Nasty Habits | Park Jisung
nasty habits | park jisung
pairing: pervy!jisung x camgirl! reader
genre: smut, a little bit of fluff at the end
summary: what happens when you find out that your top spender as a cam girl isn’t some rich old guy, but an awkward boy from your campus?
wc: 20k+
warnings: cam girl activities, usage of sex toys, cursing, loss of virginity, sub!jisung, masturbation (like a lot of it), oral sex (fem.receiving), jisung is his usual introverted self (and only loud during sex), a lot of sexualization and just overall horniness lol. lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: heeey loves! i was absolutely floored with the amount of love that my latest fic got, so here i am with another one for you. this is my first jisung fic so im excited but also nervous bc jisung is one of my biases. idk why it took me so long to write him. but anyways i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. ps; y/n is terrible at recognizing people or remembering names and i’m only putting that here bc it comes out a few times in the fic lol (she’s just like me fr), ALSO, this is loosely inspired by BJ Alex. oh and one last thing, the idea for this fic or at least the characters’ dynamic was inspired by this tweet.
your college days have been, for the most part, unremarkable in the best way. you pulled decent grades, had a solid group of friends, and were generally well-liked.
but despite being somewhat popular, you managed to keep a lot about yourself private.
and by that, you mean the secret life that only a handful of your closest friends knew about.
after all, being a cam girl wasn’t exactly your average college hobby.
it started on a whim, born from equal parts boredom and curiosity. at first, you had no idea what you were doing. your streams were awkward, your lighting was bad, and your concept was nonexistent. but after a few months, you found your niche and suddenly, you were kind of a big deal on the platform.
granted, the website you streamed on was pretty obscure, the kind of place you could name in public, and nobody would so much as glance your way. still, you made decent money. enough to pay for your first two years of college, entirely out of pocket.
you never flaunted it, and most of your friends didn’t care to pry. they only ever joked about it, like they were doing now after you casually mentioned how much you’d earned last month.
“girl, what the hell. maybe i should start camming too,” giselle said, eyes wide as she stared at the number on your screen.
“you say that like it’s a joke, but i’m dead serious,” karina chimed in, striking a dramatic pose in front of the mirror. “i checked my bank account yesterday and almost cried.”
“i mean, i’m not saying you should, but if you need pointers…” you teased, shooting them a wink
“for real though, you’ve gotten so much confidence from this,” giselle pointed out, leaning back against the bed frame.
“oh yeah, nothing boosts your self-esteem like a 60 year old man telling you your ‘princess bits’ are so pretty he busted one in his pants,” you deadpanned, propping your chin on your hand.
“okay, they can’t all be old men,” karina snorted “like can you see their profiles or anything?” she asked, abandoning the mirror and flopping onto the bed beside you.
“not really. just their usernames and how much they’ve spent on my channel.”
“wait, check your top supporter!” giselle said, bouncing a little in excitement.
you scrolled through the dashboard until his username popped up. the moment your friends saw how much he’d spent on you this year, they both let out a loud gasp.
“what in the sugar daddy is this?” karina said, laughing in disbelief. “eighteen thousand dollars? that’s literally my entire tuition!”
“i don’t get the full amount, though. the site takes a cut, then there’s taxes and all that,” you clarified, shrugging.
“still! that’s insane,” giselle said, shaking her head. “honestly, i don’t feel bad about you paying for our sushi nights anymore.”
you laughed, leaning back into your pillows.
“but aren’t you even a little curious about who this…” karina squinted at the screen, “andyp4rk02 is? i need to know everything about this man.”
“i mean, of course i’m curious. but there’s no way to find out,” you said, twirling a strand of hair absentmindedly.
“unless…” giselle said, dragging the word out with a sly grin.
you raised a brow. “unless what?”
“haechan.”
you frowned. “what about him?”
“he could probably hack into this thing,” she said with a casual wave of her hand, as if that wasn’t a completely ridiculous suggestion.
“giselle, he’s a computer science major, not a dark web hacker,” karina said, rolling her eyes.
“okay, but remember when i got locked out of my netflix? he did some tech magic on his computer and got my account back.”
“yeah, because recovering a netflix account is exactly the same as hacking into a cam site,” you said dryly.
“i’m just saying, have you seen his setup? it’s literally something out of a spy movie,” giselle insisted.
karina shrugged. “it wouldn’t hurt to ask him…”
you hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t know, guys…”
“oh, come on,” karina said, nudging your shoulder. “don’t you want to know who this guy is?”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
they somehow managed to convince you, which was how you found yourself shivering outside haechan’s dorm, rubbing your arms to keep warm. the air was biting, and as always, haechan wasn’t picking up his phone.
“when he opens this door, i’m kicking him straight in the balls,” you muttered, bouncing on your toes to stave off the cold. giselle was furiously rubbing her hands up and down your arms and karina’s, trying to share what little warmth she had.
“we should’ve called earlier,” karina said through chattering teeth, her lower lip trembling. “he might not even be in.”
giselle huffed dramatically. “okay, this is ridiculous.” she stepped back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “lee haechan, come out right now!” her voice echoed down the street, startling a group of students walking by.
“haechan! get your ass down here!” you joined in, your voice cracking slightly in the cold.
karina gave a small, pitiful laugh. “he lives on the second floor… there’s no way he heard that.”
before she could finish, the door creaked open, revealing one of his roommates. you recognized him immediately but, as usual, couldn’t recall his name. he was younger than you by a year and usually kept to himself whenever you visited.
“uh… hey?” he said, blinking at the sight of the three of you standing there like frostbitten strays. he leaned awkwardly against the doorframe, clearly wondering why three girls were yelling outside their dorm at 9 p.m. on a tuesday.
giselle, ever the charmer, broke into a dazzling smile. “hi! thank you! we’re here for haechan.”
“okay,” he said quietly, still eyeing you all with suspicion. “he’s probably in his room playing league or something.” he stepped aside slowly, letting you in.
“thank you,” you muttered as you walked past, catching the way his gaze immediately dropped to the floor when you made eye contact.
once inside, you didn’t waste any time. storming up to haechan’s door, you knocked violently before pushing it open without waiting for an answer.
“what the hell—” haechan swiveled in his gaming chair, his startled expression melting into a sly grin as soon as he saw you. “hii, girls. to what do i owe the pleasure?” his tone shifted into his mock customer service voice as he leaned back, giving you his most charming smile.
giselle jabbed a finger into his shoulder, making him wince. “were you jerking off, or is your phone shoved up your ass? why didn’t you answer our calls?”
“sorry, i was mid-round, and my phone was on silent,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and smiling sheepishly.
karina folded her arms and sat on the edge of his bed, only to spring back up with a grimace. “ugh, have you even left your room this week?” she asked, glaring at the mountain of empty takeout containers and water bottles scattered across the floor.
“it’s winter break,” haechan said, turning back to his computer and clicking out of the game. “of course i haven’t.”
giselle gestured dramatically at the mess. “you’re one step away from being in a hoarders episode, dude.”
haechan ignored her, spinning in his chair to face you again. “so, what brings such beautiful company to my humble abode?” his eyes lingered on you pointedly.
“he only looked at y/n while saying that. wow.” giselle placed a hand on her chest in mock offense.
“she’s not gonna suck your dick, haechan,” karina said flatly, shaking her head.
“i didn’t even say anything!” he protested, deflating slightly in his chair, his pout almost comical.
“anyway,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “i need a favor.”
haechan perked up immediately. “anything for you,” he said with a wink, which earned an exaggerated gagging noise from karina.
you crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “okay, first: how’s your hacking game these days?”
“eh… like a seven. why?”
“do you think you could, uh, hack into angel corner?”
his eyebrows shot up. “oh, oh.” he swiveled back to his computer, clearly intrigued. “i mean, i’m not super familiar with their system—it depends on their encryption layers and backend coding. but…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. “it shouldn’t be too hard. why do you want me to hack them, though?”
you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, trying to look as innocent as possible. “just… curious about one of my subscribers.”
giselle chimed in unhelpfully. “her top subscriber.”
haechan spun his chair back around, narrowing his eyes. “and what exactly do you want to know?”
you hesitated, glancing at karina and giselle. the truth was, you hadn’t really thought this through.
“everything,” karina said firmly, her eyes glinting with a kind of mischievous excitement.
haechan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “okay, but what’s in it for me?”
giselle thought for a second and then grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “y/n will sit on your lap while you do your nerdy shit.”
haechan shot out of his chair, clapping his hands. “deal!”
“huh?! i did not agree to this.” you immediately protested.
“c’mooon,” giselle said with a pout. “don’t you want to know?”
haechan patted his lap smugly. “don’t worry, baby. i don’t bite.”
groaning, you finally gave in, muttering curses under your breath as you sat on his lap. he sighed contentedly, spinning back toward his computer. with a few quick clicks, he opened a screen that looked straight out of a movie just as giselle said before. lines of code and strange tabs you didn’t recognize.
“how do you even know how to do this?” you asked, leaning slightly to the side to avoid touching his chest.
“self-taught,” he replied with a shrug.
“great,” you muttered. “i’m trusting a bootleg hacker to invade my subscriber’s privacy. that’s just fantastic.”
“hey, relax,” haechan said, grinning. “you’re in good hands.”
“can we get this over with so i can get off you?” you groaned, shifting uncomfortably on haechan’s lap.
“why? i’m cozy,” he said with a cheeky grin, snuggling into your back. you retaliated with a flick to his forehead.
“ow!” he yelped, immediately rubbing the spot. “i’m so nice to you and all you do is hurt me.”
“you’ll cope. now, what’s this?” you asked, pointing at the maze of numbers and codes flickering across the screen.
“this,” he said, his brows knitting in concentration, “is me trying to break through their firewall… which is a lot more complicated than i thought.”
“well, obviously,” karina chimed in from behind you, inspecting her nails, only half invested in the conversation. “that site probably has CEOs and politicians on it. maybe one of them is your top subscriber, because who else has eighteen thousand dollars to blow on a cam girl?”
“what?!” haechan yelled, whipping around so fast you nearly fell off his lap. “eighteen thousand?!”
“that was my ear,” you muttered, steadying yourself.
he cleared his throat dramatically, but his ears flushed pink. “right, sorry. anyway—oh, wait, i’m in!”
“wait, really?!” you leaned forward in excitement, your hands clutching the edge of his desk. “oh my god, that’s so cool, i could kiss you right now!”
“please do,” haechan replied, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes.
“be a man,” karina said, smacking him on the back of his head as she moved closer.
“okay, so… bad news or good news first?” haechan asked, his smug grin returning as he reclined slightly in his chair.
“just rip the band-aid off,” you said, crossing your arms. “what’s the bad news?”
“your top spender is smart. like, annoyingly smart. the only personal info he filled out was his gender, and for his name he used a zelda character.”
“what a virgin,” he added with a laugh.
“look who’s talking,” giselle shot back.
“hey, i’m not the one spending thousands on a cam girl who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” haechan retorted, his tone defensive. “and for the record, i do get some action, thank you very much.”
“sure you do,” karina muttered, rolling her eyes. “anyway, what’s the good news?”
haechan grinned like a cat who’d caught a particularly juicy mouse. “i can get his IP address.”
“wait, for real? what are you waiting for?” giselle leaned in, her eyes darting to the screen.
“hold on.” you hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of your excitement. “isn’t this… a bit much? like, it feels illegal.”
giselle waved a hand dismissively. “please. we’ve come this far… we can’t leave with just this. we already knew he was a guy. only a man would be that desperate.”
“and besides,” karina added, “you’ve been sitting on this nerd’s lap for twenty minutes. make it worth something.”
“touché,” giselle said, nodding. “by the way, you can get up now.”
“yeah, but…” you paused, shifting slightly. “he was right—his lap is cozy.”
“told ya,” haechan said smugly, shooting you a wink. “so, should i pull up his IP or what?”
you sighed covering your face with your hands, hoping it would make the shame and ethical gray area feel a little less overwhelming “ugh. fine. just do it.”
haechan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of taps and clicks as lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen. within three minutes, he sat back triumphantly.
“got it,” he said. but then his smile faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion. “wait… that can’t be right.”
“what?” you dropped your hands and leaned forward. “what’s wrong?”
karina’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen. “isn’t that…?”
giselle’s voice was barely above a whisper. “isn’t that this dorm?”
you all stared at the address blinking on the screen. it was the exact building you were sitting in.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
“you’ve all been staring at me for the past three minutes, and i’m feeling very threatened right now,” haechan said, his voice trembling.
the three of you stood in front of him, arms crossed and glares locked onto his soul.
“well, we just think it’s way too much of a freaky coincidence that her top spender just so happens to live here,” giselle said, her tone accusatory. “care to explain?”
“wait, wait, wait,” haechan stammered, his hands flying up in surrender. “you’re not seriously implying i’m the top spender, right? cause that’s just—” he laughed nervously, “—ridiculous!”
“oh, is it?” karina quipped, raising a perfectly arched brow. “you’re always flirting with y/n and acting like a simp. what’s a few thousand dollars for your ‘queen’?”
“oh, come on!” haechan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “i’m naturally a flirty guy. that’s my thing! and where do you guys think i’d even get that kind of money?”
he gestured around the room to back up his claim. the pile of ramen cups and the stack of free campus hoodies spoke louder than he ever could.
“besides,” he added, dropping his arms, “i’m not even subscribed to her channel. i admit i checked it out a few times after y/n told me about it, but i promise i’m not a weirdo or anything. you’re my best friend, y/n.”
his voice softened at the end, and you felt yourself relaxing slightly. haechan might be a flirt, a tease, and a relentless pain in the ass, but he wasn’t the kind of person to keep something like this hidden from you.
“he’s telling the truth, you guys,” you said finally, breaking the tension.
karina tilted her head, sizing him up. “yeah, i didn’t think a bum like him would drop that much money on you anyway.” she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “he asked me for five dollars the other day… by the way, give me back my money.”
“dude, it was five bucks! let it go,”
“let it go?” karina shot back. “i could’ve gotten a latte with that!”
“okay, okay,” giselle cut in, waving her hands to calm them down. “if it’s not haechan, who else could it be? is there anyone in this dorm who’s… obsessed with you?”
you blinked, thinking hard. “not that i know of. i mean, i don’t really talk to anyone here except for haechan.”
“how many guys live here?” giselle asked, turning to haechan.
“including me? 5,” he said, counting on his fingers. “but i’m pretty sure jeno has a girlfriend... so that leaves mark, jaemin, and jisung.”
“since when has having a girlfriend ever stopped a man from doing something shady?” karina deadpanned, crossing her arms.
“true,” haechan admitted with a shrug, “but let’s be real, girls… all of them are full-time students barely scraping by with part-time jobs. i doubt any of them have that kind of cash to drop freely.”
“you never know,” giselle chimed in. “isn’t mark’s brother the dealer on campus? maybe he borrowed some money.”
karina snorted. “you’re forgetting mark is practically a saint. the guy’s too religious and too much of a goody two-shoes to even think about something like that.”
“okay, what about jaemin?” giselle countered. “he’s always wearing designer stuff. what if he’s secretly loaded?”
karina gave her an incredulous look. “have you seen jaemin? he’s got a different girl drooling over his shoulder every other day. i don’t think he needs to subscribe to a cam girl to satisfy himself and i’m sure all those were gifts from desperate girls”
“then that leaves jisung,” you said slowly, the name clicking into place. “wait… isn’t he the one who let us in earlier? the freshman?”
karina nodded. “oh right, the tall awkward kid. that would explain why he couldn’t even look at you.”
“wait, jisung?” haechan burst out laughing. “no way. the kid’s barely in his twenties! you’re telling me he somehow scraped together eighteen thousand dollars to spend on y/n?”
“well, he does live in this building so that makes him a suspect…” giselle reasoned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
“ugh, this is getting too weird,” you muttered, pacing the small room. “are we really saying jisung might be the guy?”
“i mean, you never know,” karina said with a smirk. “quiet ones are always full of surprises.”
haechan groaned, flopping back into his chair. “this is turning into a bad episode of CSI”
“if he’s the top spender, that means he has a thing for y/n,” giselle said, grinning. “we should just ask him directly.”
“absolutely not,” you said quickly, your face heating up.
“why not?” karina teased. “we’re already halfway to solving this mystery. might as well get the confession.”
“no, i think this has already gotten out of control… you guys are too caught up on finding who it is but personally i don’t care that much, i’m fine with not knowing”
“really, even after finding out he’s living in this very dorm?” karina asked walking up to you.
“yeah. i don’t care.” you were lying and they could probably tell by your face but, surprisingly, they didn’t press you.
“okay, fine. let’s go home.”
“i think we should have a sleepover. what do you think, girls?” haechan said and you responded by throwing a pillow at him as you exited the room.
“damn, not even a thank you.” he said, rubbing his head.
you sprinted back into the room and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “thank you!” you said sweetly.
“and clean your room, it stinks!” you yelled from the hallway.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
winter break had ended, and after coming back from visiting your family, you’d mostly forgotten about the fact that your top spender lived in one of your best friend’s dorms.
but your dismissive attitude disappeared as soon as the new term started.
suddenly, you were hyper-aware of every one of haechan’s roommates. even the ones you’d previously ruled out. like, why was jeno suddenly smiling at you from across the dining hall? and was that… a smirk you saw on mark’s face as you walked by? certainly not—you had to be imagining things. you were just being extremely paranoid.
“hey, gorg!!!” giselle greeted you with extra enthusiasm, practically bouncing into the room.
“you’re happy today,” karina observed, raising an eyebrow.
“i am! i really think i cracked this case, y’all.”
you sighed, already bracing yourself. “enlighten us,” you said flatly.
karina rolled her eyes. “you do know no one cares anymore, right?”
giselle ignored her and continued. “by the way, how were you guys’ breaks?” she asked casually before immediately cutting herself off. “never mind, we’ll get to that later. listen, i was in line for food earlier, and guess who i saw?”
when neither of you spoke, she dramatically continued, “jaemin.”
“fork found in kitchen. of course he’d be at the cafeteria during lunch,” you said, unimpressed.
“no, but listen! i said hi to him, and he flinched so hard he nearly dropped his phone. then he tried to hide it.”
“maybe somebody sent him nudes or something,” karina said, shrugging.
giselle shook her head, leaning in conspiratorially. “no, but catch this… he asked if i was here alone, and when i pointed at you”—she turned to you with a wide grin—“he blushed furiously.”
you tsked, slumping back in your chair. “that still proves nothing.”
“okay, but isn’t it suspicious?” giselle pressed. “why would he blush that hard just because i mentioned you?”
“because he’s a human being with a working circulatory system?” you shot back.
karina snorted. “for real. giselle, you’re acting like you just uncovered a government conspiracy.”
“you guys are just blind,” giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “mark my words… it’s him. jaemin’s the one.”
“even if it was him, what am i supposed to do with that information? march up to him and say, ‘hey, thanks for the eighteen grand’?”
“you should,” karina said with a smirk. “at least get him to buy you lunch.”
giselle sighed dramatically, feeling like she was surrounded by fools. “fine. don’t believe me. but when this all comes out, just remember i called it first.”
“boo!”
haechan’s voice was directly in your ear, and you jumped so hard you nearly spilled your coffee all over yourself.
“what the hell! i almost ruined my new skirt,” you snapped, quickly checking to make sure no drops had actually landed on the fabric.
“did you buy that with jaemin’s allowance?” he teased, a grin stretching across his face.
you responded by flipping him off, which only made him laugh as he slid into the seat next to you.
“you heard everything?” karina asked, giving him an unimpressed look.
“hard not to,” he replied casually. “in case you didn’t know, gi, your discreet voice is about as discreet as a foghorn.”
giselle rolled her eyes. “thanks for the input, hacker boy.”
“i’ve already said to drop the topic,” you cut in, frustrated. “what if one of them hears? and! you guys are being so obvious about it… don’t think i haven’t noticed the pointed stares you keep giving to every guy from the dorm. i’m sure they’ve noticed, too.”
“we’re just trying to help,” giselle said, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force.
“and i do appreciate it,” you replied, though your tight smile probably said otherwise, “but i’d appreciate it even more if we all just moved on.”
your tone made it clear that the discussion was over, and the table fell into an awkward silence.
you felt a little bad about shutting them down so abruptly, but the truth was, you didn’t want them to figure out who your top spender was. not because you cared about protecting his identity, exactly… but because you feared that, in the process, they’d also find out the full truth:
you’d already interacted with him before.
not just casually, either. your top spender had paid for private sessions. more than once.
you still didn’t know what he looked like since he’d never turned on his camera but you could probably recognize his voice. a voice that, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, had been replaying in your head ever since that night you found out he was likely a student in this university. a deep voice that had a habit of making your heart race despite your best efforts to stay professional.
“i know you said to drop it, but is it just me or does hae’s nerdy friend keep looking this way every few seconds?” karina asked, nodding subtly toward a table a few feet away.
you turned your head, catching a glimpse of jisung sitting by himself, fiddling with his phone. “maybe he wants to sit with us,” you shrugged. “call him over, hae.”
“yo, jisung!” haechan called, raising a hand to wave the taller boy over.
jisung froze in place, his eyes widening briefly before he hastily shoved on his headphones and scurried away like a startled deer.
you frowned, puzzled. “what was that about?”
“that was so weird,” giselle snorted, biting back a laugh.
“ah, he’s just awkward like that,” haechan said with a casual wave of his hand. “probably saw me sitting with gorgeous girls” he locked eyes with you as he said this “and got scared.”
“anyways,” you rolled your eyes, but the slight twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed your amusement. “i have to go.”
“part-time obligations?” karina asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.
“possibly,” you shrugged nonchalantly as you got up.
“can i come?” haechan asked.
you rolled your eyes at haechan’s hopeful grin as he stood up. “you wish,” you said, pushing him back into his seat before grabbing your bag and heading out.
your destination wasn’t your dorm or the library. instead, you made your way to the small studio you rented off-campus, tucked far enough away to avoid suspicion.
the studio was modest, just big enough to fit a bed, a desk, a small bathroom, and your filming setup. the air smelled faintly of vanilla, thanks to the diffuser you kept running to set the mood. locking the door behind you, you exhaled deeply and began preparing for the night.
the routine was familiar, almost comforting. you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you mentally ran through the checklist. after drying off, you slipped into your costume for the night—a delicate white lace dress with baby blue accents that hugged your body in all the right places.
at the vanity, you carefully applied your makeup, adding just enough to transform yourself into collette, your cam girl persona and paired with a small mask that covered your eyes and half of your nose. the wig was the final touch, a wavy style that framed your face perfectly, making you almost unrecognizable from your day-to-day self.
“let’s see,” you adjusted the camera angle to capture the bed and the soft glow of the fairy lights behind it.
you glanced at the table beside the bed, where the new toys you’d promised to showcase were neatly arranged. taking one last look in the mirror, you marveled at how different you looked.
“all right,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your reflection one last time. “let’s get this show started.”
you hit start on your stream, and the chat immediately flooded with messages, emojis, and tips.
“hi, guys!” you greeted, your voice shifting into a higher, sweeter tone. “missed you all so much during the break.”
the messages came in rapid-fire:
“omg collette’s back!”
“you look stunning as always.”
“been waiting for this for weeks!”
you giggled, leaning closer to the camera so that your cleavage filled the frame. “you’re all too sweet. did you miss me that much?”
the chat practically exploded with affirmations, and the pings of tips coming in made you smile wider.
“i see you guys like the new outfit,” you teased, slowly standing to give them a full view of your legs, moisturized and shimmering under the warm light. “but i didn’t just dress up for no reason. i have a surprise for you tonight.”
you reached for the toys on the desk, holding one up for the camera. “look what i got during the break,” you said, biting your lip playfully. “i thought you’d want to help me break them in.”
the tips surged as viewers expressed their excitement, but one notification caught your eye. andyp4rk02 has tipped $100.
you grinned, recognizing the username instantly. “hi, andy,” you said, your tone dropping to something more intimate. “you’re late today. i thought you’d ditched me for someone else.”
a new ping followed, this time $50, accompanied by a highlighted message: “sorry ;) private livestream later to make it up to you?”
you laughed softly, leaning back on the bed. “hmm,” you tapped your chin thoughtfully. “i think i can squeeze you in on my busy schedule.” with a wink, you moved to grab one of the toys, careful not to linger too long on a single viewer.
