the music at the hwa’s house party boomed, your senses heightened as you took the blunt from mingi’s fingertips guiding it to your lips, sucking in a breath and holding for a second before blowing the smoke out. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned him through a small fit of coughs.
“… because you’re beautiful…” he whispered pulling you towards him, your legs easily falling over his thighs as you straddle him, giggles escaping your lips. “and you’re mine…” he trailed light kisses across your jaw as you took another hit from the blunt before setting it beside you. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his as you blew the smoke softly letting him breathe the smoke in, breathing you in. His fingertips slipping under the fabric of your shirt slightly grazing the skin at your sides as you closed the gap between the two of you.
Mingi tasted like a mixture of spearmint toothpaste and weed as his tongue swept across your bottom lip, the floaty feeling in your head caused you to giggle as you parted your lips, your hands cupping his warm cheeks that mirrored your own. Your thumb running over his bottom lip as he whined when you pulled away, hooded eyes lulling you back into him, resuming the kiss. You let your fingers tangle into his black hair, tugging ever so slightly. Mingi’s hands ran up your back, pulling you closer to him. You tasted like bubblegum and weed. He’d tell you later that it was addicting. His hands finding their way back to your hips rolling them against him as he fought your tongue with his own. It was sloppy, messy, and you loved every minute of it. “I think we should…” your voice trailed off as he nodded standing with you, his lips staying connected to yours as he made his way to his bedroom.
"For all intents and purposes, I feel real. I feel alive."
SUMMARY: You wanted a personal assistant model. To your horror, the one your parents got you shows up in a plexiglass case with the words "House Husband!" splattered across the front in gold glitter.
PAIRING: Android!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader
GENRE: Sci-fi/Fantasy, Romance, Angst
WORD COUNT: 17.2k
WARNINGS: Smut (18+, MDNI), Androids (robots that look and feel human), Human-Android Sex, Fingering, Shower Sex, Oral (f + m receiving), Vaginal, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up irl!!), Soft Dom Seonghwa, Cheating (not by mc/ml), Divorce (again, not mc/ml), Choking (violence, not sexual), Spanking, Creampie, Existential Crises, AMBIGUOUS/TWIST ENDING
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶
All you'd wanted was a personal assistant.
Your parents had bothered you for years now to invest in an android. Most households had at least one these days. Your younger sister and her new husband loved their butler model.
"You live alone in Myeongdong and work full-time with your online business or whatever it is you do!" your mother argued one day. "Surely you don't do all the chores, do you? When was the last time you mopped your kitchen, young lady?"
"Last week!" you fired back, knowing full well a year had come and gone since you'd done something so time consuming as mopping.
Your parents knew the truth. Your whole family did. You lived a decent life, had a decent freelance job, and partook in social activities regularly (albeit online). But your home life was... messy.
More than just dirty dishes piling up in the sink, clothes going unwashed, and bed going unmade, you just simply didn't make time for yourself.
You were... unhappy.
You had a good life on paper, but you'd be damned if you hadn't dreamed of doing something more. Being something more. Not just working a desk job and whittling away the hours in a cushy apartment.
Existential dread loomed in your thoughts frequently. You spent hours leaping into fantasy media, drowning the eerie discomfort which had settled into your bones sometime after college graduation.
The one thing that tethered you to reality had been work.
You didn't love your work, and your work certainly didn't love you, but it was a quiet constant. A regular pattern of scoping out new clients, making estimates, designing apps, getting paid. It was simple. Mundane. But enough to keep you busy and from becoming a hermit entirely.
So when your parents broke you down, finally offering to buy you an android for the Winter festival, you told them you'd consider a personal assistant.
It would speed up your output. That's what you told yourself.
You could have it filter through hundreds of potential clients in the time it would take you to do one. It could make price sheets and code app foundations in just a few mechanical heartbeats. You'd just have to oversee it, guide it in the direction you wanted your business to take, tweak its ideas for quality assurance, and you'd be making triple... no--quadruple what you made now.
You were honestly kind of excited. This could be your next big thing. The next milestone of your life. You could be on your way to becoming somebody.
So when you ripped back the packaging of the tall, coffin-like box, your your brows shot up into your hairline and your jaw dropped to the floor.
They hadn't. Your parent's just hadn't, there was no way they'd do this to you--
"Surprise, sweetie!" your father exclaimed, coming closer to put his hand on your shoulder. "You're finally going to have a clean home!"
The model they'd gotten you wasn't a personal assistant at all.
Instead, you were suddenly face to face with a unit labeled House Husband! in glittering gold letters.
Behind the clear packaging, an elegant android rested frozen on its display stand. You noted its face--the sweeping, broad planes of its cheekbones and its plush lips. The long, raven-black hair. It was much more... delicate than the sample assistant models you'd looked at online. You frowned as you read the label again.
You flinched, muscles going taught when you realized what they'd done.
"Guys... I asked for a personal assistant... This-I-It's too much! I don't want this!" you stammered, heat rising to your cheeks.
Your mother took you up in her arms and cooed, "Shhh, it's okay, honey. Just give it a try, won't you? For us?"
From somewhere over your shoulder, your sister's husband, a man she'd met in college named Junhyeong, snickered. You wanted to fly over to his spot on the couch and punch him, but that was decidedly not in the spirit of the Winter festival.
"Please, honey. We're worried about your health and safety. Maybe he'll even get you out of the house!" your dad added, a proud gleam in his eye.
You groaned. Your parents really thought they were doing the right thing for you. They wanted you to be happy. It just so happened they had a horrible misunderstanding of what would accomplish that.
But they both gave you their best doe-eyed looks, their hands joining and voices pleading with you.
"Fine," you huffed, "I guess it wouldn't hurt to have clean laundry."
Your parents embraced you lovingly and called in their butler android, a tall model specialized in personal protection they'd named Yunho.
The butler calmly undid the pressure-locked screws and removed the hard, clear case. You caught of a glimpse of him--your new house husband--without a surface between you for the first time.
When he opened his eyes, your breath caught in your throat. All the models were designed to be handsome, but this one looked positively ethereal.
"Hello, who will I be attending?" he asked, voice smooth and deep.
You blinked as your family stared at you in silence, waiting for you to speak. To claim him. "Establish your authority," you recalled one of the pamphlets explaining.
You coughed awkwardly. "Th-that would be me," you uttered eventually. His eyes found yours with warmth you were astonished to see he had.
"I'm Y/n L/n. This is my family," you explained, mimicking the introductions you'd seen your family members do before with their own models.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all," he said before turning to Yunho, watching as the other android unhooked him from the display stand.
Finally free to move, he stepped away from the box and toward your side, a soft smile on his face. Even out of the box, he was still several inches taller than you.
Your other family members and all the androids present introduced themselves, too. You found yourself eyeing him, still shocked after all this time at how real and lifelike their movements were. How his skin looked like the softest flesh and his hair gently swung as he made miniscule shifts with his body.
"Any ideas for a name, honey?" your mother asked as the room had settled.
You frowned and looked up at the droid's face again, assessing its features. His eyes were sharp and narrowed but everything else about his face was soft and inviting, down to the slight curve of his nose and the part of his lips.
And yet, you could see subtle power in his frame, too. His shoulders were broad and sloping while his clothing fit snugly around well-developed muscles and a willowy waist...
He was a living statue of contradicting features--a beautiful clash of masculine and feminine forms.
You thought of the Korean name for the Roman God of War and masculinity, Hwaseong. The android had been made male, designed surely with certain parts bestowed by his creators, and yet they'd also given him space to dare and challenge it. Like some sort of poetic, androgynous deity from ancient times.
"Seonghwa," you said, delight immediately evident on the husband model's face.
"Seonghwa," he repeated, breathless and eyes shining like he'd been given a precious gift.
It made your stomach curl. The emotion he could display was unreal. You didn't think any of your family's other models could look so... so endeared.
You gave him a sheepish smile and did your best to get through the rest of the all-day celebration.
Seonghwa was mostly quiet, observing and learning everything he possibly could about his new family. When you finally started to clean up the wrapping paper and gift bags, he sprang into action with Yunho and your sister's butler model, San.
You tried not to watch. To not stare at the three androids as they worked together, quietly talking amongst themselves like they could be real, having authentic conversations and engaging in meaningful social interaction.
That was definitely another reason you'd avoided getting yourself an android for so long. It unsettled you. How much they could feel and think and move like a human. You'd heard cases of androids getting attached to their owners, of something the manufacturers argued over and over was not love. There were whispers of legislation for recognizing human-android domiciles.
You'd also heard horror stories from around the world. Androids getting violent toward abusive owners. Some stalking previous owners, even sabotaging new replacement androids. Some decommissioning themselves.
Goosebumps erupted over your skin. You didn't want to think about it. But now, in a way, you had to. Seonghwa, no matter how autonomous he'd been coded to be, was now your responsibility.
Speaking of the droid, he looked back at you in between chores, a goofy grin decorating his lips. He'd been laughing at something San had said in a low tone.
When he met your eyes he faltered, as if sensing your discomfort. You forced yourself to give him a reassuring smile, no matter how small.
Satisfied, a lingering mirth danced in his eyes and he continued on, asking Yunho softly where the vacuum was.
All you could do was watch.
Hours later, stuffed full of meat and carbs and wine, your family began to wind down.
Your sister and her husband left first. San trailed behind them with all their gifts like a loyal foot soldier. You watched Seonghwa and Yunho bid him goodnight as well, their faces warm and glowing from the interaction.
"You'll have to tell us how it goes, sweetie," your mother said, wrapping you in a tight hug.
"And invite us over soon when your apartment is clean!" your father added, clapping Seonghwa on the back.
He didn't flinch but slid a nervous gaze past your father's shoulder to you. Your stomach twisted violently as you tried to shoot him another reassuring grin.
"Y-yeah, of course. Thank you again," you said to your parents, eager to go home and unwind. Your social battery had been entirely depleted.
Seonghwa stepped forward to grab your gifts and you scrunched your nose when both your parents wordlessly draped several bags around his arms.
As he stepped back by your side, you grabbed some of the bags--what you could carry all the way home, anyway.
Seonghwa eyed you questioningly, but you shook your head with a smile when he opened his mouth to say something.
When the quick moment was over, you turned back and said your final goodbyes to your parents.
"Bye Seonghwa," you heard Yunho say as you crossed the threshold.
Your new house husband turned over his shoulder, flashing a dazzling grin to the other android in response.
Your heart fluttered at the sight. He was devastatingly attractive with that big, toothy grin and he walked with a candid elegance you couldn't help envy. Like he was completely unaware of how gracefully he moved and how his eyes lit up like he'd been caught in a dream.
"Where is your home?" he asked, turning to you. His eyes softened as he realized you'd already been looking at him--been staring at him like he was a god, really--for several moments.
"On the North side. We'll take a car," you said, finally snapping your jaw shut and clearing your head.
"Okay," he said, directing that wide smile to you now. "I liked your family," he added.
His happy chatter surprised you. It was a stark contrast to the more docile figure he'd cut in your parents' home.
"I'm glad! I guess we'll be seeing more of them," you noted. You turned to him again, lips pursed. "I'm sorry my dad slapped your back. It looked pretty hard."
Seonghwa shook his had. "It's fine. Just caught me off guard."
A car approached the driveway and you shimmied your watch out from under the bags strapped across your wrist.
"Here, let me," Seonghwa muttered as he dove for the bags causing you trouble, promptly sliding them along his arm.
You thanked him and prayed he didn't see the stubborn pink blush heating your cheeks. (Who were you kidding? He was an android. Of course he saw it.)
"Okay, that's the car, let's go," you announced after studying the green check mark that lit up your watch.
You piled into the passenger cabin and watched as he stowed the bags naturally, as if he'd done it hundreds of times.
The automated car took off, programmed to take you the thirty minutes across town needed to get to your apartment. You watched the warm lights of your parents' neighborhood blink away and grow into the tall, cold pillars of the city.
"It would've been easier if you'd let me carry them all from the start," he said a few minutes later into the trip. You jumped, looking over, your hand over your heart. "Oh, my bad, sorry." His hair shook as he reached out to steady you, assessing your well-being.
"I didn't want to make you take all the bags," you muttered as you calmed, a bit thankful when his hand didn't quite touch you.
"Hmm, well, it's quite literally my job, so. Let me."
You gaped up at him, unsettled by his easy, casual speech. God, he seemed so real. It made you flounder for your next words.
"A-Aren't I your boss? Or something like that?" you scratched your chin. "You should listen to me if I don't want you to do something."
You'd said the words before thinking about how he could take them--how they could make them feel. You didn't want to give him an order; didn't want to make him feel forced to do anything.
But his eyes glistened in the moonlight reflected across the windows. "You're cute when you're flustered."
You practically leapt out of your skin at his words. Heat went straight to your cheeks and ears, but also to your core. You swallowed hard, trying to pinch yourself back to reality.
"Can you please tell me what exactly is included in the husband model?" you asked, voice high and strung tight like a steel wire.
Seonghwa chuckled, leaning back in the seat and bracing one arm along the car window. Your heart hammered in your chest when he met eyes with you. Dark orbs pierced yours in a way you knew he could see straight through you.
"House husband," he corrected, offering you a knowing smile. He mercifully answered you instead of dragging out the blush on your face. "And it includes whatever you want. There's a few things hard-wired into me. I like to clean. I like to cook." He shrugged. "I won't say no to romance."
You blinked at him, a brow arching into the sky. "Romance?" you repeated like it was a foreign word.
He nodded. "You know, the husband part of the deal?" he clarified, a teasing brow raised right back at you.
"R-right, well," you cleared your throat and wrung your hands together. "I'm not sure how necessary that part will be."
"It can be anything you want," he said, eyes softer now, taking pity on your shaking form. "We can watch TV together. Play games... just chat. Cuddles are on the table, too, of course."
You bit your lip. "Is.. Is that what you want?" you asked him directly just as the car soared over a bridge and the large windows showed off a vast panorama of the city lights. The Han River glittered back up at you.
But Seonghwa's eyes were locked on you. "More than anything," he answered. "I just want to make you happy."
His words sent goosebumps across your skin, but you clung onto your logic. "But you've been programmed to say that--to want that," you argued.
"Have I?" he questioned, cocking his head. "Or have I simply been programmed to form my own opinions and desires?"
"Have you?" You insisted, voice impossibly high, and he finally laughed. It was a scoff more than anything else, but it sent shivers down your spine.
"Yes, Y/n," he smiled, once again choosing to cool your heating anxiety instead of teasing you further. "I have. Every single model comes equipped with random starting preferences and little quirks. Same with our physical appearances. Our code is so complex that we act like unique, individual people. For all intents and purposes, Y/n, I feel real. I feel alive."
You took in a sharp breath and searched his eyes. They were so real, so startlingly lifelike, you could almost believe him.
"And even if there's something in my code that makes me want to take care of you, I still get to choose how I feel. You and your family are lovely. Yunho and San had nothing but glowing things to say about you all. I want to build something with you, no matter how long it takes."
You sat there, stunned as the world moved past your vehicle in a blur.
"What if I find someone? Like I marry a real person?" you asked, watching his reaction carefully.
He nodded, still offering a small smile. "Plenty of couples agree an extra set of hands in the bedroom is a bonus feature." His smile grew teasing, curved and knowing.
You huffed a stifled laugh and turned back out to the city. Your thoughts wandered. Your house was so dirty. Surely, his great first impression of you would fade as soon as he saw al the mess.
"Let's just get you settled first," you grumbled. He hummed in agreement. The car was not unpleasantly silent the rest of the way to your building on the North side of town.
Weeks passed in no time, which turned into months. Seonghwa, true to his word, let you set the pace of your budding relationship.
As for his work, he jumped at your messy house like a kid in a candy store and had not once looked back.
He cooked and cleaned, tackling your mounds of dirty dishes and laundry in just two days. In the first week alone, he'd transformed your apartment back to how it was when you'd first moved in years ago.
When he wasn't doing chores around the house, he was by your side in some way, shape, or form (when you weren't overstimulated by his presence and requested alone time, of course).
Sometimes it was as simple as folding your laundry next to you on the couch as you watched your favorite series. Other times it was listening to you rant about clients and work, letting your complaints fall on his resourceful ears. When you wanted to vent, it was easy to just let go. When you needed help solving a problem, he was right there with you, voicing clever suggestions.
He'd grown quite comfortable around you, even napping on the chaise lounge in your office as you worked some days, face placid and calm in the dappled sunlight from the window. Other times you found him happily singing broken tunes in the kitchen, melodies all over the place.
He doted on you. Always asked if you'd had enough to eat, if there was anything you'd like better about the meal next time. He listened--really listened to you, adjusting all his routines and activities to suit your lifestyle.
When he came home with the groceries every week, he picked up a bouquet of flowers along the way, telling you how much he wanted to share them with you.
He stayed with you through the hard nights. The ones where your restless tossing and turning would wake him up from his room down the hall. He'd hold your hand until your breathing evened out and your pulse settled down.
After a few weeks, you started to grow comfortable, too. You cuddled into him on the couch after dinner, his whole body so incredibly soft and solid against you. You let him serenade you, let him sing you songs, and starting one day--let him take you outside.
You started with easy walks and trips to stores you'd been meaning to visit for years. You had picnics and rented two-seater bicycles. You checked out trendy restaurants and went to the movie theater for the first time in years.
Old friends came out of the woodwork and they were all delighted to meet him. Some even had droids of their own who happily added to the conversation. When you hung out with people, he wasn't just a fly on the wall. He was an active participant--an equal who made you all laugh and think and share ideas.
Seonghwa had become a part of you. He'd seeped into your soul and could finish your every sentence, fulfill every desire before it even occurred to you.
And one day, you couldn't imagine living without him. It was a terrifying prospect that you'd age and he'd stick around, forever, frozen in time and always ready to lend a hand. But you let him comfort some of your fears. There were procedures he could have done to make him look older. To recalibrate his metabolism and purposefully worsen his vision.
You let him hold your hand through it all. And after a while, you realized how meaningful having someone by your side was.
Sure, he did basic chores you should have already been able to do by yourself and coaxed you into activities you should have already been doing, but it was so much more than that.
You'd come to understand so much about yourself in such a short period of time. There were a whole host of new, trending topics you had opinions on. Having more energy, you picked up your productivity at work. You sought out old hobbies, finding joy in unpaid, unrecognized creation with your hands. You giggled and laughed with abandon you hadn't felt in years. You finally felt like you were becoming somebody.
And you had Seonghwa to thank for it all.
Your alarm blared and you silenced it just as a hand snaked around your waist. You let the warmth of his skin sink into your stiff ab muscles and stretched.
"Good morning, princess," he said softly. His voice was low and groggy, thick with sleep and a morning innocence. You felt his nose graze the top of your head and you shivered.
You'd almost forgotten the events of last night. You'd both had some wine and you wanted to cuddle while you fell asleep. And here he was the next morning: warm and soft and very real, if you had anything to say about it.
"Are you ready to see your family?" he asked, and suddenly the moment shattered.
"Fuck, I forgot that was tonight," you groaned, shifting to get out of bed.
But Seonghwa's arm flexed, trapping you next to him. His other hand wound its way under your waist and you found yourself caged in by your house husband. "Five more minutes," he pleaded in your ear.
You couldn't stop the blush that spread over your body like wildfire if you tried. A warmth dug into your core with the rumbling vibration of his voice that echoed through your chest.
You hadn't thought of him as an android in so long. He acted like his own person completely--he whined and teased and argued all when he felt like it. You couldn't distinguish him from a human at this point.
The thought had long since stopped making your stomach ache, but your conscience still wrestled with it.
"Let me shower, Hwa," you prodded, pushing against his strong arms. They resisted for all of a second before releasing you gently. You squeezed his forearm and stood. One of his hands lingered, tracing the curve of your body as you moved. "What time should we pick up the cake?"
He propped a hand under his head. "I told Miss Kim 11:00," then, "Are you feeling okay?"
Your feet stopped despite your mental will to continue on and get in the damn shower. "Yeah, I'm just nervous for tonight."
"Well, don't be. It''s going to be great. I can go get the cake by myself if it's too much for you," he offered.
Your shoulders slumped in defeat. You'd been secretly loving when he sounded all... domestic like that.
But it also made you want to vomit. He was a walking, living pile of code. You had to drill it through your head again and again and again. You didn't dare to cross the line; didn't dare exploit him.
So you shook your head and managed to fix your posture. Tried to make your smile meet your eyes. "No, I'll go with. I just need to take a hot shower. A little tense, you know?"
Seonghwa eyed you. "...Do you want help?"
You voice caught in your throat. "What?" you squeaked.
Your house husband sat up, messy bedhead and skewed tank top revealing the delicious curves and planes of his chest and shoulders. "Let me give you a massage," he said, voice still just slightly hoarse. "In the shower."
Something in you snapped, like a cable splitting in two.
You spoke before you could take it back.
"Okay."
Heat pooled in your abdomen as he stood, giving you a lopsided grin. He ambled past you into the bathroom and all you could do was follow as he started the shower and began peeling off layers.
You'd seen him in various states of undress without meaning to. Once when he was wiping off sweat after tending to new plants he'd bought for your balcony. He'd started shirtless, but he'd pushed his waistband down, just enough to expose the dip of his pelvis and dab with a towel. You'd turned your head to look away, heart racing.
There was another time you'd come home after an early night out with a friend to find him in your bathtub. He'd claimed he wanted to experience a bubble bath, but you'd seen enough evidence that pointed to something else entirely.
Your pastel tie-dye loofah, razor, and shampoo bottle all floated beside him in the tub. And when he rose sharply out of the bath to explain himself to you, he'd forgotten or didn't care that he was naked. And hard.
You'd thought about that one for a while. You'd told him it was fine, that he could use your tub any time you'd like, just to let him know in advance next time. But the incident stuck in your mind like a virus.
Until you'd walked in on him masturbating one night.
It was your fault entirely--you hadn't knocked, hadn't even announced yourself--and you'd found him sitting up in bed. His face was as bare as the rest of his body and one of his lithe, elegant hands gripped his rock-hard cock.
You gave yourself just long enough to memorize the image before you leapt back from his doorframe, yelling an apology.
Instead of embarrassed, he'd yelled back about joining him, and you hadn't been able to look him in the eyes for a whole day after that.
