( ๑ ✉️ ๑ ) welcome to my little corner of the internet! i write mostly about [Kwon Ohyul & Kim Ryul]. thanks for stopping by, and i hope you enjoy your stay! (* ᵕ * ) 💕
— All of these are @ryulcom works, please do not copy, translate or even repost to other platforms. Thank you.
I neeeedd a fic of either Ryul or Ohyul fcking reader in the studio
(like yk those songs with the moans in the background or smth like that?) UGHHHHHH
The studio was dead silent, illuminated only by the ambient glow of the equipment monitors casting long shadows across the soundproofed walls.
Ryul had locked the heavy door the moment you walked in, stripping away the professional boundaries of the workspace in an instant.
He didn't waste any time with gentleness. Ryul grabbed your waist, his large hands anchoring tightly against your hips as he forcefully bent you over the edge of the wide mixing console.
Your palms pressed flat against the cool, smooth surface of the desk, your upper body pushed down low while your rear was lifted high, completely exposed to him from behind.
"Keep your mouth shut." Ryul muttered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp right against the back of your neck. His breath was hot, laced with an unhinged urgency that made your pulse skyrocket.
"You know how easily sound carries out into the hallway."
You nodded blindly, biting down hard on your own wrist to muffle the frantic gasps already tearing from your throat.
Without a shred of hesitation, Ryul aligned his length against your soaking wet entrance and drove forward in one deep thrust.
The sudden, bottoming out fullness made your eyes widen in sheer shock, a choked whimper catching in your throat as your tight walls stretched to accommodate him. He didn't give you a second to adjust, immediately setting a punishing pace from behind.
The friction was intense, the wet sounds of his pelvis slamming against your bare ass cheeks echoing softly in the enclosed room. The illicit thrill of the locked studio and the absolute need for silence pushed your body right over the edge. The overwhelming stimulation coiled tight in your lower stomach, and before you could even try to fight it, a sudden wave of pleasure crashed through you.
Your internal muscles convulsed in a massive, involuntary spasm, and your body completely buckled as you squirted, a heavy rush of fluid drenching his dick and spraying against the console beneath you.
A deep sense of intense shame instantly washed over you at how completely undone you were.
"Ryul—oh god, I'm sorry.." you wept silently, your face burning with heat as you tried to hide your face in your arms.
But seeing your undone state and feeling the wet gush of your release only made Ryul completely lose his restraint. His dark eyes dilated with a predatory hunger.
"Look at what you did." he growled, his voice dropping into a unhinged register. "Look how wet you are for me."
To punish your body for being so sensitive, Ryul raised his large palm and brought it down hard against your bare ass cheek with a sharp, resounding slap.
The stinging pain zapped straight to your pussy, making you let out a muffled shriek against your arm.
He didn't stop. His thrusts turned completely aggressive, his heavy hips driving into you with brutal force while his hand came down again and again, ruthlessly slapping your flesh until both of your cheeks were flushed a deep red and throbbing with stinging heat.
"Please... Ryul— it's too much" you sobbed into the desk, your knees shaking so violently you could barely keep yourself propped up against the console.
"Hold yourself up baby" he commanded, his grip on your hips turning to iron as he pinned you down, his heavy pacing driving you completely into the mattress of his rhythm, filling you so deeply with every aggressive stroke that you could do nothing but endure the burning, overwhelming pleasure of him claiming you in the dark.
Ryul didn’t slow down for a second. The soaked heat between your thighs only grew louder, the heavy friction making it impossible for you to regain your footing. His hand stayed clamped on your hip, fingers digging into your flesh to anchor you as he kept up that pace from behind.
Your skin was throbbing, a fierce, stinging heat radiating from where his palms had repeatedly marked your backside. Every time his pelvis slammed against you, the contact sent a double jolt of sharp pain and blinding pleasure straight up your spine.
"You're shaking." Ryul whispered, his voice a ragged, breathless growl right against your ear. He leaned his upper body down, pressing his heavy chest flat against your back, completely pinning you to the mixing console.
His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your shoulder, biting down just hard enough to keep you anchored.
"Hold it together. Don't you dare cum on me."
"Ryul—please, you know I can't" you whimpered, your fingers blindly clawing at the edge of the desk, trying to find some kind of leverage.
Your tight walls were spasming erratically around his dick, completely sensitive and raw from the sheer depth of his thrusts.
"oh i know you can"
Your compliance only made him more aggressive. He shifted his angle slightly, lifting your hips even higher to bury himself to the absolute root with every single drive. The friction was relentless. The overwhelming shame of squirting all over his equipment earlier had morphed into a needy ache, your body begging for the final release but trapped under his absolute control.
"You like being ruined like this, don't you?" he muttered, his dirty talk dropping into a gravelly register that completely left your brain.
He reached around, his large fingers gripping your chin and forcing your head back so you had to look at his dark, blown out eyes in the reflection of the monitor.
"Look at yourself slut. Totally wrecked for me. Tell me how good it feels."
You couldn't even form words, a broken breathless sob slipping past your lips as he hit your deepest point three times in rapid succession.
With a low grunt, Ryul pulled out almost completely, letting the cold air hit your soaking wet skin for a split second before slamming back inside you with a heavy, deafening slap.
The sudden, intense fullness drove you straight over the edge. Your vision went entirely dark as another violent, shattering orgasm tore through your core, your internal walls clamping down around him like a vice.
The tight heat of your climax completely broke Ryul's restraint. His pace turned frantic, his hips driving into you in a ruthless, blinding blur as he rode out your contractions.
With a deep, guttural roar, he buried himself as deep as he could go, locking his hips against yours as a thick, hot torrent of his cum pumped deep inside you, leaving both of you completely spent and trembling in the silent studio.
Ryul didn’t give you even a second chance to breathe after that initial release. While your body was still trembling, your internal walls pulsing and weeping around him, his hands tightened on your waist like iron bands. He pulled back out to the very head of his cock and drove straight back in, the unyielding length stretching you open all over again.
A loud, broken sob tore from your throat, the sound echoing sharply against the acoustic foam of the studio.
"I didn't tell you that you could stop" Ryul growled, his voice register that vibrated straight through your spine. He leaned down, pressing his heavy chest flat against your back, pinning you ruthlessly to the console. His breath was hot and ragged against your wet neck.
"You think just because you cum, we're done? Look at how tight you're still gripping me. You're starving for it. You want this cock so bad like how i want your pussy"
If it weren't for his iron grip holding your hips high, you would have collapsed onto the floor. He set an even rougher, more aggressive pace than before. His pelvis slamming against your bruised, burning backside with violence.
"Ryul—no, please. it's too much, it hurts so good—"
You cried out, your fingers desperately clawing at the metal edges of the mixing board, trying to find any leverage to push back against his sheer power.
"Tell me what you want" he commanded, entirely ignoring your pleas as he kept driving into you, his tip hitting your g-spot with a punishing precision that made your mind go completely blank.
He reached around with one large hand, his fingers roughly gripping your jaw, forcing your face up so he could look down at your tear stained expression.
"Say it. Tell me you want me to ruin you in here. Tell me you want every drop of my seed leaking out of you onto this floor."
The absolute filth coming out of his mouth completely ruined whatever modesty you had left. You shook your head blindly, tears spilling down your cheeks as the raw weight of his words pushed your arousal back to a fever pitch.
"I want it... please, Ryul, fuck me harder,"
You begged, completely broken, your voice a desperate, breathless whisper. "Destroy me. Fill me up again."
A dangerous smirk cut through his features at your submission.
"That's my good girl." he whispered roughly.
He let go of your jaw and brought his large palm down with a massive, deafening crack right across your already throbbing, dark ass cheek. The stinging heat was agonizingly sharp, a violent jolt that caused your pussy to clamp down around him in a desperate.
Ryul let out a low, unhinged grunt at the sudden tightness. He completely abandoned all restraint, his pace turning into a ruthless, blurring assault.
He was using his entire body weight now, lifting your hips high and slamming down into your core with a heavy, wet force that had the heavy studio desk groaning under the pressure.
Every single stroke was deep, loud, and entirely uncompromising, driving you straight toward another shattering, violent climax before you had even recovered from the first.
The rough pace finally broke you completely. Your internal walls clamped around him in an air tight vice as a devastating orgasm shattered your remaining restraint, forcing a loud, unchecked cry from your lips.
The crushing tightness was too much for Ryul to fight. With a final, deep buck of his hips that buried his cock to the absolute root, he let out a whine and flooded you completely.
For a few long minutes, the only sound in the dark studio was the synchronized sound of your breathing. He kept his weight pressed against your back, letting the heat of the moment slowly settle.
Then, the heavy tension broke, replaced by a protective stillness.
Ryul slowly pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness leaving you shivering against the cool air of the room. Your legs were still trembling violently, and you sank down slightly against the edge of the console, completely spent.
He didn't leave you alone in the dark. Ryul reached over to his bag, zipping it open to pull out a small pack of thick tissues. He stepped back between your knees, his large hands surprisingly gentle now as he supported your thigh. Leaning down, he carefully and thoroughly wiped the slick mixture of your fluid and his semen from your inner thighs and your swollen core, cleaning you with patient, unhurried strokes until your skin was dry.
Once he finished, he didn't immediately pull away.
While still resting on his knees before you, Ryul leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss directly against your sensitive center. The warm touch of his lips against your raw skin sent a completely different kind of shiver up your spine, sealing the silent, fierce possessiveness of the night before he stood up to help you gather your clothes.
The frantic energy of the room completely dissolved, leaving only the quiet hum of the studio monitors and the gentle cooling of the air conditioner.
Ryul helped you up from the console, his movements slow and careful as he guided your trembling legs across the room. He led you over to the plush leather couch tucked into the corner of the studio, out of the direct glare of the equipment lights.
He settled you down against the soft cushions, immediately grabbing his oversized flannel jacket from the back of his chair and draping it over your shoulders like a heavy blanket. It smelled entirely of him.
"Lay down," he murmured, his voice dropping into a soft, gravelly whisper that felt like a physical caress against your raw senses. He knelt beside the couch, his finger reaching up to gently brush a few damp strands of hair away from your flushed cheek.
"You're completely exhausted. Your legs are still shaking."
You leaned into his touch, your eyelids already heavy from the sheer weight of the release. "Are you coming with me?" you breathed out, your voice barely audible.
"Not yet, sweetheart" Ryul replied softly, his thumb tracing your jawline with an uncharacteristic tenderness that made your chest ache. He gave you a small smile, his dark eyes warm in the dim light.
"I've got a melody stuck in my head from earlier, and if I don't lay it down now, I'm going to lose it. I need to get some songwriting done while the studio is quiet."
He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting his lips rest there for a quiet second.
"Just close your eyes and take a nap right here," he whispered against your skin, tucking the jacket tighter around your shoulders. "I'll be right over at the desk. I won't turn the speakers up. I'll use the headphones so you can sleep."
You nodded sleepily, pulling the jacket up to your chin as you curled your knees toward your chest. The stinging heat on your skin had faded into a dull, comforting warmth.
Ryul stood up quietly, casting one last possessive look over your resting form before walking back to the mixing console. He slid his large studio headphones over his ears and dimmed the main monitor lights even further, plunging your corner into a cozy, protective shadow.
As you drifted off to sleep, the last thing you saw was the silhouette of his broad shoulders hunched over the glowing keys, his fingers moving softly, writing the music that you had inspired.
From the moment you and Ryul started dating, his hands developed a mind of their own. It didn't matter if you were alone in his bedroom, standing in the kitchen, or walking down a secluded hallway.
Ryul was unapologetically obsessed with your ass. He simply couldn't keep his hands off it.
"You're doing it again Kim Ryul" you gasped, your breath catching as his large, warm palms squeezed your bare cheeks, lifting you slightly so you were flush against his front.
"Can't help it." Ryul murmured against your neck, his voice dropping into that low register that always made your knees weak.
"It's perfect. So soft, so round. It's literally made for my hands."
You were currently sitting on his lap on the edge of the bed, completely naked, and his thumbs were idly tracing the soft curve where your thighs met your buttocks, sending constant shivers straight up your spine.
He squeezed firmly, his fingers digging into the plush flesh, kneading you like he was trying to imprint himself into your skin.
He didn't waste any time letting you know just how worked up his obsession made him. Ryul shifted, laying you flat on your stomach across the mattress.
You let out a soft whimper as the cool air hit your back, but the sensation was immediately replaced by the intense heat of Ryul’s gaze. He stood over the bed for a second, just staring at your exposed backside, his eyes dark and dilated with pure hunger.
"God, look at you sweetheart" he panted, his hands coming down to rest on your hips.
He bent you over the edge of the bed, lifting your hips high while your chest rested against the pillows. He smoothed his hands over your skin, his palms sweeping down your lower back to cup your cheeks, spreading them slightly to look at your soaking wet pussy dripping right beneath his favorite view.
He leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your thigh, biting softly before his tongue lashed out to lap at your wetness.
"Baby... Fuck—" you begged, your fingers clutching the sheets as the friction began to wind you tight.
He stood up, the sharp hiss of his zipper echoing in the quiet room. A second later, the length of his rock hard cock brushed against your inner thighs.
He didn't just slide inside right away, he rubbed the precum slick head right along your opening, his pelvis grinding hard against your ass cheeks, using your plush flesh to friction tease his own length.
"Squeeze it for me" he growled near your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Tighten your ass around me sweetheart."
With a sudden, heavy thrust of his hips, Ryul buried his entire cock deep inside your tight pussy.
A loud gasp tore from your throat as you were completely filled from behind. Ryul let out a guttural groan, his head rolling back as your internal muscles immediately clamped down around his thick shaft like a vice. He didn't wait a single second to establish pounding rhythm.
He began to slap his hips violently against your bare ass, the wet sound filling the room. Every deep, relentless thrust drove him all the way inside you, stretching your walls open before pulling back just far enough to tease you, only to slam home again.
His hands never left your cheeks, he kept his large fingers dug deep into your flesh, squeezing and lifting your ass with every single brutal slam of his hips to force himself even deeper.
"So tight—" Ryul gasped, his pace becoming completely unhinged. He reached one hand around to your front, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it ruthlessly in perfect time with his heavy thrusts, while his other hand remained firmly planted, crushing your left butt cheek.
The dual stimulation of his thick cock stretching you inside and his hand ruthlessly working your clit, combined with the heavy weight of his body grinding against your backside, pushed you straight over the edge.
"Ryul! I'm cumming—" you screamed into the pillow.
Your pussy clamped down on his cock in rhythmic spasms as a shattering orgasm ripped through you. The sudden, intense tightness of your climax completely broke Ryul’s restraint.
He let out a loud, breathless roar, his fingers digging into your ass so hard he'd leave bruises, and with three fast, brutal thrusts, he buried himself as deep as possible, shooting his semen deep inside your walls.
He collapsed heavily against your back, his chest heaving as he kept his weight pinned over you, his hands still loosely cupping your ass, completely content and entirely obsessed.
Ryul didn't pull out of your tight warmth right away. He lay heavily against your back, his chest rising and falling in deep, ragged breaths as his heart gradually slowed down.
His hands remained firmly cupped around your ass, his fingers idly kneading the soft, sweat slicked flesh as if he still couldn't bear to lose contact with it.
Only when his thick cock finally began to soften. He slowly slide out of you with a wet sound. You let out a weak whimper at the sudden emptiness, your muscles trembling from the intensity of the climax.
But Ryul wasn't done worshiping his favorite part of you.
Instead of moving away, he shifted his weight and turned your body around, making you facing the ceiling. He sliding down the mattress until his face between your spread thighs. Your hips were still elevated, completely exposing your swollen cunt with his cum flowing out.
The sight of his white cum slowly leaking out of your opening and running down your plush skin made his breath hitch all over again.
He leaned down, burying his face directly into your soaking wet folds.
"Ah... Ryul" you gasped, your fingers tightening into the pillows as his hot tongue lashed out, greedily lapping up the cream and your own sweet juices with slow strokes.
He was completely unbothered by the mess, devouring you with an eager, desperate hunger. He need to taste you.
Because of how closely he pressed his face against your skin, the blunt tip of his nose kept rubbing firmly over your clit with every single movement of his mouth.
The contrast was maddening. While his wet, flat tongue swirled ruthlessly around your opening to clean you out, the constant, heavy friction of his nose sliding right across your swollen peak sent sharp, localized jolts of pure electricity straight down your spine.
"baby, wait—it’s too much," you sobbed out, your hips instinctively twitching upward to meet the pressure, your toes curling tightly against the sheets.
He didn't slow down. He let out a low groan against your skin, the vibration trembling right against your wet folds. He used his large hands to spread your ass cheeks wide, pulling you open even further so he could bury his face deeper.
Every time he dragged his tongue upward, his nose ground hard against your clit, keeping you trapped on the very edge of another shattering release.
You were completely helpless, pinned beneath his obsessive, dripping mouth as the bedroom filled with the sloppy, wet sounds of him thoroughly consuming you.
It was absolute torture, a beautiful, agonizing sensory overload. Every time Ryul dragged his flat, wet tongue upward from your opening, the blunt tip of his nose flattened hard against your clit, grinding over the swollen nub with an unrelenting pressure.
"Ryul—ah! Please, stop, I’m cum again on your face—" you cried out, your voice completely cracking as you tried to wiggle your hips away from his face.
But he wasn't having it. Ryul’s grip tightened on your ass cheeks, his fingers digging deep into the plush flesh to anchor you firmly against the mattress.
He pinned you in place, refusing to let you escape the maddening friction. He let out a low muffled growl against your skin, a sound of obsessive hunger and increased his pace.
The wet slapping sounds of his mouth devouring you filled the quiet bedroom. He sucked your sensitive lips into his mouth, suck it while imagining it was your mouth lips. His tongue swirling aggressively, while his nose continued to ruthlessly press and rub against your clit in a tight rhythm.
Your mind completely short circuited. The deep throbbing between your thighs wound tighter and tighter in a matter of seconds. Your internal muscles began to spasm, desperately seeking release from the constant, heavy friction of his face against your center.
"Ryul! Ryul!" you screamed into the pillows, your back arching off the bed.
With one final, deep lap of his tongue and a heavy, grinding nudge of his nose, he pushed you straight over the edge. Your body shuddered violently as a fresh, shattering orgasm ripped through your lower half. Your pussy pulsed in rapid, intense waves, spraying your slick wetness directly onto his lips and nose.
Ryul didn't pull back for a single second. He drank you in, swallowing your climax greedily, his tongue catching every drop of your release while his nose kept grinding against your twitching clit until your legs went entirely numb.
When your body finally went limp, trembling and thoroughly spent, Ryul slowly lifted his head. His entire face from his lips to the tip of his nose was completely covered in your juices and the remnants of the white semen.
He looked absolutely ruined, his eyes dark, blown out, and entirely dazed with satisfaction but at least he liked it.
He crawled up your body, sliding his heavy frame on top of you and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He let out a long, ragged sigh, his large hands resting securely on your hips, completely content to stay pinned right there against his absolute favorite view.
After a few more minutes of lying completely spent under his heavy frame, Ryul slowly shifted his weight off you. He looked down at you, his dazed expression softening into something incredibly sweet.
"Come here," he murmured, his voice rough and low.
