Friends with Benefits. - Keeho x female reader (18+) ⊹ ࣪ ˖
Summary: After years of friendship and unresolved tension, a celebratory night between you and Keeho leads to a challenge neither of you expected to accept. What starts as a promise of one night together quickly turns into something deeper. word count (4.2k). 18+ minors do not interact.
characters: Yoon Keeho, Female reader
context: teasing, light choking, protected sex, penetration, oral (female receiving), face sitting, handcuffs, make-out sessions (lots of them), drunk play, penetration smut, backshots
You were sprawled across the couch, your limbs practically Jello from the alcohol running through your veins, staring at the ceiling while some R&B music blared from the TV.
The presentation went better than expected today. The professor even smiled. And now you’re celebrating the only way college students know how to.
Cheap vodka and nothing and nowhere to be tomorrow.
Keeho occupies the other side of the couch; one leg perched on the coffee table across from him. His bleached-blond hair caught the red glow of the television. He looks too good like this. You always found Keeho attractive, but the way that white t-shirt hugs tightly around his biceps. The hint of silver rested against his collarbone, hiding beneath his shirt. His dark eyes contrast beautifully with the tone of his hair. The concentration in his eyes as he scrolls through his phone.
Now I don’t know if the alcohol is talking, but damn. He looks good.
“You know,” keeho says, breaking the silence, his voice lazy. “I basically carried us in the presentation today. That pie chart? all me. You were just standing there looking pretty,” He chirps pridefully.
“And did you see the way Professor Jones smiled at me. You know she wants me. We definitely got an A on that because of me.”
You snort at his cockiness, “This is exactly why you can't get any women, Keeho. That mouth of yours.”
He laughs, setting his phone down against his chest.
“Please. I don’t ‘get’ women because I don’t try. Not because I don’t know how.” His eyes darkened slightly, his gaze stuck on yours.
“I promise you, babydoll, I know exactly how to pleasure a woman.” he shrugs, “It's not my fault most of them can’t handle it.”
You sit yourself up, propping yourself on one elbow, raising one eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”
Keeho doesn’t move, studying your face like he’s waiting for you to tell him you're just joking. He sits up, grabbing his drink off the table, taking a long, deliberate sip from the glass before placing it back down.
“You’re drunk.”
“I'm tipsy, and I'm serious.”
He shifts across the couch until he’s kneeling over you. Both hands braced beside your head, caging you in. You can smell his cologne. Something warm and amber-like.
“You have no fucking clue what you're asking for right now, princess.” He murmured, already lowering himself down.
You smirk up at him, your eyes dazed as his mouth finds yours slowly. Nothing like what you were expecting. He takes his time, lips soft and teasing, nipping at your bottom lip gently until you open for him. His tongue slides into your mouth. Your hands go up to cradle his jaw, while his hands roam down to your sides. Over the curve of your waist.
His touch is so gentle, so delicate. His large hands skirt under the hem of your shirt, tracing soothing patterns on your bare stomach before moving to your sides, squeezing your bare skin gently.
You arch into him. Your fingers tangle into his blond hair. He responds by deepening the kiss. His body settling more firmly against yours. His hands drift higher, his thumb brushing against the underside of your breast. You whimper into his mouth, already dizzy with want and desire.
Then. Nothing.
He pulls back abruptly, sitting up on his heels. His lips were glossy and parted. His chest heaves, but his expression is controlled.
“wha-”
“If you really mean what you say,” he interrupts. His voice is rough and low, “You'll meet me tomorrow. Sober”
You stare at him, still trying to process his words. “Tomorrow?”
“There's a hotel. Downtown,” he breathes, “the one with the blue accents on it.” He adjusts himself through his sweatpants with a wince, dragging a hand through his disheveled hair.
“I'll pay for the room. One night. No strings. No liquid courage, just you and me.” His eyes are locked onto yours,
“If you show up, I'll give you everything you need, I promise,” he leans down again, his lips brushing against your ear. “But if you’re not here by 9:00, we never speak of this again.”
