“you cannot ship these two fictional characters because—” actually I can because they are not real people. they are just toys I play with. you cannot apply real-world morality to fiction or how strangers play with their imaginary toys in their imaginary sandboxes.
you can, however, curate your own internet experience by minding your own business, muting/blocking/scrolling past what upsets you but does not hurt anyone in real life in any way, shape or form.
警告 : smut, minors do not interact, was supposed to have plot but enjoy some nasty pwp, unprotected sex, p in v, aftercare, implications of them getting tgt, soft hoon and *gasp* no degradation. 𝟏𝟐𝟓𝟖 yeah so i should lowk deactivate and quit tumblr because this might just be my #Downfall sorry for disappointing. not proofread and lower caps intended.
ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ( ៸៸ ´ `) 𝑜 ──── REBLOG FOR A KiSS !
park sunghoon didn’t do relationships.
he was the type to just sleep around, one night stands. it was easier, having noncommittal flings.
so, why was he spending so much time with you? why did he follow you around the campus like a love sick puppy when he had never done that with anyone else?
you couldn’t put your finger on it, but he was acting weird. really weird. and it wasn’t just that he had held your hand that one time or how he had kissed you goodbye at the dorms. it was the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room.
“sunghoon, what’re you doing here—”
“you wound me darling, i just climbed a three-story building.” sunghoon leaned against your window frame, moonlight catching the sweat on his temple. “get used to it.”
“oh my gosh, you’re insane!” you scrambled backward as he swung a leg over the sill.
sunghoon landed silently on your dorm room floor, brushing dust from his jeans. “insanely in love with you.”
you stared at him, heart pounding against your ribs. moonlight sharpened his features—the stubborn set of his jaw, the dark intensity in eyes, his pretty moles. “you could’ve texted or just called me, this is so unnecessary and unsafe. you could’ve seriously gotten hurt.”
“necessary,” he corrected softly, stepping closer. the scent of night air and sweat clung to him as he closed the distance. “missed you,” his voice dropped, rough around the edges. before you could protest, he buried his face in the curve of your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. his arms slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. you felt the hard press of his erection against your thigh, unmistakable even through layers of denim and cotton. a shiver raced down your spine.
“sunghoon—” you started, but his lips brushed your ear, cutting you off. “couldn’t sleep,” he murmured, the words vibrating against your neck. his fingers dug into your hips. “kept thinking about how sweet you taste,” you felt his heartbeat thudding against your chest, rapid and insistent. his hips shifted subtly, grinding against you with a low groan. the friction sparked heat low in your belly.
he lifted his head, eyes dark and liquid in the moonlight. “tell me you missed me too.” his voice was gravel, rough with need.before you could even answer, his lips are already on yours as he kissed you. hard, desperate. his tongue slid against yours. his hands slid under your shirt, palms hot against your bare skin. you gasped into his mouth, arching instinctively. he broke the kiss, breathing ragged. thumb circling your nipple through thin fabric.
his hips rolled against yours, the thick ridge of his erection grinding against your core. you could feel every inch through the layers. wetness pooled between your legs. his groan vibrated against your lips. “fuck, you feel that?” he whispered against your mouth. “what you do to me?”
you whimpered. he was everywhere—his scent, sweat and just him, filling your lungs. his hands slid down your back, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pajama shorts. he yanked them down your hips in one rough motion. cool air hit your bare skin. his palm slid over your ass, fingers digging in possessively.
sunghoon’s mouth crashed back onto yours.
messy. hungry.
his tongue pushed deep. you tasted mint and desperation. he walked you backward until your knees hit the bed. you fell onto the mattress. he followed, knees bracketing your thighs. his jeans scraped against your bare skin. he grinded down against your core. the thick ridge of his cock pressed exactly where you needed it.
he tore his mouth away, panting. “need you.” his voice cracked. fingers fumbled with his belt buckle as the metal clinked. he shoved his jeans down just enough to free himself. his cock sprang free, thick and flushed with precum glistening at the tip. he didn’t hesitate as he ripped your panties aside. the fabric tore with a sharp sound as you gasped. his fingers slid through your slick folds, spreading you open. he groaned. “so fucking wet for me.”
he positioned himself at your entrance. eyes locked on yours. moonlight caught the sweat on his brow. “look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough. he pushed in slow and deliberate. stretching you inch by inch. you cried out as he filled you completely. he paused, breathing ragged. “fuck. so tight.” he pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in hard. the bed frame slammed against the wall.
he set a punishing rhythm immediately. hips snapping forward. skin slapping skin echoing in the small room. his fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise. each thrust drove the breath from your lungs. he leaned down, teeth scraping your neck. “mine,” he growled against your skin. his thrusts grew erratic and desperate. you clawed at his back. nails digging into muscle. he groaned low in his throat. the sound vibrated through your chest.
