Il Profumo Dei Fiori @ilprofumodeifiori - Tumblr Blog

Red wine

˙⋆✮ CW: smut, explicit sexual content, graphic description of sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), pussydrunk!hyunjin, idol!hyunjin, softdom!hyunjin, light bondage, cursing, use of alcohol, explicit language, very romantic ending, fluff, slightly angst MDNI!!!

summary: Hyunjin, flies 15 hours to appear unannounced at your door, saying he wanted to see his friend. You try to push him away but after a bottle of wine, you two end with you tied up in your room. .·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

«You should put that bottle down before the situation gets worse.» He warns me again, keeping that usual smirk on her face. It irritates me to no end when she acts like that.

«Do I need to remind you who showed up at my door with two bottles of wine?» I retort, a little sharply, as I fill my glass halfway again.

I place the nearly empty bottle on the table and bring the glass to my lips. I gulp down a generous sip of this Quintarelli. A bottle of this wine costs about 700 euros, making it one of the most expensive and best Italian wines ever.

«I came to visit you, it seemed proper to bring something.» He replies with that usual arrogant air he adopts every time he wants to put me on the spot.

«I think you just wanted to act like a cazzone, to show off that you came here with a thousand euros worth of wine in your hands. Do you enjoy highlighting the difference between us that much?» I answer, a bit more resentfully this time. My head feels so light it seems to have turned into a balloon, but I still try to maintain some composure—I won't give him any more satisfaction tonight. My expression of dismay when I opened the door and found him there was enough.

«You know, it's not nice to insult me in a language I don't understand, right?» He chuckles, taking a sip of his own glass content. The jerk has drunk much less than me; I'm certain he's still perfectly sober, and that annoys me. He annoys me.

«I'm sorry, but there isn't a proper translation for many of the insults you deserve.» I flash him a fake smile as I walk around the table, putting some distance between us.

«I'll seriously have to take an accelerated Italian course then.»

His lips touch the rim of the goblet once more. He slowly takes a sip, and in performing that movement, in a simple apartment, in a simple neighborhood, with a simple person, he looks painfully elegant, like a real prince.

It’s so irritating to see how every tiny gesture of his is so calculated, refined, composed. It all feels so out of place, so surreal.

«Can you explain why you're here?» I ask, feeling the nervousness grow in my stomach.

«You know I really love Italy, I'd like to buy a house here, spend my free summers in it.» He daydreams with a sincere smile on his face, gesturing with the glass.

«No, don't beat about the bush. Why are you here? Here, in my small apartment, in this cursed corner of the suburbs. Why?» Perhaps I asked that question with too much anger, but I don't care. The wine doesn't care.

«What do you mean? Why shouldn't I be here?» A frown appears on his face; he seems genuinely confused, taken aback by the question.

«Oh, come on. Stop playing dumb, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You could be anywhere, at any trendy club, with any woman, man, or whoever you prefer. But you're here. Do you understand why that makes no sense?»

«For someone who’s drunk, your dialectic skills are really impressive.»

«I'm not drunk. I'm tipsy. And don't you dare try to shift the focus onto me. I asked you a question. What are you doing here, Hyunjin?»

This time I'm deadly serious, and he seems to finally understand. He gets up from the chair and approaches me, stopping two steps away. I hate that he's so much taller than me. I hate the way I feel when he looks at me with those damn piercing eyes.

«You're my friend. I think it's pretty normal to spend time with your friends.» He shrugs, maintaining a composed demeanor, despite his tone dropping drastically. I hate the fact that he can keep his eyes fixed on mine without wavering.

«I'm not your friend. You are who you are, and I'm closer to being no one than someone.» I take a step back; my head is spinning, and I can't distinguish the cause: the wine or his closeness.

«Are you always so hard on yourself? You shouldn't be; it's not good for you.» He takes another step forward, leaning towards me again, looking concerned.

«Stop it. Stop doing that.»

«Doing what?»

«Behaving as if you genuinely care about me, about my life. Our meeting happened because you're an idol, and I appreciate what you do. You saw me at a couple of events recently, you got curious, you wanted to try feeling ordinary for once, and we ended up playing the part of little friends. But we're not. Your world is not mine.»

I throw down the rest of my drink and step away from him one more time, as my head starts to swim a little. "Deep breaths, a glass of water, and I'll sober up." I keep repeating to myself as the room around me blurs.

«Explain to me why you're being such a bitch? Do you think someone flies for 15 hours for someone they don't care about? Or do you think I did it because I was bored?»

