Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
description: four scenarios in which heeseung, jake, sunghoon, and jungwon force their cock into you when they know they shouldn’t ── warnings listed before each scenario
⿻ vi’s note: hi hi i made revisions to some scenarios i posted on the deceased onlygarden and i hope u thoroughly enjoy i had so much fun with all of these
LEE HEESEUNG
𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 — older heeseung (he works for your dad), subtle dubcon, semi-public sex, marking, spanking
though heeseung could ramble a list of more than a few reasons why he shouldn’t be swayed by your infectious charm – in alarmingly rapid succession, at that – none of them seemed to be effective in hushing the chorus in his mind. first and foremost, you’re the daughter of his boss – a boundary which would serve to bind the ankles of anyone else who may have considered pursuing you, no matter how pretty you may be, no matter how distracting your figure is from mere peripherals, no matter how luring it is that your perfume seems to linger a few steps behind each space you traverse. though much to your luck, or lack thereof depending on who was questioning you, heeseung isn’t just anyone in this case – and that simple fact alone only seemed to encourage him to submit further to his convictions.
as his eyes lifted from the computer screen in front of him, freeing himself from the utterly energy-depleting light in front of him, he engrossed himself in the light of a much more pleasant, radiant source – the light emitting from you. his eyes refused to stray from your figure, draped in such a wicked mini skirt that he could almost convince himself you paraded it in front of him with purpose, on purpose. though you could only enter your father’s office by passing heeseung’s desk, he enjoyed floating in the delusion that you aimed to attract his leering eyes.
after placing the lunch on your father’s desk that you so sweetly went out of your way to prepare, you re-enter the main workspace, intending to return to the parking lot, though not without your father’s minor scolding of ‘be careful what you wear when you come here, sweetheart. some of these guys are creeps.’
be careful, indeed. creeps, indeed – heeseung thinks, and each protective warning applied so patently, so direly to him.
much to his advantage, and in spite of the shameless tracing he allowed his gaze to venture upon whenever your figure entered his view, you never seemed to notice, though — and for the sake of his job, your father never seemed to notice, either.
“when are you gonna start bringing me lunch?” the comment reels your steps to a halt, and you turn to face the source of the teasing voice – to your surprise, though not to your dismay, it’s heeseung. typically, the conversations you struck with him never surpassed the realms of ‘hi, how are you?’ though today, he seemed particularly eager to lure your gaze, and much more pleasantly your response. quite the handsome little perv he is.
with a subtle laugh, you provide him an answer which would translate to an invitation once he received it, unbeknownst to you. “you’ve never asked me to, heeseung.”
the sound of his name tumbling from your lips, along with the sight of your mini skirt pressing against your thighs beyond your knowledge, had him shifting against the leather of his office chair, his slacks grazing the tattered material – evidence of the countless days he’s spent working for your father, only brightened by the daily visits you’d commenced over the recent year. he cleared his throat in an attempt to conceal the creaking and groaning of his chair beneath him – mirroring the groan lodged in his chest – though he’s sure your eyes must’ve latched onto his strange behavior.
“is it too late to start now?”
as the new day followed, you did bring heeseung lunch. in fact, you even packed it in the same precious way as your father’s, tying a ribbon around it after taking such adorable, attentive care to wrap it up. something he’d never abide the heed to do, if he ever got his hands on you.
“well thank you, angel. i wasn’t expecting all this,” his lips curl in a smile, the intentions of his smile much more sly now that you’ve displayed even an ounce of interest toward him.
“it was nothing, really, i just –”
the details of your words fade into a jumble as they reach heeseung’s ears, his focus now isolating the sounds and sights performing along the space behind you.
the door of your father’s office creaked open, and he soon slipped out, his back sliding against the heft of the door as he spoke into his cellphone – he gestured a signal to heeseung, mouthing a few words along the lines of ‘taking a call outside’ that heeseung hardly paid any heed to. he bartered no concern towards the reason your father’s office was empty, only the simple fact that your father’s office was now empty, the door falling closed upon his departure, a sound which preluded the unfolding of events which would utterly harrow your father.
as a renewed haste visited him, he ushered you inside, battling not a single shred of reluctance to indulge in the bliss of you in the grace of your father’s absence. a similar haste seemed to drag you into a whirling kiss, his hands traversing the paths of your body and the visible flesh provided by yet another mini skirt. such a little minx, you always seem to be.
your hushed, half-hearted protests only dissolve onto heeseung’s tongue, further gratifying him in his twisted intentions to just have you, no matter what – though the absence of any true resistance in your words, and the presence of lust within the movements of your tongue provided heeseung with every facet of confirmation he sought.
with limited time to be spared, heeseung forced your body to bend over your father’s desk. rumpling the not-so-generous fabric of your skirt to reveal your thong, he embarks on the task of freeing his straining cock from the confines of his slacks – the slacks which sighed in relief to be freed from such tension against their fraying threads.
“fuck, you know how bad i’ve wanted to fuck you?” his cock cascades along the slimy wetness gathering between your folds, for him. “parading this ass in front of my desk everyday. do you want your dad to fucking fire me?”
his cock seems to jump in excitement before he prods your entrance, plunging into you and letting out a gravelly sigh as your walls constrict so voraciously around every inch of him. it’s almost possessive the way your pussy hugs him, coats him in your creamy essence, as though you want to hold him there forever.
he pounds you, plows his cock into you, gliding along the sea you seem to keep providing around him, so deliciously wet, drenching every inch of him and almost wringing him out as you clamp with each thrust he sends into you. with each pump of his cock, he ensures you can feel the fervor, feel the restraint he’s been forced to cling to for the sake of concealing his staggering attraction towards you from his boss. though in this moment, it was almost as if he could see the illusory ripples of disappointment pulsing from your father – chasing in the direction of him, but also towards you. he’ll just make sure your father remains oblivious to the way his daughter was being obliterated on his desk.
his hand glides along your back, searching the skin that your shirt already disclosed before sliding underneath, pressing against your dampening flesh and pinning your quivering body against the desk with ruthless coercion. his hands seemed to be coated in such unabashed pining, as though every time his palm pressed against you, the words ‘you’re mine, and rightfully so’ branded themselves into your skin. you couldn’t say you were entirely sure what you should prepare yourself for when it came to heeseung, though his current actions certainly overwhelmed your expectations. though it was foolish to just make assumptions, anyway — and now, as heeseung’s hand weighed atop your body akin to the paperweight adorning your fathers desk, you were achingly aware of that.
“you – mmh, fuck,” he withdraws from you momentarily, ceasing his thrusts as he slips a few inches of himself out of you, his cock passing through your fluids producing a glopping sound that he delights in. heeseung rears his hand back, slamming it down onto your ass in one, two swift spanks, prominent smacks bouncing within the confines of the office, transferring every undeniable impulse racking through him onto you — your flesh ripples, just as it did when he was snapping his hips against you, he thinks. “you been wanting this? is this what you wanted? wanted me to risk my job for this pussy, hm?”
as abruptly as the words leave his heaving chest, he sinks into your velvety warmth once more, demanding you to stretch around the heft of his cock as he succumbs to the desperation to piston your feeble body into delirium.
“h-heeseung! i–”
his hand meets the flesh of your ass again, striking against the faint shape of his hand already blossoming upon your tender skin so beautifully, such a testament to his dawning ownership over you – just as fresh, too. his fingers tangle into the hair draping your neck as he digs into the sensitive flesh, silencing any plea, explanation, or apology you intended to offer him as his cock drilled you so erratically. the only sounds chiming within the office were your embarrassingly unsuppressed, stuttered moans, which pulsed arousal so sweetly within heeseung’s cock.
“no baby, don’t talk. just – mmh – shut up while i fuck you full.”
much to your own fortune, your visit birthed from the intention to bring heeseung lunch; he ended up feeding it to you instead, which underlined his gratitude and the way he intended to nurture you in every action from this day forward.
SIM JAKE
𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 — brother’s best friend jake, fingering, noncon, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, nipple play
in truth, jake desired nothing more than your best interest – and your protection, at that. in the same sense, his attraction toward you was achingly undeniable, and only intercepted by his bond with your brother; the two were bound at the seams, their ‘friendship’ easily surpassing that realm and entering the domain of brotherhood instead. he’d unveiled a glimmer of his long-term interest toward you in passing, a hopelessly casual attempt to test the waters in potentially revealing everything which clawed beneath the cracking surface. though, in response to the preview of ‘your sister’s gorgeous,’ he received a dream-shattering ‘c’mon, man, don’t be weird.’ if only a tiny window into the tumultuous world of his desire for you received that response, he certainly needed to bear caution in pushing the topic further. that he did — well, until your brother trusted him to brace the brunt of your drunken antics for the night.
‘get her home safe, man. i’m working late tonight.’
those words bounced the walls of his brain, echoing in hopes of reaching his morals. which, he did have morals, but he also carried lust — for you, the beautiful girl in the slip-adjacent dress clinging so mockingly to the paths of your body he’d only ever traversed with his eyes. your body relaxed lazily, fluidly in the passenger of his car, your dress sagging helplessly as you disclosed no intention of adjusting it. entirely too drunk to care. sure, you’d make it home safe tonight, relatively. though the events set to occur within your home might breach the agreement of safety, just a bit.
“jake, c’mere.”
the sound of your voice, further cracking his resolve, forced a pause to his movements in laying your defenseless body onto your bed. you surely had no control over your actions, not with consideration of the amount you drank. his shoulders tensed under your pleading tug against them, as though you wanted to drag his body to join you in your bed.
“hm? need something?”
‘need your cock,’ is what he dreamed you would say. though your affectionately drunk response of “need you close,” adorned the same meaning in his blurry mind. similar enough, right? to jake, anything would suffice in justifying the way he was about to capitalize on this situation, in it’s grievous convenience.
your dress went first, peeled away with ease as the ever-so-gracious traces of alcohol in your system softened your body into compliance. jake certainly thanked the creators of tequila, or whatever you decided to carelessly guzzle in your blissful state of rapture. your pliant body didn’t offer a single trace of resistance, even as his fingers drew the obstruction of your panties aside, delving within your silky warmth and kneading your most reactive spots with languid pumps.
“gonna let me fuck this pussy, hm? like the way my fingers feel, princess?” the delighted, dizzy whines you provide as response only urge him to drag his fingers along your walls faster, with more force.
“mhm, feels good, baby?” the husky, hushed intimacy of his voice, the wisp of his breath against your lips, the imprisoning stature of his shoulders as he loomed above you — it all caressed every simple desire swimming within your intoxicated brain, the desires for affection, warmth, attachment. you were entirely limp, helplessly so, unable to muster the energy for much more than rolling your eyes back as jake tended to your pussy.
“fuck, feels good…”
as the gratifying words tickled his lips, jake found more confidence to roam, to grope the pillowy portions of your flesh, sinking into the wonders he’d fantasized, sinking into your flesh, and sinking into the reality of betraying his best friend, all the same. well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
once your fingers yank gently against the fabric of his shirt, he’s truly a goner, as if he hadn’t released the reins of his restraint before. his belt meets your flooring with a muted clank, the fumbling with his jeans only lasting until his cock manages to spring from the suffocating barrier. once he drives into you, forcing your walls to accommodate him, any guilt or glimpse of regret seems to cower underneath the magnitude of the ecstasy your body pours onto him.
“mmm… fuck, like how i fuck you baby? want me to keep fucking you, baby?” his eyes sear into yours, searching, yearning for any bit of agreeance that might reciprocate the burn he’s carried at the thought of you for years. though you’re drunk to the point of oblivion, serenity, even — jake still claws to any encouraging response your lips and body might present to him.
“yes! love you, jake,” your slurred response only rouses the speed of the merciless thrusts jake gives to you, and he’s oh-so-sympathetically drunk off both the sight of your intoxication and the nearly debilitating wetness you soak his pistoning cock in — it’s a miracle he’s still finding the strength to thrust into you. god, jake just can’t go slow, pressing repeatedly against the mushiness of your upper walls, chasing and pushing against every clamp your pussy hugs him with, filling your precious tummy over, and over with every prod of his bulky tip.
jake gathers a generous stream of saliva, spitting onto your nipple then twisting the moistened peak — the crease of his brow deepens as you whimper and shiver in retaliation to his torment. his face contorts so cruelly under the pleasure that he nearly wants to shut his eyes, his neck veins pulsing as the groans demand to escape his throat, but he couldn’t dare betray himself in such a way — every twitch, every sigh, every whine you pour out is far too beautiful to go unnoticed by him.
