you and jaemin are crammed into one of those tiny, padded music rooms — just you, him, and an upright piano. you were supposed to practice. but now you’re straddling his lap on the bench, your skirt bunched around your hips, your panties tugged to the side, and jaemin’s fingers buried inside you while the faint hum of another student’s violin bleeds through the wall.
you try not to make a sound.
but his fingers are so deep. so slow. so fucking good.
every time he curls them just right, your breath stutters. a small whimper leaves your mouth.
‘keep going,’ he whispers, lips ghosting your jaw.
‘you’re being so quiet for me, baby.’
you clutch at his shoulders. grind down just a little harder. the wet sounds just become louder in the tiny space, and you nearly cry out — only for his other hand to slap over your mouth, fast and firm.
knock knock.
‘jaemin? you almost done in there? i need to rehearse at 3.’
your heart freezes. but his fingers don’t stop.
he just leans in and breathes against your ear:
‘don’t move.’
you whimper under his palm, thighs shaking, hips twitching as he keeps fingering you like you’re not about to die from shame.
‘what time is it?’ he calls out, sounding normal as ever.
‘2:55!’
‘almost done!’
he looks at you with that filthy, cocky grin, like this is the most fun he’s had all day.
‘you heard ‘em baby. we got five minutes.’
your body is trembling. the bench squeaks under you.
his fingers pump faster — they’re soaked, so deep, and his thumb is rubbing your clit in tight circles now and you’re so close—
‘you gonna come for me?’ he whispers.
‘gonna do it with your hand over your mouth like a good little slut?’
you nod helplessly, tears stinging your lashes.
he thrusts his fingers harder, right against that perfect spot.
‘then come. now. quiet.’
you fall apart in his lap — silently, barely breathing, your thighs twitching around him while he milks every second of it. your moan is swallowed into your palm, and your body shudders with the force of trying not to scream.
and then silence.
just your panting.
and the sound of footsteps walking away from the door.
he finally pulls his hand out of you. licks his fingers clean.
a/n: my fav jisung <3 first time i'm writing in months so it might be a bit shabby compared to the usual
mdni! nsfw under the cut
--
blanket's pulled over both of you, and you’re leaned into jisung's side, your thigh resting over his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
and him?
he's dying.
his hoodie sleeves are tugged down over his hands, and he keeps fidgeting; adjusting his glasses, chewing his lip, eyes darting between the movie and the way your body’s pressed into his. you can feel how tense he is, how warm he’s gotten under the blanket, and the second your fingers brush his knee..
he flinches, tenses up. looks down at you. your eyes meet.
--
'you could've said something, you know,'
you slide your hand up, press your palm on him over the fabric of his sweats, and he gasps, hips jerking like he can’t help it.
he bits his lip. 'couldn't,' a sharp inhale. 'didn't wanna ruin it, you looked so comfortable, and-'
his train of thought stops as he looks at you. gosh, you were so, so perfect. and you didn't let him say any more.
when you kiss him, slow, deep, tongue flicking into his mouth with a filthy sigh - his whole body melts. his hands shake as they settle on your hips, his cock twitching beneath you as you grind against it slow and sweet.
his groan is wrecked.
his hands hover like he doesn’t know where to put them. your hips, your thighs, your waist - everything’s too much. you're grinding against him slow and lazy, your lips brushing his jaw, teasing him with every movement like you already know how close he is.
his hands finally find your waist, gripping - tight, but he's careful. he wouldn't want to hurt you, oh no. he kisses you again - deep and wet, your tongue licking into his mouth while your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his sweats and curl around his cock.
he moans so loud he chokes on it, pulling away from the kiss.
his head falls back against the couch as you free him, flushed and leaking against his stomach.
hey! i’m writing to ask if you wanna be friends by any chance? i’m also a Deobi writer and I’m looking for more of us. it’s okay if you don’t want to, i know some people are not here for that. have a great day/night and have fun with writing!!
(i’m gonna dm you if you say you do wanna be friends)
tags: riding, unprotected !! (stay safe), teasing, making out, hickeys
a/n: you know he'd be into doing it dry too..
--
eric’s bed always smelled like him.
a mix of clean laundry, faint cologne, and something warm that was just him. you were tucked under his covers, cocooned in his hoodie and still smiling from the dumb joke he’d cracked earlier.
this was how it always went when you spent the night at his place - lazy conversation, tangled limbs, and teasing that bordered on dangerous.
but tonight? tonight, something felt different.
