TOP JIHYO SUB READER PASSIONATE SEX HIGH SEXUAL TENSION pwease 🥺
just read your mohyo talk you through it fic for the fourth time
its so freaking good i think u r perfect for writing this request
no pressure 🫶🏻 just write it if u feel like it
tw’s// jihyo x fem!reader, dom!jihyo, sub!reader, fingering, oral fixation, friends to ????, stylist!reader, idol!jihyo, lowkey latina jihyo, //
The A/C in your apartment hummed a low white noise as you hunched slightly on your desk, pen in hand, glasses slightly falling off the bridge of your nose, you scrolled through endless pinterest boards you had made the other day, yet nothing was giving you the right inspiration.
You bit your lip out of frustration and you sketched a tiny design in the notepad section of your split screen, using some of the designs are references. You hated it, you scribbled over it and slammed your pen down,cursing under your breath.
Suddenly, your phone rang. You picked it up witho looking at the caller ID, you were used to random business calls throughout the day.
“Hello, this is Y/N speaking.” you answered in a business voice, there was a moment of silence before a husky chuckle was heard on the other end of the phone.
You pulled the phone back from your ear, brows furrowing, only to realize it had been on FaceTime this whole time. Jihyo’s face filled the screen — makeup still done up so prettily from her schedule, a wide grin stretched across her face as she dangled her car keys in front of the camera, practically gloating that she was finally off work.
“Oh,” you breathed out, equal parts caught off guard and unbothered, because this was just how Jihyo was.
You propped the phone up against one of your unlit candles —you never bothered lighting them, they just sat there looking pretty and decorative, so they made a perfectly good phone stand— and turned your attention back to your iPad, only half-listening as Jihyo launched into a recap of her day.
“Work was so bad today,” she said, dragging her feet through the parking lot, camera bouncing slightly with each step. “Not like, bad bad. Just.. tiring, you know? Like a good kind of tired.”
“Mm,” you hummed, only catching half of it, eyes flicking between the Pinterest board and the blank notepad.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance,” she said suddenly, teasing lacing her voice as she scanned the rows of cars for hers.
You didn’t answer. You were busy chewing on the end of your Apple Pencil, brows pinched, staring at a sketch you’d already half-decided you hated.
She spotted her white Benz a few rows down and unlocked it with a soft click that echoed through the speaker. There was a pause —the kind that stretched a little too long for the two of you, who usually filled every silence with bickering and nonsense— and Jihyo noticed it immediately once she slid into the driver’s seat.
She propped her phone up on the tiny stand clipped near the steering wheel, took a slow sip from her water bottle, and waited a beat before asking, “What’s up with you?”
You sighed, dragging a hand down your face. “Stuck,” you admitted. “On your guys’ concert designs. Deadline’s not for three months but I don’t even have base concepts yet and I feel like shit about it.”
Another pause. A low hum from her end, the kind that meant she was actually listening now, not just half-present like you’d been. The engine rumbled to life.
“Is that it?” she asked. “You doing anything else tonight?”
You shook your head, pencil drifting back between your teeth.
“Alright,” she said, like she’d already made up her mind before she even finished asking. “Give me twenty. I’m gonna grab coffee for the both of us and come over, okay?”
You rolled your eyes, telling her she didn’t have to, that she had way too much free time tonight and was clearly just bored.
“I am bored,” she agreed easily, not even glancing at the screen, eyes trained on the rearview mirror instead as she eased the car out of its spot in one smooth, practiced reverse. “And I wanted to see you. So.”
You watched the way she did it without even thinking —clean, easy, second nature— and something about it tugged at you for half a second longer than it should have.
You shoved the thought away just as fast as it came.
You stayed on FaceTime as she pulled out of the lot and merged onto the street, phone propped against the dash, your face bobbing slightly in the corner of her screen with every bump in the road. The conversation drifted easily, the way it always did with the two of you, it never had a real direction, just whatever came to mind.
“Oh my god, wait,” you said, sitting back in your chair, “Momo brought the dogs over today, right? Tell me what happened.”
Jihyo let out a laugh before she even started, the kind that came from somewhere genuine. “Okay so she brings both of them, right, because she can’t just bring one, that’s not allowed in her house apparently—”
“—and we’re all sat around the sofa in the practice room, we all had our shoes off cause we weren’t really practicing. And out of nowhere one of them just. Walks up to Tzuyu. Stares at her. And pees on her shoe.”
You burst out laughing, pencil falling out of your hand and clattering onto the desk. “No.”
“I’m serious! Tzuyu didn’t even move, she just stood there like—” Jihyo did an impression, deadpan, blank stare, “—like she short-circuited. Momo was apologizing so much, bowing to the dog and to Tzuyu at the same time.”