He didn't make you walk. Ryul slid his arms under your knees and back, lifting your trembling, jelly like body into his arms. You instinctively buried your face in his neck, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders as he carried you out of the bedroom and into the dimly lit bathroom.
He had already left the hot water running earlier, and the room was completely filled with thick steam. Ryul carefully lowered both of you into the deep porcelain tub.
The moment the hot, bubbly water hit your skin, a long, shaky sigh of absolute relief tore from your throat. Your muscles, tight and aching from the intense orgasms, immediately began to unwind.
Ryul sat back against the edge of the tub, pulling your back flush against his chest so you were sitting securely between his thighs. The water swirled around your waists, instantly washing away the sticky remnants of semen and sweat from your skin.
He reached for a soft washcloth and the bottle of lavender body wash. After working up rich lather, Ryul began to wash you with an incredibly gentle rhythm. His large hands moved over your shoulders, down your arms, and across your stomach, his touch completely devoid of the frantic, demanding energy from earlier. This was pure comfort.
When he reached your hips, his fingers idly brushed against the soft curve of your ass under the water. He let out a low chuckle, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your wet shoulder.
"Still so soft." he whispered teasingly, though his grip remained gentle as he carefully cleaned between your thighs, making sure you were completely fresh and comfortable.
You leaned your head back against his collarbone, closing your eyes as the warmth of the water and the steady, solid beat of his heart against your back completely soothed your mind.
Ryul discarded the washcloth and wrapped his arms securely around your waist under the water, pulling you as close as possible. He was perfectly content just holding you, resting his chin on your head as you both soaked in the quiet, peaceful afterglow.
The warm water lapped gently against your chests as Ryul tightened his arms around you, pulling you so close that there wasn’t a single inch of space left between his front and your bare back. The heat from earlier had completely dissolved into something so tender it made your chest ache.
He leaned his jaw against your wet shoulder, his breath coming in soft, steady puffs against your skin.
"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. To have bath with you after sex." Ryul murmured, his voice dropping into a quiet, vulnerable register you rarely showed anyone else.
He lifted one hand out of the water, his long, damp fingers gently turning your chin so you had to look back at him. His eyes were incredibly soft, reflecting the dim bathroom light.
"Not just the sex... Just want to holding you like this."
Your cheeks flushed a fresh pink under his steady gaze.
"I used to watch you from across the room at school," he confessed, a small, selfdeprecating smile tugging at his lips. He began to trace the line of your collarbone with his thumb, his touch light as a feather.
"You always seemed so quiet, completely in your own world. I was actually terrified to talk to you at first. The school fuckboy, completely tongue tied because a girl looked too perfect to disturb."
He laughed softly, the vibration rumbling deeply against your spine. He leaned forward, pressing a sweet kiss to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, making a tiny shiver run down your body.
"I want to know everything about you," he whispered against your skin, his hand sliding down to interlace his fingers tightly with yours under the water, squeezing your palm.
"I want to know what your favorite songs are when you're sad. I want to know what you dream about. I want to be the guy you call when you can't sleep at three in the morning."
He shifted his weight slightly, lifting you just enough to turn you around in the tub so you were facing him. Your knees framed his hips, and your hands instinctively found his broad, wet shoulders for balance.
Ryul looked up at you, his thumb gently wiping away a stray drop of water from your cheek. The sheer adoration in his eyes was overwhelming enough to make anyone blush.
"I'm completely obsessed with you, y/n." he said softly, his voice completely raw and honest.
"And it’s not just your body. I'm falling so hard for all of you. You're stuck with me now okay sweetheart? I can never let you go."
He leaned in, closing the distance between you not with hunger, but with a deep sweet kiss. His lips parted yours gently, tasting you with a quiet reverence that told you louder than any words ever could just how deeply loved you were.
When the kiss finally parted, he didn't pull away completely. Ryul rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he let out a long, contented sigh. His hands remained settled securely on your waist under the water, his thumbs lazily brushing over your skin.
"Let's get out of here before we turn into prunes." he teased softly, the familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes, though it was softened by pure affection.
He stood up first, stepping out of the tub and wrapping a large, plush towel around his waist before instantly reaching back to help you out.
He didn't let you dry yourself. Instead, he took a second towel and gently patted your skin dry, treating you like something incredibly precious.
Once you were both warm and wrapped in his oversized, comfortable hoodies, he led you back to the bedroom. The bed had been hastily straightened, the clean sheets smelling faintly of his cologne. Ryul slid under the heavy comforter first, opening his arms wide in an unspoken invitation.
You didn't hesitate, immediately crawling into his space and resting your head directly over his steady, beating heart. He wrapped his long legs around yours and pulled the duvet up to your chins, completely sealing out the cold air.
"Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you." he whispered into your hair, his grip tightening just enough to let you know you were completely safe.
Tangled in his warmth, listening to the rhythmic lilt of his breathing, you finally closed your eyes, drifting into a peaceful sleep, entirely secure in the knowledge of just how deeply you were loved.
— All of these are @ryulcom works, please do not copy, translate or even repost to other platforms. Thank you.
HUZZY NO DONT LEAVE ME I CANT LIVE WITHOUT UR FICS
baby you'll be fine 😂😄😗🙂🥹😗🥰😉🥲😉🥰😉🥹 No worries. I'll try my best to atlest post one fic once a month. I'm not playin. I gotta go. Btw anyone watch world cup? Which country you hope to win? 👀👀
SUMMARY — ✦ When you move in with your attentive boyfriend, Ryul, you expect a cozy domestic life. Instead, you face the biting coldness of his anti-social roommate, Ohyul. Believing he completely despises you, you have no idea that the apartment's paper-thin walls are leaking your loudest, most private moments directly into Ohyul's bedroom. Sparking a dark, depraved obsession that threatens to shatter a lifelong brotherhood.
cherié chat: hello everyone 🥹. I don't believe the time has come. Today, I'm posting the final chapter of Behind the Drywall. Thank you to everyone who stayed with this story from the beginning, waited patiently for every update, and showed it so much love. Your support has meant more to me than you'll ever know. It's hard to let this story go, but every story deserves its ending. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I love you all. 🤍 and now... I present to you the closure of Behind the Drywall. (words: 20K)
⚠️Content Warning ⚠️ : If you are sensitive, I highly recommend not reading this part. This section contains incredibly sensitive topics, mention of self-harm, and deeply distressing actions and words that will make people uncomfortable. Your emotional safety comes first. Please proceed with caution, and please remember that this is just fiction and do not take it seriously.
Your manic laughter slowly tapered off into a sharp, icy smile. You drained the last drop of vodka, the burning liquid fueling the reckless, venomous adrenaline pumping through your veins.
Let them have their little masculine standoff. Let them feel brave. You were bored of this apartment, and you were thoroughly bored of their predictable reactions.
You walked into the bedroom, completely ignoring Ohyul as he zipped his duffel bag in the hallway. You threw on a tight, revealing black dress, touched up your makeup until your eyes looked and grabbed your keys. You didn't say a single word to Ohyul as you walked past him, slamming the front door shut behind you.
You didn't go far. Right down the street, less than a ten minute walk from the apartment, was Spirited Underworld, a loud and smoky nightclub they all used to frequent.
The bass was already thumping against your chest the second you walked through the doors. The flashing strobe lights washed over you as you bypassed the crowded dance floor and went straight to the bar.
Within ten minutes, you had a fresh drink in your hand and a tall, handsome stranger with his hand resting casually on the small of your back.
You threw your head back, laughing loudly at whatever the stranger was saying, making sure you looked radiant, untouchable, and completely single like an angel.
Then, you pulled out your phone.
With a cruel, calculating smirk, you opened your Instagram app, set it to your 'Close Friends' story, a list that only included Ryul and Ohyul and took a quick, blurry video.
The camera panned from your flashing smile, down to your drink, and lingered just long enough on the stranger’s hand gripping your hip, before cutting off.
You hit upload.
Back at the apartment, the tension was a ticking time bomb. The front door opened and Ryul walked in, looking pale and completely drained from his shift. He stopped dead in his tracks, seeing the splintered coffee table and Ohyul standing in the hallway, holding a packed duffel bag.
"Ohyul?" Ryul asked, his voice tight, the anger from the night before rushing right back to the surface. "What the hell is this? Where is y/n?"
Ohyul dropped his bag heavily onto the floor. His jaw was set, his expression grim.
"She left. And before I leave too... Ryul, you need to sit down. We need to talk about what's been happening behind your back. Every single bit of it."
Ryul’s chest heaved. He braced himself, ready for the devastating truth that was about to ruin his life.
BZZZ.
BZZZ.
Both of their phones buzzed simultaneously in their pockets.
It was a synchronized notification. Automatically, driven by the months of toxic conditioning you had put them through, both men pulled out their phones.
The silence in the room became absolute as the video loaded. They watched the strobe lights. They saw you laughing. And then they saw a completely random man’s hand sliding up your thigh in the VIP booth of the club right down the street.
The grand confession died instantly in Ohyul’s throat. The burning fury in Ryul’s eyes completely shifted targets.
"Is that… Spirited Underworld?" Ryul whispered, his voice shaking, his phone nearly cracking under the grip of his white knuckles.
Ohyul stared at the screen, the righteous dignity he had felt five minutes ago completely evaporating, replaced by a toxic, possessive jealousy that made his blood boil. He couldn't care about telling the truth anymore.
Some stranger was touching his toy.
"She's there right now." Ohyul growled, his gravelly voice dripping with venom as he kicked his duffel bag out of the way.
"We're going there." Ryul said fiercely, already turning back toward the front door, his heartbreak completely swallowed by obsessive rage.
The two best friends, who had been seconds away from tearing each other's lives apart with the truth, walked out of the apartment shoulder to shoulder, completely united by the desperation need to drag you back. All of their brave words meant absolutely nothing the second you pulled the strings.
The bass at Spirited Underworld was a deafening, rhythmic thud that vibrated straight through the floorboards. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and cheap perfume.
You sat in a dark, secluded booth near the back corner of the club. The stranger from your video was leaning over you, his hands gripping your waist. You looked right past his shoulder, your eyes fixed on the entrance of the club, a expectant smile playing on your lips.
You knew exactly how long it took to walk from the apartment to the club. 10 minutes at least. Add two minutes for them to push through the crowd.
Right on cue, two massive silhouettes burst through the front doors, cutting through the sea of dancing bodies like twin storms. Even in the dim light, Ryul’s sharp eyes and Ohyul’s towering frame were impossible to miss. They were scanning the room, their faces twisted into masks of possessive rage.
You didn't blink. As soon as you caught Ryul’s eye from across the crowded room, you reached up, wrapped your arms around the stranger's neck, and pulled him down into a deep kiss.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Ryul lost his mind. The sight of another man touching you, tasting you, completely shattered whatever professionalism or self control he had left. A raw, animalistic roar tore from his throat, though it was swallowed by the booming music.
He charged through the crowd, shoving people out of his way with zero regard, his vision completely tunneled on the corner booth. Ohyul was right on his heels, his heavy jaw clenched so tight the bruise on his face turned a sickening shade of white.
Before the stranger even realized what was happening, Ryul reached the booth.
He grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, ripping him away from you with a terrifying strength. The stranger stumbled back, startled and blinking, but he didn't even have time to open his mouth to ask what was happening.
Ryul’s fist connected with the guy’s jaw with a sickening crack.
The punch was fueled by months of suffocating paranoia, exhaustion, and the absolute agony of seeing you with someone else.
The stranger crash heavily into a nearby high top table, sending drinks flying and glasses shattering across the floor.
"Get the fuck away from my girlfriend!" Ryul screamed, his chest heaving as he stood over the groaning man, his knuckles bleeding and his eyes completely wild, looking like a lunatic.
People around them began to shriek and scatter, creating a wide circle around them.
Through it all, you just sat back against the leather cushions of the booth. You slowly wiped your lower lip with the back of your hand, your eyes glittering with an absolute thrill as you looked at Ryul’s trembling, ruined state.
Then, Ohyul stepped into the circle, his massive shadow completely blocking out the strobe lights. He didn't look at the guy on the floor. He didn't look at Ryul. His dark gaze was locked entirely on you, his chest rising and falling heavily as the toxic trap tightened around both of you once again.
The stranger on the floor groaned, clutching his bleeding jaw as two bouncers finally began pushing their way through the panicked crowd toward the commotion.
Ryul didn't even notice them. He turned around slowly, his chest heaving as he stared down at you. His knuckles were dripping blood onto the sticky floor, his eyes wide and completely bloodshot. He looked like a man who had completely lost his sanity, his fingers trembling with a mix of adrenaline and pure, agonizing heartbreak.
"Why?"
Ryul choked out, his voice cracking over the thumping bass of the club. He stepped closer, dropping to his knees right in front of you, completely humiliating himself in public.
He grabbed your hands, his grip desperate and pleading. "Why are you doing this to me, you? I work sixteen hour shifts for us. I did everything you asked. Why do you keep tearing me apart y/n why?"
Ohyul stood right behind Ryul, watching his best friend beg on the floor. A few minutes ago, Ohyul had been ready to pack his bags and confess everything. But seeing you sitting there, looking completely untouchable while another man’s blood stained the floor, something ugly and possessive completely locked his jaw shut.
He couldn't tell Ryul the truth now. If he did, he’d lose his chance to have you entirely, and he couldn't stand the thought of anyone else touching you.
You looked down at Ryul, your expression completely smooth, devoid of any guilt. You slowly pulled one of your hands out of his tight grip and gently ran your fingers through his messy hair, a soft, mocking pity in your eyes.
"Look at you babe" you murmured, your voice a cruel, velvety whisper that only the two of you could hear over the music.
"You're a mess. You come into a club, punch a random person, and make a scene. You're acting like a psycho. Or maybe you are a psycho?"
Ryul flinched as if you had slapped him, his eyes filling with tears. "I only did it because I love you. Because I can't lose you. You know how much i love you."
Your lips curled into a tiny, victorious smirk. You glanced up at Ohyul, who was staring down at you with suffocating intensity. He wasn't saying a word to help his friend. He was completely silent, trapped in the exact same web.
"Both of you are so pathetic." you whispered, your voice laced with absolute satisfaction as you leaned back against the leather seat.
The bouncers finally reached the booth, shouting and grabbing Ryul by the shoulders to drag him out. Instead of fighting back, Ryul just kept his eyes locked on you, begging you with his gaze. Ohyul stepped in, roughly shoving one of the bouncers back to protect Ryul, his massive frame creating a wall between his friend and the security.
Within seconds, the three of you were being aggressively escorted out the back door of the club and shoved into the cool night air of the alleyway.
The heavy metal door slammed shut behind them, cutting off the loud bass and leaving only the sound of their ragged breathing. Ryul leaned against the brick wall, wiping his bloody knuckles on his jeans, completely broken. Ohyul stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his dark eyes still glued to you.
Every single word they had said in the apartment about leaving, about the truth, and about standing up to you had completely vanished. They were right back where they started, bleeding, furious, and utterly under your control.
"Y/N!" Ryul’s voice tore through the quiet alleyway, loud and entirely shattered. He slammed his hand against the brick wall, the raw agony in his face matching the blood dripping from his knuckles.
"You were kissing him! I walk in, and you’re wrapped around some random guy! Do you have any idea what that does to me?!"
You didn't even flinch. You leaned casually against the cold brick, crossing your arms as a mocking, entirely cold smile spread across your lips.
"Ugh, I should have been there the whole night," you said, your voice dripping with sheer, unbothered attitude. You rolled your eyes, letting out a sharp, dismissive sigh.
"At least he knew how to show a girl a good time without throwing a pathetic, insecure tantrum in public."
"A tantrum?!" Ryul screamed, stepping right into your space, his chest heaving violently. His face was bright red, the veins in his neck bulging as he lost every ounce of his usual composure.
"I just ruined my hands, the fucking hands I need for my work because you were throwing yourself at a stranger! I work myself to the bone for our future and you treat me like an option!"
"I didn't ask you to come here Ryul!" you shouted back, your voice raising to match his, sharp and high pitched. You took a step forward, completely unfazed by his height or his rage, poking a sharp fingernail hard into his chest.
"You're the one who tracks me down like a psychopath. You're the one who ruined my night! If you're so exhausted from your precious shifts, then stay the hell home and leave me fucking alone!"
"Leave you alone so you can cheat on me?!" Ryul roared, tears of pure frustration and sadness finally spilling over his eyelids. He looked completely unhinged, trapped between the urge to shake you and the desperate need to hold you. "You’re killing me, you. You are literally destroying my mind, and you don't even care!"
Ohyul stood just a few feet away in the shadows, his massive frame completely rigid. He watched the explosive argument unfold, his own jaw clenched so tight it throbbed. He didn't say a single word to break them apart. Even as Ryul screamed his lungs out, Ohyul's dark eyes remained fixed on you, completely paralyzed by the toxic realization that no matter how ugly this got, neither he nor Ryul had the strength to actually walk away from you.
"You're right Ryul! I don't care! I don't even fucking care!"
you fired back, your voice echoing sharply off the damp alley walls. You stepped closer, invading his space, your eyes flashing with a terrifyingly cold. "Because you are entirely exhausting. Look at you! Screaming in the dirt like a child because you can't handle the fact that I don't belong to you."
Ryul stumbled back a half step as if the words physically struck him. His chest heaved, breathless sound escaping his throat. "I’m your partner. Your boyfriend. You’re supposed to belong to me."
"I belong to myself." you snapped, your tone dripping with absolute disdain. You turned your back on him deliberately, tossing your hair over your shoulder. "And right now, myself wants to go back inside and find someone who actually knows how to have fun."
"Don't you dare walk back through that door." Ryul choked out, his voice dropping from a roar to a desperate, pathetic whimper.
He reached out, his bloody, trembling hand hovering over your bare shoulder, too terrified to touch you but too weak to let you go.
"Please. y/n...please, Just come home. Let's just go back to the apartment."
You paused, looking over your shoulder with a slow, calculating expression. You let the silence stretch, watching Ryul completely unravel right there in the dark.
Then, you shifted your gaze past Ryul, landing directly on Ohyul, who was still standing like a statue in the shadows.
"What about you, Ohyul?" you asked, your voice dropping into that smooth, velvety purr that made both of their chests tighten. "Are you going to let your best friend beg on his knees all night? Or are you going to carry my handbag back upstairs like a good boy?"
Ohyul’s hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. He looked at Ryul, who was staring at the ground, completely defeated, waiting for your next action.
The grand speech Ohyul had prepared in the apartment, the truth about how you had played them both was completely dead.
Ohyul stepped out of the shadows, his towering frame casting a long shadow over them. He didn't look at Ryul. He looked straight at you.
"Let's go home." Ohyul said, his gravelly voice low and entirely submissive, signaling his total surrender back into your cage.
You let out a soft, amused hum, thoroughly enjoying the sight of the two large men completely waiting on your word in the filthy alleyway. You turned around slowly, your heels clicking against the damp pavement as you walked right past a broken Ryul and stood directly in front of Ohyul.
You reached up, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his sharp jawline, right over the dark bruise Ryul had given him earlier. Ohyul didn't flinch. He just closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, his chest rising and falling heavily under your touch.
"Good boy" you whispered, your voice a cruel and sweet contrast to the screaming match that had just ended.
