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after whining to chan about how bad you miss sex post-breakup, your sweet boy makes sure his noona never misses it again
WARNINGS: +18 mdni, penetrative sex, pussy eating, fingering, crying (from pleasure), mention of body fluids (cum/saliva), wrist pinning, clit stimulation, safe sex, overstimulation i guess, and pillow talk.
a/n: i love this pretty man so fucking much :( and im back, slowly but I'm back! love yall, missed you so fucking much <3 hope yall have a nice week!! not revised, 67 idk
it starts in the most ordinary way, which is probably why it stays with you longer than it should. nothing about that night was meant to change anything. it was just you and chan, like always, sitting too close on your couch, a couple of empty beer bottles on the table, music playing low enough that it felt more like a background thought than actual sound. he had come over after work, complaining about something small, you barely remembering what, and you had laughed it off, the way you always did with him, easy and expected.
chan had always been that for you. easy.
you were older, more resolved, more used to the weight of things. he was lighter, softer around the edges, still figuring himself out in ways you had already gone through years ago. and eventually, somehow, he had become your person. if anything, it showed in the way he listened more carefully than most people your age, in the way he paid attention to details others brushed off, in the way he stayed when conversations got too heavy for everyone else.
so that night, when the conversation drifted the way it did, it didn’t feel strange at first.
you were already a little tipsy, the warmth of the alcohol sitting comfortably in your chest, loosening your thoughts just enough that you stopped filtering them so carefully. he was sitting beside you, legs stretched out, head tilted back against the couch, listening in that careful way he always did, like everything you said mattered more than it probably should.
“you know what’s the worst part?” you said, staring at your bottle, turning it slowly between your fingers.
“hm?” he hummed, not even looking at you, but you knew he was listening.
“breaking up,” you continued, your voice softer now, more honest than you usually allowed yourself to be. “everyone talks about missing the person, or the routine, or whatever… but no one talks about missing the sex.”
that made him glance at you.
you didn’t look back. you just kept talking, because once you started, it felt easier to let it out than to stop.
when you finally turned your head, he was already watching you, brows slightly drawn together like he was thinking too hard about something.
“what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes a little.
he hesitated.
and that was new.
chan didn’t usually hesitate with you.
he looked down at his hands for a second, then back up “i mean…” he started, voice uncertain. “i could help you with that.”
and for a second, you thought you had heard him wrong.
you blinked. “what?”
he let out a small breath, like he was already regretting saying it, but he didn’t take it back. instead, he looked at you properly this time “i’m just saying,” he continued, slower now, choosing his words more cautiously. “you don’t have to… miss it. if you don’t want to.”
you stared at him, trying to process what he had just said, but your mind kept getting stuck on the same thing. he wasn’t joking. there was no teasing tone, no playful smile, no easy way to brush it off and laugh like you usually would.
he meant it, and suddenly, you were very aware of how close he was, how his knee was almost touching yours, how his arm rested along the back of the couch, just behind you, how his eyes hadn’t left your face since he said it.
“chan…”
he swallowed, and you noticed it “i know it sounds weird,” he said quickly, a small, nervous laugh slipping out. “i just— i thought… you know. we trust each other. and it wouldn’t have to be a big deal or anything.”
you let out a slow breath, your heart beating a little faster than it should, because the thing is, he wasn’t wrong. you did trust him, more than most people.
“you’re serious…”
“yeah,” he answered, just as quietly.
you looked at him again, and it hit you in a way it hadn’t before. chan had always been attractive, in that effortless, boyish way you had never let yourself think too much about. it had never mattered, because he was yours in a different way, untouchable in that sense. and it unsettled you, not because it felt wrong, but because it didn’t feel as impossible as it should.
“and then what? we just… go back to normal?”
he hesitated again, but not for long “if that’s what you want,” he said. “yeah.”
you studied him for a moment, searching for something in his expression; doubt, hesitation, anything that would make this easier to dismiss. but all you found was sincerity, because now the choice was yours. you leaned back against the couch, your head resting where his arm was stretched out behind you, and neither of you moved away.
“you’re insane,” you murmured, but there was no bite to it.
he huffed out a quiet laugh. “i’ve been told.”
you closed your eyes for a second, trying to gather your thoughts, but they refused to settle into anything clear. then uou opened your eyes again, turning your head slightly until you were looking at him.
“you really thought this through?” you asked.
he gave a small shrug, “more than i should have, probably.”
and just like that the air between you two shifts thick and heavy like the room itself is holding its breath, waiting for you to say yes or no. but you dont say shit, you just look at him this easy boy who’s always been your safe place, and something in your chest cracks open. because it feels too real too ordinary to be this charged.
the way his eyes drop to your mouth, then lower, like he’s been thinking about this longer than he let on. you swallow hard heart hammering stupid in your ribs and mutter “okay chan fuck it show me what you got” your voice casual but your thighs press together a little, because you’re already wet just from the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters right now.
he doesn’t waste time, doesn’t make it weird or movie perfect, he just leans in slow his hand sliding up your thigh under the hem of your loose shorts. the calluses on his fingers rough in the best way scraping lightly over your skin, making you shiver and think; shit this is chan, your chan, the one who brings you coffee without asking.
and now his breath is hot against your inner thigh as he tugs your shorts and panties down in one go, leaving you bare on the couch cushions the cool air hits your pussy, and you feel yourself clench around nothing, already dripping a little because your body’s been waiting for this even if your brain’s still catching up.
he settles between your legs on his knees like it’s the most natural thing in the world, pushing your thighs wider with those big hands, his thumbs digging in just enough to keep you open and exposed, and you watch him watch you. his eyes dark, but still soft around the edges, like he’s checking if you’re okay and that does something stupid to your inside.
he dips his head and drags his tongue flat and slow up your slit, collecting every bit of your slick in one long lazy lick, the wet heat of it makes your hips twitch, and a low “oh shit” slips out of you, because fuck it’s better than you imagined.
the way his tongue feels smooth and warm pressing against your folds, parting them like he’s savoring the taste of you. he moans right into your pussy, the vibration buzzing straight to your clit, making your breath catch.
he does it again, slower this time, circling the tip of his tongue around your entranc, teasing the sensitive skin there before sucking gently at your folds. the soft wet pull of his mouth creating this obscene little suction sound, that fills the room louder than the music still playing low in the background.
and you can hear how wet you are already, the slick sounds of his tongue lapping at your juices like he’s drinking you down, not rushing, his lips seals around your clit and he sucks harder, the pressure building perfect, and filthy the way your clit throbs under the suction like it’s being pulled into the wet heat of his mouth, makes you feel that familiar burn starting low and sharp. the good kind that makes your toes curl against the couch.
he flicks his tongue fast, then slow, alternating between tight little circles, and broad flat strokes that drag over your swollen nub. leaving you gasping as your hand flies down to fist in his hair tugging hard, because chan knows exactly how to work you, like he’s studied every little reaction you might give, and the strangled moan that rips from your throat is nothing like the ones you’ve made alone.
your mind’s spinning, because this is supposed to be just helping out, but it feels too fucking good. the constant schlick schlick of his mouth slurping up your arousal that’s leaking down your thighs, makes you drip onto the couch, but you don’t even care because he’s humming against you like he loves the taste, and it vibrates through your whole pussy making your walls flutter around nothing.
in a blink, his fingers are there. two of them thick and calloused sliding through your folds easily, he pushes one in first slow and deep curling it just right to rub against that spot inside you, that makes your vision blur. the sound it makes is so fucking wet, a loud squelch as he pumps it in and out lazy at first, letting your juices coat his hand completely before adding the second finger.
he's stretching you open, and the burn is perfect, that slight sting mixing with the pleasure as he scissors them apart then curls, both hooking them deep and dragging back out over and over. the rhythm matching, the way his tongue’s still sucking your clit like he’s trying to pull an orgasm right out of you, his fingers thrusting faster, the wet squelching sounds getting louder and messier every time he buries them to the knuckle.
you’re grinding down on his face without thinking, hips rolling chasing that pressure, because it feels too real, too good, the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, dripping down his wrist, and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull back, even when you tug his hair harder.
