enhypen lover @deobitifull - Tumblr Blog

ragebait ─ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

𓊆박성훈 x fem reader𓊇 💌 titplay, nipple play, making out, groping, dirty talk, teasing, it's implied sunghoon has bigger chest than reader...

𓆩♡𓆪 omg you guys looooveeee breastplay haaaahhh... thank you for the ask!! hopefully it's what you want mwa ^3^

sunghoon is the most annoying person you know.

he’s your classmate that sits behind you in lectures, always poking your back with the back of his pen just to annoy you, stealing your notes “by accident”, setting you up by saying out loud that you have a question for the professor, and the one thing he does that pisses you off the most—him grinning like an idiot when you glared at him.

and now you were paired together for this assignment.

janiary

‘𝑻𝒊𝒍 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝑫𝒐 𝑼𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 ⟡ 𝓅.𝓈𝒽 ℰ 𝓈.𝒿𝓎

pairing ⟡ vampire!sunghoon x f!reader & husband!jake x f!reader

summary ⟡ Despite the night terrors that have haunted you for years, you’ve achieved everything a God-honouring woman should want: a husband who loves you dearly, a white picket fence, and the certainty of a perfect future together in your new quiet little town. However, a certain pale-faced neighbour reminds you a little too much of the eerie presence that plagues your restless nights.

18+ mdni ⚠︎ smut with plot, gothic horror/thriller, angst, hurt/comfort, small town au, established relationship (jake), vampire/human relationship (sunghoon), implied major character death, religious imagery & trauma, bible quotes, traditional gender roles & marriage, purity culture critique, loss of faith, slightly patronizing partner dynamic, night terrors, ambiguous ending, sexually repressed reader, infidelity, soul bonds, mildly obsessive love, dubcon: sexual coercion (via soul-contract), biting, blood drinking, physical restraint, vampire venom as aphrodisiac, animal death mentioned, predator/prey dynamic, multiple smut scenes, p in v sex, unprotected sex, handjobs, fingering, loss of virginity, slight somnophilia, dacryphilia, choking, rough sex, praise kink, mild degradation kink FEAT. niki as a vampire lore-obsessed teen

wc ⟡ 31.6k

inspo & creds ⟡ thank you so much to my lovely mutual @seongjesdoll who inspired me with their fic right here please go read it! this fic is also heavily inspired by Nosferatu.

a/n ⟡ this is very different from what I usually write but I adored experimenting with horror/thriller as a genre! this idea hit me like a truck months ago. this has been in the works for a while so I’m soso glad to finally share

please note ⟡ if you are uncomfortable with heavy subject matter such as dubcon, horror, death, themes of religion and purity culture… do not read this!

You wait for him. Curtains drawn back, the window open. The winter air slips through the gap, cold enough to make you shiver in your nightgown, but you remain there, facing the open night. You wait the way you used to wait—on your knees, on the floor, praying for something that God refused to give you. Down the hall, Jake lies in the guest bedroom. The room you'd once hoped would become a nursery. It seems like a distant dream now, a life that belonged to someone else. You'd moved him there before the sun had set, his body heavy, unconscious, and blissfully unaware. He doesn't know what you're about to do. You hope he never will. When the silhouette appears, it's almost a relief. He steps through the parted curtains, and the moonlight reveals him. He's too pale, too still, his dark eyes already fixed on you before you've even found your voice. He's beautiful. He's always been beautiful, and you hate that he is. It would be so much easier if he were grotesque—if his skin were rotting flesh and his eyes were hollow and vacant pits belonging to something long dead, you could recoil. You could run. Instead, you stare, almost forgetting your true intentions for a moment. "Now, this brings back memories." He looms over you, unmoving. His eyes drift to the bed, where your husband is absent. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" "You're killing my husband." He doesn't flinch. Of course he doesn't. He stands there in the center of your bedroom, hands at his sides, and regards you with an expression that teeters on amusement. "Believe me." His gaze drops to your throat, to the cross trembling against your collarbone. A faint smile tugs at his lips. "I would much prefer to have you." There's a silence before you scoff. "Taking the life of the man I love won't make me want you." "Indeed, it won't. You already want me. Yet foolishly, you continue to deny yourself." He is silent for a moment as he watches you clutch helplessly at the cross at your neck. "Look at you. You waited here. Alone, in the dark, to face something that could destroy you in seconds. And you still clutch that thing." His lips curls into a frown. "As if God could ever save you." He takes a few steps forward, leaning down until his lips are at your ear. "But you're a smart girl. You know that He can't." He says, leaning down. One hand reaches for your chin, lifting it to properly meet his gaze. "That's why you prayed to me instead." "I prayed to God." You hiss. "And as always, God did not answer." He drops your chin. Then he moves past you, toward the window. His fingers brush the curtain, and he looks out at the dark street, the bare trees, the distant glint of the river just visible beyond the rooftops. "I was once like you." He says, "I prayed. I prayed for her to heal. I prayed every waking hour at her bedside." His wife. You assume that's who he means. You think of the house he keeps tidy in her memory, the piano that stays tuned for her, but you don't ask. His tone tells you the grief is old, smoothed by the centuries past, no longer a wound but a scar. You swallow the bitter taste in your throat. Selfishly, you dislike the idea of him loving anyone else. The thought is irrational, and deeply shameful, but it surfaces before you can push it back down. "Please do not fret, my love." He says it all too quickly, as if he sensed the shift in you before you felt it yourself. "It was a very long time ago." You open your mouth to protest but the words die on your tongue. He's looking at you with that quiet, knowing expression, and you realize there is no point in lying to a creature who can read your emotions before you've even named them.

