and hungry in the moonlight, locked onto you as he began to move again, a slower, rolling rhythm now, grinding deep rather than pounding.

“There you are,” Jay murmured, his voice husky as he braced himself on one forearm beside Your head. His free hand slid down your sweat-slicked flank, fingers trailing fire, before pressing firmly against your clit. The touch was electric after its neglect.

You cried out, your back arching off the bed as pleasure detonated up your spine—the sensation of Jay filling him completely and the tight friction around your clit was overwhelming. You could see Jay’s face now—the intensity in his gaze, the sweat beading on his brow, the taut lines of pleasure around his mouth as he watched you unravel beneath him.

Jay’s thumb swiped over your wet clit, setting a counter-rhythm to his deep pelvic rolls. The earlier sting on your ass was a warm echo, merging with the consuming heat building low in your belly. You clutched at Jay’s biceps, your breathing coming in desperate hitches as Jay moved inside you and fingers on your clit, driving you relentlessly towards the edge with slow, devastating expertise. The world narrowed to sweat-slick skin, locked gazes, and the relentless pulse of pleasure-pain-pleasure that Jay commanded with every deliberate stroke.

Jay stopped rubbing your clit with a low growl that vibrated through your core, Jay shifted his weight slightly. He didn’t break his deep, measured rhythm inside you but he lowered his head. His hands reached under your arched back, fingers finding your bra clasps. Your tits spilled out. His lips, hot and demanding, found the sensitive skin just below your collarbone first, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses upwards as he threw your bra somewhere in the room.

You gasped as Jay’s mouth closed over one peaked, coral nub.

The sensation was intense, a searing jolt of pure pleasure that arced straight from your nipple to your pussy and deep into your core where Jay was buried. Jay sucked firmly, his tongue swirling roughly over the tight bud, teeth grazing with just enough pressure to make you cry out sharply.

"Oh! Jay!" The sound was ragged, torn from your throat.

Jay released the nipple with a soft, wet pop, his breath hot on the damp skin. He immediately latched onto the other one, giving it the same lavish, relentless attention—sucking hard, lashing it with his tongue, nibbling the tender flesh around it. All while his hips maintained that devastatingly slow, deep motion inside you.

You felt overwhelmed, shattered. The sharp pull on your nipple sent shockwaves radiating outward, colliding violently with the deep, grinding pleasure blooming from your g-spot with every thrust. It was too much and not enough simultaneously. You felt like you were being unraveled from two directions, pleasure winding impossibly tight in your belly, threatening to snap again.

"Please... please..." You sobbed, unsure what you were begging for.

Instead of replying, Jay bent down to taste your skin again, the salty tang mixed with sweat, the way your nipple hardened impossibly further under Jay’s mouth, the choked cries falling from your lips—it was intoxicating. Feeling your inner muscles clamp down in reflexive spasms around his cock as he sucked harder was pure bliss. He kept alternating between nipples, lavishing each one with wet, hungry attention—sucking deeply, flicking the rigid tips with the point of his tongue, grazing them lightly with his teeth just to hear you gasp. He could feel you trembling violently beneath him, teetering on the very edge.

"Look at these pretty things," Jay rasped against your damp chest, lifting his head for a moment. His thumb and forefinger captured one abused nipple, rolling it firmly, pinching just shy of pain. You whimpered, your hips jerking helplessly. "So sensitive, baby. Making such sweet noises for me." He lowered his head again, sucking the captured peak back into the wet heat of his mouth with renewed vigor, humming low in his throat. The vibration traveled straight to your core.

The tight clutch of you around him was pure heaven—hot velvet gripping him with every thrust. But it was watching you come apart that truly undid Jay. The way your eyes fluttered shut only to snap open again to meet Jay's gaze as commanded; the way your mouth fell open on silent cries that gradually became desperate moans; the way your body arched and trembled with each deep stroke; the absolute trust and surrender written across your beautiful face… It was more erotic than anything Jay had ever experienced.

He maintained his slow, deep rhythm—long strokes designed to drag over your sweet spot relentlessly—pouring every ounce of his focus into wringing pleasure from the responsive body beneath him. "That's it... take me... so perfect... feel so good wrapped around me," he rasped between gritted teeth, fighting his own rising climax.

The pace remained unhurried but deepened in intensity. Jay shifted slightly, angling his hips to drive even harder against your g-spot with each powerful thrust. You cried out sharply, your back bowing off the bed as pleasure crashed over you in relentless waves.

The slow, grinding rhythm that Jay went back to was torture. Exquisite, soul-scorching torture. Jay’s thick cock dragged against that devastatingly sensitive spot inside you with every deep, rolling thrust. You were pinned, utterly, by Jay’s weight, by the intensity in those dark eyes fixed unwaveringly on his face, by the relentless pleasure tightening low in your belly.

"Look at me." Jay rasped, his voice thick. Sweat dripped from his jaw onto your heaving chest. "I can feel you clenching around me, baby. Getting close again, aren’t you?" His finger pressed hard against your weeping cunt, rubbing in tight little circles that made your hips jerk helplessly. A high, keening whine escaped your throat, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of Jay’s arms.

Jay leaned down, his breath hot and damp against your ear. "That’s right, baby girl. Let me feel it. Squeeze that pretty little pussy around my cock." His words were pure filth, delivered in that low drawl that sent shivers down your spine far more potent than any slap. "Gonna make you cum all over again. Gonna watch you lose every last bit of that pretty control." He punctuated the words with a sharp rub on your clit and grinding thrust that rubbed against your g-spot.

The filthy praise, the relentless stimulation—it ignited something desperate and bold in you.

You met Jay’s burning gaze, his own eyes wide and dark with need. "Jay," you gasped, your voice ragged but surprisingly strong, laced with a raw hunger that matched Jay’s own.

"Feels… feels so good. Your cock… God, it’s so deep." You arched, pushing your hips up. "Make me come. Please. I want to feel it… want to feel you cum inside me." Your words tumbled out, breathless and thick with desire. "Need it. Need you to ruin me."

Your first explosive release felt like a distant memory against the fresh tsunami of sensation crashing over you. Overstimulation was a live wire under your skin, every deep, grinding thrust of Jay’s thick cock sparking shocks of almost-painful pleasure through your core.

Jay’s eyes flared, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "That’s my good girl," he growled, his thrusts gaining a fraction more force. "Tell me how bad you need it. Tell me how bad you want to be filled."

You moaned, the sound long and low, vibrating in your chest. "So bad," you panted. "Need it so badly. Harder. Please, Jay. want to come on your cock again… I want to feel you own this pussy." You gasped as Jay’s finger pressed harder, his rhythm becoming punishing. "Yes! Just like that! Feels like you’re coming right up to my stomach!" The crude, desperate words spilled from you, fueled by the overwhelming sensations and Jay’s filthy encouragement. "Gonna come… Jay, I’m gonna—"

It was too much. The friction on his cock, the deep, internal pressure, the filthy dialogue echoing between you—shattered you completely. Your back arched violently off the bed, a raw cry tearing from your lips as your pussy pulsed violently around Jay’s cock.

The orgasm ripped through you, wave after wave of blinding, white-hot pleasure that had your vision spotting, your thighs trembling uncontrollably against Jay. You clenched around Jay’s cock with desperate, rhythmic pulses that had your entire body convulsing. "Yesss! Feels… feels so good! Take it! Take all my come!" you babbled, lost in the ecstatic haze, your words dissolving into incoherent moans as the spasms wracked you.

"Fuck yes!" Jay roared, his own control snapping as he felt your inner walls clamp down and flutter around him like a tight fist. He watched, mesmerized and utterly wrecked, as your face contorted in ecstasy, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, your mouth open in a silent scream of release. "Look at that," he panted, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, more frantic, chasing his own peak. "Look at you taking it so fucking well. Gonna give you what you want, baby."

He leaned his forehead against yours, your sweat mingling, his breath ragged gasps against your lips. "Gonna breed you full," he promised, his voice guttural, primal. "Gonna pump my come so deep inside you, you’ll feel it leaking out for hours. Marking you mine. Gonna fill that greedy little pussy till it’s dripping."

You, still shuddering through the blinding aftershocks, hypersensitive and trembling, felt Jay’s rhythm stutter. A deep, guttural groan ripped from Jay’s chest, raw and possessive. He slammed home one final, devastating time, burying himself to the hilt, his hips grinding hard against your ass. You gasped, the overstimulation a sharp, sweet agony. You clenched down hard, milking Jay deep, urging him on even as your own body quivered with spent sensitivity.

Jay’s powerful body locked, rigid, trembling with the force of his climax. "Mine!" he snarled, the word a vow. Hot, thick pulses erupted deep inside you, flooding his walls with wave after wave of scalding release. Jay held himself impossibly deep, grinding, his fingers tightening almost painfully in your hair as he emptied himself completely.

You whimpered, the sensation of being filled, of feeling Jay’s cock jerk and swell within you, pushing you into a secondary, smaller peak of pure, overwhelmed sensation. "Yours," you breathed, the word a ragged sigh against Jay’s sweat-slicked skin. "All yours. So full… so full of you."

Jay stayed buried deep, his release still pulsing weakly, for long, breathless moments, his forehead pressed to yours. Then, slowly, the tension bled out of him. He collapsed forward, his weight a comforting, anchoring pressure, wrapping his arms tightly around your trembling form. He pulled you flush against his sweat-slicked chest, one big hand cradling the back of your head, fingers tangling in your damp hair. The other arm locked possessively around your waist, holding you close as if he’d never let go. You could feel the frantic hammering of Jay’s heart against your own, the hot puff of his breath against his temple, the unmistakable, thick wetness already beginning to seep from your well-used entrance.

"Jesus, Y/N," Jay murmured, his voice utterly wrecked, softened now into something tender, awed. He pressed a rough, lingering kiss to your forehead. "You take me so damn good. Talk so pretty for me." His thumb stroked gently along your jawline, wiping away a stray tear track. You, utterly spent, melted into the embrace, the sharp sting on your ass, the deep, satisfying ache inside you and the lingering echo of your own filthy pleas merging into a profound sense of being utterly claimed, utterly held, utterly his. Jay’s low, rumbling breaths against your ear were the only sound in the room, a lullaby after the storm of your shared, vocal abandon. You clung to him, utterly spent, tears still leaking silently onto Jay’s skin.

"Shhh, baby," Jay murmured, his voice thick with affection now, the earlier roughness gone. He pressed a tender kiss to your sweat-damp temple, his large hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. "You did so good. So damn good for me." He kissed your forehead, then your eyelids, tasting the salt of your tears. "Took everything I gave you. My perfect, beautiful girl." He held you close, letting the frantic pulse slow, the tremors subside into exhausted stillness. You mumbled something incoherent against his chest, a sound of pure, drained contentment.

After a while, when your breathing had deepened and evened, Jay shifted. "Come on, baby," he said softly. "Let’s get you cleaned up." He slid one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. You looped your arms loosely around Jay’s neck, nestling your head against his shoulder, utterly pliant. Jay carried you through the dim apartment into the bathroom. He set you down gently on the closed toilet lid, kissing your forehead again before turning on the shower, adjusting the water to a comfortably warm spray.

Stepping under the cascading water together was a blissful contrast. Jay guided you under the spray, letting the warmth sluice away the sweat, lube and sticky evidence of their passion. He took his time, his touch reverent now. He soaped up a soft washcloth and gently cleaned your chest, your stomach—handling you with a tenderness that made you sigh and lean into him.

Jay turned you carefully, his hands sliding over the smooth planes of your back, down to the swell of your ass. You winced slightly as Jay’s fingers traced the faint, blossoming bruises already forming on your skin from the force of Jay’s grip and thrusts. Jay murmured an apology, kissing the nape of your neck. "My marks on you," he breathed, his voice thick with a possessive sort of pride. "Proof you’re mine. That you took me so beautifully." He washed your bruised cheeks with extra care, his touch feather-light.

He rinsed you both thoroughly, then reached for a towel. Wrapping you in its soft warmth, he patted you dry with the same gentle attention. Standing close in the steamy bathroom, Jay tilted your chin up. Your eyes met—Yous still hazy with exhaustion and lingering pleasure, Jay’s dark and filled with a fierce, protective warmth. Jay leaned down slowly, capturing your lips in a deep, lingering kiss. It wasn't hungry like before; it was soft, slow, a reaffirmation. You melted into it, your arms tightening around Jay’s waist.

Jay pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against Yours. "So damn proud of you, You," he murmured. "My strong, gorgeous girl. Took my cock like a dream, came thrice for me..." He kissed you again, softly.

"Made me feel so damn good." He traced a thumb over your kiss-swollen bottom lip. "Now let's get you back to bed, baby. Let me hold you." He scooped you back into his arms, carrying you tenderly back to the cleaned sheets, the bruises on your ass a testament to the intensity and Jay’s murmured praises a soothing balm against your skin.

A profound stillness settled over you, deeper than mere exhaustion. It was a liquid warmth spreading from your core outward, a buzzing contentment that made your very bones feel soft. Every nerve ending, so recently screaming with pleasure, now hummed a low, satisfied thrum. You felt claimed in the gentlest way possible—Jay’s heartbeat, a steady drum against your ear, the heavy weight of Jay’s arm draped possessively over your waist.

A small, utterly relaxed sigh escaped you, your fingers tracing idle patterns against Jay’s sternum. The sharp sensitivity had softened into a pervasive glow, leaving you feeling cherished and impossibly safe. You nuzzled instinctively into the hollow of Jay’s throat, breathing in the unique scent of him—cedarwood, musk and something profoundly yours now.

Holding you like this, feeling you melt completely against him, was its own kind of satisfaction. The fierce protectiveness that had driven him during your lovemaking hadn’t dissipated; it had merely transformed into a deep, nurturing tenderness.

He felt the cooling on your skin, the slight tremble still ghosting through your muscles, the absolute trust in the way you curled into Jay’s body. A fierce wave of affection washed over him, mingling with the profound contentment settling in his own spent limbs.

He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, the kiss lingering and sweet. The silence wasn’t empty; it was rich with unspoken understanding, a comfortable communion deeper than words. He gently stroked the smooth plane of your back, tracing the bumps of your spine with infinite care.

"Alright there, baby?" Jay asked softly, his hand resuming its slow, rhythmic stroke down your back. His thumb brushed over the delicate skin. "Didn't push too far?"

You tilted his head back to look up at him. Jay’s eyes were dark pools in the lamplight, softened with concern and residual heat. There was no urgency there now, only deep, patient regard. "No," You breathed, your voice still husky but clear. "It was... perfect, Jay. Really." You searched Jay’s face, needing him to understand. "You were perfect."

A slow, genuine smile spread across Jay’s lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He leaned down and captured your lips in a slow, lingering kiss—no demand, only sweetness and shared breath. It tasted like comfort and quiet affirmation.

"Good," Jay whispered against his mouth when you parted. "Just wanted to make sure my pretty girl felt good all the way through." He brushed a stray lock of hair from your damp forehead. "Thirsty? I can get you some water."

The offer, simple yet deeply thoughtful, made your heart squeeze. You nodded. "Yes, please," you murmured, a small smile playing on his own lips. "Water sounds good."

Jay pressed one more kiss to your temple before carefully disentangling himself. You instantly missed his warmth but watching him pad naked across the room towards the adjoining bathroom. The sight of him—powerful frame moving with such easy grace even now, the play of lamplight on the defined muscles of his back and shoulders—sent a fresh, lazy pulse of desire through your veins, tempered by profound satisfaction.

Jay returned moments later with a tall glass of cool water. He didn't hand it over immediately. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed and gently helped you sit up enough to drink, supporting you with an arm around your shoulders. You drank gratefully, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Jay watched you with that same soft intensity, taking the glass when he was done and setting it aside.

"Better?" Jay asked, easing you back down against the pillows before sliding in beside you again. He immediately drew you close, molding your bodies together once more beneath the sheet.

"Much," You sighed, nestling your head back onto Jay’s shoulder. The rain outside provided a soft drone, a lullaby to your shared stillness. The frantic energy of desire had settled into a deep, glowing ember. Jay’s fingers trailed lightly over your arm again, then up to trace the shell of your ear with infinite gentleness.