Ryul slowly lifted his head from the brick wall, his face pale and tear stained. He watched you touch his best friend, but his mind was so thoroughly broken by your manipulation that he didn't even process the intimacy of the gesture. He was just grateful you wasn't walking back into the club with the stranger. He was just grateful you was coming home.
"Let's go" you commanded, dropping your hand and walking toward the mouth of the alley without waiting to see if they were following.
They were.
Like two trained big dog, they fell into step right behind you. Ryul walked with his head down, cradling his bloody hand, his mind a chaotic mess of guilt and exhaustion.
Ohyul walked with his shoulders square, his dark eyes fixed firmly on the back of your dress, already mentally unpacking his duffel bag back in the apartment.
When they reached the apartment, the door swung open to reveal the exact same mess they had left, the mess on coffee table and the heavy silence. But the atmosphere had completely shifted. The dangerous tension of truth telling was gone, replaced by a suffocating compliance.
You kicked off your heels in the entryway and walked straight to the kitchen counter, pouring yourself another splash of vodka. You didn't look back at them as they entered.
"Ryul, go clean your hand. You look disgusting." you ordered coldly, taking a sip. "And Ohyul, put your clothes back in the closet. The apartment is a mess because of you two, and I expect it clean by morning."
Ryul didn't argue. He just nodded blankly and walked toward the bathroom to wash the stranger's blood off his knuckles. Ohyul stood in the hallway for a long moment, looking down at his packed bag.
With a heavy, quiet sigh, he picked it up and walked back into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Sitting on the kitchen stool, you swirled the clear liquid in your glass, listening to the quiet movements of the two men you had just utterly broken. A satisfied smile spread across your lips. They were yours, completely and entirely, and they weren't going anywhere.
You raised the glass to your lips again, the clear alcohol catching the dim light of the kitchen. But before the rim could touch your mouth, a large hand clamped firmly around your wrist.
The grip wasn't violent, but it was unyielding.
You froze, your eyes sliding up to meet Ohyul’s dark gaze. He had walked out of his room completely silent, his heavy footsteps making no sound against the floor.
He didn't look at you with the submission he had shown in the alleyway. The door to the bathroom was shut, the sound of running water muffling Ryul’s movements inside. You were alone.
"Don't," Ohyul muttered, his gravelly voice incredibly low, barely a breath in the quiet kitchen. He slowly but firmly took the glass out of your hand and set it far back on the counter, out of your reach.
You let out a scoff, leaning back against the barstool. "I told you to clean up, Ohyul. Not play my therapist."
Ohyul didn't move away. Instead, he stepped closer, trapping your body between his massive frame and the edge of the counter. He leaned down, placing his hands on either side of your thighs, forcing you to look up at him. The smell of the rain and the smoky club still clung to his jacket.
"The game is over for tonight... Mommy" he whispered, his eyes scanning your face, looking for even a crack in your cold mask. "You won. We’re back. You broke us both in front of a hundred people. Are you satisfied now?"
You tilted your head, a lazy, mocking smirk playing on your lips. "I'm never satisfied baby, You know that."
Ohyul’s jaw clenched, his gaze dropping to your red juicy lips before snapping back up to your eyes. The anger, the jealousy, and the exhaustion of the past few months seemed to weigh heavily on his broad shoulders. He looked at you not as a toy he wanted to possess, but as a riddle that was slowly destroying his soul.
He let out a long breath, his tone shifting from tense to something raw and deeply quiet.
"Just answer me one thing," Ohyul said, his voice cracking slightly with a vulnerability he hated showing. He leaned in a fraction closer, his dark eyes boring into yours.
"Do you really love Ryul… even before all of this happens?"
You didn’t answer right away. You just stared up at him, your dark eyes completely unreadable under the dim kitchen lights. The faint sound of the bathroom plumbing was the only thing filling the silence between them, a ticking clock reminding them that Ryul could walk out at any second.
Your lazy smirk slowly faded, replaced by a cold, calculating stillness. You reached up, your manicured fingers gently gripping the collar of Ohyul’s jacket, pulling him down just a fraction closer so your whisper wouldn't carry past the counter.
"Love?" you murmured, the word tasting like a joke on your tongue. You let out a short, quiet breath that was almost a laugh. "Is that what you think this is about, Ohyul? You think I care about something as soft and pathetic as love?"
Ohyul’s gaze didn't waver, though his jaw tightened at your tone.
"He thinks you do. He's destroying his life, his career, his mind. All because he thinks you love him. So tell me. Before I kiss and touched you again, before we started tearing him apart behind his back… did you ever actually care about him? Or was he just the first toy you decided to break?"
Your fingers slid from his collar up to his jaw, your touch feather light but freezing cold.
"Ryul was safe." you whispered, your eyes glittering with a dangerous, honest cruelty. "He was sweet, predictable, and entirely devoted. It was fun for a while. But safe gets boring Ohyul and you know that. That's why you're here, isn't it? Because you're just as twisted as I am. You watched him love me, and you wanted a piece of it anyway."
Ohyul’s breath hitched. The raw truth of your words cut straight through his defenses, exposing the ugly, guilty reality he had been trying to hide behind his anger. He wanted to pull away, to deny it, but your grip on his jaw held him entirely captive.
"So don't ever ask me about love," you breathed, your lips inches from his ear.
"Neither of you know what that means. You just want to own me. And right now, I own both of you."
Before Ohyul could answer, the click of the bathroom door unlocking echoed down the hallway.
Instantly, the suffocating spell broke. Ohyul straightened up, stepping back into the shadows of the kitchen just as Ryul walked out, a clean white bandage clumsily wrapped around his ruined knuckles. Ryul stopped, his exhausted eyes darting between the two of you, the silence in the room telling him everything and nothing all at once.
Ryul stood frozen at the edge of the hallway, his eyes darting frantically between you sitting on the barstool and Ohyul standing in the shadows beside you. The smell of antiseptic from his bandage mixed with the heavy scent of alcohol in the air.
"What's going on?" Ryul asked, his voice rough and completely worn out. He stepped into the kitchen, his eyes fixating on your glass, which Ohyul had moved to the back counter.
"Are you guys… arguing again?"
Your demeanor changed in a heartbeat. The grin you had flashed at Ohyul vanished, replaced instantly by a soft, tired sigh. You looked at Ryul with an expression that looked effortlessly like pity.
"No, Ryul." you said softly, hopping down from the barstool. You walked over to him, completely ignoring Ohyul as if he weren't even in the room. You gently took Ryul’s bandaged hand in yours, careful not to press against his broken knuckles. "Ohyul was just telling me that he’s putting his things away. We were just waiting for you."
Ryul looked down at your hands holding his, his shoulders instantly dropping as a wave of pathetic relief washed over him. He was so desperate for your warmth that he completely ignored how strange it was for Ohyul to be standing there so silently.
"Okay..." Ryul whispered, leaning his forehead against your shoulder, closing his eyes like a tired child. "Good. I just… I just want tonight to be over and i want to be with you"
Over Ryul’s shoulder, your eyes locked onto Ohyul. Your gaze was mocking, full of absolute triumph. You had just confessed to Ohyul's face that you didn't care about either of them, yet here they were, one clinging to you like a lifeline, and the other completely paralyzed by his own guilt.
Ohyul stared at them, his chest heaving silently. The weight of your words 'safe gets boring' was ringing in his ears. He looked at his best friend, completely blind to the monster he was hugging, and then looked at you, who gave him a wink.
"I'm going to bed." Ohyul growled, his voice low and hollow.
He turned around and walked down the hallway, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him. The sound echoed through the quiet apartment, a stark reminder that while the shouting had stopped, none of them were actually free.
The next morning, the apartment was suffocatingly quiet. Ryul had left for his shift at dawn, his bandaged hand hidden beneath his jacket pocket, his face pale with exhaustion.
Ohyul sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his half unpacked duffel bag. His jaw still ached, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the toxic hum in his veins. He had begged for you in an alleyway. He had let his pride be completely stepped on.
The door to his bedroom clicked open without a knock.
You walked in, wearing one of Ryul’s oversized white dress shirts, your hair slightly messy. You looked completely relaxed, as if you hadn't just destroyed two men's lives twelve hours ago. You carried a stack of freshly folded shirts.
"Since you're clearly too paralyzed to finish unpacking, I thought I'd help." you said with a smile, your voice light, almost cheerful.
Ohyul didn't move. He just watched your dark eyes as you walked over to his closet, smoothly placing the shirts on a shelf.
"Get out, y/n." he growled, his voice rough from lack of sleep.
"I don't need your help and I don't need your games today."
You let out a amused hum. You turned around, leaning your hips against his dresser, crossing your arms.
"Still grumpy? I thought you'd be happy. You get to stay in the house. You get to be near me."
"You're a psycho." Ohyul muttered, standing up to confront you, his massive frame towering over you. "You don't care about Ryul, and you don't care about me. You just like the power."
"Maybe... Buy both of you obsessed with me anyways"
You whispered, your smile widening just a fraction. You reached into the pocket of the oversized shirt to pull out your phone, but as you did, your fingers caught on something else.
A small, metallic object slipped from the pocket, hitting the hardwood floor with a sharp, distinct clink.
It rolled right to the toe of Ohyul's feet.
Ohyul glanced down, intending to kick it back to you, but the moment his eyes landed on the object, the breath completely left his lungs. His body went entirely rigid.
It was a silver Zippo lighter. Engraved on the side was a very specific, interlocking initials design, O.M.
And right across the silver surface was a deep, jagged scratch, a scratch Ohyul had made himself three years ago when he flung it against a brick wall after telling a crying, broken girl to get out of his bed and never call him again.
Mina.
His blood ran entirely cold. That lighter had belonged to Mina, the girl Ryul had treated like garbage, the girl Ohyul had ruthlessly taken advantage on her and discarded until she completely vanished from the city.
Ohyul slowly bent down, his massive hand trembling slightly as he picked up the cold metal. He stared at the scratch, his mind racing, trying to find a logical explanation. There wasn't one.
"Where did you get this?" Ohyul asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly whisper. He snapped his head up, his dark eyes boring into yours, a sudden fear piercing through his anger.
"Where the fuck did you get this, y/n"
You didn't flinch. You didn't look surprised. Instead, the playful expression completely vanished from your face, replaced by a cold, vacant stillness that made you look like an absolute stranger.
You tilted your head, your eyes locking onto his with a terrifying intelligence.
"You rape her, didn't you, Ohyul?"
You murmured, your voice dropping into a melodic tone that sent a shiver straight down his spine.
You took a slow step toward him, your bare feet making no sound. "You told her that no matter how loud she cried, nobody would ever care. You told her she was nothing."
Ohyul stumbled back a half step, the lighter cutting into his palm. You were quoting him. Those were the exact, brutal words he had whispered into Mina's ear the night he broke her. Nobody else knew that.
"Who are you?" Ohyul choked out, the walls of the room suddenly feeling like they were crashing in on him.
You stopped just inches away from him. You reached up, your manicured fingers gently patting his cheek, the exact same mocking gesture you had used in the alleyway. But there was no passion in your eyes now. Only endless ocean of pure, calculating karma.
"I'm the consequence, Ohyul." you whispered, your lips curling into a tiny beautiful smile.
"And we're just getting started."
Ohyul’s heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped animal. The sheer, suffocating weight of your gaze made the room spin.
For months, he had thought he was the apex predator in this apartment, playing a dangerous, thrilling game of cat and mouse with his best friend’s girl.
Now, looking at the dead, icy perfection in your eyes, he realized he wasn't the cat. He was the mouse trapped in a beautifully constructed maze.
"Mina..." Ohyul’s voice was barely a rasp. His throat felt completely lined with sand.
"You... you know her. You're doing this because of her."
You let out a soft, breathy laugh that didn't reach your eyes. You reached out, your index finger lightly tracing the jagged, silver scratch on the Zippo lighter still clutched in his trembling hand.
"Know her?" you whispered, your voice dropping into a dangerous, melodic purr.
"Mina was the girl who believed Ryul when he said he loved her, while he hid her away like a dirty little secret. And she was the girl who came to you, his trusted best friend. Crying, looking for a shoulder to lean on because she thought you actually had a soul."
You leaned in closer, the scent of your perfume suddenly filling his senses, though it felt less like an invitation now and more like a lethal poison.
"But you didn't have one, did you Ohyul?" you murmured, your dark eyes boring directly into his guilty conscience.
"You saw a broken, vulnerable girl and you decided to see how much more you could crack her. You used her up, threw her out in the rain, and told her she was completely crazy when she threatened to tell Ryul."
"I— we..." Ohyul tried to step back, but his knees felt weak, his back hitting the solid wood of his closet door. He was trapped.
"And do you want to know the funniest part?"
You continued, your smile widening into something genuinely terrifying. You reached up and gently smoothed down the collar of the oversized shirt you wore.
"Ryul doesn't even remember her name. He thinks he’s a good guy. He thinks he’s a savior. He has absolutely no idea that the two of you systematically destroyed a person’s entire life just because you could."
You took the silver lighter from his frozen fingers, tossing it lightly in the air before catching it with a practiced, effortless grace.
"So I decided to see if the two of you were really as unbreakable as you thought."
You said softly, turning your back to him and walking casually toward his bedroom door. You paused at the threshold, looking over your shoulder with a gaze that made Ohyul’s blood completely turn to ice.
"And look at you now. You betrayed your best friend. You begged for me in the dirt. You packed your bags to ruin your life for a girl who doesn't even exist to you."
"What are you going to do?" Ohyul choked out, his fists clenching so tight his own fingernails cut into his palms. "Are you going to tell Ryul?"
You tilted your head, your laughter echoing sharply through the quiet hallway.
"Tell him?" you asked, your eyes glittering with absolute, merciless amusement.
"Oh my love, Ohyul. That would be far too easy. Why would I stop the game when both of you are finally on your knees?"
You closed his bedroom door with a soft, deliberate click, leaving Ohyul alone in the suffocating shadows of his room.
The silence that followed was heavy, almost deafening. Ohyul sank onto the edge of his bed, his head falling into his hands. His broad shoulders, usually so imposing and rigid, slouched under a weight he hadn't felt in years. The ghost of his past had just walked into his room wearing his best friend’s shirt, and it had completely stripped him of his armor.
Every touch.
Every look.
Every agonizing second in that alleyway.
It hadn't been a twisted romance. It hadn't even been a toxic obsession. It was a calculated execution. You had studied them, mapped out their flaws, and used their own disgusting history to turn them against each other.
A sharp laugh caught in his throat. He had actually thought he was winning. He had thought he was stealing Ryul's girl, proving his dominance, taking what he wanted.
In reality, he was just a dog fetching a stick, completely blind to the hand throwing it.
Hours bled into the afternoon. Ohyul didn't move from his bed. He couldn't. His mind was spinning, replaying every single interaction he’d ever had with you. The way you smirked when he touched you, the way you pushed Ryul just far enough to make him snap, it wasn't chaos. It was precision.
By the time evening arrived, the front door of the apartment clicked open.
"Princess?" Ryul’s voice called out, tired but instantly searching, carrying that familiar, desperate edge.
"I'm home. My boss let me off early because of my hand."
Ohyul stood up slowly. His joints felt stiff, his heart heavy. He walked out into the hallway just as Ryul was kicking off his shoes.
Ryul looked up, his eyes instantly hardening when he saw Ohyul. The tension from the previous night was still very much alive in Ryul's chest, he still thought Ohyul was the threat. He still thought Ohyul was the one trying to ruin his life.
"Where is she?" Ryul asked coldly, stepping past Ohyul into the living room, cradling his bandaged right hand against his chest.
"I'm in the kitchen!" your voice answered smoothly before Ohyul could even open his mouth.
You stepped out from the kitchen, wearing a soft, cozy sweater, a bright smile on your face. You looked like the picture perfect, doting girlfriend. You rushed over to Ryul, your face twisting into a display of tender worry.
"Oh babe, look at you." you cooed, gently taking his uninjured hand and guiding him to the couch. "You shouldn't be walking around. Sit down. I made you some tea."
Ryul melted instantly under your touch, his angry posture completely deflating as he let you guide him. He looked up at your face with an expression of pathetic worship.
"Thank you. I'm sorry about last night, princess. I just… I get so crazy because I love you so much."
"I know, babe. I know," you murmured softly, smoothing his hair back.
From the hallway, Ohyul watched the display, a sick feeling twisting his stomach into knots. He looked at Ryul, his brother, his best friend looking so incredibly small and broken, completely enslaved by a lie.
Then, you looked up.
Over Ryul’s head, your eyes locked right onto Ohyul. The warmth in your face didn't fade for Ryul's sake, but your eyes turned dead and viciously mocking. You slowly slid your hand down Ryul's arm, your fingers lingering near his chest, before you gave Ohyul a tiny nod toward the kitchen counter.
There, sitting right in the center of the clean marble, was the silver Zippo lighter. The jagged scratch on its surface caught the living room light, gleaming like a blade.
You were daring him. You were holding the match to their entire lives, waiting to see if Ohyul had the guts to speak up and blow it all to pieces knowing damn well that if he did, he would have to confess his own sins first.
"Ohyul." Ryul said suddenly, his voice tight as he noticed his friend standing there. He didn't look at him, keeping his eyes on you.
"Are you staying or leaving? Because if you're staying, we still need to have that talk."
Ohyul swallowed hard, the words choking him. He looked at the lighter. He looked at the monster comforting his best friend. He opened his mouth, but his pride, his guilt, and the sheer terror of what you held over him completely paralyzed his tongue.
"I'm staying..." Ohyul whispered, his voice hollow, completely defeated. "I'm… I'm putting my clothes back in the closet."
Ohyul turned on his heel and walked back into his bedroom, the soft click of his door closing feeling less like privacy and more like a prison cell slamming shut.
He slumped back against the door, his breath shuddering out of him. He could hear their muffled voices through the drywall, Ryul’s soft, exhausted murmurs and your smooth, comforting responses. It was a sick, theatrical performance, and he was the only audience member who knew the script.
Outside on the couch, you blew gently on the surface of the hot tea you had brought for Ryul.
"Drink it while it's hot." you murmured, your voice sweet enough to rot teeth.
Ryul took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving your face. The bandage on his hand throbbed, but the warmth of your presence was like a narcotic.
"I talked to my boss today." he mumbled, staring into the dark amber liquid.
"He was furious about the fight. He said if anything like that happens again, or if that guy presses charges, my work is done and I'll kick out"
Your eyes flared with a brief, electric spark of absolute satisfaction. Perfect.
"Oh..." you cooed, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your eyes drifted toward Ohyul’s closed door.
"Don't worry about that. You have people who care about you. If anyone should take the blame for that fight, it’s Ohyul. He’s the one who dragged you out to that awful club in the first place, right?"
Ryul stiffened slightly, a dark cloud crossing his face. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. He’s been acting so weird lately. Pushing me, picking fights..."
"Exactly." you whispered into his ear, your breath warm and poisonous.
"A real best friend would protect your career. He’d take the fall for you. Don't you think?"
Inside his room, Ohyul couldn't make out the exact words, but he didn't need to. He knew the anatomy of your traps now. You weren't just breaking their brotherhood, you were going to make them dismantle it themselves, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but ash.
