wonallofme

[wonallofme]

untitled. ♡ [18+ mdni] pt. 2 to this.

jay x fem!reader | wc: 1.1k | cw: dubcon, coercion, facefucking, rough jay, inexperienced!reader, lots of ‘good girl’, pussy sniffing idek, brief mention of feeling nauseous.

‘alright, just like that. relax your jaw.’ jay instructs, cupping your chin in one hand while the other fumbles with his belt. you’re knelt in front of him while he leans back against the couch, seated with his thighs parted to accommodate your presence between them. his thumb strokes along the curve of your jawline, settling on your lower lip and applying gentle pressure. you instinctively open your mouth for him, your cheeks flushing with colour as you peer up at him through your lashes.

you weren’t going to come back to see jay again after your initial meeting but when you failed to hear back from other places you’d applied for, your desperation grew. your friends want to go to a music festival the second week of august and you don’t have a single cent saved. you know if you don’t start working soon you’re not going to be able to go and the thought alone makes you feel sick to your stomach.

you’d received a few texts from jay since your ‘interview’. one merely following up and another that was sent after midnight and was little more ‘descriptive’. you’d ignored both. you’d be lying though if you said you hadn’t thought about him since. there was something incredibly thrilling about receiving his attention like that. you’ve been out to the club with your friends, but you don’t get hit on, barely receiving a second glance from most of the guys you interact with. yet, jay was all over you from the moment you walked in. it was intoxicating. it’s getting to your head.

so, here you are on your knees for him in his living room again getting a lesson in ‘giving head’. your eyes widen as he frees his semi-erect cock from his boxers, grasping the shaft in one hand as he maintains his hold on your face.

‘don’t look so scared,’ he chuckles. ‘though i can’t say it doesn’t boost my ego.’ he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip again as he gives himself a few slow, intentional strokes. ‘you’re cute, but trust me. you can handle it.’

you aren’t so sure, the aroma of his musky arousal filling your nostrils as he brings the broad head of his dick to your mouth. when you don’t immediately open again, he pushes his tip more insistently at your lips, earning a whine from you.

‘open.’ he commands, clearly unamused by your hesitation. he uses thumb to pull your lower lip down, guiding his cock into your mouth until you realize you have no choice but to take it. the taste on your tongue is strange but not entirely unpleasant, salty and tangy. the first inch or two are manageable, slacking your jaw as jay gives you a moment to adjust to the sensation of having his thick cock sitting on your tongue.

‘doing great.’ he says, his shaft twitching as he speaks. ‘ready for more.’ you think it’s a question at first, unsure how you’re going to respond with him in your mouth but it wasn’t. his hand comes to rest on the back of your head, making sure you’re unable to pull away as he feeds you more of himself. you can’t help but gag as his tip brushes the back of your throat, but he keeps pushing, making your eyes water as you choke.

‘fuck,’ he groans, your throat constricting around his cock. you can practically feel him pulsing within your mouth, your vision blurred by the involuntary tears welling at your lashline. you gag again, but he keeps you in place with his hand.

‘f-fuck, breathe through your nose.’ he demands, but you don’t know what he means. you’re gagging, stomach clenching and you feel a wave of nausea wash over you.

‘i said, breathe through your fucking nose.’ he hisses. you have no choice at this point, your body taking over and making you inhale sharply through your nostrils so you don’t pass out. a couple tears escape, dribbling down your cheeks. the discomfort remains but at least you got a breath in.

‘good girl. you got this.’

you whimper around his cock as he slowly begins to rock his hips towards your face. it’s gradual but steady, the way he thrusts into your warm mouth, gliding his thick shaft along your wet tongue. every time his tip brushes the back of your throat, you gag. you begin to drool a little, some saliva escaping out the corner of your lips as he keeps fucking your throat at a relatively calm pace.

‘it’s usually best if you swallow.’ jay advises after a minute, his fingers tangled in your hair now as he pulls lightly each time he guides your head back towards his pelvis. as he thrusts into your throat especially deep, your nose grazes his mons, the stubble present scratching you. ‘i’m gonna move a little faster, okay.’ again, its not a question he’s waiting for you to answer.

you can’t see through your tears as he starts fucking your face more intensely, your chest getting tight as you struggle to breathe. you just let it happen, trying to keep your throat as relaxed as possible. just as it becomes too much, your hands pushing at his knees, trying to pull away from him at any cost, you feel a warm liquid filling your throat. you choke again, jay holding you to his pelvis as he shoots his load into your stomach.

‘swallow.’

you gulp thickly, grimacing at the flavour of his cum. it’s not as bad as you would’ve expected, but there’s something about the texture… how it can be both thick and watery at the same time. once he’s emptied his balls, he tugs your head back to pull you off his cock. you gasp for air, moaning as you try to catch your breath. your cheeks are stained with your tears, skin slightly blotched from the force of your gagging. you look up at him, feeling the cold wetness of your spit coating your chin and the warmth of his release still lingering on your tongue.

he smiles down at you. ‘you did great.’ he says, using his palm to wipe himself off before tucking his dick back into his pants. ‘you definitely need some practice but for your first time, you exceeded my expectations.’

you just sit there, not really sure what to respond with. you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. jay scoots to the edge of the couch before leaning down, his hand grabbing your sex and throwing you off guard. before you can protest, he’s slipping his hand into your pants and pressing his fingers against the seam of your panties.

‘good girl, you’re wet.’ he praises huskily. he draws back, bringing his digits to his nose and taking a sniff. you stare at him blankly.

‘we’ll work on that more next time.’

[wonallofme]

Rabid

Pairings: Geum Seongje x Fem!Reader

Summary: You've figured if you paid him, then your debts would be settled and maybe... just maybe he'd let you go

Warnings: Language, Dom!Seongje, Gangsterism, Bullied!Reader, Angst, Neglect, Coercion, Bullying, Extortion, Absent Parents, Violence, Smut +18 (mdni), Sadomasochism, Sadist!Seongje, Fingering, Dark fic, Dubious consent, Exhibitionism, Desperate Sex, Humiliation, Degradation

A/N: Comissioned by @tojii11 ... as always I'm not responsible for the media you consume.

Since you've known him as of late, lying has become almost as voluntary as breathing. It should scare you, how fluidly a lie slips past the confines of your lips. Making you more and unrecognizable to even your own self.

"I'm tutoring late tonight."

"I’m studying at the library,"

“I'm having dinner with a friend.”

You didn't have many of those. Had your parents been the caring type they might have known that friends were a luxury you could not afford.

Still, it bothered you that you were making excuses for him. You were helping yourself get extorted everytime you stole for him and everytime you didn't let a living soul know.

The first few times were as difficult as it ever got. But the more you were forced to work for him, the more he corrupted you-the more that infection spread until it became all you were.

"What do you need that much money for anyway?" You squeeze your phone tighter with one hand while the other sits in your blazer pocket. You maintain a calm, controlled gait as you walk out of the school gates, surrounded by your peers dressed in the same uniform walking in clumps of groups- little ecosystems that they formed to help manage their anxieties. You wish you had their problems: Boys. Makeup. Parties.

You wish you had your own little ecosystem. A group who'd be more concerned with strengthening your mental health, not deteriorating it.

"You think school trips to Bali are gonna be cheap?" It was always easier to lie to her over the phone or through text. There was something biting in your mother's eyes that you couldn't always face. Something that would eat you alive if she found out you've been working for the kind of people you're working for.

"Backtrack on the attitude," her words snipe you through the receiver like barbed wire, "It's just strange that they're organizing a field trip in the height of your assignments like this..."

"It's an incentive I guess. They're telling us about it now for extra motivation to see this exam season through.." lies lies and more lies. Your mouth is full of them.

"I don't know if I want you to be thinking about a trip to Bali during all this work... have you been improving?"

There was no improvement with her. Only perfection. She tried your whole life to wipe you squeaky clean until you were spotless. If only she knew that over the past year you've acquired a spot almost impossible to scrub away. He's irremovable. Or at least you thought he was...

"When did you say your field trip was? Perhaps your father and I will tag along, make a family vacation out of it. We never see you anymore because you're always studying and Bali is lovely all-year round-" while your mother talks, your heart sinks and panic festers. You try to focus your steps on making it across the road, down a path you've walked all year.

"Mom, please don't be embarrassing."

"How am I being embarrassing?"

"You'll be the only parent there." Above you, the afternoon sun sits snugly against the horizon, guiding you down a decrepit lane. Stray cats and empty soju bottles litter the street the farther you walk from the safety of the school grounds. You're getting closer and you needed her to send the money.

"It's my money. I can do with it as I please."

You scramble your brain, searching furiously for a lifeline.

"It's just..." More and more lies, "This trip is actually just Geo-camp. Our teachers planned a few cave explorations. We're gonna check out the different stalactites and stalagmites-your presence might hinder my concentration-"

In the distance, the warehouse looms and your fist in your blazer pocket begins to coil.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place instead of wasting my time?” Your mother tsks, “I've sent the money to your account."

"Thank you ma'am..."

The call ends abruptly, void of any warmth. Void of any love. You pull your phone away from your ear and your nerves settle as you see the money reflecting. You suddenly feel bigger than this warehouse- bigger than life itself- like you're armed and ready to take on anything this rabid dog might throw at you.

You tilt your head back to watch the clouds disappear behind the iron roof and you steal your nerves. Word on the street is that this place once belonged to Baek Jin before his untimely disappearance. Until, naturally, a wolf came in and marked it as his own...

The nearer you get to the slightly opened door, the clearer the sound becomes: You hear the sound of a broken man groaning and your body has a visceral reaction. By now you recognize the sound of a fist slamming against human flesh and bone. You know what that sounds like and it haunts you through those quiet moments at night when it was just you and your memories. You fight the urge to stop walking, something in you tugging and begging to just walk away. It's either this or remain a slave for the rest of your foreseeable future.

That thought is enough to have you sucking in one final breath of air before waltzing into the warehouse. It's dark, the air damp and stuffy with little to no circulation. Despite the location, the interior is somewhat tidy and were it not for the man kneeling and bleeding on the floor, you might have thought the place fitting for any dignified bachelor.

“I didn't expect to see you today,” Seongje addresses you the moment you step in. His fist is paused in mid air and it's pulled back as if you'd just saved the man on the floor from experiencing one final blow.

He smiles at you, as if he didn't have blood on his knuckles. As if he didn't have a man on his knees, pleading for his life. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Seongje asks, before digging his fingers into the boys scalp. You hide your trembling hands in the pockets of your blazer and you appear as unaffected as you possibly can when Seongje tilts the man's face to look up at you. “This is Eungmin. He's very cute, very small.” Seongje smiles. “Eungmin is getting beat unconscious because he's been stealing some of my money for himself, isn't that right, Eungmin-a?”

The man’s left ise completely disappeared under a swollen mass of flesh. His skin is broken in several places- all is red and yet he still tries… “P-please-” his words are slurred. You can tell he's getting closer and closer to blacking out. His brain can't comprehend the words leaving his mouth and it's far too painful to watch. “My grandfather's sick and- I needed the money-”

“Sob, sob, sob, stories, Eungmin-a,” Seongje lets go of the man's head before tucking his hands into his pockets. Eungmin sways from side to side as Seongje rounds his bruised and battered body, tsking lightly like a scolding parent.

Before you're made witness to any more bloodshed, possibly even a murder, you grab your phone out of blazer pocket and with trembling hands you press a few buttons on your screen.

Seongje's phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pockets. He taps away at the device with bloodied fingers, his orange windbreaker stained with the same blood and for a moment, all is quiet.

Seongje stares blankly at his screen.

“What's this?” He asks without looking up.

Something in you tells you that you have the upper hand. Power has shifted, even minutely and it gives you the courage to reply back, “It's an incentive.”

Seongje's dark eyes finally flit up to you and you're arrested by that wolfish grin. “Big words.” He smirks. “You want a promotion or something?”

You ready your voice. “Actually, Seongje, I’m looking for a way out.”

More silence but this time, it's fucking suffocating. Even the man on the floor, the man who's experienced the very worst of Seongje's wrath has his mouth slightly open from shock.

“I never want to steal for you again. I never want to do anything for you again.” You find your voice in the rubble of your pain and all your anxieties that have gone unnoticed by the adults around you. “I never wanna see you again.”

He nods slowly. “I hear you.” Seongje's voice is calm. So calm it births a sliver of hope inside you: Maybe he'll just accept the money and you might actually be free. You could go back to being a girl forgotten by the rest of the world but this time, it'd be on your own terms. You'd love to be invisible again. Invisible girls don't get extorted like this.

“It's just… I'm really sensitive-”

The very moment those words leave his mouth, the moment a glimmer of a smile flits onto your lips, Seongje delivers a bone-cracking punch to the man's jaw.

You gasp and cup your mouth with both hands. Shocked.

The man slumps over, face hitting the floor. Knocked out cold.

“This is interesting.” Seongje says but you can't look away at the man laying on the ground. His body twitches periodically until there's barely any movement at all. Were you looking at someone passed out or were you staring at a corpse?

Soengje doesn't care about either outcome because he's already lighting a cigarette, standing as if pondering something else entirely.

“Where'd you get this money from?”

“D-Does-” you swallow thickly, “-it matter?”

He nods his head slightly before sticking the cigarette on the tip of his lips, “I could buy a million cig packs with this. The good kind too,” he chuckles, “Fuck, I could buy a fucking factory-”

“It's not that much-”

“Are you rich?” He asks suddenly, ramping up your nerves as he tucks his hands in his pockets to stalk closer towards you. “Have I been extorting a princess this whole time and I didn't know it?” You make your body an iron rod- your face cold. Something like him can't sense discomfort or he'll play with it.

“Not rich,” you say, “Just desperate…”

His feet stop directly in front of you and you keep your gaze there. Not daring to look up at him until he brings his own index finger under your chin, tilting it up.

“I like that word… Desperate.” He blows out a plume of smoke but not in your face. The small, gentlemanly act is almost laughable.

“Seongje, at this rate I'll be working for you for the rest of my life-”

“The rest of your life…” he nods slowly, looking away in a pensive manner before looking back at you, “That sounds fun, doesn't it?”

“Seongje- please just accept the money…”

“Are you calling me poor?”

“That's not what I'm saying at all and honestly, I feel like you know that's not what I'm saying-” your brows are furrowed, voice rising.

“So I'm delusional then?” He asks with a smile.

“Why do you get off on making yourself a victi-” his hand contracts around your throat and it tightens.

“Lemme stop you from saying what you wanna say because you really won't like the outcome.”

He squeezes one more time in warning before letting you go

“Why would I let you go? You're so perfect for me. We work well together.”

“Seongje, Please-”

“Shh… shh… shh…” he lets the cigarette hang off the side of his mouth before cupping both of your cheeks with both hands. He pushes back a stray braid and you tremble under the weight of not only his hands, but his gaze. His eyes are two endlessly cold voids. You don't wonder what's behind those eyes because you bet there's nothing there.

So focused, you've become, with Seongje's eyes, you barely notice his hand slithering down your neck. He feels you, touches you like he's just discovered something new…

“You've just made me more money than any of these useless scumbags ever have…” He stands closer and you watch as he opens his mouth to let the cigarette fall to the floor. You hear his foot stomp on it but your eyes are hazy with tears.

“I pride myself on being a good businessman… Letting you go?” He tsks, “That's not very good business.”

“Please, Seongje-”

“I do believe in rewards though so…” he lets his hand roam lower and lower. On its way down, he squeezes you tit through your shirt, causing a small gasp to slip through.

“Is it okay?” He asks in a low voice, “That im touching you like this?”

He waits patiently for a response that never comes. Truth is, you're completely and utterly overwhelmed. Caught in a web of feeling good and fucking terrible.

A tear falls.

“Shh,” he pats down your hair while all too slyly inching his hand up your skirt. “Seongje will make you feel better-”

You could tell him to stop, but your mind is clouded with all sorts of contradictions. You can't lie some more and say you don't find him even a little bit attractive. Isn't it fucking terrible how that works? This man has tormented you and yet-

“You're so wet, Princess,” you open your legs wider, only flinching when his fingers rub against your clothed cunt. You don't have the energy to look up at him, but you notice the visceral reaction his body is having from all this.