“To the dog too! She said he probably did it because he was stressed!”
You were full-on giggling now, the stress from earlier melting off your shoulders for the first time all evening. Jihyo glanced at the screen for half a second, the corner of her mouth tugging up at the sound of you laughing, before she turned her eyes back to the road.
“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping under your eye even though there were no actual tears. “What about you, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“Mm, gym probably,” she said, drumming her fingers lightly against the wheel at a red light. “Or the day after. Depends on Jeongyeon.”
“Why does it depend on Jeongyeon?”
She sighed, the kind of sigh that had a smile buried underneath it. “Because I’m the one who convinced her to start going with me, and now I physically cannot make myself go unless she’s there too. It’s so stupid.”
“That’s so real of you, actually.”
“Don’t agree with me, that’s embarrassing.” The light turned green and she eased forward. “What about you? What’ve you been doing besides being stressed at your desk?”
“Studying, mostly,” you said, leaning back, the glow of your iPad still lighting half your face. “Running errands. Nothing exciting. I’ve barely left my apartment except for groceries.”
“That tracks.” The coffee shop sign came into view up ahead, and she flicked her blinker on. “Hold on, ordering.”
She pulled up to the speaker, rolling her window down halfway as a tinny voice crackled through asking for her order. “Hi, can I get an iced matcha with strawberry cold foam,” she said it without even thinking, like it lived in muscle memory at this point, “and a cold brew with mocha, that’s it, thank you.”
You blinked. “You didn’t even ask what I wanted.”
“Because I already know what you want,” she said simply, like that wasn’t a whole thing to unpack, eyes flicking briefly to the camera with a small, knowing smile before pulling forward in line.
The window was still down, and the night breeze caught the loose strands of her hair, sweeping them back from her face as she waited, one hand draped lazily over the top of the wheel. The streetlight above caught the side of her face just right, and for a second you just stared. Forgot you were even holding your phone, forgot the half-finished sketches sitting open behind her face on your screen.
A slow, teasing grin spread across her face, all confidence, not even bothering to hide that she clocked it. “What,” she said, tilting her head, “do I have something on my face?”
“No,” you said quickly, way too quickly, heat creeping up your neck as you looked away and pretended to be very interested in your Pinterest board again. “Nothing. You just… you look pretty. That’s all.”
There was a beat of silence on her end. When you glanced back up, the teasing grin had softened into something smaller, quieter.. a closed-mouth smile she didn’t seem to be aware she was making, eyes a little warmer than before.
“Thank you,” she said, voice quieter too, before the car ahead of her moved up and she had to pull forward.
She gave the camera one last glance, lingering just a second too long, before facing forward again, hand resting on the wheel as she waited to pull up to the window and grab the coffee.
The rest of the drive passed in easy, looping conversation — nothing important, just the kind of talk that filled space because neither of you really wanted to hang up. But somewhere underneath the bickering and the laughing, there was a thread of something quieter pulling tight, little pauses that lasted a beat too long, glances held a second past comfortable. Neither of you mentioned it. You both let it sit there, humming under the surface.
“Okay, I’m parking,” she said eventually, the engine cutting off, the sound of her seatbelt unclicking. “I’ll just take the stairs.”
“There’s literally an elevator, Ji.”
“I know. I want the extra cardio.” You could hear the grin in her voice, the rustle of her bag, the click of her car door. “Hanging up now, don’t miss me too much.”
“As if,” you muttered, but she’d already hung up, the screen going dark before you could even roll your eyes properly.
You sat there for a second, staring at your blank lock screen, before shaking it off and pushing yourself up to actually tidy the chaos on your desk though “tidy” mostly meant shoving loose papers into a pile and closing out of browser tabs you’d never get back to tonight.
A few minutes later, a knock.
You crossed the apartment and unlocked the door, and there she was. Jihyo, two coffees in hand, hair slightly windblown from the walk up, cheeks just a little flushed from the stairs. And even after all these years, even after watching her get glammed up under a hundred different lights for a hundred different stages, you thought she was always prettier like this. Just her. No styling team, no expectations, no cameras. Just the girl you’d known since you were both barely out of being kids yourselves.
“Hi,” she said, smile breaking across her face as she stepped in, setting the coffees down on the nearest surface before pulling you into a hug, one arm looping around your waist, the other coming up your back.
You caught her scent immediately— that woody, warm perfume of hers, laced faintly with the smell of sweat from dance practice earlier that hadn’t fully washed out yet— and it did something to you, something you didn’t really want to examine too closely. You smiled into it anyway, letting the hug linger half a second longer than it probably needed to.
