2O4O 👜 ❪ VELVETROOM ❫ older bf heeseung x fem reader ✶ㅤ𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌ㅤ kissing, skinship, comfortㅤ
older!bf!heeseung who always waits for you outside your university building no matter how late your last class ends, leaning against his car with a soft smile and a warm coat ready to wrap around your shoulders the second you step out into the cold.
older!bf!heeseung who calls you “baby” in that low, gentle voice that makes your knees weak, especially when he’s half-asleep in the morning and pulls you closer under the blankets just to mumble “five more minutes, baby.”
older!bf!heeseung who remembers every tiny detail you mention your favorite coffee order, the exact way you like your eggs, the song that makes you cry and surprises you with them on random days just to see that bright smile light up your face.
older!bf!heeseung who teases you endlessly about being “his little one” but gets fiercely protective the moment anyone else even looks at you the wrong way, stepping in front of you with that calm, quiet authority that makes people back off instantly.
older!bf!heeseung who cooks for you after your long study days, humming softly while chopping vegetables, and always plates everything beautifully because “you work so hard, you deserve to eat pretty too.”
older!bf!heeseung who loves when you wear his hoodies and sweaters because they swallow you whole, and he can’t stop himself from pulling you into his lap just to bury his face in your neck and breathe you in.
older!bf!heeseung who gives the best forehead kisses slow, lingering ones when you’re stressed, quick reassuring ones before you leave for class, and soft goodnight ones that make you fall asleep with a smile.
older!bf!heeseung who never rushes you when you’re talking about your day, even if you ramble for an hour, because listening to your voice is one of his favorite parts of coming home.
older!bf!heeseung who drives with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, thumb gently stroking circles while soft music plays and he glances over every few minutes just to make sure you’re happy.
older!bf!heeseung who secretly plans future dates months in advance. quiet picnics, weekend getaways, even looking at apartments “just to see” because he already knows he wants forever with his sunshine girl.
older!bf!heeseung who gets a little shy when you call him “oppa” teasingly, ears turning pink, but secretly loves the way it sounds coming from your lips.
older!bf!heeseung who holds your hand in public without hesitation, fingers laced tightly, and pulls you close whenever the crowd gets too much because he knows you feel safest right there beside him.
older!bf!heeseung who whispers “I love you” against your hair at night when he thinks you’re already asleep, but smiles when you whisper it back, heart full and warm in the dark.
ii. GENRE — porn with plot, near future / dystopian au.
iii. SYNOPSIS — in a near-future society, your fertility has a deadline—and your government-assigned mate is a complete stranger. with one week to comply, you must live as a married couple, navigating intimacy, desire, and forbidden pleasure… all while pretending it’s just for the contract.
iv. WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL , mdni, smut, impregnation implications, voyeurism, sleepy sex, drugs / fertility enhancement tablets, unprotected sex, creampie, playing house but forced to, shower sex, blowjob, oral (both male & female), dirty talk, power imbalance, teasing, breast play, nipple teasing, eating out, dubious consent, cockwarming, squirting, lmk if more.
v. WORD COUNT — 6.7K — OCTOBER 5TH
“So… we’re assigned mates? Your contract’s about to expire too?” Heeseung—the name he at least claimed was his—spoke up as he glanced between you and the bed. The bed was shoved awkwardly into the sterile lab room, with a pathetic vase of flowers on the nightstand. A fake attempt at making the lab look like a cozy home.
“I guess so…” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck. Your eyes flicked to the glass wall, where machines beeped rhythmically like they were mocking you. Honestly—how the hell was this supposed to be romantic enough to fuck in?
The rule was bizarre, but in the year 3000’s, everyone got slapped with a fertility expiration date. And with humans dwindling while robots ran most of the world, the government made sure no one wasted their fertility. You had to breed before your “deadline,” and until then, live like a married couple. A shiny little “family unit.” Apparently that was how humanity would cling to survival amidst the hum of robots sweeping streets and making lattes.
And you, being the shy—or let’s be honest, lazy-ass you were, never bothered to step outside. Why would you, when your robo-assistant Zozo was perfectly capable of fetching groceries, yelling at delivery drones, or dealing with annoying neighbors? So when the government officer came knocking while you were sprawled on the couch debating which show to binge next, Zozo had opened the door and accepted the letter with zero hesitation. You tried to ignore it, even as your stomach dropped reading the fine print.
But ignoring the government is basically an Olympic-level mistake. A few hours later, you were dragged into this lab, now forced to play house with a stranger who was—surprise—the father of your potential baby. Like, how did you go from lazy naps and snack runs to this? From half-asleep binge-watching to congratulations, you’re in a breeding contract.
You sighed, side-eyeing Heeseung who was awkwardly fidgeting with the corner of the sterile blanket. He didn’t look much happier. At least that made two of you.
And, okay, sure—you’d seen robo-dogs on the streets going at it like they were programmed for porn, so it’s not like you were completely clueless about the act. But this wasn’t just sex. It was a performance. Roleplay. Pretending to be a couple. A married couple. And if you two didn’t produce results? The fine would be so massive your descendants would still be paying it off centuries later.
Talk about pressure.
⪩⪨
“Umm… so?” he speaks up as he steps into the shower, clearly waiting for you to follow. Well, this is awkward—an attempt at getting used to intimacy when neither of you have the faintest idea how to start.
“So?” you echo, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel. But your eyes betray you, following the trail of water as it slides down his bare chest, glistening under the harsh bathroom light, then disappearing somewhere past his v-line and below. This is the first time you’ve ever been this close to a guy—like, this close—and you’re willing to bet it’s the same for him.
