-A man who yearns is a man who earns- PART 4
!!! sub!Hyunjin x dom!reader !!!
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Contains: shameless filth, freaks falling in love with each other's freakiness, pent-up illustrator/artist unistudent!hyunjin who is kinda shy/bit of a loser and a pervert and equally as pent up TA!reader
Names used, positions and kinks: baby(for him), ma'am(for her), bratty/needy msub, gets turned on when ur angry, mastubating to your voice on call, stalker-ish behavior, desprate, on his knees, begging, p eating, missionary, dirty talk, eats it again after you cum, humps the couch
Wc: 7,2k
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"Just a little," he said, his voice too sweet to have any appropriate intentions behind it.
"I'm not letting you eat my pussy again."
"I- I'll only clean you up, ma'am, please," he said softly, giving you the most lethal puppy eyes on Earth.
You sighed. "I have work to do, stuff to get done."
Hyunjin looked down. You couldn't make this shit up, he looked like a kicked pup. He knew he overstayed his visit(by multiple hours). But still his brain was working very intensely to think of something: to ask, to offer, to say, just so he could keep your attention so you'd keep him around.
But he knew he had assignments to get done(two from Visual Culture you’d given that he had to send in by Monday night, actually), you did too, most likely. You also had stuff to grade and review, he assumed.
"I think I should get going," he said after a while. It wasn't like he wasn't going to see you again.
He was going to - on Monday - though you weren't going to see him. Not because you didn't pay attention to the students you taught, but because in the lecture hall, he was actively avoiding you. He sat hunched over, in the back, didn't raise his hand(not that he usually did), all in the name of you not seeing him in your class. Because then you'd know. And, yes, it wasn't like you two were doing anything bad, per se. But he knew you, he was listening to you speak for hours a week, for fucks sake.
Very early on, you had spoken during one of your first lectures about what professionalism and ethics in the workplace meant for you. You had spoken about it because of a girl who boldly invited you for coffee with her friends. You weren't rude or dismissive, but you were stern. Stern enough that Hyunjin knew if you had been aware that you lectured him, you wouldn't have been flirty with him at the bar in any compasity, let alone sleep with him. Let alone twice ...ok, three times.
But when he said that, you simply nodded, "Alright," you let out, not sounding even a bit bummed about it. Then you paused as your eyes followed him as he went to collect his things. "You can, ya know, text me..."
He turned to you, slightly bent over as he was zipping up his jeans and looked at you through the messy strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes and gave you a smile. So cute, you thought. He opened his mouth to say that he, in fact, will 100% be doing that, especially after you gave him the go-ahead just now. But before he could, you said, "You're pretty, sweet boy." If he didn't know you'd reject the idea, he would have taken his pants off right then and there. And I mean, nobody could blame you (jesus, look at him), but in his head, he didn't know what provoked you to say that.
He took a step closer to the bed, then bent down and crawled to you until he reached your comfortably snuggled figure. He didn't say anything, just tilted his head and pressed his soft lips to yours. Your lips moved against his slowly. No one deepened the kiss; the plush flesh connecting you only moved like gentle waves in the ocean. He knew what he wanted to tell you; it was a bit risky considering you told him to keep the relationship-type stuff out of this, but considering what you just told him and the level of intimacy the kiss held, he decided to go for it. He pulled away, his face inches from yours. "Pretty for you. Only you."
And it was true. He didn't know if he'd said anything else in his life that he was this sure of the truth. He couldn't see himself with another woman since the first time you spoke to him. He couldn't do simple tasks in his daily life without thinking: hmm, I'm getting frozen yogurt right now, would she like frozen yogurt?
Oh, I wonder what her favourite horror movie is? Does she like horror?
I wonder if she has any allergies or food preferences...
Yeah. He knew he was a goner and that was his little way of saying that, at least for now.
His relief when you gave him a pleased smile was unimaginable. You two sat there, soft smiles, blushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips. "Go," you finally shoved him playfully. He stood back up, still his eyes on you, smiling even wider now.
By the time he left, it was dark outside. You had just enough time left to take a shower, to get the smell of sex and him off you, do some of your own coursework, make a quick bite to eat and go to sleep.
