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tenelkadjowrites · 3 months

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Nasty - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

🪟 Summary: Finding comfort in the windows of the apartment building across from yours, your attention is drawn to one housing an attractive new neighbor, Seonghwa, who quickly notices your interest.

🪟 Word count: 7.2k

🪟 Genre & Warnings: one shot smut. neighbors to lovers (kinda). reader is drunk at one point (not in smut scene.) dirty talk. unprotected sex, creampie. oral sex (reader receiving). fingering. choking and hair pulling (hwa receiving). shower sex.

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

You look up from your laptop, yawning and stretching out your legs. It’s almost ten at night and you’ve lost track of time working on your latest project. The beginning of a headache is brewing, signaling that it is now a good place to stop for the night and make something to eat.

Even so, you linger, propping your chin against the palm of your hand to idly stare out the window of your apartment which looks directly at another building. You’ve come to find comfort in most of the them – the one that always has various plants vying for the sunlight, another that switches between blue and pink hues of colour late at night, even the window that is usually shuttered – all of these have become friends in a way. You may not know a single person in the building across from yours in any real sort of capacity but you are familiar with the residents all the same.

This familiarity is how you notice a change immediately. One window, usually empty, is now showing light spilling across cardboard boxes and a couch positioned haphazardly in the centre of the room. A new tenant must have moved in. You continue to watch, your mind wandering with all the things you need to do tomorrow when someone enters the space of the window.

You are so used to seeing snapshots of stranger’s lives in whatever the window shows that the rare occasion an actual person appears, you’re promptly jolted out of your daydreaming.

A slender man is opening one of the boxes, leaning forward to rummage through it. Multiple necklaces dangle off his neck, which he brushes out of his way impatiently while searching. His hair is swept up in a small ponytail. The man finds whatever he is looking for, straightening up. He’s tall, wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt. Then, he’s gone, out of frame.

You watch curiously for a couple of seconds before losing interest, turning back to your own life, to your own thoughts.

*

The second time you see the man is a week later when you are tidying up one evening. You happen to look up right when he is crossing the living room. He’s in a sleeveless tank top, well toned arms exposed. His features are blurry due to distance, like looking at something underwater, and then he is gone again.

Even though it was only a split second, you realize that your heartrate is accelerated. How silly, you chastise, he’s a hazy figure in another building. With a small shake of your head, you turn back to your chores.

*

Sighing, you turn off the TV, debating just going to bed. Of course, the moment you have some free time from work, you don’t know what to do with yourself. The long list of things to do seems overwhelming but doing anything fun is just as exhausting which results in spending five hours on the couch, watching bad reality shows.

Now, it is a little after midnight and you cannot help but feel as though the day was wasted. Propping yourself up off the couch, you look out your window, mulling over everything. You aren’t truly paying attention to the collection of windows and that is why you don’t notice him at first.

In fact, it isn’t until there is a flash of fabric that you sit up a little straighter. The new guy is in the window, yanking his shirt off and tossing it onto the couch. Even though he is far away, and most details are impossible to make out, the distance doesn’t hide how lithe he is nor how in shape. You swallow hard, unable to tear your eyes away for the few seconds he is in frame. I really need to get laid, you think, I’ve been too busy with work and now here I am, gawking at a guy in another apartment building so far away that it looks as if it’s a grainy JPEG.

Even so, you remain staring at the window, hoping he comes back…and he does, this time with a beer in hand. He’s still shirtless, taking a swig from the drink and turning on the TV. Your eyes rake up along his body, wishing you were just a little closer to make out more of the details. His hair remains in a ponytail, and his pants are tight – they actually look like leather which you can’t imagine wearing.

At that moment, the man turns to look out the window. Feeling confident in the fact he wouldn’t notice you at this distance, you squint, trying to get a better look at his features.

That’s when he lifts his hand up and mockingly salutes you.

With a gasp, you panic and duck back down on the couch out of his view. Immediately after doing so, you curse aloud, wondering why you would do something so foolish. You could have played it off as though you were looking elsewhere and pretended you didn’t even notice him. But to hide like this…well now, this guy knows you were staring at him like a Peeping Tom.