“You’re… showering in that?” he asks, voice hesitant, like he can’t tell if the question is rude or just dumb. The poor guy is clearly just as inexperienced as you.
You glance down at yourself and realize, oh right, you’re still fully clothed. Top and jeans. Jeans in the shower—how chic. “Umm… I forgot,” you mutter, laughing awkwardly before tugging your shirt over your head. Your plain black sports bra clings damp against your skin. His gaze lingers a little too long on your chest—long enough for you to wonder if he’s captivated, silently judging the size, or just zoning out like an idiot.
“Can you not look?” you mutter sharply.
“Uh—yeah, sure.” His voice cracks, embarrassed, and he whips around so fast to face the wall that water splashes up. You quickly peel off your jeans, now left standing in your bra and underwear, the steam curling around you both.
For a while, neither of you do anything but stand there, the water falling between your bodies while you try not to combust from sheer awkwardness. Yet you can’t help stealing glances at his back. It’s more toned than you expected, the kind of back you want to trace your fingers along without thinking. And then there’s the way the water darkens his hair, dripping down his shoulders.
You curse yourself for remembering that one accidental peek you’d taken when you first stepped in—the way his boxers clung to whatever he was hiding beneath. It’s… a lot. Too hot. Hot enough to almost make you forget this is government-mandated breeding prep and not… something else.
“Are you done?” he asks finally, still facing the wall like his life depends on it.
“Yeah, you can turn around now.” Your voice comes out a little weaker than intended. He turns, his expression neutral, and quietly reaches for the soap.
He scrubs himself with slow, methodical movements, completely ignoring your eyes burning holes into him—until he finally speaks. “If you keep staring like that,” he says, raising a brow without looking directly at you, “I can’t promise I’ll keep being so respectful. Wouldn’t really be fair, would it?”
You snap your gaze away so fast you nearly slip. “I just zoned out.”
“Mhm.” He hums, low and unconvinced, before continuing to lather up. He doesn’t hand you the soap, though—just keeps working it over himself like he hasn’t caught the hint at all.
“What do you do, Heeseung? For a living?” you ask quietly, already knowing how offensive that question can sound in today’s world, where robots basically rule everything.
“I… train robo dogs,” he mutters, almost shyly, as his hand works the soap over his stomach. When his fingers slip lower, your eyes flick down for a second before darting away in a rush of heat.
“Oh, that’s nice.” You reply too quickly, trying to sound casual when your face is burning. “I work at home… finding mistakes made by robos on popular websites.”
“So, basically unemployed?” he teases, finally loosening up enough to smirk at you. The smell of soap and the steam between you almost make the moment feel… normal. Domestic. Like you’re not two virgins being forced to learn how to fuck for the sake of humanity.
“Hey! Don’t say that!” you swat at his arm, laughing along even though you hate admitting he’s right. Like 96% of the population, you’re jobless. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked the question at all.
But then you feel it—his arm circling your waist and yanking you back until you’re flush against his chest. The way his breath ghosts over your neck sends a shiver down your spine, and the thick, unmistakable press of his cock through his wet boxers makes your pussy clench instinctively.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, “you don’t have to feel bad. It’s not your fault the robots are taking everything.”
You nod, but your body betrays you. Your head tips back against his shoulder, lips parting as a small gasp slips out. His soapy hand slides from your stomach to the underside of your bra, fingertips clumsy as they push under the wet fabric and rub over your breasts. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, his touches too curious, too experimental—like he’s trying to figure out what your nipples even are—but it has your cunt throbbing all the same.
“Heeseung…” you moan, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it.
“Just… cleaning you up,” he whispers, but the way his cock is rock hard and digging against your ass tells you otherwise.
“Please just—ahh—” your voice breaks into another moan as he shoves your bra up, not even bothering to remove it, letting your tits spill out for him to knead. The cold water pouring over you makes the contrast of his hands even more intense.
His palms squeeze your breasts like stress balls, thumbs brushing soap slick over your hardened nipples, and you swear you’ll melt right there. “H-Heeseung…” you whimper, a shaky moan tearing from your throat when his other hand slips lower, tugging your panties to the side. You’re embarrassingly wet already, your pussy aching for something, anything, even if it’s not the official “breeding time.”
He leans down, his lips brushing yours, and before you can think, he kisses you—soft, sloppy, uncertain, but desperate. His hand still tugs and pinches at your nipple, and you moan into his mouth, the sound muffled as your tongue brushes his.
“Do you want to… keep on practicing?” he asks against your lips, his voice low, unsteady, but hungry. The way you look up at him, breathless and wide-eyed, says everything your words can’t.
You moan instead, sliding your hand between your wet bodies until your palm cups the thick length straining against his boxers. The groan that rips out of him makes your pussy gush. If sex is really going to feel this good—if his cock filling you will make you feel half as powerful as this moment does—you curse yourself for wasting so many years hiding from it.
Now all you have is Heeseung. And the way his lips part, eyes shut tight as your hand rubs him, his grip on your waist faltering—fuck, you smirk against his mouth. Because you love knowing you have that kind of effect on him.
“Can I… touch you more?” you whisper, voice uncertain but desperate, like you’re asking for something forbidden even though that’s literally the point of this whole set-up. For a second you almost forget this is all arranged—just a breeding contract. A week-long roleplay to make sure humanity doesn’t go extinct.
He doesn’t trust his voice, so he just nods, too breathless to say a word.
Your hand slips inside his soaked boxers, finally wrapping around his cock skin-to-skin. The moment you touch him properly, he groans—deep and guttural—his chest heaving as water streams down his face. He has never felt anything like it, and neither have you, but instinct is doing all the work. Your palm knows where to squeeze, how to move, even if no manual has ever explained how to handle cock.