--
eric had just slid under the covers, his hair damp from a quick shower, the fabric of his worn t-shirt clinging to his chest. he flopped onto his side, facing you, his lips already tugging into that smug grin.
'comfortable?' he asked, his voice soft, teasing.
you rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your foot under the blanket. 'more comfortable than you look.'
'rude,' he muttered, though his grin didn’t falter. his hand snuck out, catching your ankle and giving it a gentle squeeze. 'you’re lucky i like you.'
you scoffed, shifting onto your side to face him. 'oh, please. you’re obsessed with me.'
eric’s brows lifted, the grin widening. 'obsessed?' he scooted closer, his voice dropping. 'careful, babe. words like that might give me ideas.'
your breath hitched when his hand slid higher, his fingers brushing over your calf, then your knee, teasing.
'eric,' you warned, though your voice came out softer than you intended.
'hmm?' his grin only deepened, his hand pausing just above your knee, his dark eyes locking onto yours. 'what’s wrong? too much?'
you glared at him, even as your pulse picked up. 'you’re so annoying.'
'and yet…' his hand crept higher, grazing your thigh now. 'you’re still here.'
your stomach flipped as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple, then lower, just grazing the corner of your mouth. his breath was warm against your skin, his voice dropping to a whisper.
'tell me to stop,' he murmured, his hand still resting on your thigh. 'tell me to stop, and i will.'
but you didn’t want him to stop.
instead, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 'fuck, i love you,' you muttered, pressing your lips to his.
eric groaned softly against your mouth, his hand tightening on your thigh as he deepened the kiss. his body shifted, leaning over you, his weight deliciously warm and solid.
'you’re trouble,' he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with amusement and something darker.
you smirked against his lips, your hands sliding under his shirt, skimming over his warm skin. 'so make it worth it.'
eric growled, low and playful, as he pulled you on top of him, your thighs straddling his hips. his hands found your waist, holding you steady as he looked up at you, his grin now a full-blown smirk.
'you sure about this?' he teased, though his dark eyes betrayed the heat behind his words.
you rolled your hips slightly, testing, drawing a sharp inhale from him. 'what do you think?'
eric’s grip tightened, his head tilting back slightly as a groan escaped his lips. 'i think you’re about to kill me.'
eric’s fingers tightened on your waist as you moved again, rolling your hips against his, testing. the friction was almost too much - not just for him, but for you too.
he groaned softly, his head tilting back against the pillow as he looked up at you with a mix of lust and awe. 'you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?'
your lips curved into a small smirk. 'maybe.'
eric huffed a laugh, though it was strained, his hands sliding up your sides beneath his hoodie - the hoodie you’d stolen from him earlier. his touch was warm, deliberate, his thumbs brushing over bare skin.
'you’re gonna regret teasing me,' he muttered, his voice dropping lower, rougher.
'is that a promise?' you shot back, your confidence spiking as his hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you against him.
his dark eyes flickered with something dangerous, something hungry, and in one swift motion, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him. the feeling of your body on his had you gasping, your hands instinctively gripping into his shoulders.
eric’s lips found yours again, this time more urgent, more desperate. he pulled you up, closer. his teeth grazed your bottom lip, his tongue slipping past as he kissed you deeper, hungrier. his hands roamed, sliding down to your thighs, gripping, squeezing.
'take this off,' he muttered against your lips, tugging at the hem of the hoodie.
you pulled back just enough to comply, lifting the fabric over your head and tossing it aside. his eyes dropped to your bare skin, his breath catching for a moment as his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your ribs.
'fuck,' he muttered, his voice barely audible. 'you’re so fucking perfect.'
heat flooded your cheeks, but before you could respond, eric’s lips were on your neck, kissing, sucking, leaving marks you knew you’d see tomorrow. his hands moved to your waist again, gripping firmly as he lifted you slightly, shifting you into position.
'you’re sure about this?' he murmured, his voice thick, strained, his forehead resting against yours.
you nodded, your voice soft but steady. 'i’ve never been more sure of anything.'
eric exhaled sharply, his hands trembling slightly as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down along with your panties. the air felt cooler against your bare skin, but it didn’t last - his hands were back on you immediately, warm, grounding, possessive.
your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. he helped you pull it off, tossing it to the side before his hands were back on you, pulling you closer. the heat of his skin against yours was almost overwhelming, every point of contact sending sparks down your spine.
eric shifted beneath you, yanking down his shorts, freeing himself, and the sight of him - hard, thick, and so ready - made your stomach twist with anticipation.
he guided you carefully, his hands steady on your hips as you sank down onto him, taking him inch by inch. the stretch was slow, intense, almost too much, and eric’s grip tightened, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips.
