WARNINGS: sex, twt links, porn, and a VERY weird caption...i'm not using the og posters caption, moaning, oral , riding, stroking, teasing, fingering, cumming, boobs, dick, ass, pussy, etc.
AUTHORS NOTE: guess who made a new twt account and did all this under two hours bc i have nothing else to do.... anyway, enjoy !
loves hearing you whine while he bounces you up and down on his dick
after you deepthroat his cock, he shows you affection for doing so well
this might actually be him idk
pumping his cum deep into your womb
sub!seunghyun...
stretching your pussy out with his thick dick
roleplaying turns into him fucking you senseless
he can leave you shaking and cumming endlessly w/ his cock
gives you a punishment for being a bad girl
pulls your thong out of the way so you can ride his face
the type of videos he sends when he's away from home due to acting
laying on the couch while you carefully stroke him
thank you so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed this, pls don't forget to like, comment or reblog! it shows me a great deal of appreciation!
synopsis: your dating history had been nothing but bad sex and even worse goodbyes. he showed you a patience and certainty that silenced every doubt, proving you weren’t hard to love; you’d been loved by him all along.
warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content | oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, dom!jiyong, sub!reader, soft power play, heavy praise kink, multiple orgasms | best friends to lovers, swearing, fluff, aftercare.
author’s note: this is one of my fics for @jiyongsangel’s man’s best friend writing event!! as per usual, it’s pretty lengthy because apparently i’m incapable of writing anything under five thousand words. i know a lot of people have been looking forward to this one, so hopefully you all enjoy it! ♡
you weren’t heartbroken; that would’ve implied there was something left to break.
you’d been on dates.
enough of them to know when there wouldn't be a second one before the drinks even hit the table.
enough to hear the same compliments repeated back to you like a script.
enough to recognize the tone men used when they were trying to impress you without actually learning anything real.
you’d slept with some of them, too.
sometimes because you wanted to. sometimes because you were desperate for relief. sometimes just to prove to yourself that you could still feel something, even if it didn’t last.
you weren’t bitter. you didn’t walk around openly hating men or rolling your eyes at every couple on the street.
you just didn’t have it in you anymore.
the hope. the performance. the energy it took to pretend someone’s bare minimum was enough.
so when you got home from yet another date that left you completely drained, you didn’t even bother with the lights.
you left your bag by the door, kicked your shoes aside, and sank onto the kitchen floor with a box of cookies at your side.
you weren’t heartbroken. you weren’t even sad. it was quieter than that; almost like resignation.
maybe it wasn’t that love never came; maybe it was that you were never the kind of person people stayed for.
being alone didn’t scare you.
what scared you was how much work it always seemed to take to avoid it.
every man felt like a mirror you kept wiping down, but no matter how clean you made it, the image was never your own.
it was smudged with their ego, clouded by their expectations, and warped by the way they looked at you like you were a puzzle they were entitled to solve.
you were tired of carving yourself down. of softening your edges. of apologizing for being too much or not enough.
tired of folding yourself smaller and smaller until there was nothing left of you at all, except whatever version might finally be enough to make someone stay.
your phone buzzed against the counter, a small sound that cut through the stillness and broke the spiral of your thoughts.
you kept your focus on the cookies in your lap, thumb working over the cardboard as though the solution to all of your problems might appear if you traced it long enough.
until it buzzed again. then again. and again.
you let out a weary sigh and reached for the phone, answering blindly, not bothering to see who it was before lifting it to your ear.
mostly because you already knew who was on the other end of the line.
“hi,” you said, voice low and a little scratchy from disuse.
“you sound like shit,” jiyong replied, warm and easy.
you smiled without meaning to. “thanks.”
fabric shifted on his end, a soft thud like he was throwing himself deeper into a couch.
“you didn’t text me today,” he spoke, not accusing, just noticing.
“mm.” you agreed quietly. “didn’t really feel like it.”
a quiet hum of understanding slipped out before his voice turned lighter. “hold on. didn’t you have that date tonight? with moustache guy?”
you shut your eyes. “unfortunately.”
“so…how bad was it?” he asked, already seeming to know the answer.
your head tipped back against the cupboard, the cool surface steadying you.
“he called me dramatic,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“ouch.” he made the sound like a real wince. “what’d you do, insult his shirt?”
despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “no. i just didn’t want to sleep with him.”
the quiet that followed was brief, but you felt it; he was biting back his first thought and thinking of something more appropriate to say.
“ah,” he said finally, voice dry. “god forbid you make a decision about your own body.”
you snorted, the sound sharp in your throat. “right? how dare i.”
“so you blocked him?” he asked, though it sounded more like certainty than a question.
“while he was walking me home,” you admitted, reaching into the box for another stale cookie.
his laugh rolled through the receiver, low and warm. “brutal and efficient…i respect it.”
the sound pulled a laugh out of you too, small and worn around the edges, before it faded back into quiet.
his voice softened in the pause. “you doing okay, though?”
you hesitated, not because you didn’t want to tell him, but because you couldn’t figure out how to shape the heaviness in your chest into words.
“i’m tired,” you said at last, the words too small for what you actually meant. “not just tonight. it’s the kind of tired that sleep doesn’t fix.”
“mm.” his agreement was soft, a sound that told you he knew exactly what that felt like, and that he’d been there more times than he could count.
his breathing stayed steady in your ear, present in a way that made the silence feel less empty.
“how did you even know it went badly?” the question slipped out before you could stop it.
“because you picked up,” he answered simply, like that explained everything.
you frowned at the ceiling, not satisfied. “that doesn’t even make sense.”
there was movement on his end again, the soft rustle of fabric and a dull thud in the background, though his voice never faltered.
“you never pick up during good dates,” he reasoned. a pause stretched, just long enough for the smile in his voice to be obvious. “not that you’ve ever actually had one.”
your mouth fell open, half offended, half amused. “you’re such an asshole.”
“tell me i’m wrong.” the grin in his voice was obvious, even without seeing his face.
you opened your mouth, ready to argue, but nothing came out. you knew he was right.
“yeah. that’s what i thought.” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction.
“you’re insufferable,” you muttered.
“and right,” he shot back without missing a beat, the faint shuffle of noise still bleeding through the line.
you squinted, suspicion tugging. “seriously, what are you doing? it sounds like you’re losing a fight with your furniture.”
“i’m coming over,” he said easily, the kind of casual certainty that came from years of getting away with it.
“jiyong—” you started, fully ready to argue with him.
“don’t even start,” he cut in. “you’re not winning this one.”
“you don’t have to come,” you mumbled, curling tighter on the kitchen floor. “my apartment is a disaster, and i look like i’ve been hit by a bus.”
“cool,” he said, not missing a beat. “and?”
you blinked. “and i don’t want you to see me like this?”
his laugh slipped through, low and amused. “please. i’ve seen worse. like that night you got super wasted, missed the bathroom stall completely, and made me hold your hair while you cried into the toilet about how you were ‘too pretty to suffer like this.’”
you let out a dramatic groan, dragging your palm down your face. “you swore you’d never bring that up again.”
“i lied,” he said, sounding far too pleased with himself. “messy hair and a graveyard of takeout boxes don’t even crack your top ten. i’ve watched you full-body sob during tangled.”
“that was emotional,” you defended.
“it was,” he agreed easily. “your eyes were swollen for hours afterwards.”
“you’re unbearable,” you muttered.
“maybe,” he said lightly, “but i’m still coming over. you don’t get to argue with me about it, either. i’m already out of the house.”
you shook your head, pressing the phone tighter to your ear. “this feels like harassment.”
his laugh came easy, smug enough to make your chest tighten in spite of yourself. “yeah, yeah. file a complaint when i get there. i’ll see you in ten.”
he ended the call before you could get another word in.
you stayed on the floor a little longer, the kitchen tiles cool against your legs.
your bra strap had slipped down your arm, the dress from earlier felt too tight, and the lingering scent of ramen from your date was starting to make your stomach turn.
eventually, you peeled yourself off of the floor and padded toward your bedroom, tugging at zippers and straps as you walked.
you made it to your room without bothering to flick on the light.
the soft outline of jiyong’s hoodie was easy to spot in the dark, still draped over your desk chair like it had been waiting for you.
you slipped it on and tugged a pair of cotton shorts from the drawer without bothering to check which ones they were.
you were already turning back towards the kitchen before you’d fully registered the choice; like your body had already decided for you.
the only light came from the lamp in the living room and the soft glow above the stove, casting a dim warmth over the mess you said you’d clean hours ago.
piled up boxes. dirty dishes. the garbage you should have changed yesterday.
none of it was catastrophic; just enough to be annoying.
you lingered in the doorway, taking it all in. like maybe, if you stared hard enough, the mess would clean itself.
you thought about moving. picking up a box, rinsing a dish, doing the bare minimum to prove that you weren't completely useless.
you stood there long enough to accept it wasn't going to happen.
you couldn't help but laugh at how pathetic it all felt.
it was a five minute job at best, yet you still allowed yourself to sink back down to the floor, because avoidance had always came easier than effort.
the apartment was quiet for all of thirty seconds before his voice crashed through it, loud and certain, like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to make an entrance.
“yo,” jiyong called out. “sorry i’m late—traffic was actual hell, and your street is like a one-way to satan. also,” he paused, mostly for dramatic effect, “i brought some noodles and that weird mango drink you like. worship me accordingly.”
you leaned off the cupboards to glance toward the entrance. “you’re not late,” you said, flatly. “i told you not to come.”
“and yet,” he replied, already kicking off his shoes. “here i am.”
he crouched down to fix them; heel to toe, perfectly aligned with yours like it was second nature.
it was just shoes. nothing more.
except most men you’d gone out with would’ve kicked halfway across the floor, expecting you to deal with it later.
the care he gave to something so small shouldn’t have meant anything, but the heat that flickered low in your stomach said otherwise.
you dismissed it just as quickly as it came, telling yourself it was just the bad date making scraps of effort look bigger than they actually were.
with a groan, you tipped onto your back, landing against the tile with a quiet thud. one arm draped across your eyes, the other one splayed out like you’d officially given up. “god, you're annoying.”
“love you too,” he muttered, easing the bags onto the counter, careful not to knock over the leaning tower of unopened mail.
he turned and pulled the fridge open with one hand, already bracing himself. “wow. shredded cheese, expired oat milk, and…ranch? you’ve really outdone yourself.”
“oh my god,” you peeked out from under your arm to glare at him. “i literally had ramen earlier.”
he glanced at the takeout container still sitting on the counter; unopened and untouched.
“that from your date?” he asked, already tugging off the lid. “what, was the guy’s moustache so gross you lost your appetite?”
“can you not,” you sighed, laughter sneaking into your voice despite your best efforts.
he barely reacted. “you didn’t even eat this. the broth has a film.”
you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to argue. “stop inspecting my trash like a raccoon.”
“stop living like a raccoon,” he shot back. “and sit up. this is getting depressing.”
“no,” you said. “maybe i like the floor.”
“my bad,” he said, stepping over you without hesitation. “i’ll leave you two alone, then.”
he picked up your container of ramen you'd abandoned on the counter, emptied the broth into the sink, and scraped the noodles into the trash.
there was no hesitation. no second thought.
only quick, deliberate movements carried out with the kind of ease that came from knowing exactly what needed to be done.
if it were up to you, the container would have gone straight into the trash, broth and all.
yet for some reason, it stayed in his hands.
he held it under the stream of hot water, and watched it spill over the sides until the cloudy film began to dissolve. he made it look so natural, as if rinsing it had always been the obvious choice.
without breaking his rhythm, he crouched down and tugged open the cabinet beneath the sink. his hand slipped inside, bypassing the clutter you usually shoved in there, until his palm landed on the caddy tucked against the wall.
he didn’t fumble or search. his fingers closed around the sponge instantly, and pulled it free in one smooth motion.
you stayed frozen on the floor, eyes locked on the way he worked it over the container.
the water slid over his tattoos like it had chosen that path on purpose, dragging your gaze there and daring you to keep staring.
every drop seemed designed to make you notice the strength in his hands and the flex of his fingers, until you couldn’t stop imagining what else they could do if they turned their attention to you instead.
before you could spiral any further, he rinsed the last of the bubbles away and placed the container neatly into the drying rack, never once glancing in your direction.
he wasn’t doing it for praise. he wasn’t trying to make a point, either.
he simply noticed what needed to be done, and instead of judging you or making you feel guilty for letting it sit, he took care of it himself without needing a single thank you.
it shouldn’t have made your stomach drop. it shouldn’t have made your mouth go dry.
yet the heat was already there, rushing low until you felt damp against the cotton of your shorts. you pressed your thighs together, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t as obvious as it felt.
but there was no denying it. your body didn’t care about the logic. it only cared about the way his hands moved, sure and unbothered, as if caring for the mess you’d left behind came easier to him than leaving it.
your eyes followed him as he moved towards the garbage. he gathered the bag in his hands, twisting it into a knot with an easy strength that made his forearms flex, tattoos shifting with every pull.
it was quick and efficient; the kind of movement that never asked to be noticed.
he placed it by the door, not just to move it out of the way, but with the unspoken intention of taking it out later. the kind of small, thoughtless promise no one else had ever made you.
when he stepped back into the room, you told yourself he had to be finished by now, though every part of you already knew he wasn’t.
the fabric of his sweats pulled tight across his thighs as he crouched again, reaching for the cabinet.
a new bag rustled open in his hands, his fingers working with quiet certainty as he slipped it into the bin. each edge was pressed down carefully, tucked into place until it held exactly the way you liked it.
a task that should’ve looked mundane somehow carried weight in his hands. your pulse climbed in uneven beats, chest tight, as if the air in the room had turned heavier just because he was in it.
there was nothing seductive in what he did, yet every precise movement drew the heat higher until your body responded as though he’d touched you directly.
too many bad dates had taught you to not expect this kind of care.
you were used to men who thought effort stopped at sending a text, and who never lifted a finger unless it benefited them.
the guy from tonight hadn't even bothered to hold the door open for you, so the thought of him replacing a garbage bag was almost laughable.
most men had always treated care as an obligation; something only performed because they felt they had to.
with jiyong, it was instinct; as natural as his next breath.
something in you gave way the longer you watched him.
it became too easy to let your mind wander, to twist the steady rhythm of his hands into something else; something meant just for you.
suddenly, his hands weren’t cleaning anymore. they were gripping your hips, sliding lower until his fingers pressed between your thighs, stroking through the damp heat he’d already put there without even trying.
you could almost feel them pushing inside, filling you with the same easy certainty he carried into every small thing he did.
the realization of what you’d just imagined made your eyes snap shut, mortified at your own mind and yet powerless against the pulse it left thrumming through you.
by the time you found the courage to open them again, he was drying his palms against his sweats, shoulders rolling back as if he’d just wrapped up a shift.