It throbs heavy and hot in your grip, veins pulsing against your hand. Precum slicks your fingers even through the shower spray. His shaky hand reaches down and shoves his boxers off his hips, and your movements falter, because suddenly it isn’t just something hidden under fabric—it’s there, right in front of you.
You let your hand fall away just to look. His cock springs free, flushed pink at the tip, glistening with beads of precum that mix with the shower water. Thick, hard, longer than you expect, curved just slightly upward—it’s fucking beautiful. You glance up at him, but his eyes are squeezed shut, lost in sensation.
You don’t know what comes over you. Maybe curiosity. Maybe hunger. Maybe both. Your thumb brushes over the leaking slit, smearing precum over the swollen head. He shudders hard, muscles twitching under your touch. Then, with an impulsive grin, you bring your thumb to your lips and lick it clean.
“It’s salty…” you murmur, licking your lips slowly. The taste is raw, musky, addictive. You want more. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you sink to your knees under the spray, face tilted up to him as your tongue flicks experimentally at his tip.
His eyes snap open wide, panic and arousal clashing. He grabs his cock like he’s about to shield it from you. “N-No, no, don’t do that—” he stammers, his voice breaking.
“Why not?” you ask innocently, breath ghosting over his shaft as your lips hover close.
“Isn’t it… dirty?” he whispers, chewing his lip, like he can’t decide if he wants to pull you back or push you further.
You smirk up at him, hair plastered wet against your cheeks from the shower. “No. I like it. Can I have it back?”
His cock twitches visibly at your words. He groans low, like he’s fighting with himself, but gives in—grabbing your hand and wrapping it back around his length before letting go again, as if surrendering.
You lick your lips and kiss the swollen tip reverently. “This is so pretty, I swear,” you whisper, eyes wide as you stare at his flushed dick like it’s art.
“It’s not,” he mutters immediately, embarrassed, his teeth grit as his chest rises and falls like he’s just run a marathon.
Before he can defend his poor cock, you graze your teeth lightly over the head. His reaction is immediate: a strangled yelp that echoes against the tile. “NO TEETH, PLEASE! IT’S NOT FOOD—”
You giggle, lips brushing against the head of his cock. “You’re right… it’s not food. But it’s a snack.”
He groans so loud it shakes you, his knees buckling slightly. Your mouth wraps around him at last, hot and wet and clumsy, tongue swirling against the sensitive underside. The taste of his precum mixes with water, salty but not bad, almost intoxicating.
He sucks in a sharp breath, a moan spilling out of him as his hand instinctively buries in your wet hair. When you look up, his eyes are half-lidded, lips parted in awe. His cock twitches in your mouth as your tongue flicks over the treat again.
When his fingers tighten in your hair, you nearly whine at the sensation—because the look on his face is pure, overwhelmed pleasure. The sound of his low, desperate groan as he guides your head just slightly has your pussy clenching so hard you think your cunt will start dripping down your thighs.
It’s messy, hot, completely new for both of you. But with his cock heavy on your tongue, his voice breaking as he moans your name, and his eyes locked on you—fuck, it’s perfect.
You dive down to take him deeper, swallowing his length until it presses against your throat. The stretch makes your eyes water, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth as you bob your head faster, sucking greedily. The gag hits you, sharp and messy, but you don’t stop—if anything, the slight burn only drives you harder, your throat tightening around him. Heeseung’s breath stutters, his hips twitching helplessly as his cock pulses inside your mouth.
You don’t know what the sudden swell against your tongue means, only that it makes him groan brokenly, almost too loud under the hiss of the shower. You pull back with a wet pop, gasping, lips swollen and slick, confusion flickering across your face.
“What’s happenin—”
The question never finishes. Hot, sticky spurts shoot across your face, catching you off guard as you shut your eyes. Thick, white ropes cover your cheeks, your lips, dripping down your neck and chest before the shower water thins it, streams of cum and water sliding down your skin in a messy contrast.
You freeze, stunned, before blinking up at him through the droplets. Heeseung’s chest is heaving, his hand still tangled in your hair as if he lost control of himself completely. Relief is written all over him, his face flushed, but there’s shame too, creeping into his gaze as he realizes what he’s just done.
Your eyes drop to his cock again—still flushed, twitching, glistening under the spray, streaks of the same milky liquid clinging to it before the water washes it away. Your lips part in disbelief as you whisper, voice shaking, “That… that came from your cock?”
Heeseung swallows hard, too breathless to defend himself, and just gives a shaky nod.
Neither of you understand it—this raw, messy reaction, this proof of something more—but the hunger twisting in your chest is undeniable. And as the salty taste lingers on your tongue and your skin, you know one thing for certain.
You’re addicted.
⪩⪨
And the second day with him feels even stranger—stranger, but addicting. Both of you are already drowning in this whole thing about the fertility expiration date, the so-called breeding contract. You’re pretty sure the government officials would’ve happily stamped a certificate, binding you both together officially. It should feel wrong, clinical, but with how real everything’s gotten… it doesn’t.
“What are you making, wifey?” Heeseung’s voice breaks the silence as he walks out of the nightly shower, towel slung low on his hips, droplets sliding down his chest. The sight alone pulls you back to last night—the cock you’d touched, sucked, swallowed. The salty, musky taste of him still feels fresh on your tongue. Water cascading down his abs, the way his body shuddered under your mouth—“I asked what you were making, wifey.” He’s right beside you now, waving a hand in front of your dazed face.
