The floor-to-ceiling windows of Ohyul’s penthouse suite overlooked the sprawling city skyline, bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun.
He stood by the glass, completely unbothered by the wide open view, a glass of whiskey resting loosely in his hand. At thirty two, he possessed the kind of confidence that made your chest tighten just looking at him.
You sat on the edge of the large leather sofa, a thrill of nervousness running through you. The sheer openness of the space, the vulnerability of knowing anyone with a telescope in the opposite towers could potentially see in sent a flush of heat straight down your spine.
Your agoraphilia was a secret you had only recently shared with him. And Ohyul, with his commanding, protective nature, knew exactly how to exploit it.
"Still nervous?" Ohyul asked, turning his dark eyes toward you. He set his glass down on the table, the ice clinking softly.
"A little..." you admitted, your pulse quickening as he walked toward you. "The blinds..."
"The blinds stay up," he murmured, his deep voice leaving no room for argument. He stepped between your knees, his large hands reaching down to cup your face, tilting your chin up.
"I want them to see exactly who you belong to. But more importantly, I want you to feel the thrill of it."
He leaned down, his mouth covering yours in a commanding kiss. He tasted faintly of whiskey, his stubble scraping pleasantly against your skin. While his mouth dominated yours, his hands moved with practiced ease, sliding down your throat to unbutton your blouse, parting the fabric to expose your bare breasts to the cool air of the room and the open sky beyond.
You let out a soft whimper into his mouth, the exposure making your nipples harden instantly. Ohyul pulled back, a low chuckle escaping his chest as he looked down at you.
"Look at you, already so worked up just from the view." he teased, his thumb rubbing over one sensitive peak.
He didn't waste any time. Ohyul unbuckled his belt and shed his trousers, his fully erect cock springing free, heavy and warm between his thighs.
He gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly from the sofa and pushing you right up against the cool glass of the window.
You gasped, the contrast of the cold glass against your bare back and the terrifying, exhilarating openness of the city below making your head spin. Anyone could look up. Anyone could see.
"Ohyul, right here?" you breathed, wrapping your legs tightly around his hips.
"Right here princess." he growled. He guided the slick head of his penis to your wet pussy and with one heavy thrust, he buried his entire length deep inside you.
A loud cry tore from your lips, echoing in the vast room. Ohyul immediately locked his hands under your thighs, holding your weight effortlessly as he began a fierce, deep rhythm.
Every slam of his hips pressed you harder against the glass, the view of the city blurring past your shoulder as he claimed you completely in the open light.
"Ah god, Ohyul!" you gasped, your fingers digging into his broad shoulders, your internal muscles clamping down around him in tight, frantic waves.
"Look down." he commanded near your ear, his breath hot and ragged as his pace grew faster, his heavy thrusts relentless.
"Look at how good you take me while the whole world watches."
The sheer taboo of the exposure, combined with the deep friction of his thick cock stretching you open, pushed you straight over the edge. Your body shuddered violently as a massive orgasm ripped through you, your pussy pulsing wildly around his dick.
The intense clamping of your climax was the final straw for him. Ohyul let out a deep groan, driving his hips forward in a final brutal thrust before pulling out just in time, shooting his cum directly against the glass window right before your eyes.
He panted against your neck, holding you tightly against his chest as the tremors subsided, the city lights beginning to twinkle in the dusk around you.
Ohyul didn't let you down right away. He kept his arms locked tight under your thighs, pinning your twitching body against his chest as you both panted for air. The glass in front of you was smeared with his thick white semen, slowly running down the pane, reflecting the neon city lights below.
"Look at that." he whispered, his deep voice vibrating right against your ear. His thumb swept across your wet cheek, tilting your head so you had to look at his mess on the window. "Beautiful."
Your legs were trembling, completely weak from the orgasm, but the constant view of the open skyline kept your adrenaline spiking. The cool glass pressed against your bare back, contrasting sharply with the intense, radiating heat of Ohyul’s sweaty chest.
Slowly, he lowered you until your feet touched the floor, though he didn't let go of your waist. Your knees buckled instantly, and he caught you with a low chuckle, pulling your back flush against his front. He wrapped his large arms around you from behind, anchoring you to his solid frame.
"Still shaking." he murmured, his hands sliding down your stomach to track the residual tremors writhing through your muscles.
His fingers slid lower, dipping between your thighs. You let out a shaky gasp as his fingers brushed through your soaking wet folds, finding your swollen clit. He began to stroke it with slow pressure, his erect cock pressing firmly against your lower back.
"Ohyul, please, I can't..." you whined, your head falling back against his shoulder. The exposure of standing naked right in front of the glass, completely open to the world while he worked you over, was sending a fresh wave of heat straight to your pelvis.
"You can." he growled softly, biting your earlobe gently.
"You're so wet for me. Look out at the city and feel how good this is."
He increased the pace of his fingers, his thumb relentlessly grinding against your clit while his other hand reached around to cup and squeeze your breast.
The sheer visual of your own naked body framed by the massive window, combined with the skilled friction of his hand, wound the tension tight again in seconds.
Your breath hitched, your fingers clawing at his forearms as your internal muscles started to squeeze the air.
"That's it, princess." Ohyul praised, his voice dropping into a rough, dominant command.
"Come again right here. Let them see."
With a sharp whimper, your body broke for the second time. Your pussy clamped down hard on his fingers as a violent, localized orgasm shuddered through your lower half. You arched your back, pressing your ass into his groin as your legs went entirely numb.
Ohyul held you up through the entire climax, absorbing your weight completely. When the tremors finally slowed to a gentle throb, he pulled his wet fingers away and kissed the side of your neck, his breath warm and steady.
"Come on." he whispered, finally turning you away from the glass and scooping you up into his arms. "Let's get you cleaned up."
— All of these are @ryulcom works, please do not copy, translate or even repost to other platforms. Thank you.
cherié chat : THIS WAS MESSS, pov story telling was mess. So sorry 🙏🏻💀 (words : 5k i think)
Exactly thirty nine minutes after the sex, thudding against the drywall had finally stopped, Ryul’s room had grown cold. The sweat on his skin had turned tacky under the low draught of the air conditioner. And beside him, you had drifted into a deep heavy sleep, your face half buried in the pillow and your breathing slow and even.
Ryul quietly rolled off the mattress, careful not to wake you. He pulled on a pair of loose grey mesh gym shorts, leaving his chest bare, his skin still flushed from the sex. He had a brief flash of memory. He’d promised to return Ohyul’s metal silver pendrive by tonight because Ohyul needed the code repositories stored on it for an early morning project deployment.
He picked up the small flash drive from his desk, its casing cold against his thumb, and stepped out into the dark hallway.
The apartment was pitch black except for the thin line of blue light slicing through the crack at the bottom of Ohyul’s door. Ryul didn't bother knocking, they never did when the lights were still on. He turned the handle and pushed the door open, expecting to see his roommate buried in lines of code, his back turned to the room.
Instead, Ohyul was lying on his back, the sharp glare of his smartphone screen illuminating his face in pale, spectral blue.
He wasn't working. He was just scrolling, his thumb moving with a strange stiffness. The air in his room felt entirely different from the rest of the flat. It was thick, uncomfortably warm, and carried a faint, metallic musk that Ryul couldn't immediately place. Ohyul’s shoulders were noticeably tense, his broad bare chest rising and falling with an uneven, shallow rhythm as if he had just finished running.
"Hey," Ryul said, his voice dropping into a low, post-sex rumble as he walked into the room. "Brought your drive back. Forgot I had it in my drawer."
Ohyul didn't flinch, but his eyes darted toward Ryul with a sudden, sharp intensity that felt almost defensive. He didn't sit up. He kept his body flat against the mattress, his right hand holding the phone up while his left hand remained hidden completely beneath the heavy dark blanket pulled up to his waist.
"Yeah. Just put it on the desk" Ohyul muttered. His voice was incredibly rough, a dry, gravelly scratch that sounded like he hadn't used his vocal cords in hours. He didn't look at Ryul. His eyes went straight back to the screen, his thumb resuming its aimless scrolling.
Ryul didn't think much of the tone at first. He figured Ohyul was just in one of his usual antisocial moods, irritated by the noise from earlier but too proud to say anything about it.
Ryul knew they’d been loud and he’d intentionally driven himself into you without a care for the thinness of the walls but since Ohyul had his heavy noise canceling headphones resting on the desk near his monitor, Ryul assumed the digital barrier had done its job.
Ryul walked over to the desk to drop the pendrive. The small plastic trash can sat directly beside the desk leg, right where the edge of the table met the wall.
As Ryul reached out to set the silver drive down next to the keyboard, his eyes naturally dropped to the floor.
The light from the PC monitor was still casting a faint glow downward, illuminating the small basket. Inside, sitting right at the top of the bin, was a fresh, messy pile of crumpled white tissues. They weren't dry. The thin paper was visibly soaked through with a thick, white, sticky substance that caught the blue glare of the screen, still wet and glistening in the shadows.
Ryul’s hand hovered over the desk for a fraction of a second, his fingers freezing around the metal loop of the pendrive.
He looked from the wet tissues in the trash back to the bed. Ohyul was still lying there, his right hand moving slowly over his phone, but his left arm was completely motionless beneath the covers, tucked away right against his groin. The heat radiating off his roommate’s body suddenly made sense. The heavy, thick scent in the small room wasn't just old sweat,
it was raw, fresh semen.
Ryul’s mind immediately began calculating the numbers. Thirty nine minutes ago, you had been screaming his name against the shared wall. Thirty nine minutes ago, the headboard had been slamming directly into the drywall right above where Ohyul’s bed sat.
There’s no way he didn't hear it
Ryul thought, his chest tightening with a sudden, violent surge of possessiveness. The headphones are on the desk. He wasn't even wearing them.
The realization didn't come with an explanation, it came with an immediate, defensive instinct. Ryul stared at the back of Ohyul’s head, his jaw tightening until the muscle in his cheek twitched. The wet tissues in the trash weren't from some random video. The timing was too perfect, too identical to the exact moments you had been breaking down next door.
"You working late?" Ryul asked, his tone shifting from casual to something dangerously flat, his eyes fixed on the hidden left hand beneath the blanket.
Ohyul didn't move an inch. "No. Just checking some logs. Go back to sleep."
Ryul let out a short, quiet breath through his nose, his knuckles clenching into a fist. He didn't say a word about the sound. He didn't mention the tissues. The unwritten rule between them had always been absolute privacy, but as Ryul turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him with a sharp, heavy click, the silence in the hallway felt like a fuse that had just been lit.
He definitely heard it.
The harsh, unyielding morning sun cut through the cheap blinds of the kitchen window, slicing the dusty air into sharp geometric lines. Ohyul hadn't slept. At all. He had spent the remaining hours of the night tossing against his tangled sheets, his skin feeling hot and gritty, his mind trapped in a vicious loop of self-loathing and residual arousal. Every time he closed his eyes, the phantom echo of that heavy, rhythmic slapping against the drywall flared back to life, accompanied by the unbidden image of your flushed face and heavy, bare chest.
By 7:00 AM, he couldn't stand the confines of his room anymore.
He dragged himself out of bed, his joints stiff, his dark hair messy and sticking up in every direction. He was wearing nothing but a pair of low slung grey sweatpants. The same ones from last night and his broad, bare shoulders were tense as he stepped into the quiet hallway. The apartment was suffocatingly still. The door to Ryul’s room was firmly shut, holding in the thick, private atmosphere of their post coital sleep.
