#literally idk what to tag this shit are we doing the citrus scale again???

[infinitum-imaginaerum]

Forbidden | Inseong | M

Forbidden | Inseong Words | 6,100+ Warnings | Sex. Like; idk what else to say.  Notes | So... in case nobody has noticed... I’m Kim Inseong trash *surprise, throws streamers* and uh, he’s been coming for me for a while and @bossmyc put this lovely idea in my head that this smart, mature, sexy man would look fine as fuck doing my taxes and then taking me to bed after and thus this was born! It’s 1:05 AM here and I have work in the morning so sorry that I’m not going to reread this there’s probably 1000000 typos. I’ll come back later. 

Inseong had been holed up in his office for a majority of the day. At least, it appeared that way by the distinct lack of activity evident in the living room and kitchen of the home you shared with him. You spent most of the day at work, like you normally did as a grown adult with adult responsibilities; Inseong, on the other hand, had the day off, but appeared to have spent most of it busy.  

Quietly, you cracked the door open to the office, careful not to disturb him if he was really invested in something. The lone table lamp was on, hardly illuminating the room but adequately lighting the desk he was working at. He was hunched over his Cherrywood desk, his cushy swivel chair stationary and you could hear some typing on a keyboard and the scribbling of a writing utensil here and there.

Opting to leave him for the time being, you closed the door and wandered to the bedroom to get out of your work clothes and take a quick shower. You quietly rustled in the kitchen for a kettle to place on the stove and searched for a hefty mug in the cupboards. The tile was cold on your bare feet, which was unusual because it was February and Inseong would have normally turned the heat on by this point in the day.

When the kettle chirped, you steeped that large mug of tea and cradled the handle and the bottom of the cup as you shuffled back to the office. Just as quietly, you opened the door, but Inseong appeared to still be absorbed in what he was doing. You pushed the door closed behind you and scuffled over him—he had exchanged his swivel chair with an ergonomic rolling stool, which he generally was using when he’d spent ample time in the office, so much so that his back was starting to hurt.

The heavy mug clunked against the Cherrywood desk, and before Inseong could turn around to greet you, both of your warm hands were pulling through his hair as you stood behind him, tugging it away from his forehead. He hummed in satisfaction as a replacement for his greeting, relaxing into your body as you pulled him against you.

Across his desk were your W-2s, a tax program open on the computer and some printed forms splayed across the tabletop.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Inseong hummed, relishing in the feel of your soft fingertips and heavenly nails scrape gently across his scalp as you tugged at his hair. You just hummed back, the smell of his orange peel herbal tea wafting through the stale air of the office that smelled faintly like him, but maybe you could only recognize his scent because you were close enough to him.

“I brought you some tea,” you told him, sliding your hands away from his hair and down the back of his neck, digging the pads of your thumbs into his tense muscles as they slid further and out along his stressed shoulders.

He didn’t have a reply other than a half-sigh-half-moan hybrid as you continued to dig into his warm flesh. He leaned his head back far enough for you to take note of the thick black glasses that barely hung onto the bridge of his nose, though his eyes were closed lightly in content. You leaned over slightly to press a kiss against his temple before burying your face in the crook of his neck, kissing the warm flesh there to be rewarded with a slight hiss and a sigh. Inseong shifted on the stool, and reached up with his left hand to thread his fingers through your damp hair to linger your kiss a little longer.

“What are you doing, my sweet man?” you asked him, reeling back a bit to kiss against his jaw and catch his ear with your soft exhale. You could feel the goosebumps forming under your touch and under your lips against his skin.

He struggled to reply as you continued to distract him, sliding your right hand over his shoulder and down the front of his chest, sneaking into his half-way-buttoned shirt to touch against his warm skin. He snatched your hand with his, dragging it out of his shirt so he could final reply.

“Your taxes,” he breathed quickly, making sure he could get it all out in one go.