Mortification sits in as you lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. What now? Well, you’ll have to keep the blinds closed forever, obviously. The chance of ever making eye contact with him again would be so embarrassing that it is time to think of your window being deleted, like an item in The Sims.

Covering your face with your hands, you groan. Why did you check him out for such an extended period? How long did he know you were doing it to make fun of you like that? Ugh.

After about twenty minutes of verbally berating yourself, you carefully poke your head out to look at the window. There is no sign of him but he hadn’t closed the blinds either. Quickly, you scamper over and close yours, letting out a small sigh of relief.

It is definitely time for bed.

*

Two weeks later, you’re in the grocery store, staring at the various options of oat milk and feeling overwhelmed. This was how you spent most days now – in a state of overwhelm: with work, keeping friendships up, with whatever the concept of being an adult meant.

“I prefer the one on the top shelf, myself. With the red cap. I think it tastes a little sweeter.”

It takes your brain a few long seconds to realize someone is speaking to you. Surprised, you look to your side and then promptly make a strangled noise in the back of your throat.

It’s Hot Window Guy only this time he isn’t a blurry figure but in perfect clarity in front of you. You recognize him by the ponytail and his slender figure. Momentarily frozen, all you can do is stare. He is tall, wearing a baggy black t-shirt that has a faded logo on it. His jeans hang off his hips, ripped at the knees. His fingers are dotted with small tattoos. His brows are immaculate, like something you usually see in YouTube makeup videos, and his facial features look to be made of marble. The bridge of his nose is long, a distinctive part of his face, with full plump lips.

There is even a striking tattoo on his neck, two black vines curling around his skin, dotted with bright drops of colour on the red roses. Seeing someone so striking against the backdrop of a generic grocery store, under the harsh fluorescents while top forty radio plays, feels jarring.

“What?” You finally reply. Great, amazing, really killed it with that one.

Hot Window Guy points to the assortment of oat milks. “That one, with the red cap. It’s the best one here,” When you don’t reply, he explains, “You’ve been standing here for five minutes so I figured I’d help you out.”

“How do you know I’ve been here for five minutes?”

“I saw you when I first turned in this direction. I grabbed my items, which takes me roughly five minutes because I get the same stuff almost every time and when I circled back, you’re still standing here.” He frowns. “Actually, it could be longer than five minutes since you were standing here when I entered, now that I think about it.”

You yank open the door and snatch the oat milk with the red lid off the shelf, unable to look him in the face again. He’s just too attractive. Why is he talking to you? Does he not realize you were gawking at him through the windows a couple weeks ago?

“Great, well, thank you,” You say quickly, ready to bolt, “Thanks for the help.”

“You live in the building across from mine, right? I recognize you from through the window.”

Your face is warm. You’re pretending to rearrange things in your shopping basket even though all you have is oat milk and some coffee. “Yup, yup.”

There is a hint of amusement in his next sentence. “You’ve kept the blinds closed since I saluted you. You ever gonna open them again?”

You think about lying, pretending to have no idea what he is talking about. But you know he would see right through it. Instead, you force yourself to look at him. God, he’s hot, you think, trying to wrangle your brain under control.

“I was embarrassed that you saw me looking and I was worried I looked creepy.”

“You stare in everyone’s windows like that?”

“I wasn’t – I was just looking out my own window and you came into view, that’s it. It wasn’t…it’s not like a kink of mine,” Immediately embarrassed at saying the word kink, you keep blathering, “Like, it isn’t a habit. I just…we all have windows. I was looking out mine.”

“Right, directly into mine. When I was shirtless.”

You exhale slowly, feeling incredibly flustered. You manage to look at his face although it is like staring at the sun. He is fighting off a smirk, his basket of items pressed against his hip.

“What’s your name?” He prompts and after you give yours, he says, “I’m Seonghwa.”

You nod, taking a step back. It isn’t that you don’t want to be around him – it is simply that he is too attractive and you’re too desperate. He’ll notice and that will be even more embarrassing.

“Alright, nice meeting you. Bye!” You say quickly, shuffling away from the gorgeous man with the neck tattoo and all the overwhelming variations of oat milk.

*

But your curiosity gets the best of you and later that night, the blinds seem to beckon. It would be so easy to open them again because since Seonghwa teased you about how they are now always closed. Truth be told, you were starting to miss sunlight during the day and the comforting pull of the illuminated windows at night. Admittedly, it is unrealistic to think that you can never open the blinds ever again.

