contains: soft dom!jake, vampire!jake, sub!reader, transmasc!reader, common terms for afab genitalia used, needy jake, he's down horrendous fr(like actually obsessed), possessive jake, mentions of blood(duh), mentions of death(sorta. reader has a bit of an internal struggle), slight dubcon due to alcohol consumption, choking, biting, hickies, unprotected sex(don't.), multiple orgasms, roommates to lovers(?)
~
Sum: Jake had been your roommate for some time. Always sweet. Always kind. Always slightly off. What happens when you find out that the man you've been steadily getting closer to reveals that he's not only stupidly obsessed with you, but a vampire?
Your roommate had been… off.
He always had been, to be fair, but lately it felt more noticeable. There was something off-putting sitting underneath all of his gentleness, something deeper clawing desperately to climb up out of him. He hid it well, naturally. His attentiveness wasn't a facade by any means - but you'd be blind to not see that something else coexisted within him.
You knew better than to question - deciding it wasn't worth threatening the peace between you. For all you knew, it could be a sensitive topic. So you didn't push, just treated him like normal. Friendly, comfortable, familiar.
You'd just returned from a night out with your friends, very slightly tipsy as the last bits of alcohol still held a haze at the edges of your vision. Feeling fuzzy and warm. You hummed softly to a song stuck in your head as you stripped free of your jacket, hanging it up on your way to your room. You stopped in the dim hallway when you noticed Jake's bedroom door sitting ajar. With a quiet knock, you gently pushed it open.
"Hey, you eat tonight?" The words came out casual. Eyes searching before falling on his frame, sat at his desk with his back to you.
Your presence seemed to startle him - shoving his phone down onto his desk as he sat up a little straighter, pivoting his chair around to face you. The intensity in his eyes caught you off guard, a flash of something unrecognizably dark before it was gone. Easily replaced with that gentle softness in his expression.
"Uh, yeah." He finally responded, easing back into his chair a little. Tension faded slightly, but his eyes remained on you. His gaze always seemed to linger, something you could never place. "Have fun?"
"Mhm, went to a couple bars. Got a little tipsy, did a little dancing. Y'know, the typical Friday night." You say lightly, not missing the incessant tap of his foot against the carpeted floor. "You look tense."
"It's nothing " Jake's response is too quick. Too void of his usual softness.
You stare at him for a long moment, eyes assessing the little details of his face in the dim light of his room.
"Okay…" You finally respond. You know it's probably better not to push, and honestly? You're still a little too buzzed to bother.
"Imma go chill, then." You turn to leave, to remove yourself from the threshold of his room.
Before you can fully turn around, everything tilts. It takes you a beat too long to realize what's happening - Jake pulling you in and shoving you up against the wall with a force that knocks the air from your lungs. How did he even get up that fast? Your mind reels, trying to catch up to what's happening, to recover from having the wind completely knocked from you.
"Jake, what the fuck-"
You're cut off before you can finish. His lips crash onto yours. It's not gentle, far from sweet. It's rough and hungry. All tongue and teeth - and that's when you feel it.
Teeth.
His canines. Impossibly sharp as they graze against your bottom lip with each press of his own. How they threaten to pierce your tongue.
The intensity of everything has you panicked - conflicted between fighting and sinking into it. Jake doesn't let up, if anything he doubles down. You push at his chest as he presses you further against the wall, overwhelmed by the onslaught.
He finally pulls back when he remembers you need to breathe, hands cupping your face and keeping you close. He looks frenzied, starving - like something has taken over the gentleness in him you've always known.
"I can't," He pants, body pressing against yours to keep you trapped between him and the wall "Can't fuckin' hold back anymore."
His hands brace on the wall on either side of you, then. Caging you in as he begins trailing kisses along your jaw, down to your neck. It's sloppy, messy and needy. Like he's been holding onto control so long and it's finally starting to crack.
You feel so conflicted, mind still racing at the fact that your roommate is a fucking vampire as his canines graze over your pulse point. It makes you whine - sending an electric jolt through you. Your hand instinctively fists into his hair, other gripping helplessly at his shirt where it finds purchase at his waist.
"Jake. Fuck, slow down." Your breath hitches as he sucks a mark into the flesh below your ear.
You should be asking questions. Pushing him away and putting distance between you. Yet you make no moves to do so.
"You had people all over you. Can smell it. How they wanted you." His tone is anything but gentle. Possessive and strained. His hands find your waist, pulling you against him harshly. You can feel how hard he is, then, and it does nothing to help your rapidly crumbling resolve.
"Can't stand it. Knowin' someone else was all over you. All over what's mine."
It makes you gasp, his words hitting you like a ton of bricks. You feel hazy - unsure if it's the alcohol or him anymore. The feeling of his teeth on your skin has you feeling electric, adrenaline coursing heavy through your veins. The thought that he could tear you apart, right here in his room, it sends a disgusting thrill through you so intense it makes you shudder. He could eat you alive - sink his fangs in and rip you apart.
It makes you nauseous, the sick heat it sends pooling low in your stomach. Right on the line of danger, your life effectively in his hands.
"Not like I fucked any of them." You finally remember to respond - voice coming out wrecked. It's embarrassing, how quickly you crumble.
"Doesn't matter," He grits, voice straining with the tiny sliver of restraint he's holding onto so desperately. He finally lifts his head to look at you, pupils blown wide.
"Need to make you mine. For good. Need you to know it,"
He's kissing you again, groaning into your mouth as he grinds against you. It makes your head spin, nerves alight with pleasure and thrill. You're helpless to the way you give in under him - unsure you'd even want to stop him if you could.
Jake's cold hands shove up under your shirt, a shudder wracking through you when the chill hits your bare skin. He breaks away to pull the fabric up over your head in one smooth, aggressive motion, a noise forced out of you as he pushes your back against the cold wall. His eyes linger, gaze swallowing you whole as he stares as if staking his claim with his eyes alone. It's undoing - the way he takes you apart with just his eyes.
"Jake…" You say his name again. A plea you aren't even sure what for. His eyes snap up to meet yours, something so hungry in his dilated pupils it makes you squirm.
His tongue drags over his fangs, slow and sinful. His eyes flit down to your neck, and he swallows hard. He can hear your racing pulse, the way your heart hammers against your ribs.
"Need to taste you," He dips down, pressing dizzingly soft kisses to your neck. Such a sharp contrast from his frenzy just moments before.
"Promise I'll only take a little. Please."
His voice is nearly a whine, desperate as he sucks another hickey into your flesh. His accent is thicker, words coming out in a desperate drawl as his hands grip at your hips, straining with the control to hold himself back.
His fangs graze against your racing pulse, and you're cursing at yourself for the way it makes you want it. Cursing at your terrible lack of self preservation. It was stupid to let him. Stupid to even entertain the idea. Profoundly stupid.
Even still, your hand slides into his hair as you tilt your head - fully exposing your throat to him. Giving him the permission he needs to wreck you.
"Try not to kill me, yeah?" It's only half a joke.
Jake growls, wasting no time as his hand comes up to fist into your hair, forcing you to crane your neck - keeping you exactly where he needs you.
His fangs sink in. It's searing - red-hot and too much. A sharp, raw sting as his canines pierce right through your flesh with ease. You whine, and he fully moans against you as your blood rushes into his mouth. You feel the spill of it, boiling and wet.
You cling to him, grip bordering on painful in his hair as you shudder against him. With each gulp, you feel your head getting lighter. Your nerves feel fiery, like they're exploding under his touch as his free hand slides around to your lower back to pull you against him - keeping you trapped. Prey to do with as he pleases.
Blood spills past his lips, hot as it cascades down from your neck to your chest.
You weakly push at his chest when it starts to get too much - when you start to feel like you're getting too close to your vision blacking out.
"Jake… N'more."
Your voice snaps him out of his frenzy. His fangs slide free with a stinging ease, and he sucks gently at the spot where he just fed from you - both to calm the bleeding and savour your taste.
"You taste fuckin' perfect." He groans, head dipping further to lick up the blood on your skin in a slow, maddening motion that makes you whine. Then he's pulling you into another kiss, surrounding you with the taste of your metallic blood on his tongue.
It only serves to ruin you more. You feel hot, heavy, vulnerable. A heat pools deep in your gut, paired with a twisting nausea in response to how turned on you are.
When you pull away for air, Jake looks just as much of a mess as you. It makes you press your thighs together - how good he looks with his kiss swollen lips tinted red with your blood. He notices - because of course he does. A hunger in his eyes that feels undoing, like it's stripping you bare before he's even properly touched you.
"Wanna make you mine." He drawls out, words nearly slurring together as he presses feverish kisses along your jaw. "Let me have you. Please."
The way he says it, desperate yet firm all wrapped in one. It's a plea but also a command - a dominance that has your stomach flipping. It makes your knees feel weak under you, makes your head swim. Makes you realize that you'd give him anything he could ever want from you. Even if it spelled your death.
"Okay…" Your voice feels outside of yourself, yet completely right. He doesn't leave you waiting, effortlessly moving the both of you from the cold wall to his bed. He shoves you down, leaving searing kisses along your body as he climbs over you. His fangs nip at your skin as he goes - little love bites that sometimes knick just a bit too roughly, leaving tiny pinpricks that you're anything but upset about.
Once he's fully on top of you, his hands start working on undoing your jeans. Your stomach drops with a sudden bout of self consciousness, and your hands fly to his wrists to stop him. His eyes snap up to your face, momentarily yanked from his desperation as he searches for what's wrong.
He gives you the silence to speak, hands paused where they sit with his fingers hooked around your belt. He looks wrecked - barely holding himself back but you know he'd stop in an instant if you told him to, even if he needs you so bad he feels like he could die.
"You know I don't have…" Your words trail off, suddenly feeling caught in your throat under his intense gaze. You felt stupid for feeling so self conscious all of a sudden - you knew he knew. You were open about it from the start, how your body differed from his. Yet right now, caged beneath him on his bed, you felt a need to make sure.
Jake blinked at you, eyes shifting over your expression before he leaned forward, bringing his face so close to yours it felt suffocating. His eyes lingered on your lips, then locked onto yours.
"Oh, baby. You know I don't care. I'm still gonna fuck you so good you can't think."
His words made you shudder, heat rushing down your spine. His voice was deep, thick with confidence even when he still sounded so affected by what was taking place. And that damn accent. Thick and hot in every word he spoke.
He smirks, clearly satisfied with the reaction his words got out of you. With a low hum, he got back to what he was doing. His hands finally got your belt undone, making quick work of your pants before he pulled them down and off of your frame. You were exposed beneath him, then. Feeling vulnerable being the only one fully undressed. Even more so with the way his eyes took you in, that hungry look in his gaze making your stomach flip. He really did look like he could eat you alive.
"Not fair," You mutter, soft noise pushing past your lips when he stops you from closing your legs with a hand on your knee.
"Yeah?" With a low chuckle, he finally removes his shirt. You're not even ashamed of the way you stare. He's gorgeous. Toned and tan and perfect. Jake presses a quick kiss to your lips before he's sliding off of the bed to shed himself of his own jeans.
Your breath catches in your throat, finally seeing him fully unclothed. He's unreal, too perfect. Painfully hard and throbbing - your mind going haywire with the fact that it's because of you. Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest - and you're way too aware of the fact that he can hear the way your pulse races.
Jake joins you back on the bed, taking his time as he presses tender kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. Each kiss pulls quiet little noises from you, a hand coming down to grip at his hair as he sucks a mark into your skin. He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and gaze heavy. He makes sure you're watching him as his tongue soothes over the mark he left.
"You're so beautiful, you know? Perfect for me."
Then he bites.
The pain is instant, making you cry out as your head falls back onto the mattress. It eases into a hot, dull ache as he drinks from you again, warmth gushing into his mouth as he moans against you. He revels in the way you grip at his hair, a dull ache at the base of his skull. The way your thighs tremble as he takes from you - just controlled enough to know when to stop.
You could barely think - overwhelmed with the way the pain felt good. With how good he looked between your legs. It made you throb with a need you don't think you've ever felt, the ache between your thighs bordering on painful.
"Fuck," You hissed when he finally pulled free, hips jerking without your permission when his tongue presses over the wounds he's left in your skin. The sight of your blood on his face.
"I've wanted you so bad," He breathes, thumb pressing intently against your clit. It makes you whine, nerves alight and sensitive. He rubs tight, slow circles against you, smiling against your skin as it pulls more of those pretty noises out of you. "Thought about you like this so many times. About how pretty you'd sound for me."
Your breath catches in your throat, the teasing pressure he's giving you making you feel dizzy.
"And now you're all mine," It's not a question, not something up for discussion. He means it with a certainty that sits heavy in your chest. A feeling that makes the ache inside you overwhelming.
"Please," You can't believe you're already begging for him - at the same time you don't even care.
"Love it when you beg," He murmurs, trailing open mouthed kisses along your body as he makes his way up. His hands brace on the mattress beneath you, lips and teeth attacking your neck with feverish kisses as he presses his hips down against your own. The feeling of his cock dragging through your slick folds makes both of you moan, hands gripping at his biceps as he crashes his lips against yours with a dizzying kiss.
You whine into his mouth, hips desperately grinding up to chase the friction you're aching for. He pulls away with a broken sound, pressing his forehead against yours as his hips press down again.
"Tell me how bad you want me. Need to hear you say it." Jake's voice is desperate, a hand coming down to slide along your throat. He watches the way you swallow thickly - how you can't stop the needy little sounds anymore. "You're so fucking wet, babyboy. Your body is so desperate for me."
His lips ghost over your ear, voice dropping lower as the head of his cock pushes at your aching core - never pressing in. Not yet.
"Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you."
Your breath catches on a whine, breaking apart beneath him without him even trying. "Fuck, Jake," His name tumbles past your lips before you can even think about it, nails pressing into his arms as he holds your gaze.
"Please fuck me - please. Need you so bad it hurts,"
The last bit of his thinning resolve snaps.
Jake thrusts into you in one quick, mind numbing motion. The intensity is instant - stretching you open, filling you so full it pushes any thoughts you had left out of your mind. All you can possibly think about is Jake, and how having him inside you feels right.
"Oh my god," Your words come out in a gasp, body struggling to adjust to the delicious stretch of his cock inside you. Jake does no better above you, struggling with the urge to absolutely plow you into the mattress as he gives you a moment to adjust. His face is buried in your neck, leaving messy kisses against your skin as he starts a slow rock of his hips against you. He groans, hands gripping at the sheets beside your head at the filthy way you clench around him.
"You feel so fuckin' perfect. So tight - squeezin' me like that," he whines, and it's the best sound you've ever heard. Your thighs press against his hips, and you're trembling. Everything feels like too much and not enough all at once, a sensation that only ramps up when he starts actually fucking into you. The sounds between you are filthy. Wet and the distinct sound of skin on skin as he thrusts deep into you.
You can't say anything, reduced to broken moans and whimpers as the thrust of his hips quickly grows in intensity. Rough, deep thrusts that have his cock dragging against your walls in a way that makes you cry out.
Jake fucks you like you've always been his. Like he needs to remind you that you are. His hand grips at your hip tight enough to bruise, other threatening to rip the sheets with the way he holds onto them beside your head. He's leaned over you, unashamed of the whines spilling past his lips. His eyes never leave your face, obsessed with the way your body reacts as he takes you apart - as he makes his unmoving claim.
"Fuck - you're so good for me. My good boy," It makes you arch off the bed, the way he talks to you. The way he sounds so wrecked yet still holds you down. His dominance is a gentle yet all consuming thing, and its going to swallow you whole.
"Wan' hear you say it. Say you're mine." His words come out slurred, a muttered drawl as he fucks into you harshly. He's smiling, lazy and unashamed. He has you right where he's always wanted you - and it makes him ecstatic.
"I'm - fuck - I'm yours, Jake," It leaves you broken, nails clawing at his back as that coil in your lower stomach twists impossibly tighter.
As if he can tell - because of course he can - his hand moves from your hip to rub tight, quick circles against your throbbing clit. It makes your body jolt, the added stimulation sending you tumbling towards that high fast.
"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock." He sounds desperate, like he needs it just as bad. His thrusts have grown erratic, chasing the release you're both so close to.
His words shudder through you, feeling like heat and rolling electricity through every nerve. Every slam of his hips has the head of his cock hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars. It's all too good. Every touch, every sound he makes. The way he looks above you.
You're helpless to the way your orgasm crashes through you.
It feels white-hot and blinding - your head thrown back as his name forces past your lips in a broken moan.
"That's it - fuck you're squeezing me so fuckin' tight," Jake doesn't stop, uncoordinated thrusts chasing his own quickly approaching release. He grips at your hips harshly, holding you down as the pleasure turns to overstimulation. You're shaking under him, weak little whines all you can manage out as your hands helplessly push at his lower abdomen. You don't even want him to stop, body acting on its own against the overstimulating onslaught of pleasure.
"I know, babyboy. M'almost there." He grits out, one of his hands coming up to close around your throat. Not enough pressure to restrict, but certainly enough to add to the way he's already pushing you towards the edge again.
"Jake," You cry out, walls clenching around him like a vice with each bruising thrust. "Can't - fuck -"
"Yes you can, pretty, just a little more for me." His fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck, feeling the way your pulse hammers under his hand as the haze quickly sets over you from the way he cuts off the blood flow to your brain. It's the last little bit of intensity you need to send you crashing to your second orgasm - whining high and desperate.
"Fuck - good boy. So fuckin' good." He's slamming into you one final time, then. Burying his cock deep into you as he cums with a broken moan. You feel every bit of it as he fills you nearly to the brim, hot and full.
You're both panting, trying to get your bearings as he leans back over your smaller frame to kiss you. Unhurried and sloppy. Your brain feels like mush, falling into the gentle rhythm of his kisses.
"You're amazing," Jake murmurs against your lips, pleasure-drunk smile on his face as he soothes his hands over your bruised hips.
You laugh, quiet and breathy. "And you're insane."
You'll unpack everything that just happened later - right now you let yourself float. Enjoy the way the two of you stay like that for awhile. Gentle kisses and soft touches as Jake brings you back down.
When he finally pulls out, slow and over-sensitive, you whine quietly at the loss. It makes him smile, eyes romaning over your body to take in what he's done to you. Hickies, bite marks, his release spilling from your aching core.
"Mm, could have you like this all the time." He hums, thumb brushing over the two little puncture wounds on your inner thigh. It makes you jolt just a little, the spot sore. "Sorry," He says sheepishly.
"It's okay, I liked it." You give him a gentle smile, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burn from the way he's looking at you so intently. "More than I probably should've."
That earns you a breathy laugh, Jake looking absolutely smug as he shifts to grab a few tissues from his nightstand. He cleans you up gently, tossing them away once he's done.
When he dips down between your legs, it sends a pulse of heat through your spent body "Jake, wait,"
"Shh," He holds your leg steady, leaving a quick kiss on your skin before his tongue presses over the bite he'd left earlier. It makes you shiver, the ache a dull sensation firing beneath your skin. He gives you a smug look as his tongue laves over you, licking up the blood thats since dried on your skin.
"Mm, just cleanin' you up." He hums, working his way up your body with soft little kisses till he reaches your neck to do the same.
It earns him a little whine, the hot press of his tongue against your sensitive skin. "Yeah," You shudder out, hands smoothing over his arms.
"You're so cute like this… All sensitive and pliant." He presses a kiss to your lips, something soft yet still distinctly possessive in his eyes as he looks at you.
"Your fault I'm like this."
"Better be." It's a gentle response, but given everything that's lead up to it you know what it means. It has your stomach fluttering, feeling that heat creeping up to your face again.
Jake looks at you for awhile, before he's moving to lay down beside you with a sigh. He pulls you against him by the hip - the coolness of his skin soothing the heat of your own. His face nuzzles into your neck, holding you close with arms wrapped around the small of your waist.
Neither of you say anything for awhile - letting yourself relax in the comfortable quiet between you. It still felt a little strange, a little foreign. New. You didn't find yourself feeling uneasy or unsafe. Just comfortable. Your fingers played with his messy hair, feeling soothed by the continuous pressure of his hand rubbing slow across your back.
°°°°°°
You don't remember when you fell asleep.
The first thing you register as you wake is a cool pressure surrounding you. Then the ache in your muscles.
You process somewhere in your fuzzy mind that the pressure you feel is Jake. Skin on skin. The familiar scent of his cologne in your lungs.
Your eyes flutter open slowly, squinting as you adjust to the light of early noon filtering in through slightly open curtains. You're immediately met with the heart aching sight of Jake. He's already looking at you - gaze soft and sickeningly sweet. His fingers brush messy hair away from your eyes, ghosting featherlight over your cheek.
"Morning, handsome."
You don't respond with words, just a soft hum of acknowledgement and a gentle smile as you shuffle a little closer to him. Your eyes crawl over his features, something about him feeling so inhuman - breathtakingly so. He has such a gentle beauty about him, yet something underneath that feels dangerous. Like a natural born predator, dangerously alluring - and you guess that he is, after all. A vampire. That word sits in your mind, mulling over it as you watch the way he watches you back. His lips quirk up just slightly, the quietest change in his expression.
"You're staring."
"You're just really pretty," You respond quietly, shifting a little where you lay on your side.
He smiles, "There's somethin' else on your mind though."
"Just," You pause, thinking for a moment on the right words before you continue, "This is a lot. You're… a lot."
"Not in a bad way, I hope." He laughs softly, tugging you closer by the waist.
Your hand comes up, then, knuckles brushing his cheek. His eyes flutter at the contact, pretty long lashes brushing against his cheekbones.
"I don't think so…" You lock eyes for a long moment, before your eyes follow the movement as you brush your thumb along his plush bottom lip - still faintly stained with your blood.
Jake doesn't say anything, just lets you do as you please. Let's his lips part when you press down gently on his bottom lip. You're met with exactly what you were expecting. A perfect set of teeth, two razor snap canines. Fangs that bit into you and made you feel something you didn't know was possible the night before.
"What's goin' through that pretty head?" He smiles when your eyes flit up to his own, "Your heart's racing."
"Just making sure I wasn't hallucinating." You respond with a quiet laugh, letting him hover over you as he lays you down on your back.
"Not at all, baby." His voice drops an octave, trailing featherlight kisses along your throat. He nips gently at your skin just to get a reaction out of you - a satisfied hum in his throat at the cute little noise you make.
"Never lettin' you go," The volume of his voice is soft, but the intention in his words is loud. All the possessiveness from the night before wasn't something that came out in the thrill of the moment.
It was real. Raw.
He's pressed against you, still naked bodies impossibly close. His tongue laves over the healing bite he'd left hours earlier, and you bite back a noise as you hide your face in his shoulder.
Jake's hands roam freely against your bare skin, pulling your leg up to hook over his hip. It makes you gasp, that familiar warmth starting to pool low once again. He made you feel breathless. A thrill and an ache all at once. Gentle yet all-consuming.
He presses a kiss right over your racing pulse, possessive and sickeningly sweet.
pretty tame compared to other things I've written (and have yet to post oop) also much shorter than my usual stuff!! saw an edit that made me go crazy, blacked out and then this was here so lmao. enjoy <3
"Hee, I can't,"
Your voice is a foreign sound to you, high and desperate. Your thighs burn, hips grinding down helplessly against your boyfriend's thigh. There's a warm, damp spot darkening the denim of his jeans, fabric soaked through showing the extent of your arousal.
"You can, baby. And you will." His voice is sweet, such a contrast to the way he continues to push you closer and closer to the edge. His hands are on your hips, guiding the overstimulating roll of your hips. You've already come once, and he was determined to coax another out of you. Your hands clung to the front of his shirt, a desperate whine forcing it's way past your lips as your forehead falls onto his shoulder. The friction is delicious, bordering on painful. You don't stop, chasing the high that Heeseung is set on pulling you to. Your hips jerk at the feeling of his teeth at your neck, working another mark into soft flesh.
"Fuck." You gasp, feeling him smile against your skin. He's painfully hard, still clothed cock pressed against your knee where it braces into the mattress. Each rock of your hips gives him just enough pressure to satiate his own ache, but not enough to push him near the edge. He's not done with you yet, and he has no intentions of cumming until he's gotten at least one more out of you.
"That's it," His lips brush your ear, hands coaxing you to grind down into him harder. "Look so pretty coming undone just from this."
His voice makes you whine, it's low and dangerously smooth. Maddeningly composed for how hard he is.
"So fuckin' close, Hee." You barely manage out, movements getting sloppier as that familiar coil tightens inside you.
"Yeah? You gon' give me another?" His voice is sinful, leading you closer to the ledge you're dangerously close to tipping over.
You can't respond with words, a broken moan slipping past your lips before you can stop it as his hand fists into your hair, pulling your head up to meet his eyes. He looks close to snapping, careful composure slipping at the sight of what he's doing to you.
"Come on, baby. Be good and cum for me, yeah?"
It makes you cry out. The way his voice sends an electric heat of pleasure straight through you, sweet and dominating all in one. He holds your head in place, unable to look away from him as the overwhelming build up inside you winds tighter and tighter.
And then it snaps.
A particular harsh roll of your hips servers just the right amount of pressure to tip you over the edge with the most pathetic noise you've ever heard come out of your mouth. It makes your hips stutter, movements becoming sloppy and uncoordinated as he guides you through it.
"That's it. Such a good pet." He cooes, finally letting you slow your hips to a stop when you whine from the pain of overstimulation. "Always being so good for me."
He leaves soft kisses across your face, hands soothing over your aching thighs. It makes you smile, the way he's always so, so sweet with you - even when he's absolutely wrecking you. Even when he's so hard you can feel him throbbing against you. You whine a little when he kisses you, sloppy and slow. You melt straight into it, arms snaking around his neck as your bare chest presses to his.
Heeseung doesn't pull away till the need for air becomes too nagging for both of you, lingering close. You feel fuzzy, clinging onto him for stability as you recover.
"Mm. Not done with you yet, pretty." He murmurs against your lips, both hands bracing under your thighs before he's shifting to put you on the mattress beneath him. It nearly takes the breath out of you - how good he looks above you. Caging you in beneath him. His shirt comes off with a quick pull, and then he's on you. Lips pressing against your neck, wet, harsh kisses trailing along your skin.
You arch into his touch, hands roaming down your body and it feels like fire. A blaze beneath your skin with every lingering touch he presses into you. Your fingers claw into his back, just enough for him to feel it as he sucks a hickey into the skin of your collarbone. You can feel him smile against you, reveling in the soft groan it pulls past his lips.
You hear the sound of his belt coming undone next, the soft clink of metal. It sends another wave of need rushing through you, aching for what you've been craving all night. What he's been dying to give you.
You know the night is far from over - and you also know that you're ready and willing to take whatever he gives you.
pretty tame compared to other things I've written (and have yet to post oop) also much shorter than my usual stuff!! saw an edit that made me go crazy, blacked out and then this was here so lmao. enjoy <3
"Hee, I can't,"
Your voice is a foreign sound to you, high and desperate. Your thighs burn, hips grinding down helplessly against your boyfriend's thigh. There's a warm, damp spot darkening the denim of his jeans, fabric soaked through showing the extent of your arousal.
"You can, baby. And you will." His voice is sweet, such a contrast to the way he continues to push you closer and closer to the edge. His hands are on your hips, guiding the overstimulating roll of your hips. You've already come once, and he was determined to coax another out of you. Your hands clung to the front of his shirt, a desperate whine forcing it's way past your lips as your forehead falls onto his shoulder. The friction is delicious, bordering on painful. You don't stop, chasing the high that Heeseung is set on pulling you to. Your hips jerk at the feeling of his teeth at your neck, working another mark into soft flesh.
"Fuck." You gasp, feeling him smile against your skin. He's painfully hard, still clothed cock pressed against your knee where it braces into the mattress. Each rock of your hips gives him just enough pressure to satiate his own ache, but not enough to push him near the edge. He's not done with you yet, and he has no intentions of cumming until he's gotten at least one more out of you.
"That's it," His lips brush your ear, hands coaxing you to grind down into him harder. "Look so pretty coming undone just from this."
His voice makes you whine, it's low and dangerously smooth. Maddeningly composed for how hard he is.
"So fuckin' close, Hee." You barely manage out, movements getting sloppier as that familiar coil tightens inside you.
"Yeah? You gon' give me another?" His voice is sinful, leading you closer to the ledge you're dangerously close to tipping over.
You can't respond with words, a broken moan slipping past your lips before you can stop it as his hand fists into your hair, pulling your head up to meet his eyes. He looks close to snapping, careful composure slipping at the sight of what he's doing to you.
"Come on, baby. Be good and cum for me, yeah?"
It makes you cry out. The way his voice sends an electric heat of pleasure straight through you, sweet and dominating all in one. He holds your head in place, unable to look away from him as the overwhelming build up inside you winds tighter and tighter.
And then it snaps.
A particular harsh roll of your hips servers just the right amount of pressure to tip you over the edge with the most pathetic noise you've ever heard come out of your mouth. It makes your hips stutter, movements becoming sloppy and uncoordinated as he guides you through it.
"That's it. Such a good pet." He cooes, finally letting you slow your hips to a stop when you whine from the pain of overstimulation. "Always being so good for me."
He leaves soft kisses across your face, hands soothing over your aching thighs. It makes you smile, the way he's always so, so sweet with you - even when he's absolutely wrecking you. Even when he's so hard you can feel him throbbing against you. You whine a little when he kisses you, sloppy and slow. You melt straight into it, arms snaking around his neck as your bare chest presses to his.
Heeseung doesn't pull away till the need for air becomes too nagging for both of you, lingering close. You feel fuzzy, clinging onto him for stability as you recover.
"Mm. Not done with you yet, pretty." He murmurs against your lips, both hands bracing under your thighs before he's shifting to put you on the mattress beneath him. It nearly takes the breath out of you - how good he looks above you. Caging you in beneath him. His shirt comes off with a quick pull, and then he's on you. Lips pressing against your neck, wet, harsh kisses trailing along your skin.
You arch into his touch, hands roaming down your body and it feels like fire. A blaze beneath your skin with every lingering touch he presses into you. Your fingers claw into his back, just enough for him to feel it as he sucks a hickey into the skin of your collarbone. You can feel him smile against you, reveling in the soft groan it pulls past his lips.
You hear the sound of his belt coming undone next, the soft clink of metal. It sends another wave of need rushing through you, aching for what you've been craving all night. What he's been dying to give you.
You know the night is far from over - and you also know that you're ready and willing to take whatever he gives you.
the way i want fem!minho to manhandle me.. i just know she takes what she pleases and has zero problem making sure that’s the case. hold me in place and use my face as a grinding toy,, IDCCC
contains: soft dom!heeseung, sub!reader, 8th member!reader, idol!reader, trans!reader, common terms for afab genitalia used, kissing, so much kissing, lots of marking (don't hurt em now heeseung), biting, friends to lovers!, angst to smut!, down bad hee, unprotected sex (wrap it up), lots of pet names (pretty boy, baby, babyboy, puppy), lemme know if I miss anythin!
this is so terribly self indulgent, but yay first full fic I can actually post!!
You hate him.
That's what you tell yourself, over and over again, as you angrily clean the kitchen of your shared apartment. Ignoring the incessant ringtone of your phone as it vibrates on the counter, your movements aggressive. Another argument, pointless and unnecessarily hurtful because Heeseung always has a way of saying exactly whatll get under your skin.
You were on vacation, allotted time to spend in your own home. Safe to say it was already going terribly. With a frustrated sigh you snatch your phone from the counter, leaning against it with a soft thud. Your notifications consist of several messages, mostly from Heeseung making some attempt to explain himself. You ignore them, opting to respond to Jake asking if the two of you were okay. Of course Heeseung told him, he always does. Dropping your phone back onto the counter, an exasperated sigh leaves you as your fingers card through your hair. A few beats pass of you staring blankly at the tiled floor before the sound of the front door opening startles you back to the present. You're immediately agitated again, that familiar tinge of anger prickling under your skin.
"Hey," Heeseung speaks as he enters the kitchen, looking just as frustrated as you. "You seriously just left like that?"
You scoff, turning your back to him and picking up a rag to wipe down the counters so you have something to do with your hands.
"Sounded like that's what you wanted when you told me off." There's a bite in your words, but also an undertone of hurt.
