boycosmics

It'd been so long since you felt his fingers in you, or sucked him off, or even kissed him. Two weeks, yes – but when it came to Sungjin, even one day without his touch had you experiencing withdrawals.

So when he walked into the apartment, you jolted awake and ran over to give him a hug; he was dressed in a simple suit but you couldv'e sworn he had gotten more handsome in the past two weeks.

You relaxed completely as soon as you felt his arms around you, one of his hands coming to stroke your hair like it always did. You loved that little habit he had whenever he hugged you. "Hey, sweetheart," you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Sungjin, god, I missed you so much," you warbled into his chest, taking in his warmth, hugging him tighter.

"I know, I know, me too..." he cooed, closing the door with his foot for privacy.

After a minute or two, Sungjin kissed the top of your head as he tried to pull away, but you didn't move. You felt more than heard the deep chuckle that came from him, before he said, "I'm all yours, baby. Just let me freshen up and I'll be with you in five minutes."

You reluctantly let him go into the bathroom, knowing that he couldn't fully relax till he was clean. You could appreciate that about him.

After five agonising minutes, Sungjin emerged in all his wet-haired glory, wearing a loose shirt and shorts. It was embarrassing how turned on you were, but who could blame you? You watched as he shook a towel on his hair and put his used clothes in the laundry basket. You admired his legs and strong arms, the way his shirt spiked slightly as he dried his hair and, well, everything about him. He was so, so classically handsome, and you were beginning to crave him more and more.

He walked over to the sofa, where you were sitting, but you decided to stand up and meet him halfway instead, catching his amused face before you tiptoed to kiss him. Your hands roamed over his chest and torso, desperate to be closer to him. Sungjin held you by the waist, and the feeling of his hands on you, but not doing anything, was almost enough to make you cry of frustration. You whined helplessly against his lips, grabbing onto his arms.

The kisses grew more passionate, and his hands started to move along your back, causing you to shiver involuntarily. You were getting more worked up by the minute, and you could tell Sungjin was too, by the way he grunted against your lips. Soon enough you were breathless and reluctantly broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

He moved his hand to cup your face. "I missed you." he said again, looking into your eyes with so much love and admiration.

"I missed you more," you said, leaning into his touch. You took his other hand in yours, interlacing your fingers with his.

"Oh, yeah? Show me how much," he smirked.

You were mildly surprised, because you didn't see this playful side of Sungjin often in intimate moments. But you loved to please, so you promptly sunk to your knees in front of him. The slight raise of his eyebrow told you he was taken aback by your eagerness, and the way he looked at you intently was causing an almost unbearable throb between your legs.

You knew, though, that if you were good for him now, he'd be amazing to you later. So you ignored your needs for the time being, and instead slowly moved your hands up his thighs over his boxers. You pulled them down by the waistband, biting your lip as you immediately felt yourself get wetter when you saw his dick in front of you. Sungjin carded a hand through your hair with a lazy smirk on his face; he loved watching your reactions.

You started with a few strokes along his length before you took him in your mouth. He let out a low groan. "Fuck, you feel so good," he said in a tone that made you squeeze your thighs, desperate for some relief.

His grip in your hair tightened as he started to control your movements, picking up the pace. When you went as far down as you could, and your nose pressed against Sungjin's abdomen, he held you there for a bit, and you tried your best to relax your throat to take him in. "Ah, Y/N... you're so good for me, such a good girl."

You interlocked your fingers in an effort to control yourself; to have him praise you like this after what felt like forever was almost torturous. You started to tear up a little as his movements sped up, your eyes fluttering shut as Sungjin continued to guide you on his dick. "Look at me," he commanded, and you glanced up at him through your eyelashes to his handsome face, damp hair falling on his forehead. "Lean back baby, let me fuck your mouth, can you do that for me?"

Of course you could. You loved being good for him, even now, even though you were so desperate to feel him you could cry. You sat back on your heels. Your immediate obedience was intoxicating to Sungjin, you were so eager to please him. "God, you're an angel," he murmured almost to himself; you looked so sweet in this moment, even though his dick was in your mouth. "Tell me if it's too much, okay?"

He bunched up your hair to have better control of you before he thrusted into your mouth, starting slow so he didn't hurt you. You tried your best to keep your eyes open, the view too erotic to miss: Sungjin's head slightly tilted backwards, his mouth occasionally leaving a shaky breath, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. Your knuckles were white from the effort it took to stay still — your panties were soaking at this point and it was obvious how needy you were.

You could tell he was close by his grip on your hair and the soft moans he let out. The sight and sounds in front of you were so sinfully pleasing you almost couldn’t bear it — Sungjin was fucking hot.

He picked up the pace for a time before asking, “Can I cum in your mouth, sweetheart?”, the nickname wildly contradictory to what he was doing with you. You moaned around his dick, which he took as a yes and which brought him to his orgasm.

You swallowed without him asking, which he swore could’ve made him cum again untouched. He tilted your chin to look up at him, moving some stray hair from your face. Sungjin always made an effort to be gentle with you, especially after rougher moments like these.

“You were so good, baby,” he smiled down at you, “do you want anything else? Hm? Let me make you feel good.”

You looked so beautiful with your slightly disheveled hair and flushed cheeks, sitting down and looking up at him with teary eyes. Wait, teary?

On realising you were crying, Sungjin immediately knelt down with concern on his face. He brought his other hand to your face and gently wiped your tears with his thumbs.

“Are you okay, darling? Was I too rough? I’m sorry, I didn’t realise…”

“Please fuck me, Sungjin…”

“…What?”

Your emotions were all over the place, and Sungjin’s clear shock made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. More of the crying though, because you wanted him so bad it was unbearable.

“Need you to fuck me, please, I can't sit still, missed you so much,” you rambled through small sobs, not even caring about how desperate you sounded. It was all true, anyway.

Sungjin closed his eyes with a small chuckle, relieved that he didn’t hurt you. He wondered what incredibly noble thing he might’ve done in another life to deserve someone like you in this one. Saved a country, maybe? “You,” he said, hands moving to hold yours, “are going to be the death of me.”

“Wasn’t that the plan?” You raise an eyebrow amused, cocky smile immediately disappearing when the man tugs you closer to him, caging your body between his arms.

“Yeah, real good acting.” He agrees sarcastically when your hands feel his biceps, glancing at the way they caress his arm then back at you, imitating your raised eyebrow. “Now make up for it.”

You were going to argue that he’s being stupid and reckless and that anyone could walk in on you two right now but before you could, his lips crashed into yours in a determined kiss, one of his hands cupping the back of your neck to hold you close. You let out a shaky whine, hands now going into his hair to caress it as you kiss back, feeling your heartbeat picking up. 

“Jooyeon wait– we shouldn’t…” You pull away just enough to whisper, breath still hot against his. Your breath hitches when his fingers dig deeper into your waist to pull you closer, eyes fixated on his lips.

“Why? I think we really should…” The blonde rasps, staring at your lips glossing under the dim kitchen light, pressing the small of your back against the edge of the countertop. His words are slurred and his thumbs find their way under the hem of your shirt, just enough to brush against your skin.

“C’mon, you know why.” You reply quietly, one hand in his hair as the one holding onto his shoulder tightens, licking your lips. However, even with all the pathetic attempts of telling him to pull away, your back instinctively arches against his hand when he puts one of his hands behind you on the countertop to whisper in your ear.

“If you really wanted me to stop,” He starts, the other hand pressing on the small of your back as he supports himself on the countertop. “You would’ve pushed me away.” Jooyeon argues, lips brushing against your jaw as he speaks. “What good are words when they contradict your actions?” 

“I’m serious.” You gasp when his knee finds his way between your legs. Jooyeon pulls away just enough to look at you, tilting his head knowingly. 

He almost lets out an amused chuckle, but stops himself, smiling slily to himself. “So am I.” Is all he says, before holding your chin between his index and thumb. The blonde wraps his arm around your waist, holding onto you as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip, eyeing you up and down. “C’mon, you’re too smart to play dumb.” 

“What if someone-” You start, but get interrupted by a yelp leaving your mouth when he starts kissing you slowly and passionately, a small smirk appearing on his face when he feels your hands cup his cheeks to kiss back.

“See how well we get along when you stop talking?” Jooyeon teases huskily, letting out a pleased hum when you lightly slap–more like tap– his cheek in annoyance. The kiss soon turns needier, and the taller pulls away for a second. “And if you’re that worried…” The blonde whispers, leaning over you to turn the under-cabinet light off, leaving you two in complete darkness. “Just keep quiet.” He looks down at you, both hands now resting on the tabletop on each side of you as he lets his body lean completely on you.

He starts kissing you again, slower this time, letting his tongue graze over your bottom lip before slightly pulling down on it, a small grunt escaping his lips when your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. “I thought you said to keep quiet.” 

Jooyeon lets out a daring scoff at the teasing parting his lips when your thumb presses on his Adam's apple to make him open his mouth so you can kiss him with tongue. “Oh yeah?” The other hums, one hand moving to your waistband, curling his finger around it just to let go of it so it hits your skin. When you let out a whimper in response, Jooyeon smiles to himself, whispering against your lips. “Tsk, I thought I told you to keep quiet.” 

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” You whisper threateningly with a beam, squeezing his neck slightly, only to be met with a pleased fucked out smile when he opens his eyes to look at you after kissing you a couple more times. 

“And here I am trying to be nice and thoughtful.” Jooyeon whispers back innocently as one of his cold hands makes it way closer and closer under your waistband, still supporting himself on the tabletop with the other. “I really get no appreciation, hm?” He continues, smiling to himself when he hears your soft giggles, putting you on the tabletop and leaving lingering kisses along your jaw. 

You tilt your head to the side with a sigh, biting your lip as he parts your legs to get in between them and press his body on yours. Jooyeon hums at that, hugging your lower back. He caresses your side with his thumb while kissing you slowly, the other hand caressing your thigh. 

When you pull slightly on his hair, the blonde lets out a small moan, hugging you even closer than before while he moves his hand up from your thigh to the curve of your ass. “Shit…” His voice comes in a ragged breath, the hand around your waist now sliding up your ribs. “Fucking hell…” He moans when you grab his jaw tightly to deepen the kiss and drag your nails on the back of his neck while pulling him closer.

Small breathy moans leave your lips as you feel his bulge press on you, starting to get dizzy when he starts licking and kissing your neck, now both of his hands letting their nails scratch lightly on your back. “Don’t leave marks where they can see.” You remind him with closed eyes and irregular breaths.

Jooyeon lets out a mumble as his hands now roam over your sides from under your shirt. “When do I?” The blonde smiles to himself, sucking on the skin under your collarbone after pulling on the collar of your shirt then covering it back up. 

You pull him back into a kiss, needier this time as you press your chest on his, only for the two of you to instantly pull away at the sound of some steps approaching, breathing heavily. You put distance between the two of you as you try to fix your hair and clothes after getting off the tabletop.

Turns out, it was just someone wanting to use the bathroom, and you really doubt they were awake enough to make notice of any sort of noise. Still, you and Jooyeon share a look before chuckling, shaking your heads in defeat.

The blonde comes to you, tilting your chin up so you look up at him. “We’re not done.” He whispers matter of factly, smiling when you mock him playfully, before tugging you in for a short kiss by your neck.

“Go sleep, we wake up early tomorrow.” You reply with a small blush, pushing him away lightly.

“Yess ma’am.” Jooyeon rasps with a small salute, kissing you once more before walking away. “Hope you can’t sleep tomorrow either.” He says lastly, exiting the kitchen after giving you a quick wink.

One day you got worn down by your aunt’s endless praises of Father Kim Jungsu. Even your teenage cousins started nodding along and agreeing with her, saying he’s not like other priests.

So one Sunday you decided to tag along despite being skeptical of him - and Jesus Christ. You decided to slip inside the church out of curiosity; to see who’s the young man who has the entire town so fascinated.

One thing is for certain, you didn’t expect him to look like that… Warm, welcoming gaze, lips that moved patiently and intentionally, dark hair, stylishly done.

There was something quietly commanding about him. He had a powerful presence in the most modest, humble way, filling the room without demanding for attention. Yet, everyone around you was spellbound, clinging onto his words as candlelight shimmered across the church, giving him an almost magical glow.

Truthfully, it pissed you off.

Instead of going home feeling your curiosity met, your questions - answered, you walked out with a knot of irritation twisting in your chest. A sense of injustice almost.

It just didn’t feel fair. He wasn’t supposed to look like that - like the kind of man you’d spot at a party and want to lock lips with… like a face you’d see on a movie poster and imagine what the rest of his body looks like, naked.

Priests were supposed to be old and cold. Detached from the outside world. They have already lived a life and carry way more wisdom, after all. But he wasn’t old nor detached. He wasn’t safe. Surely not from your imagination and greed.

Against every bit of logic, you kept coming back.

You didn’t always understand what he preached and honestly you didn’t try to. What drew you wasn’t his theology, it was him. The way he spoke with such conviction. He was so devoted, it made you wonder if you were capable of devoting yourself and your entire existence to something… anything, really. It sounds kind of limiting and suffocating.

If you ever surrender like that, it wouldn’t be to a god you couldn’t see. It would be someone you can feel with your hands… whose heartbeat you can hear when you lay on his chest.

─── ♱

Next Sunday you stay unti the final blessing.

The congregation stands up, murmuring Amen in unison. Everyone moves slowly down the aisle for communion meanwhile you just wait, pretending indifference as mixture of rustling clothes and whispered prayers fill the air. One by one, they all approach him with open palms, and he greets each of them with the same gentle authority.

The Body of Christ. Amen. The Body of Christ. Amen.

You try not to stare at him as he stands at the front, chalice in one hand,, but you do - every gesture of his looks so calm yet as if it carries weight, it’s captivating. Tempting. Especially as the sunlight creeping in catches the edges of his black hair like a halo, making him seem ethereal and untouchable.

As the line thins, something pulls you forward. You wonder what it would be like to have him look at you that way too.

Your heartbeat quickens as you step closer to the altar, people nod and cross themselves in front of you.

And then, you’re standing before him. He looks up from the ciborium and your eyes meet; his are unreadable yet definitely not indifferent. Yours - restless and jittery. Suddenly the space feels unnaturally quiet… so quiet that you can hear the thud of your own heart, loud and insistent, like you’ve just been caught doing something you shouldn’t - at the wrong place and time - and now, it’s signaling you to run.

And maybe you have been caught red handed. You don’t stand here with any pure intentions.

“The Body of Christ.” He says steady. Automatic.

“Amen,” you whisper.

His hand moves forward, gaze landing on your mouth.

For a second you catch hesitation flashing in his eyes, but all you can do is stand still - you’re unsure what is expected of you to do or how to do it right. Somehow, your lips part anyway and he places the wafer on your tongue, not leaving you out of sight.

The gesture is nothing more than a ritual, but your breath catches like it holds a hidden meaning; your train of thought suddenly stutters as your mind tries to make sense of it… of why his hand movements make your skin hotter like they’re practicing magic.

The wafer dissolves almost instantly and you slowly open your eyes.

“May God bless you.” He says softly.

You step back, crossing yourself and walk away, lightheaded. The faint dryness that the wafer left on your tongue lingers weirdly, but you don’t hate it. There’s something hot rising inside you, distracting you from everything else - something that has no place there.

Not after you just went to church.

─── ♱

One Sunday, when mass ends, you decide to stay for a few minutes, just until the aisle clears, you tell yourself. The crowd spills toward the doors in a tide of polite chatter, your aunt among them, with the kind of smile she wears only on Sundays - when she believes the world is a little softer and more forgiving. She doesn’t even notice you’ve stayed behind. None of them do.

With crossed arms in front of your chest, you remain by the stained glass windows, like there’s something about the colors that has you too intrigued to leave just yet. You pin your eyes on the view, the light spilling across your skin in shades of gold and red, but truthfully you’re still chasing his voice.

You replay in your head the way he spoke earlier - confident, earnest, so alive… inspired, as though he built raw stories with hidden powers that could shift the world. But what you remember most isn’t the sermon, it’s the way he looked at people; like each face mattered. Including yours, and you don’t believe in anything.

“If you keep hanging around after mass,” the familiar voice calls out behind you, light yet enticing… uplifted by your presence, “I might think you’re converting and get excited.”

You turn to find him leaning back in one of the pews, perfectly at ease, with hands folded loosely as if this was the living room of his home and not a church heavy with candle smoke.

