ᯓ★ˎˊ˗

[evaluvz]

Masterlist

[l3xyisfatal]

my happy, twerking song

[paarksunghoon]

mfs have never used an em dash in their life and now swear up and down that people that know how to are ai. sad.

mind you I actually know how to use grammar and proper punctuation. AI had to learn about em dashes and sentence structure from people feeding fics and other forms of writing into chatgpt

[bella-but-not-hadid444]

pinkerton is THE superior weezer album, none of the rest even come CLOSE to it

[prettybs]

baby im on my knees instantly

[xcolsxx]

FREAK!! 𐙚⋆.˚

🎣— Texts with your 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 boyfriend Ni-ki || pairing: BF! Nishimura riki x FEM! Reader .ೀ

CONTENT: SUGGESTIVE COMMENTS, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP🫐

[evaluvz]

you are the first writer i've seen that consistently writes m×m smut. i hope god blesses you with SO many kittens and puppies and food and money and luxury.

thank yew🥹✌️✌️✌️

[bamjjwi]

he made it EXPLICITLY CLEAR that he is talking to both sides of the fandom right now as well so do not even try to twist his words. he’s addressing everyone.

[yunsera-deactivated20260427]

i wasn’t even gonna say anything or make a post but i can’t stand aside and let this go, i dont care. one thing im gonna do is stand up for my community and the fact that NO ONE is saying anything has me so livid.

i don’t care what account it’s from, i dont care about this person being ot6 right now. what i’m concerned about is why we’re comparing slavery to a fucking KPOP GROUP???? are we serious right now???

with everything black people have been through and are still CURRENTLY GOING THROUGH, your best analogy is slavery ? why do yall always have our names in your mouths? it’s not even about that but do you know what slaves went through? i’m not talking about that shit they “teach” you in school, do you KNOW what slaves went through ???

you don’t because you’d rather be fucking ignorant than to educate yourself on things that matter. slavery is not and will never be anything to joke about. black americans were raped, their babies were used as ALLIGATOR BAIT. they were hanged—and are still being hanged to this day. they were EATEN, there was an entire COOK BOOK MADE TO PREPARE SLAVES. and as if that wasn’t enough, they skinned them alive. there’s so much more but maybe you all should do your own research.

kpop is never that serious to say something like that. EVER. and the fact that no one is holding them accountable for even uttering a sentence like that is so wild but not surprising. i dont care how they meant it, how they were trying to say it, dont EVER in your life compare my people’s suffering to grown ass men that wouldn’t even notice you walk by.

[evaluvz]

@amatariki what was the reason for you to compare fucking SLAVERY to kpop… none of those relate to each other. Idgaf if that persons ot6, even THEY had more sense than you. Who the FUCK compares slavery to kpop.

[evaluvz]

warnings: 18+, handjob, smut, m!riki x m!reader. masterlist

"You're such an idiot sometimes," Ni-ki muttered, running a hand through his hair as he paced the length of the hotel room. The air had tension, the kind that clung to skin like static after a storm.

The argument had started over something stupid—some offhand comment you'd made, some careless joke that Niki took the wrong way. But it had spiraled, sharp words traded like blows until neither of you could remember what the hell you were even fighting about. Now, the silence between you was heavier than the shouting had been.

You leaned against the edge of the bed, arms crossed, watching him move. His jaw was tight, frustration rolling off him in waves, but there was something else underneath it—something hotter, sharper. Something that made your pulse jump despite the anger still simmering in your chest.

Niki stopped pacing abruptly, turning to face you. His eyes were dark, intense in a way that made your breath catch. "You know what?" he said, voice low. "I'm done talking."

Before you could reply, he closed the distance between you in two quick strides. His hands were on your waist, fingers digging in just hard enough to make you gasp—and then his mouth was on yours, hungry and demanding, swallowing any protest you might’ve had.

You barely had time to process the sudden shift—one moment, the air between you was thick with unresolved tension, the next, Niki’s body pressed flush against yours, his kiss searing away the last of your resistance.

His tongue slid against yours, hot and insistent, and you groaned into his mouth, hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt. The anger was still there, simmering beneath your skin, but it had twisted into something else entirely, something desperate and electric.

Niki broke the kiss just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it aside with a frustrated grunt. His chest heaved, skin flushed, and you didn’t hesitate—your palms skated up his torso, nails scraping lightly over his ribs just to hear him hiss.

“You’re such a brat,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it now, just a rough edge of want. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, dragging you forward until you stumbled into him, your hips slotting together with a delicious friction that made both of you shudder.

