( 📧 ) two rival idols, two shameless undercover hate accounts & a very thin line between hatred and desire . . .

❪ 6102 ❫ ｡ ❛ n. riki ❜ 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 𝑖𝑛 enemies ! beware : heavy cursing, hatred, not an enemies to lovers, suggestive sexual content, heavy sexting questionable remarks, idol x idol, degradation, insults, toxic behaviours and conduct, they’re filthy & horny asf all of them btw. if you get uncomfortable with these types of things don’t read please it pretty filthy O1. (1O). FULL FIC 🫐

PAIRING: best friend!ni-ki × fem!reader

After seeing you laugh a little too closely with Jake, Ni-ki drags you home, ties you to his bed, and makes you beg for him until you forget anyone else exists.

⚠︎ : explicit content - smut (mdni) including: bondage (wrist restraints), fingering, oral (f. receiving), edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, degradation, possessive dirty talk, jealousy, begging, crying during sex, squirting, creampie, best friends to lovers, not proofread, (kinda ass ngl)

nsfw (most) and sfw (minors please don’t interact !) will be updated frequently as I read . . . a lot of love to all these authors 🥰

NI-KI

LENIENCY by @ptolemaeiia there’s a thin line between hatred and desire. ♨︎ contains enemies, smut, and other sensitive topics.

TROUBLE by @lovecvrexx. in which you, aka trouble, miss niki while he’s in japan. and as things are about to peak, niki says something that has your blood running cold. (•ㅂ•) contains smut

AROUSAL METRICS by @ptolemaeiia two exes who still love each other locked in a room, one psychological experiment. 6 hours. no escape. (≖ᴗ≖) contains smut, angst absolutelygoated autornim 🤭

MORNING BREEZE by @drkbl00d while you're on holiday, your boyfriend finds you in the pool, not next to him in bed. suggestive

EAGER, ARENT YOU? by @drkbl00d giving the younger guy a chance to show you what real love feels like. contains smut

nsfw (most) and sfw (minors please don’t interact !) will be updated frequently as I read . . . a lot of love to all these authors 🥰

NI-KI

LENIENCY by @ptolemaeiia there’s a thin line between hatred and desire. ♨︎ contains enemies, smut, and other sensitive topics.

TROUBLE by @lovecvrexx. in which you, aka trouble, miss niki while he’s in japan. and as things are about to peak, niki says something that has your blood running cold. (•ㅂ•) contains smut

AROUSAL METRICS by @ptolemaeiia two exes who still love each other locked in a room, one psychological experiment. 6 hours. no escape. (≖ᴗ≖) contains smut, angst absolutelygoated autornim 🤭

MORNING BREEZE by @drkbl00d while you're on holiday, your boyfriend finds you in the pool, not next to him in bed. suggestive

EAGER, ARENT YOU? by @drkbl00d giving the younger guy a chance to show you what real love feels like. contains smut

-p.sh x f!reader

synopsis; college life definitely isn't cheap- especially when living on campus, so y/n ultimately decides that the quickest way to make money is to sell baked goods. she's amazing at making sweet treats, and it shows-given that she's now known as the best place to get something sweet on campus. sunghoon finally gives in after hearing about her time and time again, but he is not satisfied with his order!! clearly, there was misunderstanding along the way..

content (warning); mentions of marijuana, cursing(?), all characters are 19-22 in this, mentions of suicide (jokes), sexual innuendos/jokes.. idk.that seems about right....GUYS IGNORE THE TIMESTAMPS PLEASE. 😂😂😐

09, 10, ... masterlist

𓏵

𝓦HEREIN 𓂃 𓈒𓏸 park sunghoon finally experiences a brazilian woman. so this is what he had been missing?

❪ 4.7k ❫ ｡ 박성훈 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 𝑖𝑛 fcft !

𝐶ONTAINS. a little plot, making out like the world might end smh, clumsy akward sunghoon x confident reader idol hoon, NSFW TAGS : oral, dry humping, semi public, protected sex, dancing, lap dance kinda, anal play (a bit), multiple orgasms, munch ! sunghoon, mirror sex, one night stand to….?? brazilian reader. for all my brazilian moots (i’m sorry if i got things wrong i wanted it to be no-stereotypes lmk) ── ℳlist

Sunghoon had always prided himself on being the adaptable one in the group. See— he was a pretty cool guy—one who could nail a triple axel and a tiktok trend in the same week. But holy shit, being a kpop idol in 2026 meant your brain was constantly buffering between universes.

