𓍢 ⋆📖⊹ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ you are reading: tamed-dashed (sunoo ver.)
bassist!ksw x manager!reader (smut +18, manly!sunoo pierced!sunoo, reader is +-27). find our 🎤🎸playlist here, and the jay version "where you're older than sunoo and the manager of the band he plays in, but he's dying to have you as something else" wc.: 8.5k author's notes: hiii everyone, im sorry for being so absent. i think everyone is trying to deal with the situation in different ways, and my way is by writing, hoping that this way you guys can also have a moment to clear your head and enjoy it! just know that this blog will always be here to support everyone who is part of enhypen (and fuck what belift is trying to sell), i will always support the seven people who brought me to this present moment. besides all that, this is a collab with my baby girl @yjnwonstars! it was a lot of fun to write (we fr talked hours and hours, plotting everything) and if you show interest, the universe we created for these two one-shots is quite vast and we would love to make a series with the other members hehehe tw.: english is not my first language, lowercase intended, no use of yn, use of legal substances, a lot of cursing, violence (not between them), manhandling, sunoo is a giver, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. rec.), finger fucking, body worship (?), marking, nipple play, lots of praising, pet names (princess, baby), a blink of voyeurism (by accident), LET ME KNOW IF I FORGET ANYTHING
the atmosphere at dead circuit was a symphony of auditory chaos. the sound of drumsticks being tested against the drumheads echoed like gunshots, the feedback from guitar amplifiers sliced through the air with a sharp, irritating hiss, and the murmur of the crowd outside - a sea of anxious young people, some completely high or drunk - leaked through the wooden walls like an animalistic roar.
but kim sunoo heard none of it.
leaning back against one of the worn black speakers, he was immersed in his own bubble of selective silence. it was a survival skill he had practiced since he was 13, when his parents’ bitter arguments during the divorce became the playlist of his adolescence. if he didn’t want to hear it, the world simply went mute.
his slender, pale fingers plucked at the bass strings with a melancholic slowness, pulling out the notes of 505 by arctic monkeys. sunoo didn’t like punk rock that much. he found the genre’s aggression too loud most of the time, too heavy, too obvious. he preferred melodies that floated, that had space to breathe, to discern what was worth it. but he was there, earning his five hundred bucks a night, because jay, heeseung, and the drummer had convinced him years ago with promises of creative freedom and zero stress.
liars. he knew they were, but he went along with it anyway.
jay and the drummer were a walking war zone, like two primed grenades about to explode together. heeseung was a predator of other people’s hearts with no intention of commitment. sunghoon, the sound technician, was the most handsome and most boring guy he had ever met. and then there was you.
the only piece that wasn’t dirty or explosive. you were his center of gravity. that day, years ago, when you were introduced as the manager, sunoo felt like the air in the stuffy garage had finally become breathable; not even the growing mold behind one of the freezers mattered anymore. there was only one problem.
a problem that, right now, was making his super ability to ignore noise fail miserably.
he stopped plucking the strings, the tips of his fingers lightly touching the neck of the instrument to adjust it against his torso. there, in a dark corner behind the heavy stage curtains, where dust danced under the light of a single purple spotlight, he saw you.
you held your phone against your ear so tightly your knuckles were white. your eyes, always so focused and attentive to every detail of the band, were now clouded, filled with water you refused to let fall. he wished it weren’t like this, but he had seen you cry so many times… “i already told you, i don’t want to see you anymore, why is that so hard?” your voice came out in a strained breath, choked, heavy with an exhaustion he felt in his own chest.
sunoo knew the script by heart. he had watched you go through every one of those assholes. the one who asked you for money to fix his car - and took his ex on a trip -, the one who slapped you in front of the whole band and, because you begged, didn’t turn into an urban legend in their hands, the one with no character who dated at least three girls at once, and the current one. the jealous one. the one who made you feel guilty for giving him a ride or staying late at band rehearsals. the one who tried to prune the only thing you loved - this chaotic, real job - to turn you into a shadow under his control.
it’s ridiculous, the boy thought as he watched your tense silhouette, how you take care of four grown, problematic men with one hand behind your back, but fall apart over a man who isn’t worth the sole of your shoe.
you never did anything for yourself. you always gave in. and seeing you there, curled into the dimness while being whipped by words through a screen, made his blood boil.
he stood up from the speaker. the bass, covered in stickers and collages, bumped lightly against his leg, the metallic sound of the chains on his pants clinking with the quick movement. he wasn’t going to interrupt the call - he wasn’t that kind of guy - but he stepped close enough for his presence to be noticed, watching the situation up close.
sunoo was pissed. not at you, but at the way you let the world steal the shine from your eyes. what he really wanted was to take the phone from your hand and crush it under his heavy boot, but instead, he just stood there, black leather wristbands tight around his wrists, waiting for the moment you would finally hang up so he could, once again, try to convince you that you deserved far more than scraps of attention and empty threats.
