#enhypen gifs

[enjays]

he's so attractive

[xlovz]

≽^•⩊•^≼

[luvsicktyun]

can I get something about sugardaddy heeseung spoiling his sugarbaby with smut please

diamond's are a girls best friend l.hs

synopsis ⤑ sugar daddy Heeseung showing his sugar baby just how much she means to him...

pairings ⤑ sugar daddy!heeseung x sugar baby!reader word count ⤑ 746

warnings ⤑ smut mdni, power imbalance, (no age gap he's just rich), corruption kink (kinda), daddy kink, pwop essentially, short drabble. enhypen masterlist & more ⤑ here.

“How’s my sweet girl..” Your legs were pushed to your chest, an otherwise uncomfortable position turned incredibly erotic. Heeseung’s hand making an indent in the plushness of your thighs as he helped to steady your trembling legs.

He was spoiling you, much like he always did. Marking his territory and taking you every which way he wanted. and you let him, because you loved the attention and craved the reward of it all.

The jewels, the money, the trips and the gifts. You loved it. The lavish lifestyle and all its rewards. You would never deny such simple pleasure, such simply thrills. Heeseung was a simple man. Give him what he wanted and you’d get anything money could buy. It helped that the sex was good, like mind numbingly good. He knew your body like the back of his hand and the pleasure coursing through your veins right now was a testament to that.

“Fuck.” You squeaked. Your legs bent to your chest as Heeseung hovered about you his hips smacking against yours harshly. “I said..” Heeseung heaved. His voice rough and gravely “How’s my sweet girl?”

“Good.” You moaned clenching around his cock, your mind numb with pleasure.

“Bad girl.” Heeseung tsked pulling all the way out of you. You whined the empty feeling almost unbearable. “You know what to call me.”

“I’m sorry daddy..” You moaned. Tears pricked at your eyes the frustration building up like a dam ready to burst. You needed him, badly. You would beg if you had to. “Please..please.”

“Please what baby?” Heeseung tilts his head at you. Taunting you, teasing you. He would have you in a puddle on the floor, all he had to do was ask. “What do you need.”

“Please..” Your voice was weak. Barely able to utter much of a sentence “Please..i need you daddy.”

“Okay baby.” Heeseung grab at your legs again spreading them apart, rubbing up and down on your thighs carefully. He lined himself at your entrance tapping the tip against your sensitive nub before sliding back in slowly. His thrusts were shallow, still toying with your need for him. You whined out his name begging for him to go harder, faster. Anything to snap the coil twisting in your belly. To quench the thirst you had for him.

His fingers curled around the pearls necklace on your neck twirling the beads in his nimble fingers. His hips snapped against your hips hard but steady. Enough to push your body slightly up the bed and cause a tremble in your legs. “You look so pretty baby..” Heeseung sighed continuing to toy with the pearls on your neck. “Look so good with my present on your neck. letting everyone know you’re mine.” His hips smacked against yours harshly causing a squeak to fall from your lips.

“Oh my god.” You mumbled reaching your hand up to his forearms for leverage. “So good..daddy..so good.”

“That’s a good girl..fuck.” Heeseung’s pace quickened. His hips now smashing into yours over and over again with quick precision. Your body felt alive, the heat in your belly bubbling readying to boil over and explode. Your wonton moans fell from your lips like a mantra overcome with the pleasure of Heeseung nestled deep inside of you.

“Does my baby deserve my cum?” Heeseung asked, reaching a hand up to cup at your supple breast. “How much do you deserve it?”

“So-so much.” You hiccup “Please daddy, i want your cum.” Your hips stuttered and rose to meet his. Your craving to cum strong as he continued his assault on your most sensitive part. You mumbled smalls whines and pleas for him to give you what you wanted, to spoil you with his spend.

“I’m close-“ He hissed raising a hand and harshly smacking your breast, a gasp left your lips. Yours legs trembled as the band deep inside you snapped sending you hurdling towards your orgasm. The white hot seer of pleasure coursed through you like an electric shock. Heeseung’s hands yanked at the pearls around your neck sending them flying across the room around you.

You didn’t care much. Too occupied with Heeseung’s hips snapping then stilling against yours as he came deep inside of you. His grunts and groans taking up space in the otherwise quiet of his bedroom.

He fought to catch his breath. Sliding out of you carefully hissing at the feeling. “You did so good.” He praised. “I think you deserve an award, no?”

taglist. (★) @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @filmnings , @dawngyu , @hyukascampfire , @saejinniestar , @notevenheretbh1 , @hwanghyunjinismybae

[cutehoons02]

Enhypen masterlist

Heeseung:

Your favorite hot nerdy boy (popular)

Forced roomates or forced to be lovers? (most popular)

See you on the podium, sweetie! (popular)

Jake:

Would you like to recreate with me these spicy scenes? (popular)

Puppy Love: The Hybrid's Heart

Kiss me, don't say no!

I fell in love with a golden retriever vampire... (popular)

Jungwon:

For me he's only a rival or something else for my heart?

Run through my heart (popular)

Strawberry with chocolate

Sunghoon:

The Ice Prince loves the Ice Queen?

You don’t have to tease the "Ice Prince" (popular)

Jay:

Mission: Don’t fall in love with the campus superstar (popular)

Sunoo: coming soon

Niki: coming soon

[jaeyuuiin]

all i ever wanted

📺ᵒᶠᶠ

was a

black grand national.

ダンス = ⤵ ⁿⁱˢʰⁱᵐᵘʳᵃ¹⁰

ˡᵉⁱꫂ

[httpzsho]

I HATE THAT I LOVE YOU | 리키

PAIRINGS. fwb!riki x reader

GENRE. angst, friends to ???

WARNINGS. swearing, kissing

SYNOPSIS. you didn't know being in a situationship was this complicated, especially when the person you're with it is your bestfriend.

SHO'S NOTE. inspired by my bae's ( @nishikio ) fic “It was never just fun” go check it out :]

YOU'VE ALWAYS WANTED A LOVE LIFE, watching the cheesy couples act all lovey-dovey during the love month was an eyesore. only becuase you didn't have one of your own.

well, you kind of had one.

your bestfriend, riki. you wouldn't really call him your lover, it's not really official. you don't even remember how it happened. you both just flirted with one another and it flowed into.. whatever this is.

he'd buy you flowers, call you “baby” or “pretty”, take you out on dates, but he'd also ignore your texts, tease you too much, and just simply be a jerk.

you're lying if you said you didn't actually like him. you did, you really do. but it pains you that you don't even know if he does too, or all of this is just some fun to him.

and it doesn't help that he constantly gives you mixed signals.

KI : hello, pretty

: morning, riki :)

KI : you free after school?

: i think so, yeah. why?

KI : go to a party with me. I'll pick you up at 7.

: see you there <3

[ KI reacted '♡' to your message.]

great, a party. you enjoyed being in some, but you really didn't want to go in a party on the night of valentines, you're positive that the room will just be filled with your friends with their partners.

and well, you can't really call him that.

you spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, putting on your silky red dress, and a plump pink lipstick. you kept your hair simply by just wearing it down. you made your way over to your living room, the sound of your velvety heels making contact with each step.

not long after your doorbell rang, you opened it as your eyes were met with rikis, his outfit simple yet still giving him the elegant look. his chrome hearts hoodie with his pants.