You let your eyes rest on him longer than you should. You think your expression is neutral, not sharpened by any emotions, but that’s far from the truth.

Father Jungsu knows what your aunt’s told him - that you don’t believe, that you sit through mass out of politeness, not faith. That you’re still “lost”, as if your doubts are a fever waiting for him to cure. She asked him directly once. “Please, guide her, Father. Make her listen,” she said, “you’re around the same age, after all. She’s going to trust you more than anyone else.”

He didn’t promise anything then, but he remembers her words. He tucked them away and kept you in mind each Sunday, not as a task or a project. He couldn’t stop noticing you anyway.

However, except disbelief, Jungsu recognizes something else in your eyes too. Curiosity? Restlessness? A quiet longing for something you haven’t named yet? Certainly, that’s not the gaze of someone who’s broken.

His lips curl slightly, but there’s no pity nor mockery behind the smile. He wonders what keeps pulling you back into a place you claim not to belong to. Maybe you don’t realise that you’re inching toward admitting your faults, or perhaps you’re simply demonstrating your provocation like a mischievous child.

“Why?” you finally break the silence. “My aunt and half the town already worship the ground you walk on.”

He tilts his head amused. “And what about you?”

The question lands lightly but his stare is so analysing, it holds you still.

“Worship isn’t something I’m interested in,” you reply at once; instead of matching his casual tone, your words come out defensive.

He chuckles, though - a reaction you did not expect. You’re taken aback by his laughter and how warm and unthreatening it sounds.

He shifts to the left, placing one palm beside him. “Sit.”

You blink at him, the weight of his command sinking in. As you settle next to him, suddenly you’re aware of his presence, his closeness… how magnetic it is despite the fact both of you are pretty much from two different worlds. Somehow, it makes you keep talking. It makes you want to push further.

“You just…” the thought slips out, “you don’t look like a priest at all.”

He laughs again, this time the easy sound makes your tummy tighten.

“Thank you.” He says, his eyes flickering discreetly as you adjust on the pew.

“That wasn’t a compliment,” you say flat.

“Honest…” Jungsu leans back, eyes still on you. “I like that.”

A brief pause comes between you and in that moment you realise that you can sense the faint scent of cedar coming from his body. Your neck warms up and you swallow thickly, forcing your eyes away from his collar.

Soon, he speaks, shifting your gaze back to him.

“But you should know… I worked hard to get here. The minimum age to become a priest is twenty-five years old. I was twenty-four when the bishop made an exception for me.”

“Oh…”

“I studied, I trained, I prayed… I made sure I was ready even if I was younger than the usual requirement.”

A faint spark of respect creeps in your chest despite yourself. “I didn’t expect all that,” you murmur.

“Well… it’s easy to underestimate someone because of physical appearance.”

Your lips curl a little bit as you shift to see him better. “So, let me get this straight… you’re younger than most priests, much younger… you’re better looking than all priests, and you’re wiser too?”

Jungsu rests an arm casually on the pew, speaking softer. “Wiser? That’s very generous.”

“Don’t pretend you heard half of what I just said,” you tease.

He suppresses a chuckle, then looks down at his lap. “As I said, I worked hard for it,” he says. “Discipline, study, prayer… and a lot of patience.”

You nod once, smirking with eyes upon his face. ”That’s all it takes to look like a movie star in a collar?”

The question makes him tilt in your direction and the air between you shifts. There’s a glint in his eyes as they hold yours, studying you in a way that makes your breathing slow.

The light mood of your teasing suddenly fades, replaced by something tense and heavy. His attention does that to you every time - when he catches your gaze across the pews, when he nods in greeting as he walks down the aisle… but this feels different now, dangerous. You hate that it scatters your thoughts, erasing every clever word you’ve ever known. You want to impress him, to show him that you’re sharp and confident.

“Looks alone don’t get you anywhere,” he says finally. His voice slips lower than usual, like it took him effort to push the words out.

He doesn’t wait for a response. Instead, he raises on his feet, emitting a small, short sigh.

“Why do you keep coming back?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

You fake a shrug in order to hide the fact you were not prepared for such question. “Curiosity.”

Father Jungsu smiles faintly; it’s a kind of smile that reaches his mouth halfway. “Curiosity,” he repeats, perhaps taking the moment to gather his thoughts. “That’s a dangerous one. It’s… the first spark that lit a fire. It’s what got Eve in all sorts of trouble.”

“And Adam,” you add as yout stand up.

His grin stretches, delighted you’d spar with him. Then, he takes a step forward as his tone dips into that thoughtful almost musical cadence he creates when speaking about faith.

“Still, maybe it isn’t such a bad reason to return.”

For the first time your tone softens slightly cautious. “Do you think God would want people who question Him here?”

“Curiosity means you’re still searching. Don’t look at it like it’s an enemy of faith, but rather like… a doorway to it. After all, curiosity is also what brought Moses to the burning bush.”

You blink, caught off guard by the calm convinction in his voice. “I… don’t know what the burning bush is.”

His lips curve as though he half-expected that answer. “When Moses saw a bush on fire… but it wasn’t burning away. He went closer to see why and that’s when God first spoke to him.”

You nod slowly, obviously not touched by the story. But there’s something about the way he tells it - not preachy or superior. It stirs something uncomfortably warm in your chest. You glance away, back to the stained glass as light crawls across the floor, and you try to gather your thoughts.

Jungsu still watches you, you can feel it. It’s both comfort and intensity all at once.

“Maybe you haven’t found your burning bush yet,” he says carefully, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not welcome here.”

You turn to him, lips parting to say something, but his smile disarms you.

“Go in peace,” he says, then adds almost under his breath: “Even if peace isn’t what you’re looking for yet.”

─── ♱

Father Jungsu feels like a narcotic; one that enters your system slowly and quietly. With every encounter, it becomes harder to break the cycle that you never even considered to start. Now you can’t find a way out.

The thoughts of him linger, multiplying as Sundays draw closer. At night, you find yourself crying into your pillow, wishing he was like every other man you know - careless, cruel, easy to reach and even easier to forget. But he isn’t. He cares deeply; he looks at the world as if it still deserves kindness. When his eyes rest on you, they see you, they understand.

You can’t say the same for the few people around you.

You can’t help but wonder why. You can’t be the only one who believes there’s another unspoken reason for this connection. You can’t be the only one who senses there’s something else… something neither of you dares to name because naming it would break everything he’s built his faith upon, everything he’s fought to protect.

You can’t be imagining this all because you’re too caught up with your loneliness and desperation.

You know it’s love.

─── ♱

Your aunt is out of town for the weekend.

It’s Sunday and you have a text with an invitation to a party from one of your friends still unanswered on your phone; she tells you names of familiar people and popular boys who are going to be there, but you don’t care about any of them. You stare at it for a while before locking the screen.

Nobody would know if you skipped mass. But as the hour draws closer, you find yourself grabbing your coat and stepping out into the gray late morning. You tell yourself you’re only going because the church feels so suspended from the rest of the world, but that’s not the full truth.

You’re going for him.

It’s a strange feeling, but obsessive. During the week everything feels dull. The joy on your friends’ faces around you lately doesn’t settle on yours. Conversations don’t quite reach you and sometimes feel exhausting just like peoples’ laughter that echoes too loud in the cafes you go to.

But when you’re in his presence, something changes.

You stop feeling like an outline of your body and you feel… like you’re slowly coming back to life. You don’t feel entirely at peace or safe, but you feel awake. As if a drug slipped into your veins that reminds you that you can do anything… be something to someone.

It’s dizzying, the rush he brings you. Especially on days when it lingers for longer and you can’t help but touch yourself under the sheets of your bed to calm your mind that swirls with images of him.

Now, sliding into your usual seat near the back with his melodious voice threading through the air as he stands at the front, turning a page in the missal, your pulse revives.

The more you think about it the more you realise this rush, this need opening inside you, is also terrifying. However, maybe exactly that frightening thrill is exactly what keeps you coming back. Not faith. Just the forbidden adrenaline boost he gives you with a single look.

The forbidden want to love him and be loved by him.

After mass, when you rise, ready to head towards the doors, a hand lands on your shoulder.

You turn, startled.

“You! I didn’t know you go here!”

It takes you a second to recognise her - a girl from high school that you haven’t seen nor spoken to in years.

You nod silently, and she doesn’t even wait for you to say something. She starts talking, loud and too quickly. Her nosiness hasn’t changed nor her grin.

“I would’ve never guessed you’re religious,” she blurts, eyes flicking with intrigue. “When did this happen? What brough you here?”

Your mind blanks. You feel cornered, exposed. Like she’s trying to take something out of you without permission.

“Did something dramatic happen that suddenly made you find faith?” She laughs before catching herself. “Sorry, that sounded awful. I’m just surprised. You never seemed like the church type.”

You force a smile. “People change I guess.”

“Apparently,” she says still amused. “I remember you always partying, and…”

“Everyone finds their way here in their own time.”

His familiar voice cuts through the noise, calm and unshakably kind. “Every person in this house is a child of God, whether they come in seeking answers or simply comfort.”

His gaze flickers to you, carrying a kind of reassurance that feels like it’s meant just for you.

Your friend’s smile falters on the instant when she recognises him. “Father Jungsu,” she murmurs, suddenly polite. “I didn’t mean to… I was just surprised to see her here, that’s all. We used to go to the same high school.”

He offers her a patient smile. “That’s nice.”

“I should probably get going,” she says, tucking a strand of her hair nervously.

“Of course,” he nods. “Go in peace.”

She mumbles a quick goodbye, heading toward the exit.

You exhale a breath, glancing away. Now it’s just the two of you standing there in the echoing quiet.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“You looked like you needed rescuing.” He turns to you, gaze landing steady upon you, but slightly softer than earlier.

“I think I did,” you say, feeling your heartbeat quickening beneath your coat the second you lock eyes.

Everyone has left the church - there’s stillness around you that has you instantly acknowledging the electricity that passes between you.

You remember there are rules and vows to look away, but you don’t.

Then, he clears his throat quietly, glancing to the side briefly. “Your aunt is not here today.” He leads you both toward the doors.

“She’s out of town. She comes back tonight.”

You step outside. He walks beside you, just a step behind, hands clasped loosely in front of him. The church doors close with a dull echo.

“I’m glad you still decided to come.”

You lift your gaze from the ground, meeting his.

For a moment Jungsu feels like he’s seeing you as unguarded as never before; like something in you softens beneath his stare. Your beautiful features shift, gentler as the seconds pass by, and suddenly he’s exploring everything you hide from the world.

In that instant, he knows… that he’s not looking at the version everyone else gets, - but the one who’s been quietly trying to hold herself together. The one you never let anyone else see. The one reserved just for him.

However, your eyes flicker with a light that unsettles him - a reminder of how fragile a human can be when faced with certain temptation. How sometimes the heart can start speaking a language of its own.

He swallows the unwelcomed thoughts, and forces his vision towards the trees, the stone benches… “You’ll catch a cold if you stay out much longer.”

You nod, but you still can’t move. It’s not the cold wind stiffening your bones… it’s you unable to bring yourself to leave his presence.

“Can we stay here for a little while?” You ask, voice quieter than you expected, but laced in hope.

His expression falters. “That wouldn’t be appropriate.” He says carefully.

Your brows furrow as the wind caresses your face. “Why?” The word escapes you, small and childlike. “Why would it be wrong to just sit here for a few minutes? I’m not asking for anything of you.”

Father Jungsu breathes in slowly, eyes lowering. “Because this place asks something of me.” His voice is edged with something you haven’t heard before from him. It seems like he recognises it too; his body begins to betray him. This time he speaks slower and more measured, like he wants you to memorise his words. “People come here to pray… not to confuse what they feel with something else.”

You can’t answer. You just hold onto the eye contact as the wind stirs between you, light but cold.

Confused? You’re not confused, not when it comes to him. That’s the problem.

“If you need to talk about something, you can always come by my office. I hold visiting hours every Wednesday.”

“I don’t need to talk,” you murmur, shaking your head slowly. “I just don’t want to go home… I don’t want to be alone right now.” You hesitate to look at him, so you trace the edge of his sleeve, his calm, straight posture. “You’re the only one whose company I enjoy lately…”

His gaze softens, painfully so, but he keeps the cautious distance between you. “That’s kind of you to say,” he replies quietly. “But you should go home now.” He gives you a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “There’s a cold wind coming,” he adds and his tone slips almost pleading.

You get the urge to argue, to ask why it would matter so much if he stays by your side just for a few minutes… but you nod and turn to go.

As you walk away, his silthouette in the black robe is still standing there, unmoving when all he wanted is to reach for you.

The party is already loud and in full swing when you arrive. You know almost everyone, so you keep nodding and forcing smiles as you drift between small groups. Someone hands you a drink and you accept although you’re not in the mood for it. You take a few sips out of habit.

A familiar voice calls your name across the room, your friend waves you over.

By the time you make your way there, someone gets up from the couch, leaving a space right next to Keeho - the guy you used to work with at the pizza place last summer. You took orders over the phone, he made the deliveries, and the two of you made out behind the building during breaks. It never led to anything serious, not even sex; it was just something to spice up the long summer nights.

He drapes an arm casually along the back of the couch as you sit with your drink still in hand.

“For a second I thought you weren’t coming.” He says.

“Well, I’m here.”

“Thank God,” he flashes his brows at you, a grin tugging at his lips.

As the conversation rolls on, his hand keeps finding its way on your thigh, just resting there long enough to make his intentions clear.

When you’re halfway through your drink, he leans in, alcoholic breath brushing your ear. “This place is getting loud. Wanna see if upstairs is quieter?”

“That’s the best you could do?” You arch a brow.

“I didn’t need pick up lines last summer,” he laughs, unbothered.

That’s true.

He stands up, offering you a hand, and you take it.

Things escalate quickly - Keeho never wastes time; with him everything happens fast.

But as he touches you up and down, eagerly pushing your dress to your waist, something inside your mind switches. Another face flickers in the dark behind your eyelids. It’s not Keeho’s voice whispering at your ear.

Your brain works slower from the alcohol in your system, but it’s awake enough to call for him. The image of him that lately has been perminent in your mind creates some sick illusion in the warmth of this room, making every move, every breath and kiss mismatched.

His enticing eyes. His rousing voice. His collar. The line of his throat. His fingers… the way they trace the sign of the cross with such practiced grace, you could almost feel them on your skin, making their way up your inner thighs. All of these fragments send jolts of pleasure through you as Keeho invades your walls with a steady push.

You imagine Jungsu’s lips curving against your neck, calling you good. Eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure as he praises you like no one has ever done before. Your pussy is heaven, he’d say.

You don’t even try to escape it.

You let yourself sink into this fantasy, imagining it’s his weight pressing against you every time your arms tighten around Keeho’s shoulders.

They’re built similarly, or so you tell yourself. You can easily picture Father Jungsu at the gym, it’s probably one of his few interests as he’s the kind of man who believes discipline of the body keeps the mind healthy. In your imagination, his movements are rhythmic and hypnotic, like the way his knuckles tighten around the chalice, making you hold your breath until they relax again; his lean muscles flex and glisten under sweating slick skin… and he breathes heavy, but steady as he pushes through another rep. And you wish you could devour him. Tongue licking every part of him, every droplet of sweat and arousal. Teeth sinking into warm flesh.

A choked moan slips out of your mouth. That provokes Keeho to move faster, glancing down between your bodies as you pulse harder from the powerful creations of your imagination.

Your fingers rub circles on your clit as if they’re his.

Come for me, he’d say as you get pushed toward the edge. Come… sinful girl.

With his voice echoing in your head, his name between your teeth, you shake through your orgasm, head pressed back into the pillow.

The euphoria lasts a few seconds, and then… you feel hollow, empty. And you want to go home.

That’s when you realise how much has changed.

─── ♱

Jungsu sits at his desk, hands clasped tightly, lips moving in prayer that sounds more like a confession rather than a recitation.

“Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner,” he whispers. “Forgive me if I have failed You… in thought, in word… in silence.”

The rosary slips between his fingers before he catches it again. His palms are sweating. His collar feels too tight, his throat dry.

“Create in me a clean heart, O God.” He runs his thumb over the beads, pressing hard like penance. “Strengthen what is weak in me. Let Your will, not mine, be done.”

He draws in a long breath, but peace doesn’t come.

The stillness of his office feels heavy, pressuring, as though the walls are watching and listening. Like they know.

