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thedreamingdevil · 2 days ago

Note

Incest smut with Jeon Somi please! 🙏😭 Write whatever with her, I don't mind! She lacks smut around here 🥲

Don't Get Drunk

Jeon Somi × Male Reader (6,082 words)

Author's note: Sorry for being MIA! The new year has been a bit wild. I got a little too greedy and wanted to write all my ideas at once, but then I ended up not finishing anything. Lesson learned, right? I’m aiming to post one smut piece every two weeks from now on, so wish me luck! Also, my first non-Dreamcatcher smut, woo!

The dim glow of your television paints the walls of your living room in shifting shades of blue as you lose yourself in the hardcore porn playing loudly on screen. Your hand traces the thick veins throbbing beneath the skin of your cock. Each stroke sends a pleasurable jolt through you as you watch the bodies writhe and moan.

Boxers are all you bother with tonight, the cool air raising goosebumps on your bare chest, a stark contrast to the heat building in your groin. You're completely engrossed, riding the edge of release, when a jarring buzz cuts through the porn’s soundtrack. Annoyance flares instantly, a tight knot in your stomach pulling you from the brink of pleasure.

You glance at your phone screen, the bright numbers mocking you: 12:37 AM. Who the hell is ringing your doorbell at this ungodly hour? It’s Saturday night, for fuck’s sake, people are supposed to be out partying, not bothering you in your sanctuary of solitude and self-love.

Before you can fully register your irritation, the doorbell bleats again, a longer, more insistent sound this time, as if the person on the other side is determined to get your attention. With a frustrated click of your tongue, you reluctantly pull your boxers up, the soft fabric momentarily trapping your still-hard dick.

The buzz resonates again, now bordering on aggressive. Fine, you think, you'll answer it and send whoever it is packing. You stomp to the door, adrenaline mixed with residual horniness making your movements jerky. You yank the door open with more force than necessary, ready to unleash a volley of irritated questions, but the words die on your tongue.

Standing on your doorstep are two women. One, a vibrant shock of pink hair, is supporting the other, who is practically draped over her shoulder. And you recognize them instantly. It's your older sister, Somi, completely plastered, and her eternally bubbly, pink-haired friend, Giselle.

Heat floods your face, a flush of embarrassment. You hadn’t expected visitors, especially not now, especially not in this state, shirtless and still smelling faintly of your own musk. You try to subtly tug your boxers higher, hoping they conceal enough. Giselle, however, just beams at you, her smile wide and bright even in the dim hallway light.

“Hey!” she chirps, her voice slightly breathless from the effort of holding up your taller sister. “Sorry to bother you so late, but well, Somi insisted on coming here.” Giselle’s eyes flick towards you, her smile softening into an apologetic curve. “I offered to let her crash at my place, but she was really set on seeing you.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair and pushing down the lingering mortification. Somi is a mess. Her blonde hair, usually meticulously styled, hangs in tangled clumps around her face. Her white blouse is askew, twisted so far to the side that the lacy edge of her bra is clearly visible, and the swell of her tits threatens to spill out of the neckline with every unsteady breath she takes.

She looks up at you, her eyes unfocused and glassy, and a wide, goofy grin spreads across her face. She slurs your name, her voice thick with alcohol. “You’re the best! Thank you for letting me stay!” She doesn’t even wait for you to agree, just assumes she’s welcome, as always.

Giselle’s voice cuts through Somi’s drunken ramblings, bringing you back to the awkward reality of the situation. “Yeah, sorry about this,” she repeats, her pronunciation softening the words. “I really tried to get her to come to my place, but… yeah, you see how that worked out.” She gestures helplessly at Somi, who is now attempting to hug Giselle's arm, giggling nonsensically.

You manage a small smile. "It's fine," resignation coloring your tone. "I know how stubborn she can be when she's like this." It’s an understatement. Somi sober is headstrong; Somi drunk is a force of nature. With a sigh, you reach out and disentangle Somi from Giselle, taking your sister’s weight onto yourself.

Her soft body pressed against yours, her chest bumping against your bare arm. “Thanks for bringing this blondie here,” you say to Giselle, nodding your head in gratitude. “Want to come in for a bit?”

The offer is half-hearted, because the blaring porn audio suddenly registers in your mind, a pulsing rhythm vibrating through the thinly insulated walls.

Luckily, Giselle shakes her head, her pink hair swaying. “Oh, no, it’s really late,” she says, her smile still warm but tinged with tiredness. “I should probably head home. Just make sure she drinks some water, okay?”

You nod, a silent thank you. You can’t quite tell if Giselle heard the muffled throbbing bass from your apartment, but she’s smiling as usual, so maybe she’s either oblivious or just incredibly polite.

“Goodnight!” she calls out, waving as she turns to walk away, her pink hair bobbing in the dim light. “Goodnight, Somi!”

You close the door, the click echoing in the sudden quiet. Then, you turn your attention to the drunken blonde lump in your arms. Somi instantly latches onto you, clinging like a koala, her arms wrapping around your neck, her soft chest pressing firmly against your arm.

You notice then that her short skirt has ridden even higher throughout the evening’s drunken escapades, now barely covering her thighs. You grunt slightly at her unexpected weight, and half-drag, half-carry her towards the living room, her body limp and pliant against yours.

You dump her unceremoniously onto the stool of the kitchen countertop first, her breathing heavy and shallow. You stare down at her semi-conscious form, a jumble of irritation and something else stirring within you.

From as far back as you can remember, Somi has been a constant source of trouble. Always needing rescuing, always making messes, always relying on you to clean up after her.

You’d foolishly hoped that adulthood would bring some semblance of responsibility, some maturity, but tonight proves that she’s only gotten worse. And it’s always you who has to deal with it.

You’re barely an adult yourself, just out of high school, juggling odd jobs to make ends meet. You can barely afford to feed yourself, let alone constantly bail out your trainwreck of a sister.

But as you look at her now, drunk and vulnerable, a different kind of thought surfaces. Maybe, just maybe, Somi’s perpetual negligence, her constant state of disarray, maybe it could be useful to you in some way.

Your gaze roams over her curvy body, lingering on her glossy parted lips, slightly swollen and wet-looking. It drifts lower, to the generous mound of her breasts, straining against the fabric of her blouse, the nipples hardening against the thin material in the cool air.

Finally, your eyes settle on her exposed thighs, bare and pale beneath the hiked-up skirt. Your own cock, still semi-hard from earlier, stirs inside your boxers, tightening with renewed insistence.

The images from the porn movie on the screen flicker in your peripheral vision, blurring with the real, tempting flesh before you; you older sister. A dangerous, thrilling idea begins to take root in your mind.

Somi slurs her words, leaning heavily against the countertop. "Hey... sorry about all the trouble," she says, her voice low and deep. "But you don't mind, right? Cause we're siblings, after all." She lets out a giggle, a wet, bubbly sound that ends in a snort.

She stumbles further into your apartment, clumsily making her way to the couch like she expects you to scoop her up and carry her, like she is some fat, lazy crocodile ready to be provided endless comfort.

Her breasts, unrestrained by a bra, bounce with each unsteady step, quivering under her thin top as she collapses onto the couch, where she sprawls out, limbs akimbo, like she owns the damn place.

You watch her, a low chuckle rumbling in your chest, the predatory feeling already starting to stir. "Of course, sis," you say, your voice smooth, almost too gentle. "I will take care of my sister."

She grins drunkenly, eyes unfocused and glazed over. "Knew I could count on you," she mumbles, already drifting off, her words blurring together.

You watch her for a moment, the image of her sprawled out on your couch igniting a heat in your groin. Quietly, you push your boxers down, the sound amplified in the still room. You reach inside, your fingers closing around the thick shaft already straining against the fabric.

With a swift motion, you pull them down, freeing your rock-hard cock. It springs out, heavy and throbbing, pulsing with anticipation as you approach the couch, your footsteps silent on the carpet.

Lowering yourself, you position yourself directly in front of her face, your cock level with her slightly parted lips. Without a word, you guide the head of your cock to her mouth, the tip nudging against her wet lips.

Then, with a firm push, you slide your cock inside, the warmth and moisture of her mouth enveloping you. You hiss in pleasure, the sensation electric. Somi moans, a confused sound escaping her throat. Instinctively, she tries to pull her face away, a weak resistance against your forceful advance.

But you're ready. Your hand shoots out, gripping the back of her neck, your fingers tangling in her hair, holding her head firmly in place. You push deeper, inch after inch, forcing more of your length into her mouth. Her tongue, surprisingly, wraps around your shaft, massaging you, a primal, instinctive response even in her drunken stupor.

Somi’s voice is muffled, a garbled protest against your intrusive cock. "Mmmph… no…" she manages to moan against your flesh, her hand weakly pushing against your thigh, a pathetic attempt to dislodge you. Her eyes flutter half-open, unfocused and confused.

But you’re lost in the sensation, the friction of her mouth, the growing pleasure tightening your balls. You hiss again, a sharp intake of breath, as you slide in and out, slowly at first, savoring the feel. Her moans of unconscious protest only fuel your excitement.

You lean closer, "Come on, sis," you whisper, the word dripping with a sick intimacy. "I know you’re a good cocksucker." You shift your grip on her nape, tightening it possessively. "Just suck my cock every day, and then you can stay here as long as you want. You don’t have to hear Dad’s nagging at home anymore."

The proposition hangs in the air, a twisted bargain made in the heat of the lustful moment. Somi's head bobs rhythmically, almost unconsciously. Despite her mumbled protests, her mouth tightens around your cock, her body seemingly overriding her conscious mind.

Her back arches slightly off the couch, a subtle shift in posture that reveals a buried desire. Her legs clamp together, rubbing against each other, a telltale sign of her own arousal, even in this forced encounter.

It's as if her body knows, deep down, that she’s a slut at the core, always ready to submit to pleasure. She starts humming unconsciously, a low vibration against your shaft, and more saliva coats your cock, making each thrust slicker, smoother.

You slide in and out of her mouth, her soft lips wrapping tight, almost pleasurably so, around your girth. Her drunken unconsciousness seems to be turning into something else, something more primal and accepting.

Emboldened by her lack of real resistance and her body's involuntary responses, you become rougher, fucking her face deeper, your thrusts becoming faster and more forceful. Somi gags, a choked sound escaping her throat, her eyes watering slightly.

Her free hand, no longer weakly pushing, now clutches at your balls, a tighter grip, a more desperate attempt to push you away, but even then, she's still sucking, her mouth still working against your cock at the same time.

You feel a surge of dominance. "Fuck," you breathe out, your hand tightening on her neck, ignoring her attempts to push you away. "If my sister treats me like this, I don't even need a girlfriend." The thought, crude and selfish, reinforces your actions, justifying your violation in your own twisted mind.

After a few more slow, deliberate thrusts, you feel yourself reaching the edge. Your pace quickens, your groans growing louder, more animalistic. Then, you explode, cumming right inside her mouth, a thick, hot stream of ejaculate erupting from your cock, flooding her mouth.

It just keeps coming, a long, intense orgasm that lasts for nearly a minute. Somi gulps it all down, her throat working reflexively, despite choking and sputtering for air. Finally, you pull out, your cock slick with her saliva and your cum. Somi coughs, a wet, hacking sound, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, her eyes still hazy and unfocused.

"What the fuck was that?" she slurs, her voice raw and thick. You know she’s still not really sober, her awareness only just starting to flicker back.

You answer with a smirk, your voice light, almost joking, hiding the darkness of your actions. "Giselle said make sure I give you water, sis," you say, watching her confused flushed expression. "But I'm not sure it's quite enough."

The flickering images on the television screen cast an erratic light across the living room, but your attention is far from the movie. It’s fixed on Somi, your sister, sprawled haphazardly on the couch. You’d expected a slurry, indignant argument – the usual performance when she’s this deep into her cups.

Instead, she simply rolled, a slow, ungainly tumble, and landed with a soft thud onto the floor. A light snore rattles from her lips. You scoff, a dry, humorless sound. It's pathetic, really. You try to refocus on the screen, but the vibrant colors and action feel hollow, meaningless against the backdrop of this tableau.

The remote clicks in your hand, plunging the room into near darkness, save for the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the window. The silence is thick, broken only by Somi’s shallow breaths. Your gaze drifts back to her prone form. A different kind of heat begins to prickle under your skin. You let your eyes trace the curves of her body, the way her shirt rides up slightly, exposing a sliver of pale skin above her skirt.

Suddenly, the images that flood your mind are no longer scenes from the abandoned porn movie. They are scenarios starring Somi, her body pliant and yielding beneath your touch. The forbidden nature of the fantasy ignites a thrill, a dangerous spark that flares in your gut. You feel your cock stir once again, hardening stubbornly.

It’s a slow, insistent rise, fueled by a cocktail of curiosity and a dark, unsettling desire.

A short, mirthless laugh escapes your lips, echoing in the quiet room. "This is fucked up," you murmur to yourself, the words barely a whisper. And it is. Completely, utterly fucked up. Yet, the thought of stopping, of pulling back from the precipice of this madness, feels…unappealing.

A strange inertia holds you captive. No guilt washes over you, no immediate sense of revulsion. Instead, there's a chilling detachment, a sensation of watching yourself from a distance as you stand and, with a grunt, scoop your sister up from the floor. Her limbs are heavy, limp. You carry her back to the couch, the scent of cheap alcohol and something faintly floral clinging to her.

You lay her on her back, her head lolling to the side. Straddling her waist, you plant one knee deliberately between her thighs, feeling the soft give of her panties. Leaning close, your face inches from her slack-jawed, heaving face, you take a shallow breath, inhaling the boozy air she exhales.

