Summary: Yunho starts your 3rd lesson of 8: Fingering.
Note: Each member will have their own post. This is a series and I will update this post each time I post the next chapter. Please be patient and feel free to offer suggestions ❤️
Content Warning: ⚠️ 18+ NO MINORS. Reader is innocent sexually. Nipple play. Groping. Yunho is kinda dom here but mainly just confident. Gets a bit subby at the end. Fingering. Clit play. Multiple orgasms. First hand job. Squirting. Reader is soft for Yunho. Dirty talk.
You got a text from Yunho a few hours after dinner inviting you to his room for some tv. You went prepared in your pajamas, no bra included, knowing no tv would truly be watched.
The truth is, you had always had quite the crush on Yunho. He was always so sweet and kind, always making you feel at ease. You felt a lot more giddy going in for this lesson than the others so far, wondering what the sexy side of Yunho may look like.
Yunho opened the door before you could even knock, making you jump.
“I heard you skipping down the hall. Are you that excited for re-runs?” He chuckled, leaving the door open for you to follow him inside:
The lights were off, the only light illuminating the room was the tv that played a tv show both do you had watched a million times. It was familiar, comfortable. Yunho sunk down onto his mattress, pointing down to the spot next to him.
“Come sit. But, please lock the door first.” He told you, his tone shifting ever so slightly at the second ask. You felt yourself get goosebumps but tried to ignore them, locking the door and prancing over where he was.
You laid down next to Yunho on his soft bed. He was propped up on his side, a soft smile making you feel welcomed. He placed his hand gently onto your waist and used his thumb to rub soothing strokes over the area.
“So, you’ve done two lessons now. I heard they went well.”
“Yeah, I think they went okay.” You felt your cheeks get hot, forgetting the fact Mingi and Wooyoung, and after this Yunho, would all go and report back to the others about what had happened each lesson.
“Do you think the tutorials are helping?” There was a small laugh behind the words.
“Yes, I think they are. I’m really finding out a lot about myself too.” You admit, thinking back through the day of all the times you enjoyed something you never thought of or didn’t know could feel good.
“Good. I hope you find more about yourself during this lesson as well.” Yunho started to rub his hand slowly over your abdomen, his long fingers shaping around your skin comfortably. You looked up at him through your lashes, finding him staring back at you softly. Butterflies started to fly around in your stomach. Yunho was absolutely beautiful.
“So, um, what are we going to be doing?” You ask, trying to ignore how high his fingers have traveled upwards. His fingertips rubbing just below your breasts.
“For your last class of the day, I’m going to show you what it’s like to be fingered.” His voice was a bit low, setting the mood. “Is that okay with you?”
You bit your lip, nodding your head without saying a word. Your eyes flickered down to his hand. God, they were attractive. You didn’t even know you could find hands attractive before you saw Yunho’s. His fingers were long and slender, veins bulging from arms down over the tops of his hands. Not to mention, they were massive. He was the perfect choice for this class.
“Fingering is a very important part of foreplay. Or, it can also be the main event.” He began to explain, his fingers still drawing patterns against you. “Do you know what foreplay is?”
“Yeah, it’s stuff that helps with the lead up to sex.” You mumble shyly to him.
“Right. Something to get each other turned on. Or get each other off a few times before.” Your eyebrows raised imagining having more than one orgasm. You could hardly handle having one at this point.
“So, when I want to finger a girl I know I need to make sure she’s comfortable and turned on.” He scooted his body a bit closer to you and laid himself with his lips close to your ear.
“Sometimes rubbing your hands over the body is a good way to start. Like, rubbing over their waist.. up between their breasts.. the shoulders… and finally grabbing the back of their neck.” As he spoke, his hand followed the route of his words. His fingers taking their time over your clothes and skin. Your breath quickening when you felt his fingers drag themselves between your breasts, so close to touching the mounds. And, once his fingers found their way to the back of your neck, you thought all your air had been stolen from your lungs.
“Now, let’s review a lesson from your first class..” Yunho pulled you to him to gently press his lips against yours. You turned to press yourself against him, melting into his chest as he kissed you. These kisses were slow and sensual, no rush involved. And, when your tongues finally met, you couldn’t help but groan from the satisfaction of finally getting what you wanted in that moment.
As you continued to kiss, Yunho dragged his hand down your neck and back over your chest, fingers wrapping themselves around the curve of your breast. He squeezed the soft mound, finding your decision to not wear a bra pretty daring. He flattened his fingers and started to rub circles around your nipple, making it hard under the fabric of your top.
“I love that you’re sensitive here.” He told you, his voice light and teasing. “You’re too cute. Let me see them.”
He slid his hand down and pushed up your top, your finished taking it off by pulling it over your head and throwing it aside. Your nipples were puffy from your day of play.
“They’re perfect.” Yunho praised you, then brought his lips down to wrap around your sensitive bud. You moaned, grinding your hips up into nothing, hoping something would come between your thighs and give you relief. Yunho switched to your other nipple, making sure both got the same attention. Each suckle electing a whimper to come out of your mouth until both of you couldn’t take it anymore.
He dragged his fingers down your stomach, drawing a circle around your belly button with his index finger. A shiver ran through you when you realized where he was heading. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to prepare yourself for his touch.
“Hey, don’t do that.” He told you softly. “Look at me, okay?”
You opened your eyes to look at him. He was studying your face and how you reacted to every stroke of his fingers. He knew you were nervous now, and he wanted to help. But he also wanted to watch your expression when he finally dipped his fingers into you.
“I’m going to ease you into it. Make sure you’re ready. If I go in too quickly and you’re not ready, it’s going to ruin the moment.” He told you while he slid his fingers under your waistband between your panties and your pants. His fingers sliding down the front of you, cupping your heat with his hand, and giving it a gentle squeeze that made you gasp.
“You feel so warm.” He whispered to you, leaning in to give you a slow passionate kiss on the lips. While his mouth was on yours, he started to use his fingers to stroke you with light touches over your panties.
To your embarrassment, this made you moan loudly into the kiss. You had never dreamed this was how another person touching you down there would feel. And it wasn’t even direct contact. Yunho smirked, continuing his light touches. In your panties, your pussy started to throb. You could feel your arousal leak into your underwear as you slowly started to cream. You bucked your hips up, trying to create more pressure and friction with his hand.
“Ah that’s what I was looking for.” He said, making circles over your entrance on your panties. Fingering focusing on the growing damp spot that was leaking through the fabric. “Are you ready to feel my fingers baby?”
“Yes.” You whimper. “I’m ready.”
Yunho helped you shimmy off your bottoms and panties, throwing them onto the floor next to the bed. You started to feel a tiny bit shy, laying completely naked now next to him. Your legs closing shut, unsure how to begin.
“Here.” He wrapped his hand around the leg closest to him and draped it over his hip, spreading your legs open. You were exposed to him now, your folds spread and soaking. He grazed his fingers down the inside of your thigh, fingers stopping just before they got to your pussy. Yunho raised up his head to look between your legs, biting his lip when he caught a glimpse.
“You have such a pretty pussy.” He groaned, his voice almost a whine. The sound was so pretty you wanted to give him a better look, spreading your thighs even wider apart. He cursed under his breath, and finally brought his hand down to touch you.
“I like to tease first.” He told you, voice thick as he took his index finger and traced it around the folds of your labia. “I like to make people squirm. To create a buildup. It makes it more satisfying when I finally decide to give you what you want.”
He continued to trace his fingers around your folds, occasionally pulling at them to spread you open and tug at your nerves. But not yet touching the real areas you needed him to. After a while, you could feel your wetness start to drip down past your entrance and down towards the sheets.
“And then, once you’re nice and dripping-“ you suddenly felt two of Yunho’s fingers press against your entrance, swiping up your arousal. “-I like to see how far I can take you.”
Yunho dragged his fingers up your slit and to your clit, dragging his long fingers in slow circles around the nub. Both your hands shot up to grab him by the forearm, wanting to find some sort of control over the hand that was providing you with pleasure unfathomable to your brain.
Your whimpers came out uncontrolled, a complete mess under his touch. Yunho brought his lips back down to yours to swallow your sounds deliciously on his tongue. You rocked your hips back and forth, trying to find the rhythm with his fingers.
“Are you ready to take my fingers, baby?” He asked, his fingers inching down towards your clenching hole.
“I’ve been ready.” You say through your quivering voice, making Yunho chuckle.
“I’m sorry for making you wait.”
Yunho pushed the tip of his middle finger into your entrance, the feeling almost making you cum on the spot. Every knuckle he pushed in after adding a deeper set of pleasure that slid against your needy walls.
“Every pussy is different.” Yunho behinds to explain, fingers starting to slowly move around inside of you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Some like just to be filled, some like long slow strokes, fast, deep and hard. And some don’t like penetration at all, only wanting you to touch their clit.”
His shoulder started to pump his hand in and out of you. His finger was dragged out almost all the way, then pushed back inside while Yunho stared down at you. The pace was torturing but also made him feel deliciously deep inside of you. His finger scraping across a sensitive spot each time he thrusted in.
“I wonder what you will like. Should we try them all?” You could hardly open your eyes, completely consumed by the pleasure being pumped into you. This was the long and slow technique, and you were loving it completely. You were practically creaming around his fingers already.
“It’s. So. Good.” You mumble each word through broken gasps, the words giving Yunho the satisfaction of knowing he was doing a good job. He pushed forward with the lesson, switching up his technique. He curled up his fingertip, pushing across your g-spot with more pressure. His speed now getting quicker, his thrust however, more shallow and precise.
“God-!” You moaned, lifting your head to watch him fuck his finger into you. Your pussy was squelching from the quick pace, wetness soaking his hand.
“Mmm, you like it hard and fast, don’t you?” He growled at you, suddenly losing every hint of sweetness in his voice. He was hungry and wanted to make you come apart. And, knowing this was your first time with anyone’s fingers but your own inside, he knew he had to do it big.
He pressed his finger against your clit, stimulating the sensitive nub while he continued to finger-fuck you. You let out a cry and your thighs started to shake from the building pleasure.
“You are so pretty with my fingers inside of you.” He cooed at you, remembering that Mingi and Wooyoung said you loved dirty talk. Something you both had in common. “Are my fingers making you feel good?”
“Yes, Yunho, so fucking good.” You cried out, desperation oozing through your tone. Yunho brought his lips up to your ear, his breath sending a shiver through you.
“Do you want to cum on my fingers? Hmm?” He said, his voice whiny and almost degrading. You didn’t care though, you found it oddly attractive. Eyes rolling back in your head when he asked. “Answer me, baby.”
“Yes! Oh my god, please. Please make me cum.” You begged, walls clamping down around him. He groaned, groaning the next words through gritted teeth.
“Give it to me. Cum all on my fingers like a good girl.”
You orgasm hit you in a dramatic fashion. A raw scream left your throat, your body closing up around Yunho’s arm while you convulsed. His fingers still moving inside and out of you until you went limp against the mattress. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, bringing along a few more convulsions.
You were panting heavily, head spinning as you tried to catch your breath and come back down to earth. You couldn’t believe how good it felt to cum like that. From somebody else’s touch.
Yunho laid his hand flat against your pussy, feeling it pulse under his hand with aftershocks. He smiled down at you, pleased at how satisfied you looked.
“I take it you liked that?” He chuckled, admiring your blissful facial expression.
“I loved it.” You giggled, head feeling like it was still up in the clouds. “Did you like it?”
“Did I like it? Me?” He laughed and then used his hand to point down at his crotch. His dick was bulging out of his sweats, rock hard against the grey fabric. “I’m hard as fuck right now.”
“I’m sorry.” You giggled, covering your face in embarrassment but still looking at his bulge through the spaces in your fingers.
“Don’t be sorry.” He told you, laughing lightly. “It’s nothing I can’t take care of.”
His words gave you flashbacks of your lesson with Wooyoung. Watching him jerk off, releasing in his fist while watching you touch yourself.. the noises he made. It gave you an idea. Something you wanted to try, if Yunho let you.
“Could I-“ you stuttered, but pushed through the nerves. “Can I help you? Take care of it?”
“You want to help me cum?” Yunho’s voice was thick as honey, but full of surprise.
“I mean, you’ve shown me how you’d get me off with your hands. Shouldn’t you show me how I can get you off with mine?” You batted your eyelashes at him, to influence his decision. “I also need to learn how to please my partner.”
“I guess we didn’t really think about that. That is true..” He made a face like he was thinking deeply, contemplating. Then, he reached down and grabbed his hard cock through his pants. “I’ll teach you how to make me cum with you hands. Not only because it’s important for you to know, but because I also really REALLY want you to make me cum.”
You smile, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip shyly. You watched as his hand slowly stroked himself, the size of the bulge slowly growing as he rubbed it more.
“I want you to take your hand and place it over my pants. Feel how hard you’ve made me.” He told you, a groan coming from deep in his chest when he felt your delicate hands wrapping over him. You squeezed the firm appendage, fascinated by how it felt in your hand. You gave it another squeeze but, Yunho winced this time.
“Careful baby, it’s sensitive. You want to treat it nicely.” He told you, grabbing your hand in his to guiding it up and down his shaft. His hips rocking into your touch, needy and whimpering. The sound making you wet again between your thighs.
“Can I take off my pants? I want to feel your hands around me.”
Instead of answering, you reached out and yanked on his waistband. He laughed at your eagerness, finding it sexy and charming. He helped you drag his pants and boxers down his legs. His huge cock falling against his stomach, tip dripping in pre-cum.
“Oh my god, it’s huge.” You gasp, making Yunho laugh.
“Now you know why they chose me for this and not the Oral Sex lesson.”
Your eyes bulged out of your head as his words. ‘Oral Sex Lesson?’”
“Wait, I’m going to be sucking somebody’s-“
“I’ve said too much. Do you mind if we get back to-uh-“ he pointed back down to his erection, making it jump up and down by flexing. Hoping it would be enough to change the subject.
“Right.” You shook your head trying to focus. “Tell me what to do to you.”
“I want you to wrap your hand around me, hand close to the base. By my balls.” You nodded and did as you were told, shocked by how silky smooth the his skin felt on his hard member. When he felt your fingers finally touch him, he hissed in a gasped through his teeth.
“Am I hurting you?” You worried, confused by his reaction.
“No no, it’s- your hands feel so soft.” He panted. “Please, stroke me up and down.”
You slowly started to move your hand up his long length and back down, Yunho making satisfying noises each time you got closer and closer to his head. You caught on to this and, on your next journey up, you swirled your palm around the purple tip.
“Fuck-!” Yunho grunted, shocked by the sudden contact on his most sensitive spot. His reactions making you feel a lot more confident. Your strokes became a bit quicker, taking time to rub your thumb over his leaking tip here and there. Each time, his body would jolt, an involuntary whimper falling from his lips.
“Your noises turn me on.” You told him, crossing your legs together hard.
“You like it when I moan?” Yunho’s eyebrow raised, a smirk on his trembling lips.
“A lot. It makes me wet.”
“Are you wet right now? Let me check.” Yunho reached his hand between your legs, slipping two fingers between your folds and instantly becoming soaked. Your body jolted at the contact, still sensitive from your last orgasm. Your perfected pace faltering around his cock.
“You’re soaking. Is playing with my cock making you wet?”
“Yes.” You mumbled, trying your best to focus on keeping your hand moving. Yunho moved his fingers upwards until you let out a loud moan, signaling that he had found your clit. With the lightest of touches, knowing you were still sensitive, he started to rub your clit from side to side quickly. His fingertips hardly swiping across the very tip of your bundle of nerves.
“Yunho! I can’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat, choked by an unexpected moan.
“Yes you can. You just have to push yourself.” His fingers kept their quick pace across your clit. You felt your orgasm rushing towards you, even under the lightest of touches.
Yunho thrusted into your slowing hand, getting off at the view below him: coming apart by his hand while he got off in yours. He couldn’t believe that somebody so innocent was participating in something so sexy. And mainly from her own suggestion.
Yunho started to whimper, making it a bit more frequent knowing now what kind of effect it had on you. His hips rolled into your hand quicker, his hips trembling each time you squeezed your fingers around him harder.
“Can you cum for me one more time baby?” He said, pushing down to create more pressure for his quick-moving fingers. Your mouth opened in a silent moan. “Cum again and give me a view to cum to.”
“It’s too much.” You cried out, legs twitching in an almost embarrassing rate. And down below, the pressure that was building felt intense. It was not the feeling you had gotten aquatinted with, it was much much more intense. You were scared of it.
“It’s going to feel so good baby, just feel all of it and let yourself go. Can you do that for me?”
He was ready to beg, plead. He wanted to make you cum just one more time but, was coming up too quick on his own climax. He started to give up on the fight to hold back, his moans getting louder, more whiny.
Your legs went slack, allowing yourself to feel all the intense pleasure. And, after listening to Yunho whimper while he uses your hand, you started to cum again. Your orgasm spraying out of you in small gushes of liquid, his fingers rubbing every drop out of you.
“You’re squirting? Oh my god-“ His climax made its way up his shaft, pouring onto your closed fist, a few spirts spraying out onto your belly as he convulsed into your hand.
You didn’t quite know what he said, but you didn’t care at that moment. You both watched each other come undone, bodies jerking as the aftershocks wreaked havoc on each of your sensitive areas. When you were both done, you collapsed onto the bed. Lying in both your orgasms.
“Why is the bed wet?” You asked, voice injected with a bit of disgust.
“You squirted.” He told you, his breath still coming in gasps.
“I did what?” You sat up, looking at the decent size wet spot and droplet stains on the sheets between your legs. You suddenly felt horrified. “Oh my god, did I pee?”
“No, no!” Yunho sat up next to you, rubbing your back in comfort. “You basically just experienced female ejaculation. Not everyone can do it and you may not do it every time you get off. But, it’s essentially a very intense climax that makes you… squirt.”
“And you find that hot?”
“Very much so.” He told you, eyes widening to make his point very clear. “Why do you think I came so hard?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged, falling a bit silent before speaking again. “Did I do okay?”
“You did great.” A bright smile spread across his face, extinguishing any doubt you may have had. “I’m really proud of you for being vulnerable with me and trusting me to do that with you for the first time.”
“Thank you, Yunho. I felt safe the whole time. I’m glad you were the first one to do that to me also.” You gave him a weak hug, then sat up onto the bed.
“Make sure you drink lots of water. You’ve cum a lot today, you can get dehydrated.” He told you, handing out his glass of water that was sitting on the nightstand. You drank it all, not realizing how thirsty you were until you had your first sip.
“Good girl. Now..” be yawned, exhausted from the events of the evening “.. take a shower and get to bed. Eat something if you’re hungry. Seonghwa will be with you in the early afternoon.”
“Okay, I will. Goodnight Yunho.” You told him, grabbing your clothes off the floor and stealing a robe from his closet to go back to your room. He chuckled but didn’t say anything about you being a thief.
“Goodnight.”
You snuck down the hall, back to your room to grab your shower items, ready for a hot shower and sleep. And wondering what Seonghwa had in store for you, not knowing how it would top the lesson you were just taught.
Back in Yunho’s room, his fingers typed furiously in the group chat, letting the boys know what he had just discovered during his lesson.
Summary: Yeosang introduces you to sex toys in the bedroom.
Note: Each member will have their own post. This is a series and I will update this post each time I post the next chapter. Please be patient and feel free to offer suggestions ❤️
Content Warning: ⚠️ 18+ NO MINORS. Reader is innocent sexually. Use of multiple types of sex toys. Nipple play. Teasing. Cum in panties. Major overstimulation themes. Squirting. Multiple orgasm. Oral sex. P in V. Anal. Attempted use of butt plug. USE OF SAFE WORD. Dirty talk. Pet names. Cream pie. Unprotected sex. (Don’t do it yada yada)
Hope you had a fun afternoon. It’s time for our lesson. Come to my room for a play date?
Yeosang was very cute and soft spoken. Often shy and very gentle when it came to speaking with others. His personality aligning more with Jongho in his temperament. His face was beautiful, like a pixie. Even with his gentleness his piercing good looks made him intimidating. He was almost too pretty to look at. The thought of being intimate with him seemed like something from a fantasy. And, knowing you had already had “vanilla” sex, you were nervous about what somebody so gentle and reserved had in store.
Thirty minutes later you were knocking on his door. He opened it and greeted you with a warm smile. He was wearing a black t shirt and black jeans. Simple yet so handsome in the dark colors. His golden blonde hair contrasting off of it perfectly.
“Hi. I’m glad you could come so quickly.”
“Curiosity got the best of me. You said something about a play date?”
“I have some gifts for you.” Yeosang said with a smile, motioning for you to come inside of his room. You smiled back at him shyly and stepped into the door completely unprepared for what was waiting.
On his bed was a towel laid out with different shaped objects. Some big, some small, and some oddly shaped in many different colors. You looked back at him a bit confused and found him watching you cautiously.
“Do you know what these are?” He asked and you shook your head no.
“These are adult toys. Sex toys. And I’m going to teach you about them and how you can use them on yourself and together during sex.” He said, motioning over the buffet of options he had purchased.
“Toys?” You said, looking at the items you definitely didn’t recognize as anything you’d see at a regular store next to Barbie’s and Legos. Yeosang chuckled and pressed his had to your back to walk you closer to the items. He reached down and picked up a tiny blue object that looked like a giant pill capsule and reached for your hand, prompting you to hold it in your palm.
“This is a bullet vibrator.” He pressed the tiny button at the top of the toy and it started to vibrate lightly on your skin. “You can place this over your clothes for a tease, or directly on your skin. It’s made to stimulate your sensitive areas, like your nipples or clit.”
Yeosang clicked the bottom again to turn off the movement and took it from your palm, placing it back on the towel and picking up another item. This one had a light pink handle with a white piece at the top. At first, you thought it was an electric skincare brush without the bristles.
“This is a toy that it made for suction.” Yeosang pressed a button and the toy came to lift, a soft sound coming from the device. He placed the white suction cup on your skin and you felt it suckle on your palm as he continued to explain its function. “This can feel like oral sex if you place it on your clit, so I hear. It has multiple modes as well.”
He pressed another one of the button a few times, each click making the suction stronger. You felt butterflies between your thighs as you imagined how it would feel against your clit, wondering how it would compare to the lips of the boys you’ve had down there so far. Your curiosity made you shiver, nipples getting hard and peeking through the fabric of your shirt. Yeosang noticed this and smiled, his hand covering his mouth shyly.
“It probably would feel good against you here also.” He pointed at your hard peaks, his finger so close to touching one you shuttered as if you could feel it. “Let’s move on to the next one, yes?”
You nodded and he grabbed the 3rd item in the lineup. This one was purple and long, curved slightly, with ridges along the length. This one was a bit more self explanatory due to its phallic shape.
“Is this supposed to go inside of me?” You ask, a bit alarmed at the idea of putting an inanimate object inside yourself. Sensing your hesitation, he grabbed his hand in yours and helped you understand the potential.
“So, imagine this is my cock.” He wrapped your fingers around the shaft of the toy and dragged your hand around the curved shape. Your skin sliding across the smooth silicone and ribbed texture. “But, it’s a bit more elevated. And, available when I’m not around. You can move it inside and out of you fast or painfully slow to make sure you feel all these ridges rub across your g-spot. You’re in complete control.”
“Oh.” Was all you could manage, your pussy thumping down below in your wet panties.
“This is also something your parter can use on you as well. I’ve found you can be more precise with this sometimes than my own cock. Making sure I hit the g-spot spot just right. The orgasms can be quite intense.”
You swallowed loudly which made him chuckle. But he didn’t comment, only moving on to the next item he had purchased for the occasion. A larger white tool, long and intimidating, with a giant orb the size of a tennis ball at the top.
“This is called a magic wand.” He dropped the end into your palm. It was surprisingly heavy and firm. “This one is quite intense. But it’s classic, and has been around for many years.”
When he turned it on, you gasped at the pure power of the vibration. Your entire palm almost going numb and you the waves of the first level travelled up to your elbow. He clicked the button again and the power got even stronger. You snatched your hand away from it in shock.
“I warned you.” He chuckled.
“Is that a torture device?”
“It definitely can be.” His tone was dark and his smile, for the first time, put you slightly at unease. “But that’s not what it will be used for today.”
Yeosang grabbed the last item on the towel. It was a tiny metal piece that was shaped like a teardrop. A tiny red diamond hart at the base. It was small enough to fit in your palm, like the bullet vibrator, but it was significantly heavier.
“Lastly, this is a butt plug.” He explained, which made your eyes widen in fear.
“This goes in my ass?”
“Yes. But please, hear me out.” He held his hand up to you to calm your reaction. “We can work up to this and see how you feel. If you don’t want to do it, we won’t have to.”
“What does it do?
“Not much. It just makes you feel full. And it’s a bit weighted, so the pressure can make everything else feel more intense. Your anus has a surprising amount of nerves.” He explained. “Do you have a safe word?”
“A safe word? What is that?” You questioned, head swimming from all the new stuff being thrown at you.
“A safe word, or safe words, are words or phrases you can say during an intense session of sex or just in any sexual experience that tells your partner that they need to be careful or completely stop.”
“Is ‘stop’ not good enough?”
“Not in a lot of situations.” Yeosang explained, his voice soft and low. “During sex, physically it can be quite intense but also it can be mentally intense as well. Those things can be linked. When your body in experiencing something like a new sensation or overstimulation, your brain might tell you that you need to stop when really you can push yourself a bit more. So when you say “stop” or “no”, you may be more capable of going further than you think.”
He paused for a moment to let the words sink in. The information of the sex toys and the so-called “safe” words linking together and making you aware that what was to come would be more intense than anything you have experienced with the boys so far.
“So, it’s a way to help me push my limits?” You said, grasping part of the information.
“Yes. But it also gives your partner a very clear warning or demand when you use them. It keeps you comfortable and in control.” Yeosang loosened his collar and ran a hand through his hair, preparing himself for the demonstration. “However, I promise tonight I won’t push you too far. This is very much an introduction. How about we use the color system? Green for good. Yellow for ‘okay but pushing it’. Red for stop everything. I’ll ask you for your color during the lesson, to see how you’re feeling if you don’t tell me yourself.”
“And what if I forget the words?” You mumble, voice trembling at the thought.
“If you don’t answer me after I ask a second time, I will stop. Is that okay with you?” He asked, reaching his hand up and rubbing it across your cheek comfortingly. You nodded in agreement and he smiled before leaning in and placing a soft and gentle kiss on your lips. You folded immediately, melting into him.
“Can I help you take some of your clothes off?” He asked, gasping as he pulled away from your lips. You agreed and lifted your arms to help him pull your shirt over your head. Then, he slipped off your shorts, leaving you in your thin cotton bra and underwear.
“Turn around for me.” He said in a husky voice, deep and breathy. He raised your hand up over your head and you twirled for him as he took in every curve of you now uncovered. “So beautiful. I can’t wait to play with you.”
His words made your cheeks feel hot. You giggled and covered your mouth with your palm which he found extraordinarily charming. He gave you a soft tap on the behind with his palm and asked you to climb up onto the bed which you promptly obeyed. Laying down, your head and upper back elevated ever so slightly on some pillows. You left your legs bent up at the knee with your feet flat on the duvet, legs opened just enough for Yeosang to see your panties.
He grabbed the small bullet vibrator off the towel and walked around to the side of the bed you laid on, sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. His angle allowing him to access all parts of your body that he may need. With a quick press of the power button, the bullet powered to life. The buzzing noise making your legs close slightly from nerves.
“We’re going to start slow, okay? Remember this one? The bullet?” He asked and you nodded, not making a sound just yet. “I’m going to ease you into the lesson with this. A bit of teasing.”
He placed the vibrator against your forearm and dragged it slowly up to your shoulder and then just below your collar bone. The vibrations tingling your skin, making your nipples get hard under your thin bra. He took the bullet and dragged it down the side of your breast, following the curve to the underside, and then back around. Your breath started to quiver in anticipation.
“The vibration on these feel good on a sensitive nipple.” He spoke low and seductive. Dragging the blue device up your breast to circle your hard nub. You squirmed where you laid, feeling the vibrations tingle your nipple even though it had not been placed directly on it yet. “I’ve even used one on myself before. It’s quite erotic.”
Before you could ask him more about his own use of sex toys, Yeosang finally dragged the vibrator up against your nipple and pressed it against the very tip. The sensation making you whimper. It wasn’t as intense as you thought but very different from the stimulation you had grown used to. The tingling sensation in your nipples traveled down your body to the apex of your thighs.
Yeosang pulled his hand across to your other breast and copies the same patter as he did for the other while you pressed your thighs together. Itching for some relief down below. Noticing this, he dragged his hand down your waist, stopping directly above your clothed pussy.
“This is where it’s going to get very fun, okay? But I need you to remember our safe word system. Do you?”
“Yes.” Your voice was hoarse and breathy but still understandable. “Green. Yellow. And red.”
“Good. This is going to be a new sensation. These all will be. Let yourself be open to feeling it but please, tell me if it’s too much.” He said very sternly, serious about keeping this boundary. You agreed and he continued to lower his hand.
He ran the vibrating toy around your pussy, teasing your lips with the end. It felt almost as if you were being tickled, small giggles bubbling out of your mouth as you squirmed until he finally pressed the toy where your entrance was. A gasp caught in your throat when you felt the vibration tease your hole and find its way further and further up. Your hips bucking off the bed when the vibration found themselves directly over your clothed clit.
“OH! Oh my god-“ you were shocked at the sensation never having felt stimulation like this before. Warmth spreading through your core instantly.
“What color are you at right now?” He asked you.
“I’m- green. It’s green.”
“Perfect.” He pressed the toy into your just a bit more firmly, rubbing tiny circles over your clit. “Doesn’t it feel good?”
You nodded furiously, hips now moving against his hand motion for more friction. You felt almost hypnotized.
“And what’s good about this is, you can do this yourself when you’re alone. It doesn’t have to be somebody else doing it to you although, it’s much for fun this way.” Yeosang smiled at you, taking in your flushed face and parted lips. “Why don’t you try?”
You hesitantly took the toy from him and hovered it over yourself for a moment, looking up at him for reassurance. When he nodded his head, you placed the toy back down against you. The vibrations returning against your swollen clit made you moan.
“That’s it.” He groaned in approval. “Can I touch your breasts?”
You nodded and he pressed his hands against you, squeezing your boobs gently. Then pushed the fabric of your bra down, allowing the fabric to sit under your exposed breast’s and push them upwards to his own satisfaction.
“You look so sexy like this.” He groaned, rubbing his fingertips across your exposed nipples. Your back arched off the bed under his touch, pelvis pressing harder into the toy. He chucked, completely surprised at the reaction. Thinking all the talk the boys had made about your sensitive nipples was exaggerated. He took your nipples between his index finder and thumb and pinched down, rolling them between his two fingers.