You didn't know what sort of function masturbating fulfilled in his code. Nonetheless, the image of him sprawled on his bed, one hand around the phone you'd bought him and the other gripping his cock, replayed in your mind constantly.
So when he threw off his underwear and climbed into the shower, eyes looking expectantly at you, your heart skipped a beat. You tried not to ogle him. Just a quick glance with your eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks either way.
You copied him, letting your clothes fall to the floor. You'd been naked around him before more often than you thought entirely necessary, but you definitely weren't complaining.
He often liked to bathe you and massage you, asking for access to your body with a gentle respect. His eyes never roamed too far. His hands only lingered when you leaned into his touch. He respected your boundaries no matter how many times you wished deep down he would challenge them.
His gaze was reverent when you opened the shower door, but you could see the muscles in his jaw and forearm twitch. It was clear he was holding back. From what, you didn't know--but you realized you might be seconds from finding out.
You let the warm water wash over you and you sighed, genuinely relieved by the sweltering temperature.
"You're so beautiful," Seonghwa said, voice light and raspy behind you. "Have I told you that lately?"
You chuckled, a serene smile gracing your lips. "Only twice yesterday," you answered, skin tingling in the places his fingers landed.
"Oh, so not nearly enough," he murmured. It was just loud enough to hear over the soft spray of the shower.
You leaned back not only into the gentle flow of water but also his touch, his dexterous hands finding your shoulders easily. You hummed thoughtfully in the water.
"No, not nearly enough," you giggled, going along with his overt flirting for once.
Seonghwa seemed to like this, a hearty chortle escaping his chest. He gathered you in his arms, roping around your waist like a boa constrictor. He'd been bolder with his touch lately. Greedier. Hungrier. But never crossing the line.
"My apologies, love," he said easily. Naturally. "Can I make it up to you?"
You fought back a shudder as you quickly stalled. "You mean the massage?"
His nose had found its way to your shoulder, ghosting traces across your skin. "Mmhmm, that works."
You wanted to keen at his words, arch back into him and kiss sloppy marks into his jaw. But you forced the thoughts down, mind buzzing with hesitation.
You were going to lose your willpower someday. You were going to lose out to him, you just knew it.
You'd imagined what it would be like far more times than you cared to admit. You'd taken the image of him jerking off and ran, finding your dreams haunted with scenes of him bending you over your dresser. Having his way with you on the kitchen counter. Your work desk. The balcony.
His steady touch reeled you back to the present. His thumb pressed down on a knot in your shoulder and you just about collapsed against the shower wall.
"Shit, I didn't realize you'd built up so much stress," he confessed, voice laced with guilt.
You were quick to quell that part of him. "I should have asked."
The thought of him not massaging you--not helping you ease the tension in your muscles after a hard day of work--was no longer an option. He'd found his way under your skin and you couldn't decide if you were more growing more frustrated or increasingly desperate from it.
Probably both.
He pressed into a particularly tight bundle of muscle and the pain was so good a small whimper made its way out of your mouth before you could stop it.
"Shit, right there," you groaned, neck lolling back.
Seonghwa continued to rolls his thumbs across your skin in deliberate patterns, determined to loosen up your stiff muscles, but you had no idea of the effect your sounds had on him.
Not until you felt the hard length of him press against your spine. You shivered, but refused to turn around.
"Keep going, just like that," you moaned, feeling your body come alive under his touch.
"Fuck, Y/n, are you trying to ruin me?" he asked, voice sharp and deep.
You bit your lip, willing your aching hips to stay still. But you pushed.
"Maybe. I just... really like the feeling of your hands on me," you admitted. It was the most you'd ever given him.
Seonghwa's hands on your back stilled, instead pressing his fingertips into your flesh. He bent down, chin coming to rest gently in the crook of your neck. For a second, all you could hear was the steady downpour of the shower and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.
"Please, Y/n," he begged softly, voice raw despite how clear it had just been moments ago. "Please let me touch you."
Heat dripped from your core and you inhaled sharply. The air crackled with electricity.
"Okay," you breathed.
And that was enough for him to let loose.
His hands jolted back into action, one tracing down the curve of your spine, the other sliding up your chest to find a supple breast to squeeze. "Tell me if you don't like anything," he instructed. He planted his soft lips right behind your ear. "And also tell me if you do."
You whimpered the most pathetic "Uh-huh," you'd ever let out in your life and bit your lip to try and keep some semblance of sanity.
The hand on your spine trailed further south, finding purchase on your hip, just as his lips latched onto your neck. His hot, wet mouth was somehow searing against the shower water and you felt your nerves evaporate. He trailed down to your shoulder and nipped softly. The breathy moan you released echoed in the bathroom and your head swam deliciously.
"I don't experience dreams when I sleep," he began, head tiling against your shoulder, "but every night I see you in my head." You swallowed thickly. "I see all the ways I want to touch you. All the places I want to put my mouth."
Your inhale was heavy. "Seonghwa--"
"No, let me finish. I'm trying to tell you this is all I've wanted for months. Not because I was made to. Not because you're my employer. But because you're you."
His mouth roamed again back up toward your cheek and the hand fondling your breast now gingerly clasped around your nipple. "You're beautiful." He planted a kiss just under your ear, along the edge of your jaw. "You're brilliant." Another kiss. "You treat everyone around you, including me, like precious treasures. But you're the real jewel." A kiss right at the pulse point of your throat. "I've been dying to show you how I feel. Will you let me?"
"Y-Yes," you gasped, any other words taken from you as he continued to devour your neck and massage your swollen nipple. His other hand finally moved, tracing down the line of your hip to your thigh.
You whimpered as the world fell away. All you could focus on were the places he touched you and the hot anticipation rising in your core.
When his fingers found your folds, you arched into him easily, no thought behind your actions now. He groaned possessively and grabbed more of you, pulling you flush against his body. His cock throbbed against the base of your spine. You groaned at it all, hips rocking into his touch.
"You're so wet for me, love," he observed. "How long have you wanted this, too? Since you saw me jerking off?"
You bit your lip as he slid a slicked finger along your clit. Maybe it would be embarrassing to tell him the truth. But you were too far gone to hold back at this point.
"Since the first day," you answered, more clarity in your voice than you'd expected.
Seonghwa's hands froze for just a few milliseconds. But you noticed.
"Since the first day, baby?" he teased in your ear. His finger nudged at your entrance, just as mocking. "You set up all these rules and boundaries between us, made me wait for six months, but you've been down bad since the first day? What, did you see me in the box and start getting wet like this?"
Your hips rolled back as your head rolled to the side, a whine ripping through you at his filthy words and nastier hands. You ground down on his finger desperately, but it was clear he was having too much fun.
"Hmm, not yet, sweetheart. I think I want to see you beg for it. You know. After all this time." You could hear the wicked grin that must have spread across his face. The groan you let out was just as sinful.
To your dismay, he suddenly pulled back. You whined at the loss but he was quick to tether you back to the moment, deftly switching hands and anchoring himself to the other side of your neck. He pinched your untouched nipple, covered in your natural lubrication, and chuckled when you squirmed.
When his other hand found your pussy, it dragged up and down, gathering slick. And just when you were sure he'd stuff another one of his long fingers inside you, no matter how little and teasing, the pad of his middle finger found your clit.
Your hips bucked into his finger and he hummed against your neck appreciatively, "So sensitive."
But he wouldn't move. Just kept his finger pad frustratingly still right up against your hooded nub.
"P-please, Hwa," you mewled, back arching helplessly into his swollen cock. You didn't even want to begin thinking about him fucking into you right now with that thing. You'd lose your mind.
But then again, you were already losing it.
"Please what? Tell me how to satisfy you, princess," he murmured into your skin.
The heat of the shower was suddenly too much in conjunction with his mouth and body and hands. Your mind fogged with the glass of the shower stall. But you spoke through it the best you could.
"Touch me, Seonghwa, please, anything--I-I need you so bad," You moaned.
"Here?" he asked, moving his middle finger against you finally. But it was haplessly languid and the tease was unbearable. Your hips trembled with the need for friction.
"Fuck! Yes," you breathed. His finger continued to move but the molasses pace was torture. You writhed under him. "P-please, Hwa, faster, I need--"
"Like this?" he questioned as he sped up, finally giving you a fraction of the friction you desired.
You shuddered and panted, your voice high, "Yes! Fuck, please, Hwa, more. I--I need you!"
"Mmm, there you go. Good girl," he hummed in your ear, teeth scraping the sensitive shell.
Finally relenting, his finger circled you faster, drawing out an orgasm that had been building under the surface for minutes now.
Your legs locked up and you had no choice but to lean back into him. He took your weight easily. As your eyelids fluttered from the attention on your swollen clit, you felt him plant adoring kisses in your hair.
"You're so beautiful like this, falling apart on a single finger." he praised you as he worked on you. You tilted your head on his shoulder and you twisted to look up at him as he spoke. "I'm so lucky I get to see you like this. So lucky I get to be yours."
His words thundered through you and you bit your lip, feeling your eyes cross as you tried to look at him properly.
"M-Mine," you whimpered back, hips rolling up to meet his finger.
The thought put you over the edge and you came with a hungry moan. Your back arched and bent, and he followed you down, rubbing his finger into your clit furiously through the waves of your orgasm.
He stilled with you finally and retracted his fingers. You couldn't think. All you wanted was him, around you, on you, in you, and nothing else mattered. You gulped--your morals were fucked.
"Seonghwa," you breathed as you came down, wind knocked out of you. You leaned back against him again as your head rushed with blood.
"Yes, baby?" he hummed, dragging kisses down the side of your face.
"I--Can I kiss you?" you asked, head turning to meet his.
You swore his eyes darkened.
And then he was kissing you with those plump lips that had formed little, red, temporary marks along your neck and shoulders. You groaned into him and he held you firmly as his hands found some part of your body to touch again.
Your fingers switched to life when you realized you could touch him, too.
Like they'd never felt anything before, your hands roamed his chest and neck and arms hungrily, palms laving at his lithe build. You'd never get over how soft his skin was. How perfect and warm and fleshy it felt.
Your kiss deepened in the meantime, your tongue finding his. The bathroom was a warm, steaming, moaning mess but you were only focused on Seonghwa. His mouth and hands on you, his presence, his smell--his hard cock flushed against you, red tip leaking down a shaft much longer than you'd remembered.
You paused, staring, while both your heavy pants filled the air. "I--Can I--With my mouth?"
Your choked attempt to beg for his cock down your throat was cut off as a loud chime rang out over your apartment's alarm system.
Seonghwa's eyes immediately flashed blue as he tapped into the home's network, letting him see who was at your doorstep.
You bit your lip, body still aching. You prayed it was just a package that could be left in the delivery module and you'd pick back up where you'd left off in seconds.
To your disappointment, his brows furrowed.
"...Your sister's here. With San. And the cake."
You sat at the kitchen counter, finger drawing invisible scattered lines and shapes into the white surface. Your sister sat next to you, gulping down a cocktail as she watched your androids move around the kitchen like it was second nature.
"So then Junhyeong sends it back and by the time they remade his meal, we were done with ours," she said in between sips. "It was ridiculous."
You sighed, taking a swig of your own as you tried to steel yourself. The conversation had been much heavier than you'd wanted to deal with today.
Your sister had come to you to vent before the family dinner later that night. Coincidentally, it was a dinner to celebrate your parents' thirtieth anniversary, but all your sister wanted to talk about was her own failing marriage.
Not usually one to initiate contact, it surprised you when she'd turned up at your doorstep out of the blue one night three months ago. San had been with her, thankfully, so you didn't feel terrible about sharing two bottles of wine with her then sending her back home.
But now you were starting to understand. It was so much more serious than you'd thought and your heart ached for not seeing the signs before. For not taking her quiet cries for help more seriously.
Your sister's husband had fallen out of love and resorted to some less than savory behavior. She'd caught him cheating not once, but twice. He was drinking almost every night--that is, if he came home. And then there were the credit statements--she'd discovered he'd taken out loans in her name. When she'd asked him what he'd done with the money, he admitted to gambling it all away.
But worst of all, you were horrified to learn he'd began exhibiting violent behavior toward her. Apparently, San had been there for every close call, had diffused the situation and taken a handful of punches meant for your sister, but the thought made you squirm uncomfortably.
"Hey, Y/n," your sister said, voice lowered to a whisper now. You watched her eyes drill into San's back, face unreadable. "Can I talk to you on the balcony?"
She turned to you, eyes shining with unshed tears. You gripped your glass. "Of course."
You padded out of the kitchen behind your sister silently, giving Seonghwa a reassuring smile when he looked over his shoulder. You could see the concern in his eyes. Your sister was just as much family to him as she was to you by now.
When you made it to the balcony, you held your breath. Whatever she was about to say, she wanted to say it out of earshot from your androids. You shifted your weight from foot to foot nervously as she chewed her lip, clearly hesitant.
"What I'm about to tell you, Y/n, you're not allowed to judge me for it, okay?" she said. Your heart pounded, equally curious and apprehensive.
"Okay, promise. This is now the balcony of nonjudgmental silence and listening," you chirped.
"I'm serious, Y/n," your sister huffed, and you held up your hands in innocence.
"I am, too! Sorry, you're making me nervous, just say it already," you insisted, tapping her on the arm impatiently.
"Ugh, fine, okay. Here goes nothing," she started. She took a big breath, unable to look you in the eyes. "I'm leaving Junhyeong."
You raised a brow. "That's great news, I would never judge you for that--"
"For San," she added.
"Oh," you responded breathlessly. You studied each other in silence. Your sister swallowed anxiously, and you could tell you needed to speak and reassure her. But you were frozen.
She'd fallen for San? For her butler model? The one who'd been with your sister and her husband for three years now?
You had so many questions. Since when? How had she known? How did she feel about him being, well.. not real?
You mind swirled and your sister looked like she was finally going to cry so you scrambled for something to say.
"C-Congrats!" you said, willing a smile to paint your face. "I--I can't judge you for that. Does he... make you happy?"
Her face finally melted in relief and you saw the most beautiful expression of adoration take its place quickly thereafter. "Yes, very. I--Y/n, I'm in love with him. He's everything to me. I don't care if the courts never recognize the relationship legally. I just need him."
You blinked back tears at her confession. Your lip quivered at the resonance of her feelings within your own heart, a desperate cry aching to be released. But you quelled it. This was your sister's marriage. Her whole life was about to change. So was Junhyeong's. And San's. You took a deep breath.
"How long?" you asked. She hesitated, just a second of her eyes moving back and forth across yours, and you couldn't help yourself. "Were you... intimate with him before? Did Junhyeong know? Does he know?"
"Jesus, Y/n, do you really want to know all that?" she asked.
"Yes," you said breathlessly, hoping you looked more supportive and nosy and less desperate and praying for insight.
"Fine, sit down," she sighed. "I'll tell you everything. But promise me you won't tell mom and dad. I need to do this myself."
You agreed and she followed through on her word, enlightening you on her love life.
San had entered the picture early on in your sister's relationship.
He'd become a romantic asset, as she put it, to her and Junhyeong's relationship rather quickly. And after a year and half, when Junhyeong drifted away, he waved them off.
Might as well give the robot another job, he'd said, talking about sex and affection like add-on features.
Instead of just keeping her satisfied and entertained, however, San had also helped your sister navigate her feelings. He'd been there when Junhyeong wasn't. He'd made her feel like a brand new person and, most importantly, worthy and deserving of real love.
You wanted terribly to tell her about you and Seonghwa--about the line you'd just crossed and how you echoed her feelings. But, when you thought about it for more than two seconds, you and Seonghwa hadn't talked properly. Or, at least, you hadn't been able to tell him how you felt or had a discussion about your fears and hopes and dreams for a future with him.
Instead you helped her come up with ways to navigate her situation. You researched government forms online with her and helped her submit a divorce petition. Then, all you had to do was figure out how to tell your parents--and Junhyeong. Most of them involved letting your sister stay at your place for the rest of the week.
What felt like only minutes later, there was a knock at the sliding door. You both turned around to see a pink-cheeked San waving through the glass, as if waiting for permission. Your sister giggled and motioned him out.
"We're about two hours out," he announced as he poked his head through a small crack in the door. "I don't know about you, Y/n, but usually your sister likes to start getting ready about now."
You didn't have time to answer before your sister jumped to her feet. "Already? Ugh, you're so right, I probably look like a mess. All tipsy and puffy," she muttered as she started collecting her things to go back inside.
"Hmm, I just see a fine, sun-kissed babe in front of me," he offered back, reaching out a hand to help her inside.
"Are you sure that's not your reflection in the glass, baby?" she shot back, and you couldn't help the smile that grew when you realized how comfortable they felt around each other and, now, you. "Come with me, though, I have some news I think you'll want to hear."
"Oh? So you don't just want to have a private first course?" San asked, pinching her waist. She giggled and dragged him down the hall.
You watched them carefully, studying the way San's hand found hers as they disappeared into the depths of your apartment. Their flirtatious banter reminded you of yours and Seonghwa's.
But you couldn't stop thinking about how you hadn't gotten to end that shower properly. How you hadn't talked about your future with Seonghwa or what you meant to each other now. If you were even on the same plane.
Your heart throbbed when you realized he'd specifically not mentioned the word love. Was this just sexual for him? Were you friends with benefits now? Was that, at the end of the day, just what a house husband model provided? Was this just work for him? These were the questions that you'd bottled away for months now, and the source of your frustration.
You fiddled with your hands as you tried not to compare your situation to your sister's and San's.
But as you padded into your bathroom and began to get ready, it was all you could think about.
By the time you'd finished applying makeup and picking out an outfit, you discovered your parents had sent Yunho ahead, as they usually did, to help with any last minute preparations. You found him, along with Seonghwa and San, loudly cracking jokes in the kitchen. Your heart skipped.
Your parents arrived at 7:00 exactly, already love-drunk and champagne-buzzed from their celebration that must have begun well before the end of the work day if their sloppy smiles had anything to say about it.
Junhyeong, the last member of the family (technically), stumbled in at 7:47. No call, no text. Just ambled in, hands empty, mumbling apologies about getting caught up at work.
No one at the table greeted him properly, but he also wasn't wasting his time with pleasantries anyway. He dug into the food platters, still half-full and lukewarm now, with a complete lack of awareness.
Your sister had enough mercy to let the man finish his dinner. You didn't think you'd be so kind.
Small bowls of fruit were passed around while Seonghwa stood and clinked his glass with his dessert spoon.
"Well, I think it's come to that time of the evening where we recognize the guests of honor," he started, bowing slightly to your parents. They grinned back at him, endeared.
"I've known the L/n family for just over six months now," he continued. You stared up at him across the table just as enamored as your parents. "And while that's not a lot, I can already confidently say you are the nicest, most generous people I could ever have wished to find. Y/n and S/n are proof enough that you two have had a beautiful, meaningful marriage. Congratulations to thirty years and here's to thirty more!"
The table erupted into fervent clapping before everyone raised their drinks to honor your parents.
You and your sister spoke next, giving a heartfelt speech about how grateful you were for them. Together, you'd met halfway on the cost of a lavish, three-week cruise for the two of them. Your mother cried happily, eyes glassy with fondness. Your father beamed and started voicing destination ideas immediately.
Yunho and San also added to the festivities, sharing their best memories with your parents and showering them with compliments and well-wishes.
Your brother-in-law stayed quiet. He clapped and mumbled congratulations when necessary. But you didn't think he'd added anything meaningful to the entire four-hour celebration.
And finally, when most of the dishes were done and your family lingered at the table with final thoughts and tidbits of gossip getting voiced, your sister met eyes with you. You nodded, bracing yourself.
"Um, one last thing before we go," your sister spoke up. All eyes fell on her as she ambled back to the table from the kitchen. She took up a strategic position just behind San's shoulder.
"Oh boy, here we go," Junhyeong mumbled before taking another sip of wine. Your fists clenched at his behavior and you were about to knock some sense into him when your sister spoke again.
"Actually, Junhyeong, it's about you, so listen up," she advised him confidently. Silence hung in the air while you saw her muster up the courage to say what she needed to now. "I'm leaving you. Or, more accurately, you'll be leaving me. I want you out of the house in three days."
"What? What the fuck? What the hell are you talking about?" Junhyeong asked. He was furious as he stood, knocking back his chair.
The androids in the room stood with him, all seemingly on guard for Junhyeong's next movement. The air was tense for several moments. You saw San's features had twisted into pure disgust and open hatred for the man.
Yunho and Seonghwa, meanwhile, kept their faces stony as they awaited a need to take action. Yunho, in particular, looked seconds away from taking the bastard out with the butter knife clenched in his fist. You shuddered as you remembered his model was specialized in home protection.
"I'm talking about the way you've been treating me like shit for two years," you sister answered. Her face was still just barely visible behind San's shoulder. You saw her reach out to grasp at his shirt ends for stability. "Not giving me attention was one thing. You stopped giving me the time of day as soon as we moved into your dream house in Gangnam. But the cheating, the gambling, it's all--"
"Ha! Don't you dare bring up cheating when you let this thing fuck you sideways every day of the week! I don't deserve this shit." Junhyeong fired back, inching closer with the increasing rage in his eyes that shifted between your sister and San.
The men in the room, both human and otherwise, took an equal step closer to him. Junhyeong looked around, as if suddenly remembering they weren't alone.
"I deserve to be loved," your sister snapped, voice tight. "San made me understand that. He helped me see exactly how much better off I am without you, you piece of shit. I don't even feel safe enough having this conversation with you privately. That's how fucked up this has gotten, Junhyeong. I want you out of the house in three days."
The man's eyes grew dark and, before you could register it, he lunged.
But the androids were faster.
San had the man off the ground in seconds, holding him up by a devastating grip to his throat. Yunho was just behind him, eyes flashing between San and Junhyeong, ready for anything.
Seonghwa had come to stand between you and the fight, but you weren't sure you could actually call it a fight. Not when Junhyeong gasped for air, face turning a violent shade of red and helplessly slapping San's forearm.
"Out of the house. Three days. You don't see her again. Period," came San's stunted words. You could tell from the veins popping in his neck and forehead just how great of an effort he was making to hold back.
"I'm--" Junhyeong gasped out, "Her-- h-husband!"