“h-hoon, i’m close, nghh—”
“me too, fuck—” sunghoon’s voice shattered against your ear, his hips stuttering as he slammed into you one final time. his body locked, a low groan tearing from his throat as he spilled deep inside you, pulsing hot and thick. the sensation tipped you over the edge. your back arched off the mattress, a cry ripping from your throat as your climax crashed through you, white-hot and consuming. you clenched around him, milking every last shudder from his body as he collapsed against you, breath ragged and damp against your neck.
for some moments, the only sounds were the frantic hammering of your hearts and your breathing. moonlight streamed through the open window, painting silver streaks across sunghoon’s sweat-slicked back. his weight was heavy, anchoring you to the rumpled sheets, the scent of sex and exertion thick in the air. slowly, his breathing began to even out, his fingers tracing idle, possessive circles on your hipbone where he’d gripped you hard enough to bruise.
he stirred eventually, lifting his head just enough to look at you. his dark eyes dazed in the low light. a stray lock of hair clung to his damp forehead. he didn’t speak, just watched you, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip where he’d bitten it earlier.
you traced the line of his jaw, the question had been clawing at your throat. you took a shaky breath, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “sunghoon... what is this?” your voice was barely a whisper, raw from crying out his name. “are we... real? or am i just another one of your flings?"
his gaze sharpened instantly, the dazed softness vanishing. he pushed himself up on one elbow, looming over you. “you think this—” his hand slid possessively over your hip, thumb pressing into the bruise he’d left, “—is how i treat flings?" his voice was low, dangerous. “you think i climb through the windows in the middle of the night for anyone else? that i lose my fucking mind just by the scent of your fucking shampoo?”
he leaned down, his nose brushing yours as his breath hitched. “i don’t do relationships,” his voice dropped, rough and raw, stripping away all pretense. “but i can’t breathe right when you’re not near me. i see your face when i close my eyes. i crave your taste like its oxygen.” his thumb traced your swollen lower lip again “you’re not just some random fling. you’re the fucking exception that terrifies me.”
please do not donate any money to send trucks to hybe, to put up signs/billboards (i'm like 90% sure everyone is over raising money right now but who knows), and please do not go out in public to protest.
protest ICE instead, donate to families in palestine/sudan/congo/etc who actually need the money. i want heeseung back as the next person but it's actually insane to watch people push aside actual real world issues for kpop.
make posts about heeseung, spread around the petition, and financially boycott the company all you want— those are things everyone can do, but not everyone is able to donate or go out to protests. if you're able to do those things please put it towards something that's effecting everyone and not just the kpop sphere lol
warnings. smut. noncon, knife play, dacryphilia, choking, blood, petnames usage, oral (f!), biting + if i missed smth lmk word count. 2099 vampire bites: please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable. i know noncon is not everyone's cup of tea so if you don't like it, don't read it and scroll past. i won't tolerate any hate comments nor asks.
“you’re not coming,” you said, eyeing the halloween decorations with a hint of distaste. jake had invited you to the mirror maze, of all places, and you had reluctantly agreed. halloween was never your thing. but here you were, dressed in your last-minute costume, a pair of cat ears perched awkwardly on your head, feeling like you’d walked into a cheesy horror movie.
“i’m sorry,” jake croaked over the phone. “i’ve got the flu. i can barely get out of bed.”
you stared at the phone, disbelief etched on your face. “you’re kidding, right?”
“i wish i was. listen, you don’t have to go. i know you hate halloween.”
“no, i’ll go. i’ll be fine.”
