description: four scenarios in which heeseung, jake, sunghoon, and jungwon force their cock into you when they know they shouldn’t ── warnings listed before each scenario
⿻ vi’s note: hi hi i made revisions to some scenarios i posted on the deceased onlygarden and i hope u thoroughly enjoy i had so much fun with all of these
LEE HEESEUNG
𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 — older heeseung (he works for your dad), subtle dubcon, semi-public sex, marking, spanking
though heeseung could ramble a list of more than a few reasons why he shouldn’t be swayed by your infectious charm – in alarmingly rapid succession, at that – none of them seemed to be effective in hushing the chorus in his mind. first and foremost, you’re the daughter of his boss – a boundary which would serve to bind the ankles of anyone else who may have considered pursuing you, no matter how pretty you may be, no matter how distracting your figure is from mere peripherals, no matter how luring it is that your perfume seems to linger a few steps behind each space you traverse. though much to your luck, or lack thereof depending on who was questioning you, heeseung isn’t just anyone in this case – and that simple fact alone only seemed to encourage him to submit further to his convictions.
as his eyes lifted from the computer screen in front of him, freeing himself from the utterly energy-depleting light in front of him, he engrossed himself in the light of a much more pleasant, radiant source – the light emitting from you. his eyes refused to stray from your figure, draped in such a wicked mini skirt that he could almost convince himself you paraded it in front of him with purpose, on purpose. though you could only enter your father’s office by passing heeseung’s desk, he enjoyed floating in the delusion that you aimed to attract his leering eyes.
after placing the lunch on your father’s desk that you so sweetly went out of your way to prepare, you re-enter the main workspace, intending to return to the parking lot, though not without your father’s minor scolding of ‘be careful what you wear when you come here, sweetheart. some of these guys are creeps.’
be careful, indeed. creeps, indeed – heeseung thinks, and each protective warning applied so patently, so direly to him.
much to his advantage, and in spite of the shameless tracing he allowed his gaze to venture upon whenever your figure entered his view, you never seemed to notice, though — and for the sake of his job, your father never seemed to notice, either.
“when are you gonna start bringing me lunch?” the comment reels your steps to a halt, and you turn to face the source of the teasing voice – to your surprise, though not to your dismay, it’s heeseung. typically, the conversations you struck with him never surpassed the realms of ‘hi, how are you?’ though today, he seemed particularly eager to lure your gaze, and much more pleasantly your response. quite the handsome little perv he is.
with a subtle laugh, you provide him an answer which would translate to an invitation once he received it, unbeknownst to you. “you’ve never asked me to, heeseung.”
the sound of his name tumbling from your lips, along with the sight of your mini skirt pressing against your thighs beyond your knowledge, had him shifting against the leather of his office chair, his slacks grazing the tattered material – evidence of the countless days he’s spent working for your father, only brightened by the daily visits you’d commenced over the recent year. he cleared his throat in an attempt to conceal the creaking and groaning of his chair beneath him – mirroring the groan lodged in his chest – though he’s sure your eyes must’ve latched onto his strange behavior.
“is it too late to start now?”
as the new day followed, you did bring heeseung lunch. in fact, you even packed it in the same precious way as your father’s, tying a ribbon around it after taking such adorable, attentive care to wrap it up. something he’d never abide the heed to do, if he ever got his hands on you.
“well thank you, angel. i wasn’t expecting all this,” his lips curl in a smile, the intentions of his smile much more sly now that you’ve displayed even an ounce of interest toward him.
“it was nothing, really, i just –”
the details of your words fade into a jumble as they reach heeseung’s ears, his focus now isolating the sounds and sights performing along the space behind you.
the door of your father’s office creaked open, and he soon slipped out, his back sliding against the heft of the door as he spoke into his cellphone – he gestured a signal to heeseung, mouthing a few words along the lines of ‘taking a call outside’ that heeseung hardly paid any heed to. he bartered no concern towards the reason your father’s office was empty, only the simple fact that your father’s office was now empty, the door falling closed upon his departure, a sound which preluded the unfolding of events which would utterly harrow your father.
as a renewed haste visited him, he ushered you inside, battling not a single shred of reluctance to indulge in the bliss of you in the grace of your father’s absence. a similar haste seemed to drag you into a whirling kiss, his hands traversing the paths of your body and the visible flesh provided by yet another mini skirt. such a little minx, you always seem to be.
your hushed, half-hearted protests only dissolve onto heeseung’s tongue, further gratifying him in his twisted intentions to just have you, no matter what – though the absence of any true resistance in your words, and the presence of lust within the movements of your tongue provided heeseung with every facet of confirmation he sought.
with limited time to be spared, heeseung forced your body to bend over your father’s desk. rumpling the not-so-generous fabric of your skirt to reveal your thong, he embarks on the task of freeing his straining cock from the confines of his slacks – the slacks which sighed in relief to be freed from such tension against their fraying threads.
“fuck, you know how bad i’ve wanted to fuck you?” his cock cascades along the slimy wetness gathering between your folds, for him. “parading this ass in front of my desk everyday. do you want your dad to fucking fire me?”
his cock seems to jump in excitement before he prods your entrance, plunging into you and letting out a gravelly sigh as your walls constrict so voraciously around every inch of him. it’s almost possessive the way your pussy hugs him, coats him in your creamy essence, as though you want to hold him there forever.
he pounds you, plows his cock into you, gliding along the sea you seem to keep providing around him, so deliciously wet, drenching every inch of him and almost wringing him out as you clamp with each thrust he sends into you. with each pump of his cock, he ensures you can feel the fervor, feel the restraint he’s been forced to cling to for the sake of concealing his staggering attraction towards you from his boss. though in this moment, it was almost as if he could see the illusory ripples of disappointment pulsing from your father – chasing in the direction of him, but also towards you. he’ll just make sure your father remains oblivious to the way his daughter was being obliterated on his desk.
his hand glides along your back, searching the skin that your shirt already disclosed before sliding underneath, pressing against your dampening flesh and pinning your quivering body against the desk with ruthless coercion. his hands seemed to be coated in such unabashed pining, as though every time his palm pressed against you, the words ‘you’re mine, and rightfully so’ branded themselves into your skin. you couldn’t say you were entirely sure what you should prepare yourself for when it came to heeseung, though his current actions certainly overwhelmed your expectations. though it was foolish to just make assumptions, anyway — and now, as heeseung’s hand weighed atop your body akin to the paperweight adorning your fathers desk, you were achingly aware of that.
“you – mmh, fuck,” he withdraws from you momentarily, ceasing his thrusts as he slips a few inches of himself out of you, his cock passing through your fluids producing a glopping sound that he delights in. heeseung rears his hand back, slamming it down onto your ass in one, two swift spanks, prominent smacks bouncing within the confines of the office, transferring every undeniable impulse racking through him onto you — your flesh ripples, just as it did when he was snapping his hips against you, he thinks. “you been wanting this? is this what you wanted? wanted me to risk my job for this pussy, hm?”
as abruptly as the words leave his heaving chest, he sinks into your velvety warmth once more, demanding you to stretch around the heft of his cock as he succumbs to the desperation to piston your feeble body into delirium.
“h-heeseung! i–”
his hand meets the flesh of your ass again, striking against the faint shape of his hand already blossoming upon your tender skin so beautifully, such a testament to his dawning ownership over you – just as fresh, too. his fingers tangle into the hair draping your neck as he digs into the sensitive flesh, silencing any plea, explanation, or apology you intended to offer him as his cock drilled you so erratically. the only sounds chiming within the office were your embarrassingly unsuppressed, stuttered moans, which pulsed arousal so sweetly within heeseung’s cock.
“no baby, don’t talk. just – mmh – shut up while i fuck you full.”
much to your own fortune, your visit birthed from the intention to bring heeseung lunch; he ended up feeding it to you instead, which underlined his gratitude and the way he intended to nurture you in every action from this day forward.
SIM JAKE
𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 — brother’s best friend jake, fingering, noncon, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, nipple play
in truth, jake desired nothing more than your best interest – and your protection, at that. in the same sense, his attraction toward you was achingly undeniable, and only intercepted by his bond with your brother; the two were bound at the seams, their ‘friendship’ easily surpassing that realm and entering the domain of brotherhood instead. he’d unveiled a glimmer of his long-term interest toward you in passing, a hopelessly casual attempt to test the waters in potentially revealing everything which clawed beneath the cracking surface. though, in response to the preview of ‘your sister’s gorgeous,’ he received a dream-shattering ‘c’mon, man, don’t be weird.’ if only a tiny window into the tumultuous world of his desire for you received that response, he certainly needed to bear caution in pushing the topic further. that he did — well, until your brother trusted him to brace the brunt of your drunken antics for the night.
‘get her home safe, man. i’m working late tonight.’
those words bounced the walls of his brain, echoing in hopes of reaching his morals. which, he did have morals, but he also carried lust — for you, the beautiful girl in the slip-adjacent dress clinging so mockingly to the paths of your body he’d only ever traversed with his eyes. your body relaxed lazily, fluidly in the passenger of his car, your dress sagging helplessly as you disclosed no intention of adjusting it. entirely too drunk to care. sure, you’d make it home safe tonight, relatively. though the events set to occur within your home might breach the agreement of safety, just a bit.
“jake, c’mere.”
the sound of your voice, further cracking his resolve, forced a pause to his movements in laying your defenseless body onto your bed. you surely had no control over your actions, not with consideration of the amount you drank. his shoulders tensed under your pleading tug against them, as though you wanted to drag his body to join you in your bed.
“hm? need something?”
‘need your cock,’ is what he dreamed you would say. though your affectionately drunk response of “need you close,” adorned the same meaning in his blurry mind. similar enough, right? to jake, anything would suffice in justifying the way he was about to capitalize on this situation, in it’s grievous convenience.
your dress went first, peeled away with ease as the ever-so-gracious traces of alcohol in your system softened your body into compliance. jake certainly thanked the creators of tequila, or whatever you decided to carelessly guzzle in your blissful state of rapture. your pliant body didn’t offer a single trace of resistance, even as his fingers drew the obstruction of your panties aside, delving within your silky warmth and kneading your most reactive spots with languid pumps.
“gonna let me fuck this pussy, hm? like the way my fingers feel, princess?” the delighted, dizzy whines you provide as response only urge him to drag his fingers along your walls faster, with more force.
“mhm, feels good, baby?” the husky, hushed intimacy of his voice, the wisp of his breath against your lips, the imprisoning stature of his shoulders as he loomed above you — it all caressed every simple desire swimming within your intoxicated brain, the desires for affection, warmth, attachment. you were entirely limp, helplessly so, unable to muster the energy for much more than rolling your eyes back as jake tended to your pussy.
“fuck, feels good…”
as the gratifying words tickled his lips, jake found more confidence to roam, to grope the pillowy portions of your flesh, sinking into the wonders he’d fantasized, sinking into your flesh, and sinking into the reality of betraying his best friend, all the same. well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
once your fingers yank gently against the fabric of his shirt, he’s truly a goner, as if he hadn’t released the reins of his restraint before. his belt meets your flooring with a muted clank, the fumbling with his jeans only lasting until his cock manages to spring from the suffocating barrier. once he drives into you, forcing your walls to accommodate him, any guilt or glimpse of regret seems to cower underneath the magnitude of the ecstasy your body pours onto him.
“mmm… fuck, like how i fuck you baby? want me to keep fucking you, baby?” his eyes sear into yours, searching, yearning for any bit of agreeance that might reciprocate the burn he’s carried at the thought of you for years. though you’re drunk to the point of oblivion, serenity, even — jake still claws to any encouraging response your lips and body might present to him.
“yes! love you, jake,” your slurred response only rouses the speed of the merciless thrusts jake gives to you, and he’s oh-so-sympathetically drunk off both the sight of your intoxication and the nearly debilitating wetness you soak his pistoning cock in — it’s a miracle he’s still finding the strength to thrust into you. god, jake just can’t go slow, pressing repeatedly against the mushiness of your upper walls, chasing and pushing against every clamp your pussy hugs him with, filling your precious tummy over, and over with every prod of his bulky tip.
jake gathers a generous stream of saliva, spitting onto your nipple then twisting the moistened peak — the crease of his brow deepens as you whimper and shiver in retaliation to his torment. his face contorts so cruelly under the pleasure that he nearly wants to shut his eyes, his neck veins pulsing as the groans demand to escape his throat, but he couldn’t dare betray himself in such a way — every twitch, every sigh, every whine you pour out is far too beautiful to go unnoticed by him.