Over his shoulder, you notice the bloodied man unconscious on the floor.

“You just became wetter-” he whispers into your ear before cursing ever so lightly as his finger pushes aside your panties. You notice his movements becoming less controlled, far more hungry and you begin to pull away.

“Say it.” He urges, before fisting your neck in one tight grip. “I need you to say it.”

In a moment that feels unreal, Seongje pushes you backwards, forcing your feet into motion until he has you firmly pressed against a wall. “Say we work well together- tell me-”

You can't very well say much of anything because he's already sinking his index and middle finger into your cunt. Your mouth flies open and you're caught in a silent cry.

“Fuck- Look at how well we work together…” he says, bringing his fingers up to the light. He watches your slick coat, his fingers and something in you coils with disgust and immense pleasure.

His eyes immediately snap to you the second a small moan croaks out.

“F-Fuck-” you gulp in all the air you possibly can when his grip around your throat loosens. There's absolutely no space between you as he crowds you against the wall, staring down at you with the bad fluorescents reflecting against his glasses.

“You don't get to do that… You don't quit on me. I quit on you.” He's forcing his hand between your legs, this time he fucks you properly. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and a tear falls.

“Say sorry.” He taunts with another manic smile flitting across his face, “I want you to take my fingers and tell me how sorry you are-”

“F-Fuck Seongje-” your hips snap awards and you stare up at him with watery eyes- watery eyes that havr his cocktail straining against his pants. He brings you in close by the nape of your neck while he forces you down until your clit meets the palm of his hand.

“You keep looking at me like that and I'm gonna cum. And I hate cumming first.”

“Shit…” your eyes roll to the back of your head as you force yourself to grind down on his fingers. His hand around your throat is the only thing keeping you somewhat upright. You've slipped into that mental soace where you'll embarrass yourself to achieve orgasm. You needed this.

And him.

“What a greedy slut, huh? Tell me you're done with me. I want you to say it again-”

You can't say much of anything because you grab ahold of his wrist, keeping his fingers inside you as your orgasm crests and breaks.

You're screaming wildly, devoid of all rational thought, unprepared by the fact that a bleeding man still lays forgotten on the cold floor. All you feel is him. Jts all him and its suffocating.

You've quite literally found yourself in the clutches of a sadist and he's guiding You gently through your orgasm… patting your head down lightly like you were a delicate baby bird.

"Why would I ever let you go?"

[wonallofme]

Boa

Pairings: Geum Seongje x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're just a kid, caught in a gangster’s crosshairs. What happens when you don’t deliver like you should…

Warnings: Language, Dom!Seongje, Gangsterism, Bullied!Reader, Coercion, Bullying, Extortion, Mentions of Rape, Smut +18 (mdni), Dark fic, Dubious consent, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Desperate Sex, Humiliation, Degradation

A/N: I'm not responsible for the media you consume. I wrote this for me so...

Ever since you've started working for him, you've learned to get extremely acquainted with the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sir…” your voice is brittle as you try to make yourself heard in the suffocating internet cafe, “I'm short on delivery today..."

Hardwood. Tile. Linoleum. It's become all too familiar to you. The floor is all you see in his presence.

You never looked Seongje in the eyes unless he addresses you first. He likes that, you suspect.

It's kept you alive this long so you must be doing something right.

"I got assigned a kid to tutor and..." you clear your throat, not daring to make direct eye contact, choosing instead, to keep your eyes trained on the dirty, cold floor.

The internet cafe is the very last place you'd want to be on a Friday evening. You were caught right in between two challenging essay due dates- one for English and one for AP English. Both hung gravley over your head, threatening to set off your sympathetic nervous system and have you fainting from academic stress. Seeing him was the very last thing you needed.

"That tutoring time fucked with my system and-" despite all your achievements, despite the academic prestige and the boundless knowledge… in Seongje's presence you feel insignificant.

A bug he's letting scurry around for no other reason except his enjoyment. You didn't want to get stomped on. You saw what happened to the other kids under his thumb and it kept you up at night. All that blood. All the merciless sadism.

You aren't dumb enough to hope an exception would be made for you.

"I'm sorry,” you conclude, and for a second, you get no response. He plays his game. His friends remain silent.

That's all until he pushes the bridge of his glasses up further against his nose. A calm, quiet sigh leaves his lips.

“Before you started working for me, do you know what you were?" Seongje doesn't take his eyes off the screen. His fingers run deftly over the keys as he speaks to you without ever really acknowledging you, "You were in an alleyway, about to get raped by Eunjang scum."

"Yes, Seongje, I know-"

"And in return for my kindness, what did I ask of you?"

"FUCK- COVER ME BRO!" Your eye snaps up to the source of the loud and sudden burst of energy. Your frightened and pitiful eyes find a boy seated adjacent to Seongje and his goons. He's bent over his screen, clearly not a part of the group. Clearly far too young.

Your heart sinks when you realize Seongje's eyes are trained on the boy too.

"Ya…” Seongje raises his voice a decimal above the cacophony yet it has you flinching. “Too loud,” he says to the boy, “Didn’t anyone teach you shut up when adults are talking?” he asks monotonously to the boy- a child really- still mourning the loss of his avatar on the screen. He doesn't pay Seongje any mind.

Of course he doesn't. He's a kid.

How could he have known?

He came to an internet cafe to play a game with his friends.

It's the boy's innocence that hurts the most.

He doesn't know that the monsters under his bed are very real.

They walk where he walks.

They don't hide.

They move about freely.

Your heart makes like the titanic and sinks.

"Excuse me for a second." Seongje addresses you politely, finally giving you a fleeting glance before pushing himself out of his gamer chair. You see his entire row of friends (if that's what one could even refer to them as) remain unfazed as Seongje rounds the table to stand directly behind the young boy.

He’s bigger, far bigger as he pushes the rims of his glasses up, staring directly at you

"I know you're smart so you're probably aware that your fuck-up won't be tolerated-” he says to you, despite slithering his arm around the boys neck like a boa as he squeezes. Everyone keeps their eyes trained to their computers. Your fist curls at your side. You want to look away but you can't because you're speaking to Seongje. You wouldn't want to aggravate him further by showing him his mindlessly violence bothers you. So you try not to flinch.

You try not to let the casual violence scare you. How nonchalantly he speaks while an elementary school boy flails in his arms, begging to be released from the headlock making his lips turn blue

“You knew there'd be a punishment,” Seongje is still speaking to you. You hold your breathe in solidarity with the boy choking in his arms, “-for fucking up your delivery-” crimson blossoms onto the little boys face but Seongje keeps his eyes on you, appearing unfazed by the boy flailing like an animal in arms, "And yet you came anyway. That's the kinda work ethic, I like-” he smiles, “I like it alot-"

Eventually, after what feels like forever, he lets go of the boy. You finally breathe as well, watching as the kid slumps forward ingesting the air in horrid gasps.

Seongje bends forward, patting the boy on the back.

"No more interrupting when I speak, yeah?" Whether the boy was new to this particular internet cafe, it was unclear, but you hoped to whatever divine being that he wouldn't dare come back.

"So I'll let it slide-" He turns his attention back to you and you watch, still shaken up as Seongje leaves the little boy to make his way back to his side of the table. When he breezes past you he smells like nothing. Like his eyes, everything about him is empty.

"Thank you, Seongje-"

He nods before adding, "After you get on your knees." The goon sitting nearest to you, all the way at the end of the table, his fingers hover over the keys, and just like before, the room is rid of all air.

"Excuse me?”

He pulls out his chair for you, like some mimic of a perfect gentleman he opens his arm, gesturing you in.

"I want you on your knees, under the desk.” His words hang above you all. It has tears threatening to spill. Bile rising.

“What’s with the face? Its not like I’m asking you to suck my dick,”

"Seongje, I need to get home-"

"If you can't do it yourself I'm more than happy to help."

That has your legs moving into action. In your periphery, it feels as though everyone's watching you. A thing in psychology called the imaginary audience. When you're so self-conscious you concoct this idea of being the center of attention… only this time, it's real. You know they're all watching you. You know no one will do anything about it.

"Under the desk you go," he chuckles before sitting down and pushing his chair back in. You back away, creating intense distance between you. Your back hits dirty wires and your knees press hesitantly down onto the grime just to achieve a more comfortable position. Everything you see is his legs, his friends legs and you're suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to cry.

You want to scream at him to let you go. He's hijacked you from your endless pile of homework and yet the very thought of standing up for yourself causes a sea of nausea.

So you sit there in the dark, not knowing when this punishment would conclude. When would he let you go home? That sends you into another spiral. You've heard Seongje could game for 24 hours straight. Maybe more if he was in close vicinity to food and a bathroom. You knew this internet cafe would close eventually, that gives you the smallest sliver of hope and so you do your time.

Never once does he acknowledge you- the girl under his desk. Unbeknownst to Seongje, you catch one of his fellow gang members sneak multiple glances at you under the table. They all do. Like they enjoy seeing you under here. As time passes, and you slip further and further away from the stress, you realize that down here, on the floor, under his desk, the world is small. It's quite comforting actually and that wasn't the trauma talking.

You've always liked small spaces.

It definitely beat dealing with whatever he had going on up there half the time.

Slowly, your body begins to shut down. Your energy plummets from all the stress and all the thoughts. This is the first time you've been forced into a spot for too long doing nothing. No essays. No tutoring.

Due to tendencies from your childhood that you should've gotten rid of, you find yourself curling up against his leg. He stiffens and you snap out of the exhaustion long enough to reel back. Especially when you see his hand reach under the table. Your heart hammers in your chest, not a single word spoken as his hand searches for something. You move a bit closer until his hand catches on your hair. You wince as he drags you closer, pushing your head against his leg as you had done.

He leaves you there. You try to regulate your breathing as you feel him adjust in his seat above you.

You shift as well. Not your head. He clearly wants you there. But your legs are uncomfortable. You try to kneel and it's ridiculous because your head never leaves his leg.

No position seems comfortable enough until he stretches his leg out, right in between yours and you're made to straddle it. Above you, his fingers are still hitting the keys and you try to disassociate from the fact that his leg is pushing against your cunt. You try to sneak a peek at the surface, his glasses are trained on the screen. Not knowing whether it's your exhaustion making a reappearance but you could've sworn you hear the words, "good girl," release from him in a low drawl.

Something in his tone has you shifting over his leg. Your cunt warms against his leg and you fight the urge to buck against him. All you had to do was remember who it is that you're currently touching. That conscious reminder has you once again hellbent on doing your time with concrete resolve.

That resolve breaks.

It shatters when he eases his back against the chair, enough to once again slither his hand down towards you.

He curls his fist into your hair and tugs.

He pushes you down and lifts you up and you mindlessly follow his movements until you realize he's coaxed you into riding his leg.

He lets go of your hair, satisfied when your hips move out of their own accord.

You hate how good it feels to quite literally be beneath him. You look up and you whimper oh so quietly when you see that small smile play on his lips while his eye remains on the screen.

He's given you new instructions now and so you don't dare to stop moving your hips against him. Despite the damp spot forming on the seat of your underwear. You're not sure what it is that allows you to lose yourself so easily. Perhaps it's all the expectations that melt away when you're doing something so pitiful. You're breaking for him and he's letting you. You're not in control of anything and there's freedom in that.

“F-Fuck-” you didnt mean for the words to slip. There are still other people here but you also couldn't help the wave of pleasure that pushed up so suddenly. Your clit is moving against the fabric of his pants just right and your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head.

The second that whimper escapes your mouth, he stiffens again.

You watch as he leans back again, this time his hand isn't reaching out for you. It's to ghost over the bulge forming in his pants. Somehow that spurs you on more.

You grind against him desperately and before he can take his hand away, this time you reach up for him.

You watch him closely. The glare from the screen reflects on his glasses. His jaw, tight.

He controls the game easily with one hand, while you bring the other into your mouth.

You're not sure where this other side of you came from. This vixen who rolls her tongue out and forces his index and ring finger into her warm mouth.

He becomes more and more restless… His breath hitching. Seongje's fingers hit the keys more aggressively, while his right hand forces his fingers further down your throat. His hips buck upwards and you can see the damp spot forming where his cock is straining against his pants. He's about to cum in his pants and you're about to cum on his leg and it's far too much for you.

You know his friends are about. You try to preserve even a sliver of dignity but it all goes out the window.

“Fuck-” he spits out, slamming his fist on the table before abandoning the game. There's a fire in his eyes as he sits back to watch you peer up at him with complete and utter desperation.

“What a fucking slut-” he snarled, cleaely audible enough for not only him but his friends too. It has your mouth snapping open. Your back arches as you try to watch him watching you cum on his leg.

You've never held his attention for this long and it sends you off the edge.

“S-Seongje-” you barely squeak out as your cunt spasms against his leg. You rut uncontrollably, spurred on by the name That fell from your lips as if your body needed a reminder of just who it was making you cum. Your tormentor.

It has you seeing stars.

For all of 11 seconds.

Until it comes crashing down on you. Your pitiful act has you reeling. Mind spinning.

You don't want to look up at him but you have nowhere else to look. Your heart sinks when you see a smile form slowly across his lips… Somehow you knew you'd never be rid of him.

[wonallofme]

ꕥ GET YOURSELF A REAL MAN ⸝⸝⸝ smoking hot older!enhypen headcanons

⚠︎ smut. mdni. every party depicted in this work is an adult. this work contains age gaps (not specified, the members are just older.) power dynamics, step-cest, cheating. accurate warnings listed for each member

✷ NIA — if you feel like you've already read this, it's because you have! this is a repost from my previous acc that i decided to bring back here. i plan to turn each one into their own full-on drabbles, but in the meantime, have this :)

ꕥ LEE HEESEUNG

⚠︎ dad's bestie!hee, brief f!rec oral mention, dub-con

heeseung tried to stay away from you for so long, tried with all his might to resist you. you are just too young, and you’re his friends’ daughter. he knows it’s wrong but how can he help it when you’re so pretty? so gorgeous? and such a dirty little thing too, always trying to wordlessly seduce him. he notices how your lustful eyes follow him everywhere whenever he’s over at your parents house for dinner and you happen to be there too. he notices how you bite your lips raw and the way your thighs clench so hard under the table when he speaks to you. he notices how you always wear the most revealing outfits you can get away with for him, little shorts and tiny tops enhancing your curves so beautifully, an open invitation for him to completely ravage you. it makes him want to fucking ruin you.

that’s how he ends up sneaking in your room so late one night, after everyone already went to sleep, your parents so naive for offering him to stay the night too. your innocent sleeping form making his cock twitch in his pants as he thinks of all the dirty things he could do to you. the things he could make you do to him for being such a sly little slut.

he carefully slides in your bed, face hovering over your clothed cunt before lowering himself and pressing his tongue on it, spit smearing on those same shorts that make his mind go places it shouldn't. he works on your pussy just like that, fingers slipping past your shorts and inside your dripping hole, wet tongue sucking on your clit over the fabric but never actually touching you with it. he knows if he got a taste of your sweet little hole he would be a goner forever. he can tell you're awake by then, just pretending to sleep as your hips start to ride his digits and needy mewls leave your lips oh so sweetly. ones he will have to silence with his thick cock inside your mouth if you don’t stop it, “can’t have your parents find you’re such a whore for me… what would they think, angel?”

ꕥ PARK JONGSEONG

⚠︎ step-dad!jay, step-cest, ddlg, infidelity, big cock jay, breeding kink, p in v

step-dad jay who has had a soft spot for you ever since he started dating your mom... to the oblivious eye merely a healthy stepdad-daughter relationship, but anyone paying attention more closely would find just how weirdly close you two are. always spending way too much time together, always making up some excuse to leave gatherings together, jay always so protective of you and straight up mean to any boyfriend you bring home for him to meet. he always says it’s because he just wants the best for you, sweet thing. only he knows that what he means by best, is himself.

