GENRE/CW: smut, angst, porn with little plot, exes to (?), non idol au, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, cunnilingus, lowkey obsessive sunghoon, yearner hoon.
WORD COUNT: 4111 words.
SYNOPSIS: You told yourself that it will just be one night, and Sunghoon makes sure you feel every possessive second of it.
A/N: hihi loves <3 hope you enjoy this lil fic <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <3
Sunghoon took in a wanton breath, eyes drifting close.
Auditory hallucination is a symptom of schizophrenia. Was Hoon schizophrenic? He knows for a fact that he isn’t, he’s merely a man in love who’s so utterly besotted, so carnally desperate to be basked in your scent—he starts imagining things, repeating them in mind till every cell within his body becomes aware of your presence in your absence.
“Why did you leave me?” He rasped, unblinking at the ceiling.
Don’t you know why, Hoonie?
“Because I love you more than life?” His voice was hoarse, two pools of watercolour staring into the abyss—he felt that void in his chest.
Because you love too hard.
“I can’t control it, can’t control myself when it’s you,”
We’re not together anymore, Hoonie.
That can’t be true, no no no, he saw you a few days back, you were right here, in his arms—just how it should be. Not together? He can’t touch you anymore? Kiss you? Love you?
Sunghoon can’t breathe.
One thing is to love someone, the other is to surrender your whole essence of being for them.
He’s well aware how unhealthy his coping mechanisms are, but he doesn’t care when it gives him a glimpse of what you could’ve been. It’s Pavalovian in the sense you came into his life, touched the very soul residing within him every single day, and now he can’t breathe without breathing you in.
It’s not that he doesn’t try, he really does. Losing himself in hours of painting, only for your portrait to stare back at him. Plenty hours of listening to music, only for the shuffle to land on your favourite song. Letting his friends drag him to parties, only for him to find someone clad in the exact dress you owned.
You were everywhere. In every corner of his apartment, in every love song he’d heard, in every dream he dreamt of. And he followed you blindly, like a moth to a flame. Perhaps he was obsessive in the way he managed to make everything about you, but that’s what love does to a person, right? Right?
With a shaky breath, he managed to sit up, trying to find more air, probably the essence of you, but it was hard when you’d left without any physical trace left behind that could’ve comforted Hoon. So, he resorted to drinking water, gripping the obsidian kitchen counter to stabilize himself to some extent.
He pressed the cold bottle against his neck, a chill running down his spine almost like the ghost of your fingertips once tracing the same path in lazy, possessive spirals. The sudden frost bloomed across his overheated flesh like winter’s cruel caress, yet it only served to heighten the molten ache smoldering deeper, where his heart thrashed against the cage of his ribs in rebellion.
“Y/N,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut tighter with no concept of time left within him. He doesn’t remember how long he’d been standing, the water had turned warm in his hold. He chuckled, heartbreak had a way to scramble memory.
The shrill sound of the doorbell successfully broke his state of trance.
He stared at the wood for a few seconds, heart thumping, a little hopeful to see your face again, to cradle it with such warmth that you’d never leave again, never leave him again. His steps were fast, almost frantic in the way he yanked the door open.
Was he actually daydreaming or were you truly standing in front of him, wearing the same sweatshirt you stole from him? His eyes should have shown concern about your kid eyes, trembling hands, quivering lips, but all he felt was joy.
You were here, you needed him. He thanked whatever or whoever caused you this pain that you ended up right in front of him to seek some sort of comfort. As toxic as it is, Sunghoon truly doesn’t care as long as he’s the one who’d come back to.
Regardless, he had to be sure, so he took a step forward, hand raising up to cup your cheek with the same tenderness he’d always had towards you. The touch felt real, the warmth of your body gave that away. You allowed it, wrapping your own hand on top of his.
Fucking hell, you were real and right with him.
“Oh my god,” he surrendered, pulling you by your nape to be crushed into a hug that spoke more than any words could.
“Sunghoon,” your voice came out muffled against him, which only made him hold you tighter, possessive and consuming in a way no one could, only Hoon made you feel that way—wanted beyond existence. You could hear his heartbeat, remembering how Sunghoon had sworn it beat only for you.
Sunghoon found you melting in his arms with such vulnerability he was dying to see, molded against the unyielding plane of his chest as if the universe itself had realigned its constellations to deliver this singular mercy.
“What’s wrong, my love?” He asked, lips brushing the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, greedy for the scent of your hair, “tell me, baby. I need to know who hurt you so I can fix it.”
You could only shake your head as a reply, peering up to look into his obsidian eyes, “just make me forget.”
Sunghoon would do that—make you forget every second you’d spent apart, every breath you’d taken without one another. He swears you’d only remember one thing, one person, and that’s him.
His hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he tilted your face up to his, “you trust me?”
He was close, tracing every bit of your face with his eyes, lips parted, brushing against yours. You barely managed a nod, but it was enough. It was everything.
A shattered exhale escaped him before he closed the infinitesimal distance. His mouth descended upon yours like a prayer finally answered after endless exile, devastatingly tender, as though he feared you might dissolve into memory again. But tenderness ignited into desperation. His lips claimed yours with a hunger forged in months of torment, tongue tracing the seam of your mouth before delving deeper, tasting the salt of your sorrow and the sweet, forbidden promise of reunion.
He kissed you as if he could devour the distance you had carved between you, as if every stroke of his tongue could unravel the cruel threads of time that had kept you apart. A faint taste of salt made him part for a second, tongue tracing the tear that cascaded down the apple of your cheek.
Good lord. You felt guilty—guilty of blaming him for the extent of his love, for his insanity, possessiveness. You’d told him you felt trapped, completely disregarding how safe this trap made you feel. And Sunghoon? He felt a sick sense of satisfaction knowing exactly what effect he had on you.
A loud gasp leaves your lips as Hoon grinds forward, “touch me,” you mumbled, letting him press fervent open mouthed kisses over your jaw.
