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OMFG i was going crazy about the preview lenght and didn't know how to fix it TT thank you I fixed them all now lol

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Branmoor Anonymus Forum [2] Johnny Suh

Check part 1 first ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

pairing: frat!johnny x f!reader

genre: college AU, drama, gossip, academic rivals, slow burn, smut.

wc: 6k

warning: cursing, slight mentions of weed and alcohol, (almost caught) cunninglingus, strong language, unprotected sex.

Previously: Later that night, as you lie in bed, sleep doesn't come. The sky is already lightening up as the sun rises. You reach over to your bedside table and grab your laptop. You open the forum, biting your nails. I was slick this time right?

Top Post: "Johnny and Y/N host a Private debate on a Friday night" show chat: 136 replies Shit.

Deny, deny, deny

Going to lectures felt like torture. The stares tripled, and it wasn’t even surprising. Johnny was known for getting girls, sure, but apparently he was selective. And you weren’t exactly his usual type.

That made everything even weirder, according to the forum. Nobody was a hundred percent sure what happened in that guest room, but even the idea of you two interacting was enough to cause a stir.

Then came the usual hangout with the guys. Extremely humbling and awkward as hell. They wouldn’t tell you what was wrong, and you had to keep pretending you had no clue.

When you walked in, they stared at you, then at each other, then back at whatever they were doing before you barged in. You had to admit, maybe you weren’t so bad at acting, they actually looked like they were hesitating to bring up that rumor.

“What’s with your faces?” you say as you head to their small kitchen. “Are you going to be honest with us?” Yunho asks, hesitant. You lift your head from the freezer, an ice cream cup in hand. “Sure. Drop it.”

“Did you and Johnny, like…make out, or whatever?” You laugh at Yunho’s shyness. “I think the term you’re looking for is ‘make up,’” you say, walking toward the sofa. You are gaslighting better than any frat at this point.

“Did you two fuck?” Mingi cuts in. San and Wooyoung turn sharply to look at him. You stare for a second, then a smirk slips out.

“Why the hell would I fuck Johnny?”

You sound sincere enough that they almost believe you. “I don’t know, we don’t know. This could’ve been your plan all along.” Wooyoung teases.

“Yeah. Create all this drama, go to his party, make him invite me to his guest room, and fuck him. You got me.” You mumble, getting up.

What you actually did in that room was so not you that defending yourself almost felt easy.

“But like…the forum” San starts again, “they’re pretty sure you two didn’t just ‘resolve the problem,’ if you know what I mean.” The theory’s not far off, and you hate that it’s right.

“The same forum that said me and Yunho were hooking up?” You wave an arm toward the tall guy now minding his own business on the couch. You made your point.

Even if nothing had happened, people would still be suspicious. Like that theory of the dead or alive cat in a box. Or whatever it was called.

“Okay look…I’m sorry, but we just wanted to make sure.” San says, as the whole room gives out yeah’s and nods.

“Schrödinger’s cat” you say to yourself.

“…what?”

You storm out of the room, knowing they probably think you just lost your mind. You head straight to Johnny’s frat house and knock like your life depends on it.

Finally, the door swings open. Mark, apparently, is standing there, hair sticking up like he just rolled out of bed, smirking like he already knows exactly why you’re here.

“Where’s Johnny” you say before he can get a single word out. He lifts a lazy finger and points upstairs. You don’t say thank you and just step inside.

The house is weirdly quiet. It still smells like weed and cologne, but this time someone definitely tried to microwave something they shouldn't have.

As you move toward the stairs, a few of the guys drift into view. One walks past shirtless, holding a bowl of cereal, completely unbothered. Another is moving around slowly, with only one flip flop on, dragging his feet.

Then there's a guy with his hair tied into a tiny ponytail, like he didn’t expect a guest to get in - or in your case - burst in, blinking like he hasn’t seen daylight in a week.

But they all have the same look on their faces. More subtle than Mark’s, but still obvious. You recognize a few of them, but you have no time to start playing a guessing game.

You get on the top hallway and can’t help but cringe passing next to the guest room. Then you get near a slightly open door, seeing inside a frat and his girlfriend of the week making out, not even fazed by you opening the door.

Just when you close it and turn around, the tall figure of Johnny blocks your view. He looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Why are you here?”

You pull out your phone, showing him a screenshot you sent earlier that morning to your friends.

He smiles. Johnny doesn’t really read the forum, only checks when it’s about others. And things like this don’t budge him, not even a bit.

“Where’d you get that?” He points at the screen, but he’s still pretty close to you, so you just shift back a little. “Yunho sent it to me. Who did you tell?” You lower your voice at the last part.

He shakes his head “Nobody.” But you wait, staring, like you don’t believe him. He tilts his head. “I didn’t tell anybody. Didn’t have to.” Johnny moves down the hallway and you follow, interrogating him.

“So how did the rumor spread?” you say as he starts to open his room door, weirdly clean for a frat guy. You stay out of it. No way this was going to happen again.

He doesn’t answer, just leans on the doorframe. “You’re going to tell your ilchil freaks that we didn’t do anything but talk, and let this conspiracy theory die.” You keep pushing, but his face stays still, like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t matter.

“Conspiracy theory…” he repeats with a laugh, rubbing his fingers against his temples like he can’t believe you just said that.

You nod, serious. He looks down at you with a mix of amusement and disbelief, like it’s funny you’re even trying to spin it.

“You want me to lie?” He smirks like it’s a game, like you’re not about to be seen as just another one of Johnny’s many one night stands.

“Well yes, it was a mistake wasn’t it?” you answer, mocking him. What is he even thinking?

“But it happened. And it was a pretty good experience I’d love to share with my bros.” as you cringe, he grins proudly. “You fucking sicko. Don’t you see how this is going to taint me across the whole campus while you’re gonna be seen as a champ for it?”

“Why are you acting like you didn’t deliberately pull me into it? You could’ve ended it after the kiss, but ju-”

“Shut up. Shut it.” you cut him off, panicked, like there were spies just around the corner. Or you just didn’t want to replay that night in your head.

There’s no excuse, after all. You did make him kiss you again. And it did lead to…whatever happened then.

But luckily, he shuts up.

“Okay, how about you don’t tell anybody anything. Keep it neutral. It'll die off and I’ll be just fine. Alright?” Your voice is calmer now as you glance around the hallway, just to be sure.

He gets off the doorframe and brushes past you, like he’s dying to go tell his frat the whole thing. “Is that a yes?” you call out after him.

He just throws a thumbs up over his shoulder, not even looking back. You stare at his back helplessly, like you couldn’t imagine what he’d do next. Of course he was going to flex in front of his “bros”. That’s what frats do.

You leave the house anyway, holding onto the benefit of the doubt. You shoot Mark a nasty glare on your way out, he’s still lingering near the entrance, and he gives you this stupid grin.

