hey there, i adore ur writing soso much!!!! been rereading ur seongje fics so many times 😋
i have this nsfw scenario in my head for sooo long. seongje is a heavy sleeper and f!reader decided she wanna take the lead (by tying his hands while he sleeps so he cant do anything) and she acts like a brat. after that he somehow manages to untie and gives her the punishment for being a brat (if that makes sense 😭😭)
u can totally ignore this if u feel uncomfortable thank uuu
pairing. geum seongje / wolf keum x f!reader
syn. geum seongje's humbling you faster than you're able to tighten the rope.
an. group prayers start in 10 minutes #Repenting #Tiemeupnextseongje
cw. smut, 18+ mdni. bondage + dacryphilia + choking + slapping? + spanking + probably more i'm missing... brat tamer seongje oh sign me tffff up established relationship. cussing. degrading, praise here n there tho names (slut, brat, mutt. . . probably more i missed) mutual orgasm.... seongje is sooo mean i didnt even mean for that Not Proofread.. too tired
playing. not around by nova
the wind is howling extra loud tonight, the occasional leaf hitting geum seongje's windows. he's drawn the blinds and left his desk lamp on for you — the man was just so exhausted that he just couldn't wait up for you to finish your school work.
it's his damn fault for insisting you come over after classes ended. he should've known you wouldn't be able to join him in bed, given the time it was.
you walk into seongje's room, naked and wet, covered only with a black towel that hugged your figure tight. it's much softer than the ones he used to own; you guess he's taken some of your complaints seriously, for once.
you smile at the sight of your boyfriend sprawled out belly-first on the bed — that’s how you always know he’s truly exhausted. under the dim light of his lamp illuminating the room, every dip and rise of his back muscles stands out in quiet detail, the kind of view that makes it hard to look away.
you catch yourself staring a little too long, until the cold air brushes against your skin — a whispered reminder that it could turn you to ice. you bite the inside of your cheek before turning your back to him, trying to silently slide his closet door open.
"god, this boy needs to go shopping. . ."
seongje’s clothes were hardly stylish — comfort always came first. he’d told you long ago that he preferred things that didn’t get in the way: nothing too baggy, nothing too tight, just enough freedom to move. he rarely ever backed down from a fight, so he wanted to throw every punch without a hint of resistance.
he was surprised when you didn't block his number after that — not even looking away from him as he uttered those words. that was long before he did that grand romantic gesture of asking you to be his girl.
back then, he felt it was a stupidly redundant thing to do. in geum seongje's mind, you were his the moment he laid his eyes on you — an intense obsession and fire in his heart that he couldn't extinguish, no matter his efforts. he figured everyone else acknowledged that as well, with the way his hands were always on you, eyes never letting you slip from his peripheral.
the problem started presenting itself as he got to know you better: you liked to fight, to resist, bite back even when you knew there would be a price to pay. if you knew how to throw a punch, he’s sure you would’ve tried it on him by now — always so sensitive, ill tempered, stubborn — denying what you already knew: you were his, and only he knew what was best for you.
most days he found it entertaining: every push, every protest only made him more eager to set you straight.
you find yourself rummaging through seongje’s closet, searching for a t-shirt that won’t slip straight down your shoulders. finally, your fingers graze a fabric you’ve never felt before in his wardrobe — smooth, silky, out of place among the usual cotton. you tug it free from between two hoodies, only to find a tie, neatly folded as though it didn’t belong at all. for a moment, you just stare, wondering when and why he’d ever wear something like this.
was an important event coming up?
at school? union. . . funeral? did someone die?
no, the more pressing issue was when had seongje ever cared about looking presentable? and in front of his lackeys, of all people.
what a strange thing for him to do.
you knew seongje would definitely complain about having to wear one if he had to. he'll probably say something about how it feels too tight around his neck, that he wants to "take this fucking shit off", and that tie would never see the light of day ever again, shoved into a dark corner of his wardrobe occupied by winter clothing he'd rarely touched.
that’s when an idea slips quietly into your mind.
with seongje, you've never been able to resist or hold out long enough. the look on his face whenever he mocks you in bed, the way his voice gets all high to imitate your sobs. you don't remember when he's ever had sex with you without slipping one or two degrading remarks: always about how you should know where you stand. sometimes, he'd even fucking commend you for trying so hard — only to be reduced to a wet, squirming mess underneath him.