“More, hm?” He asks, enjoying your pathetic whine when he circles over your nipple through the fabric, his free hand caressing the skin where your top rode up.
It was barely a touch, making you push against him for more contact, “don’t tease, Hoonie.”
A sound of his tongue clicking made you look up with teary eyes, “can’t tease you now? When you left me here for months,” he chuckles, the sound vibrating against the delicate skin of your throat before his mouth claimed yours again in a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. His hand slid beneath the hem of your top with deliberate slowness, fingertips skating over your stomach, tracing the subtle ridges of your ribs as if memorizing every inch he had been denied. The possessiveness in his touch was unmistakable—each press of his palm anchoring you closer, as though the very air between you was an affront he refused to tolerate.
“Months,” he murmured against your lips, the word laced with a husky edge, “do you have any idea what that does to a man, sweetheart? Waking up to silence where your laugh should be. Coming home to sheets that still smell like you, but no warmth beside me.” His teeth grazed your lower lip, tugging gently before soothing it with his tongue, “but you’re back now, all mine, hm?”
You drew a shaky breath, your fingers threading through the dark strands at his nape, holding him there as much as he held you. “I thought—i thought giving you space would fix things,” you whispered, voice cracking with the weight of it. Your free hand slipped under his shirt, palm flattening against the firm warmth of his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles tensed and jumped beneath your touch. “You were everywhere, Hoon. Calling, showing up, making sure no one else could even look at me too long. I felt like I was drowning in you. But god, the second I left, it felt wrong. Empty.”
Sunghoon pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze burning with that sharp, unrelenting intensity. His thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, then traced your jaw as if he couldn’t bear even that small distance. “Empty,” he echoed, the word tasting bitter on his tongue.
“But the truth is, no one else has ever made me feel this wanted, this seen.” His breath hitched at your admission. Without warning, he hooked an arm beneath your knees and lifted you effortlessly, carrying you down the hallway with long, purposeful strides. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and the motion pressed your core flush against the evident hardness straining in his pants. He didn’t stop kissing you, until he nudged open the door to his room, making sure you’d be right where he wanted—on his bed.
He breathed hard, nose nudging your cheek, his brows furrowed as he took your scent in, “pretty, so fucking pretty,” he found himself groaning, “you’re the only one for me, I’d die alone if it’s not you.”
He gripped your chin again, hot breaths mingling, tips of noses brushing, “you’re mine,” he whispered in a tone that showed it wasn’t a choice but a fact.
Even in this position, you could see how perfectly you fit together with each other. Sunghoon used to call you both puzzle pieces—separated, only to be put back together, that you belonged together no matter what.
“We can’t keep going back and forth,” you found yourself saying, despite the situation, your voice fractured by the slow, deliberate drag of his fingers between your thighs. Sunghoon’s laugh was wild.
“Yeah? Why are you here then? Want me to make you forget shit, huh? How will you forget me, darling?” His fingers unbuttoned your jeans, hand fitting inside snugly as his fingers dragged around your cunt, underneath your panties, “c’mon, tell me,” he urged, two fingers entering you stroking that devastating spot with practiced precision while his thumb circled your swollen clit in tight, unrelenting spirals. The wet, obscene sounds of his movements filled the dim room, mingling with your ragged breaths.
A broken moan slipped from your lips as he added a third finger, stretching you open with a delicious burn that made your hips buck against his palm. You gripped his shoulders, nails biting into the taut muscle, trying to ground yourself, “I—I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, voice trembling as pleasure coiled tighter in your core, “every fucking time I try to walk away, it feels like I’m tearing something vital out of myself, it scares me how much I need you.”
He didn’t speed up, instead, he slowed his fingers to a torturous rhythm, dragging them out almost completely before sinking back in, curling and scissoring with expert care. His free hand slid up your body, getting rid of the top in his way, mapping every curve as if reaffirming ownership, thumb brushing over your nipple before he leaned down to capture it between his lips, sucking hard enough to make your back arch clean off the sheets.
“You think it doesn’t scare me?” He murmured against your damp skin, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with his tongue. He lifted his head, forehead resting against yours, sharing every heated exhale, “the thought of you with anyone else makes me want to chain you to this bed and remind you exactly who you belong to?”
It felt good, too good to be true. For Sunghoon, you were his red—a pretty, burning red, a fire which consumed him like no other. Red is also the colour of love, supposedly, but for him it’s the colour of obsession. You, on the other hand, saw blue in him, deep marine blue which provides you solace, the cold which wraps around you, so heavy you end up drowning and drowning until the last breath you take belongs to the blue, and Sunghoon is that blue.
“Chain me?” You breathed, voice catching as his fingers curled again, “you’re fucking crazy, you know that?”
“Try me, i can do much worse,” he whispered hotly, lips brushing yours. His thumb pressed firmer against your clit, rubbing slow, slick circles while two fingers pumped steadily, “one word from you and I’ll bolt the door. No more nights wondering if you’re letting someone else see this pretty pussy.”
His depravity, that tone, it always worked in his favour, making you clench around nothing with a desperation only he managed to bring out of you. He had ruined you for others, “don’t stop.”
“Hm, look at me,” he groaned, pumping faster.
Your eyes met his, dark and so full of everything he was holding back, “yeah.”
“Good girl,” he chuckled, “you feel how tight you are? How perfectly you take me? This cunt was made for me. Say you missed it.”
“I missed it,” you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps, “missed your hands, your mouth—everything. Happy now?”
“Not even close.” He kissed down your body with single-minded hunger, teeth scraping your ribs, tongue dipping into your navel. His fingers never faltered, keeping you right on the edge. When he finally settled between your spread thighs, he stared at your soaked core like a man starved.
“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, voice low and rough. His hands moved with purpose, hooking into the waistband of your jeans and the lace beneath. “Lift your hips for me, baby.” You obeyed without thinking, and he peeled the denim and panties down your legs in one smooth motion, tossing them somewhere behind him into the shadows of the room. Cool air kissed your bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze.