“chan fuck right there don’t stop” your voice all broken and desperate.
he gives the kind of head that ruins you for anyone else, the kind that’s messy and real and so fucking intimate you feel it in your chest too, not just between your legs.
he pulls back just enough to breathe, hot against your soaked pussy, his chin shiny with your juices and he looks up at you eyes half-lidded, you can see the bit of tiredness in his breath, but he looks like he is far from stopping now.
“you taste so fucking good…” he murmurs, before diving back in tongue fucking into you now alongside his fingers, the combination making your back arch off the couch a choked moan tearing out of you as the wet sounds turn even filthier the constant slick slide of his tongue and fingers working you open.
he pushes you closer and closer and you’re lost in the way your body’s reacting so honest, the burn in your clit from his relentless suction, the deep ache building low in your belly from his fingers curling just right, every thrust dragging more of your wetness out with those loud obscene squelches that make your face heat up, but ends up turning you on even more.
why?
because it’s him doing this to you, your chan, making you fall apart on your own couch like it’s nothing. and you know deep down, this isn’t going back to normal, not after the way he’s devouring you like he’s been starving for it.
your body locks up tight without warning. the orgasm crashes through you like a goddamn wave you didn’t see coming. your back arches clean off the couch, thighs clamping around chan’s head as that deep burn in your clit explodes into white-hot sparks.
his tongue still suctioned hard around your swollen nub, pulling every last drop of it out of you, and you cum messy and loud, a broken “oh fuck, chan—” ripping from your throat while your pussy clenches and flutters hard around his fingers, gushing warm slick all over his chin and mouth.
he moans right into your cunt, loud and deep, like he’s the one falling apart too. his voice vibrating through your pulsing walls, making the aftershocks hit harder. you feel every lick, every swallow as he eats you through it, greedy and filthy, not pulling away even when your hips jerk and twitch, because he’s drinking you down like he can’t get enough.
the way your mind blanks out completely, just pure heat and mess, and the thought that this is your easy safe chan, now tongue-deep in your pussy moaning like he’s starving for your cum. that alone makes you cum a little harder, he keeps licking you soft and slow through the comedown, his moans turning into these satisfied little hums while your chest heaves and your thighs tremble around his ears.
the second he feels your body start to relax, the tension easing out of your muscles, he’s already moving. no time for you to catch your breath or float down gentle.
he sits up quick, his chin shiny with you, his eyes dark and blown wide, and you watch hazy as he reaches down, unbuckling his belt with one hand, the other still stroking your soaked folds like he can’t stop touching you. the metal clink sounds so ordinary against the wet mess between your legs.
he leans sideways, grabbing his backpack off the floor beside the couch, rummaging fast until he pulls out a condom, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth while his free hand shoves his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, thick and hard and already leaking at the tip. and you’re still blinking through the fog of your orgasm when he rolls it on quick and messy, not even giving you a second to process before he’s back between your thighs, lining himself up.
your eyes fly open wide the moment you feel the blunt head of his cock push against your dripping entrance, and you arch hard, a needy mewl slipping out as he's right there, pushing in, stretching you open while your pussy’s still fluttering and sensitive from cumming.
the continuity of it hits you so fucking hard, that full heavy slide right after your orgasm making your walls clamp down around him, greedy and wet. you look up at him then, and his perfect abs are clenching tight with every slow thrust, his shirt rucked up just enough to show the way they flex and roll under his skin. his eyes rolling back a little as he bites down hard on the inside of his mouth, trying to keep it together, and you feel it all, the burn, the stretch, the way he fills you so good it makes your toes curl again.
you mewl at him all sly and breathy, “let me feel you, channie.”
he doesn’t even hesitate. he grabs your hand quick, sliding it up under his shirt right over those warm clenching abs, letting your palm drag across the hard ridges of muscle while he leans down over you, his chest pressing close.
his mouth is on yours, swallowing the loud moan that rips out of you the second he bottoms out deep. the kiss is messy and desperate, muffling how fucking loud you get because the stretchand the way his cock throbs inside your still-spasming pussy is too much, balls deep buried inside you, while he's kissing you stupid while your nails dig into his abs and your hips roll up to meet him like you never want this ordinary night to end.
every second surprises you, like he’s reading your body better than you ever could. right when you think you’ve caught your breath from that first deep thrust, chan grabs both your wrists in one big hand and locks them above your head against the couch cushion, pinning you down easy and firm. his other palm slides flat over your lower belly, pressing hard right where his cock is buried inside you, and fuck the pressure skyrockets.
you feel him thicker, deeper, the head of his dick dragging against that spot with every tiny movement, like he’s molding your insides around him on purpose. your eyes squeeze shut and a broken sob slips out, tears already pricking hot at the corners because it’s too much and not enough all at once.
“chan— oh my god,” you choke, voice cracking into nothing but wet mewls.
you can feel it in the way his hips snap harder, grinding that perfect pressure against your belly from the outside while he rails you from the inside, like he wants to erase every lonely night you spent missing this exact feeling. every thrust punches the air out of you, wet slaps echoing loud between your bodies, your slick coating his ballsack and dripping down your ass with every pull back. your pussy flutters and squeezes around him so tight it almost hurts.
he leans down close, lips brushing your ear, and gives you that pretty white smile you’ve seen a thousand times, only now it’s filthy and soft at the same time. “i know, baby,” he murmurs in the prettiest voice, all low and sweet and a little breathless, like he’s savoring the way you fall apart for him. “i know it’s good. gonna make sure you never miss this shit again.”
before you can even try to answer, he pulls out sudden and smooth, flips you over like you weigh nothing, and yanks your hips up so you’re on all fours. your knees sink into the couch, ass up, back arched, and he’s sliding back in before you can whine at the loss.
the new angle hits even deeper, his cock dragging along your walls with every brutal thrust, your pussy taking him so loud it fills the whole room.
you can only mewl, over and over, face buried in the cushion, tears slipping free now “s’good— chan, s’good, please— s’good—”
he laughs soft and fond behind you, that same lovely voice wrapping around the words as he rails you harder, hips snapping in strong rolls “yeah? that’s my girl. just take it, baby. let me fuck all that missing right out of you.” his abs clench tight every time he bottoms out, balls slapping wet against your clit, and you’re crying into the fabric, body shaking, this night just turning into the kind of sex that rewires your brain, and chan’s the one doing it with that stupidly sweet smile and those relentless hips.
you don’t even remember what you were complaining about anymore. all you know is his cock, his hands, his voice telling you he knows, and the way your pussy keeps gushing around him like it never wants him to stop.
it tightens in your belly again without any warning, that familiar coil pulling so fast and so fucking tight you’re actually impressed by how quick another orgasm is already building up, like your body’s been starving for this exact feeling and chan’s the only one who knows how to unlock it.