Ohyul walked into the kitchen, his movements mechanical. He needed coffee. He needed something bitter and scalding to shock his system, to wash away the dirty lingering fog in his brain. He grabbed the glass coffee carafe, his knuckles turning white around the handle as he filled it with cold tap water, the loud, rushing sound of the faucet filling the empty room. He dumped a generous amount of dark coffee grounds into the filter, desperate for the strongest brew possible.
As the machine began to sputter and hiss, releasing a rich, dark aroma into the air, Ohyul leaned his hip against the edge of the kitchen counter. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, his eyes staring blankly at the dark liquid dripping slowly into the pot. He felt exposed in the daylight, his skin crawling with the memory of how easily he had broken his own rules hours prior.
Then, the soft click of a door handle breaking the silence made his entire body lock up.
Ohyul didn't move. His muscles went rigid, his breath hitching in his throat as the soft, shuffling sound of footsteps approached the kitchen. He kept his eyes glued to the coffee maker, his jaw clenching so hard a sharp pain shot up into his temple.
"Oh... good morning, Ohyul."
Your voice was soft, husky with sleep, and completely devoid of the sharp, desperate edge it had possessed in the dark. It sent an immediate, violent shiver straight down his spine.
Slowly, against every protective instinct in his body, Ohyul turned his head to look at you.
You were standing at the entrance of the kitchen, rubbing one of your eyes with the back of your hand. You looked completely soft, vulnerable, and heartbreakingly messy.
You were wearing one of Ryul’s old, oversized black t-shirts. It was so large on your smaller frame that the hem fell halfway down your thighs, completely covering your shorts. The collar of the shirt was stretched out, slipping off your left shoulder to expose your pale collarbone and a faint, dark mark Ryul’s teeth had left on your skin.
But it was your chest that made Ohyul’s lungs completely empty of air.
Because you weren't wearing a bra, your breasts was completely unrestricted beneath the thin cotton fabric. With every slow, sleepy breath you took, your chest shifted, the soft flesh swaying slightly, your prominent nipples pressing sharply against the black cloth.
Ohyul’s dark eyes locked onto your chest before he could even register what he was doing. His analytical, usually indifferent gaze turned completely predatory for a split second, his mind instantly mapping the heavy curves in front of him to the filthy sound of them smacking against Ryul’s skin through the wall. He remembered his fantasy, remembered imagining his own large hands cupping that exact plush weight, spit slicking your cleavage until it glistened under the lights.
A sudden, familiar heat flared in his lower stomach, his thickness immediately twitching against the fabric of his sweatpants.
You noticed his intense, unblinking stare, but you completely misinterpreted it. You shifted uncomfortably, your cheeks turning a faint pink as you mistook his dark, suffocating lust for his usual cold disapproval. You quickly brought your arms up, crossing them over your chest to shield your heavy tits from his gaze, your fingers digging into the sleeves of the oversized shirt.
"I'm... I'm really sorry about last night." you whispered, your eyes dropping to the marbel floor, unable to hold his piercing stare. Your voice was tight with embarrassment. "I know the walls are really thin. We didn't mean to... to be so loud. I tried to keep it down, but... I'm sorry if we woke you up or annoyed you. It won't happen again, I promise."
The apology was like a physical blow to Ohyul’s chest.
She thinks I'm mad. He thought, his heart hammering violently against his ribs.
She thinks I'm judging her because she was loud.
The sheer irony of it was suffocating. You were standing there, looking down at your feet, practically begging for forgiveness from the very man who had been on his knees, pressing his ear to the drywall, desperately drinking in every single sob and groan you had made. You had no idea that your loud, uninhibited whines hadn't annoyed him. More like they had ruined him. They had driven him so entirely insane that he had painted his own stomach white while whispering your name in the dark.
The silence stretching between you became heavy, thick, and completely unbreathable. The air conditioner in the hallway kicked on with a low hum, but it did nothing to cool the sudden, explosive tension radiating between your bodies.
Ohyul swallowed hard, his throat feeling like sandpaper. He needed to say something. He needed to play the role of the cold, antisocial roommate, to push you away before the feral urge to step forward and rip that shirt off your body completely took over.
"Don't worry about it." Ohyul finally muttered, his voice dropping into a deep, gravelly register that sounded incredibly rough and strained. He turned his eyes away from you, forcing his gaze back to the coffee pot, his hands gripping the edge of the counter behind him so hard his knuckles turned white. "Just... Keep it down next time."
It was a lie. A brutal, defensive lie meant to build the wall back up. He didn't want you to keep it down. God, he wanted to hear you louder.
You let out a small, hesitant breath, your shoulders dropping slightly as you took his rough tone as his usual annoyance. "Right. Okay. I'll make sure we do."
You took a small step backward, clearly wanting to escape the overwhelming tension of the kitchen. "I'll... I'm just going to go back to Ryul's room. Sorry again, Ohyul."
You turned and shuffled quickly down the hallway, the hem of the black shirt bouncing against your thighs, your tits shifting under the fabric with every step. The door to Ryul’s room opened and clicked shut with a soft thud.
The second the door closed, Ohyul let out a long, ragged exhale that tore from his throat. He slumped forward, his forehead coming to rest against the cool upper cabinet of the kitchen. His hands were shaking. He reached down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling the fabric away from his skin to look down at the heavy, pulsing erection that was already stretching his underwear, a clear bead of precum staining the cotton.
He let out a short, bitter laugh against the dark wood of the cabinet, his jaw clenching.
"What the fuck am I going to do." He whispered to the empty kitchen, the scent of the freshly brewed coffee completely ignored as the mental image of your bare breasts resting against his arm burned into his eyelids, cementing an obsession that was quickly spiraling out of his control.
The afternoon air felt different the moment Ohyul finally dragged himself awake around 3:00 PM.
His phone was buzzing on his nightstand, the screen lighting up the dim room. He reached over with a heavy, sleepy groan and checked the screen. It was a brief, clipped text from Ryul sent an hour earlier.
Taking yn out for a late lunch and a full evening date.
Going to grab dinner after too, so we won't be back until late tonight.
Ohyul let out a long, heavy sigh into his quiet bedroom, the tension draining from his shoulders for the first time in days. Finally. A reprieve. He had the rest of the day to himself in absolute isolation, no soft footsteps in the hallway, no your sweet floral perfume drifting under his door, and no agonizing, muffled whines vibrating through the drywall to drive him to the brink of insanity. He was free to just be himself again.
Determined to completely purge his mind of every dirty, forbidden impulse, Ohyul threw himself into the chores he had been neglecting. He spent the next two hours moving frantically through the apartment like a man possessed.
He washed every stray dish in the sink, scrubbing the porcelain until his knuckles were raw. He swept the floors, cleaned the kitchen counters, and carried his laundry to the living room to fold it, neatly stacking his shirts into precise, sharp squares. He forced his brain to focus entirely on the mundane, physical rhythm of manual labor.
By the time he finished, a thick sheen of sweat coated his bare shoulders and chest. His muscles ached, but his head felt clear. The heavy fog of guilt had lifted, replaced by the clean, empty satisfaction of hard work.
He needed a shower.
Ohyul walked down the quiet hallway to the apartment's only shared bathroom. He pushed the door open, locking it securely behind him with a sharp twist of the deadbolt. He stripped off his sweatpants and boxers in one fluid motion, tossing them into the hamper, and stepped into the spacious glass stall. He reached out and turned the knob, activating the heavy rain showerhead directly above him.
A torrential downpour of warm, steaming water immediately cascaded over his head, soaking his dark hair and masking his face in a heavy, comforting sheet of wetness. For the first few minutes, it was perfect. He closed his eyes, letting the pressure of the water wash away the physical grime of the afternoon, inhaling the clean, sharp scent of his body wash. He felt grounded. He felt like the disciplined, indifferent roommate he was supposed to be.
But the bathroom was small, and the steam began to rise rapidly, clouding the glass walls of the stall and condensing against the large mirror outside.
Ohyul wiped the water from his eyes, his chest heaving under the downpour. As his gaze drifted through the foggy glass toward the faint shape of the sink counter outside, his brain completely betrayed him.
The clean facade he had built up over the last two hours shattered into a million pieces. The atmosphere of the steam filled room instantly triggered the memory of his depraved fantasy from the night before. The vivid, untouchable illusion of standing right over you in this exact, dark bathroom.
A sharp, violent jolt of heat slammed straight into his groin. Ohyul gasped, his back hitting the wet tile wall of the shower as his cock violently surged to life, hardening instantly into a thick, pulsing rod that throbbed heavily against his lower stomach. The pure, unadulterated lust was twice as intense now because he was completely alone in the house. There was no reality to snap him out of it.
Before his conscience could even mount a defense, Ohyul’s large, wet hand reached down and gripped his massive dick in a tight, punishing vice.
He closed his eyes, his head snapping back against the tiles as the image burned behind his eyelids with terrifying clarity. In his mind, he wasn't alone. He was standing right behind you in front of that fogged up mirror, his hands violently cupping the undersides of your breasts. He could see them bouncing wildly in his mind's eye, the soft, flesh jiggling and swaying with every rough, imaginary stroke of his body.
"Fuck... y/n," Ohyul groaned out loud, his voice a deep, hollow scratch that was completely swallowed by the rushing sound of the rain shower.
He began to stroke himself with a furious, chaotic speed. His palm generated a loud, wet friction against his thick shaft, the water from the showerhead slicking his skin as he pumped himself over and over. He was completely feral now. He pictured his hands crushing your tits together, burying his thick dick deep into the soft, tight valley of your cleavage, before spinning you around to drive his cock entirely inside your soaking wet pussy.
The imagery inside his head turned completely filthy, shattering any remaining shred of his restraint. He wasn't just imagining holding you anymore, he was talking to the empty, steam filled air, his voice dropping into a dark, commanding growl that made his own throat ache.
"God, you're such a fucking slut for me," Ohyul growled, his jaw clenching as his hand flew up and down his wet cock, the friction sound mixing with the heavy thrum of the water. "Look at those fat fucking tits bouncing for me... I'm gonna choke my dick between them until you beg for it."
He choked back a rugged breath, his forearm veins straining under his dark skin as he slammed his hand against his cock, faster and harder, completely losing his mind. He imagined pinning your face down against the slick marble sink counter outside, lifting your hips, and staring down at your exposed, soaking opening.
"Fucking open wide for me, princess," he rasped, a desperate, breathless whine escaping his lips as his hips hitched forward against the tile wall.
"I'm gonna push this thick dick so far inside you... I'm gonna breed this puffy pussy until you can't even stand up."
His pace became frantic. He was jackhammering his hand up and down his length, his thighs shaking uncontrollably under the weight of his own depravity. His breathing fractured into loud, desperate whimpers. He was whining out loud, his voice echoing off the tiled walls in a shameful display of complete submission to her memory.
"yn... please... ah! Take this fucking dick"
His head tilted back, his eyes opening blindly toward the ceiling as the water pelted his face. His forearm veins stood out violently, his knuckles turning white as he reached the absolute edge. With a sharp, breathless cry, his body went entirely rigid, and his cock erupted. He unleashed a thick, heavy of cum that shot through the falling water, splattering violently against the tiled walls and washing down the drain in warm, white streaks.