He walked over to his window, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, looking down at the rainy streets below. He had two choices:
stay silent and let you slowly skin them alive, or tell Ryul the truth, destroy their friendship instantly, and admit to being the monster who ruined Mina.
A sharp, sudden knock on his bedroom door made him flinch.
He straightened his posture, trying to force his usual cold, imposing mask back onto his face. He pulled the door open, expecting to see your mocking smile.
Instead, it was Ryul.
He was standing there with his good hand stuffed deep into his pocket, his face tightly drawn. The pathetic, melting expression he had just worn on the couch with you was completely gone, replaced by a defensive wall.
He didn't step into the room, he just gripped the edge of the doorframe, his bandaged knuckles stark and white against the dark wood.
"Ohyul," Ryul said, his voice flat, completely stripped of the warmth he usually had when talking to his best friend. "We’re doing this now. Out here."
He turned on his heel and walked back into the living room. Ohyul took a slow, heavy breath, his heart hammering against his ribs as he forced his massive frame to follow.
You were still sitting on the couch, cradling your teacup.
As Ohyul stepped into the room, you didn't look up immediately. You just blew softly across the surface of the amber liquid, the steam rising to obscure the satisfaction gleaming in your eyes.
You looked small, delicate, and entirely innocent tucked into Ryul's oversized sweater, the perfect contrast to the two towering men about to dissect their own ruin.
Ryul didn't sit back down beside you. He stood by the coffee table, his gaze dropping to the table wood before snapping up to lock onto his best friend.
"My boss called me into his office today." Ryul began, his tone dangerously quiet.
"He told me the guy I hit last night is threatening a massive lawsuit against the company.My entire life, everything I’ve bled for since we were teenager is sitting on a chopping block right now."
Ohyul swallowed hard, his eyes briefly flicking to the kitchen counter where the silver Zippo lighter sat like a loaded gun.
"Ryul, I'm sorry about the club—"
"I don't want your apologies, Ohyul!"
Ryul barked, his voice cracking as the raw stress of the day finally leaked through his stoic mask. He stepped closer, his chest heaving.
"I want to know why you've been pushing me. You're the one who told me she was text messaging some guy. You're the one who dragged me out to Spiritual Underworld. You've been acting like a psychopath for months, circling my relationship like a goddamn vulture!"
Ohyul closed his mouth, the words rotting in his throat. He looked at you. You slowly lowered your teacup, setting it down on the side table with a tiny, delicate click.
You tilted your head, watching Ohyul with a look of pure, breathless anticipation.
Go ahead, your eyes dared him.
Tell him why you really took him to that club.
Tell him about the kitchen counter.
Tell him about Mina.
"Say something!" Ryul demanded, his voice echoing sharply off the walls.
"Look at me! You're my best friend. You’re supposed to have my back. If the board reviews this fight, I'm done. But if someone else confesses to starting the altercation... if you tell them you provoked the guy and I was just defending my partner..."
Ryul paused, his lower lip trembling slightly as he looked at the massive man he had called a brother for ten years. The words you had whispered into his ear on the couch were working like a slow acting venom, rewiring his desperation into selfishness.
"You don't have a residency to lose, Ohyul," Ryul whispered, the betrayal hanging heavily in the air.
"You could take the fall for this. If you ever actually cared about me, about my future. You’d go to my boss tomorrow and tell him it was your fault."
The apartment went dead silent.
Ohyul felt the room spinning. He looked at Ryul, the boy he used to protect from bullies, the man he had secretly betrayed and realized the tragedy of it all.
Ryul thought he was making a desperate play to save his career. He had no idea he was dancing on the exact strings you had laid out for him.
You were turning Ryul into a selfish monster, forcing him to exploit his best friend's loyalty, all while Ohyul was choked by his own past sins.
Ohyul’s broad shoulders slouched, the last remnants of his pride completely evaporating into the suffocating quiet. He looked at you one last time.
You didn't say a word. You just leaned back against the cushions, slid your legs up onto the couch, and rested your chin on your knee. Your eyes were wide, beautiful, and utterly merciless as you watched the two brothers tear the final threads of their bond apart for your entertainment.
"Okay... Calm down" Ohyul whispered, his voice completely hollow, his gaze dropping to the floor.
"I'll do it. I'll take the fall, Ryul."
Ryul let out a ragged breath, his shoulders collapsing with a mixture of intense relief and deep, sickening shame. He couldn't even look Ohyul in the eye.
"Thank you." he muttered, turning his back to hide the guilt washing over his face.
You let out a soft, melodic hum from the couch, stretching your arms over your head like a cat waking from a satisfying nap.
"Well, now that that's settled." you murmured, your voice sweet enough to poison a well as you stood up and walked toward the kitchen, your bare feet clicking softly against the marble.
"Who wants me to pour them a fresh cup of tea?"
Ryul didn't answer. He couldn't. He just stood there, staring blankly at the floor, his mind entirely consumed by the fact that he had just traded his best friend's future for his own.
Ohyul, on the other hand, didn't break eye contact with you. He saw the effortless way your manicured fingers held the match to their lives. His chest rose and fell in a heavy, ragged rhythm, but he didn't move. He had already signed the contract. He was already in the cage.
With a satisfied chuckle, you snapped the lighter shut. The sudden clink made Ryul flinch, pulling him out of his guilty trance.
"Actually..." you murmured, your voice bright and entirely cheerful as you slipped the silver Zippo into your pocket.
"I’m not really in the mood for tea anymore. Let's watch a movie. Ohyul, go fix the couch cushions. Ryul, come sit by me."
It was a blatant test of your absolute authority. Twelve hours ago, they were tearing the apartment apart, bleeding and screaming. Now, they moved like clockwork.
Ryul silently walked back to the couch, sinking into the leather beside you, his bandaged hand resting limply on his lap. Ohyul stepped forward from the shadows, his massive frame hunched as he manually adjusted the cushions around Ryul, completely ignoring the fact that his own jaw was still throbbing from his friend's fist. He was a ghost in his own home.
You leaned back, resting your head on Ryul’s shoulder while your eyes remained fixed on Ohyul, watching him retreat back into his prison of a bedroom.
Three weeks later, the trap snapped shut completely.
The company board review was a quiet, brutal affair. Ohyul had walked into Ryul's boss office, looked the board members dead in the eye, and told them exactly what you had scripted, that he was a volatile, unemployed degenerate who had dragged Ryul to a dangerous club and violently provoked a civilian. He took 100% of the legal and financial liability.
Ryul’s residency was saved. Ohyul’s record was permanently ruined.
That evening, the apartment felt different. The dynamic had officially solidified into something deeply twisted.
Ryul sat at the kitchen island, a bottle of expensive whiskey between his hands. He was celebrating his safety, but his eyes were completely hollow. He knew what he was. He knew he was a coward.
You walked out of the bedroom, dressed to go out, your keys jingling in your hand.
"I'm going to the store." you announced carelessly to the empty room.
Ryul immediately looked up, his eyes wide with that familiar, pathetic desperation.
"Do you want me to come with you? I can drive."
"No." you said smoothly, not even looking at him as you slipped on your heels. "Stay here. You look exhausted."
As the front door clicked shut behind you, Ohyul slowly opened his bedroom door. He walked into the kitchen, his expression completely blank, and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. He poured himself a shot of Ryul's whiskey, swallowing it in one burning gulp.
Ryul didn't look at him. He couldn't face the man who had just ruined his own life to save his.
"The board... they closed the case today."
Ryul muttered to the counter. "It's over. I'm safe."
"I know." Ohyul gravelly replied.
"I'm sorry, man." Ryul whispered, a tear finally slipping down his pale cheek.
"I'm so sorry I let you take the fall. I just... I couldn't lose my dream. And I couldn't lose her."
Ohyul set his glass down on the marble counter with a dull thud. He looked at his best friend, the boy he used to share clothes with, the man who was currently drowning in a beautifully constructed lie and felt a strange, detached pity.
"You didn't take my future, Ryul." Ohyul said softly, his voice completely devoid of anger.
Ryul finally looked up, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Ohyul leaned in, his dark eyes boring into Ryul's with a terrifying, absolute clarity. The ghost of Mina was practically standing between them now, and Ohyul was finally ready to let the fire burn.
"I didn't take the fall to save your residency." Ohyul whispered, a slow, grim smile appearing on his face for the first time in weeks.
"I took the fall because she told me who she is. And she's not here for your love, Ryul."
Ryul’s breath hitched, his hands tightening around his glass. "What are you talking about? Who is she?"
Ohyul reached into his pocket. He didn't have the Zippo, you had taken it back but he had found something else in the back of his closet earlier that afternoon.
A old, crumpled photo of a smiling, dark haired girl from three years ago. He slid it across the marble counter, letting it rest right between them.
"Her name isn't what she told you." Ohyul murmured, his voice dropping into a dangerous, chilling register.
"And you didn't just meet her by accident at that cafe six months ago. Look at the eyes, Ryul. Look at the smile."
Ryul stared down at the photo, his face instantly draining of whatever color it had left.
His hands began to shake violently as the pieces of the puzzle. The erratic behavior, the calculated fights, the absolute destruction of their friendship suddenly violently slammed together in his brain.
"Mina..." Ryul choked out, the name tearing from his throat like a broken shard of glass.
"She's her sister, Ryul." Ohyul whispered, leaning back as the front door of the apartment suddenly clicked open, signaling your return. "And like she said... she's the consequence."
The front door swung open with a light, breezy chime from the entryway bells. You stepped into the foyer, dropping your keys into the ceramic dish on the console table. The domestic sound cut through the suffocating tension of the kitchen like a razor blade.
"The traffic was awful." you called out, your voice a perfect picture of casual, evening fatigue as you slipped out of your heels. "They're already doing roadwork on the avenue."
When you walked into the kitchen, the air was practically vibrating.
Ryul was still staring at the crumpled photograph on the counter, his hands gripping the edge of the marble so tightly his knuckles were stark white.
He looked physically sick, his chest heaving as he tried to process the reality crashing down on him. Next to him, Ohyul stood tall, his expression entirely unbothered, his dark eyes locked onto yours the moment you crossed the threshold.
The photograph sat right there in the open, a tiny piece of paper exposing three years of meticulous planning.
You didn't flinch. You didn't panic.
Instead, a deeply amused smile spread across your face. You walked over to the island, entirely ignoring Ryul's trembling state, and picked up the old photo.
You held it up to the light, studying the face of the smiling, dark haired girl.
Your sister,
The one Ryul had failed to save on three years ago.
"You really are the sharper one, Ohyul."
You murmured softly, tracing the edge of the paper with your thumb.
"I wondered how long it would take you to look through the old hospital records. Or did you recognize the family name on my actual ID?"
"You... you used me..." Ryul choked out, finally looking up at you. His eyes were bloodshot, swimming with a mixture of profound heartbreak and absolute terror.
"Everything... from the day we met at the cafe... it was a setup? You made me love you."
"Oh... Ryul." you sighed, tossing the photo back onto the counter with a careless flick of your wrist. You leaned against the island, looking at him with genuine, chilling pity.
"You made yourself love me. You were so desperate for a beautiful, fragile distraction from the guilt of what you did to her, you swallowed every single lie I fed you."
You stepped closer to him, tilting your head. "Do you remember what you told the review board back then? 'It was an unavoidable complication.' That’s what you called her death. A complication. So, I decided to become one."
Ryul let out a ragged sob, burying his face in his hands. The realization that his saved residency was just a golden cage, and that the person he worshiped was actually his executioner, completely broke him.
Ohyul didn't move to comfort his best friend. He kept his eyes on you, his posture rigid.
"You have what you want now," Ohyul said, his gravelly voice cutting through Ryul's quiet weeping.
"My record is gone. Ryul is ruined inside. The board might have closed the case, but he'll never hold a scalpel without seeing her face. We're done. Leave."
You let out a soft, melodic laugh that echoed sharply in the quiet apartment.
"Leave?" you repeated, your eyes glinting with absolute malice as you looked between the two broken friends.
"Why would I leave? The board closed the case because you took the blame, Ohyul. Which means legally, Ryul is a saint, and you are a violent liability. And legally... this apartment is in Ryul's name, and Ryul will do exactly what I tell him to do."
You walked over to Ryul, gently placing your hand on his shaking shoulder. He flinched violently, but he didn't push you away. He was too terrified, too completely broken to resist.
"Isn't that right, Ryul?" you whispered into his ear. "Tell your best friend how much you need me to keep your little secret. Tell him who runs this house now."
Ryul didn't answer. He couldn't. He just sat there, shaking under your hand, his face buried so deeply in his palms that his tears seeped through his fingers and pooled on the cold marble.
You let out a mocking sigh, sliding your hand up from his shoulder to cup the back of his neck, your fingers anchoring into his hair just firmly enough to force his head up.
You wanted him to look at you. You wanted them both to see the sheer, unhinged pleasure dancing in your eyes.
"What's the matter Ryul? Mouth dry?" you asked, your voice dropping into a sing-song whisper.
"You were so talkative three years ago. Both of you were."
Ohyul took a menacing step forward, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles popped. "Don't touch him."
"Or what? You'll hit me?" You turned your head slightly, flashing him a wide, brilliant smile that didn't reach your cold eyes.
"You already have a violent assault charge on your record thanks to me. Go ahead. Make it a felony. See where your best friend ends up when I'm not here to hold his leash."
Ohyul froze, his jaw tight, his chest heaving with a helpless, suffocating rage.
You turned your attention back to Ryul, leaning down until your lips almost brushed his ear, though your voice was loud enough to slice through the entire room.
"Let’s talk about nostalgia." you murmured, your eyes wide and glassy.
"Let's talk about the dirty little secrets the two inseparable, golden boy best friends kept from the world. You think I only know about the malpractice, Ryul? You think I only care about the botched work?"
Ryul's breathing hitched. A fresh wave of absolute terror washed over his face.
"Please…" he whimpered. "Please, no."
"Oh fuck yes" you hissed, your smile stretching wider, becoming something truly terrifying.
"Let's talk about how you two actually treated her before she ended. Because Ohyul wasn't just some bystander, was he? You two did everything together."
You stepped back, slowly pacing around the kitchen island like a predator marking its territory.
"She was so young, so trusting," you said, your voice dripping with artificial sweetness as you picked up the old photograph again, tapping it against your chin.
"She thought she was dating a brilliant boy. She didn't know she was a game to you two. A bet. Do you remember the night at the cabin, Ryul? When you locked her phone in the car and left her there with Ohyul while you 'went to get drinks' for four hours?"
Ohyul’s face drained of color. The stoic, unbothered facade he had worn for weeks completely shattered.
"You think she didn't tell me?" you laughed, the sound jagged and entirely unhinged.
"She was crying in my arms the next day. She was so confused, so dirty, so deeply broken because she couldn't understand why the boy she loved would let his best friend touch her like that. Why you both laughed about it the next morning like she was just a piece of shared property."
"It wasn't—we didn't—" Ryul choked out, suffocating on his own panic, his hands wildly tearing at his hair.
"I didn't know he was going to—"
"Shut the fuck up, Ryul!" Ohyul suddenly roared, his voice cracking with a sickening mixture of guilt and defensive rage.
"Shut the hell up!"
"Look at you both." you whispered, stepping right back into the center of their collapsing world, looking down at them with absolute, radiant malice. "You used her, you degraded her, and then, when she finally got sick from the stress and the shame, you let her bleed out by her ownself, Ryul, because you were shaking from the hangover of the party you'd been at the night before."
You leaned over the counter, slamming the photograph down right in front of them.
"You tore her life apart piece by piece." you said, your voice dropping into a quiet hiss.
"So don't look at me like I'm the monster for doing the exact same thing to you. I am your legacy, boys. Now, who's going to clean up the kitchen? Because we're watching that movie, and I like my house spotless."
Ryul let out a strangled, breathless sound, his entire body convulsing as a violent panic attack seized him. The room was spinning. The air felt like wet cement in his lungs.
Every single defense mechanism he had built over the last three years, every lie he told himself to sleep at night was entirely gone.
He fell off the barstool, his knees hitting the hardwood floor with a sickening thud. He clutched his stomach, vomiting bile onto the polished floor, entirely undone by the sheer weight of his own monstrous reality.
He was hyperventilating, his eyes rolling back as he clawed at his own throat, suffocating on the memory of that cabin, the smell of the chilling realization of who was standing over him.
"Look at you." you whispered, your voice dripping with a casual, terrifying disgust as you stepped back to avoid the mess.
"A complete pathetic mess on the floor."
Ohyul couldn't take it anymore. Seeing his best friend physically collapsing was the breaking point. The guilt, the fear, the weeks of psychological torture, it all sublimated into protective adrenaline.
He lunged forward, placing his massive frame directly between you and Ryul. He didn't strike you, he knew the legal trap you had set but he grabbed your upper arms with a bruising, desperate grip, physically forcing you away from his sobbing friend.
"That's enough!" Ohyul roared, his voice shaking, tears finally burning in his own dark eyes.
"Stop it! Just stop! You've won! Look at him. He's dying right in front of you! Is this what you wanted?!"
You didn't struggle against his grip. You just looked up at him, your head tilted, your expression completely calm, almost bored, while his hands trembled against your skin.
"Get your hands off me, Ohyul," you murmured softly, your tone entirely devoid of fear. "Unless you want to add a domestic abuse charge to that assault record. I'm sure the police would love to come back here tonight."
"Call them then!" Ohyul screamed, his chest heaving as he stared down at you with a mixture of hatred and absolute despair.
"Call them! Put me in prison! I don't care anymore! But you are going to leave him alone tonight. You've taken my future, you've taken his sanity, you've turned us into ghosts in our own lives. What else do you want from us?!"
On the floor behind him, Ryul was curling into a fetal position, his hands over his ears, weeping uncontrollably as he repeated his dead ex girlfriend's name over and over into the floorboards.
You looked past Ohyul’s broad shoulder, staring directly at the broken man on the ground, and your smile slowly crept back onto your face. It was the expression of a scientist watching a perfectly executed experiment.
"What else do I want?" you whispered, looking back up into Ohyul's desperate, angry face.
"I want exactly what you gave my sister, Ohyul. I want you both to live in a prison where you can't breathe, can't sleep, and can't ever escape what you did. Now... let go of me before I make Ryul sign the eviction papers for you tonight."
Ohyul’s restraint snapped. The mention of the eviction, the threat of being completely severed from the only person left in his ruined world, while watching Ryul disintegrate on the floor blew past his selfpreservation.
With a raw, guttural roar, his arm whipped back and his fist connected heavily with the side of your face.
The force of the blow sent you crashing sideways against the marble island. The ceramic dish on the edge shattered to the floor, keys scattering in all directions. A sharp line of crimson instantly split your lip, dripping down your chin.
But before Ohyul could even process the weight of what he had just done, a terrifying shift happened on the floor.
Ryul stopped weeping. His hyperventilation cut off instantly.
The moment your blood hit the hardwood, something in Ryul’s fractured psyche completely broke. The pathetic, weeping coward vanished, replaced by an unhinged, violent adrenaline. He scrambled up from the floor like a feral animal, a manic screech tearing from his throat as he launched his entire weight directly into Ohyul’s back.
"Don't touch her!" Ryul screamed, his voice cracking into a psychotic register.
"Don't you fucking touch her!"
