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SEVENTEEN:
Boo seungkwan
• Do you really like me? Boo Seungkwan x F! Reader
A two shot based on my absolute shit of love life hahaha, This is my first fanfic, so I didn't write a synopsis.
Kwon Soonyoung;
• Girlfriend? Boo Youmi x F!reader
DK and Mingyu are both head-over-heels for Boo Youmi, constantly begging and pleading for a chance with her. No matter how hard they try, she gently turns them down every time. They’ve begun to suspect she already has someone… and they’re so right!
Youmi is madly in love with you, her best friend — her very first and only crush. You’re the prettiest, kindest girl in her eyes, and she’s completely captivated. What you don’t realize is how deeply her feelings run. You joke about her being your “girlfriend,” kiss her cheek, hold her hand, invite her for sleepovers, and even flash her playfully from time to time. To you, it’s all harmless fun between best friends.
And Youmi is losing her mind.
• What r the rules for breakfast today? Kwon Soonyoung x F! Reader
Your roommate (who just happens to be a tiger hybrid) has been driving you crazy since college, now that you live together it's much more complicated to be around him, because it seems he's allergic to clothes.
After a string of bad dates, you decide to try and do something about it. But predictably, he takes charge and shows you what a real tiger is.
Xu Minghao;
• Cocoa butter kisses Xu Minghao x F! Reader
Minghao works as a private art consultant in Seoul, helping clients find pieces that resonate with their soul, while quietly battling his own crisis; the comforting scent of his mother's cocoa butter now replaced by the ever-present smell of weed.
Then someone like him arrives; a foreign woman also searching for peace in a place that isn't home. In her presence, the memory of cocoa butter slowly loses its hold on the word "home.”
Instead, her fresh, sweet scent steals away the grassy smell that clings to him; just as she steals his heart and his homesickness, offering him a new home in this once inhospitable city.
• Gotta be fucking kidding me! Xu Minghao x F!Reader
Working in the fashion industry is a pain in the ass, but working for Xu Minghao in the fashion industry should be a direct punishment from hell.
Yoon Jeonghan;
• Hand me a towel Yoon Jeonghan x F! Reader
Have you ever misgendered your roommate? When you first moved into your assigned dorm, you didn’t bother talking to them. On the rare occasions you tried, they’d only respond with a nod or a shake of the head. It was fine—talking wasn’t necessary. Both of you were too wrapped up in your own worlds to care.Then one day they called out from the bathroom, asking you to hand them a towel. Nothing unusual. Until you opened the door.
Lee Jihoon;
OMG that's to MEAN! DomPerv!Lee jihoon x f!reader
How the hell was it possible that the most innocent person you knew was a fucking degenerate? He, being one of the sweetest and kindest people you've ever met, trespassing on your property, stealing your belongings to give himself some pleasure, is not something you would expect from him.
Lee chan
God of light music Sex! Pi cheolin x f!reader
Even though he was a business genius, a self-made tycoon, and one of the wealthiest men in the country, Pi Cheolin’s love life had always been a pathetic joke. His engagement barely made it to the altar.
The joke finally seemed to end when a new trainee arrived at his company, someone young, fresh, beautiful, and unfortunately 30 years younger than him... Maybe the joke wasn't over..?
Hi i just wanna say and be honest that for the picheolin smut the og story plot was already good and perfect tho; reader as a new young trainee at his company, his love life and marriage didn’t last over a year that’s is such a gold point in the story anyway we hope you don’t stress urself too much tho💕💕
This is what made me reconsider everything and not change the plot of the story. Thank you so much for keeping me on track, anon! Lol, I hope you already read the fic and enjoy it!
If there is a God of bbongjjak, this is a message for you... Mhgg...Ahhh, fu-fuuck, ah!... Ch-cheol.. ngh!... Fuck- ah!
Even though he was a business genius, a self-made tycoon, and one of the wealthiest men in the country, Pi Cheolin’s love life had always been a pathetic joke. His engagement barely made it to the altar.
The joke finally seemed to end when a new trainee arrived at his company, someone young, fresh, beautiful, and unfortunately 30 years younger than him... Maybe the joke wasn't over..?
Tgs. Porn with some plot, umm, woozi being a menace, PROBLEMATIC age gap, CEO x trainee, boss employee relationship, power imbalance, SMUT! office sex, explicit smut, rough sex, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, oral sex, deepthroat, multiple orgasms, age play, possessive behavior, size kink, attempt of anal sex (doesn't really happen), slightly crack, light choking, aftercare, poly teasing (is just a joke).
Lmk if I missed something (English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes)
An. So I might have something for pi cheolin lol. Since I became a carat and saw this character for the first time I was DELIGHTED, so I'm feeding myself (and hopefully y'all too) with this :3. I took really fuckin long to make this I'm so so sorry hahaha, I struggled a lot to create this, and well, honestly, it makes me cringe a little.
I feel like I really put a lot of expectations on this only for it to end up being crap haha, but I still hope you enjoy it! This also took a bunch of time to write, cuz I was about to change the plot, and, I rewrote this like 2 or 3 times. And I still feel like this is not enough.
ANYWAY, imma stop right here and let y'all read!
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And when you finish this, you can check my previous fics!
“Have you thought about my proposal?” Woozi asked, leaning forward with that familiar mix of persistence and confidence. He was the only person in the company who could speak to Cheolin this casually.
Cheolin raised an eyebrow, swirling the black coffee in his cup. “Ah… I don’t know. Isn’t it too risky? We’re an agency that doesn’t represent young people. Managing a young, female solo artist… I’m not entirely convinced.”
Woozi let out a short laugh, tapping the portfolio on the table. “You say that every time I bring something new to the table. Come on, hyung. The industry is shifting. If we don’t adapt, we’ll become irrelevant. I already have a name, she has something fresh. Real talent. Her voice is unique, really unique, and her stage presence—” He kissed his fingers dramatically. “Chef’s kiss.”
Cheolin flipped open the folder again, keeping his expression neutral. The headshot stared back at him. Those wide, bright eyes. That faint, almost shy smile that didn’t match the body in the training photos. He closed it after only a few seconds.
“She’s twenty-two,” he said flatly.Woozi tilted his head.
“And? We’ve handled rookies before.”“Not female. Not this young. Our brand is maturity, experience, reliability. If we debut her and she crashes, the press will tear us apart. ‘Desperate agency chasing trends,’ ‘Exploiting a young girl,’ all that noise.”
Cheolin leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “We don’t need that kind of risk right now.”Woozi studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly in that perceptive way that always made Cheolin feel exposed. They had been friends for nearly twenty years—Woozi was one of the few people who could push back without fear.
“That’s why you should oversee her personally. You’ve built this company from nothing. No one has better instincts than you. Besides…” He leaned in, lowering his voice like they were sharing a secret, even though they were alone. “You really need to get Chunsunie outta your head.”
Cheolin exhaled slowly through his nose and set his cup down with a soft click. “Even if I was… interested, which I’m not saying I am, it would be completely inappropriate. She’s half my age, Woozi. I’m her potential CEO, not some dirty old man looking for a toy.”
Woozi let out a dry laugh. “You’re not a dirty old man. You’re a 52-year-old man who’s been punishing himself for a failed engagement that was never going to work anyway. She's is young, yes. But she’s also an adult.”
Cheolin rubbed his temple, feeling the weight of every year. “You’re really pushing this.”“Because I care about both the company and you, you stubborn bastard.” Woozi slid the full training evaluation across the table. “Look at the numbers again. Vocal range is excellent. Dance ability is top tier. Work ethic is off the charts. She’s polite, quick to learn,”
Cheolin stared at the closed portfolio but didn’t open it this time. His thumb pressed hard against the edge of the folder.Woozi softened his tone. “Oversee her yourself. Not as some creepy mentor fantasy — as the best CEO in the industry. Guide her career properly. And if something… happens between you two later, well… that’s between two consenting adults. Just don’t let fear and that old Chunsunie wound make you miss out on something good for the company. Or for you.”
Cheolin stayed quiet for a long moment, eyes distant. Finally, he spoke, almost to himself.“…Set up a private showcase. Tomorrow night. Studio 3.”Woozi’s face broke into a satisfied grin. “Already done. 9 PM.”Cheolin shot him a sharp glare. “You were that sure?”“I know you better than you know yourself sometimes.”
Woozi stood up and gathered his things. “Try not to intimidate her too much. And hyung?”“What?”Woozi paused at the door, smirking. “Try smiling once in a while. You might scare the poor girl off looking like you want to eat her alive and fire her at the same time.”“Get out of my office,” Cheolin muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.Once the door closed, Cheolin leaned back in his chair and opened the portfolio again. Her headshot smiled up at him innocently.He let out a long, tired breath and muttered under his breath:“What the hell am I doing…”
The next evening, Studio 3 was quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioning and the occasional creak of chairs.
Pi Cheolin arrived early, ten minutes before nine, because punctuality was habit and because he didn’t want to give the impression that he was making any special effort. He’d changed into a plain black button-down and dark jeans—nothing flashy as usual. Woozi was already there, leaning against the console with his arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.
At exactly 9:02, the door opened and you stepped in.“CEO-nim. Thank you for making time,” you said, voice clear but not overly bright. “I’ll do my best.”
He gave a single nod. “No need for a full production. Just sing what you prepared. Two songs, then we’ll talk.”You didn’t smile nervously or chatter. You simply said, “Understood,” and moved into the recording space.
When you finished, the last note faded into the dead air of the studio. You lowered the mic slightly and waited.Woozi glanced sideways at Cheolin, eyebrows raised in a silent "well" Cheolin stood up and walked into the live room.
The door clicked shut behind him. Up close, he could see the faint sheen of sweat at your hairline and the way you were forcing your breathing to stay even.“Not bad,” he said. His voice was lower, calmer than you expected. “Sit.”You took the chair across from him. Cheolin remained standing for a moment, hands in his pockets, then lowered himself into the seat. “I’m not going to lie to you,” he continued. “Our agency doesn’t usually take on soloists your age. Our roster is older, more established. The optics of signing someone young and female right now are… complicated.”You nodded once, listening.“But talent is talent,” he added. “And you have it. The question is whether you have the discipline to survive the way we work here. No shortcuts. No social media stunts. No scandals. If you debut under us, you’ll be carrying the weight of every headline that says we’re chasing trends.”He paused, watching your reaction.
You didn’t rush to reassure him. Instead you said, “I didn’t come here looking for easy. I came because I want to be good. Really good. And I think your company knows how to build that without burning people out.”Cheolin leaned back slightly, arms resting on the chair.
“You’ve done your research.”“I have.”Another beat of quiet.“I’ll think about it,” he said finally. “We’ll run a few more sessions. Vocal analysis, dance evaluation under fatigue, media training basics. If you’re still standing after that, we’ll talk contracts.”He stood up. You rose with him.As you turned to gather your things, Cheolin spoke again, quieter this time.
“And kid—stop calling me CEO-nim in private if we end up working together. It makes me feel older than I already am.”You glanced back, a small, genuine half-smile breaking through for the first time.“Noted… Cheolin-ssi.”He didn’t correct you. Just gave a short nod and watched you leave the studio.
Woozi appeared beside him a moment later, hands in his pockets, smug as hell.“Still think it’s too risky, hyung?”Cheolin exhaled through his nose and rubbed the back of his neck.“Shut up.” “Haha, told yaaa!” Cheolin scoffed “Don't make me regret this Jihoon-ah”
“You know, I remember when you joined that company and you were telling me about him, you said he was charismatic, flashy, etc... He wasn't any of that crap.Why did you lie to me like that? I almost shit myself when I saw the look you he was giving me.” Jihoon laughed at your confession, then served you both another shot of soju.
“That man used to be like that, I swear, but people change. Cheolin went through a difficult divorce. The woman he married had been his girlfriend since he lived in Sebong-ri. It was a very dark time for him, and I suppose it still is. He hasn't dated anyone, and he hasn't stopped wearing black since his marriage ended. And do you know how long they lasted? Half a year.” Your eyes widened, and you let out a low whistle, “Wow, no wonder.”
You took the shot Jihoon poured, the soju burning a clean line down your throat. The small table in the quiet pojangmacha was sticky with condensation rings, and the late-night humidity clung to your skin. You set the empty glass down with a soft clack.
You leaned your chin on your hand, staring at the flickering neon sign outside. “He still agreed to the extra sessions, though. I thought for sure he’d say no.”
“Because he’s not stupid,” Jihoon said, pointing a piece of squid at you. “Your voice is special. That lower register you hit in the bridge? Not many girls your age can do that without sounding forced. It's great that you worked with me before the audition; you have the best coach by your side.”
You felt a small flutter in your stomach that had nothing to do with the soju. You pushed it down immediately. And just laughed, drinking another shot.
The next two weeks blurred into a punishing but exhilarating rhythm that pushed you to your limits and beyond.
Mornings were dedicated to vocal training under Producer Woo—none other than Woozi himself. The same easygoing friend who had laughed with you over soju became an entirely different person behind the studio glass. He turned into an "asshole", brutally precise, he tore apart every note, every breath, every emotional choice you made. “Again,” he would say flatly, even after you’d already run the section ten times. Your throat grew raw, your patience thinner, and there were moments you genuinely hated him, friend or not. Yet no matter how much you wanted to kill him, you couldn’t deny the results. Under his strict guidance, your voice was sharpening into something cleaner.
Afternoons belonged to dance evaluations with Hoshi —a self-proclaimed Tiger of the company— This man was a force of nature,explosive and seemingly tireless. While your legs trembled and sweat poured down your back after endless repetitions, Hoshi moved like he had unlimited energy, never once showing fatigue. “Come on! You think the audience will feel sorry for you?” he’d yell, clapping his hands sharply to keep the rhythm. He demanded perfection in every angle, every snap of the wrist, every foot placement, pushing you through choreography even when your muscles screamed for mercy. His stamina was almost inhuman, and he expected the same from you. By the end of each session, you were drenched, sore, and barely standing—yet strangely addicted to the fire he lit in you.
Evenings were reserved for the quiet intensity of media training with Jun. The Chinese trainer had an elegant composure that made him look like he belonged on a fashion runway rather than in a practice room. Unlike Hoshi’s loud energy or Woozi’s cutting directness, Jun’s style was calm, measured, and deeply intimidating.
He studied every micro-expression with surgical precision. A slight frown, an overly eager smile, a nervous shift of your gaze—nothing slipped past him. “You'd get canceled for this,” he would note softly, marking it down before launching into another long, deliberately exhausting mock interview. The sessions were mentally draining, filled with repetitive scenarios designed to test your patience and composure under pressure. “The camera sees everything,” he often reminded you. “Master boredom. Master fatigue. Or the public will master you.”
By the time you finally crawled into bed each night, every muscle ached, your mind felt fried, and your voice was hoarse. But beneath the exhaustion, you could feel yourself transforming—growing tougher, more refined, and more confident with each brutal day.
One Thursday night. The clock had already passed 11 PM. You’d run the same song four times under increasingly difficult conditions—after fifty push-ups, after holding a plank for three minutes, after learning brand-new choreography on the spot. Your shirt clung to your back, and strands of hair stuck to your neck.
Cheolin stood in the live room this time, leaning against the wall with his sleeves rolled up. The top two buttons of his black shirt were undone from the heat. For once, he wasn’t wearing a jacket.
“Again,” he said quietly.You caught your breath. “With the new ad-lib at the end?”
He gave a single nod.
You closed your eyes, found the emotion you’d been digging for all night, and sang. When you finished Cheolin didn’t speak right away. He walked over, picked up a clean towel from the stack, and handed it to you without a word. His fingers brushed yours for half a second.
“You’re improving,” he said. His voice was low. “But you’re still holding back in the chorus. Like you’re afraid of taking up too much space.”
You wiped your face, heart still hammering. “I don’t want to come across as… too much. Especially here.”
He studied you for a long moment. The studio lights cast sharp shadows under his cheekbones, making him look both exhausted and unfairly handsome.
“This industry will try to make you smaller in a hundred different ways,” he finally said. “My job is to make sure that doesn’t happen. Not while you’re under my roof.” He paused. “If you sign with us.”
Your pulse spiked. “Are you saying…?”
“I’m saying we’ll draw up the contract next week. But understand this—” His eyes locked onto yours, dark and serious. “I’m not an easy boss by any means, yes, We're not such a strict company, but that doesn't mean I don't strive for perfection in my artists. I really expect perfection. I expect loyalty. And I expect you to tell me when I’m being an unreasonable bastard, because I will be sometimes.”
A small, tired smile tugged at your lips. “Noted...”
He cleared his throat and stepped back. “Go home. Get some rest. And stop letting Jihoon drag you out for soju on weeknights. I can smell it on you.”
Your eyes widened. “I- We only had l-like two or three shots-”“I know my friend,” he muttered, already turning toward the door.
You watched him leave, the door clicking shut with finality. Only then did you let out the breath you’d been holding.
The contract signing was scheduled for a quiet Tuesday morning, nothing ceremonial. No press, just you, Pi Cheolin, Woozi, and a single lawyer who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
You arrived five minutes early. Cheolin was already at the head of the long conference table, reading through the final draft even though he’d probably memorized it.
He glanced up when you entered, gave a short nod, and gestured to the seat across from him.“Morning,” he greeted you. “Morning… Cheolin-ssi.”
Woozi, leaning against the windowsill with a coffee, smirked but wisely kept his mouth shut.The lawyer slid the papers over. Ten pages of carefully worded clauses. You’d read the draft twice the night before, but seeing it now, with your name typed at the bottom, still felt surreal.
Cheolin watched you as you scanned the final version.“Any last questions?” he asked.You hesitated, then met his eyes. “Just one. The clause about personal relationships… it says I have to disclose anything that could affect the company image. Does that include… dating?”
Woozi suddenly found the view outside very interesting.
“It does. But I’m not asking you to live like a nun. Just don’t be stupid about it. No trainees, no competitors, no married men, and definitely no posting blurry couple photos on Instagram. If it gets serious, you tell me first. I’d rather manage the narrative than clean up a scandal.”His tone was purely professional.
You signed.He signed after you. When he slid the copy back to you.
“Congratulations,” he said. “Welcome to my roster. Try not to make me regret it.”The corner of your mouth lifted. “I’ll do my best, boss.”Woozi clapped once. “Finally. Now the real work begins.”
Several months had passed since the signing of the contract, you already had a debut album on the way, a concept, an image, and you had been teased to the public.
You were in the company gym, it was around 11 pm and you had just finished your daily workout. To end the day, you decided to work out instead of jogging.
You decided to do one last set of squads, you had your headphones on at full volume, so you didn't realize that someone was watching you.
“pervert.” Pi Cheolin almost had a heart attack when he heard his friend's voice behind him. “Fuck you! I'm not a pervert” He straightened up and turned to face him. “Yeah, right, and the sky is green. You son of a bitch, Lee chan.” Cheolin gulped at the use of his full government name. Woozi laughed at him and shoved a paper in his face. Cheolin raised an eyebrow and read out loud the content written on the paper. “Immediate change of vocal coach-” He immediately tried to "clear his throat" “Oh my god, how could this have happened, hahaha”Cheolin let out the most fake laugh he could master.
Woozi doubled over laughing, clutching the paper like it was the funniest contract clause he’d ever written. “Immediate change of vocal coach due to… personal conflict of interest? Riiiight, Could this little "personal conflict" be due to you wanting to be glued to her ass?” Cheolin's eyes widened and he shook his head “The fuck you talking about!? Stop saying nonsense!” “Hyung, you’re not even subtle anymore. You’ve been staring at her ass for the last ten minutes.”
Cheolin snatched the paper, scanning it quickly before crumpling it in his fist. “You’re enjoying this way too much. I was checking her form. Posture. That’s part of evaluation.”
“Yeah? And the way your eyes were glued to her when she dropped into that squat was purely professional assessment, right? I am having a true blast watching this happen before my eyes!” Woozi wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning like a shit-eating fox. “Lee Chan-ah. Lee. Chan. You’re down bad.”
Cheolin shot him a murderous glare but couldn’t quite deny it fast enough. Woozi snorted when Cheolin looked back, and saw you make another squat “ Oh! Oh! Just look at that!” Cheolin's head snapped back at him, “Oh my god, your jaw was literally slack. I thought you were about to start drooling.” Cheolin exhaled sharply through his nose, a rare crack in his usual composure. He turned fully away from the gym door this time, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not… I’m not—” He stopped, because they both knew whatever excuse he was about to give was bullshit. “Look. You’ve been wound tighter than a femboy twink since she signed, you need to loose that hole of yours. Either do something about it or stop staring before she notices and thinks her CEO is a creep.”
“I’m not going to "do something,"” Cheolin said quietly, dangerously. “She’s twenty-two. I’m her boss. End of discussion.”
Woozi’s voice dropped, the teasing fading into something more serious. “She's a consenting adult, twenty-two, not eighteen, not nineteen, twenty-two, under contract, and looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars when you give her the smallest crumb of praise.”
Cheolin exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know. Fuck, I know.” His voice was rough. “That’s why I’m trying to stay away. You know, I think she sees me more as a kind of "father figure." Besides that, I'm not going to risk my career over a scandal— just imagine the headlines!”
Woozi let out a low, disbelieving chuckle.“Father figure?” He repeated the words like they tasted ridiculous. “Hyung, are you fucking blind? That girl doesn’t look at you like you’re her dad. She looks at you like she wants you to bend her over the mixing board and ruin her vocal cords for an entirely different reason.”
Cheolin’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “Watch your mouth.”“No, you watch yours. Or better yet—watch hers when she says your name. ‘Cheolin-ssi~” Woozi imitated your voice in a breathy, exaggerated way that made Cheolin’s ears turn red. “She’s not calling you that because she wants paternal advice. She’s calling you that because she’s trying to be respectful while probably wanting you to rile her against the console.”Cheolin turned away sharply, “You’re disgusting.”
“Oh my god, are you getting hard!?” Jihoon burst out laughing, "So old men like you still get boners?” He kept on laughing his ass off.
You pulled your headphones down around your neck, breathing hard, and reached for your water bottle. That’s when you noticed the two men outside the gym, trough the slight crack of the open door. Woozi was laughing like an idiot. Pi Cheolin looked… tense.
You wiped your face with a towel and walked over, pushing open the door.
“Everyting alright?” you asked, a tired but playful lilt in your voice. “Should I be worried Jihoon is laughing so damn hard?” Woozi immediately made himself scarce. “Oh would you look at the time. I have… things. Important producer things. Bye.” He practically sprinted out.
Then he exhaled through his nose and looked away toward the rain-streaked window.“Go home,” he said, voice rougher now. “Before I start sounding like a bitter old man giving unwanted advice.”
You smiled faintly,“Cheolin-ssi.”He looked at you.“For what it’s worth… I like the man you are now. Even when you’re scary.”
You slipped out before he could respond, heart beating faster than it had any right to.Behind you, in the empty hallway, Pi Cheolin stood still for a long moment, a tired hand rubbing over his face as he muttered to the quiet room
“…This is going to be trouble.”
Cheolin stood motionless in the hallway long after the door clicked shut behind you. He let out a slow, controlled breath and pressed two fingers against the bridge of his nose.
“Trouble,” he repeated under his breath. “That’s the fucking understatement of the decade.”
His body was still betraying him. The image of you in those tight leggings, thighs flexing with every squat, the way your tank top had ridden up… He cursed quietly and adjusted himself, irritated at how easily his body reacted these days. At fifty-two, he thought that kind of mindless hunger belonged in the past. Apparently not.
You were warming up your voice in the dedicated room, waiting for Woozi to walk through the door.
What a surprise it was to see none other than Pi Cheolin
Pi Cheolin stood in the doorway, one hand still on the handle like he was debating whether to step fully inside or retreat. He was dressed in his usual black—button-down sleeves rolled to his forearms, the top button undone, and he was wearing... A hat, and some sunglasses... Who wears sunglasses indoors!?You thought to yourself.
“I'm gonna be your new vocal coach, keep warming up, you're doing a cover of my hit song” “God of light music?” “Mhm”
You continued your warm-up, and about 10 minutes later, they finally moved on to rehearsing the song. Your voice wasn't like Seokmin's, and you struggled to reach his notes, which was starting to frustrate Cheolin.
“Again, "Stop singing with your throat for God's sake! You have to sing with your diaphragm, damn it!" Her expression looked like his anger was hanging by a thread.
You tried again, your voice broke again mid-verse, and that made him snap.
He threw the papers he was holding to one side, stood behind you, and pressed hard on your diaphragm.
You tried again, but the note fractured halfway through, unsupported and thin. Cheolin inhaled and exhaled, calming down properly.“Stop. You’re still singing from your throat. Use your diaphragm properly.”
He stepped in closer without warning, positioning himself directly behind you. His chest brushed your back as his right hand settled firmly against your lower abdomen, just beneath your ribs. The pressure was strong and deliberate, guiding your breathing. His left hand rested lightly on your shoulder to keep your posture aligned. The sudden closeness made the studio feel ten degrees warmer—his body heat, the faint scent of his cologne, the low timbre of his voice right beside your ear.
“Again. Breathe here. Expand against my hand. Don’t lift your shoulders.”
You nodded, trying to focus. The position felt slightly off after yesterday's long ass session—your legs were still shaky and your balance unsteady. You shifted your hips in a small, subtle wiggle, trying to find a more stable stance and settle his hand more comfortably against your core.
That small movement pressed your backside firmly back against the front of his body.
Cheolin went rigid.
The soft curve of your ass ground against him for a single, devastating second. Heat surged through him instantly, blood rushing south so fast it left him dizzy. His cock twitched and began to harden against the fabric of his slacks, thickening rapidly from the accidental contact. Shame hit him like ice water, but it did nothing to stop the heavy, aching throb that followed.
You felt him tense behind you—his hand tightening slightly on your abdomen—but you didn’t register anything more than that. You assumed he was just correcting your posture more firmly.“Cheolin-ssi…?” you started, uncertain.