But it isn’t until almost midnight that you grow the courage to open them. Your eyes immediately check for the usual windows, seeing the familiar sights of multicoloured lights, plants, TVs, and finally Seonghwa’s.

But it’s dark. He’s either not home or he’s asleep.

You feel disappointed although you aren’t even sure what you’re expecting. Leaning against the wall, you think back to the exchange in the store. Was he flirting with you? No, you cast that aside. You weren’t the type people flirted with. In your mind, you trace the way the basket rested on his hip, the curve of his neck with his hair swept up, the way his baggy shirt looked on him –

Phew, you think, knowing that a guy hasn’t impacted you like this in a long time. Your brain is creating an assortment of downright pornographic mental images which forces you to shut the blinds once more, sternly telling yourself to go to bed.

*

You’re slightly drunk, teetering in your heels after a night out with your friends. The temperature has dropped considerably over the course of the last few hours and your thin sweater is not helping in the slightest. But you’re almost home, having seen your last friend off just down the street.

It’s easily one in the morning and the city is filled with that energy that only Saturday nights can bring. The relief of blowing off steam, the taste of alcohol burning on the way down, the heat of bodies pressing together in crowded bars – you notice all these things. But, drunk or not, your favourite part is the glow of the city buildings and the sense that no one is ever truly asleep; there is always something going on.

So, you take your time, soaking in the moment before reality will come crashing in with Sunday morning.

That’s why you don’t notice Seonghwa.

But he notices you.

“Oh, it’s my neighbor,” A voice says while exiting a bar, leading you to stop in your tracks as all the oxygen leaves your lungs. “This is the girl I was telling you about, Hongjoong.”

You turn to see Seonghwa in an oversized fur coat. His jeans are well worn but he has a black dress shirt on underneath the coat paired with many necklaces and rings on every finger. His hair is slightly messy in the usual ponytail. On anyone else, the outfit would look ridiculous. On Seonghwa, it looks sexy and comfortable.

His friend is shorter with facial features so delicate you think of glass. His hair is a shock of red, messed up from the night breeze. Wearing a perfectly tailored dark blue blazer with dress pants, he looks like Seonghwa’s complete opposite as though the two men didn’t share the memo on where they would be going that night.

“Oh, the Peeping Tom?”

Embarrassed and intoxicated, you make a sputtering noise of protest. Seonghwa nods and moves closer.

“You going home?” Seonghwa asks.

You nod and go, “You’re not?”

“No, we’re just getting started tonight,” Seonghwa lingers on the word and a heat slowly spreads across your body at being so near him combined with the deepness of his voice, “But you still have a bit of a walk back to your place. Want me to take you?”

“No, no – thank you. I appreciate it. But that won’t – I’m fine.” You’re mostly worried that being drunk around him will lead to embarrassing yourself further.

You picture wrapping your hands around his neck, covering the tattoo while squeezing. The image is so vivid that your heart skips a beat. Seonghwa has an expression on his face – like he knows what you’re thinking about.

He shrugs out of his fur coat. “Here, wear this on the walk back.”

You’re trying to form a coherent sentence but between the booze and how turned on you are, it just comes out as gibberish.

Seonghwa, misunderstanding you completely, goes, “It’s faux fur.”

“No, I – won’t you be cold?”

“Yeah, won’t you be cold?” Hongjoong chimes up mockingly, raising one eyebrow at Seonghwa.

“If I get cold, you’ll let me wear your blazer,” He replies smoothly.

Hongjoong looks affronted. “You most certainly will not wear my blazer.”

But Seonghwa has tuned his friend out, bringing his attention back on you while his hands sweep the coat around your shoulders. It’s comically big on your frame but is incredibly warm. But you’re staring at the motion of his hands as he straightens the coat gently around your neck and shoulders. His rings glitter in the streetlights and he’s wearing a faint cologne that makes your head swim.

Hongjoong is still complaining but Seonghwa’s face is so close to yours that it is all you can focus on. Your body is practically screaming for him; you wonder how evident it is that you’re desperate to fuck him. You are sure that your breathing is uneven and that you’re staring at his lips.