'shit,' he muttered, his voice rough, breathless. 'you feel so fucking good.'
your fingers curled into his shoulders as you adjusted, your breath shaky as you finally settled on top of him. the fullness was overwhelming, but the heat in his eyes, the way his hands gripped you like he couldn’t bear to let go, made it impossible to think about anything else.
eric’s hands moved to your thighs, his thumbs brushing slow, soothing circles against your skin. 'take your time,' he murmured, his voice softer now, but no less intense. 'i’ve got you.'
you nodded, your breath hitching out as you began to move, rolling your hips against his. the friction was sharp, electric, and eric’s reaction was immediate - a low groan, his head tilting back onto the pillow as his hands gripped you tighter.
'fuck,' he muttered, his voice strained. 'just like that.'
your confidence grew with every sound he made, every groan, every whisper of your name. you picked up the pace, bouncing on his cock, your movements slow at first but growing more urgent.
eric’s hands guided you, his grip firm as he met your movements, thrusting up into you, deeper, harder. the new feeling had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.
'you’re so good,' he murmured, his voice rough, almost reverent. 'so fucking good for me.'
the praise sent a shiver down your spine, and you leaned forward, your lips finding his in a messy, desperate kiss. his hands slid up your back, holding you close as he thrust into you harder, deeper, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
'i’m- mm, i'm close,' you gasped against his lips, your voice shaky, your body trembling.
eric groaned, his movements never faltering. 'come for me,' he murmured, his voice low, commanding. 'i want to feel you.'
his hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, precise circles. the combination of his touch, his words, and the way he filled you was too much, and your body tensed, the pleasure building until it finally crashed over you.
you cried out, your body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you, your nails digging into eric’s skin as you held onto him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.
eric groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust into you one last time, his own release following seconds later. his body tensed beneath you, his head falling back against the pillow as he let out a low, satisfied groan.
for a moment, neither of you moved, your breaths heavy, uneven, your bodies tangled together.
then, finally, eric’s hands softened on your waist, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your skin as he looked up at you with a small, tired smile.
'you’re gonna be the death of me,' he murmured, his voice soft but laced with affection.
you grinned, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 'worth it?'
eric chuckled, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. 'more than worth it.'
tags: tension tension until he snaps, teasing but damn he's impatient, lots of kissing, pussy eating (omg) begging if u rly squint (he doesnt ask more than once), hes crazy over u
--
the final debate round had been brutal.
not because you were losing - oh, hell no. you and younghoon had been at each other’s throats for years, and today had been no different. the tension between you had crackled like a live wire, every rebuttal sharp, every counterattack laced with a smug smirk or a pointed glare.
he’d leaned against his podium with that infuriating confidence, lips curling into a smirk every time he landed a particularly vicious point. and you had met him word for word, glare for glare, voice steady even as your pulse pounded.
you were used to this. the back-and-forth, the barely-veiled insults, the way his eyes darkened every time you outmaneuvered him.
what you weren’t used to was the way your body reacted when he did it.
the way your breath hitched when he leaned in just a little too close. the way your stomach clenched when his tongue darted out to wet his lips, slow and deliberate. the way his voice - low, smooth, and entirely too cocky - sent something shivering down your spine when he said your name.
and he knew it.
that was the worst part.
because younghoon played dirty — not just in debate, but in this thing between you, this unspoken battle that neither of you dared to name.
and tonight, apparently, he wasn’t done playing.
--
a soft knock at your door jolted you from your half-sleep.
your brows furrowed as you sat up in bed, pulse already kicking up. who the hell is knocking at this hour? you checked the clock. 2:47am.
another knock. quieter this time. more insistent. desperate.
you hesitated, but something in you already knew.
your feet barely made a sound against the plush carpet as you padded toward the door, heart pounding as your fingers wrapped around the handle.
you cracked it open. and there he was.
kim younghoon.
still dressed from earlier, though his blazer was missing, his white dress shirt slightly undone at the collar. his dark hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. and his eyes - sharp, intense - were locked on yours, the usual smugness absent.
no words. just tension. thick. overwhelming.
you noticed the way his eyes drifted around your body, where you were dressed in your pyjamas. he noticed the way they hugged your figure. and he fucking loved it.
