swiftjay23

[swiftjay23]

The grinding on the corner of the kitchen counter always does something to me. Frick! Thank you for adding that but I wonder how the other members would react to seeing reader doing something like that.

Hii! I’m so glad someone understands and I didn’t get called out for being a weirdo (which i am) writing that particular scene! Thanks again, I love your request, and I would love to take your request!

Also, yes I’m aware Sunghoon’s was already done (in the original fic) but let’s write it again and give him a whole new reaction, cus the things I would do this man is holy insanity (Like take me already daddy)

MDNI (18+ STRICTLY) 

Original fic this was inspired by!

ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ

You swore you were just cleaning. Just wiping down the counters and waiting for him to get home.

But every passing second without Heeseung made you more tense, more wet. Your panties were soaked through from nothing. Just from thinking about him. His voice. His hands. His cock. His cum. His pretty eyes darkened with lust. It was stupid how easily he ruined you.

And now you were pressed against the cold edge of the counter, forehead resting on your forearm, hips tilted just so. Grinding, slowly. Needy and helpless, like you had no shame.

You let out a breathy whimper, rubbing yourself against the corner harder. You were still in one of his shirts, no panties underneath. You’d tossed those long ago. You didn’t even bother pretending you weren’t dripping on the cabinet. You were fucking humping the counter like a feral animal in heat.

“All day,” you whispered, clenching your eyes shut. “I’ve wanted you all fucking day…” The pressure against your clit made you shake. You rutted your hips down with more urgency, a whine tumbling from your lips. “Please, Hee. Please just fuck me—”

You froze when the door clicked. You didn’t hear him come in. “Heeseung?” you gasped, pushing yourself up in a panic, but it was too late. You’d already made a mess. The edge of the counter glistened with your arousal, and your thighs were shaking from how close you were to cumming.

He stood in the doorway, utterly frozen. Bags still slung over his shoulders. Hat pushed back like he forgot he was wearing it. He looked at you like he might eat you.

Heeseung blinked once. Then twice. And then he dropped the bags. “The fuck were you doing?” he asked lowly, voice like gravel. You stepped back instinctively, trying to hide your face. “I– I missed you.”

“No,” he chuckled, “you were riding the corner of the counter like it owed you money. You didn’t even hear me come in.” “I was desperate,” you breathed, voice trembling with want.

“I can see that,” he growled, already walking over to you. “I could smell your pussy the second I stepped inside.” You whimpered, caught between embarrassment and excitement. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, dark eyes dragging over your flushed, wrecked expression. “You wanted to fuck me all day, huh?” You nodded, lips parted. Heeseung’s voice dropped, breath fanning against your mouth as he leaned in close. “Then bend over, baby. Let me see how wet the counter made you.”

ᴊᴀʏ

You’re aching. It’s unbearable today, something about the way Jay had whispered in your ear this morning, low and warm and teasing, just before leaving the house. He had said something like “If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be able to control myself tonight.”

Tonight. That’s hours away.

And you can’t stop thinking about him.

You’ve been walking around all day in just his t-shirt, no panties, trying to pretend like it’s fine. Like you’re fine. But the way your thighs rub together, the way your clit keeps pulsing from the phantom memory of his mouth, it all starts building into something that’s impossible to ignore.

Which is why you end up here. Grinding desperately against the edge of the cold kitchen counter, whining softly, hips circling and rutting like some kind of insatiable mess. Your hands are planted on the surface, your head hanging low between your shoulders as you move, seeking pressure, friction, anything. You’re already soaked. You know you are. His stupid t-shirt is bunched up at your hips, and the hard corner of the counter is hitting you just right, making your knees shake with each roll of your hips.

“Fuck,” you pant, one hand slipping down to spread your folds a little wider, letting the countertop glide against your swollen clit even better. “Jay… Jay, please…” And that’s exactly when the front door clicks shut. Your heart stops.

Then, “...You were really gonna fuck the counter instead of waiting for me?” His voice is low. Too calm. Too dangerous. You don’t even have time to turn around before Jay’s footsteps are right behind you. A firm hand lands on your ass, squeezing tight, and you gasp, nearly collapsing forward.

“I said tonight,” he growls against your ear. “And you couldn’t even wait a few hours? Humping the kitchen counter like a filthy little slut?” “I—I was trying to wait—” you gasp as he grinds his palm over your dripping core, dragging it slow and humiliating. “I just… couldn’t stop thinking about you…”

Jay curses under his breath. “Of course you couldn’t. You’re insatiable, baby.” Then he’s spinning you around and lifting you up onto the counter like you weigh nothing. His eyes drop to your slick thighs, the way you’re trembling, breathless, needy out of your mind.

“You want to fuck on the counter so bad?” he murmurs. “Fine. Let me give you something better to grind on.”

He drops to his knees. And devours you like he’s starving. “You’re mine,” he pants, hips slamming into you. “If you wanna cum on something, you come on me. Got it?”

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ 

You didn’t mean to get this worked up. The house was quiet. Your body wasn’t.

It started when you bent over to grab a water bottle, and the cool marble brushed your inner thighs just a little too close to your heat. From there, it was downhill. Every movement had your thighs clenching. Every idle thought looped back to Jake, how he sounded when he moaned, how it felt when he’d take you from behind on this exact counter, how warm his tongue was when he sucked bruises into your chest.

And now? Now you were shamelessly rutting your soaked panties against the rounded edge of the kitchen counter.

Eyes fluttered shut. Mouth parted. Fingers curled against the countertop for balance as your hips rocked forward, again and again and again. Soft gasps kept falling from your lips, breath hot and needy. You were practically humping it like a toy, trying to chase some friction, any friction, because your clit was throbbing and slick was already wetting the inside of your thighs.

You didn’t care how embarrassing it was. You needed to come so fucking badly. “I’m gonna fucking lose my mind,” you whispered aloud, grinding harder, faster, as if Jake could hear you. “I need him to fuck me all day long. Like, right now. I need him so bad—” A deep voice broke through your fantasy.

“Need who, baby?” You froze. Your eyes shot open, wide and startled, and standing just a few feet away, leaned casually against the doorway, a black hoodie slung halfway off one shoulder, was Jake. Smirking. Watching. Eating. You. Alive.

“Wanna run that by me again?” he asked, voice lower than sin, licking the leftover strawberry juice off his thumb. “You need me to fuck you all day long?” “Jake—” You moved to stand upright but his hand was already around your waist, pushing you back down, back against the counter.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, rutting himself against your ass, already hard beneath his sweats. “You’re lucky I walked in before you made a mess on the floor. Grinding like a bitch in heat? You’re insatiable.” You whimpered. “Then keep thinking about me, baby. I’m not stopping ‘til you’re crying.”

ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ

It was unbearable.

The way your thighs clenched with every step. The way your panties stuck to you, soaked through and ruined before noon. You were warm all over, feverish, your breath catching every time your mind drifted back to him, to the casual touch of his hand on your hip this morning, the offhanded way he whispered “You’d better behave yourself today, sweetheart.”

He knew what he was doing. Always knew. And now, left alone in the apartment with nothing but the scent of him lingering in the hallway and the echo of his voice in your head, you snapped. You wandered into the kitchen under the pretense of needing water, but your thighs brushed the counter’s edge, and instead of moving away, you stayed. Leaned. Pressed your hips into the edge until your breath hitched and your fingers curled against the marble.

You started to grind.

Tiny, shallow thrusts at first, tentative, desperate. Your breath came quicker. You buried your teeth in your bottom lip to stifle the soft whimper that slipped out when the pressure hit your clit just right. “God,” you breathed, forehead falling to your arm. “Just like that…”

The thought of him catching you only made you wetter, made you grind harder. Your hips moved in smooth, needy circles, chasing friction, chasing relief, until, “You think I wouldn’t come back for you?” You froze.

The sound of the front door slamming shut. Shoes kicked off. Footsteps. You tried to shift away from the counter, but his voice came closer, colder now. Dangerous. “You thought I’d leave you all hot and needy like this?” Sunghoon asked lowly, leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed as he watched you shamelessly grinding into the edge like it was his thigh. His lips curled slowly. “Or did you want me to see you like this? Want me to know how fucking desperate you get for me?”

You swallowed hard, embarrassed, but too far gone to deny it. Your lips parted, and your hips gave a tiny jerk, involuntarily pressing down again. He was in front of you in an instant. Hands on your waist. Mouth to your ear. Voice like velvet soaked in sin. “Such a needy little slut,” he whispered, dragging your hips to rut against the counter harder, using you like a doll, grinding you down until you were gasping. “Couldn’t wait for me to come home? Had to fuck the counter like it was my cock?”

Your knees buckled. He let you moan once, then shoved your panties aside. And his fingers found out just how wet the counter had made you.

ꜱᴜɴᴏᴏ

You should’ve just stayed in bed. Your thighs are sticky. Your mind is mush. And you can’t stop thinking about him. Sunoo, your boyfriend, your biggest weakness, your favorite obsession. He’s not even doing anything half the time and you still feel ruined. You’re always wanting him. Needing him. Like now.

He’s out on a walk. You’re alone. Barely clothed, grinding shamelessly on the edge of the kitchen counter, gasping into your palm like it’ll muffle the sound of your whimpers. His name keeps falling out. You don’t even mean to say it. But it slips out like prayer. Like sin. “Sunoo… please… oh god…”

Your hips roll again. God, the pressure feels too good. You’re leaking. Squirming. Almost crying. And the tension between your legs won’t let up, not when you’re thinking about the way he touches you, how soft he is, how filthy he can get. All you want is his fingers between your thighs, his voice in your ear, his teasing pout when you say something desperate like “Please, please fuck me, I need it.”

You arch against the counter. Biting your lip. Rocking back and forth. You imagine him catching you. And then, a creak. You freeze. Another step. Heels on hardwood. Your breath chokes out. Then you hear his voice, honey-warm and evil-leaning: “Oh… wow.” You whip around.

Sunoo’s leaning against the doorframe, hoodie falling off one shoulder, keys still in hand, and smiling. That slow, sickeningly sweet smile that makes your heart stop and your legs spread without a thought. His eyes flit down to your hips, where the counter corner is still nudged right against your clothed core. You scramble to stand straight. “I—Sunoo, I didn’t know you were back—” “Clearly.” He walks forward, eyes darkening with each step. “You couldn’t wait, huh?”

“No! I mean—I was just—!” “Grinding the kitchen counter?” He raises an eyebrow, amused. “That’s a new low, baby. Should I be jealous?” “Sunoo, please—” “Were you moaning my name while fucking the marble?” he purrs, circling behind you, letting his fingers ghost over your hips. “How naughty.” You bite your lip, trembling, arousal now soaked through your underwear.

Sunoo leans in, whispering into your ear. “I should’ve taken a picture.”

“Sunoo—” You whine, helpless. “You’re so needy for me it’s adorable.” He grins against your neck. “Can’t even wait a few hours. Had to hump the furniture like a desperate little thing?” You almost cry. “I—I was thinking about you.” “I know,” he coos. “I can see it.” His hand suddenly grabs your jaw, tilts it back so you’re forced to meet his gaze. “You should’ve called me, baby. I would’ve loved to watch you make a mess on the counter like that.”

“Please—” “What, now you want the real thing?” His lips ghost along your cheek. “Want me to fuck you right here? Against the cold stone, like the dirty little kitchen toy you are?”

Your thighs squeeze together, aching. You nod. But Sunoo doesn’t move. Instead, he sighs and steps back with a mock-disappointed pout. “I don’t know. You looked pretty satisfied without me. Maybe I should let you finish what you started.”

“No—!” You reach for him instinctively. “Please—Sunoo, I want you—” And that’s when he finally snaps.

And all the while, he whispers: “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ

You didn’t mean to let it happen like this. You’d been thinking about him all damn day. Every little thing reminded you of Jungwon, his lazy morning voice still in your ears, that smirk when he caught you staring during breakfast, the ghost of his hands on your waist, gripping you possessively the night before.

You’d tried distracting yourself. Showered. Cleaned. Played music. Even went to the store. But by the time you got home, the ache in your gut was unbearable. So now you were here. Back arched against the kitchen counter, panties shoved to the side, shamelessly grinding on the corner edge with quiet, desperate whines catching in your throat. Just the right angle. Just the right amount of pressure. You didn’t even care how filthy you looked, half-naked in one of Jungwon’s oversized T-shirts, sweat-damp thighs trembling as you tried to chase the high all on your own.

You muttered his name under your breath like a prayer. Over and over. “Wonnie… Wonnie…” “...What do we have here?” Your whole body jolted. Jungwon’s voice cut through the haze of lust like a blade. You hadn’t even heard him come in, but now he stood in the doorway, keys dangling from his fingers, head tilted, jaw slack in shock. Then his lips parted into a slow, sly grin. “Well, well… didn’t realize you missed me this bad.”

Your eyes went wide, shame rising up hot in your throat, but it was too late to stop. Your hips had a mind of their own now, still subtly rocking against the corner. “I—I couldn’t help it,” you breathed. “I just needed something, and you weren’t here, and—” He dropped the keys and stalked forward in three quick steps, pressing in close, his hand cupping your jaw, his eyes dark.

“You’re grinding on my kitchen counter, baby. Wearing my shirt. Moaning my name. And you think I’m gonna be mad?” He laughed under his breath, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You really don’t get how much I fucking love seeing you like this, do you?” You whimpered. “Please—just touch me already—” “Nuh-uh,” he tutted, shaking his head as he slipped two fingers under your chin and tilted your head up. “You wanted to do it all by yourself, right? So finish.”

“What—” “You heard me,” he said, voice low. “Grind on that counter ‘til you cum. Let me watch. Be good, and maybe I’ll reward you after.” The flush burned down your neck, all the way to your chest. Your thighs shook, your lip trembled, but something about his voice, calm and commanding, made you nod. So you did it.

ɴɪᴋɪ

You didn’t mean for it to happen again. But desire has a way of spilling over when you’re not looking. The house was quiet. Ni-ki had gone to his studio a while ago, said he’d be back soon, just had to record a few notes, clear his head. And you had tried to distract yourself,  really. Cleaned the bedroom. Sorted laundry. Lit candles. Took a shower. But nothing worked. Not when all you could think about was him.

The heat had been building all day. You could barely focus on your phone without replaying flashes of last night, how he’d dragged you to the edge of the bed by your ankles, how his voice dropped when he growled “I wanna see it, baby. Wanna see you fall apart. All of it.” You didn’t even know squirting was something your body could do until Ni-ki made it his mission.

And now you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Your thighs pressed together uselessly as you passed the kitchen, trying to walk it off, breathe through it. But when you saw the polished marble edge of the counter, right where he bent you over the first time he made you cum so hard you cried, your breath stuttered. You didn’t even hesitate.

One slow grind. Just one. Just to take the edge off. But the second you aligned yourself and rubbed your bare cunt against the edge, you gasped. It was electric. Sharp, hot friction that made your knees wobble. Still in your oversized t-shirt and nothing underneath, you let your arms collapse onto the surface, letting the hem ride up as you found the rhythm. Your clit caught right on the edge of the counter, and the contact made your hips jerk forward on instinct, faster, needier.

You imagined his voice behind you. That low, dangerous purr when he caught you doing something filthy. The way he’d breathe down your neck, lips at your ear: “You’re so desperate for me you can’t even wait?”

Your eyes fluttered shut. You were so close. So close. And then, the air shifted.

You heard it before you saw it. The quiet click of the door. The soft thud of a bag being set down. And then his voice, ragged, stunned, dark with desire: “...You really couldn’t wait, huh?”

Your heart dropped straight to your core. You tried to move, but your body didn’t listen.

Ni-ki was already behind you. You could feel his eyes burning through the thin fabric of your shirt. There was a sharp exhale, and then his palm was gripping your ass, tugging you back against him. “Say it,” he growled. “Say you were touching yourself for me.”