The bed hit the backs of your knees a second later, Niki pushing you down onto the mattress with a force that bordered on possessive. He climbed over you, knees bracketing your thighs, and leaned down to nip at your jawline, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he breathed, voice ragged, and you arched into him, gasping when his hand slid between your bodies to palm you through your pants. The pressure was maddening, teasing, and you bucked against his touch, earning a low, satisfied chuckle from him. “Yeah? That what you want?”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, not when his fingers were already working your belt open with practiced efficiency. The cool air hit your skin as he tugged your pants down just enough to free you, his grip firm as he stroked you once, twice—slow, torturous drags of his palm that had you biting back a whimper. Niki watched you with half-lidded eyes, his own arousal evident in the way his hips jerked slightly against yours, the heat of him pressing through the fabric of his jeans. “Say it,” he demanded, thumb swiping over the head of your cock just to hear you choke. “Tell me you’re sorry.”

The laugh that tore out of you was breathless, ragged. “Fuck you,” you managed, even as your hips stuttered into his touch. Niki’s grin was sharp, predatory, and before you could brace yourself, he was sinking down, taking you into his mouth with a filthy, wet heat that punched the air from your lungs.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, but he only hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard enough to make your vision blur. The argument, the anger—none of it mattered now, not with the way he was working you over, not with the way he glanced up through his lashes, dark eyes locking onto yours as if to say, *I win*. And god, maybe he did.

Ni-ki pulled off with a wet pop, lips glistening, and your hips jerked uselessly into the empty air. He smirked at the way your breath came in ragged gasps, fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging in silent demand. "So impatient," he murmured

,voice rough, thumb swiping lazily over the head of your cock just to watch you twitch. His grip tightened at the base, squeezing just enough to make your toes curl, the pressure toeing the line between pleasure and pain. "You don’t get to come yet."

You groaned, head falling back against the mattress as he ducked down again, tongue tracing the vein along the underside in a slow, torturous path. Every nerve felt alight, oversensitive and desperate, but Ni-ki kept his pace agonizingly slow, alternating between soft licks and sharp sucks that had your thighs trembling.

Just when the coil in your gut began to tighten, he pulled away again, leaving you achingly empty. "Ni-ki—" you whined, voice breaking, but he only chuckled darkly, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

"You don’t get to beg yet, either," he said, fingers tracing idle circles over your hipbone. His breath was hot against your skin, and you could feel him grinning when you jerked at the sensation. "You pissed me off, remember?" As if to emphasize his point, he dragged his teeth lightly over the same spot, just shy of biting, and you swore under your breath.

The third time he took you into his mouth, you were shaking, fingers clutching at the sheets as he hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard enough to make your back arch off the bed. The heat was unbearable, the slick slide of his tongue relentless, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge—only for Ni-ki to pull off abruptly, leaving you gasping. "Fuck," you choked out, chest heaving. "Please—"

Ni-ki sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark with satisfaction. "There it is," he murmured, crawling up your body until his face hovered inches above yours. His breath was warm against your lips, and you could taste yourself on him when he kissed you, slow and filthy. "Say it properly."

"Fuck—Ni-ki, I'm gonna—" The words tumbled out of you in a broken gasp, fingers twisting in the sheets as pleasure coiled tight in your gut, white-hot and unbearable. Ni-ki didn't relent, his mouth working you over with ruthless precision, tongue dragging along the underside of your cock in a way that had your hips jerking off the bed.

When you came, it was with a choked cry, back arching as he swallowed you down, throat working around you until you were shuddering through the aftershocks, oversensitive and trembling.

“you look so cute like this” he teased,

You barely had the energy to swat at him, limbs still boneless from the aftershocks, but Ni-ki caught your wrist easily, pressing your palm to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. The gesture was unexpectedly tender, softening the edges of the moment, and you exhaled a shaky laugh. "You're insufferable," you muttered, but there was no bite to it—just exhaustion and something dangerously close to fondness.

Ni-ki rolled his eyes, but his fingers were gentle as they traced idle patterns over your hip. "Yeah, yeah," he said, pushing himself up off the bed. "Come on, let's shower. You're disgusting." The insult was undercut by the way he tugged you upright, hands steadying you when your legs nearly gave out, and you leaned into him with a groan.

The shower was cramped, steam curling around you both as Ni-ki crowded you under the spray, his body warm and solid against your back. His hands were methodical as they worked shampoo through your hair, fingers massaging your scalp in a way that had you leaning into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. "You're still pissed at me, aren't you?" you mumbled, tipping your head back to rinse the suds away.

Ni-ki huffed, his breath warm against your shoulder. "Maybe," he admitted, but his arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer. The water sluiced between you, washing away the last traces of tension, and you let yourself relax into him, his chin hooking over your shoulder. "But not as much as I was."