"aww, where's that little attitude gone?" seongje would pout, bottom lip glistening with your saliva, red from your teeth biting down on it. his hips are snapping into you at a brutal pace — his hand holding your jaw firmly to maintain eye contact. "can't hear it with the way you're crying, [name], you gotta speak up."
then, you'd feel his cock twitch inside of you when he sees you're too dumb to respond. fucking freak got off to humbling you, seeing you too stupid to fight back — "just take it like a good girl, yeah? next time, remember who you're fucking talking to."
perhaps that's why your hands move faster than your logic: when you come to your senses, you're in the midst of tying your boyfriend's wrists together, behind his back — he continues to snore, and you hum in satisfaction. those knot tying skills from grade school summer camp are really paying off, you think as you pull on the ends of the tie to ensure it wasn't going to come loose.
you don't really know where you were going with this. the air is quiet and you're left contemplating if this was too much — was he even into stuff like this? seongje never once tried tying you up, always preferred to use his hands to restrain you.
you bite your lower lip as you get lost in thought about the implications. did you want seongje to wake up and beg you to set him free? would he want you to be on top? god, that fucker was always teasing — asking you when you'd ever try to exert some control, said he was bored of being the one to make you cry.
something stirs inside you when you imagine it — seongje crying, begging, instead of you. pleading for you to stop, just like how you've always done for him. it had you rubbing your thighs together just thinking about it: salty tears spilling from his eyes as you press a gentle kiss to his flustered cheeks, his hips bucking up into you to get some form of relief. seongje's voice would crack, words incoherent in barely strung together sentences as he lost and all ability to think.
"o-oh fuck, baby, p-please—" seongje would whine, thighs twitching as you fed him breadcrumbs of intimacy: your fingers would ghost against his chest, your hips riding him painfully slow, not enough to drive him over the edge. "need more, s-shit. . ."
you'd look at him with hungry eyes, just as he did with you most days — he'd whimper your name, trying so hard to move, but the look on your face would be enough to warn him against doing so.
in the end, you settle for a shirt you’d left behind at seongje’s apartment weeks ago. it’s been sitting there collecting dust, untouched, while you were buried in schoolwork and too busy to come around and get it back.
"i swear it was the right size. . ." you think as you put it on, the cold air making your nipples painfully obvious through the tight white fabric.
seongje would definitely love this shit.
when seongje stirs awake, eyes fluttering open, he's belly up. the room is empty and so is his desk, he notices.
"where the fuck is she?" he mutters to himself, lips smacking in an attempt to moisturise from the cold, dry air in his bedroom. seongje notices your books are stacked neatly on the wood of his table, backpack still hanging behind his door.
you were definitely still in his home.
your boyfriend's heart rate calms. he didn't want to have to check your location if you had left without telling him — you knew he hated when you disappeared without telling him where you'd be going — always sulked when you came back, like the little kid he was.
seongje tries to plant his palms flat against the mattress, but there's a slight resistance at his wrists.
"so cute," he mutters, a sinister smirk tugging at his lips. it’s the laziest knot he’s ever seen. if he didn’t know a thing or two about tying punks up and beating them down after — he might’ve been stumped on how to free himself. unluckily for you, your boyfriend is geum seongje, and he knows plenty about that... for reasons very different from yours.
with a few tugs, the knot loosens, though it still clings around him. he shifts around on the bed, making himself comfortable. seongje's hands are still hidden behind his back to mask the fact that he'd freed himself in less than 10 seconds: didn't want to hurt his girlfriend's precious pride, of course.
seongje smiles lazily, tipping his head back into the pillows as he imagines your shocked expression. he'll let you have the control, curious to see what you'll do with it — he wonders if you'll imitate him. choke him, slap him, bite down on the skin of his collarbones and neck just as he does with yours. a small bunny trying to act all tough and scary, as if he wouldn't, couldn't swallow you whole.
geum seongje feels his dick strain against his briefs at the thought. he'll let you have your 10 minutes of glory, if he can see that pretty face of yours cry extra hard tonight for even thinking about it.
