Hii again…
I'm trying to find any gunwook smut but there's no long fics. Can you write one pls💙🥺
Idol.gunwook and idol.fem.reader
HOLD ON TIGHT - Gunwook [ZB1]
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Warnings:
Gunwook x Female reader, winter au, dominant gunwook soft reader, sweetheart gunwook, lover gunwook, reader is his girlfriend, reader is suffering in cold lol
Word Count: ~700 words
Author's Note: I tried my best with my exams going on.....i hope its good enough ðŸ˜ðŸ˜
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The cold bites at your cheeks as you trudge through the snow, your breath crystallizing in the frigid air. You've been out too long—foolishly long—and now your body is paying the price. Your fingers are numb inside your gloves, your legs heavy and unresponsive beneath layers of clothing that suddenly feel inadequate.
"Come here," Gunwook says softly, his voice cutting through the wind. He's already wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close against his chest. His body radiates heat, and you lean into him instinctively, seeking warmth like a plant seeks sunlight.
Back inside his apartment, he strips away your outer layers with careful hands, his dark eyes tracking your shivering form with concern. The heating is turned up high, but it's not enough. You're still trembling, your core temperature dangerously low.
"Bed," he murmurs, guiding you toward his bedroom. "We need to warm you up."
He wraps you both under the heavy comforter, his body pressed against yours. His skin is warm—almost hot—and you burrow into him, seeking every point of contact. His arms circle you, one hand splayed across your back, the other tangled in your hair. You can feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and strong.
"Better?" he whispers into your hair.
You nod, but you're still shaking. Gunwook shifts, his leg sliding between yours, his thigh pressing against your core. The friction sends a spark of warmth through you that has nothing to do with the cold outside.
"Still cold," you murmur, and you feel him smile against your temple.
"Then let me help," he says, his voice dropping lower, rougher.
His hands begin to move—slowly, deliberately—mapping the landscape of your body. He peels away the last of your clothing, and instead of the shock of cold air, there's only his warmth. His lips find your neck, your collarbone, the soft curve where your shoulder meets your throat. He's gentle but insistent, his touch igniting something deep within you.
"Gunwook," you breathe, and he responds by pulling you closer, his body fitting against yours like they were made for this.
He moves over you, his weight settling between your thighs. His eyes search yours for permission, and when you nod, he enters you slowly, filling you completely. There's no rush—just the deliberate slide of his body into yours, the friction building heat from the inside out.
"You're still so cold," he murmurs, and he begins to move, each thrust generating warmth, each gasp you make echoing his own. His skin is slick with sweat now, his breathing ragged against your neck. Your hands dig into his shoulders, his back, pulling him deeper.
The cold is completely forgotten now. Your body is burning, alive, every nerve ending singing with sensation. Gunwook's pace quickens, his movements becoming less controlled, more urgent. He whispers your name against your skin like a prayer, like a promise.
"Warm now?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.
"Yes," you gasp, and it's true. You're burning from the inside out, consumed by him, by this, by the intensity of his touch and the way he looks at you like you're the only thing that matters.
He pushes deeper, and you meet him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving in perfect synchronization. The tension builds, coils tighter, until finally it snaps. You come undone beneath him, your body convulsing with pleasure, and he follows moments later, burying himself deep inside you as he finds his own release.
Afterward, you lie tangled together, his body still draped over yours, his breathing gradually slowing. Outside, the snow continues to fall, the wind howling against the windows. But here, wrapped in his arms, in the warmth of his body and the comfort of his presence, you're safe.
"Warm?" he asks again, this time with a soft smile.
You nod against his chest, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his skin. "Very warm."
He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you drift off to sleep in his arms, completely and utterly content.
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THE END~~
Requests are open!! I’m like a ChatGPT. It feels difficult to work without a prompt. Feel free to gimme your suggestions.
Peace out!!
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