His fingers returned immediately, sliding back through your slick folds before pushing inside again—three this time, stretching you open with that perfect, familiar burn. “There we go. No more barriers, just you and me.”
You let out a shaky breath, one hand reaching down to thread through his dark hair, “stop staring.”
“No one else gets to stare, only me,” he said simply, almost conversationally, as if discussing the weather while his fingers curled lazily inside you, stroking that sensitive spot with devastating patience. He leaned in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another higher up, “I thought about this every night. The way you taste. The little sounds you make when I do this—” He pumped his fingers deeper, earning a gasp from you. “Missed the way your legs shake. Missed arguing with you over stupid shit and then ending up right here.”
A breathless laugh escaped you, quickly turning into a moan as his thumb brushed your clit, “fuck—the fights turned you on? You like fucking me like this?”
“Especially like this,” he answered, nipping gently at your other thigh. His free hand smoothed up your stomach, “fighting with you means you still care enough to yell back, means you’re still mine.”
He dragged his tongue slowly up your center, savoring every inch, a deep groan rumbling against your core, “so sweet,” he whispered, almost to himself, before focusing on your clit—circling it with the flat of his tongue, then flicking the tip in quick, precise strokes while his fingers kept their steady rhythm inside you.
“Hoon—oh god,” you moaned, hips twitching. He pressed his forearm across your lower belly, holding you down gently but firmly.
“Easy,” he murmured against your folds, the vibration sending sparks through you, “I’ve got you. Just let me take care of you.” He sucked your clit between his lips, gentle at first, then with more pressure, alternating with long, languid licks that had your toes curling into the sheets.
Your fingers tightened in his hair, “you’re crazy, the way you act like you can’t get enough.”
He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny, eyes flicking up to meet yours, “because I can’t.” Another slow drag of his tongue. “You think I could ever get enough of this? Of you telling me about your day while I’m between your legs?” He curled his fingers again, smiling faintly when you whimpered, “or how you always steal my hoodies and pretend you don’t. I notice everything, you know.”
“Creep,” you teased weakly, voice breaking into a gasp as he dove back in, tongue working faster, more insistently. The wet sounds of his mouth and fingers filled the room, obscene and intimate all at once.
“Your creep,” he corrected between licks, voice muffled but warm. He scissored his fingers, stretching you wider, then sealed his lips around your clit and sucked harder, humming with satisfaction when your thighs started trembling around his head, “c’mon talk to me, baby. Tell me what you need.”
“Faster—your tongue, right there,” you panted, grinding against his face despite his hold, “and don’t stop the fingers. Please, Hoonie, I’m so close.”
He obliged instantly, fingers thrusting deeper, quicker, while his tongue flicked and swirled with relentless devotion. One hand slid up to intertwine with yours, squeezing tight—an anchor amid the storm he was creating.
“That’s it,” he praised softly against your slick skin. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come apart. Been dreaming about this for months.” His words, the heat of his breath, the perfect pressure of his mouth and fingers—it all crashed over you at once.
Your back arched sharply, a broken cry of his name spilling from your lips as the orgasm tore through you. He didn’t stop, licking you through every wave, drawing it out until you were shaking and oversensitive, whispering soft praises between gentle kisses to your thighs and core.
When you finally caught your breath, he rested his cheek against your inner thigh, looking up at you with that dark, unwavering intensity—content, obsessed, and utterly unwilling to let this moment end.
“Still with me?” He asked quietly, pressing a kiss to your hip, fingers tracing idle circles on your thigh.
“Barely,” you breathed, still trembling.
Sunghoon moved up your body with slow deliberation, dropping soft kisses along the way—your stomach, the valley between your breasts, the hollow of your throat, until his lips found yours. The kiss was deep and unhurried, full of quiet hunger, yet he rushed to take off every bit of clothing he had on him. He rolled onto his back, pulling you over him so you straddled his hips, his hands settling warmly on your thighs.
“Take me like this,” he said softly, his cock rested hard and heavy between you, waiting, “I want to feel every move you make.”
You braced your hands on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and slowly sank down onto him, moaning with how it took you a while to accommodate his size, and Sunghoon swore it was the prettiest sight ever. The stretch was exquisite, drawing matching sighs from both of you as he filled you completely. For a moment, you simply sat there, savoring the fullness, your bodies perfectly joined.
“F—feel so good, Hoonie,” you whispered, beginning to rock your hips in a gentle rhythm. The slide of him inside you sent warm sparks through your veins.
Sunghoon’s hands roamed your body with quiet reverence—one sliding up your side to cup your breast, the other gripping your hip to guide your movements. His eyes stayed locked on your face, drinking in every flutter of your lashes and parting of your lips. “That’s it, just like that,” he murmured. “God, I missed seeing you like this. Missed the way you look when you’re lost in it.”
You leaned forward slightly, changing the angle, and let out a soft moan as pleasure built in slow, rolling waves, “I missed you too,” you admitted, pace quickening a little, breath growing uneven, “It’s always been different with you.”
He sat up to meet you, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer, chest to chest. His hips rolled up to match your rhythm, thrusting deeper while his free hand cradled the back of your neck. “Then don’t leave again,” he whispered against your mouth, the words slipping out between kisses, “I can’t fucking function without you.”
The confession hovered on your tongue, too big to hold back. “Hoon, I—” You faltered, burying your face in his neck as the pleasure intensified.
“Say it,” he coaxed gently, slowing your movements with his hands, making you feel every thick inch of him, “you don’t get to hide it from me.”
“I shouldn’t,” you resisted, but his grip turned vice.
“Shh, just say it, be good,” he urged further.
You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, heart pounding, “I love you,” you breathed, the words trembling but certain, “I love you, Sunghoon.”
Something raw flashed across his face. In one fluid motion, he flipped you beneath him, never once slipping free. Now on your back, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he settled between them, pressing you into the mattress with his weight. The new position felt even more intimate—his body covering yours completely, eyes never leaving your face as he began to thrust in long, deep strokes.