Your legs fell open wider, allowing Yeosang to watch more clearly as your panties got wetter and wetter. The cotton much darker than the original color as your arousal soaked through.
“I can see how wet you are.” He cooed. “Are you still at a green?”
“Yes! Fuck-“
“Good. Let me try something else. Something new.” His voice trailed off as he stood up and grabbed the suction toy. He sat down and turned it on, placing it over one of your hard nipples. The suction cup felt gentle like lips, suckling on your sensitive nerves. It shocked you completely, taken aback but how erotic and realistic the toy felt. And, embarrassingly, you came almost instantly. Your body convulsing as you orgasmed hard.
“Oh shit-“ Yeosang gasped, also take aback by your sudden climax. He let you ride it out, telling you how much of a good girl you were while you continued to cum, until you finally found the strength to pull the toy away from yourself.
“That was.. wow. That was intense. Are you okay?” Yeosang asked, grabbing the toy from your hand and turning it off. His arms encircled you immediately in a comforting grasp. You continued to gasp for air, breathing getting more steady over time. You melted into his arms, the embrace helping you come back down to earth.
“That sucker toy is crazy.” You said, head still spinning.
“Did you like it?”
“God- yes.” You groaned. You could feel your clit still pulsing. “I want to cum again.”
He smiled at your enthusiasm and helped you strip down naked. He held up your panties, showing you the large amount of cum that had pooled into the fabric. You chuckled and watched him bring the fabric up to his nose, inhaling in your scent. The action should have disgusted you but, instead, made you clench around nothing down below.
“You’re intoxicating.” He said, dropping your panties onto the floor. “Can I taste you?”
“Please do.”
Yeosang dipped his face down between your thighs and took a long, firm lick up your dripping slit. His tongue lapping at your clit just how you liked it. Your thighs tightened around his head, pulling him deeper into your core. His chin and nose assisting him in devouring his meal. You reached down and laced your fingers into his hair, tugging a bit harder than you probably should have. He groaned into you, the vibrations of his humming already sending you closer to your next orgasm. He felt you tense and popped his mouth off of you, making you groan in protest.
“Let me use this on you. See how it compares.” He grabbed the suction toy again and lowered it onto you. The suction enclosing your clit perfectly. He looked up at you for approval, turning on the toy when you nodded. When it switched on, your back arched up and off the bed. The toy’s light suckling on your clit made you go crazy even with only being on the first setting. It was not like his mouth at all. Not pillowy soft and warm. It also didn’t come with the feeling of his hair tickling your inner thigh. But it was still good.
“Yeosang..” you groaned. Your hands griping at the soft skin of your own thighs as you tried to claw yourself into control. Your hips bucked up, pressing into the toy harder. Yeosang clicked the button twice, making the suction two times more powerful. You felt yourself get warm between your thighs, your next orgasm rushing to a gushing climax. You screamed out as spirts of clear liquid sprayed from your pussy.
“That’s it. Holy shit..” He mumbled as he watched you squirt until your legs clamped down hard onto his wrist. “What’s your color?”
You couldn’t find your words, mouth hung open in both pleasure and shock as the toy continued to, quite literally, suck the life out of you.
“Hey.” Yeosang tapped on your thigh lightly. “Speak to me.”
After his second failed attempted, he pulled the toy off of you gently. Your body collapsing onto the mattress, still twitching from your climax. He brushed the hair off your forehead that collected in chaos, then rubbed your cheek comfortingly with his thumb.
“Hey, come back to me now, yeah?”
“I’m- I’m okay.” You gasped, your heart rate finally coming back down to its normal speed.
“I know it can be hard but, I really want you to try and answer me when I ask you your color. Do you understand?” His voice was gentle but tone stern. Making sure you grasped how important communicating was to him in sessions like this. You nodded but he shook his head at you. “Words. Please.”
“I’m sorry. I understand.”
“The next toys are going to be more intense. We need to be able to trust each other.” He said, then walked over to grab the dildo off of the bed. If this was going to somebody be even MORE intense than the last one, you felt like you might be in trouble.
“Wait! I need a minute.” You held up your hand to him and he sat down next to you. He reached his hands out to start rub your thighs gently, trying to comfort you. He could sense your hesitation even after a few moments of relaxation.
“Are you sure you’re doing okay?”
“Yes. I am.” You told him. “It’s just.. a lot. It’s so intense.”
“It is. And we can stop for today if you want. But, if you want to continue, I promise to take care of you and make sure you always feel safe. I might push your limits a tiny bit but, all I want to do is make you feel good. And I’ll stop if at any point if it’s not.”
The anxiety in your chest softened, leaving completely. Yeosang had always been a bit of the quieter size. Reserved. But always came off as a silent protector. Always watching and analyzing. Somebody could say they were thirsty and moments later he would be sitting a bottle in front of them without a word. Not wanting or expecting a thank you. He stopped to check on you just by noticing your body language, not wanting to make you uncomfortable even without you speaking up for yourself.
“I feel safe with you.” You smiled at him big, earning one back from him. “I might need you to ease me into it but, I’m okay with continuing.
“Of course, baby. Whatever you need.”
Yeosang placed the toy against your belly and dragged it down slowly until he reached just above your pelvis. He used one of his hands to massage your thigh, his grip on your skin surprisingly a turn on for you. You let out a small whimper, a verbal cue that he could proceed. With a slow drag of his hand, he pulled the toys tip down your skin and made circles around your pussy, teasing your lips. The light touches making you feel warm, now aching for him to touch you deeper.
“Please.” You whimpered. “I’m ready.”
You felt the silicone tap once against your clit, your thighs twitching at the impact. Yeosang chuckled darkly, enjoying watching how your arousal stuck to the toy and drew strings when he pulled it away from you. You were completely drenched. A mess.
He dragged the end of the toy down your slit slowly until he reached your entrance. You held your breath in anticipation while he rubbed small circles over you before gently pushing in, only inserting the head of the toy. Yeosang groaned as he watched your pussy swallow the bulbous end, your soft walls forming around it perfectly. He pulled the tip inside and out of you at a shallow pace, teasing you while hypnotized by the image in front of him.
“Please-“ you didn’t even realize the plea exited your mouth. “Please. More.”
Yeosang slowed his pace down gradually, pushing a bit further into you with every thrust inside. Easing you onto the length expertly. The ridges of texture on the toy rubbed against your walls and g-spot, sending a numbing amount of pleasure across your entire body. You missed the warmth and girth of somebody cock. But you could not help but admit this was a different type of pleasure. Each push and pull of the toy building the level effortlessly.
“What’s your color baby?” Yeosang asked deep and clearly.
“Green.” You whimpered, legs falling open in a butterfly position. Your pussy taking the toy deep inside of you. Yeosang eyes rolled in the back of his head as he took in the sight of you spread open for him. Enjoying every time he fucked the dildo into you while you moaned mindlessly. His pace started to quicken, his forearm tensing as the focused the quick movements to hit your g-spot. You both could suddenly hear the loud sloshing of your wetness, your approaching 3rd orgasm coming with a slight warning.
Hearing this, Yeosang lowered his mouth down once again to your pussy and wrapped his lips around your clit. His wrist still pumping the dildo into your dripping hole. You almost starting seeing stars. Your overly sensitive and swollen clit ready to have you go off like a bomb. The swell of heat down below starting to become a new level of intensity.
“Y-yellow.” You warned him, unsure if you would be able to handle anything more intense than this at the moment. Yeosang gently popped his lips off your clit, giving you a break, and slowed the pace of his wrist down to a more comfortable pace. After a minute, he lowered himself back to you again, lapping his tongue over your twitching clit.
“What color?” He asked you between licks, your thighs trembling against his cheek.
“Green.” You whispered, using the last bit of breath you had left in your lungs.
“Good girl.” He praised, the words making your eyelids flitter. Then, when you least expected it, you heard him click a button. The dildo being fucked inside of you suddenly an unexpectedly buzzing to life. The mix of his tongue and the buzzing toy making you come to yet another climax.
“Fuck! Oh my god-“ You cursed loudly, body convulsing almost violently from how strong it hit you. Yeosang pulled his face away from you but kept his arm moving, hoping to get another gush of liquid out of you.
“Come on. Give me another.” He mumbled mainly to himself, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried his best to get you to squirt again. It took another minute or two of working the toy in and out, moans flowing through your lips mindlessly until more liquid flowed from you, spraying drops onto his face. The drops hitting his skin and making him smirk in triumph.
His hand slowed as less and less liquid came out, finally coming to a stop and gently pulling out of you. Your chest heaving as you tried to slow your breathing. The center of your thighs tingling, overwhelmed by the new level of pleasure he had just introduced you to.
“I-I didn’t think it could feel this good.” You said through gasps of air.
“It can feel even better. I want to try this one on you.” Yeosang held up the silver plug, the metal glistening. You felt yourself tighten up, nervous. You had never thought about putting anything back there. The idea was a bit scary and foreign. But, felt open to trying. Hoping maybe to discover something new and exciting. “Get on all fours for me, please.”
You adjusted yourself on the bed to his requested position, your ass in the air. Yeosang grabbed a bottle of lubricant he had kept just for this specific toy, placing a generous amount on his fingers. He placed one of his hands on your behind, giving you a slight warning that he was close to your area. Then, you felt the slightly cold gel being smeared over your hole, making you gasp at the sudden temperature change.
Yeosang fingers slipped over your tense entrance with ease, igniting a new sensation you have never felt before. Your nerves tingling, sending shockwaves surprisingly straight to your clit. His feather-light touches almost tickling your sensitive backside. You whimpered loudly, sinking down onto your elbows, pushing your cheek against the mattress. His fingers continued to rub light circles over the puckered hole and, soon enough, your pussy started to drip.
“Do you like this, baby?” His husky voice made the whole “taboo” act even more erotic. You moaned loudly, a response he accepted as a ‘yes.’
“Good. I’m glad.” He pulled his fingers away and added more lube. This time, spreading it onto the plug. When you felt contact again at your behind, it was cool and metal.
“Im going to insert this into you, okay love?” He told you and you nodded your head. “I’m going to take it slow. Just breathe.”
You felt a bit of pressure, the cold of the metal spreading you open slightly. So far, that’s all it was. Pressure. Then, as he pushed in a bit further, a bit of pain. A very faint sharpness sending a warning to your brain and making you tighten up.
“Wait, stop! Red!” You panicked, falling forward onto the bed and away from his hand. Yeosang immediately took a step back, tossing the toy away from you completely.
“Are you okay?” He was fully concerned, his eyes searching over you for any signs of bleeding or trauma. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.. yes? I don’t know. It felt weird.” You were panting and still a bit panicked. Yeosang cautiously sat next to you, unsure if hugging you was the right thing for you in the moment.
“Weird how?” He asked, still trying to get an understanding so he could take care of it properly.
“It just.. it was stretching too much.” You mumbled, your heart rate slowly starting to slow back to normal once you said it out loud. Yeosang finally understood, placing his hand on your thigh and massaging it in comfort.
“I’m sorry. I think I rushed things a bit. You probably weren’t ready for that.”
“S’okay.” You mumbled, the heat in your cheeks returning. “I did like how your fingers felt.”
“Did you?” His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I’m glad. I was worried I had used anything anal for you forever.”
“No, not at all. I kinda liked the taboo aspect of it.” You admitted shyly, making Yeosang chuckle.
“I’ll definitely let the others know. Maybe they can introduce you to it a bit smoother than I did.”
You looked back at all the toys he had tried on you so far and a thought popped into your head.
“Have you had these used on you?”
“Yes.” A smirk appeared on his face, reminiscing on some memories. “But I prefer to use it on others.”
“Id never take you for a guy who was into stuff like THIS.” You admitted.
“Me neither. But, like most things, sometimes you never know until you try it.” He said, shrugging his shoulders.
You turned back to the toys and looked at the final one that hadn’t been used.
“So, what about this one?” You ran your finger over the hitachi magic wand, intrigued by the powerful item.
“You still want to continue?”
You nodded your head and gave him a small smile.
“I still want to know how intense it can get.” You told him, picking up the wand you remembered to be quite powerful, and handing it to him.
“Intense, huh?” His tongue poked into the side of his cheek, his jaw tight, and his brow shot up from surprise. A dangerous request. “If that’s what you really want, I’ll show you my favorite way to use this toy.”
Yeosang stripped in front of you. Dropping his t-shirt and jeans to the ground. He palmed his boxers, his cock hard in his palm and his head dripping precum into the cotton. His body was a marvel. He was buff and muscular, a fascinating contrast to his delicate facial features. When he pushed his boxers down his thighs, his cock was no different. It was long and thick and matched his physique perfectly. Under the soft exterior was a body built to conquer.
You scooted yourself to the edge of the bed slowly and spread your legs, keeping eye contact. The seductive move shocking him completely and making his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“God, you’ve come so far.” He mumbled mainly to himself. Then took a step forward and placed his hands on your thighs, spreading them even further where they pressed down onto the mattress.
He pressed his hard cock against your pussy and started to grind, his shaft sliding up and down your soaked slit. The friction made your hips twitch due to how raw and sensitive you were after the last hour of play. A pathetic whimper still slipping out even though just this simple action was almost too much.
Yeosang made a deep grown from down in his chest. A sound of approval. Your natural submissive state pleasing him but, he couldn’t allow himself to play much into that headspace knowing that was not a lesson for him to teach.
“What’s your color?”
“Green.”
He slowly pushed in his head, then inch by inch went in deeper until his pelvis was pressed up against yours. You could feel every single inch of him pulsing, wrapped in your tight walls. You reached up to try and grab him, your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders. He hadn’t even moved yet and you thought you were going to burst at the seams.
“Hold on, baby. Just take a deep breath.” He told you, trying to help you gather yourself. You took multiple, breathing in and out until your shaky breath finally came out stable. Gripping your waist, he pulled himself out of you almost completely, before pushing himself back inside of you again. Your eyes fluttered closed and his name left your lips in a whisper while he rocked into you.
“That’s it. Good girl.” He mumbled, his bottom lip secured between his teeth as he tried to hold himself back from ravaging your body. His pace only picking up slightly over time, easing you into the pace he was searching for until he was finally ready to pick up the wand vibrator.
He held the long handle firmly in his grasp. The bulky size a warning for the power it held. He pressed the cushioned bulb at the end against your pussy, pressing it up on your clit. You closed your eyes hard, trying to prepare for the incoming vibration you knew would be overwhelming. All efforts found to be completely useless when he turned on the power, a guttural scream clawing out of your throat. The vibrations rumbled throughout your entire pelvis that stimulated Yeosang as well.
“What’s your color?” He said through gritted teeth, trying to focus to catch your answer.
You shook your head, unable to answer. Your back arched off the bed and legs trembled. You were loving every second of it and, although Yeosang assumed that to be true, he needed an answer.
“Baby. I need you to answer me.” He asked you again, a bit more firmly. “Do you want me to stop?”
Your overly enthusiastic answer gave him the confirmation he wanted to go full-throttle. His hips fucking into you more harshly as you moaned mindlessly on his cock. You were getting close again and he could feel it. Your walls tightening around him and making each thrust a bit harder to pull out due to the grip.
Yeosang, afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle the next speed on the toy, tested your limits another way. Moving his wrist up and down to grind the vibrating end against your aching clit. The pressure and intensity shocking you and making you go rigid on the bed.
“Are you gonna cum for me?” He cooed at you, using now both of his hands to grip the wand and push it as firmly as possible against you. No matter how hard you tried to squirm, there was no running from the intensity. All you could do was babble and moan.
“I want you to cum on my cock.” He grunted, his hips becoming unsteady in his rhythm as he got close to his own orgasm. “Can you do that for me, baby? Be a good girl and cum?”
If his cock and vibrator were not already enough to reach your climax, his words sent you to it at full speed. Your orgasm making you convulse around him, squeezing him hard. Yeosang looked down at where your bodies connected and watched as his shaft fucked in and out of your pulsing hole.
“Holy fuck.” He cursed, biting down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood. Another stroke into you making you gush all over him. Watching you squirt onto his shaft and stomach made him spill over. His body pushing into you hard one more time with a loud grunt. He twitched, grabbing onto your hips while he released his load into your pussy.
Once his climax subsided, he turned off the wand and let it drop to the floor with a thud. He collapsed on top of you, your heavy breathing mixing together, both of you completely spent.
“Was that intense enough for you?” He asked with a sharp chuckle.
“I think my bones have turned into jelly.” You said completely bewildered by what you had just experienced. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him against your body in an embrace.
“Did you like it?” He asked, his voice soft.
“It was amazing.” You told him. “I didn’t think sex could be even more intense than it already was.”
“There’s still more to experience.” He told you simply. “Come on love, help me pack these up for you.”
He sat up and pulled you up from the bed, your legs wobbling as you tried to keep balance.
“I get to take these?” You said, a smile spreading across your face with a bit too much excitement.
“Of course. How rude would it be for me to not share my toys?”
——————————-
Wooooow it’s been a bit too long! Sorry guys! I appreciate the patience and allowing me to take time off to handle personal stuff. Stay excited for the last few chapters 🥰
thinking about yeosang teaching jongho to fuck you
the first thing that shocked everyone was when jongho came to his hyung's, asking for help because he was worried he'd be bad in bed. however, the second thing that completely took everyone aback was when yeosang offered to help, his arm draped loosely over your lap as you sat on the arm of the couch. his voice was calm, his face stoic, and no one could tell if he was joking or not.
"yeo, I don't know—"
"thanks yeosang." jongho cut off san who was still looking at your boyfriend like he was trying to solve the world's hardest puzzle, but as jongho sat down and everyone went back to what they were doing, the topic died out. except to you. thoughts of how your lovely boyfriend planned on helping his friend flooded your mind, because unlike the others, you knew that it wasn't a joke.
oh he wasn't. definitely not joking in the slightest.
which leads to now, you're sprawled out on the bed, knees digging into the soft mattress of your boyfriend's bed while your upper body is pinned down by jongho's strong grip. his hips snapped into yours with brutal force, choked sobs tore through your lips, and your thigh shook violently.
"j-jongho," you mewled loudly as the head of his cock brushed over your sweet spot, body threatening to lock up due to the sudden increase of pleasure. jongho, however, began to worry that he was hurting you somehow.
"you're not hurting her," yeosang's voice was smooth as he walked around the bed, crouching down until he could clearly see your fucked out face, tears drenching your flushed cheeks, causing strands of hair to stick to them. "isn't that right, angel? you love being pinned down and used like a fuck toy, don't you?"
you whined loudly as jongho's grip on your hip tightened, and you knew that there would be bruises later. all coherent words died on your tongue, and the only thing you could muster was a nod of your head. yeosang reached forward, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face, whispering sickly sweet filth to you.
but you knew better; his voice had always been deceptive.
hell he had you spread out before jongho even touched you, showing him everything that made you tick. it was both a blessing and a curse, but god as jongho continued to plow into you, you began to believe it was the former.
"'m gonna cum!" you all but screeched as that coil in the pit of your tummy tightened beyond normal levels. your feet kicked as sobs fell from your lips, trying to get away, but jongho's grip was far too strong, and you were forced to take everything he was giving you.
"hyung—"
"she's fine, keep going, we're getting to the best part," yeosang instructed the brunette, who looked at him with scrunched eyebrows, but as your cunt squeezed around him jongho didn't stop, much less slow down.
"jongho!" you screamed your throat raw when that band snapped, and your heart washed over you like a tsunami. your hips jerked as you drenched jongho's cock as well as the sheets underneath you. pathetic and borderline pornographic moans spilled from your lips.
"don't stop." yeosang stood back up, eyes locked on jongho who looked unsure, but yeosang hasn't led him astray yet, so he did as told.
"o-oh shit," you cried out, one hand flying back to grab jongho's forearm, nails biting at his skin and threatening to draw blood. white spots clouded your vision as the brunette's cock hit all the right spots with every stroke, leaving you lying there nearly breathless.
"keep going until you cum, she can take." yeosang chuckled, folding his arms over his chest as he watched one of his best friends absolutely demolish his girlfriend. not something he ever really thought about doing, but he would have to see about giving jongho future lessons.
yeosang just to make sure he's well educated, really.
One drink too many, laughter in the middle of the night, lips accidentally grazing against each other in the dark - the chain of events that led you to going against every rule you’ve ever followed.
That night, your friendship with Yeosang was inevitably and irrevocably destroyed.
You were relieved at first.
Until you woke up alone, all traces of him gone from your house. The next morning, you wanted to talk to him, but he was nowhere to be found. When you saw him for the first time after it all, he was with the other members. You greeted them all as you do everyday, but one person refused to meet your eyes, and that was the start of a series of knives in your heart - each one inflicted by him, breaking you a little more.
You tried to talk to him. You really did. But he did his absolute best to not be left alone with you. And whenever that happened, he ignored you until you left, defeated.
You had no idea what you did wrong, but it was eating you alive.
How did the best night of your life turn into a nightmare you couldn’t escape from?
---------
You’ve been thinking about it all day - you need to talk to him. It’s too much. Fortunately for you, you see him in the corridor and grab the opportunity, stopping right in front of him.
“Can I talk to you for a minute, please?” You say quietly, in case anyone else is in earshot.
“Yeah, okay.” He looks around for a moment. “Let’s go in here.” He says, opening the door to a nearby meeting room.
Once inside, he locks the door. He turns to face you, arms crossed - a barrier between the two of you.
“What’s up?”
You snicker in disbelief but move past it. “Why have you been ignoring me?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
He looks genuinely confused, and your determination wavers momentarily. Did you read things wrong?
“For days now, you’ve not said anything to me. Not even looked at me. We used to chat here and there, and ever since… you know, it’s like I’m invisible to you. Why have you been ignoring me? Did... did I do something?”
His ears are slightly red at the tips from the mention of the night you two spent together.
“No, you didn’t do anything. And I haven’t been ignoring you - I’ve just, I don’t know, tried to treat you like everyone else.”
Your chest tightens.
“That’s not true.” You try to control your voice, but there’s a waiver in it that you just can’t hide. “When someone says hi to you, you say hi back. When they smile at you, you don’t look away. But every time I do, you pretend you don’t know who I am. You pretend like we’ve never spoken before - like I’m some kind of delusional, stalker fan or some shit. So I ask you again, did I do something? Have I made you uncomfortable in some way? Because if I have, I promise you I didn’t mean to.” You swallow. “Tell me what it is and I’ll work on it. But I hate the way our ‘interactions’ have made me feel.”
“You didn’t do anything! I don’t know what to tell you, y/n. I don’t think I’ve done anything differently.”
“You know that’s not true.” Your chest feels heavy, every breath a weight in your lungs. “We used to talk, Yeosang - every day. You used to come to me when you had problems, when you wanted to get stuff off your chest, when you needed to laugh. You’ve not spoken to me once since that day. Do you know how much that sucks?”
You bite your lip, hard enough to feel your teeth digging through the soft flesh.
“Are you ashamed of me? Of… of what we did?”
“What? No, I-”
“Then why are you treating me like that!”
He sighs. “I’m an idol, what did you expect? To shout it from the rooftops, tell everyone what happened? I can’t just date whoever I want!”
“I never expected you to date me for fuck’s sake Yeosang! I never said that!” Your voice rises.
“What do you want from me y/n?” He huffs, exasperated.
You laugh bitterly, shaking your head.
“I wanted you to look at me.” Your voice cracks despite your efforts. “I wanted you to talk to me like you used to. I wanted you to not act like I don’t exist.”
He opens his mouth, but you cut him off.
“I’m a big girl, Yeosang.” Your throat tightens. “But I can only take so much before I crumble.”
His expression shifts as you bite back your tears.
“Most of all, I wanted you to not treat me like a piece of ass for your enjoyment.” You swallow despite the knot in your throat. “I don’t want anything anymore though - don’t worry, you’re free from me.”
You wait for a moment that feels like eternity.
You want him to say you’re wrong.
You’re dying inside for him to tell you that he doesn’t want you to leave.
But the silence stretches, unbearable, and you can’t hold it anymore - you turn away, storming out of the room before he can see the tears streaming down your face.
In the meeting room, Yeosang watches you leave, frozen in place - his eyes locked on where your shadow disappeared, heart in his stomach.
---------
“Y/n.”
Your heart stops when you hear his familiar voice coming from somewhere behind. You quicken your steps, trying to put some distance between you.
“Y/n!”
You can hear him start to jog after you now and you do the same, praying for someone to enter the hallway and prevent him from reaching you, but he catches you before that can happen.
“Y/n, stop. Please.”
You try to shake your arm away from him but his grip is like iron.
“Look at me.”
You keep your head turned. “Don’t do this Yeosang. Please. I said everything I had to say.” Your voice is barely audible above the thumping in your heart.
“I didn’t. I never got to tell you my side of things. Just hear me out. You don’t have to say anything,” he pants, “but at least listen to what I have to say.”
His fingers burn on your exposed skin, and your body betrays you, moving almost on its own as he guides you into a recording room.
The lock clicks, impossibly loud in the dark room, making your stomach clench. You can only see the outline of his face, the faint hall light shining through the frosted glass of the door. The room is small, only furnished with a desk and a computer setup, and you don’t know where to go.
You back up against the wall, attempting to create some space, but he follows you - as if some invisible string tied your movements to his, forcing you closer even when you try to retreat.
“That night,” he starts. “I got scared. All that time when we’d been talking, I had tried to ignore how fast my feelings were growing. And the moment we kissed… I knew it meant so much more than it should have.”
You can hear him swallow, your breathing growing quiet, like you’re scared any sound could stop him.
“The way you felt under me wasn’t just physical. I wasn’t trying to have some fun, I… I was trying to tell you how much you meant to me. Every kiss, every touch, every single moment of that night meant more to me than anything else I’ve ever done.”
You don't notice you're crying until his thumb wipes the tear on your cheek with a softness that breaks you.
Your voice is small, barely audible despite the intense emptiness of the room. “Why did you leave?”
His head falls, ashamed of what he’s done. “Because I was terrified. I was watching you sleep, and y-you looked so peaceful. That’s when it dawned on me that we could never be together. I have my job, you have yours, we can’t… We can’t. At least, I didn’t think we could.”
“What changed?”
He looks away. “Losing you.”
The revelation is like a gut punch, knocking the air out of your lungs.
You don’t know what you were hoping the answer would be, but knowing this agonising distance is the reason for his admission feels like both a blessing and a curse.
It feels so good to hear that he’s hurting as much as you and that this wasn’t in your head, but can you really take his words for it? Is this enough for things to be different?
Your fingers twitch at your side, aching to touch him, but you can’t. Not yet.
“I thought putting some distance between us was the right thing. To protect me, to protect you. I didn’t realise how far I’d taken it. Everything you told me that day was like someone had removed a veil from my eyes, and I could finally see things for what they were, how they appeared to you. I couldn’t say anything because… I didn’t know wh-” He clears his throat. “I didn’t know what I could say to make it better.”
His finger brushes your forehead as he tucks a strand behind your ear, before cupping your face in his hands. Feeling his frantic pulse against your skin as he holds you so delicately feels like acid.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t see past that wall that I set up for myself because of my career and who I am. I’m sorry that I couldn’t see how much you cared for me. I’m sorry I hurt you with my words and my actions. And most importantly,” he says, voice breaking, “I’m so fucking sorry that I didn’t show you just how much you mean to me y/n.”
Tears are streaming down his face as he holds you.
You try to look away from him, but you can’t. His confession hits too deep. You’re still so hurt by everything that happened, but you can’t ignore the way each word heals your heart a little more.
“Tell me I can fix this.” He begs in a small voice. “Tell me there’s still a way I can get you back, because this week has been the most agonising of my life. Not seeing you all this time… I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how I hurt you - I can’t stand the thought that I might not see you again. Please.”
His last word breaks you. Your tears are free-falling now, and your body shakes as the sobs begin.
He pulls you into his arms, wrapping them around you, stroking your hair as he continues silently breaking. Seeing you like this is like a knife in his heart - and the worst part is that he did it himself to the both of you.
“I don’t know…” you whisper in his chest. “I want to. But… I can’t go through this again, ever. And neither of us can guarantee things will change, you know that.”
The lump in his throat is growing but he pushes past it, determined.
“Tell me what you need me to do.” His words echo your own from last week. “I’ll do anything if it means I get a chance at having you back.”
“I… don’t know.”
You curse yourself internally for how this is all you can say to him right now, but it’s true. You want to fix this - so badly - but what could possibly prove that this can work? That your heart won’t shatter into a million shards again?
“I’ll find a way. Every day.”
The assertiveness in his voice makes your heart skip a beat.
“Please, just… don’t ignore me. That’s all I ask.” Your voice comes out small, like you’re afraid of your own words. “I don’t want you to give me special treatment, I never did. But the worst part of it all was the way I felt so invisible. I felt like a piece of trash. Something you’d used and discarded.”
A sob shakes you as another silent tear falls down his cheek at your words.
If he could take it back, he would - in a heartbeat. Hurting you was the opposite of what he was trying to do, and it’s agony to know that his actions ended up making it all worse.
You don’t know how long you stay like that, in each other’s embrace, but you know you’re not ready to pull away yet. You know all too well that once you break the connection, you’ll have to figure out how to navigate your relationship, whatever it becomes.
Your sobs have faded now, the salty streaks drying on your cheeks. The steady rise and fall of his chest and his heartbeat soothe you, and your eyelids grow heavier with each passing second.
“Y/n?” His voice is soft, not wanting to shatter the moment.
You hum, the heaviness of sleep slowly taking over.
“Do you want me to drive you home?”
You nod, not even hesitating. This day - no, this whole month - has been incredibly taxing, and you’re not ready to turn down some help - even if it might make things messier afterwards.
He pulls you off of him slowly, holding you up until you stop swaying. The way he studies your face makes you want to cower away, but then he wipes your cheeks with so much care that you melt a little.
You don’t know what time it is, but you must have been in that room for a while because most lights are off, and the only sound in the building is the low buzz of electricity.
He holds your fingers, guiding you to a set of stairs leading to the garage, and you let him. The odds of anyone catching you are small, and you’re so exhausted that you don’t have it in you to resist. The feeling of his hand hooked into yours, protective, makes your heart soar more than it should.
This is what you missed.
The closeness, the proximity, the intimacy. You didn’t want grand gestures, just the complicity you two have shared for months now. It feels so good to have your person back, even for just a few hours.
He doesn’t let it show, but Yeosang’s heart is hammering in his chest the whole drive back. He missed the smell of your perfume in his car and the way your body fills the passenger seat so perfectly. He’s not ready for this to end.
That’s why, when he finally pulls up to your house and cuts off the engine, he doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. The rain is hammering down on the windshield, the sky black around you, cocooning you into the warm space of the car.
You both sit there in silence, the tension palpable. Neither of you wants to break this moment.
You turn your head slightly to look at him, admiring the soft lines of his face faintly visible in the dim streetlights. You ache to trace it like you did that night, but instead you trap your hand between your thighs. You can’t be reckless now.
