#Letting Go | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elryuse · 2 days ago

Text

About You

Han So Hee X Male Reader

Tags : Lovely Girlfriend, Kissing, Intense Sex, Lots of Romance, Vanilla, Older Girlfriend So Hee, Age Gap, Past Traumas, A Lesson of Moving on, Empowering. Words : 5,752 Words

You remember the first time you saw her.

The senior hallway always felt like foreign territory—older students with sharper eyes, louder laughs, and heavier footsteps. You didn't belong there, not really. But she did. Han So Hee. The girl who walked through that corridor like it was a runway she never asked for, but one the world insisted she deserved.

She had that kind of beauty that didn’t shout—it whispered. It wasn’t the way her hair curled slightly at the ends or the way her lips curved into half-smiles that people would kill for. It was her presence. The kind of presence that made time slow just enough for you to notice her brushing her sleeve, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing sideways when she thought no one was looking.

But you were always looking.

You’d never spoken to her then. She was a year above you—miles, really. And yet, there was something magnetic about her cold tone, the way she answered questions without flinching, the way she walked out of classrooms with headphones in, shoulders straight like nothing could touch her. Like the world couldn't reach her.

But underneath all that… you knew there was warmth. Something soft. You saw it once—when she helped a junior pick up their spilled books without saying a word. Or when she smiled at the school janitor every morning. Like she didn’t want the world to know she cared, but she did. Deeply.

You wanted to be part of that warmth. You wanted her to see you—not just as the junior with a messy tie and an awkward smile, but as someone real. Someone capable of loving her in all the ways she never let herself be loved.

So you did the only thing you could. You stayed close. Watching. Quietly admiring from the corners of crowded classrooms, shared hallways, school festivals she barely attended.

And then came winter.

Snow had started to fall earlier that day. Flakes like stars, dancing down in lazy spirals, softening the edges of the world. The sky was the color of secrets, pale and heavy, and the ground shimmered like it was holding something sacred.

You found her in the school lobby.

Classes were done. Most students had already rushed out, coats zipped up, boots squeaking against the tiled floor. But she stayed behind.

So Hee stood near the glass entrance, arms lifted gently, palms open, catching snow through the open doorway like she was waiting for a miracle. She looked otherworldly—like a painting trapped in the wrong era. Her hair was damp at the ends, darkening near her coat collar, and her skin glowed under the dull golden lobby lights.

You watched her, your heartbeat skipping. Something about her stillness—the peace she wore so casually—made your chest tighten. Like maybe, just maybe, the universe had placed this moment here just for you.

You stepped closer.

The snow was falling quietly now, barely a whisper against the world, and your voice almost faltered.

"Aren’t you cold, Noona?" you asked softly, the words barely leaving your lips.

She turned, slow and delicate, like she already knew you were there.

And then she smiled.

A real one.

The kind you’d never seen before, not directed at anyone else. Not gentle. Not forced. Just… warm.

"Not at all," she said, voice airy, almost amused.

Her eyes didn’t leave yours.

There it was again—that pull. That undeniable, invisible string between you and her.

You didn’t know what it meant. You didn’t know what she felt. But in that moment, under the snow, in the empty lobby, you knew this: You were falling for her.

And you were ready to let her know.

Even if it took a thousand more winters.

The snow didn’t stop for days after that moment in the lobby.

And neither did your thoughts of her.

You saw her the next day, sitting on the wooden bench just outside the music room, legs crossed, headphones in, head tilted slightly like she was somewhere else entirely. You wondered what she was listening to. You wanted to ask. But instead, you sat three seats away, pretending to read a book you weren’t even flipping through.

And then something unexpected happened.

She took off her headphones.

“You’re always around, huh?” Her voice was cool like iced tea in summer. But her eyes… they glimmered with something warmer. Something close to curiosity. Maybe even affection.

You froze. Then nodded, heart knocking against your ribs.

“Is that okay?” you managed to ask.

She looked at you for a moment. Not through you—at you. And that made all the difference.

“I don’t mind,” she said, slipping one side of her headphones off and extending it toward you.

You hesitated—then leaned in.

A song was playing. Soft. Instrumental. A little sad, like the kind of melody you’d hear in a dream you didn’t want to wake up from. She didn’t tell you the title. She didn’t need to.