[evaluvz]

“tell me who you belong to”

contains: 18+!! handjob, smut, degradation(?), public sex, m!sunghoon x m!reader.

masterlist now playing

"You spilled my fucking drink," Sunghoon said, voice dangerously quiet as he stared at the dark stain spreading across his designer jeans. The club's neon lights flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows across his clenched jaw.

you smirked, swirling the remains of your cocktail lazily in its glass. "Oops," you said, not sounding sorry at all. "Guess you'll have to take them off."

Sunghoon's fingers twitched against his thigh, the damp denim clinging uncomfortably to his skin. The smirk on your face—that infuriating, cocky little smirk—was going to be the death of him.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, stepping closer until the toes of his shoes bumped yours. "You think this is funny?" he murmured, voice low enough that the bass from the speakers nearly swallowed it whole.

You tipped your head back to meet his gaze, the challenge bright in your eyes. "Kinda," you admitted, fingers toying with the rim of your glass. "You look cute when you're mad."

The words were barely out of your mouth before Sunghoon's hand shot out, snatching the drink from your grip and slamming it onto the nearest table. Liquid sloshed over the edge, but neither of you glanced at it.

Sunghoon’s fingers curled around your wrist, his grip tight enough to make you gasp, but not hard enough to bruise—yet. His other hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing insistently against your bottom lip. "Cute?" he repeated, voice dripping with something darker than amusement. "You’re gonna regret that word."

You tried to jerk back, but he held firm, pulling you flush against him. The damp fabric of his jeans brushed your thigh, cool and sticky, but the heat radiating off his body was enough to make your skin prickle. "Let go," you demanded, though the way your voice cracked betrayed you.

He didn’t. Instead, he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. "You don’t get to give orders," he murmured. "Not after that little stunt." His teeth grazed your earlobe, sharp enough to make you shiver, and then he was dragging you through the crowd, ignoring your half-hearted protests.

The bass throbbed around you, the air thick with sweat and perfume, but all you could focus on was the iron grip steering you toward the club’s back hallway.

The moment the fire door swung shut behind you, muffling the music to a dull pulse, Sunghoon pinned you against the wall. One hand splayed across your chest, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt, while the other gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You’ve been pushing me all night," he said, voice rough. "Testing how far you can go. Well, congratulations—you found the line."

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your throat. "And what happens now?" you asked, tilting your chin up defiantly.

Sunghoon’s lips curled into a slow, predatory smile, his fingers tightening just enough to make you gasp. “Now,” he murmured, his voice a velvet rasp, “you learn what happens to brats who can’t behave.” His thumb traced the line of your jaw, dragging down to press against the flutter of your pulse. “You’re going to apologize. Properly.”

You scoffed, but the sound caught in your throat when his knee slid between yours, pressing firm against the growing heat there. “Or what?” you challenged, though your voice wavered.

“Or,” he said, leaning in until his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “I’ll make you.” His teeth grazed your earlobe—sharp, deliberate—before he pulled back to study your reaction. The dim hallway light caught the glint of something darker in his eyes, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

You opened your mouth to retort, but Sunghoon didn’t give you the chance. His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he yanked your head back. The sting was electric, and you arched instinctively, your breath hitching. “Sunghoon—”

“Ah-ah,” he tutted, his free hand slipping under your shirt to splay across your ribs. His palm was searing against your skin, and you shuddered at the contrast—his touch somehow gentle and merciless all at once. “You don’t get to say my name like that. Not until you’ve earned it.”

His fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head back further until the cold wall bit into your scalp. You could feel the heat of his breath against your parted lips, the way his chest rose and fell just inches from yours—controlled, deliberate, like he was savoring the way your pulse rabbited under his touch. "You're shaking," he murmured, thumb brushing the frantic flutter at your throat. "Scared?"

You swallowed hard, forcing your voice steady. "Of you? Please." The words came out breathier than you'd intended, and Sunghoon's lips curled into a smirk.

"Mmm. That's what I thought." His hand slid lower, fingertips skimming down your sternum until they caught on the waistband of your pants. He paused there, hooking a finger just beneath the fabric, and your breath hitched. "You're *terrible* at lying," he added, voice dropping to a whisper. "Your body gives you away every time."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words dissolved into a gasp as his knee pressed harder between your thighs, the rough denim dragging against the sensitive skin of your inner leg.

Sunghoon's eyes darkened at the sound, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your toes curl. "There it is," he breathed. "That's the noise I wanted." His free hand dipped lower, fingers tracing the outline of your cock through your pants, and you jerked against him, heat pooling low in your stomach.

"Fuck—" you choked out, hips bucking involuntarily.

Sunghoon’s laugh was low, dark, as his fingers tightened around the fabric of your pants, tugging just enough to make your breath stutter. “Not so mouthy now, are you?” he murmured, his thumb pressing in slow, deliberate circles over the growing heat beneath your zipper. You bit your lip hard enough to taste copper, but the whimper that escaped you was impossible to swallow down. His grin widened. “Good. Keep making those sounds for me.”