“i can’t keep this going, i’m sorry… i- have to go” you stated, your voice coming out shaky and rushed, unsure if it matched what your heart wanted.
as soon as you pulled the device away from your ear, a final “you bitch, if you-” slipped through the speaker, an aggressive sound stain that was abruptly silenced when you pressed the red button on the screen. the silence that followed wasn’t peaceful, but heavy.
when you turned, you startled slightly, your tense body bumping into the heavy curtain as you saw sunoo standing there, like a silent sentinel watching you. you swallowed hard, feeling the knot in your throat, and forced an awkward smile as you quickly wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands, trying to dry the tears that insisted on falling.
“hey…” you sniffled, trying to regain your manager composure, offering a small smile.
“i thought you had blocked his number” sunoo said soberly.
he didn’t need to show his anger toward you, didn’t need to gesture sharply; he was different from everything you knew. he rarely got angry, and never took it out on you, but there was a coldness in his voice that cut deeper than any shout.
“he called me from another number” you lied, your voice still a little shaky.
sunoo pressed his lips together, the metal beads of his snake bites glinting under the dim light. he pretended to buy the lie, raising one eyebrow and nodding slowly, but his eyes - a hazel tone so intense and focused it made you feel immersed - said he knew exactly that you still left the door slightly open for your own tormentor.
“you don’t have to stay on the line until the end… you don’t have to listen to the things he says to you” he continued, his voice softening a little, but still carrying a restrained urgency.
you sighed and took a step toward him, offering that condescending smile the boy hated so much. it was your “you’re cute, but you don’t understand how things work” smile. to him, it felt like you were placing him back on the souvenir shelf, labeling him as the boy from the band, too young to know anything beyond his bass and ripped jeans.
you reached out and touched his dark strands. the gesture was instinctive, feeling the texture of the gel that made some tips more spiked, contrasting with the softness of the rest of his hair. “it suits you…” you commented, trying to change the subject, your eyes scanning his look. “even if those wristbands are a bit much…”
sunoo lowered his gaze to his own wrists, the black leather and spikes seeming heavy under your gentle touch. “i’ll take them off mid-show, they get in the way when i play” he replied simply, his voice almost a whisper.
“i know…”
and with those two words, you got away. once again, you skirted the edge of the abyss. you used your bright eyes and your sweet voice that acted like a sedative on his instincts. you passed by him, the soft scent of your shampoo leaving a trail that contrasted with the moldy smell of the place, and he let out a quiet laugh, a bitter sound that died in his chest as he watched you walk away to organize the chaos you preferred to face: the band’s.
he remained still, lost in the realization that you cared about every technical detail, but didn’t care to save yourself.
reality only hit again when heeseung showed up, tapping his shoulder with a heavy palm.
“five minutes” the vocalist announced, his voice vibrating with pre-show adrenaline. “i’m going to call the lovebirds in the dressing room. and you’re coming with me, i’m not dealing with any unwanted scenes alone” heeseung practically dragged him, making him roll his eyes.
***
sunoo bit down on one of the piercing balls at the corner of his lip and adjusted the bass strap on his neck in a shared nervousness before stepping on stage; his fingers opened and closed, clenching into fists, and he laughed when the drummer nudged his shoulder lightly before the curtains opened. whenever they were about to perform, they looked like the same four high school teenagers about to compete in their first talent show; it was bizarre, because what they did up there was definitely not appropriate for fifteen-year-old boys.
the led lights cut through the darkness, turning the thick oxygen into geometric, disoriented beams that lashed over the crowd and the instruments. jay’s first chord wasn’t just a note: it was a wail, a low, long, distorted sound that seemed to vibrate straight through the old wooden floor beneath their feet. the smoke from the machines rose slowly, wrapping around the boys’ legs and making the scene look like a mirage, something ethereal and disturbed, the kind you have in a bad trip.
there was that second of absolute silence. the four exchanged quick glances, one last silent check-in. heeseung stepped forward - his loose tank top already slipping dangerously off one shoulder, exposing a sweaty clavicle before the effort even began - he smiled. “we are the tamed-dashed…” his voice started contained, a secret shared through the mic, only to explode into a roar that made the walls shake:
“AND WE ARE HERE TO BURN THIS PLACE DOWN!!!”
the chaos was instant. the tap-tap of the drumsticks gave the signal and, on the fourth count, they dove into smells like teen spirit.
sunoo felt the impact in his chest. for him, that was the only moment when noise didn’t truly bother him. on stage, being loud was a virtue; screaming was a right. completely different from his calm, almost untouchable demeanor. his fingers chased each note with surgical precision, the tuned bass vibrating against his pelvis like a pulsing open artery.
he always went numb. feeling, up there, became just another vital function, like his heavy breathing and the pounding of his racing heart. he closed his eyes, bringing his full lips close to the microphone for backing vocals - a rough caress exchanged between his skin and the fibrous surface - harmonizing with the main voice in tones that sent shivers down your spine all the way from the sound booth.
far from sounding impartial, but it was incredible how he transformed. the mannerisms, the parted lips, the fingers sliding along the neck of the instrument as if they could carve through any path they touched, pressing the strings with perfect pressure, the ridiculously long lashes that stood out when he closed his eyes to sing a more melodramatic part… your cheeks burned and you were grateful no one else noticed in the poor lighting.