You whimpered, trembling against the counter. “I-I was. I was thinking about you. I couldn’t stop—” “You were trying to squirt again, weren’t you?” he bit out, voice thick with something between obsession and possession. “You thought if you rubbed that pretty pussy on the counter long enough, I’d come home and fuck it out of you?” You nodded desperately, tears building in your lashes from how achingly full your body felt.

“Oh, baby…” His hand ghosted down your inner thigh, tracing your slick all the way up before slipping two fingers inside, effortlessly.

You choked.

“Already so wet.” He twisted them slowly, making you convulse. “You were gonna cum without me?”  His voice cracked. “I don’t think so.”

masterlist

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[swiftjay23]

Hiiiiii!!

I’m the one who requested the pregnant!readerxjake and my god…

That was perfect!

Thank you so, so much!

Hii love! <3 I'm actually SO incredibly glad that you requested, it was absolutely excellent and it means everything to me, thank YOU so so much honey! <3

[swiftjay23]

Hello!

I just found your blog and I’m currently so in love it hurts! Your writing makes me feel things and it delicious.

I just read and then reread and then read it again, your Sunghoon and pregnant reader. It rewired something for me.

Could I request a similar thing but with Jake? 🫦

I can’t wait to read through more of your works!

Hi love!!! Thank you so much for requesting! It means a ton to me that you took the time to read my work! I'd be more than happy to write this for you! Take care and stay safe!

Made to Take Me

Jake x Pregnant!Reader, smut, oral (f. receiving), teasing, praise, breeding kink, cockwarming, overstimulation, possessiveness, soft dom!Jake, clingy!Jake, dirty talk, nipple play, intense emotional intimacy, Jake worships you like a religion.

The room smells like vanilla lotion and sex. Sweet, thick, and heavy with heat, just like you.

Jake’s breath stutters as he kneels between your spread legs, pupils blown wide, lips parted like he’s starving. There’s sweat clinging to his curls and flushed skin stretched tight over his cheekbones, but all he can see is you. You, glowing and soft and so fucking full.

Your shirt is hiked up over your tits, your belly bare, round and taut and aching. His. All of it, yours, his, theirs. Every inch of you speaks to some ancient part of him, some feral thing in his chest that growls you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.

His thumbs brush slowly along your thighs as he stares, almost hypnotized.

“Fuck,” he breathes, reverent. “Look at you, baby. You’re killing me.”

You shift under his gaze, and his hands twitch like he wants to hold you down, keep you spread, keep you still, keep you. But he’s gentle. Always gentle.

He leans in, presses his lips to the stretch of skin above your belly button, and murmurs there: “My pretty girl. Full of me. Carrying my baby and still dripping for me like this.”

He noses along your bump like he’s inhaling you, hands sliding slowly up your sides, up to your tits, which are swollen and flushed and heavy. He groans under his breath as he cups them, thumbs teasing over your sensitive nipples.

“You feel that?” he murmurs. “How hard you are already? You want me, don’t you? Fuck, you need me so bad.”

He leans down, sucks one nipple into his mouth with a low moan like it soothes him, like he needs the taste just to breathe. And you’re gasping, arching into him, hips twitching.

Jake chuckles, dark and low.

“Oh, baby,” he coos, “I haven’t even started.”

His hands drift back down to your hips, holding them open, spreading you wide. He kisses your belly again, and then further, lower, lower, until his breath fans against your pussy.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he groans. “You’re soaked. Look at you.”

He doesn’t touch you yet. Of course he doesn’t. He just stares like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“You’re always wet for me like this? Hm?” He drags a single finger down your slit, so slow it burns. “Even with this belly, my baby in you, you’re still begging for it.”

You whimper, but Jake just grins. “Say it,” he whispers. “Tell me how bad you want me to taste you.”

You choke on a moan, and Jake's cock twitches, painfully hard against the mattress.

“Jake, please,” you breathe. And fuck, he melts.

“Oh my god,” he whines, literally whines, like you just pulled the leash he lives for. “Say that again.” “Please. Please, I need your mouth—”

He dives in. No more teasing. No more waiting.

Jake licks a thick, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit and moans like you just gave him heaven. Like you opened the gates and let him in.

“Holy fuck,” he gasps. “I missed this taste. I think about it all the time.”

He eats you with long, messy licks, mouth wide and tongue deep, hands stroking over your hips like you’ll vanish if he doesn’t hold you down. Every flick of his tongue has your hips jumping, thighs shaking, the pressure of your swollen belly only making every sensation more.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive like this,” he pants against you. “All those hormones making you so needy for me, huh?”

You nod, barely breathing, moaning his name over and over. Jake moans back like he’s answering a prayer.

“You hear that, baby?” he grits out. “The way you sound when I suck your clit like this?”

He does it, sucks hard, then flicks his tongue in tight little circles, and your back arches right off the bed.

“Oh my god, Jake—!”

“That’s it,” he groans, grinding his hips into the mattress like a man possessed. “That’s my girl. So fucking perfect for me.” He dips two fingers inside you, groaning when you clench tight around him.

“Still so tight,” he whispers, awed. “Even after taking my cock every night like a good girl. Even with this perfect belly, this perfect body, still fucks me like she’s made for it.”

He kisses the inside of your thigh, smiling against your skin. “Made to take me. That’s what you are. That’s all you are.”

Your fingers claw at the sheets as his tongue finds your clit again, faster this time, desperate. Your legs shake. Your hips jerk. “Gonna cum?” he pants, sounding needy. “Gonna let me taste it all, baby? Please, please, give it to me.”

You break with a cry. Your whole body locks up as you come hard, and Jake moans like he’s the one cumming, grinding into the bed with a choked groan as you soak his mouth.

But he doesn’t stop. “No,” he growls. “Not done. Not done ‘til you’re crying.”

He keeps licking you, gentler now, coaxing a second orgasm out of you like he’s got all night. He does. He wants to.

When you’re finally gasping, legs twitching from overstimulation, he kisses your belly one last time and climbs up your body.

You feel his cock, flushed and heavy, brush between your thighs, and Jake whines.

“Can I?” he pants. “Please, baby, can I put it in? I’ll be good, I swear. I just, fuck, I need to feel you around me.”

You nod, wrecked, and Jake moans like he’s grateful.

He pushes in slow, sinking into you inch by inch, and his mouth falls open.

“Ohhh, fuck yes,” he sobs. “Yes. Oh my god. Warm. Tight. Fuck, mine.”

He fucks you deep, holding your belly with one hand and your face with the other. His forehead presses to yours.

“You feel that?” he whispers, rocking into you. “That’s my baby inside you. That’s me. You’re full of me.”

You moan his name, and Jake breaks. “I love you,” he gasps. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m never letting you go.”

And when you cum again, clenching around him, tears in your eyes, Jake follows with a loud, broken cry, spilling inside you with a shudder and a moan of your name like a vow.

He doesn’t pull out. Doesn’t move. Just wraps his arms around you, hand stroking your belly, breath shaking.

“You’re everything,” he whispers. “And you’re mine.”

masterlist

⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands,⟡ @yuriloveshee,  ⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @add-this-to-that,  ⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie,  ⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk  ⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful,  ⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw,  ⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy,  ⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001  ⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq,

✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧

⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar,  ⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3,  ⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee,  ⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry,  ⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard,  ⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation,  ⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito,  ⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj,  ⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi,  ⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo,  ⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz,  ⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies

[swiftjay23]

Guysss, @roze-latte-zz created this absolutely awesome new community for writers like us who just have a little too much untamed, wild, and absolutely refreshing energy in them. Go check it out!! https://www.tumblr.com/communities/fictionalfireplace

[swiftjay23]

hi! you can delete this if it bothers you <3 i’m admin yu and i just started a kpop confessions blog where people can send in their thoughts/opinions (and even polls to see if others agree). it’s super new so i’d be really grateful if you could help spread the word! looking forward to building a fun little community here. thank you!!

hi admin yu!! 💌

no need to delete at all, this is such a cute idea omg. i love spaces where people can share their thoughts (especially the unhinged kpop ones lmao), so i’m wishing you all the best with this blog! i’ll definitely help spread the word and keep an eye out for confessions 👀💭 here’s to a fun, messy, and welcoming little community 💗💬

[swiftjay23]

bro your writing is so delicious wtf 💔😔

could you possibly do smth along the lines of enhypen trying to get reader to squirt for the first time or enhypens reaction to reader squirting for the first time out of the blue

dont feel like u have to!!

I- why are y'all divas so talented🛐🫂

Cus baby, you want it? You got it. Let this peasant serve you respectfully🛐

Consider it DONE. Thank you for being hot and right.

MDNI (18+)

ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ

Heeseung’s obsessed. It starts slow, just curiosity, a passing comment you made once about never having squirted before. You didn’t think much of it. But he did. The idea rooted deep in his mind, festered into something greedy. Now, weeks later, he’s on a mission. And it’s not romantic or sweet, it’s feral. Tonight, he’s not stopping until you’re writhing underneath him, dripping wet, slick running down his wrist like you’ve been split open.

You’re already trembling, thighs shaking from the second orgasm he pulled out of you. His lips are red from mouthing at your cunt, his jaw slick with your arousal. But he’s insatiable. “I know it’s in there,” he mutters, fingers curling inside you like he’s searching for treasure. “Just need to find that spot again, yeah? Pretty girl’s gonna give it to me.”

“Hee, fuck, I can’t—” “Yes, you can.” He grins, lips brushing your inner thigh, his voice dangerously low. “You want to, don’t you? Want to be my filthy little mess?”

You choke on a moan, hips jerking up as his fingers slide deeper, relentless. You’ve never felt this full from just his hand. And he’s calculated about it, pressing his palm down against your pelvis as he strokes inside with purpose, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Because he does. He’s memorized every twitch of your body. Every gasp. Every clench. “C’mon, baby,” he murmurs. “You’re so wet, look at that. Bet you’re close. Wanna see it so bad, wanna see you squirt all over my fucking hand.”

Your back arches. Your head falls back against the pillow. There’s pressure building, foreign, overwhelming, so much that you instinctively try to push him away. “Don’t,” he growls, grabbing your wrists with his free hand. “Don’t run. Stay still. Let go.” It’s overwhelming, it’s white, hot, searing pressure that you can’t control and it’s threatening to spill.

You whimper, nails digging into his forearm, and he takes that as a good sign, pressing down harder, stroking deeper, twisting his fingers just right until, “FUCK—!”

It happens like lightning. Your body seizes, toes curling, a strangled cry tearing from your throat as a gush of wetness spills from your core. It’s involuntary, unstoppable, an explosion of release that leaves you trembling, wide-eyed, and ruined. And Heeseung? He moans. Loudly.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, watching it happen like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “You squirted. Baby—fuck—you really did it.” He doesn’t stop. He can’t. His fingers keep moving, slower now but still deliberate, dragging more out of you even as your thighs twitch and your hips try to twist away.

“Too much—Hee—please—” “No,” he hisses, eyes blown black with desire. “Not done. Gotta see that again. You’re gonna do it again for me, yeah?”

You shake your head desperately, but he kisses you, swallowing your cries, his hand moving again, pressing that same spot, over and over, until your body spasms.

You cum again. Harder.

Another spray coats his fingers, slick running down his wrist, soaking the sheets. You scream, the intensity crashing over you like a tidal wave, and Heeseung is right there through all of it, murmuring praise against your neck.

“That’s my girl. So fucking perfect.” When you finally go limp, shuddering, panting, eyes glazed, he pulls back to admire the absolute wreck he’s made of you. Wet, ruined, trembling. His hand glistens.

He looks satisfied.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see that,” he whispers, dragging his soaked fingers up to his mouth. He licks them clean, eyes locked on yours as he moans low in his throat. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re still catching your breath when he kisses you, slow and deep and filthy.

But then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “Think I’m done?” He shifts lower, between your legs again, and you panic. “Heeseung—” He smirks. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna use my mouth this time.”

ᴊᴀʏ

It’s not even supposed to go that far tonight. You’re just meant to hang out, maybe kiss a little, tease each other like always. Jay’s already half-dressed though, white t-shirt riding up as he presses you against the mattress, his sweats dangerously low on his hips. He has that look in his eyes. The one that means he’s about to take his time.

And when Jay takes his time… you don’t walk the next morning. "You're already so wet," he murmurs, dragging two fingers slowly through your folds. He doesn't even sound smug, he sounds entranced, like he’s watching something precious unfold right under him.

You try to push your thighs together, but he’s stronger, holds your leg open with his elbow while he sinks down between them, licking a long, slow stripe over your slit. It’s gentle at first. Almost sweet. But Jay’s tongue isn’t innocent. It’s not shy or hesitant. It’s greedy, confident, ravenous.

“J-Jay—fuck—” your fingers tangle in his hair as he flattens his tongue against your clit and sucks, two fingers already pushing inside. He groans when he feels you tighten around them, knuckles deep now, curling just right there.

He feels your body jolt. Your thighs tremble violently around his head. Jay doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. He leans in. "You’re clenching so much, baby,” he rasps, his voice muffled by your dripping cunt. “Right there, huh? Right—there—" You're shaking so hard it’s pathetic. Your body can’t decide whether to run away or grind down harder. He’s relentless, rubbing deep inside while flicking your clit with his tongue, again and again, until your hips rise off the bed completely, and then you snap.

A harsh, helpless cry tears from your throat as a sudden gush of wetness soaks his hand, his face, the sheets, everything. You’ve never done that before. Your legs are quivering. You’re gasping. Babbling apologies as you try to close your thighs, but Jay is just staring. His soaked hand stays buried inside you, but his mouth falls open. Stunned. “I—holy shit,” he breathes. His lips are glistening. “You squirted.” “Wait—wait, I’m so sorry—” you whimper, trying to move away in mortified panic, but Jay’s eyes darken. “Don’t apologize.” He grabs your waist and shoves you flat against the bed again. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

He blinks, eyes wild. “I didn’t even know you could do that,” he says, dazed. “How long were you hiding that from me, huh?” “I-I didn’t know I could,” you admit, face hot. Your thighs are trembling, your chest heaving, but Jay isn’t done. “God…” he slides his soaked fingers back inside, curling again.

“Jay—” “No. Let me see it again.” He’s already lowering his head, tongue out. “Please.” “Jay, I can’t—” “Yes you can,” he growls, biting into your thigh hard enough to leave a mark. “You think I’m not gonna chase that again? Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you just did to me.”

He sounds wrecked. Possessed. Like you broke something loose inside him. His mouth latches back onto your clit with zero mercy, licking and sucking with ruthless precision while his fingers pump into your pussy harder, faster, more deliberate. You’re already oversensitive, wailing, but he loves it. Loves seeing you fall apart. Loves seeing the slick build up around his knuckles, sliding down his wrist. “That’s it,” he pants, watching you unravel. “That’s the face you made when you squirted. Show me again.”

“J-Jay, I’m gonna—!” “Do it.” You scream when it happens again. Violent. Shocking. More intense than anything you’ve felt before. You don’t even feel like you’re in your body anymore, you’re floating, convulsing, crying as wetness sprays down your thighs and onto the mattress, soaking everything in sight.

You whimper, trying to close your legs, but he doesn’t let you. Jay groans deep in his chest, dragging your body down the sheets, manhandling you as if you weigh nothing. He grins. Eyes glowing. “I’m gonna ruin you with this,” he murmurs, kissing your thigh reverently before licking you clean. “You know that, right?” His tongue drags over your puffy, overstimulated pussy with excruciating slowness. “Now that I know you can do that? I’m never stopping.”

And he means it. Every time he touches you after this, every time he drops to his knees or spreads you open, he’s chasing that high again.