“I love you too,” he said against your lips, the words punctuated by the slow drag of his hips, “so much it drives me crazy sometimes.” His rhythm built gradually, powerful but controlled, one hand laced with yours beside your head while the other stroked your thigh, “you’re everything. I don’t want to waste any more time apart.”
You moaned softly, arching into him, nails tracing down his back. The pleasure coiled tighter with every thrust, every shared breath, every whispered word.
“I love you,” he groaned again, chanting it together with you as if it would undo every fight, every single moment you’d spent apart.
When release finally found you both, it washed over you in warm, shuddering waves. You clenched around him as he groaned your name, spilling deep inside you, hips stuttering before he stilled.
For a long while afterward, he stayed buried inside you, simply holding you close. Eventually, he pulled out gently and rolled to the side, tugging you into his arms. Your legs tangled with his, your head resting on his chest as his fingers combed slowly through your hair. The room was quiet except for the soft sound of your breathing.
“Stay right here with me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you like he never planned to let go, “we’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.”
You complied, not having an ounce of strength to fight or disagree. This could easily be the best you’d felt in the past few months, and sleep came easily when Sunghoon traced patterns over your body, when he got up only to clean you and shower you with kisses. No one could provide you the warmth he provided you with.
Sunghoon was sure he’d have a perfect morning, only, he woke up to an empty bed, the sheets beside him already cold and lifeless. The absence hit like a blade between his ribs. He sat up sharply, dark eyes wild, chest heaving as the void rushed back in.
His hand fisted the pillow where your head had rested, inhaling the fading trace of your scent like a man drowning. After the confessions, the way you had shattered so beautifully beneath him, the way you had promised with every trembling touch.
“You left me again,” he gasped in hopes of finding air. The warmth lingered as a promise.
GENRE/CW: smut, angst, porn with little plot, exes to (?), non idol au, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, cunnilingus, lowkey obsessive sunghoon, yearner hoon.
WORD COUNT: 4111 words.
SYNOPSIS: You told yourself that it will just be one night, and Sunghoon makes sure you feel every possessive second of it.
A/N: hihi loves <3 hope you enjoy this lil fic <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <3
Sunghoon took in a wanton breath, eyes drifting close.
Auditory hallucination is a symptom of schizophrenia. Was Hoon schizophrenic? He knows for a fact that he isn’t, he’s merely a man in love who’s so utterly besotted, so carnally desperate to be basked in your scent—he starts imagining things, repeating them in mind till every cell within his body becomes aware of your presence in your absence.
“Why did you leave me?” He rasped, unblinking at the ceiling.
Don’t you know why, Hoonie?
“Because I love you more than life?” His voice was hoarse, two pools of watercolour staring into the abyss—he felt that void in his chest.
Because you love too hard.
“I can’t control it, can’t control myself when it’s you,”
We’re not together anymore, Hoonie.
That can’t be true, no no no, he saw you a few days back, you were right here, in his arms—just how it should be. Not together? He can’t touch you anymore? Kiss you? Love you?
Sunghoon can’t breathe.
One thing is to love someone, the other is to surrender your whole essence of being for them.
He’s well aware how unhealthy his coping mechanisms are, but he doesn’t care when it gives him a glimpse of what you could’ve been. It’s Pavalovian in the sense you came into his life, touched the very soul residing within him every single day, and now he can’t breathe without breathing you in.
It’s not that he doesn’t try, he really does. Losing himself in hours of painting, only for your portrait to stare back at him. Plenty hours of listening to music, only for the shuffle to land on your favourite song. Letting his friends drag him to parties, only for him to find someone clad in the exact dress you owned.
You were everywhere. In every corner of his apartment, in every love song he’d heard, in every dream he dreamt of. And he followed you blindly, like a moth to a flame. Perhaps he was obsessive in the way he managed to make everything about you, but that’s what love does to a person, right? Right?
With a shaky breath, he managed to sit up, trying to find more air, probably the essence of you, but it was hard when you’d left without any physical trace left behind that could’ve comforted Hoon. So, he resorted to drinking water, gripping the obsidian kitchen counter to stabilize himself to some extent.
He pressed the cold bottle against his neck, a chill running down his spine almost like the ghost of your fingertips once tracing the same path in lazy, possessive spirals. The sudden frost bloomed across his overheated flesh like winter’s cruel caress, yet it only served to heighten the molten ache smoldering deeper, where his heart thrashed against the cage of his ribs in rebellion.
“Y/N,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut tighter with no concept of time left within him. He doesn’t remember how long he’d been standing, the water had turned warm in his hold. He chuckled, heartbreak had a way to scramble memory.
The shrill sound of the doorbell successfully broke his state of trance.
He stared at the wood for a few seconds, heart thumping, a little hopeful to see your face again, to cradle it with such warmth that you’d never leave again, never leave him again. His steps were fast, almost frantic in the way he yanked the door open.
Was he actually daydreaming or were you truly standing in front of him, wearing the same sweatshirt you stole from him? His eyes should have shown concern about your kid eyes, trembling hands, quivering lips, but all he felt was joy.
You were here, you needed him. He thanked whatever or whoever caused you this pain that you ended up right in front of him to seek some sort of comfort. As toxic as it is, Sunghoon truly doesn’t care as long as he’s the one who’d come back to.
Regardless, he had to be sure, so he took a step forward, hand raising up to cup your cheek with the same tenderness he’d always had towards you. The touch felt real, the warmth of your body gave that away. You allowed it, wrapping your own hand on top of his.
Fucking hell, you were real and right with him.
“Oh my god,” he surrendered, pulling you by your nape to be crushed into a hug that spoke more than any words could.
“Sunghoon,” your voice came out muffled against him, which only made him hold you tighter, possessive and consuming in a way no one could, only Hoon made you feel that way—wanted beyond existence. You could hear his heartbeat, remembering how Sunghoon had sworn it beat only for you.
