⟡ summary: just a lonely night were chanyeol couldn't stop thinking about you.
⟡ content: chanyeol pov, +18 content, mdni, filthy thoughts, slight sexting, masturbation (m. solo), overstimulation, chanyeol x f!reader | word count: 1k words
⟡ a/note: shoutout to the anonie who requested this, bc i never would've thought of it myself !!
Those days when you had to fly away from home because of work meant lonely nights for Chanyeol. He tried to do everything he could to feel better—watching a movie, reading, trying to sleep, and… jerking off. Of course, it wasn’t the same as having you bouncing on his dick or sucking him off.
He sighed, incapable of reaching his own orgasm. It was like his brain didn’t let him cum, knowing perfectly you weren’t there.
Frustrated, Chanyeol took a long, cold shower. When he returned to his room, he saw his phone still charging on the nightstand. He picked it up, walked into the living room, intending to whip up a quick meal and hoping to send you a goodnight message, but you’d beaten him to it.
sleeping? u didn’t pick up!
imysm, yeolie
u miss me?
gonna send you smth real quick ;)
[video]
night, night
ily <3
Chanyeol almost dropped his phone when he opened the attached video, and fuck. You knew exactly how to ruin him. He collapsed onto the sofa, legs spreading wide as he stared at the loop of you in that scrap of lace, praying that nobody saw you in that small lingerie.
Chanyeol felt like an animal—like a pervert. His eyes were devouring the way the fabric bit into your snake, modeling just for him, promising to be his personal plaything the second you stepped back through the door.
Huddled in the dark with only the phone light illuminating his face, he hit replay again, his thumb trembling against the screen. The frustration from earlier had curdled into a demanding ache that needed to be ripped out of him.
Chanyeol didn’t bother being gentle. He shoved his sweatpants and boxers down past his hips with a frantic haste, his cock springing free, already weeping, hard enough. His hand clamped around his length, his grip tight and punishing as he stared at the curves of your breasts on the screen. He wanted to reach through the glass, to bury his face between your boobs and hear you moan his name.
The movements of his fist became wet and rhythmic, a steady, desperate friction that mirrored the torturous pace he imagined you’d use while riding his dick. Chanyeol watched the video loop, focusing on the way your hips moved, and his own followed suit, bucking upward into the empty air.
“God, fuck—”
He began to stroke himself with a brutal white-knuckled intensity, his thumb occasionally rubbing over the sensitive head of his dick to spike the sensation. Chanyeol was losing it; the fantasy of your weight on top of him was so vivid he could almost feel the heat of your pussy clenching around him. He licked his lips, imagining the taste of you, his eyes fixed on the video as he increased the speed.
Chanyeol was over the edge, his left hand squeezing the phone so hard the casing groaned, and his body taut and straining. He was spiraling, replaying the video, his eyes blown wide and glazed as he mapped the curve of your ass against the silk, his brain translating the phantom weight of your flesh in his palms. Chanyeol was losing his goddamn mind. A moan built in his throat, deep, guttural. He had to bite his lip to keep himself silent.
He wanted to stay, to keep watching you model that lace for him, but his body wasn’t cooperating. His hand was a vice, his fingers cramped, his knuckles white as he pumped himself with a messy rhythm. Every time he tried to slow down to prolong the ache, the sight of you turning for the camera sent a fresh jolt of electricity straight to his cock.
His thighs began to tremble violently, the muscles seizing as his body reached its limit. His head was spinning, his vision tunneling until there was nothing but you and the wet, slapping sound of his hand against his length. He tried to hold back, to wait just one more second, but the sight of your smile on the screen snapped the last of his restraint.
“Fuck—please—”
Chanyeol broke. His body went rigid, back arching off the sofa as a violent spasm racked his frame. He lost all control, his hand working in a blind, desperate blur, while his breath came in ragged, broken hitches. The release was a total, filthy ruin. Hot seed erupted, thick and frantic, coating his fingers, pooling in the dip of his lower abdomen, and splattering across his shirt and the dark fabric of the sofa.
He stayed like that for a long minute—completely undone, his muscles still twitching with aftershocks, his body still buzzing, every hair on his arms standing up. He was a wreck. His thighs continued to tremble, and his cock was so raw and sensitive that even the slight graze of his own hand felt like a fresh jolt of electricity.
He thought that, without a doubt, it was the messiest, most desperate release he gave to himself, all thanks to you. He felt completely ruined, his muscles feeling like they had turned to water. He wanted to thank you, to tell how hard he came, but he only found the strength to hold back his phone again when the device buzzed, the vibration against his palm making him flinch.
still no reply? lol
having too much fun with that vid, huh?
don’t wear yourself out too much...
where’s my reward? >:(
An exhausted, breathless chuckle broke from his lips, sounding half-delirious in the quiet of the living room. You had called it perfectly. He leaned his head back against the sofa, closing his eyes for a second as he tried to find the strength in his cramped fingers to type. He looked at the disaster on the sofa and his own trembling hands, then finally tapped out a reply with his shaky thumbs.
u r a menace…
u win, i’m a mess rn
i’m literally covered in cum…
shit srly
wanna see? ;)
When he saw the three little dots moving on the corner of the message app, he smirked, knowing exactly what he needed to do. He opened the camera, framed his lower body, and captured the exact mess he made.
[photo]
night, night ;)
hurry up and come back soon
imysm
and ily <3
✧˚ ⋆｡˚ exo x madeinmyeon month masterlist | main masterlist Ი︵𐑼
summary hiding in the bathroom until sehun falls asleep seemed like a foolproof plan to save yourself from your honeymoon night but he is patient, awake, and waiting to show how he can't enough of his wife.
pairing husband!sehun x virgin wife! reader
warning mdni, smut, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, mentions of blood
wc 4k of pure smut
a/n requested! this was kind of late haha i kept procastinating this sorry,i need just one word to describe sehun #daddy
playlist i got love by taeyeon, underwater by red velvet, love beyond by haechan, trampoline by red velvet—irene&seulgi, nobody knows by kiss of life.
heading back to the penthouse your husband had rented for the honeymoon, you sat quietly beside sehun in the car. his hand rested gently over your thigh, while the city lights blurred past the windows. your heart pounded against your ribs, anticipation making you unusually nervous. it was obvious what turn things were going to take when you reach at home.
you glanced at him, sehun noticed your nervous expression and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "you okay?" you nodded, taking a quiet breath. "...yeah" He didn’t look back at you, but his thumb moved on your thigh.
it started slow. a deliberate, dragging friction against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth, a maddeningly lazy rhythm sending tiny sparks of electricity racing up your spine.
you swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, but you turned your head to face him. you gave him a soft smile, a tentative offering of submission that he accepted with a slight, with a subtle curl of his lips. his eyes remained on the road, but the pressure of his hand increased, just enough to let you know he was acutely aware of the effect he had on you.