He catches the movement from the corner of his eyes, turning to look at your hands before moving up to your lips and then your eyes. Your breath catches in your throat, your pulse quickening a little.
His hand drops from the steering wheel, landing on his thigh, and you follow the movement with your eyes. When you look back up at him, his gaze has changed. His eyes are darker, more intense, and there’s a furrow in his brow, like he’s holding back.
Slowly, he reaches out, grazing the back of your free hand, his movement staggered a little, unsure if he can. You don’t move. You hold your breath as you watch his index slide under your fingers, lacing your hands together. A current runs up your arm at his touch and you shiver.
“Are you cold?” He asks.
You shake your head lightly, whispering a quiet “no”.
He waits a moment, searching your face for a sign that you’re uncomfortable, but there is none.
Your heart is hammering in your chest now. Nothing else matters outside of this moment - being here with him, just the two of you. It feels like it’s been an eternity since you’ve been able to spend time with him, and your feelings are threatening to burst at the seams.
He can sense it in the way your fingers tighten just a fraction around his, a silent permission.
He leans a little, shifting his weight in the seat, and you automatically adjust your own position, like opposite sides of a magnet pulling towards each other.
Your faces are inches from each other now. You can feel his breath on you and his heart stutters at the flutter of your lashes. His eyes drop to your lips as your tongue flicks out to wet them on instinct, and his breath hitches.
His other hand reaches out to your face, caressing your cheek, brushing his thumb on your lip.
“You’re so beautiful…” he whispers, and as though this was his trigger, he finally closes the gap between you.
His nose nudges your head up gently as his lips skim yours, waiting for you to reciprocate. And you do, without hesitation, your body responding in the most natural way to what feels like home.
The way you kiss him is slow and deliberate, but it undoes him completely, and a tear falls down his cheek. The taste of salt surprises you and you pull away a little, concern on your face.
“What is it, are you okay?” Your other hand has freed itself from your legs’ embrace and is gently wiping the tear away.
He nods, chuckling to himself a little. “I really thought I’d lost you forever. I’m not letting you go again.”
“You better not.” You murmur, making a decision that very moment. “This is it, Kang Yeosang. If we’re doing this, we’re really doing it. I won’t be able to take feeling like this again.”
His grip on your cheek grows a fraction stronger. “I won’t, I promise. No more fucking up. This is it.”
His words hang in the air for a second, settling low in your stomach, and you break out into a smile for the first time since everything happened.
Finally, you grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him to you. Every feeling you have for him is poured into that kiss. He hums in your mouth and your heart flips.
His grip on your entwined fingers tightens as his thumb caresses your palm, whilst his other hand weaves itself into your hair, gently tilting your face to where he knows you like.
You taste so sweet to him - like a refreshing iced drink in the sweltering heat of summer. The softness of your lips, the gentleness of your fingers against his, the tenderness with which you move, the way your body responds instinctively to him… Every aspect of you feels like a dream.
His tongue swipes against your lips and they part automatically. You’re desperate to feel him everywhere on you and in you - your brain is unprepared for this intensity you’re feeling, but it welcomes it.
Both of your breaths are ragged now, the windows fogging up slowly. He finally lets go of your hand to grab your waist, pulling you into his lap. You gasp, making him groan a little at the sounds you make and how they affect him.
You’re vaguely aware that you’re in view of anyone passing by, but you’re both too absorbed by each other to really care.
In Yeosang’s mind, only you exist. Right now, in this moment. Just you and him - at last.
You cradle his face as he pulls your waist closer to him, so close that the only thing separating your bodies are the thin layers of fabric.
His perfume makes your head spin as you start gasping for air. He pulls away reluctantly, every pant grazing your sweat coated skin, mindlessly brushing his thumbs under your jumper against your bare skin, and a trail of goosebumps runs up your entire body. He can feel the way your body trembles at his touch and the corner of his lips lifts ever so slightly.
You look at him from under your lashes, still catching your breath.
“Do you… do you wanna come inside?”
He pecks you one more time. “Yes.”
No hesitation, no thinking, just yes.
He’s been hoping you would ask him of course, but he never would have done so himself. He wants to make sure everything is done right this time, and most importantly, he wants to make sure this is what you want - because there’s not a spec of doubt in his mind that he is exactly where he wants to be.
He caresses your face, lingering his thumb on your mouth, before opening the door. The rain is still pounding down but you couldn’t care less right now. You climb out with Yeosang in tow, quickly putting his jacket over your head.
Despite his best efforts, within the few steps to your front door, you’re both soaked.
You open the door as quickly as you can, pulling him into the warmth with you.
When you turn to face him, the light shining through the window makes his skin sparkle from the rain droplets. His birthmark is shining so bright, and you can’t help your fingers from reaching out and tracing it. You hear the small hitch in his breath, but he doesn’t move.
The drops falling from his hair make your heart twist. “You look like an Angel.” You whisper, more to yourself than to him, but it doesn’t stop his heart from healing a little at your words.
He puts his hands on your waist, pulling you to him gently.
“I should be telling you that.”
His tone is playful, but the tension is anything but. His gaze drops to your chest as it rises and falls and you feel the blush creeping to your skin.
“You’re dripping.” He says as he slowly hikes up your top. His pace is offering you an out, but you don’t take it. Instead, you lift your hands above your head, letting him peel the soaked clothing away from you.
You shiver a little when the air hits your wet skin.
“Are you col-”
“No.” You cut him off, chuckling to yourself.
Despite the lack of light, you can see the heat behind his eyes as he takes you in - your body shining in the low light, hair sticking to your damp skin, your wet lips drawing him in.
He grabs your wrist, gliding his hand up your arm slowly, memorising you. You bite your lip at his touch.
“Do you know when I first realised I liked you as more than a friend?” He asks softly.
It’s not a question you know the answer to, but you try to answer anyway. “The night you were here?”
“Not even close.” He shakes his head lightly, a small smile on his face. “Do you remember the day where you spent four hours on the phone with that one executive?”
You raise an eyebrow, a shiver running down your spine as his hand reaches your shoulder, tracing your collarbone.
“I overheard the conversation. I wasn’t supposed to, but the door was ajar and I couldn’t help listening in. He was on speakerphone, so I also heard everything he said.” He continues, clicking his tongue as his hand traces the curve of your covered breast, making you bite back a moan. “I was ready to come in and cut the call for you, really - stupid as it would’ve been. But out of nowhere, you held your ground so perfectly, so unwaveringly - I could only stand there in awe.”
He’s now tracing your stomach, whilst his lips ghost the pulse on your neck.
“I was so proud of you.” He admits and your heart jumps. “And I was gonna walk away, but then I saw you crumble into the seat from exhaustion - I couldn’t help it. I had to go in and check that you were okay.”
“I c-can’t believe you were there that whole t-time.” Your words come out in stutters as his lips continue claiming your skin.
He hums low, the vibrations making you gasp.
“I know it’s not right to eavesdrop. But I’m glad I did, because you needed me after it. And if I hadn’t listened, you’d have had to deal with it on your own, and I can’t stand that thought.”
He’s now holding your face between his hands, staring straight into your eyes.
“That’s when I knew this was more than friendship to me.”
He barely lets you absorb that information before his lips crash into yours.
Your hands weave their way under his shirt, softly grazing your nails against his abdomen, making him whimper. That sound is like music to your ears. You tug the wet fabric up and he breaks away from the kiss just long enough to flip it over his head and fling it somewhere in the darkness of your house.
He walks you backwards to your room. He knows the layout by heart, having been here countless times throughout the last few months. The carpet under your feet lets you know you’ve entered the bedroom and your heartbeat quickens even more.
There’s no going back now. This is what you want - both of you.
He guides you down gently onto the mattress, hovering over you as he continues to revere you with kisses. His touch is careful, but you can feel the hunger beneath it.
Your fingers grab onto his wet blonde hair, tugging lightly at the roots, whilst the other grazes down his back towards his jeans.
He grabs it quickly, preventing it from going further, as he pulls away from your lips.
“Let me take care of you first.”
He resumes his quiet path of destruction down your jaw. One of his fingers hooks under your bra strap, pulling it down your arm, and you shudder with pleasure. His softness is so much more possessive than any rough touch could ever be.
“Lift up baby.” He whispers against your chest, skilfully snaking his hands behind your back to unclasp your bra.
Baby.
This is the first time he gave you a pet name. Not even during that night did he call you by anything other than y/n.
The word echoes through your mind, euphoria filling your body as he gently slides your bra off, exposing your breasts to the cold air. He runs his thumb over one of your nipples, eliciting a shiver to run down your spine. The tips of his wet hair tickle your skin as he sucks on the sensitive bud.
He can’t help the smile on his face when he hears your pants and feels your nails digging into his shoulder a little.
Despite everything - the fight, the hurt, the fact that you were both a little drunk during your first time - you notice that there is no awkwardness. You don’t feel shy to have him see you so vulnerable, to be so intimate with him. It feels right. There’s no one else you could ever bring yourself to be so openly yourself with.
His attention switches between both breasts and you feel the heat between your legs grow more and more bothersome, your thighs rubbing together in an attempt to get some friction. He notices, of course, always so attentive to your every move
“You want something?” He teases, bringing his hand down to where you need him most, your back arching. He rubs a little, lazily, and the need is beginning to be unbearable. The fabric of your trousers is thin, but the contact isn’t enough. You need to feel his skin directly on yours.
He knows, of course.
“Gosh, I really can’t refuse you anything…” He sighs as he kisses your neck. He slides his hand under your waistband, reaching your burning core, his fingertip rubbing lightly. “Do you know how crazy you make me? Do you know -” he kisses you, “how hard it is to watch you and not have my hands all over you?”
His fingers keep teasing your entrance, only to go back to your clit, your frustration growing.
“I fucking love hearing you boss us around. But you know I’d do anything you ask, don’t you? You’re good like that - I’d eat you out in the meeting room if you told me to.”
His finger finally pushes into you and you cry out, taken aback by both his words and his actions.
“Look at you.” He groans as he admires you, his finger creates intoxicating waves inside your walls. You could swear his voice has a tinge of melancholy in it. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He starts kissing your neck again as he pushes another finger inside you - your vision blurs a little.
“The day you started, I thought you were a transfer.” He pushes a little deeper, faster, making you whimper and pant. “You don’t even know how glad I was that you weren’t. Knowing the guys see you everyday is already torture enough - I would have gone crazy if millions of strangers lusted after you.”
Your orgasm crashes into you out of nowhere, Yeosang’s name falling off your lips like a prayer. He lets you ride it out, his fingers curling to the same rhythm that just tipped you over.
“Good job baby.” He whispers against your lips, caressing your cheek with his free hand.
He kneels back, carefully peeling your drying trousers and panties off of you. Once your legs are bared, he runs his fingertips over them, grazing your skin, leaving a thousand goosebumps behind. He stops over a bruise on your knee, rubbing it with his thumb as if he was trying to erase it.
“What’s that?”
You swallow, trying to find the energy to speak, a little embarrassed. “Banged my knee on my desk yesterday running away from you.”
His brows furrow. “I’m sorry.” He kisses the purple spot tenderly. “Y/n, I’m sorry I made you hurt yourself.”
“It’s okay.” You say in a small breathy voice. “It was an accident.”
It’s not like you’ve forgotten what happened, but you don’t have it in you to care right this second. He’s here now - that’s all that matters.
He starts kissing up your thigh. “If I’d done better, this wouldn’t have happened.”
The closer he gets to your exposed core, the shallower your breathing gets. This is one thing you didn’t do last time, and your whole body is on high alert with anticipation.
He lightly bites the sensitive skin on your thigh, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make you shriek.
His breathing is a little ragged as he takes in the sight before him.
“You’re dripping baby. You look so good.”
That damn pet name again - it gets your hips to twitch involuntarily, and he notices it.
“You like that?”
You nod shyly, making him smile.
“I’ll give you all the praise baby, you deserve it.” He says as he dives his head between your legs.
The air isn’t making it past your lips anymore, stars decorating your vision.
His tongue is lapping you up carefully, leaving no area unloved, whilst his nose lightly nudges your already sensitive clit.
You look down and the sight alone could make you cum. Both of his hands are holding on to your thighs, locking you in place, whilst the muscles on his back ripple with every bob of his head. His eyes find yours as he takes another lick. The blonde strands hide them a little, but it can’t conceal the raw heat as he looks at you.
“Fuck me you’re so hot.” You moan without realising it and he chuckles.
“Soon baby, one thing at a time.”
You can see your slick coating his mouth and you whimper, your head falling back against the pillow.
He shifts your hips up a little for better access and you gasp.
“Fuck Yeosang, please, oh g-” His tongue steals the air from your lungs. “Fuck fuck fuck don’t stop!”
Your body begins to shake under his ruthlessly precise touch. He feels drunk from your taste and your growing moans, wanting more from you - like an endless fountain.
You grab his hair, locking your fingertips in for support as your entire body comes undone. He doesn’t stop - if anything, he goes harder on you, trying to prolong the pleasure he’s tasting.
You try and wriggle your legs out of his grip to no avail - he’s far too strong for you.
“One more baby. Give me one more.” He begs. “You’re doing so good.”
There’s nothing you can do anyway, locked in his makeshift prison.
Your next orgasm washes over you almost instantly, your body still shaking from the force of the previous one, completely disorienting you.
“That’s it. Fuck baby, you taste so good.”
Your head is spinning.
You’ve never seen that side of him before, the begging dominant man between your legs a completely different person to the one you’ve grown fond of. He spoke of your power over him earlier, but you know without a doubt that if he told you he wanted a dozen more from you, you’d absolutely give them to him. You’re not in control of your body anymore.
He massages your thighs where his fingers were just digging in, kissing your lower stomach in appraisal.
“You’re so perfect…” he whispers against your sweaty skin, the warm air giving you goosebumps.
With the little bit of clarity you still have, you grab his face and bring him up, kissing him the way you’ve been dying to. He doesn’t protest, melting into your touch instantly.
His body is in control, but his mind came undone the moment he entered your house.
Every time he kisses you, it doesn’t feel real. He spent months fantasising about it, thinking he would be stuck as a mere friend forever, until the night that changed everything. And when you had that fight - that entire week, he was going crazy thinking he’d never feel your lips on his again. He hopes you feel the same way, but knowing that you’re here, right now, is enough.
He has absolutely no idea just how far gone you are for him. Putting that distance between you almost destroyed you, and you’re not ready to let him go again - physically or emotionally. He’s like a beautiful poison in your vein - dangerous, possibly life changing, but you wouldn’t feel like yourself without him.
You could probably kiss him forever, his soft lips an elating feeling on yours, but his hard length pressing against your stomach is impossible to ignore. Your hips roll into him on instinct and he whimpers into your mouth, a sound that you can’t get tired of hearing. You do it again and again, chasing his sounds more than your own pleasure. He groans a pained “fuck” into your mouth, gripping your waist with painful strength, and you can’t stop.
You didn’t notice his hand has left you until you hear rummaging in the bedside table as he looks for a condom. He takes off his jeans with careful precision, never leaving your lips - you wouldn’t have let him anyway.
You hear the wrapper break when he undoes the condom and your heart races as he puts it on, the anticipation of what’s next making your whole body feel hot.
You softly run your hand down his torso as he shivers under your touch. When your fingers wrap around his cock, he shudders a little and you smile against him. You love seeing him lose control so much - you wish he’d let go more often.
You stroke him a few times, arousal pooling between your legs once again. The memories of how full he made you feel last time come back in a flood and you moan, the ghost of that night enough to bring you to the edge.
He doesn’t really warn you before he starts pushing in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. Your mind goes blank as you gasp and pant in his mouth - he drinks them up, every one of them.
It takes a moment, but when he finally bottoms out, he stays there for a minute, his breathing ragged. You feel so tight around him, and he loves just how perfectly he fits inside you.
Impatient, you roll your hip a fraction, making him wince.
“Fuck baby give me a second.”
You ignore him completely, your body operating with a mind of its own as your hips shift again.
He grunts and responds with a slow thrust that has you seeing stars. You whimper, the friction creating blissful pleasure in your stomach. He continues with the same pace, kissing and biting your neck gently in rhythm with his thrusts. Your hands wander over his bare back - you don’t think you could ever get used to feeling the way his every muscle moves.
Both of your breaths are getting shallow, beads of sweat forming on his skin. This has to be heaven, there’s no other explanation for it. You can tell he’s holding back a little from the way his movements feel a little jagged. Is he afraid he might hurt you? You dig your nails into his shoulder and he groans.
“You want more?” He pants.
You kiss him sloppily. “More.” You beg.
His response is instantaneous - he grabs your leg, hooking it over his shoulder to drive deeper inside of you, the force of his thrusts increasing gradually.
Your moans are no longer quiet and it makes his head spin, every sound feeding him to go harder. A few curses slip out of his mouth as he tries to hold out. He wants to make this last as long as possible, but it was almost impossible from the moment he felt your tight warm walls around him. The way you look, the way you feel… He wishes he could do this forever. There’s no greater feeling than your body under his.
But he needs more time - he’s desperate for it.
He pulls out, your body jolting at the loss, before flipping you onto your stomach. Your mind takes a second to follow your body from the surprise of this shift in position and energy. He’s gentle, but there’s a certain possessiveness and dominance in his actions that don’t make you question it. He softly taps your hip.
“Up.”
You obey without question, lifting onto your hands and knees. He’s in full control of your body and you let him, relishing in feeling so wonderfully taken care of in every moment.
He takes a second to look at you like that, biting his lip, still unable to believe just how perfect you are, before plunging back into you. His hand on your shoulder helps brace you, preventing you from falling over.
The position makes him feel completely different inside of you. You focus on your breathing to not unravel too fast, already so sensitive.
He leans down a little, kissing your upper back as he slowly moves his hips, his other hand wrapping around your waist like you’re his - which you are, of course.
You try to hold onto his arm for support but your brain is foggy, making it difficult. He can tell what you’re trying to do. He lets go of your waist, lacing your fingers together as he stands back up, your entwined fingers laying on your back.
He begins driving into you a little harder and you push yourself back into him too. The sound of slapping skin starts filling the air like a filthy chorus. You’re both getting close quickly, despite your best efforts to hold out.
“Fuck baby you feel so good, argh” he grunts.
The hand on your shoulder moves to grab your neck and he pulls you flush to him, your head tilted perfectly for him to kiss you. Your moans get lost in his mouth, the angle so good your eyes well up a little.
He keeps hold of your throat, gentle enough to not hurt, hard enough that you can’t move away.
“I’m losing it.” He whimpers against your lips.
His words make your walls clench around him and he throws his head back in pleasure. You’re getting louder by the second as your orgasm builds up, and he takes that chance to unlace your fingers, taking his hand to your front and rubbing your clit for the final blow.
He grazes your neck with his teeth and you try to get even closer to him, if that’s possible, your fingers searching behind you for his soft hair. The mixture of everything is beginning to make your body twitch.
“That’s it baby, let go. Come on.”
He thrusts into you a few times as deep as possible, hitting that spot every time.
“I’m… I… argh shit!”
He continues pounding into you as you unravel around him, following not long after. It’s so overwhelming that his vision blurs for a moment, and he holds onto you, anchoring himself to you as the waves of pleasure roll off of him.
You’re both still trying to catch your breath as he pulls out of you and grabs your face to kiss you. Despite his strong grip on your jaw, this kiss is different - slower, gentler, more tender. You stroke his arm softly as your stomach flips, completely engulfed by the pure joy you’re feeling, forgetting about everything else.
“Is it too soon to say I love you?” He whispers against your lips.
You still, the hairs on your spine stand on end at his words, shock, disbelief and warmth battling in your brain.
“You’re just saying that now, you don’t mean it.”
You don’t want to believe him, because it is too soon, is it not?
He shakes his head, rubbing circles on your back.
“I do.” He places a soft kiss on your lips. “I’ve loved you for a while now, I just didn’t know it.”
Your brain is running a hundred miles an hour, attempting to process it. The truth is that you don’t know how you feel yet. Saying you love him now feels so final, like you’re sealing something, but at the same time… you don’t want to be away from him. You crave his touch, his proximity, his presence, his smell, his laugh. The idea of not having him with you makes your stomach twist, and you wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.
“Hey.” He pulls you out of your thoughts. “You don’t have to say it back, but… I just want you to know where I stand.”
Whether it’s fear or something else, you can’t quite bring yourself to say it back yet. Instead, you kiss him again, cradling his soft face in your palms, stroking his cheeks. He melts into you in response, relieved that you’re not reacting negatively to what he knows is a lot in this situation.
You stay like that for some time, you don’t know how long, until he pulls away from you gently. He gets up to look for some clothes for you both, helping you into your T shirt, before pulling you to him as you lay under the covers.
Neither of you speaks. He just holds you to his chest as he draws mindless patterns on your back, toying with your hair. The rain against the window fills in the silence of your comfortable bubble, his scent calming your still racing heart.
Sleep quickly creeps into your bones, the exhaustion of the day settling inside you, but you keep jolting yourself awake.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you going to sleep?”
His voice only half registers in your head but you mutter the two words you can muster with the energy you have left.
“Don’t… leave.”
His heart squeezes and his throat tightens a little, mirrored by his hands tucking you into his warmth a little more. He kisses your forehead tenderly, whispering against you.
“I’m not. I won’t. I promise, baby.”
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If you’re comfortable with it, could I request a free use with ateez (doesn’t matter who between hg, sh, yh, ys or mg) with 101 + 106 + 111 + 113 please ? 😚
hush, puppy!
free use + somno + cnc + pet play + daddy kink
dom bfs!yunho & yeosang x sub gf!reader
part of my 2k event.
warnings: all warnings in the prompts and…feral dom yunho, dl feral dom yeosang (he hides it well), condescending dirty talk, unprotected sex etc
disclaimer: this wasn’t as much of free use + pet play as i originally intended, but my works often do get away from me, but hopefully that’s something yall are used to by now…i hope this is good for you anyway! and at any given time (including now) i have some free use AND pet play atz coming so dont you worry abt that. anyway! here!
—
You don’t know what time you fell asleep; don’t remember closing your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creep in the way it usually does.
But you obviously did fall asleep—and somewhere between then and now you’ve been moved to bed from the couch, your clothes peeled off and cast aside and your legs eased apart.
Their presence is familiar—large, strong, protective; safety and stability as it lives and breathes. Their touch—light, gentle but unmistakably possessive on your skin.
The familiarity is why you don’t panic when you wake up pressed between them even though you fell asleep alone; why you don’t feel anxious or confused even in the few seconds it takes for your brain to catch up and understand what’s happening to you and who’s doing it.
You’re in tune with them now, on an almost primal level. You’d recognise their touch, their scents, even if you were unconscious. Even after a hundred, a thousand years without it.
You know what they’re doing now; why you’ve woken up in this position and why they seem to have been trying to keep you unconscious. Yunho and Yeosang love, more than they admit even to you, to fuck you in your sleep.
Maybe it’s the power; the knowledge that they can use you at all hours and you won’t and couldn’t say no. The feeling of you, tiny and weak and helpless in their arms, taking everything they give you and never resisting. Never even knowing, if they’re careful enough.
Maybe it’s just that you look so sweet and innocent when you sleep, that they just can’t help it. Certainly nothing like the pervert they’ve made of you when you’re awake.
The kind of pervert who’d have come to them not too long ago and proposed this arrangement in the first place. Who’d have sat them down and explained, with flushed cheeks and hands shaking so hard Yunho had had to hold them in his own to keep you steady, that you wanted, from now, to be their toy. Their doll, free for the taking no matter your state.
“Careful.” Yeosang’s voice comes low, quiet; small hints of arousal hidden beneath the calm, level composure he keeps. You recognise his hands on your breasts; stroking, claiming, fingers running across your nipples with enough pressure to make your breath stutter. “Don’t wake her.”
Yunho’s hands are on your thighs; larger, thicker than Yeosang’s yet just as gentle and adoring. Just as worshiping. He hums in agreement, pulling your legs further apart almost agonisingly slowly, and you realise then that they haven’t noticed.
They don’t know you’re awake. They don’t know you’re aware. For the first time since you’d sat them down and told them you wanted to try this, you get to play the game too.
Win it, even.
You keep your eyes closed, squeezed shut even as you feel them so close to you; even as you want so desperately to open your eyes and see your big, beautiful boyfriends staring down at you like you’re all they’ve ever wanted.
But this is more fun. Yunho pushes in one finger, pulling you tenderly backwards closer to his chest. He’s naked too, you realise; firm chest bare and flushed and sticky with sweat. How long have they been doing this?
His finger goes in easily—suspiciously easily. He makes a noise of quiet surprise. “She’s soaking,” he mutters.
“Is she?” Yeosang asks. With your head buried in the crook of his neck you feel the vibrations of his voice in his throat against your skin, soothing and electrifying at once. “How soaking?”
Yunho slides another finger in just as easily. “So soaking,” he starts, “that I’m starting to think she’ll have some explaining to do when she wakes up.”
“Ah.” Yeosang presses a kiss into your hair and you feel his lips curl against your crown in a small, knowing smile.
Caught. Dread fills your stomach, mixing with your arousal and adrenaline to create a feeling you’re all too familiar with but still can’t quite describe.
Them, you’ve started calling it. It’s the closest thing to an explanation you’ve been able to come up with.
“If she’s been misbehaving,” Yeosang says, “I don’t think we need to bother stretching her out. Puppy’s obviously desperate for it.”
Yunho’s dick pulses where it’s pressed against your back; rock hard and leaking. He breathes out a quiet laugh. “What do you think?” He asks.
The tone—cooing, patronising, talking down instead of talking to—is familiar in the worst way.
That’s not how he talks to Yeosang. Which means—
There’s a hand in your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and yanking it back, so quickly and violently you don’t have time to react; or to not react, with your attempt to trick them into thinking you’re still asleep in mind. You cry out, half pained and half shocked, and your eyes dart open in surprise.
Yeosang is there, inches away, looking at you like he’s just won the game. “Good morning,” he smiles. “Have a nice sleep?”
“I—”
“I’m sure she did,” Yunho says, cutting you off. “Always tires herself out doing that, don’t you?”
“Doing what?” You ask. May as well give it one more go playing innocent.
They don’t seem amused. Yeosang’s grip—you know it’s Yeosang’s now; the large hand curling around your neck and the thick fingers still stuffed inside your pussy make it the obvious conclusion—tightens in your hair, pulling your head back further and making you hiss in pain.
“Fucking yourself,” he says, voice low. “Breaking our rules. Coming on your fingers because you’re too needy to wait for our cocks.”
“That’s what you did, isn’t it?” Yunho’s voice is purring almost; hummed into your ear and making you shiver involuntarily. It’s as delicious as it is dangerous. “Admit it, puppy. Admit you couldn’t even wait a few hours for us to come back.”
You say nothing; probably couldn’t if you tried. Not when they call you that; the one word they know always sends you into subspace with the flick of a switch. All you do is whine, trying to nuzzle back into Yeosang’s hold but his grip is too strong on your hair.
“Naughty girl,” he hums. “Naughty puppy. Putting her fingers in our hole and pretending to be asleep like we wouldn’t know. Did you think you’d get away with it, pretty?”
“No,” you mumble, defeated. Yunho chuckles.
“That’s right,” he says. “Of course you won’t. You think we don’t know your body by now? Know our property enough to tell when she’s awake?”
“She’s gotten cocky,” Yeosang says. “Thinking she can trick her daddy like that.”
Oh. You know he feels the way your breath hitches at the word; the implication. They’re in one of those moods.
So are you, you realise. Then again—you usually are.
Not your fault they’re just so damn good at making you feel tiny.
Yunho’s voice comes low. “Flip her over,” he orders, pulling his fingers out of you at the same time. “On her stomach.”
Yeosang is quick to follow, situating you in position with your face pressed into the pillow. The silk is cool and soft against your skin and completely covered in drool. You flush, embarrassed; was that you? It must have been.
“Messy girl,” Yeosang coos. His hand is pressing down on the back of your neck, holding you in place; with the other he feeds three long fingers into your mouth, just deep enough to make you dizzy and pliant without outright choking you. “There we go,” he smiles. “You suck on your bit, puppy. We’ll use you nice and good.”
It takes you a moment to digest his words; with your mouth full, body immobilised and surrounded by your daddies, it’s hard to process anything beyond the sound of their voices and the heaviness of their touch. You blink, slowly, moving your head to the side just enough to meet Yeosang’s eyes.
He looks fucking ravenous.
And yet—still as gentle as ever. A balance only Yeosang, your Yeosang, can strike.
You whine around his fingers, trying to say something but he shushes you with narrowing eyes. “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Dogs don’t talk, princess. You wanna tell us something, you can bark. Unless you need your bone?”
No, you shake your head desperately. You don’t need your bone—the thick, bone-shaped gag that’s too big for your mouth and makes you drool all down your face and chest, “like a true puppy,” as Yunho puts it. It’s uncomfortable and humiliating, and as much as you secretly love it (the closest thing to a secret you can have with two men who know you better than you do, anyway) you don’t want it now. The feeling of being gagged with a bone in your mouth always makes you so dumb so quickly that you can never feel and enjoy their cocks the way you want to.
The way you need to, tonight, when they’ve been so busy recently getting ready for their comeback. So busy that you haven’t had them like this in weeks. God, you feel like you’ve been dying.
No. No gag tonight. Next time, maybe.
“Didn’t think so,” Yeosang says. “I’m glad. You know we don’t like having to do that to you, pup.”
Lie. You both know it. But right now he could tell you just about anything and you’d nod along like a brainless little mutt.
A strong arm hooks under your waist and lifts your hips, pulling them up for better access; Yunho wastes no time, pushing himself inside you with fervent desire; the sound of your wet folds and leaking pussy squelching as he pushes in makes him groan, hips bucking against you before he quickly gets ahold of himself. “Still so tight,” he grunts. He starts to thrust, slowly, then faster. “Always tight for us, aren’t you? Even when you disobey—fuck—little pussy still knows who her daddy is. Knows who to clench around like a good little cunt.”
“That’s what we trained her for,” Yeosang says. He sounds remarkably cool, indifferent as he lies next to you; his fingers thrust lazily in and out of your mouth, in time with Yunho’s movements in your pussy. The younger’s eyes are hooded, desire evident, but he seems in no rush to act on it. Always in control, he is—not just of you but of himself.
It’s why the three of you work so well, you think; Yeosang’s composure, his self-control, tempering Yunho’s more feral side. Always there to rein him in when he gets too rough with a soft smile and a low, firm voice. Enough. Control yourself. She’s only little.
It’s probably the main reason you haven’t been completely and irreversibly destroyed in your time with them—why you so look forward to the times Yunho loses a little too much control; when he bites a little too hard, hits a little too heavy. Because Yeosang is always there to keep you in one piece.
