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@ujisthings
Hi I'm Savanah I'm 23 I'm a multistan.
I write smut, fluff and angst. Mostly smut. I take requests, so feel free to ask me anything.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT OR BLOG AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
I won't tolerate hate towards seventeen those are my babies so you will be blocked if I see you hating on them in my inbox
If you request tell me in detail what tags it should have and what genre it should be. Thank you 😊
Masterlist
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
Hey everyone its been so long i had a lot of stress and stuff going on with work and life but how have you guys been also happy new year hopefully this year i can get a break and take requests yall can request somethings if yall want i have a break now for a few days requests are much appreciated
Might start writing for other fandoms outside of kpop and more into games and anime
Working on this love and deepspace fanfic its gonna be a series
discovering a kink you never knew caleb had
you never knew caleb had a thing for squirting.
hell, you didn’t even know you could do it yourself.
it all hit you like a freight train that night, tangled up in his bed, sweat-slicked sheets twisted around your legs.
you’d been fucking for what felt like hours — his thick cock slamming into you missionary style, your thighs spread wide, knees hooked over his hips as he pounded relentlessly.
every thrust stretched your soaked pussy to its limits, the obscene squelch of your juices filling the air.
you were a mess already, clit throbbing from the way he’d been rubbing it earlier with his thumb, your walls clenching greedily around him like they were trying to milk him dry.
but then it built — this weird, unfamiliar pressure deep in your core, like you had to piss but way more intense, bubbling up from your bladder and radiating through your swollen folds.
it scared you a little, made your body tense. “caleb — fuck, slow down-” you gasped, your voice breaking as you clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his sweat-drenched skin.
“i feel… something weird building up, like, really weird.. slow down, baby—”
his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the keys to paradise.
that hungry, feral grin spread across his face, all teeth and sin, and instead of slowing, the bastard motivated himself.
“oh yeah? that’s it, baby girl.” he growled low and nasty, voice rough as gravel. “don’t you hold back on me.” before you could protest, his strong arms wrapped around you like iron bands, yanking your body flush against his.
he locked you in tight — chest to chest, your tits squished against his pecs, his hips pinning yours down so you couldn’t squirm away.
one hand gripped your ass cheek hard, fingers bruising the flesh as he spread you wider, the other tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat for his teeth.
he went feral after that, jackhammering into you faster, harder — his cock pistoning like a machine.
“come on baby..” he snarled against your neck, biting down just hard enough to draw a whimper.
“i can feel it — you’re gonna fucking explode all over my dick.” the pressure skyrocketed, your bladder screaming, you thrashed in his grip, but he held you immobile, fucking you through it.
“fuck—caleb, i can’t—” you wailed, your voice a broken sob.
and then it hit—that feeling bursting inside you, your pussy convulsed violently around his cock, walls fluttering and squeezing as a gush of hot fluid erupted from you.
you felt it everywhere — your juices running down you, pooling under your ass, making everything slippery and filthy.
“fuuuuck..” caleb groaned, eyes wild with lust as he watched it happen, feeling the warm flood coat his shaft mid-thrust.
he didn’t stop—kept railing you through the orgasm, his cock churning your squirting pussy into a frothy mess, white cream from your arousal foaming at the base.
Caleb squirt
discovering a kink you never knew caleb had
you never knew caleb had a thing for squirting.
hell, you didn’t even know you could do it yourself.
it all hit you like a freight train that night, tangled up in his bed, sweat-slicked sheets twisted around your legs.
you’d been fucking for what felt like hours — his thick cock slamming into you missionary style, your thighs spread wide, knees hooked over his hips as he pounded relentlessly.
every thrust stretched your soaked pussy to its limits, the obscene squelch of your juices filling the air.
you were a mess already, clit throbbing from the way he’d been rubbing it earlier with his thumb, your walls clenching greedily around him like they were trying to milk him dry.
but then it built — this weird, unfamiliar pressure deep in your core, like you had to piss but way more intense, bubbling up from your bladder and radiating through your swollen folds.
it scared you a little, made your body tense. “caleb — fuck, slow down-” you gasped, your voice breaking as you clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his sweat-drenched skin.
“i feel… something weird building up, like, really weird.. slow down, baby—”
his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the keys to paradise.
that hungry, feral grin spread across his face, all teeth and sin, and instead of slowing, the bastard motivated himself.
“oh yeah? that’s it, baby girl.” he growled low and nasty, voice rough as gravel. “don’t you hold back on me.” before you could protest, his strong arms wrapped around you like iron bands, yanking your body flush against his.
he locked you in tight — chest to chest, your tits squished against his pecs, his hips pinning yours down so you couldn’t squirm away.
one hand gripped your ass cheek hard, fingers bruising the flesh as he spread you wider, the other tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat for his teeth.
he went feral after that, jackhammering into you faster, harder — his cock pistoning like a machine.
“come on baby..” he snarled against your neck, biting down just hard enough to draw a whimper.
“i can feel it — you’re gonna fucking explode all over my dick.” the pressure skyrocketed, your bladder screaming, you thrashed in his grip, but he held you immobile, fucking you through it.
“fuck—caleb, i can’t—” you wailed, your voice a broken sob.
and then it hit—that feeling bursting inside you, your pussy convulsed violently around his cock, walls fluttering and squeezing as a gush of hot fluid erupted from you.
you felt it everywhere — your juices running down you, pooling under your ass, making everything slippery and filthy.
“fuuuuck..” caleb groaned, eyes wild with lust as he watched it happen, feeling the warm flood coat his shaft mid-thrust.
he didn’t stop—kept railing you through the orgasm, his cock churning your squirting pussy into a frothy mess, white cream from your arousal foaming at the base.
Caleb squirt
HEYOOOO, 🐰 anon is hereeee!!!
how are uuu, how have u been? any wips currently?
what other kpop groups do u stan besides seventeen?
excited to see ur next piece of workkk 🛐
Hey cutie I've been good, I've just been obsessing over this anime character sebastian from black butler he's so amazing, but other than that nothing much just work I've been so busy with it because its the end of the year almost. I stan a lot of other kpop groups I won't be able to name all them but I really like stray kids, bts, txt, enhypen, twice, red velvet, exo, fromis_9 and a lot of others. I will probably release somethings i have in my drafts that I just need to edit it but that will only be next month or the end of this month
Yall I got 127 followers 🤨
Sticker sticker i got what you need!!!!
~Thirteen Wishes~
A/N: @babilou-pov Early birthday present for you happy early birthday. I hope you like it 😊 🎂
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Member & Reader: SEVENTEEN OT13 x Reader
Tags: fluff, comfort, humor, birthday celebration, Seventeen OT13
Word Count: ~2,000
Summary: You think your birthday will be quiet this year… until thirteen chaotic idols decide otherwise and give you the most unforgettable surprise of your life.
---
Your birthday was creeping up quietly, like it didn’t want to disturb anyone. No plans. No hints. No suspicious texts. Just vibes.
You told yourself it was fine, that you’d chill with a snack and maybe watch a drama. But a tiny part of you wished Seventeen could magically appear from thin air and yell “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” like they were summoning fireworks.
You didn’t know that they were already plotting.
Jeonghan had assembled them like a general preparing a coup.
“Okay,” he said, smirking. “She has no idea. Perfect.”
Joshua nodded. “Let’s make it sweet, please. I’m begging.”
“Define sweet,” Hoshi said, already stretching like he was preparing for a flash mob.
They had one plan: lure you to a place without you asking questions. Their genius solution?
Joshua texted you.
Joshua: “Hey, can you come to the studio? We wanna show you something real quick.”
Casual. Simple. Deadly effective.
You didn’t suspect a thing.
You walked into Pledis’ practice floor, expecting… what? A new choreo? A behind-the-scenes project? Maybe a dumb Hoshi prank?
Instead, the hallway was suspiciously silent.
You pushed open the main studio door and—
Darkness.
You blinked. “...Hello?”
And then the lights EXPLODED on.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY!”
“AYO LET’S GO LET’S GO—DINO STOP THROWING CONFETTI IN MY MOUTH—”
“MINGYU YOUR BALLOON ARC IS COLLAPSING—”
“WHY IS THERE SMOKE—WHO TURNED ON THE MACHINE—”
Thirteen men stood in the absolute most chaotic tableau: confetti everywhere, balloons half-floating, Vernon holding a party popper like it personally betrayed him.
You froze, stunned into silence.
Jeonghan beamed. “Surprise.”
Mingyu rushed over and gave you the gentlest bear hug known to mankind. “You didn’t think we’d miss your birthday, right?”
Your heart did a little flip.
Joshua stepped forward, smiling soft and proud. “We worked really hard on this. Like… painfully hard.”
Hoshi: “I accidentally set off the smoke machine three times.”
Seungkwan: “And screamed each time.”
Vernon: “It was kinda cinematic.”
You laughed, finally shaking off the shock. “You guys are insane.”
“Yeah,” Coups said. “But we’re your insane.”
Minghao placed a tiny crown on your head with delicate precision. “There. Now the atmosphere feels right.”
Jun added, “Royal birthday energy only.”
Woozi stepped up with a mic. You instantly sensed danger.
“We prepared something special,” he said.
Hoshi: “A performance!”
DK: “A vocal attack!”
Vernon: “A moment.”
They lined up in formation like they were about to drop a world tour.
And then they sang.