Heeseung drove you insane in the worst way possible. You've had it bad for him since very early in your idol career together. You were close, but the two of you had always been very opinionated people. Disagreements were inevitable - you were able to work them out most times. Others? You clashed like tonight.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Heeseung sighs, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder but you're quick to step away from his touch, eyes still glued to the counter as you work out a particularly stubborn stain from last night's dinner. "You know how I get. I didn't mean it."
"Did you?" Your voice raises half a fraction, brows knitted together in frustration. Your grip on the cloth is so tight your knuckles are white. "It hurts, Hee. We get into these stupid arguments and you talk to me like you actually hate me or something."
That makes Heeseung freeze.
"It hurts."
"Like you actually hate me or something."
Your words replay in his mind, his intense gaze glued to your profile. It's as if something finally clicked into place for him. His jaw is set tight, mulling over his next words carefully before speaking.
"I don't hate you, you know that." He pauses, rephrasing with a sigh "I don't hate you. I just get frustrated and say stupid shit." There's a small hint of desperation in his voice, and you refuse to look at him because you know the look on his face will kill you.
When you don't respond, he tries again. "I regret saying those things to you. I know I should slow the fuck down when I get mad. I don't mean to hurt you."
Your jaw clenches tight, something sizzling under your skin as you listen to his words quietly. With a small sigh, you turn to the sink to wet the cloth in your hand.
"It doesn't matter anymore. Forget it."
That tips him over the edge.
Heeseung closes the space between you in an instant, a firm hand on your shoulder as he spins you around. Before you even have a chance to snap at him, his lips are on yours - it's not sweet, tongues and teeth and intensity. Like he needs you to understand something. Like he needs you to listen. Your heart pounds against your ribs, and before you can even think about it, you're returning the kiss. You struggle to keep up with him, crowding you against the counter as his hands grip at your waist.
He breaks away only when you push at his chest for air, intense eyes locked onto your eyes. He's breathing heavy, searching for something in your gaze. The closeness makes your head spin - or maybe it's just the lack of air that you're still trying to recover from. You want to look away from him, break the eye contact, but he won't let you. When you try a hand comes up to hold your jaw in place, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch.
"Don't ever say that it doesn't matter again." His voice is a whisper, but the weight is all the same. It's not a request, but a demand. His tone sends pinpricks up your spine, hands gripping the side of the counter on either side of you like a lifeline. Something has shifted in the air, and you're unsure how to feel about it. Something inside you doesn't want it to stop.
"Heeseung-"
"Don't." He cuts you off, dangerous gaze breaking from your eyes to trail down to your lips, then further still. "Lemme prove it to you."
Heeseung's lips are on you, then, soft open-mouthed kisses cascading from your jaw down to the skin of your neck. It leaves you gasping, brain struggling to catch up with the sudden switch. Even still, you make no effort to push him away.
"What-" Your voice is unsteady, "What do you mean?" You manage out, barely holding back a quiet whine as his lips press against a particularly sensitive spot.
You can feel his smile against your skin, his hands pulling your body against his by the hips. "Let me prove that I don't hate you. That I don't mean all those stupid things I said." His voice is lower now, a tone that makes you feel weak in the knees. His teeth graze over your pulse point, and that's when you know you're gone.
"Fuck, Hee," You sigh out, gripping at the front of his hoodie. Your head lulls back, allowing him more access to you. He takes the opening happily, begining to suck hickies into the soft skin of your neck that you're definitely going to stress about covering later. His hands slip up under your tank top, fabric riding up with the action. The coldness of his touch makes you shiver, one of your hands bracing on the counter as his lips crash onto yours again. This time, you meet him with just as much need.
Heeseung handles you with intent. Lifting you up onto the counter like he leads the heavy situation - and he does. You whine into the kiss when his hips press into your own, hands coming up to tangle into messy burgundy hair. When he breaks away he just looks at you. Eyes taking in your features till you're squirming under his gaze. It pulls that evil, easy smile onto his kiss-swollen lips and it makes your heart jump. Suddenly you're unsure if you're going to survive whatever's in store tonight.
"So perfect." Heeseung whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. It catches you a little off guard - the tenderness of it. His lips leave more gentle kisses across your face, till he inevitably ends up with his face buried into your neck yet again. His hands grip at your thighs, pulling a needy noise past your lips. He chases the high your reactions give him, biting down into the space between your shoulder and neck. Not enough to cause any real pain - just enough to feel it.
You whine, head hitting the cabinet door behind you with a soft thud. "Heeseung." Your voice sounds so foreign to you, a want laced through it that you don't recognize. You wanted to be angry with him still. To put up more of a fight than this. Your hands fisted into the front of his hoodie, pulling him impossibly closer even though your mind screamed at you to push him away. Arguments aside, this was one of your best friends. One of your group mates. Things would get very, very complicated if you didn't stop right now. Unfortunately (or not) for both of you, neither of you were going to do that.
"It's okay, baby." He responds as if he knows exactly what's racing through your mind, hands roaming freely across your body. "Just focus on me, let me take care of it. " His hips press into yours firmly, set on emptying your mind of all those thoughts. It makes your breath catch in your throat, exhaling shakily when you finally get it out.
With no protest from you, Heeseung grinds against you again. The groan that leaves him paired with the feeling of his clothed cock pressing against your core downright intoxicating. He sets a slow, head spinning pace. Lips latching onto your neck and shoulders as his hands grip at your thighs to hold you in place. You whine out his name, a hand coming up to fist into his hair again. You feel overwhelmed at the onslaught of pleasure, the way he holds you down and leaves no room for negotiation.
"That's it, pretty boy." His voice is against your ear, your mind all but short circuiting at the pet name. Pretty boy. It made you gasp, face getting impossibly hotter hearing the way your reaction made him laugh - breathy and satisfied.
"You like that, hm?" Heeseung says softly, teeth nipping at your ear "Like when I call you names?" His pace doesn't let up, and you're sure he can feel the way you're starting to soak through your boxers.
"Mm- Mhmm." You manage out pathetically, biting harshly at your lip when he lifts his head to meet your gaze. There's a pull about him, an intensity that demands control. Something natural about him that has sent you into quiet frenzies at the worst times. Especially now, it made you ache to do anything he wanted of you.
A low, satisfied hum leaves him, a hand coming up to cradle your jaw. His thumb drags across your bottom lip. "My pretty puppy."
Your heart jumps in your chest, his words going straight to the ache between your legs.
His.
"Heeseung, please." Your plea earns you that smug smile again, his hands disappearing under the thin fabric of your tank top.
"Don't want me to call you mine?" His hands move higher.
"I…" You hesitate, still present nerves stopping you for a moment. His thumbs brush along the surgical scars sitting neatly under your pecs, and your heart swells.
"I do." You sound sure, reverent as you look him in the eyes. With a hungry smile, Heeseung leans in to kiss you again. It's sloppier than the last, moaning into his mouth as he presses himself against you again. It gives him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you like he's starving for it.
You're already a mess, meeting the slow grind of his hips as much as you can. A part of you was still screaming at you in the back of your mind - wondering what the hell you were doing crossing an uncrossable line with your best friend. It got quieter with each passing moment. Each maddening roll of Heeseung's hips against your own.
You break the kiss first this time, raising your arms when Heeseung lifts your tank top up over your head. The fabric gets tossed somewhere behind him, quickly forgotten as his hands latch back onto your body. They slide up from your hips, to your waist, to your chest. His eyes follow the movement - enraptured.
"You're perfect." His eyes flit up to your own before he's dipping his head down, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones. The feeling sends little zaps of pleasure through you, a breathy moan escaping past your lips against your will. Heeseung's kisses trail down to your chest, leaving little love bites in his wake. It sends a feeling of euphoria through you, unable to help the small, breathy laugh that leaves you as your fingers card through his hair. You felt loved, like your chest was going to burst with the weight of it. He trails kisses along your surgical scars, then, light and sweet.
"Want you, babyboy." He hums against your skin, slowly coming back up to press a lingering kiss to your lips "Can I have you?"
The question makes your head spin, cheeks dusted in a warm, rosy color as your muddled brain takes a moment to fully process the weight of his words. He wants you. Wants to make you his. Heeseung.
You never thought the night would go this way - starting with a painful argument, now quickly leading into sleeping with your best friend. Though something tells you that after this, that label won't be so sufficient anymore. With a shaky breath, you give him a small nod. Your voice coming out so quiet it's barely a whisper when you finally speak.
"I'm yours."
Something kick-starts inside him, then. His hands hook under your thighs, kissing you hungrily as he easily lifts you up off of the counter. Your arms latch around his neck for purchase, whining into the kiss as he makes the familiar walk towards his room.
Once you pass the threshold of the door, he's kicking it shut with his foot. He breaks the kiss with a groan, tossing you down onto his bed before yanking his hoodie off. He tosses it aside, wasting no time in closing the space between you again. His hands slide under your knees, a yelp forcing it's way out of you as he pulls you under him. Caged beneath him, your hands press against his chest. His skin feels feverish under your touch, letting your fingers trace down along his torso.
Heeseung makes a satisfied hum at your actions, letting you enjoy it for a few more beats before he's kissing his way down your body. Once he reaches your stomach, he's slipping his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants. You feel a pang of self consciousness hit you, realizing what he's wanting to do. You squirm a little beneath him, a soft whine as your fingers find their way into his hair.
"Don't worry, baby." He hums, gaze gentle as he looks up at you. Your hand moves from his hair to cup his jaw, and he turns his head to kiss your palm. "Wanna make you feel good." You bite your lip, the look in his eyes bordering on filthy as he stares up at you, waiting on your response. He looks like he needs it. Like he's starving. You're so, so very aware of the ache between your legs, the way your underwear is soaked through. The way you need him too.
So, with a soft, quiet noise you lift your hips just enough to allow him to pull your pants and boxers down in one slow, agonizing motion. The noise that leaves him at the sight of you is sinful. Stopping you from closing your legs with a hand pressed to your knee.
"Fuck, you're beautiful." He's breathless, hand sliding down to your inner thigh. His lips follow closely behind, featherlight kisses trailing closer and closer to where you need him as he settles between your thighs. You only find yourself getting impossibly more flustered. It settling on you that this is actually happening as you watch him make himself at home between your legs. His gaze holds you hostage as his head dips down, pressing a wet, teasing kiss to your aching cunt. It makes you gasp, legs twitching as they try to clamp shut but Heeseung stops them. His arms hook around your thighs, holding you open. You can't go anywhere. Can't squirm away. Can't hide from his eyes. You're trapped, right where he wants you. It just makes you wetter, certain you're dripping onto his bedsheets already.
Now that he has you trapped, Heeseung goes back in. His tongue licks against you, firm and slow, drawing a moan from you as he takes his time savoring the taste of you. Your hands find their way into his hair, head falling back onto the pillows as he circles his tongue around your clit. He moans against you, the feeling of it making you whine out his name.
"Taste so fuckin' good, baby." He groans, lips wrapping around your clit before you have a chance to get your bearings. The sensation has you seeing stars, so much more sensitive to it since things have changed on hormones. It's maddening, the way he swaps from sucking you off and dipping his tongue into you. His hands grip at your thighs, nails digging into soft flesh just enough to leave crescent shaped marks behind. When you tug at his hair at a particularly harsh swipe of his tongue, he groans, doubling down as he pulls you impossibly closer against his face. It makes you cry out, barely realizing that you've started grinding against his face - not that he gives you any indication that it's at all a problem.
You're so pleasantly overwhelmed, senses so full of him that it has that coil in your stomach drawing tighter by the second. You can't think of anything else, your mind a muddled mess of Heeseung, Heeseung, Heeseung-
"Want you to cum on my face, pretty boy." His words make you whine, thighs trembling as he watches you fall apart on his tongue. Any preservations you had before were gone, so lost in the way he made you feel.
"Fuck, Hee- I'm gonna-" You barely manage out before another breathy moan is drawn out of you. Heeseung doesn't stop, keeps doing exactly what he's doing. He takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking with just the right pressure to push you over the edge with a broken moan of his name. Your vision whites out for a moment, whimpering as he works you through your orgasm, only stopping when you weakly push at his head.
Heeseung lifts his head up, looking like an absolutely gorgeous mess. His hair is disheveled from your hands, lips swollen and glistening, and he has the most satisfied look on his face. He was going to be the death of you.
"Such a good boy for me." He hums, his voice having a bit of a gravel to it, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before he's crawling up on top of you. You're quick to pull him into a kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. Your skin was buzzing with pleasure, but you still wanted more. Still needed him.
He pulls away, pressing sloppy kisses along your jaw. "My pretty puppy tastes so good." It's sinful, the way he talks to you.
"Please don't stop calling me that." You whine, desperate.
Heeseung nips at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, smiling at the way you shiver. "Such a filthy little thing. Anything you want, baby."
One of his hands leaves you to undo the button and zipper of his jeans, making easy work of pulling them and his underwear down just enough to free his leaking cock. You nearly whine at the sight of him, taking in the size, and the way he's dripping pre-cum.
He can't help but smirk at your reaction, hands running along your thighs as he sits up between them. He lazily strokes his cock as he looks down at you, hungry eyes taking in every detail of your perfect body.
"Thought about you like this so many times," He says with a groan, head tilting to the side slightly as his hand continues the agonizingly slow pace up and down his length. "Spread out on my bed. Looking so fucking needy for me."
You whine. He's teasing you now, somehow showing a barely controlled restraint even after making you cum once already. He's seconds from losing it, but he wants to savour every second of this. Draw it out as long as he can.
"I know you've thought about me too." He says with a lazy, smug grin. "Apartment's got thin walls, y'know." His free hand squeezes at your thigh, reveling in the way you squirm beneath him.
"Heeseung, please." You sound fucked out already, full on whimpering when he teasingly drags the head of his cock through your slick folds.
"Gonna have to use your words, babyboy." The head of his cock presses against your swollen clit, making your hips buck involuntarily. Your whole body felt hot, gripping at the sheets beneath you as he continued the slow, torturous grind of his hips.
"Please," You gasp, feeling so exposed beneath his intense gaze, "Please fuck me." You finally get it out, the grin tugging at his lips making the aching want inside you impossibly worse.
"That's it, good boy." He doesnt make you wait any longer, satisfied hum in his throat as he guides the head of his cock to press into you. It's a delicious burn that has you moaning out his name. The slow drag of his cock stretching you out as he buries himself to the hilt with a breathy "Fuck,".
You feel so full. Your senses going haywire as your body adjusts to his size. His hands soothe over your thighs, leaning over you to lock you in a messy, unhurried kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair as he starts a slow pace. Slowly pulling out nearly to the tip before he's pushing back into you with a groan.
Your head feels hazy, moaning into his mouth with each thrust as he fucks you into the mattress with slow, maddening precision. When he breaks the kiss, there's a string of spit connecting you together. The grin on his lips might just be the hottest thing you've ever seen - knowing he knows you're so gone for him there's no going back.
Heeseung's pace picks up, hands pressing your thighs down into the mattress to keep you spread open for him.
"Fuck, baby. Taking me so well - like you were made for this dick." He groans, fucking into you like he owns you, and really, he knows that he does - and so do you.
"So fuckin' full." You slur, hand gripping the sheets above your head to keep your body from inching up the mattress. You swear you can feel him in your stomach, thighs trembling in his hold as he thrusts into you.
"Yeah? Feels good, doesn't it puppy?" A particularly rough thrust of his has him cursing, keeping up the harsh pace as he presses a hand to your lower stomach. "Fuck- You're so perfect for me."
You cry out, struggling to hold his gaze as you take everything he gives you, because it's all you can do. His free hand braces beside your head on the mattress, fully leaned over you. You're caged in - completely surrounded by the way his larger frame traps you.
"Heeseung," You whine at the way his hand stays pressed firm against your stomach, forcing you to really feel every single thrust deep inside you. You swear you're seeing stars, tears starting to pinprick at the edges of your vision from the intensity.
"You can take it, baby." His hips snap into you, each thrust accompanied with the obscene sounds of him fucking into you. It feels like that coil inside you is about to snap, your thighs trembling from the pleasure.
"M'gonna cum - Hee please." You whimper, broken and needy as his hand moves from your stomach to your neck. Not enough pressure to cut off air flow, but enough for you to feel it. You can tell he's close too, thrusts becoming less controlled, groans muddling into soft whines.
"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock." His voice is breathy, a mess himself but the command is still there. With a few more rough thrusts you're coming undone beneath him with a cry. He doesn't stop, chasing his own high as he fucks into you.
"So fucking good for me. So pretty falling apart under me." He growls, dropping onto his elbows and biting down onto your shoulder with a broken whine as his thrusts get sloppier, still slamming into you all the way with each mind numbing snap.
Your hands find purchase on his back, leaving pretty red lines as you whine and whimper beneath him, stimulation bordering on too much as he uses you to chase his own release. When his teeth finally dislodge from your shoulder, it aches, and you just know it's going to leave a nasty bruise. The thought just makes your head swim more.
Heeseung bites you again, conscious just enough to be a bit nicer about it this time. He revels in this way you cry out for him, hands gripping harshly into the sheets as he finally slams into you once more with a whine he'd be embarrassed about if he wasn't fucking you senseless.
"Take it, fuck-" He cums hard, the feeling of him filling you up pulling a downright pathetic moan from your lips. He's breathing heavy, panting above you as he struggles to hold his weight so he doesn't collapse on top of you. He peppers tender kisses along the bites he left - a silent apology.
"Hee," It's all you can get you, feeling so fuzzy and fucked out you can barely think. Heeseung kisses your forehead, then your nose, then locks his lips over yours. It's slow, sloppy. Coming down from your shared high as he soothes his hands up and down your sides.
He breaks away with a lazy smile, hissing softly when he slowly pulls out of you. It makes you whine, the slow drag against your sensitive walls, followed by the emptiness. Heeseung sits up on his knees, running his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face as his eyes lock onto your cunt - dripping with his cum. The sight makes him groan, rubbing his hands over your thighs.
"Fuck, baby." He says, voice quiet. His gaze on you makes you squirm a little, suddenly feeling shy. He just smiles, leaning down to kiss you again.
"Lemme clean you up." He's moving off of the bed now, to your dismay, tucking himself back into his pants before disappearing into the bathroom for just a moment. When he comes back he has a cloth in his hand, climbing back onto the bed. He sits between your legs, gentle as he begins cleaning you up. The sensation of the warm cloth on your over-sensitive body making you jolt a little at the first contact.
"I know." He smiles, finishing up before he's moving again. "Only gotta leave one more time, I promise." He reassures you. You pout, tiredness quickly creeping up on you as you watch him exit the room again. When he returns, hes got a glass of water. He rounds the bed, setting it on the nightstand before swapping his jeans out for a pair of loose sweatpants. Finally he joins you back in his bed, adjusting the pillows before pulling you against him. You settle right in, a satisfied hum as he kisses the top of your head.
"Here, baby," His tone is soft, guiding as he grabs the glass and holds it up to you. You let him hold it as you drink, three big gulps to satisfy your dry throat before he sets it back on the nightstand. You cuddle back into him, face burying into the crook of his neck.
"I hope none of that was too much." He rubs your back soothingly, keeping you pressed close against him. His face nuzzles into your hair with a contented sigh.
"Was perfect." You whisper, sleep threatening to take hold of you as he pulls the comforter up over the two of you. He can't help but smile, heart swelling in his chest.
"M'glad."
Nothing more needs to be said. Not right now, anyway. You'll deal with whatever that may look like in the morning. Right now, pressed close to one another, everything felt right. Everything felt like this is how it was supposed to be.
You doze off easily, safe in Heeseung's arms. Your best friend. Your Heeseung.
To all my friends. Thank you for being a part of my life, sharing your love, kindness, and amazing content with the world. To being amazing people I can trust, and love. Never change who you are ♥
Ik this is random af but I've had this thought for some time now and I need to know if I'm the only one who thinks this lmao but I think seongmo would be real good at eating pussy and he'd looks so good too-
NO BC REALLL 😖😖
just imagine his usual confident smirk and that mischievous sparkle in his eyes when he takes in your bare form in front of him, practically eating you whole w his intense gaze alone. so so pretty and vulnerable- all for him and him only. for him to corrupt. he would def take his sweet time w you, teasing and exploring every bit of you. he wants to see you all needy and desperate,,, gives him a huuge ego boost. hes the type of guy to shamelessly talk and moan against your pussy while eating you out, bringing you closer and closer to your relief w the vibrations his low tone is producing. but dont even think abt finishing, hed edge you until youre begging and crying for him to do something abt your aching core.
could you write kim sunwoo best friend/roommate somnophilia?
i love your writing <3
SWEET DREAMS ⟢ 김선우
The two of you weren’t very close by any means, Sunwoo being your twin’s best friend. As cliché as it sounded, maybe a part of you wished the two of you were. Maybe, that’s why after him apologizing and you having a wet dream, things shifted for you.
Sunwoo, your twin brother’s best friend, who you’ve known since the three of you could even properly walk. You easily see him nearly every day. Now that didn’t mean the two of you were close since then (nor being close now), he had always been and is most definitely more of your brother’s friend than yours. That fact in no way had ever bothered you by any means. To you, it was to be expected as the two of you had nothing particularly in common to connect with. Since you were children, people joked that if it wasn’t for their appearances, they’d be passable as the twins.
Present day, you sit quietly crisscrossed on the floor folding your laundry only averting your attention due to the sound of knocking against your bedroom door.
“Come in.”
The door whips open as your brother informs you that Sunwoo was coming over and he’d appreciate it if you didn’t try and pick a fight with him. You remind him it’s Sunwoo who starts the bickering between the two of you but, as expected, he dismisses your attempts of clearing your name. Simply waving his hand asking you to just get along and stay quietly in your room. Deciding to save your breath you promise him, huffing in annoyance as you remind him to close your door behind him as he walks away. Which of course much to your annoyance he ignores you completely, leaving you to get up and close it behind him. Coming to the conclusion that it was better to forget him than fixate on him being aggravating, you channel all your frustrations to your tasks. You finish your laundry and start a side quest of organizing your bedroom. Thankfully with the added motivation it's not a long feat. You fall back into bed when you’ve decided it was good enough for now, only sitting up once you hear your stomach growl, placing a hand over your stomach. Technically your brother couldn’t force you to stay in your room forever, even if he wanted to. Pondering on your options you decide you didn’t care, slipping on a pair of slippers and walking downstairs passing through the living room to enter the kitchen. Choosing to ignore their annoyed complaints when you crossed in front of the tv, not that you had a choice. Not that stopped them from complaining. Opening the fridge to search for something easy but filling to make the options felt endless. Closing the fridge door after grabbing a few random tupperware with leftovers, you flinch in surprise seeing Sunwoo standing on the other side staring at you with no expression.
“Stop scaring me, what do you need?” You questioned him, rubbing your chest in a circular motion to steady your heartbeat.
“I just wanted to grab a drink so let’s not be so dramatic.”
Furrowing your eyebrows together, you angrily heat your food in the microwave telling him you weren’t being dramatic. Adding that maybe he should consider making his presence known so others wouldn't get frightened by him. His rebuttal to that is asking if you’d let him know before you’re in the same room as him due to your face being too scary looking for him. Staring at him for a moment you look away with an eyeroll, telling him to shut up under your breath. Taking the time to place the dirty dishes into the sink and sit down at the table to eat your dinner in peace. At least as peaceful as it possibly could be with them two around. He doesn’t say anything else as he takes one last glance over at you before heading back into the living room to watch the game with your brother. You’re thankful for the loss of his presence, eating in silence having left your phone stupidly in your bedroom. Finishing up your meal you walk over to the sink making sure to wash your dishes before placing them into the dishwasher, drying your hands onto the dish towel. With a sigh, you turn on your heel in the direction of the archway going back towards the living room. Your brother requests your presence into the kitchen, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you reluctantly follow behind him to go back towards where you had just previously left.
“What did I say about staying in your room and not picking fights?” He angrily whispered, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that made you want to laugh.
“You can’t force me to stay in my room, you’re not my parent. This is my house too and if I want to eat, I can eat. Get over it.”
“Not when you pick fights with everyone.”
“You might be a few minutes older but you’re not very bright. Get over yourself.” You cut him off, turning away to stomp up the stairs until you make it into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. Annoyance flooded your nerves wanting to go back downstairs and give him a piece of your mind but quickly deciding against it knowing it’d only be used against you later on. The rest of the night was quiet except the few loud cheering from downstairs that you’ve grown to know when their team scored. You sit up to try and relieve the restlessness in your legs, walking over to your computer chair and sit down in silence before turning your computer on. Placing your noise canceling headphones on, sitting comfortably crisscrossed in the seat, allowing yourself to get lost in your game.
It’s hours later into the night when a hand on your shoulder scares you, jumping out of your skin, ripping the headphones off your head ready to fight whoever it was. Your demeanor changes when you look up and see Sunwoo, rolling your eyes as you place your headphones back onto your head, leaving one ear open as you go back to focusing on your game.
“What?” Your tone laced with clear disdain.
“I just wanted to apologize.”
Pausing your game you turn back to give Sunwoo a confused and just as equally suspicious expression not exactly believing in the slightest that he wanted to give you a genuine apology. He’s quick to pick up on your suspicions as he tries his hardest to convince you that he’s sorry for the way your brother treated you because of him. Also apologizing for being rude earlier to you, not so subtly adding a compliment in there about your face. Not that you exactly believed him or the apology but the apology was nice to hear for once instead of being told you were the problem, halfheartedly accepting the apology and telling Sunwoo to close the door behind him on his way out. To which he does after walking away with a sigh as if he could tell you didn’t believe him. Which is something that he couldn’t blame you for. He's never given you a properly good reason to fully trust his words or even like him due to his tough guy behavior and treating you as a lesser being to him. Especially when your brother had already started picking on you, Sunwoo never failed to chime in with him. Sunwoo did want to be a better person, to show that he's changed, but he’s aware it’ll take time. Breaking old habits of his. Waiting for him to leave, you peel off your headphones, staring at the closed door in confusion. You weren’t sure which was worse, Sunwoo being decent towards you or being a prick. Either way, you weren't buying the act. Saving your progress before turning off your pc and climbing into bed for the night.
Sweat covered your skin, sitting up with shaky breathing, looking down at your comforter with wide eyes. There was no way in hell that you had just dreamt what you did, a hand shooting down under your blanket, gasping when your fingers brushed against your panties. A wet patch was there, evidence of your dreams, shaking your head rapidly praying you were still dreaming. In denial that you had dreamt of Sunwoo in such a manner. Shame, embarrassment, it all flooded into your mind like hot lava. You couldn’t believe that your mind would sabotage you in such ways. Dreaming of someone sexually when you shouldn't is both embarrassing as well as just as equally horrifying. Standing up you hurriedly grab clothes out of your dresser and make your way across the hall in desperate need of a shower. Begging that between a hot soapy shower and being awake for a bit will helo make you forget the entire dream all together.
However, you’ve never had decent luck.
Luck. You have none of it.
Sunwoo continues his daily routine of coming over to see your brother, your brain taunting you with images of that dream.
Due to this, the next few days are full of awkward silence. Well maybe more so from your end than Sunwoo’s, but nonetheless you avoided him at all costs. You couldn’t get the memory of your dreams out of your head, making even being in the same room as him feel deathly awkward. Sunwoo notices rather quickly of your avoidance. He couldn't pinpoint exactly why you suddenly avoided him like the plague. It was normal for you to avoid him by some degree but it was usually vocal rather than physically avoiding him.
Sunwoo enters the kitchen, your breath catching in your throat, coughing hard as you beeline out of the room and towards the stairs leading up to your room. He could've let it be, assuming this was the new normal for you two, but something about it had started to grow in him. Annoyed by your inability to even acknowledge his existence. His feet think before his brain has time to catch up, following behind you up the stairs. Before you can properly close your bedroom door, Sunwoo’s hand catches it, looking at him in confusion.
“Can you let go of my door?”
“What’s your deal?”
“Excuse me?”
Sunwoo looks at you as if he would rather be literally anywhere else. Which is funny considering he could be. Annoyed by his presence (and definitely not because the dream is replaying faintly in the back of your head, making you clench).
“I asked, what is your deal?” Sunwoo reiterated. Watching as you rolled your eyes alongside you making another attempt to close your door. Which he easily manages to block.
“Nothing, I’m trying to close my door. You're making that mighty difficult.”
“You know that’s not what I meant, you’ve been avoiding me.”
You scoff, as if he had offended you. As if he wasn’t correct.
“I have not been avoiding you, don't flatter yourself.”
“What would you call it then, hm? Leaving the room when I enter, ignoring me? Is that not the definition of avoidance?”
“No,” you pause, looking him up and down. Studying him. “Just means we’re not friends.” Honestly you're impressed he even noticed, considering him to be dumb. Not that he ever gave you that impression you had made it yourself after deciding you disliked him and his personality.
Sunwoo stares at you for a moment, quiet, as if he was trying to make sense of you. Then, he busts out in laughter, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You can’t lie worth shit. How am I supposed to believe you when you can’t even muster up a good poker face.”
Annoyance flooded your senses, face red and warm with equal parts of embarrassment and frustration. Sunwoo laughing at you, let alone directly in your face, made you want to throttle him. Waiting for him to stop laughing, his face red, wiping remnants of his tears away from his eyes.
“Are you done?” You questioned him, biting on the inside of one of your cheeks. Sunwoo was annoying you tremendously, yet, also fighting back the urge to smile at his stupid laugh. Dramatically he sighs, standing up straight to look down at you, stupid handsome smirk on his stupidly beautiful lips.
“So what is it? Why are you pretending I don’t exist?”
“Sunwoo. It’s nothing, I just don’t feel the need to pretend to be close to you.” Your fist tightens around the doorknob, an attempt to calm yourself down, desperately trying to ignore the voice in your head screaming over Sunwoo. The way his gaze fixated on you made your heart race. He could easily walk into the bedroom given his strength, the idea arousing something in you. Your thighs squeezed together as close as they possibly could be, barely focused on what Sunwoo was saying by this point.
“It’s nothing, you’re going through all the trouble for nothing?” Sunwoo himself was growing annoyed, feeling as if the two of you were simply going in circles, yanking the door open so he could get a proper good look at you.
“Just tell me why you’re avoiding me and I’ll leave. I want to at least apologize but I can’t if you don’t grow up and say anything.”
Opening your mouth to fire back, your words flow out of you faster than you can filter them, growing more passionate in the process. Your fists balled up on your sides, glaring at Sunwoo with such intensity that one could swear they saw smoke come out of your ears.
“Say it again.” Sunwoo responds with, taking you aback.
“What?”
“Say it again,” he encourages you again, or rather dares you. “I want to hear you say it again.”
Your throat suddenly feels like it’s closing in on itself, your mouth dry, voice gone. It dawns on you that you exposed yourself, your innermost thoughts to the very subject of them. Yet, there he stood, waiting for you to confirm what he had heard and you knew he wasn’t going to let it go until then.
“I dreamt we fucked.” You said barely audible to your own ears.
“Like you mean it.”
“I don’t mean it,” you cut yourself off, face extremely red. “We had sex in my stupid dream. Happy? Now leave.” You try to grab the door but Sunwoo is quicker, stepping past the threshold and into your bedroom. The door slams behind him, causing you to jump. He shouldn’t be in here, your heart shouldn't be racing, and Sunwoo definitely shouldn't be wrapping his arms around you like he is. His cologne hits your nose, a faint moan vibrating in the base of your throat, content with his scent. The two of you have never been this close even when you were slightly considered as friends in the past, your veins filled with electricity.
“Did we kiss in your dream?” Sunwoo asked, making a mental note of him staring directly at your lips when he asked that.
Nodding, you inform him that the two of you did, awkwardly complimenting his lips. That makes Sunwoo chuckle, nodding to himself as his hand is brought up to cup the side of your jaw. Chills run down your arms, unaware that you’re fully leaning into his touch by this point, gasping softly when he leans in closer.
“I really want to kiss you right now.” There’s a short pause. “Can I kiss you?”
Again you should’ve pulled away, kicked him out of your room, told him to never talk to you again, but you simply couldn't. Instead you lean in with him until your lips meet. The feeling in your body is as if fireworks had gone off, groaning in your throat when the hand on your jaw tightened. The kiss makes your heart race hard in your chest, beating hard into your ribs. Reach up to place your hands on the backside of Sunwoo’s neck to ground yourself, closing any space left between the two of you. Greed flowed through you wanting more, needing more, allowing Sunwoo to guide you blindly so your back rests up against your bedroom wall. Hands become a frenzy mess with the two of you growing bolder, needier. Sunwoo only pulls away long enough to get air. The kiss intensified until the two of you migrated towards your bed, falling flushed into the mattress with a shared gasp.