He panted heavily, his chest heaving, his hand still loosely wrapped around his twitching length. But the release didn't cure him. The dark obsession had rooted itself too deeply. As the initial throb of his orgasm began to fade, the mental image of your pretty pussy flashed again, even more vivid, even more demanding.
He didn't stop. He tightened his grip again.
Riding the sensitive, hyper aroused wave of his first climax, Ohyul began to stroke his raw dick a second time. His skin felt sensitive, almost painful under the intense friction, but the desperate need to lose himself in your fantasy completely overrode the discomfort. He pumped his shaft with a slower, heavier, more punishing rhythm, his thighs shaking uncontrollably under the weight of his own depravity.
"Fucking wrap your lips around it," he muttered in a broken, needy whisper, staring blindly at the foggy glass as he imagined you kneeling right at his feet in the tight space. "Suck it deep... swallow all of it down your throat, yn. Show me how much better you take your man's best friend."
He imagined you crying out under him, your pretty, broken voice screaming his name instead of Ryul's, your tight walls clamping down on his dick so hard he could barely breathe. He tortured himself with the illusion until his breath caught in his throat for a second time. His voice broke into a high, pathetic whine as his hips violently snapped forward, his cock pulsing aggressively as he came a second time, a smaller, thicker load pasting against his fingers and the wet glass.
Ohyul slumped forward, his palms pressing flat against the wet wall to keep his knees from buckling. He was completely breathless, his head hanging low as the warm water ran down his back, washing the evidence of his sins away.
Then, through the loud, steady roar of the rain shower, a sound cut through the air outside the bathroom door.
A faint, echoing burst of laughter.
Ohyul’s heart instantly stopped. The blood in his veins turned to absolute ice.
It was a girl's laugh. Soft, bright, and distinct. Followed by the heavy, muffled bass of Ryul’s deeper chuckle, and the distinct sound of a grocery bag rustling in the entryway.
Ohyul’s eyes snapped wide open, his pupils dilating in pure, unadulterated terror. The world around him seemed to freeze.
Did they just come home? The thought slammed into his brain like a physical brick.
They weren't supposed to be back until late tonight. Why the fuck are they back?
Panic, raw, suffocating and violent.
It instantly seized his entire body. His breath hitched in his throat as he frantically calculated the timeline. He had been moaning. He had been talking filthy, swearing, and whining your name at the top of his lungs. The bathroom door was right next to the hallway, and the acoustics of the small apartment were notorious.
Did they listen to me?
A cold sweat broke out over his skin despite the warm water. His mind went into a frantic, chaotic tailspin. He couldn't remember how loud he had been. He couldn't remember if he had screamed her name clear enough for Ryul to hear it through the wood. He stood paralyzed under the downpour, his hands trembling violently as the absolute horror of the situation settled into his chest, realizing he was completely trapped in the bathroom with the evidence of his dirty relapse still fresh on his skin.
The water ran cold against his shivering skin before his hands finally found the valve, twisting it shut with a violent, trembling jerk. The sudden silence in the shower stall was deafening, amplified by the heavy, rhythmic thuds of his own heart hammering against his ribs.
Ohyul didn't breathe. He snatched his towel off the rack, his movements chaotic and frantic as he wiped the dripping moisture from his limbs, his skin still burning from the friction of his own hands just moments ago. He threw on his grey sweatpants, his trembling fingers nearly tearing the drawstring, and wrapped the towel tightly around his neck, using it to shield the dark, flushed marks of arousal on his throat.
He unlocked the deadbolt with a sharp, echoing click that felt like a death sentence.
Stepping into the hallway, the air hit him like ice. He kept his head down, his eyes glued to the dark grain of the floorboards, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the ends of his towel. Every nerve ending in his body was screaming, waiting for Ryul to call his name, waiting for the heavy hand of his best friend to clamp down on his shoulder.
"Oh! Ohyul, hey." your soft, airy voice cut through the stagnant air of the corridor.
Ohyul froze entirely, his chest seizing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you standing by the kitchen island, holding a grocery bag. You were smiling softly, completely relaxed, your cheeks flushed.
"We came back early because the diner was so crowded," you murmured, taking a step toward him. "Ryul wanted to grab some stuff for a barbecue instead. Are you—"
"I'm busy," Ohyul choked out, his voice an unrecognizable, gravelly rasp. He didn't look at you. He didn't dare glance at the heavy, soft swell of your chest beneath your shirt, knowing the filthy words he had just growled in the shower would instantly choke him.
He brushed past you with a sudden, aggressive burst of speed, his broad shoulder nearly clipping yours. He slammed his bedroom door shut, locking it with a frantic twist, and collapsed against hus bed, his chest heaving as a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. He had made it. They didn't know. The heavy hum of the rain shower must have drowned out his filthy whines.
He let out a ragged, trembling exhale, walking over to his desk to sink into his chair, his hands still shaking so violently he could barely text. He needed to calm down. He needed to convince himself that the absolute horror of the last five minutes was just paranoia.
His eyes automatically drifted toward his phone resting on the desk, the screen dark. He picked it up to check the time, his thumb tapping the glass.
The screen lit up, but it didn't show his lock screen.
It showed an active, ongoing connection interface.
Ohyul’s breath caught completely in his throat, his vision blurring as a sickening, violent jolt of adrenaline crashed through his veins, making the hairs on his arms stand up in a wave of cold goosebumps.
His phone was automatically synced to his wireless earbuds. The noise canceling ones he had left resting directly on the kitchen island earlier that morning after he finished folding the laundry. The ones with the highly sensitive, external ambient microphone feature designed to amplify surrounding noise when ambient mode was triggered.
With a trembling, bloodless finger, Ohyul swiped down on the notification panel.
The audio log app was open. Because his phone was paired to the kitchen island device, the system had automatically recorded the entire room's audio feed to prevent feedback.
He tapped the latest audio file, his heart stopping dead in his chest as he saw the timestamp. It had been recording for the last twenty minutes.
Ohyul slowly pressed his phone to his ear, his body turning to absolute stone as the audio began to play in a low, digitized hiss.
At first, it was just the distant, muffled roar of the shower water running down the hall. But then, clear as day, his own voice echoed through the speaker. Loud, desperate, and completely unhinged, booming straight out of the kitchen island's connection.
"Fucking open wide for me, princess... I'm gonna breed this puffy pussy until you can't even stand up..."
Ohyul’s stomach dropped into a bottomless, freezing void. He stared at the wall in pure horror, his breathing completely stopping as the audio continued to play.
He expected to hear your sudden laughter next. He expected to hear the rustle of the grocery bags.
But the audio didn't play the sound of the front door opening. The apartment had been completely silent when he said those words.
Instead, through the speaker, a completely different sound emerged from the kitchen audio feed, taken from the exact spot right outside his bedroom door, minutes before he finished.
It was the heavy, distinct sound of bare feet shifting quietly on the linoleum floor right outside the bathroom. Followed by a sharp, shaky in draw of breath that didn't belong to Ryul. It was yours.
Through the digital recording, Ohyul heard your soft, trembling voice whisper to yourself in the empty kitchen, right outside the locked door where he had been screaming your name.
"Ohyul...?" you had whispered, your voice cracking with a sudden, terrifying realization, followed by the quiet, frantic rustle of you running back to Ryul's room to pretend you had just walked through the front door.
Ohyul slowly lowered the phone from his ear, his face completely pale, his mind going entirely blank as the cold reality shattered his universe.
You hadn't just arrived with Ryul. You had been standing outside the door the entire time. You had heard every single filthy, degrading word that had left his mouth. And the laughter, the grocery bags, the sudden 'early return' it was all a cover up.
You knew. You knew exactly what your boyfriend's roommate was doing to your memory in the dark.
The silence inside Ohyul’s bedroom was suffocating. The phone felt like a block of ice against his palm, the screen glowing dully as the recording ended, leaving him alone with the frantic thumping of his own pulse.
He couldn't think. His brain was completely paralyzed by the sheer, unadulterated terror of what he had just uncovered. You hadn’t just caught a stray word through a thin wall, you had stood in the kitchen and listened to him meticulously, violently layout exactly how he wanted to ruin your body. You had heard him call you a slut. You had heard him threaten to choke his dick between your tits and breed your pussy.
And then you lied about it. You had staged an entire entrance with Ryul just to give Ohyul an escape route or maybe to protect yourself from the sheer shock of what you’d discovered.
A sudden, sharp knock on his bedroom door made Ohyul jump, nearly dropping his phone onto the mattress.
"Ohyul? You there?" Ryul’s voice boomed through the wood, completely lighthearted and normal. "Come out and help me carry the charcoal grill to the balcony. The steaks are gonna freeze if we don't start the fire soon."
Ohyul’s throat closed up. He stared at the locked door, his fingers gripping his towel so hard the fabric strained. He couldn't go out there. He couldn't look Ryul in the eye, and he damn sure couldn't look at you. But if he stayed locked in his room after his shower, it would look suspicious. It would invite questions he could never answer.
"Yeah," Ohyul managed to choke out, his voice sounding like cracked gravel. "Give me a second."
He forced his shaking legs to move, pulling a black t-shirt over his head to hide the frantic rise and fall of his chest. He unlocked the door with a slow, agonizing turn of his wrist and stepped back into the apartment's common area.
The living room was bright, filled with the cheerful afternoon sun, making the horror of his secret feel completely surreal. Ryul was already out on the small balcony, wrestling with the legs of a rusted metal grill, his loud laughter echoing into the apartment.
But you weren't on the balcony.
You were still standing in the kitchen, unburdening the grocery bags. The second Ohyul stepped into the room, your entire posture went rigid. Your back was turned to him, but he could see the slight, sharp tremor in your shoulders.
Ohyul tried to walk straight past the kitchen island toward the balcony, his eyes fixed firmly on the glass sliding door. He just needed to get to Ryul. He just needed to blend into the background.
"Ohyul," you whispered.
The sound of his name leaving your lips. Not in the polite, formal cadence you usually used, but in a quiet, trembling fracture stopped him dead in his tracks. He froze a mere three feet away from the counter, his back to you, his muscles locking up like granite.
"Can you... can you hand me the salad bowl from the upper cabinet?" you asked, your voice incredibly low, almost completely drowned out by the scraping of Ryul’s grill outside. "I can't reach it."
Ohyul’s jaw clenched so hard a sharp ache shot up into his temple. Every instinct yelled at him to refuse, to walk away, to ignore you like he always did. But the memory of the audio log, the sound of your shaky, terrified breath outside the bathroom door pulled at him like a gravity well.
Slowly, heavily, he turned his body around.
He stepped into the narrow space of the kitchen, crowding your smaller frame against the marble counter. The air between you instantly turned volatile, thick with a suffocating, aware tension that made his lungs burn. He didn't look at your face. He deliberately kept his eyes fixed on the upper wooden cabinet as he raised his large arm, his broad chest nearly brushing against your shoulder.
He reached up, his fingers wrapping around the ceramic bowl. But because he was wound so tight, his forearm accidentally brushed flat against the side of your bare arm.
The contact was electric. A violent, white hot spark shot straight down into Ohyul’s groin, his cock instantly twitching hard against his sweatpants.
But it was your reaction that shattered the universe entirely.
The moment his skin slid against yours, a soft, sharp gasp tore out of your throat. It wasn't a gasp of surprise, and it wasn't a gasp of fear. It was a high, nasal, breathless whimper. The exact, identical frequency of the whine you had last night. Your chest surged violently with the breath, your unbra’d breasts that you took off earlier bouncing sharply under your loose shirt, your nipples instantly hardening into tight points right in front of his face.