You hummed in response and nudged him forward a bit to you could kneel on the stool behind him and really get your massaging hands into his tight shoulders. His head lulled slightly as you began to speak. “You didn’t have to do that, baby. I was going to get around to it. You’re so good to me,” you whispered to him, a deeper implication in your words than just his responsibility taking care of your own.

“Mm, not as good as you are to me,” he almost growled back, spoken words between gritted teeth and a tight jaw. He almost whimpered when your hands disappeared and you weren’t pressed into his back anymore. He could vaguely make out the sound of his swivel chair rolling back over in his misty mess of a brain and he stood immediately with your request to replace the chair.

“I know your back hurts, but if you actually used the backrest of this chair I think you would realize how comfortable it actually is,” you told him, but he seemed to ignore you and the chair as he looked at you, taking your jaw in the light grip of his right hand to turn your face to his and collect your lips in a tender kiss; the proper greeting he usually gave you when you came home from work. He plopped pretty unceremoniously into the swivel chair and watched you with half-lidded eyes, barely having the mind to take the back of your naked knee when you lifted your leg, barely having enough mind to notice you weren’t wearing any bottoms—he was definitely heating up. He tugged you in as you braced on his shoulders, pulling you right into his lap with a gentle sigh.

Your hands traveled down the front of his chest as you settled yourself straddled over his lap in his work-chair; a place you were normally forbidden to sit. His hands formed to the curves of your body as he slid them from your ribcage down to your hips to tug you deeper onto his lap and nipped pleadingly at your bottom lip. Slightly behind you was his cup of tea that you reached for, shoving it into his hands when you thought he was getting too far away from reality.

“Drink your tea,” you pleaded with him, feeling his hands cup around yours to take the hot mug from you. “You’ve been working hard all day, have you eaten well? Been drinking plenty of water? Taken enough breaks to rest your gorgeous eyes?” you asked him. You reached up to take his glasses and pull them softly off his face to set them on the desk.

He couldn’t reply, just pinned his bottom lip between his teeth as your teasing fingers traced the line of his half-unbuttoned shirt, but your eyes never left his.  He took a sip of his tea, knowing you were about to complain. The mug was cradled in his left hand while he reached up to stroke your cheek with his right. He traced his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging it a bit as he stared at your mouth. You chuckled, slightly embarrassed for whatever reason, and your warm breath fanned across his face. Your fingers were still teasing against his skin, slipping under his black cotton button-up to touch over his chest, leaving goosebumps in the trail of your fingertips.

“I can rub you down real good, if you’d like?” you offered as your hands slid back up to his shoulders. You could practically feel the purr in his chest.

“You really want to get this shirt off, don’t you?” he teased you, referencing how many times you’d pushed your hands in it or had been touching some part of his torso. He was fairly certain the only point at which your hands left were to get the swivel chair the two of you were currently perched in. He took another sip of tea, watching you bite your lip as you watched him.

His sweet almond eyes observed you until he reached behind you to place his heavy mug onto the desk. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he pleaded, fingers still entertaining your chin as his eyes shifted to your lips.

“You think that you can just make all kinds of delicious noises to me and then take control, Inseong?” you challenged.

“I think that when I put you over this desk, princess… I can do whatever I want,” he growled back to you—the sweet and compliant Inseong gone as a favor to your desires.  His thumb tugged your bottom lip out from between your teeth as your legs tried to close around his hips, his mouth falling open with yours, sighing with the small whimper that fell from your lips. His tongue teased the corner of his mouth, drawing you in with the coaxing of his grip on your chin.

Inseong kissed you tenderly, tugging your right hip with his left hand. Your eyes had fallen closed before his velvet lips even thought about making contact with yours. His kiss was lighting you up enough, the way his head tilted to the side to kiss you deeper, his tongue warm in your mouth when you eagerly granted him permission. His soft fingers were still cupping your chin, guiding your head to the advantage of his kiss, and it had you shifting on his lap—one hand knotted in the hair on the back of his head and the other clawing slightly at his shoulder.  