PARK SUNGHOON
𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 — reader as jake’s ex, spitting, unprotected sex, bruising, mentions of hoon being a perv
the words “damn, that’s rough, man,” and the words “you know i’m always here for you, right?” tumble from sunghoon’s lips upon the news of yours and jake’s break up — however, his comfort extends to more than just one recipient.
this revelation was nothing short of exhilarating for sunghoon. whenever jake brought you around, the perverted little ball of filth that he calls a ‘brain’ always deluded into a cluster of different positions he’d take you in, given the chance. from the moment jake introduced the two of you, sunghoon adopted a perpetual struggle in controlling the urges you — and your perfectly sex-built body — ignited within him. even on the days you spent the night at their place, and jake stepped out of the room (after rearranging you himself, sunghoon could only assume), sunghoon’s legs seemed to encourage him autonomously to admire a few glimpses of your flesh revealed by the strewn blankets. ‘fuck, what would jake think?’ those detaining words seemed to be the sole force in preventing him from snatching away the silly blanket and demolishing your cute little sleeping figure. now, the truth in those words has dissolved, along with the illusory panes of glass you’ve been kept behind for the torturous years of your relationship with jake.
though he’s a shameless hornball, he’s a gentleman, too — he prepared you a basket of your favorite snacks, decorated by a bouquet of flowers to truly drive home the ‘concern’ he felt. though his concern didn’t stretch very far, because he didn’t hesitate to proceed in his advances for the real reason he invited you over. he feigns patience, only momentarily. with such false sweetness, attentiveness, he leads you to his sofa, pulling you into his lap to ‘ease your troubles,’ though he only wanted to feel the pressure of your body against his clothed cock. he’s almost tickled by a whisper of guilt as a plethora of “you’re so sweet, hoon,” and “thank you, hoon,” leaves your weary lips, though his wicked intentions still glimmer proudly against any reluctance he could muster.
“shhh, it’s okay. just let me make you feel better.”
those devious words aid sunghoon in shedding your clothing, pressing you against the cushions of his couch before they can even meet the carpet with a muted plop.
“you know i can make your tears go away, hm?”
he shoves his cock inside of your warmth, driving each inch of himself into you — his width leaves such a sizzling stretch to follow as his hips meet yours with coercion. sunghoon doesn’t waste a single second of this precious moment in allowing you to adjust, his cock immediately filling you, protectively sheathed within the creamy sea your pussy created for him. he grasps your jaw in his hand, his fingers forcing dizzying pressure onto your cheeks until your mouth stretches open in compliance. once his saliva drips from his tongue, his mouth latches onto yours, his tongue now tangling and melding over the slimy, bubbly traces of his own spit, his own taste in your mouth, the reminder of his claim over you sending his mind into a drunken spin.
“mhm, so fucking nasty. jake just never knew how to treat you, yea?” the words escape him in such a possessive haze, his breath labored as he recovers from the fervor he exuded as he kissed you. “gonna fuck every thought of him out of you, baby,” his fingers glide along your calves, adjusting your legs over his sturdy shoulders as he shifts his weight to loom over you – he begins sliding, pistoning within your lustrous walls, tight grunts leaving him as a symptom of your equally tight, encompassing heat.
his veiny, taut hands brace themselves against your wrists, bruises certain to form in the effort of making you look so much less like jake’s. sunghoon pounds you, drills you, each thrust accompanied by a promise of ‘you’re mine, mine, mine now.’ he’ll never stop, never, ever stop, he thinks, as his cock punishes your oh-so-delicate insides, his hips snapping so rapidly in their lustful abuse. the excitement, the delight runs rampant within him as he pummels the body he’s always known to belong rightfully to him – the way your pussy envelops him, it’s as though you’re accepting his ownership, telling him ‘i’m yours, all yours, always been yours.’
“jake will never get to fuck you again, will he baby? but he didn’t fuck you this good, did he, baby?” your brain hardly digests the words, drifting too far in the pleasure of the tremors his cock sends throughout your body – the sofa quakes, an indication that you’d certainly slip from the couch if not for the security from the way he caged you in. through a flurry of raptured wails, you manage a “n-no!”
“what’s that? no? loser couldn’t treat this pussy right,” his tone was so cruel, so charged, and you cannot suppress the guilt arising within you at the way his words seem to soothe you.
his thrusts fill you with such precision, cascading torturously along your damp walls, your pussy sending such filthy squelches to resound in the room as his cock sloshes around inside of you. “mmm… fuck, she’s so fucking loud,” his words are laced with pleasured breaths, and his body is flattening you so much, the proximity so tight, that his lower abdomen presses into your clit with each immobilizing thrust. you’ve never felt so battered, so admired, so full as his cock impales you, demanding ecstasy from you – the feeling sears through your pores, shuddering through each tangible crevice of your body as you cum, unprepared for the magnitude of the pleasure as you writhe and quiver beneath him.
“mhm, just like that baby, my nasty girl,” he encourages, still pounding you through the orgasm he bestowed onto you. “who just made you cum, hm?”
as the immense, piling pleasure lingers, still navigating through your body, you attain the momentary strength to mutter, “y-you, hoon!”
“that’s right, baby. not his pussy, not your pussy, all mine,” the words fan over your features in a whispered growl. your spasms, your flutters, the flood of your essence gushing more graciously around him – it all serves to intensify his own ecstasy. he grunts and groans as his eyebrows knit together, the thump of his skin connecting with yours grows stuttered, unfettered as he cums, dramatizing his hips to languid, punctuated pumps and he’s sure to remind you to “take it all,” through the haze of his low moans. though he struggles to keep his focus through the aftermath of the bliss he was granted, he unsheaths himself from your obliterated entrance, slapping the bulky weight of his cock against your tummy to decorate you in the final spurts of his cum, further confirming his claim over you and further appeasing the possessive beast flaring within him. he watches your enrapturing figure with affection as you crumble further into the sofa, donning the bruising marks of his fingers, and leaking a velvety sea of your shared cum onto his cushions.
upon the day that follows, jake sits atop the same cushions sunghoon mangled your pussy on, none the wiser to the cruel actions which took place – until, however, he notices a scanty piece of lace fabric tucked between the cushions, a thong which he recognizes immediately to be yours.
“sunghoon! you fucked my ex-girlfriend?”
YANG JUNGWON
𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 — reader as jay’s girlfriend, infidelity (though jungwon is manipulative), mentions of ddlg dynamics, dadawon (:p), backshots, unprotected sex, noncon
jungwon isn’t entirely sure what to call it – jealousy, envy, unbridled rage. either way, regardless of the choice in terms used, he wants you. beautiful, unattainable you. so close in proximity, yet floating so mockingly beyond the reach of his grasp. sure, he’s happy for jay; if concealing his hunger to shield you behind his metaphorical cloak could be considered happiness, then he was more than happy.
anytime jay graced the rest of them with your presence, jungwon observed the way he treated you, the way he doted on you, the way you responded to his advances so eagerly, so obediently as though jay reprogrammed your mind to function only under his instruction. at this point, the muscle drifting inside your head could hardly be called a brain; jay took that from you long ago, replacing it with a lump of instructions you must follow in order to appease his looming dominance. in jungwon’s eyes, that was just so fucking cute.
he wished, he ached to delve into even one experience of such submission, such surrender, such trust. his mind often wandered, drifted into contemplation of the way you’d behave under his command – if he lifted a spoon to your lips, would you wrap your lips around it without even knowing what sat upon it? if he buckled your seatbelt, would you sit patiently, contentedly without even knowing where he was taking you? if he told you to open your mouth, would you show him your tongue without even knowing what he’d place onto it?
though at some point, the dryness of curiosity must be quelled by the moisture of execution – jungwon’s curiosity, his routine contemplation led him directly to the front door of yours and jay’s shared home, and the use of his spare key signaled his weary thirst, only able to be quenched by you. the key in jungwon’s clutch was entrusted to him by jay, in case of emergency, in case you were ever in need of any help; though if jay was aware of how jungwon intended to ‘help’ you while he wasn’t home, he wouldn’t place a facet of trust within several acres of his friend, ever again.
the sound of the front door unlocking startles your blissful leisure upon the couch – jay wasn’t supposed to be home so early, you think. “daddy? is that you?”
yeah, it’s your daddy, alright, jungwon thinks. you just don’t know it yet. “hey, noona. just came to check on you,” the fib eases from his lips, though it wasn’t entirely untrue – he’d be checking to see how well you took his cock, for certain.
“oh, hey, jungwon. i’m fine, though. i wasn’t really–”
all traces of whatever trivial words you planned to form together only draw to a halt as jungwon lifts your instinctively-compliant body from the couch, hauling you over his shoulder.
“j-jungwon? why are you–”
“jay told me to do this,” another fib, though any mention of instructions from jay seem to seal your lips in obedience. oh, you’re so well-trained.
with no hesitation, or time to spare, he enters the bedroom and releases your body onto the bed, observing with gratification as you bounce defenselessly against the plush of the mattress. your clothes are discarded, peeled away with no battles of reluctance because jay wanted him to do this, apparently – and who are you to question what your daddy wants?
“elbows and knees,” the command chimes within the room, resounding in your body akin to the effects of a spell, and your limbs adjust themselves into the position before your mind can even question his reasoning. as he basks in the sight of your ass perched above the bed, the slippery, fluffy lips of your pussy glistening with an invitation for him, he removes the suffocating restraints of his own clothing.
“mmm… don’t worry, princess,” the bed shifts and stirs as jungwon moves to join you, and his hand cascades, slinks along the path of your spine, the lush prints of his fingers igniting quivers and twitches with every languid progression along your sheen skin. “promise i’ll take care of you, just like jay wanted, hm?”
his hands traverse the trails of your waist before seizing the flesh of your hips in a possessive clasp, reveling in the way your flesh swells and pillows around his fingers. one hand leaves the solace of your hip to curl around his cock, plunging it past your glimmering, pearly lips with ease. as your whimper tickles the blanket your face rests upon, conveying your compliance, your pleasure, your willing submission – under the thought of jay’s command, though submission nonetheless – jungwon begins to drive his cock into you with pressured pumps, sending ripples against the pliant flesh of your ass with each kiss of your joined skin.
he pistons within your constricting walls as though he was chasing something, searching for something that he could only discover hidden within the dewy moisture inside of you. under the weight of the pleasure, he barely manages to open his eyes, barely manages to lift his head as it tilts back, though he does, driven by the fact that he wouldn’t dare to miss a moment of your obedience in the tasks he’d given you.
“who’s fucking you, princess? who owns this pussy?”
your mouth hangs open, so pitifully slack, drool slithering from your mouth and soaking the blankets as you whine and wail in tandem with his merciless thrusts. the blissful haze within your mind offers you momentary clarity to respond with a weary, “daddy! you, daddy!”
the terms echoes from your weary lips as though you’re conditioned to respond only with such, and you are – though jungwon is delighted to drag the title from your lips, and determined all the same to erase, rewrite all remnants of jay, morphing your devotion, your pleas for guidance to pursue him instead. as though jay’s brain could telepathically receive the thoughts swirling inside of jungwon’s, as though he could sense something amiss with his baby, your phone rings, brightening with a habitual call from ‘daddy <3’ – even your phone seemed to flaunt all traces of jay with triumph.
as his cock continues to rearrange you, pummel you with demanding slops into your snug pussy, he reaches for your phone, answering the conceivably pleading call from jay — though pleas of your own would usually tumble from your lips at such an action, your mind only seems to offer a meek encore of ‘jay wanted this.’
the phone soars to jungwon’s ear as he accepts the call, and his free hand roams the shimmery skin of your back to shove pressure against the arch. the heft of his cock now kneads the silk of your walls with amplified force from his snapping hips, the swell of his tip stuffing you, spreading you, working your pussy with such seamless kisses against your sweetest mushy patches.
a muted echo of “princess? you doing alright?” resounds from the phone — he’s such a good, attentive daddy, shamefully so, because all it took to receive the grant of entrance into your pussy was the mention of his name.
as attentive as he is, jay recognizes the pretty chime of your pleasured, whelmed cries without delay, though jungwon’s winded voice slices through the seething rage, shock, confusion which prepared to erupt from jay’s chest.
“hey, jay, it’s me. i’ve got your princess right here. don’t worry, she’s fine,” the gruff of his voice melds with your whiny moans, and with the incessant pat, pat, patting of his dewy skin against yours. with each subtle withdraw, his cock now shined with the glossy fluids secreting from your arousal.
“tell me again, princess. who’s making you feel so good? who fucks this little pussy best?”
the tone of your whines only becomes more frantic, reaching the realms of sound jay previously believed only he could extract from you. “y-you daddy!” the words flee from your throat with such ease, and you’re still convinced that jay would be delighted to know you’re following his instructions, though the words fill his ears, implant his mind with the most unfathomable, treacherous feeling of betrayal he’s ever feared to know.
jungwon’s hips falter, spasming with stuttered pumps as he cums, draining the seed from his balls inside of you as your pussy clings to him, squeezing out every creamy glob he could ever hope to fill you with. “fuck! take daddy's cum, whore.”
jay ended the call with haste, ceasing the gushy sounds of your pussy and the wails of your rapture as you ascend to an orgasm on kindred paths with jungwon, he can only assume. with such posthaste, he rushes home, only to see the same angelic, guiltless expression you always seemed to show him.