Ohyul completely froze, his hand still gripping the bowl in the cabinet, his arm hovering over your head.
He slowly lowered his gaze, his dark, predatory eyes locking onto yours for the first time in weeks. You were looking up at him through your eyelashes, your lips parted, your face flushed a deep, crimson red. Your chest was heaving, the heavy weight of your breasts practically begging for the touch he had described in the shower.
You weren't terrified. You were completely undone.
Through the glass door of the balcony, the loud slam of the grill lid echoed as Ryul shouted, "Alright, fire’s started! yn, bring the meat out!"
Neither of you moved. Ohyul stared down at you, his breathing turning ragged as he realized the most terrifying plot twist of all, you hadn't just listened to him in the kitchen.
You had liked it.
The thin walls weren't his shield anymore. They were a cage, and you held the key.
The afternoon sun blazed down on the balcony, but inside the air conditioned living room, Ohyul felt like he was burning alive.
Ryul had brought the first platter of perfectly charred, sizzling steaks inside, setting the heavy wooden cutting board right onto the marble kitchen island. The rich, savory aroma of the meat filled the air, a completely normal, domestic smell that made the sick reality twisting through the apartment feel even more surreal.
"Alright, food's ready," Ryul announced with a broad smile, wiping his hands on a dish towel. He leaned back against the counter, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "Ohyul, grab a plate. Stop hiding out there."
Ohyul swallowed the thick lump of anxiety in his throat and dragged his feet over to the opposite side of the kitchen island. He sat heavily on one of the barstools, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his sweatpants to hide the relentless tremor in his fingers. He kept his eyes locked firmly on the wooden board, refusing to look up.
Then, you walked in from the balcony, sliding right next to Ryul.
The contrast was agonizing. The moment you reached your boyfriend, you melted into him with pure, unadulterated fluff. You wrapped your arms around Ryul’s waist from behind, resting your chin snugly on his bare shoulder.
"Mmm, smells amazing, babe," you murmured sweetly, your voice dripping with affectionate warmth and squeezed Ryul tightly, planting a soft, lingering kiss right on his jawline. "You're the best cook ever."
Ryul chuckled deeply, the sound vibrating in his chest as he wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. "Only the best for you. Here, try a piece."
Ryul picked up the carving knife, slicing off a small, tender strip of steak. He held it out to you, and you leaned in, opening your lips to take the food from his fingers. You chewed happily, letting out a soft, delighted hum that made Ryul beam with pride. He turned his head to grab a set of tongs from the sink, his attention completely diverted for just a fraction of a minute.
In that exact, split second of blindness, the sweet, doting girlfriend vanished.
Ohyul, unable to help himself, glanced up just in time to see you locking your eyes directly onto his face. The gaze wasn't innocent. It was sharp, dark, and overflowing with a terrifyingly wicked amusement.
Slowly, deliberately, you raised your right hand. A glisten of savory juice was smeared against the pad of your thumb. You kept your eyes pinned to Ohyul’s pale, frozen face as you parted your lips and slowly slid your thumb into your mouth, wrapping your lips tightly around it.
Ohyul’s heart completely stopped. His lungs froze.
You was mimicking it. You was explicitly, ruthlessly re-acting the filthy imagery he had panted out in the shower. Your throat swallowed dynamically as you sucked the juice off your skin, your eyes narrowing as if you were looking right through his sweatpants, reminding him exactly of the words he had growled into the steam
'Suck it deep... swallow all of it down your throat, yn.'
A violent, catastrophic jolt of heat slammed straight into Ohyul’s groin. His cock, already sensitive from his double relapse, violently throbbed and expanded against the fabric of his grey sweatpants, hardening into a thick, undeniable ridge.
Ohyul choked back a pathetic, silent gasp, his face turning a chaotic shade of crimson. He ripped his hands out of his pockets and gripped the edge of the marble island so hard, trying desperately to anchor himself before his knees buckled. He was dying inside, completely paralyzed by the raw, psychological humiliation of being played like a fiddle right in front of his best friend.
"Hey, Ohyul, you good?" Ryul asked, turning back around with the tongs in hand, completely oblivious. He noticed his roommate’s intense, rigid posture. "You look like you're staring down a ghost. Eat some food, man."
"Yeah," Ohyul managed to grate out. The word was a dry, broken splinter of sound. He frantically grabbed a fork, his hand shaking so violently the metal prongs clattered loudly against the wooden board. "Just... tired."
You pulled your thumb from her lips with a soft, wet pop that echoed like a gunshot in Ohyul’s ears. You turned back to Ryul, your expression instantly shifting back into pure, sweet innocence as you took a napkin and gently wiped a stray speck of charcoal from Ryul's cheek.
"He probably just worked too hard doing the chores earlier," you said softly, your voice practically purring with hidden malice as she shot one more fleeting, heavy lidded glance across the counter at the massive, sweating tent in Ohyul’s sweatpants. "We should let him rest after dinner. Right, Ryul?"
"Yeah, definitely," Ryul agreed, tossing a massive steak onto Ohyul’s plate. "Eat up, buddy. You look like you need it."
Ohyul looked down at his plate, his chest heaving as he fought for breath, realizing with absolute terror that the nightmare wasn't over. The barbecue had barely even started, and you was going to make him pay for every single word he had used to ruin your memory.
Ohyul could barely swallow a single bite of the steak on his plate. His throat was a dry, constricted knot, and his entire focus was violently split between the casual, booming conversation Ryul was trying to strike up and the suffocating, terrifying awareness of his best friend's girlfriend sitting right across the narrow marble island.
Every time he forced himself to look down, he could see the heavy fabric of his sweatpants tented completely out of shape. The pulse in his groin was a steady, agonizing throb, a physical reminder of just how deeply yours thumb sucking display had broken his restraint. He was a prisoner on his own barstool, praying for the meal to end so he could sprint back to the safety of his locked bedroom.
But you wasn't done playing with your new toy.
"Hey, Ohyul, can you pass the extra spicy barbecue sauce next to your plate?" Ryul asked, reaching a hand out from the side.
Before Ohyul’s shaking hand could even reach for the heavy glass bottle, you moved fast first. "I’ll get it babe!" You said brightly, your voice overflowing with helpful, sweet energy.
You leaned your entire upper body far across the tight marble counter. As you stretched out, your loose, oversized t-shirt sagged deeply, the wide collar slipping entirely off your left shoulder. Right in Ohyul’s direct line of sight, your massive, unbra’d breasts swung forward, the soft, heavy flesh jiggling heavily with the movement before your prominent nipples practically brushed the edge of his plate.
Ohyul’s breath hitched, his eyes locking onto the plush curves in absolute helplessness.
Then came the strike. With a calculated, fluid flick of your wrist, your elbow 'accidentally' clipped the top of the tall glass bottle of dark, thick barbecue sauce.
The bottle tipped over instantly, rolling off the edge of the counter and slamming right into Ohyul’s lap before landing on the floor with a loud, hollow thud. A massive, cold splatter of thick, dark brown sauce erupted across the center of his grey sweatpants, pooling heavily right over the pulsing, rock hard ridge of his erection.
"Oh my god!" You gasped loudly, your hands flying to your mouth in a perfect display of panicked horror.
"Ohyul! I am so, so sorry! I’m so clumsy, the bottle just slipped right out of my hand!"
Ryul groaned, tossing his fork down. "Baby, seriously? That’s the third time this week you’ve dropped something. Ohyul, you good?"
Ohyul’s entire body went rigid as stone. The cold shock of the sauce contrasting against the burning, white hot heat of his hard on made his vision blur. He sat there, paralyzed, staring down at his lap where the thick sauce was slowly soaking into the cotton fabric, highlighting the massive outline beneath.
"I-It’s fine," Ohyul choked out, his voice cracking violently as he scrambled to pull the edge of his t-shirt down to cover himself. He looked like a man who had just survived a car crash. Pale, sweating, and trembling from head to toe. "It's totally fine. Don't worry about it."
"No, let me help clean it up!" you insisted, your eyes flashing with a wicked, dangerous thrill. Before Ohyul could even protest, you grabbed a thick stack of paper towels from the holder and immediately dropped to your knees right between his legs at the barstool.
"Yn, wait—" Ohyul gasped, his hands flying out to grip your shoulders to stop you, but it was too late.
Down on the floor, hidden completely from Ryul’s line of sight by the high marble counter, you raised the thick bundle of paper towels. You didn't just dab at the stain. You pressed your palm flat against the center of his groin, your fingers instantly wrapping around the thick, pulsing length of his shaft through the wet fabric.
Ohyul’s head snapped back, a silent, strangled whine catching in his throat. His eyes rolled back for a fraction of a second as you deliberately squeezed his cock, sliding your hand upward in a heavy, punishing stroke that perfectly mimicked the frantic pace he had used in the shower.
"I'm really, really sorry, Ohyul," you said out loud, your voice sounding incredibly apologetic and sweet for Ryul’s benefit. But as you looked up at Ohyul, you lips parted into a silent, filthy mouthe of a word 'slut' matching the exact insult he had growled at your image in the steam.
Ohyul felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. He was on the absolute brink of losing his mind, his cock pulsing so violently against you palm that a fresh wave of precum was already staining through his underwear. If you stroked him one more time, he was going to break down right in front of his best friend.
"I-I'll handle it." Ohyul suddenly burst out, his voice nearly a shout of pure panic. He violently shoved his stool back, ripping his groin away from your hand. He stood up so fast his knees nearly hit the under counter, his arms crossed tightly over his stomach to shield the massive, soiled tent in his sweatpants. "I'll just... I'll clean it up in the bathroom. It's fine."
Ryul waved a hand, completely unfazed. "Yeah, go wash it out before it stains the fabric permanently. Baby, get up off the floor, it's just a pair of sweatpants."
"Okay," you murmured softly, pulling yourself up from you knees with a sweet, compliant smile. You tossed the dirty paper towels into the trash and wash your hands, your eyes lingering heavily on Ohyul's trembling frame. "Sorry again, Ohyul."
Ohyul didn't say another word. He turned on his heel and practically sprinted down the hallway, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He slammed the bathroom door shut behind him, throwing the deadbolt into place with a loud, echoing snap that finally cut him off from the world.
He collapsed against the sink counter, his chest heaving as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was completely unraveled, his face flushed, his breathing ragged. He looked down at the dark, wet stain on his lap, his dick still pulsing aggressively against his stomach. He was alone now, safe behind the thick wood, but as he turned on the faucet to wash his pants, the deafening quiet of the apartment only made one thing clear
He had escaped the kitchen, but he hadn't escaped her.
I’M NOT A PARK ANYMORE, I TOOK MY WIFE’S NAME … ❤︎ park sunghoon
PART ONE. TWO. THREE ─── bored of your life, you go on tinder and match with a hot guy named park sunghoon, who in his bio, states that he’s “date to marry.” but he offers you a deal: fake a marriage with him to annoy his obnoxious family and he’ll pay you for it.
or you’re in a fake marriage with sunghoon and he takes your last name to piss his relatives off. oh and did i tell you that he’s lowkey obsessed with you? even though he’s just your “fake husband.”
starring husband!sunghoon x wife!reader ₊˚⊹♡ genre smau, romcom, strangers to lovers, fake marriage au, obsessed!hoon, opposite of slowburn 𑣲⋆ warnings use of y/n, profanity, suggestive jokes /•᷅•᷄\੭ -> check out mayor!jake's story ♡
( ℰ🪽 ) —— srry 4 the wait </3 pt3 is js hubby freakhoon & wife in love era (real) but anw i hope u guys enjoy this one 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 likes, comments, & reblogs r always appreciated <3 mwahh also there's a video part ! make sure to view it
( ℰ🪽 ) —— TY FOR READING <3 not the last part, but the next part will be the last one! im not really satisfied with this part, but i'll pour my heart out for the last one hehehe . this is lowk rushed since ik i've been postponing the update because of school but i think this part is kinda cute!