"seongje… you awake?" you step quietly into the bedroom, a soft, innocent smile painted across your face. seongje meets you with a carefully crafted look of faux concern, the kind of worried face he’s learned to mimic all too well.
he exhales, "why the fuck did you tie me up?"
"oh!" your smile widens, and it nearly cracks his act. seongje’s never been much of an actor — least of all when it comes to protecting someone else’s feelings. "yeah. . . aren't you bored of the usual?"
"bored?" your boyfriend raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "you didn't sound bored to me a few nights ago, huh baby?"
your smile morphs into a pout, eyes sparkling as you crawl onto seongje's bed. your boyfriend thinks that shirt hugs you just right, your nipples poking through the fabric: his tongue swipes against the inside of his bottom lip as he looks up to meet your half-lidded gaze.
"can't you just shut up for once, seongje? you look better when you don't talk."
his ears catch on your back talk, and something begins to simmer inside him — a low, steady burn of anger. it’s not just irritation, but the audacity of you daring to throw a line like that at him. sharper, ruder than anything he’s ever heard from you before.
you beam when you notice his eyebrows raising. "that's what i thought."
seongje's jaw twitches, teeth clenching as you climb on top of him: sitting prettily on his lap, your weight makes him sink further into the sheets. "fuck are you doing?"
he's still laid flat on the bed. his instincts scream at him to sit up, flip you over and have his way with you: but he hasn't seen all of what you can give.
he needs a little preview. for future use, of course, should he consider you taking the lead next time — he thinks he'll have to teach you how to tie proper knots if that day were to come.
your hair falls in front of your face as you lean forward, pressing sweet kisses to his neck, tongue swiping against the skin — you move up to his jaw, lips ghosting against his ear, nibbling on it before letting sounds of heavy breathing travel to his eardrums.
seongje's chest heaves, his voice a whisper: "[name], fuck. . . "
"where's the attitude gone, seongje? can't hear you," you press a kiss to the shell of his ear, and he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand at the intimacy.
geum seongje practically feels the blood rushing to his cock at the thought of flipping you over right this second, taking away that little prideful tone in your voice and reducing you to an incoherent mess — you were starting to get out of line.
if you could see the glare in his eyes, seongje's confident you'd be backing off and apologising on your knees — even if you were the most stubborn person he knew — he was sure of that much. always backed down like the obedient girl he taught you to be.
but he decides to hold back a little longer.
when you pull away, his eyes immediately wander back to your breasts.
"not so tough anymore," you smile down at him, fingers gripping at the hem of your fitted shirt and pulling it over your shoulders — you hear seongje's breath hitch seeing you bare, warm light highlighting his favourite parts of you: your ass, thighs, and breasts. "my poor baby."
oh, and your face, of course.
his eyes take their time drinking in the sight of you — your panties are still on, that cute black lace barely censoring your sweet cunt. with the way your back is arched, he can't help but stare.
"fucking brat," he spits, teeth flashing in a cheshire grin that makes your head spin. "aren't you gonna untie me?"
"no, i won't," your hands hold you steady on seongje's chest. you feel his hard-on press against your ass, earning a giggle from you. "you're so impatient. mutt can't wait for his treat?"
oh, you were going to regret that by the end of tonight. seongje was so fucking sure of it: his mind paints a picture of you, face down and ass up as you can only scream apologies. he'll have his hand gripping your hair tight, pushing your pretty face further into the mattress as the sound of your ass meeting his pelvis echoes throughout the room — he hopes the family next door hears.
oh, he hopes the whole fucking neighbourhood does, actually — seongje wanted you to know your place, wanted everyone to see where you really stood: underneath him, begging, saying "sorry, sorry, sorry!". pleading with him to go slower, be more gentle, promising him that you'll never do whatever ticked him off again.
when geum seongje wants something, he will stop at nothing to get it: even if that meant a few tears spilling from your pretty eyes.