PARK SUNGHOON
𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 — reader as jake’s ex, spitting, unprotected sex, bruising, mentions of hoon being a perv
the words “damn, that’s rough, man,” and the words “you know i’m always here for you, right?” tumble from sunghoon’s lips upon the news of yours and jake’s break up — however, his comfort extends to more than just one recipient.
this revelation was nothing short of exhilarating for sunghoon. whenever jake brought you around, the perverted little ball of filth that he calls a ‘brain’ always deluded into a cluster of different positions he’d take you in, given the chance. from the moment jake introduced the two of you, sunghoon adopted a perpetual struggle in controlling the urges you — and your perfectly sex-built body — ignited within him. even on the days you spent the night at their place, and jake stepped out of the room (after rearranging you himself, sunghoon could only assume), sunghoon’s legs seemed to encourage him autonomously to admire a few glimpses of your flesh revealed by the strewn blankets. ‘fuck, what would jake think?’ those detaining words seemed to be the sole force in preventing him from snatching away the silly blanket and demolishing your cute little sleeping figure. now, the truth in those words has dissolved, along with the illusory panes of glass you’ve been kept behind for the torturous years of your relationship with jake.
though he’s a shameless hornball, he’s a gentleman, too — he prepared you a basket of your favorite snacks, decorated by a bouquet of flowers to truly drive home the ‘concern’ he felt. though his concern didn’t stretch very far, because he didn’t hesitate to proceed in his advances for the real reason he invited you over. he feigns patience, only momentarily. with such false sweetness, attentiveness, he leads you to his sofa, pulling you into his lap to ‘ease your troubles,’ though he only wanted to feel the pressure of your body against his clothed cock. he’s almost tickled by a whisper of guilt as a plethora of “you’re so sweet, hoon,” and “thank you, hoon,” leaves your weary lips, though his wicked intentions still glimmer proudly against any reluctance he could muster.
“shhh, it’s okay. just let me make you feel better.”
those devious words aid sunghoon in shedding your clothing, pressing you against the cushions of his couch before they can even meet the carpet with a muted plop.
“you know i can make your tears go away, hm?”
he shoves his cock inside of your warmth, driving each inch of himself into you — his width leaves such a sizzling stretch to follow as his hips meet yours with coercion. sunghoon doesn’t waste a single second of this precious moment in allowing you to adjust, his cock immediately filling you, protectively sheathed within the creamy sea your pussy created for him. he grasps your jaw in his hand, his fingers forcing dizzying pressure onto your cheeks until your mouth stretches open in compliance. once his saliva drips from his tongue, his mouth latches onto yours, his tongue now tangling and melding over the slimy, bubbly traces of his own spit, his own taste in your mouth, the reminder of his claim over you sending his mind into a drunken spin.
“mhm, so fucking nasty. jake just never knew how to treat you, yea?” the words escape him in such a possessive haze, his breath labored as he recovers from the fervor he exuded as he kissed you. “gonna fuck every thought of him out of you, baby,” his fingers glide along your calves, adjusting your legs over his sturdy shoulders as he shifts his weight to loom over you – he begins sliding, pistoning within your lustrous walls, tight grunts leaving him as a symptom of your equally tight, encompassing heat.
his veiny, taut hands brace themselves against your wrists, bruises certain to form in the effort of making you look so much less like jake’s. sunghoon pounds you, drills you, each thrust accompanied by a promise of ‘you’re mine, mine, mine now.’ he’ll never stop, never, ever stop, he thinks, as his cock punishes your oh-so-delicate insides, his hips snapping so rapidly in their lustful abuse. the excitement, the delight runs rampant within him as he pummels the body he’s always known to belong rightfully to him – the way your pussy envelops him, it’s as though you’re accepting his ownership, telling him ‘i’m yours, all yours, always been yours.’
“jake will never get to fuck you again, will he baby? but he didn’t fuck you this good, did he, baby?” your brain hardly digests the words, drifting too far in the pleasure of the tremors his cock sends throughout your body – the sofa quakes, an indication that you’d certainly slip from the couch if not for the security from the way he caged you in. through a flurry of raptured wails, you manage a “n-no!”
“what’s that? no? loser couldn’t treat this pussy right,” his tone was so cruel, so charged, and you cannot suppress the guilt arising within you at the way his words seem to soothe you.
his thrusts fill you with such precision, cascading torturously along your damp walls, your pussy sending such filthy squelches to resound in the room as his cock sloshes around inside of you. “mmm… fuck, she’s so fucking loud,” his words are laced with pleasured breaths, and his body is flattening you so much, the proximity so tight, that his lower abdomen presses into your clit with each immobilizing thrust. you’ve never felt so battered, so admired, so full as his cock impales you, demanding ecstasy from you – the feeling sears through your pores, shuddering through each tangible crevice of your body as you cum, unprepared for the magnitude of the pleasure as you writhe and quiver beneath him.
“mhm, just like that baby, my nasty girl,” he encourages, still pounding you through the orgasm he bestowed onto you. “who just made you cum, hm?”
as the immense, piling pleasure lingers, still navigating through your body, you attain the momentary strength to mutter, “y-you, hoon!”
“that’s right, baby. not his pussy, not your pussy, all mine,” the words fan over your features in a whispered growl. your spasms, your flutters, the flood of your essence gushing more graciously around him – it all serves to intensify his own ecstasy. he grunts and groans as his eyebrows knit together, the thump of his skin connecting with yours grows stuttered, unfettered as he cums, dramatizing his hips to languid, punctuated pumps and he’s sure to remind you to “take it all,” through the haze of his low moans. though he struggles to keep his focus through the aftermath of the bliss he was granted, he unsheaths himself from your obliterated entrance, slapping the bulky weight of his cock against your tummy to decorate you in the final spurts of his cum, further confirming his claim over you and further appeasing the possessive beast flaring within him. he watches your enrapturing figure with affection as you crumble further into the sofa, donning the bruising marks of his fingers, and leaking a velvety sea of your shared cum onto his cushions.
upon the day that follows, jake sits atop the same cushions sunghoon mangled your pussy on, none the wiser to the cruel actions which took place – until, however, he notices a scanty piece of lace fabric tucked between the cushions, a thong which he recognizes immediately to be yours.
“sunghoon! you fucked my ex-girlfriend?”
YANG JUNGWON
𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 — reader as jay’s girlfriend, infidelity (though jungwon is manipulative), mentions of ddlg dynamics, dadawon (:p), backshots, unprotected sex, noncon
jungwon isn’t entirely sure what to call it – jealousy, envy, unbridled rage. either way, regardless of the choice in terms used, he wants you. beautiful, unattainable you. so close in proximity, yet floating so mockingly beyond the reach of his grasp. sure, he’s happy for jay; if concealing his hunger to shield you behind his metaphorical cloak could be considered happiness, then he was more than happy.
anytime jay graced the rest of them with your presence, jungwon observed the way he treated you, the way he doted on you, the way you responded to his advances so eagerly, so obediently as though jay reprogrammed your mind to function only under his instruction. at this point, the muscle drifting inside your head could hardly be called a brain; jay took that from you long ago, replacing it with a lump of instructions you must follow in order to appease his looming dominance. in jungwon’s eyes, that was just so fucking cute.
he wished, he ached to delve into even one experience of such submission, such surrender, such trust. his mind often wandered, drifted into contemplation of the way you’d behave under his command – if he lifted a spoon to your lips, would you wrap your lips around it without even knowing what sat upon it? if he buckled your seatbelt, would you sit patiently, contentedly without even knowing where he was taking you? if he told you to open your mouth, would you show him your tongue without even knowing what he’d place onto it?
though at some point, the dryness of curiosity must be quelled by the moisture of execution – jungwon’s curiosity, his routine contemplation led him directly to the front door of yours and jay’s shared home, and the use of his spare key signaled his weary thirst, only able to be quenched by you. the key in jungwon’s clutch was entrusted to him by jay, in case of emergency, in case you were ever in need of any help; though if jay was aware of how jungwon intended to ‘help’ you while he wasn’t home, he wouldn’t place a facet of trust within several acres of his friend, ever again.
the sound of the front door unlocking startles your blissful leisure upon the couch – jay wasn’t supposed to be home so early, you think. “daddy? is that you?”
yeah, it’s your daddy, alright, jungwon thinks. you just don’t know it yet. “hey, noona. just came to check on you,” the fib eases from his lips, though it wasn’t entirely untrue – he’d be checking to see how well you took his cock, for certain.
“oh, hey, jungwon. i’m fine, though. i wasn’t really–”
all traces of whatever trivial words you planned to form together only draw to a halt as jungwon lifts your instinctively-compliant body from the couch, hauling you over his shoulder.
“j-jungwon? why are you–”
“jay told me to do this,” another fib, though any mention of instructions from jay seem to seal your lips in obedience. oh, you’re so well-trained.
with no hesitation, or time to spare, he enters the bedroom and releases your body onto the bed, observing with gratification as you bounce defenselessly against the plush of the mattress. your clothes are discarded, peeled away with no battles of reluctance because jay wanted him to do this, apparently – and who are you to question what your daddy wants?
“elbows and knees,” the command chimes within the room, resounding in your body akin to the effects of a spell, and your limbs adjust themselves into the position before your mind can even question his reasoning. as he basks in the sight of your ass perched above the bed, the slippery, fluffy lips of your pussy glistening with an invitation for him, he removes the suffocating restraints of his own clothing.
“mmm… don’t worry, princess,” the bed shifts and stirs as jungwon moves to join you, and his hand cascades, slinks along the path of your spine, the lush prints of his fingers igniting quivers and twitches with every languid progression along your sheen skin. “promise i’ll take care of you, just like jay wanted, hm?”
his hands traverse the trails of your waist before seizing the flesh of your hips in a possessive clasp, reveling in the way your flesh swells and pillows around his fingers. one hand leaves the solace of your hip to curl around his cock, plunging it past your glimmering, pearly lips with ease. as your whimper tickles the blanket your face rests upon, conveying your compliance, your pleasure, your willing submission – under the thought of jay’s command, though submission nonetheless – jungwon begins to drive his cock into you with pressured pumps, sending ripples against the pliant flesh of your ass with each kiss of your joined skin.
he pistons within your constricting walls as though he was chasing something, searching for something that he could only discover hidden within the dewy moisture inside of you. under the weight of the pleasure, he barely manages to open his eyes, barely manages to lift his head as it tilts back, though he does, driven by the fact that he wouldn’t dare to miss a moment of your obedience in the tasks he’d given you.
“who’s fucking you, princess? who owns this pussy?”
your mouth hangs open, so pitifully slack, drool slithering from your mouth and soaking the blankets as you whine and wail in tandem with his merciless thrusts. the blissful haze within your mind offers you momentary clarity to respond with a weary, “daddy! you, daddy!”
the terms echoes from your weary lips as though you’re conditioned to respond only with such, and you are – though jungwon is delighted to drag the title from your lips, and determined all the same to erase, rewrite all remnants of jay, morphing your devotion, your pleas for guidance to pursue him instead. as though jay’s brain could telepathically receive the thoughts swirling inside of jungwon’s, as though he could sense something amiss with his baby, your phone rings, brightening with a habitual call from ‘daddy <3’ – even your phone seemed to flaunt all traces of jay with triumph.
as his cock continues to rearrange you, pummel you with demanding slops into your snug pussy, he reaches for your phone, answering the conceivably pleading call from jay — though pleas of your own would usually tumble from your lips at such an action, your mind only seems to offer a meek encore of ‘jay wanted this.’
the phone soars to jungwon’s ear as he accepts the call, and his free hand roams the shimmery skin of your back to shove pressure against the arch. the heft of his cock now kneads the silk of your walls with amplified force from his snapping hips, the swell of his tip stuffing you, spreading you, working your pussy with such seamless kisses against your sweetest mushy patches.
a muted echo of “princess? you doing alright?” resounds from the phone — he’s such a good, attentive daddy, shamefully so, because all it took to receive the grant of entrance into your pussy was the mention of his name.
as attentive as he is, jay recognizes the pretty chime of your pleasured, whelmed cries without delay, though jungwon’s winded voice slices through the seething rage, shock, confusion which prepared to erupt from jay’s chest.
“hey, jay, it’s me. i’ve got your princess right here. don’t worry, she’s fine,” the gruff of his voice melds with your whiny moans, and with the incessant pat, pat, patting of his dewy skin against yours. with each subtle withdraw, his cock now shined with the glossy fluids secreting from your arousal.