“always bringing home these boys, never a worthy man,” he whispers against your mouth, spit dripping everywhere, as his warm hands encourage you to keep bouncing up and down his veiny length, salty tears still drying on your face from the pain of the stretch his unusually big cock always provides you. no matter how many times he makes you take it all, the first minutes are never easy. always slow, always filled with him whispering reassurance when you say you just can't take it. “what is daddy gonna have to do to make you understand you just deserve better?” he mouths at your neck, low groans in response to your pink manicured nails grabbing his slowly graying hair, sending heat straight to your core. he licks a stripe up your sensitive skin, relishing in the way your cunt that's already so stretched out and tight against him flutters at his words, trying to suck him in even more. “does daddy have to put a baby inside you, sweet thing mhh?”

you shake your head vehemently, the thought of your mom finding out what you’re doing with her husband making guilt knot in the pit of your stomach. he lands a few harsh slaps on your clit that have you yelping in his hold, clearly dissatisfied with your reaction. “you will take anything i give you,” he says in your ear, his firm tone leaving no room to talk back. he picks up his pace, quite literally hammering into your cunt as he holds you down by your waist with his strong hands. “daddy always knows best, pretty girl.”

ꕥ SIM JAEYUN

⚠︎ boyfriend's dad!jake, cheating, sir kink, brief fingering

jake who hates to see a pretty girl like you in tears over scummy little boys. especially when the boy in question is his own idiot son. he couldn't understand how he even got such a gem as yourself to waste time with him, a liar and a cheater. jake knows his son better than anyone else. so finding out he was cheating on you and creating a fake instagram account to anonymously send you all the proof and the screenshots he collected was easy. it’s also easy to welcome you inside his home when you go there to confront your boyfriend, and sweetly comfort you when you find out he’s not there. jake’s rough and warm hands are so soft on your thighs, thick thumb swiping over the flesh so carefully, as if you might break any second. his tone is so smooth and buttery as he whispers soothing words in the crown of your hair. how you deserve so much better and how you’re a strong girl, you will be okay precious. his presence is so strong and he radiates such a manly energy, so different from that of your boyfriend, it makes you feel all fuzzy inside. jake notices how you clench your thighs right away, how your breathing becomes labored under his soft touches and affection. “i’m sorry for being such a mess right now, sir,” you sheepishly say, and his cock jumps at the term. you’re just so so sweet, he thinks as his full lips ghost over the shell of your ear, “just give me permission, and i’ll make you feel so much better, precious.”

you’re under him in no time, back pressed to your boyfriend’s sheets as jake ghosts his fingers along the slit of your fluttering pussy, already weeping for him. “so messy… so wet babydoll… who is this for?” he asks, purposefully collecting your slick to make a mess with it on his son’s sheets. “you sir!” you reply eagerly, hips rocking into his hold in search of more friction. he chuckles as he lowers his warm mouth to your cunt, eyes locked with your own. “i’ll take care of you so good precious… so good you won’t even know why you’re crying anymore.”

ꕥ PARK SUNGHOON

⚠︎ ice skating instructor!hoon, daddy kink, reader has nipple piercings, p in v

sunghoon watches enamored as you glide across the ice rink, all dolled up with the dress he chose and gifted your for this competition, the gemstones in the shape of an S on your lower back reflecting the light so prettily with every movement you make. he’s been coaching you for months now and he thanks every entity he can think of for bringing such a lovely thing like yourself in his life. he knows most people wouldn't approve of your age gap, but they don't understand what being under your spell feels like. that’s exactly what you did: put a spell on him. your accidental brushes against his crotch while he corrected your form, your little groans as your joints stretched past your limit whenever you trained, your big doe eyes always looking at him for some sort of reassurance for any sort of praise. so fucking eager to please. so desperate for love.

you’re so obedient for him as he makes you ride him silly on the seats next to the ice rink after the competition is done and everyone’s already gone home. knowing very well anyone could walk in at any moment and catch you. but you're such a needy little slut for him he can feel how hard you clench around him whenever he mentions that possibility, whenever you think about anyone seeing you so full of his thick cock that took you twenty minutes to get used to. his length twitches so deep inside you when he notices how close you are but still won't let yourself cum, so whiny and desperate in his ear because you’re waiting for him to tell you to let go. so eager for his voice even when he’s making you go dumb on his cock.

“my lovely girl… you can let go baby, i got you,” he whispers as his mouth latches on one of your nipples, the metallic taste of the piercing adorning it filling his mouth and overwhelming his senses. such a dirty little slut hidden under your good girl façade.

you shake your head and pick up the pace, but can do nothing to stop your walls from fluttering around him as he literally forces your orgasm out of you, holding you down on his cock and pressing his tip so deeply inside you it makes you see starts, telling you that "it's okay honey, you're making daddy feel so good"

ꕥ KIM SUNOO

⚠︎ ceo!sunoo and he's MEAN, oral m!rec, master kink, power dynamics, slight pet play (puppy), degradation

sunoo acts like hiring you, on request of his daughter (your best friend), was such a big big favor. and initially you thought so too; the money is good, the office is close to your apartment, your coworkers are nice too! sunoo even made sure you climbed up the ladder quicker than any other employee of his ever had. sure you are competent and you do your job well, but you were also so naive for thinking he wouldn't expect anything back.

after all he takes such good care of you in the company, why wouldn't he want you to return the favor?

it’s not rare for you to find yourself on your knees under his work desk, the door of his office open.

“open up for me… gonna let master use your mouth huh?,” he says, tapping his leaking cock on your lips and smearing all of his salty precum all over your pretty features.

“yes, master.” you do as you’re told right away, glossy eyes never leaving his as you stretch your mouth wide open for him, anticipating the struggle that always comes with welcoming his length anywhere in your body. and you’re right, he rams his cock in your mouth without giving you any time to adjust, his cock so thick and big you’re already choking all around him and it’s not even halfway in. his tip already brushing the back of your mouth. he tilts his head sideways and stares at you like you’re dumb, waiting for you to take more. you truly do try, big tears falling from your eyes as you try your best to not disappoint him. and he laughs at you. “useless little puppy,” he sighs, grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing you against his dick. “this should be easy for you by now. i know it’s big but i’ve been training you.” he cooes, his bottom lip jutting out in an expression of fake pity. “been making you gag on this cock for so long and you still can’t take it?”

your lashes are all wet with tears now, and you can’t tell if it's the hurt of having disappointed your master or the physical pain his member is causing you, but you can feel how it twitches in your throat when he notices your distress. he takes it out of your mouth, needy whines leaving you at the loss of weight in your tongue, and holds it over your face. “since you can’t suck cock properly,” he punctuates the last word vehemently. “lap it up. like the stupid little dog you are.”

ꕥ YANG JUNGWON

⚠︎ professor!jungwon, teacher/student dynamics, car sex, face sitting, mentions of breeding, sir kink

the lovely professor yang jungwon is everyone’s crush in your university. he’s that one teacher everyone is constantly daydreaming about. so gentle, helpful, smart, funny and charming. he just has it all. it doesn't help that he’s so open about how much he loves his two year old son, always showing anyone that comes to his lectures pictures upon pictures of his baby on his phone. every single person swooning over he’s taking such good care of his kid as a single dad.

he takes such good care of you too, in the backseats of his car before you both go to your lectures: him to teach and you to learn. you’re straddling his face, his mouth latched on your sensitive little bundle of nerves as he switches between sucking on it and lapping at it like a man starved. you’re a moaning mess over him, your hips moving on their own volition as he ghosts his fingers on your thighs and traces them up to your lower back, his big hands bringing your entire weight down on his mouth.

“fuck jungwon… feels so good,” you moan as you throw your head back, eyes closed shut at the overwhelming sensation. you yelp out in pain when he nibbles on your clit a little too harshly for it to be a mistake. “sir… sorry sir.”

he goes back to lapping at your cunt, the tip of his tongue only occasionally prodding at your entrance, ignoring your mewls and whines for more. he makes you cum like that, depriving you over and over of what you really want until just a slight swipe of his tongue on your neglected clit is all it takes for you to gush all of your juices in his mouth. “so good for me… such a good girl…” he whispers as you come down from your high. and before you can even register it he pushes you lower, down to his cock and slaps it over your sensitive cunt a few times, making you jump slightly because of the overstimulation. he grabs your neck and clashes your lips to his, tongue lapping at your own as he lets you taste your own release, “gonna fuck you so good baby,” he says as he locks eyes with you, a glint you’ve never seen before hidden under the lustful shadow covering his irises and blown out pupils. “wanna give you a baby of your own… want to fill your tight little pussy up…”

[wonallofme]

Rumour has it tumblr is shutting down wifeyyyyyyyy

WHAT I JUST DOWNLOADED IT AGAIN, LIKE WHY?????

[wonallofme]

Thank you fairyyy this was fun haha, I think the song and the picture fit a theme but 🤫🤭🔥

you’re starring in a movie with the last person saved in your camera roll and the last song you listened to is the title…who/what is it?

thank you so much for the tag @starry-eyed-wild-child @vi0l3tluvsu @strawb3rrystar love y’all !!

no pressure tags: @lisboncy @chaimilkshake @loveofcherry @lostreverb @taintandviolent @gingerteafairy @ticifics @merrydoe @r0rysreid + anyone who wants to join !!

[wonallofme]

Thank you for the tag mel 🩷🩷🩷 (i'm currently in the awkward face of growing my pixie 😭)

tagging: @heechou

cute/fun tag game

drop your picrew and a photo of your bias!

me ☆ my bias ☆

🏷️ : @yutarot @hearts4hyunjae @cigsaftersuh @ten-ge @stolasisyourparent @90slovejeno @winwintea @polarisjisung @yoshit-he-dinosaur @yizhrt @spacejip @lyvhie @chenlezip @ayukas @cozyczennie @cheers2hani + anyone else who wants to join!

[wonallofme]

heartlink - anton lee

it's a match!

pairing; anton x reader || wc; 5.1k

⟡ cautions heavy noncon, use of the word 'rape', stalking, emphasis on reader’s emotions

⟡ this is the third n final part of 'heartlink' !! pls b sure to read the first two parts okii <3

𐙚 001 002

anton had always been good with people. 

his mother said he was charming. his friends told him that he was pleasing to look at and be around with. he’s heard girls saying he’s easy on the eye. 

he made girls glance thrice and made them giggle behind their hands as they whispered to one another. 

anton had an effortless kind of charm—it’s in the way he smiled, in the way his eyes held warmth that made someone feel like they were special. like, he was seeing only them. he was great with his words too—he knew the right adjectives to use, the right tone to take, the exact moment to pause so his words could sink in just right. the right expression to have on his face, every crinkle and wrinkle, frowning, and nodding. it wasn’t something he forced—anton simply knew people. 

he knew how to make them want to be around him, how to have and hold their attention without needing to put too much effort.

but that didn't mean they stayed. 

because charm alone wasn’t sufficient. 

for all the attention he received, anton was shy. painfully so.

a disease that ruined him.

it stole his words, made him hesitate, lost the chance, let opportunity after opportunity slip right through his fingers like silk. pretty pretty girls liked him, fawned over, swept under—but never stayed long enough to really know him as a person. they just liked him as an idea, a concept, an abstraction. they never saw past the quiet exterior nor understood that his silence wasn’t disinterest—that it was a hurdle, one that needed time, patience, and a little bit of faith.

they lost interest before he could show them what could’ve been. what he could’ve been. before he could even try.

it wasn’t fair—it wasn’t his fault. 

so anton was determined to do something —to fix, to learn.

he learned how to tilt things in his favour, how to bend and mend moments to make them his. all needed was a little push, a little persistence, a little manipulation sprinkled here and there—there was no harm in that. as long as they never knew.  anton could make fate bend.

if the universe wasn’t going to give him what he wanted, he would make it happen.

and for a while, it worked. too well, in fact.

anton got good, got better at it—he got better in wovening people to where he wanted them to be. it was so easy for him that the thrill of it dulled over time. there was no challenge, no fixation, no reward. once they were his, he realised that he didn’t want them anymore.

it was frustrating at first—he got what he wanted in his palm, but now he’s scraping them away like they meant nothing. he had worked so hard and learned so much to unfold things exactly where he intended. so he moved on—over and over—new person, new thread to tug, new tactics learned for his book—until he lost the appeal.

then he stopped altogether. went back to his old ways—not entirely—just focusing on what truly made him happy; his friends, his mother. but that didn’t last long.

until you. 

until he saw you.

anton hadn’t even meant to see you that day. he was simply dropping off his friend, sohee, at his university since he had promised him the day before. and anton was barely paying attention to his vicinity until he did—because suddenly you walked past by his car.

and everything that anton thought he knew about himself, the things he thought he had grown tired of came roaring back to his life. it was like a realisation, a wake up call—so violent it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

the difference with you was you didn’t spare another, not even a glance in anton’s way. you walked past without a single idea that something about you had flipped a switch within anton that he never knew he’d never be able to turn it off.

you’re so perfect in anton’s eyes.

so perfect that he didn’t see you as a game—a challenge—but an end to his new persona. he had already learned how to make things happen; he just needed to do it again, and do it right this time. 

this time, there would be no losing interest.

because this time, he wasn’t going to let you go again.

——

it started small. anton always started small.

a few days after something in him lurched, he'd gotten your name. it wasn’t hard at all—he just went through sohee’s following, and from there, searched for you in other people’s following. and after what felt like hundreds of profiles clicking, he found your social. 

your schedule was another. thankfully, the university you attended didn’t offer as many courses as other universities did. you took nursing—anton thought it suited you. a pretty girl with a kind heart, and anton could only guess a purer soul. 

a little bit of information that wasn’t his to have but found its way into his hands anyway was what anton called fate. sohee had access to the university’s system—just his academic email and password, and anton had the namelist of students, their course, and their class schedule. oh, where she would be and when.

then, it wasn’t about coincidences anymore. anton knew that much—he couldn’t just come up to you, throw some compliments and sweet talks, and expect things to fall into place. anton might be shy, but he wasn’t stupid.

with you, he needed precision, needed a reassurance that your paths would cross again. anton had played a game of luck and chances, and each time he did, he lost the enjoyment right after. so he tweaked things a little, modified, adjusted his ways to ensure you would not slip through his fingers the way so many others had. 

he started watching. 

initially, it was just curiosity. he told himself he just wanted to confirm that the university’s course schedule was accurate. just a few lingering glances and parking a bit too long after dropping sohee off. anton just wanted to know what kind of outfits you wore on monday, tuesday, wednesday, and friday. 

then it became a habit.

he’s looking for excuses to be near the university—with only one being through sohee. he started sending, and picking sohee up after his classes. accompanied him, ate lunch with him, and even going as far as purposely having sohee toured him around the campus. he started memorising the times students flooded out of buildings, until he spotted you again.

but even that, merely observing wasn’t enough. 

you still didn’t know he existed—didn’t notice his car or his presence lingering around too long for society’s acceptance around the nursing building.

so with the patience he had, he waited until the semester was over and it was dreadful for him. anton knew what he was doing was bad—practically stalking and coming up with nonsense excuses to be within your perimeter. with no idea of where you lived, or where you worked, he only knew so little about you through your social—the one where you barely posted anything.

if it was the old him, he would’ve given up—but that version of him died long ago. anton simply stopped for a while, took a breather, rested a little… gave you some freedom and peace before the new semester began.

it was the weekend of the first week of semester break when anton was over sohee’s shared apartment. sohee had invited some friends over—their high school friends—for a boys’ night where they just usually drank alcohol, played games, and talked. anton wasn’t much of a drinker, but he enjoyed his friends’ company—an easy camaraderie that naturally came with a decade of familiarity. 

he was sitting on the couch, half-listening and nodding to a conversation about a professor sungchan loathed for being an asshole when a movement beside him caught his attention. 

sohee was scrolling through tinder.

anton didn’t think much of it except the fact that sohee’s attention was on something else while his friend was ranting, and he wasn’t interested either—at first. 

but then, sohee swiped left to the previous girl, and he saw you.

anton had almost missed it by a second—but there you were.

your profile was a picture you never posted on your instagram. your bio was short, just for fun, anton read in his mind. he didn’t know how long had you had your tinder account up—and he felt stupid for not going on that app when he’s around your campus.

he didn’t say anything, didn’t react—just kept watching from the corner of his eyes as sohee hovered over your profile, debating whether to swipe left or right. 

by the look of it, it didn’t seem like sohee knew or recognised you from his university as he swiped right. anton’s grip on his drink tightened—it didn’t matter. anton had already seen what he needed to see. it was an opening to him. it was fate—and anton didn’t even believe in fate. he believed in making things happen.