"this is your only chance to take that back."
"i'm good," you snicker. your head is giddy from how much fun you're having, finally teasing the teaser — the way his cheeks are flushed, hair messy from shifting his head around to get a better view at you — he looked so good when he wasn't grabbing you by the neck and looking down at you. "remember who's on top of you, geum seongje," you hum, a condescending reminder that sets him on fire.
"you've got a lot of fucking nerve."
seongje can't take anymore disrespect from you. it was starting to make his blood boil, veins bulging slightly on his forehead from how hard his jaw clenched at your little attitude. he swore if he bit down any harder, his teeth would shatter.
"do i?" your smile was sickening, your hips lowering themselves down onto his lap — slowly grinding, his breath hitching every time you shifted your full weight onto him. "what're you gonna do about it?"
"what am i gonna do, huh?" seonge smirks, slowly pulling his hands from behind his back. the tie slips loose onto the bed, and your boyfriend shows off his wrists in your face as if he'd just been released from prison. "you know what i'd do."
your stomach to twist into knots.
one of seongje's hands are quick to grab you by the jaw, the sudden force making you whimper. he brings your face closer to his, dark brown irises piercing through you. "all bark and no bite. and you call me the mutt?"
his husky tone sends chills down your spine.
tears start to prick your waterline. the words are spit out of his mouth like truthful insults, making you feel absolutely mortified. it felt like the power had been completely stripped from you; a reminder that seongje would always be the one holding the leash.
the glint in seongje's eyes spell danger in big, bold letters. you feel humiliated, fearful, and stupid all at once. the one time you think you have geum seongje wrapped around your finger, and it's completely backfired.
geum seongje's sitting up one moment, the next he's shoving you off of him. his hand wraps around your neck, pushing you down on the bed, touch harsh and rough with no regard to bruising: his hands grip your hips, flipping you over so your ass is pointed to the ceiling and your face is pressed against the sheets.
"i'm s-sorry, seongje, wait—" you mutter into the fabric, too embarrassed to speak up.
you're somewhat glad you can't see his face in this position, fully confident that he's wearing that evil grin on his face.
"what was that?" seongje's hand grabs a handful of your hair at the roots, pulling your head upwards so his lips could meet the shell of your ear. "where's all that attitude gone, baby? you were going on and on just a minute ago — do i need to refresh your memory?"
"n-no," you whimper, "seongje—"
seongje chuckles lowly, breath tickling the back of your neck. "should just fuck you 'till you get your head set straight, huh? would that make you listen?"
"y-yeah," you nod feverishly before seongje shoves your head back down and into the sheets, and palm still full of your hair to make sure you don't squirm — he hates when you move around too much.
you feel his fingers prod at your folds through your fabric, clearly frantic as pulls them to the side to get better access. it takes a few seconds before you feel his swollen tip twitch against your entrance, already sticky from his own precum.
you almost smile to yourself at the tiny silver lining of this ridiculous situation — geum seongje was turned on from being tied up. it's not long, though, before your lover opens his mouth to speak again, reminding you of where that very action landed you.
"no respect at all, fuck—" he groans, your breathing paused as you feel it slow — seongje's cock is sinking into you with such gentle precision, it makes your skin crawl — soon, the caring hesitance will fade and seongje will have no care in the world, whether you're screaming or begging him to slow down. "you get off on making me mad? is that it? pussy squeezing me so tight, that has to be the reason, hm?"
"s-seongje," you feel him deep inside of you, the stretch almost knocking you out cold — but he doesn't move just yet. "i just wanted t-to. . . get back at you—"
"always so stubborn," and you feel his free hand land a harsh slap to the fat of your ass, and the sting follows immediately. your sobs don't go unnoticed by him, clearly, when you feel him twitch inside of you. it makes your toes curl.