'you swallowed hard. 'what the hell are you doing here?'
younghoon exhaled, running a hand through his hair, as if even he wasn’t sure what had brought him here. but then his jaw clenched, and he muttered, 'fuck it.'
then, he was inside.
his hands found your waist, pushing you back into the dimly lit hotel room as he kicked the door shut behind him. you barely had time to react before he had you pressed against the wall, his body close, too close, his breath fanning against your cheek.
'this,' he muttered, voice lower now, rougher. 'you drive me fucking crazy.'
your breath hitched.
younghoon's hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your sleep shorts. his chest rose and fell unevenly, like he was fighting himself - fighting this - even now.
you let out a shaky breath, your own hands lifting, hesitating for only a second before curling into the front of his dress shirt. 'then why are you here?'
his eyes flicked to your lips. back up.
'because i can’t stop thinking about you,' he muttered, almost like it pained him to admit it. 'all day, all the fucking time. and today-” His breath was uneven, his fingers tightening on you. 'i couldn't take it anymore.'
the room felt too hot.
your heart slammed against your ribs as younghoon leaned in, his nose brushing yours, teasing, testing. his lips hovered just above yours, so fucking close, but still, he waited.
you could feel it. the restraint, the last shred of control he was barely hanging onto.
if you told him to stop, he would. but you didn't.
instead, your grip on his shirt tightened, and that was all he needed.
the kiss started soft. but younghoon is impatient. very impatient. and eventually, it grew. weeks, no, months of tension snapping like a rubber band, sharp and desperate. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body solid and warm. he kissed you like he was making up for lost time, like he was claiming something that had been his all along.
a small, breathless sound escaped you, and younghoon groaned, deep in his throat, like he’d been waiting to hear that. his hands moved up, skimming your ribs, pushing beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers pressing into bare skin.
'you're so goddamn frustrating,' he muttered against your lips, voice ragged, punctuated by another bruising kiss. 'always challenging me, always looking at me like you hate me. but it's so fucking cute.'
your breath caught as his teeth grazed your jaw, nipping lightly before his tongue soothed the spot.
'maybe i do,' you managed, even though your grip on him said otherwise.
Younghoon chuckled, a dark, amused sound. His lips brushed your ear. 'no, you don’t.' but he was right.
his fingers curled around your thigh, lifting your leg slightly, pressing closer, letting you feel exactly what you did to him.
and fuck, you were so in trouble.
--
younghoon's breath was heavy against your skin, his grip firm as he held you against the wall, his body pressing into yours like he never wanted to let go.
'you don’t hate me,' he muttered again, this time lower, rougher, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you.
your nails dug into his shirt, fists tightening, like you needed something to anchor yourself to the moment before it swallowed you whole. 'and if i didn't?'
younghoon pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt his head, his eyes flickering over your face, searching, waiting. even now, even with all this tension - his body pressing you into the wall, his breath warm against your skin, his fingers curled into the hem of your shorts - he was still holding back.
'if you didn't?' he looks down at you. 'i might just go fucking mad.'
you met his gaze, something shifting in your expression, something that made his grip tighten, his jaw clench.
with a sharp inhale, he kissed you again, this time deeper, more desperate, like now that he had you, he couldn’t bear to stop. His hands moved, sliding up under your shirt, his fingertips tracing fire across your bare skin.
'fuck,' he exhaled, like he wasn’t even sure how you got here. 'i’ve wanted this for so long. wanted you.'
he pulled you into him again, his lips moving against yours like he was trying to make up for lost time. His tongue flicked against yours, slow, teasing, a direct contradiction to the way his hands gripped your hips, needy.
'you drive me insane,' he muttered against your lips.