His other hand twisted tighter in your hair, tilting your head back until the exposed line of your throat was taut under the dim hallway light. His lips hovered just above your skin, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath but not close enough to touch—maddening. “You’re *so* fucking pretty like this,” he breathed, dragging his teeth along your pulse point without biting down. “All wound up and desperate because of me. Tell me—” His knee shifted higher, pressing insistently against your cock, and you gasped, hips jerking forward. “Tell me who you belong to.”

The words lodged in your throat, pride warring with the electric heat coiling in your gut. Sunghoon’s fingers tightened warningly in your hair, and you choked out a broken, “You—hng,*you*—” before his mouth crashed onto yours, swallowing the rest of your words. The kiss was brutal, all teeth and claiming pressure, and you melted into it, your hands finally finding purchase on his waist, dragging him closer.

He broke the kiss just as abruptly as he’d started it, panting slightly, his pupils blown wide. “Say it again,” he demanded, voice rough. His palm cupped you through your pants, squeezing just shy of too hard. “Say it like you mean it.”

“*Yours*,” you gasped, nails digging into his hips as he ground his hand against you. The friction was dizzying, the rough fabric of his jeans against your bare thighs a delicious contrast to the heat of his touch. “Always yours, you fucking—*ah*—*asshole*—”

Sunghoon’s laugh was a low, dangerous thing, vibrating against your lips before he pulled back just enough to watch you unravel. “Always mine,” he echoed, fingers tightening around the base of your throat—not choking, just *holding*, the way you’d seen him cradle a mic before a performance. Possessive. Precise.

You scoffed, but it dissolved into a whine when his free hand yanked your pants down just enough to wrap around your cock, his grip firm and unrelenting. “Fuck—*Sunghoon*—”

“Wrong,” he growled, twisting his wrist just enough to make your knees buckle. The wall dug into your spine as you arched into him, but he didn’t relent, his pace agonizingly slow. “Try again. *Properly*.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, torn between shoving him away and dragging him closer. “I’m—*fuck*—I’m sorry,” you gasped, hips stuttering as his thumb swiped over the head of your cock, smearing precum down the shaft. “I’m sorry, I’m—*shit*—”

“For?” he prompted, his voice dripping with faux innocence as he slowed his strokes to a torturous crawl.

"For being a brat," you choked out, back arching as his thumb circled the sensitive underside of your cock. The words tumbled out in a rush, breathless and broken. "For—*fuck*—for spilling your drink, for—*ah*—pushing you—"

Sunghoon hummed, considering, his grip tightening just enough to make your vision blur. "Close enough," he conceded, though his hand didn't speed up—if anything, his strokes grew slower, more deliberate, his fingers slick with the mess he was wringing from you. "But you're not done yet." His free hand slid up your chest, fingertips brushing your throat before settling possessively over your pulse. "Tell me what you need."

You shuddered, hips jerking fruitlessly against his rhythm. "*You*," you gasped, nails scraping down his back as he leaned in, his breath hot against your parted lips. "Just you, please—"

"*Please*," he echoed, mocking, but his voice cracked on the word, betraying the same desperate edge that coiled in your gut. His forehead pressed against yours, his breaths ragged against your skin. "Say it like you mean it."

"I *mean* it," you hissed, dragging him closer until the damp fabric of his ruined jeans rubbed against your bare thighs. "Fucking *ruin* me already—"

Sunghoon’s breath hitched, his composure cracking for the first time all night. The raw need in your voice—the way your body arched into his touch—sent a jolt of heat straight to his gut. His fingers tightened around your cock, his grip just shy of punishing, and he watched with dark satisfaction as your eyelids fluttered, your lips parting around a silent gasp.

You whimpered, but the sound morphed into a choked moan as he dropped to his knees in one fluid motion, his free hand dragging your pants down your thighs.

The cold air of the hallway bit at your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the searing heat of his mouth as he licked a slow, torturous stripe up your cock.

“p-please, n-ngh”

“Begging already?” he murmured, his breath hot against your wet skin. His tongue flicked over the head of your cock, teasing, and you nearly sobbed.

He pulled off with a filthy pop, his chin slick with spit, and your chest heaved. “You taste fucking *perfect*,” he growled, dragging his teeth along your inner thigh. You jerked, but his grip on your hips held you in place, his fingers digging into your skin.

You whined, your head thumping back against the wall. “You’re such a *dick*—”

Sunghoon’s laugh was dark, vibrating against your thigh as he pressed a biting kiss to the sensitive skin there. “And yet,” he murmured, his breath hot, “you’re the one shaking apart for me.”