That sometimes he keeps his sermons short because he wants to talk to you. That sometimes he says things that aren’t meant for the room, but for your ears only.

That he notices the way you fold your hands, the way you bite your lip when you don’t understand the meaning of a word. That he has the exact shade of that red dress you wear beneath your coat memorised, the one that only ever appears when you’re feeling braver. It’s the shade of terror. The color of the need crawling under his skin when he thinks of you. The color staining everything when you visit him in his dreams - completely bare, exposed in all your glory… in his dreams you always smile at him, triumphant and alluring, like you’re a holy fire that he’s about to kneel for.

When he wakes up, it aches. This morning he almost lost control; he’s never felt so desperate and unstable in his life. Fortunately, he managed to endure, then he went for a run to clear his head a little bit.

They know, and they see it - the invisible thread pulling tight each time your eyes meet across the space between you.

Then, comes a knock at the door. Hesitant, and somehow unmistakable.

He doesn’t need to ask - he knows who it is. He can feel you in the air… your presence, your heat, your perfume, your quiet longing.

At first when he met you for the first time, he felt a spark. A small, innocent one, the kind of spark you get when you meet someone intriguing. But he didn’t expect that spark to quickly grow… so rich, so blinding.

He smooths the front of his black shirt, then opens the door.

There you are, standing in the front of the hallway, coat damp from the drizzle outside. Your breath is uneven, your eyes instantly darting past him toward the small crucifix on the wall.

“Hi,” you say quickly. “Sorry, I know it’s late. I just… needed to ask you something if that’s okay.”

He steps aside without hesitation. “Of course. Come in.” His hand silently invites you on the chair across from his desk.

“I wanted to ask about… confession,” you say, twisting fingers together. “As you can probably guess already, I’ve never done it before and… I don’t know how it goes. Are there any… rules? Limits? Things you aren’t supposed to say.”

“There aren’t limits. Confession isn’t about rules, it’s about honesty.”

“Even if it’s about… sex?”

Jungsu’s expression subtly shifts; there’s an unreadable tension darkening his eyes, and the flickering of the lamp only makes it more evident. “Yes,” he answers. “You can tell God anything.”

“And you’re there…” you lower your gaze, voice dipping softer, “listening.”

He nods. “But I’m only a witness. Everything passes between you and Him.”

You wonder if he really believes he could be just a witness to you.

You shift in your seat, taking a few seconds to calm your stirring emotions. Rubbing palms against your thighs, you remind yourself you don’t have to do this. He doesn’t have to know. After all, you don’t feel guilty for your feelings or desires.

But this… this isn’t just lust anymore. You’re in love. And it’s the quiet, terrifying kind of love that’s been building without your permission. You also feel admiration, not just for who he is, but for how he makes you want to be better… for the way he sees you even when you don’t want to be seen.

And now, standing here with your heart trembling in your chest, you know - if you want to be loved back, you’ll have to tell him everything.

“Uhm…” you force a chuckle as nerves cripple at your neck. “This is going to sound silly, but… can we practice here for a minute?” You finally dare to look at him only to see that his expression has changed again. It’s not cold or disapproving, but it’s definitely sharper. “I don’t think I’m ready yet, but I’d like to know what it feels like.”

Just now, you realise he’s not wearing his vestments, only the black clerical shirt and slacks, sleeves neatly buttoned at the wrist. The small square of white at his throat draw your eyes like a magnet, simple yet hard to look away from.

He stands up and carefully moves his chair next to yours. He sits, hearing you take a deep breath. The sound as well as the sudden closeness makes his pulse stutter. His broad shoulders tense.

“Just be honest,” he manages, hands folding slowly as he looks at the crucifix. “What weighs on your heart?”

You lower your gaze to your lap as your lips part, but it takes a moment for the words to find their way out. By the time you speak, your mouth has gone dry. “I feel lost… and lonely most of the time. I have friends, but it’s like I’m there without really… being there. I don’t fit anywhere anymore.”

His lips press into a thoughtful line. The silence is free of any pressure, but it hums with something else. Nonetheless, you go on, as it gives you more courage.

“Ever since I started coming here,” you continue, your voice tighter, but honest. “I’ve been feeling… alive. I haven’t felt like this in such a long time.” The words pull themselves from somewhere deep inside you, and it starts to make breathing easier. “The thing is… It’s not because of God. I don’t know if I believe or not.”

He manages a small nod.

“It’s because of you, Father…”

“You don’t have to call me Father if you don’t…”

“No, I want to,” you’re quick to reassure him, desperate to show your growing devotion to him. “I believe in you, Father.” Then, you risk a glance at him.

He doesn’t look at you back. His eyes flicker away in an opposite direction as he takes a breath; a breath of restraint that hides behind many things including fear.

Soon, he forces a faint smile. “If you see something good here it’s not mine to claim.”

“Can I ask you a question?” you keep your gaze on him.

“Yes, you can.”

“Why is it,” you murmur, sitting straight again, “that if you look close enough, you can find the physical kind of love in almost everything? Art, literature, in myths… even in religion. It’s like it’s everywhere.”

Jungsu stills, eyes unfocused for a moment. He’s always had an answer for everything, but now his silence feels purposeful. The pause between you buzzes, and your pulse falters as you wait for whatever might come next.

Finally, he speaks: “That’s… the oldest language we have for creation.” He swallows, as if steadying himself, chasing the rest of his thought before it slips away. “Before there were words, there was touch. Before prayer, there was longing… to be joined with something greater than yourself.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say softly, resonating with his words.

Jungsu’s throat tightens as he swallows again. He feels heat slowly crawling up his neck and he fixes his gaze back on the wall across from him.

“I’m pleased to hear it,” he nods. “Would you like to continue?”

You agree, drawn to the slow cadence of his careful voice.

“Two nights ago I went to a party where I slept with someone,” you admit, steady and calm. “We had sex and…” your tone stutters at the end and you take a brief pause.

A shadow of concern crosses Jungsu’s face. Anticipation settles in his stomach as he fights something dark threatening to spill where it’s supposed to be nothing.

You draw a breath that barely reaches your lungs. “I’m just going to say it.” You exhale, eyes fluttering shut. “The entire time… all I could think about was you. I was picturing you… because I kept wishing it was you touching me, not him. I’ve been thinking about you, Father… so much it hurts.”

You slowly open your eyes. There’s heavy silence.

Jungsu folds his hands firmly, murmuring a quiet prayer for guidance. God, grant me the words to help without failing in my duty…

“Even now,” you continue, voice unsteady as suddenly your thoughts flicker faster than you can catch them, “I wish you were holding me in your arms, I… I want you. I’ve never felt this way before for anyone.”

The confession hangs between you, spreading heat in the air, melting the edges of reason. Until all that’s left are the suffocating, corrupting feelings.

There are some sentences and prayers hovering on Jungsu’s tongue, but the fire rising in his body makes it hard to think, hard to breathe. When his lips finally part, his brows furrow, like he doubts every word that crosses his mind right now.

“You said you believed in me,” he says slowly, but there’s slight roughness in his voice that gives it away - that he could raise it higher if he was allowed to. “Why didn’t you seek my guidance when you were struggling to find peace in your thoughts?”

“Because I knew thatt if I came to you, I’d want more than just a conversation,” you admit, honest. “I would’ve wanted… everything. Your comfort, your kiss, your touch, all of it.”

It’s the truth, and saying it out loud feels like tearing a wound open, but it’s also satisfying. The hunger that’s taken root inside you has grown so strong it keeps you awake at night, pulsing between your legs at every thought that has to do with him.

“I thought that if I looked for relief somewhere else, the desire might finally leave me alone,” you continue, but then… the thought of him believing you could ever choose someone else over him makes you sick. Before the silence stretches too far, you add almost desperately: “But it didn’t help. It only made me realise how real this is… what we have between us. It can never go away. Father, I—”

“Stop.”

The command lands like a whisper, but your stomach still turns.

Jungsu finally turns to you, his eyes dark in disbelief and something dangerously close to longing. He notices it - the absence of shame. The lack of guilt and regret in your confession. If anything, this lifted something heavy off your chest.

You’re a sinner.

And when it comes to him… he feels like he’s slowly going mad. His mind begins to swirl with thoughts he could never dress in holy language no matter how hard he tries.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.” His words are almost forced, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

“I thought we are practicing for my confession.” You say, not breaking eye contact. “So I’m confessing.”

His pulse skitters as his temperature increases from your gaze alone. Your yearning, no—your greed, lands warm and provoking, digging a wound straight into his soul.

He utters your name softly, holding onto the last bits of patience he has left. “You know this… whatever this is… can’t happen.”

“But it’s real. I know what I feel.”

Jungsu exhales shakily, his head drops low.

You eyes drift to his lap; his hands are trembling against the rosary beads, betraying everything he’s trying to hold back.

Slowly, you reach for him. Your fingertips graze his knuckles in a quiet attempt to steady him. “You’re shaking.”

The tension in his jaw, the restraint in his shoulders… it’s almost painful to watch. It’s as if every muscle in his body is working against his instincts.

“You’re tempting a man of God.” He says in an agonised voice.

“You make love sound like a sin.”

He finally turns to you; his breath escapes as his lips part. “You have sinned.” The words leave his mouth sharp, like an accusation.

“Maybe,” you reply, tone calm. “But I don’t feel guilt about it.”

The simplicity of your response catches him off guard. There’s uncertainty in his eyes as he searches your face for remorse and finding none.

His fingers twitch beneath yours, caught between wanting to grip your hand and forcing himself not to.

Then, you say: “You can touch me.”

Upon hearing this, Jungsu’s eyes drop to your mouth. And they rest there, observing the appealing color and shape.

“I would love for you to touch me,” you whisper, entrancing him even more with the way your lips move.

In that moment, something stirs in his stomach before settling below his belt. The feeling isn’t entirely unfamiliar, but it’s tied to other emotions - shame, guilt, fear. Nevertheless… a brief touch wouldn’t be so bad, right?

A brief touch, he tells himself. He’ll touch you only for a second. That’s all he needs - just a second to feel your skin, your warmth.

Finally, for the first time, he reaches toward you.

His hand slips from your palm, then slowly lifts to your face, brushing fingertips against your skin. The contact sets every nerve in his body on fire, and that heat pulls him closer.

You’ve never known comfort quite like this - the rough warmth of his palm tracing the side of your face, slowing until your breath matches the rhythm of his touch. Your head tilts, surrendering to it, your whole body easing as if it finally remembers what love feels like.

Your eyes flutter shut and Jungsu swallows thickly; his mouth waters in a way that has little to do with the thirst for salvation he should be feeling.

Before he can resist, his thumb brushes your lips; touch that feels both featherlight and enough to part them slightly open.

When he speaks, his voice is so small and weak, that it doesn’t feel like it’s his own. “This… doesn’t feel right.” Yet, he presses down on your lower lip, cherishing the view of your teeth, your tongue bold enough to flicker out and wet his thumb.

Your gaze lifts up. There’s a new light in his eyes, a quiet steadiness.

“Then… what does it feel like?” You ask softly.

Jungsu takes a moment. Because how do you name something that feels both ruin and relief?

“It feels,” he murmurs, hand shifting below your jawline, “dangerously close to it.”

“Keep going,” you say, pulse skittering as he slowly leans in, “please…” you trail off, getting dizzier in the charged air between you. His touch slides to explore the line of your neck, warming you up further.

Jungsu knows he should turn away.

But his body’s instincts are stronger in this internal battle, and before he can stop himself, his mouth touches your cheek - not for a kiss, but a light touch, so he can gain a little taste.

He lets out a blissfull sigh; the drags of his lips are slow, measured, as desire and reason twist within him. “You’re ruining me,” he mutters against your skin, tone laced in desperation. “You don’t realise the damage you cause me.”

His lips are soft, lingering so tender and warm. They move lower, studying you, caressing you as your breathing picks up excitedly. “You’re here to plague me,” he continues near your ear.

He can smell your perfume, the scent of your lotion creeping through your heat. It makes his body react - his manhood thickens, pressing against the placket of his pants.

As if you can feel the fire looming in him, your hand slides along his thigh - not so much to comfort him, but to encourage him to surrender. “I long for you… every day.”

Jungsu breathes shakily as he presses his forehead against yours. Suddenly, he cups your face with both hands, like he’s about to kiss you, the cold beads brush your skin. “We have to pray,” he says, his voice rising a notch though unstable. There’s some kind of noise buzzing non-stop in his head, as if Satan himself is whispering at his ear.

Your palm rubs against his thigh, drawing light patterns in the direction where you can guess he’s pulsing for your touch.

His large hands stay on you, steady and unyielding, as his breath fans warmly across your face. He keeps you close as if he’s afraid you might slip away, even while every part of him screams to release you.

And then… the space between you disappeares - his lips press against yours, light and unrushed; like a silent confession of everything he can’t say out loud. A kiss so soft and brief it feels like a plea.

When he pulls back, his grip tightens, grounding you where you are. His voice slips, more controlled yet still weak at the edges. “Please take away my guilt and wipe my slate clean with the blood of Jesus Christ…”

It’s hard to focus on everything he’s saying, though. Your thoughts are still tangled somewhere in the lingering warmth he left on your lips. It’s dizzying, the way something so gentle can feel so immense - especially when you’ve been dreaming of it night after night.

Mid-prayer and with no hesitation, you kiss him back. A moment passes as your lips stay on his mouth and Jungsu allows it. He holds your warm face in his hands, drowning in the thrill of your touch.

He doesn’t understand it, but his knees weaken, his chest tightens… and that throbbing ache, the one that woke him up this morning after he saw you in his dream, returns, fluttering in his core. It’s like you shifted the rhythm of his whole body with just a single touch.

“I am a sinner in need of my Savior…” he continues after you detach to breathe in.

“We don’t need to…” you try to tell him, but he doesn’t hear it.

His voice is hushed and quick as if that’s going to help him escape the depraved lust washing over him.

With foreheads resting against one another, you ghost one hand over his slacks, fingers brushing his prominent boner. The on-going prayer falters as a stuttering moan crawls out of his throat. The sound enters your mouth, so sweet, you immediately want to hear it again.

For a moment you’re so focused on the different changes in his voice that you don’t realise when his hand, wrapped in the rosary, shifts to your waist.

Your eyes, glossy with desire, peer into his dark gaze in a frenzy as the beads disappear under your sweater. His fingertips travel up your back, bringing goosebumps across your skin. Your breath comes out in shutters at the way he caresses the curve of your spine, beads sliding down your figure while his lips slow the rhythm.

You can taste the insatiable desire, the need for pleasure and love on his tongue as the phrases unfold slowly, voice barely audible, almost matching the easy pace of his fingers exploring your bare skin.

Your temperature is heightened, a warm slickness seeping through the fabric of your panties when the final word finally comes, soft like an exhale. Amen.

When your eyes meet, it feels like the world suddenly tilts, like everything outside this office feels so far away… and too cold in comparison to the space between you that’s warm and electric.

The echo of his touch burns on your skin when he pulls his hand, glancing away.

The clench of your heart when you see him rise to his feet is unspeakable. The warmth of the moment collapses into the distance now stretching between you.

He speaks with his back to you, because he’s afraid that facing you will undo whatever resolve he somehow managed to finally build. “You don’t need to be perfect to be forgiven. God hears honesty… before anything else.”

For a long breath there’s only silence. Then, his tense shoulders rise and fall as though even the air inside the room is troubling him.

He turns, but his eyes never make it to your face; they hover somewhere near the floor, guilty and hesitant. When he lifts a hand to trace the sign of the cross, you know - you have to leave.

─── ♱

The rain greets you cold and unrelenting as you step out of the restaurant. In your rush to escape the scene that unfolded at the table, the judgemental murmurs you left behind, you forget to grab your coat.

You love the rain; it soothes and clears your mind, but not tonight. You can still see it - your aunt, half-hidden beneath the awning, kissing passionately another man that isn’t your uncle. Twenty minutes later, she returns to your table with a steady smile, explaining it away as an urgent work call.

The woman who preached virtue and family daily.

Your mind barely catches up as you walk fast, dress clinging wet to your body as each step leads you closer to the only person you can think of… the only one worth holding on to.

Father Kim Jungsu.

You don’t how much time passes, but before you know it, you see his window, glowing in the night with a faint yellow light.

You don’t even think about it - you run up the steps, heart pounding, and you ring the bell.

