Text
RAW [M] â Lee Seokmin
⧠If you're a freak and you know it, clap them cheeks â§
In which Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend, fucks you raw for the first time, and ends up discovering his kinky side.
⧠Genre: domestic AU; SMUT [18+], established relationship â„ Pairing: female!reader x boyfriend!Lee Seokmin ⧠Word count: 6.3k+ ⊠Warnings: nsfw warnings under the cut! â Notes: hope y'all enjoy this little seok fic I wrote for you đ€ was feeling a little feral, so this concept fit my mood perfectly hehe â Shout out:  thanks to my amazing bestie @whipped-for-kpop-fics for making me this masterpiece of a banner AND helping me brainstorm for this one. This one really couldn't have happened without you and your shrexy brain! I love youuuuu đ and thank you thank you thank you @wonuvs for beta-reading this for me!! Very much appreciated :3
⥠REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED â DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS âĄ
nsfw warnings: outdoor/public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, spanking, raw sex (the title is there for a reason hehe), heavy breeding kink, feral seok dirty talk, messy creampie (pls let me know if I missed any!)
You had every intention to hang the wet laundry out to dry on this beautiful sunny day. It was a simple task, really, one you could have completed in less than five minutes had you not let yourself get distracted.Â
Said distraction came in the form of Lee Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend of four years, who had decided to take advantage of the nice weather and switch his usual gym session for a home workout in your garden.
It was quite the sight as he sat on the weight bench, his gorgeous sun-kissed arms and legs on full display, toned muscles pulling and coiling with every raise of his arms. His skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, making his brown locks stick messily to his forehead. It was almost as if he was chiseled by the gods themselves with how absolutely breathtaking he looked in the bright and glowy sunlight.
You had to resist looking over every few seconds as you attempted to put the laundry pieces on the clothes line. But as the minutes passed, you quickly discovered that trying to suppress the urge to gawk at your hot boyfriend was a battle you werenât going to win, especially when he was constantly releasing those sinful grunts that sent your mind into a frenzy.Â
Before you knew it, the laundry was long forgotten. The only thing that was going through your mind in that moment was how much you wanted â no, needed â to feel Seokminâs sweaty body against yours. Thanks to your busy and exhausting schedules, it had been a few days since you and your boyfriend last had sex, which, with a sex drive as high as yours, had driven your need for the man to an all time high.Â
It was time to do something about that.
Your legs were already moving on their own accord as your hungry gaze settled on Seokminâs thick thighs, a mischievous smile overtaking your features as you planned out your next move.
Your boyfriend was completely lost in his own world, totally oblivious to the thirsty thoughts floating around in your head as you crept up on him. The headphones he wore drowned out any distracting sounds as he focused on his reps, and with his eyes fully closed, he did not hear you approach him until it was already too late.Â
âWhat the fâ baby?!â Seokmin nearly dropped the two 8kg dumbbells he was holding when you jumped him out of nowhere, trapping him with your arms and legs like a clingy koala.Â
âThatâs me.â You giggled at the dazed look on your boyfriendâs face as you uncovered his ears.  Â
âWhatâs the meaning of this?â he breathed, carefully lowering his arms to place the dumbbells into the grass.
You licked your lips, shifting your hips slightly to get more comfortable. âWhat does it look like?â
âLike youâre trying to kill me,â he groaned before firmly planting his hands onto your sides to get you to stop rubbing against his crotch.Â
A sly grin tugged at the corners of your mouth. âThatâs what I was trying to go for.âÂ
âOh, were you now?â He raised his eyebrows. âI was almost done with my workout, you know?â
âHmm, that really sucks then.â You tangled your fingers in his messy hair.Â
âGive me five more minutes,â he mumbled, briefly closing his eyes at the feeling of your nails scratching along his sensitive scalp.Â
âNo,â you whined, immediately stopping all movement, much to your boyfriend's disappointment. âI need attention now. It's been too fucking long already.â
You didn't care how whiney you sounded. You needed him right at this moment, and you sure as hell weren't going to wait another minute, especially not for him to finish his damn workout.Â
âBut I'm sweaty,â he argued with a scrunch of his nose.Â
You smirked at that, tightening your grip on his hair as you moved in closer, your lips now less than an inch apart.Â
âEven better,â you whispered before teasingly brushing your lips against his. âYou're fucking hot when you're sweaty,â you continued, which was followed by you shifting your hips once again, this time with a little more force.Â
Seokmin released a sharp hiss at the throbbing sensation your hips left in their wake. The muscles in his thighs automatically tightened, and so did the grip on your waist, all of which you were more than excited about. You got him right where you wanted, and it was only a matter of time before he would take the bait.Â
âYou're the devil.â
âOnly when I have to be.â You grinned, your big twinkling eyes glued to his face as you slowly began to trail one of your hands down his chest. You only stopped when you reached the now very prominent bulge in his black shorts.Â
âFucking hell,â Seokmin cursed under his breath when you gave him a little experimental squeeze. It was just a simple touch, but he already felt the arousal gradually starting to overtake his mind and body. Just a minute ago, heâd been in full workout mode, but now he suddenly couldnât stop imagining you stuffed full with his cock, begging him to make you cum again and again until you could no longer move.Â
You took advantage of the moment and closed the little bit of distance between you to pull him into a deep kiss. Seokmin didnât resist, already having decided that heâd much rather spend his time pleasuring his pretty and horny girlfriend instead of finishing the remainder of his stupid arm reps. Besides, you were right. It had been a while since heâd gotten his dick wet, so if you wanted to change that, who was he to object?
It only took a few seconds before Seokminâs lips were just as hungry and forceful as yours, pulling at your mouth with an eagerness that made your gut clench with anticipation.Â
His hands navigated down to the swell of your ass, fingers digging roughly into the soft fabric of the yellow sundress you were wearing to press you into his growing erection. You moaned into the kiss at the sudden shift, your own hands moving to grasp at whatever piece of bare skin you could find as you felt yourself grow hotter by the second.Â
Your patience was slowly beginning to run thin the longer you sat in his lap with your panties soaked and your neglected cunt begging to be filled. You honestly hadn't felt this needy in a while, so you really didn't want to deprive yourself of Seokminâs dick for much longer. And you prayed that he felt the same.Â
You knew the man liked to drag the whole thing out with a shit ton of foreplay, which often included endless make out sessions and bringing you to multiple squirting climaxes before he even got to fuck you. It was the whole reason sex with Seokmin had become one of your favorite pastime activities in the first place.Â
Your boyfriend was a natural at pleasuring you, and he had been since day one. You quickly learned that faking pleasure and Seokmin could never belong in the same sentence. In fact, more often than not, youâve had to beg him to stop making you cum for fear of passing out from over stimulation. But even in those moments, he usually still managed to pull another few mind-shattering orgasms out of you like the magician he was, and you were certainly not complaining.Â
It was just that right now, in this particular moment, you needed him to skip the long foreplay and fastforward to the part where he fucked you stupid.Â
âMin, I need you inside me so bad,â you whimpered in between kisses, hoping your boyfriend would get the hint and give you just that.Â
He did not get it.Â
All you got out of it was an appreciative grunt and a harsh squeeze to your backside that did nothing to satiate the pulsing ache in your pussy.Â
Accepting that you were just going to have to speed things up yourself, your hand sneakily found the waistband of his shorts, fingers already tugging the material out of the way to grab a hold of his hard dick. If everything worked out in your favor, you'd be sitting on it within the next twenty seconds.Â
âFuck, baby,â Seokmin groaned, one of his hands clasping around your wrist before you even had the chance to wiggle your hand inside his shorts. âWhy don't we go inside before we start ripping off clothes, hmm?â
âNo.â Confusion. Thatâs the emotion that flashed across your boyfriendâs face at the sound of your outright no.Â
âNo? But I thought you wanted toâŠ?â He frowned, slightly loosening his hold on you when he thought you didnât want to continue.Â
You quickly wrapped his arms back around your waist before grasping his face in your hands.Â
âOh, I do.â A cheeky grin pulled at your mouth. âRight here. You're fucking me here.â
âRight here? O-outside?â Seokmin stuttered, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he seemed to process your words.Â
Although your sex life was pretty active and more than satisfying, you couldnât exactly call it adventurous. Despite many of your close friends believing that you and Seokmin were a couple of kinky fuckers, your sexual escapades were usually limited to your bedroom and definitely more on the vanilla side of the spectrum.Â
Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course. On the contrary, even the most vanilla sex with him felt a hundred times better than the riskier and more experimental sex youâd engaged in with some of your exes, so you didnât even really miss it. Still, sometimes â like right now â you wished heâd just throw you around and fuck you into the next day for everyone to see.Â
You were, however, very much aware that asking him to fuck you in the garden was a complete one-eighty from your usual bedroom adventures, and it could potentially get you caught by your nosy old neighbors, which was definitely a con. But then again, you were feeling unusually risky today, so you honestly couldn't care less who got to see you getting railed. Your only concern right now was soothing the ache in your throbbing cunt.Â
All you had to do was convince your lovely, handsome boyfriend to make that happen.Â
âYes, right here.â You nodded and reached up to undo the first two buttons of your dress, taking note of how your boyfriend's eyes automatically gravitated towards your fingers. âGot a problem with that?â
âWell, uhâŠâ Seokmin swallowed thickly as you popped three more buttons, exposing the strapless, lacy, white see-through bra you were wearing underneath. Your hard peaks were poking right through the flimsy material, which made it nearly impossible for him to rip his eyes away from the arousing sight. Your boyfriend was a sucker for your boobs â or any part of your body for that matter â which is exactly why you hoped the next part of your plan would work.
âI thinkâ uhâŠâ He tried to form a coherent sentence, but failed terribly when you popped another three buttons, his eyes following diligently as your action revealed the smooth skin of your stomach. âWhat Iâm trying to sâ thatâŠâ
By the time you popped the remaining three buttons, Seokmin had completely forgotten what he was going to say. His eyes were practically glued to your body, in particular to the matching see-through panties that left little to the imagination. They gave him a perfect view of your puffy folds and the arousal seeping through the already drenched material.Â
Seokmin was â understandably â having a hard time keeping it all together.
âWell?â You suppressed a grin to hide the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on your handsome boyfriend. âYou gonna help me undress or do I have to do everything myself?â
You got your answer when he planted his lips back on yours without another word, hardly giving you a second to breathe as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You instantly melted against him as your body flooded with heat once more, your hands fumbling to grasp onto his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself.Â
Seokminâs fingers made quick work of your bra, skillfully unclasping the constricting garment and throwing it carelessly in the grass. He took a moment to admire your newly exposed flesh, eyes darting from one nipple to the other before they drifted back down to the drenched panties hugging your cunt.Â
He subconsciously licked his lips as he imagined his face buried between your legs, drowning himself in the taste of your sweet juices while you screamed out his name.Â
âStop staring like a creep and do something, please.â Your hand was back in his hair, fingers tightly gripping onto his locks as you pulled at his head, forcing him to rip his eyes away from your pussy and back up to your face.Â
âYou want me to do something?â An amused smile took over your boyfriend's features as he took in your desperate expression.Â
âYes!â you nearly cried, feeling seconds away completely losing your shit. âI swear to god, Seokmin. If your dick is not inside me within the next twenty seconds Iâll dâ ah!â
You didnât get to finish the rest of your sentence as you were cut off by your own shriek, eyes going wide with shock as you gaped at a smug-looking Seokmin. Just a second ago, youâd been sitting in his lap, but now you suddenly found yourself trapped beneath him, sprawled out on the metal workout bench and completely at his mercy. Â
âYou'll do what, baby?â Seokmin smirked triumphantly at your stunned face.
âForget that,â you breathed, using the grip you had on his hair to pull him in for another kiss. âFuck, that was hot. I want more where that came from.â
âNoted.â His eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly, and you released the grip you had on his head to allow him to lean back further.Â
Your belly fluttered with anticipation when he moved the fabric of your dress aside to make contact with your bare skin. His hands teasingly began to trail down your sides, sending a series of tingles down your spine as you let your mind run wild with desire.Â
A shaky breath left your mouth when your boyfriend hooked his fingers into your underwear, excitement filling your body instantly. You were already starting to lift your hips, eager to help him get rid of the one thing separating your cunt from his hungry gaze.Â
What you didnât expect was for him to pin you back down and tear your panties right off your body with a single move. You were left speechless once again, watching as your boyfriend proudly held up the torn lace before letting it fall to the ground.Â
That was definitely going on your âHottest Lee Seokmin Momentsâ list. Â
âYouâre really trying to drive me insane over here,â you mumbled when youâd finally found your voice again.Â
âYou ask, I deliver.â Seokmin chuckled and continued to pull his shirt over his head in one smooth movement, revealing a set of mouthwatering glistening abs and a little dark happy trail that disappeared into his black shorts.
âGood.â Your eyes shifted back up to his with a new determination, your legs slightly opening to give him a nice view of your slick cunt. âThen Iâm asking you to fuck me next.âÂ
With one hand, you reached for the waistband of his shorts, fully intent on tugging it down just enough so you could pull his dick out and guide it into your dripping hole.Â
But Seokmin had other plans.Â
âNow what?â you whined when his hands stopped you mid-move, wrapping themselves around your wrists just like heâd done before.
What would it take for a girl to get some dick from her boyfriend?
âNot so fast, baby. I'm gonna take care of you first.â
You shook your head in protest. âBut I donât want to wait any longer, Min. Please.â
âDo you want my dick or not, baby?â Youâd never nodded faster. âThen be a good girl and spread those legs wider for me.â
That little command had you automatically spread your legs wider, a soft moan rolling off your lips as your walls clenched hard around nothing. Never in the time youâd been with Seokmin had he called you a good girl, but you found that you liked it⊠a lot. And you wouldnât mind if he called you that more often from now on.Â
âOh? Does my baby like being called a good girl?â Seokmin smirked, his dark orbs burning into your own as he pushed your legs back as far as you could manage.
âYes, fuck⊠so hot,â you whimpered, your legs twitching when you felt his hot breath ghost over your glossy cunt.Â
âKeep being good and Iâll keep calling you that,â he murmured right before dipping his tongue between your slick folds. Â
The debauched moan you released in response was enough to make Seokminâs cock jerk uncontrollably inside his shorts. In return, he released a deep groan of appreciation, sending a wave of delicious vibrations to your core that automatically had you try to clamp your legs around your boyfriend's head. But Seokmin, who was way ahead of you, had such a tight hold on your thighs that it was nearly impossible to move.Â
He used that grip to bury his entire face in your pussy, hardly giving himself room to breathe to completely drown himself in the taste of you, determined to get you to squirt your juices all over his face.Â
With his skillful tongue alternating between flicking and sucking on your sensitive clit, applying just the right amount of pleasure in all the right spots to bring you to the edge, it took less than a minute before you were moaning his name like a mad woman.
Seokmin relished in the lewd sounds he pulled from you, and the way you desperately gripped at his hair to steady yourself as he devoured you, completely drunk on the taste of your pussy. His dick was painfully hard, straining against the inside of his shorts, practically begging him to relieve some of that agonizing tension. But in all honesty, chasing his own pleasure was the last thing on his mind right now. All that mattered was you, your climax, and nothing else.
It was even at the point that he'd momentarily forgotten you were doing all of this outside, in the garden, where any neighbor would be able to hear or see the obscene things he was doing to you. Not too long ago, Seokmin would have reeled at the thought of engaging in risky public sex, but now, here he was, eating you out in the garden and enjoying every bit of it, not a single fuck given.Â
You found yourself in a similar position, eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body twitching and shuddering from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your nerves. It wasnât exactly how youâd planned things to go â still no dick â but it certainly helped quench the worst of your sexual cravings. The way the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue said enough.Â
âF-fuck thatâs gonna make me cum so fast, holy shit!â you whimpered when your boyfriend suddenly slid two of his long fingers inside you, immediately curling them up to press against that sensitive spot he knew would make you lose your mind.Â
Seokmin only hummed against your pussy, his eyes catching yours as the corners of his mouth tugged up into a devilish smirk. Then, his hand was speeding up, fingers mercilessly batting against your sweet spot while his tongue lapped at your swollen clit. He watched you succumb to the pleasure with hungry eyes, your face contorted in pure ecstasy as your moans got louder and louder the closer you got.Â
âYou like that, baby?â your boyfriend rasped, his mouth briefly detaching from your clit.Â
Your cunt clenched around his fingers in response, the only sound coming out of your mouth being a needy whine since you couldnât find it in yourself to come up with a sane response with how scrambled your mind was.
That was met with a sharp nip at your swollen nub.
âAnswer me,â Seokmin growled, apparently not satisfied with your lack of words.
You yelped loudly at the unexpected but very welcoming stinging sensation that had your nerves singing with pleasure. âShitâ yes! I fucking do!â
âThatâs a good girl,â he praised with a harsh slap to your inner thigh before taking your clit back between his wet lips.
The sound of the pet name unraveled something inside you, drawing every muscle in your body taut as you were abruptly thrown over the edge. The full force of your toe-curling orgasm caused you to cry out your boyfriendâs name, your legs trapping his head between your thighs while drenching his pretty face with your arousal.Â
Seokmin was perfectly content like that, groaning into your cunt like a starved man as he tried to catch every last drop of your slick with his mouth. Even when you began pushing at his head to get him away from your overstimulated pussy, it took him another twenty seconds before he finally detached himself, looking up at you with a dopey, satisfied grin and his chin dripping with your arousal.Â
âYouâre insatiable, Lee Seokmin,â you rasped, chest heaving as you tried to recover from the intense high youâd just experienced.Â
Said man leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss right below your belly button.
âYes,â He moved up slightly, this time placing a kiss right above it, âI am.â His lips trailed over your breast, goosebumps forming along the way, âButâŠâ He nipped at your neck, âyouâŠâ he whispered, his lips hovering right above yours, âwere so good for me,â he finished, capturing your lips into another heated kiss.
The taste of yourself on your boyfriendâs lips lit a new fire inside your belly, your skin flushing hot with a new surge of desire. It also didnât help that his hands were back on your thighs, kneading and rubbing at them, making every one of your nerve endings come back to life under his scorching touch.Â
âMin, get your dick out and fuck me,â you mumbled against his lips, determined to not take no for an answer this time.Â
Seokmin was fully prepared to give into your demands this time, no longer wanting to tease you because he was feeling just as desperate and eager to be inside you. There was, however, just one little thing he hadnât thought of before. But now with you sprawled out before him in all your naked glory, begging for his cock, the little voice in the back of his mind decided to make an appearance.Â
âFuck.â He grimaced. âJust hold on, okay? Iâll be right back,â he said, leaning forward to kiss you softly before making a move to get up.Â
You quickly grabbed onto his arm to stop him, confusion taking over your features at the sudden switch in mood. Â
âWait! Where are you going?â
âCondoms⊠donât have any on me. Iâll quickly grab one from inside.â
âWe donât need them,â you blurted out, immediately biting your bottom lip when you realized what you'd said.
Seokminâs eyes visibly widened at your bold suggestion. âBut you're not on any birth control. I could actually get you pregnant.â
âWould it really be that bad?â At that, the manâs eyes nearly bulged out of his head.Â
The topic of kids was nothing new between the two of you. It had come up on multiple occasions during the span of your relationship, and it was pretty clear that both you and Seokmin loved kids. The both of you always jumped at the chance of babysitting his two year-old nephew whenever Seokminâs sister and her husband needed someone to watch him, happy to spoil him and play with him as if he was your own.Â
It was no secret that you wanted a big family, and so did Seokmin, so that wasnât the reason he was a little hesitant to fuck you without protection. He just really didnât want you to regret anything if you did end up pregnant by the end of it, because a child was a big responsibility after all.Â
But he also couldnât deny that he wasnât tempted by the idea of your warm walls hugging his dick without anything in the way, and being able to empty his load inside your greedy, slick-covered hole like heâd always wanted to do.Â
It was hard not to give in to that, especially when you were looking at him with those big, seductive eyes of yours.
âBaby, Iâm serious.â
âSo am I,â you shot back, a mix of determination and lust adorning your face as you challenged your boyfriend.Â
Seokmin frowned, running a hand through his damp hair. âWe should think about thisâŠâ
âI already did, and I want this. I wanna feel you⊠all of you⊠inside me.â You looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster.Â
âFuck, youâre not making it easy for me,â your boyfriend sighed, feeling completely torn between doing the responsible thing and giving in to his carnal desires.Â
âThen stop thinking and just fill me with cum.â
Seokmin gulped, letting out a shaky breath as he felt himself slowly start to lose the battle.
âShit. Are you absolutely sure about this? Is this really what you want, baby?â he asked, placing his hands on either side of the bench to cage you in.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up to touch your nose to his. âIf you're asking me if I want you to fuck a baby in me then yes, I totally want that,â you breathed, a small smile gracing your face.
Seokminâs dick twitched in his shorts at your declaration, unlocking a new level of desire that he didnât know existed. His body was full-on buzzing, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he felt the gears in his mind switch to a whole different setting.Â
You noticed the change in your boyfriend the moment the words had left your lips, the uncertain expression that had been on his face just now making way for a much more ominous expression, one you didnât quite recognize.Â
âMin?âÂ
âBend over.âÂ
âO-okay.â The slight edge to his tone had you scrambling to turn around for him, nearly causing you to fall off the bench in the process as your legs got tangled up in your dress. You planned to rip the clothing piece off your body to make your life easier, but the sudden hand pinning your wrist to your back made that impossible.
âDress stays on,â your boyfriendâs low voice sounded from behind you as you felt him flip up the material to reveal the supple skin of your ass.
You were about to protest, but the harsh slap to your behind that followed made you think twice about opening your mouth. The impact of his hand connecting with your tender skin pulled a soft whine from you, leaving you with a pleasant stinging sensation that sent a hot streak of arousal right down to your pussy.Â
There was barely any time to recover from the first slap before he delivered a second one, this one even more intense and brutal than the last one, forcing you to fight down a scream as you jolted forward, barely able to keep your balance since you only had one hand available to steady yourself.Â
Your boyfriend was no stranger to delivering the occasional slap to your ass, but it had always been in a loving kind of way and never like this⊠so rough and thrilling. So if this kind of spanking was your boyfriendâs reaction to seeing you bent over in your half-discarded dress, then you had no problem keeping it on.
âSuch a good girl for me,â Seokmin groaned, his cock twitching once again as he watched your ass jiggle for a third time when his hand reconnected with your delicate flesh. You could only moan in response as you felt yourself get wetter with every slap, hand gripping onto the bench for dear life while you let your boyfriend have his way with you.Â
Only after the tenth slap or so, when Seokmin noticed your legs were close to giving out on you, he released the wrist he was holding and allowed you to take a breather while he rushed to shove his shorts and underwear down his legs, finally freeing the raging boner heâd been neglecting for the past twenty minutes.
The man didnât waste any time as he grabbed onto your waist with one hand, lining up his engorged tip with your dripping cunt with the other.Â
A shudder ripped through him when he pushed forward, greedy eyes fixed on his cock disappearing between your ass cheeks, slowly getting enveloped by your tight walls as they made room for him.Â
It was unlike any feeling Seokmin had ever experienced. Although he was barely halfway inside, he was sure he wasnât going to last as long as he usually would have. Without the usual barrier in the way, he was able to feel it all, every little sensation â the warmth radiating off your walls as he slid in further, your creamy slick drenching his cock from head to base â it took everything in him to stop himself from bursting as he imagined how good youâd look with your ripe cunt stuffed full of his seed.Â
Seokminâs pupils were fully blown by the time your ass connected with his pelvis, his jaw clenched and the grip on your waist bordering on bruising as he momentarily stilled to let you both get used to the new feeling.Â
You werenât doing much better, trying to deal with the blissful ache whirling in your stomach as you tried to accommodate the familiar stretch. Only this time, you were able to actually feel the bulging veins forking along his length as they throbbed against your inner walls in the most intoxicating way.Â
âShit, Min,â you moaned, tightening your grip on the bench, âJust fuck me already. Feels so damn good like this.â
At your plea, Seokmin pulled his hips back slightly, slowly dragging his throbbing tip along your sensitive walls before abruptly burying his entire girth back inside your warm cunt with a loud groan.
âYeah? Like that?â
âYes⊠harder,â you whined, impatiently wiggling your ass in search of more of that delicious friction.Â
âFucking gladly,â he muttered, moving one of his hands to your shoulder before repeating the motion again, only this time with a lot more force and speed, which earned him a series of salacious moans that went straight down to his pulsing cock. Â
It didn't take long for Seokmin to completely lose every bit of sanity he possessed as he vigorously drove his hips into your ass, your pussy squelching loudly every time his cock slammed back inside your slippery hole.Â
Heâd never felt like this before⊠fully overtaken by this primal need to breed you like the good girl you were, completely set on ruining you with his cock and stuffing load after load of cum inside your hot cunt until you couldnât fit anymore.Â
The regular Seokmin, aka the sweet man who made you breakfast every day and made sure you had absolutely everything you could wish for, would have been a messy blushing puddle with all these nasty thoughts running through his mind. But this Seokmin, the pussy drunk, sex-crazed man who was fucking you as if his life depended on it, only felt himself get more riled up with every new lewd thought that entered his mind, not feeling bashful in the slightest.Â
You honestly didnât know where the hell this Seokmin had come from, but you hoped that this wouldnât be the last of him. His rough thrusts had you feeling like a complete wreck in the best sense of the word, causing you to release an obscene number of sounds you didnât even know you could make. It was no doubt the best dicking your boyfriend had ever given you, but too much for your body to keep up â you discovered that when your legs suddenly decided to give out on you mid-thrust.Â
Fortunately, your boyfriend was prepared and caught you just in time, firmly wrapping one of his beefy arms around your tits to press you against his bare chest, while his free hand clamped around your neck, forcing you to tilt your head up to the clear blue sky as he continued to pound into your sopping cunt.Â
âFuck, gonna fill this pussy,â Seokmin growled into your ear, his breath hot against the side of your face. âGonna fill it with my cum, fucking show the world youâre mine⊠get your pretty belly round with my baby,â he continued, never slowing down his unrelenting pace.
âGod, yes!â you moaned, eyes once again rolling to the back of your head as your walls fluttered in response to the filth rolling off your boyfriendâs tongue.Â
âDirty girl. You like the thought of me fucking a baby into you?â
âY-yes, fuck⊠want it, want your baby!âÂ
You didnât think it was possible but Seokminâs hips sped up even more after youâd said that, making you cry out loud as you clung onto his forearm to center yourself.
âGonna fill you up like you deserve, stuff you full till you canât walk. This pussy is fucking mine⊠mine to claim.â Seokmin had fully lost himself at this point, spewing all the filth he could think of, completely and utterly enthralled by your sweet raw cunt sucking him in so deliciously.
âOh god, Min, need you to cum in me,â you rasped, feeling the coil in your stomach start to wind and tighten as your boyfriend continuously battered against your sweet spot.Â
âSo fucking desperate. Such a good girl.â That was the moment Seokmin released your throat and lowered his hand to attach his fingers to your clit, rubbing sloppy figure eights into it while his dick continued to stretch you out.
âFaster⊠faster,â you urged, feeling your body tense at the sudden surge of pleasure shooting through you.Â
Seokmin listened to your pleas and sped up his fingers.
âOh, fuck, right there,â you whined, feeling like you couldnât hold it anymore. âGonna cum⊠gonna cum!â
White briefly flashed before your eyes as you came with a choked gargle of your boyfriendâs name, your cunt clenching around his cock as your body shook violently from the overwhelming sensations.Â
Seokmin didnât stop at that, feeling like he was seconds away from reaching his own high. With your fluttering cunt continuing to hold his dick in a chokehold, and you begging for his cum in his ear, it didnât take him long to get there.Â
With one last well-timed thrust, Seokmin buried himself all the way inside you, letting his own orgasm wash over him as he felt the first spurts of cum coat your inner walls. Both of you groaned in delight at the unfamiliar but arousing feeling of Seokminâs cum filling you up for the first time.Â
Heat bloomed inside you as your boyfriend continued to spill inside you, holding tightly onto you as he rode out the remainder of his climax.Â
âFuck, Min, so much cum,â you whimpered when you felt his seed begin to drip out of your swollen cunt and down your thighs. Thatâs how much there was. It felt like there was no end to it.Â
âPussy feels so fucking good, canât stop cumming,â he panted against your neck, moving his hands to rest on the smooth skin of your stomach.
You smirked, tightening your walls momentarily to pull a little whine from your boyfriend.
âWell, letâs say that Iâm not complaining.â
Only when Seokminâs cock had fully softened and there really was no more cum to give, he reluctantly pulled out of you, not being able to stop himself from gawking at the big globs of cum dripping out of your pussy with his cock no longer holding it in.Â
âMin?â
âHuh?âÂ
Despite your extremely wobbly legs, you managed to turn around and threw yourself at the man in front of you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stared into his eyes with a cheeky smile on your face.Â
âI love you, you know that? Youâre a fucking freak!âÂ
Seokminâs cheeks began to flush at your exclamation, his eyes quickly averting yours in an attempt to escape your intense gaze.Â
âOhâŠ. uh, that? WellâŠâ he stammered, one of hands coming up to rub at his neck.
âAre you seriously acting all shy on me now when you just fucked my brains out?â You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief.Â
âWell, when you put it like thatâŠâ He chuckled, a dopey grin on his face.
âPromise me youâre gonna show this side of you more often.â
Seokmin raised his brows in surprise. âYou sure? It wasnât too much?â
âFuck no.â You shook your head. âIt was definitely some of the best dick youâve given me.â
âI guess I have no choice then, do I?â He smiled widely.
âNope. Besides,â You leaned in to kiss him softly before whispering seductively, âif you wanna give me a baby, we better do that many more times, just to be sure.â
âYouâre absolutely right.â Then your boyfriend scooped you up without another word, your surprised shriek echoing through the garden as he hurried to rush you inside the house, eager to do it all over again.
© All rights reserved â ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!
HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS LITTLE SEOK SMUT HEHE! Would be amazing to hear your thoughts on this one đ and PLEASE look forward to the next one đ I got some good ideas planned for y'all!
â if you want to be added to my PERMANENT tag list for upcoming works (MAINLY NSFW, SO 18+), leave a comment below or send me an ask, but be sure to mention PERMANENT TAG LIST if you choose to send an ask! If you wish to be removed, also send me an ask!
â ïž Please note that this is NOT the same tag list as the SEVENTEEN World one!
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
things you do that make svt bust quick (nsfw)
seungcheol â; tell him how good heâs doing
heâs a leo male⊠please stroke his ego.
tell him how you love his cock, how big he is, how it hits so deep inside you. tell him âright there,â and âkeep going,â and to do it âjust like that.â
stroke his possessive side too. tell him no one else can fuck you like he can, no one else can stretch you out so good, no one else can make you cum like he does. tell him that your pussy is made for him only.
be loud for him. god, he loves hearing you moan. say his name, beg for more, sob, whimper, gasp for him. donât be shy about it. itâll only be a matter of time before you butter him up enough to make him cum.
jeonghan â; beg
everyone knows yoon jeonghan likes having people at his mercy. he gets a little unhinged when he has power over someoneâso imagine what he gets like when youâre writhing on his cock, gasping his name so sweetly, your eyes glimmering with tears as he fucks you hard.
âwhat is it, pretty?â he asks, and like the devil he is, he slows the movement of hips, pulling out of you until his tip barely kisses your also weeping hole. itâs torture for him too, to leave the hot, tight haven that is your cunt, but to him itâs worthwhile.
âwanna cum, hannie,â you whimper.
âhm⊠i donât know if i should let you yet,â he says, dipping back inside just an inch. years of him being yours means you donât miss the tiny strain in his voice that betrays his perfectly collected demeanour.
âplease, hannie, please, please, please, let me cum. iâve been so good,â you sob, squeezing your thighs where they rest on his hips.
you watch as a switch flips in his eyes within a millisecond. a grin lights up his face and he shudders, and heâs sliding back inside you, fucking in and out of you harder and faster than before. safe to say it doesnât take long for either of you to cum after that.
joshua â; make eye contact
his pretty doe eyes make staring into them your favourite thing in the world, and if you asked him his favourite pastime, heâd tell you that it was gazing into your irises.
itâs also his biggest weakness. from the way youâve got your mouth wrapped around his dick, throat gagging even though youâre only halfway down it, joshua feels his sanity slipping away. his fingers curl into the bedsheets below as he watches you work him, revels in the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his shaft.
when your eyes flick up to meet his he doesnât stand a chance. not with how glimmering they are, brimming softly with tears, yet swimming with adoration. with worship.
heat washes over his whole body, heâs gasping, and the salty warmth of his release pools on your tongue.
jun â; put his fingers in your mouth
when junhui gets inside you he has a one-track mind. he becomes rapt with pleasure, drunk from the warm squeeze of your pussy around him, focused on nothing but the sensation of you, the sight of you under him, the sound of you in his ears.
the effect you have on him is dangerous, because youâre equally obsessed with him as he is with you, and youâre not afraid to show him.
and you love his hands, he knows you doâknows how you love his slender fingers and their soft touches all over you, inside you. your brain is cloudy, fogged by lust when you take him by his wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth. your eyes sparkle as your lips wrap around his index finger, your soft tongue swirling around it.
junâs mouth parts with awe, his eyes growing round. a second later, he stills inside you with a gasp of your name, like heâs praying to you, all the while youâre sucking on his finger like a devil.
hoshi â; scratch him
heâs a little bit of a freak, and a masochist too.
when heâs got you folded in half, hitting all the right spots inside you, you cling to him in every way you canâfingers grabbing at his biceps, his shoulders. one particular stroke of his hips has you squealing.
your nails sink into his skin, crying out his name as you rake them down the toned planes of his back. the second you do, soonyoung is grunting, hips stilling, cock twitching as a sticky warmth suddenly floods your cervix.
the worst part about it is how he always has the stupidest, most shit-eating smug grin on his face when he examines your damage in the bathroom after, and you know that if he could, he would post the selfies he takes in the mirror all over instagram. whatâs even worse though? seeing your marks makes him hard again.
wonwoo â; cry
youâre such a sensitive little thing and wonwoo adores you. one orgasm on his fingers and youâre already overstimulatedââbut baby, i havenât even put my cock in you yet,â heâll coo.
like itâs your fault you have a boyfriend with skilled fingers and a skilled tongue and who knows you inside and out like the back of his hand, who knows where to touch you and how hard and what pace makes you writhe the most.
by the time he does get inside you, youâre gasping and whining and clawing at him, tears springing to your eyes because heâs so big and so deep, but the stretch is so addictive that itâs dizzying. his voice is low and husky as he mutters to you a mixture of teases and praise, calls you his pretty girl and then laughs at sensitive you are, pretends heâs not on the verge of coming from the sound of your choked gasps.
your belly starts to pulse with that familiar heat and by then youâre keening for him, whimpering a mixture of his name and endless pleas as it starts to become too much. your sobs go straight to his cock, and itâs only a matter of time before he reaches his climax, and his gasps of pleasure harmonise with your own cries.
woozi â; pull his hair
heâs been growing his hair out. after all your begging, he finally listened. in a way, though, itâs backfired a little on you, because the longer it gets the more insane you become. and the thing is you never expected him to let it get to his shouldersâand still he doesnât plan on cutting it. well, good. you would kill him if he did.
when his face is between your legs youâre nothing short of a feral animalâyour hips bucking wild against his mouth, your legs trembling on his shoulders, your fingers, of course, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. he makes you whine when he pulls away from your needy, sticky cunt to tsk at you, tells you to cut it out and keep your hands to yourself. (itâs because heâs about to cream his pants).
when he bends you in half beneath him, ruts into you hard and fast and relentless, you need leverage. your hands land on the back of his neck, fingertips grazing at his roots, then one slam of his hips into yours has his cock bumping against the most sensitive spot inside you and your grasping at his hair and crying his name so desperately. no longer can he hold back, strained groans slipping past his lips as he lets go inside you.
dokyeom â; hold his hand
a sentimental sweetheart, seokmin is an utter romantic who thinks that being inside of you, whether in your mouth or your pussy, is intimacy in its purest form. now imagine showing him just how much more intimate things can get.
heâs losing his mind at the feeling of your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, the way you swallow his length down making him see stars. he canât bare to look at youâhe needs to focus on taking deep breaths so that he doesnât cum straight down your throat. then he feels you grabbing at one of his hands, lacing your fingers together, and no amount of deep breathing can stop him from releasing.
and when he fucks you itâs no differentâitâs him in near tears, whimpering your name between incoherent words over and over, and as soon as you take his hand in yours and your fingers wrap around his, thereâs nothing else he can do but succumb to his own pleasure.
mingyu â; take control
heâs big and strong; strong enough to put you into whatever position he wants, to make you cum at his command, to do just as he pleases with you.
but thatâs exactly why he likes it when you slap him around a little.
you canât exactly bend him into doggy or use your weight to keep him pinned to the mattress, but you can sit yourself pretty on his cock and ride him teasingly slow. you can tell him heâs not allowed to touch you or youâll stop moving. you can tell him to kiss you, to go slower, to go harder.
you can sit up and put a hand around his throat, still your hips, and tell him he can fuck you himself if he wants to cum. and heâll do just thatâand as soon as you utter the words, heâs gone, whining out curses as he fills you up in white, warm spurts.
minghao â; whisper in his ear
minghao often tells you how he adores your voice. when you talk to him heâs entranced, and heâs always been more of a listener than a talker, and itâs perfect because you always have so much to say, and minghao will listen to every last word of yours.
your voiceâminghaoâs kryptonite, his achillesâ heel, his undoing and, oh, the way you moan for him when heâs got you on his cock is enough to make his heart stop beating. the perverted part of him wishes he could record you, hide the file away on his phone and listen to you when heâs overseas and he canât call you. maybe heâll ask you about that, if he can find the courage.
the final blow is when youâre getting close. you lean in, right next to his ear, so close that your breath sends shivers along his skin. âplease, hao, iâm so close,â you whisper, yet you still sound so desperate and depraved. âyou are too, right? cum for me, please. iâll cum for you too.â
so he does just thatâminghao gives in and lets his orgasm wash over him, fingertips drawing circles on your clit until mere moments later he hears the sound of your own cresting pleasure and he feels himself getting hard again.
seungkwan â; wrap your legs around him
itâs a fact that seungkwan loves to be close to you. if he could, he would crawl inside of your skin and live in your heart. but since he canât, constant physical touch is the next best thing.
he likes to think he has relatively good self-controlâŠmost of the time. like when heâs buried to the hilt inside you, heâs incredible at keeping in rhythm, fucking into you at the most perfect pace for both you and him, hitting the spot that makes your back arch off the bed.
somehow he never sees it comingâwhen your arms are snaked around his neck and youâre holding onto him for dear life as he takes you to heaven, and your legs wrap around his waist so that you can pull him in impossibly deep. then you bring his face to yours, and you have the most irresistible little pout on your face when you make your request. âcum inside me, seungkwannie?â
and itâs not like he has much choice with the way youâve trapped him inside of you, but thatâs the very reason why the next second heâs pumping you full, because when itâs you, how is he supposed to have any self-control?
vernon â; touch yourself
itâs not like vernon can last long in general. he thinks youâre the hottest thing alive and heâs so enamoured with you that itâs too much for him sometimes, but you best believe heâll put his all into holding out just for you.
there are times, however, where heâs just a man. and whatâs a man to do when he has a goddess riding his dick? when your tits look so pretty, bouncing in his face, when you have that fucked out look in your eyes, when you feel like heaven and hell all at once?
and what the fuck is a man to do when your hand drifts down between your legs, to your aching clit, and your fingers start to rub it in circles, or when your other hand grasps one of your tits and tugs at one of your own nipples? and your sweet pussy clenches around him so tight when you do, clamps down on him in an hot, wet embrace, so what else can he do but cum?
dino â; say âi love youâ
another sweet, sentimental boy. lee chan is head over heels for you, enamoured, obsessed, smitten, infatuated with you⊠the list of things he is around you is endless.
it shows in the way he fucks youâalways takes his time with you, never rushes taking you apart. every touch of his is intentional, meant to set you both ablaze. when he eats you out to prep you for his cock, he has to try not to cum in his pants from how pretty you are.
where he really doesnât stand a chance however is when heâs bottomed out inside you, as close as he can possibly be with youâso close youâre practically one. the sweetest sounds fall from your lips, spurring on his expert thrusts.
his forehead is plastered to yours, the pair of you revelling in one anotherâs sweat and gasps for air. âi love you,â you confess gently, and chan falls over the edge of pleasure not a moment later.
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
WAITING ROOM âââ
Ë



ê° âïč pairing: heeseung x fem!reader ... ïč friends to lovers, fluff ... ïč w/c: 21k synopsis: for three years, you and heeseung have hovered between friendship and something moreâstolen glances, late-night car rides, hands brushing under tables. but when the waiting finally ends, you realize you were never just friends to begin with. ê° âïč warnings: smut, mdni! explicit sexual content, petnames, unprotected sex (dont do it!!!!) not proofread đż % (â ïčâ âż) #nowplaying: waiting room - phoebe bridgers
Three years ago, you met Heeseung at a Halloween party. And, in a way, he never really left.
You remember the night in sharp, neon clarity, the kind that only exists in memories warped by time and too many cheap drinks. The bass of the music was rattling against the walls, distorting into something unrecognizable by the time it reached your ears. The air was thick, humid with the breath of a hundred strangers crammed into an apartment too small to hold them. It smelled like spilled alcohol, synthetic fog from a cheap smoke machine, and the faintest trace of cinnamon, probably from some idiot who thought Fireball was a good idea.
You were standing in the kitchen, gripping a plastic cup half-full of something blue and questionably sweet, when you felt it. The warmth of someone moving too close. The press of a shoulder against yours. And thenâdisaster.
A smear of green, across your arm, your ribs, your stomach.
You stared at it, confused. It looked like paint. Wet, sticky, and clinging to the fabric of your skeleton costume like it belonged there. You blinked once, twice, before dragging your gaze upward, locking eyes with the culprit.
âOh, shit.â
He was green. No, really, he was covered in it, from his jawline to his collarbone, down his arms, streaked across his hands. He was, in fact, one of the Ninja Turtles.
âAre you radioactive?â you asked, because that felt like a genuine concern at this point.
Heeseungâthough you didnât know his name yetâblinked at you, then looked down at his own arm as if just realizing that, yeah, maybe painting his entire body for a costume wasnât the best idea. âI, uhâfuck, I didnât thinkââ
âDidnât think what?â you repeated, glancing down at your once-pristine skeleton costume. âThat maybe body paint takes a while to dry?â
âNo, see, I thought it was dry. I waited, like, an hour before putting the costume on.â He sounded both defensive and regretful, like someone who had just now realized the full extent of their mistake.
You sighed, poking at the stain. âWell, congrats. Youâve officially made me the first skeleton in history to die of green slime exposure.â
He let out a breath of laughter, then scratched the back of his neckâa habit youâd later come to recognize as his go-to nervous tic. âOn the bright side⊠at least now you match me?â
You narrowed your eyes. âYouâre trying to make me feel better.â
âIs it working?â
âNot even a little.â
A slow grin spread across his face, lopsided and teasing. âDamn. Guess Iâll have to try harder.â
And he did.
That was the beginning of it, you suppose. A stupid mistake, an even stupider conversation, and a boy painted green who somehow managed to wedge himself into your life like he belonged there. You didnât know then that heâd become your best friend. That in three years, youâd be sitting next to him in a car at two in the morning, singing along to songs you didn't really know. That youâd learn the exact way he liked his coffee, the rhythm of his breath when he fell asleep next to you on your couch, the way he always looked at you like he was on the verge of saying something important but never quite did.
No, back then, all you knew was that he was an idiot. And that, somehow, against all oddsâyou kind of liked him anyway. But you and Heeseung became friends by accident.