you don’t even moan anymore. your mouth just drops open in a wide, silent ‘o’, eyes squeezed shut as hot tears slip down your cheeks and you sob without sound, the pleasure so overwhelming it steals every noise right out of your throat. your whole body shakes on all fours, knees sinking deeper into the couch while chan keeps railing you from behind.
his hand sneaks under you then, sliding between your trembling thighs, and he sinks his fat cock completely inside you in one hard thrust, bottoming out so deep the pressure in your belly spikes even higher. his fingers find your swollen clit and start flicking it fast, tight little circles that make your vision spark white. “that’s it, baby, cum on my cock, let me feel you.”
you can’t even answer, just sob silently into the cushion as the orgasm rips through you hard and sudden, your pussy clamping down around him like a vice, squeezing and fluttering so tight it drags him right over the edge with you. he groans deep in his chest, hips stuttering as he cums hard inside the condom, thick pulses you can still feel through the latex while your walls milk him for everything he’s got.
your arms give out completely after that. you can’t even keep yourself on all fours anymore, you just collapse belly-down onto the couch, face buried in the cushion, ass still slightly up because he’s still buried inside you, breathing hard against your back.
chan stays there for a second, chest pressed to your spine, then he lets out a soft little scoff under his breath, quiet enough that he thinks you won’t hear it, like he’s trying so hard not to make you feel embarrassed about how fast and how hard you just fell apart for him.
but you do hear it, and it makes something warm bloom in your chest because it’s so fucking him. he pulls out slow and careful, already reaching for something to clean you up like this was never supposed to be a big deal, even though both of you know it just changed everything in the best goddamn way.
[...]
after the quick bath you two took, with chan’s arm wrapped tight around your waist the whole time because your legs were still wobbling like a damn newborn deer, you both ended up freshly showered and completely naked under the fat, hot, white duvet. the room smelled like your coconut soap mixed with his skin, and the only light came from the stupid little lamp on the side table that you always forget to turn off.
you were curled into his chest, one leg thrown lazily over his thigh, his arm heavy and warm around your back, like he couldn’t stop touching you even now.
you felt boneless and floaty while kssing him, pussy still tingling from everything he did, a lazy throb between your legs that made you shift a little closer. the kiss slows down naturally, like neither of you is in a rush anymore. his mouth moves against yours with a patience that makes your chest ache. you can still taste him, still feel the warmth of him. by the time you both pull back, it’s only enough to breathe, your foreheads brushing, noses barely touching, lips still ghosting each other like neither of you wants to let go fully.
“hey,”
you tilt your head slightly, just enough to look up at him. “hm?”
his fingers pause for a second, then resume, slower this time. “i need you to know something.”
you don’t say anything, but you feel your chest tighten a little, your attention sharpening.
“this… tonight,” he continues, searching for the right words, “it wasn’t just me trying to help you feel better… or distract you or anything like that.”
you study his face.
“i care about you,” he says, more quietly. “a lot more than i probably should.”
you let out a small breath, your cheek still pressed against him, but your eyes don’t leave his.
he gives you that small smile, the one you’ve seen a hundred times, his hand comes up to brush a damp strand of hair away from your face, his thumb lingering just slightly against your cheek.
“i’m not… using you,” he adds, almost like he needs to make it clear. “that’s not what this is for me. you’re not just… this.” he gestures faintly between you, then lets his hand settle back against you.
you swallow, your throat tight in a way you weren’t expecting.
“you’re the person i go to,” he continues, “when my day’s bad. when something good happens. when i don’t feel like being around anyone else. you’ve been that for me for a while.”
you shift slightly, your fingers curling lightly against his side, grounding yourself.
“i like you,” he says, more simply this time. “not just like this. just… you.”
there’s a pause, but it’s not empty. you lift your head a little more, your faces closer now, your breath mixing with his. your nose brushes his, and for a second neither of you moves. “i just didn’t want to go back to pretending,” he adds, almost under his breath.
your chest tightens again, but this time it’s warmer.
“and what are you asking for?” you ask.
he looks at you properly now, his expression open in a way that makes it impossible to look away.
“more than just tonight,” he says. “if you want that too.”
your gaze drops for a second, your thoughts catching up to you, then you look back at him.
“you’re serious,” you say.
“i am.”
you let out a slow breath, your hand shifting slightly against him. “and if i say no?” you ask, not because you mean it, but because you need to hear it.
his expression softens even more. “then nothing changes unless you want it to.”
that answer sits with you. you lean in without overthinking it, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. it’s slower this time. when you pull back, you stay close, your forehead resting against his. “you make this very hard to ignore,” you murmur.
he smiles faintly, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek again. “that’s kind of the problem, yeah.”
hello! by any chance do you upload your fics on janitor ai too? i saw a seungcheol bot with the exact same writing as yours and i was wondering if it was stolen or not
hello my love❤️❤️❤️
i actually saw a few messages about janitor ai in my inbox recently, and i have to be honest with u… i don’t even really know what it is 😭 like if it’s an ai fanfic platform//an ai chat thing, or something in between (IM OLD OK?!)
i only post my writing here on tumblr, always have!!! so yeah… if u found something out there that sounds exactly like my writing, chances are someone took it without permission and that sucks, i won’t lie :/ but at the same time, there’s not much i can really do about it …
i just hope ppl dont let plagiarism rot their creativity, because there’s nothing better than that feeling of making smth that’s yours from scratch, something that ACTUALLY comes from you!! but yeah… i’ll stay in my lane… y’all already know where the originals live 💋
thank u for telling me though, means a lot that u care and took the time to warn me! love u guys so much ❤️❤️❤️
eu só acho que a melhor escritora de fics do Seventeen devia escrever algo em comemoração ao Carnaval🤔🤔🤔não é um pedido só uma opinião pública 😋
ai gente pior que to com vontade demais, porém passei o feriado inteiro tentando me recuperar do bloquinho do calvin harris e dos maços de marlboro + skol beats de um litro QUE EU NÃO SABIA QUE EXISTIA 😭😭😭 enfim deus me nerfou
trago pra vocês algo, com certeza! tudo bem ser um pouquinho depois? rs
"Hahaha I'm sorry for disappearing for so long lmao I got married btw" *drops masterpiece*
Truly the spirit of fanfic
BRO SO REAL 😭😭 always the fanfic writers that comeback with the most INSANE life update ever… felt sooo on brand, truly honoring the fanfic writer spirit 😭✋ near death experience/ divorce/restraining order era… they truly walked so i could run
hi anon 🫂 i’m so fucking happy to be back here, like, genuinely. my previous job cockblocked me every single time i tried to sit down and write 😭
they promoted me to manager (grade 4, help), and the biggest, nastiest secret i learned in that hellhole is this: never give your 100%. because the day you give 99.9%, they will use it against you. give them 50% and save the other 50 for yourself, pls. learn from my mistakes. 🙏🙏🙏 all of that happening during my first year of marriage, too. that poor man had to deal with my burnouts&stress spirals.. :(
but!!! i’m healthy now, healing,, trying to become a muscle mommy again 💪🏽 and mainly… a writer. thank u for being here. i missed this place more than i can explain.❤️❤️❤️
why jihoon is the perfect lowkey hang guy (according to the voices in my head).