the car slowed to a gentle halt as sehun pulled up to the private entrance of the high-rise. he opened your door himself, extending a hand to help you out. you took it, your fingers sliding against his, and he pulled you up with a force that brought you crashing against his chest for a fleeting second before he steadied you, a grin playing on his lips.
he was suspiciously clingy as you walked toward the elevators. usually, he maintained a respectful distance in public, a cool aloofness that he dropped only in private. tonight, that mask was gone. his arm stayed wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his side as you walked.
he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear, "you're so gorgeous, y'know that?" you just laughed it off.
of course he was possessive of you before you even got married, but this was different; this was a raw, unfiltered need that didn't care about an audience.
the elevator ride was a blur of mirrored walls and rising numbers. he crowded you against the back panel, his hands roaming freely over your hips, "hun, stop it—" his gaze dark and fixed on your mouth. "why?" a chuckle escaped his mouth, "are you shy?" his tone was sardonic.
when the doors finally chimed open, revealing the expanse of the penthouse, he didn't let you walk. he guided you with a firm grip on your waist past the floor-to-ceiling windows and the untouched champagne on ice.
the moment the front door clicked shut, sealing out the rest of the world, his resistant broke. sehun didn't wait for the bedroom, he didn't wait for you to catch your breath. he latched onto you, his hands gripping your waist with a bruising intensity as he guided you backward.
your legs hit the edge of the plush living room couch, and momentum took over. you both fell onto the cushions, the expensive leather creaking under the combined weight of your bodies.
you landed on your back, the breath driven from your lungs in a sharp gasp, but before you could recover, he was there. his body covered yours, heavy and demanding, trapping you against the soft cushioning.
his lips found yours, not gentle, but with the desperate hunger of a man starved. it was a crushing kiss, his mouth slanting over yours, swallowing your sounds as his tongue pushed past your lips.
your tongues tangled, a wet, slick slide that tasted of mint and the lingering sweetness of the wine at dinner. you moaned into his mouth, your hands moving instinctively to his shoulders, pulling him down closer, needing to eliminate every inch of space between you.
your body was trapped between his long legs, one of his knees wedging itself firmly between your thighs, forcing them apart. the position was vulnerable, exposing, and it sent a rush of liquid heat pooling in your core.
your fingers ran through his hair, threading through the soft, dark strands and tugging gently, drawing out a groan from him. he broke the kiss only to trail his lips down your jaw, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck in sharp, teasing nips that made you arch your back.
you pressed your palms flat against his chest, halting him before things went further. "uh, let's wash up first…?" the words came out soft, almost seeking permission rather than giving direction. sehun blinked once, then twice, before nodding. "want to shower together?" his voice was low and rough, eyes heavy with lust as they locked onto yours.
your fingers traced his jaw, thumb brushing his skin. "you should go first. it'll be quicker." he exhaled sharply through his nose and stood, the thick outline of his cock straining against his pants, unmistakable and rigid. he didn't complain, just gave you a small nod and headed toward the bathroom.
the sight of him walking away with that obvious erection made guilt twist in your stomach. he knew you were a virgin. he'd always respected that boundary, never pushing past what you allowed. you'd promised him everything on your honeymoon night, but right now your nerves were winning.
you sighed and moved to the bed, sitting on the edge with your hands clenched into fists. the shower started running. minutes later, sehun stepped out with water still dripping from his hair, a towel slung low around his hips. his lean torso glistened, every line of muscle on display.
heat pooled low in your belly at the sight, but you stood quickly, eyes darting away. "i'll be quick," you mumbled, then hurried into the bathroom before he could respond. the door clicked shut behind you. your breath came fast, heart hammering against your ribs as you stared down at your feet, trying to steady yourself.
your heart hammered against your ribs as you leaned against the bathroom door, breath coming in shallow bursts. the image of sehun standing there in nothing but a towel clung to your mind—water sliding down the ridges of his chest, the way the fabric hung low on his hips, barely hiding what strained beneath. heat pulsed between your legs, but the knot of nerves in your stomach refused to loosen.
you stripped quickly, stepping under the spray. the water was warm, but it did nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. you wanted him. god, you wanted him so badly it felt like a physical ache—a ghostly reminder of a boundary you refused to cross remained in your mind.
as you washed, your fingers brushed over your sensitive skin, each touch an unintentional provocation that only reminded you of how dangerously close you’d come to giving in on the couch. lost in a haze of longing and guilt, you decided to linger.
you hoped that by the time you finally stepped out, sehun would be fast asleep, sparing you from the tension that threatened to snap. you took your time, slowly rinsing your hair and scrubbing your body, letting the minutes bleed into forty. plenty of time, you told yourself.
when you finally unlocked the door, you nudged it open just a crack, peering out to see if the room was dark and silent. your eyes darted across the space, but he wasn't where he should be. a small frown creased your forehead as you stepped out fully, a single towel wrapped tightly around your body, clinging to your damp skin.
as you turned, you realized sehun was still awake—and he had been waiting for you. he had been sitting on the edge of the bed, hidden from your initial line of sight. your blood ran cold as your eyes met.
"oh?" you muttered, the sound barely a whisper. he stood up slowly, his hair dry and his frame draped in deep silk pajamas that shimmered under the dim lights. "you took your sweet time, didn't you?"
his voice was low, vibrating with an intensity that made your knees weak. you instinctively took a step backward, your grip on the towel tightened. "i was just..."
you looked down, unable to withstand the heat of his gaze, which remained fixated on you with a hunger that told you he knew exactly why you had stayed in that shower for so long.
"if you don't want to do it, you could have just told me." he closed the distance between you in a few slow, deliberate strides. as he leaned in, his breath fanned over your damp skin, sending a violent shiver racing down your spine.
"no, it's not that..." you stammered, your eyes dropping to the floor as you scrambled for an excuse. "i just...i thought you'd be sleeping by now." your voice had grown soft, almost fragile. suddenly, you were hyper-aware of everything; the way the damp towel clung to your body , the scent of your soap, and the intensity of his gaze tracing every inch of you.
"you thought i was asleep?" a dark, knowing grin spread across his lips. "why? are you scared?" you snapped your head up, shaking it frantically. "i know i told you that i'd—"
sehun let out a sharp huff, cutting you off. his hand reached out, fingers sliding into your wet hair and gripping gently, sending fresh chills rushing through your body. the contact was electric, grounding you and unraveling you all at once.
"if you don't want to do it, let's not," he stated clearly. his voice was steady, his eyes holding a look of genuine sincerity that should have made you feel safe but the heat coiling deep in your stomach; the pulsing, desperate ache between your thighs suggested something entirely different. your body was betraying your promise, screaming for the very thing he was offering to forgo.