“Enough.” His voice came out rough, almost strained. He yanked his hand away as if your skin had burned him and took two sharp steps back. “Session’s over.”
You turned, blinking in confusion. His face was unreadable, jaw clenched tight, but his ears were flushed red.
“Go find Hoshi,” he said curtly, already turning toward the door. “Tell him I sent you for endurance work. Don’t waste time.”
Before you could say anything else, he was gone—striding out without a backward glance.
Pi Cheolin didn’t stop moving until he reached his private executive bathroom on the top floor. He locked the door with a sharp click, heart pounding in his ears.
“Fuck… fuck,” he muttered, bracing one hand on the marble counter.
The image wouldn’t leave him: the way your ass had pressed back against him, soft and warm even through layers of clothing. His cock was fully hard now, straining painfully against his slacks. At fifty-two, he hated how quickly his body had betrayed him.
He exhaled shakily and unzipped, freeing his erection. It was flushed dark and heavy in his hand, already leaking at the tip. He wrapped his fingers around the thick length and gave one slow, firm stroke from base to head, hissing at the relief.
Leaning forward, forehead pressed against the cool mirror, he started stroking in earnest—long, tight pulls, thumb swiping over the sensitive head on every upstroke. His breath fogged the glass. He kept replaying that moment in the vocal room: your little wiggle, the perfect press of your body against his cock, the way you’d said his name so politely while he was losing control behind you.
“Shit…” he groaned under his breath.
He tightened his grip, pumping faster, hips jerking forward into his fist. The wet, rhythmic sound of skin on skin filled the small bathroom. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He imagined what it would feel like if he’d gripped your hips instead, if he’d ground against you properly, if you’d pushed back on purpose—
A low, broken sound escaped his throat. His balls tightened, thighs trembling. He stroked harder, almost punishing, chasing the release he desperately needed.
It hit him hard. He came with a choked grunt, thick ropes of cum spilling over his fist and onto the sink as his cock pulsed again and again. The orgasm dragged on, wave after wave, leaving his legs weak and his vision spotted.
When it finally subsided, Cheolin stood there panting, staring at his reflection—flushed, disheveled, eyes dark with lingering want and fresh guilt.
He cleaned up mechanically, splashing cold water on his face afterward. The shame settled heavy in his chest.
This couldn’t happen again. He wouldn’t let it.
But even as he straightened his clothes and fixed his expression into its usual stoic mask, he already knew the lie was getting harder to believe.
Woozi was leaning against the wall right outside the bathroom, arms crossed, wearing the smuggest grin Cheolin had ever seen. His eyes flicked down pointedly to Cheolin’s slightly disheveled shirt and the faint flush still visible on his neck.
“Hmm, you know, for a fifty-two year old man, you last like a teenager jacking off for the first time,” Woozi said, voice dripping with amusement.
Cheolin nearly had a heart attack. He slammed the bathroom door behind him harder than necessary.
“You son of a bitch!” he hissed, voice low but venomous. “All you do is torment me. Were you waiting out here the whole time?”
Woozi shrugged, completely unbothered. “I came to drop off the revised tracklist. Then I heard the most pathetic little grunt through the door. Had to stay for the show. Respectfully.”
Cheolin rubbed a hand down his face, wishing he could disappear. “I hate you. I actually hate you.”“No, you don’t. You love me. I’m the only one who tells you the truth.” Woozi pushed off the wall and stepped closer, lowering his voice even though they were alone on the executive floor. “So. How bad was it? Did you even make it to the sink or did you ruin your slacks like a desperate schoolboy?”
Cheolin shot him a murderous glare and started walking toward his office. Woozi followed like an annoying shadow.
“I’m serious, Jihoon,” Cheolin said once the office door was closed. “This stops now. I’m not doing this. She’s twenty-two. I’m her goddamn CEO. One accidental… moment doesn’t change anything.”
Woozi dropped into the chair across from Cheolin’s desk, spinning a pen between his fingers. “Accidental moment. Sure. And you ran up here to jerk off in your bathroom because you’re just that professional, right?” He tilted his head. “Hyung. I’m surprised you didn’t come the second her ass touched you.”
Cheolin sat heavily in his chair and glared at the ceiling. His body still felt loose and sensitive from the orgasm, which only made him more irritated. “It’s been years since I’ve… been with anyone. That’s all it is. Biology.”
“Bullshit,” Woozi said cheerfully. “You’ve had opportunities. You just never wanted anyone. Until her.”
Silence stretched between them.
Cheolin’s jaw clenched. The memory of your body pressed against his flashed through his mind again, and he felt a faint twitch of renewed interest. He shut it down immediately.“I dismissed her to Hoshi,” he muttered. “I can’t coach her vocals anymore. Conflict of interest. You’re taking her back full time.”
Woozi raised an eyebrow. “You really think avoiding her is going to fix this? You’re just going to keep staring at her in the gym, jerking off in your office bathroom every time she wears leggings, and slowly lose your mind?”
Pi Cheolin didn’t answer.
Woozi sighed, the teasing fading from his tone. “Let me remind you for the nth time, you’re both adults. Just… be careful. Oh! And remember to use condoms, I'm too young to be an uncle.”
“Get out of my office, Jihoon-ah.”
Woozi stood up with a small smirk. “Fine. But try not to jerk off again before lunch. You’re too old for that much cardio.”
“Get. Out.”
Once the door clicked shut, Cheolin leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The silence in his office felt heavier than usual.
He couldn’t keep doing this. Not the staring. Not the private sessions. Definitely not the bathroom incidents.
For the next few days, he kept his distance. He buried himself in meetings, paperwork, and the upcoming comeback schedules of his established artists.
He reviewed your training reports through Woozi and Hoshi instead of watching in person. When he did pass you in the hallway, he gave short nods and kept walking, jaw tight, eyes anywhere but on your legs or the way your sweat-dampened shirt clung to your body.
It worked. For about four days.
Thursday evening, just past 9 PM.
You were in the main practice room alone, reviewing the final choreography for your title track. The mirrors reflected your tired but determined expression as you ran the bridge section again, hips rolling into the sharp isolations Hoshi had drilled into you for weeks.
The door opened.
Cheolin stepped in, expecting the room to be empty. He’d come down to check the updated lighting cues for the stage mock-up, not realizing you’d stayed late.
You didn’t notice him at first, too focused on the music pulsing through the speakers.
The cropped hoodie you wore had ridden up, exposing a strip of smooth skin above your waistband with every hip pop.
Cheolin stood frozen near the door, one hand still on the handle.
You executed the final move—a slow body roll downward followed by a sharp snap back up—and caught his reflection in the mirror.
You startled, pulling your earphones out quickly.
“Cheolin-ssi,” you breathed, surprised but not unhappy. A small smile tugged at your lips. “I thought everyone had gone home already.”
He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze up to your face. “I was just checking the stage specs. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
You reached for your water bottle, still catching your breath. “It’s fine. I was about to call it a night anyway.” You took a long sip, then wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “How does it look? Be honest.”
He found himself stepping further into the room.“You’ve improved a lot,” he admitted, voice low. Your cheeks warmed at the praise. “Hoshi-sunbaenim said the same thing yesterday. I’ve been practicing as much as I can.”
Cheolin’s eyes flicked down for half a second—against his will—watching the way your chest still rose and fell from exertion. He looked away sharply.
“Good,” he said curtly. “Keep that energy on stage. Don’t let the nerves make you small again.”
You tilted your head slightly, studying him. He seemed… off. Tenser than usual. The way he was standing, shoulders rigid, hands shoved deep in his pockets like he was physically restraining himself.
“Is everything okay?” you asked carefully. “You’ve been kind of distant since the vocal session last week. Did I do something wrong?”
The question hit him hard
Cheolin forced a neutral expression. “No. You’re doing well. I’ve just been busy. And… it’s better if Woozi handles your vocals from now on. I've got a packed schedule.”
You nodded slowly, though something in his tone made you unsure. “I understand.” An awkward silence stretched between you.
You bent down to pick up your towel from the floor, and Cheolin turned away entirely, pretending to examine the mirrored wall like it was the most fascinating thing in the building.
When you straightened up, you caught the back of his neck and ears were noticeably red.“I’ll head out first then,” you said softly. “Thank you for checking in, Cheolin-ssi. Goodnight.”
As you walked past him toward the door, your arm brushed lightly against his. Just the faintest contact. Cheolin’s hand twitched at his side.
“Goodnight,” he replied, voice rough.
The door closed behind you.He stayed in the empty practice room for another ten minutes, staring at his own reflection, breathing through the fresh wave of heat pooling low in his stomach.
“Get a fucking grip, Lee chan,” he muttered to himself.
Three weeks had passed since that incident. The recordings for your debut album were just around the corner.
And every damn night, his mind replayed that moment in the vocal room. The soft press of your ass. The little wiggle. The way you’d said his name so politely while his body had reacted like a starving man.
By Friday, he was irritable and short with everyone. Even his secretary asked if he needed a doctor.
Woozi, of course, was thriving.“You look like you haven’t slept since 2018,” Woozi said, dropping into the chair in Cheolin’s office uninvited. He was eating convenience store ice cream straight from the tub with a spoon. “Let me guess. You’re still doing the noble avoidance thing?”
Cheolin didn’t look up from his screen. “It’s called working, something you should do by the way.”“Bullshit. You look constipated. She asked me yesterday why you’re avoiding her. I almost told her the truth—that you jerked off in the executive bathroom because her ass brushed against your sad, neglected dick.”
Cheolin’s head snapped up. “You. did. not.”
Woozi grinned around his spoon. “Relax. I told her you’re just stressed about her debut. But hyung… this is getting ridiculous. You’re not protecting her. You’re torturing yourself. And honestly, it’s starting to affect your face. You’re scaring the interns again.”
Cheolin rubbed his temples. “She’s twenty-two.”“And you’re fifty-two, not dead. She’s legal. So stop acting like you’re grooming her. You’re not. You’re just a man who finally wants someone after years of punishing himself.”
The day before the official recording sessions for your debut album, the studio floor was eerily quiet.
Woozi had called in “sick” that morning. His text had been suspiciously short and cheerful: Food poisoning. Don’t make a mess on my recording studio^^. Fighting~
Cheolin knew better. That little shit had planned this.
It was just the two of you now. You in the recording booth, Cheolin on the other side of the glass in the control room, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The red “Recording” light wasn’t even on yet. You were simply running the title track one last time, trying to loosen your voice after a full day of rehearsals.
You’d already gone through the song twice. Each take was technically clean, but Cheolin kept stopping you.
“Again,” he said through the talkback, voice low and controlled. “You’re still squeezing the high notes. Relax your throat.”
You nodded, adjusting the headphones. The booth felt smaller than usual with only his eyes on you. You rolled your shoulders, took a slow breath, and started the verse again.
Halfway through the pre-chorus, your voice cracked slightly on the transition.
Cheolin exhaled sharply and pressed the button. “Come out here.”
You stepped out of the booth, wiping a thin layer of sweat from your neck. He was leaning against the mixing console, sleeves rolled up, the top two buttons of his black shirt undone. The tension in his jaw was visible from across the room.
“Cheolin-ssi… I’m sorry, I’m a little nervous about tomorrow,” you admitted.
He didn’t answer right away. His dark eyes dragged slowly down your frame — the loose cropped hoodie, the tight short leggings, the way your chest still rose and fell from singing — before snapping back to your face.
“You’re not nervous about the song,” he finally said. “You’re nervous because I’m here instead of Jihoon.”
You didn’t deny it.
He pushed off the console and walked toward you, stopping just close enough that you could smell his cologne and the faint trace of coffee on his breath. “You’ve been practicing for weeks. Your voice is ready. So why the fuck are you tightening up the moment I’m in the room?”
Your back met the edge of the booth door. “Because you’ve barely looked at me for three weeks. And now you’re staring like you want to, I don't know? Eat me alive again or something.”
Cheolin’s breath hitched. A muscle jumped in his cheek.
“I- I'm really done, you've got me fucked up, leave before I loose all my decency,” he warned. You looked up at him, pulse hammering. “Or what?”
The last thread of his restraint snapped.
He grabbed your chin, tilting your face up, and kissed you hard. You moaned softly into his mouth, hands fisting in his shirt. He walked you backward into the recording booth without breaking the kiss, kicking the door shut behind him.
Inside the small, soundproof space, the air felt even thicker. He pressed you against the wall, one thigh sliding between yours as his mouth moved to your neck.
“Three fucking weeks,” he growled against your skin. “Trying to be professional. Trying not to think about how soft you felt against me.”
Your hand slid down his chest, palm brushing over the obvious bulge straining against his slacks. He hissed.
“Cheolin…” you whispered, voice already breathy.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark. “It's either Cheol, or Boss for you. Now get the fuck down on your knees.”
The command sent heat rushing through you. You sank down without hesitation, fingers working open his belt and zipper.
When you freed him,you didn't expected what you saw, his cock was already fully hard, thick and heavy in your hand, the head flushed dark and glistening, he had some pubic hair, nothing too messy, made he look even manlier.
Cheolin let out a shaky exhale, one hand bracing against the wall while the other slid into your hair.
“You wanted to open your chords properly?” His voice was low, almost dangerous. “Then open your throat for me.”
You leaned in, licking a slow stripe along the underside before taking him into your mouth. He groaned deeply, hips twitching forward as the wet heat enveloped him. You worked him steadily, relaxing your jaw, taking him deeper with each bob of your head.
“Fuck… that’s it,” he muttered, fingers tightening in your hair. “Just like that. Relax your throat.”
You pushed further, breathing through your nose until your lips met the base and the head pressed against the back of your throat. Your eyes watered slightly, but you held there, swallowing around him.
Cheolin’s head fell back, a raw sound escaping him. “Shit… good girl.”
He let you set the pace for a moment before his control slipped. His hips started moving, shallow thrusts at first, then deeper, fucking into your mouth with growing urgency. The wet, obscene sounds filled the small booth — muffled gags, heavy breathing, the occasional choked moan from you that made his cock twitch against your tongue.
“Look at me,” he ordered hoarsely.
Your teary eyes met his as he slid deeper, holding himself there for a few seconds each time, opening your throat with every thrust. Saliva dripped down your chin. His thumb brushed it away almost tenderly, even as he rocked deeper.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasped, voice strained. “Walking around here looking like that… calling me Cheolin-ssi while I’m losing my fucking mind…”
His rhythm grew rougher, hips snapping forward as he chased his release. You gripped his thighs, taking everything he gave you, throat contracting around him.
“I’m close—” he warned, trying to pull back, but you grabbed his hips and pulled him deeper instead.
With a broken groan, Cheolin came hard down your throat, pulsing against your tongue as thick ropes spilled into you. You swallowed around him, milking every drop until his legs trembled and he had to brace himself against the wall.
He stayed buried in your mouth for a long moment, breathing hard, before slowly pulling out. A thin string of saliva connected your swollen lips to the head of his cock.
Cheolin stared down at you, thumb tracing your bottom lip, something inside him snapped. All this time, neglecting himself, telling himself this was absolutely wrong, turned on him. Seeing himself "corrupt" such a young soul excited him too much. “Aigooo~ such a pretty slut aren't ya? C'mere I'm gonna fuck you in the proper place.”
He pulled you up gently but firmly, his thumb still brushing your wet lower lip. His eyes were locked in yours. “Please, tell... Tell me to stop right now, shove me against the wall, and make me lose my job.” You just looked at him with your pretty, round eyes, and opened your little mouth, sticking out your tongue.
“Spit on my mouth Daepyo-nim”
“Dirty girl,” he said letting out a breathless laugh. “You like this? You've wanting this, hmm?”And without warning, he slapped you, then grabbed your chin with one hand, digging his pretty fingers into your cheeks. Making you open your mouth once more, You stuck out your tongue instinctively, and Cheolin finally spat directly in your tongue.
The elevator ride up to the executive floor felt endless. Cheolin kept his grip firm on your wrist, thumb pressed against your pulse point like he needed to feel how fast your heart was racing. The mirrored walls reflected the two of you—his tall, imposing frame in black. He didn’t speak. Neither did you. The only sound was the low hum of the elevator and your own uneven breathing.
The moment the doors slid open on the top floor, he pulled you out, walking fast enough that you had to hurry to keep up. His private office was at the end of the hall. The moment the heavy door shut behind you, he locked it with a decisive click.
Cheolin turned, and in one smooth motion pushed you against the wide mahogany desk. Papers scattered. A pen holder clattered to the floor. He didn’t care. “Last chance,” he rasped, caging you in with both hands on the desk. His voice was rough, almost angry with how much he wanted this. “Tell me to stop. Call me a disgusting old man and walk out. I’ll still debut you. I’ll still take care of your career. Just… fuck—say it now.”
You looked up at him, lips parted, eyes glassy with want. Instead of answering with words, you reached down and boldly palmed the thick bulge still straining in his slacks, squeezing lightly. “So big...”
Cheolin’s breath stuttered. Something feral flashed across his face.
“Brat.”
He spun you around fast, bending you over the desk so your chest pressed against the cool wood. His large hand pushed between your shoulder blades, keeping you down as the other yanked your tight leggings and panties down in one rough tug, exposing you to the cool air of the office.
“Fuck,” he groaned at the sight. His palm smoothed over the curve of your ass before he gave it a sharp slap. The sound cracked through the quiet room. You gasped, hips twitching back instinctively.
He dropped to his knees behind you without warning. Strong hands spread your thighs wider, and then his mouth was on you—hot, greedy, no teasing. His tongue dragged through your folds, licking broad and messy, groaning at the taste of you like a man starved. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, your knees buckled.
“Cheolin-ssi—!” you cried out, fingers scrabbling against the desk.
He pulled back just enough to growl, “I told you. It’s Cheol or Boss when my tongue is in your cunt.” Then he dove back in, fucking his tongue into you, nose pressed against you as he ate you out with filthy, wet sounds. His nose, which used to touch your perineum, was replaced by his tongue, giving long licks from your ass to your clit. “F-fuck...Daepyo-nim- ahh-!”
Your moans grew louder, shameless. He added two thick fingers, curling them perfectly, stroking that spot inside you until your thighs shook and you came hard, gushing against his tongue with a broken sob of his name.
He rose behind you, pressing the thick, heavy outline of his clothed cock against your dripping pussy. The heat of him made you clench around nothing. “I’ve been hard for weeks thinking about this,” he growled against your ear, chest flush to your back as he rolled his hips, dragging that fat bulge between your soaked folds. “Thinking about how fucking tight you’d be. How wrong it is that a dirty little 22-year-old trainee is making a man my age throb like this.”
You whimpered, pushing back greedily.
Cheolin chuckled low and dark, then stepped back just enough to shove his slacks and boxers down. His cock sprang free—long, thick, and heavy, the veiny shaft curving slightly upward, the fat head leaking for the second time. He gave himself one slow stroke, clearly proud of the impressive length and girth even at fifty-two.
“Eyes on it, baby,” he ordered. “This is what you did to me. Look how hard your CEO’s cock is for a girl young enough to be his daughter.” He rubbed the swollen head up and down your slick pussy, coating himself in your juices before pressing against your entrance.
“Beg for it.”
“Please, mmm, Cheol… Daepyo-nim… fuck me, fuck me so so hard pleasepleaseplease!” you moaned, voice shaking with need.
That was all he needed. He pushed in—slow but relentless—watching with dark satisfaction as your tight cunt stretched obscenely around his thick length. Inch after inch disappeared inside you until his heavy balls pressed against your clit and his pelvis kissed your ass. “Fuuuuck,” he groaned, savoring the way your walls fluttered and squeezed. “So goddamn tight. Your little pussy is swallowing every inch like it was made for me.” He stayed buried deep for a moment, letting you feel all of him. “Most men my age can’t even get half this hard. But me? I’m still fucking hung and I can ruin you for hours, and I'm doing so, I'm gonna ruin you, You'll never want to fuck boys your age again, you'll only think about me, about how my cock fills you completely.”
Then he started moving.
He fucked you like a man proving a point—deep, powerful strokes that made the heavy desk slam against the wall. The wet, filthy sound of his thick cock plunging into your soaked cunt echoed obscenely in the office. Every thrust forced a broken moan out of you. “Listen to that sloppy pussy,” he grunted, one hand fisting your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. “Soaking my balls already. You love getting split open by old man cock, don’t you?”
“Yes—yes, fuck—!” you cried, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes. Cheolin laughed breathlessly, sweat already beading on his forehead, but his pace never faltered. He was showing off—long, punishing strokes that pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, making sure you felt every thick inch.
“Such a pretty pussy, good little girl.” he growled, reaching around to slap your clit lightly. “I’ve got stamina you’ve never even dreamed of, baby. I can fuck this tight cunt all night and still cum buckets. You’re gonna feel me for fucking days.”
He suddenly pulled out, spun you around, and lifted you onto the desk like you weighed nothing. Your back hit the wood, legs spread wide as he stepped between them and drove back inside in one brutal thrust. “Fuck—Cheol!” you screamed, nails digging into his shoulders. “That’s right. Say my name while I wreck you,” he snarled, pounding into you harder. His shirt was still half-buttoned, sweat making the fabric cling to his chest. The wet slap of his heavy balls against your ass filled the room with every thrust. “Look down. Watch how deep I’m going. See how your tiny pussy takes all this cock.”
You obeyed, whimpering at the obscene sight of his thick, glistening length disappearing inside you over and over. He leaned down, biting your neck hard enough to mark you, then growled against your ear, “I’m going to fill you up until my cum is leaking down your thighs tomorrow while you’re recording. Every time you sit down, you’ll remember whose cock ruined this pussy.”
His thumb found your clit again, rubbing fast and rough. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train—walls clamping down around his cock as you gushed around him, sobbing his name. “Mhgg...Ahhh, fu-fuuck, ah!... Ch-cheol.. ngh!”
Cheolin groaned loudly, fucking you through it without slowing. “Good girl—milk my cock. That’s it… fuck, you’re squeezing me so good.”
His thrusts grew erratic but still powerful. With a deep, animalistic groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy, pulse after pulse as his cock throbbed inside you. He kept grinding deep, pushing his load as far as it would go, like he wanted to claim every inch of you.
Even after he finished, he stayed buried inside, panting against your neck, his cock still half-hard and twitching.
“Still hard,” he muttered with a dark, satisfied chuckle, giving one lazy thrust that made you whimper. “Told you. At my age I still fuck better than boys your age ever could.”
He finally pulled out slowly, watching with filthy pride as a thick glob of his cum leaked from your ruined hole and dripped onto the desk.
Cheolin ran two fingers through the mess, pushed them back inside you, and leaned down to kiss you messily, tongue invading your mouth.
“You’re gonna take another load, baby,” Cheolin growled, voice thick with lust. He scooped two fingers through the creamy mess leaking from your pussy and pushed it back inside, stirring slowly. “Look how full you are already…”
He pulled you off the desk, legs still shaking, and spun you toward the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the glittering Seoul night skyline. Your palms pressed against the cool glass as he kicked your feet apart.
“Cheol—Daepyo-nim…” you breathed, heart racing at the exposed feeling.
“Geureom, bwa. (That’s right, look.)” He pressed his chest to your back, lining up his still-hard cock and thrusting in deep from behind in one smooth stroke. “Nae jageun trainee-ga changmun ape seo jappyeoissneun geol (My little trainee getting fucked right against the window). Anyone with binoculars could see what a greedy slut you are for your CEO.”
The city lights sparkled below while he fucked you hard and fast, hips snapping powerfully. Every deep thrust made your breasts press against the glass. His long, thick cock hit new angles that made your eyes roll back.
“Fuck—Cheol!” you moaned loudly.
He reached around to rub your clit, biting down on your shoulder. “Neo jinjja jjolttakhae (You’re so fucking tight). Even after I filled you once, this pussy still sucks me in like it wants more.”
After a few minutes he pulled out, breathing heavily but clearly energized. He sat on the large leather couch and pulled you on top, straddling him.
“Ride me,” he ordered, voice rough. “Show me how badly you’ve wanted this old man’s cock.”You sank down onto his length with a broken moan, the new position letting you feel every inch even more intensely. Cheolin groaned deeply, hands gripping your ass as you started bouncing.
“Eung… geureoke (Yeah… just like that),” he praised, eyes locked on where you two were joined. “Look at you bouncing on my cock like a good little whore. Neo neomu yeppeo (You look so fucking pretty) taking all of me.”
He thrust up to meet you, hands guiding your hips faster. Sweat glistened on his chest. At fifty-two he was still rock hard, stamina impressive as he fucked you from below with powerful strokes that made you cry out.
Suddenly he flipped you onto your back on the couch, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and folding you in half. The new angle made him reach impossibly deep.
“Fuck—too deep—! Too much!” you sobbed in pleasure.
“Neomu gipi? (Too deep?)” He smirked, sweat dripping from his jaw as he pounded into you mercilessly. “You can take it. This cock is ruining you for anyone else, isn’t it? After tonight, no boy your age will ever be enough.”
He leaned down, kissing you messily, tongues tangling as the sound of skin slapping wetly filled the office. Then he pulled out again, manhandling you onto all fours on the couch.
“Ass up,” he commanded. He slapped your ass hard, watching it jiggle before slamming back inside. His grip on your hips was bruising as he railed you, long powerful strokes that made your eyes water.
“Joha? (Feels good?)” he growled, one hand fisting your hair. “Tell me whose pussy this is now.”
“Yours—Cheol—yours!” you cried.
His pace grew feral. He reached under you to rub your clit again, pushing you toward another shattering orgasm. When you came hard, clenching and gushing around him, he groaned loudly.
“Geurae, nae geo (Yes, that’s it, mine),” he rasped. “Milk my cock just like that.”With a few final brutal thrusts, Cheolin buried himself to the hilt and came for the second time, flooding your already full pussy with thick, hot ropes of cum. He kept grinding deep, savoring every pulse, making sure you took everything.