One minute you’re in a practice room sweating through choreography, the next you’re dancing to some Brazilian funk beat that your fans end up eating up— until your algorithm basically becomes portuguese.

Sunghoon wasn’t blind— he saw the edits. The fans calling him “brasileiro de coração” even though his blood was about as Brazilian as a kimchi fridge.

They’d flood his lives with “Sunghoon, vem pro Brasil,” and he’d just smile that polite idol smile while internally panicking like, ‘Bro, I can barely speak english without crying. What the fuck am I gonna do with portuguese?’

And now here they were. The 100th show of their career had just wrapped in São Paulo, and the energy had been absolutely hectic — if he chose to forget about the fan wars that had disrupted the performance…

The confetti cannons, the sea of lightsticks waving like a living organism, the way the crowd screamed lyrics back in broken Korean. Wild. They’d earned a few precious days of semi-freedom before the next flight and schedule swallowed them whole again.

Management had them on a loose leash: “Stay together, don’t cause international incidents, and for the love of God, no dating rumors.”

Yeah, right.

The rooftop bar was the first stop— some swanky spot overlooking the city lights with a view that made even Jake whistle low. Music thumped through hidden speakers, half K-pop (because of course the DJ had to show love), half that infectious brazilian beat that made Sunghoon get instant war flashbacks.

He nursed a caipirinha like it was holy water, the lime and cachaça burning just enough to remind him he was very much not in Seoul.

“Hyung, just loosen up,” Jungwon said, elbowing him with a grin. The kid looked way too comfortable in a loose button-up, like he’d been born for tropical nights.

Sunghoon snorted. “I’m calculating how many of these I can drink before I start falling asleep.”

Heeseung leaned over, already a little loose from his own drink. “Oh cmon, fans have been calling you Brazilian Sunghoon for years. Might as well commit, learn the bachata. Or whatever the hell they do here.”

“It’s not bachata, dumbass,” Sunghoon muttered, but he was laughing.

Adaptable my ass. Sunghoon still flinched when people hugged him for longer than three seconds… these people kissed cheeks like it was a handshake. He was gonna short-circuit.

The 7 of them clinked glasses, Riki was already filming sneaky stories (with permission, of course), Jay was discussing the best Brazilian street food with a local staffer, and Sunoo was charming everyone within a five-meter radius. Typical.

A couple hours in, someone suggested ditching the rooftop for somewhere quieter. More private. The kind of bar where the lights were low, the music still pulsed but you could actually hear each other curse without screaming. They piled into cars, security discreetly trailing, and rolled into a tucked-away spot that felt like a secret.

Sunghoon sank into a booth, legs stretched out, the bass vibrating through his bod. His mind was still doing that buffering thing— Korea brain trying to process the heat, the openness, the way Brazilians just lived out loud. No one here cared and it was freeing. Terrifying. Kinda addictive.

Then he saw you.

And his first coherent thought was: Jesus Christ, the universe is laughing at me.

You were moving through the crowd— all beautiful hair bouncing with every step, skin glowing under the colored lights. The kind of girl who probably spoke with her hands and laughed with her whole chest.

Abort mission. Abort. You were laughing at something your friend said and Sunghoon swore your smile had punched him in the solar plexus.

He took another sip of his drink to look busy. Failed. Because of course you caught him staring— your eyes met across the rooftop, and you tilted your head, that playful, knowing smirk appearing like you could read every panicked thought racing through his head.

Fuck. And now you were coming over.

He straightened up, flashing the polite half-smile that worked on fans and variety show hosts alike. Inside, his brain was screaming in three languages: Annyeonghaseyo— wait no—oi, tudo bem?—shit, what’s the Portuguese for ‘I’m fucking terrified’?

Sunghoon felt the shift the second you slid into the booth like you belonged there. No hesitation, no awkward hovering like in common interactions— just pure confidence and a devastating smile. You clearly had zero clue who he was though, to you, he was just some tall, sharp-featured guy nursing a drink in the corner. And that? That made everything ten times more dangerous.

“Ei, tudo bem?” you asked, voice bright and melodic, the Portuguese rolling off your tongue like music. You tilted your head, waiting.

Sunghoon blinked. Zero. I got zero. Why the fuck did I think coming to Brazil without learning more than “obrigado” was a good idea?

He gave you a small, stiff bow out of pure habit. “Uh… hello.”