Ohyul stumbled forward, caught completely off guard as his best friend slammed him against the kitchen counter. Ryul’s fingers, normally so precise were curled into claws, tearing at Ohyul's shirt, pulling him away from you with terrifying strength.
"Ryul, get off me! She's destroying us!" Ohyul yelled, trying to throw his friend off without throwing a punch, his hands gripping Ryul’s shoulders. "Look at her, Ryul! She hates you! She's using her sister to kill us!"
"I don't care!" Ryul shrieked, his eyes wide, and completely devoid of reason. He was entirely blind to the truth now, utterly consumed by a deeply twisted, obsessive dependency.
He couldn't lose you.
If you left, the lie died, and he would have to face the monster in the mirror alone.
He needed your abuse, he needed your presence to survive.
"I love her! She's mine! You always try to take everything from me! You ruined her sister and now you're trying to ruin this!"
Ryul grabbed a glass whiskey decanter from the counter and swung it blindly, clipping Ohyul hard across the temple.
Ohyul groaned, dropping to his knees as blood began to pour from his hairline. He looked up at his best friend through a blurred, crimson haze, his heart breaking completely. The bond was gone. Ryul was completely gone.
Ryul didn't even check to see if Ohyul was breathing. He instantly dropped the decanter, letting it shatter, and fell to his knees in front of you.
"I fixed it, I fixed it, see?" Ryul whimpered, his hands shaking violently as he reached out, not daring to touch you, his face twisted in absolute, pathetic worship. He looked up at your bleeding lip with a terrifyingly vacant, desperate smile.
"I protected you. I'll get rid of him, I'll kick him out tonight. Just don't leave me. Please. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to make it right."
You wiped the blood from your lip with the back of your hand, leaning back against the island as you looked down at the absolute, beautiful ruin at your feet. Ohyul was bleeding, and Ryul was entirely yours, wrapped tightly around your finger, begging for his own execution.
Ryul slid completely off his knees, collapsing entirely onto the floor at your feet. He didn't care about the spilled whiskey, the shattered glass, or the blood dripping from Ohyul's forehead. His world had shrunk down to the square inch of space you occupied.
He pressed his forehead flat against the tops of your feet, his hands gripping your ankles so tightly his fingernails turned white. The messy blur of his tears soaked straight into your skin.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry," he sobbed, the words tearing out of him in a relentless, rhythmic chant. He was hyperventilating again, his shoulders heaving violently against your shins.
"Please don't leave. Please don't hate me. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you everything. Just tell me what you want me to say. Tell me who to be."
He lifted his face just an inch, his eyes wildly searching yours, completely blind to the cold, clinical amusement staring back down at him. His face was a mask of snot, tears, and absolute, pathetic ruin. He dragged his cheek across your feet, begging like a dog for a scrap of validation.
"I know what I did to her." he choked out, his voice cracking into a ragged whisper.
"I know I'm a monster. But you... you're here. You're the only thing keeping me alive. If you leave, I'm nothing. Please, let me fix your lip. Let me clean the blood. I'll get rid of Ohyul. He's gone. He's dead to me. Just look at me..."
A few feet away, Ohyul was leaning against the base of the cabinets, holding his bleeding temple. He watched the scene unfold through a haze of physical pain and sheer horror, Ryul pressing his face into the feet of the woman who had systematically dismantled their lives.
Ohyul let out a weak, bitter laugh, the sound wet and exhausted. "You really did it." he muttered, his voice hollow as he stared at you.
"He's completely insane."
You didn't even look at Ohyul. Your eyes remained locked on the broken man clinging to your ankles. Slowly, you reached down and ran your fingers through Ryul's hair, pulling just enough to force his tear streaked face up so he had to look right at your bleeding lip.
"You really love me that much, Ryul?" you whispered, your voice chillingly soft, almost tender.
"Yes, yes, more than anything," he gasped, nodding frantically, his eyes wide with terrifying hope. "Anything you want."
You smiled, the split on your lip widening, letting a fresh bead of crimson catch the kitchen light.
"Good. Then stand up, get his things, and throw your best friend out into the street."
Ryul’s frantic nodding stopped instantly. The word hung in the air, cold and absolute.
For a fraction of a second, a flicker of sanity tried to break through the fog of his obsession. His grip on your ankles loosened slightly. He looked up at you, his eyes wide, searching your face to see if it was a joke, a sick test, anything other than what it actually was.
But you just stared back down at him, your expression perfectly serene, the dark blood still glistening on your split lip. You tilted your head, your fingers still laced through his hair, gently tugging his head back just enough to keep his gaze locked with yours.
"Kill him." you repeated, your voice dropping into a soft whisper, like a lover sharing a beautiful secret.
"If you really love me, Ryul. If you want us to be together forever without his ghost hanging over us. Prove it to me. Erase the mistake."
Ohyul, still leaning heavily against the cabinets, froze. The physical pain from the head wound vanished under a cold rush of sheer survival instinct. He looked at his best friend and saw the exact moment the light of reason completely died in Ryul’s eyes.
"Ryul..." Ohyul croaked out, his voice cracking as he tried to push himself up using the counter.
"Ryul, don't. Wake up, man. Look at what she's doing to you."
Ryul didn't look at him. He didn't even acknowledge Ohyul's voice.
Instead, a slow, terrifyingly serene expression washed over Ryul’s tear streaked face. The panic attack was gone. The crying stopped. His obsessive dependency had completely swallowed his morality.
If you wanted blood to forgive him for your sister, he would give you the blood. It made perfect, twisted sense in his fractured mind.
"Kill him..." Ryul whispered back, repeating the command like a mantra. His hands slid away from your ankles, and he slowly stood up from the floor.
He didn't look like a pathetic or groveling boy anymore, he looked completely hollowed out, a meat suit entirely controlled by your will.
He turned his head slowly toward the kitchen island. His eyes landed on the jagged shard of the broken whiskey decanter lying in the pool of amber liquid on the floor.
"Ryul, stop!" Ohyul shouted, scrambling backward on his hands and knees, his feet slipping in the spilled alcohol as panic finally took over.
"She's insane! She's going to destroy you next!"
Ryul walked over to the island with deliberate, slow steps. He reached down and wrapped his hand around the thick, broken neck of the glass decanter, completely ignoring the way the sharp edge sliced directly into his palm, his own blood mixing with the whiskey. He didn't care about pain. He didn't care about the consequences.
He turned toward Ohyul, lifting the heavy piece of glass, his eyes completely fixed entirely on his best friend's throat.
You leaned back against the counter, crossing your arms, a look of pure ecstasy spreading across your face as you watched the two inseparable friends prepare to tear each other apart for your amusement.
Ohyul scrambled backward, his feet sliding through the slick mix of spilled whiskey and blood. His back slammed hard against the base of the refrigerator, trapping him. He looked up at Ryul, his breath coming in ragged, terrified gasps as he watched his best friend approach with that completely dead eyed stare.
"Ryul, please!" Ohyul begged, his voice cracking, raising his hands in a futile defensive gesture.
"It's me. Think about what you're doing!"
Ryul didn't blink. He raised the jagged neck of the broken decanter, his knuckles white, his own blood dripping from his sliced palm onto the floor. He stepped into Ohyul's space, completely deaf to the pleas of the only person who had ever truly covered for him.
You stood perfectly still by the kitchen island, your arms crossed over your chest, watching the climax of your three year symphony unfold. The air smelled of sharp alcohol and copper.
With a sudden, guttural screech, Ryul lunged downward, driving the sharp glass straight toward Ohyul’s chest.
Ohyul’s survival instinct kicked in. He threw his arms up, catching Ryul’s wrists mid air. The jagged glass stopped inches from his throat. The two men locked together, muscles straining, breathing heavily into each other's faces. Ohyul was larger, but Ryul was fueled by a manic, obsessive adrenaline that gave him terrifying strength.
"I have to do it," Ryul hissed through gritted teeth, a stream of saliva dripping from his mouth.
"She told me to. I have to make it right with her. I have to!"
"She's a ghost, Ryul!" Ohyul roared back, his arms trembling as he held the glass away from his throat.
"Mina is dead, and this one is going to send you to the electric chair! Look at her! She’s just watching you!"
Ryul’s eyes flickered for a split second, shifting over Ohyul’s shoulder to look at you.
You didn't say a word. You simply raised your hand, touched your bleeding, split lip with your index finger, and flashed him a cold, encouraging smile. That was all it took.
Ryul’s muscles suddenly went completely slack. The manic strength evaporated in an instant, and the jagged glass slipped from his bloodied hand, clattering harmlessly onto the floorboards. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his entire body collapsed forward, pinning Ohyul against the refrigerator.
The sheer physical exhaustion, combined with the severe panic attack and the blood loss from his sliced palm, had completely short-circuited his brain. He was entirely dead weight.
"Ryul? Ryul!" Ohyul choked out, his own shoulder burning from the jagged cut.
Panicking, Ohyul pushed his friend’s limp torso off him, desperately catching Ryul before his head hit the marble. He rolled Ryul over onto his back, his hands shaking violently as he slapped his best friend’s pale, sweat slicked cheek.
"Hey! Wake up! Ryul, look at me! Breathe, damn it, breathe!"
Ohyul yelled, completely forgetting his own safety as he pressed two fingers against Ryul’s neck, searching frantically for a pulse. His heart was hammering against his ribs, despite everything, the instinct to save his friend was hardwired into him.
From the edge of the kitchen island, a sharp, irritated sound cut through his panic.
You let out a loud, dramatic whine, stamping your foot against the floor like a disappointed child whose favorite toy had just broken.
"Are you serious right now?" you groaned, throwing your hands up in absolute exasperation. You stared at Ryul's unconscious body with total disgust, completely ignoring the pool of blood expanding around him.
"Right at the best part? God, he really is entirely pathetic. I was about to watch the absolute best revenge of my life, and he just faints? What a total buzzkill."
Ohyul froze.
Hearing those words, watching you complain about a missed show while his childhood friend lay unconscious and bleeding on the floor caused something to fundamentally shift inside him. The paralyzing fear he had felt for the last month completely dried up, leaving behind a cold, lethal fury.
Slowly, Ohyul lowered Ryul’s head gently to the floor. He stood up, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the kitchen. The blood from his temple smeared across his shirt, making him look like a phantom risen from the grave.
He didn't look at Ryul anymore. He looked at you, his eyes burning with an intense, quiet rage that actually made the air in the room feel heavy.
"A buzzkill?" Ohyul whispered, his voice dangerously low, avoiding the shattered glass as he walked toward you.
"He was about to murder me for you. He completely destroyed his soul for you. And you're mad because your entertainment got cut short?"
You blinked, your smug smile faltering just a fraction as you realized he wasn't backing down this time. You tried to step back toward the counter where your keys were, but Ohyul closed the distance in a single, massive stride, trapping you against the marble.
"You really are a demon."
Ohyul hissed, his jaw clenching so hard it looked like it might shatter. "Mina died because of a mistake. But you... you are entirely evil."
You didn't flinch away from his shadow. Instead, you leaned right into his space, your bloody, split lip curling into a sneer that was pure venom.
"My mistake?" you spat, your voice sharp enough to draw blood.
"My fault? You two arrogant pricks treated my sister like a piece of garbage, let her bleed out on a table, and you have the nerve to stand there looking at me like I'm the problem?!"
Before he could even process the words, your hand shot out. You grabbed a small, jagged shard of the broken whiskey decanter from the counter next to you. With a lightning fast, vicious swipe, you sliced it right across the back of Ohyul's raised forearm.
He grunted, flinching back as a fresh line of crimson split his skin.
"He's not dead, you idiot!" you yelled, gesturing wildly at Ryul's limp body with the bloody piece of glass. Ryul was chest heaving, snoring softly in a deep, stress induced coma of pure physical and mental exhaustion.
He was alive, just entirely spent. "He's just a coward who couldn't handle the pressure! He fainted because he's weak! Just like he was too weak to save Mina!"
"Shut up about Mina!" Ohyul roared, his voice rattling the glasses in the cupboard. He gripped his bleeding arm, his face contorted in a mix of fury and agonizing guilt.
"You don't get to use her memory to justify this! We made mistakes. Horrible, disgusting mistakes but you are a literal psycho! Look at this apartment! Look at what you've done to him!"
"I made him honest!" you shrieked back, stepping up onto your tiptoes to get right in his face, completely unbothered by the fact that he was twice your size.
"He wanted to pretend he was a saint, Ohyul! He wanted to wear his little white coat and pretend he didn't help you ruin a girl's life! I just brought the truth out into the open! I gave him exactly what he deserved, and I was going to give you what you deserved!"
"By turning him into a murderer?!" Ohyul slammed his good hand down on the island, the marble vibrating under the blow.
"You didn't want justice! You wanted a show! You're a monster, and the second Ryul wakes up, I'm dragging him out of here. We are done playing your sick little game."
You let out a loud, mocking laugh, tossing the glass shard into the sink with a loud clatter.
"Go ahead, try it." you whispered, your voice suddenly dropping into that terrifyingly calm, venomous register. "Drag him away. But remember, Ohyul... his name is on the apartment, your name is on the police report, and I still have the rest of my sister's diary. You think this was the only secret I found?"
Ohyul’s entire body went rigid. The breath caught in his throat, and for a terrifying second, the rage in his eyes flickered, replaced by a cold, hollow dread.
"The diary..." he whispered, his voice suddenly sounding entirely stripped of its previous strength.
"Oh, did you think she only wrote about the cabin?" You leaned your hip against the counter, casually crossing your arms as if you were discussing the weather rather than their systematic destruction.
"She was a chronicler, Ohyul. She wrote down the dates. She wrote down the text messages. She wrote down the things you said to her in the apartment parking lot when you threatened her to keep her mouth shut about the bet."
You took a slow step forward, forcing him to take a step back. Your bloody lip stretched into a wide grin.
"You think a violent assault charge is bad? Let's see what happens when the medical board, the police, and the press get a look at the full timeline. Let's see how the world treats the brilliant Kim Ryul and his loyal little fixer when they realize her 'unavoidable complication' was preceded by months of psychological abuse and harassment."
Ohyul stared at you, his chest heaving as the walls completely closed in. He looked down at Ryul, who was still dead to the world on the kitchen floor, breathing in slow, heavy rumbles, completely oblivious to the fact that his entire existence was still being bartered away.
"You're bluffing." Ohyul choked out, though his trembling hands betrayed him. "If you had that, you would have used it already."
"I am using it," you purred, stepping right up to him until the metallic scent of the blood on your lip was all he could smell.
"I'm using it to keep you exactly where I want you. You thought you could just pack up and leave? You thought you could take your little pet and run away?"
You reached out, your fingers slowly wrapping around the collar of his blood stained shirt, bunching the fabric in your fist.
"Nobody leaves this apartment until I say so. Now." you whispered, glancing over at the mess on the floor,
"your friend is going to be asleep for a very long time. And this kitchen is a disaster. Start cleaning."
Ohyul stood frozen, his chest heaving as the weight of your words settled like lead in his stomach. He looked down at his bleeding arm, then at his best friend unconscious on the floor, and finally back at you. The raw fury that had consumed him just moments ago was entirely strangled out by hopelessness. He was completely outmaneuvered.
With a hollow, defeated exhale, he let his shoulders drop. He slowly pulled away from your grip, refusing to look you in the eye as he sank back down to his knees.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice entirely dead. "Fine."
Avoiding the jagged pieces of glass, Ohyul carefully slid his hands under Ryul's armpits. Grunting through the sharp pain in his own sliced arm, he dragged his best friend’s limp, heavy body across the floor, away from the puddle of spilled whiskey and bile, propping his back gently against the living room sofa. Ryul barely even groaned, he was completely dead to the world, utterly spent from the madness.
You watched from the kitchen island, a satisfied, quiet hum vibrating in your throat. You casually reached for a clean dish towel, dabbing at your split lip while you watched Ohyul walk back into the kitchen.
He didn't say a word to you. He grabbed the roll of paper towels and a trash bag, dropping to his knees to begin picking up the sharp shards of the shattered decanter. His hands shook slightly, the dark blood from his own cuts smearing against the white paper as he wiped the marble floor.
You leaned back, completely ruling the apartment once again. The storm had passed, leaving behind two utterly broken men.
One asleep in a state of psychological ruin, and the other quietly scrubbing blood off the floor, entirely trapped in the palm of your hand.
"Make sure you get the spots near the refrigerator, Ohyul," you murmured carelessly, turning on your heel to head toward the bedroom. "I can still smell the whiskey from here."
The apartment fell into a heavy, dead silence. In the living room, Ryul was completely dead to the world on the sofa, his breathing slow and shallow, utterly spent from the night's madness.
You waited until the clock on the microwave shifted to 2:00 AM. Smiling softly, you stepped out of your bedroom, your bare feet making absolutely no sound on the hardwood floors. You didn't look at Ryul as you passed him, your eyes were entirely fixed on the narrow sliver of light leaking from under Ohyul’s door.
You pushed his door open without knocking.
Ohyul was sitting on the edge of his bed, bare chested, wrapped in the quiet trauma of the evening. He was carefully wrapping a fresh white bandage around the slice on his forearm. The moment the door clicked, his head snapped up, his dark eyes instantly narrowing into a defensive, guarded stare.
"What do you want?" he muttered, his voice gravelly and completely exhausted. "The kitchen is clean."
Instead of answering with the sharp malice from earlier, you let out a soft, tired sigh. You stepped into his room, closing the door behind you with a gentle click.
You were wearing an oversized, soft knit sweater that swallowed your frame, making you look fragile, almost sweet a complete contrast to the monster he had fought hours ago.
You walked over to his bed, entirely ignoring his rigid posture, and sank onto the mattress right next to him.
"You're doing it wrong," you murmured softly.
Before he could pull away, you reached out and gently took the roll of bandage from his trembling fingers. Ohyul froze, his muscles locking tight as you leaned closer. You could feel the intense, radiating heat of his anger, but you just smiled, using your soft fingers to carefully pat down the gauze, wrapping it with a practiced, surprisingly tender touch.
"Don't touch me," he whispered, though he didn't physically pull away. He was too tired, too completely drained to fight the sudden, dizzying shift in your demeanor.
"Shh," you whispered, looking up through your eyelashes, your eyes wide and completely clear. The split on your lip was still slightly red, making you look strangely vulnerable. "Ryul is asleep. We don't need to yell anymore."
You leaned your weight slightly against his broad shoulder, sighing contentedly as if you hadn't just tried to have him killed. You took his large, calloused hand in yours, tracing the lines of his palm with your index finger. It was a cozy, intimate gesture pure fluff on the surface, but underneath, the trap was springing open again. You were feeding his starvation for peace, making him feel, just for a second, like the nightmare was over.
"You really hate me, don't you, Ohyul?" you asked softly, your voice dripping with a gentle, melodic sadness.
Ohyul stared down at your hands intertwined with his. His brain told him to scream, to push you off the bed, to run. But his body was so heavy, and the quiet warmth of the room, the soft scent of your perfume mixing with the cotton sheets was a terrifyingly sweet relief from the horror of the kitchen.
"You're insane." he mumbled, his jaw clenching, but his fingers twitched against yours, failing to pull away from the comfort you were offering.