“How will I get it back to you?”

Seonghwa’s voice is soft while replying, “What’s your apartment number?”

You tell him.

“I’ll come by tomorrow night for it.”

You’re too tongue tied to reply, merely nod. Seonghwa straightens up. His shirt fits him perfectly, like a second skin, and you want to peel it off him, run your fingers along his stomach –

“See you tomorrow.” He says and then just to make fun of you, he gives a small salute before turning and walking away with Hongjoong, leaving you on the sidewalk in his oversized coat among the city lights.

*

It’s seven in the evening and you’ve been staring at the TV, not registering anything for an hour now. Seonghwa’s coat is in your lap, bunched in between your fingers. He said tomorrow night. Which is tonight. But no stated time. Night would technically indicate before midnight because after midnight, it’s considered morning. But not everyone thinks of it like that. Which would mean maybe the middle of the night. But who just shows up like that in the middle of the night? And why am I jumping to conclusions? He might knock, ask for his coat and leave. Why am I assuming he would stick around?

Pathetically, though, you do want him to stick around. You want to fuck him, to be blunt about it. You’d settle for making out. Seonghwa makes your head buzz and your thinking muddled. You barely know him but all you can think about is climbing him like a tree.

This circular thinking occurs for another hour until ten minutes past eight, there is a knock at your door. Jumping up, you catch yourself, count to ten, and then open the door as if you hadn’t been waiting in agony for Seonghwa.

But there he is, in front of you, in the hallway of your apartment building.

“Hi,” You say breathlessly.

Seonghwa wears a pair of dark blue jeans with a thick black belt, a sharp contrast from his golden dress shirt that looks casually tossed on at the last second. The fabric is thin, slightly shiny, and the buttons are fraying. The top of his chest is exposed, the shirt dipping to show off his tanned skin and one silver necklace with a green pendant adorning it. His ponytail is messy, black strands of fine hair framing his pretty face. In the dim lighting of the hallway, you can see the red roses tattooed around his neck with the bright blooms of colour against the vines.

You sort of feel as though someone has bashed you over the head with a gigantic fish or some other ridiculous object at the sight of him. You were hoping to look casual, as though you’ve given no thought to him coming by, which means you’re wearing just sweatpants and a shirt. Of course, your cutest bra and underwear is on…just in case.

Seonghwa’s top lip curls slightly, warding off a smirk as he goes, “Hi. It isn’t too late, is it? I had to go out earlier and it was difficult leaving. Hongjoong kept complaining, wanting me to stay.”

This man could have shown up at four in the morning and you wouldn’t have cared. “No, it’s fine. Would you like to come in?”

You are hoping he does, worried he will opt just to quickly ask for his coat and leave. To your relief, Seonghwa nods, stepping inside and slipping his shoes off. When he isn’t looking, you exhale slowly in an attempt to wrangle your emotions under control.

He follows you into the living room where you offer him something to drink and he asks for water. Your place is small, allowing you to see him from the kitchen.

“Did you come from a party?” You ask, trying to make some sort of conversation.

“Did the shirt give it away?” He jokes, “I did but we were out so late last night. I didn’t get to bed until almost seven so I left early tonight.”

“In the morning?” You are shocked – getting home past one last night was late for you.

Seonghwa gives a small shrug in reply. The shirt is so thin. You’re distracted by the material and how easy it would be to tear it right off him. Returning to the living room, you hand him the glass of water and gingerly sit down on the couch. Seonghwa takes his place next to you.

You scoop the coat up, handing it to him. He grabs it, his long fingers gripping the fabric. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. You weren’t cold last night?”

“I wasn’t outside too much. We went to a house party and I didn’t need it there.”

You get the feeling Seonghwa leads a very different life than yours – one full of parties and who knows what sort of activities.

“So, you didn’t just move to the city?”

“No, I’ve lived here my whole life. Just upgrading my place. Although I do need some help decorating it. You should open the blinds again and tell me what you think of the place next time I’m there.”

You shift nervously, already feeling your cheeks grow warm. He takes a sip of water before resting the glass on the coffee table.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” You begin to say, “I wasn’t peeping. I just was looking out the window, that’s all. I find it comforting at night. Certain windows become comforting. Like you always know what to expect when you see them. Knowing they are home, hoping they’re having a nice night when they aren’t. Do you know what I mean?”