His fingers twisted around your cock, his grip tightening just enough to make your vision blur. “You’re *mine*,” he repeated, the words a low growl against your skin. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

His mouth returned to you without warning, swallowing you down in one smooth motion, and your hips jerked forward instinctively. Sunghoon’s hands clamped down on your thighs, nails digging in as he hollowed his cheeks, the suction relentless.

He pulled off with a wet sound, his lips swollen and glistening. “You *can*,” he corrected, his thumb swiping over the head of your cock, spreading the mess you’d made. “And you *will*.”

You shuddered, your hips twitching helplessly as his hand resumed its slow, torturous strokes. Every nerve in your body was alight, your skin too tight, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

“fucking slut” The words sent a jolt through you, your stomach tightening dangerously. “Sunghoon—” you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair. “*Please*—”

"*Now*," Sunghoon growled, his voice thick with command—and something darker, something desperate.

The word snapped through you like a live wire, and your hips jerked forward violently as the orgasm ripped through you, white-hot and blinding.

He pulled off with a satisfied hum, swiping his thumb over his swollen bottom lip as he surveyed his handiwork. You slumped against the wall, boneless and breathless, your chest heaving.

Sunghoon rose to his feet in one fluid motion, his own breath uneven, his pupils blown wide with residual hunger.

Sunghoon noticed immediately, his smirk returning full force as he cupped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"Can't stand?" he teased, thumb brushing the tear tracks you hadn't realized had slipped free. "Pathetic." But there was no bite to the word—just a warmth that curled low in your gut, despite the aftershocks still wracking your body.

You tried to push off the wall, but your knees buckled instantly, and Sunghoon caught you with a laugh, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. "I *told* you," you muttered, though the effect was ruined by the way your voice cracked, still hoarse from crying out.

Sunghoon's grin softened at the edges, something unbearably fond flickering in his eyes before he schooled his expression back into its usual sharpness.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, adjusting his grip to scoop you up effortlessly, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back.

You yelped, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoisted you against his chest. "Guess I'll just have to carry you home like the spoiled brat you are."

I got VERY bored and I yearn for the enha x male reader fics (even though im a woman💔) and im also ovulating😓

[evaluvz]

thank yew guys for 100 likes🥹✌️✌️✌️

[evaluvz]

Ur masterlist isn’t working 😭

it should be fixed now 😓✌️✌️✌️

[evaluvz]

Are you open to writing for male reader more?

Yes!!! I was actually thinking about doing another male reader fic but with either jake or ni-ki =^.^=

[dadasimjaeyun]

yeah jokes over i need jake in this puh right now!!!🤣🥲

[evaluvz]

“tell me who you belong to”

contains: 18+!! handjob, smut, degradation(?), public sex, m!sunghoon x m!reader.

masterlist now playing

"You spilled my fucking drink," Sunghoon said, voice dangerously quiet as he stared at the dark stain spreading across his designer jeans. The club's neon lights flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows across his clenched jaw.

you smirked, swirling the remains of your cocktail lazily in its glass. "Oops," you said, not sounding sorry at all. "Guess you'll have to take them off."

Sunghoon's fingers twitched against his thigh, the damp denim clinging uncomfortably to his skin. The smirk on your face—that infuriating, cocky little smirk—was going to be the death of him.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, stepping closer until the toes of his shoes bumped yours. "You think this is funny?" he murmured, voice low enough that the bass from the speakers nearly swallowed it whole.

You tipped your head back to meet his gaze, the challenge bright in your eyes. "Kinda," you admitted, fingers toying with the rim of your glass. "You look cute when you're mad."

The words were barely out of your mouth before Sunghoon's hand shot out, snatching the drink from your grip and slamming it onto the nearest table. Liquid sloshed over the edge, but neither of you glanced at it.

Sunghoon’s fingers curled around your wrist, his grip tight enough to make you gasp, but not hard enough to bruise—yet. His other hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing insistently against your bottom lip. "Cute?" he repeated, voice dripping with something darker than amusement. "You’re gonna regret that word."

You tried to jerk back, but he held firm, pulling you flush against him. The damp fabric of his jeans brushed your thigh, cool and sticky, but the heat radiating off his body was enough to make your skin prickle. "Let go," you demanded, though the way your voice cracked betrayed you.

He didn’t. Instead, he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. "You don’t get to give orders," he murmured. "Not after that little stunt." His teeth grazed your earlobe, sharp enough to make you shiver, and then he was dragging you through the crowd, ignoring your half-hearted protests.

The bass throbbed around you, the air thick with sweat and perfume, but all you could focus on was the iron grip steering you toward the club’s back hallway.

The moment the fire door swung shut behind you, muffling the music to a dull pulse, Sunghoon pinned you against the wall. One hand splayed across your chest, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt, while the other gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You’ve been pushing me all night," he said, voice rough. "Testing how far you can go. Well, congratulations—you found the line."