that song was cruel, it meant a lot to sunoo, who somehow had never hidden from anyone, yet was still rarely truly seen. like a sea that holds so much and can be calm at the shore, but turbulent the deeper you allow yourself to sail. sunoo slowly turned his feet, facing the back of the stage, toward you.
and he knew hundreds of eyes were devouring him, but he was only searching for one pair.
he locked onto you there in the half-light, your hair tied in a messy bun exposing your nape to the suffocating heat, holding a clipboard against your chest as if it could give you any extra stability, or maybe you just wanted to protect yourself, which was just another illusion your brain crafted for you. you bit your lower lip hard, a habit that betrayed that beneath the proper manager facade, your heart beat to the dirty rhythm of his bass; you just didn’t know it yet.
“a denial, a denial…” he hissed, eyes locked with your figure. those honey-colored orbs dancing over your expression to the point it made you swallow hard. you were in denial.
he wanted to provoke you. he wanted you to see there was nothing he couldn’t be, regardless of the age difference or your mistaken beliefs about him. sunoo was dying to have you.
when the band transitioned into dirty diana, heeseung approached him from behind - loose hips, eyes carrying a mischievous expression that said only one thing - his quick, sly hands sliding over sunoo’s torn shirt. the girls in the front row went into a frenzy, screaming and shoving each other to get closer to the stage.
the two smiled in complicity; sunoo tilted his head back, resting it on his friend’s shoulder, a crooked smile playing on his reddened lips as the other slipped his hand under the fabric, lifting the tank top and exposing the kim’s slim abdomen to the hysterical crowd. the boy mimicked a hoarse, dragged-out moan that barely made it through the mic, but it was enough for your fingers to tighten against the clipboard and your stomach to twist. you shouldn’t feel like that about the youngest in the band, not when you were nearing your late twenties and he was just starting; in fact, you never dated younger dudes. sunoo wanted to say you were missing out on some fun.
“i’ll be your night lovin’ thing, the freak you can taunt…” they sang together, faces dangerously close. heeseung left a quick peck on his cheek before they pulled apart laughing, as if nothing had happened.
sunoo looked at you through the smoke and flashing lights once again in a silent challenge, a deliberate promise. he was turned on by the music, by the attention, but mostly by the way you couldn’t look away, even when your body tensed; why did you lie to yourself so much? he didn’t want to hear about stupid guys calling you at night anymore, didn’t want to see you showing up to rehearsals with marks on your arms and wrists saying you burned yourself on some damn kettle. sunoo desperately wanted to fill the space you tried to patch with those sorry excuses for men and show you what it meant to be a real one.
he was so desperate that he would probably confess right there in the damn show if his bandmates didn’t have other plans for the night. after two songs without stopping, they were electric, adrenaline making up for the lack of air in their lungs and the burning stage lights. heeseung played around with the crowd for a bit, something about the purple-haired girl with gothic makeup meeting him after the show - and her friends if they wanted too - while the others drank water and recovered.
the vocalist let out a few melismas repeating the last verse of the previous song and sunoo briefly joined in, earning a glance from him at the front. slender fingers hovered over the neck of the bass before he gently pulled the melody, pushing the invitation into the air for the next song: no feelings.
an a low and clean, vibrating through the amplifier. the note repeated as he steadied his hand. fingers slid along the length, finding the next note: g, strong and dirty. no rush, feeling each sound wave individually passing through his flesh.
his skilled hand stroked the bass up to the fifth fret, letting a d ring out continuously. the notes seemed to shift the frequency between them. the brunette watched jongseong unbutton his shirt one button at a time, loosening the tie hanging from his neck even more, stomping his foot and joining the sound that was soon invaded by the bratty noise of his guitar.
the drummer got the message and came in right after, making one of the cymbals ring out. not a normal ring, but an aggressive one that could only mean she was furious. just like sunoo had said before… two sticks of dynamite about to explode.
and sunoo repeated with more intent, more hunger: a, g, d, a. and within seconds the intensity burst through the bar and the song began.
that had been their first song, one that for many years had made sense to sunoo. he liked who he was. the roughness of the lyrics made them feel enraged, and the performance turned into a chaotic mess of bodies crashing in the mosh pit forming on the floor. on stage, one trying to outshine the other without abandoning what was written. the boy laughed when he saw jay kneeling near the edge of the stage and bit his lower lip watching girls scratch at his now bare chest - and apparently one even slipped her number into his jeans -, rolling his eyes when heeseung paused the lyrics just to let out an “oh shit” at the sight, “we’re about to get fucking wiiild”.
and they did. near the end of the song, the drummer abandoned her post and climbed onto the stool, drawing everyone’s attention as she pulled off her shirt, left only in a lace bra.
sunoo stared at you from there, seeing your parted lips, the look of someone who loved control about to lose it completely. he felt a shiver run down his spine, increasing the intensity with which he struck the strings.