“good evening, gorgeous.”

you chuckled, “oh don't bait me with flattery. let's go,” he grinned as he took your hand and led you to his car as he drove you both to the party. as you expected, it was filled with lovebirds, some even kissing here and there. others are already wasted.

you both made your way to your friendgroup, they knew you and riki weren't just friends, but they were aware you weren't really something. the night went on with you and riki gulping down a few shots. you weren't much of a big drinker. you were starting to get tipsy.

you and riki were on the corner of the room, absentmindedly observing everyone dance and go out and about. you turned to riki, admiring his features. “you're s'handsome,” he chuckled at your giggly tone. “mmh you're just drunk, pretty.” he held your waist gently, just incase your legs begin to give out. “'m not, your lips are plump too.” you stared into them, the gap between you two ever so close.

fuck it. he pressed his lips onto yours, closing his eyes as he melted onto you, for the very first time. he pulled away slowly, realizing what he just did.

fuck, you've never kissed before. and he did it without your consent. this was you and him's first kiss too.

he wiped his lips, your strawberry flavored lippie still lingering within his.

as the night buried on more, he decided to drive you back home. and afterwards went home to his own apartment.

all he could think about was how wrong it was for him to kiss you. you were drunk, what if you didn't want that at all? plus, in you whole 'relationship' you've never kissed before. he doesn't even know if you truly like him or if this is just some no-strings-attached thing.

whatever it was, he knew the solution was to get rid of his feelings. he hated you, he hated your smile, he hated your laugh, he hated your voice. and most of all, he hated how he didn't even hate you one bit.

the day after that you went to school, looking for him. completely oblivious to what happened the previous night. the only recent memory that was left in your mind was you swallowing lots of alcohol.

you spotted him in his usual spot in the cafeteria, you approached him, but he simply gave you a cold look.

“soo, did you have fun last night?” he hummed. that's it. you sighed. this wasn't new. he would always be sweet & charming one moment, then the next it's like he doesn't want you at all. it annoyed you.

you thought it'd be a pattern, sweet then not, sweet then not. but to your surprise the next couple of days were silent. he didn't approach you, call you pretty, or give you any affection. you were curious. and a little hurt angry. did something happen that night? did you do something wrong?

you were going to talk to him but as you went to where you usually saw him, there he was, standing beside his locker with some girl clinging onto him. she looked at him with heart eyes. and he laughed, smiling with her.

that made your heart break into little pieces. yeah sure, he wasn't your boyfriend, but that 'moments' you have together mean nothing to him? were you really just a pawn?

you watched from afar as you clutched your jacket. you didn't even notice the tears in your eyes. why was he so important to you? worst of all, why him?

you went home that day with a heavy heart pounding in your chest. you barely got any sleep. your mind occupied with the memory of him with that girl.

it shouldn't hurt. but it did.

the next few days, the only view that clouded the school was him and that stupid girl. you see him doing the things he did to you, accompany her, buy her snacks from the caféteria, and just simply be there. each moment hurt more than the last.

the last class of the day finally ended. you went out the classroom, only to be met with the sight of him and the girl, again. you were going to tear your eyes off them, but was distracted when she kisses him.

she kissed him. his first kiss.

your heart shattered, once again. he never did that with you.

your tears formed quickly, you rub your eyes and ran. not knowing riki saw you and followed quickly.

you stormed off the school, your brain mindlessly fogged with that scene. why? why was it so easy for him to replace you?

“___!” you heard him call out, his hand grabbed your fist and turned you around. “please, hear me out-” he pleaded, you yelled, “what? that you suddenly went distant then found a girl better than me?” you wiped your tears, not wanting your eyes to meet his.

“it's not like that!” “then what?” you pulled your wrist out of his grasp, “was I that replaceable to you? I thought we had something- but.. I guess not! you even had your first kiss with he—” he cut you off, “she's not my first kiss, you are!” your eyes widened, in complete disbelief. “h-huh?..” you stared at him.

“look, the night at the party—you were drunk, and you caressed my lips and I wasn't thinking so I just kissed you, and I really fucking wanted to do that for a long time, but I don't even know if you liked me seriously or not, and I swear nothing else happened, but I felt really REALLY bad because I just kissed you even if I didn't know if you want to- and I was so in pain because I like you a lot, and I wanted it to go away, so I pretended to like this girl who liked me and she sucks, and then she suddenly kissed me and I wanted nothing but to reel your lips again, because I hate you so much and I hate that I love you, but really I don't!”

he flipped his hair, sighing. “and I completely understand if you don't feel the sa—” you cut him off, pulling him by his collar and pressing your lips against his. for a moment, he freezes. but he soon melts into your lips, kissing you back, just like the first time.

“I.. that was..” he panted, breathless.

“I love you, pretty. I mean it.” you hugged him. and his hands wrapped around your waist, he kissed your forehead. you giggled. “I love you too,”

“you promise?”

“pinky promise.”

⩩ ( @nishikio , @stvrriki ) ⊹ ࣪ ˖

© work of httpzsho | sho

[amoressb]

───── HIS FIRST AND LAST 西村 力 N. RK

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ hes not what they say he is, he just needed to find the one…and it’s you ｡｡ classmate!riki x reader .

FLUFF & wc. 1100 + ; kissing, skinship ｡｡

───── ARCHiVE

nishimura riki didn’t ask for the reputation he had. it followed him, clung to him like an old cologne he couldn’t wash off, no matter how much he wanted to.

they called him a playboy, a heartbreaker, a guy who got bored too easily. sure maybe the last one was true. he’d been with girls before—not many, but enough for people to talk. enough for them to think he was the type who collected hearts just to throw them away, but riki had never cheated. never lied. never promised something he didn’t mean. he just…never felt anything. not the way he was supposed to.

admiration? yes. interest? sure. but love? not once.

it wasn’t like he was trying to hurt anyone. he simply didn’t care enough to keep trying. after a few days..maybe a week, he’d wake up and realize the excitement was gone and that was it. maybe something was wrong with him. maybe he was broken, or maybe he just wasn’t capable of falling in love.

at least, that’s what he thought.

until y/n.

the first time riki saw you, it was like something in him shifted. it happened on a regular tuesday, just before lunch. he was walking with his friends, half listening to their conversation about weekend plans, when his eyes landed on you. you were standing by the vending machine, alone, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you decided between a snack or a drink.

you weren’t giggling with your friends like other girls usually were. you weren’t looking around for attention or checking your reflection in your phone screen. you were just…existing and for some reason, riki couldn’t look away.

“dude, are you even listening?” once of his friends nudged him. he barely heard them. “she’s not your type,” another friend said when they followed his gaze. riki blinked, snapping out of his trance. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“she’s quiet. keeps to herself. probably wouldn’t even give you the time of day.”

that’s should’ve been enough to make him walk away…but it wasn’t. because for the first time, riki actually wanted to try. but you weren’t easy to impress. you had heard the whispers about him, the stories that spread through the halls like wildfire and you weren’t interested.