“tell me again, princess. who’s making you feel so good? who fucks this little pussy best?”
the tone of your whines only becomes more frantic, reaching the realms of sound jay previously believed only he could extract from you. “y-you daddy!” the words flee from your throat with such ease, and you’re still convinced that jay would be delighted to know you’re following his instructions, though the words fill his ears, implant his mind with the most unfathomable, treacherous feeling of betrayal he’s ever feared to know.
jungwon’s hips falter, spasming with stuttered pumps as he cums, draining the seed from his balls inside of you as your pussy clings to him, squeezing out every creamy glob he could ever hope to fill you with. “fuck! take daddy's cum, whore.”
jay ended the call with haste, ceasing the gushy sounds of your pussy and the wails of your rapture as you ascend to an orgasm on kindred paths with jungwon, he can only assume. with such posthaste, he rushes home, only to see the same angelic, guiltless expression you always seemed to show him.
description: for six years, jungwon has been your best friend. he hides his aching obsession from you, however, too afraid you'd just cut all ties with him if you ever found out how deep that obsession ran. though eventually, jungwon has had enough — enough of hearing about your dates, enough of the relentless teasing from his friends, and enough of pretending he could ever be content with calling you his best friend for the rest of his life. ──────── ☘︎ contains obsessed best friend jungwon & fem reader, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), marking, blood (implied), bruising, some violence, protectiveness, possessiveness, won is a perv, panty stealing, cockwarming, biting, fingering, nipple sucking, cum eating, almost half of this is smut — length is 15k
⿻ vi’s note: hiiii this is a revised repost of a fic from my former acc and i hope u can still enjoy my baby even more now if u enjoyed it the first time, and if this is your first time reading it i hope u luv it :p a break from the typical dadawon
over the past six years, yang jungwon has learned to battle the ferocious beast that shreds his insides, aching to escape, whenever he’s not soothed by your presence. he knows it’s strange – the violent feeling that stews inside of him when he’s overstayed his welcome in your home to the point of it no longer being normal, and he must part ways with you. parting ways with you — sure, easy enough. at least such an action would be easy if his life garnered any other purpose, aside from saturating all of his senses in anything related to you. unfortunately, and as mockingly apparent as it was, jungwon’s life garnered no other purpose. therefore, it was never easy.
when it came to you, jungwon held to hyperawareness with incessance. a hyperawareness which stemmed into every physical reaction of yours, every mannerism, then every emotion it alluded to. he knew everything about you, all of everything, things that you probably couldn’t ever come to learn about yourself. all your sides, all the things which bring you happiness, anger, despair. all your secrets, all the things you’ll never share with anyone else for fear of their reaction – you never had to fear jungwon’s reaction, though. jungwon never came close to a repulsion for you, and nothing about you ever made him want to distance himself from you. gosh, if that’s not a foolish thought, since all he ever wanted was more. that’s all he could ever feel for you – a constant loop, an ache for more. an ache which far surpasses the regards anyone holds towards their best friend, but for the time being, he’s happy to have at least merited that title from you.
“peas, yuck.”
the chime of your voice captures his attention, and he would say it made him divert his gaze to you – but who is he kidding, he was already looking at you. as though there was somewhere else he could be looking regardless.
he’s at your place, ever the usual, sitting at your counter and observing the sight of you in your kitchen, scrolling through the board of recipes you’ve gathered on pinterest. that’s all he ever wants to willingly partake in; watching you and whichever activity you’ve decided has seized your interest that day.
oh, if watching you wasn’t rewarding – delicious, even. you’re bent over the counter, phone in hand, though he’s far from concerned with the screen; not when you’ve inadvertently created a display case of all his favorite goodies. if they could understand him, he would easily offer a ‘thank you’ to the soft shorts you donned, simply for disclosing the smooth flesh of your thighs and framing the plush swell of your ass so beautifully. oh, your body – he could say he loved it, though a word so condensed could never suffice in capturing the complexities he held for your every pore. over the years, he’s created a detailed map, captured detailed memories of every inch of skin your clothing has allowed him to see even a brief peek of. all the beautiful traits surrounding you, the kindness and grace of your soul, and nothing short of a smokeshow of a body to pair with it. he knows you’re an angel, if they’ve ever existed.
jungwon clears his throat, hoping the action will aid in clearing the daze in his mind, the dryness of it evident in the rasp it creates. his thoughts began to fly away with him, much like they always do when he’s around you. it irritates him to no end, merely for the possibility of missing out on any form of any sound your breath might escape you in.
“what are you looking at, babydoll?” he asks, his voice a tender lull, still with a hint of the rasp he obtained from his shameless distraction. the pet name always seems to sneak past his lips amid conversation with you; a freudian slip of sorts, though you seem to occupy every faction of his conscious, for that matter. the first time it happened, you were a bit taken aback, but it’s not like you ever retorted in protest to the endearment he regarded you in. you’ve grown pleasantly accustomed to it now, though, and you cannot seem to recall the final time your actual name stumbled into a conversation with him. that unspoken sanction alone delights him to no end, since it further embellishes the sense of ownership he holds for you. though he does own you, you just don’t know it yet.
“just some pasta recipes. but after seeing all these peas, i think i’d rather bake something instead,” you tell him, straightening your position from the counter – a tragic loss for the perverted little goblin inside of jungwon – and moving to gather all the tools necessary for your mentioned activity.
his eyes follow you, almost as though they were tracking devices programmed with auto-targeting precision to lock aim upon you. shameless, greedy in his gaze, more-than-admiring the ratio from your shoulders, to your waist, then your hips. to him, the importance and significance just bloomed from every perceivably minor feature that aided in creating you. the subtly visible blemishes on your shoulders, the way each tendril of your hair spilled over your neck, the way your flesh rippled and jiggled from your thighs up to your ass as you walked. as might be expected, and in no contradiction to any other day he’s spent beside you, the blood began rushing to visit him in his cock. he’s having such a hard time, in such a vast array of ways. fortunately for jungwon, you always seemed to be distracted in some way, which is something he learned to love about you – because, well, it’s you, and because he’s yet to be caught solid and poking through his pants in the presence of you.
“you really like baking, huh?” he inquires, the soft tone of his voice bleeding into the soft smile settling on his face. his voice always bore an ironic sense of casualness, in a manner that never seemed to betray his thoughts which bore a painfully stark contrast. after all, six years is plenty of time to reign some semblance of control over those obstacles.
you flash him a soft, natural smile which he could never allow himself to miss – just as he could never allow himself to miss the way your tits bounce slightly after your heels touch the ground, having elevated yourself on your toes to reach for a bowl. under absolutely no circumstances would jungwon miss an unwitting exhibit of your assets. as though it provided any aid to the situation for him at all, more blood rushes to visit his awakening cock.
“yea, i do. i love the decorating part too.”
“i know you do.” an easier prompt would be what he doesn’t know.
with the same autonomous instincts as always, his eyes attach themselves to the way a radiant smile decorates your face as you read the notification lighting up your phone screen. what’s the cause of such a smile on your beautiful face? what was making you so damn happy, and why wasn’t that smile directed towards him? something as beautiful as a smile you create should only ever be directed towards him.
“oh, yea!” you start, striding to stand directly across from the counter where he sat, phone still in your clutch. it’s apparent to him from the blazing excitement in your tone, for something he wasn’t responsible for, that he wouldn’t enjoy a single second of what was to come.
“i didn’t tell you about the date i’m going on tomorrow.”
for a moment, the world seems to halt in it’s rotation – jungwon’s world, at least, which so shamelessly, obviously revolved around you. any syllable following the word ‘date’ seemed to drift into a languid murmur as that single, treacherous word blared echoes throughout his vacant mind. the possessiveness spreads over his rational thoughts like an infection. the air surrounding him sinks into his chest like cinderblocks. the pressure constricts his throat, as if the words you spoke placed a hand there. no, not this, he thinks. anything but this.
managing enough self-control to present himself normally – normal for him, at least – he schools his expression. his front teeth sink into his tongue, his cheekbones even more prominent for a moment before he mutters, “what date?”
you knew jungwon felt an intense protectiveness towards you, it was nothing new. one that translated into the way he demanded every trivial detail of any endeavor you participated in which didn’t involve his company, not just dates. going to the doctor? he wants to research him. seeing your family? he wants you to text him. planning a girls day? he wants to know how long you’ve known them.
a date, however, was an entirely different arena.
your expression softens into fond resignation, your mind preparing to quell the queries you know are pending behind the protective gleam in jungwon’s eyes.
“he’s a guy i met recently. he’s a friend of a friend, he asked me for my phone number when she introduced us.”
that wasn’t enough to subdue your best friend.
“describe him.”
oh, here he goes. the manner in which his words travel to you, the command they carry with them, makes you falter subtly – a certain sensation fills your chest, a sudden sense of apprehension, hardly apparent, but apparent nonetheless, melds with the fondness expanding within you. what was jungwon planning on doing with that kind of information?
you comply, however, listing off the attributes of the man – the man whom you only planned to get a harmless cup of coffee with – like you were filing a police report.
“does that make you feel better?” you ask your best friend, a sense of amusement with his antics betraying itself in the laugh laced with your question, and the tone in your voice that almost tells him ‘you’re being ridiculous.’
jungwon knew he was being ridiculous, but it’s not like that would ever stop him. he’s never been reluctant to question you in his superabundant way, nor will he ever. even if you think his reactions are undue, he just wants to be absolutely certain you’re safe, thoroughly protected with every waking moment. the only issue is, he’s only ever convinced of your safety when you’re with him.
a laugh escapes him in a breath through his nose. no, actually. his tension isn’t eased at all. he can’t tell you that, though. he could never venture to tell you that he wants to camouflage himself in a bush near the window of the coffee shop you’ll be taken to. that’ll just make you run away, of course.
“a little better. just– share your location with me. even if you think you don’t need to,” he reminds, gluing his gaze to yours to be sure his conviction sticks with you.
“okay, okay. i will, jungwon. you don’t need to go all ‘hitman’ on me. now come help me choose what i’m going to wear.”
before he could muster a facade of neutrality for that, though, jungwon needed to gather his composure. he slips away from you, a mutter of ‘be right back’ settling in the air between the two of you, and rests his back against the shut door behind him as he arrives to your bathroom. it was almost a temporary oasis, since it allows him to reel his thoughts in without your presence – a presence he loves, but only serves to further complicate his turmoil, currently. he shuts his eyes, smushing his eyelids together as he draws in a long breath, allowing it to escape him once he’s confident the tension will escape, too. once he opens his eyes, reabsorbing his surroundings, grounding himself, his eyes drift to the pile of clothing you left in the bathroom – forgotten after you shower, he’s sure. with his curiosity consuming him, and his morality leaving him, he rummages through the pile until he’s met with the lacy cloth he aimed to find – your panties. he brings the thin fabric to his nose, allowing your scent to fill his nostrils with a hearty sniff. before he allows himself to drift too far into arousal, he simply pockets your lace thong – you won’t notice just one pair missing, right? without a single drop of regret swimming in his body, he exits the bathroom, and approaches your awaiting figure in the kitchen.
none the wiser, how cute.
in tandem, the two of you file into your bedroom. jungwon isn’t exactly wild about the idea of helping you to choose the outfit you’ll be wearing for a man who isn’t him. perhaps, he can convince you to wear something of his – drowning your figure and proving his claim on you, all at once. an ambitious thought, though a harrowing reality to come.
“okay. i was thinking,” you start, heading into your closet as you speak to him, laying the three outfits you’ve indecisively cycled through onto your bed. “maybe the dress would be the best option.”
dress? oh, absolutely not. even if he was left with only one ounce of energy in his body, he would use it to snatch the dress away from you, and prevent you from ever presenting yourself to that man in it. his mind led him down a path of various scenarios – one being the fact that this man would likely receive the pleasure of seeing your snail trail once you stood up from your seat, if he encouraged your decision to wear it. fucking faceless bastard – he’s so endlessly perturbed by the mere image, mere possibility of this sickening event unfolding. he wouldn’t even consider the man lucky, only ungrateful in all honesty, because he probably wouldn’t even lean down and sniff it.
he must sway your convictions elsewhere.
