TANNI

[enbplvr]

✧ 𝐄𝐍𝐁𝐏𝐋𝐕𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ✧

𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐢 | 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬♈︎ | 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐮✨

⟡ 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: [24/7]

24/7

24/7

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭e <3

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 & 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬. 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧. 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐮.

[enbplvr]

Ahh mujhe tumhari stories bohot bohot pasand hain 🫶

THANK YOU!!!!

Sorry late reply karne ke liye😭😭

[enbplvr]

omgggg mein woh anon thi 😛😛😛. im also from indiaa 🤙🏻😛🤙🏻

OMG!!!! App se milke khushi hui✨

[enbplvr]

AREEE JHETHA BHAIIIII. aap india se ho?

Haan ji😋

[enbplvr]

Can we please get a story where jay has breeding kink & baby traps y/n

Absolutely yes! You know you’re my very first requester. I’ve been on Tumblr for about a year and I’ve never received any requests—until now. Thank you so much for requesting! Keep telling me your spicy ideas. I’m happy to feed your delulu by fulfilling them.

Here’s what you requested — I hope you like it🤭___________________________________________

TRAP YOU

Pairing: Husband Jay x fem!reader

Summary- Jay will do anything to keep you his forever even if it means leaving his mark inside you no one could ever erase.

Mentions- baby trapping and breeding kink

For better experience play this♡

___________________________________________

Jay had always been the perfect husband—the kind who worshipped you, who lived only for your love. But the more he adored you, the more his hunger grew. To him, your devotion wasn’t enough. He needed something deeper, something that would chain you to him forever.

The vow he had made on your wedding day wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted a bond that could never be broken, a tie that would weave you into his world so deeply you could never escape—even if you tried.

Jay’s love began to change. What once felt like tenderness now carried weight, an intensity that pressed down on you with every touch, every kiss. His hands lingered too long, his eyes followed you too closely, and his words began to sound less like devotion and more like possession.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered one night as he pulled you into his chest, his voice trembling with both fear and determination. “I can’t let you go. Not now… not ever.”

The ring on your finger was no longer enough to soothe his restless heart. He needed something greater, something irreversible. A mark of him inside you, proof that you were his.

“Let me make you mine… in the best way possible I can,” Jay whispered, his voice low and rough, each word dripping with hunger and intent. His hands traced your body possessively, claiming every curve, every shiver, as if memorizing you forever.

“You’ll feel me… all of me,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “And once I do this… once I leave my mark inside you… you’ll never be able to leave me. You’ll belong to me completely.”

"I'm gonna knock you up tonight," he whispered hoarsely, his forehead resting against yours.

“A good wife takes it whenever her husband wants, right?" he said. His voice low

With that, he started thrusting his cock in and out of you as if he's determined to fuck a baby in you

"I'm gonna fuck you till you're pregnant," he grunts, his cock slamming into you violently. "I'm gonna breed you like a bitch in heat until you're carrying my baby."

Your moans and gasps only drove him further, his thrusts deep, each one a reminder of your inescapable bond. He leaned close, forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “This… all of this… is mine. You belong to me now. And soon, there will be no way to leave. You’ll stay with me… because you’ll carry me, and that will tie you to me forever."

“You’re trapped, angel. Trapped in me… in us… in this life we’re making together. You’ll never escape, because I won’t let you.”

ACC

@swiftjay23 @desirehee @sun4kiss @ikeukiss @wemalyri @jaystardust @jaymentions @jaysguitarstring @enhypzle @enhypencores @enhyposts @lavenderosie @jakesimfromstatefarm @enhanextdoor @enhastars @jungwonyoii17 @jakedoxxenvasion @sunghoonsbabygirl @sunlightwoo @nishiimuragf @kpopscruggles @kpopslutsafterd4rk @fanficmemes @plutowon @jenlisaicons @nekoreis @jakesangel @ikeuverse @theseulgis @kimsvtaes @zombienha @overdose-in-paradise @pandenewie @cromadabi @crisle19 @enhayaya @gyuuchuuu @gyuuberryy @jungvian @jungmeowz @kaori194 @eloise-park @gotchoosehee @heartsforsunwoo @brokenengene @megangovier @kisshees @luvashli @ch4conne @bluej4ym

AUTHOR'S NOTE- It’s my first time someone has requested me to write a fanfic. I know it’s a bit short since I’m still improving my writing skills.🥹

TAGS

[desirehee-deactivated20260102]

kickback | yjw

where jungwon is a loser chainsaw hybrid who just wants to feel someone love his real heart and not his chainsaw heart. When he meets you, he feels like that could actually be possible.

뿔 : denji!jungwon x rezel!y/n (bomb hybrid)

cw: jungwon behaves similarly to denji, slightly suggestive, y/n is manipulative but learns her feelings eventually, fluff. this is a oneshot!!

wc: 1.5k

"ah, seriously?!" it started pouring, and jungwon ran to the nearest telephone to avoid getting drenched. "just my luck..whatever.." he'd stare into the void until you entered at the same time.

"fuck, it's raining." you'd say and also run to the telephone, not noticing the boy already inside it. he was blonde, and his aura...seemed different.

his heart would beat faster at the pretty girl in the telephone booth with him. "hey, wanna see a magic trick?" you'd turn around curiously, and nod at the cute boy asking the question. "yeah, show me."

he'd pull his tongue out, and it had a cute flower on it. "foh yoh" he'd mumble, and you'd smile and take it from his tongue. "thank you for the flower. he'd hope he impressed this pretty girl Infront of him.

"hey, you should visit the cafe i work at, it's right down the aisle." he'd blush and nod eagerly, "Y-yeah, i'll be there!!" you couldn't help but smile at the eagerness of this boy, and you'd leave the booth after it stopped raining and just disappear without a trace.

"shit, the cafe she works at? i'm gonna go there right now." he'd run off and go find your cafe.

while you were getting ready and entered the cafe, you already saw the boy from earlier was already sitting at one of the tables. "oh, you're already here!" you'd say curiously, and he'd look at you when he heard your voice.

"h-hey, it's the pretty girl." you'd smile as he looked at you like some lovestruck idiot and sit next to him on the booth. "hey, do you want a coffee?"

his eyes would widen, he'd never had coffee before and he'd hesitantly nod. "yeah..i want coffee." he'd look at you expectantly and you'd get up and go to the cafe kitchen, which was visible to him.

he'd expectantly wait for you to make the coffee. he really liked the smell of it, but never tasted it. so he didn't know what to expect.

five minutes later, you'd finish making the coffee, serve it to him and then sit back down.

you'd gesture to the steaming coffee on the table before nodding towards it. "cmon, drink." he'd nod at look at the coffee infront of him, and take the coffee and gulp a sip, it was really hot, so it burned his tongue alot and left a bitter taste, making him jerk back a little, "eugh!! it's bitter and hot!! my tongue.." he'd try to fan it down before you giggled and took the cup from him.

you'd blow on the coffee, making it drinkable. you'd take two sugar packets kept on the table and put the contents into the coffee. "this will be better, say aaa" you'd hold up the cup to his mouth, and he felt his heartbeat rise so much faster.

he'd slowly take a sip, it cooled down a bit now, and was sweeter. he still didn't like it though. "i like milkshakes better." he'd say and look at you with a stupid smile.

"really? i'll make you a milkshake next time then. i'm y/n." he'd blush, he completely forgot to ask for your name. it's like he knew you for decades. "i-i'm jungwon. nice to meet you, y/n."

you'd smile, "i'm really glad we met, jungwon." he'd smile and look back to the coffee he kept on the table and drink it all, despite not liking it just to impress you.

you'd laugh, "you're like a kid, you know that? you didn't have to drink that." he'd look at you and proudly say, "food made by pretty girls shouldn't go to waste!"

you'd find yourself laughing at his jokes, not afraid to be intimate with him, and finding a sense of comfort in him.

"you know, i've never been to school before." you'd raise an eyebrow, pausing on the lunch you guys were grabbing together, feeling sympathy for the boy. "really?" he'd nod. "my dad died when i was a kid, so i've been having to earn small money by killing devils and repaying the debt my dad owed. but i work with public safety and makima and my friends, so my life is really good now." he'd look at you, and you'd feel your heart beat.

no, no no. this wasn't your mission. you couldn't fall for him.

truth is, you work for the gun devil. you're that thing's ally. you don't even know what to call it. it's not a devil, more like a natural disaster that strikes one and comes back whenever it wants.

your mission was to defeat him, to end chainsaw. not fall in love with him. what the fuck is happening to you?

"i never went to school either." you'd mumble out, and he'd look at you, his mouth slightly agape. "i was military trained ever since i was a kid. i never got the chance to learn, or be with other kids.

"we're kinda similar, don't you think?" you'd look at him by turning your head to him, sympathizing with him in a way. he'd blush again, that same pink tint on his cheeks, "y-yeah. we are, y/n."

you'd smile, and place the lunch back down. "how about this, let's go explore the school two blocks away at night. yeah?" you'd ask him, and he'd feel like he was on cloud nine.

"yeah!! lets do that, y/n! i wanna hang out with you even more." he'd smile, and his blush hadn't left ever since. you'd take your hands in his and he'd shiver, trying to hide it which only earned you a smile.

at night, you both would walk to the abandoned school together. upon reaching, you'd turn to jungwon, and smile. "are you ready?" you'd tilt your head slightly, and he'd nod eagerly. you'd take his hand, and take him into the school, and he'd feel his heart beat faster, looking at your hands intertwined and at the back of your head.

throughout the school, you'd teach him basic grammar and basic mathematics, all that learned in the military, and he listened to every single word you said.

it was the most fun you had in a while to be honest, and the first time a guy hadn't run after a day. you wanted to keep him, all to yourself. he was special. he wasn't like chainsaw, at all.

you'd slowly take him to the schools pool, and he'd be a bit flustered, "y-y/n, why are we here?" he'd look at you, and you'd smile.

"do you know how to swim, jungwon?" he'd blink before thinking, and say, "No, i don't. i've never really gone swimming properly before." you'd smile, this was perfect.

you'd slowly take your clothes off and get in the pool bare, and turn to him. "come on, get in." he'd nod eagerly like a dog and follow in after undressing too.

you'd reach your hands out to him, and say, "i'll teach you everything, jungwon." he'd smile and give you his hands, and you'd teach him how to swim for nearly an hour.

both of you breathless and laughing now stood in the middle of the pool, face to face, inches apart. you'd look up at him and he was already looking at you.

he was flushed, not because he was tired, because of you.

you'd lean in, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss, and press your soft lips to his.

he'd press back, not knowing how to kiss properly, since his first kiss was..well..

you'd deepen it, and tighten your arms around him, and he'd grip your waist and bring you closer, almost like he was afraid to let you or else you'd dissapear.

you'd deepen the kiss, it was a soft and passionate one. one you never shared with anyone before. it felt real and genuine. you nor him wanted this moment to end.

he felt like he was lovable, for once. he felt the actual embrace of a woman, which felt like heaven for him.

you'd kiss him for minutes on end, and his hands would gently grip your waist and go up to your hair ever so often.

you'd finally pull back and look at him, both still engulfed in passion and water.

"i-i think i have a crush on you, y/n." you'd smile, you knew that already. "me too, jungwon. i like you, alot." he'd smile and life you up, earning a yelp from you.

you both played in the water for an hour more, with playful kisses and games.

"she's the one."

"he's the one."

an : helloi hope u guys liked this i ditched studying for my exam to write this 💋💋 suggestions r open and i might write a part two if this gets attention !!

[enbplvr]

LOVED IT! 🎀🩷

[enbplvr]

can we get married pls

I know where u live

let's get married plssssss

(no u cant say no to this🔪)

First of all who are u?🫣

[enbplvr]

tantan real id se aao

App kon ho??😋

[swiftjay23]

Can you write something where Sunoo and Jungwon are eating Y/N out, challenging each other to see who can make her cum more? Both of them are completely pussy-drunk, moaning against her, overstimulating her, and refusing to stop until she’s trembling and begging for a break. She’s crying from pleasure, and they’re so pussy-drunk they even start fighting for her taste.

Bestie… you did not come to play with this request 😵‍💫

⚠️ Warning / Content Notes: This fic contains explicit sexual content (18+ only) with heavy themes of oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum eating, mxm interaction (finger sucking), fingering, pussy-drunk behavior, degradation/possessive language, and reader crying from pleasure.

Hanging out with your two best friends playing video games didn’t sound like such a bad idea, right? Wrong. 

Your thighs won’t stop shaking. No matter how hard you try to press them down, to push them into the mattress, they twitch uncontrollably with every swipe of their tongues.

Sunoo is sprawled between your legs, messy blond hair sticking to his forehead as he suckles at your clit like he’s starving. Jungwon kneels beside him, two fingers buried knuckle-deep inside you, curling so deliberately that your vision whites out every time. They’re not working together, not really; they’re competing, and your body is the battlefield.