“i know your game, nishimura,” you told him flatly when he first tried talking to you. riki stared at you, baffled. “what game?” you crossed your arms, unimpressed. “you lose interest fast. you’re here now, but in a week? you’ll move on.”

he opened his mouth to argue but…you weren’t wrong. that’s was how it had always been but not this time because you weren’t just another girl. you were it.

so, riki did something he had never done before.

he tried.

not the effortless, half interested kind of trying. the real kind.

he started showing up where you were—never in an annoying way, but enough for you to notice. he sat across from you in the library, sketching in his notebook while you read. but he wasn’t just sketching random shapes or designs—he was sketching you. the way your hair fell over your shoulders when you were focused. the way you tucked a strand behind your ear absentmindedly. the way your lips parted slightly when you were lost in thought.

he never showed you, not yet. he wasn’t sure if you’d even care. but sketching you felt like the closest he could get to capturing the way he saw you—beautiful in a way no one else seemed to notice.

he left your favorite snacks on your desk in the morning, never saying they were from him, but you always knew. when it rained, he showed up outside with an extra umbrella.

when you looked stressed, he slid you a small folded note:

smile. you’re too pretty to be frowning all the time.

you never said anything about them, but you never threw them away, either.

little by little, you started letting him in. not completely—you were still wary, still guarded. but sometimes, when you thought he wasn’t looking, you smiled, and that was enough to keep him going.

one evening, as you walked home together—a routine you two had silently fallen into—you finally spoke.

“i don’t get you.” riki looked at you, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “what’s there to get?” you kicked a pebble down the sidewalk. “you’re not supposed to be like this.”

“like what?”

“…real.”

his footsteps slowed. you stopped too, facing him, your dark eyes searching his. “i am real,” he said softly. “i don’t know why it took me this long, but y/n… it’s you. it’s only ever been you.”

you swallowed hard, looking away. “i’m scared.” he nodded, understanding. “i know.”

“i don’t want to be just another girl to you.”

“you’re not.”

you hesitated, shifting on your feet. “how do i know?”

this time, riki didn’t rush to answer. he reached out slowly, brushing his fingers against yours. it was the lightest touch, barely there, but you flinched slightly—like you weren’t used to being touched so gently, so deliberately.

“because i’ve never done this before,” he murmured. you looked at him, unsure. “done what?”

“chased after someone.” his fingers curled around yours, holding them between both of his hands. “waited. tried.” he let out a soft chuckle. “i don’t even know what i’m doing y/n, but all i know is that it has to be with you.”

you let out a shaky breath, and riki could feel the hesitation in your body, the way you weren’t sure whether to pull away or hold on.

so he gave you time. he let you decide and after a long moment, you squeezed his hands back. that was all the permission he needed.

he took a step closer, letting go of your hands only to cup your face gently, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. you were looking up at him, wide eyed, lips slightly parted in uncertainty.

“you still scared?” he asked softly. you hesitated, then nodded. “a little.”

his heart ached at that—at how guarded you still were, at how much you had to convince yourself to trust him, but that was okay. because riki had never been patient for anyone before.

but for you? he had all the time in the world.

slowly, he leaned down, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. and when your lips finally met, it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t just some fleeting moment. it was soft..careful.

like he was telling you, without words, that this time was different. that you were different. when you kissed him back, your fingers clutching the front of his hoodie like you were scared he’d disappear, he knew. you finally believed him. riki had never loved anyone before, but you?

you were the first.

and you would be the last.

⋆｡°✩ @miukidoll @liwinly @sugarikiz @hyukabean

this was a request hope i delivered and you enjoyed !!

[emeraldbabygirl]

WIFE ME JAKE

JAKE for esquire

[arxiwon]

Rhythm & Ruin

Pairing: Lee Heeseung x Reader

Genre: Smut, Teasing, Forbidden Desire, Dance Club AU, Dark Themes (Drugged Arousal), Rough & Desperate, Car Sex, Possessiveness.

You knew you were in trouble the second you saw him dance.

Lee Heeseung was effortless—every roll of his hips, every sharp pop of his shoulders, every fluid movement—it was like he owned the music, like the beats bent to his will.

And you? You were the pathetic new student, sitting at the edge of the dance studio, thighs clenched, pulse racing, trying so hard not to let your thoughts show on your face.

You weren’t even supposed to be here. You had only peeked inside the studio out of curiosity. But then Heeseung had stepped forward, his body moving with a sinfully slow rhythm, sweat dripping down his temple, jaw clenched in concentration—and you were fucked.

Your mind betrayed you instantly.

How would it feel to have those hands gripping your hips instead of the air? What would it be like to have his thigh between your legs, grinding against you with that same, controlled precision? Would he whisper in your ear, teasing you? Or would he be rough, commanding?

You squeezed your legs together, heat pooling in your stomach.

And that’s when he noticed you.

Heeseung’s eyes flickered to yours through the mirror. Dark. Knowing. Amused.

Shit.

You looked away, pretending to check your phone, but it was too late.

When the music stopped, Heeseung walked straight toward you, towel slung around his neck. His white shirt was damp with sweat, clinging to his toned chest. His black joggers hung low on his hips, revealing just a hint of the V-line you had definitely not been staring at.

“Didn’t know we had a new dancer.” His voice was smooth, teasing.

You swallowed hard. “I—I’m not. I was just—”

“Watching?” He smirked, leaning down slightly, his face inches from yours. “You looked real focused. Something on your mind?”

Your breath caught.

He knew.

Your cheeks burned. “I was just—”

His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Thinking about how I’d move on you instead of the floor?”

Your entire body went still.

Heeseung’s smirk deepened at your reaction. “Yeah?” His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “I saw you squeezing your thighs, baby. Couldn’t help yourself?”

Your heart stopped.

You had two options—deny it, or let him ruin you.

You made your choice.

“…And what if I couldn’t?”

Heeseung’s eyes darkened. “Then I’d say we need to do something about that.”

The studio door clicked shut behind you.

Before you could even process it, Heeseung had you pinned against the mirror, his body pressing against yours, radiating heat.

“I should punish you,” he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. “Sitting there with those dirty little thoughts while I was trying to focus.”

Your breath hitched as his hands ghosted over your waist.

“I—”

“You what?” He slid his thigh between your legs, pressing just enough to make you gasp. “You want me to take care of that ache for you?”

You whimpered. “Please.”

Heeseung chuckled. “Already begging?”

His lips brushed against your neck—soft, teasing, before he bit down, making you jolt.

“Keep quiet, baby,” he warned. “Unless you want someone walking in and seeing you like this.”

The idea sent a shiver down your spine.

His hands moved lower, fingers slipping past the waistband of your leggings.

“Fuck,” he muttered, feeling how wet you were already. “All this for me?”

You whimpered as his fingers slid against your folds, teasing, not giving you enough.

“Heeseung, please—”

He grinned. “That desperate?”

You nodded frantically.

He pressed a single finger inside you, slow, deliberate.

Your walls clenched around him instantly.

“Shit,” he hissed. “So fucking tight.”

He curled his finger, hitting that perfect spot, making you moan into his shoulder.

“Shhh,” he reminded you, his other hand covering your mouth. “Quiet, baby.”

He added another finger, pumping into you at a maddening pace. Your hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more.

“You gonna come for me already?” Heeseung taunted, his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit.

You could barely breathe, your legs trembling.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispered. “Come all over my fingers.”

His words sent you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed into you, leaving you shaking, gasping against his shoulder.

Heeseung pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his lips.

Then, while looking straight into your eyes, he sucked them clean.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

You whimpered. “Heeseung—”

His lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath, your sanity.

And you knew—this was only the beginning.

The problem with falling for someone like Lee Heeseung was that you thought you were different.

You weren’t.

It only took one week to prove it.

After that night in the dance studio, where he had you gasping against the mirror, where he had whispered filth into your ear and kissed you like he owned you—you thought maybe you were more than just another girl to him.

Until you walked into the studio a few days later and saw him with her.

Some girl—curled up in his lap, arms around his neck, laughing into his ear. His hands gripping her waist, his lips ghosting over hers.

And then he kissed her.

Right there. In the same place where he had ruined you.

