enhypen-btswriter

[enhypen-btswriter]

The city buzzed with its usual nighttime hush, fluorescent signs flickering outside your penthouse windows. But the only thing you saw was Heeseung—kneeling, head lowered, wrists bound lightly in red silk.

His breaths were shaky, his pale skin flushed with anticipation and something darker—submission.

“You wore this for me?” you asked lowly, circling him like a predator.

Heeseung nodded slowly. “You said… red suits me.” His voice was soft, nearly shy, but you could hear the desperation under it.

The silk shirt he wore clung to his body—loose enough to tease, translucent enough to torment. No pants, just black briefs that strained against his growing need.

You tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet your gaze. “And this is what you want?”

Heeseung swallowed, then whispered, “Yes, sir.”

A slow smile pulled at your lips. “Then I’ll give you what you need.”

You yanked him up by the wrist ties, backing him up against the cool wall. His breath hitched at the contact, and your lips ghosted over his cheek, then his throat.

Heeseung whimpered when your hands slipped under his shirt, nails grazing lightly over his buds. “You’ve been acting out lately,” you murmured. “Glancing at others. Testing me.”

“I wasn’t—” he started, but you silenced him with a firm grip on his jaw.

“I think you wanted to be punished.”

His lips parted, but he didn’t answer.

“Say it.”

“I… wanted it,” he breathed. “Wanted you to lose control.”

Oh, and you would. He was just so perfect and pliant.

You spun him around, pressing his chest to the glass window as your hands roamed down his back, pausing at the waistband of his briefs.

“Look outside,” you ordered. “Let them see what’s mine.” You lean forward, pressing your bulge against his ass, letting him feel what’s to come.

Heeseung’s breath fogged up the glass, and he let out a desperate sound when you palmed him from behind—slow, purposeful.

“Beg.”

“Please… please touch me,” he panted. “I need it—I need you.”

You chuckled darkly, pulling the briefs down and exposing the smooth curve of his backside. Your palm landed with a sharp smack, and he jolted, crying out beautifully.

“You think being pretty means you get whatever you want, baby?”

“No—No, sir.”

You pressed up against him, your breath warm on his ear. “But you are pretty,” you whispered, nipping at the shell of it. “So, I’ll make an exception.”

Heeseung’s knees nearly gave out as you guided him to the floor again, spreading his legs open and palming him once again. The prettiest moans leaving his mouth.

Teasingly pulling down his underwear, you start to leave marks all over his neck, collarbone, and down.

Once fully naked, you press a finger against his rim. “Should I? Should I not?,” you tease. Heeseung lets out a pitiful whimper, one that you can’t help but coo at. “Does my baby need me?”

“Please, just put it in.”

An abrupt finger is suddenly pushed into him and he lets a long moan. Before he knows it, there’s already 3 fingers when he feels that familiar knot in his stomach.

You pull out quick. “No! Please, I was so close,” he cries out. “Aw, were you close baby?” Heeseung only turns his head, eyes teary but desperate.

“You belong to me,” you murmured against his skin. “Your body, your moans, this mess you’re making on my floor… all of it.”

Heeseung was shaking, his knuckles white from gripping the floorboards. “Yes… yes, I’m yours.”

And you finally slid into him—slow and claiming—he arched, lips parted in a silent scream. “Let me hear you baby boy.”

“I want you ruined,” you groaned, thrusting deep. “So no one else can ever have this. Just me.”

Heeseung sobbed with pleasure, burying his face in the silk scarf you’d tied earlier, and gave himself to the fire.

“Sorry baby, it’s all my bad desires.”

_____________________________________________

I’m addicted to Heeseung and I need help. I also really love bad desires and I might to a Bad Desire Series with all the members (THATS A BIG MIGHT)

Ty

[enhypen-btswriter]

are we liking top male reader or bottom male reader also 😓✌🏼

[enhypen-btswriter]

I’m losing inspo , request pls 💔

[enhypen-btswriter]

ABSOLUTE TEA

no lines left ( lee jeno )

jeno and you end up way more close than either of you ever planned.