"Get some rest now," Jay murmured, his voice dropping to a sleep-roughened whisper that vibrated comfortingly through your body. "I got you." His hand settled possessively on your hip beneath the sheet, a grounding weight. "Always gonna take care of you."

You closed your eyes, letting the words sink into your bones like warm syrup. The solid presence beside you, the lingering scent of your intimacy mixed with clean cotton, the utter feeling of safety and being cherished… it wove a spell deeper than any exhaustion. You drifted on the edge of sleep, feeling Jay’s breath even out beside you, your bodies a tangled promise in the soft night. It wasn't just aftercare; it was the first quiet verse of something new and profoundly sweet, built on the foundation of shared fire and tender understanding. As sleep finally claimed you, you knew with bone-deep certainty that you were exactly where you belonged.

[jngwonu]

loser jake losing his virginity to you and it turns out to be the best sex you’ve ever had

警告: loser jake, size kink, dumbification, pussy drunk jakey, tutor Jake 𝒱… loser Jake is very important to me.

Sim jaeyun x fem reader

Jake who swears he’s still a virgin because he’s just focusing on his school work but in reality his body freezes up when a pretty girl sits next to, let alone when he has to fuck one.

Just goes home to jerk off to the memory of what the girls tits felt like when they grazed his chest, and he knows how depraved he is when he will get off to the simplest touches.

Cock leaking when he’s tutoring you and he gets a glance of your thongs hanging on your hips—“is it right?” You ask him snapping him out of his haze “oh! Um yea- yeah that’s right” he says mumbling the last part not even looking at the maths paper in front of him. You smile biting your lips noticing the way he starters and keeps on shifting in his seat “you know there’s other ways I could pay you for tutoring me” you start, putting a hand on his thigh dangerously close to his bulge “if you’d like.” Jake lets out a pathetic little whimper when your warm hand makes contact with his tense thigh “how?”

And he’s BIG like the type of stretch that has you roll your eyes back as he slowly pushes it in “like this? NGH” you coukdnt control the desperate moans slipping out of your mouth as you nodding your head. “Shi-it” he moaned soft,y when he swathes himself all the way in, cock disappearing between your pussy walls. “Fuckkk’ he lets out a guttural groan when your warm clench down on him. Face hot from all the blushing he’s done, whole body lit up.

“I’ve never done this before-“ he hiccups “Fuckfuckfuck you feel so tight—ahh!” too fucked out to notice how your practically about to cum all over him form just how full you feel, moaning prairies as he fucks his cock back into you so good. “Please let me cum inside-“ there’s tears streaming down his face as he babbles “please-ill, fuck please let me cum inside please” he angels his hips tip grazing your cervix “I’ll be so good” breathy moans escaping his lips drawn between his teeth “I’ll be so good” he whispers again. You do your head as you continue to get fucked dumb. He cums inside with a loud moan “thank you thank you thank you—“ who knew such a loser has a monster cock?

© honnipies

[jngwonu]

For some stupid reason, you thought letting your boyfriend fuck your best friend would be harmless—a weirdly selfless gift, nothing more. But when it breaks something in you, Sunghoon starts playing dirtier than ever. He says he did it for you, but now he won’t let you forget who he belongs to—or who you belong to.

nsfw warnings: SMUT, voyeurism, dub-con elements, manipulation, possessiveness, jealousy, toxic dynamics, rough sex, kind of orgasm denial, creampie, breeding kink, degradation + praise, crying, angst, emotional aftermath, mention of infidelity (consensual), very toxic sunghoon, reader spirals, unhealthy coping, manhandling, makeup sex, light coercion vibes.

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You're sitting cross-legged on the bed, heart pounding as you say it. "I was just thinking...maybe you could sleep with her? Just once. She hasn't had good sex in a while and—well, you're amazing. Who better than you, right?" There's a long, terrifying pause. Sunghoon doesn't even look up from where he's lazily scrolling through his phone. His face stays unreadable, but the way his thumb slows gives him away.

He finally speaks. Quiet. Calm. "Say that again."

You hesitate. "I just...want her to have good sex. And you—" He puts his phone down.

"You want me," he says slowly, voice flat, "to fuck your best friend."

"Just once," you whisper. "It wouldn't mean anything. I trust you—"

"I'm not a charity service, baby," he interrupts, tone dangerously low. "You think I'll fuck someone just because you feel bad she's not getting laid?"

You shrink a little under his stare, but he doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. There's a different kind of heat in his eyes now—darker, colder. "I don't share," he says simply. "Not you. Not me."

His fingers hook your chin, making you meet his gaze. "She can find her own dick. Mine belongs to you."

Then, after a pause, he leans in, lips brushing your ear.

"But the fact you even asked..." he murmurs, voice dropping to a whisper, "means I'm not fucking you hard enough. You're not loving it enough, since you just wanna share me with some girl."

It was two days after you suggested it, two days after he'd shut it down. You thought the quiet way he dismissed it meant it was over.

But now he's randomly brought it up again and being weirdly open to it.

"So...does she like it rough?" Sunghoon asks casually, flipping through a glass of water like it's wine. "Or would she want to be on her back the whole time?"

You freeze. "What?"

"Your best friend," he says smoothly, lifting his eyes to yours with an unreadable look. "You never told me what she's into."

"I—I don't know," you stammer, heart tripping. "She doesn't talk about that stuff much."

Sunghoon hums, standing from the kitchen stool and slowly walking toward you. You shift where you're sitting on the couch, suddenly unsure of everything.

"She's cute," he adds. "Not as pretty as you. But I get it now. You didn't just want her to have good sex. You wanted her to know what it's like with me."

You flinch, looking down. "That's not—"

"You already told her, didn't you?"

Your mouth opens, then shuts.

"You did," he smirks. "Told her you'd let me fuck her. Made her all curious. She's probably been thinking about it nonstop."

He crouches in front of you now, brushing his fingers lightly up your thigh. "Are you thinking about it, baby?"

You blink, mouth dry. "I thought...you said you don't share."

"I don't," he murmurs, lips ghosting over your knee. "But you do. You offered me like a gift. So why wouldn't I enjoy it?"

Something sharp twists in your gut. You feel cold. Distant. You don't know whether you're imagining the heat in his voice or if he's really enjoying this—planning it—taunting you.

"Are you jealous?" he whispers, tilting his head. "You can say no. We don't have to do it."

But now, if you say no, you'll look insecure. Possessive. Dramatic. And you'd already told her. You'd already told her.

You manage a smile. "No...I'm fine."

Sunghoon's lips curl. "Good."

But the way his hand slides up your leg, slow and possessive, tells you something else—this was never about your friend. This was about reminding you exactly who he belongs to. And what happens when you forget.

You genuinely didn't think it would happen. You honestly thought he'd back out, maybe he was just teasing you. But now you're sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed, tense, trying not to fall apart, while your best friend stands a few feet away looking unsure and nervous, arms crossed over her chest.

Sunghoon is the only one comfortable. He sits back on the bed, legs spread, shirt off, calm like he's about to conduct a goddamn seminar. "She's shy," he muses, eyes flicking over your friend. "Not like you."

You tense. "Hoon..."

He ignores the warning in your voice.

"You're such a slut for me, baby. Always dripping. Always begging." His voice is soft. Fond, even. "She's scared to even look at me. It's weird."

You glance at your friend. She's biting her lip, unsure, flushed. This was your idea. You told her it was okay. Encouraged it. So now you can't say anything.

Sunghoon's hand reaches out, coaxing her forward, and she goes, slow and hesitant. She settles between his legs as he leans back on his hands, watching her. You want to look away, but you can't.

You shouldn't be here.

But Sunghoon insisted. "Sit there," he'd said earlier, pointing to the chair across from the bed. "I want you to watch."

It was supposed to be just sex. It was supposed to be for her. But the moment she gasps—really gasps—as he finally pushes inside her, you feel your stomach twist. She moans loud, thighs trembling around his hips, and Sunghoon just exhales through his nose, like he's savoring it.

"Shit," he mutters. "She's tight."

She nods helplessly, eyes fluttering shut, head falling back. It's too much for her, the way he moves—deep, slow, dragging his cock against every sensitive spot until her breath comes out in choked, trembling cries. You can tell she's never been fucked like this. She sounds like she's about to cry. From how good it feels.

And that's when you realize—he's not even looking at her. His eyes are on you. The entire time.

His jaw tightens slightly as she clenches around him, his pace picking up just enough to make her sob. But his eyes don't leave your face—not for a second.

And then you move. Just a little. Rising to stand. His voice cuts through the air like a blade.

"Don't you dare." You freeze.

"Sit. Back. Down." He says, punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips, shoving his cock into her sopping hole.

You sit.

His hips snap harder now, making her cry out again, and your heart is in your throat. This isn't for her. It never was. This is some form of punishment. A game.

He leans in, lips ghosting against your friend's ear as he whispers something low you can't hear. She nods weakly, breath hitching. And then he finally smiles—sharp, satisfied, dangerous—and murmurs your name without looking away.

"You wanted this, didn't you?"

Her fingers are trembling. Her moans are breathy and scattered like she doesn't know what to do with them.

Sunghoon has her knees spread wide, one hand around her thigh, the other pressing firm into her lower belly, right where she's most sensitive.

You're sitting there. Still and frozen. You don't even think you've blinked once. "You're doing so good," he murmurs—gently, like he's never spoken to anyone else that way before. "Just breathe. You're almost there."

You hate how good he sounds at it. How practiced and sweet.

Her eyes squeeze shut. Then they open—and for one second, they meet yours across the room. She looks ashamed of how good it feels.

And that's when she breaks. She cries out as her body arches, a full-body shudder making her hips jolt in his hands. She grabs at his wrist, her breath hitching.

"Oh—oh my God!—Sunghoon! Y/n!—thank you!"

It slips out, soft and breathless. Like she means it. Like you both just gave her some fucked up present. Sunghoon only hums, rubbing her through the aftershocks.

You can't breathe as you watch her pull her skirt up with shaking fingers. Avoiding your gaze completely.

You manage a smile when she glances your way. You nod, say something stupid—"Want me to walk you out?"—and she declines, says she's okay. Grabs her keys with shaky hands and hurries out the door.

The second it closes, you walk into the kitchen with no direction. Open the fridge. Close it. Open a drawer. Shut it.

Sunghoon appears behind you a moment later. "Okay. You're gonna act like that now?"

You stiffen. "Like what?"

He scoffs. "You're mad."

You turn around with an empty glass in your hand just to avoid clenching your fists instead.

"I'm not mad."

"Really? So what is this then? Hm? You being weird and quiet and pissed for no reason?"

You shove past him.

He follows. "Don't do that, baby. Don't be fucking rude to me when this was your idea. You asked me to fuck her. You asked me to make her feel good."

"What? You expected me to give her bad sex?"

"You didn't have to enjoy it," you snap, voice cracking. "You could've at least pretended like it wasn't that good."

His jaw clenches, and then—he laughs. It's not amused. It's bitter. Sharp. "Enjoy it?"

You flinch at the way he repeats it.

"You think I fucking enjoyed it?"

You fold your arms across your chest, looking away, but he steps in. Closer. You feel the heat coming off his body before you even register his hand catching yours.

He grabs your wrist—firm, not rough—and drags your hand straight to the front of his sweats, pressing it hard against the thick, unrelenting bulge beneath the fabric.

Your breath stutters.

"Does this feel like I enjoyed it?"

His voice is low. Laced with frustration. A different kind of ache.

"You think I got off?" he hisses, pushing your palm harder into the shape of him. "I didn't. Not a fucking drop. You think I gave her what I give you? I couldn't."

Your hand twitches, but he holds it there.

"I was hard the entire time. Still am," he mutters, eyes locked on yours. "My balls fucking hurt."

And it does. You can feel it—hot and heavy, straining against the fabric. His dick is pulsing under your palm, like it's begging for a release that never came.

"I wanted you the entire time," he says. "You. You had me riled up before I even touched her."

You finally yank your hand back, like it burned you. Like you don't know what to do with it anymore.

He exhales sharply. "I should've told you it was a bad idea," he mutters. "But I didn't. And now we're both fucked up over it."

The silence after his words hangs heavy, your hand retreating like it betrayed you, but the ghost of that contact still lingers between you.

You don't say anything.

You can't.

Sunghoon's eyes stay locked on yours—dark, stormy, searching—and then he tilts his head, stepping in slowly like you're a skittish thing he's trying not to spook.

"You're not gonna touch me?" His voice is low and quiet, but there's something mocking under the softness. A cruel kind of pout.

He brushes the back of his fingers along your jaw, then dips his face down, nuzzling your cheek with the bridge of his nose, his breath fanning warm over your skin.

"Hm? After all that, you're just gonna stand there?" he whispers. "You're not gonna help me?"

You turn your face away, refusing to meet his eyes, but that only makes him more relentless. He grabs your hand again, gentler this time, but still firm and guides it down slowly. Over the front of his waistband. Beneath the elastic of his sweats.

You feel the heat of him first, the slickness from how long he's been leaking, and then—him. Thick. Rock-hard. Twitching.

He groans, quiet but guttural the moment your fingers wrap around him. His hips stutter forward like he couldn't help it even if he tried. "Fuck, baby..."

He rests his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. "You feel what you do to me?" he breathes. "You think she got me like this?"

You're still frozen. But your hand—your traitorous, aching hand—tightens around him just slightly, and the sound he makes is sinful. Starving. "Go ahead," he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth with maddening restraint. "Take it. Do whatever you want. Hurt me, make me beg, punish me—just don't walk away."

Your hand stays wrapped around him, sticky and warm inside his sweats, but your expression sharpens—cold and unreadable now.

He said anything. So you truly act like it.

Without a word, you wrap your fingers tighter around the base of him, gripping hard enough to make his breath hitch.

Then you yank him forward by his dick. His body follows instantly, helpless to resist. He lets out a broken groan, stumbling after you like a man under spell. You march him toward the bedroom without looking back, ignoring the way his cock is tenting now—angry and leaking.

The second you're in the room, you shove him. He falls back onto the bed with a laugh—low, wrecked, way too pleased. "Fuck yeah, baby," he groans, spreading his thighs as you crawl over him, pinning him down with nothing but your stare. "You gonna fuck me on the same bed I just made your best friend cum all over?"

The words sting. Your stomach twists. You hesitate for half a second. Then your hand flies to his jaw. "Shut the fuck up."

He grins like he lives for this, almost like he's wanted this version of you all along. You straddle him fully now, grinding down, not to tease him, but to use him. His hands grip your thighs, but you slap them away.

"Don't touch me unless I tell you to," you hiss, voice trembling with anger you can't hide anymore.

"Yes, ma'am," he breathes, absolutely wrecked. "Whatever you want." But he's smiling, smirking even, like he already knows you're not really in control. Like he's just playing along.

And you don't realize it until it's too late.

Because the second you sink down onto him—tight, slow, making sure he feels every inch of how much he missed—his hands fly back to your hips. Gripping. Holding. Locking you in place.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, eyes fluttering shut like he's seeing god. You brace your palms on his chest, ready to ride him into the mattress, to take from him like he said you could but then his hips buck up hard. In one thrust, deep and mean.

You gasp, nails digging into his skin, but before you can protest, he's already doing it again—rolling his hips in slow, punishing strokes that reach everywhere.

You try to ride him like your pride depends on it, hips snapping forward, teeth clenched, trying to stay in control even as he grips your waist tighter with every thrust from below. It's filthy. Loud. Desperate. You try to slap his chest to get him to stop, but he catches your wrist mid-swing, pinning it behind you as he sits up, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

But the second you start clenching around him—tight, fluttering—he loses it.

"Fuck—fuck, baby—gonna cum—" he growls, burying his face in your chest, almost motorboating as his whole body tenses beneath you.

You feel the heat of it—his cock twitching deep inside, thick spurts filling you as he moans into your skin. His arms tremble, back arching, and for a second, you think it's over.

That you won. But before your brain can even catch up, he flips you—manhandles you—onto your stomach like your body weighs nothing. You gasp into the sheets, dazed, already overstimulated.

He doesn't even give you a second to adjust. Because he's still hard.

"Hoonie—" you pant, twisting under him.