He’s addicted. And you? You’re fucked.

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ 

It starts with a challenge.

“I bet I can make you squirt,” Jake grins, head tilted, tongue running along his bottom lip. His hand is already tugging his shirt over his head, hair sticking to his forehead from the heat of your last round. He’s cocky, glistening, and fucking dangerous with that glint in his eye, the one he gets when he’s about to ruin you.

You’re breathless beneath him, cheeks flushed, thighs still twitching from your last orgasm. “You’re crazy.” Jake leans in, kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “You always say that. Then I prove you wrong.”

And that’s how you end up with your legs thrown over his shoulders, wrists pinned against the sheets, and his mouth buried between your thighs like a man starved. Jake eats pussy like it’s his goddamn job. Like he’s never tasted anything sweeter.

Like he could live and die with his face between your legs and still be satisfied. “Fuck, baby, you’re already so wet,” he mumbles, lips brushing your folds as his fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place. He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, then flattens his tongue and sucks at your clit until your back arches.

You moan helplessly, fingers twisting into the sheets, body already trembling. “Jake—oh my god—” “I got you,” he murmurs. “Just let go.”

But he doesn’t let up.

He licks and sucks and flicks with relentless precision, two fingers curling up inside you at just the right angle, over and over, until you’re choking on moans. You try to pull away, hips jerking, but he’s stronger, and he wants this. Wants you.

He presses harder. “You’re close,” he says, eyes dark and shining. “I can feel it.” You’re shaking under him, a mess of sweat and moans, barely able to breathe.

“Jake—fuck—I don’t think I can—” “Yes, you can,” he groans, voice thick with want. “Come on, baby. Give it to me. I want it. I want you to let go, all over my face.”

Your body tenses. Then snaps.

It hits you like a wave, hot, violent, blinding. Your thighs clamp around his head, and you cry out, hips bucking uncontrollably. And then, you feel it. The rush. The wet heat. A burst of sensation that has you screaming, twitching, trembling under his hold.

You’ve never come like this before. And Jake? He groans. “Holy fuck,” he pants, pulling back to watch. “You squirted, baby. All over me. Look at this—fuck, you’re so sexy—” His face is dripping. His abs, soaked. The sheets beneath you, ruined. And he looks at you like you’re art. Like he’s just witnessed the most divine fucking thing in existence.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment creeping in. But he crawls up and kisses you hard, tongue tangling with yours, tasting you, groaning low in his throat. “You have no idea how hot that was. I could die happy right now.”

“You’re insane,” you whisper against his mouth. Jake grins, eyes gleaming. “And you’re soaking for me. So guess what, baby?” He leans in close, lips brushing your ear. “We’re not done yet. Not until I make you do it again.”

ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ

Your thighs are trembling, wrists bound in silk against the headboard, the delicate fabric biting into your skin just enough to leave the faintest impression. You’re laid bare for him, neck arched, lashes clumped with tears, stomach flexing with every shaky breath.

Sunghoon sits between your legs like he owns you. He always has.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, tilting his head. The glint in his eyes is sharper than the knife he holds, and somehow just as dangerous. “Already dripping, and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

His voice is soft but cutting. Controlled. Predatory.

You jolt when he drags the flat edge of the blade along your thigh, cold and unforgiving, yet handled with such precision you can’t help but gasp. Your hips jerk upward in search of friction, but he doesn’t indulge you. Not yet.

“I said hold still.”

He doesn’t raise his voice. He never needs to. You still immediately. Breath caught. Pulse racing. Brain empty except for Sunghoon Sunghoon Sunghoon.

He hums, satisfied. The knife traces a line up, past your navel, grazing the underside of your breast. You don’t even realize you’re whimpering until he chuckles.

“This?” he says, finally setting the knife down beside you. “This is why you don’t let other men touch you. They wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

And then he leans in and spits on your cunt. You gasp, your entire body jolting, but before you can process the mess of saliva now mixing with your arousal, his mouth is on you. One long, slow lick that has your head flying back into the pillows.

“Oh my God—” He doesn’t give you time to recover. His tongue is relentless, broad strokes and fast circles, his nose bumping your clit, his lips pulling more obscene noises out of you than you thought yourself capable of.

His hands hold your thighs apart, thumbs digging bruises into your hips as you writhe beneath him. The silk binding your wrists tightens with every tug, but it’s not enough, not when your body is burning and his tongue keeps flicking that one spot over and over again.

“Sunghoon—fuck—fuck, I can’t—” “Yes, you can,” he says against your soaked pussy, voice muffled, lips shiny. “I want to see it.”

You blink through the tears. “See…?” He grins. Dark. Filthy. So, so smug. “Wanna see you squirt.”

Your whole body seizes at the words. “I know it’s in you. Pretty little thing like you?” He drags two fingers up your slit, teasing your entrance. “You’ve just never had someone pull it out before.”

He sinks the fingers in. You scream.

The angle is perfect. Crooked just right. Curling up to press against that spot inside you again and again and again.

“Shh,” he murmurs, mouth brushing your inner thigh. “Be good. You want me to stop?”

You shake your head frantically, unable to speak. His pace quickens. Wet, lewd squelching fills the room as he fucks you open with his fingers, each stroke harder than the last. You’re burning, overheating, tension coiling tight in your abdomen like a rubber band stretched too far.

And then he slaps your clit.

You convulse. It hits like a bullet. Your vision whites out. A sob bursts from your chest as your back arches, thighs clamping tight around his shoulders, and you squirt, hot, wet release splashing over his fingers, down his wrist, soaking the sheets beneath you.

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” Sunghoon growls, eyes wild with hunger, watching every drop drip out of you. “Knew you could do it. That’s my good little slut.”

Your body is trembling. Wrung out. You can barely breathe. But he doesn’t stop.

His fingers keep pumping. His tongue flicks your clit with renewed fervor, and you’re screaming, legs kicking, wrists jerking against the silk restraints as another orgasm crashes into you seconds later, violent and wet and messy and too much.

“Sunghoon, Sunghoon please—!”

He finally pulls back, lips wet, cheeks flushed, eyes blown black. “Don’t you ever hide that from me again.” Then he licks his fingers clean.

ꜱᴜɴᴏᴏ

You can barely breathe.

Fingers gripping the sheets, jaw slack, hips quivering under his iron grip, your whole body feels like it’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous. Something explosive. And Sunoo knows it. Knows exactly what he’s doing, exactly how to get you there, how to keep you helpless and begging and soaked.

He’s been edging you for ages. First with his mouth, slow licks, deep suckling, his tongue fucking into you like he’s starved, then his fingers, skilled and merciless, curling just right.

“Fuck—Sun- nghh!” you cry out, breath stuttering, thighs clenching around his wrist. His eyes flash up from between your legs, lips shiny with spit and arousal. “You're close again, huh?”

You nod frantically. He hums, slow and low, fingers never stopping. “No, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb along your clit with practiced precision. “I want more than that.”

“W-what—?” “I want you to cum so hard you soak the sheets.” His voice darkens. “You can do that for me, right? You’re gonna squirt for me, baby.” Your stomach clenches. “I don’t—I’ve never—”

His smirk is wicked, feral. “Exactly. I want to be the first. The only one who’s ever done that to you.” The confession alone makes your toes curl. He leans down again, mouthing at your clit with obscene care while his fingers thrust deeper, harder, searching for that exact spot that makes your back arch and your moans crack in your throat.

“Right there,” he growls. “That’s it, isn’t it?” Your answer is a broken gasp. Your hips jerk, your legs shake, and everything starts to go tight. Tighter than it ever has before. It feels overwhelming. Intense. Too much.

“Sunoo—fuck—please, I can’t—” “Yes, you can.” His voice is breathless now, wild with anticipation. “Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

You cry out as the pressure explodes. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, and for the first time ever, your body gives in completely. There’s a hot, liquid rush, and Sunoo groans, actually groans, when he feels it, when he sees it, watching you gush all over his fingers, soaking his hand and the bed beneath you. “Holy fuck, baby—look at you,” he moans, slowing his fingers only slightly. “You squirted for me. Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Your whole body is trembling. You’re not even sure if you're breathing anymore. But Sunoo doesn’t stop. He pulls his fingers out, glistening and soaked, and brings them to his mouth. His tongue darts out and licks them clean, moaning like he’s just tasted heaven.

“You taste so good when you cum like that,” he murmurs, climbing up your body to kiss you, slow and filthy. “Bet you didn’t even know you could do that, huh?” You shake your head, dazed.

He grins, wicked. “I did.” And before you can recover, he’s dragging your leg over his shoulder and pressing back in with two fingers again, right where you’re still so sensitive it hurts.

You cry out. He leans in, eyes gleaming. “We’re not done, sweetheart. I’m going to make you do it again.”

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ

It starts with the look on his face.

That soft smirk tugging at his lips. The gleam in his eyes that says he knows something you don’t. You’re panting, trembling under him, body already worn out from two orgasms, but he’s still fully clothed, lazily stroking two fingers up your soaked folds like he’s got all night.

And he does.

“You're shaking,” he hums, drawing slow circles over your clit until your hips twitch. “That cute little pussy of yours just can’t take it, huh?”

You whimper, too sensitive to speak, but his fingers dip back inside anyway, deep, curling up with precision that feels like a lightning strike.

“I haven’t even gotten inside you yet,” he teases. “You gonna fall apart just from this?” He presses hard against that spot inside you, the one that makes you choke on your moan, and your entire body jerks in response.

“W-Wonnie—ah—fuck—” His pace doesn’t change. Steady. Controlled. The pads of his fingers slick as they pump into you, slow and deep, while his thumb massages your clit with maddening pressure. And then he leans in, whispering against your jaw:

“You know what I wanna see, baby?” You’re too close to form words.

“I want you to squirt for me.” You freeze. “W-what—?” He chuckles lowly. “I know it’s in you. You just need someone to pull it out, don’t you? Let me show you what that pretty body can do.”

You try to protest, but he knows exactly how close you are, how wound up, how high-strung—because he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let you run from it. His mouth drops to your chest, licking and sucking at your nipples, just as his fingers start moving faster, angling deeper, and your mind starts blanking.

It hits you fast.

Your thighs lock up. Back arches. Your moan splinters into something ugly as the pleasure coils tight and snaps, and then,  “Oh, fuck—”

You squirt. You feel it, hot, uncontrollable, soaking his hand and dripping onto the sheets beneath you, and your entire body convulses as the orgasm rips through you harder than anything you’ve ever felt. It’s messy. Loud. Humiliating.

You cover your face, mortified. “Oh my God—Wonnie, I’m—”

But he laughs. Laughs, moans, and pulls your hands away from your face just to look into your eyes while your cunt still pulses around nothing. “Did you just squirt?” You try to look away. He doesn’t let you.

“Baby,” he breathes, still smiling, still stunned. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” You’re still panting. Still dazed. And suddenly overwhelmed. He notices, his teasing drops for a moment, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Look at me. Don’t go shy now. That was perfect, you hear me?” “But I—made a mess—” “I want you to make a mess,” he growls, voice low again, fingers slipping between your thighs to collect more of your wetness. “I want to ruin these sheets. I want to fuck you so good you can’t stop leaking. You think I don’t crave that?”

You’re quiet. He leans closer. “Next time?” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m going to make you squirt on my cock.”

ɴɪᴋɪ

You’ve been trembling for minutes now, thighs twitching as your back arches off the mattress, yet he still hasn’t stopped.

Ni-ki’s fingers are buried inside you, thick and merciless, curling in perfect rhythm against that devastating spot deep inside. His palm is slick with arousal, wrist flexing, knuckles wet with how much you've already soaked him. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop any of it.

And he knows. “Oh my god—Riki, I-I can’t—please—” “Yes, you can.” His voice is steady, low, wrecked with focus. “I told you I’d make it happen tonight, didn’t I? Gonna get you to cum so hard you don’t even know your name.”

His mouth is hot and wet on your neck, teeth grazing as he exhales hard against your skin. His free hand wraps around your thigh and pushes it higher, opening you up more even as you squirm under his grip. You’ve already cum twice, legs shaking uncontrollably, but this is different. You can feel it. Too intense. Too much.

“I-I think I’m gonna—fuck—” “Oh, you’re close?” he pants, almost sarcastic. “No shit. Look at the mess you’re making, baby.”

He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t even pretend to let up.

The squelch of his fingers dragging in and out of you fills the room, obscene and constant, punctuated by the wet slap of his palm against your clit each time his knuckles brush past. You’re gasping now, eyes wide and glassy. It’s too much and not enough. You’re dripping down your thighs, soaking the sheets, your stomach fluttering like you’re going to break apart.

And then it happens.

Your body snaps like a rubber band, legs spasming violently as a gush of liquid pours out of you, hot, sudden, unstoppable. It pulses from you like a wave crashing, like everything in you burst at once.

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby.” Ni-ki moans darkly, his fingers still moving. “You squirted for me, fuck, I knew you would. Look at you.” You're breathless, dizzy, your entire body flushed and twitching, mouth open as you try to speak, to think, something. But he’s not done.

He grins, pure menace glowing in his eyes. “Think I’m gonna stop now?” he whispers, dragging his soaked fingers up your overstimulated pussy before pushing right back in.

Your scream is hoarse, part sob, part cry of disbelief.

“No—Riki—please, I can’t—!” “Yes, you can,” he snarls, licking your slick off his lips as his hips grind against the mattress. “You’re so fucking pretty when you fall apart. You think I’m done just ‘cause you squirted once? Baby, I’ve barely started.”

He leans down again, licking a slow stripe up the inside of your thigh, eyes locked on your ruined cunt. “You’re gonna do it again. And again. And again. Until this whole fucking bed is drenched.”

He slides two fingers in again, then three, and you cry out, toes curling, entire body jerking as he shoves in deep and presses down on your lower stomach with his other hand.

“I want it messy,” he growls. “I want it dripping down your legs. I want you to cry from how good it feels.” You do. The next wave hits harder.

You scream, thighs slamming shut on his hand, but he forces them apart again, wide and shaking, his voice feral.

“Don’t run from it. Take it. You’re mine. This pussy’s mine.” Everything is wet. The sheets, the pillows, his arm, your stomach, it’s a fucking disaster and he loves it. He craves it. His lips are on your neck again, biting down as your body gives out, and still, he keeps going.

You squirt again. And again. He doesn’t let up until you’re sobbing, your body twitching so violently he has to hold you down, his voice low and teasing as he finally, finally lets you breathe. “You good?” he murmurs, brushing a soaked lock of hair from your eyes. “You okay, angel?” You nod weakly, chest heaving. He kisses your temple.

“Good. Next time, I want it in my mouth.”

ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ

Heeseung’s obsessed. It starts slow, just curiosity, a passing comment you made once about never having squirted before. You didn’t think much of it. But he did. The idea rooted deep in his mind, festered into something greedy. Now, weeks later, he’s on a mission. And it’s not romantic or sweet, it’s feral. Tonight, he’s not stopping until you’re writhing underneath him, dripping wet, slick running down his wrist like you’ve been split open.

You’re already trembling, thighs shaking from the second orgasm he pulled out of you. His lips are red from mouthing at your cunt, his jaw slick with your arousal. But he’s insatiable. “I know it’s in there,” he mutters, fingers curling inside you like he’s searching for treasure. “Just need to find that spot again, yeah? Pretty girl’s gonna give it to me.”

“Hee, fuck, I can’t—” “Yes, you can.” He grins, lips brushing your inner thigh, his voice dangerously low. “You want to, don’t you? Want to be my filthy little mess?”

You choke on a moan, hips jerking up as his fingers slide deeper, relentless. You’ve never felt this full from just his hand. And he’s calculated about it, pressing his palm down against your pelvis as he strokes inside with purpose, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Because he does. He’s memorized every twitch of your body. Every gasp. Every clench. “C’mon, baby,” he murmurs. “You’re so wet, look at that. Bet you’re close. Wanna see it so bad, wanna see you squirt all over my fucking hand.”