“Fried rice… that’s all I can make.” You joke, but it’s the truth, your voice shaky as you snap back from your thoughts. Except he doesn’t look all that present either, his eyes heavy, his expression unreadable.
Then he’s behind you, close—too close. Heat radiates off his damp skin as you stir the rice, and you nearly drop the spatula when his hand cups your ass, firm and greedy. A gasp rips from you when his fingers slide between your thighs, brushing your slick folds, spreading the wetness you’d never dared touch yourself.
“Hee—” His name spills from your lips, cut into a moan when his finger glides up your slit, pressing right where it makes your knees weak. “Ahh…” Your head drops helplessly against his shoulder, his breath warm as he leans in, tongue flicking against the shell of your ear.
“Don’t you think…” his words vibrate low, sinful, “…we should at least enjoy ourselves a bit before ‘The Day’? Hm?”
Your body betrays you, pressing back against him, desperate. The spatula trembles in your hand, rice forgotten, brain fried worse than the pan. But then, just as you’re about to melt, he pulls away. His lips brush your ear, whispering smugly, “Focus on the fried rice. Can’t compromise on dinner, right, sweetheart?”
You don’t know when he got this bold—maybe last night broke something open in both of you. All you know is that you like it. Too much.
“Heeseung…” Your voice cracks on his name, shame mixing with hunger. “Can you… touch me again? It felt so good… we-we can enjoy all we want.” The words tumble out, raw and desperate, and you cringe at how needy you sound—yet you can’t stop yourself.
His smirk is audible in the way he breathes against your neck. “Of course. I owe you after yesterday, don’t I?” His lips press against your skin, just below your ear, and your moan betrays you instantly. His hands wander lower again, teasing, claiming, but every time you falter at stirring the rice, he pulls back, leaving you whining at the loss.
It’s a cruel game. A dangerous one. And you’re hooked.
“shh… if you want it, just keep working on our dinner, mm?” His voice dips low, his breath ghosting against your ear as one of his hands slides directly beneath your panties, cupping the soaked heat between your thighs. The other hand pushes your top upward until it bunches around your chest, and with a deft flick, your bra unclasps. You gasp, heart racing, realizing he learned the trick from last night’s shower.
“i-i understand.” you mumble, your words shaky, tears of embarrassment stinging your lashes as your body betrays you, moaning when his palm squeezes your bare breast. You clutch the spatula tighter, trying to keep stirring the rice, but your arms tremble as he plays with your body, shamelessly drawing out every sound you try to hide. The scent of garlic and spices mixes with the heady, unmistakable scent of your arousal, thick in the air. Heeseung inhales deeply behind you, lips curling into a grin.
“smells good… eating it after we enjoy would be even better, no?” His tone is casual, almost mocking, as if fingering you while you cook is the most normal thing in the world. Just as you suck in a breath to respond, his finger presses against your slick entrance, circling teasingly before slipping inside with a slow push. You choke on a gasp, hips twitching as the thick digit sinks into your tight heat, nudging against tender, gummy walls that hug him greedily.
A low sound leaves him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he feels your warmth around him. “Fuck… you’re so tight. Just my finger and you’re squeezing like this…” His words stir the heat pooling in your stomach. He moves it inside you, testing, curling upward slightly, brushing something that makes your knees buckle.
“Heeseung—” your breathy moan escapes without restraint.
“Shh, it’s okay…” His lips press at your temple, soft, almost tender, while his hand leaves your breast only to flick the stove off with a practiced motion. The rice sizzles one last time before silence falls, leaving only the sound of your shallow breaths and his finger plunging wetly into you.
Then suddenly, he pulls out. You whine at the emptiness, thighs quivering, but he doesn’t let you fall apart there. He turns you around, guiding you gently until your back is pressed against the counter. Your sweatpants are tugged down to your knees, messy and damp from the arousal staining them. Your breasts spill forward, nipples flushed and needy.
“Heeseung…” You say his name like a plea, chest heaving, shame and desire battling in your eyes.
Heeseung looks down at you, his boldness from moments ago flickering into something almost shy, almost boyish. His gaze lingers on your trembling thighs, the wetness dripping from your slit, before he raises his eyes back to yours. His voice is soft, hesitant, but laced with hunger.
“Let me… return yesterday’s favor.”
And without a word he sinks down to his knees, as if duty-bound to fulfill what being your breeding mate meant. The air leaves your lungs in a sharp gasp the moment his mouth latches onto your soaked folds, his tongue already tasting you, suckling at your core like he’s been starving for you.
“Oh—fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as his mouth works between your legs, his tongue slipping and flicking against every sensitive part it can find. The wet, obscene slurping sounds echo in the kitchen, louder than the soft hum of the cooling stove. The way his tongue dives deeper and deeper, teasing you, even circling before trapping your swollen little bud between his lips.
“Ahhh—Hee—fuck—” your moan cracks as your knees threaten to buckle, and you grab the counter for balance, your free hand gripping his hair like a lifeline.
“Like it?” he murmurs against your cunt, lips brushing your clit, voice vibrating against your folds—sending shockwaves through your whole body.
“So much, so fucking much,” you pant out, tugging at his hair harder, grounding yourself against the overwhelming sensation of his tongue exploring places you never even thought were reachable.
“Mmhh—” he hums, sucking harder, his hands holding your thighs apart as if to cage you there, rubbing your lower stomach like he knows something’s building inside you. The pressure makes you dizzy, your muscles clenching, your core tightening uncontrollably.
“Wait—stop, I feel like I’m… gonna—piss,” you whimper, tugging at his hair to make him stop, but he only groans and pins you harder against the counter, tongue delving in even deeper.