"Did you think I was finished?" he hisses, lining himself up again, one hand braced on the bed beside your head. "You really thought one round was enough for that fucking stunt you pulled?"

He thrusts in again, harder this time.

You scream into the pillow, legs shaking as his pace turns punishing.

"You'll never offer me to anyone again," he growls, breath hot in your ear. "Not after I'm done with you. You hear me?"

You can't even answer. You're falling apart beneath him.

"Say it," he demands, slamming into you again. "Tell me whose dick this is."

"M-Mine!" you cry out, voice muffled. "It's mine, only mine—!"

"That's right," he snarls, slapping your ass before gripping your hip again, deep and brutal. "Yours. Always."

════════════════════════════

• a/n: where did this even come from?😭 this is kind of like a glimpse of what goes on in my head cause i love toxic relationship drama🤧

[jngwonu]

HACKER!STEPBRO HEESEUNG - TRAPPED.

The one where your antisocial stepbro pretends he's not obsessed—while secretly hacking you, jerking off to your secrets, and discovering about your desire. He’s obsessed… And you'll use it.

BEST TO READ IN DARK MODE FOR EFFECTS

CONTENT ↠ nsfw! mdni!, smut, angsty toxic Heeseung, obsessive, psychosexual dark vibes step bro Heeseung, stalker heeseung, if I can't have you no one can typpa heeseung, deep voyeurism kink, needy/pervy/manipulative reader, strong depiction of fantasies, sexual tension, consensual edging, p in the v, overstimulation, , light choking, public act, bad behavior's reader.

WORDCOUNT ↠ 9k (not proof read enough.. damn...)

Was literally obsessed with those two songs when writing this : https://open.spotify.com/intl-fr/album/4OFZVvqlg84Czl7td7XddK?si=rakigTTnSJyY8CnPyp8A7w

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Heeseung barely glanced up the first time you met.

Not when your mom introduced you, her laugh sharp and grating over the clink of designer glassware. Not when she called you her little angel, like she hadn’t spent the last decade ignoring your existence—like a piece of cloth begging to be brought back just because it’s trendy now. And definitely not when you smiled at him like you actually meant it.

He just slouched further into his hoodie—hood up, sleeves covering half his hands like armor. Said something that might’ve been “hey,” but it sounded more like: I don’t give a shit.

You smiled anyway. Quiet, composed. Like you didn’t notice he hadn’t met your eyes yet, hadn’t even registered the color of his irises. He had a good face, for sure. And a nice name. Heeseung. Hee—seung.

Let’s try not to forget it…

He’s Heeseung—the one who doesn't match the luxury flooring or manicured smiles. Heeseung, who looked more interested in his phone screen than the pricey piece of steak he’d just been served.

You—

You were different. And Heeseung noticed.

Because other girls—especially the daughters of his father’s revolving door of Stepford wives—always played the same game: almost flirty, too fake, self-obsessed, and excited to be part of the family.

You… you were calmer. Almost shy. Ashamed to even call your mom “Mom.” You were also interested in his presence—lightly tapping his foot with yours, giving him those apologetic doe eyes, like: Sorry that my shameless mom got a grip on your already-married dad just to milk him dry…

But it’s not like he divorced his mom for yours. And it’s not like you were the first one. Generally, the other step-siblings never asked about him. Never cared to know what lay beneath the hoodie-tortured-kid style he wore like armor.

You?

You looked at him like he was a person. Like you saw something he didn’t even believe was still there.

And with months—and then a year—maybe… you liked what you saw.

You asked questions. Not the fake kind. Real ones.

“You coded that game on your own?”

“You really won a national contest?”

“That glitch mechanic you added… did you write it from scratch?”

He wasn’t used to that kind of attention. Not anymore.

You leaned over his laptop one afternoon, wide-eyed, genuinely impressed. Your breath was warm on his shoulder, the scent of vanilla and soft detergent clinging to your hoodie—one he was almost sure used to be his.

“You’re kind of a genius,” you’d said, and smiled that smile. Soft. Easy. Like you weren’t afraid of him.

Because why would you be? You were always so nice and caring to him. You’d bring him a plate of food when his dad never cared to check even once. Leave Post-its with sweet pep talks before exams—ones that made him smile for the first time in a decade. Sit silently beside him after he got scolded for placing second on the honor board. Your hand, always soft and peach-scented, would stroke his hair like he wasn’t eight months older. And your eyes—so sweet when they met his.

You weren’t supposed to make him feel things.

And he wasn’t supposed to want someone like you.

But there you were. Not just prim—but infuriatingly so. You weaponized it. You made being stuck-up look like a goddamn virtue. All perfect posture and polite smiles. Still, something was off. Like how you made him open up to you, but never really talked about yourself—your life, your past. Always mysterious, always evasive when he got curious, always turning the tables on him.

You… you made him feel watched. Seen. Known.

And he didn’t like not knowing you back. Because he needed to know everything. It was pathological. Every variable that could disturb his life. Every secret.

And you—you were the unknown variable. The only one he couldn’t figure out.

And the worst part?

Heeseung couldn’t match you. He wasn’t good with people. Never had been. Getting you to open up? Never happening. He even got tense in crowds. Even if girls liked him, he couldn't maintain relationships beyond hookups. He could throw a punch, sure—but he'd rather let the other guy walk off with a smirk, too bored to bother.

But he was good at something: systems. Code. Surveillance.

So he broke the rules he’d promised himself he wouldn’t—with you.

He hacked your devices.

He shouldn’t have connected to them. Shouldn’t have hijacked your phone. Shouldn’t have hacked your webcam feed like it was just another game level to conquer.

It started innocent—ish. Really. Just some harmless digital snooping. New mother, new stepsister, weird vibes, potential threat to his peace and privacy—totally justifiable.

But your passwords were laughable. The kind of thing a middle schooler could crack.

Seriously. “Bookworm123”?

Please.

After all he was Mr. Cybersecurity Prodigy. Award-winning code monkey. VPN for his VPN, two-factor-auth god.

And he peeked. Just a little…

Your instagram private account, that your mom swore you didn’t have because “socials medias was too destructive for her future doctor of a child.”

Your spotify. Pinterest boards. You’re files.

like essays about behavioral neuroscience and a note named “journaling” : Plans. Rage. Angry rebellion written between textbook reviews. Your escape plan : college far away, control of your own life, zero influence from Barbie and her string of Stepdads. How you craved more. Your identity crisis, GPA fetishist, and how competitive you were to the point of mania. Basically, a mirror of Heeseung in the shape of someone who tried to play the hero of his narrative.

Then, it got worse.

Because curiosity became fixation. He was too deep for it not to be.

On sleepless nights, Heeseung discovered things he absolutely shouldn't.

That his straight A’s and volunteering hours stepsister — was actually sneaking off to frat party with her friends, just feel alive, get waisted and let some sophomore finger her.

The music you fall asleep to, your “fuck” playlist too — the one you wouldn’t admit to owning even under threat of death.

That habit of yours to flirt with strangers like you had a death wish or just want to be ruined so badly being jailed would be for your own good. 

That you send cropped pics, no face — just enough tits and thighs, to creeps then ghost them when they beg to meet, just to feel seen.

And he knew the kind of porn you watched on school nights, after wishing him sweet dreams. Earphones on, lips between your t-shirt collar like you’re scared someone might hear you in that big mansion. And what killed him is how fucking rough it is. Spit. Hair-pulling. Throat-fucking. Girls like you weren’t supposed to want that. Girls like you were supposed to blush and look away, like when he got too close. You’re supposed to be horrified at things like that — not get off to it at 1:38 a.m.

He discovered your texts with that secret boyfriend of yours. How badly he treated you—and how you let him, just to feel owned, loved. He knew when you snuck in those late-night FaceTimes, shirt half-off, hand between your thighs, playing the loyal girlfriend for him and his pathetic dick.

And Heeseung? He was obsessed with that version of you—the one he didn’t even dare to fantasize about, yet you handed to him on a silver plate.

Your self-care sessions got him hard under his desk. Got him jerking off to the way your fingers curled around your own throat in the dim hue of your bedroom, playing at power, pretending you didn’t crave being broken open.

You were too good at pretending. Sitting across from him, blouse crisp, smiling like a poetry award was the climax of your week.

What a goddamn lie.

But at least he’d seen you now. Most of you. And he understood better. Understood your issues. But something in him snapped.

Because this wasn’t just about obsession anymore.

It wasn’t about lust.

Or even protection.

It was about you.

And how you made him feel real again.

How you gave him a purpose.

You didn’t flinch when he glared. Didn’t avoid him at dinner. You just smiled, slid him your extra fries, and asked about the AI competition like it mattered. You looked at him like he was a person.

Not a project. Not a problem.

Not a hacker. Not a delinquent.

Not some mistake his father regretted.

And that… made you dangerous.

Because now you were a necessity. Something—someone—he cared about.

He did want to protect you.

But he also wanted to own you.

To erase the line between your bedroom and his. Between your thoughts and his access. Between your gasps at night and his name.

You weren’t supposed to get close.

You weren’t supposed to care.

And he wasn’t supposed to fall for you.

Fall for you?

...

But now what ?

You were the virus in his system.

The girl who said “good job” when he didn’t ask for praise. Who laughed when no one else did. Who touched his shoulder once—just once—and left him with a twitch in his fingers he couldn’t debug.

But you were a line of code he couldn’t rewrite. A live feed he couldn’t turn off.

And maybe, if he watched long enough—if he memorized every breath, every sigh, every single unguarded look—you wouldn’t disappear like the others.

Maybe, if he learned your pattern…he could break you open before you broke him.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d want him to. Even if it meant losing something. Even if it meant pulling you into the dark with him… and never letting you go.

Now you were sitting across from him. You spare him a glance while structuring your salad like a freak, with those doe eyes and he’s hard. Hard at a family dinner while they talked business.

Suddenly his breath catches your feet touching under the table. Like questioning, you good ?

Yeah it’s me, Heeseung. That sweet voice of yours haunting his head. 

His foot slides slower in between your legs mindlessly and when you almost jolt, he realizes. 

“gotta go sleep.” he blurred, rushing off the table. “Tomorrow is exam day.”

Fuck, he wants more. More of your secrets.More of you—the real you.

So he turned on your webcam, night after night, and your phone’s, and tab. like you were his favorite streamer, his favorite radio mc, the best sound to sleep. Like you wanted him to fantasise, think of it every night… 

You were stretched across your bed, laughing into your phone, wearing nothing but a tank and panties, circling your finger on your belly mindless. The way girls do when they forget they’re being watched.

You laid out your clothes for the next day like some little honor-roll princess—giggling when your friend called you a chaebol, and you shrug her off. 

But the way you lingered on the lace you never wear… the silk you only sleep on alone… the sheer pieces he has never seen— holding them up to your chest, slow movements like the reflection was his to tell you what to wear. It was fucking foreplay. You were a fucking siren, with your fucking hair finally down, and those dumb big scare glasses off. 

And him ?

Heeseung…

He was already crashing on the rocks. He was a black-hat addict no-full-blown cyber-pervert. rock hard, mindlessly stroking his bulge at the sheer form of you in unmatched underwears.

So innocent. So mine.

Some days later, you knocked on his door while your parents were off circling the globe, allergic to stillness and obligations. Your hair was tied up but messier than usual, cheeks sun-kissed, eyes almost red—like you’d cried.

God, if someone made you cry… I’d kill them.

You held two glasses of soda, dripping with condensation. No way you could deny you’d been pacing by his door for the last hour.

“What are you up to, genius? I’m bored,” you said, voice half-curious, half-something else.

Heeseung—fool, addict, liar—let you in. Let you get too close. Showed you things he shouldn’t because you asked with that look that made him feel like a god, not a glitch. But also made him wonder who had made you sad enough to want to change your mind.

Still, you smiled at his screens like they were art. Touched his keyboard like it was sacred. No step-sister had ever looked at him like that before—hell, no one actually had. Fuck, he needed to focus. Focus on you, not you.

“You really made all this?”

He nodded, trying not to smirk, trying not to shake. His fingers danced across the keys like a seduction.

“Wanna see something fun?”

A window blinked open. He typed some commands, and grainy footage appeared: the neighbor’s yard. Middle-aged man with hedge clippers, snipping bonsai like manicuring his soul.

He tapped more keys. Suddenly, sprinklers roared to life. The neighbor shrieked, dropped the shears, and bolted.

You burst out laughing, collapsing into him, palm against his chest. That sound—reckless, sweet—made something snap inside him. It wasn’t just pride. It was possession. You weren’t weirded out. You liked it. Liked him. Not the fake polite way. The way that made him want to caress your cheek and kiss those red eyes.

But he was a coward—or your strongest soldier, as he liked to call himself. One who wanted you close, for good, not some fling you’d regret like the others he barely tolerated. No, he wanted you for life—and he was in the perfect position, as long as your parents behaved.

Then your eyes met. Dangerous idea sparking. You dared him with your gaze, then dashed out of his room.

“Try it on my bedroom camera!” you shouted, disappearing down the hall, hoodie flapping like a flag.

Fuck. If only you knew he was already connected.

Moments later — Cam03: Her Bedroom Feed lit up.

You stood in front of the lens—he used to fuck himself to thoughts of you—starry-eyed as he purposefully reactivated the red dot, signaling it was on. Made a mental note to re-enable it later.

You waved. Smiled like sin. Mouthing: “See me?”

He choked. Because yes—he saw you. Always had. But now? Now you saw him.

Like you always knew.

You reached for your top, lifted the hem just enough to flash bare skin, then darted out of frame, laughing like it was a game.

His chest burned. Panic and arousal mixed in his bloodstream like a drug. Heeseung’s brain broke.

But he didn’t shut it down. He couldn’t. Instead, he gave in. His trembling fingers dimmed your room’s lights, shifting godspeed to soft pink. He knew it was your favorite. Knew too much.

Then he started your playlist—the one with soft beats, gentle melody, moonstruck, your favorite.

You paused in the doorway. Turned just enough for the camera to catch you again. Smiled with pure fascination, like a kid. You should’ve been afraid. But you weren’t.

You looked at the cam again, really looked, like he was the sweetest boy, and you didn’t care much what he was capable of—because it was him.

You walked back to his door, dripping sunlight and mischief.

“That was so cool,” you said, high-fiving him like your heart wasn’t thundering. Like you hadn’t just exposed the darkest part of him and come back wanting more. “Can you, like… track people? Their phones or whatever?”

Heeseung blinked. “I-if their GPS is on. Or if they ping the network.”

You tilted your head. Bit your lip. “…Wanna play hide and seek?”

He scoffed in disbelief, but there was a glint behind his eyes—half challenge, half thrill. Like he’d just been dared to play a game he already knew the rules to.

He grabbed his laptop. The mansion was too big. Too full of shadows, quiet corners. A maze of marble, high ceilings, inherited guilt.

Heeseung sat somewhere, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

You texted him: “find me.” One signal. One flare. Then silence.

He tracked you through your phone GPS—chose not to use the hallway cams, even though he easily could have. Something intimate, invasive, about watching your little red dot move on his map. Every time he walked to you was an ode to the game only you two could play.

Library.

“Checkmate. You’re here.”

“Wow! So you really can!”

West Wing.

“If I’m facing a mirror, it’s too easy… not even fun.”

“Fuck…”

Wine Cellar.

“If you’re trying to get drunk, pick the 2007 Bordeaux.”

You laughed.

The pool.

He stuck to the GPS. The red dot blinking. Stalling. Then disappearing.

You texted: “find me now.”

His screen dimmed like the whole house was holding its breath.

Heeseung’s pulse quickened. GPS cut out. No new pings. He tried again. Twice. Three times. Nothing.

Every nerve in his body was a wire of curiosity. The air heavy with chlorine and humidity as he stepped toward the pool deck, leaving his computer by the bar.

Then he found it—your phone, face down on the stone near the pool.

But you, where—

“Got you!” You leapt.

Laughter, bare legs, hoodie off. Heeseung didn’t have time to react before you crashed into him—both of you tumbling into the water with a splash that shattered the silence.

You surfaced first, grinning like a devil. “You can’t find me if I don’t want you to, huh?” you teased, flicking water at him.