Seonghwa tilts his face in your direction. There is an unreadable expression on his face when he replies, “I know what you mean.”

A quiet moment passes.

“But you were looking at me. A little longer than you normally would. Weren’t you?”

“I…” You clear your throat gently. “I was just surprised to see someone half undressed in the window like that.”

“So, it was just that you were surprised and had nothing to do with me then?”

You’re torn between throwing yourself at him and hiding under your covers. You get the feeling Seonghwa is good at this, this sort of flirting, this way of wording things and playing coy. You are not especially when the man is as gorgeous as him.

You make a sort of strange, garbled noise that isn’t actually a word known in any language. Seonghwa grins for a brief moment, shifting slightly so that his knee touches yours. Even though there is no skin to skin contact, it is enough to make your head dizzy.

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa whispers secretively while tilting his face close to yours, “You can admit it.”

The tension is so thick that it smothers. Even though you know next to nothing about this man, there is no denying how much you desire him.

“You’re not usually the type of guy I like,” You mumble.

He brings his slender fingers, dotted with small tattoos, to your chin, gently bringing your lips ever nearer. His eyes are half lidded, lips barely parting when replying, “What’s your type?”

“Nice guys.”

“I’m nice,” Seonghwa replies in that ever deepening voice as the precipice looms.

His fingers are warm against your chin. His lips are a pretty shade of pink, begging to be kissed. So quietly that you aren’t even sure if he can hear it, you whisper, “I don’t want you to be nice.”

Seonghwa’s body is shifting in your direction. The coat is forgotten, still in his lap – a paltry excuse to come over and you both knew it. Perhaps the desire to sleep together was always a mutual one. Regardless of when the seed took root, you somehow both knew it would end up right here.

“What do you want me to be then?” He murmurs, his breath like soft feathers against your lips.

“I want you to be nasty.” The words land gently in Seonghwa’s lap, a cat laying down for a nap, and the corners of his lips quirk up for a split second in a smile.

“I can do that,” He replies and kisses you.

The sensation of his lips overwhelms all your senses. You have no interest in playing coy; your desire for him is too much, too strong. Reaching for his hands, you press them against your body in a silent plea to give you more. Seonghwa obeys, his hands traveling upwards to grope your breasts through your shirt. The kiss deepens and his tongue is in your mouth. You can taste him, crave more of him.

Your skin is hot and your heart is racing. Your hands grip the front of his shirt, using the last of your self control not to tear the flimsy fabric off his chest. Instead, you bite down on his bottom lip and Seonghwa groans in pleasure. He moves one hand downward to the front of your sweatpants, pressing his palm against your clothed pussy. He rubs it a little, creating enough friction that makes you whimper in his mouth.

You suck on Seonghwa’s tongue for a couple of seconds which causes him to make a small noise in the back of his throat that does nothing to calm you down. He’s pawing at you now through your clothes and you are gripping his shirt so hard that it is crumpled in your fingers.

Your underwear is sticking to your pussy from how wet it is and from Seonghwa’s palm pressing there. Thankfully, his hand moves, slipping under the band of your sweatpants. The kisses are growing messy, the urgency at which the two of you want one another threatening to spill over.

That’s when one of the buttons of his shirt pops off. Surprised, you break the kiss to look down at it in your hand. Seonghwa only laughs as you hastily apologize for ruining his shirt.

“It’s fine.” He doesn’t seem to care at all, instead his tone indicates amusement. “It’s an old shirt.”

“Even so, I don’t –” Your sentence is cut off with a moan as Seonghwa brushes his finger across your swollen clit through the front of your underwear.

“What was that?” He asks.

Your head is swimming while trying to retrieve the sentence from the haziness of your mind. “I don’t want to ruin your shirt.”

“You can ruin anything you’d like,” Seonghwa says as his fingers push your underwear to the side. “I don’t mind.”

Once again, your reply is cut short by Seonghwa deftly rubbing your clit with his index finger. His lips find yours and whatever sentence you could have formed is washed away by how good everything is. He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit, the pace ever increasing, and you realize he is going to make you finish.

In between kisses, Seonghwa murmurs, “God, you’re fucking soaked.” There is a note of approval in his voice that you instinctively react to, arching your hips slightly.

