thx for the request anon it was fun writing hehe!! enjoy
the bedroom was dark and warm, the only light coming from the small lamp on the nightstand. you were spread out on your back, thighs trembling violently around jake’s head as he devoured you like a man who had been starving for weeks.
his strong arms were locked around your thighs, holding you wide open for him, his face completely buried between your legs. he had been down there for almost an hour now, and there was absolutely no sign of him slowing down.
if anything, the more you shook, the hungrier he got.
“jake—fuck—please, i can’t take anymore,” you sobbed, fingers tangled desperately in his messy hair, trying weakly to pull him away.
your pussy was swollen, puffy, and hypersensitive after four intense orgasms. every single nerve ending felt like it was on fire, raw and ringing with a wild, buzzing heat. tears streamed down your cheeks, your body shaking uncontrollably against the mattress.
but jake just moaned loudly against your clit, the vibration sending another massive shockwave through your overstimulated body. he was completely lost in it, entirely tuned out to anything that wasn’t the wet, sweet taste of you.
his eyes were closed, his face shiny and dripping with your juices, his tongue working you with messy, hungry strokes that left you completely breathless. he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth, flicking it rapidly while two thick fingers curled deep inside you, stretching you out and pumping without a shred of mercy.
“just a little more, baby,” he mumbled, voice hoarse and wrecked, barely pulling back enough to speak, his lips slick and glistening. “you taste so fucking good. i can’t stop. please let me keep going. i need it. i fucking need it, yeah?”
his tongue dove back in immediately, licking broad, heavy stripes from your entrance all the way up to your clit before sucking hard again.
the wet, obscene sounds of him eating you out filled the entire bedroom, echoing off the quiet walls. he was addicted. completely, shamelessly addicted to your pussy. the way you tasted, how you clenched around his tongue, your cries for him.
he didn’t want to stop. he couldn’t stop.
it was like a fever in his blood, a desperation that only grew sharper with every single wet noise he pulled out of you.
“jake—oh my god—i’m gonna cum again—” you wailed, hips jerking uncontrollably, your hands gripping his hair tight enough to pull, but he only pressed his face deeper, loving the pain if it meant he was closer to your heat.
he groaned happily, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated right through your clit. his fingers pumped faster, curling against that perfect, sensitive spot inside you while his tongue flicked relentlessly.
your fifth orgasm crashed through you hard, blindingly intense, your walls spasming violently as you squirted all over his face and tongue. jake moaned like it was the absolute best thing he’d ever tasted in his life, drinking every single drop he could, licking you clean with heavy, desperate laps without pulling away for even a second.
you were a complete mess—hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, thighs quivering uncontrollably, voice broken from screaming his name into the empty air.
your body was oversensitive to the point of pain now, every single touch feeling like an electric shock straight to your nerves. you were completely spent, hollowed out by pleasure, but jake was still right there, his breath hot and ragged against your soaked skin.
“too much—baby please—i can’t—i’m too sensitive—” you begged, tears pouring down your face.
you tried to close your legs, your muscles weak and twitching, but his strong arms kept them pinned wide open, locking your knees back against the mattress so you had no choice but to take him.
he finally looked up at you, his eyes dark and completely hazy with lust, his lips swollen and glistening with your wetness.
he looked entirely unhinged, completely consumed by you. “you can take it,” he whispered, his voice rough and scraping against his throat. “you’re doing so well for me, princess. just one more. please. i need to taste you cumming again. you’re so fucking addictive. i can’t get enough of you. look at what you do to me.”
before you could even formulate a protest, he dove right back in. his tongue was slightly gentler this time, slow and soothing, but no less determined, no less starved.
he licked long, dragging stripes through your folds, savoring every leftover drop of your release, then focused on your swollen, throbbing clit with soft, lazy circles that made your whole lower half twitch. his fingers stayed buried deep inside you, stroking slowly, keeping you wound up tight, right on the agonizing edge of another peak.
you were crying openly now, your body twitching with every single lap of his tongue. “jake—baby—please—i love you but i can’t—it’s too much—i’m gonna lose my mind—”
“shhh, i know, i know,” he murmured lovingly against your pussy, pressing soft, wet kisses to your aching clit, his hot breath making you shiver from head to toe. “but you’re so pretty when you cum for me. just let me have this. let me make you feel good. give it to me, baby.”
he sucked your clit gently into his mouth again, humming happily, a dark, primal sound of pure satisfaction as he worked you toward another orgasm.
your sixth one hit you like a slow, devastating wave, weaker than the others in volume but so much deeper, making your whole body convulse as you sobbed his name into the dark room.
jake kept licking you right through the entire spasm, drawing the pleasure out, swallowing everything you gave him until you were nothing but a shaking, whimpering puddle beneath him.
only then did he finally crawl up your body, his chest heavy and hot against yours. he kissed you deeply, a messy, bruising kiss so you could taste yourself all over his tongue, marking you with your own sweetness.
his hard cock pressed firmly against your thigh, twitching with need, but he made no move to fuck you.
he didn't even care about his own release right now, he was completely drunk on what he’d just done to you. he just held you close, his strong arms wrapping around your trembling waist, stroking your messy hair and kissing your tear-streaked cheeks with an intensity that made you dizzy.