After putting down my glass and grabbing a bottle of water to take a few sips, I turn to face him; he's followed me into the kitchen.

«I'm a bitch now?» I point to myself while letting out a hysterical giggle. «Where are your good manners gone, huh?»

«I'm trying to be nice to you; I call you often, I came to visit you, I'm here with you. What's wrong with it?» This time I catch exasperation in his expression, and it makes my stomach clench. I can't let him in, I just can't.

«I didn't ask you to come here.» I retort coldly, hoping it’s enough to offend him and make him walk out that damn door before it hurts too much.

«You know what? You can pretend to be a bitch all you want, but I know what you're like. I see you, I see under that armor you've built around yourself. We're too similar for me to be fooled by your words.»

His gaze pins mine, and for the first time since he crossed the threshold, I hesitate.

I can't answer him. I want to tell him to go away, that I don't need a friend who lives on the other side of the world. I want to tell him I hate his messages where he tells me about his day. I want to tell him I hate his face because it torments me in every dream I have at night. But I can't, because it's not true.

I don't hate him. I hate everything around him, but I don't hate him. No one could ever, because he is such a beautiful person that it is difficult to explain in words.

«You need to leave.» My voice threatens to crack, but I have to do this.

He takes another step towards me, and this time a shiver runs down my spine. Why is he so damn handsome? Why does he feel so familiar?

«No. I'm not leaving.» He asserts confidently.

«Please, Hyunjin. Go away.» This time my voice betrays me, it trembles. I feel a lump tightening in my throat, and I do everything not to let him realize it, not to let him know I only wish he'd stay here, with me.

«No.» Another step, and now we are only a few centimeters apart. His warm breath brushes my face, and I feel my head spin faster and faster.

«We can't be friends; I'm sorry you came all this way, but now you have to go.» I can't look at him, so I stare at his shoes, praying to see them disappear from my sight in the next few seconds. But he has no intention of moving.

His hand gently cups my face, lifting it so our eyes meet.

My stomach clenches again, my breath hitches as I let my gaze wander over every detail of his face.

«Forget the friendship bullshit. I absolutely don’t want to be your friend.» His voice is hoarse, low, and I can't ignore the wave of heat it unleashes in my body.

Before I can process it, his lips crash onto mine. The hand still grasping my face slides into my hair, pulling it down to lift my face higher. Totally incapable of stopping him, I clutch my hands to his shoulders and return the kiss with all the fervor I can muster. The number of times I've imagined this moment is certainly and totally disrespectful.

His tongue delves into my mouth without much ceremony, stroking mine with force and decision. He knows exactly what he's doing and is aware of the effect he has on me. His free arm wraps around my waist, supporting me and pushing me against his body. My brain starts to shut down when, pressing against him, I feel a bulge in his pants. Unable to control it, I let out a moan, right onto his lips.

The only thing I can think about is that I want him to take me here, without even making it to my bedroom. I would surrender here, on the floor, to let myself be consumed.

We separate just enough to catch our breath, his lips travel down my neck, leaving bites and kisses with extreme dedication and sweetness.

«Do you still want me to leave?» He asks with a knowing tone before sinking his teeth into my shoulder, eliciting another moan from me.

«Don't you dare.» I reply before grabbing his face in my hands to bring my lips back to his. I sink my teeth into his lower lip and pull it towards me slightly.

«That’s it.» He grabs my hand and pulls me with him into the living room to retrieve the second, still full, bottle of wine.

I am completely disoriented by the way he moves around my house with extreme ease. He seems so self-assured, so comfortable.

My gaze falls on his pants, and I realize how aroused he actually is. And that he’s probably well-endowed too. I let out an amused laugh, because when I’m sober, I would never make such comments, not even in my head.

«What's so funny, darling?» He asks me, with extreme tenderness, in stark contrast to what his body is expressing.

«When I'm tipsy, I tend to become more... daring? We can say that.» I smile while staring at the way he manages to hold both goblets and the bottle with just one hand. Who knows what else he can do with those hands.

The next moment, before I can even realize it, my back is completely glued to one of the living room’s wall, his body is pressing against mine, and his face is too close for me to think clearly.

«You don't need to hide the thoughts crossing your pretty little mind; your eyes betray you. Do you think I didn't notice the glances you've been giving me since you opened the door? And I'm quite sure you were still sober, weren't you?»

My breath hitches when I feel his knee place itself between my legs and apply light pressure. It's embarrassing because I'm already very sensitive, and he basically hasn't done anything yet.

I feel the fabric of my underwear wet and soak when, with another movement, he creates a slight friction between us.