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your throat. "And what happens now?" you asked, tilting your chin up defiantly.

Sunghoon’s lips curled into a slow, predatory smile, his fingers tightening just enough to make you gasp. “Now,” he murmured, his voice a velvet rasp, “you learn what happens to brats who can’t behave.” His thumb traced the line of your jaw, dragging down to press against the flutter of your pulse. “You’re going to apologize. Properly.”

You scoffed, but the sound caught in your throat when his knee slid between yours, pressing firm against the growing heat there. “Or what?” you challenged, though your voice wavered.

“Or,” he said, leaning in until his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “I’ll make you.” His teeth grazed your earlobe—sharp, deliberate—before he pulled back to study your reaction. The dim hallway light caught the glint of something darker in his eyes, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

You opened your mouth to retort, but Sunghoon didn’t give you the chance. His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he yanked your head back. The sting was electric, and you arched instinctively, your breath hitching. “Sunghoon—”

“Ah-ah,” he tutted, his free hand slipping under your shirt to splay across your ribs. His palm was searing against your skin, and you shuddered at the contrast—his touch somehow gentle and merciless all at once. “You don’t get to say my name like that. Not until you’ve earned it.”

His fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head back further until the cold wall bit into your scalp. You could feel the heat of his breath against your parted lips, the way his chest rose and fell just inches from yours—controlled, deliberate, like he was savoring the way your pulse rabbited under his touch. "You're shaking," he murmured, thumb brushing the frantic flutter at your throat. "Scared?"

You swallowed hard, forcing your voice steady. "Of you? Please." The words came out breathier than you'd intended, and Sunghoon's lips curled into a smirk.

"Mmm. That's what I thought." His hand slid lower, fingertips skimming down your sternum until they caught on the waistband of your pants. He paused there, hooking a finger just beneath the fabric, and your breath hitched. "You're *terrible* at lying," he added, voice dropping to a whisper. "Your body gives you away every time."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words dissolved into a gasp as his knee pressed harder between your thighs, the rough denim dragging against the sensitive skin of your inner leg.

Sunghoon's eyes darkened at the sound, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your toes curl. "There it is," he breathed. "That's the noise I wanted." His free hand dipped lower, fingers tracing the outline of your cock through your pants, and you jerked against him, heat pooling low in your stomach.

"Fuck—" you choked out, hips bucking involuntarily.

Sunghoon’s laugh was low, dark, as his fingers tightened around the fabric of your pants, tugging just enough to make your breath stutter. “Not so mouthy now, are you?” he murmured, his thumb pressing in slow, deliberate circles over the growing heat beneath your zipper. You bit your lip hard enough to taste copper, but the whimper that escaped you was impossible to swallow down. His grin widened. “Good. Keep making those sounds for me.”

His other hand twisted tighter in your hair, tilting your head back until the exposed line of your throat was taut under the dim hallway light. His lips hovered just above your skin, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath but not close enough to touch—maddening. “You’re *so* fucking pretty like this,” he breathed, dragging his teeth along your pulse point without biting down. “All wound up and desperate because of me. Tell me—” His knee shifted higher, pressing insistently against your cock, and you gasped, hips jerking forward. “Tell me who you belong to.”

The words lodged in your throat, pride warring with the electric heat coiling in your gut. Sunghoon’s fingers tightened warningly in your hair, and you choked out a broken, “You—hng,*you*—” before his mouth crashed onto yours, swallowing the rest of your words. The kiss was brutal, all teeth and claiming pressure, and you melted into it, your hands finally finding purchase on his waist, dragging him closer.

He broke the kiss just as abruptly as he’d started it, panting slightly, his pupils blown wide. “Say it again,” he demanded, voice rough. His palm cupped you through your pants, squeezing just shy of too hard. “Say it like you mean it.”

“*Yours*,” you gasped, nails digging into his hips as he ground his hand against you. The friction was dizzying, the rough fabric of his jeans against your bare thighs a delicious contrast to the heat of his touch. “Always yours, you fucking—*ah*—*asshole*—”

Sunghoon’s laugh was a low, dangerous thing, vibrating against your lips before he pulled back just enough to watch you unravel. “Always mine,” he echoed, fingers tightening around the base of your throat—not choking, just *holding*, the way you’d seen him cradle a mic before a performance. Possessive. Precise.

You scoffed, but it dissolved into a whine when his free hand yanked your pants down just enough to wrap around your cock, his grip firm and unrelenting. “Fuck—*Sunghoon*—”

“Wrong,” he growled, twisting his wrist just enough to make your knees buckle. The wall dug into your spine as you arched into him, but he didn’t relent, his pace agonizingly slow. “Try again. *Properly*.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, torn between shoving him away and dragging him closer. “I’m—*fuck*—I’m sorry,” you gasped, hips stuttering as his thumb swiped over the head of your cock, smearing precum down the shaft. “I’m sorry, I’m—*shit*—”

“For?” he prompted, his voice dripping with faux innocence as he slowed his strokes to a torturous crawl.