Sunwoo looks down at you, his eyes making you feel like you would melt right then and there. Breaking eye contact as you watch his hand travel from its place around your thigh up to rest on your waist. His grip is firm, possessive, and strong.
“What did we do in that dream of yours, hm?”
It’s hard for you to get a single word out being fixated on his hands, whimpering when he asks again, the hand not wrapped around your waist finding its way underneath your shirt.
“You, ah,” you moan, squeezing your legs together when Sunwoo cups your breast into his hand.
“I what, come on baby, tell me.”
“I’m trying,” you whined, the pet name making you feel insane. Choosing to wrap a hand around his arm that was attached to the hand teasing your sensitive skin.
“You ate me out, made me feel good.” You trailed off, facing away from Sunwoo avoiding his face, red with embarrassment. Feeling his hand remove itself from your waist and grip your chin instead you prepare yourself to be face to face again. Fighting the urge to groan up at Sunwoo, becoming maybe a bit hyper aware of how sexy his expressions were. A single shift in his eyebrows made your heart race anticipating what he was going to do next, growing wet from the simplest of things. Cursing Sunwoo in your mind. Sunwoo drops his hand from your chin and uses it to spread your legs apart, making you return to reality, looking down at him in surprise.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think?” Sunwoo questioned back, now removing the hand from your chest, watching him scoot back on the bed until he's flat on his stomach. Shyness flooded your mind, asking to shower first, trying to sit up away from his face that was too close to your pussy. He growls in annoyance, wrapping both his arms around your legs, yanking you closer. The back of your head makes contact with the mattress, the air in your lungs knocked out of you as Sunwoo puts you in full view for him to witness. Covering your face with your arms, you groan telling him to shut up as he runs two fingers up then back down on either side of your lips. He’s teasing you both verbally and physically, his fingers skilled in the way he easily finds what areas make you gasp, thighs shaking under his arms. He comments on how wet your thin panties are, how little they leave for the imagination, rubbing two fingers over it to collect it onto them.
“Look at me.”
Shaking your head you yelp, feeling his hand connect with your clothed pussy, Sunwoo telling you to look at him again. Something in you snaps, looking down at him with a pouty expression. One that made Sunwoo twitch in his sweats, bringing his fingers up for you to see, a cocky smile on his face.
“This wet from kissing and touching, your dreams must’ve been real good for you to be this wet for me.” Sunwoo puts emphasis on the last part of his sentence, pleased with how red you got, struggling to deny it. Your stammering and defensiveness is more than enough evidence for him. Growing impatient Sunwoo wraps his hand around your panties, yanking them off you. The sound of the thin lace fabric ripping makes you whine over it. Sunwoo saying he will replace them later, content with the compromise.
“I want a taste,” Sunwoo states, looking up at you through his eyelashes. It brings a wave of heat across your skin, nodding eagerly in response. It’s not enough for him, Sunwoo connecting another slap against your now fully exposed pussy. Whimpering, being fully aware of what he wanted, you beg for him to eat you out, toes curling when he pushes your legs open fully for him to slot into. Bitting your bottom lip as he places gentle kisses against your pussy, his ears twitching as you whimper his name under your breath. His breath fans over your wet pussy making your head fall back, fingers spreading you open for him to see. With how wet you are it’s impossible to mask the noises produced by your pussy, going to cover your face with your hands, which is denied by Sunwoo telling you to watch him. Propping yourself up onto your elbows you watch as Sunwoo smiles at you before dipping his head, tonguing in between your folds as his nose brushes against your clit. Snaking a hand down to wrap around his soft dark locks you curse under your breath as he eagerly tries to get noises out of you. He skillfully moves his fingers to work alongside in perfect harmony with his tongue. It’s a deadly combo, begging him to slow down his pace feeling your brain grow dangerously fuzzy at the edges. His lips brush over your clit giving it opened mouth kisses before refocusing his tongue to delving it into your hole as he moves you impossibly closer to his face. Sunwoo sounds starved as he continues to eat you out, sloppy sucking and licking filling out the bedroom, squelching around his fingers, moans mixed in between. You don’t ever want him to stop, squeezing around his fingers feeling heat growing in your lower abdomen rapidly, your hand in his hair moving down to dig into his broad shoulders.
“Sunwoo, hold on, oh fuck,” you ramble, chest raising and falling fast, nearly screamimg as his fingers pump out of you quicker. “I’m, oh god, I’m going to cum, don't stop.” You beg, plead, feeling the knot snap. Your upper body falling back into the mattress, back beautifully arches so your lower half is flushed to his face. Sunwoo doesn’t move as your thighs tighten around both sides of his head, your nails dig into his skin, trembling intensely on his face. Slumping into the mattress, your eyes blurred, mouth agape as you tried to catch your breath. You can hear Sunwoo speaking but you’re too tired to move, whining feeling him sit up from his previous position to crawl on top of you. He leans down to plant kisses across your face, brushing your sweat matted hair out of the way.
“You there, baby?”
In response you shake your head earning a little smile from Sunwoo, who lays down next to you, planting the occasional soft kiss onto the side of your face. Once your heart has settled down enough, your body gaining its strength back, you turn to face Sunwoo. Sharing glances in silence you're the one to break the silence, sitting up shakily and moving to sit on Sunwoo’s lap. Accidentally plopping down onto his lap, he groans, guiding you with his hands into a more comfortable position for the both of you. Apologizing with a little blush on the apples of your cheeks.
“What are you doing up there?” Sunwoo questions, genuinely curious on what you were thinking of doing. With a shrug, you cross your arms to easily peel off your shirt, your breasts in full view for Sunwoo. Which he takes happily. Sunwoo swears under his breath at the sight letting both of his hands travel from your thighs up to your breasts, squeezing them several times over.
“You look so beautiful.”
His honesty makes you blush, telling him to shut up, giggling as he glares up at you. The softness of his actions makes your heart flutter, leaning down so you could catch him into a gentle kiss, humming as he fondles your ass. You’re addicted to Sunwoo, pulling back slightly tempted to slip an arm back and put him into you, ride him, but you were too tired for too much more. A pout forms on your lips, Sunwoo catching on quickly much to your liking.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
You sigh, planting a quick kiss onto his lips.
“I’m tired but I also want you in me.”
“I can help with that.” He states. Having you climb off his lap, standing up to remove his sweats and boxers. Finally seeing his dick makes you clench, extremely tempted to initiate a second round but you know your limits. So instead you watch him as he gives it a few slow strokes, a shaky breath falling off his lips as he tells you to comfortably lay down on your side. You listen obediently, turning to face away from him, moving until you’re perfectly comfortable. Feeling the bed dip down, your breath catches in your throat feeling Sunwoo’s warmth return.
“Open your legs for me.”
You listen.
Sunwoo fixes his position so he can slip into you comfortably, listening to his deep noises that make their way out of his mouth. Feeling him just barely move inside you makes heat wash over you, having to bite down on your knuckle to subdue your own noises, telling yourself to relax. Thankfully he's not painfully big, growing comfortable with his size, bringing Sunwoo’s arms to wrap around your waist, fingers interlocked with yours. Neither of you speak about the sudden change in your dynamic. Maybe too scared to put a label onto it, deciding for yourself that it was too late to worry about it too awfully much. Telling Sunwoo a final goodnight as you let your mind wander off, falling asleep peacefully.
However, unlike you, Sunwoo lays awake. For the last several hours he’s been thinking about the changed dynamic, scared you’re going to wake up and change your mind. Regret this, regret him. An idea that he wishes to forget about. He gets his wish, you shifting in your sleep suddenly.
Sunwoo places a hand firmly around your thigh, his eyes wide, gasping as you continue to shift in your sleep. Not something that normally would have him fighting for his life but considering you were cockwarming him, he was struggling profusely. He considers the possibility of you being awake and messing with him, calling out your name, not getting a response in return.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, the hand on your thigh moving to spread your ass. Sunwoo tells himself to go back to bed, pull out, ignore the throbbing in his dick but he can’t. The way your snores rattle in his head, breathy faint moans here and there in between, the way you pushed back up against him; Sunwoo swore he was going to die. He tests the waters, pulling back before gently pushing back towards your direction watching himself push in and out of your pussy. Eyes rolled back, a shaky groan deep in his throat, Sunwoo is convinced he’s died and went to the next best thing. The way you clench around him is delicious, trying his best to not get caught up in the moment. It doesn’t take very long however for Sunwoo to forget his own thoughts, fixated on how good you feel wrapped around him. Letting the hand on your thigh to travel down to wrap around the back of your knee, lifting your leg up so he can fuck you with better ease. Yes, he should be considering the likeliness of you waking up but he didn’t take time to consider anything, lost in his own desires. He doesn’t notice that you’ve woken up, blinking the sleep from your eyes, moans growing louder realizing what was happening.
“Woo, wait, oh god.” you moan, turning your head in a failed attempt to look at him, tilting your head down in pleasure. Sunwoo at least becomes aware of you being awake, moving his free hand to wrap around your throat, bringing you closer to him so your lips are crashing together. It’s hungry, messy, and wet. Not a single thought comes to mind as Sunwoo ruins you perfectly, moaning pathetically into his mouth, begging for him to continue. The all familiar feeling of heat builds in your abdomen, your nails digging into the skin of Sunwoo’s leg. It’s intense, indescribable, unable to properly breathe, between the kissing and choking. Your brain is fuzzy, losing all sense, allowing your body to move on instinct. Pushing back against Sunwoo as he thrusts deep into you the sound of skin hitting against skin fills out the bedroom. Breaking away from the kiss, you rest your forehead onto Sunwoo's, staring at his swollen lips, whimpering between your words.
“I’m going to cum. Feels so, so, so good, please let me cum.”
It seems Sunwoo ignored what you said, going to repeat yourself until he drops his hand off your throat, repositioning you so that you’re pinned down against the mattress. Two hands firmly wrapped on either side of your waist. Sunwoo’s quick, deep thrusts make your eyes well up with tears, still trying to process the change in both position and pace. Your fingers grip your pillows until the knuckles are white, eyes rolled back into your head, each time your ass comes flush with his thighs knocking a string of moans from you. Sunwoo removes one hand off your waist to slide down your back, content with your arch, swearing as you feel him lean down to hold you in place by the back of your neck. Given his new position, each thrust into you is deeper than previously. It drives you mad, continuing your strings of rambling and pleads, teetering on the edge of an intense orgasm. It was becoming evident that Sunwoo wouldn't last much longer himself, his thighs starting to tremble tremendously, his groans elongated and deep.
“Fuck, you feel so good, wrapped around me.”
Sunwoo barely manages to get his sentence out, replacing the hand around the back of your neck with the other, using his right hand to guide your hips. You're both close, fighting the orgasm that begged to release, something in you needing Sunwoo’s permission to do so. Removing one hand off your pillow you reach for Sunwoo who notices, taking your arm and pinning it down behind your back instead. You whine, turning your head to the side unable to move properly under him. Taking everything given to you obediently. Although you were behaving your body was not, screaming at you to let go, to cum, needing that sweet release. So, in a desperate attempt, you beg Sunwoo. Hoping he will give you mercy this once.
“Woo, please let me cum. It hurts. So good, please? Please..” you trailed off, burying your face into a pillow. Embarrassed by your pleading that came out more of a scream. Sunwoo twitches, enjoying the way you pleaded to him, telling you to hold on a little longer, to cum with him. You obey, toes curling when his thrusts go from fast yet still strong to convulsing thighs, slowing down his thrusts.
“Cum, fuck, cum with me, baby.” Sunwoo grunts, his hand dropping off your arm to lean forward, boxing you in between him and the bed. Your orgasm hits you hard, knocking all the air out of your lungs as you cum around Sunwoo feeling him break down simultaneously. Warmth covers the back of your thighs, your ass, barely coherent enough to catch the sound of Sunwoo cursing under his breath. You allow yourself to be manhandled, Sunwoo pressing small kisses on your face, apologizing for finishing not only in you but all over your lower body as well. His change in demeanor makes you laugh, pulling him closer to kiss him easier telling him you didn’t particularly care what he’s done. Sunwoo smiles, proud of himself, your head on his lap, giggling when he spreads your legs open to stare at his mess. Cocky asshole.
“You look pretty stuffed with my cum.”
You give him a look, laughing, kicking him away from you as you sit up to use the bathroom.
“You’re so stupid.” You said matter of factly. Sunwoo surprises you by wrapping both his arms around you, yanking you back to him, attacking you with his lips.
“I’ll show you stupid.”
“What does that even mean, Woo?” You questioned, in between him stealing kisses, his hands playing with the fat of your ass.
“You’ll figure it out soon enough.” He states confidentially, initiating a kiss that you're more than happy to reciprocate. Humming when Sunwoo’s tongue slips alongside your own. Neither of you want to break away from the kiss until he pulls back first, his head pressed against yours, breath fanning your neck as he tries to regain his breathing.
“Want me to help clean you up?”
“I think if you follow me to the shower, it’ll become counterintuitive, Woo. Maybe let me shower first.” You move off his lap, listening to him whine, saying you could save water if he shared the shower with you. Telling him to hush and wait for next time you’ll happily share a shower with him then. Hearing that makes Sunwoo brighten up looking up at you in the cutest way possible.
“So there is a next time? Good.”
With a shake of your head you grab clean clothes, wrapping a blanket around your body as you quietly open your bedroom door to sneak to the bathroom across the hall. A hand grabbing your wrist stops you in your tracks, spinning you around so that you’re pressed up against the bathroom door. You gasp, giggling as quietly as you could, asking Sunwoo what he was doing.
“Stealing one more kiss before I head out. Don’t think your brother would appreciate the possibility of catching us in bed together.”
The mention of your brother annoys you, groaning, telling Sunwoo to not ruin the moment. Giving him a final kiss you tell him goodnight. He reminds you to text him later before bed, which you already know you will, waving to him as he goes downstairs to leave.
Tonight felt unreal, like another one of your dreams, but you weren’t upset by it either. Maybe you guys weren't the best of friends yet but that’ll come with time, sighing happily as you go into the bathroom to shower.
Getting out, you slip clean sheets back onto your bed, blushing when you remember just an hour prior you were underneath Sunwoo. That reminds you to text him, bidding him a simple good night. Turning your ringer off, you curl up onto your side, drifting off to sleep easier than usual.
bsfs brother!Heeseung x f!reader - when you ask him to teach you how to masturbate. (pure porn with plot. MDNI 18+, explicit, masturbation, cunnilingus, phone sex, ANGST, fluff too so its fine.)
“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”
“And if she won’t listen…”
“I’ll make her.”
You’ve always had a hate-hate relationship with masturbation.
Not the “haha I don’t know what I’m doing” kind. Not the shy, innocent kind. The kind where you tried, over and over again, and every time it ended in that same aching, pathetic way—panties soaked, fingers numb, pussy throbbing, and absolutely nothing to show for it.
No finish. No orgasm. Not even a fucking twitch of satisfaction.
You rubbed and rubbed, like everyone said to. You found your clit. You circled it. Pressed it. Flicked it. Tried soft and slow, then fast and desperate. Tried with spit, with lotion, with fucking coconut oil once. But nothing ever felt right. Just this frustrating hum of almost. Like your body was teetering on the edge of something big and just… refused to jump.
You’d end up sore. Agitated. Your legs would shake, but not the good kind. Your pussy would swell, throbbing like she was mocking you for trying.
It made you feel broken. Or worse—boring. Like your body was wired wrong. Like you’d missed the most basic feminine skill everyone else seemed to be born with.
Girls talked about cumming like it was breathing. Like they could do it in five minutes flat with one hand and a good imagination. You’d hear them talk about shaking through the sheets, arching off the bed, seeing stars—and you’d smile and nod and laugh along, pretending like you got it, like you knew what it was like to get wrecked by your own hand.
You’d never even come close.
You tried toys. You bought a vibrator and nearly cried when it did nothing but make your arms go numb. You tried grinding on pillows until the friction made you raw. You tried porn. You even tried watching yourself once in the mirror like some kind of twisted self-help therapy. Nothing worked.
You’d touch and touch and chase and beg for it in your head—please, just this once, just let me finish, please—and still end up breathless, sticky, empty.
You’d cry sometimes. Just a little. From the frustration of it. From the absolute humiliation of being so fucking horny and not being able to do anything about it.
You hated that about yourself. Hated the way your body seemed to enjoy the build and not the release. Hated the way your clit would throb for attention and then get overwhelmed the second you gave her any. Hated the need. The noise. The mess with no reward.
But the worst part—the actual worst part—was how much you still wanted it. How much you still tried. Like a dog chasing its own tail. Like some needy little loser who couldn’t leave it alone.
You were eighteen, for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to know your body by now. You were supposed to be able to make yourself cum. You were supposed to own your pleasure.
Instead, you were stuck with a pussy that got wet at the idea of being touched and then shut down the second you did.
It made you feel fucking insane.
So you gave up. Mostly. You still touched yourself when you needed to—when it built up too much and made your thighs ache. But it wasn’t about cumming anymore. It was maintenance. A reset button. A pressure valve. You did it in the dark, quietly, quickly, just to shut your body up.
You didn’t even think about pleasure anymore.
You didn’t dare.
-
Evie—Heejoo, but you only ever called her that when you wanted to piss her off—was your best friend in the world. Ride-or-die since ninth grade, bonded over a shared hatred of your chem teacher and the fact that neither of you fit into your school’s carefully manicured social circles.
Where you were sharp and quick with your mouth, she was soft-spoken and wide-eyed, just sweet enough to disarm anyone who got too close. You balanced each other out. She calmed your storm. You stirred hers.
You were over at her house so often it barely felt like visiting anymore. You knew the code to their garage door. You had your own toothbrush in her bathroom. Her mom kept your favorite cereal in the pantry like clockwork. You even had a drawer in her room, mostly old hoodies and stolen pajama shorts that smelled like her perfume.
It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the weekend there, or three nights in a row, or an entire spring break. Her parents didn’t mind. They liked knowing where you both were—liked having an extra body in the house, even if they never said it out loud.
And then there was Heeseung.
Her older brother. Four years up. Barely a presence.
When you were younger, he was just the older guy who sulked in his room and stole her chargers. Sometimes he’d give you a ride when Evie asked, sometimes he’d walk past you in the kitchen and grunt a greeting, but that was about it. He was there, and then he wasn’t—off to college, off to god knows where, vanishing from your life as quickly as he’d drifted through it.
You had a tiny crush on him once, freshman year. The kind that sparked quick and stupid, fed by his lazy smirk and the way he wore his backwards cap while fixing his car in the driveway. It died fast—suffocated by time and distance and his complete disinterest in acknowledging your existence beyond a nod or a side-eye.
By the time he moved back home post-grad, you barely noticed. He was older now, busier, always in his room with the door closed, voice low behind it, like he was on constant phone calls or late-night games or… something.
You didn’t think about him much. He was just Evie’s brother. Part of the background. White noise.
Your focus was always Evie.
She was the one who held your hair when you puked. The one who lent you a dress before every shitty date. The one who knocked on the bathroom door when you were taking too long and said, “You better not be edge-cumming again, bitch,” like it was the most normal sentence in the world.
She talked about sex like it was just part of the air. Blunt. Effortless. She could make herself cum in three minutes flat. She said it with confidence, like breathing.
You hated how easily it came to her. You loved her anyway.
You always felt safe in her house. Safe in her bed, tangled up under a shared blanket, legs overlapping like twins born too far apart. Her room smelled like vanilla and lip gloss and safety. It felt like yours.
-
The house settled around you like it always did—quiet, gentle, familiar in a way that made your muscles loosen and your brain drift. Even the silence felt padded here. The hum of the fridge downstairs, the occasional pop of cooling pipes, the subtle click of the thermostat shifting—background noise you’d grown so used to, it almost felt like home.
Evie was out cold beside you, one arm thrown carelessly across your stomach, her breath hot against your ribs. She always slept fast after wine. She always slept on you, too—like her body never quite understood boundaries even after all these years. You didn’t mind. It was comforting, the weight of her. Like a grounding wire for the anxious, electric static building low in your belly.
Sleep wasn’t coming for you, though.
You’d been lying there in the dark for the better part of an hour, phone dimmed to nearly unreadable brightness, eyes burning from the glow. Nothing on your feed caught your attention. You’d scrolled past the same content three times already, thumb swiping out of pure muscle memory.
Something restless twisted beneath your skin, persistent and irritating. Not quite horniness, not quite insomnia—just that same pulsing tension that had been sitting heavy between your legs all night. Like your body was trying to tell you something without using words. You shifted under the blanket, trying not to disturb Evie, thighs pressing tighter together to relieve the dull ache. It only made it worse.
The urge to do something about it had been growing for hours.
You’d thought about sneaking off to the bathroom. You’d done it before—quiet, quick, businesslike. Just enough friction to take the edge off before falling asleep, still unsatisfied but too tired to care. The idea barely tempted you anymore. You already knew how it would end: the usual mess of spit-slick fingers, your clit swollen and sore, pussy wet and pulsing and still refusing to give you anything real.
Just the thought of trying again made you clench your jaw.
It was pathetic, the way your body teased you. Wet for no reason. Needy without payout. Over and over again, like clockwork. Like punishment.
You turned your phone off with a quiet sigh and let the screen go black.
For a moment, all you could hear was the creak of the floorboards expanding under the weight of a settling house. A branch tapping against the window. The subtle drag of Evie’s breathing. You stared at the ceiling, tired but tense, willing yourself to shut down the frustration building behind your ribs.
A man’s voice, deep and casual, barely audible through the cracked bedroom doors. Not enough to make out words. Not yet. Just the soft cadence of speech, rising and falling like a secret being shared too close to the edge of the world.
Heeseung’s door was open. Or cracked. Just enough to let a sliver of sound spill out. You hadn’t even realized he was home tonight.
Your body stilled, like it always did when you felt watched—except this time, you were the one doing the watching. Listening, technically. Just barely.
There was a pause, then a laugh. Not his. Another voice. Someone else. Male. Maybe one of his friends from school, the ones who came and went without warning. You couldn’t place the sound, and you didn’t care.
Your focus sharpened the second Heeseung spoke again.
“It’s not that hard. Girls make it harder than it is."
“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”
The sentence dropped like a stone in the middle of your chest.
Not whispered. Not dirty. Just… stated. Like a law. Like fact.
Your fingers flexed unconsciously against the blanket. Heat flushed your neck and settled low in your belly, familiar and unwelcome. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
There was something about the way he said it. Not performative. Not like he was trying to sound cool. Just calm. Confident. Like the kind of guy who got women off without effort and never thought twice about why.
Every hair on your arm lifted. He didn’t stop there.
“And if she won’t listen…I’ll make her.”
No laughter followed that. No teasing. Just a quiet moment where it hung in the air, unchallenged.
You lay frozen in the dark, heart thudding, mouth slightly open. Your legs ached under the blanket, thighs tense and pressed together. You weren’t just turned on—you were caught. Cornered by something you weren’t supposed to hear and couldn’t let go of.
Something clicked. Not like a revelation, not some dramatic internal monologue, just… a shift. A tilt in the floor beneath your feet. A door opening in a room you didn’t realize you were trapped in.
You didn’t even know what you wanted in that moment.
But for the first time in your life, you wondered—really wondered—what your body would feel like under instructions that weren’t your own.
-
You tried not to think about it for the rest of the day. Swore you wouldn’t spiral.
You kept the overheard words tucked somewhere tight in your chest, smothered under fake laughter and half-listened stories while Evie walked you through her latest dating app disasters. You made it through brunch, through an entire Target run, through two face masks and one trashy Netflix documentary—and you almost convinced yourself you were over it.
But when the house quieted again that night—when Evie fell asleep curled up on the far side of the bed with her arm draped over a pillow instead of you—you gave in.
You waited a while. Just in case she wasn’t fully out. The kind of sleep that could crack open with the creak of floorboards.
And when her breathing evened out, soft and deep and oblivious, you slid out from under the blanket, grabbed your phone, and slipped into the hallway.
The bathroom door closed with a soft click behind you.
You didn’t turn the light on right away. Just stood there for a second in the dark, breathing.
The air was cooler here. The tiles cold against your feet. The smell of Evie’s shampoo still clung to the room—vanilla and something floral, sticky-sweet. You stared at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, barely visible in the silver sliver of hallway light. Your face looked flushed. Too open. Like something had already been peeled back.
You sat on the closed toilet lid, tugged your hoodie over your thighs, and pulled your phone into your lap.
No buildup. No browsing. You knew what you were looking for.
The video you always came back to. The closest thing you’d ever found to what worked. A deep voice. Slow instructions. Just audio—nothing to watch, nothing to focus on but sound.
It wasn’t him, but it didn’t have to be. Not yet.
Your underwear stuck to the heat between your thighs as you slid it down. Still wet from the tension that had been building since that morning. From the second you saw Heeseung in the kitchen and felt your legs press together automatically.
The wetness should’ve been a good sign.
But you already knew how this would go.
You played the video. Turned the volume down low. Closed your eyes.
Your fingers found your clit easily. Rubbed gentle circles, the way the voice said. You tried to breathe through it, tried to slow down, to listen.
There was too much pressure too soon. Your skin twitched with every touch. The angle was wrong. The rhythm never quite synced. Your body jerked between feeling almost there and feeling absolutely nothing.
You tried harder.
Tried picturing something—someone. His voice. His mouth. The way he looked at you this morning like you weren’t just Evie’s friend, like he saw something else.
That made your fingers move faster. Your hips twitch up from the seat, trying to find something—anything—that would tip you over.
But it never came.
Just heat. Just sweat. Just the same stinging tension in your thighs and the wave that built up, crested, and refused to break.
Your hand dropped. Your chest heaved with a breath that sounded too much like a sob.
You sat there for a full minute in silence, pussy swollen, twitching, soaking your hand—and still nothing. You hadn’t cum. Not even close.
Not even fucking close.
Your palm dragged across your inner thigh as you reached for toilet paper, the wet slick of your own arousal catching against your skin, obscene and bitter and useless. You wiped your hand clean, flushed, washed it under the tap in a daze.
Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, bottom lip bitten raw.
This wasn’t working.
You couldn’t do this by yourself. Not anymore.
The shame didn’t even hit you until you opened the door, stepped back into the hall, and looked toward Heeseung’s room.
You didn’t remember walking from the bathroom to his door. Not really. Your body moved on instinct, fingers still damp with failure, breath shallow and uneven like you’d been running—not down a hallway, but in circles inside your own skin. Everything felt hot and wrong, like you were standing too close to something dangerous and still leaning closer.
The light from under his door was soft, pale blue. The kind of glow that came from a computer screen and sleepless hours. It made the hallway feel colder. Your skin felt clammy beneath your hoodie, thighs still tacky with your own arousal, pulse thudding hard behind your ears. You didn’t even try to calm yourself before raising your hand. There wasn’t enough time. There wasn’t enough anything left.
You knocked.
Soft, quick. Regretted it immediately.
Nothing.
The silence on the other side stretched just long enough to make you feel stupid. You should’ve gone back to Evie’s room. Should’ve locked the bathroom door and buried your face in your hands like you always did. Should’ve swallowed the shame and left it to rot where it always did: at the bottom of your throat.
Your hand was already dropping when the doorknob turned.
Heeseung opened the door halfway, leaning into the frame, and for a second you couldn’t speak. You weren’t expecting him to look like that—hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, collar askew, hair a damp mess like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His sweatshorts hung low on his hips, legs bare, skin flushed warm like he’d just come out of the shower… or just come. You had no way of knowing which. And it made your brain short-circuit either way.
He didn’t look surprised to see you. Just confused.
His eyes dragged down your body with a slow kind of calculation, and you swore you saw the moment they caught on the way your thighs were pressed together, your bare legs twitching under the hem of your hoodie. The way your breath hitched in your throat. The way your fingers—still wet, still trembling—curled tighter at your side.
He blinked once, brows pulling in slightly.
“You good?”
The question was simple, quiet. But it hit like an echo in a room with no furniture. You were not good. Not even close.
Your voice came out before you could soften it. Flat, direct. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
He blinked again. Caught off guard this time.
“…What?”
“I just need to know,” you said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “Before I say anything. It matters.”
He stared at you for a beat, mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or suspicious.
“No. I don’t.”
You exhaled like someone had untied a knot inside your chest.
“Fuck.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “What?”
“If you said yes,” you muttered, eyes darting to the floor, “I would’ve had an excuse not to ask you.”
That made him pause.
He shifted his weight, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned into the doorframe like he was settling in. His voice was a little lower when he asked, “Ask me what?”
Your whole body burned. There was no easy way to say it. No casual phrasing. No safe distance between you and the truth anymore. You didn’t have the energy to dance around it.
“You said something last night,” you started, forcing yourself to look at him. “About girls who can’t finish. About how they’re not listening to their bodies.”
He watched you carefully. No expression, just the slow, measured study of a man waiting for the rest.
“I heard it,” you added. “By accident. But it’s been stuck in my head. And I thought—I don’t know, I thought maybe you were right.”
Still nothing. Just his gaze crawling over your face, down to your knees, like he was trying to see where this was going before letting himself speak.
You swallowed, the taste of failure still thick in your throat. “I tried again tonight. Bathroom. Just now. I’ve been trying for years, and it’s always the same. Nothing works. I can’t finish. I touch myself, and it just—goes nowhere.”
Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even know why you were telling him all this. You barely knew the guy. The last time you’d had a real conversation was probably three birthdays ago when he offered you a ride and you said no because he smelled like weed and fuckboy cologne.
But here you were. Standing in front of him like some half-dressed, sweat-slick confession, spilling everything.
And he still hadn’t said a word.
Your next breath shook as it left you.
“I don’t want you to touch me,” you said, quieter now. “I just want to ask… if you’d tell me what to do.”
That got something out of him. A small breath through his nose, not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief. His eyes dropped—lower this time—to your legs again, to the edge of your hoodie, to the bare skin flushed and prickling under the hallway air.
He nodded once toward you, chin tilting. “Your hand’s still wet.”
You froze.
His voice was low, unreadable. “You tried that hard, huh?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
He stepped back.
Just a few inches. Just enough to open the door wider. The light from inside poured out around him, cool and soft and full of static.
He held your gaze.
“Come in. Close the door behind you.”
The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and just like that, the house disappears. Evie’s room, the hallway, your entire carefully contained world—it all drops away. There’s only the low glow of his monitor casting pale blue light across the carpet and the quiet hum of something electric in the corner, like the room itself is holding its breath.
You hover near the door for a second, not sure what to do with your hands, your legs, your shame.
Heeseung’s already sitting, legs wide in his desk chair, turned toward you like he was waiting the whole night for this. He shifts, pushes himself up slightly, and drags the chair forward—lazily, unbothered—until it sits right in front of the bed. Close enough that if you spread your legs, he’d have a front-row seat.
Then he flips the chair around, straddling it backwards like some cocky delinquent in detention, arms crossed over the backrest, chin resting casually on top. His expression doesn’t change. He just watches you.
“Go ahead,” he says, voice calm and low, like this is just another Tuesday night. “Sit.”
You make your way to the bed, legs tense, breath shallow, and perch at the edge like it might bite. Your thighs clench on instinct, hoodie pulled low, trying to shield what you already know he’s seen. You’re still warm from the bathroom. Still soaked. Still aching.
His eyes drift down. Slow. Lazy. No shame.
You fidget.
Heeseung doesn’t move. “Don’t get shy on me now. You came in here asking for a masturbation lesson, not a bedtime story.”
Your lips twitch. You almost laugh. Almost.
He lifts his chin. “Tell me what you usually do.”
The question lands harder than it should. Not because it’s dirty, but because it’s so simple.
You blink. “Like… where I touch?”
“Yeah.”
You hesitate. “I usually just go straight to my clit.”
“Figures.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “And then what? Rub the fuck out of it ‘til it gets sore and wonder why it doesn’t work?”
Your mouth falls open in a small gasp. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs one shoulder, unbothered. “Don’t take it personal. That’s what most girls do. It’s not your fault you think the goal is speed over sense.”
You don’t respond, but your silence is answer enough.
He leans in a little, forearms resting on the chair back, gaze glued to your bare thighs. There’s no hunger in it—not yet. Just observation. Like he’s assessing you.