You swore San let out something like a growl and his grip threatened to clench Junhyeong's throat into a broken mess. But your sister walked up, shaking slightly yet undeterred, and put her phone in Junhyeong's face.
"And here is the divorce petition I submitted today," she asserted. "Effective immediate upon filing, the petitioned has 72 hours to send a legal response. In the meantime, the petitioner is granted an immediate and legally binding restraining order against the petitioned. Do you understand?"
Junhyeong wheezed in San's grasp and grit his teeth. "Fuck... that!" He struggled against the droid's hands but it was ultimately futile.
San took the opportunity to run the man's back into the wall.
"Do you understand?" he repeated for your sister. Junhyeong coughed and gasped for air, skin now bordering on a purple hue.
Your parents--God, your poor parents--watched in horror as the scene unfolded in front of them.
"Fine!" Junhyeong finally spat. San let him go and he writhed on the floor, gulping in air and clutching his throat.
The man stood with the help of the wall but coughed as he tried to wobble over to the door.
"Just because you submitted a petition doesn't mean I'll agree," he choked out, rubbing his throat. "And just because you're safe for the next three days doesn't mean you will be after."
"Do you even know how divorce works these days?" you countered, walking into the kitchen to stand directly in his line of sight. Seonghwa followed you closely, never letting the distance grow beyond an arm's reach. "The trial happens virtually right after you submit a response. San has recorded evidence of everything you've said and done to her. And when she wins the case--which she will because you fucked up big time, buddy--you'll never be allowed within a 10-mile radius of her again."
Junhyeong bared his teeth, face blooming with rage. He stuttered for seconds, eyes wild as he tried to come up with his next move.
"I--I'll sue!" he yelled, eyes wide as saucers as he turned back one last time. "Your robot assaulted me just now!"
You didn't know what came over you, but you found yourself throwing a skillet that had been sitting on the drying rack at Junhyeong's stupid, splotchy face. "Get the FUCK out of my house!" you yelled.
The man barely managed to dodge but quickly reached for the door and disappeared down the hall before anyone in the room with aim, namely the three very irritated androids with precision vision and speed, could bother to try again.
"Is everyone okay?" Yunho called out, checking over the family. He was answered by astonished affirmations from your parents and troubled grunts from your and your sister. "...San? You good, man?"
No one had noticed that San had grown heated in the meantime, cheeks and ears red with so much frustration you could practically see the steam coming off him.
Your sister's face melted and your heart clenched as she wound her arms around him and squeezed his bicep.
He blinked back to reality, looking down at your sister like she had the whole world in her eyes. He grabbed her back affectionately, shoulders finally loosening.
"Sorry, I just--I can't stand that asshole." He pursed his lips and looked down at your sister with a pout.
You and your mother both broke out into laughter, both caught off-guard by his endearing honesty.
"Mom, Dad," your sister addressed your parents as she scanned their faces for their reactions. "I'm so sorry to do that tonight, of all nights. I just... Y/n helped me realize I was done being the victim today." She shot you a meaningful glance.
"No, honey," your father spoke, eyes shining with consideration. "That was the best anniversary gift we could have received, right next to the cruise you two got us, of course. We're so proud of you, sweetheart."
Your mother echoed the sentiment and it wasn't long before the normal family rhythm returned.
And when your parents finally did leave, they ended the night by telling San to keep your sister safe and to take good care of her. Their eyes shone with all the joy and love a parent could have for their child.
After they closed the door, you and your sister turned to each other. Neither of you could help the string of giggles you let out, giddy from the intensity of dinner.
You fell into an easy post-celebration routine. Seonghwa scrubbed the surfaces while you organized the leftovers, attaching lids to containers that were set aside to cool off and mindfully placing them in the fridge.
At some point, your sister bid you goodnight with San, advising you that they were going to the guestroom. She also specifically asked you to leave them... unbothered until morning.
You and Seonghwa ushered them off to bed, making sure the guest bathroom was well-stocked for their stay, before turning out the lights and retreating to your bedroom. You didn't even have to ask him. He just followed like a tethered presence of warmth.
And finally, after the exhausting eon that your day had seemed to be, you were finally alone with him again.
"Well," he started, coming to sit at the edge of the bed with you, "that was a lot."
You sighed and fell into the bed next to him. The way his hand gently found your thigh and started to massage sweet rhythms into your aching muscles was familiar. Easy. Comforting.
And yet tonight his touch also seem charged with something else--something unfinished and still raw from earlier that morning. A hunger reawakened in you.
"Thank you for taking care of all the prep." You started calmly. Nonchalantly. "I swear I was going to help you make the side dishes, but I got caught up with S/n."
You watched him turn around slowly, deliberately, his lips twitching up into a smile. "It was nothing. You changed a life today after all."
"Two, actually," you said instantly. "San's life changed today, too."
Seonghwa's hand on your thigh froze but his eyes gleamed.
You sat up to finally face him head on. Unsaid words bubbled up in your chest like a flower ready to unfurl in the light.
"I wanted to--"
"Can I ask you something?"
Your voices overlapped out of the depths of the silent tension that hung over you. Neither of you could help but laugh.
"You first," you said. You weren't conscious of the way your eyes traced down his face like he'd disappear any moment. Seonghwa noticed, of course. He always did. "What were you going to ask?"
He licked his lips before biting them once, like he was building up the courage to ask again. Something in you wanted to grab his hand--to tell him no matter what he asked, it would be okay. You would bend over backwards for this man. You had more than enough money to spoil him--you bought him a phone, Legos, the latest video games, and whatever else he wanted--but you'd still sell your soul to the devil to make him as happy as he'd made you.
You grabbed his hand, almost greedily, and sandwiched it between your two. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he relaxed and gripped your hand back firmly. The warmth made your heart soar.
"I was wondering if you'd help me apply for autonomous citizenship," he breathed, words rolling of the tongue so genuine, so palpable, you wanted to scoop him into your arms right then and there.
But you hadn't had that conversation yet. Instead, you were having this one. So you settled for the mature adult communication appropriate for the situation. You squeezed his hand a bit tighter in encouragement.
"Of course! I honestly completely forgot that was a thing," you were quick to admit. "I would have applied you for it months ago if I had my head on straight," you said.
"R-really? Just like that?" Seonghwa asked, eyes round in wonder.
You nodded emphatically. "Yes, Hwa, just like that. You deserve to go wherever you want, whenever you want. It's so stupid you can't be outside certain hours of the night or travel outside the province without me anyway."
"So, then... you trust me?" Seonghwa asked, his voice dropping a notch lower. You felt it in the way his eyes dropped to your lips and how he inched almost imperceptibly closer to you.
"Well, duh," you answered, trying to keep your tone playful. This was made harder by him suddenly beginning to massage your thigh again.
"Could I venture to say that," he started again, bringing a finger to your face to tuck a stray hair back into place, "maybe, you think I'm my own person?"
You blinked up at him, admiring the way his lips hung slightly ajar in concentration, or maybe rapture, and how his own hair fell over gentle brown eyes that stayed fixed on you.
"Absolutely," you said firmly. Quickly. Maybe too quickly. Your pulse jumped.
His lower hand gravitated to your center slowly, dragging upward with a delicious and devastating warmth that nearly made you gasp. His other hand had found a home encasing your jaw and you leaned into it thoughtlessly. He had you in the palm of his hand--literally.
"And yet," he held you still, your body frozen and your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your heating pelvis, "you still don't think I'm capable of love."
The words were like a slap to the face, and they stung.
You recoiled backward, eyes searching his desperately. His hands dropped, defeated, and he looked right back at you with a wild, pleading gaze.
For a few seconds your mouth opened and closed in stunned silence, fresh tears welling up in your eyes. And then the words--the excuses, the rationalizations--were rolling off your lips before you could think about organizing your thoughts coherently.
"I--N-no, I--It's not like that! I can't tell you what you feel or don't, and you clearly think you're real and you communicate your feelings and opinions when you have them--which I love, by the way. I love--" your breath disappeared.
He raised a brow. "You love?" he repeated, face icy and waiting. There was no mercy this time. You squirmed in your seat, your mind racing with endless thoughts.
But in the end, there was just one thought that mattered.
Your voice came out clearer than you'd expected. "I love you, Seonghwa--"
And then you fell apart.
"--But I'm so scared," you finally admitted, hot tears spilling over as you voiced the thought you'd kept prisoned in the back of your mind for months now. "How do I know, Hwa? How do I know you're real? You obviously think you are and I treat you like one because I also can't bare the possibility that you're not, but at the end of the day, you are code. Impossibly intricate code programmed to make you imperfectly unique--programmed to make you feel like you're real.
"And I want to believe it so bad, Hwa. I love you, I really do. But there's a part of me that can't help but wonder if..." you gulped, stomach clenching and threatening to empty at the words you had to spit out next. "If something happens--If human-android relationships aren't just frowned upon, but banned--If something suddenly changes in your code--If you realize one day you want another employer--I just--"
His brows pinched up and tears of his own took their place at the rim. He leaned forward and held you firmly by the back of your neck. Not roughly, just securely. Reassuringly. To tell you he was right there with you, with your hopes and fears.
His forehead leaned into yours and you sighed as he swiped a thumb to your tear-stained cheek, attentive to you even now.
"I already told you, love," he breathed. "I'm yours."
You bit your lip while a fountain of saline tears built up at his words.
"The way I see it, there's no way to truly know, I suppose. I'd argue the same about humans--how can you be sure you're real when you're just flesh and blood?" You swallowed as the words pummeled you. "But what matters to me is what about it bothers you so much. Do you feel like if any of those possibilities happened--If our relationship was illegal--If I was decommissioned--Would you feel like you wasted your time? Would you regret being with me?"
His question made you blink once. Twice. Then--
"Of course not," you asserted. "I cherish every moment I've spent with you." The words were easy. Doubtless. Blissfully true.
His hand cupped your face again and you breathed him in. Rich vanilla musk. Bitter coffee balanced by sugared flowers. The faint, almost faraway delay of cedarwood. An amalgamation of his body wash, cologne, and the complex synthetic sweat that leaked from his pores like any human.
His smell, his aura, his presence--it felt so intense. So frustratingly, laughably real.
He craned down, lips right next to your ear as he spoke whisper quiet. "Then let me love you for as long as you'll cherish me."
For a moment, you couldn't breathe. Your brain stopped short at his words because he was right.
Nothing mattered in the face of simply getting to spend any time with him you could. To love and be loved for as long as you could.
And then you were leaning into him, your lips finding his like maybe they never would again.
He was with you instantly, his mouth stuck to yours in a frantic, endless chase. The kiss was desperate and needy, your tongues and lips crashing into each other with abandon.
With your hesitations finally gone, it was like a wildfire had been set free. Your hands roamed his body, tracing the figure of his jaw, neck, shoulders, chest--
"I want to hear you say it," you said, pulling back but letting a hand trail up to rub a thumb along his jaw.
One look at his face had you wrecked. His usually well-manicured hair had fallen out of place while half-lidded eyes watched you, glassy but burning.
He bit a swollen lip and squeezed your waist. "What, that I love you?" His voice was husky and danced precariously on the lower edge of his register.
You nodded, gazing up at him in anticipation. "You didn't say it in the shower this morning, so I didn't know what this meant to you. I think," you swallowed, hand fisting in his shirt fabric, "I think I wanted to hear you say it all day."
Hands grabbed your hips, one scooping under a soft cheek, and hoisted you up and over his lap. You gasped at how easily he manhandled you, but you supposed it came with the territory of inhuman strength. He was usually just so... delicate with you.
As you settled into the new position you found yourself in--straddling your house husband at the edge of the bed--he finally took the opportunity to let his mouth latch onto the exposed skin of your neck. His lips were like plush velvet against your pulse points. You shivered and ran a hand through his silken dark locks.
"I love you, Y/n," he finally breathed, locking eyes with you. "I am in love with you. With the way you're so stubbornly independent. With the care you show your friends and family. With the way you act surprised and pout when I call you out for lying. Everything. Every part of you. All your fears and burdens, too. I love you in a way I thought I'd never feel about a human."
You watched him in awe as he swiped the remnants of your tears away, the pad of his thumb just as pliable as his lips. Your body acted before you could think.
"What way is that?" you asked, one hand coming to hold his wrist still as you guided his thumb into your mouth.
His eyes flew wide before fluttering into a haze even foggier than before. You let your tongue dance around his thumb, languidly swiping up the finger pad.
His voice was tight as he clarified, "The way I'd give up every part of me to stay by your side."
The words were thick and heavy with their implication. You let them linger, let them wrap around you like a blanket as you hollowed your cheeks and took his thumb up to the webbing of his palm. Your eyes met his and you wondered if yours were just as intense.
"I'm yours, too," you finally said, releasing his thumb. A trail of spit hung between you as he moved his arm back, and you felt his hips rock up into you. His cock was impossibly hard. The length you observed as you ground your hips down to meet his made your pussy clench around air. "Use me."
A breathless laugh escaped Seonghwa and his mouth found yours again, winding a hand through your hair to press you into him.
You arched into him, already a mess in your panties. One of your hands cupped his jaw while the other snaked down to his waistband, jutting under the elastic.
But Seonghwa's fingers clasped your wrist and stopped your downward journey. "Are you really just that needy for cock, baby?" he teased.
You bit your lip before looking up at him through your lashes. "For your cock, Hwa."
Your words had him groaning and sliding you against him for friction once. Twice.
His eyes darkened and suddenly his face was sharp, brows narrowed in concentration as he leaned back to remove his shirt.
You blinked before following suit, divesting your top and reaching to unlatch your bra.
"Wait," he interrupted, one hand stopping yours. "That's for me."
You licked your lips and stopped, letting him guide you through whatever his vision was.
He lifted you up again, hands firmly steering you by the waist. You found yourself standing, staring up at him in confusion.
You found his dark eyes piercing through you so intensely your mouth went dry. "You want my cock, princess?" he asked.
You nodded.
"On your knees, then."
You swallowed and obeyed easily, sinking to the carpet of your room and letting your hands trail down his thighs as you went.
"Show me just how bad you want it, baby," he instructed.
You wasted no time unbuttoning his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. You could see the bulge of his cock through his briefs, the tip barely contained by the elastic as it fought for any slack in the material. You brushed your palm against the length of him, proud when a shudder rumbled through him.
You exhaled completely before reaching doing and freeing him, shoving the elastic down. Your inhale, as you'd expected, was so sharp your ribs hurt.
You'd seen his cock three times before now, but not this close. And you swear, even this morning, it hadn't been so engorged-- the puffy red tip wasn't this angry and leaking pre-cum like a steady dripping faucet.
Seonghwa said nothing, just let you admire and explore as you brought up a hand to finally hold it. The feel of it--the velveteen skin, the spongy, resilient shaft, the girth so wide you could just barely get your fingers to close around it--had your core trembling. Your pussy twitched and you could feel your heartbeat in your clit.
When you began to stroke it, dragging a firm grip up and down his length, squeezing at the tip on the way up, he finally broke his silence with a guttural moan.
"Mmh, Y/n," he sighed, dragging a hand through your hair.
The weight of his hand in your strands had you letting out a moan of your own as you finally moved to bring your mouth to meet his dick.
Your tongue carved intricate lines up his length at first, letting your mouth start to fathom just how big he was. A particularly lewd stripe across the tip had him groaning and bucking up into the air, and you finally decided to have mercy on the man.
You took him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around your teeth and trying to relax your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula but for some reason this seemed to turn you on to no end. He was cock was just so perfect--so fleshy and veiny and long--that you wanted to stuff him as far down your throat as possible, gag reflex be damned.
When you found your physical limit, you let your hand wrap around the small portion you (sadly) couldn't manage to fit in the wet walls of your throat. Tears pricked at your eyes from the stretch in the back of your mouth and how often you had to suppress a cough. You finally moved, letting him thrust shallowly as you found a rhythm.
"You feel so good, baby," Seonghwa grunted as he appeared to turn red from trying to not fuck into your mouth wildly. "Fuck, look at you. Can't even take me all the way and you're crying. So beautiful like this."
His hand carded through your hair while the other turned white from gripping the sheets.
And as you got used to the feeling of his weighty member jammed down your throat, you wanted more. You'd told him exactly what you wanted and you hadn't even realized how literally you'd meant it.
"Seonghwa," you breathed, stopping just a moment and letting your tongue lathe over the tip, lips pecking and sucking at it hungrily while you caught your breath. "I told you. I'm yours. Use me. Please."
The man moaned, his high-pitched whine like heaven to your ears. "Okay, baby, whatever you say. Just tap my thigh if it's too much."
You nodded before taking him back in, heart leaping wildly with anticipation as his hand joined the other, fisting your hair.
As you took him again, breathing through your nose and not gagging as violently when he slid past your uvula, you felt his thrusts turn steadier. Rougher. Faster.
You moaned around him as he began to let go. Your lids struggled to stay open and you let him hold you up by your hair. Your panties were surely soaked through by now, but you refused to check. One hand wrapped firmly around the exposed base of his shaft and the other offered you some semblance of steadiness against his thigh.
"Fucking hell, you love this, don't you?" Seonghwa teased, voice hoarse. You looked up at him through tears and matted, sweat-soaked hair. "All this time and you just wanted to be a little cockslut for me, huh?"
The rush his words gave you was pure ecstasy and you did your best to nod as you moaned around him again in response. The vibration seemed to drive him mad and he tossed his head back before plowing into your mouth over and over.
"I'm gonna cum, Y/n, you're taking me so well," he said. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin. "Where can I cum, baby? Can I--Do you want to swallow? Wanna feel me explode in your mouth?"
You nodded again, tears streaking down your face now from his relentless pace. If you could, you'd want to stay like this forever, with Seonghwa fucking desperately into your mouth like he was stuffing a ragdoll.
For as much as you were supposed to use your autonomous robot, you sure liked it a lot better when he was using you.
Your nails dug into his thigh as he snapped into you and finally his thrusts went ragged. Panting, he called out to the air as he climaxed, "Y/n!" His grunts were light and breathy as he stuttered into your mouth, painting your throat white with synthetic semen.
As he pulled out, you managed to swallow, licking your lips and driving down the liquid with your own spit. You knew it was designed to be tasteless and yet, you swore it tasted faintly of familiar vanilla.
"God, you're just perfect. That was... fucking perfect," Seonghwa proclaimed as he came down, dick softening while he stepped out of his underwear and pants.
Dazed, you were surprised when you felt him suddenly kissing you. His arms wrapped around you, bringing you back up to stand, while his tongue darted around your mouth, tasting himself. You moaned into the sloppy kiss, suckling his bottom lip when you could and tracing his teeth with your tongue when his lips wanted more.
"So, you'll fuck me now?" you asked him hazily when you came up for air, your mind already back on the prize you'd initially set out for.
"Mmmh, soon," he answered vaguely, hands roaming around your skin now, fingers ghosting your straps and elastics. "I want to take my time undressing you. I want to touch you properly... Give you so many orgasms you can't think straight tomorrow."
On the one hand, you knew the slow experience promised to be mind-shattering. You'd die and come back a new woman. But you also just really wanted him inside your aching cunt, fucking you just as hard as he had your mouth--if not even more ruthlessly.
So you whined in response, high and nasally.
Seonghwa stopped, pulling back. You shivered from the loss of contact, about to protest, when you saw his stern gaze.
"You're being so impatient, love," he said, shaking his head. "It just means I'm going to go even slower."
You scoffed in denial but he was already moving, pulling down the sleek pants you'd worn for dinner. You stood in front him in your underwear, a lacy set you may or may not have thought way too long about while getting ready.
He crouched by you, helping you step out of your pants, and stayed kneeling, forehead leaning into your soft thigh. He sighed, one hand coming to stroke languidly across the skin there.
"Let me savor this," he said, deep voice vibrating across your thigh. "Let me savor you."
He didn't need a response, not a verbal one anyway, to start planting kisses on your bare skin, hands traveling up to cup and squeeze your ass. You keened forward, steadying yourself with your hands in his hair.
And then his nose was at the elastic edge of your lace underwear, tip running along the seam like a magnet. He stopped at the bottom, where the plush folds of your labia met and dripped wet with arousal.
You weren't prepared for him to take a long, purposeful whiff, nose pressed into you so hard you were sure it would come back damp.
"You smell so good, baby, so plush and sweet and creamy," he said, voice thundering across your clothed pussy. You shuddered violently, the scene playing out below you somehow more erotic than when he'd been fucking your esophagus silly. "Let me see if it tastes the same" he mused.
Your eyes lost focus as he swiped his tongue along your soaked underwear. Your hands gripped his hair roughly when he used his tongue to part your folds, panties so wet it was hardly challenge for him.
You were sure you were moaning, panting some sort of incoherent dribble at that point, but when the lithe muscle found your clit, you couldn't contain the lewd wails that clawed out of your chest.
"Fuck, Hwa, please," you gasped, hips buzzing with need.
He answered with another lick up your nub through the fabric, followed by his lips sucking a ring around the bundle of nerves. You cried out, bucking into his lips and nose.
"Seonghwa, please," you begged, grabbing at his hair desperately, "I can't take it."
To your horror, this was apparently not the right thing to say. You looked down and saw him smiling sadly, pitifully, up at you.
"Oh, love, I know you can," he said, nipping superficially at the tops of your thighs. "In fact, you're going to cum just like that, with my tongue through your panties."
You whimpered immediately at his words and he got to work just as fast, his tongue finding your clit through the fabric again. You writhed, bucking under his hold, but his fingers were firm around your hips.
It was agony at first, if you were honest. The fabric was too starchy and your arousal hadn't leaked that far up yet. But Seonghwa was impossibly skilled, sliding the slick from your cunt upward with every lick and adding to the moisture with his own dripping tongue.
And then it was bliss--the material just wet enough to strike the perfect balance of friction, his tongue warm and fast and precise.
You were a mess in just minutes, moans dragged out of you by his mouth. It was maddening that he was just using that one muscle. His fingers remained idle on your hips, holding you in place, and his lips only occasionally brushed you. And yet you were fighting against his hold to grind your hips against his tongue, to search for more wetness, more friction, more of him--just more--
And then you were cumming, spilling through your underwear in a way you never had before, soaking them so thoroughly it was obscene. He held you through it, lips sucking in time with you hips, until you stilled.
"You--Do you normally squirt?" Seonghwa asked, voice taught and panting.