"You will say yes because you have been starving for as long as you can remember. Because you have tried to fill that hunger with prayer and penance and the body of a man who loves you but cannot understand you. Because you knelt at your window and begged for relief, and I am the only one who has ever offered it to you. I am the only one who can give it to you." His fingers brush your jaw. Feather-light. "So, go on." He nods, "Tell me what you want." "I want you to leave Jake alone." You hiss. It only makes him grin. You expect nothing less. "And what else?" "I want you to stop making me feel like this." "How do you want me to do that, exactly?" You open your eyes. He's so close now. Your body is trembling—not from the cold, not from fear, but from the unbearable, humiliating effort of holding yourself back. Your thighs press together beneath your nightgown, a needy, restless friction that does nothing to ease the ache. Your pulse hammers in your throat. Between your legs, you're soaked. You've been soaked since he stepped through the curtains. Every inch of you is screaming for relief. Every inch of you has been screaming for years. It's not really a choice. If you pull away, you're letting your husband die and spending the rest of your life mourning a man you loved but couldn't save. Regardless, your body doesn't want to pull away. It made its own choice the moment you knelt at your window all those years ago. Everything since then has been the long, torturous process of coming to accept it. The prayers. The shame. The dreams you woke from, wet and wanting. All of it leading here. To him. "I want you to touch me," you whisper. The words come out ragged, half a sob, half a plea. "I need you to relieve me from this torment. I can't—I can't take it anymore. Please." His hand tightens just barely at your throat.His hand rests at your throat, cool and steady. His touch remains ever patient, and his eyes flicker from yours to your neck like he cannot decide which is more precious to him in this moment. "Say it properly." And you do. "I give you permission. My blood. My body. My soul. Take it. It's all yours. It's always been yours." He exhales—a shuddering, both reverent and ravenous sound.