It wasn’t polished like a concert. It was warm, chaotic, emotional. Woozi’s harmonies melted into DK’s powerhouse notes, Hoshi nearly kicked a balloon into Seungkwan’s face, Mingyu forgot one of the lines and recovered with finger hearts. You floated in all their affection, feeling like the center of a small and beautiful universe.
When they finished, they collapsed around you on the floor in a messy circle.
Coups wiped his forehead dramatically. “That was the most stressful birthday stage of my life.”
You giggled, cheeks hurting from smiling.
Joshua nudged you and handed you a small, neatly wrapped box. “This is from all of us.”
Inside were thirteen polaroids. Each member had taken one, decorated it, and written you a personal little message.
Jeonghan’s had glitter.
Woozi’s handwriting was bizarrely neat.
DK’s said “I hope your birthday is louder than Seungkwan.”
Seungkwan’s said “It won’t be.”
Hoshi drew a tiger. Obviously.
Mingyu’s was just a picture of his forehead because he didn’t check the camera.
Vernon wrote something surprisingly poetic.
The8 drew tiny flowers around the border.
Jun doodled a crown above your head.
Dino wrote “Thank you for being born” in the most sincere way.
By polaroid thirteen, your chest was warm and full.
You looked at them, eyes shiny. “This is… seriously the sweetest birthday I’ve ever had.”
The room went soft.
Joshua: “You deserve this. And more.”
Jeonghan leaned in with a wicked little smile. “And next year… just wait. I already have ideas.”
Hoshi gasped. “Pyrotechnics?”
“No.”
“Yes,” Hoshi whispered dramatically.
Everyone groaned.
You laughed, heart glowing like a lantern.
Thirteen voices rose at once.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
“WE LOVE YOUUU!”
“MAKE A WISH!”
You closed your eyes, made one silent wish, and blew out the candles.
The moment wrapped around you like a warm blanket.
Thirteen wishes.
One perfect birthday.
And the sound of Seventeen singing for you echoing in your heart long after the candles dimmed.
---
Uhmm soo hey gurl is Joshua…Hung story request possible…? Cuz the man himself hasn’t denied the allegation of being Joshua Hung. 😶🌫️😶🌫️
~True..so fucking True~
A/N: OMG GUYS I WROTE THIS SO FAST I CAN NOT I WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY AND THE WAY DK JUST KEPT SAYING IT. OH WE KNOW ITS BIG BIG
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Tags: Smut... just pure smut
Member×Reader: Joshua & FemReader
Summary: You heard some odd rumors about your new boyfriend you just thought they were silly, but curiosity got the better of you
---
The hushed whispers followed Joshua like a shadow, clinging to every fan interaction, every stage performance. My friends, wide-eyed and giggling, forwarded me the anonymous forum posts, the blurry screenshots. "They say he's... well, *gifted*," Seokmin had teased, nudging my arm, a knowing glint in his eye. I always brushed it off, a silly idol rumor, another piece of manufactured buzz. Joshua was sweet, gentle, almost shy. The idea of him possessing some mythical, oversized appendage seemed ludicrous.
"Are you thinking about those ridiculous rumors again?" Joshua's voice, soft as a lullaby, pulled me from my thoughts. He stood in the doorway of his sleek, minimalist living room, a faint smile playing on his lips. His black t-shirt, usually a casual drape, seemed to cling to his torso tonight, hinting at the lean muscle beneath.
"No," I lied, a blush creeping up my neck. "Just... admiring the view." I gestured vaguely around his impeccably tidy apartment.
He chuckled, a low, warm sound. "Come here." He extended a hand, his fingers long and elegant. I walked towards him, my heart a hummingbird in my chest. He pulled me close, his arms wrapping around my waist, his chin resting on my head. The scent of his cologne, a subtle blend of citrus and wood, enveloped me.
"You're quiet tonight," he murmured, his breath warm against my hair. "Something on your mind?"
I looked up, meeting his dark, inquisitive eyes. "Just... you."
He leaned down, his lips brushing mine, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down my spine. "Good." The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, his tongue seeking mine, a gentle exploration. My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart.
He led me to his bedroom, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows. The air grew thick with anticipation. He shed his shirt, revealing a sculpted chest, taut abs. My gaze lingered, tracing the lines of his body. He unbuttoned my blouse, his fingers brushing against my skin, sending sparks.
Soon, we lay entangled on the crisp white sheets, a tangle of limbs and soft murmurs. His hand drifted lower, tracing the curve of my hip, then resting on the soft skin of my inner thigh. A jolt went through me. He leaned in, his voice a husky whisper, "Are you ready?"
"Yes," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper.
He shifted, his body pressing against mine. And then I felt it. A solid, undeniable presence. My breath hitched. It was... substantial. More than substantial. The rumors, the whispers, they weren't just rumors. They were an understatement. My eyes widened, a silent gasp escaping my lips.
Joshua watched my reaction, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face. "Surprised?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.
I could only nod, my mind reeling. The sheer girth of him, a thick column pressing against me, promised an intensity I hadn't imagined. He nudged my legs apart, positioning himself. The head of his cock, dark and engorged, pressed against my wet slit. I gasped, a mixture of awe and trepidation. He was thick, so thick.
"Hold on," he whispered, his eyes locking with mine, a playful challenge in their depths. He pushed, slowly, inch by agonizing inch. My pussy stretched, protesting then yielding, a delicious burn spreading through me. A low moan escaped my throat. The head disappeared, then more, until the full length of him, a throbbing, pulsing monument, filled me completely. My walls hugged him tightly, a delicious pressure building. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel every inch.
"Oh, Joshua," I whimpered, my voice raw with pleasure and disbelief. He began to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm, his hips grinding against mine. Each thrust stretched me further, pushing against my cervix, a sensation both overwhelming and exquisitely pleasurable. My body arched, meeting his every movement. The rumors were true.
---
~Unknown~
A/N: this was requested by my beautiful queen @k4trinabluu hope you like it cutie 💓
---
Tags: Smutish?? Fluff, angst, dark themes in a way?
Member(s)× Reader: Joshua, Jeonghan, Mingyu, Seokmin, Seungcheol and Wonwoo
Summary: Reader lives with all of them and gets kidnapped by mingyu's ex girlfriend and her friend but luckily the guys save the day
---
The silk of the sheets kissed my skin, a familiar luxury. Sunlight, filtered through the penthouse’s towering windows, painted stripes across the plush carpet. A soft hum vibrated from the kitchen, a symphony of breakfast preparations orchestrated by Seungcheol and Seokmin, no doubt. My eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sight of Jeonghan, his silver hair a halo against the crisp white pillow, a gentle smile already curving his lips as he watched me.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice a low thrum against my ear. A warm hand settled on my hip, pulling me closer. “Dreaming of us?”
I stretched, a languid arch of my back, a contented sigh escaping my lips. “Always.” My fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Seokmin’s specialty pancakes, I think,” Joshua’s voice floated from the doorway, a playful lilt. He leaned against the frame, a steaming mug cradled in his hands, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And Mingyu’s coffee, strong enough to wake the dead.”
Mingyu appeared behind him, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Only the best for our princess.” He walked over, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Ready to conquer the day?”
Wonwoo, ever the quiet one, simply offered a small, warm smile from his spot on the sofa, already engrossed in a book, but his gaze flickered to me, full of affection.
The morning unfolded in a familiar rhythm of laughter, shared bites of fluffy pancakes, and the easy comfort of their presence. They fussed over me, filling my plate, refilling my coffee, their eyes brimming with an adoration that still, after all this time, made my heart swell. They lavished me with gifts, not because I asked, but because they loved to see my face light up. A delicate sapphire necklace, a first edition of my favorite author’s work, a weekend getaway to a remote cabin – each surprise a testament to their boundless affection. I, in turn, accepted their generosity with an open heart, cherishing their thoughtfulness more than the material things themselves.
Later, as the afternoon sun dipped, casting long shadows, I prepared to meet them at Seokmin’s penthouse for our usual Friday evening. I slipped on a light dress, the sapphire necklace a cool weight against my collarbone. It was a gift from Seungcheol, a small, discreet tracker embedded within its intricate design. “Just in case,” he’d said, his brow furrowed with a concern I’d found endearing. “The city can be… unpredictable.”
I stepped out, the city’s cacophony a dull roar around me. A sleek black car pulled up, not one of theirs. I hesitated, a faint ripple of unease. The window slid down, revealing a woman with sharp, angular features and a cold, assessing gaze.
“You’re Y/N, aren’t you?” Her voice was smooth, almost silken, but laced with an unsettling edge.
“Yes,” I replied, my hand instinctively going to the necklace.
“Get in,” she commanded, her eyes narrowing. “We need to talk.”
Before I could react, another woman, taller, with fiery red hair and a sneer twisting her lips, emerged from the car’s passenger side. A rough hand clamped over my mouth, another shoved me forward. The world spun, a sudden, terrifying blur of motion as I was forced into the backseat. The door slammed shut, plunging me into a suffocating darkness.
Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through me. I struggled, but their grip was iron. The car sped off, the city lights becoming streaks of color, then fading into the encroaching twilight.
“So, you’re the little whore they’ve all fallen for,” the sharp-featured woman, who introduced herself as Lena, spat, her voice dripping with venom. “Jeonghan’s new plaything.”
“And Mingyu’s,” the red-haired woman, Sarah, added, her fingers digging into my arm. “You think you’re special, don’t you? You think you can just waltz in and take what’s ours?”