‘i’ll be fine’ my ass.
you’d been wandering the mirror maze for what felt like hours but in reality it’d only been a few minutes, the cold glass walls reflecting your panic at you in a hundred distorted versions. the twists and turns of the corridors played with your mind, leaving you disoriented and on edge. each reflection taunted you with a different outcome: a dead end, a turn you’d already taken, or a fleeting glimpse of an exit that never seemed to get closer. your heart hammered against your ribs, and the echoes of your footsteps were the only company you had.
suddenly, a masked figure emerged from the chaos of reflections. you froze, your breath catching in your throat as the world around you narrowed to just the two of you. he was tall, with a knife glinting in his hand and a sinister grin beneath the jagged teeth of his mask. your legs trembled, but you forced them to hold you upright as he approached, your mind racing for a way out of this nightmare.
stop overthinking, he’s probably just another person lost in the maze. that’s all... but then why do you feel so uneasy?
his stride was deliberate, the clack of his boots against the tiles like a metronome counting down to your doom. you swallowed hard, trying to convince yourself that this was just a part of the halloween attraction, but the knife was too real, the glint in his eye too malicious for comfort.
“hey, are you lost too?”
it was a feeble attempt at conversation, your voice wavering and high-pitched, but it was the only thing that came to mind as the masked figure approached, his knife still poised and menacing. he stopped, tilting his head slightly to the side as if considering your words. the silence was thick and heavy, and the only sound was the pounding of your heart in your ears.
“actually, i’m exactly where i want to be,” he said, the grin beneath his mask growing wider, “and it looks like you're exactly where i want you to be.”
his voice was low and gravelly, sending shivers down your spine. you tried to back away, but your legs felt like jelly, trapped by the walls of the mirrored corridor. “please, don’t do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thunderous beat of your heart.
he stepped closer, the tip of the knife pressing gently against your neck. “now, now, no need to be dramatic. i’ll give you a little game, okay? run, hide, and if you can find your way out of here in five minutes, you’re free to go.” the cold steel dug in slightly, and you winced. “but if i catch you…” his words trailed off, leaving the grisly threat hanging in the air.
you nodded frantically, your eyes wide with fear. “okay, okay,” you managed to murmur. the masked figure released you with a shove, and you stumbled backwards before catching yourself. “starting... now,” he said, and you didn’t wait for him to finish. you bolted down the corridor, your heart racing as you searched for an escape. the mirrors stretched on forever, your panic-stricken face multiplied into an infinite number of terrified reflections.
the sound of his laughter echoed through the maze, sending chills down your spine. your breath came in ragged gasps as you turned corner after corner, hoping to find an exit. the walls seemed to shift and close in on you, the reflections playing tricks with your vision. the floor was slick with the sweat from your palms, making it difficult to get a good grip as you pushed yourself faster, ignoring the burning in your lungs.
the mirrors grew more and more distorted, twisting your reflection into a monstrous caricature of fear. you stumbled into a dead end, your back slamming against the cold, hard surface. a whimper escaped your lips as you frantically searched for a way out, your eyes darting from one warped reflection to another. the walls of the maze felt like they were closing in, suffocating you.
your ears picked up the sound of heavy footsteps, growing louder and closer with each passing second. you knew the masked figure had found you. the game was over. your heart pounded in your chest, so loud that you thought it might shatter the mirrors around you. you had no escape. no one to save you from this hell.
his hand clamped down on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. his grin was wider now, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “time’s up, kitty,” he said, his voice thick with anticipation. the knife pressed against your throat once again, and you felt the warmth of your fear trickle down your neck.
you trembled, your eyes searching the mirrored walls for any sign of hope, any reflection that didn’t show his twisted smile. “please,” you choked out, your voice barely a whisper.
his grip tightened, the knife digging in slightly. “shh, no one’s going to save you now,” he said, his voice a sinister purr. the echoes of his laughter danced around the maze, taunting you, making you feel like you were drowning in a sea of terror.
he leaned in, his eyes locked onto yours in the mirror. you felt his hot breath on your cheek, a stark contrast to the cold metal of the blade. with a quick, surprising movement, he lifted the bottom of his mask and licked the tears that had been streaming down your face. his tongue was rough, the taste of his saliva making your skin crawl. “you’re so delicious when you're scared,” he murmured, the sound sending a jolt of fear through your body.
you flinched at the contact, trying to pull away, but his grip was iron-clad. your eyes widened in horror as you watched the distorted reflection of his tongue dart out again, this time tracing the line of your jaw. you could feel the sticky wetness of his saliva on your skin, mixing with your fear. “please, no,” you whimpered, the words barely escaping your trembling lips.