…and he did. he excused himself to the bathroom to create an account—chose the best selfie, the one that his mother complimented a lot, the one he didn’t use for his instagram’s display picture. put up a nice bio upon first impression, set his location radius around your university to ensure his face, or yours, would land on either one’s screen.

then it was just a matter of time.

anton knew good things took time—patience always yielded results but… it had been days since he made his tinder account and you still hadn’t shown up on his feed. he knew for one that tinder’s algorithm centred on location-based and it prioritised people nearby which meant…

he wasn’t close enough to you. physically. 

that night, an idea came to his head. he decided to look for you.

taking a long drive, anton’s fingers idly tapped against the steering wheel as he made his way towards where he first met you, the university. but a campus was too broad, so he needed to narrow it down. he drove around the neighbourhood with his tinder app on, refreshing every few minutes until your profile finally showed up.

anton inhaled sharply, throwing his head back against the headrest then took a screenshot of your profile, and swiped right. praying to all gods that it would be reciprocated. that you’d swipe right on him too. he was parked in front of an apartment complex. he had the base, knowing your room number wouldn’t be difficult then. 

a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

it wouldn’t be long now.

——

“no please, anton—i’ll—i’ll unblock you please, please,” your lips begin to tremble, pleads and words spilling out in broken gasps. your breath feels short and thin, as if the air fails to reach your lungs. anton’s grip on your wrist tightens, his slender fingers pressing into your skin with insistence. 

despite that, anton only smiles as he tugs you towards him. soft, patient, and mocking. “why do you always act like i’m a bad guy?” his grip squeezes around the curve of your wrist like a warning. “you act like i’m going to hurt you,” he chuckles—like it’s funny. 

your stomach churns, feet stumbling as he tugs you away from the restaurant—away from your friends’ laughter and voices inside. panic bursts through your veins like ice as you think of every horrible outcome out of this. “no—please,” your breath hitches, you place your other hand on his hand, nails pressed into his skin in desperation to pry him off. “i swear, fuck, anton please, please—”

his fingers only tighten when he feels your effort—digging your heels into the ground and struggling against his grip, but it’s useless. the night air is too cold, but somehow your skin is burning and your chest is heaving in panic attacks as he drags you past the sidewalk. 

no one’s paying attention, no one’s looking—just as anton likes it. 

tears spill down your cheek before you even realise that you’re crying. there’s a heavy pressure in your chest that swells, crushes, and suffocates you. you shake your head wildly while hitting anton’s hand and wrist—anywhere that you can hit, reach, hurt him with all your might. your hair sticks to the dampness on your cheeks.

you can’t breathe.

the fear only becomes unbearable when your mind reminds you that anton was a swimmer—broad shoulders, muscular, long arms—stronger, stronger, stronger than you. the thought crawls up your spine and chokes the breath right out of you. you can’t go against him, you realise. 

the tears only come faster and it’s starting to blur your vision as you beg and plead anton to let you go. he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even look back at you. he’s already made up his mind on what he’s going to do to you. your pleas are falling on deaf ears.

the restaurant lights are getting smaller, your mother’s voice telling you to stay safe only gets louder in your head as you pray to all gods to save you. but the street is empty—and the sky is dark.

the only answer you get is the sight of anton’s car, and the sound of him unlocking it.

anton exhales through his nose, his grip shifting and tightening. 

it happens so fast you don’t even have time to process it. 

he tugs you forward towards him and moves his arm to press against the small of your back—you feel the ground slip from under your feet. a panicked cry rips from your throat as your frail body jerks forward. it doesn’t matter how hard you fight, or how much you beg—your limbs feel useless, like you’re not even in control of them anymore. 

your hands push against his chest, gripping and tugging onto the fabric of his sweater but to no avail. your fingers ball into weak fists as you pound against him with all your might, sobs wracking your body.

anton doesn’t budge, nor does he flinch.

anton exhales—exasperated—he’s tired of your struggling. and suddenly, before you can react—let out a piercing scream and cry for help; his hands clamp down—curling around your wrist, the other gripping the back of your neck. hard. 

“anton—fuck! i’m sorry—!” your voice cracks as your hip slams against the door, the handle digs into your side. you’re being so fucking hard to handle. anton yanks the backseat door open. “get in,” his voice is low, a quiet command laced with something you don’t want to push.

you shake your head frantically, rubbing your hands together in a gesture of supplication, tears streaming down like waterfall. “i’ll talk to you, anton, just—please don’t do this—” anton doesn’t respond. your tears and pleads don’t move him.

they only tighten his pants.

he rolls his eyes and groans as he grips your hair with his fist, lowering your head to propel you in. your breath punches out of you as your palms skid helplessly against the leather seat. immediately, anton slides into the backseat with you. 

oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

you crawl and press yourself against the other door, fingers clawing at the handle as you yank it open—it’s locked and it’s not even budging. “anton, please,” your voice barely comes out, your chest heaving with short sobs. you pressed your back hard, as if trying to merge yourself with his car, to distance yourself from him, but it’s a vehicle, there’s nowhere to go. 

you feel suffocated, claustrophobic, the space closing in around you.

anton leans against the other side of the backseat. exhaling, slow and steady. one arm draped over the headrest as his long legs stretched out, manspreading like he didn’t just force a girl inside the backseat of his car. you’re choking on your own panic while he’s taking all the time in the world.

his eyes flicker over you, you’re not looking at him. you can’t bring yourself to look at him—you don’t want to look at the expression he has on his face. because it won’t match yours. it’s not regret, or fear, fear of getting… raped.

“i don’t know why you’re scared,” he finally says, tilting his head slightly as he looks at you. his voice is soft and… as usual, like it’s his effort to soothe you. it only makes the horror settle in your bones. 

this guy is fucking nuts, you thought. you shake your head, tears slipping down on his leather seat. maybe if you speak nicer—softer, he’d think twice. hesitate. “please, anton—just let me go… i’m so, so sorry,” you sob, your voice barely above a whisper. your heartbeat slams against your ribs, your body rigid and uncontrollable. 

anton simply watches you, then wraps his hand around your ankle. your instinct—in this case, fight or fight—kicks in before logic. you try to twist away, but his grip is unyielding. “no—no—!” you whimper and try to scramble back. 

anton shifts his weight—his body crowding yours as he forces you down against his seat. you squirm, your voice high and desperate. his hand finds your wrists, pinning them down above your head. he has you trapped underneath him completely. “shhh, shhh,” he murmurs, his other hand snatches your cheek gently, lovingly, squishing your cheeks, your trembling lips pursed together. “you’re okay, you’re okay…” 

anton hums as your pearly tears pile down his hand. “you always make things difficult,” he continues, tilting his head slightly as he leans down closer. his breath warm against your damp cheek “you’ll hurt yourself if you keep struggling.” he soothes.

he tilts his head slightly to graze the shell of your ear. his teeth catch on the skin. you feel his breath, the sensation and warmth shooting down your spine. “it’s just me,” his voice gentle—much like a lover than an assaulter—as he rolls his thumb against the beat of your pulse. he licks and sucks on the shell of your ear. “it’s just me,” he repeats. 

you let out another quiet sob when you feel his bulge pressed against your clothed pussy. anton lets out a soft groan in your ear, “do you feel that pretty? i’m so hard for you,” he moans softly as he continues to rub his tent against your pussy. you shake your head violently, letting out whimpers and soft sobs. anton lets out a sharp exhale before clicking his tongue, looking at you struggling beneath. 

your sobs are slowly grating against his patience…

“yn,” he says, his eyes sharp and irritated. his usual softness is gone.”i’ve been nothing but good, and patience with you,” he mutters, his grip on your cheeks tightening—almost bruising. “if you do anything weird, i’ll fucking kill you,” he continues, voice low and threatening. 

terror grips you like a vice. your breath lodges in your throat as your body immediately stiffens. you stomach churns, you think you might be sick. puke on him, puke on him—his threat echoes, louder than the pounding of your heartbeat in your head. i’ll fucking kill you.

his threat sounds more like a promise—and you try to say something, apologise, or anything, but nothing comes out. you force a nod but your body won’t move. you’re trapless and helpless as you try to pacify him. 

anton cracks a smile as he moves his hand from your cheeks, to pat your head, caressing your hair. “don’t make a sound,” he mutters as he begins tugging at your clothes—one by one—shushing and soothing your cries as he leaves you with nothing on but your pants and bra, his motions unhurried.

he sat back, humming softly. “‘m going to let go of your hands—and unless you want to touch me too, don’t even think about anything else.” anton says, slowly releasing his iron grip around your wrists. there’s an ache still pulsing, your arms remain above your head, fingers twitching to remember how to do something—but you don’t. you can’t.

anton leans down to place his lips on yours, his eyes flutter shut as he sighs against your lips. you don’t kiss back, but he doesn’t care. he deepens the kiss like it’s something you want too, smiling between the kisses. you only whimper. 

anton continues to ravish you with his lips, his free hand travels down to unbutton your jeans, tugging it down just enough to display your plain panties, and to position himself between your thighs. “i really want to take my time with you, but it’s so cold,” he lets out a dry chuckle, but nothing’s funny.  “anton, can—can we talk, please? please,” your voice comes in short. the air inside his car is thick as he slips his hand inside your panties.

it might be cold outside, but your pussy feels too warm for someone who claims to not want it.

you cry and squirm as you feel his palm makes contact with your bare cunt—anton now kisses the corner of your lips, slowly travelling down along your jaw and the curve of your shoulder. “you’re so tense. relax, pretty.” your stomach churns as his fingertips make minute circles on the nub of your clit. anton continues the simulation—drawing your juices out of you. 

he smacks gently on your pussy and it makes a slick, wet sound in the car. you flinch, disgusted and humiliated with yourself. you can feel how wet you’re getting—you chant that it’s your body’s natural response to being touched in a sexual manner. this is not what you want—this is rape, rape, rape.

anton simply smiles at your reaction before finding your entrance, and slips his index finger in. he feels your gummy walls as he finger-fucks you. anton’s single finger reaches the angle and parts your hand couldn’t. he is in the position to push deeper, and he does. after a few seconds of thrusting his index finger back and forth, anton slides another finger inside, stretching your entrance. “you’re so tight, it’s only my fingers…” he murmurs innocently, lips pressed forward slightly in a pouting manner. 

anton picks up his pace in fucking your pussy with his fingers, curling and pushing against your g-spot, your juices ooze on his hand, coating his fingers in a layer of your sweet fluid. anton watches you in amusement, lips parting slightly as he pulls out his fingers, glancing between his fingers, your teary face, and the way your pussy is twitching from merely his digits. 

wow, he’d break you with his cock… 

you cry and shut your eyes as tight as you can, refusing to believe that you are being put in this position. anton has you completely merciless underneath him—and there’s nothing you could do except pray that a meteor crashes the car and kills you, and him. 

wasting no time, anton unzips and pulls down his jeans; you don’t see it but you can feel—tell that his cock is hung, throbbing, needy. he picks up your hips easily, bringing you up against his pelvis. “i hope i’m your first,” you hear anton mumble. you don’t know if he’s talking to himself, or you.

you feel him positioning the head of his cock at your clenching pussy, slowly pushing himself inside. your breath hitches and you almost let out a muffled moan before biting down hard on your bottom lip. you’re not going to give anton the satisfaction of getting a moan out of you. it burns, and it hurts, a lot. you feel his cock expanding and stretching and overwhelmingly filling the empty tunnel in the worst way possible. you cry.

on the other hand, anton grunts, sinking his erection deeper that he can’t see the base of his cock, totally ignoring the way you’re sobbing on his leather seat. “my goodness baby, you’re so,” anton exhales, feeling your muscles clamp around his cock. he pushes his hips forward, thrusting and beginning to move. the friction of his cock sliding back and forth out of you sends sparks to your core. 

you can’t contain it—the air knocks from your lungs as anton only increases his pace. your tightness and your warmness sends anton to ecstasy. you clamp your hands on your mouth to suppress moanings, and anton doesn’t seem to mind it—not when he has you where he wants to. 

he reaches really deep inside of you—mercilessly driving and ramming his cock in-and-out of your pussy. “anton…” you mewled, muffled. anton nods, biting hard his lower lip as he leans down to place a soft kiss on your hands. “say it baby, say my name, c’mon,” he moans, his voice strains. 

you shake your head, turning your head to the side as your body betrays you. the shame of growing wetter sears through you. it disgusts you more than the man violating on top of you. your body betrays you—you can never forgive yourself, you’d kill yourself before ever admitting that it’s pleasurable. 

anton’s hands move to your hips, digging his nails into your plush flesh as he pulls you towards him to sink his cock deeper—past your cervix, knocking on your womb. he rams into you while planting kisses all over your face and body. nipping and biting and marking on your skin like canvas.

this was an experience you’ve never thought you’d face. every inch of anton—as he drags his cock halfway out before forcing it back inside of you makes your body withers beneath him. you let out another round of muffled sobs. anton notices and his heart swells and aches—almost. he hums as he dips his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your natural body’s scent. 

“you’re so soft, yn,” he murmurs against your skin. his movement slows, now pounding short and hard in what anton calls it intimate. “i love you so, so much, goodness,” he whispers, confessing on the curve of your shoulder, descending to your jaw, and up to your ear. anton kisses you everywhere his lips can reach, his hands combing and holding onto your head as he fucks you like a fleshlight. 

“‘m gonna cum, pretty,” he moans in your ear as he rocks his hips back and forth, uneven breaths hitting your skin. his thrusts become more erratic as he chases his high—nearing his peak. you choke on your sobs as you finally move your hands off your mouth to place it on his chest—distancing yourself as much as possible. “anton, please, no,” you whimper, weakly protesting as it goes in one ear, and exits on the other. he doesn’t care—can’t bring himself to care about what you want at the moment. not when your warm, squelching wet pussy is inviting and begging him to fill your womb full with his love semen. “gonna fill your pretty body up with my cum, fuck—,”

not when he has you completely under his mercy.

anton’s thrusts become sloppy, his languid strokes losing its rhythm as his hips jerk spastically as he pumps his cock to its peak. he overstimulates and rams the spongy spot inside you. with a final slam, anton buries his aching cock to the deepest part of your cunt—his cock pulsing and throbbing and pumping as he empties himself inside of you. he feels his scrotum contracts as he spurts out thick ropes of cum inside your womb. you whimper—and you think you can feel the way your tummy bulge over and over as anton continues to fuck his cum into you. “mmh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” a low guttural groan builds in his throat as he moans, burying his face deep into your neck. 

you don’t move. your body convulsing and you feel nothing besides—tainted, tarnished, corrupted. your body feels foreign—it doesn’t belong to you anymore, it’s his, his, his. your chest rises and falls in uneven breaths. the air you desperately need only sticks to the roof of your mouth because it refuses to get past the lump that died in your throat.

your fingers twitch at his chest as anton still hasn’t stopped… besides his cum, disgust coils in your stomach. your ears ring, muffling his groans and moans and confessions. you wish you could die.

“i love you so much, pretty.” anton slowly pulls out, making sure his semen doesn’t ooze out of your pussy too much. he exhales at the sight of a white ring and the way his cum, and your juices coat nicely around his cock. a sight he wants to see everyday. his adam’s apple bobs as he tugs on his bottom lip, holding his cock by its base to scoop his cum trailing out of your pussy back in—just slightly slipping the head in. 

he pulls back up your panties and pants—seeing his thick cum pass through the cotton fabric of your cute panties as he stuffs himself back in his boxer and jeans. he lets out a soft sigh as he leans down, wrapping his big arms around your shattered body. his chin rests against the crown of your head and his hand smooth over your back in mocking comfort. anton’s fingers trace patterns down the curve of your spine—letting out another sigh of content. 

he’s way too warm. 

when anton speaks, he’s back to his usual self. his voice gentle, soft, like the first time he had talked to you. “see?” he murmurs against your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, that now is mixed with the smell of sex floating in the air. “i’ve got you,” he soothes, smiling. you shouldn’t have blocked him.

your stomach churns in agony as you stare at his sleepy face in your blurry vision.