“no,” he responds plainly, scanning over the other options you all-too-eagerly laid out on your bed. “this one’s better,” he fibs, extending his arm to gesture toward the flattering top and pants laying humbly among the other two options. “i think it’ll really suit you. plus you love those pants, right?” in actuality, he knew the dress would snatch away anyone’s breath who saw you in it, but the selfish part of him only wanted you to look appealing to such an extent for him.
much to jungwon’s dismay, the dress called, and called you, drawing your attention as though it grew arms and began to wave them in the air. “ugh, but… a dress would be better for a date, right?” you lift the dress from the bed by it’s hanger, holding it against your body. he knew this would happen, he knew you wouldn’t actually take his advice, but the thought of your date seeing the legs he staked an illusory claim upon was simply unbearable. “i want to really look nice. besides, it’s been a little while since i wore those pants, i’m not even sure if i would look good in them anym–”
speaking of unbearable. the thought of you finishing that sentence was every facet of the word.
“don’t,” he intrudes, his voice carrying a bit more force than he intended. he coaxed the dress from your grasp, uncurling your already loosening fingers from the hanger with ease, and placed the pants there instead. “don’t even say that. you’re all kinds of perfect. so don’t you ever say that again.”
you, not looking good in something? he could almost laugh at the thought, if it didn’t irritate him so much. it was so ridiculous and outlandish, he wanted to kick the thought from your brain, and into a chasm of lava derived solely to eradicate outlandish things.
you fondle with the pants jungwon placed in your grasp, averting your eyes for just a moment as you attempt to regather the composure he stole from you with no deliberation. it was no secret to you that he found you pretty, since he reminded you nearly as frequently as daily. those words, however, being spoken to you with such honesty and conviction, was a brand new territory – inviting butterflies into your stomach that you received no instructions in tending to.
you clear your throat, though there was nothing obstructing it. then, you tuck your hair behind you ear, though it was already there. distractions, little fruitless movements you always completed on autopilot to cope with the fluttering feelings erupting in your system. jungwon began to discover the reason for these actions over the course of your friendship, studying each motion and the reason behind it’s dawn. jungwon could describe how you were feeling, even if you never said a word. that’s how he’s grown to be, with you. all the same, an almost pleasant feeling seemed to visit him at your current disoriented state. a state which he braced the responsibility of, no less.
“well… thank you, won,” you tell him, which he found endlessly endearing. you couldn’t ever let a compliment reach your ears without an expression of gratitude leaving your lips. “but it’s just… i was already kinda set on the dress,” you admit, a playfully sheepish smile spreading it’s way across your face as your gaze ascends to his. “it feels right.”
jungwon chuckles, almost bitter, but it still dances with the same level of friskiness you send to him. “why did you even ask for my advice if you already knew what you wanted to wear,” he grills, a very rational question highlighting the very irrational course of action you just subjected him to. his question only earns a giggle from you, one he pockets in his brain like gold as you toss the pants back to him.
“oops,” you shrug exaggeratedly, an equally exaggerated expression meeting your features. “i guess it just helped me to confirm things. that, and it was fun.”
his endearment possesses him to shake his head at your answer, though he was never truly perturbed by the time he found himself spending with you. “yeah, wear your dress, then, but i hope you remember the false sense of influence you just gave me,” he jokes, but he also began to prepare for the impending loss of sanity he’d experience as the time for your date rolled around.
farewell to any chance of you wearing those pants, he thinks.
in coalition with the day of your date, jungwon planned to meet with the group of friends he’d developed beyond the separate realm of delirium he created for you. regardless of his constant stubborn refusal to be anywhere that you weren’t, he still found the time to see them. in fact, sunghoon was the entire reason why he even found the opportunity to spend each of his waking moments thinking about you – see, sunghoon met you first, and gradually developed a bond with you once you began tutoring his sister. one specific day, sunghoon invited his buddies over to his house during a tutoring session of yours, one of which happened to be your soon-to-be secret – albeit unhealthy – admirer. when jungwon laid his eyes upon you, his mind was overcome with cliches which he never imagined he’d experience; the dreamily windblown hair, and a sequence of slow motion which only seemed to be visible for him. needless to say, once you caught his eyes, the friendship between the two of you bloomed and flourished rapidly – after jungwon received a bit of nudging from sunghoon and the others, of course. in the same sense, jungwon bore endless gratitude toward sunghoon for introducing the two of you, although sunghoon would never allow that fact to slip his mind, for that matter.
“dude, she’s on a date? i bet you’re fucking pissed,” heeseung teases, taking another sip from his beer, the pink tint on his cheeks making it clear that this wasn’t his first.
of course he’s fucking pissed. even if he’d lived through this before, endured the duration of your dates on other occasions, it never seemed to pass any easier for him.
jungwon’s shoulders tensed slightly, and despite his relaxed posture against his chair, his hand clenched into a fist upon the table where it rested. his knuckles worked, fingers dancing faintly as he attempted to calm himself. “yea, i’m pissed. but it’s not like she hasn’t been on other dates before. it might not even end up meaning anything,” he responds, his words only as hopeful as they could possibly be, amid the tumultuous images of you, being charmed and swayed as he sat dormant in this restaurant – the restaurant he often found himself retreating to on occasions similar to the current one.
a chuckle resounded through the cozy tenor of the restaurant, then came jay’s turn to pile on the punishment, as he piped up from his seat beside jungwon.
“you keep hoping it doesn’t. but what are you gonna do if it works out this time?” he plops his hand onto the base of jungwon’s neck in a mockingly comforting gesture, giving him a shake that says ‘snap out of it.’
a sigh drifts from jungwon’s lips as his knuckles continue to dance. gosh, he doesn’t even want to think about that. it was hardly imaginable, the possibility of your usual doomed relationships and flings blooming into something which will truly keep you intangible.
“i-i don’t know. i just… i don’t feel like i can tell her how i feel. i don’t wanna… scare her away,” his eyes remain planted onto the half empty glass of beer in front of him.
this time, sunghoon chimes in, his lips curling amusedly, though not enough to reveal his sharp canines – he did hold sympathy for his friend, after all. “jungwon, come on. it’s been years. if you were gonna scare her away, i think you would’ve already done it,” he pokes, allowing jungwon to remember that his behavior still isn’t quite normal enough to maintain a best friend level, even with his attempts to hide himself.
another sigh leaves jungwon, as though that’s all he can will himself to do. “you don’t get it, man–”
jay interjects, letting out a laugh akin to a scoff, as though he already knows the words that are going to tumble from jungwon’s mouth – in all honesty, he does, and he’s growing weary of the tiptoe routine his friend seems to perform an incessant encore of. “nah, we ‘get it’ just fine. she didn’t pick up on all your telepathic signals, now you look like an idiot all because you won’t shoot your shot,” he leans closer to jungwon for a moment to stress his point further. sunghoon and heeseung laugh, only providing more of a grating sensation on jungwon’s nerves.
heeseung nudges jungwon’s foot under the table, his smile still broad from his laughter. “i can’t blame you for wanting to be careful, though. if you weren’t so obsessed with her, i’d be all over that, i mean, goddamn…”
jungwon’s brows knit, and his teeth just might crack with how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. “what?”
sunghoon nods, holding no regard for the alarmingly rapid spiral occurring within jungwon, a smirk finding his features as he admits to his concurrence with heeseung’s crude revelation. “yea, that body, man… jungwon, if you let her stay single for too long i might just have to make a move on her myself,” his canines glinted on full display as his words pumped a nearly irrepressible fury through jungwon’s blood.
they’re just messing around, they’re just messing around, they’re just messing around. he urges his mind to repeat the words, hoping that the attempts of self-regulation alone will prove sufficient against the wrath bubbling within him. a familiar possessiveness travels through his veins as though he’d been bitten.
as jungwon shuts his eyes, jaw taut and knuckles equally so, heeseung permits another jeer to spill from his throat. “i swear, man, if you don’t hurry up, maybe i’ll just fuck her. i’ll have her bent over something quicker than–”
it took every grain of his willpower to repress the possessiveness, the ferocity, but those words snatch all control away from him. his eyes fly open, and his chair falls helplessly behind him as he leaps up, grasping heeseung’s collar across the length of the table, hauling the taller man from his chair.
“watch what the fuck you say about her, heeseung,” he seethes, his eyes manic, his words struggling to project past the anger in his throat – akin to the way heeseung struggled to breathe as his shirt collar dug into his neck. in every form, jungwon was livid, features betraying every trace of it, his veins pulsing through the skin of his forearms as he tightened his clutch on heeseung’s collar. when it came to you, his instinct to protect sharply surpassed any regard he held for anyone.
without a moment to spare, observing jungwon’s ravening emotional state, jay and sunghoon rise to their feet, prepared to aid the situation – the efficiency coming to them so quickly granted they’ve lived this reality before. jay begins to pry jungwon from heeseung, providing him with placating words as though he were a brutish predator. “jungwon! jungwon, calm down, man,” jay eases, his concern steadily dissipating as he notices the tension leaving jungwon’s shoulders, unwinding from his fingers, and lifting from his knitted brows. in spite of it all, jungwon’s eyes still simmer with his rage, stubbornly refusing to tear away from heeseung’s form. “i’m not kidding,” he states further, wanting to be certain that heeseung understands his seriousness, his conviction in his claim that you were strictly off limits.
heeseung adjusts his shirt, giving jungwon a light, yet chiding push which earns a glare from both sunghoon and jay, who only wish to see the end of this situation. “chill, jungwon. i was just kidding,” a subtle chuckle erupts from his chest as the rigidity begins to melt from their discussion. “i mean, why are you only getting mad at me like sunghoon wasn’t talking shit, too,” he points to sunghoon with his thumb, a nudge from the mentioned finding it’s way into his shoulder soon after. “you’re just gonna throw me under the bus?” sunghoon bites back, his expression exaggeratedly incredulous, though there was not a trace of any true bite within his words.
jungwon looks away, a sheepish smile discovering his features as his friends’ bickering persists, unveiling a gentle trace of his dimple. he felt a little silly now – he knew he exploded, allowed himself to get riled up like a child. it was about you, though, and in that moment he just couldn’t navigate the ability to gather his impulses. jay’s hand slinks from his shoulder, a breath leaving him in relief. “fuck, man,” he murmurs. “don’t do this in public again.”
the afternoon following your date, jungwon found himself on your sofa, listening intently as you blathered about how disappointing it was – it took a certain level of resolve to prevent himself from whooping in glee, reveling in the relief that he could still cling to his false sense of ownership over you. nonetheless, he listened with concern.
“it’s just… he was very… strange,” you admit with reluctance, placing the folded shorts you held on the sofa beside you, and reaching into the laundry basket to grab another item of clothing.
jungwon’s eyes trace each of your movements, his mind blooming with images of you, sitting across from a man whom he had scarce knowledge of – merely his appearance and the fact that he’s strange.
“strange how?” he takes a moment to blink as his mind threatens to fantasize about your figure in the skirt you were currently folding.
“just… he had a strange way of ‘getting to know me.’ i don’t think he was actually concerned with that at all,” the dismissive lilt in your voice signals your dismay as the skirt in your grasp plops amongst the pile beside you.
jungwon absorbs your expression — he knows every overtone of that expression, as he does the rest of them. “what kinds of things did he say?”
your shoulders deflate, a hefty sigh fleeing from your chest soon afterward. the reluctance in your eyes renews the curious vigilance already dancing behind jungwon’s, and the next words leaving your tongue would prove difficult for him to absorb, he was certain.
“well… he—” you pause in search of the courage to tell jungwon, the most tactful way to form the sentence, wary of the manner your words would reach him. “he kept asking if he could take photos of me.”
the sheer crudity of the words that man spoke to you led him to inhale crisply, though the sight of the faint bruise wrapping around your wrist catches the air in his throat. how had he missed that before?
jungwon leans forward from his lounging position on the couch, his elbows adjusting to rest on his knees. the familiar protective glare glinted once again, his hands wringing so furiously that the sound of his skin rubbing together could be heard in the burdened silence of the room. he didn’t meet your eyes – his eyes only bore focus onto the discoloration marring your beautiful skin, attributable to only one specific person, he was certain. the tightness of the atmosphere hugged your body, and the stable pause from jungwon stretched into nearly an entire minute, offering you no consolation.
“tell me what he did.”
“jungwon–”
“tell me what he did,” his eyes finally capture yours, the demand blazing behind them piercing you enough to pin you to the cushions of the sofa. he extends his hand to lay hold of your wrist, the subtlety, the tenderness of his fingers against your skin contradicting the rigidity of his words. he would never hurt you, beyond any trace of doubt, no matter the intensity of his anger.