'right back at you,' you breathed, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.
younghoon groaned, deep in his throat, the sound vibrating through you as he pressed his body flush against yours. his thigh slotted between yours, pressing just right, and the friction had your breath stuttering.
he felt it. of course he did.
his smirk returned, wicked and knowing, his fingers trailing down your spine as he rolled his hips against you, slow, deliberate.
a small, breathy whimper escaped you before you could stop it. and his control snapped.
in an instant, you were off the wall, your back hitting the mattress before you even had time to process it.
younghoon was on you, his body caging yours in, his weight deliciously heavy. his hands gripped your wrists, pinning them beside your head, his knee sliding between your thighs, spreading you open.
you swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your throat. 'you-'
'i need you,' he muttered, voice thick, desperate, his lips ghosting over yours. 'no more games, no more waiting - i need you.'
younghoon barely gave you time to process before his lips crashed onto yours again, his body pressing you deeper into the mattress. his hands still pinned yours beside your head, his grip firm, possessive.
the way he kissed you wasn’t just desperate. it was frustrated. like he had been holding himself back for far too long, and now that he had you, there was no way in hell he was stopping.
your legs parted instinctively, and he took full advantage, rolling his hips against yours, grinding down just enough for you to feel exactly how hard he was through his slacks. the friction had you gasping against his mouth, your fingers twitching under his hold, needing to touch him, to pull him closer, to lose yourself in him completely.
'you feel that?' he muttered against your lips, rolling his hips again, slower this time, letting you feel every inch of him pressing against you.
your breath caught. 'younghoon-'
he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours for a split second before his lips were on your throat, kissing, sucking, biting. 'say my name again,' he murmured against your skin.
a shiver ran through you. your fingers curled, nails biting into your own palms. 'younghoon.'
his grip on your wrists loosened just enough for you to break free. your hands were on him instantly - his shoulders, his back, tugging at his shirt, needing it gone.
younghoon sat up just enough to yank it over his head, his movements hurried, rough. the second it was off, your hands roamed, feeling the heat of his skin, the definition of his body.
you had spent so long competing against him, pushing back against him, trying to outmaneuver him. and now?
now, he was on top of you. half-undressed. breathless. wanting.
and god, you wanted him just as badly.
his lips crashed back onto yours as his hands traveled down your body, pushing your shirt up, pulling your shorts down. you didn’t stop him. not when his fingers skimmed over bare skin, not when his hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open for him again.
then, he froze.
not because he wanted to stop - oh, no.
because he wanted to see.
his breath hitched as his gaze trailed down, taking you in. his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, his eyes dark with hunger.
'fuck,' he muttered, almost like he wasn’t supposed to say it out loud. his fingers traced along the inside of your thigh, teasing, not yet touching where you needed him most. 'you're so..'
he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. 'you don't have a fucking clue what you do to me.'
then, he finally touched you.
his fingers slid between your folds, finding just how wet you already were. he let out a low, satisfied hum, cocky, knowing. 'this all for me?'
you swallowed, your breath unsteady. 'who else would it be for?'
his head snapped up. his eyes locked into yours.
and then he snapped.
one second, his fingers were teasing. the next, they were inside you, pushing deep, stretching you open, curling just right. your back arched off the mattress, a sharp gasp escaping before you could stop it.
younghoon groaned at the sight, his free hand gripping your hip. 'that’s it,' he murmured, watching you, memorizing every reaction. 'let me hear you.'
he moved his fingers - slow at first, deliberate, drawing out every ounce of tension you had built up for him.
his name slipped from your lips again, and he lost it.
his fingers sped up, thrusting deeper, faster, working you open for him. his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight, precise circles, the combination sending a fresh wave of heat rolling through you.
'you’re so fucking tight,' he muttered, his voice rough. 'how the hell am i supposed to fit in you?'
your breath hitched. 'then-' you swallowed hard, barely able to form words between gasps. 'then maybe you should get me ready.'
younghoon froze.
then, he chuckled.
'oh, sweetheart,' he murmured, his fingers moving again, this time slower, teasing. 'you have no idea what you just asked for.'
he withdrew his fingers suddenly, leaving you aching, empty - only to replace them with his tongue.
a sharp moan tore from your lips as his mouth latched onto your clit, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you down as he devoured you.
it was messy, wet, relentless. his tongue flicked, teased, licked you open before diving deeper, his nose pressed against you, his groans vibrating through you.
'you taste so fucking sweet,' he muttered against your heat, voice dripping with lust.
you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, your fingers tangling into his hair, pulling, desperate.
'please,' you gasped, not even sure what you were begging for anymore.
younghoon groaned, gripping your thighs tighter. 'say it again.'
you whimpered. 'please.'
his tongue moved faster, fingers joining again, thrusting deep, curling just right.
your body tensed, coiled, ready to snap.