«Hyunjin...» I whisper his name like a prayer, hoping he'll grant my every darkest wish.

«Take me to your room.» At that point, he breaks contact, and with my legs trembling, I drag him into my bedroom.

I watch him set the goblets and wine on the nightstand and finally turn his gaze toward me. I stand still, anxiously awaiting his next move. We stare intently at each other for several moments, as if we were both waiting for some sort of consent from the other. When his hand grabs my hip, pushing me against him, a groan escapes my lips, and the next moment, his mouth is devouring mine again.

I clutch my fingers at the edges of Hyunjin's white shirt, pulling them so hard that all the buttons pop off. I hear him groan at the gesture, while he is also working to get off the shorts and top I'm wearing as typical home attire.

I reach for the button of his jeans, but just as I'm about to unfasten it, his hands move mine away.

«Not yet. Lie down.»

His imperative tone completely shut down my brain. I want to react, rip his pants off, and throw him onto the bed, but I can't. I can't talk back. I nod like a poor fool and lie down in the center of the bed, completely naked.

His eyes scan my entire body with a hungry gaze, like a lion ready to devour its prey. I feel exactly like that, a prey.

I watch him move confidently towards the closet to open it and start looking for something.

«Hyunie? What are you doing?» I ask, in a voice so subdued that it makes me furious. What has this man done to me that's so profound that I can't even speak properly?

«Hyunie? God, it makes me want to fuck you to senseless even more.»

His voice literally makes my body vibrate, and another wave of wetness runs between my legs, which I squeeze, hoping to alleviate the almost painful need to be touched.

Shortly after, he closes the closet doors and walks toward me, with 4 scarves in his hands.

Shit. He joins me on the bed, coming close to my face to leave a quick, simple kiss on my lips. With his hand, he strokes my left shoulder, tracing down my arm until he grabs my hand.

«May I?» He asks solemnly, pointing to one of the scarves. I nod my head, without stopping looking into his eyes.

At that point, the fabric encircles my wrist and the other end is subsequently tied to the headboard. He repeats the same procedure with my right wrist. The same for my ankles, ensuring I am completely exposed under his hungry eyes.

«Are you comfortable?»

I nod again while continuing to observe every single movement he makes. He gets up from the bed and fills both goblets with wine. He takes his glass and drinks a couple of sips before approaching my lips. I kiss him without a second thought, and when I separate my lips, the wine slides down my throat. My first instinct is to close my legs after feeling a surge of heat cross my core.

Hyunjin repeats the same motion, making me drink again from his mouth. I want to hold him, pull him onto me, and beg him to take me. But I won't give him the satisfaction, not more than I already did.

«You know, I thought for a long time about which wine was most suitable for the occasion. Obviously, I wanted something special, but I needed to find one with the most suitable aroma to taste on your skin.» He explains slowly as he pours the content of the glass along the valley of my breasts, down to my navel.

What a massive jerk.

«So, you knocked on my door with the intention of fucking me? Very gallant of you.»

«Stop with the surprised attitude; you've been fantasizing about me since the first time you saw me, don't lie to yourself.» He dismisses it all, just before lowering his lips to my neck and beginning to suck on my skin, along with the droplets of wine.

My skin is tremendously sensitive; every little touch sends a direct burst of heat between my legs.

«If I were you, I wouldn't be so sure; in such a large group, it's not so obvious that my attention was for you. Maybe I fantasized about someone else, maybe I just happened to meet you first. That’s all.» I retort, trying to make him waver as his lips have now reached my belly.

«But who are you in front of with your legs wide open, so wet that you've already soaked the sheets before I even touched you?»

Before I can respond further, his face sinks between my legs, to circle my clitoris with his lips.

«Cazzo.»

I hear him chuckle at my curse, and it sends a vibration straight to my pussy. His tongue begins to move slowly on my clitoris, while his hands are firmly anchored on my thighs, keeping them pinned down the mattress.

I try to close them, even though the scarves prevent me. It's been too long since someone touched me like this; I'm so sensitive that I'm already close to the climax.

The lapping continues, slow and agonizing, as a familiar heat begins to grow in my lower abdomen. I start calling his name repeatedly, and before I can even warn him, the orgasm overwhelms me like a runaway train, along with a wave of pleasure that manifests with a small jet that wets part of his face. Didi

«I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I couldn't warn you.» I immediately regret what just happened, but there's everything but annoyance in his gaze. He wipes a hand across his face and moves closer to mine, kissing me passionately.