"If only you could smell yourself right now." His voice comes out rough, almost like a growl, "Your terror, your desperation. Your arousal." He lifts you in a single, clean sweep, as if you weigh no more than a feather. Your feet are off the ground, your body helpless in his grasp, and you don't have the time to react as he throws you down on the marital bed with a force that knocks the breath from your lungs. You barely have time to register the impact before his body is over yours. His knee rises between your thighs, spreading you open beneath him and his hand fists your hair, tilting your head back, baring your throat to the moonlight and his teeth. His gaze drifts down the length of your body, catching on the way your nightgown has ridden up your thighs, on the rise and fall of your chest. He leans forward. "My stubborn, sinful girl. You were never meant for heaven." His fangs press against your pulse, not yet sinking in, but with enough pressure that it makes your breath catch and your body go rigid beneath him. "You were always meant for me." One hand grips your throat, fingers digging into the flesh just beneath your jaw, holding your head in place with a force that borders on bruising. The other rests over your heart, palm flat, enough to feel the frantic rhythm. "So fearful that nobody could love you in the dark, when I have loved you for years." His fangs sink into you, and a cry is torn from your throat, gasping into the dark and your body arches into him without your permission. The sounds he makes are equally as ungraceful and unrestrained— a growl that sounds like it belongs to an animal, a groan that sounds so guttural and almost pained, as if tasting you after all this time is a relief so profound it hurts. You writhe beneath him, but his body holds you steady, his grasp so harsh that it's sure to bruise. The pull of his mouth is rhythmic, hypnotic, each draw of your blood sending a fresh wave of heat spiraling through your core. You are dizzy with it. You are alive with it. You are his, and you have always been his, and the acceptance of that truth is the single most liberating thing you have ever felt. Disgust is a distant flicker, extinguished before it can catch. The pain is already gone. In its place, a pleasure so sharp and bright it borders on agony races through your veins. You shake with it, every inch of you raw and exposed, the sheets a torment against your feverish skin. Your hands find his back and hold on, clawing at his shirt. "What is—?" Your voice is a whiny, pathetic sound, piercing through heavy, laboured breaths. The ache between your legs from before is now throbbing with a sort of want you couldn't even begin to describe. Something unnatural, feverish and all-consuming. "Why do I feel like—?"

He obliges without a word. Your panties are eased down your thighs, the cold air a brief shock against your overheated skin, and then he finds you—slick and aching and desperately ready. A single, long finger slips inside with no resistance at all, and the sound that escapes you is almost a sob. You might cry from just that alone, graciously accepting any kind of touch at this point. You might already be crying, though you don't have the sense to think about it. You're lost in the sensation, clenching around him, your hips rolling forward of their own accord, chasing more. "It feels so much better when you give in." His voice is soft, almost crooning, as his finger moves inside you with excruciating slowness, a rhythm designed to tease rather than satisfy. "When you stop denying yourself." A frustrated sound catches in your throat. Your hips lift, chasing his hand, and he hums in quiet approval. Then a second finger slides in beside the first, stretching you, and the cry that escapes you is louder than before. Your head falls back against the pillow. Your fingers twist in the sheets. And then his fangs are at your throat again—a sharp, searing sting that melts almost instantly into heat. He drinks as his fingers move inside you, a slow, devastating counterpoint: the pull of his mouth, the thrust of his hand, the weight of his body pinning you to the mattress. You are caught between pleasure and surrender, and you have stopped caring which is which. "My sweet little sinner." He pulls back just enough to speak, his lips stained, his breath cool against the wound he left behind. His fingers curl inside you, finding a place that makes your vision blur. "What would he think if he saw you like this? His fragile, innocent wife, offering herself to a monster, begging for more." He thrusts deeper, and your back arches off the bed. "Would it break him? Would it shatter that pure, simple love he carries for you?" The tears come before you can stop them, spilling down your temples and into your hair. A sob tears free, raw and ugly, and you shake your head against the pillow. "No?" His voice is soft, almost tender. His thumb traces your cheek, smearing the tears there. "Use your words, my love." "I don't care." The words rip out of you, jagged and desperate, louder than you intended. Your hips are still rolling against his hand, chasing the climax he keeps just out of reach. "I don't care what he thinks. I just want this." You feel the pressure building, the tightening in your belly, rushing toward the edge faster than you can outrun it.