You wondered if he would text you, whether he'd agreed to the arrangement because he couldn't say no or because he actually wanted to continue doing this. You still hadn't figured him out, more so, you hadn't learned how to trust him yet.
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Oh, he wanted to. He took two steps into his room and wanted to hear your voice.
He used to dream of what it would be like to have a dom. That it would light a fire in him that would make him feral. Used to think about the wild sex and all that. But the reality of it was much deeper than that. Yeah, he got hard, yeah, the sex was great, fantastic even, but it was the feeling of trust and vulnerability that allowed him to go into submission and surrender. And that was precisely it. He knew that those were the reasons the energy between you felt so intense and intimate. Sometimes he wondered if there was something wrong with him that needed all that to feel truly desired and, in turn, feel true desire.
But oh well, fine shyt is fine shyt, he thought, ruffling his own hair as if to shoo away any profound thoughts that defined his overthinking tendencies.
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He lasted exactly a day before texting you.
When he woke up the next day, he locked in and went through most of his chores and a few assignments - one of which was for the class you were a TA for. By the time the afternoon came, his eyes were darting to his phone like it was going to pop up and give him an update on you itself. He knew he should leave you alone for a bit, and admittedly, he didn't want to seem too desperate. So by 4 pm, he left his apartment with a short bye to his flatmate and went for a run.
Yes, he did pass your apartment building, okay? Shut up.
And no, he didn't even see you since you didn't live anywhere near the first floor.
And he knew that. He knew that before he took the turn to your place and abandoned his usual route.
After doing some stretches and other exercises in the park to get his blood flow going and to get you off his mind, he got home at about 6 pm.
He threw his phone on the bed with excessive force, now frustrated with himself that he was so needy. He walked into the shower, turned it on and closed his eyes, enjoying the hot water as it trickled on him.
He started thinking about his neediness. Probably because of the sex. Can't be anything else. I can't be that easy god damn it. It's probably normal. Yeah, it's normal. I haven't had a proper dom like ever, so it's probably just that, yeah. It's just the way she's in bed, that's all. It's the way she lays her hands on me with no shame, ya know, that's sexy. The way she speaks when she's serious, when she's teasing me, when she cooes and tilts her head. All that? I mean, I'd say it's pretty normal to not be able to stop thinking ab-
He looked down. Thinking about you in bed? That was his mistake. He was hard.
No, no, no, I'm not gonna do that. I have more self-restraint than that. I'm not an animal.
He put 100% of his willpower into ignoring his erection and went on with his shower. And to give him credit, he did in fact keep his hands to himself. Mainly, it was the memories of what the few days after you slept together for the first time were like that motivated him.
Most of his days looked like this:
Get home, shower, jerk off in the shower. Late at night? Jerk off in bed. He'd get home from lectures to an empty apartment, and he'd jerk off on the couch. I mean it was bad, and it went on for days. He was going crazy; no wonder he had to stalk, no, bump into you accidentally.
He had to do better this time. So when he got out of the shower, he took a deep breath and, like any averagely attached man, he grabbed his phone and decided that he could, in fact, play it cool. Why couldn't he? Of course, he could, like any other guy, he could text his casual hook-up to see what she was doing. That's fine.
What he didn't know was that in your apartment, you were having the most silent crash out of the century. The actual professor for Visual Culture was in a pissy mood again and was being passive-aggressive over email, your neighbours were fighting again, your internet was lagging for god knows what reason, you were behind on schedule because of the half a day you spent fucking that pretty boy you met at the bar. And on top of that, you didn't have running water at the moment because of some pipe problem you had neglected to fix earlier. It was all a nightmare of overstimulation and not the sexy kind.
You were tapping your foot, typing away at your laptop on your small dining table, a stale bowl of hurriedly assembled yogurt with banana staring at you from the side. You were having the most tiresome writer's block on an essay you had to submit in less than a day. You had silenced your phone since deciding that if the world was ending and someone tried to call you, you'd rather be the first one to go in the apocalypse, considering how your day's been going.
Meanwhile, him…
He sat down on his bed, leaned on his pillow and opened your empty chat. He typed:
Hey! How you're do|
Scratch that.
Hello! I was wondering if yo|
Hell no. Not an email. Then he decided to mess around.
Ma'am please fuck the shit outta me|
He giggled at himself before going back and deleting that.