When the door opens, the warm light spills out over your figure - drenched, shivering, breathless. On the other hand, he’s standing there, wearing a soft, dark gray sweater and blue denim jeans - casual, relaxed and so ordinary. It makes him even more… real and present.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe as you glance away from his eyes widened from distress. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Instantly, his expression shifts from many emotions washing over him all at once. Confusion, concern, apprehension… something softer.

“It’s all right,” he says, stepping aside to let you in. “You’re safe here.”

The door clicks shut behind you and the world outside - the rain, the noise, your aunt… all fade into a distant blur. Then, his calm voice speaks, anchoring you.

“Take your time.”

He moves quietly, slipping into the next room and returning with a zip-up hoodie, just a few shades lighter than his sweater.

When you hesitate, caught mid step, he steps close behind you, guiding your arms into the sleeves.

“You’re soaked,” he murmurs with a low, soft voice. “Come, sit if you need to.”

You sink into one of the kitchen chairs, your muscles finally relaxing in the comfort of his hoodie.

Jungsu hands you a towel, then proceeds moving around the small space, glancing back at you. “Would you like something to drink?” he asks. Now, his voice is slightly more tense, but still carrying that undertone of care you learned to love.

“Whatever you have,” you reply. “Thank you.”

He nods, pouring a cup of milk from the fridge, then sets it carefully on the table in front of you. The gesture is simple yet it feels intensely personal, and your chest flutters.

Jungsu lingers near the counter, eyes flicking toward you every now and then, silently checking if you’re okay. He watches you slowly lift the cup to your mouth, and it’s like for a moment time itself slows around you. When you take a sip, he swallows, mirroring you without thinking. He watches the small tilt of your head, the soft exhale that follows when you place the cup back to its place. He watches you lick your lips, and his mouth waters as he remembers their softness… how they welcomed his tongue with ease.

He turns his gaze, ashamed of the thoughts he cannot seem to quiet; disgusted with himself for thinking of anything other than the fact that you’re hurting.

“Better?” he asks finally.

You nod, pressing the towel against your chest before running it slowly down your leg. “We went out for dinner, family friends and all,,” you begin; the event already feels like a distant memory, but you can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing. “At one point, she excused herself and didn’t come back for… twenty minutes. So I went to check on her, and…” you pause, exhaling shakily, “she was with someone.”

“Your aunt?” he asks, though he already knows the answer. Nothing else could have left you this shaken.

“Yeah,” you let out a soft, unsteady laugh, looking down as you grip the towel. “I’ve never seen her smile like that.”

Jungsu lets out a slow breath, crossing his arms as he moves to the other side of the room. He stops near the darkened window, shoulders tense.

You swallow hard before continuing. “She looked so happy. Living an entirely different life behind my back.” You pause again as the hurt twists deeper. “All this time she preached to me about sin, purity and honesty… and she’s been cheating on my uncle.”

Your voice cracks and the rest of your sentence breaks off.

Jungsu turns immediately at the sound, all of his hesitation gone. The sight of you trying to stop your tears pulls him forward before he can even think; the distance between you closing in an instant.

He’s beside you before you can look up, crouching slightly to meet your eyes. “People fail,” he says softly, as if speaking too loudly might shatter what’s left of you.. “Even the ones who teach us not to.”

You press a hand to your face, trying to stop the shaking. “I don’t care that she’s seeing someone. It’s the lies… everything I believed just—”

The tears come fast, heavy, spilling past your fingers.

Jungsu reaches out, wrapping fingers around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your face. His thumb brushes against your cheek, catching them as they keep coming.

“I don’t understand,” you choke out.

“You don’t have to make sense of it rght now,” he whispers. “Just breathe.”

But you can’t. You gasp with an aching sound, the towel slipping to the floor.

Jungsu pulls you close, your face pressing into his chest. His sweater smells faintly of detergent, and you cry harder - deep, painful; the kind that comes when you’ve been holding too much inside for too long.

Kneeling in front of you, he circles your waist. His arms are steady and patient, holding you together while you fall apart. For a while, there’s only the sound of your sobs, echoing in the small kitchen.

When your breathing finally starts to calm, he tilts his head upon the quiet sound of your voice; it’s hoarse, lower than usual…broken in a way that makes his throat close.

“It’s always the same. I keep hoping, but…” you pause, feeling him tighten his hold on you. “Everyone lies… It hurts.”

This is when it hits him the hardest - the flash of anger, sharp and sinful in his chest. He’s not supposed to feel like this. He’s always been taught that anger is pride in disguise, that judgment isn’t his to hold. But he’s angry.

He’s angry at the people who broke you like this. He hates that you’re sitting here, crying because the ones you trusted most chose deceit. And worst of all, he hates that he’s angry.

His hand moves gently along your back as your tears soak through his sweater. He wants to promise you that he’ll keep all the pain away from you, that he’ll make it right somehow, but he knows he can’t.

And yet… he can’t stop the tought burning inside him. If God won’t protect you, he will.

“You don’t deserve any of this,” he mutters, rough but quiet. “They don’t get to hurt you like that.”

You pull back, your eyes finally meet. His words hang between you like a prayer and a promise at once.

There’s a tremor behind his gaze. He’s fighting the part of him that feels too much, that wants too much, and doesn’t know if that makes him a sinner or simply a human.

For a moment you can’t speak. The man who inspires devotion in a room full of strangers now kneels before you. And there’s flicker of protectiveness in his eyes, of frustration at himself for not being able to shield you from the world.

He lifts a hand toward you, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb as your heart keeps thudding against your ribs; the gesture a vast contrast to the evident tension in his jaw.

“If I could take it from you, I would,” he says. “All of it.”

You look at him, really look, and you realise it - despite all his faith and restraint, he’s just as lost right now as you are.

“I know,” you whisper, nodding once. Your eyes are hot and heavy, half-lidded as you take in how beautiful he is.

His eyes flick downward for half a second, like he’s silently asking for strength or forgivness.

However, he drags his fingetips along your leg instead - slowly, from your ankle to your knee.

You’re not wearing tights, and his breath falters at the nice feeling of your bare skin, the edge of your white cotton sock brushing against him. It all sends a shiver down his spine he can’t disguise.

He angles his head and his lips trace a slow, deliberate path upward, making your skin prickle. Parting them just enough, he drags them up your inner thigh, trailing warm, open mouthed kisses.

His hands find your hips, fingers curling around the fabric of your dress as his mouth moves more fluently.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes into the softness of your thigh.

You stay silent. You’re not sure who he’s apologising to - you, himself or God who’s supposed to be in the room with you right now.

You swallow hard, feeling your body flush with heat as his tongue grazes your plush flesh.

The way his heavy breathing gets closer and further between your legs sends a tingling sensation to your core, and you bite the corner of your lip, unable to stay still anymore.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice dropping half a note, tender in a way that has your tummy swirling. “You’re so devastatingly beautiful… I don’t want to see you hurt.”

When he lifts his gaze, your heart almost stops beating from the gleam inside it, a mixture between hunger and affliction. For a breathless second you’re certain you’re dreaming, that you’re only imagining his words, his touch, but the warmth spreading through you as he draws you closer says otherwise.

His hands lift up the hem of your dress, revealing the most intimate parts of you. The view of your panties has him swallowing thickly as you spread your legs for his stare. Before you can say anything, he plants an open mouthed kiss just above the waistband, then another one, even more sensual and slow - on your clothed clit.

Then, his tongue dips out slowly, dragging up your folds.

Peering through your lashes, you watch his eyes flutter shut, unfamiliar lust radiating off him like perfume the more he allows his tongue to move. You feel it lick again, then again, flattening, grinding in the center of your folds, tasting, exploring this new and thrilling territory.

A small sound of bliss escapes him before Jungsu can stop it, his throat going dry as he can feel a certain wetness starting to form. His lips suck through the barrier, making every muscle in your body draw tight like a bowstring.

You let out a breathy moan just before he pulls back to see the darkening fabric. He stares at it with heavy eyes, then gently presses his fingertips to feel it, immediately looking up as you whine at the motion.

You’re completely mesmerised by the way he looks at you.

“I want to make you feel better,” he says, applying light pressure as he strokes up and down. When he bumps into your clothed entrance he can almost feel it pulse as he watches how your body responds. “I want to make you feel good.”

Within a minute, your underwear is gone, your fingers tangled in his dark hair as you slouch in the chair. Every drop of arousal that leaks out of your cunt is devoured like a sweet nectar, the sloppy motions sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

“So sweet… you taste unreal.” Jungsu gasps in between your puffy folds, enjoying the way you tremble, legs shaking around him with each roll of his tongue. “I can’t believe how sweet you are.”

In awe, he cannot stop whispering praises directly into your heat. The fan of his excited breath makes your stomach knot tighter while one of his hands removes your socks to massage your feet.

“I’m… so c-close…” you whimper, hips slightly rolling against his face. “Please…”

Your shaky voice has Jungsu detaching his lips, reddish and shiny with your slick. His eyes darken in a way you’ve never seen before as he takes in the sight of your dripping pussy, your small hole fluttering.

“Everything about you is so pretty,” he murmurs, inhaling your scent as he quickly leans in again, capturing your sensitive bud; he sucks and twirls around it, making your spine arch in pleasure.

His hands shift back to your hips to steady you. The tip of his tongue swirls deliberately as he carefully studies your body language, memorising every action that makes you shudder, squirm and moan louder.

Feeling him bring a finger to your entrance, you grip the table with one hand for support. He only traces up and down, too wary to push into it.

“Put it in,” you plead, tugging at his sweater. You’re too drunk on the rush to consider what he might think of you for asking so shamelessly. “Father, please… I need it.”

In an instant, Jungsu slips through your walls to meet your request - patient, slowly stretching the area while giving you what you need to near ultimate pleasure. The grief on your face still lingers in his mind and now every movement he makes carries a quiet promise - that you won’t have to feel that way anymore. He wants to replace every tear you shed with warmth instead.

“Fuck—” your head lulls backwards.

And he can’t quite grasp it… how incredibly rousing he finds you like this - spread wide open, cursing freely, choking on your words like he’s draining the air from your lungs. All for him - a man of the cloth.

But that’s not exactly how you see him, is it? You see past that - past the collar, the discipline and his calm exterior.

He begins moving his digit inside you, back and forth. It feels so hot and tight, he inhales sharply as something in his own core pools. “Like this?” he asks, glancing at you with glazed over eyes.

You nod twice, unable to do any other movement except rock into his touch, urging him deeper and faster. “Yes, just like that…” Then, unknowingly, your other hand reaches out, caressing the side of his face.

Your toes curl in the air the moment he dives back in, tongue moving in a faster rhythm this time. Below, you begin to throb hard, like you have a second heartbeat. Your moans of pleasure echo in the air, growing high pitched by the second.

Captivated by the state of enrapture you’re falling into, Jungsu smoothly pushes one more finger inside you, making you mewl at the wider stretch. His head moves side to side, tongue applying the perfect friction on your sensitive spot as his spit dribbles down your cunt.

“I’m gonna—” your breath hitches, your eyes squeezing shut.

Jungsu keeps his tongue rolling, savoring the taste of your arousal.

The pulsing around his fingers as they rub your walls intensifies when you cry out, going completely rigid for a moment - only to quiver against his mouth once the rush buzzes through you. His free hand roams along your thigh as your legs close around his head - not to stop you, but to silently assure you that he’s got you.

The kitchen is silent for a while; there’s warm thickness that doubles as you both acknowledge what you have just done.

Jungsu straightens his back, face decorated with a tint of pink blush. The same hand that brought you on your orgasm stops to rest on his thigh, unsure what follows next.

That’s when you notice the bulge, trapped by the confines of the denim.

You guide your foot forward, rubbing in light patterns; your mouth waters as you picture how flushed and hard he must be.

Jungsu can only stare down helplessly. So many perverted images flood his mind, all revolving around you; images he shouldn’t be welcoming in his head let alone consider.

But he allows them to unfold. A rush of precum leaks from his cockhead, staining his underwear.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You murmur softly, moving back your foot.

You catch an uneven breath leave his mouth as he fails to meet your eyes. So you stand up, still in his zip-up hoodie. “I should go,” you hear yourself utter.

However, a firm grip around your arm stops you from taking another step.

In a matter of seconds, Jungsu raises to his feet, pressing you against the edge of the wooden table. His mouth, warm and glistening under the light, captures your lips. His hands cup your face, securing you in place as his thumbs brush your cheeks stained with dried tears.

He’s never felt this kind of hunger before - the kind that burns through reason as you moan between his sensual kisses.

He refuses to loosen his grip when you tug at his belt, unbuckling it with swift movements; the clink of metal rings out in the othewise silent kitchen.

Soon, his cock springs free, bouncing up toward his abdomen. When he pulls back, exhaling deeply from the addictive taste of your lips, he looks down, eyes widening at how close your hand is.

The desire overpowers the feeling of trepidation, and he makes no move to stop you.

The sexual frustration is dizzying as he watches you wrap fingers around his erection, stroking with a confident yet gentle motion. His jaw falls slack, breath hitching as you don’t shy away from repeating the steady movements, magnifying the heat curling inside him.

“It’s my turn to take care of you, now…” you whisper lovingly near his trembling lips. You wish you can memorise every small twitch his face makes for you in this current moment, so handsome and rapturous. “Has another girl ever touched you like this before?” you ask at once.

You bring your fist higher, smearing the collected precum along his length. The uninterrupted action pulls out a long, desperate moan out of him before he shakes his head, exhaling a small no.

Relief blooms in your chest as you realise he’s never had something even close to this with anyone else. It’s you and only you. The thought makes your heart swell with warmth and contentment.

This moment, this connection… it’s entirely yours.

Before he can stop himself, with palms still on your face, Jungsu starts panting your name. His brows knit together, sweat begins to trickle down his temple as he feels himself losing all composure because of your experienced touch.

Your eyes do not leave him out of sight, he looks and sounds absolutely captivating. That same sense of purpose you feel when listening to him during mass floods back; stronger, deeper. Swiftly, you take a second to spit in your palm before proceeding the strokes. “Yeah? Feels nice?”

Overwhelmed, Jungsu lets his head fall on your shoulder, unable to look at you as he’s on the verge of breaking. A brief whine drops from his tongue as a response - one of many irrepressible noises that won't stop escaping his throat the more your grip moves, pleasing and slick; it’s starting to speed up, wet noises erupting from below where he doesn’t dare to look.

Heat rises to his cheeks. He feels like he can’t hold it in much longer, like something inside him is going to be teared apart any second now. “I can’t,” he stutters breathless, but his thought ends there.

His voice shatters weakly, an elongated whine heating your neck as the pressure bursts. For a moment the sensation almost has him lose his footing, his mind going blank.

The warm arousal shoots out of his swollen tip, trickling down your hand, a few white streaks landing messily on your dress. Your fist eases before stopping completely, allowing the relief to settle under his skin, warm, heavenly.

As much as his dick twitching in your palm, and his arousing moans ringing at your ear turned you on, nothing can compare to the thrilling look in his dazed eyes where faith and sin intertwine - like he’d take anything you decide to give him, and nothing can stop him.

With vision fixated upon him, you move on your knees. His hoodie drops to the tiled floor, then your mouth welcomes his still hard length, enveloping him in an imensive warmth. Your lips wrap tightly around the slick head, sucking every bead of arousal lingering.

Jungsu moans shakily at the sharp sensation, not thinking as his hand fists in your hair. You, on the other hand, hum blissfully as you savor his salty taste.

“Ah—” his body trembles as your lips detach with a lewd, wet pop, tongue flicking out to swirl around the swollen tip.

He’s unable to take his eyes off you as you slowly lean forward, trying to fit more of him into your mouth. The stretch of your cheeks looks almost painful as you control your breath, eyes fluttering shut as you focus on relaxing your throat.

Jungsu’s jaw flexes as another inch disappears through your puffy lips, clouding his mind with a fog. Then, feeling sweat across the back of his neck, he grabs the hem of his sweater, pulling it over his head and tossing it on the table behind you.

“Sweetheart…” His touch returns, stroking the top of your head gently. “Is this alright?” The words stumble steadier than he expects.

He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing an unstable sound. It’s undeniable - the wave of rapture your mouth provokes. But the thought of that causing you even the smallest discomfort twists something inside him.

Slowly, you drag your lips back to his cockhead. Then, you unwrap them through a light suck.