“he… he did this when i was getting out of the car, after he dropped me off. he grabbed me because i told him i wasn’t interested in seeing him again. then he… he looked like he realized what he was doing, and he stopped. tried to make it seem like it was just a joke,” the tears tickle your eyelids before you can even will them away, and the genuine terror you felt from last night began to swell in the center of your chest.
the terror was accompanied ruthlessly by guilt – guilt stemming from the way you planned to withhold this experience from jungwon, in an attempt to prevent any pain he would be subjected to by extension. you knew how it would hurt him, you’ve seen it on boundless occasions in the past. even a small bump into the wall would have jungwon ready to send a sledgehammer straight through it. the gravity of the treatment you received from the man you saw last night could only brew an unfathomable feeling within him, one you never wished to seem him suffer from. it couldn’t be comfortable for him, battling a rage which could only subside partially from acting upon the mercilessly brutal images in his mind.
“why weren’t you going to tell me?” the agony sailing within his voice pushes the tears down your face – you hadn’t anticipated the fact that his misery would only increase tenfold upon the discovery that you were going to try and hide your pain from him. gosh, he could read you so well. the soft chuckles you make when you divert your attention to the joke you hear from the tv, the giggles that erupt when you’re promptly reminded of something you found funny months ago, and the way your lip quivers, the way you seem to try to still it with a clamp of your teeth, when you’re hesitant to divulge the turbulence within your mind. then you’re harboring an emotion he can only detect as shame, though he can’t imagine why you would ever ferment such a feeling when you’re with him, swaddled by the safety of him – reassuring, endlessly understanding him. the man you never felt judged by, in the slightest.
“i… i didn’t want you to be hurt or stressed by it, won. i knew you would be angry… i just… i didn’t want it tormenting you. i’m sorry, i–”
jungwon gently silences you, soothes you with a hand through your hair, guiding you to lay your head easily in his lap.
“hey… babydoll,” an exhale leaves him with such heavy tenor, the firmness buried within his eyes only softening as he engrosses himself in the sight of your tears. he caresses your head, his nails providing a tender scratch that always dispels any burdens you carry, urging you to just let it all out, without a verbal mention. “you know i’m not mad at you, right? it’s okay… just… please… don’t feel like you have to hide anything like this from me. i want to protect you, from anything. i want to know, so i can,” his voice holds a devastatingly unimposing, quiet conviction that slows the rapidness of your pulse, reminding you that he welcomes you, completely transparent in form.
“i will, won… i… i’m sorry,” the final streams of your tears sink into the fabric of his pants, darkening tiny spots within it.
his hand slips from your hair, only for a moment to embark on yet another journey of comfort, coasting his thumb along the slipperiness of your cheek, easing the gush of your tears. “you don’t need to keep saying that, alright? you don’t even need to feel that. you just didn’t want to hurt me, and that’s so precious. just… that’s just not something you need to even think about. the only thing that could hurt me, is not being able to protect you.”
jungwon truly did love the way you seemed to want to protect him, too, from all the situations you knew would awaken the fury within him – just as he loved all of your traits. in the same sense, he grieved at the thought of you hiding a part of yourself from him, something which caused you pain, for the sole sake of sparing him. his existence revolved around shielding you from all pain, and all the forms it may attempt to reach you in. he longs to protect your light, your happiness, though he doesn’t feel as though he’s done a very fine job in fulfilling that purpose – not after that man hurt you, and he wasn’t there.
your head burrows further into the comfort of his thigh, your hand resting limply among the same space. “i… thank you won. i love you. from now on, i’ll be better. i promise.”
and there it is, for the hundredth time. the sincere, though perceivably platonic manner in which those words tumble from your mouth. the absence of any deeper, romantic undercurrents almost carved a pit into his chest, everytime. though in all honesty, he could never will himself to complain about any trace of affection he received from you, no matter how friendly it may come. your proximity only sent him into a further spiral – when you’re this close to him, it proves marginally more difficult to stop himself from just smothering you with his love, revealing to you every extensive, intricate layer, every steadily developed line of the oh-so-painfully complex emotions he carries for you, throughout every waking and dreaming moment of his life. his life that would feel so futile, if not to be spent orbiting you, and he’s not even sure that the word ‘emotion’ will suffice to describe what ignited in his body as he came to know you.
“i… i love you too,” i love you more than the word love will allow, he wishes he could say. “and… and don’t say that. you don’t need to change at all. you don’t need to be anything more than the beautiful person that you already are. do you understand?”
you shift your eyes to lock with his, a feathery smile discovering your lips. you couldn’t ignore the new tears that nearly blurred the sight of jungwon in front of you, his words washing over you, stunning you like a tide. so consistently, jungwon makes you feel so needed, like such a necessary presence in his life. you’ve never experienced that before, not with anyone else. “yea, won. i understand.”
his gaze does not avert, his eyes remaining present with yours as though a string of glue kept them connected, prohibiting them from straying.
“what? you look like you wanna say something,” your words puncture the brief silence, tossing a bucket of realization and restraint onto jungwon.
he does want to say something, so many things for that matter. he almost hates just how perceptive you are, the only thing stopping him being the fact that he cannot hate anything about you. alas, he cannot seem to hide things from you; you’ve known him for equally as long as he’s known you, and you’ve grown to learn his mind, his mannerisms, his habits. well, in better terms, he can’t hide the fact that he’s hiding something, because he can damn sure hide things from you – he’s been doing it for years.
“nothing, just… i hate seeing you cry. are you alright?” his words were fully, wholly true, though there was a plethora of confessions hidden beneath them which he could not allow himself to reveal to you.
“mhm, i’m fine. i am now, because you’re here,” you allow a deep breath to run through you, your chest swelling with the cozy affection you held towards him. your instincts warn you that he’s shrouding something else, though you decide not to pry. not now, at least. nonetheless, your words brighten jungwon’s eyes, a warm light filling them as he allows them to dive into each crevice of his brain, emitting dopamine through each of their travels.
his hand finds solace in your hair again, ruffling the tendrils in a subtle shake, ‘so sweet,’ leaving his lips to fill the air in an almost inaudible timbre.
“oh yea, i couldn’t find one of my thongs while i was folding my laundry. i wonder if the dryer ate it,” you allow the information to settle casually, sobering from the solemn spell cast upon the both of you.
“hm? yea, dryer probably ate it,” he feigned innocence, pretending as though he were none the wiser, when he knows all too well they’re laying blissfully among the surface of his nightstand.
his gaze persists upon your form, his smile, his eyes unveiling the feelings you stir within him. every detail of you is so charming to him, everything surrounding you and the world he seemed to step into whenever in your presence. he’s seen it all, watched it all, fell indescribably enamored with it all.
‘let me take you shopping, get your mind off things.’ jungwon allowed those words to visit you the morning after he offered you bundles of comfort, during the phone call you typically receive from him every morning – he tends to call you, if not already in your presence, with the intentions of ‘checking up on you,’ and ‘wondering what you’re up to.’ in all fairness, both of those desires are true, though he also just loves to hear your voice. by this point in your relationship with jungwon, you’ve grown accustomed to having him by your side at all times, it would be strange if he wasn’t there.
“i wanna try and find some new skirts today,” the sound of your voice seems to mirror the grace of the wispy clouds in the sky today, at least to jungwon. the two of you travel the sidewalk of the tranquil shopping strip, the presence of others scarce at the time of day you both chose – jungwon knew you would prefer the nature of these conditions, and he would too, because it meant more of his focus was reserved by you.
the sun blared warm, bright, in such nourishing rays today. all thanks to you for being alive and giving it light, he thinks.
the smile so graciously splitting your face seemed to be fed by the bright day, and by the various trinkets and collectibles glinting in your eyes. clearly, you enjoy shopping, though he cannot pretend as though that’s something he hasn’t already gathered awareness of – his entire mind is dedicated to storing your interests, after all.
he trailed beside you as you entered the next store you were drawn to, itching to browse. his presence loomed over you as though he were a protective shadow, the reminder of his protection placed in the subtle hand on your lower back. as silly as it may seem, he was never unprepared to send glares in the direction of any man who dare even glance at you with a flicker of interest or curiosity. you were his, after all.
he watched you, admired you, basking in the way you always seemed to be illuminated – you were shining, even underneath the draining fluorescents of the store. it was almost as though a spotlight followed you everywhere, but the way you shined under his gaze did more than any hollow light ever could even dream.
“this one’s pretty,” your words snatch his attention, and his eyes avert to the dress held in your grasp, dangling from the clear hanger. “don’t you think so?”
though his eyes only skate over the fabric for a brief moment before returning to your beautiful face, he still answers, “yea, it’s pretty.”
with a small shake of his head, hoping to shake up the thoughts residing there as well, he allows a small laugh to leave him in a breath. “i thought you were looking for skirts?” he bathes in your presence fondly.
“i am, but that was before i saw this,” the dress persists in your hold, a signal to jungwon that you wanted to buy it – though jungwon certainly would not let you pay for it, just as he prohibited you from spending money on any of the items resting in the safety of the bags he held for you.
“i’ll pay for this one, though, won–”
before you can even complete your tedious sentence, jungwon intercepts with “i already told you, don’t worry about it,” his expression mimicking the candor of his words. the grimace you send him is not accompanied by any true annoyance, just an affectionate taunt.
“alright, have it your way. i’m gonna go try this on,” you further your playful derision as your tongue pokes out in his direction, the dress donning your figure swaying in a manner similar to the one in your grasp as you walk away.
his eyes remain bound to your figure as you descend further into the direction of the fitting room, not faltering until hem of your dress disappears behind the door.
awaiting your return, jungwon settles upon busying himself by sifting through a rack of clothing in search of pieces he yearns to see you draped in. then, upon your anticipated return, the compliment begging to erupt becomes lodged in jungwon’s throat – he notices him, a man flawlessly befitting the description you provided him with before your date occurred, approaching you with purposed steps that shriek in confirmation of his suspicions.
it’s almost as though an inexplicable, phantom force seeps into his bones, his flesh, assuming control and steering every action from this moment forward – a force created by him, birthed by his possessiveness, rearing it’s head and jumping into his skin. kill him, kill him, kill him, choruses through his mind, but he’s certain he’s going to make him suffer a fate much more harrowing than death. the memory of the bruise on your delicate wrist revisits his mind, touring every wrinkle and rewriting each one as a vessel for vengeance. he knows, he’s going to kill him.
your focus never left jungwon as you stepped out of the fitting room, gleefully oblivious – you hadn’t yet garnered notice of the familiar man approaching you, though the sight of jungwon’s eyes veering pointedly away from you roused an air of foreboding within your stomach. the moment you follow his quickening movements, however, a sudden understanding rings an alarm within you.
jungwon breaches the distance separating him and the man before you can penetrate your frozen stupor. his hands fasten around the collar of the man’s shirt, ramming him into the adjacent wall with such a horrific thud that the decorative pieces tremble and slip to the floor.
“you touched her,” the focus he carries in effort of bringing suffering to this man seeps into his features, his eyebrows dragging towards one another, a crinkle sprouting in his expression. the air surrounding jungwon almost blackens with the intensity of his all-encompassing resentment, his wrath, cloaked by a dire promise of punishment.
you’ve never heard such a voice from jungwon, not throughout the entire duration of your time together. sure, he’s been protective, and sure, he’s gotten angry with you when you put yourself in dangerous situations. this, however, was so unfamiliar. panic clutching your heart, you hurry forward, placing a quivering hand on jungwon’s shoulder.
“jungwon! it’s okay! jungwon!”
your words don’t reach him, akin to the lack of reaction he gives to the sensation of your hand against him. although, even if he found the ability to steer focus toward anything aside from the man in front of him, he certainly wouldn’t agree with your words – in his mind, it was far from ‘okay.’ the vision of this man bringing fear and dread to your heart, the sight of the bruise he left to wrap around your precious skin was in stark contrast with ‘okay.’ the man hurt you, therefore he needed to suffer, and that was the only sensible conclusion jungwon could reach.
“you thought you could just get away with it, didn’t you? she’s mine. you don’t get to even look at her, and you damn sure don’t get to hurt her,” the steadiness, the ease of his words only further enhance the illusive dark air around him. jungwon demands eye contact with the man as though a spell forcing submission was laced within his pupils.
as the hunger to inflict pain on this man persistently pulses through the taut veins of his forearms, jungwon yanks him forward, slamming him back against the wall once more with enough force to cause his head to bounce sickeningly against it.
“don’t come near her again, or so help me god, i will kill you.”
the unease, the distress filling you at the sight of jungwon in such a manic state only peaks in severity. you renew your vigor, tugging against jungwon’s shoulder with both hands in an attempt to separate him from the man, to reach him and pierce the haze he’s trapped in.