“shall we begin?” you asked, spreading your legs slightly to reveal that you were wearing nothing underneath the flimsy lace dress.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
on the other side of the screen, jisung sat in his dimly lit dorm, his face illuminated only by the glow of his computer. he’d barely made it back in time, his breath still heavy from the sprint across campus. it didn’t help that the second he clicked into your livestream, you were already spread out on the bed, teasing the camera with that perfect smile.
he adjusted his glasses nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. his heart was racing, but not from the run. no, it was from you. when you spread your legs, his breath hitched, and he felt his stomach tighten.
“you’re late today,” you’d said, and jisung shivered. god, it was like you were talking directly to him. well, you technically were, but still.
almost as if on autopilot, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. his fingers wrapped around himself, and he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen.
the angle of the camera was perfect. from his perspective, it was easy to imagine that it wasn’t the pink dildo but his own dick sliding in and out of you.
“fuck,” he whispered under his breath as you slid the dildo inside yourself, your lips parting in a perfect "o" shape as you let out a soft moan.
“feels so good,” you breathed into the camera, your lashes fluttering. “can you make me feel good, too?”
“yes,” jisung groaned, his voice shaky as he gripped himself tighter. “god, yes.”
your moans grew louder, your body arching in a way that made his pulse skyrocket. his brows furrowed, and he bit down on his lip, trying to keep quiet so none of his roommates would hear.
you tilted your head back, the camera catching the curve of your neck and the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. “don’t stop,” you whimpered.
as your voice came through his headphones, sultry and sweet, he muttered to himself, “so perfect. so perfect it’s insane.”
his hand moved faster, his mind filled with nothing but the image of you—so close, yet so untouchable.
he leaned closer, his breath fogging the screen for a moment. “god… i can make you feel so much better than that piece of plastic,” he muttered, his tone almost resentful.
“you don’t even know what i’d do to you,” he whispered
in a minute, jisung came hard, his entire body jerking as his cum shot up and splattered directly onto his keyboard and monitor. he barely registered the mess he made until he heard the faint crackle of his PC struggling under the assault.
“no, no, no—fuck!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking as he scrambled to wipe the pc with the sleeve of his hoodie.
it was too late. the screen flickered, the image of you mid-moan freezing for a few painful seconds before the whole system shorted out with a pathetic wheeze and went black. jisung sat there in stunned silence for a moment, his hand still clutching the stained hoodie sleeve.
“shit…” he muttered, not out of concern for his destroyed PC but because he was now going to miss the rest of your live.
this wasn’t the first time this happened. clearly, his setup was already on its last legs from similar incidents but it still sent a wave of frustration through him.
he slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “guess i’ll just have to catch the replay,” he mumbled, though the thought didn’t satisfy him nearly as much.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the first day of the semester loomed the next morning. you had promised yourself this was the year you’d start fresh. on time to every class, taking meticulous notes, and becoming the academic weapon you’d always meant to be.
of course, none of that happened.
you didn’t hear your alarm because you’d been up until 3 a.m. doing private livestreams for your top subscribers. normally, private sessions didn’t last more than 20 minutes, but andy had an uncanny way of distracting you with his playful, teasing messages, keeping you hooked well past the scheduled time.
you ran into your first class fifteen minutes late, panting slightly and trying not to look as frazzled as you felt. the professor shot you a disapproving look, but a quick apologetic smile from you had him stammering and waving you off. men are so simple, you thought smugly.
after quickly scanning the room, you noticed all the front-row seats were taken which left you with no choice but to settle near the back. you sighed and headed to an open seat in the second-to-last row, cursing your luck.
on your right sat some frat guy you vaguely recognized from the same house as karina’s boyfriend. his name escaped you, but since he was already asleep with his mouth hanging open, you didn’t bother introducing yourself.
on your left, the person was less immediately recognizable. he was hunched over, hoodie drawn tight around his face, typing furiously on his laptop. his long, slender fingers flew across the keyboard with precision, but he didn’t seem remotely aware of your presence.
you cleared your throat softly, hoping to get his attention. nothing.
you tried again, slightly louder this time, but his focus didn’t waver. finally, you tapped his shoulder lightly.
“excuse me, did i miss anything important?”
his fingers froze mid-typing, but he still didn’t look at you. instead, he tilted his laptop slightly in your direction, revealing a neatly formatted list of bullet points. most likely corrections to the syllabus the professor went over at the start of class.
“oh,” you said, caught off guard. “can i take a pic of that?”
he gave a small nod, still not meeting your eyes.
you quickly snapped a photo and smiled. “thank you so much,” you said, your tone warm as you instinctively squeezed his forearm in gratitude.
you felt his entire body stiffen under your touch, his arm tense as if you’d zapped him.
“mhm…” he finally muttered, his voice low and rough from disuse.
you glanced at him again, catching a glimpse of his side profile as he adjusted his hoodie. sharp jawline, glasses slightly askew, and lips pressed into a thin line as he quickly returned his focus to his laptop.
you tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.
“well, thanks again,” you said softly, giving him one last smile before turning back to face the professor.
behind his laptop, jisung exhaled shakily, the spot where you’d touched him burning.
jisung knew you were one of haechan’s friends. he’d watched you walk in and out of the dorm more times than he cared to admit. you were always laughing, tossing your hair over your shoulder in a way that made jisung’s eyes land on you unavoidably.
normally, he wouldn’t even glance twice at the girls his roommates brought around. they were all the same: loud, shallow, and obsessed with their reflection in any shiny surface.
but you weren’t like them.
he’d noticed it the first time you came over. how your voice was softer, more melodic, how you smelled like warm vanilla instead of the overpowering floral perfumes he hated. he remembered catching a glimpse of you bending down to grab something off the floor and how his gaze lingered too long on the curve of your legs before he snapped his head away.
since then, it had only gotten worse. it annoyed him that his brain seemed to remember every little detail about you. the way your lips always looked plump and shiny, as if you’d just licked them. how your laugh was this low, throaty sound that made his chest feel tight.
it was frustrating, how easily you wormed your way into his thoughts.
and now, here you were, sitting next to him. jisung felt trapped, his senses overwhelmed by your closeness. the faint rustle of your skirt, the way your knee accidentally grazed his thigh, the soft, almost unintentional hum you made as you shifted in your seat.
he knew it was all normal, just small, insignificant things. but to him, it felt like you were doing it on purpose. when you tapped his shoulder, jisung’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. his first thought was how warm your hand was.
his second thought was how unfair it was that you could touch him so casually.
“did i miss anything important?” you asked, your voice sweet, your smile even sweeter.
jisung didn’t respond right away. he was too busy trying not to look at the way your lips curved when you spoke. he knew if he opened his mouth, something embarrassing would come out. so instead, he tilted his laptop screen toward you, his fingers twitching against the keyboard. you asked if you could take a picture, and normally he didn’t like sharing his notes but he nodded before he could even stop himself.
“thank you so much,” you said, your voice dripping with warmth. and then, as if to kill him on the spot, you squeezed his forearm lightly.
jisung felt like static electricity was zipping through his body. his skin tingled where you touched him, and he stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge how his breath hitched.
she doesn’t even know what she’s doing, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. so damn oblivious.
when you crossed your legs, jisung’s eyes flickered downward before he could stop himself. he caught the briefest glimpse of skin, the hem of your skirt riding up just enough to reveal more of your thigh, and his face flushed.
stop it, he scolded himself, tearing his gaze away.
but he couldn’t help it. he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop the way his imagination spiraled. he wondered what it would feel like if you touched him for more than a second. if your fingers lingered. if you looked at him the way you looked at your stupid phone.
his hands curled into fists under the desk, nails digging into his palms. he shifted uncomfortably, trying to will his body into behaving, but your proximity was making it impossible to think straight.
when the professor announced that these would be your assigned seats for the semester, jisung nearly groaned out loud. six months. six months of sitting next to you, of your bare legs grazing his, of your infuriatingly sweet perfume clouding his brain.
how am i supposed to survive this?
jisung clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking to the faint sparkle of lotion on your legs again.
she probably doesn’t even know how many guys in this room would kill to sit where i’m sitting right now, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek.
and yet, despite everything, jisung couldn’t help but feel a sick sort of satisfaction at being this close to you. like he was privy to something no one else was.
and as messed up as it was, he liked that you didn’t know. that you had no idea how much space you took up in his mind.
he glanced sideways at you again, the corner of his lip twitching as you absentmindedly adjusted your skirt.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
jisung bought a new pc, but it wouldn’t be delivered until the end of the week due to delays in the post office. he hated waiting. the old one had been perfect for watching your livestreams but now he was stuck with his laptop. the smaller screen didn’t do you justice. everything felt cramped and wrong, your image reduced to something far too small and impersonal. it frustrated him to no end.
so, in his growing desperation, jisung resorted to something he swore he wouldn’t do: borrowing haechan’s pc. at first, he only asked when he knew haechan would be out for hours, spinning some lie about needing to work on assignments that required a better setup for coding. surprisingly, haechan didn’t question him. he barely seemed to care, too busy running off to hang out with you and your group of friends. lately, you all seemed closer than ever, constantly whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.
not that jisung cared, of course.
but ever since you’d started sitting next to him in class, he couldn’t help but notice you even more. the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs every six or seven minutes or tapped your temple when the professor talked about a complicated topic. he hated that he was paying attention to things he usually wouldn’t. it was a complete waste of time.
today, jisung was forcing himself to focus. he had an essay due tomorrow, and he’d been putting it off for way too long, distracted by you (clearly) and everything Collette— streams, photos, even the grainy replays he managed to dig up online. last night was supposed to be productive, but instead, he’d spent hours rewatching one of the camgirl’s older private streams. by the time he passed out, his laptop was dangerously close to falling off his bed, his boxers halfway down his legs, and his dick sore after a night of relentless jerking off.
he made his way to the library, determined to lock himself in one of the private study rooms and finally finish his work. he needed to focus. no distractions, no excuses.
but when he opened the door to the room he’d booked, all of his resolve shattered.
you were there.
your books and laptop scattered across the table, and you were leaning over, reaching for something just out of your grasp. jisung froze in the doorway, his breath catching as his eyes landed on you. or, more specifically, the strip of black lace peeking out from under your skirt.
he knew he should look away. but his body didn’t seem to get the memo. instead, his eyes remained fixed on the sight, his chest tightening as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room.
his fingers twitched at his side, gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white. why are you wearing that? he thought, the question racing through his mind before he could stop it. are you wearing it for someone?
you shifted slightly, turning your head as if you sensed someone behind you, and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.
“uh—sorry,” jisung croaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “i—uh—this is... my room. i mean, the room i booked.”
you turned fully to him, startled at first, but then your expression softened into a smile when you realized it was him.
“oh, jisung!” you said brightly, smoothing down your skirt. “i didn’t realize this room was taken. sorry, i’ve just been so distracted, i guess i wasn’t paying attention.”
he forced himself to meet your eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. you recognized him now. during the first week of the semester, you’d seemed to be trying to place him in your mind, but he figured you finally connected the dots and realized he was haechan’s roommate after all.
“it’s... fine,” he muttered, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. the sound echoed louder than it should have, making him wince. “i didn’t know anyone would be here.”
“well, i can leave if you want,” you offered, gesturing toward your scattered books and notes. “but if you don’t mind sharing, i really need to finish studying for a test tomorrow.”
jisung hesitated, his mind racing. on one hand, the idea of sharing a small, enclosed space with you was borderline terrifying. but on the other hand, the thought of you leaving made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t like to think too hard about.
“no need,” he mumbled, setting his bag down at the far end of the table. “you can stay.”
you beamed at him, and he felt a weird mix of pride and dread settle in his chest.
“thanks! you’re a lifesaver.”
you turned back to your laptop, leaving him to settle into his seat. jisung tried his best to focus on his essay, but his eyes kept drifting to you: the way you twirled your pen between your fingers, the way your lips pursed as you concentrated, the way your skirt kept riding up with every slight movement.
he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his gaze back to his screen. his essay wasn’t going to write itself, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he could escape this.
but as jisung stared blankly at the screen, the words refused to come to him. his mind was too fogged up, the image of your black lace panties flashing at him. he could still feel the phantom heat pooling uncomfortably low in his stomach.
he adjusted his glasses for the tenth time in five minutes, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie sleeve. he needed to concentrate, needed to shove every inappropriate thought out of his head and focus on the stupid essay that was due in less than twelve hours.
but every tap of your pen, every soft sigh as you read your notes pulled his attention like a magnet. he could feel his skin prickling under the weight of his own thoughts, and it was starting to make him nauseous.
you shifted in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and jisung caught a glimpse of your bare thighs again. he wondered how soft they’d feel under his fingers. he clenched his jaw, staring harder at the blinking cursor on his laptop. just focus. just write.
“hey,” you said suddenly, your voice soft but startling in the quiet room. jisung’s head snapped up so fast his glasses slipped down his nose.
“yeah?” he croaked, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. he cleared his throat and tried again. “what’s up?”
you held up a book. “do you know anything about this? it’s for my history class, but i’m kind of lost on what the professor’s looking for.”
jisung blinked at the book, trying to register the title through the haze clouding his brain. the sight of your manicured fingers gripping the edge of the hardcover didn’t help his focus.
“uh… yeah, i think so,” he mumbled, his words fumbling over themselves. “i took that class last semester. what’s the assignment?”
you slid your chair closer to his, flipping the book open to a highlighted section. jisung stiffened as you leaned in, your shoulder brushing against his.
he could smell your perfume better now. it made his head swim, and his palms sweat.
“here,” you said, pointing to a passage. “i’m supposed to write an analysis on this, but honestly, it’s not making any sense to me.”
jisung forced himself to look at the page, his eyes skimming over the text even though he couldn’t process a single word. your proximity was unbearable, and the way you tilted your head to look at him made him hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.
“um,” he started, his voice cracking again. “it’s… about, uh, symbolism, i think. like how they use imagery to—”
his words faltered as your leg shifted, pressing briefly against his under the table.
“oh, i get it now!” you said, your eyes lighting up as you turned back to the book. “thanks, jisung, you’re really helpful.”
he swallowed hard, nodding stiffly as you returned to your side of the table. his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his laptop, trying desperately to block out the lingering warmth of your touch.
as the first hour dragged on, jisung realized he’d barely touched his essay. instead, he found himself cataloging every little thing you did, learning more about your quirks and mannerisms than the topic he was supposed to be researching.
he noticed the way you squinted slightly when reading something closely. do you need glasses? the thought struck him out of nowhere, and the idea of you wearing a pair made his throat tighten and his dick stir to life.
you only seemed to use blue highlighters and matching blue post-it notes. the monochrome dedication was oddly satisfying to watch. jisung noticed you had a habit of twirling the highlighter between your fingers when you were deep in thought, the motion almost hypnotic.
when you weren’t sipping on your drink or snacking on something you’d fidget endlessly, picking up your phone, or tapping your nails on the table in an uneven rhythm. once, you opened an app but closed it just as quickly, as if scolding yourself for getting distracted. jisung smirked at that.
he noticed the way you pouted while typing, your lips forming a subtle, natural curve. every time you got stuck on something, you’d grab a blank page from your notebook and start scribbling aimlessly sometimes doodling stars or flowers in the margins, other times writing the same word over and over like you were trying to etch it into your brain.
you also had a habit of adjusting your necklace every few minutes, fiddling with the pendant as if grounding yourself. jisung wondered if it had some kind of sentimental value.
and then there was the small gasp you let out every time you found a passage you liked, quickly followed by you underlining it with almost comical precision. jisung thought it was cute, though he tried to push that thought away.
by the time the second hour rolled around, he was practically vibrating with tension. not just from the overwhelming presence of you, but from his own failure to accomplish anything.
you sighed softly and closed your laptop, stretching in your seat with a lazy grace that made his stomach flip. the movement caused your shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin and a tiny birthmark just above your hip bone.
jisung’s eyes widened. it was a small, and it was a flushed, pinkish hue, vaguely resembling the shape of a flower petal—or maybe a heart if he squinted.
why does that look so familiar?
he frowned, his brain scrambling to piece together the connection. it snagged at him, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. had he seen it on you before? no, that didn’t make sense.
and then it hit him.
his heart stuttered as he remembered one of the streams he’d watched not long ago… collette’s stream. she’d been wearing lingerie that night, black with sheer panels, and at one point, she’d adjusted the waistband, revealing a glimpse of a tiny birthmark right above the hip.
holy shit.
jisung’s face burned as he realized the truth, his hands clenching into fists under the table. he couldn’t believe it. the girl he’d been obsessing over online, the one he’d jerked off to more times than he could count, was sitting right next to him.
he stumbled out of his seat, movements clumsy and frantic as he fumbled to gather his things. his hands trembled slightly as he zipped his backpack and he mumbled some half-formed excuse about having plans with haechan. the words tumbled out so quickly they were barely coherent. before you could even process what he was saying, let alone respond, he was already at the door, practically tripping over himself in his rush to leave.
“what an odd kid,” you giggled to yourself, shaking your head at his bizarre behavior.
he was strange, sure, but undeniably cute in his awkwardness. you’d always had a soft spot for guys who didn’t know what to do with themselves, and jisung was no exception. there was something endearing about the way he seemed perpetually out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. but beneath the oversized hoodies and baggy sweatpants, you could tell he was hiding something.
he had broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his clothes in a way that made you want to see more, and you still hadn’t forgotten the time he’d stripped off his hoodie on that unbearably hot day. the hem of his shirt had lifted with it, giving you the briefest glimpse of his waist, narrow and impossibly toned. you’d been thinking about that moment more often than you’d like to admit.
sitting next to him in class had only amplified things. you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted toward you every few minutes, his gaze lingering on your legs before he quickly looked away, as if he thought you wouldn’t notice. that’s exactly why you made it a point to only wear skirts to that class; short ones, ones that made it impossible for him not to look. it was a game, one you were starting to enjoy far too much.
you liked his hands too. he had large hands with long, slender fingers that flew clumsily over the keys of his laptop. you caught yourself staring at them during class, imagining how they’d feel against your skin, the way they’d grip your waist or tangle in your hair. you wondered if they were soft or if they’d leave a pleasant roughness behind.
his glasses added to the appeal, big-framed and slightly crooked on his nose. they couldn’t hide his soft, pretty eyes, though, or the moles scattered across his pale skin. every detail about him seemed perfectly crafted to make him irresistible in the most unassuming way.
but then there was the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind, the one you couldn’t seem to shake: was jisung really your top spender? your friends had been so sure, pointing out all the coincidences, and you couldn’t deny that it was starting to feel like too much to ignore.
you smiled to yourself at the thought, unable to help the way your lips curled into something slightly wicked. haechan had mentioned how much time jisung spent in his room, his activities hardly a secret if you listened to the muffled sounds that occasionally slipped through the walls.
the idea made your pulse quicken, a thrill running down your spine as you considered how to take things to the next level. if jisung was your top spender then he was already yours in ways he probably didn’t even realize.
you toyed with the idea of making the first move, testing the waters to see just how far you could push him. he was skittish, easily flustered, and you had no doubt that one well-placed touch or whispered word would send him into a complete meltdown.
you suspected that if you really went for it, jisung might just have a heart attack on the spot. and for some reason, that thought only made you want to do it more.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the next time you met him in class, you decided it was time to confirm once and for all if he was into you. you dressed for the occasion, a skirt that showed just enough leg to make him squirm, paired with a low-cut top and your favorite push-up bra, the one that made your boobs look perfect. you threw on a sweater for good measure, unzipping it casually when you sat next to him, just enough to reveal the curve of your collarbones and the top of your cleavage.
“hey, jisung!” you said, your voice soft and lilting.
he barely looked at you, his lips moving in what you assumed was a greeting, but it was so quiet you couldn’t make out the words. he didn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, and from the way he kept staring at his laptop, you wondered if he’d even noticed the effort you put into your outfit.
you leaned in slightly, catching the faint scent of his detergent mixed with something musky. “sungie?” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.
his jaw clenched at the nickname, and his hands froze over his laptop keys. “hm?” he finally managed, his eyes flickering up to your face for the briefest of moments before darting away again.
“do you want to work on the project together?” you asked, tilting your head innocently.
his brows furrowed as he blinked at you, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and panic. “what… what project?” he stammered, his voice shaky, his breath audibly hitching when his gaze unintentionally dropped to your chest.
“the one he just announced,” you said, nodding toward the screen where the professor had outlined the details of the group assignment.
you watched as his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow, and he peeled his eyes away from you with visible effort. “oh… uh…” he trailed off, biting his lip. the gesture drew your attention to just how plush and soft they looked.
“if you don’t want to, it’s okay,” you said, leaning back slightly, your pout deliberate and perfectly executed. “i just thought since you helped me with my assignment last time, you’d be a good partner.”
he glanced at you again, his gaze lingering this time, as if trying to gauge your expression. your wide, hopeful eyes seemed to make his decision for him. “okay…” he mumbled, the word barely audible.
“really? yay!” you said, your voice bright with excitement as you reached out and wrapped your hands around his arm in a playful squeeze. the movement was quick, but enough for your chest to press lightly against him, the warmth of your body radiating through his hoodie.
jisung stiffened immediately, every nerve in his body firing off alarms. the combination of your softness and the faint scent of vanilla clinging to your skin was almost enough to send him over the edge. he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his composure, but the air felt thick and suffocating, and he was perilously close to letting out a moan that would’ve humiliated him in front of the entire room.
“i promise i won’t be a burden,” you added, flashing him a dazzling smile that showcased your perfectly sized teeth. “i’ll do my part, i swear.”
he nodded mechanically, his brain too messed up with the feel of your body against his and the lingering image of your lips curling into that smile. “y-yeah…” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.
as you turned your attention back to the professor, jisung exhaled slowly, his pulse racing. his hands gripped his laptop so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he realized with growing dread that this partnership might actually kill him.
when class ended, you stayed behind, which was unusual since you were usually one of the first to dart out the door. as jisung zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, he noticed you looking at him expectantly. he panicked. did he have something of yours?
jisung glanced nervously at his belongings, double-checking as if your pencil or notebook might have somehow ended up with him. but you didn’t say anything. the silence stretched awkwardly until you finally stood up.
since the rows were so narrow, your movement brought you close… too close. jisung gulped as you stepped into his space, your perfume wrapping around him. he tightened his grip on his backpack straps.
“do you wanna start working on the project now? i have classes every day, and my evenings are pretty busy, so…” your voice trailed off meaningfully. jisung knew. oh, he knew. your evenings were reserved for livestreams. his evenings were also reserved for your livestreams. obviously, the project couldn’t cut into those sacred hours.
“uh, okay… do you wanna go to the library?” he managed, pushing his glasses up his nose. they kept sliding down because he had to crane his neck to look at you from this close distance.
“sure! next time, we can work at your dorm. i’d offer mine, but we have a strict no-boys policy in the apartment,” you said with a laugh, then added, “though my roommates break that rule all the time.”
“what about you?” the question tumbled out of jisung’s mouth before his brain could intercept it. his eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he asked that
but you didn’t seem fazed. instead, you grinned. “you know, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you teased, throwing in a wink that made his brain implode just a little.
as you spoke, jisung’s gaze flitted over you again—your mannerisms, your voice, that unmistakable charisma. the longer he looked, the more it hit him like a sledgehammer to the face. how had he not recognized you as collette sooner? sure, you wore a mask on the streams, and your hair was styled differently, but it was unmistakable now. you were her. and yet, standing here in front of him, you felt even more unattainable.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
at the library again, you couldn’t find a private room since you hadn’t booked ahead, so you settled for a secluded table tucked into the corner of the study area. it was jisung’s favorite spot on campus, not that he’d ever admit that to you. he didn’t want to look more like a loser than he already did.
you’d tied your hair up in a ponytail, and jisung wished you hadn’t. the simple change opened up your neck and collarbones, exposing more skin for his eyes to betray him over. he swore he could count the faint freckles scattered across your shoulders if he stared long enough. and, god, did he want to.
jisung sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to reset his brain. he needed to focus. if he was going to make it through this study session, he needed to stop thinking about your freckles or how your lip gloss shimmered every time your mouth moved.
focus, jisung. he started mentally listing the least sexy things he could think of: spongebob, frogs, khaki jeans, loud chewing. he even dredged up the memory of his fourth-grade math teacher, a grumpy woman he was convinced secretly hated him. it worked, until he realized you were talking to him, and he’d been staring straight past you like an idiot.