He has to, of course. If he lets Yunho break you in the way he wants to, what would be left for Yeosang to play with?
What would be left for him to break himself?
He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, gripping your flushed cheeks with the wet, sticky digits. “Open your mouth,” he hums. “Wider.”
Then he lifts himself up and onto his knees, dick hard and heavy in your face and pushing past your lips without warning. You accept it eagerly, greedily, just as you’ve been taught; let it hit the back of your throat with tears in your eyes. Crying so prettily for them, just the way they like.
“That’s it,” he smiles. “Milk your daddy nice and dry, puppy. Do your job, pretty thing, and maybe we’ll get you off too.”
He pushes deeper again, holding your head in place as you gag and splutter around his cock. “This is what you’re made for,” he grunts. “A free use little puppy for us to abuse. That’s what you like, isn’t it baby? You like being nothing but a cocksleeve for us. Just barking and crying around our cocks ‘cause it’s the only thing you know how to do.”
Tears are streaming freely now, your sobs vibrating against him as you try desperately to take him the way he expects. A particularly hard sob makes your teeth scrape ever so slightly against his skin, just enough to hurt. Most men, you think, would hate that, but Yeosang isn’t most men; the noise he makes is guttural, feral, the closest to a crack in composure you ever really see from him. His fingers tighten in your hair, unyielding, and you know what’s about to happen before it does.
The first taste of cum in your throat, coming down even before Yunho breaks, reminds you of the truth you tend to forget until moments like this.
Yeosang is controlled, yes, keeping Yunho in check when it comes to you—but it’s not for your sake.
It’s for theirs. To keep their toy, their puppy, in good condition, so that they might use you easier.
f a v b i a s x y o u - you just wanted to visit him at the studio, bring some food, coffee, maybe a few snacks for his members as well, and remind him not to overwork himself again, to actually take a break once in a while.
he was alone when you got there, everyone else scattered- grabbing drinks, taking a quick break, or just stretching their legs after the intense recording session, and the moment he saw you, that focused look in his eyes softened into something warmer, something that was only ever meant for you.
“hey, baby-” he mumbled against your lips as you leaned in, and you kissed him back just as easily. “hi-”
one small kiss turned into another, then another, each one a little deeper, a little more heated, like neither of you wanted to stop now that you’d started, like you’d both been waiting for this without realizing it.
he pulled back just long enough to get up, crossing the room in a few quick steps to lock the door before turning back to you, his gaze already darkening again as he moved closer, guiding you back until you hit the small sofa, his hands firm as he pushed you down onto it…
summary: in which the plug across the hall is exactly what you need
warning: use of weed, dry humping
genre: smut, fluff
pairing: plug yeosang x gender neutral reader
word count: 6.9k
masterlist
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Chicago had a way of chewing people up and spitting them back out looking a little more tired each day, and tonight, you felt like the city had gnawed straight through you. Your office badge was still clipped crooked to your blazer, your shoulders sore from eight hours of filing forms your dad swore would “build character,” and your brain half melted from listening to Mr. Henderson mispronounce your name every single day since you started. By the time you reached your apartment floor, the hallway’s flickering light felt like a personal attack as you muttered a curse under your breath and shifted your bag higher on your shoulder just in time to notice movement across the hall.
Yeosang’s door was cracked open, the faint curl of smoke slipping out like it was bored of being kept inside. His voice drifted out next, low and unhurried, the kind of voice that always sounded like it belonged at 2 am no matter what time it actually was. “yeah…. same price next week. Text before you come.” The guy he was talking to, a wiry kid in an oversized Bulls jacket, nodded fast, hands shoved deep in his pockets like he was afraid to touch anything in Yeosang’s place.
Yeosang walked him out, one hand lazily braced on the doorframe, blonde hair messy like he’d run his fingers through it more than once during the evening. A deal. Obviously. Not that you were surprised. In this building, the walls carried information better than the mail service ever did. You weren’t trying to stare… but Yeosang had that effect. Calm. Too pretty for the kind of trouble he sold. And just as the customer darted past you toward the elevator, his eyes lifted. “Hey,” he said, that soft curl at the corner of his mouth growing the second he really took you in. “Rough day?”
Your key dangled uselessly in your fingers. “How’d you guess?” His gaze skimmed over your rumpled blazer, your dead eyed office stare, the hand still gripping your bag like it had personally offended you. “You look like you need a nap… or a drink,” he said, stepping fully into the doorway now. “Maybe both.” Behind you, your best friend Hongjoong must’ve heard voices, because your apartment door cracked open just long enough for him to peek out, clock Yeosang, and silently vanish back inside without a word. The hallway suddenly felt smaller. Warmer. Buzzing with an energy that had nothing to do with the dying overhead light.
Yeosang tilted his head, hair falling into his eyes. “You eating dinner? Or did Mr. Henderson keep you chained to that desk again?” A quiet laugh slipped out of you. “Feels like it.” And because he always did this, always, he stepped just a little closer, enough that you could smell his cologne, subtle and smoky, woven with something earthy. Enough that your pulse gave itself away.
“Mm,” he hummed, brows lifting. “Welcome home then.” He said it like it meant something. Like you hadn’t been thinking about him since Thursday.
Like your dad wouldn’t throw a fit if he knew you were talking to him.bLike he knew exactly what he did to you. Before he could say anything else, he shifted back toward his doorway, but not before giving you one last slow sweep of his glance, head to toe, toe to head, old as sin and twice as tempting. “You need anything,” he added, voice softer now, almost private. “Just knock.” And with that, the door clicked shut.
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Your apartment always smelled faintly like fabric dye, incense, and whatever creative chaos Hongjoong had gotten himself into that day. Tonight it hit you the moment you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you with a soft click, an attempt at being quiet that fooled absolutely no one. Hongjoong was perched on the couch, knees tucked up, sketchbook open on his lap and pencil balanced behind his ear. He didn’t even pretend to be subtle about pausing mid sketch to stare at you. “You dumped Trevor two weeks ago,” he said in that tone he reserved specifically for when he was ready to be annoying. “And you still haven’t given in yet.”
Your bag hit the floor with a thud. “Oh my god, I just walked in.”
“Mhm.” He flipped a page in his sketchbook, not looking down once. “And you’re glowing.”
“I am not.”
“You are. You walked in here looking like someone smiled at you in a way that should be illegal.”
Heat crept traitorously up your neck. “It was just Yeosang.”
“Exactly.” Hongjoong closed his sketchbook with a soft thwap, turning fully toward you. His grin was devious, warm, and irritatingly accurate. “You want him. You’ve wanted him since the day we moved in.” You groaned and dragged a hand over your face. “I’m not talking about this.”
“Oh, you are,” he said, standing and crossing his arms like a tiny, fashionable interrogator. “Because you are free, single, hot, and living across the hall from a fae looking stoner prince and questionable employment choices. And you have not made a move.”
“I’m not making a move on the guy my dad would immediately arrest.”
Hongjoong scoffed. “Your dad would arrest the sun if it looked at you wrong. That’s not a real reason.”
“He deals…”
“He draws. He listens to dubstep. He helps Mrs. Rivera bring her groceries upstairs. And he always, always looks at you like you’re about to ruin his life in the best possible way.”
Your stomach dipped. Because that wasn’t untrue. “And,” Hongjoong added, waving his pencil like a wand, “you keep pretending you two don’t flirt every single time you see each other.”
“We don’t flirt,” you muttered weakly and he gave you a look that said you were absolutely delusional. “Sweetheart. He smiles at you like that. Every time. Meanwhile, he barely remembers my name.”
“That’s because you called him Yolanda for the first month.”
Hongjoong waved that away. “Irrelevant. What matters is you’re into him, he’s into you, and now that Trevor the Cheater is gone? You have no reason not to go for it.” You exhaled, long and slow, collapsing onto the couch beside him. “I’m not… scared,” you said quietly. “Just… cautious.”
“Yeah,” he said, nudging your shoulder affectionately. “But sometimes the fun stuff lives exactly where your caution stops.” You shot him a look and he grinned like a gremlin who’d just won an argument he absolutely planned to revisit later. “You want Yeosang,” he said again, softer now. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t.”
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Chicago nights had their own rhythm, sirens somewhere in the distance, trains humming through the dark, the occasional burst of laughter from the bar on the corner. By the time midnight rolled around, your apartment had settled into a sleepy hush. Hongjoong was knocked out cold on the couch, limbs tangled in a blanket he definitely stole from your room, sketchbook open on his chest like a shield. Poor guy never made it to bed when he got into one of his design spirals. You sighed and picked up the overstuffed trash bag he swore he’d take out in five minutes, and slipped into the hallway wearing nothing but a tank top and pajama shorts. Comfortable. Innocent. Dangerous, if the wrong pair of eyes landed on you.
The elevator was broken again, so you took the stairs. The stairwell was quiet, lit by that moody orange security bulb that always made you feel like you were passing through a crime documentary reenactment. You pushed open the back door toward the dumpster and nearly collided with Yeosang. He was standing under the dim alley light, breath fogging faintly in the chilly air. Black hoodie unzipped. But he wasn’t alone. Three others clustered near him, two guys you vaguely recognized as neighbors from the second floor, and a girl hanging off his arm like she’d been born there. She had glossy lips, a tiny skirt, and nails painted the same dark shade as Yeosang’s. Her hand was on his bicep, fingers tracing little circles like she owned the access.
Yeosang didn’t exactly welcome it, but he didn’t seem bothered either. He had that half distracted look he wore during deals, polite enough not to piss anyone off, detached enough to keep boundaries intact. The second he saw you, though….. His posture shifted. His attention snapped. And the girl’s hand? Ignored like she’d suddenly turned invisible. “Careful,” he said, taking a half step forward so you didn’t actually bump into him. His voice dipped lower, softer, something unmistakably warm in it. “Didn’t expect you to be out this late.”
Your fingers tightened around the trash bag. “Hongjoong fell asleep on the couch again.”
Yeosang’s mouth twitched. “Yeah? Sounds like him.” One of the guys glanced between you and Yeosang, eyebrows lifting like he’d just witnessed a plot twist as the girl tugged at his arm again, trying to pull his attention back to her but Yeosang didn’t even look her way. “Cold out here,” he said to you, eyes dragging, slowly, deliberately over your bare legs before flicking back up. “You should’ve put on a jacket.”
The girl finally snapped her gum. “Yeo…”
“Yeosang,” he corrected absently, still looking at you. Like you were the only one standing in that alley. You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of the thin strap of your tank top slipping off your shoulder. He noticed, you knew he did, because his jaw flexed just once. “What’re you doing down here?” you asked, trying for casual and failing miserably. He nodded toward the trio behind him. “Seeing some people out. Nothing exciting.” It was almost laughable how blatantly he’d checked out of their conversation the moment you appeared. One of the guys even nudged the girl with a smirk like, tough luck.
Yeosang took another small step closer, like he couldn’t help it. “You need help with that?” he asked, chin dipping toward the trash bag in your hand. “No, I got it.” He hummed. soft, amused and definitely flirting. “Didn’t say you didn’t. Just asked if you wanted help.” Your heart stuttered as behind him, the girl huffed dramatically, folding her arms when she realized his attention wasn’t returning. “Anyway,” he murmured, brushing a bit of hair from his face, “didn’t expect to run into you.” His tone made it sound a whole lot like, glad I did.
The trash bag barely weighed anything, but Yeosang plucked it out of your hand like it offended him, fingers brushing your knuckles in a way that shot heat straight up your arm. He didn’t say anything about the touch, he just gave you that lazy, unreadable glance before turning and tossing the bag effortlessly into the dumpster as the girl called his name again, sharper this time, but he didn’t even look back. Instead, he lifted his chin at the group, a wordless, go on, and the two guys immediately started drifting toward the street. The girl lingered, clearly irritated, but after a beat she scoffed and followed them.
By the time you pushed the building door open, Yeosang was already falling into step behind you, hands in his pockets, steps unhurried like he had all the time in the world. Inside, the hallway’s quiet hum wrapped around the two of you. He walked just close enough that you could feel his warmth at your side, close enough that your pulse betrayed you. He waited until you were halfway down the hall before speaking. “Haven’t seen Trevor around,” he said, voice steady but threaded with something darker. “Did the building luck out and lose him, or….”
You snorted under your breath. “You really didn’t like him, huh?”
Yeosang’s expression sharpened for a moment, jaw tightening, lips pressing into a line that told you he’d been holding back a long list of opinions. “He was loud,” he said. “And rude. And fake nice to Hongjoong. And he looked at you like you were furniture.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t frown. He just stated it like a fact he’d been cataloguing for months as you slowed your steps, turning your head slightly. “Well… I broke up with him.”
Yeosang stopped walking. His boots went still on the hallway carpet. His breath caught just slightly. And when you turned fully to face him, his eyes were already on you. “Yeah?” he asked quietly and you could only nod. For a second, he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Like his brain had just short circuited on one simple phrase, you broke up with him. Because now? Now you were single. Now the thing he’d been quietly wanting since the day you and Hongjoong moved in, messy arms full of boxes, your laugh echoing down this same hallway, was suddenly not off limits.
He stepped closer. Not enough to crowd you. Just enough that you felt the charge between you tighten into something unmistakable. “Why’d you dump him?” he asked, voice low making you swallow. “He cheated on me.” Silence enveloped around you. Not empty silence, charged silence. Hot silence. The kind that felt like a fuse had just been lit between you as Yeosang’s jaw flexed once and his eyes lowered, then lifted again, slower this time, heavier. “Figures,” he murmured. “He never deserved you.” His voice wasn’t jealous. It wasn’t angry. It was protective. Possessive in a way he wasn’t even trying to hide. And underneath it all, there was this steady hum of restraint, like he was two steps away from saying something he’d been holding back for way too long.
He took another half step toward you, bleached blonde hair falling into his eyes, breath brushing your cheek. “You okay?” he asked. Not out of politeness. Not out of habit. But like he genuinely cared. Like he’d been caring this whole time. Your fingers tightened on the doorknob, the cool metal grounding you just enough to keep your voice steady. But Yeosang’s eyes, soft, intent, right there, made honesty slip out far too easily. “No…” you said quietly. “I mean… I’m fine with the whole Trevor thing. It’s not like I thought I was going to marry him or was in love with him. But…” A breath left you. Slow and heavy. “It’s my dad. My job. It almost feels like it’s… suffocating.”
Yeosang didn’t look away for even a second. He wasn’t doing that polite nod people do when they’re pretending to listen. He was actually listening. Every word, every pause, every little crack in your voice. And that alone nearly undid you. He shifted his weight, stepping just an inch closer, enough that the air between you warmed. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I get that.” His gaze swept over your face once, slow and thoughtful before he asked, almost too casually, “You ever smoke before?”
The look you gave him was half disbelief, half are you insane, because… Your father is literally a cop. Your father has lectured you more times than you can count about staying away from people like that. And people like that was standing three inches from you with his eyes softening in a way that made your pulse skip. “Yeo…” you said, warning in your tone and his lips curled into a slow, sinful smile. The kind that said he knew exactly what he was doing. The kind that made your knees feel like unreliable furniture. “Come on,” he said gently, voice dipping low again. Sometimes you forgot just how deep his voice could get. “I got just the thing to make that pretty head of yours relax.”
Your breath stalled. Pretty head. Relax. His voice wrapping around the words like warm smoke. He wasn’t teasing you, not really. He wasn’t being reckless or pushy, either. He was offering. Like he wanted to give you something he thought you deserved. He angled his head slightly as he looked at you through his lashes. “You trust me?” he asked, barely above a whisper and your heartbeat answered before you did.
You didn’t even have time to second guess yourself. One soft, “yeah” under your breath, and Yeosang was already pushing off the wall, opening his door with a quiet click, waiting for you to step inside first like he’d been imagining this moment far longer than he’d ever admit. His apartment felt like stepping into someone’s brain, someone chaotic, talented, messy in the way artists always are, and somehow still effortlessly cool. Warm, dim lighting. EDM music humming low from an old stereo in the corner, something moody and atmospheric. The TV was mounted on the wall playing anime on mute, subtitles dancing across the screen. And then the details that made your breath catch…. A record player on a shelf with a stack of vinyl beside it. A worn couch with a dark throw blanket tossed over the back.
A sketchbook left open on the coffee table, sitting next to a rolling tray full of papers, a grinder, and the unmistakable scent of something you’d never admit smelled… kind of nice. You’d never been inside his apartment before, and it was exactly him. Warm. Loner. Unexpectedly soft around the edges. Your eyes drifted to the open sketchbook first. On the page, charcoal lines, quick strokes, something half finished but unmistakably intimate. Shoulders. A throat. The curve of a jaw. Someone he’d been studying carefully.
Yeosang saw where you were looking but didn’t comment. He just smiled that quiet, knowing smile and walked past you, fingers brushing the stereo to turn the music down a notch. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, nodding at the couch. “Ignore the mess.” There wasn’t really a mess. Just signs of a life lived late at night, records, loose drawings, sleeves of snacks, a hoodie draped over the arm of the sofa, a katana on the wall that you were hoping was decorative but… with Yeosang? Hard to tell.
Your gaze drifted again to the sketchbook. You couldn’t help it. “That one’s… rough,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t done.”
“It’s good,” you murmured, taking a seat on the couch.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice warm, like your opinion actually meant something as he dropped onto the couch beside you, not too close, not too far. Close enough you could feel the heat radiating off him. Close enough the faint scent of smoke and sandalwood tugged at you as he nodded toward the rolling tray. “Alright,” he said lightly, “let’s get you out of that headspace before you implode.”
You blinked. “Implode?”
“You looked five seconds from it in the hallway.” He gave you a small smirk. “Figured I’d help.” He picked up the grinder. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, voice dipping low once more, almost careful now. “No pressure. No expectations. Just… letting you breathe a little.” And the way he said it, calm, patient, like he’d never push you farther than you wanted to go, made something in your chest unwind. You nodded and his smile softened as he set to work. Slow movements. Confident hands. The soft scrape of metal. The quiet rustle of paper. And every now and then, he glanced at you. Small, secretive looks that landed like sparks. “You can put on whatever you want,” he murmured, nodding at the remote. “Or leave the anime. Either way.”
You flicked your eyes to the TV, some battle scene frozen mid frame on mute, and breathed out a tiny laugh. He liked the sound of it. You could tell by the way his fingers slowed. “Relax,” he whispered. “You’re safe here.” He worked with a slow, practiced ease, palming the leaf paper, fingers moving with that calm confidence that made you wonder how many nights he’d spent right here, doing exactly this. The blunt took shape under his hands, tight and perfect, and he sealed it with one drag of his tongue that made your stomach flip entirely too hard.
He didn’t seem to notice the way your breath caught. Or maybe he did. He usually did. When he was finished, he leaned back against the couch, lighter flicking open with a soft metallic snap. The tiny flame lit his face in warm gold, catching on his hair and the silver hoops in his ears as he brought the blunt to his lips. You watched, too intently, maybe, but you couldn’t look away as he took a long, slow inhale, cheeks hollowing Eyes half lidded with smoke curling at the edges of his mouth like he’d stepped right out of a dream you weren’t supposed to have. Then he exhaled smooth, controlled, letting the air between you thicken just a little. Without a word, he held it out to you and your pulse jumped.
The blunt hovered inches from your hand, and you just… stared. Because suddenly your dad’s voice was there in your head. Along with the image of him showing up out of nowhere, finding you here, and dying on the spot before resurrecting for the sole purpose of killing Yeosang. You hesitated and he just watched you with those dark, steady eyes, soft around the edges, patient in a way that made your heart ache. “It’s just us,” he murmured. “No one’s finding out.”
Your throat tightened, but you reached out anyway. Your fingers brushed his as you took the blunt and brought it to your lips. The first hit made a tiny cough escape you, embarrassing and immediate. Yeosang smiled, small, real and fond. “Not bad,” he murmured as you took another hit. Then another. Something in your chest loosening, edges softening, the day finally starting to melt away and Yeosang watched every second. His eyes followed the way your lips closed around the end. The way your shoulders relaxed. The way the tension eased out of you, inch by inch. And there was something in his expression, quiet and hungry and impossibly tender, that made your next inhale deeper than you meant it to be.
“Easy,” he said softly, leaning just a little closer. “You’re doing good.” His voice felt like smoke too, warm, slow, wrapping around you in a way that made your thighs clench. And suddenly, being here… with him… alone… Yeosang took the blunt from your fingers with that same careful touch, like he didn’t want to break the moment, or you, or whatever soft thing had settled between the two of you.
He took a slow drag, exhaling toward the ceiling, smoke swirling lazily above him before drifting into the dim light. His hoodie slipped off one shoulder as he leaned back, revealing the black tank top underneath, stretched perfectly across his chest. His birthmark by his eye making him look ethereal with the blonde hair. God, he looked good. Unfairly good. You sank deeper into the couch, warmth spreading through your limbs, the noise of the city fading to nothing.
The high crept in slowly, soft around the edges, turning your muscles into warm taffy and your thoughts into something looser, silkier, impossible to hold onto for more than a second as Yeosang assed the blunt back to you. You brought it to your lips, inhaled, exhaled, your chest swelling, head tipping back against the couch. The ceiling blurred pleasantly, and you felt… free. Lighter. Like the world had let up on its chokehold for once. When you passed it to him, he didn’t look away from you. Not once. He took it, slow and deliberate, watching the way your eyelids had grown heavy, the way your body relaxed into his couch like it belonged there.
He took a hit, smoke slipping out of the corner of his mouth before he murmured. “Good?” You nodded, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah… yeah. Really good.” He smirked, looking almost proud of himself, as if calming you down was a skill he’d always wanted an excuse to show off. You took the blunt again. Another inhale. Another wave of warmth. And then your thoughts…. loosened by the high, softened by the music, sharpened by the boy sitting next to you, began drifting exactly where they shouldn’t.
He was beautiful. Like, stupidly beautiful. Blonde hair falling into his eyes in a way that shouldn’t be legal. Jawline sharp enough to hurt someone. Lips soft, parted slightly as he breathed smoke out. Thick lashes casting shadows you could get lost in. And those eyes, dark, warm, always gentle with you and only you. You felt your stomach dip again. Then felt panic. Hongjoong was right. Of course he was right.
You wanted Yeosang. You’d always wanted him. Ever since you moved in. Ever since he smiled at you in the hallway for the first time. You wanted him. And high or not, you couldn’t pretend otherwise anymore as your head lolled slightly to the side, eyes drifting back to him. He was already watching you. Really watching you. Like he could see every thought slipping through your mind. Like he liked what he saw there.
The blunt hovered between the two of you again, glowing softly at the tip, and his lips curled around a slow, knowing smile. “Feeling better?” he asked, voice low, warm, and just a little dangerous and the truth spilled right through you. “Yeah… I am.” And maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was both. But suddenly the space between you didn’t feel nearly big enough. “My dad would kill you if he knew you were corrupting me.” The second the words left your lips, you froze.
Yeosang choked out a laugh, low and rough at the edges and warm enough to make your stomach dip. Then he grinned. Full, wide, unbothered and a little smug. “Oh, I know,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch, smoke curling toward the ceiling. “Trust me, your dad’s got that look every time he sees me. Like he’s trying to figure out if arresting me on sight is worth the paperwork.”
Your lips twitched. “It probably is.”
“Oh, he’d love to throw me in a cell,” Yeosang murmured, eyes drifting back to you. “But not nearly as much as he hates the fact that I live across the hall from his kid.” Heat crawled up your neck. “You should’ve seen the way he glared at me last week,” he continued, voice dipping rougher with amusement. “He looked at me like I was singlehandedly destroying the youth of Chicago.” You snorted, covering your smile with your hand. “Well… you do deal.”
Yeosang shrugged, stretching one arm over the back of the couch, casual, but close enough that your shoulder brushed his hoodie. “Yeah,” he said softly, “but that’s not why he hates me.” Your breath stalled as he watched you, pausing and letting the weight of his own words hang between you, warm and electric. “He hates me,” he said, voice dropping to something deeper, “because he knows I notice you.”
Your heart flipped so hard it hurt as he took the blunt back, inhaled, exhaled slowly, smoke drifting between you like a secret. “Knows I look at you,” he added. “Knows I… like you.” Your pulse stumbled and your mouth went dry as the high wrapped around you like warm velvet. And Yeosang watched your reaction with that same lazy, devastating smile. “Corrupting you,” he repeated amused. “You really think that’s what I’m doing?”
Your laugh came out breathy. “Feels like it.”
He leaned closer, not touching you, just near enough that you felt his warmth slide along your skin. “Nah,” he whispered. “You came over here all on your own.” He stood, stretching a little as he walked to the kitchen, and the motion pulled your eyes with it. He grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge, tossing one lightly into your hands before dropping back onto the couch beside you much closer than before. He shrugged out of his hoodie in one fluid motion, and your breath caught. The black tank top underneath clung to him, defined shoulders, defined arms, the faintest line of muscle shifting when he twisted the cap off his water. You took a sip of yours just to keep your mouth from hanging open.
He glanced over mid sip, catching you staring but he didn’t call you out on it. He just smirked, a tiny, knowing twitch at the corner of his mouth as you exhaled, heat spreading through you, leaning back into the couch as you felt that feeling of panic again. Then, before you could think better of it, you blurted, “Can we smoke another one?” Because maybe that would calm your nerves. Yeosang stopped mid drink. For a second, he just blinked at you… and then he let out a breathless laugh, head falling back, hair brushing his cheek. “Oh,” he said, voice warm and disbelieving, “you’re dangerous.”
He set the water down, reaching across your bare legs for the rolling tray on the table. His arm brushed your thigh, warm, solid and he pulled the tray toward him. Except… he miscalculated. The tray slipped, tilted and fumbled. And the entire handful of weed tipped forward right onto your thighs. Your eyes widened and his did too as he froze, breath catching tight in his throat. “Don’t move,” he said sharply, panic wrapped in a whisper as you looked down.
The small pile of green sat perfectly cradled in the crease where your thighs were pressed together, held neatly in place by your bare skin and the edge of your shorts. One wrong shift and the whole pile would spill onto the couch. Yeosang set the tray aside, lifting his hands like he’d just witnessed a bomb detonate. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, staring at your thighs like they’d betrayed him personally. “Okay, uh…. dont…. just… don’t move.” His voice was low, frantic, but something else simmered beneath it. Something he was definitely trying not to let slip.
“You good?” you asked softly.
“No,” he said too quickly. Then he cleared his throat. “I mean…. yeah. I’m fine. Totally fine. Just… don’t move.”
You bit your lip to keep from smiling as his eyes flicked up, caught the smile, then dropped back to your thighs because he had no choice. The sight clearly did things to him. He swallowed hard. “I swear I’m not doing this on purpose,” he mumbled, already leaning forward, hands hovering over your legs but not quite touching. “But… holy shit…. don’t move.” He stared at the precarious pile again, exhaling through his nose like he needed a moment to collect himself. Your bare legs. Your thighs. His weed. Yeosang let out a slow breath, then gently pushed the coffee table back with one hand, clearing space between his knees and yours. The movement was smooth, almost cautious, like he already knew the situation was balancing on the razor’s edge of becoming something neither of you could pretend away later.
Then he lowered himself onto his knees in front of you and the sight alone made heat crawl up your throat. He glanced up, silently asking permission and you nodded. His hand hovered for a second, steady but tense, before he brought it to your thigh, using the side of his fingers to scrape the scattered pieces back onto the tray. His touch was careful, the barest brush against your skin. Still, every tiny drag sent a warm shiver up your legs. He cleared most of it easily… but the smaller bits clung stubbornly to your skin, catching in the warmth of your thighs. He sat back on his heels for a moment, exhaling. “Okay,” he murmured, voice a little rough, “I think that’s the majority of it.”
You didn’t say anything. You just slowly… let your thighs part and Yeosang froze. The rolling tray creaked under the pressure of his grip, like he was holding onto it for dear life. His eyes darted up to your face, wide, dark, stunned, before lowering again despite himself. He swallowed hard, adams apple bobbing and you smirked despite your nerves peaking. His jaw tightened. His breathing slowed, like he was physically restraining himself from taking in too much at once. Still kneeling. Still inches from where he wanted to look. He stayed perfectly still for another second, like moving too fast would somehow make the moment worse. His fingers flexed once around the rolling tray before he let out a slow breath through his nose. “You are going to be the death of me,” he muttered, the words barely louder than the music drifting through the apartment.
You couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at your lips. “What?” He shook his head, laughing quietly to himself. “Nothing.” It absolutely wasn’t nothing. His attention dropped back to your thighs, though this time he was determined not to linger. Using the edge of his thumb, he carefully gathered the stubborn little flakes that refused to cooperate, brushing them onto the tray with painstaking precision. Every accidental touch against your skin sent another spark racing through both of you. “There,” he murmured at last, setting the tray safely on the coffee table. “Crisis averted.”
You looked down dramatically. “You saved the weed.”
“I did.”
“Not me.”
Yeosang finally looked back up, one brow lifting. “You weren’t the one in danger.” A laugh bubbled out of you, loose and genuine, the sound filling the apartment in a way that made something soften behind his eyes. “There it is,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“That laugh. Haven’t heard it in a while.” His smile slowly faded into something smaller. “I missed it.” Neither of you spoke after that. The silence wasn’t awkward. It just felt… full. Yeosang cleared his throat first, almost embarrassed by his own honesty, and reached for the grinder again. “So…” he said, deliberately lighter. “Round two?” You nodded immediately and he laughed. “I knew you were going to say yes.”
“You called me dangerous.”
“I’m beginning to think I was right.” He rolled the second blunt a little slower this time, mostly because he kept catching himself looking at you instead of his hands. When it was finished, he lit it with another flick of the lighter, taking the first inhale before passing it over. “No heroics,” he reminded softly. “Little hits.”
“Yes, mom.”
He gave you an unimpressed look. “I don’t think that’s a sentence anyone’s ever said to me.”
“It is now.”
You both laughed. The second blunt tasted smoother somehow, the smoke no longer unfamiliar. The music wrapped around the apartment like a blanket while muted anime continued playing in the background, forgotten by both of you. Conversation came easier. You talked about Hongjoong’s habit of stealing everyone’s hoodies. Yeosang admitted Mrs. Rivera paid him in homemade empanadas whenever he carried her groceries upstairs. You confessed you’d once accidentally microwaved ramen without water during finals week.
He laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes. “You actually did that?”
“I was exhausted!”
“You made… toasted noodles.”
“I know!”
“I wish I’d seen it.”
“You would’ve bullied me.”
“I absolutely would’ve.”
The room felt lighter. Safer. Until… something shifted. It started subtly. Your heartbeat, which had been comfortably slow moments ago, suddenly kicked hard against your ribs. Then harder. The apartment suddenly felt… warmer. The music louder. Your thoughts, which had been drifting lazily before, began tripping over each other. You swallowed. “Yeo?”
“Hm?”