“alright,” he said, stretching with a groan, joints popping as his hoodie slid higher. “time to get up, princess.”
you didn’t budge. your cheek stayed pressed to the tile, knees pulled in close, hair half-in your face.
he tipped his head at you. “hello? earth to y/n.”
you blinked. “what?”
“i said it’s time to get up,” he repeated, flat like it was obvious. “we’re not eating dinner with you laid out like a crime scene.”
“i’m fine here,” you muttered into your arm.
he gave your hip a light kick with his socked foot. “i know i look sexy doing dishes,” he smirked, already catching the eye roll you tried to hide. “but come on. pull it together.”
your head tipped just enough to glare at him. “you’re delusional.”
“and you’re dramatic,” he shot back without missing a beat, crouching just enough to extend his hand toward you. “now get up before i drag you to the couch myself.”
your lips twitched, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a smile. “i’d like to see you try,” you mumbled, even as your hand slipped into his.
he tugged you up in one smooth pull, steadying you with a hand at your back until your feet found the floor again.
the touch was brief, casual, but your skin still burned under it.
you shook him off a little too quickly, ducking your head like maybe he wouldn’t notice. his brows lifted anyway, but he let it slide.
“come on,” he said, already reaching for the takeout bags on the counter. “i didn’t bring all of this food over just so you could mope on the floor.”
you trailed him into the living room, trying not to stare at the way his shoulders shifted under his hoodie as he carried the takeout.
he collapsed onto the couch, bags spread across the table like he owned the place.
you hovered for a beat before sitting beside him, close but not too close, hoping he wouldn’t feel the heat radiating off of your body.
“so,” he started, tearing open the first container, “daesung threw a tantrum when i told him you weren’t coming to rehearsal today.”
your lips tugged at one corner. “define tantrum.”
“like…fully rolling on the floor,” he said, chopsticks already clicking into place. “claimed he couldn’t get through practice without his number one fan watching.”
“sounds about right.” you said, easily picturing his dramatics in your head.
“youngbae even backed him up,” he went on. “got all serious about how you’re ‘the glue that holds us together.’” he mimed quotes in the air, rolling his eyes.
your laugh slipped out before you could stop it.
he turned his head upon hearing the sound, like he’d been waiting for it, then reached for another container. the lid snapped open, steam spilling up between you.
“they’re ridiculous.” you said, shaking your head.
“it gets worse,” he assured, “seunghyun told everyone in the studio that you were cheating on him.” he said casually, as if it wasn’t the wildest thing to say.
your brows shot up. “cheating? he and i aren’t even—” you cut yourself off with a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head again. “my god, he’s so delusional.”
jiyong’s smirk tilted, like he wanted to say more, but he just went back to portioning noodles.
you watched him work. how his hands moved quick and precise without thought. the crease in his brow when the chopsticks slipped.
the way his shoulder brushed yours when he reached for another box, like he didn’t even register the contact.
it left you warm and restless, shorts clinging, pulse tripping over itself.
you forced yourself still, arms wrapped tight around your stomach, hoping he couldn’t read what was written all over your body.
without warning, he slid the plate onto your lap, already reaching for another.
you glanced down ready to thank him, only to freeze.
every bite was exactly what you liked; no stray toppings, no sides bleeding into each other. even the noodles sat neat, twisted in their own space like he’d portioned them with care.
your brows furrowed. “wait…this is for me?”
“yeah?” his tone was flat, chopsticks already busy over his own plate.
“no, but—you separated everything.” you gestured vaguely at the plate, thrown. “none of the food’s even touching.”
he shrugged like it wasn’t worth noticing. “yeah. you hate when it does.”
your mouth opened, stalled. “since when do you—”
“since always.” his smirk tugged faint, eyes still on the food. “i just pay attention. relax, it’s not that deep.”
you sat there, pulse loud in your ears, trying to pretend it wasn’t.
your shorts clung tighter when you shifted, and the heat crawling up your neck made the plate almost too warm to balance on your lap.
by the time he leaned back with his own food, your eyes hadn’t left him once.
his brows drew together, catching it instantly. “what?”
you blinked. “what?”
“you’re staring,” he said, chopsticks frozen midair like he’d caught you red-handed.
“am not,” you muttered, keeping your eyes locked on the plate in your lap.
“are too,” he shot back, smirk tugging as his chopsticks hovered. “seriously, what’s your deal?”
your pulse jumped. you shifted, tugging your knee in closer, the words spilling before you could catch them. “you’re just…way too thoughtful.”
he blinked, deadpan. “that’s a crime now?”
“no, it’s—” you waved a hand at the table, words tripping. “you cleaned, you set everything up, you made my plate exactly right without even asking—”
he glanced up mid-bite, chopsticks pausing. “uh-huh.”
“and you didn’t even hesitate, you just—” your voice pitched higher, flustered. “you just did it, like it was nothing—”
he reached for his bottle of water, lifting it toward his mouth, eyes narrowing with a half-smile. “because it is nothing.”
“it’s not nothing, ji!” you shot back, heat crawling up your neck. “it’s—it’s hot, okay?”
he choked mid-sip, coughing and laughing all at once, nearly spraying water across the table as his shoulders shook.
at the same time, you slapped your hand over your mouth, instantly mortified. “oh my god.”
he was still coughing through a laugh, sleeve dragging across his mouth as his grin broke wide. “hot?” his voice cracked, half-raspy. “you think me scrubbing your dishes is hot?”
“nope,” you blurted through your hand. “you’re hearing things.”
his eyes lit like he’d just been handed blackmail material for life. “unbelievable. years of friendship, and this is how i find out your kink is…choreplay?”
“shut up.” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face.
“no fucking way.” his hand patted at his sweats like he was checking his pockets. “where’s my phone. the boys have to hear this—”
your stomach dropped, panic snapping through you. “don’t you dare.”
his grin only widened, his hands now patting down the front pocket of his hoodie like he was already halfway to victory. “oh, i definitely dare.”
you scrambled to shove your plate onto the coffee table, causing the chopsticks to clatter against porcelain in your rush. “nope. nope. absolutely not—”
he’d barely gotten his fingers inside of his pocket before you launched yourself across the couch, tackling him sideways into the cushions.
he landed flat on his back with a thud, and you climbed over him, straddling his hips while reaching desperately for his hoodie pocket.
“this is an invasion of privacy!” he gasped, twisting under you, but his laugh broke through every word.
“you don’t need privacy!” you shot back, breathless, hair falling in your face. “you need to shut up!”
his free hand darted to your side, fingers digging right into the spot he knew would make you squeal.
you squirmed against him, shrieking through your laughter. “stop, you asshole!”
he was laughing so hard his voice cracked, words tumbling out between breaths. “you picked the fight—i’m just defending myself!”
you finally slipped your hand into his pocket and yanked his phone free.
“mine!” you yelled triumphantly as you tossed it gently onto the carpet, way out of reach.
he burst out laughing, head sinking back into the cushion, chest shaking under you. “unreal,” he wheezed, grin splitting wide. “you just committed straight-up theft.”
“it was self-defense,” you corrected, still straddling his hips as you tried to hold him down. “you were about to ruin my life.”
his hands came up half-heartedly, bracing against your thighs as his laugh cracked again.
“you literally said i was hot when all i did was rinse a bowl—” he bucked his hips just enough to throw you off balance, making you squeal. “imagine if i started mopping the floors.”
“stop talking.” you slapped your hand over his mouth, desperate to stop the teasing.
he looked at you with mock innocence, then dragged his tongue across your palm.
you yanked it back with a yelp. “gross!”
he laughed so hard it broke into hiccups, chest still shaking.
your forehead pressed into his hoodie, both of you still caught in the aftershock of laughter.
the sound trailed off in little bursts, until it faded completely. quiet settled around you, thicker than it had any right to be.
you lifted your head without meaning to, hair falling forward, your fists still bunched in the fabric of his hoodie.
he was right there; flat on his back, smile softening into something slower that tugged at your ribs.
the awareness of it all seeped in slowly, until every place your body touched his became impossible to ignore.
your thighs hugged his sides. your hips were pressed flush against his. his palms rested warm and steady on your bare legs, fingers splayed like he didn’t trust himself to move.
your faces hovered only inches apart from one another, the remnants of his grin fading as the air thickened between you.
the echo of laughter still hummed in your chest, but it was drowned beneath the heavy thud of your heartbeat.
the ache you’d been pushing down all night came rushing back, hot and relentless, flooding every nerve until there was no disguising it.
every slight shift of your hips made it worse. your slick heat pressed tight against him; betraying just how badly you wanted more.
his eyes held yours, steady and certain, as if he could read every thought you were trying to bury.
a quick flicker down to your lips slipped past his control; small enough to deny, but impossible for you to miss.
the second his gaze lifted to yours again, the tension cracked.
you closed the gap in a rush, kissing him with all the want you’d been choking down.
he answered immediately, almost as if he’d been holding back just as much. the kiss was deep from the start, his mouth moving against yours with a kind of certainty that stole your breath.
his palm skimmed up your bare thigh until it fit at your waist, while his other hand curled behind your neck, coaxing you closer, unable to bear an inch of distance.
the pressure of his hands anchored you as he shifted beneath you, pushing up from the cushions until he was sitting.
the movement never broke the kiss; it only dragged you closer, chest to chest, your legs tightening instinctively around his hips.
his mouth worked over yours hungrily, lips parting like he couldn’t get enough. you clutched at his hoodie, fingers knotted tightly in the fabric, pulling harder to erase whatever little space remained.
every brush of his mouth made your pulse spike harder. every drag of his lips left your lungs aching, but neither of you were willing to stop long enough to breathe.
his lips moved against yours like he already knew every secret you’d been hiding. each shift was deliberate, practiced without practice, pulling raw sounds out of you before you even realized you were making them.
his hand left the back of your neck first, dragging slow over your skin before slipping down to join the other at your waist.
his hands slipped lower in a slow drag, following the natural curve of your body until both palms curved around your ass, pressing you down against the growing buldge in his sweatpants.
the press of him right against your center dragged a moan from your throat before you could stop it, hips rolling down on instinct, desperate to feel more of the friction you’d been aching for all night.
“breathe,” he murmured against your mouth, voice steady even through his own ragged breath. “i’ve got you.”
your hips rolled again before you could stop them, chasing more of the thick heat beneath his sweats. the noise he made vibrated through your chest, deep and broken, sending sparks racing down your spine.
you clenched around nothing, thighs tightening at his sides, every nerve screaming for more.
“ji,” you whispered, voice trembling. “please.”
his thumb brushed slowly over your side through your hoodie, grounding you even as his mouth swallowed your plea.
“i hear you,” he said, rough and certain. “but we’re not doing this here. not on a couch.”
the protest tangled with want on your tongue, but you gave a shaky nod. “okay,” you breathed.
his grip tightened, both hands already firm at your ass, and in one motion, you were lifted off the couch.
your legs wrapped around his waist before you even thought about it, a startled laugh breaking from your chest as his mouth chased yours again.
he carried you like he’d done it a thousand times, steady even with your legs locked tight around his waist.
your back met the mattress before you realized you had made it to your bedroom, the mattress dipping under your shared weight as he laid you down without breaking the kiss.
he hovered above, his weight balanced on one arm, while his other hand found your jaw. his thumb traced lightly along your skin as his eyes searched yours. “still with me?”
“still with you,” you whispered.
he brushed a strand of hair away from your lips, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary before adjusting the pillow under your head.
he caught the details no one else ever did, every small adjustment only served as proof that he knew exactly what you needed before you said a word.
his hand drifted lower again, pausing at the hem of your hoodie. “can i?” he asked, eyes locked on yours.
“please,” you breathed, the word spilling out before you could catch it.
he pulled the hoodie over your head in one smooth motion, leaving you in nothing but your bra and shorts.
the air hit cool against your skin, though it was nothing compared to his stare, heavy with years of memorizing every detail; knowing you in ways no one else ever had.
“fuck,” he murmured as his hand lifted to your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. “you’re so beautiful.”
your breath hitched, chest pressing up into his. heat rushed over your skin, your body giving you away as your hips shifted closer, chasing him without thought.
his lips moved with purpose, each kiss a quiet claim as he trailed them along your jaw, across your cheek, down the line of your throat, and back up to your lips.
his mouth traced you in reverence, each kiss tugging another tremor loose, stoking the ache already clawing at you.
his hands followed the same rhythm, palms sliding over your sides, dragging heat everywhere they lingered.
he touched you like he already knew what your body was asking for; steady where you needed grounding, firmer where you were aching for pressure.
he moved with purpose, mapping you in ways that left no part of you untouched, and no ache unanswered.
your fingers slipped to the hem of his hoodie, tugging at it clumsily, more desperate than precise. you weren’t subtle about it, trying to work it up his torso without breaking the kiss.
his mouth curved against yours in a half-laugh, half-groan. “you know you can just ask, right?” he murmured, amused even through the rasp of his breath.
you rolled your eyes, breath catching anyway. “just take it off,” you whispered, impatience clear in your voice.
he rocked back onto on his heels, and tugged the hoodie off in one smooth pull. the shirt beneath stretched across his shoulders, while his sweats slouched low on his hips like an invitation.
your gaze slipped down, dragging his with it, until you were both staring at the obvious wet mark stamped across his lap.
your stomach flipped, eyes flying wide before you could stop them. his laugh cracked out, caught somewhere between disbelief and delight.
“wow,” he said, brows shooting up. “i rinse one bowl and you baptize my pants?”
you slapped a hand over your mouth, laughter already breaking through. “oh my god—no! that is not from me!”
his grin only widened, mischief written all over it. “no? so what, i pissed myself?”
you let out a choked laugh, shoulders shaking. “maybe you did!”
he leaned closer, laughter still shaking out of him, his hands warm and steady at your hips. “mm. want me to check your shorts, just to be sure?”
you shifted in his grip, laughing helplessly even as your face burned. “absolutely not!”
his grin turned smug, laughter still ghosting in his voice. “that’s what i thought.” his thumbs pressed deeper into your hips, steady and sure. “guess initiative really does go a long way, huh?”
you rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. “apparently.”
he hummed, pleased, leaning in closer until his nose brushed yours. “good answer,” he mumbled.
his mouth found yours again, the trace of a smile still there, though it melted quickly into something hungrier.
his knee slid between your thighs, nudging them apart a little further, while his hands tightened at your hips, keeping you close.
you gasped into him, the sound breaking into a whimper when he angled lower, kissing along your jaw.
“there she is,” he murmured, voice brushing warm against your pulse before his lips dragged down your neck. “so fucking sweet for me.”
your breath caught as your hands slipped to his chest, sliding lower, reaching for the hem of his shirt. he caught your wrists easily, pressing a soft kiss into your open palm.