“If your pussy had a voice,” he says smoothly, “she’d be screaming at you to chill the fuck out.”
You’re quiet for a long second. Because the worst part is… he’s not wrong.
He watches you squirm, and something like amusement passes over his features. Not cruel, but smug.
“Take your time,” he says, gentler now. “You rush her, she locks up. Doesn’t matter how wet you are.”
“…She?” you murmur, lifting a brow.
Heeseung shrugs again, like it’s obvious. “Yeah. She.” His eyes flick to yours. “You don’t gotta name her or write poetry about her, but you should probably stop treating her like a vending machine.”
Your laugh breaks before you can stop it. Quick and sharp, nerves bleeding out of your throat. “You’re so annoying.”
“And yet, you’re still here,” he says with a smirk, eyes dark. “Go on. Show me how you start.”
Everything tightens. You feel the weight of his voice low in your belly.
You don’t move right away.
He raises a brow. “You said you didn’t want me to touch you. That’s cool. But I need to see what you’re doing wrong.”
Your breath hitches.
Your hand moves on instinct—slow, shaky—and dips beneath the hem of your hoodie, then under the band of your panties. You’re already wet. Embarrassingly wet. And when your fingers graze over your clit, you flinch. It’s too sensitive. Too much. Your hips jerk a little, and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow the motion.
You rub. Once. Twice. It’s not bad. It’s what you always do.
But still—nothing clicks.
Heeseung tilts his head. “You’re too stiff.”
“I’m nervous,” you admit quietly.
“Don’t be.” His voice drops half an octave. “You look hot.”
The way he says it—it doesn’t sound like a compliment. Just a fact. Like he’s telling you what time it is. Like your soaked fingers and clenched thighs are something he’s been picturing all night.
“You’re thinking too much,” he adds. “Trying to force it instead of feel it.”
Your hand stills.
He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now, more intimate. “Try this. Press your hand flat. Just hold her. No rubbing. No tapping. Just… feel her.”
You hesitate, then obey.
The flat of your hand settles between your legs, heat blooming up your arm from the contact. Your whole body clenches around it.
“Feel that?”
You nod. Barely.
“That’s what she likes,” he murmurs. “You’ve been poking at her like she’s a fucking keyboard. No wonder she’s not putting out.”
You let out a breathy laugh—half scandalized, half aroused. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re soaking through your panties,” he says, deadpan.
Your breath catches. Heeseung doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t look away.
He sits there like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he’s doing you a favor. Like he’s enjoying this. You’re not even sure he’s hard yet—but he will be. You can feel it building. Between you. In you.
He lets the moment hang.
Then: “Now—slow circles. Don’t speed up unless she tells you to.”
“She doesn’t talk,” you whisper, teasing without confidence.
His gaze is heavy. Steady.
“She does,” he says, voice like heat sliding under your skin. “You just haven’t been listening.”
The room feels hotter now.
Not just the air—your skin, your mouth, your thighs. Sweat clings to the backs of your knees, damp beneath the bunched-up hoodie, and your panties are so wet they’re practically glued to one thigh. Your hips keep twitching without your permission, rolling up slightly with every pass of your fingers. It’s not graceful. It’s not some porn fantasy. It’s messy and uneven and real, and Heeseung is watching every second of it like it’s the only thing worth watching.
You keep thinking you should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. You’re spread open on his bed, hand stuffed between your legs, whining softly every time you stroke a little too hard and have to ease back again—but you’re too far gone now to stop. Your cheeks are flushed, lashes wet, lips parted, and you can’t look away from him.
He hasn’t blinked once.
Heeseung is still straddling the backward chair, elbows resting on the top, chin on one hand like this is casual. Normal. Like you’re just some half-naked girl jerking off in front of him for practice and he’s your substitute teacher for the night.
The only thing that’s changed is his posture.
His knees are spread wider than before. His forearms are tense. One hand grips the edge of the chair a little tighter every time your body jerks, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes every time your breath stutters or your voice cracks.
You’re doing this to him.
But not enough.
Not enough to make it stop hurting. Not enough to make the ache go away. Not enough to finish.
You’re trying. God, you’re trying.
Your fingers rub in slow circles, not too fast now. You’re listening. You are. But your body keeps tensing at the edge, like it’s scared to fall off the cliff it’s been building for years. Your hand’s cramping. Your clit throbs. Your stomach clenches like you’re close—and then it dips, again and again.
It’s good. So good.
But it’s not enough.
You choke on a frustrated sound, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and your free hand fists the blanket beneath you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
Heeseung speaks, finally, voice low and steady. “Still rushing her.”
“I’m not,” you whisper.
“You are. I can see it.”
You shake your head, breath stuttering. “I’m not trying to—I swear, I’m—” You gasp. “It’s just—it’s not—”
You stop. Words catch in your throat. Your hips are rocking now, involuntarily, chasing a sensation that keeps pulling away the second you get close. Your fingers are wet, your pussy’s pulsing, and it still feels like you’re just rubbing up against a wall.
“It’s not enough,” you breathe out, broken. “I—I can’t—fuck—she’s not listening.”
Heeseung leans forward slightly, something sharp flashing in his eyes.
“Oh, she’s listening,” he says. “You’re just not talking to her the right way.”
You whimper. “Then tell me what to say.”
That makes his mouth twitch—just barely. Like he’s been waiting for that.
“Tell me what she’s feeling first.”
“I—” Your voice cracks. “She’s tight. Warm. I feel her—pulsing. Like she wants something but—she’s not opening.”
He tilts his head slightly, gaze dark. “She wants to be filled.”
You nod.
“No,” he says. “Say it.”
Your chest heaves. Your hand hasn’t stopped moving, rubbing slow, desperate circles around your clit. “She wants to be filled.”
“Say it like you mean it.”
“She wants to be fucking filled,” you whine. “She’s throbbing—she’s soaking—fuck, I can feel her squeezing nothing.”
Heeseung exhales slowly, eyes flicking down between your legs again.
“There you go,” he murmurs. “Now she’s talking.”
Your fingers glide lower, catching more slick and sliding back up. Everything’s soaked. You’re dripping down onto the sheets, and your thighs are trembling from the strain of keeping your hips lifted just right.
“She needs more,” you pant. “She’s clenching—she’s starving—”
Heeseung’s hand flexes around the edge of the chair again. His voice drops, almost to a growl. “So feed her.”
You moan—high and breathy—and press harder, circling your clit faster now, the way your body wants. Your lips are wet, your fingers slipping, but it doesn’t matter. Everything is slick and hot and alive.
“You’re soaked,” he mutters, eyes burning into you. “Look at your fucking fingers.”
You do. It’s obscene. Your hand shines in the light, your fingers coated in slick. You barely recognize your own body like this. Ruined. Responsive.
“She’s begging,” he says softly. “And you’re finally listening.”
You whine, eyes squeezing shut. Your free hand presses against your lower belly, trying to hold the heat in. Your pussy twitches at the pressure.
“She’s so fucking greedy,” you gasp. “She won’t stop pulling—I can’t—I can’t keep up—”
“You don’t have to,” he says. “She knows what she’s doing. Let her take it.”
You don’t even realize how loud you’ve gotten until you hear yourself moan again—shameless, cracked open, shaking from the inside out.
Your legs spread wider. You’re not trying to hide anymore. Not from him. Not from yourself.
You’re right there.
You’re going to break.
He’s just watching. Like it’s his favorite thing he’s ever seen.
You’re right on the edge, and this time it’s not teasing.
It’s sharp. Fast. Inevitable.
Your legs are trembling now, hips jerking with every motion, and your fingers are soaked—slipping against your clit, coating your inner thighs, dripping down the crease of your ass like your body’s trying to fuck itself open. Every stroke sends another wave of tension through you, and there’s no holding it anymore. Your body is begging. Your pussy’s leaking, twitching, clenching around nothing—and Heeseung watches like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
You don’t even realize you’re moaning until you hear it echo back at you in the small room. High-pitched. Desperate. Wet.
The sound of your pussy is louder now too. Sticky and obscene, each rub slicker than the last. You can hear it every time you roll your hips into your palm.
Heeseung doesn’t say a word for a second too long.
You lift your head, eyes glazed over, panting.
His eyes are darker now. Half-lidded. Focused on your pussy like he’s reading it better than your face.
He shifts in his chair. Spreads his knees wider. His hand dips into the front of his sweatshorts, slow and casual, like he can’t ignore it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his fingers wrapping around himself—and your breath catches so hard your vision blurs.
He’s so hard.
His voice comes out deeper. Filthy. Measured like it’s the only thing anchoring him in the room.
“Look at that messy little cunt.”
Your body jerks at the word. You’ve never heard it said like that. Never felt it hit like that.
Heeseung strokes himself once, slow and firm under the fabric.
“She’s drooling all over your fingers. So fucking hungry. Bet she’s never been this loud for you before.”
“She hasn’t,” you breathe. “She never—she never—”
“You’ve been starving her,” he says, still jerking himself lazily. “Touching her like she’s a problem instead of a fucking meal.”
Your hand speeds up, and he sees it. Hears the slap of slick. You’re humping into your fingers now, sloppy and desperate and so close you could scream.
Heeseung leans forward, one elbow braced against the back of the chair.
“You wanna cum, baby?”
You nod frantically, but it’s not enough.
“Use your words.”
Your voice comes out cracked. “Yes. Please—I wanna cum—I need it—”
“Need what?” he pushes.
“I need her to fucking break,” you sob. “She’s clenching—she’s begging—she needs to cum, she needs it—”
“Then let her,” he growls. “Don’t fucking hold it. Let her make a mess.”
You whimper, fingers frantic, back arching off the bed.
And that’s when he says it—low and hot and foul.
“Let her fuck your fingers, slut.”
You snap.
Your body locks up, then shatters. You cum so hard your legs shake, hips jerking forward, thighs squeezing around your own hand as your pussy gushes over your fingers in sticky, messy waves. The moan that rips from your throat is broken, cracked, half-wet from tears.
It doesn’t hit you right away.
At first, there’s just white. Blinding. A full-body seizure of pleasure as your cunt clenches around nothing, soaking your own fingers, mouth open in a moan that doesn’t even sound like you.
It crashes over you fast. Wet. Messy.
You cum harder than you ever have in your life—harder than you thought was even possible—and your body just keeps going, hips jerking, slick dripping past your knuckles, your voice cracking on every gasp.
Heeseung is still there.
You know he is. You can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath in the space between your bodies, but you can’t look at him. Not right now. Not like this.
And then it fades.
That warm, bright static in your brain flickers out. Your thighs twitch. Your hand finally drops, fingers soaked, wrist aching, clit too sensitive to touch again.
What’s left is the sound of your breathing. The slick, wet mess beneath your hips. The embarrassment flooding in all at once like a second wave.
Reality slams back into you hard.
You’re laid out across his bed—sweaty, flushed, thighs spread wide and soaked all the way down to the crease of your ass. Your pussy’s still twitching, swollen and glistening, your panties bunched at one knee, hoodie halfway pushed up your stomach.
Your fingers shine in the low light. Still wet. Still shaking.
You sit up fast, panic sweeping over your skin like ice water. “Shit—fuck.”
Your hand fumbles to pull your hoodie down, yanking it over your thighs, shoving your panties back into place even though they’re absolutely soaked through. The fabric clings wetly to your pussy and only makes the mess feel worse.
Heeseung hasn’t moved.
Still in the chair. Still one hand inside his shorts. He looks completely unbothered. Calm. Like you didn’t just cum your entire soul out in front of him.
You can’t meet his eyes.
He watches you fuss with the hem of your hoodie, your hands still trembling slightly as you try to make yourself look decent.
“Didn’t say stop,” he says mildly.
You glare at him, cheeks burning. “I came. Pretty sure that’s the goal, right?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Just surprised you’re acting all shy now. That pussy was practically talking thirty seconds ago.”
“Jesus—” you squeeze your eyes shut, bury your face in your hands.
Heeseung grins. Not mean. Not mocking. Just amused.
“You do realize how loud you were, right?” he adds. “I thought the bed was gonna snap in half.”
“Please stop talking,” you groan, voice muffled.
“You were crying,” he says like it’s a compliment, hand still lazily palming himself under his shorts. “That shit was beautiful.”
You peek at him through your fingers. He’s still hard. Still watching you with that same steady calm, like this is fine. Like this is normal.
He doesn’t even seem fazed.
That somehow makes the ache between your legs flare again. Weak, overstimulated, but greedy.
You clear your throat. “I didn’t realize I—um. That I could… do that.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Cum?”
You shoot him a look.
Heeseung laughs, finally letting go of himself. “You’ve been fighting her for years. All I did was give you directions.”
You tuck your knees up into your chest, arms wrapped around them. You feel like you just stripped naked in front of someone who stayed fully clothed—and now he’s just lounging there like you didn’t just show him the most private part of yourself.
You sit in that awkward silence for a few seconds longer.
Heeseung stretches, chair creaking slightly. “So,” he says, tone casual. “Lesson two tomorrow?”
You blink.
“…There’s a second lesson?”
He smiles slow, eyes dropping to your thighs again. “You think she’s done learning?”
Your pussy twitches beneath your soaked panties.
-
Your legs are still weak from the first night when you leave.
Just a few days back home. Just a quick visit. You didn’t think it would matter—but the second you cross the county line, your pussy starts aching like she knows she’s been abandoned. Like she misses his voice already.
You think about texting him before you even unpack your overnight bag.
It starts that fast—barely through the front door, barely through dinner with your parents, barely through pretending to care about someone’s new side hustle or whatever cousin just had a baby, and already your mind is slipping.
Already you’re restless. Already your body feels too awake. You can still feel the slick sticking to the inside of your thighs from last night, from the way he sat in that chair like he was doing you a favor while you touched yourself for the first time like it meant something. It hasn’t gone away. The ache stayed with you.
That trembling throb between your legs that didn’t fade after one orgasm—or two—or three. And now, here you are. Sitting in your childhood bedroom like you didn’t just learn how to listen to your pussy in someone else’s bed with someone else’s voice in your ear.
You last all of twelve hours. Maybe thirteen if you count sleep, but that’s cheating. You keep checking your phone like a freak. Not even for a message—just to see his name.
You scroll through the notifications like maybe he’ll magically show up. You open his contact. Stare at the little circle icon. You type a text. Delete it.
Type again. Delete. Pace the room. Pull your hair up. Let it fall. Lie on the bed. Toss the blanket off. Roll onto your stomach, then your back, then sit up again because your body’s too hot and your thoughts won’t stop dragging back to the sound of his voice saying “Good girl. She’s listening now.”
You try to distract yourself. Put music on. Stare at the ceiling. Scroll through reels. But the tension is building and it’s not casual. It’s deep. It’s mean.
Like your pussy’s crawling up your spine and whispering call him over and over again. And finally, like a fucking addict, you give in.
You don’t try to be subtle. Your fingers tremble as you type the message—“Can I call you?”—and hit send before you can regret it. Your breath catches in your throat. Heart pounding. Shame twisting in your gut like you’ve already crossed a line and he hasn’t even replied. But then your phone buzzes. Two texts in a row. You click without thinking.
No. I’ll call you.
Speaker on. Hands ready. Nothing else.
You don’t even get a second to prepare. The call comes in instantly, and you fumble to answer it, press speaker, toss the phone onto your pillow and sit back, legs shaking under your blanket. You’re wearing nothing but a big t-shirt—no bra, no panties. Like your body already knew what was coming.
His voice is in your ear the second the line connects.
Low. Thick. Wrecked.
“You waited all day just to fuck yourself to my voice, didn’t you?”
The sound alone makes your thighs clamp together. You can’t answer. You don’t know what to say. You feel called out, ruined, exposed, and he hasn’t even seen you.
“You’re pathetic,” he breathes, and it’s not cruel—it’s reverent. Like he’s turned on by the depth of your desperation. “You left for less than twenty-four hours and she’s already starving.”
Your breath comes out shaky. “She hasn’t shut up.”
“I bet. That little pussy’s been crying for attention, hasn’t she? Soaking your panties, throbbing for no reason. Did you even try to touch her?”
Your hand slides down your stomach. Shame floods your chest. “I tried last night.”
“And?”
Your fingers drift over your mound, soft and slow.
“…Didn’t work.”
“Of course it didn’t.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because she’s not trained to your fingers. She’s trained to my voice.”
You nearly choke.
“Take the blanket off.”
You do.
“T-shirt stays. I want you messy under it. Like a filthy little secret.”
You obey, chest rising. The air hits your bare skin and your nipples pebble instantly under the thin cotton. You slide your hand under the hem and find yourself dripping already—your folds slippery and warm, your clit throbbing at the first brush.
“Fuck. You’re already wet.”
You don’t answer.
“Don’t ignore me. Say it.”
You whimper. “I’m wet.”
“Where?”
Your hand slides lower. “Everywhere.”
“Let me hear it.”
You drag your fingers through your folds, then lift them to the mic.
Squish. Slick. Wet.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “She’s fucking leaking for me.”
“She won’t stop,” you pant. “She’s been clenching—she’s needy. I can’t—I can’t even think straight.”
“She doesn’t need you to think. She needs you to listen.”
You nod like he can see you.
“You touching your clit yet?”
“No,” you whisper. “Just teasing.”
“Don’t tease her. Feed her.”
You obey. Your fingers find your clit and press slow, warm circles into the swollen skin. Your hips twitch immediately. Your body jolts with relief. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“Fuck. That’s it. Let her roll her hips. Let her grind on your fingers.”
You do.
And you moan. Loud. Wet. Pathetic.
“You sound like you’re crying.”
“I might be,” you choke out. “I’m—I’ve been on edge all day. She’s screaming—”
“Then shut her up.”
Your fingers move faster. Your breath turns ragged. The slick is everywhere now—coating your palm, sliding down your ass, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can hear it—slap, slap, slap—and you know he can too.
“God, listen to her,” he says. “She’s fucking talking again. Slapping wet, loud as hell, crying to be filled.”
Your thighs start to shake.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
“Heeseung—fuck, I’m close—”
“She wants to cum. So let her.”
You cum hard, back arching, legs tensed, voice cracking open around a sob as your pussy convulses around nothing—just your fingers, just your shame, just his voice dragging it out of you with nothing but command.
“Again,” he growls. “Don’t you dare take your hand off her. You begged for this. You waited all fucking day for it.”
You keep going. Because you can’t stop. Because this is his now.
-
You don’t get a break.
Heeseung doesn’t let you.
After that first call—the one where you came so hard you swore you saw stars—you thought maybe the tension would ease up. Maybe you’d get to breathe. But you don’t. Because the second you wake up the next morning, there’s already a text waiting for you.
Morning. She hungry?
Your pussy clenches on reflex.
You bite your lip, cheeks flushing under the covers.
Yes.
His reply is instant.
Good. edge yourself until you’re shaking. No cumming. No cheating. You’ll send me a pic of your fingers when you’re done.
That’s it. No teasing. No sweet talk. Just commands. Direct. Cruel. And of course—you obey.
You finger yourself that morning with shaking hands, grinding into your palm in the silence of your old bedroom with one hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. You stop just short of release three times. Your panties are soaked. The sheets beneath you are ruined.
You send the photo.
Two slick fingers, gleaming. One droplet hanging from your wrist like a taunt.
He doesn’t reply until hours later.
Beautiful. Don’t clean her up. Let her stick to your skin. I want her to haunt you all day.
That’s how it starts.
Sometimes it’s a call. Sometimes it’s just a photo prompt. Sometimes it’s voice notes—low, slow, whispered filth that you replay in the bathroom on full volume with your thighs clenched so tight you can barely breathe.
Another day: make a mess on your favorite pair of panties. Send proof. Don’t wash them. Fold them and put them in your drawer like a secret. Like she remembers.
When you can’t call—family dinners, company in the house, a wedding event—he doesn’t complain. He just adapts.
He sends you three voice notes in a row, each one filthier than the last.
“Are you wearing panties right now?”
“She’s wet just from this, isn’t she?”
“Put your phone between your legs. Let my voice buzz against her while you grind.”
You do. In the middle of the day. On the edge of your childhood bed. With the door locked and your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of you cumming on command.
Every time you text him, he knows what you need before you say it.
On your knees. Two fingers. Say my name when you finish. That’s all.
You cum like a trained animal.
By the end of the fourth day, you’re overstimulated and aching. Your cunt stays warm. Your clit stays swollen. You can’t think straight without hearing his voice. You can’t fall asleep without a pillow between your legs and your phone under your ear, replaying the way he said your name like it tasted good.
He doesn’t let you get comfortable.
I want her ruined by the time you get back. Wet stains on your thighs. Bruised from your own fingers. No excuses. You belong to me now, yeah?
-
You’re at the dinner table when the text comes in.
There’s a bowl of pasta in front of you. Your uncle’s talking about traffic. Your mom’s pouring more wine. And your phone buzzes in your lap—one tiny, harmless vibration you almost ignore until you see the name on your lockscreen.
Heeseung.
Your chest tightens immediately. A hot ripple runs down your spine. You unlock it under the table, heart already picking up speed, thighs pressed tight together like that’s gonna help anything.
You expect a voice note. Maybe an instruction. Instead, it’s just a single message.
Don’t open this here. I’m serious.
You excuse yourself. Bathroom. You try to walk casually, but your legs feel unstable, like your body knows what’s coming and is bracing for it. You shut the door. Lock it. Sit down on the closed toilet seat. And then you open the message.
It’s not a photo. Not a voice note. Just a block of text.
And it destroys you.
I want you dripping. Right now. I want your thighs sticky. I want your pussy hot and twitching and swollen like she’s just been edged for an hour and she’s still not allowed to cum. I want her pulsing around nothing. Squeezing air. Leaking like she misses my cock even though she’s never had it. That’s how good I want her trained. That she misses me even though I’ve never fucked her.
I want you to slide your hand into your panties and feel her spit for me. Feel how filthy she’s gotten just from reading my words. Not even hearing my voice. Just letters on a screen and she’s frothing like a brainless little thing. I want her throbbing. Sore. Pink. Aching.
I want you to pull your panties to the side and look at what I’ve done to you. How she opens for nothing. How she clenches for nothing. How she cries, fucking cries, when she doesn’t get touched. I want her messy. Slutty. Wet enough to embarrass you. Wet enough you can’t clean it up with one tissue. Wet enough that if someone walked into that bathroom right now, they’d smell her.
No fingers. Not yet. Just pressure. Palm down. Let her hump. Let her grind. Let her get yourself dirty. She knows what to do. She doesn’t need permission anymore. You’re gonna leak down your leg just reading this, aren’t you? She’s already twitching. Already soaking. She knows what she is now. A thing that exists to be used. To be made wet. To be trained.
You stare at your screen. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.
And you feel it—that slow, steady drip.
You slide your hand down between your legs and whimper when your fingers meet your panties—soaked through. Hot and sticky, your folds puffy and swollen, everything throbbing with need.
You spread your legs wider. There’s no stopping it. You have to.
You push your panties aside, just like he said, and when you look down, your cunt is shining. Slick lips parted, clit swollen and begging, a string of wet clinging between your folds when you breathe too hard.
You cup her with your whole palm and rock once.
You grind again. Harder. The heel of your hand pressing directly on your clit. Your hips move faster, panting now, forehead pressed against your bent knee as your pussy humps your own hand like she’s starved.
You’re fucking yourself with no fingers. Just pressure. Just filth. Just his words rotting your brain and your pussy loving it.
You don’t stop until your legs lock, jaw clenched tight to muffle the moan that rips through your throat. Your pussy convulses, grinding down hard, cumming in waves against your own palm until you’re crying silently, thighs soaked, panties a mess, body twitching from the force of it.
When it’s over, you’re wrecked. You sit there in silence. Breathing heavy. Panties still pulled to the side, hand drenched, cunt gaping and twitching like she’s still looking for him.
You snap a photo.
Not of your face. Just your hand. Soaked. Ruined. Slick covering your wrist, dripping down your knuckles.
You send it. No caption. A minute later, his reply lights up your screen.
That’s how she’s supposed to look. Every day until you get home.
-
You don’t even knock.
You could, but what’s the point? He told you to come over as soon as you got back. No texts. No warning. Just a short message yesterday night:
You better show up dripping.
And you are.
The shorts you wore are damp at the crotch, your hoodie clinging to the sweat on your lower back. Every shift of your thighs against the car seat on the drive over made you squirm. By the time you’re standing in front of his door, your cunt is throbbing. Empty. Trained. Starving.
He opens it like he already knew you were there.
Barefoot. Hoodie. Nothing underneath.
He stares at you for a second, quiet. His eyes drop to your legs, to the way you’re fidgeting, clenching, trying not to press your thighs together. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t speak.
Just opens the door wider and lets you in.
You step past him. Silent. Heat prickling under your skin. His presence is loud, even without words. You can feel the pressure building already—your pussy knows. She’s aware. Aware of the air, of the scent of him, of how close he is now after five days of only hearing him through a speaker.
He closes the door behind you. And waits.
You turn to him, hands still curled into your sleeves. “I did everything.”
He lifts a brow. “Yeah?”
You nod. Swallow hard. “Every day.”
Heeseung steps forward slowly. Stops in front of you. His eyes flick down, over your body, like he’s looking for confirmation.
“You leaking?”
Your breath catches. “Yes.”
“Prove it.”
Your heart slams against your ribs. But you don’t hesitate.
Your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down in one smooth motion. They hit the floor and you step out of them, bare underneath, thighs sticky and glistening. Your hoodie barely covers your hips now. One inch higher and he’d see everything.
He doesn’t touch you.
“Show me,” he says, voice low.
Your breath hitches again—but you drop to your knees. Not because he asked. Because your body knows what to do now.
You kneel between his feet on the hardwood floor, hands moving to part your thighs so he can see. You pull the hoodie up to your waist and slide two fingers between your folds—dripping. It spreads so easily. Glossy. Viscous. Your pussy folds open for your own touch like it’s nothing new. Like she’s been practicing all week.
You keep your eyes on him the whole time.
And when your fingers come back up, soaked and glistening, you hold them out. Heeseung watches you in silence.
Then leans forward, slow and deliberate. He takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks—deep, slow, tongue curling around them like it’s a reward.
Your hips jerk slightly. Your cunt clenches hard. He pulls off with a wet pop and stares down at you.
“She tastes trained.”
You nod.
“She beg yet?”
You exhale. “She never shut up.”
He clicks his tongue. “Yeah?”
Then he grabs your jaw. Fingers firm but not rough, tilting your face up to his.
“You want her filled?”
You nod again. “Please.”
“Not yet,” he says. “She’s not ready.”
“I’m ready—she’s so ready, I’ve been—”
“I don’t care what you think. You’re not here to make decisions. You’re here to do what I say.” He lets go of your face. “You wanna get fed? Earn it. Lay down. Show me how she begs.”
You scramble onto the bed.
Flat on your back. Legs spread. Cunt on display. Dripping.
You’re already on your back, knees drawn up, thighs spread and trembling, cunt pulsing with heat that’s been building all week. You don’t try to hide it. You can’t. Your pussy’s wet. Loud. Lips glossy and parted, folds flushed and twitching like she knows the moment has finally come. She’s been teased. Trained. Denied. You’ve been filling her with fingers and pressure and your own voice, but never this. Never him. And now he’s standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like he’s finally ready to eat.
But he doesn’t touch you first.
He picks your shorts up off the floor, turns them inside out—and finds your soaked panties tangled in the legs. He peels them out slowly, sticky with your slick, the thin fabric darkened and clinging to itself. You watch, breath caught, legs still open, burning with shame as he brings them up to his face.
And sniffs.
Deep.
He inhales like it’s a fucking ritual. Eyes half-lidded. Thumb pressing into the crotch to smear the wetness around before dragging it across his lip. His tongue flicks out—tastes it.
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “She’s been marinating in this.”
Your body jolts. Your hands fist the sheets.
“She’s loud, too.” His voice drops lower. “I haven’t even touched her and she’s already talking. Look at her. Fucking twitching. Dripping. Spreading herself open like she knows who she belongs to.”
“Heeseung—” You whimper.
“Shut up.”
He tosses your panties to the side and climbs onto the bed, slow and smooth, eyes never leaving your cunt. He settles between your legs and just kneels there for a moment. Breathing her in. Hands on your thighs. Pushing them wider. Spreading you so open you can feel the air hit your slick.
You’re soaked. You know it. You can feel it, the slick sliding down into the dip of your ass, the way your folds part with every breath, your clit poking out, hot and swollen.
He just stares.
“You fucking trained her like this,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You really did it. Came like a good little slut every night just to keep her hungry.”
“She’s starving,” you whisper, voice shaking.
“I can see that.”
His thumbs press into the crease of your thighs, holding you open. His face lowers. Inches away. His breath hits your folds and your hips twitch violently.
He doesn’t lick you.
Not yet.
He just hovers. His nose skims your inner thigh. Then up. Right up the slick slit, dragging his breath across your folds until your body shudders. He breathes her in again—this time slower. Longer. Right at the source.
“God,” he mutters. “She fucking smells like obedience.”
You sob.
And then he spits.
Right on your pussy.
Hot. Heavy. Messy.
It splashes over your clit, drips between your folds, mixes with your slick and makes everything worse.
Your hips roll. You can’t stop it.
“Don’t you fucking move,” he growls. “She’s getting attention. She better stay still.”
And finally—finally—his tongue drags up your slit. A long, slow lick from hole to clit that ends with his mouth wrapped around it, sucking hard.
Your hands fly to his hair. Your spine arches off the bed.
But he pins you with one forearm across your stomach and doesn’t stop.
He eats you like a man starved. Like you’ve been feeding her for him. Keeping her ready. Keeping her needy. His mouth is everywhere—tongue licking up everything you’ve been saving, spit and slick and mess pooling under your ass while he moans into you.
“That’s it,” he groans against your clit. “Let me taste five fucking days of begging.”
You cry out, thighs clenching.
But he slaps your pussy with his hand—sharp, wet, punishing.
“Open.”
You go limp. You can’t fight it. You don’t want to.
He eats you like it’s personal. Tongue flat. Licking. Circling. Spitting again. Your clit’s too swollen, too sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He mumbles into you—filth you can barely understand because he’s too focused on devouring.
“She’s so fucking loud. She won’t shut up. You hear that?”
You do.
Your pussy makes noise with every lick—squelching, wet, obscene.
“I didn’t even fuck her yet,” he growls. “And she’s already creaming.”
You try to cum. You try.
But he pulls back just as your thighs start to shake, just as your stomach seizes.
“Nope. She’s not getting fed all the way until I’ve felt her on my cock.”
You nod frantically, fingers gripping the sheets, desperate.
Heeseung leans back, licking his lips, chin soaked, eyes wild.
“She’s ready,” he says. “She’s starving.”
He’s already got two fingers hooked inside you when he tells you to open your mouth.
Not to kiss him. Not to speak. Just to take it.
He shoves his fingers past your lips—soaked in your own slick, the same fingers he’s been curling deep inside your cunt, dragging against that spot that makes your eyes roll back. You gag around them, moaning as the taste floods your tongue—salty, sour, yours. He pushes them down onto your tongue, presses hard until your spit leaks out around them and drips down your chin.
“Swallow it,” he mutters, eyes locked on your face. “That’s what obedience tastes like.”
You do. Of course you do.
Because you’d do anything he says.
And he knows it.
He wipes the slick from your lips with his thumb, drags it down your throat, then shifts forward—kneeling between your trembling thighs, lining himself up with your soaked entrance like he’s been waiting years for this moment.
You stare down at his cock, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip, and your whole body tenses. You’re already open, already dripping, already fucked dumb—but none of it’s going to prepare you for this.
“Look at her,” he mutters under his breath, dragging the head of his cock through your folds, smearing pre-cum across your clit. “She’s fucking begging.”
“She wants it,” you pant, voice shaking. “Please—”
He doesn’t give you time to finish.
He presses in—slow, deep, cruel.
The stretch hits you all at once. Your back arches. Your breath leaves you in a choked gasp, and your pussy clenches hardaround him, sucking him in inch by inch like she never wants to let him go.
“Ohhh, fuck,” he groans. “She’s trained alright.”
You moan. Loud. Desperate. Writhing beneath him as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass, his cock buried all the way to the base.
She’s full.
Finally fucking full.
Your cunt grips him tight, fluttering around his cock like she’s been starving for it—and she has. Every inch of him hits something you didn’t know existed. Your body shakes under the pressure. You’re soaked. Stuffed. Used. And you want more.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she is.”