“Keeho-”
“Tomorrow,” he says, standing, smoothing his shirt, walking to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table with an intentional thud.
And with that, he leaves your apartment. You sit there for a second, hair disheveled, with your chest heaving heavily. You stare at the spot on the couch, an imprint from where his body just was before glancing at the door.
What the fuck?
8:47 Keeho: Are you coming?
8:49 You: Yes, my Uber is pulling up to the hotel right now
8:49 keeho: I put your name down at the front desk. Just grab a key when you arrive
8:50 You: k
You stare at the single letter on your screen, wondering if you should have said something more, but the car is already pulling up to the hotel. You click your phone shut, deciding not to overthink it.
You went back and forth for hours deciding if you should actually show up. But there you were. In a plain white tank top and gym shorts.
It's been months since you’ve had sex with anyone. You had partners over two years ago, a couple of hookups, but now it's been nothing but dust bunnies down there since.
You stand with the key card clutched in your sweaty palm. You came here because it was keeho. He’s seen you cry over chemistry exams, then laughed with you until wine came blasting out of your nose.
And somehow that is more terrifying than meeting up with a stranger would be.
You stand outside the room for a full minute before sliding the key through the reader. Followed by a beep and a click of the door unlocking. You push the door open.
The first thing you notice is the smell, warm amber just like last night. The second thing you notice is him.
Keeho sprawled across the bed. Wearing a black t-shirt that clings to his shoulders. A silver chain catches the light from the lamp against his throat, and grey sweatpants that sit low on his hips. An outfit you’ve seen plenty of times before, but this time it felt different.
He doesn't look up from his phone immediately.
“You’re late.”
“I'm exactly on time.”
He finally looks up at his phone, his eyes dragging slowly over your figure. Setting his phone down on the nightstand. He moves towards you, closing the distance between the two of you until he's standing close enough that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze.
"You’re nervous.”
“no I'm not.”
“I can tell by your posture.”
He reaches out, grabbing your wrist gently.
You open your mouth to deny it, but he steps closer; he smells even more incredible close.
“Tell me to stop.” his other hand settles comfortably on your waist, like he's done this before. “And I will.” He continues. “We can order room service and watch movies. No hard feelings.”
You swallow hard, searching his face for any signs of mockery, but his expression is soft and patient. The arrogance from yesterday is still there, but it's tempered by something gentler.
“I don’t want to stop.”
“good”
His hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you firmly into the room, the door clicking shut behind you. His other hand cups your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, and he pauses for just a second.
“One last chance to change your mind.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
When you don't pull away, his eyes darken as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours, “Oh, I’m going to take my time with you.” His grip tightens your waist as he finally kisses you properly.
The kiss deepens. His tongue traces your lips before forcing them open. As soon as you're clutching his shoulders, pulling him closer, he responds by sliding his hand into your hair, angling your head to take the kiss deeper, messier until you're both gasping for air.
Somehow, he walks both of you backward. Your feet stumble slightly, but his grip against your waist is firm, guiding you across the room until the back of his knees hit the mattress, lowering himself to sit on the edge of the bed.
He finally breaks the kiss, only to look up at you. His hands settle on your hips, pulling you forward. You straddle his lap; your bodies flush against each other.
You can feel exactly how much he wants you through the thin layers of fabric separating both of you. He groans softly, his head falling back slightly.
“Fuck...” he breathes out, “you feel good.”
His hands slide under your tank top. Warm palms sliding up your sides. You lift your arms up as he pulls your tank over your head. Tossing it carelessly to the side. You shiver at the cold air. But his warm mouth is already on you again. Hot and wet, trailing open-mouth kisses down your throat.
“You smell good, too.” His hands trail lower, cupping your breast through your bra, thumbs brushing over the thin lace.
“Did you get all pretty for me today? You know I love it when you wear red.” He smirks before pressing another kiss to your collarbone.
“Oh, please keeho.”
He doesn't respond. Instead, he pulls the cups down, freeing your breast.