It wasnât an immediate thing, not like some cosmic force snapped its fingers and tied the two of you together. No, it was slower than that, more like a series of small collisions, a gradual intertwining of orbits. And most of it had to do with Yunjin.
You and Yunjin had been friends since the beginning of college. One of those friendships that happens fast, like flipping a switch. One day, you were just two people forced into the same group project, and the next, you were sneaking snacks into late-night study sessions, texting each other memes at 3 a.m., and laughing until your stomach hurt over things that werenât even that funny. She was the kind of person you felt like you had known forever, even though it had only been a few years.
But somehow, despite all that time, you had never actually registered who she lived with. You knew she had a roommateâsheâd mentioned him in passing a few times, usually accompanied by an exasperated sigh or an eye rollâbut you had never put much thought into it. The guy couldâve been a faceless NPC for all you cared. Just a background character in the world of Yunjinâs apartment. Until one fateful Tuesday afternoon.
You had gone over to Yunjinâs place to work on a mind-numbing, soul-draining research paper, and the two of you were sitting cross-legged on her living room floor. The atmosphere was calm, quietâat least, until the front door swung open with the force of someone dramatically entering a scene in a sitcom.
âYUNJIN,â a voice rang through the apartment, loud and excited. âI JUST BOUGHT ZELDA: BREATH OF THE WILD. I NEED TO PLAY IT IMMEDIATELY.â
You barely had time to process before the source of the chaos came bounding into the room. A guy, slightly breathless from what must have been a very passionate journey home, clutching a Nintendo Switch game case like it was the most important thing in the world.
And he was green.
Well, not literallyâhe wasnât still covered in body paintâbut your brain made the connection instantly. The excitement, the unfiltered enthusiasm, the slight air of someone who had been making questionable life decisions since birth.
It clicked.
âOh my god,â you blurted. âYouâre the Ninja Turtle guy.â
Heeseung froze mid-step, eyes flickering to you like he was only now realizing there was another person in the room. For a second, he just stared, lips parted in muted shock, like you had just caught him committing a crime.
Then, in a tone that was both confused and slightly mortified, he said, âOh. Uh. Yeah. Thatâs me.â
You squinted at him, taking in the full pictureâthe messy hair, the slightly wrinkled hoodie, the expression of someone who had absolutely not been expecting to relive his Halloween mistakes today. Then, you turned to Yunjin.
âYou live with the Ninja Turtle guy?â
Yunjin, who had been watching this interaction unfold with barely concealed amusement, grinned. âI guess.â
Heeseung cleared his throat, regaining some of his composure. âFor the record, my name is Heeseung.â
âReally?â you said, nodding slowly. âI thought your name was Donatelloâ
He looked mildly offended. âExcuse me?â
âWell,â you said, gesturing vaguely, âI feel like I at least deserve to know which turtle was responsible for my suffering. I thought it was Donatello.â
Heeseung rolled his eyes but played along. âLeonardo. Sunghoon was Raphael, Beomgyu was Michelangelo, and Jake was Donatello.â
You considered this for a second, then turned back to Yunjin. âI canât believe you live with Leonardo.â
Yunjin, deadpan, replied, âTrust me, I canât either.â
And that was the second collision.
You didnât know it then, but this was how it would always be with Heeseungâdramatic entrances, loud declarations, and an energy that burst into the room like an unexpected firework. You had met him twice now, and both times, he had been the human embodiment of chaos. But for some reason, that chaos felt a little less like a background character now. And after that day, Heeseung stopped being just Yunjinâs roommate.
You started seeing him everywhere. Not because you were seeking him outânot at first, anywayâbut because he had a tendency to appear in your life like some kind of recurring side character in a sitcom. Youâd be minding your own business in Yunjinâs apartment, and heâd burst through the door, ranting about how someone stole his favorite study spot in the library. Youâd go to grab coffee before class, and there heâd be, dramatically arguing with the barista about why oat milk was a scam. He just kept showing up, like the universe had decided that, for better or worse, he was part of your story now.
And then, you found out you had a class together. It wasnât a real class. Not in the sense that it required effort or critical thinking. It was one of those ridiculous elective courses that the university offered purely to fill up credit requirementsâsomething slapped onto the catalog as an afterthought, designed for students who were too lazy or too exhausted to take anything serious.
You had signed up for it without even reading the description, choosing it solely because it fit into your schedule and had a reputation for being an easy A. Heeseung, apparently, had done the same.
That was how the two of you ended up in "The Philosophy of Memes and Internet Culture."
The class was exactly as stupid as it sounded. The professor was a guy in his late 40s who still said things like âepic failâ unironically. The syllabus included assignments like âanalyzing the impact of Vine on modern humorâ and âwriting a 500-word essay on the evolution of the Rickroll.â It was the kind of class that could only exist in a university desperate to appear progressive and relevant, and you were 90% sure the school administration had no idea it was happening.
It was, in short, the best class either of you had ever taken.
You and Heeseung immediately became the worst students in the room. Not because you werenât paying attention, but because you were paying attention too muchâfinding everything so absurdly hilarious that neither of you could take it seriously. Every lecture felt like a fever dream. Every assignment was an excuse to see how much nonsense you could get away with before the professor caught on.
And then, of course, came the group project. It was a simple assignment: pick a meme, trace its origins, and present its cultural impact. Most people chose something predictableâDoge, Grumpy Cat, Distracted Boyfriend.
You and Heeseung, however, chose Shrek. More specifically, you chose Shrekâs cultural legacy as an ironic meme figure.
It was supposed to be a joke. A way to entertain yourselves in a class that was already ridiculous. But the further you got into your research, the more serious it became.
Somewhere along the way, you and Heeseung stopped just pretending to care and actually started caring. You spent hours deep-diving into obscure Shrek forums, analyzing the rise of âShrek is Love, Shrek is Lifeâ discourse, debating whether or not the characterâs internet resurgence was fueled by genuine appreciation or detached irony. You became scholars of the Shrek Renaissance.
The night before your presentation, you were in Yunjinâs apartment, sitting on the floor with your laptops open, surrounded by a mess of half-empty snack bags and unfinished slides. The clock blinked 2:37 AM, and neither of you had any business still being awake.
Heeseung was slouched against the couch, staring at his screen with the expression of a man who had seen too much. âI think I know too much about Shrek,â he said, voice hollow.
You let out a dramatic sigh, rubbing your temples. âYeah. We flew too close to the sun on this one.â There was a beat of silence.
Then, Heeseung slowly turned his laptop around, revealing a slide titled âShrek and the Post-Ironic Era of Internet Humor: A Critical Analysis.â And for some reason, that was it. That was the moment you broke.
Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the fact that you had just spent the past three hours watching deep-fried Shrek memes with Gregorian chants in the background. Maybe it was just the sheer, stupid absurdity of the entire situation. But suddenly, you were laughing.
Not just laughingâcackling. The kind of breathless, full-body laughter that made your stomach hurt. That made you feel like you were going to die right there on Yunjinâs living room floor, lost to the void of Shrek academia.
And Heeseungâpoor, equally sleep-deprived Heeseungâwas right there with you. He doubled over, gasping for air, his head nearly colliding with your shoulder as he choked out, âWeâre never recovering from this.â
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You turned to him, trying to catch your breath, and found him already looking at you. His eyes were crinkled at the edges, his cheeks flushed from laughter, his whole body still shaking slightly from the aftermath. And for a momentâjust a momentâyou thought, this is nice.
Not just the laughing. Not just the inside jokes and the chaos.
But him.
You pushed the thought away before it could settle.
Because, at the end of the day, Heeseung was your friend. Your dumbass friend who still had green body paint under his fingernails two weeks after Halloween. Who got irrationally angry at mobile game ads. Who had just spent the last six hours dissecting Shrek memes with you like it was a matter of academic integrity.
And that was all he was.
Right?
Heeseung, on the other hand, wasnât sure when it started. That feeling.
That weird, stupid, barely-there feeling. The one that sat quietly in the back of his mind, like a notification he refused to check. Like a waiting room. A vague, almost imperceptible awareness that he enjoyed your company a little too muchâthat your laugh had started to feel like background music in his life, something he didnât know he needed until it was gone.
Not that it meant anything. Obviously.
He liked lots of people. He was a social guy. He made friends easily, enjoyed being around them, andâdespite Yunjinâs many accusationsâwas not emotionally repressed. He just⊠liked the things you liked. That was normal.
It was normal that he started watching that terrible reality show you always talked about, even though he swore he hated it. It was normal that he got a random impulse to buy you a weirdly specific snack he saw at the store because âit just screamed your vibe.â It was normal that he sent you voice notes every time he saw something even remotely related to Shrek, even months after your presentation.
That was just friendship. Which was why, as a friend, he invited you to an arcade.
It was one of those places that felt like it had been stuck in time since the 90sâneon lights, sticky floors, a vague smell of burnt popcorn in the air. The kind of place that probably hadnât passed a health inspection in years, but had an undeniable charm to it. You were too good at skee-ball.
It was honestly annoying. Heeseung had challenged you three times, and each time, you had obliterated him without breaking a sweat. It wasnât even close. âYouâre cheating,â he accused, arms crossed as he watched you land another perfect shot.
You grinned, tossing the last ball effortlessly. âYouâre just mad because you suck.â
âI donât suck,â he argued. âThis game is justârigged. The physics are all off.â
âOh my god. Did you just say âthe physics are offâ in a skee-ball game?â
âYes,â he said, completely serious. âI am a man of logic and reason.â
You snorted, shaking your head. âSure. Okay. Man of logic and reason. If youâre so smart, letâs see how well you do at Dance Dance Revolution.â
Heeseung froze. âIâuhâwhat?â
âCome on,â you said, already dragging him toward the machine. âLetâs see those skills.â
Here was the thing about Heeseung: he was good at a lot of things. He could play video games for hours without blinking. He could talk his way out of almost any bad situation. He could even recite the entire âAll Starâ lyrics from memory.
But he could not dance. At all. And that became painfully clear the second the game started.
Heeseung missed every step. Every single one. While you moved effortlessly, barely even glancing at the screen, he was flailing. His feet werenât in sync with his brain. His arms kept jerking awkwardly, and he could hear you laughing beside him, and somehow, that made it worse.
By the time the game ended, Heeseung was defeated. He doubled over, hands on his knees, gasping dramatically. âI think I died,â he announced.
You patted his back. âYou fought bravely.â
He looked up at you then, about to retort, but the words got lost somewhere in his throat. Because you were smiling at himâreally smiling. Your eyes were crinkled at the edges, your face still flushed from laughing. The neon lights flickered against your skin, casting everything in shades of blue and pink, making you lookâ
Well. Heeseung swallowed. That weird, stupid, barely-there feeling? Yeah. It was there.
But you were just his friend.
So, when Beomgyu casually mentioned, in the most offhanded, unbothered way possible, that he thought you were cute, Heeseung shouldâve just let it go. But he didnât.
âYou think sheâs what?â
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. âCute. You know, in a hot way.â
Heeseung felt something in his chest twist. It was irrational. Objectively, completely irrational. Because, yeah, you were cute. That wasnât news to him. He had eyes. He was aware. He had just⊠never thought about the fact that other people might also be aware.
Heeseung almost laughed. It was a knee-jerk reaction, the kind of dry, disbelieving scoff that came when someone said something so absurd it didnât even process at first. But then, Beomgyu kept talking.
âI was thinking of asking her out.â
And Heeseung felt it. That twist, low and tight, in the pit of his stomach.
He blinked at Beomgyu, waiting for the usual rush of banter to kick in, for the easy teasing to roll off his tongue. But for some reason, his mouth felt dry. Beomgyu liked you. Beomgyu thought you were cute. Beomgyu wanted to date you.
It wasnât that wild of a concept. People liked you all the time. You were funny and charming in that effortlessly chaotic way, the kind of person who made friends in the span of a single conversation. It made sense that Beomgyu, out of all people, would look at you and go, Yeah, sheâs my type.
And it wasnât like Heeseung had a say in the matter. So he shrugged, leaning back against the couch, and said, âYeah, good for you, man. Good for youâ
And that shouldâve been the end of it. Except. Beomgyu actually did ask you out. And the worst part? You said yes.
At first, Heeseung didnât think much of it. He was fine. It was fine.
So what if you had gone out with Beomgyu last Friday and came back looking kind of flushed, kind of happy? So what if, the next time he saw you, you had that soft, secretive look in your eyes, the one that said you were thinking about something that made your stomach twist in the good way?
So what. You werenât dating. You werenât his. And he sure as hell wasnât jealous. Except then it wasnât just one date. Because you went out again. And again. And again. And suddenly, Beomgyu wasnât just one of Heeseungâs friends anymoreâhe was the guy you were seeing. And that, for some reason, was so much worse.
The thing about Beomgyu was that he was annoying. Like, Heeseung had always known this, but now, for the first time in his life, it felt personal. âDude,â Beomgyu groaned, stretching his arms behind his head as they sat in their usual spot in the campus lounge. âY/N is so fun, bro. Like, actually so fun.â
Heeseung clenched his jaw. âYeah?â
âYeah. Sheâs, like⊠different.â Heeseung made a face. âNo, Iâm serious,â Beomgyu whined. âSheâs not like other girls.â
Iâm gonna walk into traffic, Heeseung thought.
âNo, likeââ Beomgyu hesitated, looking off into the distance. âSheâs just cool, you know?â
And Heeseung didnât know why that pissed him off. Maybe because he knew that already. He had always known that. He had known it before Beomgyu, before any of these dates, before whatever the hell this was.
He had known it since the night he met you. Since the moment you called him Donatello when he was, in fact, Leonardo. Since the first time you said his name with that teasing edge, like you were permanently in on some joke he didnât even realize he was making.
So, yeah. Maybe he didnât like hearing Beomgyu say it like he had discovered it first.
But whatever. Heeseung let it go. Because it wasnât like this was going to last forever. And then, it didnât.
One day, you walked into Yunjinâs apartment, kicked your shoes off in a way that sent one flying across the room, and threw yourself onto the couch with all the weight of someone carrying a great and terrible burden.
Heeseung, sitting on the floor, scrolled mindlessly through his phone, pretending he hadnât immediately noticed you. But then, you sighed. A deep, world-weary, existentially exhausted sigh.
Yunjin looked up from where she was painting her nails. âJesus,â she muttered. âWhat.â
You groaned, stuffing your face into a pillow. âI think Iâm over it.â
Heeseungâs thumb froze mid-scroll. Casual. He had to be casual. So, without looking up, he mumbled, âOver what?â
Another dramatic sigh. You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to life itself. âBeomgyu.â
Heeseung blinked. Okay.
Yunjin, who had been the biggest advocate of this whole thing, frowned. âWait, what do you mean? You were literally texting him heart emojis yesterday.â
âI donât know.â You stretched out your legs like the weight of your own existence was exhausting you. âI just⊠donât feel like it anymore.â
Yunjin gave you a look. âLike, what? Heâs a hobby you got bored of?â
âNo! Itâs justââ You hesitated, pressing your lips together. âLike, I liked the idea of him. And at first, it was fun. But then, the more time we spent together, the more I realized⊠I donât know.â
âYou donât know?â
You exhaled, shutting your eyes. âI feel like I was trying to make myself like him the way I was supposed to. But it just wasnât working.â
And that was when Heeseungâs grip on his phone tightened. He forced himself to keep his face neutral, tilting his head slightly as he looked at you. âThe way you were supposed to?â
You turned your head towards him. âYeah. Like, Beomgyu is great, okay? Heâs funny, and heâs cute, and heâs nice, and I should like him.â You paused, expression softening. âBut every time he kissed me, I justâŠâ
You trailed off, lost in thought. Heeseung swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He wasnât sure why.
Yunjin made a gagging noise. âOkay, ew. Please donât get all sentimental about kissing Beomgyu on my couch.â
You laughed, pushing her half-heartedly with your foot. âIâm just sayingâitâs not clicking. You ever get that? Like, you try to like someone, but no matter how much you do, it just doesnât fit?â
And the way you looked at Heeseung when you asked thatâlike you expected him to understandâmade something in his chest tighten. Because yeah. He knew exactly what that felt like. He just⊠couldnât say it.
So he swallowed, rolling his shoulders back, and forced a small smirk. âDamn,â he said, voice light. âTough loss for Beomgyu.â
You let out a soft huff of laughter. âYeah.â Then, a pause. âGuess Iâm single again.â
Something in Heeseungâs chest lurched. But he just nodded, keeping his expression neutral, easy, unfazed. Like it didnât mean anything. Like it didnât change everything.
A few weeks later, Heeseung showed up at your apartment. It was raining that day.
Not in a dramatic, cinematic way, but in that soft, half-hearted drizzle that made everything look just a little bit duller. The sky was gray, the streets were damp, and Heeseung had definitely stepped into at least two puddles on his way up to your place.
Which, in his opinion, was already way too much effort just to fix your stupid kitchen cabinet.
âOkay, I just wanna say,â he announced as soon as you let him in, dragging his slightly-wet socks across your floor, âI donât know how the hell you managed to completely detach a cabinet door, but honestly? Iâm kind of impressed.â
You rolled your eyes, stepping aside to let him in. âAre you gonna help me or are you gonna make fun of me?â
âOh, Iâm definitely gonna make fun of you.â He grinned, toeing off his shoes before making his way to your kitchen. âBut Iâll fix it after.â
You followed behind him, crossing your arms as you watched him inspect the broken cabinet. It wasnât like you had meant to break it. You had simply been existing in your own kitchen, minding your own business, when the handle somehow got caught on the sleeve of your hoodieâone tug too strong, and suddenly the door was in your hands instead of on its hinges.
âI literally donât understand how this happened,â Heeseung muttered, crouching down to assess the damage.
âOkay, handyman,â you shot back. âCan you fix it or not?â
Heeseung snorted, shaking his head. âYeah, yeah, let me justââ He held out a hand. âPass me my phone.â
You blinked. âHuh?â
âMy hands are kinda full,â he said, nodding towards the cabinet door that he was currently balancing on one knee. âLook up how to fix this real quick.â
You huffed but grabbed his phone from the counter, unlocking it without thinking as you leaned against the kitchen island. You didnât love the idea of looking up a YouTube tutorial like some kind of DIY newbie, but considering that Heeseung was already physically here fixing your problem for you, you figured you could at least meet him halfway.
So, with one hand holding his phone, you typed "how to reattach cabinet door" into the search barâ
And then, your thumb froze. Because right there, at the top of the screen, was a notification. A message. From Chaewon. Your stomach twisted.
It wasnât like you didnât know who Chaewon was. Of course, you did. You werenât stupid. Chaewon was his ex.
The one he never really talked about. The one who had, at one point, been a name youâd only heard in passing, just a piece of his past that you had no real reason to care about. Except⊠you did.
Because now, here she was. On his screen. Texting him. And suddenly, you felt fucking ridiculous. Because why were you even reacting like this? It wasnât like he was your boyfriend. It wasnât like he owed you an explanation. So, then⊠why did it feel like this?
You forced yourself to look away from the message, pressing the YouTube link on the screen as if nothing had happened. But something had. Because when Heeseung glanced at you, waiting for your next words, you just⊠couldnât bring yourself to meet his eyes.
âUh.â You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your voice didnât sound normal. âIt says you need a screwdriver.â
Heeseung raised an eyebrow at your abrupt shift in tone, but he didnât question it. âOkay,â he said slowly, getting up to grab one from his bag.
You took the moment to shove his phone back onto the counter, clenching your jaw as you crossed your arms tighter over your chest. It was fine. You were fine.
âHey.â His voice cut through the air, slightly muffled as he rummaged through his bag. âCan you hold this while Iââ
âNo, itâs fine.â The words came out too fast, too stiff.
And Heeseung noticed. He glanced at you, pausing with the screwdriver halfway in his grip. âYou good?â
You forced out a laugh. âYeah. Why?â
He narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head. âYou just got all weird all of a sudden.â
âI didnât.â
âYou definitely did.â
You exhaled sharply, schooling your expression into something that wasnât betrayal or insecurity or whatever dumb thing was currently buzzing inside your head. âIâm just tired.â
It wasnât a total lie. Heeseung didnât look fully convinced, but he didnât push. He just hummed under his breath, turning back to the cabinet as he started working again.
And maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was irrational. But you couldnât stop thinking about it. The notification. The name. The way your stomach had twisted on instinct before you even had a chance to tell yourself it didnât matter.
Because maybe⊠Maybe it did.
The next time youâre at Yunjinâs apartment, Heeseung isnât there.
Itâs not intentional, not entirely. Maybe thereâs a small, petty part of you thatâs relieved when Yunjin mentions heâs out, like the universe decided to grant you a break from the exhausting push and pull of whatever this thing is between you. But mostly, youâre just here because you always are.
Thereâs an old episode of some dating reality show playing in the background, and Yunjin barely glances at it as she paints her toenails a shade of red so deep itâs almost brown. You pick at the hem of your sleeve, casual, too casual, before finally asking, âDoes Heeseung still see Chaewon?â
Yunjin snorts, like itâs the dumbest thing sheâs heard all day. âGod, I hope not.â
Something in your stomach untwists just slightly, but you donât let the relief settle. You just raise an eyebrow, feigning indifference. âWhat happened with them, anyway?â
Yunjin pauses, her brush hovering mid-air. She gives you a look. The kind that says she sees through you. The kind that makes your skin prickle with the discomfort of being known. But then she sighs, leans back against the couch, and says, âThey burned out.â
You blink. âThatâs it?â
Yunjin tilts her head. âYou ever leave a candle burning too long?â She dips the brush back into the bottle, shaking her head. âThey were good until they werenât. And when they werenât, it was obvious. Chaewon got tired of waiting for him to catch up.â
You frown. âCatch up?â
Yunjin shrugs. âShe loved him first. And she wanted him to love her back just as fast, just as much. But HeeseungâŠâ She sighs, blowing lightly on her nails. âHeeseung takes his time. He doesnât fall in love all at once, he kind of⊠eases into it. Like the dumbass that he is.â
Your chest tightens.
Because you think about the way he looks at you when he thinks youâre not watching. About the way he always notices when youâre cold before you even say anything. And then you think about the way he doesnât say anything. About the way heâs always on the edge of something, always almost.
Yunjin is watching you. You can feel it. And you know, you just know, sheâs about to say something thatâs going to ruin you.
So you get up, stretch your arms above your head like you can shake the weight of this conversation off your skin. âRight. Well. That was fun. Thanks for the gossip.â
Yunjin smirks. âYouâre so fucking obvious.â You ignore her, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. But before you can shove it in your mouth, she says, âHeeseungâs not stupid, you know. He just doesnât like to move until heâs sure.â
You pause. And because youâre you, and because this is Heeseung, and because everything about this whole thing is a goddamn waiting gameâ You pretend you donât hear her.
And then itâs 2:14 a.m. when your phone buzzes.
Youâre half-asleep, curled up in bed, the glow of your screen slicing through the darkness. You squint at it, groggy, before reading the message.
heeseung: you awake? heeseung: also. do u want mcdonalds
You blink. Then again. You type out a response with fingers that still feel half-dead from sleep.
you: is that even a question heeseung: valid. be outside in 10
And just like that, youâre stepping into your slides, and slipping out the door like this is the most normal thing in the world. Because with Heeseung, it kind of is.
The streetlights cast long, tired shadows across the pavement, and the air is that weird mix of crisp and stale that only exists at this hour, like the city itself is pausing, caught between the last breath of night and the first inhale of morning.
Heeseungâs car rolls up exactly nine minutes later, music already playing low through the speakers. When you slide into the passenger seat, he barely even looks at you before reaching into the back and tossing you his hoodie.
âYouâre gonna get cold,â he says simply.
You huff, but you put it on. It smells like himâfaint detergent, something vaguely woody, and the unmistakable scent of McDonaldâs fries from however many late-night runs have preceded this one.
Heeseung pulls out onto the street, the familiar hum of the engine settling between you. Heâs got one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel, and thereâs a soft shadow of exhaustion under his eyes, but he still looks⊠at ease.
Itâs quiet for a while. Comfortable. The kind of silence that doesnât feel like it needs filling.
Then, as he turns onto the main road, he says, âYou ever think about how weird time is?â
You glance at him. âThatâs an insane way to start a conversation.â
âIâm serious,â he laughs, tapping his fingers against the wheel. âLike, right now. Itâs 2:30 a.m. for us, but somewhere else, itâs a normal afternoon. Someoneâs getting lunch, someoneâs going to work. And here we are, about to eat McNuggets in a parking lot.â
You hum. âI feel like this is your way of convincing me that time isnât real.â
He nods solemnly. âNothing is real.â
âExcept McNuggets.â
âExactly.â
A beat passes, the soft rumble of the tires against the road the only sound for a moment. Then, quieter, more thoughtful, Heeseung asks, âWhere do you think youâll be in a year?â
The question catches you off guard. You tilt your head, thinking. âI donât know,â you admit. âI mean, I have plans, but⊠life never really goes how you expect it to, does it?â
Heeseung exhales a small laugh. âNo. It really doesnât.â
You hesitate before adding, âWhere do you think youâll be?â
He takes a moment. His grip on the steering wheel tightens just slightly, like heâs holding onto the words before letting them go. âI donât know either.â He pauses, then glances at you with something unreadable in his eyes. âI just hope Iâm somewhere that still feels like home.â
You feel something shift. A small, almost imperceptible weight settling between the two of you.
And maybe itâs the hour. Maybe itâs the fact that your brain isnât fully awake yet. Or maybe itâs just himâthis version of Heeseung that only exists at 2:30 a.m., the one who speaks in half-truths and unspoken things. But you suddenly feel like you understand exactly what he means.
The McDonaldâs drive-thru is basically empty when you pull in. The girl at the window looks like she hates her job, and Heeseung, being Heeseung, makes it his personal mission to get her to smile.
âAre McFlurries still a scam?â he asks solemnly.
The girl raises an unimpressed eyebrow. âYou mean, is the machine broken?â
âYeah.â
âObviously.â
Heeseung sighs. âI knew it. A tragedy, really.â
Her lips twitchâjust barelyâbut he sees it. He shoots you a triumphant look as he pulls forward.
With the food secured, he parks in a near-empty lot. Thereâs something about eating fast food in a car past midnight that makes it taste ten times betterâsomething about the way the city is so still, like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you and the glow of the dashboard lights.
For a while, you just eat in silence, the occasional rustle of a fry bag or the quiet click of a sauce container the only noise. Then Heeseung says, âIf you could live in any movie, which one would it be?â
You think for a moment. âProbably something stupid and fun. Like⊠a rom-com where everything works out in the end.â
Heeseung snorts. âYeah? You want to be the main character that badly?â
âObviously.â
He grins, dipping a fry into his BBQ sauce. âYouâd be the chaotic best friend, though.â
You throw a fry at him. He catches it in his mouth.
âWhat about you?â you ask, popping a nugget into your mouth.
Heeseung leans back against the seat, thinking. âI donât know. Something small. Quiet. One of those movies where nothing really happens, but it still makes you feel something.â
You tilt your head. âLike a waiting room.â
Heeseung turns to you. âWhat?â
âA waiting room,â you say, like itâs obvious. âThatâs what those movies feel like. Like something is about to happen, but you donât know what, and maybe itâs okay if nothing does.â
He stares at you for a long moment. Then he smiles. And itâs not his usual grin, not the teasing, lopsided smirk. Itâs something smaller, softer. âYeah,â he murmurs. âLike a waiting room.â
Neither of you say anything after that. The city hums in the background, neon lights bleeding into the darkness, the last remnants of fries sitting forgotten between you.
And then, a party. Not the kind you remember from three years ago, not the one where you met a boy covered in green body paint who changed your life without even meaning to. But still, a party. The music is just as loud, the air just as thick with heat and laughter, the night just as full of things waiting to happen.
Youâre not sure why you came. Yunjin had begged, of course, had stood in your doorway with her most dramatic expression, wailing about how you never do anything fun anymore. But even then, you could have said no. You could have curled up in your apartment, wrapped yourself in something soft and safe, ignored the way your stomach flipped when you thought, what if Heeseung is there?
But you didnât.
And now, youâre here, standing in the middle of someoneâs too-small living room, holding a lukewarm drink, feeling like a puzzle piece that doesnât quite fit. And then, you hear your name.
It cuts through the music, through the laughter, through the static in your brain. It pulls you toward the kitchen, toward the familiar lilt of a voice you know better than your own. And there he is. Heeseung.
Standing in front of the fridge, cracking open a beer, wearing a faded t-shirt and jeans that hang just right. His hair is a little messy, his eyes a little bright, and when he sees you, he grinsâthat same lopsided, teasing, dangerous smile.
"Look who finally decided to show up," he says, raising his drink in a mock toast.
You roll your eyes, taking a sip of whateverâs in your cup. "Donât make a big deal out of it."
Heeseung hums, leaning against the counter. "Wouldnât dream of it."
But heâs looking at you like it is a big deal. Like maybe heâs been waiting for you all night. Like maybe he always is.
Hours pass, the party moves around youâpeople spilling in and out of rooms, music shifting from one song to the nextâbut you and Heeseung stay where you are, orbiting around each other.
At some point, someone suggests a game. Cards, or maybe something more ridiculousâsomething designed to make people confess things they wouldnât say otherwise. You should say no. You should step away before you find yourself caught in something you canât get out of.
But you donât. You sit next to Heeseung on the floor, close enough that your knees touch. The game starts, questions fly, people laugh. And thenâ
Jake turns to you. "Alright, Y/N. Who was your first college crush?"
You blink. "What?"
The group whoops in unison. Jungwon throws an arm around your shoulder. "Come on, donât be shy."
Your throat goes dry. Your eyes flicker to Heeseung, just for a second, but itâs enough. His smirk twitchesâjust barely, just enough to be noticeableâand suddenly, you know you have to get out of this.
You clear your throat, reaching for your drink. "I think Iâve blocked it out," you lie.
A chorus of boos erupts, but the game moves on. The moment passes. But beside you, Heeseung is watching you, his fingers tapping against his knee, like heâs putting something together. You pretend not to notice.
Later, when the party has blurred into something soft and distant, when most people are drunk or half-asleep, when the night has stretched itself out into something too fragile to hold forever, Heeseung finds you on the balcony.
Youâre leaning against the railing, breathing in the cool air, staring out at the city lights. "You hiding from me?"
You donât turn around. "You think everythingâs about you, donât you?"
He laughsâsoft, amused, something warm threading through the sound. "It usually is."
You roll your eyes, but then heâs beside you, resting his forearms on the railing, close enough that you can feel the heat of him even through the night air.
For a moment, neither of you speak. The music inside is muffled now, the party nothing more than background noise. The city stretches out before you, endless and alive, full of people who have no idea that this moment is happening.
And then, quietly, Heeseung asks, "You really donât remember your first college crush?"
Your fingers tighten slightly around the railing. You exhale. "I remember."
A pause. "Yeah?"
You glance at him. Heâs watching you, expression unreadable, something deep and knowing in his eyes. You swallow. "Yeah."
Heeseung tilts his head slightly, and for a second, you thinkâIs he going to ask? Does he already know? But he doesnât.
He just nods, looking back at the skyline, and says, "Me too."
And somehow, thatâs worse. Because you thinkâno, you knowâthat heâs not talking about some early college memory, some long-forgotten infatuation.
Heâs talking about you.
And for the first time, you wonder if this thing between youâthis waiting, this almost, this three years of something unspokenâhas been more obvious than you thought. You wonder if maybe, just maybe, youâre not the only one waiting.
One month later. The thing about time is that it moves whether youâre ready or not. It stretches, it folds, it carries you forward even when you feel like youâre standing still.
And ever since the party, things with Heeseung have been⊠different. Not in an obvious way. Not in the way that people would notice, not in the way that Yunjin would tease you about over breakfast. But in the small things.
In the way his eyes linger just a little too long. In the way your stomach flips when he says your name. In the way every conversation feels like itâs balancing on the edge of something you canât name.
Because you and Heeseung have always been close, always been drawn together like something written into the universe itself. But now? Now, it feels different. Like someone turned up the volume on something you didnât even realize was playing in the background.
And the worst part? Neither of you are talking about it.
Instead, youâre doing what you do bestâpretending. Pretending that nothing is different, that things are still light and easy, that three years of something unspoken arenât finally starting to spill over the edges.
Until one day, when youâre sitting on Yunjinâs couch, your phone rings. Itâs your mother. You hesitate before answering, already bracing yourself for whatever sheâs about to say.
And the moment you put your phone down, you groan, collapsing onto the couch, like the weight of the conversation is physically pressing down on you. Heeseung and Yunjin are both looking at you expectantly, their attention fully on you in a way that makes you regret opening your mouth at all. But itâs too late now, so you just exhale, pressing your fingers against your temples before muttering, "My mom called."
Yunjin snorts. "Yeah, we got that much. What did she want?"
You roll your eyes, but the annoyance in your chest is directed at yourself more than anything else. "Thereâs a wedding. My cousinâs. Next weekend."
Heeseung, who had been absentmindedly rolling a bottle cap between his fingers, finally glances up, eyes curious. "You going?"
"Yeah." You sigh again. "Didnât really have a choice. If I said no, she wouldâve found a way to guilt-trip me into oblivion."
Yunjin grins knowingly. "Classic mom move."
You hum in agreement, then hesitate, picking at the hem of your sleeve. "And then she made it weird," you mutter.
Heeseung raises an eyebrow, shifting slightly on the couch so heâs facing you more fully. "How weird?"
You pause for a second, then groan, throwing your head back. "She brought up the fact that Iâve never brought a boyfriend to anything."
Yunjin cackles. She actually leans forward, hands on her knees, cackling. "Oh my God," she wheezes. "Thatâs so embarrassing for you."
You glare. "Thank you, Yunjin, for your endless support."
But Heeseung doesnât laugh. He doesnât tease. He just tilts his head, watching you with an unreadable expression. "She said that?"
You nod, rubbing your temples. "Yeah. She was all, âYou can bring someone, you know,â and then just immediately went for the âYouâve never brought a boyfriend to anything,â like I donât already know that."
Yunjin wipes a fake tear from her eye, still far too entertained. "Damn. She really called you out like that."
"Okay," you deadpan, "I think weâve established that this is humiliating for me. Can we move on?"
But Yunjin grins, her eyes practically glowing with mischief, and thatâs when you know you should have never said anything at all. "Well," she says, stretching out the word, "if it bothers you that much⊠you could always bring Heeseung."
Silence.
You feel it immediatelyâthe way the air shifts, the way your stomach twists, the way your breath catches for just a second too long. You donât look at Heeseung. You canât.
Instead, you scoff, shoving her shoulder. "Oh my God, shut up."
"Iâm serious!" she laughs. "It makes sense, doesnât it? You need a date. Heeseungâs around."
Heeseung is silent. And thatâthatâs what makes your chest tighten. Because Heeseung is never silent.
You finally force yourself to glance at him, just a flicker, just to see how heâs reacting to this. And when you do, you find him already looking at youâhis expression unreadable, his fingers stilling where they had been absently playing with the bottle cap.
Something tightens in your throat. Because itâs one thing to laugh it off. Itâs one thing to pretend this isnât something charged, something delicate, something that feels like standing on the edge of something too big to name.
But Heeseung isnât laughing.
When you open the door on the wedding day, Heeseung is already leaning against his car, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks, looking entirely too good for someone who is supposed to be doing you a favor. His hair is neat but still has that slight, careless tousle to it, his sleeves are pushed up just enough to reveal his forearms, and his black dress shirt is criminally well-fitted.
You try very hard not to notice any of that. But Heeseung is looking at you like you just stopped time.
Itâs not obviousâhe doesnât say anything right away, doesnât let his jaw drop like some kind of movie clichĂ©âbut his fingers twitch slightly where theyâre resting in his pockets, and his throat bobs as he swallows. His eyes move over you in a way that isnât just admiration but something deeper, something heavier, something that makes your chest feel too tight.
You pretend not to notice that, either. Instead, you lift an eyebrow, shifting your weight onto one foot. "You gonna open the door for me, or are you just gonna stand there?"
Heeseung blinks, snapping out of it. He clears his throat, pushing off the car, his usual smirk creeping back into place. "Right, yeah. My bad."
You roll your eyes, but your face feels warm anyway. The ride starts out easy. The hum of the road fills the space between you, the occasional comment about the directions or a song playing on the radio breaking the silence.
"You, uh," Heeseung starts, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "You sure your momâs gonna be cool with me coming?"
You blink. "What? Yeah, of course. I already told her."
He raises an eyebrow. "You told her?"
"Yeah," you say, adjusting the hem of your dress. "I mean, I talk about you all the time, so itâs not like itâs weird or anything."
Silence. You donât notice it at first, but when you glance over, Heeseung is staring straight ahead, gripping the wheel a little tighter than before.
And the thing isâHeeseung is not someone who gets flustered easily. He doesnât trip over his words, doesnât get all weird when people talk about him. But now, heâs sitting there, completely silent, like his brain just blue-screened.
Because you talk about him all the time. To your mom. His ears burn at the thought.
Because itâs one thing to be close. Itâs one thing to be your best friend, to be the person you go to for late-night McDonaldâs runs and life-altering conversations on balconies. But itâs another thing entirely to know that he exists in your life even when heâs not there.
That when youâre on the phone with your mom, when youâre recounting your day, when youâre talking about the people who matterâheâs there. And itâs so stupid how much that does to him.
He coughs, forcing himself to sound normal. "Oh. Cool. Yeah. Thatâs cool."
You snort. "I told her youâre my friend, and thatâs it."
Heeseung hums, tapping his fingers on the wheel again. "Yeah. Right."
But for some reason, the word friend doesnât sit right in his mouth.
The wedding is beautiful. Not in the over-the-top, fairytale kind of way, but in the way that feels real. The ceremony is held outdoors, the late afternoon light draping everything in gold, the air carrying the soft hum of laughter and clinking glasses. There are flowers on every table, music drifting lazily through the air, and a warmth that lingers beneath the chatter of distant relatives catching up.
And you almost forget that youâre here with Heeseung. Almost. Exceptâyou can feel him.
You can feel him next to you at the table, the warmth of his presence settling into your skin. You can feel the way his hand brushes against yours when he reaches for something, the way his eyes flicker toward you when he hears you laugh.
And the worst part is that he looks good as hell.
Itâs almost unfair, the way he carries himself. The way his sleeves are still rolled up, the way his shirt is slightly undone at the collar, the way he leans back in his chair, legs stretched out, watching everything unfold like he belongs here.
And for the first time in a long time you donât know where you stand with him.
Because this is Heeseung. The boy who sends you Shrek memes at 2 a.m. The boy who once argued with a barista about oat milk for a full five minutes. The boy who makes you laugh until you canât breathe.
But right now? Right now, heâs something else, too. Something that makes your stomach flip. Something that makes you forget how to breathe.
The music shifts. Itâs not immediateânot some grand, dramatic moment where the world slows downâbut you feel it.
The moment the first notes of the song drift through the air, you feel it in your chest. Like something tightening. Like something pulling at a thread you donât want to unravel. Because you know this song. Of course you know this song. And so does he.
You donât even have to look at Heeseung to know he recognizes it too. That he knows exactly whatâs playing, that he knows how much you love her, that he knows youâve played this song beforeâin his car, in your apartment, in the quiet spaces between friendship and something else.
You know he knows. And yet, he still turns to you, his voice a low murmur beneath the hum of conversation. âPhoebe Bridgers,â he says.
You swallow. âYeah.â Heeseung hums, watching you carefully. His fingers drum lightly against the table, slow and steady, in time with the beat of the song. Then, after a secondâ
"You should dance with me."
You blink. You blink again. Your stomach twists. âWhat?â
Heeseung shrugs, like itâs nothing. Like it doesnât mean anything. âYou love this song.â
Whichâokay. Thatâs true. But this is not a song you dance to. This is a song you listen to alone, in your room, in the quiet, when itâs too late and youâre too restless and youâre thinking about things you shouldnât be thinking about.
This is not a wedding song. And yet, Heeseung is still looking at you like that, like this is a dare, like heâs waiting for you to say no, to call him out, to pull away before itâs too late.
And yet, his hand is outstretched, waiting, patient, warm. And yetâ You take it. You donât think, you just do it, just let yourself be pulled. And Heeseung holds you like heâs afraid to press too hard.
One hand on your waist. The other clasping yours loosely, like heâs letting you decide how close to be. Like heâs still waiting for you to laugh and push him away and say, âThis is so stupidâ.
But you donât. You just breathe. You just exist here, in this moment, with him.
If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor I would sit there with my first-aid kit and bleed
Your throat tightens. Because God, this song.
Because you know every lyric by heart, because you know what it means, because thereâs something about it that always makes you feel like youâre standing in the middle of something youâll never quite have.
And now, here you are, dancing to it with him.
Heeseung exhales softly, tilting his head toward you. âYou ever think about that?â
You blink. âThink about what?â
His fingers twitch slightly against your waist. âHow music reminds you of people.â
Your stomach flips. Because of course you do. Of course, you think about it. Of course, this song, this moment, this whole damn night is going to be tied to him now, forever, no matter what happens after.
You nod. âYeah,â you say quietly. âI think about it.â
Heeseung hums, like that makes sense. Like he already knew what you were going to say. Thenâ
"Does this song remind you of me?"
Your breath catches. The air between you thickens.
Because that shouldnât be a question. Because he already knows the answer. Because youâre standing here with him, swaying to a song that makes your chest ache, and you know, you know he hears the lyrics just as clearly as you do.
I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery.
You clear your throat, forcing yourself to sound normal. âMaybe.â
His lips twitch. âMaybe?â
You narrow your eyes. âDonât push it.â
Heeseung laughs, soft, breathless. And God, you hate him.
You hate the way he makes everything feel like a game, like heâs always hovering right at the edge of something and waiting for you to push him over. You hate that itâs working.
And when broken bodies are washed ashoreâwho am I to ask for more?
You shiver. Because this is the part of the song that gets to you every time. Because who are you to ask for more?
Who are you to ask for something that maybe, just maybe, was never meant to be yours? But then Heeseung, of all people, says âI think this song reminds me of you, too.â
Your heart stops. You look at him, and heâs already looking at you, and suddenly this doesnât feel like pretending anymore.
This doesnât feel like something you can laugh off. Because Heeseung is serious.
Because his hand is still on your waist, his fingers still brushing against the fabric of your dress, his breath still warm against your cheek, and you donât know how to go back from this. You donât know if you want to.
Heeseung shifts slightly, his grip tightening for just a second. âYou ever think about it?â
You blink. âThink about what?â
Heeseung hesitates, his eyes flickering over your face. His jaw tightensâjust barely.
"Us."
Your stomach drops.
Because he says it so simply, like itâs nothing, like itâs a passing thought, like he hasnât just destroyed your entire world in one syllable. Us. The word sits heavy in the air between you, impossible to ignore, impossible to pretend you didnât hear.
Heeseung doesnât move, doesnât look away, doesnât do anything to make this easier for you. He just keeps holding you, keeps swaying with you, keeps waitingâlike he has all the time in the world.
You want to say something.
You want to throw your head back and laugh it off, tell him heâs being ridiculous, tell him to stop playing with you. You want to scoff and roll your eyes and pretend that the thought of you and Heeseung has never crossed your mind, that it hasnât been haunting you for years, that it hasnât been living under your skin since the first time he looked at you like you were something worth remembering.
But you canât. Because this is Heeseung. Because he knows you too well, because heâd hear the lie in your voice, because there is nowhere left to hide when heâs looking at you like this.
So instead, you stall. You breathe in, slow and careful, and say, "What about us?"
Itâs a cheap move. A pathetic attempt at deflection. And Heeseung knows it.
He exhales, the ghost of a laugh slipping past his lips, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on your waist. "You know what I mean."
You glance down at your hands, the way your fingers are still laced together with his, the way your other hand rests so easily on his shoulder, like this is something youâve done a thousand times before. And maybe you have.