“not yet,” he whispered, steady and certain. “this is about you.”
his mouth trailed down slowly, lingering against your collarbone before sinking down the curve between your breasts.
his lips lingered like he had all the time in the world, and every deliberate pause only made your need claw harder, trembling for the next touch.
he knew exactly what you needed without you ever having to say it.
he caught it in the way your legs tightened, in the way your hips tipped toward him, in the twitch of your hands gripping the sheets.
he noticed everything, always had, and now he was using it to unravel you piece by piece.
“i’ve been dreaming about this for so long,” he breathed against the lace of your bra, voice low like he almost couldn’t believe you were real.
his hand slid beneath you, guiding your back into a soft arch. the clasp of your bra gave way under his fingers like it had been waiting for him, undone without him ever breaking from your skin.
the straps slipped down your shoulders, one after the other, and his mouth followed their path in slow devotion.
every new inch of bare skin was met with his lips, each kiss a quiet vow that nothing about you would be left unseen. he traced you with patience, as though to prove that you were worth memorizing in full.
his lips found the swell of your breast, his hands steadying you against the tremor of your own breath.
his lips lingered wherever they touched, tracing the faint lines that marked your skin as though they were meant to be cherished, never concealed.
“so beautiful,” he said, voice quiet but unshakably sure, like the words had been waiting years to fall out of him. “every inch of you.”
his tongue flicked over your nipple and the moan that tore from you was answered instantly by his own; muffled against your breast, like the taste of you undid him as much as his touch wrecked you.
your thighs shifted restlessly, helpless in their search for relief.
“you’re already trembling,” he breathed, kissing down over your ribs, following the soft curve beneath your breast. “and i’ve hardly touched you.”
your voice broke apart on his name. “ji—”
he didn’t look up, lips still moving like prayer, heat spilling across your skin. “no one’s ever touched you like this, have they?”
the truth of it broke you open, unraveling you from the inside out. your breath faltered, stuttered, until it was nothing but gasps and moans, your hips tilting into his hands without thought.
“i—” the attempt at words dissolved into moans, “fuck—oh my god—”
his palms slid down, fingers tracing the edge of your shorts, stopping just above where you needed him most.
“yeah,” he said, already knowing the proof had been in your body all along. “i figured.”
instead of giving in right away, he bent to your waist, his lips dragging heat over the skin just above your shorts.
“they never earned this,” he said, voice quiet but edged with conviction. “never learned you like this.”
“oh god,” the sound tore out of you, thin and desperate, your fingers curling around his wrist with no strength behind them.
he took your weak hold as encouragement, not resistance.
“they didn’t take their time,” he whispered, lips tracing slowly over the softness of your stomach. “didn’t listen.”
your fingers found his hair, tugging softly, guiding him closer without words.
“p-please,” you pleaded, the word breaking before it even left your throat.
his head lifted just enough to meet your eyes, steadying you in an instant.
“oh, baby.” his voice softened as one hand left your waist, reaching for the pillow beside you.
he slid it close, eyes never leaving yours. “lift up for me, princess,” he coaxed gently. “just a little.”
you obeyed, lifting just enough for him to slide the pillow breath you. his hands adjusted it with care, easing your hips down until he was sure you were comfortable.
“there we go,” he muttered, brushing his thumb over your skin. “that’s better.”
his thumb traced idle circles at your hip, grounding you while the other hand slid lower. when his fingers brushed the band of your shorts, he lifted his gaze, catching yours with a question he didn’t need to voice.
the quiet in his eyes made your chest ache; knowing he would wait if you asked him to. your body answered before your words could, hips tilting up in silent permission.
his lips tugged into a soft smile, eyes fixed on you as he drew the fabric down.
he shifted your shorts and underwear down slowly, guiding the fabric over your hips with deliberate care; every motion unhurried, every detail handled with care.
he lifted your leg with care, his hand steady at your calf. his lips pressed to your ankle first, soft and lingering, before traveling upward in slow succession.
each kiss trailed higher — the curve of your calf, the dip at your knee, the inside of your thigh — like he was intent on worshipping every step closer to where you ached for him most.
your nails dug into the sheets as his palms splayed over your thighs, easing them apart.
“breathe for me, sweetheart,” his voice was strained, as if he was holding himself back just to guide you. “just breathe.”
your body obeyed his words before your mind could, chest lifting with a shaky breath.
he didn’t let you finish it.
his mouth found you the next second; no hesitation, no warning. just him, warm and certain, like he’d been holding back only for as long as you could bear.
the pillow lifted you right into his mouth, every inch of you exposed to the slow drag of his tongue. his mouth worked with a patience that burned, each movement a vow to remember every detail of you.
your fingers threaded into his hair, desperate for something to hold on to.
“oh my—fuck—” the words tore out half-formed before collapsing into a moan you couldn’t contain.
he groaned in response, the sound reverberating against you as his grip tightened on your thighs, steadying you when your body tried to jolt away.
the way he moved against you was unhurried, and devastating in its precision. every swipe of his tongue felt like he already knew what would break you apart.
your chest heaved, breath shattering into pieces. you tightened your grip in his hair, dragging him closer without thinking.
he let you guide him, humming low like the taste of you was everything he’d ever wanted.
heat rushed through your stomach, twisting tighter with every pass of his mouth.
you were soaked. aching. unraveling with every second he stayed between your thighs.
“feels so good—” you choked out, hand fisting in the sheets now. “i can’t—it’s—jiyong.”
he paused just long enough to glance up at you, eyes dark and blown wide with need. “you’re doing so fucking good for me, baby.” he praised, voice filled with honesty.
he found you again without pause, urgency written in every motion. his lips tightened over you, his tongue pushing deeper than before.
your head tipped back, voice spilling out like prayer. “don’t—please don’t—don’t stop—please.”
another groan broke free from his mouth, vibrating through your every nerve.
pleasure ripped through you so fast it stole the air from your lungs, leaving you clinging to him as though he was the only thing keeping you tethered.
“that’s it,” he whispered against you, voice low, almost reverent. “let it happen, baby.”
your thighs quivered around his shoulders, hips twisting helplessly.
his hold only tightened, dragging you deeper into every surge of pleasure until you had no other choice but to give in.
“ji—fuck,” you gasped, tears stinging from the intensity of it all.
he slowed his pace, pressing soothing kisses as his thumbs circled your skin.
“that’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured. “you did so good for me.”
your chest heaved, lungs struggling to catch up with the aftershock.
when his gaze lifted, the change was immediate; eyes softening on sight, like tasting you had only deepened the reverence already written into him.
your lungs were still searching for air when he started climbing back up your body, mouth brushing every inch along the way.
your thigh. your stomach. the underside of your breast. your collarbone.
each kiss softer than the last, like he was pulling you back into yourself piece by piece.
by the time he found your mouth, you were already leaning into him, reaching before you realized it.
his lips lingered, smiling faintly against yours. “felt good, huh, beautiful girl?”
a broken laugh slipped out, shaky as you tried to catch your breath. “good?” you asked, head shaking in disbelief. “ji, no one’s ever—” you paused, voice breaking, “not like that.”
his grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, soft but smug, like he couldn’t help himself.
“yeah?” he teased gently, eyes searching yours. “that’s because they were all idiots.”
he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours before kissing the corner of your mouth. “you deserve more than they’ll ever know how to give.”
his words sank deep, leaving you trembling all over again. you tried to laugh, but it broke halfway when his lips caught yours, sealing the truth of his words right into you.
what began tender turned restless in seconds.
his mouth moved against yours, only you couldn’t help but deepen it, chasing him like you couldn’t get close enough.
his chest pinned you down as his hips dragged slowly between your thighs. you felt him, hard and thick through his sweats, sending another wave of heat to rip through you.
it didn’t matter that you’d already fallen apart once; your body lit up for him all over again.
a whimper caught in your throat, swallowed by his kiss as your hands scrambled higher, clawing at his shirt.
you tugged like you were frantic; like the thin barrier of fabric was the only thing keeping you from breathing.
“off,” you rasped against his lips, desperate, the word breaking. “please—take it off.”
“yes, ma’am.” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, but it vanished the second your fingers brushed his waistband like you couldn’t wait a second longer.
you shoved his sweats down with shaking hands, boxers going along, nearly knocking him off balance in your urgency.
he huffed a laugh, eyes catching the hunger in yours. “greedy, are we?” he chuckled, sounding more undone than smug.
“shut up.” you shot back, no patience for his teasing.
your eyes had already landed on him; thick and already slick at the tip.
heat rushed hot up your chest, a grin tugging weakly at your lips despite yourself. “so that’s what i do to you?”
he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “you know what you do to me.”
“still,” you whispered, tugging him closer, “it’s nice to have the evidence.”
a rough laugh slipped from him, cut short as his mouth slammed back onto yours, heavy with need.
your legs wrapped around his waist without thought, but he held himself back; grinding his hard length through your slick folds with a patience that felt merciless, his lips still on yours like he needed to drink down every sound before giving you more.
“turn over for me, baby.” his voice was rough at the edges, but his touch stayed soft, guiding you onto your stomach like he was handling something precious.
as you shifted, the pillow resting underneath your hips slipped slightly.
before you could react, his hand was already there, sliding it back beneath your stomach with quiet care; making sure the angle favoured your comfort more than his own.
“there we go,” he muttered, like he was admiring a work of art. “just like that, angel. fuck—look at you.”
you could feel the heat of him behind you, hovering close, and the way his hands coasted up and down your sides; thumbs pressing in like he was trying to memorize every inch.
“you’re unreal,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “my fucking dream girl.”
his palms settled at your waist, urging your hips higher before gliding up your spine, pressing lightly between your shoulders until your chest sank into the mattress.
“fuck, baby,” he groaned as he lined himself up. “you’re gonna kill me.”
the blunt press of him at your entrance had you gasping, nails twisting in the sheets.
“ji—” your voice cracked, the sound nothing but a plea.
“i know, i know.” his hand smoothed down your side, soothing you. “just breathe, beautiful. i’ve got you.”
he slid in with agonizing slowness, every inch a stretch that stole the air directly from your lungs.
a broken sound escaped you, and his groan followed fast, spilling into the space between your bodies.
“f-fuck—” your cried helplessly, “it’s—oh my—fuck—”
he bottomed out with a shudder, his hips pressed flush against you, both of you shaking with the effort it took not to fall apart right there.
his forehead dropped between your shoulders, breath hot against your skin.
“jesus christ—” he groaned, the sound rough and reverent all at once. “you feel—fuck, baby, you feel insane.”
your back arched, body clenching around him, another helpless moan tearing through you. “too much—no, it’s—god, ji—it’s so good.” the words spilled broken, tumbling past your lips before you could catch them.
his hand slid to your stomach, pulling you up into him, grounding you through the dizzy stretch. “that’s it,” he murmured, kissing along your shoulder blade. “you’re doing—f-fuck—you’re perfect—fucking made for me.”
your thighs quivered, breath stuttering, but the need to feel him move was stronger than the ache. you shifted back against him, desperate. “please…move—i need—”
he groaned again, like your words undid him. “fuck—yeah, baby, i know.”
he slowly eased his hips back, dragging himself out until you thought you’d break, then pushed in again, steady and deep.
the rhythm was unhurried but merciless; every stroke deliberate, every thrust angled like he knew exactly how to pull you apart.
after a few slow strokes, his pace quickened; each thrust sinking deeper, chasing every sound that spilled from you.
“there it is—fuck, yeah. that’s it,” he breathed, forehead tipping down for a beat before he straightened again, eyes locked on the way your body yielded to him.
your moans spilled raw into the mattress, high pitched and broken, your hips rocking back into him without thought. “oh my god—don’t stop—please, ji, don’t—”
he answered with another thrust, sharp enough to punch a cry straight out of you.
“never,” he panted, jaw tight, reverence spilling through every word. “you feel too fucking good—i could stay here forever.”
your walls clenched tight around him, the build snapping faster than you could process.
“ji—i’m gonna—fuck—” the cry tore out of you as your whole body bowed into the mattress, release ripping straight through you.
he groaned at the feel of you breaking around him, hips stuttering once before he forced himself to steady, dragging it out for you instead of chasing his own end.
“fuck—yeah—” his voice cracked. “that’s it, angel…let go for me—just like that.”
your thighs shook uncontrollably, but his hands steadied you; one gripping your waist, the other pressing into your stomach, keeping you grounded as you unraveled.
the sob that followed buried itself in the sheets, your release hitting so hard it fractured every breath into ragged pieces.
he bent over you, lips trailing soft kisses along your spine, his hips still moving but gentler now, easing you down instead of pulling you higher.
“i’ve got you,” he whispered into your skin, kissing your shoulder like a vow. “just breathe for me, angel…that’s all you need to do.”
he eased out of you slowly, the sudden emptiness pulling a broken whimper from your throat before you could stop it. “ji—w-why…what are you—”
“shh, i know, sweetheart,” he soothed, palms steady as they skimmed your sides, guiding you gently. “just needed to see you. fuck—look at you. you think i could stop now?”
desire threaded through his voice, yet his hands remained careful, guiding you as if you were fragile in his hold. he eased you onto your back, settling your hips on the pillow with a care that made it clear he wouldn’t let you feel anything but comfort.
you let him move you, pliant in his hold, your body trembling as you blinked up at him. his hand cradled the back of your neck, thumb tracing lightly like he needed to feel you breathe.
he kissed your temple first, lingering there, before trailing down to your cheek.
his mouth wandered unhurriedly across your skin; tracing over your brow, brushing the bridge of your nose, grazing the corner of your lips.
“hi, beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, words cracked but full of awe.
your smile barely surfaced, dazed and weak, but it was there. “hi,” you breathed back.
his forehead tipped to yours, lips brushing in a fleeting kiss. “you okay?” he asked, though the look in his eyes said he already knew the answer.
your breath caught, a soft laugh tumbling out with your words. “more than okay.”
the corner of his mouth curved into a soft smile before he slid his hand down to steady your hip.
he lined himself up and pushed back in with one long, steady stroke. the stretch tore a gasp from your throat, your body clenching around him so hard it forced a groan straight out of him.
“jesus—” his voice cracked, forehead pressing to yours again. “baby, you feel—fuck—you’re so tight.”
your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, mouth falling open on a sound you couldn’t swallow down.
“ji—” it slipped broken from your lips, almost a sob. “it’s—s-so deep—oh my god.”
his palm pressed firm to your stomach, making sure you felt every inch of him. “there we go,” he rasped, kissing your jaw through ragged breaths. “you’re taking me so well, beautiful. you’re—fuck, you’re perfect.”
his hips pulled back, just enough to make you feel the loss, before he drove in sharper. the force knocked the air from your chest as your nails clawed down his shoulder blades.