“you’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice full of absolute awe, his chest heaving against yours. “i could eat this pretty pussy forever. i’m so fucking addicted to you. i don't think i'm ever gonna let you put clothes on again.”
you let out a weak, breathless laugh, clinging to his broad shoulders because your arms felt like lead. “you’re actually insane, jake sim.”
he grinned against your neck, a sharp, delighted little smile, and you could feel the dangerous spark in him hadn't faded at all.
his hands shifted, tracing down the curve of your waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips before his grip tightened again. "only for you, baby. only for you."
and just like that, before you could even realize what he was doing, his weight shifted. his hands slid right back down to the inside of your thighs, parting your trembling legs back out to the sides.
you let out a whimper of protest, your hands weakly pushing at his shoulders, but he was entirely immovable. his head disappeared right back between your thighs, his hot breath instantly hitting your raw, soaking wet skin.
"wait, please—" you gasped, your hips automatically trying to lift away from him, but his grip on your thighs was like iron.
he didn't even answer with words this time. he just let out a low, needy growl, burying his nose right back into your center.
his tongue licked a thick, wet path right over your hyper-stimulated clit, and your whole body locked up, a high-pitched cry ripping from your throat as the sheer overstimulation sent a jolt straight up your spine.
he was completely relentless.
he used his thumbs to part your swollen lips, exposing you fully to the cool air of the room for just a second before his warm, wet mouth closed around you again. he started sucking you with a rhythmic, heavy pull, his tongue flicking back and forth across the ultra-sensitive nub until you were thrashing against the sheets, your fingers digging into the mattress, tearing at the fabric because you had nowhere else to put the overwhelming sensation.
"please, jake, i'm too open, it hurts—it feels too good, please—" you screamed, your head tossing from side to side.
but jake was completely deaf to your pleas, entirely single-minded. he was high on the scent of you, drunk on the taste that seemed to cover his entire face.
he slid two fingers back inside your slick entrance, and you immediately clamped down around them, your walls tight and trembling from the exhaustion of so many orgasms. he groaned against your skin, the vibration almost too much to bear, and began to pump his fingers in a cruel, demanding pace, matching the frantic rhythm of his tongue.
he wanted to break you.
he wanted to see how many times he could make you shatter, wanted to fill his mouth with you until he couldn't breathe. his strokes grew messier, heavier, his jaw working hard as he devoured you, entirely shameless about how desperately he needed to feel you ruin yourself for him again.
your hips started to roll on their own, completely helpless against the onslaught. the heat was building again, impossible and terrifying, curling tight in your lower belly.
you couldn't handle another one, your body was too raw, too sensitive, but jake was dragging you right over the edge anyway, pulling you kicking and screaming into another peak.
"jake, jake, jake—" you chanted, your voice completely wrecked, sobbing as your hips gave a violent, involuntary jerk.
he knew exactly what that meant.
he increased the pressure, his tongue pressing hard against your clit, his fingers driving deep and fast, holding you perfectly still so you couldn't escape the pleasure.
and when your seventh orgasm tore through your exhausted body, it was a total collapse. you squirted and gushed violently against his mouth, your muscles contracting so hard it was almost a cramp, a broken wail leaving your lips as you completely lost control.
jake took every bit of it, swallowing hard, his eyes squeezed shut in pure ecstasy as he held you wide open, consuming your release like it was life-giving, completely unbothered by how much of a messy, beautiful disaster you both were.
@sacrificemura please do not copy, steal, repost, translate, or claim my work as your own.
wc ::: drabble length sharinote ::: contains dumbification and some other stuff! unprotected sex as well as mirror sex… also pet names (SLIGHT daddy kink… im so sorry) and overstimulation + squirting and maybs a little roughness. this isn’t proofread grrr :(
[porn no plot] just your boyfriend fucking you dumb and making you squirt 👻
'dumb baby...' your boyfriend relentlessly fucked into you from behind — his breath hot and fanning against you neck, fueling to the fire that was your arousal.
the mirror in front of you was just as foggy as your brain — your eyes clouded, and rolled back as you babbled incoherently. 'mmm...' a soft groan fell bubbling from between your lips.
'you're drooling everywhere, sweet girl...’ your boyfriend’s rough thrusts coming to a slow halt as his hands snaked around your body. ‘here… give daddy your chin, sweetheart.' his long slender fingers came crawling between the valley of your breasts and past your neck to firmly grip you cheeks.
'look at you, sweetheart. so, so pretty.' as he forced your face up and out of the sheets his lips met your own in a sloppy wet kiss — one filled with passion and desire. once more, his hips forcefully slammed against your ass — red from the friction as he buried himself deep within your sopping cunt.
'good girl...' his hand groped the swell of your breasts. as you were overwhelmed with pleasure, you could feel yourself slipping away. what you’d assumed to be your third, maybe fourth orgasm crept up on you. 'aht aht...’ he tutted in your ear. ‘want you to look... watch it, pretty girl.'
you could feel him roughly repositioning your face yet again to stare into your reflection.
he trailed kisses along your neck, chuckling warmly as he saw your eyes snap open in awe at the scene before you: your thighs littered in hickeys your lips puffy and swollen and your whole body quivering in absolute bliss.
'ah! s'too much... s'so deep!' you squirmed. he pressed on the bulge poking out from your lower abdomen. 'too deep? m'only right here... how about this?' harder. deeper. you suddenly hit the mattress, his grip on your waist faltering as he fucked into you with even more dedication... slamming you down and splitting you open for the umpteenth time on his cock... he continued bullying himself cozily into your cunt as he drilled further, and further within you velvety wet walls. ‘ffuck… always so tight aren’t you, baby?’
'ahw fuck, fuck mh!' gasping, your fingers knotted up in the sheets as you moaned uncontrollably… back arching far into the bed before he lifted you up yet again — his tip practically kissing your cervix.