Your back arches. Your head falls back against the pillow. There’s pressure building, foreign, overwhelming, so much that you instinctively try to push him away. “Don’t,” he growls, grabbing your wrists with his free hand. “Don’t run. Stay still. Let go.” It’s overwhelming, it’s white, hot, searing pressure that you can’t control and it’s threatening to spill.

You whimper, nails digging into his forearm, and he takes that as a good sign, pressing down harder, stroking deeper, twisting his fingers just right until, “FUCK—!”

It happens like lightning. Your body seizes, toes curling, a strangled cry tearing from your throat as a gush of wetness spills from your core. It’s involuntary, unstoppable, an explosion of release that leaves you trembling, wide-eyed, and ruined. And Heeseung? He moans. Loudly.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, watching it happen like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “You squirted. Baby—fuck—you really did it.” He doesn’t stop. He can’t. His fingers keep moving, slower now but still deliberate, dragging more out of you even as your thighs twitch and your hips try to twist away.

“Too much—Hee—please—” “No,” he hisses, eyes blown black with desire. “Not done. Gotta see that again. You’re gonna do it again for me, yeah?”

You shake your head desperately, but he kisses you, swallowing your cries, his hand moving again, pressing that same spot, over and over, until your body spasms.

You cum again. Harder.

Another spray coats his fingers, slick running down his wrist, soaking the sheets. You scream, the intensity crashing over you like a tidal wave, and Heeseung is right there through all of it, murmuring praise against your neck.

“That’s my girl. So fucking perfect.” When you finally go limp, shuddering, panting, eyes glazed, he pulls back to admire the absolute wreck he’s made of you. Wet, ruined, trembling. His hand glistens.

He looks satisfied.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see that,” he whispers, dragging his soaked fingers up to his mouth. He licks them clean, eyes locked on yours as he moans low in his throat. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re still catching your breath when he kisses you, slow and deep and filthy.

But then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “Think I’m done?” He shifts lower, between your legs again, and you panic. “Heeseung—” He smirks. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna use my mouth this time.”

ᴊᴀʏ

It’s not even supposed to go that far tonight. You’re just meant to hang out, maybe kiss a little, tease each other like always. Jay’s already half-dressed though, white t-shirt riding up as he presses you against the mattress, his sweats dangerously low on his hips. He has that look in his eyes. The one that means he’s about to take his time.

And when Jay takes his time… you don’t walk the next morning. "You're already so wet," he murmurs, dragging two fingers slowly through your folds. He doesn't even sound smug, he sounds entranced, like he’s watching something precious unfold right under him.

You try to push your thighs together, but he’s stronger, holds your leg open with his elbow while he sinks down between them, licking a long, slow stripe over your slit. It’s gentle at first. Almost sweet. But Jay’s tongue isn’t innocent. It’s not shy or hesitant. It’s greedy, confident, ravenous.

“J-Jay—fuck—” your fingers tangle in his hair as he flattens his tongue against your clit and sucks, two fingers already pushing inside. He groans when he feels you tighten around them, knuckles deep now, curling just right there.

He feels your body jolt. Your thighs tremble violently around his head. Jay doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. He leans in. "You’re clenching so much, baby,” he rasps, his voice muffled by your dripping cunt. “Right there, huh? Right—there—" You're shaking so hard it’s pathetic. Your body can’t decide whether to run away or grind down harder. He’s relentless, rubbing deep inside while flicking your clit with his tongue, again and again, until your hips rise off the bed completely, and then you snap.

A harsh, helpless cry tears from your throat as a sudden gush of wetness soaks his hand, his face, the sheets, everything. You’ve never done that before. Your legs are quivering. You’re gasping. Babbling apologies as you try to close your thighs, but Jay is just staring. His soaked hand stays buried inside you, but his mouth falls open. Stunned. “I—holy shit,” he breathes. His lips are glistening. “You squirted.” “Wait—wait, I’m so sorry—” you whimper, trying to move away in mortified panic, but Jay’s eyes darken. “Don’t apologize.” He grabs your waist and shoves you flat against the bed again. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

He blinks, eyes wild. “I didn’t even know you could do that,” he says, dazed. “How long were you hiding that from me, huh?” “I-I didn’t know I could,” you admit, face hot. Your thighs are trembling, your chest heaving, but Jay isn’t done. “God…” he slides his soaked fingers back inside, curling again.

“Jay—” “No. Let me see it again.” He’s already lowering his head, tongue out. “Please.” “Jay, I can’t—” “Yes you can,” he growls, biting into your thigh hard enough to leave a mark. “You think I’m not gonna chase that again? Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you just did to me.”

He sounds wrecked. Possessed. Like you broke something loose inside him. His mouth latches back onto your clit with zero mercy, licking and sucking with ruthless precision while his fingers pump into your pussy harder, faster, more deliberate. You’re already oversensitive, wailing, but he loves it. Loves seeing you fall apart. Loves seeing the slick build up around his knuckles, sliding down his wrist. “That’s it,” he pants, watching you unravel. “That’s the face you made when you squirted. Show me again.”

“J-Jay, I’m gonna—!” “Do it.” You scream when it happens again. Violent. Shocking. More intense than anything you’ve felt before. You don’t even feel like you’re in your body anymore, you’re floating, convulsing, crying as wetness sprays down your thighs and onto the mattress, soaking everything in sight.

You whimper, trying to close your legs, but he doesn’t let you. Jay groans deep in his chest, dragging your body down the sheets, manhandling you as if you weigh nothing. He grins. Eyes glowing. “I’m gonna ruin you with this,” he murmurs, kissing your thigh reverently before licking you clean. “You know that, right?” His tongue drags over your puffy, overstimulated pussy with excruciating slowness. “Now that I know you can do that? I’m never stopping.”

And he means it. Every time he touches you after this, every time he drops to his knees or spreads you open, he’s chasing that high again.

He’s addicted. And you? You’re fucked.

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ 

It starts with a challenge.

“I bet I can make you squirt,” Jake grins, head tilted, tongue running along his bottom lip. His hand is already tugging his shirt over his head, hair sticking to his forehead from the heat of your last round. He’s cocky, glistening, and fucking dangerous with that glint in his eye, the one he gets when he’s about to ruin you.

You’re breathless beneath him, cheeks flushed, thighs still twitching from your last orgasm. “You’re crazy.” Jake leans in, kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “You always say that. Then I prove you wrong.”

And that’s how you end up with your legs thrown over his shoulders, wrists pinned against the sheets, and his mouth buried between your thighs like a man starved. Jake eats pussy like it’s his goddamn job. Like he’s never tasted anything sweeter.

Like he could live and die with his face between your legs and still be satisfied. “Fuck, baby, you’re already so wet,” he mumbles, lips brushing your folds as his fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place. He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, then flattens his tongue and sucks at your clit until your back arches.

You moan helplessly, fingers twisting into the sheets, body already trembling. “Jake—oh my god—” “I got you,” he murmurs. “Just let go.”

But he doesn’t let up.

He licks and sucks and flicks with relentless precision, two fingers curling up inside you at just the right angle, over and over, until you’re choking on moans. You try to pull away, hips jerking, but he’s stronger, and he wants this. Wants you.

He presses harder. “You’re close,” he says, eyes dark and shining. “I can feel it.” You’re shaking under him, a mess of sweat and moans, barely able to breathe.

“Jake—fuck—I don’t think I can—” “Yes, you can,” he groans, voice thick with want. “Come on, baby. Give it to me. I want it. I want you to let go, all over my face.”

Your body tenses. Then snaps.

It hits you like a wave, hot, violent, blinding. Your thighs clamp around his head, and you cry out, hips bucking uncontrollably. And then, you feel it. The rush. The wet heat. A burst of sensation that has you screaming, twitching, trembling under his hold.

You’ve never come like this before. And Jake? He groans. “Holy fuck,” he pants, pulling back to watch. “You squirted, baby. All over me. Look at this—fuck, you’re so sexy—” His face is dripping. His abs, soaked. The sheets beneath you, ruined. And he looks at you like you’re art. Like he’s just witnessed the most divine fucking thing in existence.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment creeping in. But he crawls up and kisses you hard, tongue tangling with yours, tasting you, groaning low in his throat. “You have no idea how hot that was. I could die happy right now.”

“You’re insane,” you whisper against his mouth. Jake grins, eyes gleaming. “And you’re soaking for me. So guess what, baby?” He leans in close, lips brushing your ear. “We’re not done yet. Not until I make you do it again.”

ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ

Your thighs are trembling, wrists bound in silk against the headboard, the delicate fabric biting into your skin just enough to leave the faintest impression. You’re laid bare for him, neck arched, lashes clumped with tears, stomach flexing with every shaky breath.

Sunghoon sits between your legs like he owns you. He always has.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, tilting his head. The glint in his eyes is sharper than the knife he holds, and somehow just as dangerous. “Already dripping, and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

His voice is soft but cutting. Controlled. Predatory.

You jolt when he drags the flat edge of the blade along your thigh, cold and unforgiving, yet handled with such precision you can’t help but gasp. Your hips jerk upward in search of friction, but he doesn’t indulge you. Not yet.

“I said hold still.”

He doesn’t raise his voice. He never needs to. You still immediately. Breath caught. Pulse racing. Brain empty except for Sunghoon Sunghoon Sunghoon.

He hums, satisfied. The knife traces a line up, past your navel, grazing the underside of your breast. You don’t even realize you’re whimpering until he chuckles.

“This?” he says, finally setting the knife down beside you. “This is why you don’t let other men touch you. They wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

And then he leans in and spits on your cunt. You gasp, your entire body jolting, but before you can process the mess of saliva now mixing with your arousal, his mouth is on you. One long, slow lick that has your head flying back into the pillows.

“Oh my God—” He doesn’t give you time to recover. His tongue is relentless, broad strokes and fast circles, his nose bumping your clit, his lips pulling more obscene noises out of you than you thought yourself capable of.

His hands hold your thighs apart, thumbs digging bruises into your hips as you writhe beneath him. The silk binding your wrists tightens with every tug, but it’s not enough, not when your body is burning and his tongue keeps flicking that one spot over and over again.

“Sunghoon—fuck—fuck, I can’t—” “Yes, you can,” he says against your soaked pussy, voice muffled, lips shiny. “I want to see it.”

You blink through the tears. “See…?” He grins. Dark. Filthy. So, so smug. “Wanna see you squirt.”

Your whole body seizes at the words. “I know it’s in you. Pretty little thing like you?” He drags two fingers up your slit, teasing your entrance. “You’ve just never had someone pull it out before.”

He sinks the fingers in. You scream.

The angle is perfect. Crooked just right. Curling up to press against that spot inside you again and again and again.

“Shh,” he murmurs, mouth brushing your inner thigh. “Be good. You want me to stop?”

You shake your head frantically, unable to speak. His pace quickens. Wet, lewd squelching fills the room as he fucks you open with his fingers, each stroke harder than the last. You’re burning, overheating, tension coiling tight in your abdomen like a rubber band stretched too far.

And then he slaps your clit.

You convulse. It hits like a bullet. Your vision whites out. A sob bursts from your chest as your back arches, thighs clamping tight around his shoulders, and you squirt, hot, wet release splashing over his fingers, down his wrist, soaking the sheets beneath you.

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” Sunghoon growls, eyes wild with hunger, watching every drop drip out of you. “Knew you could do it. That’s my good little slut.”

Your body is trembling. Wrung out. You can barely breathe. But he doesn’t stop.

His fingers keep pumping. His tongue flicks your clit with renewed fervor, and you’re screaming, legs kicking, wrists jerking against the silk restraints as another orgasm crashes into you seconds later, violent and wet and messy and too much.

“Sunghoon, Sunghoon please—!”

He finally pulls back, lips wet, cheeks flushed, eyes blown black. “Don’t you ever hide that from me again.” Then he licks his fingers clean.

ꜱᴜɴᴏᴏ

You can barely breathe.

Fingers gripping the sheets, jaw slack, hips quivering under his iron grip, your whole body feels like it’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous. Something explosive. And Sunoo knows it. Knows exactly what he’s doing, exactly how to get you there, how to keep you helpless and begging and soaked.

He’s been edging you for ages. First with his mouth, slow licks, deep suckling, his tongue fucking into you like he’s starved, then his fingers, skilled and merciless, curling just right.

“Fuck—Sun- nghh!” you cry out, breath stuttering, thighs clenching around his wrist. His eyes flash up from between your legs, lips shiny with spit and arousal. “You're close again, huh?”

You nod frantically. He hums, slow and low, fingers never stopping. “No, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb along your clit with practiced precision. “I want more than that.”

“W-what—?” “I want you to cum so hard you soak the sheets.” His voice darkens. “You can do that for me, right? You’re gonna squirt for me, baby.” Your stomach clenches. “I don’t—I’ve never—”

His smirk is wicked, feral. “Exactly. I want to be the first. The only one who’s ever done that to you.” The confession alone makes your toes curl. He leans down again, mouthing at your clit with obscene care while his fingers thrust deeper, harder, searching for that exact spot that makes your back arch and your moans crack in your throat.

“Right there,” he growls. “That’s it, isn’t it?” Your answer is a broken gasp. Your hips jerk, your legs shake, and everything starts to go tight. Tighter than it ever has before. It feels overwhelming. Intense. Too much.

“Sunoo—fuck—please, I can’t—” “Yes, you can.” His voice is breathless now, wild with anticipation. “Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

You cry out as the pressure explodes. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, and for the first time ever, your body gives in completely. There’s a hot, liquid rush, and Sunoo groans, actually groans, when he feels it, when he sees it, watching you gush all over his fingers, soaking his hand and the bed beneath you. “Holy fuck, baby—look at you,” he moans, slowing his fingers only slightly. “You squirted for me. Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Your whole body is trembling. You’re not even sure if you're breathing anymore. But Sunoo doesn’t stop. He pulls his fingers out, glistening and soaked, and brings them to his mouth. His tongue darts out and licks them clean, moaning like he’s just tasted heaven.

“You taste so good when you cum like that,” he murmurs, climbing up your body to kiss you, slow and filthy. “Bet you didn’t even know you could do that, huh?” You shake your head, dazed.

He grins, wicked. “I did.” And before you can recover, he’s dragging your leg over his shoulder and pressing back in with two fingers again, right where you’re still so sensitive it hurts.

You cry out. He leans in, eyes gleaming. “We’re not done, sweetheart. I’m going to make you do it again.”

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ

It starts with the look on his face.

That soft smirk tugging at his lips. The gleam in his eyes that says he knows something you don’t. You’re panting, trembling under him, body already worn out from two orgasms, but he’s still fully clothed, lazily stroking two fingers up your soaked folds like he’s got all night.

And he does.

“You're shaking,” he hums, drawing slow circles over your clit until your hips twitch. “That cute little pussy of yours just can’t take it, huh?”

You whimper, too sensitive to speak, but his fingers dip back inside anyway, deep, curling up with precision that feels like a lightning strike.

“I haven’t even gotten inside you yet,” he teases. “You gonna fall apart just from this?” He presses hard against that spot inside you, the one that makes you choke on your moan, and your entire body jerks in response.

“W-Wonnie—ah—fuck—” His pace doesn’t change. Steady. Controlled. The pads of his fingers slick as they pump into you, slow and deep, while his thumb massages your clit with maddening pressure. And then he leans in, whispering against your jaw:

“You know what I wanna see, baby?” You’re too close to form words.

“I want you to squirt for me.” You freeze. “W-what—?” He chuckles lowly. “I know it’s in you. You just need someone to pull it out, don’t you? Let me show you what that pretty body can do.”