Heeseung stared at you, laughing mid-cough. Clothes heavy. Hair plastered to his forehead. The water clung to your skin in a way that made his hands twitch under the surface. You floated closer then. Then reached out and hooked your fingers in his bangs, stroking them like you always did. Then tugging gently.

“How about I cut your hair?” you whispered, too close to him not to have his eyes linger on your lips. “We’re starting university soon. Can’t show up like some code-goblin, right?”

He snorted. But you two didn’t move. Just watched each other's souls for too long. Heart hammering. Skin burning. You were in his pool. In his arms now. In his system.

“Are you okay?”

He, with the most considering eyes a family member ever gave you. But you just nodded to his biggest displeasure. Something was wrong, yeah.

Actually, everything was wrong. And surely something was wrong with you. You felt trapped. In your studies, in your relationship, in these always-new families, in your boring unstable life. You wanted more. More attention, more love, more recognition, more freeness, just more…

You weren't special like Heeseung. You couldn’t clap your fingers and get that video back from your so-called boyfriend—he threatened to leak it if you ever thought of leaving him again. Couldn’t clap your fingers and make a scholarship appear on your forms for university, and couldn’t clap your fingers to make you go to your best choice without the biggest loan you can think about.

But it was better to tell him everything was okay. Because if you didn't fake it… you’d be dead by now.

And maybe it’s the weather, or his concerned look, or his trembling hands on your ribs—not too low, not too high. But it felt good being with Heeseung, even better seeing the way he looked at you—you really had a problem.

“Can you… like… if I ever asked you…”

“What?” He came closer, almost locking in his hands. “Tell me…”

“If someday I needed you, would you… like… help me if I have something very complicated to solve... like… you know, math.” You laughed it off like you weren't about to ask him to get that sextape back.

He nodded so obediently it hurt. Fuck, you had him in the palm of your hand without doing anything more than just letting him watch. Deny his ever-growing desire. Playing this game you caught him in.

Yeah… maybe you really were what your mom made out of you… sadly.

After that, Heeseung was like a man on a mission. He hacked every piece of info he could find on that deep shit. Until he found it… your complicated math exercise…

A tap of you and him. Filmed like you weren’t aware of it. Heeseung couldn’t find the courage to watch it…

Until he did.

And it was everything he ever fantasized doing with you.

I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him.

That guy needed to be out of your life.

Now.

He could frame him for anything he wanted. Crash his Tesla. His mind was spiraling as he bit on his nail, replaying that video again and again and again. Zooming on you.

I’ll protect you.

First, you needed an escape. Easy—that guy already cheated on you with so many girls, it was easy for you to catch him. So he wrote a fantasy he hoped you’d fall for. He drafted messages from your bf’s phone. A fake date. Something sweet, just enough like your boyfriend to pass.

“Meet me tonight baby girl. Just us. Let’s talk. 9PM. My room.”

“Baby girl…” you hated that name, but still couldn’t refuse him. And now Heeseung understood.

You saw it, and for a second, you believed. He watched you re-read it, then start getting ready—lip gloss, that fluttery dress, even that nervous little smile like it still meant something.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend was across campus, buried in someone else. Moaning her name. Careless, as always.

Heeseung watched it all—your hope fading when you opened that door, his betrayal, his choke. Your silence. Her grasp. One earbud in, one eye on every camera feed you both could offer.

You left the place in a rush, your phone starting to buzz as Heeseung watched every message your now-ex boyfriend sent you. You found yourself drifting in a club. You needed air, music, and drinks.

The music wasn’t even that good, your drink, not that strong. You didn’t plan to dance. And you didn’t plan for some no-brain guy with smooth hands to hit on you.

And you almost let him have his way near the bathrooms. Just to forget the sound of your phone. Forget that you had to go back to that guy until he decided he’d had enough or leaked the tape.

Almost.

Until Heeseung’s hand was on your wrist, showing up out of nowhere to pull you away.

“Heeseung?”

He got you out of the club, his hand digging into your wrist. The car ride was dead silent. Heeseung looked pissed. You were hollow, but not dumb. And you let him snap.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

You didn’t answer.

“... Don’t you have a bf?”

Still silent. Tears welled up before you could blink them back, and Heeseung was at a loss for words. Yeah, it was that easy to shush him—crocodile cries easy.

“Stop crying…” he muttered, but he looked panicked now. Like your tears were acid on his skin. “Tell me what’s going on?”

Like he didn’t know.

But you had to play it well. Make him do it tonight, and no other night.

“He cheated…”

“Then leave him…”

“I can’t…” Hee looked at you with fake wonder. “He filmed me once… and…”

He nodded, enough to tell you you didn’t need to keep going.

When you got home, Heeseung took your hand before you stormed into your room, and he watched you—really watched—and got in a hug. Caressing your hair, getting closer to your ear, “I'll help you.”

You almost feared he could feel your smile. You detached your head with the saddest questioning expression.

“I’ll protect you,” he said, the heaviest stare he ever gave you.

You just nodded like you weren’t expecting much. When you actually wanted exactly what he gave you.

Back in your room, you kept re-seeing Heeseung’s expression. Almost mad, almost dangerous.

And you. You wanted more. You wanted everything—not just protection, but revenge. Revenge for the time you lost on that guy, for your virginity you couldn’t bring back, for the stress… for everything.

So you opened your laptop. Placed your phone next to it like it’s part of the performance. You know he’s watching.

You know.

Heeseung, on his part, got in his room ready to execute the next part of his plan when the ping of your camera alerts him. But tonight is not the night. After seeing you like that, he doesn't want to do that.

So he started to undress. Until—

“Heeseung?”

His head snapped to his monitor. WTF.

“You’re here, no? I mean, you’re watching.”

He almost fell on the ground, unable to walk straight to his computer.

What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What?

The webcam light doesn’t flicker on right away when you open it.

You look at your reflection. This webcam is better than the last time you used it. Wide-angle. Pretty high-def. You can see almost your entire room. Bed. Closet. Console. The mirror angled just right to show the bathroom.

God. You made it so easy for him.

You let your fingers lazily drift to your dress straps. In a slow reveal. You watch yourself in the camera—legs tucked just right to keep mystery intact. Eyes locked on the return. You open your—

“You like it when I do that?” You looked almost innocent doing it. What the fuck were you doing, Heeseung’s mind screamed. “You want more?”

Heeseung was stunned. Too many questions. Too many desires.

He didn’t even respond, his hand mindlessly disconnecting your camera’s red dot and reconnecting again like Morse.

“Then ruin him for me. Make him as ashamed as I was.”

You were pulling his obsession like strings. A puppet master in silk cloth. The light on the webcam flickered once again.

You smiled, slowly nodding. “Good night, Heeseung.” Shut it all down.

By morning, half the campus was infected with a juicy little virus: dozens of very compromising photos of your now-ex, including a special feature of him being pegged by none other than his mom’s best friend.

Iconic.

The breakup text? Already sent. Blocked him before your brain even had a chance to process.

You didn’t see him all day. No dinner, no open door when you brought snacks. Nothing.

Maybe you really fucked up. Poor Heeseung, thinking you were innocent, only to find out you were just like everyone else—grey, messy, complicated.

But just before bed, your phone lit up. A note. Your password written clear on the screen.

You sat frozen, eyes flickering between the note that started typing on its own, and the webcam pointed right at you.

“I’ll always protect you.”

Then, an mp4 file popped up. Your lips curved into a shy smile.

You almost said something, but instead, you tapped beneath his words:

“Thank you, Heeseung. I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t there.”

The cursor blinked, paused—like he was thinking hard about what to say next.

“I protect what’s mine.”

Your eyes drifted to the webcam. “Am I?”

“Aren’t you?”

Your gaze dropped shyly, biting your lip to keep the smile from slipping out. Fuck, it was hot—this obsessive, protective boy who’d kill for you.

“I am…” you breathed, fingers playing with the thin straps of your dress.

“Maybe?”

Slowly, you peeled it off. No bra. No panties. Just you—bare, glowing in the soft light of your screen.

Heeseung’s side: panting mess. Trembling. Rock hard. Watching was always intense, but this? His brain shorted out. Every movement you made poured fuel on the fire in his chest—the way you loosened your hair, slid off your glasses, shy but teasing.

Your voice slipped through his headphones like a spell.

“Tell me what you want,” you breathed. “I’ll do it. As a thank you.”

He was nearly feral, watching you perched like a dream made just for him. But now you wanted him to take the lead. For once, you wanted control handed over.

And for a long, heavy moment, silence.

Then, a new line in your notes:

“Anything?”

You nodded, lips parting.

Another line.

“Touch yourself.”

“For me.”

You rose, heading for your bed.

Then:

“No. Here.”

You sat back down. Fully exposed. The chair never felt colder. The electricity on your skin was undeniable—the weight of someone watching, devouring every move.

You shivered. Something folded inside, vulnerable but not scared.

Then your screen flickered.

A video opened.

Porn.

But not just any porn. A girl like you—same frame, soft lighting. She was in a gaming chair, legs parted, cat headphones, a pink toy buzzing between her thighs. Moaning like she’d been waiting for eyes to watch.

You blinked. The message was loud and clear.

Your breath caught—not shocked, but challenged.

Back to the webcam—doe eyes, tempted. Your fingers traced lower, hips shifting, copying her exact position. Mimicry never felt so twisted.

You didn’t hesitate. Your fingers moved.

Heeseung watched like it was a live confession. Pupils dilated, chest heaving, gripping himself tight, trying not to explode too soon.

A message appeared:

“Slower.”

You obeyed, breath shaking, already slick with every stroke.

Another message:

“Fuck, you’re shaking.”

You were. Legs twitching, spine arching against the chair.

You never thought you’d go this far, but he was puppeteering you with his commands.

Then:

“I’ve never seen you like this. Fuck. I want to cum in you. In that chair. Just like that.”

You groaned, eyes fluttering shut, but forced them open—locking onto the lens like it was him.

Another message:

“I want you ruined. For anyone else. Say it.”

You moaned, fingers freezing.

“I’m yours,” you whispered.

“Say it again,” he typed.

“I’m yours, Heeseung.”

The pressure built—right at the edge—

Then:

“Stop.”

“Don’t cum.”

Your breath hitched. You froze mid-stroke, legs trembling.

Another line:

“I said stop. If anyone makes you cum tonight—it’s me.”

Your fingers hovered, shaking. The ache burned deep in your thighs, stomach taut.

But you stopped.

Because his word mattered more than your desire now.

Your screen blinked.

“Get your toy.”

You swallowed, nodded, reached into your drawer.

The vibrator was familiar—sleek, pink, faintly scented from your date-night oil. You rubbed it, coating it with your wetness, then slid it slowly inside, breath heavy.

Then the toy buzzed. Flickered. Came alive.

You gasped—he was controlling it.

Before you could say a word, it pulsed hard. Your body jerked, chair creaking beneath you. Your grip tightened on the arms as pleasure rolled through you like a whip.

“That’s it,” he typed. “Don’t touch it. Just take it.”

You moaned—too much, too fast—your body trembling, legs spreading without control. The sounds you made were filthy, desperate.

Heeseung’s fingers typed again.

“Grip the chair.”

You obeyed.

The toy buzzed harder, relentless and cruel.

“Look at the camera.”

Tears pricked, but you held his gaze—through that little glowing lens. Your thighs trembled, breath catching—

He knew.

He memorized every sound, every gasp, every twitch.

Your climax hit like an explosion—so fierce your back arched from the chair. Toes curled, lips parted in a silent cry.

If only you could hear it—the gasp, the groan, the shuddering moan from his room. Rooms apart, perfectly synced.

You collapsed back against the seat, chest heaving.

The toy powered down. The room fell silent but electric. Only the Notes app stayed open. One final line appears:

“I know your body better than anyone ever will.”

You smile, eyes rolling, calming yourself. You’re still catching your breath when your phone buzzes.

Unknown Caller.

You smirk. Answer it without hesitation.

Hee,” you whisper, lazy satisfaction dripping from your tone.

You hear him—shaky, panting, like the edge nearly broke him. “Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck… You’re so pretty. So fucking pretty. You don’t even know what you do to me.”

His voice is hoarse, frayed with restraint. You picture him—still burning from his climax, hand resting low, skin flushed.

“You drive me insane. Every breath you take, every moan...” He watches you lift your thighs, tucking yourself shyly behind them like a girl playing innocent. “It’s mine. You’re mine. Don’t you get it? I want you so bad I—fuck—I can’t even—”

You cut in softly.

“Heeseung,” you murmur, voice smooth like silk sliding over a blade. “I never said I was yours...”

Silence.

You lean in, sugar-sweet, doe eyes locked on the lens, like you don’t quite know what you’re doing.

“You think this makes me yours?”

He breathes hard. You swear you hear the tension in his throat—how he swallows that growl.

“Then what?” he whispers. “What do I have to do?”

You hum, hiding your face in your thighs, thoughtful. “I’ll know.”

Heeseung almost chokes. “You’re playing with me.”

You tilt your head.

“Of course I am, Hee. Isn’t that what you like? What we always did? Playing games.” Your voice softens, teasing, the tone that always breaks him. “You’re obsessed, Hee. But to own me?” you shake your head slowly. “You’ll have to do more than just watch me cum on camera.”

A pause. You let it hang, let it burn. Then, low and teasing:

“If you really want me,” you whisper. “Stop being a coward. Show me.”

His breath catches. You almost feel the stillness on his end.

Click.

You hang up.

Still smiling, you toss your phone aside.

“Good night, Heeseung,” you murmur to the camera before shutting everything down.

Heeseung hadn’t heard your voice in three days.

Not on the phone, not through the headphones, not even that little intake of breath when you tiptoe around your room late at night.

Three days.

Seventy-two hours of silence.

No webcam flickers. No Notes app replies. No little “good night, Hee” teasing him through pixels.

Nothing.

He tapped at your IP like a lunatic. Pinging dead signals. Checked your cloud for new files. Scraped your cache for cam logs, anything—anything—that might prove you were still playing.

But you weren’t. You’d shut him out completely. Blocked him, in every way that mattered—except the one that destroyed him the most: in person, you were still perfect.

Because in real life, you were still her.

Still the step-sister who sat next to him at dinner, nudging his arm, sipping from his glass like it meant nothing. Still in those stupid soft modest dresses that smelled like your vanilla lotion and innocence. Still saying his name in that sweet voice that didn’t match the girl who once whispered “I’m yours” for a night, while fingering herself in his favorite dress.

Still shy smilling in front of the parents, like he wasn’t slowly going fucking insane of you ghosting him in the cruelest way possible.

Heeseung clenched his jaw until it hurt. His fists, tighter. You were torturing him. Training him with your silence. Denying him touch, sound, ownership—making him feel like just another loser watching from a screen.

And worst of all? You liked it.

He could see it in the way you smiled at him when no one was looking. Like the devil behind a halo. Like the dom who knew her puppy would crawl the moment she said good boy.

You knew what you were doing. And you knew he was starving.

He watched you meet someone new through your messages—tracked him from his first DM. The second the guy sent a heart emoji, Heeseung had full access to his cloud, laptop, phone, and location history.

So when you showed up at that guy’s place in that same dress as that night, Heeseung went feral. watching you through the guy’s hacked MacBook camera. Front-row seat. 1080p. Wide angle. Clear sound. Perfect view.

You didn’t even try to hide untapping your phone camera, angling it for him. But he was already there.

He watched the way you swayed when you walked into the room. That skirt was short—barely legal. Hair done like you were on a mission to ruin him. Lip gloss like you were asking to be kissed. Or owned.

Heeseung’s fists dug into his thigh. You let the guy kiss you. Hands on your hips. Heeseung scoffed in fury. The guy went down on you and Heeseung leaned forward—eyes glued to your face smiling at him. Not for the man.

Only for him.

You mouthed his name, Heeseung, made that sound again—that sweet gasp that cracked every nerve in his body—and his hands were already down his pants before he even realized it. Stroking slowly. Angry.

Then the guy started fucking you. It was… pathetic.

You looked bored. Pretty. But not wrecked. Not how Heeseung would have done you—needed you. Not how you looked when he edged you, whispering commands through your notes.

