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neodreamgirl · 1 month ago

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DAMNNNN THIS IS WHAT I LIKE

ExBoyfriend!Haechan x Reader (smut)

WC: 2.8k, JUST SMUT, Dom haechan (although he seems pathetic at first lol), unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, spanking, mentions of spitting and oral gagging, degradation

Haechan shows up at your door begging for sex after you broke up, but the dynamic changes the second he realizes you've been missing him too.

They were the exes everyone envied.

No drama. No shouting matches or deleted photos. When Haechan and Y/N broke up, it was with soft words and sad smiles, both of them knowing it wasn’t the right time, even if the feelings were still there. They promised to be civil, mature. Promised not to make things weird for their friend group. And somehow, they meant it.

They said hey when they saw each other at parties. Not cold or awkward—just casual. Familiar. Like two people who knew each other intimately and had decided not to let that ruin everything else.

He’d bring a drink to her at a group hangout before walking off to joke with his friends. She’d compliment his new haircut without hesitation, even if it made her stomach tighten to see him smile like that. There was no tension, no animosity.

But sometimes—when the others weren’t looking—he’d glance at her just a little too long. She’d pretend not to notice. Pretend she didn’t still remember how his hands felt dragging down her spine or how his voice sounded when he was desperate and close.

They didn’t text. Didn’t call. Didn’t touch.

So when the knock came at 11PM, Y/N wasn’t expecting him.

She opened the door in an oversized t-shirt and fuzzy socks, half a face mask still on, and froze.

Haechan stood on her porch like he’d run here—hair swooped up to show off his forehead just how she used to like it, a tight black t-shirt hugging his lean torso, grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips, slung loose and casual like he didn’t know exactly what that did to her. He looked flustered. But also… determined.

“Haechan?”

He didn’t speak. Just looked at her like he couldn’t believe she was real. Then—

He dropped to his knees.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “What—what are you doing?”

“I need you.”

His voice was raw, low, almost broken. His hands pressed together like he was praying. Or begging.

“I’m serious. I—I can’t stop thinking about you. I haven’t—” He swallowed. “I haven’t had sex since you. I can’t. Nothing feels right. I can’t even jerk off without thinking about you—your body, your moans, the way you clenched around me when you came.”

Her mouth fell open, stunned. Heat rushed to her face—and lower. “Haechan—”

“Please,” he whispered, eyes lifting to meet hers. “Just once. I’ll leave right after. Just let me have you again.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” He stood, slow and steady, and stepped into her space. “You think I’d humiliate myself like this for a joke?”

He was so close now she could smell him—fresh and clean with a trace of cologne she still remembered. Her body betrayed her instantly, skin prickling, thighs pressing together.

“We said we’d be friends,” she whispered.

“I don’t want to be your friend tonight,” he said, voice soft, but firm. “I want to make you come until you forget why we ever stopped.”

She gasped, stepping back on instinct, but he followed her inside, closing the door with a quiet click. His eyes never left hers, his gaze heavy and full of want. He moved toward her with slow, calculated confidence, licking his lips just before speaking.

“I knew you still wanted me,” he murmured.

Her breath hitched.

He smiled.

“I see the way you look at me,” he said, closing the distance again. “You think I don’t notice? The way your eyes drop to my mouth, or how your thighs press together when I stretch in front of you?”

She backed up until her legs hit the couch.

“Haechan—”

“You’ve been thinking about it too,” he said, voice low, smug. “How I used to touch you. How I’d make you come so hard you’d cry.”

His fingers brushed her bare thigh—barely there, featherlight. Then again, higher.

She gasped.

He smiled wider. “Knew it.”

Her knees nearly buckled.

“Let’s talk,” she said, but it came out breathless.

“Sure,” he said, leading her down to the couch like he had all the time in the world. “Let’s talk.”

But the moment they sat, his fingers found her again—stroking the inside of her thigh slowly, gently, eyes locked on hers like a dare.

“God, you’re already warm,” he whispered. “You missed this. Missed me.”

She bit her lip, hips shifting without thinking, breath catching when his touch skimmed higher—until the tips of his fingers brushed right over her panties.

And she gasped.

That’s when it hit him.

His whole expression changed—soft desperation bleeding into something cocky and sharp.

“I knew it,” he said, voice low and full of filthy satisfaction. “I fucking knew you wanted me too." Haechan whispered, fingers still pressing over her panties, slowly rubbing small, teasing circles.

“You’re soaked through, baby. What were you doing before I got here? Thinking about me?”

She whimpered, hips lifting instinctively, chasing his touch.

He chuckled darkly, brushing his nose along her jaw as he spoke. “You could’ve had anyone. I know you’ve been out, getting hit on, looking pretty like this—but you’re still here. Still wet for me.”

His hand slipped beneath the waistband, and she gasped when his fingers slid through the slick heat between her folds.

“Shit,” he breathed, voice cracking with how wet she was. “I barely touched you.”

“Haechan,” she moaned, clinging to his shirt.

He kissed her—deep and messy, tongue sliding into her mouth like he already owned her. His fingers moved with ease, stroking and circling her clit just right, two knuckles deep before she even had time to catch her breath.