“Got her trembling already,” Jungwon murmurs, voice hoarse with arousal. His free hand digs into your thigh, pinning you open. “One more minute and she’ll cum again.”

Sunoo pulls back with a slick pop, chin glistening, and scoffs. “Please. She came from me first. Watch this.” He drags his tongue up your slit in one long, messy stripe, groaning into your pussy like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

The sound rattles through you, embarrassingly loud, and your hips buck up against his mouth. Jungwon laughs low, curling his fingers again, and you cry out. The sound doesn’t even sound like you anymore; it’s high, broken, and desperate.

“Fuck, she’s dripping,” Jungwon mutters, eyes glazed, “look at that.” He pulls his soaked fingers free and shoves them into Sunoo’s mouth before you can blink.

Sunoo moans, an obscene, muffled sound, and sucks Jungwon’s fingers clean, eyes fluttering shut as he licks down to the knuckle. Jungwon’s jaw clenches, his lips parting, and for a moment they forget you, too busy moaning into each other’s mouths over your taste.

The sight alone makes your stomach twist, heat surging low in your belly.

“Don’t get distracted,” Sunoo pants when he finally lets go, smirking as saliva strings between his lips and Jungwon’s fingers. “She’s not done yet.”

He dives back in, latching onto your clit with ruthless precision. Jungwon growls something under his breath, sliding three fingers back inside you this time, and you almost sob at the stretch.

It’s too much. It’s perfect.

Your body arches violently off the sheets, hands fisting the comforter, and you scream their names as another orgasm crashes through you. It’s not even distinguishable from the last one, they’ve been ripping them out of you one after the other until you can’t tell where one ends and another begins.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Jungwon groans, pumping harder, watching you unravel. “You’re cumming so pretty for us.”

Sunoo moans against your clit, the vibration nearly unbearable, and doesn’t let up even when you whimper, “p-please, please, I need—”

“What do you need, angel?” Sunoo hums against you, deliberately slow. He licks you open again, tongue pressing into the mess between your folds, and slurps greedily like he can’t get enough.

You choke on a sob. “N-need a break, too much—”

“Too much?” Jungwon interrupts, breathless, eyes locked on the way his fingers disappear into you. “No, baby, not yet. You can give us one more.”

They both ignore the tears streaking your cheeks. Sunoo’s hand joins Jungwon’s, their fingers scissoring inside you, stretching you wide while Sunoo devours you with sloppy, wet sounds that echo in the room.

You’re shaking so hard now that your knees keep knocking against their shoulders, but they just press harder into you, greedy and relentless.

“God, she’s dripping everywhere,” Sunoo gasps, pulling his mouth away just long enough to shove two of his own slick-coated fingers into Jungwon’s mouth. “Taste her.”

Jungwon groans so loudly it makes you clench around nothing when Sunoo pulls out. He sucks Sunoo’s fingers like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, eyes rolling back, moaning as your arousal coats his tongue.

“I can’t stop,” Jungwon pants when he finally releases them, diving down to replace Sunoo’s mouth on your clit. His tongue is firmer, rougher, and he growls when you cry out, the vibration making you jolt. “She’s fucking addictive.”

Sunoo laughs breathlessly, sliding his fingers back into your cunt alongside Jungwon’s. The stretch burns, makes you scream, but they don’t stop, pumping in perfect, brutal rhythm.

Your body can’t keep up. Pleasure tears through you in violent waves, each orgasm slamming into the next until you’re sobbing, back bowing painfully, tears soaking the pillow beneath your head.

“Look at her,” Jungwon groans into your clit, tongue flicking mercilessly. “She’s fucking ruined.”

“Ruined for anyone else,” Sunoo adds smugly, pushing harder, deeper, until the squelching of your cunt fills the air. “She’s ours now.”

You can’t answer. You can’t breathe. Every nerve in your body is firing, every muscle trembling, until you’re convinced you’ll break apart completely if they don’t stop.

But they don’t stop.

They keep sucking, licking, moaning into you, drinking you down like they’re dying of thirst, fingers curling cruelly until you gush so hard Sunoo gasps, pulling back just enough to let it splash against his lips.

“Fuck,” he moans, messy and loud, licking it up as it drips down his chin. “Do it again.”

Your mind is gone. You’re gone. All you can do is cry and cum and tremble while they feast on you like men possessed, their rivalry only making them more desperate, more greedy.

And deep down, even as your voice cracks begging for a break, you know they’ll keep going until they’ve had their fill.

If they ever do.

~Fin

masterlist

⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands, ⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie,  ⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk  ⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful,  ⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw,  ⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy,  ⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001  ⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq, ⟡ @strawberrykkk1

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

⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar,  ⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3,  ⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee,  ⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry,  ⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard,  ⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation,  ⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito,  ⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj,  ⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi,  ⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo,  ⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz,  ⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies, ⟡ @numberoneheeslut, ⟡ @lovestruck-sky ⟡ @roze-latte-zz, ⟡ @sociallyawkward18 ⟡ @lyserie @enstarzzi

[enbplvr]

THANKS A LOT FOR FULFILLING MY REQUEST!!!

This is so fucking good😭🛐

[enbplvr]

Baby you want it

Edit- mine

(enha.rizz on Instagram)

MENTIONS

@swiftjay23 @sun4kiss @bobatieeeee @bluej4ym @kpopscruggles @elikajinnie @w2hoonki @brokenengene @wonely @kbunzzi2oa @silkizui @freakseung2001 @heelvr78 @jungmeowz @kaori194 @eloise-park @gotchoosehee @heartsforsunwoo @yoiizz @gyuuchuuu @heartsforsunwoo @1woncat @lovenha7 @gyuuberryy @twylalocamaluca @megangovier @klaidciz @grandlightcandy @mafuyuous @ch4conne @noidnoentry @wonwon1e @heejayjake @ugudfuuffu @wonkives @sho02n @wonbyyou @jungvian @renlikecookies @jaysnose @2onwon @gigiramirezsblog @x0kills-xx @luvashli @strxwbloody @yangyangssss @biscoke @indigoez @maewphoria @cherryw0n

TAGS

[luviestarz]

ʏᴀɴɢ ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ ꜰɪᴄ ʀᴇᴄꜱ ! ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ꕤ

ꕤ X ▸ yang jungwon (part i) - @iuwon (what do you get when you have a stupid asshole of a bestfriend (who’s completely head over heels for you, should he add) and a fucked up ego that refuses to admit any form of defeat? you guessed it: the summoning of a jealous ex-boyfriend who dumped you two years ago, and is hell-bent on winning you back.)

ꕤ 3:45 am - @poemgyu

ꕤ ╰─▸ ❝ mine ❞ - ,, yang jungwon - @thejakeslayla (bf!jungwon x gn!reader ୨୧ secret relationship, idol au)

ꕤ 18+ only // jungwon gets turned on when you wear his t shirt - @jungwondazed

ꕤ there’s another side that you don’t know. / yang jungwon - @snghnlvr (after a year of dating yang jungwon, you’ve encountered a different side of him that even made you fall in love harder.)

ꕤ [midnight thoughts: jungwon + the sublime] - @hanlimz (after an arduous battle, jungwon isn't sure if he's going to make it, but he has to say something before he goes.)

ꕤ KISS KISS KISS! - @weoris (in a little session of cuddles, jungwon couldn’t help but smile cutely at your pretty lips, wanting and giving you the most adoring kisses.)

ꕤ Needy Girl | Y.JW - @wwooyology (jungwon had invited you over just to spend his time studying while you sat on his bed, watching him. after growing bored, you came up with the perfect plan to distract him, and it worked, just not how you anticipated.)

ꕤ yang jungwon — love me. - @karinasbaby (in which.. jungwon gets a boner mid cuddling session.)

ꕤ LET ME IN, PLEASE🥛 - @gardenwons (As the new doorman for the shabby apartment complex, you learn quickly to recognize imposters until eventually a cunning doppelganger entered the building—also making its way in you.)

ꕤ boyfriend!jungwon - @wonbloom

ꕤ STRATEGY - @coqhee (a step by step tutorial on how to get into yang jungwon’s stubborn and dumb heart using wikihow!)

ꕤ 𓈒 ㅤ୨୧^. .^ ㅤ𓈒 clingy jungwon in front of the guys - @jiwuu

ꕤ ecstacy — yjw -- @mssishipi (sex with jungwon is good, no doubt about that. but the thing is… he doesn’t know how to stop)

ꕤ [ 1:13 ] - y.jw (mdni) - @onlyywwon (i can't keep my hands off of you. baby they don't know you like i do. and that's fine cause you're all mine)

ꕤ BEEN WAITING TO ✮ GET NEXT TO YOU - @ikeu05 (where you're mad at your boyfriend but he just looks way too attractive)

ꕤ Digital Shadows- Yang Jungwon - @heesvnqie (hacker x reader, psychological thriller, dark romance, suspense)

ꕤ Home is Where You Are - @si3rren (your boyfriend Jungwon is chaos wrapped in soft hoodies, bunny slippers, and endless kisses. domestic life with him means giggles, head pats, lazy mornings, stolen kisses while cooking, and feeling so loved it almost hurts)

ꕤ hot wheels ೀ⋆⑅˚ - @hoonieyun (when heeseung introduces yn, his childhood best friend who just moved back, to his friend group; jungwon thinks he's fallen in love. he comes up with a plan to get close to her when he hears that she likes motorcycles. spoiler: jungwon doesn't even know how to drive a car, let alone a motorcycle)

ꕤ HIDE-AND-SEEK - @enbplvr (Wanna play hide and seek with your obsessed boyfriend? Too bad. He never loses. And you always do. Maybe try hiding better this time)

ꕤ DON'T FLUSTER ME, I'M SORRY! - @heeseung64 (shy and hidden confessional! jungwon x shy and blurty y/n! fluff!!!!!!)

ꕤ NO.1 PARTY ANTHEM ★ YANG JUNGWON - @yuzujjn (𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋)

ꕤ ❝ i'm quite the jealous type ❞ . . . . 양정원 x reader - @rikiscent

ꕤ jealousy | y.jw - @onlyywwon (suggestive, kissing, making out, dry humping, mild profanity, nicknames: sweetheart, baby..)

[enbplvr]

THANKS A LOT FOR RECOMMENDING MY STORY!!! 🥹🫶

[swiftjay23]

let me know when we get needy jay fucking you in the studio late at night after everyone left

UHMMMMM?? RIGHT NOW, cus, bestie, the way you know my weaknesses… 👀 needy jay fucking you in the studio after hours while you’re trying to stay quiet, him all desperate and whispering “just one more, please, i need you” 🫠 yeah… that’s def going on the list

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: Leave the Lights On

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jay (ENHYPEN) x Reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Smut, PWP, Idol!AU, Late-night Studio Sex 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You stayed behind in the studio, thinking Jay just wanted company while he wrapped up a track. But the quiet hum of equipment, the closeness, and the way his hand lingered too long on your thigh makes it obvious he wants something else, something he’s been holding back all night. Alone in the studio with the lights dimmed and the city outside, Jay finally snaps, and you find out just how desperate he’s been to have you. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit sexual content (18+ only), unprotected sex, overstimulation (multiple orgasms, Jay won’t stop), possessive/dom Jay, needy/desperate undertones, begging/dirty talk, degradation + praise mix, rough pace, marking/biting, semi-public risk (studio setting), reader is referred to with fem terms Word Count: 1196

The studio was too quiet. The lights low, equipment humming faintly, everyone else gone for the night. Jay should’ve been focused on the half-finished track open on the screen, but he wasn’t. He was watching you on the couch, curled up, scrolling through your phone, and every second felt like torture.

He’d been good all day. Patient. Composed. But the sound of your soft laugh, the way your thighs shifted against each other when you stretched, it broke him. “Baby,” he rasped, chair rolling back from the desk. “C’mere.” “What, producer Jay needs company?”

“Not company,” he rasped, chair. “You.” You barely had time to set your phone aside before he was tugging you into his lap, mouth on yours, hands gripping your hips so hard you could feel the bruises forming. He kissed like a starving man, needy and messy, teeth scraping at your lip.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he muttered against your mouth, grinding you down onto his already hard cock straining against his sweats. “You don’t even know what you do to me, can’t even fucking mix a beat with you in here.” His words came out strained. “Sat there lookin’ so pretty while I tried to focus. Couldn’t think about shit except bending you over this desk.”

You whimpered when he pressed up harder, his cock straining, the fabric of his sweats doing nothing to hide how big he was. Jay smirked at the sound, slipping his hand under your top to tug harshly at your bra until your breasts spilled out into his palms.