The sweet sounds of his kisses, the departing of soft lips from each other was turning you wild almost as much as the kisses themselves. Inseong had you clutching desperately to him already, although it didn’t take much with the mood you were in to begin with—your end goal was the same now.  He hummed into your mouth when your fingers tugged on his soft hair, trying to pull him even closer.

A whimper fell from your quivering lips when he pulled away, a fraction of a second before you were chasing him, nipping at his bottom lip to bring him back to you. The more he was distracted with you, perhaps the better chance you have of your fantasy coming true—having sex in the office. It was a ground rule Inseong laid the moment you two moved in with each other that it was forbidden. Guiltily, it had been a goal of yours to make him break that rule himself and the clearer mind he had, the more likely he was to move the two of you out of there to spoil your chances.

He had alluded that today was the day, the intention of putting you over his desk already verbalized, but you knew sometimes Inseong just said things to rile you a certain way and it worked almost every time.

“Inseong,” you whined to him, his hot mouth departing from yours to move down your neck. Both of your hands had carded through his hair at this point, holding him against your neck as a nipped and tugged and bruised your once immaculate skin, even if just barely.

“Tell me, baby,” he requested, but never ceased his assault on your skin. He kissed down the hollow of your neck and lower, down between the buttons of the shirt you were wearing—a shirt of his—and to the curves of your breasts.

“I want to ride you in this chair,” you sighed, touching back down his chest, but he grabbed your hand before you could get too far. A choked off moan fell between Inseong’s lips before taking the bottom one tightly between his teeth. His head lulled back, resting against the backrest of the chair as he half-bucked under you, digging into your hips.

“You know the rules, baby girl,” he reminded you, both of his hands clutching you close as he looked up into your eyes, taking your lips in another sweet kiss.  “No sex in the office.”

“Please?” you begged him.

“Please what, baby?”

“Please, take me? Can’t we bend the rules this one time?”

The hungry growl that ripped through his chest had your legs clenching against the outside of his. His fingers were digging hard into your hips, pushing his hips up for any type of sweet, blissful sound to fall from your lips, and they did without him having to ask much more. A quiet moan granted that wish as he kissed it off your lips.

“No, baby. Those are the rules,” he told you, struggling hard, his words through gritted teeth; but the other part of him was begging for your clothed core to grind over him.  He had your hips in his grasp, but he wanted to pull you closer and rut you over him through his already too-tight pants.

“Are you sure you don’t want to put me over this desk? Wouldn’t I look so pretty for you against this dark wood, begging for anything you’d have for me?” you pushed, hoping it would be the last straw as you backed off him, plopping yourself daringly on top of his desk, on top of your tax forms, and braced yourself with your hands behind you to lean back, the cut of his shirt covering right where he wanted you the most and the underwear he hadn’t caught a glimpse of yet.

“You know I want to,” he growled, caressing the calf of your foot that had reached out to rub along the top of his thigh. “But if you think this is the first time you’ve pushed me this far in here—”

Another harsh groan trickled from his lips as he leaned over, his forehead resting against your knee when you softly placed your foot over the tent in his pants to stroke gently. Inseong clenched your calf, trying to collect himself as he pushed your leg to the side and stood up. He took your jaw in his grasp again, his warm tongue gracing your mouth as he stood to step between those beautifully parted legs and roughly slid you across his desk back to the front so he could grind that same tent right where you wanted him.

You fed him a needy moan, melting into him—it was clear you weren’t in control anymore as he tugged you off the desk, your legs hooked on his hips while he turned to walk you backwards towards the office door and pushed you up against it momentarily as he hungrily attacked your mouth, swallowing every moan you had to offer him as he ground his front against you.

Momentarily he fumbled with the handle on the door; your arms tightly around his neck, mouth locked with his as he finally go the office door open. Messily, he tried to take you upstairs. His right hand successfully unbuttoned your shirt, enough for him to lay you down on the stairs and worship your body with his mouth, trailing from your collar down between your valley, over your sternum and lower to your navel. The silver chain around his neck was ice-cold against the un-weathered flesh below your navel and above the lace underwear you’d put on for him. His fingers peeled at those underwear, begging to pull them off as you impatiently clawed at his shoulder, coaxing him back up to your mouth to meet again only for him to draw you back into his arms—enough to get you both to the bedroom.