——

“no, it’s okay, i got you,” you said, offering him a soft smile before tapping your card on the terminal. you placed your own snacks on the counter. anton, still holding his wallet in his hands, didn’t move as he stared at you—head empty a second too long. he was short a few dollars for some beers and cup noodles… 

 “oh—uhm,” he stammered, feeling guilty. “thanks…” he murmured shyly, throat suddenly dry. 

you just replied with a nod, preoccupied with paying for your own things to notice that anton was still looking at you as he picked up his plastic bag from the counter. he swallowed his saliva, mind scrambling trying to figure out something else to say—to keep you just a second longer—trying to talk to you despite his shyness. 

but before he could do anything, the cashier handed you your plastic bag, and you thanked her before walking away. 

you didn’t even look at anton for the second time. 

the door chimed and you were gone.

leaving anton dumbfounded, embarrassed as he stared at the door swung shut behind you.

anton swore that if he saw you again, he wouldn’t let you slip away so easily. 

💭 i hope u guys like this!!!🥹🥹🩷🩷 tysm for overflowing heartlink with love n anticipation :((

[wonallofme]

content warnings stepcest, dubcon/noncon elements (he doesn’t consent, but he clearly wants it) , older reader, usage of the word “noona”, masturbation, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex

don’t like it? don’t read it!

notes this drabble was originally posted to istjisung. i am istjisung. if you see my drabbles posted on any account other than istjisung or karmicmortal, or the ao3 accounts of the same name, that is not me.

there’s that sound again. the agitating, grating, annoyingly sexy sound of jungwon masturbating in the next room. the walls are paper thin, and he knows that. but it seems that no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t quite be as silent as he needs to be. which is what leads you to hear him. each. and. every. time.

the wet sounds of his spit-slicked cock fucking his fist. the low moans that leak past the corners of his pursed lips. the curses, the breathy way he moans out your name. you hear it all. you hear the way your stepbrother makes himself cum almost nightly to the thought of you—and you can’t help it when slick starts seeping out of you and soaking your panties. you can’t help it when you push your panties to the side and slip your fingers inside yourself, wishing they were jungwon’s instead. you’d wonder what he’s thinking about; was he imagining it’s your hand? did he think about you giving him a blowjob? or does he think about stuffing your pussy full of his big cock, your sticky arousal smearing over his thighs as he fucks his cum into you?

it’s wrong. it’s so wrong, yet it feels so right. you know that you shouldn’t be thinking of your stepbrother like this, he shouldn’t be getting off to you, but how can you quit when he’s so attractive?

you’d been dropping hints for weeks.

suddenly, your fingers weren’t enough. you needed more. to be stretched open, shamefully coming undone for jungwon. to have your tight cunt swallowing his dick inside you. to hear him moaning for you, right in your ear. your fingers didn’t fill you up the way you craved. so you’d tease jungwon, hoping he would get the hint and take what’s his. but nothing seemed to work. he didn’t react when you would wear little shorts or a skirt that barely covered your ass, looked away when you would bend over in front of him to give him a panty shot, and worst of all, he would shift and brush your hand off of his thigh at dinner when you tried to touch him.

needless to say, you’d gotten desperate. you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t take the bait. you know that he finds you attractive. you hear how much he does. why would he keep pathetically fucking his hand when you’re even more than willing to give him everything he wants and more?

you can’t stand listening to him for one more moment. your pussy was uncomfortably wet and you were getting nowhere with just your fingers. before you can think about it, before you could talk yourself out of it, you stomp your way to jungwon’s room, which shares a wall with yours. he hears you coming, and he’s afraid that he’s been too loud and you’re going to yell at him and call him a pervert. he fumbles to try to quickly cover himself up, but you’re quick to swing the door open and barge in his room. he’s still fumbling with the blanket, trying to cover himself. you stand in the doorway, staring at him menacingly. jungwon feels the heat of embarrassment burning his body from the inside out as you stand there, face unreadable and gaze unwavering. he’s unable to talk, wanting to beg you not to storm out and tell your parents what a disgusting freak he is, but nothing comes out.

then it happens. you close the door behind you, stepping even further into his room.

jungwon watches as you walk towards him. he feels like everything is moving in slow motion, every movement you make, the sway of your hips, watching your gorgeous legs and the subtle bounce of your tits with every step as you get closer to him. he’s awaiting a slap to the face, a curse, or something equally degrading. but there’s nothing.

instead, you tear the blanket off of him, moaning at the sight of his cock, so thick and heavy and wet between his legs. he can’t deny the way his dick jerks, painfully hard and throbbing, at the sound.

“what—what are you doing?” he managed to croak out. “noona? i-i’m—i’m sorry—oh, fuck.”

you reach out, wordlessly wrapping your hand around his shaft. experimentally jerking it once, twice, three times. the slide was easy, though the saliva had started to dry in the absence of his attention.

“you think about me when you jerk off?” your eyes are still trained on his cock. the tip has begun to turn a purpley red color, desperate for release. you already knew the answer, so your question was rather rhetorical. “do you ever think of asking me to help?”

jungwon bites his lip, squeezing his eyes tight. he can’t deny that having your hands on him, slowly rubbing over his length, is something he’s dreamed about for years now. but that’s all it is. a dream. something unattainable, out of reach, unrealistic. “we—fuck, noona—we can’t.”

you squeeze, stopping at the base. “we can’t what?” finally looking up at him, you take in the view of his face. eyes screwed shut, cheeks flushed, lips bitten and swollen, a thin sheen of sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. “from the looks—and sound—of it, you want it just as badly as i do. so don’t tell me no, wonie.” not that you’d listen, anyway. you had come this far and you feel that you’re past the point of no return now.

you crawl onto the bed with him, leaning down to be eye level with his abdomen. gathering up your saliva at the tip of your tongue, letting it drip down onto the head of his aching cock. you don’t listen to his protests as you spread the makeshift-lubrication down the length of his cock with your hand, lips soon following. you lean down to press kisses along the sides and tip of his cock before enveloping the thick head with your mouth, suckling and swirling your tongue around it.

his hands find their way to your hair. “ah, haa, stop—please. noona. we—aaah—can’t do this.”

you take more of his length into your mouth, focusing on breathing through your nose until you get halfway, then pulling off to repeat the process. kissing, licking, sucking, bobbing your head and trying to take more of him in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat.

jungwon finally opens his eyes again. and what a treat he sees—his stepsister, the girl slightly older than him that he’s been fantasizing about for so long, lips stretched out thin around his thick cock, heavy on your tongue as you desperate try to lick at whatever can’t fit in your mouth. he feels like he could cum at the sight, but he knows he shouldn’t. he knows that he should push you off and pretend this never happened. he wants to say no, but he can’t bring himself to. he selfishly wants to savour the feeling of your warm mouth around him, knowing that this is something he thought would happen in his dreams.

in fact, he isn’t quite sure that he isn’t dreaming when you detach yourself from his cock, because when you do, you turn around, on all fours, and pull your panties to the side. jungwon has a full view of your sopping wet pussy, understanding now just how desperately you wanted this. he knows then, that no matter how much he tells you not to, you’re still going to sink down on his cock. all he can do is bask in the feeling of your velvety, spongy walls clenching around him, draining the cum from his balls, and not complain.

[wonallofme]

— sex advice

▸ 18+ mdni.

you have an obvious crush on your tutor, chenle, and he takes advantage of your feelings for him when you innocently ask him for sex advice.

| pairing. tutor!chenle x fem!reader

| warnings. heavy dubcon, chenle's an asshole, manipulation, choking, spit kink, unprotected sex, degradation, loss of virginity, innocent!reader.

| wc. 2.8k

⤷ part of my 1k event.

the library is mostly silent apart from the occasional whispers of other students and the sound of fingers typing on keyboards. it’s almost become a daily occurrence for you to be here, to be sitting at the exact same table at the far back of the library, hidden behind multiple rows of books. 

it’s embarrassing to admit, but you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your low gpa… and the few classes you’re failing. it’s not on purpose, of course, but you don’t have the longest span of attention. it’s quite short, in fact. 

you were desperate for good grades and your friends suggested to ask someone to tutor you. you were reluctant at first, way too shy to ask anyone for help, but as the C’s and D’s kept coming in, you had no other choice. 

“that’s gonna be all for today,” chenle announces, a heavy thud resonating as he closes his textbook. he turns to look at you and you bob your head, showing that you understand. he watches you wordlessly for a long second, eyeing you down. “you did great,” he says and your eyes slightly widen at the compliment. 

“really?” you ask in a small voice. 

he nods curtly, looking back up at you. “yeah. you understood everything quite well, you were even able to do all the exercises without my help.”

you can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words. you’re surprised you performed well today because all you remember doing was staring at the way his hand gripped his pen as he wrote down the exercises and his lips parting as he explained them to you. 

“thank you,” you mumble, a timid smile drawing on your face. 

“you earned a reward, don’t you think?” chenle says, watching you eagerly bounce your head immediately after. “come closer,” he instructs and you do just as he says, dragging your chair closer to his. 

when he deems you close enough, he takes a hold of your jaw, tilting your chin upward. he hovers just above you, his breath fanning across your face as he tells you to open your mouth. 

you part your lips and you whimper when his spit lands on your tongue. you shut your mouth, and chenle doesn’t even have to remind you to swallow it before you do. 

the faintest grin tugs on his lips, passing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. you look at him like a desperate little puppy, frowning and pouting. if only he’d go further than that…

“such a good girl,” he purrs. 

you feel a little giddy as he retrieves back his hand and you start rubbing your thighs together, feeling a wave of heat travel down to your core. you bite down into your lip, already missing chenle’s touch. 

“you should pack up our stuff now,” he then instructs, leaning back against his chair, passing his fingers through his hair. 

you get up and collect all of the things scattered on the table, his expectant eyes following each one of your movements making you a little nervous. you slip his textbook into his backpack as well as his pencil case and laptop. once you’re done, you zip up your bag, putting the strap over your shoulder. 

you scurry behind chenle as he walks to the exit, struggling to pick up with his pace. he stops before reaching the door, turning back to you. 

“i’ll see you next week.” he takes his backpack from your hands, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. “keep on with the good work, yeah?” 

you dumbly nod your head as you watch him pushing open the door of the library, and you stand there uselessly, trying to ignore the wetness in your panties. 

—-

“i’m sorry,” you apologize bashfully, hurriedly putting your books down and getting your coat off your shoulders. 

chenle watches you closely, clearly annoyed, his tongue pushing against his inner cheek. you sit down panting, brushing your fingers through your hair, wanting to look presentable as you finally face him. 

“i wanted to get here early, but i left my books at home, so i had to go pick them up… then my car got stuck in the snow,” you explain, trying to make him understand that it was really not intentional. you let out a chuckle to ease up the mood, but chenle doesn’t seem to find it funny. 

“you could’ve just borrowed one from here,” he sighs. 

you feel stupid for not having thought of that. you look down at your lap as your face burns in embarrassment. 

“i know you’re not the smartest, but you could’ve avoided all this unnecessary trouble…” his voice is firm, almost condescending. “...if you just had thought about it for a little longer.”

after a second of heavy silence with just him staring you down and you avoiding his gaze, he shrugs, turning to open his book.

“let’s continue from where we left off.” 

you listen to chenle and everything goes well, you’d say, except for the few times he has to correct you on your answers. this chapter seems a little bit more difficult, but it’s probably due to your racing thoughts. you don’t mean to get lost in your mind every now and then, but the tight knot you felt at the bottom of your stomach when chenle was scolding you is still very much present. 

you nod at each one of his explanations, scolding yourself mentally when you focus too long on his hands or face. he hums approvingly when you get the right answers and when you summarize what you understood. 

it feels good to have his approval after you quite clearly disappointed him. 

“how much did you get on your last test?”

you stop writing, glancing up from your sheet of paper. you meet chenle’s gaze and register his question; you did mention to him last time that you had a test, still waiting on its result. 

“uh, i got a B-,” you reply, nibbling down on your bottom lip as you study his expression. it doesn’t change much, doesn’t even lift up or falter. 

“that’s great. good job.” he nods in acknowledgement and you mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ in return. 

you wonder for a moment if he will give you a reward for it, but he doesn’t say anything else, so you go back to your sheet of paper. you try to continue the exercise and you find yourself unable to get back into it. you’re just too distracted. 

chenle quickly catches on it. “what’s the problem?” he questions, raising his eyebrows quizzically at you. 

you open your mouth and close it, not sure how you should address this. should you even share it with him in the first place?

you’ve been thinking about it a lot, and you don’t know for how long you can keep it to yourself. it might as well slip off your lips one day.

you eventually sigh, tilting your head toward him. “... please, promise you won’t judge me?” 

chenle is intrigued now. what could you be worrying your little head about? “i promise,” he says and you think he sounds truthful. 

“okay, um…” you take a deep breath, not knowing where to look, opting for your lap as usual. “i’m not sure how to say this, but…” you begin to mumble, shifting in your seat, chenle’s eyes never leaving you, “i was wondering if you could help me with something else.”

he arches a brow, the corner of his lips tugging upward into a playful smirk, your shyness amusing him. “and what is it?” he asks. 

“i- i’ve never had sex before, and… i know you have a lot of experience,” you bluntly admit, already feeling your cheeks getting warmer. “so i wanted to know if you’d accept to help me… with that.”

you almost deflate in your chair when you hear chenle’s laughter, slowly turning your head to see him smiling, chest heaving at each one of his laughs. 

you wish you could bury yourself six feet underground. why did you say that? you should have just shut it. you’re so dumb. so stupid.

his laugh eventually fades, sighing softly. you bite the inside of your cheek, holding back your tears, but your eyes shoot up when a sound of agreement escapes his mouth. 

“sure,” he shrugs, “i guess i can give you a hand with that, too.”

you gratefully pack his things when the time comes, feeling like there’s a weight off your shoulders. you really thought it was a silly idea—a perverted one, too—but your relationship with chenle isn’t what you could call ordinary… 

“aren’t you forgetting something?” he calls after you before you can leave, halting your steps as he approaches you. you look at him with wide eyes and he only smiles, grabbing your chin. “open,” he orders and you do so. 

you’re surprised when he slips two of his fingers inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. you close your lips around him, but he tuts, making you open your mouth again. he spreads his fingers apart, one on each side of your tongue, and he leans down over you, collecting saliva in his mouth. he purses his lips and lets his spit fall into your mouth. 

you gladly accept it and swallow it once he has removed his fingers. he wipes his digits over your pants in two motions, looking at you one last time with a grin on his face before walking away. 

your hand clenches around the strap of your bag thinking about what happened and what will happen. your crush on him is really innocent, it was never supposed to be more, but the fact he agreed to your request, makes you think that maybe it can go further than just him being your tutor. 

—-

“... and that’s my room,” you announce, stepping aside to let chenle in. 

your teeth sink into your lip as he looks around, seeing the many plushies decorating your bed and dresser, your beauty products organized on your desk amongst the school supplies. his eyes go over your entire room, noting the overly feminine aesthetic of it. 

you play with your fingers as chenle walks over to your dresser with hands in pockets, not really knowing what to do or say now that he’s here. you curse yourself mentally, thinking that you should have never proposed that. 

he grabs a baby blue dolphin plushie off the dresser, turning it around to inspect it, finding the pink ribbon tied in a bow around its neck cute. he puts it back down, finally facing you, still standing in the same spot as earlier. 

“kinda childish,” he observes, “but it fits you.” 

you’re not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment, but you nonetheless thank him in a small voice and he smiles in return. 

he glances at your bed and decides to take a seat on it, the mattress dipping under his weight. you take hesitant steps toward him and he follows you with his gaze, seeming almost malicious.