You try to protest, but he knows exactly how close you are, how wound up, how high-strung—because he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let you run from it. His mouth drops to your chest, licking and sucking at your nipples, just as his fingers start moving faster, angling deeper, and your mind starts blanking.

It hits you fast.

Your thighs lock up. Back arches. Your moan splinters into something ugly as the pleasure coils tight and snaps, and then,  “Oh, fuck—”

You squirt. You feel it, hot, uncontrollable, soaking his hand and dripping onto the sheets beneath you, and your entire body convulses as the orgasm rips through you harder than anything you’ve ever felt. It’s messy. Loud. Humiliating.

You cover your face, mortified. “Oh my God—Wonnie, I’m—”

But he laughs. Laughs, moans, and pulls your hands away from your face just to look into your eyes while your cunt still pulses around nothing. “Did you just squirt?” You try to look away. He doesn’t let you.

“Baby,” he breathes, still smiling, still stunned. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” You’re still panting. Still dazed. And suddenly overwhelmed. He notices, his teasing drops for a moment, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Look at me. Don’t go shy now. That was perfect, you hear me?” “But I—made a mess—” “I want you to make a mess,” he growls, voice low again, fingers slipping between your thighs to collect more of your wetness. “I want to ruin these sheets. I want to fuck you so good you can’t stop leaking. You think I don’t crave that?”

You’re quiet. He leans closer. “Next time?” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m going to make you squirt on my cock.”

ɴɪᴋɪ

You’ve been trembling for minutes now, thighs twitching as your back arches off the mattress, yet he still hasn’t stopped.

Ni-ki’s fingers are buried inside you, thick and merciless, curling in perfect rhythm against that devastating spot deep inside. His palm is slick with arousal, wrist flexing, knuckles wet with how much you've already soaked him. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop any of it.

And he knows. “Oh my god—Riki, I-I can’t—please—” “Yes, you can.” His voice is steady, low, wrecked with focus. “I told you I’d make it happen tonight, didn’t I? Gonna get you to cum so hard you don’t even know your name.”

His mouth is hot and wet on your neck, teeth grazing as he exhales hard against your skin. His free hand wraps around your thigh and pushes it higher, opening you up more even as you squirm under his grip. You’ve already cum twice, legs shaking uncontrollably, but this is different. You can feel it. Too intense. Too much.

“I-I think I’m gonna—fuck—” “Oh, you’re close?” he pants, almost sarcastic. “No shit. Look at the mess you’re making, baby.”

He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t even pretend to let up.

The squelch of his fingers dragging in and out of you fills the room, obscene and constant, punctuated by the wet slap of his palm against your clit each time his knuckles brush past. You’re gasping now, eyes wide and glassy. It’s too much and not enough. You’re dripping down your thighs, soaking the sheets, your stomach fluttering like you’re going to break apart.

And then it happens.

Your body snaps like a rubber band, legs spasming violently as a gush of liquid pours out of you, hot, sudden, unstoppable. It pulses from you like a wave crashing, like everything in you burst at once.

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby.” Ni-ki moans darkly, his fingers still moving. “You squirted for me, fuck, I knew you would. Look at you.” You're breathless, dizzy, your entire body flushed and twitching, mouth open as you try to speak, to think, something. But he’s not done.

He grins, pure menace glowing in his eyes. “Think I’m gonna stop now?” he whispers, dragging his soaked fingers up your overstimulated pussy before pushing right back in.

Your scream is hoarse, part sob, part cry of disbelief.

“No—Riki—please, I can’t—!” “Yes, you can,” he snarls, licking your slick off his lips as his hips grind against the mattress. “You’re so fucking pretty when you fall apart. You think I’m done just ‘cause you squirted once? Baby, I’ve barely started.”

He leans down again, licking a slow stripe up the inside of your thigh, eyes locked on your ruined cunt. “You’re gonna do it again. And again. And again. Until this whole fucking bed is drenched.”

He slides two fingers in again, then three, and you cry out, toes curling, entire body jerking as he shoves in deep and presses down on your lower stomach with his other hand.

“I want it messy,” he growls. “I want it dripping down your legs. I want you to cry from how good it feels.” You do. The next wave hits harder.

You scream, thighs slamming shut on his hand, but he forces them apart again, wide and shaking, his voice feral.

“Don’t run from it. Take it. You’re mine. This pussy’s mine.” Everything is wet. The sheets, the pillows, his arm, your stomach, it’s a fucking disaster and he loves it. He craves it. His lips are on your neck again, biting down as your body gives out, and still, he keeps going.

You squirt again. And again. He doesn’t let up until you’re sobbing, your body twitching so violently he has to hold you down, his voice low and teasing as he finally, finally lets you breathe. “You good?” he murmurs, brushing a soaked lock of hair from your eyes. “You okay, angel?” You nod weakly, chest heaving. He kisses your temple.

“Good. Next time, I want it in my mouth.”

ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ

Heeseung’s obsessed. It starts slow, just curiosity, a passing comment you made once about never having squirted before. You didn’t think much of it. But he did. The idea rooted deep in his mind, festered into something greedy. Now, weeks later, he’s on a mission. And it’s not romantic or sweet, it’s feral. Tonight, he’s not stopping until you’re writhing underneath him, dripping wet, slick running down his wrist like you’ve been split open.

You’re already trembling, thighs shaking from the second orgasm he pulled out of you. His lips are red from mouthing at your cunt, his jaw slick with your arousal. But he’s insatiable. “I know it’s in there,” he mutters, fingers curling inside you like he’s searching for treasure. “Just need to find that spot again, yeah? Pretty girl’s gonna give it to me.”

“Hee, fuck, I can’t—” “Yes, you can.” He grins, lips brushing your inner thigh, his voice dangerously low. “You want to, don’t you? Want to be my filthy little mess?”

You choke on a moan, hips jerking up as his fingers slide deeper, relentless. You’ve never felt this full from just his hand. And he’s calculated about it, pressing his palm down against your pelvis as he strokes inside with purpose, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Because he does. He’s memorized every twitch of your body. Every gasp. Every clench. “C’mon, baby,” he murmurs. “You’re so wet, look at that. Bet you’re close. Wanna see it so bad, wanna see you squirt all over my fucking hand.”

Your back arches. Your head falls back against the pillow. There’s pressure building, foreign, overwhelming, so much that you instinctively try to push him away. “Don’t,” he growls, grabbing your wrists with his free hand. “Don’t run. Stay still. Let go.” It’s overwhelming, it’s white, hot, searing pressure that you can’t control and it’s threatening to spill.

You whimper, nails digging into his forearm, and he takes that as a good sign, pressing down harder, stroking deeper, twisting his fingers just right until, “FUCK—!”

It happens like lightning. Your body seizes, toes curling, a strangled cry tearing from your throat as a gush of wetness spills from your core. It’s involuntary, unstoppable, an explosion of release that leaves you trembling, wide-eyed, and ruined. And Heeseung? He moans. Loudly.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, watching it happen like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “You squirted. Baby—fuck—you really did it.” He doesn’t stop. He can’t. His fingers keep moving, slower now but still deliberate, dragging more out of you even as your thighs twitch and your hips try to twist away.

“Too much—Hee—please—” “No,” he hisses, eyes blown black with desire. “Not done. Gotta see that again. You’re gonna do it again for me, yeah?”

You shake your head desperately, but he kisses you, swallowing your cries, his hand moving again, pressing that same spot, over and over, until your body spasms.

You cum again. Harder.

Another spray coats his fingers, slick running down his wrist, soaking the sheets. You scream, the intensity crashing over you like a tidal wave, and Heeseung is right there through all of it, murmuring praise against your neck.

“That’s my girl. So fucking perfect.” When you finally go limp, shuddering, panting, eyes glazed, he pulls back to admire the absolute wreck he’s made of you. Wet, ruined, trembling. His hand glistens.

He looks satisfied.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see that,” he whispers, dragging his soaked fingers up to his mouth. He licks them clean, eyes locked on yours as he moans low in his throat. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re still catching your breath when he kisses you, slow and deep and filthy.

But then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “Think I’m done?” He shifts lower, between your legs again, and you panic. “Heeseung—” He smirks. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna use my mouth this time.”

ᴊᴀʏ

It’s not even supposed to go that far tonight. You’re just meant to hang out, maybe kiss a little, tease each other like always. Jay’s already half-dressed though, white t-shirt riding up as he presses you against the mattress, his sweats dangerously low on his hips. He has that look in his eyes. The one that means he’s about to take his time.

And when Jay takes his time… you don’t walk the next morning. "You're already so wet," he murmurs, dragging two fingers slowly through your folds. He doesn't even sound smug, he sounds entranced, like he’s watching something precious unfold right under him.

You try to push your thighs together, but he’s stronger, holds your leg open with his elbow while he sinks down between them, licking a long, slow stripe over your slit. It’s gentle at first. Almost sweet. But Jay’s tongue isn’t innocent. It’s not shy or hesitant. It’s greedy, confident, ravenous.

“J-Jay—fuck—” your fingers tangle in his hair as he flattens his tongue against your clit and sucks, two fingers already pushing inside. He groans when he feels you tighten around them, knuckles deep now, curling just right there.

He feels your body jolt. Your thighs tremble violently around his head. Jay doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. He leans in. "You’re clenching so much, baby,” he rasps, his voice muffled by your dripping cunt. “Right there, huh? Right—there—" You're shaking so hard it’s pathetic. Your body can’t decide whether to run away or grind down harder. He’s relentless, rubbing deep inside while flicking your clit with his tongue, again and again, until your hips rise off the bed completely, and then you snap.

A harsh, helpless cry tears from your throat as a sudden gush of wetness soaks his hand, his face, the sheets, everything. You’ve never done that before. Your legs are quivering. You’re gasping. Babbling apologies as you try to close your thighs, but Jay is just staring. His soaked hand stays buried inside you, but his mouth falls open. Stunned. “I—holy shit,” he breathes. His lips are glistening. “You squirted.” “Wait—wait, I’m so sorry—” you whimper, trying to move away in mortified panic, but Jay’s eyes darken. “Don’t apologize.” He grabs your waist and shoves you flat against the bed again. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

He blinks, eyes wild. “I didn’t even know you could do that,” he says, dazed. “How long were you hiding that from me, huh?” “I-I didn’t know I could,” you admit, face hot. Your thighs are trembling, your chest heaving, but Jay isn’t done. “God…” he slides his soaked fingers back inside, curling again.

“Jay—” “No. Let me see it again.” He’s already lowering his head, tongue out. “Please.” “Jay, I can’t—” “Yes you can,” he growls, biting into your thigh hard enough to leave a mark. “You think I’m not gonna chase that again? Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you just did to me.”

He sounds wrecked. Possessed. Like you broke something loose inside him. His mouth latches back onto your clit with zero mercy, licking and sucking with ruthless precision while his fingers pump into your pussy harder, faster, more deliberate. You’re already oversensitive, wailing, but he loves it. Loves seeing you fall apart. Loves seeing the slick build up around his knuckles, sliding down his wrist. “That’s it,” he pants, watching you unravel. “That’s the face you made when you squirted. Show me again.”

“J-Jay, I’m gonna—!” “Do it.” You scream when it happens again. Violent. Shocking. More intense than anything you’ve felt before. You don’t even feel like you’re in your body anymore, you’re floating, convulsing, crying as wetness sprays down your thighs and onto the mattress, soaking everything in sight.

You whimper, trying to close your legs, but he doesn’t let you. Jay groans deep in his chest, dragging your body down the sheets, manhandling you as if you weigh nothing. He grins. Eyes glowing. “I’m gonna ruin you with this,” he murmurs, kissing your thigh reverently before licking you clean. “You know that, right?” His tongue drags over your puffy, overstimulated pussy with excruciating slowness. “Now that I know you can do that? I’m never stopping.”

And he means it. Every time he touches you after this, every time he drops to his knees or spreads you open, he’s chasing that high again.

He’s addicted. And you? You’re fucked.

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ 

It starts with a challenge.

“I bet I can make you squirt,” Jake grins, head tilted, tongue running along his bottom lip. His hand is already tugging his shirt over his head, hair sticking to his forehead from the heat of your last round. He’s cocky, glistening, and fucking dangerous with that glint in his eye, the one he gets when he’s about to ruin you.

You’re breathless beneath him, cheeks flushed, thighs still twitching from your last orgasm. “You’re crazy.” Jake leans in, kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “You always say that. Then I prove you wrong.”

And that’s how you end up with your legs thrown over his shoulders, wrists pinned against the sheets, and his mouth buried between your thighs like a man starved. Jake eats pussy like it’s his goddamn job. Like he’s never tasted anything sweeter.

Like he could live and die with his face between your legs and still be satisfied. “Fuck, baby, you’re already so wet,” he mumbles, lips brushing your folds as his fingers dig into your hips, holding you in place. He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, then flattens his tongue and sucks at your clit until your back arches.

You moan helplessly, fingers twisting into the sheets, body already trembling. “Jake—oh my god—” “I got you,” he murmurs. “Just let go.”

But he doesn’t let up.

He licks and sucks and flicks with relentless precision, two fingers curling up inside you at just the right angle, over and over, until you’re choking on moans. You try to pull away, hips jerking, but he’s stronger, and he wants this. Wants you.

He presses harder. “You’re close,” he says, eyes dark and shining. “I can feel it.” You’re shaking under him, a mess of sweat and moans, barely able to breathe.

“Jake—fuck—I don’t think I can—” “Yes, you can,” he groans, voice thick with want. “Come on, baby. Give it to me. I want it. I want you to let go, all over my face.”

Your body tenses. Then snaps.

It hits you like a wave, hot, violent, blinding. Your thighs clamp around his head, and you cry out, hips bucking uncontrollably. And then, you feel it. The rush. The wet heat. A burst of sensation that has you screaming, twitching, trembling under his hold.

You’ve never come like this before. And Jake? He groans. “Holy fuck,” he pants, pulling back to watch. “You squirted, baby. All over me. Look at this—fuck, you’re so sexy—” His face is dripping. His abs, soaked. The sheets beneath you, ruined. And he looks at you like you’re art. Like he’s just witnessed the most divine fucking thing in existence.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment creeping in. But he crawls up and kisses you hard, tongue tangling with yours, tasting you, groaning low in his throat. “You have no idea how hot that was. I could die happy right now.”

“You’re insane,” you whisper against his mouth. Jake grins, eyes gleaming. “And you’re soaking for me. So guess what, baby?” He leans in close, lips brushing your ear. “We’re not done yet. Not until I make you do it again.”

ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ

Your thighs are trembling, wrists bound in silk against the headboard, the delicate fabric biting into your skin just enough to leave the faintest impression. You’re laid bare for him, neck arched, lashes clumped with tears, stomach flexing with every shaky breath.

Sunghoon sits between your legs like he owns you. He always has.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, tilting his head. The glint in his eyes is sharper than the knife he holds, and somehow just as dangerous. “Already dripping, and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

His voice is soft but cutting. Controlled. Predatory.

You jolt when he drags the flat edge of the blade along your thigh, cold and unforgiving, yet handled with such precision you can’t help but gasp. Your hips jerk upward in search of friction, but he doesn’t indulge you. Not yet.

“I said hold still.”

He doesn’t raise his voice. He never needs to. You still immediately. Breath caught. Pulse racing. Brain empty except for Sunghoon Sunghoon Sunghoon.

He hums, satisfied. The knife traces a line up, past your navel, grazing the underside of your breast. You don’t even realize you’re whimpering until he chuckles.

“This?” he says, finally setting the knife down beside you. “This is why you don’t let other men touch you. They wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

And then he leans in and spits on your cunt. You gasp, your entire body jolting, but before you can process the mess of saliva now mixing with your arousal, his mouth is on you. One long, slow lick that has your head flying back into the pillows.