Your hand, almost of its own volition, reaches out and closes over her breast, through the thin cotton of her shirt. You squeeze, your fingers sinking into the soft flesh. They’re soft. Softer than you assume. You knead, fondling the yielding mound, and Somi lets out a small, involuntary moan, a pathetic, muffled sound that vibrates against your fingertips.

Encouraged, or perhaps driven by something darker, you grip the hem of her shirt and tug it upwards, over her head. It’s a clumsy, quick motion, revealing her chest. Her breasts are already spilling over the lace edges of her bra, full and ripe. Without hesitation, you reach behind her and unhook the clasp, the plastic clicking open with a sharp sound in the quiet. The bra falls away, and her breasts, pale and heavy, are fully exposed.

A primal urge takes hold. You begin to play with them, your hands roaming over the smooth skin, groping and pulling, your thumbs circling her nipples, teasing them into hard buds. You repeat the circular motion, again and again, a hypnotic rhythm that feeds the growing tension in your groin.

"Fuck it," you breathe, another dry laugh rasping in your throat. "I can’t believe I’m actually doing this." The absurdity of the situation crashes into you for a fleeting moment.

Memories flicker in your mind – images of childhood games in the backyard, of late-night arguments over shared snacks, of sharing secrets whispered under the covers. Somi, your sister, the girl who used to play with your hair for fun and steal your candy. The contrast is jarring, sickening even. But your body, your treacherous body, has a different agenda.

Ignoring the ghost of shared history, you lean down, your mouth hovering over her smooth skin. With an act of transgression, you latch onto her brown nipple. Your heart hammers against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the room. You can’t stop now, not even if you wanted to.

You suck on Somi’s nipple, pulling and teasing, the sensation electrifying, forbidden. You taste her skin, a flavor you can’t quite place, something unfamiliar yet intimately connected to her. It’s salty, definitely salty, probably from sweat and the lingering remnants of her drink. But there’s also a sweetness, a subtle sugary note that plays on your tongue. Or maybe you’re just imagining it, your senses heightened by the illicit nature of this act.

It doesn't matter. Lost in the sensation, you keep sucking, alternating between her left and right breast, your hands massaging and kneading the soft flesh, milking them almost, as if trying to extract every last drop of sensation.

Suddenly, Somi’s hands are on your head. At first, they’re tentative, fluttering weakly against your scalp. But then, her fingers clench, digging into your hair, pulling with a surprising strength. She moans again, louder this time, a drawn-out sound that vibrates in your very bones. Her body begins to writhe beneath you, a subtle shift at first, then more pronounced.

Her legs come up, clamping around your waist, her thighs tightening, a silent, involuntary embrace. Her feet kick against the couch cushions, a restless energy fluttering through her limbs. Noticing the reaction, a flicker of something – triumph, perhaps, or a twisted kind of validation – sparks within you.

"Do you like this, Somi?" you murmur against her breast. "Do you want more?" Her eyelids flutter open, revealing unfocused, glazed eyes. She looks at you, a hint of confusion in her gaze, and then, instead of words, a soft whimper escapes her lips. It’s not a protest, not exactly. It’s something else.

Somi’s scent, a heady mix of alcohol and something uniquely her, urges you onward. You lift your head from her breast and trail kisses down her neck, nibbling and sucking at the soft flesh, feeling the pulse jump beneath your lips. Your hands roam lower, across her soft, slightly rounded tummy, towards her waist. You lift her hips slightly, your fingers finding the curve of her ass beneath her skirt.

The fabric is thin, offering little resistance as you squeeze her firm buttocks, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. This time, the whimper is replaced by something sharper, louder. "Wait, fuck…" she curses, her voice thick with sleep and confusion. "What the… what are you doing?" her voice is laced with a growing alarm.

You ignore Somi’s mumbled question, her words slurring slightly, and your hands tighten their grip on her bare breasts. “What…?” she starts to ask again, but you cut her off, your mouth descending to her stomach. You press kisses across her warm skin, the taste of her faintly sweet, before your tongue dips into her navel.

As you swirl your tongue around its depths, Somi’s back arches off the couch with a sharp groan. “Ahh…!” she protests weakly, a confused sound in her voice.

But beneath the protest, you feel the tremor in her body, the involuntary ripple of her muscles as she writhes against the weird, wet slide of your tongue. Her hands come up to your shoulders, gripping them, not pushing you away, but holding on as her body reacts in ways her words don't seem to understand.

Driven by a mounting excitement, you move your kisses lower, the line of her pelvis coming into focus. "Wait," Somi murmurs, but it’s barely audible. You’re already working on the button of her skirt, fingers fumbling with the clasp in your eagerness. With a snap, it gives way, and you roughly yank the fabric down, bunching it around her thighs, then off her legs completely.

You straighten up, her skirt now discarded on the floor, and you place her legs over your shoulders, spreading them wide. Her breath hitches, and a louder grunt escapes her lips as she instinctively tries to clamp her thighs shut. Her hands, still clumsy, reach down, attempting to shield her clothed pussy. “Stop, just… stop,” she mumbles, but her words are weak, unconvincing.

You slap her hands away from between her legs, the sound echoing in the quiet room, leaving her exposed. “Shhh,” you hush her, your voice low. “Don’t be shy, sis. We’re siblings, remember?” You gesture to the darkening stain spreading across the crotch of her panties. “Besides, you’re drunk. It’s okay. You want this, I know you do.”

You become rougher, your fingers hooking into the elastic waistband of her panties. There’s a sharp ripping sound as you tear the fabric apart, the thin material giving way easily. You pluck away the remaining tattered pieces, tossing them aside, leaving her completely bare. “See?” you say, your voice laced with a predatory satisfaction. “Nothing to hide.”

The scent of Somi’s arousal hits you full force, a heady musk that’s intoxicating, like a potent drug. It compels you, driving you to plunge your face directly into her exposed vulva. Her pussy is slick with her own juices, and the aroma is even stronger up close. You lick from the base of her swollen folds all the way up to her hard, throbbing clitoris, savoring every inch of her.

With each slow, deliberate lap of your tongue, you gulp in her flavor, the salty-sweet tang of her arousal filling your mouth. Somi gasps, her eyes fluttering open, wide and unfocused. A moan escapes her lips, soft at first, then growing louder, more desperate. “Please…” she whispers, her voice breaking, repeating the word again, “Please… please…”

Ignoring her plea, you continue to feast on her, your tongue relentlessly working her clit. You suck on the sensitive bud, drawing it deep into your mouth, slurping up every drop of juice she unknowingly produces. Her erratic moans and groans are music to your ears, confirming you’re doing exactly what her drunk body craves.

Holding her hips firmly in place with one hand, you suck her clit harder, then slide two fingers deep inside her wet pussy, curling them upwards against the sensitive walls. Somi’s back arches even higher, her ass lifting entirely off the couch as if she’s trying to grind herself against your mouth and thrusting fingers.

Her moaning intensifies, becoming higher-pitched, more needy, almost frantic. One hand presses against her stomach, flexing and unflexing, while the other hand clenches the edge of the couch, her knuckles white. Her breathing is ragged pants now, each inhale and exhale shuddering through her.

Lost in the intoxicating taste and feel of her, you barely register the shift until it’s undeniable. Somi grunts, her body tensing, and then a choked-off swear word bursts from her lips. A moment later, her orgasm explodes, her nectar suddenly flooding your mouth in a rush of warm, thick liquid.

You greedily drink as much as you can, slurping up the rest as her body shudders violently, then gradually stills. Her breathing remains heavy, ragged, but the tension slowly drains away. Her eyes are still half-lidded, blinking slowly at the ceiling, unfocused and glazed over.

You sit upright between her legs, pulling her closer until her thighs straddle your waist. Your own cock is throbbingly hard and it twitches insistently right in front of her wet, pink entrance. You chuckle, a low, satisfied sound. “Wow, look at you,” you say, gesturing to the slickness between her legs. “You came hard. Guess you had your fun, huh? Now it’s my turn.”

She slowly looks down at you, her expression still hazy, but then, surprisingly, a giggle bubbles up from her throat. She reaches down and her fingers close around her own breasts, giving them a soft, distracted rub, her eyes still drifting.

You watch as, with a languid movement, she cups her breasts, fingers kneading and teasing, her thumbs circling and flicking over her taut nipples, bringing them to hard peaks. A low moan escaped her lips, mixing with your faint breathing. Then, a shift in posture. She hooks her hands beneath her knees, pulling them abruptly upwards, her thighs parting wide, an unapologetic display. Her legs frame the thin triangle at her core, slick and glistening even presented to you like a forbidden offering.

A laugh bubbles up from your chest. "Holy shit, sis," you manage, your voice a little breathless, a mix of shock. "Are you...are you actually into this right now?" Your older sister’s eyes, heavy-lidded with drink, meet yours, a flicker of something mischievous dancing within their depths. She bites down on her lower lip, a playful tug that accentuates its fullness, and a giggle, soft and throaty, escapes.

"Mmm," she hums, her gaze drifting down your body before returning to your eyes. "You've got a nice cock, you know that?" Her words are slurred but clear, each syllable deliberately laced with invitation. "And I think," her voice dropping to a whisper, "you totally need to put it inside my pussy."

The blatant filth dripping from your sister’s usually prim lips ignites something. A hot rush floods your groin. Without a second thought, your hand clamps around your already hardening shaft, the throbbing vein beneath your fingers pulsing with anticipation. You take a step closer, the couch looming, and you smack your engorged cock against the wet folds of her vulva. The sound is wet and resonant, echoing in the quiet room.

Somi’s breath hitches, a gasp turning into a drawn-out moan as the contact sends jolts of pleasure through her. Her body arches off the couch cushion, her hips bucking instinctively against your hand. The slick pre-cum and her own juices splatter outwards, glistening on her thighs and the velvet of the couch.

"Okay then, sis. I'm gonna fuck you now." You straddle her legs, parting them further with your knees, positioning yourself above her exposed core. With agonizing slowness, you guide the swollen head of your cock to the entrance of her slick, warm pussy, feeling the velvety soft lips part to receive you. Then, in one controlled motion, you push forward, sinking into her depths.

Her breath catches again, a sharp intake that quickly turns into a sigh of pure sensation as you slide deeper, the tight walls of her sheath gripping you like a hot glove. You grip her hips, anchoring her as you begin to move, driving forward with a slow thrust. Somi’s back arches even further, her breasts lifting towards the ceiling, straining against their own weight.

Her head throws forward as she tries to steal a glimpse of your cock disappearing deep inside her stretched pussy. You pause at the deepest point, holding yourself there for a heartbeat, savoring the fullness, the intimate pressure, the feeling of being buried inside her. Pulling back just until the tip is still nestled inside her, you slam forward again, burying yourself to the hilt.

A groan escapes her lips, her sweaty body rippling with the force of the impact, her muscles clenching around you in response. You repeat the rhythm, each thrust deeper and harder than the last, fucking your older sister with a growing urgency, your hands gripping her waist, pulling her towards you, meeting each of your deep, hard thrusts with an equally frantic upward lift of her hips.

Somi’s breasts bounce wildly, swaying up and down unevenly, the fleshy mounds jiggling with each powerful stroke, the underside of your balls slapping against the soft crack of her ass with a rhythmic thud. The sounds of your bodies colliding fill the room, punctuated by her escalating moans and your own ragged breaths.

"Oh, fuck," Somi mumbles drunkenly, words thick with pleasure, her hands now clutching at your shoulders, digging into your muscle. "It's so deep," she gasps, "fuck me harder, please."

The raw desperation in her voice is intoxicating. Driven by her pleas and the mounting intensity within you, you snap your hips harder, the pace quickening, the friction building. You lean down, burying your face in the curve of her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin, hot and flushed and intoxicating, and whisper against her ear, "If I go any harder, sis, I might just cum inside you and get you pregnant."

Of course, Somi was too far gone to grasp the implications of your words. Her mind was lost in the swirling vortex of pleasure. She just kept mumbling incoherently, her only coherent plea being, "fuck me harder… it's so good… I’m… almost… cumming…" Her toes curled inwards, digging into the couch cushion, and her hands clutched at your back, her nails lightly raking against your skin. Her tits were squished against your chest, their soft weight a delicious friction as your nose inhaled the intoxicating scent from the crook of her neck.

Your breathing grew shallow and rapid, your body straining with the effort to prolong this forbidden bliss. But Somi wasn't holding back any longer. Her movements stilled, her body suddenly going rigid beneath you. A silent wave of tension washed over her, replaced in moments by a shuddering release. You didn't need her to say a word; you felt it instantly, a hot, pulsing sensation as her orgasm flooded down around your pistoning cock, her inner muscles clenching and spasming in rhythmic waves.

The realization that you were fucking your own older sister raw, the echo of her voice begging for more, the wet, slick feel of her orgasm enveloping your cock – it all coalesced into an overwhelming wave of sensation. You reached your own precipice, teetering on the edge of oblivion. Separating your face from her neck, you dropped down, latching onto one of her swollen nipples with your mouth, biting down hard just as you slammed your cock deep, deep inside her canal.

Spurt after spurt of scalding semen erupted inside Somi's pussy, filling her with your forbidden seed. She cried out, a muffled sound as she gripped your hair, pressing your face harder into her boob, her fingers tangling in your locks. You huffed against the soft mound of her breast, every muscle in your body clenched tight, riding the peak of your orgasm. Slowly, languidly, you rolled your hips, prolonging the blissful, taboo-laden experience as your cum continued to pulse inside her.

The aftermath of your release hangs heavy in the air, thick with the scent of sex. You pull back from your older sister, the squelch of your dick leaving her wet depths echoing in the sudden silence that descends now that your ragged breaths are slowing. You shift back onto the plush cushions of your worn-out couch, the withdrawal making your cock feel strangely cold against the air.