He texted :

He’s not even close to making you cum.Why are you with him?Stop. 

Now. 

Please.

You didn’t stop. You got louder. Not for performance, because knowing hee was watching, unleashed you.

Heeseung’s hand stuttered. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard it bled. You were performing. For him, not the other guy. You had to be. And yet you didn’t stop when he begged you.

Heeseung didn’t drink. Didn’t smoke. Didn’t call a friend.

He texted one of the girls who’d been orbiting him since he entered university—some pretty, pouty girl with no idea what she was walking into.

She came fast. Obedient. Heeseung fucked her like punishment.

Shoved her onto his lap, dragged her skirt over her hips without a single word. Didn’t ask if she was ready. Didn’t even pretend to care. Just spread her thighs, lined himself up, and buried in—rough, silent, merciless.

She moaned his name, kissing his neck. Heeseung kept his eyes on the screen. Because on the monitor behind her?

You were still live. Fucking someone else. His airpods were in. And he was moaning your name under his breath.

The girl was clueless to much overwhelmed by his deep, rough trust. Riding him like she thought she was doing a good job for him to be so feral. 

Heeseung touched her the way he would have to you, controlling. forcing her in position trying to reach her deepest part, as he watched your hips roll on screen. Your nails dig into someone else’s back.

“Grippe my back. leave marks.” he ordered her.

He hiss, mouthing along with your sounds like a prayer.

“Fuck—Louder. Just like that... Just like that—fuck.”

The girl on his lap whimpered, “does it feel good, Hee?”

Heeseung stared at your body—your lips, your tits, your sweat-shined thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” he muttered. “Fuck—you…”

His climax came hard, violent. He choked your name on the exhale and came inside the girl like she didn’t matter—because she didn’t.

When the girl left, he stared at the screen for an hour. Watched you dress. Watched you check your phone. Smiling.

Not once did you reply to his messages.

You were killing him. Starving him. Making him beg. He slammed the laptop shut, chest heaving, hatred and love boiling into the same sick ache.

You were right. He was a coward. But not for much longer.

You found it on your bed. No card. No note. No sender. Just a black box, wrapped in a ribbon you never heard arrive. Inside: lingerie. Lace. Sheer. Decadent. Your exact size. Your exact taste. Lightly soaked in a scent you could recognize in your sleep—his cologne.

Your fingers trembled when you held it up to the light. No message. But then again, he never needed words.

Heeseung didn’t ask. He tried to command.

So, you didn’t text. Didn’t thank him. You just wore it.

That night, when the webcam light blinked to life, you were already sitting pretty in front of your laptop. Sheer fabric draped over your body like a sin begging to be confessed.

You leaned into the camera, eyes soft, voice sweeter.

“Goodnight, Genius. Hope uni’s not eating you alive.”

And then—

You logged off. Just like that.

Left him starving. You knew he’d pretend it didn’t affect him. He tried, bless him.

He texted the next day, like it was nothing. Invited you to his university party. Like this wasn’t war. Like he wasn’t already losing.

Of course, you went. Dressed in red. Not the lingerie—something sharper. Something that made his friends stare a little too long.

Heeseung barely spoke to you that night. Slipped back into his old self—like he hadn’t spent the week watching you like a man possessed. But he was in his element, charming his nerdy circle, and you were happy just watching him thrive.

Then, it changed.

He didn’t introduce you as his stepsister. That alone cracked the air between you. His hand found your back, fingers tracing lazy nothings while he laughed with his friends, eyes on you like you were art.

You liked seeing him smile. Liked knowing you made it easier.

And then—he excused you both. His friends wished you luck with admissions. So polite. So clueless.

He walked you up a narrow hallway, like it was nothing. A quiet corridor, half-lit.

Then he locked you in a hug.

And kissed your neck.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, hands already exploring.

“You too,” you murmured, smiling. “New haircut? You kept it long in the back. Looks good.”

“You said I should, so...”

You smiled harder, went in for a kiss—your first. His lips were maddening. Soft, sure, and hungrier than you expected. He kissed like he’d waited for years. Like he’d decided waiting was over.

"Untie your dress," he whispered against your mouth, voice low.

You raised a brow, smirking. “Thought you liked watching from afar.”

His jaw flexed. “Not tonight.”

You let the ribbon fall, letting the dress slip open. Underneath—his gift. His breath caught.

“You like it?” you teased.

He didn’t answer. He spun you, pressed you into the wall, and his hand was already between your thighs—finding you soaked.

His mouth brushed your ear, voice cracking with restraint.

“Fuck. You’re so wet for me. I’ve waited so long.”

“Say it,” he growled.

“What?”

His thrust was sharp—two fingers deep.

“Say you want me to ruin you. Say you like it.”

You whimpered, arching into his hand. “I like it when you ruin me.”

“Say it right.”

You licked your lips. “I want to be yours, Heeseung. Ruin me.”

His exhale was jagged—like something inside him broke.

Then came silence. Just heat. Breathing. Fingers moving in and out of you as he grinded against your body, shameless and reckless in a hallway anyone could walk into.

And just before you came—he pulled away.

“No,” he said simply. “Let’s go.”

“Home?”

“No. My room.”

His dorm was massive, dark except for the red glow of a snoozed monitor. His roommate was nowhere. Probably never real to begin with. You practically jumped on him. Messy kisses. Wandering hands. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, your back—and then—

Your hand brushed his desk. The monitors flared to life. And there you were—your webcam feed, glowing on the screen.

Recording. Your name as the file.

“You always make me watch,” he whispered, stripping you down to the lingerie. “Now watch yourself.”

He pulled you onto the bed, body still facing the screen.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, spreading your legs for the camera. “I’ve owned you since the first time you stepped into this house.”

On screen—your reflection trembled. Moaned. Melted in real-time.

He eased fingers inside you again while holding you in his lap, pinching a nipple until you gasped, breath tangled.

“I know what you fantasize about when you’re bored,” he whispered.

He started humping you, slow and heavy.

“I know what kind of porn you scroll past—then go back to.”

Thrust.

“I know which songs you loop when you touch yourself. I synced your playlist.”

You choked on a gasp.

“I know you changed your passwords, just to make me mad.”

His hand curled lightly around your throat.

“But I like it. I like when you pretend.”

He never slowed—just kept pushing you higher, mean and relentless.

And when you moaned his name?

He broke.

“I’m going to give you every twisted thing you’ve ever typed,” he growled. “Every fantasy you deleted. Every filthy draft you couldn’t finish. I’m going to make them real.”

Your climax slammed into you, shuddering through your bones—but he didn’t stop.

“I’ll tie you up in the library when no one’s looking,” he said, voice wicked. “Bend you over your best friend’s bed and leave a bruise only I’ll recognize.”

He laughed.

“I’ll make you cry my name with someone else inside you—just to remind you no one will ever ruin you like I do.”

You turned and kissed him, wild and unhinged.

He kissed back like a claim. Like he was branding your soul.

Then he grabbed you and threw you onto the bed. Reached for a condom.

You stopped him.

“It’s safe today, Hee. Do me raw.”

His pupils darkened. Something dangerous sparked.

He freed himself and dragged his cock against your wetness, teasing your entrance. You moaned each time the head kissed you. His smile was smug. Addicted.

“Heeseung. Please.”

He nodded—and slid in all at once.

You gasped, overwhelmed, stretched so good it hurt in the most perfect way.

He rocked into you deep and slow, biting your neck, lips pressed against skin he couldn’t stop worshipping.

Then he pulled you upright—still inside you.

“You like this position, huh?”

You nodded, dizzy, undone. He studied you like he’d been preparing for a test. He always aced those.

Then—his thrusts changed. Not faster. Just deeper. Harder.

“Hee—”

“Like that, yeah?”

You nodded again, mouth open, breathless at every delicious, punishing thrust.

He looked so fucking good like this—hair sticking to his forehead, lips parted, eyes glazed with need. You went for another kiss and he gripped your neck, slid to your hair, pulling until your back arched.

“Like that?”

“Yeah—yeah—fuck—don’t stop—”

He sucked your tits, relentless now, chasing both your highs. You clenched down so hard his groans turned ragged. He bit your nipple, then folded you in half, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

And then—he lost it.

He didn’t slow.

Not even as your body bucked under him, shaking.

He buried himself deeper, fingers biting into your hips, sweat dripping from his jaw as he fucked you like he wanted to unmake you.

The monitors kept rolling. Your name flashing on screen, over your own moans.

You reached for him—some desperate grasp for balance—but he pinned your wrists above your head, fucked you harder. One of your legs slipped off his shoulder, and he yanked it back up with a grunt.

“Keep it there,” he snarled, breath ragged. “Don’t move unless I say.”

You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

You were already too far gone.

You felt yourself stretch around him again, again, again—your walls pulsing and fluttering with every brutal thrust. It was filthy, unrelenting, and it wasn’t enough.

Heeseung's voice was in your ear, low and wrecked.

“This how you like it?” he panted. “Getting used like this—getting ruined on camera for me?”

You sobbed a yes—high and gasping—and he growled. His hips snapped forward again, this time shoving you higher on the bed.

“Fucking take it.”

He leaned in, biting your lip, grinding deeper. The rhythm turned meaner—each thrust slamming into you with brutal precision.

“You like knowing I’ll replay this?” he whispered. “Jerk off to it when you’re not around?”

You moaned helplessly.

“Want you to. I want you obsessed.”

“Oh, I am,” he said. “You made me this.”

His rhythm stuttered—he was close. You could feel him twitch inside, groaning against your mouth.

Then—

He came.

Hard.

Buried deep.

His whole body went taut over yours, shuddering as he emptied himself, hips rolling slower, deeper. You felt the heat inside you, the stickiness, the way his cock throbbed even after the high.

And still—he didn't pull out.

He kissed your collarbone, your throat, lazily now. Worn out. Quiet.

The screen behind him kept glowing.

Your body was wrecked, your heart pounding against his chest.

He pulled you close, like he wasn’t finished. Like he never would be.

The next morning, the sun barely broke past his blackout curtains. You were still half-naked in his sheets when you heard his fingers tapping at his laptop. A fresh hoodie hung off his shoulder, hair a messy halo.

“Hey,” he said, voice rough with sleep.

You groaned into the pillow. “Already working?”

He smirked. “Coding clears my head. Better than coffee.”

You rolled over. He looked too good like this. Soft around the edges. Eyes warm.

“I wish you could come here,” he said. “To my university.”

You blinked, suddenly alert. He smiled, but it didn’t reach all the way. “You did apply, right?”

“…Yeah.”

He nodded like he already knew. “But you didn’t tell me…pfff.”

Your stomach turned, just a little, as you smirked. “I didn’t want you to be happy for something so unsure.”

“I know.”

Silence. He got back typing. 

“You really think I wouldn’t find out?” he said. “You think I’d just… let you leave somewhere else?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What did you do?”

He smiled. Shrugged. “Nothing you’ll ever be able to prove.”

Your heartbeat slowed. Thick. Smiling unsure.

“Heeseung...”

He stood, walking over. Calm. Barefoot. Still smelling like last night and wanting more.

“I didn’t touch your application,” he said softly. “But I might’ve nudged the scholarship committee. You’re exceptional, after all.”

You froze. “Why?”

“Because you belong here, in that prestigious place and nowhere else.”

His fingers grazed your chin. Tender. Possessive.

“...With me.”

You swallowed. He tilted your face up to his, eyes half-lidded.

“You would've turned it down if you knew,” he murmured, getting his lips closer, smooching slowly. “You’re too proud for that kind of help. Too proud to admit you want to be kept.”

Your voice caught in your throat. “That’s not why I applied.”

“I know why you applied, just like me.”

His thumb ghosted over your lower lip.

“That’s why I made sure you’d stay. to be free.”

A flicker of something dangerous passed between you. Or maybe it had always been there. He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“You think you’re playing me right now, huh,” he whispered, “but—what if I like being used, if it means I get to keep you?”

Your breath hitched. And he smiled. Like he’d already won. Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe you’d just let him believe he had.

Author’s Note:

Babies~ here it is!! 💗 The second part of my enha stepbro AU (first one was HUNTED).

I really hope this one pleased you… did it??? 🥺

I worked so hard on this piece to match the exact vibe I had in mind. Like—why was I waking up at 3 AM with wild ideas for scene effects that were borderline impossible to execute?! 😭🌀

This one definitely has a different flavor! While HUNTED leaned into soft, needy sub!Jakey energy (bless him), I wanted TRAPPED to explore the more intoxicating side of obsession—but not so far that we start hating our sweet little Heeseung~ Just a touch of crazy, y’know?

I really hope the mood translated well, because after rereading it 500 times, I fully lost that "first read magic" feeling I’m not super proud of this draft yet—kinda wish I had more time to proofread and polish it up. I’ll probably update it later (perfectionist problems 😭).

Next up is Part 3, which is supposed to be Sunghoon’s! Let me know if you want anything special in it—I’m all ears... and pervy brain. Just know it’s gonna involve dacryphilia, so bring tissues… for various reasons

XOXO

Reblogs and thirsty little thoughts are always appreciated don’t be shy~© Lassiie

@heejunluvr @choeryyxyz @hoonprksung @schniti-is-in-the-house @ii2sanrio @woniedoyouloveme @saeris-world @gonorrheaisme @soobiverse

[jngwonu]

REAL MAN ，lhs

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄, 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌

𝟏𝐎𝟑𝟕𝒾──── downbad!heeseung 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff 𓂋 mention of alcohol kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡ ⠀

rbs ！ ✶ 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 for @yeokii ◜ ᴗ ◝

you never realized how heavy heeseung was until tonight.

“t—thank you,” he giggles when you throw him on the bed.

you stretch, having his arm around your shoulder and his entire weight on you during fifteen minutes wasn’t the best time of your life.

you look down at him. his cheeks are rosy pink, his tie is askew and his shirt is missing a few buttons. he looks at you with a lovesick smile plastered on his lips.

“baby, c’mere,” he holds your wrist, pulls you on top of him in a second—the alcohol got him forgetting his strength.

you hold yourself with a hand on the matress, you sigh, “hee…”

your boyfriend runs his thumb on your lower lip in a way to shut you up.

heeseung giggles every time he speaks, “you’re so pretty,” he cups your features, gaze wandering on your face until stopping at your lips. he hiccups, “let me kiss you.

heeseung leans in. for a second, you get distracted by his breath hitting your lips. then you remember that it’s the man who drank enough to not be able to walk straight.

you turn your head to the side, “heeseung, no.”

the man’s bambi–like eyes widen, they follow you as if you were their savior, “why not?” his grip on your jaw doesn’t release a single bit.

in the contrary, before you can answer his whiny question, his other hand cups the other side of your jaw. he makes you face him once again, his face already close enough to give you a peck.

“d—do you have a boyfriend?” your literal boyfriend asks. his voice is so small and sad, it makes you break a smile. however heeseung isn’t the kind to give up on what he wants.

he leans in even more. as if you being in a relationship was a challenge he needed to overcome, “we’ll find him another girlfriend, mh?”

your mouth falls in disbelief, “what?”

heeseung groans when you get out of his grip, “what?” he hiccups. “he won’t find out!”

you get stupidly offended at his remarks, “you are my boyfriend, idiot!” heeseung seems to have been hit with a storm. you continue, getting off the bed, standing straight, “if you think i would cheat on you, you are crazy.”

heeseung catches your wrist once again before you can leave the room.

“wait,” he pulls you back to him. his expression is serious, as if he just sobered, “i’m sorry, i—i” he hiccups, “wouldn’t think i’m lucky enough to have you.”

you sit on the edge of the bed, “you’re dumb.”

heeseung looks at you, mouth falling agape. then he giggles. he hides it behind his hands but it’s still loud enough to echo in the entire room.

“i c—can be what—ever you want,” he says when he calmed down a bit, “i can even kiss you.”

“no,” you answer. voice firm.

he cups your face again, “please,” he pleads.

you let him guide you closer to his face, “heeseung, you are drunk.”

his mouth reeks of alcohol when he answers, “so what? i’m still a ve—very good kisser.”