«Don’t you dare apologize for squirting on my face, fuck; it's beautiful. It makes me realize how much you like my touch. I'm curious to know how many times I can make you explode like this.» He whispers right in my mouth, leaving me speechless once more. The next moment, his head is between my legs again, ready to attack my clitoris with his tongue again. Still sensitive from the previous orgasm, I start to squirm, without success.

«Hyunie, too much, please.»

«That’s a lie - he pauses for a moment to look at my face - you're close again, I can feel it. You're swollen and you keep dripping onto my tongue. Come again, let me drink more, because you taste better than the damn wine.» Having said that, he plunges his mouth onto me again, with slow but decisive movements, bringing me to the climax again, letting a second orgasm overwhelm me within minutes.

I think he must be satisfied, but he's not. He keeps going, again and again. At the fifth orgasm, reached only due to his mouth, I beg him to stop.

My legs are trembling, as is the rest of my body, while my eyes are full of tears from too much pleasure.

«Please, stop. My head is spinning, free me, please.»

This time he understands that I'm not kidding at all and hurries to untie the knots.

I cover my body with the sheet and try to take deep breaths to recover. Hyunjin moves away and comes back with a glass of water in his hands, which he gently offers me.

«I went too far, I'm sorry.»

«It's nothing, just too much wine, and too much pleasure to handle.» I admit with a smile, as he sits down next to me on the bed.

We both lie down, side by side, and remain silent for a while, until he speaks again.

«I didn't come just to have my way with you. I thought about it, sure. But I just wanted to see you and spend time with you. To understand if there really could be something or if it was all just in my head.»

I don't say anything, I take a few minutes to analyze those words.

I decide to pluck up the courage too and be honest.

«I didn't want you to leave, I didn't seriously want to push you away. I'm afraid of the difference between our lives, and when I saw you on the doorstep, I panicked. I thought that sex could solve everything, you know, you scratch the itch. But I realized that, as beautiful and exciting as it is, I don't want to have sex with you.»

«That's a sucker punch to a man's ego.» He laughs, quite amused.

«I don't wanna have sex and think that everything comes down to that. I don't want to see you walk out the door after a night of passion with the awareness that it was the first and the last time. I'm not like that. I can try, but I'm sure I'd feel bad afterward. Because sex is not an end in itself, not for me at least. It's an act, but also a point of arrival, the moment when two people decide to show their vulnerability. A moment where you connect. I know that for many people this is a romance novel kind of thinking, but I can't help it. I prefer not to have men in my bed rather than feeling empty after a quick lay for fun.»

«That's a beautiful thing you said. The way you view sex, I understand it. For you, it's a way to validate the relationship you have with a person, and if you share nothing with that person except pure physical pleasure, you prefer not to have them.»

«Exactly.»

«So you don't want to sleep with me because it wouldn't mean anything.»

I shake my head at his idiotic statement.

«You didn't understand a thing.» I sit up just enough to look him in the face. «I don't want to sleep with you because I don't want it to be just sex. For me, it would never be just sex, not with you. I don't want to suffer, Hyun. What has happened so far has probably already messed up all my good intentions. But I don't want to make things harder for myself.»

His eyes light up, his hand reaches out to caress my face, and all my barriers begin to crumble, melting like snow in the sun.

«I told you before, didn't I? That we're too similar for your words to mislead me.»

«I'm not kidding. I don't want to have sex.» I insist, even though I feel my body being drawn by an invisible energy that pushes me towards him.

«Then make love to me.» He states confidently. «If I set foot here, it's because I intend to have you in my life, not for a wild night. I want you. I want to see you wander around the house with a glass of wine in your hand while humming or dancing to something. I want to see you blush when I look you straight in the eyes and you struggle to meet my gaze. I want to see you cum for me because only I make you feel this good. I want to see you writhe on the bed while screaming my name. I want to shower with you, cook with you, draw for you. I want you, and I mean the whole package.»

Tears stream down my eyes; I can't believe the words I just heard, and I can't believe he genuinely means them, but he does. His eyes are crystal clear, pure. And I am helpless under them, because they completely annihilate me.

«But you live on the other side of the world. I don't work well with long-distance relationships. I would miss you all the time; I would feel like I'm dying day by day.»

«I know, I know. I would miss you too, like air. But I'm too selfish not to ask you. Maybe just at the beginning, then I would take you away from here. I'm asking you to change everything, to change your life, I realize that. But I want you, I— I need you too much.»

I prepare to kiss him, with need, but calmly. I place my palms on his cheeks and deepen the kiss, as his hand sinks into my hair, pulling my head closer. I flatten myself against his body and continue to move my tongue on his, in a slow and passionate dance. We begin to press against each other, my breast crushing against his chest while our legs intertwine. When we separate, we are both lost.