WARNINGS: fem!reader (emphasis in a feminine presence in his life), kind of friends to hook up, smut, body fluids (cum), masturbation (f. & m.), fingering, blowjob, penetration, creampie, semi-public sex, spanking, vibrators, will make you rethink your standards, will ruin casual relationships for you. 4.4k words.
A/N: his is a drabble, not a fic btw, it’s messy, rushed, and honestly kinda poorly written, so, please lower your expectations 😭 i’m trying to come back slowly after a long hiatus. i’ve been working a lot lately n got married (that’s the reason i disappeared for so long). sorry for going quiet with no updates, truly, and thank you for sticking around anyway!! i missed y’all so fucking much, i swear. hope you still enjoy this little thing 🖤 THE BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN
jihoon is literally the perfect person to sneak around with in a big friend group or even at work/college, and it’s actually insane how nobody talks about it properly. like when you’ve got a whole damn crowd around you 24/7; people loud as fuck, always touching your stuff, always opening doors without knocking, always asking “where you going?” like they’re the damn FBI.
if you ever wanted something secret, something private, something that feels more intimate, you’d pick jihoon every single time, trust me, because he’s not messy with it. he’s not loud. he’s not showy. he’s not that annoying type that needs everyone to know he’s getting some pussy. he’s quiet, discreet, and the scariest part is he’s so naturally like that, it doesn’t even feel like he’s hiding. it just feels like he’s existing in his own world.
and it’s not even giving “i’m a bad boy, i’ll ruin your life bc im cold” either. i know people love forcing that “cold” vibe onto him, but it’s so fucking fake. if you’re already part of the group, if you’re not some random outsider trying to insert yourself, he’s not gonna treat you like a disposable secret. he’d treat you like a choice, like it’s not just convenience.
you should tell when someone’s just bored versus when someone actually wants you. and jihoon it’s the type that can look bored at everything in the world and still make you feel picked out like you’re the only thing in the room that makes sense.
it starts small, it’s you two sharing the same couch after everyone’s done screaming and laughing, the air smelling like ramen cups and energy drinks and that weird body spray someone keeps overusing. you’re tired, you’re scrolling on your phone pretending you’re not watching him from the corner of your eye. he’s got that calm face on, like nothing reaches him, like everything slides off.
but then you notice how he does notice things. the tiniest shit. you shifting your leg. you huffing because somebody left the window open and now it’s freezing. you rubbing your temple like you’ve got a headache. he doesn’t ask “are you okay?” just makes it better in the quietest way possible, like he’s patching you up without letting anyone catch him doing it.
and you’re sitting there thinking, god, this is exactly why he’d be perfect for secret anything. because he doesn’t make it a production. you could literally disappear with him for ten minutes and no one would realize it was a thing. it would just look like life happening. “oh, jihoon went to grab something.” “oh, y/n went to the bathroom.” nobody would connect the dots because jihoon doesn’t leave crumbs. he’s not that guy getting cocky and walking back into the room with that smug look on his face like “yeah i just did that.” noooooo absolutely not. he walks back in like he never left, like nothing happened, like he’s always been sitting there like he’s the safest liar you’ve ever met, except it doesn’t even feel like lying because he’s not doing it to hurt anyone.
and honestly, if you ever got into that kind of situation with him, some little after-hours slip, some “we should go somewhere quieter” moment, you wouldn’t even feel scared. not in a bad way. you’d feel that buzzy, stupid adrenaline like you’re in on a secret joke with the universe. the kind that makes your skin feel too tight, like you’re wearing your own body wrong,, you’d be walking behind him down a hallway that’s too bright, past a bunch of doors that all look the same, thinking about how ridiculous this is because you’re literally just walking and yet it feels filthy. it feels like you’re doing something you’re not supposed to, just because he’s the one leading the way and he’s not saying shit about it.
and you know what would absolutely fuck you outt? it wouldn’t be some big dramatic move. it’d be the quiet stuff, like him stopping in front of a door, checking behind him out of habit, and you realizing he’s doing it for you. like he’s making sure you’re safe before anything else. and you’d hate that you love it, because it’s way too intimate for something you’re pretending is casual, it’s way too boyfriend-coded for a situation that’s supposed to be nothing.
and i truly don’t think he’d have the courage to look you dead in the face and go “this is just sex, don’t catch feelings.” like… be so serious. jihoon? saying that out loud? absolutely not. he’d rather chew glass. he’d rather stare at the wall and quietly suffer. because if it’s you, if you’re already part of his everyday, already someone he trusts enough to be around when he’s tired and unfiltered, he’s not going to want to reduce you to nothing, do you get me?
he might try to act like it’s simple at first, like it’s contained, like it’s just a fun little secret you both keep tucked away. but he’s a romantic man, i’m sorry, i KNOW it in my bones. he’s the type that gets attached in the most inconvenient way possible, like a song getting stuck in your head. he won’t admit it until it’s already too late, until he’s already thinking about you when you’re not there, already noticing your absence like it’s a missing piece of his routine.
because you’re different in his life. you’re not one of the boys, and that matters, not in a weird gender-war way, but in a real, human way. there’s something about the way you exist that changes the air around him. you bring this female caring energy (without momming ofc), this vividness that doesn’t feel loud but feels warm, like a lamp turned on in a dark room. you notice when he’s quiet for too long. you offer him the last bite of something without making it a big deal. you ask him if he ate. you tease him in a way that doesn’t embarrass him. you look at him like he’s not just “jihoon from the group” but like he’s a whole person. and that kind of attention, that kind of softness, sticks to him, it worms its way into his life and makes a little nest there.
so yeah, if you start sneaking around with him, it wouldn’t be this explosive, messy, public thing. it’d be small, it’d look like nothing from the outside, but it would feel like everything when you’re inside it.
it’d be late, everyone half-asleep or distracted, some dumb movie playing in the background that nobody’s actually watching. and you’d catch him watching you instead, just for a second, just that quick flick of his eyes, and it would hit you like a punch; oh, maybe he wants me?? not like a random urge. like a choice he’s making over and over. and you’d feel your stomach drop because you’d realize you want him too, in that stupid, greedy way that isn’t just about seeex.
and the secret would become this thing you carry around all day like a little spark in your pocket. you’d be standing in the kitchen with the others, nodding along to some conversation you don’t care about, and you’d feel jihoon behind you, close enough that you can sense him without turning around. he wouldn’t touch you, obviously, he’s not reckless. but the suspense would be there anyway, humming under your skin, and it would be so fucking hot, honestly, because nothing’s happening and yet everything is happening. your brain would be screaming, your face would be neutral, and he’d be acting normal like he’s not the reason your thoughts are filthy as hell.
and then when you finally get a moment alone again ,just a sliver of privacy, it would feel like exhaling after holding your breath all day. like you can finally be real for five seconds. and he’d still be quiet and calm. but the second you’re close enough, it would be obvious; he’s been thinking about it too, he’s been holding it in too, he just does it better than anyone else!!
and that’s why he’s perfect for it. because he can keep a secret without making you feel like one.
he’d let you invade his routine in the softest ways, he’d make room for you like it’s accidental, like it’s nothing, but suddenly you’re always there, your charger plugged into his outlet, your hair tie on his wrist, your hoodie on his chair. and he wouldn’t say “stay.” he wouldn’t even ask tbh, he’d just keep leaving the door open for you, again and again, until you realize you’re not sneaking around anymore.