“No one gets you like I do,” he said against her lips, voice low, cocky, filthy. “No one ever fucking will.”

He pulled back to look at her—eyes dark and blown wide with lust, lips swollen from kissing her too hard.

“You know I could’ve fucked around, right?” he said, fingers curling inside her in a slow, devastating rhythm. “Girls were begging for it. But I couldn’t. Because none of them sound like you. None of them look at me like you do when I’m inside you.”

Her eyes rolled back as he hit just the right spot, her walls fluttering around him.

“That’s right,” he whispered, dragging his lips down her neck. “You need me.”

She was nodding before she realized it, her hips grinding down into his hand like her life depended on it.

“I’d fuck you anywhere right now,” he growled. “On this couch. On the floor. Up against your damn door. Just say it—say you want me again.”

“Please,” she gasped, arching her back, thighs trembling. “Please—fuck me, Haechan—”

He groaned like the sound of it hurt. “God, I missed the way you beg.”

He pulled his hand from between her legs, shoving his sweatpants down just enough to free himself—and her breath caught.

He was hard, thick, flushed and already leaking, heavy in his palm. The memory of him inside her crashed over her like a wave—stretching, filling, ruining.

He caught her staring and smirked. “You remember how full you get, don’t you?”

She whimpered.

“Could’ve had anyone,” he said again, cocky, dragging the tip of him through her soaked folds, lining himself up. “But we always crawl back, don’t we? You’re mine, baby. You know that.”

And then he sank into her—slow and thick and deep, inch by inch.

She choked on a moan, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he hissed, head dropping to her neck. “Still the tightest fucking pussy I’ve ever had. Goddamn.”

He didn’t move at first, just stayed there, buried deep, letting her pulse around him while he kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw, her throat.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget we ever broke up,” he murmured. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come on this dick begging me to stay.”

She couldn’t answer—only moan, legs wrapping around him to pull him closer.

“Look at you,” he groaned as he started to move, slow and deep, dragging his hips back and slamming in again. “So fucked out already and I’ve barely started. You’re so mine.”

And she was.

Every roll of his hips knocked her higher. Every filthy word he whispered made her tighter, wetter, more addicted.

She couldn't stop moaning his name—like a prayer, like a curse, like she’d die if he stopped.

They were a mess—sweat and slick skin, breathless gasps and gasping kisses. And it felt so right.

“I love how you fuckin’ take it,” he growled, voice wrecked. “Like you were made for me.”

“I was,” she cried, clawing at his back. “I am—I’m yours, Haechan—don’t stop—”

That snapped something in him.

“Say it again,” he demanded, fucking into her harder now. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she gasped. “Only yours—always.”

He moaned like he was coming undone just hearing it.

“You were made for me,” he breathed. “Tight little pussy, perfect moans, all of you. I’m never letting anyone else have you again.”

They both reached their climax together, faster than usual after not having each other for months.

Haechan’s thrusts slowed, hips grinding deep once more before he pulled out, chest heaving. His skin was flushed, tanned and glistening with sweat, a few strands of hair sticking to his forehead now out of place, lips parted and slick from kissing her breathless.

He sat back on the couch like he owned it—sprawled out, sweatpants tugged low, thighs wide, cock resting thick and soaked against his abs. His hand pushed his hair back, lazy and smug.

And fuck, he looked so good like this—ruined and cocky. Like he knew damn well he’d blown her mind.

Y/N sank to her knees before she even realized she was doing it, eyes locked on him the entire time. Her thighs were trembling, breath ragged, body still tingling from the stretch of him inside her.

Haechan raised a brow, smirking.

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” he murmured, watching her crawl between his legs. “God, look at you—on your knees again, just like old times.”

She didn’t speak. Just wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, warm and still twitching from how hard he was. Her thumb swiped through the mess of their combined slick at the tip, watching him shiver.

“Fucking filthy,” he hissed, head dropping back against the couch for a moment. “You love this shit. Love how nasty we are.”

She did. She loved how he tasted, how he smelled, how he groaned and tangled his hand in her hair the second her tongue flattened against the head and dragged slow, deliberate circles around it.

He sucked in a breath, hand fisting tighter.

“Shit, baby—slow like that? Been thinking about this for months.”

She moaned around him, taking more, letting her lips stretch wide as she sank down his length. Her spit coated him quickly, sticky and wet, dripping down her chin as she started bobbing her head, slow and sloppy, savoring every second.

“God damn, you’re good at this,” he groaned. “No one’s ever made me feel like this. No one even comes close.”

He lifted his hips slightly to meet her mouth, and she gagged just a little, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. He loved that.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “So fucking desperate to taste me again. Who else would let me fuck their throat like this and still look so pretty?”

She pulled off for a second, spit connecting her lips to his cock. “No one,” she whispered, breathless, eyes dark. “Only me.”

“Damn right.”

He let her take him again, deeper this time, his thighs tense and trembling as she sucked him down, spit and slick everywhere. Her hand stroked what her mouth couldn’t reach, twisting, squeezing just the way he liked.