The cry that rips out of you is helpless, raw, trembling, “HEESEUN—GHAHHHH!” as your body jerks violently, liquid spilling from your cunt, dribbling down your thighs, coating his tongue, his lips, his chin.
He doesn’t stop—he fucking drinks it in, swallowing, slurping like it’s everything he’s ever wanted.
When he finally pulls back, his lips and chin glisten with wetness, strands of your slick shining over his mouth. Your face burns with embarrassment, heart pounding.
“Heeseung…” your voice trembles, mortified.
“You did this,” he murmurs, smirking faintly, wiping nothing away—almost proud to wear you like this. “Why’re you getting so shy now?” His voice is low, teasing, but his own cheeks are flushed as if he’s losing control too.
He rises to his feet, closing the distance until his hands cradle your face, and before you can answer, his mouth claims yours.
The kiss is messy, deep, his tongue sliding against yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, the musky, salty-sweet flavor mingling with the heat of his mouth. Dirty. Intoxicating. The thought that you’re tongue-kissing the same mouth that was just devouring your pussy should disgust you—but instead it makes you moan, arching closer, needing more.
Your fingers grip his shoulders desperately, ready to climb him, ready for more, when he suddenly pulls back, panting. His forehead presses against yours, his eyes dark, burning, but flickering with restraint.
“I—We should eat dinner,” he murmurs, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as though he’s choking back desire. “If we don’t stop now, I don’t think either of us will…”
His voice trails, his jaw tightening, and the way he looks at you—hungry, guilty, desperate—you know he’s right. Still, you can’t stop the way your body aches for more, already addicted.
You just nod, breathless, even as your lips tingle from his kiss, even as your thighs tremble from what he just made you feel.
⪩⪨
The days ahead pass in a haze of exhaustion. The tablets the helper-robos keep giving—supposedly to boost stamina and fertility before the expiration date—do nothing but drag you both down into constant drowsiness. You feel sluggish, heavy-limbed, and so does he.
“Hee…” you call out softly, voice almost drowned by the silence of the room as you lay curled on your side. The bed is warm, too warm, and the setup is so real, so home-like, that sometimes you forget you’re in nothing but a lab—a carefully constructed stage meant to look like a house, a controlled mating ground for humans.
“Mm?” he hums back, voice thick with sleep. His arm is already reaching around your waist, palm lazily tracing circles against your stomach. His touch is slow, unhurried, and even in your drained state, it makes you melt closer to him. The blanket shifts as he tugs it tighter around the two of you, cocooning you together.
“Don’t you feel tired…? I swear the tablets have something to do with this…” you murmur, eyes heavy as you press your forehead into his chest. He hums again, the sound low, reassuring, and kisses the top of your head. The simple gesture stirs something deep in your chest, not sexual—just a strange, foreign warmth you can’t name.
“I feel like that too… but maybe it’s not bad,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. “We get to rest before the big day.” His arms tighten around you, his lips brushing against your hair, and the closeness makes your heart race even more.
“True…” you whisper back, though the thought only makes your stomach twist. The idea of him finally ending up bonded to you forever—sealed, unchangeable—sends your pulse spiraling.
“Do you regret it?” you ask quietly, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his t-shirt, gripping like you’re bracing for a blow. “Like… do you wish it was someone else?”
His chest rises beneath your cheek, and then he answers, soft but steady. “No. Definitely not.”
You exhale shakily, relief washing over you like warmth after a chill. He shifts, rocking you slightly in his hold, and the gentle sway lulls you further. Your eyes flutter shut despite yourself, exhaustion tugging hard.
“Good,” you mumble, your words slurring into a yawn. His chest rumbles with a stifled laugh—careful, quiet, as if he’s afraid to wake you. Soon his movements slow, stilling completely, and with you curled tightly against him, both of you sink into sleep almost instantly.
⪩⪨
The robo beeps as the government officers run the analysis of their relationship on a monitor. At least they’re decent enough not to watch them go at it—oral or otherwise. Honestly, the robots seem to have more humanity than the humans in charge.
“But their relationship doesn’t seem genuine according to this article on human connections in the 2720s,” the robot pipes up, printing out the dusty old document almost immediately. The words flash across the paper, outdated theories that make no sense when matched with the sounds the two of them have been making almost every other night since they were placed together. Noises that had gotten loud enough for the officials to drug them just to slow things down.
“We can’t rely on old articles. Not right now,” the officer mutters, shutting down the live camera feed that showed the humans inside the mock-home setup. His tone is clipped, tired, like he doesn’t want to deal with it.
The helper robo tilts his head, a mechanical sigh almost leaving him before he shakes it off. “Why bother helping when those bastards don’t even need it,” he grumbles, following the officer out of the room.
After all, tomorrow is the final day before their fertility expiration date. And the others have already prepared everything they’ll need.
⪩⪨
You yawn as you wake, stretching your arms above your head—only to find you can’t move. It takes you a moment to realize why. Heeseung’s arm is still looped around your waist. By the time he finally stirs and pulls back, sitting up, the air feels noticeably colder. Without thinking, he dives straight back under the covers, wrapping himself around you beneath the heavy blanket.
“Too cold, too cold,” he mutters through gritted teeth. His body trembles against yours, and instinctively, you shove your feet back under the blanket too after testing the icy air outside for just a second.
“Did the temperature suddenly drop?” you shiver, pressing closer to him for warmth. That’s when you feel it—his bulge, hard against your thigh.
Your breath hitches. “Why are you hard?” The words slip out before you can stop them, awkward and quiet, as you try to shift just enough distance between you in case it sets him off.