Then he decided to actually put some brain power into texting you. You hadn't texted before, so he low-key had to introduce himself kinda.
Hey, it's Hyunjin
I hope you're doing good :)
You free tomorrow?
He didn't think you'd respond or at least as quickly as you did. But little did he know you had just gotten off the phone with the guy that's supposed to come look at your sink and he had just told you that he couldn't come that day, and you'd have to just make do with a visit from him tomorrow. So you were stressed out and pissed to say the least. A minute later Hyunjin's phone got a notification. He leaped to open the messages
Hey
And no, not really
Maybe later
His shoulders slumped. Maybe a day later was in fact too soon to text you. He didn't know what to do with himself now. He wasn't heartbroken or anything, just sitting pouting on his bed because he wasn't getting attention from you. He ruffled his hair and decided to push a bit.
We could meet up later this week?
If you're not too busy
You groaned. He was dancing on the thin line between polite and pushy, and you hated that. Not to mention he picked the worst moment to be insistent with you.
Hyunjin, I'll text you when I want you
That's it.
Oh god, okay, he thought you were down or upset about something, but you were just straight up angry. You were angry. Oh god.
Like previously mentioned, your anger never had the appropriate/expected effect on him. He didn't know how to respond. His mind was getting cloudier by the second because his brain was making the mistake of imagining your tone and voice saying what you had just texted him.
His hands started getting fidgety. The hardness of his that never really went away was twitching again desperately. At that point, he should have probably been concerned about himself and how much sex drive he had, but he couldn't be asked. He was about to thrash his head against the wall, thinking about how to respond.
…
Then he said ’’fuck it’’ and called you.
You responded on the first ring, swiping with excessive force, ready to end the conversation as quickly as possible. "Yes?" Your stern voice was heard abruptly. "Hey..." Hyunjin said softly, but with not as much caution as you'd expect. There was a moment of silence. "How-how are you do-?" He said awkwardly, not really knowing where to take the conversation.
"I'm busy at the moment, Hyunjin."
Fuck. Your voice was so sharp, it left no space for any argument or doubt. Your words always registered in his brain in the most pleasurable way. "Yes, I know, I'm so-" he started with a heavy breath. "Yet you called me?" The call went silent except for his breathing deepening. "Y-yeah," breathy but steady, like he was sure in his answer but didn't know how to suppress what his body was doing to him.
At that point, as angry as you were, the sudden, unexplainable, almost sporadic breathing of his had you questioning.
"You good?" You asked. Just not very elegantly.
Your unamused voice shot a shiver up his spine. "Yeah, ye- I'm okay, all good,"
"Ok? I'm gonna hang up now. I got shit to do."
Within seconds, his brain had to choose between being a little pushy, probably pissing you off further just to hear your voice more or agreeing with you and letting you be, albeit awkwardly.
Maybe he could be a little indulgent(for like the 100th time when it came to your attention).
"Wait-"
"What." Oh god
"Y- like, what are you busy with?"
"None of your business, I told you I'd text you when I want to meet up, didn't I?"
"You did, ye-"
"Then what the fuck are you doing, Hyujin?"
The front muscle of his thigh twitched while he was sitting down, still in his towel. His hair was still slightly damp, his fingers were too from all the times he had run them through his hair.
"Ju-" he sighed. Or you thought he did. If you had been in the room with him, you'd have identified his breathy whine.
"You're wasting my time right now." Your voice cut through the line.
He shifted his place; his breathing was getting deeper with each sentence you said. The loose towel combined with his hard cock meant that its rough fibres were rubbing exactly over his tip. The muscles on his lower stomach tighten.
"I know, ma'am." He didn't sound defeated and didn't seem like he was getting offended by your sharp tone. And that's what pissed you off even more.
"Don't give me no "ma'am", Hyunjin. I'm fucking stressed. Now is not the time."
You were fed up. Didn't know if he was socially inept or just an idiot.
"Y-yeah, no, I-" he had stabilized himself with his hand holding him up behind his back and the other holding the phone to his cheeks as his hips made stuttering motions to buck up into the fabric of the towel. "Tell me..." he bit his lips, trying to suppress his whimpers, letting out only a sharp breath out his nose as he looked up at the ceiling, begging that you'd just appear in front of him. "...tell me what's got you s-so stressed, just wanna hear you." his voice was soft like velvet as he continued with the slight motions.