❛ content 1.3k words, 18+, explicit sexual content, top! male reader, handjob (jeno receiving), jeno is a whining mess, gentle praise, both are down bad.

you lost count of how many times jeno had stayed over.

at this point, it wasn’t just a casual hangout — it was just your ritual. friday night. takeout. dumb youtube videos. maybe a rewatch of some movie you both knew by heart. jeno always took the left side of the bed. he always stole your hoodie. always pressed just a little too close when he didn’t have to.

but tonight just felt… different.

it wasn’t that the lights were dimmer, or that the rain tapping on the window made the world feel smaller — although it did. it wasn’t even the fact that jeno was wearing just a tank top and boxers, legs sprawled across your lap while the tv droned in the background.

it was the way he looked at you.

like he’d already decided something and was just waiting for you to catch up.

“you ever think,” jeno started, voice low, casual on the surface but too careful underneath. “that we’re… too close?”

you tilted your head, heart thudding just a little. “too close?”

“yeah,” his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “like… we’re not dating, but it kinda feels like we are sometimes.”

you stared at him for a beat. his eyes were focused on his own hand — the way it bunched the fabric between your ribs — but you saw his throat bob as he swallowed.

“been thinking about it a lot?” you asked, voice soft.

jeno didn’t answer right away. he just leaned his head back against the wall, biting his bottom lip. then, without looking at you :

“yeah.”

the air shifted — warm and electric and charged. his body heat soaked into you, into your skin, into your brain. he smelled like clean soap and your laundry detergent, and something else distinctly him — earthy, masculine, something that had your mouth dry.

“you know i’d do anything for you, right?” you said quietly.

jeno looked over then, eyes wide and open, and fuck, he looked so pretty like that — all soft lips and flushed cheeks, skin lit golden by the bedside lamp.

“yeah,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “i know.”

your hand slid over his thigh, slow and steady. you felt the way his breath caught, how his body subtly leaned into your touch like he was already halfway gone.

“then let me do something for you now,” you murmured.

his lashes fluttered. “y/n…”

the sound of your name from his mouth — soft, aching — did something dangerous to you. your hand crept higher, fingers tracing the inside of his thigh, brushing the edge of his boxers. he spread his legs more willingly than you expected, muscles tense beneath your touch.

“you can stop me any time,” you offered, giving him an out he wouldn’t take.

“i don’t want to stop you,” jeno said, so fast it almost stumbled out. “fuck. i’ve wanted this— i’ve wanted you for so long.”

you swore your heart actually skipped.

he was panting already, chest rising and falling under the tank top that clung to him. his hands gripped the blanket underneath you both, knuckles pale, like he was already bracing himself.

you slid your hand under the waistband of his boxers.

the sound he made — something soft, broken, and so needy — punched straight through you.

“shit,” he whispered, head tipping back. “oh my god…”

he was already hard for you, twitching in your palm, skin hot to the touch. you stroked him slowly at first, just enough to make him gasp, your thumb brushing over the slit where he was already leaking.

“you’re so sensitive,” you breathed, fascinated. “you like being touched like this?”

“i—i love it,” jeno whined, and it was so much, the way he arched slightly off the bed, the way his legs spread wider like he wanted to give you more access. “fuck, your hand—feels so good.”

you tightened your grip just a little and picked up the pace, stroking him smooth and steady. the way his body responded — hips rolling up into your fist, lips parting, fingers twitching — had your own cock throbbing, though you didn’t even care about getting off right now.

you just wanted to watch him fall apart.

“please,” he gasped, eyes screwed shut. “don’t stop—please don’t stop.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” you murmured. “just relax, baby. let me take care of you.”

that did something to him. his whole body shivered at the nickname. one of his hands left the blanket, reaching blindly until it found your forearm, clutching it tight like he needed something to hold onto.

the room was thick with heat and breathing — his especially. short, desperate, like he couldn’t get enough air. his thighs were trembling under your hand. you leaned in close, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, and he keened.

“y/n—fuck—i can’t—”

“you can,” you whispered against his skin. “i’ve got you.”

your hand worked faster now, your thumb teasing the sensitive head, your palm catching every slick sound as he leaked over your fingers. the way his cock jumped in your fist every time you whispered to him — or moaned quietly just to tease — made it clear how fucking desperate he really was.

“i—i think i’m gonna—fuck—” his voice cracked, body tensing hard under you.

you leaned in, gently kissed his jaw, stroked him hard through it.