“Already whining for me?” he teased, thumbs circling your nipples until your back arched. “Fuck, you’re sensitive tonight.” Your whimper only made him groan louder. He shoved your shirt up, mouthing over your chest, biting down hard before soothing it with his tongue. You tugged at his hair and his hips bucked up uncontrollably, his self-control hanging by a thread.

In one fluid motion, he stood, carrying you the short distance to the couch and shoving you down on your back. “Jay—” you gasped when his hand slid across your thighs, fingers skimming smoothly over the flesh. His head dropped back, a low, wrecked moan spilling from him. He yanked your shorts off, tossing them aside, and his eyes darkened when he saw the wet patch clinging to your panties. 

“Shit,” he hissed, running two fingers over the damp fabric. “You’re soaked. All from grinding on me? You’re fucking desperate.” He pulled your panties aside and pressed his fingers against your bare slit, groaning when they came away dripping. “Goddamn. Bet you’ll cum so easy for me tonight.”

“God, fuck, always so ready for me. Please, let me—” He cut himself off, dragging his fingers through your slick before plunging two deep inside. The wet sound filled the studio, obscene, and his breath hitched like he was the one being fingered. You cried out, hands flying to grip his wrist, but Jay only smirked, leaning down to catch your lips in a messy kiss as he pumped into you faster.

“That’s it, baby. Take it. Fuck, you’re squeezing already, gonna cum on my fingers this fast?” You clung to him, body trembling as he curled his fingers just right, fucking you open while his cock twitched in his sweats. “Want you so bad,” he groaned, forehead pressing to yours. “Need to fuck you right here, please, baby, let me. I can’t wait.”

The high hit before you were ready. The wet sounds echoed in the studio, embarrassingly loud, and Jay swallowed every moan you gave him. You clenched hard, eyes rolling back, and your orgasm tore through you with a broken cry. Jay didn’t stop. “That’s one,” he murmured against your jaw, relentless with his fingers as your body twitched. “Give me another.”

“Jay—too much—” “Shh. You can take it,” he whispered, nipping at your neck. “You always take me so well. Gimme one more, baby. Cum again for me.”

Your legs shook violently as the next wave built too fast, your body nowhere near recovered from the first. His thumb pressed against your clit mercilessly, and you screamed when the second orgasm ripped through you, wetter this time, thighs trembling uncontrollably.

Jay groaned low in his chest, staring at the slick coating his fingers. “Fuck, look at that. You’re a mess for me.” When you nodded, he almost came just from that. “Want to fuck you, please baby, want- need you.” He yanked his sweats down, freed his cock, flushed and leaking, and pushed your underwear aside. Lining up, he barely lasted a second before sinking into you with a choked curse, the stretch making you both cry out. “Now let’s see how many you can give me on this.”

“Fuuuck—” he gasped, eyes squeezing shut, nails digging into your hips as he bottomed out. “So tight, fuck, don’t move yet, don’t—” But he was the one who snapped, grinding up into you, desperate, reckless.

The sound of skin slapping, his rough panting, your cries echoing against the studio walls, it was filthy, too loud, too much, and he didn’t care. He set a brutal pace, hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin-on-skin filling the room alongside your strangled moans. Every thrust had you seeing stars, pleasure bordering on painful, your body too sensitive but Jay refusing to let up.

“Jay, ah, too much, please—” “Take it, take me—” he begged, thrusts slamming up into you so hard the couch creaked. “Please, let me fuck you, let me use you, you feel so fucking good—” Your moans only made him unravel more. His hand found your throat, squeezing lightly as his other hand rubbed your nipple furiously, his eyes blown and desperate. “Cum for me, please, baby, cum, I need to feel you, don’t hold back, fuck—” You whimpered, and his cock twitched inside you at the sound.

“Fuck, that’s it. Cry for me. God, you sound so pretty when you can’t take it anymore.” His hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit again, and you screamed, nails digging into his back as another orgasm crashed over you, even stronger than the first two. Jay growled at the way your walls clenched violently around him, and his thrusts grew sloppy, desperate.

You broke first, body clenching around him so hard he lost it, his hips stuttering as he groaned into your neck, spilling inside you with a guttural moan. Even after he came, he kept thrusting shallowly, chasing the high, needing more of you. “God, I can’t stop,” he whispered hoarsely, face buried against your shoulder. “Not done, need you again, right here—” “Mm, no,” he whispered against your lips when you tried to squirm away. “Not done. You’re gonna cum one more time on my cock. I need to feel it again.”

Your eyes widened, shaking your head weakly, but Jay only smirked, pinning your hips down as he rolled his hips shallowly, cock hard again inside you. “You can hate me later,” he teased darkly, voice hoarse and dripping with need. “Right now, you’re mine. And I’m not stopping until I’ve wrung every last drop out of you.”

masterlist

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

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

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

[enbplvr]

SO SO SO GOOD🥹❤️

[swiftjay23]

could you do step dad hee, his big and fat dick (ofc😛) making you cry cause its your first time and liek reader is a literal angel, stupidly dumb innocent and naive and daddy hee is exact opposite- manipulating and taking advantage of his own step daughter like a fucking creepy pervert and fucking her dumb till shes babbling nonsense almost faints from overstim and breeds her (you can do baby trapping im down bad for that but you dont have to if youre not okay w that idc your writes are ALWAYS the best) and he comforts her afterwards like the aftercare king he is. this could be a proper fic.

(im gonna read this every night with my pussy😈)

omg yes. yes. yes. take all my money. don't cancel me gang but this- this right here- this can take my heart. Also wrote this while being extremely high on caffeine gang pray for me😭

Also I'm really sorry but no baby trapping- dw I'll make it up to you another time😭

Hope y'all like it (Im lowk corssing my fingies you do-)

Title: Silent Vows, Shattered Moans

Pairing: stepdad!Heeseung × Reader Genre: Dark smut, manipulative intimacy Summary: Your mom’s marriage to Heeseung is supposed to be perfect, so much so that fairytales would be jealous. But what happens when her husband finds you far more interesting than his own wife? Every thrust feels like a vow he carves into your body, taunting, relentless, daring you to cry out while your mother waits in the next room. Content Tags / Warnings: NSFW, explicit sexual content, Manipulative dirty talk, Dubious consent / lack of explicit consent (non-con elements, reader unable to refuse clearly), Breeding kink / creampie focus, Overstimulation, Spitting, Choking (hand on throat), Rough handling / being dragged across bed, Multiple positions, “Be quiet or mommy will hear” taunting, Praise + degradation mix, Reader crying / babbling / trying to muffle moans, Size kink / “fat cock” focus (stretching, being forced to take him), Aftercare at the end Word Count: 7226 

You’d long since taught yourself how to choke down the laugh, the scoff, the eye-roll that threatened to slip out every time your mom announced she was going out to see her boyfriend. For the past six months, that name had been Heeseung. She said it like it was something sweet melting on her tongue, and maybe it was, maybe to her it was the taste of another paycheck, another man willing to pretend she was the kind of woman who deserved to be worshipped. When she’d finally let the word marry tumble out last Saturday over burnt toast and instant coffee, you hadn’t even been surprised. You’d almost felt bad for him, this Heeseung. He seemed like the kind of man who lived a quiet, respectable life at the end of the cul-de-sac, stable, comfortable, boring in a way that meant safe. The kind of man who thought your mom’s laughter was genuine and not a performance.

You knew better. You’d grown up watching her cycle through men like it was a sport, her record already four divorces deep, their signatures still scrawled across the papers collecting dust in her closet. After your dad walked out when you were two (bless him for escaping while he could), it had just been a steady stream of strangers parading through your living room, faces you never bothered to memorize. Some lasted weeks, others months, all of them eventually leaving with less money, more wrinkles, and the same hollow look in their eyes. You were jaded enough to stop pretending any of them mattered.

But Heeseung… he was different, at least in the way she talked about him. Different in the way she dressed up for him, painted her lips too red, laughed too loud, made herself soft and girlish in ways you’d never seen before. And maybe that was why, when the glossy black car he’d sent pulled up to your curb on Saturday, you actually found yourself curious. Heeseung was the first one who made your mother glow, and even though you hated yourself for it, some traitorous part of you wanted to meet the man capable of that.

Still, you climbed into that leather seat with your guard up. The car smelled expensive, the kind of expensive that clung to your clothes and reminded you of everything you didn’t have. Your mom was practically bouncing beside you, her perfume too strong, her phone buzzing with Heeseung’s name, lighting up the screen. And you sat there, arms crossed, staring out the tinted window, reminding yourself not to care. Because men like him never stayed. And if he did? If he actually made it to becoming husband number five? Well, you already knew the shine wouldn’t last forever.

The ride ended in a neighborhood so polished it made your teeth ache. Wide lawns trimmed within an inch of their lives, fences that gleamed like they’d been scrubbed by hand, houses sitting smug and sprawling with driveways long enough to swallow yours whole. The car rolled to a slow stop at the gates, and your mom was already halfway out before the driver even reached for the handle. “Oh my god!” she squealed, teetering forward on her toes like she was sixteen again, pressing manicured fingers to her lips. “See, honey? This is exactly why you need a rich man!” Her laughter rang a little too loud in the still air as she slipped her hand eagerly into the arm of the man waiting there.

Of course, he was in a suit. Crisp, charcoal-gray, not a wrinkle in sight, the kind of cut that screamed tailored. Rich. You should’ve guessed the second she said yes so quickly. Your mother was a magpie, drawn to anything that glittered, anything big and shiny enough to distract her from the cracks in her own life. The diamonds on her fourth ring had dulled fast, but she didn’t seem to care so long as she had a new one to chase.

Still, as you trailed behind her and let your gaze flick toward Heeseung, you couldn’t help wondering. Did he really love her? Or was this another arrangement dressed up as romance, another transaction she was playing at until the novelty wore off? He didn’t look like the type to fall headfirst into her theatrics; his expression was smooth, calm, practiced, but you thought you caught it, just for a second, the way his eyes lingered past her shoulder, like maybe he’d already noticed you.

He was everything you never expected him to be. So much so that you had to do a double-take, just to be sure he was really the man your mother had been bragging about for weeks. Charismatic. Smooth-tongued in a way that felt effortless, not forced. Young, much younger than you’d pictured when your mom said the word fiancé, and absolutely gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that didn’t belong to the men who usually fell for her performance. The kind that stole your breath before you could catch it. For the first time in years, you were skeptical, not of him, but of her. Was this really your mother’s choice?

And the thought came unbidden, hot and shameful: if he wasn’t already hers, if his arm wasn’t already locked around your mom’s, you might’ve found yourself trying to catch his attention, to see if those sharp eyes would soften for you.

Because sharp was the only way to describe him. Sharp collarbones visible even beneath the expensive cut of his suit, the fabric falling just right to hint at the long lines of his frame. A jaw like it had been carved with intent, all clean edges and shadows that begged to be traced. His lips full and distracting, the kind you could imagine curling into a smirk or pressed hard against your throat. Dark hair swept back just enough to reveal a strong forehead, yet unruly enough to whisper at something untamed beneath the polish. Even his hands caught your eye, long fingers, veins running over the backs of them, flexing as he adjusted his cufflink. Hands that looked capable of both gentleness and ruin.

And when he smiled at you, just briefly, just enough to acknowledge your presence, you felt it like a spark, low in your stomach, dangerous and unwelcome.

The house was exactly what you expected from a man in a suit like his, vaulted ceilings, gleaming floors you were almost afraid to step on, art on the walls that you couldn’t quite tell was expensive or just meant to look that way. Your mom was practically swooning, clinging tighter to Heeseung’s arm with every new doorway he opened, gasping over marble counters, glass chandeliers, the way the light caught on the polished wood.

You trailed a step behind, quiet, letting them play their parts. But every so often, Heeseung’s gaze flicked back, as though to check if you were still following. His smile was polite, practiced, yet the longer it lingered, the more you felt like he was looking through you, not at you. And then it happened, small, nothing really, something you could almost brush off. His hand stayed clasped around your mother’s arm, steady, guiding her through another doorway… but when he shifted back to let you pass first, his other hand touched you. Just a graze at your lower back. Except lower than it should have been. Lower than any almost-stepfather’s hand had any right to go. A whisper of pressure, warm through your shirt, gone before you could react.

Your breath caught. Your mom didn’t notice, too busy cooing over the crown molding. He didn’t falter, didn’t so much as blink, like it was nothing at all. Like maybe you’d imagined it. But you hadn’t. You knew you hadn’t. And it left your skin tingling, your mind traitorously replaying the feel of his palm as you walked on, pretending everything was fine. You brushed it off. You had to. Maybe he hadn’t realized how low his hand was. Maybe he was just being polite, guiding you forward like any gentleman would. It was nothing. A fluke. Your mind trying to make something out of nothing because you were too aware of him, his scent, his smile, the way that suit fit too well. So you straightened your shoulders, ignored the heat prickling at your spine, and followed them into the dining room.