‘shit! w-wait…’ the knot in your stomach began to wrap itself up. waves of pleasure threatening to fall and crash over you if he continued — which he did.
it only took a few more thrusts — each drag of his cock soothing your high as you’d finally came.
sharp thrust after sharp thrust… you took note of how he carefully overstimulated you. harshly rubbing your clit even after your orgasm. ‘shit! a-already… fuck… I already came.’ you pout, whining. ‘I know, just hold on, baby… need one more thing from you.’
‘unghhh!’ the male had lifted you up once more… your reflection not your own as you appeared completely ruined. ‘how’s it feel hm?’ your sore core ached — burning hot as you cried, leaning into his neck. ‘don’t hide.’
‘feels like im ‘gonna pee…’ you mumbled beneath your breath. he nodded. ‘good girl, let go f’me.’
another knot came forming in your tummy…
‘w-wait! ohmygodohmygod..!’ and clear liquid shot from between you legs. drenching the sheets and you and your boyfriend's thighs.
the two of you breathed heavily collapsing onto one another as he kissed your forehead. ‘angel girl…’ he purred. ‘did so good for me yeah?’
lee heuseng: yang jungwon: choi soobin: kang taehyun: jeong yunho: choi san: taesan: leehan: park gunwook: suh johnny: lee jeno: whoever else your little heart desires 🤍
A Drabble from the Mermaids Tale series, and dedicated to @hoonieshoney, my little Siren (if yk…then yk.) you did wonderful in your latest Drabble, so take this since you inspired this piece. Enjoy heedam 😈
Warnings: non con smut, dub-con, submissive reader, hesitation, cursing, unprotected smut in detail, breeding kink, baby trapping, unwanted pregnancy l, reader forced into getting pregnant, a slightly whiny Heeseung, this is based of the MT series so it may be confusing unless you’ve read the entire series (which is completed btw). Enjoy.
“Can you hear the ocean, baby?”
His voice submits you into a quivering quake of anticipation and fear. Yet there was something pleasing to the sense of danger in the arousal that forms inside, and he knows it. He creates it and makes you desire more, no matter how hard you try to fight against him.
“Tell me you can hear it.” He gently coos you as he rings his fingers and pushes back the strands of your hair aside, admiring your natural yet extraordinary features. Blessed as the descendant of Poseidon, your turquoise eyes glitter like the jewel itself, while your raving burgundy hair compliments the dark red lips. While many would initially mistake the colors of your DNA for colored contacts and hair dye, they would all drop dead upon finding out that it was all a reflection of your ancestors godly genealogy traits. “My beautiful siren. Sing for me, won’t you baby?”
You both lay facing each other. You didn’t have a choice, since he captured and held you against your will months ago, he’s forced you to sync with his schedule. Due to your recent good behavior, he clipped the chains and allowed you a certain amount of freedom in the room, even when he would be in the next one handling some business. However, no matter how much little freedom he permitted, you would never be allowed out of his grasp or sight. Rule of thumb was for you to remain within one hundred feet at all times, breaking that crucial rule resulted in you being locked away in the underground spa that he had costumed built, where the entire pool was surrounded by a smooth wall that caved the water in, similar to a well. The water came straight from the sea, and only a narrow stoop leading to the front door, escalating out of the shallow end allowed him to stand and watch you during his visits. The last time he had you locked in, forcing your transformation, he kept you as his pet and enjoyed keeping you in secrecy for nearly a whole month. The pool was deep. Below the surface, into the deeper end, the wall transition from brick stone to glass, where he could watch you from the other side in the underground chambers of a luxurious bedroom. Everytime you’d dive down and lurk to the bottom, you could see him sitting in a grand velvet chair, sipping in a glass of wine with his legs loosely crossed as he watched you in awe. How beautiful and magical did you look with your mermaid tail flowing behind.
Sometimes, he’d come up to the glass and press his palm flat against it, beckoning you to come up and flush your own with his. You knew better than to not come up when you’d hear the tapping of his fingers; disobeying him led to other punishments that were far too brutal. So even as much as you hated being treated as his little guppie in the wide aquarium, you had to pick your battles wisely.
All the more reason why you displayed your good girl behavior. You didn’t really realize that it was all part of his tactic in training you to become obedient, and respect the rules he set forth, all so he can keep you isolated and only where he can have you. Initially you behaved as part of a ploy to plot your escape, but day after day you found yourself becoming complacent, never finding the right moment to strike. You’ve attempted to use the Sirens Edge, yet he was far more immune to it than you expected. All thanks to his Adam traits mixed with the Siren DNA from the early ancestors of the clan. You hated to admit it, and still haven’t bend enough to fully do so, but little by little, you’ve come to accept your fate right this man in knowing that you’ll never escape and he’ll always keep you. The worst part? Someday you were going to be forced to bear him sons…all of which will continue the long pure lines of tradition in enhancing the longevity of the Clan of Adam.
Still, despite harboring such hatred and disgust towards him, his gentler and loving moments somewhat appealed to you. That was, after all, the whole reason why you were here. The reason why he caught and kept you. Punishing and training you…it was all because he loved you. Too much…
You hum a tune as he lays closely, his nose touching yours. He joins in as he recognizes the tune of your favorite song and incorporates the lyrics. “Sing either me baby.” Compelled to obey, you softly sing the lyrics. The mesh of both your voices combine a beautiful and harmonious sound that would put the entire world into a state of hypnotic slavery, for the women would abide by his demands under his serenade spell, and the men under yours.
The both of you continue to sing, and that’s when you notice his hands roaming. Please…not again.