Their words, laced with a bitterness I couldn’t comprehend, felt like physical blows. They yanked my hair, slapped my face, their accusations swirling around me like a toxic cloud. They called me names, flung insults about my character, my intentions, everything they imagined me to be. Each word chipped away at my composure, leaving me raw and exposed.
The car finally jolted to a stop. They dragged me out, into a dimly lit, damp basement. The air hung heavy with the smell of mildew and stale air. They tied me to a rickety chair, their eyes glinting with a malicious satisfaction.
“You think they care about you?” Lena sneered, her face inches from mine. “They’ll forget you in a week. They always do.”
Sarah laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “You’re just another toy. A pretty face to keep them entertained until they get bored.”
The insults continued, a relentless assault on my spirit. They wanted to break me, to strip away the confidence and love I had found. They talked about Jeonghan’s fleeting affections, Mingyu’s insatiable desire for novelty, painting a picture of them as fickle, heartless men who would discard me as easily as a broken toy. The words burrowed into my mind, planting seeds of doubt, chilling me to the core.
Meanwhile, at Seokmin’s penthouse, a palpable tension hung in the air. The grand living room, usually filled with laughter, was silent, save for the soft click of keys on a laptop.
“She’s late,” Seungcheol muttered, his fingers flying across the keyboard, his face a mask of grim determination. “She’s never late.”
“I tried calling her again,” Jeonghan said, his voice tight with worry. He paced the room, his movements restless. “Straight to voicemail.”
Mingyu slammed his fist on the coffee table. “Something’s wrong.” His eyes, usually so full of warmth, blazed with a fierce anger. “I feel it.”
Wonwoo, his book forgotten, stared intently at the glowing screen. “The tracker… it just activated.”
“Where?” Joshua asked, his voice sharp with urgency.
“An abandoned warehouse district, south side,” Wonwoo replied, his brow furrowed. “And it’s not moving.”
Seokmin, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by a steely resolve, grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go.”
They moved with a synchronized efficiency, a well-oiled machine driven by a singular purpose: to find me. The drive was a blur of flashing lights and tense silence. When they burst through the warehouse door, the scene that greeted them ignited a primal rage within their hearts.
I was slumped in the chair, tears silently streaming down my face, the accusations of Lena and Sarah echoing in my mind. Lena held a knife, its cold blade pressing against my cheek, while Sarah stood guard, a cruel smile on her lips.
A guttural roar tore from Mingyu’s throat. He launched himself forward, a whirlwind of fury. Lena screamed, dropping the knife as Seungcheol tackled her, his movements swift and brutal. Jeonghan, his face a thundercloud, grabbed Sarah, twisting her arm behind her back with a sickening crack. Joshua and Seokmin were by my side in an instant, untying my bonds, their hands gentle, their faces etched with anguish. Wonwoo stood a little apart, his gaze fixed on Lena and Sarah, a cold, dangerous glint in his eyes.
“Are you hurt?” Joshua’s voice was a whisper, filled with a tenderness that made my heart ache.
I could only shake my head, my throat tight with unshed sobs. The relief of seeing them was overwhelming, but their words, the venomous words of Lena and Sarah, still festered.
They dealt with Lena and Sarah with a chilling efficiency, their actions swift and merciless. I averted my gaze, unable to watch the raw, brutal anger that consumed them. They were different now, their usual gentle smiles replaced by a grim resolve.
Back at Seokmin’s penthouse, the sterile white walls felt oppressive. The luxurious furnishings, once a comfort, now seemed to mock my shattered composure. Seungcheol and Mingyu had gone to make calls, their voices hushed, their expressions still hard. Jeonghan sat beside me on the sofa, his arm a comforting weight around my shoulders, but I felt a strange detachment.
“Let us help you clean up, love,” Seokmin said, his voice soft, his eyes filled with concern. He held out a clean towel, his hand hovering.
“I… I can do it,” I mumbled, avoiding his gaze. The thought of their gentle hands touching me, after what Lena and Sarah had said, made me flinch internally. *They’ll get bored. You’re just another toy.*
Wonwoo, ever perceptive, noticed my withdrawal. His eyes, usually so warm, held a flicker of hurt. “Y/N?”
I pushed myself up, my movements stiff. “I just… I need a moment.” I walked towards the bathroom, their worried gazes burning into my back. Inside, I turned on the shower, the hot water a stinging balm against my skin, but it couldn’t wash away the insidious whispers that still echoed in my mind.
After a long, solitary shower, I emerged, wrapped in a plush robe, my hair damp. The living room was quiet. They sat there, a silent vigil, their faces a mixture of concern and confusion. I wanted to crawl into bed, to pull the covers over my head and disappear.
“Y/N,” Jeonghan’s voice was gentle, but firm. “Talk to us.”
I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, my fingers fiddling with the hem of my robe. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There is,” Joshua insisted, his voice laced with pain. “We know something happened beyond just… the attack.”
Mingyu knelt before me, his eyes searching mine. “What did they say to you?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. The words, so ugly and cruel, felt impossible to voice. I felt a tremor run through me.
“They… they said you’d get bored,” I whispered, the words barely audible. My voice cracked. “That I’m just… a toy. That you’ll throw me away.”
A collective gasp filled the room. Their faces contorted with a shared anguish.
“No,” Seungcheol said, his voice thick with emotion. He reached for my hand, his touch hesitant. “Never.”
“They’re lying,” Seokmin added, his eyes burning with a fierce protectiveness. “Those hateful women. They wanted to hurt you, to hurt us.”
Wonwoo, who had remained silent, now spoke, his voice low and steady. “Look at us, Y/N. Look at our faces. Do you see boredom? Do you see indifference?”
I finally met their gazes, one by one. I saw pain, yes, but also a profound love, a fierce devotion that shone brighter than any doubt. Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time, they were tears of release.
“We love you,” Jeonghan whispered, pulling me into his embrace. The others joined, a tangle of arms and warm bodies, surrounding me, protecting me. Their scent, a mixture of their individual colognes and the lingering smell of their concern, enveloped me.
“You’re not a toy,” Mingyu murmured against my hair, his lips brushing my temple. “You’re our world.”
Their words, their touch, slowly began to mend the fractured pieces of my heart. I leaned into their warmth, letting their love wash over me, a soothing balm to my wounded spirit. The fear, the doubt, the insidious whispers, began to recede, replaced by the comforting truth of their unwavering affection. I closed my eyes, feeling safe, cherished, and loved, finally drifting into a peaceful sleep in the protective circle of their arms.
---
Guyssss buzzfeed just released thirst tweets pt2 with josh dk and dino OMG ITS INSANE MY GOD!!! fuck now joshua knows we want him pregnant but atleast he knows we want to get pregnant by him 🫢🫣
Hmm reading ur latest post abt heartbroke x seventeen gave me an idea:
Maybe an interview where its leader y/n and another male idol (and they're naturally besties off camera) and the original 7 that had a crush on her get jealous and the heartbroke members tease them abt it 😛😛 maybe the interview can be something similar to where a celebrity plays with kitties/puppies while answering questions on buzzfeed?
~Paws, Claws and Chaos~
A/N: I hope this is okay I wrote this in like ten minutes so hopefully it's good and what you hoped for
---
Pairing:
SEVENTEEN (OG7 crush-line) x Yn (Heartbroke Leader) & Male Idol Bestie
Tags:
Fluff, Jealousy, Group Chaos, Idol Dynamics, Humor, Crack Energy, Soft Moments, Friendship
Summary:
Yn films a BuzzFeed-style kitten interview with her guy bestie, Hyunjae. Their playful chemistry is very obviously “best friends on crackhead mode.” Meanwhile, the OG 7 SEVENTEEN members secretly watch from the monitor room… and immediately malfunction with jealousy. Heartbroke sees this, clowns them in 4K, and chaos erupts while Yn stays blissfully unaware cuddling kittens.
Word Count: 4,215
---
The kittens landed on us before the camera even turned on.
One minute Hyunjae and I were testing our mics, the next a staff member dumped a basket of tiny fuzzballs on my lap like I was their biological mother.
Someone squeaked.
Someone tried to climb my sleeve.
Someone immediately took a nap in Hyunjae’s hoodie.
“Yn,” Hyunjae whispered. “One is in your hood.”
“He’s claiming it as property,” I whispered back.
The director called, “Rolling!”
The kittens meowed like an intro theme.
Hyunjae lifted both hands to wave. I waved too.
And behind the double-glass divider?
Seven men experienced jealousy in HD.
---
Sofia leaned forward dramatically.
“Ohhhh they’re sitting TOO close.”
Yena snickered.
“I bet someone’s about to combust.”
Dino — face already scrunched — muttered, “Why is he leaning in like that?”
Joshua whispered, “…They look comfortable.”
Which in Josh-language meant I hate this passionately.
Jun rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“I already feel secondhand heartbreak.”
Minghao crossed his arms.
“This is unnecessary proximity.”
Hoshi pointed with wide eyes.
“GUYS LOOK. A kitten touched her cheek AND HE LAUGHED. OH MY GOD.”
DK clutched his chest.
“No. No no no no.”
Jeonghan calmly sipped his juice.
“She laughs like that with us too.”
Beat.
“…Right?”
Heartbroke burst into giggles.
---
Hyunjae lifted one of the kittens like he was recreating a movie poster.
“Yn. This is your child.”
“We are not sharing custody,” I said.
“You already named them!”
“Speedrun parenting.”
He laughed so loudly the kittens jumped.