Pairing: gamer!heeseung x fem!reader
Genre: oneshot, smut MDNI, established!relationship
Synospsis: Heeseung is a very popular streamer, and that’s exactly why he paid little to no attention to you. So one day, you decided to get back at him and teased him under the desk while he was streaming...
Warnings: oral (m!rec), handjob (both!rec), spanking, swearing, unprotected!sex, praising, degrading, dom!heeseung
WC: 3k
Note: Thanks for @beomxmii for requesting it to me!!!! This is for you babe!!!! 😘💕 I want to make moots and talk about everything!!!
You push open the door to Heeseung's gaming room, the familiar glow of his multiple monitors painting your face in shifting blues and purples. The rhythmic click-clack of his mechanical keyboard mixing with his energetic commentary.
"Babe?" you call out softly, not wanting to startle him. "What do you want for dinner? I was thinking we could order that Korean place you like."
Heeseung doesn't even turn his head. His eyes are locked on the central screen where his character is locked in an intense fight. "Guys, I think I've got him, just need to reload-"
"Hee, dinner?" you try again, stepping closer to his desk.
He finally glances at you, his expression momentarily annoyed before he plasters a bright smile back on for his audience. "Sorry, chat," he says smoothly into his high-end microphone. "Just a quick interruption." Then he turns to you, his voice dropping to a sharp whisper. "Y/N, you know I'm live. Don't bother me during my stream. We'll talk about it later."
His dismissal stings. It's always like this when the red "LIVE" light is on. You cease to exist, fading into the background noise of his digital world. Annoyance bubbles in your chest, hot and sharp. Fine. If he wants to ignore you, you'll give him something he can't possibly ignore.
A slow, mischievous smile spreads across your face as an idea takes root. Heeseung is so engrossed in his game, his back perfectly straight in his gaming chair, his focus absolute. He wouldn't even notice. You drop to your hands and knees, the plush carpet muffling your movement as you crawl beneath the vast expanse of his desk. It's a cave of tangled wires and glowing RGB lights, but you have a clear view of his lower body, his legs spread slightly apart in his comfortable position, with one bouncing out of concentration.
He's wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, soft and thin. You reach up and palm the growing bulge at his crotch. Heeseung jolts violently, his character on screen taking a critical hit as his falters.
"What the-?" he exclaims, his voice tight. He glances down, his eyes wide with disbelief when he sees you smirking up at him from the floor. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, a silent, desperate plea for you to stop.
You just grin, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, tugging them down just enough to free him. He's already half-hard, a proof to the effect you have on him, even when he's pretending you don't exist.
"Sorry guys, just a... uh... leg cramp," Heeseung stammers, his voice strained as he tries to play off his sudden jerk. "All good now, back to the game."
But the real game is about to be happening under his desk. You lean in, your warm breath ghosting over his length before you take the tip into your mouth. Heeseung sucks in a sharp breath, his hand flying down to grip your hair, not to push you away, but to push you down more. His knuckles are white where he grips the mouse with his other hand.
You start slow, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting the salty bead of precum that gathers there. You take him deeper, your lips gliding down his shaft as you establish a torturously slow rhythm. You can feel the tension coiling in his thighs, the way his muscles tighten as he fights to maintain control.
"Alright chat, we're making a final push," he says, his voice sounding impressively normal, though you can detect the slight tremor beneath the surface. "This is it, if we can…just take this-"
You decide to step up your game. You hollow your cheeks, increasing the suction as you take him all the way to the back of your throat. Heeseung chokes on a gasp, quickly turning it into a cough. He clears his throat, trying to cover his reaction.
You pull back, leaving just the tip in your mouth as your hand works his shaft, your thumb rubbing circles over the sensitive spot just beneath the head. You're edging him perfectly, bringing him to the brink before easing off, leaving him trembling and desperate for more. His composure is cracking, and you love it.
The chat on his second monitor starts blowing up.
"Yo Hee, you okay? You sound kinda breathless."
"You’re sus my dude…"
"Is it me or did I hear some weird noises?"
"You get off on losing?"
Heeseung glances at the chat, his face flushing a deep red. "I'm fine," he insists, his voice a little too high. "Just... really into this game. It's intense."
You can't help but smirk around his cock. You take him deep again, your nose brushing against his lower stomach, and you hum softly. The vibration sends a jolt through him, and his hips buck involuntarily. He bites down hard on his lower lip, a desperate attempt to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.
"Fuck," he mutters, forgetting for a moment that he's live. He quickly tries to cover it up. "I mean, this guy is tough! Really putting up a fight."
You can feel him getting closer, his length twitching in your mouth as he nears his release. But you're not done with him yet. You pull back completely, leaving him wet and throbbing in the cool air of the room.
Heeseung's eyes snap down to yours, a mixture of desperation and frustration in his gaze. He silently begs you with his eyes, pleading for you to finish what you started. You just smile innocently, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his inner thigh before taking him back into your mouth, starting the delicious torture all over again.
He's losing his grip, forgetting his stream for a moment. His breathing is ragged, his focus shot. He's missing easy shots, his reactions delayed. His viewers are getting more and more suspicious, and you know he can't keep this up for much longer.
The dam breaks. With a strangled groan that he barely manages to muffle, Heeseung's hips jerk upwards. Hot, thick strands of his release paint your face, landing on your cheek, your lips, and your forehead. You stay perfectly still, your tongue darting out to taste the bit that landed on your lips, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
That's it. He's done.
"Sorry guys, uh... technical difficulties," he rasps, his voice completely wrecked. "I gotta... I gotta end the stream. See you tomorrow." He doesn't even wait for a proper goodbye. His hand flies to his keyboard, hammering the keys to end the broadcast. The red "LIVE" light on his camera clicks off, plunging the room into a more intimate, dimly lit silence.
For a moment, he just sits there, chest heaving, his head thrown back against the chair. Then, his eyes open, and they lock onto yours. The playful, aroused glint is gone, replaced by a dark, furious fire. He stands up, quickly pulling up his sweatpants, and in one swift, powerful motion, he grabs you by your arms and hauls you out from under the desk.
He doesn't say a word as he throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You let out a surprised squeal as he stalks out of the gaming room, his grip like iron on your thighs. He's pissed. Truly, deeply pissed, and a thrill of excitement mixed with apprehension shoots through you.
He dumps you unceremoniously onto the living room couch before sitting down himself. In a move that makes your stomach flip, he grabs your waist and manhandles you, pulling you face-down across his powerful thighs. Your ass is presented to him, vulnerable and waiting.
"What the hell was that?" he growls, his voice low and firm. His hands are rough as they grab the hem of your shorts and panties, yanking them down in one sharp tug. The cool air hits your exposed skin, making you shiver. "You think that's funny? Interrupting my stream like that? Making me look like a fool in front of thousands of people?"
His large hand comes down on your bare ass with a sharp, stinging smack. You yelp, more from surprise than pain.
"You wanted my attention so badly, Y/N?" Smack! This one is harder, a hot bloom of pain spreading across your cheek. "Well, now you have it. All of it."
"You're such a brat," he seethes, his hand raining down another hard spank. "A naughty, attention-seeking little brat." Smack! "You need to be taught a lesson."
Each spank is punctuated by his angry words, the impact growing harder, more intense. The pain is sharp, exquisite, and it sends a jolt straight to your core. You can feel yourself getting wet, your body betraying you, craving more of this rough punishment.
Heeseung's hand pauses, resting on the heated flesh of your ass. He's breathing heavily, and you can feel his anger starting to shift, to change. His fingers drift lower, sliding between your thighs. He stills when he feels the slick wetness gathering there.
A low, dark chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Well, well," he murmurs, his voice thick with a new kind of heat. "Look at you. Getting turned on by your punishment. You really are naughty, aren't you?"
Before you can answer, his hand comes down again, harder than all the others. SMACK! The sound echoes in the quiet room, followed immediately by his fingers plunging into your dripping heat. You cry out, a mix of pain and overwhelming pleasure as he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl.
He establishes a torturous rhythm. A sharp, stinging spank on one cheek, then his fingers pumping into you. A hard slap on the other cheek, then his thumb rubbing tight circles over your swollen clit. The alternating sensations are mind-blowing, the sharp, hot pain of the spank followed by the deep, throbbing pleasure of his touch. You're lost in a haze of bliss, pushing back against his hand, silently begging for more.
Through the fog of pleasure, you feel him hardening again against your stomach. The evidence of his renewed arousal spurs you on. You twist in his lap, maneuvering yourself until you can get your mouth on him. You take his semi-hard cock into your mouth, sucking him deep, tasting the lingering saltiness of his earlier release.
Heeseung lets out a guttural moan, the anger finally draining out of him, replaced by pure, unfiltered lust. His focus shifts entirely to you. His fingers inside you become more deliberate, more purposeful. The wet, sucking noises of your mouth on him mix with the lewd, squelching sounds of his fingers pumping into your soaked pussy.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire. "Look at you. So fucking eager." His other hand comes down to grip your ass, not to spank, but to knead the heated flesh as his thumb continues its relentless assault on your clit. "You love this, don't you? Love being my naughty little girl."
You can only moan around his length in response, your whole body trembling as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, the punishment forgotten, replaced by a raw, passionate need that consumes you both.
His anger evaporates, replaced by a focused, uncontrollable intensity. Heeseung's fingers abandons your clit for a moment, spreading your slick folds open. He stares, mesmerised, as he toys with your sensitive lips, pulling them gently before letting them snap back. The lewd, squelching noises of your arousal fills the quiet room, a testament to how much you were enjoying this.
"You're so fucking wet for me," he murmures, his voice a low, husky rumble that vibrated through you. "All this because you wanted my attention? You just had to act like a little slut to get it?"
A fresh wave of defiance surge through you. "You never pay attention to me!" you complaine, your voice muffled by his thigh. "Maybe if you did, I wouldn't have to-"
Smack! His hand comes down sharply, not on your ass, but directly on your exposed, sensitive pussy. The sting is electric, a jolt of sharp pleasure-pain that stole your breath.
"Watch your mouth," he commandes, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Did I allow you to talk?"
With that, he lifts you off his lap. For a moment, you feel cold and empty, but he quickly manhandles you, pushing you forward until you are bent over the arm of the couch, your ass high in the air. He gathers your hair in his fist, wrapping it around his hand until he has a firm grip, pulling your head back just enough to be a delicious, stinging reminder of his control.
"Don’t forget your position now," he growls, lining himself up with your entrance. "The only sounds I want to hear out of your mouth should be my name and your moans."
He slams into you in one brutal, deep thrust that knocked the air out of your lungs. He set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against yours with enough force to make the couch skid across the floor. This was what you wanted, what you had craved, this raw, unfiltered possession.
"Is this what you wanted, Y/N?" he grunts, his voice ragged as he pounds into you. "To be fucked like this? To be used? Because I'm giving you exactly what you asked for."
He’s rough in the best way, each thrust hitting deeper than the last, stretching you, claiming you. The hand in your hair keeps you arching, unable to do anything but take it. He alternates his rhythm, just as he had before. He’s pounding into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room, only to stop suddenly, burying deep inside you. Then, he’s grinding his hips, dragging his cock against your inner walls in a way that makes you see stars, scraping against that sensitive spot deep inside that drive you wild.
"Look at you," he praises, his voice thick with lust. "Taking it so well. Such a good girl for me."
The praise, combined with the relentless stimulation, is your undoing. A coil of pressure tightens deep in your belly, growing hotter and more intense with every thrust. With a particularly hard grind of his hips, it snaps. A wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful washes over you, and you cry out as you come, gushing around him. You can feel the wetness soaking his thighs and the couch beneath you.
Heeseung let out a triumphant laugh, his pace faltering for a second as he feels you clench and release around him. "Fuck, yes," he groans, his voice filled with awe. "That's it, baby. Squirt for me. So fucking beautiful."
He doesn’t stop. If anything, he fucks you harder, chasing his own release as your body trembles through the aftershocks. "I'll make it up to you," he promises, his voice softer now, almost breathless. "I'll make it all up to you."
His free hand slides around your body, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming pleasure. A few more deep, hard thrusts and he stills, burying himself to the hilt as he come with a long, guttural moan, his warmth flooding you.
For a moment, you both stay like that, tangled together, breathing heavily in the aftermath. Then, he gently pulls out, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. He scoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style to the bedroom and laying you down on the soft sheets.