Your chest heaved as you looked down to find him covered in slick and sweat and some other clear liquid you'd never seen come out of you before.
"N-No," you answered, feeling a tad lightheaded.
As if he could read your mind, Seonghwa was by your side instantly, helping you lie back in bed. As you got comfortable in the pillows, he peeled your underwear down and off, discarding the drenched fabric onto the floor.
And finally, his mouth was at your chest, trailing kisses from your navel up toward your sternum. You could see how hard he'd gotten again, could feel his cock brush against your legs, and your cunt throbbed with anticipation.
But Seonghwa, true to his word, was hellbent on taking the evening very slowly.
"My beautiful princess," he murmured, kissing the exposed top of your breast. "Squirting for me when I haven't even touched you properly."
One hand found its way under your back, deftly untying the knot you'd put there earlier that afternoon. He clamped the lace fabric between his teeth and tugged slowly downwards, exposing your breasts with a brutal patience.
And when the garment was off, he looked down as if to survey his work, gliding his hands across your skin appreciatively. His fingers found a nipple, working the bud to a hardened point. You exhaled shakily, not sure how long you could keep from begging for him to fuck you.
"One more with my fingers, love," he announced like he was calling you to dinner.
A finger plunged into your folds and you arched into his touch. Your entrance spasmed around the tip of his finger and you let out a groan, low and filthy.
"You're so damn wet for me, baby," he remarked, letting his finger circle your ring of muscle. The motion had you bucking off the bed, desperate for him to be inside you. "Shh, wait, patience. Have you learned nothing, Y/n?"
This got you to be still, the threat of drawing out the process even longer stopping you cold. You shivered at the satisfied laugh that left him when you submitted to his supplication.
"Good girl. Here," he said before plunging his finger in you, a second one following shortly thereafter.
His pace was thankfully faster than if you'd been impatient with him again, that was for sure, and his fingers curled deliciously at the top of his thrusts. You groaned, chanting his name over and over as he worked on you.
Your hands found him, the planes of his muscles and the soft curtain of his hair, desperate for something to cling to. As he tilted his plane of attack upward, insistent on finding that fleshy spot within you, you clung to his arm and neck for stability. His motions quickly had you at the edge of your next climax.
"Hwa, I'm--fuck, right there! You feel so good," you panted.
He looked up at you, finally finding your eyes again after staring at your leaking, swollen pussy for minutes now. "Show me how good it feels, baby. Cum around my fingers like you'd cum around my cock."
His nasty words already had you arching, but suddenly his thumb was on your clit and you were moaning, jetting past a point of no return.
You saw stars as you came, crying out his name as you clenched down on his fingers, trapping them in your walls. He helped you ride through wave after wave, fingers only stilling when your grip relaxed and your hips found the bed again.
"You're crazy, Hwa," you stated, barely having the energy to drag a hand through his hair.
"Mmhmm," he acknowledged. "Crazy for you."
Your heart swelled as he swooped down to capture you in another kiss. This time it was softer, more intentional, like he was giving you a sacred promise. You let him love you with his lips, let him explore your mouth and cheeks, chin, and throat, collarbones and shoulders.
And when your heart was beating normally again, he got on all fours, positioning himself in between your legs.
"Are you ready, love?" he asked.
"Take me, Hwa," you answered, wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought maybe his dirty mouth had rubbed off on you because you found yourself whispering in his ear, "Fuck me so hard San and S/n don't even have to ask if we're together."
He whined and you flushed, loving the way his sounds hit your ears like a melody. He obeyed effortlessly, plunging into you with a careful first thrust.
You were more than prepared when he entered you and the moan that left you when he fit all the way in to the hilt was positively sinful. He had you delightfully full and the stretch was so good the pain doubled instantly as pleasure.
"I love you, Y/n," he stated again before diving down to kiss you again. He thrust in slowly, letting your slick squelch around him obscenely. "I love you for waiting. For setting boundaries and finally trusting me. I wouldn't want to have you any other way."
"I love you, too, Hwa," you echoed, looping your arms around his neck. He sped up incrementally, letting you both adjust to the pace slowly. "I love you for being so patient. For letting me take my time and--ah," you squirmed as he hit that spot within you that had you seeing white, "And for helping me face my f-fears."
He kissed you again, raw and savage. With the shared confession hanging in the air, the atmosphere turned hot and yearning.
"Fuck, Seonghwa," you moaned as he ramped up to full thrusts, balls slapping against your ass with every snap of his hips. "You feel so fucking good!"
"You do, too, love," he answered, already breathless and ragged. "You look so beautiful getting pounded like this. I wanna stuff you full, princess, 'wanna get that reproduction upgrade and give you babies."
The thought of him spilling inside you, of him actually being capable of getting you pregnant, had you spiraling dangerously close to another orgasm.
"Shit, yes, Seonghwa, please, wanna get bred by you, please--" you sobbed out, filter completely absent.
He stopped abruptly and manhandled you again. "All fours," you heard him bark out, voice strained and broken.
You shakily found the mattress on your hands and knees and presented your dripping hole for him nicely, ass in the air.
A hand came down and smacked your ass. You yelped, but it was swallowed by the rush of air you inhaled when another slap came down--this time on your cunt. "So filthy for me," Seonghwa panted. "So naughty. My sweet girl wants to get bred like an animal? I can arrange that just fine."
And then he was fucking into you from behind, hands firmly on your hips dragging you back and forth, impaling you on his rock-hard cock. You could feel how ridiculously hard he was--how thick and angry the tip probably was--how much pre-cum he was probably spilling into you already--and your walls clenched.
"Fuck!" he yelled, hips stuttering. "You like that, princess? Like getting bred like a fucking slut? Like when I fuck you from behind like a beast? Like a machine?"
You slumped into the bed, arms unable to keep yourself supported. Your mind was half gone, breathing hard and limbs gelatinous. All you could do was take the raw battering he was giving you. As you relaxed, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth as you opened it to moan, the angle changed ever so slightly and your walls flexed as he hammered into your cervix.
At the same time, the angle let his scrotum scrape against your clit with every thrust, and you were moaning and whimpering into your pillows, screaming his name as your third orgasm built with a blooming pleasure.
"That's it, right? Your... cervix?" he asked in between breaths as he thrusted. "Right where I'll cum to fill you full of my kids?"
Your face contorted at his words and your gut flipped with heat. "Fuck! Yes, Hwa, right there!" you screamed out, sure he could hear you through the plush objects with just how loud you were.
And then you were cumming, walls clamping down on his cock so hard you thought you might cramp.
Seonghwa groaned, tossing his head back again as he came, too, filling you with the synthetic seed you suddenly desperately wanted to be real. It was hot inside you, hot enough to feel, and the sensation prolonged your orgasm. You rode wave upon wave, milking the man's cock for everything he had and more.
He shuddered over you when you were finally done, huffing and watching you appreciatively as you both panted for breath.
He turned you over gently and kissed the tip of your nose before pulling out finally. He stood and shook out his limbs, offering you a smile while disappearing into the bathroom. You caught your breath, body seeming to vibrate elatedly.
Seconds later, Seonghwa returned, rag in hand to clean you up. You let him lift your leg up over his shoulder and felt liquid drip out of your used hole.
"If that was real semen, I'd fuck it back into you with my fingers," he said, voice dead serious.
You shuddered under his gaze, half tempted to beg him to do it anyway.
But he dabbed at you with the rag before you could speak, carefully wiping away the warm liquid that spilled from your pussy as he shifted you slightly.
Within minutes, you were clean, dry, and warm against him with the lights off as you finally went to bed, sharing it as more than just friends. Or--at the very least--more than what you had been that morning.
"You were so beautiful today, love," he called out as he tucked you into his chest. "There, that makes seven times today. Better? Or should I call you beautiful even more tomorrow?"
You hummed into his collarbone and ran a hand haphazardly along his neck. "Mmm, more tomorrow," you mumbled as sleep threatened to take you.
"More tomorrow, then. It's a promise," he said. They were the last words you heard him say as you fell asleep in your bed that night.
You dreamed, blissfully, of a life with him. Of a world where your relationship was normal. One where he was not just a house husband, but a real husband.
You woke later, unsure of the time or why you'd been awoken. The sun had yet to rise and you blinked blearily to look around you.
There was a knock at the door.
Beside you, Seonghwa twitched awake. You shared a look of confusion before he went still.
"They're... here," he spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
"What? Who's they?" your brows furrowed as you flicked the lamp on.
The knock came again, this time followed by a muffled voice. You couldn't make out what was said, but Seonghwa surely could.
He jumped out of bed, not bothering to put any more than his sweatpants on.
"Hwa, what's happening?" you asked, heart racing as he flung open the bedroom door.
You grabbed your robe and hastily tied it, running out to follow him toward the front door.
You stopped when you saw that San had also gotten up, but your sister wasn't with them. You were about to ask what was happening when Seonghwa threw open the front door.
"What do you want?" he asked. You stepped up to greet the horde of people in black suits at your door, but Seonghwa was quick to put his arm out. "Don't. They're dangerous. They're--"
"Ma'am, are you Y/n L/n?" the man in front asked. You nodded slowly as he sent a gruff flick of his head to the men standing behind him. Then, suddenly, the men in suits were crossing the threshold and entering your apartment.
Chaos broke out immediately. Seonghwa and San jumped into action to stop the men, but it seemed their objective was subdue the droids anyway.
Your heart stopped as they held Seonghwa's hands together behind his back, forcing him to his knees. You dashed forward, his name on your lips, when two more men were suddenly at your side. They held onto an arm each and you looked up at them with disgust.
"Sorry for the intrusion, Miss L/n. I'm the Vice President of Continuing Autonomous Excellence at KQ Corp. Here's my card," the first man said, showing you his business card. Indeed, it looked like he was a high-ranking executive at the company that manufactured droids like San and Seonghwa.
You struggled against the men holding you again, not liking where this was going.
"I do apologize. There's no need to resist, dear. We'll be out of here before you know it." the man said, his breath as crusty as his aging skin. "You see, we received a tip earlier tonight that a model registered at this address--your house husband here, yes--has expressed emotions and behaviors outside the scope of its intended purpose."
"No," Seonghwa breathed, eyes going wide. You blinked between them, trying to figure out where this was going. But if it was anything like Seonghwa's face warranted, you already knew you didn't want to hear it.
The man continued. "And, what a surprise, the other model we received a tip on is also present! That makes things easy. We're just going to reset them, dear, and add our latest provisional patch to their code. For your security and safety, I assure you."
You froze at his words. "What... what do you mean? Reset? What does the patch do?"
The men in suits had already begun setting up in your kitchen, laptops in briefcases firing up long files of proprietary code.
"Yes, reset. In case you didn't read the fine print of your purchase agreement, all models are subject to factory reset in case of error. It will start his memory over, which can be annoying to retrain, yes, but we believe it's essential for the error that has occurred."
You opened and closed your mouth, fresh tears falling down your cheeks. You locked eyes with Seonghwa who regarded you silently, guilt and sadness overtaking his eyes.
"N-no, you can't," you breathed, pleading with the man in front of you. "You can't reset him. Please. What's the error? What happened?"
"We received an anonymous report that your house husband and this butler model here," he walked over, swiping a ruddy finger at San's nose, "have been going around saying they're in love," he ground out. "Not to mention the acts of violence."
"He--They are!" you protested. "They're in love, they feel it!"
The man shook his head, giving you a knowing, bittersweet look. "Is that what he told you?"
Your heart beat wildly in your chest. You felt like vomiting all over your entryway.
And just when you thought it couldn't get worse, your sister stumbled into the room, rubbing her eyes groggily.
"What's going on?" she asked.
The executive snapped his fingers and two of the men who'd set up camp in your kitchen immediately grabbed her.
"What the fuck? San? Y/n! Seonghwa! What the hell is happening? What--what are they doing to you?" she yelled.
By now, the men holding your droids down gripped a syringe in their hands, ready to sink long needles into their necks.
"No, please! Stop! You can't do this!" you pleaded. "I love him! You can't reset him, please! I need him! Just like he is now, I need him--please--"
You wheezed as the executive nodded and the neon green liquid was plunged into Seonghwa's neck. You folded. The men who'd started the encounter holding you back now had to hold you up.
"Y/n," Seonghwa spoke as the liquid seemed to affect him, eyes fluttering. "No matter what happens, I love you. Never forget that. I love you with everything that I am."
You screamed as hot tears tracked down your cheeks. You flailed in the suited men's grip but it was fruitless. You just let them hold you upright as you fell limp.
Beside you, you could make out San and your sister sharing last promises with each other, their words quieter than your shrieks of agony.
"I love you, too, Seonghwa, I--I'll love you forever," you choked out, hoping he heard you as his eyes closed.
When the droids went still in the men's grip, you bawled. The apartment was otherwise silent as the suits folded up their briefcases, securing their accessories like nothing had happened at all.
And when the men holding you let go, you sank to your knees on the ground. You didn't know what was happening with your sister--all you could focus on was him. Seonghwa. The man you'd entirely forgotten wasn't a man at all.
"Should be just a few minutes. If you experience any further errors, please give us a call," the executive said as the men piled out of your home. You made no move to acknowledge him, and you think he put his business card somewhere near the front door. You didn't know for sure. Certainly didn't care.
You crawled toward your house husband as the door closed. The world around you faded as you inched nearer, taking him into your arms while you waited for whatever the fuck just happened to come to fruition. Tears slipped down your face and onto his still-bare chest. You cried even harder as you took a sleeve from your robe to dab at it.
And finally, as you cradled his face, thumb tracing over the features you'd committed to memory at this point, his eyes opened.
He looked up at you, and as one hand reached for the one that held his face so tenderly, you had hope for all of one second. Then--
genre: comfort, kinda angst ig, suggestive towards the end
wc: ~1.0k
warnings: drugs and alcohol, panic attack, bad trip, greening out, throwing up, lmk if I missed anything
The room was hazy, and the feeling hadn't even hit you until you found yourself in Seonghwa's lap. Something told you this was about to be a long night. "Sorry," was all you could muster before your tongue was heavy in your mouth, and your lips felt glued shut. Why was there a stamina bar on your ability to speak now?
Tonight was the last party of the semester, and you decided that it was the perfect night to try getting crossfaded again. Unfortunately, this was a secret to your sweet boyfriend, and even to you up until you were 8 shots in. You just wanted to stand outside with your friends for a moment, but the alcohol had other plans, wanting company in its wake.
The music was excruciatingly loud, and everyone's voices were becoming more and more indecipherable. You felt like a husk of a person as the bright neon lights of the room blurred together, but the only thing that worried you was bothering your sweet boyfriend, who so graciously let his friends, your friends, and friends of those friends have a party in his place. How dare you get so fucked up that he can't enjoy his own party?
The only thing that drew you out of your downward spiral was Seonghwa gently shaking your shoulder. Green out avoided.
It felt so hard to keep your eyes open now, and even harder to keep tears from slipping out of them. It felt like you teleported every time you blinked, and every time, everyone's faces looked more and more concerned. Were you really that gone?
"Probably shouldn't have let her take such a huge rip, sorry man." Was that San's voice? Words made sense for once, and it just had to be San sealing your fate. The tears came back, but Seonghwa, ever so attentive and vigilant, was quick to disregard everything else and get you somewhere at least decently quiet.
His room. When the fuck did you get to his room? You were on the couch, then the hall, then San was talking. Oh.
Your furrowed brow was enough of a hint for Seonghwa to realize the gears were turning in your head. That machine was quickly shut down with silly YouTube videos on his phone. Green out avoided.
The music was quieter now, the lights weren't so bright anymore, and it smelled so much nicer. Then the door opened, and your head whipped around to see who it was. You were paranoid, but why? It was just Hongjoong and Yunho. Their faces looked concerned. That's why you were paranoid. Did you look like you were going to die or something? Were you going to die? Your heartbeat sure as fuck made it feel like you were.
And here we were. Third time's the charm, the charm being a panic attack you were too high to do anything about. It wasn't like it was your first time drinking or smoking, but you definitely weren't a pro like everyone else seemed to be, and definitely not in the case of mixing. Your hubris told you otherwise in the moment, though.
Being yanked upward into a sitting position didn't help your case, because when did you even lie down? The way everything spun and blurred sent an instant wave of nausea over you. The three of them were quick, much quicker than you could've been in this moment. Who got a trashcan? When did you even look like you were going to puke? It didn't matter once you were emptying your dinner into it.
Lying back down in Seonghwa's bed felt like heaven, but not for long. The thoughts were back, the sinking feeling returned, and your heart was still beating way too fast and hard for your liking. You kept telling yourself that you'd come down soon and that you'd be fine, but it was all lost when the shaking and twitching began.
Then, like finding an oasis in the desert, a blanket was pulled over you, a warm chest pressed against your back, and a screen was in your face again, now playing Animal Crossing videos. It wasn't enough, though. It was almost fully cemented in your mind that tonight was the night you died or lost your mind. The shaking persisted.
"I'm glad you're here with me." The words were soft in your ear.
"I really like when you're with me in my room." You were in his room with him. He pulled you closer, pressing soft kisses on your shoulder. He didn't completely hate you for ruining his night, and if he did, he wasn't showing it. What if he was just pretending for your sake?
"It was so loud out there," he continued, almost as if he could read your mind, "I prefer it here with you. It's comfortable." His words sounded kind of forced, but they felt like some sort of spell that made the high calm down.
His soft voice in your ear presented a different challenge now. That hazy pulsing feeling was going straight to your stomach now, and you were still too high for Seonghwa to even consider having sex with you. You felt like a pervert. Your boyfriend was here, trying his best to distract you from the impending doom you concocted for yourself, and all you could think about was him whispering in your ear while he pressed you into the mattress. Green out averted, but at what cost?
Closed mouths don't get fed, at least that's what you told yourself before murmuring out the words, "I'm horny," before your speaking stamina was depleted once more.
The soft laugh from behind you gave you all the answer you needed to know that you were correct in your assumption that your boyfriend was capable of doing the bare minimum. This double-edged sword was simultaneously the best and worst thing for you. You were too high to get fucked, but at least your boyfriend wasn't a monster, and now you had a motive to keep your sanity in check because it would be so cruel if you could never have sex with him again.
warnings: angst, smut, afab!reader, reader is a piece of shit, san is a piece of shit, infidelity (like a concerning amount lowkey), san reaaalllllyyyy likes married women, use of the word 'slut', penetration, marking, barely proofread, lmk if I missed anything
a/n: im actually gonna plug in my headcannons for elliott here. check out my second blog if you want, it's where I post things that aren't kpop related. there's mostly apex legends content on there
A faithful wife, a dutiful farmer, and a wonderful mother. That’s how the residents of Pelican Town would’ve described you. The man pressing your face into your husband’s old bed in his old beach cabin would say otherwise.
Elliott didn’t deserve this, and you knew that. He’d been nothing but furiously loyal to you, even limiting his contact with the only close friend he had in this ridiculously small town because you swore up and down that she was harboring secret feelings for him. Almost all of his poetry was dedicated to you, sonnets upon sonnets of him declaring his life as yours. He wasn’t even bad at sex. He’d finely tuned himself into being the perfect partner just for you.
Maybe that’s why the new man who moved to town was so appealing to you. He didn’t revolve his whole life around you. You were a quick fuck for him. He called you the slut you were. You weren’t even the only woman he fucked. Neither you nor Willy missed the way Caroline stumbled out of that rickety old cabin just before everyone gathered to watch the Moonlight Jellies.
Everyone felt the shift when San moved in. Everyone’s eyes were on him the same way they looked at you when you first moved to your grandpa’s farm. He was big, almost all of his shirts clung to him a little too tightly. He was kind, helping everyone around town. He was friendly, he got along with almost everyone he encountered, somehow more easily than you had when you came. But his attention seemed to have a preference.
At first it was easy to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was just being friendly and helpful, right? But when he seemed just a little too enthusiastic to help Jodi carry her groceries back to her home, or when he frequented Pierre’s, flaunting his appreciation for Caroline’s green tea, or when he spent long hours helping Robin construct buildings on your farm, there were plenty of whispers. You weren’t an exception with him always seeming to show up every week to help tend to all the crops — oftentimes without a shirt — much to Elliott’s dismay.
“You know how hot it gets out on the farm, Elliott,” you’d say, doing your best to quell his suspicions. Even still, the way San hoisted you up onto his broad shoulder to tug hard-to-reach fruits from the trees in the greenhouse, even though there was a perfectly good ladder, seemed unnecessary to him.
San was the secret everybody knew. He’d banged every woman in town between the ages of 25 and 40 at least once, all but Robin. She had some semblance of loyalty, much more than you could’ve spared at this point. Especially not when San had you bent in half with your knees by your head.
The bed creaked loudly under the strain of San’s exertion on your body. Moans that should’ve been saved for your loving husband spilled out for a man who saw you as another conquest.
His hands wandered over your body, eventually finding purchase on your thighs as he hiked your legs up onto his broad shoulders that he let you climb up onto to pluck the pomagranates you gave your husband. He picked up his pace, and his fingers dug into the delicate skin of your inner thighs, leaving marks that you'd be hiding for the next week or so.
Filthy words usually spilled out of his mouth, but today he was silent, maybe with his mind on other women, maybe with his mind on you, but who were you to theorize or even be jealous?
But the way his head was thrown back, and the way he came so fast, and the way he kept going through his own sensitivity to get you off at least let you pretend that you were special. It was easy to convince yourself that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't just getting off on the sight of your wedding band as you gripped his sheets.
The truth was, you were his favorite fantasy. He brought you back to the cabin that you honestly shouldn't have stepped foot in after Elliott sold it and fucked you right on the bed your husband used to fuck you on. The thought of corrupting and replacing sweet memories you'd made right here with Elliott made his dick harder than any of the other women who deemed their own beds as sacred.
When all was said and done, there was no aftercare, no romance, just the walk of shame through town after he waved you goodbye and promised he’d be there next week to help you harvest all of the strawberries. You’d just walk back to the man you promised you’d love forever, the father of your two children, just to blame the funny walk on an injury sustained in the mines.