He releases you to tear at his own clothes. His shirt. His pants. Then he is bare above you, and the sight is almost too much—the blood on his mouth, the pale plane of his chest, and his eyes, how they devour the sight of you whole, looking at you in all your filth and finding you holy. "I'm going to ruin you." You feel the tip of him at your entrance, and your body stiffens. His eyes hold yours, dark and depthless and full of terrible tenderness. "Just like you begged me to." He sinks into you in one slow, devastating thrust, and your mouth falls open on a sound that might be his name, but before it can escape, his lips find yours. He swallows your cry the way he swallowed your blood, consuming it, claiming it as his own. His tongue sliding against yours, and you taste your own blood on his lips. His mouth never leaves yours, as if he would drink every sound you make, as if there is no part of you he does not intend to devour. You start to cry. Not because it hurts. Not because you're being ruined, though you are, though you've wanted to be. You cry because it's better than your dreams ever were. Because every fantasy you spent years repenting for, every shameful vision that drove you to your knees at the window, was a pale shadow of this. He pulls back to look at you, and the expression on his face is rapture. His hand is wrapped around your throat, holding you steady for each forceful thrust, pinning you to the mattress, to the moment, to him. The rhythm of his hips is relentless and perfect. Every drag of him inside you eases the ache you've carried for so long it has become a part of you, and at the same time deepens it, feeds it, stokes it into something insatiable. The venom only heightens the feeling—pleasure easing your hunger, each stroke pushing you closer to an edge you no longer want to escape. He is the most beautiful creature you have ever seen. You think it without flinching. You think it while tears stream down your temples and into your hair, while your body arches to meet his, while you give yourself over to the monster who answered when God wouldn't. He is beautiful. He is yours. You are his. And you have never felt less like pretending otherwise. He fills you in a way your husband never could. It's terrible and entirely the truth. You have spent weeks trying to use Jake as a remedy—his body, his love, his gentle, faithful hands—and it worked, for a few hours at a time. But the hunger you carry was never something he could satisfy. He was never meant to. That was never the deal you made. This is what you bargained for. What you knelt at the window and begged to feel. You lose yourself in the rhythm of him. The thick, unrelenting drive of his cock. The weight of his body pinning you to the mattress. The way he takes and takes and takes, and still watches you like you are something sacred. His dark eyes hold yours with something that looks like awe. Something that looks like devotion. Something that looks, impossibly, like love. If you even believe that a creature like him can feel love. Though love is the furthest thing from your mind right now. "That's it." His voice is a low growl, rough with pleasure and hunger and the effort of holding himself back. "Cry for me. Let me see you fall apart."

Your nails rake down his back. Your thighs tremble around his hips. The tears are still falling, streaming into your hair, but you don't hold them back. You don't try to hide. You let him watch. You let him see all of it. The surrender, the pleasure, the relief at last. You finish, your high crashing through your body in pulses that leave you gasping, clenching around him, your back bowing off the bed. You cry out his name, and he groans as he feels you break around him, his rhythm faltering for just a moment before he drives deeper, harder, more. You barely have time to come down before his fangs find your throat again. The bite is sharp and sweet, and the venom floods your veins anew—reigniting the fire that had just begun to go out, pulling you back toward the edge you just tumbled over. "More," you plead. The word is raw, scraped clean of pride. "More." He gives you more. He gives you everything. And you take it all of it with your eyes open and your soul laid bare beneath him. More. More. More. The night folded in on itself, a long, delirious rhythm of hunger and satiation, of teeth and hands and the slick press of bodies moving together in the dark. He would drink until you grew faint, then pull back, laving the wound with a tenderness that made your chest ache, and wait for your eyes to flutter open, for your hips to lift in silent, desperate invitation. And then he would begin again. You lost count. It didn't matter. Time had become a thing that happened to other people. You remember, dimly, the sound of your own voice sobbing his name into the hollow of his throat. You remember the weight of him, the cold press of his skin slowly warming with each swallow of your blood. You remember his mouth tracing the length of your collarbone, his fingers mapping the dip of your waist, his voice murmuring things against your flesh. The window stood open through all of it. The curtains drifted. The winter air slipped in, cooling the sweat on your skin, but you never felt cold. You felt nothing but him. Nothing but the slow, spreading heat of the venom and the terrible peace of finally letting go.

swiftjay23

CALL ME MAYBE? -> lee heeseung's favourite enemy!

You came back for summer. You got him instead. Sun, salt, and scandal, Jeju’s elite playground is back in session, and so is your favorite mistake: Lee Heeseung. Your enemy. Your almost. Your what-if. One house apart. One argument away. One drink too many from disaster.

pairing: enemy!heeseung x reader !

warnings: yearning slow burn strong language possessiveness jealousy alcohol banter secrecy angst parties rich people (yes, that's a separate warning) loads of sexual tension porn with plot enemies to lovers childhood rivals friends with benefits mutual pining unresolved tension emotional constipation family friends beach-town drama arguments miscommunication fear of commitment

warnings (smut): Multiple explicit sex scenes Enemies -> friends with benefits → Lovers Rough unprotected sex (no!) Creampie Tit/nipple play Fingering Handjob Grinding Teasing Wall sex Door sex Kitchen counter sex Manhandling Dirty talk Cum play Overstimulation Marking & biting

playlist: Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen [] Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift [] Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter [] Are You Bored Yet? by Wallows []

likes and reblogs for a cookie!