The grinding of his, in truth, brought so little actual friction, but somehow that made it better. The light and short contacts with the fabric made arousal burn beep inside of him and made everything so much more exciting.
"Tell you? You can't do anything about it, Hyunjin." You were surprised by his ask, wondering what had gotten into him.
His knees literally softened when he heard you say his name in that voice. Good thing he was sitting down, or we would have collapsed.
"Yeah, I'm useless-" he pulled the phone quickly away from himself as he felt like he couldn't hold it in and choked up on his own whines. His face turned beet red, wondering if you'd heard, wondering if you had identified that sound, kind of hoping you had.
You paused. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Fuck. You said it with zero remorse.
All you heard was a beep breath, but on the other side, he was a mess. He had uncovered his lower half, squeezing his eyes shut at the view of his precum having been smeared over his cock. He wrapped his fist around the tip and held it in place, fucking up into it. "I-I don't know, just wanna hear you..." he was sure that was too obviously lewd, so he added not very smoothly, "so you can get off- get it off your chest."
"I'm hanging up."
"N-no, please, just," he couldn't finish the sentence.
You changed your mind and decided to remark, "I thought you weren't shy around me anymore, why are you stuttering all of a sudden again?" Your voice was still sharp, still a direct hit to his groin. His hips sped up.
"I'm not s-sure, it's been a while," he panicked and said.
Boy, please. You thought rolling your eyes. You weren't suspecting him of what he was doing, not because you didn't think he was "subby" enough, but it never crossed your mind that he'd be that perverted and shameless.
"It's been a day, so fuck's sake. I'm gonna hang up and text you when I want to meet up. Understood?" You hurried to end the conversation, noticing the screen of your laptop had long gone black.
He was getting close, really close. He, again, decided to be a bit bratty for his own pleasure. "You sure you're not free tomorrow, hm?" You thought the hum at the end was cockyness. It was, in fact, a moan he hushed at the last second.
"Yes, I'm fucking sure, don't make me repeat myself, Hyunjin."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. His balls tightened.
"Mhm, yes, ma'am." Even though you couldn't see him, he was nodding vigorously.
Beep.
You ended the call without another word. That fucking beep though. That beep was the cue for him to paint his fingers white.
You actually did hang up on him. Like it was nothing. And there wasn’t a thing hotter than that single action for him at that moment.
When you did, he immediately dropped his phone onto the mattress and held himself up so he could thrust harder. He threw his head back, scrunched his nose and let out a long-held whimper as ropes of cum started oozing out of his tip. Some got on his thighs, some on the floor, can't forget the towel being stained, but most of it went on his hand, making it sticky and filthy.
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The next day, he was running. Not because he was going to be late for class, but because he was going to be late for the train. His commute to university was around 20 minutes; it was 8:20, and he was speeding so as not to miss his 8:30 train. Oh, yes, he had taken avoiding you very seriously. So much so that he’d decided to arrive in the lecture hall first to take up his spot in the far back and watch as the entire auditorium gets filled to the brim, and ultimately, you walk in just on time.
He arrived at the station at the last minute and flung himself into the train, breathing forgotten somewhere along the way.
He finally took a seat, breathing heavily and almost laughing at his own ridiculousness.
Once head settle, scrolled on his phone for a good 30 minutes, he lifted his head to find the entire place filled. Then you walked in. Oh, what a marvel that was for him.
Well, it was every Monday. But especially today. Your blazer wasn’t perfectly cuffed, your hair was a bit different than usual, your shoulders were tighter, and for the cherry on top, you walked in, slammed your book on the desk and took a deep breath. Oh, you were still seething from everything that you had to tolerate over the past 24 hours.
Hyunjin pressed his lips into a thin line, trying not to smile too widely. It wasn’t that he enjoyed your being frustrated; he just wanted to show you he’d be the best at taking care of that frustration. That he should be the one to take care of that frustration.
Plus, you looked so good. So fucking good; with your furrowed eyebrows, sharp eyes and deep sighs.