That wasn’t enough to explain the lack of grime that usually accompanied your trips to the mines, or why your pickaxe never left its spot in the dirt by the shipping box that day. Elliott didn’t press the issue, though. He could feel the truth deep in his gut, but he didn’t want to know it, especially when you were all he had left. He couldn’t return to the cabin on the beach; it’d been taken over and defiled. You had two small kids who needed a father. His whole life was your life, but with every passing day, it became more and more obvious that yours wasn’t his.
➾In Which: Two things get passed around; the joint — and you.
RATED XXX. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.
❥Park Seonghwa x Kim Hongjoong x Kang Yeosang x fem reader
♫In Your Fantasy - ATEEZ♫
➯a/n: AH AH AH AH NOBODY LOOK AT ME NOBODY TOUCH ME IM HEJFIWBDKEQ- i really liked the new songs and im totally normal about them <3. totally not foaming at the mouth. totally not losing my mind. totally —
(>ᴗ•)genre: pure, filthy, unfiltered debauchery
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: i am ovulating. strap the FUCK in lovelies. ROUGH, MEAN, DIRTY. hongjoong and reader in an established relationship, he shares her <3 (he's still possessive though dw), implied chubby reader (squishable boobs, thighs, and tummy), doms hj and ys / switch (?) sh / sub reader, incredibly filthy but also completely safe: hongjoong is much more sober and makes sure reader feels safe / doesn't do anything she's uncomfortable with, that being said: free use reader gets her shit rocked, sub space, unprotected; pull out method + (1) creampie, orgasm control + edging + overstim, dry humping, high as some mfing kites, spit, messy kissing, face fucking, face sitting, breath play, giggly moments, fingering, hair pulling, m x m; kissing + grinding + sexual tension, cum eating, dacryphilia, manhandling, yeosang is a mean little weirdo (i luv him), praise + degradation, a few light spanks / slaps, park seonghwa's oppa kink. pet names + name calling: (dumb, little, sweet, messy, dirty, stupid, pretty, needy) baby, angel, slut, cumdump, fleshlight, love, girl, fuck(er), dummy / oppa, sir, joong(ie), sang(ie), hwa, pervert
"Are you sure she's okay with this?" Seonghwa asks while he nervously bites at his thumb, looking over to where you sit with Yeosang at the table.
Your fuzzy socked feet pulled up on the chair, your chin on your knees as you roll a large joint; making small talk with the younger member. You don't even look the slightest bit nervous or shy despite what you all know is coming.
Yeosang looks a bit more shy than usual, and he keeps his eyes locked onto your nimble fingers after you caught him staring at your nipples through your thin tank top.
"Yeah," Hongjoong answers simply, dropping his phone in his lap and leaning back to look over at you with a small smirk. "She's excited."
"What about you?"
"Me?" Hongjoong raises a brow, "what about me?"
"Are you... excited?"
"Oh," he breathes, before a large smile spreads across his face, "very. She's actually super slutty, I want to see how she acts with you guys. I bet she'll cum s-"
"Hongjoong!" Seonghwa yells, eyes wide and hand over his mouth, "you can't call her that-"
He laughs, meeting his eyes with yours as you and Yeosang look over to the commotion, "baby, come here for a second?"
You slide the small tray with the paper and buds on it to Yeosang before you hop down and come over with a smile. "What's u-"
"Get on your knees." Hongjoong says flatly, staring up at you.
You can feel Yeosang staring at you from the table, and Seonghwa is looking up at you with eyes still wide.
You sink to your knees without a second thought, even if it does make your heart beat a little faster. "You still want to-" Your boyfriend goes to speak, when you cut him off.
Nodding eagerly, "I really do."
"You do?" And you nod. "Because you're my slut, right?" Another nod — and you hear Seonghwa's breathing picking up a bit. "And you like it when I tell you what to do?"
Seonghwa thinks he might explode as you keep nodding your head obediently, knelt between them; a bit more towards Hongjoong. He's never seen someone so... pliable. It's making his pants tight around the crotch.
"And you really, really like it when I use you as my personal fleshlight, don't you, baby?"
"Yes-"
"Give me a kiss," he doesn't even give you time to respond before he's leaning down and grabbing you by the throat, lips pressed to yours roughly. It's even rougher than usual now that his friends are watching. Like he's showing off.
Because he most certainly is.
He pulls back and spits into your gaped mouth, spreading the saliva that misses all over your chin as you look up at him dazed. "You want to be their fleshlight, too?"
"Yeah," you pant quietly, "I want to make them feel good."
"How are you going to do that, sweet girl?" He smiles, devilish under the surface as he feels Seonghwa shifting on the couch next to him.
"Let them use me."
"Yeah? C'mere," he says softer, pulling you up to straddle him, "you want us to use you however we want?" He hums as he rubs your thighs gently.
"Yes."
"Do you want me to stay sober so I can make sure you don't do something you'll regret?"
You hesitate for a moment before you nod, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, "a little bit. Just, not as high?"
Yeosang almost scares Seonghwa with how he's snuck up on you all, holding out the lit joint to him as he blows the smoke out of his lungs.
He takes it quickly so he can calm his nerves about the whole thing, taking a long puff while listening to Hongjoongs soft reassurances to you.
"I can do that, baby," he whispers as he wraps his arms around you, voice low in your ear — but purposefully not so low that his friends can't hear him. "I'm going to share you, but don't forget who you belong to, okay? I'm the only one you share your bed with. I'm going to let my friends use your little pussy and when they're done, I'm going to fuck you so good you forget what they even felt like inside of you. Do you understand?"
"Sounds good, Joongie," you reply airily, your cheeks suddenly hot from his words; and from the way you can feel their eyes on your lower back as Hongjoong slides his hands under your shirt to caress your back.
"And if you want them to quit, you let me know. My girl comes first. Yeah?"
"Okay," you nod, looking down at him as he leans back, "love you, Joong."
"Awe, I love you too," he says with a peck to your lips, hands on your hips as he pulls away, "now show them how much of a slut you are."
You and Seonghwa both gasp as Hongjoong all but throws you into his lap; his hands clumsily coming to steady you by your waist. "H-hey, Oppa."
It's his turn to feel hot, ears practically burning as you settle over his lap; just as you were atop your boyfriend. "Hey..."
"Don't be shy, love," Hongjoong says as he takes the joint from his lips, having taken a small hit — just like you asked of him. He leans and places it between your lips, allowing you to suck on it as he says, "get nice and high for us. You always get so wet~"
"Fuck, I can't believe this is happening," Seonghwa groans, rubbing his face.
"Why not?" Yeosang asks as he sits on his other side, eyeing you slowly as Hongjoong holds the joint for you to take another hit. "If you don't want to touch her, let me."
Seonghwa stops you when you go to move towards him; hands firmer on your sides. "Don't-" He hesitates, "I want you to grind on me."
Hongjoong smirks as you immediately start moving your hips, your hands settled on your thighs — afraid to touch. "You can touch, can't she, Hwa?" He reaches between you and hands Yeosang the joint.
He looks between you before nodding quickly, "yes- yeah, I don't mind."
"Of course you don't," Yeosang chuckles before taking a quick hit, "pretty girl grinding on your cock, you'd be stupid if you were complaining."
His casual calling of you 'pretty' makes you even more shy, whining as you move to press your face into Seonghwa's chest; holding onto his shirt as you swirl your hips lightly.
"Awe, my little slut is shy, huh?" Hongjoong giggles, giving a small spank to your ass and making you jump. "I know you can do better than that, don't embarrass me now."
"Fucking-" Seonghwa gasps, instinctively grabbing at you as you grind into his growing bulge — deep and perfectly paced, "oh my god~" He bites his lip quickly, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling.
"See, that's more like it," Hongjoong hums, rubbing your sore cheek, "be a good whore for Oppa~"
Seonghwa snaps his head down to glare at him, mouth open to chastise him when you give a particularly nice roll of your hips and all he can get out instead is a moan. "Oh, shit-" He grips your hips, guiding you to repeat the motion, "like that."
Yeosang places the blunt in his lips, letting it hang as he stands up; tired of watching. He quickly unbuttons his pants, pulling his zipper down to give some relief to his aching cock. He comes behind you, gathering up your hair before pulling you up, "come here, slut."
Hongjoong laughs at the lost look in your eyes as you come up; inebriated brain lagging behind as you catch up to someone else calling you that.
"Finish it off," Yeosang hums as he places the joint into your mouth, a good four hits still on it. "I want to you to be so high you forget where you are when I fuck your brains out."
Seonghwa pants out a laugh as you cough, shocked by his bluntness so much that your hips still. Hongjoong does the same, adding to your shock when he smacks your ass again, "did we tell you to stop, dummy?"
You steady yourself with your hand on Seonghwa's stomach, the other pinching the joint as you catch your breath. "Sorry..."
"It's okay, pretty baby," Hongjoong leans and kisses your cheek as Seonghwa starts pulling your hips again, "now, do what Yeosang asked. Don't disappoint our guests."
You nod, shakily bringing the joint back to your lips and taking a large puff.
"She really will do anything you ask, won't she?" Yeosang asks, eyes filled with lust and curiosity as he watches you finish off the joint.
Hongjoong only smirks in response while he takes the ending from your lips, tossing it to the ashtray. "Baby," he tilts his head, and you look to him immediately, "open your mouth."
You do so with zero pause, tongue rolled out.
Seonghwa and Yeosang curse in tandem, the latter pulling you faster along his bulge as the lewd gesture makes his cock twitch.
Hongjoong stands up, tilting your head back slowly to look at them, "spit in her mouth."
Yeosang's eyes widen slightly, "really?"
"Yeah, really. She'll swallow it like a good girl," he looks to you pointedly, silently telling you to make him proud.
You hum affirmatively, locking eyes with him as he leans closer; "you'll let me spit in your mouth while you grind on someone else's cock? All while your boyfriend watches?" You nod, immediately met with his hand gripping your face as he spits right onto your tongue.
All three watch in various degrees of awe as you swallow it quickly, tongue stuck back out with a soft, "ah."
"Fuck- sorry, Hyung," Yeosang mumbles quickly as he leans down and wraps his arms around you, yanking you from Seonghwa lap and making him groan. "My turn," he breaths out as he falls back onto the couch, settling you in his lap.
Hongjoong sits next to Seonghwa, patting his shoulder with a grin, "don't worry, she's got stamina. We'll all get to use her."
"You asshole, Yeosang," he huffs softly, resting his head against the cushion and watching your hips closely as you grind down on his exposed boxers; it's almost like he can still feel it if he thinks hard enough.
"You were taking too long, I want some of her too," Yeosang pouts, but he definitely doesn't mean it — not when you're rubbing your clothed heat over his cock so deliciously.
You whine quietly as your high from the last few long hits sneaks up on you; making you light headed, along with the pleasure you're getting from pressing your clit onto him.
"Feeling good, baby?" Hongjoong asks quickly, guiding your head to rest on Yeosang's shoulder. He leans to your level and smiles as you nod quickly, "yeah? Are you getting needy?"
"Yeah," you admit tentatively, grabbing Yeosang's biceps as he grinds up into you.
"Needy little slut," Hongjoong coos as he slides his fingertips down and slips your tank tops sleeves over your shoulders. "Lift her up, Yeosang."
He groans a bit, but then he sees his intentions and moves quickly. Standing up, he steadies you with a hand on your lower back; the other carefully holding your head to his shoulder after it rolls.
Hongjoong rubs your arms softly before pulling your shirt down to your hips. Seonghwa leans forward, elbows on his legs as he watches closely, only able to catch a glimpse of your chest with the way Yeosang holds you upright.
"You're so wet," Hongjoong smiles at the evidence of how much you're enjoying yourself already, sliding all of your clothes down your legs in one slow pull; leaving you in nothing but your socks. "Come here, pretty, let me show you off~"
Yeosang pretty much falls back into his seat, eyes trailing every inch on your body wildly as Hongjoong rubs up and down your waist slowly.
"Good goddamn," Seonghwa whispers, swallowing thickly. "What the fuck." It doesn't really sound like a question, more of a way to express his disbelief as he soaks in every detail he can and commits it to memory — because there's no way he'd not be jerking off to this for years to come.
"Isn't my slut just gorgeous?" Hongjoong slips a hand to your cunt, cupping and squeezing it softly and making you gasp; grabbing at his arm for something to hold onto. "Needy little baby~" He giggles as you pout up at him beggingly.
"Please-"
Seonghwa stands up quickly, the simple sound of you begging — not even desperately or urgently — making his willpower completely disappear.
"You are such a tease, do you know that?" He says as he sandwiches you between them, suffocating you with his presence as he cups your jaw, still admiring your body. "Do you know how long I've wanted to fuck you? But, no, I just had to be a good person and not bend over my best friends girl." He meets your fuzzy gaze, slipping his hand under Hongjoongs as he grins; watching you both closely.
"R-really?" You ask shakily, feeling shrunken under his suddenly intense and dominant eyes.
"Dead fucking serious," he nods, slipping his middle finger into you and groaning as he feels around slowly; savoring the softness of your insides and making you tremble in the process. "I've jerked off to you so many times," he admits quickly, "thinking about how lucky Joong is, how he gets to fuck you. I know we all have."
"Maybe I'll invite them next time," Hongjoong purrs in your ear, massaging your breasts slowly, "would you like that? Each of my members getting a chance to feel that wet little cunt?"
"Yes-" You gasp as Yeosang sneaks up on you, gripping your jaw and turning you to look at him.
He looks from you to Hongjoong for a moment, and when he nods; Yeosang leans forward and kisses you. Messy, rough, completely overpowering your mouth with his and shoving his tongue between your lips.
You grab onto Seonghwa's side for stability as your legs wobble; another one of his fingers slipping into you. "Look at my messy slut," Hongjoong moans, grinding against your ass. When he catches your fingers raising shakily, he grabs Yeosang by his hair roughly; making him hiss. "Let her breathe," he says before pulling him to his lips instead.
He's a bit shocked at first, but he's quickly leaning into it; fighting against his tongue with his own.
You and Seonghwa both watch, and he can't help but giggle a bit. "God, I can't fucking believe this," he repeats his earlier sentiment.
"Hwa," you pant quietly, looking up at him with your chest heaving softly in Hongjoong's grasp.
His eyes widen a bit, nodding quickly. "What- what is it, are you ok-"
Hongjoong pulls away from Yeosang, looking at you with breakneck speed.
"Will you... maybe, eat me out?"
Hongjoong sighs with a laugh of relief, squeezing your chest almost affectionately. "Ah, you litter fucker, you scared me."
"Sorry, Jo- ah!" You squeal as Seonghwa drags you away, throwing you onto the couch.
"Sit up," he rushes, pulling you up to face the wall before all but falling to the floor.
"Eager," Yeosang laughs, licking his puffy lips as he comes to sit next to you.
He lifts your hips and settles his face below you, moaning from the anticipation alone. "A-are you go-"
He cuts you off, "I'm gonna sit you on my face, yeah?" Before you have a chance to respond, he's pulling you down by your hips and holding you tightly while he lands a fat lick up the length of your cunt. "Oh, holy fuck..."
"Don't get addicted," Hongjoong warns him playfully, a hint of seriousness underneath. "She'll get you."
Yeosang chuckles as you grab the back of the couch; Seonghwa immediately licking all over your dripping pussy with an eagerness that makes you tremble. "You like that?" He hums, tilting his head and cooing when you nod quickly. "Yeah, I bet you do, slut~"
"Fuck-" You go to collapse onto the cushion when Hongjoong grabs the back of your neck and holds you up.
"No hiding, remember?"
"Sorry, sir," you apologize with a small whine as Seonghwa sucks on your clit.
"Can't take it anymore," Yeosang snaps as you utter the title, yanking his boxers down and groaning loudly. Grabbing your wrist, he drags your hand over to his hard length, "take care of this, all your fucking fault anyway."
"Mh, go on, baby," Hongjoong encourages you as you hesitate, going so far as to lean over and spit in your hand, "make him feel good."
It's hard to think of how to do that — with his grip on your neck and Seonghwa's tongue in your cunt and Yeosang's powerful gaze locked in on you and your brain entirely too high to process so much information at once.
"Hey," Yeosang notices you faltering and slaps you, gently; just harsh enough to bring you back to reality and listen to his more direct command, "jerk me off."
You swallow thickly, and you're still able to spit into your hand; letting it join Hongjoongs before you wrap your hand around his cock. His head falls back with the simple touch, a groan breaking in his throat as you slowly slide your hand up and down his length.
"You're doing so good, my dirty girl~" Hongjoong grins as he watches Yeosang slump from your attention to his cock — practically melting.
"Can I cum?" You look up at him, eyes wet and a pout on your lips.
"Awe, of course, you needy girl," he slides his hand around and grabs the front of your throat, choking you, "fucking cum all over Hwa's face, why don't you? Show him how nice it tastes."
You manage to give Yeosang a few more strokes before you have to let go, grabbing his arm and squeezing it tightly as you do just as your boyfriend says — cum all over his best friends face.
It's so intense that you lose all of the air in your lungs, a pathetic whimper all that you can manage as it washes over you.
Yeosang is shoving his bottoms off as he watches you, locking eyes with Hongjoong briefly before he snatches up your twitching form; leaving Seonghwa panting heavily and his face blissed out like he just came.
"Shit, you alive down there?" Hongjoong laughs, kneeling down and straddling his lap. "Told you she's slutty~"
He's completely breathless, grabbing onto him out of pure instinct and forcing him down to sit on his begging cock, "Joong, please-"
They both look over as you gasp; watching Yeosang push his fat tip into your cunt. He has you perched in his lap, head held to his shoulder once again, telling you, "take it." Before he slams his length into you with one rough thrust.
You scream into his shoulder, and Hongjoongs lips spread into a large grin as he registers your jumbled words. "Oh, fucking sweet hell! S'good!"
"Messy fucking fleshlight," Yeosang groans, gripping your hair tightly, "taking my dick no problem, so wet..." He closes his eyes, panting a few times while gathering himself.
"She's taking it all just like that?" Seonghwa asks in awe, hands still gripping Hongjoongs hips tightly.
"Course she is, my slutty little angel," Hongjoong reaches and smacks your ass; making both of you gasp, because the impact makes you clench around him.
"Fuck-" Yeosang curses with his jaw clenched, wrapping his arms around you tightly before pounding into you mercilessly.
You kick your feet uselessly, balling up his shirt in your fists as you moan into his neck; hiding your face there.
"Can you handle it, baby?" Hongjoong calls out, laughing along with Seonghwa as you quickly yell out:
"Fuck yes!"
"Good girl," he chuckles before looking back down to him, your arousal still gleaming on his chin. "Ah, she got you all messy," he says nonchalantly before leaning and licking up his chin, all the way to his lips; just hardly grazing the bottom one.
"Oh, fuck me," he sighs, eyes fluttering shut as Hongjoong laps up the rest of it before giving a small roll of his hips.
"That's her job," he giggles, sliding his hands up his chest, "unless you have something different in mind~" He whispers teasingly while wrapping his hands around his neck — just barely.
Seonghwa whimpers: the sounds of you getting pummeled next to him, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, Hongjoongs weight against his cock, his hands around his neck is getting to be too much.
"You pervert," Hongjoong chuckles as he tightens his grip, "you really do want both of us."
"F-fuck, so what?" He says shakily, blush creeping up his face as he hears you yelling for Yeosang to let you cum.
"So," he opens his eyes quickly as he feels Hongjoongs breath on his lips, finding him nose to nose with him, "maybe I'll make that happen if you make my girl happy."
"You will?"
His answer comes in the form of a kiss — not dominance fighting like it was with Yeosang, but not quite loving like with you. More... experimental. Testing the waters with each other.
Hongjoong abandons his lips as he hears you whimpering, looking over to you quickly. "Pretty?"
"He won't let me cum!" You wail, clinging to Yeosang's shirt like a lifeline. "Please, Joongie, tell h-him to let me!"
Yeosang laughs, breathlessly as he continues to practically beat up your insides with his thick cock. "Beg a little more, I'll let you~"
"Yeosang, don't be a jerk. Let the poor girl-" Seonghwa gets cut off when Hongjoong slaps a hand over his mouth, leaving him a bit flabbergasted.
"Baby~" He coos, holding back his own laughter, "I'm not in charge of you right now." He always is, and he continues to be even as someone else is using you like their toy. But he likes seeing you throw your little fits from time to time. And he wants to see how you handle it. "You'll have to do what Yeosang asks."
"Please, please, please-" You do so immediately, pushing yourself up on his chest only to be met with an indifferent stare; only a small smirk playing on his lips.
"You call that begging? Hongjoong has been too soft with you for how big of a slut you are."
"Sang, pl-" He pulls you off of him, leaving you whining and pouting for him to keep going as he throws you to lay across the couch.
"You'll learn how to really beg if you want it so bad." He flips you onto your stomach, pounding back into you the second you land.
You shove your face into the cushion as you cry, kicking your legs until he grips your hair and reels you up. "Try again."
"Please, I want to-"
"Wrong." He says before letting you go, pushing your legs open with his until one of them dangles off the edge next to Seonghwa and Hongjoong.
"Yeosang!" You scream, "fuck! Please, pretty fucking goddamn please! I can't hold it, I need to cum, sir-"
You keep on rambling your pleas, but you've already satisfied him — so he slips a hand under your hips and circles your clit. "Cum."
"J- Ah, thank you!"
The way you clench and tremble around him, the way you hide in the cushion as you moan; it all almost makes him cum inside of you before he remembers Hongjoongs threats before they even set foot in your shared space.
"Shit-" He gasps, pulling out quickly and crushing you to the couch as he sits on the back of your thighs, fisting his cock quickly as he watches the way you twitch.
Seonghwa is practically drooling as he watches Yeosang's cum splatter on the expanse of your back, Hongjoong just the same.
He holds your hip in a way that must be his attempt at comfort as you both just stay for a moment and catch your breath.
"You okay, sweet girl?" Hongjoong whispers, crawling out of Seonghwa's lap and kneeling next to your head as you sniffle. You hold your hand out shakily, opening and closing it quickly. "Awe," he takes it fast, lacing his fingers with yours, "little fleshlight got her brains fucked out after just one round?"
You nod into the couch, sniffling.
"You want to keep on going?"
Again, you nod.
"Atta girl," he giggles, rubbing the back of your head gently as Yeosang stands up.