'come on, sweetheart,' he muttered against you. 'come for me.'
and you did.
the orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, sharp and shattering, leaving you trembling, gasping, gripping his hair like you’d fall apart otherwise.
younghoon groaned as he felt it - felt you clenching around his fingers, felt your body losing control beneath him.
and when he finally pulled back, his lips were glistening with your release, his dark eyes locked onto yours as he licked them clean.
'good girl,' he muttered, voice thick with satisfaction.
but then, he leaned over you again, his cock pressing against your thigh, heavy, hot, demanding.
a/n: wrote this at 11:45pm on juyeon day so it still counts
the sunlight poured through the thin curtains in soft, golden streaks, casting lazy patterns across the room. the world outside was slowly stirring awake, but in juyeon's apartment, time seemed to stand still. wrapped in blankets, warmth, and something infinitely softer than either - the feeling of her in his arms - he felt like he had everything he could ever need.
her head was tucked under his chin, her hair tickling his jawline. he didn’t mind. the faint scent of her shampoo - something floral and sweet - lingered in the air. his hand rested lightly on the curve of her waist, fingers absently tracing slow, thoughtless patterns over the fabric of her oversized hoodie. it was his hoodie, actually, but it had looked so much better on her that it ever had on him.
juyeon opened his eyes reluctantly, blinking against the morning light. the room was quiet, save for the sound of their breathing and the occasional rustle of the sheets as she shifted closer. he felt her foot nudge against his calf - cold, but to him it was the warmest feeling ever. a sleepy little hum escaped her lips as she nestled deeper into his chest, and he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.
'you're awake,' he mumbled, his voice muffled and laced with love.
'mm.. not really.' she murmered back, her voice soft, but thick with sleep. he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair. 'you okay?'
'too comfy to move.' she replied, her words stretching out in a yawn. she tilted her head up slightly, her cheek brushing against his collarbone as she squinted at him through half-lidded eyes. and the way he looked down at her, oh baby, that was love love.
juyeon thought for the hundredth, no, thousandth time that she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.
'stay like this forever?' she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
juyeon's heart may have skipped a beat at the simple question. he tightened his hold on her slightly, resting his chin on her head. 'forever.' he promised.
as she smiled softly, closing her eyes and settling against him once more, juyeon decided that this was his favourite version of forever - her in his arms, the world quiet and still, and the sunlight wrapping them up in its gentle embrace.
tags: reader hates sunwoo, sunwoo's a hopeless pervert and needs to fuck you, choking if u squint, alcohol consumption (everything consensual), hickeys but they aren't mentioned, overstimulation, p in v, unprotected (stay safe), semi-public fucking, VERY filthy words from him, name-calling (baby, sweetheart then filth like slut) and he's rough.
a/n: have lost my mind officially. this is not proofread!
--
the party is too loud, too crowded, too suffocating with heat and flashing lights. you shouldn't have come. but staying home wasn’t an option, not when your friends dragged you out, claiming you needed this.
what you didn’t need was him.
sunwoo.
he’s leaning against the bar, some girl laughing at whatever bullshit he’s feeding her. he’s got that lazy smirk, the one that makes your stomach twist, the one that says he knows exactly what he’s doing.
and then his eyes find yours. your pulse jumps before you can stop it his smirk deepens. fuck. you turn away. but you know it doesn’t matter. sunwoo never lets you ignore him.
you can feel him, even before he’s there. the heat of him at your back, the way the air shifts, how his presence wraps around you like a slow - burning fuse.
'wearing this just to piss me off, sweetheart?' his voice drags down your spine like a touch, warm and teasing.
you don’t turn. 'don't flatter yourself.'
he chuckles, and you hate that it makes your skin prickle. 'too late.'
what did that mean? a cold sweat pricks at the back of your neck. ugh, you hate him.
his fingers brush your hip, so light you might imagine it. you stiffen, but don’t move. 'you’re acting like you don’t feel it, too,' he says, voice just this side of smug.
you do. and you hate that you do.
you turn around, and glare at his smug ass face. looking fine as ever under the dim coloured lights of the party. fuck. you raise a hand, threatening to slap him.
he chuckles, low and dark. 'do it. bet that pretty little hand of yours would feel so good on my face.'
--
all night, he toys with you. lingering glances, teasing smirks, hands brushing too close, breath against your neck when he leans in just to piss you off. he murmurs filth in your ear just to see how long it takes for you to snap.
by the time he finally grabs you, you’re already burning.
one second, you’re throwing him a glare. the next, his fingers are curling around your wrist, and he’s pulling you through the crowd, past the pulsing music, past the drunken, grinding bodies.
no words. just him. just the heat in his eyes when he finds an empty hallway, shoves you onto the wall, and backs you against it.