“Fuck...” his murmurs, then his mouth closes around one of your nipples.
You moan out, his tongue swirling. The sensation shoots straight to your core. His tongue plays with one of your nipples while his thumb works at the other one. He switches back and forth, giving both attention until you gently rock your hips against him.
“Take off my shirt,” he commands, and you obey, your fingers fumbling slightly with the hem of his tee. He lifts his arms up, allowing you to slip it off with ease as you toss it aside, revealing the lean muscle of his torso. The silver chain rested against his sternum. Your hands trace the veins on his arms, but he's already moving, shifting backwards on the bed, pulling you with him.
He leans back against the pillows, then guides you to follow. Your knees are on either side of his hips. He pulls you down until your mouth connects with his again. His hands are restless, one hand sliding down to grip your ass, while his other tangles in your hair again, holding you to him as he devours your mouth.
His hands move from your back to your hips. Fingers tracing the waistband of your shorts before dipping beneath the fabric; his warm fingertips drag against your skin as he slides them down to about mid-thigh. You scramble off him for just a second to quickly kick your shorts off, leaving you in just your panties before planting yourself back on top of him.
He chuckles, staring up at your flushed face, “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. His hands slid back up to your thighs. He pats his chest a couple of times.
“I want you up here.”
You shift yourself, moving to straddle his chest as he requested. The position feels a little strange. His body is warm beneath you. His thumbs stroke the skin just above your waistband, and for a moment. You just look down at him.
His grip tightens slightly, applying pressure, encouraging you to scoot your hips forward. You move without thinking until your knees are bracketing his shoulders. Then reality sets in all at once.
“I’ve never done this before.” You breathe. The comment came off confused.
A confident smirk spreads across his face, his eyes darkening with hunger that makes your stomach clench.
“Good,” he mumbles against your thigh, pressing a kiss on it. “Then I get to be the first.”
He pulls your hips forward a few inches, lowering you directly onto his mouth. The first touch of his tongue against the thin fabric of your panties is so unexpected that it causes you to gasp out. Your hands brace against the headboard.
He chuckles again. “Relax,” he murmured against the dampening fabric. “Didn’t I say I'd take care of you?”
“Yeah, you did.” You hesitate, your words coming out shaky.
“Okay, then let me,” he doesn't wait for a response. His tongue flattens against the thin cotton, tracing the length of your slit. A sensation so good, you find yourself rocking your hips instinctively, seeking more contact. He’s patient, his mouth worshiping you through your panties until you’re squirming for more.
A soft whimper escapes your lips. Only when you're moaning desperately for more does he seem satisfied. One hand leaves your ass, and you feel his fingers hook onto the side of your panties. He pulls the fabric aside, exposing you completely to his touch.
The first direct touch of his tongue against your wet flesh is exhilarating. You cry out, your back arching as he licks slowly from your entrance to your clit. He groans against you. Taking your clit into his mouth sucking gently.
Your knees tremble as he sucks harder on your clit, his grip on your ass tightening. He doesn't let up, his mouth working with a focused pressure that has you seeing stars. His tongue circles your sensitive clit, flicking against it in a relentless rhythm.
“Keeho-” you choke out, your fingers tightening on the headboard. “Right there.”
He responds by sucking harder. The wet sounds of his mouth fill the room, mixing with your broken moans and whimpers. His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass as he pulls you even closer, grinding you against his face.
He pulls back for just a second, his voice rough, “Does that feel good, baby? Tell me how good it feels.”
You can barely form words; your mind is fogged with pleasure.
“So good,” you manage to moan out, “feels so fucking good.”
“Good.” and then his mouth is back on you, alternating between sucking your clit and flicking it rapidly with the tip of his tongue, driving you closer to the edge. He seems to sense how close you are.
“That's it,” he encourages, “come on, princess, cum for me. I want to taste you.”
That's all it takes. Your orgasm crashes over you. Your body convulses as a strangled cry tears from your throat. Your thighs squeeze around his head, holding him in place as he continues to work you through your release. His tongue lapping it up as you cum.