“Keep singing.” He speaks against your skin darkly. You had to give it to him, he was devastatingly handsome and the alluring sense of his features only grew more wild as his eyes became darker and more dangerous. They nearly glowed purple, contrasting against your beautiful turquoise gems as he grips a fistful of hair on the back of your head. He pushes you flat against the bed, pressing his lips against yours. It was hard and abrasive, yet the beat of his passion weakened you. It was so contradicting how much you hated and enjoyed the feeling he made you experience.
During the kiss, he grabs on to your bicep and further pins you down, nearly digging you into the satin mattress. His free hand swipes up, riding along your inner thigh and it too, is pinned down against the sheets. He spreads you wide open, preparing you into prime position for him to plow into you, just as always.
Already half nude, he takes advantage of your full nudity as he unzips his trousers and whips out his member offensively. He was past the stage of sensuality and compassion, this was a night of lovemaking through the pure and shameful act of him fucking you into oblivion.
He was long, hard, and entirely too thick. Just looking at it reminded you of the painful sting you were subjected to during the first time, and the second, even the third. Hell, you can’t count how many times he’s taken you, all you know was that there was pain.
“Pl-please! Be gentle…your hurt me badly the last time.” You plead as you raise your hand and palm against his abdomen, gently pressing against it as he leans down and hovers above your frame. “But you ended up loving it, didn’t you?” He teases as he nibbles on your bottom lip.
You shake your head in denial, but he knew. He knew that with the pain, comes great pleasure. “N-no…” you murmured. He ignored your pitiful yelp and kisses you. Taking your hand in his, he drags it against the lean lines of his abdominal muscles and forced you to grab hold of his shaft, ensuring that every single one of your fingers are delicately wrapped around the circumference. All doing so without ever breaking the passionate kiss you enveloped you.
How cruel it was for him to make you feel it, especially since he enforced you to keep hold while he begins to plunge in. “Agh! No! No!” You moan out as the familiar sting bites you. “Shh…yes baby.”
Inch by inch, he slides in. You feel the length of his shaft growing shorter within your palm as he fills you; the strength of its form slipped away from your grasp only to be gripped by another part of you. Your inner muscles clench around his thickness, which sent your mind out of this world as you feel the form of his muscle twitch in response. You felt so good. Too good. The moment he felt your slick muscles clench, his head flings back and exposes his entire throat above you. It became the only view in your sight as you lay under him, forced to watch as he gulps out a moan and groans towards the ceiling while he goes further and further in. “Oh fuck…” he growls out as you squirm and shift, brows furrowed in to an expression of fear, worry, and pain. “Please…it’s too much…”
“Don’t worry baby…I’m going to take care of it in a second. Keep singing.” He winces his eyes shut for only a second before he lowers his head back down and stares into your eyes. “Give me many sons.”
You shake your head negatively as the remaining inch of him sinks into you. His balls kissing your skin as it mashes against your taint. “Please…too soon. I-I cant—“
“You can, and you will.” Was all he relayed before he starts his violent thrusts. Tonight, he wasn’t in the mood to make love, he was in the mood to breed…to mate. To make you carry a part of him and bring it to the world. He wanted to cum, to mix your bloodline with his. “Come on baby, turn me into a daddy. Let daddy’s dick make you into a mommy.”
You scream as he continues to fuck you into the mattress. Your hands fling around as you attempt to escape from under him, only for him to slap them away. But you were relentless, and continued to try and push him away. “Fucking hold still you little—“
He grits his words in slight annoyance as he pauses his thrusts and grabs on to your wrists, pinning them above your head as he takes his other hand and loops it around your upper thigh and pins it against your chest. Now he had more leverage to stroke his cock inside you more openly, and he did.
“Fuck…you feel even better like this.” He words out as he slams into you. The smooth length of his shaft squelches and squeezes its way in and out of you. The sound of his balls slapping into you started to work its magic and sent you into a delirious whirlwind of tingled pleasure.
“Oh my God!” You pant out as you gasp for air. He rests your thigh on his bicep to maintain the levitation of its position while his fingers creep up and gently caress your cheek. “Yeah? Fuck baby…just like that.” Through the ferocity of his act, he pants and groans out his words just as you did. While his lower half becomes more brutal, his lips and hands weee compassionate and sympathetic. There was that gentler tone of him that was lacking earlier. While he was continuously plunging in, he warmed your cheeks with the smooth swipe of his thumb as he wiped away the subtle tears that emerged from your gorgeous eyes.
“Fuck y/n—“ he pants out once more as he pauses to prop his weight on the balls of his kneecaps. Looping his arms around your kier back, he intertwined his fingers as they rest right above your derrière, elevating it off the bed, turning you into a human pendulum. he continued his unlawful movements as gravity takes effect and forces your shoulder blades to sink into the bed as he raises your pelvis higher against his abdomen. “Pleaese-please-please-please—“ you gasp out violently in sync with his thrusts, hoping he would slow down. Instead, he goes harder, faster, and deeper, digging into soft tissue as he penetrates deep into the abyss of your womb as he strikes in and out, tapping that soft spot that causes you to leak onto his shaft, permitting him to slide in and out effortlessly.
He takes a hand and moves it against the center of your chest, smoothing it all the way up against your throat, and under your chin. His thumb reaches up and makes its way into your mouth. You yell out your moans as the image of him using only one arm bridging under your rear and stabilizing your lower frame to fuck into you caused you to grow dizzy. He was strong. So strong.
The sound of skin meshing together with the sticky juices thickening as a result of the constant thrust made you gasp even more. It synchronized with the tempo of his thrusts and you could barely catch your breath. He was not far behind. With his tenacity in going deeper, the obsession of tasting the internal side of you, it was all enough to make his heart stop beating. “Y/n…my beautiful siren.” The last bit came out slightly whiny as his cock twitches violently. You could feel it.