"you should know what's good for you by now," he continues, the grip on your hair eventually being released. you continue to cry: for what exact reason, you're still not sure — the humiliation and regret mixed in a fucked up cocktail, maybe. "you'll be a good girl next time, yeah?"
his hands squeeze your ass, and you can envision the smirk he has on his face hearing you beg for forgiveness, tears staining the white sheets in little patches.
"mmm. . ." half-hearted ass answer. seongje raises an eyebrow at that.
he hasn't moved at all and you were starting to squirm, an attempt at feeling something more than being stuffed full — when seongje realises this, he's landing another harsh slap to your cheeks.
"i'm not fucking moving 'till you say you will," he scoffs in disbelief, shocked at your audacity at chasing a high you didn't deserve. "shit . . . so fuckin' tight." seongje cusses under his breath, almost going unheard by you.
your hips still in fear of earning another spank. you know seongje was a man of his word, especially when it came to you.
"let's try that again, huh? now, what do you say?"
you fall silent. your soft sniffles are getting to him — every nerve in his body tells him to forget about that ordeal, to just fuck you nice and hard until your brain turns to slush — but seongje's very particular about today.
sure, any other day and seongje would be letting you get on top, tie his hands above his head. choke him, blindfolds and all, surrendering himself to you completely — he has to admit he's touched himself to the thought of you squeezing your little fingers around his neck before.
however, something about your actions today sent a message he didn't like. even if seongje let you do as you please to him, his eyes were always telling of these words:
you didn't seem to grasp that concept very well today.
you choke on your words, a sob slipping from your lips that sounds like music to his ears. nevertheless, you continue your sentence when he doesn't give you a second one to follow up. "i'll be a g-good girl, seongje."
"yeah you fucking will," seongje hums in satisfaction, rough palms caressing your ass, gentle touches as if he wasn't set on bruising it seconds before. "my apologetic girl. so quick to say sorry."
you feel dizzy. too stuffed to even string sentences together, every word in your minds feels like a puzzle that you can't get right. he starts to retract his hips agonisingly slow — instinctively, you're pushing yourself back against him, desperate to feel some relief.
"tch." seongje tuts at the messy sight. "who am i fucking kidding. . . you don't mean any of it."
your cheek is flat against the bed, tears staining his sheets. you can see his face through your peripheral: dark gaze locked on you, hair sticking to his forehead, eyebrows furrowed.
god, you wish you meant your apologies — but with the way he's looking at you, you know this can't be the last time. you won't let it.
"just fuck me already, seongje," you blurt out, impatience in your tone. seongje scoffs before taking off his glasses, quick to chuck them to the other side of the bed. "i said i was fucking sorry—"
"making demands? well, if you say so, baby."
he's quick to find a rhythm. the base of his dick meeting the flesh of your ass in intervals that make your back arch, sounds of wet slapping echoing throughout the room. you hear seongje's grunts, breaths hard and heavy as you moan louder with each thrust.
"you get off to this?" he groans, "disobedient little slut."
your eyes roll back shamelessly at the name. seongje's hands find your wrists, quick to restrain you — he uses them to pull you towards him after every thrust, the extra force knocking all the wind from your lungs.
he fucks you like it's the last time he'll ever have you, and you moan his name like it's the only word you know.
"fuuck, s-seongje, oh my god—" you scream, eyes rolling back as his balls kiss your clit with every meeting of your cervix and his tip. you hear seongje chuckle at how easily you lose yourself with him: it never gets old. "jus' like that, oh—"
"think you deserve to cum?" seongje asks, and something in you knows it's a rhetorical question: the bastard just wants to shut you down, deny you in hopes you'd beg him. "acting too greedy with an attitude like yours, huh?"
lucky day for him, it seems.