“eyes on me,” he mumbled, catching your gaze. “don’t look away, baby—want to see you fall apart.”
your gaze clung to his until the next thrust stole it away, lids fluttering shut as another cry tore loose from your throat.
“no, no—look at me,” he urged, groaning when you blinked back up at him, glassy-eyed and trembling. “that’s it. good girl.”
your moans came fractured, tumbling past your lips with every push. “please—ji, please, just like that—f-fuck—feels so good, so good—”
“fuck—” his voice cracked, hips driving harder, the sound of you begging ripping the control straight out of him.
“oh my god—i’m gonna—” the words broke into a sob, your voice splintering. “jiyong, i—fuck—i can’t—”
his thrusts faltered, a groan tearing from his chest as he forced himself deeper. “yes, you can, angel. just a little more—fuck—i can feel you. you’re right there.”
you broke apart around him, crying out his name like it was the only word left in you. “jiyong—”
“that’s it—oh, fuck—that’s it, baby,” he gasped, forehead dropping to yours as his own rhythm fell apart. “come with me—yeah, just like that—fuck—”
your release tore through you, carrying his with it. your body squeezed around him, causing him to let out a wrecked moan as he came inside of you.
he stilled, chest pressed to yours as both of you trembled through the last shreds of release.
there was no detachment. no instinct to turn away. he hadn’t looked anywhere but at you.
when his breathing finally slowed, he pressed a soft kiss to your jaw. “are you okay?” he asked.
you nodded, unable to trust your voice.
he gave you a moment longer before easing out, slow and careful, drawing a broken whimper from your throat.
his mouth followed the loss; kissing the inside of your thigh, the curve of your hip, and the hollow below your ribs.
each one gentle and deliberate in their own way.
“stay here,” he said softly. “just rest, baby.”
your head fell back against the pillow in the faintest nod, eyes glassy with exhaustion.
he lingered a second longer, thumb brushing your cheek in a touch that felt reluctant, before finally pushing himself to stand.
he bent to grab his boxers from where they’d been tossed, sliding them on around his hips.
the quiet between you stretched thin, filled only by the sound of his breathing and the faint creak of the floor.
by the time he reached the door, your chest was already tight. you stayed where you were, staring up at the ceiling, the fan turning in lazy circles above you.
the longer you watched, the more the quiet shifted. at first it was just silence. the silence turned into space, which slowly turned into panic.
you weren’t naïve. you knew the script.
sex that good, that messy, that consuming, usually ended the same way.
a roll to the side. maybe a muttered ‘that was fun’. the scrape of denim. an excuse about the early morning.
sometimes the door would shut before you’d even pulled the sheets over yourself.
your heart sank.
what if this was that moment?
what if you’d just traded years of friendship for a few hours of wreckless, selfish pleasure?
what if you’d just ruined everything?
before the thought could spiral any further, the door creaked open again.
“hey,” he spoke softly, not wanting to startle you.
you blinked towards him, body still draped exactly where he’d left you
his boxers hung low on his hips, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, chest still flushed from the heat of you. a towel was slung over his shoulder, two water bottles gripped in one hand, a warm cloth in the other.
your throat went tight. “you came back,” you whispered, the words slipping before you could catch them.
his face softened immediately, something tender breaking through. “of course i did,” he said, stepping closer. “what—did you think i’d just disappear after that?”
you tried to smile, but it wavered.
“hey,” he said again, lowering onto the edge of the bed. “don’t go quiet on me now, pretty girl. not after you probably woke all of the neighbors up.”
a soft, broken laugh escaped your lips.
he bent to press a soft kiss to your knee. “scoot up a little, sweetheart. let me take care of you.”
his hands moved with quiet certainty, every touch measured and unhurried. patience lingered in everything he did; a tenderness you weren’t used to.
you felt the difference in your chest before you even felt it between your thighs.
no one had ever done this for you before.
the most you’d ever been given was a half-hearted towel tossed your way, like it was your job to deal with the aftermath alone.
but here he was, treating you like you were something worth handling with delicacy.
“i kept the pillow there,” he said quietly, “’cause i figured you’d be sore. didn’t want you shifting too much.”
he finished with quiet care, dropping the cloth and towel into your hamper before reaching for your hoodie on the floor.
he eased it over your head, guiding your arms through the sleeves, tugging it down until you were completely covered.
as he climbed back into the bed, you reached for him without thinking twice.
he was already leaning into you, arms sliding around your waist, pulling you against him like it was the only place you belonged.
“you still with me?” he asked, lips brushing your hair.
you nodded, eyes still shut until his voice pulled you back.
you blinked up at him as he dipped his head, catching your gaze. “you scared me for a second.”
your voice was small. “i just…wasn’t expecting you to come back.”
his brow furrowed, a little hurt, though his tone stayed soft. “come on. you really thought i’d leave you like that?”
you huffed out a laugh. “it wouldn’t be the first time someone did.”
his chest rose on a sigh as he shifted to really look at you. “baby…what kind of assholes are you fucking?”
the bluntness startled a laugh out of you. “you’ve heard all the stories,” you reminded him.
“unfortunately.” his hand stayed warm at your spine, steadying you. “and i hated every single one of them.”
you froze, but he continued nonetheless.
“you don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “listening to you try to laugh off how some guy left before you could even breathe again—” he paused, exhaling hard through his nose. “i swear, prison stripes nearly sounded worth it.”
“you never said anything.” you said, genuinely surprised at his words.
his lips lifted into a small smile, but the weight in his eyes gave him away.“never felt like my place.”
“ji…” you whispered.
he shook his head gently, already seeing where your thoughts were headed.
“you really don’t get it, do you?” his voice softened, a little rough at the edges.
“get what?” you murmured as your eyes searched his face.
his hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, so tender it made your chest ache.
“how easy you are to love.”
you froze, lungs stuttering like they’d forgotten how to work.
“i’ve wanted to do this right for so long,” he whispered, leaning his forehead to yours. “not just the sex. all of it. making you laugh. holding you when you cry. being the one who never leaves. giving you the kind of love you should’ve had all along.”
your lips parted, but no sound followed. the weight of his words pressed down until all you could do was hold his gaze, wide-eyed, undone by the gentleness in his voice.
“and if i ever have to hear about one more guy who made you feel like you were too much, or too emotional, or not worth sticking around for…” he shook his head again, softer this time. “i’ll lose my fucking mind. because you—”
he swallowed hard, trying to find the courage to continue. “you deserve someone who worships the ground you walk on. someone who thanks god every night that you chose him.”
you blinked hard, tears threatening to fall as a soft laugh escaped you. “you’re not supposed to make me cry after sex, idiot.”
“i meant what i said,” he told you, his lips curving into that same boyish grin you’ve adored for years.
tears slipped down your cheeks as you let out a shaky laugh, swatting weakly at his chest. “you are such an asshole.”
“am i wrong?” he smirked. “because you—” he paused, tapping your thigh, “—basically had tears running down your thighs from me washing, like, two dishes.”
you groaned, burying your face in his chest. “please never phrase it like that again.”
he laughed, the sound warm against your cheek. “don’t act like you didn’t whimper when i changed the garbage bag.”
you pulled back just enough to glare at him. “you are so full of yourself.”
his grin only widened, cocky and unbothered. “wait till you find out i sort my laundry by whites and darks.”
synopsis: you’re in paris with your boyfriend jiyong.
warnings: smut, 18+, oral, praise, unprotected sex, a lot of fluff, aftercare.
a/n: based off my fav song on taeyangs new album ‘quintessence’ (which yall are WAYYY too quiet about by the way.) enjoy!
the lights of the stunning city of paris shimmered over the river as you leaned over the railing of the bridge you and jiyong had accidentally stumbled across on your late night walk that evening. the cool breeze swept across your cheeks, but the warmth of him behind you made you forget it about it immediately.
jiyong wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your back against his chest gently and rested his chin comfortably against your shoulder. a small smile tugged at your lips at the familiar feeling, he’d brought you along to paris a lot but it never got old.
your eyes lit up as you pointed into the distance. “ji! look it’s the eiffel tower.” excitement filled your voice despite having seen it several times beforehand, paris with him felt softer and much warmer.
a quiet chuckle escaped his lips, vibrating against your shoulder as his fingers traced slow and careful circles against your stomach.
“mmm very beautiful jagi.” he murmured but you already knew he wasn’t talking about the view. you turned around in his arms and caught the way he was gazing at you, like the city didn’t even matter to him. his gaze was almost dreamy and it made your heart flutter.
“you’re staring ji.” you giggled.
a smirk spread across his face. “not like you mind it.” his voice dropped lower sending a rush of warmth onto your cheeks before he leaned down and kissed you softly.
your hands instinctively slid around his neck, fingers tangling in the longer hair at the nape of it. he’d been growing it out recently and you absolutely adored it and played with it whenever you could.
the kiss deepened naturally between you, unhurried whilst the paris wind swept through your hair and around the two of you. it felt unreal, like a scene from one of those romance movies jiyong always claimed he hated but watched them with you anyways.
he hummed softly against your lips as his hand wandered lower down to your ass, pulling you closer.
you laughed a little and pulled back before he got carried away. “not now jiyong let’s just go back.”
his lips formed an exaggerated pout immediately. “please?”
you scoffed trying to keep a straight face while he had that stupid expression on his face. “no puppy eyes, you’re old.”
he placed a hand on his chest, scoffing dramatically. “watch your mouth baby.”
“yeah, yeah.” you teased and grabbed his hand before he could complain further. “come on.”
he was still muttering under his breath but he let you drag him down the glowing streets of paris towards your hotel, his hand holding yours the entire time.
as you were walking you passed by a small street musician playing a slow melody on his violin and jiyong came to a halt.
you stopped too and blinked, confused. “what?”
he didn’t answer, just turned towards you and held out his hand. “dance with me.”
you stared wide eyed for a moment before laughing. “jiyong there’s literally no one else dancing.”
he shrugged. “so? we can start.”
before you could protest he gently pulled you closer as if you’d break and settled one hand on your waist, the other intertwined with yours. he slowly guided you into a lazy sway in the middle of the quiet paris street.
you had the biggest smile on your face, despite not wanting to dance moments ago. you noticed the moonlight had softened his features as he looked down at you with that loving gaze he always had with you and his messy hair falling into his eyes, making him look unreal as the music echoed around you.
it wasn’t perfect dancing, he was teasing half of the time stepping too close to hear you whine about it, but that made it even more special to you.
“you’re so cheesy.” you muttered, but you rested your head on his shoulder anyway.
“you love it though.” he smiled, and he wasn’t wrong.
he spun you around carefully, your laughter filling blending with the music in the quiet street. you carried on swaying under the full moon that had made an appearance tonight, the eiffel tower glittering in the distance.
eventually jiyong pressed a soft little kiss onto your forehead before lacing his warm hand with yours. “let’s go to the hotel now baby.” he sighed.
and so you walked back, stopping at a few small shops on the way, jiyong buying you everything you so much even looked at and you finally got back to the hotel.
you walked into your room flopping down onto the bed and jiyong immediately climbed on top of you, hands running over your curves and his lips finding yours in a messy kiss.
you grinded your body up into him as he embraced you and carried on kissing you, before trailing his hot lips down your neck and praising you in between every single one.
“my perfect girl.”
you threw your head back and sighed as he praised you like he meant it, and you knew he did.
“such a good girl for me.”
he said while kissing over your stomach making you shiver, his eyes looking up at yours.
you felt his hands brush at your waist band as he finished up with kissing and worshipping you like a god and before you knew it you felt his finger press down on your core through your panties.
“mm ji.” you whimpered as he started circling his finger tips gently on it.
“yeah, that feel good?” he murmured softly as he kissed your inner thighs gently as if rewarding you.
you fisted a bunch of his hair in your hand and moved his head closer to your aching clit. “please.”
“use your words sweetheart, what exactly do you want?” his voice still ever so soft.
you breathed heavily as he pressed his fingers more firmly over your clit. “eat me.” you whispered.
he didn’t waste a second before sliding your panties to the side, licking up the slick that was on your pussy already. “you taste so good baby.” was the last thing he said before licking inbetween your folds.
he went slowly at first, just gentle circles with the tip of his tongue before picking up his pace and you felt him start to trace out the letters of his name on your pussy with his tongue.
“who do you belong to.” he said raspily while going on to trace the letter ‘y’.
“fuck, you.” you said shakily, the pleasure over taking you.
“ah ah say my name. tell me exactly who you belong to.” he said sternly this time.
“jiyong, i belong to jiyong.” you groaned.
“good girl.” he cooed softly before tracing out the rest of his name with his tongue, making you shudder.
after some time of him playing around with his mouth you finally came all over his tongue and he swallowed as much as he could before gazing up at you with lustful, albeit soft, eyes and licked his swollen lips. god he looked sinful.
he gently flipped you so you were laying on your stomach and his gaze roamed over your bare back, taking in how your hips dipped and your back arched. “so fucking perfect and all mine.” he murmured before starting on the zipper of his pants.
he lined up his hard cock with your entranced and slowly pushed himself into you. he groaned softly before speaking to you. “you can take it baby, i know you can.” he muttered out. “be good for me.”
he praised as he thrusted a little bit harder into you but still making sure he was gentle. he pulled your hair into his hand and gently tugged your head back as he fucked you from behind.
his other hand hovered over your hip, the slight weight grounding you. “you feel so good.” you breathed out, burying your head into the pillow.
“mhm i know baby.” he grunted as he started fucking harder making you gasp. “fuck jiyong, faster.” you found yourself begging for more.
he ran his smooth hands over the soft skin of your bare back as he thrusted harder making a loud moan escape you. his touch, his cock buried inside you, god it was doing things.
he took his time with you, sometimes going slow to make it last and sometimes going fast to make it more pleasurable. the way he kept stopping and starting made the knot in your stomach tighten endlessly but you didn’t do anything about it, you secretly liked it.
“the sounds you make are so gorgeous jagi.” he whispered as you kept making little whines and moans. “and they’re all because of me.” he said before gripping your hips and sliding into you more.
you grinded back on him wanting to feel more friction and he threw his head back, making the hottest groan you’d ever heard in your life.
“fuck i’m close.” you whined as you felt him go faster. “go on baby let go for me hm.” he said roughly.
you finally let go with a loud cry and he came just after you did. you both stayed like that for a moment, taking in the euphoric feeling taking over. the dim hotel room, the warmth of your bodies, the distant smell of the vanilla candle in the corner of the room and jiyongs cologne. it was so peaceful.
he eventually pulled out and you turned to look at him. his gaze was no longer lustful but so full of love and care. “are you feeling okay baby.” he asked gently.
you smiled, your cheeks heating up a little as you saw how pretty he looked, he was absolutely glowing and his hair was damp and falling into his face making him look breathtaking. the soft look in his gorgeous brown eyes didn’t help either. “yeah i feel better than ever.” you spoke in a whisper.
he nodded and you both cleaned up after that, jiyong gently getting into a perfectly warm bath with you (that he ran ofcourse).
after he’d dried you off with the softest towel he could find, he gently tucked you in bed before climbing in next to you.
he laid back against the pillows next to you while you tucked yourself into his side, he wrapped one arm around you while the other played lazily with your fingers under the blanket.
your head rested on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heat as he rubbed your back gently. “good night baby.” he softly murmured.