💬 ── in which you want them but they want her? | ⚠︎ ── oblivious boys still being oblivious, slow burn, lowkey getting into angst territory, still dk about that happy ending l part 1
pairing ── hyung line (individually) x afab reader
nene’s note ── this takes place two weeks after the events of part 1. i wish i could express my anger as i post this, it’s so frustrating being on this app and i’m starting to hate it here, you guys know i’ll always be proper honest here, anyway enjoy💋
﹕𝜗𝜚﹕ NOTES ; alriiiiight another long ass chapter LMAO. tbhhh this is rlly near the end. there’ll be a written part and then 1 or 2 parts idk yet but im definitely trying to post all that this week to conclude this one 😗 hope yall will like it tysm for the continuous support honestly 💞 means a lot to me
﹕𝜗𝜚﹕ NOTES ; the long awaited moment God damn ik some of yall are gonna be glad but i lowkey felt bad when rereading this somehow 🫠 anyway 😆 the convo with jake on the 16th slide is a ref to a french reality show and i laughed alone at this byeee- anyway hope yall will like it!
The apartment had always smelled of stale coffee, laundry detergent that was bought in bulk because it was cheap, and the metallic tang of whatever PC parts Ryul was tinkering with at any given moment. It was an apartment in the most literal sense unfiltered, slightly messy, and quiet.
Ohyul liked the quiet. He was a man who moved through life with a controlled sort of indifference, his boundaries clearly marked by the closed door of his bedroom and the heavy noise-canceling headphones that rarely left his neck. He and Ryul had been friends for years, a partnership built on a mutual understanding of space. They didn't pry, they didn't hover, and they shared the rent down to the last penny.
Then came the afternoon the front door unlocked with a strange, hesitant rhythm.
Ohyul had been sitting at the kitchen island, a glass of ice water in his hand, his laptop open to a coding project he’d been staring at for three hours. Usually, Ryul kicked the door open with his foot, kicking off his shoes with a loud thud before heading straight for the fridge. This time, the door swung open slowly, almost politely.
"Ohyul? You home?" Ryul’s voice was soft, lacking its usual gruff edge.
Ohyul didn't look up from his screen, merely grunting in affirmation "Yeah."
"Cool. Uh, there’s someone I want you to meet."
That made Ohyul’s fingers pause over the keyboard. He tilted his head up, his dark eyes shifting toward the entryway. Ryul was standing there, looking unusually self-conscious, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. But it was the girl standing slightly behind him that caught Ohyul’s attention.
It was you.
You were holding onto the strap of your tote bag, your fingers tightening against the canvas as you met Ohyul’s gaze. You looked small next to Ryul’s broad frame, a little flushed from the walk up the stairs, and completely out of place in their apartment.
"This is y/n" Ryul said, his chest puffing out just a fraction as he introduced you, a prideful smile breaking across his face.
"Y/n, this is Ohyul. My roommate."
"Hi, Ohyul. It's really nice to meet you" you said, your voice carrying a soft, hesitant warmth. You offered a small, polite wave, your eyes searching his face for any sign of welcome.
Ohyul’s expression didn't change. He didn't smile, nor did he look annoyed. He simply took a slow sip of his water, his analytical gaze washing over you for a brief second before he nodded. He didn't see the appeal, honestly. To him, you just look like every other one of Ryul's ex-girlfriends or one night stands that he always brings over to fuck. He wasn't interested in making small talk or playing the welcoming host.
"Hey" Ohyul replied, his tone flat, almost dismissive. "Nice to meet you."
He turned his eyes straight back to his laptop screen, his fingers resuming their mechanical clicking on the keys.
The silence that followed was thick. You blinked, your hand dropping back to your side, a faint flare of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. You looked at Ryul, your lips parting slightly, unsure if you had done something wrong. Ryul just cleared his throat, clapping a hand on your shoulder to guide you toward his room.
"Don't mind him, he's always like that when he's working" Ryul whispered, though the apartment was small enough that Ohyul heard every word. "Come on, let's go inside."
As the door to Ryul’s bedroom clicked shut, Ohyul finally let his hands rest. He stared at the glowing monitor, the faint scent of a sweet, floral perfume still lingering in the air near the doorway. It was a clean, soft scent that didn't belong in a place like this. He let out a short, quiet exhale through his nose, reached down to pick up his headphones, and slid them over his ears, drowning out the rest of the world.
The days turned into weeks, and the apartment ceased to belong solely to the two men. Your presence became a recurring theme, an expected element of the weekly routine. Ohyul kept to himself, preserving his lifestyle like a ghost in his own home, but it was impossible not to notice the shift.
Ryul changed. The guy who used to survive on instant ramen and frozen pizza suddenly started hoarding fresh groceries in the fridge. Ohyul would walk into the kitchen in the afternoon to find the two of you standing by the stove. Ryul would have his arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder while you stirred a pot of pasta sauce.
"Baby, you’re in my way" you’d giggle, your shoulders shaking as you tried to nudge him with your elbow. "I can't chop the garlic if you're holding me this tight."
"Don't care. You smell too good." Ryul would mumble into your neck, his large hands sliding down to rest on your hips, pulling your back flush against his chest. He would kiss your cheek, loud and obvious, just to make you blush.
Ohyul would walk past you and Ryul to grab a can of soda, his face a mask of absolute neutrality. He wouldn't say a word, his eyes never lingered on the domestic display. You would always freeze a little when Ohyul entered the room, your voice dropping to a polite murmur. "Oh...hi Ohyul"
"Hey" he’d mutter back, grabbing his drink and immediately retreating to his bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him like a barrier.
On weekends, it was the living room. Ryul would drag the heavy blankets from his bed onto the couch, turning the small television area into a nest. You would sit between Ryul’s legs, your back resting against his chest while some movie played quietly in the dark. Ryul’s fingers would be tangled in your hair, lazily stroking your scalp while you watched the screen, occasionally leaning up to feed him a piece of popcorn.
To Ohyul, it was an exhausting display of sentimentality. He didn't understand the need to be constantly attached, to have another person constantly occupying your space, your thoughts, your skin. Every time he had to leave his room to use the bathroom or get water, he felt like he was intruding on a world that had no room for him. So, he perfected the art of looking through you. When you spoke, he offered one-word answers. When you smiled politely at him in the hallway, he gave a curt nod and kept moving. He thought he was just maintaining boundaries. He didn't realize how his coldness was settling into the quiet spaces of the apartment.
The summer heat had settled heavily over the city, turning the apartment into a stagnant box despite the hum of the old air conditioner. It was a Tuesday evening. Ohyul was in his room, the lights off, the glow of his computer monitor casting sharp, blue shadows across his face. He was exhausted, his shoulders tense from a long day of remote meetings, but his mind was too wired to sleep.
Through the thin drywall that separated his bedroom from Ryul’s, he heard the faint sound of the front door opening and closing. Then, the soft murmur of voices. You were over again.
Inside Ryul’s room, the atmosphere was thick with a quiet, heavy tension. You were sitting on the edge of Ryul’s unmade bed, your knees pulled up to your chest, your chin resting on your kneecaps. Your shirt hung slightly loose over your frame, and your eyes were fixed on the floorboards, tracing the dark grain of the wood.
Ryul was sitting at his desk, turning on his computer but he stopped when he noticed the heavy silence hanging over you. He stood up, his large frame casting a long shadow across the bed as he walked over and sat down beside you. The mattress dipped under his weight.
"Hey" Ryul said softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "What's that face for? You've been quiet since we got back from dinner."
You let out a small, hesitant breath, your fingers tightening around the fabric of your socks. You tilted your head up slightly, your eyes swimming with a vulnerability that always made Ryul’s chest tighten.
"Can I ask you something?" you whispered, your voice barely carrying across the small space.
"Yeah, anything. What's wrong?"
"Does... does Ohyul hate me?"
The question made Ryul pause, his hand resting on your shoulder. He blinked, a look of confusion crossing his features before he let out a low, breathless chuckle. "What? Where is this coming from? Ohyul doesn't hate you"
"No, i swear he really does" you insisted, your voice cracking slightly as the insecurity built up in your chest. You let your legs drop, turning your body fully toward Ryul. "He never looks at me. When I say hi, he barely mutters a word back. Yesterday in the hallway, I tried to ask him how his day was, and he just... he walked right past me like I was invisible. It’s like he can’t stand being in the same room as me. It makes me feel like I’m breaking some rules just by being here."
Ryul’s expression softened, the amusement fading from his eyes as he saw the genuine distress on your face. He reached out with both hands, gripping your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You let out a soft gasp as your thighs straddled his, your chest pressing against his broad pecs.
"Listen to me," Ryul murmured, his voice dropping into that deep, gravelly tone he only used when he was entirely serious. He wrapped his large arms around your back, pulling you flush against his solid frame. "Ohyul is an asshole to everyone. He's been my best friend for years, and half the time, he treats me like a stranger too. He's just antisocial, y/n. He gets locked into his own head, his work, his routines. It has nothing to do with you. Trust me."
"Are you sure?" you whispered, your hands resting on his shoulders, your fingers digging slightly into the fabric of his t-shirt. "It just feels so personal. Like he's judging me."
"He's not judging shit," Ryul muttered, his eyes darkening as they dropped to your lips. The vulnerability in your eyes, the soft way your body was trembling against his—it was sparking something heavy and possessive in his gut. "And even if he was, it doesn't matter. This is my room. You're my girl. You don't need to care about him. You only need to care about me."
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, cutting off any further protest. The kiss was slow at first, a comforting pressure meant to soothe your doubts, but as you let out a soft, shaky sigh into his mouth, the rhythm shifted. Ryul’s hands slid down from your waist, gripping your thighs and squeezing them hard, lifting you up slightly so you were pressing harder against his growing dick.
"Let it go, princess." Ryul whispered against your lips, his hot breath fanning over your skin. "Forget about him. Just look at me."
You nodded against his mouth, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as the heavy, familiar warmth of his desire began to wash away the cold sting of Ohyul’s indifference.
n the adjacent room, Ohyul was still sitting at his desk. He had heard the initial murmurs, the soft, muffled cadence of your voices through the wall but he hadn't been paying attention to the words. He didn't care. He reached down, picked up his wireless earbuds from the desk, and shoved them into his ears. He turned on a heavy, lo-fi instrumental track, the deep bass thumping against his eardrums, a familiar wall of sound designed to isolate him completely.
He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes, waiting for his brain to turn off.
But the drywall in the old apartment was thin, and the bass wasn't loud enough to mask the shift in tone from the next room.
It started with a rhythmic creak. The old wooden frame of Ryul’s bed shifting under a sudden influx of weight. Ohyul’s eyes flicked open in the dark. He frowned, his fingers twitching against his thighs. He tried to focus on the music, turning the volume up until the synthetic drums were ringing in his ears.