Your breathing is uneven as your orgasm draws close. Seonghwa doesn’t stop – to him, it is like making you finish already is just the first step in the night ahead, not the ending event. When you cum, your head rolls back against the couch as he leans down to kiss along your neck, nibbling on your skin.

Your hips lower back down as you realize he hadn’t removed an inch of clothing to make you climax like that. Seonghwa brings his finger to his lips, licking it clean to taste your pussy. You reach for him, crushing his lips against yours while bringing your hand against the front of his jeans to touch the bulge straining on the denim. Seonghwa inhales sharply. Your impatience is nipping at your heels. You want to feel him inside you; your orgasm did nothing to sate your desire.

Kicking off your sweatpants, you get in Seonghwa’s lap, tossing the coat to the side. Fiddling with his belt, you grind down on his jeans and he groans again. The belt joins the coat, a small collection of items that are no longer necessary to what is unfolding. It takes only a few extra seconds to free his cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers. Seonghwa shivers at your touch as you grind your pussy against him while hastily unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, exposing his chest.

He’s in shape, with perfect skin, warm to the touch. The green pendant rests against his skin, cold to the touch when your fingers brush against it. His shirt remains open, hanging off his shoulders. Between all the making out, his hair is messy, the ponytail threatening to come undone.

Positioning yourself so that the head of his cock is at your entrance with your underwear pushed to the side, you sink down, taking his length easily. Seonghwa is thick, filling your pussy up as you shudder from the intensity. He groans, eyes fluttering for a few seconds as he takes in the sensation of your warm walls around his cock. His hands rest on your hips, waiting for you to get used to him.

You can’t remember the last time you wanted someone this badly. The fact you know so little about Seonghwa matters not; you are too focused on how sexy he looks and how good it is to have his cock inside your cunt.

You tentatively rock your hips, enjoying the feeling of being stuffed. Your hand goes down to play with your swollen clit. You’re not even bouncing in his lap, instead marveling at the pleasure of just having him inside you.

Seonghwa moves one hand upwards to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your lips while he asks in a soft voice, “That feel good, baby?” After nodding, you open your lips slightly, just enough for his thumb to enter.

You bite down on him gently while still moving your hips. Your tongue presses against his thumb. He is watching you with lust and when he catches a glimpse of your tongue, he pulls his thumb away and growls out, “Come here.”

He pushes you towards him, driving his cock further inside your pussy while hungrily kissing you. This kiss is sloppy, tongue against tongue. Your hand is on the back of his neck, pulling out the tie in his hair. The black strands fall messily around his face and around your fingers.

You start bouncing in his lap while kissing. His hands gently rest on your lower back. Both of you are barely undressed; time is of the essence. His spit is in your mouth and you are sure that you’re making a lot of noise but don’t care. It simply feels too good and it has been far too long since you’ve fucked anyone.

The kiss breaks and with a gasp, Seonghwa requests, “Pull my hair.”

And you do, giving it a sharp tug while he drives his cock deep into your hole. His cheeks are flushed with a reddish hue and his lips are slightly swollen from all the kissing and biting. You’re staring at Seonghwa’s neck, admiring the way the vines of his tattoo curl around his skin. The bright red of the small roses match the tiny plums of colour on his cheeks.

Seonghwa notices that you’re staring and seems to know exactly what you’re thinking because he reaches for your hands, bringing them up to his neck. You squeeze and he groans, eyes closing as he arches his hips to slam his cock upwards inside your cunt.

His breathing is growing ragged and you know he’s close. “Do it again,” He pleads in a strangled voice and your hands tighten around his neck once more. He looks exquisite as his pleasure reaches the pinnacle. He groans, head rolling back as you release the grip on his slender neck. His hair is splayed out against the back of the couch, his toned chest rising and falling rapidly while his eyes flutter closed.

Small moans topple out from in between Seonghwa’s pretty pink lips as he climaxes. Filling your cunt with his cum, your hands run down his chest, feeling his muscles underneath your fingertips. When his head begins to clear, Seonghwa opens his eyes, fixating his gaze on you.