“good night ji.” you whispered softly and you both fell asleep content, knowing you had eachother always and forever.
here’s a rock, limited press vinyl with a voice note for you my love !! thank you ~ order 16 of moonqz record store
pairing : Jiyong x fem!idol!reader
genre : smut, sweet - MDNI
description : At an award show after party, you run into him. The man you’ve done collabs and stages with countless times over the years. And maybe tonight would be the start of something both of you have been denying yourselves for too long. Then you wake up in his house the next morning.
contents / warnings : smut (unprotected sex, piv, drunk but consensual sex, light bondage, dom!jiyong, taunting/mocking, light praise and degrading, teasing, in a VIP room), alcohol, drinking, brief smoking mention
I freaking loved writing this oml ! requested by anon 🤍
The after party for an event was always chaotic. DJs and speakers playing the songs that belonged to the attendees, your own songs having being played a couple times, much to your dismay.
Just the volume alone was enough to leave a thumping vibration through the floor with each bass.
Champagne fizzled in crystal flutes, camera flashing from the VIP corner, the way every single person there looked effortlessly curated.
You were having fun for the most part, drinking more than you probably should be on a Sunday night, mini skirt short on your legs, showing just the right amount of skin to leave someone wondering.
You were in your element, glass half full, or half empty, hair wild yet beautiful under the coloured lights.
Award statues glinted on the table like centrepieces, but the real prize was seemed to be who could fake the most captivating laugh.
He’d been keeping an eye on you all night. To make sure you’re okay, he told himself.
Jiyong was the guy you’d go to when you needed help with lyrics, or needed an extra voice to lace with your own through a song.
You had done stages and collars together before, countless times, each one bringing you closer together.
If anyone were to ask you’d say your industry fans, and he would do the same.
But the last stage you done, which was tonight, was something neither of you could lie about.
You had featured in one of his new songs, and he had carefully chose that song to perform, noticeably attracting the attention of fans and media who already speculated about the two of you.
There was a part in the song where you had to stand facing each other, distance so close a microphone couldn’t even fit between you.
And being Jiyong he had to do the unexpected. Had to do something that would make every fan question every belief and thought about the two of you.
He had took of his cap, successfully hiding both your faces behind it before he had kissed your cheek.
Innocent enough if this wasn’t a famous industry where every move you made was being calculated and he hadn’t made it seem like he kissed you behind the mask.
Jiyong had claimed a spot in the corner booth, half hidden behind a haze of cigarette smoke and the careless tilt of a cap, the same one that was the reason your phone had been blowing up all night.
His glass was filled with an overly expensive drink, one he had found himself having more and more of that night.
He knew he probably shouldn’t be getting this drunk at a work after party, with his seniors and juniors around.
But not one person there wasn’t doing the same as him.
He didn’t miss the way you swayed a little too close to the edge of the dance floor, or how others eyes lingered on you, your figure, the curves perfectly captured by your outfit.
That was the part he hated the most.
You were dangerous in a way that no one would expect you to pull anything risky. Innocent in a way that maybe they should’ve expected it.
So when you sauntered over to him, heels elegant in your grace, lip gloss distant from the night, that skirt that he him unknowingly staring at the exposed part of your thighs, he didn’t know what he should expect.
Your perfume reached him before you did, subtle yet sharper then the haze of cigarettes he’d been successfully hiding behind.
“Having fun?” You asked, hint of a smile tugging at your lips, voice low enough that it got lost under the sound of the overwhelming speakers, “you’re hiding” you continued, sliding into the booth without waiting for permission.
His smirk was lazy, “and you’re too loud” he told you, his eyes drifting from your eyes to the way your skirt rode up just a bit when you had sat down.
“That stunt you pulled is hurting my phone” you dramatically say, which wasn’t far from the truth, the amount of questioning messages you had received and notifications from PR teams and social media was quite insane to say the least.
He huffed a small laugh, hands hidden in his pockets once he set out the last of his cigarette, the smoke a surprisingly comforting smell.
“Don’t act like you hated it, you liked that they all saw” he teased, half joking, half testing the small barrier between you.
When the two of you first worked together, it was completely friendly. If that meant staying late in the studio together for unnecessary amounts of time, and sitting maybe a bit too close to each other in the producing studio.
Naturally, media had its speculations, but neither of you denied or confirmed anything. But after tonight maybe something would have to be said.
It all started when he hugged you on stage one time, years ago. A public display of affection you still see floating around instagram to this day, pretending not to notice the fact that Jiyong liked each and every video about it.
“You’re too reckless” you pointed out, not judgemental, just a quiet observation you had made that you needed to keep in mind when you were around him.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes tracing your lips like he was memorising them for later.
You noticed, even though it was a subtle motion, you noticed everything he did, no matter how much to drink you had or how much your vision was getting more hazy with each drink paired with blinding lights.
“Keep looking at me like that and people will notice” you told him, getting more and more worried. Not about him, no, you would never mind whatever he gave you.
You were more worried about the fact that other idols were around, especially after the move Jiyong had made earlier.
“You’ve never minded before” Jiyong spoke lightly, words the tiniest bit laced with the alcohol in his system.
Furrowing your brows, you set your drink down on the table next to his own, the ashtray he had used for his abandoned cigarette just a few centimetres away from the glass.
“What do you mean?” You asked softly, confused at the meaning behind the sentence, although you were you could easily make an educated guess.
“I mean you’ve never said anything before. Not even after the night in the studio, so why do you care now? Cause everyone given the media something that we can’t distinguish as friends?”
You knew now what he was talking about. There had been a fleeting moment between you months ago, one you hadn’t brought up again since.
You had turned around away from the computer laughing about something he said just to see him practically looming over you, his chest close to yours, looking down at you with his signature smile.
Neither of you moved, just gazes into each other’s eyes, the smiles on your faces dropping slightly before the sound of of the soundboard clicking broke you both out of your trances.
With a small scoff you commented, “well now we might actually have to say something”
“What would you tell them?” He asked you, full seriousness in his voice as if it wasn’t obvious what your answer was going to be.
You paused for a mere moment, lips parted for a response before he beat you to it, looking down at you with the same eyes
“would you tell them that it was just a PR stunt? Something for the stage? Or would you tell them the truth?”
He knew he’d probably regret this conversation in this morning when his hangover kicked in and sobriety beat him up in his mind.
The stammer in your heart only quickened as you listened to him, “and what’s the truth?”
Jiyong’s eyes never left yours as he answered, his voice too casual compared to his words, “we were never just coworkers”
Your heart sank in that moment. You weren’t sure where he was getting the confidence to admit all this, but you blamed it on the alcohol in both your systems.
“Is that what you think?” You challenged, before you noticed he had leaned over, voice husky in your ear as he spoke quietly, careful not to let others around hear,
“It’s what you think” he murmured, as if he knew the turmoil going on inside your brain just by looking at you. And maybe he did.
He glanced behind him outside the corner booth you were in, arm resting on the top of the banquette as he checked no one was looking before he sneakily brought his hand around your shoulder bringing you closer to him, hiding you from the line of sight of people dancing and drinking.
Your legs were cold against the leather material the seats wore, breath shuddering slightly at the sudden proximity between you that you could only put down as intimate.
“You’re saying that as if you have me all figured out” you prodded, half with a playful smile on your face that he adored, half a curious statement that you couldn’t help but wonder.
“I do” he shot back, and you could’ve sworn he was leaning in to kiss you, your eyes softening slightly until he reached around you, taking your drink with a victorious grin on his face as he drank what was left of the liquid.
You scoffed, the booth suddenly feeling like a cage and a hiding place all at once. His knee brushed against yours in a fleeting motion.
“That’s bold of you to assume” you protested lightly, trying to calm the tangle in your thoughts that you desperately wanted to hide. But it really did seem like he new you better than you did yourself.
His grin never dropped, his arm dipping room around your shoulders to the small of your back, resting on the slightly exposed skin between your skirt and top,
“It wasn’t an assumption” Jiyong worded, and now every tilt of his head felt deliberate, every glance like it was asking question he wasn’t ready to voice.
The words sat heavy on your tongue, unsure what to say in this moment that wouldn’t ruin it or give him a wrong impression.
Although right now you weren’t sure what impression you wanted to give him anyway.
“What are you trying to say?” You blurt out, unsure of the message he was trying to convey here.
He raised his eyebrows slightly at your question, almost caught off guard, his thoughts wavering faintly,
“I’m saying i want you” Jiyong had started, glancing down at your lips in a momentary blur, taking in the way you looked at him with those eyes he adored oh so dearly, the way your cheeks were slightly flushed from both the heat and and the alcohol blooming in your system.
Your breath caught in your throat, almost like you were physically unable to say anything after the drunken confession, but he helped you out, continuing, “tell me if I’m being too forward”
Before you could even respond his lips were on yours, desperate in a way that bordered on needy.
A noise of surprise escaped your throat, stalling for a moment before you found yourself melting into the kiss.
You blamed this whole thing on the fact you were both drunk. Pretending that you were gonna hate yourself in the morning and the fact your hand cradled his sharp jaw meant nothing but an accident.
But you knew yourself better then that. He knew you better than that.
His tongue grazed across your bottom lip, his way of asking for permission, but you pulled away, eyes fluttering open in slight shock, “Jiyong you can’t just kiss me here”
You say although your voice didn’t have any actual protest behind it. He smiled at you, his slightly crinkled eyes warming your heart at the same time his hand now caressing your hip caused you to not so discreetly rub your thighs together.
He took a moment to take off his glasses, quickly pecking your lips, pulling back again as if he was testing you patience. Upon seeing the look on your face he laughed lowly, standing up and taking your wrist to pul you up with him.
“You trust me?” He asked you, his body still covering you from the view of other people in the corner of the bar.
You nodded, but you sensed he needed more than that to be convinced, so you continued, “yeah of course i do”
That was more than enough for him. He looked behind him, checking to see if anyone was looking your way before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you into his side, his hand coming to rest at the top of your hair, effectively hiding you at least a little bit.
He walked ahead, towards the VIP rooms you guessed he had already been here before by the way he exchanged a silent word with the security outside it before they wordlessly let you both in, closing the door behind the two of you.
Once you had stepped in, you almost felt like you were going behind your own back, betraying the words you promised yourself months ago that you wouldn’t fall for him.
That was quickly going out the window.
Jiyong walked closer to you, his hands going to your waist, his thumbs drawing across the soft skin as he spoke quietly, music distant from the other room,
“Do you wish I didn’t kiss you?” He pondered, the words heavy compared to his lighthearted smile just moments before.
You shook your head firmly, “no. I just wish it didn’t make things difficult” you spoke, your eyes practically boring into his gaze.
His hand moved to cradle the back of your neck, bringing you closer to him just to rest his forehead against yours.
He brought his lips back to yours, this time the motion was more gentle, heartfelt. He walked you backwards until your knees hit the table in the middle of the room.
Jiyong laid you across it carefully, his lips moving to press a small kiss to your cheek, trailing to your jaw.
Your breathing picked up slightly, the heat pooling between your legs as he gently nipped at the skin there, finally letting out every parent up emotion he’d kept hidden for years.
“Jiyong” you gasped out when his hand on your waist moved to gently part your thighs, your skirt riding up more to the point your panties were on show.
“Yes jagi?” Now that was new. The name calling, the fact his hands weren’t even hesitant across your body, it was dangerous in a way that thrilled you.
You bit your lip at the name and the way he ran his tongue over a bite he let on your neck, soothing the skin.
“Someone could walk in” you cautiously point out, eyes darting to the door where if anyone walked in you’d both be caught out.
He hummed a sort of no, Iips trailing up to your ear, “they locked it baby”
You had to admit that made you feel a bit better. But even without that, you couldn’t ignore the wetness coating your panties, or the sudden heat you felt across your whole body.
“Okay” you muttered, your way of consent, making him pull back slightly, enough to look at your flushed face.
You took him in properly, the way his lips were so soft, so kissable. The way his hair fell over his forehead in a now messed up yet addictive manner.
The way he looked at you now like he wanted nothing more then to keep you here, burning with desire and need beneath him.
“You sure?” Jiyong ushered. He may have been drunk but he knew enough to make sure you were okay still.
You nodded, a hint of a smile on your lips as his fingers danced around your top before tugging it upwards.
He made you lift your arms up, tugging the thin material off properly, his lips suddenly attacking the cleavage your bra showed off.
The way he adored your body made you reel with desperation, tugging his hair lightly to look up at you,
“I need you- Ji please, don’t tease” Your words were almost pathetic. And that thrilled him.
He decided to take mercy on your poor body that was already arching up into him, your hips desperately trying to grind against his own.
“Okay jagi, i got you” he ushered quietly, leaning up to unbutton his own shirt, leaving his tie where it was for now until you pulled him back down to you by it, crashing your lips against him once more once he was completely shirtless.
He tutted, pulling away just to pull his tie off in a way that got your mind hazy, lifting your wrist up above your head, your smile was now gone.
Jiyong wrapped the tie around your wrists, binding them together with such expertise that had you questioning every thought inside your head.
“Keep them there okay?” He spoke, pushing your arching back down to the coldness of the table.
You nodded wordlessly, like you’d forgotten all how to talk. It took all of your willpower not to move your arms when his hands daunted your skirt, unzipping the material on the side of it, exposing the line of your panties.
He marvelled at the sight of you, leaning down to press an open mouthed kiss to your hip before he pulled your skirt the rest of the way off, leaving you almost completely bare apart from the mouth watering sight of you in a matching set before him.
“Aw you’re doing so good keeping your hands there for me” Jiyong grinned almost mockingly making you practically glare up at him.
His hands moved to his jeans, unzipping the denim until you could see the visible strain in his boxers, your eyes ogling at the sight.
He took the jeans off, leaning back down to press hot kisses from the valley of your breath, slowly sauntering down to your panty line.
The teasing was ironic considering you could see how much restraint it was taking him not to just take you there and then.
With a firm grip on your hips he pulled you further down the table, closer towards him before he cupped your covered core, feeling the wetness there as he looked back up at you.
The choked gasp that left you was like music to his ears, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the sounds you would make when he actually started would be even prettier.
“Is this for me jagi?” He taunted, making you whine a little, hips raising off the table, almost begging him to stop his cruel teasing.