A thick glob of your cum oozes from her folds, a pearly trail tracing a path downwards, a rivulet heading towards the shadowed cleft of her untouched asshole. Somi is completely still, lost in the deep abyss of drunken slumber. Her head lolls to the side, cheek pressed against the couch fabric, her breathing shallow and even. Naked and vulnerable, she's laid out, a tableau of post-coital abandon.

A question claws at the edge of your consciousness – will she even remember any of this tomorrow? The thought flits through your mind, quickly followed by a surge of guilt and a thrill of illicit excitement. You’re breathing hard, chest heaving, your gaze fixed on her unconscious form. The soft rise and fall of her chest is mesmerizing, the curve of her body smooth and inviting in the dim light filtering through the blinds.

Then, the weight of reality crashes down on you, solid and undeniable. This happened. You actually went there. You fucked your sister. And not just a quick fumble, but a full-blown, unprotected creampie situation in her womb. There's no erasing it, no taking it back.

A low chuckle wheezes up from your throat, tinged with disbelief. "Fucking crazy," you mutter under your breath. You lean closer to Somi, a whisper inches from her ear. "You liked that, didn't you? You enjoyed that as much as I did, right?" Silence is her only reply, her peaceful slumber undisturbed by your whispered question.

Even in the aftermath, even with the dampness cooling on your skin, your cock refuses to fully submit. It throbs with a semi-erection, a persistent reminder of the pleasure you just experienced, and a blatant demand for more. Her nakedness, the lingering scent of her arousal, it’s all too potent. You can't deny the pull, the urge to dive back in.

Carefully, you slide off the couch, your bare feet padding softly on the worn carpet. You reach for Somi, gently looping her arm around your neck, her limp weighing on you. Then, you bend down, slipping your other arm under her knees, scooping her up in a bridal carry. She’s heavier than you expected, loose and pliant in your arms. You carry her through the narrow hallway to the spare room, the one you usually leave empty for nothing in particular it seems, until now. You reach the bed, a simple mattress on a frame, and gently toss her onto it.

A soft groan escapes her lips as she lands, rolling onto her side, facing away from you. You climb onto the bed beside her, the mattress dipping under your weight. With a hand on her hip, you turn her back towards you, then gently lift her up onto her knees, her ass rising invitingly in the air. Her upper body, still heavy with sleep, falls forward onto the mattress, her breasts spilling out, nipples brushing against the sheet.

You kneel behind her, your own cock stirring with renewed vigor, the sight of her presented ass sending a jolt of lust through you. You press yourself against her, rubbing your semi-hard cock against her wet entrance, feeling it thicken and lengthen with each passing second.

“You shouldn’t have gotten so drunk and come here, Somi,” you murmur into her hair, the words more for yourself than her. “You know that, right?” You nip at the nape of her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat. “And you know you liked getting fucked by your brother. Don’t even try to deny it.” Your voice is filled with the need to possess her. “One round isn’t going to cut it, sis. Not after this. I’m going to fuck you until my cock is sore and limp. Until you wake up and realize what we did.”

Consequences be damned. You’ll deal with the fallout, the inevitable chaos, when it comes. Right now, all that matters is this moment, this chance to feast on your older sister, to brand her with your mark until she’s fully sober and forced to confront the reality of what’s happening.

With that thought burning in your mind, you grind yourself against her hips, and thrust forward, penetrating her slick pussy from behind, driving yourself deep, right to the hilt. Somi lets out a muffled gasp, a sound that could be pleasure, could be protest, lost in the moment as you begin to move.

#kpop smut #girl group smut #jeon somi smut #jeon somi #somi smut #male reader #male reader smut #girl group x male reader

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zvdvdlvr · 2 days ago

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thinkin about emotionally strong reader falling apart into bf’s arms… :,)

He knows it’s bad when you can’t bring yourself to say anything: no witty remarks to play it off, no humble shrug to show that it didn’t phase you- not even a weak joke that you’d heard from passerby during the previous week. He would have known anyway but he knows how bad it is when you can’t hide the wobble in your chin when you meet him at the door and melt into his arms.

The sound of your stifled cries weaken his heart because he just knows how long you’ve been trying to hold it all together. You don’t know that he sheds his own tears at your sorrow. You don’t know that he feels his own pained heart grow just a touch because you trust him enough to be able to comfort you- to run to him when there is something you really can’t make better.

When you finally stop trying to smother out the sound of your cries, it breaks his own heart into pieces because your grief is his. He doesn’t know what to do in this pile on the floor- your arms wrapped tightly around him in fear of him leaving with one hand resting at the top of your head and the other one of his hands supporting your neck as you weep into his shoulder- so he just holds you.

And later, when your cries turn hoarse and the tears run dry, you let him pull you to your feet. He carries you to the dark bedroom because he knows you get headaches after crying. When you still don’t say a word he goes to the kitchen and scavenges some Tylenol and a cup of water.

He knows you don’t like to feel helpless- to feel like you need to rely on someone. But if he’s being honest, he likes being able to care for you. He likes how you curl up with your head on his chest and your hands wrapped around him. He likes how you let him draw shapes on your back because you secretly love the physical touch. He likes how you let out soft sighs throughout the course of the movie because he knows you’re still awake.

But most of all, he likes the intamacy of being the one you run to when it’s all too much because damn it all to hell if he made you feel like you weren’t free to be vulnerable with him.

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carnalcrows · 2 days ago

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DETECTIVE - JUNHO

pairing: junho x top male reader

synopsis: Your boyfriend returns from work all stressed and pent up. You decide to relieve him of his troubles.

content warnings: 18+, bottom junho, unprotected sex, breeding, creampie, junho gets a little cock drunk.

word count: 1.0k

A/N: had fun with this request!! tysm anon <3

Jun-ho stumbled into the apartment, the weight of his investigation etched deeply into his tired features. His tie was loose, his shirt half-untucked, and his hair looked like he’d run his hands through it at least a hundred times that day. You were sprawled on the couch, casually flipping through a magazine, but the moment you heard the door creak open, you shot up to greet him.

“Rough day, detective?” you teased lightly, offering him a grin as he kicked off his shoes with the enthusiasm of a man who had been on his feet for far too long.

“Rough doesn’t even cover it,” he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “I’m chasing ghosts, and every lead either disappears or ends up dead.”

You frowned sympathetically, stepping closer to slide your arms around his waist. “That’s why you’ve got me,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “To make you forget all about those pesky ghosts.”

Jun-ho gave a weary chuckle, his hands finding their place on your hips. “You always know how to make me feel better,” he murmured, though his shoulders remained tense.

“Well, that’s my job, isn’t it?” you quipped, gently pulling him toward the bedroom. “Come on, Mr. Detective. You need to relax, and I’ve got just the plan.”

The bedroom was dimly lit, a few candles casting a warm glow across the room. You pushed him gently onto the bed, your hands working at the buttons of his shirt before he could protest. “You need to stop overworking yourself,” you scolded playfully. “I can’t have my boyfriend turning into a stress zombie.”

Jun-ho sighed, letting you slide the shirt off his shoulders. “Easier said than done,” he mumbled. “This case… It's like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The scale of it, the cruelty—”

“Shhh,” you interrupted, pressing a finger to his lips. “No work talk. Just you, me, and forgetting all about whatever’s out there.”

He looked at you, his dark eyes softening as a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, you love me,” you replied smugly, leaning in to kiss him.

What started as a gentle kiss quickly deepened, the tension in his body melting away under your touch. Your hands roamed his back, coaxing him to relax as he let out a quiet, contented sigh. His lips moved against yours with increasing fervor, and you felt his earlier exhaustion being replaced by something far more passionate.

Your hands slid down his waist, settling at the hem of his pants, gently tugging them off.

“ ‘M gonna take care of you tonight,” you mumbled before pressing a kiss to his shoulder, before trailing them all the way to his happy trails.

You slightly nipped at his boxers, before pulling them down with your teeth, making him shudder.

“Fuck– just put it in already,” he mumbled, to which you merely smirked before picking up the packet of lube you had kept near the bedside and ripping it with your teeth.

The cool liquid slid down your fingers, and you took one and prodded at his home, before slowly sliding it in.

Jun-ho moaned at the intrusion, it had been a while since the two of you had done anything together.

You slid another digit in, followed by a third one. Three fingers were pumping in and out of the man, eliciting the most beautiful noises you had ever heard in a while.

Deeming him prepped enough, you removed you fingers, and replaced them with your hardened length, groaning as his hole clenched around the tip.

Jun-ho let out a loud moan, feeling filled to the brim. You slowly slid all the way in, stopping when your pelvis was reading against his ass.

“Gonna move now baby,” you uttered before pulling out all the way to the tip before slamming back in. His back arched, eyes going to the back of his head.

You showed no mercy with your thrusts, every single one hitting his prostate.

Jun-ho was clinging onto the bed sheets with a desperation, his legs tightening their grip on your thighs, pulling you closer into him.

His brain had gone haywire, you cock filling the empty space. It was all he could think about– if he could even think, given the situation.

Without warning, he came– painting both his and your torsos. You didn't stop however, merely speeding up your thrusts, making him whine from the overstimulation.

His hole clenched around you tightly, and you felt yourself release, coating his insides with your seed.

Jun-ho whined when you pulled out of him, feeling empty. You got up and grabbed a washcloth, wiping him down before cleaning yourself up. Throwing the cloth away, you tucked him into bed, laying down beside him and letting sleep take you over.

Hours later, Jun-ho was fast asleep beside you, his breathing steady and peaceful. You watched him for a moment, a soft smile playing on your lips as you brushed a strand of hair from his face. He looked so serene, so trusting.

And then your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, grabbing the device and stepping into the other room. You glanced at the screen, your stomach flipping when you saw the name: Front Man.

You hesitated for only a moment before answering. “It’s done,” you whispered, your voice calm and controlled. “He’s completely distracted.”

A deep, distorted voice replied, “Good. Keep him that way. We can’t afford any interference.”

Your lips curved into a smirk, your eyes flicking back toward the bedroom where Jun-ho slept soundly. “He won’t suspect a thing. I’ll make sure of it.”

There was a pause on the other end, and then the voice said, “You’ve done well. Don’t forget where your loyalties lie.”

“Of course not,” you replied smoothly, ending the call and placing the phone back on the counter.

As you returned to bed, sliding under the covers beside Jun-ho, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something—was it guilt? Regret? It didn’t matter. You’d made your choice long ago, and there was no turning back.

You wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close as he unconsciously leaned into your touch. “Goodnight, detective,” you murmured softly, pressing a kiss to his temple. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

And as the night stretched on, you lay there with him, your mind already calculating your next move.

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kdollikesthighs · 1 day ago

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Dystopia: part 1

Itzy Chaeryeong x m reader A/N: Guess I'm doing this for everyone in itzy now. Very light on the smut, but it'll ramp it up later. Word count: 1,853 words.

The world outside was a dystopia. That’s an exaggeration. It was your dystopia. Every second spent away from home for you is hell.

A frigid wind rushed through the streets as you trudged the last block to your home, the sharp sting of it cutting through your coat like it had a grudge against you personally.

It wasn’t just the cold that made the day unbearable—it was everything. The noise, the pace, the people. The sharp bark of your boss’s voice replayed in your head, a grating reminder of how the hours had dragged on. You’d spent the day on eggshells, nodding along to passive-aggressive jabs and vague threats. He didn’t care about the work you did, not really. All he wanted was numbers, results, a perfect machine in an imperfect world.

The streets outside weren’t much better. People moved like ghosts, unaware of everybody else’s existence. There was no warmth, no connection, just a sea of indifferent faces that blurred together. Even the air felt hostile, like it had a biting chill that seeped deep into your bones and refused to let go.

You passed the neon sign of the convenience store on the corner, its exaggerated glow casting jagged shadows across the pavement. You didn’t belong out here, in this cold, soulless expanse. Every step felt like a fight to keep from collapsing under the weight of it all. But then—then you saw the light from your apartment window, a soft, golden glow that cut through the darkness like a beacon.

Your chest tightened as you climbed the stairs, each step pulling you closer to her. You didn’t belong out there, but here? Here you had her.

The moment you opened the door, it hit you: euphoria. Something that wrapped around you and made the world outside feel like a distant nightmare.

The second you stepped through the door, the smell of something delicious wafted through the air, but it didn’t hold your attention for long. Your focus was entirely on Chaeryeong, humming softly to herself in the kitchen, swaying gently as she worked her magic. She was dressed in a casual tube-top that exposed just enough of her shoulders to have your pulse racing, her hair tied up loosely like she’d been in a rush.

You cautiously dropped your bag by the door without making any noise, loosening your tie as you leaned against the frame to watch her, to really take in the sight of what you were lucky enough to get home to. She didn’t notice you at first, too focused on whatever she was stirring on the stovetop, but when the door snapped shut behind you she finally glanced over her shoulder and caught your eye, her face lit up in that bright, familiar smile.

There was something else woven into her tone tonight, something that made your heart stutter for a moment. It wasn’t just happiness, no, it was almost giddy, like she had a secret she was waiting for you to uncover.

“Welcome home, husband!” she said, her voice sweet and teasing.

And that was it. It was all you needed to rewire your brain, like it always did when she called you that, with so much affection in her voice that it made you feel like you were the luckiest man alive. You are the luckiest man alive. “Come here,” you said, your voice already thick with desire as you crossed the distance between you in a few quick strides.

“Wait, wait,” she giggled, holding up her hands as if to stop you, though there was no real resistance in her movements. “I’m cooking—”

“Don’t care,” you muttered, your hands already finding her waist and pulling her close. “You’ve been teasing me since I walked in.”