It takes you a second to realise you’re staring up at him, eyes wide and hazy, heart tripping over itself from the sight of his naked chest. But then… sweetheart. You’ve been called that before, but not like this.

The tension in the air shifts when Jungsu sees the corners of your mouth curve.

“I love it,” you reply softly, making his breath still.

You stand, finally stripping from your dress. The cloth slips from your shoulders, pooling soundlessly at your feet.

Jungsu’s gaze follows every inch revealed, almost hypnotised. He doesn’t move at first, only his throat bobs when he swallows, hands flexing at his sides.

Then, he twitches in the air, blood flowing into his cock again.

You can’t deny the rush that floods your chest when the realisation hits - you’re standing bare before him, completely exposed. A shiver of nervousness runs through you until he steps closer, like a man approaching something sacred. In one effortless motion, he lifts you into his arms, and every flicker of doubt melts away, replaced by the dizzying thrill of his hold.

You hardly get a glimpse of his room - you’re gently tossed on his bed, the mattress dipping beneath you as he follows. He completely steals your focus; toned stomach, muscled arms, warm chest heaving in an excited rhythm as he hovers over you. His dark hair falls over his forehead when he leans in, searching for your lips.

“You drive me crazy,” he breaks the silence before capturing you in another breathtaking kiss.

Lightheaded, you place hands on the sides of his neck. It feels like it’s just the two of you in this world, and you want to stop time, so you can feel like this forever.

When he inserts himself inside you, the first few seconds it feels overwhelming - too much, too big, - but then, it feels perfect, like he’s made for you.

He starts off slow, massaging your gummy walls with precise, sensual slides that allow you to get used to the stretch. However, soon, he begins thrusting like a man who’s losing all composure.

“So… ah! You’re so—t-tight!” he tries to steady his voice, but the effort breaks with every word he manages to say. “It feels amazing… like you were made for me.” He buries his face against your neck, trying to silence his shaky moans that escape with each hit of his hips.

His body is sweating, clinging to you desperately as you hold onto him, nails sinking into his muscular back.

Each time his tip reaches that sweet spot inside you, it feels like the air is being knocked out of your lungs; your pussy walls spasm, sucking him in tighter and tighter.

The sounds of skin against skin intensifies as the heat between you makes everything around you feel like a blur. Soon, the rush will be too much to bare; you can feel it in the way your core scorches.

“Jungsu—”

Jungsu’s brain is hazy, as if all of his thoughts turned into smoke the second he slipped inside you. The only thing reaching him is the filthy sounds your fluids create every time your bodies connect deeply, reminding him over and over again that this is reality. There’s no coming back from this.

But then, the sound of your strained voice whining his name cuts through the haze, grounding him completely.

He hums, searching for your eyes. His body slows, your hands grasp onto him tighter. “Am I…” he says, low and hot. “I’m sorry, am I going too fast? Did I hurt you?”

Swallowing, you slightly shift your hips, already needing him as deep as possible. “Don’t stop, please… it’s perfect.”

He takes a second longer to look at you before confessing: “I like hearing you say my name.” His lips press gently to your forehead, your eyes closing at the comforting gesture.

Almost immediately, he revives the needy rhythm, hips slamming sloppily into you. The sounds are lewd and harsh, clashing with his shaky pants and whimpers. “I’m sorry,” he says again despite your assurance, a tear falling from the corner of his eye.

The need for relief he felt earlier becomes nearly unbearable, washing over the lingering guilt; the pleasure you offer him with your body being only one can dream about is enough to make him want to cry.

Your voice cracks with emotion beneath him as he fastens further, your nails dragging rough lines on the surface of his back.

With the current sensation stirring inside him, with the way he throbs, lost deeper and deeper through every new drag - he won’t be able to stop a second time even he wanted to.

“I’m sorry, my dove.” He whispers in a rush, every breath a tremor. “Just… can’t h-help it—can’t get enough of you.” His lips brush against your cheek, catching another tear; yours or his own, he can’t tell.

He shifts backwards, his muscled back suddenly straight, flexing beneath stinging, red scratches. Both of his hands grasp onto your thighs, keeping them wide open so he can see you take his manhood. The view is wet, noisy, like you’re struggling to keep up with him, yet you don’t want to let him go as you keep leaking all over his sheets.

It’s such an impactful visual experience that not a minute later he shudders mid-thrust, like he’s been short circuited.

His head tips back, jaw going slack as euphoria passes through his whole body. The second his vision turns white, creamy arousal spilling inside you, he wonders if he’s finally reached the gates of heaven.

The thrill is intense, bringing slight overstimulation as he makes the last few pumps the exact moment your own orgasm snaps.

As the fog inside his mind dissipates, though slowly, he realises he cannot escape the staggering sensation of your climaxes clashing at the same time; he cannot recover from the fact he liked bringing you pleasure while a part of him is inside you even better.

When you curl beside him, limbs heavy, skin still humming with warmth, you rest your head against his chest and let your eyes flutter shut.

“I don’t want to stop needing you.” You admit quietly.

Maybe this is what faith is meant to look like, you think. Two people simply holding on to each other when it gets too dark.

copyright © joocomics 2025 all rights reserved. do not repost, copy or translate my works on any platforms.

♡ taglist 1: @sweet-dreaming-girl @zelinkcrossing @seomisaho @la-grenouille-posts @gaonification @joo-jiseok @devilish-meangadh @goyangiwonbin @f-fuyuma

Gunil’s hands grip the arms of the chair they’re tied to, but his knuckles ease as your voice reaches him from behind; the soothing sound uncoils the tension that’s been piling up inside him all day, his eyes flutter shut as he surrenders to your words and touch.

“I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” Your head tilts with a smile on your lips as you look down, finally pushing the toy fully around him.

His cock is solid hard, nicely slick from your spit, and the silicone shape effortlessly swallows him, walls applying pressure from all sides. You earn a breathy moan from his parted lips, and that encourages you to make the first few drags.

“Feels nice?” You ask softly, unable to look away from the sight below… where his naked thighs occasionally quiver, and his abs tense until you bring the toy back to his tip and they relax again.

Gunil nods, breathing out a quick yeah before he whines, voice cracking - your hand stills in place, keeping the base of his cock squished from the insides of the transparent shape; red tip leaking as the rush curls strongly in his core.

After a brief moment, you drag the fleshlight up, then force it back down more eagerly.

Gunil squirms in the process, face contorted with pure rapture just for you, but the restraints keep him from doing anything else. The only thing he can do is free the sounds creeping in his throat as the slick silicone rubs his cock, making his exposed skin hotter, balls harder.

“Mm, you’re doing so good for me, handsome.” You bite your lip, picking up the pace a little bit.

The earlier sensual tugs transform into sped up thrilling motions; your hand, possessing full control over the experience, grips tightly and secure. The lewd wet noises grow louder, same with your boss’s whining.

“Yeah, let it out…” you murmur satisfied, wanting to hear every little sound he can make. “Don’t hold back.”

If you focus enough, you can almost feel him throbbing through the silicone, heat radiating from his tense body.

His mouth stays open as you precisely work the fleshlight, the camera on the near desk recording you chase the release he so desperately needs; the relief and satisfaction he deserves.

The pleas which soon follow begin to tremble as they drop one by one from his watering mouth; he begs you to keep going, eyes squeezed shut as the steady rhythm of your grip brings his climax closer.

And what a sight he is… you can’t help but let out a few small moans of your own. You’re enjoying this too much… watching your boss submitting to you, arching and whimpering. A pink ribbon around each wrist as a reminder to stay still.

With tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes once his cum shoots into the fleshlight, and the warm relief finally settles under his skin.

♡ taglist 1: @sweet-dreaming-girl @zelinkcrossing @seomisaho @la-grenouille-posts @gaonification @joo-jiseok @devilish-meangadh @goyangiwonbin @asterr1sk

♡ taglist 2: @noonesheretoloveyou @antonsluckycharm @jsbluu @dazed-and-confused101 @certifiedmarkleetrash @mikaelless @elllisaaa @donnasinner05 @starryeyedheroes @xhfics

my cutie jungsu ♡: hi baby :-) im otw home!! got things done early

you: yay!!!!!!! i cant wait to see u i miss u so much :((

my cutie jungsu ♡: [IMG_626]

my cutie jungsu ♡: i miss you too :-( i didnt get to show u my outfit before i left cuz i wanted u to sleep in

you gasp and kick your feet excitedly seeing the selfie he sent. the picture was taken at a higher angle, only showing the lower half of his face. your eyes zone in on his plump, pink lips that were pursed up cutely. he was sat down, showing off his outfit of the day, arm slumped in between his legs that were spread apart. the shirt he had on was loosely fit, draping off slightly to expose a bit of his neck and collarbone. your eyes widened as they wandered down to look at the pants he had on, the flesh of his thighs exposed through the rips and holes. you thank gravity for the visual of his muscles fighting to stay contained in the fabric that was more tight around his thighs. veins subtly trailed up the hand that was resting in between his legs, wrist decorated with a few dainty bracelets. you gulp nervously, stopping yourself from drooling on yourself as you burned the image of his thighs into your mind.

you swipe out and shake your head realizing you didn't respond yet, reacting the picture with a heart.

you: why do you look so sexy today bebe its like you want me to eat you up >:)

the typing bubble pops in and out, smiling to yourself when you imagine his face heating up from your sudden attack. you never held back expressing your love towards jungsu, especially your attraction. it would be hard not to if you had someone like him in your life. he was always shy whenever you would complment him or randomly attack him with kisses. seeing his face flush quickly and his eyes flutter when he was embarrassed only fueled you to do it as much as you can. it's not like you were the only one doing this though!

even you struggled a bit to get used to how clingy he got throughout the relationship. if jungsu wasn't touching you in some way, he would die. he loved holding your hand or having his arm around your shoulders whenever you're outside, overcoming the inital shyness of PDA over time. even at home, he needs to have atleast one body part to be touching yours. if you're sitting next to each other, his hand is resting on your thigh. if you're cuddling in bed, he's using all of his long limbs to trap you so you don't leave. if you're sitting there existing, he'll get cuteness aggression and squish your face like it were made of mochi. your favorite thing he does is when he rubs his head against yours, appearing the most cat-like in those moments. after a few minutes of the bubble popping in and out, jungsu is only able to send a flushed emoji back, making you giggle.

your head perks up when you hear the sound of the door being unlocked. quickly rolling out of bed, your socks slide against the floor as you try to greet him before he opens the door.

"i'm home!" jungsu calls out as he swings the door open, looking down as he slips his shoes off. he didn't even get a chance to close the door behind him before you jumped up to wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him into an embrace. this squeezes a small grunt of surprise out of him, his arms immediately reaching around you. you take the chance to hold his face and pepper sweet kisses all over it, making him giggle.

"i missed you too." he reciprocates the smooches, making sure the last kiss lasts a few seconds longer on your lips. you let out a small chuckle and beam back at him before giving him space to put his things down and take his shoes off. the other isn't even able to take another step forward, immediately latching onto him and burying your face in his neck. you feel yourself relaxing into him as you take in his warmth and scent, arms tightly wrapped around his waist.

"i'm happy you're off early. i missed you so much, i barely get to be awake to see you jungsu…" you whine, rocking him side to side. his hands are gentle, positioned on your hips as he follows your movement.

"and we both have a day off tomorrow. the world heard our prayers and finally lined our schedules up." he smiled, pushing forward to make you waddle into the living room, plopping onto the couch. you let go for a brief moment to look down at him, scanning over the outfit you saw in his text earlier. his thighs expand as they press into the cushion, opening up the stringy holes that decorate the front of the jeans. your eyes meet, his head tilting slightly, wondering why you aren't sitting down with him.

you place your hands on his broad shoulders for support as you sit down on his lap. his mouth twitches into a smirk, holding onto your waist to help you keep stable. the texture of his jeans against the skin of your legs sends a shiver down your spine, the thin fabric of your shorts doing nothing to separate your bottom from where you sit. during all of this, you haven't said a word, making the other scan for your expression.

"what's my cutie been up to today?" he asks softly, thumbs rubbing comfortable circles where he held. you notice how his eyes sparkle as you gaze at each other, making you smile.

"hmm… slept in… thought about you." you kiss him softly, now notci† hands sliding down to rest on his chest as you lean back to study his outfit. his ears are flushed into a soft pink, breath hitching subtly when he feels your hands stop at his chest.

"especially after you sent that selfie," one hand trails down, stopping at the top of his thigh, the other following the movement. your nail scrapes over the rips, tickling the skin underneath and making his leg twitch under you. "when did you even get a pair of jeans like this?" jungsu gulps nervously from your change of demeanor and touch, eyes trembling.

"i-i got them a while ago. just haven't gotten around to wearing them until now." the pads of his fingers tap against you, his face feeling more hot as he notices how you're looking at him as you hum in response. it was so cute to see how easy it was to make jungsu blush, your lips curling into a smile. you reposition yourself to sit on one thigh, squeezing down on the one you were already touching as you used it as leverage. your face twitches, fighting back a whine when you feel his muscle twitch against your core.

your hand drags down to a bigger rip, toying with the frays and feel the skin peeking out, smooth in comparison to the rough texture of the jeans. "these jeans are cute. you fill them out nicely." you say failing to hide the lustful tone in your voice. "i guess i can thank your daily runs for that?" you feign innocence, tilting your head at him and bat your lashes.

jungsu's eyes flutter back, blinks becoming quick and uneven. "yeah- the runs… glad you noticed," his lips quivering into a shy smile. the male's chest starts to rise harder, eyes quivering as they dart back and forth between your face and where you touch him. you press your lips against his, the grip on your waist tightening as you start to lean into him. his lips feel soft, tasting remnants of his lip balm, humming in satisfaction when you being to deepen the kiss. as you close in the distance between your bodies, your knee lightly bumps against his center, making the other whimper. this sends shivers down to your core, laughing softly hearing him fight back his own noises.

he pulls you back and gasps for air, face flushed a deep red, and lips slightly swollen. your gaze doesn't hide the lewd thoughts running through your mind, feeling a little disappointed that he pulled you off of him. you shift your weight to press your core into the muscle of his thigh. his hard on is visible against the tight material of his jeans, pushing your knee as you subtly rotate your hips around.

"what's going on with you baby? did you miss me that badly?" he teases, pulling you down by the waist when he notices you practically riding his thigh. your face scrunches up, letting out a moan as his muscle digs into your core, pushing the fabric of your bottoms into your folds. jungsu smirks, seeing you desperately get off from just his thigh. the pleading look on your face makes his breath hitch, dick twitching against the confinements of his jeans.

"of course i did… you even show up wearing- this!" you pout, tugging at one of the rips. he laughs softly, kissing you on the cheek before sliding his hands down to your exposed thighs. your hips twitch, chasing the warmth of touch. he squeezes the soft flesh, slowly making his way towards your ass and dragging it down to guide your movement. there's a cocky smile that doesn't leave his face as he watches you whine against him.

"you're so cute… all riled up because of me," he says with a low voice, fingers toying with the hem of your underwear, pulling it back to apply pressure against your clit. you whimper, grabbing his shoulder tightly to stop yourself from falling onto him. a finger hooks around your panties, keeping it tugged against your core, hands guiding you to grind against his thigh harder. jungsu's breaths are heavy, lips slightly parted as he studies your expression with each flex of his muscle.

"fuck jungsu…" it's difficult to hold back your moans, clit sensitive to every guided motion of your hips. his shirt is bunched up under your fist as you steady yourself, throwing your head back. he quickly takes the chance to attach his lips to your neck, groaning while he decorates it with blooming red marks. as your movements intensify, your knee inadvertently rubs against his hard on straining through the rough fabric. he peppers kisses up your neck, stifling his own moans to take the noises you make — your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you. he's practically buried his face into your hair as you whine directly in his ear.

"come on baby, i know you can go harder," he growls against you, making your back curve more in attempt to get a wider range of motion. "you're so needy… getting off on my thigh."

at this point, your slick has leaked through all the way to the surface of his jeans. his grip on your ass is sure to leave marks on your skin, using a considerable amount of strength to guide you to your climax. your breath stutters as you feel yourself getting closer, the other smiling when he hears your moans getting higher pitched. you stumble profanities, your arms tightening around jungsu as you use all of your pent up energy to grind faster.

he whispers sweet praises in your ears as you seize, crying out in pleasure as you cum, your bottom half twitching almost violently. jungsu's hands slip out from under your shorts, one supporting you from your lower back and the other going up to hold your head against his shoulder.