and since you know i'm not the best with fluffs, here's the SEX part you've been waiting for;
jihoon would never rush it, that’s the first thing you gotta understand. he’d take his sweet fucking time even when the clock’s ticking and the rest of the dorm could BARGE in any second. he’d have you backed up against the wall in some random empty bathroom while everyone enjoyed the airbnb your group of friend rented for the weekend, your back pressed to the cool tiles, legs already shaking before he even touches you properly.
he’d start slow, always. hand sliding up your thigh under your skirt, the tip of his fingers dragging lazy circles on the inside until you’re squirming. “stay still,” he’d mutter quietly, not even looking at your face yet, just watching his own hand disappear under the fabric. he’d hook your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off, because why waste time when he already knows exactly how wet you are for him.
and you would be dreeenched. he’d feel it the second his fingertips brush your folds, slick, hot, coating him immediately. he wouldn’t say anything about it at first, just let out this quiet, almost annoyed little breath like he can’t believe how easy you get for him. then he’d drag those two fingers up, collecting all that wetness, spreading it over your clit in the slowest, softest circles. not pressing hard, just gliding, teasing the hood, letting your own slick make everything slippery and obscene.
jihoon would watch your face the whole time, eyes half-lidded, lips parted just enough that you can see the tip of his tongue when he swallows. he’d notice every twitch, how your hips jerk when he circles just right, how your breath hitches when he drags the pad of his middle finger flat over the swollen little bud. and when your clit’s already hard, puffy, standing out like it’s begging, he would get mean in the gentlessst way possible.
he’d focus right on the tip. that tiny, hypersensitive peak. using just the lightest pressure, barely there, feather-soft, rubbing tiny, tight circles with the very tip of his finger, using your own wetness to make it glide smooth. no rough friction, no pinching.
you’d feel that hot agony that’s almost too much, the kind that makes your thighs clamp around his wrist even though you’re dying for him to keep going. he’d feel you clench around nothing, see your back arch off the wall, and he’d still keep that exact same rhythm, eventhough you are moving a lot. “breathe,” he’d whisper, free hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw like he’s soothing you through the torture. but he doesn’t stop, actualyl he NEVER stops when you’re like this.
jihoon would lean in then, lips brushing your ear. “you’re dripping down my wrist, feel that?” he’d let his fingers slide inside, just enough to push it all back inside you, slow and a bit shallow, barely two knuckles deep, while his thumb stays glued to your clit, still working that tiny point in the same feather-light circles. the contrast would fit perfectly; the stretch of his fingers filling you up, the maddening tease on your clit.
your knees would buckle. you’d grab his shoulders, nails digging in, trying to push him away and pull him closer at the same time. that great, curling agony would hit, making your vision blur and your breath come in pathetic little gasps. he’d feel you start to flutter around his fingers, walls pulsing, and that’s when he’d finally press just a fraction harder on your clit, still light, but enough to tip you over.
“let it happen, hm?” he’d murmur, voice so fucking calm while you’re falling apart. “i’ve got you.” and he would. he’d keep rubbing through it, drawing it out until you’re shaking, whimpering into his neck, thighs trembling so bad he has to pin you against the wall with his body so you don’t slide down.
also,, jihoon would be the absolute fucking menace when you're stuck in those tight spots, like crammed in a van on a road trip with the whole crew, or holed up in some shitty hotel room where the walls are paper-thin and your friends are giggling in the next room over. he thrives on that shit, the risk of getting caught without actually blowing the cover. he'd wait until everyone's dozing off or distracted, maybe during a late-night drive when the music's low and the highway hums under the tires, or after lights out when the only sounds are snores and muffled whispers.
he'd start subtle, always. sliding his hand over your thigh under the blanket in the back seat, fingers inching higher while he stares out the window like he's lost in thought while he is feeling you tense up because you know exactly where this is going. “relax,” he'd whisper, lips brushing your ear as he leans in like he's just adjusting his seat. his fingers would dip under your shorts or skirt or pants or idk, no rush, just tracing the seam of your panties until you're shifting, trying not to make a sound.
and here's where he gets nasty as hell, he'd never hush those wet sounds. fuck no. he'd tease you on purpose, dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting that slick that's already building because let's be real, being this close to him in secret always gets you going. he'd circle your clit lightly at first, then dip inside, curling just enough to make you clench, and that's when it starts; that obscene, creamy schlk schlk schlk every time he pumps in and out. loud enough in the quiet space that your face burns, but he fucking loves it. his eyes would flick to yours.
if you try to clamp your thighs shut to muffle it, he'd pry them back open with his free hand, shaking his head slightly. “don't,” he'd mutter, holding your gaze so you can't look away. he'd keep that rhythm going, fingers fucking into you deeper, wetter, making sure every thrust pulls out that filthy, squelching noise, like your pussy's betraying you right there in front of everybody.
and if you're traveling solo with him, he'd amp it up. pull you into his lap in the hotel bed, sheets tangled, and fuck you slow and deep, no condom because why bother. he'd grind in balls-deep, stirring his cum inside you from the last round, turning it all creamy and messy, that schlk turning into a full-on sloppy symphony.
he'd hold his moans back, biting his lip until it's white, jaw clenched tight so only these quiet, guttural grunts slip out. but if you get too loud, gasping or whimpering, his hand would clamp over your mouth firm but gentle, fingers pressing just enough to remind you. “shh, y/n,” he'd breathe, eyes locked on where he's disappearing inside you, mesmerized by the way your wetness coats him, strings of it pulling every time he draws back. the wet smacks, the creamy churn, he'd never try to drown them out. he'd slow down on purpose sometimes, pulling almost all the way out just to slam back in and make it echo louder, like he's moaning through the noise itself, each one pulling a stifled groan from his throat.
if u get ashamed, he'd eat that up. he'd see it on your face, cheeks flushed, eyes squeezing shut like you can't handle how embarrassing it is, how your body's so loud and needy, and it'd turn him on more. “look at you,” he'd whisper, free hand tilting your chin so you have to watch too, “so fucking wet for me, can't even hide it.” he'd tease you mercilessly, thumb rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts to make you gush even more, if it's a creampie situation, he'd pull out halfway through your orgasm just to watch his cum mix with yours, then push back in slow, savoring the extra gush that comes with it, like he's painting you from the inside.
jihoon would never fake like he hates it.
another thing is that i think jihoon would lose his entire fucking mind the second you drop to your knees in his studio. door locked, purple light on, beats paused mid-loop because he can’t focus anymore with you looking up at him like that. he’d be slouched in his chair, legs spread just enough, sweatpants pushed down to mid-thigh, cock already hard and leaking because you’d been teasing him for the last hour with little touches and glances while he tried to work.
your hand wrapped around him, stroking lazy and firm, thumb swiping over the tip to spread the precum. but the real shit starts when you dip lower. when you cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm, feeling how heavy and tight they are. jihoon would suck in a sharp breath through his teeth, head tipping back against the chair, eyes fluttering shut for a second like he’s trying not to come right then.