“I wasn’t teasing you!” she protested, though her laugh betrayed her as her hands rested squarely against your chest. “You’re always teasing me,” you countered, your voice teasing your wife back as your lips brushed her ear. “Walking around like this, looking like a dream, calling me husband like you know exactly what it does to me.”

Her smile only grew upon hearing your neediness. And there it was again, that hint of something behind her eyes, something warm and secretive, a glow that had nothing to do with the kitchen lights.

Her soft laugh turned into a breathless gasp as your hands slid down ever so slightly, gripping exposed waist firmly. “I’m just being a good wife,” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she looked up at you through her lashes.

She had been extra affectionate recently, not that she wasn’t usually, but tonight it felt almost like she was trying to tell you something without saying it outright. Had she been like this all week? You tried your best to remember. The little things, the way she lingered in your arms a second longer each morning, the satisfied look she’d had last night as she recovered from being filled up by you. And then there was the way she’d been more tired lately, dozing off against you when you were cuddling on the couch.

Chaeryeong tried to twist out of your grip towards the unattended kitchen counter, her laughs giving away her enjoyment of this as she was pinned between the granite and your body. “I have to stir that—” “I have to kiss you,” you interrupted, brushing your nose across hers softly as your lips hovered just above hers, reveling in the way her breath hitched by your advancements. “You’re impossible,” she whispered against your lips, her hands sliding up to the back of your neck. Your grip tightened on her waist just slightly, as you lingered there for a beat longer than usual, like you were trying to ground yourself in her warmth. “And you’re glowing tonight,” you breathed out, almost as if it was the only thing that felt right saying.

She let out a soft laugh, tilting her head sideways. “Glowing?”

You hesitated. You weren’t sure what you meant by that. Was it something about the way she looked tonight? Or even, the way she felt? You couldn’t place it, but it had your mind spinning. She huffed, but the way her knees wobbled betrayed any pretense. Chaeryeong’s hands slid upwards on your chest, her fingers grazing your neck as they found their way to your face. “You had a bad day, didn’t you?”

You exhaled through your nose, your grip on her waist tightening ever so slightly. The memory of today was enough to make you want to squeeze her tight. Like you feared losing her. She always knew.

“You always get extra clingy when work sucks,” she played up in a teasing tune, playful but her touch gentle as she cupped your face on both cheeks. “Not that I’m complaining.”

You puffed out a small laugh tainted with disbelief, pressing your forehead against hers. “I always want you. Bad day or not.”

Her giggle was warm, but she didn’t push for more. There was no need to tarnish this moment. She just held you there, like she knew you needed this moment, the grounding weight of her body against yours. An affecting smile painted her lips. It was clear she had her own things she needed to talk to you about, but it quickly disappeared as she focused on what mattered more to her. Making sure you felt relieved.

Right as you wanted to claim her lips as your prize, she ducked under your arms and— oh. She slipped onto her knees right there in the middle of the kitchen, looking up at you with a mischievous glint and playful giggle. “Well, if we’re already delaying dinner,” she mused with obvious intentions, fingers tracing slow patterns along your buckled belt, “I can think of another way to wash away your stress.” Your breath stilled. She was perfect. “Chaer…” She grinned at your slow moan, biting her lip knowing you both know where this night was headed. “Say it.” You swallowed hard, your voice going lower with an intense need. “You’re the best fucking wife in the world.” Her delighted giggle at your correct answer sent a shiver down your spine. “I know, hubby.” Hearing her call you husband or hubby was like getting hit by a lightning bolt. Anything you ever worried about disintegrated, and you were filled with a vigor to fuck her properly, like a good husband should. Your hands found their way to the back of her head, your grip tightening in her messy hair as you exhaled, everything melting away in the face of Chaeryeong’s mischievous devotion to you. She loved this. And you knew. She loved seeing you like this, unraveling just from the anticipation alone. It made her giddy with joy, the way you looked down at her, into her, with that wrecked, desperate, yearning expression, as if she was the only thing in the world that mattered. Because to you, she is the only thing that matters. “Look at you,” you grunted, your voice wavering from trying to hold back. “You’re too good to me, wifey.”

She hummed, pleased. Of course, she couldn’t help but hum, because she was just like you, unable to resist what her body desired the second you called her wife or wifey. She pressed a slow, lingering kiss with her plump lips against your abdomen, just above the waistband of your pants. Her fingers trailed and danced and teased along the edge of your belt, making a show of being slow. Of taking her time. She was going to enjoy this. Enjoy you. Enjoy her husband. And she knew it drove you insane.

Ragged breaths flowed out of your mouth, resisting the irresistible urge to just take, to guide, to speed up the process. To ruin her. But she was enjoying this, enjoying watching you become undone for her, and you loved her so that you could never deny her this. Her fingers curled around and behind your waistband, pulling it up ever so slightly as she looked up at you through her thick eyelashes, eyes twinkling with desire. “You’re really holding back,” she teased with a big smile, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her voice as saccharine and playful as ever, like she wasn’t rewiring your brain at its core. Another hard swallow. “Trying to be good for you.”

She giggled, leaning in closer as if she already knew what she was gonna say next would destroy you. “Oh, my sweet husband… I don’t want you to be good right now.” You snapped, you broke, and you took what was yours. Your one hand pulled her hair at its root back, your other found her jaw, tilting her face up to meet your gaze, your thumb brushing over her flushed cheeks, as her eyes looked at you expectantly.

“You just want to get your mouth fucked by your husband, huh?” You asked without waiting for an answer. “Be a good little wife for me, and open wide.”

And she did—without hesitation, without a second thought, with full devotion— because, of course, she was yours.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #m reader #male reader #kpop smut #smut #itzy smut #chaeryeong smut

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killiaia · 2 days ago

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PHOTO SHOOT.

Rosé x male reader.

When Rosé asked you to accompany her to her photo shoot, you immediately agreed. You're happy she asked you.

Of course, you feel out of place in the middle of it all, but when Rosé flashes you a smile between photos, you're right at home.

Rosé is absolutely gorgeous. The photos are superb and Rose was definitely born for this kind of thing. It's natural for her to pose. You wouldn't be able to do all that, it would be far too embarrassing.

What's also embarrassing is the fact that you have a boner. Which is perfectly normal when you see the kind of clothes Rosé poses in. Everything she's got on is tight. The clothes she's wearing are tight, and that makes her curves stand out.

You're trying hard to hide the fact that you've got a hard-on, but of course you've got tight jeans on, which makes your dick stand out.

It would be a shame if anyone saw that. What would you look like?

But that's your body reacting like that. Rosé is beautiful and your dick thinks so too.

You do everything to hide it. You put your hands in front but it doesn't feel natural. You try to hide behind things but every time you're asked to leave. You can't sit down and cross your legs, the jeans are too tight.

You watch Rosé go off to change and you wait. But you think the Lord wanted to test you today.

A few minutes later Rosé emerges and your eyes widen. Rosé is dressed in a pink top, but it's the mini shorts that make your mouth drop open. More precisely, what's underneath the shorts.

Rosé spins around and you notice that her buttocks are sticking out of the shorts.

God, Rosé looks sexy in those. If she'd worn those just for you, you'd have fucked her so hard.

And that's when it's hard for you. Rosé carries on with her photo shoot as if nothing had happened, while you're having a hard time of it.

When Rosé leans forward a little and her buttocks stick out, you're forced to bite your fist. You reach a point where you look away.

When the photographer announces the end of the photo shoot, you almost cry.

Happily, Rosé comes over to you. Before you know it, it's just the two of you and Rose has reached your full height.

"Did you like it? "Rosé asks you innocently.

With a wave of your finger, you ask her to come forward. Rosé listens, but you can see she's wondering.

“Give me your hand. "

Rosé holds out her hand and you grab it. You can see she's lost. You put her hand on your cock and Rose's eyes widen.

"Does that answer your question? "

Reddened cheeks, you see Rosé flash a sexy smile. The young woman turns her back to you and what she's doing almost makes you moan.

Rosé leans forward, giving you a magnificent view of her ass. Rosé spreads her shorts with her hand and it's a good thing you've got self-control, otherwise you'd have fucked her right here.

However, you grab her hips and pull her to you. Rosé straightens up and you attack her neck with a kiss. You run your hands over and knead both her breasts. Rosé moans but you silence the moan by turning her face and kissing her. Rosé sticks her buttocks to your cock as you kiss her.

"I feel your cock against me.

"I want to fuck you. "

“Do it. Fuck me. "

You run your hand down to her shorts and trace the folds of her pussy.

"You're so fucking wet."

"Just for you. "

With your other hand you turn her face and kiss her while you insert a finger into her pussy. Rosé moans into your mouth and you feel her hand caress your cock through your jeans.

"If it were up to me, I'd have fucked you from the start of this photo shoot. “

Rosé grabs your face and deepens the kiss as you insert a second finger inside her. You accentuate the pleasure by kneading one of her breasts. Between your fingers you grab her nipple and pinch lightly. Rosé clings to you, seeking the friction between her ass and your cock.

"You're going to cum here and then we'll go to your dressing room and I'll fuck you in these shorts. "

Rosé wants to say something but you insert your fingers into his mouth. Rosé licks your fingers and you concentrate on fingering the singer's pussy.

Rosé tries to mumble something like "I'm going to come" but you don't care. You continue to pleasure her and after a few seconds your fingers are expelled from her vagina and Rosé lets out a hoarse moan. You grab her and carry her so she doesn't fall over from the orgasm and Rose puts her hands around your neck and trembles.

"Good girl. Kiss me."

Rosé raises her head and kisses you.

"Now let's go to your dressing room and I'll fuck you."

"Please. "Rosé says gently.

Still with Rosé in your arms, you walk towards the singer's dressing room. Rosé takes the opportunity to kiss your neck.

You open the door and gently put Rosé back down.

"Hands on the wall, I'm going to eat your pussy"

Rosé lets out a groan and moves into position. She places her hands on the wall and arches her back slightly, giving you a magnificent view.

You lick your lips and come up behind her. You glue your pelvis to her buttocks and Rosé immediately looks for friction.

With your hand, you knead her buttocks, which peek out from the shorts. You kiss Rosé on the neck and she turns to kiss you. You respond to her request and kiss her. Rosé inserts her tongue into your mouth and you accentuate the pressure on her buttocks with your hand. With your fingers, you pull her shorts apart and begin to touch her pussy. You stifle a moan from Rosé and insert a finger inside her.

After one last kiss, you kneel behind her. You push aside her shorts and the sight of her ass makes your mouth water.

Her pussy looks so good you waste no time and with your hands, you spread her buttocks and lick her pussy

"Fuck yes." Rosé swears.

With your tongue you trace the lines of her pussy. You lick her folds and hear Rosé moan. You flick Rosé's vagina with your tongue and Rosé flicks her pelvis to increase the pressure. With both hands you grab her bottom and insert your tongue into her pussy hole. Rosé has to catch herself on the wall, it's so good.

"I love it so much when you eat my pussy",

"Your pussy is so wet. "

You run your hand along the front and find Rosé's clitoris. Gently you put pressure on it and Rosé lets out a moan.

With your tongue in her pussy hole and her clit between your fingers, the young singer is just a mess.

You feast on her pussy. You don't stop. You have only one goal in mind: to make Rosé cum. Rosé is almost pressed up against the wall by the pressure you're putting on.

But it doesn't bother her, on the contrary, Rosé is so happy. When you withdraw into your tongue, Rosé wants to protest but her protest dies in her mouth when you insert two fingers into her pussy.

"Yes baby. Finger me."

You listen to your girlfriend and speed up the pace of your fingers and Rosé slams her head against the wall and spreads her ass.

"Can you lick my asshole while you finger me? "

You accede to your girlfriend's request and start licking her hole.

"I'm about to cum. "

Youfeel Rosé tremble and you stand up to catch her.

You press her against you and Rose trembles against your chest.

"What a good girl. "

Rosé turns to you and kisses you passionately. She grabs your face and slides her tongue into your mouth. With your hands, you knead her buttocks and Rosé lets out a moan into your mouth.

"Hands against the wall. I'm going to fuck you. "

After one last kiss, Rosé turns around and resumes the same position as before. You see that the young woman wants to take off her shorts but you stop her.

"Keep the shorts on. "

Rosé nods and you undo your belt and pants. Your erection is finally free.

With one of your hands, you spread the shorts and with your other hand you guide your cock to her pussy.

You tease Rosé. With your cock you trace the lines of her pussy.

" Baby don't tease me. Just fuck me. "

“You've been teasing me all afternoon. I'm entitled to a little fun, aren't I? "

You slide your cock between her thighs and Rosé moans at the contact.

"A Tightjob? " Rosé asks sensually.

"Why not. "

Rosé listens to you and starts going through the motions. The sensation is too good. You watch your cock disappear between Rosé's thighs.

You also feel her pussy juices against your cock

. "My cock is so wet. It looks like you're enjoying it just as much as I am. "

Rosé doesn't respond, she's far too focused on her task.

With your hands, you grab Rosé's hips and help her make the move.

Rosé's buttocks slap against you and you decide to kiss the young woman on the neck, causing her to moan.

"Put your cock inside me. "Begs Rosé.

"Why? I'm fine between your thighs." You answer slyly.

" Because I want you to fuck me against the wall like the slut I am in these shorts and then I want you to fill me with cum. "

You stop all movements and Rosé may have said something stupid. She wants to say something but you've just penetrated her and Rosé has to hold on to the wall so she doesn't fall.

You've entered her like an animal. Rosé's words have been like an aphrodisiac, and all you can think about right now is fucking Rosé.

And that's what you're doing. All you hear is the sound of flesh against flesh and Rosé's cries of pleasure.