He couldn’t let you walk around so pent up with anger. Of course, a good sub wouldn’t let his dom keep sizzling with frustration for so long. He had to do something, didn’t care how busy you were, it’d be for your own good after all.
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“And that will be all for today. I look forward to receiving the last of your assignments by midnight tonight.”
Everyone started packing up and slowly leaving the big auditorium. Hyunjin did too. As much as he wanted to talk to you, ask you questions about the material you were passionate about, he knew now wasn't the time to reveal who he was.
So he went out and off campus to a café he knew you went to for a sweet treat after a long lecture. He got a latte and sat down by the window to keep watch on when you'd arrive.
20 minutes later, you walk in with you bang hiked up onto your shoulders, your hips a bit stiff, and your eyes heavy. You entered without looking around the café, just straight to the register to order. He smiled as his eyes followed you. You grabbed the chocolate chip cookie you ordered along with your steaming hot espresso and turned to find a quiet corner to sit in.
The moment you turned around, your eyes met his. Again, that persistent unwavering gaze. But seeing as there weren't many small tables available and as much as you weren't in a good mood, especially remembering your imbecilic conversation over the phone with him, you walked towards him and hung the strap of your bag on the chair across from him. No greeting, no nothing.
“Why are you here?”
Your voice was still cold.
“Little coffee break. Funny running into you here.”
You didn't answer, just took a bite of your chocolate chip.
“Do you study at this university?”
He didn't want to lie in any compasity.
“Yeah,” but still he immediately deflected, “you have been upset since yesterday.”
No confrontation with hostility, but gently nudging the topic.
“Yeah, and your phone call didn't help.”
“Yeah, I know, I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me.”
Yeah, he wasn't all that sorry. The last about not knowing what got into him was mostly true, though. You nodded quietly, chewing on your cookie and sipping on your drink.
“I know you told me I couldn't, but I think there are ways I can help you…” He said, switching back to his more shy demeanour. You sighed, “If you're horny, I'm making you hump my dining table.”
He just blinked and blushed, liking the idea more than he could admit. “N-no, it's not- it's not gonna be about me. Just you,” he took a deep breath, “all about you, ya know, just relax your nerves in a way…”
“Right, okay, well, I appreciate it, but in any case, I'm too tired to do any kinky stuff today,” you shrugged, crumbling the little paper bag the cookie came in. His eyes followed the movements of your hands before looking back up into your eyes, “You don't have to do anything, I can take care of you,” he said softly with a gentle smile, “I don't sub.” You paused your movements and said sternly. “No, that's not what I meant, ma'am, I'll still be your sub and…” he slowed, seemingly remembering you're in a public place even if you were talking quietly, ”I'll do the work…doesn't mean I won't be your sub.”
You stayed silent, just staring at him for a second, contemplating with your brows furrowed. His warm hand reached over and held yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. He tilted his head down slightly, and his eyes looked up at you. Again with the puppy tricks. “Promise, I'll make you feel so relaxed, draw all that pent-up anger out of you, ma'am,” voice soft, gentle, yet still deep and seemingly steadying.
You looked at him, then at his hand on top of yours, then back up at him.
You pulled your hand away, the corners of his mouth turning down ever so minutely.
“I'll think about it,” you said as you stood up from your chair, grabbing your bag and jacket, “gotta go.”
He nodded his head ever so obediently and waved at you with a little “Bye,” as his eyes followed your form out the door.
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You spent the rest of your day working relentlessly to catch up on your chores and coursework. Only because you had a new motivation that had taken root in your head. You'd given yourself the ultimate of “Finish with your work, then you can fuck Pretty boy.”
Huynjin got a text from you at 11 pm the same night.
Hey
Im free it you wanna come over
Exactly two minds passed, and his text bubble showed up.
Omw
I’ll be there in 10
You were a little confused as to how he got there so fast, but around 8 minutes later, you got a knock on your door. You stood up, walking to the door with a smile. You’d lie if you said his eagerness wasn’t the most attractive thing about him… which, considering everything about him, meant a lot.
“Hi,” you said as you opened the door and immediately tilted your body to the side, expecting him to walk in, obviously. But he didn't - we went straight for you; he took a step forward and curled his hand around the side of your waist. Not to pull you in, but just to keep you in place as if you might slip away again. Your lips instantly connected while one of your hands was still holding the door. Good thing your neighbours weren't exactly going in and out of the building at this hour of the night.