"Maybe." you cooed softly, leaning your head completely against his chest, listening to the rapid, panicked thumping of his heart. "But I'm the only one who really understands you now. Ryul thinks you're the enemy. The world thinks you're a criminal. But you're just loyal, Ohyul. And I love loyalty."
You squeezed his hand, drawing him deeper into the quiet, cozy darkness of his room, letting him believe, even if it was a beautiful lie, that he was safe in your arms.
The rapid, panicked thumping of Ohyul’s heart gradually began to slow under the steady, warm weight of your head against his chest. The silence of the bedroom wrapped around you both, thick and heavy, entirely detached from the wreckage on the other side of the door.
Ohyul stared straight ahead at the far wall, his arm still frozen where you had bandaged it. He didn't push you away. The sheer exhaustion had bypassed his anger, leaving behind a raw, hollow space that just wanted the fighting to stop.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked softly, his voice lacking the gravelly rage from before. It was just a quiet, tired question. "Sitting here like this. Acting like... like you don't completely despise us."
You shifted slightly, your cheek brushing against his shirt as you looked down at his large hand, still resting in yours. Your fingers traced the knuckles that had hit your face just hours earlier.
"I don't despise you, Ohyul," you murmured, your voice a gentle, rhythmic hum in the quiet room. "Despise is too simple. It’s loud, and it burns out too fast."
"Then what is it?" He finally turned his head, looking down at you. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, the sharp defensive lines of his face had softened.
"Because one minute you're telling him to end my life, and the next, you're sitting on my bed wrapping my arm. It’s a sick game."
"It's not a game," you said, looking up to meet his dark, exhausted eyes. You reached up, your fingers light as a feather as you gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from his bleeding temple, where Ryul had struck him. He flinched slightly but stayed still. "When Mina died, the world just kept moving. Everyone went back to work. Ryul went back to his residency. You kept protecting him. It was like she never existed."
You let your hand drop back down, resting your palm flat against his chest, right over his heart.
"I didn't come here just to smash things," you whispered, your voice genuinely soft, filled with a quiet, reflective weight.
"I came to make the world stop moving for you two, the way it stopped for her. I wanted you both to feel the absolute weight of being completely stuck."
Ohyul let out a long, slow breath, his chest rising and falling beneath your palm. He looked away, staring down at his bandaged forearm.
"We do feel it," he said quietly, the confession slipping out before he could stop it.
"We’ve felt it every single day for three years. You think Ryul drank because he was celebrating? You think I took the blame for his mistakes because I thought it was funny? We’ve been living in that room since the day she passed."
He closed his eyes, his broad shoulders dropping as the immense fatigue of carrying his best friend's sins finally crushed him.
"We did terrible things." Ohyul whispered into the dark.
"We treated her like she didn't matter. And by the time we realized what we’d done, she was gone. There was no way to apologize. No way to fix it. We were already trapped long before you ever walked into that cafe."
You listened to the steady rumble of his voice satisfaction blooming deep inside you, not because you were angry, but because he was finally being completely honest. He was letting his guard down, letting you see the soft, bleeding center of his guilt.
"I know," you cooed softly, sliding your hand up to wrap gently around the back of his neck, pulling him just a fraction closer into the cozy warmth of the bed.
"That’s why you’re still here, Ohyul. Because deep down, you know you belong to this nightmare. You know you belong to me."
Ohyul didn't answer, but his fingers finally closed around yours, holding onto your hand in the dark like a drowning man touching solid ground, completely unaware that he was stepping right into the center of your web.
The silence stretched out, thick and heavy, until the only sound left was the synchronized rhythm of your breathing. Ohyul’s grip on your hand didn't loosen.
If anything, his fingers tightened slightly, a subconscious reflex of a man who had been holding up everyone else's weight for years and finally had nothing left to carry.
"If I stay," Ohyul whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he stared into the dim corners of the room, "if I stay right here in this nightmare... do you stop tearing him apart?"
You shifted your head against his chest, tilting your chin up to look at his sharp profile. The lighting cast long, soft shadows across his jaw, blurring the hardened lines of the fixer and leaving only the exhausted boy underneath.
"You're still trying to protect him," you murmured, a tiny, genuine smile touching your lips.
"Even after he held a knife to your throat. Even after he chose a lie over your life. You really are a fool, Ohyul."
"He's all I have," Ohyul said simply. He turned his head, his dark eyes locked onto yours, completely raw and unguarded.
"And now... so are you. That’s the joke of it, isn't it? We’re the only three people left in the world who know the truth of what happened to her. We're the only ones who remember."
You didn't answer right away. Instead, you slowly slid your hand from the back of his neck, your fingers brushing over his jawline, tracing the hard set of his mouth. He didn't pull away. He just watched you, completely mesmerized, breathing in the quiet, cozy warmth of the small bedroom while his best friend slept a drug like sleep down the hall.
"It's not a joke," you whispered, your voice dropping into an intimate purr.
"It's a family. We're bound together by a ghost, Ohyul. You, me, and Ryul. And as long as you stay right here, by my side, I'll let Ryul sleep in his little delusions. I won't break him anymore. I'll let him play the good boyfriend, and I'll play the loving girlfriend."
You leaned up, your lips brushing a fraction of an inch away from his ear, your breath warm against his skin.
"But you..." you whispered, "you will always know the truth. Every time you look at me, every time you walk into this house, you’ll remember exactly why you’re here. You’re my price for his sanity."
Ohyul let out a long, ragged exhale that shuddered through his entire frame. He closed his eyes, and for the first time since you had entered his life, he let his head drop forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder.
He gave up. The trap had snapped shut, lined with soft velvet and the scent of your perfume, and he was completely, willingly ensnared.
"Deal..." he choked out against the fabric of your sweater, his large hand burying itself into your hair, holding you close in the dark.
"Just... stay here tonight. Don't go back out there."
You wrapped your arms around his broad, scarred shoulders, pulling him down onto the pillows with you into the deep, deceptive comfort of the bed, a quiet, brilliant triumph singing in your veins.
Ohyul didn't move. He kept his forehead pressed heavily against your shoulder, his large hand still tangled in your hair, holding onto you like an anchor in a pitch black sea. The room felt smaller now, suffocated by the sheer mass of the three year old secret they had tried so hard to bury.
A shudder ran through his broad chest, and his voice came out muffled, thick with a sudden, painful vulnerability.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered into the soft fabric of your sweater. His fingers tightened slightly in your hair, a desperate, physical manifestation of his guilt.
"I am so goddamn sorry. For all of it. For what we did at the cabin, for the way we treated her like an option, for... for letting him walk away from it cleanly while she went into the ground. I’m sorry."
You lay perfectly still beneath him, your eyes wide and unblinking in the dim shadows of the bedroom. The cozy, soft fluff of the bed didn't melt away, but your expression went completely cold, stripped of the playful malice from before. It was replaced by a hollow, aching stillness.
Slowly, you reached up and gripped his wrist, pulling his hand out of your hair. You didn't push him away, but you forced him to lift his head so he had to look at you.
"Your apology means absolutely nothing, Ohyul," you said, your voice devastatingly quiet, It was just flat, heavy reality.
"She is already dead. You can scream it into the floorboards until your lungs bleed, and it won't bring a single drop of warmth back into her skin."
Ohyul’s jaw tightened, a tear finally escaping his eye and tracing a wet line through the dried blood on his cheek.
"My sister, Ohyul," you whispered, your grip tightening on his wrist until your knuckles turned white.
"My own bloodline. The only person in this world who actually belonged to me. Do you have any idea what it felt like to watch her change? To see her start shrinking into herself because of what you two did to her?"
You looked past him at the closed bedroom door, your eyes glassy as the raw, unhealed grief threatened to swallow the cold persona you wore like armor.
"She didn't want your money. She didn't want Ryul's prestige or his fancy apartment," you said, your voice cracking slightly, the genuine heartbreak bleeding through.
"She just wanted love. She just wanted care. She trusted you both because she thought you were good men. She thought if she loved Ryul enough, if she was kind enough to you, that she’d finally have a family."
A suffocating silence fell between you. Ohyul didn't try to defend himself. He didn't offer another empty excuse. He just looked down at your face, seeing the shattered sibling behind the terrifying mastermind for the very first time.
"She was so gentle," you whispered, a single tear slipping from the corner of your eye, cutting through the edge of your split lip.
"And you two treated her like a game."
Ohyul let out a ragged, broken breath. He didn't pull his wrist away from your grip. Instead, he leaned down further, slowly, gently pressing his forehead against yours, sharing the same grief stricken air in the dark room.
"I know," he choked out, his voice entirely shattered.
"I know we broke her. And I'll let you break me every single day if it means you get to carry that weight a little less. Just tell me how to be the punishment you want."
You bit your inner cheek so hard the iron taste of blood mixed with the cut on your lip. Your chest heaved, a sharp, ragged breath catching in your throat as you fought with everything you had to lock the grief back inside its cage.
You didn't want to show him this. You didn't want to show the fixer, the man who helped cover up her death, a single ounce of your real vulnerability.
But the tears came anyway. They slipped silently from the corners of your eyes, hot and heavy, soaking into the pillow beneath your head. Even as your face contorted in a silent, agonizing struggle to maintain your cold composure, your shoulders began to tremble.
Ohyul didn't pull back. He stayed right there, his forehead resting gently against yours, feeling the literal vibration of your heartbreak.
Slowly, with a tentative softness that seemed entirely impossible for a man of his size and history, he shifted. He brought his good hand up, his thumb gently wiping away a hot tear as it slid down your temple. His touch wasn't a trap, it wasn't a maneuver.
It was completely, entirely real.
"Hey," Ohyul whispered, his voice dropping into a comforting rumble that vibrated against your own chest.
"Stop fighting it. You don't have to be the monster in here."
You shook your head against the pillow, your jaw clenching as a small, choked sob escaped your lips despite your best efforts. You tried to turn your face away from him, to hide in the darkness of the mattress, but his hand followed, gently cupping the side of your face to keep you anchored to him.
"You can cry," he murmured softly, his dark eyes looking down at you with a heavy, unblinking sincerity.
"You've been carrying her ghost by yourself for three years. You don't have to hold it up right now. Just let it out."
The permission broke the final thread of your control.
A raw sob tore out of your throat, and you buried your face straight into the crook of Ohyul’s neck. Your fingers, which had been holding a shard of glass hours ago, curled tightly on his bed sheet, bunching it in your fists as the dam completely collapsed.
You wept for Mina.
You wept for the sister who just wanted to be loved, for the empty bedroom, for the sheer, exhausting weight of the revenge you had built your entire life around.
Ohyul closed his eyes, a grimace of pure empathetic pain crossing his face. He wrapped his massive arms entirely around your trembling frame, pulling you flush against his chest. He held you tight, shielding you from the rest of the apartment, from the unconscious Ryul down the hall, and from the nightmare you had all created.
He didn't say any more empty words. He just let you ruin his shirt with your tears, quietly bearing the brunt of your grief, finally becoming the solid, unyielding anchor you had been denied the day your sister died.
The morning light did not break into the apartment with any sense of warmth or renewal.
Instead, it slid through the towering, floor to ceiling windows of the high rise like a cold, gray blade, illuminating every stark detail of the previous night’s ruin.
You sat perfectly still on the edge of the kitchen island. The soft knit sweater you had worn into Ohyul’s bedroom hours ago felt heavy now, its fibers scratching against your skin like a physical manifestation of the sudden, freezing detachment that had taken over your body the second your eyes opened.
The vulnerability of the dark room, the hot tears you had shed against Ohyul’s chest, the way his massive arms had held you like an anchor was gone.
It had been swallowed completely by the grey morning.
Across the room, the first signs of life emerged from the living room sofa.
Ryul stirred. A low, pathetic groan rattled in his throat as his eyes fluttered open against the blinding glare of the morning sun. The movement was instant agony. The sheer physical and mental exhaustion of his panic attack, combined with the severe hangover from the whiskey he had used to drown his conscience, hit him all at once. But far worse than the physical pain was the sudden, violent rush of memory.
He bolted upright, his chest heaving as his eyes darted wildly around the room. His hands still wrapped in the crude, bloody cloth from when he had sliced his palm open shook so violently they looked palsied. He stared at the floorboards where the shattered glass had been swept away, then at the dark stains on the refrigerator where he had pinned Ohyul.
The memory of the knife of his absolute, manic willingness to butcher his best friend just to appease you slammed into his brain with the force of a physical blow.
He looked like an animal that had survived a trap but had left its own limb behind.
"Ohyul…" Ryul choked out, his voice cracked and raw. He staggered off the sofa, his knees nearly buckling under his weight. "Ohyul!"
The hallway door clicked open, and Ohyul stepped into the kitchen.
He had changed his shirt into a plain black t-shirt, but the thick, white bandages wrapping his forearm and the angry bruise forming on his temple where Ryul had struck him were entirely visible. He stopped dead in his tracks, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the hardwood. His dark eyes, completely deadened by a lack of sleep, locked onto Ryul.
There was no anger left in Ohyul's face. There was no protective, fixer instinct. There was only a profound exhaustion.
"I'm here." Ohyul said. His voice was entirely flat.
Ryul stumbled toward him, his bloody hands reaching out as if to touch Ohyul's shoulder, to verify that he hadn't actually murdered him in the dark.
"I… Ohyul, my god, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. The glass, … she told me to do it, she said—"
"I know what she said," Ohyul interrupted, his voice dropping an octave, completely cutting Ryul off. He didn't flinch away from Ryul's reach, but he didn't lean into it either. He stood like a stone wall that had been battered by too many storms. "And I know what you did."
"I lost my mind," Ryul sobbed, dropping to his knees right there on the kitchen floor, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook violently as three years of buried terror, guilt, and the horrific realization of what he had almost become finally broke through his arrogant facade.
"I almost killed you. For what? For her? She hates us. She's a monster, Ohyul. She’s going to destroy us."
You watched the display from your perch on the counter. A tiny, mirthless smile touched your lips, but it didn't reach your eyes. Your eyes remained entirely hollow.
"You're wrong, Ryul," you said softly, your voice cutting through his sobbing like dry winter wind.
Both men froze. Ryul slowly lifted his head, his face pale and smeared with tears and old blood, looking up at you as if you were a ghost haunting his living room.
Ohyul didn't look at Ryul, his gaze slowly drifted up to meet yours, recalling the weight of you crying in his arms just hours prior.
"I'm not going to destroy you." you murmured, swinging your legs lightly against the kitchen island.
"You've already done that yourselves. I just gave you the mirror."
You slid off the counter, your bare feet making no sound as you walked over to the edge of the living room, standing just a few feet away from where Ryul knelt on the floor.
You looked down at him, your expression completely devoid of the fiery malice from the night before. There was no theatricality left in you. The game was over, and all that was left was the cold, unvarnished truth.
"Do you want to know the funniest part about this entire month, Ryul?" you asked, leaning your hip against the back of the sofa. "Do you want to know what the grand, terrifying secret was? The one I used to keep you awake at night? The one that made you hold a weapon to the only person who has ever actually protected you?"
Ryul stared at you, his mouth slightly open, a cold dread freezing the breath in his throat.
"There is no police report," you said simply.
"There is no hidden recording. There is no secret diary detailing the exact minute Mina died in that cabin while you two panicked over your careers."
The room went entirely, terrifyingly still. The only sound was the distant hum of traffic thirty stories below.
Ryul blinked, his brain struggling to process the words through the thick fog of his hangover. "What… what did you say?"
"I said I was bluffing," you replied, your voice chillingly casual.
"I had nothing. I had her old phone with a few vague text messages, a couple of journal entries about how distant you were being, and a gut feeling that something disgusting happened to her. That’s it. I didn't have enough to get a traffic ticket investigated, let alone a manslaughter charge."
Ohyul’s jaw clenched. He didn't move a muscle, but his chest expanded as he let out a long, shuddering breath. He looked down at the floor, a bitter, hollow understanding settling into his eyes.
"But you," you continued, your eyes locking onto Ryul, your voice dropping into a register that felt like a physical weight in the room.
"The second I dropped her name, you panicked. You built the prison for me. You handed me the keys. Every single threat, every single boundary I pushed, you let me do it because your own guilt was so heavy you thought everyone else could see it too."
You walked a slow circle around Ryul’s kneeling form, your shadow passing over him.
"I didn't break your mind, Ryul. Your own cowardice did. I just stood in the room and watched you unravel. I watched you turn into a trembling, paranoid wreck. And last night…"
You paused, looking over at Ohyul, whose eyes were still fixed on the floor.
"…last night, I watched you pick up a piece of glass and try to butcher your brother. For a fantasy. For a lie."
Ryul looked up at Ohyul, his face completely distorted by a sudden, agonizing wave of realization. "Ohyul… I… I didn't mean to… she said you were going to turn me in…"
"He was never going to turn you in." you said, scoffing softly as you walked back toward the kitchen island.
"Ohyul would have let me slice his other arm off before he ever let anyone touch you. He carried your filth for three years, Ryul. He ruined his own life, became a criminal fixer, and lived like a dog in the shadows just so Kim Ryul could keep his white coat clean. And the very first time you felt threatened, you tried to cut his throat."
You leaned back against the counter, crossing your arms.
"Look at what you are," you whispered.
"Look at what you became the second the lights went out."
Ryul let out a ragged, dry heave, bowing his head until his forehead touched the cold hardwood floor. He was entirely shattered. The realization that he had destroyed his relationship with Ohyul, that he had exposed his own monstrous selfishness for a threat that didn't even exist—was a psychological execution.
There was no coming back from it. He could apologize a thousand times, he could scrub the blood off his hands, but he would always know that when the pressure reached its peak, he was a murderer at heart.
You turned your gaze to Ohyul. He was still standing in the exact same spot, his broad shoulders slumped, his eyes hollowed out.
"And you," you said softly to him. "The great protector. The loyal dog."
Ohyul slowly raised his head to look at you. The tenderness from the bedroom was entirely gone from his eyes, replaced by a cold, resigned acceptance. "Are you done?"
"I’ve been done," you said.
"You thought you were saving him by staying with me last night. You thought you were making a sacrifice, bartering your own body and soul to keep me from breaking his sanity. But the truth is, Ohyul, you stayed because you wanted the punishment. You wanted someone to tell you that you were a piece of garbage, because you’ve been thinking it every day since Mina died."
Ohyul didn't deny it. He just stood there, letting your words strip away the final layers of his defense.
"You both built this hell," you said, picking up your purse from the counter and slinging it over your shoulder.
"I didn't have to do anything but light a single match. You did the rest of the burning yourselves."
You walked past Ohyul, your shoulder brushing against his black t-shirt. He didn't move to stop you. He didn't reach out to grab your wrist the way he used to.
The power dynamic had completely collapsed, there was no more leverage, no more secrets to protect, because the worst possible truth had already been laid bare in the middle of the room.
You reached the heavy front door of the apartment. Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal handle, and for a split second, you expected to feel a rush of victory.
You expected to feel the phantom weight of Mina’s memory lifting off your chest, a sudden, soaring sense of justice that would finally allow you to breathe.
But as you pulled the door open, letting the harsh, fluorescent light of the hallway cut into the room, nothing changed.
The air in your lungs still felt like ash. Your chest still felt hollow, an empty, cavernous space that no amount of revenge could ever fill. You looked back one last time.