Your feet gently touched the ground at the foot of the bed where he set you, arms dangling at his sides to let you undress him. Your nimble fingers tugged at the buttons on his black shirt, popping them open before you were sliding that cool material off his shoulders and to the floor. In awe, you looked over him, your soft fingers touching over his newly exposed skin and downwards to the waist of his jeans before his right hand snatched yours to press it fully against his erection.

He moaned to you, squeezing your hand against him before you were dropping to your knees in front of him, tugging at the button on his pants and immediately his hand was threaded through your hair, looking down at you as you tugged his jeans off to pool them around his ankles. You were face level with his manhood, pressing against the confines of his gray cotton underwear. Both of your hands were on his hips for a moment, running down over the front of his thighs around to the back of his thighs, pushing your fingers under the tight legs of his boxer-briefs, teasing him with your hot breath.

Inseong was about to protest before you pressed a sweet kiss through the cotton to his underside, his manhood pinned against his abdomen with the help of that underwear. His head rolled back, fingers tightening in your hair as he choked out another moan as you dragged your lips up his shaft just a second before your fingers were peeling his underwear away.

He was shaking his head, you could barely see out of your peripheral. This was all new to him. He never made you, much less asked you, to go down on him. He never even mentioned it as a fantasy in passing, but to treat him for just a moment, you pressed the flat of your tongue against his underside, hot against your tongue as you gave him a generous lick and finished with a sweet kiss, looking up at him. His hands begged for yours and took them gently to help you to your feet, and he pushed his shirt off your shoulders, already undone from the moment on the stairs. It fluttered to the floor to join the one he was wearing.

It was only fair, as he stood naked in front of you. His eyes drank you in like a starving wolf, tongue dancing behind his teeth as he thought of everywhere wanted to put it, even as you reached out to press your hand flat against the searing skin of his chest. His right hand sweetly cupped your jaw, a tender fluttering of eyes as he placed a couple of gentle pecks against your lips—tentative, innocent kisses that progressively got longer, but still sealed shut. After guiding you back until your legs touched the mattress, he coaxed you up, reaching for your knee while your hands braced on his shoulders, helping him lift you onto it.

The cool comforter on your back littered your skin with goosebumps, hairs standing straight up, that sensation coupled with the warmth of Inseong’s tongue deep in your mouth, head cocked to the side as his scalding body eclipsed yours, settling between your legs as he hovered over you. Nimble fingers carded through his hair, the other tracing down his neck, over his spine and back up, eliciting the same goosebumps all over his skin.  

Vaguely, you could feel him cradled between your legs; your panties still a layer between the two of you. But they would be taken care of soon enough as he kissed away from your lips, over your jaw and neck to your ear.

“Can I take these off?” he asked you politely, a gruff whisper in your ear as he pushed his hips into yours, indicating exactly what he was talking about. The slight friction had you pushing your head back into the mattress, arching into his body with all the built up sensitivity.

“Please, get them off,” you begged, a rugged tone of your own taking over your tightening throat, especially as he began his descent, kissing down your neck as you cradled his, down your collar and between your breasts, hands following suit down your sides as he kissed all the way to the band of that lacey material, slender fingers plucking at the waistband as he tugged them down your hips, begging for you to lift them so he could tug lower until you were kicking them off onto the floor.

You could hardly watch him, the way he caressed your thighs with soft fingers and equally as soft kisses. You wanted to throw your head back, the sighs a dime a dozen out of your mouth and into the cool air of the bedroom. The other part of you begged to look at him, to watch him as he kissed up your thigh, your legs falling apart for him with little effort on his part. He looked over you in your entirety and, surprisingly, you didn’t get shy; your high libidos were to thank for that.  

That treacherous pink tongue poked out from between his lips to swipe them as he eyed you. He looked at you, silently asking the question you wanted him to ask. You nodded to vigorously, he had to chuckle, a grin so wicked pulling at the corners of his mouth, you were already reaching out for him as he placed a sweet kiss high against the inside of your right thigh.