“fuck… yeah, right there,” he’d mutter, one hand sliding into your hair, fingers flexing like he needs something to ground himself. you’d lick a slow stripe up the underside of his cock, then take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, but you’d keep playing with his balls the whole time, squeezing lightly, tugging just enough to make his hips twitch, massaging them in slow circles while you bob your head.
that gets him… inspired? not just the wet heat of your mouth, though that’s already killing him. it’s the attention to his balls, the way you cradle them like they’re just as important, the soft hum you make when you feel them draw up tighter. he’d start breathing harder, little choked-off sounds slipping out despite how hard he tries to stay quiet.
sometimes he wouldn’t even let you finish him with your mouth. he’d pull you off gently, hand replacing yours on his cock, jerking himself fast and sloppy while you keep fondling his balls, pressing your lips to the sensitive skin right above them, kissing and licking while he watches you with dark, blown-out eyes. the sight of you down there, devoted, shameless, worshipping that part of him, he’d come hard, spilling over his fist and your fingers, thighs shaking, a quiet, broken “fuck” punched out of him.
after, he’d just sit there panting, staring at you like you rewired his brain. he’d pull you up into his lap, kiss you messy and grateful, muttering against your mouth, “you have no idea what you just did to my next track.” because hes somehow already hearing it in his head, som slow, filthy bassline, heavy and pulsing, inspired by the way you made him feel completely fucking owned in the best way.
also, i think jihoon isn’t the type to walk around with a mile-long list of kinks and fetishes tattooed on his brain. he doesn’t need a whole playbook of crazy shit to get off. most days, just the sight of you with hair messy, lips swollen from kissing, thighs trembling because you’re already soaked just from grinding on his lap, is more than enough to make him hard and horny!!
but the second you whisper something you’re curious about, something that makes your cheeks burn when you say it out loud, he doesn’t even blink. no judgment, no “really? that’s your thing?” he just nods once, and goes, “okay. show me what you want.”
vibrators? he’d pull one out of the drawer like he’s had it waiting, lube already on the nightstand because he’s always prepared. he’d hold it against your clit while he fucks you slow and deep, watching your face the whole time, adjusting the speed until you’re arching and whining his name. spanking? he’d flip you over his knee without a word, palm warm and heavy, starting light and building until your ass is pink and stinging and you’re dripping down your thighs. he’d rub soothing circles after every few smacks, kissing the back of your neck.
he’d try anything once if it’s something you’re into; bondage, edging, roleplay, even the weirder stuff you’re too shy to google. he’d ask questions quietly beforehand: “how hard? how long? tell me if it’s too much.” and he’d stop the second you tap out, no questions, no guilt-tripping, just pull you into his chest and holding you until your breathing evens out.
and i just know his after care is the best of the best. he’s not performative about it, he doesn’t make a whole production. he’d reach for the wet wipes he keeps right there on the nightstand, warm ones because he thought ahead and popped them in the microwave for ten seconds. he’d clean you up so gently, wiping between your thighs, your stomach, anywhere that’s sticky, while you’re still boneless and floating. if you slump right after, too fucked out to move, he’d just tuck the blanket around you, kiss your forehead, and grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. “drink a little, baby,” he’d say, voice soft, holding it to your lips until you take a few sips.
sometimes he’d even give up his own shit just to make sure you’re happy. like that one time you mentioned offhand that you hate sleeping in complete darkness because it makes you anxious; he started leaving the little desk lamp on low, even though he usually needs pitch black to crash after late nights. or when you said you get cold easy after sex, he’d pull out an extra hoodie, his favorite black one, and drape it over you before you even ask. he’d let you steal his pillow because you like the way it smells like him, even if it means he’s contorting himself around you all night.
he’d skip his usual post-sex shower if you’re clingy and just want to be held, staying sticky and sweaty with you curled against his chest. he’d even pause his music production for the night if you’re in the mood to talk or cuddle instead of him disappearing into the studio. “i can finish the track tomorrow,” he’d mumble into your hair, arms tight around you like letting go isn’t an option.
if things go riiight, jihoon would be so fucking exclusive the second he realizes he actually likes you, not just the surface-level, you’re hot and fun shit.
it wouldn’t be dramatic, no big declarations, no posting cryptic lyrics on his insta story. but hed realize with the way he stops replying to flirty dms overnight. the way his phone stays face-down when you’re around because he doesn’t want you thinking there’s anyone else pulling his attention. he’d delete dating apps without a word, not because he’s trying to prove something, but because the thought of even scrolling through them feels pointless when you’re right there.
sex with him would hit different because of that exclusivity. every time he touches you, it’s like he’s saying “this is only for you.” he’d look at you like you’re the only person in the world who’s ever made him feel this way, eyes soft but burning, hands mapping your body like he’s memorizing it for keeps. he’d whisper your name against your skin like it’s sacred, like saying it out loud is a privilege he doesn’t give anyone else. and when he’s inside you, slow and deep, holding eye contact, it’s sooo “i chose you and i’m not choosing anyone else” way.
you’d feel exclusive down to your bones. the way he remembers exactly how you like to be touched, the little spots that make you gasp, the rhythm that makes your toes curl. he’d never rush, never half-ass it, because to him, time with you is rare and precious! even if it’s quick and sneaky in the studio or the back of a car, he makes sure you come first, always, like it’s his personal mission.
and here’s the mature part that i absolutely LOVE about him; he wouldn’t pressure you for more. if you’re not ready to date date, if you just want this secret, steady thing that’s yours and his, he’d hold it for years without complaint. no guilt trips, no “what are we?” ultimatums. hed just keep showing up the same way he was from the very beginning, reliable, attentive, exclusive. texting you goodnight even if he’s halfway across the world on tour. sending you random voice notes of beats he made that remind him of you. slipping into your bed at 3am after a long day, wrapping around you without needing to talk about it. it’d be this unspoken agreement that you’re each other’s safe place, no labels required.
but if one day you decide you do want more? if you look at him across the room and think “fuck, i want this for real”? he’d try. god, he’d try so hard. he’d sit you down, quiet and serious, and say “i’ve been waiting for you to be ready. if you want this, i’m all in.” and it would be awesome. he’d be the boyfriend who plans lowkey dates that feel like home; late-night drives, studio sessions where you fall asleep on his couch, cooking together at 2am because neither of you can sleep. he’d hold your hand in public without hesitation, introduce you to his family like you’ve always been there, make space in his life like you were always meant to fit.
either way…whether it stays this beautiful, mature, exclusive secret for years, or turns into something official, he\d make you feel chosen. every. single. day.
WARNINGS: +18, smut, (oral f. & m.), throat fucking, penetrative sex, mentions of body fluids (cum, spit)
after that night, for all the times you’d wanted to text him, your ego kept its foot firmly on the brake. if jihoon thought you’d just come crawling back after his little remark, he was dead wrong. it didn’t matter how much your body craved another taste of him; no way were you about to give him that satisfaction. besides, it wasn’t like you were the only one who enjoyed that night, despite his attitude. if he wanted it again, HE’d have to come to you.
over the next week, every hallway encounter was a battle of wills. you’d pass by him with your friends, glancing away just slightly so you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze. and while your friends couldn’t help but notice the way jihoon’s friends looked at you as you walked by—waiting for the smirk you always used to throw his way—you’d hold your chin up and act like he didn’t even exist.
the whispers had started up again, too. after all, you and jihoon had been seen together plenty at the start of the semester, supposedly “studying” for a class you knew you didn’t even share. his friends had even toasted him over some rumor that tutoring wasn’t the only “learning” happening during those sessions. and now? they watched you like they were trying to figure out if you’d switched interests, especially when they saw you walking through campus with someone else’s arm casually slung over your shoulder. jihoon’s friends wore confused expressions, and if jihoon himself noticed…well, he didn’t give a single clue.
but it was getting harder to ignore it. especially tonight.
it was 9 pm, and you were dressed and ready for a night at the local bar, hoping a little drink and dance would be enough to take your mind off him completely. heading out, you made the mistake of cutting through his dorm hall, almost jogging to keep the tension from catching up with you. maybe he’d be out. or maybe he was too busy doing something else. you didn’t care. but as you neared the end of the hallway, a hand caught your arm, yanking you backward so quickly that you stumbled.
before you could react, you found yourself inside a dorm room, the familiar smell already cluing you in to where you were before you could fully process it. jihoon’s hand was still around your arm, the dorm was silent, the noise of the hall muffled as the door clicked shut behind you.