“I…” You frowned. “I feel…” Your chest tightened as you took a breath but it didn’t feel like enough. You took another. Still not enough. The walls seemed just a little farther away than they had been a second ago. Your fingers curled around the water bottle. “I…” You laughed once, nervously. “I don’t think…” Yeosang’s smile disappeared and he sat up straighter. “Hey.” Your breathing grew quicker without you meaning for it to. “I don’t… I can’t…”
“Look at me.”
You tried but your vision had started swimming. “I think something’s wrong.”
His stomach dropped. Shit. Too much. It was your first time. He’d warned you to go slow. He set the blunt down immediately, leaning closer. “Hey, hey… you’re okay.”
“I don’t think I am.”
“You are.”
“No…” Your breathing became quicker still. “I can’t catch my breath.”
Yeosang’s mind went completely blank. He’d dealt with difficult customers. Nosy neighbors. Even one guy who’d passed out in his hallway. But this? This was different. Because it was you. He reached for your hands, wrapping both of his around them. “Look at me.” Your eyes darted to his. “They’re…” You shook your head. “Everything feels weird.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I know.”
His own heart was racing now. Think. Think. Do something. Anything. Then, completely out of nowhere, an absurd memory surfaced. Some show he watched one random late night half asleep months ago.…. “I’m about to do something really stupid,” he murmured and you blinked at him, confused. “What?” He hesitated only another heartbeat. Then, gently, he cupped your face, thumbs resting lightly against your cheeks. “If this doesn’t work,” he whispered, almost apologetically, “you have full permission to make fun of me for the rest of my life.”
Before you could ask what he meant…. he leaned forward and his lips met yours in the softest kiss imaginable. Not rushed. Not demanding. Just warm. Gentle. A quiet press of his mouth against yours that lasted only a few seconds before he slowly pulled back, staying close enough that your foreheads nearly touched and your breathing had paused in surprise. “I…” he admitted sheepishly, refusing to hide now that he’d committed, “I saw it on TV once.”
You stared at him. “What?”
“A panic attack…” He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, looking adorably embarrassed. “The character said sometimes… kissing someone can make you hold your breath for a second and… I don’t know, gives your brain something else to focus on.” He winced. “It sounded a lot smarter on television.” Silence stretched between you once again before you tugged Yeosang closer by the front of his shirt, the high making every sensation sharper and softer at once again.
Your mouth found his, this time with more heat, tongues sliding together as you pressed in deep. The kiss turned messy fast, breaths mingling while your hands roamed up his chest and without breaking contact you shifted, swinging one leg over to straddle him fully, settling into his lap with a slow grind of your hips that made him groan into your mouth. The panic from earlier had faded completely under the haze and the feel of him beneath you. You trailed kisses down his jaw to his neck, sucking lightly at the skin there, tasting salt and warmth. Your lips parted against his pulse point, tongue flicking out as your fingers dipped lower, tracing the waistband of his pants then you hooked a thumb inside, tugging gently at the fabric, ready to push further…..
Yeosang's hands came up to catch yours, firm but gentle, pulling them back up to rest on his shoulders. "We can't do this while you're high," he said, voice low and rough against your ear. His breath hitched as you nipped at his throat again. "I want to. Fuck, I want you more than anything right now. But not like this. Not when your head isn't clear."
You kissed him again, slow and lingering, before pulling back just enough to murmur against his lips, "Then no sex... yet." The words hung between you as you rocked your hips forward, pressing down against the growing hardness in his pants making him grip your hips in response, fingers digging in to guide the motion, helping build that steady friction. You moved in long, deliberate rolls, feeling the outline of his dick rub right where you needed it, mostly through the layers of clothing. Each grind sent sparks up your spine as you kept the pace unhurried at first, savoring the way his body tensed under you, the way his thumbs stroked circles on your skin just above your waistband.
The fabric of his pants created just enough drag against you, building heat with every pass. Your hands slid up into his hair, tugging lightly as you leaned in to kiss his neck again, open mouthed and wet, leaving marks that would show later. Yeosang's breathing grew heavier, his grip tightening to angle your hips better, pressing you down harder on each forward rock so the pressure hit deeper. You lost track of time in the rhythm, the room fading to just the sound of shared breaths and the soft creak of the couch under you.
Your movements grew a fraction quicker as the tension coiled tighter in your belly and Yeosang helped, lifting his own hips in small thrusts to meet yours, the friction turning insistent. You felt yourself tipping over, thighs trembling around him as the orgasm rolled through in waves, your body clenching and pulsing against the hard line of him as a soft moan escaped your throat, muffled into his shoulder.
He didn't stop. Instead he pulled you even closer, grinding you frantically now against him, using your hips like handles to chase his own release. The movements turning desperate, short and sharp, his dick twitching under the repeated pressure and you stayed with him through it, kissing his neck and jaw as he came with a low curse, heat spreading between you both as he held you tight through the aftershocks. The scent of weed and heat and hints of sex masked the air.
“So…..” his hands were still gripping your hips. “that’s one way to relax.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. Breathless and satisfied. You kissed his jaw, trailing your lips back up to his own. “Want to smoke another one?”
Yeosang leaned his head back, chuckling and glancing back at you still in his lap.
03JYH23 Presents: The Ateez Diaries, a 2k followers Vampire Special 🩸
Yeosang is getting dressed for work, looking so devastatingly, unfairly handsome that it actually makes you angry. Between your hormones and your skin practically burning with need, you decide you aren’t letting him leave the bedroom today. The solution? Sneaking his daylight ring off the nightstand. If he wants to go to work, he’s going to have to fight through the sun—or stay right here and deal with you.
➢ vampire!yeosang x human!reader | ➢ supernatural au, vampire au, domestic romance, comedy, smut | ➢ spoilers ahead, explicit sexual content; pregnancy talk, breeding kink, manhandling (bc he’s a vampire, obviously), dirty talk, possessiveness, semi-clothed sex, degradation, praise, brat taming, feeding during sex, missionary, blood | ➢ 6.3k | ➢ master list
Kang Yeosang was, by all means, a masterpiece of a man.
Standing in front of the bedroom mirror, he adjusted the collar of his black, silk button-down with grace. His blonde hair fell perfectly around his eyebrows, and his dark eyes were calm and focused. He looked elegant. He looked expensive. He looked incredibly, unfairly sexy.
And you, sitting on the edge of the bed in an oversized t-shirt, were currently losing your mind.
It wasn’t just that he looked good—he always looked good. It was the fact that your body was currently operating on peak ovulation hormones. Every single evolutionary instinct in your DNA was screaming at you, flashing a giant neon sign that pointed directly at your vampire boyfriend. He smelled incredible. He looked incredible. The mere sight of his pale fingers adjusting his cuffs was making you dizzy. You didn’t want him to go to work. In fact, you were ready to fight the entire city of Seoul to keep him in this room.
A wave of heat bloomed beneath your collarbone, rushing upward until your cheeks were burning, thoroughly flushed. Beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, your nipples hardened into tight, sensitive peaks, chafing agonizingly against the cotton with every breath you took. A heavy ache settled deep in your lower stomach, radiating downward until your thighs tensed, unconsciously pressing together to try and soothe the sudden friction building between them.
“I should be back by dawn,” Yeosang said, his voice was smooth as he reached for his watch on the dresser. “The meeting shouldn’t run too late, but you know how the elders love to hear themselves speak.”
“Mmm,” you hummed, staring fixedly at the hollow of his throat. Take me instead, your brain unhelpfully suggested.
Yeosang paused, glancing at you through the mirror. A subtle, knowing smirk playing on his lips. As a vampire, he was acutely aware of the sudden, intense spike in your body chemistry over the last twenty-four hours. He could hear your heart hammering against your ribs, and the scent of a spike in estrogen was practically vibrating in the room. He found it endearing, if a bit distracting. “Are you alright?” he asked, turning around to face you fully. He leaned back against the dresser, crossing his arms. “You’re staring at me like you want to eat me alive. Which is technically my job.”
“You look nice,” you said, your voice a little tighter than usual.
“Thank you, my love.” He smiled, approaching the nightstand to grab his final, most crucial accessory. He swept his hand over the polished wood, searching for the familiar metal. Then, he paused. Yeosang looked down, moved a book, then lifted his charger.
Nothing.
“That’s strange,” his brow furrowed slightly. “Where did I put my daylight ring?” On the bed, you suddenly found the loose thread on your blanket deeply, intensely fascinating. You began to pick at it as Yeosang turned to you slowly, he took in your suddenly rigid posture and the guilty flush creeping up your neck. He let out a soft, amused sigh, walking over to the edge of the bed, stopping right in front of you, the expensive scent of his cologne enveloping your senses. “Darling,” he said softly, his tone gentle, but with a hint of accusation. “Where is my ring?”
“I don’t know,” you lied, looking up at him with the widest, most innocent eyes you could muster. “Did you lose it? Oh no. Guess you can’t go out in the sun. Guess you have to stay inside. In the dark. With me.”
Yeosang closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting out a breath that was half-laugh, half-groan. He knelt down, putting himself at eye level with you. Up close, his beauty was dizzying. “I have to attend the meeting,” he said gently, a playful glint in his eyes. “Considering the sun rose at six in the morning and I’d rather not combust on my way to the office... I’m going to need it back.”
“No,” you blurted out, abandoning all pretense of innocence.
Yeosang blinked, genuinely surprised by your bluntness. “No?”
“No. If you leave, I’ll die,” you whined, leaning forward and burying your face into his neck, inhaling deeply. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, keeping him in the spot. “You smell too good. You look too good. You are a safety hazard to my sanity. Stay home.”
Yeosang’s hands, cool and soothing against your warm skin, came up to rest on your hips. He didn’t push you away; instead, he tilted his head to give you better access to his neck, his thumb caressing your hip bone through your shirt. “Is that what this is?” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerously smooth. “A hostage situation driven by hormones?”
“Yes,” you mumbled against his skin, kissing the sweet spot right beneath his jaw. Yeosang let out a soft breath, his grip on your hips tightening just a fraction. For a second, his cool, composed exterior wavered. His fangs pricked the inside of his lip as your racing pulse beat frantically against his senses. It was incredibly tempting to just cave in, throw the silk shirt on the floor, and show you exactly what he could do.
But, he took a slow breath, regaining his signature control. He leaned back just enough to look into your dazed eyes, a devastatingly handsome smirk on his face. “As much as I would love to spend the next several hours answering your... biological demands,” he purred, “I have a business to run. Now, where is the ring?”
You pouted, glaring at him. “I’m not telling.”
Yeosang raised a single eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Darling, if you don’t tell me, I’ll just have to use my compulsion on you. Or worse... I’ll use my supernatural agility to search the room and find it anyway.”
That was the final straw. The threat of him actually leaving—of that gorgeous, silk-clad body walking out the door and leaving you alone with a raging hormonal wildfire—shattered whatever microscopic shred of restraint you had left. With a loud, exasperated groan, you threw yourself back onto the mattress, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, shaking your head side to side into the pillow. “You are the worst,” you whined loudly, glaring daggers at the ceiling. “You’re doing this on purpose! You know exactly what time of the month it is, you know I’m burning up, and you’re just going to work!? In these pants?! It’s literal torture, Yeosang! I hate you! Just get over here and fix it, now!”
From the doorway, you didn’t even know when he get this far, a low, smooth sound cut through your dramatic display. Yeosang hadn’t left yet, he was leaning his tall, elegant frame against the doorframe, arms crossed, deeply amused smirk carved across his handsome face as he watched you writhe and kick around the bed. “Are you quite finished?” he asked, voice completely unbothered. He didn’t look angry; if anything, your little tantrum was only feeding his ego. He took a slow, deliberate step back into the room. “Because watching you throw a tantrum over my pants is easily the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all century.”
You huffed, turning your head away from his gaze and burying your face into a pillow. “I'm not throwing a tantrum,” you mumbled into the fabric.
Yeosang let out a chuckle that sent a shiver straight down your spine. The sound of his dress shoes pressing into the carpet told you he was getting closer, moving with that silent vampire grace. “Right. Of course you aren’t,” the mattress dipped significantly under his weight as he crawled up the bed, looming over your dramatic, face-down form. His cool hand wrapped firmly around your ankle, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. “Now, are you going to keep kicking my sheets, or are you going to turn around and look at me properly?”
You huffed, keeping your face buried in the pillow, you couldn’t help but kick your free leg a little just to be petty. “I'm not looking at you, you’re mean. Go to your stupid board meeting.” With one effortless yank, he dragged you down the mattress until your hips bumped right against his shins. “Yeosang!” you shrieked, your dramatic scowl returning instantly as you scrambled to sit up, clutching a pillow to your chest like a shield.
He was kneeling over you now. “You’re pouting,” he observed flatly, the corner of his lips twitching upward as he reached out and casually plucked the pillow from your arms, tossing it over his shoulder onto the floor. “It’s a very undignified look for someone who was just trying to boss around a centuries-old vampire.”
“I was not bossing you—”
“You were,” he interrupted, his long fingers wrapping around both of your wrists. He didn’t squeeze, but the weight of his grip was an instant reminder of his power. He leaned down, his face stopping just inches from yours, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “And while I find your little temper tantrum incredibly endearing... my patience for your mouth just ran out, darling.” The playful, teasing warmth in his eyes vanished in a single blink, swallowed instantly by a sudden, pitch-black hunger that made your breath catch right in your throat. The atmosphere in the room shifted, temperature getting lower, so fast it felt like the air pressure dropped.
Your hands grabbed the lapels of his black shirt, your fingers digging into the expensive silk as you crashed into his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around you as you tackled him down, the momentum forcing him flat onto his back. Now, you straddled his hips, pinning his thighs down with yours. The friction of your sensitive skin against his slacks sent a violent jolt of electricity straight to your core. You leaned down, your hands framing his face, your chest heaving against his as you looked down at him with desperation. “I swear to god, Kang Yeosang,” you breathed, “If you don’t put a baby inside me right now, I am the one who is going to combust. Forget the sun!”
Yeosang froze beneath you. For a second, his brain completely short-circuited. He looked up at your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, and the hunger in your eyes. A dangerous heat flared in his chest, instantly obliterating his “businessman” composure. The sharp tips of his fangs elongated, sliding down past his lip, glinting in the dim light of your bedroom. His hands, which had been resting gently on your waist, gripped your hips with bruising intensity, keeping you firmly against his lap—where you could feel the undeniable proof that his “vampiric self-control” had just completely left the building. “A baby? You’re lucky my dead body can’t actually make you pregnant, because with a mouth like that, I would have kept you locked in my bed and dripping with my mess months ago.”
“I don’t care about the logistics!” you shot back, your voice nothing but a desperate whine as you intentionally ground your hips down against his. The friction was dizzying, making your head spin and your cheeks burn hotter. “Work it out! Use your supernatural adaptation! Do something besides standing there looking like a sex god!”
Yeosang’s hips instinctively jerked up to meet yours before he caught himself. His knuckles turned white where they were gripping your waist, his fangs practically scraping his bottom lip. “I am not standing, I am currently pinned to a mattress by a human who weighs a fraction of what I do,” he gasped out, his usual elegant diction disappearing. He glared up at you, though his dark, dilated eyes betrayed how heavily he was affected. “And for the record, this silk shirt was imported from Milan. You are wrinkling it. Horribly.”
“Good! I hope it rips!” You reached down, deliberately tugging at his collar, popping a button that skittered across the hardwood floor. Your sensitive nipples brushed against his solid chest through your shirt, and you let out a frustrated whimpering sound. “Miss your meeting. Let the elders talk to an empty chair. Tell them you were detained by a biological emergency.”
“A biological emergency,” he repeated, a breathless, incredulous laugh escaping him. He tilted his head back against the mattress, looking at you through hooded eyelids. The coldness of his skin was mixed with the roaring heat of yours, creating a scent that was pure sin. “You are completely unhinged when you’re fertile, do you know that? It’s like your self-preservation instincts completely dissolve.”
“They didn’t dissolve, they just pivoted,” you panted, leaning down until your lips were a mere millimeter from his fangs. “My instincts want you. Now are you going to keep lecturing me on silk from Milan, or are you going to do your job?” Yeosang’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked violently near his ear, but he still hesitated, his hands tightening on your hips as he fought the final embers of his restraint. Seeing his hesitation, you let out a sharp, mocking scoff right against his lips. “Unbelievable,” you snapped, your tone dripping with frustrated rudeness. “What’s the matter, Kang? Are you scared? Centuries of being a vampire and you’re getting cold feet because a human girl wants you? Wow. Some predator you are. All talk. Actually, don’t bother. Maybe I should just find a vampire who actually knows what to do with a willing human.”
Yeosang’s entire body went dead silent beneath you. Before you could even blink, the world blurred. Your hands were violently ripped from his collar as he gripped your wrists, his fingers like cuffs. In a single second, the positions reversed. The mattress dipped as he flipped you onto your back, pinning your hands flat against the sheets above your head. He came down over you, his large frame completely trapping your tensed, aching thighs beneath his. “What did you just say?” his voice dropped into a terrifyingly low, lethal register.
“You heard me,” you snapped, your attitude completely taking over. “Get off me. You’re boring. Go to your little business meeting and leave me alone since you clearly can’t handle—”
You didn’t even get to finish the insult. Yeosang’s grip on your wrists tightened so violently the bones in your hands practically creaked, cutting off your words as he slammed your arms even harder into the mattress.
That was it. The absolute limit.
“You think I’m boring?” he leaned down, his face stopping barely an inch from yours, cold breath fanning over your flushed skin. “You think you can just go out and find another vampire to shove his cock inside you? You think anyone else is allowed to touch this filthy, desperate little pussy of yours?”
“Yeo—”
“Enough.”
Yeosang hovered inches above you, his chest heavy with anger. His hair fell wildly around his face, and his eyes were entirely black, the irises swallowed by his pupils. The sharp points of his fangs were fully bared, pressing down over his bottom lip. There was no more elegance left in him; he looked terrifying, and deeply offended. “You’ve gotten incredibly bold. You think because I indulge your little human whims that I’ve forgotten what I am?” His grip on your wrists tightened just enough to remind you exactly who held the power in this room. “Let me show you exactly what I can do,” he hissed against your skin, his lips moving down to press hard, bruising kisses against the frantic pulse point of your neck. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember what day of the week it is, let alone your own name. You want a predator? You’ve got one.”
“Yeosang—” you choked out, the mockery instantly evaporating from your tongue.
“Don’t speak,” he commanded, the velvet edge of his voice clipping your words right out of the air. He didn’t just kiss your neck; he marked it. His lips were firm, dragging a trail of heavy kisses from the soft skin beneath your ear down to the sensitive dip of your collarbone. Every time his fangs lightly grazed you, a violent, desperate shiver racked your entire frame. Your nipples, already tight and aching against the cotton of your oversized shirt, practically throbbed with the friction. Your thighs, still trapped beneath the rigid weight of his slacks, tensed instinctively. You tried to arch up, tried to grind the heavy, empty ache in your lower stomach against his lap to find some semblance of relief, but Yeosang shifted his weight, completely shutting down your movement. “Hold still. You wanted the predator, remember? A predator dictates the pace. You don’t get to move until I tell you to.”
Your cheeks were burning as you swallowed hard, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips. “You’re... you’re still wearing your shirt,” you pointed out trying to regain a microscopic shred of your previous bravado. “Hard to be a beast when you’re buttoned up.”
Yeosang slowly released one of your wrists, though the implicit warning in his gaze kept your hand frozen on the sheet. His fingers moved down to his own collar. With a single, sharp jerk, he didn’t just unbutton the shirt—he ripped it open. The remaining buttons tore from the black silk, scattering across the bed with a series of soft, chaotic thuds, exposing the flawless, pale skin of his hard chest. “Is that better, darling?” he leaned back down, grabbed your free hand, and guided it up until your fingers touched his hard muscles. “Now, tell me exactly where you hid my ring, or I’m going to make you beg for it.”
You stared up at him, your vision completely hazy as the cool expanse of his bare chest pressed flat against your burning skin. The contrast was too good. With your hand resting against his abdominal muscles, you didn’t want to play games anymore. The hidden daylight ring felt like a stupid, distant memory compared to the reality of him pinned over you with his shirt torn open. “It’s under the mattress,” you gasped out, completely abandoning the secret. “On your side. Under the corner. Just take it.”
A triumphant, devastating smirk cut across Yeosang’s sharp face. “Good girl.” He didn’t move to get it. He didn’t care about the ring anymore, and you both knew it. Instead, his hand slid down from your wrist, his veins-prominent fingers tangling firmly into the hem of your oversized t-shirt. With one tug, he bunched the fabric up, dragging it over your ribs and tossing it blindly off the bed. A second later, Yeosang came back down over you. Your thighs tensed, instantly flaring wide to welcome his weight as he slid perfectly between your knees. “You’re shaking,” Yeosang murmured against your lips. His fingers moved to your jaw, his grip firm, forcing you to look directly into his pitch-black eyes. “Still thinking you want someone else?”
“Shut up,” you breathed, your fingers digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders, your hips instinctively arching up to grind against him. “Please, Yeosang, just shut up and—”
“And what?” he interrupted, his thumb pressing firmly against your bottom lip, dragging it down to expose your teeth. “You’re incredibly lucky I’m in a hurry. If I didn’t have the high-ups waiting on me, I would spend the entire day teaching you how to speak to me properly.”
You let out a frustrated, needy whine, your hips jerking up against his again. “Then stop talking and do it.”
“Oh, I am,” he purred, “but since we’re on a schedule, I’ll just have to make this efficient. And incredibly loud.” He leaned down, his lips crushing against yours in a kiss that was pure dominance. It wasn’t the gentle, romantic kissing you were used to; this was deep, and possessive. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting the frantic heat of your breath, while his large hands slid down to grip your hips, lifting you slightly off the mattress, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. Yeosang didn’t bother sliding them down. With a single, effortless twitch of his wrist, the supernatural strength of his grip flexed, and the delicate fabric tore down the seams. Before the shredded scraps of lace could even drift to the floor, Yeosang’s hand cupped your inner thigh, fingers digging in just enough to force your legs wider. He didn’t touch your wetness yet, intentionally leaving you empty, hovering right on the edge. “Look at you,” he murmured, his dark eyes staring down at where your thighs were trembling violently against his slacks. “So loud and mouthy a second ago, and now your cunt is wet, begging for me. Where did all that attitude go, darling? Did it rip along with your underwear?”
“Yeosang, please,” you whined, your previous cockiness completely evaporating as you clawed at the hard muscles of his shoulders, your hips instinctively arching up, trying to force yourself against his hand.
“Uh-uh. No moving,” he commanded, using his weight to press your hips flat into the mattress, completely immobilizing you. “You wanted to act like a brat and insult me, so now you get to lay there and wait. Every time you buck your hips without my permission, I’m adding five minutes to how long I make you wait.”
You bit your lip, a frustrated, tearful sob catching in your throat. Your core was slick, aching, and completely empty, throbbing so much that it felt like actual torture. “You said you were in a hurry,” you choked out, trying to use his own words against him.
Yeosang leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your burning ear. “I am in a hurry,” he whispered maliciously, fingers slowly tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, too close to your heat yet never touching it. “But I will gladly be late to the most important meeting of the year if it means teaching you some manners. Now... are you going to behave, or do I need to keep your hands pinned above your head the entire time?”
You bit your bottom lip so hard you could taste the faint, metallic tang of your own blood. Being so close to him, so utterly exposed and yet completely denied, was driving you absolutely insane. Your inner thighs tensed, trembling under his fingers. “I’ll behave,” you choked out, the words a total surrender. “I’ll behave, just... please.”
Yeosang’s eyes tracked the frantic rise and fall of your chest. The flush on your cheeks was beautiful crimson, and the scent of your arousal was filling the room, entirely overpowering the expensive cologne on his skin. “Good girl,” the praise was dripping with authority that offered no real gentleness. He slowly released his iron grip on your wrists, but you didn’t dare move them from above your head. You knew better. His fingers slid up the inside of your thigh, finally—finally—brushing against your slick, burning folds. A high moan escaped your throat as his fingers slid through your wetness. The sudden friction was intense, making your lower stomach cramp with pleasure. You instinctively tried to lift your hips into his hand, but Yeosang immediately growled, pressing his palm hard against your lower belly to lock you flat against the sheets. “What did I say about moving?” he hissed against your lips, his fangs grazing your skin just enough to send a thrilling spike through your veins. “Do you want me to tie your hands to the headboard?”
“No,” you whimpered, your fingers blindly clutching at the silk sheets above your head, your toes curling as he began a slow, deep rhythm with two of his fingers. He was soaking himself in you, coating his pale fingers in your heat.
“Look at how wet you are for me,” Yeosang’s voice dropped into that deep, ruined register that made you feel dizzy. “Completely ruined before I’ve even touched you. You’re lucky you smell so sweet, or I’d leave you like this all day.” He pulled his fingers out with a wet, squelching sound that made your face burn a furious red. Before you could even register the loss, Yeosang shifted his weight. His hands flew to the zipper of his slacks, freeing his heavy length. He came down over you fully, and positioned his blunt tip right at your entrance, pressing against your slick folds, threatening to tear right through whatever sanity you had left. “Open your eyes,” he commanded, his hand gripping your jaw firmly, tilting your face up. “Watch a boring vampire take you.”
You swallowed hard, your eyes completely unfocused as his tip pressed right against your entrance. You could feel him twitching against your slick skin, and the desperate, empty ache between your thighs was screaming for him to just drive himself inside. But the barrier of his clothes was driving you insane. You hated it. You hated that he was still half-dressed, that there was expensive silk of his shirt and wool of his slacks keeping you from touching him properly while you were completely exposed and melting beneath him. Your hands flew to his shoulders, fingers frantically clawing at the sleeves of his black shirt, trying to rip the fabric away from his skin. “Clothes,” you gasped out, your voice breaking as your other hand blindly scrambled downward, clawing at the waistband of his slacks, trying to shove the heavy material down his hips. “Clothes off, Sangie... please. Let me touch you... I want to see you.”
Yeosang let out a low, mocking chuckle, he didn’t help you. Instead, he grabbed both of your wrists in one hand, easily pinning them back down to the mattress above your head, completely rendering your desperate hands useless. “Oh, absolutely not,” a devastating, cruel little smirk curved around his fangs. His dark eyes hooded as he looked down at your flushed, helpless face. “You don’t get to see me, darling. You don’t get the privilege of having me completely bare for you.”
“Why?” you whimpered, a tear of pure, frustrated desperation leaking from the corner of your eye as your hips instinctively twitched against his heavy tip.
“Because you were a rude little whore,” he whispered maliciously, leaning down until his lips were brushing against your ear, making your sensitive skin break out in goosebumps. “So this is your punishment. You get stripped bare, completely exposed, while I stay perfectly put-together. You don’t get to touch me where you want. And you definitely don’t get to call me ‘Sangie’ until you learn some manners.” To prove his point, he shifted his weight, his grip on your jaw tightening just a fraction to keep your eyes locked onto his pitch-black stare. “Now stop crying and open your legs wider for me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please let me touch you—”
“Too late for an apology, darling.” He didn’t give you another second. With a single, brutal tilt of his hips, Yeosang drove himself straight inside, burying his thick length into you all the way to the hilt. The ruthless entry stretched your slick walls so wide and so suddenly that a scream was ripped right out of your throat. Your back arched off the mattress, your toes curling as pleasure completely took over your body. You were entirely filled, your internal muscles desperately convulsing and clamping around his cock, squeezing his length tightly. But if you thought he was going to hold still and let you adjust, you were completely wrong. Yeosang didn’t pause for a single fraction of a second. The moment he hit your depth, he let out a dark, ragged growl against your mouth and immediately pulled back, only to slam right back into you with punishing force.
“Yeosang—wait—!” you sobbed, your head thrashing against the pillow as the overwhelming friction of his pace began to tear through your sanity.
“I told you, I’m in a hurry,” he growled, the veins along his chest and neck bulged violently. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he leaned down, chest crushing your sensitive breasts, lips pressing a hard, possessive kiss right against your trembling jaw. “Look at how perfectly you take me. You were made for this.” His thrusts were heavy, deep, and punishingly fast, his slacks-clad thighs slapping bruisingly against your bare, trembling legs with every drive. Your head thrashed against the pillow, your vision dissolving into a blur of tears and heat as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers clawed blindly at the sheets trapped beneath the weight of his hand, every single move of his hips was driving deeply into your core. The contrast of his cool, bare torso grinding against your flushed, burning skin was a sensory overload, melting whatever microscopic shred of coherent thought you had left into a puddle of pure desperation.
Yeosang looked down at you through a curtain of blonde hair, the corners of his lips were pulled back, bared fangs gleaming with venom as he watched your lips part in a string of breathless, incoherent whimpers. “Look at me.” He didn’t wait for you to comply. He released his grip on your wrists, only to slide his hand down to grab your jaw, his fingers digging into your skin to force your head back against the pillow. His other hand flew to your knee, hooking behind it and shoving your leg up, pinning it high against his ribcage to angle your pelvis perfectly for his next, devastatingly deep thrust.
“Y-Yeosang—I can’t—” you cried out, a loud, wet sob escaping your throat as he hammered into you, hitting a sensitive nerve, sending a violent, electric shockwave straight to your lower stomach.
“You can,” he hissed, his thumb pressing into your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his dark gaze. “You’re going to take every single inch of me. This is exactly what you begged for. Tell me how it feels to be handled by a vampire who doesn’t know what to do with a willing human.” The mocking, arrogant edge in his tone was the ultimate blow. You let out a broken, high-pitched moan as a sudden, intense wave of heat bloomed at the base of your spine, pressure building too fast, the friction of his pace driving you straight toward a violent climax that you couldn’t control. “Fuck—I’m going to—” you gasped, your eyes rolling back as your thighs began to shake uncontrollably against his sides.
“Not yet,” his grip on your jaw tightened just enough to pull you back from the edge. He intentionally altered his rhythm, pulling almost entirely out of your slick, swollen cunt before driving back in with a grinding slow-motion depth. “You don’t get to come until I tell you to. Hold it in.” The cruelty of the denial made tears pour freely down your flushed cheeks. He could hear the frantic, erratic stutter of your heart beating, and the power of having you completely at his mercy, totally undone by his touch, made his cock twitch. He leaned down, lips slamming back over yours in a kiss that was punishing, and utterly possessive. His tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim your desperate cries while his hips resumed that frantic, brutal pace. The slacks covering his legs chafed against your bare, sensitive inner thighs with every thrust, reminding you of what you couldn’t see, or touch. You were drowning in him, totally consumed by the strength of a vampire who had abandoned his restraint just to break your attitude. The bedroom was filled with the wet sound of his thrusts, that echoed in your ears as he relentlessly drove you closer to the peak. You were entirely at his mercy, trapped beneath his marble-cool skin, as he ruthlessly claimed every single inch of your slick, swollen heat.