“Yes- jiyong you said no teasing” you dramatically spoke, hating the way he had you wrecked before he even started.
There was a hint of a pout on his face, but he pulled your panties down anyway as he commented, “but its so much more fun like this baby”
The cold air hit your core, your thighs instinctively closing after being exposed to him, but he parted them again, firmly, “nuh uh’
It took everything inside you not to move your arms, not like they’d have much use whilst being tied together anyways.
“What is it?” He asked you, mock concern laced in with his voice at the sight of you nearly in tears at his slow torture.
Your legs wrapped around his torso, bringing him closer to you, the material of his boxers rubbing against your core so deliciously, “i want you inside me- please ji”
How could he say no to you when you were so desperate for him?
In a slow, torturous movement it bordered on painful, he pulled down the material, his cock pressing against your clit, it made you moan out, instinctively twitching away from him at the contact.
“What you already sensitive? Jagi i only teased you a little bit” he chuckled lowly, enjoying the way your breathing never evened out and you couldn’t keep still beneath him.
You didn’t even respond, couldn’t, for he positioned himself at your entrance, coating himself in your wetness, never giving you what you actually wanted yet.
“Seriously Jiyong?” You whined, trying to push your hips forward, craving the mouth watering stretch, the urge.
He pushed forward, the tip of him slipping inside you, easily due to your wetness but the burn of the stretch was still there, not that you were complaining.
You gasped out quietly, your focus drifting between the fact he told you to keep your arms still and the fact he was taking his sweet time filling you up.
He reached about half way before he let out his own involuntary groan at the way you clenched down on him hard, instinctively thrusting further inside you at the motion.
You moaned oh so sweetly when you got what you wanted, it would’ve pissed him off that you took advantage, if he wasn’t so drunk on the sounds leaving your throat already.
Jiyong decided not to tease you father that, just pulled out slightly only to fill you to the brink in one swift motion that had your eyes blurring hazy and you to choke up on a gasp.
The tip of him kissed your cervix in a way that had your legs locking around his torso, as if you were trying to keep him buried inside you, which you were.
He felt all of his restraint falling out the window at the feeling of you so tight around him, so pretty below him with his tie around your wrists and his marks littering your jaw.
“Fuck- so pretty for me” he murmured almost shakily which was new for Jiyong, his hip stuttering slightly as he pulled out till just the tip was resting heavy inside you before he slammed back in with a brutal force.
He kept up this motion until your were withering beneath him in just a few more rough, calculated thrusts, biting the inside of your arm in a desperate attempt not attract the attention of anyone outside of the VIP room.
He moved your arm out the way, moving it back above your head properly before his hands clamped down, one clutching the tie effectively pinning you down, the other covering your mouth, your high pitched moans and whimpers muffled behind it.
“You can’t even stay quiet, its like you want someone to catch us out”
Jiyong’s words only spurred you on, your eyes fluttering closed at the new angle due to him leaning over you slightly, breathlesss moans spilling behind his palm.
You tried to say something behind his hand, more, and he took the hint, his hand on the tie moving down to your clit, somewhat trusting you now to keep your hands where they were,
He rubbed lazy, teasing circles to your clit, barely enough pressure but it ready had your whines high pitched, your hips twitching with each one, paired with the rough thrusts of his cock in and out of you.
It was hypnotising the way he already knew your body just by looking at you.
“Think you can stay quiet now?”
When one particular thrust hit your g spot, you arched up into him, an almost scream like moan leaving you, his smirk taunting at his lips at the realisation from him, “I guess that’s a no, huh?”
He calculated each thrust to hit that spot perfectly, his fingers rubbing with more pressure on your cit, the mixture of the two causing your brain to short circuit.
Your legs trembled around his torso, the knot in your stomach tightening at the blurring white pleasure he had you reeling in.
He hissed when you clenched around him again, so divine, your breasts bouncing under your bra at each, cruel, delicious thrust of his hips.
You tried to warn him, tried to tell him you were close, but he figured that out before you even did, letting out a strained, “i know baby, i know, hang in there for me huh? You’re doing so good, don’t wanna let me down”
His words had you nodding, your body subconsciously holding out on the sweet release just moments away.
Jiyong felt his own high soon approaching, and with that, he let go of your mouth, roughly cradling your jaw in his hold instead, crashing his lips onto yours to drown out any of your noises.
“So, so good, it’s like you were made for me. you can- you can let go now jagi, let go for me” he muttered against your lips
Your body reacted before your mind did, the release you had been craving so long finally crashing down on you, his hips didn’t falter once, nor did his fingers, expertly helping you ride out the events of your high.
“That’s it”
Once he felt you cum around him, he let go himself, his thrusts quickly becoming sloppy, spilling inside you with a low groan vibrating against your lips.
You whimpered at the feeling, foreign but oh so welcome.
He parted from your lips, both of your breaths hurried, practically gasping for air as he rested his head against your shoulder, cock twitching inside you, you could’ve sworn you heard him whimper almost inaudible.
Jiyong waited until you had calmed down a little more before he pulled out, you instinctively whining at the loss of contact, the emptiness, “poor thing” he taunted once more, he couldn’t help it.
He looked down at your sweat glistened skin, the way your chest raised and fell with each faltering breath.
In a fleeting motion he pulled up his boxers and jeans, the alcohol in his system not even caring to button them up yet, before he gently took your arms undoing the tie from around them, the material slipping off your wrists.
He pressed soft kisses to your wrists, making sure the tie wasn’t too tight on you before he pulled you up into his arms.
“Its okay, I’ve got you, you did so well”
That was the last thing you remembered that night.
The first thing you did notice in the morning however was the sheets adorning your figure. Unfamiliar, not the usual material of your own bedsheets.
You ignored it at first until the memories of the previous night fell into your brain.
You sat up quickly, your vision blurring with both the evidence of your hangover and the too quick motion.
Then you saw him, standing by the doorway, hand raised near the door like he was about to knock until he noticed you were awake.
Your clothes from last night were back on, clearly your own doing despite you not even remembering down so, and so was Jiyong’s, although he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
You were unsure of what to say, what to do, do you just leave? Jiyong beat you to it though, “you okay?”
That was the first thing he said to you, voice soft but deep, laced with tiredness and the evidence of his own hangover.
He was holding two coffee cups, something you were more than grateful about in this moment.
“Yeah, I’m fine” you say, unsure of what to do as you sat in his bed, his covers draped over your waist.
He nodded, walking over and placing the cup of coffee on your - his - bedside table before pondering gently, “do you remember what happened?”
“I remember everything until after it happened” you say, eyes slightly squinting adjusting to the headache forming and the lights above your head.
That earned a small, distant laugh from him.
He knew what happened last night was a drunken matter. He just prayed that you thought the same as him and thought it wasn’t a mistake.
If he was being honest it was the best hangover he ever had.
“We got dressed and I took you back here, you passed out straight on the bed”
You flushed with half embarrassment, half from the gummy smile that was on his face that warmed your heart to see every time.
Jiyong hesitated slightly before walking round to the other side of the bed, sitting next to you but careful to leave some distance just in case you did in fact deem last night as a mistake.
“I don’t regret it” he blurted out after a moment, hands limp in his lap, glasses adorning his face.
You looked at him, so softly he thought he could die, but his nervousness for your reaction was breaking him at the same time.
“I don’t either” you finally let out, secretly thanking everything that he felt the same.
The one thing that played on your mind however was the medias reaction.
You knew you shouldn’t care. Knew it was petty to even consider that when your guys’ happiness should come first. But the thoughts were still there.
He leaned his head back against the headboard, his head tilted slightly when two sets of paws came sauntering into the room, catching you off guard momentarily.
Upon seeing Zoa and Iye, you smiled, the sight bringing a mirrored expression to Jiyongs face as he watched you pet the cats who made their way onto the bed.
But his smile and focus wasn’t on the cats. It was on you. On the domesticity of the moment he thought he could easily get used to.
You looked back at him just as he spoke, “ah, sorry” he murmured, a bit flustered upon the innocence of the interruption.
“Its fine” you grinned, petting the cats so happily it almost made him laugh.
“what do you wanna do about it?”
That brought you back to the topic of hand, your fingers stilling over Iye’s fur. You glanced over again, before answering quietly,
“I don’t know..what do you wanna do about it?”
His smile widened, eyes crinkled lightly as he kept his eyes on you, “i want it to be like this. Waking up with you, smiling with you. That’s what i want”
Your smile dropped slightly. Not of dissapointment but at the raw authenticity of his words, “yeah?”
He nodded slowly, “yeah” he finished, running a hand through his morning, unruly hair that had you obsessed.
You didn’t exchange any words after that. But the way you both subconsciously sat closer to each other, basking in the morning glow and your hangovers suddenly felt so faint compared to the contentment in both your hearts.
And now as you lay with him, his arm looping around your shoulder, the media was the last thing on your mind.
Synopsis: halloween was always your season; the costumes, the chaos, the thrill of it all. but this year, you finally get the chance to prove you aren’t just daesung’s little sister. dressed in white satin and a halo, you only have one goal; to make the devil himself, choi seunghyun, finally notice you.
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, explicit sexual content | smut, fingering, age gap (legal), unprotected sex, public sex
Authors note: Happy spooky season!! This is my submission for Kinktober. I hope you all enjoy devil Seunghyun as much as i do because let’s be so fr, he’d be a sexy af devil! There are a lot of really talented writers taking part in this event who will be tagged below so make sure you check out all of their works as well! Thank you for reading angels🤍
Halloween has always been your favourite holiday, ever since you watched The Shining way too young, and discovered how thrilling it felt to be scared.
The eeriness of the season, the cold weather, the costumes and even having to put up with kids knocking at your door every five minutes.
You loved it all.
Every Halloween, you tried to outdo yourself from the previous year, and you always went all out on your costumes. You were known to your friends as the ‘queen of Halloween’, although you felt like you couldn’t own that title until you had gotten the invitation you really wanted.
This year was different; your brother had finally invited you to his infamous Halloween party.
Being a member of BigBang, your brother knew everybody. Anyone who was popular within the industry would be at this party; you knew you had to stand out.
You had grown up around the members of your brother's band.
Daesung was always very protective of you, and being 12 years younger than him, he never included you in things like this.
Last year, you had gotten closer than ever before. Jiyong and Seunghyun had tried to convince him, but with Young Bae being the deciding vote, you knew you didn't stand a chance.
The truth was that you didn't really care that you didn't get to go to the party last year. The fact that Seunghyun had vouched for you, and made it clear that he wanted you there, was all you needed to make it a great Halloween.
Your childhood crush on Seunghyun had started a couple of years after they debuted.
You remember being 7 years old, watching the music video for la la la and being completely infatuated by him.
It never fully went away after that.
Every event, every show, every family dinner; your eyes were always on him, and part of you hoped that he noticed.
This year, Daesung finally gave in. You had already ditched the plans you had with your friends and decided your costume had to be top tier. No more scary prosthetics and fake blood; you wanted to be sexy.
If you were finally going to catch the attention of a man 14 years older than you, you had to make sure you stood out.
And you had the perfect idea on how to do just that.
The party was in exactly a week from today, so you were cutting it close, but you decided to bombard your brother with questions anyway. You needed insider information if your plan was going to work.
“Dae, I need to pick your brains,” you say, jumping onto the couch next to your brother.
“Y/n if it's about the party, don’t make me revoke your invitation,” he whines.
“Too late, I’m already going. Plus, your friends want me there,” you press, earning an eye roll from Daesung.
“Okay, what do you need to know?”
You think for a second, trying not to make your ulterior motive too obvious. “What are you all dressing up as? I don’t want to look like shit the first time you let me go.”
“I'm going as Jiyong, Jiyong is going as Young Bae and Young Bae is going as me.”
You roll your eyes. Weirdos.
“What about Seunghyun?” You look down, picking at your nails, hoping he doesn’t ask why you’re suddenly interested in Seunghyun.
“Ummmm….a devil, i think,” Daesung looks over like he’s onto you. “He’s so boring isn’t he?”
You nod, agreeing with him, thankful that your brother was so innocent and naive.
Seunghyun dressing as a devil was perfect for your plan, assuming he didn't already have a side piece, you could match perfectly with him.
You were going to be the sexiest angel at this damn party.
When the night of the party finally arrives, you spend hours getting ready.
Not a single hair was out of place, your makeup was done in the perfect way to suit your face, and your costume was hugging your frame exactly the way you wanted it to.
You had opted for a white satin slip dress that fell just above your knees, cute frilly socks and a thin white cardigan.
Your angel wigs were small, but big enough to complete the look along with your halo.
You felt good, and when you looked in the mirror, you finally didn’t see Daesung’s annoying little sister anymore.
You looked like someone who was finally going to get what she wanted.
You added the finishing touches to your look — a red lip and some white heels — before texting your brother that you were ready.
Daesung Oppa<3: Me and yb are picking you up in 5. Meeting the others there. Be outside ready.
You grab your bag, filling it with the essentials before making your way outside to wait for the boys.
A couple minutes later, you see the familiar car pull up. Young Bae rolls the passenger window down, both boys staring like they don’t recognise you at all.
“Oh hell no,” they both say in unison.
Daesung gets out of the car and walks over to you like a bouncer about to kick someone out of a club. “Go inside and change right now y/n, I’m so serious.”
“Absolutely not, I’m not a child,” you scorned, pushing past him to get into the back of the car.
You hear Daesung let out a heavy sigh of defeat before getting back into the driver's seat.
The journey is silent, aside from Young Bae whistling along to whatever was playing on the radio, a welcomed distraction to the weird tension shifting through the air.
You sink into the back seat, bracing yourself for the party ahead. You'd spent hours getting ready, but it hadn’t prepared you for the fact that half the guest list was famous; and now your nerves were catching up more than ever.
Ten minutes later, Daesung pulls up to the house, the sound of bass already bleeding into the street as partygoers spill across the lawn.
As you exit the car, you're met with a face that looks ready to scold you. “Y/n, before we go in there are some ground rules okay?”
You roll your eyes, but he continues regardless.
“No wandering off, only take drinks off of me or the boys and if anyone makes a move on you, come and find me” Daesung lists.
“Yes dad, can we go in now? I'm freezing.”
Dae nods, taking the lead. Young Bae holds his arm out to you and you link it with yours. “Ignore him and make sure you have fun, you look hot.”
When you enter the party, it’s not at all what you expected. There were so many people, all of them dressed in extravagant costumes. The bar was surrounded with people on all sides, and the dance floor was full of idols dancing with each other.
You cling to Young Bae as he leads you over to the booth containing the other members of Big Bang.
You make eye contact with Seunghyun right away. He was sitting in the middle of the booth next to Ji, slowly nursing a large glass of wine.
His lips curved when he saw you, like he could read your mind and knew exactly what you had planned.