“W-wait! Heeeeung!”
He was close, you could tell. As much as you were forced to enjoy this, and you did, the question of whether you were ready for motherhood became absolute in the sense that you weren’t ready. You can’t, not yet. Because the moment you do become pregnant with this man’s child, that means you won’t be able to escape…ever.
“Please…not-not inside!” You moan out, once again palming his lower abdominal muscles, a pitiful attempt in pushing him away. But it was no use. The second he cupped your own hand and held it in place as his thrusts increased in pace and became sloppy, the loud grunts coming from his mouth matched the momentum of his hips as he kept going in and out.
In and out.
In and…
“Heeseung stop! I can’t be a mother! Please!”
Ignoring your pleading, he takes his thrusts deeper as he shoots his cum deep inside. His head flings back once more, mouth wide open as he faces the ceiling and gulps out a growl as his hand slowly smooths over your mouth to cover your scream. “T-take it…fucking get pregnant.” He stutters as every single muscle on his body twitches while he releases his entire orgasm inside you. His eyes remained closed as he locates your tongue and feeds his fingers into your mouth, rubbing the inside of your cheek as he forces you to suck on them. You hiccup a few sobs as you look down and see him planted deep inside you, still pumping his seeds into your womb. “Y-you…you really tried this time…didn’t you?” You wailed as you quietly sobbed, fearing that he achieved his goal. “U-uh huh….” He lazily tuned out with his face still flushed with the ceiling, leaving only the view of his Adam’s Apple in sight for you to view as you watched it bob up and down when he responded.
Sure, he had never pulled out the other times, but he never railed into you as vigorously like he did tonight. Sighing out a deep breath, he finally lowers his head once more and lays on top of you, mashing his sweaty chest against your breasts. Choking out a chuckle, his fingers, coated in your saliva, trace lines along your face. Smirking, he darkly whispers against your lips…
“Now you’re never going to be able to escape from me.”
He was right. You’re never going to be able to leave, even if you had the chance to get to the sea, you won’t be able to find it within your heart to abandon the child he’s left inside you just now. From here on out, you were no longer a descendant of Poseidon…you were now a mother a part of the clan. Mother of an Adam.
Heeseung loves you in the way storms love the shore. Hard, repeating and certain you’ll never change. You’ve tried to break free, but the leash is still there—in your thoughts, in your breath, in your silence when he calls. He never had to trap you because you always stayed.
It's past midnight when the knock comes. Not a frantic one. Just steady, like Heeseung knows you're awake. Like he knows you're standing on the other side, hand hovering over the doorknob, breath caught in your throat.
You don't move. You tell yourself not to. But then you hear him. "Come on, baby." His voice is low, sweet, and mocking all at once. "Open up. I miss you."
You squeeze your eyes shut when you hear him chuckle. "I can feel you hesitating. Don't make me wait, angel."
And god help you—you open the door. Heeseung stands there like a ghost from your worst mistake. Hoodie on, hood up, eyes glinting like he already knows he's won. "There's my girl," he murmurs, stepping in without invitation. His hand catches your chin as he walks past you, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Took you long enough."
You met Heeseung at the café you worked at, it was nothing glamorous. Just a corner spot near the financial district, where you were usually stuck behind the counter wiping tables or pouring coffee with aching wrists. He walked in one Friday morning in a suit that fit too well and a gaze that settled on you like he already knew he'd ruin you.
He was polite, charming even. Called you pretty the second time he came in. By the fifth visit, he wasn't ordering coffee anymore—just sitting at the back table, watching you with quiet interest, leaving hundred-dollar tips like he was paying for your attention.
You didn't stand a chance.
He asked for your number in that soft, coaxing voice. Took you out that weekend. Took you shopping the one after. Bought you things you never asked for, always with that same sweet grin. "You work so hard," he'd say, sliding a bag across the table. "Let me spoil you a little."
And when the sweetness soured, when the manipulation began, subtle and sharp, you barely even noticed. Not at first, at least.
The first time he made you cry, he showed up the next day with flowers and a new phone.
When he snapped at you for texting someone he didn't like, he replaced your entire wardrobe the following week.
When he went too far, when his jealousy turned cruel, when his anger turned cold, he always begged for forgiveness with expensive perfume and new jewelry. Whispered "I love you" like it was a bandage.
Money became his language of apology. Control wrapped in tissue paper and designer bags.
By the time you realized what he'd done to you, how he'd cut you off from your friends, how you flinched when your phone buzzed, how you stopped smiling when you walked into work, it was already too late.
He had his claws in.
There was one night, months before you finally left, when he accused you of flirting with one of his friends.
Heeseung had taken you to dinner with a few of his friends—casual, nothing special. You barely spoke unless someone addressed you directly, always cautious, always polite. But one of the guys made a joke, lighthearted and harmless. You smiled, maybe even laughed a little.
That was enough for Heeseung.
Later that night, the car ride home was tense. You knew the silence too well by then, you knew it meant something was festering.
The second you stepped inside his apartment, he closed the door too softly. That kind of soft that screams danger louder than a slam.
"You looked real happy talking to him tonight," he said, voice level but hollow.
You froze at the sink. "What are you talking about?"
"You think I didn't see it?" Heeseung stepped closer. "The way you smiled at him. Like I wasn't sitting right there."
Your heart started pounding. "I was being polite, Hee. That's it."
"Polite?" He laughed, humorless. "You really think I don't see what you're doing?"
He raised his hand to run his fingers through his hair. It wasn't even fast but it was in rising anger and you flinched.