Yeosang’s fangs were grazing the skin of your neck with a menacing pressure that made you whimper. He could feel the tight, erratic fluttering of your internal muscles, the desperate way your walls were spasming around him, begging for the release he was so cruelly withholding. “You’re right on the edge, aren’t you?” He suddenly slowed his pace, barely shifting inside you, keeping his thick length buried deep but entirely denying you the friction you were dying for. “So desperate,” he whispered maliciously, his pitch-black eyes drinking in your tears. “Did you learn your lesson? Tell me you’re sorry for being such a rude whore earlier.”
You sobbed, your hands blindly reaching up to grip his bicep through the fabric of the shirt, your hips instinctively twitching in a useless, frantic attempt to force him to move. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry, Sangie. Please.”
He liked the apology, but he wasn’t done playing with your obedience just yet. He reached down between your bodies, his hand sliding over your stomach to rub your swollen clit in a tight circle while his hips remained completely still inside you. The sudden friction was so intense it felt like an electric shock. He didn’t even need to thrust anymore; the rhythm of his thumb against your slick skin was a total overload to your nervous system. “Wet, desperate, and completely open for me. Is this what you want? Do you want me to put a baby in you?”
“Yes—yes!” you sobbed out, your hips trying to buck against his stillness. “Knock me up, Yeosang... please. Put it inside me. Please, just fill me up!”
Hearing you beg for something his dead body couldn’t technically give you—yet wanting it so desperately anyway—completely shattered his remaining control. “Let it go,” Yeosang commanded, his dark eyes boring into yours, watching the exact moment your sanity shattered. “Come for me, darling.” That was the final straw. You let out a broken, wet sob as your orgasm ripped through your entire body. Your internal muscles locked down around his buried length in a grip that went on and on, shaking with the force of your own release.
The intense squeezing of your climax was the final straw for Yeosang. Moving his hand from your heat to grip your hip, he slammed into you with a frantic, punishing speed, pushing himself as deeply inside you as possible. “F-fuck... breeding you... right to the hilt...” At the exact same microsecond, the blinding rush of his orgasm sent his instincts into a total frenzy. He lunged downward, his mouth slamming against the side of your neck.
Crack.
A sharp spike of pain flashed through you as his fangs pierced clean through the soft skin of your pulse point, immediately followed by a wave of euphoria as his venom flooded your veins. You let out a loud, strangled shriek against his shoulder, your fingers clawing uselessly into the fabric of his shirt as his throat began to work. He was drinking you down, a greedy gulping sound right against your ear, pulling your hot blood into his body. Inside you, the burning volume of his release was filling you to the absolute hilt. Yeosang was completely emptying himself into you, his hips twitching while his mouth ruthlessly drained you. “Good girl... squeeze me like that... take every fucking drop...” Yeosang growled against your bloody skin, the words ruined as he muddled his release with his feeding.
The combination of the blood loss and the intense heat filling your core was too much for your human body to process. Your vision dissolved into a beautiful, hazy blur of stars. You were completely at his mercy—being filled at one end while being drained at the other, completely claimed by him. He took three more heavy gulps of your blood before his fangs slowly slid out of your flesh. Yeosang collapsed fully against you, his heavy frame completely pinning you into the mattress. He stayed buried deep inside you, keeping you completely filled, his blonde hair damp and tangled against your neck.
The air was heavy and thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and blood. You laid completely spent, your limbs heavy and useless, your mind floating in a total, blissful, blood-loose blank. Yeosang let out a long, breathless sigh against your shoulder, his grip on your hip relaxing into a soft caress. He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear from your cheek. His pupils were still wide, but a soft, amused, and completely satisfied smirk returned to his blood-stained lips. “Well,” he murmured, voice still incredibly deep, though a hint of his signature elegance had returned. He glanced toward the clock on the nightstand, then back down at your flushed, dazed face. “I suppose the meeting can wait another twenty minutes. But I am definitely going to need that ring now, my love.”
WARNINGS: (NSFW / 18+), Rough sex and power dynamics, Explicit dirty talk and soft degradation, Light choking, Explicit oral sex and face-fucking, Themes of possessiveness and jealousy, Unprotected sex.
SUMMARY: It’s easy to get lost in the noise of the practice room and the usual banter. Everyone thinks they know exactly who Kang Yeosang is, and you thought you had him figured out too. But some invisible lines are better left uncrossed. It only takes one casual comment to realize that silence doesn’t always mean shyness… sometimes, it’s just a warning.
Only for adults (18+). If any of this is offensive to you or if you're under 18, please don't view it! All based on fictional events, none of this is real.
In the bathroom, the adrenaline was still running wild.
You looked at yourself in the mirror: swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and a reddish tint on your neck that you didn’t remember having before stepping into the backroom. You could still feel the tingling in your thighs, on the skin where his hands had gripped you, on your mouth where his kiss was still burning.
You turned on the tap and splashed some water on your wrists and the back of your neck, trying to bring your body down a gear.
You pulled out your phone, your fingers still trembling slightly.
Come to the bathroom NOW. Urgent.
Not even two minutes went by.
The door opened and Jessie poked her head in. Spotting you, she walked all the way in and shut the door behind her.
She scanned you from head to toe. First your slightly disheveled clothes, then your hair, then your face, then your neck.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, holding back a laugh.
“Holy shit…” she whispered, already giggling, unable to contain herself. “Looks like things got intense, huh?”
“Don't start,” you muttered, though a smile was slipping past your lips too.
You grabbed a paper towel, dried your hands, and tried to fix your top and pull your skirt down a bit. Jessie leaned against the sink, arms crossed, absolutely loving the show.
“Tell me everything,” she demanded. “And this time, don't skimp on the details.”
You weren’t exactly shy around her. You never had been. And with the adrenaline rush still pumping through your veins, the words spilled out almost on their own.
“It was…” You paused to catch your breath. “He told me to come to the backroom. We talked for a bit, then he got all 'I don't like to share,' and the next thing I knew... he threw himself at me.”
Jessie let out an incredulous laugh.
“God, straight to the point.”
“He kissed me like he wanted to rip my soul out,” you continued. “He sat me on a table, gripped my thighs, he was…” You bit your lip, the memory washing over you. “If his phone hadn't rung, something more would have definitely happened right then and there. Guaranteed.”
Jessie’s eyes went wide—zero judgment, one hundred percent thrilled.
“Damn…” She ran a hand through her blue hair. “I knew he had that side to him, but seeing it play out like this... Holy cow.”
You leaned against the sink, looking at her.
“He left me so unsatisfied…” you admitted, frustrated. “I just wanted to keep going. I couldn't even think.”
She nodded with the kind of understanding only experience can bring.
“That's completely normal.” She stepped closer. “When you get cut off halfway, your body is wired, your mind is racing. It's like... slamming on the brakes at full speed.”
“I don't know what to do now,” you confessed. “Or what this even means. All I know is, if he told me 'let's go to your place' right now... I don't think I'd be able to say no.”
Jessie rested her hip against the edge of the sink.
“You could always invite him over yourself,” she suggested bluntly. “Tonight. 'Want to come back to my apartment?' Easy as that.”
You shook your head almost instantly.
“I don't want to seem needy. Or easy. Or…” You searched for the right word. “Desperate.”
She shrugged.
“I get that.” She pondered it for a second. “And honestly, maybe it's a good idea not to skip steps all at once. You guys are getting to know each other in this new dynamic, and sometimes a little restraint actually builds up the tension.”
She looked at you, her expression turning serious.
“But don't beat yourself up either,” she added. “If the moment comes—whether it's tonight or a month from now—where you feel like it and you want to... you're not 'needy.' You're an adult making a choice.”
You nodded slowly.
“Right now…” you whispered, “I can't even think straight. I just have these flashes in my head. His hands. The table. Him…”
Jessie smiled, half teasing, half tender.
“Then, for today, just breathe.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Fix yourself up a bit, head back out there, act semi-normal. And let him make the next move. It shouldn't all be on you.”
You took a deep breath.
“Okay.”
“And, by the way,” she added, lowering her voice mischievously, “don't forget to make him squirm a little. He saw you dressed like this today, he knows what he's missing. Let him work for it.”
You laughed, feeling your body finally start to wind down.
You finished adjusting your clothes and patted your face to tone down the worst of the blush. Jessie did the same in the mirror, and the two of you walked out of the bathroom together, looking as if you'd only gone in to gossip over something on your phone.
On the inside, you were on fire.
But on the outside, you were putting yourself back together.
When you got back to the table, the bar looked exactly the same.
The music was still playing. Mingi and Wooyoung were bickering over some stupid thing. Yunho was laughing at something on his phone. Hongjoong was talking quietly to someone from the staff.
And Yeosang...
He returned to the table a couple of minutes after you, accompanied by the person you assumed had been calling him earlier.
He walked over from the back of the bar with his usual calm. His hair was a bit messier than before, his shirt slightly wrinkled at the chest. If you hadn't known any better, you would have just blamed it on the heat and the crowd.
As he brushed past you to sit down, his hand grazed your waist.
It wasn't a clumsy bump. It was a precise, fleeting gesture, as if he were checking to make sure you were still there. His fingers barely pressed against the fabric of your top, a touch that lasted less than a second.
Only you and Jessie—who had her radar on high alert—noticed.
She shot you a quick look, raising an eyebrow.
Your stomach did a flip.
He sat back down in his spot, picked up his drink, said something to San, listened, and replied. To anyone looking, he seemed completely normal.
You forced yourself to take a sip of your drink, to laugh at one of Mingi's comments, to join the conversation. Your body was still reacting to everything: the phantom touch of his hands, the memory of the kiss, the weight of his gaze that, every now and then, locked onto you from across the table.
At one point, when someone cracked an especially ridiculous joke and you threw your head back laughing, you felt something. You looked over.
Yeosang was watching you.
He wasn't smiling.
He had that intense, focused look of his, as if he were studying something only he could see. His eyes swept over your expression, your neck, the curve of your smile. When he realized you were looking back, the corner of his mouth twitched into something resembling a half-smile... and then he looked back down at his drink.
He had put his public mask back on.
But you had already seen what was underneath. And that made every little moment of restraint on his part feel even more charged.
Over the next few days, the tension didn't fade. It just shifted.
He stuck to his usual pattern: brief glances, measured comments, "accidental" brushes. But for the first time, you started playing back.
When he walked a little too close in the practice room, you didn't step away as much. If he rested his hand on the back of your chair to talk to you from behind, you turned around slowly, forcing him to close the distance.
If he muttered a low comment like:
"You're not helping at all today."
you'd fire back with something like:
"You're not the only one who can tease."
And in his eyes, that familiar spark would light right up.
The game wasn't just his anymore. You were both in on it.
A few days later, San decided it was time to step in again.
You got a text from him one evening, just as it was starting to get dark.
Are you free tonight?
Depends. Why?
Can you come to the practice room around 9:00 PM?
At 9:00? Aren't you supposed to be at home, dead on the couch?
I got into it with the guys. I'm going to be practicing late. Hongjoong chewed me out, I need to focus.
I want to talk to you there afterward. Please.
Your stomach tightened.
Did you fight with them?
Nothing too serious, I'm just in my head. Come over, okay?
Okay. I'll be there at 9.
You didn't overthink it.
San being in his head was a constant in your life. If he said he wanted to see you after practice, you went.
What you didn’t know was that, while you were getting changed to head over to the company, he was pulling the exact same move on someone else.
Yeosang, however, didn’t reply to his text quite as fast. So San opted for the most effective route: calling him.
“What’s up?” Yeosang answered, his voice sounding tired.
San cleared his throat, putting on his best guilt-trip voice.
“Hyung…” he started. “Are you busy tonight?”
“Depends,” Yeosang replied. “What do you want?”
“I can’t get these new steps down,” San blurted out, dripping with drama. “Hongjoong told me I need to focus, that I’m off my game, and… I don’t want to give him another reason to chew me out.”
There was a silence on the other end.
“And what does that have to do with me?” Yeosang asked, though his tone sounded more curious than annoyed.
“I need you to help me,” San said quickly. “In the main practice room. Around 9:00 PM. Just for a bit, I swear.”
Yeosang sighed.
“San…”
“Please,” San pushed, keeping the pressure on. “Just for a little while. I’ll buy you whatever you want for dinner afterward. It’s just so I make sure I don’t mess up during the next rehearsal.”
Another silence.
“Fine,” Yeosang finally gave in. “I’ll stop by at 9:00.”
“You’re the best,” San replied, victorious.
He hung up with a grin so wide that Yunho, who was walking past behind him, shot him a suspicious look.
“What are you up to?” he asked.
“Nothing…” San sang.
Night arrived.
You showed up at the company building in a comfortable, oversized t-shirt and simple pants, ready to listen to San vent and, if necessary, watch a choreography at ten at night.
You took the elevator up, the hallway feeling familiar as you walked through. You reached the main practice room and pushed the door open.
Inside, there was only one figure.
Yeosang was standing in the middle of the hardwood floor in his practice clothes: a dark sleeveless shirt, a discarded hoodie tossed in a corner of the room, loose sweatpants, his hair slightly damp from practicing. He was holding his phone to his ear.
"Where are you?" he was saying. "You said 9:00—"
He turned toward the door as he heard it open.
His eyes met yours. The question cut off halfway.
He hung up slowly, without breaking eye contact.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, with his usual mix of calm and alertness.
You closed the door behind you.
"San texted me," you explained. "He said you guys had a fight, that you were going to be practicing late, and that he wanted me to come talk to him."
Yeosang's expression shifted ever so slightly. You could have sworn you saw the exact moment the pieces clicked in his head.
"I see..." he murmured, looking down briefly. "He told me Hongjoong chewed him out and that he needed help with some steps."
The two of you stared at each other in silence for a second.
The conclusion was obvious.
"It’s a setup," you said.
"Obviously," he confirmed.
The atmosphere in the room shifted. The echo, the mirrored walls, the loneliness of such a massive space… everything felt thicker.
Yeosang walked toward you, slowly.
"Are you worried that he made all this up?" he asked, without a hint of rush.
"I was worried before I got here," you admitted. "Now I'm less worried."
He stopped just a couple of steps away from you. The mirror reflected the scene: you standing near the door, him right in front of you, the empty room behind.
"He shouldn't be playing matchmaker," he remarked with a half-smile. "But it worked."
"That's what I'll tell him if I survive this," you shot back, feeling your pulse quicken.
You were about to say something else when voices echoed from the hallway. Footsteps. Distant laughter. The sound of someone testing music in another room.
The handle of the outer door clicked in the main hallway. Someone was coming.
Yeosang didn't hesitate.
He reached out, quickly scooped up his things from the floor, and grabbed your forearm—not roughly, but firmly—pulling you toward the other side door of the room, the one that led to an inner hallway connecting to the service elevators.
You opened the door halfway. He nudged you with his body just enough for you to slip through first, closing it just as someone pushed open the door to the main practice room.
You suddenly found yourself in another hallway, narrower, quieter. The elevator was at the end. White neon light, polished floors, muffled echoes.
"Where are we going?" you asked, your heart still racing.
He didn't answer immediately.
You reached the elevator. He pressed the button. The doors opened with a soft ding. You both stepped inside.
The cramped space made his presence hit you full force.
Before you could repeat the question, he turned. One hand went straight to your waist, pulling you toward the elevator wall. Your back collided softly with the cold metal. His body filled the little space left in front of you.
His eyes locked onto yours.
"Somewhere more private," he finally answered, close, his voice deep.
He didn't wait for you to answer.
He leaned in and kissed you.
This time, there were no preliminaries or words beforehand. It was the direct continuation of the backroom, compressed into a few seconds in an elevator.
Your hands found his sleeveless shirt. You could feel the warmth of his skin on his shoulders, the firmness of his arms beneath your fingers. The kiss was intense, deep, with a tinge of impatience that left you breathless.
The tension that someone might call the elevator at any moment made it all feel even more electric. Every second together inside felt like stolen time.
The elevator stopped. The doors opened on another floor: an empty hallway, dim lights, the private studio zone.
Yeosang pulled his lips away from yours just barely, breathing heavily, not letting go of your waist.
He guided you out of the elevator, holding onto you as if he didn't trust your legs to hold you up. He stopped in front of a specific door, took an electronic key from his pocket, and swiped it against the reader. A beep, a click. He opened it.
"It’s my studio," he explained, as if it were an irrelevant fact. "No one comes in here without notice."
As soon as you crossed the threshold, he closed the door behind you.
The room was smaller than the practice hall, but enough: a low sofa against the wall, a desk with a computer, speakers, a small table, shelves with his things, a large mirror on one side.
He didn't give you much time to examine it all.
His hand returned to your waist, pulling you toward him, slamming the distance shut. Your body collided with his chest, the beat of his heart against your cheek.
"I haven't stopped thinking about you since that night," he said, point-blank, lowering his head to speak close to your ear. "And about what could have happened if I hadn't been interrupted."
You swallowed hard.
Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of his heart beneath the fabric.
"What...?" you heard yourself ask, with a shaky audacity. "What could have happened?"
He let out a small, low laugh. Not mocking. Disbelieving.
"Don't play innocent," he murmured. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."
He raised a hand to your jaw, tilting your face upward.
"If you keep provoking me..." he added, very close, his eyes dark, "you’re going to get burned."
You could have backed away. You could have made a joke. But there was something inside you, ignited since the backroom, since even before, that pushed you forward.
"Then burn me," you whispered.
His expression hardened just a fraction, as if those words had crossed an internal line he’d spent way too long drawing.
The next thing you knew, his mouth was on yours again, the kiss exploding with all the heat he’d been holding back.
His hands traveled down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, making sure you felt the contact. He spun you around effortlessly, pinning you against the studio wall. The cold metal of the large mirror pressed against your back, his body serving as a heavy weight in front of yours.
It was obvious in his every move that he’d spent days—weeks—imagining this. He was urgent yet completely in control. He knew exactly where to touch, how hard to squeeze, how much pressure to put on your waist, your back, the base of your neck.
His lips trailed down your jaw, then your neck, right to the spot he knew made your knees shake. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, his fingers tracing lines along your side, playing with the hem of your shirt, slipping up just slightly.
Every single touch deliberately teased the limit.
Just enough to set you on fire.
Not enough to cross the point of no return.
And trapped in his hands, you were starting to lose track of where your boundaries ended and his began.
You could feel his hard cock pressing clearly against your pelvis every time he shifted, every time he pinned you a little tighter against the wall, every time your hips reacted on instinct, seeking friction.
His hand slid down your side, over your thigh, brushing past the fabric of your pants, squeezing slightly before heading back up.
When he pulled away from your lips for a second to look at you, your breath was completely ragged, your pupils dilated, your mouth parted.
“You’re really playing with fire…” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.
And knowing you were just a breath away from crossing that line, you felt a rush of both desire and vertigo.
Yeosang didn’t give you time to answer. His hand traveled down your side with deliberate slowness, tracing the curve of your waist until it slipped beneath the waistband of your pants. His long fingers slid over the thin fabric of your panties, and, without rushing, slipped inside. The first touch of his fingertips against your soaking wet heat wrung a strangled gasp from you.
“Fuck…” he murmured against your mouth, his voice deeper than usual. “You’re dripping. Is all of this for me?”
His fingers moved slowly, spreading your wetness, stroking your swollen clit with a light pressure that made you shiver. You could only open your mouth to whimpering gasps, almost voiceless, the sound dying against his neck as you tried to keep your balance.
“Look at you… so wet my fingers are sliding,” he continued, teasing you with that low, controlled voice that contrasted so sharply with the urgency of his hard-on pressing against your thigh. “You’ve been like this since the backroom, haven’t you? Teasing me nonstop.”
He slid a finger inside slowly, feeling your walls tighten around him instantly. He let out a low grunt of approval.
“So tight… Relax for me. I’m going to be good to you today… at least at first.”
The promise turned you on even more. Your body clenched around his finger, and he added a second one, stretching you gently, curling them right where you needed it most. Your hips moved on their own, chasing more friction, as you whimpered against his shoulder.
“Just like that… good girl,” he whispered, biting your earlobe. “Feel how I open you up.”
When he pulled his fingers out of your pants, they glitined with your juices. He looked you in the eyes as he brought them to his mouth and licked them slowly, tasting you.
“You taste fucking delicious,” he said with a dark smirk. “Sweet and hot. I could eat you all night.”
He pulled you forward with a firm tug, away from the wall, and led you over to the desk. Before lifting you up, he leaned down slightly and dragged your pants and panties down to your ankles in one swift motion. The cool air hit your flushed, burning skin.
“Sit down and open your legs for me,” he ordered hoarsely.
You were dying of embarrassment, your cheeks burning, but the arousal was stronger than any coherent thought. You spread your legs for him, exposing yourself completely on the desk. Yeosang let out a guttural sound of approval and stepped between your thighs.
He leaned over you to kiss you hungrily while his fingers sank back inside you. In this position, he had a much better angle and control. His fingers slid in and out easily, curling, rubbing the exact spot that made you see stars. Every time your moans got louder, he swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing you deep, almost bruisingly hard.
You felt yourself tightening more and more around his fingers, your orgasm fast approaching.
“Come on… come on my fingers,” he growled against your lips. “I want to feel it.”
And you did. Your body tensed violently, squeezing his fingers hard as you came with a muffled groan against his mouth, soaking his fingers and spilling onto the desk.
Yeosang gave you no rest. The moment you started coming down, he knelt between your legs and pressed his mouth directly against your sensitive clit. You were completely overstimulated, but he gripped your thighs firmly.
“You taste heavenly,” he murmured against your skin before licking you with torturous slowness, sucking and sliding his tongue inside you. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling without control, trying not to scream.
He ate you out until your legs wouldn't stop shaking. Then he stood up, stripped his pants and boxers off in one motion, and freed his erection. It was larger than you expected: thick, long, the head glistening with precum. Your stomach did a flip of anticipation and nerves.
He rubbed the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering your juices, lubricating himself with your wetness, brushing against your clit with every stroke.
“Yeosang…” you gasped, your voice broken.
He paused right at your entrance, the tip pressing in.
“I don’t have condoms,” he said, his jaw tight, clearly fighting himself.
You didn’t want to stop either. You looked into his eyes and simply whispered:
“Do it.”
He didn’t think twice. He buried himself inside you in one deep, hard thrust, bottoming out. Both of you groaned at the same time. He filled you completely, stretching you in a way that teetered on the edge of pleasure and pain. He stayed still for a few seconds, breathing heavily against your neck, letting you adjust to him.
“So tight… fuck,” he groaned. “I promise I’ll pull out.”
He started to move slowly, pulling almost all the way out before plunging deep back inside. Every thrust wrung a moan from you.
“You feel incredible… so hot and wet around me.”
At one point he stopped, pulling his shirt over his head in a quick movement. For the first time, you saw his entire chest: sculpted, broad shoulders, defined abs, his skin slightly slick with sweat. Your walls clenched hard around his shaft at the sight.
Yeosang smirked cockily.
“Do you like what you see?” he asked, leaning back over you.
He shoved your shirt and bra up in one go, leaving them bunched up above your breasts. His large hands squeezed them, his thumbs rubbing your hard nipples. He leaned his head down and began to lick, suck, and gently bite them as he picked up the pace.
Suddenly, he lost control. His thrusts became feral, deep and relentless. He was fucking you hard, the sound of skin against skin filling the studio. His hands were everywhere: gripping your hips, pinning your neck, tugging at your hair. His lips bit at your collarbone, your chest, your throat.
He grabbed both of your legs, lifting them up and pinning them wide and back, folding you. In this position, he went so much deeper. You felt every inch of him hitting the exact spot that made you lose your mind.
“Yes… take all of me,” he growled, fucking you with savage force. “You’re so perfect.”
His movements grew more erratic, harder. He kissed you desperately while hammering into you, his fingers slipping back down to rub your clit. The pleasure was overwhelming.
“Yeosang… please…” you moaned, feeling yourself getting close again.
“I want you to come with me inside you,” he demanded, accelerating even more.
Your second orgasm hit you hard, clamping down on him. He only held on for a few more thrusts before pulling out of you with a guttural groan, spilling hot over your stomach as he held you tight.
He collapsed against you, both of you breathing heavily, his forehead resting against yours.
“This is only the beginning,” he whispered against your lips with a dangerous smile.
You kept breathing for a moment before you could even process his words. Your legs were still trembling, your thighs draped around his hips, the cold edge of the desk contrasting sharply with the scorching heat of your body.
You could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. The sweat on his skin, his racing heartbeat in your ear. You closed your eyes for a second, letting the echo of everything that had just happened settle in your nerves.
He stayed like that for a moment longer, as if he needed to make sure you were actually beneath him and not part of some dream.
Then, slowly, he began to sit up.
He didn't pull away abruptly. He lifted himself up a bit, resting one hand on the desk next to your hip and the other on your waist to keep you steady. From that position, he looked down at you.
Your shirt was pushed up almost to your shoulders, exposing your chest, your stomach still marked by him. Your pants and underwear were bunched up somewhere around your mid-thighs. The sight was… a lot. For both of you.
His eyes drifted down for a second, taking in the beautiful mess you’d made of each other. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat once.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice still hoarse.
You nodded, letting out a small, breathless laugh.
“I can't feel anything from the waist down,” you answered with an honesty that coaxed a half-smile out of him. “But yeah. I'm okay.”
Something in his expression relaxed.
“If I gripped you too hard…” he began.
“If you had held back, I would have called you names,” you cut him off without thinking.
That actually wrung a low, brief laugh from him, which melted into a sigh.
He backed away a bit more, just enough to move. With a somewhat clumsy practicality, he tugged his pants down another inch to adjust himself properly, then pulled his boxers and pants back up, settling them over his hips. He ducked his head for a second, focusing on getting himself back together without making it too obvious.
Then he reached for his shirt, which had ended up on the desk chair. He wiped his face and neck with it to dry off some sweat, but instead of putting it on right away, he set it aside.
He turned back to you with a new determination. He grabbed his shirt with one hand and the water bottle with the other.
“Don’t move,” he requested with a softness that contrasted with his earlier intensity.
He poured a little water onto the fabric and walked back over to you.
He cleaned you up gently.
He started with your stomach, dragging the damp cloth in soft strokes, wiping away the white, sticky trace from your skin. Then he moved up to your chest, even more delicate now, not lingering but not being rough either. Every movement was measured, almost methodical, as if he were focused on not hurting you after having pushed so hard.
You watched him from the desk, your chest still bare, your shirt bunched up under your chin. In any other context, you would have felt uncomfortably vulnerable. But there was something in his expression—his still-tense jaw, the slight furrow of concentration in his brow, the unhurried way he passed the cloth—that chased away any shame.
He wasn’t examining you like a trophy. He was taking care of you.
When he was done, he set the dirty shirt aside and, without looking too closely at your chest, placed his hands on the hem of your shirt.
“Arms up,” he instructed practically.
You lifted your arms slightly, and he pulled your shirt and bra back down, covering you again.
Then he leaned down, picking up your underwear and pants from the floor. He pulled them up carefully to your knees, then to your thighs.
“Can you manage?” he asked, giving your ankle a gentle tap.
“I think so,” you said.
You sat up with the help of his hand on your back and waist. Between the two of you, you managed to get your clothes sorted, zipping and buttoning everything back into place. The desk creaked slightly as you slid off the edge.
Once on your feet, you felt a slight wave of dizziness, more from the adrenaline crash than anything else. He noticed and held you for a second, his fingers firm on your hip.
“Easy,” he murmured.
Once you were steady, he bent down to grab his hoodie and pulled it over his head, letting it fall over his shoulders. His messy hair clung slightly to his forehead. Even so, he looked alarmingly good, caught in that middle ground between undone and put back together.
He looked you up and down again, this time more of a check-up than an appraisal.
“Are you really okay?” he asked again.
“Yes,” you repeated, more firmly this time.
You reached out, feeling for the edge of the desk, and then took a couple of steps toward the studio’s large mirror. Your reflection showed someone completely different: slightly tangled hair, makeup a bit smudged at the corners of your eyes, swollen lips, flushed cheeks. And on your neck, a few reddish marks that you weren’t sure would turn into bruises or not.
“Oh my god…” you muttered, half embarrassed, half proud.
Yeosang stepped up behind you, a pace away. His reflection appeared behind yours. In the mirror, his eyes met yours.
“You look good,” he said quietly.
“I’m a total wreck,” you countered.
“Exactly,” he replied, and this time, one corner of his mouth ticked upward.
You turned halfway toward him, leaning against the edge of the desk.
“Do you regret it?” you asked bluntly.
He didn't hesitate to answer.
“No.”
The word fell between you, clear and solid.
“Do you?” he added, throwing the question back at you.
“No.” You exhaled, realizing how true it was. “Not at all.”
He nodded, as if that was exactly what he needed to hear.
Just then, his phone vibrated on the desk. He picked it up and glanced at the screen.
“It’s the group chat,” he said. “San texted saying 'he's actually super busy with Yunho' and can’t make it.”
You rolled your eyes.
“I'm going to kill him,” you muttered.
“You should thank him,” Yeosang replied.
There was a brief silence. He stepped a little closer, closing the distance to half a step. He didn’t pin you against the wall or the furniture this time; he simply stood in front of you, close enough that his fingers could reach your waist again.
“Listen,” he said, dropping his voice a bit. “I don’t want you to think this was just a 'whatever' thing. I’ve wanted… this,” he gestured between the two of you, “for a while. And now that it’s happened, I have no intention of pretending it didn't.”
You held his gaze.
“I don't want to act like nothing happened either,” you confessed.
His hand squeezed your waist slightly, a tiny gesture of relief.
“I don't know how we're going to handle this in front of the others yet,” he admitted. “Or with work, or with everything else we carry. But I do know I don't want this to be the last time I have you like this.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat.
“That can be arranged,” you tried to lighten the mood.
“It can,” he repeated, looking at you with something between a promise and a pleasant threat.
He leaned in slightly, resting his forehead against yours again. He closed his eyes for a second.
“I’m going to take you downstairs,” he added. “I don't want us being seen leaving here together. Not yet.”
“'Not yet'?” you teased.
“Give me time,” he said simply, without drama.
He opened the door for you, checked the hallway, and let you go first. The elevator ride was silent but not awkward. This time, neither of you dared to touch each other. You both knew that one wrong touch would send you right back to the desk or wherever else.
In the lobby, before heading out into the street, you turned back to him.
“Yeosang.”
“Yeah?”
“I don't want…” You searched for the words. “I don't want this to become something that only exists here, hidden away. Or for it to hurt your career. Or for it to eat me alive.”
His eyes softened.
“You're not a whim,” he answered calmly. “You're a choice. And I'm making it intentionally. If at any point you don't want to keep going, just tell me. I don’t plan on forcing you to carry anything you can't handle.”
You nodded.
“Same here.”