Even after coming twice, his cock was still semi-hard inside you. He stayed buried deep, chest pressed to your back, breathing heavily against your neck.
“Still hard…” he chuckled darkly, giving one lazy thrust that made you whimper. “I told you, baby. At my age I can still fuck better and longer than any boy you’ve ever known. And I’m giving you one more round.”
Cheolin stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment. His chest heaved against your back, sweat-slick skin pressed together as he caught his breath. Slowly, he pulled out with a wet sound, watching another thick glob of his cum drip from your ruined pussy onto the couch.
But he wasn’t fully soft yet.
His heavy cock rested against your ass, still warm and thick, glistening with your combined fluids. He gripped your hips, breathing hot against your neck, and rubbed the slick head between your cheeks, teasing the tight ring of muscle there.
“Just a little more…” he murmured, voice hoarse and hungry. “Let me have this too. I’ll go slow—"
You tensed immediately, heart jumping.
“No,” you said firmly, reaching back to push his hip away. “Not that. Not tonight, Cheol.”
Cheolin froze the second the word left your mouth. The lust haze in his eyes cleared almost instantly. He pulled back like he’d been burned, his hands leaving your body completely.
“Fuck… I’m sorry,” he breathed, voice rough with regret. He ran a hand down his face, eyes wide with sudden shame. “I got carried away. I wasn’t thinking. I’m really sorry, baby.”
He quickly pulled his slacks back up, tucking himself away even though he was still half-hard. Then he reached for you gently, no longer demanding. His large hands were careful as he helped you sit up on the couch, pulling your cropped hoodie back down and wiping some of the mess from your thighs with his own discarded handkerchief.
“Come here,” he whispered.
He sat back against the couch and tugged you into his lap, this time cradling you sideways against his chest. One strong arm wrapped around your waist, the other gently stroking your hair. His heartbeat was still fast under your cheek, but his touch had completely changed — protective, almost reverent.
“I shouldn’t have pushed,” he murmured against the top of your head, pressing a soft kiss there. “Not when you’ve already given me so much. I lost control… again.” His voice dropped lower, laced with guilt. “You’re twenty-two. I’m your CEO. And I just fucked you like an animal on my desk, on the window, on this couch… I- I'm really sorry.”
You felt him swallow hard.
He tilted your chin up gently so he could look at you. His dark eyes were softer now, tired but warm. The usual stern mask was completely gone.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip with surprising tenderness. “Did I hurt you anywhere?”
You shook your head, still a little dazed. He let out a long, shaky breath of relief and pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you fully. “You just gave me the best fuck of my life” you managed to say, and you felt him chuckle as his hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back as you curled into him.
For several long minutes, the only sounds were your breathing and the faint hum of the city outside the window. Cheolin held you like something precious, pressing occasional soft kisses to your temple, your forehead, the corner of your eye.Eventually, he cupped your face with both hands and looked at you for a long moment. Then he leaned in and kissed you — not the hungry, claiming way from before, but slow, deep, and achingly tender. His lips moved gently against yours, savoring, apologizing, cherishing. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered, a tired but genuine smile tugging at his lips. “But right now… I don’t regret any of it, you make me, feel young again... I only regret almost crossing that last line.”
He kissed you once more, softer this time, then tucked your head under his chin again, holding you close as the adrenaline slowly faded.
“Stay here for a while,” he murmured into your hair. “Just let me hold you. And, we'll see what comes after.”
“Wow, this room smells like fucking sex” woozi sat on the leather couch of Pi Cheolin's office. And he just rolled his eyes, “What do you want?”
Woozi was already comfortably spread across the leather couch, looking far too pleased with himself. Cheolin sat at his desk, regretting every life choice that led him to this moment.
“Hyung,” Woozi started, grinning like a gremlin, “be honest. How many Viagra pills did it take to wake up that fossilized dick of yours? Did you need the whole blue pack or just half? At 52, I bet it took her a solid twenty minutes of sucking just to get you half-mast. Poor girl probably thought she was doing CPR on your cock.”
Cheolin’s eye twitched. “Jihoon.”
“I’m just worried about you!” Woozi continued dramatically. “All that thrusting at your age… did you pull a muscle? Need me to call a physiotherapist? Or maybe some tiger balm for your lower back after all that ‘impressive stamina’?”
Cheolin rubbed his temples. “I will fire you. Today.”
Woozi bounced on the couch a few times. “So this is the famous fuck couch? Nice. Respect.” He patted the cushion proudly. “You really came inside her? Legend! Though I’m surprised your old heart didn’t give out.”
He suddenly stood up, walked over to Cheolin, and turned around, pressing his ass right against Cheolin’s crotch. Then he had the audacity to wiggle it.
“C’mon Daepyo-nim~ Teach me your ancient thrusting techniques. Is this how you fucked her? Show me the old man magic—”
Cheolin snapped.
“You little shit—!” He shoved Woozi hard, sending him stumbling back onto the couch. In the next second, Cheolin was on top of him, hands wrapped around Woozi’s neck in a fake-strangle while Woozi laughed hysterically underneath him.
“I’m going to kill you. I’m actually going to kill you this time,” Cheolin growled, shaking him lightly while Woozi kept cackling.
Woozi wheezed between laughs, still being dramatic. “Harder, Daddy— I mean, Daepyo-nim! Choke me—! Ahhhh, ahhhhhh! Mmm, shit, I like this stuff.”
The office door opened.
You stood in the doorway, eyes wide at the sight of your scary CEO on top of Woozi on the cum-stained couch, hands around his neck, while Woozi looked way too happy about it.
A surprised laugh escaped you.
Both men froze. You leaned against the doorframe, biting your lip to contain your grin. “Wow… I don’t mind a third,” you said sweetly, tilting your head. “If you two are already warming up, I can join. Or just watch. Whatever you prefer.”
Woozi’s face lit up like Christmas. “See, hyung? She’s into it!”
Cheolin slowly released Woozi’s neck, looked straight at the ceiling, and muttered in pure defeat:
“…I should’ve stayed celibate.”
Yaaaay, you've reached the end! I really hope y'all enjoyed this haha, i put all my effort on this.
I really really hope you like this. Thanks for all your support, I'll continue to do my best!
I plan to first post a request I received, And then another fic
And lemme spoil the plot for my next fic.
How unlucky did you have to be for your two favorite exes, the ones you really wanted to get back with, to end up together? And without meaning to, they rub it in your face. But things take an unexpected turn when you find them in one of the classrooms after class hours.
Can y'all guess who are the protagonists of this fic? Haha, lmk in the comments!
Sooo guess what? I might publish the Cheolin x f reader fanfic tomorrow, yay!
I had planned a short trip these two weeks with a guy I'm getting to know, but apparently plans changed and he went alone without telling me. Sooo, I locked tf in and I almost finish the fic yaaaay
I've got 26358 words of pure plot, and I guess the smut part will be the same length lol. So, I really really hope y'all like it.
I was really close to changing the plot, but that didn't sit well with many people hahaha, so I kept it in the original narrative, but made a few more "risky" changes. I made the age gap more "problematic" but still legal, and I mean, the whole plot is PROBLEMATIC...Oh, and I'm trying to keep the story from getting too heavy by adding a bit of humor to the situation.
How the hell was it possible that the most innocent person you knew was a fucking degenerate? He, being one of the sweetest and kindest people you've ever met, trespassing on your property, stealing your belongings to give himself some pleasure, is not something you would expect from him.
Girl taste my love every single last drop
Won't be satisfied baby 'til you begging me to stop
Oops, there he go it's that boy again
I mean that cocky motherfucker all he do is win
I mean that ecchi sister lover, kami sama under cover
Fuck around and break that rubber, don't speak of it like Another
Oh, my god, that's too mean
Tgs. Porn w little plot (like just the first 100 words of plot lol), SMUT! MEAN DOM JIHOOON!!!!, kinda pervy jihoon, (they're both pervs?), Unsafe sex (safe sex is great sex y'all), EATIN ASS 🗣️🗣️🗣️ (hmm, I think I might have something for man's ass???), one mention of f*et, messy sex, body fluids, multiple rounds, getting caught!!!, lmk if I missed something
An. I'm open to do a part two of ts haha, so if y'all have a prompt for this part 2 I'll be more than happy to take it! I also wrote this at 3 am so, any mistakes are blamed on my sleep deprivation. And lastly, I'm going to be absent for the next two weeks, so the Pi cheolin release is gonna be delayed, I'm so sorry about that. But I'll be posting it as soon as I can! Take this as a "I'm sorry" hope y'all enjoy!
Remember English is not my first language! I'm so sorry for any grammar mistakes!
Join my taglist!
Make a request!
Masterlist!
“Ugh, this weather is 'bout to fucking kill me.”You said as you took off your clothes one by one, leaving you in a pretty two-piece swimsuit. Then you jumped into the pool, standing besides the owner of the house; Seungcheol. As you settled down next to him, Jun positioned himself next to you, handing you a bottle of beer. “I think I'm in love with you bro.” he chuckled “Of course you are”
The meeting was quite relaxed; almost the entire group was there, only Jihoon was missing, having declined the invitation because he was sick. “It’s a shame Jihoon couldn’t come,” Joshua said, taking a sip from his bottle. “The water is delicious.”“Yeah, feels like paradise,” you agreed, leaning back against the pool edge between Seungcheol and Jun. The water lapped gently at your chest as you stretched your legs out, toes brushing the smooth tiles at the bottom.
“Poor guy,” you said, Jun bumped your shoulder playfully, he changed the conversation suddenly, “You’re glowing today. New swimsuit?” His eyes flicked down for a second before snapping back up, innocent as ever. “Suits you.” “Thanks,” you laughed, splashing him lightly. Joshua swam over from the other side of the pool, shaking water from his hair like a dog. “Seriously, this is the best idea Cheol’s had in months. We should do this every weekend.”
The group chatter flowed easy—talk about upcoming shit, dumb inside jokes, who was winning the impromptu chicken fight happening at the shallow end. You floated there, content, the cold beer and warm water doing wonders for your mood.
“F-Fuck, I hate you, ahhh! So much.” Jihoon was stroking his cock, his sweaty forehead pressed against the cold wall of your apartment. One of his hands clenched one of your panties against his nose, inhaling as much as he could.
Lee Jihoon wasn't sick. Or rather, he was lovesick.
This had become a horrible habit, a habit that had caused him to develop a terrible hatred for himself. Why did he do it? He had never felt the need for sex until he met you. Pretty you, kind you, happy you. You. You. You! Your name escaped his lips in sighs, He could feel tears welling up in his eyes because of all the excitement he felt at that moment. "What will you think of me when you see me like this? Will you let me keep doing this? Will you let me taste you? Will you let me fuck you? Will you stop talking to me? " Were common thoughts by now.
“Ahhhh.... Ahh...Ahhh.... Oh lord! Forgive m-me, Fuck!” Jihoon wasn't religious at all. But he felt he needed to ask someone for forgiveness for the atrocities he was committing.
His lips were trembling, the fabric of your panties so close to his mouth. So close to him... He opened his mouth slowly, and stuck out his trembling tongue, unsure of what he was about to do. He gave a slow and delicious lick to the fabric, where all your essence was concentrated, making him let out a whine of desperation.
So close and yet so far away.
“F-fuck… you’d hate me,” he whispered against the stolen cloth, voice cracking. “You’d never look at me the same way again… but I can’t stop. I can’t—ahh—I need you so bad.” His hips jerked forward, rutting into his fist as he buried his face deeper into your underwear.
Jihoon’s breath hitched violently as his tongue pressed flat against the damp crotch of your panties again, dragging slowly, savoring the faint salty-sweet trace of you that still lingered there. The taste made his cock twitch hard in his fist, a fresh bead of precum sliding over his knuckles.
The entire image he had created of himself, that innocent, repentant man, was replaced by what he truly was: a degenerate.
“Fuck… you taste so good,” he whimpered, voice wrecked. “Even just this… shit, I’m losing my fucking mind.”
His hips snapped forward, fucking into his tight fist with short, desperate thrusts. The wet sound of skin on skin filled your quiet apartment. He could imagine you underneath him instead—legs spread, those pretty panties pushed to the side, your voice moaning his name.
The image made him groan deep in his throat. He stuffed more of the fabric into his mouth, sucking on it like a man starved. His forehead left a sweaty smear on the paint as his rhythm turned brutal.
“Ah—ahh—fuck, I’d ruin you,” he panted around the cloth. “I’d hold you down and fuck you so deep you’d feel me for days. You’d cry and beg and still take every inch like a good girl… My good girl.”
The innocent, soft-spoken Jihoon everyone knew was gone. In his place was this trembling, filthy version that got off on stealing your used panties and fantasizing about corrupting you.
“Gonna cum—gonna cum on your pretty panties again—fuck—!”
His balls tightened, spine locking up as the orgasm started barreling toward him. He pulled your panties from his mouth just enough to press the soaked fabric directly against the swollen head of his cock.
Thick ropes of cum shot across the delicate lace, staining it white. He kept stroking through it, milking every last drop while soft, broken whines spilled from his lips. Your name left him like a prayer and a curse at the same time.
For a few long seconds, only his ragged breathing filled the room.
Then the shame hit like always—crushing, heavy, sickening. He stared down at the mess he’d made on your stolen underwear, thumb absently smearing his cum into the fabric like he was marking it.
“…I’m disgusting,” he whispered, voice cracking. But even as he said it, his spent cock gave a weak twitch in his hand, already showing interest again at the sight of his claim on something so intimately yours.
“Oh no honey, you're not disgusting” He felt cold hands touch his ass, and slide to the tip of his cock, collecting some of his cum, before finding thin fingers tapping against his bottom lip. “Open up baby”
Jihoon froze, every muscle in his body locking up as if struck by lightning. The voice cut through the haze of his post-orgasm shame. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. He was supposed to be alone. You were supposed to be at Seungcheol’s pool party for hours.
“Open up, baby,” you repeated, softer this time, almost coaxing. The nickname made his spent cock twitch again in your other hand.
But those were your fingers, cool and slick with his own cum, pressing against his bottom lip. Your chest brushed his back as you pressed closer, your breath warm against his ear.
His lips parted on a broken, shaky exhale. You didn’t hesitate—two fingers slid past his lips, pushing his own thick release onto his tongue. Salty, bitter, still warm. Jihoon whimpered around them, eyes squeezing shut as humiliation burned through him like fire. Yet his hips jerked forward involuntarily, pushing his softening cock into your palm.
He tried to speak, but it came out as a gagged moan around your fingers. You pulled them free with a wet pop, smearing the remnants across his swollen lips before wiping them on his cheek.
“Mmm… that's it,” you murmured, slowly fucking your fingers in and out of his mouth, spreading his cum across his tongue. “Look at you. So pretty when you’re falling apart. I always wondered how long it would take for you to snap.”
“You… you knew?” His voice was wrecked, barely above a whisper. Tears of shame and overwhelming lust pricked at the corners of his eyes.
You hummed, sliding your hand down his chest, nails lightly scratching over his shirt. “I’ve been finding my panties in weird places for weeks. Sometimes they came back… used. Sometimes they didn’t. At first I thought I was going crazy.” You pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, then bit down gently. “Then I installed a small camera. Imagine my surprise when sweet, shy Jihoon turned out to be such a filthy little thief.”
Jihoon’s knees nearly buckled. The shame was crushing, but the way your hand was lazily stroking his cock—already hardening again despite how sensitive he was—made his head spin.
You chuckled lowly, the sound sending shivers down his spine.“Shhh. I’m not mad, baby.” You squeezed his cock harder, thumb pressing against the slit where fresh precum was already leaking. “I’m actually impressed. You hid it so well. All those soft smiles and gentle words while you were coming in my panties like a desperate pervert. Such a good actor.”
“I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so sorry,” he choked out, even as his hips started rolling into your fist. “I didn’t mean to… I just— I need you so bad it hurts. Every day. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Jihoon’s entire body jolted violently, a high-pitched, broken whine tearing from his throat as your hot, wet tongue circled his tight rim. His hands slapped against the wall for balance, fingers scrabbling uselessly against the paint while his legs trembled.
You got on your knees, and opened up his buttcheeks. “Hmmm, were you expecting visitors, or why is it so clean around here, hm?” you mocked him, and buried your face between his buttocks, devouring him like there was no tomorrow.
He had never felt anything like this. The wet heat, the sheer obscenity of it—your face pressed between his cheeks while you ate him out like you were starving for it. Shame burned through every inch of his body, but his cock betrayed him completely, hardening fully again in seconds, throbbing painfully and leaking a steady drip of precum onto the floor.
“W-wait—! Ahh—fuck, what are you—?!” His voice cracked, the words dissolving into a choked moan when you licked a broad, filthy stripe over his hole again, teasing the sensitive skin before pushing the tip of your tongue inside him.
“N-no—never—ahhh!” Jihoon’s forehead pressed harder against the wall, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth as you fucked your tongue deeper, lapping and sucking with shameless hunger. Every swirl made his cock jump, his balls tightening again far too quickly. “It’s dirty—please, you don’t have to—fuck—!”
You pulled back just enough to speak, voice muffled and dripping with amusement. “So sensitive here… Did my sweet, innocent Jihoon ever let anyone play with his pretty little hole before?” You gave his cheek a sharp slap, then spread him wider, spitting directly on his entrance before diving back in.
Jihoon’s hips jerked forward into your fist, then back against your face, caught between the two overwhelming sensations. He was losing control fast—whimpering, moaning, babbling nonsense while you rimmed him mercilessly.
You laughed against his skin, the vibration pulling another wrecked sound from him. “Dirty? Baby, you’ve been licking my used panties like a desperate slut. You don’t get to talk about dirty.” One of your hands reached around to grab his aching cock, stroking him in time with the thrusts of your tongue.
“You taste so fucking good,” you purred, pulling away for a second to bite the soft flesh of his ass. “All flushed and twitching for me. I could stay here for hours… but I think you’d cum from just this, wouldn’t you?”
He nodded frantically, too far gone to lie. “Y-yes—please— I’m so close already, I can’t— I can’t hold it—”
You stood up suddenly, leaving him empty and aching. Jihoon let out a pathetic, disappointed cry at the loss, but before he could beg, you spun him around and shoved him back against the wall. Your hand wrapped around his throat—not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind him who was in control.
“Look at me.”
His eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide, cheeks streaked with tears and drool. You leaned in and kissed him filthily, shoving your tongue into his mouth so he could taste himself on you. He moaned into the kiss like a man starved, hands hovering at your waist, unsure if he was allowed to touch.
When you pulled back, a string of saliva connected your lips.
“I want you to tell me what you want to do to me, and, if what you say convinces me, I'll let you fuck me into oblivion.”
“I… I don’t know where to start,” he rasped, voice hoarse from all the whining he’d done earlier. His hands finally dared to settle on your hips, fingers digging in like he was afraid you’d vanish.
Jihoon stared at you, chest heaving, his cock throbbing angrily between you both—still slick from your earlier strokes and his own cum. Your hand stayed firm around his throat, thumb brushing his racing pulse. He could smell the faint chlorine from Seungcheol’s pool still clinging to your skin.
Jihoon swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing under your palm. His cock twitched visibly, another bead of precum rolling down the shaft.
You arched a brow, squeezing his throat just a fraction tighter. “Try. Be honest, baby. Tell me every filthy thing you’ve imagined doing to me while you jerked off with my panties.”
“I… I’ve thought about sneaking into your room at night,” he whispered, the words tumbling out faster once they started. “Pin you down while you’re sleeping. Stuff my cock into your mouth and wake you up like that—fucking your throat until you’re choking and crying. I want to see your mascara run while I use you.”
Your lips curved into a slow, satisfied smirk. You rewarded him by sliding your free hand down to stroke his cock again, slow and teasing.
“Keep going.”
His voice cracked, growing more unhinged the longer you stroked him.
Jihoon’s head thunked back against the wall, hips jerking into your fist. “F-fuck… I want to bend you over every surface in this apartment. On the kitchen counter, against the window so anyone could see. I want to spank your ass red and then eat you out until you’re shaking and squirting on my tongue. I’ve dreamed about tasting you fresh, not just your panties—burying my face in your pussy for hours, sucking on your clit until you can’t even say my name right.”
He was panting now, tears slipping down his cheeks again, but his eyes were locked on yours with feverish intensity.
“I want to breed you. Fill you up over and over until my cum is leaking down your thighs and you’re so full it hurts. I want to make you ride me while I hold your hands behind your back, make you bounce on my cock like a desperate little slut until you’re begging me to cum inside. And then… then I want to flip you over and fuck you harder. Ruin you. Mark your neck, your tits, your thighs—bite you, slap your pussy, make you scream my name so loud the neighbors hear.”
“I want to own you. I want you to own me. I want you to use me as your toy whenever you want—make me crawl, make me beg, make me eat my own cum out of your cunt after I fill you. I don’t care how disgusting it is anymore. I just need you. Please… please let me fuck you. I’ll do anything.”
The silence that followed was deafening, only broken by his ragged breathing.
“Then take me, Jihoon,” you said, voice low and commanding. “Show me how much of a depraved little pervert you really are. Fuck me like you’ve been fantasizing.”
You finally released his throat and stepped back, peeling off your swimsuit top and bottoms right there in front of him. His eyes devoured every inch of newly exposed skin. When you were fully naked, you turned, planted your hands on the wall beside him, and arched your back—presenting your ass and dripping pussy like an offering.
Jihoon broke.
He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise, lined up his aching cock, and slammed into you in one brutal thrust. The wet, filthy sound of your bodies connecting echoed through the apartment. You both moaned—his broken and relieved, yours satisfied and teasing.
“You feel even better than I imagined,” he growled against your skin, voice completely different from the shy Jihoon everyone else knew. “Gonna fuck you stupid. Gonna fill this pretty pussy until it’s overflowing. You’re mine now—my dirty secret, my fucking goddess—”
“Fuuuuck— so tight, so wet— shit—!” he gasped, already snapping his hips forward at a punishing pace. Every thrust was deep, desperate, years of repressed obsession pouring out of him. One hand fisted your hair, yanking your head back so he could bite and suck marks into your neck while the other reached around to rub your clit.
Jihoon’s hips snapped forward with a brutal thrust that punched the air out of your lungs. The sweet, shy boy was long gone.
He laughed breathlessly as he felt you pushing back against him, clenching around his cock on purpose. “That’s it, baby. Clench around my fucking cock, show me how much you love this cock, shit—!”
He yanked your head back harder by the hair, forcing your back to arch deeper as he pounded into you. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the apartment, filthy and relentless.
His hand left your clit only to crack down hard on your ass, the sharp smack echoing. You clenched around him involuntarily and he laughed — a low, mocking sound that sent heat rushing through you.
“Fuckin’ finally,” he growled low against your ear. “I was so fucking tired of acting like a saint while I jerked my cock raw to your dirty panties… And finally, here you are, presenting that sloppy cunt like a desperate whore.”
“Yeah? You like that?” Another harsh slap, harder this time. “Of course you do. Walking around in tiny swimsuits, letting the others stare at what’s mine.”
He pulled out almost completely, then slammed back into the hilt in one vicious stroke, grinding deep, making your knees buckle, but he held you up with an iron grip on your hip and hair.
“You like this, don't you?” he snarled, punctuating the demand with another brutal thrust. Then he placed one of his hands on your lower stomach feeling a slight bulge “Fuuuuuck, yes, can you feel me? Feel me rearrange your insides, huh?”
“Y-Yes—” you gasped, barely able to form words as he railed you against the wall.
Jihoon’s grip tightened, bordering on painful. “Pathetic filthy fucking girl.”
He suddenly pulled out with a wet, obscene sound, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing. Before you could even catch your breath, Jihoon spun you around and shoved you down onto your knees in one fluid, rough motion.
The hardwood floor bit into your skin, but the sting was quickly forgotten as his cock — glistening with your juices and still rock hard — bobbed right in front of your tear-streaked face.
“Open that fucking mouth,” he ordered coldly, voice low and dangerous. His usual soft tone was completely gone, replaced by pure dominance.
He tapped the heavy, slick head against your cheek once, twice, then smeared it across your lips and cheekbone, coating your skin with your own arousal.
The second your lips parted, Jihoon didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the back of your head with both hands and shoved his cock straight down your throat in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt until your nose pressed flush against his pelvis.
“Fuuuuck yes…” he groaned deeply, eyes rolling back for a second as your throat convulsed around him. “That’s it. Take every inch, you greedy little whore.”
When you tried to pull back slightly for oxygen, he tightened his grip in your hair, keeping you pinned in place.
He held you there, hips pressed forward, savoring the way your throat spasmed and gagged around his length. Your eyes watered instantly, tears spilling down your cheeks as you struggled for air. Saliva already started dripping from the corners of your stretched lips, running down your chin and onto your tits.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he snarled, looking down at you with dark, lust-drunk eyes. “This is what you wanted, right? you're the one letting me treat you like the dirty cocksleeve you are.”
Every time you choked or gagged hard around him, Jihoon let out a satisfied, mocking chuckle that made your pussy clench around nothing.
He finally pulled back just enough to let you suck in a desperate breath through your nose, only to immediately start fucking your throat with short, ruthless snaps of his hips. The wet, gagging sounds filled the room — gluck, gluck, gluck — each thrust forcing more saliva to spill messily down your chin and neck.
He thrust deeper, holding himself down your throat for a few long seconds, watching your eyes widen and water even more before pulling back again.
“Look at you,” he cooed mockingly, thumb brushing away a tear only to smear it across your cheek with the rest of your spit. “Crying already? So fucking pretty when you’re ruined like this.This is exactly how I imagined you.”
“Fuck— your throat feels even better than I dreamed. So tight. So warm. Keep gagging on it, baby. I want you to remember exactly who owns this mouth now.”