Then came the first sound that bypassed the digital barrier completely.
It was a sharp, high-pitched gasp. Your voice. It wasn't the polite, quiet tone you used when you spoke to him in the kitchen. It was breathless, broken, and desperate.
Inside Ryul’s room, your clothes had already been discarded. Ryul had pulled over your shirt (originally his) with impatient, heavy hands, tossing it onto the floor where it landed with a soft whisper. He had pushed you back onto the mattress, his large body instantly hovering over yours, his knees parting your thighs with a rough, territorial urgency.
"Wait, the door—" you gasped out, your hands pressing against his chest as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth nipping at the soft skin right above your collarbone.
"It's locked. Forget the door" he growled, his voice thick with a feral sort of hunger. He reached down, unzipping his jeans with a harsh, metallic rattle that seemed to echo through the wall. He kicked them off, along with his boxers, his thick, rock hard cock instantly springing free, heavy and leaking with precum.
He didn't give you time to adjust. He grabbed your waist, his thumbs digging deep into your hips, leaving pale marks that would undoubtedly turn to bruises by morning. He lifted your legs, draping them over his broad shoulders, opening you up completely under the dim, ambient light of his computer monitor.
You looked up at him, your chest heaving, your bare breasts flattening and swaying with your frantic breaths. You were already slick, your body reacting to his heat before your mind could even catch up.
"Look at you," Ryul muttered, his eyes pitch black as he guided the thick head of his dick against your entrance. "So wet for your man. You're trembling."
"Please Ryul... just do it." you whimper, your hands gripping the bedsheets for dear life, your head tossing back against the pillows.
With a deep, guttural grunt, Ryul snapped his hips forward. He drove his cock deep inside you in one massive, unrelenting thrust, burying his entire length until his groin slammed hard against your ass.
"Ahhh! Fuck!"
The scream tore out of your throat, loud and uninhibited, a pure, raw reaction to the sheer size of him stretching your tight walls wide open. The sound was sharp, cutting through the quiet night like a blade.
Ohyul froze in his gaming chair.
The sound of your scream had penetrated his earbuds so clearly it felt like you were standing right behind him. The music playing in his ears suddenly felt distant, useless. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden, violent jolt of adrenaline spiking through his veins. His posture went completely rigid, his ears straining against the silicone tips of the earbuds.
He didn't want to hear it. He told himself he didn't care. But then came the rhythm.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
It was the unmistakable, heavy sound of skin clapping against skin. A wet, brutal friction that filled the silence of the apartment. Ryul had started moving, his pace immediate and feral, his hips jackhammering into your pussy with a violent, needy rhythm. Every stroke was heavy, his broad frame slamming down against yours, making the headboard of the bed strike the shared drywall with a dull, rhythmic thud.
Thud. Slap. Whimper.
Ohyul’s breath hitched in his throat. He reached up with trembling fingers, ripping the earbuds out of his ears and tossing them onto the desk. They clattered against the wood, but the sound was completely swallowed by the symphony of filth coming from the next room.
He could hear everything now,
Unfiltered.
Raw.
He heard the deep, animalistic groans tearing out of Ryul’s throat, the heavy, breathless grunts of his best friend pounding himself into a woman. But more than that, he heard you.
You were crying out. Your voice was a constant, high-pitched whine, a desperate loop of breathless moans and broken syllables.
"Ryul—ah! More... please—faster right there!" you sobbed, your voice muffled slightly, likely because Ryul was smothering your mouth with his kisses, but the high, whimper of your pleasure leaked through the drywall with agonizing clarity.
Ohyul felt a sudden, aggressive heat pool in his lower stomach. It was a physical reaction, immediate and uncontrollable. His sweatpants suddenly felt entirely too tight, the soft fabric straining against a sudden, raging erection that throbbed with every heavy slap of skin from the next room.
His mind screamed at him to stop. To put the headphones back on, to walk out of the apartment, to do anything else. But his body refused to move away from the sound. The sheer carnality of it. The wet, heavy friction, the desperate, trembling whines you were making, it was sliding into his ears and locking onto his brain like a virus.
"Fuck it" Ohyul hissed under his breath. His voice a gravelly whisper in the dark.
He stood up from his chair, his legs feeling heavy and unstable. He didn't turn on the lights. He moved through the shadows of his room like a predator, his eyes fixed on the shared wall. The thumping of the headboard was vibrating through the floorboards, a physical pulse that matched the frantic hammering of his own heart.
He approached the bed. He didn't lie down. Instead, he climbed onto the mattress, getting on his knees. He crawled forward until his knees were pressed against the edge, his body fully facing the bare, white drywall that separated his life from theirs.
Slowly without hesitation, he leaned forward. He pressed his left ear flat against the cold surface of the wall.
The audio quality changed instantly. It was like switching from a distant radio to a live performance. He could hear the squelch of Ryul’s pre-cum and your own wetness being churned between your bodies. He could hear the sharp, desperate in draws of your breath, the way your teeth clicked together when Ryul hit your sweet spot, the deep, rumbling dirty talk that Ryul was growling into your ear.
"You're so fucking tight, y/n... fuck, you're milking my dick" Ryul’s muffled voice vibrated through the wood.
"Ryul—Ryul, I'm gonna cum, please, don't stop!" you wailed, your voice breaking into a high, trembling whine that made Ohyul’s entire body shudder.
That whine. It was so pretty. So completely vulnerable. It was a sound Ohyul had never imagined you could make at all. The polite, quiet girl who always looked down when he walked past. To hear you broken down like this, reduced to nothing but a shaking, desperate mess of pleasure. It wrecked him.
Ohyul’s hand moved down on its own. His fingers hooked into the waistband of his grey sweatpants, pushing them down past his hips along with his boxers, freeing his thick, throbbing length. It was rock hard, hot to the touch, and already dripping a heavy bead of pre-cum from the sheer intensity of what he was listening to.
He gripped himself, his large palm wrapping tightly around his shaft. His knuckles were white, his veins standing out along his forearm as he began to stroke himself, his hand moving in perfect sync with the heavy rhythm of the skin clapping next door.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
He closed his eyes tight, his ear still glued to the wall. With his vision gone, his mind immediately filled the void with images.
He didn't see Ryul anymore. In his head, it was him standing over you in the dark bathroom. He imagined your breasts bouncing wildly in front of his face, the soft, heavy flesh jiggling with every rough stroke. He imagined his own hands cupping the undersides of your tits, lifting their weight and crushing them together while he buried his dick deep inside your soaking wet pussy.
He stroked faster, his thumb grinding against his own tip, mimicking the wet friction he was hearing.
He pictured your face, flushed, your lips parted, your eyes wide and swimming with tears as you looked up at him through the mirror. He imagined himself leaning down, his hot breath fanning over your neck, his lips brushing your ear as he growled the same filthy shit Ryul was saying.
"Fuck... y/n" Ohyul whispered into the dark room, his voice a tight, choked gasp.
Hearing your name leave his own lips sent a violent shockwave through his core. It felt dangerous. It felt forbidden. It was a line he had never crossed, a boundary he was actively setting on fire with every furious stroke of his hand. But the sound of your whines through the wall was like fuel on a wildfire. You were crying out louder now, your voice rising in pitch, your breath turning into a frantic, staccato panting.
"Ryul! Ryul, now—ah! I'm cumming!" you screamed out, your walls clamping down so hard next door that Ryul let out a loud, breathless roar of his own.
The sound of your climax, the pure, unadulterated sound of you breaking apart through the drywall shattered whatever control Ohyul had left. His hand blurred against his shaft, his strokes becoming violent, messy, and desperate. He was panting heavily, his chest heaving against the cold wall, his forehead pressing into the drywall as his hips twitched involuntarily.
He could picture it perfectly now. He imagined you on your knees under his desk, your breasts gathered together, squeezing his thick shaft tight in your cleavage while you looked up at him with those begging, vulnerable eyes. He imagined his cum erupting, painting your fat tits in thick, white ropes, splattering across your skin while you gasped for air.
"y/n... fuck fuck fuck" Ohyul whined, his voice dropping into a broken, needy whimper that mirrored yours.
His body went completely rigid. His toes curled into the bedsheets, and his abdomen tense into a painful, tight knot as his climax hit him with the force of a freight train. He let out a low, choked groan, his head snapping back as his cock pulsed violently, unleashing thick torrent of cum into his own hand and across his stomach and wall. He kept stroking through the spasms, his breath hitching, his entire body trembling as he squeezed out every last drop, his voice whispering your name one last time into the empty, dark room.
Next door, the heavy thumping slowly ground to a halt. The wet sounds of friction faded into the heavy, ragged breathing of two exhausted bodies. There was the faint sound of sheets shifting, a low murmur from Ryul, and then, a final, quiet silence settled over the apartment.
The sex was over.
Ohyul stayed on his knees for a long moment, his forehead still resting against the drywall. His hand was sticky, his chest heaving as his heartbeat slowly began to drop from its frantic peak. The heat that had consumed him just moments ago suddenly began to evaporate, leaving behind a cold, biting chill.
Slowly, he pulled himself away from the wall. He reached over to his nightstand, grabbing a handful of tissues, and wiped his hand and his skin clean. He pulled his sweatpants back up, his movements heavy and listless.
He crawled back to the center of his bed, collapsing flat onto his back. He stared up at the dark ceiling, the silence of the apartment now feeling heavy, suffocating, and incredibly loud.
The adrenaline was entirely gone now, replaced by a sudden, sickening drop in his stomach. The fog in his brain cleared, exposing the raw, ugly reality of what had just happened.
He turned his head to the side, looking at the bare wall.
A thought slammed into his mind, sharp and violent, cutting through his exhaustion like ice water.
What the fuck am I doing?
His fingers tightly gripped the fabric of his pillow, his jaw clenching so hard it ached. He had just spent the last twenty minutes on his knees, pressing his ear against a wall like a pathetic voyeur, listening to his best friend fuck. But it wasn't just that. He had used your voice. He had used your name. He had closed his eyes and vividly imagined his hands on your skin, his body inside yours, taking what belonged to the only guy who had ever had his back.
I just jerked off to my best friend's girlfriend.
The weight of the realization settled onto his chest, making it hard to breathe. Ohyul closed his eyes, letting out a long, shaky exhale through his teeth. The disgust was immediate, a bitter taste at the back of his throat. He had spent weeks pretending you didn't exist, treating you like an unwanted ghost in his space, only to turn around and use your vulnerability to satisfy his own self.
The apartment was quiet now. No more slaps. No more whines. Just the faint, rhythmic hum of the air conditioner in the hallway. But for Ohyul, the quiet was gone for good. He knows, Every time he would look at that wall, every time he would walk into the kitchen and see you standing there with Ryul, he would still hear that pretty, broken whine. He would remember the weight of his own hand, the sound of your name leaving his lips, and the forbidden fire that had just ruined the only stable thing he had left.
when ryul gets drunk, he becomes brutally honest. not the kind of honest that starts arguments or reveals secrets, but the kind of honest that makes it painfully obvious of how much he likes you.
which is unfortunate, for everyone else.
because sober ryul at least pretends to have self-control.
but drunk ryul?
absolutely not.
the second alcohol hits his system, he suddenly needs to be touching you at all times.
a hand on your waist. his arm around your shoulder. his chin resting on top of your head. his fingers tangled with yours. anything and everything.
he just simply refuses to leave you alone.
it starts about an hour into the party.
the music isn't too loud, and people are scattered around the room talking. and you're standing near the bar with one of your friends when you suddenly feel a familiar pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, without any warning and shame.
you don't even need to turn around to know who it is.