"no." you mustered every ounce of courage you possessed, looking directly into his eyes. "i want to do it," you whispered, your voice trembling. "but i'm scared." your eyebrows knit together, a flicker of vulnerability crossing your face. "i'm scared... what if you don't enjoy it with me? or what if i feel—"
sehun scoffed sharply, a sound of pure disbelief as if your doubt had personally offended him. "are you kidding me?"
he didn't waste another second. in one swift, decisive motion, he reached out and ripped away the only barrier remaining between you. the towel plummeted to the floor, leaving you completely exposed in the dim light. your hands flew up instinctively to conceal your bare chest, but he was already moving.
he lunged forward, his large, warm hands slamming against your damp, cooling skin. one hand clamped firmly around your waist, hauling you flush against his hard frame, while the other seized your breast, squeezing with a possessive intensity that stole the breath from your lungs.
he crashed his lips against yours. he kissed you like a starved man, his tongue demanding entry with a raw, desperate hunger. there was more need in this kiss than you had felt before—a passionate, overwhelming surge that swept away your fears and replaced them with a blinding, white-hot desire.
sehun hoisted you up in one fluid motion, and you instinctively locked your legs around his waist, clinging to him. your wet core pressed firmly against the luxurious fabric of his pajamas, the moisture quickly seeping through the silk, marking him with your own arousal. your fingers tangled deep into his soft hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with a feverish, desperate passion.
his grip on your waist was punishing, his fingers digging into your skin with a bruising intensity that only fueled the fire between you. with a low growl, he carried you the short distance to the bed and threw you back against the mattress. he was gentle enough not to hurt you, but the suddenness of the fall left you breathless and open.
he didn't waste a heartbeat before he was over you, his mouth descending on your neck. he began suckling and nibbling at the tender flesh, his teeth grazing you just enough to make you gasp. he was marking you—claiming you as his wife with a primal territoriality (naega wolf awooo saranghaeyo). vivid pink and purple bruises began to bloom across your neck and jawline, permanent stamps of his possession.
soft, broken whimpers escaped your lips, the sounds echoing in the quiet room. hearing your surrender only swelled his ego; a small, triumphant grin played on his lips as he felt you tremble beneath him.
slowly, he trailed his lips downward, his tongue tracing a wet path over your collarbone until he reached your breasts. he let out a low moan of approval, his mouth closing over one peak. he began biting and swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, teasing the sensitive tips until you were arching your back, begging for more.
while his mouth worked tirelessly on one breast, his other hand moved to knead the soft, plush flesh of the other. he squeezed and molded you, his palm hot against your skin, while he inhaled deeply. the scent of your soap mixed with the natural, musky fragrance of your aroused body, an intoxicating blend that drove him toward a breaking point.
he was focused, methodical, and utterly relentless. with a sudden, deliberate flick of his tongue, he grazed his teeth across your nipple, biting just hard enough to send a jolt of electric pleasure shooting straight to your core. you let out a sharp, strangled gasp, your hips bucking instinctively against the mattress.
he didn't stop there. sehun moved with a possessive hunger, ensuring there was no inch of your body left untouched. his hands and lips wandered everywhere—the dip of your waist, the sensitive curve of your inner thighs, the soft skin of your belly—mapping every curve and crevice as if he were memorizing you. every touch was a claim, every kiss a promise that he intended to devour every part of you until you were completely spent.
finally, he descended to the place where you needed him most, the epicenter of your desperation. his palms burned against the cool air of the room as they pressed firmly against your thighs, forcing your legs wide. he paused for a heartbeat, taking in the sight of your core; flushed, swollen, and glistening with the evidence of your arousal.
the sight of your juices leaking, dripping onto the sheets, forced a heavy, ragged sigh from his lungs. he looked completely undone, fully submitting to the hunger you stirred in him. it was as if he had reached a new level of arousal, a fever pitch that made his eyes darken with a predatory intensity.
without another word, he latched onto you. his tongue swirled with expert precision around the bundle of nerves, teasing your clit with rhythmic, swirling motions. your back arched violently off the bed, your chest heaving as you fought for air. your hands flew to his hair, fingers gripping tightly and pulling slightly, desperate to ground yourself in the pleasure.
sehun was a master, pulling broken, high-pitched moans from your throat effortlessly. then, with a sudden shift in intensity, he plunged his tongue deep inside you, forcing you to grip the bedsheets until your knuckles turned white. he began to flick his tongue with a relentless, blurring speed, driving you toward the edge.
your vision started to blur, white spots dancing before your eyes as your head grew hazy. He was utterly pussy drunk, consumed by the taste and scent of you, jamming his tongue into you with a desperate, starving energy. he couldn't get enough, he wanted to swallow every drop of you.
"you're so sweet..." he murmured against your skin, his voice low, vibrating rumble that echoed through your entire body, sending a final, violent wave of shivers crashing through you just as the first peak of pleasure began to shatter.
the orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, a violent, crashing explosion of pleasure that ripped through your entire body and left you completely undone. your muscles spasmed, your vision flickering as you plummeted from the peak into a state of raw, shivering vulnerability.
"fuck—please," you moaned, the words barely a whisper, broken and desperate. your feet dug deep into the mattress, toes curling as you tried to anchor yourself while the aftershocks continued to ripple through your core. you were wide open, breathless, and utterly at his mercy.
but sehun wasn't finished. he didn't pull away; instead, he leaned further in, determined to drink every last drop of your release. he continued to lap at you, his tongue sweeping over your hypersensitive skin to ride out the high with you.
as he finally pulled back, his chin was slick and glistening with your juices, a mark of his absolute consumption of you. he looked up at you with a dark, heavy-lidded gaze, his breathing just as ragged as yours. your chest heaved heavily, your heart hammering against your ribs, as you lay there trembling.
sehun hovered over you, his weight supported by his arms as he gazed down at your flushed, ruined state. his eyes were dark with a mixture of triumph and affection. "how was it?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
he was questioning the doubt you'd felt earlier—the fear of inadequacy that had kept you in the shower for forty minutes and he had systematically shattered it.
words refused to leave your mouth; you were completely speechless, your mind a hazy fog of pleasure. your eyes were heavy-lidded, barely able to focus on the man above you. "it felt so good..." you finally muttered, your voice a broken thread of a sound that grazed his ear.
the praise acted like fuel to his ego. a smug, satisfied smile played on his lips, his chest swelling with the knowledge that he had pushed you to the brink. your hands, still trembling, reached out toward the buttons of his silk pajamas, desperate to feel his skin against yours.
he didn't even let you finish the first button. with a sudden, impatient movement, he shrugged the silk off his body, casting it aside in one fluid motion. in the same breath, he freed himself from his slacks, stripping away the last barriers between you. your eyes were fixated on him, wide and hungry, taking in every inch of his hard, lean physique and the evidence of his own towering arousal.
you were so mesmerized that you didn't realize sehun was watching you back, observing the way you looked at him with such raw desire. "look at you," he scoffed with a soft, teasing smile, his voice dripping with amusement at your blatant hunger.
blushing furiously, you quickly looked away, unable to maintain eye contact under his intense scrutiny. you began mumbling something incoherent, your face heating up as you tried to hide your embarrassment.
while you were distracted by your own shyness, sehun leaned down and lightly grazed the tip of his rigid length against your entrance. the sudden, hot contact made you jolt, a small gasp escaping you. "hey—!"
sehun only chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating in his chest. "look at me, okay?" he commanded softly. you nodded, your eyes meeting his, wide and searching.