You laughed, soft and warm, not mocking. “Ah, gringo. Okay, wait—” You switched to broken English, cute as hell but still chaotic. “You… alone? Want company? You look… lonely, but hot. Very hot.”

Jesus effing Christ. His ears burned because he understood enough to feel his stomach flip. He stood there like a statue, nodding politely, lips pressed in that classic awkward half-smile.

You tried again, gesturing between you two. “Dance? Drink? You… speak English?”

Sunghoon shook his head slowly, feeling like the world’s most useless man. Great.

You let out a dramatic sigh, then muttered under your breath in Portuguese, “Porra, complicado pra caralho… Ah, whatever. Too complicated for me.” You started to turn away with a little shrug, still smiling like it was no big deal.

Before you could fully bail, Sunghoon fumbled his phone out, thumbs flying. He typed into Google translate and turned it toward you: “Do you need help?”

You paused, read it, and burst out laughing— full, bright, head-tilted-back laughter that made your hair bounce. “Ai meu Deus, you’re using the translator? That’s cute. Okay, okay.”

You leaned in a little closer to read the screen better, your perfume hitting him like a warm wave— something sweet and spicy and Sunghoon’s brain short-circuited again.

Abort. Do not flirt. You are literally in Brazil for a show. Do. Not. Flirt.

But you were already typing on your own phone, holding it up with a playful grin. “I saw you staring. You have nice eyes. Want to talk or you scared?”

He read it, then typed back quickly, cheeks heating up. “Not scared. Just bad at languages. You’re very lively.”

You snorted after reading his response, clearly amused. “Lively? I’m fun, you mean. You’re stiff like a mannequin, but it’s kinda hot. Mysterious guy vibes.”

You went back and forth like that for a bit— Google translate doing the heavy lifting while you kept laughing at his overly polite translations and he slowly loosened up. You told him (through the app) your name was Y/n, that you were here with friends celebrating nothing in particular, and that you looooved making random gringos dance.

He kept his answers short and safe. No name. No idol stuff. Just “visiting for work” and “first time in Brazil.”

Then you typed the question that made his pulse spike: “You want to dance with me?”

Sunghoon stared at the screen for a second. Then he typed back: “yes” cause why the fuck no?

Your whole face lit up. You grabbed his wrist— warm fingers, no hesitation—and pulled him toward the area where people were already moving to the funk beat.

See, at first he was still stiff, trying to find the beat like it was a choreographed stage performance. But you weren’t having it, so you turned around, back against his chest, and started moving— hips rolling slow and confident, one hand reaching back to rest on his thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Holy shit. Okay. Okay.

You glanced over your shoulder with a bubbly grin. “Relax, gringo!” You pressed in closer, guiding his hands to your waist as you danced on him, playful and, completely unselfconscious. Every roll of your hips sent heat straight through him, you were laughing, singing along under your breath, turning to face him so you could loop your arms around his neck for a moment, fingers brushing the hair at his nape.

Sunghoon knew by then that he was fucked.

His hands started moving on their own— still careful, but less robotic—settling on your hips, feeling the way you moved like liquid. The beat dropped harder and you grinned up at him, pressing in closer, one hand sliding down his chest like you were mapping him out.

He swallowed hard, the shy stiffness cracking as a small, genuine smirk finally broke through, his fingers pressing a little firmer into your waist.

The track switched to something dirtier, heavier bass that vibrated straight through your bodies & you didn’t hesitate. You arched your back, pressing your ass back against him in a smooth, unapologetic grind that made his breath hitch.

It wasn’t some over the-top performance —it was just how you danced. Normal. Fun. Brazilians didn’t treat twerking like some forbidden sexual act; it was just movement, rhythm, joy in your body.

And fuck if that didn’t wake something up in him. Not just heat (though there was plenty of that), but a challenge.

You moved like someone who lived without constantly scanning for cameras or judgments. It made his careful, controlled idol shell feel itchy— like maybe he could let it crack for once.

You glanced back at him again, that bubbly smirk in place. Through quick thumbs on your phone you typed: “You’re getting better, gringo. Or are you just enjoying the view back there?”

Sunghoon let out a short laugh despite himself and typed back: “Both.”

You laughed out loud, the sound bright even over the bass, and spun to face him, arms looping around his neck again. Your bodies pressed flush now— chest to chest, hips still moving in sync; one of your hands slid down his side, bold and teasing, while you kept the eye contact that was honestly more dangerous than the dancing.

His own hands dared to roam a little lower, gripping your hips as he finally started matching your energy, less robot, more man who hadn’t had a night off in years.