“You have no idea how many times I imagined this,” he growled, voice rough with pleasure as he kept using your mouth. “How many times I came into your panties while fantasizing about fucking you filthy girl.” He picked up the pace, fucking your face harder, the wet sounds growing louder and messier.
Your hands clutched desperately at his ass, nails digging into his skin, but you didn’t push him away. The mixture of degradation and overwhelming lust had you soaking down your own thighs.
“Good fucking girl.”
Jihoon smirked down at you, clearly loving the sight.
He pulled out abruptly from your throat with a wet pop, strings of thick spit connecting your swollen, abused lips to the glistening head of his cock. You gasped and coughed, desperately trying to catch your breath, drool running down your chin.
Before you could even recover, Jihoon hauled you up like you weighed nothing. He threw you over his shoulder in one smooth, possessive motion, his hand gripping your ass tightly as he carried you straight to your bed.
He tossed you onto the bed on your back. You barely had time to bounce once on the mattress before he was on top of you, shoving your legs wide apart with rough hands. In the next breath, he lined up and slammed back inside your dripping pussy with one brutal thrust, bottoming out instantly.
“Eyes on me,” he barked, voice dark and commanding. One hand wrapped firmly around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin as he set a punishing, merciless rhythm. The bed creaked violently beneath you with every savage snap of his hips. “Don’t you fucking look away. I want to watch every second of your face while I ruin this greedy little cunt. Been dreaming about breaking you like this for months.”
“Jihoon— fuck—!” you moaned, voice hoarse from the throat-fucking.
His free hand moved to your chest, pinching your nipple hard between his fingers and twisting until you cried out. Then he slapped the side of your breast, watching it jiggle with dark satisfaction. The sharp sting made your walls clench around his thick cock.
“Yeah? Say my name like that again,” he growled, slapping your tit harder this time. “Louder. Let me hear how pathetic you sound when I’m splitting you open.”
“You’re not leaving this bed until I’ve pumped you full of so much cum it’s leaking out for days,” he snarled against your skin, hips never slowing. “Gonna breed this sloppy pussy like the desperate little breeding slut you are. You want that, don’t you? Want me to fill you until your belly swells, right baby?”
He leaned down, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck, biting hard enough to leave a deep, claiming mark. He sucked on it roughly, then moved lower, leaving another harsh bite on your collarbone.
His thrusts grew even more savage, the head of his cock hammering relentlessly against that perfect gummy spot deep inside you. The wet, filthy sound of your pussy taking every inch filled the room. Jihoon kept one hand tight around your throat while the other slid between your bodies, rubbing your swollen clit with fast, rough circles.
“Cum,” he demanded, voice low and dangerous, eyes locked on yours. “Cum on my cock right fucking now or I’ll pull out and edge you for the next three hours without letting you finish. Now!”
The overwhelming combination of his choking grip, the brutal pace, his filthy words, and the relentless friction on your clit sent you crashing over the edge. Your back arched violently off the bed, walls clamping down around him like a vice as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name brokenly, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes while your whole body shook.
Jihoon didn’t slow down for even a second. He fucked you straight through your orgasm with a wicked, satisfied smirk on his usually innocent face, eyes gleaming with dark pleasure.
“That’s fucking right. Look at you creaming all over my cock like a pathetic whore,” he laughed lowly, still pounding into your oversensitive pussy. “Squeezing me so tight… Did you really think you were in control just because you caught me? Cute.”
“Why you running away, baby?” he asked condescendingly, voice dripping with fake sweetness as he ground his hips in slow, deep circles. “I’m nowhere near done with you yet. You wanted the real me, didn’t you? Now you’re gonna take every fucking inch until I decide you’ve had enough.”
He finally loosened his grip on your throat slightly. The second you tried to squirm away, gasping for air and twitching from overstimulation, Jihoon let out a low, mocking laugh and grabbed your hips with bruising force, yanking you back onto his cock.
He pulled out suddenly, leaving you empty and clenching pathetically around nothing. Before you could whine, he flipped you onto your stomach like a ragdoll and yanked your hips up high, forcing your ass in the air and your face into the sheets.
“Ass up. Face down. That’s the only position you deserve right now.”
He re-entered you in one brutal, punishing thrust, burying himself balls-deep with a groan. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass, and he pressed one of his feet on your head so he could keep you in place as he started fucking you again, using your body like a toy.
“Not yet,” he growled, slapping your ass hard. “You don’t get to cum again until I say so. Hold it.”
But just as you started climbing toward another orgasm, he slowed down deliberately, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in torturously slow.
You whimpered into the mattress, pushing back desperately, but he kept the pace cruelly controlled, edging you mercilessly. Every time your walls started fluttering around him, he pulled out and slapped your soaked pussy hard — once, twice, three sharp, wet smacks that made you jolt and cry out.
He started fucking you faster again, reaching around to rub your swollen clit with rough fingers while his hips snapped against your ass. The pressure built dangerously fast — too fast.
“Pathetic. Look at this sloppy cunt twitching and drooling for me,” he taunted, spreading your cheeks wider so he could watch his cock disappear inside you again. “Slapping your pretty pussy and you just get wetter. Disgusting little slut.”
“Jihoon— please— I’m gonna—”
“No.” He pulled out completely again and delivered two more stinging slaps directly to your pussy, the wet sound obscene. “Hold it. You cum when I tell you to.”
You were shaking, tears soaking the sheets, thighs trembling violently as he edged you over and over. He kept switching between brutal, deep thrusts and cruel denial until you were a sobbing, babbling mess.
Only when he finally decided you’d suffered enough did he slam back in, fucking you with vicious intent.
He angled his hips perfectly, pounding that sensitive spot inside you again, while his fingers rubbed your clit in fast, brutal circles. The pressure exploded.
“Now. Squirt on my cock like a good cumdump. Do it. Make a fucking mess for me.”
You screamed into the mattress as you finally came — hard. Clear liquid gushed out around his cock, soaking his thighs, your thighs, and the sheets in a filthy, squirting mess. Your whole body convulsed, walls clamping down around him like a vice as wave after wave ripped through you.
“Fuuuuck— that’s it!” Jihoon groaned, voice wrecked with pleasure as he kept fucking you through it, drawing out every last drop. “Look at you squirting all over me like a broken faucet. Such a messy, pathetic girl.”
He didn’t stop. He kept pounding into your oversensitive, squirting pussy until your legs completely gave out.
“Gonna fill you up— fuck— take every single drop like the good cumdump you are, you hear me?”With a broken, guttural moan, Jihoon buried himself as deep as possible and came hard, thick ropes of hot cum flooding your spasming cunt. He kept grinding deep, making sure every drop stayed inside you, whispering filthy praises against your sweat-slicked back.
Even after he finished, he stayed buried inside you, one hand lazily stroking your spine while the other kept a possessive grip on your hip. He pressed a deceptively soft kiss between your shoulder blades.
“Take it… take all my cum… gonna breed this sloppy hole until it’s overflowing…”
“…We’re not done yet, baby. Not even close,” he murmured, voice still rough and dark.
He gave your ass a sharp, loud slap that made you clench around his spent cock.
Jihoon let out a dark chuckle at the way your body twitched beneath him, still fluttering and leaking around his cock. He gave your ass another sharp slap, watching the red mark bloom on your skin with satisfaction.
He scooped up the escaping cum with two fingers and shoved them back inside you roughly, fucking his load deep again.
“Stay right fucking there,” he ordered, pulling out slowly. Thick globs of his cum immediately began leaking from your abused hole, dripping down your thighs. The sight made his spent cock twitch with renewed interest.
He started thrusting with purpose — slow and heavy at first, pushing every drop of his release back inside you. The wet, messy sounds were downright filthy as he fucked his cum deeper.
“Look at that… my cum is already trying to run away from your greedy cunt. Can’t have that, you've worked so hard for it!” He pushed his fingers in and out a few more times, making obscene wet squelching sounds before replacing them with his cock again.
“Feel that? That’s me marking what’s mine,” he growled, gripping your hips hard as he picked up speed. “Gonna keep this sloppy pussy stuffed full all night.”
“Fuck— this angle is perfect,” he groaned, eyes locked on where his cock disappeared into your cum-filled cunt. “Can hear how full you are. Listen to it.”
He suddenly pulled out, flipped you onto your back again, and pushed your knees up to your chest, folding you in half. The new position let him sink even deeper. He braced his hands on the back of your thighs and started pounding you with long, powerful strokes, his balls slapping against your ass.
He fucked you harder, the squelching sounds growing louder and wetter with every thrust as his cum was churned into a creamy mess inside you. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto your tits as he used you like a fleshlight.
“You’re gonna take another load,” he panted, voice strained with pleasure. “And then… you’re gonna eat it.”
After a few minutes, he pulled out again and dragged you to the edge of the bed. He stood up, threw your legs over his shoulders, and slammed back in, fucking you while standing. The new height let him hit even deeper, the head of his cock bullying your cervix with every thrust.
It didn’t take long before his rhythm faltered. With a low, animalistic groan, Jihoon buried himself to the hilt and came again, flooding your already full pussy with even more hot cum. He stayed deep, grinding in slow circles to push it as far inside as possible.
When he finally pulled out, a huge rush of mixed cum poured out of you. Without hesitation, Jihoon dropped to his knees, hooked your legs over his shoulders, and buried his face between your thighs.
He ate you out like a man starved — loud, messy, and filthy. His tongue scooped up the creamy mixture of his cum and your juices, sucking loudly on your swollen clit before pushing his tongue inside to fuck more of it out. He moaned against your pussy the entire time, the vibrations making your oversensitive body jerk.
When his mouth was full, he climbed up your body, grabbed your jaw with one hand, and pried your mouth open.
He leaned down and spat the entire filthy mixture straight into your mouth. Some of it landed on your tongue, some on your lips and chin. He didn’t let you close your mouth.
He kissed you right after, shoving his tongue into your mouth to make sure you tasted everything. The kiss was messy, sloppy, and possessive as he tasted himself on your tongue.
“Swallow,” he commanded, eyes dark and intense as he watched. “Show me you’re a good girl and eat every drop of my cum.”
“Look at you… all fucked out and covered in my cum. But guess what?we’re still not done.”
When he finally pulled back, a string of cum and saliva connected your lips. He smirked down at your ruined, tear-streaked face.
He flipped you onto all fours again, lined himself up with your leaking, twitching hole, and pushed back in with a satisfied groan.
Jihoon had completely lost count of how many times he’d made you cum. He’d fucked you in every position he could bend your body into — on your back, on your stomach, riding him, pressed against the wall, and now back on all fours like a bitch in heat.
“I want this mattress ruined by the time I’m finished with you.”
Your mind had gone blank ages ago.
Jihoon laughed darkly behind you, yanking your hips back harder onto his cock. The wet, filthy sounds of his cum being churned inside your overstuffed pussy filled the room.
“J-Jihoon— hah— too much— can’t— mmh—!” Your words slurred together, broken moans and whimpers spilling from your drooling mouth. Your eyes were glassy, unfocused, tears streaked down your flushed cheeks. Every brutal thrust made your tongue loll out slightly, a perfect picture of cockdrunk stupidity.
“Yeah? Can’t what, baby?” he mocked, voice rough and mean as he leaned over your back, biting your shoulder. “Can’t think? Can’t talk? Look at you — drooling all over your own sheets like a brainless little cumslut. My perfect fucktoy.”
He reached around and slapped your swollen, sensitive clit again, making your whole body jerk violently.
“Again,” he growled. “Cum on my cock one more time. Milk me dry.”
“That’s it… that’s my good little cocksleeve,” he groaned, hips losing rhythm as he chased his final release. “Gonna fill you one last time— fuck— take it all—”
You didn’t even have the brain capacity to answer. You just sobbed and shook as another orgasm tore through you, your pussy gushing weakly around him. Your arms finally gave out and you collapsed face-first into the mattress, ass still up like an offering while Jihoon kept fucking you through it.
With a deep, guttural moan, Jihoon slammed in to the hilt and came hard, pumping thick, hot ropes of cum deep into your already overflowing cunt. He kept grinding, making sure every drop stayed inside as your body twitched helplessly beneath him.
You were completely gone — babbling nonsense into the sheets, body limp and trembling, a fucked-out, cockdrunk mess.
“Anyone there?” Seungcheol’s voice cut through the room. “You left your phone at my place. I was heading to get some groceries and thought I’d drop it off—”
Jihoon was just pressing lazy kisses along your spine, still buried deep inside you, when the bedroom door suddenly swung open.
He froze mid-sentence.
The sight hit him all at once: you face-down on the bed, ass still slightly raised, body covered in fresh marks and sweat, cum clearly leaking down your thighs. Jihoon behind you, naked, breathing hard, one hand still gripping your hip possessively as he slowly pulled out. Silence stretched.
Seungcheol’s eyes widened, his grip tightening on the phone in his hand. His mouth opened, then closed. He clearly didn’t know where to look, but his gaze kept dragging back to the scene in front of him.
Jihoon didn’t rush to cover anything. He simply glanced over his shoulder, still kneeling between your spread legs, a faint smirk playing on his lips. His voice came out low and slightly hoarse.
“…Convenient timing, hyung.”
Seungcheol exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t— fuck. I’ll just… leave the phone.” But he didn’t move. His eyes flicked to you again — the way you were still trembling, barely coherent, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy.
Jihoon reached down and lazily pushed two fingers into your leaking cunt, stirring the mess he’d left behind. His eyes never left Seungcheol’s.
You let out a soft, broken sound, too out of it to feel real embarrassment, your body instinctively clenching around nothing now that Jihoon had pulled out.
“You can leave it on the table,” he said calmly, almost too casually. “Or...”
Seungcheol’s jaw tightened. And walked towards the scene. Sitting besides you, caressing your hair. “You okay there? Can you give us an extra round?”
Soo... This is not my best work tbh, I'm kinda disappointed of how this turned out, but anyway, hope y'all liked it??
Reblogs, and comments are really appreciated, love you all!
Remember my requests r open, if you want to drop something in the meantime I'm gnna be off here. I also want to thank you for all the support for "hand me a towel", I remember when I used to write stuff in my mother language and it didn't reach nobody lol, this support from all of you makes me so happy! So thank you so much!
the discontentment with dino's album is truly appalling bc i'm failing to see where this is even a fraction of the problem some of these people are making it out to be. everyone wants fresh and fun till it breaks the norm in a very non intrusive way, this is not the first time an alter ego has been used in music, or in Kpop. in fact I think its a really clever way around the uneven pairings and it's putting a genuinely refreshing twist that isn't manufactured just for this album.
also. I don't wanna hear JACK shit bc the way Wait was done dirty is something I'll never forget. people want something to be mad at and it shows bc it's anarchy anytime someone steps outside of the box. and again, HES BARELY TOEING OUT OF IT IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!!! future of Kpop this future of Kpop that please do not speak if you can't handle the change being the future brings
DK and Mingyu are both head-over-heels for Boo Youmi, constantly begging and pleading for a chance with her. No matter how hard they try, she gently turns them down every time. They’ve begun to suspect she already has someone… and they’re so right!
Youmi is madly in love with you, her best friend — her very first and only crush. You’re the prettiest, kindest girl in her eyes, and she’s completely captivated. What you don’t realize is how deeply her feelings run. You joke about her being your “girlfriend,” kiss her cheek, hold her hand, invite her for sleepovers, and even flash her playfully from time to time. To you, it’s all harmless fun between best friends.
And Youmi is losing her mind.
Tgs. Porn with ALMOST NO PLOT, SMUT! Lesbian sex 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤, fingering, youmi calls herself "mommy", edging, overstimulation?, squirting, oral sex, scissoring, dirty talk, ummm I think that's all, lmk if I missed something.
An. It's this a safe space to say that it's been a FUCKING while since I fucked. And I kinda feel like I'm horny af and that's why I'm writing a bunch of sex.
First of all I want to say that I'm so so so so sorry for adding almost no plot to this 😓 (I need desperately a bf/gf, anything????) I was also debating if I should make Youmi like a trans girl? (From male to female) But I said 'fuck it' let's make this super gay and horny, and wrote lesbian sex for the first time in my life, let me know what you think in the comments... Also this was an idea given by @aaniag TYSM for supporting and giving me this amazing idea!!! Hope y'all like it!.
Btw... TYSM for all the support given to Hand me a towel, it really means the world to me!!! Also, remember my requests r open!
Also, if you want to join my taglist tap here!
DK was on his knees—literally—clutching Boo Youmi’s hand like it was a lifeline.“Just one date, Youmi-ya. One. I'll be everything you want, I'll do everything you ask me to,” he begged, eyes wide and sparkling with that signature DK charm. Beside him, Mingyu leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to look cooler but failing when his foot tapped nervously.
“Don't listen to him, I’ll cook for you every day for a month,” Mingyu added, voice dropping into that deep register he thought was irresistible. “Steak, pasta, whatever you want. Please?”
Youmi laughed softly, the sound gentle but firm as she pried her hand free and ruffled DK’s hair like he was a puppy. “You two are really nice and I’m really flattered, but… I’m sorry. I can’t.”
The two men groaned in unison, dramatic as always, collapsing onto the couch like they’d been shot. Youmi just smiled that same patient, kind smile she always gave them—the one that somehow made the rejection hurt less and more at the same time.
From the doorway, you watched the whole thing with a half-empty bag of snacks in your arms, trying not to laugh too loudly. Youmi’s eyes found yours immediately. The way her expression softened, the subtle way her shoulders relaxed… it was instant. Like you were the only good thing in the room.
“Saved by my girlfriend,” Youmi teased as she walked over, slipping her arm around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. She pressed a quick kiss to your temple, lingering just a second longer than necessary. To you, it was just playful best-friend stuff. To her, it was oxygen.
DK clutched his chest. “Ugh. Rub it in, why don’t you.”
“You two should just date each other already,” you joked, bumping Youmi’s hip with yours. “Solve everyone’s problems.”
Mingyu muttered “unfair advantages, and why would I date Seokmin, ew” he said while DK threw a pillow at you. You dodged it easily, laughing, and dragged Youmi toward your room down the hall. “I'm stealing her, it's our sleepover time.”
Youmi let you pull her away without protest, waving half-heartedly at the two sulking boys. The moment you stepped out the front door of the house, the sharp night chill wrapped around both of you. She instinctively stepped closer, shoulder brushing yours as you hurried down the driveway toward your car.
As you pulled Youmi away, you didn't notice the way Mingyu and DK exchanged a sudden, knowing look behind your backs. Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck, sighing softly.
“She really has no idea, does she?”Seokmin muttered, his dramatic posture dropping into genuine pity as he watched Youmi follow you like a sunflower turning toward the sun. “None,” Mingyu sighed, shaking his head. “Poor Youmi. She's fighting a losing battle against a girl who thinks a fake girlfriend title is just a joke.”
Both doors clicked shut behind you, sealing out the cold. You exhaled loudly, rubbing your hands together before pushing the key into the ignition.
“That party was ass, don’t you think?” you groaned, turning the heat on full blast.
Youmi hummed in agreement, leaning her head back against the seat. “Yeah...” Her voice was soft, almost distracted.
The ride home was quiet, but comfortable. Streetlights washed over her face in slow golden waves as you drove. You kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the center console. After a few minutes, you reached over and laced your fingers with hers without thinking twice—just like you always did.
Youmi’s breath caught.
She stared down at your intertwined hands, your thumb absently stroking the back of hers. The simple touch sent heat rushing through her chest, tight and aching. Every time you did things like this—so casually, so innocently—it felt like you were twisting the knife deeper without even realizing it.
How do you not see it? she thought, biting the inside of her cheek. How can you hold my hand like this, call me your girlfriend in front of everyone, kiss my cheek, flash me that pretty smile… and still think it’s just ‘best friend’ stuff?
She squeezed your hand back. You didn’t seem to notice the difference, only smiled softly and kept driving, humming along to the faint music playing through the speakers.
The silence stretched. Youmi’s gaze drifted to your profile—your focused eyes on the road, the gentle curve of your lips, the way your hair fell against your neck. Her heart clenched so hard it hurt. She wanted to say it. Right now. Pull the car over, cup your face, and finally confess how completely, pathetically in love she was.
But the fear of ruining this—of losing the sleepy cuddles, the playful kisses on the cheek, the way you dragged her into your bed for movie marathons—kept her mouth shut.
For now.
When you finally pulled into the driveway of your apartment, you turned off the engine but didn’t let go of her hand right away. Instead, you turned to her with that bright, effortless smile.
“Shower first, then face masks and snacks? I bought those strawberry ones you like.” Youmi nodded “…Yeah. Sounds perfect.”
She was one more casual touch away from breaking.
Youmi sat on the edge of your bed, watching as you stripped off your hoodie without a second thought, tossing it aside. Your tank top rode up as you stretched, exposing the underside of your boobs, of course, you were not wearing a bra. She swallowed hard, fingers tightening in the blanket.
“You really turned them down again?” you asked, grinning as you flopped beside her. “They’re gonna fuck each other outta desperation at this rate.”
She shrugged, eyes tracing the curve of your neck, the way your hair fell across your shoulder. “They’re sweet. But they’re not…” Her voice trailed off.You turned onto your side, propping your head on your hand, completely unaware of how close your faces were. “Not what?”
Youmi’s gaze dropped to your lips for half a second before flicking back up. Her heart hammered so loudly she was sure you could hear it. Every casual touch, every sleepy cuddle during movie nights, every time you jokingly called her “baby” or “my girl”… it had been piling up for months. Years, really. Since the very first time you’d grabbed her hand and declared her your favorite person in the world.
She was running out of gentle deflections. Running out of ways to pretend this was still just friendship.You reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, thumb brushing her cheek. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”
Youmi closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo and the faint sweetness of the lip balm you always wore. Her control frayed another dangerous inch.
How much longer can I do this?
“Y-yeah, they’re just… not my type,” Youmi answered, you arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. You shifted closer on the bed, your tank top clearly wasn't hiding much. Youmi could clearly see your hardened niples, and it was driving her crazy.Youmi had to force her eyes upward.
“Now that I think about it,” you said, tilting your head, “you’ve never told me what your type is? I haven’t even been able to find out about any of your boyfriends in all these years we’ve been friends. That’s kinda suspicious, Youmi-ya.”
Youmi let out a weak laugh, trying to play it off. “It’s not suspicious. I’m just… private.”
You hummed, unconvinced, and suddenly sat up on your knees. Without warning, you peeled your tank top off completely, tossing it toward the hamper in the corner, then standing up heading to your clóset to find another shirt that was more comfortable. Youmi’s brain blue-screened for a second at the sight of your bare skin, the way your breasts moved freely as you stretched your arms above your head with a satisfied little groan.
“God, that feels better. That party made me all sticky,” you muttered casually after coming back with a white shirt that covered half your ass, 'cause of course you were only wearing some panties, like it was nothing. Then you turned back to her with that bright, innocent smile. “So? Tell me. What’s your type? I need details.”
Youmi’s fingers dug harder into the blanket. She could feel her face heating up. “I… I like someone who’s kind. Someone I feel comfortable with. Who makes me laugh without trying.”
You nodded eagerly, crawling a little closer until you were right beside her again. Your shoulder brushed against her as you reached out and tucked that same strand of hair behind her ear again, your fingers lingering this time, tracing down the side of her neck slowly.“Mhm, mhm. Go on,” you encouraged, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Height? Style? Personality?”
Every light touch felt electric to Youmi. Your scent, the warmth of your skin so close, it was too much. She swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to pull you into her lap right then.“I… I like girls who are confident,” she managed. “Girls who aren’t afraid to be themselves. Who are… really pretty without even realizing it.”
You grinned, clearly pleased. “Ooh, so you do like girls. That makes sense.” You flopped back onto the bed beside her, stretching out on your side so you were facing her directly. One of your legs casually draped over hers, your bare thigh pressing warmly against her.
Youmi short-circuited again.
You didn’t seem to notice. Instead, you reached out and started playing with the hem of Youmi’s shirt, fingers idly brushing the skin just above her waistband.
“So… anyone specific?” you asked softly, voice teasing now. “You can tell me, you know. I’m your girlfriend,” you added with a playful wink, using the nickname you always threw around so carelessly.
Your fingers kept tracing lazy patterns on her stomach, innocent little circles that made Youmi’s breathing turn shallow. She could feel her pulse hammering between her legs. Every casual touch, every time you called yourself her girlfriend, chipped away at her sanity.
She wanted to grab your wandering hand. Pin it above your head. Kiss you until you finally understood what you did to her.
Instead, she whispered hoarsely, “Yeah… there’s someone.”
Your eyes lit up with excitement. You scooted even closer, practically pressing your body against hers now, your chest brushing her arm as you propped yourself up on one elbow.“Tell me everything,” you demanded cutely, lips curved in that sweet, dangerous smile.
Youmi closed her eyes for a second, breathing in your scent, feeling the heat of your skin against hers.
Youmi stared down at you. Your eyes were wide and glittering with pure, unadulterated curiosity, totally blind to the absolute wreckage you were causing inside her. Your hand was still resting casually on her hip, your bare thigh draped over hers, heavy and warm. You looked so soft, so completely trusting—and so devastatingly beautiful in nothing but that """"oversized"""" white shirt and panties.
“Tell you?”Youmi’s voice was barely a whisper, a ragged sound that caught in her throat. “Yeah! Come on, Youmi-ya,” you pouted, shifting your weight slightly. The movement caused your chest to brush against her arm again, “We don't keep secrets. Who is she? Do I know her?” “You know her,” Youmi said. The words slipped out before she could stop them.
You gasped, your face lighting up even more as you hooked your chin on her shoulder, bringing your lips dangerously close to her ear. “I do?! Is it someone from the party? Wait... is it someone from the company? Tell me, tell me!”
That was it. The final thread of Youmi’s control snapped. The careless playing, the oblivious teasing, the way you could casually strip in front of her and throw around words like girlfriend without understanding the agonizing reality of what that meant to her—it was too much. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't pretend for another second. Before your brain could even process the sudden shift in the room's energy, Youmi reached down and grabbed your wrist. Her grip wasn't painful, but it was firm, completely halting the lazy, teasing circles your fingers had been tracing on her skin.