"i'll be gentle, but it might hurt a little," he murmured against your ear, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. the heat radiating off his body was overwhelming. as you looked down, the sheer size of him made you brace yourself; you knew you were in for something intense.
he began to enter you inch by inch, devastatingly slow. each fraction of an inch felt like a conquest, the stretch so intense it made you see stars despite everything he had done to prepare you, the previous penetration hadn't been enough to make taking him easy. you clenched around him instinctively, your breath hitching.
"wait—don't move!" you gasped, your voice strained.
he paused, his eyebrows knitting together in concern as he looked at you. "i'm not even halfway in," he whispered, his voice a mix of patience and hunger. "just relax for me... don't tense up, baby."
your mouth dropped open at the realization. he wasn't even fully inside you, yet you already felt completely filled, stretched to your limit. you let out a long, shaky exhale, forcing your muscles to soften and trying to make room for all of him.
sehun didn't stop until there was no more space left between you, finally settling in and burying himself to the hilt. the sensation was overwhelming; you breathed heavily, your lungs struggling to keep up as you felt the delicious, agonizing stretch of him filling every single corner of your core.
for a moment, the pleasure was all-consuming, but as he pushed that final, deep inch home, a sharp surge of pain spiked through you. you gasped, your back arching off the bed as the intensity of the stretch hit its limit.
as the initial shock subsided, your gaze drifted down. there, contrasting against the sheets and the skin of your thighs, you spotted a small amount of blood escaping from where you were joined. The sight sent a jolt of panic through you.
your eyes snapped back to his, wide and clouded with worry, your breath coming in short, shallow hitches. you looked at him with a silent, frightened question, wondering if you had been pushed too far.
sehun followed your gaze, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the crimson staining the sheets. the smug, dominant expression he’d worn moments ago vanished instantly, replaced by a look of intense concern. he froze, his entire body locking up as he processed the sight.
"you're doing so great..." he breathed, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a mixture of worry and raw adoration.
he didn't pull out immediately knowing that a sudden retreat might only cause more pain but he shifted his weight to alleviate the pressure, his forehead resting against yours.
his breathing was ragged, his heart hammering against your chest in a frantic rhythm as he looked into your worried eyes. he waited for you to settle, his fingers gently weaving through your hair to soothe you.
"do you want me to move?" he murmured, his voice dropping to a soft, tender tone. you gave a weak, trembling nod, trying to come down from the violent high of overstimulation jolting through your veins.
beneath you, sehun was suffering. his hands were clenched into tight fists, his knuckles white; being buried deep inside you without the ability to move was making him excruciatingly sensitive. every pulse of your warmth was like a drug, and he had to fight every instinct to simply lose control and rush into you. you were so warm, so tight, and you felt absolutely heavenly.
slowly, he began to move. he started with shallow, hesitant thrusts, coaxing soft, needy moans from your lips. a low groan escaped him, his fingers gripping your waist with a bruising intensity. sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down as the friction built.
"oh god, you feel so good—," he whined in your ear, the sound primal and desperate. your hands wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him closer as the tension reached a breaking point.
he couldn't resist himself anymore. with a sudden, guttural sound, he pulled out almost entirely leaving you to frown at the sudden, cold emptiness—before he rammed his length back inside with a forceful, punishing depth. the impact knocked the air right out of your lungs, leaving you gasping at the new, relentless pace.
you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sheer intensity of the sensation, but sehun stopped abruptly. "look at me," he commanded, his voice hard and authoritative. "If you don't, I'll stop."
you had no choice but to obey. you snapped your eyes open, locking your gaze with his. he wanted to see every flicker of pleasure and pain on your face; he wanted to witness exactly how he was breaking you.
with your eyes fixed on his, sehun took you in with a greedy stare, ruthlessly ramming into you, claiming every inch of your body over and over again.
the air in the room had grown thick and heavy, saturated with the primal scent of musk, sweat, and an overwhelming amount of love. the only sound filling the space was the wet, rhythmic slap of skin hitting skin—a lewd, intimate collision that echoed the frantic beating of your hearts.
sehun’s pace shifted from ruthless to desperate, his movements becoming a blur of friction and heat as he drove himself into you with a singular, hungry focus.
you screamed his name, the sound raw, your voice echoing against the walls as the bed creaked and groaned under the violence of his passion. each thrust was deeper than the last, hitting your cervix and sending shocks of electricity shooting up your spine.
sehun let out a low, jagged groan, his muscles corded and straining as he felt your walls begin to spasm. the way you were clenching around him; tight, hot, and desperate made it obvious that you were right on the edge.
then, it happened. your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, a violent surge of pleasure that robbed you of your breath and left you sobbing for air. your entire body shuddered, your back arching off the mattress as the peak ripped through you, tears escaped your eyes at the excruciating overstimulation. your juices flooded your core, leaving both his thighs and your stomach damp and glistening.
but sehun didn't stop instead of pulling back, he rode out your orgasm with a frenetic intensity, grinding his hips in faster, chasing his own high. he wanted to feel every single throb of your climax; he wanted to be consumed by you. your legs were shaking uncontrollably, the overstimulation turning your nerves into live wires, but he held you pinned, refusing to let go until he reached his own breaking point.
with a final, guttural groan, sehun buried himself to the hilt one last time. he slammed, pinning you against the bed as he emptied himself deep inside you. you could feel the hot, thick surge of his semen filling you.
in your haze of pleasure, you didn't let go instead, you milked him, your internal muscles clenching and pulsing in endless, rhythmic waves that drew every last drop from him. your pussy throbbed violently around his length, refusing to let him go even as the intensity began to level off.
for a long time, neither of you moved. you remained locked together, chests heaving in unison, the only sound the ragged, desperate gasps for air. sehun collapsed against you, his weight a comforting pressure, his face buried in the crook of your neck as you both drifted in the afterglow of a session that had pushed you both to the absolute limit.
── .✦conteúdo: fluff&sugestivo da gabz, a pp e o kai são bailarinos “amigos” que vão pra uma baladinha pra desestressar. ~0.7k palavrinhas e eu acho que é só isso!!