Somewhere behind the glass, seven men sat up straighter like they’d heard betrayal.
---
Eunjin leaned in.
“They look like they’re watching their ex fall in love.”
Minghao glared at the screen.
“That smile is too familiar.”
Joshua: “…mhm.”
Dino: “Why is he touching her shoulder.”
Hoshi threw a hand up.
“HE’S FIXING HER HAIR— I REPEAT— HAIR FIXING IS HAPPENING.”
Jun groaned.
“I cannot watch this.”
Jeonghan: “I can. This is entertaining.”
DK: “Hyung."
Jeonghan: “What? I’m enjoying their downfall.”
Heartbroke: screaming laughing noises
---
BACK ON SET
The interviewer held up a card.
“How did your friendship start?”
Hyunjae didn’t even wait.
“She ignored me for two years.”
“I DID NOT IGNORE YOU,” I said, offended.
“You did.”
“You were scary!”
“I am literally as intimidating as a breadstick.”
“You’re tall,” I argued.
“TALL IS NOT A PERSONALITY.”
The kittens squeaked like they agreed with him.
Staff snorted.
Camera guy giggled.
Backstage? Emotional collapse.
---
DK put his head on the table.
“I feel dizzy.”
Minghao narrowed his eyes.
“He’s getting bold.”
Jun sighed.
“When did she get this comfortable with him.”
Dino looked betrayed.
“We are literally right there. We EXIST.”
Hoshi gasped.
“LOOK. LOOK LOOK LOOK. HYUNJAE IS TUCKING HER HAIR BEHIND HER EAR.”
---
The next card:
“Who brings you comfort?”
I answered first.
“My members. Always.”
Hyunjae smiled sideways at me.
“Mine is Yn."
I stared at him.
“…Excuse me?”
“You’re comforting,” he shrugged like he didn’t just commit murder on seven people backstage.
The kittens meowed approvingly.
---
Joshua visibly stopped breathing.
“I’m going down there.”
Jeonghan grabbed his hoodie.
“No you’re not.”
Minghao whispered like he was narrating a documentary.
“Observe. Seven grown men facing feelings they thought they buried.”
Dino pointed.
“NO BECAUSE WHY WOULD HE SAY THAT.”
Jun covered his eyes.
“I cannot watch my downfall live.”
Heartbroke was ACTUALLY crying laughing.
---
The card read:
“If you were a cat, which kitten here would you imprint on?”
Hyunjae pointed without hesitation.
“That one. The one Yn picked.”
“Wow. Simp behavior,” I teased.
“Proud of it.”
Behind the glass?
Seven souls left seven bodies.
---
I stood up. “That was cute.”
Hyunjae scratched his head.
“You know your members and SEVENTEEN are going to tear me apart, right?”
“Yep!”
“You’re not stopping them?”
“Nope!”
He groaned.
“Fake friend.”
“You love me,” I sang.
“Against my will.”
We walked off set bickering like siblings.
Meanwhile…
Behind the door?
Heartbroke with their phones out.
SEVENTEEN standing like an intervention circle.
Seven jealous men ready to interrogate one confused guy.
And me?
Completely clueless.
---
helloooo this is the anon who requested quite cracks. I read ur note and u said u wanted an anon like other writers so I'm hereee
I'll be 🐰 anon if that's okay? I love ur heartbroke x seventeen series I reread it SOOOO much in my free timeee
Omg okay then you are 🐰anon yay!! Im glad you like it so much I'll probably be making this a series depending on how good it does
Pt. 2 to quite cracks? Maybe one where wonwoo is trying his best to be better to yn, even when she breaks down in front of svt
Coming from the same anon who requested quite cracks, can u tell I love angst 😛🤞😍💖
~Quite Cracks pt2~
A/N: this is so fun to write I love it also i kinda wanna do a emoji anon thing that other writers on here do just tell which anon you wanna be and then you are that anon from now on
---
Member & Reader: Wonwoo x Yn
Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Breakdown, Soft Wonwoo, SVT being supportive
Word Count: ~1,560
Summary: Wonwoo has been trying to be better, trying to be softer, trying to show he’s learning. But when I break down in front of all of SEVENTEEN, everything comes spilling out. Wonwoo is determined to be present this time and not overlook the quiet ways I fall apart.
---
The dorm felt different lately. Softer. Like everyone was holding their breath without saying why.
And a lot of that had to do with Wonwoo.
He’d been… trying. Really trying. Reaching out more, lingering more, speaking more. Sometimes he’d text me something simple like “did you eat?” and then send three follow-up messages correcting himself because he didn’t like how blunt the first one sounded.
It wasn’t perfect. But he was trying.
And I saw every attempt.
Even if part of me didn’t know how to trust it yet.
Tonight we were all gathered in the living room, limbs everywhere, cushions stolen, blankets being tugged around like war banners. I sat between Mingyu and Hoshi, pretending I didn’t feel like my bones were made of exhaustion.
Wonwoo kept glancing over at me from across the room. Not obvious. Just… checking.
He didn’t know I noticed every single one.
Seungkwan cracked a joke about how much I’d been working, something like, “Yn’s out here working like ten people at once,” and everyone laughed.
I laughed too.
Except it wasn’t real. It was the kind of laugh that hurts to push out.
Something in my chest snapped right after. Not dramatically. More like a quiet tear that nobody else hears.
I tried breathing through it. Tried ignoring the sting in my eyes. Tried telling myself, not here, not now, not in front of them.
But my body didn’t care.
My breath stuttered. My vision blurred. My throat tightened hard. I covered my face, hoping nobody would notice.
Of course Mingyu noticed first.
“Yn?” he murmured, voice dropping instantly.
The whole room fell silent.
All the laughter evaporated like it had never existed. Everyone looked over. Concern hit me from all sides. And Wonwoo…
God. He went completely still.
I could feel him staring at me, like he was afraid to move, afraid that this was happening, afraid that he’d missed something again.
“Hey… hey, it’s okay,” Hoshi whispered beside me, rubbing my back.
I shook my head, tears spilling through my fingers before I could stop them. My chest was trembling so hard I thought everyone could hear it.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m sorry, I don’t— I’m just tired. I’m so tired.”
Jeonghan stood up like he was about to gently herd everyone out of the room. “Let’s give her some space, yeah? Come on, let—”
“No,” I said quickly, even though my voice shook. “You’re not doing anything wrong. I just… I can’t hold it right now.”
And that was when Wonwoo moved.
He didn’t hesitate. He practically dropped onto the floor right in front of me, knees touching mine, eyes soft and terrified all at once.
“Yn,” he said quietly. “Look at me?”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t let anyone see my face like this. I kept my hands up, breathing hard.
Wonwoo leaned in a little, trying to find my eyes behind my palms.
“You don’t have to pretend around us,” he murmured. “Not around me. Not anymore.”
My breath hitched so sharply it hurt.
Those words landed straight on the bruise I’d been ignoring.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again, even though I didn’t know what I was apologizing for.
Wonwoo shook his head instantly. “You don’t owe me an apology for feeling anything. Ever.”
The others didn’t leave. They stayed, but quiet, warm, ready.
Joshua handed Wonwoo a tissue box.
Mingyu squeezed my shoulder.
Woozi watched me like he’d fight whatever made me cry.
Wonwoo reached out slowly, like I was made of something fragile, placing his hand over mine.
“Let me be here,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m learning. I’m trying. And I want to do this right this time.”
My hands trembled. I finally let them fall just enough for my face to show. And the moment his eyes met mine, something in his expression softened even more.
Not pity.
Not fear.
Just… warmth. A quiet, steady warmth that didn’t flinch.
He lifted a hand, brushing a tear off my cheek with a thumb that shook just slightly.
“I didn’t want you all to see me like this,” I whispered, embarrassment creeping in.
“Then who should see it?” Wonwoo asked softly. “Who’s supposed to hold the heavy parts with you?”
His voice cracked just barely. “You don’t have to be strong in front of us. You definitely don’t have to be strong in front of me.”
The room felt warm and hushed. Like everyone collectively decided to let me feel whatever I needed to feel.
I let out a shaky breath and leaned forward until my forehead touched Wonwoo’s shoulder. Not a full collapse. Just enough to let myself rest.
His hand came up to cradle the back of my head, so gentle it made my throat tighten again.
He held me like I wasn’t a burden.
Like this moment meant something to him too.
Around us, the members stayed close, protective in that silent, unspoken way they always were.
And I felt it.
All of it.
The safety. The worry. The care.
I wasn’t alone.
Not anymore.
And Wonwoo was finally showing up the way I had always needed.
---
Heartbroke x seventeen idea:
A member introduces their gf to heartbroke. Except gf is super mean when said member/all members arent around. Except when confronted, svt brushes it off until one day they hear gf being rude and realize they were in the wrong.
I WANT ME SOME ANGSTTTT 😛😛
~The Quite Cracks~
A/N: I chose wonwoo for this one seeing that I headcanon y/n as best friends with him hope you like it cutie 💓
---
Member & Reader: Wonwoo & Yn
Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Betrayal, Group Strain, Emotional Tension
Summary: Wonwoo introduces his new girlfriend to Heartbroke, excited for them all to get along. But when she reveals a cruel side only when no one else is around, Yn tries to warn the others… and no one believes them. Until the truth slips out where everyone can hear.
Word Count: ~5,300
---
Practice days always felt like a chorus of sneakers squeaking, Yena yelling at speakers, and Jiwoo tripping over absolutely nothing. Today had that same chaotic soundtrack, except with one new voice shaping the atmosphere.