It was instinctive, immediate—your whole body recoiling like it had happened before. It hadn't. Not physically. Heeseung had never hit you.
But something about the way he could had already been planted deep inside you. Like you expected it now, like your body was just bracing for impact.
The silence that followed was worse than the shouting. Worse than anything.
You watched his expression collapse in real time—shock first, then guilt, then something fragile and crumbling that almost looked like heartbreak.
"No—fuck, baby, no. I wasn't gonna—" His voice cracked. "You really think I'd hit you?"
You didn't answer. You didn't even know how. Tears welled up in his eyes before yours did. He sank onto his knees with a devastated expression, dragging his hands through his hair.
"I'm not a monster," he whispered. "Jesus. I'd never...I wouldn't even think of that. Baby, do you really think I'm like that?"
You remember kneeling beside him, his arms wrapping around you like a trap made of silk, him repeating I'm sorry over and over until you almost believed him.
The next few days after that, he went overboard. Showed up at your work with a designer bag. The same brand your friend always carried—except this one was a higher tier, newer collection, rarer color.
He handed it to you with a smile and a kiss. "I saw hers the other day and thought—why shouldn't you have the better version of what she's flaunting?"
You didn't even question it. Not then.
He told you she was jealous of you. That she always had been. That she only kept you around because she wanted to compete. That you were prettier. Smarter. That you didn't need friends who secretly wanted to be you.
The bag glimmered in the light, expensive and perfect. Looking almost like a bribe, like an apology that cost too much to question, like something shiny to distract you from everything he was quietly taking away.
And the worst part? It absolutely worked.
The breakup hadn't been loud. It wasn't a screaming match or a shattered wine glass or slammed doors.
It was quiet. You told him you couldn't do it anymore, couldn't keep shrinking just to keep the peace, couldn't keep doubting yourself every time you made eye contact with another man, couldn't keep apologizing for things you never even did.
He hadn't expected it.
He stood there in your doorway, stunned like he didn't understand the language you were speaking. His voice cracked when he asked, "So that's it? After everything I've done for you?"
But you didn't change your mind. Not even when he showed up every day after that. Not even when there were flowers at your door. Expensive gifts you never asked for. Apologies in the form of designer jewelry, handwritten notes, voice messages at 3AM. A slow descent from devotion to desperation.
And when none of that worked, when you didn't answer his texts or let him in, his begging soured into something else.
Frustration. Entitlement. A low simmering anger beneath the surface of every "I miss you" that started sounding more like a threat than a plea.
You thought ignoring him would be enough. It really wasn't.
You woke up one night with the eerie sensation that something was wrong. Your room was still dark, but your body stiffened when you realized you weren't alone in the bed.
Heeseung.
Pressed to your side like he belonged there. Arm slung over your waist. Face buried in your hair like he hadn't let himself in while you were sleeping.
Your heart slammed in your chest. You jerked away with a sharp gasp. "What the fuck—Heeseung?!"
He blinked slowly like he'd just woken up. "Hey," he murmured, voice heavy with sleep. "You left your door open."
You hadn't.
"You can't be here," you choked out, panic rising. "Get out. Get the fuck out."
But he didn't. He reached for you immediately. You tried to push him away, but that only seemed to make him more determined and that's when he kissed you.
Desperate and deep. As though kissing was a language he could use to convince you instead. You'd resisted at first, trembling, trying to pull back, but it was him, it was Heeseung, and your body remembered the way he used to hold you when things were good, the way his voice would crack when he whispered he loved you.
And like always...he knew exactly which pieces of you to press until you broke for him completely.
His hand slid down, thumb dragging between your legs until your whimper betrayed you. Until the betrayal was yours too.
He pushed into you like he never left, groaning in your ear, clinging to your hips like you were being reunited instead of undone.
"You still feel like mine," he whispered against your neck, breath ragged. "You can't tell me you don't miss this."
You didn't answer.
He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your throat. "I'll be better. For you," he swore, fucking you harder like the rhythm itself could convince you. "I swear. I'll stop being so jealous. You don't have to be scared of me anymore. Just—just come back to me. Please."
You'd cried under him.
Not just from the overwhelming heat, not just from the way he made your body submit, but from the way you hated yourself for giving in, hated that a part of you still ached for the version of him you fell in love with.
But that version was dead. It'd died long ago. And whatever had crawled into your bed now didn't care.
Because he still finished inside you, still moaned about how perfect you were, how you belonged to him. How this meant you weren't really over him.
He kissed your trembling fingers as you lay there numb, still shaking, still silent. "I know you don't mean it," he whispered. "All that stuff you said. You still love me. Right?"
You still couldn't answer and Heeseung took your silence as a yes.
You deleted every trace of him after that night—photos, texts, blocked his number, even told your friends to stop you if you ever mentioned his name again.
But it didn't matter.
Because Heeseung never truly left.
He still shows up like nothing happened. Still finds his way into your apartment, into your bed, into your head. And every time you tell yourself it's the last time, he tilts your chin up, smirks like he owns you, and says, "Did you miss me, baby?"
The worst part? Your body answers before your mouth can.
He ruined you for anyone else. No one touches you like he does. No one talks to you like he does. He calls you his pretty little toy, pulls your hair when you disobey, whispers filth into your ear until your legs are shaking and your mind goes blank. You cry and beg and tremble for a man you swore you'd never let touch you again.
And now he's standing here in your apartment again calling you his girl.
"I'm not your girl." you try, voice fragile, but he's already stepping inside. You walk away without looking back, already halfway to the bedroom when you ask,
"What do you want, Heeseung?" A stupid question. You already know. The second the lock clicked and he stepped over the threshold, the air shifted. He was always going to follow. You knew it in your bones, in the silence that thickened behind you with each step. You should've kept the door shut. Should've kept your mouth shut. But now he's here, moving through your space the way he always does—uninvited, inevitable.