“where are you running off to, dressed like that?”
your pulse was racing, but you gave him a steady look, shrugging your arm free of his grip. “does it matter?” you smirked, turning as if to open the door, only to feel him step even closer behind you, blocking the way.
“what’s wrong with you?” you ask, crossing your arms.
you knew you had his attention, and now, for whatever reason, it looked like he couldn’t hold back anymore. jihoon opens his mouth like he’s about to answer, but he bites his tongue, his gaze dropping to the side as if the walls would have a solution for him.
“what’s wrong with me?” he finally retorts, jaw tense. “you had to ignore me that hard in front of my friends? couldn’t even throw a glance my way?”
you let out a genuine laugh. “weren’t you the one who told me not to reach out to you unless i wanted a ‘good fuck’? well, sorry, but didn’t seem worth it.”
his eyes flash. “really? ‘cause you seemed pretty into it at the time,” he counters, almost daring you to deny it.
“maybe i was.” you shrug. “but maybe i got over it.”
jihoon’s jaw clenches, and he takes a half step forward, closing the space separating you. “over it? you think you can just get over it that easy?”
“why not?”
he lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “you’re full of it. bet you thought about that night as much as i did. don’t. lie.”
your heart races, but you lift your chin defiantly. “if i’m full of it, then so are you, mr. i-don’t-need-anyone-reachin’-out-to-me. didn’t think you’d care if i ignored you. you’re all talk jihoon.” you tease, looking up at him, daring him to prove you wrong.
“all talk?” he scoffs, his mouth inches from yours, but he doesn’t close the gap. “maybe you need a reminder of how ‘not worth it’ i was.”
before you can reply, his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, pulling you close as his other hand tilts your chin up. his lips brush against yours in the faintest tease of a kiss before he pulls back, just enough to keep you wanting.
you let out a frustrated huff, trying to close the distance, but he holds you in place, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face. “not so fast... you wanted this, didn’t you?”
“you know i did.”
“so admit it... admit you wanted me to come after you.”
your pride fights to hold out, but the way his fingers dig into your ass meat, the way his voice drops just for you, it’s impossible to resist. “fine,” you whisper back. “i wanted you to come after me.”
he’s leaning in, lips parted, ready to crash into yours finally when your hand presses against his chest. he freezes, eyes flicking up to yours, searching. “bad boys don't get kissed.” you mock, savoring the way his expression falters.
he recognizes that phrase. he opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but he just closes his eyes, breathing out a low exhale through his nose, clearly biting back his response.
but the fury in his eyes returns, darker, and without a word, his hand slides up to the back of your neck, pulling you down with a grip that tells you exactly where this is going.
you let him guide you onto your knees.
“fine,” he mutters, voices gravelly, fingers grazing your jaw. “don’t need your kiss, anyway. got a better idea.”
his thumb drags along your lower lip, pressing until you open your mouth for him, and he can’t hide the hungry look that flashes across his face.
“this mouth of yours,” he mutters, thumb slipping between your lips. “always running it, always pushing me.” he watches intently as you take him in, tongue curling around his thumb, obedient despite the defiance in your eyes. “bet you’ll think twice about mouthing off when you’re choking on my cock.”
he undoes his shorts string, sliding it off, and before you know it, he’s pushing the fabric down just enough to free himself, his cock standing hard, thick and flushed in front of you.
he strokes himself slowly, dragging his length along your lips, smearing precum over them like lipgloss as he says, “you tap my thigh if you need a breath, got it?”
you nod, mouth already watering as you part your lips wider, letting him guide himself between them. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the sharp tug, and then he starts pushing forward, filling your mouth inch by inch until he’s pressing against the back of your throat.
he doesn’t ease up. he moves faster, driving deeper until he’s hitting that spot that makes your throat clench around him, your eyes watering instantly. spit starts to collect at the corners of your mouth, sliding down your chin as he pulls back only to push in again, even deeper this time, his cock stretching your throat wide, demanding every inch of space.
“all that attitude… gone.” his hand tightens in your hair, holding you still as he starts thrusting with a rough rhythm, hips snapping forward. “bet you’d do anything to prove me wrong now, wouldn’t you?”
he’s relentless, each thrust pressing your mouth and throat to their limits, your gag reflex triggered with every push. you feel spit pooling, slipping past your lips as you struggle to keep up with him, swallowing around his length even as he reaches deeper, his cock twitching at the tight, involuntary clenches of your throat.
you’re practically dripping, reduced to whimpers and gasps as he fucks your mouth, his hips rolling forward again and again, no space left for anything but him. when he pulls back for a second, a trail of spit stretches between your lips and the head of his cock, and he groans, wiping the mess over your cheek before plunging in again, going even harder.
“so pretty like this,” he mutters, watching as your eyes grow wetter, each thrust forcing a new wave of spit down your chin and neck, over his thighs. your fingers gripping his thighs for balance, and he smirks, giving a particularly sharp thrust that has you choking, throat convulsing as a line of spit drips down your chin. “that’s right. take it all.”
he starts slowing, grinding his hips forward, keeping himself pressed deep as he lets out a low groan, feeling the way you tremble. and then he thrusts one last time, deeper than before, pushing himself right to the base. he lets out a ragged breath as he stills, his cock twitching as you feel him tense, holding himself there, filling your throat as he spills into you, viscous and hot.
you swallow as best as you can, the bitter taste coating your tongue, but he doesn’t let you pull back right away.
you let the fullness press down on your throat until the edges of your vision begin to blur, the air thinning, everything swimming. you tap his thigh rapidly, a faint, desperate plea, and just as your lungs burn hottest, he releases, pulling you back with a hand steadying your shoulder. you slump onto your heels, shoulders sagging as you gulp down air, your head swimming with the remnants of his hold on you.
his hands stay firm on your shoulders, keeping you steady as you breathe, your throat aches, stretched and raw, the sting of his rough pace lingering with every shallow gulp.
as he maneuvers you onto the bed, his hands slide down impatiently and your dress and panties are gone all in once. he pauses for a moment, taking you in, his gaze raking over the sight of your swollen lips and sultry eyes, glazed with that barely-there smirk.
he cant do this right now.
he grips your arm, twisting you to fall chest-first onto the mattress, hips lifted up as his arm curls around you.
“you—” you scoff, voice raspy, “can’t you fuck me while looking at my face?”
he lets out a low laugh, leaning close to your ear as his hand slides down your back. “oh, i think you’ve had enough of my face for tonight… plus, i think you look even better like this—bent over and whining.”
you couldnt even have a second to roll your eyes, a comeback on the tip of your tongue, but he’s already there, pressing into you suddenly, stretching your pussy in one hard, unrelenting thrust that punches the breath right out of your lungs. a cry rips from you, loud and hoarse, and you brace yourself against the mattress, fingers twisting into the sheets as your whole body shakes.