“so, um… how do we do this?”

he gestures to you with a nod of his head, making place for you on the bed. “come here.”

you execute yourself and sit down, turning your torso toward him. he shifts closer, placing a hand on the back of your neck and bringing your lips to his. it’s slow and gentle at first and you find yourself leaning into the kiss, moving your lips over his, even though you don’t really know what you’re doing. 

chenle pulls back and you can see his lips shining in both of your spit, making you want more of him. “this was your first kiss, wasn’t it?” he lightly chuckles and you give him a shy nod. “i could tell… it felt like kissing a dog,” he snorts.

you gulp, blood rushing to your cheeks. “i’m sorry,” you apologize, voice low, a little shameful.

he only hums in response, his eyes going down to your pouty lips. he then brings you back to him, but this time, he takes full control of your mouth and you have a hard time following him. he kisses you expertly, taking your breath away. 

but you squeak when he traps your lip between his teeth, biting down hard. he lets go of you as you flinch away, looking at him with a frown, but he just stares back at you blankly. you can feel the trace of his teeth inside your mouth when you pass the tip of your tongue over it. 

“chenle…” 

he rolls his eyes at your whine. “if you back away from a simple kiss, how do you expect me to teach you anything?” he scolds. 

he’s right. it’s only the beginning and you’re already acting like a coward. chenle is way more experienced than you, you know you have to listen to him, but was the bite necessary?

you scoot back to him and your knee knocks into his. chenle seems impatient now, taking a hold of your neck again. he crashes his mouth on yours and you moan at the clash of your teeth. he brings you down to the mattress, hovering over you. 

your hands fly to his t-shirt, twisting the hem between your fingers. his palm moves to your throat and his other hand pins your hips down, fitting himself between your legs. you feel his bulge rubbing against your clothed pussy and the temperature of your room suddenly rises up. 

chenle breaks the kiss and backs away a little to be able to lock eyes with you. you’re breathless already, mouth agape and lips all swollen. 

his hand that was on your hip slides down your stomach, fingers sneaking under the band of your leggings. you gasp when his rough fingertips come directly in contact with your bare folds that are, without surprise, sticky with your arousal. 

“virgins are always so wet,” he almost growls and the look in his eyes takes you aback. chenle seems… hungry, his pupils totally dilated. “and you’re fucking soaking just from that little kiss.”

chenle pinches your clit between his thumb and forefinger and you flinch from the sudden sting. the pain fades away as he rubs circles on you, the pleasure quickly building up in you. you can’t help but let out a small gasp. 

“you don’t even need prep… i bet that hole is already all nice and wet for me,” he says, accelerating the pace of his fingers. the coil at the pit of your stomach tightens and you feel your orgasm approaching really fast. 

he watches your brows knitting together as you buck your hips against his hand, hands and legs shaking, shocks of pleasure passing through your body. 

his hand leaves your panties after that and you’ve barely recovered from your high that he moves you to the middle of the bed, flipping you on your stomach. his movements are fast and chenle doesn’t waste any time. you don’t like how he’s treating you, and you’re confused by his rough behaviour. this was supposed to be helping, not… degrading. 

“chenle, this isn’t… i don’t-” you stop in the middle of your sentence, fear settling in you as he grabs a fistful of your hair and lifts your head up, his mouth right beside your ear.

“you’re a good girl, right?” he asks and you frown, your pout deepening. “you let me handle it. you’re too fucking dumb to do anything useful anyway.” his voice is stern and cold. it’s not like he’s never spoken to you like this before, but right now it hurts. has chenle thought so lowly of you all this time?

you feel tears kissing your eyes, gasping as he pulls your leggings down your thighs along with your panties, exposing your private parts to him. you feel the air hitting your bare skin and goosebumps travel your skin. 

you look over your shoulder and you get the glimpse of him fumbling with the belt of his pants, dragging his zipper down. he hooks his thumbs under his briefs and tugs them down, freeing his hard cock out. your breath itches in your throat when he pushes at your entrance, and even though you’re covered in your slicks, you still feel a burning pain at the intrusion of his length inside of you. 

“it hurts, please, chenle…”

he doesn’t respond, focusing on your pussy literally sucking him in, gritting his teeth as he thrusts all the way in. you’re so tight he can’t even breathe. 

he leans over you, his chest flushed to your back. his fist clenches around your hair, shoving your head into your pillows, some of the stuffed animals on your bed falling to the side, others hitting the floor.

“pleasure comes with pain, baby,” he whispers, “get used to it.”

[wonallofme]

“ 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 , 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆, ”

[wonallofme]

damn bro you really like weed and burgers (real)

I LOVE WEED N BURGERS I love weed and burgers omg call me randy bo-bandy stg

[wonallofme]

just a taste. ♡ [18+ MDNI]

jay x fem!reader | wc: 800 | cw: dubcon, taboo relationship (jay is reader’s boss), oral (f. rec), fingering, squirting, names used darling, good girl [another repost from my other blog: yrfairy.]

you feel lightheaded, gasping softly as jay’s hands spread your legs apart. “keep them open for me,” he tells you, his thumbs rubbing against the soft flesh. your inner thighs feel so sensitive, and you have to swallow your mewls.

“please, i can’t do this,” you whimper. arousal pools in your stomach, and you desperately want to close your legs to hide the wetness beginning to soak through your thin panties.

you feel ashamed. jay is your boss, he’s not supposed to be seeing you like this with your heels propped up on his desk. your skirt rides up, exposing more of your skin, and you feel so dirty but it’s only turning you on more.

jay kneels down in front of you, leaning in closer to lick at your soaking cunt through your underwear. he moans softly, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you. it feels good, and you can’t help but whine when he starts rubbing gentle circles over your clit. it feels really good, and for a moment, you’re not thinking about how wrong it is.

“you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted you, do you?” jay groans, lapping more desperately at your pussy now, as he pushes your panties aside to get closer to your heat. “when i saw you, i knew,” he looks up at you, eyes hooded and mouth glistening with your slick. “i knew i’d do anything to have you like this.”

his words shoot straight to your core. you swear you can feel yourself growing wetter by the second. it’s so hard to resist him, and you wonder why you even need to. he’s unmarried, and so are you. you’re not sure what’s so wrong about fooling around in the privacy of his office, after hours. jay glides his thumb over your now exposed bud, and you decide his attention feels too incredible to deny it any longer.

you keep your legs open for him, spreading them further even, and another moan escapes you. “ah, jay,” you whimper and it sounds so sinful to say his name like this. you don’t want him to stop though, you’ve gone too far and you don’t want to go back.

“use your words,” jay purrs, blowing gently on your sensitive nub. “what is it that you want from me, darling?” he’s teasing you, you know that. he wants to hear you beg. but, you have no other choice, you desperately need him to help you cum.

“please,” you whine, rolling your hips forward on the desk. you nibble at your lower lip. “i need you.”

“need me to what? i asked you to use your words. can you do that?” he asks, brows furrowed. you can tell he’s growing impatient and you don’t want to test how serious he is about wanting you. it’s entirely plausible he’ll decide to cut his losses and move on to someone else. he’s risking so much to do this with you and you can’t take that lightly.

“i need you to fuck me,” you moan, feeling your hole clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. you swear you’ve never thought about him in this way before and now you can’t comprehend leaving his office without taking his cock.

“mm, it’s sweet that you’re so eager,” he smirks, softening his voice. “but, you’ll have to settle for my fingers in the meantime, i think my cock is more of a third date thing.” he chuckles. there’s the shame again, filling you up and making you feel damp. jay keeps your panties held to the side, pressing his lips to your clit as he slides his middle finger inside of you. you take it with ease and he quickly adds a second, and then a third, your walls greedily expanding to accommodate the intrusions.

“good girl,” he praises in between returning continuing to lick and suck at your wet cunt. he keeps pushing his fingers in further, pressing against your velvety walls before curling them upwards. you clench, gasping when he finds your sweet spot.

jay grins, learning fast, and continuing to do what he needs to do to bring you closer. you keep yourself steady with one hand on the desk and reach your other out to grasp at your boss’ hair.

“please, please!” you cry, begging jay to keep going. “don’t stop, please.” you tug on jay’s hair, keeping his head where you need it to be. he keeps up his ministrations, repeatedly hitting the spongy spot deep within you until you can’t hold back any longer.

the band inside you snaps, warmth gushing out of you and onto jay’s face. he takes it so well, drinking in your sweet essence and moaning while he helps you through your orgasm. when you finally come down, your eyes flutter open as you watch jay stand up, wiping your slick off his chin with the back of his hand.

maybe you’re just being hopeful, but you feel as though this won’t be the last time you see him like this.

[wonallofme]

— dior girl

▸ 18+ mdni.

When Park Sunghoon wants something, he gets it no matter how hard it can be. He's not scared to get his hands dirty. If he had any morals, maybe he'd consider his obsession with you getting out of hands, but he has absolutely no morals.

| pairing. designer!sunghoon x fem!reader

| warnings. dark!sunghoon (he's not a good person lol), implied legal age gap, alcohol consumption & mention of drugs use, mention of gain weight, manipulation, corruption, violent sexual thoughts, unprotected sex, anal play, dacryphilia, aftercare because yes sunghoon's a sadist but he still has a heart.

| wc. 7.5k

| a.n.: repost from an old blog. pls forgive me for how lengthy the smut is (or thank me)!!

His studio is his sanctuary. It's the only place where he can spend hours without even noticing the moon setting or the sun rising. In his studio, it feels like time doesn't exist or that it's just a futile detail that doesn't have much importance.

When he's creating a piece, nothing around him matters. The only things he's willing to give attention to are the placements of the needles on the fabric, the little lines that form the pattern of the clothing, or the way his scissors cut through the satin material of the dress he's working on.

He's thought about this design for so long and he finally got the opportunity to make it. He's thought about the colours of the dress and of the seam, about the length of the hem and the sleeves, how deep the neckline should be and if lace would be suitable.

He doesn't even recall how many sketches he's made of that dress. At some point, it was consuming his entire mind, the only thing he could draw and think of.

Now that he's finally making it, he has the feeling that it's going to be the best piece he's ever created. He already sees everyone talking about it, saying how much of a genius Park Sunghoon is. It's going to be the design of the year—of the century.

He still misses something, though, and it might be the most important part of it all. He needs a model, the perfect body to wear his piece and present it to the fashion world.

It can't be anybody, it must be someone who's confident, who always has their head up and radiates elegance and sports a unique beauty.

Sunghoon still hasn't found this person. He constantly searches for them, but never finds them or when he thinks that he has, he discovers flaws he cannot unseen.

All the Dior models are great, but not enough. They don't spark anything in Sunghoon when he watches them strode down the catwalk. He's checked upon the apprentices and the newer models the company has hired, but he saw no one extraordinary.

Until today.

He hears steps against the wooden floor of his studio, entering the place without knocking. 

"Ah, there he is!" A manly voice exclaims and Sunghoon immediately recognizes it as his friend's, Soobin. "I have someone to introduce you."

Sunghoon raises his gaze up from his working table and looks at Soobin who's accompanied by a beautiful, young woman. He's then suddenly interested, contrary to usual where he never really cares about the many girls Soobin brings, claiming each one as the new phenomenon of the fashion industry.

When Sunghoon turns around, he eyes you up and down, barely glimpsing in Soobin's way. It's all it takes, one simple glance and he knows you're the one he needs—the one he wants and has to ruin.

Soobin introduces you both and when your name is pronounced by the man, sounding so charming and delicate, he's certain you're the model he had been waiting for since a long time.

You seem shy, arms locked behind your back, but you stand up straight and have a polite smile drawn on your face.

"I thought maybe you'd like to get to know each other, right?" Soobin raises his eyebrows in Sunghoon's direction. "Everyone's fond of her," he smiles and pats your back, encouraging you to speak up.

"Thanks," you smile back at Soobin before glancing at Sunghoon who still hasn't looked away from you. "I'm a big fan of your work, Mr. Park. You've inspired me to become a model."

The way you say his name has his cock twitching in his pants, filthy thoughts of him spanking your butt as you cry his name invading his mind.

He can sense your vulnerability, your willingness to submit. Who would he be to deny you that? Him, who is so eager to dominate the ones he's attracted to, so eager to break but also repair them.

He knows it when someone's fragile, hiding their weaknesses under fake confidence. He doesn't know you, but he recognizes the pattern almost instantly. What can be broken can also be repaired and you're asking him to break you.

"I'm glad to hear that," Sunghoon says politely, a slight smile tugging on his lips. He's not the type to smile—stretch the corner of his mouth upward to imitate the person in front of him, he finds it shallow. But for you, he'll do it, just so you trust him, so desperate to give yourself to the opposite sex. 

"Park, you were wondering who'd be part of the fall show this year," Soobin begins, looking at you like you're the most irradiant ruby in the world. "Well, you have her in front of you." 

You chuckle softly at the man's words, nodding your head at him and then looking at Sunghoon as if waiting for some praises.

Sunghoon faintly smiles, seeing your eyes glimmering and he curses himself for not finding you sooner. You'd have been his by now, his to praise, his to kiss and fuck. His to destroy. But he swears, if he happens to break you, he'll gratefully keep you safe close to him.

๑♡՞

"Careful," Sunghoon softly says as he catches you up before you can fall to the floor. You let out a high pitched laugh, as if all of this is a big joke, and push him back with a hand on his chest.

"I'm fine," you answer, shrugging him off with a flip of your hand. You stagger from left to right, leaning against the wall when you almost stumble. You laugh it off again, halting your steps.

Sunghoon looks at you with a cringe expression, eyeing the people behind, sporting worried looks on their faces.

You all went out after the show; models, designers, directors, stylists... everyone. It wasn't your plan to get drunk, Sunghoon knows that because you're not supposed to drink alcohol during your diet. A glass from time to time isn't so bad, but your consumption clearly surpassed just a glass tonight.

It's not really your fault, though. Technically yes, since you're the one who swallowed all of the wine, but you had a little help.

A little help from Sunghoon himself.

When you weren't looking, he poured more alcohol in your glass and to his satisfaction you noticed nothing and gulped everything down. Sure, you got a bit suspicious, wondering how you had only drank so little when you remembered swallowing more than that.

But Sunghoon assured you it was only your first glass, so you drank, and drank, and drank... 

Until you were more than tipsy.

You've received nasty looks from your colleagues, especially the other models who weren't drinking a single drop of wine, and yet, still weren't awarded with the status of the 'face of Dior'. How ironic that the drunkest girl in the room was the face of Dior and the little protégée of Mr. Park.

"I'll... I'll bring her to our room, you can go out without us," Sunghoon announces, watching you sit down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

"Will she be okay?" 

"Of course. I'll take care of her."

He waits for everyone to be gone before he gets you up from the floor and leads you both to your hotel room. When you're in the room, he sits you down on the bed.

You don't say anything as he takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. He crouches down in front of you to remove your heels and he does the same with his shoes, leaving them by the entry.

When he comes back, he sees you quietly crying, the features of your face contorting into a sad expression. You've slightly sobered up, harshly coming back to reality, realizing how much you've embarrassed yourself tonight.

"What did I do?" You ask, looking up at him with teary eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Sunghoon sits down beside you, lifting your head up with his index under your chin and his thumb over it. "There's nothing that can't be repaired," he states in a soft voice, so low it sounds like a sweet whisper—a secret, a confession only you know. "Right?"

You sniff, wiping your tears away. You nod your head in agreement, slightly reassured, hoping Sunghoon will fix your mistakes. 

"Shh, baby, shh," he softly murmurs, cradling your head in his hands and gently laying your face against his chest. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tighter.

He strokes your hair delicately, placing a sweet and warm kiss on the top of your head.

Someone as vulnerable as you contains a lot of emotions. He has to deal with them, which doesn't bother him at all. He wants you the way you are; sad and pitiful.

"Everything's going to be fine," he promises, but it's not entirely the truth. Not everything will be fine, though it'll be in the end, he thinks—he hopes.

You eventually pull away from his embrace, just enough to look at him. It seems like you're searching for something or maybe waiting for something, your eyes desperately staring at Sunghoon as if his simple presence will make all of your problems go away.

You throw yourself at him and kiss him on the lips, fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He reciprocates it, knowing you like your kisses sloppy and messy, wanting Sunghoon everywhere on you to remind you that he's always there.

You bring him closer, wrinkling the material of his white shirt between your fists, moaning and whining as your teeth clash together at how roughly you kiss each other.