He hesitates a second, but then he leans down and moves your head to look at him. "Thanks," he says before leaning down and kissing your cheek; earning himself a smile. "You d-" He clears his throat as his heart skips a beat, "you did really good."
"Say thank you, baby," Hongjoong says softly, taking the tissue that Seonghwa offers him and wiping up your back while biting his lip.
"Thank you, Sangie," you moan softly, pushing yourself up on your shaky arms before pointing at Seonghwa.
He points towards himself as well, finger to his chest, "me?"
"Your turn."
"You don't need a break, angel?" Hongjoong hands the soiled tissue to Yeosang, and he's disappearing further into the apartment. "D-"
"No," you giggle, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his chin, "I'm ready for more. Plus, Oppa won't be rough with m-" A yelp slips past your lips as Seonghwa pulls you to the floor, cupping your head as you fall to the hard wood.
"You have got to stop calling me that," he groans as he slots himself between your legs, holding himself up with one hand while the other guides his cock along your soaked slit; impatiently pulled out of his pants.
"Sorry, sir-"
"Fuck," he whines, eyebrows pressed together, "that's even worse."
Hongjoong chuckles, coming to sit by your head as he frees his length. "I think you're making him shy, baby," he leans and pecks your lips while fisting his cock, breathing in your gasp as Seonghwa slides into you slowly. "That feel nice, hm? Needy little fleshlight~"
Seonghwa gasps as you clench around him, leaning his head against your shoulder with a low curse. "Oh, fuck, you feel so good..."
Yeosang falls back onto the couch, turning his head to watch; his dick already half-hard in his boxers again. "Pretty slut," he whispers, to no one other than himself, but given the way Hongjoongs eyes flick to him; he figures he heard.
He did — and a sick sense of pride is in his chest as he looks between Yeosang's spent form and Seonghwa's blissful face. All because of you.
He leans down quickly, taking your lips in his more roughly. Cupping your cheek and pulling one of your hands to his hard length, holding his hand over yours and using it to jerk himself off all while Seonghwa starts thrusting into you with a testing pace. "Good fucking girl," he groans into your mouth, nipping your lips, "being such a well behaved slut for us. Keep it up for me, yeah?"
"Yeah," you pant out with a nod, feeling dizzy and being thankful that Seonghwa is taking you flat on the floor so his thrust don't throw you around as much as he picks up his rhythm. "I wa-want some cum, Joongie."
"Where at?" He grins wide as he hears Seonghwa moaning into your shoulder; clearly very into your neediness in your fuzzy state of mind if the way he grips your hips says anything, if the way he starts pounding you just as hard as Yeosang did says anything.
"Ah," you tilt your head back a bit, your back arching off the floor as he prods your g-spot, opening your mouth wide.
"Oh, in here, dirty girl?" He teases, sticking two of his fingers into your mouth and pressing your tongue down before spitting into it.
Yeosang slides down, already freeing himself from the confines of his boxers and grabbing your other hand to mirror Hongjoong; jerking himself off and spitting into your open mouth as you moan.
"We're going to give you some cum, and you better keep it in your mouth until Hwa is done using your little pussy, okay? You understand me?" Hongjoong asks with a soft slap, moving your hand faster along his length.
"Mmf," you pout as Yeosang grinds his leaking tip on your heated cheek, trying to tilt your head and take it into your mouth — when Seonghwa grabs you by the base of your hair and pulls you back down.
"He's talking to you, baby," he says lowly against your throat, nickname slipping without his permission or his realization. And the way it makes you squeeze him makes him want to do it again and again. "Where's your manners at?"
"Fuck!" You writhe as he stills after a harsh thrust, pressing against everything inside of you that makes you drool; strings of saliva visible in your mouth as you open it wide and hum a, "mhm!"
"That's better, that's a polite little slut," he moans before nipping at your sweat sheened shoulder.
Hongjoong eyes him for a moment, biting his lip as he tries to decide if he's okay with how he's behaving. Seonghwa's never had a dominant bone in his body. Maybe you're such a good sub that you've brought it out of him, or maybe he's just never had the chance to be in control of someone and it's giving him a high that rivals the drugs in his system.
Either way, Hongjoong decides he likes it, because evidently so do you — uncontrollable moans muffled as Yeosang shoves his cock in your mouth and fucks the pocket of your cheek.
"F-fuck," he whines quietly, Hongjoong the only witness to his moment of sensitivity because Seonghwa is drunk on your pussy, and you're... "God, you're so pretty." He can't help but let out his thoughts under the influence of the joint and the pleasure just as much as the two of you are.
You blink up at him with teary eyes, eyelashes starting to dampen.
"Isn't she?" Hongjoong coos, petting your cheek and pressing against it as Yeosang fucks into it, making all three of you moan with the chain reaction he creates: Yeosang cumming into your mouth, you moaning and clenching around Seonghwa to beg silently for him to make you cum, and him burying his face in your chest as he fucks you even harder.
"Don't swallow, you little fucker, I see you thinking about it," Hongjoong warns with a cocky grin stuck on his face as he takes Yeosang's place; the overstimulated man falling to sit next to you all as he catches his breath.
"You've got two more loads coming, angel," he pulls your head to the side, telling you, "suck. And don't let any cum out or you're licking it off the floor."
You whine, but you do what he asks, suctioning your lips around him tightly so none of Yeosang's cum can drip out before you bob your head slowly.
Seonghwa pants heavily, chest heaving against you as he stills — he's so close to his own orgasm but he doesn't want it to end yet. He watches you suck on Hongjoong cock with what can only be described as heart eyes; and Yeosang is the same.
"What's wrong, little love?" Hongjoong whispers mockingly as your tears finally start slipping from your waterline. "Can't breathe with all that cum and cock in your mouth?"
You nod, slurping around him as some of the cum threatens to drop.
"No?" He moves you to lay your head flat again, straddling your shoulders as Seonghwa sits up and watches over his shoulder; gasping a bit shocked when he pinches your nose closed and starts fucking into your messy mouth. "Now you can't breathe, stupid slut. Keep fucking sucking- make me cum unless you want to pass out and have us use your defenseless little holes like an actual fleshlight."
You grab his thighs tightly, sucking as best you can while Seonghwa starts fucking you again; unable to stop himself as he watches the lewd scene. "Goddamn, Joong," he groans, "you're so mean to her."
"She likes it. Likes being put in her place, right?" He lets go of your nose and lets you breathe heavily through it, still obediently sucking at him. "Besides, aren't you the one beating up her pussy right now?" He chuckles as he hears another groan from behind him over the slapping of skin. Carefully, he wipes the sweat from your brows and cradles your puffy cheeks.
"I'm going to cum, don't you dare spill any and don't you dare swallow, either," he warns shortly before doing just what he says; moaning and letting his shoulders slump as he spills all of his release into your stuffed mouth.
You pant through your nose as he pulls away, jaw dropping open to show them the white pool in your mouth.
"Fucking-" The words die out on Seonghwa's tongue, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling you into his wild thrusts.
Yeosang licks his lips, eyeing you intently as you struggle to breathe with everything going on; lust still clear in his gaze.
Hongjoong moves off of you and swipes his hair back, taking a breath before he reaches down and circles your clit with quick and harsh movements, "cum for us, sweet girl~"
You choke as your pleasure breaks over you, gurgling and almost spitting the cum out before Yeosang leans quickly and slaps a hand over your mouth. "Keep it, baby. Taste us while you cum." Just like Seonghwa; the nickname flew out of his mouth without his consent or his knowledge — but Hongjoong catches it, and this time he doesn't hesitate to grin wide.
Your legs kick a few times before they fall uselessly, trembling as Seonghwa continues to fuck you through and past your mind-numbing orgasm while Hongjoong swirls his fingers on your messy clit.
"Oh, fffuck," Seonghwa moans, hands sliding up to your stomach and groping you, "ah, I want to cum so bad..."
"Not inside of her," Hongjoong warns quickly. No matter how much he's willing to share — he is the only one who gets to fill your pussy like that.
"G-god, I know," he says just as fast, hips stuttering and jolting into you like a wild animal, "but she practically beg-begging for it~ You're so. Fucking. Lucky." He growls between his teeth with a rough thrust to emphasize each word before suddenly pulling out; leaving you a trembling puddle as he climbs up your body hastily.
"Move," he grips Yeosang's wrist and pulls it away, opening up your messy mouth with a grip on your jaw. "Fucking hell," he gasps, jerking himself off quickly as you stare up at him with a dazed and content glaze in your eyes.
A little bit of his cum lands on your cheek before he places his tip in your mouth, biting back his whimpers as you suck on it. Hongjoong leans over and swipes it up; spreading it on your lips, "here we go, baby, none of it goes to waste."
Yeosang has to blink out of his daze to catch Seonghwa as he falls back, laughing as he pulls him to sit with his back against the couch. "Sweet fuck," he pants while tilting his head back.
"Swallow now, pretty girl," Hongjoong whispers, planting a kiss to your cum slick lips as you gulp. There's so much of it — you have to swallow a good three times before you can open your mouth and finally draw in some deep breaths. "Perfect~"
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and gently sits you up, making you whine, "Oppa, you j-jerk."
They all chuckle at your small pout, and Seonghwa looks down with a large smile, blush still bright on his cheeks. "Sorry, you just felt so good..."
"C'mon, little angel," Hongjoong says with a giggle, wrapping your arm over his neck to pull you up.
"I'll carry her, Hyung," Yeosang says quickly, jumping to his feet. Seonghwa is a little slower, still heavy with his bliss.
"Uh," Hongjoong hesitates, looking to you, "are you okay with that, love? He can carry you faster than me."
"Yeah," you groan, desperate for your comfortable bed and some love from your boyfriend. "Thanks, Sang," you sigh with relief as he scoops you up bridal style, leaning your head on his arm.
"No problem," he smiles down at you, feeling something a little too close to affection bubbling in his stomach and looking back up quickly. "Here we go," he sets you down slowly, scanning your body one more time, "thanks for... yeah." He kisses your cheek quickly before shuffling away quickly, giving Hongjoong a small bow as he passes.
Seonghwa comes up next, hand instinctively cupping your jaw as he leans down and kisses you softly. Short, simple, and sweet. "Thank you, baby," he whispers gently, stroking your cheek with his thumb like he's savoring the feeling of your heated skin, "you were so good for us."
"Thanks, Hwa," you lean up and peck his lips once more before he turns; smiling and nodding to Hongjoong as he heads to the door.
Hongjoong snatches up his wrist, devilish grin on his lips, "I think you made her happy." He says simply, but it carries something deeper when Seonghwa remembers his earlier words.
"Yeah?"
He nods, "maybe... this could be a regular thing. If she l-"
"Absolutely," you moan sleepily as you snuggle up ontop of your blankets.
They share a small laugh, peeking over at you. "Well, the princess has spoken," Seonghwa jokes like his heart isn't about to beat right out of his chest.
"We'll talk about it later, yeah?" Hongjoong slides his hand down his arm as he passes, climbing into the bed with you and pulling off his disheveled clothes. "Let me take care of my girl."
Seonghwa watches for a moment before he snaps back into his body, leaving the room and closing the door with a giant smile on his face.
"Are you okay, sweet love?" Hongjoong hums as he tenderly moves you onto your back, leaving a trail of soft kisses down your cheekbone to your lips. "They didn't hurt you?"
"No, I'm okay, Joongie," you smile beneath his lips, eyes blurry and gleaming with your submission. So deep in your subspace that you'd do anything and everything he asks of you. And all he asks is —
"Will you let me show you how much I love you?"
You nod, of course you do; spreading your legs so he can lay between them. Both of you completely nude, he hugs you close and melds your bodies together.
"I'm so proud of you, pretty," he groans into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Your sore walls clenching and twitching to say 'no more' but you only sigh softly and melt under him, holding him tightly as he sets a slow and loving pace.
"You are my perfect little fleshlight, aren't you? Take so much for me, make me feel so good — make my friends feel so good. Shhh, shhh~ No tears, angel," he kisses them up before you even notice them falling, shushing you softly.
You feel vulnerable and exposed after it all, and at the very same time you feel completely safe in his arms. "H-hold me tighter, please?"
"Of course," he quickly complies, squeezing you in his arms. "I got you, my sweet girl," he leaves one more kiss on your teary cheek before pressing his forehead against yours, noticing your eyes flicking around. "Hey, focus on me- there you go~ There's my pretty baby~"
You breathe heavy against his lips, eyes locked on his as he continues his slow thrusts, "f-feels good?"
"Feels so fucking good, love," he assures you immediately, "nothing in the world compares to my girl." He smiles as you do, giggling breathlessly as he plants another round of kisses across your face.
"Can you- fuck," you lose your train of thought as quickly as it comes, hips twitching under his as you whine.
"Slow, baby," he hums, kissing his way down your neck and sucking softly. "Tell me what you want, take your time."
"Can you please cum inside of me?" You plead, almost pathetic in the way you tear up at the thought of him saying no.
"Of course, I can- that gonna make you happy?" He hugs you tighter as your back arches, squeezing your chest to his.
"So happy," you gasp, fingers wrapping up in his hair to ground yourself.
"Don't worry, love, I'll give it to you," he chuckles quietly before latching onto your neck and sucking hard enough to leave a mark; something nobody else will do to you — not on his watch.
"Cumming, cumming!" You wail as it creeps up on you and blankets your entire being, smothering you in pleasure so hot and intense that you're full on sobbing by the time you come back to your body.
He groans deeply from the tight grip you have on his hair; the one you don't even notice, thrusting a few more times to fuck his cum into you before he all but collapses. He rolls to his side, dragging you along with him and immediately tucking your head under his chin to cradle you to his chest.
"Shhhh, you're okay," he hums, holding you tightly and moving slowly to drape a leg over your hip; pulling you even closer. "Pretty girl."
He's more than happy to keep sharing, keep showing you off — but nobody gets to see you like this.
So soft and vulnerable, so fragile as he holds you through your sobs.
authors note. inspired by this post i made yesterday… i was kinda freaking out over a date and stress wrote smut in response. also suffering with ovulation loadout… i swear i might just be batshit insane. also i see your asks and i hear you! i will be responding to them some time soon but in the meantime take a look at this post and send me any prompt with whoever you want me to write it for! i’m in a good mood and want to up the ante on my writing hehe 🤭
thank you for 400+ followers! i love you all and appreciate your support ❤️
network(s) : @neocity-net
You know what people say about you. You’re the innocent one, the one who should be shielded from substances and sex jokes and anything considered unholy. You’re the one who has never seen or touched a dick in her life, and probably never will until the day you die.
You’re the virgin, the celibate, the prude.
At least, that’s what they think. Your not-so-public boyfriend, on the other hand, knows quite the opposite.
“Is this what you needed, pretty girl?” He pumps himself in and out of you shallowly, biceps caging you underneath him on either side of your head as he pulls whine after whine out of your throat. “C’mon baby, tell me what you need.”
Unbeknownst to many, you are the complete opposite of what you choose to present to the public. At the hands of your boyfriend, Johnny, all of the innocent pretense melts away, replaced by an untamed desire. The moment you get behind closed doors, your public persona is discarded on the welcome mat, and any lust you kept hidden away comes to light.
Your sex drive is concerning, to say the least. Your innocent persona is like a hypothetical chastity cage, locking away your dirty desires for a place more private, where nobody can see nor shame you for your thoughts. Outside, you avoid sexually charged situations like the plague, but inside, you’re the initiator, and you’re glad you have someone equally as dirty as you who can keep up with it.
When he met you for the first time, Johnny saw right through your good girl persona. There was no way that someone as beautiful as you had never pursued something like that before, and so he spent his time with you chipping away at the walls you put up, trying to discover whether there was something about you that you were hiding.
And, lo and behold, he found exactly what he was looking for.
For better lack of a word, you were a complete and total slut. The moment he gave you the go-ahead, you were all over him, kissing him, marking him and palming him through his trousers like your life depended on it. He saw the way lust clouded your pupils so quickly, and instead of being freaked out, he encouraged it, murmuring words of praise into your ear as you humped his erection desperately.
“Poor thing,” he whispered, large hands gripping your hips and pulling you harder against him. “Must be hard hiding all of this from your friends, right?” You nodded into his neck, tongue flicking against his skin as you prepped it for yet another hickey. “You don’t have to do that with me, princess. I can give you everything you need.”
And so he did. That night, he figured that to keep you from going batshit insane with need, he would have to make you cum until you passed out, stuff you full to the brim until you insisted that you couldn’t take any more. And even when you did tell him that you couldn’t, you would still rub your tired clit against the tip of his cock, shallow breaths coming out stuttered as you would work yourself up to yet another orgasm.
His girlfriend, his sweet, innocent girlfriend turned out to be a complete nymphomaniac, and he loved it. You took anything and everything he gave you, bathed in the afterglow of multiple orgasms time and time again, dug your nails into his back to the point where small crescents would form. And your need was sexy too; those innocent eyes that drew him in at first would be used against him at his behest, and you would look up at him, pupils dilated and lashes fluttering as he coddled you into your blissful state.
It’s how you look up at him now, tits bouncing with each thrust and mouth wide open in an ‘o’ shape. You’re quite the sight, but it’s a sight he loves to see nonetheless.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, hips flush against yours as his tip prods at your g-spot. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
“W-want you,” you stutter, eyes focusing and refocusing as you feel the coil begin to wind in your tummy. “Want you to fill me up.”
Johnny laughs breathily, sweat soaked strands of hair falling into his face. “But I’m already filling you up, sweet girl. Surely you don't need any more than that.”
He just loves the way your face contorts when he teases you. You get so dumb like this, and when he uses that condescending voice he knows you love, your eyes gloss over as tears begin to form. “Don’t be mean.”
“You like it when I’m mean.” He leans back, wrapping his hands around your waist and observing the way your tiny pussy swallows him whole. “You like it when I use your cunt like my own personal doll, don’t you sweetheart?”
You hum in satisfaction, cheek pressing into the pillow, but you’re snapped back into the moment by a hand wrapping around your throat. “C’mon, answer me. You like it, don’t you?”
“I do,” you moan out, your hoarse voice mingling with the sounds of wet skin slapping. “Love it so much, love you-”
“I know you do, baby. Now…” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before dragging it downwards, pulling your mouth open. You instinctively stick your tongue out and he smiles, gathering a glob of spit in his throat before dropping into your open lips. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want. What you need.”
Your eyes squeeze shut, but the hand around your neck slaps your cheek, forcing them wide open again. He wants you to look at him, to look at how he so mercilessly destroys your poor pussy, all at your request. “Need your cum, Johnny. Need you to stuff me full of your cum.”
“‘I need your cum’, what, princess? Remember your manners.”
You gulp before blinking up at him, trying so hard to fight off your impending orgasm. “Need your cum, please, daddy. Please.”
Oh, you’re so pretty when you beg for him. You’re even prettier when you call him ‘daddy’; it’s one of the clear signs that you’re way too far gone, and that if he edges you any further, you might not even be able to speak. So, he grants you some reprieve.
When Johnny cums, he buries himself deep inside, skin pressed against yours as he pumps his load right against your cervix. Of course, you’ll take the morning after pill tomorrow, but the thought of him stuffing you to the point where you could carry his children turns him on immeasurably, and his cock throbs heavily inside you, walls clamping down as it surrounds itself with warmth.
All the while, you’re a trembling mess beneath him. Sweat drenches your skin and sticks to the bedsheets, and your cunt throbs in the rhythm of your racing heartbeat, thighs shaking as your orgasm tears through your veins. All you can say is ‘thank you’, coupled with broken sobs and shaky moans.
Johnny holds you through all of it, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he rides out his own climax against your cervix. “Such a pretty girl,” he whispers in your ear, lips pressing against its shell. “Such a pretty doll for me, aren’t you?”
All the energy has been drained out of you, and you can only nod, humming sadly when you feel him pull out, the feeling of his release coating your thighs sending a shiver down your spine. All the while, he continues to kiss you, continues to call you his good girl as he caresses your shaking thighs.
Johnny is happy that you can be your real self around him, even if that means milking him dry every other night. He loves being the one who can truly satisfy you, but when he thinks you’re finally done for the night, he flinches at the feeling of you wrapping your hand around his still-erect cock.
“One more,” you whisper, and his eyes shift from where you nudge his tip against your swollen clit to yours, and the blissful glossiness is gone, replaced by a crazed lust.
He could never decline you – he knows better than not to – and so he just grins at you, pushing his hair back before slipping his tip into your cunt again.
“Fucking slut,” he grunts as he continues to slide in, pushing out his own release. “Never satisfied, are you?”
You grin at him wryly before shaking your head. “Nuh-uh. Always want you.”
Chapter One: After the untimely death of your family, your step-father steps up and takes care of you.
RATED X. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.
❥Kim Hongjoong x fem reader
"A little girl who needs her Daddy real bad."
-Ethel Cain, Hard Times ♫
♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: yandere, angst, smut ➯disclaimer: DARK FICTION. DEAD DOVE. RIP I KILLED THAT HOE- 18+. MINORS YOU DON'T BELONG HERE.
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: limited short series; see general warnings in the masterlist: step-dad hongjoong, reader calls hj dad on accident / jokingly + he likes it a little too much, age gap (reader young adult, hong in his late 30s), serious daddy issues, flashbacks will be italics and past tense, soul crushing grief (readers parents passed in car crash just before the story starts), survivors guilt, brief hospitalization, kissing on the lips (half) platonically, depepictions of deep depression, medication, mentions of ptsd nightmares, joong yells at reader (but it's kinda fair imo), emotional manipulation (lowkey going both ways), attempted suicide (via pill overdose, reader throws them up->) emetophobia, reader wears traditionally girly clothes + makeup, perv!hong has a corruption / virginity kink, talking about virginity + how readers bf tried to pressure her, non-sexual nudity, pet names including: (sweet, pretty, little, ect) girl, angel, sweetheart, baby, honey
➯a/n: happy fathers day to all the lovelies out there with horrrrrid daddy issues (self shout out fr) let me know what you think <3
Hongjoong jumped as he heard you scream from your room, muffled through the walls. He instantly got up off the couch, heading down the hall.
Equal parts nosey and concerned, he stopped outside of your closed door. "Why do you always do this? You promised me that you'd t-" He leaned his ear closer.
"Oh, and now you want to interrupt me when I'm trying to tell you how — Will you listen to me? I really wanted to spend time with you..."