For the next few minutes, the two of you just sat there—sharing a pair of headphones and the space between you. Not speaking. Just… existing. Side by side.

And it felt more intimate than anything you'd ever known.

It became a pattern.

She started showing up in the places you went to. Or maybe you had always followed her there. The library, the back garden behind the school where few students wandered, the abandoned art room with dust-covered canvases and paint that had long since dried.

You never asked her why she let you stay. She never asked why you kept coming.

Sometimes she spoke. Sometimes she didn’t. But you learned to read her silences. Her little habits.

The way she bit the inside of her cheek when deep in thought. The way her fingers lingered on windows, like she was trying to touch something just beyond the glass. The way she always looked up when it rained, like the sky had a secret only she could understand.

You didn’t know what to call the feelings building inside you.

Infatuation wasn’t strong enough. Crush felt too childish. Love felt dangerous—like a word that might scare her away.

But whatever it was, it bloomed every time she looked at you and smiled like she was letting you in on a secret no one else knew.

One evening, just before dusk, you found her outside, near the bike racks. The sky was melting into shades of lilac and ash, and a wind had picked up, chasing loose pages across the schoolyard.

She was leaning against the fence, arms folded, eyes closed.

“Were you waiting for me?” you joked, stepping closer, trying to hide the hopeful tremble in your voice.

So Hee opened her eyes slowly. “Maybe,” she replied. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d come.”

That night, you walked her home for the first time.

She lived further than you expected, tucked away in a quiet alley, past rows of lantern-lit shops and winding stone paths. The walk was quiet. Peaceful. You didn’t speak much. Just the sound of your footsteps, the hush of wind, and your heart pounding like a war drum.

Before she went in, she turned around and asked, “Do you think I’m cold?”

You blinked. “Cold?”

She nodded, gently brushing her hair behind her ear. “Everyone says I’m hard to read. Unapproachable. Cold.”

You wanted to tell her she was wrong. That her coldness was a myth—something built by people who never looked closely enough. That you saw the way her eyes softened when she talked about music, or how she always left behind an extra pack of milk on the teachers’ table when she thought no one noticed.

But instead, you said, “You’re warm in all the ways that matter.”

And for a second, she just looked at you. Like you said something she had been waiting a long time to hear.

“Thank you,” she whispered, almost too softly to catch.

Then she disappeared behind the gate.

But her scent lingered in the air—floral, faint, like fading rain. And your chest ached in the most beautiful way.

You knew, in that moment, you were falling completely.

And you didn’t want to stop.

The art room was colder than usual.

Maybe because it had rained earlier. Maybe because it had always felt cold—like time froze in this place and forgot how to start again. The shelves were still littered with dried-up paint tubes, broken brushes, and ceramic figures that never made it to the kiln.

But there was something sacred about that stillness.

That’s why you brought her there.

You weren’t sure why she said yes. You’d casually asked her if she wanted to skip study period and hang out somewhere quiet. You thought she’d scoff, or at least say she was busy.

But instead, she said, “Okay. Lead the way.”

And now she was here.

Sitting on top of the old wooden table by the windows, legs swinging softly, her hands behind her to prop herself up. She looked out at the courtyard beyond the glass, where rain still clung to every surface like a memory.

You were pretending to clean a dirty paintbrush. But really, you were watching her reflection on the window.

“I used to come here alone,” she said suddenly, her voice echoing a little. “Last year. When things got too loud in my head.”

You set the brush down, quieter than your heartbeat. “Why this room?”

“Because no one ever looks for you in a place like this,” she answered with a soft laugh. “It’s forgotten. Like me, sometimes.”

You moved closer. Not because you planned to. But because your body knew—she needs someone to step into her silence.

“You’re not forgotten, So Hee,” you said, her name falling out of your mouth like a secret. “Not by me.”

She looked at you.

Really looked at you.

The way someone does when they’re not sure if they’re about to be hurt or healed.

“You always say things like that,” she murmured. “Things no one else does.”

You swallowed. “Because I see you.”

She blinked. Slowly. Then smiled—like she wanted to cry but didn’t have the strength to.

The light from the window hit her just right. Her hair glowed at the edges. Her skin pale and soft, kissed by shadow. You took a slow step forward.

So Hee didn’t move away.

You were standing so close now.