“What do you mean, why?” Heeseung mumbles with a shrug, completely unbothered. “I get this every time I wake up.” Then, seeing the way you go silent, lost in thought, he adds quickly, “But don’t think too much. We don’t have to do anything if you’d rather wait until night.”
You hesitate, chewing on your bottom lip before whispering, “N-no… I mean… a little practice before the actual process wouldn’t hurt, right?”
His eyes widen, shock flickering before his lips curl into a slow smile. The officials’ forced temperature drop is long forgotten as you push your panties down, sliding them off. Heeseung doesn’t waste a second—his boxers end up on the floor beside your panties, leaving nothing between you anymore.
Your upper bodies stayed hidden under the blanket, but your lower halves were already speaking a language of their own. You hooked one leg over his hip, opening yourself for him, and Heeseung’s hand immediately wrapped around his cock. The blanket muffled the sight, but you felt every second of it—the head nudging against your folds, still dry until he pressed harder. Wetness bloomed instantly, coating you in slick warmth as he rubbed himself against your slit.
A broken moan escaped you, and he swallowed it in a kiss. You barely noticed when he shifted lower, sliding the tip between your folds, teasing that sensitive bundle of nerves—the very same spot he’d played with that night while you’d been making fried rice. And then he pushed. Hard. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, but his mouth captured yours, muffling the sound, calming you down even as your body jolted.
He groaned against your lips. “God, so tight.” Your walls clung to him, greedy, swallowing inch after inch of his cock like they’d never let go. You trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the texture of his thick length, every ridge and vein dragging against you.
Your eyes rolled back as your body adjusted, the stretch almost unbearable. He stilled, hovering, his forehead pressed to yours as he whispered, voice low and careful, “Should I give more?” His lips brushed yours in a tender kiss, at odds with the way he filled you.
You squirmed helplessly beneath him, body caught between resistance and desperate want. It hurt—yes—but it felt so good you almost hated yourself for liking it this much.
“Ahhh—” you bury your face into his chest, shivering as he rubs your back, one hand sliding lower to part your ass cheeks. His coarse pubic hairs brush against yours, and you know you’re in heaven just from the friction, the closeness.
“Oh god…” you moan, a tear slipping down your cheek as he starts to move, nudging against your walls. “It’s too good… too good.”
“I know… shh…” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers graze your hard bud, flicking and rubbing your clit between your legs, and you shiver with every brush. He hits a spot inside you you didn’t even know existed, sending tremors up your spine.
Before you even notice, sleep drags you under again, pressed against his chest. The tablets are hitting harder than before, and he—already drained from the night—is dozing too, quietly, yet his hand remains wrapped around you, fingers caressing your hair. His cock pulses lazily inside you, still hard, a slow reminder of what you’ve shared.
Neither of you gets to cum. Not yet. The robots arrive, silently entering to re-decorate the room for the night, ignoring the way the two of you are tangled together like an actual married couple, lost in warmth, wetness, and the closeness only you two can share.
⪩⪨
When you wake up, it’s night. Heeseung is sprawled across the bed, completely naked, the blanket long gone from over your bodies. The dim lights and the faint scent of roses fill the room, creating a staged intimacy that screams final breeding night. Your stomach twists with heat and self-consciousness as your eyes take him in—every line of his muscles defined in the soft glow, the way his chest rises and falls slowly, the way his cock rests low and exposed, just waiting.
“Hee… wake up,” you whisper, rolling onto his side and nudging him gently. He doesn’t stir. Your hand slides lower, brushing against the softened length of his cock—and to your shock, it stiffens instantly in your palm. Your fingers wrap around him, rubbing along the slick shaft, feeling the heat, the pulse, the way he’s so alive beneath your touch.
Heeseung stirs, eyes half-open, still lost in the fog of sleep. Boldness courses through you, and you start stroking him thoroughly, biting your lip as your own audacity surprises you.
“S-stop…” he murmurs sleepily, voice rough, half-lidded eyes fixing on you. His hand pushes your palm away, but instead of letting go, he pins you gently to the bed. His cock presses against your stomach, tip glistening with precum, and you shiver from the warmth and pressure.
“How did we even fall asleep?” you murmur, shivering as he leans down and plants a teasing kiss on your neck. His mouth starts suckling, teeth grazing lightly over your skin, and a moan escapes you before you even register it.
“W-why does it feel soo good?” you breathe, voice trembling. His lips and tongue are consuming you, sending shivers down your spine, teasing you so exquisitely that your own body reacts without thought.
“Don’t ask questions. Just feel… we need to finish why we’re here, right? So we can go out and raise our baby,” he whispers against your neck, and your face melts into his hair, overwhelmed. You’re so lost in him that you don’t even notice when his tip presses and slides against your folds, gliding perfectly over your wet, slick skin.
You wrap your legs around his waist almost instinctively, every nerve in your body on fire. You don’t know where you learned this, but it feels right. This fertility expiration, this ridiculous breeding contract—it’s finally ending, and Heeseung is the only one who could make it feel like this.
“You really wanna raise the baby togeth—aghh!” A moan rips from your chest as he slips inside you effortlessly. Your body trembles at the stretch, chest heaving, eyes wide as you feel him fully—every inch of his thick, veiny cock filling you. God, it’s too good. How could something feel this right? You had no regrets about coming here, even if it had been forced.
When he moves, it’s like you’re falling straight into heaven. “Oh my… oh my god… ahhhh…” you gasp, gripping his shoulders, trying to ground yourself as every thrust presses him deeper, pushing all your limits of pleasure.