“jungwon! that’s enough! please, let’s just leave!”
in an instant, he turns to face you. the tension in his brows lessens as he studies the worry littering your entire demeanor – eyes nearly trembling, chest heaving, hands clinging to the fabric of his shirt with such quivering force. the words you shouted in your dismay sounded almost distant, as though he was in a glass enclosement and your voice could only narrowly reach him. now, however, everything seems much clearer.
he releases the man, unconcerned with his condition, his eyes persistent in the glow of your frame as though you were guiding him from a dim chamber of imprisonment. without a second of hesitation, he catches hold of your hand, and leads you back to the dressing room.
once you preserve enough control over your shakiness to change, jungwon guides you out of the store in silence.
the door to his place closing behind you almost seems to commence the pending conversation between the two of you.
she’s mine.
the words revisit you relentlessly, along with the memory of the devotion, the determination he held in protecting you. although jungwon’s protectiveness was no secret to you, the sight of him undertaking a complete transformation, moving as though he were possessed, was something you couldn’t have ever prepared yourself to witness. the feelings concocting within you, the concern, the unease, the subtle intrigue – you were entirely unprepared for those, too.
“won, are you alright?”
your gentle voice fills his senses, as a sharp inhale fills his lungs. he turns to face you, battling reluctance in meeting your jumbled expression, and he pauses, observing for a moment as you stand in his entryway.
“i… yea. yea. i’m sorry, babydoll,” his steps guide him closer to you, eliminating the space as though you were magnetized. “i’m so sorry, i just… i saw him, and i… god, i lost control,” his hands ascend to rest in the comfort of your cheeks, thumbs cascading along the skin with evidence of previous tears. “are you okay?”
your mind made the question much more challenging than it should be.
“i… why did you do that to him, won?”
jungwon could sense where you were taking this conversation, he knew you were confused, but he was unsure just how much he could reveal to you without making you run far away from him.
his hands slip from your face, landing among your shoulders instead.
“i would do anything for you, you know that,” the words reach you so casually, yet you knew they were shielding a goldmine of much more, and you were not going to stop until you struck it. sure, it was true, but the intensity of his wrath stemmed from much more than a loyal friendship, and that much was certain.
“i know you would, won. but that’s not what i mean. you wanted to kill him. you told him i was yours. what did you mean by that?”
the sofa to jungwon’s right side suddenly became very interesting. he couldn’t will himself to look you in the eye, not with the weight of the secrets he’s withheld from you for the past six years.
“it… it doesn’t matter. i just don’t like seeing you get hurt, alright?”
you brush his hands off your shoulder, though only with the gentle intention of drawing the truth from his mind, which proved equal in complication to decoding a padlock you didn’t have the combination to. moving to stand in front of him, yearning to meet his eyes and catch a glimpse of even a portion of the emotions concealing themselves behind them, you demand his eye contact akin to the manner he usually does with you.
“no jungwon, that’s just not it. why can’t you tell me how you feel? we’ve always been honest with each other, at least i thought–”
“yea, sure. we’ve always been honest with each other. but would you still want to be around me if i told you even half the things i think about, everytime i see you?”
the raise of his voice, the tumultuous fire blazing within his eyes as he finally drills them into yours both serve to weaken your stance as shock harrows through you.
“what… what do you mean jungwon? maybe i’ll surprise you.”
there it is. there’s the leverage of hope you give him to cling to with your reassuring words. every fiber of his muscles, his flesh his bones, howl a pleading chorus to just tell you, to finally free himself from the self-invented prison he’s been rotting in for years. the fear, however, grips the key with such daunting force – jungwon would move everest if it meant you would realize how he felt for you, how heavenly the relationship between the two of you could potentially be. the only issue he’s ever faced, is the danger of shoving you away from him with his admission, and facing the cruel reality of never standing in your presence again.
“it… it’s not that simple. i’m willing to bet you’d be a little scared of me if you knew how i really felt about you.”
you grasp hold of his hand, hanging onto it with both of yours. “jungwon… it is that simple. please. i’m asking you, just tell me.”
your eyes, those treacherous orbs which always seemed to hold the ability to shatter any sense of reluctance he ever held. now, he knows – this is the moment, this is when it happens. his feelings will finally leave his mind, and crawl into his actions instead.
with the grip you initiated through both of your hands, he yanks your figure to meld against his as his lips meld with yours. his lips meet yours with the intensity of every answer to your question – he’s unleashing it all, everything he kept hidden in the locked box inside of his brain, all the fantasies, all the reactions he could never share. he’s unleashing it all, right now, in this moment with you, and he’ll never put the lid back on.
his free hand cascades along the expanse of your back, the curve of your waist as it descends to the swell of your ass, where it decides to settle. the other hand soon follows, freeing itself from your loosening grasp as it caresses the same path of your body through your dress, burying itself into your pillowy flesh. though as quickly as they land there, spending a moment to revel in the flesh he’s ogled for years, his hands slink along the lines of your waist once more, sliding along your arms as he guides them to rest around his neck. he’s in complete control, painting your body with his demanding desire as he hoists you up, his sly smirk curling against your lips as your legs wind around him with no inquiry for instruction.
jungwon treks the journey through his house to his bedroom, the sounds of his impatient footsteps, his lips smacking against yours, the sounds of your pleasured breaths passing into his mouth all fading into the tension-filled air as he finally, after much time to contemplate exactly how he’d treat you here, lays you onto the tender surface of his bed.
“now that i’ve got my best friend where she belongs.”
once your body sinks within the plush of his blanket, he separates himself from you, merely enough to provide space for his hand to clasp onto your jaw, his lips still feathering against yours. jungwon presses his fingers into your cheeks, a subtle “open” dancing from his lips to caress against yours as he urges your mouth to relax, stretch wide. the sight your mouth provided him with forced his cock to press into your clothed pussy harder, reminding you of the extent of the intensity he held towards devoting himself to every inch of your body. your saliva was so thick as you opened wide for him that it sprawled from your tongue to the roof of your mouth, creating a wall for his tongue to pass through upon entry – a wall which served only to invite him, rather than prevent him. for a moment, he wonders if your pussy will be wet enough to do the same, once he’s granted the honor of laying his eyes upon her, the sweet girl. though who is he kidding, the desperation crawled over your expression, mirroring his own, so of course you were wet enough for that.
his tongue pushes into your mouth, moving through your saliva with reverence, and he traces, cherishes every slimy crevice of your tongue with heed. your sounds, your moans only spur him to kiss you harder, press into you harder, cranking up the intensity of his fervor. he’s searching for you, for all of you, anything related to you. he needed more, more, more, of every delicious bit of you.
warring with reluctance, the pulls his lips from the kiss, though he presses one, two, three slippery pecks against your dilated, pouty lips for remanance. your chest heaves from the vigor he pumped into every second of the kiss, your eyes burying themselves under the gaze he pins you with.
the gaze is quick to wane, as his lips embark a journey along your jaw, slopping kisses onto each bit of skin he can find there. layering praises into each press of his lips against your skin, he murmurs, “fuck… good, so fucking good, babydoll,” in fragments, the pressure of his breath puffing against the skin of your jaw as his breathing grows huskier, more taxing from the contact of your body and his own. he’s so, torturously aware of every point of contact in which his body meets yours, he can hardly restrain the ache to rut against your clothed warmth.
in a languid descent, he drags the tip of his nose along the skin underneath your jaw, tickling the surface as he lands upon your neck. gliding up the familiar course of your waist, his hand skips as it skates along the sweat beginning to bloom on your neck, his thumb aiding him in tilting your head back – a larger expanse of your neck presenting itself tauntingly to him.
he inhales, deep and uninhibited, your scent diffusing through his lungs and permeating his senses in the utmost delectable aroma he’s ever smelled. as his eyes roll back, his mouth quickly presses into your neck, slipping open as he he sucks an utterly greedy amount of skin. his teeth soon follow, sure to leave indentations – he wanted to be sure you knew who owned you once he made you pass out on his bed.
the cry that flees past your lips has him leaning away from your neck, boring into your eyes. “don’t whine, babydoll. i need to mark you.”
his mouth pursues his mutilation of your skin, painting your neck in his saliva and an intense indigo of bruises created to remain with you with no plan to cease. then, as he cascades along the fabric of your dress, reaching them hem, he asks, “are you ready for what happens when this dress comes off?”
though your nod grants him the permission he so feverishly craves, it’s simply not enough.
his thumbnail digs into the flesh of your thigh, leaving an indentation which will soon be followed by others. “say you’re ready babydoll. i need your words.”
your gentle whimper, and reflexive twitch of your leg precede your reply of, “i’m ready, won.”
once the words fall from your lips, his fingers brush against the straps of your dress, urging them to dangle defenselessly against your shoulder as his lips latch onto your clavicle. while all-but-swallowing the skin there, he tugs your dress along your skin in a tender scrape, revealing parts of your body he’s yet to explore as the dress traverses the paths he’ll soon cross. only parting when he must pull your dress down the expanse of your legs, he draws the dress from your body like a breath, lifting it with reverence.
as your dress plunks down onto the floor, jungwon allows himself a moment to simply stare, absorbing, collecting, finally viewing every visible portion of your body, the body he’s been abstained from for so, so long.
then, his gaze climbs your body and rises to your eyes, basking in the sheer neediness he discovers there – neediness blossoming from the mere proximity of your bodies, the sensation of your lips moulding, the submission of donning his marks. you have absolutely no idea how beautiful your desire looks on you, he thinks.
“you look fucking beautiful, just as desperate as i am, huh?” he lifts your wrist to his mouth, his fingers breezily wrapped around it, inhaling your divine scent once more. “you have no idea how good you smell, or taste. i’m gonna devour you, you know that?” the breath laced within each of his words whisk along the skin of your arm, and his lips follow quickly behind their trail, pressing into your skin with worship, exploration.
jungwon kisses you again, your lips merging only briefly until they land upon your shoulder, his hands guiding you to lean forward as he unclasps your bra deftly, lifting it from your body to accompany your dress.
he allows the sight in front of him to completely submerge him – the disbelief, the surreality of your tits displayed before him when he’s only ever found the good fortune to leer at them through your clothing. “oh my fucking god,” the adoring whisper erupts from his throat as he leans down, scattering damp kisses along the valley of your breasts, the swell, the temperate quiver of his lips only sending goosebumps along your skin and further hardening your nipples.
of course, jungwon notices – just as he’s nimble in noticing any development gracing your body or mood. his tongue slithers from his mouth, flowing along your skin until he meets your nipple, leaving a trail of slimy saliva in his travels. in spite of the vicinity, he doesn’t provide any kind of contact – he planned to keep you waiting, for certain. not as punishment, but reverence. it was impressive honestly, the patience he presented, considering the strict abstinence he placed on himself from indulging in you. though now that you’re spread beneath him, he’s going to take his time unwrapping every bit of the gift that you are to him.
jungwon’s tongue circles, swirls the skin surrounding your nipple, though he entirely avoids it – he can’t just slurp it into his mouth as he wants to, as he knows you want him to, he must wander the vast island of your beautiful body that he’s been graced with. shutting his mouth, he gathers his saliva, allowing it to pool onto his tongue, rolling his tongue out and observing wickedly as it coats your nipple, gliding along the bud in a warm glaze.
a stuttered gasp escapes you convulsively, and your body attempts to retreat further into the mattress as your fingers cling to the fabric of his shirt. the sight causes jungwon’s cock to leap against you, weighing heavier against your heat – the heat concealed only by the lace of your panties.
“w-won, please!”
the chuckle rising from his amused arousal breezes directly along your agitated nipple, a truly strategic move by him. his hand squishes against the plush of your breast, only urging your nipple closer to his mouth as he speaks. “what’s the matter, babydoll? you know i need to take my time,” his lips caress your nipple as he utters the devious words to you.
“i-i know, but… but god, i can feel you,” your hips twitch from the symptoms of the torturous restraint they’ve only scarcely clung to, until he presses them further into the mattress with his own, the heft of his cock only encouraging another surge of your arousal, drenching the lacy tendrils of your thong – how sweet, the sight of your desperation building with his own.