“come for me, baby,” you said, voice dark, warm against his cheek. “let go.”

and he did.

he came with a sob, burying his face in your neck, his whole body jerking as thick ropes spilled hot over your hand. you didn’t stop until he was done shaking, done whimpering, hips twitching from oversensitivity as you slowed your strokes.

when you finally pulled your hand away, he slumped back against the pillows, dazed, eyes half-lidded and shining.

you reached for a tissue, cleaned him gently, quietly, and then tossed it aside before crawling up next to him again, pressing your body alongside his. his fingers immediately sought yours out.

there was no hesitation. he laced them.

he was still panting softly, hair messy, lips red. he looked ruined in the best way possible — and completely yours.

“so,” he said after a long moment, voice raspy and fucked-out. “does this mean you’ll finally stop pretending you don’t like me?”

you let out a soft laugh, thumb stroking across his knuckles.

“i was down bad the second you started stealing my hoodies,” you admitted. “you think i let just anyone wear my clothes?”

“thought you were just being a nice best friend,” he murmured, eyes soft.

you looked at him and felt something settle in your chest. something so real.

“nah,” you said. “i’ve been gone for you. and i think you knew it.”

he grinned sleepily and tugged you closer.

“i knew,” he whispered. “i was just waiting for you to catch up.”

you kissed him then — slow and deep — and this time, it wasn’t just need. it was everything else that had been sitting between you for years. all that non-said longing, all those looks that lasted a little too long. the brushes of skin that lingered. the shared beds.

the truth was, there’d never really been a line between the two of you.

and now, there was nothing left to cross.

[enhypen-btswriter]

Jungwon – Hurting in Silence, Until He Can’t Take It

Jungwon notices the shift instantly—your tone is short, your eyes don’t linger like they used to, and your replies are scarce.

You brush past him in the hallway. Not a word.

At first, he gives you space, hoping it’s just stress.

But by the second day, he’s sitting on the couch staring at the door, waiting for you to come talk.

He replays every conversation in his head.

Did he say something wrong? Did he forget something?

His leadership instincts tell him to be calm, but the boyfriend in him is falling apart inside.

Finally, he finds you in the kitchen and blurts,

“I don’t care if you’re mad. I just… need to hear you say something.”

When you still don’t respond, his voice breaks.

“Please don’t shut me out. I want to fix it, but I can’t if you keep walking away.”

He doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t beg. But you can see the way his hands tremble when he gently reaches for yours.

“I’m here. No matter what it is, I’m not leaving.”

⸻

Heeseung – Plays It Cool, But Breaks Down Behind Closed Doors

You stop replying to Heeseung’s texts. You don’t laugh at his jokes. You won’t even meet his eyes.

He pretends to brush it off.

“Okay, fine. Be like that,” he mutters under his breath.

But when he’s alone, his mask cracks.

He rereads your last text, wondering what he missed.

He stares at your contact photo with a hollow ache in his chest.

You were his safe place. Now it feels like he’s lost in a house without light.

He finally catches you by the staircase, blocking your way.

“Tell me what I did. Yell at me. Curse me out. Just… don’t give me silence. That’s the only thing I can’t handle.”

You glance away, tears stinging, but he gently cups your jaw and says softly,

“I miss you. Even though you’re standing right here, I miss you. That’s how bad this hurts.”

Heeseung’s love is deep—and so is his pain when you go quiet.

⸻

Jay – Pride Collides With Heartbreak

Jay notices the cold shoulder right away.

He tries to rationalize it.

“Maybe he’s busy. Maybe I’m overthinking it.”

But when your silence continues for days, it gnaws at him.

Still, his pride won’t let him beg.

So he matches your silence—at first.

But it’s eating him alive.

He finds himself lingering outside your door, pacing the floor, unable to sleep.

He finally corners you one night, voice tight with frustration and pain.

“I don’t care if you’re mad. I don’t care if you hate me. But this? Ignoring me? It’s worse than any fight.”

He looks you in the eye, his usual calm cracking.

“I’m not perfect. But I don’t deserve to be frozen out like I mean nothing.”

He steps back, eyes shimmering.

“I miss you so bad it physically hurts.”

And for Jay—who usually hides behind strength—this is his breakdown.