“Youmi?” you blinked, your playful smile faltering slightly at the sudden seriousness in her eyes. “Stop,” she breathed, her voice dropping into a register you had never heard from her before. It wasn't the gentle. Desperate. You shifted, suddenly hyper-aware of how close your bodies were, how little clothing you were wearing, and how hot Youmi's skin felt where it touched yours. “What's wrong? I was just joking around—” “That's the problem,” Youmi interrupted, her voice trembling as she looked down at your intertwined wrists. She slowly leaned over you, trapping you beneath her gaze. “You're always joking. You call me your girlfriend. You hold my hand in the car. You crawl into my bed, you kiss my cheek, you do... this...” Her eyes flicked down to your bare legs tangled with hers, then back up to your eyes. “...and it's just a game to you.” Your breath hitched. The excitement in your chest suddenly flipped into a flutter of nervous, racing heartbeats. “Youmi, we're best friends, I just—”
“She’s short,” Youmi interrupted again, her gaze dropping to your lips, her breathing shallow and uneven. “She has the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen. She drives me crazy because she doesn't think before she speaks, and she has absolutely no idea what she does to me when she looks at me.” Your heart hammered against your ribs, a sudden, wild realization finally piercing through your obliviousness. The warmth of her body hovering over yours suddenly felt entirely different. It felt so, intimate “Youmi-ya...” you whispered, your voice losing all its playful edge. Your eyes widened as you looked up at her
“It's you,”
Youmi confessed, the words pouring out like a broken dam, her voice cracking with the sheer agony of keeping it in for so long. She let go of your wrist, only for her hand to slide up to your face, her thumb gently but firmly pressing against your lower lip. “It’s been you for years. So please... stop calling yourself my girlfriend unless you actually mean it. Because I am breaking, and I can't keep pretending this is just 'best friend' stuff.” The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your matching, ragged breaths.
Before you could respond, she caught your wrist again, pinning it gently but firmly above your head. Her other hand slid down your side, claiming every inch she touched.
“Youmi…” you breathed, heart racing.
“Shh.” She leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “You’ve teased me for years. Walking around in nothing but tiny shirts and panties, calling yourself my girlfriend, flashing me those pretty tits like it’s nothing… You have no idea how many nights I’ve laid awake next to you, soaked and aching, forcing myself not to touch you.”
Her hand slipped under the hem of your white shirt, palm hot against your stomach.
“Now you’re going to be good for me.” Her voice dropped even lower, possessive edge sharpening every word. “Strip for me, baby. Slowly. Show me what’s always been mine.”
You swallowed hard, cheeks burning. The shift in her was dizzying — gentle Youmi suddenly sounding so hungry, so in control. But the heat between your legs only grew.
Shakily, you sat up when she released your wrist. Youmi leaned back on her knees, watching you with dark, unwavering eyes as you grabbed the bottom of your shirt.
“That’s it,” she murmured, licking her lips. “Take it off for me. Let me see those pretty tits I’ve been dying to taste.”
You pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it aside, bare from the waist up. Your nipples were already hard, flushed under her stare. Youmi’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move to touch you yet.
“Panties too,” she commanded softly, voice thick. “Stand up first. Let me look at you.”
You stood on slightly unsteady legs right beside the bed. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, you slowly slid them down your thighs, stepping out of them. Youmi drank in every inch — your breasts, the curve of your waist, the slick shine between your thighs.
“Fuck… look at you,” she groaned, one hand fisting the sheets like she was physically holding herself back. “So pretty. So fucking wet already, and I haven’t even touched you yet. All this time you’ve been mine and you didn’t even know it. Give me a little spin, baby. Let me have a look at that gorgeous ass.” you did as you were told.Ane she reached out, but only to tug you back onto the bed, laying you down on your back. Then she climbed over you, fully clothed still, caging you in.
Youmi’s hand finally slid between your thighs, two fingers gliding through your soaked folds. You gasped sharply.
“So messy for me already,” she whispered hotly against your neck, nipping the skin. “This pussy has been teasing me for years. Every time you cuddled up to me in bed, every time you bent over in those tiny shorts… it was always mine. Say it.”
“It’s yours,” you whimpered as her fingers circled your clit slowly, deliberately.
“Louder, baby.” She pressed one finger inside you, curling it just right. “Tell me who this pretty cunt belongs to.”
“You, Youmi, it belongs to you, oh shit.” you moaned, hips twitching.
“Good girl.” She added a second finger, pumping them deeper while her thumb rubbed firm circles on your clit. Her mouth latched onto your breast, sucking hard on your nipple before switching to the other, leaving faint marks. Possessive. Claiming.
You reached for her instinctively, but she caught your wrist again and pinned it back above your head.
“No touching,” she growled softly against your skin. “You’ve had me suffering for so long… now you’re going to lie there and take everything Mommy gives you. Understand?”
You nodded frantically, another moan spilling out as she thrust her fingers faster.
“Look at me,” she demanded. You met her eyes, hazy with pleasure. “I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you it hurts. And from now on, no more games. No more ‘just best friends.’ You’re my girlfriend for real. My girl. Mine to touch, mine to fuck, mine to love.”
Her fingers curled perfectly against that spot inside you while her thumb kept working your clit. The possessiveness in her voice, the way she watched your face like she owned every reaction — it pushed you right to the edge embarrassingly fast.
“Youmi- Yo-youmi- I’m gonna-!”“Come for me, baby,” she breathed, kissing you deeply, almost desperately. “Nuh-uh” she pulled out her fingers, making you whimper by the sudden loss, “W-why? Yo-youmi, I was, I was so close.” your tone was desperate.
Youmi’s lips curved into a wicked, barely-restrained smile as she watched your face twist in desperation, hips chasing her hand pathetically after she pulled her fingers away.
“Aww, baby… were you really about to cum that fast?” she cooed, voice dripping with mock sympathy. She brought her glistening fingers to your lips and pushed them inside your mouth. “Suck. Taste how pathetic and needy you are for me.”
You whimpered around her fingers, tasting yourself while she slowly fucked them in and out of your mouth.
“You don’t get to cum yet,” she whispered, leaning down to bite your collarbone, leaving another mark. “Not after years of torturing me. You’re going to lay there like a good girl and let Mommy play with her pretty pussy until I’m satisfied.”
She slid her fingers back between your thighs, this time pushing three inside you in one smooth thrust. The stretch made you cry out, back arching. Youmi curled them perfectly against that sensitive spot and started pumping slowly, torturously, while her thumb barely brushed your swollen clit — just enough to keep you on the edge without letting you fall.
Every time your moans got louder and your walls started fluttering around her fingers, she slowed down or pulled back completely, leaving you whining and trembling.
“Pleaseeee- Youmi, please, I can’t, just, let me, let me cum, I, I can't!”
“You can,” she growled, sucking hard on your nipple until it was swollen and sensitive. “You’ll take everything Mommy gives you, sweetie. This cunt is mine to edge, mine to tease, mine to ruin.”
She kept you like that for what felt like forever.“Look at you… dripping all over my hand. Such a messy little slut for your "best friend", huh? All those times you flashed me and called me your girlfriend… you were just begging to be fucked like this, weren’t you?”
Youmi’s fingers slowed to a torturous crawl inside you, curling just enough to press against that spongy spot that made your toes curl, but never fast enough, never hard enough. Your hips bucked desperately, chasing the friction, but she simply pinned your thigh down with her free hand and tsked softly.“Shhh, baby. No rushing Mommy,” she murmured, voice low and velvet-rough against your ear. Her lips brushed your jaw, then trailed wet kisses down your neck, sucking another bruise into your skin like she wanted the whole world to see it tomorrow. “You look so fucking pretty like this—spread open, dripping, crying for me. All mine.”
You whimpered around the taste of yourself still lingering on your tongue, eyes glassy as you stared up at her. The contrast was dizzying: Youmi fully dressed, calm and in control, while you lay beneath her completely naked, trembling, and aching so badly it hurt.
“Please… Mommy,” you tried, the word slipping out shy and broken. It made her eyes darken instantly.
“Fuck, say that again.”
“Mommy, please let me cum,” you begged, voice cracking. “I’ll be so good, your good girl. Just please, pleaseee!”
Youmi rewarded you by thrusting her three fingers deeper, scissoring them open to stretch you wider. Your back arched hard off the bed, a loud moan tearing from your throat. She watched your face hungrily, drinking in every twitch, every flutter of your walls around her.
But the second your breathing turned ragged and your clit started throbbing under her lazy thumb, she pulled back again—completely this time. You sobbed at the empty feeling, hips jerking uselessly into the air.
“You’re not cumming until I’ve had my fill of this,” she said, sliding down your body. She settled between your spread thighs, pushing them wider apart with strong hands. Her breath ghosted over your soaked pussy and you shivered violently. “Years, baby. I’ve wanted to taste you for years.”
Then her mouth was on you. Youmi licked a long, slow stripe up your folds, moaning at your taste like it was the best thing she’d ever had. Her tongue circled your clit before sucking it gently between her lips. Two fingers pushed back inside you immediately, pumping in a steady rhythm while she devoured you.
“Oh my god- Youmi,fuck-” Your hands flew to her hair, gripping tight.
She pulled off,“Hands above your head. Now. Or I stop.”
You obeyed instantly, fisting the sheets instead. She hummed in approval and dove back in, eating you out like she was starving. The wet, obscene sounds of her tongue and fingers filled the room, mixed with your broken moans and whimpers.
Every time you got close, thighs shaking around her head, she slowed down or switched to soft kitten licks until the edge faded. Then she’d suck hard on your clit again and curl her fingers just right, bringing you right back to the brink.
Tears pricked your eyes. “Mommy, I can’t- I need to cum, pleasepleaseplease!”Youmi looked up at you from between your legs, lips shiny with your slick, eyes blown wide with lust and love. She added a third finger again, stretching you deliciously, and spoke against your pussy.
“You can take it. You’re going to take everything I give you tonight. And when I finally let you cum, you’re going to scream my name so loud the neighbors know exactly who this pussy belongs to.”
She sealed her mouth around your clit and sucked hard, fingers fucking into you faster, deeper. Your whole body tensed, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your legs started shaking uncontrollably.
You were so close—right there— and Youmi pulled away completely again.
You let out a wrecked sob, body collapsing against the bed as another orgasm was cruelly denied. She crawled back up your body, kissing your stomach, your breasts, your neck, until her face hovered over yours.
“Look at me, baby.”
You did, eyes wet and desperate. “I love you,” she whispered, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself on her tongue. “I love you so much it fucking hurts. And I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”
She reached down and pushed four fingers inside you this time—slow, careful, but insistent. The stretch burned so good you keened, head falling back.
“That’s it… open up for Mommy. Such a greedy little cunt.”
Her thumb found your clit again, rubbing tight, fast circles while her fingers worked you open. This time she didn’t stop. She kept the pace brutal and perfect, mouth latching onto your nipple and biting down gently. Your orgasm crashed into you without warning. You screamed her name—loud, broken, “Youmi- Mommy, fuuuuck—!” Your walls clamped down around her fingers, gushing around them as waves of pleasure ripped through you. She didn’t stop, fucking you through it, drawing it out until you were shaking and oversensitive.
Even then, she kept her fingers buried deep, kissing you slow and deep while you came down.
When you finally stopped trembling, she pulled her fingers out gently and brought them to your mouth again.
“Clean them,” she ordered softly.
You obeyed, sucking obediently, eyes hazy with bliss.Youmi smiled, brushing damp hair from your forehead.
“Good girl. But we’re not done.” She kissed the corner of your mouth, voice dropping back into that possessive growl. “Turn over, baby. Ass up. Mommy wants to see how many times she can make her girlfriend cum tonight.”
Youmi’s eyes gleamed with dark hunger as you obediently rolled over onto your stomach and pushed yourself up onto your knees, ass raised high for her. Your face pressed into the sheets, still trembling from the aftershocks of your first orgasm. She ran her palms possessively over your ass, squeezing the soft flesh before spreading you open.
“Look at this pretty pussy… still twitching and dripping for Mommy,” she murmured, voice thick. Without warning, she pushed three fingers back inside you, fucking you deep and fast from behind. Her other hand reached around to rub your swollen clit in tight, merciless circles.
You cried out, oversensitive and raw, but she didn’t slow down.
“Too much—Youmi—Mommy, please—!”
“You can take it,” she growled, leaning over your back and biting your shoulder. “You’re going to cum again like this. Gonna make a mess all over my hand like the needy little slut you are.”
Her fingers curled brutally against your g-spot with every thrust, the wet sounds obscene as she worked you harder. The overstimulation bordered on pain, but the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter until your whole body locked up.
You screamed into the mattress as you came again—harder this time. Your pussy clenched violently around her fingers, and a sudden gush of wetness sprayed out around them, soaking her hand, your thighs, and the sheets beneath you.
Youmi moaned loudly in satisfaction, not stopping even as you squirted. She kept fucking you through it, drawing out every pulse until your legs gave out and you collapsed flat on the bed, shaking and sobbing with pleasure.
“Fuck, baby… such a good girl. Look at the mess you made,” she praised, finally pulling her fingers out. She rubbed your soaked pussy gently, almost soothingly, while you twitched and whimpered. “My perfect, messy girlfriend.”
Youmi sat back on her heels and peeled her shirt off slowly, revealing smooth skin and a simple black bra. Your hazy eyes followed every movement.
“Turn around and undress me,” she ordered softly, voice laced with need. “Use your mouth and hands. Show Mommy how much you want this.”
Still trembling, you crawled to her on shaky limbs. You kissed her stomach first, then worked her bra clasp open with clumsy fingers, letting her full breasts spill free. You latched onto one nipple immediately, sucking and licking while your hands pushed her pants and panties down her hips. Youmi lifted up to help you, kicking them aside until she was finally naked.
She looked breathtaking—flushed, wet, and aching for you.
Youmi threaded her fingers through your hair and guided your face between her thighs as she leaned back against the headboard. “Eat my pussy, baby. Make Mommy feel good.”
You dove in eagerly, licking broad stripes through her slick folds, moaning at her sweet taste. Youmi’s head fell back with a groan, hips rolling against your tongue. You sucked on her clit, then pushed your tongue inside her, fucking her with it while your nose brushed her clit.
“Yes—fuck, just like that,” she gasped, gripping your hair tighter. “You’re so good for me… my pretty girl finally eating Mommy’s cunt like she was born for it.” You licked and sucked messily, drunk on her taste and the sounds she made. When she started grinding harder against your face, you slid two fingers inside her, curling them while you focused on her clit. Youmi’s thighs began to shake around your head.
“Don’t stop— I’m close—!”
She came with a broken moan of your name, flooding your tongue. You kept licking her through it until she gently pushed your head away, breathing hard.
Youmi pulled you up into a deep, filthy kiss, tasting herself on your lips. Then she reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a thick, curved strap-on, buckling it around her hips with practiced ease. The sight made your spent pussy clench.
“On your back, legs spread,” she commanded, voice rough with lingering pleasure. “I need to fuck my girlfriend properly. I’ve waited years to feel you. I want you against me. Skin on skin.”
She climbed back over you, kissing you deeply as she maneuvered your bodies. Youmi lay on her back and pulled you on top of her, then gently guided you into position until your legs were tangled, your soaked pussy pressed flush against hers. The moment your slick, swollen folds met, both of you moaned loudly at the wet, intimate contact.
“Fuuck… feel that?” Youmi breathed, hands gripping your hips tightly. “So wet and hot for me.”
She rolled her hips upward, sliding her pussy against yours in a slow, deliberate grind. The slick friction of her clit rubbing directly against yours sent sparks shooting through your body. You whimpered, bracing your hands on her chest as you started moving with her, finding a rhythm.
Youmi’s head fell back against the pillow, lips parted. “That’s it, baby… grind on Mommy’s pussy. Just like that.”
The room filled with the obscene, wet sounds of your pussies sliding together—messy, slippery, and desperate. Every roll of her hips made her clit catch perfectly against yours, sending jolts of pleasure through both of you. Youmi’s hands roamed your body possessively, squeezing your ass, pulling you harder against her, then sliding up to cup and knead your breasts.
You leaned forward, bracing yourself so your tits brushed against hers with every movement. The new angle made your clits rub even more intensely. Youmi moaned louder, her thighs trembling beneath you.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” she gasped, eyes dark and locked on your face. “Look at me while you fuck me like this.”
You kept your gaze on hers, panting and whimpering as the pleasure built rapidly. The slick heat, the constant pressure on your overstimulated clit, and the raw intimacy of scissoring with her had you shaking again within minutes.
“Youmi—Mommy—I’m gonna cum again—”
“Me too,” she groaned, hips moving faster, grinding harder. “Cum with me, baby. Let me feel this pretty pussy cum all over mine.”
She pulled you down into a messy, desperate kiss, tongues sliding together as your movements turned frantic. The coil in your belly snapped first. You cried out into her mouth as your orgasm crashed over you, thighs shaking violently while your pussy pulsed and gushed against hers.
The feeling of you cumming pushed Youmi over the edge right after. She moaned brokenly, nails digging into your hips as she pressed up hard, grinding through her own climax. Wetness mixed between you, soaking both your thighs and the sheets even more.
You collapsed on top of her, both of you breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat and cum. Youmi wrapped her arms around you tightly, kissing the top of your head, your temple, then your lips—soft and reverent now.
“I love you,” she whispered against your mouth, voice hoarse but full of emotion. “My girlfriend. Finally mine.”
You smiled tiredly, nuzzling into her neck. “Yours… I love you too, Youmi-ya.”
She stroked your back gently, holding you close as your breathing slowly evened out. After a few minutes, she pressed one more kiss to your forehead.
“Rest for a bit, baby. Because Mommy’s nowhere near done playing with you tonight.”
“A-are you sure you want this?” I asked her, and felt his small hand in the middle of my back, forcing me to arch it further, I guess that was the answer I asked for. The position was uncomfortable; I felt vulnerable. I wasn't completely naked yet, but wearing only a shirt, and being on all fours with my ass in the air. That was enough to make me feel completely naked.
“Hmm... I think I need to remind you, you were the one that asked for this boo” I felt her soft and warm breath near where I needed it most. His hands moved to the sides of my ass, spreading it open a little. I let out a small moan in response, moving my hips slightly trying to accommodate myself. “Shit..” I heard her muttered.
And finally, An uncomfortable, yet very pleasant sensation washed over me, the softness of her tongue gave the first lick to my hole. And then another. And another. And another. Just like kitten licks. The sensation was incomparable; I could hear her moaning as she did it, and that turned me on so much more.
“You taste so fucking good...Fuck—” I didn’t let her finish the sentence. My hand shot back, fingers tangling in her hair as I pressed her face deeper between my cheeks. “Don’t f-fucking stop, keep going, ju-just like that, mmmm”
She let out a muffled, half moan, half laugh, but obeyed. Her tongue flattened against my hole, licking broader, wetter strokes now, no longer just teasing kitten licks.
Every pass sent sparks shooting up my spine. I could feel her spit dripping down, sliding toward my balls, making everything slick and messy.“Fuuuck… just like that baby, yesyesyesyesyesyes” I whimpered, pushing back against her mouth.
Her hands gripped my cheeks harder, spreading me wider. Then her tongue stiffened and pushed inside; just the tip at first, circling my rim before dipping in. The stretch was small but so pleasant, and I couldn’t hold back the broken moan that tore from my throat.
She pulled back for a second, gasping for air. “You’re so fucking tight...” The words made my cock twitch hard, leaking onto the sheets beneath me. Before I could even think of a reply, she dove back in, fucking her tongue deeper, more insistently. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room; her moaning into my ass, the slick glide of her tongue, my own desperate little gasps.
I turned my head slightly to see her, or catch a glimpse of her at least, my cheek pressing into the mattress, hips rolling back to meet every thrust of her tongue. “More... please, fuck—don’t stop...” She murmured onto my hole, the vibration shooting straight through me, so I moved my hips back more for her.
One of her hands slid between my legs, fingers brushing teasingly over my aching cock before wrapping around it in a loose, torturous grip “Gonna cum just like this” she hummed as an answer against my hole “With your- fucking, ahh, tongue buried in your ass and my cock dripping in your hand. You want that, baby, hmm?”
I could feel her nodding frantically, too overwhelmed to form words -not that she was capable of-. Every slow stroke of her hand, every filthy swirl of her tongue was pushing me closer to the edge, and I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer.
I pushed her away abruptly; I could see the confusion on her face. I didn't pay much attention and settled onto my back, sitting up slightly to put my hand behind her head and kiss her, sloppy and messy, spit dripping down our chins. I lay back down and with my hand pushed her down once more. “I want to come while looking at your beautiful face, and I want you to swallow all my cum” She looked at me with those doe-pretty eyes, almost shining. Half of her face was covered by my dick. I grabbed my cock at the base and tapped her face. "Get back to work, beautiful, hmm” She nodded, placing my legs over her shoulders and plunging her tongue back into my hole, while looking into my eyes, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck, like that, yes, fuck, just like that” I could feel my eyes rolling back, my breath becoming more ragged. And, “Ahhh! Shit! Yessssssssss” One of her fingers invaded my hole, filling me, without stopping making out with my hole. Unconsciously one of my hands went to my cock, starting to pump it in a not-so-coordinated rhythm.
I could see the mischief in her eyes, how much she was enjoying it. “Shitshitshitshitshitshit, immmgnnacum I'm gnna- FUCK, FUUUUCK!” I grabbed a handful of her hair and guided her face towards my cock, pushing it in so it was fully inside her mouth, and moved her head up and down. Feeling my release getting closer and closer, her fingers didn't stop. Getting me closer and closer to my climax. “You're so pretty like that, so pretty-, with your little mouth full of my cock, AHHHHHH, Fuck yesssss”
Finally, I felt that release, arching my back, unconsciously pushing her head down further so she would swallow all my cum. I loosened my grip on her hair and stroked it a little, a discreet way of saying sorry, She looked up, and pulled my cock out of her mouth with a "pop", she opened her mouth, allowing me to see she swallowed it all.
She came closer to my face and kissed me. When she pulled away, I still saw mischief and a hint of desire in her eyes.
“Baby, I'm gonna get hard again if you look at me like that...”
Hi there!, hope you liked it lol, it's not that good, but I really do hope you enjoyed it. Anyways, here's my previous fic!
Do you really like me?
And here's a sneak peak of my next full fic!
What r the rules for breakfast today?
Your roommate (who just happens to be a tiger hybrid) has been driving you crazy since college, now that you live together it's much more complicated to be around him, because it seems he's allergic to clothes.
After a string of bad dates, you decide to try and do something about it. But predictably, he takes charge and shows you what a real tiger is.
(currently obsessed by Hoshi and his tiger agenda lol)
Tiger hybrid Hoshi x Female and kinda yearner reader- roommates to lovers, smut with a hybrid. (Someone teach me how to tag
🍅 anon here! Gotta be fucking kidding me will be on my top fave req smut. Begging and crying minghao CHEF’S KISS 😩🫶🏻 You really are amazing and thank you so much for making my request. YOU ARE THE GOAT! YOU ARE THE CHEF 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
OH MY GOD TYSM!!!!
I really doubted myself a lot about whether you'd like it; I truly felt like I'd just done whatever I wanted. But knowing you liked it makes me incredibly happy.
Thank you so much for the compliment. It really motivates me to keep writing!!
Have you ever misgendered your roommate?When you first moved into your assigned dorm, you didn’t bother talking to them. On the rare occasions you tried, they’d only respond with a nod or a shake of the head. It was fine—talking wasn’t necessary. Both of you were too wrapped up in your own worlds to care.Then one day they called out from the bathroom, asking you to hand them a towel. Nothing unusual. Until you opened the door.
Tgs. roommate au, jeonghan x reader, feminine male roommate, (kinda?) long wavy hair jeonghan, misgendered roommate, gender reveal, SMUT! rough sex, possessive sex, dirty talk, heavy breeding kink, creampie (safe sex is great sex!!!), oral sex, sloppy blowjob, deepthroat, face fucking, throat bulging, gagging, messy spit play????, hair pulling, finger fucking, clit slapping, mirror sex, wall pinning, standing sex, counter sex, manhandling, praise kink, degradation kink, squirting, aftercare, fluffy ending, explicit smut, nsfw
I got inspiration out of nowhere (a song), so here's a little bit of my mind. Jeonghan in this story looks like the pic I placed.
Btw, my requests r open (please ask for reactions)
My masterlist!
It was a fairly normal day. One of the very few days you had off, And by a very strange coincidence, your roommate was also home.
This was odd, since both of them usually had busy lives due to their studies. But you didn't think much of it anyway. Perhaps if they had spoken from the beginning they could have been very good girlfriends by now. But when you moved in with her, it was finals week, so you didn't exchange a word. And now they don't speak a word to each other, they only communicate by text messages. You had her cell phone number, since it was given to you with your dorm assignment sheet. Her name: Yoon Jeonghan. A very beautiful girl, with wavy hair, and such delicate and pretty features.
You were sprawled in the couch, drinking some ice tea—Lipton Iced Tea Mix— while doom scrolling on reels, The weather outside looked nice, but you didn't feel like going out.
You stretched a little, letting your bones flex, and sighed, releasing all the week's stress in that breath. Then you got up and checked what you would eat today. When you opened the fridge, well, there was food to eat, but you felt lazy and decided to order some take out.
You grab your phone from the couch, shifting your focus from the endless loop of reels to a food delivery app. As you scroll through options—debating between a warm bowl of ramen or just ordering a massive pizza you can pick at for the next two days—the muffled sound of rushing water from the bathroom suddenly cuts off. A moment of silence follows, save for the hum of the refrigerator.
Then, the bathroom door creaks open a mere crack, and a voice calls out.