── .✦notinha da sun: tô com hiperfoco no kai porque fica aparecendo vídeo dele no meu tiktok toda hora, “rover” tá na minha cabeça, lembrei de um filme da BoA de 2013 que é de dança e tals, ai eu achei de bom tom misturar tudo isso e escrever essa fic. espero que vocês gostem, beijoquitas!! 💋
— Jongin, eu tô começando a ficar com medo — você afirmou para Kai, era assim que todos os seus colegas bailarinos chamavam-o desde que uma professora apelidou-o desse jeitinho, mas você não, chamá-lo pelo nome verdadeiro era uma forma de estabelecer afinidade de equipe, embora você pensasse que já tinham atingido esse nível de intimidade desde a primeira vez que ele encostou a mão na sua virilha, naquela altura Kai provavelmente já gabaritara todos os pontos do seu corpo, sabia onde você sentia cócegas e se aproveitava desse conhecimento nos ensaios.
Felizmente, tinha o melhor parceiro para o festival internacional de ballet, Jongin era centrado, mas te fazia rir nos intervalos, às vezes fazia umas perguntas sem sentido e você se questionava se todos os grandes gostosos feito ele tinham um parafuso a menos, de certa forma, aquele era só um dos inúmeros charmes de Kai.
Porra, estava completamente apaixonada pelo seu parceiro de dança meio doidinho.
— Deixa suas coisas aqui — tinham entrado pelos fundos de uma balada que só conseguiram alcançar depois de passarem por alguns, muitos, becos. Você desfazia o coque do ensaio enquanto guardava a bolsa junto com a de Jongin, onde ele havia indicado, deveria ficar de boa, afinal vocês se tocavam o tempo inteiro por causa do balé, mas seu coração quase saiu pela boca quando ele segurou sua mão, te conduzindo, as luzes douradas enfatizando sua pele no mesmo tom, melanina lhe caia tão bem quanto... sei lá, você por cima dele?
— Eu trabalho aqui, mas tô de folga hoje — você provavelmente esboçava uma expressão engraçada, que horas ele trabalhava ali? Ele tampouco dormia? Jongin não tinha olheiras, na verdade o rosto dele era lindo e... — você sabe dançar?
— Eu sei que você sabe balé, mas acho que você vai precisar de muito mais do que pliés aqui — ele te ajudou a se livrar da jaqueta e ainda bem que o tinha feito, seus olhos se arregalaram com a quantidade de gente que viu assim que “saíram do backstage”, Kai cumprimentou alguns colegas no bar e você anuiu com a cabeça para todos eles, agora percebia que ouviu música clássica a sua vida inteira e se sentia um peixe fora d'água com as batidas de uma música quente, garotas de shortinho e regatinha e muito esfrega-esfrega.
— Vem cá — ele pediu com um sorrisinho nos lábios, seu coração batia rápido, fosse pelo ambiente, pelos olhos de Jongin em você ou pelo fato que teria que se aproximar tanto, Jongin queria te puxar pra pista de dança, afastado do centro, mas mesmo assim na pista, numa brincadeira, você fez menção de se virar na direção oposta, mas ops, a mão dele ainda permanecia segurando a sua — vai ser legal, eu prometo.
— Legal? Eu não sei nem rebolar, Jongin.
— É mais fácil do que uma pirueta — você sorriu, pertinho dele, conseguia até observar uma gotinha de suor descendo traiçoeira pelo rosto, pescoço, passando pelo pomo de adão. Estava tão distraída que nem percebeu que ele te virava devagar pra ficar de costas, as mãos masculinas descansando no seu quadril da mesma forma que ele fazia quando tinha que te içar do chão — vou te ensinar a rebolar, só... só sente o meu corpo e tenta repetir.
Você só balançou a cabeça, achou que poderia gaguejar se dissesse alguma coisa, felizmente ou não estava acostumada com aquilo, por causa do balé aprendia rápido, mas Jongin começou devagar, sem pressa nenhuma, conduzindo seu corpo através do próprio corpo e das mãos no seu quadril, em algum momento o ritmo de vocês dois entrou em consenso, sentia o sorriso dele, assim como a quentura do corpo, estava te enlouquecendo.
Foi por isso que se virou, face a face novamente só conseguia prestar atenção naqueles cílios grandes, na boca bonita, a pele doce de leite, talvez toda sua inspeção tenha sido a razão pra ele te beijar, calmo, doce e gentil.
— Não tem nenhuma regra do festival que impeça a gente de transar, né? — você sorriu com a pergunta, balançando a cabeça pra esquerda e pra direita, Jongin suspirou aliviado, a mão mantendo seu queixo pra cima, a língua encontrando a sua num beijo que deveria ser um pecado de tão bom, talvez seria bom se confessar depois de todos esses beijos com um homem perigoso e devasso que sabia rebolar.
— Na cama eu sei rebolar — Jongin sorriu com a sua observação bastante útil.
SUMMARY: You would never call these hook-ups. That term didn’t suit Baekhyun – the gentleman, the prince, always so well-behaved, always on top of his game, sending polite smiles to the by-standers and more enthusiastic ones to the people he entertained with a small talk. Being called a lover despite these being only fleeing moments seemed far more suitable for the elegant man Baekhyun was.
A/N: I will be 100% with you, there is far more yapping than plot, but hey, I enjoyed the yapping! Just that I feel it's not so representative to my usual fics or even smuts in particular. Let me know what you think!
“Good evening, mister Byun” you greeted.
Just like any other time the two of you met publicly, to anyone standing by, it would look like nothing but a polite exchange. You didn’t even use your first names, keeping your interactions civil and businesslike, never out of place, never hinting to any connection deeper than a simple acquaintanceship.
“Good evening. I’m glad you found the time to come. I heard you’ve been pretty busy these days.” His smile was warm, but reserved.
“I managed to make the time” you smiled in response, a bit too widely, before catching yourself and timidly forcing down the enthusiasm. That bit of sincerity often sparkled through, no matter how elegant or refined you tried to act, and Baekhyun’s own smile widened – it was a distinctively you thing among all the trained smiles in the room. Before you met him, you tried far harder to un-learn that habit, to train yourself into a persona that was suitable for official gatherings like this. But, somehow, seeing Baekhyun grow fond of you despite the trait made you far more accepting of it as well. Maybe it was exactly what drew him to you in the first place – but you would never know that for sure.
“How has your work been, then?” he asked casually.
“Please, don’t make me think of it now” you hummed, expressively taking a sip of wine from the glass you were holding, and Baekhyun let out a warm laugh that drew some eyes to the two of you.
Baekhyun’s acquaintance, Jongdae, stood next to the two of you, his own smile never ceasing, although more relaxed as he only listened to the exchange. You wondered if, after knowing Baekhyun all these years, he could see through the politeness and only chose to disregard the signs. Or maybe it was just you thinking there was any way to see through Baekhyun – maybe his politeness was unbreachable. That would explain why, after all this time, the two of you remained unnoticed.