You felt his warm palm slide from the bottom of your sternum between your breasts to your clavicle. You felt his fingers glide across the length of it - the gesture so intimate and tender it made your eyebrows jump up slightly, beyond grateful that you’d taken him up on his generous offer.
You hummed into his mouth, the sound making the corners of his mouth turn up into the kiss in satisfaction at pleasing you. His hand then stayed cupping the side of your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down and towards the couch.
“Promised, I’d take care of you, ma’am, I promised” is the first thing he says. He hurriedly took off his jacket while you were already pushing it off him. “You better,” you said with a small smile, then you dove in again to taste his lips, “especially with that phone call that got on my nerves last night,” you said between kisses.
He nodded vigorously into the kiss, agreeing with you. “Mhmm, yea- gonna make it up to you, ma’am, make you feel s’good.”
One thing about Hyunjin he gets into subspace expeditiously.
You smirked, indulging in his neediness a little, “Gonna work hard to please your dom, right, baby?” He nodded repeatedly again, as the back of your legs hit the couch, and his hands started roaming over your body, trying to get those pesky clothes off you. His eagerness almost made you let out a laugh, “Gonna be a good sub, a proper one,” he said while unzipping your pants.
You tangle your fingers in his head and slowly press down. You nodded, “Such a good boy you are,” his knees softened immediately and crumbled until he was on his knees. He peeled your pants off your legs until they pooled around your ankles, then he gently tugged on them until you lifted your legs one by one so he could throw them onto the other side of the couch.
While on his knees, he started laying kisses on your thighs. Every one of his movements was so soft, so careful, your heart swelled at his demeanour.
His lips were still attached to your skin when he looked up to see you had closed your eyes, enjoying his lips and warm, big hands massaging your thighs. “Ma’am,” he started, but didn't continue as he waited for you to acknowledge his voice. “Yes, baby,” he smiled into his little indulgent kisses on your skin. “Wanna make you cum on my tongue, please.”
And who said romance is dead?
He was so beautifully attuned to the rhythm of your dynamic, the way he waited for your permission, the way he treated his desire as a gift intended solely for your pleasure.
"Then don't keep me waiting," you command, your voice dropping into a low, velvety purr.
He didn't need to be told twice. With a frantic, reverent haste, he finished stripping away the remaining barrier of your clothing, his movements a blur of desperate determination. As soon as your skin was bare to the air, he leaned in, his face burying itself in the warmth of your lap.
The sensation of his tongue, warm and wet, finding your clit sent a jolt of electricity straight to your spine. He worked with a singular, driving purpose, his mouth moulded to your shape as he licked and sucked with an intensity that left you breathless. His eyes occasionally darted up to catch your expression, searching for the slightest flicker of your pleasure to fuel his own insatiable drive to serve.
At first, he lapped early, his tongue flattened, making sure to spread all your juices around. A minute later, he started whining and mumbling something, “Ma’am, s-” then he pulled away a bit, “wanna have your legs spread, please, ma’am, wanna go deeper.”
The way he mumbled through the slick heat of your thighs was nothing short of endearing, a testament to how much he is already losing himself in the task. His request was a plea for more access, more intimacy, more of the overwhelming sensation that only he could provide. He wasn’t just satisfied with the surface; he wanted to be completely submerged in you.
You sat down, sinking onto the couch, your torso leaning back and your legs together. You reached forward, your fingers hooked under his chin to tilt his head back for a moment so you could look into those wide, pleading, hazy eyes. He looked wrecked already, his lips glistened, and his face flushed with the heat of your scent.
"Spread them for me, then," you commanded softly.
He obeyed instantly, his hands moved to your hips to pull your thighs wide, exposing your pussy to the cool air and his hungry gaze.
He settled back in, but this time, there was no lightness. He pressed his face firmly into your centre, his nose sliding against your entrance as he began to use his tongue with a much more aggressive and probing depth. He licked upward, catching the swell of your clit before plunging his tongue deep into your opening, mimicking the rhythmic thrust, the sound of his wet, heavy suction loud.