Wonwoo walked in with someone beside him.
His hand hovered at her lower back, that subtle protective gesture he only gave to people he truly cared for. He looked… soft. A little shy. Almost proud.
“Everyone, this is Ara,” he said, brushing his hair behind his ear.
Ara flashed a perfect smile. “I’m so happy to finally meet all of you. Wonwoo always talks about you.”
The girls reacted exactly how you expected.
Sofia dipped into her graceful greeting.
Yena whispered to you, loud enough for everyone to hear, “She’s pretty. Like villain-pretty.”
Jiwoo nodded way too fast. “I love her boots.”
You smiled politely, even if your stomach felt tilted.
Ara’s gaze met yours.
Her smile never faded.
But her eyes? Ice.
Sharp and assessing, like she was measuring you for a problem she already believed you were.
The weird feeling hit you before she had even spoken.
Instinct whispering that something was off.
You ignored it.
You always tried to ignore it.
The boys from SEVENTEEN drifted around too, mingling during the joint rehearsal. Mingyu shot you a grin, bumping your shoulder. Wonwoo introduced Ara to the members one by one, gentle voice warm with pride.
Everything looked perfect from the outside.
And that made the inside feel even worse.
---
You were alone for barely thirty seconds.
Just grabbing your water bottle from the hallway.
Ara followed you out like a shadow with heels.
“You must be Yn,” she said, sweet tone dripping with syrup.
“Yeah,” you answered slowly. “Nice to meet you.”
Her smile fell off her face like someone ripped the string holding it.
“Let’s get something straight,” she murmured. “You stay in your lane. I don’t care how close you think you are to Wonwoo. You don’t get to hover around him like some talentless background extra.”
You actually laughed. Shocked. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” She took a half-step closer. “I don’t care what dynamic you and the group have. I don’t care about your fans’ delusions. He’s mine. And unlike you, I earned that.”
Your throat tightened. “You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t need to.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I just need you to understand your place.”
And then, as if someone snapped their fingers behind her, she put the smile back on.
“Oh, Yn! Found your bottle? Let’s head back in, yeah?”
You stared at her.
She giggled.
You felt nauseous.
Something inside you already knew this wasn’t going to end easily.
---
It got worse.
Fast.
The comments began slipping out any time the others weren’t around.
Backstage.
Hallways.
Dress rooms.
Walking to the van.
“Your makeup looks uneven today. I guess cameras will fix that.”
“Cute that you try so hard. Really.”
“No wonder Wonwoo pities you.”
“Why do you hover around him? It’s pathetic.”
“You should try a different career. Something where no one actually looks at you.”
Every word was like a pin shoved under your skin. Individually small but stacked together until every breath felt tight.
You started avoiding being alone with her.
But she always seemed to find you.
And she always acted like a saint when someone else walked by.
Smiling.
Complimenting you.
Giggling like you were best friends.
The others liked her.
That made everything worse.
---
One night, after a long rehearsal, the weight snapped.
You told the girls everything.
Yena froze mid-unwrapping a protein bar. “…What do you mean she said you’re pathetic?”
“That’s word for word,” you muttered, pulling your knees up. “She’s… different when you’re not around.”
Sofia sat beside you immediately. “Yn, sweetie… are you sure? I’m not saying you’re lying, but Ara doesn’t seem like—”
“That’s the point,” you said, voice cracking. “She hides it.”
Yeosin bit her lip. “Maybe she’s just awkward?”
Jiwoo flopped onto her stomach. “This is hard because she’s nice to us… but if you’re uncomfortable, we believe that. We just… need context. Something.”
You hated how it felt like begging for validation.
“I know how it sounds,” you whispered. “But I promise I’m not making this up.”
Yena wrapped her arm around you.
“We’re not calling you a liar. We’re just saying if we confront Wonwoo, he’ll need something solid. He’s blind when he’s loyal.”
You knew they were right.
It still broke something in you.
---
You didn’t want to tell Wonwoo.
You really didn’t.
But the comments kept coming.
And one day Ara actually nudged your shoulder harder than necessary, smirking like she wanted to see you fall.
That night, you pulled Wonwoo aside after practice.
His eyes softened the moment he saw your expression. “Yn? What’s wrong?”
You took a slow breath. “It’s about Ara.”
He blinked, confused and a little worried. “Did she say something?”
“She… she’s not nice to me, Wonwoo.”
There. Said. Barely.
Your voice trembled. “When you’re not around, she says really cruel things.”
His face didn’t twist in anger or shock.
It twisted in disbelief.
Gentle disbelief, but disbelief anyway.
“Yn…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ara’s not like that.”
“She is,” you insisted softly. “Please, I wouldn’t lie—”
“I know you wouldn’t.” He stepped closer, trying to soothe the situation with warmth rather than logic. “But maybe you misunderstood? Ara told me she feels like you avoid her. She thought she did something wrong.”
Your heart dropped.
Hard.
“She said that?” you whispered.
“She was worried.” His voice was too calm. Too trusting. “I think you both just need more time.”
You stared at him.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t question further.
You swallowed. “So… you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you’re upset,” he said quietly. “But Ara isn’t like that.”
The finality in his tone made your chest ache.
You nodded, even though your entire body wanted to scream.
“Okay,” you whispered.
He touched your arm gently.
But it didn’t comfort you.
It felt like getting bandaged after being stabbed with the same hand.
---
Everything spiraled quietly after that.
You stayed silent.
Ara didn’t.
She escalated.
“You’re embarrassing. Did Wonwoo tell you that you’re clingy?”
“Girls like you are replaceable.”
“Wonwoo is finally happy and you can’t handle it.”
“You want him. Everyone can tell.”
“You’re so obvious. It’s pathetic.”
Her voice was crisp and cruel, slicing with precision every time you were alone.
You started to flinch when you heard heels behind you.
Started avoiding eye contact with Wonwoo, too hurt to look at him without remembering he didn’t listen.
The girls noticed.
But you brushed everything off.
Until the night everything snapped clean in half.
---
You finished your rehearsal section early and stepped offstage to grab water.
The hallway was mostly empty.
Faint echoes of the music boomed from the stage.
Ara slipped out of nowhere, blocking your path.
“There you are,” she said, stepping closer. “You really don’t get the hint, do you? You keep clinging to him.”
“I’m not clinging to anyone,” you muttered.
“That’s not what everyone sees.” She smirked. “You look desperate. You think you have a chance with him? Please. He’s with me. Someone actually worth something.”
Your blood went ice cold.
She wasn’t even pretending anymore.
“Wonwoo trusts me,” she continued, voice dripping venom. “He’d never believe you over me. That’s the best part.”
Something behind you shifted.
But Ara didn’t notice.
“You’re pathetic,” she hissed. “A useless, attention-hungry—”
“Enough.”
The voice wasn’t yours.
Ara froze.
Because behind you stood Wonwoo.
Not alone.
Seungcheol.
Mingyu.
Jun.
Yena.
Sofia.
Jiwoo.
Eunjin.
Yeosin.
Everyone.
You didn’t know how long they’d been there.
But the silence told you they heard everything.
Ara’s face drained of color.
Then flushed in panic.
“Wonwoo, I—she provoked me—this isn’t what it looks like—”
Mingyu stepped forward, fury radiating off him. “Looked pretty clear to me.”
Yena scoffed. “You played the wrong game with the wrong person.”
Sofia crossed her arms. “You’ve been lying this whole time.”
Ara’s eyes darted desperately to Wonwoo.
“Baby, you know me. You know I wouldn’t—”
But Wonwoo wasn’t looking at her like a boyfriend.
He was looking at her like a stranger.
His expression was shattered calm.
“Ara,” he said quietly. “You lied to me. You lied about Yn. You hurt her. And you made me doubt someone who has never once betrayed me.”
Ara reached out to him, shaking. “Wonwoo, please—”
He stepped back.
And that broke her completely.
“You’re choosing her over me?” she snapped, voice cracking. “She’s obsessed with you! Everyone sees it!”
Wonwoo’s voice dropped to something cold.
“I’m choosing the truth.”
Ara stared, trembling, then stormed out, shoes echoing sharp and uneven down the hallway.
Silence settled again.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
You felt your knees weaken.
Your breath hitched.
Not relieved.
Not yet.
Just exhausted.
Wonwoo turned toward you slowly, eyes softening in a way that made your chest ache even more.
“Yn…” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
You looked at him, tears threatening. “I tried to tell you.”
“I know.” His voice cracked. “And I didn’t listen. I should have. I should’ve trusted you.”
You shook your head weakly. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not.” He stepped closer. “You were hurting. And I failed you.”
Your throat tightened painfully. “I didn’t want to fight with you.”
“Me neither.” He reached out, hesitated, then gently touched your sleeve like he was asking permission to stay close. “Let me fix this. Let me earn your trust back.”
Your lips trembled. But you nodded.
The girls pulled you into a chaotic, overwhelming hug.
Mingyu squeezed your shoulder protectively.
Sofia whispered, “You’re safe now.”
Wonwoo stayed close.
Close enough to protect.
Close enough to apologize without words.
Close enough that you realized something:
It wasn’t just his girlfriend who cracked something.
It was him.
And now he was trying to build it back with shaking hands.
---
Hii cute, i have a request, if you are comfortabe writing about this, my idea is one nigth stand whit Seungcheol, and the ting is that the reader has nipple piercing and if you are comfortabe enough clit pearcing too.