Debate day

The more time passed, the more you realized the best way to let a rumor die was to simply pretend it never existed. With Yunho, it was trickier, since you two still spent a bunch of time together.

But with Johnny, it was surprisingly easier, probably because he kept going to hang outs, debates, or whatever, without flinching when someone brought up your name or what happened that Friday night.

He definitely still went to parties, but it was like he became celibate all of a sudden. He’d no longer make out with some random pretty chick twenty minutes in, no more taking girls upstairs.

You - on the other end - avoided spending your free time at campus. Went to parties with your friends, dressed freely, drank, a lot.

You still went to lectures, sure, just groggy, like the professor’s words barely registered. And when you hung out with At ease - yes they kept the name - you played the silent role.

The forum didn’t bother you anymore, not really. You’d logged off completely.

Sure, you’d probably miss whatever drama blew up next, especially when it had nothing to do with you. But staying out of it felt safer.

So this time, you didn’t have to pretend to be clueless when people whispered. Didn’t have to fake being surprised when eyes lingered a little too long.

You knew. And frankly, you were over it.

The debate meetings had gotten dull. Irritating, even. Everything bothered you now, especially if Johnny walked in. Or any Ilchil frat boy, really. And then came today’s debate.

You glanced at the name across the schedule and sighed before it even registered.

Renjun.

Great.

You didn’t hate Renjun. Not at all.

But you did hear, from San, - who was supposedly a friend of a friend of Jeno that has connection with Jaemin - that Renjun might be one of the countless anonymous posters fueling the gossip around you.

And the thing with Renjun was, you could believe it. He noticed things most people didn’t. Had a sharp tongue when he wanted.

Mic Girl checks her notes. “Today’s topic: Should morality and emotion play a role in achieving success?”

“Renjun will argue yes. Y/n will argue no.” There’s a small beat of tension. Someone in the back mutters. Renjun stands first. He doesn’t hesitate.

"Success without emotion or morals isn’t really success. It’s just winning for the sake of it. People forget that how you get there matters just as much as getting there at all."

He speaks gently, but with purpose.

"Empathy keeps us human. Morals keep us accountable. If we throw those out just to win, what are we even chasing?"

He looks like he means it. A few people nod.

Then you rise. After all those debates, there’s no need to keep a poker face, today, you’re already pissed. Your face stays still and you speak clearly.

“Success doesn’t care how you feel.”

The back row goes completely silent. A guy who usually comes here only for the drama, actually straightens in his chair.

“If emotions and morals helped people win, more kind people would be at the top. They’re not.”

You glance toward Renjun, “You’re not rewarded for being good. You’re rewarded for being smart, sly, even, and ready to do what others won’t.”

A subtle shift in the room. The kind where people realize you didn’t come to discuss. You came to win, not only because it was Renjun. Because you needed to shift your mind somewhere more important.

“Kindness slows you down. Guilt stops you. Morals get in the way when the job calls for things that aren’t fair.”

You pause. It’s deliberate. A few people mutter under their breath.

You could see Johnny in the front row for a brief second, he looked intrigued. He knew you could handle a debate. But he’d never seen you go that hard. Not even in the guest room. Not even on him.

Mic Girl adjusts her clipboard slightly. Renjun watches, jaw a little tighter. Silent. He stands again, a little straighter now. “If you have to give up who you are to get what you want, is it even worth it?”

You answer before Mic Girl can even prompt you. “It is, If you're willing to hurt for it.”

The front rows are dead quiet. Even the usual girl who writes down her notes stops, pen still in her hand. You were probably too focused to notice in the moment, but afterward, you looked over the front row.

Yunho looked at you like you’d suddenly become Johnny, but somehow, more evil spirited.

Wooyoung’s concern was harder to miss, like he couldn’t quite decide if it was impressive or simply ruthless.

And the rest of the debate club? No one made eye contact. Just waited for the screen to light up, with your name written all over it.

Then mic girl comes to the rescue. “Last call to vote, you’ve got thirty seconds.” Some people whisper, quiet guesses, half jokes.

You just sit there, eyes fixed on the untouched water bottle you usually drink till it’s empty. The screen refreshes, then there's that satisfying beep.

WINNER: Y/N (NO) – 84%

The room reacts instantly. A burst of applause. A few shocked laughs. Someone from the back lets out a low whistle. Even some ilchil frat members clap, a bit thrown off but still impressed.

Renjun doesn't look at the screen. He’s still got that half tight expression, like he’s trying not to take it personally. Like maybe he already has.

And Johnny?

He leans back in his seat. Arms folded and chin tilted just slightly. He doesn’t clap. He just watches you with a faint smirk, oh, he’s entertained.

They’re doing too much.

That’s all you could think as you looked out at the audience.

What used to feel like a room full of judges, watching your every move, now felt like a crowd at an award show.

Sure, you were satisfied. But it almost felt like the humbling experience you’d gone through these past two months was about to disappear, just like that.

At that moment, it’s not like you wanted to isolate yourself, but you also weren’t about to let the same people who came after you suddenly act like they were your biggest supporter this whole time.

Once you get up and leave the auditorium, Johnny stops you, like he followed you before you could disappear like the last few days.

“So when are you going to debate like this with me?” He’s playful, but only a smirk forms on his face. He fixes up his collar.

Johnny is unapologetically charismatic, you have to admit that unfortunately.

You lean with your back against the wall. “If you are going to make me extremely mad.” you say as you search for your dorm key, a sign you have to go.

“Doesn’t sound that difficult to me.” This time he smiles.

“Great then.” You lift yourself up, a little awkward because it’s weird not to be in a hostile position with Johnny.

“Y/n.” he stops you, his voice low, and just looks you dead in the eyes. “We can keep playing rival if that’s easier for you, but just know it won’t stick for long”.

You stare at him, then shake your head as you pass by. “Fuck you too, I guess.” he blurs out, poking his cheek with his tongue. You look back at him, a mix of annoyance and amusement.

A hold back smile forms on your lips, like you're trying not to let him have the satisfaction. But you fail. He's watching you from the side and smiles back, just a little. You immediately turn away, your ears turning reddish as you walk down the hallway.

In the dorms

"You didn’t let that poor soul speak" Yunjin says, tossing a handful of peanuts into her mouth as she lounges on the giant beanbag in the corner of her dorm.

Yunjin wasn’t part of your usual debate circle, you’d figured you lacked a solid female friendship on campus and thought it might be good to build one, especially if it meant taking a little space from your group. And lately, that felt necessary.

You’re slumped on the couch, one leg dangling off the side, still wearing your debate outfit.

Poor soul, you mock in your head, barely holding back an eye roll.

"Renjun talked enough" you mutter, reaching for the soda can on the coffee table. Still, maybe you did steamroll a little.

Yunjin throws a pillow at your legs from her spot on the beanbag. “So…what’s up with Suh?”

She’s started calling him that lately instead of Johnny, like using his last name might somehow trigger less of a reaction from you.

You don’t look at her. “Nothing’s up.”

“Sure…” she says, dragging the word out. “…you two smiling at each other like that earlier was definitely nothing.”

You sit up, straightening your posture like you're about to issue an official statement. “Don’t you start too. Mingi keeps trying to push this agenda, it’s not going to work.”

Yunjin raises both hands in mock surrender. “Hey, if multiple sources are reporting the same thing…” she glances meaningfully at the open page of the forum on her laptop, “…maybe it’s time to consider the possibility.”

“Possibility of what?” you ask, finally turning to look at her, already over this narrative like you’re trying to bury whatever great moment you accidentally had with Johnny.

“Of fucking” she says flatly, looking at you like she has duh stamped on her forehead.

“You’re gross.” You stand up, chucking the pillow back at her, and head toward the door, conveniently already open.

“And you are in denial!” she yells after you as you walk past the other dorm rooms, pretending you don’t hear her.

After hours duty

Precisely one week after the party, you were just doing one of the secretaries a favor, sorting some old folders after hours, because apparently, you have a chronic inability to say no to them.

You were inside of a random office tucked into the back corner of the admin’s area, somewhere between the printer room and where the student files collected dust, if you had to guess. The door was cracked open for air. Since you hadn’t expected anyone to come by.

Least of all, him.

“Johnny? What are you even doing here?!” you ask, startled, you see his head peek in, his usual smug expression already loading.

He steps fully inside, closing the door behind him. “I could ask you the same thing. This is a restricted area, Miss Intern.”

“I’m volunteering.” you mutter, already stacking the folders a little faster. “You can’t be in here. The hallways have security cams, you know that, right?”

“Do you know that?” he teases, walking slowly around the room like it’s his. Like he isn’t clearly breaking ten rules just by being here.

“Don't start.” you warn, narrowing your eyes at him as he rounds the desk. “You seriously need to go. If someone sees you—”

“Then what? You don’t want to give them another reason to be suspicious?” he teases, hands suddenly finding your waist.

You slightly swat at him, but he’s already guiding you backwards gently. “Stop, stop. Are you insane?” you laugh, barely managing to whisper. “Someone could come in.”

He lifts you onto the edge of the secretary’s desk like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “They won’t.” he says. “Probably.”

Your heart stutters. He’s way too close and gives you a quick peck on the lips. The hallway light flickers once. “Johnny.” you say, trying to sound stern and completely failing because you’re grinning like an idiot.

The skirt you wore wasn’t helping, his hands slid to your thighs, parting them just slightly, as he kneels. Your breath catches. “Get up, we’ll get in trouble."

He looks up at you, eyebrows raised. You could easily get off the desk and leave him hanging there, but you didn’t.

He just moves your panties to the side, and presses his mouth to your core, slow at first, then deeper, firmer, like he’s set on making you fall apart right there on some clueless secretary’s desk.

Your hand flies to his hair before you even realize it, the other bracing against the desk as your head tips back. A tiny, shaky sound escapes your lips, helpless.

“Johnny.” you whisper again, a warning, a plea, you’re not even sure anymore.

He hums against you and it makes your legs tremble, so his hands tighten on your thighs, holding you firmly.

You press the back of your hand to your lips to keep quiet, eyes flicking to the door, and realize it's the guest room situation all over again, this time's riskier.

He presses against your clit, just once, and your body jolts like you’ve been shocked. His grip shifts, one thumb now rubbing in tight circles while his tongue keeps working you open.

“Fuck.” you breathe out, not even pretending to be in control anymore.

Then the doorknob shifts. A faint creak.

You freeze, heart in your throat. Johnny’s up in seconds, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as if nothing happened, leaning one arm on the desk beside you with practiced ease.

You, in the mean time, jump down and grab the nearest folder off the surface, still shaky, straightening your skirt, praying your face isn’t as flushed as it feels.

Both of you barely have time to breathe before Mr. K - one of the older secretaries - steps fully inside. He stops mid step when he sees Johnny. He squints slightly, “Why are you here?”

You speak before Johnny can open his mouth. “He had to ask something quickly, for the debate club.” Your voice is impressively steady.

There’s a pause. Then Mr. K just nods, “Ah. Right.” He checks the clipboard in his hand, barely looking at either of you now. “Just don’t forget to lock up when you’re done. I’m heading out.”

“Yes, sir.” you both say at the same time, a little too quickly. He leaves and the door shuts behind him.

Silence. You don’t even look at Johnny, you can feel the smirk radiating off him.

“I hate you” you whisper, face hot. He leans in, “You were close, weren’t you?” You don’t answer and just shove him toward the door. “Get out.”

Old news

You’re halfway through your yogurt while pretending to study, when Yunjin throws herself face first onto your bed like your dorm suddenly became hers too.

“I'll take it back.” she says, turning on her laptop. “All of it.” You blink. “What now?”

She rolls over, flopping dramatically onto her back. “I’m sorry for teasing you about Johnny, okay?” You narrow your eyes at her, suspicious. “What happened?”

She spins her laptop so you can see the screen. The forum. Of course.

A new post is already blowing up.

Top Post: “Johnny’s been sneaking off campus lately” show chat: 74 replies

Then she reads a line. “...It could be for a girl, but definitely not y/n y/l/n. She’s old news, Johnny doesn’t stick with one girl that long.”

Your stomach flips.

“He’s been leaving randomly, according to Redherr75…” Yunjin says, scrolling. “…and some anon in the replies said they saw him at a café last week. Like he was checking for somebody.”

Yunjin shrugs like it’s whatever. “Sorry for pushing the whole 'secret makeout' narrative. I mean, it was fun, you know that.” She pats your head like she’s proud of herself.

You hum in response, but your brain’s already somewhere else.

Need a Ride?

The monthly debate conference wraps late, as usual, always held in some random building on the edge of the city for god knows what reason.

“Y/n, is nobody picking you up? It’s dark.” one of the members asks from the car window.

“Yes, don’t worry. I already asked San this morning.” you reassure him, waving as he gives you an approving nod.

The car drives off, and now everyone else is gone, but you’re still here, texting San nonstop, cursing under your breath and hoping he’ll answer. He’s supposed to give you a ride. Apparently, he forgot.

That’s when you turn around. In the parking lot, Johnny leans on his car, jingling his keys.

“Jump in.” he says, like it’s not a big deal. You hesitate. But your phone’s battery is low, and the street’s getting too quiet for your liking.

So you sigh and slide into the passenger seat of his ridiculously huge black Jeep that could fit his whole frat if he wanted.

The first few minutes are quiet. Music low. City lights flickering past. You watch the road, trying to avoid his gaze, until you feel it too much.

He turns his face toward you. You can see it from the corner of your eye. “Keep your eyes on the road.” you mutter, not looking at him.

He doesn’t turn back right away. “I will. Once you stop looking like you’re about to bolt.” You look at him “I’m not.”

“You are.” he says, his hand still steady on the wheel. “You’ve been on edge since the second you got in.”

You keep looking at him, your expression sharp. “Say what you want to say or shut up.”

He glances at you. His jaw tightens. And then he pulls over.

The car slows and turns off into an empty side street, parking beneath a streetlamp. The music is still playing, low, like background noise.

“You really need to drop that attitude, you know?” he says, voice more serious now, like he’s actually tired of your rivalry.

You scoff, turning slightly toward the window. “Didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

“I’m not.” he shoots back, sharper this time. “I’m just over the act. One second you’re ready to rip my head off, the next you’re looking at me like you want to kiss me again.”

“You kissed me.” you correct him.

He laughs, dry. “Right. Sure, let’s go with that.”

You cross your arms. “Whatever. It’s not like you’re short on options lately.” He glances at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You don’t look at him. “Just saying…rumors get around.” You try to keep your tone casual, but it comes out stiff. “Disappearing off campus, hanging around Ilchil girls, people are talking.”

Johnny exhales through his nose, clearly annoyed. “People always talk. You know that better than anyone.”

You shrug, still facing the window. “Well, congrats. I’m officially old news. You don’t have to worry about us looking suspicious anymore.” There’s a pause. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting.

“You think I’ve been sneaking off to see someone else?” he says finally.

Your throat tightens. “Aren’t you?” He doesn’t respond right away. The silence is overwhelming.

Then he lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “What the hell.” You turn to look at him. “What?” He shakes his head, knuckles tightening on the wheel. “Forget it.”

“No.” you say, sharper now. “Say it.” His jaw clenches. “The only reason I’ve been off campus is because I’ve been looking for you, dumbass.”

That shuts you up.

“You think I just magically show up at bookstores or niche cafés only you know about?” His voice drops, quieter now, like it’s something he shouldn’t be admitting.

“I don’t just run into you, Y/n.” You stare at him, stunned. He exhales again, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’d help me if you actually stayed on campus for once in your fucking life.”

You shift slightly in your seat, arms still crossed. “If you’d told me…” you murmur, barely audible, “I would’ve appreciated it. Just…hanging out with you.”

He blinks, surprised, but doesn’t say anything. Just leans a little closer, one hand moving to the back of your headrest, brushing so close you feel the warmth of his skin.

You look at him, his eyes are sultry.

And then it happens, quietly, like something inevitable, like you knew you’d meet his lips again.

His mouth is on yours, soft at first, almost unsure. But then you kiss him back, and something switches, his hand comes up, fingertips brushing your jawline, holding you there like he’s afraid you’ll pull away again.

The kiss deepens, messy now, a little desperate. Your hand slips into the collar of his hoodie, pulling him in, and he exhales against your lips, like the tension finally left his body.

Neither of you says anything.

You shift on top of him, and he exhales hard, eyes flicking down to your mouth like he’s about to lose patience.

“Just kiss me” he mutters, voice low, needy.

And you do - harder - with no hesitation. His hands slide up beneath your shirt, fingers pressing into your back, pulling you down against him like he needs more contact.

You rock your hips against him once, barely, and he groans into your mouth, grip tightening.

You drag your lips along the curve of his neck, too wrapped up in the way his body reacts to every single thing you do. Your hands are under his hoodie now, palms pressed against his skin, and he’s mouthing at your collarbone.

Your body moves without thinking, hips rolling just slightly, and his head drops back against the seat, a low groan slipping out that makes your skin burn. You keep kissing his neck, considering a hickey, maybe two.

But then your phone vibrates. Loud against the cupholder.

Johnny kisses the corner of your mouth, softly. “Ignore it.” But your eyes dart down at the screen lighting up. ‘San’.

He grabs your face gently, fingers along your jaw, eyes locked with yours. “Ignore it.” He repeats.

And for some reason, you listen.

You don’t think twice, you just toss the phone back into the cupholder like it never rang. Like San never called.

The second it’s out of sight, Johnny’s mouth is back on yours. You lean into him, rolling your hips again, and he reacts fast. His hands now grip beneath your waist, shifting you against him like he needs more.

He sucks a breath through his teeth, head tipping back slightly when your mouth finds his collarbones.

Your thighs tighten around his hips as you pull your shirt off, the cool air hitting your skin for only a second before his hands are on you again, worshipful.

You tug his hoodie up, fingers skimming the skin underneath, and he lifts it off, trying his best not to break the kiss. His hands return immediately, tracing your back, your sides, settling at your waist like he's grounding himself.

Your breath catches when his mouth moves lower, kissing down your chest. His eyes light up, “C’mon.” he whispers against your mouth.

Then - without warning - his whole arm wraps around your waist, and he lifts you up in one smooth motion like you weigh nothing.

With his free hand, opens the door, and steps out briefly. “Hey—what the—??” you laugh, surprised, clinging to his shoulders.

He pops the back door open. He doesn’t answer, just smirks, only to set you down gently on the wide back seat. He shuts the door behind him, then climbs in right after.

He takes off your panties and your pulse jumps when his hands slide beneath your skirt, fingers curling with firm intent.

He shifts positions, easing back against the leather seat, dragging you into his lap once again.

You let out a breathy sound, knees bracketing him, his grip settles on your hips, and he looks up at you with a crooked smile, voice rough in that way that always gets to you.

“Now that’s better.” he says simply, like it’s obvious. You give a shaky laugh, arms looping around his neck instinctively.

You’ve waited long enough, you want more. One hand slides down his neck, all the way to his crotch, where he’s clearly bulging.

You look at him like you’re in control now. But with Johnny, you never really are. He lets you unzip him, lets you touch over his boxers, but then shifts you closer.

Your wet slit slides over his cock, back and forth, teasing, but he’s teasing. You move with him, heart pounding.

His thumbs press into your waist, guiding you gently, but his expression is intense, hungry, but patient. Like he’s going to break you in slowly.

One hand grips his broad shoulder, the other finds his face. You kiss him softly, like your lips are finally kissing for him, not just for you.

“I want you inside.” you whisper against his mouth, desperate. He wraps a hand around his length and positions you above him. You slide down, but he fills you up fast.

“Relax.” he murmurs. Johnny’s big, everywhere, and he knows it. He also knows not everyone can take all of him when they’re the one riding.

You tilt your head back, eyes closed, a hum slipping from your throat. He holds your hips and guides you deeper, letting out a low moan as he sinks in. His eyes are on your body, watching the way you take him, then finally meet yours as you exhale a shaky breath.

You breathe out slowly, trying to ease the tension in your thighs, but it’s hard when every inch of him is stretching you out like this. He lets you adjust, his fingers stroking slow circles into your hips like he has all the time in the world.

“You’re doing good” he says low, his voice a little rough now. “So good.”

That does something to you. You sink down a little further, clenching around him, and his breath catches. Your hands brace on his chest, and you start to move, not fast, but enough to feel him drag against your walls.

He groans, deep, right in your ear, and it makes you do it again. “You like that?” you whisper, teasing already knowing the answer.

Johnny looks up at you, jaw clenched like he’s trying not to lose it already. “Don’t get cocky.” he mutters, but his hands tighten on your waist.

You roll your hips deliberately, slow and steady, just to push him. His head falls back for a second, and you take the opportunity to lean down, and kiss along his neck, sucking softly where his pulse jumps.

“Fuck–” he hisses. “Keep doing that.” He closes his eyes, jaw tight, like he’s trying to stay composed, but you know he’s feeling everything.

Your thighs burn and you’re losing your pace, but you don’t stop. Not when it makes him feel this good. Not when every little sound he makes drives you even deeper into it.

You lean forward, forehead pressed against his, breathing heavily. “Johnny…” you whisper, not even sure what you’re trying to say. His hands grip your hips tighter, grounding you. “I got you.” he whispers back, opening his eyes, locking onto yours. Then he moves, his hips thrusting up, meeting you halfway, deeper.

You gasp, sharply, and he does it again, consistent.

Now he’s helping you ride him, guiding your body with his, finding a rhythm that makes your back arch. “That’s it.” he groans. “Take it.”

You can’t respond. You’re too busy gasping, riding out the feeling of being so stretched and so close to falling apart. Your hands clutch his shoulders, your mouth pressed to his skin, whispering something like his name, over and over.

It’s deeper now. Sharper. Every thrust pushes a moan out of you, every drag of him inside you makes your walls clench harder around him. You’re a mess in his lap, and he loves it.

His hands slide from your hips to your ass, squeezing hard as he thrusts up again, rougher now. He keeps going consistently, his rhythm steady even as you fall apart in his hands.

You feel your stomach sink, and the heat spreads through your chest, your fingertips, the back of your throat. He watches you, focused. “Come on, baby.” That’s all it takes.

Your head is thrown back, thighs shaking, walls pulsing around him. You whine as you feel yourself break open. And Johnny is right there with you, moaning your name as your body wraps just right, around him.

You ride out every last wave, collapsing forward against his chest. He holds you there, kisses your shoulder softly, and you feel him twitch inside you.

Then he groans, low and guttural, spilling into you, his grip tightening like he doesn’t want you to move an inch. He presses a kiss to your temple. You smile, still catching your breath, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest.

You stay like that for a moment, sweaty and breathing hard. His heart pounds against yours. His arms are still around you, firm but gentle. Your cheek rests against his shoulder.

“It’s getting late.” he whispers to your ear, caressing your bare back. But you don't move. He just keeps holding you like the stillness might break if he lets go. You exhale, fingers curling against his chest. “We should go, then.”

“We could stay a minute...” he murmurs. “…or two.” You don’t answer. Just keep your eyes closed.

Then you sigh and admit, “I read countless posts about you on the forum, you know that?” You look at him, your eyes tired. He just listens.

“Are you really like they say?” you ask lightly, but there’s worry in your eyes. Like you don’t want to leave this, not anymore. “Why don’t you just stick around and find out?” he says, voice calm, reassuring.

You smile and glance out the window. “Now?” you laugh softly. “No. Let the days pass. Then make a choice. I can wait.” He looks at you, sincere in a way that catches you off guard, like he really doesn’t want this to be just a fling. “Deal?”

You hide your smile, a little flustered. “Deal.”

He reaches up and brushes your hair from your face, pulling you in. You settle your head into the crook of his neck, letting your eyes shut.

tag list: @haechanahceah67 @thisiswhyiwit @hyuckiegirlfriend @johnjaesblog @lovesuhng @featjunranghae @completelyjae @httpsxnox @jae-no @namjoonsl3ftnippl3 @lovesuhng @strawbeecat @21497s

thank you for the reblogs <3

a/n: I actually spent my almost non existent free time finishing off the draft of the 2° part i thought i never would have posted TT, so i hope you also enjoy this part too !!

[suhsse]

branmoor forum is si dammmmn gooooood!! like you write it so well and I think this might be one of the top Johnny fics I have ever read on tumblr!!! pls consider writing part 2 bc this debate club is the best concept for Johnny omg

First of all thank you so much, it means a lot to me TT, and thank you guys for the support in general <3 i hit 50 followers YAY

Also, I have an unhealthy obsession with Johnny lol, so the part 2 is definitely coming !!

#suhsse

[suhsse]

Branmoor Anonymous Forum - Johnny Suh

pairing: frat!johnny x f!reader

genre: college AU, drama, gossip, academic rivals, slow burn, smut.

wc: 12k

warning: cursing, alcohol, small mention of weed, heavy gossip, arguing, toxic dynamics, rough language, power imbalance / slight dubcon, unprotected sex.

synopsis: “When your name starts lighting up on Branmoor Anonymous, - the student gossip forum - everyone’s suddenly curious about the unknown girl who showed up late and walked straight into one of the most brutal side projects on campus, the Debate Club, right under the domain of the obnoxious Johnny from the Ilchil frat house.”

The clubs

At Branmoor University, picking a side project is a must: arts, music, theatre, even cheerleading. It’s worth a few credits and supposedly shapes your future. You transferred in late, four months behind everyone else, aiming to survive one of the toughest colleges around without getting pulled into its messy drama.

No sorority rivalry, no frat house nonsense, just a quiet side project and weekends partying with your usual friends out of town.

So now you’re in your dorm. The walls around you are bare, waiting to be decorated. A bunch of boxes sit unopened in the corners, and your desk lamp casts a soft glow over your laptop and an empty takeout container.

You’re sitting on your bed, phone pressed to your ear. Outside, the faint hum of campus life filters through the window. “Okay, so...what about theatre? You loved Heathers” your friend’s voice buzzes through the speaker.

You smirk, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, but I can’t act for shit. Remember the school play? No way I’m doing that again.” “Alright, fine. Cheerleading?” Your friend’s grin is audible. “You could totally pull off those skimpy fits.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Can’t do the splits...and I’m way too uncoordinated to catch anyone.” You sigh and glance at the list of side projects on your laptop screen: music club, art society, environmental group, and finally, Debate Club.

“Debate?” your friend raises an eyebrow. “That’s…intense. You sure?” You bite your lip, scrolling through the club’s homepage. “Yeah. I’ll try it out. It has fewer participants, too. Honestly, I just want something to keep some credits.”

There’s a pause on the line, then your friend laughs softly. “Alright. Just don’t get into any shouting matches on day one.” You smile to yourself. “I’ll try” and click ‘Join.’

You had debates every week on Wednesdays. You scrolled through the club’s page, trying to figure out if this was just some geeky, pretentious club or something actually serious, with people who were literate and mature enough to carry a real argument.

You couldn’t see any member profiles, which seemed weird. But then you get distracted by a link at the bottom of the page. It looked like something off a sketchy dark web forum: plain text, small font, black background. You clicked it.

Immediately, a password box popped up. No explanation. You stared at the screen, wondering what could possibly be so top secret. The only thing visible was the URL: branmoor.student.forum.com

You brushed it off. Could’ve just been some registration portal or something for admins. But…why the lock? Shaking it off, you jumped off the bed and got dressed.

Out in the hallway, muffled music and bursts of laughter spilled out from the rooms around you. Just as you turned the corner, one of the doors swung open.

A tall, stunning girl stepped out, mid laugh. She stopped cold when she saw you. Almost like she was waiting for you to say something.

“…Hi?” you offered, unsure if this was a greeting or an obstacle. “You new?” she asked bluntly.

You nodded, silently begging her to just move aside and let you pass. “Didn’t hear from you. What’s your name, then?” She already had her phone out.

“Y/n. I got here yesterday.” She looked up from her phone. “Yesterday? Did you sign up for a project? They close like…in three days.” Her tone shifted, suddenly a little less regina george and a little more genuinely concerned. “Yeah. Debate.” She blinked. Stared. As if you’d just announced your pregnancy.

“You’re playing, right?” She let out a smile, like you’d made the dumbest joke ever. You looked around, confused. “No? Why...is it inactive or something?”

She shook her head, fighting a laugh. “Oh girl…thoughts and prayers.” And then came that smirk. The kind that said something hilarious was about to happen, and it was going to happen to you.

Back in your room, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. What was so funny? Why did she act like you’d signed your own death certificate? There were, like, what, ten people on the forum? How was it that serious?

Or worse…Did you just accidentally walk into a misogynistic, debate incel club? You had to do something. Maybe you were overreacting, but you had to be prepared for the worst.

So, you did what any rational person would do, watched a deep dive of YouTube videos titled “How to Win Every Argument”, “Debate Like a Lawyer”, and “Debate Club Tips THEY Don’t Want You To Know.” You even skimmed old Reddit threads and niche forums. Hours passed. Your food got cold.

Debate Day

You’ve already walked past the Arts building twice. According to the email, Debate Club is in Auditorium B, which is buried beneath the Humanities wing, down a hallway.

You hesitate a second before pushing the door open. The room’s packed. Students lean forward in their chairs with coffees, snack bags, and there’s even one girl with a color coded notebook open like she’s prepping for law school finals.

You weren’t ready for this. This isn’t the boring, easy credit side project you thought it would be. There was an audience. You slip into a seat near the back, trying not to draw attention.

There are at least fifty people here. Around ten of them sit at the bottom near the front, positioned like they're waiting for a panel show to begin. Two face each other across a narrow table.

One is adjusting his notes, posture upright, face unreadable. The other is kicked back in his chair, one arm slung over the backrest like he owns the place, a crooked grin already on his face.

The moderator, a girl, with a mic clipped to her collar, steps forward. “Alright. Welcome back, everyone. Today’s topic: Do institutions do more harm than good?” She looks down at her notes. “Johnny will argue yes. Yunho will argue no.”

There’s a flicker of reaction in the room, a few muffled voices, some knowing glances. The guy with the notes, Yunho, breathes out slowly and stands. You can tell immediately that this guy’s trained.

When he starts speaking, he’s calm, clear, you catch pieces like “accountability” “structure” “systems meant to outlast failure.” His hands don’t move much, he isn’t flashy. Just precise.

By the time he sits down, a few heads are nodding. The girl with the notebook underlines something. Then Johnny rises. No notes. No need. He gives the audience a lazy smile.

He leans into the mic, speaking low and smooth. “Institutions say they help” he begins. “But mostly, they protect themselves.”

Pacing just enough to draw eyes, he mentions reform, how it always sounds good, but rarely means anything. How real change comes from pressure.

The audience is into it. You are too, even if you’re not sure where you stand. Yunho jumps back in. More rebuttals. More logic. Something about successful systems.

Johnny shrugs, says something like “You don’t rebuild a machine that was built broken.” A few students actually clap. You found it a little bit dramatic, but apparently they love it here.

And just like that, it’s over. The moderator raises her hand. “We’ll hold audience questions for the end. For now, we’ll put it to vote.”

She gestures toward a QR code projected behind her, and phones come out like lightning.

You watch Johnny sit back down like nothing happened. Yunho refocuses, eyes on the screen, jaw tight. You don’t know who’s going to win. Honestly? It doesn’t even matter.

What the hell did you just get yourself into?

The moderator taps her mic again. “Last call to vote, you’ve got thirty seconds.” Some people whisper guesses. You just stare at the projected screen like it’s going to explain what you’ve just witnessed. And you can’t help but awe at the work put behind this club.

The screen refreshes with a sharp beep.

WINNER: JOHNNY (YES) — 72%

The room reacts instantly, applause, laughter, a few groans from Yunho’s fans.

Johnny grins in mock victory from his seat. You swear he winks at someone in the third row. Yunho doesn’t flinch, instead he just gathers his notes in silence, like he’s already thinking about the next round.

You’re halfway to standing and leave the auditorium, when a voice stops you, quiet but direct.

“Hey.” You turn. There’s a guy a few feet away. Wearing a black button down, calm like a statue. The name tag clipped on him reads:

Kun - Debate Club President

“You’re the new member?” he asks, calmly. You nod, your backpack strap still slung over one shoulder.

He glances toward the front row, where one chair sat suspiciously empty, next to other members that you now realize weren’t random students, but actual club participants.

“You should’ve sat in the front” he says simply. “Even if you weren’t debating today. That’s where members sit. You watch from the front line. You learn from there.”

You blink. “Oh, I didn’t know.” He just nods, not judging, just…factual. “You will next time.” You pause. “Next what?”

He levels his eyes at you. “Next debate. You’re paired against Wooyoung.” Your stomach drops a little. You’ve barely been here 72 hours. Kun checks his phone, then looks up. “You’ve got a week.”

And with that, he turns and walks down the aisle toward the exit like it’s just another day. You’re left standing there, still holding your backpack, realizing you might be cooked.

2 AM

It’s late. Your phone buzzes on your desk. No contact name. No notification banner. Just a single text:

link: [https://branmoor.student.com] the password: Teainapot346! Have fun ;)

You stare at it.

That weird locked link from the Debate Club site flashes back in your memory, the one at the bottom of the page, protected like a government secret. You hesitate. Then click. The screen flashes once, then loads.

The site looks ancient, apparently never updated, glitchy gradients, and blinking headers.

“Welcome to Branmoor Anonymous Forum, the unofficial, student only gossip board!” You raise one eyebrow, intrigued.

At the top of the homepage, a banner blinks aggressively:

What’s Today’s Gossip?

You click. Out of morbid curiosity. Probably to laugh at someone’s campus situationship drama or a fight at the dining hall. Instead, your smile fades.

Top Post: “WHO TF IS BACK ROW GIRL???” show chat: 34 replies

[anon]: She didn’t even sit with the Debate Club members, she's so lost

[keylime77]: if I transferred in mid semester and ended up in the debate with Johnny I’d end it infront of the whole audience

[anon]: she didn’t even take notes….

[prttyme2]: Wooyoung is her match next week??? girl’s gonna need divine intervention and a therapist

[bouncer88]: thank god she didn’t have to debate with johnny today

You stop scrolling. You glance at your own reflection in the dark screen on your laptop. You thought you were slick. You thought you slipped in and out, just another face in the back row.

Your just joined a club, and you’re gossip already. They were watching. Not just the debate. You too.

You sit back and stare at the wall, pulse slow but hard. “FUUUUCK” you scream in your pillow. Your amazing plan of staying out of the campus drama just failed miserably.

You grab your phone and call the only person who might understand any of this. It rings twice before your friend picks up. “Dude.” you whisper, even though you’re alone in the dorm. “Remember how I told you I joined Debate Club?”

A groggy sigh on the other end. “Yeah? Did someone throw a dictionary at you already?” “No, worse.” You pace. “There’s a secret forum. Like a whole underground site. And I’m literally the top post.” She laughs quietly “Like what Reddit?”

“Sorta, kinda” you mutter. “I thought I was lowkey today. I didn’t do anything. I sat in the back.” Your friend hesitates. “What are they saying?” You read outloud a few of the humbling lines, hear your friend go completely silent. “Wait, that’s lowkey iconic, like, you’re in Gossip Girl or whatever”

“But i dont want this. here. now.” you whisper yell. “It could have been fun in highschool, but right now I just want my credits. I want weekends off campus. I want quiet.”

Your friend laughs. “Too late.” Your eyes flick back to the screen, and your stomach drops.

A new reply has been added.

new [anon] she’s Y/n L/n lol. don’t ask me how I know it.

You freeze. No username. No guesses. Just your full name. You’re still mid breath when your friend says, “What’s up?” You barely get the words out. “They know my name.”

Y/n where you at?!

The next morning, you walk into your 9 am lecture.

You feel it the second you step into the room. Not full on stares. Just that shift, the pause when someone looks up a second too long, the side glances people think are subtle. Like everyone suddenly remembered you, without ever officially meeting you.

Your name. You remember. Of course. Someone put your name online.

You keep your head high, ignoring the way two students near the back lean toward each other when you pass. Pretending you don’t notice the guy in the third row squinting slightly like he’s trying to match your face to a description. You slide into a seat by the window, and open your notebook like nothing’s off.

What in the world…you mutter under your breath, lips barely moving. The professor begins the lecture. You nod along. Take notes. Eyes forward.

If anyone’s watching, I’ll ignore it.

After the lecture, you spent some time lurking in the forum. Reading the other replies. Nasty. You thought to yourself, but had to admit: the only reason they were being so bold was because they didn’t know you had access to the site. It was easy to hide behind an anon account, especially when you assumed your subject wasn’t lurking.

You can’t help but giggle to yourself while scrolling through the replies. Were you upset? Sure. But was it wildly entertaining to read the things people never have the guts to say to your face? Absolutely.

Eventually, you get bored, so you just head for the archives. Most of the top posts are tied to fraternities on campus:

> "Johnny ghosting yet another chick"

> "Is Jaehyun just greedy or does he find it fun to fuck?"

> "Johnny yet again destroys Debate Club members”

> "Yuta is gonna play at Ilchil’s frat this week!!"

> "What’s with Jeno and staring at asses at the gym??"

Alright. That’s enough. You close the tab.

You had heard about frat boys in your friends campus, but Branmoor’s lineup is a whole other species. Louder. Nastier. Meaner. But somehow brighter academically.

So you start to wonder what kind of frat guys they are, because unfortunately, there are way too many variations, and way too many troubles that come with each one.

Is this whole campus really stuck in time, or do these guys actually have socials? You thought while scrolling through the pages, then the archives, then the files.

You were thankful the forum was messy enough to spill whatever info you needed, you could ask for a frat boy’s shoe size and some anon would pull up with the receipts.

You spot a long list of usernames, all posted under some fraternities, a few sororities, that you honestly wanted to get to know too, and then “Ilchil.”

You immediately search for “Johnny Suh”. You had to know what kind of guy he really was. Sure, you watched, what, one debate? How could you get anything from that alone?

Of course, he had tons of followers. You weren’t surprised. The ratio between following and followers was wild, so yeah, you already knew where his priorities were.

He had around fifteen posts: either with friends, somewhere in a place you couldn’t even pronounce, or random photos of him doing random shit…still with friends.

Honestly, you expected his profile to be as obnoxious as the forum made him out to be. But maybe stalking socials isn’t the best way to really get to know him. So you just...decide to look for him around campus.

Would a frat guy like him actually spend his weekend here? Or would he be out partying the whole time like you do? Do they even have a frat house, or is that just a movie thing? Does the Ilchil frat even show up to lectures?

The questions kept coming, because even if the forum overshares everything, there’s still something about these guys that makes you wonder.

So you end up at the quad. Not because you were trying to find him or anything, you just needed some air. And maybe some WiFi. And maybe to be near the main walkway where people just happen to pass by.

Your laptop’s open, a doc pulled up like you’re about to write a full essay, but your fingers haven’t touched the keyboard in twenty minutes. You’re scrolling through an empty page, eyes occasionally flicking up. Totally not like a stalker.

And then you see him. Johnny. With Ilchil. Bingo.

You know it’s them, the energy is different. Loud, too. You don’t even know half their names, but it doesn’t matter. The way they move? You could tell they were a unit.

Johnny’s at the center, obviously, that obnoxious freak. Laughing at something casually, like he knows people are watching, and yeah, people are watching. Not just you.

But unlike them, doing something with their lifes, you're pretending to be working. Hunched over your laptop, eyes darting up every few seconds like you’re trying to remember how to spell a word. The doc’s still empty.