“She’s yours,” you gasp. “She’s a hole—your hole—she’s been waiting for this—”
He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.
You scream.
“You’re goddamn right she’s mine,” he snarls. “You trained her just to take my cock.”
You nod frantically, crying now, pleasure too thick in your throat to hold back.
He starts to fuck you in earnest—hard, relentless, loud. Skin slapping skin. His cock slick from your wetness, dragging through every twitch and squeeze, pressing deep, deeper, forcing your body to stay open for him. You feel it in your stomach. Your spine. Your fucking brain.
Every thrust knocks your thoughts loose. And you want to thank him. You want to feel him. You want to taste him.
So you lift your head—try to kiss him.
You lean up, lips parting, mouth open and begging.
He pulls back.
His hand grabs your throat, presses you flat into the mattress. You gasp, eyes wide, blinking up at him in confusion. He smiles. Cruel. Mocking.
“No,” he says coldly. “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”
Your breath shatters.
“Kisses are for good girls,” he spits. “You’re just a trained little hole.”
Your pussy clenches around him so violently he groans.
“That’s all you are now, isn’t it?” he sneers. “A stupid little cunt that opens on command. You get used, not kissed.”
Tears spill over your cheeks.
And you cum. Just like that.
From the words. From the shame. From the humiliation.
Your pussy spasms around his cock, soaking both of you as you scream into his hand still wrapped around your throat. Your hips jerk. Your vision goes white. But he doesn’t stop.
He fucks you through it, hips pounding, cock punching into your oversensitive cunt like he’s trying to reprogram you from the inside out.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Let her milk me. Let her show me how much she needed this.”
You’re sobbing. Gasping. Too wrecked to speak.
“Fucking knew it,” he groans. “You were never gonna be satisfied until you got split open.”
He leans down, mouth right by your ear.
“But don’t ever reach for a kiss again. Sluts like you don’t get kissed.”
You’re already limp when he flips you.
Your body gives out so easily—shoulders pressed into the mattress, arms numb, legs trembling, hips cocked up on instinct the second he yanks you onto your stomach. His hands drag you by the waist like a ragdoll. Like something boneless, brainless, ruined. Your face is buried in the pillow. Your cheek sticks to the fabric. You’re crying, still, but there’s no shame left. Just the raw ache of your cunt pulsing around nothing—because he pulled out.
You whine, pathetic and wordless, hips rolling back into the air, leaking down your thighs.
“Still hungry?” he mutters behind you.
You nod into the pillow.
“Say it.”
“She’s empty,” you whimper. “She’s twitching—she wants you back in—she’s not done—she’s never done—”
You gasp when the head of his cock slides back in. Just the tip.
He doesn’t give you the rest.
You wiggle. Cry. Press your ass back against him and moan when your folds stretch again, split open all over his length.
“You trained her to take it,” he says. “Now you’re gonna train her to keep it.”
He presses forward.
His cock buries to the hilt in one brutal thrust, and your whole body spasms. Your hands claw at the sheets. Your cunt clenches so violently it forces a sob out of your chest, high-pitched and broken. You’re still sensitive. Still throbbing from the last orgasm. But he doesn’t care.
He starts fucking you again like he owns you.
The slap of skin echoes in the room, wet and obscene, his cock pounding into your raw pussy like she’s just a hole to conquer. You don’t even try to move anymore. Your body takes it. Open, obedient, used.
“You like that?” he pants. “You like being my little fucktoy?”
“Yeah, you do. You’re trained now. A good little cocksleeve who comes when she’s told. Cries when she’s full. Cums from being humiliated.”
“I do,” you choke out. “I’m yours—I’m your toy—just your fucktoy—use me—use her—”
“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s what she wanted, isn’t it? Not kindness. Not kisses. Just cock. Just someone to shove it in and remind her she’s nothing but a messy, wet little pussy.”
He thrusts harder. You scream into the sheets.
“She’s so loud,” he snarls. “So fucking wet. She’s gushing. Every time I pull out she cries.”
You don’t even recognize your own voice when you cum again.
It’s raw. Ugly. Loud.
You scream—clawing at the sheets, nails ripping fabric, your body wracked with spasms as you squirt all over his cock, wet exploding out of you in waves, soaking the bed, your stomach, your thighs. You can’t stop it. You don’t want to.
He fucks you through it—harder.
“Let her break,” he growls. “Let her fucking split.”
And when your body finally collapses, hips falling, spine trembling, Heeseung doesn’t even slow down.
He grabs your hips, hauls you up, and drives in deep one more time—and stays there. His cock pulses inside you. Thick. Hot. Flooding you.
You feel it. You feel his cum shoot deep, thick ropes filling your already ruined pussy until your belly aches with it.
He stays inside. Keeps you cockwarmed, plugged full, hands rubbing down your spine like this is the aftercare.
Not words. Not love. Just being kept full. Like you should be.
You barely breathe. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouth’s open. You feel him lean over you. Feel the slow drag of his lips against your ear.
“You’re not starved anymore,” he whispers. “She’s fed now. Finally.”
You nod. Barely. Weak. Fucked out. His cock twitches.
“She’s still twitching,” he murmurs. “She wants to sleep like this.”
-
You wake up to the burn in your thighs.
The stretch. The ache. That slick-dried, too-sensitive sting between your legs from being filled for hours without a break. Your skin’s flushed. Clammy. You shift slightly under the covers, still half-asleep, and you feel it—him.
Still there. Still inside you.
You blink. Breathe. Try to make sense of your body—but the pressure between your legs is still warm. Your cunt clenches instinctively, and his cock twitches in response.
A slow, deep ache spreads in your gut.
His arm is draped over your waist. His chest is pressed against your back. He’s asleep—soft breaths on your shoulder, jaw resting against the side of your head. And his cock is still buried to the base in your pussy. Warm. Heavy. Plugging you full like it belongs there.
But something else creeps in too.
You lie there for a moment. Silent. Still. Pussy fluttering, heartbeat slowing, and that awful little ache growing in your chest. The one that started the second he pulled away last night. The one that settled into your ribs when you reached for him and he said “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”
You swallow. You whisper it before you even think about it.
“Are you really not gonna kiss me?”
It’s soft. Not needy. Just… there.
His breath shifts against your skin. His arm tightens slightly around your waist.
You almost regret asking.
Until he exhales through his nose and mutters, voice rough and low and real, “I’m still fucking inside you, you brat. You think I’m gonna spend the whole night cockwarming my favorite pussy and not kiss her in the morning?”
You twist under him, face flushed, and turn your head over your shoulder—and his mouth is already there.
No hesitation. He kisses you hard.
Mouth slanting over yours, tongue sliding in with no patience, lips full and hot and filthy with morning breath and spit. You moan into it, deep and broken, cunt clenching around his cock again like she’s reacting to the kiss like it’s touch.
His hand grips your jaw, thumb dragging over your cheek as he devours your mouth. He licks into you like he means it—like you’ve earned it—like he’s been wanting to do it since before he ever called you a slut.
You’re whimpering into his mouth when it happens.
Your lips slide against his, sticky with spit, your breath still uneven from how long you spent crying into the pillow, your cunt still fluttering weakly around his cock. He hasn’t pulled out. He’s still inside you. Still twitching, half-hard again already, thick and warm, stretching your still-leaking pussy while your body curls back into him, needy and clingy and soft in a way you didn’t get to be last night.
His hand cups your jaw now. Gentle. Finally. His thumb drags along your lower lip, slow and possessive, like he’s re-learning your mouth after denying it. His tongue pushes into you with unhurried filth, and your hips shift just barely, like your cunt’s trying to pull more of him in. Like she doesn’t even know how to be empty anymore.
And then you hear it.
“Heeseung?”
It’s distant. Not loud. Sleepy. But your blood freezes.
“Hey—have you seen Y/N?”
Evie. She’s awake. The breath dies in your throat.
Your eyes fly open. Heeseung’s hand freezes on your jaw. Your whole body locks. His cock is still deep inside you, softening now, but still heavy. Still leaking. You can feel him dripping down your inner thighs as your brain flips inside out with panic.
“Shit,” you mouth, barely audible.
Heeseung exhales through his nose, calm, but his arm is already tightening around your waist like he’s trying to figure out his next move in real time.
“Y/N?” she calls again. “Where’d you go?”
You scramble out of the bed like you’ve been shot. Legs wobbly. Pussy sore. You trip over the blanket as you reach for your discarded clothes, yanking your hoodie on over your head, trying not to scream as your shorts catch on your ankle. You’re still soaked, your panties still twisted around your thigh from where he shoved them earlier, and you can feel his cum still inside you, wet and hot and fucking obvious.
Heeseung’s already sitting up, dragging his hoodie on, running a hand through his hair to make it look like he just woke up.
You’re panicking. “Do I go back to her room? What do I do—what if she’s in the hallway—?”
Heeseung stands up, grabs your shoulders, kisses your forehead once—quick, mocking, cocky—like this is funny to him.
“Bathroom. Now.”
You sprint for it. Just as he opens his door.
His voice is casual. Sleep-rough.
“Yo.”
“You seen Y/N? I woke up and she wasn’t in bed. Her stuff’s still there though.”
Heeseung stretches in the doorway, voice smooth as fucking silk.
“Nah, haven’t seen her. She probably went to the bathroom.”
“She didn’t text me.”
“She probably didn’t want to wake you.”
You’re crouched in the bathroom, hands over your mouth, hoodie soaked at the hem, thighs still trembling. You glance down and see a smear of his cum on your leg, glistening in the morning light like a neon sign of guilt.
“Whatever. Tell her I’m making pancakes.”
“Will do.”
Door shuts. Heeseung turns, leans into the bathroom, finds you crouched by the sink.
“You owe me.”
You punch his chest.
He grabs your wrist. Kisses it.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers, voice low. “You’ll pay me back tonight."
-
It’s early.
Evie’s downstairs making coffee. You can hear the clinking of mugs, the stupid hum of whatever playlist she plays when she’s in a good mood.
You’re in Heeseung’s lap. Hoodie on. No underwear. His back’s against the headboard, his cock deep inside you, and you’re grinding slowly—hips circling, cunt fluttering, hands pressed to his chest to keep yourself upright.
You’re not allowed to bounce. Not allowed to moan.
Just slow, controlled rolls—like you’re milking him without giving yourself away.
“You sound like you want her to know,” he whispers against your throat.
You shake your head. Breathe through your nose. Keep moving.
“Then be quiet, baby. Or I’ll hold your mouth and your hips still, and you won’t cum at all.”
You almost cry. He grabs your ass. Tilts your hips just right.
“If she walks in, you better keep her name off your lips while I fill you up.”
You do. Barely.
You cum with your hand clamped over your mouth, twitching around his cock like you were made for it—and Heeseung cums seconds later, low and quiet, mouth on your collarbone.
Downstairs?
Evie sings along to the chorus.
-
It’s disgusting.
There’s no other word for it.
You’re on all fours, face buried in Heeseung’s mattress, drooling, moaning, thighs trembling with every wet squelch of his fingers plunging into you from behind. His mouth is glued to your cunt, spit running down his chin, tongue working your clit in slow, sloppy laps while one hand spreads you open—and the other, lower, slick with your cum, is rubbing tight circles around your asshole.
You’re whining his name. Filthy. Wordless. Brain-melted.
“Fuck, she’s drooling for it,” he mutters into your pussy. “She wants both. She’s ready. One in her ass, two in her cunt—you wanna be stretched like a proper little hole, huh?”
Your face is soaked. Your body’s trembling. Your pussy flutters around his fingers, slick squelching with every slow drag in and out. Your rim clenches, raw and wet from the friction. You try to answer, but all that comes out is a pathetic sob.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she wants.”
“I want it,” you gasp, voice cracking. “I want you to open my ass—wanna be full, wanna cum like a fucktoy—please—please—”
And then—
“Y/N?”
You hear your name like it’s being spoken through a tunnel.
You freeze.
Every muscle in your body locks.
Heeseung doesn’t move.
You can feel his tongue hovering right at your clit. His finger is still circling your asshole.
And then you both look up.
In the doorway. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.
Evie.
Her face doesn’t go red. It goes white. Like her blood just dropped to her feet.
She stares at your body—at your back arched, knees wide, your ass open, Heeseung’s hand buried between your cheeks, your best friend’s brother with his mouth on you and your spit in his beard.
And then she gags. Audibly. Violently.
Her whole body jolts forward like she’s about to puke right there in the hallway.
“Oh my—fucking—god—” she chokes. “What the—what the FUCK—”
She turns. Presses her palm to the wall. Leans into it. Her other hand clamps over her mouth and you see her shoulders jerk. Once. Twice. A horrible, broken sound crawls out of her throat.
“No—no—no—no, no, no—”
She’s panicking.
Can’t breathe. Her body is shaking so hard you think she might collapse.
“Evie—” you start, voice already wet. “Evie, please—please just listen—”
“DON’T.”
The scream hits like a slap.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t—don’t even say my fucking name—”
You’re sobbing now. Reaching for the blanket. Falling off the bed. Barely able to pull your hoodie down over your sticky, twitching body.
Heeseung moves. Not fast enough. Still shirtless. Still hard. His fingers still glistening.
“Heejoo—”
“DON’T. CALL ME THAT.” Her voice is shrill, raw, wrecked. “You’re my fucking brother.”
She looks at you. Like she doesn’t even know you.
And then her expression cracks completely.
Her face contorts—pain, betrayal, disgust, hatred—all in one devastating collapse.
“You were inside her,” she whispers, and her voice breaks. “You had your—your—you were licking her while you were fingering her ass—”
“You’re both fucking insane.”
You crawl toward her. Not thinking. Just begging. Your knees burn. Your hands shake.
“Evie—please—please just let me explain—”
She flinches.
Flinches.
Like your voice touched her skin. Then she goes still. Her breathing slows. Her hands drop to her sides.
She looks empty.
“Don’t come near me.”
Her voice is flat now. Robotic.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even fucking breathe in my direction.”
You can’t speak. Can’t move. She steps back.
Looks at Heeseung. Then at you.
“You’re both dead to me.”
-
You don’t remember the walk home.
You don’t remember grabbing your phone, or leaving the house, or what the weather was like. You don’t remember how long you cried, or how many people stared, or how fucking long it took for the heat between your legs to fade into something cold and ugly. You just remember sitting on your bedroom floor—hoodie still wet between your thighs, your underwear balled up in your pocket—and trying to breathe without choking on it.
Because it doesn’t stop. The image. Her face.
Evie, hand over her mouth. Evie, gagging. Evie, stepping back like you were something dirty.
She meant it. Every word.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t fucking breathe in my direction.”
She meant it.
You try to text her that night. You don’t even know what to say. There are three different messages in your drafts: one with just her name. One that says “I’m sorry.” One that says nothing at all.
They don’t send. You’ve been blocked.
He doesn’t text either. You don’t even know if he can.
The silence is so big it feels like a second death. You lie in bed every night with your phone face-up on your pillow, waiting for it to light up with anything. A call. A voice note. Just a name.
It never comes.
But you still feel him. In your body. In your bones.
Every time you try to sleep, your body curls like it’s expecting to be filled.
Some nights you wake up sweating—panting, pussy twitching—because you dreamed of his voice again.
You still miss him. Even after all of it. Even after how it ended.
Even after Evie’s face broke in half at the sight of you—wet, spread open, her brother’s finger sliding into your ass while you begged for more.
You still miss him. And that’s the part that makes you sick.
-
It’s been nearly two weeks since you watched Evie recoil in that doorway, hand clamped over her mouth like she was actually going to vomit.
You can’t erase the memory of her face—how disgust bled into betrayal, how her gaze slid right past you like you didn’t exist, then landed on Heeseung as if he were some twisted stranger in her own home. You tried to bury the image, tried to make it small and unimportant, but it lives in your chest now, swelling every time you breathe.
You haven’t talked to either of them since. Not one word to her, not a single text to him.
It’s as if the world paused on that moment: her voice ripping through the room, your body half-naked, his spit drying on your thighs, your stomach churning with guilt.
Now the doorbell rings, and somehow you already know who’s on the other side.
You open it slowly, hesitation weighing on every movement of your hand.
Heeseung stands there in a wrinkled hoodie, dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He looks thinner—like the shape of him has caved in from the inside out. His hair is unstyled, his shoulders hunched, and the way he stares at you feels desperate.
Neither of you speak for a few seconds, the silence pressing into your lungs.
Then you break it, because you can’t handle him looking at you like that. “Why are you here?” Your voice comes out flat, echoing the numbness you’ve been living in.
Heeseung swallows, gaze skittering between your face and the ground.
“I had to see you.”
The words feel like they’re meant to fix something, but all they do is twist the knife. You give a hollow laugh, but there’s no humor in it.
“You already saw enough.”
He exhales shakily, bringing a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I know that’s not—there’s nothing I can—” He trails off, struggling, guilt carved into every line of his face. When he finally speaks again, his voice strains.
“You think we haven’t replayed it a hundred fucking times?” he asks. “The door. The blanket. You moaning. Me—God—we were still fucking with each other right there, even when she—”
“Stop.” Your voice cracks. “Don’t say it.”
“We saw her face,” his voice keeps going, low and fast and pained. “We saw it, and we still didn’t stop, like fucking animals. I see it every time I close my eyes. I hear her say my name like I was never hers, like you were never her friend.”
You speak,
“I can’t look at you without hearing her gag.”
The confession slashes the air, and his lips part like you’ve slapped him.
“I can’t hear your name without remembering what it felt like to be in her house, in her family, doing… that, while she thought I was asleep down the hall.”
For a moment, neither of you breathe. Then he forces himself to speak, voice cracking.
“I know. I fucking know, and I hate that we didn’t let go even when we heard her. I hate that she looked at us like we were monsters. I hate that part of me still wanted to stay inside you, and part of you still wanted me there, when we should’ve both stopped.”
You close your eyes, replaying Evie’s strangled gasp in your head, recalling the numb disbelief that followed when she told you not to speak, not to look, not to fucking breathe in her direction.
“I can’t talk to you,” you whisper, voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I can’t even hear your name without feeling sick.”
He swallows and nods, like he’s been waiting for those exact words. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he’s about to shatter. “I won’t—if you never want to see me again, I understand.” He drags in a breath that rattles in his chest. “I just needed to know you were… alive.”
For a moment, you want to ask him if he’s okay too, if he’s been eating or sleeping, if he wakes up sweating like you do. But you lock it down, because you can’t afford to care right now.
“Well,” you say, and your voice is colder than you intend, “now you’ve seen me. Congratulations.”
A faint tremor passes through him, and he nods once. There’s nothing else. No lecture, no pleading. He just steps back, shoulders slumped, and turns away.
-
It happens in the grocery store, of all places. You’re pushing a half-empty cart down the cereal aisle, trying not to think about how much quieter life has been since you lost your best friend and the boy you broke her heart with. You’re scanning the shelves for something to distract you when you catch sight of a familiar figure at the other end of the row.
Your heart lurches, your fingers tightening on the cart handle as your stomach flips.
Because there, frowning at the boxes of cereal, is Evie—or Heejoo, or however she wants to be called now. You don’t have time to decide whether you should turn and run or force a hollow smile. She glances up, and your eyes meet. Neither of you moves.
The aisle feels too narrow. Her cart sits between you, an invisible barrier.
She looks different—her hair is shorter or maybe just pulled back in a careless ponytail, dark smudges under her eyes, shoulders tense. She seems hollowed out in the same way you feel.
Some part of you wants to say hey or I miss you or please talk to me, but the words dissolve in your throat. She’s the one who steps forward first, letting her cart roll behind her. Her heels click on the tile, echoing your every heartbeat.
“Having fun?” she asks, and it doesn’t sound like a question so much as a thinly-veiled jab.
You grip the handle of your cart, mouth suddenly too dry to speak.
“Evie—”
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, eyes flicking away like the name itself stings. “You don’t get to pretend we’re okay. You don’t get to act like we’re still friends.”
Her arms fold across her chest, nostrils flaring with each breath, and you feel your own pulse jump in your neck. “I—I’m sorry,” you manage, voice trembling. It’s not enough, you know that.
She scoffs, a breathy, humorless sound. “That’s it? You’re sorry? You think that magically fixes everything?” She gestures sharply, and you notice how tightly she’s clenching her fists. “You screwed around with my brother like it was nothing, and I walked in on—” Her voice breaks, face twisting as she fights off the memory. “I was just the idiot friend who never saw it coming, right?”
Shame flares in your cheeks. You hold your ground, though it hurts to meet her eyes. “I know I betrayed you,” you say. “We—God, I don’t even have the words for how messed up it was. We both knew better. We both let it happen.”
Her hand lifts to cut you off, shaking with the effort. “You think it’s just that you hurt me?” Her voice wobbles between anger and heartbreak. “You hurt him too, you realize that? He was my brother, you were my best friend, and you both blew yourselves up in front of me. Like you had no idea what it would cost.”
Your stomach knots in a way you haven’t felt before. She’s right. It wasn’t just her—it wasn’t just you. It was all three of you, tangling and twisting until it snapped. “I know,” you say more quietly. “And we’re all paying for it. He’s… he’s not okay. I’m not okay. And you’re definitely not okay. There’s no part of this that isn’t broken.”
She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Do you think that helps? Hearing you say it’s broken doesn’t change the fact that I can’t even look at either of you without wanting to scream.”
You bow your head, voice almost inaudible. “I wish I could take it back.”
She swallows, and for a fraction of a second, the hostility in her eyes flickers with pain. “Well, you can’t.” Her grip tightens on the cart handle until her knuckles whiten, and she exhales shakily.
“I want my brother back, you know. I want my friend back. But I don’t get either of those things, because you two decided to… to destroy what we had.”
Your throat closes up, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”
She stares for another few seconds, jaw clenched as she holds herself together. Then she moves around you, snatching her cart by the handle, the wheels squeaking in protest.
“Enjoy the produce,” she mutters under her breath, voice dripping with bitterness as she passes.
-
It doesn’t happen overnight.
There’s no single conversation that wipes the slate clean, no perfect gesture that makes Evie’s betrayal vanish, no magic wand that repairs the gaping wound in your chest.
But over time—slow, grudging, step by hesitant step—you all begin to realize that staying in this darkness is killing you. Staying strangers, orbiting the same guilt without looking one another in the eye, is worse than facing the truth. And that truth is messy, fragile, and riddled with scars.
It begins with Evie texting you, late at night, a week after the grocery store encounter.
Just three words: We need to talk.
You stare at the screen for a solid minute, heart pounding like it’s trying to break out of your chest.
Your hands shake as you reply, Yeah, okay.
That’s all. No apology, no second-guessing, just acceptance. You wait for her to say when or where, but she doesn’t text back until the next afternoon, telling you to meet her at the park near her house.
And then she clarifies: Just you.
You show up after sunset, nerves jangling in every limb, expecting hostility, or silence, or both.
Instead, you find Evie sitting on a faded wooden bench under a flickering streetlight. She looks smaller than you remember, knees drawn up under her chin, arms hugging herself for warmth. As you approach, you open your mouth to say something—anything—but she holds up a hand, shaking her head.
“Don’t,” she says, voice tight. “Not yet.”
You stand there, awkward and guilty, waiting for her permission to speak.
She lowers her hand and sighs, staring at a patch of dead grass near her feet. “I asked you here because… this is killing me,” she mutters. “Being this angry all the time. Hating you. Hating him. I can’t keep up with it. It’s turning me into someone I don’t recognize.”
Her words break something inside your chest, and your throat goes thick. You sit down on the far edge of the bench, leaving a wide space between you, unsure if you’re allowed to be any closer. “I… I know,” you manage, voice unsteady. “I feel it too. It’s like I’m rotting on the inside.”
She nods once, gaze flicking to you before sliding away again. “I’m not saying I forgive you,” she warns, and you nod, heart pounding. “I’m just saying I don’t want this to be my life anymore. This—rage. It’s not me.”
She exhales, shoulders curling inward. “And I loved you. You were my best friend. And he… he’s my brother, and I loved him too. So how did we all end up here?”
Silence lingers. You fight back tears that threaten to spill.
“We messed up,” you whisper, voice cracking. “We both did. Me and him. We used your house, your trust, your everything for our own messed-up… needs, and it was stupid and selfish and we ended up shattering everything.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I know none of that fixes it. But I swear to you, we never wanted to hurt you.”
Evie laughs bitterly, a hollow sound. “Well, you did. And I can’t pretend you didn’t.”
Her gaze shifts to the distance, to the halo of light under the streetlamp. “But I don’t know if I can keep hating you. Or him.”
She hesitates, words coming out slow. “I saw him last week. He looked—God, I hardly recognized him. Like a ghost of himself.”
You nod, biting back the urge to defend him or to ask a dozen questions. “He’s… not doing great,” you say simply, remembering his hollow cheeks, the way his voice cracked when he said he couldn’t sleep.
She wraps her arms tighter around herself, rocking slightly. “Neither are we,” she points out. “None of us are okay. And I guess that’s what I’m realizing. That we’re all stuck in the same crater, staring at the same wreckage. Maybe we shouldn’t be trying to fix it on our own.”
Your eyes burn with unshed tears. “What do you want to do?” you ask, feeling the weight of her words press into your chest.
She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she looks directly at you, tears shimmering at the edges of her eyes. “I want us to talk,” she says. “All three of us. In one place. I want us to put it all on the table, no hiding, no running out. Because if there’s any chance of moving forward—together or apart—we have to face it."
“I’ll text him,” she says, voice ragged. “Don’t expect miracles. But I can’t do this alone.”
A teardrop escapes your lashes and slips down your cheek. “Neither can I,” you whisper. “Thank you.”
She doesn’t respond, just stands up and motions for you to follow.
-
Evie’s living room is dimly lit, and the air feels thicker than it should—as if everything you’ve said to each other in the last hour is still hovering in the space between. Outside, it’s already dark, the muffled hum of passing cars bleeding in through the windows. You’re all drained—physically, emotionally—yet no one moves to leave. Not yet. It’s not finished.
Evie is perched on the armchair, knees drawn close to her chest. You’re on one end of the couch, Heeseung on the other, and there’s still a gulf of guilt and confusion separating you. But you can feel the conversation building toward something bigger than apologies or confessions of regret.
Evie tugs at the sleeves of her sweater. She glances between you and her brother, mouth pinched tight, but her voice is gentler than before.
“I’m not pretending this is easy,” she begins, clearing her throat. “We’ve all hurt each other. I just want to know what you… what you both actually feel.” Her gaze settles on you, question clear in her eyes. “Do you two even care about each other beyond… beyond whatever it was you were doing?”
You swallow, your mouth dry. This is the moment you’ve been pushing down for weeks, refusing to think about. The reason you woke up gasping sometimes, alone in your bed, missing a warmth you never should have craved in the first place. You take a shaky breath, feeling your pulse hammer in your temples.
“I—” you begin, then stop. Your voice wavers, but you force yourself to speak. “I’m in love with him.”
It comes out bare, unpolished, stripped of excuses. You feel the words echo in your chest, leaving you vulnerable. Across the room, Evie’s eyes widen for half a second, and you can see her guard tighten, just a bit.
Heeseung exhales sharply, his head snapping up. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the floor, heart pounding.
“I know,” you continue, voice trembling, “that he might not feel the same way. I know we started this all wrong, that I messed up your trust, that I hurt you”—you glance at Evie—“and maybe I don’t deserve a happy ending. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t love him just because I’m ashamed of how we got here.”
Evie inhales like she’s bracing for another blow, her arms tightening around her knees.
“You’re saying you love him, even if he doesn’t love you back?” she asks, carefully, like she’s afraid of the answer.
You let out a breath that feels like it’s been caged in your ribs for months.
“Yes. It’s not… it’s not his responsibility. If it’s one-sided, that’s on me.” You glance fleetingly at Heeseung, face flushing. “I don’t expect anything from him, or from you. I just—” Your voice cracks. “I needed to say it out loud.”
Silence envelops the room, charged with tension. Heeseung is staring at you, eyes wide and glossy, like you’ve knocked the air from his lungs. Evie shifts, chewing on the inside of her lip.
Heeseung finally speaks, voice rough.
“You… love me?”
You manage a small, trembling nod. “I do,” you say, meeting his gaze at last. “And if you don’t love me back, that’s okay. I know how messed up this is. I’m ready to… to accept that.”
He looks startled, as if no part of him expected you to be okay with that possibility. His hands flex on his knees, knuckles blanching. Then he breathes out, shoulders sagging.
“God,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievably stupid.”
You flinch, heart jolting—though there’s no real malice in his tone, only a shaky awe and raw disbelief that seems to be tying him in knots. He forces himself to meet Evie’s eyes for a flicker of a second, as if silently asking for permission to go on.
“Don’t call her that,” Evie snaps, voice quivering at the edges. She fixes him with a sharp glare, arms folded tight across her chest. “I don’t care how you meant it—she’s not stupid, and you don’t get to insult her in front of me.”
“Shut the fuck up Evie, one second,” He turns to you, “Because you think I’m not in love with you? That I’d leave you hanging with all this guilt?”
Your heart stutters, the floor tilting under you. “Heeseung…”
“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and the words hang in the air with tangible weight. “I can’t believe you’d be ready to walk away, believing it was one-sided. That you’d… accept it. God, do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you in so much pain, thinking I don’t feel the same?”
A soft sound escapes your throat—some blend of relief and shock—and tears gather at the edges of your vision. Across the room, Evie exhales shakily, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You can see the swirl of emotions crossing her features: anger, hurt, jealousy, and underneath it all, a lingering care for you both.
Heeseung scrubs a hand over his face, then looks to Evie, voice trembling.
“I love her. I know I messed up. We messed up. We never should’ve lied. But I can’t take back how I feel.”
Evie drags in a deep breath. She pushes herself up from the armchair, pacing a short line across the living room. Her head is down, hands in her hair. When she finally looks at you both, there’s pain in her eyes, but not the same raw fury as before.
“Jesus,” she mutters. “You two…” She chews the inside of her cheek. “I hate what you did. I hate how you did it. But if you love each other—really love each other—I can’t tell you not to.”
Her shoulders slump. “I want to be angry forever, but… seeing you like this, I—” She presses her lips together, tears brimming, then sets her jaw. “I guess I just want us to find a way to exist without destroying each other.”
A thick silence fills the space. Your chest feels ready to burst from conflicting emotions—gratitude, guilt, longing, terror. You look at Evie and see the ghost of the best friend you once knew, who might be willing to stand beside you again one day, even if it won’t ever be the same.
You open your mouth.
“I know it won’t be easy,” you say softly. “I don’t expect you to forgive everything in one night. But maybe… maybe we can start moving forward?”
Evie dashes a tear off her cheek and gives a tiny nod.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Maybe.”
Heeseung watches her, watches you, then rises from the couch. He hesitates, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you. You stand up, heart pounding, and drift closer. Neither of you quite meets in the middle, leaving a careful gap where all your remorse hangs. But it’s less than before.
Evie clears her throat, hugging herself.
“I can’t stay down here with you two being… whatever you are. I need time, okay?”
You nod quickly.
“Of course.”
Heeseung nods as well, voice soft.
“Anything you need.”
She steps back, wiping her eyes, and there’s a hint of a weary smile ghosting across her face, like she’s relieved but not sure how to show it.
“You two can talk, or… or go, or do whatever. I just…” Her breath catches. “I’m gonna go upstairs. That’s all I can handle right now.”
You don’t stop her.
Then you turn to him, tears slipping down your cheeks, a tremulous hope fluttering in your chest. He lifts a hand—tentative, like he’s scared to break you—and cups your cheek, thumb brushing your damp skin.
He exhales shakily.
“I love you,” he murmurs, the words raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything.”
You nod, voice catching in your throat as you rest your hand over his.
“I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “But I love you, and maybe… that’s something we can start with.”
His eyes close in something like relief, and he presses a soft, uncertain kiss to your temple. It isn’t a triumphant moment, not the kind of romantic victory you might’ve once imagined. It’s tender, laced with guilt and fear. But it’s also real—genuine and fragile, the only piece of warmth you’ve had in a long time.
-
Things shift slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. You and Heeseung start keeping your distance whenever Evie’s around—no subtle hand-holding, no lingering touches, certainly no sneaking off to lock yourselves behind the nearest door.
It’s not that you’re ashamed of each other; it’s that you can’t stand the thought of rubbing your relationship in her face. You both know you’re lucky she’s even letting you in the same room without storming out.