The sound he made was primal, a low, vibrating moan that started deep in his chest and spilled out of his mouth as he worked. As he slid two fingers inside you, he curled them upward to find the sensitive ridge of your G spot. The friction was pointed and deep. The combination of his rhythmic, deep tongue strokes and the internal pressure of his fingers created a sensory overload that made your hips arch involuntarily off the couch. He was humming and nipping at your skin from time to time.
Every time he pulled his fingers out, he followed the movement with a long, sweeping lick, ensuring no sensation was wasted. The wet sounds of his mouth against your skin became a frantic percussion to the heavy thudding of your heart. His chin and chest became slick with your arousal, but he didn’t care; he was entirely focused on the way your thighs trembled under his touch.
"Mmm, yes... like that," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair to hold him steady.
He responded by increasing the tempo, his fingers pumping inside you with a desperate, driving force while his tongue became a blur of motion. He was pushing you toward your orgasm, his own whimpers mingling with the wet sounds in the room.
The world narrowed down to the point of contact where his fingers and tongue meet your most sensitive nerves. As the tension in your abdomen coiled into a tight, unbearable knot, you felt the first tremors of the coming storm. Your breath hitched, caught in a throat tight with pleasure, and your spine curved like a bow as you arched your back, seeking to press yourself even harder against his relentless ministrations.
Hyunjin felt the shift in your body immediately. He sensed the sudden rigidity of your muscles and the way your hips began to stutter against his face. Instead of slowing, he doubled his efforts, his fingers curled more sharply inside you while his tongue applied a heavy, rhythmic pressure to your clit. He was driving you over the edge, his own breathing coming in ragged, desperate hitches as he watched your expression shatter.
Then, the knot was set loose. A violent, pulsing wave of ecstasy crashed through you, starting deep in your core and radiating outward until every nerve in your body is screaming. Your internal muscles clamped down hard on his hair in a series of involuntary spasms. You let out a long, broken cry, your head fell back as the orgasm took hold, leaving you trembling and completely undone in his hands.
He stayed there. Swallowing it all, groaning deeply, gathering every drop into his mouth, “Tastes so fucking good, oh my god.”
He didn't waste any time, though. He climbed over your body, facing your directly and taking tremendous amounts of pride in being able to get you to such a state; your eyes were clouded, your knuckles were white, and your collarbones were slightly glistening with sweat.
He didn't allow the moment of stillness to settle; he was driven by a frantic hunger that demanded he pleasure with every part of himself. He crawled up your body, his skin slick with your shared fluids, his chest brushing against yours as he settled between your thighs.
He loomed over you, his eyes dark and heavy with a desperate sort of worship, “Gonna fuck you s’good, ma’am, s’good, you’ll forget about everything”.
His breathing was a ragged staccato, and the heat radiating from his body was intense. He didn't wait for a formal command, though he looked to you for the silent nod of approval that told him he was allowed to claim this place - inside you.
As he angled his aching, swollen length to your entrance, he paused for a heartbeat, his forehead resting against yours. "Please, ma'am," he whispered, a breathless plea for the final act of his devotion.
You nodded.
Then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, he sank into you. The sensation was overwhelming, a fullness that stretched you out every time and filled the void left by your climax. He whimpered into the crook of your neck, his hips began a slow, punishingly deep rhythm that aimed solely to make you cum.
The rhythm he set was one of pure, unadulterated worship. Every thrust was deep and deliberate, a slow, heavy slide that aimed to bury him as far into your warmth as possible. He moved with the frantic, desperate energy of a man trying to merge his very soul with yours.
“T- ma’am, tell me I'm doing good, please,” he whined on top of you, his hot breath hitting your lips. His hands were everywhere, clutching your hips to pull you closer, then sliding up to glide over your waist, his touch alternating between soft guidance and trembling reverence.
You whined, your teeth clenched tightly, letting out little gasps here and there in the thrusts he went especially deep in with. Regardless, you nodded, “Mhmm, so good f’me, baby, you’re my best boy.”
“Fuck,” the intensity became too much for his composure to hold, and those words were the cherry on top. The pleasure was so sharp, so overwhelming, that it transcended mere physical sensation and became something spiritual. A soft, broken sob escaped him, and you felt the hot dampness of tears spilling onto your collarbone.