"you did so good for me," he says with a gentle voice, brushing the hair out of your face before kissing your temple. the twitching of your hips causes your clit to bump against where you sit, whining from the shots of overstimulation. the hand on your back rubs soothing circles as you catch your breath, jungsu continuing to pepper kisses over face. you lean back enough to capture his lips with yours, immediately groaning into it as your tongues intertwine in a deep kiss. you can feel him smile against you, amused at how quick you recovered.

your hand snakes down, lightly squeezing his chest first, then landing on his very prominent bulge. the sensation startles him a little, bucking his hips into your touch. your thumb traces over the tip, playing with the wet spot that formed. he lets out a particularly loud groan that makes you feel tingly, hole twitching in anticipation. you lightly tug at his plump bottom lip before pulling away, grabbing as much of his length as you can through the fabric.

"i need you to fuck me right now," you say softly against his ear with enough sterness in your voice to get the demand across. his expression darkens, whispers sending shivers straight down to his dick. you weren't one to ask him so explicitly, but knowing how desperate both of you were, it felt like the only right way to do it. he grabs hold of your wrist and puts it back on his chest, not wanting to cum in his pants (even though he almost did earlier).

"easy baby, i gotta stretch you out first." he lets out a soft hearted laugh seeing you whine in frustration. "you know it's been a while."

he feigns a sense of self-control, hands moving impatiently to take your bottons off and opting to pull them to the side, smirking at the how soaked they were. he traces his thick finger up your slit, coating it in your wetness before teasing your hole. his gaze is focused on you, watching your face contort in pleasure and feeling you tremble with the other hand that's keeping you held up. your thighs shake, attempting to keep yourself up, using his broad shoulder as a head rest. you moan loudly, his finger slipping into your throbbing hole — jungsu's eyebrows furrow at how tightly you're clamping around him, mouth hanging open as he groans. it takes a few shallow pumps of his finger until he can slip the entirety of it, hooking the tip against the soft spot. you claw at his chest, muffling your whimpers into his shirt that soaks up some of the drool.

"you're soaked… did you make yourself cum that hard on my thigh?" he says, slight mocking tone seeping through. "my cute y/n… let me make you feel good with my fingers, yeah?"

it doesn't take much for him to fit a second finger in, your hips grinding into the palm of his hand as you feel him stretch you out. his fingers feel so big inside of you, the sensations being amplified from your previous orgasm. he bites his lip into a smirk as he sets a gentle pace, occasionally making a scissor motion to make sure you were really stretched out for him. after all, his cock is on the thicker side and he knows you'll hurt yourself trying to impatiently fit all of him.

"c'mon y/n i know you can cum on my fingers. you came so well on my thigh…" he teases with a low voice. the sounds of his fingers in you fill the room along with your drawn out moans.

he hits a particular spot, making your entire body jolt, biting onto his shoulder to stop yourself from screaming out too loud. he winces from the sting, forearm flexing as he continues to thrust his fingers against the same spot. his free hand reaches up to lift your head so that you're looking at each other, softly kissing you. you attempt to kiss back, only able to moan into his mouth as you feel your climax approaching quickly as the pads of his fingers continue to hit your g-spot. he doesn't let up, increasing the speed of his fingers, palm pressing harshly against your clit.

"o-oh my… f-fuckk i'm close-" profanities are slurred together, eyes clenching as your orgasm creeps up on you. jungsu is locked in on your changing expression, his own body shaking from how hard he was pumping his fingers in you. you cry out as you cum, your entire body trembling as that lightning sensation runs through. he groans with you, savouring how you twitch around his fingers, your hole gripping around tightly.

"shit… you did so good baby," he wiggles his fingers a little, making you whine out from the overstimulation. you feel lightheaded from the praise, going limp against him as you pant heavily. your hands shake, attempting to undo his belt, but fail as they fumble around. the male laughs, slowly pulling his fingers out and admiring the sticky mess you left behind. he uses his other hand to easily pull the belt off, unzipping to pull his cock out. his face scrunches, mixing his precum with the mess left on his hand, shuddering as he breathes out. you lick your lips as you watch him stroke his thick length, resisting the urge to throw your leg and sinking it all in one go.

he hisses as he squeezes the base, twitching from sensitivity. you nudge at him, eyes desperate and pleading when your gazes meet. all you can think about is having him inside of you after so long, despite barely being able to keep yourself up straight. a hand comes up to guide your leg over so that you're sitting comfortably in his lap, dick pressed hotly against your ass. your thighs shake as you lift your hips for jungsu to pull your shorts to the side again, your hand reaching down to direct the tip of his cock to your eager hole.

jungsu clenches his jaw suppressing a moan, collecting your slick as it slips between your folds. when you begin to sink down on him, his hands are quick to grip your ass — mouth gaping open as you barely stretch around him. you bite your lip, getting past the initial burning sensation, letting out a heavy sigh when you envelop the tip of his cock.

"slowly baby…i don't want you to- fuck… hurt yourself," he notices your glassy eyes, a thumb coming up to wipe away a tear that forms in the corner. it's taking all of jungsu's willpower to not thrust upwards, wanting to let you take your time. you whine, nodding against the hand that rests on your face as you pulse your hips, slowly getting used to his width. the warmth of your insides is driving jungsu insane, eyes slightly blown out when he watches his length disappear into you, feeling every twitch of your tight pussy.

your fingers feel for the base of his dick, determining how much left of him you have to take. "why is your stupid cock so big for," you furrow your eyebrows. his chest shakes letting out a breathy laugh, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. it feels like there's so much of him in you already, yet you've only gone down half his length, struggling to adapt to his thickness.

your eyebrows furrow in frustration, just wanting to have all of him inside you. you take a deep breath, gripping his shoulders before you quickly press your hips down, taking the rest of his cock. the sudden stretch makes you cry out, jungsu throwing his head against the couch. his nails dig into the soft flesh of your ass, eyes shut tightly as he tries not to cum on the spot.

"g-god you're so fucking tight-" he groans, the sensation sending chills throughout his entire body. you're filled to the brim, the girth of his dick stretching you out in a way that makes you roll your eyes back in pleasure. your arms shake when you claw at the couch cushions, giving in to your fatigue and falling limp against the male's broad chest. a hand slides around and rests on the back of your head, pulling strands of hair sticking to your sweaty skin away.

the burning sensation goes away after some time, curving your back as you weakly move your hips in small circles. the position pushes his dick deeper, reaching spots his fingers couldn't earlier. you attempt to lift your hips as much as you can, but accidentally slamming down when you lose strength. tears form in the corners of your eyes as you cry out — the intensity of the thrust punching the air out of jungsu's lungs. he pushes your head under his, moans muffling against your hair, dick twitching against your gummy insides. your nose is filled with the smell of his sweat mixed cologne, pressing hot kisses on his neck.

"please jungsu… too tired…" you paw at his chest, lifting your head to look at the other's flushed face. "i need you to fuck into me, please."

his eyes widen for a second, processing your demand before wrapping his arms around you, restricting your arms to your sides. he slides his body down enough to firmly plant his feet against the floor, the motion making his hips buck up. you yelp from the sudden change, mouth hanging open as he starts to thrust intensely. the room fills with lewd sounds of your skin slapping together, each thrust punching loud moans out of you as he groans against you.

"you're so good to me- fuck… your pussy is never gonna forget the shape of my dick after this, i'll make sure of it." he grunts against your ear, emphasizing the promise with slow, concentrated thrusts. he smirks when your walls tighten in excitement, only being able to whine pathetically against him. your mind is blanked out, focusing on how his cock stretches you out perfectly, hitting your sweet spot. he knows you're getting close again with your moans getting higher, increasing the pace.

"f-fuck don't.. please don't s-stop jungsu-" your words melt together, clawing at nothing, his hold too tight around your arms. his eyes shut tightly, feeling his own climax coming. you cry out loudly as you cum, pussy spasming around his cock. jungsu's mouth hang open, bucking his hips roughly before painting your insides. it feels hot, whining as you feel some of it spill out of you. he flinches from the overstimulation when you clench around him tightly, not wanting any more of his cum to leak out. this is the reward you deserve after the week you had and you sure as hell aren't letting it go to waste.

jungsu's brain feels like static, only able to focus on how he can feel every twitch of your walls that don't want to let go. it dawns on him how long it has actually been since you were able to have mind-numbing sex, not feeling satisfied with one round. he missed you so much and had felt so bad when he didn't have time to even talk to you when work was particularly busy. surely he can't stop now if he wants to make it up to you, right?

he peppers soft kisses around your face, lightly squeezing your ass. "you did so good baby… you can go another round right?" there's a hint of desperation in his voice as he goes in to deepen the kiss. he tests the water, pushing your hips down into his cock, making you whine out. another thing you can thank (and curse) jungsu's daily runs for was his increased stamina. the buzzing feeling of your orgasms haven't washed away yet, feeling his length harden again inside of you as he slowly pulses his hips.

you pull back from the kiss with teary eyes and give him a simple nod. what you didn't know was that jungsu's mind was filled with different ways he could fuck you on this couch alone, nervously laughing when you spot his blown out pupils. his hands slide up to your waist, lifting you off of his length before flipping you onto your back. the sudden loss of him makes you yelp, panicking when you feel some of his essence dripping out. he's quick to grab the back of your knees, dragging your drenched bottoms off and propping your hips up with a stray pillow before anymore fluids fall onto the couch.

you hide behind your hands, embarassed at how intensely he's looking at your pussy. he pulls his shirt off, oggling at his chest through the cracks of your fingers, the dampness of his skin accentuating the curves of the muscle. his adam's apple bobs, using a finger to spread open your folds and admiring your sensitive, twitching hole.

"hold yourself up for me. you can do that, right baby?" he grabs your wrist, placing it under the bend of your knees, your other hand coming up to do the same. his dick twitches, appreciating how fucked out you look under him, eyes full of anticipation as you wait for his next move. the cushions dip as he mounts you, hands planted by your head. your hips buck when you feel his heavy cock rest on top of your heat, gulping nervously under his intense stare.

"since you missed me so much," he pauses, pressing his lips against yours, "i'm gonna fuck you into this couch until the only thing you can think about is my cock." his grits, easily sliding his entire length into your stretched hole. you squeak, the impact of him pushing his weight into you preventing any noise from leaving your body. he stills for a second, dropping to his elbows as he reaches even deeper than before. the couch dips under the weight of his arms as he slowly pulls out until only the tip remains, grunting as he slams his hips down. your eyes roll back, the male not giving you any time to rest as he keeps this slow, but intense pace against your heat.

everything feels hot, your bodies sticky where they touch as jungsu mindlessly fucks you into the couch, whispering sweet praises into your ear with each thrust. his body is so pressed into you that you don't even have to hold up your legs anymore and let gravity do its work. your trembling hands come up to claw at his back, feeling it flex under your fingers.

"f-fuck, i know you can take more than this," he starts to pick up the pace, using one hand to bring your ass closer, the tip of his cock repeatively hitting the deepest part of your insides. you're only able to moan and curse in response, leaving claw streaks down his back that sting against the air. jungsu has always been strong, but it has been more apparent than right now, your skin slapping loudly together as his thrusts get quicker.

"you… y-you're so- fucking deep," your voice cracks, pressing your forehead against his shoulder when you pull him closer. "it's too- ngh… too much-"

he lets out a smug laugh, elbows dipping into the cushion as he cages around your body. "you can handle it baby. you've taken so much of me already," his words feel hot against your ear, pressure building up as your climax approaches. you feel like your entire body is buzzing, legs aching from the stretch as he continues to hit that sweet spot in your insides.

"j-jungsu, i'm so close… fuck-" you whimper, weakly slapping his back before digging your nails into them when you feel his thrusts intensify. his arms wrap around your chest, bringing you closer, eyes shut tightly as he groans.

"shit you're so fucking tight… cum on my cock baby, let me fill you up again." he nips at your ear, thrusts becoming erratic as he feels his orgasm creep up. you feel lightheaded as he presses his weight into you, moans rising in pitch. the way your body is curled in puts more pressure on your insides, his cock angled perfectly as it easily slides in and out of your pussy.

"i-i'm cumming- fuck fuck fu-" you cry out, body freezing for a second as your walls clamp down on his length, twitching intensely. jungsu groans feeling you tighten around him, but continues to piston his hip to chase his own high. you squirm under him, the overstimulation becoming too much for you. he places kisses against your head, whispered shushes tickling your ears as his hips start to stutter.

"my pretty y/n- fuck… gonna fill you up…" he moans loudly, using the rest of his energy for a few slow, but powerful thrusts, dick twitching as he fills your hole with his cum. his hips still against yours, hands coming to bring you into a kiss that you weakly whine into. your toes curl in the air, all of the soreness hitting the lower half of your body as you come down from your high.

you take a deep breath as he pulls away, watching his arms shake as he slowly sits up on his knees. your body goes limp against his, whining when you feel his cock inside of you as he moves. his chest heaves, making sure he memorizes how fucked out you look under him. his gaze falls to where you're connected, the sticky mess coating most of your lower parts and a noticeable transluscent white ring that formed around the base of his length.

"i'm pulling out baby," he places a comforting hand on your tummy, carefully retracting his hips. your hips twitch upwards, hole grasping around nothing when he fully pulls out. jungsu swears he can feel his pupils dilate when he sees his cum slowly spill out of you, throat bobbing as he controls himself.

you let out a breathy laugh, body fully slumped against the couch. he smiles back, taking some tissues and wiping up the mess you made, ignoring how some of it already leaked onto the cushions. you grunt as he squeezes himself between you and the back of the couch, pulling you to lay over him. you relax against him, his arms lazily draped over you.

the room is filled with a comfortable silence as you both catch your breath, feeling his chest rise and fall under your head. the weight of his hand is comfortable against your back, legs tangled together.

"take out for dinner?" your voice is hoarse, making you cough a little. he giggles, patting your head softly.

"whatever you want. you deserve it," jungsu kisses your forehead, the warmth of it making you smile.

You hold his cock in place with your fingers - it’s exposed through the undone fly of his jeans, length pressed against your slippery clit.

Each slow grind leaves him more glistening as your arousal smears along his skin, causing it to shine under the mellow light of his bedroom.

You rock back and forth, massaging your sensitive spot, occasionally teasing your entrance but not pushing further inside.

“Wait a little bit longer, bunny,” he says whenever you try.

He keeps humming in pleasure; his voice an alluring mixture of awe and something close to relief as he zooms in on the mess you create together… the slick noise of your folds dragging along his erection fill the space louder than either of you expected.

Eventually your breathing turns heavier, your moves greedier; the moans you let out freely gradually pitch higher, pleading for something more… The way he looks at you, even through the haze, even with the camera between you, you can feel it - he’s devouring you.

And the thrill of it is addictive.

The excitement blooms hot in your chest, making you wonder… if he looks at you like this right now, what about them? The ones who are going to watch later? Will they stare at their screens the same way - so entranced and turned on; maybe touching themselves while imagining what it would be like to have you rubbing yourself against them instead? The idea encourages your hips to keep going; you want to perform well for them, as well as for him.

At once, Hyeongjun exhales, smacking your thigh lightly. “Turn around,” he orders with a low voice, jaw tightening. The tension in his body hints at how badly he wants to drop the camera and just grab you.

He’s been dreaming of moments like this.

“Ah, look at that…” he mutters when you obey; the camera shakes a little as you both adjust. “Bunny’s got such a pretty ass.” The corner of his mouth lifts in a small grin as the soft puff of fur peeking between your cheeks enters the frame. “And a cute little tail.”

You feel the weight of his cock tap against one of your cheeks before he finally pushes inside you, pressing you down against him; moaning at the amazing warmth he suddenly found himself into.

Your walls immediately cling to him desperately as you start to lift yourself, experimenting until you find the right rhythm.

Another moan rips from Hyeongjun’s chest as his eyes stay on your skirt that’s rucked up around your waist, filling the air with faint rustling noise.

“Fuck, baby—your pussy is so tight…” he mutters, punctuating his words with a smack to your ass. The sharp sound clashes with your whimpers, and he slaps again, like the action helps him hold onto his last bits of self-control. “You like having both holes filled up, don’t you? My filthy little pet.”

His eyes flick lower to the white puff of fur wiggling with your movements, then they fixate closely on how beautifully you’re wrapped around him as you slow down. The arousal is dripping out of you, making his mouth water.