Maybe you and Heeseung have always been dancing around each other like this. Maybe youâve just never let yourself notice. The song keeps playing, keeps taunting you, keeps threading its meaning between your ribs, pulling you closer and closer to something you donât know how to name.
I wanna make you drive all night just because I said, maybe you should come over
You let out a slow breath, forcing your voice to stay steady. "Weâre friends, Heeseung."
He hums. "Yeah. We are."
But he doesnât let go.
He doesnât move away, doesnât drop his hand from your waist, doesnât step back into the safe distance youâre used to. He stays. And thatâs the part that gets you.
Because if he really believed that was all this was, he wouldnât be holding you like this. If he really believed that was all this was, he wouldnât have asked the question in the first place.
You glance up at him again, searching, waiting for him to say something else, to give you an out, to change the subject, to laugh and let it go. But he doesnât. He just watches you. And suddenly, you feel exposed in a way you never have before.
Like every late-night conversation, every half-smile, every almost has been leading here, to this moment, to this song, to this feeling that you donât know how to escape. You force yourself to swallow.
"Why are you asking me this?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung tilts his head slightly, considering you, considering his words.
"Because I think about it, too."
Your breath catches in your throat. Your fingers tighten against his shoulder. Your heart slams against your ribs.
You feel like the whole world has shrunk down to just this. To the space between your bodies, to the way heâs looking at you, to the fact that he thinks about it, too.
Heeseungâs fingers twitch slightly against yours, but he doesnât let go. Heâs watching you with this careful intensity, like heâs waiting for something, like heâs giving you the chance to decide what happens next.
And thatâs the problem.
Because you donât know what happens next.
Because youâve spent years existing in this strange, untouchable place with him, in this in-between, in this waiting room of a relationship that never moves forward but never lets you leave either.
And now, suddenly, here you are. Standing on the edge of something irreversible.
She'll be the best you ever had if you let her
Your heart stumbles. Because this song knows too much.
Because this song feels too much like the two of you, like something ripped from your ribs and put into lyrics, like a truth you werenât ready to confront. And maybeâjust maybeâHeeseung feels it, too.
Because he leans in. Just a little. Just enough.
Not enough to cross the line, not enough to destroy the thing youâve built, but enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath, enough that the scent of himâclean soap, something faintly woodsy, something entirely himâwraps around you.
Enough that you could close the distance if you wanted to. And God, you do.
But you donât. Because youâre afraid. Because you donât know what happens when you let this become real.
Because Heeseung is still looking at you like that, like he could ruin you if he wanted to, like heâs giving you the chance to ruin him first.
I know it's for the better
You exhale, too shaky, too uneven. And Heeseung notices.
His gaze flickers, barely, to your lips, to the space between you, to the way you havenât moved away from him yet. And then his jaw clenches.
Like heâs just realized how close you are. Like heâs just realized this is about to happen if neither of you stop it. And thatâs the thing, neither of you stop it.
Not immediately. Not when his fingers tighten slightly on your waist. Not when your grip on his shoulder trembles just a little. Not when the air between you stretches so thin it might snap in half.
Not until you hear, Know itâs for the betterâŠ
The song starts to fade. The moment fractures. And just like that, you both pull away.
Not much. Just an inch, a breath, a single second too late. But itâs enough.
Enough for reality to settle back in. Enough for the noise of the wedding to come rushing back, for the chatter and laughter and clinking glasses to remind you where you are, who you are, what you almost did.
And Heeseung, he knows it, too. You see it in the way his throat bobs, in the way he blinks hard, in the way he forces himself to take a step back, to drop his hand from your waist, to roll his shoulders like he can shake off whatever just happened between you.
The song ends. And neither of you say a word.
And three months later, silence.
At first, itâs subtleâjust a missed text here, a conversation that doesnât last as long as it used to, an inside joke that no longer lands the way it should. But then it becomes something else. Something colder. Something that feels less like a pause and more like a choice.
And thatâs what happened to you and Heeseung.
You didnât stop talking completely. That would have been too obvious, too final, too much like admitting that something had shifted beyond repair. You still sent the occasional meme, still ran into each other at Yunjinâs, still had conversations that skimmed the surface of what they used to be.
But it was different. The late-night McDonaldâs runs stopped. The effortless teasing felt strained. The ease of being around each otherâthe one thing you never questionedâwas suddenly gone.
Neither of you did anything about it. You let it happen. Because it was easier that way.
Because acknowledging it meant admitting that something had changed, that you had gotten too close, that something had almost happened that night at the wedding. And you werenât ready to admit that.
You werenât ready to ask if Heeseung had almost kissed you, or if you had almost kissed him, or if you had both just been caught in some stupid, fleeting moment that meant nothing at all. So, you didnât.
And now, three months later, all thatâs left is silence.
The rain comes down in sheets, heavy and relentless, drumming against the windows of your apartment. You sit curled up on your couch, blanket wrapped around you, phone abandoned on the coffee table. The storm had rolled in an hour ago, sudden and unforgiving, and now the whole city feels swallowed by it, the streetlights barely visible through the downpour.
Then, thereâs a knock at your door. You werenât expecting anyone. Itâs too late, too stormy, too much of a nothing kind of night for visitors.
But something in you knowsâbefore you even open the door, before you even take that first breathâthat itâs him.
And it is. Itâs Heeseung.
Standing in your doorway, soaking wet, hair plastered to his forehead, breathing unevenly like he just ran here.
You freeze. "Heeseung?"
His eyes flicker over your face, searching, desperate, wild in a way youâve never seen before. His clothes are damp, sticking to his frame, his hands clenched at his sides. But itâs his expression that gets you.
Like something is breaking inside of him. Like something has already broken.
âI canâtââ His voice catches, hoarse and raw, and then he shakes his head, like words are failing him, like theyâre too small for what heâs trying to say.
Your heart is pounding. âHeeseung, what are youââ
"I canât stop thinking about you."
The words crash into you like a wave, knocking the breath from your lungs. You stare.
Heeseung swallows hard, shaking his head like heâs trying to clear it, like heâs trying to find a way to make you understand.
"Iâve tried," he continues, voice shaking. "I really, really tried. But youâre always there. Youâre in every song I hear, in every dumb inside joke, in every single thing that happens to me. I see something stupid and my first thought is always, âY/N would think thatâs hilarious.â I go to text you and then I stop because I donât know if Iâm supposed to anymore. Iâ"
He lets out a sharp, frustrated laugh, dragging a hand through his wet hair. âI thought if I just gave it time, it would go away. I thought I could justâmove past it. But I still feel like Iâm standing in that damn Halloween party with you, waiting for something to happen.â
Your throat is tight. âHeeseungââ
âI miss you,â he interrupts, pushing forward, stepping into your space like heâs afraid youâll shut the door on him if he doesnât. "I miss you so much itâs making me lose my goddamn mind."
Your pulse is roaring in your ears. You should say something. You should do something. But you canât. You just stand there, staring at him, your body frozen in place. And Heeseung just keeps talking.
"I donât know how to be your friend anymore," he admits, wrecked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I donât know how to sit next to you and act like I donât want more. I donât know how to look at you and pretend that youâre not the first person I think about when I wake up and the last person I think about before I fall asleep. I donât know how to listen to that fucking song without remembering the way you looked at me that night."
The air is too thick. Your vision is blurring.
Heeseung breathes out a shaky, desperate laugh, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "And the worst part?" He meets your eyes, and it destroys you. "I donât think I want to stop thinking about you."
And thatâs it.
Thatâs what breaks you. Thatâs what makes you move.
You donât think. You donât hesitate.
You step forward, grab the front of his stupid wet shirt, and kiss him.
The storm rages outside. And for the first time in three years, neither of you pull away.
The moment your lips crash into his, Heeseung stumbles back a step, caught off guard, but then heâs pulling you closer, like heâs been waiting for this forever.
His hands cup your face, fingers threading into your hair, holding you like you might disappear if he lets go. And you grip the front of his shirt like itâs the only thing keeping you standing, like if you let go, the moment might shatter around you.
Heeseung sighs into the kiss, like heâs relieved, like this is something heâs needed more than breathing itself. He tilts his head, deepening it, and you melt into him, the heat of his mouth sending shivers down your spine.
Itâs surreal, familiar and foreign all at once, like stepping into a dream youâve had before but never been able to hold onto. Because this is Heeseung. The boy who has always been by your side, the boy who has spent years making you laugh until your stomach hurts, the boy who has always been a constant in your life.
But now, heâs something else too. Now, heâs the only thing you can feel. And thatâs the strangest part, how utterly consuming this is. Because your brain is struggling to keep up, still caught in the absurdity of itâHeeseung is kissing me, Iâm kissing Heeseung, this is happening, this is happening.
And then he moves forward, stepping into the apartment fully, finally, his hands still tangled in your hair, still refusing to let you go. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound almost lost beneath the roar of the storm outside.
Heeseung doesnât hesitate. His lips find yours again, his hands skimming over your waist, like heâs memorizing the shape of you, like heâs trying to make up for all the time he spent pretending he didnât want this. And you canât breathe. Because this isnât like any kiss youâve ever had before.
Youâve kissed people you liked. Youâve kissed people you thought you could love. But you have never, never felt this. This heat, this ache, this impossible, indescribable pull. Like your entire life has been leading up to this moment.
Like every other kiss youâve had before this was just a poor imitation of what it was supposed to feel like. And thatâs terrifying. Because how do you go back after this? How do you pretend this doesnât mean something?
Heeseung exhales against your lips, his breath uneven, his fingers tightening just slightly against your waist. Like heâs thinking the same thing, like heâs struggling just as much as you are to make sense of this.
You should stop. You should pull away, take a breath, process. But you canât.
Because he tilts his head, kisses you deeper, and suddenly, youâre walking backward without realizing it, your body moving on instinct, your hands clutching at his shirt as if heâs the only thing keeping you steady. Heeseung follows, one hand sliding down to rest against the small of your back, guiding you without thinking, without hesitation.
Your legs hit the couch. You stumble slightly, your balance faltering for the first time, and Heeseung, on pure reflex, catches you. His hands tighten instantly, pulling you against him, steadying you before you can fall.
But the movement leaves zero space between you. You can feel everything, his chest rising and falling against yours, the heat radiating off of him, the way his fingers twitch slightly where theyâre curled into the fabric of your shirt.
His breath brushes against your lips, his nose bumping against yours as you both hover, just for a moment, just long enough to realize how close you are, just long enough to make it worse.
Before you can stop yourself, before you can think, you kiss him again. This time, itâs slower. This time, itâs deeper. This time, itâs not about the rush, the adrenaline, the storm raging outside. This time, itâs about everything else.
About the way his hands move carefully now, like heâs trying to remember every single detail, about the way he tilts his head slightly to fit his mouth against yours like heâs done this a thousand times in his head, about the way he lets out a soft, wrecked sound when you slide your fingers up into his still-damp hair. And youâre drowning in him.
You fall back onto the couch, pulling him with you, and he follows without hesitation, bracing himself with one hand on the cushion beside you, the other still gripping your waist, his fingers trembling just slightly against your skin.
His lips leave yours only for a second, just long enough for him to breathe, just long enough for his eyes to flicker over your face, like heâs trying to memorize you at this moment.
And then, so softly you almost donât hear itâ
âTell me you want this.â
Your breath catches. Because God, you do. You do. You always have. So you donât say anything. You just pull him down and kiss him again.
The weight of him settles over you, his body pressed against yours, his hands everywhere and nowhere at onceâon your waist, your ribs, twitching like he doesnât know where to hold you first, like he doesnât want to stop touching you long enough to decide.
It's overwhelming. His warmth, his scent, the soft, unsteady breaths he exhales between kisses, the way his fingers slide under the hem of your shirt just slightly, just enough to brush against bare skin. Itâs careful. Hesitant. Like heâs testing something fragile.
Heeseung groans softly, his grip tightening, his lips parting against yours in a way that sends a full-body shiver down your spine. His hands move up your sides, down to your hips, fingers pressing into the fabric of your clothes like he wants to commit this exact moment to memory. You arch just slightly, chasing his warmth, and the movement makes Heeseung suck in a sharp breath, his forehead pressing briefly against yours.
âYouâre gonna kill me,â he mutters.
You laugh, breathless, hands sliding up into his hair, tugging just enough to make him shudder. âThatâs dramatic.â
His lips graze yours again, barely there, just enough to drive you insane. âYou have no idea.â
And you could stay here foreverâwrapped up in him, in his weight, in the way his lips brush over your jaw, the corner of your mouth, like heâs learning you one kiss at a time.
He shifts just slightly, pressing more of his weight into you, his thigh slipping between yours, and your breath catches. Heeseung notices immediately. You feel it in the way his body tenses, in the way his grip on your waist tightens, in the way he exhales shakily against your cheek.
You donât move. He doesnât move. The air changes. Slows. Thickens. And suddenly, itâs not just kissing anymore. Suddenly, itâs so much more than that. Itâs every feeling youâve been ignoring, every second of the past three years, every single moment leading up to this one catching up to you all at once.
And Heeseung feels it too. Because he pulls back, just a little, just enough to look at you properly, his expression wrecked. His fingers brush against your cheek, light, careful, like heâs waiting for you to tell him to stop. Like heâs scared of what happens if you donât.
You stare up at him, breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears, andâ God, heâs beautiful.
His hair is still damp from the rain, strands falling over his forehead in a way that makes him look softer. His lips are kiss-bruised, parted slightly as he catches his breath, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.
You exhale slowly, one hand sliding down his chest, feeling the way his heart slams against his ribs, and he shudders. You know what this means. You know thereâs no going back after this. So you whisperâsoft, shaky, everything all at onceâ
"Heeseung."
And thatâs all it takes.
Heeseung exhalesâa shaky, uneven breath, like heâs barely holding himself together. His fingers tighten slightly where they rest on your waist, his body still hovering over yours. Then, softly, barely above a whisperâ
"Say my name again."
Your stomach flips. You donât, not at first. Because you feel lightheaded, because this is Heeseung, because what the hell is happening right now?
But Heeseung isnât impatient. He doesnât push. He just watches you, his gaze flickering over your faceâyour lips, your eyes, the way your breath catches in your throat. And then, carefully, deliberately, he grabs your wrist.
Your breath hitches as he lifts your hand, as he guides it slowly, until your palm is pressed flat against his chest. You can feel it. His heartbeat. Itâs slamming against his ribs, too fast, too unsteady, completely out of control.
You stare at your hand, at where it rests over his racing pulse, at the way his skin burns beneath your touch. Heeseung swallows hard.
"You feel that?" he murmurs, his voice low, rough, wrecked.
And you do, because itâs all you can feel, because itâs like his entire body is responding to you, and you nod, your fingers twitching slightly against his shirt.
Heeseung lets out a breath like heâs relieved, like he needed you to know this, to feel this, to understand what you do to him. Then, slowly, carefully, giving you every chance to stop him, he leans down, brushing his lips against the curve of your jaw. You suck in a breath, your eyes fluttering shut as he moves lower, pressing the softest, slowest kiss to the side of your neck. Your fingers curl against his shoulders, your pulse hammering beneath your skin, and he feels it.
âHeeseung,â you breathe, and itâs embarrassing how it comes out, a little too soft, a little too needy, like youâre already losing yourself in him.
He shudders, letting out a sharp breath. âFuckââ
Then, his teeth graze your pulse point, and you gasp, back arching instinctively into him. Your hips shift beneath his, your hands moving without thinking, fingers grasping at the hem of his hoodie, your skin itching for more of him, more warmth, more of everything.
Heeseung lets you. He lets you push the fabric up, lets you brush your fingers over the bare skin of his stomach, lets you feel the way his muscles tense under your touch. He exhales a groan, head dropping to your shoulder like youâve just taken the breath right out of him.
He murmurs your name, voice strangled, his fingers digging into your waist as if youâve completely unraveled him. You suck in a breath, your hands still fisting his hoodie.
âI want to hear you,â he admits, so quietly, like he almost wasnât planning to say it out loud. âI want toââ
He cuts himself off with another soft groan as you push the hoodie all the way up, your fingers skimming over his bare chest before you finally tug it over his head. It hits the floor with a soft thud, but you barely register it.
Because Heeseung is above you, half-naked, breathing heavy, flushed, and looking at you like youâre the only thing in the world that exists. You donât know what to do with yourself. So you just stare up at him, breathless, waiting. And then, finally, you whisperâ
"Heeseung, tell me what you want."
Heeseung exhales sharply, his breath warm against your skin, his fingers still pressing into your waist like heâs trying to ground himself, steady himself, like heâs trying not to lose his mind completely.
His hand slides up, fingertips grazing your ribs, slow and deliberate, and you shudder beneath him. His thumb brushes the fabric of your shirt, his touch gentle but knowing, and he meets your eyes, and God, he looks ruined.
"I wantâ" He starts, but then he laughs breathlessly, shaking his head like he canât believe himself, like this is too much, like you are too much. His hands are still moving, still exploring, still teasing at the fabric of your shirt, still making your body burn in ways youâve never felt before. "I want all of you."
Your stomach flips. Because heâs not even touching you properly, and yet itâs the way he says it, the weight of his voice, the truth in it, that makes your pulse stutter.
And then, before you can respond, before you can tease him for how wrecked he sounds, his hands move, slow and deliberate. Fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up, knuckles skimming over your stomach, over your ribs, over every single inch of skin he reveals as he goes.
Your breath stutters, your body arching up into his touch. His jaw clenches, his lips part, and then heâs leaning down, pressing his mouth to your collarbone, trailing featherlight, open-mouthed kisses along your skin as he slowly tugs your shirt over your head.
And then, finally, your shirt joins his hoodie on the floor. And suddenly, youâre both bare and breathless, staring at each other like you donât know what to do next, even though you both know exactly whatâs about to happen.
"Heeseung," you whisper, and his eyes flicker, dark, burning, like your voice alone is enough to unravel him.
"Youâre not making this easy," he murmurs, his fingers skimming up your sides, his thumb brushing along your ribs, his body pressing down just slightly, just enough to feel how perfectly he fits against you.
Your breath catches. "Good."
And that ruins him. Heeseung groans, low and deep, and then heâs leaning down again, lips trailing along your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbone, soft, open-mouthed kisses, slow and deliberate, like heâs savoring every single second. His voice is strained, thick with something raw, something undeniable.
"You feel so good."
You whimper at his words, your nails digging into his shoulders, and Heeseung reacts immediately, his hips pressing down, his body slotting perfectly against yours, his breath catching as he feels you, all of you, right there beneath him.
"Shit," he mutters, his head dropping to your shoulder, his hands gripping your waist like he needs something to hold onto. Youâre both breathless now, bodies pressed so close thereâs no space left between you, every single movement sending heat crashing through your veins. "You have no idea how long Iâve wanted this."
Your heart stumbles. Because neither of you were supposed to say it. Neither of you were supposed to acknowledge it. But nowâitâs out there. And thereâs no taking it back.
And then Heeseung looks at you, really looks at you. His eyes, dark and hooded with something deeper than just desire, trace every inch of your face, your parted lips, the flush spreading down your neck, the way your chest rises and falls, rapid and uneven beneath him.
âYouâreâŠâ He swallows hard, his voice thick with something close to reverence. âGod, youâre so beautiful.â
His hands move lower, squeezing your thighs before dragging up again, pushing your legs further apart beneath him. Heeseung exhales sharply, his pupils blown wide as he takes in the way you look beneath him, flushed, needy, completely and utterly his for the taking.
âFuck.â His voice is raw, thick with barely restrained need. âYouâre perfect.â
His mouth finds your collarbone, lips hot and insistent as he moves lower, tasting, worshiping. His tongue flicks over the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing lightly before he sucks, leaving a mark. His fingers dig into your skin as he rolls his hips down against yours, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. He watches, fascinated, as your body reacts to his, as your fingers clutch at his arms, as your lips part with another breathy whimper that shoots straight through his bloodstream.
âYou like that?â he murmurs, dragging his lips up to your ear, his voice nothing but a low rasp. âLike feeling me this close?â You nod, but itâs not enough. Heeseung needs to hear you say it. âTell me,â he demands, his fingers tightening just enough to make you squirm.
âYes,â you gasp, your voice barely more than a breath.
Heeseung smirks against your skin, the sound of your desperation fueling the heat building between you. âGood.â His lips trail back down, kissing, tasting, exploring every inch of you. âBecause Iâm not done with you yet.â
Heeseung hovers over you, his breath warm against your skin as his hands trail lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your pants. His fingers toy with the fabric at your hips, teasing. His voice, when he speaks, is deep and laced with restraint.
âCan I take these off?â
His eyes flick up to meet yours, and the sight of him like thisâhis lips swollen, his gaze dark with barely contained desire, sends a shiver down your spine. Your stomach tightens, heat curling low in your belly as you whisper, âYes.â
And the second the word leaves your lips, Heeseung exhales sharply, like heâs been holding back this whole time. His hands move with deliberate slowness, sliding under the waistband, his fingers warm and firm against your hips as he starts to pull your pants down.
His hands guide your pants lower until they slip past your thighs, pooling somewhere near your ankles, and he takes his time, his lips pressing slow, reverent kisses along the soft skin of your lower belly, just above the edge of your underwear.
He groans against your skin, his voice husky. âYou have no idea how good you look right now.â
His hands splay over your thighs, his lips follow the same path, pressing kisses, biting gently, dragging his tongue across the warmth of your skin as he moves lower. You let out a shaky breath as he spreads your legs just a little more, his fingers gripping, massaging, his lips marking every inch of your inner thighs as he inches closer to where you need him most.
Heeseung hums against your skin, his breath hot, teasing. âSo soft,â he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration, with hunger. His hands squeeze your thighs, his fingers digging in just enough to make you arch slightly. âSo perfect.â
His lips brush dangerously close to the edge of your underwear, his nose nuzzling against the sensitive skin just beside it, inhaling deeply like he wants to drown in you. His grip tightens. His lips part, and he looks up at you.
The sight of him between your legs, hair messy, lips swollen, his dark eyes filled with something you canât quite nameâitâs almost too much.
His voice is thick, teasing but affectionate. âYouâre shaking,â he notes, his thumb brushing the inside of your thigh in slow, soothing circles.
Your breath catches. âBecause of you.â
Heeseung groans softly, his hands gripping tighter, his lips trailing higher again, back to your hip, back to your stomach, his teeth scraping lightly against the sensitive skin there. âYou have no idea how much I love hearing that,â he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
Slowly, he starts to move up. His fingers slide up to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek, like he needs to feel every part of you, like heâs grounding himself in your presence. He exhales sharply, his forehead resting against yours for the briefest second, like heâs gathering himself, like heâs trying to hold back.
âI need to taste you,â he murmurs, his voice nothing but a raw, desperate rasp. âPlease.â
Your breath stutters, your fingers gripping onto his arms, feeling the tension coiled tight beneath his skin. You swallow hard, trying to steady yourself, but the truth is, you want this just as much.
âI need to hear you say it,â he murmurs.
Your pulse is a pounding rhythm against your ribs, your whole body thrumming with heat, but somehow, you manage to find your voice.
âYes,â you whisper. âI want it. I want you.â
Heeseung groans, his grip tightening for just a second before heâs moving again, kissing down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. His hands slide back down your body, slow and deliberate, like heâs savoring every inch of you.
And then heâs sinking back down between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours, his hands parting your legs with a reverence that makes your head spin.
Heeseung grips the hem of your underwear between his fingers, his breathing ragged, his hands slightly trembling as he looks up at you. His eyes search yours, dark and full of something raw. âCan I?â His voice is hushed, reverent, like a prayer whispered into the silence.
Your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, as you nod. âYes,â you murmur.
Heeseung exhales, almost like heâs relieved, like he was afraid youâd stop him. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he slides the fabric down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin as he does, his touch both featherlight and electric.
And then he sees you. His breath catches in his throat, his hands tightening slightly around your thighs as he takes you in. His gaze, hooded and heavy with admiration, rakes over you like heâs trying to commit every inch of you to memory, like he canât quite believe youâre real.
âFuck,â he mutters under his breath, his voice almost disbelieving.
The way heâs looking at your body, so intense, so completely captivated, sends a flush of heat racing up your spine. Your instincts kick in, your legs twitching slightly as the urge to close them overtakes you. But Heeseung doesnât let you.
His hands move quickly, firm but gentle as he grips your thighs, keeping you open for him. âDonât hide from me,â he murmurs. âYouâre fucking perfect.â
Your breath hitches, your whole body thrumming under his touch. Heeseung leans in, lips ghosting over your inner thigh, his breath hot against your already burning skin. He looks up at you again, his eyes locking onto yours, and what he says next sends a sharp pulse of anticipation straight through your core.
âIâm going to make you feel so good,â he promises, his voice low, edged with something sinful. âSo good that youâll never forget me.â
And then he dips down. The first press of his mouth against your clit is enough to steal the air from your lungs. Warm, wet, hungryâHeeseung doesnât just touch, he devours. His tongue moves slow at first, tasting you, savoring every single reaction you give him.
You gasp, arching against him, your body already trembling from the sheer intensity of his touch. Heeseung groans against you, the sound vibrating through your core, sending shockwaves up your spine. His grip on your thighs tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he keeps you exactly where he wants you.
âYou taste so fucking sweet,â he murmurs, voice muffled against your heat. âJust like I knew you would.â
Your moans come freely now, breathy, desperate, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as Heeseung works you open with his mouth. He hums against you, pleased, lost in you, whispering praise between every stroke of his tongue. âSo good for me.â Kiss. âSo fucking perfect.â Lick. âYouâre mine.â Suck.
And when you whimper his name, broken and pleading, Heeseung only grips your thighs tighter and pulls you even closer, determined to ruin you completely.
Heeseung groans against you, the vibrations sending a shiver up your spine as he keeps his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking, licking, savoring you like heâs starving. Then, slowly, he moves one hand between your legs, his fingers tracing a teasing path through your slick folds. You shudder, your hips instinctively bucking at the sensation, and Heeseung chuckles, a low, rough sound against your skin.
âSo wet for me,â he murmurs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before glancing up at you through dark lashes. âSo fucking perfect.â
And then he presses a finger inside you. The stretch is slow, deliberate, his touch both gentle and utterly devastating as he sinks into your heat. You gasp sharply, your walls fluttering around him, and Heeseung groans, low and guttural.
âFuck,â he hisses, watching the way you take him in. His finger curls inside you, testing, feeling. âYouâre so tight, baby.â
The words send another wave of heat crashing through you, your body tightening at the sheer hunger in his voice. Heeseung doesnât stop, he eases his finger in deeper as he continues working you open, his tongue never once leaving your clit. Your back arches, your fingers tangling in his hair, and Heeseung groans again, the sound muffled as he devours you, the heat of his mouth sending you spiraling closer to the edge.
âHeeseungââ His name slips from your lips, breathless, desperate.
Heeseung growls against you, deep and possessive, and you swear you can feel the sound reverberate through your entire body. His grip tightens, his pace quickens, his finger thrusting deeper, curling, coaxing pleasure out of you with every calculated stroke.
And then he adds a second finger. Your body tenses, the stretch just enough to make you whimper, and Heeseung groans at the way you clench around him.
âYouâre taking me so well,â he praises, his voice thick, raspy, dripping with admiration. âSo fucking perfect for me.â
His lips wrap around your clit again, sucking hard, and your body seizes, heat curling so tight inside you that you canât hold back any longer. Heeseung feels it, and he sucks harder, pumps his fingers deeper, his other hand pressing down on your stomach to keep you still as your moans turn into cries, your body trembling beneath him.
âCum for me,â he murmurs against your skin. âLet me feel it.â
And you do. The pleasure slams into you all at once, stealing the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your body locks up, your thighs trembling around his head. Heeseung doesnât stop, he keeps licking, keeps sucking, drawing every last drop of pleasure from you as you fall apart beneath him.
Your body shudders, aftershocks rippling through you, and Heeseung finally slows, his touch turning soft, reverent, as he presses one last lingering kiss to your sensitive clit before pulling back.
He looks up at you then, his lips glistening, his pupils blown wide, his breath ragged. And then he smirks, his voice low and utterly wrecked.
âTold you Iâd make you feel good.â
You smile softly, but before you can even reach for him, he moves, fast, precise. A startled gasp escapes your lips as he manhandles you, lifting you effortlessly off the couch, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, his hands gripping your thighs with a possessiveness that sends a shiver through your entire body. His hold on you is strong, unwavering, his fingertips pressing into your skin like heâs afraid to let go.
You cling to him, your arms locking around his shoulders as he carries you with ease, moving through the dimly lit apartment. Your lips find his neck, tasting the warmth of his skin, inhaling his scent. The closeness, the heat between your bodies, makes you whimper softly against his throat.
And Heeseung groans. A low, deep sound that rumbles in his chest as he grips you tighter, his pace quickening like heâs growing just as desperate as you are.
Because this isnât just anyone. This is Heeseung.
The boy who has been stitched into your life for years, who has laughed with you, argued with you, known you in ways no one else has. This is the person you love most in the worldâand youâre finally having him like this for the first time. The thought makes you cling to him even harder, your lips trailing messily along his jaw, your fingers gripping at his shoulders, needing more, needing all of him.
When Heeseung reaches your bedroom, he doesnât hesitate. He kneels onto the bed with you still wrapped around him, letting your back sink into the soft mattress as he gently lays you down, his body hovering over yours.
His breath is heavy, his chest rising and falling as he looks down at you, his gaze deep, searching. His Bambi-like eyes, so wide, so full of something tender, something real, hold you in place more than his body ever could.
His hands, still gripping your thighs, slowly loosen, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your skin. Like heâs memorizing you. Like heâs realizing, holy shit, this is happening.
And then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches for his belt. The soft sound of the buckle unfastening fills the space between you, followed by the quiet rustle of fabric as he pushes his pants down, revealing his bare skin, the strong lines of his toned body, every inch of him that youâve never seen before but already crave more than anything.
You exhale sharply, your eyes dragging over him, admiring the way the soft glow of your bedroom light casts shadows over his sculpted stomach, the definition in his arms, the sharp cut of his hips. Heâs breathtaking. And every second that passes, the ache inside you grows, the need twisting tighter and tighter.
You swallow hard, your voice soft but certain when you finally whisper, âI didnât know I needed you this much until now.â
Heeseung stills. For a moment, his breath catches, his fingers twitching where they rest against your skin. The flush that spreads across his cheeks, blooming down his neck, his lips part slightly, his eyes flickering between yours, something breaking, something giving way inside him.
Then he looks down at you again. And this time, his gaze is molten. Dark, intense, filled with something raw and unfiltered as he leans down, his lips hovering just above yours.
âI think,â he whispers, his voice low, breathless, âIâve always needed you like this.â
And then he kisses you. Deep, slow, pouring everything into it, every ounce of longing, every unsaid word, every moment spent waiting for this. His hands roam, tracing the curves of your body, feeling, memorizing.
The moment you feel him, thick and hard against your aching core, you let out a soft, needy moan against his lips. Heeseung still has his underwear on, but the heat of him, the way his hips press down, grinding slowly against you, makes your body arch instinctively, chasing the friction.
Heeseung groans into the kiss, deep and guttural, the sound vibrating against your lips. His teeth catch your lower lip, tugging gently, before he soothes the sting with a slow, lingering kiss.
Your hands wander, trailing down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the firm ridges of his toned stomach, lower, until your fingers reach the waistband of his underwear.
Your breathing is ragged, your body thrumming with anticipation as you whisper, âPlease, take this off.â
Heeseung curses under his breath, his body tensing above you. He doesnât want to tease you, doesnât want to drag this out. He wants you just as much, he needs you just as badly. Without hesitation, he pushes his underwear down, freeing himself completely. The air between you thickens, the weight of the moment settling in as his bare body hovers over yours, his skin flushed, his muscles taut with restraint.
You lean in, hands splaying across his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath. Your fingers trace every inch of him, his collarbones, the defined lines of his stomach, the dip of his lower abdomen, moving lower. But before you can go further, Heeseung catches your wrist. His grip is firm but gentle, his breathing heavy, his eyes dark and searching as he looks at you.
âY/N,â he murmurs, voice hoarse. âI need to ask youâŠâ He swallows hard, his thumb brushing slow circles against your wrist, like heâs grounding himself in your touch. âAre you totally sure?â
Your chest tightens at the rawness in his voice. His expressionâso open, so vulnerableâmakes your heart clench.
âBecause once this happens,â he continues, his forehead nearly touching yours, âIâm not ever letting you go.â
And there it is. The unspoken truth, finally laid bare between you. This isnât just a night of pleasure. This isnât just a long-overdue release. This is everything.
Your lips part, your throat tightening with emotion, and for a second, you can only stare at him, overwhelmed by how much he means to you, how deeply you feel this. Then you whisper, with more certainty than youâve ever had about anything in your life:
âIâve never been so sure about something before.â
The moment the words leave your lips, something shifts in Heeseung. His entire body tenses for a beat, then he exhales shakily, like heâs been holding his breath this whole time, like heâs just now letting himself believe this is real.
And then he kisses you. Itâs not slow. Itâs not careful. Itâs hungry, possessive, filled with all the pent-up emotions neither of you ever dared to voice until now.
His hands slide up your arms, capturing your wrists, pinning them above your head as he presses you deeper into the mattress. His body presses against yours, skin to skin, warmth melting into warmth.
And then you feel it, the tip of his cock, hot and heavy, pressing against your entrance, so achingly close. Heeseung breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his breath uneven. He looks down between you, his jaw clenched, his grip tightening just slightly on your wrists as if this is the moment heâs been waiting for all his life.
His voice is nothing but a hushed rasp when he says: âTell me if it hurts.â
Heeseung lets go of your wrists, his hands sliding down your body with a deliberate slowness, like heâs savoring the feeling of your skin beneath his palms. His fingers find your hips, gripping them gently before one hand moves lower, wrapping around the base of his cock.
He watches you carefully, his gaze dark, hungry, yet filled with something soft, something almost reverent, as he presses the tip against your entrance. He doesnât push in just yet. Instead, he rolls his hips slightly, dragging himself against your slick folds, teasing, his length brushing against your clit in slow, deliberate strokes. The sensation sends a shiver through you, a breathless whimper escaping your lips as your fingers dig into his biceps, your body tensing in anticipation.
Heeseung groans, his grip tightening around himself as he watches the way your body reacts to him. âFuck,â he breathes, his voice wrecked. âYouâre so wet⊠so fucking perfect for me.â
Your nails sink deeper into his skin as he finally begins to press inside, the stretch slow and steady, filling you inch by inch. The feeling is overwhelming, him, thick and hot, splitting you open so exquisitely that all you can do is moan softly against his shoulder, your body trembling beneath him.
Heeseung curses under his breath, his forehead dropping to the crook of your neck as he stills, letting you adjust. His hands slide up your sides, fingers grazing over your ribs, your waist, gripping you firmly like heâs afraid to let go.
âYou feel so good,â he rasps, pressing a kiss just below your ear. âSo fucking good, baby.â
His words send another rush of heat straight through your core, and you canât help the way your hips shift slightly, taking him even deeper. Heeseung groans at the feeling, his lips parting against your skin.
He lifts his head, searching your face, his eyes filled with both need and restraint. âIs this okay?â he murmurs, his thumb brushing softly over your hip. âCan I move?â
You nod quickly, breathless, your fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms, his shoulders, needing him closer. âYes,â you whisper. âPlease.â
Heeseung exhales sharply, his grip tightening on your hips as he begins to move, rolling his hips in slow, deep thrusts. Your breath stutters, a moan slipping from your lips, and Heeseung loses it.
His movements quicken, his hips snapping against yours, his grip turning bruising as he holds you in place, thrusting deeper, harder. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving, and with every stroke, he sinks further into you, like heâs trying to become a part of you.
âFuck, baby,â he growls, his voice rough against your skin. âYouâre taking me so fucking well. So perfect for me.â
His lips find your jawline, tracing a path down your neck, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin before he sucks, leaving a mark, claiming you in every way possible. Your moans grow louder, your body arching against him, and Heeseung groans, loving the way you respond to him, the way you cling to him like heâs the only thing keeping you grounded.
His lips travel lower, over your collarbone, down to the valley between your breasts. He kisses, licks, nips, worshiping every inch of you as he keeps thrusting into you, each movement deep and unrelenting.
âYouâre mine,â he murmurs against your skin, his voice wrecked, possessive. âOnly mine.â
His grip on your hips tightens as he pounds into you, his pace growing desperate, wild, his body completely losing control in you. And all the while, he praises you. âTighter than I ever imagined.â Thrust âSo fucking beautiful.â Kiss âYou feel like heaven, baby.â Groan.
His words, his touch, his everything push you closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling beneath him as the pleasure coils tightly inside you, ready to snap. And Heeseung feels it. He knows youâre close. And heâs not stopping until he sends you over the edge.
Your body trembles beneath him, pleasure curling tight inside you, hot and overwhelming. Your fingers cling desperately to his skin, your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to ground yourself against the way he moves, deep, unrelenting, perfect.
âHeeseungââ Your voice is breathless, wrecked. Your nails dig into his back as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. âGod, you feel so good.â
Heeseung groans at your words, his hips stuttering for just a second before he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. âYouâre such a good girl for me,â he rasps, voice dripping with praise, with something darker, something possessive.
And thatâs when you snap. The coil inside you tightens dangerously, winding so tight you know youâre seconds from breaking. But you donât want to break, not yet.
So, with the last shred of control you have left, you grab Heeseung by the side of his neck, your fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair, holding him in place. âLet me ride you,â you plead, your voice thick with desperation. âPlease.â
Heeseung growls. A deep, guttural sound that sends a shiver through your entire body. His fingers dig into your hips, his thrusts faltering for a moment as your request sinks in. Then, he moves. In one smooth motion, Heeseung shifts, rolling over and pulling you with him. The world tilts, and suddenly, youâre on top, straddling him, his cock still buried deep inside you.
A sharp, choked moan leaves your lips as you feel him fully, the angle changing, the sensation making your entire body tremble.
âFuck,â Heeseung groans beneath you, his hands flying to your waist, holding you steady as his eyes drag over your body, your heaving chest, the flush painting your skin, the way youâre clenching around him, barely able to contain yourself.
His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted, his entire expression wrecked with need. âYou look so fucking beautiful like this,â he murmurs, his voice thick, reverent.
His hands move, Heeseung slides them up your torso, fingers splaying across your ribs before catching your breasts in both hands, squeezing, worshiping. His thumbs flick over your nipples, and the sensation sends another jolt of pleasure straight through you, making you whimper.
âYouâre so delicious,â he groans, his thumbs circling your hardened peaks, his hips rolling up slightly into you, making you gasp.
Your head tilts back, your hands bracing against his chest, your body arching into his touch. The heat between you is unbearable, your body already on the edge, but you refuse to let this end too soon.
You start to move, slowly at first, rolling your hips in a deliberate, teasing rhythm, feeling every inch of him stretch and fill you completely. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, pleasure pooling deep in your stomach as you watch Heeseungâs reaction.
Heeseung groans, his grip on your thighs tightening, fingers digging into your flesh like heâs trying to ground himself, trying not to lose control too soon. His head tilts back for a moment, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths as he tries to contain himself.
âFuck,â he grits out, his jaw clenching as his eyes squeeze shut, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. His hands flex on your thighs, squeezing, like heâs trying to hold back, like the feeling of you around him is too much.
But then he opens his eyes, and the second his gaze locks onto you, dark and hooded with raw, unfiltered hunger, your whole body burns. His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted, sweat glistening along his collarbones as he watches you move above him, taking him so perfectly, so effortlessly.
âYouâre fucking unreal,â he groans, his voice rough, biting down his lips, barely above a whisper. âJust like that, baby. You feel so fucking good.â
His words send a jolt of pleasure through you, making you clench tighter around him. Heeseung feels it, and his breath hitches, his fingers twitching against your skin.
One of his hands moves from your thigh, sliding up your body, tracing along your stomach, your ribs, before finding the back of your neck. He grips you there, firm but gentle, and pulls you down until your foreheads almost touch, your breath mingling with his.
His other hand stays on your thigh, stroking, soothing, before he snaps. A deep growl rumbles in his chest, and he picks up the pace, his hips rolling up to meet yours, his hands guiding your movements. The pleasure intensifies, your thighs burning with the effort, but Heeseung doesnât let you slow down.
His hands slide to your hips, gripping hard, his fingers pressing into your flesh as he takes control. And then he slams into you. A sharp, broken moan escapes your lips as he thrusts up, driving deeper, harder, filling you so completely that you swear you might lose your mind.
âThatâs it,â he groans, his grip unrelenting as he pounds into you, chasing the feeling of you wrapped so perfectly around him. âTake it, baby. Take all of me.â
His voice, deep, rough, dripping with praise, sends you spiraling, pleasure building, your body trembling under his relentless pace. His mouth finds your jaw, then your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your skin between ragged breaths. His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your sweat, and then his teeth graze your pulse point, his lips closing around it as he sucks.
Your fingers claw at his shoulders, your body arching against his, your moans coming faster, higher, completely overwhelmed by the way heâs taking you.
Heeseung doesnât slow down. His thrusts stay deep, hard, relentless, his grip unyielding as he drives into you, chasing the pleasure building between you both. His hands remain at the back of your neck, keeping you close, keeping you exactly where he wants you, his breath hot against your skin.
He groans, voice wrecked, rough. âFuckâbaby, you feel so good. So fucking perfect.â
His words send another wave of pleasure crashing through you, making your thighs tighten around his hips. Youâre close, you can feel yourself unraveling, your body tightening as the coil inside you threatens to snap. And Heeseung knows. He feels it.
His fingers tighten against your skin, his movements growing desperate, erratic, as his own release begins creeping up on him. His forehead presses against yours, his breath uneven, his voice nothing but a strained rasp.
âCum for me again, baby,â he pleads, his words like fire against your skin. âLet it go.â
The command, the way his voice drips with authority and adoration, is what finally undoes you. A sharp, broken moan rips from your throat as your body tenses, pleasure surging through you like wildfire. Your walls clench around him, pulsing, milking him, and Heeseung loses it.
A deep, guttural groan escapes his lips as he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep, his entire body shuddering as he lets go, his release spilling into you. The pleasure crashes over both of you at once, your moans mixing together, filling the room, raw and unrestrained.
And then, stillness.
Your body, still trembling, collapses against his chest, your forehead pressing into the slick heat of his skin. Your breaths are ragged, uneven, matching his as he tries to catch his pace, his chest rising and falling beneath you.
Neither of you speak for a long moment, the silence filled only with the sounds of your slowing breaths, your racing heartbeats.
Heeseung moves his hands, still firm but now gentle, slide down to your lower back, his fingers tracing lazy, soothing circles against your damp skin. His touch is tender, reverent, like heâs memorizing you all over again, like he canât believe this moment is real.
His lips brush against your hair, barely a whisper of a kiss, before he exhales shakily. And then, he murmursâsoft, breathless, like a vow.
âIâm never letting you go.â
Your chest tightens at the raw emotion in his voice. His arms wrap tighter around you, holding you impossibly close, his hands never stopping their slow caresses against your back. His lips press against the top of your head, again and again, each kiss softer than the last.
âNever,â he whispers. âNever, never, neverâŠâ
His words sink into your skin, into your bones, into you. And as you melt further into his embrace, letting the warmth of him envelop you completely, you realize: You never want him to let go.
You slowly lift your head, your breath still uneven, your body still thrumming with the remnants of pleasure.
You meet his eyes, his Bambi-like, doe eyes, wide and full of something so deep, so undeniable, it makes your chest tighten. They glimmer under the dim light of your bedroom, reflecting every unspoken word, every silent confession hanging thick in the space between you.
You let out a breathy, almost disbelieving smile, your gaze sweeping over his face, his flushed cheeks, his damp hair clinging to his forehead, the soft sheen of sweat on his skin. He looks wrecked. He looks perfect.