Sunghoon breaks your exchange first, both catching your breaths. His eyes observe you quietly as you look at him like you're still waiting for something.

"Did you do what I told you to?" He questions you, referring to your conversation of a few days earlier when you came to his studio to try on his dress.

You were a bit stressed out, putting on the clothing like you were scared you'd rip it. He still remembers the way the satin was sliding up your body, hugging your waist and ass perfectly. 

He was baffled at how incredibly well it suited you as if he had made it exactly for you.

And maybe it was made for you, after all.

Because when he saw his creation on you, he knew you had to wear it for the runway. It has to be you, he'll accept no one else.

Sunghoon will make you walk the runway wearing his dress—the last time you'll ever step on the catwalk. After that, he'll keep you away from the rest of the world. He'll refuse anyone to see you because you're going to be his.

His forever.

"Yes," you nod your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Tell me what you did," Sunghoon softly demands, holding your chin in his hand, mouths inches away from each other.

You're too shy to say it out loud and that's why he wants you to tell him. Also to be sure you did everything correctly, but mainly because he wants to see you embarrassed.

"I prepared myself for you..." you begin, holding eye contact even though you feel your face heating up just thinking about all the things you've done per his request. "I... I used lube both on me and... the toy," you continue in a shy tone, so low Sunghoon wouldn't hear you if he wasn't so close.

"Where on you, sweetheart?" He interrupts, wanting each detail, each little thing you normally wouldn't have done if it wasn't for him. 

You swallow, "On my ass, Sunghoon," you answer in a whisper. "I stretched it out for you, using the toy like you told me," you finally admit.

"Good girl," Sunghoon purrs. "Let me see it then."

You proceed to strip off of your dress, now used to be nude in front of him, and slide your panties down your thighs, discarding them away on the floor. 

You get back up on the mattress and position yourself on all fours close to the edge of the bed. Sunghoon stands up and goes behind you to have a closer look at your ass.

His veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, revealing your rim to his insatiable, sadistic eyes. You glance over your shoulder, curious of what he has in mind and what he has prepared for you. 

You softly gasp when he spits and lets the globe of spit drip down between your asscheeks, rolling over your puckered hole. You clench around nothing, relieved to have his attention, to finally feel his hands on you instead of the usual touch of yours. 

He sees that your ass is a bit more loose than the last time he saw it, but it still clearly needs more preparation to welcome his girthy cock—though it's not like he cares that much if you're prepped enough or not. 

He passes his thumb over your tight muscle, circling it and smearing his saliva over it. He wants to fuck it so bad, destroy it and do unbelievably violent things to you. Should he tonight? Should he show you his dark and evil side? 

He's choked you before—smacked your ass hard till you felt your skin stings, overstimulated you to the point your orgasms were just spasms passing through your body, fucked your throat while you were drooling all over yourself, and tied your legs and wrists together to restrict your movements. 

So fucking your ass can't be that bad, but the thing is Sunghoon wants it to be bad. He then wonders what would happen if the line is ever crossed. Would you endure it, would you defend yourself? Would you shut the fuck up and take it like you're asked to?

But you trust him so much—with all of your pathetic being—and he thinks you'd let him cross any lines he desires to. He probably already has crossed multiples, and being the poor girl that you are, you said nothing.

You truly are extraordinary. 

He gives a slight slap to one of your asscheeks, groping both of them after, feeling how soft and tender your flesh is. "You did good, sweetheart," he comments in a honeyed voice, "how about we play with it a little?" 

He lifts up a brow at you and you nod sheepishly, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. "Yes..."

"Great," he says in a low tone, running his hands one last time over your ass before going to take something from his suitcase. 

"What is it?" You question, your curious eyes landing on the small object he's holding.

Sunghoon brings the object to you, something made of metal, the end having the shape of a cone and a pink gem placed on the top. "A gift for my princess," he replies, opening the bottle of lube he brought as well. 

He applies some lube around your tight hole and on the butt plug, and carefully pushes the head of the toy in your ass. You gasp softly, feeling it slowly stretch you, sinking in gradually as Sunghoon holds your cheeks apart.

"Feels good, Sir," you moan, arching your back and pushing your butt closer to Sunghoon. 

When the plug is all the way in, the pink gem peeking out between your two globes of flesh, he smacks your other cheek, leaving his stinging handprint on you. 

"Is that so, dirty girl?" He wonders, gripping your hips and colliding his hips with your butt, sensing his bulge pulsing under his pants. "You like it when your little ass gets stretched out?" 

"I like everything you do to me," you say with a content sigh, pussy clenching around nothing as your ass gets used to the small butt plug. 

Sunghoon genuinely thinks he can't find better than you. You were so shy in the beginning, looking like a lost puppy wherever you went. You just needed someone bigger and older to show you the way—though you were too dumb, and still are, to realize he was leading you to the wrong path.

It's not like you seem to mind, anyway. 

After all, you both got what you wanted; you, male attention, someone to rely on and be protected by, and him, a woman to break and keep with him forever. 

He lets go of your hips to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather material out of the gold loop with the luxury Dior logo on it. He lets the two ends of the belt hang off, not bothering to remove it completely, and tucks the fly of his pants down.

He finally frees his cock from the confines of his boxers, springing up and slapping his stomach, the bit of pre-cum escaping from his tip dampening his shirt. 

"You're so good to me, princess," he praises as he wraps a hand around the base of his engorged cock, aching and begging to be nestled in your cute little pussy. 

His head pushes at your entrance, never fully entering, only teasing your hole and stimulating all of your sensitive nerves. He watches how his cock stretches your cunt, your walls expending to receive his bulbous tip and then closing down when he pulls out. 

"Sir, please, want more," you beg him, pushing your ass on him to have his dick back in you. You let out a little whimper when Sunghoon holds your hips in place, stopping you from wiggling your butt side to side against his thick cock. 

He hums and slaps your ass harshly, your skin burning after. "Want my cock in your needy little pussy, baby? Is that what you're crying for?" He asks, teasing even more by swiping the head between your pussy lips, a string of your arousal sticking to his angry tip. 

"Yes," you say back quickly and desperately, arching your back, literally presenting yourself to Sunghoon. "Been so good, don't I deserve it, Sir?" You softly murmur, still looking over your shoulder to see his gaze fixated on your quivering pussy, cock head sliding up and down over your sex. 

"You do..." He responds distractedly, licking his lips, his fingers touching the pink gem peeking out from your ass. You're always so good and obedient for him, he even wonders if you ever did something that genuinely pissed him off before. 

When he really sinks in, his head passing the barrier of your sweet pussy, he groans deeply, feeling your walls envelop him tightly. 

He bends his back over yours, running his hand up your spine, feeling all the little bumps of it until he reaches your neck and shoves your head against the mattress. 

You whine when he starts pounding into you, his girth stretching you out so well, leaving you panting and moaning loudly. His other hand holds your hip against his dick, fingers digging into your skin, leaving permanent marks on your body.

He already sets a hard and rapid pace—fucking is never soft or loving with Sunghoon, it's violent, long, and agonizing. It's a way to be himself, the real and dark version of himself he hides in public, and releases when he gets intimate with you. 

You surprisingly got accustomed to it, embracing it as if it was your destiny, the reason for your existence; to be his personal slut, the little toy he likes to play rough with. You've accepted it, like you had no other choice but to be fucked into oblivion by Sunghoon whenever he feels like it. 

"You like that, baby? Huh?" He growls, as if you're the disgusting one for liking the way he treats you, to be ravished and delighted to have his cock sliding against your walls. "You like it when I fuck you hard like this?" He repeats and grips your hair, pushing your head into the bed covers with more strength. 

You babble out something, voice caught in your throat, too out of breath to formulate a simple sentence. You then only nod, your cheek squished against the mattress, Sunghoon's hand still pushing down on your head. 

His mouth hangs open to let out heavy breaths and his eyes are focused on your face, watching the little translucent pearls fall on your face and onto the bed. Your pussy swallows all of him, clenching so tightly it has him groaning and saying profanities under his breath.

It's sick how it makes his cock so fucking hard, leaking so much pre-cum in you and twitching avidly by seeing you struggle to breathe. You hold the bed sheets between your fists, doing everything in your power to keep your ass up for Sunghoon and not slump down on the bed from the hard thrusts he's inflicting on you. 

He snaps his hips against your ass and the entirety of his length is covered in your wetness, a white ring made of your cream circling the base of his cock. 

His hand holding your head descends to your neck, enclosing it with his fingers. He squeezes a little, just a bit so you know who's in control, so you never forget Sunghoon controls you—controls your life and thoughts. 

With a grip on your hair, he brings your torso up, arched back against his chest. The material of his shirt sticks to your skin, covered in a thin layer of sweat. He continues to pound into you and as he holds you by the throat, he lewdly licks the side of your face in a long stripe. 

You shudder in desire, hair standing up on your arms. "You're my little whore, aren't you, baby?" His mouth is right beside your ear as he whispers the words to you, his lips touching your hair, damp at the nape of your neck. "So fucking compliant... You want to please me so badly like the slut that you are.”

His free hand that doesn't have a hold around your throat slides down your body, passing over your belly and reaching your puffy clit. The sharp zipper of his pants graces the flesh just under your ass, irritating your skin and making it itchy. You clench around him when his digits find your sensitive bud.

"Yes, want to please you, Sunghoon," you gasp, bucking your hips at the feeling of his rough fingertips on you. He grunts when you address him by his name, loving how it sounds on your tongue, so sweet and timid. 

He remembers the first time you moaned his name; you were sprawled across his expensive leather couch, blindfolded and hands attached together with his black tie. Intense for your first time with him, but it was also the last time he's ever been that gentle with you. 

It was when his cold fingertips graced the skin of your stomach that you let out a squeak followed by his name, said in the quietest moan. He had then stopped his movements and looked at your face, an expression of distress painted over your features. 

He had realized how frail and weak you actually were, needing your most important sense to be at ease. That's why he had blindfolded you, to show you how dependent you were on him, how impossible it was for you to live without someone to guide you. 

He pushes your jaw to the side so your lips can meet in a feverish kiss, wet tongues mingling together, drool dripping down from the corners of your mouth. He continues to ram his cock in your pussy, the sound of skin against skin resonating in the hotel room. 

He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper and close your walls around him once again. Your hands grip the material of his trousers, keeping him close and holding on to something because the hard cadence of his hip thrusts push you forward, breasts bouncing up on your chest. 

"Fuck," he curses and he suddenly stops, steadying his hips against your butt. You let out a whiny moan as Sunghoon lets go of your face and hips. 

You're sad to have your pleasure ripped away from you so hastily, but you don't have the time to complain, Sunghoon slipping out of your cunt and pushing you down violently on the mattress. 

You turn around on your back to see him unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it on the floor, revealing to you his beautiful chest and milky skin. He gets rid of his pants and socks after, finally removing his boxers, the only thing remaining on him being the watch crowning his right wrist. 

His cock glistens in your juices, more pre-cum leaking from his swollen tip and twitching avidly against his stomach. Even though him fucking you while being all dressed and you completely bare is a way to humiliate and degrade you, he also likes to be naked sometimes. 

He loves skin to skin contact, how your bodies stick together because of all the sweat coating you. It's addicting, it's rougher and it creates more friction—more pain. 

He doesn't mind being naked because he knows how to dominate you either way. He doesn't find it embarrassing, on the contrary, it makes him scarier and hungrier. While you shiver without your clothes on, curled up on yourself, Sunghoon is imposing, his cock thick enough to split you in half. 

He crawls back to you, hovering over you like a predator that has caught his prey, boring his eyes into yours. You look at him in awe, always waiting patiently. You feel his cock against your thigh, your hole pathetically quivering—missing his size terribly. 

He sneaks a hand between your legs and reaches the little pink gem, ready to get it out. "Take a deep breath, sweetheart," Sunghoon instructs and you inhale deeply.

He doesn't waste a second, pulling out the butt plug out of your ass. You scrunch your eyes shut at the pain, exhaling when it's done. There's still a bit of lube left on it and around your ass. He carefully sets it on the nightstand, coming back to you after. 

He bends your legs over your stomach and looks at your ass, just begging him to fuck it, shining with lube and arousal that leaked from your pussy. His cock is so close to it and Sunghoon could slide right in with one movement of his hips. 

He lets go of one of your legs to grip his erection, a little gasp escaping your lips when he presses the head of his cock at your tight hole, threatening to sink in. 

"Sir," you sigh, not sure if you're ready for that. It always burns no matter how good you prepped before and he knows that. That's why he's so tempted, staring so obsessively at your rim. 

Will it hurt you? Will you grip his biceps in an attempt to dissuade him? He wants to see those tears falling from your eyes again, he wants to lick them and tastes your pain. He feels more blood rush down to his cock at the mere thought of hurting you. 

Give him all of your pain, he'll fucking take it whole and cherish it. He wants it—he needs it. Accuse him of having a sick and twisted mind, accuse him of everything you've ever been hurt by because he'll gladly take the blame. 

"I know you can take it," he says in a low tone, glancing up at your face as he applies just a bit more force. "Can you, baby?" Sunghoon asks, waiting for you to admit how much you want it, how badly you want him to destroy you. 

"Yes..." You whisper back, a long shiver running up your spine as his eyes pierce through you. 

"Yes what? Tell me, sweetheart," he demands, and it's as if he doesn't care about your response whatsoever because the next thing he does makes you yelp in pain. 

His tip has entered you, the burning sensation forcing you to scrunch your eyes shut. 

"Yes, I- I can..." you stutter and as expected, you dig your nails into the flesh of his biceps, only fair to hurt him in return. "I can take your cock in my ass."

You take a sharp breath, eyes slowly opening, all watery and painful. Sunghoon groans at that, stuffing more of himself into you. "Good girl," he praises.

He stretches you out completely, his dick in no comparison to the toys you've used on you. You open your mouth as he pushes himself in gradually, tears streaming down your face when you blink. 

The tears roll down the side of your face and Sunghoon can't help but love the sight, leaning in to kiss your face and collect one of your tears, tasting the saltiness of it on his tongue. 

"Sunghoon!" You look at him with the saddest and most hurtful eyes. "It burns," you add in a quiet voice, now scratching his back, leaving long red trails on his skin. 

"I know, baby, I know," he softly murmurs in your ear, a husky moan leaving his mouth when he's completely nestled in you, balls touching your ass. "You're so tight, fuck," he sucks a breath through his teeth, not moving until he estimates he's waited long enough. 

He gives warm and wet kisses to your neck, going down to your collarbones and pawing at your breasts, slowly starting to move his hips. You lock your legs behind his back, wanting him as close to you as possible despite the pain he's inflicting on you. 

He loves knowing it hurts you because it makes it more pleasurable to him somehow. The pain will go away soon anyway, that's why he doesn't bother to stop or slow down. You have to get used to the feeling first. 

The choking, the hair pulling, the smacks... He keeps it for the bedroom, but he won't lie that there's a part of him that wants to ruin your life, ruin everything you've accomplished so far just so he can see those sad eyes of yours and hear you ask him for help out of desperation. 

It's not even sexual, he just wants to break you, that's all he desires. Though your life is something he wants to destroy, it's more of a way to have you dependent on him after. If your career is no longer successful, your solution is Sunghoon because he's the only person in your life capable of taking care of you both emotionally and physically. 

His teeth chew on the tender skin of your neck while his hand travels all over your body, many veins popping out along his strong arm. His finger gently circles your clit to make the pain more bearable. 

His hand that was roaming over your body comes to close around your throat and he turns his head to your side, lips brushing over your temple. "Yeah, just like that, baby," he mutters under his breath, his nose pressing down on your hair as he murmurs the words to you. "Just like that..." 

A choked moan is all that escapes your mouth. His hot breath hits the side of your face, his chest heaving rapidly while you claw at his back, white scratches appearing on his shoulder blades.

He sweetly kisses your temple as he pounds into you, not tightening his hand around your throat, just holding you in place—making sure you know that he’s always in control. 

Your tits slightly bounce up and down on your chest, little whines coming out of you each time Sunghoon bottoms out. It starts to feel good for you—really good—and you think that this pleasure is totally worth a bit of pain at the beginning. 