“Hey... sorry to bother you, but could you hand me a towel? I forgot to bring one in, and the rack is empty."
The voice is smooth, a little raspy, and definitely deeper than you would have expected for someone you’d mentally categorized as a quiet, shy and delicate girl for the past few months. You blink, a little startled by the sudden interaction. It’s probably the most consecutive words you’ve heard them speak out loud since moving in. “Uh, yeah, sure, hold on!” you call back, setting your phone down on the kitchen island. You walk over to the linen closet in the hallway, grab a fresh, fluffy white towel, and head toward the bathroom. You knock lightly on the wooden frame first.
“I have it.” “Thanks, just hand it to me,” the voice replies. Without thinking much of it—assuming they'd just crack the door an inch and stick a hand out—you push the door open slightly to pass the towel through. But the door swings a bit wider than intended, pushed by the draft, and the heavy mist of hot steam billows out into the hallway, carrying the scent of sweet, cherry-blossom shampoo.
You freeze. Standing there, halfway out of the shower glass and reaching for the door, is your roommate. The long, beautiful, wavy hair you'd admired from a distance is dripping wet, plastered against a pair of broad, distinctly masculine shoulders. The water droplets slide down a completely bare, flat, and toned chest. Jeonghan stops mid-motion, his hand hovering in the air. He looks at you, his sharp, pretty eyes blinking through the damp strands of hair, completely unbothered by his lack of clothing. He tilts his head slightly, a faint, amused smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Are you going to give me the towel, or just keep staring?” he asks, his voice echoing slightly against the bathroom tiles.
Your brain short-circuits. Yoon Jeonghan.The delicate features. The beautiful hair. The name you never questioned because you were not that familiar with Korean names. And She... is very clearly a he. And finally you realize you're staring at him and hand him the towel, rushing out of there, slamming the door behind you. But before you can sprint to your room, the door opens, and a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you back inside the bathroom, closing the door and trapping you against it.
The steam still clung thick in the air, making the small bathroom feel even smaller as Jeonghan pinned you against the closed door with surprising ease. His grip on your wrist was firm, warm from the shower, and droplets of water slid from his hair onto your shirt. He was still completely naked, the towel you'd handed him now loosely draped over one shoulder instead of wrapped around his waist. Up close like this, the contrast hit you harder—the delicate, almost ethereal beauty of his face with those sharp, cat-like eyes and full lips, paired with the lean, toned lines of a man's body, narrow hips, and the unmistakable evidence of his arousal starting to stir.
"You okay there? You look like you saw a ghost," he murmured, his voice low and slightly husky, laced with that same amusement. A faint smirk tugged at his mouth as he tilted his head, letting wet strands of hair fall across one eye. “Or maybe you've been wondering about me this whole time? Have you finally found out?”
Your heart hammered against your ribs. Words tangled in your throat.“I—Jeonghan—you're... I thought—”
“A girl?” He chuckled softly. One hand stayed braced beside your head on the door, caging you in, while the other released your wrist only to trail lightly down your arm. “Happens more often than you'd think. The name, the hair, the face... I stopped correcting people a long time ago. It's easier this way. That's why I never corrected you” His gaze dropped slowly, deliberately, tracing over your body before flicking back up.“But, you never asked.”
The heat from the shower mixed with the flush creeping up your neck. You could smell the cherry-blossom shampoo on him, sweet and intoxicating, and feel the warmth radiating off his bare skin. He was close enough that if either of you breathed too deeply, you'd touch.
Jeonghan leaned in a fraction more, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “You were staring pretty hard, liked what you saw?” His free hand came up, fingers grazing your jaw, tilting your face toward his. Those pretty eyes were half-lidded now with something hungry. “Don't tell me I ruined the roommate situationship we had...Or did it make it better?”
Your back pressed harder against the wood. Part of you wanted to bolt. The bigger part—the one currently short-circuiting from the sight, scent, and sheer overwhelming presence of him—didn't.
“I... wasn't expecting this,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.
“Good.” His smirk deepened. He shifted his weight, and you felt the unmistakable brush of his hardening cock against your thigh through your clothes. "Neither was I when you decided to walk around the dorm without a bra, or when you wonder around the place not wearing pants, and you let me see that beautiful ass of yours, oh and let's not forget the fucking times you bring disgusting men... Never took you for the type that fake orgasms. You deserve better baby.”
He paused, giving you a moment, those delicate features softening just a touch as if checking if you'd push him away. When you didn't, his hand slid to the back of your neck, thumb stroking lightly.
“You deserve me.” he purred, voice dropping even lower.
Jeonghan didn’t wait long for your answer.
The second your lips parted he closed the distance and kissed you hard. It wasn’t gentle. His mouth was hot, demanding, tongue sliding against yours as he pressed his naked, still-damp body flush against you. The towel dropped forgotten to the floor.
You moaned into his mouth when his hand shoved your shirt up roughly, exposing your breasts. He broke the kiss only to latch onto your neck, sucking a dark mark right below your jaw while his fingers pinched and rolled your nipples, sending sharp sparks of pleasure straight between your legs.
“Fuck, you’re sensitive,” he growled against your skin, voice raspy. “Bet you’re already soaked for me, isn't that right, hun?”
His other hand didn’t hesitate. He shoved your pants and underwear down in one impatient tug, letting them bunch around your thighs. Two long fingers slid between your folds, stroking your slick heat before pushing inside you without warning.
“Ah-!F-Fuck, Han...” Your head fell back against the door with a thud.“Shhh… that’s it,” Jeonghan purred, curling his fingers deep, stroking that spot that made your knees buckle. “So wet already. This pretty "girl" is gonna ruin sex f'u, You're only going to want to fuck with me, you're only going to want me to be the one to fill you up, right? I should make you completely mine, shouldn't I? Filling you up with my babies.”
He pumped his fingers faster, thumb circling your clit with relentless precision. The wet, obscene sounds echoed in the steamy bathroom. Your hips jerked against his hand, chasing the pleasure as he kissed and bit down your collarbone.
Jeonghan pulled his fingers out suddenly, making you whine at the loss. He brought them to his mouth, licking them clean while staring straight into your eyes, that pretty, wicked smirk never leaving his face.
“On your knees, baby. I want to feel that mouth first.”
Jeonghan’s voice was low and rough with need as he guided you down firmly until your back hit the door. His thick, leaking cock bobbed right in front of your face—long, flushed dark pink, and beautifully curved upward, the swollen head already shiny with precum. You barely had time to inhale before he tangled his fingers tightly in your hair and pushed forward, sliding the hot, heavy length between your lips with a deep, filthy groan.
“Fuuuuuck… good fucking girl,oh... my... G-goood.” he sighed, eyes rolling back for a second before locking onto you again. “Th-that’s it—open wider. Take my cock like the needy little girl you are.”
You wrapped your lips around him, sucking eagerly as your tongue swirled around the leaking tip. The taste of him was musky, slightly sweet from the shower gel still clinging to his skin. Jeonghan didn’t let you ease into it. He rocked his hips forward, feeding you more of his length until the head nudged the back of your throat.
“Shit- yes! just like that,” he moaned, breathy and shameless. “Suck it like you mean it. I’ve jerked off so many fucking times daydreaming about storming insied- Fuck!- your room when those stupid guys, oh shit! Don't know how to pleasure you... And, fucking, show them how's it done, Ahh-!”
You placed your hands on his firm, toned ass for support, fingers digging into the muscle as he started fucking your face with slow, deep thrusts. Wet, obscene slurping sounds filled the steamy bathroom every time he pulled back, your saliva already dripping down his shaft and coating your chin. The more he pushed, the messier it got—thick strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to his glistening cock whenever he withdrew.
Jeonghan looked down at you with his half-lidded eyes, his delicate features flushed pink and his long wavy hair sticking to his damp cheeks and neck. The contrast was dizzying—this ethereally pretty face moaning like a porn star while he used your throat.
“Look at you,” he growled, voice cracking with pleasure. “Drooling all over my cock like a desperate slut. You have no idea how many times I imagined shoving you down and face-fucking you until tears ran down your cheeks. How many fucking times I wanted to... Ahhh... Fuck you when you're being a fucking menace by only wearing those- Uhhg- Diminute tank tops without a bra, and those beautiful panties.”
He tightened his grip in your hair and thrust deeper, forcing you to take almost all of him. Your throat constricted around the head of his cock and you gagged wetly, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth and dripping onto your shirt and the floor. Jeonghan groaned loudly at the feeling, hips stuttering.
“Fuck yes—gag on it. Make it messy, baby. I want your throat bulging. That’s my good girl… choking on my dick like you were made for it.”Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he started fucking your mouth faster, shallow and sloppy now, the wet gluck-gluck-gluck sounds echoing off the tiles. His balls slapped lightly against your chin with every thrust. Precum and saliva ran down your neck in shiny rivulets. Jeonghan’s pretty lips were parted, soft whimpers and filthy praises spilling out nonstop.“You’re so much better than I imagined… warm, wet, fucking perfect. Bet your pussy is clenching right now, jealous your throat is getting all the attention.”
He suddenly pulled you forward until your nose pressed against his trimmed pubic hair, holding you there as your throat spasmed around him. You choked hard, more thick drool pouring from your stretched lips and running down his balls.
After a few long seconds he pulled back, letting you gasp for air. A thick strand of saliva connected your panting mouth to his throbbing, sloppy cock. Jeonghan stared down at the absolute mess he’d made of your face—swollen lips, tear-streaked cheeks, chin covered in spit—and smirked.
“God, you look so fucking filthy like this…” He tapped his wet cock against your cheek a few times, smearing the mess around. “But I’m not done with this mouth yet.”
He slid back between your lips immediately, resuming the relentless rhythm, clearly loving how wrecked and sloppy you were becoming.
“En-enough. I need to be inside you.”
He pulled you up like you weighed nothing, spun you around, and bent you over the bathroom counter. Your hands braced against the mirror as he kicked your legs wider. The head of his cock nudged your entrance, sliding up and down your soaked folds teasingly.“Look at yourself,” he ordered, voice dark. One hand gripped your hip, the other reached around to rub your clit. “Watch how pretty you look when I finally fuck you the way you deserve.”
Then he thrust in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke.
You cried out, the stretch intense and perfect. Jeonghan moaned loudly, forehead dropping against your shoulder for a second as he savored the tight heat.“Sh-shiiiit… so fucking- tight- oh my-!” he hissed. “Better than I imagined.” he chuckled.
He didn’t give you long to adjust. His hips snapped forward, setting a deep, punishing rhythm that had the sound of skin slapping skin mixing with your moans and his low grunts. Every thrust dragged against that sweet spot inside you, making your legs shake.
Jeonghan’s hand slid up your back, gripping your hair and pulling your head back so you were forced to watch in the mirror—his pretty face behind you, eyes locked on yours, lips parted in pleasure as he fucked you harder.
“Tell me how it feels,” he demanded between thrusts. “Tell me whose cock is ruining you right now.”
He reached around again, rubbing your clit in tight circles, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every snap of his hips.
“Fucking answer!” Jeonghan growled, slapping your swollen clit again with sharp, wet smacks that made your whole body jolt.
“It’s—ahh! It’s your cock!” you cried out, voice breaking as he slammed into you even harder. “Jeonghan- fuck- your cock is ruining me!”
A satisfied, wicked laugh escaped his lips. “That’s right, baby. My cock. Not those useless boys you brought home.” He yanked your hair harder, forcing your eyes to stay on the mirror. The sight was obscene: your face flushed and wrecked with tears, mouth open in a broken moan, tits bouncing with every brutal thrust, while behind you Jeonghan looked like a wet dream—long wavy hair sticking to his pretty face, sharp eyes dark with lust, lips parted as he fucked you like he owned you.
“Can you see how deep I’m going, hmm?” he hissed, slowing his thrusts for a moment so you could see his thick, glistening cock sliding almost all the way out before slamming back in, stretching your pussy wide. “Look at how your greedy cunt swallows me! So fucking sloppy already.”
The wet squelching sounds were loud and filthy, your arousal dripping down your thighs and coating his balls. Jeonghan reached around and rubbed your clit again in fast, messy circles, occasionally giving it another light slap that sent electric shocks through your body.
Your legs started shaking uncontrollably. The angle was perfect—his curved cock dragging relentlessly against your g-spot with every thrust. You could feel the pressure building fast, dangerously fast.Jeonghan noticed. Of course he did.
“Don’t you dare cum yet,” he warned, suddenly slowing his hips to a torturous grind, keeping himself buried deep while he rolled his hips in slow circles. “I want to feel this tight little pussy milk me when I say so.”
He pulled out completely, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. You whimpered pathetically at the loss. Before you could protest, he spun you around to face him, lifted you onto the counter, and shoved your back against the cool mirror.
Jeonghan hooked your legs over his arms, spreading you wide open, and thrust back inside in one brutal stroke. The new angle made you scream.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,yes, right there!” you sobbed.
He pounded into you mercilessly, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing off the tiles. Sweat and steam made both your bodies slick. His pretty face was inches from yours now—those delicate features twisted in raw pleasure as he watched you fall apart.
“Yo-you’re clenching so hard around me- fuck—” he groaned. “Such a needy fucking hole. Been waiting months to fill you up like this.”
He leaned down and captured your mouth in a messy, spit-slick kiss, tongues sliding desperately while he kept fucking you deep. When he pulled back, a string of saliva connected your lips.
“Gonna cum inside you,” he panted against your mouth. “Gonna pump this pretty pussy full until it’s leaking down your thighs. You want that, don’t you? Want your roommate to breed you like a slut?”His thumb found your clit again, rubbing fast and firm. Your walls fluttered wildly around his cock, the coil in your belly tightening unbearably.
“Jeonghan- d-don't s-stop, please, I'm so close—”“Cum then,” he finally commanded, voice dark and breathless. “Cum on my cock like a good girl. Let me feel it.”He slammed into you harder, angling perfectly, and the orgasm crashed over you like a wave. Your vision went white as you screamed his name, pussy spasming violently around his thick length, gushing around him. Jeonghan moaned loudly, eyes rolling back as your walls squeezed him rhythmically.“Fuck—fuck— so tight—!”
He fucked you through it, chasing his own release with short, desperate thrusts until his hips stuttered. With a broken, beautiful moan right against your ear, he buried himself as deep as possible and came hard, pulsing thick ropes of cum inside you. His cock twitched with every spurt, filling you until you could feel the warmth leaking out around him.For a long moment, the only sounds were your heavy breathing and the dripping of water from the forgotten shower head.
Jeonghan stayed buried deep inside you, forehead pressed gently against yours as you both trembled through the aftershocks. A lazy, satisfied smirk slowly spread across his flushed, angelic face. His breathing slowly evened out, warm against your skin.
He brushed a few damp strands of hair away from your face with careful fingers.“…You okay?” he whispered, voice still hoarse.
You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah. That was… intense.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. He leaned in and kissed you slowly,soft, sweet, and unhurried. Then he pressed another kiss to your cheek and the corner of your mouth.
He pulled out carefully, both of you sighing at the loss. You felt his cum starting to leak down your thigh, but Jeonghan was already reaching for the towel. He cleaned you up with gentle hands, almost reverent, before quickly wiping himself down.
Without a word, he turned the shower back on to a warm spray and guided you under it with him. The water felt soothing against your heated skin. He washed you slowly, his fingers massaging shampoo into your hair while you did the same for him, running your hands through his long, wet waves. He kept stealing soft kisses along your shoulder and neck the whole time.
After drying off, he wrapped you in a big towel and carried you straight to his bed. He laid you down gently before leaving, and bringing you some clothes. When you were both dressed he climbed in beside you, immediately pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you securely, one leg tangling with yours as he held you close.
For a few minutes, you simply lay there in comfortable silence, listening to his heartbeat.
“I should probably explain something,” Jeonghan said quietly, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your back. “I wasn’t around much… not because I didn’t like you. It was kind of the opposite.”
You tilted your head to look at him. “What do you mean?”
He let out a soft, embarrassed chuckle. “You made it really hard for me to behave. Literally.” His cheeks flushed just a little. “Every time you walked around in those tiny shorts or without a bra… or when I’d hear you through the walls… I had to leave the dorm more often than I wanted to. I was worried I’d do something stupid and make you uncomfortable.”
Your face heated up, but you couldn’t help smiling. “So all those times you disappeared…” “Yeah,” he admitted, grinning sheepishly. “I was either in the library trying to calm down or jerking off in the shower thinking about you. Not my proudest moments.”
You buried your face in his neck, laughing softly. “I can’t believe I never noticed.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ve liked you for a while now. More than I probably should have, especially since we barely talked. I just didn’t know how to tell you without it being weird.”
You pulled back enough to meet his eyes. They were warm, a little vulnerable, and unfairly pretty. He leaned down and kissed you again, slow and sweet, savoring the moment. When he pulled away, he tucked you closer against him.
Your stomach growled loudly, breaking the quiet intimacy. Jeonghan chuckled.
“Hungry?”
“Very,” you admitted.
He reached for his phone on the nightstand without letting you go, keeping one arm firmly around your waist. “Pizza it is, then. Extra cheese?”you hummed a yes.
He placed the order quickly, then set the phone aside and pulled you back into his chest. As he tapped in the order, he mumbled against your hair, “By the way… you’re my girlfriend now. I decided. No take-backs. So… that means I can finally stop pretending I don’t like when you walk around the house barely clothed.” he said, a playful glint in his eyes.
You poked his side. “Only if you stop ignoring me.” “You got a deal,” he laughed softly, the sound warm and low in his chest.
He kissed your forehead and held you tighter as the comfortable silence returned.
An. I really liked this one tbh haha. Remember my requests r open!
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Taglist! (First time tagging, kinda nervous lol 🥹)
Girlfriend
DK and Mingyu are both head-over-heels for Boo Youmi, constantly begging and pleading for a chance with her. No matter how hard they try, she gently turns them down every time. They've begun to suspect she already has someone... and they're so right!
Youmi is madly in love with you, her best friend - her very first and only crush. You're the prettiest, kindest girl in her eyes, and she's completely captivated. What you don't realize is how deeply her feelings run. You joke about her being your "girlfriend," kiss her cheek, hold her hand, invite her for sleepovers, and even flash her playfully from time to time. To you, it's all harmless fun between best friends.
Heyyyyy!! I saw you write about pi cheolin.... And I'm already so damn excited for it!!!! 💗💗💕💞💖
I was thinking.... What are your thoughts about boo youmi x reader 👀
(ik it's a wild thought... sowry 😛)
HIHIHIHI, I'm actually quite excited to develop the story. What I'm not so sure about, though, is the plot. I'm not entirely convinced by what I've written so far. But I'm still open to suggestions for developing the plot... because I've already completed the smut part HAHAHAHAHA.
ANYWAYS! Am I being blessed by this idea?! Boo youmi x reader OMFG YEEEEESSSSS!
I got two ideas for this ship.
1. Boo Youmi is sought after by both DK and Mingyu, and they both want her and beg and plead with her. What they don't know is that she's in love with [reader], so she's madly in love, and you're her best friend and It's pretty obvious he has a massive crush on you.
(Honorific mention....Boo Youmi w a corruption kink............? She being the one w the kink)
2. After a long day at work, you take the opportunity to go to the beach and enjoy the last days of summer. And you meet a very beautiful girl (Boo Youmi). She makes you see how wonderful the sea can be and the clichés of holiday romances.
Ejem ejem... So I'm working on something.... If Tumblr stops hating me and deleting everything I write when I post it, I'll be uploading this around June 10th (or earlier if I'm not busy!).
Hello! I recently read cocoa butter kisses and the way I immediately said “I hate smokers but if it’s you minghao, sure sure” I’m a goner AHHHHHHHH.
I’m also a die hard fan or a slowburn enemies to lovers. May I request for that trope? 🥹🥹🥹 Also if you need other information to add, I’m a plus size girlie and more on the short side. Can you make minghao like the type of a guy where he would genuinely ragebait you to get your attention loke in a cocky way? I have this thing with his veiny hands and arms like AAAAAH HAVE MERCY.
Only, If you’re okay with this theme hehe. Thank you so much.
If there’s no 🍅 anon yet, can I be 🍅 anon? Thank you!
I finally finished it! You can find it here.
I tried to do my best, since you're my first anon, but I had to re make it three times lol.
I did the best I could, but in the end I feel like I did whatever I wanted, so I'm sorry if it wasn't what you wanted. I also tried to make the female character as ambiguous as possible in terms of looks. I decided not to include specific details about her appearance because you didn't want to stereotype or anything like that. Hope y'all like it :3
Working in the fashion industry is a pain in the ass, but working for Xu Minghao in the fashion industry should be a direct punishment from hell.
Tgs. Enemies to lovers???, smut, needy minghao, ummm, a bunch of unnecessary drama lol. I'm sorry this is the third time I try to upload this, I'm kinda lazy to put the tags 😓
English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes
My masterlist!
(my requests are open, plz ask for reactions 🥺)
“Son of a bitch! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hope he dies, I hope he FUCKING DIES, FUCK!” You were pacing around your office, scattering papers all around, throwing insults to your nemesis. And when you were about to throw a vase you had taken from your desk onto the floor.
Knock knock
“WHAT!?” you turned her head towards the opaque glass door; the door creaked open, A familiar face appeared, raising an eyebrow at the sight of his coworker's mess in her spacious office. "Calm the fuck down, someone could see you." the man said, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. “Put it down” You froze, about to throw the vase, but upon hearing your partner's command, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.
You placed your hands on the desk, resting the full weight of your upper body on them, your nails were almost tearing the wood with the force of the way you were digging them into the desk. “Take another deep breath,” the man, now behind you, turned you around so your buttocks were resting on the desk. The height of your Louboutin heels made the desk look tiny in comparison to your height.
The man arranged her hair, smoothing down the stray strands -because you had run your hands through your neat, combed hair- and brushed a few locks away from your face, placing his hands on your shoulders “Breathe in” he instructed “Breathe out” you exhaled, almost like a huff.“I'm gonna kill him, Hansol. I swear to God I'm gonna fucking KILL HIM” You said this time in a calmer tone but, it could still be heard the desperation in you voice.
This was not at all like you; your composed and serene demeanor, who knows where the hell it was. It was the first time Hansol had seen you crash out. But he knew who the apple of discord was that he had caused this disaster.
Xu Minghao. And he's a homewrecker. A fucking homewrecker.
“Everything was going well between Jun and me, Hansol, I had him -almost- on my fucking sheets, and then this son of a bitch shows up. He took it from me. He took it from me, DAMN IT!”
This man, Xu Minghao; was the head of the world's most coveted fashion magazine, VOGUE. A man with such impeccable fashion sense, his ideas graced the covers of every season. His runway shows were a resounding success. His pieces were modeled by the most sought-after models in the industry. He didn't miss a single detail.
But he liked wasting his time with anyone he found rather attractive. Or, being a damn homewrecker.
“I took the slowest, safest route, I did everything right, and this fucker shows up. Why is he only doing this shit to me?It was my chance, Hansol, it was my fucking chance to have sold stability on my life!.”
Hansol just hummed, trying to look for a solution on his mind, Never in the five years he'd worked with her had I seen her like this. “You have half the company wrapped around your finger, and you're suffering for that son of a bitch who's a whore for attention?”
That last part wasn't much of a lie, actually. Minghao had a bad reputation for being... a slut... Jumping from relationship to relationship, he was never satisfied with just one. He couldn't moderate his carnal desires, or his love for the attention and devotion of others, he absolutely loves being worshiped.
“I know he's a whore, but Jun, he was everything I wanted” Hansol rolled his eyes and gestured with his hands, slapping both sides of his own legs, confused and stunned by the stupid shit her friend had just said “Did you just heard the fucking shit that just came out of your mouth!? At this point you're just talking nonsense, I- I, I'm done with this conversation,” He raised his wrist to check the time on his watch a beautiful Santos de Cartier. “It's my lunch break, I'm not going to argue with you. Come on, you need some air." He took her hand and led you out of the building.
The elevator ride down was silent except for the low hum of the machinery. Hansol kept one hand on the small of your back, steadying you like you might actually combust if he let go. When the doors opened to the lobby, the cool city air hit you the second you stepped outside.
“hm, weather is nice.” he muttered, steering you toward the little rooftop garden café attached to the building’s adjacent tower. It was quiet up there this time of day, mostly reserved for executives who wanted to smoke in peace.
You dropped into a chair overlooking the skyline, crossing your legs so the slit in your pencil skirt rode up a litte. Hansol ordered two black coffees without asking and sat across from you, loosening his tie.
“I’m not crazy,” you said before he could open his mouth.“Didn’t say you were.” He leaned back, watching you. “But you’re acting like someone who just lost everything on life. Jun isn’t even that special. He’s...Nice. Polite. Has that soft smile thing going on. But you’re out here ready to commit murder over him like he’s the last dick on earth.”You shot him a glare. “He was going to be mine, Hansol. I had him. And then Minghao just glides in with his fucking silk shirts unbuttoned to his sternum and those stupid doe eyes and suddenly Jun’s canceling on me to go to some private after-party.”
Hansol rubbed his temple. “Because Minghao is a professional homewrecker. He doesn’t even want most of them. He just likes the chase. The worship. The way they all fall over themselves for the great Xu Minghao, creative genius and walking wet dream.”You laughed bitterly, “And it works. Every single time.”The waiter set the coffees down. Hansol slid yours closer.“Look,” he said, lowering his voice, “you have options. You always have options. Half the board wants to fuck you, the other half is scared of you. Use it. Sabotage the next shoot. Leak some gossip. Or better yet...” He smirked. “Seduce Minghao yourself. Beat him at his own game. Make him the one obsessed. Then take Jun back when Minghao’s distracted choking on your attention.”