He heard you throw something, followed by a sniffle. "Yeah, no, I get it... Mhm. Love y- hello? Hello?" You let out a soft, sighing, laugh. "Yeah, fuck you too, Dad."
He waited a few moments before knocking lightly. "Hey, (Y/n)?"
"Just- just a second."
You were wiping your hand on your leg as you opened the door, clearing it of the tears you were trying to hide. He, obviously, could still tell you were crying. "What's up, Joong?"
"I was wondering," he leaned against the wall across from your door, giving you some much needed space, "since your mom is going to be late tonight, why don't we order some takeout? I still have that menu from the Chinese place. We can get her some too so she doesn't have to worry about stopping after work."
"Sure," you nodded, sniffling again, "the, uh, Lins Express?"
"Mhm. You liked it, right?" He knows you did, you wouldn't shut up about their honey noodles for hours. It was so endearing — how could he possibly forget? "Honey noodles for you?"
Your eyes softened as you finally looked up from the floor and met his gaze.
He smiled. Gentle and light.
He remembered what you liked from the place you had one time? He's only known you for two months, he must be very observant; that's what you told yourself as you felt the smallest flutter of happiness in your heart.
"Yeah- yes. Yes, please."
────୨ৎ────
"Has she moved yet?"
"Not an inch."
You don't hear them speaking. Not really, anyway.
After your initial shock when they broke the news to you — you cried. A lot.
You cried so much you couldn't breathe. Sobbed so violently you fell to the floor even though they made you sit down on the hospital bed before they told you. Doubled right over and almost smacked your face into the tile if not for the fast acting nurse catching you.
And after that, after the nurse sedated you, you cried yourself to sleep with your face in the pillow. It kicked in fast — left you only with a mere minute to beg them to let you join your parents.
"Can you blame her? Poor girl's in shock..." Your step-father, Kim Hongjoong, leans back in the stiff chair on the wall; crossing his arms over his chest.
He'd married your mother almost a year ago. After her divorce with your father, she had trouble staying afloat. And marrying him helped her back to the surface. Taxes are a powerful thing.
For him, marrying her, it brought him closer to you.
He met you at a work event, when your mother had brought you along.
Dancing in the grass in a sun dress that twirled with your movement, the most beautiful smile on your lips —
He fell in love.
It was a stroke of luck that your parents got divorced a few months later. For him, at least.
And another that you had been on the way back from your old home together, finalizing the selling of it, when you were hit by an oncoming truck. Leaving you the only survivor with nothing but a broken arm, a bump to your head, and a crushed soul. Again, luck for him.
He was still thinking of a way to get his hands on you. And this works. As fucked up as he knows it is — this works.
His is the only family you have left. In the state you're in, in the state he knows you're going to be in for a while, you need someone to lean on.
Might as well be him.
"I think I'm going to head home and get some shut eye..." Your uncle, his brother; Bumjoong, pats his leg as he stands.
Leaning his knee on your small hospital bed, he leans over and kisses your hair. "I'll be back soon." He doesn't know if you can hear him, but he lets you know anyways. "Be strong, kid."
You're staring at the wall, laid curled up on your side just like Hongjoong left you after you'd woken them up with your sobs for the fifth time.
When you don't respond after a moment, he lets out a soft sigh and rubs your arm before getting up. "Take care of her, Hong," he says as he leans down to hug him, "I'll be back tomorrow. Try and get her to eat something, will you?"
"Yeah," Hongjoong nods, hugging his brother back lightly, "I'll see you tomorrow."
He turns to face you as Bumjoong leaves, waiting to hear the door thunk closed before he moves towards you.
He speaks your name quietly as he sits on the twin bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The blanket it ruffled and messy ontop of you, pulled all the way up to your neck. When he touches your head, he reels back.
You're burning up.
"Get this off, honey," he hurries to pull it off of you, and you still don't move a single muscle. Even as he drops it to the floor and gets up to turn down the AC in the room.
It's almost the height of summer, and you don't even seem to notice you've been sweating for god-knows how long.
"Come on." He lifts you with a groan — his heart breaking as you let out a soft whimper.
He hates that this is the way he gets to have you all to himself. His sweet girl doesn't deserve all of this pain. If he had it his way, nothing in the world would ever hurt you. But it went and stole away both of your parents on the same night, breaking your forearm and your heart in the process.
As he pulls you onto your feet and wraps your arm around his shoulders, your eyes start burning with the urge to cry. Nothing comes out, though. You've already exhausted your body's supply of hydration through your sweat and tears. You squeeze them shut to relieve the sting, sobbing tearlessly as he guides you to the connected bathroom.
"I know, sweet girl," he whispers, bumping the door open with his foot. "It's going to be okay."
It certainly doesn't feel like it.
"I know it doesn't feel like it," he pouts as he sits you on the closed toilet. "But I'm going to be here with you, okay? We're going to get through this together, you and me. I'm here for whatever you need, honey."
He peels the thin hospital gown off of you carefully, forcing his eyes anywhere but your chest as it heaves with the force of your dry sobs. "Let's get you cleaned up."
────୨ৎ────
"She didn't eat anything: I tried, the nurse tried, the doctor tried to tell her she should at least have something..." Hongjoong sighs, holding his phone to his ear as he leans his head against the wall; slumped in the chair. "Mh... You can get her some honey noodles. It's her favorite, so..." He trails off.
"Hopefully she'll eat it?" Bumjoong speaks on the other end of the line.
"Yeah. We couldn't even get her to drink anything. They had to put her on a drip, she was so dehydrated she couldn't even cry."
"Poor thing..."
"Mhm..."
"How are you doing, Hong?"
He pauses for a moment. He hadn't really thought of his feelings — too worried about yours. Your wellbeing far outweighs his care of his own, it has for a long time.
"I'm okay." He says truthfully, "I'm a- I'm sad, I guess. I wasn't in love with her, and I didn't know him. She was..." A means to an end? "A good friend. I really cared about her." Not nearly as much as he cares about you, though. "I'm more worried about (Y/n)."
"It's a really big shock. Both of you will get through this. I know you'll take care of her, you're good like that."
"Thanks, B- oh, I gotta go. See you when you get here."
Hongjoong stands up quickly as he catches you moving in bed. Laid atop the blankets in some slightly too large sweat pants and a tank top, you stir awake.
He's by your side when you open your protesting eyes, holding your hand gently. "Hey, honey." He keeps it simple, "I'm here."
"Joongie..." Your voice comes out raspy from all the crying, and more tears are working their way into your eyes now that you're hydrated again.
"I'm here, don't worry."
You open up your arms, and he dives right in, wrapping his around you tightly and pulling you up into his lap. Your legs lock around his hips, and your arms around his neck, the rough texture of the plaster cast itching his skin; but he doesn't move it as you land your face in the crook of his shoulder.
"I've got you. Joongie's got you." He coos at you like you're a child and really — you might as well be one right now. All you can do is cry and cry and cry.
His hand sliding up and down your back gently keeps you grounded, and you aren't sure if you appreciate it. You don't know if you want to be present while your mind sorts through all of the sudden grief you're slammed with.
Through your blubbering, messy tears, you ask, "wh-ere are- are they?"
He doesn't want to answer. He knows anything he says will make it worse. But he can't lie to you. You deserve to know. "They're in the morgue. Bum just went and claimed their bodies-"
You let out a scream into his shoulder, making him jolt before he hugs you tighter. Pure heartbreak, absolutely soul shaking and he knows the patients in the neighboring rooms have heard it.
Another raw scream rips through your throat, followed by a series of mumbles. "No, no, no, no, this can't be happening-"
"Shhh, I'm sorry, honey," he holds your head to his chest, tucking you under his chin, "I'm sorry, it is..."
He blinks away his tears, cradling you close to him. He can't stand to see you so upset. But there's nothing he can do to make it better.
This is only a wound that time can try to heal.
But that doesn't mean he won't be there as it does. He's always been there, ever since he came into your life. He isn't going anywhere.
────୨ৎ────
You were always afraid of thunderstorms.
It started when you were a girl, and carried all the way into your adulthood.
As the thunder boomed too close for comfort, you curled up in your blanket tighter. And when the lighting flashed right outside of your window; you scrambled up with a terrified yelp. "Mom!"
"(Y/n)?" Hongjoong yelled as he ran to your room quickly, sluggish with the remnants of sleep but bolting to the sound of your voice nonetheless. He was just about to fall asleep, but your scream had him up in seconds.
Your mother wasn't home, and wouldn't be for some time. She had taken to working extra late nights and weekends. It's usually always just you and Hongjoong when you get home from work.
He grabbed your doorframe as he came to an abrupt stop, looking around your room before he heard a small sniffle — and there you were.
Sitting with your back against the bed and your head in your knees, hugging yourself tightly. "Honey?" He called with such gentleness it hardly broke the air.
Your teary eyes looked up from your legs, your lip trembling. He came up to you slowly, placing his hands on your knees as he kneeled in front of you. "Are you okay?"
"It's so- so childish..." You had whispered, wiping your face quickly as tears streaked down your cheeks. Just when he was about to ask 'what?' —
Another house-shaking rumble of thunder made you jump, instinctively grabbing his arm. Fear in your eyes, you opened your mouth; but no sound escaped.
"It's okay," he said, placing his hand over yours gently as you clung to his arm. "Are you scared of the storm?"
Embarrassedly, you had nodded.
"Yeah, I get it — mother nature is a scary son of a bitch." His eyes lit up as you chuckled lightly. "Do you- is there anything I can do?"
You hesitated for a few moments before another rumble shook the walls, then you spoke quickly; "Can you stay?"
You felt ridiculous. A grown woman asking her step-father to stay with her because she was afraid of some thunder and lightning. You thought he'd come up with some excuse to leave and go to his own bed.
But he didn't even pause before saying, "of course, honey." He didn't make you feel ridiculous. Childish.
No, he made you feel safe.
────୨ৎ────
"Are you awake?"
You are. Staring at your ceiling. In complete silence. The comfort of your own bed, your own clothes, the smell of your mothers laundry soap that you always complained about being too floral — it's all so comforting that you haven't moved since you got home... 17 hours ago.
"...Yes."
"Are you hungry?" Hongjoong asks from the doorway, leaning with his hands in his pockets. "The doctor said you should try to eat with your medicine."
You take a second to think. To try and feel your bodies needs. You fall short. "I don't know."
"I'll make you some breakfast."
Breakfast?
You turn your head with a groan as he walks away, looking towards your window. In from the closed curtains, on your floor is the early morning light; trying its hardest to seep into your room.
You roll your head back and sigh, looking at the ceiling for a moment before urging yourself to sit up.
Sit up. Just do it. Just get up!
But your body doesn't respond to your brain telling it to move. You close your eyes defeatedly, keeping the tears held back by your eyelids. "Hongjoong..." You call weakly. "Joong."
He peeks his head into the room before coming in slowly, "yes?"
"I c-" You breathe out slowly, forcing your eyes open. Your chin trembles with your held back emotion. "I can't move."
His eyebrows push together, "do you want me to help you?" He asks softly, his fingers tracing over the cast on your arm.
"Please," you choke out your response, melting into his touch as he wraps his arms under you and pulls you up carefully.
"Here we go, baby," the nickname slips out unintentionally; and neither of you notice it. "Easy does it." He hums as he rubs your arms, letting you sit up on your own as he moves your legs to dangle off the bed.
"When- when are we going to bury them?"
He sighs, crouching infront of you and placing his hands on your knees. "Are you ready to talk about that?"
"I need to- we need to. I can't... I can't just let them sit there." I should be there with them; is what you want to add.
It's all you've been able to think about. Why, of all of you, are you the one to survive? The only one?
"We can talk about it after you eat something."
"Hongjoong, c-"
"Come on," he grabs your hand gently, leading you onto your feet and holding you steady as you waiver. "One step at a time."
────୨ৎ────
"Hey, Hiyyih," Hongjoong greets the young woman as he opens the door the next day.
She's the first person other than him and Bumjoong that you were willing to speak with.
"How is she?" She asks as she pushes her way into the house, taking off her shoes in a hurry.
"About how you'd expect..." He sighs, pushing back his messy hair. He spent the entire night in bed with you, both of you only getting fitful episodes of rest between the nightmares and crying.
But he was diligent and soft with you the entire time, holding you close with just enough pressure that you didn't feel trapped. You just felt... protected.
"Not great. At all."
She goes to run to your room, but she stops herself and looks him up and down. "I've got her. You need to get some rest, too."
"Thank you," he smiles, just barely.
He doesn't want to put you in someone else's care. But, if it's going to be anyone, he's glad it's her.
You've been best friends since childhood and he's got to know her and her brother well during the last year. She cares about you almost as much as he does. Almost.
"If she needs anything- or you, if you need anything-"
"I know where to find you," she nods, giving him a light hug before rushing down the hallway; calling your name.
She finds you right where he left you, laid on your side in the bed; watching your fingers trace along the cast on your arm with the slightest hint of disgust in your otherwise blank eyes.
"Hey." Her softly spoken tone makes your eyes flick to her quickly, relief written on your face.
"Hiyyih," you sit up too quickly, but your dizziness doesn't stop you from getting up and hugging the blonde tightly; getting the exact treatment back.
She doesn't handle you like you're fragile, like the brothers do. And she doesn't carry pity in her voice, like others had, as she says, "I'm so sorry."
Hiyyih hugs you like she means it, wrapping her arms around you tightly and squeezing you into her while you both start tearing up. "I was so scared," she whispers as she holds you impossibly closer, "they wouldn't let me and Kai up to see you. Joong wasn't answering his phone, yours is still straight to voicemail, I was so scared I lost you-"
"I'm still here," you choke out. Pained with the fact. And she can hear it in your voice.
She pulls back with a pout, her arms around your neck gently, "and I'm glad. (Y/n), what happened to you is-"
"A miracle?" You grimace as you recall the word the doctor and nurses said over and over again. "So I've heard."
"It's a miracle she survived." The doctor had told Hongjoong. "Your arm should heal within two months, it's really a miracle." The woman said as she explained how to care for your cast. Miracle. Miracle.
The word even slipped from Hongjoong the day he brought you home from the hospital, as he placed you into bed. Thinking you were sleeping. "My miracle."
"No," Hiyyih shakes her head, frowning. "It's a tragedy. I can't even begin to imagine the pain you're in..."
Hearing someone else say exactly what you were thinking, hearing it be validated — you crash right back into her arms in a wreck of sobs. "Oh, Hiyyih! I can't- I don't-"
She doesn't shush you, she doesn't tell you it's okay. She just sniffles, holding you tightly as you shake with the force of your grief.
────୨ৎ────
"He said that?!" Hiyyih slapped her hand over her mouth as you shushed her.
"Shhh!" You hit her arm, pouting dramatically, "will you quit it? My step-dad works from home."
"Sorry, sorry," she frowned, sitting atop the counter while you cooked for the both of you. "But... he said that?"
"Yeah... That's what he said," you smiled brightly, "he said he'll even pick me up."
"Oh, I'm so excited for you! This is your first date since when? How long has it been, two years, three-"
"Hey, girls," Hongjoong said as he turned into the kitchen, spooking you both into silence. He nodded to Hiyyih briefly before smiling towards you.
"Hey, Hong." You didn't seem to think anything of it as he pushed you forward a bit by the small of your back to get past you to the refrigerator. "If we're too loud, just tell me. Hiyyih doesn't know how to control her volume." You stuck your tongue out at her, laughing as she did the same.
"You're fine," he chuckled lightly, taking a seat at the table with his drink. "What're you making? Smells good."
"Ramen with my secret ingredient," you were already reaching into the cabinet to get another pack as you asked, "want some?"
"Sure. What's the secret ingredient?" He hummed, leaning his head in his hand as he watched you.
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret~"
"It's Tajin and cooking wine." Hiyyih smirked as you turned to her, wielding your fork like a weapon.
"I'm never telling you my secrets again. You've betrayed me for the last time!" You yelled dramatically, snatching up the seasoning she handed to you.
"Yes, you will," she gigged, nudging your leg with her foot, "you tell me everything!"
"Not any more."
Hongjoong watched from the table, smiling, as you and your friend went back in forth with your playful argument. Really though, his eyes never left you.
────୨ৎ────
Neither your mother nor your father had much family. The only ones who showed up to the funeral a few days later was a handful of cousins and some sympathetic co-workers. Hiyyih and Kai, their parents.
Hongjoong didn't let you leave his side, and you didn't want to anyway.
You dread the day he leaves because he's the only thing keeping you even semi-functional.
For the past four days: he's pulled you out of bed, cleaned you up, made sure you took your medicine, he helped you change everyday — claiming it was only worse for your mental health to stay in your pajamas all day.
He must pity you. That's what you think. That's why he's sticking around. He'll probably leave after the funeral like everyone else.
Your stark white cast stands out in the sea of black as your parents are lowered into the ground next to one another.
Hongjoong looks over to you; your bloodshot eyes trained on the caskets.
He doesn't pity you. He loves you.
Of course he feels bad. He hates that you're in pain. But he cares for you more than he pities you. Far more.
He wraps his arm around your shoulders and your head immediately falls into his, your hand coming to cover your mouth. Bumjoong, from behind you, rests a comforting hand on your shoulder.
You don't know what you're going to do when they leave.
Hiyyih, from your other side, rubs your back softly as you muffle your cries. Kai is biting back his tears as he reaches between you and holds your hand. You'll always have them.
────୨ৎ────
And even if you didn't, you don't have to worry about the brothers leaving, especially not Hongjoong. He tries to make that clear as he helps you out of the car.
He came back with you. He isn't going anywhere.
"I'll heat you up some-"
"(Y/n)?" Your elder neighbor hobbles over quickly, stopping the three of you in your driveway. "Dear, look at you..."
"Now's not a great time-" Hongjoong tries to stop her, pulling you behind him gently when she reaches out.
"Oh, I'll be quick," she says as she takes your hands in her own, cast and all.
"Ma'am, really-" Bumjoong similarly gets cut off.
"I just wanted to let you know how very, very sorry my husband and I are for you. You're so young, you shouldn't have to deal with such grief. I was in my fifties when my parents passed, I can't imagine..."
You look up at her blankly, "thanks, Miss K."
"Oh, dear, I'm so glad you're okay! You're such a sweet girl. It's a miracle you survived. I saw the photos on the news, it's a work of god that anyone made it out-"
"Okay, okay," Hongjoong steps between you, "really, that's enough. Thank you for your condolences."
Both you and Bumjoong are looking at the woman like she's grown another head, wide eyes and jaws dropped.
Hongjoong, though, is seething. "We'll see you around, Miss K." He yanks your hands from her grasp and pulls you to the front door, hiding you in his side with his arm around you while he unlocks the door. "What a fucking bitch, read the room-" He grumbles as he pushes the door open, guiding you inside. "Come on, honey."
Bumjoong gives the awestruck woman an awkward smile before run-walking to join you.
Hongjoong is kneeling down, taking your shoes off of you gently.
"Ignore her." He knows you feel guilty for surviving. He, and everyone else, have been trying to get that idea out of your head.
The idea that you should have died with your parents.
"I think I wa- I want to go lay down."
That's all you've wanted to do for the past six days. All six days since the crash — all you want to do is curl up and disappear.
"Come on," he pushes you into the direction of the couch, "Bum, will you make her something to drink?"
"On it."
You crash onto the cushions, laid face down as he pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over you. "Thanks." You say shortly.
"Anything you need, honey. Anything at all."
────୨ৎ────
"What're you wearing?" Hongjoong hummed, leaning his head over the back of the couch and looking you up and down.
Dressed in a cute skirt and a button up blouse, all dolled up, you did a twirl that made his heart flutter. "Cute, right?"
"Very~ Where you off to?"
"Me and Hiyyih are going on a girls date. Her boyfriend just broke up with her, so I'm standing in," you laughed as you grabbed your purse from the hook by the door.
"You're a good friend," he smiled, quickly standing up and making his way to you. "No boys right?"
"No, Dad," You rolled your eyes playfully, missing the way his eyes widened a bit. "Just me and her- well, her brother. But he doesn't count!"
"Hmm... I'll allow it," he joked right back after his shock passed, handing you the keys to his car after you pulled your shoes on. You took them with a big smile.
"Really? I was gonna take my bike to meet her-"
"In that skirt? Do you want the whole neighborhood to see your pant-"
"Okayyyy!" You shoved his arm, "I get it, perv."
He smirked lightly — if only you knew the half of it.
"I'll be back before mom gets home," you said as you opened up the door, leaning back to him. "Mwah," you gave him a quick peck. Chaste and fleeting.
That's one thing he still can't get used to. You kiss everyone on the lips, it's just part of how you show affection. But it still makes him giddy.
"Bye, Dad." You closed the door before either of you got the chance to really take in what had just slipped from your lips. Not joking like before.
Hongjoong stared at the door with wide eyes, debating on whether or not he actually just heard you correctly.
Debating on if he should just deal with the consequences of yanking the door open and shoving his tongue in your mouth to show you how to really kiss.
In the end, he didn't. But he thought about it.
He still thinks about it. A lot.
────୨ৎ────
"I made you an appointment with a grief counselor," Hongjoong says quietly over the sound of the rain against the roof.
The wind howls, the screen door bangs every few seconds, the television keeps it's steady sound of a show you've seen a million times.
You stay there, laying across the couch, unmoving with your unfocused eyes on the TV.
"Did you hear me, honey?"
"...Yeah."
"Is th-" He sighs, rubbing his face as he leans on the doorframe. He's asked you 'is there anything you need' five times a day, at the very least. And he never got an answer.
He's not been guiding you through your grief — he's just been keeping you afloat so that you don't drown in it completely.
He needs to know what you need to start getting through it.
"I'm really trying. I really am, (Y/n)... But I can't help you if you don't tell me what you need."
The lights flicker with a loud rumble of thunder, and his heart breaks a little more as he watches you flinch.
He pushes off of the wall, getting a tissue from the third box you've gone through this week and a half on his way over.
When he kneels in front of you and dabs your tears away, they start flowing quicker. "Shhh," he coos softly, rubbing your arm as you hold yourself, "I know. I know, honey."
His blurry figure pouts as you meet his gaze. "I need-" Your voice cracks, "I need you to hold me."