Dinner looked like it had been stolen from a magazine spread: candles lit even though the overhead chandelier spilled more than enough light, crystal glasses catching the glow, cutlery that clinked with a sound far too delicate for your comfort. Your mom was glowing, chattering away about how “spoiled” she felt, her laughter spilling over the table like champagne bubbles. Heeseung matched her tone perfectly, the attentive fiancé, leaning in at all the right moments, smiling like she was the only one in the world.

Except she wasn’t. Every now and then, between refilling her glass and slicing into his steak, his eyes cut to you. Just brief flicks, never long enough for your mom to notice, never bold enough to be called out. But you felt them, sharp, assessing, deliberate. His questions came casually, woven into conversation like silk threads. How are your classes? What do you study? Do you live nearby? Polite, harmless on the surface. But when his gaze lingered across the table, it didn’t feel harmless at all. It felt like he was peeling back layers, seeing more than you wanted him to.

And when your mom excused herself midway through, off to the bathroom, humming under her breath, he didn’t miss a beat. He leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass, and for the first time, his attention landed fully on you. No pretense, no distractions. Just you. “You’re quieter than I imagined,” he said, smooth, almost teasing. “Your mom told me you were sharp. I can see it in your eyes.” The words sank heavy into the quiet space between you, too intimate for a man who should’ve been a stranger, too heavy for the role he was supposed to play. And still, his smile was nothing but polite when your mom breezed back in, taking her seat at his side as though nothing had shifted at all.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur. Your mom laughed too loud at his jokes, reached for his hand across the table like a teenager, and you sat there trying to convince yourself that the heat crawling under your skin wasn’t real. That his eyes hadn’t lingered on you. That his voice hadn’t curled around your name like it belonged to him.

When the plates were cleared away and the candles had burned low, Heeseung walked you both back to the car waiting outside. Ever the gentleman, pulling your mom’s chair out, offering her his arm, opening the door like it was second nature. His every move rehearsed, perfect, impossible to fault. But just as you slid into the back seat, his hand brushed against you again. A ghost of contact at your waist, firm enough to steady you, low enough to make your breath catch. Gone in a second, leaving you staring straight ahead, heart thudding like you’d imagined it all.

Your mom didn’t notice, too busy gushing about how perfect the night had been. She leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he smiled down at her like a man in love. Like he hadn’t just crossed a line you couldn’t stop replaying. The ride home was filled with your mom’s rambling joy, her voice spilling into the quiet like a radio left on too long. You answered when you had to, nodding, smiling, playing the dutiful daughter. But your mind was stuck back in that dining room, on the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch, the way he’d looked at you when no one else was watching. And when the car pulled away, leaving you and your mom standing on the front step, she squeezed your hand, her face flushed with happiness. “Isn’t he wonderful?” she whispered, giddy.

You forced a smile, but all you could think was: he’s dangerous. Sleep didn’t come easy that night. You’d stared at the ceiling for hours, sheets twisted around your legs, replaying the evening in a loop you couldn’t break. Every glance across the table. Every brush of his hand. Every perfectly polite word that felt dipped in something darker when aimed at you. And that was the worst part, you hadn’t just noticed. You’d liked it. The realization hit like a bruise beneath your ribs. Somewhere between your mom’s laughter and his quiet smile, you’d started weaving something in your head, something sick. A fantasy that made your stomach knot and your thighs press tight together beneath the covers. The idea of him, your mom’s fiancé, almost your stepfather, turning that smooth voice on you, that steady hand, that sharp smile. Of him pulling you close instead of her. Of him ruining you just because he could.

It was wrong. So wrong you wanted to claw the thought out of your own skull. But it was there, pulsing, twisting, every time you closed your eyes. So you did the only thing you could think to do. You distanced yourself. The next time your mom dragged you along to his house, you kept space between you. Sat at the far end of the couch. Ate quickly, excused yourself before dessert. You told yourself it was working, that the distance was good, that if you stayed small and quiet, he wouldn’t notice. That if you ignored the fantasies clawing at you, they’d eventually disappear.

But Heeseung noticed. Of course he did. His eyes followed you when you slipped away, lingered when you avoided his gaze. His smile never faltered, not once, not in front of your mom, but you felt it, the way he tracked you. Like the more you tried to vanish, the more visible you became to him. You kept telling yourself distance was the cure. That if you carved enough space between you and him, the fantasies would starve and wither, and you’d be able to look him in the eye without that rush of heat flooding your chest.

So you stopped lingering in the living room when your mom dragged you along to his house. You stayed tucked in corners with your phone in hand, earphones shoved in even if no music was playing. At dinners, you sat across the table, eyes down, your answers clipped and polite whenever Heeseung’s questions found you. You never let yourself laugh at his charm, no matter how easy he made it. You avoided his gaze like it was dangerous, because it was. But avoidance only seemed to make him press closer. Not overtly. Not in a way anyone else would notice. Just small things, deliberate things. He’d pull your chair out before you could touch it, leaning close enough that his cologne curled around you. He’d pour your drink after filling your mom’s glass, a polite gesture, but the curve of his mouth told you he knew exactly what he was doing. When you excused yourself early, his voice followed you down the hall, smooth and even: Leaving so soon? You’re always running from me.

It was maddening. Your mom, oblivious, only ever grew more infatuated. She beamed when Heeseung set a hand at the small of her back, giggled when he whispered something in her ear. And you tried, god you tried, to hold onto your disgust, to remind yourself how twisted it was that you even thought about him at night, alone, when no one could hear. But Heeseung was patient. Too patient. He never pushed, never forced, never did anything your mom could frown at. And that was the worst part. He didn’t have to. Because every glance, every polite little comment meant for you alone, every subtle brush of his hand on a doorknob you both reached for at the same time, it all worked like strings tightening around your throat.

You told yourself you hated him for it. You told yourself you hated you for it even more. And still, every night, the fantasy got harder to bury. It started small, almost laughably innocent. Heeseung had a way of sliding into your space when no one else was looking, of making it seem perfectly natural that you were suddenly standing too close. One evening, while your mom disappeared into the kitchen to grab dessert, he found you in the hallway. You were on your way to the bathroom, phone clutched in hand like a shield, when he stepped out of his office and nearly collided with you.

“Careful,” he murmured, steadying you with a hand at your elbow. The touch was light, polite. Harmless. Except he didn’t let go right away. His thumb traced one absentminded stroke against your sleeve before he released you, his smile practiced, effortless. “Always in a rush.” Your throat went dry. “Sorry.” “No need to apologize.” His eyes lingered, warm in a way that made your skin crawl. “You remind me of myself when I was your age. Sharp. Always observing. Never saying more than you need to.” It was such a simple line, delivered so smoothly, that when your mom’s voice called down the hall—“Dessert’s ready!”—you almost convinced yourself you’d imagined the weight behind it.

But it kept happening. The next visit, he insisted on driving you and your mom home himself instead of sending the car. Your mom rode shotgun, singing along to the radio, while you sat stiff in the backseat. At a red light, he glanced in the rearview mirror, catching your eyes for a beat too long. “Quiet again,” he said, voice low enough that your mom didn’t notice. “What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?”

Another time, when your mom ducked upstairs to take a call, Heeseung joined you on the couch. Too close, thigh brushing yours, his cologne dizzying in the still air. He leaned back, casual, arm stretched along the back of the sofa like it belonged there. “You should relax more,” he said smoothly, eyes on the TV but attention clearly fixed on you. “You carry yourself like you’re waiting for the world to collapse.”

And always, always, there was that same faint smile. The one that said he knew exactly what he was doing. That he enjoyed watching you squirm. That he was patient enough to wait for you to break before he ever lifted a finger. It started off harmless enough, just you and Heeseung in the living room after your mom excused herself to take a call upstairs. The silence stretched between the two of you, and you swore you could feel him studying you from the armchair across the room. When you finally dared to glance at him, he was lounging back, one long leg crossed over the other, a glass of wine balanced casually in his hand. His eyes, sharp and dark, too knowing for comfort, lingered on you in a way that made your throat dry.

Then his voice broke the stillness, low and lazy, but with a cruel sort of precision. “So, tell me… have you let anyone touch you yet?” The question blindsided you. Your body went rigid, eyes widening as though you hadn’t heard him correctly. He tilted his head, lips curving into that practiced, devastating smirk of his. “Anyone made you feel like the goddess you are?” His tone was slow, deliberate, wrapping itself around every word, thick with suggestion. He leaned back deeper into the chair, spreading out like he owned not only the space but you too. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, dragging over it slowly before he caught it between his teeth.

You couldn’t answer. You didn’t even breathe. Your lips parted but nothing came out, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest until you wanted to crumble into the floor. He watched you struggle, eyes gleaming with amusement, and for a terrifying, thrilling second you thought he might stand up, close the space between you. But he didn’t. He just sat there, smirking, letting the silence drag on until your cheeks burned with shame you couldn’t explain.

Heeseung chuckled, soft and patronizing. “Didn’t think so.” The way he said it made it clear he wasn’t asking. He already knew. And you were almost insane for letting your arousal hit you like a truck. 

The house smelled of champagne and perfume, laughter spilling down from the master bedroom upstairs. Your mom’s bachelorette party was in full swing, her friends shrieking and teasing her about tomorrow, their voices muffled through walls. The kind of noise that made the rest of the house feel oddly hollow, emptied out, secretive. You sat curled on the sofa downstairs, trying to lose yourself in your phone, the glow of the screen the only anchor keeping you from unraveling. You’d been doing so well avoiding him all day, slipping out of rooms just as he entered, ducking away from that smirk and those questions. But of course, fate, or maybe just his patience, had other plans. Because you heard the slow, deliberate tread of his footsteps before you saw him.

Heeseung appeared in the archway, tieless now, sleeves rolled up, a glass of whiskey dangling from his fingers. He leaned one shoulder against the frame, watching you with the kind of attention that made your stomach twist. His gaze was heavy, indulgent, like he’d been waiting all night for this exact moment. “Funny,” he drawled, voice just loud enough to carry over the distant music from upstairs. “Your mother’s having her last night of freedom, and here you are… hiding away like some little secret.” “Shouldn’t you be downstairs, celebrating with your mother?” You stiffened, your head snapping up. Heeseung leaned against the doorway, tie gone, collar loosened, a glass of amber whiskey balanced casually in his hand. The dim light seemed made for him, casting his sharp cheekbones and broad shoulders into sculpted shadow. “I—no. That’s her night. Not mine.” You forced a shrug.

You swallowed hard, not daring to look at him. Your phone slipped slightly in your sweaty grip, the bright screen reflecting your own wide-eyed face back at you. Heeseung’s steps were unhurried as he entered the room, circling the sofa like a predator circling something fragile. He placed his glass on the coffee table, the clink of crystal echoing in the quiet.

“You know,” he murmured, lowering his voice until it brushed against the nape of your neck like fingertips, “I’ve been thinking about what I asked you.” Your blood went cold. That question, the one you remembered better than a subject you spent three nights memorising, Anyone made you feel like the goddess you are yet? Your silence had answered him once. He wasn’t going to let it go twice. This time, he sat down beside you, close enough that the heat of his body invaded your space, close enough that the faint scent of whiskey and expensive cologne made your head swim. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and angled his face toward you, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, tongue darting out to wet his lips like he already knew how cornered you felt.

“Still nothing to say, angel?” he asked softly, almost sweetly. But his eyes were dark, and his grin told you he was enjoying every second of your silence. Heeseung hummed low in his throat, walking closer, and before you could stop it, your body shifted subtly back against the chair, like prey making room for the predator to close in. He sat on the edge of the chaise beside you, thigh brushing yours for the briefest second before parting space again, deliberate. “You’re too tense,” he said softly, and your heart tripped. His hand drifted closer, ghosting over your wrist before sliding lower, slow, careful, like he had all the time in the world, until the tip of his finger traced over the curve of your thigh. Just a graze, barely there, but it burned like a brand.

You swallowed hard, clutching your book like a lifeline. “I’m fine,” you whispered. He smiled then, lazy, knowing, his gaze locked on your face. “Relax, doll” he murmured, like it was the simplest command in the world. “You don’t always have to hold everything together, you know. Let me do the work, for once.” The words sank too deep, twisting somewhere dark inside you, leaving you speechless. And Heeseung just leaned back, sipping the last of his whiskey, a smirk curling like he’d already won. “Let me do the work. You don’t even have to lift a finger.”