“Ayyy y/n! You look so fucking good!” Jiyong calls, getting up to greet you.
Daesung shoots him a scolding look “Hyung!”
You give him a quick hug and scoot into the booth, robbing the space next to Seunghyun right from under him.
Conversations from before you arrived continued on, and you find yourself shifting in your seat awkwardly trying to get used to the environment around you.
“We’re matching,” Seunghyun whispers, leaning towards you slightly.
You look up at him, his face only inches away from yours. You can’t help but smile when he doesn’t back away. “We are.”
He brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a smug grin creeping up onto his face. “You planned this didn’t you.”
“How could I have planned this?” You scoff, eyes lowering down to your hands, before they meet his again.
Seunghyun shrugs. You know he can see straight through you, but part of you is okay with that. Part of you wants him to see you more.
A cough from Daesung breaks the two of you out of your trance.
“Can I get you a drink?” Seunghyun asks, bringing his arm down from where he had stretched it on the seat behind you.
You nod sweetly, moving your legs so he can exit the booth.
When Seunghyun returns, the rest of the boys are getting up to go and dance.
“Are you going too?” He asks you, sitting down and handing you a vodka coke.
You pretend to think for a second before answering. “Not if you’re not.”
That earns you a smirk, “I think I’d rather stay right here.”
You smile and scoot slightly closer to him, your nerves easing slightly now that you have some alcohol in your system.
There was a small moment of silence between the two of you, but it didn’t take long for him to break it.
“I’m glad you came this year,” He says, putting his arm back to where it was resting behind you.
“Me too, I’ve always wanted to see you in a costume.” You look him up and down.
His costume was simple; red jeans, a red long sleeved shirt, and a simple devil horned headband sitting on top of his effortlessly perfect hair.
He lets out a low chuckle, resting his free hand on your thigh. “Have you?”
Your breath hitches at the simple touch. You thought you would have to work harder to gain his attention, but here he was, giving it to you for free.
As the conversation flows, Seunghyun begins to rub absentminded circles onto your thigh with his thumb. You noticed him regularly checking that your brother wasn’t lurking anywhere in your eyeline.
“You have something on your leg,” you point out to him, reaching down to brush the black fluff off his jeans.
You don’t even realize what’s happening until your palm meets the hard outline of him through his jeans. The contact is brief — gone as quickly as it happened — but it leaves your pulse racing regardless.
Seunghyun looks down and shifts slightly in his seat, a look of panic quickly spreading across his face.
You knew that look.
You had just finished your fourth drink, and Seunghyun had polished off an entire bottle of wine by himself; meaning your nerves were no longer an issue.
“Dance with me.” You blurt out, even catching yourself slightly off guard.
He quickly meets your gaze, looking like he didn’t hear you; or maybe he did and thought you were joking.
You slip your hand up the back of his neck and drag your nails across his skin. “Come on, dance with me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea y/n.”
“Why?” You ask, you know why.
Seunghyun looks down, and your gaze follows. He moves his hands to reveal the aching boner sitting in his pants.
“Oh,” you say. “Did I do that?”
“You may have helped cause it, yeah,” he whispers, covering it back up.
You turn your head to scan the room. The booth you were in was very closed off; meaning no one could see you from the dance floor, and no one would catch you unless one of the boys happened to come back.
“Maybe I can help you fix it?”
He lets out a frustrated groan, “please.”
Within seconds, your cardigan was off and tossed over his lap. Your fingers trailed down to the button of his jeans, popping it open and freeing his hard cock from the tight grip of denim.
“Is this okay?” You ask, not wanting to do anything he isn’t comfortable with.
“More than okay,” He reassures, encouraging you to continue.
You grab hold of the base of his cock, dragging your palm up to the tip to gather the pre cum already leaking from it.
You begin to work him up and down slowly, allowing him to get used to the pace.
Seunghyun’s hand grips tightly onto your thigh, digging his nails in lightly. The feeling of them pressing into your skin makes you clench your legs together; slick already coating the fabric of your thong.
You quicken your pace, keeping your eyes fixed on him, watching as his head falls back onto the seat.
“Holy fuck y/n, this feels so good,” he whimpers.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long” you groan, fighting the urge to wrap your lips around his cock in this public space.
He lifts his head, eyes boring into yours. “Yeah? Come closer, let me feel you.”
His hands cup your thighs, pulling you closer to him while lifting one of your legs over his knee.
He snakes his hand under your skirt painfully slowly; running a finger over your clothed slit. “You’re dripping.”
You nod, your hand never once slowing on his cock.
He pushes your panties to the side, gathering your slick before bringing it up to his mouth. The view almost makes you come on the spot.
“You taste so sweet jagiya.”
Without hesitation or any preparation, he inserts a finger into you, pumping it slowly while his thumb works your clit.
You drew in a sharp breath, gripping his arm for stability. “Fuck—Seunghyun.”
“Feel good?”
You let out a small yelp, your movements on his dick growing sloppy.
Just as quickly as he started, he pulls his finger out of you before pulling your chin forward, lips crashing against his.
His hand takes hold of your hair, gripping it in a way that brings you closer to him.
“We don’t have much time, I need to be inside of you” he pants against your lips. “Please tell me you want this.”
“I want this—please Seunghyun,” your voice comes out in a whimper.
You didn’t have time for more foreplay, or any kind of teasing. Within seconds, he had you straddling him, lips on yours like he was starved of your touch.
“Tell me if it’s too much baby and I’ll stop okay?” He reassures you, lining himself up at your entrance.
You feel the head of his cock pushing against you. Being consumed by your need, you sink down onto him.
Seunghyun’s head falls back as his hands take place on your hips. They travel under your skirt before he digs all ten digits into your skin.
Buried in you to the hilt, you feel his cock twitch deep inside you.
“Fuck you’re so tight princess—Ah,” he groans, pushing his head forward to suck the skin on your neck.
You start to roll your hips on him, both of your moans being drowned out by the music. If anyone came back to the booth now, you’d be done for. But at this point, neither of you seemed to care.
“Fuck—Seunghyun—you’re so big” you mutter.
“Shh baby I got you, let me take over.”
His grip on your hips tightens as he begins to pound up into you; moans falling from his lips with every thrust.
“I wanna see you touch yourself jagi—fuck.”
You follow his orders, pushing your dress up to rub circles into your aching clit.
You feel pressure consuming you, nearing the edge. “Seunghyun I’m gonna—“
“Fuck me too, let go for me jagiya.”
You moan loudly, gripping onto his shoulders for support as your orgasm takes over your body. Seunghyun follows suit, spurting hot ropes inside of you.
You slump against him, your head heavy against his shoulder.
“You did so well for me baby,” Seunghyun whispers into your ear, “maybe next time we can do this properly.”
You nod, unable to form words though your panting. You feel your stomach tighten, butterflies growing at the thought of a next time.
Suddenly, both of your heads shoot up as you hear footsteps approaching you.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Daesung asks, stopping dead in his tracks at the entrance to the booth.
You panic, jumping off of Seunghyun’s lap and smoothing your skirt out. “I was just uhhh- I was fixing his hair.”
“So why is his dick out?”
Seunghyun rushes to push his slick coated length back into his pants before sitting up straight, face red.
Daesung simply shakes his head, “fucking unbelievable,” he mutters quietly before turning to walk away.
Seunghyun turns to face you, his usual nonchalant expression replaced by one of embarrassment. “Oh he’s mad.”
You nod, moving closer to ease Seunghyun of his nerves. You take his hand in yours, his firm grip telling you everything you needed to know.
“He’s already angry, we may as well take full advantage,” you tease, running a finger up his thigh.
His eyes drop down to the movement on his leg before flickering back up to meet your gaze. “You know, I actually prefer doggy,” he leans in closer, lips brushing yours “and you’re getting dangerously close to making me hard again.”
You smirk, basking in the knowledge that the simple touch of your finger was having that effect on him, “Back to yours then?”
Seunghyun downs the rest of his wine before standing and offering his hand out to you, “let’s go. I want you to suffocate me with those pretty thighs.”
CONTENT: smut, angst, situationship/toxic relationship, power imbalance, praise & degrading, fingering, dacryphilia (the tiniest bit), accidentally wrote him with a neck fetish or smth idk, bondage, oral & unprotected sex, orgasm denial, knife play, he’s not emotionally abusive he’s misunderstood i swear !!
SYNOPSIS: you knew who he was to the world: confident, untouchable, power incarnate. but behind closed doors, you saw something else— something raw. when he touched you, it wasn't just desire— it was desperation.
AUTHORS NOTE: first smut fic ahhhh 😓 i honestly had sm fun with this what the flip, writing this made me miss my ex #comebackhomebae
also apart of the übermensch series !!
words: [4.5k]
YOU should’ve known the moment the line between love and lust blurred, everything would fall apart. At first, it was sweet, innocent, perfect. But as the months went by, your relationship warped into something more depraved.
Every day, there was a new issue at work. Usually, you’d comfort him and reassure him that it would pass, but over time, he started growing cold toward you. He ignored your messages, passed you without a word— like you were already gone, and every time it happened, a sharp ache spread through your chest.
You kept telling yourself it would get better, but it never did. Whenever you tried to talk to him about it, another argument would start. It was like he didn’t care about fixing things anymore.
So, you ended things. Told him if he wasn’t going to try, then what was the point? What hurt the most was that he didn’t even seem to care. Instead of accepting his mistakes and trying to make things right, he acted like none of it had ever mattered to begin with.
“Jiyong, I can’t do this anymore,” you said, voice trembling as tears threatened to spill from your eyes, throat raw from holding everything in for too long.
He didn’t even look at you. “Do what?”
“This! Us! I’ve tried so many fucking times to get through to you, but you don’t even care!” Your voice cracked as the tears finally fell, cheeks wet and burning. “I understand work is hard, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like I’m nothing. I’m not your punching bag— I’m not just here to take your anger!”
He let out a slow exhale and shrugged. “Then don’t.”
You froze, eyes wide. He didn’t even flinch. You stared at him in disbelief. After everything— after every night you held him as he cried over the pressure, every time you stayed up just to hear about his day— this was his answer?
“If you’re so tired, just leave. What do you want me to do? I can’t change how you feel.” he muttered, still refusing to meet your gaze, as if your pain was a burden to him.
You stepped back like he’d slapped you. “Unbelievable.” you whispered. “Do you even hear yourself? You really don’t give a shit, do you?”
He scoffed under his breath and leaned back, arms crossed as if he'd already checked out of the conversation.
And just like that, something inside you snapped.
Your sadness turned into blinding rage. All the late nights, the ignored calls, the way he made you feel invisible— it all came rushing up like fire in your throat. You snatched your purse, your keys, anything that belonged to you with shaking hands.
“I fucking hate you,” you spat, pain laced in every syllable. You didn’t mean it— you loved him so deeply it hurt— but in that moment, you needed him to hurt too. You wanted him to feel every bit of the pain he left you with.
Fuming, you stomped out the front door with your arms full, not bothering to look back. You decided that if he never cared, you wouldn’t either.
That had been a month ago. At first, your breakup went somewhat smoothly. Neither of you called each other— no texts, no profile views, nothing.
But after the first week, none other than Jiyong appeared at your front door, claiming he left some of his things.
Long story short, you ended up doing more than just finding his belongings— being left with countless hickies and rather sore legs. It didn’t stop after that, though. Every couple days since then, Jiyong stopped by with another lame excuse— and you let him in each time. Because as much as you hated yourself for it, having a piece of him still felt better than having nothing at all.
Now, it had been over a week since he last came, and as much as you hated to admit, you missed him. The smell of his cologne on your sheets, the way his voice rasped your name against your skin, the weight of his body tangled with yours like you were something he couldn’t let go of— even if you both knew that wasn’t true.
Your life dulled into a head-throbbing silence after the breakup. No unexpected knocks at the door, nobody to hold as you went to sleep after a long day. It was just you now — you and the thoughts you tried so desperately to outrun.
Hooking up with Jiyong, if even for a few hours, had been the only thing that made you feel alive. It was toxic— you knew it. But he brought you to your highest highs, even if he plunged you into your lowest lows right after.
You stared at your phone, debating whether to break the silence. Just one message, just to see if he’d respond. You hated how desperate you felt, hated that your body still ached for someone who had emotionally abandoned you long before the breakup.
But before you could talk yourself out of it, there was a knock at the door. Your heart jumped, you didn’t need to check who it was— you already knew.
Your hand trembled on the doorknob, torn between shutting him out and the part of you that still craved his touch. Finally, with a shaky breath, you gave in— unlocking the door because, deep down, you wanted this.
He stood there, hood up, hands in his pockets like nothing had changed. “Left my charger,” he mumbled, voice low, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear him.
Bullshit.
You didn’t answer. You just stepped aside and let him in, even though every rational part of you screamed not to. Because even now, after everything, a piece of him still felt better than none.
Walking around, Jiyong entered and exited rooms as if he were actually looking for something— but you knew why he was here. It was the same reason everytime.
You hated how much power he had over you. He literally just walked in your house as if he owned it after a week of no contact, and you just let it happen. It was like he put a spell on you.
Leaving your room empty handed, Jiyong turned to you.
“Can’t find it” He said with a smirk on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Can you help me look?”
You smiled, already knowing exactly where this was going. Your body moved willingly, betraying every protest your mind tried to whisper. You stepped into your room, pretending to search— eyes scanning drawers, fingers tugging open a basket next to your bed, doing anything to look busy.
You told yourself you were only playing along, just going through the motions. But deep down, a part of you wanted this, needed it. Because no matter how twisted he made things, Jiyong was the only one who could make your body forget it all.
You were crouched beside the bed, fingers aimlessly shifting things around when you heard him behind you— voice low, lazy, and dripping with heat.
“You look good like that— bent over.”
A flash of heat rose to your cheeks. You tried to hide the smirk tugging at your lips as you answered, loud and dry. “Whatever, Jiyong.”
But you didn’t move, you didn’t stop him. And he didn’t hesitate.
He stepped closer, voice low and rough. “Can I?”
You swallowed hard, breathless, and nodded. His hand then grazed your lower back, sliding down over the curve of your ass.
His fingers pressed firmly, possessively— like he was reminding you who you belonged to. “I missed this,” he murmured into your ear, lips barely grazing your skin. “Missed you.”
“I need you, now.” you whispered, breath hitching when his hand slipped between your thighs, cupping you through the fabric of your shorts. Your hips jolted instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips.
“I know you do, baby.” he whispered, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck, biting just hard enough to make you whimper. “No matter how much you say you hate me.”
You could’ve stopped him, but you didn’t want to— not tonight. Not when your whole body remembered what it felt like to be his. Leaning into him, back arching, your head tilted back to give him more access.
You yearned for his touch, your past issues leaving your mind as soon as he laid a finger on you. He was your weakness, your addiction.