“We’re sick,” he groaned, head rolling back again. “No one can satisfy us like this. Doesn’t matter who we try to move on with—we always come back.”

She moaned around him in agreement.

And then he gasped—hips jerking—his hand tightening in her hair as he came down her throat, moaning her name like a prayer. She swallowed every drop, staying on him, mouth warm and full until he twitched and hissed from overstimulation.

“Fuck,” he breathed, looking down at her. “That was—god, baby.”

She slowly pulled off with a pop, wiping her mouth, eyes glassy and lips swollen.

Then she crawled right up into his lap, straddling his hips with no hesitation.

His hands were instantly everywhere—gripping her ass, her thighs, her waist—dragging her down to press against him, already getting hard again from the way she looked at him.

“Still needy?” he teased, voice hoarse.

She didn’t answer. Just kissed him.

Filthy. Messy. Tongue and teeth and spit. She moaned into his mouth, grinding against him like she needed him now, hands tangled in his messy hair.

He grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against him as they kissed again and again, gasping for breath between each one only to dive right back in like they were starving.

“Fuck,” he groaned, lips dragging down to her jaw. “We’re so fucked up.”

“We’re perfect,” she whispered, biting his lower lip. “I need you.”

“Always,” he promised, kissing her again. “I’m yours.”

....

Y/N didn’t waste a second.

Her hands tangled in his messy hair as she rocked against him, grinding over his cock until he was hard again beneath her, thick and ready. Haechan leaned back just a little on the couch, one arm thrown lazily over the backrest, the other gripping her ass, helping her move against him. He looked smug—completely in control—even as he groaned at the way she moved.

“I knew it,” he murmured, lips brushing her ear. “You missed this. Missed me.”

He lined himself up again, not even needing a hand with how soaked she still was, and she sank down slow—moaning out loud as he filled her again, deep and hot and perfect.

The stretch burned, the way it always had—that delicious, overwhelming pressure that made her feel like she was being split open, claimed all over again.

She was panting already, fingernails digging into his arms as she adjusted to him, her walls fluttering around him uncontrollably.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, watching her face, lips parted and glossy, lashes fluttering. “Yeah, you really missed this dick, huh?”

She glared at him, even as she started riding him—hips rising and dropping slowly, her moans slipping between them like confessions.

He leaned in and kissed her, filthy and possessive, his hands roaming her back, her thighs, her ass. He licked into her mouth between gasps, then kissed down her throat, sucking a mark at her collarbone just because he could.

But when her rhythm faltered—just slightly, overwhelmed by the drag and burn of his cock—his palm came down on her ass with a sharp smack.

She gasped, eyes wide.

He grinned.

“No slowing down,” he said, voice thick and teasing. “You started this. Ride me like you mean it.”

She scowled, cheeks flushed—but picked up the pace.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “God, I love this view. Tits bouncing, face all wrecked. No one else gets to see you like this.”

His thumb dragged across her nipple, teasing and circling while his other hand gripped her waist tight, guiding her up and down on his cock until the couch creaked beneath them.

Her moans got louder, more desperate. She leaned in to kiss him again, messy and hungry, but when she slowed again, overwhelmed by the intensity—

Smack.

Another spank, just enough sting to make her whimper.

“Can’t help it, can you?” he grinned, lips brushing hers. “Too cockdrunk already?”

She bit his lip in retaliation, making him groan.

“Fuck—there’s that attitude,” he laughed breathlessly. “Still my brat. My needy, soaking wet little brat who loves getting punished.”

He leaned forward and licked a stripe up her neck, making her shiver.

“I can feel you clenching every time I spank you,” he whispered against her skin. “You like it.”

Her hands were everywhere now—roaming up his arms, digging into his biceps, smoothing across his chest and abs, memorizing the way his muscles flexed under her touch. She cupped his face too, dragging her thumb over his bottom lip as he sucked it slowly into his mouth, eyes dark with hunger.

“You’re so fucking hot,” she whispered, grinding down harder now, chasing her release. “You’re mine.”

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, “you own me.”

She rode him faster now, sloppier, his cock hitting that perfect spot every single time, her moans breaking apart into ragged gasps as the pleasure coiled hot and tight in her belly.

“That’s it,” he panted, watching her lose it. “Come on this dick again. Let me feel you fall apart.”

And with one more deep stroke and a filthy kiss, she did—crying out his name, thighs trembling, body clenching so tight around him that he lost it too, groaning loudly as he spilled deep inside her.

They collapsed into each other, shaking, breathless, completely ruined.

And yet—Haechan was still grinning against her mouth, whispering against her lips:

“Still think we can stay friends after this?”

------------

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Sneak peak of part 2:

“You think I could ever forget a girl like that?” he laughed breathlessly. “You think I could move on when I’ve had my cock down your throat, when I’ve seen the way you beg to be choked, the way you smile when I spit in your mouth?”

Her moan turned into a cry, hands gripping his hair, his neck, anything she could hold as he slammed into her again.

“I know you, baby,” he whispered, voice cracking from how wrecked he was. “You’ve got everyone else fooled. Sweet little Y/N. But no one knows what a filthy freak you are for me.”

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