“Oh my God—” He doesn’t give you time to recover. His tongue is relentless, broad strokes and fast circles, his nose bumping your clit, his lips pulling more obscene noises out of you than you thought yourself capable of.

His hands hold your thighs apart, thumbs digging bruises into your hips as you writhe beneath him. The silk binding your wrists tightens with every tug, but it’s not enough, not when your body is burning and his tongue keeps flicking that one spot over and over again.

“Sunghoon—fuck—fuck, I can’t—” “Yes, you can,” he says against your soaked pussy, voice muffled, lips shiny. “I want to see it.”

You blink through the tears. “See…?” He grins. Dark. Filthy. So, so smug. “Wanna see you squirt.”

Your whole body seizes at the words. “I know it’s in you. Pretty little thing like you?” He drags two fingers up your slit, teasing your entrance. “You’ve just never had someone pull it out before.”

He sinks the fingers in. You scream.

The angle is perfect. Crooked just right. Curling up to press against that spot inside you again and again and again.

“Shh,” he murmurs, mouth brushing your inner thigh. “Be good. You want me to stop?”

You shake your head frantically, unable to speak. His pace quickens. Wet, lewd squelching fills the room as he fucks you open with his fingers, each stroke harder than the last. You’re burning, overheating, tension coiling tight in your abdomen like a rubber band stretched too far.

And then he slaps your clit.

You convulse. It hits like a bullet. Your vision whites out. A sob bursts from your chest as your back arches, thighs clamping tight around his shoulders, and you squirt, hot, wet release splashing over his fingers, down his wrist, soaking the sheets beneath you.

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” Sunghoon growls, eyes wild with hunger, watching every drop drip out of you. “Knew you could do it. That’s my good little slut.”

Your body is trembling. Wrung out. You can barely breathe. But he doesn’t stop.

His fingers keep pumping. His tongue flicks your clit with renewed fervor, and you’re screaming, legs kicking, wrists jerking against the silk restraints as another orgasm crashes into you seconds later, violent and wet and messy and too much.

“Sunghoon, Sunghoon please—!”

He finally pulls back, lips wet, cheeks flushed, eyes blown black. “Don’t you ever hide that from me again.” Then he licks his fingers clean.

ꜱᴜɴᴏᴏ

You can barely breathe.

Fingers gripping the sheets, jaw slack, hips quivering under his iron grip, your whole body feels like it’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous. Something explosive. And Sunoo knows it. Knows exactly what he’s doing, exactly how to get you there, how to keep you helpless and begging and soaked.

He’s been edging you for ages. First with his mouth, slow licks, deep suckling, his tongue fucking into you like he’s starved, then his fingers, skilled and merciless, curling just right.

“Fuck—Sun- nghh!” you cry out, breath stuttering, thighs clenching around his wrist. His eyes flash up from between your legs, lips shiny with spit and arousal. “You're close again, huh?”

You nod frantically. He hums, slow and low, fingers never stopping. “No, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb along your clit with practiced precision. “I want more than that.”

“W-what—?” “I want you to cum so hard you soak the sheets.” His voice darkens. “You can do that for me, right? You’re gonna squirt for me, baby.” Your stomach clenches. “I don’t—I’ve never—”

His smirk is wicked, feral. “Exactly. I want to be the first. The only one who’s ever done that to you.” The confession alone makes your toes curl. He leans down again, mouthing at your clit with obscene care while his fingers thrust deeper, harder, searching for that exact spot that makes your back arch and your moans crack in your throat.

“Right there,” he growls. “That’s it, isn’t it?” Your answer is a broken gasp. Your hips jerk, your legs shake, and everything starts to go tight. Tighter than it ever has before. It feels overwhelming. Intense. Too much.

“Sunoo—fuck—please, I can’t—” “Yes, you can.” His voice is breathless now, wild with anticipation. “Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

You cry out as the pressure explodes. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, and for the first time ever, your body gives in completely. There’s a hot, liquid rush, and Sunoo groans, actually groans, when he feels it, when he sees it, watching you gush all over his fingers, soaking his hand and the bed beneath you. “Holy fuck, baby—look at you,” he moans, slowing his fingers only slightly. “You squirted for me. Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Your whole body is trembling. You’re not even sure if you're breathing anymore. But Sunoo doesn’t stop. He pulls his fingers out, glistening and soaked, and brings them to his mouth. His tongue darts out and licks them clean, moaning like he’s just tasted heaven.

“You taste so good when you cum like that,” he murmurs, climbing up your body to kiss you, slow and filthy. “Bet you didn’t even know you could do that, huh?” You shake your head, dazed.

He grins, wicked. “I did.” And before you can recover, he’s dragging your leg over his shoulder and pressing back in with two fingers again, right where you’re still so sensitive it hurts.

You cry out. He leans in, eyes gleaming. “We’re not done, sweetheart. I’m going to make you do it again.”

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ

It starts with the look on his face.

That soft smirk tugging at his lips. The gleam in his eyes that says he knows something you don’t. You’re panting, trembling under him, body already worn out from two orgasms, but he’s still fully clothed, lazily stroking two fingers up your soaked folds like he’s got all night.

And he does.

“You're shaking,” he hums, drawing slow circles over your clit until your hips twitch. “That cute little pussy of yours just can’t take it, huh?”

You whimper, too sensitive to speak, but his fingers dip back inside anyway, deep, curling up with precision that feels like a lightning strike.

“I haven’t even gotten inside you yet,” he teases. “You gonna fall apart just from this?” He presses hard against that spot inside you, the one that makes you choke on your moan, and your entire body jerks in response.

“W-Wonnie—ah—fuck—” His pace doesn’t change. Steady. Controlled. The pads of his fingers slick as they pump into you, slow and deep, while his thumb massages your clit with maddening pressure. And then he leans in, whispering against your jaw:

“You know what I wanna see, baby?” You’re too close to form words.

“I want you to squirt for me.” You freeze. “W-what—?” He chuckles lowly. “I know it’s in you. You just need someone to pull it out, don’t you? Let me show you what that pretty body can do.”

You try to protest, but he knows exactly how close you are, how wound up, how high-strung—because he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let you run from it. His mouth drops to your chest, licking and sucking at your nipples, just as his fingers start moving faster, angling deeper, and your mind starts blanking.

It hits you fast.

Your thighs lock up. Back arches. Your moan splinters into something ugly as the pleasure coils tight and snaps, and then,  “Oh, fuck—”

You squirt. You feel it, hot, uncontrollable, soaking his hand and dripping onto the sheets beneath you, and your entire body convulses as the orgasm rips through you harder than anything you’ve ever felt. It’s messy. Loud. Humiliating.

You cover your face, mortified. “Oh my God—Wonnie, I’m—”

But he laughs. Laughs, moans, and pulls your hands away from your face just to look into your eyes while your cunt still pulses around nothing. “Did you just squirt?” You try to look away. He doesn’t let you.

“Baby,” he breathes, still smiling, still stunned. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” You’re still panting. Still dazed. And suddenly overwhelmed. He notices, his teasing drops for a moment, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Look at me. Don’t go shy now. That was perfect, you hear me?” “But I—made a mess—” “I want you to make a mess,” he growls, voice low again, fingers slipping between your thighs to collect more of your wetness. “I want to ruin these sheets. I want to fuck you so good you can’t stop leaking. You think I don’t crave that?”

You’re quiet. He leans closer. “Next time?” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m going to make you squirt on my cock.”

ɴɪᴋɪ

You’ve been trembling for minutes now, thighs twitching as your back arches off the mattress, yet he still hasn’t stopped.

Ni-ki’s fingers are buried inside you, thick and merciless, curling in perfect rhythm against that devastating spot deep inside. His palm is slick with arousal, wrist flexing, knuckles wet with how much you've already soaked him. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop any of it.

And he knows. “Oh my god—Riki, I-I can’t—please—” “Yes, you can.” His voice is steady, low, wrecked with focus. “I told you I’d make it happen tonight, didn’t I? Gonna get you to cum so hard you don’t even know your name.”

His mouth is hot and wet on your neck, teeth grazing as he exhales hard against your skin. His free hand wraps around your thigh and pushes it higher, opening you up more even as you squirm under his grip. You’ve already cum twice, legs shaking uncontrollably, but this is different. You can feel it. Too intense. Too much.

“I-I think I’m gonna—fuck—” “Oh, you’re close?” he pants, almost sarcastic. “No shit. Look at the mess you’re making, baby.”

He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t even pretend to let up.

The squelch of his fingers dragging in and out of you fills the room, obscene and constant, punctuated by the wet slap of his palm against your clit each time his knuckles brush past. You’re gasping now, eyes wide and glassy. It’s too much and not enough. You’re dripping down your thighs, soaking the sheets, your stomach fluttering like you’re going to break apart.

And then it happens.

Your body snaps like a rubber band, legs spasming violently as a gush of liquid pours out of you, hot, sudden, unstoppable. It pulses from you like a wave crashing, like everything in you burst at once.

“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby.” Ni-ki moans darkly, his fingers still moving. “You squirted for me, fuck, I knew you would. Look at you.” You're breathless, dizzy, your entire body flushed and twitching, mouth open as you try to speak, to think, something. But he’s not done.

He grins, pure menace glowing in his eyes. “Think I’m gonna stop now?” he whispers, dragging his soaked fingers up your overstimulated pussy before pushing right back in.

Your scream is hoarse, part sob, part cry of disbelief.

“No—Riki—please, I can’t—!” “Yes, you can,” he snarls, licking your slick off his lips as his hips grind against the mattress. “You’re so fucking pretty when you fall apart. You think I’m done just ‘cause you squirted once? Baby, I’ve barely started.”

He leans down again, licking a slow stripe up the inside of your thigh, eyes locked on your ruined cunt. “You’re gonna do it again. And again. And again. Until this whole fucking bed is drenched.”

He slides two fingers in again, then three, and you cry out, toes curling, entire body jerking as he shoves in deep and presses down on your lower stomach with his other hand.

“I want it messy,” he growls. “I want it dripping down your legs. I want you to cry from how good it feels.” You do. The next wave hits harder.

You scream, thighs slamming shut on his hand, but he forces them apart again, wide and shaking, his voice feral.

“Don’t run from it. Take it. You’re mine. This pussy’s mine.” Everything is wet. The sheets, the pillows, his arm, your stomach, it’s a fucking disaster and he loves it. He craves it. His lips are on your neck again, biting down as your body gives out, and still, he keeps going.

You squirt again. And again. He doesn’t let up until you’re sobbing, your body twitching so violently he has to hold you down, his voice low and teasing as he finally, finally lets you breathe. “You good?” he murmurs, brushing a soaked lock of hair from your eyes. “You okay, angel?” You nod weakly, chest heaving. He kisses your temple.

“Good. Next time, I want it in my mouth.”

Masterlist

⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands,⟡ @yuriloveshee,  ⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @add-this-to-that,  ⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie,  ⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk  ⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful,  ⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw,  ⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy,  ⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001  ⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq,

✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧

⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar,  ⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3,  ⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee,  ⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry,  ⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard,  ⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation,  ⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito,  ⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj,  ⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi,  ⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo,  ⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz,  ⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies

[swiftjay23]

Guys, I'm beyond grateful for each and every single fucking one of you who took the time to hear me out and listen to my absolute jumble of thoughts. A little over a month ago, I started posting my ideas on Tumblr, and I didn't realise a silly, impulsive idea would get me to 202 followers. Once again, thank you so much. You all mean the world to me. I hope to feed more of your delusions and share more of my unhinged ideas in the future.

With much love, gratitude and respect, Swiftjay23

[swiftjay23]

if you can't decide between a member, this ones for you

this might be a little stupid, but could you do enhypen when reader accidentally eats “special chocolates” (aphrodisiacs) and needs help with the affects 😀…?

...

Oh, it’s delightfully stupid. 💌 And I'm in love

Say less. 😇 I might need help with the effects that writing this has had on me...

MDNI

ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ

He catches you pressed up against the kitchen counter, legs trembling, knuckles white from gripping the edge.

“Y/N?” Heeseung’s voice is casual, curious. “What’s up with you?” You turn, flushed, eyes glassy. “I—ate something. From that box, on the table. The red one—”

Heeseung’s face freezes. “The red box?” You nod. “They tasted weird. I thought they were just fancy.” He exhales sharply. “Those were… special. You shouldn’t be eating those alone.”

Your breath hitches, thighs squeezing together as another wave rolls over you. Everything’s hypersensitive, your nipples, the air on your skin, the way his voice makes you throb.

“Make it stop,” you whimper, and that’s when he really looks at you, face scrunched in need, pupils blown, chest heaving. He steps closer, towering over you. “You need help, baby?”

You nod.

“Then get on the counter.” You scramble up, dizzy with lust, and he pulls your legs apart. No teasing. No warm-up. Just those big hands gripping your thighs, head dipping down between them.

“You wanna be reckless?” he mutters against your skin. “Then take the consequences.” He makes you come twice on his tongue before even unzipping his jeans. You’re crying by the time he pushes in, deep and slow, like he owns you. “Fuck, you’re dripping. Feel that? That’s how bad you needed me.”And when your hips buck, desperate for more, he growls in your ear, “Be greedy. I’ll ruin you as many times as it takes.”

ᴊᴀʏ

He notices when your voice gets breathy. When your thighs start rubbing together under the table. When your skin breaks into a sweat while doing absolutely nothing.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice low and unreadable. You try to wave him off, but he’s already spotted the empty chocolate box on the couch.

Jay swears under his breath. “Y/N.” Your eyes meet his. “Help me,” you breathe. In two seconds flat, he’s grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the bedroom.

“You don’t get to make dumb choices,” he snaps, backing you into the bed. “But you do get to pay for them.” He’s rough but controlled, pinning your wrists above your head, biting down your neck as his thigh wedges between yours.

Your voice is hoarse, needy: “Jay, please, feels like I’m gonna explode—” “Oh you will,” he says darkly. “But only when I say you can.”

He fucks you slow, deep, agonizing, like every stroke is a punishment. “You’re flushed. Dripping. Shaking. You like being this desperate, don’t you?” Your back arches. He chuckles cruelly. “Thought so.”

When you come, it’s with his hand over your mouth and his hips grinding deep, pushing you into the mattress until you forget your own name.

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ 

You’re trembling in the corner of his room, shirt discarded, hand between your thighs and eyes wild with need.

“Jake,” you pant. “Please—I need—fuck, I can’t think—” His heart stutters, then slams. He crosses the room in two steps, kneeling between your legs.

“Babe. What the hell did you eat?” You point blindly to the counter. The box is open. Jake’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Baby, those are literal sex chocolates. Like, aphrodisiacs times ten.”

You whimper, hating how the sound echoes through the room like a cry for help. Jake cups your cheek. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, alright? I’m right here.”

Then he strips, fast and clean. His voice drops into something sinful. “I’ll take care of you. Gonna fuck you nice and slow till you feel good again.” He slides into you so deep, you arch and scream, back bowing off the floor. And then? He doesn’t stop. He rocks into you, hips languid, dragging his cock against every drenched, velvet inch of your walls.

“You’re so fucking wet. Squeezing me like a virgin. Shit, baby, how many times do you want it?” You barely form words. “That’s what I thought,” he pants. “I’m not stopping until I see drool on your chin and tears in your eyes.”

And he doesn’t. Not till your legs are shaking, your throat is raw, and your body’s nothing but a wet, ruined mess on the floor.

ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ

You’re sweating, barely standing, grinding against the corner of the kitchen counter with a glazed-over expression. Sunghoon walks in, and for a split second, he just stares.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You look up, eyes watery. “I ate something. Those chocolates…” His jaw clenches.