He disappears for a moment and returns with a tube of soothing ointment. He sits on the edge of the bed, his touch impossibly gentle as he carefully applies the cool cream to your still-stinging ass. His earlier anger was completely gone, replaced by a tender concern that makes your heart ache.
"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, his voice filled with gentleness. "Did I go too hard?"
You turn over to look at him, sulking a little bit. "I just wanted to be seen," you whisper, the vulnerability of the admission hanging in the air. "I just wanted you to pay attention to me."
Heeseung's expression softens, a wave of guilt washing over his features. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I see you, Y/N," he murmurs against your skin. "I always see you. And I'm so sorry I made you feel like you had to do that to get my attention. I'll do better. I promise. I will arrange my streaming schedules so we can spend more time together."
You look at him with a small smile, your mood slightly better. "You better or else I’m smashing your setup." You say with your teasing tone back.
Your empty threat pulls a grin out of him. He pinches your cheek affectionately. "I will make sure you won’t."
wc: 2.1k warnings: idk, nnn, jayke bet on lhs, lowk reader a hoe, unprotected seggs, doggy , riding, dom her ending questionable, a singular spank, squirting, thumb sucking....,.. honestly idk what bs I'm writing
harua: this is from my old account haruawya pre deactivation. proceed with caution because its straight bs .
There was only one word that could be used to describe Lee Heeseung’s current situation. Utterly fucked.
The sixth of November and he hasn’t climaxed once since October. The only thing keeping his mind in check was the hefty betting pool he and his friends, Jake, Jay and Sunghoon had put together.
The four of them knew they wouldn’t last the entire month, four incredibly high sex drives competing to see who would hold out from their girlfriends, or worse, their fists.
He was sure. keyword: was, at least sure that he could last longer than Jake. But as the saying goes, ‘you want what you can’t have the most.’
However, near the early days of November, you had received a phone call from Jake and Sunghoon. They wanted you to bait your boyfriend and make him lose for a small portion of the money. Jay had refused to take part in their scheme, he was determined to win fairly.
You didn’t even care about the money, it wasn’t as if Heeseung didn’t spoil you rotten anyways, but there was no mistaking how amusing the offer was, so you accepted.
After being with him for a while, you knew exactly what made his skin crawl with lust, all you had to do was play to your strengths, his weakness ( you ) and fully exploit the hold you had over him.
So, for the next few days, you would parade around the house with barely-there shorts and crop tops. If you felt extra mean, only a bra, because you knew his favourite part of you, the part that made him falter.
Your back, your spine. More specifically, the curve of it. His favourite sight to see over the couch armrest and occasionally on the kitchen counter with his hand fisted in your hair as a bonus point.
He would come home and gape at your form, half hard dick in his pants, it just wasn’t fair, not when you were bending over to reach something. Ass in the air with the rim of your lace panties showing.
He would have to tame himself, collaring his imaginations in the form of taking icy showers that did more for the migraines in his cranium than his other head, which he seemed to be thinking with a lot more lately.
Eventually the thread snapped when he arrived home spent from the day to the sight of you in a pair of shorts and white lace.
Oh, you were one evil little minx, weren’t you?
His jaw physically dropped, you were bent slightly over the counter, you had been perched there since you heard his keys jingling, but he didn’t need to know this was planned, yet.
He could feel his face warming intensely. Over and over, he tried to stop himself from dropping his gaze any further downwards.
But as soon as his eyes traced the slope of your spine and down to your shorts, he was a gone man. Not a single thought in his head as he scanned your figure.
You were starting to think you had been too cruel with the way his mouth physically dropped open when he caught sight of your pudgy pussy lips through the cotton of the tight hugging clothing.
Every movement you made was pure torture, there’s only so much a man could take.
Heeseung was going crazy, desperately attempting to redirect his blood from flowing downwards, his ears were red, hands twitching ever so close to his crotch.
“Hiya, Hee. Long day?”
Deer-like eyes fluttered to yours, his mouth shutting to swallow the thick saliva that had been pooling in his mouth.
“Mmh..yeah, I guess so…” He trailed off, you don’t even think he registered what you were asking him. He tried to think of all the possibilities that could come from the bet: a holiday in Jeju, a better car, a new set of lingerie for when he’s ripped through the ones you’re wearing…
“Heeseung…Earth to Hee..?” You laughed, knowing the full effect of what seeing you like this had done to him.
When he finally decided to screw the bet he dropped his bags and rushed towards you and hauled you over his shoulder, uncaring of the surprised squeal you let out. It was like he had lost all rationality after abstaining for so long.
“Fucking slut, you did this on purpose didn’t you?” He growled, hand spanking your ass that was atop his shoulder. You giggled behind him, only just realising that you had spilled your intentions.
Heeseung kicked open the door and manhandled you onto the mattress, ripping the shorts off of you.
Your bra, shoved above your tits. He unclipped it from behind with a well practised hand, and threw it somewhere.
You almost moaned at his assertiveness, he was being rough and you lived for it, punishing you for making him fail. The perfect Lee Heeseung who never failed a class during his time in school, or ever, for that matter.
He shoved his sweatpants down, the bulge in his boxers making your mouth water and pussy flutter in anticipation.
“Making me lose like that, nasty girl. If ‘m gonna lose make it worth it” he breathed out aligning his slick reddened tip against your heat. After restraining himself for so long, he had so so so much to give you.
You threw your head back, throwing your arms onto his shoulders, gripping harshly. He almost came when he pushed himself into you, taking a deep ragged breath as he started to piston his hips into yours.
You cried out his name when he hit your cervix, becoming putty in his arms with your spine curling off of the bed.
He slid his hand underneath your back, his palm against your skin and pushed towards him.
“Heeseung! Hee, s-slow down…nghh” you slurred underneath him. He merely groaned in response, murmuring something about you being able to take it.
His ears ringed wildly, but there was something missing…
Suddenly, he took his arm from your back and unsheathed himself, you whined at the loss. He flipped you onto your front. Once you realised what he wanted, you got on your hands and knees, pushing your ass up towards him, slick dripping down your thighs lewdly.
He slid inside again, immediately ploughing into you as if he wanted to commit the way your walls pulsed and squeezed around his cock to memory.
The new angle had you seeing stars, dropping to your elbows.
“Hngh..Wanted this pretty pussy for so fucking long” he panted behind you. You could barely respond, or hear with the way you were screaming his name over and over again, you could feel the curved shape of his length slamming into parts of you that made you drool slightly.
“So. Fucking. Long” He groaned in between thrusts, the end of his babbling starting to sound suspiciously like a whine, you were going to kill him with your body, he was sure of it. and he wouldn't have it any other way.
With the way you were squeezing around his length, he really didn’t expect to last long, the drag of his length was so delicious it made you want to cry, if you weren't already.
“Hee, Don’t stop!” You squealed as his tip hit the spongey spot that had you salivating all over the pillowcase, face pressed into it harshly, wet spots emerging. oh yeah these would have to be changed...
“Fuck fuck fuck can’t h-hold on any longer- hah. Come with me please ...baby” he spluttered.
With one last drive into you, he spilled, it just wouldn’t stop. You came around him then, eyes rolled to the back of your head. He kept on coming, your combined juices spilling out of your hole as he started to ride out the intense orgasm with you, pearly liquid snaking out of your stuffed hole without him having to pull out.
Coming down to earth, you registered his cock waking up inside of you, how could he not? The sight of the frothy pearly ring around his length mid pull out had made him hard again.
“Hngg-h c-can’t take anymore” you whimpered.
You should’ve known by then, that your words would fly over his head as his eyes raked all over your body. Handprints on your ass, waist and the cum oozing out of you. It was just too much for him.
“You can take one more for me…cant you? Jus..need it again” he whispered. His eyes were glazed over, completely fixated on the curves of your body and the evidence of his desire.
He bent down, chest against your back, and buried his face in your neck. The action driving his hips forward, causing you to moan under your breath.
Of course you wanted more, after all, you too had not climaxed since November, ( disregarding the time when you fucked yourself on your vibrator while he was showering to see his reaction.) After regaining a better hold of his senses he began to trail kisses from your shoulder blade to your ear.
He bit down on your earlobe, a sensitive spot of yours. Unexpecing the harsh bite you squirmed, as he began to continue thrusting inside of you. “I need this..Y/N, y-you know you want it too, don’t you?”
He sucked on the skin below your ear, creating a mark you would have to cover tomorrow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, or notice with the way he was actively hitting your sweet spot.
You moaned again and again until it drowned the filthy squelches of your combined releases echoing within the confines of your shared room.
“Nghh you’re so-so soooo cruel” he slurred.
He was quickly losing all sense of thought again, who knew that sex bans could completely change a man? It was as if he never wanted to disconnect with you again.
“Teasing me l-like that, shit- can’t hold for much longer…”
You decided that with the energy you have left to switch positions again until you were sitting on him.
He leant down the latch onto one of your perked up nipples, swirling the areola in his mouth, occasionally swapping sides and sucking marks.
You started to bounce on him. Raising and lowering your hips with a loud plap! each time. He moaned whilst sucking on your left tit, the vibration shooting through your spine, making you shiver.
Your gummy walls were being impaled on his dick, though, this time it felt different.
His hands were digging into the fat of your waist, almost engulfing your stomach with the sheer size of them. “Feels so good, Hee” you moaned. He stopped licking at your chest and threw his head back in pleasure, biting his lip raw and bloody to repress his sounds.
You were starting to get tired, mentally cursing yourself at the way your hips stuttered. Heeseung started to thrust upwards whilst moving you with his hands, doubling the strength of your movements.
“Please! P-please Hee! Ohhh Fuck fuck fuck!” You screamed, what you were begging for was far past any concerns you had.
Your mouth dropped open, curses and pornographic noises flowing out. You pressed his bottom lip with your thumb, dragging his mouth open so you could hear him.
He took your thumb into his open mouth, swirling his wet muscle around it, the salty taste of your digit making his eyes water in his lust drunk haze.
The strong dominant version of himself was nowhere to be found, instead he became reduced to a whimpering mess. He was seeing stars and galaxies beyond, pussydrunk bastard.
As you both neared the peak he pushed your bent spine further in towards him and reached down to play with your clit, keeping a hand on your hip, increasing the pace at which he was moving your body.
The words pouring out of his mouth were unintelligible, especially with all of the spit trailing from the corner of his lips and your thumb.
“Fuuuuck-haah- cant b’lieve ’tried to go a month without this pussy” he cut himself off with a moan when you clenched around him, a telltale sign that you were close.
“Then don’t- Jus fill me up, hee” You practically shrieked, the added stimulation and assault from his ministrations driving you to the brink along with him, the neighbours were going to file a lengthy complaint, and you both knew it.
He had you writhing and screaming so loud, you were sure the neighbours would file noise complaints. “Oh-Shit－ Hee! ‘m gonna- m’gonna-“
“Yeah? Gonna cum all over me? Want it all over- need it” he ordered, and who were you to say no?
Your mind was reeling, it was like no other climax you had ever had with him, you could feel the difference in the coils of heat spinning in your tummy.
The agonising pinching and circling and flicking of your clit got quicker, throwing you over the edge when－abruptly －you screamed and a gush of fluid splashed onto Heeseung's stomach and all over the sheets.
You collapsed on top of him, nails digging into his shoulder muscles while he fucked you through it.
“Fuck, did you just- did you squirt on me? Ohh I cant- mnhh yr, so hot sososofucking sexy- ah shit..”
Heeseung came without warning, unable to last with the fluttering of your walls constricting around him. Thighs shuddering with overstimulation.
Further into the night, he wouldn’t stop until you squirted again, it didn’t matter if it was his fingers, dick or mouth, having been starved for so long, you’ll compensate for it right?
wc: 2.1k warnings: idk, nnn, jayke bet on lhs, lowk reader a hoe, unprotected seggs, doggy , riding, dom her ending questionable, a singular spank, squirting, thumb sucking....,.. honestly idk what bs I'm writing
harua: this is from my old account haruawya pre deactivation. proceed with caution because its straight bs .
There was only one word that could be used to describe Lee Heeseung’s current situation. Utterly fucked.
The sixth of November and he hasn’t climaxed once since October. The only thing keeping his mind in check was the hefty betting pool he and his friends, Jake, Jay and Sunghoon had put together.
The four of them knew they wouldn’t last the entire month, four incredibly high sex drives competing to see who would hold out from their girlfriends, or worse, their fists.
He was sure. keyword: was, at least sure that he could last longer than Jake. But as the saying goes, ‘you want what you can’t have the most.’
However, near the early days of November, you had received a phone call from Jake and Sunghoon. They wanted you to bait your boyfriend and make him lose for a small portion of the money. Jay had refused to take part in their scheme, he was determined to win fairly.