"that shut you up?” he breathes, hands digging into your hips as he sets a bruising pace. you can’t even catch your breath, every thrust leaving you reeling, gasping for air. tears prick at your eyes, spilling over as he hits that spot, so precise it’s maddening.
“fuck—s-so deep—” you choke out, incoherent as you press your cheek to the sheets, gripping the fabric so hard your knuckles ache. his fingers dig into the meat of your hips, pulling you back to meet every thrust, his balls slapping your clit making you convulse with everythrust.
“thought you wanted this, yeah?” he taunts, leaning down. “thought you liked it rough. what, too much for you now?”
“n-no—” you manage, though the word comes out in a broken sob, your voice betraying you. he’s unrelenting, snapping his hips forward with every word, and you can feel yourself falling apart, the way he’s not holding anything back. it’s dizzying and yet you can’t help but crave it, want more, need more.
“thought you could handle it, acting all cocky,” he sneers, giving your ass a hard smack that makes you jolt, a fresh tide of tears spilling down your cheeks.“crying for it. pathetic.”
you let out a choked, breathless sob, the humiliation only heightening the need simmering inside you. “p-please…” you whimper, unable to do anything but plead as he keeps driving into you.
“oh, now you’re begging?” he laughs. “all that attitude, all that talk, and now you’re nothing but a crying mess on my bed.”
another broken cry slips out of you, and he chuckles. his hands trail down your spine, his fingers digging into your skin, grounding you, steadying you in the haze.
“you’re so fucking pretty like this,” he coos. “all desperate… should’ve known you’d like it this way.”
you can’t respond, can’t do anything but let out a helpless, broken cry, body arching, straining against him as you feel your orgasm approaching. and even then, he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, keeping you there.
“you thought you could come in here all high and mighty that night.. now look where that got you.”
“shut up,” you manage to gasp as he snaps his hips harder, the sound echoing in the small space. “you’re—” another thrust cuts you off, drawing another whimper from your throat.
“i’m what? too rough for you? too much for that little mouth of yours? you’ve got no problem talking back when you’re not getting fucked, huh?”
“i said shut up!” you cry out, though your voice is shaky, betraying you. “you’re just—oh my god—”
“just what?”
“i hate you,” you whimper, even as your body betrays you, arching into him, chasing that sweet friction.
he can hear the contradiction.
“sure you do,” he laughs softly, his breath warm against your skin.
the moment you squeeze him harder, makes him wince, his cock feels so sensitive, after that last mind-blowing orgasm, and he can’t help but throw his head back, his breath hitching in his throat as he fights to control himself.
you’re lost in your own world, eyes shut tight as you cling to him, and he uses that to his advantage. with a smirk curling on his lips, he pulls out slowly, relishing the way your body protests against the emptiness.
“n-no, jihoon!” you whine, instinctively reaching for him. you grab his hand from behind your back, intertwining your fingers with his, a silent plea not to tease you anymore.
“c’mon, jihoon, just stop teasing me already.” you push your ass against his hips, a cheeky slap echoing in the room.
he would be lying if he says it doesn’t turn him on, when your existence is enough to make his blood run hot. as he lowers himself behind you, he can’t help but watch the way your pussy clenchesaround nothing, how your curves seem to invite him in.
he leans in, letting his breath ghost over your skin before he dives in, his tongue swirling around your dripping pussy. you cry all cute on his sheets, like his tongue was a sweet and massaging reward after he destroyed your cunt with his thick lenght.
he lets your clit rest under his tongue as he dives the tip of the wet, pinky muscle, between your folds. just to flick the tongue down again and take the throbbing nerve inside his mouth, making you sob.
his tongue dances across your folds, the slickness of your cum coating him. his mouth is warm and inviting, eager haven as he drinks you in. he alternates between languid licks that tease your puffy lips and insistent flicks that make you roll your eyes.
your hands tangle in his hair from behind, pulling him closer as you urge him on, the silky strands slipping through your fingers. his fingers tighten around your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he plunges his tongue deeper, swirling it around inside you.
your body is a symphony of slickness, the remnants of your cum coating his chin and the skin around his mouth. he dives back in, tongue swirling around your entrance, licking up every drop of your honey before turning his attention back to your clit.
“i’m so close, jihoon,” you whimper. “that's it!”
he responds by sucking your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his fingers push into you, the pressure of them stretching you just right.
as if on cue, you feel that big hot bubble in your lower belly snap, you cry out, each pulse of the orgasm making you tighter around his fingers.
jihoon couldn't shake the feeling of unease as he watched you get up from his bed, your movements quiet and subdued after your intense orgasm. the post-orgasm glow faded too quickly.
“where do you think you’re going?” he asked as he pulled you back down onto the bed. you landed softly, your eyes wide and innocent as you frowned at him.
“i’m… leaving?” you said, trying to keep your tone light.
he exhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he fought against the frustration. “you’re only saying that because of how i made you leave the last time, aren’t you?”
you shifted slightly, looking away as if the truth was too difficult to face. “maybe..” you admitted softly, and that single word made his heart sink.
“i’m sorry about that,” he said, sincerity lacing his tone. “i miss those tutoring classes, you know? i didn't mean to push you away like that. it’s just… i think—”
“you think?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. “you told me not to come after you unless i wanted a good fuck. not very delicate.”
“that was a mistake,” he insisted, as he searched your eyes. “i didn’t think it would end up like this. i thought we were just messing around.” he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. “but i want more than that. i like having you around.”
you looked at him, your expression softening just a little. “so, what? you want to tutor me again? pretend like we didn’t just…” you trailed off.
“no,” he replied firmly. “i want to be honest with you. i want you to want me, not just as a way to fill some need… just like i want you.” he paused, gathering his thoughts.
“so you’re just going to keep me here, like this?” you asked, tilting your head.
“if you’ll let me,” he replied. “just stay.”
“you really think it’s that easy? just because we had one good round?”
“it’s not just about the sex,” he said, getting nearer. “i want to explore more than that, but only if you’re willing.”
“and if i’m not?” you asked.
“then i guess i’ll have to work a little harder to change your mind,” he teased lightly.
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your lips. “good luck with that, jihoon. i’m not that easy.”
“i never thought you were,” he smirked, leaning closer. “but i’m willing to put in the effort. so, what’s it gonna be?”
you bit your lip, “maybe i’ll stick around for a little while longer,” you replied, leaning back into the bed with a teasing smile.
but it's been so long since ive seen anything about the boys. what’s been going on? what’s on your mind, guys? TELL ME EVERYTHING
AND of course, I can't leave you guys without answers regarding my disappearance (I'm sorry for not warning yall), but I got a promotion at work in this FY26 and I HONESTLY didn't know that leading an entire team would take me so by surprise.
I had a burnout and lost a few pounds, and maybe MAYBE ive started to smoke (cigars, cigarettes, strawberry and kiwi Ignite???? hookah). but i recovered from the burn out, don’t worry 🤍
BUT GOOD NEWS TOO!!!! I got engaged! And he's a sweetheart, so we’re still in the phase where we're so in love that we're inseparable, not even for a second (at least we try) — mainly balancing my work with a husby ... my routine never got this productive actually hahahaha
but i’m really planning to come back, to write again, so talk with you all! my mind is full of ideas (mainly after i started to LIVE LAUGH LOVE) but i’ll need to learn again how to write tbh 😭😭😭
so pls guys chat with meeee, how are youuu? which ideais have been crossing ur mind during this lila’s hiatus? hm?