Your stomach twisted painfully.

But you weren’t going to be that girl.

You weren’t going to cry, or scream, or storm over and demand an explanation.

Instead, you did the worst possible thing you could have done to someone like Heeseung.

You ignored him.

For an entire week.

No stolen glances. No stopping by the dance studio. No secret, needy touches.

You acted like he didn’t exist.

And Heeseung?

He hated it.

At first, he didn’t care. He figured you were pissed, maybe playing hard to get. But when days passed, and you didn’t so much as look at him—when he realized you weren’t going to chase him like every other girl—he started to unravel.

He had gotten used to the way your eyes followed him across the room. The way you bit your lip when he danced. The way your body melted under his touch.

And now?

Nothing.

Not even a glance.

Heeseung had never felt desperate before, but fuck—he was starving for your attention.

It all came to a breaking point when he caught you laughing at something another guy said. Some random dude from the club, standing way too fucking close to you, making you smile.

Heeseung saw red.

The second you stepped outside the studio that night, he was there.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

His voice was low, rough with frustration.

You turned, barely sparing him a glance. “Busy.”

Heeseung scoffed. “Too busy to even look at me?”

You crossed your arms. “I don’t know, Heeseung. Why don’t you ask the girl you had in your lap last week?”

His jaw ticked.

“So that’s what this is about?” He stepped closer, his scent wrapping around you, his body heat suffocating. “You’re jealous?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Jealous? No. Just realizing I was stupid to think I was anything special to you.”

His eyes darkened. “You are.”

You shook your head. “I was just another girl for you to play with, right? Just like her.”

Heeseung snapped.

His hand grabbed your wrist, yanking you against him, his breath hot against your ear.

“She wasn’t you.” His voice was sharp, possessive. “She could never be you.”

You tried to shove him away. “Oh, fuck off, Heeseung—”

His grip tightened. “No. You don’t get to ignore me. You don’t get to act like what we had meant nothing.”

You glared up at him. “It was nothing. Just a mistake.”

His eyes flickered with something dark.

“A mistake?” His lips ghosted over yours. “Then why are you still here?”

You hated him.

Hated how easily he could make you weak.

But you loved how he made you feel.

His thigh pressed between your legs, exactly the way he had done that night, pinning you against the studio wall. “Tell me you didn’t miss me,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down your waist. “Tell me you didn’t think about me when you touched yourself.”

Your breath hitched.

Heeseung smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

His hand slipped under your shirt, sliding up your stomach.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

His lips brushed against yours. “No, you don’t.”

And then he kissed you.

Hard. Desperate. Claiming.

You gasped against his lips, and he took full advantage, tongue sliding into your mouth, swallowing your whimper.

His hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up against the wall, his hips grinding into yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he growled.

You didn’t.

Instead, you tugged at his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.

His hand slipped past your waistband.

“You think I could ever want anyone else?” His fingers dipped lower. “You think anyone else could make me feel like this?”

His fingers found your clit, circling it just right, making your head fall back against the wall.

“Tell me I’m the only one who can touch you like this.” His voice was rough, his breathing ragged.

You whimpered.

He pressed harder. “Say it, baby.”

You broke. “You’re the only one.”

Heeseung groaned, his lips trailing down your neck.

And just like that—he had you again.

Dating Lee Heeseung was nothing like you expected.

You thought he’d be cocky, that he’d string you along, that you’d be one of many. But after that night—after he had claimed you, after he had whispered that you were the only one—he never looked at another girl again.

Heeseung was obsessed with you.

And you?

You were drowning in him.

Everyone in the dance club knew you were his. The stares followed you every time you walked in—some curious, some jealous. But you didn’t care. Because every time Heeseung pulled you into his lap, kissed you like he needed you to breathe, whispered in your ear about how badly he wanted you—it was worth it.

But not everyone was happy about it.

You didn’t notice at first.

The way some of the other dancers whispered when you passed. The way one of the guys—Jihwan—always seemed to be watching you. The way he lingered too close.

And then, one night, after an exhausting practice, he approached you with a drink.

“Here,” Jihwan said, offering you a water bottle. “You looked tired. Thought you could use this.”

You hesitated.

But he smiled. “It’s just water.”

You took it.

And that was your first mistake.

It started slow.

A warmth in your stomach. A flush creeping up your neck.

Then heat.

Your skin tingled, your breath grew shallow, your entire body felt like it was on fire.

Your thighs clenched hard.

Something was wrong.

Your hands trembled as you pulled out your phone, texting the only person who could help you.

[9:42 PM] You: Heeseung… something’s wrong. Please come.

He responded immediately.

[9:42 PM] Heeseung: What? Where are you?

[9:43 PM] You: Studio. Hurry.

Your head was spinning. Your body ached.

You felt hot.

Your pulse pounded between your legs, a need so intense it was almost painful.

What the fuck was happening?

And then it hit you.

Something was in that drink.

Panic surged through you.

You stumbled toward the door, your legs weak, heat pooling in your stomach so deep you almost moaned out loud.

No.

Not here. Not in front of them.

You shoved the door open, rushing outside. The cold air hit you like a slap, but it wasn’t enough.

You needed him.

Where the fuck was Heeseung?

Your phone vibrated.

[9:47 PM] Heeseung: I’m almost there. Stay put.

You whimpered, your body betraying you. Your nipples ached, your skin was too sensitive, your core throbbed so badly you felt like you were going insane.

And then—

A hand grabbed your wrist.

Jihwan.

“You okay?” His voice was smooth, fake concern dripping from it. “You look… flushed.”

You jerked away. “What did you do?”

His lips curled. “Just gave you something to help you relax.”

Your stomach twisted.

A sex drug.

A pill designed to make you insatiable.

Rage battled with desperation inside you.

You had to get away.

“Don’t touch me,” you spat, stumbling backward.

Jihwan just smirked. “You sure? You look like you need something.”

Your vision blurred.

Your legs felt weak.

You could barely breathe.

And then—

“Get your fucking hands off her.”

Heeseung’s voice was low. Dangerous.

Jihwan barely had time to react before Heeseung’s fist collided with his jaw.

A sickening crack.

Jihwan stumbled back, blood dripping from his lip. “Fucking hell—”

Heeseung grabbed him by the collar, shoving him against the wall.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Heeseung growled, his voice shaking with rage.

Jihwan smirked, spitting out blood. “Nothing she didn’t want.”

That was a mistake.

Heeseung punched him again.

Then again.

Then again.

You barely heard it.

You were shaking. Burning. Falling apart.

Your knees buckled.

And suddenly—Heeseung was there, catching you.

His hands were warm.

His scent—comforting.

“Baby,” he whispered, his voice panicked. “Shit. I got you.”

You clung to him, whimpering. “Hee…”

His eyes darkened. “Fuck.”

He knew.

He knew exactly what was happening.

“We need to get you home,” he muttered, lifting you into his arms. “Now.”

Your body pressed against his, heat pulsing through you at the contact.

You needed him.

Desperately.

But Heeseung—he was furious.

And Jihwan?

He was fucking dead.

The car ride home was a nightmare.

Every shift of your body, every brush of Heeseung’s hands, every second of his scent surrounding you—it only made it worse.

Your body ached.

Your skin felt too hot.

Your thighs clenched, desperate for any kind of friction, but it wasn’t enough.

Nothing was enough.

And Heeseung knew it.

His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched.

He was holding back.

Fighting the way your body squirmed beside him, the way your little whimpers filled the car, the way your hand kept sneaking to his thigh.