“You ate those?” he repeats slowly. “And now you’re getting off on my countertop like a dumb little slut?” You let out a needy, helpless sob, and it flips a switch in him. Next thing you know, he’s dragging you into the bedroom by the wrist, tossing you on the bed like a toy.

“You’re gonna be sorry,” he mutters. “You wanted to be desperate? You wanted to be fucked like a dumb hole?”

He slaps your inner thigh.

“Then spread.”

And when he slams into you bare, no warning, you scream.

“Oh, you like it raw, huh? Fucking dripping for it.”

He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back. “Look at yourself,” he snarls. “Pathetic. Dumb. Ruined.”

He fucks you until your legs give out, until your mind blanks, until all you know is SunghoonSunghoonSunghoon and the burn of overstimulation.

ꜱᴜɴᴏᴏ

“Sunoo, please—fuck, it hurts—” You’re writhing in his bed, completely undone, back arched, nipples hard, slick dripping between your thighs like honey.

Sunoo leans over you, head tilting in mock sympathy.

“Oh no, baby… it hurts?” he whispers. “And here I thought you liked being full and needy.”

You whimper. He giggles, but there’s a glint in his eyes. Then he climbs on top of you, straddling your waist, pinning your wrists with one hand.

“You shouldn’t have eaten those without asking,” he sings softly. “Now look what you made me do.”

He sinks down onto your face first, thighs locking around your head.  “You want to come? Make me come first.” When he finally fucks you, it’s with your wrists tied, your body quivering, and his voice purring filth into your ear.

Your cheeks are hollowed around him, tears welling up in your eyes, but the sheer pleasure of him is overwhelming. 

“You’re shaking. So sensitive. Should I stop?”  You cry out.  “Aww… you do want more.” And he fucks you harder.

By the third round, your voice is gone. Sunoo kisses your swollen lips, his cock still hard, and whispers, “You’re not allowed to eat anything without me ever again.”

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ

You’re curled up on the floor, naked, flushed, panting like a fevered animal. He kneels next to you, gentle hands stroking your face. “Y/N, what happened—?”

Your hand points weakly to the discarded chocolates. “Oh, sweetheart…”

Jungwon’s breath shakes.

“You’re burning up,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers down your chest. You flinch.

“Sensitive?”

You nod desperately.

He kisses you slow—so sweet you almost cry.

“You trust me?” “Yes—yes—Jungwon, please—”

He lifts you into his lap like you weigh nothing, sliding your legs open.

“Then let me break you gently.”

He eats you out like he’s starving, hands holding you wide, whispering praise and filth against your folds.

“Such a good girl. Tastes like sugar. Want me inside you now?”

He fucks you slow. Deep. Every grind making you cry.

“I know, baby,” he coos, “you’re so full, I know. Just a little more. Take it for me, yeah?”

When you fall apart, sobbing into his chest, he wraps his arms around you and fucks you through it.

“Let it happen. I’ve got you. Just fall.”

And you do.

ɴɪᴋɪ

He finds you curled up on the couch, panting, squirming, hand half-down your shorts with a wrecked look on your face.

“What the fuck—?” Ni-ki blinks. Then he sees the open box on the floor.

He picks one up, sniffs it. “Oh. You’re fucked.”

You whimper. “Ni-ki, please, I didn’t know—”

“You look like you’re about to cry,” he says softly, kneeling beside you. “All hot and helpless.”

You don’t respond. You just clutch at him, whimpering as your body shakes.

And then he smirks. "Alright. But just know, I’m not doing this out of pity."

He pushes your shorts down roughly, eyes gleaming. "You're not thinking straight, so I’ll think for you."

His fingers slide in, deep and fast, and you scream, head falling back. "Shhh," he whispers, licking into your throat, "don't wanna waste that pretty voice too soon."

By the time he has you sobbing under him, cock buried deep, you’re nothing but a mess, drool on your chin, legs spread wide, nails raking down his back.

He’s relentless. “You taste like sugar,” he groans. “I should’ve fucked you sooner.”

And when he finally lets you come, you collapse, ruined, sweaty, twitching. He just leans back and admires the mess he made.

“Next time you want to eat random chocolates… call me first.”

masterlist

⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands,⟡ @yuriloveshee,  ⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @add-this-to-that,  ⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie,  ⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk  ⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful,  ⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw,  ⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy,  ⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001  ⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq,

✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧

⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar,  ⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3,  ⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee,  ⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry,  ⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard,  ⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation,  ⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito,  ⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj,  ⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi,  ⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo,  ⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz,  ⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies

[swiftjay23]

love your new theme OMFG

THANKS SWEETIE <3 I LOVE YOU MORE

[swiftjay23]

this might be a little stupid, but could you do enhypen when reader accidentally eats “special chocolates” (aphrodisiacs) and needs help with the affects 😀…?

...

Oh, it’s delightfully stupid. 💌 And I'm in love

Say less. 😇 I might need help with the effects that writing this has had on me...

MDNI

ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ

He catches you pressed up against the kitchen counter, legs trembling, knuckles white from gripping the edge.

“Y/N?” Heeseung’s voice is casual, curious. “What’s up with you?” You turn, flushed, eyes glassy. “I—ate something. From that box, on the table. The red one—”

Heeseung’s face freezes. “The red box?” You nod. “They tasted weird. I thought they were just fancy.” He exhales sharply. “Those were… special. You shouldn’t be eating those alone.”

Your breath hitches, thighs squeezing together as another wave rolls over you. Everything’s hypersensitive, your nipples, the air on your skin, the way his voice makes you throb.

“Make it stop,” you whimper, and that’s when he really looks at you, face scrunched in need, pupils blown, chest heaving. He steps closer, towering over you. “You need help, baby?”

You nod.

“Then get on the counter.” You scramble up, dizzy with lust, and he pulls your legs apart. No teasing. No warm-up. Just those big hands gripping your thighs, head dipping down between them.

“You wanna be reckless?” he mutters against your skin. “Then take the consequences.” He makes you come twice on his tongue before even unzipping his jeans. You’re crying by the time he pushes in, deep and slow, like he owns you. “Fuck, you’re dripping. Feel that? That’s how bad you needed me.”And when your hips buck, desperate for more, he growls in your ear, “Be greedy. I’ll ruin you as many times as it takes.”

ᴊᴀʏ

He notices when your voice gets breathy. When your thighs start rubbing together under the table. When your skin breaks into a sweat while doing absolutely nothing.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice low and unreadable. You try to wave him off, but he’s already spotted the empty chocolate box on the couch.

Jay swears under his breath. “Y/N.” Your eyes meet his. “Help me,” you breathe. In two seconds flat, he’s grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the bedroom.

“You don’t get to make dumb choices,” he snaps, backing you into the bed. “But you do get to pay for them.” He’s rough but controlled, pinning your wrists above your head, biting down your neck as his thigh wedges between yours.

Your voice is hoarse, needy: “Jay, please, feels like I’m gonna explode—” “Oh you will,” he says darkly. “But only when I say you can.”

He fucks you slow, deep, agonizing, like every stroke is a punishment. “You’re flushed. Dripping. Shaking. You like being this desperate, don’t you?” Your back arches. He chuckles cruelly. “Thought so.”

When you come, it’s with his hand over your mouth and his hips grinding deep, pushing you into the mattress until you forget your own name.

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ 

You’re trembling in the corner of his room, shirt discarded, hand between your thighs and eyes wild with need.

“Jake,” you pant. “Please—I need—fuck, I can’t think—” His heart stutters, then slams. He crosses the room in two steps, kneeling between your legs.

“Babe. What the hell did you eat?” You point blindly to the counter. The box is open. Jake’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Baby, those are literal sex chocolates. Like, aphrodisiacs times ten.”

You whimper, hating how the sound echoes through the room like a cry for help. Jake cups your cheek. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, alright? I’m right here.”

Then he strips, fast and clean. His voice drops into something sinful. “I’ll take care of you. Gonna fuck you nice and slow till you feel good again.” He slides into you so deep, you arch and scream, back bowing off the floor. And then? He doesn’t stop. He rocks into you, hips languid, dragging his cock against every drenched, velvet inch of your walls.

“You’re so fucking wet. Squeezing me like a virgin. Shit, baby, how many times do you want it?” You barely form words. “That’s what I thought,” he pants. “I’m not stopping until I see drool on your chin and tears in your eyes.”

And he doesn’t. Not till your legs are shaking, your throat is raw, and your body’s nothing but a wet, ruined mess on the floor.

ꜱᴜɴɢʜᴏᴏɴ

You’re sweating, barely standing, grinding against the corner of the kitchen counter with a glazed-over expression. Sunghoon walks in, and for a split second, he just stares.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You look up, eyes watery. “I ate something. Those chocolates…” His jaw clenches.

“You ate those?” he repeats slowly. “And now you’re getting off on my countertop like a dumb little slut?” You let out a needy, helpless sob, and it flips a switch in him. Next thing you know, he’s dragging you into the bedroom by the wrist, tossing you on the bed like a toy.

“You’re gonna be sorry,” he mutters. “You wanted to be desperate? You wanted to be fucked like a dumb hole?”

He slaps your inner thigh.

“Then spread.”

And when he slams into you bare, no warning, you scream.

“Oh, you like it raw, huh? Fucking dripping for it.”

He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back. “Look at yourself,” he snarls. “Pathetic. Dumb. Ruined.”

He fucks you until your legs give out, until your mind blanks, until all you know is SunghoonSunghoonSunghoon and the burn of overstimulation.

ꜱᴜɴᴏᴏ

“Sunoo, please—fuck, it hurts—” You’re writhing in his bed, completely undone, back arched, nipples hard, slick dripping between your thighs like honey.

Sunoo leans over you, head tilting in mock sympathy.

“Oh no, baby… it hurts?” he whispers. “And here I thought you liked being full and needy.”

You whimper. He giggles, but there’s a glint in his eyes. Then he climbs on top of you, straddling your waist, pinning your wrists with one hand.

“You shouldn’t have eaten those without asking,” he sings softly. “Now look what you made me do.”

He sinks down onto your face first, thighs locking around your head.  “You want to come? Make me come first.” When he finally fucks you, it’s with your wrists tied, your body quivering, and his voice purring filth into your ear.

Your cheeks are hollowed around him, tears welling up in your eyes, but the sheer pleasure of him is overwhelming. 

“You’re shaking. So sensitive. Should I stop?”  You cry out.  “Aww… you do want more.” And he fucks you harder.

By the third round, your voice is gone. Sunoo kisses your swollen lips, his cock still hard, and whispers, “You’re not allowed to eat anything without me ever again.”

ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ

You’re curled up on the floor, naked, flushed, panting like a fevered animal. He kneels next to you, gentle hands stroking your face. “Y/N, what happened—?”

Your hand points weakly to the discarded chocolates. “Oh, sweetheart…”

Jungwon’s breath shakes.

“You’re burning up,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers down your chest. You flinch.

“Sensitive?”

You nod desperately.

He kisses you slow—so sweet you almost cry.

“You trust me?” “Yes—yes—Jungwon, please—”

He lifts you into his lap like you weigh nothing, sliding your legs open.

“Then let me break you gently.”

He eats you out like he’s starving, hands holding you wide, whispering praise and filth against your folds.

“Such a good girl. Tastes like sugar. Want me inside you now?”

He fucks you slow. Deep. Every grind making you cry.

“I know, baby,” he coos, “you’re so full, I know. Just a little more. Take it for me, yeah?”

When you fall apart, sobbing into his chest, he wraps his arms around you and fucks you through it.

“Let it happen. I’ve got you. Just fall.”

And you do.

ɴɪᴋɪ

He finds you curled up on the couch, panting, squirming, hand half-down your shorts with a wrecked look on your face.

“What the fuck—?” Ni-ki blinks. Then he sees the open box on the floor.

He picks one up, sniffs it. “Oh. You’re fucked.”

You whimper. “Ni-ki, please, I didn’t know—”

“You look like you’re about to cry,” he says softly, kneeling beside you. “All hot and helpless.”

You don’t respond. You just clutch at him, whimpering as your body shakes.

And then he smirks. "Alright. But just know, I’m not doing this out of pity."

He pushes your shorts down roughly, eyes gleaming. "You're not thinking straight, so I’ll think for you."

His fingers slide in, deep and fast, and you scream, head falling back. "Shhh," he whispers, licking into your throat, "don't wanna waste that pretty voice too soon."

By the time he has you sobbing under him, cock buried deep, you’re nothing but a mess, drool on your chin, legs spread wide, nails raking down his back.

He’s relentless. “You taste like sugar,” he groans. “I should’ve fucked you sooner.”

And when he finally lets you come, you collapse, ruined, sweaty, twitching. He just leans back and admires the mess he made.

“Next time you want to eat random chocolates… call me first.”

masterlist

⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands,⟡ @yuriloveshee,  ⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @add-this-to-that,  ⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie,  ⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk  ⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful,  ⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw,  ⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy,  ⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001  ⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq,

✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧

⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar,  ⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3,  ⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee,  ⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry,  ⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard,  ⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation,  ⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito,  ⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj,  ⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi,  ⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo,  ⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz,  ⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies

[swiftjay23]

Would you be okay to take different kinds of requests (Katseye x reader?) You are a really versatile writer, I love your writing

Hii, first of all, thank you so much for your compliment, and second of all, yes, I'm down to take requests for Katseye and any other idea you have in mind!

[swiftjay23]

Do you write for TXT??

Hii <3 Not really, although I do stan TXT, I haven't begun writing for them yet. However, I'm willing to explore that option. Please send any requests you have, and I'll give it my all.

I've been waiting for the right moment and ideas to write for TXT (Yes i was going to, I love them so much), but thank you for asking!

[swiftjay23]

🚢 Aye Aye Aye!

All aboard, we’re sailing steady with 178 followers and 88 posts, and I couldn’t be happier!! 🎉💌 One month ago, I started with nothing but my keyboard and a mind swimming with ideas, with little knowledge of writing.

Thank you for all the unhinged support, the love, the reblogs, the tears, the keysmashes in the tags, and most of all, for believing in my little fics 🫶

To celebrate this milestone… 🎁 YOU get to decide what fic comes to life next.

I’m dropping several wild, angsty, horny, and emotionally devastating blurb ideas straight from my vault, and you, dear reader, will vote on which one gets written into a full fic. 🗳️🔥

(P.S. My minds a wild little place, there is a reason those ideas were scraped, LMAO.)

✨ The poll will go up today. ✨ Voting ends in a week. ✨ Chaos is not only allowed, it's highly encouraged.

Here’s to more squid tears, more horny delusions, and soft aftercare with enha. Anchors up, besties. Let’s go make it to 200.

🖋️ From your local fic captain, — swiftjay23

[swiftjay23]

Ignite

Before the flame, there was silence, not peace, but pause. A breath before the burn. A hush before the howl.

They told me to be patient. To wait for the match. But I was never made to wait. I am the match. I am the spark they forgot to fear.

Light doesn't ask permission. It just is. So be it, the flare in the fog, the blaze in the bones, the reason the shadows flinch.

Let them call it too much. Let them call it madness. Let them call it anything but extinguished.

Because I? I was born in the marrow of stars. I do not flicker. I consume. I ignite.