There was a brief, almost shy gesture: you leaned in, he did too, and your lips met in a short, controlled kiss—more of a goodbye than a continuation.
“I’ll text you when I get home,” you said.
“Do that,” he replied.
You stepped out into the cool night air.
The cold night air felt good.
You decided to skip the bus and walk instead. You needed to feel the pavement beneath your feet, the smell of the damp city, the distant hum of cars and motorcycles just to convince yourself that what had just happened was real—and not some weird dream in a practice room.
You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets, and once your breathing finally started to even out, you unlocked your phone.
The "Holy Trinity" group chat was blowing up.
San: Okay, I'm sorry, I won't be able to make it after all 😔
San: Yunho dragged me into watching some video and now I'm out of time.
Jessie: Uh-huh. Great excuse, San.
Jessie: And what about her?
San: With Yeosang, I guess 😇
Jessie: What do you mean "I guess," you evil mastermind.
San: If she's not replying, it's because she's busy.
San: The plan worked, Jessie.
Jessie: I'm so proud of us.
Jessie: We're either geniuses or completely reckless, I'm not sure which.
You kept scrolling.
San: If she doesn't reply within an hour, I'm going to start praying.
Jessie: If she doesn't reply within an hour, I'm going to start applauding.
You laughed out loud in the middle of the sidewalk, shaking your head.
You finally typed:
I hate you guys.
Not even ten seconds went by.
San: AAAAAAAA
San: WHAT HAPPENED
Jessie: SPILL THE DEETS
San: ELL ME YOU DIDN'T GET MAD AT HIM OR I'M GOING TO HAVE TO BEAT HIM UP
Jessie: ANSWER ME OR I'M GOING TO PANIC AND BREAK INTO YOUR APARTMENT
The texts started rolling in one after another, as if they’d literally been staring at their screens.
You stopped at a quieter corner, leaning your back against a wall. Instead of typing back, you just tapped Jessie's name.
She picked up on the very first ring.
"Talk to me." No hello, no nothing. Just pure urgency.
A nervous laugh escaped your lips.
"Relax," you said. "I’m still alive."
"But how?" she asked. "Alive as in 'nothing happened' or alive as in 'I can't feel my legs'?"
The silence you left was louder than any words.
Jessie shrieked.
Literally.
An ear-splitting shriek that forced you to pull the phone away from your ear. In the background, you heard Hongjoong's voice, half complaining, half laughing.
"Jessie..." you heard him say. "It's late. The entire building already knows something went down."
"I don't care," she shot back, returning to the phone. "SPILL."
You took a deep breath and started talking as you walked.
You told her that San hadn't shown up, that it was only Yeosang, that you both realized it was a setup, how you had to flee the room because of the voices, the elevator, his studio... And from there on out, you didn't hold back.
Between friends, the details flowed without a filter.
"He had me against the wall," you said, lowering your voice whenever you passed someone. "Then he took me to the desk, and..." You bit your lip, the memory washing over you. "It was... a lot. Like, a lot."
Jessie let out gasps every two sentences.
"I knew it. I KNEW IT," she kept repeating. "That man was never going to play nice forever. Holy cow."
At one point, you heard Hongjoong in the background:
"I'm putting my headphones on. I do not need these details in my life."
And the two of you burst out laughing.
"And now... what are you guys?" Jessie asked suddenly, her voice a bit calmer.
You paused for a second at a red light, staring at the signal.
"Nothing," you admitted. "We didn't put a label on anything. There's just... something. A lot of it. But neither of us is in a rush. And we don’t want anyone to find out about this."
"No one else," she pointed out. "Because San and I already know too much. And Hongjoong does too, unfortunately for me."
"Hongjoong..." you said, a mix of embarrassment and amusement in your voice.
"He's my future husband," she repeated, just like she had that afternoon. "I can't keep secrets like this from him. But he's a vault. He won't breathe a word."
You kept walking.
"I’m scared this will consume me," you confessed after a moment. "That I'll get so hooked that if things go sideways later, it'll completely shatter me."
"That's totally normal," Jessie replied without hesitation. "But it would also be a shame if, out of fear, you robbed yourself of something that’s making you feel this alive right now. I’m not telling you to 'jump without looking.' I’m telling you to 'look, and if you like what you see, enjoy it while you still have ground beneath your feet.'"
You smiled, even though no one could see you.
"I hate you guys," you repeated softly.
"You love us," she corrected. "And if that man ever hurts you, we’ll start a support group to burn his photos. But for now... let him eat you up. In tiny, delicious bites."
Both of you stayed silent for a few seconds, just listening to the ambient noise from the other side of the city.
"I'll call you tomorrow," she finally said. "Once my jealousy wears off."
"Friendly jealousy," you pointed out.
"The friendliest." She yawned. "Go take a shower and get some sleep—or whatever you're actually capable of doing after that. Love you."
"Love you too."
You hung up.
You were already close to your building's entrance when you unlocked your phone again.
You had new notifications.
A private chat. Name: Yeosang.
Did you get home safe?
(20 min ago)
It's been 30 minutes and you hasn't answered.
Are you still nearby or did you walk?
Answer me when you can.
The last message was from just a couple of minutes ago.
You bit back a smile.
Just got in now. I walked back to clear my head a bit.
The reply came faster than you expected.
Okay.
Let me know next time if you're going to take that long.
I thought something had happened to you.
You felt a warmth rising in your chest.
I’m sorry. I didn’t think you'd worry.
I’m fine. Tired, but fine.
There was a brief pause.
Take a shower, eat something if you can, and get some sleep.
Everything is going to hurt a bit tomorrow. Drink some water.
You laughed, resting your forehead against your building's door as you fumbled for your keys.
Are you speaking from experience?
I'm speaking because I can barely feel my arms.
And because I don't want you hating me tomorrow just because you're sore.
I'm not going to hate you.
Goodnight.
He took a little longer this time.
Goodnight.
You put your phone away.
You walked up to your apartment with the strange sensation that your body weighed twice as much while your head was floating.
It wasn't the start of some textbook romance. There were no sudden "we're dating" promises. No labels.
But there were texts.
There was care.
There was an "it's only the beginning" that, far from scaring you, left you restless... and waiting for more.
And that, for now, was enough.
From that point on, things didn’t suddenly become sweet and orderly.
There was no "now that we've had sex, we're a couple and everything just clicks."
There was too much between you two to go that fast: your fear of his world, his need to control everything, the group, San, the industry, and how little actual privacy you had.
But one thing definitely changed:
You started texting more.
Not in some 24/7 teenage way. But with a new kind of consistency.
Short messages during the day.
Late-night voice notes from him, brief, his voice deep and tired, rambling about stupid things he’d seen during practice.
The occasional link to a video of a game, a dance, or some weird animal.
Photos from you of simple things: your morning coffee, the book you were reading, a weirdly shaped cloud.
It wasn't cheesy.
It was... steady. Warm.
In the practice room, things shifted too.
San, now sporting the smug satisfaction of someone whose plan had worked out way too well, kept his comments to a teasing minimum... and would conveniently disappear with Yunho whenever he noticed you and Yeosang lingering near each other.
"Back in ten," he’d say, raising his hands. "Don't kill each other."
He was terrible at playing it cool.
And both of you knew it.
There were days when, between rehearsals, you and Yeosang would just talk while sitting on the floor, backs against the mirror. About normal things. About nothing in particular. Your knees almost touching, his fingers idling with his water bottle cap.
And then there were other days when the tension built up so much that doing nothing was simply not an option.
During an especially long break, when the rest of them had gone to grab coffee from the vending machine in the hallway, you found yourself alone with him in one of the small rooms.
You walked over to the window to look out at the city. He was behind you, leaning against the stretching barre.
“The view is better from over here,” he remarked.
“From the barre?” you asked, turning around.
“From right here.” His gaze made it perfectly clear he wasn't talking about the window.
You leaned back against the windowsill, crossing your arms.
“You’re confident today,” you said.
“You’re wearing those leggings today,” he replied, without missing a beat. “It doesn't help.”
You felt an immediate blush creep up.
“You can’t keep using that excuse,” you tried to laugh it off.
He took a couple of steps closer.
“No,” he admitted. “Sometimes I won’t even bother looking for an excuse.”
And just like that, with no warning, he had you pinned against the mirror again, his body flush against yours, his mouth on yours—a quick, intense kiss stolen between a "ten-minute break" and the next countdown on the timer.
Those kinds of things started happening.
In empty rooms.
In quiet hallways.
In bathrooms under flimsy excuses.
It wasn't always full-on sex. Often, it was just too-long kisses, hands getting too bold, breaths cutting too short.
Small doses.
Just enough to remind you—and him—that the studio hadn't been a one-time thing, but a crossed line that was never going back.
And each time, bit by bit, a side of him that almost no one knew started to show:
The possessive side.
The side that wanted you close, but hidden from everyone else's sight.
The side that saw red when someone touched you without thinking.
The first time you noticed it clearly was during another group dinner.
Mingi, cheerful as always, sat next to you, draping his arm over your shoulders at the first joke and leaning in to show you memes on his phone.
You laughed, but your boundaries were clearer now. When his hand drifted a little too low down your back, you gently took it and placed it back on his knee with a smile.
“I love you, but not that much,” you joked.
He laughed, getting the hint, without taking offense.
What caught you off guard was feeling a hand rest on the back of your chair behind you, fingers subtly brushing your now-bare shoulder.
Yeosang leaned in, seemingly to grab something from the table.
“Pass the salt,” he asked aloud.
You handed it to him.
His hand deliberately brushed yours as he took it. And, meant only for you, so low no one else could hear, he added:
“You're very social today.”
It wasn't an open scolding. But his tone, the quick glance at Mingi, the thumb that lightly dragged across your upper back before pulling away... everything screamed territory.
You turned slightly toward him.
“You should be happy,” you whispered. “That means your plan to get me out of my shell worked.”
His eyes flashed for a second.
“I am,” he replied. “But I don't like other people getting the best angles.”
And those kinds of comments, delivered with the same calm others used to talk about the weather, were what kept you on high alert.
Because yes, it was clear now: behind closed doors, Yeosang was not the quiet, reserved guy everyone else saw.
And bit by bit, you were starting not just to accept it... but to crave that side of him.
Eventually, as always, the dinner wound down.
One by one, they started getting up. Jessie and Hongjoong left together, shooting you a knowing look that said we'll talk later. San left with Yunho, still laughing about something. The rest scattered into taxis, cars, or on foot.
You said goodbye to everyone with hugs, pecks on the cheek, and promises of "see you soon."
Yeosang said goodbye just like everyone else: a light hug, a "get home safe," a small smile. Nothing that would catch anyone's attention.
But as you walked down the street alone, with the night chill biting through your tights and jacket, your phone vibrated in your pocket.
Are you taking a taxi or walking?
You smiled, slowing your pace.
I’m walking for a bit. It clears my head.
It didn't take him long to reply.
…
Do you mind if I stop by your place?
You stopped dead in your tracks in the middle of the sidewalk.
You stared at the message more than once. No frills, no excuses. It didn’t say "to talk" or "to watch a movie." Just that.
¿Now?
Yeah. If you're tired, we can skip it.
You bit your lip, feeling your heart race all over again.
You looked around. The street, the lights, the distant hum of the city. You thought of the restaurant, his glances, his hand on your waist, his voice whispering things that still set you on fire just remembering them.
Come over.
Ok.
I’ll be a bit, I have to dodge the staff.
Don’t open the door for anyone not wearing a mask and a cap.
You went upstairs, turned on a few warm lights, and quickly tidied up the living room: pillows, blankets, a couple of stray glasses. You ran your fingers through your hair in front of the hallway mirror. Your makeup was still mostly intact; looking at yourself in that top and skirt in your own space still gave you a slight rush of vertigo.
The doorbell rang about twenty minutes later.
You looked through the peephole.
A cap, a mask, a hoodie. Him.
You opened the door.
“Hey,” he said, pulling his mask down slightly on the landing so you could see his smile.
“Hey,” you replied.
He stepped inside, automatically taking off his shoes as if he’d been doing it his whole life, and left his cap and mask by the entryway. The shift from seeing him "anonymous" outside to just "him" inside gave you a strange flutter.
“I hope it’s not too late,” he remarked, looking at your kitchen clock.
“I haven't checked the time,” you admitted. “But you're here.”
He leaned against the counter for a second, taking in the space, breathing in the atmosphere. Your place smelled like candles, laundry detergent, and something sweet.
“It suits you,” he said.
“My apartment?” you asked, amused.
“All of it.” His gaze swept over the books, the photos, the throw blanket on the couch. “It’s very you.”
You leaned against the living room doorframe.
“Do you want something to drink? I have water, wine, beer… tea, if you want to pretend to be healthy.”
“Water is fine,” he replied. “If you give me alcohol, I won’t get up tomorrow.”
You poured him a glass, poured one for yourself. The two of you ended up on the couch, with a show playing in the background more for white noise than actual interest.
An episode ended, and neither of you got up to play the next one.
He set his glass down on the coffee table.
He turned slightly, facing you.
“I’ve thought about what this would be like a lot of times,” he said, as if commenting on something practical. “Seeing you somewhere that isn't our world. Seeing you… here.”
His "here" took in your living room, your blanket on the couch, the photos on the shelf, the half-burned candle.
“And?” you asked with a half-smile. “Are you disappointed?”
He shook his head slowly.
“It complicates things for me,” he admitted. “Because now I like this side of you too. And I want to be here more than I should.”
You didn’t know what to say. So you said nothing.
You simply slid a little closer, closing the distance on the couch.
It wasn’t the typical casual approach of friends. It was deliberate. Your knees almost brushing his leg, your hand resting on the cushion between you... inches from his.
He looked down at the tiny gap.
“You’re playing again,” he murmured.
“You started it,” you shot back.
He leaned in.
He kissed you slowly at first, testing the rhythm of the night. His fingers found your waist, pulling you effortlessly, guiding you until you were straddling his lap, kneeling on the couch.
Your body fit over his as if it had been waiting for this exact position.
Your hands rested on his shoulders, then slid up to the back of his neck. The kiss heated up at a pace you already knew: controlled at first, losing layers of calm as it went on.
His hands slid up your back, pausing for a second at the base of your neck, then traveling down to your hips. He gripped you there, firmly holding you in place, guiding the movement, pushing you forward against him in a way that was anything but innocent.
You let out a muffled gasp against his mouth.
He drank it in as if it were the only sound he wanted to hear.
He shifted you a little more, guiding you over his lap. The friction between your center and the hardness you could already feel growing beneath his pants made you lose your footing. Your fingers tightened on his shirt.
His hands gripped your hips tighter, grinding you in a slow, rocking motion that left no doubt about his intentions.
He pulled his mouth barely an inch from yours, just enough to speak, but not enough for you to stop feeling his breath.
“Do you know what I was thinking about the entire dinner?” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly.
“Mmh…” You weren't sure you could form coherent words.
His grip tightened, forcing you to feel the full, hard pressure of him beneath you.
“About how much I’d like Mingi to know…” He lowered his voice even more, his tone deep and dangerous. “…who you belong to.”
Your body reacted before you could think. A strangled moan escaped against his mouth, your hips moving with more force, chasing the friction. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, then slid up to his neck, squeezing lightly.
Yeosang let out a low, dark laugh, completely satisfied.
“You like that…” he murmured against your lips, tightening his grip on your waist, setting a more demanding pace. “You like when I say it like that, don't you? Reminding you that you're mine.”
His hands traveled up your back, caught the hem of your top, and pulled upward. You raised your arms without a second thought. He stripped it off you in one fluid motion and, almost at the same time, unclipped your bra and tossed it aside. Your breasts were fully exposed to him. Yeosang stared hungrily before ducking his head to suck hard on one of your nipples, his hands forcing you to keep grinding against his cock.
He was entirely in charge now. He gripped your hips firmly, literally using your body to rub against his, controlling the rhythm until you completely lost control.
“Move your hips like that…” he ordered in a husky whisper against your ear. “Just for me.”
His fingers dug into your skin.
“Mingi has no idea how I have you right now… whimpering on the couch, soaking my pants like a good girl.”
The friction was unbearable. You could feel his thick, hard cock pressing perfectly against your underwear, rubbing right where you needed it most. Every movement made the fabric wetter.
Yeosang slid his hands up your thighs, pushing your skirt up without asking until it was bunched up around your waist. His eyes darkened at the sight of the stockings and the delicate underwear you had chosen.
“You knew exactly what you were doing when you put these on,” he growled, tracing his fingers along the band of your stockings. “Teasing me all night.”
He lifted you slightly with one hand while using the other to slide your panties to the side. His fingers touched you directly, slipping between your soaking folds. When he suddenly buried two fingers inside you, you groaned loudly—the first truly loud moan in the quiet of your apartment.
“Shh…” He smirked against your neck, but he didn't stop fucking you with his fingers. “I don't want the neighbors knowing what a little whore you are for me.”
He kept fucking you with his fingers mercilessly, forcing you to move against his hand. A moment later, he pulled them out, lifted you up slightly, and used his other hand to free his thick, fully erect cock.
“Get down on it,” he ordered.
You obeyed. With your panties still pushed aside, you sank onto him in one go, feeling him stretch you wide open. Yeosang let out a low grunt and began to fuck you from below without mercy, gripping your hips tightly and thrusting upward.
Every hit was deep and rough. He was using you, lifting you up and sliding you down his cock as if you were his to fuck. Your moans filled the living room.
He kept you on top for a while longer, controlling every movement, until he suddenly gripped you tightly, lifted you, and spun you around. Now your back was to him, sitting between his legs. He pulled you flush against his chest, one hand traveling down between your thighs again while the other wrapped firmly around your throat.
“Still,” he whispered against your neck, biting your earlobe. “Let me do it my way this time.”
He penetrated you from behind again, deep and hard. He fucked you as you bounced on his cock, one hand on your hip setting the pace and the other sliding down to your clit, rubbing it relentlessly. You were completely at his mercy, lost in the pleasure.
Suddenly, he lifted you again as if you weighed nothing and laid you down on the couch. He hovered over you, one knee between your thighs, pinning you under his weight. He gripped your jaw firmly, forcing you to look at him.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
His eyes were dark, almost black with desire.
“Who do you belong to right now?”
“…Yours,” you gasped.
“Louder.”
“Yours, Yeosang.”
He penetrated you in one brutal thrust, stealing your breath away. He began to fuck you with wild, dominant, and possessive force. Every thrust made you lose your mind a little more. He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand while the other played with your clit.
He was fucking you so well you felt like you were dissolving. In the middle of the pleasure, Yeosang slid his thumb into your mouth. You sucked on it without thinking, whimpering around his finger. That seemed to break something inside him.
“Fuck…” he groaned.
His pace became fierce, animalistic. He fucked you so hard the couch was moving. The pleasure was overwhelming. You came violently around his cock, shaking and screaming his name.
Yeosang didn’t stop. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, stretching it out, until he felt himself hitting the limit too. He sat up abruptly, grabbed you by the hair, and pulled you up until your face was level with his cock.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered hoarsely.
You barely parted your lips before he shoved his cock all the way to the back of your throat, face-fucking you like a toy. He held your head steady with one hand as he thrust, groaning softly. After a few deep penetrations, he pulled his cock out of your mouth and gripped your chin firmly.
“Stick your tongue out,” he demanded, stroking himself fast and hard in front of your face.
You obeyed, sticking your tongue out with your mouth open, watching him. Yeosang let out a guttural grunt and came hard: thick, hot ropes of semen splattered over your tongue, your lips, and your breasts.
He kept you there for a few seconds, breathing heavily, admiring how you had taken all of it.
You remained on your knees in front of him, resting one hand on the couch so you wouldn’t lose your balance. You could feel your breath burning in your chest, your tongue still occupied with the salty, thick taste of him, the warm dribble sliding down your lip, your chin, and the sensitive skin of your breasts.
Yeosang held your face in his hand for a second longer, his thumb pressing your lower lip into your mouth, forcing you to lick it all clean.
“Good girl…” he murmured, his voice husky and still strained. “All mine.”
His eyes swept over your face, your open mouth, the traces of him on your skin, with a dangerous mix of pride and possessiveness. There was no shame in his gaze. Only pure satisfaction.
He let you go slowly, as if it were hard for him to stop touching you, and leaned back against the couch, resting his head on the backrest, his eyes closed for a couple of seconds. His shoulders rose and fell quickly, his bare chest glistening slightly with sweat.
Your legs were shaking.
You sat up slowly, wiping the traces of him from your mouth with the back of your hand. You placed one hand on his thigh to steady yourself, and then another on the backrest of the couch. You felt his fingers, almost by reflex, curl around your wrist for a moment at the contact, still humming with post-coital electricity.
You sat next to him, your breasts still bare, your skin flushed and warm. The contrast of your heavy breathing with the silence of the living room—broken only by the TV playing in the background, completely ignored—felt almost absurd.
He opened his eyes.
He looked at you.
His expression softened ever so slightly: the intensity was still there, but something gentler had been woven in.
“Come here,” he said, quieter, calmer.
He pulled you in with an arm around your shoulders, pressing you to his side. You felt the warmth of his bare skin against yours, your cheek resting against his collarbone.
He stayed like that for a moment, still breathing heavily, his hand on your arm, his fingers tracing tiny, unconscious circles.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked, not letting go.
You nodded, feeling a small, disbelieving laugh bubble up from your chest.
“I’m okay,” you answered.
He let out a sigh that you couldn’t quite identify as relief or satisfaction.
“If you were a little too obedient, you can tell me,” he added, trying to lighten the mood with some humor.
“If you had crossed the line, you would have known,” you shot back, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.
That coaxed a real smile out of him—fleeting, but clear.
You realized you were smiling too, almost in spite of yourself.
“What?” he asked, noticing.
You opened your eyes and turned your head to look at him.
“Nothing,” you answered softly. “Just… processing.”
A corner of his mouth curved up.
“Processing that we almost destroyed your couch?” he teased quietly.
You looked down: pillows scattered everywhere, wet spots on the fabric, the blanket bunched up in a knot, your underwear peeking out from one side of the backrest.
“I’ll have to buy new slipcovers,” you muttered, half-serious.
“I’ll buy them for you,” he replied without thinking much. “Next time, we’ll use a different spot.”
The phrase “next time” sent a little flutter through your chest.
“Next time?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.
His fingers paused on your hip for a second. He held your gaze, calm.
“Don’t you want to?” he asked directly.
“I didn’t say that,” you defended quickly.
“Then don’t say it like it’s unlikely,” he replied simply.
You turned a bit more toward him, resting your side against his chest. From there, you could hear his heartbeat better—still fast, but slowing down.
“The thing about Mingi…” you started, not looking at him entirely. “You mean it.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” he confirmed flatly. “It annoys me to see him pulling you around like you’re… free game. Even though I know you set your boundaries. And I like that you do.”
His words mingled with the warmth of his hand on your skin.
“I’m not going to cause a scene,” he added. “Or say anything to make things awkward. But if he knew what I do to you when he’s not looking…” He paused, almost savoring the thought. “…he’d stop acting so foolish.”
You let out a soft laugh, unable to help yourself.
“You sound very sure of yourself,” you commented.
“It’s not just about me,” he said seriously. “It’s about you, too.”
“Me?”
“How you respond to me.” His tone dropped a notch. “How you look at me when I have you like this. How you say no when you mean yes, just to play hard to get.”
You covered your face with your hand, embarrassed.
“How humiliating,” you muttered, though you sounded more amused than anything.
He leaned in close, brushing his lips against your ear.
“It’s not humiliating,” he whispered. “It’s delicious.”
A shiver ran down your spine again, even through your exhaustion.
He stayed there, pressed close, for a few seconds more. Then he leaned back, taking a deep breath, as if trying to pull a blanket of calm over everything that was still simmering underneath.
“How do you feel?” he asked, shifting to a more neutral tone.
“Tired,” you admitted. “But… good.”
“Does anything hurt?” he pressed.
You thought of your neck, your thighs, your lower back.
“In a few places, yeah,” you confessed. “But it’s a good kind of sore.”
He nodded, satisfied.
“You’re going to remember me when you sit down tomorrow,” he said dryly.
“I’m going to remember you tomorrow no matter what I do,” you shot back.
That finally won a genuine, open smile from him—one of the ones he didn’t just show to anyone.
“Good.”
His gaze drifted down to your body for a second.
Your breasts were still bare, the traces of him drying on your skin. Your thighs, still slightly parted from earlier, were trembling beneath the hem of your hitched-up skirt. Your lips were swollen and red.
Something in his eyes hardened again, a spark of lust threatening to light the match all over again… but this time, he held back.
He leaned forward, grabbed the tissue pack from the coffee table, and opened it.
“Stay still,” he requested softly.
He pulled out a couple, wrapped them around his fingers, and began to clean you up gently. First your chin, then your lips—with soft, almost reverent touches—then your neck, moving down to your chest.
It wasn’t an awkward or embarrassed gesture. Nor was it sexual, even though his fingers were tracing bare skin that had been wringing moans out of you just moments ago.
It was… attentive. Practical. Almost tender, in its own way.
When he was done, he tossed the used tissues onto the table, reached for your top where it lay discarded, slid it over your head, and pulled it down calmly, covering you again.
“Get dressed a bit before I get the urge to start all over again,” he murmured.
“Sounds like a threat,” you said with a half-smile.
“It’s a warning,” he corrected, looking you in the eyes.
Once both of you were back in a relatively presentable state—though your slightly wrinkled top and his messy hair would be dead giveaways to any sharp observer—you settled in again.
This time, you were half-lying down, your head resting on his chest, while his arm wrapped around the back of your neck and his other hand rested on your arm.
You didn’t talk much more that night.
Just a stray comment about the show still humming in the background. A couple of silly remarks about San and his evil mastermind schemes. Not much else.
The silence didn’t feel heavy anymore. It felt… full. Full of things you hadn’t put a name to yet, but were very much there.
At some point, you started to drift off.
You noticed it when your breathing slowed, when your muscles finally stopped being tense, when the TV screen became nothing but white noise.
“If you keep doing that, I’m staying,” he whispered, noticing your weight sinking a bit heavier against his chest.
“What a weird threat,” you mumbled, a sleepy half-smile on your face.
“I don't know if it's a threat,” he mused. “I’m starting to like this.”
You didn’t answer.
Sleep finally won.
The last thing you felt was his hand sliding into your hair, a slow, automatic, stroking motion—like someone calming a restless cat.
You had no idea when he decided to leave.
When you opened your eyes, the TV was off, and the room was cast in dim shadows. You were tucked in with the blanket pulled up to your shoulders. There was a folded note on the table.
You sat up slowly, your body still heavy.
You opened it.
I slipped out before dawn.
I didn't want anyone in the building to see me leaving.
Let the couch breathe.
Text me when you wake up.
And drink water.
– Y.
You smiled, all alone in your living room.
Your body was full of visible and invisible marks: a faint bruise on your thigh, a red mark on your neck, soreness in places you didn't even know could ache... and that phrase, playing on a loop:
Who you belong to.
You didn’t know yet if you were ready to tell anyone “I’m his” out loud. But you did know one thing: each time he touched you like that again, it would feel more natural to think that, at least within those four walls, between his hands and your sighs, yes... there was a part of you that belonged only to him.
And the most dangerous part of it all was that, instead of scaring you, you were starting to like that idea.
thank you guys so much for 1k >_< i'll probably do a small event to celebrate but im not sure what to do yet :/ but thank you for appreciating my writing and hyping me up all the time <3
you lean against the brick wall of the clubhouse, the afternoon sun beating down on the motorcycles parked in a line. the boys are scattered around, some nursing beers while others tune up their bikes.
yeosang's motorcycle sits in its usual spot, polished to perfection. nobody touches it, no one even thinks about breathing near it. you know the rules.
but yeosang is taking too long, and you're starting to feel restless.
you glance around, a smirk tugging at your lips as you saunter over, swinging one leg over the seat and settling onto the leather. your hands hover near the handlebars before gripping them lightly, fiddling with the grips.
"damn, i forgot how comfy this thing is," you murmur to yourself, grinning.
the entire lot goes dead silent, tools clattering to the floor as heads turn. they know yeosang's bike is basically sacred and off-limits, and they were waiting for the explosion.
you hear boots crunch on the gravel, and you don't need to look up to know it's yeosang.
he stops right in front of the bike, and you finally meet his eyes. he scans your body, the way your legs part over the seat, skirt riding up slightly.
yeosang steps closer, long fingers sliding over yours, adjusting your grips on the handlebars, pressing your palms into the right spots as his thumbs brush over your knuckles.
"comfy?" he asks, voice low and deep, sending sparks straight between your legs. some prospects let out low whistles, as the two of you remain in your bubble.
your cheeks burn as you nod, biting your lip, "yeah.. it's really comfortable."
a faint smirk falls on his lips as he swings a leg over the bike behind you, his chest pressing to your back and his arms cage you in, gripping the handlebars outside your hands.
"good," he murmurs against your ear, breath warm, "you look good on my bike."
the engine roars to life beneath the two of you, making a gasp fall from your lips as yeosang revs it once. he pulls out of the lot, keeping you tucked tightly against him, the wind making your eyes water.
yeosang pulls around to the back roads, down a dirt path lined with trees, slowing at a small clearing. he kills the engine, hands resting over yours again, stroking your knuckles softly.
"did you think i'd get mad at you?" he asks, chuckling softly.
you turn your head slightly, observing his side profile, "i mean.. you get mad at everyone else.."
"they're not you," he whispers, brushing his lips against your jaw. one hand leaves the handlebars to slide down your side, gripping your hip to pull you back harder against him and you can already feel him hardening through his jeans. "nobody touches her.. but you can ride anything of mine you want."
you shift on the seat, pressing back into him, pulling a groan from his throat as he nips at your neck before he kisses the spot he bit, soothing it with his tongue. his free hand slips under the hem of your skirt, fingers tracing up your inner thigh until they brush the edge of your panties.
your breath hitches as he presses two fingers against your clothed slit, rubbing firm circles in the fabric, making a whimper fall from your lips.
yeosang lifts you effortlessly, turning you around so you're facing him, pulling your legs over his thighs on the stationary bike. his hands grip your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he pulls you against the bulge in his jeans. you grind against him instinctively, the rough denim dragging over your damp panties.
his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sliding in easily, causing you to moan into the kiss. your hands thread through his hair, tugging enough to pull a growl from his chest. he breaks away to trail bites down your throat, sucking marks into your skin so everyone knows you're his.
"been thinking about fucking you since i saw you on her," he admits, voice gravelly as one hand pushes your panties aside, fingers gliding through your slick folds, "so wet already. all from sitting on my bike with me?"
"yes," you breathe, rocking against his hand. yeosang slips two fingers inside you without warning, curling them to hit that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.
he pumps them slowly, thumb circling your clit in teasing little circles. yeosang's other hand works open his belt and jeans, freeing his cock, hard and leaking. you wrap your hand around him, stroking him from base to head, enough to make yeosang hiss and buck into your fist.