"It's... it's too much," he whimpered, his voice cracking as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He was crying openly now, his body shaking with the sheer force of the sensation. He was completely undone by you, his cries of "Ma'am, please" muffled against your skin as he thrusted harder, his movements becoming more erratic and desperate.
The shift in his technique was a mastery of submissive devotion. As he drove himself into you, he reached down with one hand, his fingers finding your clit with a precision that made your vision swim. He didn’t just stroke; he massaged the swollen nub with a heavy pressure that synced perfectly with the thudding of his hips.
Simultaneously, he grabbed your knees, hauling them up toward your chest with a strength born of pure desperation. The change in angle was profound. With your legs pulled high, your pelvis tilted upward, offering him a direct, unobstructed path to your very core.
He lunged forward, his hips slamming against yours as he buried himself to the hilt, his glans bruising against your cervix. “Oh fuck,” you moaned, your hands instinctively going to his chest.
The sensation was staggering. It felt as though he was reaching into the very centre of your being, filling every hollow space with his heat. A loud, guttural moan ripped from his throat, a sound of pure, unbridled ecstasy. He was weeping openly now, the tears streaming down his cheeks as he lost all sense of self.
He was nothing but a vessel for your pleasure, a man being dismantled by the sheer, beautiful intensity of being one with his master.
Your hand trailed up and curled around his throat. He immediately had to interrupt his moan by biting his lips, “Ma’am-” his front teeth pressed against his plush lips.
You don't squeeze hard enough to hurt, but the firm, authoritative pressure of your grip was enough to make his eyes blow wide, the irises nearly swallowed by his pupils. The slight restriction of his breath added a sharp, delicious edge to the sensation, turning the pleasure into something beautiful.
Hyunjin let out a choked, strangled sound halfway between a gasp and a sob as his head lolled back against the couch.
The sensation of being controlled, of having his very breath held in your hand while he was buried deep inside you, sent him to the edge of climax. His movements became even more frantic, his hips bucked in a desperate, uncoordinated rhythm as he tried to find the final inch of release.
"Ma'am... ma'am, please, cum- oh fuck, want you to cum around my cock, wanna feel this pussy squeeze me" he cried out, his voice a broken wreck of sound.
The tension in the room was electric, a coiled spring ready to snap. You felt the sudden, violent tightening of your own internal muscles, the familiar, heavy ache of an approaching climax. As you squeezed his throat just a fraction more, he let out a high-pitched keening.
"Please, ma'am... please cum for me," he begged, his voice a frantic, tear-streaked, broken whisper. He wasn't asking for himself; he was pleading for the honour of being the one to bring you to the edge. His fingers worked your clit with a desperate, focused intensity, his thumb circling and pressing until your world dissolved into a single, blinding point of white light.
With almost every thrust, he’d look down to watch his cock get swallowed by your cunt, and he didn't think he had ever seen something so fucking gorgeous.
The orgasm hit you like a physical blow, a violent surge that made you almost scream into the room. Your muscles clamped down on him in a tight grip, and you feel him shudder against you, his own body vibrating with the effort of holding back.
He was on the verge of his own release, his face contorted with the strain of his restraint, but he didn't give in. He stayed focused on you, riding out the waves of your pleasure with a selfless, agonising devotion.
As the last tremors faded and you gasped for air, Hyunjin abruptly pulled back. He slid out of you with a wet, heavy sound, his breath coming in ragged heaves. He didn’t linger; he immediately dropped to his knees on the floor, his head bowed in a posture of absolute submission.
He was a man possessed by a singular, desperate need to serve; his tongue darted out to lap up every stray drop of your release.
He cleaned you with a thorough, methodical devotion, his mouth warm and wet as he drank you in, ensuring not a single trace of your pleasure was wasted.
While his mouth worked, his body betrayed the agony of his own frustration. He couldn't stand still; he began to hump the edge of the couch, his hips grinding rhythmically against the fabric in a futile attempt to find some relief.
When he came, his sound was a guttural, pathetic whimper, a mixture of pure bliss and the torture of restraint. He was a mess of contradictions, his face buried in your heat while his body fought a losing battle against its own arousal. He was completely at your mercy, a shivering, needy creature who only wanted to be yours.
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Taglist: @ihateetoadmit @bookswillfindyouaway let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next part<3