"hi, baby." his voice slightly slurred. not concerning, but enough to tell that he's definitely tipsy.
you laugh softly and glance over your shoulder.
"hi, ryul," he only hums in response, tightening his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder.
"you okay, babe?" you asked softly, turning your head slightly to look at him. one of your hands came up to gently cup his cheek, your thumb brushing across his skin.
ryul immediately leaned into your touch.
"mhmh..."
his eyes fluttered shut for a second, and he looked way softer than he did five seconds ago.
and you couldn't help but smile.
"yeah?" you teased quitely.
another hum.
and before you knew it, he was practically melting against you, all of his weight leaning onto your shoulder as if standing by himself had become way too much work.
"girl," your friend stared at the two of you, looking completely bewildered.
"does he always do this?"
you glanced down at the arms currently wrapped around your waist before laughing softly.
"pretty much."
"we're literally in the middle of a conversation."
before you could answer, ryul spoke up from behind you.
"doesn't matter."
your friend blinked.
"...i can hear and see you."
"good."
ryul tightened his hold around your waist immediately.
dramatically & possessively.
like he genuinely believed somebody might steal you if he let go for more than three seconds.
"she likes me more."
your friend burst out laughing.
"oh my god."
"it's true," ryul insisted.
you rolled your eyes.
"ryul."
"what?"
"you're being weird."
he gasps. like actually gasps. then lifts his head from your shoulder just to stare at you in disbelief.
"you think i'm weird?"
"...a little."
"wow."
he shakes his head dramatically before burying his face against your neck.
"i've never been more betrayed in my life."
it only gets even worse from here. because now that ryul has attached himself to you, he refuses to leave. and everywhere you go, he follows.
when you walk to the bar to get another drink, he's right behind you with his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
when you sit down on one of the couches, he immediately drops beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulders.
at one point, you leave to use the bathroom.
and when you come back?
he's already waiting outside the bathroom door. leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.
you stop in front of him, trying to hold back a smile.
"were you waiting for me?"
"yeah."
"...why?"
he blinks. once. like you've just asked the most ridiculous question imaginable.
"cause you left."
you stare.
ryul pouts slightly. like actually pouts.
"and i missed you."
your heart immediately betrays you.
"ryul."
"what?"
"i went to the bathroom for three minutes."
"longest three minutes of my life."
you laugh despite yourself.
and ryul immediately brightens. because apparently, making you laugh was worth standing outside a bathroom waiting for you.
which, honestly?
explains a lot about him.
"you're ridiculous."
"but you love me."
you roll your eyes, though the smile on your face gives you away immediately.
"maybe."
"maybe?"
he narrows his eyes dramatically.
"that's crazy. after i suffered for three whole minutes."
"you survived."
"barely."
before he can continue complaining, you reach up and gently cup his cheek.
the words die in his throat immediately.
then, before he can process what's happening, you lean forward and press a quick kiss against his cheek.
soft and warm, gone in a second.
and ryul freezes completely.
"...baby."
you laugh softly.
"what?"
he just stares at you. speechless for once in his life.
but then a slow grin starts spreading across his face. the kind that means he's about to become even more unbearable.
"do that again."
"absolutely not."
"please?"
"no."
"baby."
"ryul."
"baby."
you groan. immediately regretting it when he wraps his arms around your waist again, looking entirely too pleased with himself. because now he has a new reason to stay attached to you for the rest of the night.
the grin on ryul's face never disappeared after that.
not even a little.
if anything, it got worse.
because apparently one kiss on the cheek was enough to make him completely insufferable for the rest of the night.
he stayed attached to your side the entire time, his hand always finding yours the second you started walking. his fingers immediately intertwined with yours, holding on like he was afraid you'd somehow disappear again.
you can only laugh and let him.
because honestly? you were starting to get used to it.
the others, however, were not.
especially louis.
"hyung."
"what."
louis stared at the two of you in disbelief.
"you've followed y/n noona into four different spots tonight."
ryul glanced over.
"and?"
"and that's not normal."
"yes it is."
"NO IT ISN'T."
woojin who's beside him immediately nodded.
"he's right. this is actually getting concerning."
"thank you," louis said, pointing at woojin dramatically before turning back to ryul. "i saw you standing outside the bathroom waiting for her."
ryul frowned slightly.
"that's because she was in there."
louis and woojin blinked in disbelief.
"THAT'S NOT AN EXPLANATION."
you couldn't help but laugh.
which only made ryul smile.
"see?" ryul said, gesturing toward you proudly. "she gets it."
"she absolutely does not get it," louis shot back immediately.
"i do a little bit," you admitted.
"NOONA!"
"baby, thank you."
"STOP ENCOURAGING HIM."
ryul ignores him completely.
instead, he immediately reaches for your hand again.
things reach their peak when a random guy decided to sit beside you.
that's it. that's the crime.
and suddenly ryul looks offended. like someone personally insulted him.
you notice immediately.
mostly because his arm tightens around your waist.
"ryul."
"hm?"
"why are you glaring?"
"i'm not."
you look directly at him.
he looks directly at the random guy.
and the guy looks terrified.
"...babe."
"what?"
"you're definitely glaring."
"only a little."
"RYUL."
he sighs dramatically before finally looking away.
then, without warning, he gently cups your face and presses a kiss on your lips.
right there. in front of everybody. just because.
and your face immediately felt warm.
"what was that for?"
he shrugs.
"felt like it," ryul simply said.
of course he did.
later that night, when the party starts winding down and people begin heading home, you finally manage to get ryul into the passenger seat of your car.
which should've made things easier. but it doesn't. because now he has you all to himself.
the moment you start driving, he turns in his seat to face you completely.
and just... stares.
you glance over.
"why are you looking at me like that?"
"because you're pretty."
you almost missed a turn.
"ryul."
"what?"
"stop."
"i'm serious."
he sounds genuinely confused. like he doesn't understand why that's embarrassing.
"you're really pretty."
you can feel yourself smiling despite your best efforts.
a few minutes later, the car grows quiet.
you assume he's finally falling asleep.
until you feel his fingers finding yours across the center console.
holding your hand loosely and comfortably.
like he can't help himself.
and when you finally get home, you barely make it through the front door before ryul wraps himself around you again.
his arms slide around your waist immediately while his face disappears into your shoulder.
and for the first time all night, he's completely quiet.
"babe?"
he hums softly.
"you tired?"
another hum. but this one is sleepier.
you smile and run your fingers through his hair.
and he melts in an instant. the tension leaves his shoulders. his grip loosens slightly. and he leans into your touch without even realizing it.
"you know," you murmur softly, "you're very clingy when you're drunk."
you feel him smile against your shoulder.
"only when it's you."
and honestly?
you think that might be the sweetest thing he's said all night.
which is saying a lot.
because he's spent the entire evening attached to your side, kissing you whenever he felt like it, holding your hand every chance he got, and looking at you like you were the best thing in the room.
a few minutes later, he's asleep. half on top of you. arms still around your waist. completely unwilling to let go even in his sleep.
and as you sit there trapped beneath your ridiculously clingy boyfriend, gently brushing your fingers through his hair while he sleeps against you, you can't help laughing quietly to yourself.
because tomorrow morning, ryul is going to be so embarrassed.
but tonight? he's too busy loving you out loud to care.
─────────────────────────────────
HIIIIIIIII, I'M BACK WITH ANOTHER RYUL FIC. CUZ I'M JUST SIMPLY OBSESSED WITH HIM. AND I CAN'T HELP IT. HEHE.
hope you all enjoyed this one too! and enjoyed my other two ryul fic. thank you for reading my fic and giving it lots of love!
Imagine you’re sitting on his lap while he’s trying to play a game, your arms wrapped around his neck as you try to distract him. but because you're leaning in so close, your heavy, braless chest is resting right against his pecs, shifting and pressing flat against his solid chest with your every breath, driving him absolutely insane. he tries to ignore it for two seconds, his knuckles turn white on the controller, but the friction is too much.
he finally snaps, throws his controller down on the floor with a loud thud, and grabs your waist with bruising force.
"fuck it, i can't do this anymore" Ryul growls, his voice deep and completely wrecked. before you can even giggle, he hitches you up just enough to grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it completely over your head and tossing it somewhere in the dark room.
he freezes for a second, his eyes going pitch black as he looks at your massive tits bouncing slightly from the movement, spilling over your lap. a ragged, breathless "fuck" slips past his lips.
"look at you," he mutters, his big hands instantly cupping the undersides of your breasts, lifting their heavy weight. "you knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you? teasing your man like a little slut while i'm trying to focus."
"i just wanted your attention :( " you whisper, your face already flushing hot under his dark stare.
"well, you fucking got it."
instead of keeping you on his lap, Ryul suddenly hooks his large hands under your arms and lifts you up entirely. he guides you down off his thighs, steering you right between his legs toward the floor. as he pushes you down under the desk, his huge palm instantly cups the back of your head, his thick fingers cushioning your skull so you don't accidentally crack your head against the sharp wooden edge of the table. he keeps his hand firmly protecting you until you're completely dropped to your knees in the dark space beneath the desk, looking up at him.
"stay right down there" he commands, his voice vibrating in the small space as he leans back in his gaming chair.
he reaches down, unzipping his jeans with an impatient snap, and pulls his thick, rock-hard cock out. it’s already leaking pre-cum, glistening in the dim light of the computer monitor. he grips the back of your neck again, his thumb pressing into your jawline, forcing you to lean forward and look right at it.
"now lean forward, princess. squeeze them together around it" he orders, his breath hot as he leans down slightly.
you know exactly what he wants. you lean in, gathering your large breasts together with both hands, burying his thick shaft completely in the soft, tight valley of your cleavage. the second his tip pops out the top of your tits, ryul lets out the filthiest, most guttural groan you’ve ever heard.
"fuck, yes... right there. stay just like that," he pants.
he starts titty fucking you, slamming his hips forward in a violent, heavy rhythm. his cock slides fast and incredibly wet between your soft tits, the friction creating a slapping, squelching sound that fills the quiet space under the desk as your skin heats up. Ryul is staring straight down at you the whole time, his eyes wide and feral, watching your face distort and your lips part with every rough thrust.
"you like that, huh?" he growls, his voice dropping as he stares at you on your knees. "fuck, you're so soft... it feels so fucking good, yn. your big tits are choking my dick so tight."
"Ryul... it's too hot," you whimper, your hands gripping his thighs for balance as he pounds himself between your breasts, the friction making your nipples ache and harden against his skin. "you're going too fast..."
"i don't care" he gasps out, completely breathless, his thumbs digging hard into your skin as he snaps his waist forward even harder, burying every single centimeter of his leaking dick into your heavy chest. "you wanted my attention baby girl, so now you're gonna sit here and take every fucking inch of it."
he's panting like an animal now, his pace becoming completely feral as he nears the edge. his thrusts get shallower but twice as hard, his hips violently jackhammering into your cleavage. you can feel his shaft pulsing aggressively against your skin, getting even thicker as his breath hitches.