"on the bike," he commands, lifting you higher to line himself up with your entrance, the head of cock nudging against it, "ride me right here."
you sink down onto him inch by inch, stretching you open until your ass meets his thighs, groans falling from both your lips.
yeosang's hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise as he grinds against you, "fuck.. so tight.. made for me."
his hand guides you up and down on his cock, and he thrusts up to meet your rhythm. he yanks your top down, mouth latching onto one nipple and sucking hard while the other pinches the other. you arch into him, allowing his cock to slip deeper into you.
"yeosang- oh god, right there-" you whimper, grinding into him.
he switches sides, biting gently before soothing with his tongue. one hand slides back to your ass, spreading you wider as he fucks into you harder. the other slips between you, rubbing your clit in time with is thrusts.
"cum on my cock," he growls against your skin, "let me feel you."
you shatter with a cry, walls pulsing around him as you soak his lap and the leather seat of his bike. yeosang keeps thrusting through it, chasing his own release.
he flips you suddenly, bending you over the tank of the bike, your chest pressing against the metal as he slams into you from behind. one hand fists in your hair, the other reaching around to rub your clit again, pushing you toward a second orgasm.
you clench around him as he buries himself to the hilt, cumming with a guttural groan, filling you up in hot ropes. yeosang falls over you, chest pressing to your back as he presses soft kisses to your shoulder.
"easy, baby," he murmurs against your neck, one hand stroking up your thigh as the other smooths your skirt down, "you did so good for me."
you sigh as you melt into him, head tipping back onto his shoulder. yeosang reaches into his jacket, pulling out a small cloth, wiping between your legs where his cum is starting to leak out.
"still comfy?" he asks with a faint smile, adjusting you so you're nestled against him again, legs draped over his.
"yeah," you whisper, turning your face to nuzzle his neck, "don't wanna move yet."
⤷ warnings; f!reader, smut, praise, pinv, reader is in a headlock, size kink, unprotected sex
⤷ word count; 350~
inspired by this blurb
plap plap plap
the sound of wet skin echoes throughout the room, your moans shamelessly muffled by the fat of his bicep as he continues to fuck you.
you hadn’t even made it to the bed, instead, your back is pressed against his wide chest, his left arm wrapped loosely around your neck where your slobber dribbles on the meat of his bicep.
you're barely touching the ground, toes just barely grazing the cool floor as he carries your weight like it’s nothing. his mouth pressed to the crown of your head, switching between praises and kissing your scalp.
“my good girl” “taking me so well” “that feel good angel?” “doing such a good job f’me m’so proud of you” he whispers in your ear, voice cracking and horse as he chases his own pleasure.
his breath tickles your hair before his right hand moves from pressing on your lower belly to your folds, parting them before rubbing tight circles into your clit. “i know you’re close baby just a little longer, can you do that for me?” he whimpers, circles only growing tighter and harder as he realizes he’s closer than be thought.
your jaw tightens on his arm as the heat in your stomach grows closer. your spit coats his arm and your chin and you can’t control it. you love how big he is, every part of him.
you love that his frame swallows yours, you love how strong he is and how his bicep is as big as your head, you love the thickness of his thighs, his fingers, his chest, his… everywhere. he was perfect and what better way to show appreciation for that then literally drool all over him.
“yeah? yeah, baby” he mumbles, thrusting into you for the last time before your both cumming. your thighs shake and his finger continues to move as his thrusts stop.
his kissing your neck and your shoulders when he gently puts you down and despite the shake in your legs you’re still somehow standing. “my perfect girl” he grabs your chin to kiss you before laying you down on the bed and crawling on top of you.
⤷ 𝓷𝓼𝓯𝔀. 𝟏𝟖+. clit play. p in v. multiple orgasms. 𝟸.𝟷𝓀
“mhm, i don't think s’gonna fit, baby,”
teasing. leon’s teasing. he has to be after he’s spent hours slowly working you open. making you come on his tongue and fingertips, making you drip until your cunt is soaked and puffy, all so you can take him like you want to but he just keeps teasing you and it’s torture
soft sheets stick to your sweaty back where you're laid out in the middle of your bed with your thighs spread and held down by leon’s large hands pressing into the backs of them. he looks huge towering over you, broad shoulders, rippling muscles and his big cock nestled against your aching and very empty pussy
“it will—you said so—please,” you babble mindlessly while you clench around nothing as if that will somehow prove that you’re ready for him. if you aren’t prepared by now then you simply never will be and the latter doesn’t bare thinking about when you need him to fuck you so desperately
leon’s big everywhere, it’s no secret to anyone really, but his cock had to have been crafted by some kind of god. even as he’s grinding along your core, there’s more of him not touching you at any given moment because of his size. he’s long and thick, a double whammy and more than you could have ever dreamt of
“i don’t know,” leon hums, long and drawn out whilst he tips his chin to his chest to look at the spot where your bodies meet. his fingers brush over the backs of your thighs, soothing trembling muscles in a way that only he could manage to do while he’s being so cruel, “don’t want to split you in half, sweetheart,”
you moan wantonly at the idea of it. being fucked full and broken in two on his cock. you want it—no, you need it. writhing against the sheets and begging is getting you nowhere, so you try a slightly different approach instead, “just the tip then, please,” you whimper and tickle your nails against his wrists
for the first time since he spread you wide, leon falters. a groan rumbles through his chest like thunder and his hips buck involuntarily, making his balls slap against your soft skin, “fuck—yeah, okay,” he mumbles under his breath, like you’re not supposed to hear it, and finally starts to pull his hips back
his cock slips down the center of your cunt, aided by the sheer amount of slick that’s coating your skin, and as the fat head of him slots against your hole, you suck in a harsh breath through your teeth. though, when leon still doesn’t give you what you want, you release it in a whiny, “please, please, plea—oh god,”
begs turn into sobs the second leon suddenly presses into you and stretches you around the tip of his cock. it aches in the best way possible and has your back arching away from the mattress as you fight against leon’s hands to squirm and force yourself further down his length
“not god but close enough,” leon grunts as you tighten like a vice, stuck somewhere between trying to pull him closer and push him out at the same time. he’s struggling too and you know it, the urge to sink into you is written in the furrowing of his eyebrows and his cock is twitching with anticipation
it’s not nearly enough to satisfy either of your needs though, just the tip of him was never going to be enough, but as your lips part and a beg for more sits right on the tip of your tongue, you look up at leon and see the smirk spreading across his face and you know exactly what it means straight away, “i can’t,” you pout
leon shrugs, “you can and you will, angel,” he rasps before he leans forwards slightly and spits directly onto your clit. you whine as one of his hands leaves your thigh and then moan when the calloused pad of his thumb spreads his saliva over where you’re very sensitive, “come like this, then i’ll fuck you, promise,”
electricity fizzles up your spine and shudders through your shoulders while you realise that he’s going to drag this out even longer. he’s going to make you come again and there’s nothing that you can do about it—not that you even want to try when you know that he’ll make it feel so good
your eyes pinch shut and your stomach tenses as his rough swipes turn into soft circles, going around and around your bundle of nerves, which causes your cunt to flutter around him. heat erupts in your stomach, a fire that’ll build quickly because it always does when leon’s the firestarter
“you’re just too small sweetheart, need to make sure you can definitely take me,” leon sighs condescendingly and you can feel his eyes on you, studying you, even though yours are still shut and you can’t actually prove that he's looking at you but somehow, you just know
he's good with his hands, he knows what he's doing, so the slide of his thumb over your clit is easy. all you have to do is lay there and take it, focus on the feeling that’s already beginning to coil tight and you’ll come in no time, especially if leon keeps talking filthy whilst burning holes into you
“fuck—wish you could see how tight you are, pretty little hole strugglin’ to take just the head of my cock,” leon murmurs as he ghosts his thumb down the center of your cunt. you huff over the loss of his touch but it’s back within a second and it’s devastating
his fingertip still goes in a circle but this time he’s tracing around the spot where your pussy is squeezing his cock. your delicate skin against his velvety skin, both wet and sticky with your slick and his precome as it leaks out of you. it’s filthy and it makes your head spin
you can’t help but sniffle and rake vicious lines over his wrist, the one that you can still reach and dig your nails into while he teases, and he returns the touch with a bruising hold on your thigh which makes your eyes flutter open, “ruin me, break me—please—just do anything,” you beg up at him
leon’s cock kicks and his jaw clenches, “yeah?” he grunts afterwards and then his thumb is back on your clit and rubbing harsher, uneven, circles, “fuck you full, make you bulge with my cock, mold your cunt to only take me, ruin you for everyone else?” he rambles through deep growls
“yes—fuck yes—you already have!” you wail while your thighs tremble and your clit throbs under his assault. there’s nothing nice in his movements anymore, it’s devolved into a driven need that’s dirty and abrasive and you love it even as it starts to become too much, too fast
everything in your body is screaming no as you hurtle towards another orgasm, the number of which is unknown because you lost the ability to keep count of them hours ago, but you can’t stop and you won’t stop while the ache in your stomach multiplies and your legs try to pull together, though leon won’t let them
“close, angel?” leon asks lowly and you could hear the smirk in his tone even if you couldn’t see it. you nod frantically in response, unable to use any of your words because of him, “yeah? you’re doing so good—fuck, you’re so good, letting me use you like this,” he groans, each word getting you closer
your chest begins to heave, panting in short, desperate breaths as leon’s thumb starts to swipe back and forth quickly over the tip of your twitching clit. you’re right there, teetering on the edge, ready to let bliss take ahold as your brain turns to mush. you just need one final little push and then—
“come baby, come for me,”
it’s such a simple order and yet, your body listens to it before you even have the chance to process it. the coil snaps and you choke on a sob while your entire body tenses and then shudders. your nerve endings burn in every part of your body, a white hot heat that spreads like a wildfire
somewhere distant is leon’s voice is ringing in your ears with a trickle of soft praises, “there you go, that feels better, huh?” he coos and strokes featherlight hearts—you think—into the outside of your thigh. when he let them snap shut, you don’t know, “uh huh—fuck look at you,”
around his cock your cunt has clamped down and pushed him out, leaving your hole empty again but you can’t find it in yourself to care when leon is wringing your orgasm for all that it’s worth by still brushing sporadic circles over your clit until you knock his hand away with a heavy feeling hand
“oh my god,” you whimper and then shiver through the last of the little aftershocks before you wriggle, “you promised,” you whisper, your tone laced with exhaustion while you remind him of the deal that he made and make it known that you do still want him to fuck you properly
leon chuckles as he leans over you and kisses your bottom lip just once before he pulls away. it’s sloppy and probably a little gross but it makes your cheeks flush anyway, “ready, sweet girl?” he asks and nudges his cock against your wet little hole, barely letting himself slip inside before he pulls back
“yes—please!” you blurt, much louder than you meant to but leon is far too focused on pressing into you to realise it. a silent gasp scratches your throat as he gives you back what you already had, the stretch is no longer there but your back still lazily curves away from your sheets over it
he goes slowly, excruciatingly slowly. each centimetre of his length has your jaw dropping further, while you stare up at him with big, wet eyes. every vein that’s strung around his cock drags against your fluttering walls and nothing else could ever compare to that feeling—a feeling that only leon can give you
once he’s half way in, you quickly feel full. it’s like your body simply has nowhere else for him to go because he’s already occupying every space, filling every spot and grinding against it no matter how sensitive it is. that, however, doesn’t stop your pussy from trying to pull him in
“sweeth—fuck—s’like you’re sucking me in,” leon hisses through clenched molars. his muscles are starting to tense and any composure that he had is slipping away rapidly but he’s held on for so long that you can’t blame him, even if it is his own fault, “shit—oh my god, fuck,” he groans
the last inches of his cock seem to sink into you quicker than the first ones did. whether it’s because you really are sucking him in or because he just doesn’t have the capacity to go slowly anymore, you really don’t care whilst your room gets filled with soft whimpers and deep grunts that sound like a song
that is, until leon bottoms out and nails your cervix
everything goes fuzzy. your vision, your nerves, your veins. you’re blindsided and blacking out whilst your pulse pounds against your eardrums and every colour of the rainbow bursts behind your eyes. you’re frozen, stuck in your mind while an orgasm rips through your system like a hurricane
it feels like lightning in every one of your limbs, seizing sore muscles and forcing a wrecked yelp from your lips. you've never felt anything like it and you're not sure you'll ever get close to it ever again. it's like a high that you don't want to chase
“oh—oh, are you coming, again?” leon’s asking but you can’t reply more than a stiff nod and a shove at his hip because he was right, it’s too much and you can’t take him all at once. he goes easily though, pulling out of you carefully whilst he hums a sympathetic, “good girl,”
losing all of his touch at once is horrid but you're too overstimulated for him to risk giving you anything whilst you writhe underneath him and even though you hate feeling empty in the moment, you'll thank him for it later
“too much,” you slur your words after sometime. your heart is still thumping in your chest and your eyelids are too heavy to open but it’s all made better by leon hovering over you and peppering soothing kisses to your burning cheeks, “too much,” you repeat, causing leon to hum and smile against your skin
“i know baby, i’m just far too big for you,”
thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily! send prompts to my ask box!
a/n i proofread this badly because i’m so exhausted so if there’s any mistakes, please ignore them, thank yew, i love you !!!! 𑣲
you woke up as he kissed you, soft at first, almost sweet. but his hand was already sliding down your body, his rough fingers slipping between your thighs before you were fully awake. you made a sleepy sound, trying to cuddle into him, and that's when you felt it, the cold press of silicone against your clit.
"rafe?" your voice came out confused.
"shhh baby," he murmured against your neck, clicking the vibrator on low. "just let me."
you moaned before you could help it, your body responding to the sudden pleasure. he pushed inside you slow, filling you up while the toy buzzed against your sensitive and swollen clit. it felt good, too good, and you were already clenching around him. "fuck, rafe, that's—"
"i know, honey." he cut you off with a kiss, starting to move inside you. "that's the point." the pleasure built fast. too fast. your hands gripped his shoulders as your back arched, and you came with a broken cry, your walls fluttering around his cock. but he didn't stop. he kept fucking you, kept the vibrator pressed right where you needed it least.
"wait, wait—" you gasped, trying to push his hand away. "it's too much, rafey."
"no it's not." he pinned your wrist above your head, his pace never slowing. "you can take it."
your second orgasm crashed built inside you before the first had fully faded. tears slipped down your cheeks as you shook beneath him, a loud moan came out of you. he watched you fall apart, his eyes dark and hungry, and he didn't let up. "r-rafe, seriously please, i can't—"
"you're gonna." he pressed harder with the vibrator, fucking you deeper. "you're gonna keep coming for me until i say stop."
your pussy was soaked, making wet squelching sounds with every thrust. you were already overwhelmed, oversensitive, and he was right, he made you come again, a third time, your body jerking through it as a sob broke from your lips.
"good girl." but he didn't even slow down. his hips kept slapping against yours, the vibrator never leaving your clit. you were shaking so hard you could barely breathe, every nerve inside of you on fire.
"please, rafe, please stop, i can't, i can't do another one" you begged, your voice cracking. tears were streaming down your face now, and you tried to move away, but his weight pinned you down. "yes, yes you can, baby." his voice was low, almost gentle, but his eyes were cold. "you're doing so good for me. just one more. give me one more."
"no, no, please" you sobbed, but your body betrayed you. the fourth orgasm ripped through you again, violent and uncontrollable. you screamed into his shoulder, your nails digging into his back as you shook around his cock. "that's it." he groaned, fucking you through it. "that's my girl."
you were a total mess. soaked, shaking, crying. every muscle in your body was tense, and the vibrator felt like fire against your clit. but he still didn't stop. he turned the toy up a notch. "rafe, no! i swear i can't—" you barely choked out, trying to clamp your thighs shut. he forced them open with his knees.
"you can and you will." he thrust harder, faster. "you're gonna come on my cock until i'm satisfied." the fifth one came without any warning, a sharp and painful surge of pleasure that made your vision go white. you couldn't even scream anymore, just a broken whimper as your body tensed up, pussy clenching so tight it almost hurt him. rafe groaned, pace finally faltering.
"fuckkk, there you go." he pressed down on the vibrator, grinding it against you as he came inside you, hot and thick. you felt every pulse of his release, your oversensitive cunt milking him dry.
when he finally pulled out and turned off the toy, you were limp, gasping, tears still wet on your cheeks. he kissed your forehead, soft and possessive. he smiled down at you, a perfect mess, all wrecked just for him. "see, baby? you can take it."
I wanna get headlock by Leon fucking Kennedy while he fucks me hard, also I wanna be his controversial young gf😝😝 (sorry I’m in my ovulation phase)
no ur so real for this babe don’t evaa apologise!! 18+
because like yes… it starts out innocently, warm morning light spilling through the kitchen blinds as you cook pancakes in your lacy little bralet and a pair of his boxers with him behind you, rubbing his hands all over your curves, kissing at your neck and shoulders, hard-on pressed against your ass.
It doesn’t take long until you’re bent over the sleek marble countertops with those boxers pooled at your ankles and his fat cock buried deep inside your dripping cunt, stretching you out around him, groaning against your shoulder as you writhe against him.
“You’re too perfect, baby, looking all pretty, cooking me breakfast, letting me fuck this tight pussy— fuckin’ angel.”
Then his big arm wraps around your neck to keep you still, warm muscles tucked snugly under your jaw, your cheeks all squished between his bicep and forearm… and your cunt clenches around his thickness, pressing your ass back against him with a choked whimper of his name.
“Ooh, does my girl like that?— y’like when your old man chokes you a little, gonna cum, huh?” He coos roughly, his arm tightening just a fraction to feel your slick walls clamp around his cock once more. your eyes flutter shut as he ruts himself against your ass, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you over and over again, the wet slap of skin filling your mind.
“Answer me or I stop.”
You gurgle, fingers desperately curling at his arm, blabbering nonsense, spit dribbling down your chin and pooling filthy at the crook of his elbow before finally managing out a whiny, “Fu-ck— yeah, yes!- hnng-” gushing around his dick as he fucks his load into your fluttering pussy, his face buried in your sleep tussled hair, moaning about how fucking perfect you are.
Then he’ll make you pancakes with extra syrup <3 (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
જ⁀➴ Resident Evil Masterlist જ⁀➴ General Masterlist
i read your recent yeosang-centric ask and receives and i was thinking…214 and 220 with yeosang would kinda make me go feral
if you choose to this, go wild 🙏🏽🙏🏽
➯a/n: waaaaah let's be feral together frfr
➯a/n2: this might be my favorite yet and i absolutely went wild ngl
Toy
❥Kang Yeosang x fem reader
214 + 220: cnc + manhandling
✈︎queued for: wed 21st
(>ᴗ•)genre: smut
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: cnc meaning darkish content (forcing, rough, threats, pulling his hair and scratching his back), established relationship, STRONG dom/sub dynamics, MEAN and nasty sangie (like always😋), choking+breathplay, finger sucking+gagging, spit as lube, minimal prep, spanking (but not where you expect it...), unprotected+creampie, degradation, pet names (darling, baby), name calling (including but not limited to bitch + slut (yeosang staples atp), toy, stupid(girl)), cock warming, after care yippee !!!!
♡masterlist !♡
18+.MINORS TAKE YOUR LEAVE.
࿐
"Say again?" Yeosang asks with a raise of his eyebrow.
"I said no..." You whisper, shaking your head, "I don't wan-"
You know it's coming, but it still makes you yelp in surprise when he yanks you off the bed and to your feet.
"No," he scoffs, shoving your pajama pants down and lifting you off the floor again to kick them away, "I know that's not what I heard. I taught you better than that. Try again." He shoves you back to the bed, making you land on your stomach.
You're already dizzy from the way he's tossing you around, and you know he's not going to stop anytime soon. Because you told him not to. You like it when he uses you like a toy.
And he likes it even more. "I said," he flips you onto your back and crawls over you, "try again. Did you hear me, stupid girl?"
"Baby... Can't you go a few days without having sex?"
He can't. You know that. And it's perfect. Because neither can you.
"And miss out on this perfect pussy?" He pouts as he cups your heat through your panties. The feeling of his palm squeezing you almost makes you melt. "No chance."
"Quit it." You huff as you slap at his arm; but he only smirks and keeps squeezing your cunt. "Yeosang, seri-"
The rrrrip of your panties makes you go wide-eyed, looking down at how he's tearing them away from your body in his fist. "Sangie! I said-"
"I heard what you said," he groans as he tears them completely away from you, "now shut up, bitch. Before I gag you with your panties."
You bite at your lip, avoiding his gaze as he looks at you intently. You're already dripping, and his use of his favorite nickname for you is making matters worse.
"That's what I thought." He breathes a laugh, throwing them onto the floor to join your pants. "Bitches love to bark, but they always end up submitting."
You have to stop yourself from praising him for that line, it makes you go from dripping to gushing. He catches the way your eyes light up, though; and it makes him smile for a split second before he gets back into it.
"Take your top off." He commands while he sits up, ridding himself of his own. He leans over you while taking his pants off and gives you a quick peck to the lips. "Be a good cock sleeve for me and I might be nice enough to let you cum."
When you take too long to 'decide', he makes it easy for you and pulls you up by the collar before lifting your shirt above your head.
"I'm being serious, Sang-"
"So am I. You think I'm playing? You think I won't bend you over and just take what I want? You know better than that, where's your brain at tonight, huh? Have I finally fucked it out of you?" He pokes your head mockingly before giving it a shove, making you face the wall.
You have to hide your grin behind your hand, pretending to be taken aback for a moment before you turn your head back him. "You won't-"
Before you can even finish your sentence, he's grabbing you by the neck and kissing you roughly. You're so distracted by his tongue invading your mouth that you don't realize he's spreading your legs with his.
When you do, you gasp into his mouth, remembering you're both naked and he's rock hard from throwing you around. You grab a fistful of his hair, pulling him back and breathing deeply while turning your face 'disgustedly'. "You damn perv, I said I'm not in the mood-"
You gag around his fingers as they suddenly raid your mouth, he gives you zero warning before pushing them in. "Mouthy slut," he chuckles as you try to pull at his wrist, "you better start sucking, get them nice and sloppy — it's the only lube you're getting."
You don't need any, you're already leaving a wet spot on his bed. But you suck anyway, glaring at him all the while. "Now we're getting somewhere," he hums pleased, using his other hand to trace your chest teasingly soft. "Doesn't it feel nice to just listen? Just be my good little toy?"
You can't answer with him currently playing with your tongue — but you would say yes.
When you lower your teeth a fraction of an inch, his hand shoots up to your throat. "Fucking try it, I dare you." He pushes his fingers deeper again, making you gag. He grins as he feels the vibrations under his hand. "I will choke you until I cum, and I won't be gentle. Open your mouth, now."
You let your jaw drop, whining as he leans over and purses his lips. Even though you shake your head, he grabs your jaw and holds you still while he dribbles into your mouth — slowly. Making you watch helplessly until it meets your tongue.
You force the moan that comes out to sound more like a groan, pouting with your eyes as he starts grinding against your wetness. "You're so beautiful when you beg, it gets me so hard~" He nearly purrs while gathering up all of your accumulated spit onto his fingers and scooping it out.
He keeps you pinned in place by your neck while he lathers his member in your shared saliva, squeezing the sides of your throat slightly while he jerks himself off.
You can't help but watch with excitement as he lines up with your slick hole, going the extra mile to lube himself up with your arousal; sliding his length up and down your slit slowly. "Look at this pretty pussy," he says, partly to himself, as he squeezes your neck tighter subconsciously, "all mine to fuck whenever I want. Isn't that right, darling?"
You catch yourself nodding, and he laughs lowly as you quickly shake your head instead.
When he presses his tip against your entrance, you whine; trying to crawl backwards and making it only a fraction of an inch when he practically crushes you under him. "Stay still, slut." But his eyes say, 'try a little harder, darling'.
"No, get off."
"Oh, I'm going to~"
You have to hold back a laugh at his play on your words, panting as you grab at his wrist and try to kick away from him. "Damn it, Sangie! Just use a fleshlight!"
"I am." You should have expected that one, actually. "You're my perfect personal toy, and I'm gonna use you whether you like it or not." He can't help the praise, even though he shouldn't be giving you as much. He's 'mad' at you.
His bulbous tip pressing its way into you knocks all of your thoughts from your head, leaving you jaw dropped and whining as he sinks into you slowly. He loosens his grip on your throat, letting you fill your lungs fully as he inches deeper into your ill prepared body — if you would actually inhale, that is.
"Breathe, darling." He has to remind you, cupping your face in his hands softly while forcing himself all the way to the hilt. His breathing is hitched and heavy as your walls pulse and twitch around him, smothering him in your tight warmth.
He rarely fucks you without stretching you out first — Yeosang will do many, many things to and with you, but he never wants to seriously hurt you. And he's fairly... well endowed, so whenever he fucks you so suddenly it leaves you sore for days.
But you'd both be liars if you said it didn't feel like heaven as your walls try to mold around him.
And you'd both be liars if you said you didn't want to fuck rough and nasty right now.
"Hey," he taps your cheek, bringing you back to your consciousness, "spit in my mouth, darling."
Your body acts before your mind, spitting up into his awaiting mouth without a hint of hesitation. He leans back and keeps his hands on your waist incase you come back to your senses and remember the scene you're supposed to be acting.
He pulls out the smallest bit and spits down where you're connected, slowly sliding back in and making you whimper. "You're too big, baby," you pout while blinking quickly, staving off your tears from the stretch, "pull out, please..."
He smirks as he sees you licking your lips, and he slides one of his hands into yours. You lace your fingers together, giving him one firm squeeze. A silent 'keep going'.
"Pull out?" He chuckles, shaking his head as he continues to thrust one thick inch in and out of your twitching cunt. "No way," he gives your hand a squeeze before letting go, a final show of affection before he goes wild, "not when my cock sleeve is sucking me in so good~"
And wild he is, he starts pounding you like there's no such thing as tomorrow.
"F-uck! Baby, please!" Your voice waivers as he grabs your hips, lifting you into every one of his thrusts like you weight nothing at all. "Gen-gentle!" You gasp when he sits back on his legs, pulling your hips into his lap and bouncing you on his cock like an actual toy. You let your shoulders slump on the bed, your back arching off of it as he repeatedly hits your g-spot.
"My stupid girl," he moans as he makes you ride him, watching your head toss back and forth with a dark satisfaction. "You think I'm gonna go easy on you when you've been such a difficult toy?"
When all you can do is moan weakly with each of his impossibly deep thrusts, he settles you on his lap and wraps one hand under your arched back; keeping you there.
The other lands a sudden and startling spank to your chest, making you yelp.
"Answer me, slut."
"N-no..."
He gives a devilish grin while smacking your breast again, his head rolling back as you clench around him. "Fuck..." He breathes out slowly, his cock twitching inside of you. "No, that's right," he makes contact again, chuckling when you try and swat his hand away to avoid the next one. "Bad toys don't get gentle."
You let out an embarrassingly loud yell of ecstasy when he slides you further up the bed with his hips, driving himself in as deep as humanly possible while getting back ontop of you. He lets you have a moment, your arms wrapping around him tightly and your eyes screwing shut as he grinds into you.
You're already close to cumming, and he can sense it. "Bad toys don't get to cum, either. Hold it."
And that's the only command you get before he starts slamming his hips onto yours, the sound of your skin hitting each other echoing around you with your uncontrollable yells and his low moans. It still feels like he's going to tear you in half, even though you're well past wet. Going from nothing to Yeosang is like climbing a hill and then Mount Everest.
"Sangie!" You cry out, digging your nails into his back.
His hand wraps around your throat again, the other holding his weight as he hovers above you; pressing his forehead to yours as he chokes you. He looks beyond pleased with himself as you start tearing up — and it nearly makes you cum when he places a kiss to your trembling lips.
The drag of your nails down his back makes his hips stutter before they return to their rhythm with a vengeance; making you sob breathlessly with his hand cutting off your oxygen. When he lets go, you take a long breath in, knowing he'll come back.
"You've never appreciated air this much, have you?" He moans against your lips, watching your glossy eyes closely. "Say thank you, slut."
"Mmf- thank you, baby," you manage to pant, holding his hips tightly to try and slow him down. Your grip does nothing at all except stir him on.
"There's my good fleshlight~" He grins, licking your lips before kissing you passionately as his hand tightens around your neck once more; stealing your air from you quickly.
After he lets go and you take in another breath, it falls from your lips instantly, "thank you!" You're done pretending that you don't want him. "Harder!"
He laughs breathlessly at your sudden switch, but he's not complaining. It's fun to act, sure. But it's also fun to see how badly you truly want him.
"Yeah? Harder? My slut wants harder~?"
"Yes, baby! Please, ha-harder!"
And who is he to deny you when you've put on such a good show for him?
He puts all of his force into pounding into you as you spread your legs wider, your hands tangling up in his hair and tugging — and he lets you because he knows you need something to anchor you as he fucks you to another plane of reality.
"You take me so well, darling," he says between his moans, wrapping both of his hands around your neck; not choking, just resting there comfortingly, possessively. "Why don't you cum for me?"
"R-really?" You choke on your own accord, chasing your breath as you look to him with wide and begging eyes.
"Yes," he nods with a small chuckle at your eagerness, "you're a good cock sleeve for me, my perfect whore- fuck!" He squeezes your neck as you clench, cumming so suddenly and intensely around him that he can't help but follow suit.
While you're crying out moans and creaming and pulsing around him with a violent heartbeat — he's no better off. Growling in your ear, spilling hot ropes of cum deep inside of you, fucking you through it so fast and messily that your shared release is dirtying the blanket.
With one final slam — he wraps his arms around you tightly as you do the same.
He rolls onto his side with you in his arms, making you whimper at the new angle because he stays deep inside of you as the waves of ecstasy fizzle into a pleasant buzz in your body.
You melt into his hold as he re-wraps his arms around you, cradling your head to his chest. Both of you are sweaty, heaving breathing, messes — but that doesn't stop either of you from cuddling. "I love you." He hums softly, voice dripping with pleasure.
"I love you." You moan back, soothing over the red marks on his back.
"Did I hurt you?" He asks gently as he rubs your hip, looking down at you and smiling as you shake your head. "No?"
"No, I'm okay, baby," you return his smile, leaning into his touches and closing your eyes peacefully.
"Perfect," he kisses your forehead before pressing you close to his chest again. "Let me stay inside for a while?"
"Mh, of course," you slur with sleep threatening to take over, "why?"
"I know you'll be sore for a few days, and I'll miss my favorite toy~" His words earn a laugh from you, and he feels you nod against his chest as he hugs you tighter with a smile gracing his lips.
"You can stay," you whisper as his soft strokes to your back lure you to sleep, "you can always stay, baby."