So you dial it back. You let your bodies stop running the show.
It’s harder than you expect—he still sets your nerves on fire by simply looking at you—but you remind yourself that Evie’s feelings matter, that you owe her more than just half-hearted consideration. You give her space, which means giving yourselves space too.
No sex. No heavy make-out sessions. No pressed-up-against-a-wall confessions. Just… time and gentle contact.
Heeseung seems as restless as you.
Sometimes, when it’s late and you’re on a phone call—whispering so Evie won’t hear through the walls—he sounds downright desperate.
You can hear his breath catch when you say you miss him, can practically feel the tension radiating through the receiver.
Yet both of you agree: this is how it has to be for now. If you want Evie to believe that what you have is more than just an addiction to each other’s bodies, you need to show her you can exist outside a bed.
So you go on dates. Real dates. Movie theaters, yes, but also bookstore trips, late-night drives to nowhere, strolling through a local fair when it rolls into town.
You hold hands only if you’re well away from Evie’s neighborhood—fearful that any small sign of affection might break the thin thread of tolerance she’s extended.
The first time you walk along the riverside in the evening, sipping cheap coffee from a convenience store, it hits you that you’ve never really done this part before: the tentative, day-to-day romance of building a real relationship. It’s both comforting and nerve-wracking.
You can feel the charge sparking under your skin every time he smiles at you, like you’re seconds away from losing your careful resolve.
But you don’t. Neither of you wants to risk undoing the fragile progress with Evie.
And that progress is slow, but present.
She doesn’t cringe as much when you and Heeseung enter a room together.
She no longer flinches if you happen to stand on the same side of the kitchen.
Maybe sometimes she rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t snap. You see the tension in her shoulders when you’re all in the same space, though—like she’s bracing for some new betrayal.
You can’t blame her. You still offer to leave the moment you sense her discomfort rising. Surprisingly, she’s started telling you to stay.
But the real sign that things might be healing comes one weekend night when Evie texts you, out of the blue:
Girls’ night?
She doesn’t dress it up with a cute emoji or an explanation; it’s bare bones, almost clinical. And you stare at your phone with your heart hammering, wondering if this is a test, or maybe a begrudging olive branch.
You answer with a shaky yes, and spend the next few hours trying not to read too much into it. You tell Heeseung you’ll be hanging out with Evie, and he just smiles—wide and genuine, telling you to have fun, to text him if you need anything.
Evie’s room hasn’t changed much since the night you snuck out of it to see Heeseung. The layout is the same, the posters the same, the bedspread the same. It all feels loaded with history.
She sits cross-legged on her bed, handing you a soda—no alcohol tonight, no false bravado. You sense she wants you both stone-cold sober for whatever might be said.
There’s an awkward pause, and then she gestures for you to sit, too.
For a while, conversation comes in bursts: updates about random classmates, stories from her day at work, small talk about the show you both used to binge-watch together. It’s stiff, but not hostile.
She picks at her blanket, and you notice how she won’t hold your gaze for too long. Yet each minute that passes without snapping or bitterness feels like a victory.
Eventually, she slides a bag of nail polish across the bed toward you. “You, um… you still like doing this, right? It’s been a while,” she mumbles, glancing at your nails.
It’s such a small gesture, but it makes your throat tighten. You nod, and she exhales something that might be relief.
For a solid hour, the two of you paint and chatter, as if practicing how to be friends again. Her shoulders are less rigid. You’re careful not to misstep. Neither of you mentions Heeseung.
At least not directly. But you feel his presence in the air, the unspoken pivot point around which your every interaction revolves. It’s only when Evie finally fixes you with a long, assessing look, half-concern and half-uncertainty, that the moment arrives.
“Are you two, like… okay?” she asks. Her voice is laced with discomfort, but there’s no hatred in it. “You said no more sneaking around. But are you—happy?”
You swallow hard, carefully blowing on your newly painted nails. “We’re… doing our best,” you say. “Trying to be good for each other. Not just physically.”
She nods, lips twisting like she’s turning over your words in her mind. “I guess… that’s what I wanted to know,” she admits softly. “It still weirds me out sometimes, but I’d rather it matter to you than be some… fling.”
A wave of gratitude surges in your chest, making it hard to speak. You nod. “It matters,” you whisper. “I swear.”
She blinks a few times, then sets her nail polish aside. The tension in her shoulders relaxes just enough that her spine curves against the headboard, more comfortable than you’ve seen her in weeks. “Good,” she murmurs, tone stilted but earnest. “Don’t… don’t make me regret trying to rebuild this, okay?”
Your own shoulders slump in relief. “I won’t,” you promise. Your voice shakes with the weight of it. “And if I ever do, you can—and should—kick my ass.”
That draws a small, genuine laugh from her—a sound you haven’t heard in what feels like ages. She nods, letting the humor fill the space that was once suffocating with tension. “Deal,” she says.
You stay up later than expected—talking about nonsense, painting your nails in mismatched colors, occasionally lapsing into awkward silences.
But each time, one of you breaks it before the air can go stale. By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve settled into a strange new normal: not quite what you were before the betrayal, but not strangers anymore. Something between you is mending, fragile but real.
When you leave, she walks you to the front door. It’s still weird, stepping out into the hallway where so much damage happened.
But Evie’s behind you, not in front, and you can’t help feeling that the dynamic has changed in a way that actually might last. You glance back at her, and though she still looks tired, she doesn’t look hostile or betrayed. Maybe just… cautious. It’s enough.
“Night,” she says, one hand resting on the doorknob.
“Night,” you reply, voice quiet. “Thanks, again.”
She nods and closes the door gently behind you—no slamming, no huffing. Just a simple, private goodbye.
As you slip into the night, you realize you’re smiling, mind already whirring with what you’ll tell Heeseung when you see him next. You catch yourself wondering if you’ll meet up for another date soon. Or if you’ll just call him on the way home, excitedly spilling the details of your slow but tangible progress with Evie.
-
The new place is barely furnished. A couch that’s still covered in plastic. A mattress on the floor. Takeout containers littering the kitchen counter. The floorboards creak with every step. The windows are wide open, and there are no curtains yet. It’s not home—not really—but it’s his.
And most importantly, it’s finally, blessedly, fucking private.
When he opens the door and lets you in, he doesn’t kiss you right away. He just watches you step inside like you’re something he’s trying to memorize. His hands stay in the pocket of his hoodie. His jaw’s tight. His eyes flicker to the bag in your hand, then to your shoes, then up your legs so slowly it makes you feel exposed even though you’re still fully dressed.
You don’t say anything at first. You set the wine down on the counter. You take in the space—empty and echoing—but your skin’s already buzzing. You hear the door close behind you with a soft click, and something shifts.
He clears his throat.
“I haven’t kissed you yet,” he says, voice low. “Not really.”
You turn to look at him. “No.”
There’s a beat.
“Can I?”
You nod.
And that’s it. That’s all it takes.
His hands are on your face before you can blink, warm and rough and needing. The kiss starts soft, but only for a breath. Then it turns—hungry, desperate, filthy. Your back hits the counter with a thud, his tongue already in your mouth, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to crawl inside you through your lips.
You moan into him, and he groans, deep in his throat, like the sound broke whatever shred of self-control he was hanging onto.
“You have no idea,” he pants, mouth hot against your jaw, “how long I’ve wanted to ruin you in peace.”
Your shirt’s pulled up before you can answer, his mouth already sucking marks down your neck. His hands are everywhere—gripping your tits through your bra, unbuttoning your jeans, fingers slipping into your waistband like he owns the place. Like he owns you.
You gasp as his hand slides between your legs, cupping you through your underwear, his breath catching when he feels the heat there.
“Already wet?” he mutters, voice ragged. “Fucking knew it.”
He yanks your jeans down to your ankles, then sinks to his knees on the kitchen tile without another word. His hands push your legs apart, pulling one up to rest over his shoulder. And when his mouth presses to the soaked fabric of your panties, you cry out—sharp, helpless, needy.
“You wore these knowing I’d take them off with my teeth, didn’t you?” he growls, dragging the fabric aside with his nose, his tongue already lapping through your folds like he’s been waiting for this for months.
You can barely breathe. One hand flies to the counter for balance, the other fists in his hair. He licks you with obscene, wet sounds, groaning into your pussy like the taste is sending him over the edge. You grind against his face shamelessly, whining when he flattens his tongue and drags it up through your slit, over and over again.
“Fuck, Heeseung—please—”
He pulls back just enough to spit directly on your clit. “What do you need, baby?” he pants, thumb spreading it around with tight, deliberate pressure. “You want me to make you cum with my mouth like a good little whore? Is that it?”
You nod frantically, hips rocking against his hand.
“I missed this pussy,” he mutters, diving back in. “Missed how fucking loud she is.”
And she is. Your pussy’s wet, sloppy, noisy, every flick of his tongue echoing off the bare walls. You cum hard, legs shaking around his shoulders, crying out his name as your vision blurs.
But he’s not done.
He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then grabs you by the waist and turns you around, bending you over the counter.
“No more pretending,” he growls in your ear. “No more quiet. You’re gonna scream for me this time.”
He pulls your panties down and spreads you open, groaning like a man unhinged.
“God, you’re dripping. You fucking missed this too, didn’t you?”
You try to answer, but he’s already stroking his cock against your folds, rubbing the head through the mess between your legs, smearing it everywhere.
“Say it,” he demands.
“Yes—yes, I missed it—fuck, Heeseung, I missed your cock—”
He sinks into you in one sharp, brutal thrust, and you wail.
No condom. No pause. Just the stretch of him filling you up in one smooth, devastating stroke.
“Oh my God,” he groans. “You’re fucking swallowing me.”
You’re moaning, writhing, drooling onto the counter. He doesn’t start slow. He doesn’t give you time. He fucks you—relentless, pounding, like he’s been waiting to do this since the moment you first touched him.
Your ass slaps against his thighs with every thrust. Your pussy is loud, the kind of wet, messy squelch that would embarrass you if you could think.
He slaps your ass hard, making you jolt forward. “Listen to her,” he growls. “She’s been crying for me.”
You don’t stop him. You beg for more.
He grabs your arms and pulls you back onto him, using your own body to fuck you harder.
“Keep taking it,” he snarls. “Be my good little cumrag, just like you used to be.”
You scream. You scream for him.
You cum again, sobbing into the crook of your arm, your entire body trembling.
He pulls out and flips you around, lifts you up onto the counter again, and kisses you like he’s devouring you from the inside out. Your legs are trembling so hard you can barely hold them up, but he spreads them open and spits straight onto your cunt, rubbing it in with two fingers, moaning when you jolt at the sensitivity.
“Wanna fuck you on the floor next,” he mutters against your lips. “Wanna fuck you on the mattress, on the couch, against every wall. Wanna ruin this apartment with the sound of your pussy screaming for me.”
You grab his face, breath ragged. “Then do it.”
He throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the mattress on the floor, where he fucks you in every position he’s ever imagined. He keeps you cockdrunk and leaking. When your voice gives out, he fucks you in silence. When your legs stop working, he props them up and keeps going. And when he finally cums—inside you, deep, claiming—he doesn’t pull out.
He just collapses on top of you, both of you drenched in sweat and slick and the aftermath of something feral.
You can’t move.
You don’t want to.
You just lie there, shaking, full, used, satisfied in a way that makes you dizzy.
Heeseung kisses your shoulder and whispers against your skin.
vers!college!Leehan x vers!college!fem!Reader // SMUT
WC// 5.6k
Synopsis// The new transfer from across the country catches your interest and your heart. Discovered my means of fish and aquarium related incidents.
Warnings// smut, college au, pervy leehan, possessive leehan, pet names, gendered terms, some jealousy, leehan tries to maintain chivalry, panty sniffing, dacryphilia, rawdogging it (do not do), PinV sex, determined leehan, comfort
Author's Note// probably changing the title... tbh idek how to label the dynamics bc this is self indulgent and also i haven't written in forever so i hope it suffices xx
------------
August. The month of your nightmares. It was your second year of college, and you'd been through this whole school thing for over a decade prior, but you never did get accustomed to wishing summer goodbye.
One thing you were grateful for? Common core classes were finally almost over, and you could begin the courses you really cared about. Your whole life you'd been passionate about nature. The way it worked, the creatures that inhabited it, and what you could do to save it. It was only natural you dedicated the remainder of your life to it.
The first day of class was the first and last time you actually cared to put any effort into your outfit. As far as you were concerned, first impressions were the only impressions you needed. You chose your favorite pair of jeans, a flowy top, and your best shoes. Only after fixing your hair meticulously into place did you grab your bookbag and dorm keys, meandering your way to the science building.
A surprising amount of your new classmates had filtered into the room rather early. Normally people snuck in about a minute before class. You scanned the room, giving everyone a quick smile, before claiming your seat. You never really had assigned seating, but it was a sacred unspoken rule that the seats you all chose today would stay yours for the remainder of the semester. Choose wisely. You aren't getting out of it.
It wasn't uncommon for you to see new faces around campus. Students transferred in and out all the time, not to mention the incoming freshmen. What was unusual was for one of these new faces to really catch your attention. Yet here you were, watching a man you'd never seen before peeking his head through the doorway, seemingly assessing if he was in the right room, proceeding to stand awkwardly at the front. This mystery student was quite tall and rather lanky from what you could tell. It worked for him, though. Despite being dressed casually in sneakers, straight blue jeans, and a baggy bang blue hoodie, he looked incredibly put together.
His hair was bleached blond, and rather long for a man. The locks stopped just above the shoulders in the back, fluffy and naturally wavy. His lips were rosy, full, and pursed analytically with his thick furrowed brows. His chin had the slightest cleft you could only really notice in the shadows cast by the dim classroom light. Those eyes, you mused, those were the cherry on top. The corners of his eyes drooped down a bit with long dark lashes, charming. You almost scoffed out loud thinking about the bullshit pseudoscientific modern eugenics TikTok slop that asserted you were ugly if you had a negative canthal tilt. You thought they were wrong before and you absolutely knew they were wrong now. That paired with the pitch back irises contained within made him look like somewhat of a scorned puppy with his facial expression.
Before you could even register your actions you found yourself waving that shining balance of masculinity and femininity over to the empty desk next to you. None of your friends shared this class with you, and most of the other students were already hitting it off with the people near them.
“Hey! You're new, right? Welcome to campus. I know it's only the first day of the year, but I hope it's treating you well.” You flashed him a genuine grin, fixing your posture.
“Thank you,” He extended his hand in an awkward fashion that could be interpreted as asking for a handshake or a high five. “Campus is lovely. Very spacious. Oh, I’m Leehan… It's great to meet you.”
“I’m Y/N. The pleasure is all mine.”
Something about this Leehan boy’s demeanor was captivating to you. You spent the last 5 or so minutes before the period began chatting about your majors, schedules, and rudimentary life stories. By the time it was your turn to introduce him in some childish first-day “meet your peers” game, you even had difficulty choosing only one interesting thing to say about him. In the end, you made him promise to meet you after classes ended for the day. Outside the library. Someone had to show him around, and it may as well be you. You even figured afterward you could take him to the different dining halls and show him what items were most worth his money and what deserved to mummify in the kitchen.
As it turned out, you were housed in the same dorm hall. The floors alternated in gender, leaving him on the floor just below yours. In the following few months, you thought Leehan might spend more time in your room than he did his own. Thankfully, your roommate didn't mind much. She had many friends and extracurriculars, so she wasn't there often anyway. You were two very different people, but your lifestyles worked together like clockwork and she was always kind to you.
There were many nights you met up to study, to varying degrees of success. Tonight was one where you got sidetracked all too easily, opting to watch some god-awful romcom instead. There wasn't much space in the dorm rooms, so most often Leehan sat on your bed, back to the wall, while you settled between his legs with your head on his chest. Some of your friends poked fun at you for this. What kind of “just friends” ate nearly every meal together, had scheduled weekly hang-outs, and cuddled in bed? Largely, you brushed them off. It was just friendship… right?
You picked up your phone for only a moment to check the time, groaning at the brightness of the screen. It was already nearing 3 am.
“Leehan, It’s like 3 in the morning. You should probably head out.”
“Why?” You could hear the pout in his voice. “There's only like 15 minutes left in the movie. Give me 20 more minutes. Pleaseeee?”
You huffed in faux annoyance. “Fine, but if I fall asleep on you that's your fault.”
“I can live with the consequences.”
After maybe 5 minutes you were teetering on the edge of falling asleep. Truthfully, you weren't sure if you had fallen asleep or not. All you knew for certain was you were comfortable and glowing warm. The sound of Leehan’s calm heartbeat thrumming against your ear was enough to convince you it wasn't worth moving.
“Y/N?” You felt Leehan brush your hair away from your eyes. “You awake?”
You chose not to reply. You didn't have the energy to.
Leehan hummed in acknowledgment. “Thought so.” He pressed his lips against the top of your head, debating if he wanted to kiss you or simply linger. “Goodnight, sweet girl. I… nevermind.”
The following morning, you woke up in a daze. Alone, in your aggravatingly empty bed, you rolled over to see a piece of candy with a Post-it note nearby. Leehan texted you all the time, yet he decided to leave you a physical note. That was so like him.
“Hey,
You fell asleep on me last night
Idk how I managed to move you but you didn't wake up sooo
There's an iced coffee waiting for you in the fridge
See u later xx”
It ended with a tiny doodle of a fish.
That's when everything the night prior flashed through your mind. Hazily, unsure if you'd just imagined it or not. Either way, it made your cheeks flush. Picking up your phone, you fumbled your way through to Leehan’s contact, typing up a little thank-you message. His reply was almost immediate.
“hey, can we meet up >> i wanna talk to you”
“i mean sure… u ok pookie?”
“great,, meet me in the courtyard by the pear trees in 15”
Something rattling around in your brain made you nervous. Normally, Leehan didn't ask to meet up. He just gave you a time and place, knowing you'd show up. Perhaps you were just overthinking things. Whatever the status of your sanity, it took you far too long to get your eyeliner even on account of your trembling hands. You didn't even do your makeup to meet Leehan if it was off campus, so why did you feel the need to today?
Leehan perked up the moment he saw you in the distance, scrambling to his feet and waving as if he wasn't the only one there. Beneath him, there was a throw blanket. One of those shabby printed ones, straight out of y2k, expectedly with an ocean scene.
It seemed he had the same idea with getting ready, having ditched his usual hoodie and loose jeans for a tighter-fitting pair complete with a silky button-up. Leehan grabbed your hand, collapsing onto the blanket and taking you down with him. You hit the ground with a thud and playfully swatted his shoulder. Absentmindedly, Leehan took a deep breath and nuzzled against you. He closed his eyes and let out a content sigh. You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
“Leehan… What’s gotten into you? You seem extra clingy today.”
“Hm?” His words slurred slightly. “Just missed you.”
“I saw you quite literally last night.”
“Are you saying you didn’t miss me?”
Leehan was frowning now, to the point you weren’t sure if he was exaggerating or not.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. You know that.”
Ignoring his tiny hmph, you tucked the stray strands of his hair behind his ear so you could see his face. He was blushing so deeply you started to wonder if he was running a fever.
“Well,” You started again. “What did you want?”
Leehan removed himself from you only so he could put one hand on either side of your torso and hover there. Despite the rather bold move, he wouldn't hold your gaze.
“Do you wanna go to the aquarium with me on Saturday…?”
“Duh. Just name a time. But can you at least look me in the eye? Do I look that bad today, hm?”
You smirked, knowing he wouldn't appreciate that last comment but with how shy he was being you just couldn't resist it.
“Quit that! You look…” Leehan whined, and you couldn’t help but note how his eyes briefly scanned your face and upper chest. “You look breathtaking.”
“Right… Thank you.” You smiled meekly.
Leehan moved away from you and landed onto his back harshly.
“Hey… Can we go, like… asadate!”
“Leehan, you're gonna have to repeat that.”
The few seconds of silence was deafening.
“Can… we go… as a date? A real one?”
Leehan hid his face behind one of his large hands, absolutely refusing to look you in the eye. You didn't think you'd ever seen him this embarrassed, and he wasn't sure he'd ever been this embarrassed. You stifled a laugh that scared the soul out of him for a moment's time.
“Yeah, sure. We can.” You slapped Leehan’s shoulder a little harder than you intended. “You're not sly. I knew there had to have been a reason you worked up to this so much.”
A relieved sigh left his lungs, almost comically heavy. Suddenly, he rolled himself over with enough velocity he could get himself mostly on top of you. He truly did smell good. Normally you were both laughing at the same time, but now he was the only one giggling. You were simply too shocked. Shocked… and mesmerized. For the first time you noticed that when Leehan laughed, only his top teeth showed which brought out his smile lines, and his eyes turned upward in crescents, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle up in the most endearing manner. He really had the smile of an ahjussi.
“Thank god.”
*
A couple of days later, the two of you pranced into the aquarium surrounded by laughter. There was a time when he took one of your dresses from your dorm closet when you were asleep. One of your white ones, short yet flowy with puffy sleeves. It had gotten stained and ripped at the hem on one particularly eventful night out. When he returned it you accused him of being creepy, though you were only a little serious. He left dejected anyway. Only once you unfolded it did you realize he'd worked the large juice stain out of the fragile material and embroidered tiny blue fish along the bottom edge of the dress, neckline, and the openings of the sleeves. You chose to wear that today.
Leehan’s face lit up brighter than ten suns once he saw it. Blushing and running his fingers along the hem, he couldn't take his eyes off of you.
“I thought you trashed this!? I never saw it in your closet again.”
“I put it in a box I found. I didn't want it to get stained or wrinkled.” You hooked your pinky finger with one of his. “Uhm… I'm sorry I never thanked you. My ego got the best of me and I felt too humiliated to tell you I shouldn't have been so rude.”
“Hey, don't even. Seeing you in it now is enough of an apology.”
He was compartmentalizing every aspect of your outfit today. The white sandals with little blue embroidery, your matching blue purse. The pearl jewelry and blue headband. Leehan was wearing navy blue dress pants complete with some random keychain hanging off a belt loop and a white, short-sleeved, button-up that he'd also embroidered some little fish on the collar of. Of course he did. He had told you the dress code was blue and white but never in his wildest dreams did he expect you'd match so well. He especially didn't expect to see that dress on you.
Leehan was so damn smooth it took quite a few exhibits before you noticed how he kept getting closer to you. The entire duration you were meandering about up to this point, he inched in. With his chest nearly pressed against your back, it was only in this moment you became acutely conscious that all the times you thought you felt him staring at you instead of the fish wasn't in your head, and the multiple occasions his hand brushed against yours wasn't a lack of spatial awareness. This in its entirety made you painfully aware of the blush rising on your cheeks.
“Mm, there's a group of children headed this way. Let's move on.” This time as you set off to the next room, you grabbed Leehan’s hand. After leading him to the jellyfish you not so nonchalantly threaded your fingers with his. Lord, they were long. You may not have been looking directly at Leehan, but in the deep blue water you could see his face reflected faintly back. Eyes darting back and forth from the jellies to you, donning a huge smile that he was miserably failing to conceal. His thumb caressing the back of your hand made your stomach flutter.
Roughly two thirds of the way into the aquarium the pair of you decided to drop by the cafeteria and manhandle the vending machine into letting go of your items. Leehan insisted that you let him feed you your fruit snacks, horribly domestic. A few snacks in you threatened to bite him, leading both of you to erupt in laughter.
“Haha, you're so beautiful, really!” Slipped from his mouth mid laugh and judging by the way he went right back to laughing you didn't think he even noticed he said that out loud. Not even the look on your face queued him in.
Dropping the bag of gummies to the table, you took both of his hands and shook them back and forth. You couldn't handle seeing him this gleeful, it stressed you out in the best possible way.
“Me? Psh!” It was slightly hard to breathe. “You're the most handsome human I've ever had the joy of seeing with my own eyes, and-”
The room suddenly felt eerily empty, just the two of you across from each other.
“And I never ever ever want you to lose that shining smile.”
The atmosphere was now heavy, exchanging sheepish glances. Leehan had never felt so shy around anyone before. Breaking the tension he motioned for you to follow him and sprang right out of the seat.
Hands locked back together, you soon found the main attraction of the entire joint. One sprawling exhibit that spanned from floor to ceiling, stocked like a coral reef complete with small sharks. The only thing you felt was awe, until you looked at Leehan and felt your heart skip a beat. Kiss him, a metaphorical little devil sat on your shoulder. No no no, too fast. What if I upset him? Now you were arguing with the imaginary manifestations of your own mind. Come on. His arm is around your waist. He’s been longing for this. Are you ever going to have such a chance again? Kiss the boy. You couldn't win that debate.
“Leehan?” You whispered, softly enough you weren't sure if he could even hear you.
“Hmm?”
Standing in front of the massive fish tank, Leehan looked more beautiful than ever. Reflected blue lights and water patterns danced across the room. Leehan looked at it with admiration, you could see it in his eyes. You always could. Even in the lowest light, his downturned eyes always glimmered like the ocean waves. Without saying a word you knew he was silently analyzing every fish he saw, naming them and noting what made them each unique. Yet you noticed the fondness in his eyes didn't change when he turned his attention to you with that gentle boxy smile of his.
“Leehan… Can I kiss you?”
A small noise of surprise left Leehan’s mouth. He turned to face you fully, pushing his forehead against yours with no hesitation.
“Please. I thought you'd never ask.”
It was like a scene out of a movie, you thought. His lips felt impossibly velvety soft against yours. The first kiss was brief, exploratory. It made your stomach fill with electricity. Leehan gave the smallest chuckle, you could feel him smiling against you. He hooked his arm around your waist and pulled you closer against him, nuzzling his face into your hair. Only then did he put his hand on the back of your neck and steal another kiss. One that was more confident and full of intent.
“Not here, alright?” Leehan spoke with a pout. “Let's not get kicked out for PDA.”
“Mhm. We’ll pick up where we left off later.”
The next half an hour or so was the closest to hell Leehan felt he'd ever been. For all the date he'd been focused on how pretty you were or how excited you got when seeing a fish you particularly liked. It was so fluffy, so cute and pure. The kiss changed things drastically.
Now, his inner thoughts were seeping through the cracks of his psyche and plaguing him. Fish were his favorite thing in the universe but now he could only focus on the sensation of your lips pressed against his own and your hot breath hitting his face. Guilt panged deep in his chest, but it couldn't dislodge that he now felt this wasn’t so innocent anymore. Your cherry chapstick transferred lightly onto his lips and it made him upset to think that at a point in the near future he couldn't lick his lips and remember the taste of you.
Were you wearing a bra under the loose fabric of your dress? Leehan. What about your panties, did you take the time to match those too? Leehan, quit it. Maybe you'd even found some with fish patterns and cute little bows. Fuck, did you want him to see? Leehan, you're a gentleman. Don't. Much as you were earlier, it was Leehan’s time to bicker with himself. Leehan, you don't want to ruin this. Don't be such a man. You don't want to lose her, you- No. Leehan cut his own mind off. He had to know, he craved to know, to push your dress up and quell his perverted curiosity.
Leehan came back to reality at the feeling of you pulling on his sleeve. “Ow, Leehan. Loosen your grip a little.”
He opened his mouth to apologize for being inconsiderate but it fell on deaf ears. Once you locked eyes with Leehan it was like the world disappeared, even the sound of his voice. You could only describe the expression on his face as pathetic and hungry. Pupils blown wide, cheeks colored a deep red, sore lips that he'd clearly been biting, and his tongue poking anxiously at the inside of his cheek.
“Can we go?” He was truly too gentle to make a demand of you, but the intent and directions laced in his simple request weren't lost on you. Leehan’s vague gesture toward his pants only confirmed your suspicion.
“You must not feel well,” You chided. You knew the truth of course but so desperately wanted him to verbalize it to you. “Let's go.”
*
The ride back to the dorms was abnormally quiet. Leehan was entirely dedicated to getting home as quickly as possible without breaking the law. You were focused on keeping yourself level headed and not rubbing your thighs together.
As soon as you got inside, Leehan locked the door to his room and shoved a chair right beneath the handle. His roommate, should he come home, would just have to go somewhere else.
While his movements were feverish, Leehan was no less careful than usual. Caging you back first against the wall, Leehan captured your gaze and hyped himself up internally. “You can say no. I won't get mad. I promise, but please.” His voice was deep with desire that made your spine tingle. “Please let me kiss you again.”
That was exactly what you hoped to hear.
“Why would I ever deny you? I’m the one who initiated our first. So. Indulge.”
It was no more than a second from the time the final word left your mouth that Leehan had encased you. The arm cradling your lower back was firm, a stark contrast to the caring hold he had on your cheek. Leehan kissed slow, he kissed deep. Passionate. To him there was nobody else in the world right now. Every small noise you made was greedily swallowed.
“Leehan,” You whimpered. “You're good. Have you ever kissed someone before?”
“Yeah.” He peppered kisses along your jawline, making it a bit easier for you both to talk. “A lot. Just with one person.”
You let a disappointed huff rise from your throat.
“Don't be like that, hm. It doesn't matter now. It was before I transferred here. I'm sure you've kissed plenty of guys before.”
“Maybe… maybe a handful. Only once each…”
“Then you and I aren't so different, and your record is broken. Am I special?”
You knew Leehan had a wicked grin across his face. A particularly harsh nip on your collarbone made you help.
“I guess so.” You bit your lip. “Well how about this. Have you ever had a handjob? Maybe a blowjob? Gone down on a girl?”
“All of the above. A few times.”
You hated in every sense of the word how this new knowledge made jealousy flare up in your stomach. You shouldn't care. All while making you feel so hellish, Leehan never once stopped ruining your poor throat and stealing kisses from you between words.
“Why are you asking? You're just making yourself jealous, Y/N. It's ok. Just shh. That was the past and this is now.”
“I just- Hmph. Well do I get to be anything special to you? Your first ever?”
“You're already special. Please, get that idea out of your pretty little head. But… if you have to know.”
Leehan’s hand on your waist was now rhythmically groping at your ass. His next sentence was low, whispered in your ear. “I've never truly fucked someone. Never had my dick in a girl’s pussy.”
Now, for the first time outside of his sleep talking ramblings, did you get the privilege of Leehan talking dirty. The first lewd utterances.
“O-oh. Well I've-”
“Quiet, you don't have to tell me. I don't need to know how many boys you've spread your legs for. I don't care. I just care that right now you're in my grasp.”
Honestly, you thought, you shouldn't be so turned on right now. Sweet, courteous, silly Leehan was before you, fighting to keep from rubbing himself through his slacks. On second thought you had every right to be insane.
“I want you to call me something you never called her.” Perhaps your jealousy could be of use. “I mean it when I say never, not even once.”
Against your expectations, Leehan let you go and stood back. You were worried you upset him until he took your hand, motioning for you to come to the edge of the dorm bunk bed and get right up in his lap. You obliged without a word.
“I can do that.” Leehan brushed your hair back behind your shoulders and ears, looking you in the eyes entirely vulnerable before pressing his forehead to your just as he'd done at the aquarium. “My sweet girl. My. Mine. You're my sweet girl, and I… If you'd give me the time of day… I want you to be my first.”
Suddenly you felt giddy. It took every ounce of control in you to not let it out by grabbing Leehan by the shoulders and shaking him as hard as possible.
“You called me that the other night. When I was falling asleep on you. I thought I dreamt it.”
“You remember?” He was uncertain as to why but Leehan felt shy again, scratching the back of his head nervously.
“Yeah.” You pulled back to peer into those dark wet eyes fondly. “What were you going to say… before you changed your mind?”
“I love you.”
“Huh?”
“I love you. I love you and I want to be with you for real. Not whatever we've been doing. I want to be your boyfriend. I think a lot of girls have gone after me for my looks and they get put off by me not being a fratty asshole. But not you.”
Your head was for all intents and purposes in the clouds.
“So, will you be mine? In my head, you already are. Let’s make it official.”
“You loser. Of course I'll be your girlfriend.” The kiss you gave him feigned innocence, revealed to be anything but when you slid your hand up Leehan’s thigh to cup the bulge straining against his pants.
How patient. You thought, realizing he'd likely been at least half hard since you kissed him a couple hours prior. It probably hurts, but here he is.
“To reply to your earlier comment, love, yes. I'll let you shove your cock up my pussy for the first time ever.”
“Oh, don't put it that way.” Leehan sputtered. “That's… too vulgar. Let me be respectful.”