You grip the hair at the nape of his neck and bring him in for a kiss. He accepts it, kissing you back as if he wants to possess your whole mouth, biting and licking your lips. You moan into his mouth, twisting his hair between your fingers.

He pulls away from you, his full lips glistening in both of your saliva, and places his two palms on your boobs. He feels your perky nipples under his hands, just loving how plushy your breasts are, fitting perfectly in his palms. 

He keeps thrusting in you as he gropes your tits and you bring your hands over his, looking into each other's eyes. He lets out a low groan, holding eye-contact with you. 

You feel his veins under your palms, your pussy clenching around nothing but air while you run your hands all over his arms. You love to feel his pulsing veins under your fingertips.

"Sunghoon..." You moan his name, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his hard cock entering and exiting your tight hole. Sunghoon takes the opportunity to smooch over your neck again as you expose it to him, his lips pressing down on your throat. "I love it," you sigh pleasantly. 

He hums, the sound coming deep from his throat. He wants to hurt you, yes, but he likes it even more when you love the pain. He just knew you were exactly like him when he first saw you. He had the feeling that you needed someone like him, someone that'd push you to your limits and make you discover a new type of pleasure. 

And he was right because there's not one time where you told him to stop.

"My dirty girl," he purrs in response, bringing his lips up to your jaw. He slowly rolls your nipples between his fingertips, pinching and pulling on them. "You're stupid, but so, so good for me, baby.” 

He slowly halts his hip thrusts and he eventually pulls out of you. You gasp when he does so, already missing his cock stretching out your ass. 

Sunghoon raises himself up from you and gets out of the bed. His erection stands tall against his stomach, bouncing up as he walks to the front of the bed. 

You watch him getting away until he orders you to follow him. "Come here," he says softly and you don't make him wait. "On your knees," Sunghoon commands when you're facing him, sinking down to your knees. 

He places a hand behind your head and the other around the base of his dick, guiding the head of his cock toward your lips as he pushes down on your head. 

"Here, baby," he instructs in a low voice. "Take it in your mouth." You part your lips to welcome Sunghoon's length, his bulbous tip shining in pre-cum and your juices under the light of the room. 

He immediately moans when he enters the warmth of your mouth, his heavy cock sliding on your wet tongue. He doesn't let you have much control, pushing his dick in your mouth until your nose touches his pubic hair. 

You relax your jaw for Sunghoon, allowing him to stuff more of himself into your mouth. He looks down at you, watching at the way your lips wrap around him tightly, your eyes starting to water. 

He begins to fuck your mouth, forcing you to take him whole each time he bottoms out. He moves his hips back and forth, obsessed with the way his girth appears and reappears between your lips as he uses your mouth as he pleases. 

"Shit," he hisses when you hollow your cheeks, "you're a fucking cockslut, aren't you, baby?" He says breathily, his eyes not once leaving his cock penetrating your mouth over and over again. 

You whine around him, surely agreeing with what he said, sending vibrations throughout his entire body. He lets out a deep moan, your cheeks and eyelashes all wet because of your tears, eyes burning as Sunghoon fucks your throat roughly. 

"Stroke your clit," he manages to say between two heavy breaths. "You can get off by yourself, right? I know you're soaking wet just by letting me use that pretty mouth of yours," he mocks you, but he knows he's right. Whatever he does, your cunt is always dripping wet. 

You whimper again, doing what he told you to and sneaking a hand between your thighs to play with your pussy. You part your legs wider as you circle your clit with your finger, Sunghoon's hooded eyes lazily watching you playing with yourself. 

Your right hand is laying on his thigh while the other is operating between your legs, pleasuring yourself to the sounds of Sunghoon's moans and the feeling of his cock weighing down on your tongue. 

You do your best to breathe through your nose, swallowing around his length and flattening your tongue underneath him. Your juices drip down your inner thighs, your finger smoothly flickering over your sensitive bud.

The whole room is smelling like sex, an odour that Sunghoon can't ignore, loving it so much. Your lips glide so easily over his hard cock, completely covered in your spit and still some of your wetness, tasting yourself on him. 

"Ah, fuck," he curses, his head rolling back on his shoulders, eyes still strained down on you. He feels the familiar burning sensation at the pit of his stomach, indicating he's really close to his orgasm. "Go on the bed, baby."

You're taken aback, but you follow his order, pulling him out of your mouth and laying your back down on the mattress close to the edge. You beautifully moan when Sunghoon penetrates your pussy, bending your legs over your stomach. 

"Oh, god," you cry softly, being pounded onto the bed right away, tits moving up and down on your chest. 

His hands are positioned on each side of your shoulders, snapping his hips against yours so harshly it hurts. You keep doing circle motions on your clit, now faster and impatient to reach your high. 

You let out a high-pitched moan when Sunghoon suddenly steadies his hips over yours, dropping down to his elbows as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Holy fuck," he grunts, gripping the bed sheets tightly in his fists beside your head as his cock twitches in your cunt. 

"Yes, yes," you quietly exclaim, your orgasm passing through you, making you arch your back and buck your hips. 

Your pussy clenches repeatedly around him and he finally comes undone into you, shooting long, thick ropes of cum deep in you. When he slips out of you, more spurts out of his tip, landing on your pussy, covering you in his cum. 

He stays above you for some time, catching his breath and looking at the mess he made of you. 

Later, Sunghoon is in the shower, washing his hair and his body, passing a soft cloth soaked in soap over his chest. He lets the water fall over his head, wetting his black locks. He stays maybe a bit longer than normally, staring at the tiled wall. 

He thinks about you, about all the things he's planned. He revised everything in his head, imagining you walk on the podium wearing his dress, people looking at his piece with admiration in their eyes. 

He thinks about everything that will go down for you after the show, getting fired, losing your career and your fans. Many articles talking about your excessive use of alcohol and drugs, saying how tired and sad you look beside Sunghoon. 

You won't last long, you're too weak anyway. A downfall like this is unconquerable, nobody recovers from that, and surely not a model who will be thrown out of the industry as soon as you turn twenty-five. 

Sunghoon knows the industry, he's been in it for years now. He's aware of how cruel it is, how difficult and harsh it can be on fragile little girls like you. 

But that's why he's here, he'll take care of you once nobody will want you anymore. That's the goal, after all; you to be finally his—solely and completely. 

"Sunghoon?"

Your voice reaches him, turning his head in your direction, seeing you hesitantly entering the shower with him. He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you do, hugging him and laying your head down on his wet chest. 

"I love you, sweetheart," he softly murmurs against your hair. "I'll never leave you, you know that, right?" 

You nod your head, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. "I love you, too."

๑♡՞

The runway went incredibly well. Celebrities and journalists were all gathered for the fall show, totally amazed by every design and the models that were wearing them. 

But there was one specific piece that everyone was willing to say was the best. 

Sunghoon was satisfied to see that his name stood out amongst everyone else's, being mentioned more times than Dior itself. He predicted it; it was the creation that every guest remembered, the dress that the fans were only talking about. 

He'd take all the credit, he was the one who imagined it and then sewed it after all, but he has to admit that you contributed to the fame a lot. 

Being the beloved face of Dior only made people talk more about it and that was what Sunghoon needed. 

But every good story has an end, doesn't it? 

When Sunghoon comes back to his apartment, the place is silent except for the TV playing, as he thought it would be. You're looking through the window, the city draped in the dark, splotches of bright yellow light flashing in front of your eyes. You're sitting on the sofa, not even acknowledging his presence as he enters, getting rid of his shoes. 

You're not much of a talker since you've been fired from Dior a few days ago just after the fall show. He understands your wish of remaining silent, needing a bit of space to process everything that happened the past weeks in your head. 

It was going to happen soon or later anyway. You've been to your photoshoots completely drunk, sometimes just going in with a hangover, but of course it didn't help your case at all. 

Sunghoon was guilty for letting you drink alcohol so soon in the morning. No need to deny it, he was even the one dropping you off at work like that. Well, he had to do it if he wanted people to notice how far you've fallen. 

He doesn't feel bad, though. Your career wasn't going to last with or without Sunghoon's sabotage. He did you a favour. 

You can't handle being a model. If you could, none of that would have happened. You wouldn't have gained weight, you would have been suspicious of the amount of calories Sunghoon was feeding you. The bottles of wine wouldn't have been so tempting and smoking weed wouldn't have ever occurred to you as a good idea. 

You shouldn't be ashamed of it, sometimes things just don't work out like we would have wanted them to. 

"Did you see the article they wrote about me?" You ask, still looking outside. "You surely did, I bet that's all they're talking about..." 

He sits down beside you and you eventually turn around, facing him. You care so much about what others think of you. It must be so tiring having such a low self-esteem. He can only imagine it; seeing you look through the window like a sad puppy, your life finally making sense when Sunghoon comes home. 

"I did, but nothing of that matters to me," he answers, the most honest he's ever been. And even if he had to lie, it's not like you wouldn't have believed him. You always trust whatever he says. 

You don't reply, your head still filled with many thoughts. 

"Hey, come here," he softly tells you, patting his thigh. You straddle his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders. He cups your chin, forcing you to look at him as you keep avoiding his gaze. "Whatever they say, whatever their name is, nothing will ever be more important than you." 

Because who is he if he lets some article affect the way he sees you? He's known you since the beginning of your career and he stayed till the end of it. 

He knows you better than everyone else. He was with you during your highs and lows and he'll still be there for the next ones. There's nothing in the world that could make him leave you. After everything he's done to have you, there's no way he'll go away. 

How cowardly of him if he does. He can't leave when he's promised he'd heal you—close all of your past wounds and create other ones. He may be selfish, but there's one thing that he isn't and it's a fucking liar. He sticks to his words, and when he says he'll never leave you, that means he'll never, never abandon you—he'll never leave your side, not even once. He can't risk it.

[wonallofme]

„Pinching“ Pt.2 Ideas (long message sorry 🙈)

The next day Reader sees Hee with a other girl. It‘s not just a random girl, it‘s Jung Ara the IT Girl of the school. She‘s known for being a skilled cheerleader, for her good grades, her visuals and her lovely personality is the cherry on top.

It seems like that they’re becoming close and Reader starts to feel insecure (also very depressed), because just yesterday Hee toke her virginity and made her feel special. The time is passing by and reader realises that Hee is not worth of her time and that she‘s better than this. She‘s kinda getting the „Wizard Liz Mindset“ Priorities herself and taking more care of herself. Eventually she’s getting a glow up: the grades are getting better and better ( from C‘s to A‘s) Her skin starts to glow, she finds inner peace and overall is just happy and healthy. Now that all is getting ruined by Heeseung, he notices the changes and out of some reason he wants to destroy that. So he tries it with reader again but this time it’s a no no (recommending the song Mascara by XG fits good) While Heeseung is with Ara he can’t get Reader out off his head. He‘s imagining things with her now. Reader meets a new guy which happens to be an ass who just wants to manipulate Reader. Heeseung know this guy from the past and tries everything to warn the reader „He is no good for you“ „but you are?“ It‘s a heating conversation and he is starting to confess his feelings, getting on his knees starts to cry and beg reader to give him a second chance (I love to see men crying sorry, if that scene is cringe 💀) And yeha that‘s how I imagine pt.2

Thank you for thinking so much about pinching and even imagining this as a second part 😭

I like jealousy too so seeing that you tried to help reader change for the better (inner peace and happiness as you mentioned) is actually really nice, even kind of adorable ngl. Also, I have to admit, I love to see men crying and begging.

You've helped me kind of see what could happen but I think we both have different ideas haha (it's completely okay please dw, I appreciate your comment a lot anyway!)

So, what I've thought about goes a little like this:

In the first place he already gave her a lot of attention that you would have to be blind not to notice. Just in school, he would interact with her and try to touch her in every corner, whether it was pinching her cheeks, waist, or any other body part, he was touching her, and I feel no one dared to approach reader not only because they didn't want to become a target, but because she had become his, as his belonging or toy, there was a kind of possessive feeling Heeseung made sure everyone noticed.

I feel that after what happened in reader's house something changed inside Heesung's head. Yes, she was always his toy, but now she had stepped up to a different thing he can't pin point. The fact that he's now feeling pleasure from her, and that he doesn't mind her abusing him in private would make him closer to reader in a certain way. I feel he would follow his words and wouldn't be as hard on her as he was before, and he wouldn't look as if he was bullying her around anymore but he would still be there and when people asked him if you two were anything he would say no because he doesn't feel the need to put any label on you (before he would maybe call you his toy? Maybe piggy?) and he honestly doesn't give a fuck what other people think. Still, it's obvious you're letting him do something to you the others now can't see and even you feel a little confused of what happens when you're alone because he now pinches you (not too hard unless you're refusing him) and also fucks you.

So, I'll be real, I don't see him wanting any other girl. I feel he's found his satisfaction from you and if he tried to fuck any other girl it would be just because he feels like it (not because of appearance in public, he would do it only because well there's a gorgeous girl showing clear signals and he's like meh well) but he would quickly go back to you because what he likes is the sensation of owning you and what it feels like stability. I feel he was abandoned many times and that's why he's learned to not give a fuck about other people and he doesn't want to give a shit about you either but you coming back feels like oh, so they don't have to leave forever, they could come back and that unknown feeling (a mix of hope and fear) is what drove him to bully you to start.

So, yeah, the root of him bullying you is because it gives him power over you, ownership, and if you belong to him, you can't abandon him.

I feel the unlabeled relationship would continue as it is, he would feel like your owner and you would feel the need to run away.

You might start liking the sensation of hurting him during sex (I see you biting him, pulling his hair, just taking all your frustration on him) and you would start to wonder in what kind of sick situation you two are, receiving no clarification from Heeseung because he just shuts you up and tells you to stop bothering him with your shit.

Everything would continue like that until the inevitable arrived— School would finish soon (they're over 18 in my head nevertheless) and you would, once again, leave him.

That would be the only situation that would shake Heesung and would put him in your position of wondering well, what's next?

The only thing he knows is that he can't lose you again.

I don't see him going to college with you at all, but I see him around you anyway. I feel you would go to the furthest university ever, you would think that everything with him finally finished (slightly missing him tho) and that you were free but oh look Heesung follows you even to your new city and doesn't leave you alone whenever you're not at campus. I feel he would wait for you after class standing outside doesn't matter how long it took you, that way the first time you met again he would walk you home to see where you lived and you at first would think of not letting him see your place but there's something about seeing a familiar face in a completely new place that brings a comfort that you (because of something that happened that day) deeply needed and with doubtful steps you would guide him to that little safe space you used to have.

I feel that time you would have sex again but it would be a different kind of it. Like, he would feel you don't need to be trapped in his hold to stay next to him and you would feel there's someone waiting for you, willing to keep you company in that new scary place (let's not forget too, you have a deep trauma with change now because of what happened) that you would just ignore that that person is Heesung.

[wonallofme]

I just read „pinching“ and I love it sm. Call me weird but I general I love fictional bully enha and that mixed with enemies to lovers? Yup I‘m in 😩

(Even though I‘m not sure if it went from Enemies to lovers. I know reader and Heeseung were enemies at the beginning but now..? They aren’t completely enemies anymore but also not lovers)

Btw are you going to write a pt.2 on it 👀

if yes I‘ve got some ideas 🫡

byeee

I'm not sure what they are if I'm honest. Like, I don't think they can be categorized as enemies or lovers in any way because reader wanted to be her friend and then she just wanted him to leave her alone, which don't feel like enemy because if it was that kind of relationship she would've fought, and he didn't see her as an enemy either, if not, at most, a toy?

Also, sorry but I don't really do second parts, I feel I suck at them, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to read your ideas because I'D LOVE TO!!!

Thank you for reading and reaching, bye! 🩷🩷🩷

[wonallofme]

Baby please do a second part of pinching! pleeeeeeease

Sorry but I don't write second parts because 1. I feel I ruin the story and 2. I end up quickly moving from one concept to another 😭

I could answer little ideas people have related to the fic, and these could contain smut parts but i wouldn't call them second parts because I wouldn't make them as long or as elaborated as the first one.

Still, thank you for reading! 🩷🩷🩷