“Baby,” he gritted out, voice strained. “You need to stop touching me.”

You couldn’t.

Your fingers curled over his thigh, squeezing. “I can’t—”

His foot slammed the brakes.

The car skidded to a stop on the empty road.

You gasped, but before you could react—

Heeseung was on you.

His hands were rough, yanking you across the seat, dragging you onto his lap. His eyes were wild, dark with something dangerous.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he growled.

Your body shuddered against his.

Your fingers gripped his shirt, your hips pressing down, desperate—so desperate.

“Please,” you whined. “I need you, Hee—”

His hands slammed onto your hips, holding you still.

“I know, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I know you do.”

His hands traced up your thighs, his touch searing.

Your head fell back, a whimper spilling from your lips.

He groaned.

“You’re so fucking needy,” he muttered. “That asshole really did a number on you.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders. “Please,” you begged. “I need you now.”

Heeseung inhaled sharply.

Then—he flipped you.

Your back hit the seat, your legs spread over his lap, his body looming over yours.

“You want me that bad?” His voice was a taunt, but his hands were shaking. “You’re that desperate?”

You nodded frantically. “Yes—yes, please—”

His lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was rough, messy, his teeth dragging over your lips, his tongue claiming your mouth.

His hands tore at your clothes, shoving your shirt up, exposing heated skin.

His lips trailed down—sucking, biting, leaving bruises.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his breath ragged. “You’re burning up.”

His fingers trailed down your stomach.

Lower.

Lower.

You bucked against him. “Hee—”

He smirked. “So fucking wet.”

His fingers slid into you with ease.

Your back arched.

A strangled moan ripped from your throat.

Heeseung groaned, his free hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Fucking ruined already.”

Your legs shook.

The drug was still in your system, making everything feel too good, too intense.

And Heeseung?

He was relentless.

His fingers moved faster, curling just right, his thumb circling your clit—just to watch you fall apart.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “Let me hear you.”

You screamed.

Your orgasm slammed into you so hard your vision blurred, your body convulsing.

But it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t him.

Your hands grabbed at his belt, yanking. “More—please, Heeseung, I need more—”

His breath hitched.

Then—he lost it.

His belt clanked open, his zipper undone, and then—

He was inside you.

A broken moan spilled from your lips, your walls stretching, accommodating every inch of him.

Heeseung groaned.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, your nails raking down his back.

“Move,” you pleaded.

He snapped.

His hips slammed into you, his pace brutal, fucking you into the seat with no hesitation.

Your body jolted with every thrust, your mind foggy, lost in nothing but him.

Heeseung grunted, his lips dragging down your neck.

“You’re mine,” he growled. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to see you like this.”

His fingers dug into your skin, his hips relentless.

“You need me?” His voice was rough. “You crave me?”

You sobbed. “Yes—yes, I need you—”

He smirked. “Good.”

His hand wrapped around your throat.

And then—he ruined you.

The high was still burning through your body when Heeseung finally pulled you into his arms, cradling you close, pressing hot kisses to your temple. His breath was ragged, his fingers shaking as they traced over your damp skin.

“Baby,” he murmured, voice softer now, “you okay?”

You blinked up at him, still dazed. The drug had made everything too much—too intense, too overwhelming. But in this moment, with Heeseung’s arms wrapped around you, you felt safe.

You nodded weakly, pressing your face into his chest. “I—I'm fine,” you whispered. “Just… need you.”

His grip tightened. “I got you, baby.”

With careful hands, Heeseung helped you back into your clothes, smoothing your hair, kissing your forehead between every movement. Then, without another word, he scooped you up and carried you to the passenger seat, buckling you in.

“Let’s get you home.”

The car ride was silent except for the sound of Heeseung’s steady breathing. His free hand never left your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles, grounding you.

When you got to your apartment, he carried you inside, straight to the bathroom.

“I’m gonna run you a bath,” he murmured, setting you down gently on the counter.

You watched through heavy lids as he turned on the water, testing the temperature before adding bubbles. The sight made your chest ache.

Heeseung—the campus playboy, the guy who never took anything seriously—was being so gentle with you.

When he turned back, his eyes darkened at the way you were looking at him.

“What is it?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Your throat felt tight. “You’re really staying?”

Heeseung let out a short, breathless laugh. “Of course I’m staying. You think I’d let you be alone after tonight?”

Something warm spread through your chest.

You let him undress you, guiding you into the warm water. Heeseung sat on the edge of the tub, running a cloth over your skin, massaging your sore muscles. He pressed kisses to your shoulders, whispering sweet things against your damp skin.

“Sleep,” he murmured when you finally slumped against him. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And for the first time that night, the heat inside you cooled.

The next day, Heeseung’s mood was dangerous.

He wasn’t just mad—he was seething.

When you woke up, still groggy from the previous night, you found him sitting at the edge of the bed, jaw clenched, scrolling through his phone.

The moment he noticed you stirring, his expression softened.

“Morning, baby.”

You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

His grip on his phone tightened. “Jihwan.”

Your stomach twisted.

“What about him?”

Heeseung exhaled sharply, like he was trying to hold himself together. “I called the dance club director. Told them everything.”

Your eyes widened. “You—”

“That bastard’s gone,” Heeseung said firmly. “He won’t be stepping foot in the club again. And if I ever see him near you…” He trailed off, his fingers twitching like he wanted to hit something.

Your chest tightened.

You reached out, tangling your fingers with his. “Heeseung.”

His gaze snapped to you, eyes still burning with anger, but the moment he saw your expression, he exhaled.

“I’m okay,” you murmured. “Because of you.”

His jaw clenched. “Still. No one touches what’s mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a slow, lingering kiss. His hand immediately tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you were breathless.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with something raw.

“I mean it,” he whispered against your lips. “You’re mine.”

And this time, you didn’t argue.

[6atals]

[제이크] 𝜗𝜚 ┈ your pussy so good, jake might throw up a set . . .

𝓌𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵𝘆!𝒿𝗮𝗸𝗲 ˖ 𝒻𝗲𝗺!𝓇𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 g. smut , nsfw , manhandling , skinship , established relationship , daddy kink , oral (f. rec) pwnp. 622WC ─── ℛ𝙀𝘼𝘿𝒾𝗡𝗚 𝓈𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗙 (coming soon ??) . 𓋜 . intimacy , pussy drunk ⟡ ⋆ not requested! not proofread! — reblog to become apart of the taglist ❤︎︎ my inbox is always open!

ℳ𝗶𝗿𝗮’𝘀 𝓃𝗼𝘁𝗲! 🗯️ . . . based off that one bruno mars song, i can’t get it out my head..

fat, juicy, and wet.

were the only three words jake needed to describe your tasty cunt. maybe, his stress reliever, his motivation to get through the day, nope. fat, juicy, and wet.

you knew jake was a madman when you two got into the bedroom, but something about today was different with jake.

“mm.. jakey..” you gripped onto his hair and looked down at him.

his tongue latched onto the nub of your clit hungrily, one hand keeping you pinned to the couch and the other one going higher to massage your breasts. you moaned out at the feeling of so many different feelings at a time. “goddamn mama.. this pussy is gonna be the death of me. could eat this pussy all day.” he moaned into your clit, closing his eyes as he embraced your cunt as if it were some prize he had worked for all week.

your legs clamped around his head, trying to get more friction. by now, he’s memorized all the parts that make you squirm whenever his tongue brushes across it. “had such a bad fucking— day today. fuck.. stupid fucking workers don’t know what they’re doing.. mmngh..missed this sweet pussy angel..”

jake groans into your sopping cunt about how, "can’t believe i had to wait all day for this little pussy.. fuck," pausing, simply to pull back and shoot at messy dime of spit right in between your folds. “was thinking about this fucking pussy all day. my fucking pussy.”