You didn’t even care about the money, it wasn’t as if Heeseung didn’t spoil you rotten anyways, but there was no mistaking how amusing the offer was, so you accepted.
After being with him for a while, you knew exactly what made his skin crawl with lust, all you had to do was play to your strengths, his weakness ( you ) and fully exploit the hold you had over him.
So, for the next few days, you would parade around the house with barely-there shorts and crop tops. If you felt extra mean, only a bra, because you knew his favourite part of you, the part that made him falter.
Your back, your spine. More specifically, the curve of it. His favourite sight to see over the couch armrest and occasionally on the kitchen counter with his hand fisted in your hair as a bonus point.
He would come home and gape at your form, half hard dick in his pants, it just wasn’t fair, not when you were bending over to reach something. Ass in the air with the rim of your lace panties showing.
He would have to tame himself, collaring his imaginations in the form of taking icy showers that did more for the migraines in his cranium than his other head, which he seemed to be thinking with a lot more lately.
Eventually the thread snapped when he arrived home spent from the day to the sight of you in a pair of shorts and white lace.
Oh, you were one evil little minx, weren’t you?
His jaw physically dropped, you were bent slightly over the counter, you had been perched there since you heard his keys jingling, but he didn’t need to know this was planned, yet.
He could feel his face warming intensely. Over and over, he tried to stop himself from dropping his gaze any further downwards.
But as soon as his eyes traced the slope of your spine and down to your shorts, he was a gone man. Not a single thought in his head as he scanned your figure.
You were starting to think you had been too cruel with the way his mouth physically dropped open when he caught sight of your pudgy pussy lips through the cotton of the tight hugging clothing.
Every movement you made was pure torture, there’s only so much a man could take.
Heeseung was going crazy, desperately attempting to redirect his blood from flowing downwards, his ears were red, hands twitching ever so close to his crotch.
“Hiya, Hee. Long day?”
Deer-like eyes fluttered to yours, his mouth shutting to swallow the thick saliva that had been pooling in his mouth.
“Mmh..yeah, I guess so…” He trailed off, you don’t even think he registered what you were asking him. He tried to think of all the possibilities that could come from the bet: a holiday in Jeju, a better car, a new set of lingerie for when he’s ripped through the ones you’re wearing…
“Heeseung…Earth to Hee..?” You laughed, knowing the full effect of what seeing you like this had done to him.
When he finally decided to screw the bet he dropped his bags and rushed towards you and hauled you over his shoulder, uncaring of the surprised squeal you let out. It was like he had lost all rationality after abstaining for so long.
“Fucking slut, you did this on purpose didn’t you?” He growled, hand spanking your ass that was atop his shoulder. You giggled behind him, only just realising that you had spilled your intentions.
Heeseung kicked open the door and manhandled you onto the mattress, ripping the shorts off of you.
Your bra, shoved above your tits. He unclipped it from behind with a well practised hand, and threw it somewhere.
You almost moaned at his assertiveness, he was being rough and you lived for it, punishing you for making him fail. The perfect Lee Heeseung who never failed a class during his time in school, or ever, for that matter.
He shoved his sweatpants down, the bulge in his boxers making your mouth water and pussy flutter in anticipation.
“Making me lose like that, nasty girl. If ‘m gonna lose make it worth it” he breathed out aligning his slick reddened tip against your heat. After restraining himself for so long, he had so so so much to give you.
You threw your head back, throwing your arms onto his shoulders, gripping harshly. He almost came when he pushed himself into you, taking a deep ragged breath as he started to piston his hips into yours.
You cried out his name when he hit your cervix, becoming putty in his arms with your spine curling off of the bed.
He slid his hand underneath your back, his palm against your skin and pushed towards him.
“Heeseung! Hee, s-slow down…nghh” you slurred underneath him. He merely groaned in response, murmuring something about you being able to take it.
His ears ringed wildly, but there was something missing…
Suddenly, he took his arm from your back and unsheathed himself, you whined at the loss. He flipped you onto your front. Once you realised what he wanted, you got on your hands and knees, pushing your ass up towards him, slick dripping down your thighs lewdly.
He slid inside again, immediately ploughing into you as if he wanted to commit the way your walls pulsed and squeezed around his cock to memory.
The new angle had you seeing stars, dropping to your elbows.
“Hngh..Wanted this pretty pussy for so fucking long” he panted behind you. You could barely respond, or hear with the way you were screaming his name over and over again, you could feel the curved shape of his length slamming into parts of you that made you drool slightly.
“So. Fucking. Long” He groaned in between thrusts, the end of his babbling starting to sound suspiciously like a whine, you were going to kill him with your body, he was sure of it. and he wouldn't have it any other way.
With the way you were squeezing around his length, he really didn’t expect to last long, the drag of his length was so delicious it made you want to cry, if you weren't already.
“Hee, Don’t stop!” You squealed as his tip hit the spongey spot that had you salivating all over the pillowcase, face pressed into it harshly, wet spots emerging. oh yeah these would have to be changed...
“Fuck fuck fuck can’t h-hold on any longer- hah. Come with me please ...baby” he spluttered.
With one last drive into you, he spilled, it just wouldn’t stop. You came around him then, eyes rolled to the back of your head. He kept on coming, your combined juices spilling out of your hole as he started to ride out the intense orgasm with you, pearly liquid snaking out of your stuffed hole without him having to pull out.
Coming down to earth, you registered his cock waking up inside of you, how could he not? The sight of the frothy pearly ring around his length mid pull out had made him hard again.
“Hngg-h c-can’t take anymore” you whimpered.
You should’ve known by then, that your words would fly over his head as his eyes raked all over your body. Handprints on your ass, waist and the cum oozing out of you. It was just too much for him.
“You can take one more for me…cant you? Jus..need it again” he whispered. His eyes were glazed over, completely fixated on the curves of your body and the evidence of his desire.
He bent down, chest against your back, and buried his face in your neck. The action driving his hips forward, causing you to moan under your breath.
Of course you wanted more, after all, you too had not climaxed since November, ( disregarding the time when you fucked yourself on your vibrator while he was showering to see his reaction.) After regaining a better hold of his senses he began to trail kisses from your shoulder blade to your ear.
He bit down on your earlobe, a sensitive spot of yours. Unexpecing the harsh bite you squirmed, as he began to continue thrusting inside of you. “I need this..Y/N, y-you know you want it too, don’t you?”
He sucked on the skin below your ear, creating a mark you would have to cover tomorrow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, or notice with the way he was actively hitting your sweet spot.
You moaned again and again until it drowned the filthy squelches of your combined releases echoing within the confines of your shared room.
“Nghh you’re so-so soooo cruel” he slurred.
He was quickly losing all sense of thought again, who knew that sex bans could completely change a man? It was as if he never wanted to disconnect with you again.
“Teasing me l-like that, shit- can’t hold for much longer…”
You decided that with the energy you have left to switch positions again until you were sitting on him.
He leant down the latch onto one of your perked up nipples, swirling the areola in his mouth, occasionally swapping sides and sucking marks.
You started to bounce on him. Raising and lowering your hips with a loud plap! each time. He moaned whilst sucking on your left tit, the vibration shooting through your spine, making you shiver.
Your gummy walls were being impaled on his dick, though, this time it felt different.
His hands were digging into the fat of your waist, almost engulfing your stomach with the sheer size of them. “Feels so good, Hee” you moaned. He stopped licking at your chest and threw his head back in pleasure, biting his lip raw and bloody to repress his sounds.
You were starting to get tired, mentally cursing yourself at the way your hips stuttered. Heeseung started to thrust upwards whilst moving you with his hands, doubling the strength of your movements.
“Please! P-please Hee! Ohhh Fuck fuck fuck!” You screamed, what you were begging for was far past any concerns you had.
Your mouth dropped open, curses and pornographic noises flowing out. You pressed his bottom lip with your thumb, dragging his mouth open so you could hear him.
He took your thumb into his open mouth, swirling his wet muscle around it, the salty taste of your digit making his eyes water in his lust drunk haze.
The strong dominant version of himself was nowhere to be found, instead he became reduced to a whimpering mess. He was seeing stars and galaxies beyond, pussydrunk bastard.
As you both neared the peak he pushed your bent spine further in towards him and reached down to play with your clit, keeping a hand on your hip, increasing the pace at which he was moving your body.
The words pouring out of his mouth were unintelligible, especially with all of the spit trailing from the corner of his lips and your thumb.
“Fuuuuck-haah- cant b’lieve ’tried to go a month without this pussy” he cut himself off with a moan when you clenched around him, a telltale sign that you were close.
“Then don’t- Jus fill me up, hee” You practically shrieked, the added stimulation and assault from his ministrations driving you to the brink along with him, the neighbours were going to file a lengthy complaint, and you both knew it.
He had you writhing and screaming so loud, you were sure the neighbours would file noise complaints. “Oh-Shit－ Hee! ‘m gonna- m’gonna-“
“Yeah? Gonna cum all over me? Want it all over- need it” he ordered, and who were you to say no?
Your mind was reeling, it was like no other climax you had ever had with him, you could feel the difference in the coils of heat spinning in your tummy.
The agonising pinching and circling and flicking of your clit got quicker, throwing you over the edge when－abruptly －you screamed and a gush of fluid splashed onto Heeseung's stomach and all over the sheets.
You collapsed on top of him, nails digging into his shoulder muscles while he fucked you through it.
“Fuck, did you just- did you squirt on me? Ohh I cant- mnhh yr, so hot sososofucking sexy- ah shit..”
Heeseung came without warning, unable to last with the fluttering of your walls constricting around him. Thighs shuddering with overstimulation.
Further into the night, he wouldn’t stop until you squirted again, it didn’t matter if it was his fingers, dick or mouth, having been starved for so long, you’ll compensate for it right?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
sunghoon knows you, more than any of your pathetic fans could dream of. he knows the notes of your perfume, the colour of your underwear set, the hotel you’re staying at. above all, sunghoon knows you’re his – and if you don’t know that, well, you’re about to find out.
✘ pairing: idol f!reader x stalker sunghoon
✘ length: 9k
✘ content: stalking, generally creepy and gross behaviour, unrealistic situations (reader winning the idgaf war), smut with blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex, slight degradation and breeding kink, 18+ mdni
✘ notes: requested by @areumhwang2000! this got way longer than intended and idek how well it turned out but :p ty for sharing and i hope u enjoy mwah
AT LONG LAST, THE CURTAINS HAVE DRAWN. what has been the better part of hours stretched across an entire day has felt like nothing but mere seconds to sunghoon. at long last, he can peel his eyes away from the glimpses of sweet heaven before him without risk of missing anything.
for the first time in hours, sunghoon can blink.
initially, it offers no effect; eyes long past dried out like they’ve been baking under a lamp. sunghoon screws them shut, watches colours explode behind his lids until he can feel tears dotting his lashes from the pressure.
matter of fact, he hasn’t closed his eyes for so long that he could probably fall asleep within seconds, even in the position he’s in: slumped in an uncomfortable wooden chair, sat facing the window of his hotel room as neon lights flicker by.
for a moment, he considers it. his head throbs with a migraine from how long he’s been forcing his eyes to stay wide open, and there’s no point sitting here now that things have just gotten boring. you’ve just shut him out, like a prude. a tease. suddenly caring after an entire day of paying no mind to your ajar curtains – starting at the ass crack of dawn when you pulled them back to welcome in the sunlight.
sunghoon accepted that invitation, too.
it’s not like his attention could be anywhere other than the view of your hotel across from his – not until his body physically shuts down from exhaustion in short, pathetic bouts – but he pulled a chair from the sad excuse of a dining table and sat his ass down right in front of his window; where he’s been unmoving, unblinking, as you went about your day since. acting oblivious to the audience you’ve practically begged to flock over to you, just flaunting yourself out there for any old chump to drool over if they were so lucky to look up from the street or out of their window.
he considered getting toothpicks to keep his eyelids pried open in those instances where his body began to nod off, until he jolted wide awake and freshly energised at the sight of you padding by the window in nothing but a towel. skin glistening, hair damp and running stray beads of water down your shoulders.
sunghoon ran his tongue over his teeth – oh, how he wished he could lick up every last droplet from your body, suck your hair into his mouth and taste the strawberry shampoo you so famously use.
your teasing didn’t stop there. you made it a point to keep walking by that window, just throwing yourself at sunghoon as you showed off your new matching lace underwear, then returned in a skimpy pajama set.
who walks by one window that many fucking times as they’re getting dressed? you have to be doing it on purpose. god, you’re such a damn….flirt.
he’s not complaining though. of course not! the fleeting sight of you each time, just innocently trotting along by the window, was enough to pull a good few orgasms out of him; even with his aching joints in this stiff fucking chair.