“oh, i know babydoll… fuck i can feel you too. you’re making me so fucking hard,” he knew you could feel him, the fabric of his pants expanding to accommodate his sprouting length, the magnitude of the stretch almost concerning if it wasn’t so alluring.
cracking his narrowly held restraint, jungwon encompasses your nipple with his mouth, sucking, swirling, and flicking his tongue around the hardened bud. when your hands entangle themselves in the tendrils of his hair, he hums, and moans, sending vibrations though your already quivering body which pull a jolt from you. jungwon only follows your body as you attempt to retreat further into the mattress, attempting to escape the flutters of harrowing pleasure that his warm, brutally slick tongue pours onto you.
your hips push against his heft with newfound resistance, your hands willing his head to stay in place and wishing to push him away all the same – though your indecision when faced with such pleasure encourages jungwon to slide his tongue along the valley of your breasts in search of your other nipple, providing a surge of the same treatment onto it.
the sound of your moans dwindling into silence don’t signal a lack of enjoyment to him – with a glance upwards, taking in the sight of your flickering eyelids and your slackened jaw, he knows you’re merely facing such an overload of sensation that sound can no longer spring from your throat.
jungwon pulls his lips from your nipple, languid in each movement, still clinging to the feeling of such a sensitive part of you gliding along his tongue, and savoring each response you gifted to him.
with a final taunting bite to your nipple, and two kisses traced with praise and awe, he completely separates his mouth from your tits. “look at me.”
your eyes haul open, gathering your scattered focus and landing upon the man resting just above your torso. his mouth still carrying the sliminess of his encounter with your tits, his chest prodding against your torso with each inhale, and his own eyes muddled and dim, a peek into the havoc of his mind.
“my little babydoll, already so worn out,” he leans forward to seize your fluffy lips again, his nose running along the skin of your cheek as he continues. “you’re adorable, you know that? i just wanna keep making you feel this good, but it’s so hard not to just–” he inhales heavily, the fragrance of you reminding him to slow down, to delight in the feast of your body without a hurry.
“won, i’m so wet.”
jungwon is racked by a physical pain as you mutter those words, so tender, so sweet, his sweet, sweet baby. for a moment, he’s immobilized, the weight of the blood in his cock becoming nearly too burdening to sustain.
“mhm… i know, babydoll. i know you are,” his lips feather along your cheek before he adjusts himself to rest on his heels, gripping your ankle as he basks in the luxury of your tender, seemingly intangible pussy by the torturous masquerade he shackled himself in for ages.
“i’m getting there, i promise, i just need to taste you,” he lifts your foot as his grip persists on your ankle, and sweeps his lips over the bottom of your foot in a reverent kiss. “all over,” then, his tongue presses into the top of your foot, coasting along, tickling your smooth skin until he meets the base of your knee. “you’ll let me do that, won’t you?”
as you tug your leg back in an involuntary yank, jungwon’s grasp only tightens, fingers constricting around your joint. “you’ll let me do that, won’t you?” he repeats. “you’ll be still, and let me have my way?”
“y-yes, won…” your thigh ripples from the sensitive throbs of your restless pussy – and as if it’s a pattern sewn into his bones, he notices.
“god, she’s so impatient. she’s so mad at me for denying her, isn’t she?” his eyes maintain focus of the grandeur between your thighs, and he stutters an exhale at the way your panties cling to the eager flesh of your pussy. god, you really are wet. though the way his boxers cling to the damp head of his cock proves his eagerness in a manner which mirrored your own.
“but she’s so happy that i’m gonna take care of her after all this time, isn’t she?” he embarks upon a journey of kisses to the plush of your thigh, still refusing to make contact with the subject of his conversation. “yea? i’m happy too. you have no idea how fucking happy i am.”
jungwon’s hands skate forward once more, refusing to leave your legs as he inches closer to the seams of your thong.
he runs his fingers along the lines as though he were tracing a careful mold for permanence – his fingers glide along each edge, beginning his course on the seam nearest your thighs, then running above the seam between your hips, along your torso. the butterflies flap shamelessly just below the skin his fingers dance along.
a brief smile appears in it’s subtlety as your torso jumps and stutters, and he leans down to lick the sweat dewing in the valley of your breasts, transitioning seamlessly into faint kisses down the path to your belly button, circling his tongue in the surrounding space, a trail of his saliva painting you in yet another patch of skin.
“w-won… please just take them off,” as you speak, jungwon’s hands shift to pin down your wrists, stiffening your arms for even the mere possibility of you removing your panties yourself.
“i am, babydoll. you’re just so beautiful when you’re needy.”
he releases your wrists, and his fingers slink beneath the fabric of your thong – he tugs, the lace bunching and squeezing against the flesh of his fingers as he splits it, the fabric weeping in distress as each tendril detaches under the heedless display of jungwon’s greed. after battling meager exertion, he allows the shredded lace to join your other clothing among the floor beside his bed.
your mangled underwear doesn’t perturb you in the slightest, not when you could see the veins in jungwon’s hands, his forearms, pulsing as he tore them apart with ease.
“oh, there she is. there’s my girl,” he adjusts his position, leaning down and lowering his face to your awaiting pussy, greeting the flesh with a prodding, lasting press from his lips.
your hips stutter in response to the thirst of his greeting, providing yourself with the friction of his lips skimming along your lips in tandem. “won!”
his breath breezes onto your pussy, visiting your clit in a faint tickle as he presses his hands further into your thighs to still your twitching, the flesh cushioning around his fingers. “did you like that babydoll? she’s so sweet, you know. sweet as you,” and he bites the visible plush of your ass with the fervor to pull a chunk out, another chuckle passing his lips as you whimper.
your opening meets his tongue first, and he drags your juices between your lips to meet your clit, circling your most reactive nerve and smearing the evidence of the pleasure you received from him onto the bundle. his eyes flutter, roll into the depths of his skull as he relishes in the taste, the lavish flavor of your pussy for the first time – god, his fantasies were cowering in shame as your honey seeped into his tastebuds. dewy, sugary, slimy. everything he could’ve ever dreamed of and more.
“fuck, you have no idea how good you taste. i can show you, though,” his lips still maintain a wispy contact with your pussy as he speaks directly into the flesh.
with every facet of the word ‘show,’ he keeps his promise. his mouth delves into your pussy with such intention, such ardor joining his movements – behaviors possessing his tongue with a spirit that only the flavor of something truly delicious could summon. his tongue nudges your glistening entrance, drenched so generously he can no longer differentiate his saliva from the slipperiness of your arousal. his tongue swirls within the creaminess surrounding him, the silkiness of your walls, stretching as far as the limitations of his muscle would allow. he slurps, sucking your wetness into his mouth and swallowing unhurriedly, the exhale that succeeds puffing blissfully against your pulsating lips. jungwon feasted, swaying his head side to side as he urged his tongue deeper, scooting closer to your warmth as he willed every thread of his mind, his body to stumble further into the hypnosis you cast upon him with the addictive taste of your honey.
his thumb pushes into your clit, and he moans as your entrance constricts around his tongue, only strengthening his need to continue exploring your slimy palace. as his thumb circles your clit, pressing into you with a flawless balance of brutal and tender, your hands leave their solace in the soft blanket to burrow into his hair, punishing the strands beyond your willful knowledge, because the boundless sensations hurtling through you seem to numb your ability to discern the fervor behind your actions.
rapidly, unrestrainedly, in hopes of freeing yourself from the tension, the pleasure, you flee towards an orgasm that will only bring you so much more. jungwon feels you, he senses your impending eruption, and the blaring cries you’re entertaining him with only induce him into making your bliss even sweeter.
his tongue slops from your entrance, though his thumb still winds your clit, and his lips further coat themselves in your honey as he speaks. “mmm, thats it. let me know how good i make you fucking feel. you gonna cum? gonna be all mine when you do,” he kisses your entrance, his words drifting through the air in a blabbered haze.
with every intention of chasing you towards your peak, jungwon’s tongue replaces his thumb on your clit, his mouth wrapping around the space to hug you in tandem, a compressing suction joining the spirals his tongue creates. the flesh of your pussy pillows around his lips, his nose meeting the skin just above your clit as he drives his face impossibly closer to you. his tongue pulses against your clit, and your pussy throbs against him in response to each pulse – a rhythmic push and pull of throbbing and jolting.
as you heave breaths of delight, whines emitting between each pump of your chest, jungwon’s fingers dive into your entrance, the sight of your ecstasy prodding him to set his pace hard, fast, mimicking the cadence of your breaths.
your walls welcome his fingers with passion, clinging, fastening to them as he wars with the snug fit you enclose him in. “fuck, babydoll… you gonna suck my cock in like this?” though he carries no doubt that you will.
the words send you tumbling, then ascending to the orgasm you’ve feared and longed for from the moment he removed your dress. the pitch and tempo of your cries increase on kindred paths, your fingers pull against his hair in a punishing drag, and your pussy swallows his fingers with faltering pulses as a sea of rapture engulfs you.
“oh… god, won,” you pant, the flesh of your thighs and torso still navigating the ripples of your orgasm.
jungwon’s fingers gloop out of your opening, and he lifts the flooded digits to his nose, inhaling with a heavy breath before closing his mouth around them. as he pulls his fingers from his mouth, the only moisture glistening against them is his saliva, all traces of your creamy arousal now sliding down his throat in a satiated gulp.
“you were beautiful, babydoll. you’re so fucking beautiful. god, you’re just spilling all over my bed, like the sexy little thing you are.”
more accurately, a flower. his flower, in his secret garden, never to be traversed by another from this day onward.
he leaves the bed to rid himself of the burden, the barrier of his own clothing, a certain irritation now coursing through him towards the fabric – it’s the only thing preventing him from plunging into the offering you’re providing him with, all sprawled out on his bed after he’s tallied the days he’s spent without claiming you as though he was in a prison cell awaiting his dear release.
he’s efficient with each item of clothing he drops, allowing them to plop to the floor with no regard for their destination. now entirely bare, he returns to his bed, crawling over your spread figure with restrained longing embedded in each of his movements.
his eyes fall into yours, observing the way you observe him. the fascination, the craving your eyes held as they trailed over his body, over his aching cock without an inkling of shame – it almost had his arms buckling in their effort of holding himself above you.
“hey, you ready?”
the sound of his voice, gentle as the blanket beneath you, softened your lust for a moment as you inhaled with a faint gasp, willing the words of reassurance from your exhausted throat. you find yourself distracted by his length, the size and heft of it, as it stood so painfully erect before you, almost reaching out to you in it’s yearning. though your gaze climbs back to his eyes, discovering a subtle amusement within them.
“yea, i’m ready. as i possibly can be.”
his cheeks tug his lips into a delicate smile, and his thumb nuzzles your cheek to lavish you in his fond admiration. “you promise? i’m gonna make you understand exactly how i’ve felt for the past six years. are you ready for that?”
“won, i promise.”
your promise carries a staggering conviction that compels a groan from jungwon’s throat, though he battles it’s full emergence. his hand coasts from your cheek, fingers feathering along your neck as he settles in a velvety grip on your thigh.
he basks in the sight beneath him, and it’s layered with a fiercer significance than merely you beneath him – you’re laid out for him, your body pleading for him, providing for him in ways his fantasies couldn’t have ever hoped to mimic. you grace him with the privilege of pleasing you, and you return the sentiments of his pure admiration – each second of this reality seems too ambitious, and he’s almost afraid he’ll wake from a dream. though the sincerity of your touch, your eyes, anchors him with the with the weight that this is real, and you’re truly here.
his eyes sail to your pussy, nearly growling in appreciation of the sight – your arousal pours out of you, flowing plentifully onto the plush of his blanket with a current akin to a waterfall. though it was your waterfall, streaming for him, all for him and the surreality was overwhelming.
“beautiful, wet fucking mess,” he whispers the praise as his hand curls around his ample girth, resting the weight of his cock between your folds as he rolls his hips, reveling in the bounds of your wetness without yet invading your entrance. his moan is gravelly, awestruck, intertwining with the breathless gasp that floats from your lips. as your hand travels along the planes of his torso muttering “fuck, won,” it almost does him in – his restraint nearly cracks, gracing him with half a mind to just ram inside of you, though his devotion to your comfort holds him back, even narrowly.
as a drop of his precum drips onto your clit, rolling down to join the waters of your arousal, he unravels.
“need you to look at me,” his voice is enshrouded in a shattering honesty, and he awaits your returned gaze, powerless until you grant him the certainty within your needy eyes. as you peer at him, the head of his cock prods your entrance, swirling in the wet, slipperiness pooling there, because of him.
“there’s my babydoll,” and now you are his babydoll, fully and truly as he pushes into you, staring into your eyes as though he could read your mind. his hips press further, and further, maintaining eye contact with you, even as they roll into the depths of your skull.