“daddy—please..”

the name falls right onto your lips, “daddy’s here baby. tell daddy what you want and he’ll give you it. you know daddy doesn’t like when you don’t speak.” he groaned softly into your sensitive bud, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

his fingers dig into the plush of your thighs before sticking his tongue inside you. your back arches off the bed as you felt his tongue swirl specifically around your clit. “come on. answer me baby or i’ll stop.”

“o-oh fu—ck! wan you to eat me out until i.. cry..” you moaned out, your hands frantically trying to find something to grab as jake continued the abuse on your cunny.

"feels so fuckin- fuck, need more," you squeal as you deepen the arch of your back to get closer, your head naturally falling backwards. you were a blabbering mess.

the second you peer down and meet his gaze, he slips an obnoxiously long finger inside you, curling upwards to instantly find your sweet spot. over and over and over again, just to get that satisfying feeling of hearing you moan. all because of him. his lips never detaching from where he always insists they always belong. “such a greedy fucking girl. need more baby? need more of daddy’s tongue? beg for it, angel.”

“pl—ease daddy.. gonna.. gonna be so good for you.” you begged. the tip of his tongue hits that mushy spot that has your toes curling immediately— which doesn’t go unnoticed by jake, gaining a low chuckle from him.

he’s putting his lips back onto your swollen clit, slushing and slobbering his tongue against it as he pistons his digit deep inside you. “ff-fuuuckkk.. right there jakey! m’gonna- ah!”

“cum for me angel. you deserve it.” you moaned out before releasing all over his face. his chin covered in all your juices, his face remained with a proud “i did that” look as he pulled his digits out of you.

you sighed, closing your eyes shut. such an eager boy.

do not copy, repost or steal my works.

©6atals est. 2025

[nfly5]

(250208) kungyaz weverse live

[shuenkio]

𝑨 𝑺𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒊𝒆 | Ksn. 엔.하.이.픈 🌷

Paring: Sunoo X M!reader

Synopsis: Always giving the softie vibe, your friend saying your lover can't be the top. Or can he prove them wrong?

Genre: Fluff + a lil suggestive. Cw: Small curse.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

"Dude he can't be the top, you should be the one because look at your boyfriend he's such a softie—" one of your friends spoke, giving relationship advice like they've gone through 10 breakups. Sigh leave your nostril, in a daze of confusion, whether you take their words seriously or not.

"Height didn't matter alright The same goes with age, it's all about BOOM who said that" they all snorted together, filled the room with the sound of their voices. Ah this is so stressful, it always happens whenever you gather for a hangout and there's that person who's gonna come up with this topic, such a pain in the ass.

Making your way back home, thought lingering your mind as you imagine the presence of Sunoo. Your friend wouldn't lie tho, he's such a cotton candy, that'd make you think he's pink when he pops up in your head, so feminine yet firmly strong. He was so sweet that even ants couldn't bring themselves to bite him, however would it be worth a try if you give it a shot ? Being dominant for once? Just like they said, height and age didn't matter so why not? Even though you were his weak, smaller little boyfriend damn. The thought only to fuel and burn away the thought of being on top of him. But with a quote say if you didn't give it a shot you'll never know and you'll never will.

And with that, you decide to make up your mind.

"I'm home" Your voice is alluring through the quiet apartment, speaking your presence to be home while taking off your shoes at the door way, shoulders are heavy from all the pressure of the day. With Your voice hangs in the air, barely disturbing the stillness.

No answer. Just silence, waiting.

Where is he at ? Did he come home yet?

Those were your thoughts, as you dragged your feet toward the kitchen to dehydrate your throat but so suddenly at the same time, you were surprised to see Sunoo were sitting there at the counter, looking upset somehow with his arms folding his build chest. If he had already been here, why wouldn't he answer?

"Lord have mercy, Babe what are you doing here and what's wrong with you? You seem under the cloud, something happens?" Calming down your nervousness, you relax when Sunoo takes deep breaths, as his open his mouth to explain.

"I'm sorry, okay? But I overheard your conversation with your friends when I was having dinner with my boss there—" Sunoo hesitates, his voice dropping as his eyes flicker away before meeting yours again. "Well... Do you really think I'm not the boyfriend you wanted just because I’m not the ‘top vibe’?"

He pouts, his plump lips jutting out as he rests his face on the table, cheeks squished against the wood. The sight is almost endearing and adorable, but a shiver runs down your spine. He knows. He heard.

You swallow, desperately searching for the right words to soothe him, to erase the doubt from his eyes.

"Sunoo, no... it’s not like that," you manage. "I’d never thought that. Not just because you're... soft. But I can't deny that I do have the thought of being the top for once" you claim, hands shaking after browsing for the right word to say. You were afraid to make him upset once again, so gotta be more careful.

Sunoo doesn’t look convinced, his lips still curved into a pout not until.

"aigoo— babe you know I love you from the moon to the back, I love every part of you and I don't give a damn with anyone's opinions about my boyfriend, just believe me"

His shoulders relax, just a little. His eyes flick up, searching your face, looking for any hint of a lie. But he finds none. Slowly, his expression softens, the tension melting away as he finally lets your words in, lets himself believe them.

"Now that's my good boy I love you so much huhu" out of the blue, He gets up and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you without a word. His face presses onto the top of your head, his lips in that familiar pout that makes him look like he’s on the verge of tears—but you know it’s just his habit.

"such a crybaby, don't worry you'll be my forever top and I'll be your bottom lol" you chuckle with a soft tone, half joking and believing. Kinda cringe and dumb to admit something like this but for your boyfriend? No problem.

The pout fades, replaced by something familiar—something dangerous. A playful glint dances in his eyes, the corners of his lips curling up as his teasing returns.

“Oh?” he hums, mischief flickering across his face.

“So, you really can’t resist me, huh?”

Whatever sadness was there a moment ago is long gone, replaced by that wicked playfulness, you know all too damn well. This is your boyfriend that is both a softie and a clown.

And just like that, Sunoo’s back—ready to tease you into oblivion.

"I gotta prove to you that I can always be on top of you— let's go" suddenly he grabs onto your hands, as he leads you to the bedroom. This is new, with a click in your brain to his intentions, Not a single memory piece flashback that Sunoo can be this firmly dominant sexually in his state right now. You couldn't fight back, your legs were weak enough by his new side show up.

"Babe uh what are you going to do with me.."

"Nothing, I'll prove it to you how much my fat dick can do— hmm let me think let's try until dawn" He says it so casually, his head tilted in a thinking pose, fingers tapping his chin. "They say you're the one who impregnates me but meh I'm in charge of doing that"

"let's make baby— M/n" sly smile.

What the hell is this softie saying?

A/n: I've been missing because of my exam so here I am, with one of anon request 😜 my writing skill got downgrade don't mind me.

Funtalk: (suggestive) How big do you think he was?