“sorry, what was that?” he blurted, blinking rapidly and focusing in on your glossy lips forming the last word of whatever you’d said.
you tilted your head slightly, your ponytail swaying with the movement. “i said, do you want to split up the research? or do you just want to work on the same section together?”
“uh…” jisung’s brain scrambled for footing, his face heating up again. “splitting it up is fine. yeah. let’s do that.”
you smiled at him, and he swore it felt like the library got ten degrees hotter. “great! i’ll take the first half, and you can take the second?”
“sure,” he mumbled, fumbling to pull out his laptop. as you turned back to your notes, jisung caught himself glancing at your neck and down to your cleavage again. frogs, he thought desperately. frogs. khaki jeans. loud chewing. but none of it helped.
he needed a cold shower. desperately. every time you leaned into him, jisung’s resolve cracked a little more. he was barely hanging on as it was, his left hand glued to his lap, pressing down in a feeble attempt to hide the semi he’d been sporting for the last twenty minutes.
“what do you think of this?” you asked, sliding your laptop toward him. your voice was sweet, your tone light and inviting, but jisung couldn’t focus on anything except how close you were.
“that’s good,” he mumbled quickly, trying to sound casual even though his throat felt like sandpaper.
“really?” you tilted your head, eyeing him skeptically. “you say that about everything i show you.”
“cause you’re really good at this,” he blurted out. he pressed harder on his lap, his fingers twitching in frustration.
you laughed softly, the sound making his heart stutter. then, to his horror, you gave him a slow once-over, your eyes narrowing slightly as you studied him. “you okay? you look tense.”
“yup, all good,” he said too quickly, his voice high-pitched. he glued his eyes to his laptop, pretending to focus on the passage in front of him, though the words blurred together into an unintelligible mess. please stop looking at me, he begged silently. please.
but instead, you cocked your head, resting your chin in your hand. “you know,” you began thoughtfully, “you sound like someone i know.”
jisung froze. fuck.
his mind went blank, panic flooding his system. his ears burned, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. did you figure it out? do you know?
“but it couldn’t possibly be,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you turned back to your notes. “you’re too different.”
he released a shaky breath, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst through his ribs. his lips pressed into a tight line as he risked a glance at you. so you did remember andy. jisung had assumed that with so many followers, even your most loyal supporter might fade into the background of your memory. but the private livestreams, the filthy words jisung had whispered that made you moan harder, all the praises and compliments he showered you with—it seemed those had stuck with you. because you remembered his voice.
“i’m gonna use the restroom really quick,” you said, standing up abruptly.
jisung’s eyes followed you as you walked away, the sway of your hips distracting him momentarily before reality snapped back into focus. as soon as you were out of sight, he groaned, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at his lap and the unmistakable tent that had formed there.
he needed to take care of this. now.
standing up, jisung winced at the sensitivity and began making his way toward the bathroom, his head down in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone. but just as he approached the hallway, he caught the sound of muffled voices. one of them raised, the other low and pleading. his steps faltered when he recognized your voice.
he crept closer and pressed himself against the wall, just barely peeking around the corner. there you were, gesturing wildly, your brows furrowed in anger as you stood toe-to-toe with someone jisung instantly recognized as sungchan, the captain of the basketball team.
“i told you to leave me alone,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “texting me from taro’s phone? really? now you’re dragging other people into this? why can’t you just understand that i want nothing to do with you anymore?”
“y/n, please,” sungchan said, his tone dripping with desperation. “i don’t know what else you want me to do. i’ve apologized a million times, and i’ve cut all communication with her. i haven’t seen her in months.”
he took a step closer, but you shoved him back by the chest.
“you should’ve done that before fucking her, don’t you think?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“hey, it didn’t mean a thing to me, you know that,” sungchan said, his voice softening as he reached for your hip and squeezed. “you’re the only one i want.”
your body stiffened at his touch, and you glared up at him. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he didn’t move, his grip firm.
jisung’s jaw clenched. his fists balled at his sides as his eye twitched. why the hell was this guy touching you when it was clear you didn’t want him to?
“c’mon, baby,” sungchan purred, leaning in dangerously close to your neck. “you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good.”
before jisung could stop himself, he was stepping out from behind the corner. he cleared his throat loudly. the sound startled no one, so he did it again, this time pairing it with a sharp, “hey.”
his voice came out deeper than he expected, reverberating in the narrow hallway.
sungchan’s head snapped up, pulling away from your neck as he turned to look at the interruption. your eyes widened when they landed on jisung, standing there taller than usual, his broad shoulders squared.
“just wanted to check if you were alright,” jisung said, his gaze fixed on you, his voice steady.
sungchan’s expression darkened as his grip on your hip tightened. “and who the hell are you?” he spat, his tone venomous.
jisung didn’t flinch at sungchan’s hostility. his dark eyes flickered to your hip, where sungchan’s hand still rested, and then back to sungchan’s face.
“her partner,” jisung said evenly, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle edge. technically, he wasn’t lying, you were his group partner. “and she doesn’t look too comfortable right now.”
you glanced at jisung, your lips parting in surprise. sungchan let out a dry laugh, his hand finally dropping from your hip as he turned to fully face jisung. he towered over most people, but jisung stood his ground, unbothered by the difference in height.
“you’re her partner?” sungchan sneered, looking jisung up and down with a smirk that screamed condescension. “you don’t seem like her type.”
jisung’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. he looked at you instead, his voice softening slightly. “you sure you’re okay?”
your lips pressed together as you nodded quickly, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “i’m fine, jisung. really.”
but sungchan wasn’t done. “jisung, huh?” he repeated, his smirk widening. “sounds familiar. oh, wait—” he tilted his head, mockingly stroking his chin. “aren’t you that quiet little nobody who’s always hiding in haechan’s shadow?”
jisung didn’t react to the insult, though his nails dug into his palms. “that’s me,” he said with a shrug, his voice still maddeningly steady. “and you’re the guy who can’t take a hint and harasses girls.”
sungchan’s smirk dropped instantly, his expression hardening. “what did you just say?”
“you heard me,” jisung replied, his voice low. he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his confidence only making sungchan’s irritation grow. “she asked you to leave her alone, didn’t she? or was that too complicated for you to understand?”
you blinked at jisung, momentarily stunned at his boldness. sungchan, on the other hand, took a step forward, his fists clenching.
“listen here, you little shi—”
“stop!” your voice cut through the tension. both jisung and sungchan turned to look at you. you stepped between them, your expression firm as you faced sungchan. “i meant what i said, sungchan. this is over. stop calling me, stop texting me, stop showing up where i am. just—stop. i don’t want to see you anymore.”
sungchan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as he stared at you. “fine,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else is gonna treat you like i did.”
jisung couldn’t hold back the quiet scoff that escaped him, and sungchan shot him a glare before storming off down the hallway.
as the echo of sungchan’s footsteps faded, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. you turned to jisung, your expression both grateful and embarrassed.
“thanks,” you said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “you didn’t have to do that.”
jisung shrugged, his face a little pink as he adjusted his glasses again. “it’s no big deal. i just… couldn’t stand there and do nothing.”
“still, i appreciate it. my knight in shining glasses” you gave him a small smile.
jisung’s ears burned at the nickname, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “ha, yeah.”
you laughed lightly “c’mon,” you said, gesturing toward the library’s main area. “let’s continue working”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
you continued having sessions for the project after class, and slowly, jisung started coming out of his shell. he still mumbled and stuttered every now and then, especially when your attention lingered on him for too long, but he was starting to hold actual conversations now. and once he got going, it was hard to stop him. he’d gush about the most random things, like his favorite video game characters or how much he hated remakes of old horror movies. sometimes, he’d pull up conspiracy theory videos about aliens on his phone, his voice picking up speed as he rambled about the possibility of extraterrestrial life.
“i mean, think about it… how could we be the only ones in this massive universe? that’s just statistically improbable,” he’d say, adjusting his glasses as he leaned closer to show you grainy footage of a supposed UFO. you’d nod along, amused by his enthusiasm, even if half of it went over your head.
you also learned jisung had a thing for metal music. he shyly pulled out his phone one day to show you his collection of signed albums from bands you’d never even heard of. “this one’s from when they did a secret show in busan,” he explained, his fingers tracing the signatures like they were sacred artifacts. “and this? their first album. impossible to find in good condition.”
“wow, you’re really into this,” you said, smirking as you scrolled through the pictures. “so... are you in a band or something?”
he flushed immediately, shaking his head. “no, no! i’m not cool enough for that,” he muttered.
you couldn’t help but smile. “i think you’re cool,” you said simply, and his ears turned pink.
but jisung’s curiosity didn’t stop at music or aliens. he was fascinated by the simplest things. one time, you brought a new lip gloss to class—the kind that didn’t smudge or rub off no matter what. jisung had been so impressed that he begged you to show him how it worked.
“wait, so it stays on? like, even if you eat something? how?” he asked, eyes wide as you swiped some on the back of your hand.
“even if i kissed you right now it wouldn’t come off”
“oh… w-what’s in it? do you have the ingredients list?” he stuttered, his hand coming up to his face to hide the blush on his cheeks.
you laughed. “are you serious right now?”
“yes! this is pretty cool,” he said shyly. “i need to know.”
he was, all in all, a total nerd. but you found that endearing. you liked how he could get so passionate about the smallest details, even if he didn’t realize how cute he looked when he did it.
what you wanted to know most, though, was if he was really loaded. after all, someone had to be, to spend eighteen thousand dollars like that. one particular evening, while you were working on the project at a cafe, you decided to subtly bring it up.
“so... you said you tutor a lot of students, right?” you asked, stirring your iced coffee.
jisung nodded, flipping through his notes. “yeah. it’s decent money, especially before exams.”
“and you... do homework for them too?” you added, raising an eyebrow.
he hesitated, looking a little guilty. “only when they pay extra,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “but yeah. it’s not a big deal.”
“huh,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “you must be really good at it to make that much money.”
“i mean, i guess,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “but it’s not that much.”
“you sure about that?” you teased, giving him a knowing look. “because eighteen thousand isn’t exactly chump change.”
his head snapped up, and for a moment, he looked like a scared hamster. “w-what?” he stammered.
“nothing,” you said, smiling innocently.
he went back to his notes, but you didn’t miss the way his hand trembled slightly as he flipped the page. interesting.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the next time jisung almost had a heart attack because of you was after one particularly grueling day of tutoring half of sungchan’s frat. he’d spent hours going over equations with guys who clearly had no interest in learning and had been on edge the whole time, doing his best to avoid running into sungchan himself. all the bravery he’d mustered at the library had definitely worn off.
he finally made it back to his dorm, exhausted and ready to collapse, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, flipping through one of the XXX magazines sitting on his desk. his eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.
you noticed him and laughed at his expression. “one of your roommates let me in,” you said, your voice light and teasing. “i think his name’s jaemin?”
jisung blinked, his brain struggling to process. “uh… yeah, jaemin,” he managed to stammer.
“i came to see haechan, but he wasn’t in,” you explained, crossing your legs in a way jisung was so familiar with now. “so i thought i’d pay my new best friend a visit.”
his stomach did a full somersault as he realized you were talking about him. “oh… uhm, hi” he said weakly, scratching the back of his head as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
“hi,” you echoed with a grin, holding up the magazine. “some interesting reading material you’ve got here.”
“t-that’s not mine,” he blurted out, his face flushing red. “it’s haechan’s. i swear.”
you tilted your head, clearly unconvinced but too amused to care. “no need to be embarrassed,” you said casually, placing the magazine back on his desk. “you’re not the first boy in whose room i’ve found porn.”
jisung’s ears burned, and he had no idea how to respond to that. “right…” he muttered, shifting awkwardly.
“your room’s cleaner than i expected,” you added, glancing around.
“did you think i’d be messy?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“hmm, more like… sloppy,” you said, arching a brow in a way that could only be described as suggestive.
jisung swallowed hard, unsure if you were flirting or just messing with him. either way, his brain was short-circuiting. “oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he intended.
you laughed and leaned back on your hands, watching him with that same playful glint in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m just messing with you.”
he let out a small, nervous chuckle and stepped further into the room, trying to act like your presence wasn’t completely throwing him off. “so, uh… what brings you here?” he asked, carefully setting his backpack down.
“just bored,” you said with a shrug. “and since you’re my new best friend, i figured you’d entertain me.”
he blinked. “entertain?” shit, he almost got hard just hearing that.
“obviously,” you said, grinning. “you’re way more fun than haechan anyway.”
jisung doubted that, but he wasn’t about to argue. instead, he sat down at his desk, desperately trying to ignore how pretty you looked sitting on his bed.
“how about you show me how to play that game you talked about?” you asked, walking over to him and resting your arm on his gaming chair.
jisung blinked up at you, startled. “you wanna learn how to play League of Legends?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
“sure. it sounded fun when you told me about it,” you said with a casual shrug.
“uhm, okay then,” jisung said, his voice a little higher than usual as he leaned to flip the power switch on his PC. then he paused, realizing he didn’t have an extra chair. “wait, let me go borrow haechan’s chair,” he said quickly, jogging out of the room.
when jisung returned, chair in hand, his steps faltered. you were leaning over his desk, your skirt riding up just enough to show him what color were your panties today. his first thought, entirely unhelpful, was how badly he wanted to bend you over that desk. his second thought, unfortunately delayed, was that you had turned on his monitor.
and on the screen, clear as day, was his account page.
“so, it was you,” you said, the tone of your voice laced with triumph.
jisung’s eyes widened, panic flaring to life. “what—what are you talking about?” he stammered, dropping the chair with a clatter.
“andyp4rk02,” you said, your voice lilting with satisfaction as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. “i felt it was you. but i’m glad to have a confirmation now.”
jisung froze, his breath catching in his throat as his brain scrambled for something to say. “i—uh—what—”
“you’re not even gonna try to deny it?” you teased, stepping closer to him, the corner of your mouth quirking up in a smirk. “honestly, i was starting to think i was crazy. but you just confirmed it.”
“i—it’s not—” jisung’s voice cracked as he tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
you tilted your head, watching him struggle with an almost predatory gleam in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m not mad,” you said, your tone softer now, though it didn’t erase the teasing edge. “in fact…” you took another step closer, your voice lowering slightly. “i’m intrigued.”
“huh?” jisung’s voice was barely above a whisper, his throat dry as he tried to process what you were saying.
“the one thing i’m most curious about,” you said, taking a step closer, your tone casual but your gaze sharp, “is how you… a freshman, who doesn’t seem to have a job besides tutoring, managed to splurge thousands of dollars on me?”
jisung swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “i just…” he mumbled, looking away, his ears burning as he avoided your piercing gaze.
“c’mon, don’t be shy.” you leaned in slightly, your smirk widening. “andy would’ve bent me over that desk over there and started spilling every single thing i asked for.”
jisung’s eyes snapped up to your face, wide with shock. how did you know exactly what had flashed through his mind mere seconds ago?
“s-sorry,” jisung stammered, looking like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “this is just… are you really not uncomfortable? with me, i mean?”
“why would i be?” you asked, tilting your head as though the question itself was ridiculous. “i’ve gotten to know you better now. i know you’re not a weirdo or anything.”
jisung blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky wasn’t blue. “but i—i mean, with everything i said to you before… all of that—”
“all of that was online,” you cut him off smoothly, your tone light. “and honestly? i think it’s kinda cute how much you adored me. well, adore me,” you corrected with a sly grin.
jisung’s jaw dropped slightly, his face somehow heating even more. “you… think it’s cute?”
“of course,” you said with a soft shrug, your tone so casual it was almost disarming. “you’ve been sweet this whole time, even when you were trying so hard to hide it. honestly, i’m flattered.”
your lips curled into a teasing smile as you leaned in just slightly. “but now, i want to know—” your voice dipped lower, warm and slow. your eyes locked with his, drawing him in without effort. “how did you manage it? the money, i mean.”
jisung swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggled to form a coherent response. “well… uhm…” he shifted nervously, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “i… saved up a lot of money since i was a kid,” he began, his voice quiet but steady as he forced himself to meet your gaze.
“i made a system,” he continued, his words gaining a bit more confidence as he explained. “i cashed a lot of favors, even in school. i’ve been doing other people’s homework since primary, practically. also…” he hesitated, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before darting back to you. “my dad… he started giving me an allowance every month when i was 14, and i never really used it for anything. so… i’ve just been saving. for a long time.”
you tilted your head slightly, clearly intrigued. “wow,” you murmured, crossing your arms in thought. the movement wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was—but it pushed your cleavage up just enough to make jisung’s brain stutter.
his eyes flickered down for half a second before he froze, his face turning crimson. his chest tightened, his breath shallow, because he was sure that if he so much as brushed against you right now, he’d moan like some desperate, pathetic fool.
“that’s… impressive,” you added, breaking the silence, though your tone had shifted, tinged with something almost playful. “you must’ve been really dedicated to saving all that up.” your words hung in the air, light and teasing, but your gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper.
“y-yeah,” jisung stammered, his hands fidgeting by his sides. “i guess i’ve just… always been good with managing money.”
“clearly,” you said with a grin. you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping just enough to send his heart into overdrive. “it’s kinda sexy, you know.”
jisung’s brain went blank, his entire body tensing as if he couldn’t process what he’d just heard. sexy? he repeated in his mind, struggling not to outwardly combust. his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out, and the only sound was the faint hum of his computer in the background.
“you okay?” you asked, your smile widening as you noticed his wide-eyed expression.
“y-yeah,” he managed to croak out, though his voice cracked slightly.
“relax, jisung,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. his breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but smile at how utterly helpless he looked under your gaze.
“i-i am,” he stammered, but the way he gripped the desk behind him for support said otherwise.
you laughed softly, tilting your head as your hand slid up his arm, fingers ghosting over his bicep before trailing down to rest lightly on his chest. “sure you are,” you murmured, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his ear. “you’ve been nervous since you entered the room.”
“i… i’m not nervous,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
“oh, really?” you teased, letting your hand slip under the hem of his shirt. your fingertips grazed the warm skin of his stomach, and he jolted, sucking in a sharp breath. “but you’re trembling.”
“t-that’s not—” his words were cut off when your other hand came up to brush the hair out of his face, your touch gentle yet firm as you tilted his chin up to meet your eyes.
“you’re so cute,” you whispered, your thumb lightly grazing his jawline. his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly.
“you’ve been so sweet to me, sungie,” you continued, your voice dropping lower. “how could i not want to thank you?”
“t-thank me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
you didn’t answer right away. instead, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth that he let out an involuntary whimper. “mhmm,” you hummed, your lips brushing against his skin as you moved to the other side, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline.
jisung’s breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your hand slid further up his shirt, your nails grazing lightly against his ribs. “is this okay?” you asked softly, your lips hovering near his ear.
“y-yeah,” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.
“good,” you murmured, pressing a kiss just below his ear, then another on the side of his neck. his hands gripped the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles were white, and he let out a shaky breath, his head tilting slightly to give you more access.
you smirked, trailing your lips back up to his cheek, stopping just short of his lips. “you’re so quiet now,” you teased, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his stomach. “no more stuttering?”
“i… i don’t…” jisung panted, his words trailing off as your lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.
“you don’t what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his dazed gaze. his eyes were half-lidded, his face flushed, and his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath.
before he could answer, the sharp buzz of your phone vibrating broke the moment. you blinked, startled, and jisung let out a shaky exhale, his head dropping back against the wall in relief… or frustration.
“hold that thought,” you said, your voice still low as you reached into your pocket. your fingers lingered on his stomach for a moment before you pulled away completely.
jisung watched in a daze as you checked your phone, your lips pressing together. “looks like i’ve got to go,” you said, slipping the device back into your pocket.
“w-what?” he stammered, his voice cracking again as he stared at you in disbelief. “y-you’re leaving?”
“for now,” you said with a wink, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “don’t miss me too much, okay?”
jisung could only nod dumbly, still leaning against the desk like his legs might give out at any moment.
“oh, and jisung?” you added, pausing at the door. he looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours. “you might want to take care of… that.” your gaze flicked downward for just a moment, and his face turned a brilliant shade of red as he scrambled to adjust his shirt.
you laughed, shooting him one last playful smile before disappearing out the door, leaving him flustered, breathless, and utterly unable to think about anything else but how good your lips felt on his skin.
that night, jisung lost count of how many times he jerked off. by the time he was done, he was so spent he didn’t even bother cleaning up properly. he passed out with a mess of cum smeared across his abdomen, his sheets damp and sticking to his skin.
the sound of retching woke him up.
he groaned, squinting as the sunlight poured directly onto his face. blinking sleepily, he turned his head to see haechan standing at the foot of his bed, his face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.
“look at the state of you…” haechan said, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “seriously, dude, your dick’s gonna disintegrate if you keep going like this.”
“get out,” jisung groaned, voice hoarse. he rolled over, pulling the blanket halfway over his head to shield himself from both the sunlight and his roommate’s judgment.
“i would, but i have a message from y/n,”
jisung sat up at the sound of your name. his heart pounding as if he’d been jolted with electricity.
“she said she can’t meet you at the library today…”
jisung froze, the sudden buzz of energy deflating into cold panic. “oh,” he said softly, his voice laced with disappointment.
his mind immediately began spiraling. were you avoiding him? now that you knew he was andy, did you think he was a creep? were you disgusted? did you regret what happened yesterday? every terrible scenario played in his head as he stared blankly ahead, anxiety tightening its grip on his chest.
before he could spiral further, haechan continued, dragging out his words for dramatic effect.
“…she said she wants to meet you somewhere else instead.”
jisung’s head snapped toward him. “what?”
“she said she sent you the address and tried calling, but your phone’s off.”
his eyes darted to the floor where his phone lay facedown. practically leaping out of bed, he stumbled over the blanket, barely managing to stay upright as he grabbed the phone and plugged it into the charger.
“relax, dude. she’s not breaking up with you,” haechan said with a smirk.
“shut up,” jisung muttered, his focus entirely on the phone as it turned back on. when the screen finally lit up, he saw your message waiting for him.
his thumb hovered over it before he opened it. the address you’d sent was for a studio about thirty minutes away from campus. jisung frowned, his mind racing again. why there? what kind of place was it? and more importantly, how was he supposed to get there?
he groaned, already planning how he could convince jeno to lend him his car for the evening. but before he could get too far into his thoughts, he noticed haechan still standing there, arms crossed and a suspicious look on his face.
“what?” jisung asked, narrowing his eyes.
“nothing,” haechan said, but the grin spreading across his face said otherwise. “have fun tonight.”
with a wink, haechan strolled out of the room, leaving jisung standing there, equal parts nervous and excited, as he tried to figure out just what you had planned.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
by the time jisung reached the address you sent, he was soaked through to the bone. his hair sticking to his forehead, dripping rainwater down his face, and his clothes clung to his skin, cold and uncomfortable. jeno had flat-out refused to lend him his car, so jisung had to take the bus. the bus stop was two blocks away, and by the time he’d sprinted there in the pouring rain, his sneakers squelched with every step.
he stood now, breathless and drenched, staring up at the old building in front of him. the windows were grimy, and the exterior had an eerie, almost abandoned feel to it. with a reluctant sigh, he pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the lobby. it was completely quiet. the reception desk was empty, and no one was in sight, so he made his way up the narrow staircase to the third floor.
when he reached the door, his heart was hammering. should he have texted to let you know he was here? was he being too forward? after a beat of hesitation, he knocked, his knuckles tapping softly against the wood.
the door swung open after his third knock.
there you were, looking impossibly beautiful. your pink flowy dress caught the light, the fabric swirling around your legs as you smiled up at him. he’d never seen you wear a dress like that before. your makeup was flawless, more than usual, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat.
"you’re really punctual," you said with a soft smile, stepping aside to let him in.
but jisung didn’t move at first. his eyes scanned the space around him as he took it all in.
“is this…” he breathed in disbelief.
“welcome to collette’s studio.” you patted him lightly on the back, gently pushing him further inside.
“i wanted you to see it,” you continued, walking ahead, your fingers brushing against the smooth white sheets of the bed that dominated the center of the room. you glanced back at him with an expectant look.
jisung felt like he’d been dropped into one of his wet dreams. "i’m…" his words faltered as his senses overloaded, trying to catch up with what was happening.