'you’ve been pissing me off all night,' he mutters, voice rough.
'me?' you scoff, breath uneven.
sunwoo’s fingers slide up your jaw, tilting your face up so you have to look at him. his pupils are blown, his chest rising and falling like he’s been holding this in for too long.
'yeah. you. acting like you don’t want this.'
'i don’t,' you lie, but your body betrays you.
his lips quirk into that same infuriating smirk that makes your blood boil. 'then tell me to stop.'
you don’t.
so he kisses you.
it’s not soft. it’s not careful. it’s desperate—all frustration and heat, all the tension that’s been clawing at him since the moment he saw you. his hands grip your hips, pulling you into him, and you can feel him, hard against you, like he’s been aching for this just as much as you have.
your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just to hear the groan he lets out. his hands slide down to your waist, his grip almost bruising. he pulls back, his lips covered in your saliva. 'fuck..' he growls. he frantically looks around the hallway and sees a door. ajar. his hands find your wrist and drag you to the room, slamming it shut and locking it behind the two of you.
he slams you against the wall next to the door, his face centimetres away, his nose almost touching yours. his eyes are hooded. he can't take it anymore.
he needs you. now.
'fuck,' he mutters again, hands gripping your waist, fingers digging into your skin like he’s been starving for this. 'you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted this.'
you hate how good he feels. how solid, how warm, how fucking there.
your nails drag down his arms, frustration burning through your veins. you can feel him—thick and hard through his jeans, pressing right against your core.
'you’re such a-' he cuts you off with his mouth, swallowing whatever insult was about to spill out. it’s messy, heated, all tongue and teeth, all the pent-up frustration from hours of bickering, teasing, denying.
his hands slip under your skirt, rough palms trailing up your thighs, fingertips dragging over the edge of your panties.
'shit,' he groans against your lips. 'you’re so wet for me, aren’t you?'
'shut up.'
his smirk is pure sin. 'nah. you like my mouth too much for that.'
his fingers push aside the lace, dragging through your slick folds, teasing you slow, lazy, just to piss you off. you take a shaky breath as his fingers made contact with your bare heat, your nails digging into his shoulder.
'you can act like you hate me all you want,' he murmurs, lips brushing your jaw. 'but this?' he circles your clit with his thumb, just enough pressure to make you gasp. 'this pretty little pussy tells me the truth.'
your head falls back against the wall, a curse slipping past your lips. his mouth is everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, nipping, licking, leaving heat in his wake.
'sunwoo,' you gasp, grabbing at his bicep, but he just smirks.
'shut up. you know you don’t want me to stop.'
you don’t. and you fucking hate him for it.
but not as much as you hate how good he makes you feel. his fingers slip inside, two stretching you open with an ease that makes you shudder. 'so fucking tight,' he groans. 'bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock, shit.'
you bury your head in his shoulder, dragging your nails down his back just to hear him curse. 'you talk too much,' you pant, grinding down against his hand.
his grin is wicked, fingers curling inside you just right. "and you fucking love it."
he’s right. and you’re too far gone to deny it.
--
his fingers work you open, slow and deliberate, his other hand gripping your thigh to keep you pinned against the wall. 'look at you,' he murmurs, watching the way your body moves against his hand, how your hips chase his touch. 'needy little thing. guess all that attitude was just a front, huh?'
'fuck you,' you spit, but it comes out breathy, desperate.
sunwoo laughs, dark and low, his teeth grazing your throat. 'you wish, baby.'
he pulls his fingers out of you, and you barely have time to whine at the loss before he's dragging them up, pressing them past your lips.
'taste yourself.' god, he's so dirty. and you'd be lying to say if you didn't love it. the demand is filthy, and fuck, you should refuse, but you don’t. you let him push his fingers onto your tongue, let the taste of yourself mix with the heat of his skin.
his jaw clenches. 'god, you’re so hot.'
before you can throw some remark back, he’s moving - grabbing your wrist, spinning you around, pressing your front against the wall. his body is flush against your back, his hands greedy as they drag down your sides, gripping your ass, pulling you back against his cock. you whimper softly as he presses into you, barely having enough time to steady yourself against the wall.