When you didn’t move, didn’t push him away, his hand slipped higher, until he leaned down, setting down his glass with a faint, defiant clunk against your bed, his breath hot against your ear. “Lay back for me.” The command was quiet, but there was no space to refuse it. Your body obeyed before your brain caught up, sinking into the sheets as your heart hammered against your ribs. Heeseung’s gaze burned into you as he dragged his fingers to the hem of your panties. Slowly, deliberately, he hooked them with his teeth, pulling them down inch by inch, never once breaking eye contact. The sight was obscene, his lips brushing your skin, his sharp jaw working as he tugged the thin fabric away. You trembled, caught between terror and the twisted thrill of it, and he only smirked deeper, eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Good girl,” he whispered, settling between your thighs. And then, without another word, his mouth pressed against you, hot, wet, consuming, his tongue parting you with practiced ease as if he’d been waiting for this moment all along.

His tongue dragged in one slow stripe over your slit, savoring the taste of you like it was something forbidden he had every intention of stealing. You gasped, thighs jerking, but his hands came up immediately to pin them down against the mattress, strong fingers digging into your skin. “Shh,” Heeseung hushed you, mouth brushing against your folds, his breath hot and teasing. “You don’t want anyone hearing us, do you? Not when you sound this sweet.” Before you could answer, his mouth closed around your clit, sucking gently, then harder until your back arched. The wet sounds of his tongue lapping at you filled the room obscenely, and his eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and unrelenting, as if daring you to look away.

He eased his tongue lower, thrusting it inside you, groaning at the way you clenched around the intrusion. The vibration made your hips jerk, but he pressed you deeper into the bed, his shoulders forcing your thighs wide apart. “God, you taste so fucking good,” he muttered against you, slick coating his lips, his chin. Then his teeth grazed your swollen clit just enough to make you yelp. He pulled back only to grin wickedly, licking his lips. “Don’t be shy. I want every sound out of you.” His mouth sealed over you again, faster now, tongue flicking against your clit in relentless patterns while one hand snuck up to rub two fingers along your entrance. He teased you cruelly, sliding them in just a little before pulling away, letting your need build until you were whimpering under him.

“Beg for it,” he demanded softly, voice muffled by your cunt. “Tell me how badly you want me inside you.” The intense pressure of his tongue on your clit and the promise of his fingers curling where you craved them had your resolve crumbling. Heeseung smirked against you the second you broke, the second the first desperate plea slipped past your lips. “That’s it,” he groaned, plunging two fingers deep into your heat while his mouth sucked at your clit like he meant to own you. Your body writhed, caught between his grip and the overwhelming waves of pleasure he dragged out of you, until release crashed hard and messy, your thighs trembling around his head, his name spilling from your mouth like a prayer you weren’t supposed to say.

And he didn’t stop. Even as your orgasm ripped through you, Heeseung kept licking, fingers thrusting, working you past the point of overstimulation until you were crying out, grabbing at the sheets, begging him for mercy he never intended to give. He wiped his mouth as he got up to leave, “See you tomorrow, sweetheart, don’t sleep in too late.” Winked and then left you right there on the bed, ruined and craving more.

The morning of the wedding felt like being trapped inside a storm. Your mom was a blur in white silk and nerves, shouting for her bouquet one moment, the hairdresser the next, then screaming at the planner over the wrong shade of flowers. Makeup brushes clattered, dresses rustled, people swarmed in and out of the suite. You were dragged from one corner to the other—“Hold this!” “Zip me up!” “Fix the veil!”—until your head was spinning. And through it all, Heeseung was calm. Almost too calm. He looked devastating in his tailored suit, the perfect groom. Smiling politely at the bridesmaids, joking with the best man, keeping your mom’s meltdown under control with that smooth voice of his. But every time he passed you, every time his shoulder brushed yours or his hand grazed your waist as though “helping you move aside,” you felt it. That sharp reminder of last night, still burning on your skin.

You caught his smirk once in the mirror, fleeting but deliberate, like a secret only you two shared. Your heart dropped into your stomach. You tried to focus on your mom, on her happiness, on anything else. But Heeseung wouldn’t let you forget. He never raised suspicion, never crossed the line in front of the others, but it was in the way he leaned a little too close when he spoke to you, the way his eyes lingered on your lips when you weren’t looking, the ghost of his fingers brushing against your hand as he took something from you.

And when you flinched, when you looked away too fast, you could feel his grin even without seeing it. The chaos swirled around you, but you weren’t thinking about flowers, or vows, or the clock ticking down to the ceremony. All you could think about was the man at the center of it all, your mother’s soon-to-be husband, watching you like you were his real prize.

Your mom’s laughter rings out from the hallway, bright and unknowing, and that’s exactly when Heeseung makes his move. A warm palm settles on the small of your back, steady and firm, guiding you a step away from the bridal party bustle. “You almost slipped away,” he murmurs, low enough that no one else can hear. His thumb presses into the fabric of your dress, claiming. “God, look at you—” His eyes drag over you shamelessly, not a trace of fatherly affection in them. “Too gorgeous for your own good.”

You swallow, trying to step back, but he doesn’t let you. His body shifts, a wall of heat between you and the open doorway. “Heeseung—” you whisper, nervous, guilt already blooming in your chest. “What?” he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth curving into something dangerous. “I’m not allowed to say you’re beautiful? You think your mom doesn’t know that I know what she’s marrying me for?” He chuckles, brushing a knuckle under your chin until you meet his eyes. “But she doesn’t get this side of me. You do.” By the time he’s pulling you into the bridal suite under the excuse of letting you “rest,” your pulse is frantic. The door clicks shut. Locks. And his jacket is already slipping off his shoulders like this was always inevitable.

“Sit down,” he orders softly, voice all velvet corruption. You hesitate, just for a second, before he’s pushing you back against the vanity mirror, the cool glass pressing into your spine. “You nervous?” His tie falls open, and he smiles when you can’t quite answer. “Don’t be. You’re already mine.” His mouth brushes your ear, filth spilling like scripture.  “Tell me—has anyone ever made you feel like this before?” His hand skims down your waist, teasing the hem of your dress. “No? Then be a good girl and keep quiet… unless you want mommy to hear what her husband’s doing to her little girl.”

His fingers hook into the silky fabric of your dress, tugging it up your thighs with a deliberation that makes your skin burn. The sharp edge of the vanity digs into your back as he steps in closer, towering, his cologne wrapping around you like a noose. “You’re shaking,” he murmurs, thumb brushing the inside of your thigh. “Is it because you’re scared… or because you’ve been waiting for this?” You open your mouth to protest, deny, scream, something, but the only sound that comes out is a pathetic whimper when his hand cups you through your panties. Heeseung smirks.

“Fuck. You’re soaked.” His tone drips with mockery, dark and triumphant. “Knew it. My pretty little girl—wet for her mom’s husband.” Before you can beg him to stop, he shoves the lace aside and slides two fingers over your folds, slow and claiming. When his thumb presses against your clit, you bite down hard on your lip to keep from crying out. “Don’t hide from me,” he warns softly, pressing his forehead against yours. His pace quickens, dragging obscene sounds out of your body. “Let me hear you. You think I give a fuck if someone comes knocking? They’ll know exactly who’s breaking you in here.” The sharp metallic sound of his belt unbuckling makes your stomach twist. His cock is out in seconds, heavy and flushed, precum glistening at the tip. He strokes himself once, twice, before pressing the head against your entrance.

“You ever had a cock this big in you before?” he taunts, voice rough. “Mm, I’ll take that silence as no.” And then he’s pushing in, inch by inch, stretching you to the point of pain. Your nails dig into his shoulders, muffled cries spilling into the crook of his neck. “Shhh, there you go,” Heeseung soothes, though his hips don’t slow. “Take it all for me. That’s it—fuck—you feel so tight I could lose my mind.” When he bottoms out, buried to the hilt, he doesn’t move right away. He just watches you, lips curled into a cruel, reverent smile. “You’re mine now,” he whispers, hips snapping forward suddenly, hard enough to make the mirror rattle. “And when we’re done, you’ll still walk down that aisle smiling for your mom. But you’ll know this—” his hand comes up, wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your eyes widen—“that pussy belongs to me.”

The muffled hum of the reception carried faintly through the heavy hotel walls, laughter, clinking glasses, a song you could barely place. You should’ve been out there, standing by your mother’s side, smiling politely for relatives. Instead, you were in the bridal suite, dress tugged half-off, back pressed hard against the vanity. Heeseung stood between your shaking thighs, tux jacket discarded, shirt sleeves rolled. His tie was wrapped loosely around his fist, binding your wrists together above your head, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror.

“Pathetic little thing,” he murmured against your ear, dragging his cock along your slit. “Can you see how wet you are for me? On your mom’s wedding night?” His lips brushed your temple before he spat, letting the mess drip onto your tongue as you whimpered. He smirked when you swallowed, trembling. Your reflection looked ruined, lipstick smeared, eyes glazed, chest heaving under the bodice of your dress. Heeseung angled your chin with a rough hand, forcing you to meet your own gaze in the mirror.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you belong to me, not her.” You shook your head weakly, but his fat cock was already stretching you open, forcing you to take him inch by inch. The cry that tore out of you was muffled instantly by his palm over your mouth. “Shh—be quiet or mommy will hear,” he hissed, hips driving forward until he bottomed out. Your body arched off the vanity, dress bunched at your waist, your thighs trembling around him. Tears welled as he held you there, stuffed full, his cock thick and relentless. He let you feel every throb, every vein pressing into your walls. “Fuck—look at that.” His free hand slipped down, splaying across your lower stomach, pressing just hard enough to make you feel how deep he was. “No one’s ever made you feel like this, have they? Not one of those boys you thought about late at night. Only me.”

You babbled against his palm, incoherent pleas muffled as he dragged you off the vanity and shoved you onto the bed. The tie still bound your wrists above your head. He flipped you onto your stomach, pushed your face into the sheets, and slammed back inside. Every thrust was brutal, shaking the frame, your muffled whimpers nearly lost to the distant music from the reception. He bent over you, lips brushing your ear. “Cry into the pillows, baby. Mommy’s guests are still out there drinking champagne, don’t want them to hear how good I’m fucking you.”

Your thighs quaked as he pounded into you, your body breaking under the stretch of his cock. He kept one hand on your throat, tugging your head back just enough so you had to arch, choking out desperate whines. When your body shuddered and the climax tore through you, he laughed low against your skin. “Already? My tight little slut, falling apart on this cock so fast.”

He wasn’t done. He dragged you to the edge of the bed, your legs dangling, and split you open again in missionary, pinning your bound wrists against the mattress so you had no choice but to look at him. His thrusts were merciless, eyes locked on yours, sweat dripping from his temple.

“Keep looking,” he growled. “Watch me ruin you. Watch yourself give me everything.” Your moans dissolved into broken whimpers, tears streaking your cheeks as his cock hit deeper, relentless. He leaned down, spit dripping into your open mouth, his hand squeezing your throat while he forced the sounds from you. “Be my good girl. Take it. All of it. Mommy doesn’t need to know, but you will. You’ll remember who owns this body.” “Uh-uh, don’t think we’re done. Gonna keep going till this pussy milks me dry.” Heeseung pinned your wrists above your head, hips slamming into you mercilessly. You writhed, overstimulated, begging through broken sobs, but his mouth hushed you with a filthy kiss.

Your second orgasm ripped through you, then a third, your body shaking violently as tears streamed down your temples. Heeseung groaned at the sight, fucking you through every wave. “Crying so pretty for me. Look at you, so fucking good. My perfect little bride.” He pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach, dragging your hips up. His cock slid back in with a wet slap, deeper now, his thrusts angled to bruise. “You’re mine,” he panted, voice low, dangerous. “Gonna stuff you so full you won’t be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow.”

When he came, it was with a guttural growl, hips driving hard against yours as he spilled into you. Hot spurts filled you again and again, his cock jerking with each pulse. He stayed buried, pressing your hips back to his, making sure none of it escaped. But he didn’t stop. Even while you trembled beneath him, even while your overstimulated sobs turned into babbles, he kept moving, slower now, but relentless. Breeding you, filling you again until his cum dripped down your thighs and his name was the only word you could choke out. And only then, when you were a ruined mess beneath him, did Heeseung soften. He eased out slowly, watching his seed spill from your swollen hole before pushing two fingers inside to tuck it back in. You whimpered, too sensitive, but his lips brushed your ear in apology.  You were trembling, wrists raw from the tie, dress ruined, throat sore from holding back screams. Heeseung kissed the corner of your mouth. He smirked down at your wrecked form, smoothing hair off your damp forehead. “Perfect,” he whispered. “Shhh. I know, baby. It’s okay. You did so good for me.” His voice was honey now, his chest pressed to your back, arms wrapping around your waist as his cock rested heavy against your thigh. “My good girl. All mine.” He kissed the salt of your tears, whispered praise against your temple, and held you tight while his cum seeped warm and deep inside you.