You stared at him.“Or,” Hansol continued, sipping his coffee, “you could just let it go. Find someone who isn’t a flight risk. But we both know you’re not going to do that.”The wind tugged at your hair. You could still feel the rage simmering under your skin, maybe just the sick thrill of playing the same filthy game Minghao loved so much.You uncrossed your legs and leaned forward, nails tapping the side of the porcelain cup.“Tell me more about that second option, how can I ruin him.”Hansol smiled like he’d been waiting for you to ask.“His biggest show of the season is in three weeks. He’s addicted to being wanted. If you play it right. he’ll drop everything to get under that skirt. Including Jun.”
You took a slow sip of coffee, the bitterness grounding you.What did Hansol mean with playing it right?“Fine,” you said, eyes narrowing. “But if this blows up in my face, Hansol, I’m dragging you down with me.”He grinned. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Seungkwan was staring blankly at his laptop when the knock sounded. He exhaled sharply. “Come in.”
Minghao emerged from the door, Entering with that confidence and condescension that characterized him. “Good morning Kwanie, how's everything going?” Seungkwan found it quite strange that Minghao had entered his office. He didn't usually speak to people "inferior" to him. So he raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. “Yes, everything was fine until you arrived, what do you need Minghao?” “Oh, me? I don't need anything” He looked him up and down to his lap, “from you... But I think you do need something from me. A piece of, advice” Minghao said as he loitered around Seungkwan's office, stopping behind him. With his eyes on Seungkwan's laptop, the screen displayed a photo of him, Hansol, and her. “Hmm, what a nice photo. Haven't they told you that you and Hansol would make a beautiful couple? Because I do think so...”
“Get to the point. I have something to do, something called work, I don't know if you're familiar with the term." Minghao reached out and closed Seungkwan's laptop with a single finger. “I heard that you and Hansol aren't official yet... Why is that, huh?” Seungkwan didn't answer, he just grabbed the bridge of his nose.Trying to be patient enough with the man in front of me was no easy task.“That's none of your business, Minghao, why are you here?” He repeated the question, his patience running out. “Oh, how rude. Now I see why nobody wants to work with you, you’re not patient… Well, since you insist. I came to give you a little advice, man to man; don't you think she's interfering with your relationship with Hansol?”
“What an interesting thing to say, living off someone who can't maintain a relationship for more than a week without getting bored,” Minghao gave a small shrug“I’m just observant you two are part of my team anyways, it would be rude if I didn't paid attention to my, employees...” he sighed and continued “ I've noticed Hansol’s been distracted lately. Spending a lot of time checking on her, playing therapist after hours. You know how he is. Loyal to a fault.” Seungkwan leaned forward, elbows on his desk now, refusing to twist around to face him. “And you think that’s her fault? He's being a good friend, because, unlike you, we do we have morals and ethics towards others. Don't you think this is your fault? Maybe it's the fact that you’ve been stringing her along for months while fucking half the world?” Minghao’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not the one in a relationship with Hansol. You are... almost.” he said mockingly “That’s the problem, isn’t it? he doesn't settle in already, They've known each other for 5 years and they don't even have an official relationship status yet.”He finally walked around the desk and leaned against the edge, arms loosely crossed.
Minghao continued, tone almost conversational. “She’s good at her job. But she’s unstable right now. And unstable people pull everyone into their orbit. Hansol’s too nice to set boundaries. You might have to push a little so he can do that.”Seungkwan let out a short, humorless laugh. “You’re really standing in my office on a Monday morning trying to lecture me about boundaries? That’s rich. Let me add it to the list of things I don't give a damn about.” Minghao tilted his head pouting. “I’m saying you have more to lose here than she does. She’s already proven she’ll burn her own office down over me. What happens when she needs Hansol again next week? Or the week after that? Maybe she's trying, you know, to steal him from you. She can't stand to see other people getting the attention she craves for herself. Maybe he can't stand to see you happy, she can't stand to see how Hansol is your "potential" partner” He pushed off the desk and headed toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you something to think about, Kwanie. Do something before it becomes a pattern.”The door clicked shut behind him.Seungkwan sat there for a long moment, jaw tight. He reopened his laptop, but the photo on the screen; him, Hansol, and her dear friend at last year’s after-party, didn’t feel as warm as it had five minutes ago.
Later that afternoon, Hansol found Seungkwan in the smaller kitchenette, nursing an over-steeped tea.“You good?” Hansol asked, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “You’ve been awfully quiet, and, you're never quiet, what's bothering you?” Seungkwan hesitated, then decided against mentioning Minghao’s visit. Not yet.“Yeah. Just thinking about the next contract. It’s moving fast.”Hansol nodded, leaning against the counter beside him. Their shoulders brushed. “She seems to have struck gold; I've been going through document after document. And the numbers don't lie, Kwan. This could be huge if the cards are played right. She's quite confident about this project; she's been more serene today. That’s good, right?”Seungkwan just hummed in agreement.
He turned his head slightly, studying Hansol’s profile.“You’d tell me if it was getting too much, right? Helping her through all this.” Hansol blinked, not expecting this type of question “Of course. Why?”“No reason.” Seungkwan reached over and fixed the collar of Hansol’s shirt, letting his fingers linger a second longer than necessary. “Just don’t forget you’ve got your own shit to deal with too, don't lose yourself in other people's problems.”Hansol’s hand found his waist, squeezing once, gentle. “I won’t.”They stayed like that for a quiet minute, the low hum of the office fridge the only sound.
By 6:20 p.m., most of the floor had emptied out. The three of them were in the Seungkwan's office, wrapping up loose ends before the signing of the contract, which would be the following day.
“Hey, you two want to get dinner? My treat. I owe you after making you stay after hours.” Seungkwan didn’t even look up from his screen. “Can’t. WE have plans.”Hansol glanced between them, frowning. “Since when?I don't remember we scheduled something for today.”“Since now,” Seungkwan said lightly, closing his laptop. He stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder, and gave her the smallest, most impersonal nod. “Have a good night.”He walked out without waiting. She stood there for a second, lips pressed together. The rejection stung more than she wanted to admit. She turned to Hansol with a frown. “Did I do something?”Hansol exhaled through his nose. “I don’t know. But I’m gonna find out. I'll see you tomorrow, Don't overthink this, you know Kwanie sometimes has tough days, you'll see that tomorrow everything will be alright” He gave her a quick hug and left.
The elevator ride down to the parking level was silent at first. Hansol finally spoke when he reached Seungkwan’s car.“Alright. What the hell is going on with you today?”Seungkwan paused with his keys in hand, then turned around. His expression was calm, but there was a hardness in his eyes that wasn’t usually there.“I’m protecting us.”Hansol blinked. “The fuck you mean? Us?”“Yeah. Us.” Seungkwan gestured vaguely pointing to himself and Hansol. “If the press ever gets wind of everything that’s happening up there; that mess of a love triangle that's been going on, we’re going to get dragged into it just because we’re her closest friends. I don’t want that. And you shouldn’t either.” Hansol’s face hardened and he scoffed. “So your solution is to ice her out? She’s been our friend for years, Kwan. She’s going through shit right now.”“She’s going through shit she keeps choosing,” Seungkwan shot back“I’m not saying abandon her completely. But you need to create some distance. Let her handle her own mess with Minghao and Jun. I’m not risking my reputation or yours because she can’t keep her personal life from exploding at work.”
Hansol stepped closer, anger flashing across his usually calm features. “What the actual fuck are you saying? Do you hear all the crap coming out of your mouth, or are you just talking shit for the sake of talking? You sound exactly like Minghao”Seungkwan didn’t deny it. “He isn't wrong about everything.” he muttered only to himself “You’ve been exhausted, Hansol. Running around playing savior while she cries over a man who doesn’t even respect her. And I’m the one who has to watch you do it.”“What do you mean, man? You always accompanied me and were the first to suggest we go with her” Hansol’s voice rose. “You want me to just turn my back on her? That’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.”“Maybe it should be, I only tolerated her because she was your friend, Hansol, but if we're going to have something serious, I want us to stay away from her.” Seungkwan said quietly. “At least until she gets her shit together. I’m not going down with her, and I don’t want you to either.”
The two of them stood in the dimly lit parking garage, staring at each other. Hansol shook his head, disappointment heavy in his voice. “I can’t believe you’re being like this, It's as if I don't recognize the man I fell in love with.”Seungkwan unlocked his car. “I’m being realistic. It's time to settle down and cut ties with those who are not good for us. Think about it.”He got in and closed the door. The engine started a second later, and Hansol was left standing there, watching the taillights disappear up the ramp.
The return to her office was unsettling for her. Seungkwan had never said no to a plan. He'd even sulked or complained when they couldn't go out together. Had she done something wrong? she wondered. With a sigh, she opened her office door to gather her things. Although the situation felt strange to her, she had to maintain her composure for the meeting the next day. That contract would define the next few years of her professional career. She couldn't afford to screw it up
You pushed open the door to your office, the heavy wood swinging shut behind you with a dull thud that matched the exhaustion settling into your bones. The floor was still scattered with papers from your earlier meltdown. You hadn’t bothered cleaning them up.
You froze two steps in.
Minghao was there.
He sat casually on the edge of your desk, legs crossed at the ankle, flipping through one of your sketchbooks like he had every right to be there. The city lights behind him poured through the tall windows, outlining the sharp cut of his jaw and the open collar of that cream silk shirt. A half-empty glass of something amber—probably your expensive whiskey—rested beside his thigh.
“Took you long enough,” he said without looking up. His voice was low, almost bored. “I was starting to think you’d run off to cry in the bathroom.”
Your pulse spiked instantly. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
Minghao finally lifted his gaze. Those doe eyes, soft at first glance, razor-sharp underneath, locked onto yours. “I have my ways. Perks of being the head of this place.” He closed the sketchbook and set it down. “Nice drawings, by the way. You’re talented when you’re not busy obsessing over men who don’t belong to you.”
You stepped closer, nails digging into your palms. “Get out of my office, Xu Minghao.”
Minghao didn’t move. If anything, he settled more comfortably against your desk, one eyebrow arching in lazy amusement as he swirled the whiskey in your glass.
“Get out?” He repeated the words like they tasted funny. “After I waited so patiently? That’s not very polite, sweetheart.”
You took another step forward.The rage that Hansol had barely managed to cool earlier roared back to life, hot and vicious. “I said get the fuck out. I’m not in the mood for your games tonight, Minghao.”
He finally stood, but only to set the glass down with a soft clink. Then he started walking toward you.
“You’ve never been good at lying,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave.
Your hand moved before you could stop it
shoving hard against his chest. He didn’t budge. Instead, he caught your wrist, fingers wrapping around it with surprising strength. Not painful, but firm.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you hissed, trying to yank free. He didn’t let go.
“Oh, but I do. Especially when it makes you this feral.” His thumb brushed over your pulse point, feeling it race. “Jun was cute. Sweet. Safe. But we both know you don’t actually want safe, do you? You want someone who’ll push back. Someone who’ll make you earn it.” His eyes flicked down to your mouth, then lower, tracing the way your blouse stretched across your chest with each angry breath. “Someone who’ll ruin you right back.”
You laughed, bitterly “You really think I’d let you touch me after what you did? You stole him. You waltzed in with your slut act,and took the one stable thing I had.”
Minghao leaned in until his lips nearly brushed your ear.“I didn’t steal anything. He was never yours. He was just… waiting for something better.” He pulled back just enough to meet your glare, doe eyes gleaming with challenge. “The same way you’re waiting right now. Pretending you hate me when all you really want is to bend me over this desk and make me pay for it. Or maybe…” His free hand came up, fingertips grazing the side of your neck, “you want me to bend you.”
“Fuck you,” you whispered.
Minghao’s smile widened, wicked and beautiful. “Say it again. Louder. I like it when you’re honest.”
You finally ripped your wrist free and shoved him again, harder this time. He let you, stepping back with a soft chuckle, but his eyes never left yours. The air between you crackled like static before a storm.
“You think you can just walk in here, drinking shit after destroying my life?” you let out a scoff “I’m going to ruin you, Minghao. I’m going to take everything you love,and I’m going to burn it down while you watch.”
He tilted his head, looking almost… impressed.
“Good,” he said softly. “I was getting bored with easy wins. Make it hurt, baby. I want to feel it.” For a second, neither of you spoke. Just the city hum outside the windows and the heavy beat of your own pulse in your ears.
Minghao reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black keycard—your office keycard—and tossed it onto the desk between you.
“Your secretary is so easy to win lcer,” he said, already turning toward the exit. But he paused at the threshold, glancing back over his shoulder with that same infuriating smirk.
“Oh and, you should pick your friends better sweetheart, How is it possible that your so-called "best friend" rejected your invitations to go out? Because of a... rumor.”He let out a condescending laugh.
The door clicked shut behind him.
The next morning, you walked the familiar hallway toward Seungkwan’s office. You’d barely slept, Minghao’s parting words echoing like poison in your skull. Pick your friends better. You needed to talk to them. Hansol had promised everything would be fine. Seungkwan was just having a bad day.
You knocked once and pushed the door open without waiting.
Seungkwan was already standing behind his desk, arms crossed tight over his chest. Hansol leaned against the window, expression unreadable.
“Hii, good morning,” you started, forcing a small smile. “About last night-”
“Save it,” Seungkwan cut in sharply. His voice cracked like a whip. “I’m done pretending this is fine.”You blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.” He stepped around the desk, eyes blazing. “I’ve watched you drag Hansol into your endless fucking drama for months. And now you’re pulling him into your mess every single night while I sit at home wondering if he's is going to come back to me or if he’s too busy playing therapist for someone who clearly doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself.”The words hit like ice water. “Seungkwan… I never preten-”
“Bullshit!” His voice rose, loud enough that you worried the glass walls might not hide it. “You didn’t have to ask. He’s too loyal for his own good, and you know that. You use it. Every time something goes wrong in your love life, you blow up and Hansol comes running. What about me? What about us? We’ve been stuck in this gray area for years because he’s always too busy cleaning up after you!”
You looked at Hansol, desperate. “Hansol… tell him that’s not true.”
Hansol exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He wouldn’t meet your eyes at first. When he finally did, his voice was quiet but firm.
“Kwan’s right.”
The floor seemed to tilt under you“I love you like a sister,” Hansol continued, “but this… it’s too much. You’re spiraling, and every time I try to help, it gets worse. I know what I said before, about the revenge shit and all that. But this shit is going to explode and take all of us down with it, now I see it, Seungkwan knocked some sense onto me. And I can’t keep doing this. Not if it means losing what I have with him.” He glanced at Seungkwan, something soft and protective in his gaze you’d never seen aimed at you.
Your throat closed. “So that’s it? After five years? You two are just… done with me?”
Seungkwan’s laugh was bitter. “We’re are SO done.”The silence that followed was suffocating. You stood there, waiting for one of them to take it back. Neither did.
You turned and walked out before the burn behind your eyes could turn into tears.
The contract meeting went flawlessly.
You smiled at all the right moments, shook hands, and closed the deal. Your presentation was sharp, your arguments airtight. No one in that room could have guessed you’d just lost the only two people you trusted in this entire building.
When the last signatures were dry and the executives filed out with congratulations, the victory felt like ash on your tongue. You sat alone in the emptied conference room, staring at the city skyline through the glass, the same view you’d looked at with Hansol just yesterday. Everything tasted sour.
You pulled out your phone, typed a short message to your assistant, and sent it before you could overthink.
Taking personal leave effective immediately. Cover the runway prep. I’ll be back for the show.
Then you turned your phone off, grabbed your coat, and left the building without looking back.
The second week bled into the third, and the office’s newfound quiet began to curdle.
Hansol had started bringing two coffees to his desk every morning out of habit; one black for himself, one with a splash of oat milk and a hint of caramel for you, before catching himself and quietly pouring the second one down the sink. He checked his phone more often, scrolling through old group chat messages, rereading the chaotic memes and late-night voice notes the three of you used to exchange. The absence gnawed at him like a dull toothache. He missed the way you’d drag them both to ridiculous rooftop bars after closing a deal, those all nighters you used to put up with them.
Seungkwan noticed.
At first it was small things. Hansol zoning out during dinner, fork hovering over his plate while he stared at nothing. The way he’d linger near your darkened office door like it might suddenly light up. The soft sigh he let out whenever your name came up in a meeting.“You’re doing it again,” Seungkwan said one evening in their apartment, voice tight as he set the table a little harder than necessary. “Staring into space like she’s going to magically appear and need saving.”
Hansol looked up, guilt flickering across his face before he masked it. “I’m not. I just… it’s weird without her. Five years, Kwan. She was part of our daily life. I keep wondering if she’s okay.”
Seungkwan’s jaw clenched. “She chose this. She chose the drama. We set boundaries for a reason.” But the irritation was blooming now, hot and thorny. Every time Hansol’s gaze drifted, every time he mentioned “remember when the three of us…” it felt like a tiny betrayal. Seungkwan had finally gotten the peace he’d asked for, and yet Hansol couldn’t seem to fully step into it with him.
The tension snapped on a Thursday night.
They were on the couch, a half-watched drama playing on low volume. Hansol’s phone buzzed,and he instinctively reached for it, then paused, thumb hovering. “It’s the runway show logistics. She’s still listed as attending remotely for some parts, but no one’s heard from her directly in days.”
Seungkwan muted the TV. “And? Let her handle it. Why does it always come back to her with you?”
Hansol set the phone down slowly. “Because she mattered to me. To us. I’m allowed to worry without it meaning I want to go back to being her emotional support 24/7.”
The words hung heavy. Seungkwan stood up, pacing a short line in front of the coffee table. “You say that, but every little thing pulls you right back in. I’m right here, Hansol. Trying to build something real with you, and you’re still halfway attached to her chaos.” His voice cracked with frustration. “I thought we were on the same page.”
Hansol reached for his hand, but Seungkwan pulled away. The silence that followed was worse than any argument.
Seungkwan arrived early to the office and found an old folder on his desk, misplaced because of the recent clean-up. Inside were photos from three years ago: the three of you at a disastrous but hilarious fashion week after-party in Paris. You were in the middle, your arm was slung around both of them like you’d never let go, he clearly remembered you were about to have a three-way kiss after too many shots. The caption on the back, in your handwriting: My idiots. Don’t ever change.
He stared at it for a long time, thumb tracing the edge. He remembered that night vividly, the way you’d defended Seungkwan when a drunk designer made a snide comment about his “loud” personality, How, after so many shots, they started flirting with each other, and how the next day's hangover didn't feel so bad. It felt like being home.. You’d always been the glue, the one who saw their potential when others dismissed them as just another pair of ambitious kids in a cutthroat industry. The one who celebrated their small wins like they were everything.
Seungkwan felt the irritation crack, replaced by a slow, creeping worry.
He found Hansol in the break room later, holding that second unwanted coffee again.
“Minghao… he’s been weirdly absent. His team is handling the show prep without him micromanaging every detail. That’s not like him.” Hansol looked up. “You think something happened?”
Seungkwan rubbed his temple, “I don’t know. But both of them vanishing at the same time? It doesn’t sit right.”
Minghao sat on the edge of the private hospital bed, the window gave him a beautiful view of Shanghai, But he paid it no attention whatsoever. His gaze was fixed on the woman lying on the bed. One hand gently holding his mother’s fragile fingers while the other adjusted the cashmere blanket around her shoulders. The room was quiet except for the steady beep of monitors and the distant hum of the city outside. He had spared no expense, best doctors, imported medications, even the jasmine diffuser she loved. Every yuan he made seemed to flow here first.
“māma,” he whispered, voice stripped of its usual sharp elegance. “You look stronger today.” She gave him a long, knowing look. Her eyes, though tired from illness, were still piercing. She always saw through him. “Hao Hao. You flew all the way here just to sit and lie to my face?” she said, voice thin but steady. “How strong I look today. Please.”
He let out a short breath, almost a laugh. “You do look a little better. The new meds-” “Hao.” She squeezed his fingers weakly. “Stop.”Minghao went quiet. He adjusted the blanket over her shoulders instead.
After a moment she spoke again. “You’ve been different these past months. Like something’s actually bothering you for once.”He didn’t answer right away.She studied his face. “There’s a woman.”It wasn’t a question. Minghao rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “There’s always women, Māma.”
“Not like this one. This one has you distracted even while sitting here with me.” She gave a small, tired smile. “You finally met someone who doesn’t just roll over for you?”
He looked down at their joined hands. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.“I think she might hate me,” he said quietly. “I took something she wanted. Someone. Just because I could. And now… she wants to ruin me.”His mother hummed, unsurprised. “Good.”Minghao glanced up, eyebrows raised.
“She sounds like she has spine,” she continued. “You’ve needed someone who would push back for a long time. All these pretty boys and girls throwing themselves at you… it made you lazy. Cruel, even.” She paused to catch her breath. “Does she make you angry?”“Furious,” he admitted. His mother nodded slowly. “Then don’t let her go easily. People who can make you feel something real are rare.”
Minghao stayed silent for a long moment, staring at the city lights through the window.
“You like her,” she said.“I like the way she looks at me like she wants to kill me,” he replied, honest in a way he rarely was. “It’s… new.”His mother watched him for a while, her expression softening.
“Don’t play with her the way you play with the others, Hao Hao. Not this time.” Her voice grew quieter. “You’re not as untouchable as you think you are.”
Minghao leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.“Get some rest, Māma.”
She closed her eyes, but the small smile stayed on her lips.
“I’m serious,” she murmured. “You'll regret it if she leaves.”
The waves crashed steadily against the shore, filling the silence between you. Mingyu sat beside you on the bench, elbows resting on his knees, saying nothing as the wind tugged at his sweater. He was good at that;;waiting without forcing it.
You pulled the cardigan tighter around yourself. “This beach… I used to come here with Hansol and Seungkwan. A couple years back, after we closed that big Japanese account. We ditched the after-party, drove out here at 2 a.m. with cheap soju and some instant ramen. Seungkwan complained the entire time about the sand in his shoes. Hansol just laughed and recorded everything.”Mingyu glanced at you, listening.
“I told you those stories before, didn’t I?” you continued, voice quieter. “How it felt like we were untouchable. Like the three of us against the whole industry. I thought that was solid. Real. But looking back… I was always the one pulling them into my mess. Every breakup, every bad deal, every time Minghao poked at me and I bled everywhere. They were drowning in it too.”
You dug your fingers into the edge of the bench. “Seungkwan was right to be pissed. I used Hansol’s loyalty like it was infinite. And when he finally chose himself and Seungkwan, I acted surprised. Like I hadn’t seen it coming for years.”
Mingyu stayed quiet for a long moment, eyes on the horizon. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about this a lot these past weeks.”
“I have.” You let out a slow breath. “Enough to know I can’t go back to the office like nothing happened. The runway show is basically done. My team can finish without me hovering. I’m going to leave the company.”Mingyu turned his head fully toward you. “Leave? As in quit?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been there long enough that the golden parachute is decent, and I have enough saved to figure out what’s next.I have some job offers from other companies, and I've been putting them on hold, but I think it's time to take them up on them. I can’t keep working in the same building where everything blew up. I don’t want to spend every day avoiding them, pretending we’re fine, or worse, hoping they’ll come around.”
He studied your face, expression unreadable at first. Then he gave a small, slow nod. “That’s a big move. You sure?”“I’m tired, Mingyu. Tired of the drama, the revenge games, the way everything circles back to the same people. If I stay, I’ll just keep feeding it. I need to actually start over. Not just say it.”
Mingyu leaned back against the bench, shoulder brushing yours lightly. “Then do it. I won’t try to talk you out of it. Just tell me what you need while you figure shit out. No pressure, no expectations. I’m here either way.”
You looked at him. “Thanks,” you said simply.The waves kept rolling in. For the first time in weeks, the knot in your chest felt a little looser.You still had a show to close out remotely. Then papers to sign. Then the rest of your life, whatever that looked like without them.
The runway show logistics were flawless, your design team and the production crew had executed your remote directives to the letter.
Seungkwan was the first to find the formal resignation draft. Because of the sweeping departmental restructure executed two weeks prior, the automated human resources off-boarding notification bypassed the main floor leads and landed straight in his administrative queue for a routine asset-clearance signature.
It was supposed to be a completely standard compliance check a cold, itemized list of company-issued laptops, security badges, encrypted external drives, and proprietary software tokens to be wiped and returned. Instead, he stared at the glowing LED screen, the bold text of the primary clause burning into his retinas:
“Effective immediately upon conclusion of the Spring/Summer Showcase.”
"She's leaving," Seungkwan whispered, his voice sounding entirely hollow in the quiet, glass-walled office. The complex legal jargon detailing the golden parachute clause and the non-compete waivers blurred before his eyes. For weeks, he had spent his evenings demanding peace, pushing Hansol for a clean, definitive break from the emotional vortex that always seemed to spin around your life. He had desperately wanted his life back, wanting his partnership and home with Hansol to be untainted by the overwhelming shadows of a third party. Yet, looking at the cold, unfeeling text of an off-boarding PDF, the "peace" he had bought felt less like a triumph and more like a barren, frozen landscape.
Outside his glass partition, Hansol walked past, holding a single cup of black coffee. Hansol looked utterly exhausted, his shoulders slightly hunched under his oversized jacket, the skin under his eyes dark from sleepless nights spent staring at his ceiling. He looked like a man running entirely on muscle memory, stripped of the spark that usually kept him grounded. “Hansol,” Seungkwan called out, his voice tight and uneven. Hansol paused mid-stride, turning around with a neutral, profoundly tired expression. “Yeah? Something wrong with the print layout for the lookbooks?”