he’s scarcely left his room at all, which is only due to the fact that he’s mirroring you. you’ve been isolating for days on end ever since wrapping up the tour stop in this city. there was a deliberate few days separating this concert from the next one to give you some time to sightsee, make the most of a break here and take a breather from your schedules – yet you’ve done nothing but remain holed up in that hotel room ever since performing for thousands on stage.
it’s like you know it’s ‘cause he’s watching, isn’t it?
sunghoon paid good fucking money for this view. jake thought he was being smart, snagging a room only a few doors down on your floor. thought he could hear you through the walls, maybe coincidentally bump into you each time you leave. except, you haven’t left once – only room service or your staff visiting to deliver food, offer company. jake isn’t getting shit for what he dropped a whole paycheck on, and yet you’re over here prancing around half-naked for sunghoon’s eyes to feast on.
sunghoon heaves a sigh, stretching his arms out above his head until the joints pop. aches throb in his forearms, the muscles exhausted from when he was jerking off and having back to back orgasms just staring at the view of your empty hotel room.
it’s been good fun with you, but the time’s come for you to actually leave. tomorrow morning is your flight to the next city. you’ll be forced to go outside – much like sunghoon, as he’s forced to follow you.
he’s been neglecting his own body in favour of catching any sight of yours through the window. the last time he took care of his health was with the sole purpose of attending your concert here.
he’ll need to present himself as a real person again. take an actual shower and wash his hair. shave the stubble off his face, maybe even tweeze his eyebrows. he wants to look good for you when you see him. because you will – as you have before.
waving at him in the stands, blowing him a kiss at barricade, smiling at him like an old friend at the send off. each memory more cherished than the last – each instance the red string of fate grows tauter between you.
of course, the crowd is all thinking the same thing. he’s aware of that, he’s not stupid.
but they’re not him. they don’t know you like he does.
can any of your other fans name the brand of perfume you spritzed on after your shower this morning? (gucci flora, naughty girl… you have a brand deal with dior!) can they count the amount of underwear sets you folded into your suitcase? (5, all pastels. you must wash them at each stop.) can any of those pathetic, delusional bottom feeders say with confidence that you opened your curtains to let them in?
yeah.
he didn’t think so.
—
sunghoon hates the airport. almost as much as he hates camping outside of the concert venues. everyone here is in a rush and shoving and breathing down each other’s necks. he’s been here since the early morning to secure a nice, clear view when you arrive, but he’s gradually been shoved to third from the front in the crowd that’s gathered. god, some people have no manners these days. whatever happened to fandom etiquette? they’re all here for the same person – you – but it’s like every man for himself.
“ay, wait,” jake nudges him from the side, tilting his phone to sunghoon. “she’s just about to arrive.”
sunghoon narrows his eyes at the screen, scanning over the text messages before jake shuts it off with a mutter to mind his damn business. but sunghoon already recognised the contact name. it was your make-up artist – he’s bought bits of information off of her in the past. never got his money’s worth though, she’s really vague with promises to reveal more if you spend more. sunghoon doesn’t waste his time with that scam shit. jake being privy to live updates of your location though?
“how do you get so much out of her? she’d never tell me anything good.” sunghoon asks, tone bored as if he’s not seething with jealousy right now.
jake pokes his tongue out, flashes suggestive eyes while giggling to himself. sunghoon nearly gags. sleeping with your staff while he claims to want you? no fucking shame…
there’s a roar of commotion at the front, and sunghoon stands on his tip-toes for a clear view as he cranes his neck towards the entrance. someone pushes him from behind, cussing him out for being too fucking tall, but sunghoon can’t hear anything other than ringing in his ears as he recognises all your staff and security filing out through the doors. and then, there you are: just as pretty as when he last saw you through the hotel window.
sunghoon’s momentarily lifted off his feet as the crowd rippled, following after your crew while you wave and bow to all the fans gathered here in your name. sunghoon keeps losing his balance, losing sight of you as he’s pushed from all angles. people get barbaric in your presence.
some (stupid) few from the front divert, rushing up to your staff and earning a hard shove to the ground by your security. they’re not all that competent though – a taller fan, one sunghoon recalls as riki that he camped with at your osaka concert, is able to shoulder his way through your stylists and grab your arm. he’s wrangled away by security within the next second, but the damage was done – they can actually get to you. so, they try.
the airport erupts into a frenzy. the mob of fans sprint at your crew, hands gripping and legs stretching to get in between your security, while they struggle to keep the overwhelming number of them at bay. jake pats sunghoon’s arm before he himself sets off, waiting behind the more forward fans and watching for an opening in your guard.
a thought forms in sunghoon’s head. he takes out the black mask tucked into his pocket and slings it around his ears, then pulls his cap down low, covering his face. he, too, watches for an opening – but he doesn’t make himself a known threat. he stands back, smiles under his mask when a fight breaks out between the fans. idiots. the horde could easily overpower the common enemy of security, if only they weren’t throwing punches at the competition beside themselves.
sunghoon pivots the instant his chance appears. a split second decision, he’s flying on his feet to his mark – your staff parted and separated just perfectly enough that he flies under the radar when he steps between them, instantly playing the part as he shoves at the other fans he was just standing beside. he recognises someone he traded insider info with for an exclusive signed photocard of you, someone else who gave sunghoon water when he had heatstroke camping outside of your manila venue.
and then there’s jake. jake’s eyes widen, shouting something that sunghoon can’t quite catch – not when he launched jake at the wall without a second thought after he appeared in front of him. when a security guard glances at sunghoon, hands too full to think to get a good look at him, he just turns his attention to another frenzied fan. sunghoon’s mouth twitches into a grin under the mask. he’s successfully disguised himself in the role as just another terrified staff member.
holy shit. he’s thought about doing this before, but never once considered it’d even work. he’s on top of the fucking world right now. this was meant to be!
sunghoon acts like he’s giving an appreciative bow to the guard for protecting him, then backs himself further into the crew, body jostling as they all struggle to shuffle forward – fans still pressing relentlessly in from the outside and blocking the way through.
he wedges his way through your frantic staff until he catches sight of your hair from behind, the heavens from above parting the clouds and casting a halo of light down on you. sunghoon holds his phone up to his ear before he taps your back, and you flinch at the sudden touch, panicked pretty eyes glancing over your shoulder.
he covers the phone’s speaker – acting as if he’s on a call – before he strains to shout over the commotion: “miss, i’ll lead you out of here! i’ve just called the airport security, they’re coming to help,”
“but where?” you shout back, perfect brows pinched and perfect lips pouted in worry. he notices the way your eyes flit all over what little of his face isn’t concealed, straining to recognise him, remember a name or a position or anything. he’s this close, this familiar with you – how do you know him again? you’re so cute, futilely trying to figure him out.
“there’s a private lounge down that hall,” sunghoon points, and your glossy eyes follow. “they told us to wait there until this crowd is dispersed. it’s too out of control to stay here.”
you nod, quick to believe but not as quick to trust. you know that you know him, but you still don’t know where you recognise him, and it’s prickling at you.
sunghoon says some muffled bullshit through his mask into the phone speaker, then pretends to hang up the phone call. he gives you a quick nod of assurance, offering his hand.
you take it and his skin is on fire.
sunghoon looks around him frantically, acting like he’s trying to speak with any of the guards but they’re too busy to notice him. he sighs theatrically, yelling at the ear of one that he’s taking you to another room. uncaring if the useless fuck even heard, sunghoon’s already pivoting with you in tow – beelining to the private guest’s lounge (looking up the airport’s map last night came in handy), fingers taut around your wrist like a noose.
you both rush up to the desk receptionist, who instantly recognises you and starts bumbling through her practiced greeting. you’re too frazzled to reply, so sunghoon does the talking – playing further into his little disguise.
he’s not really acting when he’s too out of breath to say his words properly, just huffing excuses and puffing lies, hoping it forms a believable sentence that a real staff member would say. the noise from the ongoing chaos outside feeds through the automatic glass door, and so the receptionist doesn’t even let sunghoon finish his bullshit before she’s nodding and leading them into the extra private vip room of the already private lounge.
you step in first, sunghoon on your heel. the receptionist starts saying some jargon about if you needed any more help but sunghoon’s already shutting the door in her face. the lock clicks, and your head whips to level him with a confused glance.
sunghoon grabs a nearby chair and pulls it up to the knob, barring the door. you watch with bated breath as he rotates back to face you – tugging off his mask and cap, grinning maniacally.
he’s thought about this more times than he can count. he’s dreamed of this exact scenario, ending in a slightly different yet drastic way each time.
he braces for you to scream for help, to cry for mercy, to curse at him or run away from him. you might put up a fight, or you might just surrender. they’re his favourite fantasies, the one that enters his mind most often when he’s fisting his cock with your face pulled up on his phone.
but you don’t do anything of the sort. you don’t do anything he was prepared for, anything that he’s imagined countless of times before.
“sunghoon, right?” you say, recognition bright in your eyes as you point at him as if unexpectedly running into a friend.
he freezes like an idiot.
“how have you been?” you purr, sitting on the room’s couch. you make yourself comfortable when you lean back, cross your legs. the picture of a worry-free woman. how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?
how do you know his name?!
“you remember me..?” is all he can croak, shifting stupidly in his spot with a thousand yard stare.
“of course i remember a familiar face,” you simply smile. “i still have the little crocheted penguin you gifted me at the houston send-off. i keep it on my shelf. it’s adorable.”
that catapults sunghoon’s heart over the fucking moon. do you understand how fucking long that tiny thing took him to learn how to make, and then actually make it? the fact that you still have it is something else entirely, but knowing the exact send-off too? because sunghoon doesn’t miss a single one.
he doesn’t always get barricade, nor does he always get an interaction in with you, but he’s always there at your concerts. he’d rather die than skip showing up for his girl. every stop around the globe, he’s followed you. even when you’re not performing – attending events as a brand ambassador, going on vacations that aren’t on your public schedule. he’s easily dropped multiple zeros in dollars on paying off your sleazy staff members to forfeit insider information or set aside the vip tickets.
it’s how he knows you’re a single girl, too. have been for quite a while.
“so how have you been?” you ask him, smiling too fondly for someone who’s essentially his hostage. maybe all the time he spent meticulously doing skincare and waxing his face paid off – the stockholm syndrome affecting you in real time because he’s that hot.
“oh– well, i don’t do much.” he replies without thinking. stupid, fucking stupid piece of shit. you probably think he’s such a boring loser. scrambling for something to impress you, he adds: “i’ve been spending a lot of money on a certain special someone.”
sunghoon grins, intentionally popping the dimples from his cheeks so he looks like less of a threat.
“is that so?” you ask, arching your back as you sit upright. his eyes track the movement, entranced. you’re flirting. “she must be a very lucky girl.”
sunghoon waves it off, like it’s nothing. because it is. you’ve consumed his life – there is no him without you. your music is what pulled him from the murky pits of water in his own head. instead of letting the waves drag him under, you made him want to tread above the surface and stay breathing. just so he could watch your career grow, your dreams come true. you saved his life and so he owes it to you. this is how he leads a fulfilling existence; following after you is how he breathes.
“just want to make her happy. see her smile. be the reason she keeps making music, keeps living her dream.” sunghoon murmurs, taking space with each word, stepping until he’s towering before you. “are you? is it everything that you dreamed of?”
there’s a flicker across your face of something that he catches, but can’t quite place. before he can even interpret it, you’re smiling again like the sparkle in your eyes never left, shrugging one shoulder.
“not in certain moments. but when i’m performing, that’s where i’m really living.”
sunghoon’s hands twitch at his sides, wishing so desperately to reach out for you, to hold you for comfort or to shake you around until you cry, to throw you down and demand what he wants. he doesn’t know. he just needs to prove that he can affect you a sliver of the amount that you affect him. you’re not even scared right now. do you even care that he’s here? would you even react if security barged down the door and shot him in the head?
there’s an endless list worth of questions he’s wanted to ask you before he dies – industry gossip, your deepest secrets that not even staff know, future releases, specific questions about you that are just to satiate his own greed to know every corner of your being – but he can’t bring himself to acknowledge any of it. he just blurts–
“do you think i won’t hurt you?”
sunghoon’s quite used to the feeling of keeping his eyes open as wide as possible, and he does so that he can take in every little flinch of your face. any reaction that passes across your features, no matter how miniscule. anything for him to interpret – to know if this is all an elaborate act, that you’re actually shaken to your core in fear of the man before you. but–
nothing. nothing. nothing.
he holds his eyes open so he doesn’t miss anything, but you do the same right back at him. you don’t blink either, so your faces just stare back at one another, expressionless and carved from stone. he locked you in here with him, he should be the one demanding all the cooperation – and yet all the power is in your hands. he doesn’t understand.