"For being a brat," you choked out, back arching as his thumb circled the sensitive underside of your cock. The words tumbled out in a rush, breathless and broken. "For—*fuck*—for spilling your drink, for—*ah*—pushing you—"

Sunghoon hummed, considering, his grip tightening just enough to make your vision blur. "Close enough," he conceded, though his hand didn't speed up—if anything, his strokes grew slower, more deliberate, his fingers slick with the mess he was wringing from you. "But you're not done yet." His free hand slid up your chest, fingertips brushing your throat before settling possessively over your pulse. "Tell me what you need."

You shuddered, hips jerking fruitlessly against his rhythm. "*You*," you gasped, nails scraping down his back as he leaned in, his breath hot against your parted lips. "Just you, please—"

"*Please*," he echoed, mocking, but his voice cracked on the word, betraying the same desperate edge that coiled in your gut. His forehead pressed against yours, his breaths ragged against your skin. "Say it like you mean it."

"I *mean* it," you hissed, dragging him closer until the damp fabric of his ruined jeans rubbed against your bare thighs. "Fucking *ruin* me already—"

Sunghoon’s breath hitched, his composure cracking for the first time all night. The raw need in your voice—the way your body arched into his touch—sent a jolt of heat straight to his gut. His fingers tightened around your cock, his grip just shy of punishing, and he watched with dark satisfaction as your eyelids fluttered, your lips parting around a silent gasp.

You whimpered, but the sound morphed into a choked moan as he dropped to his knees in one fluid motion, his free hand dragging your pants down your thighs.

The cold air of the hallway bit at your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the searing heat of his mouth as he licked a slow, torturous stripe up your cock.

“p-please, n-ngh”

“Begging already?” he murmured, his breath hot against your wet skin. His tongue flicked over the head of your cock, teasing, and you nearly sobbed.

He pulled off with a filthy pop, his chin slick with spit, and your chest heaved. “You taste fucking *perfect*,” he growled, dragging his teeth along your inner thigh. You jerked, but his grip on your hips held you in place, his fingers digging into your skin.

You whined, your head thumping back against the wall. “You’re such a *dick*—”

Sunghoon’s laugh was dark, vibrating against your thigh as he pressed a biting kiss to the sensitive skin there. “And yet,” he murmured, his breath hot, “you’re the one shaking apart for me.”

His fingers twisted around your cock, his grip tightening just enough to make your vision blur. “You’re *mine*,” he repeated, the words a low growl against your skin. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

His mouth returned to you without warning, swallowing you down in one smooth motion, and your hips jerked forward instinctively. Sunghoon’s hands clamped down on your thighs, nails digging in as he hollowed his cheeks, the suction relentless.

He pulled off with a wet sound, his lips swollen and glistening. “You *can*,” he corrected, his thumb swiping over the head of your cock, spreading the mess you’d made. “And you *will*.”

You shuddered, your hips twitching helplessly as his hand resumed its slow, torturous strokes. Every nerve in your body was alight, your skin too tight, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

“fucking slut” The words sent a jolt through you, your stomach tightening dangerously. “Sunghoon—” you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair. “*Please*—”

"*Now*," Sunghoon growled, his voice thick with command—and something darker, something desperate.

The word snapped through you like a live wire, and your hips jerked forward violently as the orgasm ripped through you, white-hot and blinding.

He pulled off with a satisfied hum, swiping his thumb over his swollen bottom lip as he surveyed his handiwork. You slumped against the wall, boneless and breathless, your chest heaving.

Sunghoon rose to his feet in one fluid motion, his own breath uneven, his pupils blown wide with residual hunger.

Sunghoon noticed immediately, his smirk returning full force as he cupped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"Can't stand?" he teased, thumb brushing the tear tracks you hadn't realized had slipped free. "Pathetic." But there was no bite to the word—just a warmth that curled low in your gut, despite the aftershocks still wracking your body.

You tried to push off the wall, but your knees buckled instantly, and Sunghoon caught you with a laugh, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. "I *told* you," you muttered, though the effect was ruined by the way your voice cracked, still hoarse from crying out.

Sunghoon's grin softened at the edges, something unbearably fond flickering in his eyes before he schooled his expression back into its usual sharpness.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, adjusting his grip to scoop you up effortlessly, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back.

You yelped, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoisted you against his chest. "Guess I'll just have to carry you home like the spoiled brat you are."