You could feel the warmth off her skin, the faint scent of her shampoo—lavender and rain. Her lips parted just barely, like she was about to speak. But no words came.

Your hand hovered near hers on the table.

She turned to face you completely now, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Y/n…” she said quietly.

You didn’t respond.

You didn’t need to.

Because you were both holding your breath.

The space between you grew smaller. The world outside disappeared. All that existed was her half-open lips, your trembling fingertips, and the question that hung between you like fog in the winter:

Are we going to cross this line?

But then—

A knock.

Someone at the door.

You both jumped.

Her hand slipped away.

The spell broke.

She hopped down from the table in one graceful motion, brushing invisible dust off her skirt.

“That was close,” she said with a half-smile, eyes looking anywhere but yours.

You forced a laugh. “Yeah.”

But your chest ached. Not from disappointment.

From almost.

You walked her home again that night, neither of you talking about what happened.

But everything had changed.

Every time her shoulder brushed yours, you felt her pause just a little longer. Every time she looked at you, there was something new in her eyes—like she was replaying that moment in the art room, over and over.

You were falling.

And you could tell—so was she.

But something was holding her back.

A shadow you couldn’t name.

Not yet.

The first snow of December fell like a whisper.

It painted the streets in silence, covering rooftops, railings, and your breath in something almost magical. You found yourself walking beside her again—shoulder to shoulder, two shadows under the pale street lamps, your footprints trailing behind like a secret path only the two of you knew.

You hadn’t planned to meet her tonight. But when you looked out the classroom window and saw the snow falling for the first time, your heart thought of her before your mind did.

And as if fate was listening, she texted:

"Meet me. Usual spot."

She was sitting on the swings behind the old playground.

Headphones on. Snow in her hair.

You approached quietly, not wanting to startle her.

She didn’t turn around, but her voice came out like breath:

“Do you believe in déjà vu?”

You blinked. “Sometimes.”

She looked over her shoulder, lips pale from the cold. “Because this moment feels like something I’ve lived before. But maybe… I wanted to rewrite it.”

You sat beside her, the chains creaking softly as you swayed.

So Hee took off her headphones and placed them in her coat pocket. Her fingers were red from the cold, but she didn’t seem to mind. She kept watching the snow.

“You ever trust someone too much?” she asked. “So much that when they leave… it feels like they took something out of you?”

You didn’t answer right away.

Because you knew this wasn’t just a question.

It was a memory, dressed in metaphor.

She continued, her tone quieter now. “I was fifteen. There was this boy—older. Confident. The kind everyone adored. He made me feel like I was seen… like I wasn’t invisible.”

Her voice faltered for a second, then steadied again.

“I told him things I never told anyone. About my parents’ divorce. About the nights I stayed up listening to my mom cry in the kitchen. About how sometimes I felt like a ghost in my own house. He said he understood.”

You looked at her, your chest tightening with every word.

“And then one day,” she whispered, “he just disappeared. Blocked my number. Transferred schools. I found out later it was all a game. A dare. I was the joke.”

A breath escaped her lips like frost. “I never told anyone.”

You felt something break inside you.

Not because you were angry for her.

But because in that moment, you wanted so badly to go back in time—to shield her from that pain. To take fifteen-year-old So Hee by the hand and say you’re not invisible.

But now, you just sat there—trying to hold her silence the way she needed it to be held.

So Hee turned to you.

And for the first time, her eyes weren’t guarded.

They were wounded.

“I don’t push people away because I enjoy it, Y/n.”

You swallowed. “I know.”

“It’s just… when someone looks at me the way you do—like I matter—I get scared.”

Your voice trembled. “Why?”

“Because I might start believing it again.”

The wind whispered through the trees, scattering snow like confetti.

And you did the only thing you could.

You reached out.

Not boldly. Not dramatically.

Just… gently.

Your hand found hers, resting cold in her lap.

And this time—she didn’t pull away.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours.

Two people, barely speaking. Letting the silence cradle you. Letting the weight of old wounds settle into the snow beneath your feet.

Then, before she stood up to leave, she said something so soft, you almost missed it:

“Don’t fall for me, Y/n.”

You looked at her. “Too late.”

She didn’t smile.

But her fingers tightened around yours.

And somehow, that said more than anything else could.

“Do you ever think about Future ?” Her voice was soft, almost fragile, as if the words might shatter if they lingered too long in the air.