Your body trembles, completely wrung out and sore from the way Heeseung just used you, but the room is finally quiet again, save for your unsteady breathing and his heartbeat hammering against your back. You try to shift, whimpering from the sensitivity, but his hand on your stomach stills you instantly. “Shh, baby… don’t move. Let me take care of you.” His voice is nothing like the filthy, taunting rasp from minutes ago. It’s soft, almost reverent. The contrast makes your chest ache.

You feel ruined, thighs shaky, throat raw from muffling moans, but he presses kisses over every bit of exposed skin he can reach. Down your stomach, up your collarbone, along your jaw. Almost apologetic. “Look at you,” he murmurs, brushing damp hair from your forehead. “So good for me. Took me so well. I’m so proud of you, baby.” Your eyes flutter, the praise sinking into your bones. You let out a little noise, half-satisfied sigh, half-whimper, and he smiles.

“I know it’s sore. Let me fix it.” He slips away only long enough to grab a warm towel from the bathroom, returning to clean you up with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten even more. Each pass of the cloth is slow, deliberate; he’s not rushing this part. Once you’re clean, he pulls the blankets up and tucks you against his side, your head on his chest. His big hand rubs slow circles over your back, grounding you.

“You did so well keeping quiet for me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know it wasn’t easy with mommy just in the other room. You’re mine now, baby. Always mine.” His words settle heavy in your stomach, not manipulative now but claiming, almost protective. And when his thumb strokes over your cheekbone, when he murmurs again how proud he is of you, you feel the sting of tears in your eyes. He doesn’t stop until you’re fully relaxed, every last tremor smoothed away by his voice and his touch. By the time sleep tugs at you, his arms are still firm around you, his lips still brushing over your hair. “Rest, princess,” he whispers. “I’ve got you. Always. Now, let’s go fix your makeup before mommy starts wondering where you’ve been.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

masterlist

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

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

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

[enbplvr]

Absolutely in love with your writing🥹😭💋

[swiftjay23]

after effects of aphrodisiacs- im a slut for hee so if you could like continue it with aftercare and the like reader gets pregnant cause he really did a number on her and if you could make him territorial (?) (its upto you if you want to make it for the rest of the members too🤷‍♀️ idm)

you wrote so slay in my first request 😭😭 literally served ate devoured cleaned😈

Naurr thank you so much queenn! <3 also, were do you get such ideas, cus can I have some of your sexy mind 🛐😫This is making me feel some things that I shouldn't on a Thursday..

Since you're such a diva (so is you're request pls I'm drooling-) Imma give you EXACTLY what you asked for, my sweet.

Hee's about to get you😈

Title: Even More Mine

Genre: Smut, Angst with Comfort, Soft Possessiveness, Breeding Kink

Warnings:

Explicit sexual content (MDNI), Breeding kink / impregnation, Aftercare (emotional + physical), Mild overstimulation, Territorial / possessive behavior, Mentions of aphrodisiacs (previous scene), Marking (hickeys/bruises), Pregnancy mention and reveal, Slight public possessiveness (non-aggressive), Dom/sub dynamics (soft dom), Language

Content Tags:

breeding kink, breeding talk, possessive partner, soft aftercare, marking, breeding obsession, creampie, oversimulation, pregnancy reveal, quiet dominance, love confession through actions, protective behavior, subtle jealousy, scent marking (clothing), public possessiveness, size difference

Pairing: Lee Heeseung × Female Reader

Summary: What started with the heat of an aphrodisiac doesn’t end when the high fades. Heeseung isn’t just relentless in bed; he’s deliberate, claiming you in the most permanent way possible. From the bruises on your hips to the quiet, grounding hand at your waist in public, his possessiveness is a constant hum under the surface. After one night of slow, intentional breeding and tender aftercare, you start to notice the signs of something more. When two pink lines confirm it, the moment you tell him is nothing like you imagined, it’s quieter, deeper, and somehow even more consuming than the night that started it all.

The room still smelled like sweat, sex, and the faint, cloying sweetness of the chocolates that started all of this. You could barely breathe, chest heaving against the mattress, legs shaking uncontrollably where Heeseung had them hooked over his shoulders. He was still inside you, thick, throbbing, and impossibly deep, grinding slow but heavy, like he was trying to make every drop of him stay there.

He wasn’t ready to stop. Not even close.

“You feel that?” His voice was ragged, breath brushing against your ear as he leaned over you. “Every time you twitch—” his hips drove forward hard, wringing out a startled moan from you, “—you pull me in deeper. Like your body’s begging me to give you more.”

Your nails dug into his biceps, but you couldn’t form words, couldn’t even beg for a break because your body was caught between pleasure and exhaustion. The aphrodisiac had burned through him like wildfire, but it was his own hunger, the need to claim you, fill you, mark you, that kept him going. His mouth grazes your temple. “You feel it, don’t you?” His tone is low, coaxing. “How deep I am. How warm you are. Your body’s ready to take it.”

A shiver runs through you. His hips shift, slow, dragging him against oversensitive flesh. It’s not about chasing his own pleasure anymore; it’s about making every inch count, about working himself in deep enough that you know what he’s putting there will stay.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, tilting your chin so your eyes meet his. His stare is unreadable, not wild like earlier, but focused, narrowed. “You know what I’m doing, right?” You swallow. “You’re… you’re—”

“Breeding you,” he finishes for you. “Filling you until it takes.” His voice drops to a whisper, and it’s worse than if he’d shouted it. “You’re going to carry me. Mine, in every way.” His hands gripped your waist hard enough to bruise. “Not enough. Not yet.” Heeseung’s thrusts picked up pace, rough and shallow, deliberately forcing his cum deeper into your overstimulated heat. “I can still feel you leaking… and I don’t fucking like it.”

It was primal. Territorial. Every groan sounded like he was staking a claim on you. His lips pressed to your jaw, your neck, then latched on hard enough to leave deep purple marks, territory only he would touch.

By the time he finally slowed, your skin was slick with sweat, your voice was wrecked from the sounds he’d pulled out of you, and you felt him twitch inside you one last time before spilling again, thick and warm. He stayed there, hips pressed flush to yours, holding you in place like he was afraid it might spill out if he moved too soon. When he finally pulled out, you whimpered at the loss, thighs instinctively trying to close. He caught them, pressing a kiss to your inner knee. “Easy, angel… let me take care of you.”

The switch was jarring, gone was the wild, relentless force, replaced with slow, gentle touches. Heeseung grabbed a warm cloth, cleaning you carefully, murmuring apologies when you flinched. His hands trembled faintly when he smoothed them over your hips, as if reality had hit him that he’d pushed you to your limit.

When you finally stirred, he sat up, arms sliding beneath your thighs and shoulders in one easy motion. You didn’t have the strength to protest when he carried you straight to the bathroom, the warmth of his chest soaking into your chilled skin. He set you on the counter first, kissing your forehead before running the water in the tub. 

The water steamed as he guided you in, slipping in behind you so your back could rest against his chest. His big hands worked slowly over you with a soft washcloth, careful with the bruised spots, kissing each mark he’d left, the ones blooming along your throat, the crescents on your hips. He didn’t say sorry for them. If anything, he lingered on each one like he was proud.

When he was done, he wrapped you in the fluffiest towel he could find, carrying you back to bed. “You did so well for me,” he whispered, kissing your temple before helping you into one of his shirts. “Perfect. You’re mine… only mine.” His hoodie was next, the fabric swallowing you whole, still warm from his skin. You felt the brush of his mouth against the crown of your head as he pulled the covers up around you.

He tucked you against his chest under the blankets, big hand rubbing slow circles on your back until your breathing steadied. He didn’t fall asleep right away, just lay there, watching you like he was memorizing your face, brushing stray hair from your forehead.

It started small. The way his hand found your waist every time you were in public. The way his gaze sharpened if someone else’s lingered on you too long.

At the grocery store, you reached for something on the top shelf, and a stranger stepped forward to help, but Heeseung was already there, pressing in behind you, chest flush to your back as he plucked it down himself. “I’ve got her,” he said, with a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

At a friend’s party, someone joked about how you “looked single” without him next to you. Heeseung appeared at your side like he’d been summoned, arm around your shoulders, lips at your ear. “Do I need to make it obvious?” he murmured, voice dipping dark.

Sometimes it was subtler, the way he’d leave faint marks where only you could see, or make you wear his hoodie when you went out without him. Sometimes it was not subtle at all, like pulling you into his lap in front of his friends just because someone else had looked twice.

You’d been pacing the bedroom for ten minutes, the small plastic stick clutched so tightly in your hand you thought it might snap. The two pink lines stared back at you like they’d been waiting there forever, patient and certain, even as your heartbeat ran wild. The door opened softly, and Heeseung stepped in. Hair damp from the shower, shirt hanging loose over his shoulders, he gave you that slow, lazy smile, until his eyes caught yours. You didn’t say a word, but he froze, gaze flicking down to your clenched fist.

“What’s that?” His voice was low, careful. Like he already knew but needed you to say it.

Your throat felt tight as you uncurled your fingers, showing him the test. You didn’t trust your voice, so you just held it out. He crossed the room in three long strides, taking it from you with hands that were almost too gentle for his size. His gaze locked on the result for a long moment. No dramatic gasp, no sudden words, just a deep, slow inhale that made his chest rise against you when he pulled you into him.

His lips pressed to your temple, lingering there. “Mine,” he whispered. Not a question, not just about the baby, about you, about everything. His hand slid down to your stomach, spreading wide over the spot like he could shield both of you from the world. “You’re carrying my child.”

You felt the warmth of his breath when he said it, the quiet reverence under the claim. He wasn’t shaking, but his grip on your waist was firm enough to anchor you both. He didn’t pull back to look at you. He stayed close, head bent so his forehead rested against yours. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, voice dropping lower, “I’m never letting anyone near you. Not now. Not ever.” His thumb stroked slow circles against your belly as if memorizing it already, the other hand holding the back of your neck so you couldn’t look away. “We’re making a family,” he said, and there was something raw in the way he said it, a quiet hunger beneath the softness.

When you finally managed a shaky, “Are you happy?” he almost laughed, but it was quiet, almost disbelieving. “I’m yours,” he said simply, kissing you like a promise. “And now, you’re even more mine.”

swiftjay23

2h

Anonymous asked:

can you please write one for where sunghoon absolutley rails his innocent finace in to another dimension

Heyy hii! I a hundred percent am and you know it cus im absolutely feral for park sunghoon.

Thanks for requesting!

Title: Til the Sheets are Ruined

Pairing: Park Sunghoon × f!Reader (newlyweds)

Genre: Explicit smut, possessive husband, innocent wife corruption

Warnings: NSFW / MINORS DNI — unprotected sex (m↔f), rough sex, manhandling, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, dirty talk, bridal clothing kink, drool, praise/possessive mix, slight hair pulling, intensity from start to finish.

Your wedding had been perfect. Every detail, the way sunlight streamed through the cathedral’s stained glass, the delicate scent of white roses that clung to your dress, the way Sunghoon had looked at you like you were the only person in the universe, had felt like a dream. You’d walked down the aisle with your heart fluttering, thinking how lucky you were to be marrying someone so impossibly strong and tender at the same time. His suit was immaculate, his hair perfectly styled, but it was his eyes that had stolen your breath, dark and unwavering, filled with a hunger you hadn’t fully understood… not yet.

Vows had been exchanged in whispers and tears, promises made to protect, to cherish, to love… and when he kissed you at the end, it had been electric, leaving your knees weak. You had smiled, laughed, and clung to him, thinking your life with him couldn’t get any more perfect.

But Sunghoon had other plans.

Later, alone, the wedding glow still clinging to your skin, Sunghoon pressed you against the wall of your suite. Hands gripped your hips like he could crush you in the best way, lips smashing onto yours, teeth grazing, tongue invading, and you moaned instantly, heat pooling between your thighs. You were his, utterly his, and he was about to prove it.

And now? Now the hotel suite door clicked shut, and he actually was.

“You looked so fucking pretty today,” he muttered, voice low, already crowding you against the wall. His hands were everywhere—palming your waist, sliding under the layers of your dress, gripping at your thigh hard enough to make you gasp. “Everyone saw you walk down that aisle, but you’re mine now. Mine to touch, mine to fuck.”

The sheer force of his mouth on yours had you dizzy, lips parting on a needy sound you couldn’t hide. His tongue swept in, dominating, tasting you like he’d been starved all day—and he had been.

You barely registered him reaching for the zipper at the back of your gown before he growled, impatient, and simply shoved the skirts up to your hips instead. “I’m not waiting,” he said, voice all grit and hunger. “Been hard since you said ‘I do.’”

Your heels clicked against the polished floor as he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The moment his bulge pressed against the thin lace between your thighs, you whimpered—and that was it.