"please, oh— p-please, seongje," you repeat like a mantra, mind hazy with the premature hope of cumming all over him; with seongje, you knew it would never be that easy. it's almost embarrassing how fast you feel it coming, thighs tightening as you brace yourself: your orgasm could hit you at any moment with the way geum seongje is pounding you, poking and prodding at just the right angles that make your toes curl.
your sobs fill his ears and it only feeds his insatiable hunger for you. he's fucking into you like he has something to prove, desperate need to control you when has barely any himself — if you moaned his name one more time in that sweet voice of yours, he thinks he might empty himself into you in milliseconds.
"say you're sorry one more time," seongje murmurs, too far gone himself, "and mean it. really fuckin—"
slap. the sound of your ass meeting his pelvis interrupts him. "fucking mean it, yeah?"
your walls clench tight around him as his sultry voice travel from your ear straight to your pussy, throbbing and so achingly desperate to cum.
"f-fuuck, i'm s-sorry—" you whine, "i'm so sorry, s-seongje!"
every apology that rolls off that pretty tongue of yours make something stir inside him. he can't get enough of your tear-stained face and fucked out expression taking his word as law, apologising like your life was on the line just so you could cum all over him.
you feel yourself edging closer and closer to the edge. you anticipate an orgasm so intense it could have you shaking and sobbing, like a large truck crashing straight into you.
you can't help but feel like that, when the way seongje's fucking you right now is so different, so sinful and carnal. like he was ready to eat you whole if you gave the green light.
"i'm g'na fucking cum," you scream, "f-fuuuck, yeah—"
seongje's pace slows, but the force at which he slams his hips into yours only intensifies. you feel his cock swell as he spends longer inside your walls with each thrust, soft moans leaving his lips as his hands push your wrists down, effectively causing your back to arch into a position that makes you shake.
it's earth shattering. you can't even say anything, lewd moans filling the room and probably assaulting your neighbour's ears — you're thanking the stars that his parents weren't home, but you knew seongje wouldn't care if they were regardless.
"my pretty slut," seonge smiles at the sight of your slick running down your thighs, leaving a wet puddle of fluid on his sheets under where his dick and your cunt meet. it's almost artistic. "cum for me, fuck, i'm close too—"
your mind goes blank, aside from the high that you were chasing. your hips move on their own, fucking back against him like you wanted him to fill you up as fast as possible: seongje moans sinfully at the contact, his eyes laser focused on how you look so perfect when you're just as needy as him.
"c-cum inside, seongje, fill me up,"
he wouldn't have it any other way.
seongje's losing any and all control with every sound you make. "o-oh fuck, [name], i'm fucking cumming—"
you can't formulate any response. any words falling from your lips wouldn't make any sense even if you did, so you do the only thing you can: lose yourself.
"g'na cum too, shit, baby—" you whimper, your vision going white as seongje's pace begins to falter. before long, seongje's letting out the nastiest fucking moan while you're spasming all over his length.
"o-oh fuck, yeaaah. . ." he groans, grinning at the sight of you sobbing and coming undone right beneath him — where you've always been, and always will be. "so fucking gorgeous."
it's disastrous when you two cum together. his cock bottoming out inside your cunt as if he could go any deeper, seongje pulls you impossibly closer to him.
it's enough to make you scream his name, and for him to loosen the grip on your wrists — seongje feels you squirm and writhe as he empties his warm load into you, and he feels his dick being covered in your cum.
his heart swells at the sight of you collapsing onto the bed, ass still pointed sky high.
"sorry now?" seongje huffs, chest still heaving in attempts to catch his breath. he doesn't pull out, too busy admiring the wet mess you two made at the small space your bodies met.
"mm. . ." you hum, too tired to respond just yet.
seongje snickers. "if i don't get a yes, we're going round two."
when you don't answer and instead wiggle your hips against his, seongje plants a firm smack against your ass, earning a small giggle from you. "this was what you wanted, huh?"
the laugh that you give him is lazy, but genuine. you roll your eyes before responding to him: "10 minute break?"
seongje squeezes your right asscheek tight, which makes you smile. "fucking brat."
whoops.. so tired!!! ignore the half finished sentences if there were any.. did a lot of back and forth with this one 😭😭😭 ill try to proofread when i have the time grr