The truth, however, was that your relationship was much deeper than just acquaintanceship. Although, in a way, there was nothing deep about it – only a bit of inappropriateness, one that you were happy to keep away from the public eye. But, truthfully, it was nothing that special. Nothing one of a kind.
You would never call your meetings hook-ups. That term didn’t suit Baekhyun – the gentleman, the prince, always so well-behaved, always on top of his game, sending polite smiles to the by-standers and more enthusiastic ones to the people he entertained with a small talk. He held the wine glass with practiced elegance, never too lavishly, maintaining the perfect balance between modesty and confidence. It drew people in – it made everyone fall in love with him. And you weren’t any different.
But his fondness of you did differ from the one he showed to other people, and you were hyperaware of the lingering glances while the two of you entertained other guests during the fundraising party held in the old mansion that had been currently serving as a museum.
These were parties like this that the two of you met at the most often – a neutral ground, never raising anyone’s suspicions, never inappropriate.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if the two of you had been acknowledged by the public. But it wouldn’t feel right. As if it would mean expecting too much, creating a vision that neither of you wanted to take the responsibility for.
But the parties? They were a playground. They were something you looked forward to. You knew what to expect from him. It wasn’t emotionless; quite the opposite. The fondness was genuine and mutual. And it burned hot.
Every party or gathering, fundraising or not. Every time the fate brought you two together – somehow it happened frequently, the city’s socialite circle not being as broad as one would think. Finding a spot that nobody could find you in, making out until your bodies craved more, indulging in each other as if the two of you were lovers. Maybe you were, in a way. Being called a lover despite these being only fleeing moments seemed far more suitable for the elegant man Baekhyun was.
You wondered, however, if it felt any suitable for you. You lacked the confidence, the elegance that he oozed with. It wasn’t the first time you opted for being casual with someone, avoiding the arrangement that would require thinking too much, sacrificing too much. There was nothing special about you – you weren’t pure, or particularly beautiful, or notably skilled at making others feel good, despite your best efforts. Sometimes, you wondered why, of all people, Baekhyun sought refugee in your embrace.
But then you thought that, if nothing else, you prided yourself in always taking what he was giving, in always being honest about what you were willing or not willing to do, in being sincere with him at all times the two of you spent together.
This, for once, was not an act – even if the scenes or plays that the two of you engaged in sometimes were, just for the joy, for the variety of it, there was something genuine about the two of you never pretending to be something you were not. Maybe that was what the two of you needed – the safe place to act out the fantasy without wondering what the other may want from you at the end of the day. The trust. The compatibility that was not based on restraining yourself or hiding the true needs and wants, but on accepting what the other needed or wanted at the moment, and giving yourself to each other – without a worry or shame.
And there was, truly, no room for shame, because, despite the gentleman that he was, Baekhyun’s pace was always relentless. And, although you could predict the deed itself, you were still awestruck by the fact that of all places, he guided you to the art curator’s office and had you bent you over the desk of the kind elderly man that, less than twenty minutes ago, talked to you about the vegetables he was growing in his backyard. Carrots and pumpkins.
He chose this place deliberately, you knew. It wasn’t accidental. It couldn’t be, and Baekhyun was never accidental. Because right ahead of you, behind the curator’s leather office chair, hung an oil painting of a middle-aged lady looking at you with disdain and borderline disgust. Judging you. But never ceasing to watch.
Your stomach coiled with something feral, something that made you clench around Baekhyun’s cock as he moved at a fast, but deliberate pace, fingers tangled in your hair that surely didn’t hold the shape of the elegant updo that you entered the estate with. His other arm was wrapped around your waist, preventing you from falling against the desk – making sure that you never stopped the eye contact with the painting.
“Look at you… You’re going to go out there in that fancy dress and with cum leaking down your thighs. What a slut you have to be to get fucked at a fundraising party?”
His voice pierced through your very being. The meaning of it, the tone of his voice matched what you imagined the painting to think. Shameless. But careful all the while, so conscious of your comfort, making sure to never pull your hair in a way that would hurt, holding you well so that your pubic bone wouldn’t bruise against the desk you were pressed to.
“That’s what you’re good for. Being used like that…” His voice trailed off when you clenched around him, his own body quivering ever so slightly. “You’re so good for me” he all but moaned, his tone softening so suddenly that it gave you a whiplash. It was so him. Praise overlapping with degradation, the mood shifting but the pace never ceasing. And you swallowed up every single drop of it. He knew how to have you wrapped around his finger.
There was something cleansing about the way Baekhyun degraded you. About the ways he found to humiliate you, making the gap between of you grow to the size where it no longer mattered. Not trying to make you feel better about yourself. Making you feel so pathetic instead, so lowly and unworthy, that with his single touch, he made you ascend, setting your soul ablaze, giving your existence a purpose.
And then something utterly blessing in the way he praised you. As if only his approval mattered, as if of all things in the world, only his acknowledgement made any sense.
All these words tangled together with your own thoughts, mending so much that you no longer remembered what your insecurity was. A mush of perception, now commanded by him, last bits of your autonomy – gone without a trace.
Your mind melted away and you didn’t even realize you forgot to hold back on the sounds you were making until Baekhyun’s hand let go of your hair and clamped around your mouth instead, two fingers pushing between your lips, too frantic for you to even focus on anything but the salty taste on your tongue.
“Stay quiet, angel. I don’t want them to hear how much you like being ruined.”
You loved every bit of him. And he, undeniably and sincerely, loved every bit of you.
And as the world right outside the door continued to run, the two of you took the sweet time to indulge in the moments you allowed yourself to feel.
“Where did you learn to braid?”
Baekhyun’s fingers combed through your hair with practiced ease, untangling the knots and making sure nothing stood out as he tried to recreate your previous updo to his best capability. It surely wouldn’t look like straight from the hairdresser you visited earlier today, but he still seemed pretty comfortable in the way he brought the strands together, and, spotting yourself in the reflection of the glass cabinet nearby, you were certain no one would even notice the change.
“I used to share an apartment as a student” he admitted, a hue of shyness lacing his voice. “Me and two girls. It just came handy.”
You blinked.
“You? Shared an apartment?” You turned around to face him, now genuinely curious.
Baekhyun let out a small giggle. The sound was precious in your ears.
“I rebelled against my family a lot when I was younger. I moved out to study arts. Unimaginable in my bloodline. But it worked well for me.”
You nodded slowly, but still stared at him in awe, pondering over what you just learned.
“I’m not done yet” he suddenly scolded you, gently putting hands on the sides of your head and turning you to face away from him again.
His fingers worked so gently, so carefully. They massaged your scalp as they went on, and the sensation made you melt a little. For a brief moment, you thought that this is even nicer than any sex the two of you had. That you wouldn’t mind feeling this every day.