“Shh… gently… I’ll go gentle.” And he does. Heeseung starts slow, bottoming out fully, checking in with soft murmurs. But soon, the tempo builds, and he’s plunging deeper, too deep for your brain to catch up. Your body reacts before your mind, muscles clenching, and you can’t stop the first squirting eruption that floods against his pulsing cock.
Your eyes lock with his—burning with embarrassment—but he’s unfazed, so present, so attentive. God, what a man. And then he hits that same spot again, and your second gush coats him, your palm flying to your face, cheeks flaming. Minutes pass in a blur of trembling, slick, overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes roll back as you come hard, walls squeezing him like they never could before, every shudder wringing a guttural curse from his lips.
“Fuck… too tight…” he groans, cock pulsing violently inside you. Before either of you can process it, he erupts—hot, thick, sticky—filling you completely.
“I—” you start, but he pins you gently, eyes fluttering as his release surges. “J-just take all of my seeds…” His chest heaves on yours, some of it dribbling down your slit, proof of how much he’s given. It’s like he poured out weeks of stored need into you.
“Enough to make another human in the community?” he gasps, breathless, thumb brushing away a stray tear of pleasure from your cheek. His head rests against your chest, listening to your rapid heartbeat.
“Those tablets by robos better work,” you whisper, arm wrapping around his waist as you gently shift atop him. His cock still pulses inside you, leaking little drops, making you laugh and moan all at once. Every inch of you is slick, spent, alive—and you can’t imagine ever feeling this way with anyone else.
⪩⪨
“This one’s complete. Who’s the next pair for the human breeding contract?” the government officer asked, his voice flat but his eyes lingering on the glowing monitor. The feed showed the two of you tangled together in the aftermath—naked, bodies spent, still joined at the hips as though refusing separation even in sleep. For a moment, the officer simply stared, a flicker of discomfort crossing his otherwise stoic face before he looked back at the machine beside him.
The robot’s optical sensors whirred as it adjusted the angle, zooming in without hesitation on the mess between your thighs, where Heeseung’s cock remained buried inside you, a faint spill of his cum already leaking past your swollen folds. It held there for a beat, scanning, before its voice rang metallic and certain. “Based on the administered fertility tablets, probability of conception is at one hundred percent. The female has been successfully bred.”
The officer exhaled slowly, almost relieved, then leaned back in his chair. “Good. Another pair. Humanity lives another day.”
The robot didn’t stop processing. Its gaze shifted across its databanks, and a new name filtered onto the screen. “The next subject approaching fertility expiration: Park Sunghoon. Male. Age twenty-three. Behavioral report: reclusive. Rarely leaves residence.”
The officer raised a brow, a dry smirk tugging at his lips. “So, one of those ‘touch grass’ types?”
The robot made a noise that could almost be mistaken for amusement. The officer chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for his notes. “Guess he won’t have much of a choice soon. Get him paired. Humanity’s down to scraps—we can’t afford a single wasted seed.”
And with that, the two of them turned back to the monitors, logging another successful breeding while already preparing for the next. After all, humans were a rare species now—too fragile, too precious—and extinction was not an option.
"Just sit on it." He speaks, loud and clear, unmistakable yet, you hesitate. Not because you don't want to but... "What if you can't breathe? What if I kill you-? What if I-.. Oh fuck~."
"I'd die a happy man baby.." Heeseung mutters out from under you, his lips pressing between your legs. He's pulled you down on him, right over his face. Hands on your thighs, his silver rings cooling on the skin yet leaving an imprint as well.
"Rub yourself on my nose baby, fuck, please." He mutters again, darting his tongue out to get a taste of just how wet you are for him, he pushes his face into you even more, making sure his beautiful sharp nose presses into your clit, the friction, his voice.. It almost undoes you right there. Your body clenches around nothing as your lips part in a moan.
Your hands tangle in his hair as he moves you, skilled hands pulling, pushing, guiding you to ride his face and rub yourself on his nose, his tongue lapping around your opening, even pushing slightly inside, making your eyelids flutter. Your hands desperately pull at his dark blonde strands. "That's it.. Let me make you come.. Fuck, let me feel it." Heeseung's hips lift a little. He can feel it, he feels his cock twitch, his boxers already wet with pre-cum in desperation, but making himself feel good is the last thing on his mind, he knows when you get there, he's gonna come in his pants.
Your hips begin to move on their own, the knot in your stomach tightening with his tongue prodding and pushing, he rubs his nose into your clit harder, inhales a little, he's gone for you.
"Hee.. Heeseung~.. I'm.. I'm.. I'm gonna fucking cum~." You mewl, hands tugging at the strands.
"That's.. That's it my perfect girl, let go for me.. Hm? Make a mess of my face~." His hips buck again as you let go. Your thighs shake, locking his head between them a little tighter, he's exactly where he wants to be. Smile on his lips, face burried into your pussy as deep as he can get. The man grips your legs tight, rings digging in harder, leaving marks as he groans from deep within his throat, he comes too. Like a fucking teenager, coming in his pants because his girl is fucking his face.
the sweet, little voice erupts through the silence in the living room, and heeseung’s entire world shifts to the left. “w—what did you say, princess?”
he must have heard it wrong, right?
“boyfren,” but his cute little daughter repeats in a wobbly pronunciation with doe eyes blinking at him— he doesn’t know whether to awe at her cuteness or cry himself to insanity.
his hands are shaking, chest hurting, breath fainting— this is his worst nightmare. she looks like the cutest thing, looking at him, and heeseung looks like his soul has left his body.
he’s now crouching at her feet, taking her hands in his big, gentle ones ever so carefully. “princess, do you know what a boyfren is?”