☆ WORD COUNT: 29k!

(Masterlist)

Sam: happy birthday to me, love u dada

HELL HAD A VERY SPECIFIC SMELL.

Not sulfur. Not smoke. Not whatever dramatic nonsense poets liked to compare suffering to, or any of the bullshit propaganda movies liked to spread.

jongst4r

practice makes perfect — park jongseong

in which jay gives you lessons on how to get (and fuck) jake sim.

synopsis: when your crush on jake sim turns into full-blown panic about your complete lack of experience, your best friend suggests the one person on campus who can help: jay park — the dangerously attractive, notoriously skilled senior with a reputation for being an incredible teacher.

what starts as innocent lessons in flirting, kissing, and confidence quickly spirals into something much hotter… and much more complicated. because the more jay teaches you how to drive jake crazy, the more you realize you only want him touching you.

pairing: jay x fem!reader (x jake)

wc: 34.6k

warnings: smut! light fluff and angst

cw: college au, love triangle, mutual pining, slow burn. themes of virginity, virginity loss, sexual inexperience, anxiety about intimacy. mentions of alcohol. explicit sexual content (kissing, making out, dry humping, handjob, blowjob, p in v, unprotected sex.) heavy flirting and sexual tension, playful teasing, use of petnames, strong language.

a/n: even though today is my birthday, i wanted to be the one giving you a gift. so... yeah, here you go, the longest fic i've ever written. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did while writing! <3

the bass hums low through the crowded living room, a warm pulse that vibrates under your skin as you lean against the kitchen counter, half-hidden behind a cluster of red plastic cups.

the party is the usual saturday chaos — too many people crammed into this frat house off campus, bodies swaying and bumping into each other under the dim string lights someone messily hung on the ceiling. laughter spills over the music, loud, while the faint smell of cheap beer, cheap vodka, and even cheaper perfume hangs thick in the air, mixing with the occasional scent of cigarette smoke drifting in from the backyard. red cups litter every surface, and the floor already feels sticky under your sneakers from whatever got spilled earlier.

but your eyes stay fixed across the room, unable to look anywhere else, like some invisible string keeps pulling your gaze back no matter how much you tell yourself to stop.

hoonkitti

tutor ─ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

𓊆박성훈 x fem reader𓊇 💌 incest, dry humping, heavy petting, making out, dirty talking, slight manipulation, non proofread

𓆩♡𓆪 spin-off of sugarglass ₊˚⊹ ᰔ also this ask! thank you so much~ and i hope it's like what you want ;") i tried to make it more fitting for sunghoon's character in the fic!

“you see this number here?” sunghoon said gently, his voice low so it wouldn’t carry outside your bedroom. his slender finger tapped lightly on the exercise book. “yeah, you have to bring it forward when you’re factoring. like this…”

he wrote the next step nearly in his clean handwriting, then slid the pen back to you. his arm brushed yours in the process, warm and familiar. you nodded, cheeks a little warm.

hoonguin

kiss it better ✿ ⁠ . ۫ · 박성훈

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎written for the heart’s mailroom event ! ༊

✷ your boyfriend, park sunghoon, won’t tell you what’s wrong, so you take it upon yourself to make him feel better !

pairings ⸝⸝ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎older!bf!sunghoon ✿ f!rea ‎ ‎ ✉️‎ ‎ ‎ wc ⸝⸝ 10.8k

🗯️ 内容‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ explicit sexual content ♫ 18+ ⸝⸝ intended for mature audiences | minors do not interact ᯓ established relationship, emotional vulnerability, teasing, heavy kissing, cosplay themes, petnames, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, creampie !

໑ part 1 | part 2

EL’S ✷ BUBBLE : ouuhh shi is that .... mask girl part 2 !!?! goodness this took me a whole ass year and i thought this would be one of the last few things i'd finish but damn this is literally just 6.4k words of smut (i'm sorry this shit was nasty asl 🥀 mbmb) . . . (´。＿。｀) this request, thank you so muchi ! on my life the other ones won't be super half-assed ! :b

It had been a year and a half since you impulsively fucked your neighbor.

Let's rewind.