"in shock?" you giggled softly, the sound light and airy. "you’re the first person i bring here."
"really?" he asked, his backpack slipping off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a soft thud.
“you brought your notes?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.
"yeah…" he stammered, feeling foolish now. "aren’t we gonna finish… the project?"
your gaze locked with his as you moved closer, your presence drawing him in. his eyes flicked nervously to the neon sign hanging on the wall.
"hm, we can… or we could do something more fun?" you suggested, your voice a soft temptation. you stepped closer, until there was barely any space between you two.
jisung tried to keep his composure, but his body betrayed him. every inch of him stiffened as you moved into his personal space.
"i have a proposal for you, sungie," you said, your voice lowering, honeyed and sweet. your hand found its way to the back of his neck, your fingers tracing the skin there lightly, coaxing a soft sigh from his lips.
"y-yeah?" he breathed out, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment at the sensation of your touch.
"would you like to guest on my channel?"
jisung’s eyes snapped open, disbelief painting his expression. “what?… y-you mean… do a livestream with you?”
he could barely comprehend what you were saying, his brain scrambling to process the words. "but you… you never do that… it’s always just collette."
you smiled softly, a glint of something mysterious dancing in your eyes. "you’re right, but for a while, i’ve been thinking of changing that. i just never found anyone i trusted enough for it."
jisung’s mind was racing. he couldn’t believe this was happening. you, asking him? how many times had he imagined being in this room, taking you in that very bed? but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he was frozen. what if he wasn’t enough? what if he couldn’t satisfy you like you wanted?
“it’s okay if you don’t want to… it was pretty sudden of me to ask this,” you said, sensing his hesitation. you slowly withdrew your hand from his neck, leaving him cold and wanting more.
jisung panicked. he didn’t want you to think he was rejecting you, but the fear of embarrassing himself in front of not only you but a whole audience gripped him tight. what if he couldn’t live up to your expectations?
but then again, the thought of you finding someone else to do this with made his stomach twist with anxiety. he couldn’t back down now.
with shaky hands, he finally nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "i’ll do it."
“really?” you asked, your voice tinged with genuine surprise. you hadn’t expected him to agree. jisung didn’t exactly strike you as the type to willingly step into the spotlight, let alone in this particular way. this had every potential to go sideways.
but there he was, standing in front of you, his expression a blend of nervousness and determination. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from bolting.
you extended your hand toward him, watching as his gaze flickered down to it. he hesitated, just for a moment, before his much larger hand engulfed yours. his touch was clammy, his grip tentative, but it was enough.
“have you done this before?” you asked, glancing back at him as you led him toward the bed.
he looked utterly petrified, like a deer caught in headlights, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “a livestream, you mean? uh… yeah, i’ve—uh—seen a few… i mean, no! not seen, done! wait, i mean—”
you chuckled softly, cutting off his flustered rambling. “no, silly. i meant… is this your first time having sex?”
your tone was so casual and devoid of any judgment that it caught him completely off guard. his entire face went up in flames. he nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a tight line.
your smile softened, and you stepped closer, placing your hands lightly on his chest. “then, we should practice before turning the camera on, don’t you think?”
he swallowed hard, his lips parting in a nervous attempt to respond, but no words came out. he simply nodded, his breaths shallow and uneven when you pushed him down onto the bed.
you reached for the straps of your dress and slid them off your shoulders, the fabric slipping down your body and pooling at your feet. jisung’s eyes went wide, his lips slightly parted as he stared at you. his gaze flickered nervously, starting at your feet and slowly working its way up, lingering on the delicate white lace of your underwear. he looked like he was on the verge of tearing up.
you moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. the sudden pressure made him suck in a sharp breath, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.
“tell me what you like,” you murmured, leaning in just enough for your lips to ghost over the shell of his ear.
“w-what do you mean?” his voice cracked, and he looked up at you with wide, panicked eyes. his hands were still frozen in place, unsure of what to do, so you gently took them and placed them on your waist.
“you can touch me,” you said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “when you watch my streams… what do you like?”
his whole body tensed, his fingers spreading hesitantly over your waist. he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to look away. “uhm… i-i don’t know… i… i pretty much like everything,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“do you like when i use the toys?” you asked, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.
“y-yes,” he breathed, the word coming out shaky and unsteady.
“do you like it more when i lay down or when i sit?” you asked, trailing your hands under the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.
his breath hitched as you motioned for him to stand. he obeyed, his movements clumsy as he pulled off his shirt and hesitated with his pants. his hands trembled as he pushed them down, leaving him standing there in just his boxers, his face burning crimson.
“uhm” he started, his voice cracking. he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor before flicking back to you. “when you sit?”
the second the words left his mouth, you pushed him gently, and he stumbled back onto the bed with a gasp. the flush on his cheeks deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears, as he looked up at you with anticipation.
“good,” you murmured, your fingers trailing along his chest. “then let’s see if you like this more.”
the sight of you straddling his lap made jisung’s throat go dry, his mouth parting slightly as his breath quickened. was this really happening? was he actually about to lose his virginity with the girl he had spent countless nights fantasizing about? every inch of him buzzed with nervous energy, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might actually cry—happy tears, of course, but still tears.
before his mind could spiral further, he felt the soft press of your lips against his. the sensation was so unexpected and overwhelming that he whimpered without meaning to. the sound would’ve embarrassed him any other time, but he was too lost in the moment to care. his lips parted instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss.
your fingers threaded into his hair, massaging his scalp, and a low moan escaped him. the warmth of your touch was intoxicating, but then your hips shifted, brushing against the hardness in his boxers, and jisung gasped into your mouth.
“shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky as his hips jerked up in response, pressing himself against your core. the friction drew a needy, broken moan from you that he immediately wished he could record and replay for the rest of his life. his head fell back slightly, breaking the kiss.
“how does that feel?” you murmured, grinding your hips against him again. “hm?”
“g-good… so… go—” his words trailed off, his eyes snapping open as he caught you unclasping your bra. the sight of you now bare from the waist up making him forget how to breathe.
he’d seen you topless before on your livestreams, but this was something else entirely. now, you were right in front of him, real and tangible. your breasts were perfect, even better than his wildest dreams, and his hands twitched on your hips, desperate to touch but unsure if he even had the right to.
“go ahead,” you said softly, as if you’d read his mind.
jisung hesitated, the thought flashing through his mind: am i even worthy of this? but before doubt could take hold, you grabbed his hands, guiding them to your chest.
“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling as they cupped the warm, supple flesh. the softness beneath his palms made his head spin, and he instinctively squeezed, earning a quiet hum of approval from you. “so… perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, shyness seeping into his tone.
you smiled at him and leaned in closer, pushing your chest into his hands. his thumbs grazed over your nipples, and you bit your lip, the simple action making his heart feel like it might pound out of his chest.
“you’re doing so well, sungie,” you praised, your words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. he felt his confidence grow just a little, his hands becoming bolder as he continued to touch you, mesmerized by how soft and warm you were.
“c-can i…?” he trailed off, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.
“go ahead,” you encouraged, and his mouth descended hesitantly, leaving a tentative kiss on the curve of your breast. the feeling was so new that he couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him.
jisung pressed his lips against your skin again, this time lingering a little longer. he felt the soft rise and fall of your chest beneath him, and it was mesmerizing. the warmth, the way you smelled faintly of vanilla, and the soft sighs you let out as he kissed along the curve of your breast—it was too much for him, and not enough all at once.
you tilted your head back slightly, giving him more room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kissed lower. his tongue darted out, shyly tracing your skin, and he heard you hum in approval. the sound sent a jolt straight through him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours, pressing against your core.
“that’s it, sungie,” you murmured, your voice like velvet, guiding him. “you can touch more if you want. i don’t bite”
the teasing lilt in your voice made his entire face flush, but it also spurred him on. he let one hand wander, sliding up your side hesitantly before it cupped your other breast. his touch was still timid, his thumb brushing over your nipple experimentally. when you gasped softly and your hips shifted against his, jisung nearly lost it.
“does that feel good?” he asked, his voice barely audible, shaky and full of nerves.
“mhmm,” you nodded, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “you’re doing so well.”
the praise made him braver, and he leaned back slightly to look at you. your hair was slightly mussed, your lips parted, and your eyes were hooded as you gazed down at him. you looked like a dream, like something he’d only ever dared to imagine in the privacy of his own room.
jisung’s breath came in shallow pants as he watched you. your skin was soft, and your scent filled his senses, making it impossible for him to think about anything else.
“take these off too,” you murmured, your fingers tugging lightly at the waistband of his boxers.
his entire face burned crimson as he nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric and began to slide them down. his heart was pounding so hard he thought it wasn’t normal, but the thought of stopping never even crossed his mind.
you leaned back just enough to give him room, watching as he pushed the boxers down his hips, his movements awkward and nervous. once he kicked them off completely, he sat there, completely bare before you, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he avoided your gaze.
“hey,” you said softly, reaching out to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you. “don’t be shy. you’re perfect, sungie.”
his eyes widened slightly at your words, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
“you’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again. this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, and jisung melted into it, his hands finally moving to rest on your waist.
you shifted in his lap, pressing your core against him, and he gasped into your mouth, his hips jerking up instinctively.
“s-sorry,” he stammered, pulling back slightly, his face a deep shade of red.
“don’t apologize,” you said, brushing your fingers through his hair. “you’re doing so well.”
your praise made his chest swell, and he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies were pressed together.
“touch me more, sungie,” you encouraged, taking his hands and guiding them up your sides, over your ribs, until they were back on your chest.
his fingers trembled as they cupped you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples experimentally. when you let out a soft moan, his confidence grew, and he leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips trailing lower until they found the curve of your breast.
“just like that,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair again as he continued exploring your body.
your hands slid down his back, your nails grazing his skin lightly, and jisung shivered under your touch. his own hands started to roam more boldly, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and finally settling on your ass.
you shifted again, grinding down against him, and he let out a choked moan, his head falling against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.
“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck.
“i… i c-can’t help it,” he stuttered, his voice shaky. “you’re… you’re just…”
you smiled, pressing a finger to his lips to hush him. “it’s okay, sungie. just let me take care of you.”
he nodded, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continued to move against him. every touch, every kiss, every sound you made drove him closer to the edge, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.
you leaned back slightly, reaching between your bodies to tug your panties down, and jisung watched with wide eyes as you discarded them. he couldn’t believe this was happening, like any moment he might wake up in his bed, alone and frustrated.
“are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft as you looked at him.
“y-yeah,” he said quickly, nodding. i just can’t believe this is real, he wanted to say but he was scared he’d sound like a loser.
“wait a second,” you said, sliding off his lap, the sudden loss of your weight making jisung let out a soft, involuntary hiss.
his eyes darted down, and he realized—much to his horror—that his dick was now standing proudly at full attention, no longer constrained by his boxers. in his mind, it was almost mocking him, like it was giving him a thumbs-up for finally letting his hand rest after all those nights of longing for you. jisung felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him, and his first instinct was to grab a blanket or pillow to cover himself.
just as he was about to reach for one, his attention was drawn to you. you were bent over by your bedside drawer, rummaging through it with an air of purpose. then, you pulled something out, holding it up for him to see… a shiny silver wrapper.
a condom.
jisung felt like his heart stopped beating for a second as he stared at the little package in your hands. something about seeing it made everything feel impossibly, undeniably real.
“ultrathin… so you can feel everything,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as you turned back toward him.
goodness, she’s gonna kill me. jisung thought, swallowing hard as he swore his dick twitched at your words.
“you’re quite big, sungie…” you mused, crawling back onto the bed with a grace that made his breath hitch. you moved toward him slowly, your eyes dark with intent. the way you approached him reminded him of a lioness stalking her prey.
“let’s see if it fits,” you added, a playful smile on your lips as you straddled his thighs.
jisung was completely frozen, his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched you unwrapping the condom with practiced ease. your hands moved so skillfully, the shiny material glinting faintly in the light. then you paused, looking up at him with a question in your eyes.
“may i?” you asked softly, your voice almost sweet, though your expression held that same predatory confidence.
“y-yeah,” he stammered, the word barely audible as he nodded frantically. in his mind, he was screaming, please, yes, god, yes.
the corner of your mouth quirked up as you leaned forward. your fingers were gentle but firm as you grasped his dick, and jisung couldn’t stop the shuddering gasp that escaped his lips. you slid the condom over him with ease, the mix of precum and the lubricant on the condom making it glide smoothly down his shaft.
it fit perfectly.
“fits you like a glove,” you murmured, your tone teasing as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.
jisung didn’t know what to do. his hands twitched at his sides, his mouth slightly open as he tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.
then, without warning, you slid up his body, settling back onto his lap. the sudden pressure against his dick made him let out a low, shaky moan.
“ready?” you asked, your voice softer now, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned forward.
jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes meeting yours. “y-yeah,” he croaked, his voice cracking slightly.
you lifted yourself slightly, aligning him with your entrance. jisung was trembling under you, his hands gripping the sheets as if holding on for dear life.
"breathe, sungie," you whispered, stroking his chest gently. his wide, panicked eyes met yours, and you smiled softly to reassure him.
he nodded quickly, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. when he exhaled, you sank down just a little, the tip of him slipping inside. his whole body jerked in response, a desperate, broken moan escaping his lips.
“fuck…” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow. his grip on the sheets tightened, his knuckles turning white. the heat, the wetness, the feeling of you was unlike anything he’d ever imagined.
“good?” you asked, tilting your head as you hovered above him, testing his reaction.
“s-so good,” jisung gasped, his voice trembling. “so… tight… warm…”
you couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, but you didn’t tease him. instead, you lowered yourself further, slowly taking him inch by inch. jisung’s breathing grew heavier with every movement, his hips twitching upward involuntarily as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation.
"easy," you murmured, pressing a hand against his chest to still him. "let me take care of you."
jisung nodded dumbly, biting his lip as he tried to stay still. his eyes were fixed on you, watching every little movement you made in adoration.
when you finally took all of him, you let out a soft sigh of relief, adjusting to the stretch. jisung, on the other hand, looked like he was seconds away from imploding.
"you're... you're perfect," he blurted out, his voice breaking with emotion.
you laughed softly, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re pretty perfect yourself, sungie.”
you gave him a moment to catch his breath, your hands gently running up and down his sides to calm him. when you started to move, lifting yourself slowly and sinking back down, his head shot up from the pillow.
“oh my god—” jisung groaned, his hands flying to your hips instinctively. “oh my god, oh my god…”
his grip was unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to hold on tighter or let go. his hips bucked slightly beneath you, and you gasped at the unexpected movement.
"you're doing so well," you encouraged him, your voice breathy but soothing. you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth before nipping at his jaw.
jisung whimpered at the praise, his hands sliding up your sides as he tried to ground himself. his lips found yours again, and this time, he kissed you with a bit more confidence, his tongue shyly seeking yours.
you rolled your hips against him, drawing a strangled moan from deep in his chest. his reactions were so genuine, so raw. it made your heart race just as much as his.
“faster,” he whispered against your lips, surprising both you and himself. his cheeks flushed red immediately after the word left his mouth.
you smiled, pressing your forehead against his as you obliged, picking up the pace. his grip on your hips tightened as he tried to meet your movements, his breaths coming faster and more uneven.
“you’re close, aren’t you?” you asked softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face.
jisung nodded rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body tensed beneath you. “i—i can’t… i can’t hold it,” he stammered, his voice breaking with desperation.
“it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “let go for me, sungie.”
the permission was all he needed. with a choked cry, jisung’s hips jerked upward, and he came harder than he ever thought possible. his whole body trembled as he gripped you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure.
you held him through it, running your fingers through his hair and whispering soft words of encouragement. when his breathing finally started to slow, you leaned back slightly to look at him.
his face was flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyes glazed over as he tried to process what just happened.
“you okay?” you asked, stroking his cheek gently.
jisung blinked up at you, a dazed but blissful smile spreading across his face. “y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “that was… amazing.”
you laughed softly, leaning down to kiss him again. “you did so well, sungie.”
he blushed at the praise, his hands resting on your thighs as he tried to steady himself. “thank you,” he mumbled shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“don’t thank me yet,” you teased. “we’re just getting started.”
the next day...
“sungie,” you said, your voice soft and slightly breathless. you were sprawled out on your couch, your notes and research scattered across the coffee table, all but forgotten.
“last night’s livestream got the most views i’ve had in months,” you murmured, looking down at him. “they must like you.”
jisung looked up from between your legs, his glasses fogged and slightly crooked on his face. his lips were swollen and glistening with your arousal, his cheeks flushed a deep red.
“really?” he asked, only half-interested. but before you could respond, he dove back down, his eager mouth finding your folds once again.
a sharp gasp left your lips as his tongue traced over you. this was already the second time today he’d eaten you out, and he’d only gotten better since his first attempt this morning.
earlier, you’d guided him through it, patiently showing him what felt good, what didn’t, and how to read the reactions of your body.
jisung’s long tongue worked wonders, licking and teasing in ways that had you gripping the cushions for dear life. when he sucked gently on your clit and flicked his tongue over it in quick succession, your thighs quivered against his head. he took note of the way your hips bucked involuntarily, doubling down on the action and making you cry out.
“you’re such a quick learner,” you panted, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly to spur him on.
he hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. the sound was almost self-satisfied, as though he was proud of the way he had you unraveling beneath him.
the combination of his inexperience and raw enthusiasm was intoxicating. jisung wasn’t just doing this to please you. he genuinely wanted to understand every inch of you, to learn what made you tick and what brought you to the edge.
and he was succeeding.
your thighs clenched around his head, your body arching off the couch as he alternated between languid strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against your most sensitive spot. “s-sungie, oh my god,” you whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening.
he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his glasses messier than ever. “does that mean i’m doing good?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled, and for a second, his shy, eager-to-please demeanor broke through.
you let out a breathless laugh, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately. “you’re doing amazing, baby.”
his lips quirked into a bashful smile before he returned his attention to your core, determined to coax another round of trembling moans from your lips.
jisung park, you thought as you teetered on the edge of bliss, was quickly becoming an overachiever in the best way possible.
a/n: my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic! thank you for reading <3
More Posts from Seoksoop and Others
I love angsty fics, I really do.
But not "my dog died" or "I feel insecure" kinda angst. I'm talking about the cheating, the break up, the suffering, the tears, the begging, the pining, the stalking, the obsession UGHHHH, love me a fic where he fucked up and now has to do the most to get her back, it gives me a serotonin boost
彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan
part 1 ๑ part 2 ๑ part 3
notes ๑ daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day?
genre ๑ fluff, new interest.
warnings ๑ none
word count ๑ 1k
from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3
it was a hectic but fun shift at your daycare job. the kids love you and you equally got along with them. your coworkers reasoned that it was because of your youthfulness that made working with them a breeze and you couldn’t disagree.
there was just 5 kids left and it was nearing the hour that would mean you’re working overtime but you didn’t mind.
the kids played with the toys around the room but you had just tidied up the place so they made sure to not make too much of a mess.
just as you were about to settle down on the floor, the doorbell rang signalling a parent was there. you instantly got up and chuckled at the way you didn’t even get to touch the floor.
you took a look to the glass entrance door to see who was there and usually you’d be able to recognise the parent/guardian but you have never seen this person ever. you looked over the kids in the room and back to the door. “i’ll be back okay, stay here,” you instructed to the kids who gave a sweet nod.
at the entrance stood a tall, lanky man. you couldn’t tell what his age could be but if you had to guess, he was probably your age or a bit older. he had hair that framed his face well and he was definitely someone that could brag about his looks. his appearance made your heart flutter.
often when you couldn’t recognise someone, you’d fear that this was a complete stranger, could be be those kidnappers but you didn’t get those vibes from him. or was it the pretty privilege?
you pressed the button which unlocked the door and he stepped in, “hi, i’m here for choi yuna,” he kindly spoke and shot a smile that could kill.
despite the looks that could sway you, you were hesitant. yuna was choi seungcheol’s daughter. you knew seungcheol was a busy man. he ran a big company but he never failed to pick up his daughter. plus he dropped her off in the morning and didn’t mention someone else would be picking her up which made this suspicious.
“im sorry, i need to know if you’re allowed to pick her up, how do you know her?”
“sorry! forgot to introduce myself, i’m yoon jeonghan, seungcheol’s secretary, he would've came but his meeting ran long so he sent me to pick yuna up.”
you were still unsure, you weren’t gonna take any chances for a case to happen, “can i make a call to seungcheol first?”
jeonghan let out a husky laugh, “you’re careful huh? what if i just showed you a picture of me and him together?"
“that won’t be enough.”
“alright but if you’re gonna call him, he’s could still be in his meeting i think your call will just be transferred.”
you already had your eyes on your phone but gave him a look as he said that. you still made the call and it instantly connected. “yn? is everything okay?“ the man on the other line opened with concern in his voice.
“hi mr.choi! yea, i just wanted to confirm that you sent someone else to pick up yuna?”
“ah- yes, im so sorry i just got out my meeting if i was the one to come yuna would still be there so i sent jeonghan. don’t worry, he’s a trusted friend! sorry for not letting you know.”
“no worries, just wanted to make sure,” you quietly sighed with relief. you said goodbye and ended the call. you stared at your screen and there was a loud silence for like 2 seconds until you closed your phone and lowered your head to the secretary, “sorry for making a hassle.”
he gave a sympathetic smile and waved his hands, pushing you back up, “no, don’t be! you’re just doing your job, it’s good your keeping these children as safe as you can. i’m glad you’re being this careful, if anything, if you weren’t so cautious i probably would’ve told seungcheol to find a new daycare.”
he was surprisingly nice.
“thanks,” you couldn’t hold back your grin. “um, i’m going to go get yuna.”
he nodded and you walked to the fence which led to the section of the room to the kids were in. jeonghan peered over and his eyebrows instantly rose. he didn’t know there were still children there. he got shocked that the kids weren’t checking if their parents were there. they were just sitting in a circle, playing and sharing the toys. usually they would be hoping the parents are here right? why weren’t they checking?
but jeonghan saw the way their face lit as you walked towards them. perhaps the environment was that good he thought to himself.
you held yuna’s hand and walked to the exit.
“i don’t want to go yet yn!” yuna clamoured. you softly laughed, “you’ll come back tomorrow.”
jeonghan silently watched you in confusion. were you an angel or something? kids love it when their parents are here, if anything, they cry at the absence of their parents right? yet someone like yuna who’s close their parents is clinging onto you.
“yuna!” jeonghan called out.
“uncle?” yuna beamed and ran to the older man, her height allowing her to only hug his legs.
jeonghan bent down and patted her head, “dad can’t make it so i’m here but we’ll see him in a bit okay?”
yuna nodded signing she understood. “did you bring your bicycle?” she asked with wonder in her eyes.
“bicycle?” jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows.
“the one you always come to my house with!” yuna hinted.
the man was left puzzled but also mildly embarrassed at the possibility that you’s think he uses a bicycle to get to places, “yuna, what bicycle?”
“the loud bicycle!”
“a motorcycle?” you chipped in.
“ahh—,” he did have a motorcycle. he was stunned and wondered what you thought of him— but actually, why does he care what you think.
jeonghan recollected himself, “your dad wouldn’t let me but hey, the car waiting for us outside has a tv!”
yuna was notably convinced the car was better especially with the way she hopped and cheered. you giggled at the way he changed her opinion so easily.
jeonghan stood up and held yuna’s belongings, “guess we’re good to go, say thank you to yn yuna.”yuna jumped to give you a hug and jeonghan waved a goodbye. soon, the two walked out.
you closed the door and deeply exhaled. you placed your hand over your chest yet your heartbeat couldn’t slow down. there was something about that man.
jeonghan looked back at the daycare’s door. he thought of the way his heart beated twice more than usual since he walked through that door.
was it you or the 5 sugars he put in his coffee that afternoon?
he shook his head and laughed after recalling the measures you went through to make sure he wasn’t a kidnapper or something.
“do you like yn yuna?” jeonghan turned to her. “why?” yuna dragged her words at the end. jeonghan inhaled stiffly forgetting about how yuna was in her ‘why’ phase. “just asking, so do you enjoy yn’s company?”