For the beautiful prompt by @picklemafia and @faemaril

[swiftjay23]

一═︻ ѕαу му ηαмє, ѕωєєтнєαят ︻═一

★⌗ 이희승 ⌗★

─────𝐸𝑁𝐻𝑌𝑃𝐸𝑁

✩ ここが家です ✩

❝тяєαт мє ℓιкє α qυєєη, ησω уσυ gσт мє ƒєєℓιη' тняσωη, σн❞

Pairing: Lee Heeseung x Reader (fem!reader, implied) Content Tags: comfort sex · established relationship · possessive Heeseung · crying during sex · reader gets hurt emotionally · hurt/comfort · soft dom!heeseung · praise kink · emotional sex · rough but reverent · oral fixation (kissing/marking) · aftercare · one-shot · reader insecurity · heeseung worships reader · healing through touch · safe space · unfiltered intimacy Warnings: explicit sexual content (18+) · emotional distress · possessive language · intense emotional vulnerability · references to toxic friendships/social exclusion · crying during sex · mentions of reader crying pre-scene · slight degradation of off-screen characters · overstimulation · power imbalance (consensual) · aftercare Summary: When your friends turn cold and the world starts to feel a little too loud, you do what you always do, pretend it’s fine. Smile, nod, brush it off. But Heeseung knows better. One look at you and he sees the cracks forming. And he doesn’t let it slide. He pulls you in, soft, then firm. Reverent, then raw. This isn’t just sex. It’s a reclamation. A reminder. A promise. They don’t deserve you, he says. But I’ll show you who does. Genre: Angst · Smut · Hurt/Comfort · Emotional Porn (like, genuinely) · Soft Dom x Shattered Girlcore Word Count: 1155

It starts slow. You’re pacing, head full of whispers, fake smiles, cold shoulders. Your pulse is a mess, but you’re pretending everything’s fine. 

You don’t cry in front of people. Not when it’s something like this, petty, quiet, sharp in all the wrong places. But it must show anyway, because when you walk into Heeseung’s room, backpack slung low, lip caught between your teeth, eyes a little too far away, he sees it.

He always sees it. "Baby?" Just one word, soft and concerned, but it lands like a punch to your chest. You force a smile. Shake your head. “It’s nothing, really.”

"Talk to me." You shake your head. Shrug. Something bitter sticks to your teeth. "It’s stupid."

But Heeseung doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. He just watches you with that impossible tenderness, jaw ticking, like he's debating whether to pull you into his arms or burn the world down on your behalf.

"Who was it?" he asks quietly. You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Because he already knows.

You look away, and that’s what breaks him. In three slow steps, he closes the space between you, warm palms finding your waist, pulling you in. You melt instinctively, burying your face in his hoodie, breathing him in like safety. Like home.

"They don’t deserve you." His voice is rough, teeth grit. “None of them do.” And then he pulls back. Eyes dark. Hungry. "Take your clothes off." You blink. “Hee—” "Now."

There’s no anger in his voice. Just want. Thick. Unbearable. Possessive.

You swallow hard. Pulse fluttering. And then you obey.

Your shirt hits the floor. Then your bra. Your skirt and panties follow, until you’re completely bare in the soft lamplight, skin warm under his gaze. Heeseung shrugs out of his hoodie and shirt in one go, then unbuckles his belt, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the tension in the air. His eyes don’t leave you once.

And when he finally steps forward again, it’s not with gentle hands.

It’s with need.

His eyes rake over you like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your pain, and then overwrite it. And then he kisses you. Not soft. Not gentle. Like he’s trying to pull the ache out of your chest with his mouth. He kisses you like he’s starving. Tongue sliding into your mouth, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other groping your ass like he’s claiming every inch. You moan, helpless, desperate, and he swallows it like it’s his fucking lifeline. Slow. Searing. Full-body devotion. He walks you backward, one hand behind your neck, the other sliding down your spine, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

And then, he flips you. Bends you over the mattress with terrifying gentleness, fingers trailing down your back like he’s soothing fire beneath your skin.

“You think I’m gonna let them make you cry?” he growls into your mouth. “You think I’m gonna let you walk around acting like you’re not the most wanted thing in the world?”

 His palm slides down your spine, slow and reverent, and then he spreads you open. You gasp, flushed, dripping, exposed, and he groans like it’s physically painful to see you like this.

“Fucking wet already?” Heeseung hisses. He kneels behind you. Licks a hot stripe up your slit. “God, baby. Look at you. Bet they wouldn’t believe it if they saw you like this. So needy. So fucking perfect.” You cry out when his tongue flicks over your clit, light, teasing. Then again. Then again. 

"Look at you," he murmurs. "They could never touch you like I do. Never love you like this." 

And just when you’re about to beg for more, he stands up and presses the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

“I should make you beg,” he says, dragging it through your folds. “Make you tell me who said what. But I don’t think you need punishment tonight, baby. You need to be worshipped.” You gasp when he slides in, deep, thick, slow enough to make you ache. He holds you there, hips flush to your ass, arms wrapped around your middle like he’s anchoring you to the earth. Your fingers claw at the sheets. He’s thick. Heavy. Stretching you wide. And he doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, hips flush to your ass, breath ragged against your shoulder.

"You feel that?" he breathes against your neck. "That’s how much I want you. Every second. Even when you’re not looking at me."

He moves with purpose. Long, unrelenting strokes that hit every sweet spot inside you. One hand cradles your jaw, tilting your face so he can kiss your cheek, your temple, the tears you didn’t know had started falling.

"I’ll make you forget them." Thrust. "I’ll remind you who you are." Thrust. "Mine."

And you are. Shaking, moaning, clawing at the sheets as he drives every sharp-edged thought out of your head and replaces it with him. His voice is in your ear, low and ruined: “I’ll never let them hurt you again. I’ll give you everything. I’ll worship you, on your knees, in my arms, however you want.”

"Say my name," he pants. "Let them hear who you really belong to."

You can’t breathe. Can’t think. His cock keeps hitting that perfect spot inside you, over and over, and his other hand snakes between your thighs, fingers circling your clit in time with his thrusts. It’s slow. Measured. But the way he fucks you, full, deep, unrelenting, it’s like he’s branding himself into your body.

"Say my name," he murmurs, tongue dragging over your skin. “Let them hear who you belong to.”

“Heeseung,” you sob. “Heeseung, please—”

“That’s it,” he groans. “That’s my good girl. Loud for me. So fucking pretty when you fall apart.”

You shatter.

Back arching. Vision white. Crying out his name as your orgasm slams into you, wave after wave after wave. Your legs shake. Your breath catches. And he fucks you through every second of it, growling low in your ear until he’s right behind you.

“Gonna fill you up,” he pants. “Gonna fuck you full so you never forget who you belong to—”

Heeseung comes with a broken moan, hips jerking, cock twitching as he spills inside you—hot, thick, deep.

He stays buried in you, one hand pressed over your belly like he wants to keep his cum inside. You’re both breathless. Sweaty. Clinging to each other like the world outside doesn’t exist.

And then he’s wrapping you in his arms. Kissing your hair. Holding you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the earth.

Heeseung kisses your hair. Rubs slow circles into your back. Keeps you tethered to him, chest to chest, heart to heart.

"They don’t get to have you," he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. "Only I do. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never forget it."

THE END.

masterlist

⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands,⟡ @yuriloveshee,  ⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @add-this-to-that,  ⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie,  ⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk  ⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful,  ⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw,  ⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy,  ⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001  ⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq,

✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧

⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar,  ⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3,  ⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee,  ⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry,  ⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard,  ⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation,  ⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito,  ⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj,  ⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi,  ⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo,  ⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz,  ⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies

[swiftjay23]

Heyy!!!! I was the anon who sent the dragon ni-ki x reader recommendation (also the one who sent VIP Jungwon x reader fic recom.), I am so happy you like the idea, it just came in my mind so randomly and the fic was soooo goooddd..... you are so good at writing... patiently waiting for your upcoming works 💗✨

HI ANON. YOU FUCKING POPPED OFF SWEETIE 😭💘

First of all, thank you so much for both of those recs. Like… the Dragon!Ni-ki idea has quite literally consumed my soul. I’ve been pacing like a medieval maiden with a quill and a death wish, just thinking about how his claws would curl around her waist like she’s his most precious hoard. And don’t even get me started on VIP Jungwon, that man is absolutely the type to bid on you just to watch others lose.

Your mind??? YOUR MIND???

Seriously though, your asks never feel random, they feel divinely timed, like you’re feeding my writer brain EXACTLY what it’s hungry for. I’m so glad the dragon fic lived up to your vision!! I’m working on more for both concepts, so sit tight and get ready for more insanity, angst, and unholy tension 💅🔥

Thank you for being here, for trusting me with your brainworms, and for hyping me up so kindly 🥹 You’re unreal.

Love u always 🖤

Also is you rosepetals09??

[swiftjay23]

hiii, I really liked how you wrote Take Care of Her! 💘 could you plz do a very similar oneshot for Nam-gyu x fem reader? you could it tweak it a bit however you'd like, but stays sad ending and nam-gyu is def not the baby's daddy.

hi love!! thank you so much for reading Take Care of Her 🥺💘 I'm so glad it resonated, my chest still aches thinking about that fic fr. Since you want something similar but for Nam-gyu x fem!reader, sad ending locked in, and he is not the baby’s father (chef’s kiss to that twist, btw)… here's a oneshot tailored to your request.

Title: Where It’s Warm

Pairing: Nam-gyu (Player 124) x Fem!Reader Genre: Angst, Tragedy, Canon Divergence Content Tags: squid game canon timeline, broken past relationship, found family, mother/father themes, unspoken love, regret, character death, emotional devastation

You go into labor during the last 10 minutes.

It’s the middle of the round. Your stomach has dropped, back cramping and sweat cold on your spine “Calm down, you’ll be fine,” she mutters quickly, eyes scanning your face, your belly, your shaking knees. “Just breathe. Don’t let anyone hear yet. We’ll get Hyun-ju. She used to work in a hospital.”

It’s labor. “Fuck,” you gasp, doubling over, one hand gripping the side of the corridor. “No, no, no—” “Hey! Hey, what—what’s going on?” It’s Geum-ja. Her voice is sharp, panicked. Hyun-ju’s beside her in an instant. Her eyes widen. “Oh god, she’s, she’s having it now. The baby.”

Another contraction rips through you, and your knees buckle. There’s no time to think. No hospital bed. No sterile gloves. Just three desperate women in a goddamn death maze. A few minutes later, you’re on the floor, blood pooling beneath your thighs, knees raw, sweat dripping down your face.

“Push again,” Hyun-ju breathes. “You can do this.” You scream, louder than the sirens, louder than the countdown. You scream like someone who knows she might not survive this. And then, a cry. Tiny. Wet. Real. Geum-ja laughs through tears. “She’s here. She’s really—” Hyun-ju smiles, tears brimming in her eyes as she holds your daughter. You can’t speak, only watching them through the blur of pain. Your ankle throbs. Your body’s wrecked. You feel like you could do anything in the world, except survive for her.

Hyun-ju wipes her eyes and gets up. “I’m going to go find the exit.” She squeezes your shoulder, hopeful. “We’re getting out of here.” She shuts the door behind her. Outside, there's yelling, then silence. But you don’t care. Not when your baby, impossibly small and impossibly real, is laid against your chest.

Geum-ja takes off her jacket and swaddles her gently. “She’s perfect,” she whispers. “You did good.”

You stroke her cheek, already crying again. You gave up everything—and somehow, you still have her. The door opens. Hyun-ju’s silhouette. Her smile wide. “I found the exit! It’s this way. We can all get ou—” But she doesn't finish. Her body jerks. Blood gushes from her neck. She collapses. Behind her, standing with a bloodied shard of metal and a twisted grin, Myung-gi.

You curl over your daughter, shielding her as best you can. Your ankle screams in pain. Myung-gi doesn’t speak. Just meets your eyes with a smirk, then shuts the door. A voice echoes behind him. “Yo! Anyone else back there?”

“No,” Myung-gi calls. “No one. Thought I saw something.” A cackle. Fading footsteps. Geum-ja closes Hyun-ju’s eyes and whispers, “Player 120, eliminated.” She helps you stand. You wince, baby still in your arms. You both hobble toward the exit. Three keys. One circle. One triangle. One square.

But standing in front of the door—knife in hand—is Yong-sik. “Ma,” he says, his voice cracked and wild. “I haven’t killed anyone yet. They’re gonna kill me if I don’t.” He stares at the baby. “Just… just one.” Nam-gyu doesn’t come near you the first day. You know he saw. You know he heard. The blood, the gasps, the baby’s first cry. Everyone in the dorms heard it, especially the men.

But he doesn’t say anything until the second morning. When your vision is blurry from lack of food and you can’t even sit up. He kneels beside your cot without looking at you. “Is she mine?” “No.” You say it fast. Final. Nam-gyu just nods. “Doesn’t matter.” You stare at the ceiling. “You weren’t supposed to be here.” “I came back.” “You left.” “I know.” Silence.

“She looks like you,” he says after a long time.

You want to tell him that she doesn’t. That she looks like her real father, the man who took your hand and kissed your stomach and promised he’d protect you and then disappeared three weeks before you were recruited. But your mouth is too dry, and your bones too hollow, and your baby is asleep against your chest.

So you close your eyes. Geum-ja helps you lie down. Cradles your baby like she’s hers. Teaches you to hold her, feed her, love her. She hums lullabies through silent tears. You wake in the morning to stillness. Your daughter sleeps against your chest. But Geum-ja is gone.

You look up. She’s hanging. From the top pole of her bunk. You don’t scream. You don’t move. You just hold your daughter closer. When the guards arrive, they lower her gently. Black silk. Pink ribbon. Peaceful face. She gave you everything. And asked for nothing in return. You limp toward the next game. Each step agony. Your baby presses into your chest, wrapped in the sling Geum-ja left behind.

—

You wobble on your broken ankle. You’re limping so hard you can barely see straight. The baby is wrapped tight to your chest, silent, sleeping. Gi-hun is holding your elbow, whispering something over and over, “just a little more, we’re almost there, you’re doing so well”—but the lights above the bridge are turning red, and time is running out.

“I can’t jump,” you whisper. “You have to.” “I’ll drop her.” “I’ll help you.” But before Gi-hun can grab the baby, Nam-gyu steps forward. “Let me.” You freeze. He’s already reaching out. Hands steady. Eyes steady. Everything about him suddenly steady in a way he never was before.

“She’s not yours,” you breathe. “I know.” “You left me.” “I know.” “She doesn’t even know your name.” He swallows. “But I’m here now.”

Gi-hun doesn’t say anything. He just looks away. You kiss her forehead. You press your lips to her cheek, her nose, her impossibly tiny fingers. You breathe her in, milk and sweat and life, and then you place her in Nam-gyu’s arms.

He holds her like she’s made of light. “Take care of her,” you whisper. Your voice cracks. “Better than you took care of me.”

—

Nam-gyu runs. You watch him leap across the last panel, knees buckling as he lands on the final platform. He nearly falls, but he doesn’t. He stays up. He looks back. The baby is still in his arms. And he holds her up so you can see. Your hands let go of the railing. And you fall.

—

They find your body curled like a question mark. One hand tucked toward your ribs. Nam-gyu doesn’t speak for an entire day. He just holds the baby. Wraps her in Geum-ja’s coat. Watches the guards carry your body away.

Gi-hun watches too. “You’re not her dad,” Gi-hun says quietly. “I know.” “But you’re all she has left.” Nam-gyu looks down at her. She’s so small. Her eyes are closed. Her mouth twitches in her sleep.

“I didn’t deserve her mother,” he says. “But maybe I can deserve her.” He doesn’t cry. He just turns away. And walks forward. Nam-gyu runs. Stumbles. Nearly falls. But never lets her go. He reaches the final platform. And turns. Lifting your daughter high—not like a prize. Like a promise.

You smile. Then the countdown ticks louder. The bridge is collapsing behind you. You whisper one last thing— “Take care of her.” And then you jump. Not falling. Letting go.

THE END.

⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands,⟡ @yuriloveshee,  ⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @add-this-to-that,  ⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie,  ⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk  ⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful,  ⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw,  ⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy,  ⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001  ⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq,

✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧

⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar,  ⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3,  ⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee,  ⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry,  ⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard,  ⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation,  ⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito,  ⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj,  ⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi,  ⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo,  ⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz,  ⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies