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elikajinnie · 22 hours ago

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hii! hope ur doing good I have some ideas in mind hear me out demon sunghoon where he fell in love with reader and tries to protect and keep an eye on her and sunghoon tries to disguise himself as a human to get closer to her will do anything to protect her and love her, buttt what if reader discover’s his true identity. It could be incubus sunghoon BUT ITS UR CHOICE, Hope ur doing good :333

The Incubus's Touch - P.S

a/n: i hope you like it <33

P: Incubus!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader (Recommended age 18+)

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Obsession, Teasing, Possession, Seduction, Hurt/Comfort, Temptation, Stalking, Suggestive Content, Mature Content.

Wordcount: 10.2k

Synopsis: Working at the old campus library was fun—except for one rule: never enter the basement. Yet, one day, you found yourself there, holding an ancient book. You read a few words, and now strange things are happening, and a mysterious new student won’t leave you alone. Who—or what—did you awaken?

a/n: i got some inspiration from a new book im reading called The Devil Makes Three by Tori Bovalino - i would recommend it if you can handle slowburn.

now playing: woo by rihanna | sins (let me in) by kanii | temptation by ashley sienna | dont mess with my mind by emo

reblogs and commentary are welcomed <3

When you first decided to get a job close to campus, you weren’t expecting much. In fact, you didn’t have many choices at all. Most of the cafes and shops near the university had already filled their rosters for the semester, and every rejection you received only added to the growing knot of anxiety in your chest. As the weeks passed, you found yourself growing desperate, spending late nights scrolling through job postings that seemed to disappear before you could even send in an application.

It wasn’t until one quiet afternoon in the campus library that your salvation arrived.

The campus library had always been your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and filled with the smell of old books. It wasn’t unusual for you to spend hours tucked into one of the corners, surrounded by towering shelves of books and the gentle hum of the air conditioning. The librarian, Mrs. Choi, had gotten used to seeing you there almost every day, to the point where she’d started greeting you by name when you walked through the doors.

That day, she had approached your table while you were hunched over your laptop, your screen open to yet another fruitless job search.

“Still looking?” she’d asked, her voice soft but knowing.

You’d sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah. It’s been… rough.”

She’d nodded thoughtfully, her gaze drifting toward the stacks of books waiting to be shelved. Then, after a moment, she’d said, “How would you feel about working here? As my assistant?”

You’d blinked, thinking you must have misheard her. “Wait, really?”

“Really,” she’d said, smiling faintly. “It’s nothing glamorous, but we could use an extra set of hands. And you seem like the kind of person who’d do well here.”

You didn’t need to think twice. You’d eagerly accepted the offer on the spot.

The job, as it turned out, was exactly what you’d needed. Sorting out books, erasing stray pencil marks and doodles from pages, sitting behind the counter to check books in and out, cleaning shelves, making sure the computers were turned off at the end of the day—it was simple work.

You quickly fell into a routine. Most days, you worked quietly alongside Mrs. Choi, who was as patient and kind. Other times, you found yourself alone.

There were small challenges, of course— like figuring out the library catalog system, dealing with students who were less than gentle with the books, chasing down overdue returns—but they were minor in the grand scheme of things.

It wasn’t the job you’d imagined yourself doing, but it turned out to be exactly what you needed.

But there was one simple rule she had given you: never enter the basement alone.

At first, you thought it was strange. The basement was just a storage space, wasn’t it? A place to keep old supplies, forgotten books, and maybe some outdated equipment. Why would it matter if you were alone or not?

You got your answer the first time Mrs. Choi took you down there.

It had been a quiet afternoon, with only a few students milling around the library. Mrs. Choi had handed you a list of supplies needed to repair a torn book—a delicate process that required some old tools and adhesives she kept locked away downstairs. She led you to a small, unassuming door at the far corner of the library, almost hidden behind one of the towering shelves.

The moment the door creaked open, the atmosphere changed.

The air was heavier, colder. A faint smell of mold hit your nose immediately, mixed with something metallic that made you wrinkle your nose. The single light bulb at the top of the stairs flickered, casting shadows that danced along the narrow stairwell. You hesitated, but Mrs. Choi gave you a reassuring look and motioned for you to follow.

“I know it’s not exactly inviting,” she said with a small smile, descending the stairs, “but the supplies we need are down here. Just stick close to me.”

You nodded and followed her, but the deeper you went, the more uneasy you felt. The basement wasn’t just dark—it was suffocatingly so. The walls were lined with shelves cluttered with dust-covered boxes, forgotten stacks of books, and unidentifiable objects. The floor beneath your feet was uneven, cracked concrete, and your steps echoed in the silence.

And then there were the hallways.

You hadn’t expected the basement to be so sprawling. Hallways branched off in seemingly every direction, twisting and turning into darkness. Some of them were so narrow you’d have to walk sideways to squeeze through. Others disappeared entirely into shadows, the overhead lights either burned out or nonexistent.

“This library is older than the campus itself,” Mrs. Choi explained as she rummaged through a shelf near the end of one of the hallways. “The basement used to be part of an old archive building before the university bought the property. They’ve renovated the library a dozen times over the years, but the basement? Well…” She trailed off, gesturing to the decaying walls around you.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” you muttered, wrinkling your nose at the sight of a particularly large spiderweb on the wall.

Mrs. Choi chuckled softly. “Exactly. What the students can’t see won’t hurt them—or so the administration likes to think. Just be glad you don’t have to come down here often.”

You nodded, but your eyes kept drifting to the dark hallways. There was something… off about them.

“Mrs. Choi?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Hmm?” she replied without looking up.

“Why don’t you want me coming down here alone?”

She paused, her hands stilling on the box she’d been searching through. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, and you felt a chill crawl up your spine. When she finally spoke, her tone was casual—too casual.

“It’s easy to get lost,” she said, turning to you with a faint smile. “The layout down here doesn’t make much sense, and it’s not exactly safe to wander around in the dark. The last thing I want is for you to trip and hurt yourself.”

Her explanation made sense, but the way she avoided your gaze left you unconvinced. Still, you didn’t press the issue. You helped her carry the supplies back upstairs, relieved to step back into the library.

After that, you made a point to follow her rule. The basement was creepy enough with someone else—there was no way you were going down there alone.

At least, not until the night you had no choice.

It happened a few weeks later, after a long shift that had stretched past closing time. Mrs. Choi had gone home early, trusting you to lock up on your own. Most of the evening had just been returning books to their shelves, tidying up the counter, shutting down the computers—but just as you were about to leave, you noticed a small stack of books on the repair desk.

You froze, staring at them. Mrs. Choi had asked you to fix those earlier in the week, but you’d completely forgotten. The supplies you needed were downstairs—in the basement.

You hesitated, debating whether you could just leave it for tomorrow, but you knew Mrs. Choi was counting on you. Sighing, you grabbed a flashlight from the front desk and made your way to the basement door.

You hesitated at the door, keys in hand, as a quiet, uneasy thought crossed your mind: Just leave it for tomorrow. But Mrs. Choi... She was counting on you. The supplies were just downstairs. It’d take five minutes at most.

With a resigned sigh, you unlocked the door.

The heavy, creaking groan of the hinges sent a shiver down your spine as the door swung open. The familiar smell hit you immediately: damp, mold, and that faint metallic. You reached for the light switch, flipping it on without much thought.

Nothing happened.

You froze, your hand still on the switch. You flicked it again. And again. Still nothing.

You swallowed hard, telling yourself the bulb had probably just burned out—though you couldn’t remember a time the light had ever failed before.

“It’s fine,” you muttered under your breath, bringing the flashlight you’d brought along up. The bright beam cut through the darkness as you clicked it on, illuminating the narrow staircase in front of you. You took a shaky breath and began your descent.

The further down you went, the colder it became.

The air felt heavier here, pressing against your skin like a warning. You tried to focus on the flashlight’s beam, watching it bounce against the cracked walls and uneven steps. It helped, a little. But not enough to shake the growing knot of unease curling in your stomach.

When you finally reached the bottom of the staircase, you paused to look around. The beam of your flashlight swept across the basement, revealing the same maze of shelves, forgotten boxes, and darkened hallways you’d seen before. But tonight, it felt different—almost unfamiliar.

A shiver ran up your spine. You adjusted your grip on the flashlight, forcing yourself to move.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself. “Get the supplies and leave.”

You turned toward the shelf where Mrs. Choi always kept the repair tools. They were usually right there—neatly stored in a small wooden crate on the middle shelf. But as you shone the flashlight over it, you froze.

The shelf was empty.

Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly scanned the area. No crate. No tools. Nothing. You crouched down, checking the lower shelves, even though you knew they’d never been there before. Still nothing.

“Where…?” you muttered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own breathing.

Maybe Mrs. Choi had moved them? That was possible, right? She was always reorganizing things. You straightened up, your flashlight flicking from shelf to shelf, moving to step back, you were about tt turn to check the other shelves nearby. That’s when you heard it.

A faint sound, just on the edge of your hearing. A soft creak, like the sound of a door easing open—or maybe a floorboard shifting underfoot.

You froze, your flashlight trembling slightly in your hand.

“Hello?” you called out, your voice louder than you intended. It echoed through the basement, bouncing off the walls and disappearing into the dark hallways. No response.

You told yourself it was nothing. Maybe just the old pipes settling, or your own footsteps disturbing something. But as you turned back to the shelf, another sound reached you.

This time, it was softer—quieter. Like the faint rustle of fabric.

Your stomach dropped.

You swung the flashlight toward the nearest hallway, its beam cutting through the dark. Nothing. Just more shelves, more shadows. But your instincts were screaming at you now, telling you to leave. To get out of there.

"Okay, nope," you whispered to yourself, backing away from the hallway, your flashlight trembling slightly in your hands.

That’s when you heard it.

A hum.

Soft, almost melodic, like someone humming a lullaby just out of earshot. It floated through the air, carried on a breeze that shouldn’t have existed down here. The sound wrapped around you, tender and strangely inviting, tugging at something deep inside your chest.

You froze, the flashlight beam flickering as your grip loosened. The hum grew louder—not in an overwhelming way, but in a way that seemed to sink into your bones. It felt… warm.

Where were you again?

You frowned, the thought slipping through your mind like water through your fingers. You couldn’t remember. The dim basement around you blurred at the edges, the walls dissolving into a hazy glow. The tight knot of fear in your stomach melted away, replaced by a slow, pleasant warmth that spread through your body.

The hum wrapped around you like a blanket, comforting and wonderful, coaxing you to close your eyes and just… relax. The cold, damp smell of the basement faded, replaced by something sweeter. Flowers? No… vanilla, maybe. Something that reminded you of home.

You let out a soft sigh, your muscles relaxing, the tension in your shoulders fading. Your flashlight slipped from your fingers and clattered to the ground, but you barely noticed.

Everything felt so perfect.

You wanted to stay here forever.

But then, just as suddenly as it had started, the hum stopped.

And everything crashed back into focus.

The warmth in your chest was gone, replaced by a sharp chill that clawed at your skin. The sweetness in the air vanished, leaving behind the bitter stench of mold and metal. Your surroundings solidified, and you realized you were no longer standing where you’d been before.

You were in a different room.

The walls were smooth and gray, completely different from the crumbling concrete of the basement hallways. The shelves were gone, replaced by nothing but cold, empty space. The air felt heavier, colder, and every breath you took made your chest ache.

Your flashlight was nowhere to be seen, but a dim, pale light seemed to seep into the room from nowhere and everywhere at once.

The hum was gone, but the silence it left behind was worse.

You turned in slow circles, your heart hammering in your chest. The room was small, with smooth, gray walls that loomed over you, stretching upward into darkness.

“Hello?” you called, your voice trembling.

It echoed back to you, warped and distant, as if the room was far larger than it seemed.

The warped echoes of your voice faded into the suffocating silence of the room, leaving only the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

How did you even get here?

You couldn't remember. Your mind was still foggy, fragments of warmth and that eerie hum lingering in the back of your thoughts like an unfinished dream.

Did you walk here?

You felt like you were missing pieces of yourself, as if part of your memory had been swallowed whole.

You were about to take a tentative step forward when something deep inside you shifted—a strange, unnatural pull. It wasn't a sensation you could describe easily. It was as though a string deep within your chest was being tugged, pulling you toward something.

You froze, your breath catching as your eyes followed the invisible tether.

In the center of the room, sitting on a low, ornate stand, was a book.

Your heart stuttered. Had that been there before? You were sure it wasn’t. You would have noticed it immediately, wouldn’t you?

The book seemed to glow faintly, its crimson-red cover almost pulsating, like it was alive. There were no words or symbols on the front, just smooth, worn leather that seemed impossibly pristine for something that felt so… ancient.

You swallowed hard, your feet moving toward it as if on their own. Each step felt heavier, your instincts screaming at you to turn around, to run, but you couldn’t stop.

When you finally reached it, you hesitated.

It was smaller than you expected, almost delicate, as though it shouldn’t have belonged in a place like this. Despite its vivid crimson color, the book radiated a strange sense of calm—like it wanted to be touched.

Before you realized it, your fingers were brushing against the cover.

It felt smooth, almost unnaturally so, and surprisingly light when you picked it up. You turned it over in your hands, the edges soft and perfectly bound, as if the book had been untouched for centuries. But on the back, something caught your attention.

A pink heart.

It was imprinted into the leather, subtle, making it look almost playful.

You huffed, confused and almost annoyed by how strange it all felt. Turning the book back over, you slowly opened it.

The pages inside were blank.

Every single one, clean and untouched, as though the book had never been written in. But when you turned to the first page, something stopped you in your tracks.

There was writing.

It was delicate, inked in looping, elegant script that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. The letters were strange, unfamiliar, but they seemed alive, as though they were moving ever so slightly, shifting and breathing on the page.

Latin, your mind supplied, though you couldn’t remember ever studying the language.

You tilted your head, curiosity overriding your fear as your eyes traced the unfamiliar words. They beckoned to you, pulling you in deeper. Before you even realized what you were doing, your lips parted, and you read them aloud:

"Qui me legit, fiat noster ligamen aeternum."

Nothing happened.

You stared at the book, waiting for some dramatic effect—a rumble, a flash of light, maybe a ghostly apparition—but there was nothing. Just silence.

You let out an annoyed huff, rolling your eyes. “Great. Real spooky,” you muttered under your breath. Closing the book with a snap, you placed it back on the stand, wiping your hands on your jeans as if to rid yourself of its texture. “What a waste of time.”

Turning around, you glanced around the room again, your frustration growing. It wasn’t like you had time to deal with creepy books in creepy basements. You still needed to get out of here and figure out why the supplies weren’t where they were supposed to be.

Then, you saw it.

A door.

It was open, just wide enough for you to slip through. You frowned. Had it been there before? It must’ve been—how else would you have gotten in here? Still, something about it didn’t sit right with you.

Was that where you came from?

You shrugged. Probably.

With no other options, you headed toward it, slipping through the opening, the faint creak of the hinges echoing unnervingly.

And then you were swallowed by darkness.

“Of course,” you muttered, groaning. Without the flashlight from earlier, the darkness was thick and impenetrable. You could barely see an inch in front of your face, and the faint light from the room behind you did nothing to help.

Fishing your phone from your pocket, you switched on its flashlight. The beam wasn’t as strong as the flashlight you’d been carrying before, but it was enough to see the area around you.

The floor beneath your feet was uneven and cold, a mixture of dirt and cracked stone. You shone the light around, trying to get your bearings. The walls were damp and covered in spiderwebs, and the faint scent of mold and rust lingered in the air.

Where even am I?

You took a tentative step forward, the beam of light from your phone trembling as you moved.

The hallway kept stretching forward, narrow and seemingly endless. The farther you walked, the more the walls seemed to close in around you, the air growing colder with each step. Your phone’s light flickered once, then again, making your pulse spike.

“Don’t you dare die on me,” you whispered, gripping the device tighter.

The light steadied, and you exhaled a shaky breath, your footsteps faltering slightly.

Something felt off.

The air was too still, the silence too absolute. It was the kind of quiet that made you feel like you were being watched, like something was lurking just beyond the reach of your light.

You shook your head, trying to focus. “Get it together,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just find the exit.”

But as you took another step, something caught your attention.

A sound.

It was faint at first, almost imperceptible, but it grew louder the more you listened. A soft, rhythmic tapping, like footsteps… or fingers drumming against a surface.

You froze, the beam of your phone’s light shaking as your hands trembled. The sound echoed faintly through the corridor, coming from somewhere ahead of you.

“Hello?” you called, your voice cracking slightly.

No response.

The tapping stopped.

You waited, holding your breath, your ears straining for any hint of movement.

Then, suddenly, the tapping started again—this time behind you.

Your stomach dropped, and you whipped around, the flashlight from your phone sweeping over the hallway you’d just walked through. It was empty.

Completely, utterly empty.

You took a shaky step backward, your heart hammering in your chest. The tapping grew louder, faster, coming from all around you now, echoing off the walls in a maddening cacophony.

“Stop it,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Just stop!”

And then it did.

The silence that followed was deafening, almost worse than the sound itself. You took another step back, your pulse racing, and suddenly the floor beneath you gave way.

With a startled cry, you fell, the phone slipping from your hand as you tumbled into darkness.

You hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. Dazed and disoriented, you lay there for a moment, your head spinning and your body aching.

When you finally managed to sit up, you realized you were no longer in the narrow hallway.

You were back in the room.

The light was gone, replaced by an suffocating darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly around you.

And in the center of the room, sitting on the stand where you’d left it, was the book.

But this time, it wasn`t red.

It was black.

And it was beating.

You screamed, the sound raw and terrified as it echoed around the room. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. Your body felt impossibly heavy, as though some unseen force was pressing down on you, rooting you in place.

Frantic, your eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out, for anything to explain what was happening. But the darkness seemed alive now, shifting and writhing just beyond your vision.

And then, you felt it.

Hot breath, impossibly close, brushing against your ear.

Your breath hitched as warmth spread through you, pooling low in your stomach, and you hated how your body betrayed you, reacting to something you couldn’t even see.

Then came the lips.

Soft, feather-light, trailing along the curve of your neck. The sensation was so vivid, so real, that a groan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Your body arched instinctively, leaning into the phantom touch, even as your mind screamed at you to fight it, to run, to do something.

“Shh,” a voice purred, its tone soothing. “There’s no need to be afraid, my sweet. You called me, remember?”

Your heart raced, and your hands clenched into fists as you tried to regain control of your body. “What… what are you?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

The presence behind you chuckled, the sound low and intimate, like a lover’s laugh shared in the dark.

“I’m yours,” it said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You read the words. You invited me in. And now… we’re bound.”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “No, no, this isn’t real. This can’t be real.”

“Oh, but it is,” the voice replied, amusement lacing its tone. “You wanted something, didn’t you? Why else would you open that book? Why else would you speak those words?”

The weight on your body eased slightly, enough for you to shift and try to crawl away, but the darkness coiled around you like a living thing, keeping you in place.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?” the voice murmured, almost pitying. “Poor thing. You were so eager, so curious. And now…”

A hand—cold yet burning—brushed against your cheek, tilting your head up toward the stand where the book still rested.

“…you’re mine.”

The room seemed to pulse with those final words, the darkness tightening around you like a vice. Your vision blurred as panic clawed at your throat, and the last thing you saw before everything went black was the book—its pages flipping wildly on their own—glowing faintly with a sinister crimson light.

You woke up with a sharp gasp, your body jolting upright like you’d been shocked awake. But as you looked around, you realized you were lying in the middle of the hallway.

Your phone was on the floor beside you, its flashlight pointed up at the cracked ceiling.

It was a dream?

You laughed, breathless and shaky, running a hand through your hair as you tried to calm yourself. “This is insane,” you muttered, your voice trembling. The laughter didn’t last long—it felt hollow, a desperate attempt to convince yourself that what you’d experienced wasn’t real.

You snatched up your phone, and scrambled to your feet. Without wasting another second, you sprinted down the hallway, the weak beam of your phone’s flashlight bouncing with every step. You didn’t care where you were going anymore; you just needed to get out.

The hallways twisted and turned, stretching endlessly, and every shadow seemed to claw at you as you ran. It felt like hours—like the labyrinth was mocking you, refusing to let you leave.

But finally, somehow, you found your way back.

The dim light of the main basement room greeted you, and your breath hitched as your eyes landed on something you hadn’t expected to see.

The box of supplies.

It was sitting on the shelf, exactly where it was supposed to be.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at it. The same box you’d been searching for, on the same shelf you’d checked before.

How had it gotten here?

You didn’t dare question it. Not now. Not after everything that had just happened.

Without hesitation, you grabbed the box, clutching it tightly in one hand while you snatched the flashlight off the ground with the other.

Then you bolted.

Your feet thundered up the stairs, your pulse roaring in your ears as you raced for the exit. When you reached the top, you slammed the basement door shut and locked it, your hands shaking so badly it took you a couple of tries to get the key to turn.

The moment it was locked, you pressed your back against the door, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

You glanced down at the supplies in your arms, the mundane, ordinary contents almost laughable now after everything you’d been through.

But as you stood there, something cold prickled at the back of your neck.

You turned slowly, your eyes drifting toward the library’s main floor.

Everything was still. Silent.

And yet, for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a figure standing in the shadows between the shelves.

Watching you.

You blinked, and it was gone.

This was crazy. Absolutely crazy.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, shaking your head as you clutched the box tighter. You were just tired, that was all. You hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in days, and the stress of balancing school and work was clearly catching up to you. Yeah, tired. That’s all this is, you thought, repeating it like a mantra.

Ignoring the lingering unease prickling at the back of your neck, you made your way to the counter. The two ripped books Mrs. Choi had left were still there, waiting for you. You dropped the box down with a thud, grabbed the tools you needed, and got to work.

Your hands trembled at first as you smoothed out the torn pages, applying the adhesive carefully. You focused on the process—cutting, pressing, and smoothing out the repair strips—letting the repetitive actions calm your frayed nerves.

This was normal. Fixing books. Doing your job. Nothing weird about that.

Minutes passed. Then longer. The books were almost done, and for a moment, you felt like you could breathe again.

But then, just as you reached for the last tool in the box, a soft tap echoed through the library.

Your hand froze mid-reach, your eyes darting toward the source of the sound.

Tap… tap… tap.

It came from the direction of the shelves, slow and deliberate, like someone tapping their nails against wood.

Your chest tightened as you stared into the rows of books, the library was dark now—darker than it should’ve been. The overhead lights seemed dimmer, casting distorted shadows across the shelves.

You swallowed hard, trying to convince yourself it was nothing. Maybe it was the building settling, or the heating system kicking on. Don’t be stupid. You’re just scaring yourself.

Still, you couldn’t help but call out, your voice wavering. “Hello?”

No response.

The tapping stopped.

You stared into the darkness for what felt like an eternity, your heart hammering in your chest.

Then, just as you were about to turn back to the books, a book fell from one of the shelves.

The sound was deafening, the thud reverberating through the library like a gunshot.

You jumped, your breath hitching, and spun toward the source. The book lay open on the floor, its pages splayed out like wings.

You didn’t want to go over there. Every instinct in your body screamed at you to stay behind the counter, to leave it alone.

But your feet moved on their own, taking slow, hesitant steps toward the fallen book.

When you finally reached the book, you crouched down, your hand trembling as you picked it up.

Your fingers brushed over the embossed title, and your stomach dropped.

It was the same book you’d seen in the basement.

You gasped, clutching the crimson book tightly as your eyes darted around the library. Maybe this was some sort of prank? Someone could have grabbed the book from the basement and planted it here to scare you.

“Hello?” you called out again, but the library was still empty, silent.

Your breathing quickened as you scanned the shelves, desperate to catch a glimpse of anyone—a student pulling some cruel joke, or maybe Mrs. Choi coming back to check on you. But there was no one.

You hurried back to the counter, your heart racing, and turned on the computer. Your fingers fumbled as you brought up the CCTV footage, the small screen flickering to life. You scrubbed through the past hour, watching yourself walking back and forth, grabbing the box, and fixing the books.

Nothing.

No one else had entered the library. The hallways and shelves were empty. It was just you, moving around, completely alone.

Well… almost.

You paused the footage, your heart sinking as your eyes locked onto a shadow. It was faint, barely distinguishable, but for one brief frame, something seemed to linger in the corner of the screen. Not a person, but… something.

It was gone in the next frame.

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope,” you muttered under your breath, slamming the monitor off.

You looked at the crimson book sitting on the counter, its cover gleaming faintly under the dim light. It felt wrong—its very presence seemed to thrum.

Without thinking, you grabbed it and tossed it into the nearest trash bin, making sure it landed deep under crumpled paper and leftover scraps.

“There,” you said to yourself, your voice shaky. “Done.”

Forcing yourself to focus, you went back to finishing the torn books, your hands working faster than ever. As soon as the repairs were complete, you shoved the box under the counter and hurried to turn off the lights.

The library plunged into darkness, the faint moonlight filtering through the windows barely enough to guide you as you locked the doors behind you.

You didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside. The campus was quiet, the lampposts casting long shadows across the pathways.

You tightened your coat around you and began the walk home, your footsteps echoing loud. Every so often, you glanced over your shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that someone was following you.

But the path behind you was always empty.

Still, the unease stayed with you, like a cold weight settling deep in your chest.

When you finally reached your apartment, you locked the door behind you, double-checking it twice before collapsing onto the couch. You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe you were just tired, your imagination running wild after a long day.

Before you knew it, sleep had overtaken you. The exhaustion from the long day weighed down on your body like a blanket, pulling you into unconsciousness almost instantly.

But the peace of sleep didn’t last long.

You found yourself in a dimly lit bedroom, one you didn’t recognize. The walls were draped with dark curtains, and the air was heavy with the faint scent of roses. You sat up slowly, blinking in confusion as you tried to make sense of where you were.

“How did I…?” you murmured, your voice trailing off.

Before you could process anything, a voice, smooth and rich like velvet, broke the silence.

“My, you’re even more beautiful up close.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, equal parts alluring and unsettling. You whipped your head around, searching for the source, but the shadows in the room seemed to shift and dance, obscuring whoever was speaking to you.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” the voice continued, closer now, almost right beside your ear. “To touch you… to feel you…”

You gasped as a pair of lips suddenly pressed against yours, soft but demanding.

Your initial instinct was to pull away, but the sensation was overwhelming. Your mind grew hazy, a strange warmth spreading through your chest as the kiss deepened. It felt so intoxicating, so magnetic, that you couldn’t help but melt into it.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever experienced—it was all-consuming, as though the very act of it was pulling you further into the dream.

You felt hands brush against your skin, feather-light but firm, holding you in place.

You tried to pull back, but the hands held you steady, the kiss turning more possessive. The warmth you’d felt earlier now burned, searing through your veins as if something was being poured into you.

Panic swelled in your chest, but just as you were about to scream, the room spun violently, and everything went dark.

When your eyes shot open, you were back on your couch, drenched in sweat. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, your fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

But the lingering warmth on your lips, the faint ache of the kiss, told you otherwise.

And as you glanced toward the door, you froze.

The crimson book was sitting there, completely untouched, resting on the floor as if it had never been buried at all.

Your blood ran cold.

You scrambled to your feet, your heart pounding as you stared at the book. How was it there again? You knew you’d buried it deep under the pile of scraps.

“Nope. Not dealing with this,” you muttered, your voice shaking but resolute.

You grabbed the book, your fingers brushing against its smooth, cold cover. A strange, pleasant warmth crawled up your arm at the contact, sending shivers through your body. For a fleeting moment, it felt good—too good. Your grip faltered as a soft sigh escaped your lips, unbidden.

No.

Shaking your head fiercely, you tightened your grip and turned toward the window. Without hesitating, you threw it open, the cool night air brushing against your flushed face.

With all the strength you could muster, you hurled the book out. It spiraled through the air before landing with a dull thud on the damp grass below.

You leaned against the windowsill, watching the book. It lay there, unmoving.

Relief coursed through you.

“That’s it,” you whispered. “Stay there. Stay gone.”

Slamming the window shut, you locked it, double-checking the latch before stepping back.

You needed to clear your head, to shake off the strange sensations still crawling under your skin. Heading to the bathroom, you stripped off your clothes.

The shower hissed to life, steam rising as the water warmed. You stepped under the stream, letting the heat cascade over you, washing away the sweat and fear clinging to your body.

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to convince yourself it was all in your head. Just a bad day. Just a stressful, weird day.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the sound of the water beating against your skin filling your ears as you focused on your breathing. It’s fine. It’s just your imagination. Nothing weird is going on. You’re tired, just tired, you repeated in your mind.

The water seemed colder now, even though the temperature hadn't changed, and a shiver ran down your spine. You’re overthinking it. Just get out of the shower and relax, you told yourself, but your hands felt heavy as you reached for the soap.

Just as you were about to wash your face, a soft tap echoed from somewhere beyond the bathroom door.

You froze, the motion of your hands stalling in midair.

Tap... Tap...

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes darted to the bathroom door.

It was all too familiar. You couldn’t breathe, your chest tightening as the sound echoed louder in your mind.

No. No. It’s just the house settling. Maybe it’s the pipes. Just the pipes.

But the words felt hollow in your mind, the fear building with every passing second. The taps grew louder, clearer, almost closer.

You turned off the water quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. You stood there, motionless, listening, waiting for the sound to stop.

But it didn’t.

And then a creak. Just slightly, but enough for you to hear.

You gasped, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself as you backed away, your legs shaking. Your mind screamed at you to leave the bathroom, to get out of the apartment, but you couldn’t move.

Then, before you could react, the door opened, just a crack.

There was nothing on the other side.

Just the empty hallway beyond.

But you knew. You knew it wasn’t right.

You slammed the door shut and locked it immediately, your breath ragged. The air in the bathroom felt stifling now, the walls pressing in on you, the space shrinking.

Your hand trembled as you reached for your phone, desperate to call someone, anyone.

But the screen flickered as soon as you unlocked it. The text on the screen was warped, unreadable. You stared at it for a moment, your stomach dropping. Something wasn’t right with your phone either.

A sharp, guttural whisper curled through the air, a voice so low you barely caught it.

The voice was so faint at first, you thought it was just a figment of your imagination, a trick your mind had played in the silence. But then it came again, clear and sharp, wrapping around your senses like a heavy fog.

“Come closer...”

It was soft, smooth, but there was an undeniable edge to it—laced with something... something tempting.

You froze, the words swirling in your mind. It wasn’t your own voice. It was deeper, resonating through you, the very air around you thick with a strange pull. Your chest tightened, and you felt something shift within you, an involuntary tug deep inside your stomach, urging you forward.

“Just one touch... just one kiss...”

The voice slithered, curling into your ear like a lover’s whisper, and something about it stirred the air around you. Your body was heating up, your skin prickling with a strange energy you couldn't explain.

You swallowed hard, your breath quickening as you stared at the mirror, trying to make sense of what was happening.

That’s when you felt it—an undeniable heat at your back.

It burned, searing through you like something alive, something that wanted you. Your breath hitched, and you spun around in a panic, expecting to see someone behind you, but the bathroom was empty, the space cold and silent.

But the heat didn’t fade.

It lingered, crawling across your skin like a heavy presence, sending shivers up your spine. There was no one there, but the sensation of being watched was there. Your body tensed, the warmth spreading through your entire body now, suffocating you, as if someone was right there, pressed against you, whispering into your very soul.

“It’s just us now…”

You glanced into the mirror once more, and there it was again—the figure. This time, it was clearer, its shadowy outline just behind you, impossibly close. The reflection wasn’t yours—it was someone else, standing so close that the hairs on your neck stood on end.

You gasped, heart pounding, but the figure didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. It simply stood.

The heat intensified, and the whisper grew louder, more insistent, as if it had taken root in your mind.

“Come to me... you know you want to...”

Your pulse raced. The pull in your chest was growing stronger now, as if your body was no longer your own, as if it was being drawn to something that wasn’t just a dream anymore.

The room began to spin, and you had to grip the edge of the sink to steady yourself, feeling dizzy as the desire to obey, to give in, washed over you. But as you fought it, something else caught your eye in the mirror—something that made your blood run cold.

A pair of glowing eyes pierced through the shadows, locked on you. And they were hungry.

You staggered back, heart slamming against your ribcage, and in the corner of your vision, you saw a fleeting glimpse of something—something moving, shifting in the dark.

No… You wanted to scream, to run, but your body wouldn’t move. Your limbs felt like lead, and the heat had become unbearable, pressing into you, dragging you toward it.

With a strangled breath, you finally tore your gaze away from the mirror, blinking furiously to rid yourself of the image. But the voice didn’t stop. It echoed inside your mind, growing louder.

“We’re bound now... there’s no going back…”

You tried to pull away, tried to break free of the suffocating heat and the unbearable pressure, but you couldn’t move. It was as if invisible hands were holding you in place. Your body, already trembling from the overwhelming sensations, was paralyzed as the touch slowly traveled up your arms.

It was light, ghostly, like fingertips grazing over your skin—soft, but burning with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t. The sensation slid up to your shoulders, your neck, curling around you.

The moment it brushed your throat, the pressure seemed to increase, suffocating you. The touch lingered there, just under your jawline, fingers gentle yet firm. And then, before you could think, before you could react, you felt something else—lips.

A kiss.

But not from anyone you could see.

Your eyes snapped shut, your breath shallow as the kiss deepened, warm and intoxicating. It was urgent, burning, and wrong, but in a way that felt too good to resist. You tried to move, tried to pull back, but the invisible force held you in place, pushing you further into the kiss.

It was there, all around you—this overwhelming feeling of being wanted, of being pulled into something. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, fear and desire mingling into a sickening cocktail. The sensation of lips on yours, it felt alive, like the very essence of the kiss was drawing something from you.

A low, satisfied murmur vibrated against your lips, and something deep within you shivered.

No… stop, please… You tried to scream in your mind, but your body didn’t obey. You couldn’t pull away from it.

You were being pulled into it, held captive by something invisible, something that wasn't human. But what? What was kissing you, claiming you like this?

The answer felt just out of reach, like a whisper that barely brushed against your mind, too faint to grasp, too slippery to hold onto. The sensation of lips—too warm, too alive—pressed against yours again, and your strength began to wane. It was as if every breath you took was being drained, pulled out from you with each passing second. You felt weak, too weak to move, too weak to even think.

Your body, once full of fear, had gone completely limp, like a ragdoll strung up and held in place by an invisible force. The pressure around your throat tightened, suffocating, but you could do nothing to fight it. You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t even blink—all your energy was consumed, sucked away by whatever was holding you captive, by the kiss that wasn't a kiss.

You could feel your mind slipping, like your thoughts were dissolving into the heat, into the darkness surrounding you. The invisible force—was it a presence? A shadow?—held you in place, guiding you, manipulating you, as if you were a puppet and it was pulling your strings.

But still, the sensation of being claimed lingered, you tried to focus, tried to break free, but it was no use. Every attempt only made you feel smaller, more powerless, like you were losing yourself bit by bit.

Was this what it wanted?

Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore. It felt... distant. Detached. Like you were a spectator in your own skin, watching as the thing—whatever it was—wove its tendrils around you.

Just as the world around you seemed to fade, a distant whisper echoed through the fog of your mind:

"Mine now."

The words wrapped around you like a heavy chain, pulling tighter and tighter until you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even feel the floor beneath you anymore.

You were slipping away, your body fading into nothingness, held together only by the force that had claimed you.

"Mine forever."

When you woke up, it wasn’t like any other morning. You felt... tired. Groggy, and exhausted. As you stretched, you looked around the room, everything exactly as you left it, nothing unusual. It felt normal.

When you arrived at school, you couldn’t focus. The lessons droned on, but your mind kept wandering. You couldn't shake the feeling from last night. There was a gnawing curiosity deep inside you, a need to know what had happened, to make sense of it. You couldn’t just ignore it—your body wasn’t the same.

You pulled out your laptop in the middle of class, and you typed furiously. Your fingers flew over the keys, searching for any explanation that made sense, some kind of rational answer.

You found nothing but chaos.

The results were all over the place: demons, rituals, ghosts, whispers about curses and creatures from myths, things you thought only existed in horror stories. At first, you dismissed it. This can’t be real, you told yourself. But the deeper you went, the more it all seemed... possible.

And then you found it.

Incubus demons.

Your stomach twisted as you read more. The descriptions, the encounters—everything fit too perfectly. A demon, often seductive, one that could manipulate dreams, feed off your energy, entwine itself with you in the most intimate of ways. It would drain you slowly, filling you with warmth, with need, until it had you completely. Some even said an incubus could bind you to them—forever.

You felt a shiver creep down your spine. Was this what had happened to you? Could it be real? Could the thing you felt, the presence that had been with you, be an incubus?

The deeper you read, the more it made sense. The powerlessness, the way you felt unable to stop it, to resist. The hunger, the overwhelming desire. You couldn’t imagine it. You couldn't dream it.

You were still lost in thought as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. You gathered your things mechanically, your mind still reeling from the unsettling information you had uncovered. The words about incubus demons echoed in your head, each sentence making you feel more and more trapped.

As you packed your bag, your hand brushed against something unfamiliar. A cold chill ran through you, and your stomach dropped. You froze for a second, staring at your bag with a creeping sense of dread. Slowly, you opened it, and your eyes widened.

The book.

The crimson-red book. The one you had thrown out the window, the one you’d left behind—it was here, in your bag.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your fingers trembling as you touched the book. It was impossible. How could it be here? You distinctly remembered tossing it out, watching it fall to the ground outside your window. You’d even seen it land on the grass—it couldn’t have just come back.

A deep sense of dread filled your chest as your fingers slowly curled around the cover. You could feel the pull of it again, that same suffocating desire that called to you, whispered to you.

You quickly closed the bag, as if hiding it would make it go away.

How... how was this possible?

Your mind raced, trying to piece it together, but there was no logical explanation. The book had been thrown out. It shouldn’t be here.

And yet, it was.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t in control anymore.

Something was toying with you.

You had just sat down in your next class, trying to focus, but your mind kept wandering. How was it possible? What was happening to you? You barely noticed when the seat beside you shifted, and someone sat down, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts.

You turned your head instinctively, and your breath caught in your throat.

He was... stunning.

Tall, with sharp features and thick eyebrows that gave him an almost commanding presence. A few moles dotted his face, and his eyes were dark, almost mesmerizing, in a way which made your heart race in a way that felt unnatural.

But what really made your stomach flutter was the fact that you’d never seen him before.

Was he in this class?

You racked your brain, trying to recall if you had ever noticed him in the hallways or anywhere else on campus, but nothing came to mind.

He seemed to notice you staring at him, and a sly smile tugged at his lips. He leaned a bit closer, as if he didn’t mind the attention at all, his voice smooth and confident when he spoke.

"Hey, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of his tone. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine."

He chuckled softly, and you felt a strange sensation wash over you, like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It was unsettling, but you couldn't quite pinpoint why.

"I'm Sunghoon. Park Sunghoon," he said, his smile widening slightly.

You blinked again, now fully aware of how close he was. "Oh, uh, nice to meet you."

You forced a smile, but your heart was beating too fast. There was something about him, something that felt off—but also familiar.

Why did it feel like he already knew you?

The class went by as usual, the minutes dragging on in a haze. Sunghoon didn't speak much after you introducing yourself, but every now and then, you'd catch him glancing at you, his dark eyes glimmering with something you couldn't quite place. You tried to ignore the unease creeping up your spine and focused on the lesson.

By the time class ended, you were relieved to be able to leave. You needed some time to clear your head.

When you arrived at the library, you clocked in and slid behind the counter, but quickly growing bored, you leaned forward and opened the computer, deciding to look up something to distract you. You typed in "demon books," half expecting it to pull up some weird conspiracy theory, but to your surprise, a result popped up. There was a book, right there in the archives—on demons.

Your curiosity flared. This was what you needed.

You grabbed a pen and jotted down the shelf number before heading to the stacks. When you arrived, your eyes searched the shelves, scanning for the number you’d written down. There it was—just out of reach. The book you wanted sat high on the shelf, taunting you. You stretched on your toes, reaching as far as you could, but it was no use. You could feel the frustration rising as you considered your options.

As you were about to give up and turn away, a hand shot up from behind you, effortlessly reaching the book and pulling it down.

You turned around, heart skipping a beat. There, standing just behind you, was Sunghoon. He held the book you had been struggling to get, his expression unreadable.

“Need this?” he asked, his voice casual, almost too smooth.

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. Something about the way he said that sent a strange shiver down your spine. It was as if he knew exactly what you were searching for, as if he had been waiting for you to look it up.

“Thanks,” you said, taking the book from him, but your hand brushed against his for a moment longer than necessary. A jolt of electricity shot through you, and you quickly pulled your hand away, your face flushing.

“No problem,” he replied smoothly, his eyes twinkling. “Figured you needed a little help.”

You watched him disappear into the rows of books, and the unease from earlier returned, settling deep into your bones.

You don’t even realize what you've walked into, do you? Your deliciousness is like a siren's song, luring me in, and I am a lost soul, destined to follow. I've got you now, and I won't let you go. I'll devour every last piece of you, leaving no part untouched, for you're a feast that I'll savor forever.

Your beauty, it's like a spell, casting a shadow over my heart, and I want to take and take, until you give me everything, for I crave the taste of your soul, the essence of your being.

I think of your skin, smooth as silk, and how it feels under my touch. I imagine the taste of your lips, sweet like nectar, and how they'd satisfy my every craving. I envision your body, and how it yields to my every caress.

I'll trace the map of your body with my hands, my lips, and my heart, marking every inch as my own.

I'll feast on your lips, kiss by kiss, until my soul is satiated. I'll drink from the well of your desire, quench my thirst, and be nourished by your passion. I'll explore the depths of your pleasure, discover the peaks of your ecstasy.

And when I've had my fill, my sweet, I'll still want more. For you're an endless ocean, a bottomless pit of pleasure, and I can never quench my thirst. I'll always want to dive deeper, explore further, and discover more.

You stared at the book in your hands as you made your way back to the counter. And once you sat behind the counter, you placed the book down in front of you, the sound of the pages flipping echoing softly in the quiet library.

You opened the book, the musty scent of old pages filling your nose as you began flipping through it, scanning the words and images. Each page was filled with descriptions of various demons, their powers, their origins, and their terrifying abilities. But you kept your focus, searching for the section you had come here for.

Incubus demons.

When you finally reached the right section, your heart pounded in your chest. The words jumped off the page, unsettlingly familiar. It was like the book was confirming everything you had felt and the more you read, the clearer it became that this was no coincidence.

Incubi, it said, were demons who thrived on energy—specifically life force. They were known to seduce their victims, using dreams, lust, and an overwhelming need for intimacy to drain them. They were powerful, manipulating their prey until they were completely drained, their energy absorbed by the demon.

But what caught your eye was the last part.

"Once an incubus claims someone, it forms a bond—one that cannot be easily broken. The victim becomes a vessel, their soul linked to the demon’s for eternity."

You froze, a cold shiver crawling down your spine. Eternity. Was that what had happened to you? Had you unknowingly made a pact with something otherworldly?

You could feel your pulse quicken as your mind raced. Had you been claimed by the demon? Was it already too late to turn back?

You closed the book abruptly, the sound of it thudding against the counter loudly. You couldn’t breathe. Your stomach twisted, and for a brief moment, you thought you might collapse right there.

Just then, you heard a voice, soft but clear, cutting through the storm of thoughts in your head.

"Are you okay?"

You looked up, startled, and saw Sunghoon standing there, a stack of books in his hands. His eyes were searching your face, brows furrowed in concern.

"Uh... yeah, I’m fine," you stammered, trying to act normal. But you could feel the flush creeping up your neck, the words of the book still fresh in your mind. You quickly gathered your composure and grabbed the books from him, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feelings swirling inside you.

You ran the books through the system, scanning the barcodes one by one, all the while acutely aware of how close Sunghoon was standing.

As you glanced down at the books, you couldn't help but notice the titles—all of them were romance novels. It felt... strange. You glanced back at Sunghoon, trying to read his expression.

"Romance, huh?" you said, attempting to make small talk as you finished scanning the last one. "Didn’t peg you for someone into these kinds of books."

He chuckled softly, a low, smooth sound that made your heart skip again. "I’m not really. But, you know, sometimes it's good to pretend."

You blinked, unsure if you were reading too much into the comment. His smile didn’t help—he always had that air of mystery, like he was saying something and nothing at the same time.

"Thanks for helping with the book earlier," you added, trying to steer the conversation back to something neutral. "I appreciate it."

He shrugged, grabbing the books from on the counter. "No problem. Just looking out for you."

The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. It felt like more than just a casual statement. Like he knew something you didn’t. Something you didn’t want to know.

You tried to push the feeling down. You had to stay focused. "Anything else you need?" you asked, attempting to keep things professional.

Sunghoon just smiled again, that strange glimmer in his eyes never fading. "For now, no," he said, his tone teasing. "But I’ll be around."

When your shift finally ended, the night had already settled in, the streets now cast in shadows. You clutched your bag tightly as you walked, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Eventually, you found yourself at the bridge, standing on the edge, the water below reflecting the lights.

You opened your bag, pulling out the crimson red book, the one you had tried so desperately to get rid of. As you held it, you could feel something radiating from it—a pull, tempting you to keep it, to keep following.

You shook, unable to tear your gaze away from the book, as if it were alive, trying to draw you into its dark power. What had happened to you? What had you gotten yourself into?

A cold sweat broke out along your spine, and for a moment, you thought you might lose control. With trembling hands, you lifted the book to toss it into the water, ready to rid yourself of it once and for all.

But just as you were about to throw it off the bridge, you heard a voice behind you, low and rough.

"Hey," the voice called out, sending a shiver down your spine.

You froze, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you turned around.

Standing there was a man—a stranger. His features were sharp, his eyes narrowed in a way that made your stomach turn. There was something off about him, something unsettling in the way he watched you. His gaze was degrading, as if he had already sized you up.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here alone?" he asked, his voice slithering through the air.

You instinctively took a step back, clutching the book tighter in your hands, there was no mistaking the way his eyes lingered on you, his stare lingering a little too long.

His lips twisted into a grin, and it made your blood run cold. "You don't look like you're in a hurry to leave."

His tone, that smile—everything about him screamed danger, your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you fought the urge to run, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.

Your breath caught in your throat as the man took a step toward you, his hand reaching out with an unsettling determination. This was it. He was going to—

Suddenly, there was a sharp thud, and the man was thrown backward, crashing to the ground with a pained grunt.

You gasped, startled, and watched in disbelief as a familiar figure stepped besides you.

Sunghoon.

Without hesitation, he lunged at the man, throwing a fist that landed with a sickening crack against the stranger’s face. The man tried to scramble to his feet, but Sunghoon was relentless, his fists moving with precision, each punch landing harder than the last. You could hear the force of each strike, the sound of flesh hitting bone. The man barely had a chance to defend himself, crumpling beneath the force of Sunghoon’s blows.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, transfixed by the brutal scene before you. There was something terrifyingly powerful about Sunghoon right now, his movements were swift and calculated, as if he were punishing the man for something more than just the assault on you.

Your hands shook as you held the book tighter to your chest, you didn’t know why, but it felt like it was alive, pulsing in your grip.

The book was vibrating, faintly at first, but then stronger, almost as though it was purring, responding to the violence — to you.

You ignored it, trying to focus on what was happening in front of you. Sunghoon wasn’t stopping, his anger mounting with each punch.

The man on the ground groaned, clearly dazed, unable to defend himself. Finally, Sunghoon stopped, standing over the man, his breath coming in heavy, measured gasps.

"You shouldn’t have done that," Sunghoon said, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze unwavering. He turned to look at you, eyes locking with yours.

You were still frozen, your heart pounding in your chest, and you couldn’t make sense of it all. The way Sunghoon was acting, the way he looked at you—it was like he wasn’t the same person you’d met in the library. This was someone else.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice softer now, though there was still a sharpness to it.

You nodded, though your voice felt stuck in your throat. You couldn’t even find the words to thank him, or to ask why he’d come out of nowhere to help you. Why was he here?

Sunghoon glanced down at the man on the ground, his expression unreadable, before he turned to you again, taking a step closer.

"You’re safe now," he said, his voice more comforting this time, though the intensity never fully left his gaze.

Your hands trembled as you clutched the book tighter, trying to shake off the strange feeling it was giving you.

Sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning you before he helped you steady yourself.

“You’re okay,” he repeated, his tone lighter, he glanced at the book in your hands, and that smile of his grew, just slightly, as if pleased.

He led you away from the bridge, the cool night air now feeling heavy around you. His presence beside you was comforting, but at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the sense that he was guiding you in more ways than one.

You looked up at him, and he caught your gaze, his smile widening ever so slightly. "Seems like you’ve taken quite the interest in that," he said, his voice soft but with an edge you couldn’t quite place. "You’re holding it tightly."

Your fingers ached as you continued to clutch the book to your chest, your heart still hammering from the encounter. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, too overwhelmed by everything that had happened.

"You shouldn’t have to worry anymore," he said, his voice lowering. “You’re safe now.”

Then why did something not feel right? Sunghoon was far too calm, too understanding. As if he already knew everything—everything that had been happening to you.

The way he looked at you, like he was watching, waiting for something.

And for the first time, you realized something that made your stomach twist in unease.

He wasn’t just helping you.

He was guiding you.

The moment you stepped through the door of your apartment, you immediately noticed it. The book was still pressed against your chest, and for the first time, it felt almost suffocating. You hadn’t even realized how tightly you had been holding onto it the entire time—your knuckles white. It was like it had become a part of you, and that realization twisted something deep within your gut.

You couldn't stand it anymore.

Without even thinking, you hurled the book against the wall, your heart racing as the impact caused it to thud loudly, the book sliding to the floor. The sound echoed in the quiet apartment, and you could feel your breath catch in your throat, as if your body had finally caught up to the chaos inside your mind.

For a moment, there was silence. The book lay on the floor, the cover staring up at you, as if mocking your decision. But you were too exhausted to care anymore. Too worn out by everything that had happened.

You stumbled fowards, your legs giving way, and before you knew it, you were sinking onto the couch. Your mind was foggy, too tired to think. Your body ached, your head pounded, but the exhaustion was overpowering. The last thing you saw before your eyes fluttered shut was the book, sitting on the floor.

And the only thing you could think of as you drifted off was how you felt that it wasn’t done with you yet.

You felt so... relaxed? It was like your body was weightless, wrapped in warmth and comfort. The air was thick, almost too hot, and the bed beneath you felt too soft, like sinking into a cloud. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling above you. A grand queen-sized bed stretched out beneath you, luxurious sheets tangled around your legs.

Your head was still foggy, like you were waking from a deep, dreamless sleep. But the discomfort of the heat around you was immediate, and you instinctively pushed the covers away, trying to breathe through the thick air.

That’s when you felt it.

A weight on your body, pressing down, holding you where you lay. Your breath hitched as the sensation of someone’s lips—warm, urgent—pressed against yours. The shock of it made your chest tighten, and you gasped, eyes wide as you tried to push the figure off of you, only to find you couldn’t move.

A voice, soft but laced with something darker, echoed in your mind, almost like a whisper, “Give in.”

Your body stiffened, the words familiar yet chilling. The lips on yours were insistent, coaxing you into submission. You couldn't understand—how did you get here? Why was everything so warm? And why did you feel this strange pull?

The kiss deepened as your breath quickened, and the moment your hands tried to reach above you, they tightened their grip. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t think.

You wanted to push away. You wanted to scream. But you couldn’t. You were trapped in this sensation, helpless.

You felt so good. So pleasant. Every part of you hummed with a warmth, an overwhelming comfort, like sinking into the softest dream. But with it came an exhaustion, a draining weariness you couldn't fight.

As the lips moved from your mouth down to your jaw, trailing soft, slow kisses, you felt your body go limp beneath them. You tried to stay alert, to keep your mind sharp, but the sensation was too much. The warmth, the pleasure, it was like it was melting you from the inside out. Your energy, your strength, seemed to vanish with every kiss, every press of lips against your sensitive skin. You couldn't fight it. It felt too good.

A small gasp escaped your lips as they moved lower, their touch leaving a trail of warmth on your neck, then your collarbone. The sensation was both soothing and dizzying, like you were drifting between wakefulness and sleep. You felt so tired, but the pleasure pulling you under kept you from fully giving in.

Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, quickening with each new kiss, each lingering touch. The sound of your breath was louder than the rest of the world, but even that was fading. You could barely hold onto your thoughts, the desire to move, to push, slipped further and further away.

And then you realized—there was nothing you could do. You didn’t want to.

You felt something deep inside you stir, a craving, a hunger that matched the pull of the lips against your skin. You were being drained, yes, but it also felt like it was what you needed.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to it. You let your body go, let the exhaustion wash over you, let yourself fall into the warmth of the kiss. You didn’t even care where it was leading anymore.

You felt your body give in completely as the lips on your neck paused, lingering there, and you could hear the soft hum of approval, a low sound of satisfaction. And just like that, it was too late to resist.

As you surrendered to the moment, the hands, ever so gently, pushed your shirt up, exposing more of your skin, as the heat in the room seemed to rise.

The lips, now free to explore, trailed kisses down your stomach, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin there. His hands slid down to your waist, he squeezed gently, pulling you closer, and you felt his body press against yours.

You didn’t want to fight it anymore. Your body was giving in, responding to him, reacting in ways you couldn't fully comprehend. It was as though you were caught in a web, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

His lips moved from your neck, tracing the sensitive line of your jaw before they found your lips again, kissing you. The kiss was hungry now, deeper. You felt his hands tighten around you, as though he couldn’t get close enough, as though you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

And somehow, it felt... right.

You felt so hazy, your mind clouded by a warm, soothing fog that made it impossible to think clearly. Everything was blurred, all thoughts slipping through your fingers like sand. The weight of your body felt distant, like you were floating. You couldn’t move your limbs, couldn’t even feel them anymore.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of the lips that pressed gently against yours, warm and insistent. Every time they left, it felt like you were waiting, craving the return of that contact. And when they did, you kissed them back instinctively, your lips parting slightly to welcome them.

"Let go," it murmured softly, the sound of it like silk against your mind. "Enjoy this. Let the pleasure take over. You deserve it."

You shivered, feeling the warmth of the words settle deep inside you, pushing aside any lingering doubts, any hesitation. The voice continued, coaxing you, convincing you that this feeling, this moment, was all that mattered. That you didn’t need to resist, that you could simply surrender and feel everything without fear.

There was no fight left in you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt completely at peace. You didn’t have to think, you didn’t have to worry— just the feeling of being taken care of, loved, and wanted.

You closed your eyes, lost in the comfort, the warmth, and the voice that guided you deeper into the haze.

You woke up suddenly, your mind heavy, still clouded in a haze, and found yourself lying on the couch. You blinked, trying to shake off the fog, and as you looked around, everything seemed perfectly normal.

One thing wasn't normal, though. It was the warmth, the sticky, almost suffocating heat clinging to your skin, like honey trapping you in its sweetness. The sensation was odd, and it was paired with an exhaustion that weighed you down, a tiredness so deep you could barely keep your eyes open.

You managed to sit up and push yourself to your feet, dragging yourself to the bathroom, needing to see your reflection, needing to understand what was happening. The mirror greeted you with an unexpected shock.

Your neck and collarbone were covered in marks—deep, almost bruised-looking impressions, some faint, others dark, like someone had pressed their lips into your skin too hard, leaving their mark. You barely recognized the face staring back at you. Your cheeks were flushed, the kind of flush you’d never get from just a long day, and your eyes looked distant.

You kept staring at your reflection, eyes wide in disbelief, and slowly pulled your shirt off, but what greeted you beneath your clothes made your breath catch in your throat.

Handprints. Dark, unmistakable imprints stretched across your waist, your hips, and even down to your thighs. It was like someone had gripped you there with force, leaving their mark on your skin, as if they couldn’t resist claiming every part of you.

You stood there, frozen, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. The more you looked, the more it seemed to confirm your theory.

An incubus had done this.

But the memories were murky, like a dream fading in the light of day. You couldn't remember the specifics, but the evidence was undeniable.

You were cursed.

The thought sent a shiver through your body. There was no other explanation. It was all pointing to something beyond your control, something that wanted you, that had claimed you.

But what did it want from you? Why you?

The mirror reflected your confusion, your unease, and your disbelief. Your hand instinctively reached up to touch the marks, your fingers brushing lightly over your skin. Each touch sent a wave of heat through you, a reminder that something was still there, still affecting you, even when you had no idea what was really going on.

Days passed in a strange blur after that. Each time you tried to focus, tried to pull yourself together, the exhaustion dragged you down further. You couldn’t remember when it had started, when your body began to feel like it was no longer your own, but it was now a part of your reality. Every night, you’d find yourself drifting off to sleep, only to wake up once again in that grand bed, under the same warmth, your body burning.

The familiar sensation of lips on yours, the heat of his hands—each kiss drained you, leaving you weak and confused. It felt as though the very life force was being sucked out of you, but you were too tired to resist. Too tired to care. The next morning, you would wake up again, just as exhausted, with the marks on your skin deepening, the imprint of his touch still there. You tried to push through the haze, but it felt like you were walking through quicksand.

And then there was Sunghoon.

He was there for you in ways you couldn’t explain. It started small—offering to walk you to class, making sure you ate something, checking in on you when you seemed too tired to function. You didn’t fight it. You were too exhausted to.

You would often find yourself slumped at the counter, fighting to keep your eyes open, and there he was, showing up with something to drink or a comforting word, offering you a brief respite from the overwhelming fatigue that seemed to cling to your every movement. You didn’t realize at first that you were relying on him, leaning on him without question.

But Sunghoon didn’t mind. In fact, he thrived in this new dynamic, in your dependence on him. He reveled in the way you’d look to him for comfort, for answers, for protection. You didn’t know how much it fed into his desires, how much he enjoyed being the one to offer you care, to have you rely on him completely.

And you? You were too tired to notice. Too lost in the fog of exhaustion, the haze of what was happening to you.

But.. the more time you spent with Sunghoon, the more you began to notice the oddities that you’d once brushed off. He was always there, always watching, always making sure you were okay. But something about him felt... off. It wasn’t just his constant attention—it was the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, before you even asked for it. It was the way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long, his smile a little too knowing, like he was seeing something in you that no one else did.

Then, there was the issue with his past. Sunghoon never spoke about it. When you asked about his family or where he grew up, his answers were vague, brushing off the topic with a quick change of subject. No traces of a life outside of the moments he spent with you.

It didn’t make sense. You had seen him around campus, so you knew he wasn’t a complete ghost. But there were no photos, no friends tagging him on social media, no history to trace. He was just... there. As if he had stepped out of nowhere and appeared in your life, and now he was all you could focus on.

Something about him felt wrong, and the pieces were starting to fall into place. But you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning on him, allowing him to take care of you. You didn’t know what to think anymore, especially since you were so tired, so lost in the fog of exhaustion that you couldn’t tell if your thoughts were your own or if they were being influenced by something else.

So, you decided to test your theory—to see what would happen if you suddenly started ignoring him. It wasn’t easy. Sunghoon always seemed to find a way to be around you, whether it was sitting next to you in class or showing up at the library while you worked. But you were determined. You stopped texting him back, avoided his gaze, and made excuses to leave whenever he tried to engage you in conversation.

At first, he didn’t seem bothered by it. He would simply smile when you dodged him, as if he already knew why you were doing it. That unnerved you more than anything else. It was like he could see right through you, like he knew your thoughts before you did.

But as the days went on, his demeanor started to shift. His smiles became tighter, his gaze colder, and the once-comforting presence he exuded started to feel suffocating. He wasn’t following you outright, but every time you turned a corner, you’d catch him in your peripheral vision—leaning against a wall, walking just a few steps behind you, always near enough to remind you that he was there.

One night, after a particularly long shift at the library, you came home and collapsed onto your couch, exhaustion washing over you. The moment you closed your eyes, you found yourself back in that bed again.

But this time, there was a whisper. A deep, seductive voice you hadn’t heard before.

"You can’t ignore me forever."

Your eyes snapped open, your heart pounding. You were back on your couch, drenched in sweat, and your hands were trembling. You instinctively gripped the edge of the couch as you tried to ground yourself, but the tremor in your fingers betrayed how shaken you really were. The room was quiet—too quiet. It felt as though something was watching you, just out of sight.

Your gaze darted toward the windows, scanning for any sign of movement, but the curtains were still drawn shut. Slowly, you reached for your phone on the coffee table, wanting the comfort of a light, a distraction—anything. As the screen lit up, you noticed the time. 3:03 a.m.

And then you saw it.

A single notification. It wasn’t from anyone in your contacts, just an unknown number. You hesitated before opening it, dread settling in your stomach like a lead weight. The message read:

"Stop running."

You dropped the phone as though it had burned you, the clatter breaking the suffocating silence. Your breaths came shallow and quick as you stared at the device, afraid it would light up again.

No. This had to stop.

You pushed yourself off the couch and stumbled to the bathroom, your legs weak beneath you. Splashing cold water on your face, you tried to steady your breathing.

You gripped the edge of the sink, your knuckles turning white as you leaned forward, staring at your pale reflection in the mirror. Your breaths came shallow and uneven as you tried to process everything.

It didn’t make sense—none of it did. But your thoughts kept circling back to Sunghoon. His perfect timing, his uncanny presence, the way he seemed to know more than he let on.

Your throat felt dry as you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to say it.

“Sunghoon?”

The sound of his name echoed faintly in the small bathroom. You waited, holding your breath, your heart pounding louder and louder in your chest. Nothing happened.

For a moment, you felt ridiculous, like you were spiraling into paranoia. You let out a shaky exhale and closed your eyes, trying to collect yourself. But then, just as you started to relax, you felt it.

A heat began to radiate behind you, warm and heavy, pressing against your back like a presence. The air shifted, and before you could react, a soft whisper brushed against your ear.

“Did you miss me?”

Your eyes snapped open, wide with terror, as you froze in place. The mirror reflected nothing behind you, but the heat remained, and the voice lingered, teasingly low and intimate.

“Y-you’re not real,” you stammered, gripping the sink tighter, refusing to turn around.

The voice chuckled, soft and amused. “Oh, but I am. You called me, didn’t you? Thinking of me? Dreaming of me?”

A shiver ran down your spine as the warmth seemed to creep closer, pressing against you like an invisible embrace. You gasped, your knees threatening to buckle under the weight of whatever was behind you.

“I-I wasn’t—”

“Liar,” the voice interrupted, a trace of playfulness in its tone. “You’ve been looking for answers, haven’t you?”

You felt something brush against your shoulder, light as a feather but enough to make your skin tingle. Your breathing quickened as the sensation spread, leaving you dizzy and disoriented.

“Stop,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

But the voice only hummed in response, low and pleased. “You can’t run from me. You’ve known that all along.”

“I never wanted this!” you shouted, your voice trembling but firm, defiance breaking through your fear. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”

The air around you grew colder, and suddenly a hand—a firm, invisible grip—wrapped around your throat. You gasped, your hands flying up instinctively to claw at nothing.

“Oh, but you did,” the voice purred, smooth and dark, vibrating through the room. The grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your pulse race, but not enough to harm you. It was a warning.

“You put this on yourself the moment you read the words in that book,” the voice hissed, hot breath fanning over your ear. “Qui me legit, fiat noster ligamen aeternum. Do you even know what that means?”

You shook your head frantically, tears pricking at your eyes as you struggled against the phantom hand holding you in place. The voice chuckled, low and condescending.

“It means, ‘Who reads me, let our bond be eternal.’ You invited me in.”

Your breath hitched as the words hit you like a punch to the gut. The book. The book in the basement. The words you read aloud.

“That’s not possible,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “It’s just a stupid book. It—it can’t be real!”

The laughter that followed was sharp, almost mocking. “Oh, it’s very real. And now, so am I.”

In the mirror, the reflection began to change. The shadow behind you shifted, growing more defined, more solid. Your eyes widened in horror as the silhouette morphed, taking shape, and then—

There he was.

Sunghoon.

Your heart stopped. You couldn’t believe it, but there was no mistaking him. The sharp jawline, the intense gaze, the faint smirk curling his lips. It was him.

Sunghoon stood behind you, his hand still firmly around your throat, his touch searing and impossible to ignore. His other hand came to rest lightly on your waist, and you shivered under the weight.

“Surprise,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement as his eyes locked with yours in the mirror.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head, panic rising in your chest. “This— you’re not—”

“Not what?” Sunghoon interrupted, tilting his head as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Not human? Not the man who’s been taking care of you? Or not the one who’s been in your dreams, night after night?”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. The pieces were falling into place, but they painted a picture you didn’t want to see.

“You were so lonely,” Sunghoon continued, his voice softer now, almost tender. “So desperate for someone to understand you. And I came to you, didn’t I? Gave you exactly what you needed.”

His hand on your waist tightened slightly, his grip on your throat loosening just enough for you to take a shaky breath.

“But you’re scared now. Why?” he asked, his tone almost teasing, as if he already knew the answer. “You’ve enjoyed this, haven’t you? The attention, the way I’ve made you feel.”

“No,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. “You tricked me. This isn’t what I wanted.”

Sunghoon’s smirk widened, his reflection in the mirror impossibly calm, his eyes glinting with something dark and dangerous.

“You can lie to yourself all you want,” he said, his tone almost pitying. “But you can’t lie to me.”

“We’re bound now, you and I,” he whispered, his voice soft but laced with finality. “You can’t run from me. You can’t hide. And deep down, you don’t want to.”

You stared at him in the mirror, your chest heaving, your mind screaming for you to fight back, to do something, anything. But your body betrayed you, frozen in place as Sunghoon’s reflection smiled, dark and triumphant.

His grip tightened around your arms as he suddenly spun you around effortlessly, your back slamming against the cold countertop. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as the impact sent a jolt through your body, and you found yourself face to face with him.

Only... it wasn’t entirely him.

Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you took in his appearance. Sunghoon was still the same—his sharp features, his impossibly handsome face—but now, his true form was on full display.

Two curved, jet-black horns protruded from his head, his ears were pointed, inhumanly sharp, twitching slightly as though attuned to every sound you made. A pair of massive, leathery wings stretched out behind him. His skin held a faint reddish tint now, and his eyes...

They weren’t what you’d grown accustomed to.

They were blood-red, burning with an intensity that made your knees weak.

As your gaze traveled lower, you caught sight of a sleek black tail swishing behind him, the pointed tip moving back and forth like a serpent poised to strike.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon asked, his voice low and smooth, laced with amusement.

You couldn’t answer. Your lips parted, but no sound came out as you stared up at him, utterly frozen. He leaned in closer, the heat radiating from him making it even harder to think, to breathe.

“You should’ve known,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You should’ve felt it. I’ve been hiding in plain sight this whole time, waiting for you to figure it out.”

“Sunghoon...” you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you tried to push him away, but your arms felt like they were moving through water—slow, weak, powerless.

He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent heat flooding through your chest. “Still clinging to the illusion, huh? Poor thing.”

His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with an almost tender touch.

“This is the real me,” he said softly, his voice dripping with dangerous charm. “And now that you’ve seen it, there’s no going back.” His wings shifted slightly behind him, the sound making your stomach twist in unease. His tail flicked once, curling against your leg in a way that made your skin crawl—and, to your shame, sent a strange warmth pooling in your chest.

“You’re lying,” you said weakly, your voice barely audible. “This isn’t happening...”

Sunghoon tilted his head, his expression softening just enough to make it even more unsettling. “Lying?” he repeated, his voice almost offended. “Sweet thing, everything I’ve done has been the truth. You just didn’t want to see it.”

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his red eyes locking onto yours with a hypnotic intensity. “But now you can’t ignore it, can you? You can’t ignore me.”

You gasped, your body trembling as his tail coiled tighter around your leg, holding you in place. “You belong to me now,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice final. “And nothing will change that.”

You clenched your eyes shut, your entire body trembling as you willed it all to disappear. You thought maybe—just maybe—if you denied it long enough, it would go away. That he would go away.

But it didn’t work.

Instead, you heard his low, amused chuckle. The sound was rich and dark, crawling into your ears and embedding itself into your mind.

“You can’t escape me,” he murmured. And before you could protest, his lips crashed against yours, stealing your breath and overwhelming your senses.

The kiss was searing, a fire that burned its way through your body and left you paralyzed. It wasn’t soft or careful—it was commanding, leaving no room for resistance.

Sunghoon...

Sunghoon was an incubus.

Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to fight, but your body wouldn’t listen. The warmth from his lips spread through you like molten lava, making you weak, making you feel... good. Too good.

You tried to turn your head, to break the connection, but his hand gripped your jaw firmly, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a skill that made your knees feel like jelly, and the heat radiating off him felt almost suffocating.

When he finally pulled back, your head spun, your breaths shallow and uneven. His glowing red eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the satisfaction etched across his face.

“See?” he purred, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’re not resisting me.”

You shook your head weakly, trying to deny it. “You’re not... I won’t...” you stammered, but even as the words left your lips, they sounded hollow.

Sunghoon leaned down again, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You already gave yourself to me the moment you opened that book.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you struggled to comprehend his words. You’d read the words without understanding what they meant, unknowingly binding yourself to him.

“You belong to me now,” he said, his voice soft but firm, his hand trailing down to rest on your waist. “No running. No escaping.”

His tail flicked lazily at his side, as if he were toying with you, enjoying your fear and confusion.

“I’ll take care of you,” Sunghoon continued, his tone shifting to something almost... tender. “You won’t need anyone else. You won’t want anyone else.”

You clenched your fists, trying to fight against the pull he had on you, the way his words seemed to seep into your mind like poison.

“What do you want from me?” you finally managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I already have what I want,” he said simply, his hand tilting your chin up so you couldn’t look away. “You.”

His hand slid up to your throat again, his grip firm but not enough to hurt—just enough to remind you who was in control. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, and before you could think or protest, his lips captured yours again.

This time, the kiss was more intense. It was intoxicating, a dizzying, heady sensation that left you feeling drunk and high at the same time, though there wasn’t a hint of nausea.

Instead, you felt consumed, like your body and mind were being submerged in a warm ocean. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that left you breathless.

Your hands gripped the edge of the bathroom counter behind you, trying to ground yourself, but the heat only grew. It curled in your stomach, spread up your spine, and flooded every corner of your being.

Sunghoon’s lips left yours only briefly, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed down your jaw, tracing a path to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You couldn’t respond, your head spinning, your body trembling. Every word he spoke seemed to sink into your skin, fusing with your very being.

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your ear. “No one else can make you feel like this. No one else can take care of you like I can.”

When he finally pulled back, his red eyes burned into yours, glowing with satisfaction.

“Say it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your pulse. “Say you’re mine.”

You hesitated, your lips parting, but no words came out. Your mind was a swirling mess of emotions, torn between the primal pull he had over you and the small flicker of defiance still burning in your chest.

Sunghoon leaned closer, his smirk returning as he tilted your chin up slightly. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’ll say it soon enough.”

With that, he released you, stepping back just enough to let you breathe, though the heat still clung to your skin like a second layer. Your knees felt weak, your body trembling, and you gripped the counter to keep from collapsing.

“Rest for now,” he said, his tone almost affectionate. “We’ll see each other again soon.”

And with a flick of his tail and a low hum of satisfaction, he vanished, leaving you alone in the dimly lit bathroom, your body still warm and your mind reeling from what had just happened.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that Sunghoon’s persistence wasn’t just some fleeting infatuation—it was something far deeper. When an incubus claimed a human, it seemed, their desire turned into a relentless obsession. Sunghoon took every opportunity to have you, to pull you into the haze of his presence, leaving you breathless and weak in his wake.

In the library, you were shelving books in the far corner, but then, you felt it—the familiar warmth crawling up your spine. Before you could turn, his hands were on your waist, spinning you around and pressing you against the shelf.

“Sunghoon—” you started, but your words were cut off as his lips crashed against yours, desperate and hungry.

The books nearly toppled from the shelf as his body pinned you in place. His hands slid down to your thighs, gripping them tightly before lifting you up effortlessly, your back pressed to the shelf. His kisses left you dizzy, your hands clinging to his shoulders for balance as his lips trailed down your jaw, his voice low murmurs.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, your body trembling. He smiled, his red eyes glowing faintly. “Couldn’t help myself,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

In the kitchen, you thought you’d have a moment of peace as you cooked dinner, but of course, he appeared again.

You didn’t even hear him approach before his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter.

“Sunghoon!” you protested, but your voice wavered as his lips found yours, silencing any resistance.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them slightly as he stood between them, his kisses consuming. The heat of the stove was nothing compared to the fire he ignited in you with every touch.

“You taste better than anything you’re cooking,” he teased against your lips, as you shivered under his touch.

Even in class, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. At first, it was subtle—a hand resting on your thigh under the desk. But his touch was anything but innocent. His fingers pressed into your skin, his grip firm enough to leave an imprint through the fabric of your jeans.

One day, you made the mistake of wearing a skirt to class. His reaction was immediate.

His eyes darkened the moment he saw you, his gaze lingering on your legs with a hunger. The skirt seemed to drive him wild, and he didn’t bother to hide the want in his eyes as he took the seat beside you.

During the lecture, his hand found its way to your thigh again, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on your bare skin. Every touch sent shivers up your spine, your pulse quickening as his grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

“You wore this for me, didn’t you?” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

You didn’t answer, your face burning as you tried to focus on the professor’s voice. But Sunghoon wasn’t letting you off so easily. His hand slid higher, just enough to make you squirm in your seat.

By the end of class, you were a mess, your legs trembling as you tried to stand. Sunghoon, of course, looked perfectly composed.

But one event made you realize just how far Sunghoon's obsession had gone happened unexpectedly.

You had just finished getting ready, dressed to go out to the club, your outfit on point, and your makeup perfectly done. You were about to put on some music for the drive when suddenly, you heard a soft hum from behind you.

The sound was so familiar, so calming that you couldn’t help but pause. The familiar haze crept in, clouding your thoughts. Before you could even process what was happening, you felt a shift in your surroundings. The next thing you knew, you were no longer sitting in the front seat of your car but instead found yourself in the backseat, sitting on Sunghoon's lap.

“You going somewhere?” he asked, his voice smooth, leaning back, his eyes filled with contentment. He seemed to be enjoying the view of you on his lap, your body pressed against his, all dressed up.

You were about to move off, muttering to yourself about how utterly stupid this situation was.

However, before you could push him away, Sunghoon's hands went around your hips. He pulled you closer, his body pressing into yours, and then, with a sudden thrust, he lifted you off his lap.

The movement was unexpected, and it caught you off guard. You let out a surprised squeal as you found yourself being moved to lay down on the backseat. Sunghoon hovered over you, his body pressing down on yours, his eyes filled with a fiery passion.

You were on the brink of speaking, your mind filled with thoughts you wanted to express, when suddenly, Sunghoon's lips crashed down on yours, silencing your words in an instant.

His lips, soft yet demanding, devoured yours, a perfect blend of tenderness and dominance. Sunghoon groaned into the kiss, a deep, raw sound that reverberated through your core. His hands found their way to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. And as his kiss deepened, you felt him wrap your legs around his hips. You could feel the heat of his body, the solidness of his muscles, and the intensity.

You felt a sudden urge to pull away, to regain some sense of control and composure. With a gentle push, you tried to create some distance between you and Sunghoon. But Sunghoon, ever attuned to your every move, wasn’t about to let you escape so easily. As you tried to shift, reaching for the car door, his hands swiftly grabbed your waist, his strong arms pulling you closer. His chest pressed against your back, and you turned your head, your breath quickening as Sunghoon leaned over, his face now inches from yours.

His voice, soft and teasing, broke through your thoughts. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his tone low, almost playful.

You couldn’t find the words to answer, but you could feel the heat rising between you.

Sunghoon, sensing your hesitation, nuzzled his face against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. The soft touch of his lips traced a path along your neck, sending a jolt of warmth through you. You shivered at the sensation, unable to stop the flutter in your chest.

"Sunghoon..." you breathed, trying to push him away again, but his hands tightened around your waist. He didn’t let you move, holding you there.

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “You want me to slow down?” he teased, his voice amused.

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat between you both. The car, once cool, now felt stifling, the air thick. You glanced over at the windows, noticing that the glass had fogged up, the condensation creeping in.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you tried to focus, but it was hard with him so near, his breath warm against your neck. You could feel him pressed against your back, his hands still holding you close.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered again, your voice barely a breath, caught between uncertainty and desire. You shifted slightly, trying to pull away, but he gently tugged you back, his lips hovering just above your ear.

“Why resist?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it, a quiet demand. His lips brushed against your earlobe, sending another shiver down your spine. “We both know you don’t want to.”

The fog on the windows seemed to grow thicker, the air growing warmer with every passing second, as if the space between you was becoming smaller.

You didn’t answer him right away, just closing your eyes for a brief moment, trying to clear your mind.

But Sunghoon's voice broke the silence as he gazed at you. "You look perfect," he said, his eyes roving over your body, taking in every detail. "So delectable, it's as if you're offering yourself on a silver platter."

His hands, which had been resting on your waist, slowly slid downwards, tracing the curves of your hips with a gentle touch.

"I want to ruin your makeup," he said, his voice low. "I want to mark you as mine, to leave my touch on you."

His hands, which had been gently caressing your body, suddenly tightened around your hips. With a swift movement, he flipped you over, and you found yourself lying on your back, staring up at him with surprise.

"I want to look at you," he said, his voice low and intense. "I want to see your beautiful face, your eyes, your lips, as I kiss you."

His lips, soft yet demanding, pressed against yours, a perfect show of passion. His hands roamed freely, tracing the curves of your body. He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, a gentle caress that sent a rush of pleasure through your body.

Guess this is what happens when you get claimed by an incubus in love.

a/n: well.. i have no other words. this had been sitting in my drafts for awhile so, yeah :)

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skittles-secrets · 2 days ago

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I just wanna say I love your writing sm! 🥰 and I’d like to request hcs on how the batboys act when they have a crush on the reader, and how they work themselves up to asking them out? Tysm!

how they act when they have a crush 😯

bruce wayne

had known the feeling all too well. he'd had lots of crushes before. bruce is worried, though, because most of his other relationships ended in some sort of crazy plot twist and he couldn't handle that again. plus, he was driving himself crazy worrying.

will they not like me after they spend more than a day with me at a time? will they break up with me when they see all the kids? how can i tell them i'm batman?

he got over it though when his eldest son, dick, hit him on the back and encouraged him. "bruce, you can't keep waiting around. if you want something, you have to get it before it's gone, okay?"

so, then he wasn't so afraid of having his little crush anymore.

dick grayson

could've asked you out a loooong time ago. he has the confidence. he has the looks. he was a fan favorite in all of gotham. so why hadn't you? well, he wasn't sure if you'd go for someone like him. he didn't know of your past relationships, let alone if you'd had any. so that's how he talked himself out of it.

it was only when he caught himself giggling at your texts to him at 3 a.m. when he realized that he was down bad. he needed to confess to you. if he didn't, he'd be stuck pining after you and laughing at your texts like a hormonal teenager for the rest of his sad, sad life.

jason todd

didn't really understand the feeling at first. he didn't get exposed to crushes and those sorts of things as a child because he didn't have the luxury of elementary school. then, he spent most of his teenage to young adult years.. well.. dead, so... it's not like he could have been dating anyone then.

that's why he was so confused and nervous. why doesn't talking to you feel like anyone else? why does he mentally scold himself after every conversation for every stupid thing he said.

he realized he had to confess to you on one of the occasions he made you smile. he realized that he wanted to do it over again a million more times, because he wanted to be the one to make you smile and laugh. he wanted to be there for you while you slept, or were sad, or scared. damn.. he really likes you.

tim drake

was no stranger to crushes. he'd always been the type to look at someone and crush on them for years, never say anything, and then it goes away when he realizes that it's never gonna work out. that's what his crush was like, pining after you.

he just automatically assumed that every person he'd like would never even consider dating him. it was weird, because he's a good looking guy and there's no reason for him to think like that.

he realized that he needed to confess to you when he found himself accidentally stalking your instagram so hard he hit the first post you ever made. also, jason called him out for it in front of damian and damian is mean so he got embarrassed and flustered and decided that it wouldn't be so bad if he actually did say something to you.

thank you so much for the request and the follow! i loved this idea, and it was so fun to write. thank you for liking my writing!

#dc x reader #bruce wayne x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x you #dick grayson #bruce wayne #richard grayson x reader #bruce wayne fluff #tim drake blurb #tim drake x reader #tim drake fluff #tim drake

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creamecafe · 19 hours ago

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Heyyy there I saw your post about allowing a request for various squid game characters. Can I request Hwang In-ho/front man?

Partner! Reader x Hwang In-ho/Front man

Like s/o doesn't know anything about the games and In-ho just have a whole nother identity just for her. She knows that In-ho goes on a business trip for 7 days and then comes back like nothing happens. And just before In-ho leaves for the "business trip" they have fluff moments and In-ho tries his best to keep her out of his other life

🫶🫶🫶

Secrets I have held in my heart

Summary: What the requests says

Pairing: Hwang In-Ho x GN!Reader

Warnings: none just fluff and maybe feelings of guilt, bathing together but it's NOT smut

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it! I also tried making my own dividers. It's not the best, but if I make one that's decent I'll post them for people to use

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

Hwang In-Ho was an interesting man. But he was yours. Your friends and family say they find him to be scary or something off about him. But you can't see him anything else than what he is, a caring husband who makes sure to provide well for you.

He tells you that his job is working at a sales company of always testing new products for people and surveying so you really thought nothing of it. Majority of the time he would go on business trips for at least a week. He never told you where he was going but you never wanted to bother him so much.

It was three days before he left and he always made sure to spend all his time with you. Taking you out to eat at your favorite place, watching your favorite movies, cooking and taking naps together.

Doing these things with you made him happy, but he also felt bad about lying about his work to you. He knew that your perspective and love would change because of that.

He didn't want to lose you because of that. But he also couldn't lose his job.

Today was the last day he would be spending time with you and he wants to make the most of it. You woke up with breakfast in bed. Your favorite.

"Don't worry about work sweetheart, I called in sick for you."

You smiled knowing you were really going to spend the day with him together

After you finish your breakfast, you two would take a warm bath together. Nothing sexual, just you two holding each other and making small talk.

Then it would be you guys just watching TV and cuddling with each other.

He really loves you so much. It was hard keeping his double life from you. But all that mattered was that you were safe and anything that you knew could put you in danger.

A few hours have passed and he ordered take out on your favorite restaurant. There it was again, just talking and him saying he's going to miss you

Before you knew it, it was time for you both to go to sleep. You were sad knowing that the next morning he would be gone.

Both of you guys were wrapped up in each other, cuddling and innocence of you two sleeping together meant so much to him.

The next morning came and he had to get ready to leave. You helped him prepare the stuff he needed, suits, snacks, and a goodbye kiss.

"Promise you'll text me everyday to at least make sure you're alight?"

"I promise my darling."

Both of you smiled at this and kissed each other as he was heading to his taxi. He looked back at you and waved to you.

You waved back and soon the car drove off.

When he was in the car, he pulled out his phone with a text message asking if he was on his way. He responded and then took something out of the pocket from his jacket. It was a picture of you. It would at least be a reminder of everything he's doing for you to have the best life possible even if you didn't know.

It would be a few hours before he had to put his love aside for you and keep focus on the bigger picture.

#creamecafe #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #no spoilers #hwang in ho #front man #player 001 #squid game x reader

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moralesluvr · 20 hours ago

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Hey! So this is like a goofy requested like idek. So basically I've been watching coming home videos of people in the army and don't even ask why lmao but everytime they make my heart burst! 😭

It gave me the idea of a billie x reader fanfic. The reader is in the army and has been away for a few months now. We told billie we aren't going to be home as soon as we thought, and of course billie is really upset, but what she doesn't know is that actually we are coming home early to surprise her! Her family is in on it and helps us surprise her, and she gives us the most adorable reaction possible.

Sorry if this sounds stupid. In my head, this sounds alot lot better, I promise 😭

anon i love this idea, thank you for your request !!

SWEET RETURN | b. eilish.

you could hear the laced disappointment in billie’s voice through the phone, even though she was trying her best to mask it. the sound of her pouting made your heart shatter, though she had no idea what was coming to her, for the better.

“so… not until next month?” she asked you, her tone light, but you knew her well enough to catch the sadness hiding behind her words.

“yeah,” you replied, swallowing the lump in your throat, “things got delayed here. they need me to stay a little longer. i’m so sorry, babe. i wish i could come home earlier.”

there was silence on the other end for a moment, followed by a quiet sigh. you hear her shuffle within the covers of your bed, “it’s okay. i get it. i just… i really miss you, y’know? the house feels so empty without you. i miss my wife.”

“i know,” you said, your chest tightening at her words. you had missed her so damn badly— and your excitement to see her again was almost too much to contain. “i miss you too, so much. but i promise, as soon as i’m back, we’ll make up for all this time apart, okay?”

billie let out a small, shaky laugh. you can hear her sniffles, “okay, my love. m’getting a little sleepy, so i’ll talk to you later.”

“okay,” you said, grinning widely, even though she couldn’t see you. “only a little longer, okay? then i’ll get to see my beautiful wife.”

you can practically hear her smile through her voice, “m’kay. i know you’ve got shit to do, so i can’t be too upset. but i love you, okay? have a good night.”

“i love you too,” you said, your voice soft, honey dripping from your tone, “more than anything.”

you hang up the phone, almost unable to conceal your excitement. what billie didn’t know was that you were already on your way home, ready to see her and attack her with hugs and kisses, ready to see her surprised expression when she sees you.

────୨ৎ────

two days post phone call, you were standing in billie’s parents’ cozy living room, your heart racing as maggie smoothed over your uniform, while patrick and finneas helped finalize the plan.

“she’s going to flip!” maggie spoke softly yet excitedly, a delighted smile spreading across her face, “she’s been so down lately, my lovebug. this will make her year.”

her dad nodded in agreement. “you’ve got the flowers, right hun?”

“got them,” you said, holding up the bouquet of billie’s favorite flowers, thanks to very detailed and focused bouquet shopping with finneas. you bounced on your heels excitedly, so ready to see billie— it had been so long, and all you wanted to do was see her pretty face and wrap her in a warm embrace.

“good!” patrick replied, clapping a hand on your shoulder lightly with a smile. though he was usually more stoic, even he couldn’t keep himself together at the thought of his daughter being overflowed with joy at this surprise.

you let out a nervous laugh, adjusting your uniform for what felt like the hundredth time with a nod. you waited on the couch patiently as maggie poured you a glass of cider, you two chattering amongst yourselves as patrick and finneas watched tv.

billie thought she was coming over for a quiet and peaceful family dinner. her mom had told her it was a way to cheer her up while you were “still stuck overseas.”

she had come over about an hour after you did, and you could hear her engine being killed in the driveway, making your nerves pulse through your skin as you waited anxiously, flowers in hand.

she pushed open the door, calling out a distracted, “hello, my loves!”

maggie greeted her at the door, pulling her into a quick hug. “hey, sweetheart! come on in!— oh, and dinner’s almost ready, but we’ve got a little surprise for you first.”

billie raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the dining room. “a surprise?”

“just come see, lovebug.” maggie spoke, leading her further into the house.

you stood in the living room, hidden just around the corner. your heart pounded as you heard her voice, the sound like music to your ears after so many months apart. you wanted to jump out and hug her, but you had to keep your composure as you stayed hidden.

“okay… guys…what’s going on?” billie asked, her voice light but curious. she sounded almost a little frustrated that she couldn’t figure it out, but her eyes immediately widened as you stepped out into view, holding the bouquet in your hands and a nervous smile on your face, “hi, baby.”

billie froze, her eyes locking on you as her jaw lowered. for a moment, she didn’t move, and it looked like she wasn’t even breathing for a second.

then, all at once, she dropped everything she was holding and ran toward you.

“oh my god, oh my god!” she cried, her voice breaking as she threw her arms around your neck. “you’re here! you’re really here!”

you wrapped your arms around her, holding her as tightly as you could without crushing the flowers between you. you wrapped a loving back behind her frame, “i’m here,” you whispered, your own voice shaking. you felt tears well in the underskirts of your eyes, “i couldn’t wait any longer to see you. i think i would’ve died.”

billie pulled away from your embrace just enough to look at you, tears streaming down her face but a wide, disbelieving smile lighting up her features.

“hey… you lied to me.” her lips formed into a pout, her eyes blinking away tears as she pulled you in for a quick kiss, her lips tasting of salt and strawberry.

“i’m sorry bils, but i had to,” you said with a small laugh, shrugging your shoulders defensively, “it wouldn’t have been a surprise otherwise.”

“it’s okay, i’ll let this little one slide,” billie chucked, shaking her head as she wiped at her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie, “my god, i missed you so much.”

“i missed you more.” you whined, pulling her closer and leaning down to kiss her forehead.

maggie, patrick, and finneas clapped and cheered from the doorway, and billie turned to glare at them, a confused expression wiped on her face, “wait— what the fuck? you guys were in on this?”

“of course we were,” finneas grinned, beaming. “i was the first person that she told— you jealous?”

“shut up.” billie rolled her eyes, but she smiled as she turned back to you, “you’re not leaving again anytime soon, are you?”

“not for a while, baby,” you promised, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “i’m staying right here with you. promise.”

billie sighed, leaning her forehead against yours. “good. because i don’t think i can do that again. ever. i love you too much.”

you laugh sweetly, pulling billie closer,

“i love you so much more.”

send an ask to be added to my taglist !!

#‧₊˚✩ — 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒!#billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fic #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish blurbs #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish drabbles #billie eilish drabble

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scarletttries · 3 days ago

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Baldur's Gate 3 Companions Love Languages (Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Request: "hi! i loved reading your baldurs gate companions in love headcanons, i wanted to ask would it be okay if you wrote headcanons for what their love languages would be? or just how they would show love to their partner? thank you!"

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and reblogged my last Baldur's Gate post! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more pieces like this :)

Astarion:

- Astarion has always had a way with words, and there's no exception in the way he sings his praises of you. He is quick to tell you how you have won his favour, how he prefers you to any of his other travelling companions, how he looks forward to the moment you open your eyes each morning. He will come up with a thousand sweet pet names to lavish you with affection, her purring voice leaving no trace of doubt that he doesn't mean exactly what he says. And he takes a certain sick satisfaction in describing all the things he wants to do for you the moment you are left alone together, and watching the blood rise up to your cheeks, only making you more appetizing.

- After years of what felt like indentured servitude, Astarion always feels himself falling only more deeply in love when you do him little favours and acts of service. He never stops being surprised when you've set up his tent for him because he could tell he was battle-worn this evening, or when you fetch him a cup of wine before he's even realised he was actually quite thirsty. He's never had someone know him well enough to anticipate his needs, let alone selflessly step up to deliver those things wanting nothing in return but to see him happy and at ease. He can feel himself grow more trusting and open of you with every kind task you undertake.

Wyll:

- Wyll has lived a life subject to many stories, and finds himself weaving a new tapestry of tales with his Words whenever he speaks to you. A simple good morning is never enough, he must soliloquise on and on about the way it feels to wake beside you, and how each ray of sunlight captures your beauty in a thousand different ways. He will wax poetic as you stroll through the lands, letting you know exactly what he admires about you, and exactly what your future adventures together would mean to him. He wants nothing more than to tell you the story that he sees the two of you writing together, every sweet word just another reminder that there's never been anything more important to him than you.

- You can show Wyll how much you care about him by just being there and sticking by for all the quality time he needs. This may include a lot of listening to the heartbreaking tale of his father's scorn, and sitting in supportive silence as he tries to let go of some of the weight he has carried on his shoulders thus far. You also need to be willing to put in the time to learn a dance or two, the retracing of steps bringing warmth to Wyll's heart and flooding him with all the brightest memories of his childhood. And when the dances have your bodies twisting closer and closer then Wyll has another idea of how you can spend some quality time together.

Gale:

- While Gale does see himself as a man of adventure, he is first and foremost a scholar of the magical arts and that requires a certain amount of Quality Time spent with his books. As he makes space in his life and heart for you, he views his time with you as equally precious. He loves that you two can sit quietly next to each other reading for hours, or just swapping stories of your adventures. He knows if the gravity of it all is getting on top of him, he can pass an easy day resting his head in your lap while the two of you discuss what the future could hold for you, giving him reason after reason to keep on fighting and never surrender to ache in his chest. On the rare occasions that Gale has to spend the day away from you, prepare yourself for the most dramatic reunion you can imagine when he returns - sweeping you into his arms, ready to cling by your side as he tells you everything you missed while being apart.

- Gale has heard and read a lot of pretty words in his time, knowing they are often not to be trusted in their intended meaning. So rather than telling Gale you care, you find it much more effective to just show him with your touch. He's a needy boy at the best of times anyway, but with a gentle caress of your fingers over the nape of his neck you can render the chatty wizard speechless and completely entranced. It's difficult to overstate how much of Gale's day he spends thinking about when it all grows dark and finally he can retire into your bed roll and feel your skin pressed against his, feeling completely safe and content in your company.

Shadowheart:

- Despite having little to offer and no intrinsic idea of an item's value, Shadowheart finds herself compelled to offer you small gifts and tokens of affection as you travel together. It might be an especially well aged bottle of wine picked up while exploring some abandoned castle, a bottle she hopes the two of you can share as the sun is setting that night. It might be a resilient flower she sees sprouting from a hillside, she can't help but tuck it behind your ear and marvel at the way it draws out the highlights in your eyes. A cup of water from a glistening stream, a smooth pebble plucked from the shore, a sweet handful of berries found deep in a thicket. Her hand is constantly extending out towards you, with some small reminder that you are never far from her thoughts.

- So much of Shadowheart's life has a been shrouded in dishonesty and mystery, so when you speak to her with only kindness and truth she comes to really value those Words of Affirmation. Giving her your honest opinion, and letting her talk through whatever moral quandary is playing on her mind, will strengthen the deep understanding you share and remind her of the way you give her something no one else has before. Let her know you're thinking of her too, that you care about how she's doing, and you like her no matter what version of herself she is becoming, and Shadowheart will continue to open her heart and mind to you again and again.

Karlach:

- Karlach has always been a helpful soul, even if she's been misguided in the past about who she's been helping. So her favourite way to show you she cares is through Acts of Service, doing little tasks for you and reinforcing that your life will just be easier if you keep her around and ideally very close by. She is particularly happy when she gets to do something for you that doubles as an excuse to show off her statuesque build; reaching something off a high shelf, lifting some heavy boulder out of your way, carrying you in her arms when the day has been long and there's still a journey ahead of you. She feels like she needs to improve your life in all these tangible ways in order to let you know just how appreciated you are, even though it would be impossible to ever feel like you were being taken for granted by this loving soldier.

- After decades of burning ultimately hot because of the infernal engine in her chest Karlach has become used to being a certain level of touch-starved. But when you first celebrate her mended heart by throwing your arms over her shoulders, all that need and want come flooding back in a landslide and Karlach is sure she'll never be able to stop squeezing you again. Show Karlach love through physical affection and this fierce warrior will be melting like a puddle into your lap at the slightest touch. Wake her with a hug each morning, let her fingers grip your hand as you explore the treacherous world, squeeze her thigh as you settle round the campfire each evening. Remind her you're there, and let her cling to you in a way she has always craved, and you'll have a very happy Barbarian on your hands.

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angelicsnekgirlthing · 3 days ago

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@call-me-crazys-blog

This, my love, is how you make me feel.

I know it's odd to put it in a post like this but hear me out for a moment, all of you.

These heartwarming stories, these outstanding acts of kindness after the cruelty of a few men, this faith we've lost after looking at everything evil in the world and forgetting that light shines through the cracks of that concrete facade.

They remind me of you—Partially due to the rescue, how I have tried to help you, how you have helped me, and partially some of the examples given of love, kindness, effort; "Baked bread, shared a meal, looked at the stars and felt joy." Mundane, normal things for me. Things I see as average, but things that I do find happiness in; when we describe our love for you and your presence as mundane, we don't mean boring. We mean something so normal and natural, but something that every time we notice it again we can't help but smile.

Kindness is everywhere - We're both decently good at it, I think - And it can be seen more if we just keep living as we do. With and for one another, taking joy in the little things.

All the littol buggies, all the pretty fisheys, for example.

I'm grateful to know you, to be yours and for you to be mine,

and know that when I talk about just how happy you make me, remember this post — Not for the cruelty that began these stories, but for the kindness of the people who helped these pets and people through it. This is what I mean when I talk about how happy you make me. A heart-warm radiance, a gentle kindness as I am reminded that Hey, It Might Not Be So Bad, and the love of people.

I know life is hard, I know this world is scary, I know we see the cruelty in the world, but it's important we remember and act on the kindness we want to see, and add to what's already there.

“People are inherently terrible” no!!! Have you ever seen a child wait for their friend while they tie their shoelaces? Have you ever known someone who would bring hurt squirrels and rabbits and mice to the nearest vet just so it doesn’t suffer? Have you seen someone grieve? Have you ever read something that hit your heart like a freight train? Have you looked at the stars and felt an unexplainable joy? Have you ever baked bread? Have you shared a meal with a friend? Have you not seen it? All the love? All the good? I know it’s hard to see sometimes, I know there’s pain everywhere. But look, there’s a child helping another up after a hard fall. Look, there’s someone giving their umbrella to a stranger. Look, there’s someone admiring the spring flowers. Look, there’s good, there’s good, there’s good. Look!!!!

#cheesy ending there #but oh well #saw this and brain went brrrrr #anyway. hi random people ily #but i love my spouse more #i hope you don't mind :)#littol buggies #pretty fisheys #all the stars in the sky #all the atoms in the universe #none of it can contain the true extent of love

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krotiation · 3 days ago

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i'll genuinely never stop thinking about codependency in rhack and how it's mostly coming from jack's side. both jack and rhys treat their relationship like rhys is the one who needs jack to not just survive but also thrive, but it's really the opposite and i think that REALLY adds to how much jack twists the narrative to make it seem like rhys can't do anything without him just to keep giving rhys a reason to keep him around and trust him

#plus the irony of it all #being someones obsession and then becoming so dependent on that someone to the point of YOU becoming obsessed with THEM #i just love it #yeah im rambling about rhack again #every once in a while i get reminded of what makes them so damn interesting and i turn into a sucker #their dynamic is just soooo good and theres so much stuff to look into and dissect #and like there are moments in the game where jack does mention that he needs rhys alive to survive himself outloud #but its always when rhys is actively in danger #other than that its 'ill have your back' and 'ill get you whatever you want'#but honestly rhys does a pretty good job of keeping himself alive #and he does have fiona and co with him too who (as much as jack doesnt wanna believe it) have rhys' back too #i just think jack trying to isolate rhys from them to reel him in is so interesting and fucked up and i love it sm #and of course i cant make a rhack ramble post without mentioning the murder-suicide thing HAKGHD someone has to keep talking abt that #bc thats really the moment that cemented to me how personal jacks feelings towards rhys were #where jack reaches the point of rather wanting to die than let rhys walk away from him alive #I JUST GJKHKDJG not even in a romantic way. jack just needs rhys painfully much #it just gets 10 times spicier when you slap some romance in there too #rhack #txt #this is just a long winded way of saying jack is really clingy in a very ugly and fucked up way #and i love that abt him <3 genuinely it might be my favorite part of his character

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kaisaerinlover · 5 hours ago

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the kaisaerinsagi rivalry goes so hard like imagine dating them (seperate of course) and you’re out wearing one of their jerseys whilst you’re shopping, and they all have a number one on their jerseys (3 number 10s 😭😭) so the press mistakes you as one of the other’s girlfriend instead of his and he gets soo mad.

imagine sae’s reaction to the public thinking you’re dating isagi or someone, he wouldn’t even be mad just jealous. “huh? how can anyone even get me and that lukewarm striker confused. our jerseys aren’t even the same colour.” he’s genuinely baffled, and he’s not trying to be insulting either; he’s just speaking his truth. he knows you’re his, but he’s so lost at how they could ever confuse you as the girlfriend of one of those other 3 idiots. his face is just blank, the same as always, and you just laugh a bit. and he’s even more confused now, what’s so funny? “why are you laughing?” he would ask, whilst giving you that same blank stare. oh sae itoshi PLEASE never change. you just laugh again and pinch his cheeks like he’s a baby and give him a kiss. “no reason, love you” he just rolls his eyes at you and pecks your cheek back. “i’m being serious, you know.” itoshi sae never change please you’re too cute.

rin would be the opposite, having everyone thinking you were dating isagi or sae especially makes him so angry. “tsk, those lukewarm idiots. how tepid. why would you ever date someone as low level and shit as them. fucking stupid.” he’s seething, to put it very very lightly. he’s holding you against the wall as you’re still in his jersey, giving YOU the dead eye, as if you somehow orchestrated this huge misunderstanding. rin is a jealous guy, he really is; and the only thing he truly won for himself is you. so when it’s even suggested you could be in the hands of those other two losers he feels his insides tie themselves up into a knot of pure and unbridled anger. “r-rin you’re hurting meee” you whine up at him as he presses you against the wall harder and bites at your fragile neck. “no, need to show everyone you’re mine” oh rin-rin, you’re so jealous. he is truly the cutest. with those killer eyes but really cute pout and the way his hair falls over his face making him look like a stupid emo, itoshi rin you will never win the idgaf war.

isagi wouldn’t be as mad, he would be a bit of both, confused but a little jealous. “how can they even mistake the number 11 for any of THEIR numbers anyway???” he’s so confused, everyone is contemplating whether you’re dating him, kaiser, sae or rin. it’s obviously him? come on, he is number 11 and only him and kaiser share the same jersey as of now, how stupid? he’s following you around the house like a puppy asking you these questions nonstop, you can tell he’s jealous. he has his cute scowl as he’s asking. “yoichi i really don’t know-“ he interrupts you. “maybe your hair was covering the other 1? that has to be it. fine, next time don’t leave the house without a ponytail or i’ll-“ you just shut him up with a kiss, and when you pull away you giggle up at him. “i know i know, you don’t gotta be so jealous y’know, next time i go out i’ll make sure to show off your number ‘kay yoichi?” and he’s happy with that. isagi yoichi’s smile is so precious, it really is. he pulls you in for another kiss. “yeah, okay, want everyone to know you’re my girlfriend only.” even his jealousy is cute. isagi is simply just the cutest boyfriend in the world.

kaiser would not be like the others. if rin’s anger was nasty imagine kaiser’s, he would be literally losing his mind. sitting in his fancy robe sipping champagne with his glasses whilst having ness next to him, using the tv remote to go through all of the posts and theories being posted online. kaiser is madddd mad. he slams his fist down on the arm of the chair and growls a bit. “really, yoichi? fucking yoichi? and that shithead from pxg who can’t even keep his tongue in his mouth? the other itoshi brother? please, when i get into re al all he’s going to be doing is feeding me passes anyway” he scoffs. and ness diligently nods. “yeah, they’re all shit, shitty trash and below you kaiser!” and as kaiser sends ness off to go pour him another glass, you walk into the room. it’s just you two now, and boy is he angry. “have you fucking seen this, prinzessin? what insanity this is” he laughs a little. but he’s not humoured, you really love kaiser but jesus christ he acts like a fucking psycho sometimes. “i have” he just looks at you annoyed again, but still wearing that freakish smile. ew. “and why did you let your hair cover MY number? MY name? are you not proud to wear the jersey of a prodigy? are you fucking stupid or something.” he’s so condescending, pulling your hair again now. “m-micha- was an accident- was windy- c’mon stop- won’t happen again” and he releases his grip just a bit. he takes a sip of the very last droplets of champagne in his glass and looks at you again. “mmm, sorry engel, you know how i get, just love you soo much” he coos at you sweetly. and you fall for it every time. “it’s okay love you too micha.” and you really do know how he gets, as you walk past the room, you brush past ness a bit as he’s bringing kaiser back another bottle of champagne. you shudder, you’ve heard how your boyfriend treats that boy sometimes, you’re thankful you’re on the receiving end of his sweetness and not whatever that is. poor guy, you think as you walk out and shut the door behind you.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #sae itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #kaiser michael x reader #jealous blue lock #itoshi sae x reader #rin x reader #sae x reader

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wooyoungisbaby · 19 hours ago

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Igby hi!!!

I know i like, don’t owe you an explanation that i haven’t commented as per usual on the last couple of chapters but i wanted to tell you anyway ;;; i’ve simply been like. doing bad dhdgjnfhjg i’ve lacked the motivation to do a lot of things, and one of those things is comment properly. But we’re back!! And what a treat this looks like it’s going to be. The word count alone aaAAAA

LOVE the beginning of this chapter. Spin-off chapter? Post-epilogue? xD Regardless, it’s lovely and refreshing with the reminder that Wooyoung is an absolute treasure and that he’ll just ask for what he wantss. King. San pretending to be tired of him too hdjnfhjs<3 sillie

partner-in-kink

LOVE THIs jghfjghf

Not them actually having a moving day bingo card pffff that’s amazing

“…You trust me that much?”

:’))))))))))

you’re not about to get into trouble just because Wooyoung can’t keep his hands to himself.

doubt.jpg

Mullet woo!!!!! thank you igby for this gift :’D

Yunho is also in black, decked out in a full suit.

…didn’t mean to moan out loud, my bad.

“Poor thing, were you close?”

same comment as above

San is hunched over him, grunting as he finger-fucks him hard, his free hand pinning Wooyoung’s thigh to hold him down as he jerks and cries out at the punishing pace.

oh m y god. fuck. that’s so hot. i’m glad Reader had a peek and was able to describe this very important scene.

You whimper, fully expecting to see fury in his eyes — and are thrown completely off balance when Yunho is pouting cutely instead.

Bahahaaah no but that’s perfect<3 He’s a big intimidating guy but he’s also babie, a little bit. sometimes.

“I bet all it takes is one needy look from those pretty eyes and he’s right down on his knees for you.”

i love everything surrounding this line. Yunho hitting the nail on the head, Wooyoung’s cackle, San’s weak ass attempt at denying it

“Didn’t mean to break the rule, I swear,” you babble, “made me feel so good, filling me up like that”

Reader is so cute here = u= just a little silly

“I was gonna let you watch San make a mess of Wooyoung’s pretty tits, but no”

genuinely devastating. i would cry

“What’s this mean streak all of a sudden, San-ah? Trying to prove you’re not such a softie after all?”

jJDHFJSHDFJh the roastening <3 i’m glad San is secure in himself and his abilities to the point where they can joke around like this ehehe

The “crescendo” of this first round was so fucking good, with Reader and Yunho watching woosan = u= San was the perfect amount of mean and rough. He smacked Woo’s cock into orgasm?? hello???? And Woo was beautifully wrecked. Such a little mess <3

“Can’t wait to see if our babygirl really has what it takes to handle that big cock, or if it’s just empty bragging. Yunho’s not gonna take it easy on him.”

DYING for the way they talk about Woo like he isn’t there. Vague objectification vibes, which is a sure 10/10 kink for me personally.

[WY] “Please just put it in, please please—”

he’s so desperate iM……. aaaaaaa he’s so cute wtf

“When Wooyoung eats you out? Is he any good, sweetheart?”

jnhhhj once again with the talking about him like he isn’t there. chef’s kiss.

IGBY!!! Wooyoung all but sobbing underneath Yunho as he’s trying to fit inside him, the emphasis on how small he is in comparison, ho wrecked he is 😭it’s so good

He just gives you a breathless giggle, too fucked out for a verbal response — a rarity.

:O yunho really fucked the sass out of him. incredible.

The brief YunSan praise and kiss were so lovely = u= i bet it’s so nice for San to have that bit of verbal approval from his “mentor” even though he’s a full fledged dom of his own now!

“This again? Sannie, what do you think?” “She’s fine.”

once again: sry didn’t mean to moan uwu

Of course theyre watching spiderman ahahaaah <3

whichever way: crossed roads [yunwoosan x reader]

pairing: yunwoosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff

wc: 15k

summary: Yunho never got to have the threesome he wanted with San and Wooyoung — but he sees no reason to complain, not when he gets to have a foursome with you instead.

note: this is a oneshot sequel to my series whichever way. imo it’s prob more fun w/ context & the start will be less confusing, but this fic is like 90% sex so if you’re just here for the smut then i’m sure you’ll still have a good time ♡(>ᴗ•)

warnings: OH BOY GET READY. foursome, dom Yunho & San, sub Wooyoung & reader, m x m, triple penetration (you have three holes for a reason), bigdick San but monstercock Yunho, voyeur reader, soft cnc play, body worship, hand kink, dirty talk, subspace, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hand-on-throat, choking, dumbification, objectification, praise & degradation kink, spanking, pussy slap, cock slap, fake sweet Yunho my beloved, reader wears a babydoll, tie as an improvised blindfold, partially clothed sex, blowjob / face fucking, cum play, footjob (reader receiving) (sorry not sorry), dacryphilia, thigh-fucking, cockwarming, vaginal/anal fingering/sex, cumshots, creampies, buttplug (for Woo), mention of fisting, lowkey marathon sex, no condom in sight, nicknames for reader (good/pretty girl, sweetheart, baby, pervert, cockslut, toy, cocksleeve), aftercare, off-screen kink negotiation

a/n: features a soft-bodied aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns & is in an established QPR w/ Woosan. she’s called ‘little’ but like cute/demeaning, not a reflection on physical size

a/n²: anyway this fic is for the readers who love their rightful place on the fujoshi throne, but also want to be worshipped in the center of attention like the royalty they are <3

“So uh… is having sex together still on the table?”

Wooyoung looks around him expectantly. The grin on his face is cheeky, but the question completely serious.

“Woo, really?” San pinches the bridge of his nose, his cheeks still flushed, but he’s slowly recovering from the the series of curve balls thrown past him in the past minute.

Meanwhile, you are struck by the most intense feeling of deja vu, a memory echoing through your head of that fated question Wooyoung once asked you:

“Did you like the view?”

…Well. You had just been staring at Yunho’s hands. You glance at him again, his handsome face and soft tousled hair, the easygoing confidence with which he holds himself — and you can’t deny that you also like this view very much indeed.

Yunho bursts out in a surprised laugh at Wooyoung’s question, hiding his mouth behind one of those distractingly large hands. “Hey now, you aren’t saying that out of pity, are you!”

“Pity?” Wooyoung snorts, offended at the suggestion. “Come on Yunho, you know me better than that.”

“Hm, I guess you’re right, I do,” Yunho hums, contemplative. His eyes, usually bright and alive with joy, are now pinned on you with dark interest, studying your reaction to all of this.

You shiver at his intense gaze, wondering if the hard glint in Yunho’s gaze is a glimpse of what he’s like as a dom.

You’ve asked San questions about his past with Yunho, of course, but never pressed beyond what he willingly shared. Instead you buried your curiosity; you always assumed you’d never experience them as a team in the bedroom anyway, so why torture yourself with impossible fantasies?

But that is where Wooyoung is different from you; the bold, wise, Wooyoung, who knows better than to make assumptions. Who knows you can always just ask.

(Fuck, you need to thank him later.)

Now all your dormant curiosity comes flooding to the surface, giving your vivid imagination free reign. You swallow and reflexively reach up to brush your hand over your throat, wondering what it’d feel like to have those long fingers there instead.

Yunho’s eyes follow the movement, burning heat into your skin. His tongue prods the inside of his cheek, so briefly you almost miss it, then he turns to San.

“Well, how about it, San-ah?” he says, a playful grin curling around his lips. “A reunion, for old time’s sake?”

San lets out a deep, slow sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. But it’s not a ‘no’; you recognise the look in his eyes for what it is. Fluster, yes — but his embarrassment is rapidly overwhelmed by something else entirely, sharp and smouldering. You’ve often seen that look on him before, for the first time right after Wooyoung asked you how you liked the view, so long ago by now.

Seems like San likes the view too.

“Fuck, you guys are unbelievable,” he breathes with a wry chuckle, biting his lip as he looks over you, Wooyoung and Yunho. “Yeah. Why the hell not? Let’s fucking do it.”

It just doesn’t seem right, but somehow life still goes on as normal after an earth-shaking conversation like that. So there you are the next afternoon, unpacking the last boxes from the move like it’s a perfectly ordinary day.

Wooyoung is already back to work at the flower store so it’s just you and San, filling up the half-empty bookcase. Each of you are going through a pile of games; you are sorting tabletop games, while San handles the console ones.

But while life might appear to go on like normal, there are definitely a few charged looks between you and San. Like you’re sizing each other up all over again, imagining all the ways he could wreck you with the help of his old partner-in-kink. A faint buzz of anticipation tingles across your skin, your mind constantly gliding away from the stack of cardgames that you’re supposed to organise.

Not much has been set in stone yet; you couldn’t exactly hash out all the dirty details on the spot, on a balcony with the door wide open and half your friends right inside. Instead Yunho promised he’d check his work calendar and text to set a date for a proper talk tomorrow, and that was the end of it for that day.

(The end of talking about it, at least. Your thoughts had still been going a thousand miles an hour, even into the night. You did have a relaxed morning with San and Wooyoung, quietly celebrating your first breakfast in the new apartment with a big spread of food, but now those thoughts are picking up speed again.)

“So. Yunho, huh?” you finally say, trying to sound casual as you speak the unspoken between you and San.

He snorts. “Yeah. Yunho. Gotta say, didn’t have that on my bingo card for our official moving in day.”

“And what a shame too,” you shake your head with a dramatic sigh. “You came so close to winning!” (But Wooyoung had taken the victory when ‘Seonghwa knocks over a pot of paint’ gave him a full column down the middle of his card.)

“Don’t remind me!” San pouts. “All I needed was you breaking a glass or a mug, I thought I had it for sure. You really let me down there.”

“Pff what? Sorry I guess??” you say, rolling your eyes, but then give him a cheeky little grin. “What are you gonna do, punish me for not being clumsy enough?”

San raises an interested eyebrow. “Could, yeah…” he says, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip in consideration. “Could even ask Yunho to lend me a hand, I suppose.”

A heat creeps up your neck. “A hand, huh?” you say, trying and failing to sound casual.

“Yeah, you like his hands, right?” he grins.

You let out an embarrassed groan. “Ugh, am I really that obvious?”

“Eh, to be fair, not many people who don’t likes Yunho’s hands,” San says, but his grin widens before you can rejoice too much. “But yes, yes you are. Totally obvious.”

You shoot him a heavy side-look. “Don’t get too cocky, mister ‘openly checked out my ass the day after he moved in next-door to me’!”

“What can I say, it’s a good ass!” he laughs, rosy blush colouring his cheeks. Still, San gives you a thoughtful once-over. “So, is that the kinda direction you’d like this to go in? Might be useful if we hash out some of that stuff among ourselves before we do any negotiation with Yunho.”

“Oh! Actually, about that…”

“Hm?” San encourages you, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

You bite your lip. A thought had struck you yesterday, after you and the guys had gone back to work. A thought that hasn’t let go of you since then.

“Well, you trust Yunho, right? As a dominant?”

“Completely,” San says without hesitation. “Wouldn’t let him in the room with you and Wooyoung if I didn’t.”

“Then… are you okay with it if I sit the negotiation out? Leave things up to you guys?”

San frowns, a mixture of surprise and confusion. “You… don’t want a say in what’ll happen?” he says, looking at you so intently that a wave of self-consciousness washes over you.

“Yeah, kinda? It’s just— It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone but you and Wooyoung, and there’s something exciting about an unknown factor in the bedroom, you know? Not that I’m bored with you!” you add quickly, not wanting San to get the wrong idea. He can be a little sensitive, sometimes. “But… I just like the idea of not knowing Yunho. What kind of dom he is, what things he’s into, what he will do. Does that makes sense?”

Even now, you absent-mindedly rub your thighs together, feeling yourself get worked up at the thrill of the unknown. To have no idea how San and Yunho plan to break you down into bite-sized pieces for their enjoyment, or all the ways you’ll get to watch them do the same to Wooyoung, fucking the brat out of him until even the insatiable is sated.

“Hmm, yeah, makes sense,” San nods, looking you over thoughtfully. “So you want me to talk with Yunho for you then? …You trust me that much?”

There is a softness to his question, touched to have your safety and pleasure placed into his hands — but the flicker of heat behind his eyes does not go unnoticed either. Trust is important to San, more than anything else, and you can tell this does something to him on multiple levels, some of which have nothing to do with softness.

You give him a crooked grin. “Hey. Wouldn’t let you in the room with me if I didn’t.”

San rolls his eyes at your teasing, but his lips can’t help a happy, pleased grin. “Okay, yeah I’m in,” he says, anticipation deepening his voice as his gaze wanders over your body, your skin prickling wherever his eyes go. “I’ll ask Yunho if he’s alright with it too.”

Excitement flutters in your stomach at his intense look. Maybe these cardgames can wait a while longer before putting them away…

Just as you’re about to super subtly suggest to take a break, both of your phones suddenly buzz in quick succession. Must be Wooyoung, you think, sending you a selfie from work or something — but no, it’s not Wooyoung.

The text is from Yunho; he has added you, San and Wooyoung to a new groupchat so you can discuss a date together.

“Woah, he’s quick,” you say, taken aback by Yunho’s reliability on the follow-through. When he said he’d text tomorrow, you figured he meant that in the traditional ‘I fully intend to text tomorrow but I’ll probably forget and get back to you in like a week or so’-way.

“You know what? I’ll try calling him right now,” San says, getting up on his feet. “Ask him how he feels about surprising you.”

You bite your lip as San heads to the balcony to make his call; tempted to stop him so he can help you out with this unrelenting heat building up in your core. Damn, maybe the men in your life are a little too reliable on the follow-through.

Undoubtedly they’ll be one hell of a pair… and you’ll have no idea of their plans for you and Wooyoung.

Wooyoung whistles lowly when you step into his and San’s bedroom, and he looks you over with an admiring grin. “Very nice,” he says, drinking in every detail of your sheer lace babydoll in the dimmed light. “Knew I made the right choice.”

The lace, a see-through deep purple, leaves very little to the imagination. Thin straps hold up the negligee, the cups snugly hugging your breasts. Wooyoung lingers on the plunging neckline, his fingers twitching when he notices how your nipples show through the lace. Then his eyes trail further down, to the skirt that barely covers your upper thighs.

You do a little twirl just for show; and it lifts the hemline even higher, giving Wooyoung an unobstructed glimpse of the matching panties underneath.

Usually you don’t fuss too much with lingerie, but it is a special occasion. Wooyoung even picked it out himself. He casually admitted a curiosity for seeing you dolled up in something sexy, after which you obviously had no other choice but to drag him into a store for some shopping.

(He’d been unexpectedly serious about the task, with not a single pervy comment during the whole shopping trip. Instead he perused the store with his brow deeply furrowed, committed to finding something that’d suit you perfectly — and that he did.)

“Now I get why you didn’t let me take a peek in the changing room,” Wooyoung hums, eyes dark. He steps in closer to run his hands over your sides, getting a feel of the textured lace. “Looks even better on you than it did on the rack. Well… the store rack.” He licks his lips, thumbs brushing against the underside of your breasts.

Ah, there are the pervy comments. “Lech,” you snort in amusement, but still push his hands down. San had clearly instructed you and Wooyoung to wait, and you’re not about to get into trouble just because Wooyoung can’t keep his hands to himself.

“What? I’m just being appreciative,” Wooyoung says with a wide grin, his fingers now playing with the bottom edge of the babydoll. “Don’t get to see you like this every day.”

“Hm, this isn’t a bad view either,” you admit, eyeing Wooyoung. He’s temptation itself, every inch of him seducing you to defy San’s instructions yourself.

He’s wearing black leather pants, the pair he only hoists himself into when he’s extra keen to impress, combined with an ivory white mesh shirt, oversized and clinging attractively to his shoulders. Usually Wooyoung wears another shirt underneath the mesh, but now only his tan skin peeks through the loosely woven threads. He even got a fresh haircut today — you’d been sceptical when he said he wanted ‘a mullet, kinda’, but now? Now you feel strongly compelled to write his hairdresser a passionate thankyou-note.

You didn’t think it was possible for Wooyoung to reach even higher levels of allure, but the way the long black strands curl against his neck, enough length left on the bangs to fall into his eyes… You haven’t been able to stop touching his hair all day, much to Wooyoung’s poorly-faked chagrin.

(He definitely has the worst poker face you’ve ever seen, constant smiles bullying their way onto his lips whenever you ‘nagged’ him to play with his hair.)

“So you still don’t know what’s gonna happen today, huh?” Wooyoung asks, a dangerous spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Well,” you say, tapping your bottom lip as though deep in thought, “I do have this nagging suspicion we might be having sex. Just an educated guess.”

Wooyoung lets out a breathy chuckle. His fingertips skim over your plush thighs. “Yeah. Maybe.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, looking you up-and-down like you’re a tasty morsel for his consumption. “Or maybe they’ll only let you watch. Sit back while they have their way with me.”

He tugs you a little closer, his mesh shirt brushing up against your lacy bodice. Is he trying to rile you up, or himself?

Your stomach clenches at the thought of only being a spectator. “San wouldn’t be that mean to me, that’s more his style with you,” you argue, but there is a flicker of doubt in your mind. San knows damn well how much you get out of a little voyeurism, so it’s not an impossibility. Often it’d be a source of excitement — but today you’re definitely aching for a little attention yourself.

Wooyoung ignores your objections, too caught up in his little fantasy. “Apparently Yunho is a big boy,” he breathes in your ear, raising goosebumps on your skin, “big everywhere. Sannie says I might not be able to handle him. Want to watch me prove him wrong, see how Yunho stretches me open with that monster cock?”

He giggles at your soft whine, your back involuntarily arching into him.

“Yeah, you’d like that,” Wooyoung murmurs, and presses a firm kiss on your neck. “But it’d be mean to neglect you completely, wouldn’t it? Maybe we should have some fun now, just to be sure.”

Your breath catches as his hands slip under your babydoll, squeezing the back of your thick thighs. His fingers graze against the edge of your panties, perilously close to where heat has started to pool between your legs.

“Wooyoung, no,” you say, reluctantly pushing back against his chest. “S-San told us to wait for him and Yunho.”

“Yeah, so? We can do stuff while we wait.”

Your exasperated laugh comes out as a moan when he nips at your earlobe. “Pff, come on Woo, that’s not what he meant and you know it!”

You make a noise of surprise when Wooyoung suddenly falls down to his knees. “Did he really?” Wooyoung purrs, dangerously, staring up at you with hunger burning in his eyes. “How do you know this isn’t part of today’s plan?”

Wooyoung does not give you time to think about it, pressing his face against your stomach and moaning in adoration of your curves. He mouths at your skin through the chemise, sucking at a soft stomach fold before he gives it a cheeky bite. Wooyoung has never made a secret of how much he loves your body, loves all the places he can sink his teeth into; he made that perfectly clear ever since the first time he laid his hands on you.

“F-fuck, Wooyoung…” you gasp. “I-is it? Part of their plan?”

Wooyoung just hums, continuing to worship you through the lace fabric. Nudging you to spread your legs, his mouth slowly travelling down.

It’s when his fingers brush against the damp spot on your panties that you snap back into reality. “Oh my god, it totally isn’t, right?” you laugh, tangling your fingers through his long hair to pull him away. “You’re just trying to get me into trouble, you pest!”

You playfully scold him, lightly smacking at his wandering hand.

Wooyoung pulls back reluctantly, not a trace of remorse in his wicked smile. “What can I say? Damned if I do, bored if I don’t,” he grins up at you. “But in my defence… it was part of the plan.”

He tilts his head to shoot a meaningful glance past you, at the bedroom door behind.

You turn around on reflex — and startle at the sight of San leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, with Yunho towering right behind him.

“See? Told you,” San says to Yunho, a hint of smugness in his voice.

Yunho cocks his head as he studies the scene in front of him, interest shining in his eyes. “Yeah, you did,” he says, his gaze settling on you.

Both of them are dressed smartly, to the point of intimidating; San wears a crisp black dress shirt and black trousers to match. The top buttons of his shirt are opened, and a simple silver chain hangs around his neck with a small, rectangular tag that rests neatly on his bare chest. He’s rolling up his sleeves, drawing attention to his muscular forearms.

Yunho is also in black, decked out in a full suit. His slacks and fitted jacket have a subtle pinstripe that make him look even taller than he already is, with a dark tie and waistcoat underneath. Thick silver rings glitter on Yunho’s long fingers as he rubs his chin, his eyes burning into you.

“In front of the bed, Wooyoung. On your knees,” San orders sharply. “You had your fun, now it’s our turn.”

Wooyoung shoots you one last, brash grin. He pinches your thigh before he does as instructed, eager to let the others have their ‘fun’.

But San saunters over to you first. He has one hand stuffed in his pocket, running two fingertips over his bottom lip as he circles you, inspecting you almost casually.

“Pretty,” he finally says, coming to a stop right in front of you to rub the sheer fabric between his fingers. San’s arm flexes as he moves, his black shirt wrapped snugly around his biceps — and there is something maddening about the knowledge he needed to have it custom fitted, his shoulders too wide for most off-the-shelf dress shirts.

“Be nice to Yunho, hm?” he says, not even looking at your face, more interested in the generous exposure of cleavage. “Don’t think I won’t be keeping an eye on you just because Wooyoung’s got my cock down his throat. Best behaviour.”

“I will, Sannie,” you hum, a warm flutter in your chest at the hidden reassurance of him watching you. “I’ll behave.”

San pecks your cheek and walks past you to sit down on the bed in front of Wooyoung, legs spread as he runs his hand through Wooyoung’s long hair. Excitement sparks through you at the thought of what they’re about to do — but you’re distracted from the thought when a big, warm hand comes to rest on the small of your back.

“Come,” Yunho rasps by your ear, giving you a little push towards the bed. “Let’s get to know each other a little more.”

You follow meekly, hypnotised by the heavy gravitational pull of his aura, intense and shrouded in mystery. Everything about him is unknown, except that San trusts him implicitly; which means that you do too.

The dark sheets rustle as Yunho tugs you onto the bed with him, guiding you into his lap as he sits up against the headboard.

You settle on Yunho’s thighs, your heart thumping a little louder at the close proximity. You’ve only ever seen Yunho in casual clothes; and he’s already devastating enough like that, a walking personification of the ‘sweet boy next door’-vibe — but the fitted suit hits different.

There’s a cocky, pleased smile on Yunho’s lips at your blatant ogling. He strokes your cheek, his large palm easily cupping your face. A budding fire sparks to life under his touch, fuelled by the skitter of excited nerves at his undivided attention.

Behind you, you hear the faint wet noises of Wooyoung presumably sucking San off; San is groaning lowly, mumbling filthy encouragements to Wooyoung that you can’t quite make out. It’s more than a little distracting, your gaze threatening to drift towards them — until Yunho clasps your chin and guides you back, not as gentle as he could have been.

“Eyes on me,” Yunho warns, raising an eyebrow. He slowly rubs your leg, causing the skirt of your babydoll to bunch at your hips. “You can do that for me, can you?” His thumb digs into your inner thigh. “San told me you’re his good girl. That you listen well.”

You bite your lip at his intense gaze. The sounds behind you fade away into background noise, completely overpowered by the loudness of his thumb grazing against the lace of your panties. Your brain feels a little frazzled already.

“S-San treats me right,” you say, like you owe Yunho some kind of explanation.

Dark eyes pierce into you. “Oh? What if I don’t want to treat you right, though?” Yunho muses, reaching for your neck. “What if I want to tease you until you can’t take it anymore, and then a little more, just because I think you’ll look cute when you squirm and cry?” Ringed fingers drag over the delicate skin of your throat, like he’s testing the fit of his hand. “Would you still be good for me?”

Heat pulses through your blood, focused on where his hand rests. Your lips part to answer him, but all that comes out is a small whimper, your hips shifting in his lap through no choice of your own.

Yunho’s smile widens.

In the past, you’ve caught glimpses of something darker behind Yunho’s golden retriever brightness; but the sweet pup has now disappeared completely, leaving you face-to-face with a shadowed predator, hunger in his eyes. Ready to sink his claws into you.

“You don’t know?” he asks, tilting his head, a taunt hidden in the question. “Hm, you’re a little slow, aren’t you? Guess I’ll have to find out for myself. Let’s see if you can follow one simple instruction.”

“O-one?” You jolt when the nail of Yunho’s thumb scrapes over your panties, dangerously close to your clit.

“Just one,” Yunho hums. “San told me you like to watch him fuck Wooyoung and, well… clearly that’s true. But you’re all mine for now, and I want your full attention. You’re not allowed to look until my say-so, understand? I think you owe me that, for getting to play with them before I did.”

A flash of distress shoots through you at the thought of severing that visual line of connection with San, your trusted, familiar dominant. “But— But San—”

“I’m right here, baby,” San interrupts, his voice coming from right behind you, breath laboured. His hand brushes over the small of your back. “I’ll be here, the entire time. Told you I’d be keeping an eye out, didn’t I? Do as Yunho says.”

San’s firm tone wipes your mind blank, his order flooding through you with tingling warmth. Any illusion of control is gently taken from your hands; you are not in charge here.

“I won’t, promise,” you say, breathless already as your eyes catch Yunho’s, gleaming in dark approval. A pleasant floatiness starts to fill your head like cotton candy. “I won’t look.”

Yunho squeezes your thigh, taking in your show of submission like he’s searching for something. Whatever it is that he needs, Yunho seems to find it in the hazy smile spread across your face.

“Yeah. I’m going to kiss you now,” he says quietly, matter-of-fact; already knowing you will let him.

Despite his warning, your breath still hitches in surprise when Yunho leans forward and — instead of kissing your lips like you expected — his hot mouth presses against your neck. He cradles the back of your head, tongue darting out to taste your quickening pulse.

You whine and instinctively roll your hips into his lap, gasping a quiet “oh fuck” when you press against a sizeable bulge through Yunho’s slacks. The outline only gives you a suggestion of scale, but that is more than enough already; Wooyoung was not messing with you when he called Yunho a ‘big boy’.

Yunho huffs a laugh against your neck as you rock into him. “Needy girl,” he chides, but his hand on your thigh slides back to your ass, encouraging you to move as you please.

And what pleases you is urgency, swirling your hips in rapidly growing desperation. You moan against his mouth when Yunho’s lips finally meet yours in a series of hard, messy kisses, only spurring you on more. His cock twitches against your clothed cunt, and you’re struck with the daunting realisation that he’s not even fucking hard yet.

Behind you, Wooyoung whimpers loudly again, piercing through the fog — but this time you don’t turn around, kissing Yunho harder instead, sucking his tongue into your mouth. You grind into his lap with single-minded need, chasing sharp sparks of pleasure as Yunho matches your frantic rhythm.

Slowly, slick leaks through your panties and dirties his fancy slacks. All inhibitions gone, you push his jacket off his shoulders. Yunho temporarily breaks his hold on you to throw it aside, ignoring how the jacket lands on the floor. You fumble with his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, but eventually manage to reveal a smooth expanse of skin for you to run your hands over. Yunho groans at the touch, his head falling back.

Somewhere in a far distance you can still hear Wooyoung, his moans mingled with dirty wet squelches set in a fast, ruthless pace. You can’t help but respond to his whiny moans with your own, like a desperate call-and-answer between you, but you still don’t look away from Yunho.

“San was right,” Yunho says, eyes lidded as he smiles lazily at your resolve to obey his rule. “You are a good girl after all. So well-behaved for me, aren’t you?”

He delights at how you cry out when he grabs your waist, forcing you to stay in place. “Y-yeah, for you, only you…” you gasp, slumping in surrender of his strong grip.

“Then tell me,” he murmurs, hot breath fanning over your face, “which hole do you want my fingers to stretch out first?”

Something short-circuits in your brain at the word ‘first’. You whimper as Yunho nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it with his teeth. The decision comes easily, driven by a desperate need for release. “Pussy, please Yunho, need you inside me…”

Yunho’s dark smile widens.

“Good,” he rasps, and boldly cups your clothed mound, “I’ve always wondered what’s so special about this pussy. Just one look at that needy hole and those two couldn’t stay away from you, could they? Always coming back for more until they couldn’t let go of you at all.”

He absent-mindedly toys with your sodden panties through his musings, rubbing his fingertips over your covered slit. You whine and arch your back, shuddering at the indirect contact.

“So sensitive,” Yunho grins. “This’ll be fun.” Finally he pulls the lace aside, and plunges his middle finger right in your drenched cunt.

Immediately Yunho sets a hard pace. He alternates between hard thrusts and delicious curls of his finger, quickly sliding in a second. The stretch has you keening; already you feel the difference between Yunho’s fingers with his thick rings compared to San or Wooyoung’s, hitting deeper inside your twitching cunt.

Yunho keeps your chin tilted up to ply your lips with languid kisses, intense and breathtaking; and a dizzying contrast with the ruthless slam of his wrist. You match his thrusts with shameless abandon, your loud moans almost enough to drown out the wet smacking sounds coming from San and Wooyoung behind you.

Your voice cracks on a strangled cry at a press of Yunho’s fingers against your g-spot, and he giggles at the discovery. “Yeah? That feels good right there?” he asks, his voice sweetly mocking as he hones in on the bundle of nerves. “Fuck, I was right; you do look cute when you squirm. Give me a little more, you can take it. Let’s get you nice and loose for me.”

Dizzy on the burn, you pant slack-jawed against Yunho’s mouth when he adds a third finger, your throbbing walls straining against the intrusion. Your toes curl with every brush of his thumb against your clit, warmth spreading through your body as the overwhelming barrage of sensations crashes over you. Your moans go up in pitch, thighs shaking — until suddenly Yunho’s fingers slow down, shifting away from that perfect angle.

“Poor thing, were you close?” Yunho coos when you sob at the receding high. Gently he strokes your hair, like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you. “So clumsy of me, not letting you cum. Here, let me make it up to you, hm? Yeah, that’s it.”

You arch into him with a needy whine when his free hand palms your breast, squeezing harshly. Yunho bends down to suck your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the lace-covered bud. The textured fabric adds to the intensity of his attention, scraping over your skin as he sucks and bites at your tit, drenching the lace with his spittle.

He starts moving his fingers again, curling them in the exact way that had you trembling earlier, and this time he does not stop. You clutch onto his shoulders for dear life, whimpering helplessly as the sharp sparks of overstimulation set in. Your body is hypersensitive from the denial and Yunho gave you no time to come down from it, ruthlessly pushing you towards your limit.

“Too much,” you whine when a fourth finger prods at your entrance, its burn setting you aflame. “Fuck, Y-Yunho, I’m—hmn!— ‘s t-too much, ah ah ahh—”

Yunho releases your nipple from his mouth with a wet ‘pop’, looking up at you with dark, glimmering eyes. “Don’t give me that,” he chastises. “It’s not. Because when I asked San if you could handle this, he said you can. And we both know that he knows your body better than you do.” Yunho’s voice is low with a hardened edge. “So no. It’s not ‘too much’. Just be good and take one more.”

San. San said you can take it. Your brain is like mush, a dazed fog clouding your thoughts. You take it. Not your place to think about these things. It’s not too much. San said so.

You sink freely into the needling blend of pain and pleasure, surrendering yourself to it as you fuck yourself open on four of Yunho’s fingers. San was right; it’s not long before the pain fades, and the only burn left is that of pure bliss.

(There is rustling behind you, the bed sinking under added weight. San growls something inaudible, Wooyoung mewls wretchedly in response. You want to look. You don’t look.)

“See?” Yunho chuckles as you pant against his shoulder, shamelessly humping his hand. “You don’t know the first thing about what you need. Drooling on my shirt while that pretty pussy drools on my fingers. So fucking wet, what a desperate cunt you have. Fucking filthy.”

Your hips jerk when his thumb finds your clit again. The haze of pleasure coils into a tight wire, thrumming through your body. Your pace grows sloppier, erratic, but Yunho is right there, picking up the slack. His free hand kneads the nape of your neck while the other slams into you with rough snaps of his wrist. White-hot pleasure bursts in your core, flooding your system as you cry out hoarsely, your fingers clamping onto Yunho’s jacket as you clench around him with stuttered thrusts, tears brimming on your lashes.

Slowly you ride out the staggering waves, whining pitifully with every aftershock. You slump against Yunho’s chest, breathless and spent, but still moaning in dissatisfaction when his fingers slide out your cunt, stretched open beyond what you thought you could take.

Your head spins as you gasp for air — and though you and Yunho have stopped moving, the bed still creaks underneath you, with familiar whiny moans filling the bedroom. You don’t even think about it, can’t think, when you peek back over your shoulder.

Vision blurred from unshed tears, you just barely make out the forms of San and Wooyoung.

San is still mostly clothed, only his trousers undone and shirt halfway open, while Wooyoung is stark naked in contrast. San is hunched over him, grunting as he finger-fucks him hard, his free hand pinning Wooyoung’s thigh to hold him down as he jerks and cries out at the punishing pace.

He’s completely lost in the throes of pleasure, head thrown back and spine arching, his unpinned leg kicking out and spasming. His cock is hard and leaking on his stomach, his hand harshly smacked away when he reaches down for relief. San revels in his whines with a toothy grin… a grin that widens when he glances over and sees you looking at him.

“Oh baby, no.”

Your memory jolts back to life with a shock, eyes widening, but it’s too late.

A hand closes around your throat, silver rings digging into your skin, and you gasp as Yunho forces you to look at him. You whimper, fully expecting to see fury in his eyes — and are thrown completely off balance when Yunho is pouting cutely instead, an unnerving contrast to his rough hold on you.

“And you were doing so well,” he sighs. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you? What a little pervert you are, you really love watching them that much. What about me, hm?”

“I-I—” You stammer, blood rushing down your core you as his thumb slowly presses down on the side of your neck. “Yunho, ‘m so—”

Your breath goes wheezy at the pressure, all while Yunho stares you down with those big, beautiful eyes. His pout fades away, leaving nothing but cool disappointment. “I get jealous, you know,” he murmurs, leaning in to nose at your cheek, lips brushing against your jaw. “Don’t wanna share just yet. What’s a guy gotta do to keep your attention?”

You suck in a tight breath when Yunho smacks his other hand against your ass, and then again, warming the skin. You whine at every impact, reflexively arching into it. Needing more.

“Ah, so that gets your attention,” Yunho says, his eyebrows raising with interest. “You know what I think?” His fingers tighten around your neck ever so slightly. You feel dizzy, drowning in heat. “I think San has been too soft on you. A spoiled little cockslut like you gets to do whatever she wants around him, don’t you?”

You weakly shake your head ‘no’; a bald-faced lie. San is soft like whipped cream when it comes to you.

Predictably, Yunho doesn’t buy it for a second. His palm connects with your ass again, a little harder this time. “No? You really expect me to believe that?” Yunho scoffs. “I bet all it takes is one needy look from those pretty eyes and he’s right down on his knees for you.”

Wooyoung’s whines are suddenly replaced by a loud cackle of his laughter — but a smacking sound rings through the bedroom and he yelps sharply, giggling apologies to San.

San mumbles out a sulky, “Seriously, Yunho?” and you can’t help but choke out a giggle of your own. Even Yunho’s mask breaks for a split second, his cheeks lifting as he bites down a laugh.

The intense, heated atmosphere lifts for just a moment as Yunho’s grip on your throat relaxes. But the respite does not last long, his bright smile morphing into cool, mocking amusement as he looks you over.

“But I can’t let this slide,” Yunho says, smoothly putting things back on track. “You had one simple rule to follow, and you couldn’t even do that? What, did I fuck the sense out of you with just my fingers?”

You cry out when he slaps your cunt, taking a beat too long to respond for his liking.

“Well?”

“J-just felt too good, please please, Yunnie…” You weakly grasp at his rumpled shirt, fiddling with the few remaining buttons. “Didn’t mean to break the rule, I swear,” you babble, “made me feel so good, filling me up like that, I couldn’t think…”

They’re exactly the kind of pleas that would appeal to the soft gooey center hidden underneath San’s hard dominant exterior — but Yunho is unimpressed, raising an eyebrow as he watches you clumsily undo the rest of his shirt. “Couldn’t help yourself from being a dirty voyeur, is that it?”

“Y-yeah,” you pout at him. “Didn’t mean to, Yunho, please…”

He tsks. “So it’s that easy to fuck you dumb, huh? Came just once and already your head is wiped clean. Fine, if you can’t follow orders on your own,” He slides his dishevelled tie from his neck with a sharp snap of fabric, “then I’ll have to make you.”

You moan weakly when Yunho covers your eyes with his tie as an improvised blindfold, the world going dark. Your heart beats in your throat at the absence of one of your senses, while the others intensify; the heady smell of sex in the bedroom, Yunho’s arms brushing against the sides of your head. (San’s grunts, Wooyoung sobbing out his name in growing desperation. Just from the sound, you can tell he is close.)

“It’s not too tight?” Yunho checks in after he ties the knot, giving the nape of your neck an unexpectedly gentle squeeze.

You shake your head. “No, no it’s good.”

“Good,” Yunho echoes lowly. “Take your panties off.”

Seated on your knees in Yunho’s lap, with no sight to guide you, you’re forced into an awkward shuffle to slip out of the ruined lace. Yunho doesn’t lift a hand to help you — but eventually you manage to discard the panties and settle back into Yunho’s lap. You can only imagine how your cunt must be making a mess of his slacks, slick leaking into his crotch.

Your breath hitches in surprise when Yunho’s hands suddenly run up your sides, dragging along the sheer fabric of your babydoll. He makes a noise of approval when you raise your arms without a verbal prompt, and he takes off the lingerie while careful to keep the improvised blindfold in place.

Yunho’s tie is now the only scrap of fabric on you. You shudder when his hands run over bare skin, feeling exposed, unable to see his face as he takes in your nude form for the first time. But insecurity gets no chance to grab hold, not when his exploration of your body is eager and impassioned. He maps out your shape with rough squeezes, fingers digging into soft flesh, like his eyes alone can’t fully appreciate the sight of you.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he groans, and you jolt at an unexpected open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder. He huffs a laugh at your surprise, raising goosebumps as his hot breath falls against the wet patch he sucked into your skin. “Now, let’s see if this next instruction is easier for you to follow. Touch my cock. Show me you’re a good girl after all.”

You obey with almost embarrassing swiftness, blindly seeking out the bulge in his crotch with your hand. It’s an easy target to find. You start to rub Yunho through his dirtied slacks — but Yunho tuts, his teeth nipping at your shoulder in admonishment. “Not like that. Touch it.”

You hesitate for a moment, but your head has cleared enough that it does not take long to catch his meaning. It takes you a little longer to fumble with the button and zipper of his trousers, but then you’re able to tug them and the waistband of his underwear down. Satisfaction coils in your abdomen at Yunho’s moaned sigh when your fingers wrap around him. With slow strokes, you finally get a proper feel of what he’s packing, and a heated rush of gratitude shoots through you for how thoroughly Yunho stretched you open. Fuck.

He’s warm under your touch, but also a little dry. You raise up a hand to your mouth, tongue darting out to messily slather your palm and fingers with saliva. Spit smears over your chin, but you don’t care. Yunho does care, hissing a swear under his breath.

“Fuck, you’re a nasty little thing,” he mutters appreciatively, grabbing your wrist to guide you back to his cock. “Both hands now, baby. Yeah, just like that. There’s a sweet girl.”

You can’t even make your fingers meet, using one hand to slide up and down his length while focusing on the tip with the other. Even without seeing it, the thought of that fat cockhead pressing inside you is both daunting and mouth-watering. Yunho lets out a deep groan as you twist your fist and you hone in on the motion, licking your lips when his cock twitches in your hands.

His breath picks up as you jerk him off, and you’re itching to tear away the blindfold, wanting to see how his face contorts in pleasure at your hands. Images flit through your head, of his heavy lidded eyes as he bites his lip, a pretty flush creeping up his neck.

Your pace falters for a moment when suddenly Yunho’s large hands press into your thighs, his thumbs slowly inching inward. One of his thumbs parts your sticky lower lips, the other teases just above your clit. Whining, you cant your hips into him, expecting Yunho to withdraw — and so you gasp in surprise when he actually obliges you, pressing his thumb firmly against the sensitive nub.

You moan in gratitude, moving your hand quicker. “P-please, Yunho…” you whine, tilting your head forward in search of his lips, shamelessly needy.

“So eager,” Yunho giggles, noses bumping into each other as he meets your lips for a clumsy kiss. “Such a sweet thing when you just listen. That’s all you need to do for me. Don’t think, just sit there and show me what an obedient little toy you are. So good to me.”

Even blindfolded, the world spins dizzingly around you. Yunho’s thumb rubs sharp sparks of electricity through your swollen clit, and you can barely parse what he’s saying. Just enough to know you are being good, and that’s all your addled mind needs, the praise swelling hotly in your chest.

You whine, just the touch of Yunho’s cock in your hands not enough. You ache to see him, taste him, hear the wet squelch of him filling up your empty, stretched cunt.

“God, you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate,” Yunho mumbles against your mouth, teeth grazing your bottom lip. “It really is a damn shame, I was gonna let you watch San make a mess of Wooyoung’s pretty tits, but no, you just had to get greedy. Oh, I know, sweetheart, I know,” he laughs breathlessly at your distressed whine, his thumb on your clit replaced by two fingers, teasing at your entrance. “But at least you still get to listen in on the fun. Lucky for you, Wooyoung can’t keep quiet even if he tried.”

“Could gag him,” San interjects from behind, a cocky grin folded into the suggestion. Wooyoung makes a wet, garbled noise that summons visions of his mouth stuffed with San’s fingers.

Yunho giggles darkly at the suggestion. “What’s this mean streak all of a sudden, San-ah? Trying to prove you’re not such a softie after all?”

“Don’t got a thing to prove, just ask Wooyoung,” San grunts, a sharp smack of skin on skin sounding through the bedroom, followed by a ragged gasp for air. “’Youngie, am I being soft on you?”

Wooyoung’s voice comes out hoarse. “Ngh, please, wanna cum… Sannie…”

Another smack fills the air, followed by a loud whimper as the mattress bounces underneath you. “Answer the question, Woo.”

“Mhn n-no —ah!— no! ‘S being mean, please please—” he whines, his mindless babbling searing through you.

Yunho giggles again, casually, like he isn’t sliding three fingers deep into your needy cunt. He holds them still, simply buried inside you. “Fuck, look at that mess, he’s just eating this up, isn’t he?” Yunho says, enjoying the view he’s so cruelly denying you. “What a fucking wreck. Could make him lick the dust off your boots and he’d be panting like a dog.”

Wooyoung’s whines rise in volume and pitch, dripping with blissful agony — until the noise is suddenly smothered. But San can’t silence him completely, and you quietly whine along with Wooyoung, starting to feel neglected as you gently swivel your hips to try and find some friction against Yunho’s fingers.

Instantly Yunho’s other hand connects with your ass, hard, his silver rings adding an extra bite to the impact. The pain is heavenly.

“See?” he chides, roughly groping at the sore spot as you squirm in his lap. “Not so fun when the person you’re fucking won’t pay attention to you, is it?”

You moan something that tries to be an apology but Yunho’s fingers slowly curl inside your aching cunt. He presses right against your g-spot, sending your every nerve ending on high alert, only making your body beg for more. You whine at his teasing, blindly clutching at his unbuttoned shirt in silent plea.

“Aw, there’s no need to pout,” Yunho says, that deceptive sweetness seeping back into his voice. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart, we can have some fun too. Let’s play a little game. If you can make me cum before San, then I’ll let you watch him.”

Acutely aware of San’s low groans and Wooyoung’s muffled sobs, you perk up at the opportunity. “Th-then, can I suck you off? Please?”

Yunho’s cock twitches in your hands. “Fuck, baby. I can see why San likes to spoil you so much, asking so nicely,” he grunts, filling your head with a fuzzy heat as his fingers stroke against your sweet spot. “Does your throat take cock well, pretty girl? Would you choke on it for me?”

“Yes, y-yes please, Yunho please—”

Still blindfolded, you welcome Yunho’s assistance as he helps you to settle between his thighs. Your legs are folded underneath you, your chest resting on your knees as you bend down, ass perked up. Your breath catches when Yunho’s hand returns to your throat, guiding you until something hot and sticky bumps against your cheek. Your tongue darts out, and you moan in satisfaction at the salty tang of precum.

His cockhead slides past your lips, where your mouth confirms what your hands already suspected; he is thicker than San, and every added strain to your jaw is felt at this size.

You moan at the heft of him on your tongue, taking his cock as deep as you comfortably can for the first pass. Without sight, it’s hard to judge how much of him fits in your mouth, but you try not to overthink it, simply easing yourself into a rhythm.

Yunho’s soft sighs and hissed curses burn through you, the sound mingled with Wooyoung’s muffled noises. San’s attempts to silence his moans do very little to make them less enticing, desperation dripping off every smothered whine. Still, you slowly forget the goal behind this game, distracted by the satisfying challenge of sucking Yunho off.

You take him a little deeper with every bob of your head, your hand covering what your mouth can’t manage. “A little more,” Yunho murmurs in heated encouragement. “You want me to cum, don’t you? Then work for it.”

Breathing becomes a challenge when the tip of him breaches your throat, your pharynx instinctively contracting at the intrusion. Yunho groans, his fingers tensing around your throat when you gag on his cock with a wet, lewd noise.

You faintly register a shuffling sound, weight shifting as Yunho repositions himself — and suddenly there’s an odd pressure between your thighs. Drool leaks past your stretched lips as you make a garbled noise of surprise. The ball of Yunho’s foot is pressed right against your core. He holds it still there, almost like an offer.

Experimentally, you swivel your hips into his foot. Pleasure bursts through your veins, a trickle of drool spilling down your chin as you moan at the much-needed friction. You’d been pretty worked up by Yunho earlier, and it doesn’t take much to get you back to that high. He groans at how you’re shamelessly humping against him, and he grinds the ball of his foot back into you, only spurring you on more. Your control slips away, eyes tearing up as you gag and choke on Yunho’s cock over and over again.

“F-fuck, hang on baby. Want you to look at me while I fuck that pretty mouth,” Yunho says tightly, shaky fingers releasing the tie covering your vision.

You blink away bleary tears as the dimmed bedroom light hits your eyes. Yunho throws the tie aside and cups your stuffed face, thumbs catching the tears streaming down your cheek. You glance up, moaning loudly when you see Yunho’s face.

Somehow, he looks almost exactly like you pictured him — but at the same time, the sight of him is a pale imitation of your fantasies at best. A deep flush colours his neck and ears, beautiful eyes blown and heavy-lidded, bottom lip swollen from the way he gnaws at it.

“There, that’s better,” he says, a lopsided smile gracing his lips. “Don’t wanna miss that needy look on your face. Just hit my thigh if you have to tap out, alright?”

You moan in confirmation, then Yunho puts a large hand on the back of your head, pushing himself deeper down your throat. His other hand comes to rest on your throat again, right underneath your jaw. He groans in satisfaction when the light squeeze of his fingers meets his cockhead at the back of your throat, your walls spasming around him.

Quickly Yunho sets a rough pace — rough, but still controlled; he pushes at your limits, always testing them, but never too far beyond how deep you took him before. The ball of his foot pushes against your cunt again, and you let out a garbled, wet moan at the sharply building pressure, spittle and precum forced past your lips with every obscenely loud gag of your throat.

“Oh fuck, this won’t take long,” Yunho grunts tightly. “Doing so well, what a good cocksleeve you are.”

You keen around him, light-headed from both your partially obstructed airways and his breathless praise. He’s too generous, you think; you can now see the neglected part of his dick, unwarmed by your mouth. You ache to feel him stretch out your cunt, longing to prove no inch of him will be neglected there.

But Yunho clearly does not mind. His face is contorted with sweet agony, breath picking up as he throbs in your mouth. He curses under his breath when you grind back against his foot, his jaw falling slack like your mindless rutting is getting him off as much as your warm, willing mouth is. You whimper as the coiling heat inside your abdomen overflows into intense release, flooding your system with piercing surges of pleasure, going limb in Yunho’s hold as you shake and tremble. It’s too much for him. With beautiful, ragged moans, Yunho tenses as he spills hotly down your throat, thick ropes of cum that almost make you choke all over again.

The tears prickling behind your eyes go sharp, and you give Yunho’s thigh two quick taps of your hand.

Immediately his hold on you relaxes, allowing you a dizzying pull for air as his cock slides out. You don’t let him go too far, holding him at the base while you kiss at the tip, smearing your lips with a white sheen.

“God, you’re too much,” Yunho groans, his softening cock twitching under your attentions. “C’mon, you earned your reward. Just in time to watch the end of the show.”

Yunho helps you to sit up, gathering you in his arms. First he sweetly sucks at your lips, his tongue swiping them clean of his cum, then he lets you rest against his flushed chest, rubbing a soothing hand over your back. Your jaw feels a bit sore, but you tiredly nuzzle into Yunho with a satisfied sigh, pressing a soft kiss on his sternum. He lets out a breathy laugh at the gesture, almost a little flustered.

Only then do you turn your head to look and San and Wooyoung, and this time there is no punishment; only a glorious reward.

The buttons of San’s dress shirt are completely undone — a few of them torn straight off. He has Wooyoung’s ankles thrown over one shoulder, fucking his thighs with hard thrusts, a hand splayed over Wooyoung’s mouth. San’s teeth are gritted, his tight dress shirt doing nothing to hide how his muscles flex with every slam of his pelvis against the back of Wooyoung’s legs. The wet smacking noise of San’s cock pushing between supple thighs easily overpowers Wooyoung’s weak whimpers, an angry flush to the glistening tip.

Wooyoung keens louder when he realises they have an audience, squirming against San’s hold. His cock slaps against his stomach in time with San’s thrusts, covered with crusted, dried cum. You can only guess at who came already, both of them hard and desperate.

“You can stop holding back now, San,” Yunho teases him. “She took her punishment like a good girl, just like you said she’d be. Her pretty eyes are on you now. Give her something good to look at, hm?”

San jerks his head to look at you, something wild and primal burning in his gaze. To think of his aggressive rut as ‘holding back’ feels impossible… yet he proves Yunho right all the same.

San’s hand lets go of Wooyoung’s mouth, who whines loudly when he’s released. His face is red and puffy and wet; and he sobs harder when San angles himself lower so his cock slides against Wooyoung’s with every thrust. Overwhelmed, Wooyoung’s eyes squeeze shut — but they snap back open with a cry when San harshly spanks his outer thigh.

“Look at her, Woo,” San grinds out. “Show her what a desperate wreck you are.”

Wooyoung hiccups, shakily wiping his face as he meets your eyes. The thick tears spilling down his shiny cheeks are mesmerising, causing a warmth to brew underneath your exhaustion. The heat is further stoked by Yunho’s long fingers kneading into your own thighs, like he’s contemplating the thick softness of them pressed around his own cock.

“Tell her what you want, Wooyoung,” San demands, the bed shaking underneath as he speeds up.

“W-wanna cum, mhn, need to cum so bad—”

Another smack lands on his thigh and Wooyoung cries out, his back arching pitifully. San scoffs at his whines. “Is that all? Our girl choked on Yunho’s dick so she could watch you, and that’s how you thank her? Thinking only about yourself?”

Wooyoung makes a strangled noise as he shakes his head, unable to get a word out.

“C’mon, we both know how much you get off on slutting yourself out like this,” San presses, relentless. “You fucking love it, love how much she loves it. How good you look like this, a depraved, flushed mess. Fucking gorgeous.”

The sudden praise jolts through Wooyoung, his fingers clawing at the sheets. “Y-yeah, that’s what I want—” he slurs, his tongue thick in his mouth. His long hair is sweaty and sticks to his face, throwing a shadow over his eyes as he pins his gaze back on you. “Want you to see, want you to watch me cum please, please—”

“I’m watching, Wooyoungie,” you say. You’re filled with something not unlike awe as you drink in his desperation, his unconditional surrender as he loses himself in the search of pleasure. “Watching everything San’s doing to you. So pretty.”

Right as you say that word, pretty, San smacks Wooyoung’s flushed cock. He sobs wretchedly, convulsing as the sudden pain sparks through his crossed wires. The first globule of sticky whiteness already forms at the tip before San wraps his fist around the darkened cockhead, forcing Wooyoung into a violent release. He mewls and spasms, jerking against San’s hold — but San doesn’t let up until his own breath falters, breaking on a whiny moan as he spills over Wooyoung’s thighs and still-leaking cock.

San slowly lets Wooyoung’s shaky legs down, ankles sliding from his shoulder. He’s panting hard, a sharp glint in his eyes as he admires the mess on Wooyoung’s torso, who basks in the attention of three pairs of eyes on him.

He stares up at San with a blissed-out, empty-headed smile, “So good… made me feel so good…”

Fondly, San chuckles and cups Wooyoung’s cheek.“You haven’t had enough yet, have you?” he hums, rubbing his thumb over Wooyoung’s swollen lips. “Yunho’s been looking forward to having his turn with you.”

Wooyoung nips at San’s thumb and grabs his wrist, his dark eyes glittering at Yunho as he presses a kiss against the palm of San’s hand. Anticipation crackles in the heady air, Wooyoung’s hungry gaze answering San’s question loud and clear. Never enough.

There is a brief moment of shuffling as San and Yunho swap places, but Yunho kisses the side of your head before he goes. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he murmurs in your ear. “Don’t think I’m satisfied with just my fingers in that tight hole.”

Your stretched cunt clenches around nothing at the promise, but you’re not empty for long. As soon as Yunho leaves your side, San embraces you in the comfort of his strong, familiar arms.

“Come, let’s cuddle,” he mumbles, pulling you on top of him as he lays on his back.

You let San manoeuvre you to his liking, knowing better than to object against resting your weight on him. You snuggle up against San, savouring the low, content rumble in his exposed, sweaty chest.

Both of you are a bit sluggish, but San still nudges you to lift your hips before you can settle entirely. He wraps his hand around the base of his softened cock, and you moan quietly when he presses into your waiting cunt. “Fuck, Yunho opened you up real nice,” he groans at the easy slide. “So fucking wet, baby. Just keep me warm like that for a while, ‘lright?”

With a gentle hand he strokes your hair, and you relax into him with a sigh.

San’s heart beats underneath your cheek as you turn your head to see Yunho has half-helped, half-dragged Wooyoung to lay parallel to you and San. Now he slowly crawls over Wooyoung’s prone body, drawing whines from him with even the lightest touch. Wooyoung shudders when Yunho scoops up some of the white fluids on his heaving chest, then offers it to him. He sucks on Yunho’s fingers on pure instinct, not a single thought behind his dazed eyes.

Maybe Yunho had a point when he called you a pervert earlier; your inner voyeur purrs at the meals she’s being fed tonight.

But it’s a badge you wear proudly, indulging yourself without shame. Your hungry eyes take in the way Yunho’s tall form is hunched over Wooyoung. The stark difference in their height makes Wooyoung look small, helpless, moaning at every drop of his and San’s seed that Yunho feeds him. You lick your lips every time Yunho’s fingers slip back into Wooyoung’s mouth.

Meanwhile, San runs a warm hand up and down your spine. His fingertips leave gentle sparks wherever they go. “Woo looks good like this, doesn’t he?” he says, a grin in his voice. “Can’t wait to see if our babygirl really has what it takes to handle that big cock, or if it’s just empty bragging. Yunho’s not gonna take it easy on him.”

(Wooyoung whines a little louder, his hips canting up.)

Carefully, San squeezes the nape of your neck. “Yunho didn’t take it easy on you either,” he hums, his fingers brushing over the sensitive parts of your throat where Yunho choked you earlier. “You made such pretty sounds for him… Did you have fun, hm?”

San’s gentle voice envelopes you with warmth, though it’s hard to focus on his question when Yunho curls his long fingers over Wooyoung’s thighs, the shapely muscles glistening with lube and cum.

“Yeah,” you manage to sigh out with a dopey smile. “Thank you… for holding back for me.”

You rub your cheek against his firm pec in gratitude; and you can feel as well as hear San’s abashed chuckle.

“Thought you deserved a proper reward. Did your punishment so well, what a sweet girl you were for him,” he says proudly. His praise sends a twitch through your cunt, and he lets out another breathy laugh as you clench around his cock. “So easy to work you up…” he teases fondly.

You whine, but there’s no denying the fresh slick leaking against San’s pelvis. It really can’t be helped; not when San is praising you, when Yunho pushes Wooyoung’s knees up to his chest, folding him in half. He spreads Wooyoung’s asscheeks, a pleased glint in his eyes at what he finds.

“Prepped him for you, Yun-ah,” San says, his own hands mirroring Yunho’s as he grabs at your ass, his thumb grazing over your rim. He pecks your forehead sweetly, whispering “Your turn soon.”

“Fuck, San, you sure did, he’s fucking gaping,” Yunho groans, and he turns Wooyoung at just enough of an angle to show you his loosened hole, remnants of lube glistening between his cheeks. Arousal smoulders under your skin at the brief glimpse, inflamed further when Yunho slides his half-hard cock through the crack of Wooyoung’s ass.

“Please,” Wooyoung keens, hooking his arms underneath his knees to keep his legs in place while he squirms at Yunho’s fat cockhead catching on the edge. “Please just put it in, please please—”

Yunho giggles at his impatience. “Ah San, you really got lucky, getting your hands on a pair of such cute playthings,” he says, squeezing Wooyoung’s ass. “I haven’t even lubed up yet — you so eager you’d take it dry, Woo? Don’t think that’s smart, even for a trained cocksleeve like you. Be good and wait a little longer, ‘m gonna need a second to recover from your girl’s pretty mouth.”

“Y-yeah, I get that,” Wooyoung says tightly, glancing at you with watery eyes.

Yunho grins. “I bet you do. Does she suck your dick often?”

“Wooyoungie’d rather drown in her pussy, actually,” San interjects casually, giving you a buck of his hips. “If anyone’s fucking that tight throat, it’s usually me.”

You whine as you get jostled, clutching onto San’s shoulders. Light-headed at how they’re talking about you like you’re just some toy for them to play with, passed around for their pleasure.

Yunho bites his lip, grinding a little harder against Wooyoung. “At the same time?”

San lets out a pleased hum. “Sometimes, yeah,” he says, and tips your chin up with his thumb and forefinger to meet his grin. “Remember last weekend, baby? Looked so pretty sitting on Wooyoung’s face while I fucked yours. Fuck, you were so noisy… made such a mess on him…”

Your nerve-endings ignite with pleasure at San’s reminder; your garbled moans around San’s cock while Wooyoung sucked the juices from your leaking cunt, even his nose covered with the shine of your slick after you finally pulled him away. You’re so lost in a daze that you almost miss it when Yunho asks you a question.

Did you like it?

Yunho huffs a quiet laugh at your noise of disorientation. “Did you like it, baby?” he repeats, slower this time; with the charitable patience one might have for a pet that’s cute, but not all that smart. “When Wooyoung eats you out? Is he any good, sweetheart?”

Your eyes trail up Wooyoung’s body, noting the veins bulging in his flexed forearms, still dutifully holding his legs in place. When you reach his face, he is staring right back at you, mouth fallen open and his long hair in a mess, strewn on the bed, a few sweaty strands clinging to his neck.

“The best,” you sigh sweetly.

The ‘o’ of Wooyoung’s lips stretches into a wide, fucked out smile, moaning out a breathless giggle as he preens at your answer.

“High praise,” Yunho says with a teasing glint in his eyes. He grabs for the bottle of lube that San left on the bed earlier and pops the cap. “He must’ve got one hell of a silver tongue to have earned that.”

You can’t help a moan, your clit throbbing with memories of Wooyoung’s tongue flicking and suckling at you, dissolving you into a puddle.

“She likes his nose too,” San chuckles, adding more fuel to the fire. He steadily kneads at your ass, giving it the occasional smack just to admire the bounce of his hand and the jiggle of your cheeks. “Don’t you, baby?”

“F-fuck, so much,” you whine. “Feels s-so good, riding his face… Grinding on it…”

Wooyoung suddenly trembles and gasps while Yunho runs a glistening finger down that beautifully hooked slope of his nose. It only takes you a beat to realise his strong reaction is not just because of the downpouring of praise — Yunho has forced the tip of his cock past Wooyoung’s rim.

“Ah ah ah—!”

The sound is torn from Wooyoung’s throat as his body snaps taut. His legs almost drop to the side before Yunho grabs onto his thighs, large hands kneading into the tense muscles. “Fuck,” Yunho swears, jaw clenched. “Relax for me, Woo. I’ll take it slow but— fuck.”

Wooyoung pants with hard, huffy breaths, his eyes rolling back as he struggles to take the sudden intrusion. It’s subtle, but San’s hold on you tenses for a moment, until Wooyoung’s voice breaks with an obscenely loud moan, leaving no mistake that the tears springing in his eyes are the right kind.

San relaxes again, his soft amused laugh rumbling through his chest. “Time to see if our size queen has bitten off more than he can chew,” he says; a taunt mixed with genuine fascination. “…And time for us to move on too.”

Unable to look away, your eyes are glued to Wooyoung’s face, contorted with agonised pleasure, and the slow press of Yunho’s hips, giving Wooyoung time to adjust. The idea of taking Yunho in your cunt is already daunting enough, you can’t begin to comprehend the ways Wooyoung’s body is forced to stretch and yield to his outrageous size.

Utterly transfixed, you barely register how San grabs for the lube and slicks up his own fingers — but you’re snapped back into your own reality when his index finger circles your tight hole, and quickly presses in. You moan at the slight pressure on your walls; not uncomfortable but always a little odd at the start.

Meanwhile Yunho groans tightly, a thick vein protruding in his neck from the effort of holding back. “Fuck, Sannie, you weren’t kidding about his recovery time,” he grinds out, a sharp curve to his lips. “I’m barely even inside him yet and he’s getting hard again already.”

Wooyoung whines pathetically, clawing at Yunho’s thighs like he’s trying to pull him in deeper.

“Please, hah mmh, please please,” he babbles, all coherent thoughts wiped from his mind. Yunho bends over him as he pushes deeper, and Wooyoung looks tiny underneath his tall frame, sobbing with delirious pleasure.

Lazily San fingers your ass open while you watch them together, his eyes big and shiny, gleaming with curiosity. Your body is pliant and relaxed for him, the thickness of two fingers a breeze in comparison. Awestruck, you witness how Yunho finally bottoms out.

Wooyoung hiccups as he tries to catch his breath, whimpering when Yunho wipes sweaty strands of hair out of his face.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Yunho murmurs, with none of his earlier faked sweetness. “What a champ. Not many who can take me like this, fucking incredible. Ready for me to fuck you, or do you need a moment?”

“M-move, please fuck please,” Wooyoung pleads. “Moving is better, please, hmgh—”

Slowly Yunho starts to move — and you can’t help but instinctively match his pace, squirming against San. His cock twitches in your warm cunt, almost back to full hardness already. He groans softly by your ear, smoothly pushing a third finger inside your other hole.

Soon, the noise of skin slapping against skin fills the bedroom every time Yunho buries himself to the hilt, lewdly harmonising with Wooyoung’s hitched moans. Yunho’s fingers dig harshly into his thighs to keep him in place, and you salivate at the thought of kissing Wooyoung’s resulting bruises later.

The harder Yunho fucks him, the more you hump into San, leaking around his cock. He bites down a whine, using his free hand to hold you steady. “Careful baby,” he says hoarsely, “I don’t know how many more I got in me. Let me save it for later, alright?”

Reluctantly you stop moving, targeting San with a small, needy pout instead.

He chuckles fondly, promising it’ll pay off later — but your further pouting is interrupted when Wooyoung’s moans suddenly rise in pitch.

Your eyes snap back to the others, where you see Yunho has hooked Wooyoung’s leg around his waist. This way, he’s given you full view of Wooyoung’s cock, flushed a deep dark red and oozing precum. Unintelligible curses and butchered gasps of Yunho’s name tumble clumsily off Wooyoung’s tongue, until no sound leaves his lips at all. His mouth is caught in a silent cry when Yunho bucks into him at an angle, and then again, his entire body shaking as watery strings of cum soil his stomach all over again.

Yunho only needs a few more thrusts himself before he doubles over with a loud grunt, moaning sweetly as he rides it out until he stills inside Wooyoung, hunched over his smaller form.

Burning gratitude coils in your abdomen when Yunho angles them again so you can see how Wooyoung’s hole is obscenely stretched around Yunho’s big cock. It leaves him gaping open when Yunho slowly pulls out, cum bubbling at the rim and leaking down onto the bed.

Wooyoung makes a weak noise at the emptiness, but Yunho wipes up the dribble of cum with his fingers and stuffs them back inside. Then he turns to San, wordlessly holding out his free hand.

You frown in confusion, but San seems to know exactly what Yunho is asking for. He reaches for something that’d been set aside unnoticed; and you bite your lip with a quiet moan when you realise he’s grabbed a thick buttplug. He hands it over to Yunho, who gives the toy a liberal coat of lube, then easily slides inside Wooyoung.

Wooyoung moans contently at the effortless fit, and barely fusses when Yunho helps him into a sitting position against the bed’s headboard. Wooyoung lets his head fall back, covered all over in the shine of sweat and other bodily fluids. He’s still breathing heavily, eyes lidded as he watches with exhausted interest how San guides you to get up as well, his cock sliding out of your cunt. And when San instructs you to sit on Wooyoung’s lap, you obey eagerly.

As you settle in Wooyoung’s lap, you make sure not to press your stomach against his dick. “You… that was… woah,” you sigh in admiration, gently combing your fingers through a tangle in his mussed up hair. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

He just gives you a breathless giggle, too fucked out for a verbal response — a rarity. The air between you is giddy, like you’re both high on the pleasure of having your bodies pushed to their limits. But he seeks out your pussy with his fingers, four of them effortlessly pressing inside. His own silent admiration of how Yunho stretched you out too.

You grin teasingly at Wooyoung’s ruined state, pressing a light peck on the tip of his nose. “You done for tonight? You kinda look like you might be done for tonight.”

“Fuck… definitely gonna need a minute,” Wooyoung groans, but you feel the smile on his lips when he tilts his head to catch you in a kiss. It’s a tired, heady meeting of lips, closer to an exchange of breath than an actual kiss, but you savour it all the same.

“Take your time, Wooyoung,” San assures him, interrupting the moment of affection to make sure you both drink something.

He grabs a bottle of water from the bedside table that he’d readied beforehand with liquids, a few snacks, wet wipes, all the usuals — but instead of handing you the bottle, San clasps your jaw, gently coercing your lips to part.

San pours a generous sip straight from the bottle into your mouth, careful not to spill. Your head buzzes at his tender yet forceful care, glowing with a syrupy warmth when he pats your cheek in approval after you swallow the water down.

He gives Wooyoung the same treatment, until he’s satisfied you both drank enough. He asks if either of you need anything else, and bursts into a flustered, dimpled laugh when the unanimous answer is “you finally taking the rest of those clothes off.”

He obliges, of course, shucking off his dress shirt with the ripped buttons and throwing it aside, soon followed by the rest. Tan skin and firm muscle, his cock still hard from earlier. San can’t help a tiny, flustered smile when you and Wooyoung lavish him with tired attention, nipping at the corded muscle of his shoulder, palming at the swell of his tits. Your hands bump into each other when you both reach for San’s cock, leading to another shared, giddy laugh.

You glance at Yunho, wondering if he is amenable to obliging you as well — and see he’s been discreetly cleaning himself up while San took care of you and Wooyoung. Yunho lets out a little embarrassed laugh when he realises you’re watching him wipe his softened dick. But you’re not laughing anymore, remembering his words from before.

“Don’t think I’m satisfied with just my fingers in that tight hole.”

You swallow tightly, biting your lip in anticipation.

Seeing your reaction, Yunho’s embarrassment quickly fades into a slow smile. Even without your asking, he treats you to the unhurried discarding of his clothes; not built like a brick wall the way San is, but fit and lean, moving his long limbs with a controlled grace that sparks a flutter in your stomach.

He crawls back onto the bed to join you and the others, and you hum a soft moan as his chest presses against your back, arms encircling your waist. Four fingers slip back inside you and Yunho gives them a careful wiggle, like he’s checking if you’re still ready for him.

You gasp at the tight press of Yunho’s fingers with their thick rings, your head falling back on his shoulder.

Just like that, the quiet lull in the bedroom dissipates, replaced by the wet squelch of Yunho slowly sliding his long fingers in and out of your sopping hole, coaxing your body to remember the stretch of them. A whine falls past your lips while San and Wooyoung watch in rapt attention, their eyes burning into you.

Wooyoung’s dark gaze is pinned on the heave of your chest as you gyrate in his lap, rolling your hips into Yunho’s hand, pushing back into his cock. Yunho surges forward with a groan, mouthing at your neck while he grinds against your ass. You whimper when Wooyoung bends forward to latch onto a pert nipple, licking thick, hot stripes as he laps at your tits.

San takes it all in with a light flush on his cheeks, unable to look away from your stuffed cunt. It’s obscene how easily Yunho’s fingers fit now, wet and slippery. “Fuck, Yunho, I bet you could fit your whole fist in there if we really took our time with her,” San groans softly, nothing but awe dripping from his voice.

You sob desperately at the idea, clenching around Yunho — but underneath the excitement, there is a weak jolt of anxiety. Your weeping cunt is burning, pushed to new limits, and suddenly every nerve ending in your body remembers; you had no say in what’d happen tonight, all power relinquished to San.

“Mh, I— I don’t— dunno if I can, ah, ah—!” you slur out, mewling when Wooyoung picks exactly this moment to suck harshly at your nipple. He whines happily as your hand flies to his hair, yanking at the black strands.

San’s hand joins yours to pull a squirmy Wooyoung away. “Breathe baby, deep breaths,” he says, sweetly kissing a fresh tearstreak on your cheek. “You don’t have to. Already doing so well, taking so much for us.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Yunho hums, rubbing his nose against your other cheek. He takes out his fingers and gives your slicked folds a gentle squeeze. “We’ll be careful with you. A pretty thing like you needs taking care of, don’t you? Gonna stuff you full, just the way you need. God, I can’t wait to feel you clench around my cock…”

You whimper, feeling hazy from their praise. Allowing you to slide back into that fuzzy safety of subspace, no thoughts of your own; Yunho and San know what’s best for you.

“T-then do it,” you moan. “Stuff me full, please.”

Yunho lets out a soft, delighted giggle at your eagerness. “We will, don’t you worry. San, lets see if your little troublemaker can get it back up again.”

The little troublemaker in question perks up, and then hisses when San reaches between you and Wooyoung to slick up his hand with your arousal before wrapping his fingers around Wooyoung’s worn-out cock. “F-fuck, Sannie,” he gasps, his body reflexively trying to jerk away, but pinned in place by you on his lap.

Yunho nuzzles your shoulder while he watches in approval how Wooyoung’s dick plumps back up. “Doing such a good job, San-ah…” he says with a pleased smile. “Look at you, almost can’t believe you’re the same guy as that timid rookie I took under my wing. You know just what your submissives need and always give it to them, don’t you? What a good boy you are.”

San whines at the praise, stroking Wooyoung a little faster. His eyes widen in surprise when Yunho clasps his chin, but he gladly melts into the offered kiss. It’s brief but intense, San’s tongue sucked into Yunho’s mouth, a thin trail of saliva connecting them when Yunho pulls away again, leaving San panting.

“Good boy,” Yunho smiles again, brushing his thumb over San’s flushed cheek. “Time for the next part.”

Yunho helps you to turn around, sitting reverse cowgirl on Wooyoung’s lap. Even in your dazed state, you quickly realise where this is going when San slicks up Wooyoung’s cock with a coat of lube. So you’re ready and relaxed when his cockhead prods between your asscheeks, lifting your hips to help San guide him inside, your jaw falling slack as you slowly lower yourself down.

Wooyoung groans a muffled swear against your shoulder once you’re fully seated on him, tightly circling his arms around your waist. Thankfully San prepped you well — but your nerves still momentarily spike back to life when Yunho bears down on you, swallowing your mouth in a deep kiss as he lines himself up. You whine against his lips, scrambling to grab onto something as his thick cock rubs through your sticky folds, then starts to push inside. One of your hands finds Wooyoung’s wrist, nails digging into his skin, while the other delves into Yunho’s hair.

Just by himself, Yunho would already be enough to overwhelm you; but buried alongside Wooyoung, their cocks pressing against each other through the thin barrier of your inner walls, you are drowning, completely overcome before he’s even fully sheathed inside you.

“Hngh, f-fuck, Yunho, hm can’t— too much, please—” you gasp out, but this time Yunho is less receptive to your pleas.

He tuts, unyielding. “This again? Sannie, what do you think?”

San cups your cheek, intently looking you over as you nuzzle pitifully into his palm — but when he speaks, his tone is cool and dismissive. “She’s fine.”

You sob weakly as Yunho sinks deeper, unyielding, but safe-wording is the farthest thing from your mind. Your head falls back against Wooyoung’s shoulder, mouth agape and spit dribbling down your chin. There is a bliss to being pushed like this, all control stripped away from you. Your cunt greedily sucks Yunho in, gushing around him, your body so wired you almost think you could cum just like this. Almost.

San observes you with feline curiosity, tilting his head as he seems to realise the same. “See, you like it,” he says smugly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Isn’t that right? No, no don’t be like that,” he teases when you let out a strangled moan. “You should tell them. Let them know, baby, say you like it.”

“L-like it…” you whimper, panting for breath when Yunho’s cock is finally nested inside your snug cunt, walls twitching around him. “Like having your cocks fill me up, feels so full…”

“Not full enough yet,” San says, quirking his eyebrows. “You got one hole left that needs to get stuffed. Hold her for me, Yunho.”

He shifts on the bed to reposition himself, and you don’t have time to process his words before Yunho’s large hand suddenly wraps around your throat again. It’s not tight enough to obstruct your airway, but your brain is instantly light-headed all the same, and you’re helpless to do anything except let him guide your mouth to San’s waiting cock.

With every inch of him going down your throat, you sink deeper into that fuzzy heat, your entire sense of self melting away until there is nothing left but that blissful pressure, filling you up from the inside. Static buzzes through you, and San grunts at how you moan gutturally around his cock

“You like this too, baby?” he asks with a mocking lilt, knowing damn well you can’t tell him.

But you still try your best, muffled moans escaping past his thick girth. You cry out louder when Wooyoung suddenly makes himself known again, angling for your attention by palming your chest. He plucks at your hard nipples, his teeth grazing against the nape of your neck as he lavishes you with open-mouthed kisses. His lips brush against the tips of Yunho’s fingers, who gives your throat a light squeeze, just to hear you whine.

Then, Yunho begins to move.

He starts off with slow, deep rolls of his hips, testing how he pushes you back on Wooyoung’s cock, how you almost gag around San. He bucks a little harder, and then you do gag, your throat convulsing around San’s fat cockhead, tears springing in your eyes.

Still mocking you, San coos at the sight. He brushes your tears away as they fall, but a low groan escapes him when he feels at your stuffed cheeks. You whimper, trying to curve your tongue around the vein on the underside of his cock — but Yunho fucks you harder now. Jostled by his rough thrusts, you’re forced to feel every inch of every cock that’s shoved inside your body, until you’re losing yourself in them, seizing up as wet heat pulses through your core, a dam bursting with delirious ecstasy, overloading your senses.

Their sweet moans fill your ears as you clench and spasm around them with intense release, low grunts and high whines, their arms holding you upright as the high passes through you, your body starting to sag.

It takes you a moment, still coming down to earth, to realise Wooyoung is clinging onto you desperately, his fingers digging into your sides. He whines and trembles, a faint buzzing reaching your ears. Confusion fights through your pleasure-addled brain — until you see the small remote in San’s hand, and a memory makes its way through of Yunho putting a buttplug in Wooyoung’s used hole. A vibrating plug, as it turns out.

“F-fuck,” Wooyoung grinds out, his sweat-slicked forehead pressed against your shoulder as his nails leave crescents in the soft meat of your waist. “I— I—”

“Gonna cum, Woo?” San asks, looking unimpressed, but the words come out tightly. He runs his hand through Wooyoung’s hair, forcing his head back. “Hold back, as long as you can. Understood?”

Wooyoung’s answer is nothing but a strangled sob, but it’s enough for San. He releases Wooyoung’s hair, cupping the back of your head instead, making sure he always stays good and deep in your mouth even while Yunho brutally fucks into you.

You’re burning, barely come down from your last orgasm when you feel the next one creeping up on you. Wooyoung is on the brink, San throbbing inside you, while Yunho never lets up on his punishing pace, a vein popped in his neck from the exertion of pistoning that obscenely big cock into your sopping cunt.

Sweat beads down Yunho’s temple, and a faint wish flits through your mind to suck at that bulging vein in his neck — but his hand is still firm around your throat while San uses it for his own pleasure, and the wish fades away.

“Touch her, Wooyoungie,” Yunho grunts. “Touch her clit. Wanna feel her cum again while we stuff her full.”

Wooyoung mewls weakly, but obeys with a shaky hand. The touch is directionless, weak swipes without clear purpose, but you’re on the edge in a second, not needing much at this point — and neither does San. His low moans choke up into a whine when you keen around him, sticky heat bursting on your tongue as he curses, almost doubling over. Wooyoung follows him in seconds, like San’s release was the permission he needed to finally let go, biting into your shoulder while he shudders and spills deep inside you.

Wooyoung pinches your clit just as Yunho hits right against that sweet spot, and you topple over again, toes curling, arching into him, a soundless cry reverberating around San’s cock as pleasure ripples through your body. Yunho swears hoarsely as you clamp down on him, pulling him over with you. It’s slightly weaker than the last one but the release lingers, quaking through you and elongated by every spurt of seed that the three men give you.

The buzzing of the buttplug stops in the wake of silence that follows, and San unceremoniously drops the remote onto the bed, his sweaty chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. Gently he frees your mouth, and you let out a weak cough at the sudden free pull of air. The lower half of your face is absolutely drenched with spittle and now, unable to swallow it all down, a trickle of cum leaks past the corner of your lips — just like it dribbles past Yunho and Wooyoung’s cocks, every hole leaking.

Wooyoung slumps against you, his arms still around your waist, and his weight forces you to slump into Yunho in turn. Yunho chuckles tiredly, helped by San to stay upright under your combined weights while they let you catch your breath. Pressed between their solid bodies, you can’t even tell whose hand runs over your arm, sighing contently. Exhausted to complete satisfaction.

Afterwards, San and Yunho both took a shower while you shared a long bath with Wooyoung; and now you’re bundled up in a soft bathrobe and San’s strong arms, curled up against him on the couch. He’s dozing off behind you, his chin nodding onto your shoulder, his drowsiness undeterred by the movie that’s playing on the TV.

(It’s Yunho’s favourite way to wind down after a long scene, so here you are, watching Into the Spider-Verse together.)

On the other end of the couch, Wooyoung is nestled comfortably between Yunho’s legs. The two of them frequently burst out into giggles, either from a joke in the movie or one shared between them. The atmosphere is easy, bright, all pieces slotted into place. You can’t help a smile, snuggling deeper against San, watching Yunho and Wooyoung’s antics, a simple thought settling warmly in your stomach as the four of you fit into this comfortable space together. This feels good.

#whiway #fanfic

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et6rnalsunshine · 3 days ago

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࣪˖ ִ⭑ ࣪ avoidance (chris sturniolo)

⭑ soph's note. second post hi. idk how i feel about this, ive never written something like this so hopefully it's not that bad.... also, thank you for almost 70 followers already and the likes on my last blurb, appreciate the love so much ♡

"is this what we do now? have sex, and not speak about it?" you ask, the question hanging heavy in the air as you look over to chris, who pauses his actions on his phone. he stays silent, not responding, but you knew he had heard you. you look away from him, sighing quietly as you glance around the slight darkness of the bedroom. you were tired of opening yourself up to chris, just for him to push you away.

"what?" he responds after a moment, looking over to you, but he knew what you meant.

you scoff slightly, looking over to him and sitting up slightly on the bed, "you know what i mean, chris." you had tried to talk to him. over and over, but it was like a wall had been built between you. one that felt impossible to break down.

"what 'd you do that for?" he murmurs, still staring blankly at his phone. you furrow your brows at his stupid question, opening your mouth to speak before he interrupts you. "make things into a big deal, i mean. why do you want to keep complicating things?" he looks over to you, setting his phone down.

"do what? i don't want to complicate things," you correct him, slight frustration bubbling up. "i just wanna talk, chris. can't we just talk, for once? you don't get to push me away like this. it isn't fair."

things were complicated, sure, they always were with chris. in the beginning, it felt like everything was falling into place. his words were sweet, wrapped in promises, ones that lingered even after he said them. for a while, those words felt like enough. even if there was no label on your relationship, it was enough. but then, slowly, something began to shift. it's like he realized how close he was getting to you, and immediately started pushing you away emotionally. the way his gaze would linger on you, but never quite meet your eyes. he was always there, always close, but never really there. not anymore.

every time you showed him the parts of yourself that you kept hidden from everyone else, he would pull back a little more, retreating into himself. you had began to wonder if maybe, you were the problem. if your presence was too much, too heavy for him. but it wasn't. you weren't the problem.

the silence stretched between you after you spoke. the air felt thick as he sighed at your words. no, it wasn't fair. but that didn't matter to him, did it? you could feel it—his avoidance. it was a feeling you had grown familiar to when it came to chris.

"seriously, chris. i'm tired of acting like everything's fine." you speak again, needing him to talk to you, to at least give it some acknowledgement. you look over to him, silently begging him to open up, to say anything. instead, he looks down at his hands, his expression unreadable.

his words full of affection, promises that were never quite fulfilled, had turned into nothing more than distant echoes. you had been vulnerable with him, you had opened yourself up in ways you hadn’t with anyone else, and yet, it was like he was too afraid to let you see him as he really was. you wanted to be there for him. you wanted to show him that you cared, that your care for him was beyond lust. that you weren't going anywhere. but he wasn't letting you in. and you realized, maybe he wasn't going to. maybe he couldn't—no. maybe he didn't want to.

and so, you sat there, both of you in that dimly lit bedroom. two people who had once been so close, but now felt like strangers. you hear chris let out a heavy sigh, meeting your eyes for a moment before getting up from the bed.

"where are you going?" you ask, disappointed as you once again had no answer to the questions lingering in your mind. you watch, a frown plastered on your face as he grabs his car keys and phone from the bedside table.

"are we seriously talking about this again?" he huffs to himself, running a hand through his hair before answering your question, "i just need to clear my head. ill be back," he mumbles before leaving you there, the bedroom door left open as you hear his footsteps retreating and eventually the faint hum of his car driving away.

you were left with nothing but your thoughts, the quiet hum of the ac, and the weight of something that never quite blossomed.

#© et6rnalsunshine #writings. 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ #࣪˖ ִ ࣪ blurbs #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturiolo fanfic #angst #chris sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo blurb

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helenazbmrskai · 3 days ago

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Han Jisung // gifted comfort 🎁

Note // This is entirely my indulgent fic for the holidays, it marks the day I post my first skz fanfic, have a good read!

Pairing [Han Jisung x avoidant attachment type! Reader]

Genre [Christmas AU, hurt and comfort, fluff, angst, smut]

Summary [You ask your friend to accompany you to a dreadful family reunion and the catch is that you rejected his confession but he's not one to give up when he knows your refusal is not for the lack of interest. Things might work out better than he expected right on your childhood bed.]

Warnings [family disharmony, anxiety and implied rocky relationship with the reader's dad, smut (handjob, sub!han, sexual intercourse)]

Rating [+18, smut]

Han reaches for your hand to stop the shaking of it momentarily. His thumb rolls over your knuckles enthralling a sense of comfort and you try hard to relax. ”Take in a deep breath cheeks.” The nickname at the end makes you smile. You close your eyes and exhale slowly, in the darkness you can only feel his warm hands one holding your hand and the other wrapping around your waist. It’s a small familiar bubble he created just outside your parent’s front porch driving away all the bad memories that keep coming back the more you get close to your childhood home.

It has been a dread to come home but with Jisung glued to your side, you listen to the small voice in your head that he- he might be able to keep you sane until it’s past Christmas. The knots in your stomach subside a bit that had you in a twist for a couple of days now. ”I think I will be sick.” Unsure how to express the feelings that overwhelm you if you had to summarise it you would say it’s similar to rocks sitting on your chest.

”It’s just the nerves, honey, you will be fine I’ll be here with you.” You don’t doubt him, he’s been your unshakeable pillar for years what concerns you is not that your family will hurt you but that they will hurt him.

”We talked about this. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Sensing your uptight shoulders and rigid posture Han can tell that you’re overthinking again in your head. Just like he always does when you get like that he pulls you close and rests your foreheads together so that you can see only him in your eyes.

He gets you to look at him effortlessly by now, one finger moves under your chin with practised ease and tilts your face up. ”Tell me what you’re truly afraid of.”

You bite your lip in discontent, you hate when he knows exactly when you’re about to lie about something.

”I hate how well you know me.” It’s just a few words whispered to no one in particular but he hears you, like always. He chuckles at your antics. Feels it how you relax in his hold. His knowing smirk is all you need to know this is what his plan was all along. With renewed intent, he cups your cheek and smiles seeing your annoyed look.

”You might hate it now but I’ll make sure you’ll love it someday.” You wince remembering the conversation that you had a week before. You know it was not his intention to plant seeds of guilt but you cannot help this gnawing feeling you have ever since you rejected him. He’s a great guy, the best to be honest he’s the one who makes you the happiest and you love spending time with him it’s just that you have this fear about your relationship. You know that he deserves someone who could be more emotionally available.

”I’m sorry.” It’s an impulsed apology and Han wants none of it. You talked it through after you rejected him and he took note of your uncertainty and decided to give you space to think but that doesn’t mean he has given up on you.

”Don’t apologise sweets. Just because I love you it doesn’t mean you have to feel any guilt for it.”

So sweet. Always the gentleman when it comes to you, he has the patience like an endless ocean and uses it all on you.

”Still-” You stop talking when his thumb frees your lower lip, he hates it when you bite it because it often bruises and you complain that it hurts while you eat. ”It’s not because I don’t l-” unable to say „love” you correct it. ”Like you.”

”I know that so don’t worry.” You hum in a moment of agreement and let your nerves subside a bit. It helps that Han is waiting for you patiently, he knows so well when you need his touch and when you need space. Afraid that you got spotted after standing on the porch for a long time you look around for any eyes but thankfully there’s none and you’re still alone in this bubble he created for you.

”Don’t think I forgot about what we were talking about. Tell me what’s on your mind. We’re not going anywhere until you let me in here.” Han playfully pokes the side of your head and you swat it away like he expected with a roll of your eyes. He’s real good at changing up the atmosphere whenever you need it.

”Hah, okay. I guess I’m just afraid after you meet with my parents you will change your mind and leave me after you realise I’m not worth the effort.” It’s out in the open you can’t bear to look at his reaction so you look down ashamed.

”That’s not going to happen. You are worth all the effort I’m putting into our relationship. I know you’re trying on your own as well so there’s nothing to be worried about.” It’s reassuring to hear him say it in such a convincing tone. You happily melt into his arms as he hugs you close.

Finally feeling ready enough to face the family.

”Are you going to come in or you will talk here for ’nother hour?” You jump out of Jisung’s arms when you hear your father’s voice. Breaking this perfect moment with his horrible timing to announce his presence. He had his usual scowl on his face – not that he ever had anything nice to say. Your hand visibly shakes as you press it to your side greeting your father. Jisung gets ahold of your hand and smiles gently at your father. He greets him with respect and you witness their awkward handshake but rather civil considering your dad’s temper. Once your mother shows up the tension in your shoulder eases up a bit.

She is more welcoming when she introduces herself to Han. You hold onto his hand like a lifeline as you get inside.

The interior hasn’t changed much since you were a kid maybe a few things were repaired and changed up here and there. The house itself is not too big so it doesn’t need a tour per se but you still offer Han to show him around.

Your mother approves of it as she still has a few things to do before dinner is ready and your father retires to the main bedroom to continue his show leaving you to your devices. Good to know that some things just never change around here.

”Glad that you’re here y/n. Get some rest and I’ll call you two when the food is ready.” Your mother shows the both of you a reserved smile but there’s affection for you in her gaze Han can see it.

It’s no surprise that you cannot show how you feel as there’s much in the household that cannot be expressed.

He can see why you were worried but in his eyes, your image will not change due to this. Your parents are not you and in the end, he should be grateful that he could meet you thanks to them bringing you to the world.

Han looks around the house with interest as you guide him a step ahead, his eye occasionally catching on a family picture on the cabinet but the most attention he pays to is how your room is decorated.

Your Scooby Doo’s bedding is adorable and he takes note of the posters you have of celebrities on your wall, males of course. He takes note of your tastes even if it’s limited to your teenage years this was the room that you spent the most time in. It makes him feel good that you let him into such an intimate space of yours. Whilst he’s grateful he can’t help his teasing though as you have the best reactions. You look so beautiful shy and red all over as you try to hide some plush bears.

”It’s been a while since I was here, okay? Don’t laugh at me, I bet your room is no better than this.” You visibly sulk at his enjoyment.

”I’ll show you my room next time.” You blush at what he’s hinting at and you cannot say that you don’t welcome this warm feeling. When Han sees that you’re not opposed to the idea he approaches you.

”My mom will absolutely adore you. I can’t wait for you to meet her.” You mirror his relaxed smile and let him pull you into a hug. You hum not in agreement or disagreement to keep the serenity of it. You don’t dare to look too hopeful even if his words of your futures together sound tempting when he envisions it. You like to hear him tell you about future events and plans it’s nice that he sees every image with you in the picture. It’s nice it feels like between his arms you belong.

Ever since he confessed his love to you there’s this tension a certain mood shift you feel between the two of you. It started to get to you but now it feels like it will consume you if you don’t say anything.

”What will you do if I say I wanted to kiss you?” Nervously curious there are newly formed knots in your stomach but this time it’s not anxiety that has you biting your lips as you anticipate the answer to your very bold question.

Jisung looks taken aback by your sudden boldness. It’s not that he couldn’t sense this tension in the air he decided not to act on it after your rejection. It hurt him but did not deter him from trying again especially since he knows you feel the same. He’s hopeful that you mean it but even if you don’t he’s not going to say no to you.

”I would say you can kiss me anytime.” Still unsure how to thread into his uncharted territory he gives you all the control. If you wanted to kiss him you can if you wanted to take it back and forget about it he would do it but it would be a lie since he wouldn’t be able to forget anything about you. He just likes you so much that you wrapped him around your pinky finger effortlessly. It does hurt his ego. You had his heart for a very long time now and it’s time you realise your power over him. You can feel it, his resolve weakening as your breaths mingle when you draw closer. His eyes visibly drop down to your lips frowns when he sees you bite your lip again.

”Where’s your self-preservation, huh? What if I asked to have sex?” You withdraw and he doesn’t like it he’s been anticipating that hypothetical kiss that you sweetly promised with your daring eyes. He was so close to it. You don’t look frightened like usual when anything remotely romantic comes up and that gives him the courage to be honest with you as well. He draws you back into his space.

”I would say we can have sex if you wanted.” A part of you expected him to change the subject or crack a joke but he remains serious as he looks at you under his hooded eyes. You’re speechless.

”Jisung. We’re at my parents.” You lower your voice to indicate that you can get closer to getting caught with each passing minute. Dinner could be ready anytime soon. Jisung just laughs at your scandalised face the tension eases a bit but he’s not letting it completely get lost as he grips your waist lovingly his hold tightens as he bends to laugh directly into your neck taking up your space. You realise he’s checking your reactions to his touch and closeness. See if you will laugh with him and push him away. Jisung is in desperate need of your attention and you talking about having sex with him is not lost on him it put him in a predicament. Afraid that you might never ask him again he catches himself becoming impatient. He imagined it. He wants it but only if you do too.

”You’re right. I’m sorry for acting this way.” He catches himself a moment later as he withdraws from your neck. You rejected him not that long ago so he swore to move at snail's speed with you building up his next confession but here he is – getting greedy. You’re torn if you should stop him from getting farther away or if you require space to think clearly. Both of you are getting lost in your thoughts. You can tell he tries to compose himself thinking that you won’t read the need from his eyes that look back at you. You want to say something, anything but-

”The food is ready.” A single hard knock interrupts you before you can say anything. Yes or no, you’re unsure. Yelling back a ’be right there’ so your mother could hear you. You deserve a pat on your back for your voice coming out clearly. You know you should say something first before Jisung misunderstands you.

”Let’s talk about this again later, shall we?” An encouraging smile and a melting heart eye is all you can do to convey your sincere heart. While having doubts about where it could all lead – these feelings are growing too much for you to ignore. You can’t help but chase after this love that he’s capable of giving.

”-Alright.”

You can tell he has something to say. Maybe to reassure you he’s not here to make your choices. If you said the word you know he could wait more if not forever for you to come around. Ever since you knew him he’s always been relentless. If there was anything he wanted he kept chasing it. He never failed to claim anything he wanted so far – and it seems like you won’t be the first exception.

He did capture you in the end.

Jisung follows you to the dining room and while you expect it to be awkward with you sitting in front of your dad with your sister present and more people around you, you are able to relax more into your seat.

There’s silence breaking chit-chat here and there your mother mostly asking questions about your days and your sister’s laced with some Christmas music playing in the background. You’re surprised that Jisung talks with your dad a few words – thankfully at his best behaviour considering there are outsiders at the dinner table – you catch up with your sister’s husband a bit before you make sure he’s included in your conversation.

Feeling touched that he accompanied you even though he doesn’t know anyone here you find his hand under the table and thread your fingers together. He stops mid-conversation his hand grabbing onto you firmly to show you he’s here with you. There’s an unusual smile on everyone’s faces throughout the dinner.

This is the most peaceful it has been in ages.

”He’s a catch.” You jolt when you hear your sister whisper the words into your ear with dirty plates in your hand. You assured Jisung that he could shower first as you would take care of the dishes first. This might be the first time you separated from him but you calmed down enough that you don’t feel dread by it. It’s the perfect time for your sister to start her little inquiry. She caught you in a corner and you smile warmly at her as she asks you about him. Everyone else retreated to their rooms.

”Yeah, he’s good to me.” Your smile is incriminating that your sister knows by now that you’re head over heels for him.

”I can see that. He likes you so much. He couldn’t look away from you the entire time.” Her teasing is hammering home especially after you remember that you still have a conversation to touch upon later tonight.

”Enough about me. What about you? Everything alright?” She nods with a smile.

”Very peaceful now that we have our house.” You can imagine that.

It’s been a while since you last talked so you try to catch up in a few before you both head to bed. Once you enter your room Jisung is already lying on your bed freshly showered with a book in his hands. The day is catching up to you it seems as you nip a yawn at the bud. The day’s anxiety leaves your body at once now that the tiring socialising is over, you book it as a success without incidents.

”Everything’s alright?” You hum an affirmative into his t-shirt your legs and hands trapping him in a hug.

”Tired? You’re awfully cuddly.” Jisung giggles at how cute you are right now his hand absentmindedly goes to play with your hair and you further relax into his chest. You know you should get up and shower but this position is too comfy for you to move just yet. He smells like your soap. It awakens a weird sense of possessiveness in you.

”Not tired. I think we have a thing or two to discuss.” You push yourself above him positioned so that your palms are keeping you up next to his head planted onto the sheets. He visibly gulps at your sudden change in mood.

You oddly feel unrestrained.

”I guess we do.” It’s maddening when he shows you a boyish grin. His hand rests on your hip basking in your proximity. You lower your face until it’s inches away – he’s anticipating your kiss with eagerness, eyes already hooded and lips parted slightly in a sensual way. You know he’s waiting for it.

”You said I can kiss you anytime I want.” He confirms it with an annoyed huff. You pulled away just before your lips could touch.

”I did.” You’re teasing him and he doesn’t like it as he’s been anticipating it so much, you’re so close yet so far away that it’s agonising. Yet he can’t do anything about it. He closes his eyes in frustration before opening it again to look at you with such want that surely stirs something in the pit of your stomach.

You can do anything and he would wait until you decide he can have it.

”Said we can have sex if I wanted?” You’re repeating his words but his ears uncharacteristically turn red in the meantime.

”I d-did say that.”

It’s so unfamiliar, this shift that’s happening right this moment. You’re the one who’s insecure most of the time, sometimes gloomy and hard to handle but he always treats you right with confidence.

Hearing his stutter is a sign that you can sometimes steal his confidence.

”Please give me a kiss.” Jisung carefully cups your face pressing you close to his body, his beginning is music to your ears. You lean closer just to tease him a bit more which earns a pout from him.

You kiss his jaw and when he lets out a surprised sigh you kiss his pout away, pressing your lips to his awaiting ones.

”Hmn.” The sounds he lets out are stirring. You want to tell him to keep quiet since you’re still in your parent’s house but he recaptures your lips before you can say anything. ”A bit more, please.”

He keeps pressing, begging and kissing as if you will let him go any moment. As if he will never get to taste your mouth keeps pushing his lips against yours, moulding it hotly, lips fitting perfectly as he slowly holds you close to him. There’s a longing desperation in his actions.

Hums, moans and begs.

He drives you wild with his words and sounds.

Even though you love to hear him you’re prone to get caught if this continues so you have to tear yourself away from his mouth to recapture his attention. His glassy eyes manage to focus on you.

”Be quiet.” Jisung looks away shyly ashamed of how turned on he is just because of a few kisses. You looking down at him sternly doesn’t help. You didn’t even use your tongue yet and he’s so into it. Even if he’s ashamed of his reactions he can’t help but nod in hope that you will continue if he obeys. ”Think you can be quiet Sungie?”

He knows by now that you’re teasing him. The nickname. It’s so rare for you to use and to hear it in such a context. ”I can.” He’s completely lost to you. He wants you so bad it’s physically paining him. He doesn’t care if it’s in your childhood bed in your parent’s house or if you want to forget about it in the morning. He needs it now. Want to feel your hands and mouth all over his body.

”I’m sorry but can you help me? Honey?” He’s aching it doesn’t feel as good when he touches his cock through his pants like it used to. Even with you watching his rubbing motions it’s not nearly enough.

He knows he’s being shameless and impatient.

”It’s okay to want things from me. You don’t need to say sorry. I know our case is special as I have many issues to deal with- but you never have to apologise for seeking my affection or touch.” It’s a rare show of vulnerability in your voice and Han soaks it in, relieved that you don’t think he’s being pushy and impatient. He always wants you to have everything so it’s hard for him to ask you to fulfill his desires.

”It’s okay even if what I want is you?” It’s out before he could think. His second confession. He got rejected not too long ago yet he dared to say it again. You chuckle at the visible panic on his face, you can tell he’s waiting for you to pull away to say no.

You’re tired of fighting it.

”It’s okay for you to love me. I want it. Your love.” His heart leaps to his throat when he hears you finally accept his confession. You seal it with your lips against him this time neither of you shies away as you deepen it with your intertwined tongues.

”Thank you, thank you, thank you-” It comes out in gasps as your hand travels under his pants in the heat of the moment, your lips never falter as he presses the words into your mouth, and your fingers grip his length until you’re unsure if he’s thankful for you accepting his confession or if it is a reply to his desire to touch his cock. Either way, you’re here to please, it might not mean much but you always wanted to thank him for caring for you and this presents a great opportunity to do so.

It’s a bit tricky but you make the best of it due to the limited space, moving with the impatient rock of his hip you have a firm grip on him that looks to be just the extra push he needs. ”Feel ’so good- hmn, don’t stop.” Wordlessly you continue to go up and down his cock getting the extra wetness all over him.

He tugs his sweatpants down his hips so that his cock can be uncovered with more room for you to move and pick up the speed of your pumps. His unbecoming is near and what a mess he is almost as messy and sloppy as his cock is wet and squelching in your hands. His heavy breathing indicates it’s getting harder for him to control his moans it takes a high pitch when you get the right angle.

His cock is bigger than you expected, the producing veins and the grith everything is pretty about him. Curious if he would taste good you lean down to take the tip into your mouth when he pulls your head back a loud whining voice is filled with panic at your actions. ”D-don’t, if you do I don’t know if I could l-last.”

”Alright, if you don’t want to cum, then where you would like it?” You share a short sweet kiss before you straddle his lap.

”Do you want to cum inside? It might be the less messy option.” Whilst you nonchalantly ponder over the options Han is falling apart beneath you. It’s the closest you’ve ever been to each other.

He can feel your wetness rubbing up on him bare.

”What d- do you want?” Always the gentleman. Sharing a few kisses you align him with your opening.

”Of course I want you to cum inside. I have protection so you don’t need to worry about kids.” Han nods at your suggestion very eager to feel you around him if the twitching of his cock is any indication.

”What about you? Do you want it?” His hands grip your hips in anticipation. It tightens around you when you slowly sink to the bottom the stretch is tortuous as your walls clamp around him trying to accommodate. The tight pulsing is never ending it has Jisung’s already sensitive cock swell in you ready to burst.

”I’ve been dreaming about it for so long. Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this. I think I will cum soon.”

You can see that as he closes his eyes when you move his expression pained as he tries his best to keep hard for you. He wants you to get off first before he explodes but it’s hard as your hole sucks him in not letting up your tight grip on his throbbing length. The friction is delicious as you rock your hips, every vein presses against a nerve inside of you the grove of his length providing the perfect arch to reach your spot.

You’re convinced that his cock was made for you. It’s not hard for you to reach high places with the precise thrusts he delivers into you from below. Jisung aligns it with your bounces in sync gripping you by the hips, dragging you across his cock to take you on a ride. The pressure is building in your stomach until it explodes and you cum around his cock it doesn’t take more than a few more minutes for him to follow you.

His cum shoots deep inside you, flooding you with his warm cum that starts to drip out the moment his softening cock slips out of you.

You get up to get yourself clean before it can stain the bedsheets even if his begging eyes for cuddles are tempting you don’t want to start the next morning explaining to the household why you need to wash your sheets.

”I’ll quickly shower and be right back.” You place a kiss on his pouty lips, there’s a glow around him all sweaty and smooth around the edges as his expression is relaxed post-orgasm. You certainly adore this look on him.

”You can join me since I dirtied you up.” A sheepish smile is what you give him. He did take a shower merely two hours ago. You press your lips to his jaw and collarbones earning sweet little sighs from him. He makes you grow soft it’s out of your control as you can’t stop the constant touches you do.

Pushing his sweaty hair back you caress the hairs at his nape pulling him in for a longer kiss this time.

”I guess I should.” He looks too smug for someone who whined for you to put it in but you let it slide as you intertwine your fingers.

Han kisses your shoulders up to your throat it’s sweet without the urgency he had before it feels more like he’s trying to worship you. It makes your heart flutter and you can’t help but pull him up to kiss you this sweetly on the mouth as well.

”This might be my favourite Christmas so far.” You admit. Looking at his adorning eyes you can see your reflection in them. ”It’s all thanks to you.”

#stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #skz fanfiction #skz x reader #skz smut #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #sub han #sub han jisung #sub skz #sub stray kids #skz jisung x reader #skz fluff #skz angst

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mikaryu · 2 days ago

Text

Locker Sex

Hi guys… This is an older one I am reposting from my AO3. I actually really hate it, but it was the only oneshot I have to post so..

highschool au, Gojo/f!reader

“So… you know Geto, right?” Shoko squints while turning her head to you.

You purse your lips, running your tongue over them swiftly before returning to your resting face. Shoko and you are walking through the halls of your highschool, on the way to your last class of the day. Unfortunately, this specific class was across the entire school so it was quite the walk.

“Yes? Obviously, He’s Gojo’s best friend. Why do you mention him?” Suspiciously, you raise your eyebrow at the brunette.

“Well, I sort of got the chance to talk to him the other day… and we made a sort of… deal.” She gives an awkward smile while chuckling.

Shaking your head, you look straight ahead, careful not to bump into other students who may obstruct your path. “What the fuck did you do, Shoko? I swear, what did you say?”

“Uhm… telling you would ruin the surprise! But just a heads up, it’s all my fault. Punish me later.” She says before scurrying off to her next class, located just a door away from your’s. She doesn’t give you the chance to say something in response.

The class is a living hell. A difficult one to suffer through, being the last class of the day. And, not to mention, Gojo Satoru is in it. And sits right next to you. You hate his guts, to be honest. But something about him made you obsessed with him. You don’t know why. Maybe it is because he is so perfectly sculpted, so incredibly handsome, he was pretty. Maybe it’s because of the flirty remarks he always shoots at you, making you freeze up and stutter over your words as you are trying to knock some sense into him.

He is so full of himself, but for good reason. He could have any woman he wants. No way would he want you.

So instead you tried to push him away as much as possible. You are an asshole to him, hoping he would show his true colors and you would lose feelings.

Hell, like that would ever work.

Somehow you only ever became more obsessed with him, and he would flirt with you more.

He was oblivious, though.

The man stares at you as you quickly jot something down, blowing out a heavy puff of air as you flip the pencil over to rub the eraser into your notebook. The way your hair falls over your eyes, the way your cheeks puff out, you are adorable to him.

And somehow, he thinks that you were the only woman he couldn’t pull. The one that wasn’t wrapped around his finger. Everyone else’s eyes were stolen as he walked past, but never you. Anytime he passed you through the hallway, you would furrow your brows and look away.

You were the one thing he couldn’t have. And it only fueled him more.

You pick your head up, turning it and looking in his direction. His gaze catches yours. Instead of looking away, he rests his chin in his palm, the other coming to wave his fingers at you mockingly.

You roll your eyes, scoffing before peeling your eyes away from his to connect with the board 4 rows in front of you.

The class is so boring, as always. The only thing keeping you company is Gojo kicking your chair to annoy you, or throwing his eraser shavings in your direction to scatter over your clothes and desk.

You glare at him, and he just blows a kiss at you before winking.

The class ends, the bell startling you just before you drift off to sleep.

As you pack your things, heading to the door, your pulled to a stop. A hand grips at your arm, pulling you back out of the entrance.

You turn to face your oppressor, and of course, it’s Gojo.

“Do you have the notes from yesterday? I fell asleep.” He asks, nonchalantly as if you are best friends. You definitely aren’t.

“I do, but what do you have in exchange?” You smirk, looking up at his tall figure which towers over you.

He taps a finger to his chin, squinting and pouting his lips. “I know. You don’t have the science homework, right? I heard you complaining about it.” He grins, looking down at you.

Your eyes light up. You had missed the notes one day, and now are completely lost. Would he really give you a copy of his homework? “For real? The would help so much-”

He cuts you off, wagging a finger in front of your face. “Ah ah ah, I’m not just going to give you a copy, not a fair exchange. Instead, why don’t you come to my house? I can help you… study.”

You didn’t catch on.

“Wouldn’t that just be more work for you?” You sigh, looking down to the books in your arms.

He realizes you hadn’t caught on to his idea, and he decides to scrap it. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you a copy of my science homework if you give me yesterday’s notes. Just make sure to change a few things, I don’t want to get called out. Deal?” He outreaches his hand to you.

“Deal.” You nod, walking away ignoring the hand he wanted you to shake.

The halls were more empty now, everyone had rushed out quickly since it’s Friday.

Your locker is in the corner of the school, down the stairs right next to the class you had just exited. Due to the excess amount of students that attend the school, they had to designate an entire room to lockers. The lockers down there were very spacious, though, so the staff decided seniors should get the lockers.

Your first three years you thought it was a bit unfair, but being a senior a few months from graduation now, you were happy with it. The year was so much better being able to hold whatever you wanted in it. Whether it be changes of clothes, extra notebooks, an umbrella, jackets, you had it.

Not anymore, though. You had cleaned it out last week, realizing you never used the stuff in it and there was no need. So it is pretty empty. You twist the knob, lifting your finger on the latch to unlock it. You grab your bag, shoving your belongings in it.

Something bumps into you from behind, your stance falters, and you step into the locker to catch your fall. Something pushes you again so you are fully inside. You let out a gasp, whirling around to face the person before the door slams shut in your face.

“What the fuck?!” You exclaim, pounding your fists onto the door.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry, Y/N!” You hear Shoko’s voice. So this is what she meant.

Before you can say anything else, you hear footsteps run off, leaving you behind.

“The hell?!” You yell out, once again, trying to lift the mechanism from the inside, but failing.

She was gone. Left you. What kind of dirty game was she up to?

You scream a few more times, trying to call out for someone, anyone who was near.

As you begin to get tired, you hear rushed footsteps entering the room.

“Hey!” You yell out, trying to get their attention.

“The fuck? Is someone in there?” A hushed voice occurs, and you hear them step closer.

Another voice perks up. One you recognized all too well. “Y/N? Is that you? Why the hell are you in there?”

A shadow is casted over the little amount of light that was entering the cracks of the door.

“Shoko fucking pushed me in and locked the door.” You are calmer now, knowing you will be able to escape.

“Ok, ok. Tell me the number, I’ll get you out of there.” Gojo raps his knuckle lightly onto the door.

“24, 8, 32.” You hear clicks as you command him.

The latch is picked up, the door flies open. Just as you are about to step out, Gojo’s body crashes into yours and you stumble back into the lockers.

You see Geto behind Gojo, pushing him in, forcefully closing the door.

You are speechless.

“Hey man what the fuck?!” Gojo shouts out, banging his fist onto the door once before Geto leaves the room.

So this is what those fuckers were planning. It all makes sense now. Shoko and Geto talked, found out you liked Gojo, and are now trying to set you up. But, why would Geto agree to this? It’s not like Gojo likes you back.

You pinch the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index fingers, sighing and leaning your head down. “I- I’m sorry, this is Shoko’s fault.”

Your back is up against the wall, Gojo is mirroring you. One of his legs is in between yours, one of yours is in between his. His neck is bent to the side, head touching the top of the locker for him being so tall.

“Damn my good genes.” Gojo rolls his eyes sarcastically before connecting them with yours.

Usually, you would’ve at least chuckled at that. But now, you are too focused on where his leg lies. His knee is bent, pressed up against in between your thighs. Your face is painted red, lips slightly agape, your eyes blown wide trying to focus as much as possible.

Your focus breaks when he hums at you, trying to gain your attention. A jolt of electricity runs down your spine in surprise, your leg twitching slightly, thigh pushing up into Gojo’s crotch.

He groans, his head leaning back and thumping against the back of the locker. “Y/N, f-fuck stop moving.” His cheeks are tinted a light pink, eyes shutting and biting his bottom lip.

You look up at him, terrified at what you had done. “H-holy shit I’m sorry I’ll move-” you stutter while trying to remove your leg from its spot, failing and only pressing up against him more.

The sound that escaped his lips leaves you astonished. It was a mix between a whimper and high pitched moan.

His hand flies down quickly to grip your thigh, nails digging into your skin to keep your leg still.

His head tilts forward, eyes looking down at you. There was a cloud covering them, a deep intent focused towards you. His teeth grit together. His eyes flicker to your lips, before returning to your eyes. His are glimmering in the small amount of light, the beautiful bright blue irises you have found yourself lost in many times in the past.

The hand that isn’t grabbing your thigh travels up your side, gripping your jaw roughly. His voice is low and husky when he speaks, “Why did Geto and your friend do this, hm? Was it planned? Did you know? Nevermind, of course you didn’t know.” He rolls his eyes, letting up on his grip, hand running down your neck, thumb holding your chin.

His gaze sticks to your lips again, and before you could even think he smashes his head into your, lips pushed together in a flash.

The hand on your thigh drags up, squeezing the skin before turning to grip your waist. His lips move against yours, head tilting to deepen the kiss.

You can barely process what is happening. Your hand wraps around his neck, the other pressing against his cheek. Your fingers twirl his white locks, his tongue slides across your lips, prying them open and sliding inside. You moan into his mouth. His hand releases your chin, falling down and grabbing the thigh in between his legs.

He parts from your lips, moving your thigh to wrap around his waist. You lift up your other leg, wrapping it around his waist as well. His hands hold the underside of both your thighs, pinning his body up against yours, pressing you further into the metallic wall behind.

“Fuck, are you ok with this?” Gojo hisses out as he grinds up against you.

“Yes, mhm-” You whimper out, nodding your head frantically.

“Damn, ok, listen to me.” He pushes his head up against your chest, above your breasts. “I’m gonna get on my knees in this goddamn cramped ass fucking locker, I’m gonna eat you out so good you’ll be screaming my name. Then, I’m gonna slam into this door to break us out of here. Us being locked in here gives me an excuse for now even though I know damn well I can get out right now. After we get our asses out, you are coming to my house, and I’m going to fuck you so hard, and so good, baby, alright?” He kisses your neck, hand running under your shirt , cupping your breast.

“And I thought you hated me.” You smile, head still leaning backwards, but eyes looking down at him.

He lifts his head to look at you. “You thought I hated you?” The look he gives you isn’t sarcastic in any way like his usual ‘confused’ look. “You thought, I, hated you? ” He repeats.

“Yeah, obviously.” You snort.

“Sweetheart you got some explaining to do later. It don’t matter right now though, whatever.” He waves a hand at you, dropping to his knees while keeping your hips in the same spot.

His palms press upward, moving your thighs to rest on his shoulders. His fingers hook under your shorts, swiftly pulling them down. He ducks his head, twisting around and struggling to pull them completely off your legs.

You chuckle at him, squirming a bit when he finally does. He looks up at you, unamused. Two fingers reach up to your panties, pushing them to the side. He sucks in through his teeth, muttering something under his breath. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding this pretty thing from me all along.”

Without a second thought, he licks a long stripe up your pussy, circling his tongue around your clit. A loud moan is ripped from your throat, eyes squeezing shut.

“ Fuck, just like that baby girl c’mon.” His tongue dips past your folds, curling up to lap up the wetness that had accumulated.

Your hand grasps the top of his head, tugging on his hair and pulling his face further into your core. He doesn’t protest, plunging his tongue in deeper, in and out, fucking you with his tongue.

“Fuck!” You scream out and his finger rubs at your clit, tongue continuing to work its magic.

You roll your hips, grinding up against Gojo’s face. He looks up at you through white lashes, the blue in his eyes equivalent to the brightest clearest blue sky. You wish you didn’t look at him at that moment, because the scene made an avalanche in your stomach come crashing through.

Mouth sucking on your pussy, nail marks indented into your plush thighs which squeezed around his head. You feel yourself topple over, reaching your orgasm. Gojo doesn’t stop. He licks and sucks up all your juices, and you are embarrassed by the wet noises it makes.

When you finally start to come down from your high, he pulls away from you, gasping for air. He uses the back of his hand to wipe away any excess liquid on his face, licking his lips after.

“You taste so good~” He slurs, your back sliding down the wall until you are level with him.

You exhale deeply, legs trembling.

Gojo grabs your ass, picking you up again and standing. He turns the both of you ninety degrees so his back is facing the door.

“Can you stand?” He asks, putting you down.

You nod, still slightly out of it.

He makes sure you are ok, before bracing his arm and ramming his elbow into the lock mechanism on the door. A snapping sound is heard, but it doesn’t break. One more good hit, and the door flings open, both you and Gojo toppling out. He catches you and stumbles, making sure neither of you fall.

You pull your shorts up, wobbling and gripping onto his shoulder for support.

“My house is less than a mile away, can you deal?” He seems hurried, the bulge in his pants prominent.

“Y-yeah I think so…” You say, continuing to hold onto his shoulder and picking up your bag you had dropped on the floor earlier.

One quick look out the window and you can see heavy rain.

“I have an umbrella.” Gojo responds, following your gaze.

You nod, and he strays over to his locker, quickly unlocking it, securing the umbrella, then closing it again.

You wrap your arm around his, following him through the hall to the closest exit. He pops open the umbrella, hovering it in the air above the both of you for protection from the rain.

He seems to get frustrated though by the pace you are walking at, still stumbling some as your legs failed to work correctly after the mind shattering release he brought you.

“Fuck this…” he sighs, bending over and motioning for you to climb on his back.

You do as told, wrapping your legs and arms around him. He carries you the rest of the way to his house, umbrella low to your heads.

His house, of course, is fucking huge.

He leads you through the garage, not letting go of you, and discarding the umbrella in a basket near the entrance.

Wasting no time he hurries upstairs, opening the door to his room. You throw your bag somewhere on the floor, taking your shoe off with each foot. He scoops you up again, throwing you unceremoniously onto the bed. His shoes come off before he crawls over you, leaning down and kissing you.

His hands are on your waist again, yours around his neck to pull him closer.

“Got to take these off, again. ” He rolls his eyes, exaggerating his words jokingly.

You smirk as he pulls them off, your shirt following. His eyes trail up and down your body, as if trying to memorize every detail. You start to feel uncomfortable, fidgeting a bit under his gaze. When he takes notice, he reaches his hands under you to unclasp your bra.

The material is tossed aside, his lips immediately latching onto your nipple. You gasp, back arching. His hand goes to your other tit, squeezing the softness then rolling your nipple in between his thumb and index finger. Your hips jut up, meeting his.

He detaches from you, only to tear his shirt off then reconnect his lips to your chest. You don’t even get a second to gawk at his perfect physique. His lips graze downwards, tongue licking a strip down the center of your stomach before reaching the band of your panties.

He bites the material, using his teeth to drag the material down past your thighs, then letting his hand take them off the rest of the way. He leans back, taking his sweatpants off, giving you time to stare now. He is perfect.

His hips are narrow, his body cut out perfect, his v-line has you obsessing. You eyes trail further down to where his dick is, a small damp mark visible due to his arousal.

“Like what you see?” He leans his weight onto one leg, placing a hand on his waist and tilting his head. His smile could kill.

“Very much.” You grin, sliding off the bed down to your knees in front of him.

Your hands run across his abs, then down to the waistband of his boxers. You pull them down to his feet in one swift motion. His cock springs up, precum painting the tip. You gawk for a moment before taking him in your hand, doing a few tester strokes. He bites back a groan, bottom lip caught between his teeth. You press a quick kiss to the top, then swirling your tongue around it briefly before drawing your head back again.

“Fuck… just like that.” He throws his head back, lacing his fingers into your hair.

You finally take him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down slowly, going further each time. His grip on your hair tightens, gently guiding your head. His tip starts hitting the back of your throat, his motions more forceful now, taking the lead.

You let him control your head, his hips bucking forward occasionally. He tilts his head back down to look at you, and suddenly stops. He pulls your head off of him. You look up at him confused, about to ask why he stopped. You don’t get the chance though, as he grabs your arm, lifts you up, and pushes you back onto the bed.

Your hair fans out, his lips on your neck instantly. His tip drags along your slit, teasing you. He grinds up against you, rubbing his length along your folds, up and down.

“‘Toru~” You whine out, begging him to just put it in.

He chuckles, smiling up at you. He lays a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before he finally lines up with your entrance, thrusting in fully. You let out a loud moan from the back of your throat, caught off guard.

“Fuck!” You scream out, caught off guard. You were burning up. The stretch stings, but the pain feels good. You feel so concious, every drop of sweat, every twitch of your legs or his cock, every hair poking at your face, it all feels so surreal.

“Goddamn…” He pants out, starting to pull out and thrust back in.

His pace is slow at first, but every time his hips hit against your ass you swear you are floating. The head of his cock pushes at you sweet spot, your body being pushed further and further up the bed with him.

As he accelerates, your moans string together, head beginning to tap the headboard.

“Fuck… you feel so good~” Gojo moans out, head hanging down, his hair tickling your neck. He leans in close to you, chests connecting, his lips finding purchase on yours.

He sucks on your tongue, a string of saliva connecting your mouths when he pulls away. The room is hot and smells like sex, your skin is sticking to his when he grasps your hips roughly. His nails dig into your waist, scratching downwards over your hipbone to your thighs. Your arms and legs are wrapped around him, pulling him in. Your fingers drag down his back, leaving red scratch marks from your nails.

“S-Satoru-” you call out, leaning your head forehead to look in his eyes. “I’m so close oh my god.”

He doesn’t speak, smirking. His eyes are glued to your entrance, his dick disappearing and reappearing into your hole. There is a slight ring around his cock, a mixture of sweat and your juices.

“Me too, darling. Just a little more, be a good girl and hold out a little longer, please.” He finally looks back at you, cerulean eyes filled with love and lust.

You whimper, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut as you feel the pit deep in your stomach beginning to overflow.

A couple more thrusts and you scream, throwing your head back to hit the headboard. Your legs shake around him, nails digging as hard as possible into his back, breaking the skin. You squeeze around him, a gutteral moan elicited from his lips when you do.

Desperate and sloppy, he thrusts into you faster than you thought was possible. His hips slap against your’s once, twice, and then a third time before he finally reaches his peak. He groans out, emptying hot ropes of white far into you. He slowly rocks his hips to ride out both of your orgasms, before finally pulling out and collapsing onto you.

You feel his cum leak out, whimpering at empty feeling. Without thinking, you slowly move your hand down your body, using two fingers to push his cum back into you.

He pushes himself up off of you, muttering something at the sight.

“We’re doing this again sometime.” He breathes out, laughing slightly as he lays beside you.

You only hum, eyes fluttering shut. Your body feels heavy, and it’s too hot to think or stay awake.

You feel the mattress sink slightly as Gojo turns to you, kissing your cheek. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close before you drift off to sleep.

He whispers something else, but you don’t hear it.

Three words.

#ao3 #fanfiction #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #jjk gojo

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