Gently, he shifts positions, sliding you off his lap, tugging up his boxers and moving so that he’s facing you. He tugs off your underwear, tossing them to the floor and spreads your legs apart. Unsure of what he is going to do, you’re surprised when he brings two fingers to your entrance and slips them inside the mess he’s left in you.

Seonghwa begins to pump his fingers in and out of your hole quickly, bringing his face downwards to wrap his lips around your clit. The entire process only takes a few seconds and the intensity of the pleasure hits you hard. Gasping, your hand finds his hair, gripping onto it while being finger fucked. You can hear the pornographic sounds of Seonghwa’s long fingers plunging in your wetness that is filled with his load. The tip of his tongue rapidly flicks across your clit.

His shirt is hanging off his shoulders, his jeans loose around his waist. His tongue feels like the best thing in the world, only slightly better than the way his fingers curl upwards inside your cunt. The sound of his tongue lapping at your clit mixed with the squelching of his fingers makes you finish with a loud moan, unable to stop from grinding your hips against his face.

Seonghwa stops touching your clit, bringing his tongue to your hole instead to lick up his cum and yours. Your hand releases his hair while trying to catch your breath. Seonghwa looks up then with a devilish look in his eyes that makes your skin warm all over.

He gets up, making no effort to button up his shirt. “May I use your bathroom?” He indicates the mess on his face, leaving down the small hallway after you tell him where it is.

You quickly wiggle your underwear and sweatpants back on as your face grows hot. You haven’t ever slept with someone so soon after meeting them. But you’ve also never desired someone as much as Seonghwa before. Now what? You wonder if he’s just going to return and tell you that he needs to go.

But when he returns, the remaining buttons on his shirt lazily done back up (one is skipped completely in the middle), he plops back down on the couch, looking in your direction.

“You wanna grab dinner?”

*

“Showering with someone is never sexy,” You say while shoving the leftovers from the Chinese takeout that was ordered an hour earlier into your fridge, “It sounds sexy in theory but someone is always just out of reach of the shower head and is cold or they don’t like the water temperature or whatever.”

The conversation about fooling around in the shower had started ten minutes prior when Seonghwa made a flirtatious suggestion. But with only uninspired sexual shower experiences to fall back on, you had demurred until Seonghwa got a confession out of you that it was your belief nothing sexy happened in the shower.

He’s lounging on the couch, looking completely comfortable, like someone who has been in your apartment a thousand times. His hair is still down and out of the small ponytail, curling against the nape of his neck.

“I’m different,” Seonghwa protests, clearly shocked someone doesn’t want to shower with him.

“Not like the other girls?” You joke, sitting back down on the couch.

“I’m not,” He refutes, “Let me show you. It’ll be fun.”

“It’ll be awkward.”

Seonghwa gazes at you steadily with that same mischievous look on his face that he had the night he saluted you through the window. Your heart skips a beat, picturing the hot water rolling down his skin. He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking about once again because he leans forward, close enough to kiss you.

“No,” He murmurs and you both know that he’s got you in his web, “It’ll be nasty.”

*

Ten minutes later, you’re pressed against the cold wall of your shower while incredibly hot water runs down your body. Seonghwa’s lips are on yours, his body lithe and warm, angled against your body. His kisses are slow this time, deepening with each one while his hands roam across your body. You can feel him stiff against your thigh.

Seonghwa’s lips are on your neck now, sucking on the skin, while your hand curls around the pendant. It’s warm against your palm, quieting all your nerves in the strange familiarity of it and Seonghwa.

“See, this isn’t so bad,” He mumbles in that deep voice of his as his hand slinks downward in between your thighs, “Not awkward at all. Maybe it’s just the people you’ve been with.”

There is no witty retort because his finger touches your clit. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hard muscles under your hands as he continues to lazily rub your swollen nub.

“Maybe if you had slept with a neighbor sooner, you wouldn’t have had any awkward shower experiences,” Seonghwa continues conversationally, “I’m just thinking aloud.”

His finger moves off your clit and dips in between your wet folds. You’re thinking about his dick back inside your cunt, thinking about his hips moving –

“Well, I guess we should get out now,” Seonghwa says casually, and your eyes snap open.

“What?” You say, confused.

“You weren’t really into the idea, right? So, we don’t have to spend long in here.”