And heâs looking at you like youâre the only thing in the world that matters.
Heeseung mirrors your smile, soft and hazy, his expression filled with something tender, something so Heeseung that it makes warmth flood your entire body. His hands find your face, large and warm, his knuckles grazing your cheeks in slow, delicate strokes, like heâs trying to memorize the shape of you.
You lean into his touch, nuzzling against his palm, and the way he exhales, soft, shaky, like heâs feeling everything too, sends a shiver down your spine.
Then, barely above a whisper, you say, âIâŠâ
And suddenly, you stop yourself.
Because the weight of what you were about to say hits you all at once.
Your lips part slightly, your throat tightening. The words are right there, sitting heavy on your tongue, aching to spill out. But thereâs fear too, fear of what this means, fear of how much this changes everything.
Heeseung notices. His fingers pause against your cheek, his brows twitching just slightly, his gaze flickering between your eyes like heâs searching, trying to read you.
But then, he smiles. Soft, knowing, patient. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his touch featherlight, his voice a quiet murmur in the space between you.
âI know,â he whispers.
Your breath catches. Because you believe him.
Heeseung has always known you better than anyone, always understood you in ways that no one else could. And right now, in this moment, with the way heâs holding you, looking at you, you realize you donât have to say it.
Because he already knows.
Heeseung leans in, his nose brushing against yours, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting, giving you the choice. And when you press your lips to his in the softest, most deliberate kiss, youâre telling him everything you couldnât say in words.
Heeseung sighs into the kiss, his hands sliding down your back, pulling you closer, pressing you against his warmth, his heartbeat steady beneath your palm.
And when you finally pull away, when you rest your forehead against his and breathe him in, you realize: You were never afraid of loving Heeseung.
You were afraid of admitting that you always have.
But now, with his arms around you, his lips brushing against your temple, his heartbeat syncing with yours, you donât have to be afraid anymore.
Because heâs never letting you go.
And neither are you.
Thatâs why he stays at your house the next day. And the day after that. And for the few days that follow, until time becomes a blur and neither of you think to question it.
Because how could he leave, how could either of you go back to a world where you werenât tangled up in each other like this?
The first morning, you wake up wrapped in Heeseungâs arms, your head tucked against his chest, his fingers absentmindedly tracing soft, lazy circles against your back. Neither of you move for a long time. Neither of you want to.
His lips press into your hair, a silent good morning, and you melt into him because it feels natural, because this is Heeseung, your best friend, the boy who has always been a constant, and yet, now, everything is different.
And itâs better. He doesnât leave. You donât ask him to.
Instead, you spend the morning like you have a thousand times before: lounging on the couch, talking about nothing, watching movies youâve seen a hundred times. Except now, thereâs a new rhythm, an unspoken understanding.
His fingers brush yours absentmindedly. His arm finds its way around your waist without hesitation. His lips press against your temple between conversations like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
Because maybe, it is.
The second night, he kisses you in the kitchen while youâre making dinner, stealing a taste of the sauce on your lips, grinning when you roll your eyes. The third night, you fall asleep with your fingers intertwined, his breath warm against your neck, his hand resting over your heart like heâs afraid you might slip away in the night. By the fourth day, heâs using your shampoo, leaving his clothes in your drawers, stealing your socks because he swears theyâre more comfortable than his own.
By the fifth, you donât even realize he never went home. Because this is home now. Not the walls. Not the bed. But this. Him. You. Together.
One night, a week after everything changed, you find yourselves in your living room, curled up against each other, laughter spilling into the quiet air.
It feels surreal, how easy this is, how natural. And yet, when you look at him, really look at him, you realize this was never sudden at all. This wasnât a moment. This was a lifetime in the making.
It was in the late-night phone calls when you both shouldâve been asleep. It was in the way he always kept your favorite snacks in his kitchen without thinking. It was in the stolen glances, the inside jokes, the nights spent shoulder to shoulder, pretending you didnât feel the weight of something more. It was in every single thing before this.
And now that the truth is out in the open, now that you know, you donât ever want to live in a world where you donât wake up next to Heeseung. And it doesnât feel real.
Not because you donât want it to beâbut because it still catches you off guard. The quiet way Heeseung reaches for your hand without thinking. The way his presence in your space isnât something fleeting, but something constant. Something permanent.
Itâs been two weeks since everything changed, and somehow, the world didnât shift to match it. The sun still rises the same way. Your friends still send memes in the group chat. Life moves on, but now, thereâs this.
This is Heeseung pressing a sleepy kiss to your shoulder when he wakes up before you. This is him playing with your fingers absentmindedly when youâre watching something together. This is the way he still teases you the same, still makes fun of you the same, but now he kisses you after like he canât help it.
Yunjin is the only one who knows.
She had her suspicions, she always had her suspicions, but it became painfully obvious the moment you showed up at her place wearing a hoodie that was at least two sizes too big, one she distinctly remembered seeing Heeseung wear last week.
Which is why, at her birthday party, thereâs this lingering tension in the air. Itâs subtle, the way you and Heeseung hesitate just slightly when youâre around the others, the way you donât know if youâre supposed to act like you always have or like somethingâs changed.
Because something has changed. But the world doesnât know yet.
You and Heeseung sit at the dining table, pretending everything is normal, pretending that youâre not constantly aware of the warmth of his body next to yours, the way his knee brushes yours every time he shifts.
And then, under the table, he takes your hand. Itâs subtle, careful, the warmth of his palm slipping against yours, his fingers threading through yours in a way that makes your stomach flip. Heeseung doesnât look at you, doesnât acknowledge it, just holds your hand beneath the table, like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
âFinally,â Sunghoon mutters, watching Heeseung with a knowing smirk.
Heeseung freezes. You both turn to see Sunghoon leaning against the chair next to him, arms crossed, eyes flickering down to where your hands are intertwined beneath the table.
âI was wondering when you were gonna stop being a coward,â Sunghoon teases, nudging Heeseungâs foot under the table. âTook you long enough, man.â
Heeseung groans, dropping his head back against the chair. âJesus, Sunghoon.â
Sunghoon just grins, clearly enjoying this way too much. âNah, Iâm happy for you guys. But also, I knew you two had something going on.â He points a lazy finger at you. âYour whole âweâre just friendsâ thing was so fake.â
The table erupts in laughter, and you sigh, shaking your head. But then, Heeseung squeezes your hand, and when you glance at him, heâs already looking at you. Soft. Quiet. Certain. And you realize, this feels right. Being here. Being together. Being this.
The night winds down. People leave. And you end up in Heeseungâs car, the windows slightly fogged from the cold air outside. The soft strum of Waiting Room fills the quiet, the melancholic chords settling deep into your chest.
You watch Heeseung, his hands gripping the wheel loosely, his face relaxed, bathed in the glow of the streetlights.
âWanna go to McDonaldâs?â
You blink. âWhat?â
Heeseung smirks, eyes flickering to you before turning back to the road. âYou heard me.â
A beat of silence. You laugh. âYeah. I do.â
You order fries and ice cream and talk about the dumbest things. about how Niki's new girlfriend is the worst, about how Jay got too drunk, about how Jake still doesnât know how to properly pour a drink.
But somewhere between the laughter, somewhere between the way Heeseung licks salt off his fingers and tosses fries into your mouth, somewhere between the way you lean against his shoulder in the drive-thru line.
Heeseung sighs. And thenâ
âI donât think Iâve ever been this happy.â
You still. Your fingers tighten slightly around your drink, your breath catching at the quiet, vulnerable way he says it. And when you turn to look at him, heâs already looking at you, soft, so soft, his gaze deep, searching.
Your chest tightens. âHeeseungâŠâ
He smiles, a little shy, a little unsure. Then, he reaches out, sliding his fingers over yours, his thumb brushing your knuckles.
âI justââ He swallows, then exhales. âI think Iâve loved you this whole time.â
Your breath catches. And in that moment, in the soft hum of the radio, in the glow of the streetlights, in the taste of salt and ice cream and the warmth of Heeseungâs fingers against yours, you know.
âI thought maybe it would go away,â he continues, his lips quirking slightly, like heâs laughing at himself. âLikeâitâs just Y/N, right? My best friend.â
You hold your breath, watching him, the streetlights casting soft shadows across his face, making his eyes look even softer, warmer.
âBut then,â Heeseung shakes his head, laughing under his breath. âEvery time I thought I had it under control, youâd do something stupid, like wear my hoodie and refuse to give it back, or make me watch Shrek 2 for the tenth time, or grab my hand in a crowded room like it was nothing.â He swallows, his voice dropping to something even softer. âAnd Iâd realizeâI was never going to stop feeling this way.â
Your chest tightens. Because itâs always been like this, hasnât it? The quiet kind of love. The kind that slips into the cracks of everyday moments, unnoticed until one day, itâs too big to ignore.
You feel the words sitting heavy in your throat, pressing against your ribs, and when you finally speak, your voice is barely a whisper.
âHeeseung.â He looks at you, his brows lifting slightly, like heâs bracing himself. You take a slow breath, steadying yourself, then squeeze his hand. âI think Iâve loved you this whole time, too.â
The tension in his shoulders dissolves instantly. His lips part, his eyes searching yours like he wants to make sure he really heard you right.
And then, he smiles. Not the teasing kind, not the smirk he throws at you when heâs making fun of you, but something real. Something deep. The kind of smile that says, I know. I knew before you even said it.
You shift closer, your forehead brushing against his, the warmth of his breath mixing with yours. âI donât know why it took me so long to realize it,â you murmur. âBut I do now.â
Heeseung hums, tilting his head slightly. âYou sure?â
You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. âYeah, Iâm sure.â
âGood.â He squeezes your hand, his nose nudging against yours. âBecause I wouldâve had to spend another three years waiting for you to catch up, and I donât think I could survive that.â
You groan, shoving his shoulder lightly, and he chuckles, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you in, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head.
And just like that, itâs easy again. The way you tease each other, the way you fit against him, the way you fall back into the rhythm of your friendship except now thereâs no pretending.
Now itâs all out in the open. And itâs better.
As Heeseung drives you home, the song still playing softly in the background, your mind drifts back. To three years ago. To that stupid Halloween party where you met, you in your skeleton costume, him in that ridiculous Ninja Turtle onesie.
To the late nights spent working on that Shrek project, arguing about PowerPoint transitions like it was life or death, only to laugh until your sides hurt. To the wedding where he spun you around on the dance floor, looking at you like he already knew, like he was just waiting for you to catch up. To every car ride, every inside joke, every time you almost realized what he meant to you.
Your fingers tighten around his, and Heeseung glances at you, his eyes flickering between you and the road.
âWhat?â he asks, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You shake your head, but youâre smiling too. âNothing.â
Because you understand now. Because Waiting Room plays softly in the background, and the lyrics echo in your chestâknow itâs for the better.
You do. You know now that keeping Heeseung in your life like this, is the best thing youâll ever do.
And when Heeseung looks at you, his grip on your hand tightening like he knows too, you realize.
For you, it was worth waiting.
my masterlist 𧊠ââ
// previous fic
author's note: hey guys! this is my first long fic about heeseung, the first one i've ever written, and i hope you liked it! i know 21k+ words is a lot, but i had so much fun writing it. thank you for reading! <3
4K notes
·
View notes
Text



CUMMING OF AGE
bsfs brother!Heeseung x f!reader - when you ask him to teach you how to masturbate. (pure porn with plot. MDNI 18+, explicit, masturbation, cunnilingus, phone sex, ANGST, fluff too so its fine.) âIf sheâs not cumming, sheâs not listening to her pussy.â âAnd if she wonât listenâŠâ âIâll make her.â
Youâve always had a hate-hate relationship with masturbation.
Not the âhaha I donât know what Iâm doingâ kind. Not the shy, innocent kind. The kind where you tried, over and over again, and every time it ended in that same aching, pathetic wayâpanties soaked, fingers numb, pussy throbbing, and absolutely nothing to show for it.
No finish. No orgasm. Not even a fucking twitch of satisfaction.
You rubbed and rubbed, like everyone said to. You found your clit. You circled it. Pressed it. Flicked it. Tried soft and slow, then fast and desperate. Tried with spit, with lotion, with fucking coconut oil once. But nothing ever felt right. Just this frustrating hum of almost. Like your body was teetering on the edge of something big and just⊠refused to jump.
Youâd end up sore. Agitated. Your legs would shake, but not the good kind. Your pussy would swell, throbbing like she was mocking you for trying.
It made you feel broken. Or worseâboring. Like your body was wired wrong. Like youâd missed the most basic feminine skill everyone else seemed to be born with.
Girls talked about cumming like it was breathing. Like they could do it in five minutes flat with one hand and a good imagination. Youâd hear them talk about shaking through the sheets, arching off the bed, seeing starsâand youâd smile and nod and laugh along, pretending like you got it, like you knew what it was like to get wrecked by your own hand.
Youâd never even come close.
You tried toys. You bought a vibrator and nearly cried when it did nothing but make your arms go numb. You tried grinding on pillows until the friction made you raw. You tried porn. You even tried watching yourself once in the mirror like some kind of twisted self-help therapy. Nothing worked.
Youâd touch and touch and chase and beg for it in your headâplease, just this once, just let me finish, pleaseâand still end up breathless, sticky, empty.
Youâd cry sometimes. Just a little. From the frustration of it. From the absolute humiliation of being so fucking horny and not being able to do anything about it.
You hated that about yourself. Hated the way your body seemed to enjoy the build and not the release. Hated the way your clit would throb for attention and then get overwhelmed the second you gave her any. Hated the need. The noise. The mess with no reward.
But the worst partâthe actual worst partâwas how much you still wanted it. How much you still tried. Like a dog chasing its own tail. Like some needy little loser who couldnât leave it alone.
You were eighteen, for fuckâs sake. You were supposed to know your body by now. You were supposed to be able to make yourself cum. You were supposed to own your pleasure.
Instead, you were stuck with a pussy that got wet at the idea of being touched and then shut down the second you did.
It made you feel fucking insane.
So you gave up. Mostly. You still touched yourself when you needed toâwhen it built up too much and made your thighs ache. But it wasnât about cumming anymore. It was maintenance. A reset button. A pressure valve. You did it in the dark, quietly, quickly, just to shut your body up.
You didnât even think about pleasure anymore.
You didnât dare.
-
EvieâHeejoo, but you only ever called her that when you wanted to piss her offâwas your best friend in the world. Ride-or-die since ninth grade, bonded over a shared hatred of your chem teacher and the fact that neither of you fit into your schoolâs carefully manicured social circles.
Where you were sharp and quick with your mouth, she was soft-spoken and wide-eyed, just sweet enough to disarm anyone who got too close. You balanced each other out. She calmed your storm. You stirred hers.
You were over at her house so often it barely felt like visiting anymore. You knew the code to their garage door. You had your own toothbrush in her bathroom. Her mom kept your favorite cereal in the pantry like clockwork. You even had a drawer in her room, mostly old hoodies and stolen pajama shorts that smelled like her perfume.
It wasnât unusual for you to spend the weekend there, or three nights in a row, or an entire spring break. Her parents didnât mind. They liked knowing where you both wereâliked having an extra body in the house, even if they never said it out loud.
And then there was Heeseung.
Her older brother. Four years up. Barely a presence.
When you were younger, he was just the older guy who sulked in his room and stole her chargers. Sometimes heâd give you a ride when Evie asked, sometimes heâd walk past you in the kitchen and grunt a greeting, but that was about it. He was there, and then he wasnâtâoff to college, off to god knows where, vanishing from your life as quickly as heâd drifted through it.
You had a tiny crush on him once, freshman year. The kind that sparked quick and stupid, fed by his lazy smirk and the way he wore his backwards cap while fixing his car in the driveway. It died fastâsuffocated by time and distance and his complete disinterest in acknowledging your existence beyond a nod or a side-eye.
By the time he moved back home post-grad, you barely noticed. He was older now, busier, always in his room with the door closed, voice low behind it, like he was on constant phone calls or late-night games or⊠something.
You didnât think about him much. He was just Evieâs brother. Part of the background. White noise.
Your focus was always Evie.
She was the one who held your hair when you puked. The one who lent you a dress before every shitty date. The one who knocked on the bathroom door when you were taking too long and said, âYou better not be edge-cumming again, bitch,â like it was the most normal sentence in the world.
She talked about sex like it was just part of the air. Blunt. Effortless. She could make herself cum in three minutes flat. She said it with confidence, like breathing.
You hated how easily it came to her. You loved her anyway.
You always felt safe in her house. Safe in her bed, tangled up under a shared blanket, legs overlapping like twins born too far apart. Her room smelled like vanilla and lip gloss and safety. It felt like yours.
-
The house settled around you like it always didâquiet, gentle, familiar in a way that made your muscles loosen and your brain drift. Even the silence felt padded here. The hum of the fridge downstairs, the occasional pop of cooling pipes, the subtle click of the thermostat shiftingâbackground noise youâd grown so used to, it almost felt like home.
Evie was out cold beside you, one arm thrown carelessly across your stomach, her breath hot against your ribs. She always slept fast after wine. She always slept on you, tooâlike her body never quite understood boundaries even after all these years. You didnât mind. It was comforting, the weight of her. Like a grounding wire for the anxious, electric static building low in your belly.
Sleep wasnât coming for you, though.
Youâd been lying there in the dark for the better part of an hour, phone dimmed to nearly unreadable brightness, eyes burning from the glow. Nothing on your feed caught your attention. Youâd scrolled past the same content three times already, thumb swiping out of pure muscle memory.
Something restless twisted beneath your skin, persistent and irritating. Not quite horniness, not quite insomniaâjust that same pulsing tension that had been sitting heavy between your legs all night. Like your body was trying to tell you something without using words. You shifted under the blanket, trying not to disturb Evie, thighs pressing tighter together to relieve the dull ache. It only made it worse.
The urge to do something about it had been growing for hours.
Youâd thought about sneaking off to the bathroom. Youâd done it beforeâquiet, quick, businesslike. Just enough friction to take the edge off before falling asleep, still unsatisfied but too tired to care. The idea barely tempted you anymore. You already knew how it would end: the usual mess of spit-slick fingers, your clit swollen and sore, pussy wet and pulsing and still refusing to give you anything real.
Just the thought of trying again made you clench your jaw.
It was pathetic, the way your body teased you. Wet for no reason. Needy without payout. Over and over again, like clockwork. Like punishment.
You turned your phone off with a quiet sigh and let the screen go black.
For a moment, all you could hear was the creak of the floorboards expanding under the weight of a settling house. A branch tapping against the window. The subtle drag of Evieâs breathing. You stared at the ceiling, tired but tense, willing yourself to shut down the frustration building behind your ribs.
A manâs voice, deep and casual, barely audible through the cracked bedroom doors. Not enough to make out words. Not yet. Just the soft cadence of speech, rising and falling like a secret being shared too close to the edge of the world.
Heeseungâs door was open. Or cracked. Just enough to let a sliver of sound spill out. You hadnât even realized he was home tonight.
Your body stilled, like it always did when you felt watchedâexcept this time, you were the one doing the watching. Listening, technically. Just barely.
There was a pause, then a laugh. Not his. Another voice. Someone else. Male. Maybe one of his friends from school, the ones who came and went without warning. You couldnât place the sound, and you didnât care.
Your focus sharpened the second Heeseung spoke again.
âItâs not that hard. Girls make it harder than it is."
âIf sheâs not cumming, sheâs not listening to her pussy.â
The sentence dropped like a stone in the middle of your chest.
Not whispered. Not dirty. Just⊠stated. Like a law. Like fact.
Your fingers flexed unconsciously against the blanket. Heat flushed your neck and settled low in your belly, familiar and unwelcome. You didnât move. Couldnât.
There was something about the way he said it. Not performative. Not like he was trying to sound cool. Just calm. Confident. Like the kind of guy who got women off without effort and never thought twice about why.
Every hair on your arm lifted. He didnât stop there.
âAnd if she wonât listenâŠIâll make her.â
No laughter followed that. No teasing. Just a quiet moment where it hung in the air, unchallenged.
You lay frozen in the dark, heart thudding, mouth slightly open. Your legs ached under the blanket, thighs tense and pressed together. You werenât just turned onâyou were caught. Cornered by something you werenât supposed to hear and couldnât let go of.
Something clicked. Not like a revelation, not some dramatic internal monologue, just⊠a shift. A tilt in the floor beneath your feet. A door opening in a room you didnât realize you were trapped in.
You didnât even know what you wanted in that moment.
But for the first time in your life, you wonderedâreally wonderedâwhat your body would feel like under instructions that werenât your own.
-
You tried not to think about it for the rest of the day. Swore you wouldnât spiral.
You kept the overheard words tucked somewhere tight in your chest, smothered under fake laughter and half-listened stories while Evie walked you through her latest dating app disasters. You made it through brunch, through an entire Target run, through two face masks and one trashy Netflix documentaryâand you almost convinced yourself you were over it.
But when the house quieted again that nightâwhen Evie fell asleep curled up on the far side of the bed with her arm draped over a pillow instead of youâyou gave in.
You waited a while. Just in case she wasnât fully out. The kind of sleep that could crack open with the creak of floorboards.
And when her breathing evened out, soft and deep and oblivious, you slid out from under the blanket, grabbed your phone, and slipped into the hallway.
The bathroom door closed with a soft click behind you.
You didnât turn the light on right away. Just stood there for a second in the dark, breathing.
The air was cooler here. The tiles cold against your feet. The smell of Evieâs shampoo still clung to the roomâvanilla and something floral, sticky-sweet. You stared at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, barely visible in the silver sliver of hallway light. Your face looked flushed. Too open. Like something had already been peeled back.
You sat on the closed toilet lid, tugged your hoodie over your thighs, and pulled your phone into your lap.
No buildup. No browsing. You knew what you were looking for.
The video you always came back to. The closest thing youâd ever found to what worked. A deep voice. Slow instructions. Just audioânothing to watch, nothing to focus on but sound.
It wasnât him, but it didnât have to be. Not yet.
Your underwear stuck to the heat between your thighs as you slid it down. Still wet from the tension that had been building since that morning. From the second you saw Heeseung in the kitchen and felt your legs press together automatically.
The wetness shouldâve been a good sign.
But you already knew how this would go.
You played the video. Turned the volume down low. Closed your eyes.
Your fingers found your clit easily. Rubbed gentle circles, the way the voice said. You tried to breathe through it, tried to slow down, to listen.
There was too much pressure too soon. Your skin twitched with every touch. The angle was wrong. The rhythm never quite synced. Your body jerked between feeling almost there and feeling absolutely nothing.
You tried harder.
Tried picturing somethingâsomeone. His voice. His mouth. The way he looked at you this morning like you werenât just Evieâs friend, like he saw something else.
That made your fingers move faster. Your hips twitch up from the seat, trying to find somethingâanythingâthat would tip you over.
But it never came.
Just heat. Just sweat. Just the same stinging tension in your thighs and the wave that built up, crested, and refused to break.
Your hand dropped. Your chest heaved with a breath that sounded too much like a sob.
You sat there for a full minute in silence, pussy swollen, twitching, soaking your handâand still nothing. You hadnât cum. Not even close.
Not even fucking close.
Your palm dragged across your inner thigh as you reached for toilet paper, the wet slick of your own arousal catching against your skin, obscene and bitter and useless. You wiped your hand clean, flushed, washed it under the tap in a daze.
Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, bottom lip bitten raw.
This wasnât working.
You couldnât do this by yourself. Not anymore.
The shame didnât even hit you until you opened the door, stepped back into the hall, and looked toward Heeseungâs room.
You didnât remember walking from the bathroom to his door. Not really. Your body moved on instinct, fingers still damp with failure, breath shallow and uneven like youâd been runningânot down a hallway, but in circles inside your own skin. Everything felt hot and wrong, like you were standing too close to something dangerous and still leaning closer.
The light from under his door was soft, pale blue. The kind of glow that came from a computer screen and sleepless hours. It made the hallway feel colder. Your skin felt clammy beneath your hoodie, thighs still tacky with your own arousal, pulse thudding hard behind your ears. You didnât even try to calm yourself before raising your hand. There wasnât enough time. There wasnât enough anything left.
You knocked.
Soft, quick. Regretted it immediately.
Nothing.
The silence on the other side stretched just long enough to make you feel stupid. You shouldâve gone back to Evieâs room. Shouldâve locked the bathroom door and buried your face in your hands like you always did. Shouldâve swallowed the shame and left it to rot where it always did: at the bottom of your throat.
Your hand was already dropping when the doorknob turned.
Heeseung opened the door halfway, leaning into the frame, and for a second you couldnât speak. You werenât expecting him to look like thatâhoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, collar askew, hair a damp mess like heâd run his hands through it one too many times. His sweatshorts hung low on his hips, legs bare, skin flushed warm like heâd just come out of the shower⊠or just come. You had no way of knowing which. And it made your brain short-circuit either way.
He didnât look surprised to see you. Just confused.
His eyes dragged down your body with a slow kind of calculation, and you swore you saw the moment they caught on the way your thighs were pressed together, your bare legs twitching under the hem of your hoodie. The way your breath hitched in your throat. The way your fingersâstill wet, still tremblingâcurled tighter at your side.
He blinked once, brows pulling in slightly.
âYou good?â
The question was simple, quiet. But it hit like an echo in a room with no furniture. You were not good. Not even close.
Your voice came out before you could soften it. Flat, direct. âDo you have a girlfriend?â
He blinked again. Caught off guard this time.
ââŠWhat?â
âI just need to know,â you said quickly, words tumbling over each other. âBefore I say anything. It matters.â
He stared at you for a beat, mouth twitching like he wasnât sure if he should be amused or suspicious.
âNo. I donât.â
You exhaled like someone had untied a knot inside your chest.
âFuck.â
His eyes narrowed slightly. âWhat?â
âIf you said yes,â you muttered, eyes darting to the floor, âI wouldâve had an excuse not to ask you.â
That made him pause.
He shifted his weight, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned into the doorframe like he was settling in. His voice was a little lower when he asked, âAsk me what?â
Your whole body burned. There was no easy way to say it. No casual phrasing. No safe distance between you and the truth anymore. You didnât have the energy to dance around it.
âYou said something last night,â you started, forcing yourself to look at him. âAbout girls who canât finish. About how theyâre not listening to their bodies.â
He watched you carefully. No expression, just the slow, measured study of a man waiting for the rest.
âI heard it,â you added. âBy accident. But itâs been stuck in my head. And I thoughtâI donât know, I thought maybe you were right.â
Still nothing. Just his gaze crawling over your face, down to your knees, like he was trying to see where this was going before letting himself speak.
You swallowed, the taste of failure still thick in your throat. âI tried again tonight. Bathroom. Just now. Iâve been trying for years, and itâs always the same. Nothing works. I canât finish. I touch myself, and it justâgoes nowhere.â
Your cheeks burned. You didnât even know why you were telling him all this. You barely knew the guy. The last time youâd had a real conversation was probably three birthdays ago when he offered you a ride and you said no because he smelled like weed and fuckboy cologne.
But here you were. Standing in front of him like some half-dressed, sweat-slick confession, spilling everything.
And he still hadnât said a word.
Your next breath shook as it left you.
âI donât want you to touch me,â you said, quieter now. âI just want to ask⊠if youâd tell me what to do.â
That got something out of him. A small breath through his nose, not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief. His eyes droppedâlower this timeâto your legs again, to the edge of your hoodie, to the bare skin flushed and prickling under the hallway air.
He nodded once toward you, chin tilting. âYour handâs still wet.â
You froze.
His voice was low, unreadable. âYou tried that hard, huh?â
You didnât answer. You couldnât.
He stepped back.
Just a few inches. Just enough to open the door wider. The light from inside poured out around him, cool and soft and full of static.
He held your gaze.
 âCome in. Close the door behind you.â
The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and just like that, the house disappears. Evieâs room, the hallway, your entire carefully contained worldâit all drops away. Thereâs only the low glow of his monitor casting pale blue light across the carpet and the quiet hum of something electric in the corner, like the room itself is holding its breath.
You hover near the door for a second, not sure what to do with your hands, your legs, your shame.
Heeseungâs already sitting, legs wide in his desk chair, turned toward you like he was waiting the whole night for this. He shifts, pushes himself up slightly, and drags the chair forwardâlazily, unbotheredâuntil it sits right in front of the bed. Close enough that if you spread your legs, heâd have a front-row seat.
Then he flips the chair around, straddling it backwards like some cocky delinquent in detention, arms crossed over the backrest, chin resting casually on top. His expression doesnât change. He just watches you.
âGo ahead,â he says, voice calm and low, like this is just another Tuesday night. âSit.â
You make your way to the bed, legs tense, breath shallow, and perch at the edge like it might bite. Your thighs clench on instinct, hoodie pulled low, trying to shield what you already know heâs seen. Youâre still warm from the bathroom. Still soaked. Still aching.
His eyes drift down. Slow. Lazy. No shame.
You fidget.
Heeseung doesnât move. âDonât get shy on me now. You came in here asking for a masturbation lesson, not a bedtime story.â
Your lips twitch. You almost laugh. Almost.
He lifts his chin. âTell me what you usually do.â
The question lands harder than it should. Not because itâs dirty, but because itâs so simple.
You blink. âLike⊠where I touch?â
âYeah.â
You hesitate. âI usually just go straight to my clit.â
âFigures.â He doesnât miss a beat. âAnd then what? Rub the fuck out of it âtil it gets sore and wonder why it doesnât work?â
Your mouth falls open in a small gasp. âExcuse me?â
He shrugs one shoulder, unbothered. âDonât take it personal. Thatâs what most girls do. Itâs not your fault you think the goal is speed over sense.â
You donât respond, but your silence is answer enough.
He leans in a little, forearms resting on the chair back, gaze glued to your bare thighs. Thereâs no hunger in itânot yet. Just observation. Like heâs assessing you.
âIf your pussy had a voice,â he says smoothly, âsheâd be screaming at you to chill the fuck out.â
Youâre quiet for a long second. Because the worst part is⊠heâs not wrong.
He watches you squirm, and something like amusement passes over his features. Not cruel, but smug.
âTake your time,â he says, gentler now. âYou rush her, she locks up. Doesnât matter how wet you are.â
ââŠShe?â you murmur, lifting a brow.
Heeseung shrugs again, like itâs obvious. âYeah. She.â His eyes flick to yours. âYou donât gotta name her or write poetry about her, but you should probably stop treating her like a vending machine.â
Your laugh breaks before you can stop it. Quick and sharp, nerves bleeding out of your throat. âYouâre so annoying.â
âAnd yet, youâre still here,â he says with a smirk, eyes dark. âGo on. Show me how you start.â
Everything tightens. You feel the weight of his voice low in your belly.
You donât move right away.
He raises a brow. âYou said you didnât want me to touch you. Thatâs cool. But I need to see what youâre doing wrong.â
Your breath hitches.
Your hand moves on instinctâslow, shakyâand dips beneath the hem of your hoodie, then under the band of your panties. Youâre already wet. Embarrassingly wet. And when your fingers graze over your clit, you flinch. Itâs too sensitive. Too much. Your hips jerk a little, and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow the motion.
You rub. Once. Twice. Itâs not bad. Itâs what you always do.
But stillânothing clicks.
Heeseung tilts his head. âYouâre too stiff.â
âIâm nervous,â you admit quietly.
âDonât be.â His voice drops half an octave. âYou look hot.â
The way he says itâit doesnât sound like a compliment. Just a fact. Like heâs telling you what time it is. Like your soaked fingers and clenched thighs are something heâs been picturing all night.
âYouâre thinking too much,â he adds. âTrying to force it instead of feel it.â
Your hand stills.
He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now, more intimate. âTry this. Press your hand flat. Just hold her. No rubbing. No tapping. Just⊠feel her.â
You hesitate, then obey.
The flat of your hand settles between your legs, heat blooming up your arm from the contact. Your whole body clenches around it.
âFeel that?â
You nod. Barely.
âThatâs what she likes,â he murmurs. âYouâve been poking at her like sheâs a fucking keyboard. No wonder sheâs not putting out.â
You let out a breathy laughâhalf scandalized, half aroused. âYouâre unbelievable.â
âAnd youâre soaking through your panties,â he says, deadpan.
Your breath catches. Heeseung doesnât laugh. Doesnât look away.
He sits there like heâs got all the time in the world. Like heâs doing you a favor. Like heâs enjoying this. Youâre not even sure heâs hard yetâbut he will be. You can feel it building. Between you. In you.
He lets the moment hang.
Then: âNowâslow circles. Donât speed up unless she tells you to.â
âShe doesnât talk,â you whisper, teasing without confidence.
His gaze is heavy. Steady.
âShe does,â he says, voice like heat sliding under your skin. âYou just havenât been listening.â
The room feels hotter now.
Not just the airâyour skin, your mouth, your thighs. Sweat clings to the backs of your knees, damp beneath the bunched-up hoodie, and your panties are so wet theyâre practically glued to one thigh. Your hips keep twitching without your permission, rolling up slightly with every pass of your fingers. Itâs not graceful. Itâs not some porn fantasy. Itâs messy and uneven and real, and Heeseung is watching every second of it like itâs the only thing worth watching.
You keep thinking you should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. Youâre spread open on his bed, hand stuffed between your legs, whining softly every time you stroke a little too hard and have to ease back againâbut youâre too far gone now to stop. Your cheeks are flushed, lashes wet, lips parted, and you canât look away from him.
He hasnât blinked once.
Heeseung is still straddling the backward chair, elbows resting on the top, chin on one hand like this is casual. Normal. Like youâre just some half-naked girl jerking off in front of him for practice and heâs your substitute teacher for the night.
The only thing thatâs changed is his posture.
His knees are spread wider than before. His forearms are tense. One hand grips the edge of the chair a little tighter every time your body jerks, and you donât miss the way his jaw flexes every time your breath stutters or your voice cracks.
Youâre doing this to him.
But not enough.
Not enough to make it stop hurting. Not enough to make the ache go away. Not enough to finish.
Youâre trying. God, youâre trying.
Your fingers rub in slow circles, not too fast now. Youâre listening. You are. But your body keeps tensing at the edge, like itâs scared to fall off the cliff itâs been building for years. Your handâs cramping. Your clit throbs. Your stomach clenches like youâre closeâand then it dips, again and again.
Itâs good. So good.
But itâs not enough.
You choke on a frustrated sound, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and your free hand fists the blanket beneath you like itâs the only thing keeping you grounded.
Heeseung speaks, finally, voice low and steady. âStill rushing her.â
âIâm not,â you whisper.
âYou are. I can see it.â
You shake your head, breath stuttering. âIâm not trying toâI swear, Iâmââ You gasp. âItâs justâitâs notââ
You stop. Words catch in your throat. Your hips are rocking now, involuntarily, chasing a sensation that keeps pulling away the second you get close. Your fingers are wet, your pussyâs pulsing, and it still feels like youâre just rubbing up against a wall.
âItâs not enough,â you breathe out, broken. âIâI canâtâfuckâsheâs not listening.â
Heeseung leans forward slightly, something sharp flashing in his eyes.
âOh, sheâs listening,â he says. âYouâre just not talking to her the right way.â
You whimper. âThen tell me what to say.â
That makes his mouth twitchâjust barely. Like heâs been waiting for that.
âTell me what sheâs feeling first.â
âIââ Your voice cracks. âSheâs tight. Warm. I feel herâpulsing. Like she wants something butâsheâs not opening.â
He tilts his head slightly, gaze dark. âShe wants to be filled.â
You nod.
âNo,â he says. âSay it.â
Your chest heaves. Your hand hasnât stopped moving, rubbing slow, desperate circles around your clit. âShe wants to be filled.â
âSay it like you mean it.â
âShe wants to be fucking filled,â you whine. âSheâs throbbingâsheâs soakingâfuck, I can feel her squeezing nothing.â
Heeseung exhales slowly, eyes flicking down between your legs again.
âThere you go,â he murmurs. âNow sheâs talking.â
Your fingers glide lower, catching more slick and sliding back up. Everythingâs soaked. Youâre dripping down onto the sheets, and your thighs are trembling from the strain of keeping your hips lifted just right.
âShe needs more,â you pant. âSheâs clenchingâsheâs starvingââ
Heeseungâs hand flexes around the edge of the chair again. His voice drops, almost to a growl. âSo feed her.â
You moanâhigh and breathyâand press harder, circling your clit faster now, the way your body wants. Your lips are wet, your fingers slipping, but it doesnât matter. Everything is slick and hot and alive.
âYouâre soaked,â he mutters, eyes burning into you. âLook at your fucking fingers.â
You do. Itâs obscene. Your hand shines in the light, your fingers coated in slick. You barely recognize your own body like this. Ruined. Responsive.
âSheâs begging,â he says softly. âAnd youâre finally listening.â
You whine, eyes squeezing shut. Your free hand presses against your lower belly, trying to hold the heat in. Your pussy twitches at the pressure.
âSheâs so fucking greedy,â you gasp. âShe wonât stop pullingâI canâtâI canât keep upââ
âYou donât have to,â he says. âShe knows what sheâs doing. Let her take it.â
You donât even realize how loud youâve gotten until you hear yourself moan againâshameless, cracked open, shaking from the inside out.
Your legs spread wider. Youâre not trying to hide anymore. Not from him. Not from yourself.
Youâre right there.
Youâre going to break.
Heâs just watching. Like itâs his favorite thing heâs ever seen.
Youâre right on the edge, and this time itâs not teasing.
Itâs sharp. Fast. Inevitable.
Your legs are trembling now, hips jerking with every motion, and your fingers are soakedâslipping against your clit, coating your inner thighs, dripping down the crease of your ass like your bodyâs trying to fuck itself open. Every stroke sends another wave of tension through you, and thereâs no holding it anymore. Your body is begging. Your pussyâs leaking, twitching, clenching around nothingâand Heeseung watches like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
You donât even realize youâre moaning until you hear it echo back at you in the small room. High-pitched. Desperate. Wet.
The sound of your pussy is louder now too. Sticky and obscene, each rub slicker than the last. You can hear it every time you roll your hips into your palm.
Heeseung doesnât say a word for a second too long.
You lift your head, eyes glazed over, panting.
His eyes are darker now. Half-lidded. Focused on your pussy like heâs reading it better than your face.
He shifts in his chair. Spreads his knees wider. His hand dips into the front of his sweatshorts, slow and casual, like he canât ignore it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his fingers wrapping around himselfâand your breath catches so hard your vision blurs.
Heâs so hard.
His voice comes out deeper. Filthy. Measured like itâs the only thing anchoring him in the room.
âLook at that messy little cunt.â
Your body jerks at the word. Youâve never heard it said like that. Never felt it hit like that.
Heeseung strokes himself once, slow and firm under the fabric.
âSheâs drooling all over your fingers. So fucking hungry. Bet sheâs never been this loud for you before.â
âShe hasnât,â you breathe. âShe neverâshe neverââ
âYouâve been starving her,â he says, still jerking himself lazily. âTouching her like sheâs a problem instead of a fucking meal.â
Your hand speeds up, and he sees it. Hears the slap of slick. Youâre humping into your fingers now, sloppy and desperate and so close you could scream.
Heeseung leans forward, one elbow braced against the back of the chair.
âYou wanna cum, baby?â
You nod frantically, but itâs not enough.
âUse your words.â
Your voice comes out cracked. âYes. PleaseâI wanna cumâI need itââ
âNeed what?â he pushes.
âI need her to fucking break,â you sob. âSheâs clenchingâsheâs beggingâshe needs to cum, she needs itââ
âThen let her,â he growls. âDonât fucking hold it. Let her make a mess.â
You whimper, fingers frantic, back arching off the bed.
And thatâs when he says itâlow and hot and foul.
âLet her fuck your fingers, slut.â
You snap.
Your body locks up, then shatters. You cum so hard your legs shake, hips jerking forward, thighs squeezing around your own hand as your pussy gushes over your fingers in sticky, messy waves. The moan that rips from your throat is broken, cracked, half-wet from tears.
It doesnât hit you right away.
At first, thereâs just white. Blinding. A full-body seizure of pleasure as your cunt clenches around nothing, soaking your own fingers, mouth open in a moan that doesnât even sound like you.
It crashes over you fast. Wet. Messy.
You cum harder than you ever have in your lifeâharder than you thought was even possibleâand your body just keeps going, hips jerking, slick dripping past your knuckles, your voice cracking on every gasp.
Heeseung is still there.
You know he is. You can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath in the space between your bodies, but you canât look at him. Not right now. Not like this.
And then it fades.
That warm, bright static in your brain flickers out. Your thighs twitch. Your hand finally drops, fingers soaked, wrist aching, clit too sensitive to touch again.
Whatâs left is the sound of your breathing. The slick, wet mess beneath your hips. The embarrassment flooding in all at once like a second wave.
Reality slams back into you hard.
Youâre laid out across his bedâsweaty, flushed, thighs spread wide and soaked all the way down to the crease of your ass. Your pussyâs still twitching, swollen and glistening, your panties bunched at one knee, hoodie halfway pushed up your stomach.
Your fingers shine in the low light. Still wet. Still shaking.
You sit up fast, panic sweeping over your skin like ice water. âShitâfuck.â
Your hand fumbles to pull your hoodie down, yanking it over your thighs, shoving your panties back into place even though theyâre absolutely soaked through. The fabric clings wetly to your pussy and only makes the mess feel worse.
Heeseung hasnât moved.
Still in the chair. Still one hand inside his shorts. He looks completely unbothered. Calm. Like you didnât just cum your entire soul out in front of him.
You canât meet his eyes.
He watches you fuss with the hem of your hoodie, your hands still trembling slightly as you try to make yourself look decent.
âDidnât say stop,â he says mildly.
You glare at him, cheeks burning. âI came. Pretty sure thatâs the goal, right?â
He shrugs one shoulder. âJust surprised youâre acting all shy now. That pussy was practically talking thirty seconds ago.â
âJesusââ you squeeze your eyes shut, bury your face in your hands.
Heeseung grins. Not mean. Not mocking. Just amused.
âYou do realize how loud you were, right?â he adds. âI thought the bed was gonna snap in half.â
âPlease stop talking,â you groan, voice muffled.
âYou were crying,â he says like itâs a compliment, hand still lazily palming himself under his shorts. âThat shit was beautiful.â
You peek at him through your fingers. Heâs still hard. Still watching you with that same steady calm, like this is fine. Like this is normal.
He doesnât even seem fazed.
That somehow makes the ache between your legs flare again. Weak, overstimulated, but greedy.
You clear your throat. âI didnât realize Iâum. That I could⊠do that.â
He raises an eyebrow. âCum?â
You shoot him a look.
Heeseung laughs, finally letting go of himself. âYouâve been fighting her for years. All I did was give you directions.â
You tuck your knees up into your chest, arms wrapped around them. You feel like you just stripped naked in front of someone who stayed fully clothedâand now heâs just lounging there like you didnât just show him the most private part of yourself.
You sit in that awkward silence for a few seconds longer.
Heeseung stretches, chair creaking slightly. âSo,â he says, tone casual. âLesson two tomorrow?â
You blink.
ââŠThereâs a second lesson?â
He smiles slow, eyes dropping to your thighs again. âYou think sheâs done learning?â
Your pussy twitches beneath your soaked panties.
-
Your legs are still weak from the first night when you leave.
Just a few days back home. Just a quick visit. You didnât think it would matterâbut the second you cross the county line, your pussy starts aching like she knows sheâs been abandoned. Like she misses his voice already.
You think about texting him before you even unpack your overnight bag.