“someone who shares chocolates and colours with you!” and she sounds so innocent, it’s melting his heart.
she sounds so excited at the thought of sharing chocolates— heeseung would have been the happiest dad in the world if his daughter hadn’t been so happy at the thought of sharing chocolates with a...boy. ( who is supposedly her boyfriend )
he thinks for a second, she is not all wrong. heeseung tried hitting on you by buying you your favourite snacks too and guess what, you’re his wife now. he scoffs internally, that little guy has got game.
and heeseung has never been the one to give up. “that’s...not what a boyfriend is,”
“yes, it is! he even says i’m pretty!” she insists, beaming the mention of being called pretty and he scowls at the thought of someone hitting on his little girl.
he holds her hand a little tighter, smiling softly. calling someone pretty is no big deal. “i say that too, and so does mama,”
a victorious smile makes way to his lips at her silence. maybe, she isn’t thinking about the boyfriend anymore— not like he’s special. heeseung can call her pretty all day if she wants.
a soft mumble. “does a kissie count?” and it feels like a bomb has been dropped on heeseeung.
you’re laughing at the horror written on his face from across the kitchen while baking cookies, but it’s nothing as bad as his dear daughter having a boyfriend.
he gulps, slow, freaking out internally. “...a what?”
“kissie! here!” and she points a finger at her cheek, smiling like the happiest girl in the world.
he wants to scream at the mental image of some cute little boy kissing his cutest and prettiest little girl’s cheeks.
sure, heeseung was prepared for some dude hitting on his super pretty daughter, but not so soon, especially not when she is four and his enemy is another four year old who is sharing chocolates and colours.
“listen, sweet cakes,” his breath falters, speaking in the nicest way possible without cursing. “boyfriends are bad. boys are bad. they say nice things and then steal your snacks,”
“but he is nice...and he plays with me,” his heart breaks as she frowns, muttering the next words through a pout. “and he says he loves me too!”
boom, third attack.
love— heeseung scoffs. boys these days surely know how to impress a girl.
“yeah but papa loves you the most,” he says, loud and proud, sure as hell no man can ever love her as much as he does.
her lips curve into a small ‘o’ as if taking in his words. it’s not long before she gives him a toothy smile, eyes curving into little crescent. “i love papa the most too!”
she runs to you when you call her name, having forgotten about her loving boyfriend already at the sight of chocolate chip cookies you’re baking.
he shakes his head, making way to the couch— a loud, cheerful voice follows.
“mama, i wanna share cookies with my boyfriend too!”
an abrupt turn at her words, and heeseung crashes out all over again.
bf!heeseung who will absolutely fall asleep between your thighs. with no shame, too, mind you. he’s just always so eepy!! eating you out lulls him right to bed lolol
bf!heeseung who gladly lets you do whatever you want to him. ride his face, grind against his thigh, fuck his fingers, dryhump his cock, etc. just take what you need! he’s happy to please ^^
bf!heeseung who loves your tits. doesn’t matter how big or small they are. he loves them regardless! something about the way the fat spills between his fingers when he kneads them leaves his mouth watering. &&& play with his hair while he sucks on your tits and you’ll have him whining and humping the bed beneath him in minutes.
bf!heeseung who came so hard the first time you cried during sex. he def felt sooo bad and wrong about it :( but the way your mascara ran down your puffy cheeks while you sniffled and reassured him got him hard all over again.
bf!heeseung who has god knows how many videos of you two fucking on his phone. some are short; you jerking and sucking him off, him fucking your tits and cumming on your face. some are long; the two of you fucking like bunnies on the couch, on his bed, on your bed, on hotel beds. hell, he even has one of you two fucking in the living room of his old shared dorm. he needs material for when he’s away, okay!
bf!heeseung who randomly sends you said videos attached to the neediest, sappiest text you’ve ever seen as if he didn’t just send you a literal sextape.
bf!heeseung who’s surprisingly shy about sending nudes at first. i only say surprisingly because he sends the nastiest sexts when he needs you. but don’t worry, expect 5 minute long videos of him jerking off and whining your name once he’s warmed up :)
bf!heeseung who takes his time marking up your neck just for you to cover them up when you go out. he pouts and sulks like a child when you do so, btw.
bf!heeseung who gives the best aftercare. he always makes sure you’re hydrated and cleaned up! whether that be wiping you down with a warm, wet rag or running you a warm bubble bath. regardless, he’s helping you to the bathroom anyways to go pee. he’ll even turn around if you want him to. only when you’re tucked in and sound asleep does he feel comfortable enough knocking out on top of you.
hihi i’m back. i got a lil carried away but once again lmk if anyone wants me to expand on any <3
𓎟† in which student council president, lee heeseung, has a soft spot for you ✶
ㅤSMAU ft. fluff+crack ( #21 ) only4hana
ㅤᲘ𐑼 . . 21062008! && NEWNOTIF
ㅤㅤhit that bell notif! YEOKII DAY NATIONAL HOLIDAY I LOVE TODAY
i love u essiecake essietiramisu u my real day zero and my fave niche unc i love listening to u yap ab ur ideas and also yap in general and ily for always listening to My yaps too we go yap4yap !! i hope 18 treats u well lovely i kiss u lots and lots MUAH >3< !! peep the slight jiwon & dohyeok (best ship) (but essie x yin better) + minkyung from iseop + mana as ningning (brazil soon) + me as yuha (#Lol) + haerin (best girl) cameos +++ (also heeseung doesn't have a pfp on purpose he's just too nonchalant) @yeokii x