Park Sunghoon, unit 109. You, unit 110. He'd been living there longer than you, had the place before you even moved in, had been a fixture of the hallway and the elevator and the building's quiet ecosystem since well before you became a part of it.

nisc0

yk what'd be so hot

Jake usually moves through the house like a ghost, his "virgin nerd" persona defined by hunched shoulders and a nervous stutter that keeps the boundary between step-siblings firmly in place. However, behind closed doors, that awkwardness sharpens into a terrifyingly precise fixation, proving that his role as f-reader quiet step-brother was merely a mask for a deeply calculated hunger. When the tension finally snaps, the transformation is jarring; his stutter vanishes, replaced by a low, steady command and a raw, dominant intensity born from years of observing f-reader from the periphery of the family dynamic. This isn't about the hesitation of a novice, but a heavy-handed control where his intelligence is used to dismantle f-reader composure, turning years of repressed proximity into a rough, unapologetic claim.

────#GOOD BOY────

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!jake 𝓍 f!reader 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : college AU, smut (MDNI), porn with plot 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : they are both 20, fake nerd!jake, voyeurism, stalking, obsessive behaviour, jealousy, manhandling, masturbating, edging, filthy talk, oral sex (m. receiving), grinding, degradation, use of nicknames : baby, angel, good girl, face fucking 𝐰𝐜 : 8.5k

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ──── (specific order)

♫ An Eater - Matt Martians ♫ Freak - Doja Cat ♫ Need To Know - Doja Cat ♫ Love Potion - BJ Lips ft. princess paparazzi ♫ Killshot (Slowed + Reverb) - Magdalena Bay ♫ What You Need - The Weeknd ♫ Don't Run - PARTYNEXTDOOR ♫ Haunted - Beyoncé ♫ All Mine - PLAZA

📎- this was so fun to work on, i think it's one of my fav request so far :)) it has been sitting in my drafts for so long omg. I will probably make a PART 2 of you guys want it and since I paused my Jay ff (I’m procrastinating and might drop it guys). Enjoyyy :)

enplicit

Must be a cannibal, fucking me like an animal. Balls hit my pussy like cannonball

ENHYPEN NSFW twitter links

Sunghoon × fem.reader | Dead Dove Do Not Eat I repeat DDNE | Sunghoon is your step bro idgaf it’s for the plot | MDNI I must be logged into X to view videos

This is also a hentai link lmao so if that’s not for you, then don’t watch but if you can read you don’t need me to tell you that. Also not gonna be like your typical post, I just need to get this off my chest

bunhrtd

𝗔+ 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 ' 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋, 𝗃𝖺𝗄𝖾, 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 “𝗋𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾,” 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝖠+.

ᦸ 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖻𝗈𝗒!𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝗄𝖾 🧁 𝖻𝗂𝗆𝖻𝗈!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ‎ ‎ 1.9k ⠀˃̵ᴗ˂̵⠀ power dynamic (teacher/student) NSFW dubcon spanking degradation overstimulation slight bondage ㅤ reblogs&kisses

You’re fixing your lip gloss in the reflection of Jake’s borrowed your calculator, your attention completely lost on the cherry-pink shine instead of the math worksheet sitting untouched in front of you.

“Baby,” he murmurs, leaning back in his chair with that lazy grin that gets him out of trouble far too often, “you look fine.”

You blink at him, doe-eyed.

“Really?”

Jake almost laughs at how serious you sound. "Yeah, really. Wouldn't say it if it wasn't true." His hand snakes out, fingers catching your chin before you can react. "But pretty faces don’t pass tests."

You giggle because compliments make your brain go fizzy, and he leans over and kisses you once, soft and lingering, like he’s rewarding you for being cute. When he pulls back, his thumb smears your lip gloss across your bottom lip.