last song. jongseong was furious. with a scratch running from his chest down toward his pelvis and a pink paper sticking out of his pants, he had no right to complain - ah, sunoo believed in equal rights - but the park was even more pissed because now the vocalist was acting like a dog in heat while singing suck my kiss, staring at the fiery drummer.
you whispered something to sunghoon, who only nodded, doubtful he had actually heard. as the song reached its end, the inevitable began to take shape. but it was worse.
the drummer fully abandoned the kit, tossing her sticks into the crowd before walking over to the vocalist and kissing him. a hungry kiss that meant many things, and not necessarily that they liked each other.
holy shit.
jay was about to tear heeseung apart. on the last chord, everything snapped. the park pulled the guitar off his body and threw it to the ground carelessly, stepping toward the taller one and grabbing him by the collar - making the girl nearby stumble back - like two fighting dogs. and sunoo clicked his tongue, carefully removing his bass, slipping the strap over his head and resting it against a speaker before moving toward them, shoving his arm between the two. “you guys really”
the argument was heated. not that it was anything new, since the guitarist had a reputation for yelling and fighting over anything, but no one was helping. “what are you? a fucking dog?!” jongseong growled through clenched teeth, gripping the dyed linen fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white. “since you can’t satisfy your fucking girlfriend” the other shot back with a mocking smile, grabbing his wrists to stop him from doing anything else. a general commotion broke out, from you stepping forward to thank the crowd for coming see the show to sunghoon pulling the curtains shut on his own. sunoo held heeseung by the shoulders and pulled him back while the sound tech wrapped his arms around the guitarist’s torso, separating them. “stop this stupidity for fuck’s sake!” sunoo muttered when the lee was about to throw in another provoking line.
***
when they finally managed to reach the hallway that led to the dressing rooms, literally crammed into the narrow passage, sunoo was still holding onto heeseung, positioning himself in front of him and trying to stop his bandmate from pointing or yelling back at the insults coming from the guitarist. behind him, sunghoon and the drummer blocked the way of a frowning jongseong, his neck flushed red with anger. “hee, fuck off. stop provoking, he’s already mad” the shorter one said, pushing heeseung forward so he’d keep walking.
“c’mon park! you called me a dog before but it’s YOU who can’t decide if you leave or bite the bone!” and just like that, with a detestable little laugh, the vocalist slipped out of sunoo’s grip and headed in the opposite direction of jay and the rest of the crew, weaving through a few staff members and disappearing in seconds, probably going after some skirt, since stirring up all that chaos clearly hadn’t been enough.
they walked into the dressing room with the guitarist, and the first thing to go flying was the red lamp near one of the mirrors, which he punched just as hard. both actions producing a sharp crash of shattering glass. sunghoon watched the situation with his arms crossed, trying to speak over jay’s shouting, while the drummer threw herself onto the small couch in the stuffy room like someone used to it - despite the annoyed look - and she was, in theory. everyone there had witnessed one of his outbursts at some point.
but it was when you rushed into the dressing room, clumsy and asking about the “boys” that sunoo acted. your first instinct was always to try and talk, of course, but jay didn’t work like that. sunoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you mid-step, catching the alarmed look on your face when you turned to him. “yeah, princess, you’re not doing this” he said simply, pulling you along and making you toss that useless clipboard onto the console by the door. “dude?” he heard sunghoon mutter in disbelief as they left the man alone with the chaos. “you can make it, big guy”
you pressed your lips together, glancing back as the sound of things breaking continued. you knew exactly who the band members were, but wasn’t it your responsibility to step in when they clashed? it wasn’t like your job was just booking shows and collecting payments. “wait, sunoo, i have to-”
“no, you don’t.”
“but-” and then sunoo stopped as you resisted his grip, only for your movements to slow as his honey-colored eyes weighed on your figure; your protests faded, your expression softening as your heart skipped a few beats.
sunoo’s hand slid from your wrist to your fingers, making you intertwine them with his as you followed him without question. you didn’t even know where he was taking you, but after about five minutes of walking, you ended up outside, in the parking lot behind the bar.
the cold air of the early morning contrasted with the warmth of your skin, which had just been trapped in a suffocating room dealing with the explosive anger of a 24yo. you bit your lower lip, feeling that your thin dress shirt wasn’t enough to stop the chill from raising goosebumps, or maybe it was the fact that even out there, the kim still hadn’t let go of your hand. you looked down at where he held your fingers so tightly, flushing at the thought, stumbling over your words when sunoo turned to you again.
“what were you thinking, trying to calm him down??” he asked, and you parted your lips slightly. “i just… didn’t want him to break more things or hurt someone - or himself” you answered quietly.