Sunghoon found you melting in his arms with such vulnerability he was dying to see, molded against the unyielding plane of his chest as if the universe itself had realigned its constellations to deliver this singular mercy.
“What’s wrong, my love?” He asked, lips brushing the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, greedy for the scent of your hair, “tell me, baby. I need to know who hurt you so I can fix it.”
You could only shake your head as a reply, peering up to look into his obsidian eyes, “just make me forget.”
Sunghoon would do that—make you forget every second you’d spent apart, every breath you’d taken without one another. He swears you’d only remember one thing, one person, and that’s him.
His hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair as he tilted your face up to his, “you trust me?”
He was close, tracing every bit of your face with his eyes, lips parted, brushing against yours. You barely managed a nod, but it was enough. It was everything.
A shattered exhale escaped him before he closed the infinitesimal distance. His mouth descended upon yours like a prayer finally answered after endless exile, devastatingly tender, as though he feared you might dissolve into memory again. But tenderness ignited into desperation. His lips claimed yours with a hunger forged in months of torment, tongue tracing the seam of your mouth before delving deeper, tasting the salt of your sorrow and the sweet, forbidden promise of reunion.
He kissed you as if he could devour the distance you had carved between you, as if every stroke of his tongue could unravel the cruel threads of time that had kept you apart. A faint taste of salt made him part for a second, tongue tracing the tear that cascaded down the apple of your cheek.
Good lord. You felt guilty—guilty of blaming him for the extent of his love, for his insanity, possessiveness. You’d told him you felt trapped, completely disregarding how safe this trap made you feel. And Sunghoon? He felt a sick sense of satisfaction knowing exactly what effect he had on you.
A loud gasp leaves your lips as Hoon grinds forward, “touch me,” you mumbled, letting him press fervent open mouthed kisses over your jaw.
“More, hm?” He asks, enjoying your pathetic whine when he circles over your nipple through the fabric, his free hand caressing the skin where your top rode up.
It was barely a touch, making you push against him for more contact, “don’t tease, Hoonie.”
A sound of his tongue clicking made you look up with teary eyes, “can’t tease you now? When you left me here for months,” he chuckles, the sound vibrating against the delicate skin of your throat before his mouth claimed yours again in a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. His hand slid beneath the hem of your top with deliberate slowness, fingertips skating over your stomach, tracing the subtle ridges of your ribs as if memorizing every inch he had been denied. The possessiveness in his touch was unmistakable—each press of his palm anchoring you closer, as though the very air between you was an affront he refused to tolerate.
“Months,” he murmured against your lips, the word laced with a husky edge, “do you have any idea what that does to a man, sweetheart? Waking up to silence where your laugh should be. Coming home to sheets that still smell like you, but no warmth beside me.” His teeth grazed your lower lip, tugging gently before soothing it with his tongue, “but you’re back now, all mine, hm?”
You drew a shaky breath, your fingers threading through the dark strands at his nape, holding him there as much as he held you. “I thought—i thought giving you space would fix things,” you whispered, voice cracking with the weight of it. Your free hand slipped under his shirt, palm flattening against the firm warmth of his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles tensed and jumped beneath your touch. “You were everywhere, Hoon. Calling, showing up, making sure no one else could even look at me too long. I felt like I was drowning in you. But god, the second I left, it felt wrong. Empty.”
Sunghoon pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze burning with that sharp, unrelenting intensity. His thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, then traced your jaw as if he couldn’t bear even that small distance. “Empty,” he echoed, the word tasting bitter on his tongue.
“But the truth is, no one else has ever made me feel this wanted, this seen.” His breath hitched at your admission. Without warning, he hooked an arm beneath your knees and lifted you effortlessly, carrying you down the hallway with long, purposeful strides. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and the motion pressed your core flush against the evident hardness straining in his pants. He didn’t stop kissing you, until he nudged open the door to his room, making sure you’d be right where he wanted—on his bed.
He breathed hard, nose nudging your cheek, his brows furrowed as he took your scent in, “pretty, so fucking pretty,” he found himself groaning, “you’re the only one for me, I’d die alone if it’s not you.”
He gripped your chin again, hot breaths mingling, tips of noses brushing, “you’re mine,” he whispered in a tone that showed it wasn’t a choice but a fact.
Even in this position, you could see how perfectly you fit together with each other. Sunghoon used to call you both puzzle pieces—separated, only to be put back together, that you belonged together no matter what.
“We can’t keep going back and forth,” you found yourself saying, despite the situation, your voice fractured by the slow, deliberate drag of his fingers between your thighs. Sunghoon’s laugh was wild.
“Yeah? Why are you here then? Want me to make you forget shit, huh? How will you forget me, darling?” His fingers unbuttoned your jeans, hand fitting inside snugly as his fingers dragged around your cunt, underneath your panties, “c’mon, tell me,” he urged, two fingers entering you stroking that devastating spot with practiced precision while his thumb circled your swollen clit in tight, unrelenting spirals. The wet, obscene sounds of his movements filled the dim room, mingling with your ragged breaths.
A broken moan slipped from your lips as he added a third finger, stretching you open with a delicious burn that made your hips buck against his palm. You gripped his shoulders, nails biting into the taut muscle, trying to ground yourself, “I—I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, voice trembling as pleasure coiled tighter in your core, “every fucking time I try to walk away, it feels like I’m tearing something vital out of myself, it scares me how much I need you.”
He didn’t speed up, instead, he slowed his fingers to a torturous rhythm, dragging them out almost completely before sinking back in, curling and scissoring with expert care. His free hand slid up your body, getting rid of the top in his way, mapping every curve as if reaffirming ownership, thumb brushing over your nipple before he leaned down to capture it between his lips, sucking hard enough to make your back arch clean off the sheets.
“You think it doesn’t scare me?” He murmured against your damp skin, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with his tongue. He lifted his head, forehead resting against yours, sharing every heated exhale, “the thought of you with anyone else makes me want to chain you to this bed and remind you exactly who you belong to?”