his grin grew wider, and you could see his eyes sparkle with delight in the mirror. “oh, but i like it when you beg,” he said, his voice a low, dark whisper that sent chills down your spine. his free hand reached out, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back to expose your throat further. “it makes it so much more... interesting.”
his tongue darted out again, and you felt it trace the line of your neck, following the path of the knife. it was wet and rough, and you couldn't help but gag at the sensation. you struggled against him, trying to free yourself from his grip, but your movements only seemed to excite him more. his hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your air supply, and you felt the world start to spin around you.
you could see stars in the mirrored walls, your vision fading as his mouth moved closer to yours. your eyes were wide with panic, searching for escape, but the walls just reflected your desperation at you. your breaths grew shallower, and your chest tightened as he leaned in, his breath hot and rancid against your face. you tried to scream, but only a strangled sound escaped your throat.
then, with a sudden jerk, he pulled the knife away from your neck and dragged it downward, slicing through the fabric of your costume. the cold blade grazed your skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. you felt the fabric fall away, exposing your bare chest to the chilly air. your breasts heaved as you struggled for air.
his eyes followed the path of the blade, lingering on your exposed flesh with a hunger that made you feel violated. “now that’s what i’m talking about,” he murmured “much better.”
you tried to fight, but the lack of oxygen had made your body weak. your fists connected with his chest, but it was like hitting a brick wall. he didn’t even flinch, only chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your skin. “you can try,” he said, “but it won’t do you any good.”
his grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back even further, and the knife trailed down to your stomach. your legs buckled, and you would have fallen if not for the wall behind you.
his other hand roamed over your body, his cold, calloused fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. his touch was invasive, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek, landing with a soft plop on the floor.
you watched in the mirror as his hand moved down to the hem of your skirt, slowly pulling it up. the fabric slid over your thighs, exposing them to the chilly air. you could feel his gaze on you, drinking in your fear like it was a sweet elixir. the knife was still at your stomach, the tip digging slightly into your skin.
a small trickle of blood began to escape from the shallow cut he’d made, painting a crimson line down your body. it was enough to sting, but not enough to cause any real harm—yet. your eyes widened with horror as the masked man took in the sight of your blood with a look of twisted delight.
then, without warning, he reached up and ripped off his mask, revealing the face of lee heeseung, someone you recognized from the brief moments you’d spent with jake’s friends. shock registered on your face, your eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to make sense of what was happening. he’d always been a bit of an oddball, but you’d never expected this.
“heeseung?!” you gasped, the name barely a whisper on your lips. the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. the mask fell to the floor, revealing the face of the person you had hoped to never cross paths with again. his dark hair fell over his eyes, the same eyes that had once held a friendly spark but now gleamed with malice.
his grin grew wider at your recognition, a twisted sense of pleasure lighting up his features. “yes, it’s me,” he said, his voice still low and taunting. “i knew you’d remember.” his grip on your hair loosened slightly, but his hand remained firmly on the knife pressed against your stomach.
the revelation of his identity sent a new wave of terror crashing over you. you had always felt uncomfortable around him, but had dismissed it as mere awkwardness. now, you realized that there was something much more sinister lurking beneath his quiet demeanor.
heeseung’s hand moved away from the knife, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. with a swift motion, he pushed aside your panties, exposing your most vulnerable area to the cold air. your legs trembled as his fingers trailed over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
his mouth moved to your neck, kissing and nipping as he moved downward, his breath hot and erratic. your stomach twisted in a mix of fear and revulsion. you felt his tongue slide over your skin, tracing the path the knife had taken moments before. your eyes were squeezed shut, trying to block out the sight of your reflection, but the mirrors offered no escape.
as heeseung’s mouth reached your collarbone, you felt a strange, unwanted sensation—a twitch of arousal. the horror of the situation warred with a traitorous part of you that responded to the dominance and danger of his touch. you felt sick for actually enjoying the way his teeth scraped against your flesh, for the way your body betrayed you in that moment of sheer terror.
his hand moved from the knife to cup your breast, squeezing it roughly. your nipples tightened in response, and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips. the sound seemed to encourage him, his teeth grazing your skin harder, his hand squeezing tighter. you felt a warmth spreading between your legs, and you hated yourself for it. this wasn’t supposed to be sexy—it was supposed to be terrifying. but your body had other ideas, a primal instinct that responded to the thrill of the chase despite the fear.