He carried you to the bed and threw you onto it, the gown fanning out around you like a halo. He stood at the foot, dark eyes raking over you, and you swore you could feel him undressing you with his gaze alone. “God, look at you,” he said, unbuckling his belt in one sharp motion. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

You barely got the chance to answer before he was on you again, pushing your dress up past your waist and yanking your panties down your thighs. He dropped to his knees between your legs and spread you open like he owned you—which, after today, he did.

One slow lick from your entrance to your clit had you arching off the bed, a broken gasp falling from your lips. “H-hoon—”

“Shh,” he murmured against you, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking until your legs shook. “Let me taste my wife.”

It was relentless—the way he licked, sucked, and groaned into you like you were his last meal. By the time you came, he was gripping your hips to keep you from escaping, tongue fucking you through the aftershocks until you were trembling.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glazed with lust. “That’s one. I’m not stopping until you can’t walk back down the aisle if you tried.”

Before you could catch your breath, he was shoving his pants down and pressing the thick, leaking head of his cock against your soaked entrance. The first push had you gasping, nails digging into his shoulders.

“So tight,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours as he bottomed out. “My innocent little wife, taking all of me.”

The pace he set was brutal—deep, unyielding thrusts that had your gown slipping down your shoulders, beads in your hair tangling as you writhed beneath him. His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Eyes on me while I fuck you,” he demanded.

You could only nod, tears welling from the intensity, mouth falling open with every thrust.

“Feel that?” he gritted, hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. “That’s me making sure you remember who you belong to.”

The knot in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter until you broke with a cry, your walls clenching around him. He groaned, dropping his head to your neck. “Fuck—gonna fill you up—”

The hot rush of his release had you gasping, but he didn’t stop. Not even when you whimpered from the overstimulation. “One more,” he rasped, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “I married you. You’re mine. I’m not letting you sleep until you’re dripping with me.”

And he didn’t.

By the time he finally collapsed beside you, your dress was halfway off, your legs refused to close, and the sheets were an absolute mess. His arm curled around your waist, pulling you into him, lips brushing your ear.

“Perfect wedding,” he murmured. “Perfect wife. Now… rest up. I’m not done with you yet.”

masterlist

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

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

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

[enbplvr]

Seriously love your writings💋

[swiftjay23]

after effects of aphrodisiacs- im a slut for hee so if you could like continue it with aftercare and the like reader gets pregnant cause he really did a number on her and if you could make him territorial (?) (its upto you if you want to make it for the rest of the members too🤷‍♀️ idm)

you wrote so slay in my first request 😭😭 literally served ate devoured cleaned😈

Naurr thank you so much queenn! <3 also, were do you get such ideas, cus can I have some of your sexy mind 🛐😫This is making me feel some things that I shouldn't on a Thursday..

Since you're such a diva (so is you're request pls I'm drooling-) Imma give you EXACTLY what you asked for, my sweet.

Hee's about to get you😈

Title: Even More Mine

Genre: Smut, Angst with Comfort, Soft Possessiveness, Breeding Kink

Warnings:

Explicit sexual content (MDNI), Breeding kink / impregnation, Aftercare (emotional + physical), Mild overstimulation, Territorial / possessive behavior, Mentions of aphrodisiacs (previous scene), Marking (hickeys/bruises), Pregnancy mention and reveal, Slight public possessiveness (non-aggressive), Dom/sub dynamics (soft dom), Language

Content Tags:

breeding kink, breeding talk, possessive partner, soft aftercare, marking, breeding obsession, creampie, oversimulation, pregnancy reveal, quiet dominance, love confession through actions, protective behavior, subtle jealousy, scent marking (clothing), public possessiveness, size difference

Pairing: Lee Heeseung × Female Reader

Summary: What started with the heat of an aphrodisiac doesn’t end when the high fades. Heeseung isn’t just relentless in bed; he’s deliberate, claiming you in the most permanent way possible. From the bruises on your hips to the quiet, grounding hand at your waist in public, his possessiveness is a constant hum under the surface. After one night of slow, intentional breeding and tender aftercare, you start to notice the signs of something more. When two pink lines confirm it, the moment you tell him is nothing like you imagined, it’s quieter, deeper, and somehow even more consuming than the night that started it all.

The room still smelled like sweat, sex, and the faint, cloying sweetness of the chocolates that started all of this. You could barely breathe, chest heaving against the mattress, legs shaking uncontrollably where Heeseung had them hooked over his shoulders. He was still inside you, thick, throbbing, and impossibly deep, grinding slow but heavy, like he was trying to make every drop of him stay there.

He wasn’t ready to stop. Not even close.

“You feel that?” His voice was ragged, breath brushing against your ear as he leaned over you. “Every time you twitch—” his hips drove forward hard, wringing out a startled moan from you, “—you pull me in deeper. Like your body’s begging me to give you more.”

Your nails dug into his biceps, but you couldn’t form words, couldn’t even beg for a break because your body was caught between pleasure and exhaustion. The aphrodisiac had burned through him like wildfire, but it was his own hunger, the need to claim you, fill you, mark you, that kept him going. His mouth grazes your temple. “You feel it, don’t you?” His tone is low, coaxing. “How deep I am. How warm you are. Your body’s ready to take it.”

A shiver runs through you. His hips shift, slow, dragging him against oversensitive flesh. It’s not about chasing his own pleasure anymore; it’s about making every inch count, about working himself in deep enough that you know what he’s putting there will stay.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, tilting your chin so your eyes meet his. His stare is unreadable, not wild like earlier, but focused, narrowed. “You know what I’m doing, right?” You swallow. “You’re… you’re—”

“Breeding you,” he finishes for you. “Filling you until it takes.” His voice drops to a whisper, and it’s worse than if he’d shouted it. “You’re going to carry me. Mine, in every way.” His hands gripped your waist hard enough to bruise. “Not enough. Not yet.” Heeseung’s thrusts picked up pace, rough and shallow, deliberately forcing his cum deeper into your overstimulated heat. “I can still feel you leaking… and I don’t fucking like it.”

It was primal. Territorial. Every groan sounded like he was staking a claim on you. His lips pressed to your jaw, your neck, then latched on hard enough to leave deep purple marks, territory only he would touch.

By the time he finally slowed, your skin was slick with sweat, your voice was wrecked from the sounds he’d pulled out of you, and you felt him twitch inside you one last time before spilling again, thick and warm. He stayed there, hips pressed flush to yours, holding you in place like he was afraid it might spill out if he moved too soon. When he finally pulled out, you whimpered at the loss, thighs instinctively trying to close. He caught them, pressing a kiss to your inner knee. “Easy, angel… let me take care of you.”

The switch was jarring, gone was the wild, relentless force, replaced with slow, gentle touches. Heeseung grabbed a warm cloth, cleaning you carefully, murmuring apologies when you flinched. His hands trembled faintly when he smoothed them over your hips, as if reality had hit him that he’d pushed you to your limit.

When you finally stirred, he sat up, arms sliding beneath your thighs and shoulders in one easy motion. You didn’t have the strength to protest when he carried you straight to the bathroom, the warmth of his chest soaking into your chilled skin. He set you on the counter first, kissing your forehead before running the water in the tub. 

The water steamed as he guided you in, slipping in behind you so your back could rest against his chest. His big hands worked slowly over you with a soft washcloth, careful with the bruised spots, kissing each mark he’d left, the ones blooming along your throat, the crescents on your hips. He didn’t say sorry for them. If anything, he lingered on each one like he was proud.

When he was done, he wrapped you in the fluffiest towel he could find, carrying you back to bed. “You did so well for me,” he whispered, kissing your temple before helping you into one of his shirts. “Perfect. You’re mine… only mine.” His hoodie was next, the fabric swallowing you whole, still warm from his skin. You felt the brush of his mouth against the crown of your head as he pulled the covers up around you.

He tucked you against his chest under the blankets, big hand rubbing slow circles on your back until your breathing steadied. He didn’t fall asleep right away, just lay there, watching you like he was memorizing your face, brushing stray hair from your forehead.

It started small. The way his hand found your waist every time you were in public. The way his gaze sharpened if someone else’s lingered on you too long.

At the grocery store, you reached for something on the top shelf, and a stranger stepped forward to help, but Heeseung was already there, pressing in behind you, chest flush to your back as he plucked it down himself. “I’ve got her,” he said, with a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

At a friend’s party, someone joked about how you “looked single” without him next to you. Heeseung appeared at your side like he’d been summoned, arm around your shoulders, lips at your ear. “Do I need to make it obvious?” he murmured, voice dipping dark.

Sometimes it was subtler, the way he’d leave faint marks where only you could see, or make you wear his hoodie when you went out without him. Sometimes it was not subtle at all, like pulling you into his lap in front of his friends just because someone else had looked twice.

You’d been pacing the bedroom for ten minutes, the small plastic stick clutched so tightly in your hand you thought it might snap. The two pink lines stared back at you like they’d been waiting there forever, patient and certain, even as your heartbeat ran wild. The door opened softly, and Heeseung stepped in. Hair damp from the shower, shirt hanging loose over his shoulders, he gave you that slow, lazy smile, until his eyes caught yours. You didn’t say a word, but he froze, gaze flicking down to your clenched fist.

“What’s that?” His voice was low, careful. Like he already knew but needed you to say it.

Your throat felt tight as you uncurled your fingers, showing him the test. You didn’t trust your voice, so you just held it out. He crossed the room in three long strides, taking it from you with hands that were almost too gentle for his size. His gaze locked on the result for a long moment. No dramatic gasp, no sudden words, just a deep, slow inhale that made his chest rise against you when he pulled you into him.

His lips pressed to your temple, lingering there. “Mine,” he whispered. Not a question, not just about the baby, about you, about everything. His hand slid down to your stomach, spreading wide over the spot like he could shield both of you from the world. “You’re carrying my child.”

You felt the warmth of his breath when he said it, the quiet reverence under the claim. He wasn’t shaking, but his grip on your waist was firm enough to anchor you both. He didn’t pull back to look at you. He stayed close, head bent so his forehead rested against yours. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, voice dropping lower, “I’m never letting anyone near you. Not now. Not ever.” His thumb stroked slow circles against your belly as if memorizing it already, the other hand holding the back of your neck so you couldn’t look away. “We’re making a family,” he said, and there was something raw in the way he said it, a quiet hunger beneath the softness.

When you finally managed a shaky, “Are you happy?” he almost laughed, but it was quiet, almost disbelieving. “I’m yours,” he said simply, kissing you like a promise. “And now, you’re even more mine.”

swiftjay23

2h

Anonymous asked:

can you please write one for where sunghoon absolutley rails his innocent finace in to another dimension

Heyy hii! I a hundred percent am and you know it cus im absolutely feral for park sunghoon.

Thanks for requesting!

Title: Til the Sheets are Ruined

Pairing: Park Sunghoon × f!Reader (newlyweds)

Genre: Explicit smut, possessive husband, innocent wife corruption

Warnings: NSFW / MINORS DNI — unprotected sex (m↔f), rough sex, manhandling, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, dirty talk, bridal clothing kink, drool, praise/possessive mix, slight hair pulling, intensity from start to finish.

Your wedding had been perfect. Every detail, the way sunlight streamed through the cathedral’s stained glass, the delicate scent of white roses that clung to your dress, the way Sunghoon had looked at you like you were the only person in the universe, had felt like a dream. You’d walked down the aisle with your heart fluttering, thinking how lucky you were to be marrying someone so impossibly strong and tender at the same time. His suit was immaculate, his hair perfectly styled, but it was his eyes that had stolen your breath, dark and unwavering, filled with a hunger you hadn’t fully understood… not yet.

Vows had been exchanged in whispers and tears, promises made to protect, to cherish, to love… and when he kissed you at the end, it had been electric, leaving your knees weak. You had smiled, laughed, and clung to him, thinking your life with him couldn’t get any more perfect.

But Sunghoon had other plans.

Later, alone, the wedding glow still clinging to your skin, Sunghoon pressed you against the wall of your suite. Hands gripped your hips like he could crush you in the best way, lips smashing onto yours, teeth grazing, tongue invading, and you moaned instantly, heat pooling between your thighs. You were his, utterly his, and he was about to prove it.

And now? Now the hotel suite door clicked shut, and he actually was.

“You looked so fucking pretty today,” he muttered, voice low, already crowding you against the wall. His hands were everywhere—palming your waist, sliding under the layers of your dress, gripping at your thigh hard enough to make you gasp. “Everyone saw you walk down that aisle, but you’re mine now. Mine to touch, mine to fuck.”

The sheer force of his mouth on yours had you dizzy, lips parting on a needy sound you couldn’t hide. His tongue swept in, dominating, tasting you like he’d been starved all day—and he had been.