It felt good, too good to be true. For Sunghoon, you were his red—a pretty, burning red, a fire which consumed him like no other. Red is also the colour of love, supposedly, but for him it’s the colour of obsession. You, on the other hand, saw blue in him, deep marine blue which provides you solace, the cold which wraps around you, so heavy you end up drowning and drowning until the last breath you take belongs to the blue, and Sunghoon is that blue.
“Chain me?” You breathed, voice catching as his fingers curled again, “you’re fucking crazy, you know that?”
“Try me, i can do much worse,” he whispered hotly, lips brushing yours. His thumb pressed firmer against your clit, rubbing slow, slick circles while two fingers pumped steadily, “one word from you and I’ll bolt the door. No more nights wondering if you’re letting someone else see this pretty pussy.”
His depravity, that tone, it always worked in his favour, making you clench around nothing with a desperation only he managed to bring out of you. He had ruined you for others, “don’t stop.”
“Hm, look at me,” he groaned, pumping faster.
Your eyes met his, dark and so full of everything he was holding back, “yeah.”
“Good girl,” he chuckled, “you feel how tight you are? How perfectly you take me? This cunt was made for me. Say you missed it.”
“I missed it,” you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps, “missed your hands, your mouth—everything. Happy now?”
“Not even close.” He kissed down your body with single-minded hunger, teeth scraping your ribs, tongue dipping into your navel. His fingers never faltered, keeping you right on the edge. When he finally settled between your spread thighs, he stared at your soaked core like a man starved.
“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, voice low and rough. His hands moved with purpose, hooking into the waistband of your jeans and the lace beneath. “Lift your hips for me, baby.” You obeyed without thinking, and he peeled the denim and panties down your legs in one smooth motion, tossing them somewhere behind him into the shadows of the room. Cool air kissed your bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze.
His fingers returned immediately, sliding back through your slick folds before pushing inside again—three this time, stretching you open with that perfect, familiar burn. “There we go. No more barriers, just you and me.”
You let out a shaky breath, one hand reaching down to thread through his dark hair, “stop staring.”
“No one else gets to stare, only me,” he said simply, almost conversationally, as if discussing the weather while his fingers curled lazily inside you, stroking that sensitive spot with devastating patience. He leaned in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another higher up, “I thought about this every night. The way you taste. The little sounds you make when I do this—” He pumped his fingers deeper, earning a gasp from you. “Missed the way your legs shake. Missed arguing with you over stupid shit and then ending up right here.”
A breathless laugh escaped you, quickly turning into a moan as his thumb brushed your clit, “fuck—the fights turned you on? You like fucking me like this?”
“Especially like this,” he answered, nipping gently at your other thigh. His free hand smoothed up your stomach, “fighting with you means you still care enough to yell back, means you’re still mine.”
He dragged his tongue slowly up your center, savoring every inch, a deep groan rumbling against your core, “so sweet,” he whispered, almost to himself, before focusing on your clit—circling it with the flat of his tongue, then flicking the tip in quick, precise strokes while his fingers kept their steady rhythm inside you.
“Hoon—oh god,” you moaned, hips twitching. He pressed his forearm across your lower belly, holding you down gently but firmly.
“Easy,” he murmured against your folds, the vibration sending sparks through you, “I’ve got you. Just let me take care of you.” He sucked your clit between his lips, gentle at first, then with more pressure, alternating with long, languid licks that had your toes curling into the sheets.
Your fingers tightened in his hair, “you’re crazy, the way you act like you can’t get enough.”
He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny, eyes flicking up to meet yours, “because I can’t.” Another slow drag of his tongue. “You think I could ever get enough of this? Of you telling me about your day while I’m between your legs?” He curled his fingers again, smiling faintly when you whimpered, “or how you always steal my hoodies and pretend you don’t. I notice everything, you know.”
“Creep,” you teased weakly, voice breaking into a gasp as he dove back in, tongue working faster, more insistently. The wet sounds of his mouth and fingers filled the room, obscene and intimate all at once.
“Your creep,” he corrected between licks, voice muffled but warm. He scissored his fingers, stretching you wider, then sealed his lips around your clit and sucked harder, humming with satisfaction when your thighs started trembling around his head, “c’mon talk to me, baby. Tell me what you need.”
“Faster—your tongue, right there,” you panted, grinding against his face despite his hold, “and don’t stop the fingers. Please, Hoonie, I’m so close.”
He obliged instantly, fingers thrusting deeper, quicker, while his tongue flicked and swirled with relentless devotion. One hand slid up to intertwine with yours, squeezing tight—an anchor amid the storm he was creating.
“That’s it,” he praised softly against your slick skin. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come apart. Been dreaming about this for months.” His words, the heat of his breath, the perfect pressure of his mouth and fingers—it all crashed over you at once.
Your back arched sharply, a broken cry of his name spilling from your lips as the orgasm tore through you. He didn’t stop, licking you through every wave, drawing it out until you were shaking and oversensitive, whispering soft praises between gentle kisses to your thighs and core.
When you finally caught your breath, he rested his cheek against your inner thigh, looking up at you with that dark, unwavering intensity—content, obsessed, and utterly unwilling to let this moment end.
“Still with me?” He asked quietly, pressing a kiss to your hip, fingers tracing idle circles on your thigh.
“Barely,” you breathed, still trembling.
Sunghoon moved up your body with slow deliberation, dropping soft kisses along the way—your stomach, the valley between your breasts, the hollow of your throat, until his lips found yours. The kiss was deep and unhurried, full of quiet hunger, yet he rushed to take off every bit of clothing he had on him. He rolled onto his back, pulling you over him so you straddled his hips, his hands settling warmly on your thighs.
“Take me like this,” he said softly, his cock rested hard and heavy between you, waiting, “I want to feel every move you make.”
