#kyung

Drew some Pat cause I missed him.

here you go bestie hope you enjoy!!

Title: Off the Page Pairing: Baek Kyung x Female!Reader (Y/N) Universe: Extraordinary You Length: ~2.5k words Rating: Explicit / 18+ Themes: possessive behavior, rough sex, jealousy, manipulation, slight dubcon (shadow world blurring), unresolved angst, soft ending

The bell rings.

A page flips somewhere beyond your control.

Baek Kyung had ignored you all day on stage. That wasn’t unusual. That was his role. Cruel fiancé. Sharp-tongued, rich boy. The kind of person who never apologized, never showed softness, never strayed from his assigned lines. You hated it. Hated how your mouth moved without your will, how your eyes filled with tears even though you weren’t sad. How you’d laugh at something that made you sick.

But what you hated most—more than the writers, more than the manhwa—was how much your body still reacted to him, even off the stage. Even when the lines stopped and you were finally you, heart beating, hands trembling, trapped in the margins of a story that wasn’t yours.

Tonight was one of those nights.

When the shadows descended and the script loosened its grip, he found you.

Again.

“Where were you?” His voice was low, rough. A whisper at your back.

You didn’t need to turn. You felt him already—Baek Kyung’s presence was a burn, a stormcloud pressing heat against your spine.

“I was in the garden,” you said softly. “You already knew that.”

“You were with Haru.”

You turned then, slowly. His eyes were dark. Not angry—not exactly. But something worse. He watched you. Like you were a page he hadn’t read yet. One he didn’t trust.

“So?”

“So?” he repeated, stepping in. “You think I can’t tell when he’s looking at you like that?”

You swallowed, heart racing. “It’s none of your business.”

“None of my—”

He cut off his own words with movement, swift and overwhelming. One second of silence, then your back hit the bookshelf behind you, dusty volumes shaking slightly in their wooden cells. His arms caged you in, jaw clenched.

The stage would never allow this. But there was no stage now. Just shadow.

“Everything about you is my business,” he bit out. “You’re my fiancée.”

“In the script,” you snapped. “You don’t care about me. You never have.”

His eyes didn’t flicker. But something dangerous passed over his face—like a wire pulling tight, nearly breaking.

“Say that again,” he said.

You didn’t.

Instead, you glared at him, daring him to prove you wrong.

He did.

His mouth crashed down onto yours like a broken dam, all teeth and frustration and heat. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back as he kissed you hard enough to steal every breath. Your fingers fisted in his shirt before you even realized it.

“You make me insane,” he growled, lips moving to your throat. “You smile at Haru like you’re free. You think this world doesn’t own you?”

His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips like he could brand himself there. You gasped when he pushed your thighs apart and stepped between them.

“I hate how much I think about you when I’m not supposed to.”

“Then stop—”

He yanked your skirt up roughly, the fabric bunching around your hips.

“Shut up.”

You moaned when his fingers slipped under your panties, rubbing over your slit without hesitation. He was already hard against you, clothed but unmistakable, hips grinding into your thigh with possessive rhythm.

“I’ll make you forget all about Haru,” he muttered against your skin. “About the goddamn script. About everything but me.”

Two fingers pushed inside you—no warning, no gentleness. Just Baek Kyung, unfiltered and unrepentant.

Your body clenched around him instantly.

“Already so wet,” he said, a smirk twisting his lips. “You pretend to hate me, but your cunt knows better.”

You gasped his name—once, then again when he curled his fingers just right. Your legs shook.

He dropped to his knees.

Baek Kyung never got on his knees for anyone. Except now.

He hooked your leg over his shoulder and dragged your panties down with his teeth. No patience. No ceremony. Just obsession. Then he buried his face between your thighs.

His tongue was wicked, greedy—licking into you like he was trying to taste something he couldn’t name. His nose pressed against your clit as he fucked you with his mouth, growling when your hands flew to his hair and you rolled your hips into him.

“You’re mine,” he muttered, voice muffled. “Say it.”

“N-no—”

He sucked your clit and you almost screamed.

“Say it.”

You broke. “Yours—fuck, Baek Kyung—yours, yours—”

He stood fast, undoing his belt with one hand, the other still between your legs. The sound of his zipper felt louder than the whole world.

“Then take it.”

He didn’t guide you. He shoved in with one thrust, hard and deep, and your legs wrapped around him instinctively as your back hit the bookshelf again. Books tumbled down around you. You didn’t care.

He fucked you like he was punishing you. Or himself.

Each thrust was brutal, relentless—his name falling from your lips like prayer and plea.

Baek Kyung groaned, low and ragged, against your shoulder. “You feel too good,” he panted. “You make me want to ruin everything.”

“Then ruin me,” you gasped.

He did.

He pulled you down onto his cock, fucking you rougher, faster, until the slick sounds of your cunt echoed through the room. Until your climax slammed into you so hard you bit his shoulder through his shirt.

He came right after, teeth at your neck, groaning into your pulse as he spilled deep inside you.

The silence that followed wasn’t quiet—it was thick. Alive. Like the story might shift again if either of you moved.

Baek Kyung pulled back slowly, tucking himself in, eyes still locked on yours.

“Don’t go to Haru again.”

You stared at him, heart still thundering. “You don’t own me.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips across yours—this time soft. Almost sweet.

"Ay, Alf! Nice swimsuit!" 👍