[orangeseouls]

SUNSHINE☀️

[flowerwinds]

Jungwon wiping other’s tears 😢

When will you wipe my tears

[minoulapin]

Chapter One: The Shape of Uncertainty - Between Giving & Taking - Y. JW

Pairing: Demon!Jungwon × Angel!Reader

Genre: Forbidden Love, Fantasy, Romance, Mystery

Wc: 2.7k

Synopsis: A love unspoken, a fate unwritten, An angel and demon, forever forbidden. Bound by the laws of heaven and hell, A story of longing they dare not tell. At the Academy of the Occult, angels and demons coexist under a fragile truce. But when a celestial heir is assassinated, war looms, secrets unravel, and forbidden desires ignite. In a world where their love is a crime, will they defy fate or be consumed by it?

A/N: Coucou! So here’s the first chapter!! I don’t have much to say, it’s mostly to set the stage and get a better feel of their world. Also, since this is my story and I get to decide everything, there was absolutely no way I wasn’t making angel Jake blond… like, imagine Dark Blood era Jake. Okay more specifically, "full" concept Dark Blood Jake. Tbh, I think I imagined all of them looking like their Dark Blood era selves. Hope you enjoy & let me know what you think! -Joe

Tag list: open!! 🏷️ @whateveridontcaresheesh @iifrui @stormy1408 @indigoez @riribelle (Comment to be added)

PROLOGUE | MASTERLIST I NEXT CHAPTER

The Academy of the Occult was never truly neutral. It was a delicate lie, built on the pretense of cooperation, its foundations woven from uneasy alliances and fragile truces. For centuries, it had served as the only place where celestial and infernal forces could coexist without immediate bloodshed—a controlled experiment in diplomacy, designed not for peace, but for containment.

Angels trained to guard the heavens, demons honed their craft to command the underworld. Knowledge was exchanged, but never without a cost. Trust was nothing more than a well-rehearsed illusion, a performance of civility where both sides sharpened their blades beneath the table.

Yet, even an illusion had its limits. And now, it was fracturing.

The assassination of the Celestial Heir had been a spark in a room already drenched in oil. No one knew the assassin's name, no one could trace the hand that had done it—but it didn't matter. The fragile balance had shattered. Suspicion turned into paranoia, paranoia into whispered accusations, and now, every glance between celestial and infernal students carried the weight of an unspoken war.

There were no formal declarations. Not yet.

But war was no longer a question of if.

It was a question of when.

Twilight bled through the Academy's high-arched windows, staining the stone halls in fading gold before it succumbed to shadow. The torches that lined the corridors flickered between celestial and infernal energy, their glow unstable, never quite deciding which side they belonged to. The walls themselves seemed to breathe in the tension, holding onto the weight of centuries-old hatred like a creature waiting for the moment to bare its fangs.

Y/n stood at the edge of the upper corridor, arms lazily draped over the stone railing, watching the slow, inevitable collapse unfold below.

From this height, the courtyard looked like a battleground waiting to happen.

The celestial students stood in carefully constructed stillness, their postures poised but rigid, as if rehearsing restraint. Their faces were unreadable masks, but their hands twitched toward their weapons, a silent readiness simmering beneath their skin.

The demons? They didn't posture. They lounged instead, spines slouched, movements slow and deliberate, their grins all sharp edges. Their laughter wasn't loud, but it was pointed, intentional, a blade pressed lightly to the throat of the moment.

It was like watching two storms edge toward each other, the pressure in the air so thick it could snap.

Jake leaned beside her, arms crossed as he rested his weight against the stone railing. His golden hair caught the last light of the day, casting a faint glow around him, a perfect picture of celestial grace. Unlike Y/n, Jake embodied everything an angel was supposed to be—disciplined, dutiful, unwaveringly loyal to their kind. But he was more than just a soldier of the heavens. He was warm in a way most celestials weren't, easy to trust, steady in a way that made people instinctively look to him for guidance.

"You're staring," he said, voice low but knowing.

Y/n hummed in response, chin resting on her palm. "I'm observing."

Jake scoffed. "Observing, right. That's what you call it when you're getting ready to make my life difficult."

Y/n shot him a sideways glance, a smirk tugging at her lips. Jake was infuriatingly good at reading her. He always had been.

Jake had been a constant in Y/n's life for as long as she could remember. Y/n was a contradiction—a celestial who never quite fit the mold she was supposed to. Where angels were expected to be unwavering, disciplined, and dutiful, she was restless, questioning, always pushing the boundaries of what was allowed. She was sharp-tongued, quick-witted, and exasperatingly stubborn, the kind of person who would rather challenge authority than bow to it. He had always been the responsible one between them, the steady foundation she could fall back on, even when she didn't want to admit she needed it. And she needed it more often than she liked to admit. Her defiance made her an outlier, even among her own kind, but Jake never treated her like she was wrong for being different. He just sighed, rolled his eyes, and made sure she didn't get herself killed in the process of proving a point. Where Y/n was reckless, Jake was careful. Where she challenged everything, he carried the weight of tradition, not because he blindly followed it, but because he believed in something greater than himself. Where Y/n chased danger with relentless curiosity, Jake was the one to pull her back, not because he wanted to control her, but because he didn't know what he would do if something happened to her. They weren't bound by blood, but that had never mattered. Jake treated her like family—like a younger sister who never learned to stay out of trouble. And if protecting her meant dragging her out of her own messes, then so be it.

"You ever get tired of being so paranoid?" she asked lazily.

"You ever get tired of making me paranoid?"

She grinned. "No."

Jake sighed, shaking his head. "Then no, I don't get tired of keeping you from getting yourself killed."

His voice was light, but his eyes weren't. Jake didn't joke about things like that.

He had the kind of goodness that made people gravitate toward him—a warmth most angels lacked, a patience most wouldn't bother with. But when it came to her, that patience ran thin. He didn't just look out for her; he protected her. Sometimes that meant dragging her out of trouble, sometimes it meant standing beside her while she ran headfirst into it. Either way, he'd be there, whether she wanted him to or not.

She let the moment hang in the air for a beat before dropping her gaze back to the courtyard. "The Academy had always had rules. But lately, it feels like those rules don't matter anymore."

Jake followed her gaze, his expression darkening. "They don't."

She tilted her head. "Because of the Heir?"

His jaw tensed. "Because of what the Heir's death means."

The Celestial Heir. The one who had been meant to rule. The one who had been untouchable—until he wasn't.

His death had sent ripples through the Academy, but instead of seeking truth, both sides had responded in the only way they knew how.

With violence.

Y/n tapped her fingers against the railing, eyes narrowing. "I want to know who did it. Not because of celestial honor, or justice, or whatever nonsense the Council preaches—"

Jake cut in, his tone flat. "You just want to see how they pulled it off."

She turned her head slightly, a slow smirk tugging at her lips. "Jake" she said suddenly, her voice edged with something unreadable. "Someone outmaneuvered the system. Someone broke a rule no one was supposed to break. And if I can figure out how, maybe I can figure out what else is being kept from us."

Jake exhaled slowly. "And if you don't like the answer?"

Y/n's lips quirked. "I'm not picky."

Jake sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "Of course you would say that."

She smirked. "What, do you want me to sit here quietly and be a model celestial?"

Jake gave her a deadpan look. "I'd like you to at least pretend that your survival instincts work properly."

She shrugged. "No promises."

Jake groaned. "Why am I even surprised?"

Then—a sharp crack split through the air below them.

Magic—dark and searing—collided with a celestial shield, sending a shockwave rippling through the courtyard.

She barely registered Jake's curse before she was moving.

By the time they reached the courtyard, the tension had already shattered.

And at the center of it all was Sunoo.

It was no secret that Sunoo despised demons more than any other celestial. He never bothered with quiet resentment—he wore his distaste plainly, like a blade strapped to his hip. While angels preached restraint, Sunoo had always worn his hatred like a dare, an unspoken challenge to anyone willing to test it.