She pulled back first, eyes bright. “Show me what you have.”
You nodded, leading her toward your bedroom. You dropped into the chair by your desk, grabbing your iPad, while she settled onto the edge of your bed like she’d done a hundred times before, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You rolled your chair a little closer and started rambling, the brief the company had given you, mature concept, heavy on the jewels, structured silhouettes, this reference, that color palette.
“Well,” Jihyo cut in, leaning back on her hands, head tilting, “how about you start with my design. I’m right here, anyway.”
You bit your lip, just slightly, just out of habit while you thought— and you could’ve sworn her eyes flicked down for a second, lingering there before dragging back up to meet yours.
“Okay,” you said, clearing your throat, trying to focus, pulling your knees up onto the chair as you opened a fresh page on the iPad. “So for you — mature, right? What were you thinking, like, fabric-wise?”
Jihyo hummed, thinking, eyes drifting to the ceiling for a second before coming back to you. “I like lace,” she said. “Like— not the soft, delicate kind. The structured kind. With leather, maybe. Something that looks like it could go either way, soft and sharp at the same time.”
You nodded slowly, already sketching loose lines, only half paying attention to what your hand was doing because you were more focused on her voice, the way she talked about clothes like she actually thought about this stuff more than people gave her credit for.
“Leather and lace,” you repeated, mostly to yourself. “Okay. Corset-style top, maybe? With like — “ you gestured vaguely with the pencil, “—a leather harness layered over it. Something with a little bit of edge so it doesn't read too soft.”
“Mm.” She scooted forward slightly, off the edge of the bed, until her knee was nearly brushing yours, peering over at the screen. “Yeah. Like that. I like that you get it.”
“It’s my job to get it,” you said, voice quieter than you meant it to come out, very aware of how close she was now, the warmth radiating off her side pressing lightly against your arm.
“No,” she said, and when you glanced over she was already looking at you, not the screen. “I mean you get me. There’s a difference.”
You swallowed, pencil stilling mid-stroke. “Ji—”
“What,” she said, soft, the teasing edge from earlier gone now, replaced by something steadier, more deliberate. Her eyes dropped to your mouth, just briefly, the same way they had a few minutes ago, except this time she didn’t pretend otherwise. “You always do that. Stop yourself right when you’re about to say something.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do.” She reached over, gently, and took the iPad from your hands, setting it aside on the desk without breaking eye contact. “Y/N.”
Your name in her mouth, low like that, did something to the air in the room.
“What are you doing,” you said, but it came out more like a question you didn’t actually want answered with words.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, a small, almost nervous laugh escaping her, which was rare, because Jihyo was never nervous about anything. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Tonight, mostly.”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead she reached up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering against your jaw after, thumb brushing once, slow, over your cheekbone. Your breath caught somewhere in your throat.
“Can I,” she started, then stopped, searching your face like she was looking for permission, or maybe just confirmation that this wasn’t one-sided.
You didn’t say anything. You just leaned in, just slightly, just enough.
She closed the rest of the distance, her hand sliding to cup the side of your face as her lips met yours— soft, certain, the kind of kiss that felt like it had been sitting there, waiting, for longer than either of you wanted to admit. You felt her smile against your mouth for half a second before she kissed you again, a little deeper this time, her other hand coming to rest lightly on your knee, steadying herself, steadying you.
When she finally pulled back, just barely, foreheads still close enough to touch, she let out a breath, a quiet laugh following it.
“Took you long enough,” she murmured.
“Took me long enough?” You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave you away completely. “You’re unbelievable.”
You leaned in before she could respond, kissing her again — slower this time, more intentional, your hand coming up to curve around the back of her neck. Her skin was warm under your palm, still slightly damp from earlier, soft in a way that made your fingers want to stay there.
She melted into it almost immediately, a quiet exhale leaving her against your mouth, her hand tightening just slightly where it rested on your knee.
She didn't let you finish your sentence before she was moving, pushing off the bed and into your lap in one smooth motion, the chair creaking under the sudden shift of weight. Her knees bracketed your hips, hands framing your face as she kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue going inside your mouth, like she'd been holding back and had finally stopped bothering to.
You kissed her back just as messily, one hand sliding up her spine, the other still curled at the back of her neck, holding her in place like you were scared she'd pull away and this would all turn out to be some elaborate joke.
It wasn't. The way her fingers tangled into your hair, the small sounds she let slip against your mouth, none of that was a joke.
You both finally broke apart, chests rising and falling, a thin string still connecting your lips for a beat before it snapped. She let out a low chuckle, breathless, clearly pleased with herself, eyes half-lidded as she watched you try to catch your breath.