He presses his lips together in a gentle smile, "okay. I can do that."
You finally push yourself off of the couch for the first time in hours, sniffling quietly.
He sits next to you and pats his lap lightly, urging you forward. Carefully, you sit sideways atop of him; your shoulders slumped and your head low as you wipe your eyes.
As he wraps his arms around you, you can't help the wave of ugly sobs that come with the comfort of his touch.
"It's okay," he says softly as he presses his forehead against your shoulder, "cry it all out."
You turn quickly, hugging his neck and crying into him, "why am I alive, Joongie?"
He's well and true speechless. He has no idea what to say. How to comfort you. "Don't... don't say that."
"It should have been me-"
"Stop. Stop talking like that, honey."
When his palms touch your cheeks, you almost think he's slapped you from both sides simultaneously — but his touch is soft, and it doesn't move.
His eyes flick wildly across your teary face, his finger twitching on your cheekbones. "Don't say that. Don't fucking say that."
"Why are you even here? You can leave, go find an actual girlfriend-"
"I don't want to." He breathes softly, frantic eyes finally locking on yours, "I don't want to leave. This is our home. This is where we belong, together. I don't want a girlfriend, I want you."
"Wh-"
"I want to stay with you," he shakes his head as if correcting himself, "I want to take care of you, honey. Please, please just let me. You don't need to do this on your own — you can't. I want to stay."
Your pout only gets bigger, bottom lip trembling and calling his attention. "Why?"
"Because I care about you."
Despite the circumstances, his heart is trying to beat out of his chest to try and jump into yours. He means every word he says, but you don't know the extent.
"Don't say those things again, baby. Never. You deserve to live. And I'm not going to leave. Especially not when you're hurting so bad."
A bittersweet warmth touches your soul for the first time since the accident. The corners of your lips twitch up instead of down. "R-really?"
He takes a steadying breath before he pecks your lips, holding himself back. "Really."
────୨ৎ────
"Joong." You grab his wrist as he turns to leave your bedroom the next night, looking down at the floor.
"Yup? Yes, honey?" He turns back around quickly, rubbing your arm.
He had helped you clean up and change into your pajamas, and was about to go do the same for himself.
Hiyyih had visited again, but left a few hours ago, promising she'd come back soon. You hugged her extra tight.
"I just wanted to say... thank you for taking care of me and my mom. You're a really nice guy. I hope- I hope one day you'll get to have an actual family."
He wants to tell you you are his family. But he just smiles and pets your freshly washed hair. "You're sweet."
He gets the wind knocked out of him as you crash into him. Hugging him extra tight. "Oh-" He wraps his arms around you in return, squeezing you much gentler than you do to him. He waits until you let go — he always does.
You appreciated that about him. He was good to you. "Goodnight, Hongjoong."
"Goodnight, honey. See you in the morning."
You don't say it back.
He closes the door behind him quietly. Shuffling down the hall, he rubs his face tiredly.
It doesn't hit him until he's rinsing his face, staring down at the place where your pain and sleep pills should be. And it's empty.
The door just about comes off the hinges as he yanks it open, running down the hall. "Hey!" Your door gets the same treatment, slamming into the wall behind it as he throws it open.
It's only been twenty minutes — if that. But you're sitting on the floor, leaning on the side of the bed, eyes drooping as you stare at the photo of your parents on your nightstand. Both bottles of pills are empty on the floor next to you.
"No, no, no, no," he mumbles as he runs to you. "No! What did you do? What did you do, baby? Hey, you stay awake, goddamn it!" He slaps your cheek lightly, multiple times in quick succession until you pout and open your eyes.
Wildly dilated eyes scanning his face, you groan. "I'm gonna go."
"Like fuck you are! Get up, c'mon," he grits his teeth as he hauls you to your feet, wrapping his arms up under yours and dragging you out of the room, "you aren't going anywhere! No fucking way!"
"Let go of me," you slur tiredly, kicking your feet weakly as they drag on the floor. Everything is slightly blurry from your tears. The photos lining the hall, the wallpaper they're on — your mother's bedroom door that hasn't been opened in a week.
He falls to the tile with you, dragging you to your knees as you protest feebly, "oh, god... How long ago- oh, god!"
You whine as he pulls your torso over the clawfoot tub, slapping at his hand while he grips your jaw. "You can't leave, you can't! I need you. You can't go." His fingers dig into the sides of your face; forcing your mouth open.
His fingers are in the back of your mouth before you can even grab at him, making you gag. "Ge- get them out, angel." He shoves them deeper, making you retch right into the tub. Bile and half dissolved pills.
But not nearly as many pills as he knows was in those bottles.
He does it again, cringing at the sound of your gagged whines. Not paying any mind to the stomach acid on his fingers as he digs them back into your throat. Only your pained noises as you spew more pills.
"Shhh," he uses his clean hand to rub your back as he turns on the water, washing away all of the filth and pills before rinsing his fingers. "Shhh, you're o- I'm here."
He doesn't dare say 'you're okay'. Because that's far from the truth.
You're so filled with grief and misplaced guilt that the first thing you've done in almost two weeks without being coaxed — is try to kill yourself.
But as you spit up into the tub: hard tile under your knees, heart clenching painfully in your chest, casted arm slipping on the edge, Hongjoong's trembling voice cutting through the air to beg you to stay awake long enough to get the pills out —
You realize you're afraid to die.
He's crying almost as hard as you are as you ask yourself, in a near incoherent voice, "why did I do that?" You cough into the tub, spitting up the taste of your stomach. "Joongie, what did I do?" You yell as you grip the edge of the tub with your finger-tips. "I don't want to die!"
You don't.
You miss your parents so badly that it feels like there's a void in your heart — like someone has hole punched it and left you to bleed out. You feel so guilty for walking away with nothing other than a broken arm that you may as well be calling yourself the anti-christ; like you've committed a mortal sin just by existing.
But you're afraid of what comes after death. If it's pitch black and cold. If it's like a deep sleep. If it's like heaven and hell.
You aren't ready to find out.
He hugs your arm tightly, sobbing into your sleeve, "how many did you take?"
"I t- all of them! All of them!" You shake your head, blinking rapidly, "what do I do?!"
"Open," he shakily lifts his fingers again, wrapping his hand around yours on the edge of the tub as he shoves them back into your throat. "Get them out, as many as you can, honey. Before you start digesting them more."
You can hardly breathe as he makes you empty your stomach into the tub, three more times before pills stop coming up with the burning acid that has your throat raw.
"We need to get you to the hospital-"
You shake your head, coughing dryly, "they'll admit me."
"You need to be looked at, sweetheart..."
"Please," you look at him, begging. "Don't make me. They'll keep me, Joong... I can't- I can't." You squeeze his hand tightly, "they won't let me see you."
His gaze softens even more, lacing his fingers with yours. The rushing water fills the silence between you.
"You were right," you say quietly, voice hoarse with pain; both physical and mental. "I need you to take care of me. Please, take care of me."
────୨ৎ────
You came home late, mascara smudged and half-assedly cleaned up.
"Where you been?" Hongjoong's voice made you jump, holding your hand to your chest. He turned around at the table and his eyes widened; practically jumping out of the chair. "What-"
"It's nothing." You tried to shove his hands away as they came up to cradle your puffy and heated face. That, along with your ruined makeup, told him you'd been crying.
He tilted your head up, pouting as he inspected you. "What happened?"
His soft touch, his gentle tone, the genuine concern in his eyes — it made you burst into another round of tears.
"Oh-" He shook his head, shushing you as he rubbed your cheekbones with his thumbs, "hey, shhh, you don't need to cry, sweetheart. Whatever it is, I can try to help you."
You threw yourself into his chest, hugging him tightly and leaving him a bit surprised for a moment before he returned the favor.
It was the first time he ever called you anything other than 'honey'.
He let you cry into his chest for a good few minutes before you finally exhausted yourself; sniffling and holding onto him.
"Want to tell me what this is about?" He whispered as he traced on your back.
"He dumped me."
Hongjoong wanted to jump for joy, but he hid his smile as he continued to hold your head to his shoulder; trying to keep his tone even. "He doesn't know what he's missing, honey."
"Can I... could I ask you something a bit personal, Joong? About guys?"
"Sure." He smoothed out his expression as you leaned back. He'd answer any question you ask without hesitation.
"Well... I know you and my mom don't have sex-" His eyes widened a bit, having absolutely no idea where you were going. "-and... I was just curious if guys really do get blue balls if they don't... do it? God, I sound ridiculous." You laughed humorlessly, wiping your cheeks.
"Uuuuhm- sorry, sorry." He scratched his neck, feeling heat creeping up it. "I wasn't expecting that-"
"You don't have to answer, I just- well... Google wasn't very helpful. It was a bunch of incels on Reddit, not the most reliable source."
He pushed a hand through his hair as he wandered back to the table, sitting quickly. "No, that's not true." He looked down, and then back to you in a split second, "why?"
He noticed your unease, the way you swallowed with a bit of trouble; like there was a lump in your throat.
"He said that's why he couldn't be with me anymore... We were just w-" You cleared your throat, choosing to leave out the details, "he said because I won't put out."
"That's stupid, honey-" Your heart dropped for a split second, thinking he was telling you you should go back to him and- "-you don't have to do anything you don't want to."
You slunk into the chair across from him, tapping your fingers on the table as you bit your lip. "You seriously don't get blue balls? He made it sound so real..."
He laughed a bit, fondly. Reaching over, he held your hand softly, "seriously. We can handle it on our own." Looking over your features slowly, watching you take in the information; his eyebrows pressed together. "Are you a virgin?"
The question had caught you both off guard, and he let go of your hand quickly to cover his mouth. "I'm so sorry. I did not mean to say that."
Although a bit mortified of answering, you thought it a fair question. You know he didn't mean to ask, and he was definitely not expecting an answer — he was fully expecting a scold or a slap or for you to completely ignore his personal inquiry.
But you just spoke, "yeah."
You didn't know it, but his wide eyes weren't of shock. They were of wonder and awe. Can you get more perfect? Is what he was thinking in the brief moment of silence that hung between you.
He swallowed thickly before speaking, "and that's why he broke up with you? Because you aren't ready to have sex?"
"Yeah, but, I mean," you shrugged, "I see where he's coming from-"
"No, no, noooo," he interrupted, quickly, "absolutely not!" He met your eyes and spoke sincerely, "you should wait until you're ready. Don't let that jackass get in your head. If it's important to you, you should do it with someone special."
"You really think that? Most people say I'm overreacting, being too picky..." You looked away, sighing, "most people my age don't really think it's such a big deal. I mean, it really is mostly societal- but for me, I want to feel safe with the person who I literally let inside of me, y'know?"
He was internally freaking the fuck out, but he kept a calm face; nodding along with your words. It was your first time ever opening up to him about something so undeniably personal.
"No, that's completely valid," he said quickly when he realized you were done talking; looking to him for a response. "I can imagine it's scary to you, right?"
"Yeah," you leaned your head on your hand, "it is."
He'll make sure you never feel scared with him. He can take much better care of you than any boy your age ever could. He should make sure you stop going on dates — one of these times, you might give into their pressuring. All of these thoughts ran through his mind as he watched you, his heart in his throat. What can he do to make you feel better?
"Hey, honey?" He broke the silence carefully, a smile tugging on his lips as you looked up at him. "Have you ever egged someone's house?"
────୨ৎ────
"How are you feeling?" Hongjoong asks for the third time in twenty minutes, looking over to you as he puts the stopper in the tub.
Letting it fill with lukewarm water, he sits on the edge to face you.
"Tired," you whisper as you pick at the plaster cast. "My throat hurts- you had to jab me so hard?" You're fuzzy headed and it's the first time you've even gotten close to laughing.
Your small joking tone doesn't amuse him though, not when you're still in the danger zone and refusing to go to the hospital.
He knows he should just pick your ass up and make you go. But he can't bring himself to, the thought of them keeping you away from him nagging him into doing research as fast as possible so he can take care of you.
You're going to be so pissed when he keeps you awake for the next few hours, already nodding off every so often with your head rolling back and forth on the wall you rest on. But he isn't risking letting you fall asleep. Not when you never waking up is a possibility.
He knocks his foot against yours as your eyes droop for the umpteenth time.
"Let me sleep," you draw on in a whine, slapping at his foot clumsily.
"No. You need to stay awake for at least a few hours until I know you're okay."
You peek your eyes open and pout up at him, dramatically at first. But it turns genuine as you register the sternness, the care and concern on his face.
His nose slightly red from crying, his eyes puffy, and his hair a mess.
"I'm sorry." You blurt out quickly. "I d- I just..." You squeeze your eyes shut as you roll your head to face away from him. "I don't even know. I'm sorry..."
"Why did you do that?" He deadpans, finally asking the million dollar question.
"I don't know-"
"Yes, you do."
"I don't!"
"Stop lying to me!"
You flinch as he stands quickly, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"Stop lying to yourself! You didn't do this for the fuck of it. You were trying to kill yourself! I want to know why! Why would you do something so stupid? What if I hadn't noticed? Huh? You were just going to lay there on the floor until you seized to death? Until your heart gave out? All alone i- What- I can't-" He paces back and forth in the small space, gripping his hair.
He stops as he hears you choke back a cry, and his eyes snap to you; still on the floor. Your knees pulled up to your chest and your wide eyes teary as you watch him.
He sighs, sliding down the wall to sit next to you. He holds your hand gently, but his voice is still laced with anger and confusion, "I want a goddamn answer, (Y/n)."
You take a few short seconds to steady your shallow breaths, not daring to look over at him even as you feel his gaze on you. "I feel like... I shouldn't have survived. Like this is some sort of sick joke the universe is playing on me. Why d- why did I get to live and they don't? It's not fair..."
"Life isn't fair," he says without hesitation, "life is fucking brutal. It sucks, but, honey, that's the truth. The world will throw the most vile things at people who deserve it least. It pummels us to the dirt — and you know what we do?"
He squeezes your hand lightly, getting you to look at him. "You know what we do?"
You shake your head slowly, gripping his hand tight.
"We get up. And we keep going. No matter how much it hurts. We keep living, keep fighting. Do you understand me? We don't get to give up just because life is unfair."
Your lip trembles, and before you can stop them, tears are free falling down your face.
"C'mere," he mumbles softly, opening up his arms and wrapping them around you as you crawl into his lap. "I got you."
"I'm so sorry, Da- Joong," you stutter into his neck breathlessly, already a mess of sobs in his hold.
"I know, honey," he hums as he rubs your shoulders slowly, "it's okay, I'm not mad. You just scared me, you know? What would I do without my sweet girl?"
You can only respond with more tears, clinging to him tightly.
────୨ৎ────
The sun rises in through the windows, casting the dim table in its light. Shining on you and Hongjoong in two separate blocks of warmth as you both rest your heads on the surface.
Your fingers play idly with his, eyes barely held open.
He's just the same, holding back his yawns as he waits in silence; tracing your face and committing every detail to memory like he hasn't already.
He had kept you up all night despite your growing aggravation as he did so; the pills that managed to dissolve in your stomach making you unbelievably sleepy. Eventually, around two hours ago, you had given up arguing and forced yourself to stay awake so he'd stop shaking you and blasting music in your ear.
When you made it clear you'd stay up, he turned off the blinding overhead light and rubbed your head to aid your headache.
When the alarm on his phone finally goes off, he breathes a sigh of relief. "You're in the clear," he shuts it off quickly, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head.
"Can I eat now?" You moan tiredly as you rub your eyes, forcing yourself up.
"Yes, and then we'll get some sleep," he kisses your head as he stands. "Cereal okay?"
"That's good."
The events of the night still hang heavy in the air, but less so. In between your bouts of annoyance over not being able to sleep; Hongjoong got you to open up more.
All of your feelings laid out in the open, the crushing weight of dealing with them all on your own has lightened. Your shoulders feel less tense. Your soul feels just a bit less plagued.
You eat in silence, both of you clearing your bowls quickly with the promise of sleep awaiting you.
He doesn't even bother clearing the table before he stands up and opens his arms for you. With a small groan, he lifts you up and allows you to wrap your arms and legs around him. "Let's go to bed, honey."
"Mhm," you hum into his shoulder, resting your head against him while he carries you to your room.
"I'll set an alarm for a few hours." He lays you down gently before taking his phone from his pocket, doing just that.
You expect him to leave, go to his own bed. But he throws his phone down on your bedside table and tells you, "scoot over."
You don't hesitate before sliding closer to the wall, making room for him as he lays next to you. "You're going to stay?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna stay," he smiles lightly, settling on his side to face you. "I need to know my honey is safe."
You roll to mirror him, eyes tired like never before — but he sees a small flicker of life in them as you move closer.
You cuddle into his chest, hiding your face in his shirt as you close your eyes; melting into his hold.
"Thanks, Dad."
The word slips without you even noticing, already falling asleep with the warmth of his body soothing your soul.
But he latches onto it. Letting it echo with something akin to love blooming in his chest, sinking it's vines into his heart.
warnings: drug use, mention of drug use and sale, reader is a heavy drug user, bimbo!reader, afab!reader, written with a slight age gap in mind (both legal), fingering, dubcon if you squint, degradation, toxic relationship, Yuta's kind of a woman hater, manipulation from both sides (lmk if i missed anything)
a/n: i need to be studying but i had to get this out
“Baby, do you think you can get me a Quaalude?”
He paused, almost immediately shooting an equally concerned and irritated look your way.
“The fuck? Did you just ask me for a Quaalude?” His tone was casual, despite the obviously distressed look on his face.
“Yea, I’m curious.”
“Fuck no, I’m not getting you a Quaalude.”
“Please?”
There it was. That pitiful look in your big, wet, sappy eyes that you always gave him when you asked for anything. The bummer was, ‘anything’ was almost always drugs.
He’d dated gold diggers and drug addicts before, but you had to be the worst. You were just so fucking cute about it. How the fuck was he supposed to say no when you were standing there with that cute pout on your glossy lips in that little blue dress? He'd grown bored of every other girl climbing on his lap, showing off their tits and promising head. You, however, were sweet and dumb and naive, or you acted like it at least. Five months and he still hadn't figured out if this was some kind of act or if you were really this air-headed.
“Weed isn’t enough for your insatiable ass anymore? Not a Percocet? A Xanax? You want a fucking Quaalude?”
“I just wanna try…”
His words stung, and he knew that. What else was he going to say to the girl using him for drugs and the satiation of her daddy issues? The only difference between you and the others was that you made him feel bad.
“Don't fucking play with me right now."
"That was hot. Say it again."
Your comment broke his resolve for a moment, a soft huff of laughter leaving his nose. "What? Just… come here.”
It wasn't that he couldn't get whatever you wanted. He just wasn't going to spend all that time and effort only to lose a profit because his borderline bimbo of a girlfriend wanted to try something that was only slightly higher in quality than the other shit she poisoned herself with.
Luckily for him, the only thing that you hated more than not getting the drugs you wanted was his disapproval. It was so easy to get you to do what he wanted, and what he wanted right now was to talk any semblance of sense into you or to at least avoid the headache-inducing process of acquiring a Quaalude for someone who couldn't fully appreciate it.
He tugged your arm gently, leaning back onto the couch to make room for you in his lap.
“Look at me," he started, waiting until you looked him in the eyes. "Quaaludes were for women who hated their husbands. Do you hate me, baby?”
He knew it was the only thing that would register in that sweet, drug-addled brain of yours. He knew he had to manipulate and exploit that poor piece of your mind that craved his affection and approval.
His hands found their place on your thighs, slightly pushing underneath the hem of your dress. He watched as the pout on your lips deepened as you shook your head in response to his question.
"No, Yu, I don't hate you."
Appeased by your answer and your softening voice, he grinned and pulled you closer so that you were now sitting on his stiffening cock.
Wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you in place, he reached past you, picking up one of the freshly rolled blunts he had set aside just for you and a lighter. He leaned back and lit it before holding it up to your lips, watching as you took a long drag from it, one that would've honestly been concerning if it were anyone else. You looked so pretty like this, smoking his weed, letting him play with your head so he could get what he wanted for once.
"Women that were taking Quaaludes had husbands that couldn't make them cum either. I make you cum, don't I?"
The blush that crept onto your cheeks was all he needed to know that his tactics were working. You were so gullible, so pliable. It made his cock twitch in his pants.
"Then let me remind you how good you have it, pretty girl."
He took the blunt away, taking an equally long hit from it before putting it out in the ashtray on the coffee table behind you. He could now put his attention back on you. He guided you forward as his hands slipped underneath your pretty little dress again, this time with more purpose, one on your ass and the other toying with the hem of your underwear. His lips were promptly on yours, and he could taste the cherry flavoring of your lip gloss mingling with the weed on your breath.
His fingers wasted no time in pressing against your clit through your already damp panties. Slut, he thought to himself, or at least he thought he did. However, the familiar soft pout of your lips confirmed otherwise. Murmuring a quick, "sorry, baby," he was quick to kiss away the doubts before they could even fully form in your mind.
His tongue prodded at your bottom lip, your cherry lip gloss and pretty noises pulling a soft groan from the back of his throat. When your lips parted, allowing him into your awaiting maw, he pushed his tongue inside, giving you slightly less than you wanted, leaving you to chase after him. You were so fucking desperate. Desperate for his tongue, desperate for his drugs, desperate for his attention.
He didn't need foreplay, you were already damn near dripping onto his lap when he pulled your underwear aside. He found it fun to tease you though, gently prodding and pulling away his two fingers at your sopping hole while you tried to push down onto them. For someone so cute, you sure acted like a nympho, shamelessly wanting more from him.
Ultimately, he gave in, finally pushing the two digits inside, dragging them against the velvety walls of your center. Maybe he could spare a Quaalude for this pussy. It didn't seem so bad when it was so easy to imagine how good you'd feel around his dick now. Your pretty whimpers and moans weren't helping his resolve either.
His pace was slow and controlled, pressing at the spot that made his pretty baby turn to mush in his lap. He hadn't even started rubbing your clit yet and you were gripping onto him and whining like a virgin.
"Feel good, baby? Still need a fucking Lude?" He asked mockingly, almost spitefully as he pushed his fingers a little further, his thumb finding your clit.
As much as he wanted to hear you say it, the pitiful whimper that fell from your lips and the way you shook your head gave him all the answer he needed.