He kisses you.
And for one blessed second, you don't move. You keep your hands at your sides. You clench your jaw, trying to pretend you don't feel that familiar ache, the one he planted in your bones months ago and never let die.
But he's gentle, almost mocking in the way he presses his lips to yours, dragging it out like a dare. "You miss me?" he breathes against your mouth.
You turn your head. "No."
He hums, tilts your chin with two fingers. "Liar."
Then he kisses you again—deeper this time, thumb stroking your jaw as his tongue slips into your mouth, and that's when you feel your whole body trembling with need. Your knees give first, followed by your resolve.
You grab onto his hoodie like it'll steady you, gasping into him, letting him press you back into the wall.
You should tell him to stop, push him away, tell him you're done for real this time, that this isn't healthy, that you're not the same girl he broke. But your mouth betrays you, just like your body already has.
Because you're already letting him slip your shorts down. Already lifting one leg for him so he can settle between your thighs as he slides down to his knees.
"Fuck," he exhales, almost devout as he stares at your cunt, wet and wanting and all his again. "Look at you. Always so ready for me."
You swallow hard, your fingers curling into his hair as he kisses the inside of your thigh, slow and open-mouthed, breathing hot against your skin.
He looks up at you from between your legs, pupils blown and lips wet, you feel it again—that pathetic ache, that invisible leash he still keeps around your throat.
It should feel like power, like you have the upper hand, spread open above him, his mouth on you, his body lower than yours.
But it doesn't. Not with Heeseung.
Because even here—especially here—he's still in control. The way he touches you, slow and certain, mapping out the places he knows you'll break. Like he's reminding you this is his. The grip he has on your hips, the heat of his mouth, the way he knows exactly how to fuck you open with his tongue until you're gasping and grinding and begging for more.
Your hands fly to his hair and you try to take something back, try to make him yours, but he just lets you. Smirking into you like it's cute that you think you have any power here.
You're dripping down his chin, thighs shaking, spine arched off the wall, shaking by the time he pulls away from you, lips wet, chin glistening. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks up at you like he just tasted something sweet and owned it.
"Turn over," he says.
You hesitate. Just long enough for your eyes to meet his—dark, commanding, utterly unbothered—and you're already moving. Already crawling up the bed on shaky limbs, already letting him manhandle you onto your stomach like it was never a question.
Heeseung climbs over you slowly. Methodically. Like a predator getting comfortable in its favorite hunting ground.
His hand slides between your shoulder blades, flattening you against the mattress, his cock heavy and hard grinding against your ass. You whimper, already wrecked and dizzy from his mouth—but he hasn't even started.
And when he finally pushes his cock in, it's like your lungs collapse. You're soaked for him. Way too ready. Too familiar. Your body remembers him, opens up like it never stopped craving this. And he sinks in all the way, one slow, devastating thrust that has you clawing at the sheets.
"Fuck," he breathes, burying himself deep. "Missed this pussy."
You try to protest, you really do. Try to find the breath to tell him this doesn't mean anything, that this isn't you two again.
But then he starts moving. Hard and deep. Almost as if he's punishing you for ever walking away into the first place. Your legs are shaking, moans muffled into the pillow, his name spilling out of your mouth over and over, helpless and needy.
"You know we're back together now, right?" he murmurs in your ear, hips snapping against your ass, cock dragging along your walls and hitting that spot he knows makes you keen. "You letting me fuck you like this? It's done, baby. You're mine again."
You gasp, the words barely registering under the pressure of his thrusts. "We’re back together," he says again, gritting his teeth. "Say it."
You shake your head, a whimper catching in your throat.
"I said say it."
"W—We’re b—back together—!," you breathe, barely audible.
He groans cause you know that's all he needed. That's his reward. He drags you up by the waist, forcing you to arch for him, pounding into you deeper now, every thrust sending you higher, closer, ruined.
"You think I'd let you go just like that?" he growls. "After all the shit we've been through?"
Your head lolls back against his shoulder, and you nod. Not because you believe it—but because you're too far gone to argue, whimpering when he pushes you back into the sheets.
You're shaking, face buried in the sheets, body arching helplessly with each brutal thrust. Heeseung's pace is relentless and sharp, punishing even, as if he's trying to fuck the memory of him back into you.
It's too much.
You reach back blindly, hand fumbling against his hip, fingers curling in a weak attempt to push him away, to slow him down, to just breathe.
But he catches your wrist with one hand and slams into you harder. "Don't," he snaps, voice low and dangerous in your ear. "Don't fucking run now."
He pins your hand to the small of your back, holding you there, twisted beneath him and completely at his mercy. You whimper, legs trembling, mouth open in a silent cry as he drives into you again and again, each thrust deeper, meaner.
"Should've known better," he grits out, "than to think I'd let you go."
Your walls pulse around him, overwhelmed, overstimulated, ruined. And all you can do is take it—take him—while he reminds your body exactly who it belongs to.
His breath is hot against your neck, lips brushing your skin like a taunt.
Your whole body's gone pliant under him, muscles trembling, cries muffled into the sheets. His thrusts keep getting more and more brutal—sharp, full-bodied, relentless—every snap of his hips punching the breath out of you.
He lets out a broken groan, right in your ear. "Shit—Baby—I'm so fucking close."
You panic.
Your hand scrambles back again, weaker this time, just resting over his wrist on your hip. You're already too far gone to stop him—but you try. And your voice is a breathless whimper, high and thin.