Her hips in your hands, you pound the singer's ass.

"You fuck me so good…”

With one of your hands, you slap her ass, garnering a cry of pleasure from the singer.

"Fuck, I really am your bitch. I'm so addicted to your cock. "

Rosé lets out a little cry of surprise as you grab her and place her still on all fours, but this time in front of the mirrors.

With your hand, you grab her hair and force her to always straighten your cock inside her.

"Look at yourself in the mirror. Look how beautiful you are when you take my cock. "

Rosé looks at you both in the mirror and the sight is erotic. With your other hand, you pull out one of her breasts and Rosé moans at the sight.

"Look at your beautiful breasts."

You turn her on her side and tell her to look at the mirror. With this view Rosé sees you penetrate her.

"Look at that, Rosé. Look how easily my cock enters you. Your pussy was made for my cock. "

“I'm going to cum! "Said Rosé.

"Oh but I'm counting on it yes. You're going to cum on my cock and then I'm going to fill you up so much. "

Rosé, holding herself with one hand on the edge of the make-up plane, puts butt strokes in to deepen the penetration.

With one of your hands, you pull her hair and with the other hand, you slap her ass.

Stimulated in several places, Rosé cries out in pleasure and you feel her vaginal walls contract around your cock.

Rosé is taken by surprise when you lower your hand to her clitoris. You pinch it gently before starting to touch it.

It's only a matter of minutes before Rosé comes. And it happens faster than expected.

The pleasure is too much for Rosé and you feel your cock being ejected from her vagina. But it's not like usual, Rosé has just squirted.

It's the first time it's happened and Rosé can't get a word in edgewise. She alternates between moaning and nervous laughter.

"Wow." You reply.

"I...it ne..never..ha.. happened..before.." manages to articulate Rose.

"And it will happen later. "

Rosé turns her head towards you, but a wave of pleasure overtakes her. You penetrate her again and the singer lets out a moan.

"I'm still sensitive..."

"I know. "

You don't give Rosé time to respond and resume the same rhythm as before. You're not going to last long.

Rose's pussy is far too wet and it's only after several strokes that you pour yourself into her.

Rosé stands against the make-up table and you stand back, admiring your art.

Rosé is bent over the table, your cum pouring out of her pussy. You slap her ass, eliciting a small cry.

"If all photo shoots end up like this, I should come more often." You say.

"You SHOULD come to all my photo shoots from now on. "

With your hand you knead one of her buttocks.

"With pleasure. “

#kpop #kpop smut #smut #male reader #male reader smut #roseanne park #rosé smut #kpop blackpink #blackpink smut

309 notes · View notes

rene-darling · 15 hours ago

Text

CATCHING- feelings for his sneak link!

...At first this was just another way to relax, y'know let out some stress from the akademia..but it seems the cold wanderer has gone soft..gn!reader...credits[kiyoshue] on insta

...the wanderer...

Something isn't right, it doesn't feel right. It's not his first time, you're not taking his virginity or some shit, hell- this isn't even the first time you two fucked. But something about the mood, this fuck session was...off.

Your thrusts were deep and- slow, which- wasn't entirely unusual maybe you're tired? You sometimes go slower when you start- no. Fuck, it was a few hours into your fuck session and the entire time you went so deep!

You went fast when he whined for it you kept at a pace most pleasurable to him. Why? It- it wasn't like he was your boyfriend or some shit. You didn't need to be all sappy and slow, hah, did you lose your touch?

Why're you touching him like- like he's delicate. Soft and- like you- fuck who do you think he is? He's the wanderer he doesn't need to be treated softly, he can handle it. He can fuck. He won't break he can endure it, he- so why does he like it. All soft 'n shit.

"Have y-you gone soft on mhm- me." He finally built up the courage to confront you about your weird..behaviour

Bringing your hand up, you touch his face, his cheek. You didn't slap him even though he flinched as his face tightened in preparation for that. "You're the one, who's gone fkin soft." He's crying. globs of tears flowing down his numb face, fuck. Why's he crying?? You aren't going rough so he has no excuse. Shit. Maybe he has gotten soft on you.

He- he doesn't know what to say- or do- shit. Are you gonna stop? Leave him like this? He's pretty useless if he can't handle you, fuck who would've imagined him, of all people melting into your soft touches crying over some basic decency.

"I- uh mm..hic..I don't-..uh..mm hic-" shit what is he doing? Looking up at you, trying to formulate a sentence as his stream of tears turn into rivers, drool dripping down his lips, as his mouth opens and closes like some damn fish. Looking up at you with his glossed-over eyes, his body seems to pull away from you, trying to curl up into himself.

Since your...arrangement started, there were only two rules, no catching feelings, and- no kissing on the lips, made to protect the first rule. You've wanted to break it many times yet never had the guts to cross that line, yet, here you are. Lips pressed flush against his as he pulls you back into him, closer. This time curling into you rather than himself, arms around your shoulder and back as you break away, shock prevalent in those glazed eyes, and a gling of something else too.

"fuuuck, wanderer. Maybe- hah..maybe I am the one going soft after all."

187 notes · View notes

thewritingrowlet · 1 day ago

Text

The Blank Slate, ft. Kep1er Chaehyun

tags: creampie

length: 8k+

author's note: This one was inspired by an AI chat bot I stumbled upon.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for today; we will continue next time.”

The people in front of you have been exhausted from working all day, so the fact that you’ve called off the meeting is like music to their ears. “We will see you tomorrow morning, sir.” You shake your head. “I don’t know when I’ll get here tomorrow., Mr. Kim,” you say. You notice the way he lets out a sigh, seemingly in relief. “Of course, sir.”

People start leaving their seats one by one with their gadgets in their hands. “Oh, director,” Mr. Kim turns around again, “happy birthday to your wife.” You smile. “I will tell her that, Mr. Kim—thank you.” He looks sympathetic, and you’re thankful for his kindness. “Go home to your wife, Mr. Kim; tell her you love her with every cell in your body,” you say to him as he walks away. He smiles and nods. “Will do, sir.”

You find yourself walking through the quiet and cold hallway of the hospital to reach your wife’s room.

You gently open the door. “I’m home, love.”

It’s true. This hospital room has been your home for almost the entirety of the past year. This room where your wife is lying dormant, uncertain when she will ever wake up again, is your home and will continue to be for God knows how long.

You look at her vital sign monitor; her heart is still beating steadily, and her blood pressure is still at acceptable levels.

You take a seat on the chair next to her bed. “Good evening, sweetheart,” you place your hand on hers. “I’m sorry, a meeting held me back.” You hear no response from her, but you’ve gotten used to this already. “You’d like to hear about the meeting, wouldn’t you?” You stay quiet for a moment, pretending to wait for her answer. “Well, you see, Mr. Kim had some ideas he wanted to share with me and the managers, so we sat down and had a long discussion—if it wasn’t for you, my love, I’d still be at the office with them.”

You continue telling her about your day until your mouth gets tired of talking. “I’ll get us some food, love; wait for me, alright?” You leave your seat to get some food from the bag you were carrying; today’s menu is spicy noodles with chicken katsu.

You place her food on the counter next to her bed and open the other one for yourself. The first bite sends you high to the sky. “Oh, this is amazing; no wonder you like this place so much.” Your mouth that is already full of noodles doesn’t stop you from shoving more into it. “The chicken is so juicy too, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You finish your food in no time; you couldn’t have lunch today, so you’re very hungry tonight. “You liked that too, didn’t you, sweetie?” You leave your seat again to throw the empty container into the bin, and when you return—

Wait a minute.

Wait a damn minute.

Why are her eyes open?

“Hello?” Your wife’s eyes slowly move towards you. “Love? You’re awake?” Her eyebrows furrow. “Where… am I?” Your heart starts racing, excited by the fact that your wife has regained consciousness. “You’re at the hospital, love.” You quickly return to your chair. “You’ve been at the hospital for nearly a year now.”

“Who… are you?”

Your heart cracks—does she really not recognize her husband?

“I-I’m your husband.” The shock has you stuttering. “Do you, erm, do you not remember me?” She stays silent. “You’re my… husband?” You rush towards your bag to get some proof for her. “Look, love; I have some documents here.” Your wife squints as she tries to read the paper through the clear sheet protector. “Marriage… paper?”

Your wife places a finger on her name. “Who is that?”

Your heart shatters—has she lost her memories?

“T-that’s you, love; y-you’re Kim Chaehyun.”

Chaehyun looks at the paper blankly. “I-I don’t know,” she says. “I-I don’t remember anything.”

Feeling weak, you drop onto the floor. Your mind is still stuck with the fact that she doesn’t remember anything. “Oh, God, no.” Your voice becomes smaller, devastated by the revelation. “I-I’m sorry, but I-I don’t know what’s happening,” she says.

You mindlessly slam your head against the steel frame of her bed. “W-what are you doing?” Chaehyun yelps when you slam your head again. “P-please stop—w-what are you doing?” You sigh. “This is all my fault—oh, God, please forgive me.”

Chaehyun asks that you get on your feet, so you do just that. “Y-you said you’re my husband, right?” You nod weakly. “H-how long have we been married?” You sigh deeply. “A little over four years.”

“Then hug me, l-love.”

You bend down to hug her as she wishes, and the two of you break into tears. “I-I’m so sorry; I-I just don’t know.” You shake your head. “It’s okay; none of this is your fault.” You try pulling away from the embrace, but she doesn’t let you. “P-please, just stay with me,” she begs.

You haven’t heard her cry in months, but the sound hurts the same way it used to, if not worse. “L-love,” you hear her say. “A-are you angry—p-please don’t be angry.” “No, I’m not angry,” you assure her.

You ask her to let you go for a second because you want to call a doctor or a nurse over to check on your wife, and before long, a nurse walks through the door. “Good—oh my goodness,” the nurse exclaims. “She has woken up?” You nod. “She’s lost her memories, I think.” The nurse’s eyes widen. “Are you sure?” You point at your wife, gesturing to the nurse to see for herself.

“Mrs. Kim,” the nurse calls to your sobbing wife. “Do you know where you are?” Chaehyun starts crying again. “P-please stop asking questions; I-I can’t answer them.” You place a hand on your wife’s shoulder to help her stay calm. “Of course, Mrs. Kim—look, I’ll be checking your physical conditions right now, okay?”

While the nurse checks on your wife, you decide to head to the toilet to refresh and clear your mind a bit. When you return, the nurse happens to be stepping out of the room. “Be patient with her, mister,” she says. “I will try my best,” you reply.

Chaehyun is looking around the interior of her room—she hasn’t seen any of it since she got here. "Hi, love,” you make sure your voice is gentle, “did the nurse say anything?” She nods a little. “She, erm, she said my muscles have gotten weaker, but I’ll get better with therapy.”

You drag the chair over closer to her bed again after noticing that the nurse moved it earlier. “You said you didn’t want to answer questions, love, but can I tell you about some stuff?” She nods. “My name is Kim Jaehwan, and yours is Kim Chaehyun,” you start. “We used to work in the same company, but obviously not anymore.”

Chaehyun looks at you intently, eager to hear more about the previous life she had with you. “We got married a year after we had started dating, and erm, we bought a house together in our second year of marriage.” She nods. “What else?” You take a few deep breaths as you think about some interesting things she’d like to hear. “Erm, we actually planned to repaint the house before you got hurt; we had discussed about the colors and things like that.” Your wife asks what the current color of the house is. “Well, the bedroom is still light gray, and the kitchen is… I don’t know, coral?”

Your wife turns her attention to the full moon that’s visible through the window. “Can we go outside?” You know there’s a wheelchair in this room, so you suggest having her sit in it while you push her around. “One second, sweetheart.” You help your wife sit in the wheelchair and hang her IV bag on the little pole attached to it. “We’ll make a stop at the nurse’s desk first, love.”

After reporting to the nurses that you’ll be taking her outside, you push the wheelchair towards the escalator. Before long, you find yourself strolling through the hospital’s park while pushing your wheelchair-bound wife.

“It’s cold,” your wife says, so you put your jacket over her to shield her from the night air. “Thank you.” Chaehyun blushes a peck land on the top of her head. “Did we, erm, touch a lot?” You chuckle. “Physical touch is our love language,” you remind her.

You park her wheelchair next to a bench and then take a seat on it. “What are we thinking, sweetheart?” She takes a few deep breaths, getting some fresh air into her system after spending many months in a room. “It’s great out here,” she says.

You ask if she’d like to go home within the next few days. “What is home to you, erm, love?” Her cheeks get hot; it feels very odd and awkward for her to call someone by that name. “Home is wherever you and I are,” you answer. Chaehyun is intrigued. “Really?” You nod. “That room you’ve been occupying this past year is my home, simply because we’re in it together.”

Chaehyun takes your hand in hers. “I want to go home—like, our home.” It is such a simple sentence, but your heart is warm, nonetheless. “We will, sweetheart; we’ll see if we can leave this place tomorrow.” “Wait,” she says. “What about your work?” You chuckle. “Only you deserve my time and attention—besides, it’s not like anyone can fire the director.”

With your arm wrapped around her, you guide her towards the front door of the house. “Do you want to try unlocking that?” Her eyes are locked on the little fingerprint scanner underneath the handle. “Go on; place your thumb on it, sweetheart.” Chaehyun does as you say, and her eyes widen when the lock unlatches. “T-this is—” “I’m not lying to you about anything, love.”

You want to take her to the bedroom, and when you ask if she’s down for it, she looks hesitant. “W-what bedroom?” You point at the brown door that’s visible from the living room. “That’s our safest place, love.” She trembles in nervousness. “S-something doesn’t feel right.”

You’re stunned; is there a chance that she remembers that night, even if it’s minimal?