He only stops when you're a trembling mess. He gently eases you onto your back, sitting on his heels between your legs. A smug grin on his face. His chin and lips glisten with your release.
He leans in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
“Who can’t please a woman?” He says smugly against your lips before pulling back to chuckle to himself.
You roll your eyes, a breathless laugh escaping you, “Don't get cocky, keeho. You’re not that good.”
A challenge glints in his eyes. His gaze drifted down his own body, landing on the unmistakable bulge straining against his sweatpants. He slowly palms himself, a low groan escaping his lips as he strokes himself through the material.
“Oh, I'm not?” His voice low, he finally looks back up at you. “Look what you did to me.”
He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss. “Against the window,” he whispers. His breath is warm against your mouth.
He pulls back just enough to look in your eyes, his hand still resting on his erection. He kisses you again, deeper this time, slow, deliberate.
“In the shower,” he murmurs, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it. His lips trail down your jaw and throat again. “On the floor,” he groans against your skin, his free hand sliding up to rest against your trembling thigh.
He moves back up to your lips, his mouth finding yours again in a hungry, demanding kiss. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.
“Right here, on this bed,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “We have all night.”
He finally pulls back, “So tell me, "He murmurs. “Where do you want me first?”
Your stomach tightens at his words in anticipation.
“On the bed.”
“Boring,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes sarcastically before kissing you one more time. “The bed it is,” he pushes himself up, moving off the bed to stand before you. For a moment, you think he's just taking off the remainder of his clothes. But instead, he makes his way towards the dresser.
You watch him, confused as he rummages through the drawer. When he turns around, he's holding 2 pink pairs of fluffy handcuffs, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
“What are you-” you start to ramble, but he cuts you off.
“Trust me,” he says, grabbing your wrist in one smooth motion, pulling it above your head. Before you can even process what's going on, you hear the soft click of the cuffs as he secures them to the slats in the headboard.
He stands back, his eyes raking over your restrained form. The look of pure satisfaction on his face.
“Perfect,” he murmured to himself before taking a step back to get a better view. His hands move to the waistband of his pants as he slowly, teasingly pushes them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight. His long cock was straining towards his stomach. He wraps a hand around his shaft, his eyes locked on yours as he begins to stroke himself, slowly.
You watch as he pleasures himself. His thumb swipes over the head to spread the bread of precum that's gathered there. It was probably one of the most erotic things you've ever seen.
“keeho,” you whimper out, “please.”
He chuckled, a low moan escaping his lips as he continued to stroke himself. “Please, what baby?” he asked, “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you,” you squirm against your restraints, “I want you to fuck me.”
He doesn't move; instead, he just continues to stroke himself, his other hand teasingly travelling up his own body, smoothing over his toned core and chest. His eyes narrow, while his lips stay parted.
“Not yet,” his voice firm, “I want you to watch first. I want you to see what you did to me.”
He continues his slow, deliberate strokes. His eyes never leave yours.
This is torture. Mind-bending torture.
You can feel yourself getting increasingly more desperate with every passing second. Your hips rock, seeking a friction that isn’t there.
“Please,” you beg, “I need you. Please just fuck me. I'll do anything.”
“Anything?” he strokes, slowing slightly.
“Anything,” you blurt out without hesitation.
He releases himself with one final stroke, moving to kneel on the bed between your legs. He leans over you, his erection brushing against your soaked core; he pulls back slightly. Leaning over to the side table, grabbing a few condoms and ripped one open with his teeth.
“You beg so pretty,” he murmurs, sliding the condom over his slick cock, pumping it a few more times. “Who am I to deny you?”
He reaches up, his fingers finding the small release on the handcuffs with a soft click. Your wrists are free. You immediately lower your arms, but your freedom is short-lived. Before you could even think about taking control, he captures your wrist in one of his hands. Pinning them above your head against the pillows.
“wha-”
“I said I’d fuck you. I never said I'd make it easy.”
“keeho please.”