I paused, the weight of her question pressing against my chest. “All the time,” I admitted, my voice just above a whisper. “Every damn day.”

So Hee turned to face You, her dark eyes searching mine for something I wasn’t sure I could give. The dim glow of the streetlamp painted her features in a soft, golden hue, making her look almost ethereal. We were sitting on the edge of the old playground, the same spot where I’d first truly seen her. The snow had started to fall again, tiny flakes catching in her hair like stars.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t know if I can be what you need.”

I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her skin was cold, but there was a warmth in her eyes that didn’t match her words. “You already are,” You told her. “You’ve always been.”

She looked away, her lips pressing into a thin line. “You don’t know that. You don’t know everything.”

“Then tell me,” You urged, my hand sliding down to rest against hers. “You don’t have to carry it all alone.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she stared out at the snow-covered playground, her expression unreadable. You knew this wasn’t just about You and Her. It was about the walls she’d built around herself, the scars she’d hidden so well that even You sometimes forgot they were there.

“When I was fifteen,” she began, her voice barely audible, “there was this boy. He wasn’t just any boy. He was… everything. Confident, charming, the kind of person everyone wanted to be around. And for some reason, he chose me.”

You felt Your chest tighten, but You didn’t interrupt. This was her story, her pain, and You needed to let her tell it.

“He made me feel seen. Like I wasn’t just the quiet girl in the corner. He listened to me, really listened, and I thought… I thought he cared.” Her voice cracked, and she took a deep breath before continuing. “But it was all a lie. It was just a game to him. A dare. And when he was done, he left. Blocked me. Transferred schools. I was the joke.”

The words hung heavy between us, the weight of her vulnerability almost too much to bear. You tightened Your grip on her hand, hoping she could feel the sincerity in Your touch.

“So Hee,” You said softly, “that wasn’t you. That was him. And I’m not him.”

Her eyes met mine again, and for the first time, I saw the tears she’d been holding back. “I know,” she whispered. “But what if I’m the one who’s broken? What if I can’t give you what you deserve?”

“You’re not broken,” You said firmly. “And you don’t have to be anything for me. I just want you to be you. That’s enough.”

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to our intertwined hands. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “Scared that if I let you in, you’ll leave too.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” You promised. “Not now. Not ever.”

For a moment, there was only silence. The snow continued to fall around us, wrapping You two in a cocoon of stillness. Then, slowly, she leaned in, her forehead resting against mine. Her breath was warm against Your skin, and You could feel the rapid flutter of her heartbeat where our hands were clasped.

“Y/n,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t know what I’m doing. But I want to try.”

“That’s all I need,” You whispered back. “Just try.”

Her lips brushed against mine, soft and tentative, as if testing the waters. It wasn’t a kiss of passion, but one of vulnerability—a silent promise that she was willing to let me in. And in that moment, I knew I’d do whatever it took to keep that promise alive.

The snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in a quiet hush as You two sat there,trying to navigate the messy, beautiful chaos of love and healing. And for the first time in a long time, So Hee let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as alone as she thought.

The snow fell in soft, silent waves as you guided So Hee down the narrow streets, her hand warm and steady in yours. Her breath formed little clouds in the icy air, her cheeks pink from the cold, but there was something else in her eyes now—something brighter, bolder. A flicker of trust that hadn’t been there before.

Your place wasn’t far, but the walk felt endless, every step charged with an unspoken tension. The weight of her past still lingered in the air between you, but there was something else too—a kind of electricity that made your skin prickle and your heartbeat quicken. She didn’t speak, and neither did you. Words felt unnecessary now. The quiet between you was its own language.

When you finally reached your door, you fumbled with the key, your fingers shaking just enough to betray your nerves. So Hee stood beside you, her breath shallow, her eyes fixed on your hands as if she were memorizing the way they moved. The lock clicked, and you pushed the door open, stepping inside with her close behind.

The warmth of your apartment wrapped around the two of you like a blanket, the soft hum of the heater filling the silence. You turned to face her, and for a moment, you just stood there, your eyes locked in a silent conversation. Her lips parted slightly, a faint tremor running through her, and you could see it—the fear, the hesitation, but also the want. It was there, raw and unguarded, and it took everything in you not to pull her into your arms right then and there.

But you waited. You let her decide.