"Now," he says, tapping his pencil against your notebook, "are we gonna pretend to study, or am I wasting my time here?"

icupsaki

miniskirt

synopsis: the four times you failed trying to flirt with your boss, and the one time he actually reciprocated.

pairing: boss!lee heeseung xf!reader

genre: modern au, office au, co-workers to lovers/boss x employee

cw: fluff, crack, smut, piv (unprotected), face-fucking, semi-clothed sex, rough sex, dryhumping, shoe-licking (ew), spanking, degradation, brat tamer!heeseung, power dynamics, petnames (use of good girl), light bondage, y/n is lowkey embarrassing/has zero shame whatsoever and just wants the heedih

word count: like 12k

this was lowkey inspired by miniskirt by aoa hence the name hehe😮

MDNI

lac4ygal

KRAZY RICH KOREANS a 양정원, 이희승, 박성훈 fanfiction

chapter 002 - FASHIONABLY LATE | 5.5k words

featuring; yangjungwon x leeheeseung x parksunghoon x female!reader

warnings! murder, assassination, violence, blood, alcohol consumption, power imbalance, possessive behaviour, jealousy, fingering, oral sex, penetrative sex, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, degradation, possession, jealousy, complicated relationship dynamics, attachment issues, obsessive/controlling behaviour

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LEE HEESEUNG

He is never on time.

This is not carelessness. Heeseung has not been careless about anything since he was seventeen years old and found a folder in his father’s study that he was not meant to find and sat on the floor of that room for forty minutes reading it and then put it back exactly as he found it and went to dinner and ate and said nothing. Carelessness is for people who can afford the consequences of it. Heeseung cannot afford consequences. He manufactures them for other people.

Being late is a choice.

It is a choice about information — when you arrive after the room has settled you can read the whole of it in thirty seconds. Who is talking to whom. Who has had too much to drink. Who is performing ease and who has it. You walk in and the room adjusts to you and in the adjustment you learn everything about it that you need.

He learned this from his father.

lac4ygal

fic taglist: @citymare @02shuuu @woniescheeks @fancypeacepersona @m-wraith96 @vmpiricou @fixonfairy @deobitifull @yangwonforl1fr @starry-eyed-bimbo @amivine @kikizzz0 @chuuyaobsessed @simjyyyun @desirxriki @dheimyoung-im24 @kjunebuggie @jiii11 @zoe1love @chanchamm @wnqls @kssquad ++ ask for a tag 🏷️

gureumz

got room(ies)?

rating: explicit

members/groups: euijoo (&team), jaehyun (boynextdoor), jungwon (enhypen)

words: 7.1k

premise: all good things come in threes. the holy trinity. third time's the charm. peter, paul, and mary. your three roommates willing to help you experience how REAL, pleasurable sex feels like.

notes: fem!reader, roommate au, multiple partners, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap ut b4 u tap it plz), voyeurism, exhibitionism, multiple orgasm, reader has prior shitty sexual experience

a/n: inspired by this post i made some months back. also shoutout to @cheolscherries1812 for their original comment on the post about leaders 🫶🏻 i started this in hopes that it would eliminate my writer's block BUT IT DIDN'T but it's here now, and i'm very proud of it, and i'm slowly getting back to writing. appreciate your patience and support for all of my work across all of my blogs!!! also, if this is reminiscent of my older works, then...;)

it should be a quiet friday evening for you, all things considered.

you had gotten off work, came home to dinner lovingly prepared by euijoo, kicked jaehyun’s ass in mario kart, and received an unprompted but well-appreciated shoulder rub from jungwon. it was shaping up to be a good start to your weekend, a smooth transition into two days’ worth of rest.

that was, until jaehyun suggested the four of you have a few rounds of drinks. rarely do you ever get together as a complete unit of four, considering everyone’s hectic schedules, and this was exactly what jaehyun used to rationalize his little idea as he gathered the shot glasses and raided the apartment’s not-so-secret stash of alcohol.

euijoo and jungwon seemed down for it, too. the snack drawer was emptied and dumped on the carpeted floor of the living room, and before you knew it, the four of you were gathered in a circle, mixing vodka with the monstrous stock of mountain dew that jungwon of all people kept in one of the cupboards.

but the drinks turned into jokes, and the jokes turned into dares, and the dares turned into an impromptu game of never have i ever.

lac4ygal

KRAZY RICH KOREANS a 양정원, 이희승, 박성훈 fanfiction

chapter 001 - RINGSIDE | 4.5k words

featuring; yangjungwon x leeheeseung x parksunghoon x female!reader

warnings! implied sex, making out, kissing, smoking weed, alcohol consumption, complicated relationships, attachment issues, power imbalance undertones, possessive behaviour, tension, male gaze

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YOU

You hear him in the shower.