Seungkwan didn't answer right away. He just looked from the glowing monitor back to his partner.Seungkwan had wanted boundaries. He had wanted the endless late-night chaos to stop. But he hadn't wanted this. He hadn't wanted to erase your entire history from existence. “She’s taking the external offers she told us about before. The ones she told us she wouldn't take.” Seungkwan said, his carefully constructed defenses finally crumbling to dust, “She’s quitting, Hansol. She’s signing the final release papers tomorrow.”Hansol’s black coffee mug rattled slightly against its ceramic saucer. His neutral masking expression shattered completely, leaving his features looking raw and pale “What? No,” Hansol said, stepping quickly into the narrow cubicle, his fingers tightening around the warm ceramic until his knuckles lost color. “No, she built this entire division from the ground up. She wouldn't just walk away from her life's work over an argument. She built US”
“She is,” Seungkwan said, a hot prickle of tears threatening his eyes as he spun the monitor around, forcing Hansol to look at the irrevocable, timestamped nature of the HR filing. “Because we made her feel like she had to. I told her she was a mess, Hansol. I told her we were drowning in her drama. And now she’s untying the knot entirely so we don't have to look at her.” Hansol stared at the screen, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths as the text solidified the reality. The realization that you were truly erasing yourself from their daily lives; that there would be no more late-night voice notes, no more chaotic memes, no more post-deal rooftop celebrations where the three of you felt untouchable, hit him like a physical blow to the sternum. “We have to do something.”Hansol said suddenly, setting the coffee mug down on the edge of the desk so hard a few dark drops spilled over the rim onto the paperwork. "Do what?" Seungkwan asked, hastily wiping at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “She's been offline for the past 3 weeks,” “Um, I think I still have her location on Life360,” Hansol said, his voice ringing with a desperate, unyielding certainty that Seungkwan hadn't heard in months. “I am not letting her sign those final papers thinking we want her gone.” “We are not, Hansolie.”
“What do you mean, resignation?” he asked, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “The official paperwork was submitted electronically twelve hours ago, sir. She didn't just request leave. She’s cutting ties with the magazine completely.” A sharp laugh forced its way out of Minghao’s throat. Furious. That’s what he had told his mother. He had told her that you made him furious. But this look on his face wasn't fury, it was the sudden and terrifying realization that he had pushed way too hard. You weren't playing his game anymore.
“Cancel my schedule,” Minghao commanded, tearing his gloves off with trembling fingers. “Sir, the board meeting at six-” “I said cancel it!” he snapped, his voice cracking with a raw violence his assistant had never heard before. “Get the car.” The ride from the main building to the city center was a suffocating blur of gray highway. The moment the car pulled up to the corporate tower, Minghao didn't head to his executive suite. He stormed straight past security and slammed his way into the secure HR archives behind the server banks. “Director Xu, this area requires administrative clearance committee presence-” the compliance manager stuttered, standing up in absolute shock. “Move,” Minghao snarled, his eyes wide and unblinking. “Give me her physical personnel file. Right now.” “Sir, all files are encrypted once a resignation draft is logged-” “I don't care about the digital draft!” Minghao yelled, slamming his hand flat against the desk so hard a stack of papers flew to the floor. His perfect, manicured composure was completely disintegrating. “I want her original physical contract from five years ago. The hard copy with her actual registered residential address. Get it before I fire everyone in this room.”
The office went deathly quiet. Frantic typing filled the silence until the manager unlocked a heavy iron cabinet and pulled a thick, cream-colored paper folder. Minghao snatched it out of her hand, ripping the edge of the cardboard. He flipped through the old pages right there in the hallway, his chest heaving. There it was, written in your steady handwriting from half a decade ago, an address to an apartment complex on the older outskirts of the city.
He realized it was only blocks away from the current corporate tower. He dropped the paper folder onto the floor. He didn't wait for his driver, he didn't call for the elevator, and he didn't think. He just ran. Minghao burst through the heavy glass doors of the lobby, sprinting straight out onto the chaotic city streets. The cold afternoon air slapped his face, cutting into his lungs, but he barely felt it.
He ran blindly through the crowded sidewalks, knocking past pedestrians, his heavy charcoal coat flying open as he raced against the clock. He was completely losing his mind. The thought of arriving to find an empty, wiped apartment, the thought of you vanished completely from his life, propelled him forward through the streets until his chest burned violently. He turned the corner into the quiet courtyard of your building, his breath coming in ragged, painful gasps. He threw himself inside, taking the concrete stairs three at a time, his polished dress shoes slipping slightly against the steps.
When he reached your door, he didn't politely knock. He threw his weight against the wood, banging his fist violently against the metal. “Open the door! Opem the fucking door!” he shouted, his voice cracking and echoing brutally down the empty, narrow concrete corridor. “Open up, open this damn door! I know you're in there! Please!”
Inside the apartment, you were sitting at your desk, hand hovering over the trackpad of your laptop, doom scrolling on amazon. The violent, desperate pounding at your front door startled you. You stood up cautiously, walking toward the door. “Who is it?” you called out, your voice laced with exhaustion. “It's me!” Minghao cried out from the other side, his voice completely stripping away any trace of the elegant, untouchable Director Xu. He pounded again, his knuckles scraping against the rough metal until they were about to bleed, his forehead pressing directly against the cold surface as a heavy sob hitched in his throat. “Please. Just open it. Don't leave. Don't do it.”
Stunned by the uncharacteristic tone in his voice, your hand hesitated over the deadbolt. Slowly, you clicked it back and pulled the door open. Minghao practically stumbled forward into your entryway. He looked completely unraveled; his hair was a windblown mess, his chest was heaving violently as he gasped for air, and tears were streaming openly down his pale face. You stepped back, your eyes wide with absolute shock. “Minghao? What are you-”Before you could finish, he slumped slightly against the doorframe, his hands shaking as he looked at you with an expression of pure, desperation. “I know you hate me,” he whispered, a hot, bitter tear spilling over his lashes as he choked on the words. “I know you probably want to see me dead, and you have every right to. I ruined everything” “Minghao, what are you talking about? You won. The team, the work, all of that is yours,” you said, your tone guarded but completely thrown off by the sight of him crying. “I don't care about the company! I don't give a shit about anything. But you!” he broke down completely, his shoulders shaking as he let the absolute truth strip away five years of carefully constructed pride. “I didn't push Hansol and Seungkwan away because I cared about the structure of the division!God I didn't even fucking cared about jun! I did all of that because you never looked at me!” You froze, staring at him in utter disbelief. “You were always so safe, so content in that little world of yours, so good at your job you had everything, everything!” Minghao sobbed, stepping a fraction closer, his voice thick with tears as he stared down at his bloodied knuckles. “You had them, and you were so complete, and the only time your eyes ever truly focused on me, the only time I ever felt like I existed to you, was when I was tearing something out of your hands.” The silence in your entryway was heavy, broken only by the sound of his ragged breaths. “All those petty arguments... the teasing, the way I picked apart your designs and mocked your presentations...” Minghao wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, his voice cracking with intense shame. “It was cruel, and it was so pathetic. But it was the only way I knew how to make you feel something real. I liked the way you looked at me when you wanted to kill me, because at least then, I occupied your mind. I was the only thing in your world for a split second. I was so terrified that if I didn't make you hate me, I would just be another ghost in the hallway to you.”
He looked at you through his tears, his jaw tightening into a desperate, unyielding line as he begged. “Don't sign those papers. Don't let me destroy the only real thing I’ve ever found in this city. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The heavy, broken words hung in the cramped space of your entryway, suffocating the ambient hum of your apartment. You stared at Minghao, your mind struggling to reconcile the shattered, weeping man before you with the razor-sharp director who had spent years systematically chipping away at your sanity. His fingers, scraped raw and bleeding slightly from pounding on the metal door, trembled as he leaned against the wall for support.
“You're insane,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “You tortured me for years, Minghao. You completely unraveled my department. You made me feel like I was entirely incompetent.” “Because it was the only time you actually looked at me!” he cried out again, his voice cracking violently as a fresh wave of tears cut through the sweat and dust on his face. He took a ragged step closer, hands halfway raised as if he wanted to reach for you but was terrified of your rejection. “When you were with Hansol and Seungkwan, you were so damn bright. You laughed, you built things, you were amazing. And when you were with Jun,you two looked like you were meant for each other, as if you were destined to be together for life. But when I crossed your path, everything cracked. Even if it was pure, unadulterated hatred, I wanted that heat directed at me. I wanted to be the reason your heart raced, even if it was out of pure fury.”
You stepped backward into your living room, shaking your head. “That is sick. That is completely pathological.” “I know!” Minghao collapsed onto his knees right there on your wooden floor, his knees hitting the ground with a dull thud. His elegant charcoal coat pooled around him, entirely ruined, but he paid it no attention whatsoever. He buried his face in his bloodied hands, his shoulders shaking with silent, heavy sobs. "My mother told me... She said I was cruel. She told me I would regret it if you left. I didn't understand what she meant until I saw that HR notification. The world just... went completely black. I realized I didn't care about anything. I just NEED you!” You looked his trembling frame.
“You are sick Xu Mingaho, I, I'm lost for words... Why would I believe that? You show up at my door out of nowhere with a pathetic speech, how do I know you're not playing games with me?! How do I know you're not just living here to belittle me again?!”
Minghao stayed on his knees, looking up at you with red-rimmed eyes that had lost every trace of his usual control. His chest heaved with each broken breath, and the tears kept falling, carving clean tracks down his flushed cheeks. “I’m not playing games,” he whispered hoarsely. “Not this time. Not with this.”
He crawled forward on his knees until he was right in front of you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His scraped knuckles left faint bloody prints on your wooden floor as he reached out slowly, hesitating just inches from your legs like he was afraid you’d kick him away.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he breathed, voice cracking. “Everything. Every cruel word, every time I sabotaged you, every night I made you cry in your office. I’ll spend the rest of my life on my fucking knees if that’s what it takes.”
His hands finally made contact, light at first, trembling fingers curling around the back of your calves through your pants. The touch was reverent, worshipful.
“Let me prove it,” he begged, pressing his forehead against your thigh. His breath was hot through the fabric. “I’ll resign too if you want. I’ll tear apart everything I built just so you can have it. I’ll get on my knees every single day and worship you until you believe me.”
His voice dropped lower, rougher, as his hands slowly slid higher, gripping the backs of your thighs. “I’ll make you feel so good you forget every horrible thing I did. I’ll use my mouth, my hands, whatever you want, however long it takes. I’ll stay right here on this floor and let you take everything out on me. Hit me. Use me. I don’t care how rough, how long, how filthy… I’ll thank you for it.”
Minghao looked up at you again, lips parted, pupils blown wide with tears. His fingers dug into your thighs, pulling you closer until his cheek was pressed against your hip.
“I’ve wanted you for so long it’s poisoned me,” he confessed, voice shaking. “Every time I watched you laugh with them, I hated how much I needed to be the one making you fall apart instead. I was so fucking jealous I lost my mind. But I’m yours now. Completely. Break me if you need to. Just… don’t leave.”
He turned his head and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your thigh, then another higher up, his tongue tracing over the fabric like he was starving. A soft, broken whimper escaped him when he felt you tense under his touch.
“Please,” he whispered against you, voice muffled. “Let me start right now. Let me show you how sorry I am. I’ll be so good for you… I swear, please, please please I beg you..”
His hands slid higher, thumbs brushing dangerously close to the apex of your thighs, waiting, begging, for any sign that you wouldn’t push him away. The elegant, terrifying Minghao was gone. All that remained was this desperate, needy man on his knees, ready to debase himself completely if it meant keeping you.“You've got to be fucking kidding me” you said try gritted theet.
Minghao didn’t wait for permission.
Still on his knees, he pressed his face between your thighs, mouth open and hot as he dragged his tongue over the fabric of your pants, right along the seam of your clothed cunt. The sudden wet pressure made your knees buckle.
“W-wait- Minghao, no-” you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders to push him away, but your fingers only clenched into the fabric of his coat instead.
He moaned against you, the sound vibrating straight through the cloth. “Duìbùqǐ… duìbùqǐ, qīn’ài de…” (I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, my love…) His voice was wrecked, muffled against your core as he licked again, slower, filthier, soaking the fabric until it clung to your folds.
You tried to step back, but he followed like a man possessed, hands gripping the backs of your thighs harder, keeping you locked against his mouth. “I know you hate me,” he whispered hoarsely between long, desperate licks, “but please… let me taste you. Just once. Let me show you how sorry I am.”
His tongue pressed flat and firm, dragging upward until the tip caught against your clit through the wet material. Your breath hitched sharply. He was relentless, sucking, licking, rubbing his face against you like he was trying to bury himself in your scent.
“Minghao- fuck- s-stop-” But your voice cracked, legs trembling. He was too good at this. The heat of his mouth, the way he whimpered every time you twitched against his tongue, the pure desperation in every stroke… it was breaking your resistance faster than you wanted to admit.
He looked up at you with wet, red eyes, lips glistening. “Wǒ xūyào nǐ… wǒ tài xiǎng nǐ le…” (I need you… I’ve wanted you so badly…) He nuzzled his face deeper, sucking your clothed clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue rapidly.A broken moan slipped from your throat before you could stop it.
Seizing the moment, Minghao rose slightly, still licking and kissing your cunt through your pants as he guided you backward on shaky legs. Your back hit the edge of the couch and he gently pushed you down onto it, never once removing his mouth.
“Shh… ràng wǒ hǎohǎo duì nǐ…” (Let me treat you well…) he murmured, fingers already working at the button and zipper of your pants. He dragged them down your legs along with your soaked underwear in one rough tug, exposing you completely.
Before you could close your legs, he dove back in.
“Fuck-!” you cried out as his tongue met bare, dripping skin. He groaned loudly, the sound vibrating against your clit as he licked a long, obscene stripe up your folds and sucked your swollen clit into his mouth. The only sound in the room were the -Schlick schlick slurp- of him eating you out and your beautiful moans
Then, two of his long fingers pushed inside you without warning, curling instantly against that spot that made your back arch off the couch. He pumped them slowly at first, then faster, fucking you open while his tongue worked your clit in tight, wet circles.
“Nǐ de xiǎo bī… zhēn tián… zhēn shī…” (Your little pussy… it’s so sweet… so fucking wet…) he groaned against you, voice thick with lust and shame. “Duìbùqǐ… wǒ yīzhí zài shānghài nǐ… ràng wǒ yòng shétou péicháng nǐ…” (I’m sorry… I kept hurting you… let me make it up to you with my tongue…)
You tried to push his head away again, thighs shaking around his ears, but he only moaned louder and sucked harder, fingers thrusting deeper, faster. The wet, filthy sounds of him devouring you made you more wet, the obscene slurping, desperate whimpers, and the slick rhythm of his fingers, everything combined made you feel a knot forming in your lower tummy.
“Minghao- ah- I can’t- you’re- fuck-”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, lips shiny with your arousal, eyes glassy with tears and need. “Please don’t leave me,” he begged, voice breaking as he added a third finger, stretching you open. “Wǒ ài nǐ… wǒ yīzhí dōu ài nǐ…” (I love you… I’ve always loved you…) Then he buried his face back between your legs, eating you out like a starving man, fingers curling relentlessly.
Your resistance finally shattered as your hand flew to his hair, gripping tight instead of pushing away.
He whimpered in relief against your cunt, doubling his efforts, determined to make you come apart on his tongue and fingers until the only thing left in your mind was him begging for forgiveness.
Minghao kept devouring you until your thighs clamped around his head and you came hard on his tongue and fingers, shaking and cursing his name. He didn’t stop licking you through it, moaning like he was the one falling apart.
When your orgasm finally ebbed, he pulled back, lips swollen and glistening. Without a word, he stood up and stripped off his ruined coat and shirt in one frantic motion. His cock was straining painfully against his slacks, hard, leaking, and clearly throbbing.
He shoved his pants down just enough to free himself, then climbed over you on the couch, caging you beneath him. “I need to be inside you,” he rasped, voice hoarse from crying and begging. “Please… ràng wǒ cāo nǐ… ràng wǒ yòng jība péicháng nǐ…” (Let me fuck you… let me make it up to you with my cock…)
You were still dazed from your orgasm when he lined himself up and pushed in with one deep, desperate thrust.
“Fuck-!” you gasped at the sudden stretch. He was thick, and he didn’t give you time to adjust, he started moving immediately, hips snapping forward with raw need. The couch creaked under you as he fucked you hard, deep, and relentless, like he was terrified you’d disappear if he slowed down.
“Duìbùqǐ… duìbùqǐ…” (I’m sorry…) he kept whispering with every thrust, forehead pressed against yours, tears still slipping down his cheeks. “Nǐ de xiǎo bī… tài jǐn le… tài hǎo le…” (Your little pussy… it’s so tight… so fucking good…)
His pace was punishing, but his eyes were soft and broken, locked on your face like you were the only thing keeping him alive. You could feel him holding back, every time his rhythm got too frantic and his cock started twitching inside you, he’d slow down, breathing shakily, edging himself on purpose. Denying his own release like some twisted form of penance.
“You fucking bastard,” you hissed, anger and pleasure mixing dangerously.
Then you slapped him.
The sharp crack of your palm across his cheek echoed in the apartment. His head snapped to the side, a red mark blooming instantly on his pale skin. For a second he stilled, buried to the hilt inside you.
A broken, filthy moan tore from his throat. His cock jerked hard inside your walls.
“Again,” he begged, voice cracking as he started fucking you even harder, chasing the sting. “Dǎ wǒ… qǐng dǎ wǒ…” (Hit me… please hit me…) “I deserve it. I deserve everything you want to give me.”
You slapped him again, harder this time. His hips stuttered, a guttural groan ripping out of him as he forced himself to slow down right at the edge once more, denying his orgasm even though his whole body was shaking with the need to cum.“Wǒ ài nǐ… wǒ gāi sǐ…” (I love you… I should die…) he panted, lips brushing yours as he kept thrusting deep and slow, torturing himself. “Use me. Hurt me. Just don’t leave. Please don’t fucking leave me.”
He buried his face in your neck, biting down gently as he fucked you with long, punishing strokes, still deliberately edging himself, drawing this out as long as you’d let him, desperate to prove he’d suffer for you, desperate to keep you wrapped around him forever.
He was shaking, sweat dripping down his chest, tears still rolling down his reddened, slapped cheeks as he kept himself right on the edge.
“Fuck- please…” he whimpered, voice completely broken. “Wǒ kuài yào shè le… ràng wǒ shè ba, qǐng nǐ…” (I’m about to cum… please let me cum…)
You grabbed his hair roughly and slapped him hard again, the sound echoing sharply. His cock throbbed violently inside you, so close it was torture.
“Cum,” you finally growled. “Fill me up, you pathetic fuck.”The permission broke him.
With a wrecked, animalistic moan, Minghao buried himself to the hilt and let go. “Xièxiè… xièxiè nǐ… cào—!” (Thank you… thank you… fuck—!)
His hips jerked erratically as thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy. You could feel every pulse, every heavy jet painting your walls while he kept grinding deep, pushing his load even further inside you. The wet sounds turned messy and filthy as his cum mixed with your juices and started leaking out around his cock with every weak thrust.
He came so hard his vision blurred, sobbing openly against your neck as wave after wave ripped through him. “Wǒ de… nǐ shì wǒ de…” (Mine… you’re mine…) he gasped between broken moans, still pumping slowly, milking every last drop into you like he was trying to mark you forever.
You clenched hard around him as your own orgasm crashed over you, thighs shaking violently around his waist. The feeling of his cum flooding you pushed you over the edge hard, your cunt spasming and gushing around his pulsing cock.
When it finally ended, Minghao collapsed on top of you, completely spent. His cock was still buried deep inside your cum-filled pussy, twitching with aftershocks. The room was quiet except for both of you panting heavily, skin slick with sweat.
He didn’t pull out.Instead, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his face between your breasts as fresh tears slipped from his eyes. His body trembled against yours.
“Duìbùqǐ…” he whispered again and again, voice hoarse and small. “I’m so sorry… I was so cruel to you for so long. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”
You felt his cum slowly leaking out of you, dripping down onto the couch, but Minghao only held you tighter, like he was scared you’d vanish the moment he let go.
After a long silence, he lifted his head. His face was a mess; flushed, tear-streaked, marked with your handprints , but his eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them.
“I meant everything I said,” he murmured, gently kissing the side of your neck. “I’ll resign if you want. I’ll give you everything I have, I'll even give you my position. Just… don’t leave. Let me stay with you. Let me fix this.”
He carefully pulled out, a thick glob of his cum spilling from your swollen cunt. Minghao looked down at the mess he made with something between shame and satisfaction. Without a word, he slid down your body and pressed a soft, almost reverent kiss to your sensitive pussy, licking up some of the leaking cum like it was an offering.
“Come back to me,” he whispered against your thigh, voice cracking. “Please. I’ll spend every day proving I’m yours now.”
He crawled back up and pulled you into his chest, holding you close on the ruined couch. His fingers gently stroked your hair as the weight of everything slowly settled between you, the anger, the pain, the raw need, and the fragile possibility of something new.
You finally pushed at his shoulder, voice rough but steady. “Get off me for a second… I can’t breathe.”
He obeyed instantly. You sat up slowly, wincing at the soreness between your legs. “You’re really fucked up, you know that?” you said, wiping sweat from your forehead. “Years of torment… and you think one breakdown and a good fuck is enough?”
Minghao knelt on the floor in front of the couch, head bowed. “I know it’s not. I’ll do whatever you want.”
You stared at him for a long moment, heart still racing. “I’m not forgiving you completely. Not yet. But… I’ll give you a chance. Conditional. No second chances after this. Understand?”He nodded quickly, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks. “Yes. I understand. Thank you… xièxiè nǐ…” (Thank you…)
You sighed, running a hand through your messy hair. “I’m staying at the company. I built that division. I’m not throwing it away because of you. I’m coming in until next week.”
“Anything you want,” he whispered, voice cracking with relief. “Take all the time you need. I’ll handle everything at the office.”
After that, Minghao helped you up on shaky legs. He was surprisingly gentle as he guided you to the bathroom. You both cleaned up quietly; warm washcloths, soft touches, him carefully wiping between your thighs while murmuring soft apologies. He even changed the ruined couch cover later while you brushed your teeth.
By the time you reached the bedroom, exhaustion had settled deep into your bones. Minghao hovered nervously until you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into bed with you.
“Don’t overthink it,” you muttered as you crawled under the covers. “Just… hold me. Don’t talk anymore tonight.”
He slid in behind you immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest. His breath was warm against your nape.
“I love you,” he whispered, barely audible. “Even if you never love me back… I’ll stay right here.”You didn’t respond, but you didn’t pull away either. His fingers traced slow, soothing circles on your stomach until your breathing evened out.
Wrapped in his arms, body sore and full of his cum, you finally drifted off to sleep, the weight of everything still heavy, but no longer crushing.
The next morning you were woken by the sound of someone slamming your door. “What the hell?” you muttered. Baely cocious, rubbing your eyes.The door slammed again, hard enough to rattle the frame.
You stirred, groggy and sore, every muscle protesting as you sat up. Minghao was still out cold beside you, face mashed into the pillow, breathing slow and heavy. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you slipped out of bed, grabbed one black t-shirt from your clothes, and pulled it on. It barely covered you.
Another impatient knock.
You padded barefoot to the door and opened it. Seungkwan and Hansol stood there, both looking like shit. Their expressions shifted the second they saw you: messy hair, swollen lips, fresh marks on your neck and thighs, the oversized shirt doing very little to hide what had clearly happened.
Seungkwan’s mouth opened, then closed. Hansol’s grip tightened on the coffee cup in his hand until the plastic lid made a cracking sound.“...What the fuck?” Seungkwan muttered.
You leaned against the doorframe, too drained for filters. “What do you want?”
Seungkwan dragged a hand down his face. “Um we still have your location on Life360... Drove straight here thinking you were ALONE, packing your life up because of the crap we said.” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I was an asshole. I called you dramatic, said we were drowning in your chaos. I pushed too hard. I never wanted you to actually leave.”Hansol nodded. “Same. We wanted space from the mess, not you. You built that division with us. We came to tell you not to sign anything, please.”
Seungkwan didn’t wait for a response. He stepped forward and pulled you into a tight hug, arms wrapping around you like he was scared you’d vanish. His face pressed into your shoulder, breath shaky. “Please don’t quit on us,” he whispered. “I fucked up so bad.”You stood there stiff for a second before your hand came up to rest awkwardly on his back. Hansol hovered close, gently touching your arm, thumb brushing over one of the marks there before he pulled back, looking guilty.
Then a low, raspy voice cut through the hallway.“The hell is this?”
Minghao appeared behind you, leaning against the wall in nothing but black boxers. His hair was a disaster, slap marks still visible on his cheek, scratch marks running down his chest and shoulders. He looked exactly like what he was: a man who’d spent the night falling apart and getting used.
Seungkwan’s whole body stiffened. He pulled back from you slowly, eyes narrowing on Minghao. The shift from guilt to rage was instant.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”He lunged.
You grabbed his arm at the same time Hansol wrapped both arms around his waist and yanked him back hard. “Kwan- stop!” “Let go of me!” Seungkwan snarled, straining against Hansol’s hold, eyes locked on Minghao like he wanted to put him through the wall. “This piece of shit spent years tearing her down and now he’s standing here in his fucking underwear like he owns the place?”
Minghao didn’t move, just crossed his arms, jaw tight. “She opened the door. She let me stay.”“Everyone shut up,” you snapped, stepping between them. Your voice was hoarse but sharp. “No one’s throwing punches in my house!”
Hansol kept his arms locked around Seungkwan until the shorter man finally stopped fighting, though his chest was still heaving. The four of you stood there in the tense, awkward silence, door half-open, you barely dressed, Minghao half-naked.
Seungkwan exhaled shakily, glaring at Minghao. “So what, or did he just conveniently show up with his sob story?” Minghao’s eyes flicked to you, but he kept his mouth shut for once.
You rubbed your temple, head pounding. “It’s complicated. And none of you get to storm in here and demand answers like you own me either.” You looked at all three of them. “I’m not signing the papers. ”
So again, this is the third time I try to upload this, and, I really tried my best to remake it as accurate as the first one, 😓
Anyways, hope you liked this, and please send requests! I'll be more than happy to do them :3