Her eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up, and something in her gaze shifted—softened. “Y/n…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was enough.

You closed the distance between you in one swift motion, your hands cupping her face as your lips met hers. It wasn’t gentle this time—it was hungry, desperate, like you were trying to erase every bit of pain she’d ever felt with one kiss. She gasped into your mouth, her hands gripping the front of your coat as she leaned into you, her body pressed tight against yours.

The kiss deepened, her tongue hesitantly brushing against yours, and a low groan escaped your throat. Your hands slid down to her waist, pulling her even closer until there was no space left between you. She responded with a soft moan, her fingers tangling in your hair as she kissed you back with a desperation that matched your own.

You stumbled backward, still locked in each other, until the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed. She broke the kiss for a moment, her chest heaving as she looked up at you, her eyes dark with need. “Y/n…” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I’m scared.”

You gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, your thumb grazing her cheek. “I know,” you murmured. “But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She searched your face for a moment, as if trying to find any sign of doubt, but when she found none, she nodded. “Okay.”

That single word was all you needed. Your lips crashed into hers again, and this time, there was no hesitation. Your hands moved to the buttons of her coat, fumbling slightly as you peeled it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She did the same with yours, her fingers shaking as she worked the zipper down and pushed it off your arms.

The layers between you disappeared one by one, each piece of clothing hitting the floor with a soft thud until there was nothing left but skin. Her hands traced the lines of your chest, her touch tentative but curious, and you could feel the heat of her skin against yours. You guided her backward onto the bed, your lips never leaving hers as you climbed over her, your body hovering just above hers.

Her breath hitched as your hands explored the curves of her body, every touch igniting a fire within her that she hadn’t felt in years. Her fingers dug into your back, pulling you closer as she arched into you, her hips pressing against yours in a way that made your head spin.

“Y/n…” she whispered, her voice breaking as your lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. “Please…”

You pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, your hand gently brushing her hair away from her face. “Tell me what you want,” you murmured, your voice rough with need.

Her lips trembled as she looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and desire. “I want you,” she whispered. “All of you.”

You kissed her again, slow and deep, as your hand slid down her side, tracing the curve of her hip before moving between her legs. She gasped into your mouth, her body trembling beneath your touch, and when you slipped a finger inside her, she let out a moan that sent a shudder through your entire body.

Her nails dug into your back as you moved your fingers in slow, deliberate strokes, each one drawing another breathless sound from her lips. Her hips rocked against your hand, her body seeking more of the pleasure you were giving her, and when you added a second finger, her back arched off the bed, a strangled cry escaping her throat.

“Y/n… I…” Her words dissolved into a moan as you curled your fingers inside her, hitting the spot that made her see stars. Her legs wrapped around your hips, pulling you closer as she came apart beneath you, her body trembling with the force of her orgasm.

You kissed her through it, your lips soft against hers as she rode out the waves of pleasure, her hands clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping her grounded. When she finally relaxed beneath you, her breath slowly evening out, you pulled back just enough to look into her eyes.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice gentle.

She nodded, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from kissing. “More than okay,” she whispered, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, she pushed you onto your back, her hands trailing down your chest as she straddled your hips. Her eyes met yours, and there was something new in them now—a confidence, a fire that hadn’t been there before. She leaned down, her lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss before she whispered, “My turn.”

And then her lips were on your neck, her teeth grazing your skin as she made her way down your chest, her hand wrapping around your length and stroking you slowly. You groaned, your head falling back against the pillow as she teased you, her touch light but deliberate, driving you absolutely mad.

“So Hee…” you breathed, your hands tangling in her hair as she took you into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip in a way that made your entire body tense. Her eyes met yours, and the sight of her like this—completely lost in the moment, her lips wrapped around you—was almost enough to push you over the edge.

But you wanted more. You wanted all of her.

With a shaky breath, you gently pulled her back up, your hands cupping her face as you kissed her deeply. She moaned into your mouth, her hips grinding against yours, and when you broke the kiss, she looked at you with an unspoken question in her eyes.

You reached for the nightstand, fumbling with the drawer until you found what you were looking for. She watched you, her breath coming in shallow pants, and when you rolled the condom on, she bit her lip, her hands tightening on your shoulders.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. “I’m sure.”