“you know he’s an adult, right? if he breaks something, he’ll use his own pay to fix it. if he has a problem, he’s the one who has to deal with it” the brunette said, watching you look away and rub the back of your neck with your free hand. always avoidant. sunoo studied you a bit longer before stepping closer, lifting your chin so you’d look at him. “i’m being dead serious right now. why is it so difficult? why are you always trying to handle things alone?” he asked, his plump lips slightly wet, catching the glow of the nearby streetlights.
you chose not to answer, just held his gaze for longer than it felt safe. you hated when you couldn’t read him, when you didn’t know what he was really thinking. it was easier with the others, who saw you more like an older sister or a babysitter. the muffled noise of shouting and the next band starting up drifted from inside, and you should’ve gone back to talk to the organizers about booking another date, but the boy in front of you showed no sign of letting you go anytime soon.
you walked toward the parked cars, where he finally let go, watching you sit on one of the low concrete dividers while he pulled out a pack and a lighter from his pocket. he lit it and took a deep drag, looking up as he slowly exhaled, watching the smoke dissolve into the air before turning to you and holding it out in offering. you accepted - even though it was just a leftover habit from your teenage years - brushing his fingers lightly as you took it. you sighed before bringing it to your lips and inhaling. sunoo watched, biting one of the balls of his lip piercing. “what?” you asked quietly.
“nothing… you look good like this…” he shrugged. your hair was crap, your blazer lost somewhere in the earlier chaos, the first two buttons of your shirt undone, the thin fabric revealing the black lace underneath. your eyeliner was smudged from sweat and time, and your lips were bare. “messy?” you laughed softly, taking another drag before handing it back. “real. human…” he shot back with a shrug, and silence settled between you.
it was awkward when he sounded like the most grounded one. it stirred something in your stomach you didn’t want to name.
sunoo took the cigarette but flicked it away, sending the butt flying until it hit the ground and died out, then walked over and sat beside you.
he crossed his arms, staring at the half-paved ground while you tried not to glance at him sideways. “i wanted to talk…” he started, his voice unsteady in a way that wasn’t like him, and you already knew what was coming. “sunoo… i don’t think we should…” you replied quickly, parting your lips as you prepared to stand, but he grabbed your arm again. this time almost pleading. “so that’s it? you’re just going to act like all of this is normal? the responsibilities you take on, the people you get involved with…” he spoke fast, trying to make you listen. and now it wasn’t about the band. and you knew he was right. deep down, it wasn’t that hard to understand but in practice…
“ah… that’s none of your business…” you said, placing your hand over his, still warm despite the cold outside.
“how can this not be?” sunoo narrowed his eyes, frowning as he held onto you.
“what do you know about relationships, sunoo?” you asked with a quiet laugh, a hint of disdain slipping through because for him it was always so easy: going out with boys and girls, no commitment, no attachment. but the words hit harder than you intended.
sunoo looked down, loosening his grip before letting go slowly. “wow… yeah… you might be right. i know nothing. i’m just young and bored and stupid” he said with sarcasm, making you sigh and close your eyes before turning to him, your calming nature not wanting to hurt him. “that’s not what i was sayi-”
he dragged his tongue along his cheek, ignoring your gaze now fixed on him.
“that’s all you’ve been saying since day one” he stood up, continuing, “that i’m too young, that i should enjoy myself while i can, go out, meet people…” he paced back and forth. “but i don’t want to. and when i do, when i sleep with someone, it’s to forget the one person i can’t have. the one person who despises me and makes me wait like fucking time isn’t finite while she gives herself to any bastard who shows up” his voice came out fast and rough, emotions weighing down every syllable as he confessed - not how he had planned - turning to face you, watching your confused expression.
“why can’t you see that? what do i have to do for you to notice me?” he stepped closer again, stopping right in front of you, looking down. “tell me, if i can’t stop loving you, what should i do?” because if you knew so much about feelings, you should have an answer.
and even if there was one - which there wasn’t - you knew he wouldn’t accept it. you looked at his face and reached out, hesitating halfway before touching his shirt and letting your hand slide down until you were playing with the accessories on his belt, looping one of the metal chains around your finger as you wet your lower lip.
it was killing him. your mixed signals, your half-signals, the ones that weren’t even there. even when it wasn’t your intention, everything you did had an almost intoxicating effect on him.
sunoo caught your hand around the chain, and as you lifted your face to look at him, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. they parted, and he slightly opened his mouth, his free hand sliding to your nape, ready to deepen it. the contact sent a shock down from your neck to the base of your spine, making your back arch.
“the hell are you doing?!”
you heard the voice nearby and pulled away abruptly. the boy turned and spotted the slightly hunched figure holding a beer bottle, leaning against a car for balance. your ex. he looked at you once more before fixing his gaze on the man slowly approaching.
and like an automatic response, there you went, stepping in front of him, wiping your mouth and crossing your arms. “what are you doing here?” you asked. the older man wore an open flannel shirt, badly done tattoos across his torso. “you didn’t block me on instagram…” he replied with a weak laugh. “just had to check where the show was, sweetheart” his words dragged out as he staggered. “we need to talk”
“i’m still working.” sunoo felt a vein pulse in his forehead, his fist clenching. of course… you’d give that guy a chance to talk once your shift ended, sure thing.
then the man stopped, a dark smile spreading across his face as he noticed sunoo behind you. “i see… working on what? fucking with teenagers now? i knew you were a slut but damn”. your body tensed so hard your jaw clenched, afraid he’d say something about sunoo that he didn’t deserve to hear.