You glance back with a needy look, panting. “I love it so much,” you mewl, clutching your skirt so the camera sees everything. “I’m so close, please… can I cum around you?”

“Not yet,” Hyeongjun murmurs, squeezing your hip firmly to easen your pace. “I know you’re excited, bunny, but you’re gonna be patient for me.” He drags his dark nails lightly over your naked skin, then lands another loud smack.

The sting, just like the effects of his words, only blend with the intensity of your pleasure, making you breathe harsher as you proceed riding him, demonstrating the sloppy way he disappears into you.

Your pulse stutters when he suddenly whispers behind you, tense and rushing: “Jump on it.”

It’s not a suggestion, and every syllable tightens the knot of heat in your belly, resulting in your body responding right away. You push yourself up, then drop down, again and again, desperate to keep pulling out those blissful moans of his.

“Fuck… so sexy,” he groans as his hand travels up your waist, fingers tugging roughly at the fabric of your skirt. “Just like that, keep going, baby.”

You slam down harder and his grip strengthens, bruising your side as the clenching around him grows unbearable.

“I… I can’t—”

“Ah, so close, aren’t you?” Hyeongjun’s tone drips with taunt, but his jaw is tight and his eyes are fluttering shut as he stares at the sight below.

The way your ass bounces for him, magnifying the mutual pleasure between you and filling the room with the sounds of wet, frantic slaps; the way your pussy sucks him so needily - he knows he can’t hold it in much longer either.

“Go on, bunny,” he rasps. “Make a mess on my cock.”

The permission has your body stiffen for a moment before it finally gives in, twitching uncontrollably. The orgasm washes over you like a big wave, causing the rhythm to falter.

“Good girl,” he moans, his voice then cracking as he pulls out with a slick pop.

Quickly, his fist closes around his cock just in time for his climax to hit him. Hot and thick spurts paint your ass, staining the plug’s white fluff and the back of your skirt. His elevated sounds of relief spill right into the camera’s mic as he keeps stroking, pulsing hard against his messy fingers, offering you every drop.

The lens catch every quiver of your thighs as you collapse forward, your leaking pussy fluttering without him no longer inside. Hyeongjun lets the camera linger on the view before his gaze briefly flickers down to his jeans that are now stained with your arousal. “What a mess,” he comments lazily despite his smirk stretching wider.

His eyes return to your body. The video zoomes in. “Say thank you.”

♡ taglist 1: @sweet-dreaming-girl @zelinkcrossing @seomisaho @la-grenouille-posts @gaonification @joo-jiseok @devilish-meangadh @goyangiwonbin

♡ taglist 2: @noonesheretoloveyou @antonsluckycharm @jsbluu @dazed-and-confused101 @certifiedmarkleetrash @mikaelless @elllisaaa @donnasinner05 @starryeyedheroes @xhfics

Every shy guy is a freak in secret. Junhan is the OG shy freak.

His fingers are long, really long, it's from all the stretching whenever he's playing his guitar. It's perfect for fingering you too. He absolutely loves seeing you fall apart before he even puts his cock in you.

He inserts two fingers into your sopping cunt, eyes fixed on how his long digits disappears into you. Every time he pulls it out, your slick would drip down to his forearm, his bulge growing harder through his boxers when he sees his painted nails shining and wet.

He loves your pussy. He's a big time munch, his tongue works overtime to overstimulate you. He's grinding his hips on the mattress as he sucks you in.

You're moaning and writhing in his hold, "nngh-- ah-- Junhan.. it-it's too much.!"

Your words weren't registering to him, his mouth letting out the nastiest slurps from between your legs. His eyes close as his mouth drops wide open, he spreads your folds with two of his fingers, his other hand comes up to fill your dripping hole. You arch your back from the pressure, slightly lifting your hips away from him.

He retracts his fingers to grip your hips, his mouth never leaving you as he rises up to kneel on the mattress, your hips were being lifted up up up. You back bending upwards as you twitch. He hikes your calf over his shoulder, only parting from you for a second to plant a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh.

"It's not enough." He dives back in.

If you couldn't tell, he loves giving more than receiving.

He'll keep on thrusting into you even after he reached his orgasm. The only thing he was focusing on was your own pleasure.

Something about seeing you fall apart just because of him gives him enough stamina to last two nights.

The only thing stopping him from doing that exactly is you beneath him and just begging him to take a break.

He's a bit mean but he's super soft in bed. He just goes too far sometimes when he's entrances by your glistening eyes and high-pitched squeals.

That being said, he can be a bit submissive, only for a while though.

Like, you'd be on top of him, riding his cock while you leaned forward, holding both of his wrists with your hands. He was whining, breaths quickening as his cock twitches with every smack that your hips would make with every land on his pelvis.

You let out a groan, feeling every vein bump against your velvety walls. You open your tear-stained eyes, looking down at the sight below you; Junhan was falling apart, his brows curling in pleasure as he squeezes his eyes even harder.

You bring your one hand from the restraint on his wrists, bringing it down as you lightly slap on his cheek. Making him open his eyes and looking at you through blurry vision.

"mmm-- stay with me now baby, don't tap out y- yet." You reach up to his scalp, tugging on his (dead) hair as you chase your high.

Your teasing tone snaps him out of it, he tugs himself out of your restraint. Grabbing your hips while you were mid-thrust and on his tip, and slams you down, a yelp forces it's way out of your lungs as you feel his hand smack you ass. You moan in pleasure as it mixes with the pain.

He pistons his hips up, thrusting into you with a pace much faster than the ridiculously slow one that you were going at.

You moan loudly, your body slumping down on his chest while you grip on his arm that was now resting on your thigh.

He pulls you up by your hair, the stinging feeling on your scalp makes you groan.

"Don't tap out on me yet baby."

He'll get hard when he sees you with little reminders that you're his.

He found you sitting on his amp, slumped down as you strum his guitar, playing his solos. Or when you're sleeping on his bed, wearing nothing but his t-shirt and his boxers. It takes everything in him not to cum on the spot.

He doesn't, but you can tell when he wants to. Given his quiet nature, he doesn't do well verbally telling you what he wants.

You could always tell though. You know he's horny when he stares at you intensely.

You almost thought he was mad at you when you see him glare at you while you sucked on a lollipop. That was until you looked down to see his noticeable bulge.

Needless to say, the lollipop wasn't the only thing you sucked on that day,

He loves to mix in little insults with his praises. He'd tell you how pretty you are, how you're so pretty that you should only focus on pleasing him.

He was against it at first, immediately regretting when he slips out a "you needy slut" while you were begging for him to cum inside you.

But he doesn't miss the way you pussy clenches on him even harder.

He's not a big fan of quickies, he'll do it if you need some brief stress-relief, but he prefers undressing you slowly while he trails kisses down your stomach.

Anw, he fucking loves you.

But in all your time, you had never seen Hyungjun completely shut himself in his room all day. You saw him briefly in the kitchen at breakfast, but only when he was on his way to take his food back to his room. He ate alone for all 3 meals yesterday, and this morning seemed to be following the same trend. You were shocked, and even starting to wonder if you had done something. What had him needing to spend so much time in his room? Did he not want to hang out with you? 

Hyungjun had always been extremely introverted; you knew that. It was one of the things you liked about him, enjoying his patience and calmness compared to past horrific dating experiences. You felt that when you two were together, you didn’t have to worry too much about the future, but just stay in the moment together. He helped get your mind off of things.

But the space and silence that you usually enjoyed was starting to make you overthink. It was too much space and too much silence, and you were almost certain that if you went another day without seeing, talking to, hugging, and kissing your boyfriend you would go insane. Unlike yesterday when you hadn’t tried to get his attention, you had been trying to get his attention to make plans for the weekend all day. Given how all of your efforts had been unsuccessful so far, you were starting to think that he just didn’t want to talk to you at all for some reason. 

Every time you tried to strike a conversation with him, it would end as fast as it started. That was if you could even find Hyungjun in the first place. Once he disappeared from your sight, you had no idea where he went. He left the dorms several times without telling you, and you had gotten disappointed every time you thought he would be in his room, only to find it utterly empty. 

Whatever was on his mind, he seemed extremely busy with avoiding your very existence, and to be honest, it hurt. 

You decided that you had finally had enough. You were going to get his attention no matter what, even if you had to drag him away from a task. And weekend plans aside, you just frankly missed Hyungjun at this point. After dinner, you followed him on his way back to his room. As he flopped on his bed, you stood in the doorway, a small frown etched on your face. You weren’t even sure how to bring it up. You had never really had to talk about anything like this with Hyungjun before. What if it really was something you did? 

You knew how your exes would react; probably by calling you entitled and needy, or that you were making it all up entirely. But Hyungjun wasn’t like your exes— he was better than all of them combined, and was far more considerate than they could ever dream to be. You had no reason to be scared— as long as you hadn’t done something you weren’t aware of, Hyungjun wouldn’t make up excuses to ignore you. He would always tell you the truth, right?

“Did I do something?” You asked quietly. You didn’t sound mad at all, just confused, hoping that Hyungjun would catch onto what you were talking about in case you really did do something.

He looked up at you, blinking those curious eyes a few times before his eyebrows furrowed, “Did you?” You couldn’t see his facial expression too well thanks to his long bangs concealing most of his face. You sucked in a breath at the non-answer and hoped that he wasn’t glaring at you.

“I’m just confused because you’ve seemed kind of… distant lately. Today and yesterday too…” You trailed off, walking a bit further into the room to try to see his reaction better, hoping you’d be able to gauge whether this topic was worth pursuing further or if it would just end with both of you upset at each other.

“Oh… Did I?”

You nodded, “I know we aren’t the most affectionate couple, but… you haven’t hugged or kissed me for days... And every time I tried to get your attention today, you kept switching the subject. I barely saw you after this morning because you shut yourself in your room or were mysteriously out of the house. Is- Is everything okay?” You asked carefully, trying your best to not make it come off as if you were blaming him. 

“Did I really do… all that?” He sounded genuinely shocked, “Shit I’m so sorry, Y/n. I didn’t even think about how much I’d talked to you today or yesterday, my brain was so overloaded...” You felt a weight lift off your shoulders at his response. So it wasn’t either of your fault.

“Jun!” You scolded and smacked his arm lightly, “You really got me overthinking everything I did today. I thought I upset you somehow— you’ve never ignored me that much in a day.” You confessed, a lot more at ease now that he had cleared your worries.

“I’m sorry! I think I was just preoccupied with comeback preparations… The new songs are fun, but also hard. I keep thinking about my riff and- I don’t know, I just want the performance to be perfect, you know? But… Can I make it up to you?” He asked sweetly and you raised an eyebrow, wondering what he had in mind. 

When he reached over to tug you down onto the bed, you gasped. Hyungjun was rarely bold with physical affection. Most of his hugs and kisses were delivered at predictable times, and only lasted for a few seconds due to his own shy demeanour. You adored how flustered he got around you— found it adorable— but this Hyungjun was completely different; one you had never seen before. Not only had he pulled you onto his lap, but his lips were on your neck before you even had time to say anything.

You had only made out with him once since you had started dating, and neck kisses were far bolder of a move than you expected from him. They were sweet pecks placed to whatever skin he could reach, and once he had you situated so that you were facing him, he dove in to taste your lips as well. You closed your eyes and eagerly kissed him back. If this was the Hyungjun that you got from expressing your disappointment that he had been ignoring you, you would gladly take it every day.

He held your waist, one hand squeezing your hip as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue tentatively past your lips. Though the action was bold, you could tell how nervous he was trying something new like that. It felt good, though. Really good. Your tongues intertwined softly, and you could taste all of Hyungjun. You had always been addicted to the taste of his lips since you shared your first kiss, but this was completely different, and one hundred times more addicting. 

You were breathless by the time you pulled away, unsure of how long you had been kissing him, but absolutely certain that you wanted more. Your boyfriend seemed to share the same sentiment, as his lips lingered on the side of your lips, pressing gentle kisses there while he caught his breath as well.

“I didn’t know you had that in you…” You commented, still breathing a bit heavier. As soon as your boyfriend heard your words, he buried his head in your neck and you giggled. There was your shy Hyungjun back.

“I didn’t either… Just felt so bad… Didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you…” He mumbled cutely, and you cooed. Your fingers were still tangled in his hair, but you let one drop from his locks and pushed his chin up so he was looking at you.

“Did I ever tell you… that you’re a really good kisser?” You whispered with a giggle. Hyungjun grinned, though his cheeks were bright red; whether from your compliment or leftover from the heated kiss— you weren’t sure.

“You too.” He said back, leaning forward to taste your lips again. You could tell there was barely any nervousness this time, as he didn’t waste time in pulling you closer to him and pouring all his passion into the kiss. 

You had yet to say those 3 precious words to him, but you were absolutely positive that after tonight there were no other words to encapsulate your feelings towards Hyungjun. You were in love with him, and your heart was practically shouting that he was the only one for you… for the rest of your life.

↳ xdinary heroes taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @haecien,, @weird-bookworm,, @blossominghunnie,,

junhan was your classmate, but you barely knew anything about him. you knew he liked to play the guitar, seeming his fingers were always covered in calluses and bandaids. you also knew he was quiet, way too quiet. every time you were around him, you were always hyper aware of yourself, even your breathing.

when you got paired for your project, you were beyond nervous. this class was frustrating enough to begin with, and now you’ll have to work on an assignment worth more than half your grade with someone you barely knew? you felt like you were being set up.

but you couldn’t complain with the way that junhan was treating you already. he’s not a man of many words, but he definitely showed it through his actions. he figured it was too busy to study in the library, so he very shyly invited you to his place to work on it.

while you were nervous, you also couldn’t help but be a little excited. he’s very cute and sweet, and hopefully this would give you an opportunity to talk to him more and find out what he’s like beyond the exterior he’s always showing at school.

you get to his place around 7:00, you walked alone much to his disapproval. you knock a few times before putting your hand back to grip your backpack strap, your sweaty palms rubbing against the fabric. after a few seconds, junhan opens the door. there’s a small smile on his face that makes your heart race, and he opens the door a little wider and moves out the way. “come in” he says as he gestures for you to walk inside.

you’re surprised by the state of his dorm, in your mind every college boy’s room is dirty and littered with cans of alcohol and other.. illegal substances. maybe a few clothes on a floor that haven’t seen a washing room in a few weeks. but junhan’s place wasn’t like that at all. it wasn’t spotless, but it was clear he did his best to keep it as clean as possible despite the tight schedule he seems to have. you just didn’t know that he cleaned it for you.

he closes the door and walks up to you but still stands a few feet away before speaking up, “so.. do you wanna start? my coffee table is a little messy so we can study in my room. if you’re okay with that.” he says a little too worriedly. you giggle softly at how frantically he’s speaking but you nod, “that’s fine with me.”

he leads you into his room, and you’re immediately greeted with the sight of his guitars on the wall. he has one acoustic and 2 electric all lined up, a few amps and other accessories are on the floor below them. one that you pay attention to is the one at the end, it has a pretty pattern that catches your eye. he closes the door behind you two before sitting on his bed, pointing to the chair in front of him at his desk, “you can sit at my desk.”

you snap out of your trance and quickly thank him before sitting down at the desk, moving a few papers and notebooks out the way so you can put your laptop down. you open it to your shared document, going back to the study material you two were looking over during class.

“so, he wants us to create a slideshow, right?” you ask him. you already knew the answer and had the syllabus memorized at this point, but you needed to try to talk to him as best you could.

he nods as he opens his own laptop and opens the document their professor sent out earlier that day, “a 20 page slideshow and an 500 word essay due by friday, no exceptions.” he says monotonely, seemingly anything but excited for this project.

you nod and look over at the study material again before speaking, “this website he sent us over has everything we need, we just have to read and take notes and then we can go from there.” you reassure, hoping it’ll make him feel a little easier about this.

he nods, looking back at his computer again, “i guess we can start now.”

about 30 minutes pass and not a single word has been uttered between you two besides him asking if you need water and to use the bathroom, and it’s driving you insane. the point of this was to study, yes, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t talk to each other. he intrigued you so much and you couldn’t tell if it was how quiet he was, the way he probably has more guitars than friends, or how stupidly attractive he was.

either way, you needed to get to know him.

you pull away from your computer, stretching your arms a bit and taking a look back around the room, the guitar from earlier catches your eye again. it had an almost pearlescent brown look to it with a nice dark wood grain for the neck. from what you’ve gathered about him he’s had it for a long time, but you can barely tell due to the condition it’s in.

you look over at his bed and see him still typing away, you assume he’s still taking notes. you can’t help but notice how good he looks, he’s not even dressed up nicely either. his black framed glasses are almost slipping off the tip of his nose and he has to readjust them every few seconds, and every time he does you get a good look at his hands. apart from the dry skin on his fingers, he has pretty, dainty tattoos on the outside of his fingers that made you dizzy.

as much as you’d like to, you knew you couldn’t stare forever, so you decide to try your best to talk to him. “you play?” you say, pointing to the guitars on his wall.

he looks up at you and nods, looking a little surprised you were paying attention that well. “oh, guitar? i’ve been playing for a while now.” he says, and you can tell he’s a little more enthusiastic than usual.

you smile and your eyes widen, “really? i’ve always wanted to play but i couldn’t ever get good at it. you must be really talented.”

his face heats up a bit and he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment, shaking his head, “thank you..” he says awkwardly

you nod and smile again, awed by how shy he is. you glanced back at the wall, absentmindedly staring at the guitar again. you see him out the corner of your eye, tapping his fingers along his notepad like he’s contemplating something.