"fuck, yn, i'm gonna—i'm gonna paint these fat tits of yours," he chokes out, his voice dropping into a desperate, guttural whisper. "keep squeezing them, princess... squeeze them tight for your baby boy."
with one final, violent surge of his hips, Ryul cocks his head back, his entire body going rigid in the chair. a deep, trembling groan tears out of his throat as his cock erupts. he unleashes a massive, hot torrent of cum right between your breasts. heavy, thick ropes of white coat the tight valley of your cleavage, splattering up against your skin and dripping down the heavy curves of your breasts in warm, messy streaks.
he pants heavily, his chest heaving as his cock twitches out a few last drops against your skin. but he doesn't let you pull away. while still completely breathless, his eyes track the path of his cum dripping down toward your dark, swollen nipples.
"fuck, look at the mess we made" he murmurs, his tone dropping into something deeply needy.
without warning, he leans down under the table, bringing his face right back into your chest. his hot tongue licks a slow, messy stripe through the warm cum on your skin, tasting himself mixed with your sweat. you gasp, but before you can even react, Ryul locks his mouth directly onto one of your large nipples. he latches on hard, pulling the entire sensitive bud deep into his mouth and sucking it with a desperate, heavy hunger, his tongue swirling aggressively around the base while his hands squeeze your heavy breasts to force even more of your soft flesh into his mouth.
"Ryul—ah! stop, it's too sensitive," you whimper, arching your back under the desk as a sharp jolt of pleasure shoots straight down to your core.
he just lets out a muffled growl against your skin, refusing to let go, his lips locked tight around your nipple as he continues to suck you dry, completely marking his territory on your heavy chest
— All of these are @ryulcom works, please do not copy, translate or even repost to other platforms. Thank you.
﹕𝜗𝜚﹕ NOTES ; damn this part is so long compared to usually LMAOOO but it was an important moment sooo it had to be written right 😗 hope yall will enjoy it especially since we’re getting closer to the end with this tbh ahaha, also it wasn’t supposed to be a written part but i’ve decided to make one, it’s pretty short tho but i believe it was important. alsooo i think it’s good to tell that both the heejake and hoon series are in the same timeline now
﹕𝜗𝜚﹕ NOTES ; this shit angsty af LMAOOO my bad srry 😗
PART 12 — INDEX
As soon as you heard knocking on the door, you knew who it was. You were still pissed. The entire situation had made a mess out of you and at this point it felt hard to even understand your own desires.
Did you want to give him a chance ? Or was your relationship with Park Sunghoon meant to remain in the past ? You clearly had no idea, and you truly hoped for this conversation to give you the answers you needed.
You got up from the couch to open the door. When your gaze met his, your heart started beating faster, but you didn’t show it, not wanting to give him this satisfaction. Sunghoon looked very handsome and you could tell he spent some time preparing himself only to look good for you. You were pretty much the opposite. Dressed in a random black shirt and large sweatpants you clearly made no effort.
Yet his face brightened up right away. Time passed by and you hadn’t even realized just how bad you missed the way his lips shyly curled up in a tiny smile as if he tried to hide it.
‘Hi.’ He said first.
You looked down at his hands that were carrying a few bags and raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s that ?’ Sunghoon looked at you with the same soft expression when he explained that he had bought a few things. You tried to listen, but your eyes quickly got distracted by the large bouquet in his right hand.
Sunghoon stopped talking and followed your gaze, his smile growing wider as he realized you were liking the bouquet. ‘For you.’ He simply said, awkwardly handing you the flowers. You grabbed them and flashed him a little smile despite wanting to show more of your appreciation for this attention. But once again, you had to remain calm, and keep control over the situation.
‘Come in.’ You said, moving to the side to let him pass with his large plastic bags.
‘It’s 7pm, should I start cooking now or are you not that hungry yet ?’ He asked, getting more comfortable as he entered a space he knew too well after months of being together and hanging out with you at your apartment.
You put down the bouquet and took a picture, hoping for Sunghoon to not notice it as he was loudly taking the groceries out of the bags. But he stopped moving as soon as he spotted you, smiling at your phone while taking the picture.
It warmed his heart. Obviously, he had made the right choice and even though he wasn’t counting only on this to get you back, he felt that he was on the right path with this little gift.
You turned around and felt your cheeks burn a little when realizing that he was looking at you while you uploaded your story. You knew he’d see it later since you had posted it in public, but you didn’t want him to catch you at the very moment you snapped it.
‘Well… What are you cooking ?’ You asked, joining him in the kitchen where he had taken out all of the ingredients.
‘Onigiri.’ He responded and you giggled a bit. ‘Alright.’
Sunghoon pointed towards the ice cream he had been choosing earlier. ‘This is your favorite, right ?’ He asked and you immediately grabbed it and smiled, putting it in the freezer for later. ‘Yea… Thank you.’
The moment was slightly awkward at first. None of you knew what to say and Sunghoon felt pressured to be perfect. He couldn’t mess it up and he knew it. And it somehow turned him into an even more introverted person than he already was which felt quite funny as he didn’t think it was possible.
After a few minutes, you started playing music on your phone, sitting by the table, waiting as he was so focused on cooking. The conversation got more natural and you even caught yourself laughing at some of his jokes a few times, for his own happiness. He had missed this. He had missed your laugh, your smile, and the way he was so good at bringing it out. But moreover he had missed this feeling of being together.
‘There.’ He said, putting down your plate in front of you.
You smiled softly and poured two glasses of water. ‘Thanks.’ He said when you handed it to him.
‘So… Should I start ?’ You asked.
Sunghoon nodded, eyes fixated on you as he waited to hear what you wanted to tell him. He didn’t really need to think a lot to know already, because he knew what hurt you but he still felt that you needed to say it to him out loud since the last time you had a conversation in person was before the break up.
‘You know I’m not against you having girl friends, okay ? I’m not a naturally jealous person… But I’ve been jealous of Vivi.’ You admitted and Sunghoon frowned a bit. He wanted to hold your hand and promise you you had nothing to fear of her because, in his heart, he knew how he felt about Vivi and about you.
He loved you and only you. Vivi was only a part of his romantic past but he didn’t intend on going back to her, ever.
‘That’s why I don’t make any effort to get to know her. That and…’ You took a deep breath as you tried to think of how to formulate your next sentence. A delicate topic indeed, and you clearly didn’t want your calm conversation to grow into a heated argument instantly.
‘She’s clearly not friendly. Neither with you, nor with me. She wants you as more than a friend, and I’m afraid that you’ll grow feelings for her.’ You hid your face, feeling like crying.
Sunghoon instantly got up from his chair, and walked to you, to wrap his arms around you. ‘Don’t cry.’ He whispered, and you nodded, trying hard to fight the tears but you were feeling torn between the anxiety of having such a serious conversation, but also the pain caused by his lies, the betrayal you felt the night you heard the truth from a girl you hated rather than from the man you loved and moreover, the intense love that you felt for him.
‘I’m good.’ You whispered, exhaling slowly and Sunghoon instantly took a step back to give you some space, only keeping his hand on your head, caressing your hair before going back to his seat.
‘So I was saying, I know how your group of friends are. I know some of them cheated once or more. I’m not saying I don’t trust you but… When a girl as beautiful as Vivi is so close to you, I can't help but feel threatened. And I hate it.’
You took your glass and took a sip from the fresh water. Sunghoon looked at your face and he could tell you meant this. He was confident before coming here for this conversation and even after that, he was confident when he saw how comfortable you still were around him.
But as you said your deepest thoughts, he realized he might ruin it all with the truth he came to reveal.
‘Y/N… I have something to tell you.’ He looked at his plate, playing with his food as he was searching for his words.
His heart started beating so fast and the stress of finally saying it invaded his body. He sighed. ‘I should’ve told you before honestly but I was scared.’
You blinked slowly, looking at him and feeling fear. You expected the worst. Was he going to admit your biggest fear and say he cheated on you with her ? Was he going to say he liked her ? Your brain kept overthinking this although he hadn’t said anything yet.
Sunghoon looked at you. ‘I…’ He hesitated. He knew he had to say it, he owed it to you, but seeing the fear in your eyes genuinely hurt him. ‘You remember when I told you I had been only with one girl before you ?’
There. He started it. There was no going back and he knew it. He bit his lip, as he could feel your reaction wasn’t going to be good. He could tell by the way your eyes progressively lost their sparkles, as if you were realizing while he was talking.
‘It was Vivi.’
Silence.
There was only silence around the two of you after this revelation. No answer from you. No explanation from him. Both of you were waiting for time to pass by as if it’d mend your broken hearts but you could tell something shifted in the air.
If anything, as time passed by, your heart seemed to bleed even more, while his throat hurt him more and more.
‘I want you to leave.’ You said calmly.
Sunghoon frowned, a hurt expression all over his face as he tried to reach for your hand over the table but you quickly pulled away as if his touch burned you.
‘Y/N I-’ He started, quickly interrupted by your cold voice. ‘Leave.’
‘No. I don’t want to leave you. Not like that.’ He said, his eyes never once looking away from you and you focused on your anger rather than the pain you were feeling as you imagined just how much this relationship must’ve been important to him.
He hid it because he still loves her.
He never loved you, you were just a replacement.
You’re nothing compared to her.
Your brain kept torturing you with these thoughts, that were based on nothing but your own feelings and initial jealousy you felt towards her.
You got up from the chair and walked into the living-room, grabbing the bouquet he offered you, throwing it to him when he tried getting closer to you to comfort you.
‘Go away. I swear to fucking God, I do not want to see you again.’
Sunghoon tried reaching out for you but you slapped his hand away. ‘Get the fuck out of my apartment Sunghoon. I don’t wanna see you. I don’t wanna see your face. You disgust me. Move.’ You only showed the door, remaining cold and distant despite wanting to cry.
‘I love you Y/N.’ He said, his own eyes tearing up a little as he hated to see the way your body was shaking because of him.
‘Don't say these words. Get the fuck out.’ You emphasized every word, not feeling one bit of compassion for him even as he started crying in front of you for the first time ever. ‘Y/N…’
‘Go.’
Sunghoon waited but as you clearly didn’t seem to be willing to change your mind, he knew all he could do was to give you some space to digest the information.
‘I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you, Y/N. I promise you this is the truth.’ He simply said before taking his stuff and walking towards the door. He opened it, and as he was about to close it, the last thing he saw was you sitting down on your couch, covering your crying face and he hated that he could not even comfort you.
You were down because of him and he could just watch, powerless and guilty.
He never thought he’d grow this attached when he first got together with you, but as he was losing you, he felt like seeing all of his past mistakes and all he could do was to wish he could go back in time to change it. And now, his biggest fear was becoming his reality.
Condemned to see you suffering without doing anything.
Unable to reach out to you.
Left in the past as some mistake you’ll have made in your youthful life.
All that while he will remain in love with you forever.
📁 2026.works. ╰ 📂 JAKE : SMAU — best friend’s boyfriend!jake cheating on her with you (part13)
﹕𝜗𝜚﹕ NOTES : finally part 13 of @jaeyunsbabygirl i’m sooo sorry for the time im taking with the updates… 🫠🫠 im getting less time these days but hopefully next update wont take two weeks to be uploaded lol.. hope you’ll like it!! alsooo you finally have an idea of what hee did.. but it’s not detailed yet soo i will be looking forward to your reactions
content: smau ⟡ tattooartist!riki x reader ⟡ profanity ⟡ suggestive ⟡ riki lowkey in love with reader
a/n: sorry if this feels like its moving fast im lowk trying to keep this series short and sweet if possible... 🥀 just assume theres time passing between texts...
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