“Inseong!” you squeaked, throwing your head back involuntarily as he wasted no time covering your center with his mouth. Your fingers were clawing at the comforter beneath you, trying to keep your squirming to a minimum, his searing tongue sinking deep into the crevices of your womanhood to give you a good swipe, as you did him just a few minutes prior. The hum he gave you had your legs already quivering around him, unable to clench around his neck as one leg dangled over his shoulder, the other pinned under his other shoulder. You cursed unobtrusively into the thick air, brewing with the smell of sweat and sex, your lungs already heaving for the air you denied them with your held breath.

His hot breath was on your thigh for only a moment as he shifted your leg off his shoulder, trailing sweet kisses and gentle nips over your skin, back up your body to bury his face in your neck. You uttered his name, cradling him in the cook of your neck.

“Do you want me?” he asked, teasingly.

“God, yes,” you pleaded, legs hooking around his to pull him into you, finally able to feel the heat of his manhood cradled between your legs.

“Bad?” he asked, pushing you further; he wanted to hear you beg for him, but he was going to have a little fun first. He kissed across your clavicle, rather nonchalantly as he supported himself hovering over you on his left elbow, buried into the mattress at your side while the other left a tantalizing trail down your body.

“Inseong, please,” you begged, not wanting to play these games with him while he was already taking your breath away, his thumb digging into the divot of your hipbone to coax your hips up and rub on the underside of his erection. His head dropped a bit, hair falling over his face as he choked out a moan.

“I don’t think it’s bad enough,” he continued, eliciting a frustrated growl from you.

You scoffed at him, wanting to push him away, wanting to hook your leg on his hip and flip him over and pin him down and admire how drop dead gorgeous he looked underneath you—his kiss swollen lips begging for yours, hair brushed just out of his eyes that would drink you in, hands helplessly pinned above his head while you hovered over him, denying even the friction of his bucking hips.

“You’re lucky I didn’t push your pants down to your ankles and sit you in that chair. I’ve wanted nothing more all day than to come home and spread you out and straddle your lap and take all of that thick—”

Inseong’s mouth covered yours, interrupting your sentence because he just couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed hard between your legs, rocking slowly against your slick opening to have you mewling into his mouth. In the back of your mind you still begged to flip him over, to straddle him the way you wanted, but Inseong was too far into the dominating mood to allow that. You could tell by the way he clawed your hip, the way he pulled at it and pushed your trigger just for him.

“I love when you talk like that to me,” he rasped to you, chastely kissing your lips before sitting back on his legs

The dark tinge in his voice had your leg wanting to rub together. You needed any type of friction, you were getting so frustrated, and you knew he wasn’t having any of you touching yourself before you even could ask. He looked at you with deep eyes, fingers dancing over your core before finding your swollen crux with his thumb. You jolted at the slightest touch, all too ready for him while your hands fell back to your sides.

You strangled the moans in your throat, watching him touch you while he palmed himself. You watched his tongue push against the back of his teeth before his jaw clenched, the pleasure almost too much for him to bear, even while he was just teasing you. Your bottom lip was being abused by your teeth, brow drawn together as your eyes finally lowered.

The sight of his fist around the part of him you needed most forced you against the seams. Your head fell back. You could feel the wetness between your legs as you tried to pinch them together.  You begged for his swollen lips to be on yours, for him to be buried hilt-deep inside of you in the silence of your mind.

“Do you want to ride me?”

Your mouth almost watered at his question, the gentle blush on your cheeks only exacerbated by the thought of him stretching you out, finally. You almost didn’t respond, not wanting your nod to be too enthusiastic. He moved out from between your legs, shifting places with you as he propped the pillows up against the headboard of the bed, settling himself a little slouched and looked at you desperately with a half-lidded hazy gaze, spread out for you just the way you wanted him.