“Please follow me for now, love; I promise I’ll get you up to speed.” Your words make her feel more uneasy, but still, she follows your direction without asking twice. Once inside, you help her get on the bed and join her on it right away.

You ask if you can hug her from behind like you used to, and since she says yes, you wrap your arms around her. “Love, I’ll tell you about everything that happened that night, okay?”

You start from the beginning where you and she had a fiery argument in this very bedroom. Mean words were that were flying out of your lips were like daggers, stabbing her gentle heart. Again, and again, and again. In the heat of the moment, you also said you would’ve been okay if she had filed a divorce.

Devastated by your attitude, Chaehyun stormed out of the house. She was so focused on the fight that she didn’t notice the speeding sedan coming from her left when she was crossing the street. The car hit her hard, thus sending her flying a few meters away from the spot of the impact. Due to the crash, her body bounced and rolled around on the hard asphalt, and at some point, her head got injured, hence the loss of memory.

“Like I said, sweetheart, it’s all my fault.” Chaehyun turns around to face you. “It’s a sad story, isn’t it?” You nod. “I’m willing to pay whatever price just to return to that night.” The smile on her face is gentle. “It’s always easy to look back in anger or sadness, but what is there to be done—is this not a new start for us?”

You’re getting goosebumps. Chaehyun is showing glimpses of her past self: the wise and loving woman you fell so deeply in love with.

“Yes, we can indeed start again,” you say. Chaehyun places a hand on your cheek again. “Promise me that you’ll be patient with me, love; I’m going to need you by my side.” You feel a surge of determination within you to make very good use of this opportunity. “I’ve learned my lessons, and I swear I won’t make the same mistakes.”

Chaehyun ties the vow by kissing you, and truthfully, you’re both excited and startled to see her take the initiative. “Husband and wife kiss all the time, right?” You chuckle. “Maybe not all of them, but we sure did.”

It appears that Chaehyun has found her fondness for kissing again as she pulls you closer for another one. “I… love you.” You shed a tear involuntarily; if there’s one thing you’ve been longing for, it’s hearing her say those three words. “I love you more, love—thank you for coming back.”

You proceed to ask if she can describe what her long sleep felt like. “I don’t know,” she says. “I didn’t feel anything in particular.” You guess that people who are in a coma don’t have dreams like ordinary sleeping people do.

“What about you, love—what were you up to when I was asleep?” You sigh. “Just working, really; I’ve been working a lot as a way to keep my head above water.” Speaking of work, Chaehyun asks if she used to be a workaholic, and you chuckle. “In around 3 years of working together, you’ve only done one overtime.” She giggles. “That sounds about right.”

You panic when you notice that your wife isn’t lying in bed with you, and your first instinct is to sprint out of the bedroom, fighting through sleepiness and exhaustion. You let out a sigh of relief when you see her sitting on the sofa.

“Good morning, love,” you greet her. “Good morning to you too, hubby.” She never used such a name for you before, and the newness makes you giddy. You join her on the sofa, and out of habit, you rest your head on her thighs. “Erm, did we do this often?” You slap your forehead for forgetting. “We did, love—uh, I like your thighs a lot.” Chaehyun blushes. “Y-you shouldn’t say something so vulgar.”

You’re about to drift back to sleep when Chaehyun asks for your attention. “Do we have a morning routine?” “Well, yes,” you say. “We used to have tea together in the morning.” A small smile appears on her face. “Who likes tea?” You point at her. “Oh, really?” You chuckle. “I like tea because of you, love.”

With her safely seated at the dining table, you open the pantry. You grab some boxes from it and place them on the table, giving Chaehyun the chance to choose. “What was my favorite?” Your heart sinks as realization hits: her favorite lychee tea expired around two months ago. “It was lychee, but erm, I had to throw it out because it was going bad.” She smiles. “That’s alright—I’m sure I’ll learn to like other things.”

Today’s tea of choice is strawberry apple, and after taking a small sip, Chaehyun beams. “This is lovely,” she says. You smile. “I liked that tea because it was one of your favorites.” She scratches her head. “The more I listen to you, the more I get curious about my past.” You assure her that you don’t need her to remember (or even become) her old self; she’s still your wife whom you love the most, even if she ends up becoming a different person than before. “You’re sweet,” she praises you.

You ask if she wants to shower, but she declines—Chaehyun wants you to give her a tour of the house first. “We can finish at the bathroom,” she says.

You start from the front of the house because there’s a handful of thoughtful and well-planned details there. “You were quite… insistent about those flowers.” She giggles. “I mean, don’t you think they look pretty?” Chaehyun hops in front of the pots. “Which one is the flower, love?” You burst out laughing. “You’re no flower, love; you’re my light in this world.” Your wife’s grin is replaced by a blush. “Oh, you’re making me weak.”

The tour continues to the interior of the house. You point out to her which furniture was her choice and which was yours. “Whose idea it was to hang that painting there? “It wasn’t an idea, per se; it was a gift from your parents, so we had to put that somewhere.” Your wife asks where her parents are. “They passed away shortly after you had gone into coma.” Chaehyun promptly wraps her arms around you to seek comfort. “I’m sorry, love, but between you and them, there was nothing else I could’ve done.” She nods. “I’m sure you’ve done all you could.”

You ask if she still wants to continue considering the sudden change of mood. Chaehyun confirms that she does want to keep going, so you show her around the house, explaining the choice of details as you go. “It sounds like we put a lot into this house.” You nod. “We spent so much time planning and finding the stuff we wanted and needed.”

Just like you two agreed upon earlier, you’re ending the tour at the bathroom. “Last stop, love,” you say as you turn the handle. Chaehyun’s jaw drops when she sees the insides. “What the heck is all this?” You chuckle. “That bidet was your choice—everything else was mine,” you say. Chaehyun nudges you lightly with her elbow. “You’re pretty good at choosing things, aren’t you, love?”

Chaehyun takes a seat on the toilet which lid she has opened, and you take a knee in front of her. “We’ve been laughing a lot today, but life isn’t always so smooth, so please promise me that you’ll be patient and kind with me.” You take her hands in yours as you prepare to make your promise. “In every night I spent at the hospital with you, I wished I hadn’t broken your heart, so believe me when I say that I will work on becoming the man you deserved in the first place.”

Once again, the vow is tied with a kiss. “I love you, and I trust you,” she whispers. “I love you more, cookie.” Chaehyun giggles. “Cookie? Do I look edible?” Your mind directly goes to the old, dirty joke the two of you used to have about being edible, but you’re promptly reminded about the current situation. “I mean, you’re as sweet as a cookie,” you divert to a different answer.

You make to leave the bathroom so Chaehyun can take a shower, but before she lets you go, she asks if the two of you have ever taken a shower together in the past. “Of course, love; we’d always shower together after sex.” She breaks eye contact, trying to hide her red cheeks. “Ah, sex—of course we had sex.” You chuckle. “I mean, we’re legally-wed husband and wife”

Chaehyun needs to move her muscles to combat the muscle atrophy from her comatose, so you ask if she’s down to walk to get breakfast out. “Where will you take me, though?” You list a few breakfast spots the two of you have liked before, and she asks if you two can have breakfast at more than one spot. “Of course we can,” you say.

You help your wife get dressed, and since it’s quite cold today, you make sure she’s dressed comfortably. You can’t hide nor erase the smile on your face; it’s amazing to finally be able to see your wife in front of you again instead of lying in that hospital bed. “Erm, do I look weird?” You shake your head. “No, of course not—if anything, I think you look great.” Chaehyun blushes again, still not used to receiving praise. “Okay, I-I think we should go now.”

With her arm wrapped around yours, you begin making your way to the first spot (that is also the closest from the house) which Chaehyun used to love for their breakfast noodle soup. Instead of going straight at the intersection to head to the restaurant, you make a left turn. “I’m going to show you something first,” you say.

You drag Chaehyun into a small alley behind a convenience store, and you can tell she’s confused. “We had our first kiss in this alley,” you explain. She chuckles. “Why here, though—surely there were better places to have a first kiss in.” You laugh. “Sure, but you chose this place.” Chaehyun slaps her forehead while laughing. “I was so bad at thinking on the fly, wasn’t I?”

After the small tour, you get back on track and head to the noodle restaurant. The owner’s jaw drops when she sees you entering the place with Chaehyun. “She’s woken up?” You grin, unable to hide the joy on your face. “She sure has, Mrs. Oh.” Once again, Chaehyun is confused, but that doesn’t stop her from letting Mrs. Oh hug her. “Get anything you want—it’s on the house today.” It looks like Mrs. Oh is as happy as you are to have Chaehyun back. “Oh, please, that’s—” “No, I’m not taking arguments!”

Once seated, Chaehyun asks what kind of relationship the two of you had with the owner of the noodle place. “We used to have breakfast here at least twice a week.” You chuckle when you remember a particular detail. “We went here in the morning after we had our first sex,” you whisper to her. She slaps your shoulder lightly. “Can you please stop talking about sex?”

You haven’t ordered yet, but Mrs. Oh is already on her way with a tray of food in her hands. “You’re always down for the old favorite, aren’t you?” “Oh, absolutely,” you say. You help Mrs. Oh organize food on the table, and you notice the way Chaehyun’s eyes widen, seemingly intrigued by what’s in front of her. “Just holler if you need anything else,” Mrs. Oh says as she leaves your table.

“Whoa, what the heck is this?” Chaehyun looks at her bowl attentively. “They look good, don’t you think?” She nods. “I just know this is going to be so good,” she says. Your wife wastes little time to start digging into the noodles, and you swear you just hear a moan. “Oh, yeah, this is amazing,” she says.

It’s very heart-warming to see Chaehyun live life with such joyfulness after spending months seeing her stuck in a hospital bed. The thought alone is enough to make your eyes teary, and before you know it, a stray tear has flowed onto your cheek.

“Thank you for coming back, seriously,” you grip her free hand tightly, “you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” Despite being startled initially, Chaehyun puts down her utensils so she can hold your hands. “Let’s live each and every day like it’s our last, love—we don’t know how long we can love each other like this.”

Her words shatter whatever semblance of control you have left, thus making you shed more tears. You don’t want your tears to be seen by people, so you cover your face as you cry. Chaehyun moves her seat around the table and hugs you from the side. “You love me so much, don’t you, love?” You can only nod wordlessly. “I love you that much too, you know,” she adds.

“Is there any way I can look at the memories we’ve made together?”

“Nudle probably has backups of our pictures and things like that,” you guess.

Chaehyun asks if you know her passwords, and you happen to have a note on your phone which has a list of usernames and passwords. “I don’t know if you’ve changed your password, though.” She says that it’s still worth trying, so you lend her your laptop.

Nudle asks Chaehyun to enter the code it just sent to her number, but obviously she doesn’t have access to her old phone as it got destroyed during the crash. “Is there any other way to log in?” There is indeed another way, which is by having Nudle send a code to your email address that serves as a recovery email. “Yeah, do that," you say. A few taps here and there, and voila—Chaehyun now has access to her old Nudle account and the cloud services it offers.

“I want to look at our pictures,” she says. Chaehyun gasps when she sees the number of photos saved on Nudle Box. “Oh my God, there’s so many.” You laugh. “It was your idea to take pictures every time we did something fun.” She looks at you with a smirk. “I bet you’re thankful for that.” “Oh certainly,” you say. “Now we have a way to help you peek into the past.”

Chaehyun looks at each picture with a high level of attention, making odd head gestures as she does. “Is there something wrong?” She furrows her eyebrows. “It just feels so weird—there’s proof that I went there and did that, but I don’t remember anything.” You shrug. “That’s just amnesia, I suppose.”

You notice the way your wife’s eyes get teary as she scrolls through the pictures. “I-I’m so sorry,” she’s about to break down any time now, “I-I don’t remember any of this.” You wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer to you. “It’s not your fault at all, sweetheart; we’ve talked about this.” “B-but I want to remember,” she argues. “Look at us, love—we looked so happy, no?”

You take a deep breath.

The picture that is displayed on the screen right now was taken at some point during a vacation to Switzerland, and you had had an argument with Chaehyun a few days before you left for vacation.

“We did, sweetheart, but it’s never all smiles and giggles with us; we’ve gone through tough times too, you know—times that I dare to say I’m grateful you’ve forgotten.”

“And whose fault is that?”

You’re stupefied.

It used to be Chaehyun who always had things to say, but it has always been you who escalated the conflict into full-blown arguments instead of directlyaddressing the issue.

“It’s mine, love—I’ve always been the bad guy for you.”

Chaehyun looks at you with wet eyes. “I want to love you the same way my old self has loved you, but you can’t treat me the same way you’ve treated my old self.” “I will treat you better—cross my heart,” you say, hoping that she can feel the sincerity. “You better, because I’m not going to give you a third chance.”

Chaehyun leaves the sofa, thus leaving you stuck in silence by yourself. Your eyes are fixed on the picture shown on the screen of the laptop. In it, you and your wife stood facing each other while smiling as if the two of you hadn’t fought a few days prior.

A part of you wonders if that’s what being hypocritical means, but the more you think about it, the more you realize that it’s just Chaehyun being so forgiving of your mistakes and shortcomings while you were too happy to be forgiven without even apologizing first.

“Love,” her voice snaps you out of your trance, “have a sip, please.” You take a sip of tea from the cup as asked. “Thank you,” you blurt. Chaehyun wraps her arms around you from behind. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to trip you with guilt.” You shake your head. “It’s not guilt-tripping if I’m really guilty.” “But you understood me, right?” You nod. “Yes, I did.”

Satisfied with your answer, Chaehyun gives you a peck to the top of your head. “I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom.” You let your wife leave for the bedroom first while you sort yourself out. You think that this photo has a lot of meaning and lesson behind it, so before you turn off the laptop, you have it print the photo to be framed later.

You enter the bedroom with the printed photo in hand, and you see your wife sitting on the edge of the bed, her gaze aimed out the window. She then turns her head to look at you. “What’s that,” she asks. Chaehyun chuckles when she sees the photo. “What are you doing with that?” You tell her about your intention to frame it and place it on the bedside table, and she expresses her approval.

Chaehyun lies on her side and asks that you hug her from behind, so you do so right away.

“What were our dreams, love?”

“We wanted this marriage to be something upon which we build our ever-lasting happiness,” you answer.

“So, what have we done to make that come true?”

“Well, you’ve always been so patient with me all the time, and now I’ve realized that you must’ve felt like you were the only one trying to hold on to this relationship while I took your kindness for granted.”

You hear a deep exhale from her.

“I don’t know what my old self felt like, but I know for sure that this version of Kim Chaehyun doesn’t want to feel that way, so please, please don’t repeat whatever mistake you’ve made in the past.”

“I understand, love.”

You enter the house after another day of work.

Your nose is immediately overwhelmed by the heavenly smell while sizzling noises enter your ears.

Your wife appears from the kitchen with an apron covering the front of her body. “Welcome home,” she greets you. “Sorry, I haven’t finished yet; I miscalculated the time.” You assure her that she has nothing to be sorry for. “Thank you for taking the time, love—you didn’t have to, you know,” you say.

Chaehyun reveals that this afternoon, she dug through the house to find things she could use to rediscover herself. At one point during the search, she found her old recipe book, sitting tidily on one of the bookshelves. She asks whose writings were in the book, so you tell her that she was the one taking notes based on a lot of references, classifying recipes based on their difficulty levels and types. “I had someone make a website that will contain your recipes, but it’s not completed yet,” you add.

Chaehyun invites you to look at what she’s cooking. “I know this,” you say. “This is the ramen and grilled chicken on page 26.” She bursts out laughing. “You even remember the page number, huh?” You chuckle. “Eh, I only remember those that we mark with stars.”

Your wife looks confused. “Stars? What stars?” You grab the book from the counter and use page 4 as an example. “See this?” You place a finger on the star located on the bottom right. “Pages that are marked with this star are our favorites, and among them, we each have a top 3.”

Drool starts pooling in your mouth when Chaehyun lifts the cooked chicken from the grill. “Oh my God, look that that,” you exclaim. “I can already tell that’s going to be so tender and juicy.” Your wife cuts the chicken swiftly into strips after placing it on the cutting board. “Cooking must be ingrained in her DNA,” you think.

After a chain of skillful movements, the food is presented beautifully and ready to be eaten. “Help me put this on the table, please?” You organize the bowls accordingly while Chaehyun gets some other stuff sorted. She then quickly joins you at the table, sitting right across from you.

Chaehyun asks you to try the food first. The first thing you do is to get some broth in a spoon and take a sip. “Oh, my goodness,” you melt into the chair, “oh my God, this is amazing.” Chaehyun doesn’t believe you; she thinks you’re exaggerating to make her feel good about herself. “I mean, you’re free to try it yourself.” Chaehyun does the same thing you did, and she also melts into the chair like you did. “So, do you believe me now?” She nods vehemently, amazed by the result of her own work. “It’s super good,” she says.

The two of you barely speak, too busy devouring the food in front of you. Before you know it, you’re down to the last bite.

“Oh, God, that was so good.” Chaehyun laughs at you. “Must’ve felt so good after not having home-cooked meal in a year,” she quips. “Absolutely,” you say. “It’s great to have you with me again, and I don’t care if I sound like a broken record.” Her soft hand meets yours. “Remember what I said about chances, okay?” You know right away what she’s referring to. “Of course; I’ve burned your words into memory.”

You find yourself lying in bed with your wife after dinner, spooning her from behind like usual. You’re reminded about something. “I’m super late, but happy birthday,” you say. “When is my birthday?” “The 26th of April, which also happened to be the day you woke up from coma.”

She turns around to face you. "What did we do on our birthdays, love?” You take a deep breath first. “We usually celebrate by having sex,” you say. Chaehyun doesn’t believe you, saying that you’re just horny after the special dinner. “I mean, I have proof.” She chuckles. “Of course you do.”

You show Chaehyun some pictures on your phone that are secured behind biometric locks. Her jaw drops; there’s a picture of her with your shaft between her lips taken two years ago, precisely on the 26th of April. Not only that, but there’s also a video, taken on the 5th of January (your birthday), that shows Chaehyun taking you in the ass from behind.

“See, I’m not lying,” you say. Her eyes are still locked on the screen. “We’ve done… anal?” Just remembering what happened that night arouses you. “Erm, yes, this was our first time trying it.” A mix of a sigh and a laugh flies out of her lips. “There’s no hole you’ve never used, huh?”

Chaehyun moves to sit on your lap. “So, are we doing it, or?” You gulp. “Do you want to?” She giggles. “It’s tradition, is it not—besides, you haven’t touched me at all since I came home.” Before you can say anything else, your wife undoes her hair bun, thus making you breathless. “Let’s do it, my dear husband.”

Your wife bends down to kiss you. “Her lips still taste the same,” you think. You’re delighted to see that Chaehyun doesn’t try pulling away from the kiss like she often did. “Did you miss me, by any chance?” She giggles. “Of course I did; you’re my husband—I can’t speak for other women, but I like my husband’s company.”

With her feelings about you confirmed, you pull her into another kiss. “Mm,” she mumbles. “I hope you kept yourself… clean while I was asleep.” You’re almost offended; you didn’t even dare touch yourself, let alone have another woman touch you. “Absolutely; only you are allowed to touch me,” you assure her.

A mysterious frown appears on her face.

“Then who the fuck is Choi Yujin?”

You almost burst out laughing; Choi Yujin is your sister-in-law, and if you remember correctly, she called you a few weeks ago to tell you about her and your brother’s plan to go on vacation. Also, it’s worth noting that Yujin has no reason to seek sexual pleasure from anyone but her husband.

“I really hope you’re not lying,” she says. You shake your head. “You can either take my words, or we can look at some pictures again.” She chuckles. “Just how many pictures do you have saved, love, hm?” You laugh a little. “Almost enough to tell our entire story.”

Chaehyun then tugs at the waistband of your shorts. “I want to look at you,” she says. “Feel free to strip me.” With your permission, your wife pushes your shorts down all the way, tossing them onto the floor after. She gulps when she sees the print of your shaft on your boxers. “And you took my innocence with this?” You nod. “We were each other’s first.”

Chaehyun decides that only looking at the outline of your cock isn’t enough; she wants to see the whole thing in its full glory. Your cock springs into stiffness, and she immediately takes it in her hands (because one hand just isn’t enough).

“Goodness me,” she exclaims as she begins stroking you. “I must’ve screamed a lot when you took my virginity.” You chuckle a little at the memory from that night. “Let’s just say the neighbors weren’t happy about the noises,” you say. “I bet they weren’t.”

Chaehyun moves around until her entrance is hovering closely over the tip of your shaft. “May I?” You nod, and with your green light, she lowers herself onto you. “Oh, God, you’re tearing me apart.” You wonder if it’s purely a coincidence that she says the same thing she did that night. “Thank you for the genes, dad.” Your small joke makes her let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, thank him for the genes.”

Chaehyun starts grinding her crotch against yours, moaning freely as she gets reacquainted with your size. She keeps taking deep breaths every now and then, showing signs of being overwhelmed. “Are you okay?” She nods weakly. “J-just lack of practice,” she says. Chaehyun jokes that you should’ve had sex with her during her coma so that her vaginal muscles didn’t forget you. “Yeah, well, they would’ve sent me to prison without bothering to make a stop at the court.”

Having felt comfortable after a few minutes, Chaehyun begins moving her hips slowly up and down along your length. “Take it easy, baby; there’s no need to rush.” She nods to your reminder, but you can see in her eyes that she wants to go fast sooner than later—the same look of passion from her previous life.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Those four words turn out to be the spark she needs to ignite the fire in her heart: she’s now moving faster and in turn, moaning louder than before. “You’re amazing at this, aren’t you?” She can’t say anything back; your cock that’s lodged in her tight lips is overwhelming her brain.

Exhaustion leads her to plopping down onto your torso, and you do your best to whisper affirmations and sweet nothings while she’s close to you. “I-I love you too,” she whispers back. “H-how many times have we done this?”

You do the calculation in your head: your regular sex schedule was twice—sometimes thrice—a week. Take that number and multiply by the number of years you’ve been married (minus a year because of her comatose) and add the extra celebratory sessions, it totals almost 500.

“You’ve stretched me agape 500 times, huh?” You laugh. “Ah, also, that number doesn’t include the anal and other naughty sessions.” She slaps you on the chest. “I got it the first time; you’ve used all my holes.” You pinch her waist lightly. “I don’t like the word use; everything we did was with our mutual consent.”

Chaehyun lifts her head to look at you. “I want to feel you in my anus again—I consent, so don’t worry.” Your eyebrows furrow. “We’re going all the way this quickly?” She pauses momentarily. “Well, I… don’t know.” You rub her cheek softly. “We have plenty of time, my love—there’s no need to have all the fun right now.”

After the short pause, Chaehyun expresses her desire to start again but says that she’s too tired to ride you to completion. “Let’s do it the old-fashioned way,” you say. You roll over until you’re on top of her, resting your chest on her plump breasts. “I won’t lie, I miss these.” You squeeze her tits, thus earning some soft moans from her. “I-I can tell,” she replies.

You ask for her permission to put your mouth on her tits. “Go on, then,” she urges you. Chaehyun gasps when your lips meet her breast, going as far as arching her back. “Yes, daddy.” The shock puts you to a sudden halt—surely not, right? “What’s that?” Her cheeks are painted red. “D-daddy,” she repeats shyly. “How did you… when did you… what?”

Chaehyun hides her red-as-tomato face behind her palms. She then proceeds to explain (while stuttering) that she found a little diary which had a brown leather cover in a drawer in the wardrobe. “Brown?” Your mind scrambles to figure out what diary she’s referring to. “Wait, what did the cover say?” “Erm, it said sex-capades.” Your suspicion is confirmed; she found the old sex diary the two of you used to maintain.

You chuckle. “How much of it did you read?” “N-not much, j-just a few pages.” You softly guide her palms off her face. “We’ve always been so into each other, sexually speaking.” She still can’t look at you in the eyes. “S-some of the entries sounded like porn, though.” You laugh. “Like the daddy kink?” She nods. “What if I told you that it was your idea, love, hm?” Her blush thickens. “T-then I must’ve been very… naughty.”

You turn your focus back on the intimacy of vanilla sex, moving your hips back and forth slowly to fully enjoy the way her tight walls are hugging your shaft. “My love,” she calls to you breathily. “You’re so good—you make me feel so good.” You’ve missed this type of affirmation from your wife. “You’re also making me feel so good, baby,” you return her words.

You straighten your posture as you prepare to pick up the pace, but before you start, “Love, we’re going to finish this soon, if that’s okay with you.” She nods, saying that she’s also not too far off from her own finish line. “Make me scream your name,” she adds.

Chaehyun’s eyes widen when she sees you put her ankles on your shoulders. “Y-you’re going to ruin me, aren’t you?” You smile. “Something like that.” She gulps to swallow the nervousness that’s stuck in her throat. “I-I surrender myself to you, my love,” she declares. “Just… don’t hurt me too much, please.”

You opt to start slowly at first and then gradually pick up the pace as you go while keeping an eye on your wife’s reactions. You indeed don’t want to put too much pressure on your wife. “So far so good, right?” She nods. “I-I’m going to be so sore.” You chuckle. “Well, the good thing is, you don’t need to leave the house.”

When you reach maximum pace, Chaehyun’s moans get louder. The high level of stimulation has her gripping and scratching the sheets as she’s getting overwhelmed by you. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You’ve missed hearing her curse during sex. Not only are you delighted with it, but you’re also proud of yourself because you’re still able to perform well in bed.

“Close, darling?” You weren’t looking at her face when you said it, and now that you do, you see that she’s not able to answer: her teary eyes are rolling backwards, and her mouth is stuck open (with drool dripping down the corners of her lips).

“Love, are you okay?” You pause for a moment to check on her. She weakly lifts a hand and shows you a thumbs-up. “Too much?” Chaehyun nods weakly. “F-finish it, please,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

You return to your previous pace, only this time, you’re paying more attention to your wife. “Not too long now, sweetie,” you announce as orgasm approaches. When your cock starts throbbing wildly, you stick it as deep as you can into her and just… let go.

“Oh, God, baby,” you blurt breathlessly. You then quickly pull out your cock, not caring whether it leaks onto the bed, and pull her into your arms. “God, I’m so sorry, love.” She grunts a little. “I-it’s okay—I-I’m just… tired.”

You keep her in a cuddle for minutes until she regains a bit of strength. “H-have we always been this crazy?” You sigh. “Not all the time, no; it’s just that I’ve missed us so much.” A small smile appears on her face. “I-I suppose that’s fair, then.”

You lower your wife carefully into the bathtub that’s partially filled with warm water. With her leaning against yours, you help her clean up the front part of her body, making sure your touch is gentle throughout the process.

“Love, can you say anything, please,” you inquire. You hear a deep sigh from her. “I’m sore,” she says. “I feel like there’s a hole between my legs.” You apologize for being too rough on her first sex after her return, and she accepts it.

“You said you didn’t even touch yourself?”

“No, I didn’t; I felt like that would equal to betraying you.”

Chaehyun chuckles. “Well, I suppose that’s fair, then.”

Chaehyun proceeds to ask about the diaries she found this afternoon. “Love, who is Lee Jungwon—I saw that name a few times.” You sigh. “It was only a matter of time until you ask about him.” Your response leaves Chaehyun puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Lee Jungwon was the man your father wanted you to marry, but obviously, you ended up with me.” Chaehyun’s forehead furrows in confusion. “No offense to you, love, but why didn’t I marry him?” You sigh again. “He, erm—well, let’s just say he had done some less-manly things to you.” She starts getting nervous. “Like what?”

You close your eyes as you prepare an answer for her, taking a few deep breaths as you judge whether you should make it light or not. Eventually, you decide that it’s likely best that she hears about everything.

“Love, you didn’t exactly lose your innocence to me; you had lost it a year prior to Lee Jungwon—he, erm, he had forced himself onto you.” Chaehyun is stunned. “How did that happen, though?" You try to stay composed in front of her. “He had tricked you into going out with him, and when you were drunk, he, erm, did that.”

Your wife bursts into tears, and you’re starting to regret answering the question this way. You guess that explaining further will only hurt her more, so you choose to stay quiet for now. You’re not just sitting there, though; your hand is still rubbing her belly gently to help her calm down.

You let Chaehyun cry to her heart’s content, but it doesn’t seem like she will stop so soon. “He’s been in prison for a few years now—I hope that makes you feel better.” She shakes her head. She says that she’s more concerned about losing her first to a man like that instead of you, her legally wed husband.

Her words force yet another sigh out of you. “Your father was adamant that we got married so that no one else would’ve known about your predicament.” The water in the tub splashes around as Chaehyun turns around to face you. “But you didn’t marry me out of pity, did you?” “No, absolutely not—I love you, you know,” you assure her. “I had been keeping a secret crush on you, and when your father told me about the change of plan, I was over the moon.” “Y-you—” A sniffle interrupts her. “Y-you had other options and still chose me?” You tell her that you had no one else; for you, it was Kim Chaehyun or live alone until you die.

Chaehyun crashes into your body for a hug.

“I-I’m so sorry, my love.”

“No, love, it wasn’t your fault at all.”

“B-but—”

You cut her off by kissing her.

“Not your fault, love,” you repeat. “None of this was your fault.”

You’re now back in bed after that eventful shower, spooning her from behind like usual.

“My love,” she calls to you, “can we burn those diaries?” It sounds like a decent idea, but at the same time, Chaehyun won’t be able to look at the history of your relationship. “I don’t care about the past,” she says. “I’m offering you my future—a blank slate, if you will.”

You ask if she wants to burn down the brown sex diary as well. “Well, no,” she chuckles, “I need that one for… research.” You chuckle as you try to not get aroused again. “Alright, I guess we can get rid of the rest, then.”

Chaehyun turns around to face you. “Speaking of the sex diary, can we try something next time?” Your eyebrows rise. “Can I get a spoiler?” She taps her chin as if seriously considering giving you a sneak peek. “I’ll just say I got it from page 5.” You don’t remember the content of this diary as you do the recipe book, but when you ask further, her cheeks turn deep red. “Yeah, okay, then; I’m down to do whatever it is.” Chaehyun gives you a fleeting kiss before turning around again.

“We’ll have a lot of fun, I promise.”

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut

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tsunaso · 3 days ago

Text

"WHAT A PRIVILEGE IT IS TO SERVE"

pairing. Slave!Suguru Geto x Top!Curse user!male reader

synopsis. m/n is involved in human trafficking, and suguru falls into his hands. — 2.1k

warnings. mdni, nsfw, amab reader, dead dove, dubcon, human trafficking, slavery, physical restraint, manipulation, exploitation, dark themes, power imbalance.

The auction floor reeked of desperation and fear. Beneath the glamour and riches of bidders, soft sobs and whispered prayers filled the air, a background noise no one paid attention to.

Suguru Geto sat in silence, his long black hair hanging in tangled strands over his face. His hands were cuffed in front of him, his thin wrists rubbed raw by cold steel.

He was no stranger to this process. The handlers would parade him around, push his face toward the crowd, and croon about his “unique” talents.

They’d remind the buyers of how rare he was—"One of the few sorcerers in captivity,” they’d say. “A handsome one, too. Imagine the possibilities!”

He bit the inside of his cheek as he stood, forcing himself to stay still as rough hands grabbed his chin, tilting his face toward the light.

He caught glimpses of the bidders—men and women seated in shadows, their faces obscured by masks or veils. He’d learned long ago not to meet their gazes. It only made things worse.

“Fifty million,” someone called from the crowd.

“Sixty,” another countered.

The numbers climbed higher. Suguru’s stomach churned, but his expression remained blank. The money didn’t matter to him. It never had. No amount of wealth could change the fact that his life was no longer his own.

Then a voice cut through the din, smooth and commanding, “One hundred million.”

The room fell silent. Suguru’s head lifted ever so slightly, his dark eyes narrowing as he tried to find the source. A figure stood near the back of the room, dressed in sleek black.

You didn’t bother hiding your face like the others. Why would you? The confidence in your posture, the weight of your gaze, made it clear you had no reason to fear anyone here.

The auctioneer hesitated for a moment, then slammed the gavel down with finality. “Sold!”

Suguru’s shoulders stiffened. His fate had been sealed once again.

　　　　　　　　　୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

You didn’t speak to him until you were alone.

The holding cell where he’d been delivered was cleaner than most—if only marginally. A single cot, a sink, and a mirror bolted to the wall were all it offered. Suguru sat on the cot, his hands still bound, as he listened to your measured footsteps approach.

The door creaked open, and you stepped inside, shutting it firmly behind you. You took a moment to survey him, your sharp gaze sweeping over his thin frame and dirt-streaked face.

“You’re skinnier than I expected,” you said at last, your tone almost conversational.

Suguru didn’t respond. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor.

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” you continued, crouching in front of him. Your voice softened, but there was an edge to it—a predator’s patience. “But you’re not broken. Not yet.”

His jaw tightened.

You reached out, and for a moment, he thought you were going to strike him. Instead, your fingers brushed his chin, tilting his face upward until his eyes met yours.

“Do you know why I bought you?” you asked.

When he didn’t answer, your grip tightened, your thumb pressing against his jaw. “Answer me.”

“…Because you can,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

You smiled faintly, though there was no kindness in it. “That’s part of it. But the real reason is your potential. You’re not like the others. You’re… special.”

Something in your tone made his stomach twist.

“I’ve seen what you can do,” you continued, releasing him and standing to your full height. “Swallowing curses? That’s quite the party trick. Dangerous, too, if you don’t know what you’re doing. But don’t worry—I’ll teach you. I’ll show you how to control it.”

He frowned, his brows furrowing. “Why? What do you want from me?”

You chuckled, the sound low and rich. “You’ll see soon enough. But for now…” You reached into your pocket, pulling out a key. “Let’s get those cuffs off.”

The sudden gesture of “kindness” threw him off guard. He flinched slightly as you stepped closer, but you only unlocked the cuffs, letting them fall to the floor with a heavy clink.

“There,” you said, stepping back. “Better, isn’t it?”

Suguru rubbed his wrists, his gaze wary. He didn’t trust you—he couldn’t. But for the first time in years, he felt the faintest flicker of… something. Not hope, exactly. More like curiosity.

　　　　　　　　　୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Over the next few months, Suguru learned to navigate the strange, suffocating dynamic the two of them shared created. You were cruel but patient, demanding but generous. You pushed him hard, forcing him to confront the creatures that haunted him, but you also gave him food, clothing, and a bed that didn’t smell like rot.

At first, he fought you—quietly, subtly, but it was resistance all the same. He avoided your gaze, answered your commands with silence, and clung to the scraps of defiance he had left. But you were patient. You didn’t need to break him quickly.

One night, after a gruelling session, you found him sitting in the training room, his back against the wall, his head tilted back as he stared at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his dark hair sticking to his sweat-damp skin.

“You’re improving,” you said, stepping into the room.

He didn’t look at you, but you saw the tension in his shoulders.

“You’ve come a long way,” you continued, crouching in front of him. “But you’re still holding back.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” you interrupted, your voice firm. “You’re afraid of your own power. Afraid of what it means.”

You reached out, your hand settling on his shoulder. He stiffened beneath your touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“But that’s why you have me,” you said softly, your thumb brushing against his collarbone. “To guide you. To take care of you.”

His breath hitched, and you didn’t miss the way his body leaned ever so slightly toward yours, like a moth drawn to a flame.

“You don’t have to be afraid, Suguru,” you murmured, your voice low and steady. “Not with me.”

For a moment, he let himself believe you.

　　　　　　　　　୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The tension between you came to a head one evening as you sat together in your private quarters. The room was warm, the fire casting flickering shadows on the walls. Suguru sat cross-legged on the floor, his hands resting on his knees, his posture stiff but his gaze distant.

You watched him for a long moment before speaking. “Do you know why I haven’t sold you yet?”

He blinked, startled by the question.

You leaned forward, your elbows resting on your knees. “Because I see something in you. Something no one else ever has.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face.

“You think you’re weak,” you continued, your voice softening. “But you’re not. You’re strong, Suguru. Stronger than you realize.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening.

You stood and crossed the room, kneeling in front of him. Your fingers tilted his chin upward, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You’ve given me everything except one thing,” you said, your tone laced with quiet command. “Your trust.”

“I…” His voice faltered, his throat dry.

“Do you trust me, Suguru?” you asked, your thumb brushing against his jaw.

His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. He wanted to say no, to push you away, but the words wouldn’t come.

You smiled faintly, your hand sliding down to rest against his chest. “Good boy,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his.

His breath hitched, his body betraying him as he leaned into your touch, his resolve crumbling under the weight of your presence.

And when your lips met his, he didn’t pull away.

For a moment, he lets himself sink into the sensation of your lips pressed up against his. But that feeling is fragile and fleeting, cracked the moment your hand slid lower, resting just above his waist. Suguru’s breathing faltered, his dark eyes snapping to yours, wide and uncertain.

“What are you—”

“You’ve come so far, Suguru,” you murmured, cutting him off as your thumb brushed the sensitive curve of his hipbone. “But there’s still more I need to take from you.”

His chest tightened, his pulse pounding in his ears. “You—”

“Shh,” you whispered, your voice soft but commanding, your other hand pressing firmly against his shoulder to hold him in place. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

Suguru’s fingers twitched against the floor, his body stiff beneath your touch. He wanted to resist, to push you away, but his limbs felt heavy, sluggish.

You’d spent months unravelling his defences, picking apart the walls he’d built to protect himself, and now, in this moment, he realized he had nothing left to fight with.

Your lips brushed against the corner of his mouth, a teasing, fleeting touch that made him shiver. “You’re mine, Suguru,” you said, your breath warm against his skin. “Every inch of you belongs to me. Say it.”

He shook his head weakly, his jaw clenching in defiance. But when your hand slipped beneath his shirt, your fingers splaying across the hard planes of his stomach and the softness of his plush chest, he couldn’t suppress the quiet gasp that escaped him.

“Say it,” you repeated, your tone sharper now, your grip firm as you pulled him closer.

“I’m…” His voice cracked, his throat dry as shame and reluctant desire churned in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to meet your gaze as the words slipped from his lips in a broken whisper. “I’m yours.”

The smirk that curved your lips was triumphant, your hand trailing higher to press against his racing heart. “Good boy,” you murmured, the praise dripping with satisfaction. “You’re finally starting to understand.”

He let out a shuddering breath, his head tilting back against the wall as you leaned over him, your weight pressing him into the hard floor. His body was tense, his fingers curling into fists at his sides, but he didn’t pull away as your lips found his neck.

You kissed him softly at first, your mouth warm and insistent as it moved along his skin. But when your teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below his ear, he couldn’t stop the quiet sound that escaped him—a low, shaky moan that made your grin widen.

“That’s it,” you murmured, your hands sliding lower to hook into the waistband of his pants. “No more fighting. No more pretending. Just let me have you.”

His breath hitched as you tugged the fabric down, the cool air brushing against his flushed cock. He bit his lip, his face burning with shame as you pressed closer, your hands mapping every inch of his trembling body.

“You’re beautiful like this,” you said softly, your tone laced with both affection and possession. “Completely mine. Doesn’t it feel good to give in?”

Suguru didn’t answer, his breath hitching as your hand wrapped around his embarrassingly hard cock, your touch firm and deliberate. His body betrayed him completely now, his hips jerking into your hand as his resolve crumbled.

“Look at me,” you commanded, your voice sharp enough to cut through the haze clouding his mind.

He hesitated, his eyes flickering with defiance even as his body obeyed, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“There you are,” you murmured, your smirk softening into something almost gentle. “Good boy.”

Your praise sent a shiver down his spine, his body trembling beneath your touch as you stroked him with practiced ease. His breaths came in short, uneven bursts, his head falling back against the floor as heat coiled low in his stomach.

“You’re perfect like this,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his in a teasing, fleeting kiss. “So sweet. So obedient. And all mine.”

He wanted to hate you. He wanted to hate himself. But as your hand moved faster, pulling him closer to the edge, he couldn’t think about anything else—couldn’t feel anything but the urge to cum into your warm sticky hand, the weight of your gaze pressing down on him until he couldn’t breathe.

When he finally broke, his release spilling over your hand in hot, shuddering waves, you caught his gasp with your mouth, swallowing the sound as you kissed him deeply. His body sagged beneath you, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as the tension bled from his limbs.

You pulled back slightly, your lips curved in a satisfied smile as you brushed a strand of hair from his sweat-damp face. “What a privilege it is to serve, isn’t it?”

Suguru’s eyes fluttered shut, his body trembling as he let your words wash over him, too exhausted—too defeated—to respond.

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