He risked a glance toward the booth where the members were. Panic hit for half a second— shit, what if they see?—but Heeseung was half-draped over Jay, both of them laughing at something on a phone. Jungwon had his head tipped back, clearly feeling the caipirinhas and Riki and Sunoo were in their own world, unbothered as hell. No one was paying attention to the corner where Sunghoon was lowkey losing his mind with a girl who had no idea who he was.

Fuck it. One night. Just let go.

The dance got hotter. You moved against him without shame, rolling and grinding to the beat, your laughter mixing with little teasing comments typed between songs: “You’re stiff in the shoulders but loose down here… interesting.”

He’d flush, type something dorky back like “Blame the jet lag. Or you.” and you’d reward him by pressing even closer, fingers tracing the edge of his shirt like you were daring him to stop being polite.

By the time the third song ended, you were both breathing heavier and you bodies were slick with light sweat, the air thick between you. You pulled your phone out again, typed, and showed him with a raised eyebrow and that same playful fire in your eyes: “This is getting dangerous. You wanna leave with me?”

Sunghoon read it twice. His heart slammed against his ribs. Yes. No. Fuck yes. He typed back simply: “Yes.”

He shot a quick text to the group chat— something vague about “stepping out for air, don’t wait up”—and caught Jungwon’s eye across the room. The leader just raised an eyebrow, gave a tiny smirk and a lazy thumbs up. The others were too far gone to grill him. Good enough.

You slipped your hand into his and tugged him out of the bar before he could overthink it— th night air hit cool and salty as you both wandered toward the empty stretch of beach nearby, the city lights fading behind you. The sand was still warm from the day, waves whispering in the distance. No crowds. Just moonlight, the occasional distant laugh from the city, and the two of you.

You sat side by side in the sand, shoulders brushing and Google translate stayed open like a nervous third wheel. He typed first: “You’re nothing like people back home. It’s refreshing.”

You read it and bumped his shoulder with yours, typing back with a grin: “Good. You’re too pretty to be so serious all the time. Smile more, gringo. Or I’ll make you.”

The flirting got easier (and cringier) the longer you sat there.

He typed stupid shit like “I’m trying. You make my brain stop working in three languages.”

You fired back “Only three? dang i’m losing my touch.”

Laughter came easier— surely he was still awkward, rubbing the back of his neck, choosing his translated words carefully—but you kept the vibe light, bubbly, pulling him out of his shell with every witty jab.

The tension crept back in slowly— the space between you shrank. Your knee pressed against his thigh and his eyes kept dropping to your lips. You noticed, of course and with zero hesitation, you leaned in, one hand cupping the side of his face, and kissed him first.

It started soft— testing—but the second he kissed you back, it turned messy. Hands in hair, bodies shifting closer in the sand. You tasted like lime and sugar from the drinks, warm and addictive as Sunghoon’s fingers gripped your waist again, pulling you half into his lap as the kiss deepened, tongues and little nips and zero chill. Sand got everywhere but neither of you cared.

It was heated, desperate in that honeymoon-phase way, your bodies remembering exactly how they’d moved on the dance floor but with way less clothing in the way.

You shifted fully into his lap, knees sinking into the cool sand on either side of his thighs, and deepened it with zero hesitation. Your hands slid into his dark hair, tugging just enough to tilt his head back as your tongue traced his bottom lip, demanding entrance. It was fiery, passionate, all heat and hunger— like you kissed the same way you danced: unapologetic, alive, pouring everything into the moment.

Sunghoon’s brain blue-screened.

Holy fuck— He tried to keep up, his hands gripping your hips like an anchor, but his kisses stayed a little stiffer, more controlled. Romantic in that careful, almost scared way he’d learned from the pressure of never fucking up publicly. Soft presses, lingering, a gentle tilt of his head as he cupped your jaw like you were something delicate.

Idol training ran deep: no PDA, keep it private, always aware of eyes that could ruin everything.

He pulled back just a fraction, breathing hard, eyes darting toward the distant city lights and empty beach path. “Wait—someone…” he muttered, the words clumsy even without the translator.

You let out a soft, breathy laugh against his mouth, your voice dropping into English— low, warm, and so fucking pretty it hit him like a punch to the chest. “Loosen up, amor… No one’s here. Just us.”

Goddamn. That voice. The way it curled around the words, husky from the dancing and the heat between you, made something in him snap. The pretty lilt, the confidence, the total lack of shame— it was nothing like the quiet, measured affection he was used to. It melted the last of his stiff nerves.