You barely registered him reaching for the zipper at the back of your gown before he growled, impatient, and simply shoved the skirts up to your hips instead. “I’m not waiting,” he said, voice all grit and hunger. “Been hard since you said ‘I do.’”

Your heels clicked against the polished floor as he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The moment his bulge pressed against the thin lace between your thighs, you whimpered—and that was it.

He carried you to the bed and threw you onto it, the gown fanning out around you like a halo. He stood at the foot, dark eyes raking over you, and you swore you could feel him undressing you with his gaze alone. “God, look at you,” he said, unbuckling his belt in one sharp motion. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

You barely got the chance to answer before he was on you again, pushing your dress up past your waist and yanking your panties down your thighs. He dropped to his knees between your legs and spread you open like he owned you—which, after today, he did.

One slow lick from your entrance to your clit had you arching off the bed, a broken gasp falling from your lips. “H-hoon—”

“Shh,” he murmured against you, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking until your legs shook. “Let me taste my wife.”

It was relentless—the way he licked, sucked, and groaned into you like you were his last meal. By the time you came, he was gripping your hips to keep you from escaping, tongue fucking you through the aftershocks until you were trembling.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glazed with lust. “That’s one. I’m not stopping until you can’t walk back down the aisle if you tried.”

Before you could catch your breath, he was shoving his pants down and pressing the thick, leaking head of his cock against your soaked entrance. The first push had you gasping, nails digging into his shoulders.

“So tight,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours as he bottomed out. “My innocent little wife, taking all of me.”

The pace he set was brutal—deep, unyielding thrusts that had your gown slipping down your shoulders, beads in your hair tangling as you writhed beneath him. His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Eyes on me while I fuck you,” he demanded.

You could only nod, tears welling from the intensity, mouth falling open with every thrust.

“Feel that?” he gritted, hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. “That’s me making sure you remember who you belong to.”

The knot in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter until you broke with a cry, your walls clenching around him. He groaned, dropping his head to your neck. “Fuck—gonna fill you up—”

The hot rush of his release had you gasping, but he didn’t stop. Not even when you whimpered from the overstimulation. “One more,” he rasped, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “I married you. You’re mine. I’m not letting you sleep until you’re dripping with me.”

And he didn’t.

By the time he finally collapsed beside you, your dress was halfway off, your legs refused to close, and the sheets were an absolute mess. His arm curled around your waist, pulling you into him, lips brushing your ear.

“Perfect wedding,” he murmured. “Perfect wife. Now… rest up. I’m not done with you yet.”

masterlist

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

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

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

[enbplvr]

Seriously love your writings💋

[swiftjay23]

can you please write one for where sunghoon absolutley rails his innocent finace in to another dimension

Heyy hii! I a hundred percent am and you know it cus im absolutely feral for park sunghoon.

Thanks for requesting!

Title: Til the Sheets are Ruined

Pairing: Park Sunghoon × f!Reader (newlyweds)

Genre: Explicit smut, possessive husband, innocent wife corruption

Warnings: NSFW / MINORS DNI — unprotected sex (m↔f), rough sex, manhandling, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, dirty talk, bridal clothing kink, drool, praise/possessive mix, slight hair pulling, intensity from start to finish.

Your wedding had been perfect. Every detail, the way sunlight streamed through the cathedral’s stained glass, the delicate scent of white roses that clung to your dress, the way Sunghoon had looked at you like you were the only person in the universe, had felt like a dream. You’d walked down the aisle with your heart fluttering, thinking how lucky you were to be marrying someone so impossibly strong and tender at the same time. His suit was immaculate, his hair perfectly styled, but it was his eyes that had stolen your breath, dark and unwavering, filled with a hunger you hadn’t fully understood… not yet.

Vows had been exchanged in whispers and tears, promises made to protect, to cherish, to love… and when he kissed you at the end, it had been electric, leaving your knees weak. You had smiled, laughed, and clung to him, thinking your life with him couldn’t get any more perfect.

But Sunghoon had other plans.

Later, alone, the wedding glow still clinging to your skin, Sunghoon pressed you against the wall of your suite. Hands gripped your hips like he could crush you in the best way, lips smashing onto yours, teeth grazing, tongue invading, and you moaned instantly, heat pooling between your thighs. You were his, utterly his, and he was about to prove it.

And now? Now the hotel suite door clicked shut, and he actually was.

“You looked so fucking pretty today,” he muttered, voice low, already crowding you against the wall. His hands were everywhere—palming your waist, sliding under the layers of your dress, gripping at your thigh hard enough to make you gasp. “Everyone saw you walk down that aisle, but you’re mine now. Mine to touch, mine to fuck.”

The sheer force of his mouth on yours had you dizzy, lips parting on a needy sound you couldn’t hide. His tongue swept in, dominating, tasting you like he’d been starved all day—and he had been.

You barely registered him reaching for the zipper at the back of your gown before he growled, impatient, and simply shoved the skirts up to your hips instead. “I’m not waiting,” he said, voice all grit and hunger. “Been hard since you said ‘I do.’”

Your heels clicked against the polished floor as he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The moment his bulge pressed against the thin lace between your thighs, you whimpered—and that was it.

He carried you to the bed and threw you onto it, the gown fanning out around you like a halo. He stood at the foot, dark eyes raking over you, and you swore you could feel him undressing you with his gaze alone. “God, look at you,” he said, unbuckling his belt in one sharp motion. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

You barely got the chance to answer before he was on you again, pushing your dress up past your waist and yanking your panties down your thighs. He dropped to his knees between your legs and spread you open like he owned you—which, after today, he did.

One slow lick from your entrance to your clit had you arching off the bed, a broken gasp falling from your lips. “H-hoon—”

“Shh,” he murmured against you, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking until your legs shook. “Let me taste my wife.”

It was relentless—the way he licked, sucked, and groaned into you like you were his last meal. By the time you came, he was gripping your hips to keep you from escaping, tongue fucking you through the aftershocks until you were trembling.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glazed with lust. “That’s one. I’m not stopping until you can’t walk back down the aisle if you tried.”

Before you could catch your breath, he was shoving his pants down and pressing the thick, leaking head of his cock against your soaked entrance. The first push had you gasping, nails digging into his shoulders.

“So tight,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours as he bottomed out. “My innocent little wife, taking all of me.”

The pace he set was brutal—deep, unyielding thrusts that had your gown slipping down your shoulders, beads in your hair tangling as you writhed beneath him. His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Eyes on me while I fuck you,” he demanded.

You could only nod, tears welling from the intensity, mouth falling open with every thrust.

“Feel that?” he gritted, hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. “That’s me making sure you remember who you belong to.”

The knot in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter until you broke with a cry, your walls clenching around him. He groaned, dropping his head to your neck. “Fuck—gonna fill you up—”

The hot rush of his release had you gasping, but he didn’t stop. Not even when you whimpered from the overstimulation. “One more,” he rasped, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “I married you. You’re mine. I’m not letting you sleep until you’re dripping with me.”

And he didn’t.

By the time he finally collapsed beside you, your dress was halfway off, your legs refused to close, and the sheets were an absolute mess. His arm curled around your waist, pulling you into him, lips brushing your ear.

“Perfect wedding,” he murmured. “Perfect wife. Now… rest up. I’m not done with you yet.”

masterlist

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

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

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

[enbplvr]

Love your writing as always😍

[swiftjay23]

uhm have u seen 8seconds mullet sunoo???????????? i humbly request a fic pls 🧎🏻‍♀️i NEED him rn

Hey bbyg <3 OH MY FUCKING GODD ARGHHHHHH CAN HE BE MINE?? PLS. PLS. PLS. PLS. PLS. PLS. PLS. PLS. PLS.

LIKE I'M ACTUALLY GONNA SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST- HE IS THE MOST SCRUMPTIOUS BEING MY MORTAL (YES THAT'S A REFERENCE) EYES HAVE LAID THEMSELVES ON.

MY DIVINE BEAUTY.

MDNI | 18+ | Explicit

Warnings:

MDNI / 18+ only, Oral sex (male receiving), Spit, saliva play, Cum swallowing, Hair pulling, Light throat use / face-fucking, Cocky & arrogant Sunoo, Semi-public vibe (in context of him fresh off a public announcement), Lap sex / penetration without full undressing, Possessive dirty talk, Slight choking / hand on throat, Creampie, Minimal prep before penetration, Power-play dynamic (reader kneeling, Sunoo guiding)

The moment the announcement dropped, he wouldn’t shut up about it. Not that you minded, it was hard to take him seriously when he was leaning against the wall in your apartment, hair styled into that sharp mullet that framed his smirk like it was born to be there. The all-black 8seconds outfit clung to him like it was sewn on his skin, making him look more like a sin than a model.

“You saw the numbers already?” he asked, voice dripping with that intoxicating mix of arrogance and amusement. “Hasn’t even been an hour and it’s everywhere.” He tilted his head, the curve of his smirk deepening. “Guess I am the moment.”

You rolled your eyes, but your body betrayed you, you couldn’t stop staring at his lips, the way the gloss caught the light, or the sharp glint in his gaze that told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

He stepped forward until his chest brushed yours, fingers hooking under your chin. “Gonna congratulate me, sweetheart?” he teased, leaning in just enough that his breath brushed your mouth. “Or are you just gonna keep staring like the rest of the world?” Your pulse jumped. “I could think of… a better way to congratulate you.”

The grin that spread across his face was pure trouble. Within seconds, you were sinking to your knees on the hardwood, the cool floor biting into your skin while he loosened his belt. He didn’t break eye contact for a second, not even when he freed himself, thick and heavy in his hand, the flushed tip already slick.

“You’re lucky,” he murmured, brushing the head against your lips, smearing precum across them like gloss. “No one else gets me like this… not even in their dreams.” The moment your tongue slid out to taste him, his breath hitched, just enough to let you know he wasn’t quite as unshakable as he pretended. You opened wider, taking him in slow, letting him feel the drag of your lips around him until the head nudged the back of your throat.

“Fuck—” His hand slid into your hair, gripping tight, nails scraping your scalp as he guided you forward. “Just like that… god, you’re perfect.”

You bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks, saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth. Every time you swallowed around him, he swore under his breath, hips twitching forward just enough to make you gag, and the sound drew the dirtiest chuckle from him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, glancing down at the obscene sight of your lips stretched around him, mullet brushing against his sharp jaw as he tilted his head back in pleasure. “Bet the entire industry would kill to see you like this.”

You moaned around him, the vibration making his grip tighten. His breathing got rougher, the smooth arrogance cracking with every wet glide of your tongue along the vein under his cock. When you started stroking the base with one hand, twisting in rhythm with your mouth, his composure snapped. “Shit— fuck, I’m close—” His voice broke into a gasp as his hips pushed forward, burying himself to the hilt in your throat. Warmth flooded your mouth as he spilled into you, the salty heat coating your tongue. He pulled back just enough to watch you swallow every drop, a wicked grin curling his lips.

When you wiped the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, he crouched down, tilting your chin up so you had to meet his gaze. “Congratulations accepted,” you said, voice hoarse.

Sunoo laughed low in his throat, thumb stroking your jaw. “Baby,” he said, smirk back in full force, “I haven’t even shown you the afterparty yet.” Before you could react, he hauled you up, not gently, either. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you into his lap as he dropped onto the couch, his half-soft cock already pressing against your core through your clothes.

“Thought I was done?” he murmured against your ear, his hands sliding up under your shirt, dragging his nails lightly over your skin until goosebumps chased their path. “Cute.” You barely had time to gasp before he pushed your panties aside and slid the head of his cock against your folds, still slick from your spit and his release. He didn’t bother with a warm-up, just pressed in, slow but unrelenting, filling you until you were choking on a moan.

“That’s it,” he growled, one hand locking around your hip to keep you still. “Sit on it. Feel how deep I am.” You whimpered, the stretch making your thighs shake. He smirked at the sound, one hand sliding up to grip your jaw. “You swallow my cum so well… let’s see how good you are at milking my cock.”

The thrusts started slow, almost lazy, but each one was sharp, angled to make you shiver. Every time you clenched around him, his grip on you tightened, his mouth brushing your ear with filthy praise.

“Fuck, you’re tight… all for me… bet you were dripping when you saw my photos go up, weren’t you? Imagining everyone else drooling over me while I’m buried inside you like this.”

Your answer was a broken moan, your head falling to his shoulder as he fucked up into you harder, chasing another release. His hand slid to your throat, holding you there just enough to make your pulse pound in your ears. When he finally came again, spilling hot inside you, his grip didn’t loosen, not until he was sure you’d taken every drop. Only then did he lean back, grinning like he’d just claimed another trophy.

“Now,” he said, licking his lips as if he was still savoring the taste of your earlier work, “you can say you were the first to get me after the announcement.”

masterlist

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

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

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

[enbplvr]

As a sunoo biased this is so good😭🥹