“of course! they're really nice! they always play with me and one time they bought me stickers!" jeoghan knew which stickers yuna was talking about. it was pasted somewhere in seungcheol's office and jeonghan made fun of him for it. his heart warmed at the way you seemed to be a genuinely good person. he’s known you for a few seconds but though your actions first impression, he could tell you were someone worth meeting and he liked people like that.
he really couldn't tell why but for some reason, he wanted to be the one to pick up yuna tomorrow.
luckily for him, he’s the secretary and he can manipulate his boss’s’ schedule however he’d like to.
Enemy ‖ eight
Taehyung rethinks his actions while you have a hard time dealing with them.
⤑ word count: 9.2k ⤑ pairing: taehyung x reader ⤑ genre: smut, friends with benefits, non-idol!au, fuckboy!taehyung ⤑ warnings: 18+ minors dni! discussions about sexual acts ⤑ prev. chapter ‖ next chapter ‖ series masterpost ‖ updates ⤑ read on AO3
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Taehyung ran up the stairs and barged into the room as fast as he could, sweat washing over him as he thought about all the things that could have gone wrong in the meantime. A sigh of relief left his mouth when he realized that your clothes were still there and that no freaks had entered the room in the meantime. Well, except him, but he was the type of freak you were okay with. Maybe not anymore, but that was yet to be determined at that point.
“It’s me!” Taehyung shouted loud enough for you to hear him since it was obvious you were still in the bathroom. “I’ll watch the door.”
You didn’t say anything back, but Taehyung heard you turning on the water. As he sat on the bed and listened to you shower, he realized that Yoongi was right: he was a total asshole who was so full of himself and this idea that he was so much better than everyone out there who let themselves care about others.
“But why do I care?” Taehyung shrugged. “You don’t stay around after a hookup, right?”
Yoongi’s eyes turned into slits as he gave his friend a glare that gave off exactly what he was feeling. “You care, Taehyung, whether you like it or not. You want a deal with this girl because you don’t want her to be with other people. You’re mad at Hoseok for interfering, which is totally fine if you want her for yourself, and you’re mad at yourself for being unable to admit it,” Yoongi explained while shaking his head at Taehyung, acting like he was disgusted with what he’d just heard. “All this time, I’ve been trying to get you to realize it, but you have to fight me every step of the way.”
“I’ve never said that,” Taehyung was quick to respond, refusing to admit to something that could have easily been true. Yoongi knew him well, and there were a lot of things to unpack in what he’d just said.
“Oh, really? You didn’t tell me you two were exclusively fucking each other?”
Ah, Yoongi slipped up. Taehyung saw a chance and took it. “Fucking and dating aren’t the same thing.”
“Yeah, I get that, trust me. But when was the last time you took a girl out for breakfast after having sex with her? Never. The last time you let someone spend the night at yours? Never. You spending a night and the morning with a girl? Unheard of,” Yoongi said in a spiteful tone, stopping just to raise his eyebrows at his friend. “But here you are, breaking all your stupid rules for this super sweet girl who seems to be able to look past all the nastiness you exude and likes you for who you are. And then, to get back at me and prove me wrong, you treat her like she’s cheap and replaceable when we both know she isn’t. Otherwise, you would have already replaced her a long time ago.”
“Maybe.” Taehyung shrugged, wondering why he felt terrible all of a sudden. “She’s a nice girl. But our deal is about sex.”
“You don’t know how to treat someone you like with respect. You really think a woman who cares enough about you to let you fuck her over and over again will be okay with you doing that to her and then walking out. How are you this emotionally stunted, man? Who hurt you?” Yoongi placed his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and patted it. “I’m telling you, if you don’t go upstairs and talk to this girl, your deal is off for good. But, I think that’s better for her unless you do something about the way you’re acting.”
Taehyung huffed at his friend. Wasn’t he already making a fool out of himself by treating you a lot better than anyone else? “I don’t know what else to do other than treat her like I’ve been treating her.”
“Really?” Yoongi leaned in, an inch away from his face, and grimaced. “You don’t know how else to treat her!? You can’t wait for her to shower, hug her, kiss her, hold her hand, take her out for burgers again, or just walk her home? You don’t know how to do that, right. All you know is how to fuck because you’re an irresistible guy, and the rest of us are losers for caring about people.”
“I never said that.”
“Well, you meant it, and it’s coming to bite you in the ass. Know why? Because now you don’t even know how to explain to yourself why you’re feeling like shit, and I can tell that you are because you haven’t had one comeback to all of this and you’ve dropped the snarky facade, which only happens once in a blue moon. Go up there and grovel, man, and tell her you actually like her...”
Not long after, right when he was in the middle of replaying the conversation with his friend, you walked out of the bathroom. You weren’t naked, as Taehyung expected. Instead, you wrapped the towel around you and walked out to get your clothes, which he had already collected and placed on the bed for you. It was the least he could do.
“Hey,” you said and grabbed the clothes, walking back into the bathroom to get dressed. You denied Taehyung the chance to see you naked again, which wasn’t something he was used to from you. Clearly, he fucked up, like Yoongi suggested. Everything about the exchange felt cold, which was crazy considering how close you were just earlier.
A while later, you walked out of the bathroom completely dressed, and Taehyung realized that most of your make up was gone. Earlier, you had eyeliner and mascara on, he was pretty certain. Now, it seemed like the liner was gone and there were some remnants of mascara, but nothing too noticeable. Why did you already remove it? Unless…
“What’s wrong?” Taehyung decided to be the first one to speak, realizing you two just had to have a conversation about your thing, whatever it was. It was either that or not speaking again—it was obvious from the way you seemed to be shying away from him. Not letting him watch you get dressed, not looking him in the eye, not talking… The signs were there. Taehyung was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid.
“I’m just tired,” you lied, eyes focused on the door as if you were just dying to get the hell out of there. Yet, you didn’t move from your place.
“Are you sure?” Taehyung gave you another chance to be honest with him. That was your deal, right? All you wanted was honesty.
“Yes,” you responded curtly, not even looking at him.
Taehyung didn’t know what to say to that. To him, it was very obvious you were upset and didn’t want anything to do with him. It was also obvious he wanted to talk it out, yet you didn’t want to give him a chance. He asked you, twice now, and you pretended everything was fine.
“Why are you back?” you asked, breaking the silence, and Taehyung left a sigh of relief. Finally, something.
“I shouldn’t have left in the first place.” That was honest, completely. He shouldn’t have gone out and left you here alone.
“Ok…” You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest and tonguing the inside of your cheek, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else.
“I hate this,” Taehyung grunted and sat down on the bed, shaking his head. He did hate it, all of it. That was exactly why he never got involved with people—it all got too complicated. “Can we just talk?”
“Hate what?” The spite in your voice didn’t go over Taehyung’s head. You clearly decided you weren’t going to help him out at all here, and he kind of had it coming. The night was going great until he got scared of Yoongi being fucking right.
“You looking at me like that, us being this weird…” Taehyung explained, hoping you’ll understand without him going into detail. “We’re always honest with each other, right? And you don’t seem honest now.”
“You mean honest like you were when you told me you just wanted to go home earlier?” You did it again, smacked him in the face with his words, made him feel like a fool for even bringing something up. “Because you’re still here. How was that honest, then?”
“Oh… I… I’m an idiot,” Taehyung nodded and looked at you, not even trying to come up with an excuse. He was a total jerk, yes, and he had to admit it to you if he wanted you to forget this ever happened. The room suddenly felt so small and stuffy, like it was suffocating him.
“Well, that’s a good start.” You sighed and looked away again, letting your eyes wander all over the room, but never looking directly at him. It made him feel small, Taehyung realized, you not even wanting to look him in the eye. Did he really fuck up that much? It wasn’t even that serious.
“I know, I fucked up. But I came back,” he pointed out, hoping that would get him some points at least. It was more than he would have done for anyone else, and that had to count for something.
“It doesn’t really undo anything, does it?” You spread your arms, getting visibly more frustrated with Taehyung by the second, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He wasn’t good at arguing with people, especially not when they were upset, maybe even hurt. That was the worst thing about it for him—seeing you almost in pain because of something so stupid and pointless he did.
“It doesn’t,” his voice almost failed him, so Taehyung swallowed the lump in his throat and decided to be as honest as he could. “All this Hoseok stuff really fucked with me.”
“Why?” You grimaced and finally decided to look at him, even if only for a second. “It’s between me and him and it’s stupid. I didn’t want you to get involved. In fact, I specifically asked you not to because it’s something I can handle. You picked a fight with him on your own.”
That was true, you were right. You never asked him to talk to Hoseok, threaten him, or stand up for you—that was all Taehyung’s doing. Why he did that was still a bit unclear to him, but he felt a need to. He couldn’t just let your ex whatever-he-was say those things about you and get away with them, it felt unfair. But, everything that happened after the fight Taehyung picked with the guy was on him. It was just because Hoseok found a way to get under his skin, and it had nothing to do with you.
He cleared his throat and spoke, “I know, but I didn’t want him to tell you these things because they’re not true and he’s just bitter.”
“You don’t have to look out for me. I know Hoseok and I know how to talk to him,” you spat the words at Taehyung, reminding him once again that you and Hoseok had a different type of connection, one that you could never have with a guy like Taehyung. It was his own fault. After all, Hoseok may have called you a slut in anger, but he’d never walk out on you like Taehyung had.
Since he didn’t say anything to that, you went on. “So Hoseok’s the reason you did that and then just left and made me feel like the dirtiest whore out there? Yeah, let’s blame Hoseok!”
“I…” What was he supposed to say? It was so much more complex than that. It wasn’t Hoseok and the things he said about you, it was all of it together—you two being close, you three fucking, Hoseok wanting you, Taehyung being unable to be a normal person, Yoongi telling him exactly that. It was all too much. Shit like that never happened to Taehyung, and you didn’t seem to understand that. None of it was like him, and it just confused him.
Taehyung quickly got up and took a step towards you, reaching out to grab hold of you. However, he quickly gave up on the idea and pulled his hands back because he realized it wasn’t what you wanted. The last thing you needed was him touching you after what he’d done. He fucked up, big time. “No. It’s all of this.” His voice came out a lot weaker than he intended it to, but he couldn’t help it. It was difficult to admit.
“What? The deal? You can’t do it?” you asked before chuckling, but it wasn’t a happy kind of chuckle. No, it was more of an I-hate-your-guts kind of chuckle, one that Taehyung was used to by now, just not from you. “If it’s that, just tell me. I won’t get hurt. I’ll get hurt if you treat me like shit, though.”
“No, no. It’s not that, I can do it. The deal works as it is,” Taehyung nodded as he spoke, hoping you’d understand that he really wasn’t tempted to fuck other women. Yeah, he could do it, but would it feel as gratifying as fucking you did? Probably not. So, why take the risk and lose a pretty good thing?
Yeah, that was exactly what you two had—a good fucking thing, even if a bit messy and fucked up and not what other people would go for. Did other people even matter? Taehyung sighed when he thought that mostly because he had let other people get inside of his head.
You scoffed and shook your head, your lips trembling—with anger or hurt, he couldn’t really tell. “Then what is it? I just don’t get you.” You looked at him like he was an asshole, and he deserved it. “Like… Why? Why all of this? You say you want it, then you don’t. You fight Hoseok, then you can’t do it.”
Taehyung gulped but couldn’t get himself to say a word. The truth was, he was having a hard time explaining it to himself, deciphering all the things he was feeling, all the things he said and heard, and putting them all into words that made some sense. He needed time to process it, he’d needed it for a while now, but it was easier to bury his head in the sand and hope for the best.
You, however, didn’t seem to have time to wait for him to make his mind up, and he couldn’t blame you—you have every right to be pissed off. “Ha, so much for being honest!”
“No, listen—” Taehyung sighed and realized it was now or never. Maybe you’d get it. “My friend has just been getting inside my head lately with all this talk about me having this deal with you because I never do this. And he’s been trying to convince me that I care about you, you know, like I want to be with you and I am jealous of Hoseok and all that, and it just got to me,” he spoke without pausing, watching your eyes widen as you listened, hearing his own voice falter, become weak. “He said I give you special treatment, that I don’t treat you like I treat everyone else, and that it’s obvious why. So I, being the asshole that I am, realized he was right and that I give you special treatment, so I treated you like everyone else.”
Then, Taehyung realized that your eyes were welling up with tears and that you decided to rub them before they fell in front of him. You were too proud to let him see you cry because of him, but that didn’t make him feel any better. Of course, he didn’t want to see you cry, but not because it would be uncomfortable—it was because Taehyung would know he was to blame for it, and that’s something that would have made him feel bad. No matter what kind of a guy he was, he really didn’t get off on making people cry, especially people who have always been nice to him like you have.
“It’s stupid, I know,” he went on, feeling the need to keep talking, unable to bear the silence and the sight of you almost crying because of something really idiotic and meaningless he did. “I really fucked up and I do feel bad about making you feel… Bad.”
“Taehyung, I don’t need or want you to care about me that way. You made it clear that you don’t and that you never will,” you said, your voice shaking. “But I do expect you to care for me as a person. Fuck buddies should be on friendly terms, right? I’m sure you wouldn’t treat a friend this way.”
He reached out to touch you, but you moved away, denying him the comfort of your touch. “Please, don’t, not now.”
“It won’t happen again,” Taehyung said, sighing. He was defeated, completely. You’d never moved away from him like that, never turned him down so easily, never spoke to him in that tone. “I promise.”
“I don’t know if I can believe that,” you said with a shrug, looking very hurt. “How can I be sure you won’t kick me out of your car the next time we fuck there? Or throw me out of your apartment when we’re done? God forbid your friend thinks you like me.”
Taehyung groaned at himself, sighing deeply before he said something he would regret. He just wanted to swear at himself and his stupidity for getting himself in this situation. Of course he fucking liked you—you two have been fucking for a while now, you got along well, and he had the best time when he was with you. What was so wrong about admitting that? Why did he even get upset over his friend insinuating that? “You know me, and I wouldn’t do that,” he tried to sound reassuring when he told you that, but the frown on your face told Taehyung you just didn’t buy it.
“Well, I thought you wouldn’t literally piss on me and then leave me naked in someone else’s bathroom, but I was fucking wrong, wasn’t I?” The tone of voice you used was enough to make him feel dumb. But, it was the way you looked at Taehyung that completely ruined him. Your eyes were narrowed into slits as you glared at him angrily, with disgust on your face, hurt written all over it.
At that moment, he felt like the worst person alive. He was a selfish, horny idiot. That was all there was to it. What you said sounded terrible because it really was terrible. There was no explanation that could make it sound acceptable, no way to make it seem better. Who the fuck did things like that, honestly? The alcohol Taehyung drank evaporated from his system in the meantime, leaving him sober and embarrassed by his earlier actions.
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung told you, unable to come up with anything that described what he was feeling any better. “It was a mistake. I just… I felt bad about seeing you like that.” That was the truth. It wasn’t his feelings, it wasn’t Hoseok or Yoongi—it was Taehyung and him doing this to you that made him walk away and pretend it never happened. He didn’t walk away because he regretted being with you, having the deal with you, or anything like that. He just couldn’t handle what he’d done.
His statement confused you. You frowned and asked, “Like what?”
“I mean, I shouldn’t have tried to treat you like I treat other girls I don’t even remember,” he explained with a sigh. That was it. Seeing you like that made him feel bad because you meant more than just stupid fun at the end of a night, more than a person he can try out a kink with and move on like he didn’t know them. You didn’t deserve to be with a guy like him, who’d do that to you. “It’s a shitty thing to do, even for me, but I hope you’ll be able to… Forgive this.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” you said and tried to walk past him, but Taehyung placed his hand in front of you, making you run into it and stopping you from leaving. His hand slid down your side and wrapped around your waist, pulling your side into his stomach, but you still stared right ahead, refusing to look to the side and face him. You were too proud to give him a chance, as you should have been. Taehyung knew he fucked up.
“Let’s not do this,” you muttered the words under your breath, jaw clenched, eyes watering. Even though you seemed to be pissed off with him, you weren’t trying to break free from his touch, and that gave Taehyung some hope.
“Please don’t leave yet,” Taehyung leaned in and rested his forehead against the side of your head, taking a deep breath. You smelled divine, as always. Familiar, even. He was used to you. “Let’s talk this out.”
“Taehyung,” you said with a sigh, still refusing to look at him. “I want to leave because I don’t know what else to tell you. I feel terrible, I really want to get home, take a long shower in my own bathroom so I stop feeling so fucking dirty and gross, and I want to forget this ever happened. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”
With a gentle squeeze to your side, Taehyung exhaled softly. “You can trust me.” His words sounded so cheap now, after everything he’d done to you.
“How do I know that? I feel scared of the next thing you’re going to try to convince yourself we’re just strangers who fuck,” you admitted, voice practically cracking by the end of the sentence, and your doubt upset him.
He wasn’t angry, just disappointed with himself. Because of the way he had acted, you no longer trusted him, and that was the one thing that was great about you two. Honesty, trust, having fun… It was possible because you could be real with each other, and Taehyung and his dick ruined that.
“I won’t,” was all he could tell you, but he meant it. He’d never do something as stupid as that again if you gave him a chance.
“Again, how do I know that?” you spat the words at him before grabbing his hand, prying it away from your body, and pushing it away from your waist in anger. Taehyung felt like you were about to really walk away for good and that he’d never get to even talk to you again, which was something he would hate to see happen. When would he ever meet someone that made him want to give this a go? He’d never met someone like that before you.
So, instead of completely ruining the whole thing, Taehyung wrapped both arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. Surprisingly, you didn’t struggle, but you definitely weren’t about to hug him back. Despite your initial protest, you relaxed in his arms and let him hug you, sighing deeply. Not knowing what else to do, Taehyung leaned in, resting his chin on your head. “Because I do fucking care for you, somehow. I don’t know what to do about it.”
It was a huge thing for someone like Taehyung to admit, especially since it was the first time he’d ever said something so personal to someone. It was like he’d just given you leverage, something you could use against him when you wanted to hurt him, and that wasn’t something Taehyung ever wanted.
The words were hard to even think of, let alone say, but they were honest and real, and that was what he promised you. He knew that was why he hated seeing you like that, hated thinking of you as someone he could use for sex—you’d stopped being just that a long time ago. People used him for sex, too, there was nothing bad in that if both people agree on it, but with you, things just didn’t work that way, not anymore.
Taehyung wasn’t sure what he was expecting you to say to his sudden confession, but it definitely wasn’t what you mumbled, “If this is how you treat people you care about, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I don’t know how to do it, that’s the problem, and I get it,” he admitted through a whisper, feeling even more vulnerable than before. How do other people do it? How do they talk about these things, how are they okay with them? “What would make this better? Do you want to do the same to me?”
Taehyung felt you sigh before he heard you grunt, and then your body went all stiff in his arms. “Do you really think treating you like shit would make me feel better? Come on, Tae… Why would I want that?”
“We’d be even,” he suggested, even though it was a stupid think to even think.
You moved away from his touch, and he was scared you were going to walk out. But, you only took a step backwards and looked straight into his eyes. “Fuck, Taehyung, I don’t want to be even. We’re not kids, I don't think I need to hurt you back to feel better, and I won’t. I just want to know that I can trust you not to let me down like that anymore. It’s not about the golden shower, believe me. I want to try things with someone I can trust, which is why I said yes to you in the first place. But now, I feel like the trust is gone, and I don’t know what else to do.”
That made a lot of sense. Taehyung would have a hard time trusting you if you did something similar. And then, it would all stop. Realizing how you were feeling only made his stomach drop and his throat dried up at the idea of you never trusting him again.
So, he said the first thing he could come up with, something that sounded reasonable, something that would convince you to stay. “We don’t have to fuck until you trust me.”
“Okay, so you’ll wait for me to call you for months?” you countered with a cocked up eyebrow. Usually, when you’d give him that look, it was a sign of you being in the mood. That night, it was a sign of you thinking he was an idiot.
Taehyung gulped, feeling dread wash over him—not because he couldn’t hold on without sex for that long, but because he didn’t want to go on without talking to you or seeing you for months. Months sounded like a long time. “We can, uh, talk and hang out without having sex. Right?”
“Since when do you want that?” You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to come up with something.
“I’ve just told you that I do,” Taehyung explained with a sigh, realizing he’d have to work harder on convincing you. “Like I’ve said, all this with Hoseok got me thinking.”
Your eyes widened and you nodded. “Is this about the beef you have with Hoseok and you wanting to prove you’re better?”
“No, it’s not that. I just realized that you could really just change your mind and start hooking up with Hoseok or anyone else for that matter, and the thought really bugged me. Not because it’s him, but because it’s you. I have fun with you, I do see you as a friend, and it would really suck if we stopped seeing each other.” There, he said it.
“Okay, listen… The next time you start thinking about stuff that worries you and has something to do with us, just let me fucking know,” you muttered the words out and gave him a knowing look. “I don’t expect you to care or change your behavior towards me. I’m fine with getting to fuck you when we’re both in the mood, but I’m not fine with you treating me like I’m someone you can just walk out on.”
“It will never happen again, I promise,” Taehyung crossed his heart with a couple of nods. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get in my head like that again, but I will let you know.”
You hummed and looked to the side, eyes wandering around while you thought about something. “Is it… Was it because I told you that you have a soft spot for me?”
Oh, you did say that, and it did make Taehyung feel like Yoongi was right. It felt like everyone could see it except him. When he’d heard you say it, it just convinced him that he was the only one who doesn’t know himself at all. “It was that and all the other things I’ve mentioned. It all happened within an hour and it’s a lot to process.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” you admitted, gulping loudly, showing some kind of nervousness Taehyung wasn’t used to seeing from you. “Maybe we should go home.”
Home? Taehyung didn’t want to say goodbye for the night, not after everything. He needed to be around you for a while longer, just until he felt like everything was okay, like he hadn’t ruined everything. “Can I… Come with you?” he dared ask, knowing you could turn him down.
Without batting an eye, you did exactly that. “I’d rather if you don’t. Not now.”
“Are you sure?”
You scoffed and looked at him again, your expression softening a bit. “Yes. I want to be alone and think about everything.”
Taehyung’s heart sank to his stomach when he realized you were determined not to spend more time with him. It could have been just a temporary thing—you didn’t want to talk to him that night. But, Taehyung was scared. What if it turned into something permanent?
So, desperately, he suggested, “Can I walk you home?”
“I’m tired, I’ll get a cab.” Once again, you turned him down easily, showing him you really didn’t want to be around him, which was upsetting, and not in the angry type of way. No, Taehyung just felt his chest shrink down until it felt like he couldn’t take a breath.
But, he had to let you have your way. It was your right not to want to be around him, especially after the way he treated you. If he kept pushing and trying to force you to talk to him, Taehyung would just ruin everything, and he was already on thin ice with you.
Finally, he came up with something that sounded appropriate, something that would buy him a little more time with you. “Let’s share an Uber, at least.”
You said yes to that, even though unwillingly, and the wait for the Uber was really weird. You both stood out there in the cold, and Taehyung just really wanted to hug you, but it was out of the question. Your usual thing was kissing, groping, having your hands on each other when you were somewhere together. That night, you were standing feet apart, bodies not even brushing against one another, let alone touching. Taehyung could forget all about kissing and hugging. They were privileges he’d lost by being a fucking moron.
The last thing he wanted was for you to go home and think about what a piece of shit he was and decide to break things off with him. But, he couldn’t prevent that from happening. You had every right to decide you were over this thing with him, and Taehyung couldn’t do anything about it. Still, it didn’t feel like he made things right.
The drive to your place was quiet, but Taehyung used the opportunity to place his hand over yours. Surprisingly, you didn’t move it away, so that felt comforting. You may have been pissed off at him, but you at least appreciated him holding his hand over yours, and that was something. It wasn’t something he usually did, but he was desperate to keep you close then, dying to have you treat him the way you usually do.
When the driver pulled up at your place, Taehyung got out of the car with you, not even thinking about his decision twice. What was he supposed to do, drive off without getting to talk to you in private for a minute or two, without saying goodbye? He definitely wasn’t going to do it in a fucking Uber, not after the fuck up he’d made earlier.
You, on the other hand, weren’t so keen on the idea, judging by the glare you gave him when he stepped onto the sidewalk and stood right next to you. “Where are you going?”