“Fuck it,” he whispered in korean, more to himself than you, and pulled you back in.

The kiss turned messier. You poured gasoline on it— tongue sliding against his, deep and demanding, nipping at his lip hard enough to draw a low groan from his throat. Your hips rolled down against him instinctively, bodies grinding in the sand like an echo of the dance floor. One of your hands fisted his shirt, the other tangled tighter in his hair, guiding the angle like you owned the moment.

Sunghoon tried. He really did. His kisses stayed a touch more romantic underneath the heat— deep presses mixed with the growing hunger— but your fire was contagious.

He started chasing your tongue with his, letting himself get a little sloppy, a little desperate. Teeth clashing, breaths mingling, sand sticking to your skin where hands wandered under clothes. He was still holding back just a fraction, that cultural wire in his brain screaming about exposure, but your voice kept echoing in his head— loosen up—and it made him press you closer, one hand sliding up your back under your top, fingers splaying across warm skin.

You pulled back for air, lips swollen, eyes dark and sparkling with that same mischief. A quick grin, then you leaned in again, whispering hot against his ear in that pretty accent, “Better…” before diving back into another heated kiss—tongues, little moans, the works.

You didn’t give him time to overthink though— your hips rolled down against his again, slower this time, grinding right where the heat was building hardest. A soft, needy sound escaped you into the kiss and Sunghoon’s grip on your waist tightened hard enough to bruise.

Between messy kisses you pulled back just enough to breathe against his lips, voice low and pretty and wrecked. “What do you like…?” Another slow grind, your mouth brushing his. “Tell me what you like to do.”

Oh god, you were asking him about his hobbies now? While he was rock hard from just a kiss?

Sunghoon’s head was spinning. He chased your lips, kissing you deeper— “This,” he murmured, the word half-lost in the next kiss. “You. Like this.”

You smiled into his mouth, fiery and teasing, tongue sliding against his and the grinding only got heavier. You rocked against him shamelessly, the friction through your clothes driving both of you crazy. His hands roamed— up your sides, under the hem of your top, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through your bra while you pressed your chest closer to him.

Between heated breaths you pulled back again, eyes dark. “You don’t have girlfriend right?” The words came out a little breathless, that pretty accent wrapping around them like sin. “Tell me. No girlfriend?”

Sunghoon shook his head quickly, almost dizzy. “No— no girlfriend,” he rasped, then yanked you back into another kiss.

This one was all heat. Your tongues tangled messily, your hands sliding down his chest, nails lightly dragging over his shirt before dipping lower, palming him through his pants. He groaned into your mouth, hips bucking up to meet your grinding, one of his hands slipping between you to squeeze your ass and pull you harder against him.

You were gonna kill him. He was supposed to be responsible, and there he was, dry-humping a girl on a public beach like a horny teenager. But your voice—fuck, your voice—

Eventually you slowed just enough to grab your phone with shaky fingers. You typed quickly, turned the screen toward him, still straddling his lap: “Want to go back with me?”

Sunghoon read it, chest heaving. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But the thought of staff, managers, security, or any of the members showing up at the hotel made ice shoot through his veins. He typed back: “Can’t go to my hotel… complicated. Too many people.”

You read it and gave him that understanding little smirk. You typed again: “My place is nearby. Close. We can walk.”

He nodded, but neither of you moved to get up. The translator got tossed aside in the sand as you leaned back in. The kissing picked up again—deeper, hotter. Your hips kept rolling against him in lazy, teasing grinds while his hands slipped under your top, palms sliding over bare skin, thumbs circling sensitive spots through your bra. You moaned softly into his mouth, one hand palming him firmer through his pants, the other tangled in his hair.

Sunghoon kissed you like he was starving but still trying to be gentle underneath it all— soft bites, lingering presses, romantic little pauses where he just breathed you in—while you poured pure fire back at him. Tongues, grinding, hands everywhere through clothes. Sand stuck to your skin, the waves kept whispering nearby, but nothing else reallymattered.

The walk to your place was made of of stolen kisses and wandering hands; every few steps you’d pull him into another heated kiss under the streetlights, tongues sliding, bodies pressing against random walls like teenagers who couldn’t wait. Sunghoon’s hands never left you —cupping your face one second, gripping your ass the next, his usual careful restraint fraying with every pretty sound you made.