his mouth moved lower, kissing and biting as he went, leaving a trail of fire across your stomach. the knife was forgotten now, his focus solely on the intimate dance of his mouth and hands. you felt his tongue flick against your clit, and despite the horror, your body jolted with pleasure. his teeth sunk into your inner thigh, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from crying out.
his tongue delved into your folds, tasting and teasing. you were soaking wet, your juices coating his face, and the realization of your arousal only made you feel more ashamed. your legs shook, your knees threatening to give way, but his hands held you in place, his grip unyielding. your thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear and confusion, your body responding in a way it shouldn’t to the monster before you.
his mouth worked with a fervor that belied his earlier calm demeanor, his tongue swirling around your clit before dipping into your pussy, tasting you deeply. you felt his fingers dig into your thighs, his nails scraping against your sensitive skin as he held you open for his feast. the sounds of his mouth on you echoed through the maze, a symphony of licks and sucks that filled the air.
your hands found their way into his hair, not to push him away but to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his face. the fear was still there, a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach, but it was mingling with something else now—desire, pure and raw. his tongue was relentless, flicking and probing, bringing you closer to the edge with every stroke.
you moaned, the sound echoing through the maze, bouncing off the mirrored walls. your hips rolled, trying to get more of him, trying to get away from the painful pleasure that was building inside of you. you didn’t want this, but your body was screaming for more.
his hands moved to your waist, holding you still as his tongue danced around your clit. you felt the pressure building, your breaths coming in pants. oh no, no, absolutely not, you were not supposed to enjoy this... but your body was betraying you, your pussy clenching around his tongue, begging for release.
his eyes flicked up to meet yours in the mirror, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “you like it, don’t you?” he murmured, smirking smugly. you tried to shake your head, to deny the pleasure he was coaxing from you, but it only served to make your hips rock against his face more desperately. “liar,”
his grip on you tightened, his tongue swirling faster, pressing harder. your legs were trembling so badly you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand. your breath was coming in short, sharp gasps, your chest heaving. you didn’t want to cum for him, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose control, but your body was spiraling, inexorably closer to the edge.
his eyes bore into yours in the mirror, watching your every reaction, feeding off your fear and arousal. the smirk on his lips grew as he felt your muscles tighten around his tongue. “that’s it,” he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin, “cum for me, baby. let me hear you scream.”
his words were like a match to gasoline, igniting the fire that had been building inside you. you couldn't stop it, didn't want to stop it. with a strangled cry, you climaxed, your body convulsing with the intensity of the orgasm that ripped through you. his tongue didn’t relent, riding out your pleasure, savoring every tremor that shook you to your core.
you felt the heat of his breath on your neck as he pulled away, his eyes gleaming with triumph. the taste of your fear and arousal lingered on his lips, and the sight of it in the mirror was almost too much to bear. “see, that wasn't so bad, was it?” he whispered, his voice a dark caress.
without warning, his teeth sunk into your neck, the sharp sting of pain followed by the wet warmth of your blood. your eyes watered as you felt the pressure. “see you again, baby, perhaps we can play another game,”
i'm sorry, but if you, as an engene, support the " plan" of doing a black ocean at ENHYPEN's concert in Australia, you're so wrong and evil.
not only Heeseung, but also the MEMBERS are HURT right now. we're not the only ones suffering, they are too. remember that we may have currently lost Heeseung, but they did too. and based on how sad and down, with tears in the eyes they looked at the fancalls shows how affected they are because of this.
by doing a black ocean, you crush their hopes. they don't deserve that. the frustration should be aimed to the company, not at them.
not to mention it's Jake's first time back in his country after debuting. can you imagine how hurt he would be if he saw a black ocean waiting for him ? it's inhumane.
i deeply understand all of you guys, and i get that you desperately want Heeseung back since nothing feels the same after his departure. i'm hurt too, and i want at least an update to know that he's okay. but hurting the members like this isn't the way to get him back.
i agree, you should chant his name as loud as you can, have posters with seven, and show how much you miss him, but don't forget about the members. as much as i agree that Heeseung is the backbone of the group, it's not like they never existed.
we stan ENHYPEN because we like them as a full group. all seven of them—because at the end of the day, there's no sevEN without ENHYPEN. this isn't the moment to discriminate them, we need to be by their side.
i don't care if i lose followers over this notice, it's the least of my worries. but it's not okay to get back at the members for this.