He watched the way your breath hitched in your throat as you crawled over him, directing your lips to his for chaste kiss, and another, and another as you spread over his lap, straddling him with the help of his hands on your hips. Hovering for a moment, up on your knees, he poised himself for you, one hand guiding you down, the other guiding himself up.

A rickety exhale slipped from your mouth as you took the head of his erection. He watched you, star-struck by how gorgeous you looked while one of your hands gripped his shoulder, the other braced against his thigh as you lowered yourself. He caught your head from falling forward, taking your chin to guide your lips back to his as you took more and more of him until he was hilt-deep, completely buried as he moaned against your lips.

Deeply, he inhaled through his nose, waiting patiently for you as he caressed the top of your thighs and up to your hips and back down to your knees. You kissed him, once, twice, thrice and lifted yourself just to sit back down, nails raking at his shoulder as he vocalized his pleasure to you, taking yours just the same.

His head was slightly tilted back to look up at you, coaxing your hand away from his hip and up to his chest while his hands helped you move. He could feel your hot breath against his face in soft pants, watching your eyes barely able to stay on his as you adored the pink tinge on his cheeks and the way his lips were slightly parted. Your tempo was slow, just the way you both liked it as you rocked on him.

“Feel good?” he asked you, voice low and soft as you hunched over, both of your hands entertaining the hair on the back of his neck now, riding him slowly but evenly.

“So good,” you breathed back, feeling Inseong’s hips start to take a little control, meeting your hips with his upward thrusts, but keeping the slow rhythm. He sat up a bit, shifting the angle and you moaned into the crook of his neck now that you could hunch just enough to reach it. Your hands shifted, one clutched in his hair to the back of his head, the other clawing desperately at his shoulder while his caressed up and down your back, crossing his legs butterfly to cradle you in his lap.

Quietly, you cursed. The new angle was rubbing you just right and the pleasured sounds were falling from your lips more frequently as unobtrusive cries of his name, panting against his already hot skin. His hips were doing most of the work, getting antsy for you as you shifted to sit straight, this time his face was buried in the crook of your neck, a ragged moan against your skin as you shifted the angle again. His lips were all over your skin, over your neck and collar. Your head lulled back, his teeth taking purchase of a special patch of your skin to abuse before kissing it apologetically. His mouth tugged at that spot, bursting the capillaries underneath to form a small love-bite. Your fingers were tugging at his hair, a little less gingerly now.

“Lay me into this bed, Inseong,” you pleaded into the open room.

“Yes, baby,” he complied, kissing against your jaw and your lips when your head finally tilted back down. He maneuvered the two of you up and turned the both of you over to lay your back against the cool comforter once more. His left hand took your right, lacing your fingers to pin your hand slightly above your head, lining back up to push back into you, brow drawing together as he listened to the sweet sound of your pleas for him. His right hand tugged your leg, pulling it up and over his hip to start a new rhythm.

You gripped his hand in yours, his lips finding your neck again to pepper it with kisses, occasionally breaking away when you begged for a little more and he’d reel back to plant a firm hand into the mattress, knees spread wide to give him enough leverage to give you what you wanted. His thrusts were long and deep, down into you only to hoist a leg up to rest your ankle on his shoulder—his hand previously laced with yours now gone.

“Oh, my god,” you called to him, your eyes practically rolling into the back of your head. A confident smile tugged at his lips, a soft chuckle falling from them as you pushed your head back, arching up which he traced with his hand, following the curve of your body from ribcage to hip. His pace was a little less forgiving now, he could feel you getting a little tighter, and feel the gates of his own release being tested as he calmly kissed your ankle.

“Yeah? Just what you want?” he asked, wanting to hear how good he made you feel.

“More than, God, you feel so good; you fill me up just right,” you praised, reaching out to touch against his chest, looking for some grounding before you flew off into the sky. His brow drew together, eyes closing tight, feeling the tingling at the gates and came to a screeching halt.