~Unexpected~
A\N: I love this idea it's so fun I kinda wanna get a piercing too
Member & reader: Seungcheol × Reader
Tags: Smut, Crack, Fluff
Summary: You have a one night stand with a very charming man and he finds out you have piercings in unexpected places
---
The taxi’s headlights carved fleeting paths across Seungcheol’s window as I stepped onto his porch. A nervous tremor danced through me, a mix of anticipation and the chill night air. He pulled the door open, a soft smile playing on his lips, the kind that promised trouble and tenderness in equal measure.
"Hey," he murmured, his voice a low thrum against the quiet. He reached out, his fingers brushing my arm, a spark jumping between us. "Come in. It's cold out."
Inside, the air held the faint scent of his cologne, a warm, inviting musk. Music, a slow R&B beat, pulsed softly from invisible speakers. He led me to the couch, his hand still on my arm, his touch lingering.
"Drink?" he asked, his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, searching mine.
"Please," I managed, my voice a little breathless. He returned with two glasses of amber liquid, the ice clinking softly. We talked, light and easy, about nothing and everything, but the undercurrent of unspoken desire hummed between us, growing louder with every shared glance.
He leaned closer, his knee brushing mine, and the casual touch sent a jolt through my core. "You know why you're here, don't you?" His voice was a whisper, a warm breath against my ear.
I swallowed, a dry catch in my throat. "I think so."
His hand found my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. "Good." He lowered his head, his lips soft at first, then demanding, claiming mine. My own lips parted willingly, inviting his tongue. It swirled against mine, tasting of whiskey and something uniquely him. A low moan escaped my throat as his fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer still.
His lips trailed down my neck, sending shivers through me. He found the hollow of my collarbone, his mouth warm, wet. My hands, almost without conscious thought, went to the hem of his shirt, pulling it free from his jeans. His muscles flexed under my touch as I pushed the fabric up, over his head, revealing the expanse of his chest.
"You're beautiful," he breathed, his eyes wide as he looked at me, then down at my simple camisole. His gaze lingered on the fabric, and a knowing smile touched his lips. He unfastened the tiny buttons of my top, one by one, each click echoing in the sudden silence. The thin material parted, revealing the delicate lace of my bra, and then, the glint of silver.
His eyes widened further, a soft gasp escaping him. "Oh, *wow*." His fingers, gentle and reverent, traced the curve of my breast, then brushed the small, metallic ring piercing my nipple. A delicious shiver ran through me, my breath catching. "You didn't tell me."
"Surprise," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste the cool metal, then my sensitive skin around it. A wave of intense pleasure washed over me, my back arching. He suckled, his mouth hot and wet around my nipple, the ring a thrilling friction against his tongue, against the roof of his mouth. A soft, squelching sound filled the air as he devoured me, his lips tugging, creating a vacuum that pulled my nipple deeper into his mouth.
My fingers gripped his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. My hips began to move, a slow, unconscious grind against the couch cushion. He moved to the other breast, repeating the exquisite torture, his hands roaming my body, finding the waistband of my jeans. He unzipped them, his fingers slipping inside, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
"Are there more surprises?" he murmured against my skin, his voice thick with desire. His fingers dipped lower, past the lace of my underwear, and then, he found it. The small, delicate ring glinting between my folds.
"Mmm," I hummed, a shudder rocking my body. His fingers brushed against it, sending a jolt straight to my core. "Yes."
He groaned, a deep, guttural sound, his fingers pressing lightly against the clit piercing. "You're incredible." He slipped a finger inside me, slick with my own wetness, then another, slowly stretching me, preparing me. My hips bucked, a desperate need building.
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his own dark with passion. "Can I?"
"Please," I begged, my voice raw.
He pushed into me, a slow, deliberate invasion. A gasp tore from my lips, a mix of pain and pure, unadulterated pleasure. The clit piercing pressed against his shaft, a constant, thrilling friction. He started to move, a slow, powerful rhythm, each thrust sending me higher, closer to the edge. The bed creaked under our combined weight as we moved from the couch to the bedroom, his body a heavy, delicious weight on mine.
"Fuck," he grunted, his breath ragged, his balls slapping against my ass with each deep plunge. The shlicking sound of our bodies joining, wet and urgent, filled the room. He whispered my name, his lips tracing my ear, his hips grinding, faster, harder. My nails dug into his back, leaving red crescents on his skin. I screamed, a long, drawn-out cry as my body convulsed around him, waves of pleasure washing over me. He followed moments later, a deep groan escaping him as he spilled himself inside me, hot and thick.
We lay tangled together, breathless, skin slick with sweat. His arm, heavy and comforting, lay across my waist. The soft music still played, a gentle lullaby now.
"That wasn't just a surprise," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. "That was... everything."
I turned my head, meeting his gaze. A soft smile touched my lips. "Good." The night was still young, and the promise of dawn felt a million miles away.
---
Uh, hi! I hope you are doing great♡
I really like all your works! Was wondering (if you are not uncomfortable, of course) if it would be okay to ask for a trope with Seungcheol being a dilf, like the best friend of reader's dad? A little plot of how they get involved; With age gap, size kink, praise and, hm. I dunno, whatever else you want! Absksks.
Thank uuuu
~Dad's best friend~
A/N: this one's pretty long let me know if there's any mistakes on this one I was a bit lacky because I haven't been writing for so long now
/ Seungcheol x Reader/ MDNI 18+/
/ Age gap, smut, pet names, lots and lots of sex/
---
The scent of Dad’s familiar aftershave, a blend of cedar and something sharp, usually meant comfort. Tonight, it felt like a prelude to something else entirely, something that hummed beneath my skin. Seungcheol, his best friend, stood in our living room, the late afternoon sun slanting through the bay window, catching the silver in his dark hair. He wasn’t just Dad’s friend; he was a force, a quiet strength that always seemed to fill a room without demanding attention. His laugh, deep and rumbling, always made me smile. His eyes, dark and knowing, often lingered on me a beat too long, a subtle warmth I’d learned to crave.
Dad clapped him on the shoulder, a sound that echoed through the otherwise still house. “Cheol, you made it! I told you, my girl makes the best damn lasagna in the state.”
A flush crept up my neck, a familiar heat whenever Seungcheol was around, especially when Dad praised me in front of him. He turned, a slow smile spreading across his lips, and his gaze met mine. It was a soft, indulgent look that made my stomach flutter.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, his voice a low rumble that always sent a shiver down my spine. “Especially not for your daughter’s cooking.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, a network of fine lines that only added to his rugged charm. He was wearing a dark blue button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle, a stark contrast to Dad’s softer, more relaxed frame.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” I managed, my voice a little breathy. I tightened my grip on the oven mitts I still wore, feeling the heat from the kitchen radiating through them. “Just finishing up the garlic bread.”
“Perfect timing, then,” Dad boomed, heading towards the kitchen. “I’ll grab us some beers. Cheol, make yourself comfortable.”
Seungcheol’s eyes followed Dad for a moment, then returned to me, a silent question in their depths. He leaned against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the space. The air thickened between us, charged with an unspoken current.
“You always were a good cook,” he murmured, his voice softer now, meant only for me. “I remember you making those terrible mud pies in the backyard when you were little. Look at you now, a gourmet chef.”
I laughed, a genuine, unforced sound. “They weren’t mud pies, they were ‘earth cakes,’ and they were delicious.” I pushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, feeling the blush deepen. “You always pretended to like them, even when they were mostly dirt.”
He chuckled, a rich, warm sound. “Well, I knew a good thing when I saw it. Even then.” His gaze dropped to my lips, lingered, then flicked back to my eyes. The intensity in his look was almost overwhelming.
My heart hammered against my ribs. This wasn’t new. These stolen moments, these charged glances, had been building for months, maybe even years. Ever since I’d grown out of the awkward teenage phase and into my own skin, I’d noticed the shift in his attention. It was subtle, respectful, but undeniably there. And I, foolishly or not, had encouraged it with my own lingering looks, my eager smiles.
“So, what’s new with you, kiddo?” Dad’s voice cut through the burgeoning tension as he reappeared, two frosty beer bottles in hand. He offered one to Seungcheol, who took it with a grateful nod, his eyes still holding mine for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
“Just work,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Same old, same old. Though I did get that promotion I was telling you about.”
“See, Cheol? My girl’s going places,” Dad beamed, pride shining in his eyes. He missed the way Seungcheol’s gaze softened further, a quiet admiration replacing the earlier heat.
“That’s fantastic,” Seungcheol said, taking a long swig of his beer. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I knew you would. You’ve always been driven.”
Dinner was a blur of laughter and storytelling. Dad recounted old college anecdotes, Seungcheol adding details and punchlines I’d never heard before. I watched him, captivated by the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, the way his strong hands gestured as he spoke. He was a man who lived fully, who felt deeply, and who carried his years with a grace that only enhanced his appeal. Every time his gaze found mine across the table, a spark ignited, a silent conversation passing between us that Dad, thankfully, was oblivious to.
After the lasagna was devoured and the last of the garlic bread disappeared, Dad slumped back in his chair, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “That was phenomenal, honey. Absolutely phenomenal.”
“She’s a keeper, your daughter,” Seungcheol added, a sly grin playing on his lips as he met my eyes. He winked, a quick, almost imperceptible gesture that made my breath catch.
My cheeks burned. “Glad you enjoyed it.” I started clearing the plates, desperate for a moment to compose myself.