 It starts that fastâbarely through the front door, barely through dinner with your parents, barely through pretending to care about someoneâs new side hustle or whatever cousin just had a baby, and already your mind is slipping.Â
Already youâre restless. Already your body feels too awake. You can still feel the slick sticking to the inside of your thighs from last night, from the way he sat in that chair like he was doing you a favor while you touched yourself for the first time like it meant something. It hasnât gone away. The ache stayed with you.Â
That trembling throb between your legs that didnât fade after one orgasmâor twoâor three. And now, here you are. Sitting in your childhood bedroom like you didnât just learn how to listen to your pussy in someone elseâs bed with someone elseâs voice in your ear.
You last all of twelve hours. Maybe thirteen if you count sleep, but thatâs cheating. You keep checking your phone like a freak. Not even for a messageâjust to see his name.
 You scroll through the notifications like maybe heâll magically show up. You open his contact. Stare at the little circle icon. You type a text. Delete it.Â
Type again. Delete. Pace the room. Pull your hair up. Let it fall. Lie on the bed. Toss the blanket off. Roll onto your stomach, then your back, then sit up again because your bodyâs too hot and your thoughts wonât stop dragging back to the sound of his voice saying âGood girl. Sheâs listening now.â
You try to distract yourself. Put music on. Stare at the ceiling. Scroll through reels. But the tension is building and itâs not casual. Itâs deep. Itâs mean.Â
Like your pussyâs crawling up your spine and whispering call him over and over again. And finally, like a fucking addict, you give in.
You donât try to be subtle. Your fingers tremble as you type the messageââCan I call you?ââand hit send before you can regret it. Your breath catches in your throat. Heart pounding. Shame twisting in your gut like youâve already crossed a line and he hasnât even replied. But then your phone buzzes. Two texts in a row. You click without thinking.
No. Iâll call you.
Speaker on. Hands ready. Nothing else.
You donât even get a second to prepare. The call comes in instantly, and you fumble to answer it, press speaker, toss the phone onto your pillow and sit back, legs shaking under your blanket. Youâre wearing nothing but a big t-shirtâno bra, no panties. Like your body already knew what was coming.
His voice is in your ear the second the line connects.
Low. Thick. Wrecked.
âYou waited all day just to fuck yourself to my voice, didnât you?â
The sound alone makes your thighs clamp together. You canât answer. You donât know what to say. You feel called out, ruined, exposed, and he hasnât even seen you.
âYouâre pathetic,â he breathes, and itâs not cruelâitâs reverent. Like heâs turned on by the depth of your desperation. âYou left for less than twenty-four hours and sheâs already starving.â
Your breath comes out shaky. âShe hasnât shut up.â
âI bet. That little pussyâs been crying for attention, hasnât she? Soaking your panties, throbbing for no reason. Did you even try to touch her?â
Your hand slides down your stomach. Shame floods your chest. âI tried last night.â
âAnd?â
Your fingers drift over your mound, soft and slow.
ââŠDidnât work.â
âOf course it didnât.â He doesnât miss a beat. âBecause sheâs not trained to your fingers. Sheâs trained to my voice.â
You nearly choke.
âTake the blanket off.â
You do.
âT-shirt stays. I want you messy under it. Like a filthy little secret.â
You obey, chest rising. The air hits your bare skin and your nipples pebble instantly under the thin cotton. You slide your hand under the hem and find yourself dripping alreadyâyour folds slippery and warm, your clit throbbing at the first brush.
âFuck. Youâre already wet.â
You donât answer.
âDonât ignore me. Say it.â
You whimper. âIâm wet.â
âWhere?â
Your hand slides lower. âEverywhere.â
âLet me hear it.â
You drag your fingers through your folds, then lift them to the mic.
Squish. Slick. Wet.
âJesus Christ,â he breathes. âSheâs fucking leaking for me.â
âShe wonât stop,â you pant. âSheâs been clenchingâsheâs needy. I canâtâI canât even think straight.â
âShe doesnât need you to think. She needs you to listen.â
You nod like he can see you.
âYou touching your clit yet?â
âNo,â you whisper. âJust teasing.â
âDonât tease her. Feed her.â
You obey. Your fingers find your clit and press slow, warm circles into the swollen skin. Your hips twitch immediately. Your body jolts with relief. Like itâs been waiting for this.
âFuck. Thatâs it. Let her roll her hips. Let her grind on your fingers.â
You do.
And you moan. Loud. Wet. Pathetic.
âYou sound like youâre crying.â
âI might be,â you choke out. âIâmâIâve been on edge all day. Sheâs screamingââ
âThen shut her up.â
Your fingers move faster. Your breath turns ragged. The slick is everywhere nowâcoating your palm, sliding down your ass, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can hear itâslap, slap, slapâand you know he can too.
âGod, listen to her,â he says. âSheâs fucking talking again. Slapping wet, loud as hell, crying to be filled.â
Your thighs start to shake.
âDonât you dare stop.â
âHeeseungâfuck, Iâm closeââ
âShe wants to cum. So let her.â
You cum hard, back arching, legs tensed, voice cracking open around a sob as your pussy convulses around nothingâjust your fingers, just your shame, just his voice dragging it out of you with nothing but command.
âAgain,â he growls. âDonât you dare take your hand off her. You begged for this. You waited all fucking day for it.â
You keep going. Because you canât stop. Because this is his now.
-
You donât get a break.
Heeseung doesnât let you.
After that first callâthe one where you came so hard you swore you saw starsâyou thought maybe the tension would ease up. Maybe youâd get to breathe. But you donât. Because the second you wake up the next morning, thereâs already a text waiting for you.
Morning. She hungry?
Your pussy clenches on reflex.
You bite your lip, cheeks flushing under the covers.
Yes.
His reply is instant.
Good. edge yourself until youâre shaking. No cumming. No cheating. Youâll send me a pic of your fingers when youâre done.
Thatâs it. No teasing. No sweet talk. Just commands. Direct. Cruel. And of courseâyou obey.
You finger yourself that morning with shaking hands, grinding into your palm in the silence of your old bedroom with one hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. You stop just short of release three times. Your panties are soaked. The sheets beneath you are ruined.
You send the photo.
Two slick fingers, gleaming. One droplet hanging from your wrist like a taunt.
He doesnât reply until hours later.
Beautiful. Donât clean her up. Let her stick to your skin. I want her to haunt you all day.
Thatâs how it starts.
Sometimes itâs a call. Sometimes itâs just a photo prompt. Sometimes itâs voice notesâlow, slow, whispered filth that you replay in the bathroom on full volume with your thighs clenched so tight you can barely breathe.
Another day: make a mess on your favorite pair of panties. Send proof. Donât wash them. Fold them and put them in your drawer like a secret. Like she remembers.
When you canât callâfamily dinners, company in the house, a wedding eventâhe doesnât complain. He just adapts.
He sends you three voice notes in a row, each one filthier than the last.
âAre you wearing panties right now?â
âSheâs wet just from this, isnât she?â
âPut your phone between your legs. Let my voice buzz against her while you grind.â
You do. In the middle of the day. On the edge of your childhood bed. With the door locked and your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of you cumming on command.
Every time you text him, he knows what you need before you say it.
On your knees. Two fingers. Say my name when you finish. Thatâs all.
You cum like a trained animal.
By the end of the fourth day, youâre overstimulated and aching. Your cunt stays warm. Your clit stays swollen. You canât think straight without hearing his voice. You canât fall asleep without a pillow between your legs and your phone under your ear, replaying the way he said your name like it tasted good.
He doesnât let you get comfortable.
I want her ruined by the time you get back. Wet stains on your thighs. Bruised from your own fingers. No excuses. You belong to me now, yeah?
-
Youâre at the dinner table when the text comes in.
Thereâs a bowl of pasta in front of you. Your uncleâs talking about traffic. Your momâs pouring more wine. And your phone buzzes in your lapâone tiny, harmless vibration you almost ignore until you see the name on your lockscreen.
Heeseung.
Your chest tightens immediately. A hot ripple runs down your spine. You unlock it under the table, heart already picking up speed, thighs pressed tight together like thatâs gonna help anything.
You expect a voice note. Maybe an instruction. Instead, itâs just a single message.
Donât open this here. Iâm serious.
You excuse yourself. Bathroom. You try to walk casually, but your legs feel unstable, like your body knows whatâs coming and is bracing for it. You shut the door. Lock it. Sit down on the closed toilet seat. And then you open the message.
Itâs not a photo. Not a voice note. Just a block of text.
And it destroys you.
I want you dripping. Right now. I want your thighs sticky. I want your pussy hot and twitching and swollen like sheâs just been edged for an hour and sheâs still not allowed to cum. I want her pulsing around nothing. Squeezing air. Leaking like she misses my cock even though sheâs never had it. Thatâs how good I want her trained. That she misses me even though Iâve never fucked her. I want you to slide your hand into your panties and feel her spit for me. Feel how filthy sheâs gotten just from reading my words. Not even hearing my voice. Just letters on a screen and sheâs frothing like a brainless little thing. I want her throbbing. Sore. Pink. Aching. I want you to pull your panties to the side and look at what Iâve done to you. How she opens for nothing. How she clenches for nothing. How she cries, fucking cries, when she doesnât get touched. I want her messy. Slutty. Wet enough to embarrass you. Wet enough you canât clean it up with one tissue. Wet enough that if someone walked into that bathroom right now, theyâd smell her. No fingers. Not yet. Just pressure. Palm down. Let her hump. Let her grind. Let her get yourself dirty. She knows what to do. She doesnât need permission anymore. Youâre gonna leak down your leg just reading this, arenât you? Sheâs already twitching. Already soaking. She knows what she is now. A thing that exists to be used. To be made wet. To be trained.
You stare at your screen. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.
And you feel itâthat slow, steady drip.
You slide your hand down between your legs and whimper when your fingers meet your pantiesâsoaked through. Hot and sticky, your folds puffy and swollen, everything throbbing with need.
You spread your legs wider. Thereâs no stopping it. You have to.
You push your panties aside, just like he said, and when you look down, your cunt is shining. Slick lips parted, clit swollen and begging, a string of wet clinging between your folds when you breathe too hard.
You cup her with your whole palm and rock once.
You grind again. Harder. The heel of your hand pressing directly on your clit. Your hips move faster, panting now, forehead pressed against your bent knee as your pussy humps your own hand like sheâs starved.
Youâre fucking yourself with no fingers. Just pressure. Just filth. Just his words rotting your brain and your pussy loving it.
You donât stop until your legs lock, jaw clenched tight to muffle the moan that rips through your throat. Your pussy convulses, grinding down hard, cumming in waves against your own palm until youâre crying silently, thighs soaked, panties a mess, body twitching from the force of it.
When itâs over, youâre wrecked. You sit there in silence. Breathing heavy. Panties still pulled to the side, hand drenched, cunt gaping and twitching like sheâs still looking for him.
You snap a photo.
Not of your face. Just your hand. Soaked. Ruined. Slick covering your wrist, dripping down your knuckles.
You send it. No caption. A minute later, his reply lights up your screen.
Thatâs how sheâs supposed to look. Every day until you get home.
-
You donât even knock.
You could, but whatâs the point? He told you to come over as soon as you got back. No texts. No warning. Just a short message yesterday night:
You better show up dripping.
And you are.
The shorts you wore are damp at the crotch, your hoodie clinging to the sweat on your lower back. Every shift of your thighs against the car seat on the drive over made you squirm. By the time youâre standing in front of his door, your cunt is throbbing. Empty. Trained. Starving.
He opens it like he already knew you were there.
Barefoot. Hoodie. Nothing underneath.
He stares at you for a second, quiet. His eyes drop to your legs, to the way youâre fidgeting, clenching, trying not to press your thighs together. He doesnât smile. He doesnât speak.
Just opens the door wider and lets you in.
You step past him. Silent. Heat prickling under your skin. His presence is loud, even without words. You can feel the pressure building alreadyâyour pussy knows. Sheâs aware. Aware of the air, of the scent of him, of how close he is now after five days of only hearing him through a speaker.
He closes the door behind you. And waits.
You turn to him, hands still curled into your sleeves. âI did everything.â
He lifts a brow. âYeah?â
You nod. Swallow hard. âEvery day.â
Heeseung steps forward slowly. Stops in front of you. His eyes flick down, over your body, like heâs looking for confirmation.
âYou leaking?â
Your breath catches. âYes.â
âProve it.â
Your heart slams against your ribs. But you donât hesitate.
Your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down in one smooth motion. They hit the floor and you step out of them, bare underneath, thighs sticky and glistening. Your hoodie barely covers your hips now. One inch higher and heâd see everything.
He doesnât touch you.
âShow me,â he says, voice low.
Your breath hitches againâbut you drop to your knees. Not because he asked. Because your body knows what to do now.
You kneel between his feet on the hardwood floor, hands moving to part your thighs so he can see. You pull the hoodie up to your waist and slide two fingers between your foldsâdripping. It spreads so easily. Glossy. Viscous. Your pussy folds open for your own touch like itâs nothing new. Like sheâs been practicing all week.
You keep your eyes on him the whole time.
And when your fingers come back up, soaked and glistening, you hold them out. Heeseung watches you in silence.
Then leans forward, slow and deliberate. He takes your fingers into his mouth and sucksâdeep, slow, tongue curling around them like itâs a reward.
Your hips jerk slightly. Your cunt clenches hard. He pulls off with a wet pop and stares down at you.
âShe tastes trained.â
You nod.
âShe beg yet?â
You exhale. âShe never shut up.â
He clicks his tongue. âYeah?â
Then he grabs your jaw. Fingers firm but not rough, tilting your face up to his.
âYou want her filled?â
You nod again. âPlease.â
âNot yet,â he says. âSheâs not ready.â
âIâm readyâsheâs so ready, Iâve beenââ
âI donât care what you think. Youâre not here to make decisions. Youâre here to do what I say.â He lets go of your face. âYou wanna get fed? Earn it. Lay down. Show me how she begs.â
You scramble onto the bed.
Flat on your back. Legs spread. Cunt on display. Dripping.
Youâre already on your back, knees drawn up, thighs spread and trembling, cunt pulsing with heat thatâs been building all week. You donât try to hide it. You canât. Your pussyâs wet. Loud. Lips glossy and parted, folds flushed and twitching like she knows the moment has finally come. Sheâs been teased. Trained. Denied. Youâve been filling her with fingers and pressure and your own voice, but never this. Never him. And now heâs standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like heâs finally ready to eat.
But he doesnât touch you first.
He picks your shorts up off the floor, turns them inside outâand finds your soaked panties tangled in the legs. He peels them out slowly, sticky with your slick, the thin fabric darkened and clinging to itself. You watch, breath caught, legs still open, burning with shame as he brings them up to his face.
And sniffs.
Deep.
He inhales like itâs a fucking ritual. Eyes half-lidded. Thumb pressing into the crotch to smear the wetness around before dragging it across his lip. His tongue flicks outâtastes it.
âJesus fuck,â he mutters under his breath. âSheâs been marinating in this.â
Your body jolts. Your hands fist the sheets.
âSheâs loud, too.â His voice drops lower. âI havenât even touched her and sheâs already talking. Look at her. Fucking twitching. Dripping. Spreading herself open like she knows who she belongs to.â
âHeeseungââ You whimper.
âShut up.â
He tosses your panties to the side and climbs onto the bed, slow and smooth, eyes never leaving your cunt. He settles between your legs and just kneels there for a moment. Breathing her in. Hands on your thighs. Pushing them wider. Spreading you so open you can feel the air hit your slick.
Youâre soaked. You know it. You can feel it, the slick sliding down into the dip of your ass, the way your folds part with every breath, your clit poking out, hot and swollen.
He just stares.
âYou fucking trained her like this,â he mutters, almost to himself. âYou really did it. Came like a good little slut every night just to keep her hungry.â
âSheâs starving,â you whisper, voice shaking.
âI can see that.â
His thumbs press into the crease of your thighs, holding you open. His face lowers. Inches away. His breath hits your folds and your hips twitch violently.
He doesnât lick you.
Not yet.
He just hovers. His nose skims your inner thigh. Then up. Right up the slick slit, dragging his breath across your folds until your body shudders. He breathes her in againâthis time slower. Longer. Right at the source.
âGod,â he mutters. âShe fucking smells like obedience.â
You sob.
And then he spits.
Right on your pussy.
Hot. Heavy. Messy.
It splashes over your clit, drips between your folds, mixes with your slick and makes everything worse.
Your hips roll. You canât stop it.
âDonât you fucking move,â he growls. âSheâs getting attention. She better stay still.â
And finallyâfinallyâhis tongue drags up your slit. A long, slow lick from hole to clit that ends with his mouth wrapped around it, sucking hard.
Your hands fly to his hair. Your spine arches off the bed.
But he pins you with one forearm across your stomach and doesnât stop.
He eats you like a man starved. Like youâve been feeding her for him. Keeping her ready. Keeping her needy. His mouth is everywhereâtongue licking up everything youâve been saving, spit and slick and mess pooling under your ass while he moans into you.
âThatâs it,â he groans against your clit. âLet me taste five fucking days of begging.â
You cry out, thighs clenching.
But he slaps your pussy with his handâsharp, wet, punishing.
âOpen.â
You go limp. You canât fight it. You donât want to.
He eats you like itâs personal. Tongue flat. Licking. Circling. Spitting again. Your clitâs too swollen, too sensitive, but he doesnât care. He mumbles into youâfilth you can barely understand because heâs too focused on devouring.
âSheâs so fucking loud. She wonât shut up. You hear that?â
You do.
Your pussy makes noise with every lickâsquelching, wet, obscene.
âI didnât even fuck her yet,â he growls. âAnd sheâs already creaming.â
You try to cum. You try.
But he pulls back just as your thighs start to shake, just as your stomach seizes.
âNope. Sheâs not getting fed all the way until Iâve felt her on my cock.â
You nod frantically, fingers gripping the sheets, desperate.
Heeseung leans back, licking his lips, chin soaked, eyes wild.
âSheâs ready,â he says. âSheâs starving.â
Heâs already got two fingers hooked inside you when he tells you to open your mouth.
Not to kiss him. Not to speak. Just to take it.
He shoves his fingers past your lipsâsoaked in your own slick, the same fingers heâs been curling deep inside your cunt, dragging against that spot that makes your eyes roll back. You gag around them, moaning as the taste floods your tongueâsalty, sour, yours. He pushes them down onto your tongue, presses hard until your spit leaks out around them and drips down your chin.
âSwallow it,â he mutters, eyes locked on your face. âThatâs what obedience tastes like.â
You do. Of course you do.
Because youâd do anything he says.
And he knows it.
He wipes the slick from your lips with his thumb, drags it down your throat, then shifts forwardâkneeling between your trembling thighs, lining himself up with your soaked entrance like heâs been waiting years for this moment.
You stare down at his cock, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip, and your whole body tenses. Youâre already open, already dripping, already fucked dumbâbut none of itâs going to prepare you for this.
âLook at her,â he mutters under his breath, dragging the head of his cock through your folds, smearing pre-cum across your clit. âSheâs fucking begging.â
âShe wants it,â you pant, voice shaking. âPleaseââ
He doesnât give you time to finish.
He presses inâslow, deep, cruel.
The stretch hits you all at once. Your back arches. Your breath leaves you in a choked gasp, and your pussy clenches hardaround him, sucking him in inch by inch like she never wants to let him go.
âOhhh, fuck,â he groans. âSheâs trained alright.â
You moan. Loud. Desperate. Writhing beneath him as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass, his cock buried all the way to the base.
Sheâs full.
Finally fucking full.
Your cunt grips him tight, fluttering around his cock like sheâs been starving for itâand she has. Every inch of him hits something you didnât know existed. Your body shakes under the pressure. Youâre soaked. Stuffed. Used. And you want more.
âSay it,â he growls. âSay what she is.â
âSheâs yours,â you gasp. âSheâs a holeâyour holeâsheâs been waiting for thisââ
He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.
You scream.
âYouâre goddamn right sheâs mine,â he snarls. âYou trained her just to take my cock.â
You nod frantically, crying now, pleasure too thick in your throat to hold back.
He starts to fuck you in earnestâhard, relentless, loud. Skin slapping skin. His cock slick from your wetness, dragging through every twitch and squeeze, pressing deep, deeper, forcing your body to stay open for him. You feel it in your stomach. Your spine. Your fucking brain.
Every thrust knocks your thoughts loose. And you want to thank him. You want to feel him. You want to taste him.
So you lift your headâtry to kiss him.
You lean up, lips parting, mouth open and begging.
He pulls back.
His hand grabs your throat, presses you flat into the mattress. You gasp, eyes wide, blinking up at him in confusion. He smiles. Cruel. Mocking.
âNo,â he says coldly. âYou donât deserve to be kissed.â
Your breath shatters.
âKisses are for good girls,â he spits. âYouâre just a trained little hole.â
Your pussy clenches around him so violently he groans.
âThatâs all you are now, isnât it?â he sneers. âA stupid little cunt that opens on command. You get used, not kissed.â
Tears spill over your cheeks.
And you cum. Just like that.
From the words. From the shame. From the humiliation.
Your pussy spasms around his cock, soaking both of you as you scream into his hand still wrapped around your throat. Your hips jerk. Your vision goes white. But he doesnât stop.
He fucks you through it, hips pounding, cock punching into your oversensitive cunt like heâs trying to reprogram you from the inside out.
âThatâs it,â he pants. âLet her milk me. Let her show me how much she needed this.â
Youâre sobbing. Gasping. Too wrecked to speak.
âFucking knew it,â he groans. âYou were never gonna be satisfied until you got split open.â
He leans down, mouth right by your ear.
âBut donât ever reach for a kiss again. Sluts like you donât get kissed.â
Youâre already limp when he flips you.
Your body gives out so easilyâshoulders pressed into the mattress, arms numb, legs trembling, hips cocked up on instinct the second he yanks you onto your stomach. His hands drag you by the waist like a ragdoll. Like something boneless, brainless, ruined. Your face is buried in the pillow. Your cheek sticks to the fabric. Youâre crying, still, but thereâs no shame left. Just the raw ache of your cunt pulsing around nothingâbecause he pulled out.
You whine, pathetic and wordless, hips rolling back into the air, leaking down your thighs.
âStill hungry?â he mutters behind you.
You nod into the pillow.
âSay it.â
âSheâs empty,â you whimper. âSheâs twitchingâshe wants you back inâsheâs not doneâsheâs never doneââ
You gasp when the head of his cock slides back in. Just the tip.
He doesnât give you the rest.
You wiggle. Cry. Press your ass back against him and moan when your folds stretch again, split open all over his length.
âYou trained her to take it,â he says. âNow youâre gonna train her to keep it.â
He presses forward.
His cock buries to the hilt in one brutal thrust, and your whole body spasms. Your hands claw at the sheets. Your cunt clenches so violently it forces a sob out of your chest, high-pitched and broken. Youâre still sensitive. Still throbbing from the last orgasm. But he doesnât care.
He starts fucking you again like he owns you.
The slap of skin echoes in the room, wet and obscene, his cock pounding into your raw pussy like sheâs just a hole to conquer. You donât even try to move anymore. Your body takes it. Open, obedient, used.
âYou like that?â he pants. âYou like being my little fucktoy?â
âYeah, you do. Youâre trained now. A good little cocksleeve who comes when sheâs told. Cries when sheâs full. Cums from being humiliated.â
âI do,â you choke out. âIâm yoursâIâm your toyâjust your fucktoyâuse meâuse herââ
âThatâs it,â he growls. âThatâs what she wanted, isnât it? Not kindness. Not kisses. Just cock. Just someone to shove it in and remind her sheâs nothing but a messy, wet little pussy.â
He thrusts harder. You scream into the sheets.
âSheâs so loud,â he snarls. âSo fucking wet. Sheâs gushing. Every time I pull out she cries.â
You donât even recognize your own voice when you cum again.
Itâs raw. Ugly. Loud.
You screamâclawing at the sheets, nails ripping fabric, your body wracked with spasms as you squirt all over his cock, wet exploding out of you in waves, soaking the bed, your stomach, your thighs. You canât stop it. You donât want to.
He fucks you through itâharder.
âLet her break,â he growls. âLet her fucking split.â
And when your body finally collapses, hips falling, spine trembling, Heeseung doesnât even slow down.
He grabs your hips, hauls you up, and drives in deep one more timeâand stays there. His cock pulses inside you. Thick. Hot. Flooding you.
You feel it. You feel his cum shoot deep, thick ropes filling your already ruined pussy until your belly aches with it.
He stays inside. Keeps you cockwarmed, plugged full, hands rubbing down your spine like this is the aftercare.
Not words. Not love. Just being kept full. Like you should be.
You barely breathe. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouthâs open. You feel him lean over you. Feel the slow drag of his lips against your ear.
âYouâre not starved anymore,â he whispers. âSheâs fed now. Finally.â
You nod. Barely. Weak. Fucked out. His cock twitches.
âSheâs still twitching,â he murmurs. âShe wants to sleep like this.â
-
You wake up to the burn in your thighs.
The stretch. The ache. That slick-dried, too-sensitive sting between your legs from being filled for hours without a break. Your skinâs flushed. Clammy. You shift slightly under the covers, still half-asleep, and you feel itâhim.
Still there. Still inside you.
You blink. Breathe. Try to make sense of your bodyâbut the pressure between your legs is still warm. Your cunt clenches instinctively, and his cock twitches in response.
A slow, deep ache spreads in your gut.
His arm is draped over your waist. His chest is pressed against your back. Heâs asleepâsoft breaths on your shoulder, jaw resting against the side of your head. And his cock is still buried to the base in your pussy. Warm. Heavy. Plugging you full like it belongs there.
But something else creeps in too.
You lie there for a moment. Silent. Still. Pussy fluttering, heartbeat slowing, and that awful little ache growing in your chest. The one that started the second he pulled away last night. The one that settled into your ribs when you reached for him and he said âYou donât deserve to be kissed.â
You swallow. You whisper it before you even think about it.
âAre you really not gonna kiss me?â
Itâs soft. Not needy. Just⊠there.
His breath shifts against your skin. His arm tightens slightly around your waist.
You almost regret asking.
Until he exhales through his nose and mutters, voice rough and low and real, âIâm still fucking inside you, you brat. You think Iâm gonna spend the whole night cockwarming my favorite pussy and not kiss her in the morning?â
You twist under him, face flushed, and turn your head over your shoulderâand his mouth is already there.
No hesitation. He kisses you hard.
Mouth slanting over yours, tongue sliding in with no patience, lips full and hot and filthy with morning breath and spit. You moan into it, deep and broken, cunt clenching around his cock again like sheâs reacting to the kiss like itâs touch.
His hand grips your jaw, thumb dragging over your cheek as he devours your mouth. He licks into you like he means itâlike youâve earned itâlike heâs been wanting to do it since before he ever called you a slut.
Youâre whimpering into his mouth when it happens.
Your lips slide against his, sticky with spit, your breath still uneven from how long you spent crying into the pillow, your cunt still fluttering weakly around his cock. He hasnât pulled out. Heâs still inside you. Still twitching, half-hard again already, thick and warm, stretching your still-leaking pussy while your body curls back into him, needy and clingy and soft in a way you didnât get to be last night.
His hand cups your jaw now. Gentle. Finally. His thumb drags along your lower lip, slow and possessive, like heâs re-learning your mouth after denying it. His tongue pushes into you with unhurried filth, and your hips shift just barely, like your cuntâs trying to pull more of him in. Like she doesnât even know how to be empty anymore.
And then you hear it.
âHeeseung?â
Itâs distant. Not loud. Sleepy. But your blood freezes.
âHeyâhave you seen Y/N?â
Evie. Sheâs awake. The breath dies in your throat.
Your eyes fly open. Heeseungâs hand freezes on your jaw. Your whole body locks. His cock is still deep inside you, softening now, but still heavy. Still leaking. You can feel him dripping down your inner thighs as your brain flips inside out with panic.
âShit,â you mouth, barely audible.
Heeseung exhales through his nose, calm, but his arm is already tightening around your waist like heâs trying to figure out his next move in real time.
âY/N?â she calls again. âWhereâd you go?â
You scramble out of the bed like youâve been shot. Legs wobbly. Pussy sore. You trip over the blanket as you reach for your discarded clothes, yanking your hoodie on over your head, trying not to scream as your shorts catch on your ankle. Youâre still soaked, your panties still twisted around your thigh from where he shoved them earlier, and you can feel his cum still inside you, wet and hot and fucking obvious.
Heeseungâs already sitting up, dragging his hoodie on, running a hand through his hair to make it look like he just woke up.
Youâre panicking. âDo I go back to her room? What do I doâwhat if sheâs in the hallwayâ?â
Heeseung stands up, grabs your shoulders, kisses your forehead onceâquick, mocking, cockyâlike this is funny to him.
âBathroom. Now.â
You sprint for it. Just as he opens his door.
His voice is casual. Sleep-rough.
âYo.â
âYou seen Y/N? I woke up and she wasnât in bed. Her stuffâs still there though.â
Heeseung stretches in the doorway, voice smooth as fucking silk.
âNah, havenât seen her. She probably went to the bathroom.â
âShe didnât text me.â
âShe probably didnât want to wake you.â
Youâre crouched in the bathroom, hands over your mouth, hoodie soaked at the hem, thighs still trembling. You glance down and see a smear of his cum on your leg, glistening in the morning light like a neon sign of guilt.
âWhatever. Tell her Iâm making pancakes.â
âWill do.â
Door shuts. Heeseung turns, leans into the bathroom, finds you crouched by the sink.
âYou owe me.â
You punch his chest.
He grabs your wrist. Kisses it.
âDonât worry,â he whispers, voice low. âYouâll pay me back tonight."
-
Itâs early.
Evieâs downstairs making coffee. You can hear the clinking of mugs, the stupid hum of whatever playlist she plays when sheâs in a good mood.
Youâre in Heeseungâs lap. Hoodie on. No underwear. His backâs against the headboard, his cock deep inside you, and youâre grinding slowlyâhips circling, cunt fluttering, hands pressed to his chest to keep yourself upright.
Youâre not allowed to bounce. Not allowed to moan.
Just slow, controlled rollsâlike youâre milking him without giving yourself away.
âYou sound like you want her to know,â he whispers against your throat.
You shake your head. Breathe through your nose. Keep moving.
âThen be quiet, baby. Or Iâll hold your mouth and your hips still, and you wonât cum at all.â
You almost cry. He grabs your ass. Tilts your hips just right.
âIf she walks in, you better keep her name off your lips while I fill you up.â
You do. Barely.
You cum with your hand clamped over your mouth, twitching around his cock like you were made for itâand Heeseung cums seconds later, low and quiet, mouth on your collarbone.
Downstairs?
Evie sings along to the chorus.
-
Itâs disgusting.
Thereâs no other word for it.
Youâre on all fours, face buried in Heeseungâs mattress, drooling, moaning, thighs trembling with every wet squelch of his fingers plunging into you from behind. His mouth is glued to your cunt, spit running down his chin, tongue working your clit in slow, sloppy laps while one hand spreads you openâand the other, lower, slick with your cum, is rubbing tight circles around your asshole.
Youâre whining his name. Filthy. Wordless. Brain-melted.
âFuck, sheâs drooling for it,â he mutters into your pussy. âShe wants both. Sheâs ready. One in her ass, two in her cuntâyou wanna be stretched like a proper little hole, huh?â
Your face is soaked. Your bodyâs trembling. Your pussy flutters around his fingers, slick squelching with every slow drag in and out. Your rim clenches, raw and wet from the friction. You try to answer, but all that comes out is a pathetic sob.
âSay it,â he growls. âSay what she wants.â
âI want it,â you gasp, voice cracking. âI want you to open my assâwanna be full, wanna cum like a fucktoyâpleaseâpleaseââ
And thenâ
âY/N?â
You hear your name like itâs being spoken through a tunnel.
You freeze.
Every muscle in your body locks.
Heeseung doesnât move.
You can feel his tongue hovering right at your clit. His finger is still circling your asshole.
And then you both look up.
In the doorway. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.
Evie.
Her face doesnât go red. It goes white. Like her blood just dropped to her feet.
She stares at your bodyâat your back arched, knees wide, your ass open, Heeseungâs hand buried between your cheeks, your best friendâs brother with his mouth on you and your spit in his beard.
And then she gags. Audibly. Violently.
Her whole body jolts forward like sheâs about to puke right there in the hallway.
âOh myâfuckingâgodââ she chokes. âWhat theâwhat the FUCKââ
She turns. Presses her palm to the wall. Leans into it. Her other hand clamps over her mouth and you see her shoulders jerk. Once. Twice. A horrible, broken sound crawls out of her throat.
âNoânoânoâno, no, noââ
Sheâs panicking.
Canât breathe. Her body is shaking so hard you think she might collapse.
âEvieââ you start, voice already wet. âEvie, pleaseâplease just listenââ
âDONâT.â
The scream hits like a slap.
âDonât talk to me. Donâtâdonât even say my fucking nameââ
Youâre sobbing now. Reaching for the blanket. Falling off the bed. Barely able to pull your hoodie down over your sticky, twitching body.
Heeseung moves. Not fast enough. Still shirtless. Still hard. His fingers still glistening.
âHeejooââ
âDONâT. CALL ME THAT.â Her voice is shrill, raw, wrecked. âYouâre my fucking brother.â
She looks at you. Like she doesnât even know you.
And then her expression cracks completely.
Her face contortsâpain, betrayal, disgust, hatredâall in one devastating collapse.
âYou were inside her,â she whispers, and her voice breaks. âYou had yourâyourâyou were licking her while you were fingering her assââ
âYouâre both fucking insane.â
You crawl toward her. Not thinking. Just begging. Your knees burn. Your hands shake.
âEvieâpleaseâplease just let me explainââ
She flinches.
Flinches.
Like your voice touched her skin. Then she goes still. Her breathing slows. Her hands drop to her sides.
She looks empty.
âDonât come near me.â
Her voice is flat now. Robotic.
âDonât talk to me. Donât look at me. Donât even fucking breathe in my direction.â
You canât speak. Canât move. She steps back.
Looks at Heeseung. Then at you.
âYouâre both dead to me.â
-
ââYou donât remember the walk home.
You donât remember grabbing your phone, or leaving the house, or what the weather was like. You donât remember how long you cried, or how many people stared, or how fucking long it took for the heat between your legs to fade into something cold and ugly. You just remember sitting on your bedroom floorâhoodie still wet between your thighs, your underwear balled up in your pocketâand trying to breathe without choking on it.
Because it doesnât stop. The image. Her face.
Evie, hand over her mouth. Evie, gagging. Evie, stepping back like you were something dirty.
She meant it. Every word.
âDonât talk to me. Donât look at me. Donât fucking breathe in my direction.â
She meant it.
You try to text her that night. You donât even know what to say. There are three different messages in your drafts: one with just her name. One that says âIâm sorry.â One that says nothing at all.
They donât send. Youâve been blocked.
He doesnât text either. You donât even know if he can.
The silence is so big it feels like a second death. You lie in bed every night with your phone face-up on your pillow, waiting for it to light up with anything. A call. A voice note. Just a name.
It never comes.
But you still feel him. In your body. In your bones.
Every time you try to sleep, your body curls like itâs expecting to be filled.
Some nights you wake up sweatingâpanting, pussy twitchingâbecause you dreamed of his voice again.
You still miss him. Even after all of it. Even after how it ended.
Even after Evieâs face broke in half at the sight of youâwet, spread open, her brotherâs finger sliding into your ass while you begged for more.
You still miss him. And thatâs the part that makes you sick.
-
Itâs been nearly two weeks since you watched Evie recoil in that doorway, hand clamped over her mouth like she was actually going to vomit.
You canât erase the memory of her faceâhow disgust bled into betrayal, how her gaze slid right past you like you didnât exist, then landed on Heeseung as if he were some twisted stranger in her own home. You tried to bury the image, tried to make it small and unimportant, but it lives in your chest now, swelling every time you breathe.
You havenât talked to either of them since. Not one word to her, not a single text to him.
Itâs as if the world paused on that moment: her voice ripping through the room, your body half-naked, his spit drying on your thighs, your stomach churning with guilt.
Now the doorbell rings, and somehow you already know whoâs on the other side.
You open it slowly, hesitation weighing on every movement of your hand.
Heeseung stands there in a wrinkled hoodie, dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He looks thinnerâlike the shape of him has caved in from the inside out. His hair is unstyled, his shoulders hunched, and the way he stares at you feels desperate.
Neither of you speak for a few seconds, the silence pressing into your lungs.
Then you break it, because you canât handle him looking at you like that. âWhy are you here?â Your voice comes out flat, echoing the numbness youâve been living in.
Heeseung swallows, gaze skittering between your face and the ground.
âI had to see you.â
The words feel like theyâre meant to fix something, but all they do is twist the knife. You give a hollow laugh, but thereâs no humor in it.
âYou already saw enough.â
He exhales shakily, bringing a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck.
âIâm not asking you to forgive me,â he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. âI know thatâs notâthereâs nothing I canââ He trails off, struggling, guilt carved into every line of his face. When he finally speaks again, his voice strains.
âYou think we havenât replayed it a hundred fucking times?â he asks. âThe door. The blanket. You moaning. MeâGodâwe were still fucking with each other right there, even when sheââ
âStop.â Your voice cracks. âDonât say it.â
âWe saw her face,â his voice keeps going, low and fast and pained. âWe saw it, and we still didnât stop, like fucking animals. I see it every time I close my eyes. I hear her say my name like I was never hers, like you were never her friend.â
You speak,
âI canât look at you without hearing her gag.â
The confession slashes the air, and his lips part like youâve slapped him.
âI canât hear your name without remembering what it felt like to be in her house, in her family, doing⊠that, while she thought I was asleep down the hall.â
For a moment, neither of you breathe. Then he forces himself to speak, voice cracking.
âI know. I fucking know, and I hate that we didnât let go even when we heard her. I hate that she looked at us like we were monsters. I hate that part of me still wanted to stay inside you, and part of you still wanted me there, when we shouldâve both stopped.â
You close your eyes, replaying Evieâs strangled gasp in your head, recalling the numb disbelief that followed when she told you not to speak, not to look, not to fucking breathe in her direction.
âI canât talk to you,â you whisper, voice trembling despite your best efforts. âI canât even hear your name without feeling sick.â
He swallows and nods, like heâs been waiting for those exact words. âIâm sorry,â he says, and he sounds like heâs about to shatter. âI wonâtâif you never want to see me again, I understand.â He drags in a breath that rattles in his chest. âI just needed to know you were⊠alive.â
For a moment, you want to ask him if heâs okay too, if heâs been eating or sleeping, if he wakes up sweating like you do. But you lock it down, because you canât afford to care right now.
âWell,â you say, and your voice is colder than you intend, ânow youâve seen me. Congratulations.â
A faint tremor passes through him, and he nods once. Thereâs nothing else. No lecture, no pleading. He just steps back, shoulders slumped, and turns away.
-
It happens in the grocery store, of all places. Youâre pushing a half-empty cart down the cereal aisle, trying not to think about how much quieter life has been since you lost your best friend and the boy you broke her heart with. Youâre scanning the shelves for something to distract you when you catch sight of a familiar figure at the other end of the row.Â
Your heart lurches, your fingers tightening on the cart handle as your stomach flips.Â
Because there, frowning at the boxes of cereal, is Evieâor Heejoo, or however she wants to be called now. You donât have time to decide whether you should turn and run or force a hollow smile. She glances up, and your eyes meet. Neither of you moves.
 The aisle feels too narrow. Her cart sits between you, an invisible barrier.
She looks differentâher hair is shorter or maybe just pulled back in a careless ponytail, dark smudges under her eyes, shoulders tense. She seems hollowed out in the same way you feel.Â
Some part of you wants to say hey or I miss you or please talk to me, but the words dissolve in your throat. Sheâs the one who steps forward first, letting her cart roll behind her. Her heels click on the tile, echoing your every heartbeat.
âHaving fun?â she asks, and it doesnât sound like a question so much as a thinly-veiled jab.
You grip the handle of your cart, mouth suddenly too dry to speak.
âEvieââ
âDonât call me that,â she snaps, eyes flicking away like the name itself stings. âYou donât get to pretend weâre okay. You donât get to act like weâre still friends.â
Her arms fold across her chest, nostrils flaring with each breath, and you feel your own pulse jump in your neck. âIâIâm sorry,â you manage, voice trembling. Itâs not enough, you know that.
She scoffs, a breathy, humorless sound. âThatâs it? Youâre sorry? You think that magically fixes everything?â She gestures sharply, and you notice how tightly sheâs clenching her fists. âYou screwed around with my brother like it was nothing, and I walked in onââ Her voice breaks, face twisting as she fights off the memory. âI was just the idiot friend who never saw it coming, right?â
Shame flares in your cheeks. You hold your ground, though it hurts to meet her eyes. âI know I betrayed you,â you say. âWeâGod, I donât even have the words for how messed up it was. We both knew better. We both let it happen.â
Her hand lifts to cut you off, shaking with the effort. âYou think itâs just that you hurt me?â Her voice wobbles between anger and heartbreak. âYou hurt him too, you realize that? He was my brother, you were my best friend, and you both blew yourselves up in front of me. Like you had no idea what it would cost.â
Your stomach knots in a way you havenât felt before. Sheâs right. It wasnât just herâit wasnât just you. It was all three of you, tangling and twisting until it snapped. âI know,â you say more quietly. âAnd weâre all paying for it. Heâs⊠heâs not okay. Iâm not okay. And youâre definitely not okay. Thereâs no part of this that isnât broken.â
She lets out a short, bitter laugh. âDo you think that helps? Hearing you say itâs broken doesnât change the fact that I canât even look at either of you without wanting to scream.â
You bow your head, voice almost inaudible. âI wish I could take it back.â
She swallows, and for a fraction of a second, the hostility in her eyes flickers with pain. âWell, you canât.â Her grip tightens on the cart handle until her knuckles whiten, and she exhales shakily.Â
âI want my brother back, you know. I want my friend back. But I donât get either of those things, because you two decided to⊠to destroy what we had.â
Your throat closes up, tears pricking at your eyes. âIâm sorry.â
She stares for another few seconds, jaw clenched as she holds herself together. Then she moves around you, snatching her cart by the handle, the wheels squeaking in protest.Â
âEnjoy the produce,â she mutters under her breath, voice dripping with bitterness as she passes.
-
It doesnât happen overnight.
 Thereâs no single conversation that wipes the slate clean, no perfect gesture that makes Evieâs betrayal vanish, no magic wand that repairs the gaping wound in your chest.Â
But over timeâslow, grudging, step by hesitant stepâyou all begin to realize that staying in this darkness is killing you. Staying strangers, orbiting the same guilt without looking one another in the eye, is worse than facing the truth. And that truth is messy, fragile, and riddled with scars.
It begins with Evie texting you, late at night, a week after the grocery store encounter.Â
Just three words: We need to talk.
You stare at the screen for a solid minute, heart pounding like itâs trying to break out of your chest.Â
Your hands shake as you reply, Yeah, okay.Â
Thatâs all. No apology, no second-guessing, just acceptance. You wait for her to say when or where, but she doesnât text back until the next afternoon, telling you to meet her at the park near her house.Â
And then she clarifies: Just you.
You show up after sunset, nerves jangling in every limb, expecting hostility, or silence, or both.Â
Instead, you find Evie sitting on a faded wooden bench under a flickering streetlight. She looks smaller than you remember, knees drawn up under her chin, arms hugging herself for warmth. As you approach, you open your mouth to say somethingâanythingâbut she holds up a hand, shaking her head.
âDonât,â she says, voice tight. âNot yet.â
You stand there, awkward and guilty, waiting for her permission to speak.