By the time you finally pushed open the door to your small apartment, both of you were breathing hard, lips swollen, clothes rumpled with sand. The second the door clicked shut you were on him again— Sunghoon backed you against the nearest wall, kissing you deep and messy while your hands tugged at his shirt.

Between kisses you pulled back just enough to murmur against his lips, “What do you do for living?” Your accent wrapped around the broken English like velvet, curious but teasing.

Sunghoon froze for half a second. Shit. Truth? No. Can’t. He kissed you again to buy time, then mumbled, “I… work in entertainment. Videos. Content.” It was vague as hell, but it wasn’t a total lie. Close enough.

You hummed, clearly not buying it all the way, that playful smirk curving your lips. “Mmhh… I bet.” You didn’t push. Instead you grabbed his hand and pulled him toward your bedroom, kissing him the whole way like you couldn’t bear even a few seconds apart.

The room was dimly lit by a small lamp, soft and warm, with colorful throws and that same sweet- scent that had been driving him crazy all night.

You pushed him down onto the edge of the bed and climbed straight into his lap— backwards. Your ass settled right against his already aching cock, and you started grinding slow and filthy, rolling your hips in smooth circles that made his eyes roll back.

“Fuck—” Sunghoon groaned, hands flying to your waist. He’d never been handled like this. His limited experience had been vanilla as hell— quiet hotel rooms, polite and quick, always careful not to make too much noise or mess.

But you? You moved like the music was still in your blood, ass pressing and circling against him with perfect pressure, the friction through your clothes pure torture.

And holy shit, he was gonna cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. You were gonna ruin him and he was letting you.

You kept grinding, arching your back so your ass moved beautifully against his lap, teasing, rolling, pressing down harder every time you felt him twitch. Sunghoon’s head fell forward against your shoulder, breathing ragged, fingers digging into your hips as he tried not to lose it too fast. Every roll of your body sent sparks up his spine.

“Too much?” you asked sweetly over your shoulder, still grinding that perfect rhythm.

He couldn’t even answer with words. Instead he flipped you around with a sudden burst of confidence, laying you back on the bed. You let out a surprised laugh that turned into a moan when he hovered over you, kissing down your neck— open-mouthed, sucking lightly, then bolder, teeth grazing your pulse point while his hands pushed your top up.

Fuck being careful.

He kissed lower, exploring. His mouth found your breasts, pushing your bra aside so he could lick and suck at your nipples, experimenting with pressure until you arched into him with a pretty gasp. One hand slid between your legs, rubbing you through your clothes first, then slipping underneath—fingers teasing your folds, circling your clit with growing confidence.

He was clumsy at first, learning what made you moan louder, but the sounds you made fueled him.

“Can I… taste you?” he asked against your stomach, voice hoarse and a little awkward, cheeks flushed. “Please?”

You nodded, eyes dark with want. Sunghoon didn’t need more encouragement. He grabbed your legs, hooking them over his shoulders as he pulled your bottoms and panties off in one eager motion. The sight of you spread open for him made his cock twitch painfully in his pants.

“Fuck, beautiful,” he breathed, more to himself than you. Then he leaned in.

The first lick was tentative, almost reverent— tongue dragging slowly up your folds, but the taste of you hit him like a drug. He groaned loudly against your pussy, the vibration making you shiver, and suddenly he was messy. He licked and sucked with enthusiasm, tongue flicking your clit before dipping inside you, nose buried against you as he ate you out like a mad man.

And the bastard grinned against your heat, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, because pleasuring you was turning him on more than anything he’d ever felt. Every moan you gave him, every roll of your hips against his face, sent sparks straight to his cock.

So this is what he’d been missing? He could stay here forever.

He took his time, making it last. He’d bring you right to the edge— sucking your clit harder, sliding two fingers inside you and curling them just right—then slow down, licking softly, kissing your thighs, letting you come back from the brink. Not to tease you meanly, but because he wanted it to last. Wanted to memorize every sound, every tremble.

“Sunghoon—” you gasped, using the name he’d finally given you earlier, fingers tugging his hair.

He hummed happily and dove back in, messier this time. Tongue fucking into you, then back to your clit, fingers pumping steadily. He edged you twice more, grinning every time you whined and tried to grind against his face for more. The power felt good, but god, the trust felt even better.

Finally he let you tip over. He sucked your clit between his lips, fingers curling against that spot inside you, and you came hard on his tongue— shaking, moaning his name, thighs clamping around his head. But he didn’t stop. He kept going, gentler but still hungry, licking you through the aftershocks, drawing it out until you were oversensitive and laughing breathlessly, physically pushing his head away.