You jokingly rolled your eyes at him. “Be my guest.”
Without another word said you were sitting on the edge of the bed, and Leehan was knelt down on one knee sliding off your sandals. From this angle he caught a glimpse of your panties and it made his breath catch.
“What? You wanna see?” The question posed was rhetorical, your legs parting as you pulled your dress up to your waist.
Navy blue. Little white fish silhouettes in the pattern of what would otherwise be polka dots. Complete with thin white ribbons that tied together on either side like a bikini.
“I was right…”
He was right? Leehan was more of your typical man than you thought, but certainly not in a negative way. You extended your leg, using the tips of your toes to lift his chin up so he'd make eye contact with you.
“Pervert.”
Leehan didn't love that his neglected cock twitched at that accusation.
“Maybe. You don't seem to mind.”
Right, he did have a slightly vain side to him that rarely showed up. Leehan pushed your leg down back against the bed frame. Next thing you knew his nose was dangerously close to the wet fabric of your panties, head resting on the inside of your thigh and giving him leverage to take a deep sniff. He couldn't be bothered to choke down the throaty groan that followed just after. A thought broke through his hazy mind. Shit, I really am a perv.
Leehan grabbed the ends of the bows on your underwear, effectively untying them and revealing you to him entirely as soon as he pulled the front piece of fabric away. His hands trembled enough you could notice them shake when he swiped two fingers up the entire length of your hole.
“Shit. Shit, I can't wait any longer, baby.” Leehan stood up and pulled his shirt overhead, normally he thought he'd have asked you to remove his belt but there was no time for that now.
You took it upon yourself to lay flat on the mattress, bunching your dress way up to your tits and squeezing your eyes shut. You heard Leehan take your underwear away, but suspiciously never heard them hit the floor. Part of you couldn't believe you were about to let him inside of you without even having his cock in your hand, another part of you was absolutely exhilarated. He'd never been so eager for something in his life, climbing onto the bed.
Leehan put one hand on your waist, the other coming to grip the base of his cock and slide the tip through your folds just as soon as you have the go ahead. Once he deemed himself sufficiently slick, he lined up with the entrance to your pussy. Only having the tiniest portion of his aching length inside you was driving him nuts already.
Painfully slow, Leehan pushed inside with a grunt. You gasped, only imagining the relief he must be feeling right now.
“Fuck! Fuck- Leehan-” Inch by inch he pressed on. You didn't think it was going to end. “Leehan, too big- I can't take it, no more, Shit-”
When he finally bottomed out, your hands were clawing at the sheets desperately trying to adjust to his length and girth. You didn't know what you expected, but it wasn't this. Meanwhile, Leehan’s strangled moans did nothing to help you calm down. You were so impossibly warm, so tight and wet clenching around Leehan he couldn't believe he didn't lose himself immediately. Thankfully, you managed to keep your eyes open for the final inch, trying to memorize every little detail of Leehan’s face as he processed what it was like to have plush walls pulling him in.
“‘M sorry, sweet girl,” Leehan panted.
“No, no, f-feels incredible.” You rolled your hips, encouraging him to follow suit in thrusting deep inside. “You’re just… biggest I’ve ever had.”
Leehan felt a sense of pride at that, taking your hand to press flat against his chest.
“Baby, you might kill me.”
His heart feverishly hammered in his chest, skipping a beat when you unexpectedly brushed your thumb across his hardened nipple.
“Take your time, my lovely Leehan. Savor it. No need to rush.”
Leehan nodded, allowing himself slow and deliberate thrusts. Everything was just too good. Your moans were better than any music to him, sticky sweet. His heart never calmed a single bit beneath your palm.
Rhythmically, you jolted with every circle of your fingers against your clit. You decided it wouldn't hurt to give your new boyfriend a bit of help this time around. You knew he wouldn't last.
His thrusts progressed rather linear, getting faster and harder by the minute and drawing more panicked moans from his shaking body.
“B-Baby-”
“It's alright, Ihanie. I got you.” You watched him raise his hand to his face, your panties wrapped tightly around his fist. You thought you might've died and gone to heaven. “Cum when you're ready, alright? Inside.”
Leehan didn't reply, but you knew he understood as he instantly began chasing his high with tests pricking his eyes.
In little time at all, Leehan's hips were stuttering regularly, his moans growing pitchier. When you interlaced your fingers with his, it was game over.
“Gonna cum, gonna- Fuck- Y/N, I love this, I love this pussy, my girl-” That's when the tears began to fall. “I love y-you so fucking much, my perfect doll, made for my c-cock, made for me. Shit, I love you!”
With one final thrust, Leehan came with a pathetic cry like you'd never heard, spilling his hot seed as far as he could into you. Your orgasm followed not long after, it was too good for you to even make a sound, your pussy squeezing and milking every last drop of cum from Leehan and leaving him babbling sobbing nonsense until he collapsed on top of you.
Between your own gasps you held his head close to your chest, stroking his hair for comfort.
“It's ok. It's ok, I'm here. Just breathe.” You cooed. “You're alright, did amazing, I love you.”
After a few minutes of nuzzling into you and trying to regain some composure, Leehan laid the softest kisses along whatever part of you he could reach.
“H-hey…”
“Hm, you ok?”
“Can… Can we go again? Wanna do better for you. Gonna get used to it so I can… so I can mold your little pussy to the shape of my cock. Make love to you so good you never even think about another man this way. Mine, mine…” His words devolved into slurred mumbling by the end.
What. The. Fuck. You thought, I've created a monster. I… love it.
“Come on, my love,” Your voice was hoarse already. “We have a lot of work to do. Though, you might want to tell your roomie to stay somewhere else.”
Tipsy bold confessions lead to more than what typical best friends would do together. You learn more about one another, more than you’ve ever imagined before, maybe more than you’re able to handle.
pairing ⸝⸝ lee heeseung 𝑥 fem!reader ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𓄵 feat ⸝⸝ other enhypen members - non sexually
genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ smut, idol!heeseung, some fluff, lots of smut..
warnings ⸝⸝ lost of hee’s virginity, drinking, tipsy sex and confessions, teasing, pet names, crying, soft and rough sex, cursing, hee likes to be called sir, messy kissing, so. much. kissing, cum eating, facials, breeding
I apologize if I miss any warnings !
𝒮torm’s note ⸝⸝ six months later and i finally finished this fic.. ㅜㅜ writers block had me in a head lock.. but i’m glad to finally get this published and out of my drafts! this is slightly all over the place (my apologies) but i hope you can enjoy nonetheless ~ xx
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ﴾ 6.3k ﴿ ╱ ﴾ m. list ﴿
𓂃⋆.˚ all feedback and reblogs are welcomed 𓏲𝄢
“Drink up!” Sunoo excitedly shouted at you, all while dramatically throwing your head back with a groan as you hand your glass towards him to refill.
“This is so unfair you know I'm absolutely horrible with these types of games. When’s the last time I've even won?”
Sunoo only shrugs at you with a smug smile, watching as you wait for them to finish counting back from ten before taking your shot, tipping your head back to ensure none spills down yourself. The soju thankfully goes down smoothly (or maybe that’s only possible due to you already beginning to feel a bit tipsy by this point), inhaling sharply between your teeth with squinted eyes. You hated drinking games not because they weren’t fun, you always had a great time, you just absolutely sucked at winning.
“You ok?”
Turning your head you face Heeseung, taking note of his own face starting to form a faint shade of red from drinking, his lips curled up into a soft smile that makes your stomach twist. Nodding in response to his question, he mouths “good” whilst patting the back of your head with his hand a few times before you come to reality, sheepishly turning your head to face away from him. Growing thankful for the tipsy glow on your cheeks masking the blush that was without a doubt starting to blossom in its place. Sitting beside Heeseung had meant you were directly next to your longtime best friend and lifelong crush, internally groaning at the fact you were a victim of the cliche best friend to crush trope, anxiously picking at your tights trying your absolute best to focus on the drunken conversation taking place. Jake was taking love shots with Jay, a dare most likely mischievously curated and requested by no other than Sunoo, the two grown men screaming comically as they pulled away from each other like school children.
Lifting up from your chair at the table, you lean forward just enough to grab a piece of fried chicken with your chopsticks, successfully completing your mission and going to sit back down. The difference in your seat makes you stand back up surprised, looking over behind your shoulder to see that you’ve completely missed your chair altogether and had sat down directly onto Heeseung’s lap. Embarrassment struck you to the core instantly, feeling your face grow hot as you began profusely apologizing quickly trying to explain yourself. Heeseung looked at you with a raised brow, you could easily tell he wasn’t upset or truthfully even close to being bothered, Heeseung shifting in his chair as he not so subtly looked you up and down.
“It’s ok, baby, sit where you’d like.”
Heeseung said that so casually yet still with a clear hint of teasing laced at the end, guiding you back down onto his lap with two hands placed on either side of your hips. The other guys groan begging for the two of you not to be gross, Heeseung quickly tells them to shut up as he returns all of his focus back onto you. He asks if you’re enjoying your night, his randomly timed small talk makes you giggle, nodding. Telling him that it’s nice to be able to come visit at the dorm since they’re not working and overly busy. He smiles huge at that, better securing you onto his lap with his arms wrapped around your waist. Having you now facing him, your legs over to the side, your mouth going dry, Heeseung’s looks being something you’d never be able to familiarize yourself with properly. He was beyond more than handsome.
“You mean that?”
“Why wouldn’t I,” you questioned Heeseung, placing your hands onto his brightly flushed cheeks, your cold hands bringing him comfort.
“Mm,” he hummed. “It’s nice to hear that you miss me.”
You blush again, trying what you can to look away, anywhere but his face, however he brings you back with a finger under your chin, your breath catching in your throat. Drunk Heeseung was bold and it was making you want more, asking him exactly what he was doing.
“Looking at you, you’re really pretty.”
“You’re such a bully, it’s not funny to make fun like this, you know.”
Heeseung gives you a puzzled look as if you said something unimaginable to him. “Making fun of you?”
“You know,” you paused to carefully collect your thoughts to the best of your abilities whilst being this tipsy, “jokingly flirting with me in front of everyone?”
Heeseung raises an eyebrow yet says nothing audible, simply removing you quietly from his lap as he goes to stand up. Worry pricks at your stomach thinking that you’ve accidentally offended him by what’ve you said to him, opening your mouth to apologize but you’re cut off before being able to properly do so.
“Hee,” you squealed as he lifted you up, praying your dress hadn't ridden up and given everyone a glimpse of what was underneath. The other members' drunken cries of playful disgust and teasing are ignored by Heeseung (doing your best to ignore them yourself by burying your face into his chest) as he carries you to his bedroom, pushing the door closed with his foot before turning to make his way to the bed. Gently he drops you onto the mattress, a tiny gasp leaving from your lips as you make contact, pulling the hem of your dress down to protect your modesty.
He stared at you in silence for a moment, an embarrassed smile paired with an awkward laugh escaping from you.
“What, Hee?”
Once again he doesn’t say anything, making his way closer to you, knee bent so that it sits perfectly in place between your legs against the mattress. Pulling you to sit up, he brushes the few strands of hair out of your face. His face was a mere centimeters away from yours by this point, your breath hitched as you became frozen still, anticipating what Heeseung was planning. This was unlike Heeseung, who’s always never purposely crossed any lines over the best friend relationship you two shared, your stomach turning into knots out of confusion but mostly excitement mixed with curiosity. He moves which makes you gasp, his mouth so close to your ear that his breath fanned your neck, your mind thinking what his lips would feel like against your neck, causing you to squeeze your thighs together around his knee - that action not going unnoticed by Heeseung who chuckles amused but pleased.
“I really want to touch you, may I?”
The request floats around your head before you nod, letting out a whine as you give Heeseung audible permission to do so.
“Please, please touch me.”
Heeseung doesn’t hesitate longer than he has to, his large hands wrapping around the plush flesh of your thighs while his mouth crashes into yours. It’s messy, the alcohol bitter against your tongue as his tongue slips alongside yours. He seems eager, hungry even, which only excited you more than anything wondering how long you both had painfully waited for this very moment to happen. The sound of ripping fabric brings your attention away from the kiss, pulling back to look down, seeing Heeseung has ripped apart your tights leaving your thighs exposed to him.
“Sorry,” he said softly, his smile evident he was in fact not sorry, but you couldn’t get out a response as he looked down then back up at you.
“Although it doesn’t seem to bother you, hm?”
You turn red with embarrassment knowing the wet patch on your panties grew from that question laced with taunting. The dress has failed to stay down, the fabric bunched up around your hips, unable to close your thighs with how he was positioned. He repeated his question, looking into his eyes, gasping as he rips the tights further, your panties becoming his main view. Your mind goes fuzzy, whimpering in response when he pressed his fingers up against the very evident wet patch. Need pricked every nerve in the entirety of your body, subtly shaking as Heeseung removed himself away from under your dress.
“Heeseung, please this is cruel,” you whined, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. He chuckles at your desperation finding it amusing how quickly you grew impatient, kissing at your neck. The way his lips brushed and kissed your neck felt better than anything you could have imagined. Sighing contentedly as you mumbled his name under your breath, his grip on you tightening in response. Nevertheless Heeseung had no intention of furthering this just yet, teasing you to what seemed that had no clear end. Every subtle brush of his lips moving down your throat made you clench around nothing, drawing in your breath simultaneously as he pressed the pad of his thumb hard flushed against your clit over your panties, instinctively moving your hand up to curl your fingers into the baby hairs that adorned the back of his neck.
“Fuck,” he trailed off as you tugged at his hair, Heeseung dipping his face back into the crook of your neck leaving wet open mouth kisses in it’s wake. Trailing down your throat he makes his way down to your collarbones, delving his tongue into your clavicle as he kisses the area leaving small red hickeys. He guides you to lay down on your back, his knee pushing into your pussy causing you to moan from the added pressure, pulling him away from your chest and back into a kiss. It’s not as messy as the previous kiss, this one more heated as the two of you grew handsy. Heeseung lets out a strained moan that brings a smirk to your lips, breaking the kiss to peek down at your hand that was palming him through his pants. His erection grew (a fact that made your head dizzy with just finding out he was already sizeable while soft) Heeseung guiding you back to regain eye contact, his eyes hooded with need. You weren’t much better, wanting or more so needing him, giving him a few slow strokes over his pants, trying your hardest to form a coherent sentence.
“Do you have a condom,” you asked breathlessly between a few shared kisses. Heeseung nods, leaning over away from you to reach over to his nightstand, opening the top drawer to his bedside table, pulling a small box of condoms out. He cutely fumbled with the box as he opened it, picking one from out the box. You watch as he begins ripping it open carefully, moving back to you. Heat runs over you in massive waves watching Heeseung intensely as he strips himself down until he’s wearing nothing. He teases you as he pulls off your dress, your panties not lasting much long after that, the thin fabric torn and discarded absent-mindedly somewhere onto the bedroom floor. Sitting up to rest on his knees, you watch as Heeseung rolls the condom on, visibly shaking from the sensation, rolling his head to the side as he tucks his bottom lip in between his teeth. The sight makes your stomach burn with lust, looking up at him. He grabs a pillow guiding it to be tucked under your hips, maneuvering your legs so that he can fit between them easier. A shudder runs down your spine as he rubs himself against your pussy, pushing the head of his dick through your folds but not giving either of you the satisfaction of easing himself in, this drawing a needy whimper from deep within you. Heeseung takes his time with you, continuing his slow pace of rubbing against you whilst filling out the bedroom with the lewd sounds of your pussy growing wetter for him alongside your desperate noises.
“Hee,” you cut yourself off to gather both yourself and your thoughts, swallowing hard before continuing, “please, I need more. I need you.” The last bit of your sentence is trailed off from your head lulling to the side, whining growing desperate by the millisecond not knowing how much more teasing you could put up with by this point.
At first Heeseung seems to hesitate but it’s clear as day that he’s equally as desperate, although not saying anything as he begins repositioning himself so that he can kiss up your neck to your cheeks. Whimpering softly with scrunched eyes as he lines himself back up before ultimately slipping into you, your fingers curling around his biceps asking him to wait, needing a moment shocked once again by the sheer size of his dick.
“Sorry, fuck, wow,” Heeseung rambles, his voice shaky as he halts his movements to allow you a moment to grow comfortable. Giving him a few squeezes around him in an attempt to familiarize yourself to his size, you take a final deep breath and nod, giving him the go ahead to continue. Pulling back his hips he groans loudly when he pushes back in, feeling your walls clench so beautifully around him with each slow thrust. It didn’t take much more than a few minutes before the impatientness grew in your limbs, begging Heeseung to fuck you, needy whines ripping out of you until he picked up speed. His thrusts were messy and ever so slightly uncoordinated as his thighs slammed into yours, the skin reddening with impact but you loved every second of it making sure to vocalize your thoughts. Heeseung leans down and assaults your throat with his mouth, his lips kissing it whilst his teeth mark you as his. Heeseung’s possessiveness being exposed by his need to mark you, mumbling under his breath that you were his. The slightest change of position deepens his thrusts making your eyes squeeze shut tight, swearing under your breath, reaching up so that your nails dig into his arm. Mumbling something into your neck that you’re unable to make out, the two of you in an impatient frenzy not caring to stop and repeat yourselves. You questioned if the members could hear the two of you, slightly embarrassed by how loud you were being but your thoughts were casted aside as Heeseung pulled completely out of you. It makes you whine in annoyance, frantically searching for his thigh with your hands, digging your nails into the soft skin wondering why he removed himself from you in the first place.
“Why, please,” you pant feverishly between each word, Heeseung seemingly finding it amusing how desperate you were whilst questioning him. He roughly pushes himself back into you, your head tipped back with wide eyes, back lifted up into an arch. You were completely under his command by this point, allowing him to bring your legs together and over to the side so that his thrusts could reach much deeper. The pleasure is slightly unbearable, unsure what to do, burying your face into one of the other pillows on Heeseung’s bed, moans being muffled. Having you on your side, Heeseung lands a rather firm slap across your ass, making you yelp in surprise, removing yourself from the pillow and glaring at him.
“Don’t hide your pretty face from me.”
You stare at him in silence, your mind fuzzing around the edges growing dumb, receiving another slap that lands directly in the same spot, clenching your teeth in an odd mixture of pain and satisfaction.
“Yes, Sir,” you whine, falling back into the pillows, staring at his proud expression knowing that he had you completely under his control. The nickname snapping something in Heeseung, arching your back as his fingers press fingertip sized bruises into your soft skin. His movements grew intense, more coordinated, his nails moving to dig into your ankle. The lewd sounds of your skin connecting with his made you wetter, gasping as Heeseung threw your legs open, manhandling you to lay flat onto your back. With an arm on either side of your head, he leans forward so that his face hovers over yours, his hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. He looked gorgeous, part of his bangs hanging down, his lips swollen red, eyes knitted together as he focused on solely making you feel good. Heeseung groaned when he leaned even closer, finding himself kissing your chest then slowly back up to reconnect with your lips. He was growing feverish which was evident from how he couldn’t seem to focus on just one area of your body to kiss, his speech slurred as he grew drunk from the prior alcohol he consumed and now from you.
“Fuck, feels so good, I’m going to die,” Heeseung rambled near incoherently into the crook of your neck. Feeling as his wet hot tongue lap at your skin made your toes curl, instinctively reaching a hand over to pull at his hair. Your mind was growing fuzzier, no longer in control of your own body nor even your own actions as you pulled him impossibly closer to yourself, fingers tangled tightly in Heeseung’s hair to lock him into a kiss. The way in his tongue worked alongside your own made you feel savage, insane, locking your shaky legs around his torso. His thrusts were now growing faster as his thighs tightened and convulsed, tightening the grip around your waist with his large hands.
A loud groan erupted from Heeseung’s throat, muffled by your heated kiss as he cummed into the condom. His eyes are closely knit together as he continues to fuck into you despite having reaching his orgasm, determined to have you cum around him. The fire in your stomach was growing unbearable, your body lifting into an arch but ensuring your legs kept tight around his body as you cum hard around Heeseung, your eyes blown open as you became flush with the bed. He doesn’t pull out just yet, holding himself up weakly by his forearms to not crush you, the both of you trying to catch your breath before looking at each other.
“I always wanted to do this,” Heeseung said with a smirk, taking a deep breath as he swore, pulling out slowly. With shaky hands he carefully pulls and ties off the condom, discarding it into the trash can then returning back to bed with you. He seems a bit lost at first but he quickly recovers coming to help you out of bed so you’re able to use the bathroom, Heeseung spewing about utis to which you ignored, telling him to please stop talking so you could focus.
Placing your head against his stomach as you used the bathroom, you told him he talked too much, Heeseung giving you a little laugh in return.
“Harsh words coming from the person who took my virginity.”
Your eyes widened, shooting to sit up straight ignoring the slight pain in your lower back as you looked at him in pure shock and disbelief, making him flinch slightly in surprise.
“Heeseung. Do not joke like that with me.”
“I’m not joking, I mean, you did just take my virginity.”
Your hand slaps against your mouth, eyes shaking as you shake your head still in disbelief from this new found information. Heeseung nods with a smirk that you knew meant he was telling the truth (as well as being cocky, he knew he did you good - definitely had you convinced he wasn’t a virgin). You had just taken his virginity, a fact you simply couldn’t begin to wrap your head around. You suddenly felt sober, too sober, tears pricking your eyes as you tilted your head down feeling immensely shameful. Confused and equally as concerned, Heeseung crouches down and places a hand under your chin to raise your head up.
“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, doing his best to sound calm despite feeling utterly confused.
Shaking your head in an attempt for him to leave your side, Heeseung stands firmly in his position, asking you once more. Lifting your head up to look at him, your bottom lip trembles as you speak, more tears threatening to fall given if you spoke too much more.
“I didn’t know you were still a virgin, I wouldn’t have come onto you like I had.”
Heeseung looks hurt, then softens his expression, petting the side of your head until his thumb is able to comfortably brush away the tears that had stained your cheeks.
“How can you feel sorry for something I initiated, hm?”
You tried to open your mouth to reply but it only made the urge to cry worse, shaking your head once more as you buried your face into his chest as he crouched down to comfort you better. There wasn’t a good way for you to explain to Heeseung why you felt guilty taking his virginity, not wanting to come off the wrong way and causing an even bigger misunderstanding. He allows you to cry until you can’t anymore, wiping the tears off your face with his fingers, before asking again why you felt apologetic for something he had so clearly orchestrated in the first place.
“Had I known you were a virgin I would’ve made it special for you, I can’t believe I ruined your first time the way I have.” You trail off into word vomit, Heeseung cutting you off successfully with a kiss, his hand holding you still by the back of your neck. Heeseung didn’t want you overthinking (or thinking at all at this point - which was more than successful) due to him not sharing the status of his virginity, pulling away watching as the weak strand of saliva that connected the two of you broke.
“I wanted this, more than you’re prepared to know, ok? I don’t need cliche first time with flowers and you whispering sweet things into my ear,” Heeseung said, tucking some loose hair behind your ear. His voice was calming as equally as it was convincing, he made you feel less guilty about the situation that you blew up in your head, giving him a faint “ok” alongside a head nod. He plants one last kiss onto the crown of your head before heading to walk back to the bedroom, telling you to finish up and he will meet you back there with warm clothes and a movie. Smiling as he closes the bathroom door behind him, you lift yourself onto shaky legs (a byproduct from sex and sitting on the toilet for an ungodly amount of time) you bite your knuckle as you work on cleaning yourself up, overly sensitive from earlier. The overstimulation unlocks something in your brain, allowing a breathy moan to escape from the depths of your throat, any innocent or guilt ridden thought being put onto the back burner. Washing and drying your hands with a clean towel you open the bathroom door to walk back into the bedroom, seeing a now clothed Heeseung sitting in bed with his back against the headboard. He lights up when he sees you, offering an oversized pair of shorts and one of his shirts that you already knew you’d be swimming in. Ignoring his offer (much to his confusion) you climb into bed, crawling the short distance until you’re practically on his lap, kissing his neck.
“What are you doing,” he questioned with an amused tone, his hand sneaking its way to your backside, swatting his hand away which surprises him. Sitting up you smugly smile at him, messing with the band to his shorts but not doing anything beyond that. It was thrilling watching as he hitched his breath just to sigh in annoyance when you teased with your silence and the possibility of furthering your flirty touches. Your hand makes its way back to his shorts, this time exceeding past the band. Heeseung’s breath catches in his throat in surprise, watching your hand travel down the entirety of his dick before traveling back up in painfully slow strokes. His bangs hang in his face, tilted forward too focused on how your hand felt around him to think much of anything else, growing needier in every aspect. Twisting your wrist, Heeseung's eyes blow wide, a strangled moan erupting from him that took the both of you by surprise.
“You liked that, hm?” You taunted, giving the head of his dick another firm squeeze. Heeseung doesn’t respond with coherent sentences, reduced to whines and tiny pathetic mumbling begging for more. It’s not what you're looking for, removing your hand from him, ignoring his defeated sounds asking what you were doing. With a snap of your fingers you demand him to take off his shorts, he seems to hesitate for a mere millisecond but frantically moves to remove them. A triumphant smile reaches your lips telling him he’s a good boy for obeying you without a fight. The praise rushes from his ears down to his exposed dick an erection now in full view for you to tease him with. Taking it back into your hand, you push your thumb pad into the soft slit of his dick, watching him twitch under your hand.
“I’ll take that as a clear yes then.”
Heeseung’s mind felt fuzzy, this new sensation growing almost unbearable as he let his head fall back against the headboard.
“Please,” he groaned, a bubble in his throat popping as he tried to keep himself grounded. His face is flushed a bright rosy red, sweat starting to form on his brow, mumbling over himself. Your thumb moving back and forth is in a lazy, unfocused, movement wanting to continue listening to Heeseung’s desperation.
“Fuck, please, baby,” Heeseung groans, his voice deep and raspy, wrapping a shaky hand around the wrist that was torturing his dick. His eyes shook whilst the corners collected overwhelmed tears, desperately seeking more. Still, you wanted to test his patience a hint more, repositioning yourself so you laid flat on your stomach. Locking in eye contact, you have Heeseung gasping from a few kittenish licks against the head of his dick. He mumbles something along the lines of this being pure torture smirking to yourself before you break eye contact, wrapping your lips around the tip, tongue swirling around just directly underneath the head. Heeseung makes a humming sound in the back of his throat, his fingers finding their way to your hair, raking through it once before curling the digits near the back of your head. Keeping his grip firm, you groan deep in your throat as his hold on you causes a few tugs if you lean forward too much. Pulling back so Heeseung was no longer in your mouth leaves Heeseung swearing under his breath. He knew you were purposely torturing him. Heat flooding his senses.
“Please,” Heeseung’s voice is raspy, barely above a whisper but the clear desperation and need dripping off his lips brings heat flooding to your stomach. With a click of your tongue you lean back down to where his dick laid heavy on his lower abdomen, wrapping a hand around the base to guide it to your mouth - coating it with a generous amount of spit using your hand to stroke the base. Moving to take the tip of Heeseung’s dick back into your mouth, swirling your tongue, taking more little by little. Once you’ve fully taken what you can, you swallow around Heeseung who tightens their grip on your hair, a loud moan erupting from their chest.
“Such a good girl for me, made to simply take my dick.”
His filthy words make you pool in between your legs, clenching around nothing in hopes of helping with how badly your clit ached. Heeseung used the hand gripping your hair to help guide you
with bobbing on his dick, calling you a messy eater once drool and saliva dripped from your sloppy lips. Initially you had wanted to be the one in control but that plan had been long forgotten, eyes rolled back into your skull with Heeseung losing any prior restrants now fully fucking up into your mouth with messy thrusts. It was overwhelmingly harsh breathing through your nose, tears starting to roll down mixing with the spit on your cheeks and lips.
“Fuck, yeah just like that baby, keep making me feel good.” Heeseung moans, a chuckle of disbelief rolling off his lips. He couldn’t believe how the two of you had gotten to this moment, the girl of his dreams a drooly dumb mess on his dick. A fire built in the pit of Heeseung’s stomach grew uncontrollable, his head tipping forward with furrowed brows, a sharp moan from him as he cums hard. The grip on your hair makes it impossible for you to pull away having to swallow Heeseung’s load to ensure you don’t choke, eyebrows scrunched together at the warm cum soaking your throat. With the hand still wrapped tight around your hair, Heeseung pulls you off, a wet mixture of spit and cum dripping down your chin, the thin strings of saliva connecting you to his dick breaking and coating you both. It was gross but Heeseung twitched at the sight, letting your hair go to use his fingers to swipe a bit of the mixture off your lips before then having you suck the digits clean, praising you for being so obedient.
Your mind is nothing but mush by this point, drunkenly smiling up at Heeseung who pets your hair to lay back flat out of your face, bringing you up by your arm to initiate a kiss. It’s wet, grossly sticky, as he tastes himself off your tongue. Something about it makes him moan against your lips, guiding you to straddle his lap, snaking a hand down to hold your hip. Your tongues work in perfect harmony, a gasp being swallowed by Heeseung as he lands a harsh slap against your bare ass. He leaves no time for you to collect yourself as his fingers are teasing your wet pussy, spreading the folds apart allowing his middle finger to tease and prod at your eager hole. You’re greedy trying to lean back so that it’ll slip in but Heeseung is stronger keeping you in place with the hand on the back of your neck, whining into his mouth about wanting him. A blush across your face when he asked you to repeat yourself, to beg if you wanted it that badly. To which you do, leaning into his chest, licking and nipping his ear lobe.
“Fuck me, please? Want you to fill me up, make me yours.”
“Unless,” you leave a pause, smirking as you whisper into his ear. “I should ask one of your friends to come fuck me for you.”
That's more than enough for Heeseung to angrily stuff his fingers into your wet pussy, the hand on the back of your neck tightening leaving you gasping. Heeseung wasn’t no longer the sweet man from earlier, his fingers scissoring you open as he demanded you to tell him who you belonged to, rough slaps against your ass when you took too long to respond. You were his. Squealing as he corrected your behavior by removing his fingers, manhandling you so that you were on your stomach, legs tucked underneath you. There’s no build up, Heeseung pushing himself into you harshly, mounting you until he has you into a mating press. He was going to ensure you never thought about another man again, his thrust making you come in contact with the headboard, tears forming in your eyes making your vision blur.
“Hee,” you cry out, nails digging into the sheets, tears starting to fall and roll down your flushed cheeks.
Heeseung leans forward so that his body weight traps you underneath him, he pushes your hair out of his way, biting roughly into your shoulder. It makes you scream, begging him to slow down, Heeseung responding with a laugh.
“Going to remind you that you’re mine, train this pussy to only cum if I am the reason. You understand?”
“Yes-,” you let out an animalistic whine, Heeseung pulling you into a headlock, forcing you to stare at the mirror directly to your right.
“Try again.”
“Sir, yes Sir,” you whimper when he calls you his good girl earning a kiss on your cheek as he continues to fuck into you with growing speed. Your pussy was red, bruised, hungrily swallowing Heeseung like the greedy whore you were for him. Your second orgasm was dangerously near, something snapping in you as Heeseung added the slightest bit of pressure in the chokehold, squeezing around him in response. Heat flooded into your abdomen and inner thighs, begging him to let you go, saying you needed to use the bathroom. He ignores your pleas, sobbing uncontrollably now as your body gives out, squirting around Heeseung’s dick with a shrill scream being fucked out of you. He doesn’t slow down as he chases his own orgasm, your sensitive walls being abused by your best friend, whimpering nonsense into the sheets as you watch yourself in the mirror.
Feeling Heeseung’s thighs start to shake and convulse, your eyes roll sweetly back into your skull as he cums hard into you, body going limp having to catch himself with a shaky arm to not crush you. He doesn’t pull out just yet, guiding you along with him so that he’s next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath. Neither of you say anything for a while until Heeseung presses small kisses into your shoulder blade, shakily gasping as he pulls out, having you turn over to face him. He calls you pretty which earns a laugh, humming happily when he cups your face into his hand, pulling you into a slower kiss. It’s sweet, romantic, butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach as Heeseung pulls away, playing with the ends of your hair.
“How do you feel?”
“Sore,” you chuckle, giving him a kiss. “Otherwise, really, really good.”
His free hand is massaging your hip, fingers digging into your skin making soft content hums come from you.
“Let’s get a shower and head to bed, yeah?”