“I want to walk you to your door,” he told you while you just stood there and glared at him, making him feel like an even bigger idiot than he already was.
“Taehyung… Please go back inside,” you hissed the words at him like you were angry, even though he thought you were on somewhat good terms again. Wasn’t that what your conversation back in the room was all about? “You can’t stay over.”
“I know…” Taehyung nodded, hoping you saw that wasn’t his goal, “I just want to… Hug you, at least.”
It was an embarrassing thing to admit, but it would definitely make him feel better. Well, it would at least make Taehyung feel like you didn’t hate him, and that was something.
The way you scoffed made his head snap up in your direction. “You want a hug? You, Kim Taehyung? Kim I’ve-never-had-a-feeling-in-my-life Taehyung? Please.” The tone told him you were done with him for the night.
“That was mean,” he pointed out, even if he couldn’t blame you for saying all those things. You had every right to be mean to him and not take his words seriously, especially not after he walked out on you in that position at someone else’s place. Besides, you were right—Taehyung wasn’t the type of guy who cared or asked for hugs, yet there he was, needing one from you.
“It was. You’re right. I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I’m just mad now, and that’s why I think it’s best if you go home.”
“I think we should spend more time together and…” he gulped, “talk about it. I don’t want to go home knowing you’re mad at me.” It was the truth—Taehyung would hate going to bed knowing you’re in your bed thinking about how much you hate him or, even worse, crying over the way he treated you.
“You can’t fuck your way out of everything, Taehyung.”
Well, touché. You had a comeback for everything he said, which usually amused him. Tonight, it only served as a reminder of what kind of an asshole Taehyung was to you and how good he’d had it all that time when he was on your good side, when you treated him well, when you were gentle with him.
He admitted, “I’m starting to realize that.”
“Okay. Good.”
“Maybe I’ve misspoken. I meant, I don’t want to go home knowing you’re hurt because of me,” Taehyung began, hoping he’d manage to get the words out in a way that made sense. “When I walked out on you, I didn’t think that I wanted to humiliate or hurt you. I thought I should treat this girl like I treat every other one because I just don’t care and I don’t want people to get any ideas.”
You tried to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, but you failed and did it with a snort. “Wow, every girl’s dream.”
“But it’s not true, clearly,” he added quickly. It wasn’t, it really wasn’t. Fucking Yoongi was right. He did care about you and wanted things to stay the same. At the same time, Hoseok was wrong.
“I kind of doubt that, Tae,” you told him softly, eyes sparkling in the dark.
This time, he couldn’t help but groan. “Why in the fuck would I be here? I got to fuck you. I got to play out a dumb fantasy. I could have just left like I said I would. I’d find someone else to fuck. I like us!”
“Who’s ‘us’, Taehyung? We don’t exist,” you pointed out slowly, your voice almost cracking again. You were right—you two as a thing didn’t really exist—but weren’t you friends with benefits? Wasn’t he the only guy who got to kiss you and touch you and fuck you whenever you both wanted it? That had to count for something. As if you noticed the disappointed look on his face despite not even looking at him, you sighed and quickly added, “Let’s call it a night, hm? It’s been too eventful for my liking, and I just really want to be alone.”
And then, you leaned in for a hug, which he gladly accepted. The hug you gave Taehyung was a weak attempt to try to make it seem that things were alright. You did it for him, to get him to go home and leave you alone, which he did. He let you out of his embrace when he felt you pushing away, and wished you a good night, hoping you’d ask him to stay. You promised to text him when you had time to think about the whole thing some more, but Taehyung felt that was just your way of letting him down gently.
So, he wallowed in self-pity for a while, hoping that you’d call him or that he’d forget about it. Since he didn’t want to compromise your deal, Taehyung couldn’t exactly go out and fuck someone, which meant he didn’t have that many options other than just try to forget. He didn’t talk about the whole thing with Yoongi, deciding not to let other people mess with his head anymore. He knew what he felt, and he was just waiting for your decision. Whatever happened was going to happen between you two, and the opinions of his friends or fucking Hoseok didn’t matter.
Despite feeling like crap, Taehyung went out the next week after his friends insisted he came. He’d been spending time on his own all week, and they were wondering if everything was okay. Since the last thing he wanted was to discuss anything related to you, which would definitely happen if Yoongi had a say in it, Taehyung just decided to go out with them and pretend he was feeling just fine.
He may have gone out, but he wasn’t really drinking—just a drink or two to stay awake and have enough patience to deal with drunk assholes. Were all drunk people usually that annoying or was it just because Taehyung was finally sober for a change? Whatever it was, it made him feel antsy. He avoided large crowds and stuck with the couple of people he knew who weren’t obnoxiously drunk—not just yet.
And then, he noticed you walking in with a couple of friends, tipsy and happy. Taehyung could tell by the way you were giggling and holding onto your friend’s arm, not even looking around the room to see who was there. Definitely drunk. The sound of your giggling filled his ears, and he wished he could just walk over to you and kiss you, maybe even grab your ass, ask you to come upstairs with him, like he’d done so many times before. But, even a hug would have been nice. He just needed a sign that it was all okay, that it would go back to normal, that he hasn’t ruined the whole thing by thinking with his stupid fucking dick.
Your eyes meet for a second or two, but definitely long enough for you to realize it was him you were looking at. You froze for an instant but quickly recovered and looked away, continuing to talk to your friends, making your way out of the room and into the next one, away from Taehyung’s questioning gaze. He had no right to follow you or walk up to you to see how you were doing. You asked him for time to think. If your idea of thinking about you two was going out and drinking with friends, he definitely wasn’t going to blame you. Taehyung just hoped you’d let him know what you’d decided and not just string him along.
An hour later, he started feeling restless, wondering where you were, who you were with, and whether you were even thinking about him. You were all he could think about, and it felt annoying, to say the least. Taehyung had another drink in the meantime, but it was nowhere near enough to stop thinking about you. Against his better judgment, he pretended to be looking for the bathroom and walked around the place, hoping to see you. But, he was praying he wasn’t going to run into you with someone else. For some reason, that thought would really upset him, Taehyung was aware.
Thankfully, you were with your friends, dancing and laughing, looking as gorgeous and carefree as ever. You were drunk, that much was clear, but not too drunk to be out of it. He watched you dance for a while, letting his eyes wander all over your body, the body he’d had so close so many times, the body he missed having under him. Taehyung shook himself out of his thoughts about you and everything he wanted to do to you and left the room.
Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, so he texted you a while later.
Taehyung: so pretty when you smile like that :)
After he pressed ‘send,’ Taehyung realized that sounded kind of creepy, but he couldn’t unsend it, so he just went with it. You’d already told him to fuck off, so this text couldn’t really ruin anything. He wasn’t expecting you to answer, especially not within ten minutes, but you did.
You: pretty? not a compliment i expected from you
Were you angry? Upset? Teasing? Taehyung couldn’t tell. He wished you’d told it to him in person so he could have seen your face and heard your tone. Since you hadn’t, Taehyung could only guess, so he went with teasing—it suited him the most out of all the possible options.
Taehyung: i mean, do i think you’re hot and do i want to fuck you stupid? yes. this just sounds nicer
Taehyung: and is just as true
He wasn’t sure if the texts were too much, but they were honest, and that was the most he could do—other than walking over to you and kissing you, which could probably end the whole thing. So, he stuck to texts. You didn’t respond that time, which made him realize he fucked it up. Maybe you were upset with him for not putting in any effort, for following your instructions to leave you alone, for even texting you a compliment. Maybe the other texts he sent just annoyed you even more. It was all possible, and the game wasn’t something Taehyung was used to playing, so it left him confused.
Despite feeling like crap, he didn’t have any more drinks. Instead, he hung around in the quieter rooms and tried to stay awake, even though the thought of just going home was attractive. Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t leave because he would have missed you when you came out to look for him. That was what you had to be doing when you walked inside the room and looked around until you looked straight into his eyes. His head snapped up in your direction, and you were next to him before he could blink.
“Let’s go upstairs,” you suggested, grabbing his hand. Nothing about it was gentle or sweet, but Taehyung let you hold his hand and lead the way.
You walked up the stairs and into a random bedroom without a word, locked the door behind you in complete silence, pushed Taehyung onto the bed, and took off your underwear, sliding it down your legs while staying covered with your dress. The whole scene was confusing him, but it was so hot at the same time—you, just taking what you want, which just so happened to be him.
The next second, you were straddling his thighs, fingers fumbling with his zipper. At that point, Taehyung stopped you by covering your hands with his and sighing. “Hey, hey… You good there?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, pouting at the zipper. “Just want to get these off.”
“Sure you can do this?” he asked, even though he was risking you getting up and walking away. “Not too drunk?”
“I’m not that drunk, Tae. Four drinks, maybe,” you explained as you finally pulled the zipper down. The next second, your hand was under the waistband of his boxers, palming to find his cock. You hissed when you did, finding it hard for you already. “I can do this. Can you?”
“Three drinks,” Taehyung told you, mesmerized by the way you were stroking him as if you were just trying to get him hard enough to fuck. He already was. “No longer angry with me?”
“Tae, let’s just… do this,” you suggested, a hint of annoyance in your voice. It made Taehyung realize he wasn’t there because you were trying to make up with him—if that even existed in a friends-with-benefits situation. No, you were just there to get off, and he was just familiar.
“If that’s what you want,” he responded with a shrug and lifted his hips off the bed so you could slide his jeans and boxers down his thighs, just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and hard for you.
Taehyung watched you stroke him slowly, eyes focused solely on his cock, hissing when you saw him leak precum for you. “No condom, right?” You finally looked up at his eyes as if you were trying to check if he’d lie. He hadn’t had sex with anyone else since you two argued, and he hoped this meant you hadn’t either. That would mean the deal was still on, even if things weren’t exactly peachy right then. There was hope, after all.
“No condom,” he confirmed, propping himself up on his elbows and getting a good look at you. “Once again, you’re sure about this?”
“Tae, I need to come,” you said firmly, nodding at him right after as if he was slow. “Do you want to come too?”
“Y-yeah,” he gulped, “I do.”
“Okay, then let’s just think about coming,” you suggested, moving your knees towards his hips until you were kneeling right above his crotch and guiding his dick towards your entrance. You started to ease yourself down onto his cockhead, but Taehyung’s grip around your waist stopped you in place, and you looked up at him. “What?”
“No prep?” Taehyung questioned, wondering if you were really as sober as you claimed. None of it was like you, yet you didn’t seem to be slurring your words. You just seemed out of it, and that was somehow worse, at least in his eyes.
Your huff gave off your annoyance with him. “I just want you to fuck me.”
“Just that?” Taehyung asked, hoping he’d hear a different answer.
“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” you retorted with a half-smirk. “Not like you to talk this much when someone’s offering a quick fuck.”
Your words stung a bit, Taehyung couldn’t lie, but he had to grit his teeth and move on. You had a bit to drink, you were still angry with him, and just needed release. At least you came to him and not some other guy, choosing to end your agreement.
“Then you’ll get fuck like you want,” he told you as he wrapped his arms around you and got up.
Quickly, he discarded his shoes, jeans, and boxers so he could give you what you clearly wanted. Just a quick fuck, nothing more, just someone to fuck you. He could be just that, if it was all you wanted. With that in mind, Taehyung walked around you, standing right behind you before he pushed his hips into your from behind, mouth attaching to your neck.
“Shit,” you muttered when his teeth grazed your skin, his arms sliding up your clothed body, giving your tits a squeeze before moving down to rest on your hips.
“On the bed, on your knees,” he ordered with a slap to your ass, so you listened instantly, getting in the position he asked of you, legs spread, ass up in the air.
It was not how Taehyung wanted to fuck you, but if you wanted him to just fuck you stupid, he could do that too. So, he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it over your hips, letting it pool around your ribs, which were pressed into the mattress. “Fucking needy tonight,” he told you, mesmerized by the wetness between your folds, a clear sign of your arousal.
He stroked his cock with one hand while he leaned in and spat on your hole, enjoying the way his saliva glistened on your folds. You hissed when he touched you, thumb spreading the spit all around your hole. The next second, he slid a finger in, fingering you for a couple of seconds before adding another. It didn’t take him long to finger you open and have you moaning for him.
Then, Taehyung pulled his fingers out, spat on his cock, and shoved it inside of you, grunting loudly as he did. Since you two hadn’t had sex in a while and he was so desperate to feel you, it felt better than he remembered, tighter, more welcoming. Your moans sounded even better now that he finally had you again, his hips starting to snap into yours, slowly at first.
With every groan of his name, he went harder, his stomach clenching with each thrust. It was all about you and getting you to come, and Taehyung wanted nothing more than to feel you come around him while you moaned his name. That’s what happened not long after. Instead of getting to come inside of you, you let Taehyung come inside of your throat before you swallowed and put on your underwear. Not long after, you were gone, leaving him to sit there and think how he managed to fuck things up that much.
After your little encounter at the party, you went radio silent on Taehyung again. Not a call, not a text, not a peep. He felt a bit cheap, even though he was used to fucking people and never really talking to them again. But, you weren’t just a person to him, and he was hoping he wasn’t that to you. A good fuck, and you were gone again, back to ignoring him.
Taehyung worried about that whenever he wasn’t keeping busy, so he did stuff all the time, even deciding to go to a school game just to avoid being alone. Of course, he ran into Hoseok there, and they both had more than a couple of drinks in them by that point. In Taehyung’s mind, Hoseok was the fucking cause of everything.
If he hadn’t meddled, none of it would have happened. Did he have to walk in on you two having sex? Taehyung was getting the feeling that the guy followed you around like a puppy. Hoseok spoke about you with such annoyance in his voice, even though he was the one who was dating someone else. That could only mean he still had some kind of feelings for you and that those feelings were hurt.
Is that why he chose to join that threesome? Taehyung couldn’t see how that would help Hoseok. Watching someone you care about getting fucked stupid by a guy you can’t stand wouldn’t be on his top ways of getting back together with someone, but what did he know? Taehyung definitely wasn’t a fuck-buddy expert. Still, he could never watch a guy fuck you, not after that time. It was off limits now, anyway.
After all that, did Hoseok really have to tell you those things, call you a slut for fucking them? He was the slut in the situation, and Taehyung didn’t mean it as an insult. Hoseok was dating someone else and decided to join you two. He had no business telling you those things or implying Taehyung or you were just good for sex. Hoseok was the one who fucked everything up, probably in the hopes of getting on your good side again, getting to fuck you the way you’ve only let Taehyung fuck you for weeks now.
So, when the guy threw a simple insult his way, Taehyung practically exploded. It was on their way out of the uni building. He couldn’t even remember what Hoseok said, but it involved you and him, and it was said sarcastically, in a way that implied you two were done. And that was something Taehyung couldn’t stand.
How the fuck would Hoseok know that if he wasn’t talking to you? Wasn’t that the goal all along? Were you two now in cahoots, fucking again, making fun of Taehyung behind his back for being an idiot and falling for you? It didn’t sound right, but Hoseok’s snicker told him otherwise.
That was why Taehyung ended up grabbing Hoseok by his shirt and slamming him against the wall, not even caring about all their friends being around, about random strangers being there. Fuck them and fuck anyone who’d stand up for the dude who was trying to rile him up.
“Shut the fuck up already!” he hissed at your ex-fuck buddy, who just laughed loudly and shook his head at Taehyung. “Don’t want to fucking hear you mention her again!”
“Pussy whipped!” Hoseok grunted and pushed Taehyung’s hands away. Soon enough, people started gathering around them, telling them to chill, so they both left, each in a different direction.
The encounter left a bitter taste in Taehyung’s mouth, mostly because he acted like a moron just because he heard your name being mentioned. What was even more embarrassing than his little emotional outburst was that you found out about it.
No word from you for a week, and then you texted the second he got into it with Hoseok, as if you were in constant contact with the jerk, as if you wanted to be with him. Did you? Maybe Taehyung was the one who got in between two people who had a thing and he was now paying for it.
You: this behavior is really childish and i HOPE it has nothing to do with us
Wow. It kind of hurt to see your text, especially since you’ve been silent for a long while. The only reason you stopped ignoring him was to tell him that, to stand up for your former (or maybe current) fuck-buddy? Great. Things were just peachy.
Taehyung: there’s no us, right!?
You: grow up!!
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right where you left me
characters: wonwoo & reader word count: 8.9k genre: exes to lovers summary: in which wonwoo leaves and takes your heart with him. three years later, you're in another city, but tragically, right where he left you. warnings: alcohol consumption, detailed smut.
please help me see seventeen on december!
***
Seoul’s stale and dusty air reminds you exactly why you don’t like visiting the capital city often despite its vibrance and the colors built upon its land. As someone who likes to have their own space once in a while, the city is not for you, with its busy streets and lights that never seem to dim even a little. Seoul, at least for you, is a place to visit when you’re looking for some excitement, some diversity, some stories to tell your workmates—but definitely not a place to reside in full time.
But here you are, two days after moving, trying to get used to its noise and its beauty at the same time. If it hadn’t been for your job requiring you to move around multiple times a year, you wouldn’t be here. Albeit grateful, part of you wishes it could have been some other place closer to where you were raised.
Growing up in Changwon, your slightly tanned skin had been used to the coastal area’s cool, salty air. Also, it’s 40 minutes away from Busan—where your best friend Jihoon lives (which means to reach your best friend is a 40-minute drive). And this is also one of the reasons why you didn’t want to move to Seoul unless Jihoon tags along with you (which he, unfortunately, did not because he “can’t just pack up his entire life so that you’re not lonely in Seoul”).
“Is it that bad?” Jihoon’s voice echoes from the speaker of your phone as you put away your groceries.
“Yes,” you huff, remembering how someone bumped into you as soon as you stepped out of the subway, making you drop one of your grocery bags. The person did not even bother to look back. “Jihoon, I want to go home.”
“How old are you again?” your best friend teases. Even from miles away, you could make up his face as he speaks with you. “You’ll be fine. Remember that your boss had said it’s a temporary relocation. Once you’re done with whatever you have to complete in Seoul, then you can come back home.”
“I doubt,” you answer as you finish organizing the last few containers. “Launching this project in Changwon took them 2 years to fully establish. It’s Seoul, I know many things are more accessible here; for sure we’ll have more chances of finding competent potentials here to kickoff the project with me. But still, I don’t think I can do this in six months; one year at the least, maybe, if I work hard enough.”
Jihoon hums, agreeing, then proceeds to ask when the rest of your team would arrive. You briefly explain their itinerary and tell him that you’re also in collaboration with HR to ensure that enough manpower will be available by next week. You ask about the project that Jihoon is also working on; he tells you he will most likely visit Seoul, too, and it excites you until he reminds you of what you’ve been trying to avoid since you arrived.
“Wonwoo lives in Seoul. At least you have someone you know,” he says, voice reluctant. “I mean, that is if you need help settling. I know you don’t have a lot of relatives up there, but you know, just in case you need someone to remind you of home.”
You laugh at the last statement. Jihoon sighs, knowing how stupid he sounded just now.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s not like I stopped being in contact with him after, you know, and it would be nice.”
“What would be nice?”
“You know, to catch up and all,” he answers, yawning. You look at the time, nine in the morning, Jihoon probably hasn’t had a wink of sleep.
You stay silent, sitting on the stool from your kitchen island, looking at your phone as if you’re waiting for him to say something more.
“It would be nice,” he repeats. “You were friends for a long time before you dated. It would be nice to have someone in the lonely city.”
You hum, still not willing to say anything. Jihoon knows that you never like talking about this, about Wonwoo.
“I mean, it has been how long?” Three years. “Two? Three years now, right? I’m sure Wonwoo’s moved on. I’m sure you have, too. Right?”
Being friends all throughout high school, dating as soon as you go into college, Wonwoo leaving as soon as the three of you graduated, you and him not being able to handle the distance—of course. Of course. You should have been able to move on at this point. Three years should be long enough for someone to move on. Three years should have allowed you to see someone else, to get rid of your feelings from the starry-eyed boy whose dreams are as vivid as yours.
Jihoon calls your name. “You there?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I’m here.”
You’re here, in Seoul, miles away from Changwon, but here also means right where Wonwoo left you.
***
Kwon Soonyoung is a long-distance friend of Jihoon, which by default makes you a friend of his, too. He and Jihoon used to live next to each other when the latter temporarily moved to Seoul to be trained for his current job. Soonyoung is vibrant and loud like the city, but kind and warm like home. He helps you familiarize yourself with the city and gives you a list of places to visit nearby where your live and work. He shows you which subway or bus stop to go to certain places and helps you settle in further.
A month into living in Seoul, you’re finally getting used to it. The rush still bothers you sometimes, but it’s better now, thanks to Soonyoung.
“Do you like this place?” he asks, mouth full as he chews on the grilled beef you had just served for him.
You nod, taking a piece of meat into your mouth.
“I’m glad,” he says. “This is me and my best friend’s favorite place. We come here every weekend to drink. He doesn’t really drink, but he eats a lot and takes me home to make sure I don’t die. Jihoon knows him, too, apparently. Small world, if you ask me. Wonwoo used to go to the same college as Jihoon.”
You almost choke. Soonyoung quickly hands you a glass of water and asks if you’re okay.
Small world, my ass. The universe should might as well just punch you in the gut.
“Wonwoo,” you breathe out. “Jeon Wonwoo.”
“Yes,” Soonyoung exclaims. “You know him, too? That’s—wait, that actually makes sense. You and Jihoon have been best friends since birth. Of course, you know Wonwoo.”
“Soonyoung,” you say, catching your breath after chugging the glass of water. “We have been hanging out for two, three weeks now. Why haven’t you ever mentioned Jeon Wonwoo?”
What difference would have it done? You would have avoided Soonyoung at all costs, wouldn’t have bothered to befriend this bright, kind man across you. Then, that would minimize the chances of ever seeing Jeon Wonwoo in Seoul until you have to go back home.
Soonyoung shrugs. “He’s been busy. But he should be free next weekend, so we can meet up here then—“
“No,” you cut him off and visibly, you could see how Soonyoung’s mouth form into a pout. “No, Soonyoung. Sorry.”
“Why?” He asks. “Wonwoo is not that bad. He’s a little cold, but he’s not that bad. You should know if you had known him back in Changwon. I mean, Jihoon is the coldest person in the universe, so Wonwoo is not half bad.”
“It’s not like that, Soonyoung,” you sigh, picking up a piece of radish and shoving it in your mouth.
The man across you is puzzled for a minute, chewing on another piece of meat with his eyebrows furrowed.
Soonyoung suddenly gasps when it dawns to him. “Oh my God.”
“Shut up.” He knows.
“You’re the ex,” he exclaims. “Holy shit!”
“Shut up, Soonyoung.”
“You are!” He repeats. “You’re the ex that got him so fucked up on his first year here in Seoul!”
“That’s rude,” you remark.
“Sorry,” he says. “Oh, I am so going to call Jihoon later. This should be fun.”
***
What are the odds of meeting Jeon Wonwoo for the first time in three years?
More than half month ago, back in Changwon, chances were nearly zero. Wonwoo completely moved to Seoul and never bothered to return since he left. His father and brother had already moved to Seoul, too; Wonwoo never really had a reason to go back.
Weeks ago, chances were little to likely. You are in Seoul. It is a big city, but bumping into him wasn’t completely impossible.
Two weeks ago, chances were most likely. After learning that Soonyoung had been friends with him for three years, it’s definitely a possibility to see him one of these days.
But here, in a small cafe at the corner of the street leading the way to your workplace, you would think that it’s less likely. There are thousands of cafes across Seoul, a wide variety of themes scattered along the busy streets, and it’s not very likely for you to meet Jeon Wonwoo in this place.
Yet here he is. Right in front of you. Sitting right across you as if it’s the easiest thing to do.
“So, uhh,” he starts, clearing his throat and setting his clasped hands on top of the table between you. “Seoul. How is it?”
You shrug, looking anywhere but him. “It’s alright. Too noisy—“
“I figured,” he interrupts but apologizes right away. “I mean. It’s different. From home. So, I figured it would be too noisy for you.”
Jeon Wonwoo is different, and it’s not like you expected him to remain the same after all these years, because you, too, are an entirely different person now. His hair is fixed, cut clean and pushed back from his forehead so that it doesn’t cover his eyes. Eyeglasses are nowhere to be found; you reckon he’s wearing transparent contacts to help with his sight. He’s wearing a suit and a tie, something you seldom saw back in Changwon, and he’s more confident now. He doesn’t look away when he talks. He doesn’t look like the Wonwoo you had known.