I got VERY bored and I yearn for the enha x male reader fics (even though im a woman💔) and im also ovulating😓

[honybite]

I miss my lesbian mom of six.

[evaluvz]

unanswered calls.

summary: you notice something with your boyfriend Jake. He’s been coming home later than usual.

warnings: argument, angst, nonidol!jay x f!reader, (mention of Jake)

masterlist now listening

The apartment felt too quiet for 2:17 a.m.

your sitting curled up on the couch, the glow of your phone dimming with each passing minute. The same message stared back at them—“Running late. Don’t wait up.” It had been sent hours ago.

Again.

The lock finally clicked.

Jake slipped inside, shoulders slumped, hair slightly damp from the night air. He froze when he saw the light still on—and you still awake waiting for him.

“You’re still up?” he asked softly, toeing off his shoes.

you let out a slight hollow laugh. “That’s what you’re going to say?”

Jake frowned, confused but already tired. “What do you mean?”

“It’s always the same thing, Jake.” you stood, arms crossed, voice trembling despite your effort to stay calm.

“You come home late, you barely say anything, and then you act like nothing’s wrong.”

“I told you I’d be late,” Jake replied, a hint of defensiveness creeping in. “We’ve been busy. You know that.”

“Busy doesn’t mean disappearing,” you shot back. “Busy doesn’t mean I feel like I’m the last thing on your mind.”

Jake ran a hand through his hair, frustration building. “That’s not fair. I’m doing this for us—for our future.”

“But what about now?” your voice cracks with a tear running down you’re cheek. “What about me, right now?”

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Jake looked away first. “I can’t be in two places at once.”

you swallow hard. “I’m not asking you to be. I’m asking you to care that I’m here.”

“I do care!” Jake’s voice rose, sharper than he intended. “But you don’t understand the pressure I’m under.”

“And you don’t understand how lonely this feels,” you whispered.

That landed.

For a second, Jake’s expression softened—but then his jaw tightened again. “So what, you want me to just drop everything? Is that it?”

“No,” you respond, shaking your head. “I want you to choose me sometimes.”

The words lingered in the air.

Jake didn’t respond.

And somehow, that silence said everything.

you feel your chest tighten. “I think… I think we’ve already lost each other.”

Jake’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Y/N…”

“I can’t keep waiting for you,” they said, voice barely above a whisper now. “Not when it feels like you’ve already moved on without me.”

“That’s not—”

“Then prove it,” you interrupted, though your voice was breaking. “Because I don’t see it anymore.”

Jake opened his mouth, but no words came out.

That was the answer.

Tears blurred your vision as they nodded slowly. “Okay.”

The single word felt like a final door closing.

Jake stood there, frozen, as you walk past him—grabbing your jacket, keys, anything you could reach without looking back.

“Where are you going?” he asked, panic finally creeping into his voice.

“Somewhere I’m not alone,” you reply quietly.

And then you were gone.

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

Weeks passed, but the emptiness lingered.

Until one afternoon, it didn’t feel quite as heavy.

Jay wasn’t loud about his presence—but it was steady. Warm. Reliable.

“You’ve been staring at that coffee for five minutes,” he pointed out, sitting across from you at the café.

you blink, then laughed softly. “Sorry. I guess I zone out a lot now.”

Jay tilted his head, studying your expression. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay around me.”

“I’m not pretending,” you say after a moment. “I’m just… learning how to be okay.”

Jay nodded, understanding more than he let on. He slid the cup a little closer to them.

“Then start with small things. Like actually drinking your coffee before it gets cold.”

you smile —like REALLY smile this time.

It felt different with Jay.

There were no missed calls, no unanswered messages. No quiet nights filled with waiting.

Instead, there were long conversations, shared silences that didn’t feel empty, and a kind of attention that made Y/N feel seen again.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft golds and pinks, you found yourself walking beside Jay along the river.

“You know,” Jay said casually, hands in his pockets, “you don’t have to rush anything.”

you glance at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… whatever this is,” he gestured lightly between them, “it doesn’t have to be a rebound or something you’re unsure about.”

you stop walking.

Jay turned to face them, his expression calm but sincere.

“I just want you to be sure you’re choosing this because it makes you happy,” he added.

you feel your chest tighten —but not in the painful way it used to.

In a steadier, quieter way.

“I am,” they said softly. “It does make me happy.”

Jay searched their face for a moment, then smiled—a rare, genuine smile that reached his eyes.

“Good,” he said.

And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you weren’t waiting anymore.

you were finally moving forward.

Somewhere else, under a different sky, Jake stood alone on a balcony, staring down at a city that never seemed to sleep.

His phone rested in his hand, a name he hadn’t dared to call still sitting at the top of his screen.

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes.

Too late.

And he knew it.

The night carried on—quiet, bittersweet, and full of things left unsaid.