Stealing a peek at the time it was well past six in the morning now, your eyes widening is disbelief. Heeseung laughs at your shocked expression, helping you off the bed and towards the bathroom on shaky legs. Landing a playful slap across your ass, you stumble, the two of you laughing as Heeseung grabs you in a panic to help stabilize you.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, kissing your cheek as he opened the bathroom door.
“Slapping me when I already can’t walk? You’re shameless.”
“It’s not my fault that I have a pretty girlfriend.”
Heeseung had said it so casually you nearly didn’t catch it, the two of you freezing before looking at one another. His cheeks were bright red, you could feel yours warming up as well, but not to the extreme degree he currently was. At first he goes to open his mouth, apologize for calling you his girlfriend when you weren’t, but something in him stopped him. He wasn’t sorry for calling you that, he wanted you to be his girlfriend, wrapping his hands around the base of your jaw, kissing you. The two of you didn’t need words to know what that kiss meant, Heeseung guiding you towards the sink, lifting you to sit on the cool marble. The contrast of the cool sink against your warm skin causes you to jump, giggling into Heeseung’s mouth who giggled along with you. His hands slowly slide down to comfortably rest on your waist, Heeseung pulling back to look at you, the held eye contact and comfortable silence making the butterflies in your stomach dance.
“So, is it okay to assume you’re my girlfriend?”
Heeseung asked this while tucking your hair behind your ear, a smile on his lips.
“Wow, not even going to ask me out? After I took your virginity and all.”
A laugh bellows out of Heeseung, who nods, stepping away to open the bathroom door, peering into the bedroom watching as Heeseung goes to the bedroom’s door now. He sticks his head out just enough so he wouldn’t accidentally flash either of you.
“Just so everyone knows, she’s my girlfriend now!” Heeseung yells into the hallway, hearing the sound of bottles clinking together and a rather loud, “fucking finally!” Assuming it was Jay. Slamming the door behind him, you laugh watching Heeseung walk back into the bathroom, humming happily when he stops in front of you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“You’re insane,” you laughed, a clear smile across your face expressing how you felt perfectly. Heeseung nods, a smile on his own face, giving you several small pecks agaisnt your lips.
“Yeah but you like it. My, pretty, girlfriend.”
“I do, I really do. I love you.”
Those three words bring a blush to creep up your neck to your face, giggling watching Heeseung’s expressions. He brings you into another romantic kiss, his actions soft and full of passion. He goes to slip his fingers into you but you stop him, telling him you were sore and desperately wanting a shower. He makes a joke about using the shower for another round calling him a feral beast, Heeseung laughing hard as he helps you off the sink and into the shower. He’s respectfully helping you shower without making it an excuse to initiate another round, helping dry your hair afterwards so you don’t catch a cold.
Once the both of you are ready to climb into bed, thankfully with clean sheets and comforters, you nuzzle your face into Heeseung’s chest. He smells like ocean air and sandalwood, the warmth radiating off him blanketing you in sleepy comfort. His hands fall into a repetitive rhythm of rubbing your back, your eyes starting to struggle to stay open.
“Hee,” you softly whispered, Heeseung giving you a quiet, “hm?”
You lift your head up, your eyes moving from his eyes to his lips, back up, before moving your head back to its previous position.
“I love you.”
“I love you most,” Heeseung said, wrapping you closer to him if that was even humanly possible.
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. Not taking very long for you two to fall asleep, curled up in each other's arms. Happily content and thankful for your inability to win drinking games.
Hanbin had left you that morning with a ruined orgasm, leaving you with nothing but the urge to get back at him. Seemingly an easy plan to execute, you don’t think far ahead, something that will leave you wanting more.
pairing ⸝⸝ park hanbin 𝑥 fem!reader ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𓄵 feat ⸝⸝ other evnne members - non sexually
word count ⸝⸝ 3,2k +
genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ smut, very little plot, established relationship, idol!hanbin
warnings ⸝⸝ dubcon - fingering in public, car sex, breeding kink, hanbin gets hard over nicknames, possessiveness, unprotected sex, soft dom!hanbin, slow and rough sex, manhandling, mention of oral sex - f! receiving, pet names - mainly femme, manhandling, hanbin likes to lick his fingers, kissing, messy, lots of cursing and teasing.
I apologize for any missed warnings.
⠀⠀⠀
The sound of the passenger side door opening brings a smile to your face, placing your hand playfully into your boyfriend's, allowing him to help you out of the car. Hanbin shuts the door carefully behind you while still making sure you made it over the curb and onto the sidewalk with ease. You laugh hearing the back doors open, Seungeon dramatically asking Hanbin to help him out of the car too. Hanbin told him to stop talking as he jokingly bickered with the three members who were jumping out of the back seats.
Tonight was the first night Hanbin was fully free, him and his group successfully completing their promotions. Hanbin had suggested the two of you go out by yourselves, saying that the members didn’t need him to be there to have fun, but you knew the other members would love to have him there and plus, you adored his friends. They took you into their little family rather quickly, something you were very thankful for. You fix your dress, pulling it down so it landed perfectly mid thigh, smiling to yourself noticing Hanbin’s lingering glances. He was wondering why you were dressed up, but he’d never ask you not wanting to ever make it seem like he was questioning you. There was reasoning behind your sudden decision to skip out on your usual pair of grey sweats and padded vest, one that Hanbin hadn’t seemed to remember just quite yet.
That morning Hanbin had woken you up with his head buried in between your legs, tongue thrusting in and out of your pussy bringing you dangerously close to an orgasm before ruining it completely by pulling away and off the bed entirely.
“Hanbin, wait, please, so close.” You had begged, your mind fuzzy whilst your body screamed from the lack of release. Hanbin simply smiled down at you, fixing his jacket as he gave you a quick kiss against your forehead. Being unsuccessful in pulling him back into bed, whining with a pout as he walks to the bedroom door, opening it and stepping most of the way out before leaning back to give you another smile. “I got to go, I'll be late, I love you.” With that he shuts the door behind him and leaves you with a ruined orgasm and a plan on getting him back.
“Ready to go in?”
Hanbin pulls you from your memories, giving him a nod as he allows you to comfortably wrap your arm around his, guiding you inside to find the table where the other three members were. Upon finding their table Hanbin helped you in your seat, letting you in before scooting into the booth with you, smirking as the members teased you two for being quote on quote, “sickly sweet and gross.” As he settles down beside you everyone instantly gets to flipping through the menus deciding what to order, thankfully everyone is quick to choose so it’s not long before you’re able to start appetizers and drinks. The conversation is comfortable between everyone, mostly the members talking about their feelings on the promotions and telling embarrassing stories about Hanbin, who playfully whines trying to defend himself.
Your plan was working out in your favor, Hanbin wasn’t suspecting a thing, and you only felt partially bad about executing it in front of the other members. However, they’ll be completely clueless, you hoped. Peering over to your right, seeing what was out of your reach but easily accessible to Hanbin, you place your hand purposely on his upper thigh and lean into it.
“Charlie,” Hanbin didn’t hear you at first. So, you give your hand a quick squeeze grabbing his attention, feigning innocence heavily onto your speech.
“Charlie, can you please grab me more meat?”
Hanbin completely freezes under your hand, his eyes widening, you swear you could feel him twitch and harden from the nickname. Giving his thigh another playful squeeze.
“What, she calls you Charlie?” Keita laughs, the members picking innocent fun at the name, none of them aware Hanbin was fighting both his erection and the urge to slam you onto the table right then and there forcing you on his dick in front of everyone. He becomes aware of his surroundings and actions, laughing awkwardly as he explains it’s just something you two do, his own hand finding itself onto your thigh, grip firm around it. He was warning you. Now you hadn’t thought about the plan after the nickname, sipping from your glass as you knew the longer you two sat here, the less likely Hanbin was going to wait before getting you out of clothes and onto him. The thought excited you, embarrassingly blushing as Hanbin’s fingertips brush under your dress ever so slightly. He was making an attempt to brush them over your panties and if he was successful, Hanbin knew exactly how excited you were, a wet patch slowly forming onto the thin fabric.
As the conversation slows back into what it had been previously, you have to hold your facial expressions still, your fingers curling around the booth’s cushion until your knuckles turn white. Hanbin had scooted closer to you with such subtlety that not a single person had noticed, two of his fingers now knuckle deep into your wet pussy. His fingers weren’t extraordinarily long by any means but they knew exactly how to make you fall apart, his thumb occasionally rubbing up against your clit making you squeeze your legs around his hand. He’d pretend to fix his posture using his free hand to lightly pinch your side as a sign to open your legs for him or else. Obliging to his rules, you spread your thighs apart, Hanbin pushing his fingers back and forth, thankful for the loud buzz of the restaurant masking the sound of your wet pussy squelching around the digits. Hanbin must’ve realized why you were acting this way, pulling his fingers out of you right before your orgasm hit, placing his fingers into his mouth as if cleaning sauce off them. No one had noticed but your body was screaming like it was that morning, grabbing his hand and pulling it back down under the table, giving him a look.
Please, let’s go. Your eyes begged, there was no chance of you being able to survive another edge let alone denied a third orgasm. Hanbin takes a glance around the table before looking back at you seemingly weighing his options, deciding he couldn’t hold himself back for much longer either, Hanbin butts into the conversation. Handing Keita some money to cover both of you, he thanks everyone for the dinner and asks if they wouldn’t mind going home in one car so he could take the other. Seungeon goes to open his mouth to ask why they’d need the second car for themselves but Jeonghyeon gives him a look, everyone snickering as Keita gives you two permission. They weren’t stupid they knew why you two were leaving early and by yourselves but they rather it than having to hear the two of you back at the dorms. Walls were unfortunately rather thin. Bidding everyone goodbye, you follow Hanbin out of the restaurant into the warm summer night. It was slightly humid, the moisture leaving your skin a bit sticky, blushing as Hanbin grabs you by your elbow, pinning you against the side of the car. His lips slot with yours, the kiss wet and warm, fire erupted in your thighs and stomach feeling as if you would melt from his touch. A hand making its way down your side and cupping your ass, you whine against Hanbin’s lips, pulling back as the both of you gasp for breath. Neither of you say anything as Hanbin helps you into the car before getting in himself, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. The drive is quiet, the air thick with need and anticipation. His hand rests around your thigh, grip firm and dominant. The way his hand sat high up on your thigh made you excited, knowing if he opened his hand for whatever reason, his fingers would graze right over your panties. Exactly where you needed and wanted him the most. Reaching the secluded area where the two of you had shared privacy before, Hanbin turns off the car and looks over at you. However, Hanbin’s actions are too fast for your brain which doesn't allow you to have the time to process anything. He goes from leaning over you to push your seat all the way down, to climbing half way over the console with his mouth all over you. His hands feverishly claw off your dress needing your nipples in his mouth. Hanbin was a boob man with a lack of shame, loving the way you withered and whined as he played with them, sucking your nipples sore and pink, rolling and pinching the soft buds in betweenst his forefinger and thumbs.
“Come here, baby,” Hanbin grunts, guiding you to climb onto his lap. His seat being pushed fully back gave you the space you needed to climb easily onto his lap, a blush evident on your cheeks feeling vulnerable just in your thin and soaked through panties while he sat there fully clothed. He must’ve noticed due to a smirk forming on his lips, bringing his hands to travel up your sides and cup your chest, squeezing and pushing the buds to watch you gasp and whine on his lap. Hanbin knew your nipples were sensitive growing dangerously wet, beginning to roll your hips needing relief from the greediness growing in between your legs.
“Look at you so desperate for me, aren’t you?”
You don’t verbally respond at first, just nodding as a response before Hanbin gives your right boob a firm smack, choking out a “yes, please, need you.”
That excites Hanbin listening as he directs you to lift your hips, Hanbin undoing his belt and jeans button, yanking the denim down to pool at his ankles. You can clearly see the outline of his erection through his boxers, heat pooling down into your stomach, looking back up to Hanbin’s face with an expression of desperation. His finger slips under the band of your panties, snapping it back against your hip, causing you to gasp, whining into his neck that he was mean. He gives you a laugh, kneading the fat of your ass in his hands.
“I can’t help it, baby, you look so cute in the panties I bought you. Such a shame they’re soaked through and soon ripped off you, hm?”
“Mm, but you’ll buy me more so it’s okay.” You teased Hanbin back, cupping his cheek into one of your hands as you brought him into a heated kiss. At some point your panties are pulled off your ass, Hanbin’s fingers making their way to your dipping pussy, slipping in with ease.
“Fuck so wet for me, my good girl.”
Your pussy clenches around his fingers from that comment, pulling your mouth off his and bringing your face into the crook of his neck to suck marks into his beautifully tanned skin. Pet names and praises made your body shake, losing your mind. His fingers knew how to get you going, your juices dripping down the digits that stirred Hanbin deeply, his erection painfully hard against your thigh.
“Please fuck me, I miss you,” you hummed into his ear, giggling as Hanbin curses under his breath. It takes little to no time for Hanbin to get your panties fully off your legs along with his own boxers and jeans discarded onto the car's floorboard. He fishes for a condom, telling him to go without, blushing as Hanbin asks if you’re trying to kill him, knowing your boyfriend’s not so subtle breeding kink. He has you rub yourself on his dick, your pussy wetting his dick beautifully, tipping his head back to watch you work. With a gasp you cling to Hanbin as he leans suddenly forward, fixing the rear view mirror so that you’d have a perfect view of yourself when he ultimately had you bouncing on his dick (although he loved having you face him as he fucked you so the change in mirror direction was pointless).
Deciding he was sufficiently wet enough, Hanbin guides you to slide down onto his dick, your eyes fluttering as you take him fully. He was perfect, not too big that it hurt to take him but not small where it lacked a challenge. In other words, Hanbin was made perfectly for you. Bottoming out you look at Hanbin who petted your hair, tucking your bangs behind your ear, praising you for taking him so well. It doesn’t take him very long to get you bouncing on his lap, his hands helping with that by lifting you up and firmly bringing you back down. The sound of skin coming into contact with skin makes your head spin, intoxicated from the way your body feels being used so sweetly. It was very rarely that Hanbin was rough with you but on the rare occasion he did, you lost your mind. The all too familiar feeling of an orgasm brewing in your lower abdomen and your legs start to shake, you place your hands flush against Hanbin’s chest, gasping in between your words.
“Wait, oh my god, wait, please slow down.”
Hanbin chuckles at your demands but still obliged, wanting to drag this out for as long as he can.
“Now that’s not what you asked for this morning.”
“Shut up,” you whimpered, clenching around him as you tried to ground yourself, allowing Hanbin to interlock your fingers with his.
Hanbin chuckles, his thrusts gentle and steady as he coaxes the sweetest moans out of you. He doesn’t rush wanting to make you feel good, ensuring you feel each thrust perfectly. Although it didn’t take very long for your greed to come back through your veins, untuck your bottom lip from your teeth and groan. Feeling insane from the indescribable pleasure coursing throughout your entire body, you squeeze Hanbin’s hand hard, thighs shaking rather harshly.
Tilting your head forward, you let yourself be vocal, crying out for Hanbin to fuck you harder. Your body shaking so hard you felt as if you’d pass out, feverishly leaning into Hanbin to messily kiss in between your incoherent babbles.
“My Binnie, fuck, feels so good. Mine, you’re all mine, please fuck me harder I need your cum. Want your babies.”
Hanbin’s breeding kink being encouraged makes something snap in him entirely, no longer softly and sweetly fucking you and now his thrusts being perfectly uncoordinated. He was obsessed with how vocal you could be whilst being wrapped around him, Hanbin firmly holding you to his chest so he had the perfect position that allowed him to thrust into you. With your head spinning, moaning into Hanbin’s chest as you lose yourself into your body’s pleasure, the red hot heat in your lower abdomen takes over fully. Your orgasm hits hard, your lungs feeling as if the oxygen in them had been knocked out of you - cumming around Hanbin while your thighs convulse violently, slumping into his chest. Pretty moans are coaxed out of you as Hanbin chases his own orgasm, whispering sweetly into his ear to cum in you. At first he hesitates but with an encouraging clench around him, Hanbin cums, groaning loud as he ensures every drop is buried deep in your womb.
Quietness besides the panting for oxygen and small giggles of reality hitting the two of you fills the car, Hanbin helping you sit up on his lap. He fixes your hair, planting several kisses across your sweaty flushed pink cheeks, fishing for a bottle of water he had left in the center console. You welcome the water with shaky hands, ignoring the droplets running down your chin to your clavicle, gasping loudly for air when you pull the bottle away from your mouth. Shyly handing the near empty water bottle to Hanbin to finish off.
“Sorry,” you giggled, as he closed the empty bottle and discarded mindlessly into the back seat. Hanbin tells you not to worry about it, groaning as you unintentionally shift on his lap, your walls dragging along his sensitive dick. Cockwarming was something the two of you enjoyed but the sensitivity made tears well up in Hanbin’s eyes, his hands holding you down as he gasped and chuckled in disbelief.
“Please stop moving, give me a second.”
“Mm, my good boy, mine,” teasing Hanbin, giving him soft kisses that aren’t longer than innocent pecks, giggling when he shakily pulls you off his lap and back into the passenger seat. The mixture of your two’s cum in you and painting your thighs, Hanbin swears as he shakes off his jacket. He tells you to place it under your ass so the seats don't stain, slipping your panties back up your legs and over your ass, the dress surely inside out and backwards but you didn’t care, knowing Hanbin was going to be taking it off the moment he had you back in his bedroom. You watch Hanbin as he dresses his lower half then fishing for the car keys that had fallen onto the floor at some point. Starting the car and rolling the back windows just a crack to air out the car, Hanbin gives you one last kiss before pulling out of the clearing and back onto the road. Interlocking fingers, smiling happily as his thumb brushed the back of your hand sweetly, you nod off unintentionally. Arriving back to the dorms, Hanbin shakes you awake laughing as you shoot to sit straight up apologizing for falling asleep.
“No need to apologize, beautiful, there’s no one around but you might want to throw these on real quick before we head in.” Hanbin hands you a pair of men’s sweats, a black cap, and a mask that would cover your face. Pulling the sweats over the lower part of your dress and slipping on a random pair of slides, you fix your hair so the bun hides perfectly under your hat.
“Should I wear your jacket? I forgot a different shirt.” You asked, ready slipping on the big jacket that hid your curves. Hanbin nods, giving you one last look over before climbing out the car, having you get out yourself just in case anyone was around the dorms to take photos. He’d much rather them assume you were a member than attack you. Walking into the building where the dorms were, Hanbin waits for the elevator to close before letting out a sigh, giving you one of his gut wrenching smiles that brought butterflies to your insides.
“You look cute.” Hanbin teases, fixing your hat so it’s not lopsided and off centered.
“I’m sure I do,” you joked back, following Hanbin close behind as he guides you to the front door, pushing in the passcode and letting you slip inside first. Kicking off your slides and stripping off the mask and hat, your cheeks flush bright red as six heads turn towards the two of you. Bidding everyone goodnight you choose to ignore the glances and snickering, hearing Seungeon offer Jeonghyeon and Yunseo to come over to the other dorm to escape the love birds.
Which, Hanbin must’ve also caught because the moment he shut his bedroom door behind himself, he wasted absolutely zero time to pin you up against his bedroom door and initiate a round two.
…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.
hiii are you able to do anymore txt x plus sized/chubby reader imagines?? You write them so well :D
hi anon!
i’d absolutely LOVE to write more plus sized / cubby reader fics for txt. they’re genuinely something i enjoy making so if you’d ever like to put in a personal request, please feel free to!
preview: seonghwa loves to collect pretty things. when he saw you, he knew he needed to add you to his collection.
tags/warnings: fem reader, (leather) gloved fingering, pussy slapping, begging, gun + knife play, edging, overstimulation, s&m, dacryphilia, degrading, praise, pet names (doll, princess, baby, angel), hair pulling, possessiveness, marking, choking, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie
trigger warnings: kidnapping, noncon, beginning stages of stockholm syndrome, guns and knives ofc
wc: 2.7k
song recs for this fic: criminal by britney spears
a/n: please read the tags and triggers very carefully!!!
seonghwa sat comfortably in his black mercedes benz, watching the people around him. his dark tinted windows gave no one any awareness of his presence. many people gawked at his car, amazed to see something so expensive on this side of the city. “anything catching your eye, boss?” his driver asked, breaking the thick silence. seonghwa shakes his head, staring into the rearview mirror. “no, but we’ll give it another couple of minutes.” he returned his eyesight to scan the crowd.
the leather seats of his car were comfortable enough to give him the relaxation he needed while scoping out the crowds of people. spending so much time indoors had caused him to forget just how many people live in seoul. he leaned back against the headrest, wishing that endeavours like these didn’t take so long. he crosses his arms, his leather gloved hands resting on his biceps.
he spotted plenty of objectively attractive people, some he might’ve dared to test on any other occasion. but he knew what he wanted. finally, through the crowd, he spots you. you glow within the crowd like the sun in the sky. “there.” the man in the passenger seat is quick to jump out, standing in your way. you trip over yourself a bit, startled by the sudden presence in front of you. “sorry ma’am, do you have a minute?” he asks, your eyebrows furrowing. seonghwa climbs out of the car and appears behind his bodyguard. “no, i don’t,” you respond, quick to dodge both men, staring down at your phone. seonghwa watches you speed walk away, crossing his arms over his chest. your thoughtless resistance attracted a dark part of him. “that’s the one. follow her.”
both men are quick to pile back into the expensive car and follow your direction. they trail behind you, watching you as you walk into your apartment building. they sit in the parking lot for longer than most people would consider appropriate. seonghwa checks his watch. he has a meeting soon, he cannot sit here for much longer. “contact hongjoong and have him send some men here to get her for me.” his order is stern and his driver nods. slowly, they pull away from the parking lot and drive back to the mansion where the mafia resides.
_______________________________________________
a few days later, seonghwa is greeted by a knock on his office door. the doors open to reveal two lower members of the family, wooyoung and san. “what can i do for you, gentlemen?” he asks, tapping on the papers on his desk to indicate that he’s busy. the two men stand in front of him timidly, keeping their heads lowered. “she’s here,” san says. seonghwa’s eyebrow raises, his tapping coming to an almost immediate halt. he rises from his chair, the two bodyguards in the room immediately tense up. “where is she?” wooyoung visibly gulps, adjusting on his feet. “the safe house, as you requested. she was very combative. yeosang is with the doctor right now, dealing with the scratches she gave him.” seonghwa chuckles, imagining the image of a girl your size doing damage to a man built like yeosang.
seonghwa nods, waving the two men off. they’re quick to scurry away from the intimidating leader. he digs around in his drawer, pulling out his pistol. he’s quick to shove it into his gun holster before moving his coat back to cover it. he adjusts the holster on his other thigh, housing an intimidating looking knife. “let’s go.” seonghwa is quick to strut out of the room, heading directly for his car. he climbs into the backseat, his guards moving swiftly so as to not anger him. sitting in the backseat, he finds himself filled with an unusual sense of nervousness and excitement.
the usual procedure for entering the safe house would require seonghwa to enter with the protection of his bodyguards. something was gnawing at him and telling him to go in alone. “stay in the car. if i don’t come back out in 10 minutes, you may leave.” with that, he climbs out of the car. he punches in the short number code, listening to it beep quietly to signal the locking mechanism letting him in. he pushes the door open and the air is thick with tension. he doesn’t know where they put you or if you’re even restrained. however, based on the damage to yeosang, he figures it’s probably a safe bet that you are restrained.
the door clicks behind him and he decides to kick off his combat boots. it doesn’t take much effort to find you considering your constant, slightly muffled screams for someone to help you. seonghwa finds you restrained on a dining room chair, your hands tied behind you and your ankles tied to the legs of the chair. you flinch when he finally enters your line of sight. you’re gagged with what looks like a cloth or a bandana. your eyes widen with a look of familiarity.
seonghwa leans against the wall, tilting his head to the side. “hi, angel. remember me?” you turn your head away, avoiding his domineering gaze. a rush of frustration fills his veins, running his tongue over his teeth. he walks into your line of sight again, this time he flashes his gun at you. “you wanna try that again? remember me?” your eyes widen and you nod vigorously. a smile spreads over his face as he re-conceals his weapon.
“do you know why you’re here?” he asks, leaning against the wall as if he had all the time in the world. you shake your head, desperately trying not to drool around your makeshift gag. seonghwa clicks his tongue, as if he’s disappointed in your cluelessness. “you’re here because you disrespected me. bad girls don’t get to just walk away from people like me.” he stares at you through his eyebrows, his anger showing in his face. you can’t help the adrenaline rush you get that prompts you to start struggling against your restraints.
seonghwa is quick to close the space between you, grabbing you by the chin and staring into your eyes. “stop fucking struggling.” your body freezes like a deer in headlights, all of your movements stopping just as soon as they started. “do you even know who i am?” the empty look in your eyes gives him the answer he needs. it shocks him a little. someone who doesn’t know the most infamous person in the entire country. “have you ever heard of park seonghwa?” a strange glint passes over your eyes before you nod. he smirks before gesturing to himself. “you’re looking at him.” he pauses. “ honestly, you should be flattered that you’re here. i don’t pick just anyone to test like this.”
you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “mmf- test?” you do your best to speak around your mouth covering and seonghwa chuckles before re-composing himself. “well, i have to see if i can break you. did you really think a pretty girl like you was going to get abducted like this and not get fucked?” a new rush of horror overcomes you and it lights a sinister flame within seonghwa. he can tell how anxious you are based on how the rhythm of your breathing immediately changes. he likes the way you react to his words. “oh princess, you’re in for a real treat.”
everything in you is telling you to beg for your life. scream, cry and hope a hardened criminal like him has at least a little bit of empathy left in him. you know these efforts are futile, however. seonghwa sheds his coat and places it on the table next to you. his slim figure in his attractive suit have you wanting to drool. you stop yourself when your eyes meet his pistol once again. you gulp, watching as he adjusts his gloves. “i think it’s best i start your test now.” before you can react, he’s untying your legs and arms, forcing you to stand. you whine, your legs feeling numb from sitting for so long. he shoves you onto the couch in the living room. he watches you scramble away, not even moving to stop you. he knows there’s no escape.
“are you done?” he asks, his tone that of an exhausted father dealing with his bratty toddler. he crosses the room, throwing you over the armrest of the couch. he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them both down with one quick tug. “god, you’re fucking dripping. what a whore. you like this, don’t you?” you shake your head, kicking your feet as if to try and keep him away. “get off m-me!.” your speech is muffled from the gag. he shoves your legs apart and slots himself between them. seonghwa lands a harsh slap to your ass, causing you to yelp. “i said, are you fucking done?” you twist to look him in the face and scowl. you pull your gag off your face before speaking. “fuck you.”
seonghwa leans over you and presses your face into the couch with one hand, while he uses the other to shove two gloved fingers into your cunt. you cry out, your sound muffled by the cushion “whores don’t speak like that to their owners, do they?” his fingers move quickly inside you, thrusting in and out. the leather rubbing against your walls adds to the already euphoric feeling. you grip the couch cushion so hard your knuckles turn white. seonghwa shoves another finger into you, curling them to find your g-spot. he leans over you further to whisper in your ear, his fingers still working an orgasm out of you. he pulls your head up by your hair to get better access to your ear. “if i didn’t know any better, i would say this is turning you on. i can just feel the way you’re clenching.”
finally, you manage to kick him in the knee, sending him stumbling back. you gasp for air, your lungs desperate for oxygen. you don’t even have time to reap the benefits of getting him off you before he returns. this time, you feel something cold press against the skin of your ass. you hear the click of seonghwa cocking his gun. your whole body tenses, sucking in a sharp breath of air. “yeah, i bet now you wanna fucking behave.” he slides the barrel of the gun over your slit, collecting your slick. “p-please, don’t.” he sighs and shoves your face back down into the couch. “don’t speak unless spoken to.” he shoves the gun into your hole, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine. you know better than to fight back now.
he slides it in and out slowly, cherishing the way you suck it in with ease. the fear coursing through your veins heightens the pleasure. your whining and squealing at every drag inside you. seonghwa groans at the sight of you at his complete disposal, his gun inside you keeping you obedient. your legs begin to shake as you near your high, a feeling you regret. “ple-ah please,” you mumble into the couch.
“please what, baby?” you cry silently into the cushion, your shoulders shaking. your body reacts against your will, your orgasm barreling towards you. “c-cumming.” seonghwa says nothing as your orgasm crashes into you, your body trembling uncontrollably. as you finish, seonghwa shoves his gun into as far as it will go, making sure you can feel him brush his finger over the trigger. “this is the one time i’m gonna be nice to you. next time you cum without permission, i’m pulling the trigger.” he pulls his pistol all the way out of you, licking the remnants of your release off the gun.
he moves away from you slightly to pull his pants and boxers down mid-thigh. “stop it, p-please. i don’t want this.” seonghwa shakes his head before shrugging. “i don’t care what you want.” he keeps you bent over the couch, watching as your nerves continue to twinge. your cunt is red and swollen from use, yet still visibly slick. he drags his tip over your folds, gathering your wetness. you claw at the couch to try and crawl away, but he’s quick to pull you back. “don’t forget who has the gun, princess. one quick movement and you could be dead on this couch. do you want that?” you shake your head, fear making you shiver.
“didn’t think so.” with that, he shoves into you. his tip jabs at your cervix, the sudden stretch having you gasping for air. seonghwa’s jaw falls slack, watching the way his cock disappear into you. he fans his hands over your ass, grabbing and squishing your plush flesh. a hard slap rings through the room and you whimper, digging your teeth into your bottom lip.
seonghwa’s hips begin moving. he’s nicer to you than he expected you to be. that doesn’t last, however. his thrusts pick up speed when you start wiggling under him, your own body betraying you in its desperation for pleasure. “silly girl, can’t even resist her captor's cock. just admit how much you like it, baby.” you shake your head, breathing so hard it’s making you dizzy. your brain is turning to mush and you’re losing your ability to fight back. not that you really want to anymore. he’s making you feel so good, why would you want to run?
seonghwa manhandles you, flipping you over and moving you so your ass is hanging off the couch cushions. he slots himself back between your legs in one quick motion. he shoves in to the hilt, snapping his hips against yours so hard you might bruise. he wraps his arms around your waist to snap into you harder and your eyes roll back. the room fills with noisy skin slapping sounds and the wet noises leaving your core. “fuck, you feel so good. you clench so pretty around my cock, baby.”
he pulls his knife out of its holster, dragging it over your skin without pressing down. “i’m claiming you as mine. you will never know another man’s touch.” he adjusts his grip on the knife, guiding it down to your hip. seonghwa presses the blade into your skin, dragging it to carve an ‘s’ into your flesh. the stinging pain sends a new course of pleasure through you, your core sucking him in harder. “i knew you were dirty, but not this dirty. you like that, doll? you like when the man who kidnapped you carves his initials into your body?” you nod, your body twitching.
seonghwa traces a few more lines into your skin with his knife before putting it down on the table behind him. he gathers your blood on his fingers and brings them to his mouth. “c-cumming,” you sputter. before you can say anything else, his gun is pressed to your temple. he shakes his head at you, clicking his tongue. his incessant thrusts into you are not helping you fight off your orgasm. “what did i say?” tears spill from your eyes, your eyeliner running down your face. you breathe so hard it hurts your chest.
“please, please, need to cum. can i cum?” you plead. you hiccup, your bottom lip quivering. he pouts at you, pressing the gun against your head harder. his hips stutter and it becomes obvious that he’s been fighting his own orgasm. “cum for me, princess.” your eyes roll back and your back arches against him, his face pressing into your chest. you clench and unclench, hearing him let out a low moan. “that’s it, baby. milk my fucking cock. it’s all yours. yeah, it’s yours.”
finally, your body relaxes. you had anticipated feeling a new rush of fear once the pleasure left you. but, you found yourself seeking his comfort. he holds you gently, discarding his weapons. “you passed the test, doll. i broke your brain and now you’re mine. i’ll keep you safe.” swiftly, he puts his clothes back on properly. he lifts you, carrying you out of the house despite your obvious lack of clothing. san and wooyoung stand outside the door patiently, waiting for instruction. “clean the house, make it spotless. also, i need one of you to grab my gun and my knife. i don’t wanna re-scare my baby right now.”
with that, you’re carried into the very car that had followed you just a few days ago. except this time, seonghwa got what he wanted.
origamiaround
prguitarman
dededos
janainaart
romaincrisis
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