“i’m not going to kiss you,” your protest are becoming weaker and your eyes linger in his mouth too much.

his lips brush yours, “c’mon, pretty girl,” he whispers, “just one.”

you don’t realize how easy you gave in, how quickly you let your eyes flutter shut until the peck isn’t happening anymore.

however, since heeseung is greedy like that, he can’t help but want more, “another one, please.”

you don’t answer, you let him kiss you once again. this time, the kiss last a few seconds longer then the other and you can taste the liquor remaining on his lips.

he doesn’t pull away to ask for more, “please, just one last kiss.”

heeseung often gets hungry when drunk. you think he is starving right now. the kiss he gives you is beyond eager and passionate— as if his waited his entire life to kiss you this way.

it makes your stomach twist with nothing but pure satisfaction while heeseung’s eyes brow furrows and pulse gets higher.

he tilts your head to the side to kiss you even better. if you weren’t halfway laying on him, you think your legs would simply give in.

the kiss makes you wonder why you even refused in the first place.

heeseung giggles when he pulls away makes you remember immediately. you groan, mentally scolding yourself for being so easy.

“no—no wait,” heeseung hiccups when he feels you pulling away once again.

“why did you even drink so much?”

“the guys said i wasn’t a real man if i couldn’t handle alcohol,” he pouts, “and wanted to be a real man, for you.”

your mouth is stuck open. such a stupid reason. such a lovely gesture. it makes you like him even more.

“you are such an idiot, really,” you laugh.

heeseung’s giggles may be your favorite thing in the world, “i love you.”

the world stops. your smile drops slowly. processing the information makes your brain work in a hurry. it’s a big deal: your drunk boyfriend telling you he loves you for the first time.

“huh?” is your answer. you are not sure if you heard that correctly.

“i said, i love you,” he repeats. very sure of himself. sounding as sober as ever. “i may be drunk, not able to walk, stumble over my words and giggle a lot, i know that i love you.”

you stay silent for a minute.

“i will tell you again tomorrow, and the after and for how long you let me stay by your side,” he continues, eyes staring into your soul. “you are not obligated to say anything back—”

your lips seals his. he sighs against your lips, sounding desperate, kissing back like the three kisses you exchanged a few minutes before never happened.

“i love you,” you say against his lips.

“i love you,” he repeats. then kisses you again. “i love you,” kiss. “i love you, i love you,” kiss. “i love you, i love you, i love you...”

he is soon indulging in his glee and his giggles take over you too.

maybe it’s the love he carries for you that makes him so heavy.

분지 ܃ ( early ) happy birthday hana ♥︎ i love you mwah !

taglist open 。

[jngwonu]

loser nerd jay getting to fuck you for the first time but he’s surprisingly good!! ifykyk

sigh how have i never thought of nerd!jay </3

✧ tw. smut (18+ mdni!), virginity loss, praise, unprotected sex

jay's cheeks flush as he undresses you, fingers fumbling with your bra 'cause he's never even laid his hands on one before. you giggle, pulling it off yourself as his wide eyes land on your plush tits spilling from the fabric. his lips part, breath caught in his throat.

"f-fuck, you’re so pretty.." he mumbles, already sounding breathless.

you expected him to be all nervous and shaky, but the minute his cock sinks into you, he groans loudly. his hands quickly find your waist and grip it tight, burying himself deep inside of you.

"shit.. feels so good, fuck," he whines, repeating and tripping over the same words, hips stuttering a little before finding a rhythm, surprisingly good and so deep. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, soft moans of his name slipping past your lips.

"i-i’ve thought about this so much," he confesses, throwing his head back as you see his adam’s apple bob. "thought about how tight you’d be.. how you’d moan for me like this."

the praise tumbles out nonstop, cheeks a rosy pink, glasses slipping down his nose as he ruins you without even realizing it.

"you’re strangling my cock, fuck.. gonna cum, gonna cum, please let me cum inside—" he pants, cock pulsing inside of you.

when you let him, his milky fluids paint your walls before he pulls out and nearly collapses on top of you. "sex is so good," he admits.

© emisluvr 2025. all rights reserved.

[jngwonu]

─── 𝑮𝑦𝑚 𝑩𝑟𝑜

˚.❀𝑷𝐴𝐼𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺 ─── Sunghoon x Reader

˚.❀𝑺𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆 ─── It was supposed to be a regular gym session with your close friend Sunghoon. Keyword ── supposed to be. You certainly didn't expect him to fuck you in front of the gym mirror while he was helping you stretch

˚.❀𝑮𝐸𝑁𝑅𝐸/𝐶𝑊 ─── short drabble , smut (mdni), chokehold, public sex , CHOKEHOLD , doggy style , Sunghoon rips your leggings , implied mutual pining/sexual tension, unprotected sex ˚.❀𝑾𝑂𝑅𝐷 𝐶𝑂𝑈𝑁𝑇 ─── 0.3k

                               𝒄ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡ᵎᵎ (˶˃⤙˂˶)

It was supposed to be a regular work out session with your best buddy Sunghoon , something you liked since there was always this tension lingering around in the air ── it was so fun to tease him with your tight leggings that showed off the form of your plump ass and outline of your panties. But you were playing with fire , something you have now learned.

He was supposed to help you stretch and correct your posture , his once soft cock rock hard as you kept pressing your ass against him. You were having your fun , now it was time for his fun.

Your leggings were torn at the crotch part , your back arched while his bicep was pressing against the front of your throat ── effectively holding you in a chokehold that had you gasping for air and your pussy drenching his cock.

His cock was stretching your pussy open , the head of his cock pressing at the right places , every thrust he delivered let you feel every single vein drag against your gummy like walls. Your head was spinning from the pleasure and the lack of air , your nails digging and tearing into your yoga mat underneath. It was almost pathetic how you looked once your eyes landed on the mirror. Your drool was running down your chin and dripping onto his biceps , your hair a mess from his previous hair pulling and your eyes were clouded with lust.

The thrill and anticipation of someone possibly coming into the room you two were in was making you way more aroused then you'd like to admit. Your eyes then landed on Sunghoon whose eyes were focused on your ass, watching the fat of your ass ripple every time his hips snapped against it, his teeth sunken into his bottom lip to conceal his own noises.

"You're such a fucking slut , you know that? Letting yourself get fucked in the gym like that , you just want to have someone catch us , don't you", he could feel the way your pussy clenched around his cock with every single word that left his mouth , his free hand landing a harsh slap on your ass.

"You wanted to stretch, yeah? I'll stretch you real fucking good."

[jngwonu]

cowgirl riding jake till between readers & jake thighs are sooo full of ribbons of cum cuz they keep going for hours at night & louddd, creampie till reader is full

oh my gosh this is so hot i'm done for

warnings: smut, cowgirl, cum play, overstimulation, dumbification, multiple creampies

you’re straddling jake, your glasses slipping a little as you move, thighs slick and sticky, his heavy cock buried deep inside you for what feels like hours. every time you lift up, thick ropes of his cum slip out of your dripping, stretched pussy, sliding down his thighs and pooling on the sheets beneath you. it’s warm and messy, and you’re drowning in it.

“jakey, please,” you moan, voice shaky and breathless, your glasses fogging slightly with your heat, “i’m so full… i can’t hold it all… it’s leaking… it’s everywhere…” your hands grip his chest, fingers trembling as you bounce down on him again, squelching wet and loud. “please don’t stop… i’m gonna go dumb for you, jakey… gonna lose my mind…”

he grins, eyes dark, watching the creamy mess drip from your pussy lips. “look at you, baby… can’t keep a single drop, huh? you’re my messy little cumdump.”

your head falls back, tongue lolling out as you babble nonsense, your glasses slipping further down your nose, “i’m so messy… all yours… feel it dripping, jakey, down my thighs… can’t stop, can’t think…” your hips move in slow, lazy circles, but your body shakes from the overload of feeling and overstimulation.

he dips his fingers into the thick slick between your legs, then slides them inside you, pressing deep and spreading the wet warmth back into your cunt. the squelch is loud and filthy. you cry out, voice breathy and broken, “more… pleasepleaseplease… stuff it back in, jakey… don’t let it drip out… i need it all inside… i need to be full… so full of you…”

he chuckles low, fingers curling, “you’re such a greedy baby. want every drop, huh?”

you nod, tongue out, eyes glazed behind your glasses, words coming out in a desperate babble, “always yours… all your cum… feel it filling me up… i’m gonna burst… so full… fuck, jakey… don’t stop, don’t stop… keep fucking me full…”

he grabs your hips tight, lifting you just enough to watch the milky cum spill out again, thick ribbons falling slow and sticky over his cock and thighs. “can’t get enough of this mess, huh? you’re dripping all over me.”

you whine, voice soft and dumb, adjusting your glasses with a shaky hand, “i’m so dumb… so wet… all your cum… i’m gonna stay like this forever… need you to fill me again… make me your cumslut…”

he leans up, kisses your temple, then slides back inside, cock pulsing deep as he spills into you again—warm, heavy, endless. the fresh load slips out over and over, mixing with everything else until your pussy’s slick, swollen, and shining in the dim light.

you moan loud, voice cracking, “jakey… fill me… fill me till i’m dripping… till i’m full… till there’s no space left… want you to ruin me… i’m so yours… always yours…”

he presses his forehead to yours, glasses slightly askew on your face now, voice low and rough, “you’re mine, baby. mine to fill, mine to ruin. and i’m not done with you yet.”

your body shudders, hips rolling with whatever strength you have left, riding the endless flood of him while your mind melts away into pure, babbling pleasure—lost in the sound of skin slapping, cum dripping, and your own helpless, needy moans.

© sualette

[jngwonu]

i need a big boy 𖤐 [p.sh]

you've heard the stories and you know what happens to bunnies that enter the woods at night. really, it’s your fault. you knew this would happen. it’s like you wanted this… no? oh, but didn’t you?

☆ pairing → wolf!sunghoon x afab bunny!reader

☆ word count → 3.9k

☆ tags → oneshot, wolf!sunghoon x bunny!reader, little red riding hood inspired, petnames (bun, bunny, u get it), reader is a little dumb

☆ smut tags → pwp, noncon/dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f!receiving), loss of virginity, some blood, blood kink, virginity kink, breeding kink, mentions of womb/cervix/cherry-popping, knotting, saliva/drool, squirting, biting/claiming, mentions of death, this is just a tiny bit nasty :3

☆ warnings → pls heed the tags! noncon/dubcon claiming :3 lapslock + not proofread i’m sleep deprived and Crazy rn.

☆ a/n → wrote this trying to get out of my writer’s block </3 pls enjoy my belligerent 1am insanity

minors dni. dark content ahead.

♪ all the girls are needing, i need a big boy give me a big boy, i need a big boy

“h-hello? is anyone there?”

your voice is soft and shaky. your soft, plush white ears stand tall as they flick, listening for something—anything. your tail is stiff in fear and you can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you don’t know how you got here; the middle of the dark, dangerous woods that are in no way a place for something like you, at least not this late at night. you’ve never ventured this far at night, you know better—you know that it isn’t safe for bunnies like you.

you’ve heard the stories of what happens to bunnies like you when they get caught. you’ve seen the bodies brought back to your village—bloodied, mangled, dead and used. every corpse that was brought back reeked of… of wolves.

you were just supposed to be on your way to your grandma’s house. every month, on the same day, your grandma calls you to her house for a visit. usually you make the journey with your mother, but your mother is terribly sick with a cold and told you it was okay for you to venture alone.

“you’ll be okay, sunshine. whatever you do, stay on the trail. do not leave the path. if it starts getting dark, come back.” your mom’s voice was sweet and caring as she packed you a basket with treats for you and your grandma to share.

your mother trusted you enough with this, and you didn’t want to let her down. you missed your grandma terribly and wanted nothing more than to make it to her house safely.

but—there’s always a but.

you’re lost.

somehow you managed to stray from the trail. something distracted you, but in your fear you can’t even seem to recall what it was. one second you were walking the trail like a good daughter, and the next the sun was gone and so was the path.

you tried to find your way back, but it only caused you to be more confused and lost. it was dark, the only light coming from the glow of the full moon. you were whimpering in fear. the full moon only means one thing: wolves.

somewhere along your search back to the trail, you heard something. there was a snap! then it was quiet, too quiet. the silence is eerie, uncomfortable. you feel like you’re being watched… like something is there with you, watching you, waiting for you.

you let out another sound of distress, your ears flicking anxiously. you freeze when you hear the sound again, closer this time. you don’t move—you can’t. you’re frozen in place, just like a helpless prey.

“hello? is anyone there?” your voice shakes. you’re trembling, your fingers gripping the basket so tight that the wood starts to splinter. “hello?”

then, you hear a chuckle. the sound is low, deep, and it echoes and resonates deep within you.

“tsk, tsk, tsk.” the voice is getting closer. “poor little bunny, are you lost?”

your eyes widen like saucers when the owner of the voice shows itself. a wolf. you’re frozen in fear still, not knowing whether to run and hide or to freeze and accept your fate.

“w-wolf!” you stutter, your voice not able to reach a complete scream. you can’t scream, you can’t run. it’s too late.

“pretty bunny, are you lost?” the wolf repeats himself. “i can show you the way. i don’t bite.”

the wolf emphasizes the word with a big grin, the moonlight glints and his canines radiate.

“oh, what sharp teeth you have,” you whimper. “you’re not going to eat me?”

“no, bunny,” the wolf still has that wolfish grin on hus face. “i would never eat a bunny. i’m a nice wolf, you can trust me…”

“_____,” against your better judgement, you tell the wolf your name. “will you really show me the way?”

“yes, bunny,” the wolf nods, taking a few steps closer. his eyes rake up and down your trembling body, and his gaze stops at the very end of your cloak. “my name is sunghoon, bun.”

“s-sunghoon?”

the wolf, sunghoon, nods. “sounds so pretty comin’ from your mouth, bun. what are you doing out here all alone? it isn’t safe for an innocent bunny like you. you’d be eaten alive by some real bad wolves by now if i hadn’t found you.”

your cheeks heat, and your gaze drops to the floor. your ears droop at the shame of being lost. “i’m just trying to make it to my grandma’s house, mr. wolf. she lives near the middle of the forest, by the big lake.”

“ah, does she now?” sunghoon licks his lips. “i know exactly where that is. you’re lucky you ran into me tonight, bun. i can show you the way.”

“really?” you perk up, meeting his eyes again. he’s closer now, so close that if you reached your arm out you would be able to touch him. he smells… oddly okay, not like how the other bunnies at your village describe wolves to smell like. he smells of grass and flowers and oak, not like the blood of bunnies. “please, please, please!”

sunghoon chuckles, his gaze dark as he looks down at you. the height difference is jarring, he’s over a head taller than you, and from up close you can see that he’s big.

he’s way bigger than you, his arms are so big that the plain t-shirt he’s wearing looks small, way too small for his body. he has prominent veins along his forearms and hands that pop out and twitch with his every movement, and his chest is so extremely large that it looks as if he has ginormous pecs. his shoulders are so broad, and you think that sunghoon is probably very strong.

“of course, bunny. you just have to follow me. i know a shortcut to the lake. it’s very close, just up ahead. maybe another half mile.” sunghoon reaches his hand out, offering it to you. “come, bun. let me take you.”

you’re trusting—too trusting for your own good—as you take his hand, letting him enclose his large palm over your small hand.

sunghoon leads you deeper into the woods, and you follow him blindly. you can’t wait to be at your grandma’s house, and you trust that sunghoon will lead you there in no time.

it’s odd, though. you haven’t seen or heard a single animal or creature near you in minutes.

“you’re very pretty, bunny. your cloak seems so soft and warm.” sunghoon’s voice breaks the silence. “i wonder, what are you wearing underneath it?”

“thank you. my grandma gifted me this cloak,” you say, softly. “i’m wearing a dress my grandma also handmade for me.”

“mmm,” sunghoon hums. “you smell very good, bun. like chocolate and vanilla. i wonder how you taste, too.”

you shiver. “what?”

“nothing, bun. we’re almost there.”

you start to tremble again, but then you smell the water, and you know the lake is near. your parents always told you to not trust wolves, that wolves will only tear you apart and lick your bones clean one by one, but this wolf—sunghoon, has been trustworthy. he didn’t eat you.

the lake comes into view moments later, the water practically sparkles underneath the moonlight.

you gasp. “sunghoon! you really brought me here! thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“i told you, bunny,” sunghoon grins. “your grandma’s house should be near. are you staying overnight?”