“Enough—fuck, por favor,” you panted, tugging him up.

Sunghoon crawled over you, lips shiny, a dazed, proud little smirk on his face. His cock was still straining in his pants, but he looked happier than he had in months.

You barely had time to catch your breath after pushing his head away when Sunghoon’s eyes darkened with a new kind of hunger.

He flipped you onto your stomach with surprising strength, then pulled your hips up so you were on your hands and knees. The position left you exposed, ass raised toward him, and he groaned at the sight like it was the best thing he’d ever seen.

“Can I… again?” he asked, voice rough and a little clumsy with want.

You arched your back deeper, pushing toward him. “You’re crazy.” you giggled, nodding.

He didn’t need to be told twice— Sunghoon gripped your ass cheeks, spreading you open, and dove in. His tongue dragged slowly from your clit all the way up, tasting every inch of you. The new angle let him bury his face completely, nose pressed against your skin as he licked and sucked with messy enthusiasm. Wet, obscene sounds echoed in the bedroom—his tongue fucking into your pussy, lips sucking on your clit, low groans vibrating against you.

“Taste so good,” he mumbled against your heat, more to himself than you.

He could do this for hours, you were dripping down his chin and he was harder than he’s ever been in his life.

His hands kneaded your ass as he ate you out. Then he got bolder; one palm came down in a light smack on your right cheek. The sharp sound mixed with your moan, and he felt you clench around his tongue. He did it again, a little harder, watching the way your flesh rippled and flushed pink under his hand.

“Like that?” he asked, voice muffled.

“Sim…. ai- more,” you moaned.

The Portuguese made his cock twitch, he could tell you were completely lost in pleasure, not controlling your language anymore. Sunghoon spanked you again, then dove back in even messier, tongue working your clit while two fingers slid deep into your pussy, curling against that perfect spot. His thumb teased higher, circling your tighter hole.

You pushed back against him, encouraging and Sunghoon took the hint. He pressed his thumb against your ass, sliding the tip inside slowly, carefully, watching your reaction the whole time. When you moaned louder and rocked back onto his face, he groaned and pushed a little deeper, fucking you gently with his thumb while his mouth devoured your pussy.

The sensations were overwhelming for both of you. Your legs trembled, the wet heat of his mouth, the stretch of his fingers in your pussy, the light pressure in your ass — it built fast. He edged you, bringing you right to the brink with fast flicks of his tongue, then slowing down to long, lazy licks until you were whining and cursing in Portuguese.

“Por favor… don’t stop…”

But he did stop just long enough to flip the dynamic. After you came hard on his tongue and fingers, shaking and moaning his name, he finally pulled back. His face was shiny, lips swollen, eyes wild.

He gave your ass one last firm spank, then climbed up behind you. “need you. now.”

You nodded eagerly— Sunghoon grabbed a condom from his wallet (always prepared, even if he never expected this), rolled it on with shaky hands, and lined himself up. He pushed in slowly at first, savoring the tight heat, then bottomed out with a deep groan.

“Fuck… you feel incredible.” he groaned in korean.

He started thrusting, hands gripping your hips. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. He reached around to rub your clit, then got bolder —spanking you between thrusts, watching your ass bounce with every time he drove into you.

After a while you took control again. You pushed him onto his back and climbed over him backwards once more. This time there was no teasin; you positioned his cock at your entrance and sank down slowly, letting him watch everything in the full-length mirror across from the bed.

Sunghoon’s eyes were glued to the reflection. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you, your ass pressing against his pelvis, the way your back arched —it was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

“Shit— look at you,” he breathed.

You started riding him in those taunting rolling circles, then bouncing, taking him deep every time. Your hands braced on his thighs for leverage as you moved faster.

“So big… me enche tão perfeito,” you moaned. ‘you fill me so perfectly.’ made him go crazy.

The praise mixed with Portuguese broke him. “Fuck, keep talking,” he groaned, hands slapping your ass lightly as you rode him. “So good— so… fuck.” he was loosing his goddamn mind.

You leaned forward, giving him an even better view in the mirror, and kept riding him like you were made for his cock. “Feels so good… you’re so good.”

Every word sent sparks through him. His hips bucked up to meet you, hands gripping your waist hard enough to leave marks; the mirror reflected everything— your bouncing tits, his cock sliding in and out, the sweat glistening on both your bodies.