«I want you too, more than anything else. I would go to the ends of the earth if it meant being close to you.»

He kisses me again, his hands delicately caress my cheeks, while his body gently lowers onto mine.

A few moments later, his pants and boxers come off. This guy really must have been sculpted on Mount Olympus. We kiss again, while our hands wander over the rest of the other's body, leaving various caresses on their skin. We can't stop; we are both desperate, trying to cling to the other as if being this close wasn't enough.

«I want you closer.» I whisper on his mouth.

«Me too, me too, y/n. I wish I could pass through your skin to feel you even more.»

After one last anxious glance, I thrust my hips toward his, and in response, he slides into me, effortlessly. We both let out a muffled groan.

Feeling him inside me makes my legs tremble. Not for the mere pleasure of the flesh, but for the extreme closeness of our bodies. He remains still for a while, giving me the necessary time to adjust to the size of his member. I feel my walls repeatedly clench around him, who has meanwhile rested his forehead against mine.

«You're— you're—»

«I know, I'm sorry.»

«You don't have to apologize— Jesus Christ. Am I hurting you?»

«No, I'm fine, I'm fine.»

His lips rest on my nose, my cheeks, my forehead, and I feel tears cloud my eyes.

I let my fingers intertwine in his hair and kiss him again, with passion, while pushing my hips upward, giving him the confirmation he was waiting for.

I grip my hands on his back as he starts to move. He almost completely exits and dive back into me, letting out a groan that makes me contract even harder. I arch my back, exposing my chest and neck when he hits a particularly sensitive spot on only the second thrust. I've never felt anything like this.

My whimpers encourage him to increase the rhythm, and I can't hold back my voice.

«You're beautiful.» He whispers with difficulty between a groan and a moan. I love the way he manages to be sweet even while driving into me like this.

«You— You're beautiful.» I hug him tightly and cry, cry because I truly believe I have the love of my life in my hands. We have spent the last few months talking every day; he has shown himself to be exactly the boy full of love for life that I expected, and I ended up falling in love with him. I shouldn't have, yet I can't help it.

«Don't do that. Please don't cry.» Yet, even his voice breaks, it trembles, and then I can't hold back anymore; even though I'm afraid of ruining everything, I have to tell him, I have to tell him while we are united, while we are vulnerable enough to be completely honest with each other.

«I— I love you. I'm sorry. I love you, I really love you.»

His movements stop; I can feel him twitching inside me. His hand searches for one of mine to intertwine with his and brings it to his lips. He places a kiss on it, and then I realize that he is crying too.

«Can— Can you tell me again? Look into my eyes and tell me again, please.»

«I love you, Hyunjin.»

«God, what have I done to deserve the love of such a sweet, such a special woman.» His hips rotates back toward mine, slowly, almost agonizingly, as he exits and fills me again, inch by inch, taking my breath away.

«I love you too, Y/n. I love you, I love you and I want to be yours, only yours. I'm sorry, forgive me because my life is not simple at all, but I want to spend it with you by my side, please, forgive me if I am so selfish. I love you, I love you madly.»

I wrap my arms around his back, while he does the same, lifting my body from the mattress as our pelvises push toward each other.

I have never made love like this; I have never felt so blended with anyone.

He is everywhere; I feel him all over.

«I— I wish you were closer than this.»

«I'm glued to you, Hyunie.»

«More, more... I want to inhabit your heart.»

I'm breathless; his words are stronger than a punch straight to the stomach.

«Y— You can't say these things to me, you can't—» A groan escapes my lips when his body increases the rhythm, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.

«You can't— you can't make me love you more than this.»

«I'm losing my mind, you don't understand, you don't understand how much I struggled to comprehend the love that poets talk about in their books before you. Now, now that I'm inside you, I finally understand. I understand that I could die buried inside you. I understand that I want to live to be inside you. In every sense.»

His eyes find mine, and inside I see the fire of devotion.

I cling to him, unable to speak.

«You're close— I feel you—»

«Hyunjin—»

«Come with me— please, let me fill you up. May I? Please?»

«Yes, yes, please.»

We look into each other's eyes once more, and we are both overwhelmed by what is perhaps more of a transcendence than an orgasm.

His body collapses onto mine, but he doesn't waste time before starting to cuddle me, holding me tight.

«It's you...» I whisper.

«What, my love?»

«You, yourself, are a poem.»

«I don't think I can love you more than this...»