She lowers her hand and sighs, staring at a patch of dead grass near her feet. âI asked you here because⊠this is killing me,â she mutters. âBeing this angry all the time. Hating you. Hating him. I canât keep up with it. Itâs turning me into someone I donât recognize.â
Her words break something inside your chest, and your throat goes thick. You sit down on the far edge of the bench, leaving a wide space between you, unsure if youâre allowed to be any closer. âI⊠I know,â you manage, voice unsteady. âI feel it too. Itâs like Iâm rotting on the inside.â
She nods once, gaze flicking to you before sliding away again. âIâm not saying I forgive you,â she warns, and you nod, heart pounding. âIâm just saying I donât want this to be my life anymore. Thisârage. Itâs not me.â
She exhales, shoulders curling inward. âAnd I loved you. You were my best friend. And he⊠heâs my brother, and I loved him too. So how did we all end up here?â
Silence lingers. You fight back tears that threaten to spill.Â
âWe messed up,â you whisper, voice cracking. âWe both did. Me and him. We used your house, your trust, your everything for our own messed-up⊠needs, and it was stupid and selfish and we ended up shattering everything.â You swallow a lump in your throat. âI know none of that fixes it. But I swear to you, we never wanted to hurt you.â
Evie laughs bitterly, a hollow sound. âWell, you did. And I canât pretend you didnât.âÂ
Her gaze shifts to the distance, to the halo of light under the streetlamp. âBut I donât know if I can keep hating you. Or him.âÂ
She hesitates, words coming out slow. âI saw him last week. He lookedâGod, I hardly recognized him. Like a ghost of himself.â
You nod, biting back the urge to defend him or to ask a dozen questions. âHeâs⊠not doing great,â you say simply, remembering his hollow cheeks, the way his voice cracked when he said he couldnât sleep.
She wraps her arms tighter around herself, rocking slightly. âNeither are we,â she points out. âNone of us are okay. And I guess thatâs what Iâm realizing. That weâre all stuck in the same crater, staring at the same wreckage. Maybe we shouldnât be trying to fix it on our own.â
Your eyes burn with unshed tears. âWhat do you want to do?â you ask, feeling the weight of her words press into your chest.
Sheâs quiet for a long moment. Then she looks directly at you, tears shimmering at the edges of her eyes. âI want us to talk,â she says. âAll three of us. In one place. I want us to put it all on the table, no hiding, no running out. Because if thereâs any chance of moving forwardâtogether or apartâwe have to face it."
âIâll text him,â she says, voice ragged. âDonât expect miracles. But I canât do this alone.â
A teardrop escapes your lashes and slips down your cheek. âNeither can I,â you whisper. âThank you.â
She doesnât respond, just stands up and motions for you to follow.Â
-
Evieâs living room is dimly lit, and the air feels thicker than it shouldâas if everything youâve said to each other in the last hour is still hovering in the space between. Outside, itâs already dark, the muffled hum of passing cars bleeding in through the windows. Youâre all drainedâphysically, emotionallyâyet no one moves to leave. Not yet. Itâs not finished.
Evie is perched on the armchair, knees drawn close to her chest. Youâre on one end of the couch, Heeseung on the other, and thereâs still a gulf of guilt and confusion separating you. But you can feel the conversation building toward something bigger than apologies or confessions of regret.
Evie tugs at the sleeves of her sweater. She glances between you and her brother, mouth pinched tight, but her voice is gentler than before.
âIâm not pretending this is easy,â she begins, clearing her throat. âWeâve all hurt each other. I just want to know what you⊠what you both actually feel.â Her gaze settles on you, question clear in her eyes. âDo you two even care about each other beyond⊠beyond whatever it was you were doing?â
You swallow, your mouth dry. This is the moment youâve been pushing down for weeks, refusing to think about. The reason you woke up gasping sometimes, alone in your bed, missing a warmth you never should have craved in the first place. You take a shaky breath, feeling your pulse hammer in your temples.
âIââ you begin, then stop. Your voice wavers, but you force yourself to speak. âIâm in love with him.â
It comes out bare, unpolished, stripped of excuses. You feel the words echo in your chest, leaving you vulnerable. Across the room, Evieâs eyes widen for half a second, and you can see her guard tighten, just a bit.
Heeseung exhales sharply, his head snapping up. You canât bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the floor, heart pounding.
âI know,â you continue, voice trembling, âthat he might not feel the same way. I know we started this all wrong, that I messed up your trust, that I hurt youââyou glance at Evieââand maybe I donât deserve a happy ending. But I canât keep pretending I donât love him just because Iâm ashamed of how we got here.â
Evie inhales like sheâs bracing for another blow, her arms tightening around her knees.
âYouâre saying you love him, even if he doesnât love you back?â she asks, carefully, like sheâs afraid of the answer.
You let out a breath that feels like itâs been caged in your ribs for months.
âYes. Itâs not⊠itâs not his responsibility. If itâs one-sided, thatâs on me.â You glance fleetingly at Heeseung, face flushing. âI donât expect anything from him, or from you. I justââ Your voice cracks. âI needed to say it out loud.â
Silence envelops the room, charged with tension. Heeseung is staring at you, eyes wide and glossy, like youâve knocked the air from his lungs. Evie shifts, chewing on the inside of her lip.
Heeseung finally speaks, voice rough.
âYou⊠love me?â
You manage a small, trembling nod. âI do,â you say, meeting his gaze at last. âAnd if you donât love me back, thatâs okay. I know how messed up this is. Iâm ready to⊠to accept that.â
He looks startled, as if no part of him expected you to be okay with that possibility. His hands flex on his knees, knuckles blanching. Then he breathes out, shoulders sagging.
âGod,â he murmurs, shaking his head. âYouâre unbelievably stupid.â
You flinch, heart joltingâthough thereâs no real malice in his tone, only a shaky awe and raw disbelief that seems to be tying him in knots. He forces himself to meet Evieâs eyes for a flicker of a second, as if silently asking for permission to go on.
âDonât call her that,â Evie snaps, voice quivering at the edges. She fixes him with a sharp glare, arms folded tight across her chest. âI donât care how you meant itâsheâs not stupid, and you donât get to insult her in front of me.â
âShut the fuck up Evie, one second,â He turns to you, âBecause you think Iâm not in love with you? That Iâd leave you hanging with all this guilt?â
Your heart stutters, the floor tilting under you. âHeeseungâŠâ
âIâm in love with you too,â he says, and the words hang in the air with tangible weight. âI canât believe youâd be ready to walk away, believing it was one-sided. That youâd⊠accept it. God, do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you in so much pain, thinking I donât feel the same?â
A soft sound escapes your throatâsome blend of relief and shockâand tears gather at the edges of your vision. Across the room, Evie exhales shakily, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You can see the swirl of emotions crossing her features: anger, hurt, jealousy, and underneath it all, a lingering care for you both.
Heeseung scrubs a hand over his face, then looks to Evie, voice trembling.
âI love her. I know I messed up. We messed up. We never shouldâve lied. But I canât take back how I feel.â
Evie drags in a deep breath. She pushes herself up from the armchair, pacing a short line across the living room. Her head is down, hands in her hair. When she finally looks at you both, thereâs pain in her eyes, but not the same raw fury as before.
âJesus,â she mutters. âYou twoâŠâ She chews the inside of her cheek. âI hate what you did. I hate how you did it. But if you love each otherâreally love each otherâI canât tell you not to.â
 Her shoulders slump. âI want to be angry forever, but⊠seeing you like this, Iââ She presses her lips together, tears brimming, then sets her jaw. âI guess I just want us to find a way to exist without destroying each other.â
A thick silence fills the space. Your chest feels ready to burst from conflicting emotionsâgratitude, guilt, longing, terror. You look at Evie and see the ghost of the best friend you once knew, who might be willing to stand beside you again one day, even if it wonât ever be the same.
You open your mouth.
âI know it wonât be easy,â you say softly. âI donât expect you to forgive everything in one night. But maybe⊠maybe we can start moving forward?â
Evie dashes a tear off her cheek and gives a tiny nod.
âYeah,â she whispers. âMaybe.â
Heeseung watches her, watches you, then rises from the couch. He hesitates, like heâs not sure if heâs allowed to touch you. You stand up, heart pounding, and drift closer. Neither of you quite meets in the middle, leaving a careful gap where all your remorse hangs. But itâs less than before.
Evie clears her throat, hugging herself.
âI canât stay down here with you two being⊠whatever you are. I need time, okay?â
You nod quickly.
âOf course.â
Heeseung nods as well, voice soft.
âAnything you need.â
She steps back, wiping her eyes, and thereâs a hint of a weary smile ghosting across her face, like sheâs relieved but not sure how to show it.
âYou two can talk, or⊠or go, or do whatever. I justâŠâ Her breath catches. âIâm gonna go upstairs. Thatâs all I can handle right now.â
You donât stop her.
Then you turn to him, tears slipping down your cheeks, a tremulous hope fluttering in your chest. He lifts a handâtentative, like heâs scared to break youâand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your damp skin.
He exhales shakily.
âI love you,â he murmurs, the words raw with emotion. âIâm sorry for everything.â
You nod, voice catching in your throat as you rest your hand over his.
âIâm sorry too,â you whisper. âBut I love you, and maybe⊠thatâs something we can start with.â
His eyes close in something like relief, and he presses a soft, uncertain kiss to your temple. It isnât a triumphant moment, not the kind of romantic victory you mightâve once imagined. Itâs tender, laced with guilt and fear. But itâs also realâgenuine and fragile, the only piece of warmth youâve had in a long time.
-
Things shift slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. You and Heeseung start keeping your distance whenever Evieâs aroundâno subtle hand-holding, no lingering touches, certainly no sneaking off to lock yourselves behind the nearest door.Â
Itâs not that youâre ashamed of each other; itâs that you canât stand the thought of rubbing your relationship in her face. You both know youâre lucky sheâs even letting you in the same room without storming out.
So you dial it back. You let your bodies stop running the show.Â
Itâs harder than you expectâhe still sets your nerves on fire by simply looking at youâbut you remind yourself that Evieâs feelings matter, that you owe her more than just half-hearted consideration. You give her space, which means giving yourselves space too.Â
No sex. No heavy make-out sessions. No pressed-up-against-a-wall confessions. Just⊠time and gentle contact.
Heeseung seems as restless as you.Â
Sometimes, when itâs late and youâre on a phone callâwhispering so Evie wonât hear through the wallsâhe sounds downright desperate.Â
You can hear his breath catch when you say you miss him, can practically feel the tension radiating through the receiver.Â
Yet both of you agree: this is how it has to be for now. If you want Evie to believe that what you have is more than just an addiction to each otherâs bodies, you need to show her you can exist outside a bed.
So you go on dates. Real dates. Movie theaters, yes, but also bookstore trips, late-night drives to nowhere, strolling through a local fair when it rolls into town.Â
You hold hands only if youâre well away from Evieâs neighborhoodâfearful that any small sign of affection might break the thin thread of tolerance sheâs extended.Â
The first time you walk along the riverside in the evening, sipping cheap coffee from a convenience store, it hits you that youâve never really done this part before: the tentative, day-to-day romance of building a real relationship. Itâs both comforting and nerve-wracking.Â
You can feel the charge sparking under your skin every time he smiles at you, like youâre seconds away from losing your careful resolve.Â
But you donât. Neither of you wants to risk undoing the fragile progress with Evie.
And that progress is slow, but present.Â
She doesnât cringe as much when you and Heeseung enter a room together.Â
She no longer flinches if you happen to stand on the same side of the kitchen.
 Maybe sometimes she rolls her eyes, but she doesnât snap. You see the tension in her shoulders when youâre all in the same space, thoughâlike sheâs bracing for some new betrayal.Â
You canât blame her. You still offer to leave the moment you sense her discomfort rising. Surprisingly, sheâs started telling you to stay.
But the real sign that things might be healing comes one weekend night when Evie texts you, out of the blue:
Girlsâ night?
She doesnât dress it up with a cute emoji or an explanation; itâs bare bones, almost clinical. And you stare at your phone with your heart hammering, wondering if this is a test, or maybe a begrudging olive branch.Â
You answer with a shaky yes, and spend the next few hours trying not to read too much into it. You tell Heeseung youâll be hanging out with Evie, and he just smilesâwide and genuine, telling you to have fun, to text him if you need anything.
Evieâs room hasnât changed much since the night you snuck out of it to see Heeseung. The layout is the same, the posters the same, the bedspread the same. It all feels loaded with history.Â
She sits cross-legged on her bed, handing you a sodaâno alcohol tonight, no false bravado. You sense she wants you both stone-cold sober for whatever might be said.Â
Thereâs an awkward pause, and then she gestures for you to sit, too.
For a while, conversation comes in bursts: updates about random classmates, stories from her day at work, small talk about the show you both used to binge-watch together. Itâs stiff, but not hostile.Â
She picks at her blanket, and you notice how she wonât hold your gaze for too long. Yet each minute that passes without snapping or bitterness feels like a victory.
Eventually, she slides a bag of nail polish across the bed toward you. âYou, um⊠you still like doing this, right? Itâs been a while,â she mumbles, glancing at your nails.Â
Itâs such a small gesture, but it makes your throat tighten. You nod, and she exhales something that might be relief.Â
For a solid hour, the two of you paint and chatter, as if practicing how to be friends again. Her shoulders are less rigid. Youâre careful not to misstep. Neither of you mentions Heeseung.
At least not directly. But you feel his presence in the air, the unspoken pivot point around which your every interaction revolves. Itâs only when Evie finally fixes you with a long, assessing look, half-concern and half-uncertainty, that the moment arrives.
âAre you two, like⊠okay?â she asks. Her voice is laced with discomfort, but thereâs no hatred in it. âYou said no more sneaking around. But are youâhappy?â
You swallow hard, carefully blowing on your newly painted nails. âWeâre⊠doing our best,â you say. âTrying to be good for each other. Not just physically.â
She nods, lips twisting like sheâs turning over your words in her mind. âI guess⊠thatâs what I wanted to know,â she admits softly. âIt still weirds me out sometimes, but Iâd rather it matter to you than be some⊠fling.â
A wave of gratitude surges in your chest, making it hard to speak. You nod. âIt matters,â you whisper. âI swear.â
She blinks a few times, then sets her nail polish aside. The tension in her shoulders relaxes just enough that her spine curves against the headboard, more comfortable than youâve seen her in weeks. âGood,â she murmurs, tone stilted but earnest. âDonât⊠donât make me regret trying to rebuild this, okay?â
Your own shoulders slump in relief. âI wonât,â you promise. Your voice shakes with the weight of it. âAnd if I ever do, you canâand shouldâkick my ass.â
That draws a small, genuine laugh from herâa sound you havenât heard in what feels like ages. She nods, letting the humor fill the space that was once suffocating with tension. âDeal,â she says.
You stay up later than expectedâtalking about nonsense, painting your nails in mismatched colors, occasionally lapsing into awkward silences.Â
But each time, one of you breaks it before the air can go stale. By the time midnight rolls around, youâve settled into a strange new normal: not quite what you were before the betrayal, but not strangers anymore. Something between you is mending, fragile but real.
When you leave, she walks you to the front door. Itâs still weird, stepping out into the hallway where so much damage happened.Â
But Evieâs behind you, not in front, and you canât help feeling that the dynamic has changed in a way that actually might last. You glance back at her, and though she still looks tired, she doesnât look hostile or betrayed. Maybe just⊠cautious. Itâs enough.
âNight,â she says, one hand resting on the doorknob.
âNight,â you reply, voice quiet. âThanks, again.â
She nods and closes the door gently behind youâno slamming, no huffing. Just a simple, private goodbye.
 As you slip into the night, you realize youâre smiling, mind already whirring with what youâll tell Heeseung when you see him next. You catch yourself wondering if youâll meet up for another date soon. Or if youâll just call him on the way home, excitedly spilling the details of your slow but tangible progress with Evie.
-
The new place is barely furnished. A couch thatâs still covered in plastic. A mattress on the floor. Takeout containers littering the kitchen counter. The floorboards creak with every step. The windows are wide open, and there are no curtains yet. Itâs not homeânot reallyâbut itâs his.Â
And most importantly, itâs finally, blessedly, fucking private.
When he opens the door and lets you in, he doesnât kiss you right away. He just watches you step inside like youâre something heâs trying to memorize. His hands stay in the pocket of his hoodie. His jawâs tight. His eyes flicker to the bag in your hand, then to your shoes, then up your legs so slowly it makes you feel exposed even though youâre still fully dressed.
You donât say anything at first. You set the wine down on the counter. You take in the spaceâempty and echoingâbut your skinâs already buzzing. You hear the door close behind you with a soft click, and something shifts.
He clears his throat.
âI havenât kissed you yet,â he says, voice low. âNot really.â
You turn to look at him. âNo.â
Thereâs a beat.
âCan I?â
You nod.
And thatâs it. Thatâs all it takes.
His hands are on your face before you can blink, warm and rough and needing. The kiss starts soft, but only for a breath. Then it turnsâhungry, desperate, filthy. Your back hits the counter with a thud, his tongue already in your mouth, his body pressing into yours like heâs trying to crawl inside you through your lips.
You moan into him, and he groans, deep in his throat, like the sound broke whatever shred of self-control he was hanging onto.
âYou have no idea,â he pants, mouth hot against your jaw, âhow long Iâve wanted to ruin you in peace.â
Your shirtâs pulled up before you can answer, his mouth already sucking marks down your neck. His hands are everywhereâgripping your tits through your bra, unbuttoning your jeans, fingers slipping into your waistband like he owns the place. Like he owns you.
You gasp as his hand slides between your legs, cupping you through your underwear, his breath catching when he feels the heat there.
âAlready wet?â he mutters, voice ragged. âFucking knew it.â
He yanks your jeans down to your ankles, then sinks to his knees on the kitchen tile without another word. His hands push your legs apart, pulling one up to rest over his shoulder. And when his mouth presses to the soaked fabric of your panties, you cry outâsharp, helpless, needy.
âYou wore these knowing Iâd take them off with my teeth, didnât you?â he growls, dragging the fabric aside with his nose, his tongue already lapping through your folds like heâs been waiting for this for months.
You can barely breathe. One hand flies to the counter for balance, the other fists in his hair. He licks you with obscene, wet sounds, groaning into your pussy like the taste is sending him over the edge. You grind against his face shamelessly, whining when he flattens his tongue and drags it up through your slit, over and over again.
âFuck, Heeseungâpleaseââ
He pulls back just enough to spit directly on your clit. âWhat do you need, baby?â he pants, thumb spreading it around with tight, deliberate pressure. âYou want me to make you cum with my mouth like a good little whore? Is that it?â
You nod frantically, hips rocking against his hand.
âI missed this pussy,â he mutters, diving back in. âMissed how fucking loud she is.â
And she is. Your pussyâs wet, sloppy, noisy, every flick of his tongue echoing off the bare walls. You cum hard, legs shaking around his shoulders, crying out his name as your vision blurs.
But heâs not done.
He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then grabs you by the waist and turns you around, bending you over the counter.
âNo more pretending,â he growls in your ear. âNo more quiet. Youâre gonna scream for me this time.â
He pulls your panties down and spreads you open, groaning like a man unhinged.
âGod, youâre dripping. You fucking missed this too, didnât you?â
You try to answer, but heâs already stroking his cock against your folds, rubbing the head through the mess between your legs, smearing it everywhere.
âSay it,â he demands.
âYesâyes, I missed itâfuck, Heeseung, I missed your cockââ
He sinks into you in one sharp, brutal thrust, and you wail.
No condom. No pause. Just the stretch of him filling you up in one smooth, devastating stroke.
âOh my God,â he groans. âYouâre fucking swallowing me.â
Youâre moaning, writhing, drooling onto the counter. He doesnât start slow. He doesnât give you time. He fucks youârelentless, pounding, like heâs been waiting to do this since the moment you first touched him.
Your ass slaps against his thighs with every thrust. Your pussy is loud, the kind of wet, messy squelch that would embarrass you if you could think.
He slaps your ass hard, making you jolt forward. âListen to her,â he growls. âSheâs been crying for me.â
You donât stop him. You beg for more.
He grabs your arms and pulls you back onto him, using your own body to fuck you harder.
âKeep taking it,â he snarls. âBe my good little cumrag, just like you used to be.â
You scream. You scream for him.
You cum again, sobbing into the crook of your arm, your entire body trembling.
He pulls out and flips you around, lifts you up onto the counter again, and kisses you like heâs devouring you from the inside out. Your legs are trembling so hard you can barely hold them up, but he spreads them open and spits straight onto your cunt, rubbing it in with two fingers, moaning when you jolt at the sensitivity.
âWanna fuck you on the floor next,â he mutters against your lips. âWanna fuck you on the mattress, on the couch, against every wall. Wanna ruin this apartment with the sound of your pussy screaming for me.â
You grab his face, breath ragged. âThen do it.â
He throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the mattress on the floor, where he fucks you in every position heâs ever imagined. He keeps you cockdrunk and leaking. When your voice gives out, he fucks you in silence. When your legs stop working, he props them up and keeps going. And when he finally cumsâinside you, deep, claimingâhe doesnât pull out.
He just collapses on top of you, both of you drenched in sweat and slick and the aftermath of something feral.
You canât move.
You donât want to.
You just lie there, shaking, full, used, satisfied in a way that makes you dizzy.
Heeseung kisses your shoulder and whispers against your skin.
âIâm never being patient again.â
-
TL: @naurwayyyyy @ziiao @somuchdard @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @beariegyu @zzhengyu @annybah @seonhoon @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3
5K notes
·
View notes
Text

unfair!zuko| who forcibly locks your leg up and in place to put your glittery pussy in view of the mirror in front of you two , reflecting back the sight of you two lying down on the side of the bed in a cuddle position .
unfair!zuko| who you can feel is practically licking the inside of his cheek watching your already creamy pussy clenching around nothing , lips spread apart to display that throbbing clit that basically begged for some attention .
unfair!zuko| pushing inside at a agonizingly slow rate to massage your g-spot right behind your clit with his tip , and with a sudden jolt of pleasure rushing through your body that your pussy began to spray all over the sheets.
unfair!zuko| whoâs plowing that ass from the side backshots style , one hand around your neck and a few fingers hooked in your mouth. his other hand placed over your sex to hold you firm into his movements so you donât move too much .
unfair!zuko whoâs just listening to the pussy talk to him back while he goes to work inside of you , every vein , every inch of his shaft expanding you wide open as he gets harder and harder .
unfair!zuko| who loves the way your stomach looks so full of him , bulging out from underneath your skin while heâs in your guts , he so damn long and thick he goes to rub over the swollen area .
unfair!zuko| who pulls out to tap his tip around in your entrance , splashing around your juices and pressing down on your stomach when you say you feel like youâre about to pee .
unfair!zuko| who relishes in the sight of making you watch how wet and utterly miserable you get because he knows how to pleasure you so much , youâre literally dry and loose by the time he gets up to pull together his robes and goes to get a towel . he smiles at you and you just stare back at him in disbelief .
Tags:
ïżŒ
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
giving ZUKO top during an important meeting has you steadily trying to keep yourself from throwing up as he pushes your head down and never lets you get up off of it. youâre desperately trying to keep from gagging out loud and hollowing your cheeks out to the best of your ability.
he goes on and on about the aiding the water nation with its fishing industry, while simultaneously feeding his dick to you and sinking down in your throat. it burns past your gag reflex, and you almost hit your head against the long wooden table above you as hard as you yanked your head back, keeping a closed hand around him and trying to hold it all together.
you lean back forward to spit on it, pressing your plush lips on the tip before you swallowed down his entirety and gently bobbing your head. itâs borderline cock worship with the way you twist your hands and your head to pleasure him all at once. you feel yourself go drunk on the scent of his lust, rolling your eyes to the back of your head while taking him. your saliva would bubble up as you took him inside and out at a reasonable pace, urging him to cum and finish on your face.
you let yourself throat down his fucking massive dick that swelled a noticeable bit through your windpipe, engulfing everything until his tip pinned itself on the back of your mouth and pushing his balls into your mouth at the same time. of course you struggled in desperation, but you realized you need to relax in order for it all to fit. once his sex in all of its glory fit itself into your plush mouth, your tongue mingled on the underside of his balls, and your throat closing in to stimulate his length. they were so full of his kids you were made to swallow, firm and churning harder than the heartbeat in his dick.
the whole front of his pants went soaked as you gave him the sloppiest top of his life under that table, reaching down to pull your breasts out and pinch your nipples. that soft moan that came from the depths of your throat made him shudder in his seat, you twisted your nipples in the opposite direction which made you whine and roll your hips against the rough carpet on the floor. good thing it sounded mostly busy with conversation in the room otherwise you wouldâve already been caught red handed.
he pulled it from your mouth with a pop to slap his thick cum on your face, zuko then pushed his tip down your lips to pump out some more into your mouth just to let you have a good taste of something familiar. feeling a hell of a lot more cock drunk than usual, you leaned back to spit his essence all over the crevice in between your boobs, letting them hug around his shaft as you started to thrust rhythmically at a moderate pace just to fuck with him.
256 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay enough sweetness time to be horny
You've been teasing Zuko, telling him that he's gone soft on you. He used to be so relentless, so hungry for you that he'd leave you wet and full. That's why you both had so many children, though Zuko decides that maybe it has been too long since you've both fucked properly.
So Zuko has you pinned to the bed, back curved so your ass lines with his hips. Thrusting deep, one hand is at the back of your neck to hold you down, laughing as your head is lolled to the side and you're drooling. You can barely hear him over your own mind and the smack of the headboard against the wall, but you can certainly feel him up to your cervix. Salt and peppered hair falls down his shoulders where it escapes his messy bun, skin not slowing as it slaps yours.
Dilf Zuko will leave you happily bred, and Izumi terrorised with another sibling
-đž
Oh this isâŠ(đđ€)
The memories of Zuko being in his prime has left you unimaginably nostalgic lately . But you two were now just much more older than when it would go down like that . Youâd daydream while having a quiet morning with some tea, remembering how insatiable he was for your body, your soul even . Desperate to mark you as his, craving to use your body for the sake of sex . Every single encounter would go to new heights of pleasure you never knew even existed, he fucked you like you were some pretty plaything and kept going until you both passed out in exhaustion .
He would try every position in the book as long as it meant that he could be inside of you, making you cry, making you cum and squirt so much it scared you. ïżŒGrabbing your neck from the back to hook open your mouth to spit in it deliriously before going to fuck you against the door . Using his arm to hold your head in place as he beat into you from behind in the shower .
You missed it so much, because now you and him donât take sex as seriously as you two did in the past . It was just something you two did out of boredom now, and not done out of unfiltered lust, hunger, and passion .
He was in his office, working on some projects for the arrival of Republic City and Izumi, now a teenager, was currently asking him if she could join her friends at the Fire Nation shopping center over the weekend as an early birthday trip . You walked in with an innocent smile painted over your face, and once Zuko agreed to let her go she happily hugged you and skipped out of the room .
He scoffed at her excitement, joking about if you wanted to go with her too . But, thatâs not what you wanted right now . You sat down next to him without a word and started to caress his neck, trailing down to his shoulders, his chest, and back to the biceps of his arms . Zuko was slightly confused at you not saying anything so he just went along with leaning into your touch and asking âwhatâs wrongâ in a low voice .
And then it just comes out, âZuko, I missed the way you used to fuck meâŠâ so casually . You go on to explain all the things he did to make you go half insane, giving him all the explicit details in his ear while keeping a gentle hand around his neck . You comment on how heâs just so gentle and pleased with whatever you give him . Heâs not greedy anymore, heâs not rough anymore, heâs just too sweet and itâs giving you a toothache .
For a moment heâs taken aback from the sudden words despite your little innocent demeanor you had at the door, but then he does think about how he was back then . How he saw just pure ecstasy in your eyes when your were at the brink of an orgasm . He has reason because he wants to go easy on you due to how many kids you have birthed him . The trauma of pregnancy and giving birth has without a doubt changed your body irreversibly, and the last thing he wants is to hurt and treat your body any less than it needs to be treated .
But eventually he does take your words into consideration since you insisted that you could definitely take him how you used to . Now heâs pulling all the way out of you for a moment, his hand clamped down on your neck stubbornly, you babbling on about how you missed him like this through drool, watching how your pussy just sobs while his tip is teasingly pressing into your entrance .
You make a sound of desperation as he pushes back in completely this time, forcing his body weight to hold you down while he goes to work . Holding your arms pinned down on your back to keep you from touching yourself, letting his hips plow down into your ass just on the edge of animalistic . Zuko leans down to sloppily kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth which makes you squirt once more , and youâre left begging him to not pull out of your pussy since youâre so desperate for his cum like old times .
Yeah he may have slowed down on fucking you like some toy, but that doesnât mean he forgot how to .
360 notes
·
View notes
Note
do you think when zuko gets so impatient instead of tearing off your clothes off he'll somehow burn them off. . there's no way to fix any of your clothes from that so he'll have new ones made for you constantly đ«
-đ·
You know itâs hot (no pun intended) when you think about it . How impatient he gets when he wants you, that he resorts to burning your clothes off to make it faster, but heâd have to keep it to a very low state .
Say you two are making out viciously, on the way to fuck each other like some crazed animals, he heats up his hands more than usual so that he can dig through the fabric of your shirt and leave burn hole on it along with it being ripped in half . And I can tell you one thing is that his favorite part is destroying your panties . Itâs something about the tiny fabric snapping in half when he only uses a finger to melt the hip part of it . (đ€)
268 notes
·
View notes
Text
à 𧷠⧠Ë. á”á” đ đđđđđđđđđđâ đ„đđ đŠđ đ đźđąđđ đČđšđź đđĄđ«đšđźđ đĄ đąđ á°.á
à 𧷠⧠Ë. á”á” đ đđđđ đđđđ :
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ phone s*x w/ zuko ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ jealous zuko ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ orgasm denial w/ zuko ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ blue spirit mask teaser ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ jewelry 4 his eyes ) â đïž , đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ somno perv ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ pool sex ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ birthday girl ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ retired cougar scratches ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ baby convincing ) â đïž , đïž , đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ burning off clothes ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ his voice ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ his teeth ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ his fingers ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ cheating on him ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ him being obsessed/ weird ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ getting fucked on his desk ) âđïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ thigh obsession ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ sub zuko ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ high libido w/ zuko ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ s*x w/ dilf zuko ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ smut alphabet ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ hickies ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ giving zuko top during a meeting) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ honeymoon s*x w/ zuko) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ unfair zuko ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ car sex w/ zuko ) â đïž
à 𧷠⧠Ë. á”á” đ đđđđ đđđ :
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ needy ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ motorcycle sex ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ SATIVA {plug!jet} teaser ) â đïž
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ hooking up in the woods ) â đïž
à 𧷠⧠Ë. á”á” đ đđđđđ đđđđđ :
@(ËâœËïœĄâđ joey making love to you ) â đïž
Go check out Nmyphomania for more Zuko works there!
Zukoâs account because heâs kind of new! @thepeoplesfirelord
đđđđ : all of the pages in the masterlist belong to me and so does all of the works, my last few accounts have been flagged so I couldnât use those to gain much traction. Please do not republish anything on other sites, if you intend on putting a snippet of my work in an edit/making fanart of/ or recommending, please credit me. If you canât view the links you might need to look at your settings.
Also donât be afraid to join my discord server if you will! đ
https://discord.gg/cfcnesZQ
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
ËËËê° đ ê± phone sex w/ zuko
zuko canât stand to be away from his love for too long, heâd get so distracted, detached, sometimes even reclusive, opting to stay in his secluded office by himself for hours at a time. feeling a severe drop in his productivity rate since it was like a part of him was missing, a part of him that would usually keep him on track and motivated.
so once he closes up his office and makes it back to his private room as soon as the sun sinks below the horizon, he calls you and checks up on you immediately. he needed to hear your voice after a long day so that he could survive, it was as necessary as eating and drinking undoubtedly.
for a couple of nights back to back he gets insanely horny just listening to how your voice sounds, every single thing about it. he listens on how sometimes it pitches up cutely when you get all excited, when you hiccup from massaging your g spot dead with the two digits he would usually use to finger you, his ring and middle fingers. feeling the cool metal of your wedding ringâs diamond press hot up against your needy, drooling clit caused your body to roll back into it. in so deep in between those silky walls of your pussy, he feels his dick visibly jolt in his hand once you angle the phone down to give him a view between your pretty thighs.
his gaze unwavering as he watched you slide your creamy fingers up and down your messy slit leisurely not trying to come too early, tugging his own hand up and down his thick shaft at the pace you set on yourself.
âbaby could you move the camera down a bit?â
zuko didnât even process what you said before he adjusted his phone to show off his whole flushed sex to you, throwing his head back as he let his thumb press down against the head of his dick, glazed over with pre come already. so thick and long, you can only fantasize about that thing turning you out loose again like he did almost every night, and you fucking enjoyed it. his stomach clenched, leaning forward to lick a stripe up his hand and spit in it, wrapping his wet hand around it once more to make stroking himself easier.
zuko couldnât help but to groan inwardly, moving the phone to lean upright on the thick duvet and letting his left hand rest at the base of his length, using them both to twist up and down on him in opposite directions. it sounded so wet over the phone, feeling himself grow hotter and desperate in front of that camera for you, he needed to lurch forward and choke up a wad of spit out to lubricate it up even further.
âgood angi, i fuckinâ miss you. spit doesnât compare to how wet you get when im inside you.â
you let some drool spill over your bottom lip from having it open for far too long to be reasonable, it was dizzying watching him get all needy and dirty talking you, him saying how much he would rather fuck you instead of slutting himself out like this.
âi would much rather it if youâd come home and use this dick like some toy too. Whenever youâd like loveâŠâ
you gave your pussy a couple of good slaps as you started to squirt across the screen, some of it getting onto your phone, but the rest of it going onto your sheets. sticking those two middle digits inside once more to show off the milky ring of white bulging out from around the shape of your fingers. a long silent moan had you going half crazy, squeezing your soaked hand in between your legs from being overstimulated already.
âFuck, look at you so fucking wet thinking about me.â
on the other end, he tugged so hard so hard in both hands you thought it would come straight off, you can hear the pent up stress and frustration in his subtle noises and movements. he had to slow down for a second as his body visibly tensed up underneath his ministrations, he took one hand off to sink his teeth into to keep from making any more obscene noises that might alert anyone outside. his abs rolled under his fair skin, eyes lolled to the back of his head, and his heavy breathing all mingled together as humped one out through the thick spurts of his hot come for a finish went all over his abdomen.
zuko took the opportunity to look down back at the camera at last and lightly slapped his tip up on the camera, making its quality go a little blurry for a moment from his cum. he took a sharp intake of breath moving his phone away from his sex. an up-close of his face showed how just barely a sheen if sweat had formed over his forehead, sticking his strands of hair on it ever so slightly, he gave a breathy laugh licking the inside of his cheek.
âi bet you wanna watch me clean it up too huh?â
368 notes
·
View notes
Text

â°â†â [Kinktober Day 12: Exhibitionism]
Summary: He appoints his closest advisors to watch him raw dog you the night of your wedding.
Warning(s): F! Reader, exhibitionism, finger sucking, snowballing?, spit as lube, oral sex (f. receiving), full nelson, doggystyle, mouth spitting, rough sex, sloppy kissing, vaginal fingering, choking, squirting, breeding but only a lil bit, cervix kissing, public bedding ceremony, handjob (f. receiving), possessive Zuko, not proofread
WC: 2.6k+
âąđâą
Your mouths were on each other in an instant, leaving no room to waste time in front of the four political advisors in the room with the both of you. Tongues flicked out, circling the bland taste of saliva that glossed over the surfaces of pink. It was so uncomfortably hot in the room, it was hard to differentiate whether it was from you and Zuko getting busy, or if it was the intense stares from the four accompanying people inside the chamber.
Zuko licked a deep stripe up the inside of your mouth, grabbing the back of your neck to hold you still into his demanding kiss. Pressing a firm thumb against the crook of your neck, urging your head to the side, leaving hot, wet trails smacking onto the surface of porcelain skin. The way he cradled you in his arms was so dreamy it enhanced the scent of subtle arousal dancing in the air of the room.
A sudden turn in events of Zuko now bending you over the side of the mattress of the bed, growing ravenous by all passing moments of this small gathering. Leaning to hover over your form lying on the mattress below, he stared into one of the male advisorsâ eyes whilst swiftly undoing the careless knot in your robes. Your clothes were immediately snatched bare from your helpless body, leaving you to yelp in surprise at the state you were now left in, now a sight for four pairs of wildly unfamiliar eyes.
âYou all want to see me fuck her donât you?â
His suggestive voice alas cut the deathly silent interior of the room, the man in particular shifted around in his breeches, swallowing thickly at his lordâs unprecedented words. Yanking at the back of the latches that fastened your bra together, it slapped back down, leaving a fleeting sting to burn on the surface of your back. He scoffed, pushing you forward with his clothed hips to spur you on the bed completely.
Of course you still wore on your undergarments, the intimate clothing clinging to your frame so endearingly, no doubt in Zukoâs mind that the other four were growing hot in their pants over you. Yeah he could be jealous and petty all he pleased, but these perverts loved tradition and were as passionate about it as anything else. You know they would never, ever, admit how hungry they were for the scene before them to unfold further, fearing their firelordâs judgemental remarks about their dignity. Itâs obvious as the sun in the sky on a clear day, but he guessed he could be a little less, mean. Making work of his own clothes by sliding off his own deep red robes off of his broad shoulders, he seems over this whole situation already.
You situated the lower half of your body up in the air for him, assuming the position in front of him on the bed as he undressed. Now he was only covered up by his own pair of pants that contained his painfully hard sex, straining just behind his fly. Taking his index finger, he dragged down your underwear so damningly slow it irked you. Your clit was then sandwiched between his two rugged fingers, stroking steadily in up and down patterns. Zuko took in how very apparent you were when you would grow more and more wet for him, relishing everything that came out of your body by messily massaging your damp pussy then giving it a teasing slap.
âAlready? I barely even touched you.â
Those words sent shivers of embarrassment cascading down the longevity of your back. A few breathy sighs from you being rubbed down on your core in between your thighs, leaving you to run your tongue over you lips before going to bite down on the bottom one. He placed his free hand to thumb over your other entrance as he eased his hand around to prep you for his sudden intrusion. It pressed so deliciously on the resistant ring of muscles, it sent every firm press straight down to take effect below.
Small droplets strayed away from your arousal, sounds of wet suctioning from humping along the roughness of his palm urged your eyes backward, flattening out his hand nearly drove you to insanity. Your ears were filled with cotton, even delirium whining out for him to keep going or right there. Body nearly lurching from the intensity of his palm thrusting on it repeatedly, more so perfectly wiping the top of your cunt where the most nerves seemed to reside.
Zuko gave no warning, suddenly grabbing your right shoulder, pressing you down on his experienced pointer fingers without taking any mind to your tightness. Flinging your head up only to meet the heated stares from the four men that advised your husbandâs actions, a distressed noise of surprise was eased out in their direction. His fingers curled inside somehow angling accurately on the oozing spot that was the center of your pleasure. Feeling the blunt tips of his finger rutting into you with the help of his left hand levering you back into them by keeping an unwavering hold on the curve in the middle of your shoulder and neck.
Bucking back to counter the precise movements of his fingers made you squirt all over the digits and the sheets, heat flooded over the expanse of your face for growing so needy. Especially in front of the guests present in you twoâs shared chamber. Swirls, turns, and spins danced in the base of your convulsing stomach, pulling yourself impossibly tighter to embrace his knuckles within the confines of your greedy pussy. Words fell amidst the chain of incoherent moans that just wouldnât stay deep inside your chest, not even properly able to register them in the heat of the moment.
âZuko?â You gasped out, hand flying to find his hand, in an attempt to grab onto something, or some part of his body that could be found within any means of reach. Shoving in another two digits drawed out a foul keen rooted from the depths of your diaphragm. Being so full led you to fall down back forward, pressing your face flush against the crimson sheets to drool out whatever your brain could come up with. Toes curling, body jerking away and struggling from overstimulation, pleas in every type of sound possible. Goodness you were a mess underneath him, you couldnât even think to compose yourself to have some decorum, but Zuko made it so damn hard. On the crumbling edge of a worthy finish, your eyes snapped open, wild with desperation to find his hand and push him in deeper.
Zuko wasnât having it, he didnât like being rushed no matter how much you begged for something deeper or faster; he went at his own set pace. Everything he did had a reason even if he didnât directly tell you, thatâs law for everyone involved with him. Including you. He took your wrist and pinned it down on your back as a warning for moving too fast, a hum of disapproval was met with your hurried actions.
âStay. There. Donât get impatient.â
That low warning sent you over the edge, with him burying his digits down to the knuckle to make your finish bubble up and out of her more than stretched out opening. He smoothed his fingers out of you with a small suction noise from her walls bordering him inside securely, moving the four to grip the interior heat of her mouth. You sucked vigorously, lapping and savoring and cleaning every drop of yourself off of his digits longingly.
Easing himself down onto his knees to meet the sight of your gaping pussy from the earlier entry, he began to make out loudly, smacking his lips from kissing your worked lips, and fixating on sucking all of your cum from out of you. You moaned around his fingers, taking in the sweet wet sensation of his tongue hooking and retreating continuously between your folds. He welcomed it to drip from the capacity of his mouth, sliding down from either side of his strong jaw.
Groaning in a mix of adoration and satisfaction from the taste and sopping wet mess on his face, heâd drain everything from inside of you that spewed unashamedly, holding the fluid in his mouth for a moment. Before you could react to his finger being freed from your mouth, a slap landed on the bottom of your ass, startling the men across the room from the filthy spell the two of you put them under. Their hearts beat so hard they all thought itâd come right out of their chests, it was so heated in the room, the smell of sex already settling in their nose before even getting to the real part of all of this.
His eyes caught sight of your bra that was latched onto your body around your upper half after all this time, saliva-slicken hand going to lightly tug the fabric, prompting you to take the clothing item off. A pair of pretty, pedicured hands reached to teasingly undo the latches in a way thatâll test Zukoâs patience, a way to get back at him for not allowing her to be needy herself. They fondled with the back hooks, slowly coming undone for his prying eyes to watch over. The man decided to waste no time with you, ridding himself of his own pants to work towards a mutually pleasing moment.
The slightly taut clothes were removed from his body to fully reveal himself confidently to everyone in the room, and once all of the buckles on your bra were undid, he never snatched something off you faster in his life. In fact, he grabbed you by your neck to force you off of the bed on all fours and positioned his pulsating length just outside your gasping orifice.
Sucking in his cheeks to gather up all of her juices he drank in from her previously, Zuko leaned backwards to intricately spit out the substance over the surface of his cock to easily slip inside of you. Breeching past your loose and slicken up hole, he let a loud groan utter past his lips and into the thickened air of the chamberâs atmosphere. Both of your heaving breaths came together in sync as the both of your bodies met each other at an accelerating pace, every thrust punched out shared pants and curses of all sorts. Sweat trickled across the vastness of each otherâs skin, cores burning with an urgency that was unmatched and burned a heat the couple could ever understand.
Going to rest over on his forearm on one side of her body below resting all of his weight in that one arm, he made quick use of the opposing hand to strain around her neck to pull her into a discordant kiss. His mouth nearly went dry at her clenching walls cornering him in inside, Zuko could barely conjure up a petty wad of saliva to share back into her mouth just before parting away from the kiss
Holding her up by keeping a hold on the length of her neck, he shifted impatiently to shove the crest of his dick in to hit the very middle of her stomach cruelly. Your wails wantonly hurt to cry out due to the pressure of his hands on your neck, it was so much all at once you could sob. Not much air came in through your windpipe, maybe once youâd get a good intake of air to support your noises of pure rapture. It never appeared to phase him, the raunchy roll of his hips caused one of the men on the adjacent side of the room to pass out from locking his knees in place. That didnât seem to phase him either.
Nothing would ever take his gaze away from your red laden eyes, glittering up at him with a quiet beg for some type of mercy on your body. Those lips were parted screaming all of her thoughts, obscenities, his name. Like a chant, he didnât want to ever stop pleasing you, making you cry, it was his motivation to continue to be your center of ecstasy. The vibrations of her strangled whines went nowhere but straight to his dick, making him twitch violently in the midst of your body he knew best. Better than the back of his hand he knew how to read you, how to ruin you just right for the entertainment of his advisors.