“no, i’m supposed to return home tonight, my parents will be worried sick if i don’t…”

“then i shall wait for you, bun. i will accompany you on your way back home to make sure you make it safe and sound.”

“oh,” you say, surprised. “you would do that?”

“of course. i have to make sure you don’t get eaten by any wolves… hm?”

“o-okay,” you murmur, sheepish. “i shouldn’t be long.”

sunghoon nods, and you rush off to your grandma’s. her house is only around the corner, so the walk is quick.

you think about sunghoon the whole way there. he proved that wolves aren’t all bad. some wolves can be trusted and some wolves won’t eat you. everything you’ve learned about wolves was wrong, and you can’t wait to go back to your village and spread the new information you learned.

“grandma! i’m here!”

your grandma’s house is warm and comforting as you enter. you set the basket of goods on her small wooden table.

“dear! you made it!” your grandma approaches you, rushing you into a hug. “i was so scared, dear. it’s so late at night.”

“yes, grandma. i’m safe.” you reassure her. “mom packed you some sweets, your favorite.”

“ah, did she—” your grandma stills. “dear, what’s that smell?”

you sniff the air. “what do you mean?”

“you—you reek of wolf!”

“grandma, it’s okay! please, calm down! the wolf helped me here! he didn’t try to eat me!”

“you’re a traitor—traitor!” your grandma backs away in horror. “you brought a wolf here? you need to leave, now.”

“no, grandma, please! he wouldn’t hurt me, or you!” you reach for her, wanting to console her, but she flinches away like she’s been burned.

“no family of mine will be in contact with a wolf,” your grandma spits the word like it’s poison. “get out. never come back.”

“no, grandma!”

she rushes you out the door, locking it behind you and leaving you out in the cold with nothing but your cloak. you sniffle, hot tears making their way down your cheeks as you sob and knock on the door rapidly.

“grandma! please! let me in!” you cry, helplessly holding onto the doorknob like she’ll open it. “please!”

it seems like an eternity that passes before you get tired of trying. your grandma disowned you and left you in the cold. you can’t go back, what if the rest of the town also treats you the same way? what do you do?

you get a brilliant idea then. you’ll go to the lake and wash yourself. you’ll wash the scent of sunghoon away and make it back home. nobody will know.

you make it a few steps before you smell it again—him.

“bunny? what’s wrong?” sunghoon steps into view. his face is masked with concern and pity. “poor little bunny, why are you crying?”

“my grandma—she,” the thought of your grandma has you breaking down once more. you rush into sunghoon’s arms, his big chest comforts you. “she left me! she told me to get out as i smell like a wolf, and told me she never wanted to see me again!”

sunghoon cradles your head as you sob into his chest. “shh, there, there. it’ll be alright, bunny. she just doesn’t understand.”

“i have to go to the lake—i have to wash off before i go home. or else they—they won’t accept me back.”

“okay, bunny. let’s go to the lake and wash you off. then i’ll walk you home, okay?” sunghoon’s voice is deep and low, and somehow comforting.

you nod, sniffling, and let sunghoon lead you to the lake, hand in hand.

sunghoon is quiet as he leads you both knee deep into the water. he reaches for your cloak, and you let him undress you. your cries quiet now, only sniffles escape every few moments.

sunghoon drops your cloak somewhere below you, before reaching for the straps of your small, silk babydoll dress.

he sucks in a breath, but you’re too overwhelmed by your grandma to pay any mind to it. he undoes the straps one by one, before letting your dress slide down and fall into the water as well.

“bunny,” sunghoon murmurs. “kneel and wash yourself.”

you obey, making sure to rinse yourself and get rid of the wolf scent on you. after your fur is soaked and your body is freezing, you consider yourself clean enough.

“bunny, you’re shaking,” sunghoon says. “are you cold?”

you nod, and sunghoon coos. “but your clothes are all wet. whatever will we do?”

“i-i don’t know…” you’re freezing and trembling so much that your teeth chatter as your tail drips water into the lake. “it’s so cold.” you whine.

“aw, is my bunny cold?” sunghoon coos again. “do you need me to warm you up?”

you nod, and sunghoon grins. “come here, bunny. come to me.”

you step closer to him, and he pulls you in roughly. he wraps his arms around you, enclosing your body with his larger one. he’s so warm, extremely warm, and you let out a soft sigh as your body finally starts to warm up.

“you’re so small, bunny,” sunghoon’s breath hits your ears as he speaks. “and so soft, so supple and soft.”

you whine, shy, and then you feel it.

“s-sunghoon… something is poking me,” you whisper.

“is there?” sunghoon murmurs, his voice low and dripping something you aren’t sure of.

the hardness you feel twitches, pressing deeper against your thigh. you’re scared to look down, scared of what you might see.

“sunghoon, it—it’s…”

“fuck,” sunghoon growls, suddenly. you flinch at his outburst, your ears stiffening and standing tall upon your head. “i can’t hold back anymore.”

“sunghoon, what?” you say, your voice shaking.

sunghoon ignores you, picking you up and out of the water, carrying you in his arms as he reaches grass and mud again.

“you make me crazy, bun,” sunghoon’s voice is rough as he speaks. “i can’t hold back anymore. not when you’re nude and presenting yourself so nicely to me.”

“s-sunghoon?” you tremble in his hold. he releases you, then, to put you back onto your feet.

when you meet his eyes again, he looks different. gone is the comforting face you thought you knew, and now there’s a predatory, evil look in his eyes.

“please, sunghoon, you’re scaring me.” you plead, whisper. “sunghoon?”

it’s like he can’t hear you. he doesn’t answer as he leans down, his hands on your bare waist as he presses his nose into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply.

“fuck, bun, you smell so good,” sunghoon groans, and you feel the hardness return. sunghoon grinds against your leg, and your tail stiffens in fear. “you smell so delicious, bunny. so perfect for me. i’m going to tear you apart.”

“sunghoon, no! please!” you cry and beg. he wouldn’t eat you, he’d never, right?

“don’t worry, bun. i’m not going to eat you,” sunghoon chuckles and it vibrates against your skin. he licks a stripe from your collarbone to your ear, before whispering, “but i’m going to ravage you. you’re mine now, bunny.”

you tremble in his hold, cringing at the feeling of his tongue against your skin. “no! sunghoon! please, please!”

then suddenly, sunghoon lets you go. “no?”

“no!” you cry, pleading. “please!”

“run, bunny,” sunghoon smirks, his sharp canines making an appearance again. “i’ll count to three. i’ll give you a headstart. if i catch you, i get to take you.”

you turn on your heels immediately, scrambling to run for your life. you’re still naked, and the ground is rough on your feet as you try to dodge rocks and branches.

“one…”

you’re heaving, running so hard that you feel like you might throw up.

“two…”

but bunnies are known for being quick, aren’t they?

“three! i’m coming, bunny. you can’t hide from me!”

your heart drops. you don’t know where you are, but you know that sunghoon is already close, you hear his footsteps gradually getting closer to you, and you have nowhere to hide. you look around frantically, looking for something, anything.

your eyes land on a small hole, just big enough to burrow yourself in. that’s it, you think. you’ll hide there.

you’re almost in the hole, digging yourself deeper when you smell him.

“poor little bunny,” sunghoon’s voice is too close. “are you lost?”

he growls, and you feel his fingers close around your ankle as you get violently dragged from the hole. you were so close.

you let out a bloodcurdling scream.

“found you.” sunghoon looks crazy. he’s panting, his eyes wide with excitement. “i told you, you can’t hide from me. you’re mine. i could smell your fear from a mile away. could smell your sweet, little pussy calling out to me.

“no! please, let me go!” you thrash in his hold, but it’s no use. sunghoon is stronger than you as he straddles your hips, your wrists above your head and held by one of his hands as the other explores your body.

“shhh, bun. i’ll take good care of you,” sunghoon laughs, in a frenzy. “you smell unmated, fresh and sweet. i’ve never taken a bunny before. it’ll be both our first times, hm?”

you can’t reply anymore, you’re choking on your spit and tears, and you’re more than sure that there’s snot rolling down the sides of your cheeks as well.

“sweet, virgin bunny,” sunghoon leans in to lick your cheek, eating up all your tears and wetness. “you taste so good, i wonder how you taste down here.”

you kick your legs and thrash when sunghoon lifts his hips. it’s the wrong move, because sunghoon comes back up to snap his teeth at you. he bites at your jaw, not hard enough to break skin but enough to make you go limp—tranquilizing you.

“stay still, bunny. or i really might just eat you instead.”

you cry silently, finally giving up as sunghoon disappears below you. he spreads your legs open, exhaling at the sight of your pussy, all presented to him.

“you look delicious,” sunghoon leans in, inhaling deeply as he uses his fingers to spread your folds, exposing yourself to him. you feel wetness as he licks a stripe from your asshole to your clit. “you taste so good—i’m never going to get enough of you, bunny.”

you whimper as he licks you—practically eating you with his mouth. your clit is sensitive, the nub starting to swell against your will as he continues to devour you with his tongue.

“bunny,” sunghoon murmurs. “you like this, don’t you?”

“n-no! no, no!” you say, weak. you shake your head, trembling as your ears flatten.

“oh? but your body betrays you. your hole is already getting itself ready for my cock.” sunghoon chuckles, evil. “so wet already.”

sunghoon trails his fingers from your thighs to your pussy, and your hole flutters as he slowly sticks his two fingers past your entrance.

“fuck, bun, you’re so tight,” sunghoon groans. “your little virgin pussy is going to break when i get my cock in you. how are you going to take my knot like this?”

your eyes widen in fear. “knot? no—sunghoon, i can’t!”

“but you will,” sunghoon raises himself, and you’re horrified to see that he’s already nude. his cock is huge, hard and leaking. his cock is a deep shade of red, bordering on purple with how hard he is. “you’ll make it fit. it’s okay if it doesn’t. i’m still going to take you anyways.”

you shake your head as he gets closer to you, one hand around his cock as the tip prods at your entrance. “no! sunghoon! i’m not ready—you’re going to break me! please!”

sunghoon growls. “shut up. take it. take it like the innocent virgin bunny you are. i’m going to ruin you, you’re going to reek of alpha once i’m done with you. you’ll never be able to go home after this.”

he pushes into you roughly, and you can’t hold back the scream you let out. your voice cracks with the intensity of your scream. the pain is unbearable, your body just wants to cave in on itself and shut down.

“fuck, you’re so tight. i’m going to break you. i’m going to fill you with my litter. you’re never leaving, you’ll take my cum and carry my pups forever.”

sunghoon groans, his eyes never leaving yours as he fucks into you roughly, his balls slapping against your buttcheeks with every thrust. you smell the blood—the blood that leaves your cunt as sunghoon’s cock breaks past the first layer inside of you. it drips down your cheeks and onto the dirty ground beneath you, and you’re ashamed.

you’re no longer a virgin anymore. you’ve been taken and broken in by the worst kind—a wolf.

sunghoon growls, animalistic, slamming into you at a pace ao brutal that it bruises your insides—bruising your cervix. then you feel it, the tip of his cock breaching so deep into you, practically reaching your womb.

“you feel that?” sunghoon groans, rolling his eyes. “i’m so deep inside you, bunny. i’ve broken you, i’m going to fuck you so good, every day, every day until your stomach is round with my pups. and then i’ll do it again, and again, and again.”

you cry, but your body betrays you. the pain and pleasure makes you want to just die. you’re torn between submitting and fighting back.

your body seems to decide for you as you tighten around sunghoon’s cock.

“fuck, yeah, you like this, don’t you? you like being used by me, huh? fucking whore. just wanted to get your virginity stolen away from you by a big, bad wolf, hm? that’s all you really needed, right?”

sunghoon never lets up. his cock pushes past the entrance of your womb with every thrust, and he’s losing himself in the feeling of being inside your tight, wet heat. your walls are so soft, so tight, practically sucking him in every time he pulls back out, just to slam back in harder than before.

your body keeps betraying you, because on a particularly hard thrust, you seize up, releasing wet, clear liquid all over sunghoon’s cock.

“i’m—i’m peeing!” you squeal, your release still squirting like a waterfall on sunghoon’s cock.

“fuck, bunny, your little pussy just squirted all over me. you like it that much? fuck, fuck,” sunghoon growls, leaning down and pressing his face into your neck. “that’s it, keep squirting on alpha’s cock, just like that. make it all wet for me, fuck!”

sunghoon does the unimaginable then; he bites you. his teeth sink deep into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, biting down and breaking skin, his canines drawing blood from you.

you cry and scream and thrash in his hold, your pussy weakly clenching around his cock as he forces his mating bite onto you—claiming you as his for life.

you feel his cock swell, growing larger and bigger. you panic, trying to push him off of you, but it’s no use. he’s going to knot you, and you have no choice but to take it.

he pushes into you, breaking you open and shoving his knot inside of you. it hurts, you feel like you’ve been ripped open, and you can feel his body shake with pleasure as he finally releases his cum into your womb.

he keeps grinding and grinding as his cock shoots out more cum, filling you up with his white, hot release, marking you from the inside out.

he releases your neck, then, finally pulling his teeth out of you. you meet his eyes in horror, your mouth dropping open with a sob when you see blood—your blood all over sunghoon’s lips and chin.

he smirks, his teeth stained red, as he licks his lips.

“you’re mine now, little bunny. you can’t ever hide from me again.”

sunghoon grinds his cock, inflated with his knot, inside of you, and you know now—this is never going to end.

a/n: i feel insane it’s 2am i finished this in an hour pls bare w me if there r any mistakes…

masterlist

[jngwonu]

do u have any thoughts on possessive fwb jay.... who maybe probably secretly likes reader but doesn't want to accept it....

oh anon.. you asked the right person.

✧ tw. smut (18+ mdni!), unprotected + rough sex, jealousy, hairpulling, degradation

the minute jay sees a random guy all close to you on your instagram story, he's pissed. no, he didn't know that you guys were friends. and no, he doesn't care.

that's how he finds himself barging inside your apartment like he owns the place, and doesn’t waste time fucking you stupid. he has your back arched on the couch, your face digging into the cushions while his hand fists your hair and his cock slams into you repeatedly.

"who the fuck was that in your story, huh? you think that’s cute? letting randoms all over you like that?" he groans, breathless from driving his hips back and forth without slowing.

you try to speak but it comes out all breathy and whiny. he’s got you so cockdrunk your brain’s not even working.

"answer me," he demands, staring down at your ass that recoils every time his hips snap into it.

"j-jay, fuck.. i thought we were just friends w-with benefits—" you manage, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes.

"oh yeah? but does his cock fuck you like this?" he laughs, his pace slowing but getting deeper, brushing your cervix with every rough thrust, making your eyes roll back and your mouth fall open.

"he doesn't, right? cause only you take my cock this good." he murmurs, yanking your hair so your head tips back, your brain all foggy as he keeps babbling about how he’s the only one who fucks into your little pussy like he means it. and he knows it, always has.

"this pussy’s mine—fuck. don’t make me remind you again." he groans, before filling you up with his warm spurts and watching it leak out of your core, dripping all over the cushions. he made the mess that is you at the moment, and he loves it.

and best believe he’ll do it every time he gets jealous !! because friends don’t get to fuck you like this. though he’s not just your friend.. anymore.

© emisluvr 2025. all rights reserved.

[jngwonu]

quiet, nerdy lab partner sunghoon who's secretly a freak in bed 🥵 emiii i know ur brain would have something scrumptious on it 🙂‍↕️

mmm.. you already know it would anon :3

✧ tw. smut (18+ mdni!), light choking, rough sex, dirty talk, college au

in class, sunghoon’s reserved. quiet stares, rolled-up sleeves, glasses low on his nose as he works away at his experiments and notes, barely paying attention to anything else around him.

and when it comes to you, his seating partner, he always scolds. "you measured that wrong," he says in a cold tone, eyeing you up and down.

but in your dorm bedroom? he’s anything but reserved.

your skirt’s hiked up and panties tugged to the side, and he’s fucking you like he’s been holding back for weeks. your pussy’s soaked, stretched around him so perfectly after he made you cum all over his fingers—one hand gripping your hip, the other wrapped loosely around your throat.