“I want to learn more about you” you suddenly announced.
Baekhyun’s fingers stilled. In the glass cabinet’s reflection, your eyes met. You stuttered, looking down at your hands, folded neatly in your lap.
“I- I mean, just, you know, out of curiosity.”
Slowly, uncertainly, he resumed the work. A silence fell upon the two of you. You let it last.
Somewhere in the middle, Baekhyun stood up to close the window he left ajar to refresh the office air. Nobody still found you here, and you wondered if it was just a matter of time or if the curator was simply not going to come. Not like anyone else had any business coming in here.
Giving your renewed updo the last glance and pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, Baekhyun patted your shoulder.
“Here you go, pretty girl. Are you cold?”
Your thoughts hung onto the casual praise for a moment before you replied.
“Just a little.” You turned around again, facing him, more confidently this time, with more certainty and intent. Your head tilted to the side, wordlessly inquiring, asking him the unspoken question. The tension between the two of you was sharp. Baekhyun’s lips parted for a moment, taking you in with hesitation.
“We can meet sometime.”
This, for once, sounded unpracticed. Baekhyun’s eyes slipped to your lips for a brief moment before moving back up, not in the usual way that made you weak in the knees, but rather yearning softly, as if his control slipped for a moment.
“If you would like.”
For a few moments, he sat there, bared from the usual demeanor, more vulnerable than you had ever seen him be. Real. Like he was doing it for the first time and worried about messing things up. You cherished this moment in your heart for as long as it took before you realized that his gaze, searching yours, pleaded for an answer.
“I would love that. Anytime you want. Anywhere…” He hushed you, pressing his lips against yours.
Like a lover. Like he usually did. Only now, it meant just a little bit more.
You broke the kiss, feeling your face burn up and covering the shyness with a cough that made the corner of Baekhyun’s lips lift smugly as he pressed the last, chaste kiss into your cheek.
“We should probably return to the party,” you spoke quickly, “someone might be looking for us.” Hopefully not the curator.
“It should be warmer there” he nodded.
He helped you to your feet and his hands smoothened the fabric of your dress.
The party continued throughout the night. Things that sprouted during, however, lasted much, much longer.
A/N: Please reblog if you enjoyed and follow if you would like to read more in the future. By the way! I will have the next Baekhyun fanfic coming out on 14th December. I will not be collecting tags for that one specifically so if you would like to be tagged, make sure to join my Taglist!
thoughts on how exo would react to you telling them about the 😏🥴🥵💦 dreams you had with them?
xiumin - he doesn't react much, just nods his head as he hears you and maybe gasps when you get into details. is normal, he tends to have it too.
junmyeon - honestly asks you if you're feeling neglected or something, if he should be giving it to you more often. sighs when you comfort him.
yixing - "why are you dreaming these things when i'm right here? 🤨". genuinely confused.
baekhyun - smirks so so much, loves that he's the one on your mind even when you're sleeping.
jongdae - he either smirks and makes a joke or asks you tons of questions if what you dreamed has a new kink or position.
chanyeol - "oh i had one about you too! so you were on top of me and-"
kyungsoo - stared at with like this 😐 but then later that night he's all over you and when you ask why he says "what? you've been dreaming about this".
jongin - blushes too hard, it feels like he has never seen you naked with how much he blushes. proceeds to ruin you at the first opportunity he has.
sehun - feels proud of himself and asks as many questions about it as he can (he wants to know what's subconsciously on your mind).
Notes: ALOT of humor, sfw but suggestive in a joking way, y/n is interested in his friends, you could lwk say they have chemistry n flirt a LITTLE bit, ermm enjoy!
You'll know his anger immediately because he will have this expression on his face and do the tongue thing and the eye stare. His anger level will depend on why he's mad and who he's mad at. If he's mad at you, he will be so petty and passive-aggressive, giving you short answers or a burly acknowledgment. If he's mad at something work-related, it's best to let him cool off and not try to make him more angry than he already is, but if he's mad because of a fan, then you'd better figure out a way to help him and calm him down because his your boyfriend and his mad at you.
Xiumin:
When Minseok is angry, it can be either of two ways. Either he is extremely quiet, but you can feel his anger, or he is talking and being so passive-aggressive. He would try to keep his anger in check and would try to spend time alone to calm down so he doesn't lash out at you or anyone else. His way to calm down would be a cleaning session around the house to keep his mind off things and to calm down, so you'd better expect a few hours of him cleaning and you better help.
Yixing:
He rarely ever gets angry, but when he does, you can tell by his facial expression, though he is always so sweet and nice, and even when angry, he will try to be nice and stay calm. He would take some time for himself to calm down, but he will never lash out at you or anyone because he's a sweetheart.
Baekhyun:
When he is angry, it will be shown in his eyes. His once soft puppy eyes are now replaced with a pissed-off look; he would be quiet, but his eyes say it all. He might act like his not be mad at you, but you might as well be careful around him. When he is angry at you, he will scold you and tell you what you did to get him angry, but after a while, he will calm down and will expect you to apologize.
Chanyeol:
When he's angry, it means you'd better get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He will start to frown at you from across the room; his tall figure and angry look will intimidate you. He won't say a word to you; he will just stare down at you, making sure you know he's angry and that it will take more than an “I'm sorry” to get on his good side, and even if you do, he will remind you what you did to get him pissed off.
Kyungsoo:
Run and hide and pray he doesn't catch you. This man will be so salty about whatever he's mad at; he will let you know his angry stare will get you, and he will complain. He will not hold back, and if you did something to piss him off, he will tell you exactly what you did, and if you try to apologize, he will cut you off, making sure his point came across and that you need to truly mean your apology.
Jongin:
This sweet baby will be so angry that he might cry; he will give you the silent treatment and ignore you when you try to talk to him. He will always walk away in the other direction when he sees you; he won't raise his voice, he won't try to talk, he will just avoid you and pretend you're not there. If his talking on the phone, he will make a passive-aggressive comment about you just so you know you have pissed him off, and to get on his good side, it will take cornering him and forcing him to listen to you, but you better have a good apology because he won't settle for the bare minimum.
Sehun:
He will be extra salty and will literally talk shit about you to his best friend Junmyeon right in front of you so you'll know you pissed him off and will also be so dramatic and tell everyone about how ungrateful you are for making him angry and might exaggerate when telling people why he's mad to make himself look like he's innocent.
ᥫ᭡ content: fiancé!chanyeol x f!reader, beach wedding au, fluff, light humor, teasing, pre-wedding jitters, practice kiss, soft romance, non-explicit, established relationship, chanyeol x you
ᥫ᭡ words: 1.3k
ᥫ᭡ summary: a few hours before your beach wedding, what starts as a simple “practice kiss” turns into something far too real to be just rehearsal.