“You’re going to make me come with talk like that,” he teased with a small laugh, catching his breath as he calmed himself down, counting backwards from five as he let your leg slip away from his shoulder. He leaned back over you, hands planted firmly on either side to lean down and kiss your red and swollen lips. Your hand took another hold of his shoulder as he started back up, humming with pleasure as he picked up the pace.

The almost cacophonous sound of his hips meeting yours echoed through your bedroom. Sweaty hips meeting sweaty undersides of legs almost drowned out by both of your moans and whines. The sweat was beading on his face as he worked you over, your hips meeting his thrusts. Occasionally, he would take a rest; slow it down to really worship you, to have you really feel him in his entirety, all his veins and ridges—it drove you wild. He molded into you like you were made for him, and even though it never went flawlessly, it was always spectacular.

His thrusts were getting ragged, unsynchronized and messy, as he was coming to his end; holding off for yours as he listened to your pleas and cries, driving him even further. Inseong was begging you, ready for you to release him, but he wasn’t about to go without taking you first.

“Are you going to come for me?” he asked with a gentle nod, hips slamming into yours. He filled you up so nicely, stretched you out so good and hit you just right; you hardly had the mind to reply as he reached over to take one of your hands, untangling it from the comforter to kiss the back of it. “Come on, baby, let me take you to paradise,” he pleaded, and you knew full well he wasn’t going to finish until you were seeing stars.

Your unceremonious panting was interrupted with a most desperate cry for him as he reeled back, placing his thumb back against your crux as he dropped his rear basically onto the bed to thrust upwards.  Inseong moaned at the feel of your tightening walls, clenching his jaw with one mission in mind as he circled your swollen nub. You were clawing at him, desperate for his free hand that he laced with yours.

His name fell off your lips, your head lulling to the side as the bubbling in your abdomen was reaching its peak. He rubbed up on you in a way only he could, up against the sensitive ripple of flesh that had you coming undone. Your center constricted around him, your choked out moan music to his ears as you arched off the bed, legs tightly around his hips as he finished you off. He took both of your hips in his hands, guiding his slowing pace to have you ride out your high, chasing his own peak. He cursed quietly, uttering your name as he came undone—his thrusts were quick, shallow snaps that finally slowed to a halt. You could feel him pulsing, your legs twitching in response as they quivered around his hips. A hard swallow pushed down your throat as you gazed at him, your vision hazy, hardly able to keep them open. His hair hung over his eyes as his head dangled, his hands on your hips still as he sat there, waiting for you to release him, but this time in a different manner.

He hovered over you on shaky arms, hands planted on either side of you as he leaned over to collect your lips for a couple of short kisses, grinning into your lips with the gentle whine that came when he finally tugged out of you.

“How do you feel?” he asked sweetly, reaching up to tuck some strands of hair away from your face, now damp from sweat instead of from your shower.

“Like I’m in paradise,” you breathed back, stroking his ego a bit despite the fact that you did, indeed, feel higher than a kite. Your body tingled with post-orgasm blood flow, your quivering legs unable to stop shaking as they struggled to stay around Inseong’s waist. “Inseong?” you asked, calling his name, begging for his full and undivided attention.

“Yes, baby?” he replied, hands still rubbing you down, facilitating blood flow to all the proper places now, like back into your legs.

“I love you, so much,” you told him, opening your eyes again to look at him, to look at the sweet smile on his lips, the dazzling sparkle in his eyes that he always got when you said those words to him.

“As I do you, darling,” he replied, taking your left hand and leaning over to kiss the back of it. He kissed every one of your fingers individually, taking his sweet time to kiss the knuckle of your ring finger, always admiring the diamond speckled white-gold band that sat pristinely around it.

“You’re my world and everything in it.”

#inseong #kim inseong #sf9 #inseong smut #kim inseong smut #sf9 smut #inseong scenarios #kim inseong scenarios #sf9 scenarios #literally idk what to tag this shit are we doing the citrus scale again??? #inseong lemon #lmfao that feels dirty #sf9 lemon #ugh it's nasty hahahahahaha #ANYWAY HERE IT IS EVERYONE CAN COME SUFFER WITH ME OKAY THANK YOU