Ryul was still sobbing on the floor, a broken, shivering shell of a man who would never look at a scalpel the same way again. Ohyul was standing over him, his face carved from stone, completely trapped in a lifetime of mutual resentment and shattered trust with the only person he had left.
You had entirely destroyed them. You had torn their lives apart, exposed their rot, and left them to bleed out in the middle of their pristine, expensive high rise.
But as you stepped out into the hallway and heard the heavy door click shut behind you, the brutal, grounding truth finally slammed into your own chest.
The monster you had built to hunt them down wasn't a mask you could just take off.
You had spent three years feeding your own soul into the fire of this revenge, burning away your kindness, your future, your own ability to love or be loved, just so you could become the perfect weapon to break them. And now that they were broken, the weapon had no purpose left.
You walked toward the elevator, your bare feet cold against the hallway tile. You hadn't just destroyed the men who let your sister die.
In the process of hunting them, you had completely, irrevocably destroyed yourself too.
You were just as hollow, just as ruined, and just as trapped in that cabin as they were and no one was coming to save you either.
You walked toward the elevator, your feet freezing against the smooth hallway tile. Your fingers shook as you reached up to press the cold metal button, but your hand stopped mid air. Slowly, your eyes drifted down to your own forearm.
You pulled back the thick, oversized sleeve of the knit sweater.
There, hidden beneath the soft fabric, was a lattice of thin, jagged red lines, some old and faded into white silver, others red, raised, and freshly scabbed over.
You hadn't just been collecting their blood over the last month, you had been spilling your own the entire time. Every single night the walls of that apartment felt too small,
Every time the phantom image of Mina’s cold face flashed in your mind, you had taken a blade to your own flesh just to feel a physical pain loud enough to drown out the screaming in your head.
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers tracing the sharp ridges of the fresh cuts. The manic, terrifying strength that had carried you through the apartment was entirely gone.
You weren't a mastermind. You were just a bleeding, broken girl who had used the last remnants of her ruined sanity to construct a monster.
Inside the apartment, the heavy click of the front door closing left a suffocating, dead silence in its wake.
Ryul remained curled on the floor, his forehead pressed against the hardwood, his breath hitching in weak, pathetic stammers. Ohyul stood completely motionless above him, staring blankly at the empty space where you had just been standing. The dynamic between them was entirely shattered, the air between them poisoned beyond repair.
Then, a tiny, crisp sound broke the quiet.
A gentle draft from the air conditioning unit caught the edge of a folded piece of paper you had left resting on the very edge of the marble island. It slid forward, catching the air, and fluttered softly down to the floor, landing right between Ryul’s trembling hands and Ohyul’s feet.
Ohyul’s dark eyes tracked the movement. He knelt down, his bandaged arm stiff, and picked up the heavy, textured paper. It wasn't a diary entry. It wasn't a police report.
It was an official, stamped document from a psychiatric hospital.
"Ryul," Ohyul whispered, his voice suddenly losing all of its stone cold composure.
Ryul slowly lifted his tear streaked face, his bloodshot eyes focusing on the paper as Ohyul unfolded it, smoothing it flat on the floor between them.
It was a comprehensive medical evaluation under your legal name, dated just months after Mina’s passing. The text was dense with clinical, unfeeling terminology, but the bold headers at the bottom of the page stood out like a death sentence:
Diagnosis: Major Depressive Disorder (Severe, with psychotic features).
Clinical Notes: Patient exhibits profound trauma induced dissociation and a severe lack of impulse control. Displays textbook symptoms of a severe personality and behavioral disorder characterized by hyper-fixation on vengeance, manic episodes, and calculated, destructive manipulation of reality.
Patient reports an inability to control behavioral outbursts, stating: "I don't want to be a monster, but the sickness moves my body before I can stop it." High risk of severe, repetitive non-suicidal self-injury (NSSI).
Ryul’s breath hitched as he read the words. He had used to protect his own ego for three years, finally forced him to understand the brutal, horrifying reality of what they had been dealing with.
She wasn't a brilliant, untouchable villain.
She wasn't a calculated executioner playing a master game.
She was a deeply, profoundly sick girl who was entirely drowning in a severe psychological collapse.
The terrifying "psycho" they had been fighting wasn't a choice, it was a terminal illness of the mind, a violent chemical storm born from the grief they had inflicted on her family.
She hadn't wanted to do any of this. The sickness had simply taken the wheel of her broken body, using her hands to tear them apart because she had no other way to process the agony of her loss.
"She didn't have a plan, Ohyul..." Ryul choked out, a completely new kind of horror dawning on his face as he stared at the diagnostic papers.
"She was just... she was just dying in front of us."
Ohyul closed his eyes, a single tear finally spilling over his dark lashes, soaking into the bandage on his arm.
The final, most brutal truth of the night had settled into the room.
They hadn't been defeated by a superior enemy,
They had been exposed by a broken child who had sacrificed the absolute last pieces of her mind just to make them feel a fraction of her pain.
Outside, the elevator doors finally slid open with a soft, melodic chime.
You stepped inside the mirrored cabin and turned around to face the closing doors. As the steel panels slowly slid together, cutting off the view of the hallway, you caught sight of your own reflection in the glass.
Your lip was split. Your eyes were completely hollow, wide, and entirely vacant.
The girl who had loved Mina, the girl who used to laugh, the girl who had desperately wanted care and a family,
She was gone. There was nothing left inside the sweater but a cold, empty shell, completely consumed by the fire you had built to destroy them.
The elevator began its long, silent descent into the dark.
GIIIIRL where is the last part of behind the drywall 😭😭😭😭😭
girl i'm still not satisfied with the endinggg 😭 i'm still working on it because it's so damn harddd. i don't wanna give y'all an ending i'm not happy with 🥹 please wait for meee 🫶
YES I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS DAY JST TO READ IT IT😭😭
ARGGG I'M SO STRESSEDDD OVER THE ENDINGGG 😭😭 for some reason, i just want to keep the series going, but i know i can't 🥹 i'll post it asap, dearr. please wait for meee 🫶🤍
helloo dearr 🥹 i'm trying to finish it as fast as i can. it's taking me way longer than i expected and i genuinely don't know how to end it 😭 i'll post it tomorrow if i can. i'm really sorryyy 🫶
SUMMARY: Where the reader smokes marijuana for the first time with plug!Ryul. Both of them get bold and partake in certain activities.
WARNINGS: smoking, drinking mentioned, cursing, fingering, eating kitty, a little bit of pet names... maybe more?
NOTES: Hi guys.... this is my first time ever writing fanfic on this account AND my first time writing about a K-pop idol, gulp. Hopefully, the people who see this like it... :3
God… why did you let him drag you places…
Your childhood best friend, Ohyul, convinced you to go to a party with him. You… were not the type of person to go to parties. Though it sounds very stereotypical, you were an introvert. Dealing with a bunch of drunk college kids is not what you wanted to do on a Saturday night, but Ohyul basically dragged you by the feet to this hellhole of a party.
Roughly an hour into the party, you were standing around, sipping on a cup of water. Either you were talking to Ohyul or glancing around the room, bored, when he left you to flirt with drunk college girls. What a fun night…
After standing alone for maybe 7 or so minutes, you see Ohyul emerge from a crowd of people, holding a red solo cup in his left hand.
“Yooo y/n, you wanna come smoke with me and this guy I know?”
“Ohyul, why would I want to do that. You know that I don't–”
“Oh come on, y/n. You're always so tense. This shit can level you out.” He says, cutting you off before you could finish your sentence
You open your mouth to protest further, when he grabs your wrist and pulls you off to god knows where.
After pushing through a bunch of plastered college dorks, you finally enter a room. The air was dense with smoke and reeked of skunk. The room was somewhat small, like a person's bedroom. There was a coffee table, a loveseat, and a recliner. On the wall, there was a medium-sized TV playing an episode of Attack on Titan. On the loveseat was a guy who you assumed was the guy Ohyul mentioned.
Ohyul finally lets go of your wrist and sits in the recliner. Since it was the only other seat other than the floor, you sit on the other end of the loveseat. The guy, who was now beside you, glances up at you, then at Ohyul, then back at you.
“Who are you?” He said.
“This is my friend, y/n. She’s never smoked before, so I wanted to introduce her to weed.” Ohyul said.
The guy nodded slightly, looking you over one more time. “I’m Ryul.”He said as if he didn't have a care in the world.
You give a small, tense smile before glancing at Ohyul.
“So… you said it levels you out…?” you say, a skeptical tone obvious in your voice.
“Yeah. I mean, it can level you out. It has different effects on everybody. It makes some people more open, and some it makes them super paranoid.” Ohyul replied, shrugging his shoulders as if he wasn't making you feel worse.
“Yeah, like that's going to convince me to smoke with you.” You mutter.
Ohyul chuckled before digging in his pocket and pulling out a joint and a lighter. He lit up the joint and took a hit. He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before blowing out a large cloud of smoke, adding more smoke to the already polluted air in that room. He then hands the joint ot Ryul, who does the same thing. He then holds out the joint to you.
“Go on, take a hit,” Ryul said, a smirk creeping onto his face.
You took the joint from him, your fingers brushing ever-so-slightly. You look down at the joint. Why were herbs wrapped in paper so intimidating…?
“Y/n, it's fine. It's not gonna kill you.” Ohyul says, trying to ease your nerves, but it wasn't working too well.
“You know what, I can't do this.” You mutter out before handing the joint back to Ryul.
“Aw, come on, it's not even dangerous. It literally comes from the ground.” Ryul said in a faux sad tone, his smirk widening even more. “But hey, if you ever change your mind, call me.” He pulls out a paper and grabs a pen from the coffee table. He wrote what you assumed to be his number before wedging it in the front pocket of your jeans.
“I'm gonna just Uber home.. Bye.” You mutter, mainly to Ohyul, before standing up and walking out of the room.
8 days had passed since that party. Each of those 8 days, you held that paper he gave you, reading over his phone number and debating whether to text him. The idea of smoking sounded cool, but you were just a bit… chicken.
Finally, you gathered the courage to shoot him a text. You type his phone number into your phone and send a text.
“Hey”
You hit send and felt a pang in your chest. A mix of regret, fear, and anticipation coursed through you. After what felt like a lifetime, yet was probably about 3 minutes, you got a reply.
“whos this??”
That… wasn't a great start.
“Y/n. Ohyul’s friend.” You reply. If he didn't remember you after this, you were definitely going to have to block him.
“ohhhhhh I remember u. what u wanna smoke now?”
“I think yeah.
“cool. send me your addy ill come by,” He responded.
You had to reread that message roughly 4 times before being able to even think of a response. Your mind was just not able to process the fact that he's asking for your address. You only met once. You didn't even say a word to him!
You eventually managed totype out your address and text it to him. You waited for a response… but never got one. Then, you heard a knock on your door.
Great. He’s here. The plug whose name you barely remember is at your apartment to smoke marijuana with you. And to think you were ever called a good kid.
You walk over and open the door. You've met with him. Ryul was wearing a white beanie, a plain white tank top with a baggy black zip-up, with some baggy blue jeans that were basically showing his ass because of how much he was sagging.
“Hey…” You mutter awkwardly before opening your door more to let him in.
He doesn't respond; he just gives you a once-over and smirks. A smirk that didn't necessarily make you uncomfortable, but definitely sent a shiver down your spine.
He walks in and makes himself at home. He walks over to your small sofa and sits down on it before digging in his pockets. He pulls out a small glass pipe and a small bag of weed.
You walk over and sit beside him, being sure to keep enough space between you two. He leans back on the couch and glances over at you.
“So, how much am I going to owe you?” you finally say, breaking the silence between you two.
“Don't worry. It's on the house.” He says casually.
“Oh, okay.” You say.
The room fell into another tense silence, though it was mainly tense because he couldn't seem to get his eyes off of you or drop that smirk.
“So, you ready?” He finally says. You nod.
His smirk widens. He opens the small bag in his hands and puts some of the broken-up weed into the bowl of the pipe. He pulled out a lighter and helped with the pipe.
“Oh, I'm going first..?” You said, glancing at him nervously.
“Well, yeah, you're the one who's never done this before.” He replied.
You take the pipe and pause. It seemed obvious what to do from here, but you were second-guessing yourself. For some reason, Ryul made you nervous. You couldn't bear the idea of embarrassing yourself in front of him.
“Here, I'll light it up for you. Just put your lips there and suck the smoke in.” He said casually, as if it was the most normal and easy thing in the whole world.
You nod and watch as he lights the bowl. You suck in the smoke and nearly choke instantly. You blow out the smoke and start coughing before you can take another breath in.
As you cough up a lung, you feel his hand move to your back.
“Hey, just try to take in some deep breaths.” He said, but without his typical confident tone.
After roughly 30 seconds, you manage to catch your breath and stop coughing. You glance over at him, noticing not only how his hand is still gently resting on your back, but how good he looks. The look of almost concern in his eyes really did a number on you.
“You good now?” He said, looking at you.
You nod. “I don't know if I feel anything, though. Does it take long?”
He laughs. A genuine laugh. “It won't take long. Give it another minute or so, baby”
His response made your heart drop. You tried to brush it off, but you knew he could sense your nervous energy by the way his smirk snuck back on his face.
Silence fell over both of you until suddenly you felt it.
Time felt like it had slowed down. Everything seemed almost fuzzy, like you were in a dream. It felt like there wasn't a problem in the world. You glance back over at Ryul to see him smiling at you.
“You feelin’ it?”
“Yeah..definitely.” You said, still trying to comprehend just what was going on around you.
“How's it feel?”
“Amazing… I think…” You muttered, which made him laugh
The weed seemed to make you more open. More talkative. You and Ryul talk for what feels like hours, just laughing and talking about random bullshit.
You felt relaxed, confident, like nothing could bother you, as if you and Ryul were in an unburstable bubble. You told me about yourself. The little things. The bigger things. Things you wouldn't even tell Ohyul, which was saying a lot, since you told him everything.
He seemed to listen, like actually listen. He would add input, but mostly led you to ramble on. That was until he added a question into the mix.
“Hey, can I ask you something real quick?” He said, casually looking at you as you both leaned against the back of the couch.
“Yeah, of course. What's up?”
“Well, if you haven't even smoked weed till now, does that mean you haven't really done anything else?
“Well, what do you mean by ‘anything else’?” You replied, curious.
“You know, like drinking, partying, sex. That shit.”
You pause. While the weed was definitely making you more open, this was a bit of a sensitive topic.
“Well, I mean… no.” You mutter
“Really? Nothing?” He said, with genuine disbelief in his tone.
“Nope. nothing at all.”
“That's crazy. I don't know how you live like that.” He replied, glancing up at the ceiling.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I just can't imagine somebody not having any sexual interactions.”
“Maybe it's just because I'm inexperienced, but I don't even really see the appeal in sex.” You said with a small shoulder shrug.
Silence. He glances over at you. “ Yeah, that's the inexperience talking. If you had sex, that thought wouldn't ever cross your mind again.” He said with a small laugh, almost like he was flabbergasted by what you just said
Suddenly, a wave of awkwardness crashes over you two. Your eyes lock for seconds that feel like hours, until you break eye contact. He smirks.
“What was that?” He said.
“What do you mean?? You reply a bit too fast.
“That look. You just looked me up and down.”
“What? No, I didn't.”
“Oh, you most definitely did, sweetheart. Don't even try to play it off. Don't tell me you're considering me as an option in your little ‘lack of sex’ sexual fantasy.” He said, leaning closer.
“Ryul I'm not.” You mutter, but you couldn't even make eye contact with him.”
“I hope you know I'm not stupid. I know you're lying. You don't have to lie. Just admit it. Maybe I can help.” He said, a smirk spreading on his face.
The sight of his smirk made your stomach twist. God, were you that obvious?
“Well, even if I was, what would you do about it..?” You mutter.
Oh, the look in his eyes when you said that spoke more words than his mouth ever could. He scooted closer, so close your thighs weren't just touching, but full on pressed together.
“What would I do?” He started, looking you up and down. “I can't tell you, but I can show you.”
The air in the room was charged, like it knew shit was about to go down. The fiery look in his eyes, the way his gaze would occasionally fall to your lips, it was all making you melt.
“So show me.”
That's all you had to say. Within a second, he moved and crashed his lips against yours in a heated kiss. His arms snaked around you, one going to the small of your back, the other to the back of your neck. You instinctively move your arms around his neck.
As the two of you kiss, you feel his hand on the small of your back shift down to grab your ass. His tongue makes its way past your lips and into your mouth. He lets out a soft groan as the kiss grows more heated, his hand squeezing your ass once again.
He then breaks the kiss, only to start trailing kisses down your jawline and neck. You subconsciously tilt your head up, allowing him more space. His tongue trails down your neck all the way down to your collarbone. He then looks up at you and talks.
“Take off your shirt and lie back.” He said in a dead serious tone that could've seriously sent your underwear flying off of you.
You immediately listen, pulling your shirt off over your head and lying back on the couch. He grins and moves so he's on top of you. He continues his trail of hot, wet kisses down your body. You feel his hand trail up from your ass to your waistband, where he begins to unbutton your jeans and slide them off.
“Lift your hips for me, yeah?” He said, and you complied instantly. He yanks down your pants, leaving them on the floor. He glances down and notices just how sopping wet your panties were. He grins at the sight. He uses two fingers to slide them off of you, tossing the panties over his shoulder, and on ot the floor. His hand swipes between your folds, slowly tracing up before making a small circle on your sensitive nub. “Feels good, hmm? And to think you thought sex wasn't appealing.” He teased, tilting his head.
You felt his fingers slowly move down to your cunt and nod, already feeling your eyes threatening to roll back in your skull. Ryul sees this and practically melts.
“Fuck you’re so cute.” He lowers his body down, kissing down your chest until his body rests between your already spread legs, his face now eye level with your cunt.
His lips wrap around your clit, slowly circling his tongue around it. He places a couple of open-mouthed kisses, making your whole body tremble. A single finger slowly tracing the opening of your pussy, tracing the edge so lightly it could've made you moan then and there.
Your back arches ever-so-slightly, yearning for Ryul to pick up the pace. He grinned and proceeded on his slow, teasing pace.
He began to pick up the pace, his finger beginning to pump in and out of your cunt slowly, but reaching deep as his tongue slurped down on your clit.
Your hand manages to find his hair, gripping the root and tugging. He lets out a slight hiss before continuing his assault on your cunt. He suddenly picks up the pace, making you break. His tongue rapidly moving against your pussy, and a second finger slipping in your whole. Your back arches, and the sudden change in pace causes you to spill right onto his face.
“Holy shit–” You moan out, unable to hold back any further noises. You cum hard, vision nearly going hazy as your legs buckle and close. Ryul’s hand grips your thigh, forcing your legs back open as he continues to eat your cunt.. His tongue moves even faster, so fast you have to grip both his hair and the edge of the couch. His two fingers are pounding deeper within you as every second passes. His fingers begin to curl, hitting your G-spot, overstimulating you.
“Ryul, I can't–” You manage to spit out between heavy pants.
His mouth pulls off of you, the bottom of his face covered in your mess.
“How was that for a first time?” he said, his smirk widening as he wiped his face with his hoodie sleeve.
You finally come down from the high of the orgasm and look at him, in both shock and awe. He laughs.