The Wonwoo you had known never would have approached you as soon as you stepped in the cafe. The Wonwoo you had known would have pretended he never saw you and ran away. The Wonwoo you had known would have shot a text to Jihoon to let him know that he saw you, so that you would initiate a conversation with him next time because you knew that he was too shy to say hi first.
In the end, you don’t really know a Jeon Wonwoo at present. He doesn’t know you at the same time.
“Jihoon said the same thing,” he continues, filling the awkward air with words you could barely absorb because you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he really is sitting right across you. “When he moved here for a while. I also thought of the same thing during my first few months here.”
You hum. The barista calls both your names just in time before another wave of awkward silence could take over you.
Wonwoo abruptly stands and tells you he’ll take both your orders. You let him. Your legs probably do no have enough strength to stand on its own at this time.
He comes back with both your orders combined in one tray. You’re glad you didn’t get anything to eat, otherwise you might have to vomit your insides out with how much your stomach is shaking.
“You sure you don’t want to eat anything?” He asks as he sets your drink in front of you. “The strawberry shortcake here is nice. Even the tiramisu is to die for.”
You shake your head. “I should get going,” you answer instead. “I just dropped by for some coffee. I need to go back to work.”
Wonwoo nods as he sips into his drink. “You work right down the street, right? I texted Jihoon while ordering, I hope you don’t mind. I asked him where you worked. I should have just asked you.”
“It’s okay,” you say. “But I should really go.”
Wonwoo pulls out his phone and slides it in front of you. The screen tells you he’s asking for your number.
“Please allow me to take you out for lunch,” he asks. “Let’s catch up.”
If your heart was galloping two minutes ago, at this point it’s in a fucking drag race. It’s not a good feeling and you do not trust yourself enough for things like this.
“Wonwoo,” you sigh. “I don’t think we should.”
“Why not?” He asks. “It’ll be alright. Besides, I’ve been meaning to ask Jihoon for your number anyway, ever since he told me you had moved here. I can help you fi—“
“Wonwoo, please,” you reply. Wonwoo stops. And this is the only time you actually look at his eyes.
His eyes soften when he notices the way your face winces in distress. Worry clouds the windows to his soul, and this lets you know that this Wonwoo may not entirely different from the Wonwoo you had known.
“Please,” you say again. “I’m not even sure why I agreed to sit across you, let alone give you my number and let you in again.”
“Y/N, I’m sorry.”
“You left, remember?” you reply. Wonwoo doesn’t answer. “You left. I could have waited for you, or uprooted my entire life so I could follow you here if you had a little more patience. A little more understanding.”
You have no idea where this burst of emotions are suddenly coming from, but it’s here now and you are not going to contain it.
“I don’t think I can be friends with you again, Wonwoo,” you continue. “It’s—it’s not right. It’s not good. For me. It’s not good for me, and I don’t think I am ready to reconnect with you in any form. I’m sorry, Wonwoo.”
“No,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
You nod and take your cup of coffee, bowing your head a little. “I’ll see you around.”
Wonwoo watches you leave.
***
You don’t drink a lot, and it reminds you why you, Jihoon, and Wonwoo were closer to one another compared to the rest of your friendship group back in college. The three of you were, by default, the ones responsible to take everyone home safely.
It was a routine back in college. So long as nobody has to attend some kind of practice on the weekend (swimming, football, debate club, theater – name it), everyone from your group would meet up at the same place at seven every Friday night. You, Wonwoo, and Jihoon knew everyone’s dormitories and were always in a conquest to ensure everyone would have hangover soup and aspirin ready by the time they wake up in the morning.
The flashes of memories make you smile as you down on another shot of alcohol, and man, do you wish Jihoon could keep you company. Both of you would have been so shitfaced by the third shot, careless and honest strings of words thrown at each other. As soon as alcohol has reached your system, you and him become emotional turmoils. You and him, despite being fully grown adults, are still terrible drinkers.
And you wonder if Wonwoo had learned how to handle his alcohol tolerance better.
The drink is hot when it slides down your throat, but you like it better than the feeling in your chest.
Jeon Wonwoo is the greatest love of your life.
It had always felt like he was a gift from the sky, like a star who fell comfortably on your hands, sharing his light and warmth whenever he was close. The star himself winked his vibrance amidst the void surrounding you – just in time when you were going through growing pains.
High school wasn’t the best time of your life, unlike any other person you may ask. It was when you were still trying to get to know yourself better while juggling school and family matters. Jeon Wonwoo had sat at the back of the class, as though he’s the furthest star from the sky, but his light extended far enough for you to see him.
Wonwoo has always been handsome, even when he had gained some weight on his cheeks in sophomore year and when he decided to get a K-Idol type of haircut that didn’t quite suit him. He was quiet and timid, wouldn’t talk to you unless you approach him first, but was subtly funny when he starts becoming comfortable. Wonwoo and Jihoon’s similarities made them friends, and you had to start competing against Wonwoo for the title of Jihoon’s best friend as soon as you noticed how much Jihoon adores the boy.
The three of you were inseparable. But it was always different with Wonwoo.
Jihoon wrote you a letter when your 15-year old dog passed away, and it was the most beautiful string of words you had read your entire life. Wonwoo couldn’t express himself well, but he slept over for two weeks and held your hand every day during that difficult time of your life.
Which is why the lines were never blurred with Jihoon, but with Wonwoo, it was always grey.
Jeon Wonwoo kissed you under the stars on the night of your graduation day – hands shaking, lips soft, eyes twinkling – and told you he had decided to go to the same college as you and Jihoon.
Wonwoo had just gotten a car from his father on the first day of college, and he made it a point to drive you to and from the state university. He had asked you to be his girlfriend before you got off from his car on the first day of freshmen year.
When you, him, and Jihoon had found part-time jobs to get you through dorm rent and daily needs, it had saved countless of core memories in your head. Those were difficult times, but it never felt that way when you had those two boys by your side.
Eventually, you and Wonwoo moved in together to save some money for rent. You and him fell into daily routines and in love with each other even more. Wonwoo became family, eventually, and you to his, and for a period of time, all was well. Better than well, most of the time.
That is until Wonwoo had to leave right after graduation and you couldn’t because you had so many things going for you in Changwon. There were opportunities for you and him, but in different places, and it would have been unfortunate if either of you turned these chance. Wonwoo had asked if you wouldn’t consider moving with him. Seoul is a big city, after all, there were jobs available for you. But as much as Wonwoo was a dreamer, you were, too. You had dreams of your own, and those dreams aren’t in Seoul.
Hence, Wonwoo had left and you had stayed. You were ready to let him go if it means he would fly and be successful. There were hushed promises the last time you made love in your shared apartment, words of comfort that things would be fine, that you and him will eventually find your way back to each other once you figure things out. No concrete plan, but promises nonetheless.
Promises that were, eventually, thrown into oblivion.
Inevitably, you and him became occupied at work – too much that sometimes both of you forget to call. On the weekends, during Wonwoo’s first few months in Seoul, you would take a train to visit him and spend your days off from work together. For a while, it worked. The routine of not talking at all from Mondays to Fridays and catching up on the weekends with you taking a train to Seoul worked. That is until you noticed Wonwoo never bothered to come see you at home.
To your surprise, his father and younger brother had moved to Seoul when he found a place for them to stay nearby. Bohyuk, his brother, was getting ready for college, and Wonwoo decided it would be best for him to study in the city and have his father move, too.
“Not right now,” Wonwoo had answered as soon as he picked up the call. But you weren’t having it.
“Don’t hang up,” you had warned while knowing well that he was in the middle of work. “Bohyuk dropped by to say goodbye. You never bothered to tell me you’ve decided to have them move to Seoul.”
“Y/N,” Wonwoo warned in the same tone. “I’m at work. Let’s talk about this when you come here on the weekend.”
“I am not going there on the weekend, Wonwoo,” you firmly replied. “Why don’t you ever come home?”
Wonwoo had stayed silent on the other line.
“You like Seoul that much, huh?” You taunted. Wonwoo huffed on the other line and you knew him well enough to understand that he’s just as angry as you. “You’ve never bothered to come home. I’ve always travelled miles and miles for you, spending my days off on trains and not being able to sleep well at night because it’s not my bed. Every fucking weekend since you moved to the city.”
“What are you trying to say?” Wonwoo asked.
You sighed, palm on your forehead as you tried to think about where you and him went wrong. “Wonwoo, why do you never come home?”
Wonwoo never held back, didn’t take a second to even think about his answer. “I don’t have a reason to visit Changwon. It’s not home for me.”
That was the last straw for you.
It may be the vodka that’s keeping you from remembering, but you’ve forgotten what you had said after that. All you remember is how you were fuming mad and had taken an empty box to gather all of Wonwoo’s things and to send it to his address in Seoul. It was only then that you had realized Wonwoo had really left. He had taken all of his belongings when he left to Seoul, and you realized he didn’t bother leaving any clothes or any pair of shoes when he took the flight to Incheon to reach Seoul. It was only then that you had realized Wonwoo never inteded to go back. He took all of what’s his and had left you.
And it may be, again, the vodka that’s talking but you understand now why you dislike Seoul so much.
It’s because you never understood why Wonwoo had easily left you for a city so bright and so loud, and you were jealous of that. You were envious of a city and you wonder why Changwon was never enough for him to even visit. Why you were never enough for him to call you home.
Wonwoo, indeed, was a star that fell out of the sky.
The universe never told you that you had to return him back to the sky eventually. It was the most painful thing you had to do, but you did it, anyway.
***
It turns out that saying that you don’t want to reconnect with Wonwoo is better said than done.
Soonyoung is determined to see you and Wonwoo in the same room, same space, same air – that’s why you are here, again, in the same barbecue place that Soonyoung took you weeks ago.
It’s Saturday, and Soonyoung picked you up from your apartment to have some grilled meat, yours and his favorite. And you should have known, truly, with the smug look on his face and overly huge grin on his mouth, that Wonwoo had been waiting for you and Soonyoung at the said place.
Wonwoo and Soonyoung talk animatedly about work and how the week went by so slow with the load of work they had to finish. The two apparently met at work and have been friends since then.
You stay silent for the most part, reason truly being to tired from work. You tell them you had been working ten to eleven hours a day since Monday because of the preparation for the program’s launch. Soonyoung points out that all you’ve been eating for the entire week are noodles and soda.
“That’s not healthy,” Wonwoo comments.
“I know,” you sigh. “But I don’t really have that much time to make something for breakfast. And I would be too tired in the evening to even wait for food delivery so I just settle on what I have.”
The conversation falls into place, awkwardness from the first few minutes gone, thanks to a tipsy Soonyoung clearing the air for everyone. And just like this, you and Wonwoo fell into another routine, as if those years of nothingness between you and him never existed.
***
Jihoon is surprised when he sees you and Wonwoo pick him up from the airport.
You had filled him in, of course, with the situation and how much you hate it, but still, your best friend couldn’t hide how happy (maybe?) he was to see you and Wonwoo together (not really). You decided to let Jihoon stay in your apartment for the entire two weeks that he needed to be here for business. One thing common about you and him, he could never sleep well on a hotel’s bed.
Wonwoo tags along, of course, and it’s the first time he sees where you live. You see him briefly stare at the pictures you had displayed in your small living room (many, many photographs of you and Jihoon, your family, some friends, and your pets who were left at home). He takes a second to study each, and you wonder if he’d been expecting to see his face on the photographs.
“Thanks, Wonwoo, for driving us here,” Jihoon says. “Y/N, I told you it would be more convenient if you get a driver’s license and buy a car. Especially here in Seoul. How are you commuting every damn day?”
You shrug as you start to unpack Jihoon’s carry on. “The company pays for my transportation. Also, driving, me? Can you really picture that?”
Both Wonwoo and Jihoon laugh.
“Some things never change,” Wonwoo mumbles.
You never learned how to drive because Wonwoo always drove you to places when you were younger. You were too uncoordinated to learn it on your own, and now you feel like you’re too old to take driving courses.
Wonwoo helps Jihoon settle in on the spare bedroom you had prepared for him. You can’t help but kiss Jihoon on the cheek when you the dried fish he had packed just for you.
“There is dried fish from the supermarket nearby,” Wonwoo comments as he watches you place the delicacies on the cupboard. “They’re good, too.”
You shake your head, still smiling, “Nothing will ever taste like home.”
Jihoon agrees from his bedroom.
The three of you decide to have dinner across the apartment complex. Soonyoung joins you within half an hour, which is why as soon as you finish your meal, alcohol is served on the table.
“You’re a fucking alcoholic,” you joke. Soonyoung pouts and says it’s the best time to drink because Jihoon is here. This is, as he says, a rare occurrence in the universe.
Eventually, Soonyoung was able to pursuade the three of you to drink, but he was already too tipsy himself to realize that you and Wonwoo had stopped taking shots on your second ones. Jihoon, however, seems to be having fun drinking with Soonyoung.
When the clock hits 12, Soonyoung’s roommate arrives to pick him up. The man introduces himself as Jun.
Jun is handsome, and he shakes his head when you offer him a drink. Soonyoung begins to tease you and tells everyone that he’s never seen you so red before. You tell them it’s the alcohol, but even Jihoon wasn’t buying it. Flirting wasn’t really your forte, and maybe it was those two shots of soju that helped you speak confidently with Jun the entire 20 minutes he sat on your table.
“Sorry,” you say as you and Jun haul Soonyoung to the car.
“It’s fine,” the man answers and settles his friend on the back seat. “I wonder why Soonyoung never introduced you.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” you reply. “I’ll see you around. Thanks for picking him up.”
Jun nods, smiling, and takes a device from his back pocket. “Here,” he says softly. “Put your number.”
Your breath is caught when you realize what’s going on, and unconsciously, for a reason unknown to you, you look back at the restaurant where Wonwoo is seated right the wall made in glass.
He is looking right back at you as this is happening.
Jun is quick-witted. He realizes what’s going on and chuckles.
“Oh,” he mutters, about to pull his phone back but you stop him, pulling your eyes away from Wonwoo.
Jun is surprised when you punch your number in and give yourself a missed call.
“Is it okay?” He asks.
“Nothing’s going on between me and Wonwoo,” you answer confidently.
Jun laughs, and you blush. “I’ll just say I believe you, okay? Now, give me a hug so he can throw more daggers at me. He’s been slaughtering me with his eyes since you and I started talking back there.”
You’re taken aback when Jun suddenly pulls you in, your face buried in his fruity scent and you laugh when he makes an effort to make it look real. He bids goodbye and you watch his car leave before returning to Wonwoo and a very sleepy Jihoon.
“Took you a while,” Wonwoo mumbles and helps Jihoon to stand. “Saying goodbye really takes that long?”
You shrug and walk to the other side of Jihoon, helping him walk as well. “He’s nice.”
“Nice enough to give your number immediately?” he mutters, making you chuckle at the new behavior.
“Yes, of course,” you answer sarcastically. “Soonyoung has mentioned him before. I’ve been looking forward to meeting him.”
The three of you walk (Jihoon, very drunkenly) across the street. Wonwoo punches the button to your apartment’s floor and you’re impressed at how easily he remembered it despite being here the first time.
Wonwoo complains about how buff Jihoon had gotten and how heavy he is when he comes back to the living room after closing the door behind your best friend’s room. He catches you making tea, and you don’t even remember grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
“Tea?” You offer. Wonwoo hums and takes one mug from the counter. He comfortably takes a seat on the couch, taking a look around while waiting for the tea to cool a little. You don’t hesitate to take a seat beside him.
“Nice place,” he comments.
“Isn’t that compliment a little too late?” you joke, blowing air to your tea and deciding to set it down the table beside Wonwoo’s because it’s still too hot.
“We were busy unpacking Jihoon’s things,” he answers. “I didn’t get a good look.”
“Thanks,” you say anyway. “Nothing like home but, you know, it’s nice.”
Wonwoo chuckles. “You like comparing everything to what it is at home. If you keep doing that, you’re never going to truly like Seoul. Changwon and Seoul are two different places.”
“I have no plans of liking Seoul,” you answer. “I’m here for work. Once I’m done, I’m going back home.”
Wonwoo nods. He looks at you and finally, you look back at him. Wonwoo had his hair down today, unlike all the other days you’ve seen him. He’s wearing his glasses and it reminds you a lot of what he used to look like when you were in college. He’s wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. And you would be lying if you say you’re not attracted to him right now.
He has always been handsome, and though you like when he wears suit and tie, nothing will ever compare to how attractive he looks right now, to how much he looks like the Wonwoo you had known right now.
Wonwoo licks his lips when your eyes meet his, and the sparks light up like a switch, then seconds later he’s kissing you.
Wonwoo’s lips are as soft as you could remember despite how roughly he’s holding you as he kisses the air out of your lungs. His hands are on your jaw, keeping your face still and he dives in, his tongue licking your lips and asking you to open up. You cave in so, so, so easily when his hands travel to your arms and to your legs and when he pulls you so that you’re sitting on top of him.
Wonwoo licks and bites and sucks your lips and your tongue, and the heat between your legs makes you moan. The sound you make invites Wonwoo to touch the skin in your hips, your shirt lifted a little, and suddenly he’s pulling the material over your head.
He is hard when you move closer and sit right on top of his crotch, and he makes the same sinful sound when you grind yourself on his boner. The strap of your bra begins to fall from your arms and this encourages Wonwoo’s lips to leave yours and mark up your shoulders and chest. You throw your head back when Wonwoo pulls one of cups of your bra down and starts kissing your breasts. He nips and sucks where you want it the most and uses his other hand to massage the other.
“Wonwoo,” you moan. “Room.”
Wonwoo doesn’t need a second. He uses his strength to stand and carry you while your legs are wrapped around his waist, teas forgotten and cold. He locks your room, gently places you on bed and pulls his shirt off his body before climbing on top of you again.
“Can I take these off?” He asks. You don’t know which piece of clothing he’s asking but you nod anyway.
Wonwoo unclasps the last piece of clothing that’s covering your chest and continuest to dive in, mouth finding your nipple, sucking, nipping, biting, kissing. And it’s hot and your heart somersaults with how familiar this feels. With how much Wonwoo remembers when it comes to your body. You feel your wetness pool even more between your legs when you realize Wonwoo has been kissing you on the right places, sucking when you need it the most, biting where you want it the most
“Wonwoo,” you moan when he finishes sucking both your breasts and moves down to kiss your stomach. “Please.”
“Please what, sweetheart?” He asks. You involuntarily moan at the nickname and how low and attractive his voice sounds, and how much you remember that he likes words being used when fucking. “Tell me what you want.”
“I need you,” you answer. Wonwoo chuckles, kissing your stomach.
“You need me now?” he taunts. “You seem to like Jun.”
You shake your head, reaching so you could pull him back to your lips. You kiss Wonwoo, palms touching his neck and shoulders. (Wonwoo had started working out, you realize.)
“I’ve only ever liked you,” you say in between kissing him. “Please. I need you.”
“Don’t be in love with someone else,” Wonwoo whispers and you nod. He kisses you one more time before going back down in between your legs.
“Use your words, sweetheart,” he commands. “What do you want me to do?”
“Your hands and mouth,” you answer. Wonwoo shakes his head. You sigh, closing your eyes and know exactly what he wants to hear. “Please eat me out, Wonwoo. Please use your tongue and your fingers.”
Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate. “Can I take these off?” You nod. He pulls your pants alongside your panties down.
You bite your lip when Wonwoo breathes out as soon as he sees you on full display. Unconsciously, you start to cover your breasts and close your thighs, but Wonwoo stops you and tells you he wants to see you first. Wonwoo takes his time looking at you, admiring your skin and the wetness between your legs.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he whispers and dives in.
Wonwoo knows how to use his tongue well. There were a lot of things you’ve already forgotten about your dynamics, but if you could recall one thing perfectly, it’s how amazing he treated you in bed. He takes his time making small, soft licks on your folds, tongue glazing on your clit, making you squirm and moan. Wonwoo holds you down when you start to move and close your legs on his head.
“I’ve missed this,” Wonwoo mutters as he sucks and kisses your cunt. You’re a moaning mess and even worse when you see him looking right at you as he licks your wetness. “I’ve missed you,” he says, eyes locked to yours, tongue slowly licking up, showing you exactly how wet you are for him through his tongue. He climbs back and kisses you, letting you taste yourself.
Wonwoo takes this moment to slide to fingers in while you’re making out. His mouth swallows your moans when he fingers you fast, your cunt making a scandalous schluck, schluck, schluck sound as his fingers pound you hard and fast. You’re about to cum when Wonwoo stops.
“Do you have a condom?” He asks and that’s when it hits you.
“Fuck, I don’t,” you answer. Wonwoo nods and says it’s okay. He lays on his side beside and starts to slide his fingers again.
“I’ll make you cum like this,” he assures but you shake your head.
“I’m clean,” you say suddenly. Wonwoo takes the message. “I’ve never had sex with anybody after you.”
“Me neither,” he answers and you’re already gone.
“Pull out,” you remind him. “I’m not ovulating so we should be good.”
Wonwoo agrees and removes his pants. His erection springs and it’s huge and red and you sit up to touch him but Wonwoo stops you.
“I might cum as soon as you touch me,” he says. “Next time.”
Next time. Next time. Next time.
You nod and lie back down on your pillows, legs open for Wonwoo, all wet and ready for him. Wonwoo settles between you, one hand on the bed steadying himself and the other holding his hardness. He massages his tip nice and slow with your clit and it takes everything in you not to take matters into your hands and ride the fuck out of him. You let Wonwoo take his time when he slides into you slowly.
He’s as big as you remember, but he prepared you well (and wet) enough for your cunt to swallow his cock gracefully. Wonwoo is a mess when you look at him. His face is read and contorted into a look of pleasure when he feels how warm you are inside.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re still just as warm.”
He begins to slide in and out, a steady pace, and kisses you all over your face, asking if you feel good. You nod and let out a moan when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.
“You feel exactly the same since the last time.” Since you left. “And I love you,” Wonwoo says. “I love you.”
He says it over and over again. He says it when he pulls out for a second, bringing your legs up on his shoulders and fucking you deeply on your bed. He says it when he spreads your legs again, diving back to your lips, and tells you he’s about to cum. He says it over and over again when he makes you cum first, fingers making circles on your clit as he swallows the noises you make when you reach your orgasm. And he says it when he continues fucking you until he has to pull out and cum on your stomach.
You say it back when Wonwoo carries you to the toilet because he knows you need to pee after sex. You say it again when he cleans you up with the shower head and a towel. You say it again when he carries you back to bed and pulls the covers over your body, kissing you on the lips and on the forehead. You say it again when he’s asleep and you’re staring at the digital clock on your bedside table, Wonwoo hugging you from behind, his naked chest keeping you warm.
Just when you’re about to drift off to sleep, you look at the time again. 1:56 am, it says, and you wonder if it’s going to hurt if it doesn’t work out with Wonwoo for the second time.
Your back aches a little, a small groan leaving your lips when you adjust your torso so that it's more comfortable. Wonwoo remembers it like the back of his hand and helps you adjust yourself so that your back is not as stiff. He mumbles a soft I love you, and you hum when his thumb makes small circles on the skin of your stomach.
The last thing in your mind before completely passing out is the answer: yes. It’s going to hurt.
**
A routine is made after that night.
Wonwoo had woken up long before you, but he stayed on the same position as you slept. The only difference was that he had his phone in his hands as you slept soundly. He had kissed you as soon as he realized you were awake like it’s the most normal thing to do. He had dressed up and said he’ll pick you and Jihoon up for dinner and that he had to leave because he had to do his laundry before Monday arrives.
Indeed, Wonwoo had picked you up that same evening. When he held your hand and kissed you in the car, Jihoon didn’t say anything. After that dinner, Wonwoo stayed the night again (and this time, you and him had to be more quiet because Jihoon was awake and sober in the other room).
The routine goes like this: Wonwoo picks you up from work every day because he clocks out at the same time and eats dinner with you or with you and Jihoon if the latter is not busy. Sometimes he would take you out for dinner, other times he asks you to cook for him at your apartment. He does home and only stays the night if it’s the weekend. When Jihoon leaves Seoul for Busan, he tells you he's happy his best friends are together again, and warns that love is more painful the second time around as much as it is sweeter.