sunoo watched, his blood slowly boiling. he didn’t even remember the idiot’s name, biting his lip hard enough to taste metal. you stood in front of him, protecting him from something he didn’t need protection from. it didn’t take long before the man stepped closer, raising his hand toward you. but the kim was faster, pulling you back and watching the other stumble, swiping at the air. “i think she made it clear, man. go home” sunoo said seriously. “fu-ckin’ bastard!… or what!? huh? what are you gonna do?!”
the bassist moved you behind him as your ex grabbed his shirt, yanking him - not strong enough to make him move at all, more leaning on him than anything - but unlike him, sunoo didn’t react, just stared with a neutral expression. “go home” he repeated quietly, lifting one eyebrow slightly as the disgusting smell of alcohol hit him.
stubborn, the man holding his collar shifted his gaze to you. “this your new boyfriend, yeah?! that’s why you were fucking leaving? stupid bitch! i should’ve known better!” and just as sunoo realized he was about to spit, his slender hand shot up, grabbing the man by the throat, making him choke and stumble back, coughing toward the ground. “you—gh… piece of shit—!”
and that was it. the moment your ex lunged at him, sunoo grabbed him and punched, hitting his jaw so hard (not intentionally, just pure luck) that he blacked out instantly. his heavy body, a bit bigger than sunoo’s, dropped completely limp to the ground; the nearly empty bottle slipped from his hand, cracking as the last drops spilled out.
it happened so fast that all you had time to do was widen your eyes, hear the dull thud, and pull a shocked expression.
you stepped closer, crouching down beside the man’s body. “fuck, you knocked him out” you said simply, checking his pulse.
he could’ve said it wasn’t intentional, but he didn’t give a single fuck about your ex or any other guy you had mentioned over the past year like a broken record. none of them were worth shit. and the bassist was fed up. when his eyes landed on you leaning over the idiot who had practically lunged to hit you, that was it. the very last straw.
sunoo grabbed you under the arm, pulling you up to your feet and dragging you away from there. you protested. he was doing it again. “sunoo, we can’t just leave him there” you tried to break free this time, more agitated than when he had pulled you out of the dressing room. “stop this”
“sunoo!” you shouted, and he tensed, cracking his neck before stopping and turning to you, bending down and throwing you over his shoulder with ease. not a word as you kept demanding he let you go and call a fucking ambulance.
you heard the van door slide open and within seconds you were tossed onto one of the seats. a van with three rows of worn upholstery besides the driver’s seats, dark tinted windows, completely empty since all the equipment was still inside the warehouse. the door slammed shut again and you lunged at him, struggling, trying to push against his chest without enough strength, without enough intention. “let me out!” you demanded. and he didn’t even consider it. “i’m serious, kim sunoo!”
he knew you weren’t.
sunoo pinned your wrists together behind you and captured your mouth again, hungry, completely possessed. his irritation spilled through his tongue, demanding entry. an entry you gave as he cornered you deeper into the seat, crawling over you, settling between your legs. you scrunched your nose and let out a muffled sound when he bit your lower lip hard before sucking on the soft flesh and returning to the heavy kiss, leaving you no room to breathe. he would kiss you until you understood, kiss you until your body burned so hot your clothes became unbearable, kiss you until you were begging for him.
your head spun. his lips crushed against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth with insistence. saliva mixed, acting like a poison in your system, making you crave more.
when your wrists slipped free from his sweaty grip, it wasn’t to push him away anymore. your fingers tangled into his dark hair, pulling him closer, tilting his head so your mouths could fit better, clashing together, wet sounds and low murmurs echoing inside the van.
sunoo’s hands wrapped around your waist, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, feeling the warm, smooth skin he dreamed about every night.
his restless mouth trailed down, finally letting you catch some air, licking from your chin to your neck, where he turned cruel - not out of intent to tease, but because he was completely gone, acting like you were his first meal in ages - biting into the sensitive skin, sucking hard, leaving marks that would be visible in the morning, and when they faded, he’d mark you again. his hands moved higher, tugging impatiently at the buttons of your shirt that got in his way, pulling it off you and tossing it somewhere onto the floor.
you held onto the back of his neck, eyes squeezing shut lightly when he buried his face between your breasts, cupping them in his hands and pressing them together, breathing you in, practically growling when the sweet scent reached his brain, memorizing it. he lifted his gaze to you as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, pulling one side of your lace bra down and taking your hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking with need.
your thighs tried to press together, but all you could do was squirm, rubbing against his knee as it sank into the seat right there. he noticed, lifting his leg until it pressed against your covered center, applying pressure, a slow back-and-forth that made your eyes roll for the first time that night.
you tried to hold yourself up on one elbow, your other hand still tangled in his soft hair as he easily unclasped your bra, sliding it down, gathering your breasts to take both peaks into his mouth, his tongue slipping between them before sucking as if they were candy. “you’re fucking delicious” he muttered hoarsely, losing himself on it.