“Don’t you worry about that, sweetie,” Dad waved a dismissive hand. “Cheol and I can handle the cleanup. Go relax.”
“Nonsense,” Seungcheol stood, his height suddenly dominating the kitchen. “I’ll help. You cooked, it’s only fair.” He began stacking plates with an efficiency that surprised me, his movements strong and deliberate.
Dad, ever the easygoing one, didn’t argue. He just settled deeper into his chair, already half-asleep. “Alright, alright. Don’t break anything, you two.” His voice was muffled by a yawn.
The kitchen suddenly felt very small with Seungcheol beside me. The scent of him, a mix of his cologne and something uniquely masculine, enveloped me. Our hands brushed as we reached for the same glass, a jolt of electricity shooting up my arm. He pulled his hand back, a soft apology in his eyes, but the contact lingered on my skin.
“You really outdid yourself tonight,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he loaded the dishwasher. The hum of the machine filled the silence, a rhythmic thrum that seemed to amplify the tension between us.
“I wanted to make sure it was perfect,” I admitted, my voice equally low. I moved to wipe down the counter, my back to him, my fingers tracing patterns on the cool Formica.
“It was,” he confirmed, his voice closer now. I felt his presence behind me, the warmth of his body radiating against my back. “More than perfect.”
A shiver ran through me. I turned slowly, finding him closer than I expected. His eyes, those dark, knowing eyes, held mine. The air crackled. The dishwasher’s hum faded into the background. All I could hear was the frantic beat of my own heart.
“Seungcheol,” I breathed, the name a fragile whisper.
He reached out, his large hand gently cupping my jaw. His thumb stroked my skin, a feather-light touch that sent tremors through my entire body. His gaze dropped to my lips again, and this time, it stayed.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with an emotion I recognized, a hunger that mirrored my own.
My lips parted on a silent gasp. I leaned into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed for a moment. The world outside our small circle ceased to exist. It was just us, the quiet hum of the dishwasher, and the unbearable intensity of his gaze.
He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to pull away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. My body ached for his touch, for the culmination of all these months of stolen glances and unspoken desires. His breath, warm and tasting faintly of beer and garlic bread, ghosted over my lips. Then, his mouth was on mine.
It was soft at first, a tentative exploration, a question. I answered with an eager tilt of my head, a desperate sigh that escaped into his mouth. His lips were firm, warm, tasting of everything I’d imagined and more. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, asking for entry. I granted it willingly, my own tongue meeting his, a dance of tentative exploration that quickly escalated into something more fervent.
His hand moved from my jaw, trailing down my neck, sending goosebumps in its wake, before settling firmly on the small of my back, pulling me flush against his hard body. I gasped into his mouth, feeling the undeniable press of his erection against my stomach. A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating against my lips.
My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer still, my body molding against his. The age gap, the fact that he was my father’s best friend, all of it vanished in the searing heat of his kiss, in the intoxicating scent of him. All that mattered was this moment, this connection, this raw, undeniable desire.
He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, both of us breathless. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, searched mine.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice husky, laced with a tenderness that made my knees weak.
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” I breathed, my voice barely audible. “So sure.”
He didn’t need any more encouragement. He scooped me up into his arms with surprising ease, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. I let out a surprised squeal that ended in a muffled laugh against his neck. He carried me out of the kitchen, past the living room where Dad was now snoring softly in his armchair, and towards my bedroom. The house was quiet, save for the thumping of my heart and the soft padding of his footsteps.
He kicked my bedroom door shut with his foot, the soft click echoing in the sudden silence. He lowered me gently to the floor, but kept me pressed against him, his hands still firm on my waist. His eyes, still dark with desire, roamed over my face, drinking me in.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he confessed, his voice a low growl.
My fingers traced the strong line of his jaw. “I think I might,” I whispered, my gaze dropping to his mouth, still swollen from our kiss.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, more urgent, less questioning. It was a kiss that devoured, that claimed. His tongue plunged into my mouth, swirling and dancing with mine, a passionate battle for dominance that left me breathless and aching. His hands, still on my waist, began to move, slowly tracing the curve of my hips, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. I could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my core, a promise of what was to come.
My own body responded with a fierce urgency. A warm, wet heat blossomed between my legs, a desperate throb that demanded relief. I arched into him, pressing my hips against his, silently begging for more.
He groaned into my mouth, a deep, guttural sound that sent shivers of pleasure through me. He broke the kiss, his mouth trailing down my jaw, along my neck, his hot breath raising goosebumps on my skin. He found the sensitive hollow at the base of my throat, suckling gently, and I cried out softly, my head falling back against his shoulder.
“God, you taste so good,” he murmured against my skin, his words a dizzying whisper.
His hands moved to the hem of my shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of my stomach, sending a fresh wave of heat through me. He slowly, deliberately, pulled my shirt up and over my head, his eyes never leaving mine. I shivered as the cool air hit my skin, but the heat from his gaze quickly warmed me. I stood before him in just my bra, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
His eyes devoured me, a slow, appreciative gaze that made my nipples harden under the lace. He reached out, his large hands cupping my breasts, his thumbs gently brushing over my aching nipples. A soft moan escaped my lips, and I leaned into his touch, my body humming with anticipation.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He leaned down, his mouth closing over one of my nipples, suckling gently through the lace. A sharp gasp tore from my throat, and I arched my back, pressing myself more firmly into his mouth. He continued to tease, his tongue flicking and swirling, sending delicious tingles through my entire being.
He slowly unhooked my bra, his fingers surprisingly nimble. The lace fell away, revealing my breasts in their full glory. He straightened, his eyes lingering on them, before he lowered his head once more, his hot mouth closing over a nipple. This time, there was no lace barrier. His tongue swirled around the peak, tugging and teasing, sending electric shocks directly to my core. I gripped his hair, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling him closer, deeper.
“Please,” I whimpered, my voice raw with need. “Seungcheol, please.”
He moved to the other nipple, giving it the same exquisite attention, suckling and licking until it stood rigid and aching. My hips began to move instinctively, a slow, grinding motion against his hard cock, desperate for contact.
He pulled back, his eyes dark with a hunger that mirrored my own. He reached for the button of my jeans, his fingers fumbling slightly in his urgency. I helped him, my own hands trembling as I unzipped them. He pushed them down, along with my underwear, and I stepped out of them, standing before him completely naked.
His gaze swept over my body, lingering on my thighs, my hips, the dark triangle between my legs. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he reached out, his fingers gently parting my lips, revealing the glistening wetness within.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers through me. He dipped a finger into my pussy, swirling it around, and I gasped, my knees threatening to buckle. “So incredibly wet.”
He then reached for his own clothes. His movements were swift and sure. The dark blue shirt came off first, revealing a broad, muscular chest covered in a smattering of dark hair. Then his belt, the buckle jingling softly, followed by his jeans. He kicked them off, and I found myself staring at him, utterly mesmerized.
He was magnificent. His cock, thick and long, stood proudly erect, a dark vein pulsing along its length. His balls, heavy and full, nestled beneath it. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. He was even bigger than I had imagined, a true testament to the size kink I harbored.
He walked towards me, his eyes never leaving mine, and pulled me into his embrace. The feel of his naked skin against mine was electrifying. His hard cock pressed against my belly, its heat seeping into my core.
“Lie down,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.
I followed his unspoken command, sinking onto my bed. He followed, hovering over me, his eyes still devouring every inch of my body. He kissed me then, a long, deep kiss that tasted of desire and promise. His hand found its way between my legs, his fingers stroking my clit, circling it with exquisite precision.
“Oh, God,” I moaned, my hips arching off the bed. The pleasure was intense, building rapidly.
He chuckled, a low, throaty sound. “Ready for me, sweetheart?”
I nodded frantically, unable to form words.
He positioned himself between my legs, his cock pressing against my wet entrance. He pushed slowly, agonizingly slowly, his eyes locked on mine. I gasped as the tip of his head stretched me, a delicious pressure building.
“So tight,” he murmured, his voice thick with effort. “So damn tight.”
He pushed again, a little deeper this time, and I cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure. My body stretched around him, accommodating his impressive girth. He paused, letting me adjust, letting my body accept him.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he praised, his voice a low rumble. “Just relax for me.”
I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to relax my muscles. He pushed again, a slow, deliberate thrust, and this time, he slid in completely, filling me completely. A guttural moan escaped his lips, and I cried out, a sharp, piercing sound that was half pleasure, half shock. He was so big, so utterly full inside me.
“Fuck,” he gasped, his body trembling above mine. “You feel incredible.”
He didn’t move for a moment, just let us both adjust to the glorious fullness, the exquisite pressure. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting every inch of him.
Then, he began to move. Slow, deep thrusts that sent waves of pleasure through my entire being. Each time he pulled out, almost completely, and then plunged back in, my pussy gripped him tightly, milking him with every movement. The sounds of our bodies slapping together, the wet shlicking, filled the room, a rhythmic symphony of pure lust.
“Oh, God, Seungcheol,” I whimpered, my voice breaking. “More. Harder.”
He obeyed, his thrusts growing more powerful, more urgent. His balls slapped against my ass with each deep plunge, a delicious thud that only intensified my pleasure. I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin, lost in the rhythm of our mating dance.
He leaned down, his mouth finding mine in a brutal, passionate kiss, his tongue mirroring the thrusts of his cock within me. I tasted myself on his lips, a salty, sweet mix of desire and sweat.