You kept praising him between moans, mixing languages: “Isso… assim mesmo… you’re so deep, baby. Feel so good.”

Sunghoon was feral. He sat up, wrapping one arm around you while the other hand rubbed your clit. He kissed your neck, biting down as he thrust up into you harder. The new angle made you both moan louder and the pleasure built fast and overwhelming.

Your moans got higher, breathier. Portuguese spilled from your lips between gasps and it destroyed whatever was left of his control.

Sunghoon had never felt anything like it. You’d completely ruined him for anyone else.

The climax hit both of you like a wave— you came first, crying out as your walls pulsed and fluttered around his cock, body shaking in his tight embrace. The feeling dragged him over the edge right after. He groaned loud and broken against your neck, hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom, holding you impossibly closer like he could fuse you together. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him, longer and more intense than anything he’d ever experienced.

For a few long moments the only sounds were heavy breathing— he stayed buried inside you, arms still wrapped around your body, pressing soft reverent kisses along your shoulder and neck as you both came down.

Eventually you shifted, and he pulled out carefully, disposing of the condom before collapsing back onto the bed with you. You curled into his side, head on his chest, one leg thrown over his. The silence was comfortable but a little clumsy — two strangers who had just fucked like they’d known each other for years.

Sunghoon’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare back. “That was… so good,” he said softly, still catching his breath.

You smiled against his skin and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Mmh… so much passion hiding behind that shy face.”

He chuckled awkwardly, cheeks warming again. The post-nut clarity was hitting, along with the guilt of not being fully honest. After a few minutes of quiet pillow talk —you asking if he was okay, him complimenting how beautiful you looked when you came —he reached for his phone.

He opened Google translate and typed carefully, then turned the screen toward you.

“I’m a famous person. I didn’t tell you but I think I should let you know.”

You read it, then looked up at him with the most beautiful, soft smile he’d ever seen. Your eyes sparkled with warmth and something like affection.

“Oh, I knew,” you said gently, voice still a little husky. “Don’t worry. I just wanted you to feel normal for a little bit.”

And yeah… he was absolutely fucked.

stealing my ending by @ptolemaeiia (19k, video game au, game character!james)

in the mood for love? by @teacuplps (4k, romeo!james x juliet!reader, 1960s shanghai au, forbidden love)

stay cool, be somebody's fool by @cranialberry (17k, mechanic!james, summer romance)

power play by @lovhyeon (43k, hockey player!james x figure skater!reader, strangers to situationship)

cowboy bebop by @aftermoontea (5k, delinquent!james x farmer's daughter!reader, cowboy au)

the winner takes it all by @jjuhyeons (30k, hockey player!james x figure skater!reader)

2 wins in 1? by @fshionalien (2 parts, plug!james, mentions/use of substance)

nobody else matters by @eub11ss (5 parts, popular player!james x party girl!reader, gossip girl universe)

senior year goal by @azywhwa (4 parts, downbad!james x playing hard to get!reader)

nsfw (most) and sfw (minors please don’t interact !) will be updated frequently as I read . . . a lot of love to all these authors 🥰

NI-KI

LENIENCY by @ptolemaeiia there’s a thin line between hatred and desire. ♨︎ contains enemies, smut, and other sensitive topics.

TROUBLE by @lovecvrexx. in which you, aka trouble, miss niki while he’s in japan. and as things are about to peak, niki says something that has your blood running cold. (•ㅂ•) contains smut

AROUSAL METRICS by @ptolemaeiia two exes who still love each other locked in a room, one psychological experiment. 6 hours. no escape. (≖ᴗ≖) contains smut, angst absolutelygoated autornim 🤭

MORNING BREEZE by @drkbl00d while you're on holiday, your boyfriend finds you in the pool, not next to him in bed. suggestive

EAGER, ARENT YOU? by @drkbl00d giving the younger guy a chance to show you what real love feels like. contains smut

Pairing : roommate heeseung x reader x best friend jake Genre : fluff, smut, threesome, riding, oral sex (both), unprotected sex (don't) Synopsis : Y/N literally hated her roommate Heeseung. He was a playboy who brought countless girls to their apartment and made them moan late into the night. So to get revenge, she and her best friend Jake make a plan to make Heeseung suffer exactly what he put her through… Being disgustingly noisy in return.

Y/N wondered what could possibly be stopping her from moving out. Money, probably. It had been several months since she had found a great shared apartment at a bargain price. The apartment was spacious, close to her campus, but the only problem was her roommate.