You braced your hands on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and slowly sank down onto him, moaning with how it took you a while to accommodate his size, and Sunghoon swore it was the prettiest sight ever. The stretch was exquisite, drawing matching sighs from both of you as he filled you completely. For a moment, you simply sat there, savoring the fullness, your bodies perfectly joined.
“F—feel so good, Hoonie,” you whispered, beginning to rock your hips in a gentle rhythm. The slide of him inside you sent warm sparks through your veins.
Sunghoon’s hands roamed your body with quiet reverence—one sliding up your side to cup your breast, the other gripping your hip to guide your movements. His eyes stayed locked on your face, drinking in every flutter of your lashes and parting of your lips. “That’s it, just like that,” he murmured. “God, I missed seeing you like this. Missed the way you look when you’re lost in it.”
You leaned forward slightly, changing the angle, and let out a soft moan as pleasure built in slow, rolling waves, “I missed you too,” you admitted, pace quickening a little, breath growing uneven, “It’s always been different with you.”
He sat up to meet you, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer, chest to chest. His hips rolled up to match your rhythm, thrusting deeper while his free hand cradled the back of your neck. “Then don’t leave again,” he whispered against your mouth, the words slipping out between kisses, “I can’t fucking function without you.”
The confession hovered on your tongue, too big to hold back. “Hoon, I—” You faltered, burying your face in his neck as the pleasure intensified.
“Say it,” he coaxed gently, slowing your movements with his hands, making you feel every thick inch of him, “you don’t get to hide it from me.”
“I shouldn’t,” you resisted, but his grip turned vice.
“Shh, just say it, be good,” he urged further.
You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, heart pounding, “I love you,” you breathed, the words trembling but certain, “I love you, Sunghoon.”
Something raw flashed across his face. In one fluid motion, he flipped you beneath him, never once slipping free. Now on your back, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he settled between them, pressing you into the mattress with his weight. The new position felt even more intimate—his body covering yours completely, eyes never leaving your face as he began to thrust in long, deep strokes.
“I love you too,” he said against your lips, the words punctuated by the slow drag of his hips, “so much it drives me crazy sometimes.” His rhythm built gradually, powerful but controlled, one hand laced with yours beside your head while the other stroked your thigh, “you’re everything. I don’t want to waste any more time apart.”
You moaned softly, arching into him, nails tracing down his back. The pleasure coiled tighter with every thrust, every shared breath, every whispered word.
“I love you,” he groaned again, chanting it together with you as if it would undo every fight, every single moment you’d spent apart.
When release finally found you both, it washed over you in warm, shuddering waves. You clenched around him as he groaned your name, spilling deep inside you, hips stuttering before he stilled.
For a long while afterward, he stayed buried inside you, simply holding you close. Eventually, he pulled out gently and rolled to the side, tugging you into his arms. Your legs tangled with his, your head resting on his chest as his fingers combed slowly through your hair. The room was quiet except for the soft sound of your breathing.
“Stay right here with me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you like he never planned to let go, “we’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.”
You complied, not having an ounce of strength to fight or disagree. This could easily be the best you’d felt in the past few months, and sleep came easily when Sunghoon traced patterns over your body, when he got up only to clean you and shower you with kisses. No one could provide you the warmth he provided you with.
Sunghoon was sure he’d have a perfect morning, only, he woke up to an empty bed, the sheets beside him already cold and lifeless. The absence hit like a blade between his ribs. He sat up sharply, dark eyes wild, chest heaving as the void rushed back in.
His hand fisted the pillow where your head had rested, inhaling the fading trace of your scent like a man drowning. After the confessions, the way you had shattered so beautifully beneath him, the way you had promised with every trembling touch.
“You left me again,” he gasped in hopes of finding air. The warmth lingered as a promise.
I come here because I think I remember you mentioned being from south america right? If not you can just ignore this 😥 I haven't seen anyone in this platform speaking about the earthquakes in venezuela and I thought you may have some information about how can we help since you speak Spanish, I'm not from south america so I don't know about trusted places to donate or send money to
I saw many people spreading awareness about gaza (which is completely understandable and I myself still do) but this struck a cord in my heart because of the devastation these earthquakes caused and I wanted to spread awareness about this as well
Ofc if you do not feel comfortable speaking about this topic I completely understand and I hope you don't take this as if I'm pointing fingers, I just want to help in any way possible 🥹
-sincerely an anon who admires you a lot 🤍
TRIGGER WARNINGS: PTSD, natural disasters, death, grief and loss, traumatic events, collapse, displacement, child trafficking (discussion only), mentions of fear, panic, and survivor trauma.
정답 ⎯⎯ I actually wanted to make a whole post about this, but I'll take your lovely request (ilysm for this, bless your soul) and talk about it here instead. I wanted to wait until I had enough information before speaking, and now that I do, I can confidently say that I stand with my Venezuelan people.
As someone who survived a devastating earthquake in 2016, which left me with severe PTSD at the age of 12, I know a little of what so many people there are experiencing right now. I know what it's like to jump at every vibration, to be terrified of sleeping indoors, to wait for the next aftershock, and to feel like the ground beneath you can never truly be trusted again, and to desperatly wait for your family members to walk through that door alive. What happened in Venezuela isn't "just another earthquake." On June 24, the country was struck by two extremely powerful earthquakes, a magnitude 7.2 followed just seconds later by a magnitude 7.5. That second quake hit before many people had even processed the first, causing catastrophic damage across northern Venezuela, especially in La Guaira and parts of Caracas. Rescue teams are still searching through collapsed buildings, and the number of victims continues to rise as more people are found. My heart especially aches for the children, because disasters don't only destroy buildings, they leave families separated, people displaced, and children at a much greater risk of exploitation and trafficking. In moments like these, fear and desperation become opportunities for predators, which is why protecting vulnerable people must be just as important as rescue efforts. The picture below you is an actual child/people trafficking disguised as online shop, please take a look at it:
To everyone in Venezuela: your grief is seen, and your fear is valid. And to those who are spending another night outside because they're too afraid to go back into their homes, I hope you know that people around the world are thinking of you. If you've never experienced an earthquake before, please don't tell survivors to "just calm down." Trauma doesn't disappear once the shaking stops, sometimes the hardest part begins afterward. Here are some links that I've seen so far to help.