His fingers broke the waistband of your shorts, teasing the skin just beneath as his lips dragged along your neck. The way he touched you made you dizzy— slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to ruin you piece by piece.
“Already so wet” he murmured, voice low and smug, fingers now gliding through your folds with a dazing rhythm. “Missed me that bad, huh?”
You didn’t respond— you couldn’t. Your body betrayed you with every shaky breath, every low moan spilling from your lips as his thumb brushed your clit, rubbing tight, deliberate circles that had your hips grinding back into him instinctively.
He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your spine as he pulled you closer, hand gripping your waist like he was holding himself back from completely losing control.
“God, you’re so needy,” he growled, his voice rougher now, almost breathless. Your moans turned into gibberish and incoherent whines as you felt your stomach tighten familiarly, but just when you thought you were about to fall over the edge, he stopped.
“Do you want this, princess?” He asked, removing his hand from your waist to turn your head towards his. “Say the word, and I’ll make you forget every reason you left.”
All your pride, all the promises you made to never let him do this again, evaporated on your tongue as you spoke up, practically whining, “Fuck—yes, Jiyong, please.”
He smirked, satisfied with your desperation, and in one swift motion, picked you up and threw you onto the bed. You barely had time to react before he practically tore both of your shirts off and latched onto your mouth.
“You beg so pretty for me,” he said, pulling away and panting like he’d just run a marathon. “You always do.”
His mouth found your neck in no time, sucking on that spot he knew drove you crazy, while he fondled your breast using his free hand. With each bite to your neck, he rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you grind up against him out of pure need.
“Not yet, pretty,” he teased. “Gotta get you ready first. Don’t you wanna have fun?” He smiled— just as cocky as he was when you were together.
You whimpered under him, the ache between your thighs unbearable as he continued to toy with your body like it belonged to him— because in a way, it always had.
“Jiyong,” you breathed, fingers curling into the sheets as his tongue dragged lazily along the edge of your collarbone. “Please…”
“Oh? Now you’re polite?” he teased, voice soaked in poison. “Didn’t sound so sweet when you walked out that door, did you?”
His words stung, but the way his fingers slipped between your legs silenced every ounce of pride you had left. He pushed your shorts down your thighs, then leaned back to take in the sight of you— panting, flushed, and needy for him.
“Look at you.” he muttered, dragging his fingers slowly over your soaked panties. “You hate me, right? But your body…” he smirked as he pressed against your clit through the fabric, causing you to gasp, “doesn’t lie.”
The way his fingers circled and teased was enough to have your back arching, your chest heaving as your body screamed for more. Jiyong held your hips down, forcing you to stay in place and endure his restless teasing.
He leaned down again, lips brushing your ear. “Tell me how bad you want it.” he whispered, “Beg for me like you mean it.”
You bit your lip, not wanting to give up your pride— but the words fell out anyway, breathless and broken. “I want you, Jiyong. I need you.”
With that, he yanked your panties down and spread your legs, gaze darkening as he settled between them. “Good girl,” he said lowly, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Let me remind you exactly who you belong to.”
Then his mouth was on you— hot, skilled, relentless. Every flick of his tongue, every graze of his teeth had you unraveling more and more beneath him, gripping the sheets like a lifeline as he devoured you without mercy.
Your thighs trembled as his tongue worked you over with slow, devastating precision. He knew every inch of your body— every spot that made you squirm, every rhythm that made your eyes roll back, and he didn’t let up— not even for a second.
“Fuck— Jiyong,” you moaned, back arching as you tugged at his hair, needing something— anything—to ground you.
He groaned at the sound of his name on your lips, gripping your thighs tighter as he sucked on your clit just long enough to have your legs threatening to close around his head.
“Oh no, baby,” he muttered, pulling back from inbetween your thighs just enough to look up at you, lips glistening, eyes dark and full of lust. “Keep those legs open for me. You wanted this, remember?”
You nodded frantically, too close to stop, too far gone to care about anything but the knot building inside you— tight, hot, and on the verge of snapping.
He slipped two fingers inside you with no warning, curling them perfectly as his mouth returned to its place between your thighs. His pace was brutal, overwhelming, yet perfect.
“I can feel how close you are.” he muttered against your core. “You gonna come already? Hm?”
A string of broken cries left your lips as your hips bucked against his face. He held you down firmly, tipping you over the edge with a deep suck to your clit that sent your vision blurring.
You came with a gasp, voice catching in your throat as your body flooded with pleasure. He didn’t stop until you were shaking and whimpering from the overstimulation, trying to push him away.
Only then did he pull back, licking his lips with a smug grin like he hadn’t just completely ruined you. “Still hate me?” he asked, voice low and hoarse as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
You blinked up at him, chest rising and falling rapidly, as your lips hung open, unable to speak— because the truth was, you didn’t even know anymore.
Your breathing was still uneven, body trembling from the sensitivity when Jiyong stood slowly, towering over you like he owned every inch of you. His eyes were dark, hungry— but calculated. Like he had more in store.
“You think we’re done, baby?” he asked, voice low and commanding, tugging your jaw up to meet his gaze.
Before you could even answer, he gripped both of your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand. His grip was tight, possessive—but beneath it, you caught a flicker of desperation. Like he was afraid of losing you more than anything.
You heard the faint clink of something metal before you felt the cool press of leather circling your wrists. He strapped you to the headboard with deliberate care, then tugged on your arms a couple times, making sure you couldn’t move.
“Jiyong,” you whispered, testing the restraints, “What are you—”
“Shh.” He kissed your temple. “You okay? Are you comfortable with this?” he asked, eyes still on the belt as he pulled it snug.
Nodding quickly, Jiyong made a low ‘tsk’ sound as he shook his head. “Gotta use your words, baby.”
“Yes, please touch me, Jiyong.” you breathed.
A dark smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “That’s my good girl.” He reached into his back pocket and, to your surprise, pulled out a small, familiar knife. Your body tensed, heart pounding in your chest. Not from fear— from thrill.
“You know I’d never hurt you” he murmured, dragging the blunt edge of the blade down the center of your stomach— slow, teasing, just like the other times. “I just like watching you squirm.”
The cold steel drew along your skin, just enough to make you shiver. Then, it slipped beneath the bridge of your bra. With one clean flick, he sliced it straight down the middle— fabric popping loose, freeing your boobs like they’d been trapped for too long.
You gasped, nipples hardening at the air hitting them. Jiyong returned to your neck once again, hands wandering all around your body as if he were admiring a work of art.
“Spread.” he said as he lifted himself from your body, not raising his voice. You obeyed, opening your legs to display yourself for him under the dim lights.
“Look at that,” he whispered, letting the ice cold blade trail up the inside of your thigh lightly. “You let me back in after everything— and now you’re dripping for me.”
He tossed the knife aside safely, then leaned in, his lips brushing your neck as his fingers slid between your legs. But instead of giving you what you wanted, he hovered, traced, toyed.
One finger pressed in, achingly slow— then out. You felt so embarrassingly empty, like there was nothing but air in your body. You whimpered, pulling against your restraints. “Please, Jiyong… please.”
He kissed your throat, open-mouthed and slow, tongue dragging against your pulse. His mouth left wet trails on your skin, giving you goosebumps from the cold air clashing with it.
“You don’t get to come,” he whispered, lips against your ear, “not until I say so. Not until I’ve fucked the memory of any life without me out of that pretty little head.”
Your breath hitched. You hated how much you wanted that.
He moved between your thighs and dragged his tongue through your folds— slow, precise, agonizing. Every movement was calculated, every groan from his throat deliberate— all to make his teasing that much more unbearable.
“You sound so pretty for me.” he spoke, slipping two fingers inside you and curling them just right. “You always do.”
As you stretched out by his thick fingers, your moans increased in volume. And when your body started to tighten; hips twitching, breath turning shallow— he pulled away again.
You cried out, frustrated, desperate.
He leaned over you, rubbing slow circles on your clit with maddening restraint, just enough to edge you again and again. “Not yet,” he warned with a smirk. “You wanna come, baby? You’re going to earn it.”
Even knowing how wrong it was, you still wanted him— wanted this. You weren’t giving in, you were choosing it. Nodding quickly, your voice nearly broke as you pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Please.”
“Good,” he said, kissing your bound wrists. “Then stay just like that.”
Fondling with the button on his jeans, he unfastened his pants, dragging them down along with his boxers simultaneously. His cock sprang free, slapping against his abdomen with a wet, heavy sound that made your mouth go dry.
He stroked himself once, twice— slow and controlled, eyes locked on you the entire time. “You see what you do to me?” he asked, voice rough, teasing. “You’ve been teasing me too, princess. All those days without texting me… acting like I didn’t exist.”
He climbed over you again, the head of his cock dragging through your soaked folds but never pushing in. Just enough to make you squirm in desperation.
“But now I’ve got you tied to your bed,” he whispered, lining himself up and gripping your hips. “Now you’re mine again.”
He ran the thick head of his cock through your folds once again, gathering every drop of your slick, making you shiver as he teased your entrance. He didn’t rush it. He took his time— dragging the tip up and down, groaning low in his throat as you whimpered beneath him.
When he finally pushed in, it wasn’t aggressive, he had just the right amount of force that made your eyes water.
A steady, stretching pressure that had your back arching, mouth falling open. He eased in inch by inch, watching every expression wash across your face, his hand rubbing gentle circles into your thigh to ground you.
“That’s it, good job, love.” he muttered, voice rough. “Taking me so well.”
Once he was fully seated inside you, he gave you just a second to adjust— his hand running soothingly over your stomach, your wrists still bound above you, completely at his mercy.
Then he pulled out halfway and thrust back in, harder this time, setting a rhythm that was rough enough to leave you gasping, but not enough to hurt. Every thrust was deep yet controlled, performed to drive you crazy, not break you.
“You feel that?” he growled into your ear, hips slamming into yours with a sharp snap. “Every inch of me inside you, stretching you open. You were made for me.”
You moaned helplessly, legs trembling as he kept going, his grip on your thighs tightening just enough to anchor you in place, to let you know you weren’t going anywhere.
“Say it,” he demanded, voice breathless against your neck. “Say who you belong to.” He dipped down to place wet kisses on your chest, tongue drawing patterns on your skin.
“Fuck— You, Jiyong. Im all yours.” You whined, throat going dry as you struggled to get your words out. Jiyong let out a satisfied hum as he kept going, hips snapping into you even faster.
Tears of overwhelming pleasure welled in your eyes as he hit the spot that drove you wild. Suddenly, he lifted your legs up, pressing your knees onto your chest.
The new angle pushed him even deeper inside you as you cried out in pleasure. You tugged at your restraints as he pounded into you relentlessly.
The sound of the headboard knocking against the wall echoed through the room, but you barely registered it. Your focus was on Jiyong— on the way his body moved against yours like he knew you inside and out, like this was the only place you belonged; beneath and completely giving yourself to him.
Your thighs trembled against his hips, legs still folded against your chest as he buried himself deeper, over and over, with an overwhelming rhythm. Your wrists ached in their restraints, every ounce of control you once had belonged to him now.
“Look at you,” he whispered, voice low and dark as his thumb traces firm circles on your clit. “Falling apart just because I’m inside you. Crying for me, begging for me... this is what you needed, isn’t it?”
You whimpered, nodding as your back arched again. The burn in your stomach was unbearable, once again feeling that your pressure in your core. You were close, and he could feel it.
“Not yet,” Jiyong hissed against your ear, slowing down just enough to make you sob out of frustration. “Not until I say so.”
“Please— please, Jiyong,” you choked out, tears slipping down your temples as your body trembled under him. “I can’t... I need to—”
He cut you off with a sharp kiss, biting down on your lower lip before pulling away. “You can. And you will— for me.”
Then, without warning, he shifted his grip, pulled out almost completely, and slammed back into you hard enough to pull the breath from your lungs. Again, then again.
Your orgasm slammed into you like a flood. It ripped through your body with an intensity you hadn’t felt in months— your muscles clenching, vision blurring, cries spilling freely from your lips.
“Good girl,” he praised, voice thick and hoarse now as he chased his own high. “That’s it. Just like that.”
After a few more brutal thrusts, his climax followed. Jiyong's head dropped against your neck, breath hot against your skin as his body tensed above yours.
The room fell silent, filled with your combined panting rather than words. The sheets tangled beneath your bodies like evidence of everything you promised yourself you wouldn't do again.
A heavy ache settled in your chest as reality began to return, creeping in through the cracks his touch temporarily sealed shut. You looked up at the ceiling, wrists still tied, lips swollen, heart pounding for reasons far beyond lust.
After a few minutes, Jiyong finally moved. He slid out of bed without saying a word, pulling on his boxers before disappearing into the connected bathroom. The sound of water running filled the silence, and for a brief moment, you thought maybe he was going to leave.
But he didn’t.
The water shut off, and not long after, he returned— shirtless, damp hair pushed back, a wet washcloth in one hand and one of his oversized shirts in the other.
Without a word, he climbed back onto the bed, gently untying your wrists before wiping you down with the warm cloth. The soft heat of it contrasted with the cool air and the sting still lingering on your skin. He moved slowly, carefully— like he hadn’t just torn you open in every way imaginable.
“Too much?” he asked softly.
You shook your head. “No. It’s what I needed.” Sometimes, you hated how tender he was afterward— how it made your chest hurt in a different way. But this time you felt yourself melting into his touch, as if he were healing all your problems.
After cleaning you up, he helped you into the shirt, his fingers brushing your hips as he slid it over your arms. You winced slightly when the fabric grazed a sore spot, and he stilled, eyes flicking to yours.
“Sorry” he whispered, rubbing your skin with his hands softly to ease the pain
You managed a small smile. “It’s okay, I’ll feel better soon.”
Once you were dressed, Jiyong laid beside you again. The space between you was small but felt so much bigger. The silence was heavy with things neither of you knew how to say.
Your eyes wandered toward your ruined bra, the torn fabric laying limp near the edge of the bed. You gave Jiyong a sharp look.
He caught it immediately, smirking faintly as he leaned back against the headboard. “Don’t worry, jagi,” he said. “I’ll buy you five more.”
After the storm of lust passed, he traced circles on your back softly. “I’m sorry for hurting you,” he whispered, voice raw and honest. You wanted to believe him, and for a moment, you did.
Unfortunately, you both knew that tomorrow, nothing would be fixed. Nothing would be different. Yet here you were again, wrapped in the same cycle.
He knew how much power he had. The way he kissed you like a promise, only to vanish like a ghost. He always came back. And you always let him.
Neither of you spoke, but the silence said enough.
When you looked at him, neither of you said it out loud, but you both knew. This cycle would repeat, no matter how much you wished it wouldn’t.
You hated him and you hated how happy you were to let him in, but most of all— you hated how you still loved him.