"wanted to fuck you on that lab table," he mutters against your lips, cock slipping in deep as your walls clench around him. his grip tightens when you moan his name, eyes rolling back like you can’t even think.

"you’d look so pretty drooling on the desk," he breathes, snapping his hips into yours rougher, filth spilling from his mouth each time. "bet you’d cum just from my fingers in front of everyone, huh?"

you’re shaking under him, overwhelmed, begging for him to finish inside. which he does, spilling milky spurts deep inside with a shaky moan, forehead pressed to yours.

now, every time you’re sitting beside him in class, all you can think about is how fucking ruined he left you.

© emisluvr 2025. all rights reserved.

[jngwonu]

hiii emiii :> i hearteu hearteu all your works !! you’re an AMAZING WRITER. i’m always blushing and shiii when i read your drabbles. slay ate queen pur.

also… thoughts about jay with size kink, spit kink and breeding kink… i’m DROOLING to the point i need help… mating press and shiiitttt manifesting jay to come into my dreams and spit in my mouth ok 👅 ok thank u sorry have a nice day meow 😘

thank youu sm anon, you're the sweetest! >< guess you're rly hungry today huh..

✧ tw. smut (18+ mdni!), size + spit + breedking kink, unprotected sex, dumbification, overstim

"so tiny, baby," jay pants, one hand wrapped around your throat as he watches you trapped beneath him, chest to chest, legs pinned up high. "can't believe you’re taking all of me. look at that.. s'like you were made for my cock."

you’re barely able to reply, brain turned into mush with the stretch of his cock splitting you open, the constant slap of his hips against yours filling the room. you can only moan, fingers gripping at his arms as his cock drives deeper inside you.

"feels too good, huh? dumb little baby can’t even speak anymore," he coos, smirking as he watches you become a mess for him. he grabs your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. "tongue out, doll."

when you do, he leans down and spits straight into your mouth, watching as it lands right on your tongue. "swallow it. good girl."

his pace becomes more intense, his tip brushing just beneath your cervix, sweat beads falling from his forehead as his eyes refuse to leave yours. "gonna fill this pussy up, okay baby?"

"j-jay, please—" you beg, but your pleas are cut off by a choked cry when he angles his hips just right, perfectly hitting your sweet spot that he knows so well by now, making your core tighten around him.

"gonna stuff you nice and full, yeah? bet you'd like that.. walkin' around leaking my cum. wanna see it drip down your thighs."

your release hits with a cry of his name, body trembling. a few more thrusts later, and jay's grinding deep inside, cock twitching as he pumps you full, just as he'd promised.

"fuck, look at that.. taking every drop. my perfect little fucktoy." he smirks, ruffling your hair as he presses soft kisses to your face, despite how absolutely ruined you look at the moment. "told you i'd take care of you, doll. gonna keep you full forever, hm?"

© emisluvr 2025. all rights reserved.

[jngwonu]

𐔌 ིঌ smut 𓈒 jake. idk that’s really all..

529──제이크 x f!rea use of ‘sir’ petnames unprotected sex switch!jake.. teasing

you knew from the second he kissed you—open-mouthed and impatient, lips dragging down your neck like he needed it to breathe—that jake wasn’t going to last.

he always started like this. bossy. cocky. all bark and no real bite, murmuring half-baked orders in that low, raspy voice he thought sounded dominant. “get on the bed.” “don’t touch me until i say so.” “you’re gonna take everything i give you, got it?”

but then you nodded with that sweet little ‘yes, sir’ that made his knees tremble, and suddenly, he was the one obeying.

“god—fuck,” he groaned, rutting against your thigh as you kissed up his jaw, dragging your fingers down the center of his chest. “you can’t say that. you know what that does to me…”

he tried to stay on top of it. kept saying he was in control. that he was gonna fuck you so deep you’d be dripping for days. and sure, he got your panties off and even managed to line himself up, hips snug between your thighs, tip brushing where you needed it most—

but that was about as far as his dominance held.

you moaned his name once. soft. breathy. nothing exaggerated. and his head dropped, forehead pressing against your shoulder like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact.

“don’t say it like that,” he mumbled, voice cracking halfway through. “i’m—I’m trying to last, babe, please—”

he thrusted in slowly, whining as your walls clenched around him, eyes fluttering shut with a full-body shiver. the first few strokes were deep, deliberate, his hands gripping your hips like he could ground himself, like maybe this time he wouldn’t fall apart.

but then you gasped. dragged your nails down his back. whispered “you feel so good, jake,” with that fucked-out voice he loved so much—and it was over.

he lost the rhythm entirely.

“shitshitshit, i’m gonna cum,” he whimpered, pushing in all the way, pelvis grinding into yours in desperation. “fuck, you’re so tight. so wet. can’t—can’t even think straight when you squeeze me like that—”

you smirked, kissed the corner of his mouth, and asked—real casual—“you gonna cum already, sir?”

he whined. out loud. actually buried his face in your neck like you’d humiliated him.

“n-no,” he tried, breath catching, hips jerking against yours. “i’m not—I’m not that weak. i’m supposed to be in charge, baby, come on…”

but his body betrayed him. trembling arms, stuttering thrusts, his voice all breathy and soft, desperate for approval.

and then he said it. all breathless and ruined, eyes glassy as he stared down at you.

“can i cum inside? please? please let me, i need to. i’ll be so good for you, i promise, just—just tell me i can—”

you nodded, barely, and he shuddered. came with a long, broken moan, hips pressed flush, your name leaving his mouth like a prayer.

afterward, he collapsed on top of you, trembling still, mumbling apologies into your skin like he hadn’t just whimpered his way through the best orgasm of his life.

“gimme five minutes,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “i’ll fuck you properly. i swear this time…”

you just smiled, already knowing he wouldn’t last then either.

[jngwonu]

𝓓efinition of a cool guy

psh x f!reader | warnings: blowjob, reader is obsessed with Sunghoon | wordcount: 1k

You couldn’t help it. Sunghoon was everything. The way he moved, the way he talked, the way his lips curved into that effortlessly cool smirk. It all drove you wild.

He was the definition of a cool guy.

Leather jacket slung over his shoulder, hair always perfectly tousled and a confidence that made everyone in the room turn their heads.

You’d been obsessed with him from the moment you met and now, months into dating, that obsession hadn’t faded. If anything, it was stronger. You worshipped the ground he walked on and he knew it. God, did he know it.

Tonight, you were at his place, sprawled on his couch, watching him as he leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping a drink. The way his throat bobbed when he swallowed, the way his fingers curled around the glass. It was unfair how hot he was without even trying. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, your heart racing just from being in the same room. He caught you staring and smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You good over there?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You weren’t good. You were burning up, your whole body buzzing with want. “You’re too hot,” you blurted, your cheeks flushing the second the words left your mouth. “It’s not fair.”

He chuckled, setting his drink down and walking over to you. His stride was slow, deliberate, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He stopped in front of you, towering over where you sat, his presence overwhelming. “You’re cute when you’re like this,” he said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers brushed your skin and you swore you felt sparks.

“I’m always like this,” you mumbled, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I can’t help it. You’re perfect.”

He grinned, clearly eating up your words. “Perfect, huh?” He leaned down, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your lips. “You’re gonna make my ego even worse.”

“Good,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “You deserve it.”

He laughed softly, but there was a glint in his eyes, something darker, hungrier. He straightened up, his hand resting on your cheek as he looked down at you. “You’re too good to me,” he said, his tone softer now, almost reverent. “What am I gonna do with you?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you slid off the couch, dropping to your knees in front of him. His eyes widened slightly, but that cool, composed look never left his face. He watched you, one brow raised, as your hands reached for his belt, your fingers trembling with anticipation. “Can I?” you asked, looking up at him like he was a god you were begging to please.

He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something warmer. “You don’t have to ask,” he said, his voice low. “You know I’m yours.”

Your heart skipped at that, your obsession with him swelling even more. You undid his belt, your hands moving quickly, eagerly, as you freed him from his jeans. He was already half hard and the sight of him made your mouth water. You didn’t waste time, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly, your eyes never leaving his face. You wanted to see every reaction, every flicker of pleasure.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough as he watched you. “You’re too much.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip before taking him into your mouth. He groaned, his hand finding your hair, not pushing, just resting there like he was grounding himself. You moved slowly at first, savoring the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him, the way his breath hitched every time you took him deeper. You worshipped him with every flick of your tongue, every gentle scrape of your teeth, pouring all your love and obsession into making him feel good.

His head tipped back, his lips parting as he let out a low moan. “You’re so good at this,” he said, his voice strained, like he was trying to keep his cool but failing. “Too good.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making him curse under his breath. You loved this. Loved how you could make him unravel, how the coolest guy you’d ever met was coming apart because of you. You moved faster, your hand working in time with your mouth, determined to push him over the edge. His grip on your hair tightened, his hips bucking slightly and you could tell he was close.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice rough but soft, almost pleading. You obeyed instantly, your eyes locking with his as you kept going, your heart pounding at the intensity in his gaze. He was watching you like you were everything, like you were the only thing that mattered.

When he came, he groaned your name, his voice sending shivers down your spine. You didn’t pull away, swallowing every drop, your eyes still on his as he rode out the high. When he was done, you pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, your cheeks flushed with pride and love.

He reached down, pulling you to your feet and kissing you hard, his hands cupping your face like you were something precious. “You’re insane,” he muttered against your lips, his voice still a little shaky. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” you said, your voice fierce as you pressed yourself closer to him. “You’re everything to me, Sunghoon. Everything.”

He smiled, that cool, effortless grin that made your heart skip and pulled you into his arms. “I love you,” he said simply, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And you knew you’d spend the rest of your life worshipping him, because he was worth every second of it.

[jngwonu]

He love the way I ride it

You and jungwon were friends you both met through Jake at an event and since then you and jungwon have been pretty close.

Tonight he invited you to a late-night studio session. He’d texted around midnight “Need your ear for this track, please” and you proudly agreed but you didn’t expect things to go left.

When you arrived, he was alone, headphones resting around his neck, fingers tapping a beat on the console. The moment he saw you in the doorway jeans hugging your curves, lips stained red, his whole world tilted.

“Hey, y/n” he said, voice husky. The way he said your name felt like electricity in your veins.

“Hey,” you answered, closing the distance.

He handed you the headphones and played the rough cut of the song: that pulsing bass, those breathy vocals, the promise of something sexy and urgent in every note. You swayed to the beat, hips moving almost involuntarily.

He watched. Eyes fixed on your body like a man starving for more than just music.

When the track faded, the room was silent except for Jungwon’s ragged breath.

“You ride that beat like you were born for it,” he murmured, stepping closer. “Show me.”

Your heart thundered as he unzipped his hoodie, revealing bare skin and the hint of muscle under the studio’s soft lights. Without thinking, you reached for his belt.

He grabbed your hand, stopping you. “Not yet.”

He guided you to the leather couch and sat you down, brushing a finger along your thigh. The contact was electric. He leaned in, lips brushing your earlobe: “Everything about you drives me crazy.”

Your breath hitched. He stood and tugged you to your feet, pressing you against the glass window overlooking the empty parking lot. His mouth found yours, slow and demanding, as one hand curled in your hair and the other roamed over your hips.

You melted into him, slipping your hands over his warm skin. He groaned and stepped back, lifting you effortlessly onto the sill. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he kicked off his shoes, throwing them to the side.

“I want to see you move,” he whispered, voice thick with need.

You closed your eyes and began to ride him, rocking your hips, rolling your pelvis to an imaginary beat, watching as his hands slid to your waist to guide you, his breath coming faster with every roll.

The sensation of his length pressing into you through his boxers made you gasp, Jungwon’s eyes darkened.

“Fuck,” he groaned, tugging down his pants. His dick finally sprang free, hard and shining. He lined himself at your entrance, then you sank down on him slowly.

You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulders. The friction was everything, the way you fit around him, the way he filled you, the slick heat flooding between your thighs.

“Ride me,” he rasped, gripping your hips. “Show me how you like it.”

You obeyed, bouncing once to feel the full length, then setting a steady pace rocking up and down, grinding back and forth. His hands clamped to your ass, squeezing and lifting you higher.

“Just like that,” he urged, voice thick. “So good.”

His encouragement fueled you. You went faster, hips snapping, breasts brushing his chest. He thrust up to meet you, deep and hard, matching your rhythm.

Every time you looked at him every time his gaze locked on yours your stomach twisted and your breath caught. You could feel him losing control, pupils blown wide, jaw clenched. The power of your ride had him in a trance.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he panted, guiding you backward so you were straddling his lap facing him. Your arms curled around his neck, pulling him deeper as he thrust into you relentlessly.

His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you as you rode out your orgasm, a shuddering release that left you breathless and trembling.

He didn’t stop. He kept going, fuck­ing you through your release until his own release hit a hot pulse deep inside you as he came, groaning your name.

For a moment you both stayed still, chests heaving, foreheads resting together.

A few hours later

He lies awake in the dark studio, replaying the feel of you riding him, your voice calling out in pleasure. His stomach twists, knees go weak. Every mix he does, every beat he writes, he imagines you moving to it, your body, your confidence, your fire. He texts you at 3 AM: “I miss you already.”

Later that day Jungwon couldn’t focus during dance practice. Every turn, every beat, his mind slipped back to the memory of you riding him, your hips rolling, your breathy moans, the way your body clenched around him like a vise. His stomach twisted, his knees felt weak every time he closed his eyes.

By the end of rehearsal, he was dripping with sweat but shaking with need. He ducked past his members, grabbed his keys, and practically sprinted out of the building and into a waiting taxi.

He stood on your porch, heart thudding so loud he swore you could hear it through the door. You opened the door in jeans and a tank top, hair falling in soft curls around your shoulders. When you saw him, your breath caught.

“Jungwon…” you whispered.

He didn’t answer. He simply closed the distance, pressing you back against the door with urgent hands on your hips. His mouth crashed into yours hard, demanding, tongue plunging in to claim yours.

You moaned into him, arms wrapping around his neck as he lifted you, hooking your legs around his waist. He carried you inside, kissing a trail along your jaw, neck, collarbone, until you settled onto the edge of your bed.

He stared at you his eyes dark with need, he ripped off your jeans in one motion. You kicked them aside, braless under your tank, nipples pebbled and begging. He peeled it off with one hand while tugging his own shirt over his head.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, eyes drinking you in.

He knelt between your legs, thumb brushing your clothed slit. You gasped at the feather-light touch, hips arching. He slid your panties to the side and thumbed your soaked center, drawing a long, slow circle that had you trembling.

“Already this wet for me?” he murmured, lips brushing your inner thigh. He leaned in, tongue dragging up your soaking folds, then pressed two fingers in with a rough curl. You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair.

He held you down, savoring every whimper, every twitch, every shudder as he drilled those fingers in and out. When you were trembling on the edge again, he pulled out, licked his fingers clean, then stood and kicked off his jeans. His cock sprang free, hard,thick and beautiful.

He slid in one slow inch, watching your face as your eyes rolled back. Then he bottomed out and still didn’t move, letting you feel all of him. He rested his forehead on yours.

“You feel so damn good,” he groaned. “I’ve missed this.”

He began to fuck you with long, deep thrusts that pressed right against that spot inside you. You wrapped your legs around his hips, holding him closer, guiding his pace.

His hands gripped your waist, knuckles white as he picked up speed, hard, merciless. The headboard thumped against the wall with each slam. Your moans turned into cries.

“Cum for me,” he panted, voice thick. “Cum on my cock.”

You came, body arching, nails digging into his back, voice raw with need. He rode out your orgasm, spilling inside you in one violent, perfect thrust. You both trembled, breathless, chest to chest.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. Your legs draped over his, skin slick.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “I think I’m going to be weak all week,” he whispered.

You giggled, running your fingers through his damp hair. “Good. I like knowing it’s cuz of me.”

[jngwonu]

pictures do not belong to me

but recently he’s been posing with rilakkuma things and if you know me you KNOW rilakkuma is like my spirit animal this makes me so HAPPY.