He pulled back, his eyes blazing with a primal hunger. “You’re so good, baby girl,” he praised, his voice rough. “So incredibly good.”
His words, those words of praise, sent a fresh wave of arousal through me. I arched my back, grinding my hips against his, begging for more. The friction of his cock rubbing against my G-spot was almost unbearable, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
My body began to tremble, a delicious tension building in my core. I could feel the orgasm coiling within me, a tight spring ready to unleash.
“I’m close,” I whimpered, my voice tight with impending release. “So close.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. “Let go, baby. Let it all go.”
He thrust deeper, harder, his pace relentless. My vision swam, lights bursting behind my eyelids. A powerful shiver wracked my body, and then, the orgasm hit. It was a violent, shattering explosion of pleasure that ripped through me, sending tremors through every nerve ending. My body convulsed around his cock, squeezing him tight, milking him dry. I screamed, a long, drawn-out cry of pure ecstasy, my back arching off the bed.
He groaned, a deep, guttural sound as my contractions milked him. He buried his face in my neck, his body tensing, and then, with a powerful groan, he came, a hot gush of cum filling me to overflowing. He shuddered, his muscles clenching, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
We lay there for a long moment, tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths slowly evening out. His weight was heavy and comforting on me, his cock still throbbing deep inside me.
He eventually shifted, pulling out slowly, and I felt a pang of loss at the sudden emptiness. The soft squelch of his withdrawal echoed in the quiet room. He rolled onto his side, pulling me against him, my head resting on his chest. His arm wrapped around me, holding me tight.
“God, you were incredible,” he whispered, his voice still hoarse. He kissed the top of my head, a tender, possessive gesture.
I snuggled closer, tracing patterns on his chest with my fingers. “You too,” I murmured, my voice thick with sleepiness and contentment. “More than incredible.”
We lay there for a long time, listening to the quiet sounds of the house, the faint snores from Dad’s armchair still audible. The intimacy of the moment, the shared vulnerability, felt even more profound than the raw passion that had preceded it.
“We probably shouldn’t have done that,” I whispered, a small smile playing on my lips.
He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “Probably not.” He tightened his arm around me. “But I don’t regret a single second of it.”
I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his. The desire was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was mixed with something else, something deeper and more tender.
“Me neither,” I admitted, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.
The next morning, the smell of coffee filled the house. I woke up alone in my bed, a faint ache between my legs, a lingering warmth in my core. For a moment, I wondered if it had all been a dream, a vivid fantasy. Then I saw the small, crumpled note on my bedside table.
*‘Couldn’t stay. Dad was stirring. But I’ll be back. Soon. S.’*
A thrill shot through me. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. And it was just the beginning.
I walked into the kitchen, trying to appear nonchalant, as if I hadn’t just had the most mind-blowing night of my life with my father’s best friend. Dad sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, a newspaper spread before him.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greeted, looking up with a smile. “Seungcheol had to take off early. Said he had an important meeting.”
My heart did a little flip-flop. “Oh, really?” I tried to sound casual, reaching for a mug.
“Yeah, something about a big client,” Dad shrugged, oblivious. “He still raved about your lasagna, though. Said you should open a restaurant.”
I smiled, a genuine, secret smile. He’d raved about more than just the lasagna.
The days that followed were a delicious dance of stolen glances and hushed whispers. Seungcheol found excuses to be at our house more often, always under the guise of visiting Dad. But his eyes, those dark, knowing eyes, always found mine, a silent promise passing between us.
One afternoon, a week later, Dad was out running errands. Seungcheol came over, ostensibly to help Dad fix a leaky faucet, but I knew the real reason. The moment Dad’s car pulled out of the driveway, the air in the house changed.
He found me in the living room, pretending to read a book. He leaned against the doorframe, just as he had before, that slow smile playing on his lips.
“Your dad’s gone, huh?” he asked, his voice a low purr.
I looked up, my heart already hammering. “Looks like it.”
He walked towards me, his eyes never leaving mine. He sat on the armrest of the couch, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from my face. His touch sent shivers down my spine, just as it always did.
“Miss me?” he whispered, his thumb stroking my cheek.
“Terribly,” I admitted, my voice a little shaky.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, a feather-light touch that promised so much more. “Good,” he murmured against my mouth. “Because I’ve been thinking about you all week. About this.”
He kissed me then, a slow, lingering kiss that deepened with each passing second. His hand moved from my cheek, trailing down my neck, along my collarbone, before settling on my breast. He squeezed gently, and a soft moan escaped my lips.
“Let’s go to your room,” he suggested, his voice thick with desire.
I nodded, already rising, my hand finding his, our fingers intertwining. We walked hand-in-hand to my bedroom, the silence between us charged with anticipation.
This time, there was no hesitation, no tentative exploration. The moment the door clicked shut, we were in each other’s arms, our mouths locked in a desperate kiss. His hands were everywhere, pulling at my clothes, eager to shed the barriers between us. I reciprocated, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine.
His shirt came off first, then mine, tossed carelessly to the floor. He lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist, and carried me to the bed. We tumbled onto the soft mattress, a tangle of limbs and hungry mouths.
He kissed his way down my neck, along my collarbone, his tongue tracing the hollows and curves of my body. My bra and jeans quickly followed, discarded in a heap beside the bed. I lay naked beneath him, my body aching for his touch, for the feel of him inside me once more.
He paused, his eyes sweeping over my body, a possessive gleam in their depths. “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion.
He unzipped his pants, his cock springing free, already hard and pulsing. It was as impressive as I remembered, perhaps even more so now that I knew the pleasure it could bring.
He leaned down, his mouth finding my clit, and I gasped, my body arching off the bed. His tongue was hot and skillful, swirling and flicking, sending waves of intense pleasure through me. I gripped his hair, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling him closer, deeper into my core.
“Oh, God, Seungcheol,” I whimpered, the pleasure building rapidly. “Don’t stop.”
He continued his exquisite torture, his tongue working magic on my clit, until my body was trembling, on the verge of orgasm. Just as I felt the climax approaching, he pulled away, leaving me gasping and aching.
He positioned himself between my legs, his cock pressing against my slick pussy. He entered me slowly, deliberately, his eyes locked on mine. The glorious fullness returned, stretching me, filling me completely. I cried out, a soft, breathless sound, as he slid home.
“You’re so tight,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “So wet for me.”
He began to thrust, slow and deep at first, then picking up pace, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through me. The wet shlicking sounds of our bodies intertwining filled the room, a rhythmic symphony of pure lust. My hips rose to meet his, matching his rhythm, desperate for more.
“Harder,” I begged, my voice raw with need. “Please, harder.”
He obeyed, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more urgent. His balls slapped against my ass with each deep plunge, a delicious thud that only intensified my pleasure. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting every inch of him.
He leaned down, his mouth finding mine in a brutal, passionate kiss, his tongue mirroring the thrusts of his cock within me. I tasted myself on his lips, a salty, sweet mix of desire and sweat.
He pulled back, his eyes blazing with a primal hunger. “You’re so good, baby girl,” he praised, his voice rough. “So incredibly good. My good girl.”
His words, those words of praise, sent a fresh wave of arousal through me. I arched my back, grinding my hips against his, begging for more. The friction of his cock rubbing against my G-spot was almost unbearable, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
My body began to tremble, a delicious tension building in my core. I could feel the orgasm coiling within me, a tight spring ready to unleash.
“I’m close,” I whimpered, my voice tight with impending release. “So close.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. “Let go, baby. Let it all go for me.”
He thrust deeper, harder, his pace relentless. My vision swam, lights bursting behind my eyelids. A powerful shiver wracked my body, and then, the orgasm hit. It was a violent, shattering explosion of pleasure that ripped through me, sending tremors through every nerve ending. My body convulsed around his cock, squeezing him tight, milking him dry. I screamed, a long, drawn-out cry of pure ecstasy, my back arching off the bed.
He groaned, a deep, guttural sound as my contractions milked him. He buried his face in my neck, his body tensing, and then, with a powerful groan, he came, a hot gush of cum filling me to overflowing. He shuddered, his muscles clenching, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
We lay there for a long moment, tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths slowly evening out. His weight was heavy and comforting on me, his cock still throbbing deep inside me.
He eventually shifted, pulling out slowly, and I felt a pang of loss at the sudden emptiness. The soft squelch of his withdrawal echoed in the quiet room. He rolled onto his side, pulling me against him, my head resting on his chest. His arm wrapped around me, holding me tight.
“God, you were incredible,” he whispered, his voice still hoarse. He kissed the top of my head, a tender, possessive gesture.
I snuggled closer, tracing patterns on his chest with my fingers. “You too,” I murmured, my voice thick with sleepiness and contentment. “More than incredible.”
We lay there for a long time, listening to the quiet sounds of the house. The intimacy of the moment, the shared vulnerability, felt even more profound than the raw passion that had preceded it.
“What are we going to do?” I whispered, the question hanging in the air.
He tightened his arm around me. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmured, his voice full of conviction. “Together.” He kissed my forehead, a tender, reassuring gesture. “For now, let’s just be here.”
And so, we were. Lost in the quiet aftermath, in the warmth of each other’s embrace, the world outside our bedroom door a distant, unimportant hum. This was our secret, our stolen moments, and for now, it was enough. The risk was immense, the consequences potentially devastating, but in his arms, none of that mattered. Only the intoxicating thrill of forbidden love, of a desire that had finally found its release, and the promise of more to come.