“it’s not hard once you get back the first few weeks.” he says slowly, like he’s testing the waters, “once you get the hang of it, it’s really fun.”

you hum softly, tilting your head back to him, “still, it’s impossible to me.” you say as you laugh softly.

he hesitates, his eyes flickering between you and his laptop for a moment before speaking again, “you know i could teach you if you’d like. only if you want me to, of course.” he offers.

your heart skips a beat, you never would’ve imagined in a million years someone as shy as him would offer to teach you. but who are you to pass something up like that?

“i’d love that.”

before you can say anything else, he clears his throat, “uh you can-“ he gestures to the empty space next to him on the bed, “sit here, it’s easier if you’re.. closer.”

you bite back a smile and set your laptop and notebook on his desk before sitting next to him. he stands up and grabs the guitar from the wall, quickly plugging it into the amp. he sits back down with it in his lamp and makes sure it’s in tune and at a decent volume before looking over at you.

“do you know how to hold it?” he says as he hands it to you, trying to ignore his heart racing from how pretty you look right now, even though you’re just sitting there.

you nod, taking it from his hands and placing it on your lap. your left hand immediately goes to the fretboard and you use your other hand to adjust the body of the guitar against your thigh, “am i holding it right?”

he nods and smiles a bit, surprised at your posture. “it’s perfect.

his gaze lingers for a little longer before looking back down at your hands, “i’ll show you how to play a c chord, it’s very easy.” he says quietly, like he’s nervous all over again. he shifts closer, his hand hovering over yours as it touches the fretboard. he gently moves your fingers into position, making sure your placement is right and comfortable. you’re trying your best to ignore how warm his hands are, but it’s hard when they’re so close to yours.

he pauses for a second, his gaze flicking up to your face and setting on a few stray strands of hair covering your cheek. without thinking, he reaches up and moves them out the way, gently tucking them behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your skin for a second too long.

“sorry..” he murmurs, his voice lower like he’s embarrassed. “just need to see your hand,”

you go still for a second before realizing what he’s telling you to do, and you put your hand back on the fretboard like before.

“all you do is place these 3 fingers.. here, here, and here. hold them down, but not too hard or else they’ll hurt.” he says, moving his hand back into his lap when he sees you got the position right.

“now.. strum.”

you strum the guitar once, and you’re immediately taken aback by the way it sounds. you actually, for once in your life, played a guitar chord correctly; and that was all thanks to him. you smile again and strum a few more times, looking up at him.

“i did it!” you say excitedly.

he smiles back proudly, his eyes meeting yours for a second before looking back at your hands, “you did it perfectly. that’s so good!” he says softly, almost like it means more to him than it does to you.

only when you look up is when you realize how close he really is, his face just a few inches from yours. his thighs press against yours, his arm brushing your side every time he shifts. you can smell him, clean laundry and a trace of cologne that he sprayed on just for you.

there’s another far, much worse problem that he refuses to acknowledge, partially due to the fact that he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and the other fact is that he can’t do anything to fix it. he was getting hard.

he swallows, trying to keep his breathing normal, but it’s useless when your eyes keep flicking down to his lips. you don’t even notice you’re doing it until you see the way his gaze drops to your mouth in return.

“you’re.. a really fast learner. that was good”, he say quietly, his voice lower now.

you smile a bit, “you taught me.”

he doesn’t laugh, just leans in slightly, enough to where you can feel the tension growing between you two. “no,” he says, pausing slightly, “i mean.. you’re making it really heard to focus.”

your stomach flips, “am i?”

he lets out a small breath, nodding. “yeah. it’s.. hard to pay attention when you’re looking at me like that.” his eyes flick down to your lips again before darting away like he’s afraid he’s being too obvious.

your heart pounds, warmth creeping up your neck. “is that.. bad?”

he shakes his head quickly, a shy smile tugging at his mouth. “no. not bad.”

there’s a pause where neither of you moves, the air between you heavy. then, like he’s finally made up his mind, he leans in, slow enough for you to see it coming, slow enough to give you time to stop him if you wanted to. but you didn’t.

he didn’t know if it was the fact that you were so close to him, or if it was the way you smelled, or the way you smiled at him when he praised you, but one thing for sure was he couldn’t hold back anymore.

he leans in carefully, like he’s testing the waters and making sure you want this as much as he does. his lips press softly against yours, and just when you realize you need more, he pulls away before you know it’s even over.

you barely give him time to react when you’re leaning back in and kissing him again, firmer this time.

he lets out a soft noise from his throat, one hand finding your waist while the other cradles the side of your neck. the guitar shifts awkwardly in your lap, and you keep having to adjust it so it’s not digging into him, but neither of you care anymore.

before you can do anything, he leans in and presses a warm kiss to your cheek. slow, lingering, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel. then his eyes flick down to the guitar still on your lap. his hands move carefully, almost hesitant, as he takes it from you and sets it against his dresser.

the space between you feels different, heavier now. there’s no holding back anymore. his fingers find your waist again, gently pushing you back onto his bed. your head hits the pillows softly and he moves so he’s on top of you, his knee slotting right between your thighs and his hand bracing the mattress on the side of your head.

his glasses slide slightly down his nose, and you can see through the dim light in his room the faintest pink tint on his cheeks, but he doesn’t stop.

you’re still catching your breath when his voice drops to a whisper. “i’ve wanted you for so long.”

your breath catches, and before he can lean down, you murmur, “then why didn’t you tell me?”

he glances at your lips, his voice low. “didn’t think you’d want me too.”

you smile faintly, shaking your head. “ well then you have no idea how wrong you are.”

that’s all it takes. his mouth finds yours again, deeper this time, more certain than before when he knows you want him as badly as he does. his body presses closer, his palm firm against the bed, his other hand sliding to your hip like he’s finally letting himself touch you the way he’s wanted to. your hands curl into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss grows warmer, slower, like neither of you are in any rush to pull away.

“don’t hold back,” he whispers against your skin, his breath warm. his hand under your shirt slides higher, his palm resting just beneath your ribs as his lips linger on your neck.

your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt tighter, pulling him a little closer without even realizing it. his hand slides further under your shirt so his fingertips are brushing up against the bottom of your bra, your back arching at his warm touch.

he doesn’t pull away this time, just kissing you deeply and slowly while his hands explore your torso cause he can’t help himself anymore. his knee slides down, and when he gets closer you can feel his unmistakable hard on through his sweats.

your breath catches, and the realization makes heat rush straight through you. you shift slightly without thinking, and his breath stutters against your mouth.

“careful,” he murmurs, voice lower now, almost strained.

you look up at him through your lashes, unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “does that.. distract you?”

his eyes lock on yours, and for a second he looks like he’s about to answer honestly, but instead he leans down, his lips brushing your ear. “you have no idea.”

he notices, and his lips curve into a faint smile against your neck. “you feel even better than i imagined,” he whispers, his voice a little rougher now.

the pressure of his knee shifts again, pressing up in a way that makes your thighs clench around him. you let out a shaky breath, biting down on your lip so hard you can taste the faint hint of metal, still trying to keep quiet.

but he notices that too. he leans up just enough to meet your eyes, his own darker now, and says softly, “i wanna hear you, please?”

you nod and smile softly at him, watching as he leans down to kiss the underside of your jaw as both his hands start to pull your shirt up slightly. your arms lift instinctively, and he pulls away for a second to take your shirt off completely.

he almost moans at the sight, he would’ve never imagined that he’d have you under him like this, completely under his control. but it feels better than he would’ve ever thought it to be.

“so so pretty..” he whispers, leaning down to kiss a line from your neck down to your belly button. his hand caresses your bra, squeezing gently, making you moan a little louder than you expected to. he smirks to himself and continues kissing you, reaching behind your back to free you from the restraints of the fabric.

he kisses down your chest slowly, tugging your bra aside until you’re fully bare beneath him. the look on his face makes your skin burn, it feels like he’s trying memorizing every inch of you, like he can’t believe he’s allowed to see you like this (he can’t). his mouth wraps around your nipple, gentle at first while his other hand squeezes your entire boob, the wetness of his tongue makes you grip the sheet harder.

your hand tangles into his fluffy hair, grabbing it gently but hard enough to make him groan. he breathes against your skin, grinding further into you. you can’t believe you have him like this, the boy that was too shy to look in your direction during class was moaning your name in your ear?!

his other hand slides down, brushing along your side until it reaches the waistband of your jeans. he hesitates for a second, lifting his head to glance up at you. “can i?” he asks, voice breathy.

you nod, letting out a breath as your hand is still gripping onto his hair, “please.”

that’s all it takes for him to start unbuttoning your jeans, pulling them down to leave you in your lacy set that you may or may not have worn on purpose.

his eyes flicker from your eyes to the fabric as he finishes pulling your jeans off, his large hands moving your tights apart.

you notice he looks nervous all over again, so you take his hand and lead it down your body and placing it over your heat, silently letting him know that you want this as bad as he does.

“fuck,” he whispers, “you’re so warm..” he says, his fingers pressing down gently.

you whine softly, rolling your hips against his hand without meaning to. you’ve never been this desperate, it’s like your body is begging for him. his eyes darken watching you move, his breathing becoming more heavier now.

he moves your panties to the side, his fingertips trailing up and down your slit before easing two inside. you gasp at the initial stretch, his eyes locking back on to yours to make sure that he’s not hurting you. you barely nod your head before he slips his fingers back out and move them back into you.

“junhan-“ you gasp, your thighs clenching around his hand so tightly it felt like it could break. he smirks, adding a thumb to your clit and circling softly. the combination of both is something you’ve never felt before, you could barely get off to your fingers, but feeling his was something completely incomparable.

just when you feel like you’re about to come undone, he pulls his fingers out and brings them to his lips, licking your slick clean off his fingers. you let out a whine at the loss of stretch, but you feel something in you change when you see him sucking on his fingers so desperately.

“i can’t wait anymore.” he admits, his voice rough.

your stomach flips and nerves kick in that you didn’t have before, but you couldn’t wait any longer. “i’ve been waiting for you to say that..”

his hands fumble at the hem of his shirt before tugging it over his head, his glasses slipping off and falling onto the bed in the process. you can’t help but stare at his torso, he’s so lean and pretty, and you start to hate his clothes for the way they kept this hidden from you for so long.

he stands off the bed to take his sweats off, not forgetting to stumble when he’s pulling them off his feet. you giggle softly, but stop when you see his dick print through his boxers. he’s huge.

he notices the way you look at him, his face turning red. “d-don’t look at me like that.” he mutters as he finishes taking his boxers off, your eyes immediately going to his cock before you can stop yourself. it was just as pretty as you imagined it to be.

he swallows hard, climbing back into the bed and pressing himself against you. he groans, burying his face into your neck as his hands grip onto your hips.

“wait- fuck i need..” he trails off, pulling back to reach over you and to his beside table. he opens it, grabbing a small unopened box of condoms. he fumbles with the box for a bit before opening it, pulling a small foil out before throwing it back into his drawer and closing it.

he rips the plastic before slipping it onto himself, letting out a small moan from the way he’s gripping himself. “sorry.. i didn’t wanna..” he trails off again, embarrassed.

you call out his name, smiling softly, “it’s okay, i’m glad you did.” you reassure.

you lift your hips and he helps you finish taking off your panties, almost moaning at the sight of how wet your pussy is. his eyes soften softly, but not for too long when he looks back down and realizes what’s about to happen.

he rubs his tip against your clit, moaning softly at the feeling, he still can’t believe he has you like this. “f-fuck you’re so wet, is this normal?”

you let out a breathy laugh, your hips grinding softly against him, “i jus… like you a lot.” you murmur, your pulse picking up at the sound of his voice.

“you ready?” he asks, searching for the answer in your face before you even say anything.

you nod, tugging him closer, your lips brushing against his cheek and leaving a small kiss. “i want you so badly, please?”

you begging is all it takes, he lines himself up with you before pushing himself past your entrance and letting himself sink into you. your whine catches in your throat and your nails dig into his shoulders. he groans, his eyes squeezing shut as his head falls onto your shoulder as a way to ground himself from being overwhelmed.

“you’re so tight.. feels so good.” he cuts himself off with another moan, his fingers still gripping onto your hips.

he waits a few seconds for you to adjust to size, seeing your small nod before starting to move. the way he moves into your makes your jaw drop, a silent moan falling from your lips as you hold onto his shoulders.

immediately, his hips start moving against yours, each thrust earning a low groan from him and making your head spin. the sound of skin on skin fills the room, hot and desperate. when you look up, junhan is completely lost in the moment, lips parted and flushed, eyes half-lidded, as he buries himself deep into you again and again.

he groans low and desperate, thrusting faster than before, voice breaking. “fuck.. you’re so perfect, god, so tight.. feels so good.” he pants, lips brushing your ear, teeth grazing your shoulder.

you gasp, nails raking down his back. you take one hand off him to grip the bedsheets when you feet something hard, it was his glasses that fell off. an idea hits you and grab them, slipping them onto your face. they’re too big, completely crooked on your face and sitting way too low on your nose bridge, but the way he looks at you when he realizes you’re wearing them makes you clench harder around him.

“oh my god” he groans, thrusts faltering for a second, “you’re so perfect.”

he starts thrusting faster than before and you let out a loud moan, your hand going back to dig your nails into his back like before, “i’m so close”

he groans into your neck, his teeth grazing against your collarbone. “me too.. fuck, i can’t hold it” he pants, hips snapping harder against you in a desperate motion.

hearing him just as needy as you pushes you over the edge, your lip trembles and your lashes flutter when your orgasm washes over you, ripping a yell of his name from your throat.

then it hits him, and he swears he’s never seen or heard anything prettier. he whimpers into your ear, hips stuttering as he cums into the condom, silently wishing it wasn’t there in the first place, and hoping it isn’t there next time. his body trembles against yours and you’re chest to chest, his hands still gripping onto your hips like a vice.

he shudders again, tiny moans escaping as he rocks into you slowly, coming down from the intensity while still buried inside you. he sighs softly, forehead brushing against your soft skin and lips pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw and collarbone, finally allowing himself to relax in your touch.

he lays against you for a bit, trying to catch his breath and revel in the ecstasy of it all. his fingers trace your arm, absentmindedly drawing patterns when he realizes he’s still inside you.

“oh shit.” he says, sitting up and slowly pulling out of you with a quiet whimper. he ties the condom off and throws it away in his trashcan, then heads into his bathroom without a word.

he comes back with a wet towel, slowly climbing back onto the bed with you and gesturing for you to open your legs again. he gently brushes the towel against you, earning a wince from the way the towel brushes against your swollen clit.

“i know, i’m sorry i’m almost done,” he whispers, trying to finish as fast as possible so you’re not uncomfortable anymore. he finishes and throws the towel in his laundry basket before laying back next to you and throwing a blanket over the two of you.

his arms wrap around you protectively and his chest keeps you warm and safe. your hair is slightly damp and you’re both a little sweaty, his glasses are completely off your face somehow and on the other side of the bed, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his heart beating against yours.

you let out a shaky laugh when you look around his room and see your laptop and notebook still on his desk, completely turned off due to inactivity. “we’re definitely getting an F.” you murmur, voice muffled against his shoulder.

he smiles and laughs back, holding you a little tighter than before. his lips buried into your hair as he speaks,

“it was worth it.”