⸻

Jake – Desperate Puppy Energy, But Gentle

Jake doesn’t understand.

You used to call him “baby” every hour.

Now… nothing. Just silence. Cold shoulders.

He follows you around the dorm like a ghost.

Soft “hey…”

Gentle “you okay?”

You never reply.

It crushes him.

He cries when he’s alone in the bathroom, wiping his eyes like no one should know.

Finally, one night, he climbs into your bed while you’re lying there pretending to sleep.

He wraps his arms around you slowly.

“I don’t know what I did. But I’ll do anything to fix it.”

He nuzzles his face into the back of your neck, voice small.

“I miss your voice. I miss you.”

And in that moment, you realize how deeply he feels everything—especially your silence.

⸻

Sunghoon – Pretends Not to Care, But It’s Eating Him Alive

Sunghoon keeps his expression cool.

You ignore him in the car?

He turns the music louder.

You walk past him without a word?

He shrugs and sips his coffee.

But under the surface?

He’s dying.

He checks his phone every five minutes.

Watches your stories, hoping you post something—anything.

He stares at old photos of you two and hates himself for whatever he did wrong.

He finally catches you sitting alone and just says,

“Am I really that easy to forget?”

You look up, shocked.

“I act cold, but I care. I care so much it makes me want to scream.”

His voice cracks. “Just say something. Yell at me. I can take it. But not this. Not silence.”

And when you soften, when you finally speak—he exhales like he’s been underwater for days.

⸻

Sunoo – Cries. Then Gets Angry. Then Cries Again

The moment you start ignoring him, Sunoo takes it personally.

He sends you long paragraphs.

Leaves notes. Buys you snacks.

No answer. No reaction.

He cries to Jungwon, sobbing,

“Did he stop loving me? Why is he treating me like this?”

Then he gets angry.

“If he can ignore me, I’ll ignore him right back!”

But he can’t. He checks your status constantly.

Finally, he shows up at your place with teary eyes and a bag full of your favorite things.

“I know I can be dramatic. I know I talk a lot. But your silence hurts more than anything you could ever say to me.”

He sniffles, trying to hold it in.

“Just tell me what I did. I’ll fix it. I swear.”

And when you finally speak, he collapses into your arms, clinging to you like home.

⸻

Ni-ki – Acts Tough, Breaks When You’re Not Looking

Ni-ki raises an eyebrow when you ignore him.

“Oh? You’re ignoring me now?”

He scoffs. “Fine. Whatever.”

But behind the scenes? He’s cracking.

He stays up watching your old messages.

Replays your voice notes just to hear you speak.

Wears your hoodie like a shield.

He doesn’t know how to say he’s hurt, so he acts annoyed.

But one day, you walk past him without a glance and he snaps.

He grabs your wrist gently, voice trembling.

“Don’t treat me like I’m invisible. I may act cold, but you’re the only person who makes me feel warm.”

He looks down, ashamed of how shaky his hands are.

“I miss you. And I hate pretending I don’t.”

And just like that, the youngest shows just how much he aches when you go quiet.

[enhypen-btswriter]

Part 2: Not Finished

___________

The room was quiet—except for the sound of Heeseung’s breathing. Heavy. Hitched. Still coming down.

You stayed over him for a moment, skin pressed to his back, your hand wrapped loosely around his wrist where you’d pinned him earlier. Heeseung’s body was trembling beneath you, but not from weakness—from need.

He turned his head slightly, cheek still pressed to the sheets, lips red and swollen. His voice was hoarse when he whispered, “You… you weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t done.”

You leaned in close, breath warm against his ear.

“Not even close.”

A shiver ran down his spine.

You sat back and flipped him over effortlessly, enjoying the way his breath caught as you hovered above him again. His thighs were still shaking, but his eyes—God, his eyes—were blown wide with desire.

“I can’t even think straight,” he said, barely a whisper.

“Good,” you replied, dragging your fingers up his bare chest, slow and possessive. “Then stop thinking.”

You dipped your head and kissed him—deep, rough, claiming. Heeseung whimpered into your mouth, fingers curling around your bicep like he was grounding himself.

You moved down his body slowly, hands gripping his waist, lips grazing his flushed skin like a warning. His breath stuttered again as you teased him—slow enough to torture, firm enough to leave no doubt about what was coming next.