He just smirks, his eyes full of amusement as he continues to tease you. Rubbing the head of his cock against your clit. Then back down to your entrance. Never giving you the satisfaction of being filled. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs.
Your body ached for him.
“God, you’re so wet for me, I can feel how much you want it, princess.”
Right when you're about to argue, he slams into you. Burying himself inside of you with one powerful thrust, knocking the wind out of you, as a strangled moan escapes your throat as he fills you.
He sets a punishing rhythm; his stokes hard and deep, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes your vision blur. Just as you're about to tumble over, he stops, he pulls out of you completely, leaving you empty.
“Keeho- what the”
Your words are cut off as he hooks his arms under your knees, lifting you effortlessly, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he carries you across the room. He doesn't stop until your back is pressed against the cold glass. The city's lights twinkle below you; the world is oblivious to what's going on against the floor-length window. He slams back into you, his sheer strength keeping you firm against the glass as he thrusts into you, the force making your back stick to the cool window. This new angle is devastating, and you cry out, digging your nails into his shoulders as he pounds into you. His movements are relentless.
“You like that?” he breathes roughly against your ear, “you like the whole city watching you get fucked?”
The thought is thrilling, and you can feel your orgasm building again, stronger than the last time. But just ask your about to cum, he pulls out again, a frustrated whine escaping your lips. He doesn’t give you a chance to protest, spinning you around in his arms until you're facing the full-sized mirror.
He bends you over slightly, forcing your face closer to the mirror. He’s behind you now, his hands gripping your hips as he enters you again in one, deep thrust.
Your eyes meet your own reflection in the mirror, and the sight is intoxicating, with a slight hint of embarrassment. Your face is flushed, lips swollen. Behind you, Keeho’s jaw is clenched with concentration as he drives into you, his eyes locked on your reflection.
“I want you to watch yourself cum,” he growls against your ear. A hand snaking around your chest, resting on your throat. “Since I'm so terrible with women.”
He reaches around with his other hand, his fingers finding your clit to rub in lazy circles around it. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel your orgasm building again.
“Look at you,” his eyes never leaving yours as his hand moves from your throat to your jaw, holding you in place. “So, fucking beautiful when you cum for me.”
You orgasm soon crashes over you; your eyes locked with your reflection in the mirror. Watching yourself fall apart in his arms. Leaving you trembling and breathless.
He continues to thrust into you until you’re a boneless mess, your body sagging into his arms. He follows you over the edge a moment later; his own release ripping through him with a brutal moan.
“Do you still believe that?” He breathes heavily against your ear. His grip still firm on you, his cock still deep inside of you.
“Believe what...” you huff out, still in a daze.
“That I don’t know how to pleasure a woman.” He teases as you finally shove him off of you.
“Oh, fuck off.”
“I’m a man of my word. You saw it for yourself.”
You roll your eyes, though a smile tugging at your lips gave you away. “Don’t start.”
He finally pulls out, pressing a kiss to your temple before stepping away. You watch him cross the room. Tossing the condom in the trash before grabbing his pair of wrinkled sweatpants on the floor, slipping them on.
“Here,” he suddenly tosses you an extra t-shirt that he brought onto the bed.
“You just carry extra clothes around?”
“I like being prepared.”
Once you both settled on the bed again, Keeho grabbed the hotel's menu from the nightstand. His back, red with claw marks you left, smirking to yourself.
“So,” he says, flipping through the pages. “24-hour room service, what are we thinking? Burgers? Fries? Something fancy?”
You stare at him, and he immediately notices.
“What?”
“I don’t think this can be a one-time thing.” You blurt out. “I don't think I can pretend this didn't happen after... the events that took place tonight.”
“Good.”
You blinked
“Good?”
A smile spread across his face.
“I've been trying not to think about you like this for months.”
Your heart stopped.
“Months?”
“Months.”
“I figured if tonight happened, I’d get it out of my system.”
“And?”
“Pretty sure it made everything worse.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Now stop looking at me like that and help me decide between a burger and fries, or cheesecake.
“All three”
“thats my girl.”