The particular sound of Sunghoon being somewhere — running water, a cupboard closing, the low hum of something he doesn’t know he’s doing. You lie in his sheets and listen to it and look at the ceiling and feel the morning come in through the gap in the blackout curtains, one thin line of Seoul light cutting across the room like it has somewhere to be.

His bedroom is the same as it always is. Dark wood, cream sheets, the specific order of a person who grew up with staff and absorbed their standards without noticing. Everything in its place. Everything expensive without announcing it.

A half-empty glass of water on his side of the bed that wasn’t there when you arrived last night, which means he woke at some point and you didn’t. You are usually a light sleeper. You are not, apparently, a light sleeper with Sunghoon, which is the kind of information you do not examine.

lac4ygal

fic taglist: @citymare @02shuuu @woniescheeks @fancypeacepersona @m-wraith96 @vmpiricou @fixonfairy @deobitifull @yangwonforl1fr ++ ask for a tag 🏷️

thinemoonshine

"ALL OF YOU HORNDOGS"

𓏵‧₊˚ ┊roommates!enhypen ot7 x female reader જ⁀➴ 𐔌՞texts՞𐦯 .ᐟ 「a single dress has the boys on their knees」 part ᶠᵒᵘʳ, ˢⁱˣ

envanyr

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒

── ✧ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

PAIRING : roommate!riki × fem!reader / roommate!sunghoon × fem!reader

IN WHICH : what started as a simple roommate arrangement with your brother’s best friends quickly transforms into something much more intimate

⚠︎ WARNINGS : explicit content - smut (mdni) including: creampie, unprotected sex, fingering, pussy slapping, degradation, dirty talk, getting caught (kinda), possessive behavior, grinding, cum leaking, nipple play, "good girl", "slut", "baby"

ㅤㅤ

ptolemaea4a

⤷ THE WAY YOU TASTE ♯

idol!reader x idol!heesung ₊ ⊹

.✦ ݁˖요약 heesung’s solo career has allowed him to explore different sides of his art, especially a collaboration with you, and to film a music video that - let’s say - shocks the whole fandom, and you both.

warnings ␥ sexual tension, smut , cursing, slow burn (?) long ahhh plot sorry not sorry, they kinda hate each other, they’re awkward and annoyed by each other., soft-dom hee, brat tamer (? sort of) and more. just trust.

taglist : @ghostiiess @perastina : @jakeycakeys @justpassingdontworry @crypticscarrift @ja4hyvn @taelvvrzz @heejakexx68 @briilovn @hannieandshuaantics @kpopsmutty69 @enhaxlhs @kienhawon

reference : feeling lucky - bibi & jackson wang mv

“there’s not gonna be any chemistry, he’s not even my type”,

Is what you would’ve said if you were blind, and deaf, and mute.

Which -last time you checked- was definitely not true.

Cause you were pretty sure that, from where you stood, you could see lee heesung chewing the soft part of his magic erasable-ink pen.

You could hear the way his chair constantly dragged against the expensive floor of the studio each time he moved to talk to the producer, and unfortunately, a barrier of speech didn’t stop you from saying dumb thing after dumb thing.

n0bodysgirl

HOT HOT HOT, SUMMER!

𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 the AC and shower in your apartment stops working, you’re in desperate need of a way to cool down from the horrid temperatures. luckily for you, your sexy neighbor is more than happy to help you cool off during these times.

genre smut (lowkey vanilla as fuck, with a pinch of roughness at the end) ᖭི༏ᖫྀ featuring ╱‎ neighbor lee heeseung x fem! reader

cautions ❤︎ ─────── smut ( 18+ do not interact if you’re not 18 and over ), p in v sex, reader nearly passes out in the shower, brief heat exhaustion mention if you dig really deep.

𖥻 WORDCOUNT ◝ 1,307 not ─── ☁️proof read

of course on the hottest day of the year, your AC and shower decide to stop working. your apartment was too humid, you couldn’t bare staying in there any longer than you needed to.

you went out by the hallway, trying to contact maintenance—just in your luck, nobody answers. you reached out to the building’s manager, straight to voicemail. slowly yet surely you were losing hope.

the only thing keeping you cool at this point was the random, useless soda vending machine at the end of the hallway. sure it wasn’t much, but at least cool air was radiating from it.

your frustrated groans caused your end of the hall neighbor to come out of his space, leaning against the ice dispenser.

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