Heeseung’s back arched.

You growled low against his skin. “Still want more?”

“Yes,” he gasped. “Please—yes.”

You smirked, grabbing his thighs and pulling him closer with force.

“Then take it.”

This time, there was no pause. Just pure rhythm—your bodies moving together again in frantic, greedy waves. The sound of skin on skin, desperate moans, the mattress shifting beneath you. His voice—cracked and pleading—broke through the air in pieces.

Heeseung clung to you like he was unraveling, like your touch was both pain and salvation.

When he hit his peak again, body tightening in your arms, you kissed him hard—owning every sound he made. And when you followed, growling his name through clenched teeth, you didn’t let him go.

Not even after he collapsed beneath you, spent and glowing.

You stayed tangled—bodies still pressed close, sweat-damp skin sticking slightly. Your hand threaded through his hair, and he made a soft noise—something between a sigh and a laugh.

“I think you broke me.”

You grinned against his neck. “I’ll put you back together.”

And you meant it.

[enhypen-btswriter]

Late Night | His Dorm | Your Hands on Him

____________

The door clicked shut behind you.

Heeseung stood there, breath already shallow, eyes locked on you like he didn’t know whether to bolt or lean in closer. His cheeks were flushed, lips parted, chest rising and falling with anticipation he could no longer hide.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered. But he didn’t move.

You took a slow step forward, gaze dragging over his lean frame—the oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, his fingers nervously gripping the hem.

“But you want me here,” you said, voice low.

His breath caught. “Yeah.”

You didn’t wait.

In two strides, you had him backed against the door, hands braced on either side of his head. He looked up at you like he was about to fall apart, and you smiled—low and dark and full of promise.

“Tell me to stop,” you murmured, lips barely grazing his ear. “And I will.”

Heeseung shivered. “Don’t you dare.”

That was all you needed.

Your mouth was on his in an instant, rough and hungry. He gasped, and you swallowed the sound, hands gripping his hips and dragging him closer until there wasn’t a breath of space left. His fingers scrambled to hold onto you, clinging to your shoulders as you kissed him like you’d been starving for him.

He moaned into your mouth, hips rocking forward instinctively—and you groaned, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, biting at his bottom lip until he whimpered.

“Get on the bed,” you said, voice firm.

He hesitated for half a second—then obeyed, eyes wide and dark with want.

You followed slowly, pulling off your jacket, watching the way he watched you. Like he didn’t know whether to melt or beg.

When you climbed over him, you pinned his wrists to the mattress, leaning down just enough to let your lips graze his jaw.

“You like giving up control to me, huh?”

Heeseung bit his lip and nodded, breathless. “Yeah…”

You smirked. “Then be good for me.”

What followed was heat—slow and overwhelming. You took your time unwrapping him, stripping away every layer with your hands and your mouth, watching his reactions like you were studying every part of him.

He arched for you. Whispered your name like it meant something holy. Clung to your back as you moved against him, under him, inside him.

Heeseung gave you everything—moans, cries, trust. And you gave it all back in the way you touched him. In how you took control. In how you worshipped him like he was something breakable—but didn’t break.

When he came undone beneath you, legs trembling, fingers tangled in your hair, your name gasped like prayer—it wasn’t just release.

It was surrender.

You pulled him close after, both of you breathless and warm. His head rested against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around you.

“You okay?” you asked, quieter now.

Heeseung nodded, voice muffled. “Better than okay.”

And he didn’t let go for a long time.

[enhypen-btswriter]

Your apartment, late night turning to early morning

⸻

Your fingers slowed as Sunghoon’s breathing evened out against your chest. The quiet rhythm was hypnotic—the perfect lullaby after a day full of everything.

His warmth seeped into you, steady and soothing, the weight of his body a comforting anchor.

You shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him, your cheek resting gently against the crown of his head.

Outside, the rain softened, tapping a gentle rhythm on the windowpane.

Your eyes fluttered closed, heart full but calm.

Sunghoon’s hand found yours, fingers curling lightly around yours like he didn’t want to let go.

You gave a small squeeze in return.

In that moment, the world slipped away—the noise, the worries, the rush—and all that was left was this peaceful, perfect stillness.

You fell asleep like that—together, safe, and exactly where you were meant to be.