“will you?” you ask, unphased.
he could, he thinks. he’d leave a mark at least – proof he was here, he got this close. he’d be hailed as some sort of messiah among your most devoted fans.
but he doesn’t want to. he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, heat flaring behind his nose the only warning before guilty tears nearly dot his lashes. he shuts his eyes hard enough, quick enough that they don’t water.
you shift in your seat, seeming intrigued.
“no?” you ask him, and he nods in tiny again. you smile. “no. i didn’t think you were that type of person.”
sunghoon’s breath rattles out from his throat. you shift forward, your hands reaching up to hover by his legs. you stare at him through your lashes, and his cock stands to attention just at the sight of you so close. regardless of if you’re even asking – he nods.
your palms gently plant on either side of his thighs, and so much electricity courses through sunghoon’s blood that he’s almost worried he’ll zap and kill you.
“i don’t know if i’ve ever told you before, but.. you’re really handsome, sunghoon.”
his adam’s apple bobs almost painfully in a harsh gulp. it does nothing to relieve his cotton mouth.
“you’re gorgeous.” he chokes out. “so much. perfect.” he’s just murmuring nonsense, brain turning to complete mush at the feel of your hands sliding over his pants.
you sigh softly. “i feel so grateful, to be loved by you.”
your hands glide to his front, his cock twitching as the heat of your fingertips graze closer. your thumbs brush at his hipbone, lingering at the band of his pants.
“let me?” you whisper. so quietly, he thinks he must’ve hallucinated it.
but he blinks, once and again, and he knows that the way you’re looking at him is real – because his brain could’ve never conjured it.
you’re so fucking pretty. licking your lips, looking at him through eager eyes. fuck, you’re asking him to let you? even if you didn’t have his word, you could do whatever the fuck you want to him and he’d just take it like the grateful man he is.
realising he’s making you wait, sunghoon chokes on his answer – his own hands fumbling to unbutton the pants for you. shaky fingers drag his zipper down, ripping the flyer open enough to reveal a glimpse of the prominent bulge in his boxers underneath.
you follow his lead, flashing a smile that melts his entire being as your fingers find his waistband. you tug gently, and he winces as his length pulls with the movement. he only hopes that you don’t mention the massive stain of pre already there. the front of his pants have been growing tighter with each minute since he locked you in this room.
slowly, you pull the fabric down until his cock bobs free, flushed red and leaking like a faucet. you blink at its size, wetting your lips again as your fingers reach out to wrap around the base. sunghoon just manages to stifle the sob of relief that nearly left his chest.
he can’t help how his greedy pelvis bucks forward slightly, and is just as quick to cuss himself out for being so selfish. you make a small hum before leaning in, tapping your lips to the tip. so fucking soft..
you stretch your mouth around him, swallowing his whole length down until you meet your own fingers. sunghoon’s shaking above you, not even registering the embarrassing noises leaving his mouth from the pure ecstasy. you’re so hot and wet around him, tongue so perfectly tracing the vein on the underside of his length.
you reverse the movement, pulling back and sucking as you go. sunghoon can’t even form a coherent thought, hands trembling at his sides when he should really reach out and pinch to check if you’re real. though the way your mouth seals tight around him feels real enough, the way your tongue swirls his head and laves at the slit.
overwhelming pleasure seizes his body as you begin to bob your head, stars exploding from the inside out – and sunghoon blacks out.
by the time he comes back to, he doesn’t immediately realise what happened. it’s not until he winces at the near painful sensitivity in his cock – glancing down as your glossy lips pop off his length, the sharp sensation sending goosebumps racing across his flesh.
you grin intentionally at him, opening your mouth to show the mess coating your tongue. it’s only then that sunghoon realises he even came.
prematurely. like a fucking virgin.
you making a show of swallowing it, throat bobbing as the taste of him slides down. his cock twitches at the sight.
sunghoon gathers his bearings, runs a hand through the sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. there’s a laundry list of things he would (and could) kill to do to you. every scenario he’s imagined, every position he’s daydreamed. his mind overloads with all the possibilities, causing his body to blank and still – while you’re still just there, waiting for him.
he shakes his head, settling on the decision that he’ll drop to his knees and return the favour. taste your slick between his teeth, unravel you on his tongue and feel you around his fingers. he almost drools just picturing it.
BANG. BANG.
sunghoon leaps from his skin at the sudden noise, whipping his head to the door and watching it shake in its frame, the knob wiggling. there’s overlapping voices on the other side yelling out your name, but you don’t seem the least bit rattled.
you take it upon yourself to tuck sunghoon back into his pants, zipping it shut and giving his thigh a little pat – as if to reassure him. his heart would swell with affection, if only it wasn’t completely gripped with fear.
“no need to worry!” you call out to the concerned shouts, then flash sunghoon an apologetic glance. “sorry about all that, excuse me.”
you cross the room to the door casually, as if you’re just letting in some guests to your home. you move the chair to the side, flick the lock and step back expectantly – the door flying open and slamming into the wall from the force.
staff swarm you and fuss about, forming a protective blockade around you. that annoying receptionist appears at the door, pointing at sunghoon with a glare – then your security is quick to follow and hone in on him. sunghoon braces himself to sprint, to fight if he must, but you intervene; calling out to the guards and shooing them away from him like flies.
“yes, yes. i’m alright.” you brush off your dress, throwing sunghoon a deliberate smile over your shoulder. “just catching up with a friend.”
not one of your crew buy that for one second, but without any signs of a visible struggle (and your own word), sunghoon knows that they can’t put a single finger on him. he smirks to himself, the power surge pumping hot in his veins.
your crew are about to usher you back outside – sunghoon picking up scattered murmurs, one of which being that a few fans were arrested – but the circle halts with you as you spin on your heel, weaving through your staff and standing in front of sunghoon like everyone in this room isn’t watching.
his heart beats like a rabid hare thumping its foot, head light and airy from the adrenaline.
you reach for his fingers, lacing them with yours gently, and sunghoon catches your staff bracing themselves behind. you pay them no mind.
“i’ll see you in sydney?” you smile. not one of your practiced or artificial ones – genuine. a bright ray of light to warm him and only him.
sunghoon melts. he nods, pulse frenzied under the swipe of your thumb on his wrist. like hell he wouldn’t be there.
your smile splits even wider into your cheeks, eyes sparkling.
“it’s a date then.”
—
following his impulsive stunt at the airport, sunghoon only narrowly avoided arrest, which he suspects is because of your own interference. he’s still able to catch the flight directly after yours and follow you en route to australia.
which– well, you came onto him, so what law was really broken on his part? none that seemed to bother you too much, seeing as you were more than happy to shove his cock in your mouth.
sunghoon hasn’t washed since. he doesn’t want to scrub off the traces of your saliva, doesn’t want to smother your touch with his own; knowing it couldn’t begin to compare. he could almost cry from the pain of his boners when replaying the memory, but he refuses to relieve it himself.
riding on that extreme high, sunghoon has the confidence to text your number. he bought it from some staff members ages ago but couldn’t find the words to strike up a conversation, one that’d catch your eye among all the other fans choking up your private messages.
typing out and backspacing for what might’ve been hours, sunghoon settles on literally just stating his name and a simple hello.
he doesn’t think he needs any more than that, really. you already remembered his face, name, the penguin he crocheted – and sucked him off – so you’re well acquainted at this point.
he may as well just ask you out, right? he knows for a fact that you’re not exactly handing out blowjobs like candy for fans. you have self-respect, you’re a romantic at heart. you wouldn’t just.. throw yourself at anyone, not if it didn’t mean something. right?
he’s known you’re the one for him, only one all these years – and it seems just getting you in a room alone is how it clicked for you, too.
strung along by red twine, dancing around your fate at concerts and events – then pulled as if on a leash, until you were on your knees and wrapping your mouth around him.
sunghoon stuffs his face in his hands as it burns red, rolling around in the hotel bed and giggling to himself. fuck, what a slowburn. such a damn tease. you like the chase, huh? you like seeing him lose his fucking mind, pining after you?
at the sudden ding of his phone, he rises upright in bed like a vampire and swipes the device from his side table – heart palpitations revving up like a harley as he reads your name in the notification.
you actually answered.
not a question on how he got your number, or why he locked you in that room, or what he even wants from you. you happily greet him right back. ask about his flight, if he’s settled in alright.
and then you just… talk. like real people do.
naturally, he’s got access to your schedule, so he knows how impossibly busy you’ll be within the day, every hour accounted for leading up to the concert. but you still find time to text him back, to engage in conversation and inquire about how he’s doing like the absolute sweetheart you are. you get to know him, really know him, outside of just the devilishly handsome guy who’s made your music his entire personality. you don’t talk a whole lot about yourself – but all of it goes without saying. sunghoon already knows everything there is to know about you except for what goes on in your actual brain.
you seem.. bored, almost. like he’s the most interesting thing you’ve got going on, as a world famous popstar. conversations turning dull when he asks about your life off the clock – but you’ll light right up when you’re talking about him. asking about his hobbies and his schooling and his parents.
each word sunghoon trades with you feels like he’s boiling alive and then dipped in ice water. it’s startling how it all feels so natural, flowing and blooming into something genuine. sunghoon would have you in any way he’d be lucky enough to get – as in sick with fear or scathing with hatred – but he’s not equipped to understanding what it actually is. you’re giving him your time because you get along, and you think he’s hot and you laugh at his jokes.
you never mention how he’s followed you across the globe, how he’s always there as an audience when you’re performing or when you’re not even working. but, then again, you also might not even care. considering you’re still chatting him up over text despite it all when you could’ve just.. let the authorities deal with him.
the day of your concert, sunghoon arrives to camp outside of the stadium before the sun’s even up. he’s joined by some familiar faces (jake among them, who flips him off and doesn’t acknowledge him again) while waiting through the sweltering southern heat, eyes glued to his phone as he waits for you to text him back in fleeting increments throughout the day.
he never doubted it, but sunghoon’s amazed by how he keeps falling even deeper in love with you. it’s like you couldn’t give less of a fuck about who he is and what he does – about who you are and why you shouldn’t even be allowing him space in your life.
but circumstances can be damned where fate is concerned.
in the end, it’s you and him.
it’s like heaven’s gates parting when the crowd’s finally allowed inside the venue, sunghoon rushing in for his rightful spot at the barricade. time crawls by painstakingly slow, bodies packed in like sardines and overlapping voices like nails on a chalkboard to his ears. the hours are punctuated with a reply or two from you, and the bliss is enough to get him through the wait. right up until you text him that you’re nervous, he wishes you good luck, and within the next minute you’re raised up onto the stage via platform for the soundcheck.
your eyes find sunghoon in an instant. you trade big, cheesy grins like two puppies in love – confused whispers and jealous glares rolling through the crowd.
you go about performing as usual, singing an interesting choice of tracks, on the spicier side of your discography. you even make it a point to dance a little for him, standing on the edge of the stage to give him an upskirt view – even checking if he’s looking with a cheeky smile. his cock throbs where it’s pressed into the railing, the cold metal ineffective in deterring it. god, he’s fucking crazy about you.
when the soundcheck comes to a torturous end, you throw sunghoon a wink, holding his heated stare as you disappear below the stage.
well. after all that he thinks he needs a good fucking wank.
he’s so dazed in his own little world, sunghoon doesn’t even register the crowd parting behind him – not until he’s being grabbed on the shoulder, a gruff male voice low in his ear.
a security guard roughly spins him around, leading him out of the pit, his beloved barricade spot being filled within the next second. sunghoon can’t even bring himself to feel pissed off at the loss of his view or at the smug grins of jealous motherfuckers in the crowd – not when his heart sinks below his feet and his mind spins at a mile a minute as the guard pushes him through various dark corners and empty corridors.
did it all catch up to him? were you really fooling him? this is it, isn’t it? you were just building a case against him. you didn’t actually like him.
pfft, who was he kidding? you’ve got the evidence ready, the police are actively waiting outside to take him away in cuffs. oh fuck he’s so stupid. he’s so fucking stupid. this is what he gets for giving his heart to a woman, a celebrity at that. you’d never want him. there’s no way he’s the first fan you’ve done this with. he’s just a placeholder. you think you’re too good for him. you–
“sunghoon!”
the sound of your voice slices through his racing thoughts. the sight of your face hits him like an arrow to the chest, his thumper heart threatening to leap from his ribs.
you coo out something to him he can’t quite catch over the ringing in his ears – followed by a flick of your wrist to direct the security guard back out the door they came from.
you’re still dressed in the soundcheck outfit, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that makes your skin appear as if glowing, cloying in the air with a faint perfume. he thinks you’ve never looked prettier like this, out of breath and clammy; perceiving you without the filter of that perfectly curated idol image.
you set down an empty bottle of water before pacing over, stopping just before him. barely one step and he could close this distance. is that what you want?
“hey,” you get his attention, regarding him with such a soft smile that he nearly drops to his knees right then. “how was it?”