'you feel that?' he grinds against you, slow and teasing. 'that’s what you do to me. fuck, i’ve been hard all fucking night, watching you, knowing you’d end up here, whining for me.'
then you hear it—the sound of his belt unbuckling, the rasp of his zipper. your pulse hammers.
'say it,' he murmurs, voice like gravel. 'tell me how bad you want it.'
you hate him. you hate how smug he sounds, how cocky, how he already knows.
and you hate needing him more.
'sunwoo,' you whisper, pressing back against him. 'just do it.'
sunwoo groans softly, dragging his cock through your slick folds, teasing, just barely pushing in. 'say it.'
you don't want to say it. but you do.
'please..'
and that's all he needed to hear.'
he pushes into you in one slow, deep stroke, stretching you open, making you gasp as your hands scramble for purchase against the wall.
'shit,' he curses, voice wrecked. 'so fucking tight. you feel that? feel how good you take me?'
you can’t speak, you can barely breathe. he fills you completely, his cock thick and heavy inside you, stealing every thought from your head.
'fuck, baby,' he groans, dragging his lips up the back of your neck. 'you hate me, huh? hate me so much you’re dripping all over my cock?'
you whimper, nails scraping the wall. he pulls out almost completely, then slams back in, setting a brutal pace, each thrust knocking the air from your lungs.
'listen to you,' he grits out, snapping his hips harder. 'moaning like a slut for the guy you fucking hate.'
your body betrays you, pushing back to meet him, desperate for more. his fingers snake around your throat, pulling you back against him, forcing you to arch.
'feels good, doesn’t it?' he whispers against your ear. 'letting me fuck you like this. finally giving in.'
your moans are strangled, broken. he’s too deep, too good, ruining you from the inside out.
'you’re mine for now, baby,' he growls, his hand slipping between your legs, rubbing tight circles over your clit. 'fuck who you thought you were before this. right now, you’re just a messy little thing who needs my cock.'
you don’t argue. you can’t. not when the knot in your stomach is building, threatening to snap. not when every thrust sends you higher.
sunwoo feels it—the way your body tightens around him, how your legs tremble, how your breath catches like you’re right on the edge. his grip tightens around your throat, his other hand working your clit mercilessly. 'that’s it,' he rasps, his lips brushing your ear, his cock pounding into you harder, deeper.
'you’re about to cum, aren’t you? gonna fall apart on my cock like a good little slut?'
you whimper, your knees almost giving out, but sunwoo holds you up, forces you to take every brutal, punishing thrust. 'say it.'
'fuck, yes, i-'
you don’t even finish before it slams into you. heat floods your body, white-hot pleasure bursting through you like a live wire. your walls clamp down around him, squeezing him so tight you hear his sharp intake of breath, his grip going almost bruising on your hips.
'shit,' he curses, his rhythm faltering as your body spasms around him. 'that’s it- god, you’re so fucking tight when you cum.'
he doesn’t slow down. doesn’t let you breathe. he drives into you, fucking you through your orgasm, dragging it out until you're nothing but a shaking, incoherent mess against the wall.
'look at you,' he groans, voice thick with something dark and possessive. 'still taking me so well, still so desperate.'
your head drops, your body completely pliant in his hands. you feel his breath against your skin, harsh and uneven, his pace turning erratic. he's close.
his hand slides down your belly, presses against the bulge where he’s buried so fucking deep inside you. 'you can feel it in your tummy, can't you, baby?'
his hips slam forward, grinding into you, making you feel every inch of him. your body twitches, overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop.
'you want me to fill you up, don’t you?' he groans, his hand tangling in your hair, yanking your head back so he can bite down on your throat. 'want me to ruin you, make sure you’re dripping with me when you walk out of this room?'
you can’t speak. you can only whimper, nod, barely able to keep standing as he pounds into you like he’s trying to break you.
'f-fuck.' he grunts. his hands tighten on you - one gripping your hip, the other pressing against your stomach as he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt.
then he breaks.
his groan is wrecked, guttural, as he spills inside you, his body shuddering, his lips parted against your neck. you feel it. hot, thick, filling you up, his cock twitching deep inside as he rides out his high.
the room is heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, both of you breathing hard, bodies slick and tangled.
for a moment, neither of you move.
then sunwoo chuckles, breathless, pressing a lazy kiss to the back of your shoulder. 'shit,' he murmurs, voice rough, spent. 'you still hate me, baby?'
you’re too fucked-out to even respond.
he grins against your neck. 'don’t worry, baby. we can work on that.'
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