“fuck, i… goddamn, baby,” he’s entirely sheathed in you, the velvety depths of you that even his imagination couldn’t muster the euphoria of. breathless curses are all he can manage as he attempts to regain the bearings he lost with each inch he planted within your warmth. so, so deviously wet, and almost nourishing as the pleasure blossoming within you causes you to flutter around his length – he doesn’t want to mention it, for the fear that you’ll stop doing it.
he wanted, needed, longed to share the swelling flame kindling in his chest with you. he needed to share this feeling, this ache, he needed you to know it, and return it so the two of you could become engulfed in a suffocating warmth together. though now, you were.
his shoulders caged you in, imprisoning you, though you were completely safe, completely at ease in his protection. he showered you in ecstasy with each roll of his hips, digging, driving his cock into you as though he were searching for some kind of treasure – the confirmation that you belonged exclusively to him. he kisses you, sliding his lips down to the solace of your neck and reminding you in between long presses of his lips, “you’re mine, you’re mine,” without even fully withdrawing from the kiss – how could he ever remove any part of himself from you?
your volume, the unbridled bliss clawing underneath the sounds of your pleasure, only spurs his hips into moving faster, pump, pump, pumping into you as your feeble walls can only squelch in submission. the pleasure radiating from you was so loud, molten in the air, he’s almost convinced he can hear voices emitting from your pussy. either you’re that wet or he’s just insane, but both have proven to be true.
with a familiar inhale, he pulls away from your neck to train his eyes in their rightful position upon yours. “whose pussy is this?” he still pumps into you, driving through your moisture and thumping his hips against your pillowy flesh, almost in defiance of just how good you make him feel.
“y-yours…”
the whiny intonation of your voice cutting through your blaring wails draws a growl from his chest. “whose?”
“yours, won! a-all yours…” the words only narrowly manage to flee from your throat, the quaking force of his cock driving through you causing each of your sounds to stutter.
“mmm… yea, i’m the one touching you. i’m the, fuck, i’m the one taking care of you. my babydoll.”
jungwon leans up, boundless shoulders still enclosing you, and leads your thighs closer to your chest, a subtle tenderness and control laced in the gesture. ceaseless in his thrusts, his movements only gaining momentum now, he heaves, “i own this body. tell me i own this perfect body. tell me you know.”
the relentless piles of euphoria were beginning to reach an overwhelming degree, and you felt overstimulated though you hadn’t even drenched his cock in your cum yet. although for jungwon, it almost seemed as though you had – with such ease, he slid along your dewy walls, the endless cascade of your wetness continuing to smother him, devouring every ridge of his cock in a flood powerful enough to drown him.
“i-i know! body’s yours…”
your brain hardly comprehends the words before they spill out, running solely on the aspiration to bow to jungwon’s commands, too muddled by the crushing ecstasy to conjure much more. jungwon understands, though – he hears every facet of your responses, decoding each syllable, clinging to every drop of agreeance he can squeeze out of you.
all the time he’s spent in your presence, and now he can see you like this. all this time, and you’ve longed for more, too. “mhm, mine. all of this,” his thrusts drill into you heavier, faster, “belongs to me.”
jungwon kisses you once more, pouring his newfound ownership into the movements of his tongue, and his hips. the sound of your wails progressing into airy sobs alerts him of the looming arrival of your orgasm, and oh, if he’s not ecstatic about being enraptured by that sight. he ingests your sounds, your delight, threading them into his own breaths, and the grumble of the groans flowing from his chest into your mouth in return. as he withdraws his lips, a trail of spit strings between the two of you, connecting you – it almost resembles the thin, silver chain decorating jungwon’s neck, and he wishes he could wear a mold of the shared saliva instead.
“fuck… come on, babydoll. cum all over me. show me you’re all mine, i know you can do it.”
the immobilizing echoes of his thrusts, the graze of his torso along your clit – the sensations shudder through you, pushing and pushing you to untangle, to float in the electrifying pool of indescribable bliss that jungwon poured for you, only ever you. as you cum, now surging his cock with the downpour of your creamy arousal, you almost swell, your torso and thighs rippling as the pleasure courses through every imaginable crevice of you, every stream of your blood. as he observes, he’s enchanted, bound by the wordless spell you sprinkle him with – a chorus of angels should kneel in shame of being compared to the beautiful sounds you cry as you cum. your body, your untethered writhes, your twitches and throbs as your pussy hugs him in gratitude of the pleasure – he could attest to seeing, feeling, tasting heaven, thanks to you.
as your wails subside, leaving breathless whines in their absence, jungwon’s brows crinkle – his own signal of an almost palpable orgasm.
“i– fuck, oh god,” his hips jerk, spasm, push into you in his chase of final pumps. each spurt of his delicious cum fills you with his devotion, staining you with the reminder that he wasn’t in control of his actions anymore, only you. his heartbeat thrums against his eardrums, the sensation of making your tummy swell with his cum, the woman he’s craved with his every will, was almost hallucinatory. his fingers gripped, squeezed your thighs, mirroring the manner your pussy squeezed him, and his nails dug into your skin with a pressure ensuring indentations, further marks of his possession.
his chest expands, panting heavily with the labors of his exhaustion. he slips from your pussy, steady, no semblance of hurry leading his movements at all. a final gush of his cum spills onto your tummy as he flops his cock against the flesh, bumping it there once, twice, to ensure he gives you every pearly drop. his fingers scoop the liquid, sliding them past your weary, obedient lips and smearing it onto your tongue. as you swallow, jungwon’s breath escapes him with a smile.
he kisses your shoulder, skims his lips along your clavicle, then kisses your lips with adoration dripping from his own. then he settles beside you, tugging your spent body to drift closer to his own, only ceasing when you nestle into the safety of his chest. his hand sails to your thigh, lifting it with heed as his softening cock parts you again, slinking into you in search of solace. now that you knew every layer, now that he owned you, he wouldn’t allow a moment for connection to pass him again.
“don’t you get tired? fucking me that fast…” the words tumble from your compliant lips, tickling his chest with your breath.
his hand skates along the expanse of your back, treating even your blemishes with reverence. “are you kidding? i could go again right now if you wanted,” a gentle chuckle leaves him, the rumble of his chest lulling you further into the drowsiness you battled to listen to his words.
“has it been hard?”
he knew exactly what your words referred to – he was expectant of your curiosity toward the torment he endured to hide his obsession from you, though he was almost amused.
“no, it.. it hasn’t been hard at all. i would do it again, and again, if it meant i got you at the end.”
never in your life had you fallen into a mere contemplation of a feeling anywhere close to being so cherished. you almost want to erase the memories you hold of other men, wanting to reserve every slot in your brain for your jungwon. every moment you spent without experiencing the display of affection beyond love that jungwon showers you in seems so trivial now. though, that’s exactly what jungwon wants – he wants to engulf you, absorb you until your satisfaction is centered around only what he does for you.
as you sleep against him, he holds a brief consideration to snap a photo of the marks he left on you to show his friends, especially heeseung, but he quickly dismisses the thought – the thought of his friends, or anyone else for that matter, even imagining your body was an aversion itself.
the morning follows and cradles the two of you in utter contentment, the memories resurfacing with surreality for jungwon. so it wasn’t a dream, he thinks.
as your bleary eyes adjust to the haze of sunlight saturating the room, you discover a familiar bundle of lace resting proudly upon the surface of his bedside table. with fond annoyance, you shake your head, your hair skimming his chest. so that’s where they went. of course you failed to notice them yesterday, given the way he was mutilating you with the unclothed heft nestled inside of you still.
you begin to lean up, though jungwon’s hand snaps to your arm before your warmth could stray a hair’s breadth away from him. “and where do you think you’re going?”
“hm? i was just gonna shower,” his ability to sense your departure even in his sleep almost startles you, but it pleases you all the same. his head dances, swaying side to side. “not without me. you don’t do anything without me anymore.”
taglist: @theyluvjake @ki2rins @brokenengene @seungsoftly @xoseraphinaa @sunsetpossum @froggiesfrogfries @enhypenlovre @cutehoons02 @denleave1088 @sumzysworld @fancypeacepersona @yenienha @k1ttyjwon @hrts4amii @stercul1a @rikchic @hanijwi @heeseungsgf26 @zmakiuoh @woonielvr @urmomdotcom5678 @leechqnsgirl @lilyofthevalley6 @cripplinghooman @blooqz @roseeleah @hschg69 @pshnoona @luvyouloser @dokidokirst @thrifted-teeth @hoonstrology (pls don’t hate me for tagging again this is a repost hehehh)
!! keep on doing what u dooooooooo u dont hv to post this but istg just block that account n move on genuinely. it doesnt make u any less than who u r now!! remember that u have all these ppl behind u thats always looking forward so dont bother~
i blocked them baby dw im not affected by them!! i appreciate u for sending such kind words sm and all the love means so much more to me than those derisive words <333 ilysm <333
hai again i was that anon who asked if u ever plan on uploading ur fics on ao3. i was wondering bcoz ao3 allows you to read on kindle and other non-android ereaders :'( also the tags for jungwon fics there are very scarce aaaaaaah. i love ur fics and the length SO MUCH. thank u for doing all this for free. all love from kuala lumpur :))
hi again baby!! i will look into it more in the next coming weeks but im not sure <3 i’ve thought about dual posting on other platforms or fandoms but IM HONORED that u wanna read my fic on a kindle omg 🥹 TYSMMM and all the love right back to u sweet baby <3
literally just discovered you from that confessions acc (it’s givng middle school behavior btw. ik u dumbasses are probably lurking here.) but any of my opinions on dead dove type works aside nobody’s gotta be hating on you when all they have to do is block and not interact !! really hope you don’t stop writing 🫶 even as someone who personally doesn’t really read dead dove works etc. too often and has a lot of gripes and grievences w/ them from time to time (it’s a conflicting subject for me so i go back and forth a lot), i don’t think you should be hated on and bullied off a platform for it. maybe i’ll read your works, maybe i won’t, but i just hope nobody pushes you off into a shitty headspace because they don’t know how to tap a fucking block button.
hi baby welcome welcome!!! couldn’t agree w u more BSHDJDN and yes, that’s what the rest of us do when we see something we don’t particularly jive with! i won’t baby dw i already knew these topics were controversial to say the least so im not surprised nor deterred by it <33 and there’s nothing wrong w that!! the issue lies in the harassment and attempts to force conformity into someone else’s idea of what “normal” is instead of just blocking and moving on with life BJDJDJD and tysm again for ur kindness and they won’t i’m literally the girl whatever pic rn <3
hey, quick question: how do you make such a perfect theme for your blog?? and also, ignore whatever bullshit people are saying, you're one of the most genuine people I've met here and seeing your character degraded like that is disgusting and completely unjustified. I'm really sorry about it :(
── 🩹
hi baby!! ur so sweet omg it’s far from perfect BEHDJDN but i just use picsart and i pay (rip) for the pro ver teehee :3 tysm dw abt me it doesn’t get to me but it does give me a good laugh!! i just hope no one else is being affected and it makes no sense to be sending hateful words to my friends just for being my friend. tysm baby :(( being antagonistic solves nothing and never will! i know none of it is true about me so it’s okay!! don’t be sorry baby im fine i promise!!
i hope nothing anyone says discourages you or makes you feel any kind of way about yourself. i fear dead dove writers, or people who choose to engage in dark/taboo content in any way, will always be demonised. the heavens will open up the day people realise fiction has no limitations. instead of tackling real world issues, they feel big and better about themselves because they boast some moral superiority whilst sitting behind a screen and accusing people of heinous things. these allegations have serious consequences but because they’re anonymous, they think they’re invincible.
either way, we appreciate your content and the effort you put in. i also can’t wait to see what you write on your new blog and will be tuning in for whatever you come up with in the future <33
hi baby!! dw abt that bdhdjd i already knew there would be opposing forces to my writing so im not worried abt it :3
heavy on thisss fiction is Fiction do books or movies portraying dark themes need to be condemned too . omg yes the self righteousness is stinking up the room!!! virtue signaling in regards to fanfiction online is just silly, and it’s silly in general too. just leave ppl alone if they’re not hurting you and stop dwelling and being incendiary just to brew unnecessary drama. why create an uncomfortable environment full of negativity and resentment it’s so counterproductive bruh. in a life where we cannot control much of what happens to us or much of the hardships that we endure why bring any hardship onto yourself!! explore the things you like and the things that make u happy, u can literally curate this app to look the exact way u want it. u can literally remove all of the things you don’t want to see.
but tysm for such kind words 🥹 i appreciate all the support and love sm and it Effortlessly outshines all the tomatoes being thrown my way BSHDINDK ur so so sweet thank u for loving my silly fics and i hope i always deliver <3333 this is the rewarding part :3
dededos
baratheonpilled
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