But the reason why? That was something no one truly understood.

Some whispered that he had lost someone—family, a mentor, a lover—to the infernals. Others believed it was something more innate, a hatred passed through bloodlines, a belief so deeply ingrained that it had become part of him.

But if there was one thing everyone agreed on, it was this—

Sunoo never picked fights without reason.

And yet, here he was, standing alone.

Y/n's gaze swept the courtyard, searching for the missing piece.

Sunoo wasn't just standing his ground. He was waiting. His golden light flickered—controlled but coiled, shifting between attack and restraint.

The demons circling him weren't reckless. They were patient.

They weren't looking for a fight. They were waiting for him to break.

And the air—the air felt wrong.

She felt it before she even made the decision to move. A pulse, deep inside her chest.

Not fear.

Not concern.

An unease she couldn't name.

Like the world was holding its breath.

Her fingers curled. This doesn't make sense.

Why hadn't Sunoo struck first? Why was this taking so long? And why was no one stepping in?

The world was built on rules—spoken and unspoken.

But in moments like this, she hated them.

She didn't just want to interfere. She needed to know.

She Felt It Before She Moved.

The anticipation. The way the air had thickened—not just with magic, but with tension so dense it felt suffocating.

The demons were playing with their food, dragging this out because they could.

It coiled inside her like an itch she couldn't scratch. Frustration. Restlessness. A hunger for answers.

And when Jake's hand closed around her wrist to stop her—

Her magic flared.

It wasn't intentional. It never was.

A flicker of golden light curled at her fingertips—too sharp, too unstable, too unnatural.

Jake's grip tightened—just slightly. His expression didn't change.

He didn't need it to.

Because this wasn't new.

Because he had known since they were kids.

Because when they were younger, he used to panic.

And now? Now he just waited for it to pass.

She sucked in a breath, forcing it back down. Not now. Not here.

Not like before.

Not like the day the temple floor blackened beneath her hands, the stone hissing as if rejecting her touch.

Not like the time she cast a spell without speaking, without meaning to, without knowing how—only for the air to tremble in response.

Not like the day she first realized she wasn't stronger than the others.

She was weaker.

That's how they saw it, anyway.

And then—before she could stop herself, she was already moving.

"Y/n."

Jake's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension, his fingers wrapping around her wrist before she could take another step.

"Don't."

She didn't look at him.

"He's outnumbered."

Jake exhaled sharply, his grip tightening for a split second before letting go. "That's his problem."

His voice was steady, but his eyes weren't.

He wasn't heartless. But he was pragmatic. He knew when to pick battles and when to let things play out.

But Y/n had never been like that.

And he knew it.

"Not this again," he muttered, voice low, rough. "You don't even know what's happening."

She didn't care.

"That's why I have to."

She was already moving.

Jungwon Wasn't Interested in the Fight.

He never was.

Demons found sport in provoking celestials—testing their restraint, pushing them past their supposed divinity—but to Jungwon, it was predictable. Monotonous.

A celestial with a bruised ego was still just a celestial. They all bled the same.

So when Sunoo became the target, Jungwon didn't even lift his head.

Not his problem.

The fight had been escalating, but it was the same tired game they played every day. A push, a shove, a drawn blade. Sunoo was making it worse, his presence a challenge in itself. It was no secret that he hated demons. He made sure everyone knew it.

But then—

Something changed.

A voice—sharp, teasing, unafraid.

Jungwon barely turned his head, gaze flicking toward the scene, boredom shifting into intrigue.

He had been watching her for exactly seven seconds.

That was how long it had taken him to go from dismissing her to wondering why he'd never looked at her before.

She wasn't supposed to be interesting.

Celestials weren't supposed to be interesting.

And yet, here she was—acting like the rules didn't apply to her.

She wasn't Just Interfering—She Was Playing Them.

"This is getting embarrassing," Y/n drawled, tilting her head. "I thought demons were supposed to be good at fighting. Or is ganging up on someone the best you can do?"

Several demons turned to her, some amused, others irritated.

One scoffed. "Brave words for someone standing alone."

She shrugged. "Alone? Hardly. I'm just not dumb enough to throw a punch when my words will do the work for me. Unlike you."

She was testing them.

Jungwon's lips twitched. Foolish, but amusing.

She was pushing their nerves—taunting the demons, and they were letting her.

For a moment.

And then, the shift.

Jungwon felt it before it happened.

The amusement in the air curdled.

The anger shifted from controlled to dangerous.

Jungwon's gaze locked onto the demon just before he moved.

Y/n didn't notice.

Jungwon did.

And just as the demon lunged—

Jungwon struck first.

The Atmosphere Collapsed.

The impact was immediate. A single, precise movement—effortless, almost casual—sent the demon flying backward, crashing into the stone wall.

A sickening thud.

Then—silence.

Every demon in the courtyard froze.

Every celestial stared.

Because Jungwon hadn't just stopped an attack.

He had stopped one of his own.

She felt the shift like a storm breaking open.

Magic still crackled in the air, but the fight had already ended.

Because Jungwon had ended it.

Her breath was steady, but she could feel the pulse of her own heartbeat against her ribs.

Jungwon had moved before she could.

And that fact bothered her.

Y/n Met His Gaze, Unwavering.

"You..." Her voice didn't waver, but her mind raced. "Why?"

Jungwon rolled his shoulders, unbothered.

"He was in my way."

She frowned. "Your way to what?"

Jungwon tilted his head slightly. "Leaving."

Like this wasn't worth his time.

He turned on his heel, already walking away.

And something in her bristled.

"You don't seem like the type to get involved."

Jungwon paused.

A slow glance over his shoulder. Unimpressed. Unbothered.

"I don't."

She crossed her arms. "Then why did you?"

His lips twitched. "What, do you want a thank you?"

Y/n scoffed. "No, I want a real answer."

Jungwon turned back fully now, facing her. This time, he looked at her differently.

"Alright." His lips curved. "You were entertaining. That's all."

Y/n narrowed her eyes. "So you just felt like intervening?"

Jungwon took a step closer, tilting his head slightly.

"Yes."

And the way he said it—calm, effortless, honest—sent something cold down her spine.

Not because she feared him.

But because she didn't understand him.

The Fight Was Over. But Y/n Wasn't Done.

A sharp voice rang across the courtyard.

"Enough!"

Professors.

Jungwon didn't linger. His interest was already fading.

But Y/n?

She watched as he walked away, irritation simmering in her chest.

Something about this felt... unfinished.

She had a feeling this wasn't the last time they'd cross paths.

And she wasn't sure whether that thought unsettled her or thrilled her.

Jake Had Been Waiting.

Before she could process what happened, Jake appeared beside her, grabbing her arm.

"Alright, that's enough. Let's go."

She wrenched her arm free, eyes still locked on Jungwon's retreating form. "Did you see that?" she hissed. "He's so—so—"

Jake sighed. "Arrogant? Yeah. Dangerous? Also yes. And yet, you keep making this harder for yourself."

She crossed her arms. "I'm just saying—"Nope. Not listening."

Jake grabbed her wrist and dragged her away from the fight.

Jungwon, now halfway across the courtyard, smirked as he watched them leave.

Fascinating.

An angel who doesn't know when to stand down.

PROLOGUE | MASTERLIST I NEXT CHAPTER

🏷️ @whateveridontcaresheesh @stormy1408 @indigoez @riribelle @iifrui (comment if you’d like to join)