Caritas Venezuela (LINK HERE): Known as the helping hand of the Church that reaches out to the poor, the vulnerable, and the marginalized, regardless of race or religion, to build a world founded on justice and brotherly love.
Diviendo Voluntariado (LINK HERE): A civil association that brings together efforts from the private sector and adds value to corporate social responsibility initiatives, in partnership with social development organizations, authorities, agencies, and communities, with the aim of promoting actions that improve the quality of life for people in Venezuela.
Yummy Rides Donations (LINK HERE): A ride-sharing mobile app that operates primarily in Venezuela, designed to book safe and affordable rides by car or motorcycle that joined the cause.
Help find their mascosts: TWITTER POST HERE
THIS WEBPAGE was created by a Venezuelan with certified channels to help (donating, voluntaring, look for people, food and clothes.)
GOOGLE DOCS with links as well in both languages SPA/ENG
CURRENT TWITTER POSTS THAT UPDATE LINKS TO HELP VENEZUELA (will update this everytime i get):
POST #1
POST #2
Sending all my love, solidarity, and strength to Venezuela, praying for those 50k people to be found 🇻🇪🤍
TAGGING MOOTS: @ivehan @teacuplps @hyeon3y @jesmightjumptmr @intromortal @soulofsim @astrae4 @enha-stars @loserlvrss @jaylaxies @makizdoll @heekolazz @pumpkg @ihankaji @coriihanniee @stxrrywoo @starriniqhts @wondipity @taestulipss @kaikaikoi @miseulsoup @moesthinking @htaesan @tobiotaesan @tsanho @j4eyxn @prodkwh @lovhyeon @perlleta @realseanshady @coconhovr @cranialberry @hyuneskkami @griinspire @chocom0ka @nootalue @marsgirltyshi
I know you don’t have any plans on continuing the ‘to all the boys I f*cked before’ series but would it be too much trouble to ask if you’d be willing to give a brief idea of how the very ending would’ve went if that’s alright?
I’m sorry, I loved that series and I’m too damn nossy for my own well being and am DESPERATE to know what you had in mind for how you were gonna end it.
hihi anonnie <33 the ending would have been like this: kitty (yn’s younger sister) sending over all the letters and ofc the boys reaching out. i was planning on making a poll for the guy who should get a second chance and end the fic w that guy 😭 gosh i hope i get the motivation to take it up again, i don’t usually like leaving things midway. sorry anonnie! if you have questions im happy to answer :3
HII aria it's me again. just kidnapped Jay and sending him over to u rn hehehe I hope u enjoyed ur birthday! 🎂
also i realllyyy loved the jake fic so much ?!! he's such a loser i love him. i was very sleepy when i started reading it but i love reading ur fics so much, it's like my coffee ☕ the jellyfish part got me soo bad and the tweets caught me off guard the jakr pfp is so funny. jake is an omega i know that's right.
for real though... one of the greatest Jake fic i've read🤤 u never disappoint!!! like the kissing scenes 😍?? mhm so satisfying to read, I really like the pacing of the story and how good the plot is ofc i llove the smut part too, the highlight !! 🙏🙏 also we love downbad jake
ALSO do u have a 💋 anon yet? hehe i'd love to be a part of ur anons 🤗 i don't usually do this because it's not like i visit anyone's page a lot, but i always check yours because i truly love your works 😭😭
HELLOOO im waiting for that package thank you for the best gift ever 🙂↕️💗 i enjoyed my day :3
i love writing jake a bit flirty and lowkey a loser in love 😭 so glad you liked it ml! LMAO the jellyfish, its js a part of jake’s charm tbh things js go wrong w him ‼️ and oml i don’t think my emoji anons are active these days esp cause ive been ia too, and id love to have you as my 💋 anonnie :3 gonna post a lil fic in a few i hope you like it as well <33 stay safe and healthy!
All ive done all day is binge ur fics and its the best decision ive made this week omg. Your art of seduction jake fic is seriously the best fic ive ever read i LOVE the attempt at humor in it ur such a good writer 😭❤️
this made me so happy anonnie 🥹🫂 thank you sooo much, i genuinely love writing light hearted romance, and humour comes w the group tbh, glad you enjoyed it 💗
MY DISCORD CALENDAR DID NOT UPDATE ME ON TIME??? sorry baby
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARIA !!!!!!! you're such an og on enhablr and i'm always so honoured to remember that we're moots and that we're friends ???
your fics are littered in my likes and in my drafts T^T my reblogs will be filled w little reactions bcs wow they are truly an expereince to read !! i get transported to little mental movies and i appreciate how much effort it must take to write them !!
ty for being a great motivator by example !! hope you had an incredible birthday darling !!
-- manny <3
MANNYYY sorry for the late reply 🥹🫂 IM HONOURED TO BE YOUR MOOT PLEASE you’re so cool likeee woah, that’s my friend? i genuinely gotta read your fics too i get it :3 my birthday was actually great thank youu 💗‼️ hope you’re doing well my lovee <33
I JUST SENT U AN ASK LIKE YESTERDAY OR THE OTHER DYA.. I CAN'T BELIEVE U POSTED I'M SO HAPPY 😭😭🙏🙏🙏 happy birthday ariaaa 💕 i hope you have a wonderful day! i'm telling you i'll kidnap Jay as ur bday gift 🌹wishing you the best in life! you're my favorite jay writer so please stay healthy and take care 💕💕
IT WAS SUCH A CUTE ASK it made me so happy :3 THANK YOUU omg i would love that gift 🙂↕️‼️‼️you’re such a sweetheart, i appreciate all the lovely wishes, anonnie 💗 wishing only amazing things for you as well <33