âYouâreâŠ.youâre gorgeous. Youâre all mine- I-.â
He could hardly utter the praise beyond a hoarse whisper, letting your neck loose from his crazed grip. Pulling out immediately made you exhale wholly, releasing the air that rested within your throat, you took advantage of the fact that you now could take a simple breather until he decided what else to do to you.
You were gently pulled up by your elbow, leading you to the front of the bed, enhancing the firelordâs men's view over the vulgar scene unraveling in front of them. She was pulled into his lap, face barely flushed with a red present all over her body, sweat drenched and all of her naked glory. The both of them adjusted into a rather dissolute position, his length now resting once more inside of her cunt, Zuko locked her legs back with the strength of his arms all the way until they were straddling her own upper half. Her entirety was on display to the four men, the twoâs connection was undeniable and now formally presented to them.
You could barely take the situation, all of your active thoughts were drained out of you the second you started to squirt uncontrollably. The world spun dizzyingly in your head as Zuko fucked you from underneath, to spread your oozing walls all over him. A pair of soft lips you were so familiar with crashed on the side of your face and trailed down to the crook of your neck, bringing you down from the temporary high created from feeling the crest of what physical euphoria felt like.
He panted loudly at the knots pulling together tighter any time heâd throw his hips up to jolt back into her, stomach clenching hard to keep up his consistent rhythm. That jet black hair of his clung to his forehead, now damp and even mused from the work he put his body through that night.
âMine, mine, all mine. I promised to fuck her didnât I?â A rhetorical question restated to himself while his head craned back to display the compelling reddened flesh of his neck. Rough, and gritty his voice happened to be reduced down to, he virtually gave a half-assed whine from bottoming out in his movements just moments leading up to his overloading finish.
Losing yourself to the scent of sex and the renewed humidity of the room, you didnât realize you and him came at the same time, him doing it so deep, coating the surroundings of his steadily softening shaft, pushing in a few more times before lowering your aching legs down to rest. They felt like complete jelly, nothing could possibly get you to stand up from the events of your honeymoon night.
One of the advisors tried to swallow down a large lump created in his throat, going to speak up in the moment of silence. He bowed for the rest of the group of men, showing his still foregoing respect towards the Firelord and wife, the now declared Firelady.
âThe marriage process is now complete, congratulations to the newly wedded royal couple.â
âąđâą
Tags:
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
so.. hot take fix idea..
fire lord zuko would totally try to fuck you anywhere.. i mean, whoâd stop him? from the garden balconies to the throne room or even dining room and study.. itâs very evident that he loves you to everyone around and isnât afraid to let anyone else know it either.
MINORS DNI 18+
"Zuko," you chide under your breath, shying away from ZUKO's lips that brush the sensitive skin of your neck. "Compose yourself." you hushed instruction is paid no heed as he presses himself into your back, pinning you between the railing and his body.
His lowered voice washes warm breath over your ear, sending chills down your spine, "How can I? I can't keep my hands off you." It's in poor taste for the Fire Lord to express such ardent desire so publicly, the balcony overlooking the courtyard is hardly the most inconspicuous place to do it. Even through his layers of robing, you can feel a familiar prodding, and you gasp when his teeth bite into your flesh to distract you. "No one's around." he expresses as if it's encouragement instead of a thinly veiled ploy. It's part of the thrill for him.
The official dressings you wear are inaccessible, you're unsure of how he'll proceed without baring you entirely for the world to see. When his hands grab at the fabrics, bunching them up to inch them higher you reach back to catch him. "Zuko!" you whisper indignantly, glancing at him from over your shoulder. He leans in, furthering you over the balcony from his weight as he steals a grinning kiss from you.
"A quick one, my love. If anyone so much as looks in your direction I'll skin them alive." The barbaric threat is entirely to make you dissolve into giggles as a distraction, moving aside the expensive silks so he can get at what he knows is waiting for him underneath.
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Come Home to Me (2/2)
Read Part 1 here.
Pairing:Â Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader
Genre:Â Marriage AU, fluff, smut, hurt/comfort
Summary:Â Your husband notices how worried you are about him going on another raid, so he stays for a bit longer to convince you that no matter what happens in the future, he will come home to you.
Word Count:Â 8K (I wrote too many banters I'm so sorry)
Content Warnings: Semi-public sex, swearing
âBeru, take my daughter inside. I need to be with my wife. Alone.âÂ
The sudden solemnity that befell your husbandâs face and the way his voice, low and heavy, resonated in the air around you smeared goosebumps upon your skin. His tone carried a breath of possessiveness, imbuing life to the slumbering butterflies within your stomach.
âCertainly, my liege,â came the shadow soldierâs immediate response. Shortly after he performed a deep bow, Beru walked into the house with your daughter held tight in his arms, closing the front door behind him to offer you the freedom to speak what your heart truly feltâexcept you couldnât. You were scared for a thousand different reasons.
The sun had sunk low enough below the horizon for the darkness to gather, a stroke of purple hue tinging the vast orange sky, ready to wrap the stars with its velvety quilt. Jinwoo might appear nearly transcendent under the evening sun, but nothing embraced him better than the nightâs cloak, a fitting companion to a man who carried the undead within his steps. Standing before him in this quietude, you felt like you slowly returned to your old self. Abashed, nervous, losing your tongue in front of a man so handsome, he made your heart ache.
Jinwoo turned to you, his face unreadable, guarded, but there was undoubtedly a gleam of concern residing in his deep blue eyes. He took a stride toward you, his movement soundless against the marbled floor of your porch, the same way death approached those who wished to harm the only person he could call home. âWhat is it?â he began in a voice so soft, it was almost zephyr-like. His lean fingers circled your wrist like a bracelet, cool to the touch. âYouâve never looked this perturbed before. Did something happen?â
âNo,â your answerâyour lieâcame almost instantly, flawless to anyoneâs ears. âNothing happened.â Behind your clamped teeth, your mind endlessly screamed the words your tongue was itching to say, a desperate plea you tried to veil with everything you had.
Donât go, Jinwoo, please, just this one time. I have a terrible feeling about this, and I know I canât prove to you why, but itâs eating me alive. I feel it stronger today, this fear of losing you, of losing the other half of me. I know you want me to bid my farewell with a smile the way I always do, and Iâm trying my best to do it even now, but thereâs only so much I can keep to myself. I donât want to say goodbye to my husband, not knowing if it will be the last time I can see his face. So, please⊠Please stay⊠Donât leave me. Donât go. I donât know what Iâd do without you.
Although these thoughts remained unspoken, in Jinwooâs eyes, they manifested vividly on your face. But he wished to hear them directly, to see them flow past your lips, so he could capture each sentence and turn them into words of comfort.Â
âSweetheart,â he repeated, his voice tender yet authoritative at the same time. âDonât make me leave you like this. Donât make me worry about you more than I already do. Tell me. Tell me so I can help.â
Heâs right, you thought. Keeping this from him will only make him worry. He canât afford to get distracted, not now. But when you still kept your lips pressed tight, trying to collect the words, his two fingers framed your chin, leaving you with no choice but to meet his scrutinizing stare.Â
He seemed upset. No, more than that, he looked⊠angry.
The air seemed to shimmer around him as his emotions slowly climbed to the surface, his gaze darkening as his desire to protect you gripped him like a vice. âDid someone hurt you?â Jinwoo questioned you, his voice a deep rumble, crossing through the nearly infinitesimal space between your lips and his like an impending storm.Â
You fidgeted. âN-noââ
He tilted your face higher, not letting you break free from his gaze. âI would be able to tell in a heartbeat if someone laid a hand on you, but if there was something that I didnât know, some clues that I missed, someone who made you feel even slightly unsafe.â His eyes began to gleam; the shadows beneath his feet trembled in fear in the presence of his restrained rage. âI want their names. Now.â
You gulped. This side of him never failed to make shivers crawl down your spine. Jinwoo had always been so gentle and loving with you that it was easy to forget just how vicious and merciless he could be when his protectiveness over you took form. Your husband had killed for your sake before, more than you could possibly count, and heâd take another hundred lives within a blink of your eyes should you ask him to.Â
As you released your shuddering breath, you twined your fingers around his wrist. âNo.â You tilted your head to the side just enough for your lips to press a soothing kiss against the blue and red rivers of veins under his pasty skin. âItâs not like that. No threats, nothing. Iâm safe.â
Relief washed over him, albeit only faintly. âWhat is it, then?â
You tarried, trying to mince your phrases as best as you could. âI know you can handle anything,â you only began, yet your voice was already cracking with emotions. âI know that, and I believe in your strength. But I saw you, Jinwoo, just like everybody else. I saw the way your enemy stabbed your heart and tore open your chest. You survived. By some miracle, you did. But the sight of it⊠It haunts me."
You took a breath before you continued. "I find it impossible to sleep at night when youâre not next to me. My mind keeps drifting back to you no matter what I do, wondering if you were fighting for your life again, trapped in a battle you couldnât win. Sometimes I look at you andâŠâ You laid your hand above his beating heart, your fingers tracing over it as your eyes grew vacant. âI remember the way the beastâs claws pierced through your chest, right here, all five of them. Your body may have healed, and there are no traces of those wounds left on your skin, not even a scar, but⊠I can still see them. Iâm still scared of them. And I canât help but think⊠What if it happens again? What if your luck runs out this time?â
Jinwoo continued to stay mute, listening to you intently as if you were the only voice in the universe. He only reacted once quivers ran through your fingertips, seizing your hand and pressing it harder against his chest, as if to remind you that beneath those translucent scars, his heart still remained the sameâstill alive, beating, racing, because of you, only for you.
You curled your fingers, still couldnât wash away the dread. âI know you canât change who you are,â you continued, your voice laced with tears. âAnd I know you have no other options but to do your duty, which is why I always try my best not to stop you from leaving. But today, for some reason, I feel anxious. It almost feels the same as how I felt on the day I almost lost you. Itâs probably nothing, but⊠Right now, itâs suffocating me.â
The tension was palpable between you, leaving you to ponder whether you had spoken too much. Perhaps it wouldâve been wiser for you not to speak at all. You blinked back your tears, wiping the ones that already crossed the edges with the heel of your palm. You felt mortified for baring your feelings out in the open, for being so theatrical about it.Â
âIâm sorry. Iâm being so dramatic, arenât I?â You forced out a laugh; the desire to flee the scene was almost too tempting to refuse. It didnât help that he hadnât spoken a word, leaving you shrouded by your own perception of his feelings. Have you upset him? Troubled him? Or maybe even hurt him in some way? Just the thought of it brought more fresh tears to emerge in your eyes.Â
âIââ You cast your face to the side. âI should go check on our babyââ
Your husband caught you by your wrist, stopping you before you could escape, his touch firm but far from painful. His eyes were hidden underneath the curtain of his raven strands, but the way he pressed his lips so tautly together, enough for them to grow white, clearly indicated how much he took your words seriously.
âIâm scared, too.âÂ
His confession, spoken barely above a whisper, left you stunned. Out of all the things you thought heâd say at this moment, that was never one of them.
You pivoted around to face him. âJin⊠woo..?â
It took him a moment to compose his words as if he lacked the bravery to come clean, to showcase his vulnerability. It was as if he had spent an eternity trying to keep these words all to himself, fighting back all the intentions to reveal this frail side of him to you, afraid of how youâd react, if heâd sadden you with it.
âIâm terrified, Sweetheart,â he repeated, quiet, almost breathlessly. âNot of death, but leaving you.â The lines of his face were strained, filled with consternation. âI know how it feels to lose those important to me. No matter how strong I get, no matter how hard I try, I still canât protect everyone. Iâve lost my friends in battles. Iâve lost my father. And I nearly lost my mother and my sister, too. I know exactly how it feels, and it haunts me every day more than you could imagine.âÂ
His face twisted in sadness, almost in agony at the recollection of the precious lives that slipped through his hands, but that amount of pain felt small in comparison to how he felt when he added, âBut youâŠâ His fingertips trailed an invisible path down your cheek. âYou and our daughter⊠Youâre beyond that. Youâre not just my family; youâre fragments of me. The hardest part of my mission is never about dealing with my enemies. Itâs this moment right here, right now, bidding you goodbye and watching you smile back at me with your heart breaking in your eyes, thinking that youâd never get to see me again. Youâre constantly on my mind, Sweetheart, every second of every day. And I always worry that something will happen to you while Iâm gone. That you wonât be here to meet me at the door when I come home. That Iâd be too late, and I wouldnât be able to find you, to save you, even if I searched the whole world for you.âÂ
His throat felt parched, his voice so close to shattering. âWith my power, no matter where you are, no matter how far you are from me, I can run back to you the moment I sense danger around you, but it will take me a second, and a second could change everything. You saw what happened with Jinah, didnât you? I managed to save her right on time, but if I had arrived only a second later, I wouldâve lost her. And if I⊠If you were in the same position⊠And I was a second too late on my way back to you⊠If I lost you foreverâŠâ He took one last step toward you, and he crumbled, his body sinking forward, his head falling to your shoulder. âI wouldnât know how to live my life anymoreâŠâ A shaky breath escaped him. âNot without youâŠâ
The amount of fear that radiated through his body was almost appalling. It was hard to believe someone so strong could tremble like this at the thought of losing you.
Jinwoo lifted his head, gathering your face in his hands, his eyes carrying the weight of a broken man. âI know itâs hard for you to watch me leaveâŠâ He pressed your foreheads together, his eyes closed in the sliver of bliss from being so close to you, but his eyebrows remained furrowed, tense from the pain and the horror of being separated from the other half of his soul. âAnd I will never make light of your feelings, but you also need to know just how unbearable it is for me to walk away from youâŠâÂ
You squeezed your teeth together behind your lips, your vision blurred by your tears. You could only offer a shaky nod in response, afraid youâd be sobbing if you let a word slip out of you.
âIt tears me apart just to kiss you goodbye, Sweetheart.â He returned the small distance between you, gently brushing your tears away with his thumb. âEvery single time I leave, itâs like cutting off a piece of me, and you donât know how much, just how much I want to stay and be with you right nowâto spend every second of my life with you, so I can stop you from looking at me with those eyes. So I can put your heart at ease.â He lifted your face just enough to meet your crystalline eyes. âDonât ever think I want to choose my duty over you. You are always, always, the most important thing in my life.â
It was the first time you saw him so fragile, so exposed, and you could feel just how much your presence in his life affected him. You were his weakness, his only weakness.Â
You quickly collected yourself, desperate to assure him. âI knowâŠâ Speaking in your softest voice, you reached out to touch him, to cup his cheek, to do anything you could to soothe him even when you, yourself, were so close to breaking. âI know how much you care about meâabout usâand Iâm happy, Jinwoo. You donât know how glad I am to have a husband like you. So strongâ âyou brushed a featherlight kiss on his cheekââyet, so kindââon his jawlineââand so, so gentle.â You planted the last one on his lips, as soft and tender as how you whispered his name. âAnd yes, of course, I understand how hard it is for you. This is why I didnât want to say anything at first. I didnât want to make you feel this way. I didnât want to make you worry more than you already did. And IâmâŠâ You caressed his cheekbone with your thumb. âIâm sorry for speaking my thoughts out loud just now. I shouldnât have said anything, at least not now when youâre about to leave.â
He let out a sigh under your comforting touch, almost yearning. Covering your hand with his own, he sank his face further into your palm like a child leaning to his motherâs touch. âNo, donât be sorry,â he shook his head, his lids shutting at the feeling of your warmth seeping into his pores. âIâm glad you could be honest with me. Thank you. I can breathe easy now, knowing that youâre safe.â
When he stared down at you, your smile for him was the softest, the sweetest it had ever been. It reminded him almost of his motherâs, the way it carried so much love, affection, adoration, and, most importantly, appreciation. As someone who held nearly limitless power, the constant efforts he made to save the world were never overlooked. Still, more often than not, people chose not to express their gratitude, saying he was merely doing his job as an S-Rank Hunter, taking everything he did for granted. You had seen just how cruel the public voice could be when they spoke ill of him, not long after the Jeju Raid ended.
Hunter Min Byung-Guâs life couldâve been saved if Sung Jinwoo had appeared sooner! Yeah, where the hell was he anyway? Why didnât he join the raid from the start? Was he scared? Hey, hey, I heard he refused to join the raid at first. Does he not realize his responsibility as an S-Rank Hunter? Embarrassing, right? S-Rank Hunters are supposed to be selfless heroes! Sung Jinwoo is not one of them!
Your husband never let these derisions get to him, but they got to you. It pained you, angered you to see these words spreading online like wildfire, but you couldnât do much to change their opinions, and even if you could, it wouldnât have mattered. Jinwoo never cared about them. He cared about you, about what you think of him, and fortunately for him, you were always there to appreciate every little thing he did. He didnât have to save the world to impress you. You were already grateful for his presence, even just by seeing him plant a little kiss on your daughterâs head.Â
âThank you, Jinwoo,â you softly said, âfor making the world a better place for me and our daughter to live in. But more than that, thank you for all the efforts you made as my husband and as the father of our child. For making time for us even when you were losing sleep, drained after all the raids. Iâm sure your baby is grateful, too, for all the tea parties you had with her.â
He laughed a little, still carrying a hint of melancholy. âShe can be quite demanding sometimes.â
âYes, she can, but youâre always patient with her, and I adore you for that.â You stroked his cheek. âYouâre a hero to us in more ways than one. Youâre everything we want youâneed you to be, and for that, Iâll always be grateful to you.â
His jaws clasped together like a floodgate, preventing his emotions from bursting beyond control. He nodded once, a bit bashful but visibly delighted by your lines. With a quiet giggle, you kissed the tip of his nose. âWhat, getting shy now?â
He responded with a chuckle, pretty roses blooming in his cheeks. âNo, Iâm just happy. You always know what to say to lift the weight off my shoulders. And I wish I could say something to ease your mind, too, butâŠâ He broke away from your touch, returning your gaze. âI donât know what the future holds for me. I can lie to you and tell you that nothing could harm me, but I know you wouldnât want that. So, all I can offer you right now is my promise.â He brought your hand closer to his face, his lips engraving the words directly to the bumps of your knuckles. âI promise that I will do anything, everything within my power, to come home to you.â
Your heart still splintered, but it wasnât nearly as agonizing anymore. Perhaps it was all due to his vow. Or maybe youâve learned how to withstand the pain, to welcome it as a part of you, knowing it was something you couldnât chase away, something that would only be repeated in the future. âJinwooââ
A pair of soft lips captured your own, your face held, your words stolen. The sudden kiss was chaste, almost innocent, just pure romance beneath the bitterness of a farewell. Jinwoo pulled away but only barely, the tip of his nose still grazing your cheek.Â
âI love you,â he whispered, his warm breath, sweet and intoxicating, fanning your lips. âI love you so much, Sweetheart, more than I could bear.â
You looked up at him, your heartbeat roaring in your ears. âI love you, too.âÂ
Another kiss, another soft touch from a man youâd sworn to love unconditionally. But the gentleness of your colliding lips, the innocence of it, could never last long, always replaced by something more arduous. A hint of his longing for you, his craving, showed in the way he molded your lips beneath his, and within seconds, his kiss turned deep, controlling, consuming. His arm slithered around your waist, pressing your body close against him, tight enough for you to wonder if you could just melt into him, be a part of him. Perhaps then, you could be wherever he was. A world where you donât have to bid him goodbye⊠Wouldnât that be wonderful?
His breathing turned uneven by the time he ended the kiss, enthralled and far from satisfied. And just like him, you couldnât do much but stare at the shape of his pretty mouth in your haze.
âYou asked me if Iâd let the world burn for you.â His voice turned raspy, hoarse with need, his eyes watching the way his thumb glided over your slicked lips. He pressed down on your bottom one, and you parted your mouth in response, an act so natural, it made his gaze heavy with lust. âIâd do it,â he said, stealing your breath with it. âIâd watch the world burn to the ground just to be with you for a second longer. All you need to do is say the words.â
Your eyes turned round, your heart thrashing inside your ribcages. You could see the conviction in his eyes, giving you as much joy as the fear that dawned upon you.Â
The safety of the world did not lie in Sung Jinwooâs hands. It was in yours.Â
Your ardent love, intense and overflowing, rushed to your hands, crumpling the front of his coat as you brought him back to you for another taste of his lips. You pulled your husband down to you, to where he belonged, to where he should stay, your mouth meeting his in a searing kiss. You were the gravity that pulled him in, the spark of fire to reignite the flames within him. And you wanted to kiss him forever, to have his hands on your body, to be close enough for you toâ
Jinwoo suddenly stiffened in your arms, breaking off the kiss so abruptly that it left your mind reeling for a second. A frown sketched over the lines in his forehead, irritation glinting in his eyes.Â
Your heart plummeted, unsure of what you did wrong. âW-what is it?â
âNothing,â he sighed exasperatedly, massaging the bridge of his nose. âI just heard Igris talking in my ear, reminding me of my schedule. What time is it now?â He lifted his wrist, glancing at the silver watch. âDamn it.â He clicked his tongue; his vexation doubled. âI guess I really have to go.â But his eyes, like always, found their way home to you, and he took you in once more, this breathtaking view of you with your face flushed, your lips all red and bruised and glistening with his spit. âAnd itâs probably better if I leave now before I get, ummâŠâ He noticeably swallowed, trying to rein in the desire to take you here against the wall. âCarried away.â
With flames kissing your cheeks, you tossed your stare to the floor. âY-Youâre right. Sorry.â
ââSorry?ââ Jinwoo tittered, the sound soft and wonderful in your ears. Lifting your face by the chin, he tilted his head slightly to the side, adoring you. âIt was my pleasure, Sweetheart.â
His smirk, his voice⊠He seemed so effortlessly sexy when he said it that it turned you sheepish. You removed yourself from him. âS-so, umm⊠When will you be back again exactly?â
âSix days from now. A week, maybe.â
Your shoulders sagged. He couldâve said six years, and it would probably sound just as torturous. âOkayâŠâ
âCome on, baby,â he smiled softly despite his heart breaking just the same. âDonât be like this.â He rubbed his knuckles against your cheek before he poked you lightly with his finger, making you giggle from it. âIâll make it up to you once I get home, okay? Anything you want me to doâanything at allâIâll do it.â
âAnything?â
His previously impish smile fully morphed into a devilish grin. âAnything.â
âHopefully, itâs not something sexual,â you narrowed your eyes playfully at him.
âHopefully, it is.â His chuckles didn't last long, followed shortly by a heavy sigh. âCan I hug my wife one last time?â
You stilled, your breath caught in your throat. âItâs not the last time.âÂ
He blinked before he understood his mistake, sadness coating the soft bow of his lips once he did. âSorry. Poor choice of words.â He spread his arms wide, waiting for you to return to his warmth with the softest smile on his face. âI mean, can I hug you one more time before I go? And touch you endlessly once I get home?â
Contentment suffused you at once, and you answered him by carving the shape of your smile against his lips, your fingers coiled against the front of his coat. You made sure to keep your kiss light, not wanting to repeat the same mistake of drowning in desire. You werenât sure you could escape it should it happen again. But even so, when you parted from him, you couldnât deny the tension between you. Like magnets, you were drawn together. Just the slightest brush of your skin meeting his could turn it into a force beyond your control.
You tried to distract himâor rather, yourself. âH-hey, you said Igris talked to you before. Does that mean he⊠saw what we were doing?â This was the first time it happened, as Jinwoo had always been careful in the past not to let his shadow soldiers witness your intimate acts. Whenever you two were together, your husband would always command his army to shut down all their senses for a moment, to give you the privacy you needed. You werenât sure why Igris could see you now, but the thought horrified you. âIâve always been awkward with him because he doesnât talk much and seems so⊠noble. If he saw us kissing like that, I⊠I donât think I could face him again. Especially afterâŠâ You kept on rambling, driven out of shame, submerged at the thought of seeing the dark knight again after he witnessed everything that happened between you and his master.
Unbeknownst to you, Jinwooâs eyes darkened, completely lost in the view. Seeing you like this, standing so small and fidgety before him, looking so flustered that you couldnât handle meeting his eyes when you spokeâ
God, I want to ruin her.Â
I want to make her all mine again.Â
His nails scraped against his palm as he tried to find restraint, his throat burning with the desire to claim you, to taste you, to drink everything you give him. You were asking him a question, werenât you? Something about Igris. Fuck, he couldnât remember it. He couldnât pay attention to any of the lines you said, watching how your mouth shaped the words but not registering them. Your voice was a whisper in his ear, easily drowned by the filthy thoughts that grew even more vehemently with each second passing by.
âHoney?â
At your call, he averted his gaze. One more second looking at you, and he wouldâve succumbed to his needs. âHmm?â
âI asked you if Igris saw us.â
âHuh? Oh, right. Yes, they saw it.â
âWaitâThey?â
âYeah, the entire army, basically.â Though he wanted to seem apologetic, his grin betrayed him. âI was too absorbed with you that I forgot to tell them to close their eyes.â
You gaped, colors draining fast from your face. âJinwoo! â
He laughed quietly at your reaction, catching the little punches you threw to his chest. âBaby, relax. So what if they saw us kissing? Youâre my love.â
Your stomach somersaulted at the word he chose. He couldâve just said my wife instead of my love. It would've been easier for your heart. âWell, I donât want them to see thatâŠâ Another pout, another wild urge he had to chase away before he bruised your lips with his own. You exhaled. For some reason, you felt exhausted. âThough itâs⊠sweet how Igris tried to keep you from running late. That shouldâve been my job. Did he just pop up, tell you to go, and then disappear again?â The vision of it looked funny in your head because surely, he mustâve been embarrassed seeing us like that, right?
âActually, he told me to stay.â Your husband wound his arms around your waist, drawing you closer before he rested them on your curves. âHe said that I should just send him there and let him take care of the gate for me. So I can be here with my queen.â
ââYour queen?ââ You repeated, couldnât help but feel amused even though you were touched by how caring the dark knight was to your family.
Scarlet tinged his cheek. âHis words, not mine.â
âI see. So, Iâm not your queen, then?â
The shade deepened as he tossed his face to the side. âOfââhe cleared his throat, his voice reducing to a mumbleââOf course, you are.â
You giggled, and your husband softened into another smile, staring at you affectionately. He seemed glad that youâd rediscovered the strength to throw a jest or two.Â
âWell, as much as I donât wish for my king to go,â you dawdled with your words, building expectations as you glided one hand up his chest. You could feel the ridges of his lean, taut muscles underneath his shirt. A wave of desire pooled inside your stomach, threatening to resurface if you werenât being careful. âThe world needs him. Even if I keep you to myself now, youâre bound to leave for another mission sooner or later. Iâve come to realize thatâŠâ You paused to gain control of your emotions, your hands fixing his collar in your attempt to seek distraction. âThe best way to deal with this is by getting myself used to it. Get used to this feeling that you leave me when you kiss me goodbye. I have to teach myself to be patient, as it will only be a matter of time before my husband returns. I think thatâs what I have to do,â you smiled at him, shy amidst the mischievousness that you previously displayed. âAs your queen.â
His heart thawed at your lines, cradling you close enough by the shoulders to bury his face in your hair, breathing in your scent, memorizing it so he could recall this sense of peace you gave him when he was miles away from you. Even without words, you could tell just how proud he was of you. âThank you,â he murmured against your temple. He kept you this way for a moment, his nose nuzzling against your strands until he remembered how time would never be merciful to him. âI really have to go, babyâŠâ
âI knowâŠâ
But when he pulled away, he couldnât find the strength to detach his gaze from you, caught in a conflict between his feelings and his responsibility. âIâll beâŠââhe traced your cheek, his gaze falling to your lipsââback soon, okayâŠ?â
You nibbled at the corner of your lip, causing him to nearly groan at the sight. You didnât mean to entice him; you were just nervous under his hooded gaze, your body brimming with anticipation. You knew he wanted another kiss, another touch, and you wanted thousands of them, butâ âOkayâŠâ
Jinwoo moved closer, as close as he could be, his face hovering merely a few inches from yours. Nothing but desire resided in his eyes, his voice low and husky when he spoke, âDonât miss me too muchâŠâ
It was like the air crackled between you, invisible hands drawing you together. Your fingers twined a little tighter around the front of his coat, itching to tug him down and erase the millimeters of space separating your lips. âIâll tryâŠâ You replied with shivers in your breath, and in a moment of weakness, your gaze cascaded to his lips.
And seeing that, he snapped.
All shadows. Leave us. Now.
âJinâmmph!â You were pushed back against the wall, your body lifted to your toes, and your lips devoured. He couldnât do it. Whatever battle he was fighting inside, he lost it the moment he realized you wanted him just the same, and he didnât care. You were still his prize to claim, your taste was his to consume, your warmth was his to take, and he drowned in you almost instantly, his fingers possessively grabbing your face, leaving you with no choice but to accept his kiss, to accept whatever it was he planned to give you.Â
Without wasting a second, he wedged his knee between your legs, parting them open and having his thigh pressed firmly against your core. You gasped against his mouth, your body clinging onto him, shuddering at the thrilling sensation. âJ-Jinwooââ
âI know,â he replied shortly, almost in a growl, breathless against your mouth. âI need you, too, so justââ He pressed your body tight against him, his lips placed upon yours again with such urgency as if being separated from you for merely a second deprived him of all the oxygen he needed.
The last thread of restraint in your head forced you to place your hands on his chest. Despite your aching need to rub yourself against his thigh, you voiced your thoughts aloud between lustful kisses. âWaitâwe shouldnâtâmmphââ
With a grunt, he removed your hands from him, pinning them against the wall as he ceaselessly devoured your mouth. He kept you that way, trapped and caged within his hold. âY-you have to go,â you managed to whimper out, your body tensing as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down your throat.
Jinwoo finally broke away, his face flushed, painted over with nothing but ardor. âWant me to stop?â
Your heart thrashed wildly inside your chest. The huskiness in his voice, the way his breathing turned heavy at the sight of youâwhat women would say no?
âCome here.â You pulled him back to you, begged him for another kiss, a wish that he was so eager to comply. Struggling to match his pace, you found yourself clawing at the back of his trench coat, one of your legs hooking around his thigh as he pushed your dress up to your stomach, revealing more soft skin and supple flesh for him to grip and sink his nails into. He grunted against your neck, a string of expletives among sinful praises, and you shut your eyes, head thrown back at the thrill of having him act so needy, so desperate for you.Â
You couldnât care about anything, not anymore, but your memory recalled the sour look he made when he checked on his watch a moment ago. How much time do we have until he really needs to go? âJinwooâahââ You felt his teeth grinding not so gently against your skin, marking you as if he wanted to leave something for you to remember him by, to ache for in your wake. âW-what time should you be leavingââ
His fingers circled your throat, holding you dominantly in his grip. âTen minutes ago. Open your mouth.â
He deepened the kiss as soon as you parted your lips for him, moaning at the burst of your taste on his tongue. You welcomed his taste with a gasp, your hands now crawling up his nape, his hair, making a nest out of his strands the same way he made a mess out of you. His tongue delved inside, begging for a sliver of your sweetness, but you wanted to give him everything, and you did, your tongue sliding against his own, kissing him as if this was your last time to remember just how amazing he felt against you, lips to lips, tongue to tongue, body to body. All the fear you had over his departure, all the love you held for him, they dissolved into one, into this burning ache that permeated your core, the need to have him close.
And God, you wanted more, wanted him so badly, it felt like torture.
âFuck,â Jinwoo groaned, followed quickly by a low moan of your name. He was really trying to hold back, to only settle down for a kiss or two, butâ âWhy do you have to be so goddamn irresistible all the time?â
He was suffering just the same, one hand slamming against the door to maintain his distance, to keep him away from crushing you, from becoming one with you. It balled into a fist, evidence of what was left of his self-control; his fingers clenched so tightly that it painted his knuckles white and his palm crimson. His other arm snaked around your waist as his mouth sucked bruises on your collarbone, his nails clawing against the fabric of your dress, eager to tear it apart right then, right there. Rough, sinful noises continued to stream past his lips as you brought your lower half even closer to him, the sound low and deep; it was almost primal.Â
âNgh, baby, pleaseââ He pleaded with his eyebrows sewn together, his jaw slackening at the sensation of you pushing your hips back, grinding on him. You could feel just how hard he was beneath his pants, the contour of his cock nudging deliciously against your clothed heat. It excited you, your heart swelling in satisfaction at how fast you could turn the most powerful man in the world into a desperate lover with only a few touches. Only you had this power over him, and he made sure to worship you for it.
His body reacted instinctively, rocking his hips against yours, quickly taking over control. Somewhere in the labyrinth of your mind, a voice reminded you to stop, heâs already late as it is, and you canât do this here, not outside, not for everyoneâs eyes to see, but when Jinwoo caught your earlobe between his teeth, his voice dangerous and guttural when he said, âGod, Sweetheart, you donât know how much I want to be inside you right now,â all you could think wasâ
Yes, please.
You smashed your lips against his, your fingers tugging hard at the roots of his hair, robbing another shameless moan out of him. He welcomed your burning passion, reciprocating it by doubling the intensity. None of you gave a damn where you were or what time it was; none of it mattered, not anymore. You just needed him, and he needed you. Not just want. Need.
Jinwoo unclasped his belt with one hand while keeping hold of your face with the other; his movements rushed, lacking the usual grace that he normally exuded. You were sure he didnât mean to tear your lingerie apart, but even if he did, it wouldâve only added more fuel to the shimmering flames inside you. Now that your bottom half was bare and exposed, he took himself out of his confinement, holding his length in one hand, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he rubbed his tip against your protruding clit.
You shivered, your hips swaying on their own, begging him to just ram it inside. âJinwoo, please.â
âYouâre gonna make me lose my mind,â he growled, lifting your body higher on the wall, making you hold on to nothing but him to fight back gravity. âArms around my neck,â he commanded, his mouth hot against your jawline. His coat slid off his shoulders as he positioned himself over your entrance, pooling around his elbows.
But then, Jinwoo slowed down amidst the heat of your passion, just for a moment. Even as his desire consumed him from within, your consent remained a top priority. He needed to make sure that he wasnât hurting you or, worse, doing anything you didnât want him to. Your husband took a second to look at you, wanting you to give your permission out loud even when all his heightened senses and perceptions had found their answer a while ago. âCan I have you?â
Your reply came in the shape of you carding your fingers through his locks again, your mouth colliding with his as you spread your legs a little wider. âYes,â you breathed out. âI need you, pleaseâoh!âÂ
You felt him pushing himself inside the second your plea left your mouth, stretching all of your walls at once.Â
âAh, fuck,â Jinwoo groaned deep and loud, slamming one hand against the wall, the vein in his neck popping from beneath his pale skin. His reaction was almost as if heâd never experienced such pleasure before, his body trembling at the feeling of your heat tightening around him, so drenched inside that you could take himâhis everythingâall in one go. âGod, you feel so good.â He locked your lips together again, moaning at the feeling of being shrouded by your warmth. He moved his hips tentatively to ensure your comfort, but he surrendered immediately after the first try. âSorry, Sweetheart, I donât think I canânghâhold backââÂ
He began to move, his teeth nibbling on the skin of your shoulder to contain his grunts, his hips thrusting fast and rough, sliding himself in and out of you in the desperation of a heated beast seeking a release. Just like him, you were feeling it much more than anything youâd ever done with him. Maybe it was the place, the sensation of doing something so indecent, so out in the open. Maybe it was because you were both trying so desperately to comfort yourselves, to forget your upcoming separation, even only for a moment. Or maybe it was simply because you loved him so ardently, the same way he did about you.Â
Now that the sun had sunk entirely below the horizon, the night was nearly pitch black. No stars were in sight, as if they grew too shy to witness something so obscene. Detecting the darkness around you, the lights around the house switched on automatically, illuminating the entryway and the lush garden around you with a warm, romantic glow. The magical view of the scenery usually brought a sense of serenity to your heart, but no, not that night. Not when you were stuck in a very compromising position with your husband. The worst one of all was the three pendant lights shining brightly above you, dangling from your high ceilings, exposing the way your bodies rocked together in rapid, rhythmless motions for the whole world to see.
You couldnât help but be distracted by them, your body tensing. If anyone were passing by, with the way your husband had you pinned against the wall, your heels digging to the small of his back, your fingers tugging on the roots of his hair, they would discover you in a heartbeat.Â
âJ-Jinwooâwaitâthe lightsââ
With his lips sucking hard bruises on your neck, Jinwoo lifted one hand in the air and clenched his fingers into a fist. All the lightbulbs shattered at once, their sounds piercing the air, stealing a surprised yelp out of you, which he silenced immediately with his mouth. The same invisible force shielded you from the pieces of glass raining down from the ceiling, leaving your heart rattling in your chest but your skin uninjured.
You were embraced by the darkness again, though it was never as thick as you would love it to be. The silver moonlight still bathed your skin, and the golden shine of the bollard lights surrounding your garden remained bright enough for you to discern your husbandâs features, but at least, you no longer felt like you were standing under the spotlight. You still couldnât entirely chase your anxiety away, however, and noticing that, Jinwoo captured your face, his fingers pressed firmly on each side of your jaw.
"Focus on me,â he said, palm plastered against the front of your throat. Although pain was absent from his touch, his hold on you was firm, controlling, his voice commanding. âI donât want you to think about anything else. Keep your eyes on me. Focus on how Iâm making you feel right now.âÂ
And it felt good. He made you feel so damn good that by the time he plunged himself deep into you again, you found yourself crying out against his mouth, clutching onto him like a lifeline. Jinwoo was just as deep in rapture as you were, unintentionally ripping the top buttons of your dress in his desperation to taste more of your skin. He was beyond aggressive, unrestrained, and impatient, and God, you loved it. You couldnât remember the last time he was like this, and the feelings brought you quickly to ecstasy.Â
You were close, your pleasure building up faster than it ever did. âJinwoo, Iâmââ
âI know,â he moaned against your shoulder, his teeth just one pressure away from sinking into your flesh. âIâm close too, angel, just a little bit⊠ngh⊠moreâŠâ
He quickened his pace, taking his cock completely out of you only to drive himself back to the hilt, each thrust hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. You fell over the edge with your lips parted in a silent moan, your nails scraping against the back of his shirt, your legs shaking, tautening around him as you reached cloud nine.
The sensation of your walls closing in around his cock was almost too much to bear, but he needed that one single push, just one sweet moan from you in the shape of his name, to make him grasp that vigorous wave of euphoria. âSweetheart, pleaseââ
Knowing exactly what he was begging for, you embraced him closely by the neck, gripped his soft locks beneath your fingers, and whispered the words heâd been dying to hear right against his mouth.
âI love you, Jinwoo.âÂ
He shuddered, his skin breaking into goosebumps, and he finished inside you with a deep, gravelly groan erupting from the back of his throat. His hips stuttered, slowing down but not yet stopping until he finished spilling everything inside. His breaths came out raggedly, hot against your neck. His left hand was still glued to the wall beside your head.Â
As your tremors began to dissipate, your husband carefully placed you back on your feet, holding you close until you could stand on your own. Your legs felt like jelly beneath your weight, your strength leaving you after experiencing what might be one of the most mind-blowing orgasms youâd ever had.
âThat was⊠intense,â Jinwoo tittered breathlessly, his hair all tousled, his face the prettiest shade of pink. It mesmerized you just how stunning he looked like this, and it satisfied you more than anything to know that you would always be the oneâthe only oneâwho could see this side of him, who could bring this side of him into view. Little did you know he was thinking the same thing about you. The way you stood there, gazing up at him with your starry eyes slightly watery from your orgasm, your dress torn and crumpled, your skin marked and claimed. He could easily go for another roundâor threeâif you let him.
âYou okay?â He asked as he swatted the stray strands out of your eyes, helping you with your dress before he fixed his own attire. You nodded a bit drunkenly, and he let out another chuckle before planting a soft kiss on your temple. âIâm sorry for ruining your dress.â
âAnd my panties,â you added, snatching the torn fabric away from your heel. You stared flatly at it, your tone monotonous when you said, âUnbelievable. This is the third time, Jinwoo. Three times youâve done this to me."
He was embarrassed by it. So cute. âIâm sorry.â
âNo, youâre not sorry,â you teased him with a poke on his cheek. âBuy me another one? The dress, I mean. I donât trust you with my lingerie after what you bought me last time.â
He laughed softly at the memory. âIâll buy you the prettiest one. Promise.â Brushing a light kiss on your temple, he spoke his worry once more. âHow are you feeling? Did I hurt you?âÂ
The genuine concern in his tone caused your joy to unfold. In all honesty, yes, he did, but every pain was welcomedâno, every pain was desired, and you wished you could have more. More consuming kisses that left your lips swollen. More love bites on your neck that would last until he returned home. More bruises on your hips and thighs from how hard he was holding you. It felt nice to be dominated, to be owned, to be so wanted by your husband that he lost control of himself, of his mind.Â
âWhat?â Jinwoo raised a brow, looking at you funny. âWhy are you smiling like that?â
âNothing,â you replied with a sheepish smile, stroking his cheek. But with him looking at you with such confusion in his eyes, you felt like you owed him the truth. âI just realized you never fucked me this way before, and it scares me just how much I enjoyed it.â
He blushed at your words, so fervently that you wondered if this was the same man who had just mounted you like a beast in heat a moment ago. But then he laughed, the sound so delicate and pretty in your ears. âI was going to apologize for being carried away, butâŠâ He bent his head down, bringing himself to your eye level as a smirk crept up his lips. âIf thatâs what youâre into, then I have so much more in store for you.â
You swallowed, your skin tingling with excitement at the thought. âW-we can try that after you get home. Donât you have a plane to catch?â
âShit, youâre right.â As unbelievable as it was, he had truly forgotten about it. Jinwoo hastily rummaged through his pocket for his car key, racing against time. âOkay, Iâll be leaving now.â He kissed you quickly, almost making you stumble from how fast he was grabbing your face. âGoodbye, love. Iâll see you soon.â
âJinwoo, wait,â you giggled, tugging him back by his arm. âYou got my lipstick all over you.â You rubbed your thumb over his lips, trying to wipe off the red stain. âAnd your hairâs mess. Do you have a comb with you?â
âItâs all right, I love it like this.â He tossed you a boyish smile. âIt feels like Iâm carrying a part of you with me, like some kind of proof that reminds me of what we just did.â He then continued in a whisper, his smirk grazing your earlobe. âThe same way youâre carrying a part of me⊠inside you.â
You grew mortified, all due to his words and the feeling of his essence seeping out of you. You could feel it trickling down your thigh before you squeezed your legs together, face aflame. âLeave. Now.â You whirled his body around, shoving him forward. âAnd tell your shadow soldiers to help me change the lights. I canât believe you used your skill for that.â
He tossed you a grin over his shoulder. âGotta make the best use of what I have, Sweetheart.âÂ
âI donât think Igris would be happy to know that youâre using Ruler's Hand for sex.â
âOh, baby, trust me, if I were planning to use Rulerâs Hand for sex, bursting lightbulbs would be at the bottom of the list.â His smirk carried the promise of something lewd, something naughty. âAnd also, if Iâm happy, all my soldiers are happy, Igris included. And Iâm definitely happy right now, all thanks to my sweet girl.â
âYeah, yeah, whatever,â you snorted despite heat filling your cheeks. âNow go before Jinho kills you.âÂ
He chortled softly, âYes, Maâam.âÂ
You watched him stride away with your hands on your hips, sighing despite the way your lips curved up in amusement. You were going to miss these little banters you have. Some parts of you still refused to let him go, but when Jinwoo rolled down his window, giving you one last smile with one hand on the steering wheel, all you could say was, âCome home to me, darling.â
âI will, baby.â
And as he drove into the night, disappearing from your sight and leaving your heart lamenting in your chest, you knew you had no choice but to put your faith in him. This wouldnât be the last time you see him. It would never be. Jinwoo would make sure of that.