ᥫ᭡: a/n note: wow, first chanyeol story on this account! how exciting! this was suggested by an anon, with a little twist of mine… i wanted to make it different with a beach wedding setting! hope you enjoy, happy reading! xoxo
There were only a few hours left. A few hours until everything changed.
And still, there you were. Laughing and laughing, as if it were just any ordinary day.
“Chan, come here for a second,” you called, already lifting your phone.
Chanyeol turned his head toward you, his hair messy from the wind, his white shirt slightly open, completely relaxed in a way that clashed with the fact that he was getting married in just a few hours.
“That’s suspicious,” he narrowed his eyes, but walked over anyway.
“Just say hi,” you insisted, trying not to laugh.
He let out a dramatic sigh but stepped into the frame.
“Hi,” he said, way too simply.
You made a face behind the camera. “Wow, that’s so boring. Try harder.''
He let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair before looking straight into the lens again.
“Hi,” this time more animated, with a small smile. “If you’re watching this in the future… I’m probably already a really cool dad.”
You laughed immediately, lowering the phone.
“Probably?”
“I’m being humble,” he shrugged.
You shot back, still laughing. “And who said our kids are even going to want to watch this?”
He tilted his head, stepping a little closer. “They’ll want to know how dramatic their mom was before getting married.”
“I am not dramatic.” You lightly pushed his shoulder.
“You made me record a video for the future,” he raised an eyebrow.
“…okay, maybe a little.”
You both laughed, and for a moment… it went quiet.
Not uncomfortable. Just… full. You looked at the ocean for a second, taking a deep breath.
“Chan…”
“Hmm?”
You hesitated, lightly biting your lip before speaking. “We should practice.”
He turned his head immediately. “Practice what?”
You made a vague gesture, avoiding his eyes.
“The kiss.”
Silence. And then he started laughing.
“Are you serious?”
“I don’t know how long it’s supposed to last!” you said too quickly. “Like… is it short? Is it long? Is it just a peck? What if it’s awkward in front of everyone?''
He tried to hold it in, but he was clearly enjoying himself way too much.
“Respectful?” he repeated, holding back a laugh. “We’re getting married.”
You opened your mouth to argue—
But didn’t get the chance. Because he just stepped closer. And, without any warning, started.
One quick kiss. Another... and another... and another.
Short pecks, one after the other, barely leaving any space in between.
“Chan—” you tried to speak, but he interrupted you with another kiss.
You let out a laugh in the middle of it, lightly pushing his chest without actually wanting him to stop.
“Stop!” you said, laughing. “That’s not how it works!”
“Oh?” he murmured between kisses, clearly amused. “I’m testing all the options.”
“This isn’t a test, this is an attack!”
He laughed against your lips, stealing one more quick kiss before finally pulling back a little.
You brought a hand to your face, slightly embarrassed, but smiling.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re blushing,” he shot back immediately.
You turned your face away, trying to hide it, but ended up laughing again.
And without realizing, the moment pulled a memory with it.
“You used to do this in high school,” you said, glancing at him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”
“This,” you gestured vaguely. “Bombard me with kisses when I was nervous about something.”
He thought for a second.
Then a slow smile spread across his face, like he had found the exact memory.
“It worked.”
You let out a short sigh, shaking your head.
“I hated it.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I hated it in front of other people,” you corrected, crossing your arms but still smiling. “It was humiliating.”
“You were the one who walked around with me during breaks,” he shrugged.
“Because you wouldn’t leave me alone!”
“And you never really tried to avoid me.”
The wind blew stronger, messing up your hair again, and this time you didn’t try to fix it.
You just let yourself fall onto the sand. He looked at you, slightly surprised.
“Comfortable there?”
“I am now,” you replied, staring up at the sky.
After a second, he laid down beside you too, your shoulders almost touching.
The sky stretched above you, painted in warm tones, and the sound of the ocean felt more distant from that angle.
For a few seconds, neither of you said anything. Until—
“Look,” you pointed.
A plane crossed the sky, leaving a long white trail behind it, cutting through the blue like a drawn line.
He followed it with his eyes.
“Funny,” he murmured.
“It looks like someone drew on the sky,” you said.
He kept watching it for another second, eyes slightly narrowed, as if memorizing it.
“Yeah… it does,” he murmured.
Then he turned to you.
“Our last sunset like this.”
You frowned slightly. “Like what?”
“As fiancés,” he said simply, but with a different kind of smile. “In a few hours… that changes.”
“You know this was always kind of a dream of mine, right?”
He turned to you immediately. “This?”
You gestured around — the ocean, the sand, the open sky.
“Getting married on a beach…”
He watched you closely.
“When I was younger, I used to imagine it,” you continued, smiling softly, a little shy. “Nothing too big. Just… this. The sound of the ocean, the wind, a few people… and someone who was actually worth it.”
He didn’t respond right away. He just looked at you.
“I used to think it was kind of impossible,” you let out a quiet laugh. “It felt like something out of a movie.”
“And now?” he asked.
You turned to him, meeting his gaze directly.
“Now it feels… right. I just know I want you forever.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, letting it settle. The wind passed again, softer this time, and the sound of the ocean seemed to fill the space between your words.
“Husband and wife…” you repeated, almost testing how it sounded.
He let out a quiet laugh. “Weird?”
“A little.''
You turned to him again, finding that calm smile, but with something deeper underneath.
“But not bad,” you added. “Just… different.”
He nodded slowly, looking back at the sky.
“I think I like that.”
“Me too.”
The silence returned, comfortable.
“But since this is our last sunset as fiancés…” he started, his tone shifting slightly.
You turned your head immediately. “Here we go.”
“I think we should do it properly,” he continued, completely ignoring you.
“Do what properly?”
He turned his body slightly toward you, resting on his elbow.
“The test.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“Chan…”
“I’m serious now,” he insisted, though the smile gave him away. “No sabotage, no complaining, no ‘that was weird.’”
“I don’t sabotage!”
“You literally failed my kiss.”
“Because it was weird!”
He laughed, shaking his head.
“Then let me fix it.”
You opened your mouth to respond—
But he was faster. His hand found your arm, gently pulling you closer. The movement felt too natural for you to resist. And before you could say anything, he was already close enough. This time, no rush.
No teasing at first. The kiss came different. More firm. More certain. And for a second, you completely forgot this was supposed to be “just practice.” When he pulled away slowly, still way too close, you blinked a few times.
Trying to come back.
“…okay,” you murmured, still a little dazed. “That was—”
He leaned in again, just enough to interrupt you.
“Hm…” he said softly, a playful smile forming at the corner of his lips.
“…you didn’t actually think that was the real test, did you?”
Your heart skipped.
“Chan—”
But he was already back. And this time… it didn’t feel like practice at all.