“s-shut up…” you mumbled, breathy, making him smirk before scattering kisses across the soft skin, nibbling here and there. he took his time with each breast, sucking hard enough to leave them swollen and sensitive.
he slid down to the van floor, on his knees, gripping your hips and pulling you closer to the edge now. he took off his own shirt, giving you a glimpse of his narrow waist, lean but toned torso, and the sharp pelvic bones that traced a dangerous line into his dark jeans. you wet your lips watching, and he noticed, letting out a low, knowing laugh as his quick fingers worked to unbutton your slacks and slide them down your legs.
sunoo spread your legs and looked, his hardened length twitching when the lace of your underwear was practically swallowed by your folds. you wanted to tell him not to look, turning your face away and pressing your lips together, but he didn’t give you a choice lifting his eyes back to you. “turn around. ass up” his rough voice ordered.
it took you a few seconds to process before you found yourself pathetically doing exactly as he said.
you hugged the back of the seat, pressing your cheek against the headrest, brows knitting when he lightly dragged his nails over your ass, teasing before landing a sharp, unexpected slap that only made you arch further for him; your pussy was outlined against the fabric, every contour visible, and he practically salivated at the sight. the bassist leaned closer, biting into one of the soft curves, sliding the tip of his nose along your skin until his face was buried against you, hovering his mouth over your clothed pussy.
he licked slowly once, from your clit to your back entrance, over the fabric, making your legs tremble. then he pulled your underwear aside with his thumb, watching a thin string of slick stretch.
sunoo brought his free hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before guiding two down to your tight entrance. they slid in embarrassingly easily with how soaked you were. “sssss…” he muttered, starting to pump his digits inside you.
your hands gripped the seat, nails digging into the worn cushioning as you bit your lower lip to hold back your moans, but he wouldn’t allow it. the moment he noticed, he spread and closed his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching you open and making your eyes roll back as a dragged-out whine slipped past your pouty lips.
“don’t hide, princess… i want all of you…” he murmured against the curve of your ass, licking there before leaving a harsh mark. he picked up the pace, adding another finger once your pussy no longer struggled to take them, pushing all three in to the base and curling them inside. “that’s it, baby… doing so well” the praise hit you like a dart to the chest, making your body twitch as your hand instinctively moved between your legs, searching for your clit.
but sunoo didn’t let you as well. the second he saw you trying to ease the pressure, he clicked his tongue and stopped abruptly, pulling a small frustrated sound from you.
he grabbed the seam of your panties and tore the already soaked fabric apart, tossing it somewhere with your shirt, pinning your wrists against your hips. “i didn’t say you could touch yourself either” he snapped, leaning down again, this time using his tongue to fuck your pulsing entrance while his finger moved to your sensitive spot. it was so swollen, so warm, begging for attention.
he pinched it once before rubbing, picking up a fast pace that made you slide against his palm. you bit into the seat, whining, your hips turning erratic, chasing more, arching… your moans had turned into muffled groans. “mmh, so tight… so good” he said against you, mouth full, opening wider to swallow your sex, his nose and chin getting slick.
“s-sunoo…” you babbled when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, latching onto your clit and sucking like his life depended on it, while sliding his fingers back inside you just like before, stretching you more.
from the way you whimpered and how your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm was close, which only made him hungrier to see you fall apart. he added a fourth finger, thrusting in and out as he pulled to watch your slick spill from you, admiring how your inner lips followed the movement, perfectly fitted. your body trembling like a desperate little thing.
sunoo parted his lips slightly when your body tightened and your release began to spill, soaking his fingers and wrist as it ran down your thighs and dampened the seat. “just like that, baby…” he breathed, fascinated, continuing to finger you through the entire orgasm, dragging every last drop out of you.
when he pulled his fingers out with a soft plop, you were still pulsing, clenching around nothing, making him smile in satisfaction. he bit down on his tongue as he stood slightly, dropping onto the opposite seat, hurriedly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down to his ankles, freeing his hard cock from his boxers.
it took you a few seconds to recover. your flushed cheeks dragged against the rough fabric before you lifted yourself and turned to him. fuck, he looked like a goddamn fever dream.
sitting there, collarbones sharp, thighs firm and pale even in the dim light. his lips were wet, and for the first time you noticed sunoo didn’t just have the snake bites and ear piercings, there was a barbell piercing through the flushed head of his dick, running from one side to the other, catching a faint beam of light. it twitched against his abs.
your eyes lifted to his, and that wasn’t the same band boy you had met years ago. he was different - ridiculously hot for his own good - with a predatory stare that made it clear you weren’t leaving that fucking without being feasted first.