Because if he had to watch the world burn for it, for you, then so be it.Â
Heaven or hell, Gods or the Devils, Iâll destroy them all.
As long as I can come home to you, Sweetheart, nothing else matters. ***
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
You've Seen the Butcher || Sung Jin-woo Headcanons (18+ MDNI)
Featuring: fluff, smut, and the lingerie he loves most on you
You slowly enter 'Cause you know my room And then you crawl your knees off And then you shake my tomb

A/N: I've been meaning to make a thirst/shameless smut post for this scrumptious man, and his appearance in the last episode finally gave me the push to do it. As always, please be mindful of the content warnings listed below.
àŒșâĄàŒ» Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
àŒșâĄàŒ» Lingerie set images from @martysimone
Content warnings: 18+ MDNI, shameless smut, body worship, praise, slight degradation, afab!reader, A-rankhealer!reader, established relationship, feral!Jin-woo




Sets featured (top left to bottom right): 1.) Agent Provocateur | Dianah in leavers lace + crystals | Spring Summer 2024, 2.) I.D. Sarrieri | Venetian Glass in Blue Jeans embroidered tulle + silk, 3.) Dita Von Teese | Victresse in Kingfisher Blue satin + embroidered tulle, 4.) Dita Von Teese | Rosewyn black + green embroidery on tulle + velvet straps + finishes
Dungeons are harsh, unforgiving landscapes devoid of warmth or light. There was no room for error in these dangerous outliers. Even attempting an "easy" raid in a D-rank gate can come at the cost of your life. The double dungeon incident was more than enough proof of that. Due to the unpredictability in their line of work, many hunters simply could not afford the luxury of a love life much less a committed relationship. Sung Jin-woo was one such hunter.
As the man once mocked as being the âweakest hunter of all mankindâ, he had more than his fair share of life stressors: a father who's been missing and presumed dead for the last ten years, a sick mother whose hospital bills wouldâve totaled in the billions of won if not for the Hunters Association, and being the sole provider for his hardworking and studious little sister. Compound all this by him nearly dying every day and it was easy to see how romance was furthest thing from Jin-wooâs mind.
And then you stepped into his life â

Prior to entering a relationship, you and Jin-woo were fellow hunters who embarked on many of the same raids together. Despite being an A-rank healer, you chose to frequent E- and D-rank gates to render aid to those in need. Many of your peers sneered at your actions deeming them to be beneath a hunter of your caliber. But you paid them no heed. You enjoyed being able to use your mage craft to help others.
You're constantly crossing paths with Jin-woo because of how often heâs injured. He's never left a raid without at least one broken bone, a nasty gash, or some other form of bodily harm. Yet no matter how grievous his wounds are, heâs always coming back to participate in more raids. You canât help but feel for the young man especially after witnessing his sheer grit and determination. You find Jin-woo's strength of will to be admirable and in your opinion he's far more courageous than most of the A- and S-ranks youâre acquainted with.
You tend to be very hands-on when it comes to healing Jin-woo: cradling his head in your lap, running your fingers through his hair, and speaking in soothing voice to distract him from the pain. He was just so vulnerable like this; you couldnât help but coddle him. Within the span of a few weeks, you became comfortable enough around Jin-woo to share the intimacies of your life with him. And he did as well. Ironically itâs in a dungeon of all places that a deep emotional connection develops. It isn't long before your mutual friendship progresses into something more.
Unfortunately, the former E-rank was too insecure at the time to act on his feelings. Itâs not until he acquires the system and starts leveling up that he becomes confident enough to confess to you. The radiant smile that blossoms across your face and the sensation of your soft lips molding against his has Jin-woo mentally kicking himself for not doing this sooner. Heâd only had a small taste but he was already addicted to you.
It's only after he falls in love that Jin-woo discovers his appreciation of lingerie.
He's never given much thought to womenâs undergarments before. Sure, the intricate patterns of tulle, silk, and lace appealed to the eye, but Jin-woo much prefers you bared in all your naked glory. To the reawakened hunter there was nothing more gorgeous than the sight of your lush body writhing in ecstasy as he fucks you into oblivion.
Jin-woo absolutely adores fucking you. He just can't get enough of his pretty girl. He'll make you cum repeatedly until your mind melts and you're completely consumed by pleasure. The man revels in your softness, delights in your cute moans and sighs. Hell, heâd spend all of eternity with his head buried between your thighs if you'd let him. Jin-woo wants to drown in you and your perfect little cunt.
Making love to Jin-woo is an otherworldly experience. He's the most selfless and giving partner you've ever had, bar none. Part of this can be attributed to his high perception stat. It enables him to be fully attuned to all your sexual needs and desires. He can even sense when you're ovulating, and itâs at the peak of your fertility when your normally gentle and considerate lover becomes downright insatiable.
Running his calloused hands all over your smooth thighs while he spreads them apart. Grunting rough and low into your ear when he sees just how much of "wet and needy little slut" you are for him. Sinking his deft fingers into the fat of your hips as he bounces you up and down on his cock at a frantic pace. Every delicious drag of his thick cockhead has your eyes rolling back into your skull and pressure continuously mounts in the pit of your stomach. He's hitting all your best spots just right causing you to keen and arch against him. And just as your climax washes over you he silences your cries with his lips, kissing you to completion.
Although he can be incredibly rough with you at times, Jin-woo always ensures you receive an ample amount of body worship and after care. Youâre the most cherished person in his life after all. You were there for him when he was at his lowest point. A source of solace in a world filled with violence, deception, and betrayal. How could he not treat you with the utmost reverence?
As you come down from your high, Jin-woo gently caresses your inner thighs with his hands, trailing a path of feather-light kisses from your ankles to your calves and all the way up to your hips. He then brings his face towards your soaked pussy, still puffy and swollen from being ravished earlier. Jin-woo smirks and shoots a smoldering gaze at you.
âWant me to kiss it better, pretty girl?â
Your only response is to stroke his mussed-up hair and push him directly into your cunt. Liquid heat courses through your veins as Jin-woo lavishes attention on your core. You almost tumble off the bed when he abruptly takes your aching clit into his mouth and sucks hard on it. At this rate heâd be making you cum for the sixth time that evening.
Throughout his ministrations a ceaseless stream of praise falls from his lips in between wet smacks and groans.
âYouâre doing so good, so fucking good for me sweetheart.â
âYou needed this, didnât you pretty girl? Big strong hands all over your body and that perfect little pussy.â
âYouâre gonna cum? Go ahead and cum then, sweetheart. Take what you need, yeah. Take what you fucking need.â
âMhm â Â yeah, thatâs it! Cum all over my tongue! Good girl, perfect fucking girl!â
Suffice to say the man is enamored with every last inch of you. The very idea of impeding your mouthwatering curves with flimsy pieces of fabric seems like a crime against nature to Jin-woo.
After a series of particularly grueling raids, Jin-woo wants nothing more than to return home, wash away the dayâs frustrations in a hot shower, and fall asleep with you in his arms. You had other ideas, however.
A sudden vibration from his phone catches his attention. When he retrieves the device from his pocket, he's greeted by a text from you with an image attached to it. Shit, he forgot to call or text you as soon as he closed the gate! Jin-woo hadn't been able to stay in contact while traversing through dungeons due to the interference from their magical energy, so he always made sure to reach out to you as soon as he was back. He must've been so tired that it slipped his mind. He'd also been gone longer than he intended to. Dammit, you were probably worried about him...
When he opens your text, he expects you to have sent a short message to check in on him like you usually do in these situations. However, there's only the attached image. The moment Jin-woo takes in what's seeing, he nearly ends up crushing his phone from how hard he was gripping it. The text contained a picture of you, dressed to kill in a royal blue lingerie set. Your body was splayed out provocatively over the king-sized bed you both shared. Jin-woo finds himself at an utter loss for words. You were just stunning, like sex incarnate.
An embroidered bra comprised of tulle and silk cups your supple breasts, accentuating their beauty. The matching garter belt and thong are equally flattering, trailing across the dips and curves of your figure like running water. Kohl rimmed eyes and rouge lips round out your sumptuous appearance, making you even more beguiling. Jin-woo feels as if he's been enraptured by an enchantress; he canât tear his eyes away from you. Unable to bear being apart from you for another second, he performs a hasty Shadow Exchange with the high orc appointed as your bodyguard.
A coy smile tugs at your lips as you see Jin-woo manifest behind you from the top of your vanity mirror. His timing was impeccable, you had just finished touching up your make up. He all but pounces on you before you even have the chance to turn around. Jin-woo captures your lips in a flurry of hot, open mouthed kisses. His hands grope and wander all over your form, pinching and teasing your nipples through the sheer material of your bra. You moan and tilt your head back, granting him access to the column of your neck. You chuckle breathlessly as he mouths against the tender flesh.
"I take it you liked my surprise for you, huh Jin-woo?"
"Mhm," Jin-woo hums as he leaves a small love bite under your ear, "I loved it. You're the hottest thing I've ever seen, sweetheart. I couldn't last another moment without having my lips on your skin. Fuck, how did I get to be so lucky?"
You wrap your arms around the back of his broad shoulders and lean forward to whisper seductively in his ear.
"It's been so long since I've had you, Jin-woo. Please, don't stop. I need you inside of me."
He pulls his head back, and the look he sends you almost causes your knees to buckle. His eyes have taken on a beautiful amethyst hue and there's a voracious hunger in them. You felt like a rabbit staring into the gaze of a wolf, and it thrilled you. You loved when Jin-woo got like this â completely unhinged and feral for you.
He effortlessly hoists you over his shoulder and tosses you onto the bed like a ragdoll. It knocks the wind out of you, and you can only stare up at him as he begins to remove his shirt, his eyes never once leaving yours. You drink in his appearance as more and more tantalizing skin is revealed. The muscles of his chest and abdomen are drawn taught, and his biceps flex and bulge when they come into view. Your legs spread automatically at the sight, and Jin-woo proceeds to pin you to the bed, unable to control his lust any longer. You feel yourself sinking into the abyss as he has his wicked way with you. Neither of you end up leaving the room for the next three days.
From that point on, Jin-woo made sure to fill your wardrobe with multiple sets of expensive lingerie. He was finally beginning to understand the appeal of an S-rank hunter's exorbitant salary. One would think Jin-woo would be drawn to darker, more mature pieces that matched his tenebrous aura. But his taste in lingerie was very much the polar opposite.
Teal, sky blue, navy blue, and neutral shades of green, beige and white are his favorite colors on you. He's also obsessed with garters, sheer material, and lace. Nothing gets Jin-woo more fired up than seeing his girl all dolled up. You're a goddess in his eyes and you only deserve the best.

2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sung Jin-woo letting one of his shadows join? Only if itâs Igris.Â
đmdniđ
jinwoo x reader x igris
Warnings: nsfw, expletives, smut, threesome, would this be considered necrophilia? I sincerely hope not, anywaysâoral, pnv, dom jin, just absolute filth, creampieâalthough questionable, throatpie, multiple forced orgasms, first persons pov, links attached for some visuals, i just wanna shoutout this tiktok
ââ
I canât lie, whenever I watch Igris in action my heart thuds in my chest, hard. Itâs just the way he carries himself that makes him seemâŠso human. But heâs a beast, and he became Jinwooâs shadow by a split hair.Â
Itâs no secret that theyâre both equally as powerful.Â
Sometimes I let myself fantasize for a while. Let myself think that when he looks at me, heâs feeling the same way. That his heart is slamming into his ribs, just like mineâif he even has one. I canât help but wonder, whatâs under that mask? Or rather,Â
Whoâs under that mask?Â
Jinwoo catapults across my field of vision, slamming into the wall of the training arena. Igris stalks towards him, sword at his side and cape flowing behind him. I watch his every move, his every strut. He glances over to me, staring down at me with a predatory gaze, checking on me. Well, thatâs what I allow myself to believe, only for a second. I know where his loyalty lies.Â
Regardless, my heartâs about to fly out of my fucking chest.Â
Within seconds, Jinwoo regains his strength, getting back up to rejoin this⊠âsparâ. His aggression is palpable, I can sense it from all the way over here in these four walls tucked behind this safety glass. Only Igris can bring out this side of himâitâs always a fair fight, after all.Â
Well, almost.Â
I always look away at this point. It always gets bad for Igris. But for some reason, I canât today. I watch, eyes fixed to the scene unfolding before me.Â
Jinwoo slams Igris into the ground, sending a rumble through the earth beneath me. The chair Iâm seated in shakes, and I grip the table in front of me. Igris fades into black smoke under Jinwooâs fist, and his glowing eyes snap up to meet mine, piercing into me with a threatening glare.Â
Fuck.Â
My core spasms. Suddenly Iâm empty, and yearning for Jinwoo to make it better. He stands and walks through the residual mist that was once Igris, toward me. I swallow hard and reign in the ball of muscle trying to break through my ribcage.
His stare never falters, his eyes are anchored to me. I stand as I urge myself to hold it, to dominate it. But itâs too intimidatingâheâs too intimidating. I look down, just for a brief second, showing my submission. And when I look back upâŠ
Heâs gone.Â
I feel a gust of wind and Jinwooâs voice growls my name behind me, his hot breath misting against my shoulder. I break out into a shiver, and I stumble back into him. He catches me, steadying me with his iron grip on my waist.Â
âJinââÂ
âIgris has taken quite an interest in you.â
He cuts me short with a hint of aggression in his voice. My stomach drops. His fingers wander down my hips, to my thighsâunder the hem of my skirt. He presses his lips against the shell of my ear.Â
âIâm not quite sure if I like that.âÂ
âWh-what do you mean?â I whisper, obviously unnerved. I feel his hard bulge press into me, and my pussy floods with heat.Â
âI'm his master.â Jinwoo speaks a little too calmly, subtly tugging my skirt up, little by little. âI know his thoughts, his feelings. He takes a particular liking to yourâhah, well, everything.â He yanks my skirt the rest of the way up in one swift, harsh move. âI mean, I do know the feeling.âÂ
What is he even saying? That IgrisâŠfeels something for me? I can barely think, much less focus on the words heâs speaking. Not when heâs thumbing at my soaked panty.Â
âI didnât know he could feel anything. Heâs a shadow.â I say, breathless.Â
âYes, he is. But he still has his ownâŠurges. Instincts.â He whispers quietly as he tugs my panties down my hips, letting them drop to my ankles.Â
âDesires.âÂ
âR-Right.â I gasp and hold my breath in anticipation and my body tenses.Â
Heâs going to bend me over this table and fuck me.Â
I swear I feel a gush between my legs, and suddenly my face is flush against the wooden table and his feet are kicking apart mine. My panty stretches between my ankles and he snakes his fingers around my throat.Â
âIgris.â He summons his best shadow in a thick, dark voice, and Igris fabricates from a black mist in front of me, as if he didnât just disappear. âIsnât that right?âÂ
I look up from the table, only to be met by a suit of armor and his piercing gaze spearing down through me. Shit. He can see meâŠlike this. With my panties at my ankles, bent over a piece of furniture.Â
How embarrassing.Â
I feel Jinwoo fiddle single handedly with the buckle of his belt, and then the button on his pants. His other hand maintains its searing grip on my throat and jaw, forcing me to meet Igrisâs quiet gaze. I struggle to breathe and my eyes threaten to leak.Â
My heart is going to explode.Â
âSee? He didnât even respond. He has total control over himself.â His voice lowers into a whisper next to my face and I hear his zipper. âHe actually wants to fuck you.âÂ
What? Heâwhat? My eyes bulge wider, if itâs even possible, and I feel his cock notch at my slick opening.
So what, heâs forcing him to watch us? To teach him some sick lesson?Â
Jinwoo must sense my unease, and he loosens his grip on my jaw and my head slumps back down to the table. But Iâm still staring into the void of Igrisâs eyes. He remains unmoving, eerily still in his stance with his sword sheathed on his back.Â
âCaalm.â He draws out the word, letting his fingers just barely skate along the length of my spine.
My back arches and I roll onto the tips of my toes to present my pussy to him. Pathetic. I almost hate how wet and ripe I am for him. He hasnât even looked me in the eye yet.Â
âWeâre not doing anything you donât want.â Jin-wooâs hand trails up to grip my throat once more, and he hunches over me until his lips are next to my ear again.Â
âIsnât that right, sweetheart?âÂ
Jin-woo breaches me with exigency, in one hard thrust of his hips. I let out a whimper and try to stay on my toes as I frantically adjust to his thick cock inside me.Â
âI see the way you look at him.â He growls as he presses a harsh kiss onto my jaw.Â
He knows. And heâs teaching me a lesson, too.Â
âIâŠI donât.â I canât find my voice to tell my lie, especially when Iâm doing it nowâstaring at Igris while his master is inside me.Â
Jin-woo lets out a low, wicked chuckle, and his hand tightens on my throat. Igris moves just a millimeter, as if he were about to let himself react to his master's slender fingers wrapped around my neck.Â
But he holds himself firm, head ever so slightly tilted down as he takes in the sight beneath him. The sight of my quivering, glossy eyes peering up at him, and my flushed, swollen lips glistening with a layer of spit.Â
âCareful, Igris.â Jinwoo warns his subordinate. âWeâre not in the arena anymore. You might hurt her if you retaliate here.â He unleashes me from his grip, allowing me to take an unobstructed breath.Â
âHeâs not a fan of my hand around your throat.â Jin-woo whispers into my ear, and pulls out of me suddenly, leaving me empty and aching.Â
âI wonât hurt her. Sheâs mine, remember?â Jinwoo speaks nonchalantly, as if he were stating a fact. Reassuring Igris, yet at the same time reminding him that Iâm his. I can sense Igris tenseâhe feels like a ball of kinetic energy, ready to burst.Â
Jinwooâs cock prods at me again, and I ready myself for the impact of his thrust. I know itâs going to be brutal. He slams into me with a ruthless smack, making the table beneath me topple onto two legs. My fingers grip onto its corners as I bite my cheek to stifle the moan threatening to rip from my throat.Â
âMine to fuck.â Jin-woo growls, and thereâs a possessive tone to his voice. He wraps my hair around his fist and yanks my head back. Now Iâm forced to stare directly at him. âIsnât that right, sweetheart?âÂ
That damn question again. He wants me to say it to his face. To make it clear that he owns me and my pussy.
âYes.â I just barely whisper and feel him ram into me again. âFuck!âÂ
Igris takes a step toward me, his stare trained down on me. Heâs so close to me now, and Iâm eye level with his armored crotch. Blood rushes to my face and Jinwoo hisses behind me.Â
âSoon.â Jinwoo snaps, using the grip he has on my hair to hold me firm as he immediately sets a relentless pace, fucking into me with a vengeance.
âSoon? W-whatâs ha-ppening soon?â My voice bounces from his incessant thrusts, and Iâm so fucking overwhelmed.Â
âIgris wants his turn.â Jinwoo growls.Â
HisâŠturn?
My heart lunges out my chest, and Iâm pushed closer towards the edge. The image of Igris actually fucking me is almost too much to handle. If he were to fuck meâŠoh god. Iâm going to cum from just the thought.Â
âJinwoo, wait. Iââ I moan softly as my legs tremble and my pussy grips his cock. Fuck, Iâm going to come already. And Igris is going to watch it happen. âPlease, s-slowerâor, or, Iâm going toâhaahâgonna!âÂ
âYeah? Already?â He huffs, letting his hips snap into me repeatedly, fucking me like heâs angry with me. âJust from the mere thought of my shadow fucking your needy little pussy?â
âN-No!â I deny the truth through a tiny, pathetic cry, fixating on the sight directly in front of me.
The armor guarding Igrisâs most prized possession looks tight.Â
âShow her your face.â Jin-woo orders quickly, huffing and puffing as he ruts into me.Â
Igris obeys, taking off his helmet and letting it fall to the ground with a clank. I crane my neck to look up at him and Iâm met with glowing red eyes.
Hungry, scarred, red eyes, staring down at me like he wants to wreck me.
His hair flows down past his shoulders, a stark white with silver highlights. Christ, heâs more gorgeous than I ever imagined.Â
And I'm comingâŠto his face.Â
âFu-uck.â I whine shakily and watch Igrisâs eyes widen and his angular jaw tense.Â
âOh fuck, sheâs cumming on my cock, Igris.â Jinwoo grunts and fucks me through every spasm that ripples through me. I writhe and squirm underneath his grip and my eyes fill to the brim with hot tears. âDonât you wanna feel that?âÂ
Igrisâs gaze snaps to Jinwooâs, and the answer to that question is written all over his beautiful face.Â
âShadow exchange.â Jinwoo growls under his breath.Â
Within moments, Igris fades to black and before me stands the menace himselfâthe shadow monarchâhuge cock in hand with his ominous, glowing eyes shooting freshly sharpened daggers into me.Â
Then I feel it. A delicious stretch. My still throbbing cunt desperately tries to adjust to Igrisâs fat cock. Heâs inside me. Heâs really fucking inside me. Fuck, itâs so thick and big that I could cry. I really might fucking cry.Â
I let out a wobbly whimper and force myself to keep still, if I move I think Iâll split open. All I can do is peer up into the luminous eyes that look back down at me with contempt, as I beg him to do something.Â
âOh my god. J-Jin. Jinwoo.â I chitter through my teeth and my tears of disbelief finally stain my cheeks. âJin-woo, heâs really i-inside me.â
âImpressive, mm?â He grunts, breathing heavily. He cups my chin, pads of his fingers sinking into my damp cheeks. He tsks, and a slight smirk tugs at his lips. âI want to be inside you too, darling.âÂ
Jinwoo drives his thumb and pointer finger into my jaw bone, forcing my mouth open. He gives himself a few sloppy strokes before swiping his swollen tip on my lips as if it were lipstick, coating them in my own cum.Â
âTongue.â He demands through a breathless groan, and my tongue instinctively darts out, tasting myself on him.Â
Iâm sweet.Â
âThatâs my good girl.â Jin-woo grins, his thumb rubbing my cheek tenderly like some sort of twisted praise.
His attention turns to his second in command, and he takes in the sight of him mounted to me. His cock twitches against my tongue, and my mouth reflexively closes around his mushroomy head.Â
âHnngâsheâs incredible, isnât she?â Jinwoo sounds so smug, and for the first time, I hear Igris grunt. âFuck her good, Igris.âÂ
The force of his first thrust litters my vision with stars, and it pushes me further down onto Jinwooâs cock all at once. Jinwoo takes an intentional breath to stifle a groan and begins balling my hair into his fist.Â
My clit definitely has its own fucking heartbeat.Â
Igris begins thrusting in and out of me like a starved man, shoving himself as deep as my tiny body will allow him. His movements are incessant, laced with desperation. Like heâs been waitingâwanting to do this for a long, long time. Heâs fucking into me like heâs never fucked a pussy in his life and the thought of that likely being the truth is making this even hotter.Â
âShit, I donât even need to fuck your throat.â Jinwoo huffs with a smile and stands still, proving his point. âHeâs fucking you so hard that your throat is riding my cock.â
Tears stream down my face and my head feels like itâs full of cotton. Am I even breathing? I test it out and hear a gurgling noise that I can only assume came from me. Jinwoo pulls out of me, holding my head in the air and I hear myself heave a loud breath.Â
âDonât pass out on us, sweetheart.â Jinwooâs dark voice echoes and I feel him tap my cheek a few times with his cock. âCome on, you can take us both. Right?â
He slowly sinks his cock down my throat again, inch by inch. I gag and my eyes water, because while heâs doing that, Igris is ramming him into the back of my throat repeatedly.Â
Itâs all too much.Â
I shake my head and tap Jinâs thigh, and he yanks out of me and I gasp for air. He strokes himself fast, with his hips thrusted into the air and his core flexed. He groans low and long, watching me. Watching us.
âMake her cum.â He speaks quickly, stroking himself harder. Igris pounds into me at a frightening rate and I feel the coil in my core suddenly snap. I let out a filthy moan, loud and languid, from the back of my fucked out throat. âSheâs gonna come, Igris.âÂ
I am. I fucking am.Â
âIâmâIâm cummiââ
Jinwoo stuffs his cock back down my throat with an urgency, hunching over me and fucking my throat like itâs a pussy. His hand snakes down my belly, and his finger barely swipes my pulsing clit. His ghost touch sends me over the edge and I cum so. fucking. hard. My pussy throbs so bad that Igris groans like a dying man and ruts me harder.Â
âOh fuck, baby. Yes.â Jinwoo moans, giving me one brutal thrust before emptying himself down my throat.
He grunts from the bottom of his stomach and he holds me for what feels like an eternity on his pulsating cock before tugging me off of him. I cough and sputter, swallowing between sorry attempts at taking a breath.Â
âGranted.â Jinwoo catches his own breath, and I canât even speak to ask him what heâs allowing Igris to do to me now. He leans down, caressing my face and brushing my sweaty hair away from my pleading eyes. He plants a tender kiss on my ear and as he pulls away he whispers to me.
âIgris wants permission to breed you. Thatâs okay, right darling?â
Jin-woo takes a step back and I call for him with my hoarse voice. But he only grins and uses his stealth to fade into thin air, seemingly leaving me alone with the knight commander Igrisâthe blood red. I feel his metal arm wrap over my chest and his hand grip my shoulder to gain purchase.Â
âI-Igris.â I nervously and directly acknowledge him for the first time in this entire interaction. âPle-aseâŠâÂ
He growls and pulls me off the table and into his hard exterior. My toes cramp from trying to stay on my feet but heâs way too big and I feel myself lifting off the ground. He wraps his other hand around my waist and supports me with ease, fucking me mid-air. I claw at his armour and my legs kick and cross but Iâm trapped in his undying grasp.Â
âHoly shitâŠIgris!â I cry out, frantic. âHold on!â Â
Igrisâs rhythm goes sloppy, and heâs trying to force as much of himself inside me as he possibly can. Heâs trying to kill me, not breed me. A high pitched squeal splits my quivering lips and I kick a little harderâentirely too overwhelmed and overstimulated.Â
âT-Too deep! Youâre too deep!â My tears stream down my cheeks yet my pummeled pussy weeps for more.Â
âYouâre okay, my princess.â Igrisâs deep voice hurls me into my third orgasm and I go limp in his grip, completely dissolving into the pleasure of his cock filling every possible part of me.
He cums with a gruff shout, tightening his arms around me as he stays inside me, stuffing me with cum until Iâm queasy.Â
My vision splits and fades to black and his grip on me fades with it. I hear a hushed sound and feel myself falling. Iâm about to slam into the floor. I brace for impact in my fizzled brain yet I donât feel the hard, cold tile. Rather, a warmth envelopes me, cradling me as I blubber and fail to set any breathing pattern, much less a steady one.
âShh-shh. Breathe. You did so well, baby.â Itâs Jinwooâs voice, cooing at me, and he holds me close to his warm chest. âYou were such a good girl for us.âÂ
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sung Jin-woo letting one of his shadows join? Only if itâs Igris.Â
đmdniđ
jinwoo x reader x igris
Warnings: nsfw, expletives, smut, threesome, would this be considered necrophilia? I sincerely hope not, anywaysâoral, pnv, dom jin, just absolute filth, creampieâalthough questionable, throatpie, multiple forced orgasms, first persons pov, links attached for some visuals, i just wanna shoutout this tiktok
ââ
I canât lie, whenever I watch Igris in action my heart thuds in my chest, hard. Itâs just the way he carries himself that makes him seemâŠso human. But heâs a beast, and he became Jinwooâs shadow by a split hair.Â
Itâs no secret that theyâre both equally as powerful.Â
Sometimes I let myself fantasize for a while. Let myself think that when he looks at me, heâs feeling the same way. That his heart is slamming into his ribs, just like mineâif he even has one. I canât help but wonder, whatâs under that mask? Or rather,Â
Whoâs under that mask?Â
Jinwoo catapults across my field of vision, slamming into the wall of the training arena. Igris stalks towards him, sword at his side and cape flowing behind him. I watch his every move, his every strut. He glances over to me, staring down at me with a predatory gaze, checking on me. Well, thatâs what I allow myself to believe, only for a second. I know where his loyalty lies.Â
Regardless, my heartâs about to fly out of my fucking chest.Â
Within seconds, Jinwoo regains his strength, getting back up to rejoin this⊠âsparâ. His aggression is palpable, I can sense it from all the way over here in these four walls tucked behind this safety glass. Only Igris can bring out this side of himâitâs always a fair fight, after all.Â
Well, almost.Â
I always look away at this point. It always gets bad for Igris. But for some reason, I canât today. I watch, eyes fixed to the scene unfolding before me.Â
Jinwoo slams Igris into the ground, sending a rumble through the earth beneath me. The chair Iâm seated in shakes, and I grip the table in front of me. Igris fades into black smoke under Jinwooâs fist, and his glowing eyes snap up to meet mine, piercing into me with a threatening glare.Â
Fuck.Â
My core spasms. Suddenly Iâm empty, and yearning for Jinwoo to make it better. He stands and walks through the residual mist that was once Igris, toward me. I swallow hard and reign in the ball of muscle trying to break through my ribcage.
His stare never falters, his eyes are anchored to me. I stand as I urge myself to hold it, to dominate it. But itâs too intimidatingâheâs too intimidating. I look down, just for a brief second, showing my submission. And when I look back upâŠ
Heâs gone.Â
I feel a gust of wind and Jinwooâs voice growls my name behind me, his hot breath misting against my shoulder. I break out into a shiver, and I stumble back into him. He catches me, steadying me with his iron grip on my waist.Â
âJinââÂ
âIgris has taken quite an interest in you.â
He cuts me short with a hint of aggression in his voice. My stomach drops. His fingers wander down my hips, to my thighsâunder the hem of my skirt. He presses his lips against the shell of my ear.Â
âIâm not quite sure if I like that.âÂ
âWh-what do you mean?â I whisper, obviously unnerved. I feel his hard bulge press into me, and my pussy floods with heat.Â
âI'm his master.â Jinwoo speaks a little too calmly, subtly tugging my skirt up, little by little. âI know his thoughts, his feelings. He takes a particular liking to yourâhah, well, everything.â He yanks my skirt the rest of the way up in one swift, harsh move. âI mean, I do know the feeling.âÂ
What is he even saying? That IgrisâŠfeels something for me? I can barely think, much less focus on the words heâs speaking. Not when heâs thumbing at my soaked panty.Â
âI didnât know he could feel anything. Heâs a shadow.â I say, breathless.Â
âYes, he is. But he still has his ownâŠurges. Instincts.â He whispers quietly as he tugs my panties down my hips, letting them drop to my ankles.Â
âDesires.âÂ
âR-Right.â I gasp and hold my breath in anticipation and my body tenses.Â
Heâs going to bend me over this table and fuck me.Â
I swear I feel a gush between my legs, and suddenly my face is flush against the wooden table and his feet are kicking apart mine. My panty stretches between my ankles and he snakes his fingers around my throat.Â
âIgris.â He summons his best shadow in a thick, dark voice, and Igris fabricates from a black mist in front of me, as if he didnât just disappear. âIsnât that right?âÂ
I look up from the table, only to be met by a suit of armor and his piercing gaze spearing down through me. Shit. He can see meâŠlike this. With my panties at my ankles, bent over a piece of furniture.Â
How embarrassing.Â
I feel Jinwoo fiddle single handedly with the buckle of his belt, and then the button on his pants. His other hand maintains its searing grip on my throat and jaw, forcing me to meet Igrisâs quiet gaze. I struggle to breathe and my eyes threaten to leak.Â
My heart is going to explode.Â
âSee? He didnât even respond. He has total control over himself.â His voice lowers into a whisper next to my face and I hear his zipper. âHe actually wants to fuck you.âÂ
What? Heâwhat? My eyes bulge wider, if itâs even possible, and I feel his cock notch at my slick opening.
So what, heâs forcing him to watch us? To teach him some sick lesson?Â
Jinwoo must sense my unease, and he loosens his grip on my jaw and my head slumps back down to the table. But Iâm still staring into the void of Igrisâs eyes. He remains unmoving, eerily still in his stance with his sword sheathed on his back.Â
âCaalm.â He draws out the word, letting his fingers just barely skate along the length of my spine.
My back arches and I roll onto the tips of my toes to present my pussy to him. Pathetic. I almost hate how wet and ripe I am for him. He hasnât even looked me in the eye yet.Â
âWeâre not doing anything you donât want.â Jin-wooâs hand trails up to grip my throat once more, and he hunches over me until his lips are next to my ear again.Â
âIsnât that right, sweetheart?âÂ
Jin-woo breaches me with exigency, in one hard thrust of his hips. I let out a whimper and try to stay on my toes as I frantically adjust to his thick cock inside me.Â
âI see the way you look at him.â He growls as he presses a harsh kiss onto my jaw.Â
He knows. And heâs teaching me a lesson, too.Â
âIâŠI donât.â I canât find my voice to tell my lie, especially when Iâm doing it nowâstaring at Igris while his master is inside me.Â
Jin-woo lets out a low, wicked chuckle, and his hand tightens on my throat. Igris moves just a millimeter, as if he were about to let himself react to his master's slender fingers wrapped around my neck.Â
But he holds himself firm, head ever so slightly tilted down as he takes in the sight beneath him. The sight of my quivering, glossy eyes peering up at him, and my flushed, swollen lips glistening with a layer of spit.Â
âCareful, Igris.â Jinwoo warns his subordinate. âWeâre not in the arena anymore. You might hurt her if you retaliate here.â He unleashes me from his grip, allowing me to take an unobstructed breath.Â
âHeâs not a fan of my hand around your throat.â Jin-woo whispers into my ear, and pulls out of me suddenly, leaving me empty and aching.Â
âI wonât hurt her. Sheâs mine, remember?â Jinwoo speaks nonchalantly, as if he were stating a fact. Reassuring Igris, yet at the same time reminding him that Iâm his. I can sense Igris tenseâhe feels like a ball of kinetic energy, ready to burst.Â
Jinwooâs cock prods at me again, and I ready myself for the impact of his thrust. I know itâs going to be brutal. He slams into me with a ruthless smack, making the table beneath me topple onto two legs. My fingers grip onto its corners as I bite my cheek to stifle the moan threatening to rip from my throat.Â
âMine to fuck.â Jin-woo growls, and thereâs a possessive tone to his voice. He wraps my hair around his fist and yanks my head back. Now Iâm forced to stare directly at him. âIsnât that right, sweetheart?âÂ
That damn question again. He wants me to say it to his face. To make it clear that he owns me and my pussy.
âYes.â I just barely whisper and feel him ram into me again. âFuck!âÂ
Igris takes a step toward me, his stare trained down on me. Heâs so close to me now, and Iâm eye level with his armored crotch. Blood rushes to my face and Jinwoo hisses behind me.Â
âSoon.â Jinwoo snaps, using the grip he has on my hair to hold me firm as he immediately sets a relentless pace, fucking into me with a vengeance.
âSoon? W-whatâs ha-ppening soon?â My voice bounces from his incessant thrusts, and Iâm so fucking overwhelmed.Â
âIgris wants his turn.â Jinwoo growls.Â
HisâŠturn?
My heart lunges out my chest, and Iâm pushed closer towards the edge. The image of Igris actually fucking me is almost too much to handle. If he were to fuck meâŠoh god. Iâm going to cum from just the thought.Â
âJinwoo, wait. Iââ I moan softly as my legs tremble and my pussy grips his cock. Fuck, Iâm going to come already. And Igris is going to watch it happen. âPlease, s-slowerâor, or, Iâm going toâhaahâgonna!âÂ
âYeah? Already?â He huffs, letting his hips snap into me repeatedly, fucking me like heâs angry with me. âJust from the mere thought of my shadow fucking your needy little pussy?â
âN-No!â I deny the truth through a tiny, pathetic cry, fixating on the sight directly in front of me.
The armor guarding Igrisâs most prized possession looks tight.Â
âShow her your face.â Jin-woo orders quickly, huffing and puffing as he ruts into me.Â
Igris obeys, taking off his helmet and letting it fall to the ground with a clank. I crane my neck to look up at him and Iâm met with glowing red eyes.
Hungry, scarred, red eyes, staring down at me like he wants to wreck me.
His hair flows down past his shoulders, a stark white with silver highlights. Christ, heâs more gorgeous than I ever imagined.Â
And I'm comingâŠto his face.Â
âFu-uck.â I whine shakily and watch Igrisâs eyes widen and his angular jaw tense.Â
âOh fuck, sheâs cumming on my cock, Igris.â Jinwoo grunts and fucks me through every spasm that ripples through me. I writhe and squirm underneath his grip and my eyes fill to the brim with hot tears. âDonât you wanna feel that?âÂ
Igrisâs gaze snaps to Jinwooâs, and the answer to that question is written all over his beautiful face.Â
âShadow exchange.â Jinwoo growls under his breath.Â
Within moments, Igris fades to black and before me stands the menace himselfâthe shadow monarchâhuge cock in hand with his ominous, glowing eyes shooting freshly sharpened daggers into me.Â
Then I feel it. A delicious stretch. My still throbbing cunt desperately tries to adjust to Igrisâs fat cock. Heâs inside me. Heâs really fucking inside me. Fuck, itâs so thick and big that I could cry. I really might fucking cry.Â
I let out a wobbly whimper and force myself to keep still, if I move I think Iâll split open. All I can do is peer up into the luminous eyes that look back down at me with contempt, as I beg him to do something.Â
âOh my god. J-Jin. Jinwoo.â I chitter through my teeth and my tears of disbelief finally stain my cheeks. âJin-woo, heâs really i-inside me.â
âImpressive, mm?â He grunts, breathing heavily. He cups my chin, pads of his fingers sinking into my damp cheeks. He tsks, and a slight smirk tugs at his lips. âI want to be inside you too, darling.âÂ
Jinwoo drives his thumb and pointer finger into my jaw bone, forcing my mouth open. He gives himself a few sloppy strokes before swiping his swollen tip on my lips as if it were lipstick, coating them in my own cum.Â
âTongue.â He demands through a breathless groan, and my tongue instinctively darts out, tasting myself on him.Â
Iâm sweet.Â
âThatâs my good girl.â Jin-woo grins, his thumb rubbing my cheek tenderly like some sort of twisted praise.
His attention turns to his second in command, and he takes in the sight of him mounted to me. His cock twitches against my tongue, and my mouth reflexively closes around his mushroomy head.Â
âHnngâsheâs incredible, isnât she?â Jinwoo sounds so smug, and for the first time, I hear Igris grunt. âFuck her good, Igris.âÂ
The force of his first thrust litters my vision with stars, and it pushes me further down onto Jinwooâs cock all at once. Jinwoo takes an intentional breath to stifle a groan and begins balling my hair into his fist.Â
My clit definitely has its own fucking heartbeat.Â
Igris begins thrusting in and out of me like a starved man, shoving himself as deep as my tiny body will allow him. His movements are incessant, laced with desperation. Like heâs been waitingâwanting to do this for a long, long time. Heâs fucking into me like heâs never fucked a pussy in his life and the thought of that likely being the truth is making this even hotter.Â
âShit, I donât even need to fuck your throat.â Jinwoo huffs with a smile and stands still, proving his point. âHeâs fucking you so hard that your throat is riding my cock.â
Tears stream down my face and my head feels like itâs full of cotton. Am I even breathing? I test it out and hear a gurgling noise that I can only assume came from me. Jinwoo pulls out of me, holding my head in the air and I hear myself heave a loud breath.Â
âDonât pass out on us, sweetheart.â Jinwooâs dark voice echoes and I feel him tap my cheek a few times with his cock. âCome on, you can take us both. Right?â
He slowly sinks his cock down my throat again, inch by inch. I gag and my eyes water, because while heâs doing that, Igris is ramming him into the back of my throat repeatedly.Â
Itâs all too much.Â
I shake my head and tap Jinâs thigh, and he yanks out of me and I gasp for air. He strokes himself fast, with his hips thrusted into the air and his core flexed. He groans low and long, watching me. Watching us.
âMake her cum.â He speaks quickly, stroking himself harder. Igris pounds into me at a frightening rate and I feel the coil in my core suddenly snap. I let out a filthy moan, loud and languid, from the back of my fucked out throat. âSheâs gonna come, Igris.âÂ
I am. I fucking am.Â
âIâmâIâm cummiââ
Jinwoo stuffs his cock back down my throat with an urgency, hunching over me and fucking my throat like itâs a pussy. His hand snakes down my belly, and his finger barely swipes my pulsing clit. His ghost touch sends me over the edge and I cum so. fucking. hard. My pussy throbs so bad that Igris groans like a dying man and ruts me harder.Â
âOh fuck, baby. Yes.â Jinwoo moans, giving me one brutal thrust before emptying himself down my throat.
He grunts from the bottom of his stomach and he holds me for what feels like an eternity on his pulsating cock before tugging me off of him. I cough and sputter, swallowing between sorry attempts at taking a breath.Â
âGranted.â Jinwoo catches his own breath, and I canât even speak to ask him what heâs allowing Igris to do to me now. He leans down, caressing my face and brushing my sweaty hair away from my pleading eyes. He plants a tender kiss on my ear and as he pulls away he whispers to me.
âIgris wants permission to breed you. Thatâs okay, right darling?â
Jin-woo takes a step back and I call for him with my hoarse voice. But he only grins and uses his stealth to fade into thin air, seemingly leaving me alone with the knight commander Igrisâthe blood red. I feel his metal arm wrap over my chest and his hand grip my shoulder to gain purchase.Â
âI-Igris.â I nervously and directly acknowledge him for the first time in this entire interaction. âPle-aseâŠâÂ
He growls and pulls me off the table and into his hard exterior. My toes cramp from trying to stay on my feet but heâs way too big and I feel myself lifting off the ground. He wraps his other hand around my waist and supports me with ease, fucking me mid-air. I claw at his armour and my legs kick and cross but Iâm trapped in his undying grasp.Â
âHoly shitâŠIgris!â I cry out, frantic. âHold on!â Â
Igrisâs rhythm goes sloppy, and heâs trying to force as much of himself inside me as he possibly can. Heâs trying to kill me, not breed me. A high pitched squeal splits my quivering lips and I kick a little harderâentirely too overwhelmed and overstimulated.Â
âT-Too deep! Youâre too deep!â My tears stream down my cheeks yet my pummeled pussy weeps for more.Â
âYouâre okay, my princess.â Igrisâs deep voice hurls me into my third orgasm and I go limp in his grip, completely dissolving into the pleasure of his cock filling every possible part of me.
He cums with a gruff shout, tightening his arms around me as he stays inside me, stuffing me with cum until Iâm queasy.Â
My vision splits and fades to black and his grip on me fades with it. I hear a hushed sound and feel myself falling. Iâm about to slam into the floor. I brace for impact in my fizzled brain yet I donât feel the hard, cold tile. Rather, a warmth envelopes me, cradling me as I blubber and fail to set any breathing pattern, much less a steady one.
âShh-shh. Breathe. You did so well, baby.â Itâs Jinwooâs voice, cooing at me, and he holds me close to his warm chest. âYou were such a good girl for us.âÂ
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
make a mess; inumaki togeÂ
requested by anon; in which toge overstimulates you with his cursed techniqueÂ
pairing; inumaki toge x readerÂ
genre; smutÂ
warnings; oral sex (fem!receiving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, squirting, use of cursed technique to âforceâ readerâs movements and actions (itâs consensual though)
note; toge is aged up, of course! let me know if i missed anything in the warningsÂ
ââ youâd long since admitted to your lover of your infatuation with his mouth: the markings on the corners, on his tongue, the feeling of him kissing you, a light thrum to it, vibration settling on your own tongue, or the way his lips look, glossy, swollen, wet and pink whenever he pulls back, whenever he wraps them around two of your fingers, suckling, whenever he grins down at your shaking form, quivering beneath him.Â
Keep reading
2K notes
·
View notes