You pull away from him, looking at his face. The confusion is swiped clean at seeing that glint in his eye. “Are you teasing me?” You ask.

“Now, why would I do that?” Seonghwa replies in mock seriousness. “I’m being considerate. I’m being a nice guy.”

You’re squirming against his fingers now, which have gone still just outside your hole. “Well, stop.”

At this, he laughs. “Stop being considerate? What should I do then?” You like the way his wet hair frames his face, jet black against his skin.

“Fuck me,” You say plaintively.

Seonghwa adjusts, reaching down for your leg, resting your foot on the small shower shelf. His cock is pressing against your pussy lips and the steam is thickening from how hot the water is. Seonghwa hasn’t complained once about the temperature.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” After you nod, he goes, “Then hold onto me.”

And you do, curling your body close to his with one foot planted firmly on the shower floor and the other on the shelf. Seonghwa’s hands are on your lower back, pressing you tightly against him as he slides his cock inside your wet cunt.

The sensation of him filling you up from this angle makes you clutch Seonghwa harder. His skin is hot against your hands, your face is buried in his neck as the water makes your bodies slick against each other.

“Fuck, your cunt is tight,” Seonghwa growls when he is fully inside.

You’d speak but your mind is wiped clean of any words, lost to the sensation of his big cock buried to the hilt in your hole. He moves his hips slightly, just enough to make you whimper. Your hand is on the back of his neck and you can feel his wet hair on your fingertips.

His hands move down to your ass, gripping it hard as he starts to pump his hips. The water runs down your bodies as Seonghwa fucks you. His skin is flushed, his lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. He’s making noises that only give you cause to want him more. He holds you so tightly that you aren’t afraid of slipping. Your own grip on him is just as hard, refusing to let him go as if the two of you can become one in that moment.

The angle is delicious as the tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot. You bite down on his shoulder from the intensity of the pleasure and Seonghwa groans in approval. His tattoos look brighter somehow in the water and you drag your lips up along the vines that curl around his delicate neck.

He pants out your name as his movements quicken. Your walls tighten around his length, anticipating his load. Your own climax is approaching as Seonghwa as his thrusts increase in speed. The sound of skin against skin, the shower water striking you, the steam rising and filling the space and the hungry kisses – all of it collides in one moment, overwhelming your senses.

When you climax, so does Seonghwa. Together, your pleasure crests and breaks. Your pussy milks his cock which spills inside you, leaking out from in between your folds. Seonghwa tilts his face towards you, finding your lips with his and kisses you slowly.

When he pulls away to study your expression, he goes, “So? How was that?”

Panting, you reply, “Good. Good shower experience.”

�� “Told you,” Seonghwa says smugly. “You know, I fuck even better in a bed.”

And you smile.

*

Your phone buzzes late one evening, a week after your night with Seonghwa. Yawning, you look at your phone, half asleep watching TV.

The text reads, “Cum 2 the window.”

If it had been sent by anyone else, you would have found the fuckboy style of writing tiresome. But on Seonghwa, you don’t mind it at all. Getting off the couch, you lumber towards the window, looking over at Seonghwa’s.

He is standing there, shirtless in just a pair of black jeans with his hair up. After the night together, you hadn’t thought you would hear from him again. He seemed like the type to fuck and go; maybe it was his personality, the swagger he had, or a combination of it. You assumed people would throw themselves at him with such regularity that he could go through lovers swiftly.

But Seonghwa texted you all week, engaging in a mixture of sexting and actual conversations. Neither of you had been quick to jump into bed together again; drawing it out created more pleasure than darting over to each other’s apartments every time the urge struck.

You type back, “Did you drag me off the couch just to stare at you shirtless?”

Even from the distance, you can just barely make out his grin. “Maybe.” The expression is familiar; it is the same one he wore after basically fucking you into the mattress after the shower sex. “Wanna cum over?”

“Too cold,” You reply teasingly, “You’re the one with that ridiculous coat. You come over.”

Seonghwa cocks his head to one side. You wonder tonight if the pressure will crack and break. His reply pops up a few seconds later. “Alright. I’ll be there in 15.”

Your heart swoops. You don’t reply, just lift your gaze from the phone to look over at him in his window, your heart swelling.

And Seonghwa playfully salutes before dipping out of view.

the end.