"Hee—pull out. I'm not—I'm not on the pill anymore."
He halts his thrusting but only for a second.
And then you feel him smirk against your shoulder, his breath catching in a dark little laugh. He pushes in deeper, slower this time, grinding his cock into you like he owns your womb.
"Yeah?" he murmurs, all faux innocence. "Why, angel? You don't wanna have my baby?"
You whimper again, shaking your head, but he doesn't stop. Heeseung just fucks you harder.
"Thought you were mine," he says, low and taunting. "Letting me fuck you raw, crying all sweet—now you're scared? Hm?"
His hand slides under you and over your stomach, palm flat like he's already claiming what's inside.
"You think I wouldn't put a baby in you just to make sure you never fucking leave again?"
You cry out, overwhelmed, overstimulated, trembling so hard it borders on pain, but it doesn't matter. Not to him.
Because he's so close. And now he's chasing it.
"You gonna take it?" he breathes. "Let me fill you up like you're supposed to?"
You're gasping, moaning, sobbing something that's probably "please"—but even you don't know if it's for it or against it.
And he finishes with a growl, burying himself to the hilt, cock pulsing deep as he spills into you, holding your hips down like he's planting it there, it triggers your own orgasm that hits you harder than a tidal wave. “Oh my god! Heeseung! Please—!”
He continues to fuck you through it, pushing his cum deeper into you, making you whimper from the sharp overstimulation.
Your body goes limp beneath him, skin flushed and slick, the sheets tangled and ruined around your legs. You're still panting, breath caught somewhere between a sob and a moan, the inside of your thighs sticky with his cum.
Heeseung doesn't move right away.
He stays buried in you for a beat longer than necessary, trying to seal something in, his hand splayed over your stomach, claiming it.
And then, slowly—so fucking gently—he pulls out.
You flinch, legs twitching, whimpering from the sudden emptiness.
"Shh," he soothes, brushing your hair back with a tenderness that shouldn't belong to someone like him. "You did so good."
Your throat feels so dry, your limbs are nearly boneless and your mind is fogged over with everything he just took from you.
And then he reaches for something you hadn’t even notice him place on the nightstand. You hear it before you see it—the tiny click of a velvet box opening.
And your blood immediately runs cold.
"Heeseung," you croak, voice thin and hoarse.
But he's already slipping the ring onto your finger.
It's simple, delicate, beautiful even, but so so wrong.
"Looks good on you," he murmurs. Like it's just another part of your body he's claimed. “Don’t you think?”
You try to pull your hand back—too slow, too weak—and he catches it in his. "You'd marry me, right?" he says, not even asking. Just stating it, like it's already done. "You're gonna marry me."
You're shaking your head, tears starting to burn, but he just kisses your knuckles like a man in love.
"Doesn't matter what your friends think. Doesn't matter what you think either," he adds, voice dropping dark and low. "You're mine."
His hand returns to your stomach, palm flat, firm.
"You're probably already pregnant anyway."
You choke on a breath.
"We'll move away," he says, almost dreamily. "Somewhere quiet. You won't need anything but me."
And you know he means it. Every word. Every plan he's made without you. Every delusion he's turning into your very reality.
You're still half-naked. Still wet with him. Still caught in that foggy, ruined daze.
And now you're engaged.
Whether you even said yes or not.
• a/n: i hope this satisfies all the toxic heeseung fic reqs i got (there were a lot) i think one shots are my new thing, also GUYS MY FIC REQS ARE CLOSED
heeseung couldn't control himself after his shoots with sunghoon for d'icon, the boy just looked so adorable resting his head on his shoulder, so vulnerable, so edible and consequences be damned, he was going to take full advantage of this opportunity.
— when the deadline hit, your landlord gave you an option that made paying rent the least of your worries.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ -> :Parings: (Landlord) Heeseung x reader.ᐟ -
⊹ ࣪ ˖ -> :Genres: ( MDNI ),paying rent with your body, , necktie pulling, smut, everything is consensual , Spit-Trail Kiss, grown Adult romance ,(m) receiving and (f) receiving; ,freaky heeseung mentioned ,switch heeseung included , big d heeseung included , protection used , Landlord heeseung included , small age-gap included (2-4 years apart ) , Deep and husky / raspy voice heeseung included , he talks you through it , older heeseung included , Hickie's included , Pet names included (examples like : Sir, and ect ) , heeseung likes being called DADA, heeseung has man Tata’s , Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Deep Voice/Whispering, Encouragement, Financial Power Play, Broad shoulders heeseung , Paid In Kind, Contractual Relationship, Moral Ambiguity (Light), Evolving Power Dynamic, Overstimulated Submissive (M/F), Nipple Play (Male), Rough Kissing, Heavy Breathing, Collar Play, After care included, Internal Ejaculation, Visible Bulge Post-Ejaculation, , learning how to do your first blow job , riding the dih for the first time , experienced heeseung included , not fully experienced reader included , reader is (24 ) , heeseung / Evan is (28), creampie!, fingering and squirting included , if you squint closely size kink , pussy deprived eater included ,Both of them are consenting adults .
⊹ ࣪ ˖ -> : sypnosis: The rent is late. Critically, impossibly late.You live in an apartment complex owned by the notorious Mr. Lee—or, as everyone knows him, Heeseung or Evan—and he’s finally come to collect. You expected an eviction notice. Instead, the older man with the deep, authoritative voice offers a different kind of payment plan: a strictly consensual, transactional arrangement where your body becomes the collateral for your debt. The deadline is past, the desperation is real, and the cost of keeping your home is becoming Heeseung’s most treasured tenant.
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