Some weekends, Wonwoo would take you to his father and brother’s apartment nearby the university. Bohyuk looked confused, most likely why you’re suddenly in the picture again when he knows all too well that it didn’t end up nicely between you and his brother, but he never said anything.
It’s easy to fall into a routine with Wonwoo, and the lines were never blurred. He never shied away from admitting how he felt and conveniently, you had always felt the same.
He apologized for leaving you behind (though, him leaving Changwon wouldn’t have been so bad, you could have compromised) and for never making an effort all because he was too excited to venture out his new life in Seoul. He spends hours talking about his experience and how much he missed you every step of the way. And just like that, you and Wonwoo are back together.
All is well, at least for the time being.
**
The program launch was a success six months in. You had underestimated yourself in the beginning, yet here you are after months of working hard, recognized and praised by your bosses with how efficient you had worked for the last six months.
They jokingly tell you that you’re free to go back home now, but Seoul will always be ready for you whenever you wanted to come back.
And in the last six months, you have learned love the place despite its noise and how busy it is all the time. You have understood why people sought after Seoul’s vibrance and why people find inspiration when they visit the city. You have seen different personalities and realized that maybe it’s not the city that’s giving the place colors, maybe it’s the people and their diversities and quirks. Seoul, finally, is a place you like and would often visit if given the chance.
But in the end, home is still home.
People think that all small town girls want to venture out the big city and learn life from there, but it’s different for you. You like Changwon, and as much as you love Seoul now, nothing compares to home.
And so you decide to go back home.
And Wonwoo wasn’t taking it well.
“But I thought you love Seoul,” he argues when you drop the bomb on him.
“I do,” you answer. “And I love you. But it’s not home, Wonwoo.”
He licks his lips, frustrated and leans back from the dining chair. “Y/N, stay. You’ll do well here.”
“I’ll do better in Changwon, Won,” you reply. “Besides, it’s not like we’re breaking up again. We know better now.”
“You don’t know that,” he mumbles and drinks from the glass.
You sigh, losing the appetite. “Won. I supported you when you wanted to move to Seoul. Can’t you do the same for me?”
“Am I not enough?” He mumbles. You understand but you ask him to repeat. “Am I not enough?”
You laugh sardonically. “It's funny because I was asking myself the exact same thing when you left me for Seoul.”
Wonwoo sighs. “That was different, Y/N. We were just starting our careers back then. It was an opportunity I couldn’t miss. It’s different this time. You have the choice to stay.”
“And you had the choice to visit me once or twice and to make it work,” you retort. Wonwoo is taken aback by your sudden attitude. “But you didn’t. In your head, it was all Seoul. You told me you didn’t have a reason to come home.”
“I only said that because I was pissed,” he answers. “You’re the one who broke up with me.”
“And you didn’t bother calling back,” you respond. It’s true. He never called back, never tried to apologize, never took a train home to ask you to take him back – which you would have. In a heartbeat. Without a doubt.
“Was I not enough?” You ask the question back to him. “Was I not enough for you to compromise, Wonwoo? Now, am I not enough for you to finally learn how to compromise and make this work?”
Wonwoo stays silent. You can’t read his mind, so you pick up the dishes and wash up. He avoids you at all costs. By the time the clock hits 9 pm, Wonwoo bids you goodbye – but not before kissing you on the forehead.
When the door is shut, you start to cry and pack your things.
***
Your flight is three days from now, but Soonyoung is already acting like it’s your last day. He reckons it would be nice to have dinner at the same barbecue place for the last time because you would be too busy for he next two days.
The dinner is nice, as always, and Wonwoo is silent the whole time. Soonyoung teases him and tells his friend not to be too sad that you’re going back, unaware of the fight you and the latter had two days ago.
When dinner is done, Wonwoo drives you home and announces that he’s staying the night. You let him and kiss him on the lips before taking a shower.
Wonwoo hugs you while you scroll through your phone on the bed.
It’s been two days and all he’s done is to mope around. He has followed you everywhere but hasn’t said anything about you moving. He takes care of you, kisses you, and even makes love to you but he doesn’t talk about the elephant in the room. You are just as bad; you don’t say anything either.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly when you’re laughing at a video from Instagram, you almost miss it.
“What was that?” you ask, pausing the video and looking up at him. Your head is resting on his arm, his hand playing with one of yours.
“I’m sorry,” he says it again, clearly this time. “I thought about us a lot, even talked to Jihoon and asked for his insights. And I realized how insensitive I have been towards you and this relationship. Jihoon told me about how much pain you went through three years ago—“
“Wonwoo, you’ve already been forgiven,” you interrupt.
“No, please let me apologize properly,” he says. “Three years ago, Changwon wasn’t the place for me. I was happy with you but I knew it in my heart that I couldn’t stay in Changwon. The first week in Seoul was the best week of my life. I had learned how to deal with different personalities here, and found myself learning about my own potentials that I couldn’t see when I was in Changwon. I was happy in Seoul, and it had always felt incomplete because you weren’t around. And I knew you never wanted to move.
“I had asked father and Bohyuk to move here because I knew they’d be better off here, too. And I knew deep down, you weren’t too keen of the idea of moving here with me someday, and that made me mad. That made me think as though you didn’t love me enough to even visit me every weekend, not realizing that you did. You do. You loved me so much that you let me go even when you were lonely and missing me most days. You supported me, and took your days off with me so that we could make it work.
“I was the one who didn’t love you enough to see through what we could have done and compromised to be together until the end. And with you being here in Seoul for the last six months, I have learned that I can never be truly happy if you’re not with me. So, I’m sorry, Y/N, that I had been too selfish years ago and even now. I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize once again a mistake I could have done for the second time. I’m sorry that you had to double your efforts back then and that I had made you feel like you weren’t enough – and the truth is that you are. More than enough if you ask me. And I am willing to meet you halfway to make it work this time.”
By the time Wonwoo is done, you’re already crying and hugging him. You don’t realize this until Wonwoo laughs and comments about how you made a paper towel out of his shirt. You apologize and stand to grab another shirt for him. He thanks you and helps you wipe your tears as you and him sit across each other on your bed.
“So how do we do this?” he asks. “We can take turns going back and forth from Changwon and here.”
“They’re promoting me as senior manager for both sites: Changwon and Seoul,” you announce. Wonwoo gasps and hugs you. “You can come visit me if you miss me too much, but I’d like to talk about moving some of my things to your apartment if you don’t mind.. I’m giving this place up.”
Wonwoo kisses you again and again, saying he’s proud of you and tells you that he’s going to start moving your things tomorrow. You tell him that you will still take the flight to Changwon in three days to check on your team, but you’ll most likely be back in a month.
You and Wonwoo spend hours talking about your plans, and somehow it reminds you of three years ago when Wonwoo had to leave. But this time, instead of hushed promises, you and him had plans: a timetable and a commitment to make it work this time.
Wonwoo randomly brings up the question of marriage and what would happen by the time you and him decide to tie the knot. You kiss him goodnight and tell him that you’ll cross the bridge when you get there. He asks if you would marry him if he asks you.
You say yes before you and him drift to sleep.
***
The flight back to Changwon took an hour at least. Your luggage weighs lighter compared to how heavy it was when you left six months ago.
There is a light, hopeful feeling in your chest as you push your luggage in the middle of the busy arrival area. Your phone dings, but you decide you’d check it later when you reach home.
Changwon is much, much warmer than Seoul, and you kind of forgotten because you wore a jacket before departing the city. Its salty air hits you as soon as you step out of the airport and suddenly, you’re reminded why you loved home so much.
The taxi stops right in front of you. The old man helps you with your luggage albeit light. You thank him and he asks you the address. His accent tells you you’re home.
Your phone dings again, and you pull out your phone this time.
The messages are from Wonwoo. The first one is a picture of him pouting with a caption “missing you already x”.
The second one is a message that makes your heart swell.
From: Wonuuu <3 Seoul is colder without you. Have a great time in Changwon, love. Trust that your Wonwoo will wait for you.
mark lee and joshua hong are the opposite type of youth pastor, like josh is all smiley at church and spends the rest of the week doing hard drugs in the basement of his friend’s cousin’s polycule’s house and blowing dudes in bar bathrooms, meanwhile mark lee has never even seen a marijuana and is saving his first kiss for marriage
soft spot
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: joshua hong x f.reader x yoon jeonghan
You never felt more alive than when you were dancing on stage. Crash from your high of performing on stage was absolutely brutal. You’re lucky to have two really great roommates who take care of you.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: roommates to lovers, friends with benefits, non idol au
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much angst, ballerina reader, body insecurity, mention of past eating disorder, emotional & kinda jealous joshua, unprotected sex, oral(both rec), anal, threesome, double penetration
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ??
an: I’m in need of some help working on this story. If anyone is interested please message me @straystarlost
if you would like to be tagged in this or any svt stories please fill out this form.
juno | l.hc
“one of me is cute, but two though…?”
💿now playing: juno by sabrina carpenter
❯ summary: Kids were never really something you thought about. But then you saw your sexy as fuck boyfriend playing uncle and now you can't stop thinking about giving him a baby of his own. What can you say...your hormones are high.
❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader
❯ genre: smut, established relationship
❯ words: 2.7k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don't do this!), swearing, breeding and pregnancy kink, possessiveness, dirty talk, begging, praise, creampie, slight angst not really idk, fluff, reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just the reader getting baby fever from seeing hyuck with kids (very real el oh el.)
an: i know this is like my third haechan post in a week, but i literally don’t care. sue me x
You didn’t want kids. Well, that’s not true. You were indifferent to kids.
That was until you saw your boyfriend with them. You didn’t think you could be more attracted to him, but then he had to go and check off the "great with kids" box. Maybe it’s just his playful side, but Lee Donghyuck is just so good with them.
And being forced to attend his niece’s first birthday party made you realise it. Honestly, you’d never given much thought to the idea of kids—cute yes, ready to give up endless nights of sleep, no.
But the minute after you walked through his childhood family home and were done greeting his parents and siblings, a swarm of kids ran at him, hugging his legs and stomach. And he just melted into them, so gentle and excited. It was cute and made you smile.
From then it was him letting his oldest niece cover his tanned cheeks in blush and stickers, to tossing a ball with his nephew after he announced he made the basketball team—and don’t even get started on him poking the chubby cheeks of his youngest niece, her soft giggles filling the backyard of the party.
It was like he was in his element—soft, loving, and completely at ease. And even though his nieces and nephews had other uncles and aunts, they’d always say Uncle Hyuck was their favourite—even if they weren’t supposed to.
You watch him from the patio door in the kitchen, overhearing him tell his dad he’s “too young to be having the adult conversations,” which was really code for ‘let me play with the kids.’
Running around, telling jokes, creating games. It had your stomach turning and—were your heart strings being pulled? Seeing this absolute perfect man, so caring and playful, living just to make those little ones laugh and smile, had you seriously considering the sleepless nights that might come with having some of your own.
Wait.
“He’s good with them, huh?”
You jolt, turning to see Hyuck’s sister standing behind you.
“Uh... yeah, I guess so,” you shrug. She steps beside you, and the two of you stand there, watching your boyfriend bounce his niece in his arms, soothing her gently.
She giggles, and you glance over at Hyuck’s sister again. “What?”
“Nothing,” she shrugs. “Just... you’re looking at him like you’re ready to add to the Lee family name.”
You gasp. “I am not!”
She gives you a knowing look, and you bite your lip, eyes shifting back to Hyuck. This time, he’s handing his niece a sippy cup, tapping her nose. Your chest tightens.
“Okay... I suppose he is good with them.”
Hyuck’s sister nods, humming in agreement. “He always has been. With every younger sibling, every cousin—even when I had my first daughter, Hyuck was the most excited.”
He’s sitting on the grass now, all his nieces and nephews swarming him, tickling him. He’s being extra dramatic, letting the younger ones tug at his hair just to make them laugh. You stare, warmth and wholesomeness filling you.
“He’d make a great dad, Y/N.”
The statement is completely sobering.
“Uh,” you stammer, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”
That’s not entirely true. You had spoken about it—once. You’d told him it wasn’t something you had planned for but weren’t necessarily opposed to, and the conversation had never come up again.
Hyuck’s sister blinks at you, clearly confused. “That’s crazy. Hyuck’s always said he wants to be a dad.”
Clearly.
There’s no denying that. It’s so obvious—every second he’s cupping up the kids, tickling them, teasing them. He looks so profoundly happy, so perfect. And it suddenly clicks for you.
This could be yours. Forever. He wants it. And now... you’re starting to think you want it, too. Him, this, forever. His kids. Your kids.
“Y/N! Y/N!” one of the younger kids calls, waving you over from across the backyard. “Can you play with us? We need more people to play the monsters. Uncle Hyuckie can’t do it on his own.”
And just like that, you’re being pulled away from the baby fever conversation and coaxed into joining them—not that it took much convincing. Your thoughts were starting to scare you a little. You’d never seriously thought about kids—until now.
Because you’d never seen Hyuck look more attractive than when he was playing dad.
“I can’t believe she’s one already,” Hyuck beams from where he’s stretched out on your bed. He’s been talking about the party nonstop since you got home. “Did you see the little bows in her hair? So fucking cute.”
You glance at him through the vanity mirror where you’re sitting, watching the way his face lights up, animated and so full of joy. There’s a warmth in your eyes, your lips curved into a soft smile as you take him in. He notices, raising an eyebrow.
“What’s that look for?”
You stand and walk over to him, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. His eyebrows knit together, more confused now.
“Y/N, what’s going on?”
You smile, sidestepping his question with one of your own. “Did you have fun today?”
“Yess…?” he replies, but there’s a trace of suspicion in his voice.
“Your family’s really nice.”
“Oh, are they now?” He squints playfully. “I saw you talking to my sister. I hope she wasn’t embarrassing me—she loves doing that.”
You shake your head with a giggle. “She wasn’t.”
“Okay…” he draws out. “Then what was she saying?”
“That you’d be a good dad. That you want to be a dad.”
Hyuck’s eyes widen and you mentally add this moment to the short list of times your boyfriend has been rendered completely speechless—still countable on one hand.
He coughs, his cheeks turning pink. “S-She said that?”
You nod, biting your lip to keep from laughing.
“And…what did you say back?”
You spread his legs out on the bed so you can slide between them, sitting there and looking up at him as he waits, eager for your response. He’s so cute like this—adorable, even—clearly dying to hear what you thought.
“I didn’t respond,” you admit honestly.
You catch the flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he covers it with a laugh—though it’s not genuine. You can tell he’s trying to brush it off, trying to pretend that he’d be okay with the possibility that you might not want that kind of future with him.
“She shouldn’t have said that,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I used to talk about it a lot as a kid. I don’t really think like that now. I can’t, you know… because of my job.”
“So you don’t want kids because of your job?” You ask. The tone in your voice takes him by surprise because now you’re the one sounding hurt.
“Baby... is this a trick question?” He laughs nervously.
You shake your head, crossing your arms across your chest. “No Hyuck. But I want you to answer it truthfully.”
He shrugs, looking unsure. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”
“You’re lying.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Baby, I don’t know what you want me to say—”
“The truth,” you insist.
He pauses, his gaze softening. “I love you, Y/N. You said kids weren’t really part of your plan, and that’s okay,” he begins, his voice steady but sincere. “And yeah, maybe I always kind of thought kids would be in mine, but then I met you. And you became my plan.”
You grab a hold of his hand and squeeze. It draws a genuine smile from him before he speaks again.
“I know we’ve never talked about it since. But I’m fine with anything—as long as it’s with you.”
You smile, his comment pulling at your heartstrings because you feel the exact same way.
“Those kids absolutely adore you, Hyuck,” you say and he gives a half smile.
“Well, I am their favourite Uncle.”
You trail a soft finger up and down the naked skin of his arm. His eyes follow your touch and that furrowed expression is on his face again.
“Y/N what’s going on with you? You’re confusing me—”
“You know—” you cut him off. “I think you’d be a great dad.”
He stares at you, properly taking you in. He’s never seen this side of you before, and you’ve never given him a compliment quite like that before. The thought of you being into the idea of him as a dad… well, he didn’t expect it to turn him on this much. Maybe it’s the way your fingers brush his arm? Yeah no, it’s not.
“Today made me realise something,” you say, shifting to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his neck now. He raises a curious brow, waiting. “You look so hot with kids. The thought of you being a dad is so fucking hot, Hyuck.”
Hyuck smiles at the confession, and his hands move to grip your ass as he ground your hips forward on himself. You let out a small gasp of surprise as you feel him.
“Please don’t joke like that, Y/N,” he whines, eyes squeezing shut. “Because I’ve been thinking about you being the mother of my kids since the day I met you.”
You giggle, biting your lip to stifle the soft moans escaping you as he grinds you slowly against his growing bulge.
“Well, why don’t you do something about it then,” you tease breathlessly, feeling the hardness of him through his sweatpants.
Hyuck’s mouth parts, caught somewhere between awe and shock, but before he can question how serious you are, your lips capture his, and your tongue is slipping inside his mouth to deepen the kiss.
The groan you both share is synchronised, and it’s all the encouragement he needs to flip you over, hovering above you with a renewed sense of urgency to make promise of your teasing.
His fingers hook into your panties, sliding them off as you shift upward against your pillows, tossing your nightgown aside. Hyuck strips out of his own clothes, desperate to press his bare skin against yours, his need overwhelming any sense of patience.
He kisses you back roughly, passionately. Fuelled by your impossible hotness and readiness to be fucked—fucked by him. Your tongue dips deeper and deeper into his mouth, never satisfied, craving more of him. You cling to him, your hands and legs moving over his skin, desperate to feel every inch. Your hips roll up, slickness coating his shaft, causing a rippling gasp to leave his mouth.
Hyuck pulls back with dark eyes. You—his girl—naked and desperate under him, begging him to do something about his baby fever—your baby fever. It’s the hottest shit he’s ever seen. His new favourite thing. His obsession. He loves seeing you like this, he decides—so willing, so desperate for him, for his cock. Needing him to bring you the pleasure only he can give. And he’ll make sure you remember that once you're carrying his child.
The image floods his mind—your stomach growing, swelling with his baby, the glow in your smile as you hold his child. A family, all with him. Only him. Because you want his kids.
The last thought pushes him over the edge, and with a low growl, he bites down on your neck, lips and teeth claiming your skin. He wants you marked by him—like always—but this time it’s different. It’s possessive. Primal. Feral. His saliva wet on your neck, dark bruises blooming over your breasts, his fingers burning prints into your hips, and his seed buried deep inside your soaking wet cunt.
His cock jumps when you roll your hips again, your whimpers causing him to groan and eyes roll back. You sound so desperate. Desperate to make him your forever.
“Hyuck—” you sob as his teeth graze your nipple, sending it hardening under his touch. “Please, I need to feel you.”
His eyes sparkle with lust as he drapes your legs over his waist and leans down, capturing your mouth in a long, needy kiss. He aligns himself with your slick pussy, your fingers clawing at his back as he slowly eases into you. He fills you completely, lifting your hips to bury himself deeper.
“So fucking pretty like this,” he mumbles, pulling away to admire the way you take his thick cock. “Taking me so well, always so good for me, aren’t you, baby?”
You moan as his cock hits every spot inside you—so deep, so hard, so good. Each thrust drags along your walls in a way that feels divine.
“Can’t wait until you’re mine, so full of me,” he whispers, kissing your neck. You whimper, your walls clenching at his words, urging him to quicken his pace. “Do you want that, baby? Want my cum inside this pretty pussy?”
“Yes—fuck yes—please.”
“Say it for me,” he requests softly, a gentle yet desperate edge in his voice. “Please tell me.”
“I want to be yours; make me yours,” you breathe out.
Hyuck's gaze drops to your lips, entranced by the words spilling from them. He thrusts harder, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer. Your cunt swallows his cock whole, turning his thrusts sloppy, and he groans.
You’re practically sobbing with how fast he’s driving into you, so close to seeing stars.
“You’re so good at taking me,” he praises, his breath ragged. “Gonna make me fill you.”
You squeeze around him, and the thought of cumming inside you sends a shiver through his thighs, making his breathing stutter.
“Yes! Fuck, please keep going,” You pant.
“Want you so full of me that it’s dripping down your leg. And then I’ll push it back in when I fuck you again.”
Your breaths grow louder and quicker, matching his as you both teeter on the edge. He kisses you deeply, your mouths suffocating each other as you grip his soft brown hair. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you tight.
“Hyuck—I’m gonna cum.”
“So fucking good, baby,” he moans in awe. “I’m going to fill you with my cum. I want you overflowing with my seed—fuck!” He grunts hoarsely, his body tightening with tension.
Your walls shatter around him, tightening and fluttering on his cock as you cum. Hyuck holds you close, so intimately, holding himself deep inside you as he feels the first spurts of his cum shooting from his cock.
He doesn’t stop, his hips still moving gently, making sure you take everything, softening each thrust with tender kisses along your bare shoulders. You sigh dreamily, fingers threading through his hair, and he smiles, still half-hard inside you. You’re exhausted, and the sight of your sleepy expression makes his heart twist. Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, and for a moment, you stay like that—so close, so intimate.
But as the post-orgasm bliss begins to fade, a flicker of panic flashes in his eyes.
“Fuck—” he mutters, pulling himself off of you quickly. There’s a gnawing feeling in his chest, a sudden guilt. “Y/N, I’m really sorry, I got caught up in the moment. Do you want me to run to the store—”
“No.” You shake your head and grab his arm, keeping him close. “I don’t want you to. If that’s okay…”
His eyes darken with lust before a slow smile spreads across his face.
“Y-yeah… that’s more than okay with me,” he says, nodding eagerly.
“Who knows?” You shrug with a teasing grin. “I might not even get pregnant this time.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “This time?”
You nod confidently. “Yeah, this time. Because we’re going to keep doing this until I am pregnant, Hyuck.”
His grin widens as he climbs back into bed, pulling you into his arms.
“I never thought I’d hear you say that, especially not when I woke up this morning,” he laughs, pressing soft kisses along your neck.
You giggle, leaning into his touch. “What can I say? Seeing you in dad mode made me so fucking horny.”
BIT BY BIT… 💭 anton lee socmed! au
pairing: college student! anton x campus crush! reader
genre: college! au, social media! au with written portions, slow burn, pining, strangers to friends to lovers.
series synopsis: in which the quiet girl in anton’s language class who seems to never sit with anyone catches his attention. anton makes it his mission to get closer to her bit by bit and break down her walls. the only issue? she’s the last to arrive and first to leave, never allowing anton the chance to approach her.
taglist is closed due to the limit!
profiles: anton & friends 🦕 | y/n & friends 🐈⬛
01: academic dishonesty
02: cupid seunghan
03: senor chang?
04: mismatched pyjamas
05: national braincell shortage
06: gapildeu
07: taking a bath
08: triple dog dare
09: eunseok’s toothbrush
10: anton’s being weird
11: dunkin’ donuts
12: three rules
13: oblivious genes
14: wonbin’s babygirl
15: do you have a boyfriend?
16: anton lee chanyoung
17: gastrointestinal issues
18: intruder?
19: valentine’s day!
20: fabs
21: march first
22: sungchan 101
23: competition day
24: happy 3 months
…
𖦹 rewind → anton lee ; social media au
pairing: college student! anton x old crush! reader
genre: college au, social media au, some written chapters, slow burn, crack, fluff
synopsis: anton had to give up on his fat crush on you after you left for america halfway through high school. 4 years later, he’s in a happy relationship and he’s ready to start his 2nd year at seoul national university. little does he know, you’ve finally moved back to korea.
warnings: swear words, bickering, slightly inappropriate/nsfw jokes, |<¥$ jokes,
start date: (ongoing!)
taglist: open!
profiles:
🎧 🦕 📸
chapters:
01 : disinfectant product fanatic
02 : gonna what anton kiss me?
03 : if only u were a likable student
04 : spill the beans
05 : you make me nervous shawty 🫦
06 : darkest corner of the room by the emergency exit
07 : resurface, reminisce, replay, rewind
08 : acid reflux
09 : love island usa
10 : i hate emo people
11 : i like hot single nerds
12 : feeling da fomo
13 : bona beef
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