“Cute,” she murmured, voice rough, before her hand drifted up, fingers brushing your bottom lip slowly, deliberately.
You didn't move, didn't break eye contact, you wrapped her pointer and middle finger around your lips, sucking, pushing them deep into your mouth, watching the way her own breath hitched slightly at your actions.
She leaned in, trailing her lips along your jaw, down the side of your neck, slow and unhurried, like she had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it. Your fingers tightened against her back, a quiet moan slipping out of you that you didn't bother holding in.
“Ji—” you pulled off her fingers with a pop, but whatever you meant to say got lost somewhere between her name and the way she hummed against your skin in response.
“Shh, baby..” she kissed down your clothed body, her arms going to your sides to grope at the covered skin. You bit your lip, unconsciously going to push her head further down, almost impatiently.
“Can i take it off?” she looked up at you, knees probably bruising on the hardwood floor, she didn’t care, atleast not right now. You nodded and that’s all she needed.
You lifted your hips up for her and she slowly took off your shorts, dropping them to your ankles, she looked at the wet patch on your underwear, and then back up at you— her face said it all.
“What? i haven’t even said anything.”
“It’s cute, i swear.” she smiled as she took both of your knees, spreading your legs, she ran two fingers onto the wet patch, your hips bucked forward.
“Fuck, Y/N.” she smirked as she shuffled your underwear off you, slow, deliberate, almost as if she wanted to savor the moment, your body being something so sacred to her.
She might’ve cummed on the spot at the sight of your cunt, she looked away, swallowing hard, the heat rushing from her face to down her neck and chest.
“What? don’t tell me you’re backing out now, Hyo?” you teased, biting your lip, the breeze from the lack of closed drew goosebumps to your skin.
You didn’t need any kind of warmth though. You needed her warmth.
“Shut up.” she bit back, holding on to one of your thighs for support as she spread your folds, going to your clit and rubbing it in figure eights, applying the slightest amount of pressure onto it, “Is this good, baby?”
She knew it was good, the way you naturally melted into her touch, almost as if you’ve been aching this for god knows how long, the adrenaline rushing to your brain, your mouth feel open, noises falling out. You closed your eyes.
She giggled, “That’s it, mami.” she applied the tiniest bit of extra pressure, spreading you open with her other hand to look at your hole, “Just let go for me, please.. You don’t know how much i’ve longed for this.” she huffed, her other hand going to press her ring and middle finger into you,—just the tip of her fingers— you clenched immediately onto them, almost sucking them in.
“I got you baby.” she finally pushed in with one swift motion, pumping her fingers in and out of your pussy, “You’re doing so good, you’re such a good girl, Y/N.”
You bit your lip hard, but the groan still came out, “My god, Jihyo, keep calling me that.”
“Yeah? you like getting praised?”
“I knew it.” she curled her fingers up, squelching filling the room, “Knew it from how much you’d ask for advice, tell me your goals. Just so you could hear me boast about how proud i am for you..” she pushed up and hit a spot in you that made you try and close your legs. She shoved them open
“Knew it from how much you’d ask me if you were doing good, you just wanted to hear me praise you, huh? You like that?” she smirked, speeding up the pace of her thrusts. Hands on your clit adding slight more stimulation.
You whined, pout on your lips and you bucked your hips forward with every thrust, pushing her fingers knuckle deep into your pussy. “Fucks sake, Hyo.”
“Be a good girl and call me baby.”
You groaned as she removed her fingers rubbing your clit and replaced it with her tongue. “Oh—Mmph.. Baby… shit!”
Jihyo’s eyes rolled back and she groaned, her tongue sucking gently on your clit as she pumped deeper.
Your noises rose an octave, she knew she was doing well, she knew you were close to climaxing.
“You’re close baby? You gonna cum good for me, huh?”
She hit your thigh lightly, “Say it. Say you need to cum.”
“Jihyo—Baby, ugh… I need to cum, i wanna cum.”
“Cum for me, be a good fucking girl and make a mess on me.”
She kept the pace, earning your orgasm, she drew it out, making sure you get all the stimulation you deserve.
And as you finally came down, she smirked, going up to kiss you, “You okay?.”
You panted, you couldn’t form any words.
The iPad sat forgotten on the desk, the Pinterest board still open, the deadline still looming three months out.
Neither of you cared, not right now.
“Hey,” she mumbled eventually, voice thick with the edge of sleep, “you still stressed about the designs?”
You huffed a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Not even a little.”
“Come on, let me clean you up and i’ll actually help you with this.”
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