“come here” he said, patting his thighs in an open invitation. and like you were hypnotized, you moved without thinking, biting your lip as you climbed into his lap. you glanced down at his swollen length, your hand reaching out curiously, but sunoo caught your wrist and brought it to his mouth, biting. it wasn’t about him today, it was about you.
he cupped your chin with his other hand, pulling you closer to kiss you again. this time deeper, slower, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. your small hands rested on his shoulders, your body instinctively pressing into his.
sunoo’s hands slid down your waist, finding your ass again, squeezing firmly, urging you to move. and you did, grinding against him without hesitation, gasping against his lip as your oversensitive pussy met him again. “what is it, hm? want to stop?” he pulled back slightly, mimicking your pout, watching you shake your head. “gonna ride me real good, baby?” he asked, and you nodded.
you adjusted yourself, lifting your hips and guiding his cock to your entrance, feeling the cool metal of the piercing send little shocks through you, making your nipples tighten further. you whimpered as you sank down, taking him inch by inch, watching his expression closely: jaw slack, eyes shut. he was so beautiful…
you started moving, rolling your hips forward and back, feeling him deep inside you, so full your moans came out like broken sobs. you held onto his neck, glancing down where you connected, focused on getting the rhythm right since you weren’t that experienced on top. “am i doing it right?” your voice came out small and breathy, and sunoo practically malfunctioned at the question, nodding quickly as he helped guide your hips.
he could bet that whenever those other guys fucked you, it was just some boring missionary where you barely felt anything, and the thought made him grip your hips harder before snapping his gaze back to yours, thrusting up once to meet you halfway, making you choke on a sound.
he did it again, sliding his hands under your thighs now, holding you up as his hips took over, driving into you in a rough rhythm. your breasts bounced, your expression melting as you tried to speak and failed. “m’so g-good…”
“full… feel so full…”
sunoo let your body drop back down and you gasped at the impact before bouncing more, biting your lip, feeling your arms going numb and your thighs burn deliciously from the repeated motion.
he attacked your neck, licking and sucking to muffle his own sounds, unsure whether to grip your ass harder or play with your sensitive tits. “fuck… so good f’me… so fucking good…” a shiver ran down his spine when your lips brushed near his ear, moaning just like he had always imagined. “gonna let me come inside? hmm?” he asked, breath rough, getting only your shaky “m-mhm” in response.
he felt himself getting closer, his hold tightening as if he wanted to fuse you together for a moment. he set a relentless pace, each motion deliberate and deep, making your legs tremble, your knees weak. the coil in your stomach snapped tight, stars flooding your vision as drool slipped from the corner of your mouth.
your nails dragged down his back, your head falling back completely.
you were so sensitive, so full, so- and the moment he came inside you, your second orgasm crashed over you too, wiping every thought away until all that remained was kim sunoo. your body tensed as you let out a broken moan that echoed through the space.
you felt him filling you, warmth spilling deep inside, too much for your tight walls to keep. a white ring forming at the base of his cock as cum leaked, smearing your thighs and his pubis.
his body slowly relaxed. his hand traced along the bones of your spine while you tried to steady your breathing, your head resting to the side against the seat, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. his once-styled hair was soaked with sweat now, just like his chest and arms. and you, marked everywhere he had touched, with your lower lip bruised from how much you’d bitten it.
the sound of the driver’s door opening caught you both off guard. you looked over the seat as sunghoon stepped in and froze. his lips parted, brows furrowing. “the fuck?!” he blurted before backing out just as fast, slamming the door. poor man. “i need a raise” you heard him mutter as he walked away.
you stayed silent for a few seconds before both breaking into laughter, easing the embarrassment creeping in as the adrenaline faded. you had really done that with him… and it felt so right.
you lowered your gaze, cheeks warming.
“don’t be like this…” sunoo whispered, gently tracing patterns along your back with his fingertips. it was impossible. you had broken too many of your own rules. there was no going back now.
you thought for a moment, sniffled softly, and asked “the words before we got here… did you mean it?” your voice came out calm for the first time that night, your fingers absentmindedly tracing soft patterns along his arm. the post-orgasm clarity finally settling in.
“every single one of them” he replied. “why?”
“nothing,” you tried to hide your smile - and failed - burying your face in the curve of his neck. he smiled faintly when he noticed.
you were his.
***
the dark road was lit only by the vehicles’ headlights, the sky heavy and overcast, threatening rain anytime. since the show had been in another city, you had to head back, driving through the night on the highway just to finally get home and rest after everything that had happened. and at that very moment, a very stressed sunghoon behind the wheel was chewing each and every one of you out.
“and they still had the nerve to charge me that shitty 25 bucks for the lamp. a lamp that JONGSEONG broke, not me. not to mention i get to the van for one second of peace and see you two all over each other in here” the older one grumbled, pointing a finger at sunoo, who was who was sitting in the passenger seat beside him.
“uhh someone needing to get laid real bad” jay commented from the back, sprawled across the last row while absentmindedly running his fingers through the drummer’s hair, her body sleeping on top of his chest. a pile of equipment and instruments was stacked across the middle seats after they’d shoved everything back in.
the comment pulled a quiet chuckle out of everyone still awake, except sunghoon of course, who frowned and huffed, “you asshole, you almost fucked right in front of me!” he snapped, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “and on top of that, where the fuck is heeseung? i couldn’t find him anywhere”
wait. and then you raised an eyebrow, lifting your gaze from your phone - where you’d been exchanging silent messages with sunoo - letting your eyes sweep across the van, counting heads in your mind before turning toward the front seats.
“we need to turn back” you said urgently.
“you’ve gotta be kidding”
“i’m not. we forgot heeseung. we have to get him back” you said, your expression caught somewhere between holding back a laugh and sheer panic.
#enhypen_is_seven
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