You kissed her again, slow and deep, as you positioned yourself at her entrance. Her hands gripped your shoulders as you pushed inside her, her body tense for a moment before she relaxed, a soft moan escaping her lips as she adjusted to the feel of you. When she finally nodded, urging you to move, you started slow, each thrust careful and deliberate, watching her face for any sign of discomfort.

But there was none. Only pleasure. Her eyes fluttered shut as she tilted her head back, her lips parting in a silent gasp, and when you hit the spot that made her see stars, her nails dug into your back, her hips rising to meet yours.

“Y/n… oh god…” she moaned, her voice breathless and broken, and it was the sweetest sound you’d ever heard.

You kissed her again, your lips swallowing her moans as you moved inside her, each thrust sending sparks

So Hee’s hands pressed firmly against your chest, her fingers splayed as she pushed you back onto the bed. Your back hit the mattress with a soft thud, and you looked up at her, breath already catching in your throat. Her hair cascaded around her face, slightly messy from your earlier kisses, and her eyes—dark, intense—held a fire you hadn’t seen before.

“Let me take the lead,” she whispered, her voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, your hands instinctively moving to her hips as she straddled you, her weight settling comfortably against you. Her skin was warm, her thighs brushing against yours as she leaned forward slightly, her lips hovering just above yours.

“You’re sure?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers tightening around her waist.

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, demanding, and it made your head spin. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, teasing and exploring, and you groaned, your hips involuntarily bucking up against hers.

She pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I’m sure,” she said, her voice dripping with confidence.

Then she shifted, her hips moving in slow, deliberate circles against yours. The friction was maddening, her body pressing against you in all the right ways, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips.

“Fuck, So Hee…” you breathed, your hands gripping her hips tighter as she continued to grind against you.

She let out a soft, breathy laugh, her hands sliding up your chest until they rested on either side of your head. “You like this?” she asked, her voice teasing as she leaned down, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You know I do,” you managed to reply, your voice strained as she moved against you, your cock throbbing with need.

She hummed softly, her lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that had your skin tingling. Then she pulled back again, her eyes locking onto yours as she rocked her hips forward, the movement slow and deliberate.

“Good,” she said, her voice a low purr. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

She sat up fully, her hands moving to your chest as she began to move faster, her hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that had you seeing stars. Her head tilted back, her lips parting in a soft gasp as pleasure washed over her, and you couldn’t take your eyes off her. She was breathtaking, the way she moved, the way she looked at you, the way she took what she wanted without hesitation.

Your hands moved from her hips to her thighs, your fingers digging into her soft skin as you clung to her, your own hips lifting to meet hers. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the soft, slick sound of her body moving against yours, and it was driving you wild.

“So Hee,” you groaned, your voice breaking as she shifted slightly, her movements becoming more urgent, more desperate.

She looked down at you, her eyes dark with desire, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “Say my name again,” she demanded, her voice husky as she leaned forward, her hands braced on either side of your head.

“So Hee,” you whispered, your voice shaky as she rocked against you, the pressure building inside you with each movement.

She kissed you again, her lips crashing against yours with a hunger that matched your own. Her tongue tangled with yours, muffling your moans as she continued to move against you, her body trembling slightly as she neared her own release.

“You feel so good,” she breathed against your lips, her voice barely audible as she pressed her forehead against yours.

You groaned, your hands moving to her back, pulling her closer as she quickened her pace. Her breath hitched, her body tensing as she reached her peak, and you followed soon after, your hips jerking up against hers as you came undone.

She collapsed against you, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, her lips brushing against your neck as she let out a soft, contented sigh.

You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as your heart rate slowly returned to normal. She was warm against you, her body fitting perfectly against yours, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“That was…” you started, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words.

She lifted her head, her eyes meeting yours, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Amazing?” she offered, her voice teasing as she traced a finger along your jawline.

You chuckled, nodding slightly. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

She kissed you softly, her lips lingering against yours for a moment before she pulled back, her eyes searching yours. “I meant what I said earlier,” she said, her voice serious now. “I don’t want you to fall for me.”

You frowned, your hand moving to cup her cheek. “Why not?”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “Because I’m scared,” she admitted softly. “Scared that if you do, I’ll lose you too.”

You kissed her again, your lips moving against hers in a way that you hoped conveyed everything you were feeling. “You won’t,” you whispered against her lips. “I promise.”

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