“good–” he answers plainly before stepping to you, leaving no time to react before both of his hands are swallowing either side of your waist. your breath hitches as he tugs you in, pressing himself flush against your front. “–you do this type of fan service often?” he grits out, locking much harsher words behind his teeth.
“what?” you stare cluelessly with big lost eyes, gasping when his fingers dig in until his nails sting your flesh.
“i can’t be the only one, right? fuck, i’m so dumb.” he chuckles bitterly to himself. “you trying to get more money out of me? or is this some kind of sick fun to you?” sunghoon shakes you in his arms, riling himself up more by the second. “huh? you enjoy leading your fans on?? tell me honestly please, don’t treat me like an idiot any more.”
“no.” you say, so firmly that it actually takes him aback. “i’d be in more trouble than you if anyone–”
sunghoon laughs, laughs at how absurd this situation is. how he’s wished and prayed for a chance to have you this close and now all he can feel is rage. his hand flies up to your hair, tugging your head back – the startled noise you let out going straight to his stiffening cock.
“you’re a slut, then? you let your fans use you so they keep coming back?” he pouts dramatically at you, before bearing his canines in a grin. “or are you hoping that we’ll leave you alone?”
the slope of your neck bobs with a gulp, his eyes tracking the movement. “i let you, because i like you.”
you watch his eyes flit rapidly over your face, searching desperately for any sign that you’re lying, playing him like a fool again.
“bet you tell them all that.” he huffs, not buying it for a second. “bet they all fall for it too.”
“there is no–” you scrunch your face when his fist curls tighter in your hair, letting out a noise that sounds nothing like frustration or fear. he could almost think that you’re..
“hoon.” you say sternly, the nickname catching him off-guard. his heart would almost swell over it if he wasn’t so close to ripping your fucking hair out in jealousy. “there is nobody else. i’ve been texting you because i want to. i asked my guard to bring you here so i could see you. god, i blew you at an airport! i’ve never even..”
you sigh, exasperated, and the pieces finally slide into place for sunghoon. they click slowly, even reluctantly, since the circumstances really are this hard to believe.
“you mean it?..” he mutters, fingers loosening in your strands.
“yes, of course i do.” testing the waters, your palms run up his chest to hold his cheeks with a featherlight touch, and sunghoon melts into it. “i see you all the time, and i’ve always wanted to get to know you more. but what could i do? nothing from my position.”
you want love, just like him. you want him, just like he wants you.
you don’t care about his intentions when he dragged you from your staff and locked you in a room. you don’t even care that he followed you all the way here from korea. you don’t give a single shit that he pays off your staff to provide him enough private info to warrant a lawsuit.
“you want me?”
“of course i do.” you echo, thumbs brushing tenderly across the pale of his cheek.
he licks his lips, anticipation and something more sinister bubbling in his blood, heating up his body. “say it.”
“i want you.”
sunghoon nearly moans hearing it from your mouth, his cock filling out his pants eagerly. he gives another tug on your hair, and his suspicions are confirmed when you whine. you like the pain. or do you just like being treated this way?
“do you now?” he says nearly mockingly, swiping his thumb across the plush of your lip to contrast the sting. you respond keenly: lips sealing around his thumb, dabbing your tongue on the skin. sunghoon curses lowly, breath growing heavier, and when you start to suck he has to pull away.
only to replace his hand with his mouth as he captures yours in a kiss. there’s no patience in it – one second in and already he needs more, tilting your head by the hair as he shoves his tongue in. licking against yours roughly, palate filling with your saliva, cock twitching as he tastes every corner of your mouth.
you ball fists in his shirt, whimpering quietly at how harshly he’s kissing you, how he’ll slightly pull your hair like a reminder. you just take it, better yet – you give back. you slide your tongue with his, rolling your hips into his body and earning a bite on your lower lip. you whine from the shock and sunghoon parts with you, tutting.
“you trying to piss me off?” he huffs out, stilling you by the waist with his free hand. you’re treading a fine fucking line of his self-control right now. if you’re not careful, he might really lose it. and he doesn’t want to hurt you – unless you want that. fuck. his cock pulses just considering it, and of course you felt it, flashing him a cheeky grin.
“do your worst.” you tell him, intentionally bucking your pelvis forward to rub against his boner. he feels the heat of you even through the fabric, and sunghoon heaves a gasp, every nerve in his body screaming to throw you to the ground and just take you.
there comes that fucking nickname again, “hoon”, needily whined against his earlobe – and you could hear a pin drop in the brief silence that follows, before his lips are smothering yours so desperately that his teeth scrape your gums, hands gripping impossibly tighter as he backs you into the closest wall.
sunghoon nearly shoves your body against it, kindness forgotten with his brain tuned into one sole purpose. he kisses you like he’s trying to consume you, palm trailing down the side of your body, stopping only to grope your breast here or squeeze your curves there. if he wasn’t so fired up, he’d take his time with you. kiss every inch of your body and draw out the pleasure. his cock is begging him for otherwise though.
he reaches a hand under this fucking skirt that’s burned into the deepest pit of his memories – and you moan in tandem when sunghoon’s fingers press into your panties, the fabric dipping where it’s soaked in your arousal. he has to remind himself to breathe as he runs his fingertips over the thin cotton, feeling each ridge from how it’s stuck to your cunt in arousal.
he slides a finger past the soiled fabric, dipping into the hot arousal pooled at your hole. his length pulses where it’s pressed into the meat of your thigh. sucking in a breath, sunghoon trudges past his own need as he gathers your slick on his index and middle, dragging the fingers up your folds. you shiver when he grazes your clit, melting into the prettiest whine as his fingers draws digit eights on the bundle of nerves.
with his hand focused on your clit, sunghoon busies his mouth when he latches it to your neck, smirk pressed into your skin with how you throb under his fingers in response. sunghoon runs his tongue over the juncture between your neck and shoulder, littering the skin with nips of his teeth and sucks of his mouth – leaving the mark of his presence in hickeys and bites. he laves at the salty sheen of sweat coating your body, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he tastes you in yet another way.
on that thought, he rotates his hand; thumb replacing the fingers on your clit with firm swipes, his index and middle breaching past your hole and curling up to make you see stars.
you’re unintelligible as he fucks you on his fingers, head lolled back into the wall as he ravages the slope of your neck, clenching down so perfectly he damn nearly cums just wondering how it’d feel wrapped around his cock.
“shit,” he groans as he presses particularly hard into your g-spot, feeling how tightly you wrapped around the digits as if on command. he rips his hand from your cunt suddenly, and you gasp at the sound of fabric tearing when he pulls your panties further to the side.
sunghoon licks at his fingers just so he can taste you down there too, your slick sweet on his palate. though it only serves to snap the last shred of his resolve, and before either of you know it he’s ripping his pants open so quick that the button flies to the floor – cock bobbing free and pressed to your cunt within the next second.
sunghoon lets out a sob, vision whiting out from how unbelievable you feel against him: your hole twitching where he’s just barely pressing his tip, a mix of your arousal and his pre running down his length. he bucks his pelvis slightly, cock rubbing through your wet folds. his tip nudges your clit and you both just tremble.
it takes everything in him and then some to not just thrust in and pound you like a dog in heat.
sunghoon tries to gather the words to ask for your permission, but all that leaves him is a hoarse exhale, cock pulsing where it’s buried between your folds. you snap him out of the daze when a hand comes to wraps around his bicep, preparing to ground yourself.
“i want it in,” you ask so nicely, batting your lashes at the man heaving like a beast before you. “please?”
that word singlehandedly airs out every thought left in his brain. sunghoon doesn’t even think, just acts as he snaps his pelvis and splits your pussy on his cock. one swift movement and he’s buried all the way in; balls pressed to your ass, body slumped against yours as you barely keep yourself upright.
you’re both a mess, arms wrapping around each other as an anchor, bodies pressed so tight your heartbeats start to hammer as one. sunghoon grinds forward, soiling his balls in the dripping arousal as he attempts to gently stretch you out. for your comfort, and for his own dignity, so he doesn’t cum right the fuck now. he knows he should’ve prepped you more, but he might have died from blood loss if he didn’t give attention to his raging boner for any longer.
although.. you’ve got a death grip around his cock. sunghoon usually jerks off hard and fast with a fist clenched so tight that it hurts, and still he can’t do anything but direct his own breathing as your cunt adjusts to his size. in and out, in and out..
fuck.
“fuck!” sunghoon cries out as he gives a quick thrust, barely even pulling out before sinking deeper, tip nudging your cervix as you gasp a moan. “f-fuck, fuck–” his hips stutter before they find a pace, bracing his hands on the wall behind as he drives his cock into you over and over.
your knuckles turn white where they’re holding onto his back for dear life, he’s sure to find tracks of scratches across the muscles tomorrow. yet he can’t even feel the sting over your pussy sucking him in – perfect. so perfect in how you flutter around his length with each thrust, your pretty whimpers and cries as he rams into your g-spot every time.
“god– you..you’re taking it!”
you babble out something that might be a reply, trembling fingers reaching for his neck to hold his face close. his chest twists with pure love for you. everything he’s done in your name, it paid off. it surmounted to this. you let him in, and now he’ll give you his blood.
“let me?” sunghoon pleads in a broken voice, hanging on by the thinnest thread as he pounds you into the wall, his lower belly coiled dangerously tight. he wants to cum inside you so bad. he wants to ruin you for anyone else. “let me, pleasepleaseplease–”
“yes, yes!” you plead right back, mouth falling open as he picks up to an animalistic speed.
a few good thrusts later and sunghoon’s spilling inside you, pace undeterred as he focuses on fucking as deep as possible inside you. cockhead dribbling warm ropes of cum into the bump of your cervix.
sunghoon slumps all of his weight onto yours as he chases his breaths, still nestled deep inside and groaning with each pulse of his cock. the comedown leaves him in some halfway point between heaven; bliss floating through his veins, a smile carved deep onto his lips.
this time, he pinches himself to check – and when he blinks, it all stays right where it was.
even in your state, you catch the gesture and breathe out a laugh, too exhausted to get the noise out. your knuckles run over his forearms, wondering when he’ll start to soften inside you.
sunghoon starts to kiss your neck again, and you have the realisation that he intends to keep going. you push him off you gently, reaching down to slip his still-hard cock out.
“as much as i don’t want to, i need to get back to work.” you remind him, your concert still very much looming on the evening.
sunghoon grimaces like the fact personally offends him – though he’s not sulking for long as he watches you pull him out and then tug your underwear back in place with one quick motion, soiling the fabric as his cum stuffs your cunt.
“i’m sorry about your spot,” you say, tenderly cupping his cheek and giving him soft eyes. “my staff know who you are now, and they could escort you to the private box?”
sunghoon nods, smiling stretching even wider, flashing his canines. he doesn’t need to prove he’s not a threat – you know, and you don’t care.
you brush your skirt down back into place. “i’ll see you after the send-off wraps up?”
you don’t have to tell him where you’ll be. the place that your staff picked out for post-show dinner and drinks. he already paid to know that. and you’d know this too.
but you don’t mention it as you leave him with a sweet kiss on the lips. in fact, he doesn’t think you ever will.
—
sunghoon didn’t know he had this much love in his body. all the blood that keeps his heart beating isn’t close to enough for what he wishes to give to you. his girlfriend. his world famous, popstar, funny and talented and gorgeously perfect girlfriend. ever since he first called you that he just can’t stop saying it.
sunghoon has a sort of notoriety now within his community of your fandom. he went silent following the infamous airport stunt and the guard pulling him from the sydney pit – and a few photos with someone resembling him at the after-show dinner had made the rounds around fans with insider connections. it was all kept very hush-hush, hadn’t made it to any outlets thank god. out of jealousy, he assumes. he made it and they didn’t.
you’ve fully opened yourselves to each other, much like normal couples do. he promised to leave that life behind for good, and feels immense shame for everything he did leading up to dating you.
and, cross his heart, he does. but after years of chasing this exact goal, he can’t but feel a thousandfold more obsessed with you. his girlfriend. you’re still his entire purpose in life. he gave up everyone else in his life who wasn’t you, so when you’re too busy with work to listen to him ranting on and on about how much he adores you, who else is he meant to turn to?
Anonymous posted:
We all know that y/n’s been dating lately. With the way she limps on stage, I bet she lets her boyfriend fuck her right before she goes on. He cums inside her, stuffs her full and puts her panties right back on so it’s all sealed tight inside. Performing and dancing around for the crowd with her man’s cum still hot in her pussy.
smooothoperator: shit that sounds so hot
heesung64: I’d kill to be her boyfriend and do that everyday
doggystyle02: fuck you i know exactly who this is. fuck off and die
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
discoholicmusic
jacobvanloon
dededos