He stands up and walks off before coming back with a paper towel. He once again pushes your legs apart, but this time he wipes you clean. When finished, he tosses the disposable rag on the small coffee table before pulling your hand to get you to sit up.
“You good?” He then says, as if he were genuinely asking.
You nod, glancing at him. “Yeah. I'm good. Better than good, actually…”
He let out a chuckle at that. His arm moves around your shoulders, and he pulls you against him.
“I'm glad I could give you a first time. That is for weed and getting eaten out.”
“Me too.” You mutter.
“If you ever want to do this again, you got my number, okay?”
You nod, feeling nothing but bliss from not just the marijuana, but the thought of Ryul being willing for another day like this.
bestfriend!Ohyul x female!Reader x bestfriend!Ryul 🔞 (minor DNI)
The living room was an absolute mess of empty popcorn bowls, half eaten pizza boxes, and crumpled soda cans.
You, Ryul, and Ohyul had been sprawled across the floor and couch for the last four hours, marathoning terrible horror movies and roasting the acting. It was your typical Friday night, just three best friends completely at ease with each other.
But by the time the credits rolled on the third movie, the energy in the room completely tanked.
"Ugh, I'm dying of boredom." Ryul groaned, tossing a stray popcorn kernel at the TV.
"If I have to look at another screen, my brain is going to liquefy."
You shifted on your spot on the carpet, leaning your back against the sofa where Ohyul was sitting.
"Why don't we play something?"
You suggested, a sudden spark of energy hitting you.
"Like... Truth or Dare? Old school."
Ohyul looked down at you, a amused smile playing on his lips as he took a sip of his drink.
"Truth or Dare? What are we, twelve?"
"Hey, don't knock the classics." Ryul chimed in, suddenly sitting up straight with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"I'm down. You scared, Ohyul?"
"Never." Ohyul chuckled, setting his glass down. "Fine. Let's do it."
The game started off innocent enough. Ryul was forced to eat a slice of pizza with a ridiculous amount of hot sauce, and you had to confess the most embarrassing thing you'd ever bought online. Ohyul took a few truths, answering them with his usual unshakeable confidence. It was fun and loud.
Until the bottle spun and landed dead center on Ohyul again.
"Alright, big guy." Ryul grinned, rubbing his hands together like a villain.
"Truth or dare?"
Ohyul leaned back the sofa, entirely unbothered.
"Dare."
Ryul’s eyes darted between you and Ohyul. Ryul was the only person in the world who knew about the massive, agonizing crush you had been harboring for Ohyul for the past two years. You caught look on Ryul's face a second too late.
"I dare you..." Ryul said, his voice dropping into a purely chaotic tone. "to dry hump y/n for a full minute."
Your stomach violently dropped. Your face flushed a deep blush.
"Ryul! No way! Change it. What the fuck??" you blurted out immediately, your heart hammering against your ribs.
You frantically looked at Ohyul, terrified of seeing disgust or awkwardness on his face. The last thing you wanted was to force him into something sexual with you, especially when he didn't know your true feelings.
"Ohyul you don't have to do that. Ryul is being an idiot. Seriously, just take a penalty or something. I extremely decline."
"Oh, come on, don't be a buzzkill." Ryul laughed.
"A dare is a dare!"
"No Ryul, shut the fuck up. I'm not making him uncomfortable."
You snapped, your anxiety spiking. You kept your eyes averted from Ohyul, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
"Hey."
Ohyul’s deep voice cut through the bickering. You finally risked a glance up at him. He wasn't grimacing. In fact, his dark eyes were intensely focused on you, and that lazy smile was entirely gone, replaced by a unreadable expression.
"Who said I was uncomfortable?" Ohyul murmured.
Before you could even process the words, Ohyul slid off the couch. He moved with a quiet movement that made your breath hitch. He caught your ankles, pulling you flat onto the carpet in one smooth motion, and crawled right over you.
"O-Ohyul—" you gasped, your hands instinctively coming up to rest against his broad chest.
He didn't hesitate. Ohyul settled his heavy weight directly between your thighs. The sheer size of him completely pinned you down. He leaned down, his face inches from yours, his hot breath fanning over your burning cheeks. Then, he locked his hips flush against yours.
Even through his jeans and your shorts, you could feel the thick ridge of his hard cock pressing heavily against your pussy.
"Ryul, start the timer." Ohyul commanded, still keeping the eye contact. His voice dropping thick with a sudden, dark heat.
Ohyul didn't wait. He gripped your waist firmly, his large hands digging into your hips, and began to grind. He rolled his pelvis against yours in a slow, deliberate circle. The friction was instant and overwhelming. A soft, involuntary whimper caught in your throat, your fingers tightening into the fabric of his shirt.
He knew exactly what he was doing. With every slow, rolling push of his hips, he pressed his hardness right against your aching center. He leaned down lower, his lips brushing and biting against your earlobe.
"Relax baby" he whispered, a low groan vibrating in his chest as he rolled his hips harder against you, making your legs instinctively wrap slightly tighter around his waist. "Just a game, right?"
You couldn't even answer. Your mind was completely short circuiting from the intense heat pooling deep in your stomach, completely helpless under the ruthless rhythm of his body moving over yours.
Ohyul didn't wait for Ryul to even find a timer. The moment his hips locked against yours, any semblance of a joke completely vanished from his expression. His dark eyes burned with an intense, raw hunger that made your breath trap in your throat. He had been waiting for an excuse like this for an agonizingly long time, and he wasn't going to waste a single second of it.
"W-wait—" your voice shook, but the word was instantly cut off.
He slammed his hips forward with desperate force, burying his hardness deep into you through the layers of your clothes. A gasp tore from your lips. Ohyul groaned heavily, a sound of unadulterated relief, as if he had been starving and you were finally right in front of him.
"God you have no idea, baby" he growled, his voice thick and rough as he completely abandoned the slow pace.
He pinned your wrists aggressively above your head, his large hand locking them to the carpet, while his other hand dug ruthlessly into your hip. He began to grind against yours in fast, heavy circles. The hard length of his erect cock rolled hard over your pussy lips, crushing against your swollen clit with every desperate push of his weight.
You completely lost your mind. The sheer eagerness in his movements, the frantic heat radiating off his body, and the realization that he wanted this just as badly as you did sent a shockwave of pure electricity straight to your core. Your hips instinctively tilted up to meet his, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist to lock him flush against you.
"Ohyul—" you whimpered, your head tossing back against the floor.
"fuck, you're so hot" he panted, his breath ragged and wild against your neck.
He didn't care that Ryul was in the room, he didn't care about anything but the intense friction of your bodies rubbing together. He accelerated the pace, his thrusts becoming faster, harder, and completely relentless, his heavy denim grinding mercilessly against your soaking wet shorts.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips biting and sucking at your sensitive skin while his hips slammed into yours with a desperate rhythm. He was panting like an animal, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back from tearing your clothes off right then and there.
Every rolling slam of his crotch against yours was fueled by months of repressed desire, and the wet heat building between your thighs was driving him completely over the edge.
"I've been dreaming about this every single night"
Ohyul confessed in a breathless, undone rasp, his hips grinding fiercely against you one last time as a tight, violent wave of pleasure started to ripple through your lower body.
The sixty seconds Ryul had joked about had long since bled into complete reality. Ohyul didn't care about the timer. He didn't care about anything but the agonizingly perfect fit of your body beneath his.
His hand released your wrists, but you didn't pull away. Instead, your arms immediately flew around his neck, your fingers clawing desperately into his hair, pulling him down into you. Ohyul let out a desperate sound against your mouth, finally dropping his lips onto yours in a messy and bruising kiss.
His tongue invaded your mouth with the exact same frantic energy as his hips, his teeth scraping against yours as his crotch relentlessly move fast against your aching pussy. Completely soaked through with the wetness pooling between your thighs.
"Ohyul... please... I need you inside me." you sobbed into his mouth, completely unbothered by Ryul’s stunned silence somewhere across the room. You were completely undone, your internal muscles spasming violently from the sheer intensity of the dry humping.
"Ryul get the fuck out." Ohyul growled, never slowing his brutal pace for a single second. His voice was raw and completely animalistic as his pelvis slammed hard into yours, crushing your clit under his massive weight.
You heard the panicked, hurried scramble of footsteps and the front door slamming shut, but your mind was already entirely gone.
The moment the lock clicked, Ohyul reached down with a trembling urgency. He tore at the button of your shorts, ripping them down past your hips along with your panties, exposing your soaking swollen pussy to the cool air for only a fraction of a second. In the same breath, he shoved his own pants down, his seven inci hard penis springing free, fully engorged and dripping with precum.
He didn't give you a moment to adjust. He gripped both of your thighs, shoving them wide apart, and with one agonizingly deep thrust, he buried his entire length into your tight warmth.
A piercing scream of pure pleasure tore from your throat as you were stretched completely open. Ohyul’s head rolled back, a guttural, undone groan tearing from his chest as your tight walls immediately clamped down around his thick shaft like a vice.
"Ah, fuck! You're so tight—so wet." he gasped, his eyes wild and bloodshot as he looked down at you.
He didn't waste another second. He began to pound into you with relentless pace. The sound of his pelvis slapping violently against your bare ass echoed loudly through the empty apartment. Every single thrust was deep and desperate, driven by years of pent up craving. He was hitting your cervix with every slam, his large hands digging into your hips so hard they were going to leave bruises.
You completely broke. Your legs locked around his back, your toes curling as a violent, shattering orgasm tore through your body, your pussy pulsing and squeezing his cock in intense, rhythmic waves.
The crushing tightness of your climax pushed Ohyul completely past his breaking point. He let out a loud whine, driving his hips forward three more times with speed before burying himself as deep as he could possibly go. His entire body locked up, muscles straining and trembling as he shot a hot load of semen thick and deep into your climaxing walls.
The heavy silence in the apartment didn't last long. Just as your breathing began to slow, a sudden, sharp knock rattled the front door.
"My turn next." Ryul’s muffled voice called out from the hallway, laced with an eager, strained impatience.
You froze, your naked body still trembling and coated in Ohyul's heat. You looked up at Ohyul, expecting him to be furious, but the lazy, dominant smirk returned to his lips.
His dark eyes flashed with a sudden, wicked idea. He loved showing you off, and knowing Ryul had been listening had only fueled his possessive streak.
Ohyul stood up, entirely unbothered by his nakedness, and walked over to unlock the door.
The moment the door swung open, Ryul practically stumbled inside. His eyes went wide, instantly locking onto your flushed, exposed body sprawled on the floor, your thighs still slick and dripping with Ohyul's thick semen. Ryul swallowed hard, his own trousers visibly tented from how hard he was.
"Step inside." Ohyul commanded, his deep voice leaving no room for argument. He pointed a finger downward, establishing the rules immediately.
"You want a taste? Fine. But you only lick her pussy. Nothing else. You don't touch her anywhere else and you don't get to slide inside. She's mine."
Ryul didn't hesitate for a single fraction of a second. He dropped straight to his knees, crawling frantically between your wide spread legs. The sheer sight of him kneeling there, completely desperate for your scraps, sent a fresh jolt of heat straight to your core.
Ryul buried his face directly into your soaking wet folds. His tongue lashed out, hot and ravenous, lapping up the mixture of your arousal and Ohyul’s warm cream.
He groaned against your skin, his tongue swirling ruthlessly over your cum clit. You let out a loud piercing gasp, your hips instinctively twitching upward as the wet friction threatened to push you right back over the edge.
Ohyul stood right over the two of you, watching with a satisfied expression, his large hand resting heavily on his own hip.
Overwhelmed by the taste of you, Ryul completely lost his head. He wanted more. He began to crawl up your body, his hands planted on the carpet on either side of your shoulders as he leaned down, aiming straight for your swollen, breathless lips to steal a kiss.
Before their lips could even brush, Ohyul’s hand shot forward like lightning.
He fisted his fingers aggressively into the back of Ryul’s hair, violently wrenching his head backward. Ryul’s neck arched back painfully, his face pulled completely away from yours.
A sharp, choked moan tore from Ryul’s throat at the sudden, rough restriction.
"I told you." Ohyul growled down at him, his grip tightening ruthlessly in Ryul's hair, forcing him to look up into his dominant glare.
"Her mouth belongs to me. Get back down between her legs and do what you were permitted to do."
Ryul panted, a dark flush covering his own face as he nodded frantically under Ohyul’s grip, completely submissive to the older man's rules.
The moment Ohyul released his hair, Ryul dropped straight back down between your thighs, burying his face into your pussy with even more frantic, desperate hunger than before.
Ryul didn't need to be told twice. Driven by the sharp reprimand and the intoxicating taste of you, his tongue became absolutely relentless. He buried his face deeper into your soaking wet warmth, his nose pressing hard against your sensitive skin as his tongue lashed back and forth over your swollen, pulsing clit.
He lapped at you with a rhythmic hunger, drinking in the slick mixture of your juices and Ohyul’s cooling semen. Every stroke of his tongue was heavy and wet, sending localized shocks of pure electricity straight to your brain.
"Ah... Ryul, please—" you cried out, your fingers clawing at the carpet, your hips bucking up against his face.
Ohyul stood right above you, watching the entire spectacle with a dark gaze. He reached down, his large hand wrapping around the back of your neck, his thumb lightly pressing against your throat to ground you through the overwhelming pleasure.
"Look at him princess." Ohyul commanded, his deep voice vibrating in the room. "Look at how desperate he is to taste my mess inside you."
You opened your eyes, your vision blurred with tears of pure arousal. You looked down at Ryul, whose face was completely smeared with your wetness. The taboo sight of your best friend devouring you under the gaze of your crush wound the tension in your stomach to a tight, unbearable knot.
Ryul increased the speed, his tongue swirling ruthlessly around your clit while his fingers subtly reached up to grip your thighs, keeping you locked in place. The stimulation was too much. Your internal muscles contracted, tightening in sudden, sharp waves.
"Ohyul! I'm coming again—fuck" you screamed, your head tossing back against the floor.
Your pussy clamped down, shuddering second orgasm. Ryul didn't stop, he sucked your clit deep into his mouth right as you peaked, lapping frantically to catch every drop of your cum.
The sight and sound of you breaking for the second time completely pushed Ryul over the edge. He was still entirely restricted by Ohyul’s rules, he couldn't touch you with his hands, and he couldn't take his clothes off. The sheer desperation of it made him lose his mind.
Ryul began to aggressively hump himself against the hard floor and his own tight clothes. The length of his erect cock was trapped behind his heavy denim, and he ground his crotch into his pants with a frantic, breathless urgency.
"Ah... fuck, Ohyul... she's so tight." Ryul groaned, imagining his cock inside you. His voice completely undone, cracking with the strain. He kept his face buried against your inner thigh, inhaling your scent as his hips jerked forward in fast, desperate thrusts against his own zipper.
The friction of his underwear and denim rubbing mercilessly against his tip was overwhelming. He panted like an animal, his shoulders shaking as he ground his pelvis in brutal circles, trying to find release through the agonizing barrier of his clothes.
"Go on," Ohyul growled down at him, his voice rough with amusement and dominance. "Cum for her Ryul. Ruin your clothes like the desperate dog you are."
That was the final trigger. With a loud cry, Ryul’s body went completely rigid. His hips slammed violently forward against his pants one last time as his orgasm hit him like a train.
He let out a long desperate moan, his eyes rolling back as a thick load of semen shot repeatedly inside his underwear, completely soaking through his boxers and staining the inside of his pants with a trapped wetness.
He collapsed forward, his forehead resting against your thigh, chest heaving in absolute exhaustion as the heavy, hot mess pooled inside his clothes.
The silence returned to the room, broken only by the sound of three ragged, overlapping breath patterns. Ryul lay completely spent between your legs, his forehead pressed against your inner thigh as the hot mess of his release began to cool inside his ruined jeans.
Ohyul looked down at the two of you, a deeply satisfied smile spreading across his face. The absolute dominance of the situation, having his best friend completely submissive at his feet, and you thoroughly used and trembling from multiple orgasms had his heart hammering a victorious rhythm against his ribs.
He stepped forward, his bare foot nudging Ryul’s shoulder.
"Alright. Time's up. Get out of here puppy" he commanded smoothly.
Ryul let out a low groan, slowly lifting his head. His lips were still shiny with your wetness and his face was bluch red.
He looked up at Ohyul, then down at you, a dazed, completely ruined expression in his eyes. He dragged himself backward, crawling out from between your thighs, the heavy dampness in the front of his pants making him move awkwardly.
He didn't even try to fix his clothes, he just slumped against the base of the sofa, trying to catch his breath.
Ohyul turned his full attention back to you. He knelt beside your trembling body, his warm hands sliding under your lower back and thighs. With one effortless lift, he scooped your naked body up into his arms, pulling you flush against his chest.
"Ohyul..." you whimpered, your head falling heavily onto his shoulder, your muscles completely like jelly.
"I've got you baby" he murmured, his deep voice incredibly soft now, a sharp contrast to the brutal dominance from moments before. He carried you away from the mess in the living room, completely ignoring Ryul and walked into his bedroom.
He laid you gently in the center of his king sized bed, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your overheated, sweat skin. Ohyul didn't immediately leave. He slid onto the mattress beside you, pulling the heavy comforter up to your shoulders to shield you from the draft, before wrapping his massive arm around your waist and pulling your back tightly against his chest.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply. "You were perfect and you did a good job, I'm proud of you so much"
He whispered, his lips brushing your skin as his fingers began to trace soothing circles over your stomach, grounding you completely as the final waves of adrenaline began to fade.
Ohyul reached over to the nightstand and pulled a few thick tissues from the box. Gently, he wiped away the remaining traces of wetness from your inner thighs, his touch careful and entirely focused on making you comfortable.
He tossed the tissues into the trash, then pulled the heavy duvet over your shoulders, tucking you in safely before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
"Just rest, princess." he murmured, his deep voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
Before you could fully drift off, the bedroom door creaked open. Ryul stood in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot. All the desperate energy from earlier was completely gone, replaced by a wide eyed look.
He looked like an innocent boy who hadn't just ruined his own pants in the living room moments before.
"Um... Guys?" Ryul mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, his voice quiet.
"Can I sleep in here with you guys tonight? The couch is kind of cold."
You blinked sleepily from the pillows, looking up at Ohyul to see his reaction.
Ohyul let out a amused huff, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked at his best friend. He could never stay genuinely harsh with Ryul for long after the dominance had been established.
"You can stay." Ohyul said, his tone authoritative but relaxed. "But you're not bringing that mess into my bed. Go change your clothes first."
Ryul’s face lit up with an instant, grateful grin. "Right! Changing right now!" he chirped, turning on his heel and hurrying down the hall to grab a pair of clean sweatpants from the guest room.
A few minutes later, the mattress dipped as a freshly changed, clean scented Ryul carefully slid under the duvet on your other side.
The contrast was almost funny and adorable. He settled in with the quiet innocence of a child, curling up close to you but keeping his hands respectfully to himself.
Ohyul wrapped his large arm securely around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his chest, while Ryul rested his head near your shoulder. Tangled securely between the two of them, the intense heat of the night finally melted into a peaceful sleep.
— All of these are @ryulcom works, please do not copy, translate or even repost to other platforms. Thank you.