They don’t see you, or if they do, they don’t register you. You’re background noise. Some girl with a laptop under a tree. Thank god. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been staring until your laptop dims from inactivity.

Weirdly, the more you watch, the less you understand him. He’s laughing, easygoing, making everyone around him comfortable. Like he’s always been that guy. So why is he so different when it comes to Debate club, or under any posts in the forum?

You’re not sure if that makes you more intrigued or more annoyed. Either way, you don’t write a single sentence that afternoon.

Keep it on the low

The days go by fast, and suddenly it’s Monday. Your first instinct when you get up now, is to open the anonymous forum like it’s Twitter.

This last few days the forum top posts weren’t about you anymore. The posts died down. Attention moved on. You were so close to slipping back into irrelevance, your goal finally being achieved.

When you get ready and leave the dorm you encounter the Regina George wannabe. Again. She looks at you with the same stern expression as always, and for a second you swear it's deja vu. You lift your eyebrows, wondering what’s so puzzling this time.

She sighs. Then steps closer. “I hate to do this, but I have to help a girl out, you know? That’s what a girl’s girl does, right?” You both stare at each other. She seems serious.

“So if you didn’t know, there’s this…how do I say it, page” she pauses, clearly trying to find a nicer word, “where people talk about everybody. Like, everybody on this campus.” She keeps going and you do your best to look clueless.

“And they also spoke about you. Said mean things. Which I don’t believe, by the way.” She puts her hand to her chest like she’s swearing on a bible. You have to swallow a laugh and keep pretending. “What’d they say?” You ask, acting worried, curious to see how far she’ll go.

“Like…about your entrance at the Debate club. Because, yeah, you didn’t know where to sit, but that’s human, okay?” Her voice gets more pitiful with every word. Is she in the theatre club? you wonder. “Well, how do I get in?” You ask casually, not even trying to keep it subtle anymore.

“So, I’m in, but I don’t remember the password. Like, I would die to tell you, but it’s been so long. And they don’t just give passwords to anybody.” She blinks like she’s trying the Disney princess look. You nod, pretending to be upset.

“Well, thank you. Now that I’m aware, I feel so much better.” You blink harder, matching her fake energy like it’s a competition. She forces a tight smile. “No problem. Just thought it wasn’t nice for you not to know.” So considerate. You mock her in your head.

Moments later, you’re in a quieter part of campus. Barely anyone around. You pull out your phone. Obviously, you check the forum.

New post: “Y/n is not inside the forum, let's cheer!” show chat: 4 replies

[anon]: well i thought it was obvious. if i knew people talked about me all this time here i would’ve left campus ASAP

[redherr75]: so can i go meaner now or is it socially unacceptable

[anon]: y/n say hi if you’re reading this!

[anon]: lmao. thank god

You knew that girl didn’t have good intentions, but you didn’t expect her to ask if you were aware of the forum and sugarcoat it like that, as if she cared about you.

But then you started to wonder, if getting the password was something so selective, how did you get it, and why?

Debate Day

If you said you were shitting your pants, that would’ve been an understatement.

You dressed a little more put together this time. Still casual. Last thing you wanted was to show up looking like you were cosplaying a lawyer.

You actually prepared yesterday. Forced your friends to debate you or just yell at you for a few hours. Outside of all the laughing, it was stressful, which honestly was perfect. You figured if you could survive that, maybe this wouldn’t be as bad. It wasn’t going to match the real thing, obviously, but it helped.

The worst part was that the topic is always a secret until you're sitting down and the mic is already on. Which, in your opinion, is just cruel. Sadistic, even.

But you couldn’t just bail and hide in your dorm forever. That would’ve made everything worse. Even the forum would’ve clowned you.

So you simply show up.

As you push the doors open, the energy shifts just like last Wednesday. But this time, the faces look more excited. Like they’ve been waiting for this. Like you’re a gladiator stepping into the arena about to be torn into pieces.

One thing you learned from last time, you need to keep your poker face. The urge to turn your heels and run down the hallway was very present. But you reminded yourself how hard you worked yesterday. You could at least fake it.

You head down the stairs, each step echoing way louder than it needs to. It would be hilarious if I actually fell right now, you thought. But you had to keep your face neutral, eyes forward, very serious.

You don’t know the protocol. Do you shake hands? Say hi? Sit and nod? Your thoughts are running everywhere at once until Kun casually signals for you to take the empty seat. No words. Just a gesture. Simple.

You sit. Right across Wooyoung, who is sitting comfortable, like he’s about to enjoy this.

You meet his eyes. Someone told you, maybe one of your friends, maybe a random comment on the forum, that you should always “assert dominance” at the start. Whatever that means. So you stare right back.

Your eyes flick over to the front row. You catch sight of Yunho, who immediately breaks eye contact like he doesn’t want to watch his friend destroy you live. Understandable.

Then you look at the others. But you can’t help staring at Johnny. He does not look away. At all.

You think maybe this is some kind of intimidation tactic. Or maybe he’s just naturally unblinking and terrifying. Either way, you want to melt into your chair, but instead you keep holding the stare like it’s a challenge. You’re already here. Might as well die with dignity.

Then the girl with the clipped mic speaks. “Welcome back, everybody. Today’s topic…” she smiles, like she knows the chaos this is about to cause. “Should public colleges eliminate tuition fees entirely?”

There’s a small pause. The room shifts.

“Wooyoung will argue no. Y/n will argue yes.”

A flicker of reaction moves across the room. Some muttered commentary. A few people turn their heads to get a better view of you, like you’re about to combust live on stage. Maybe you will.

Wooyoung smiles at you, polite but full of mischief. Like he already knows how this will go. The moderator nods. “Opening arguments. One minute each.” Wooyoung rises first. Of course he does.

His voice is calm, practiced. Like this is a warm up round. “Free tuition sounds good” he starts, “until you ask who’s paying for it.” His tone is firm but not aggressive. He mentions overworked systems, limited government budgets, the decline of academic quality. His hands folded behind his back. “You risk creating a system that promises everything and delivers nothing.”

His words are sharp and you can hear a few small hums of agreement from the crowd. Then he sits, it’s your turn.

You stand. Somehow your knees hold. You take the mic, and in your head, you just want to bust everybody’s eardrums by screaming. But outside, your expression is straight and focused. Just like your friends told you.

You inhale. “Public education is supposed to be a right, not a privilege” you say. It sounds…okay. You didn’t stutter, so that’s something.

You talk about access. About generational barriers. You bring up a comparison to public libraries, to roads, to anything else society builds to invest in itself. You use the word “infrastructure” honestly, because it sounds important.

A few people nod. Someone writes something down. A girl near the aisle looks up from her phone. You sit down. You have no idea how that went but at least you didn’t die on the spot.

Wooyoung comes in fast for rebuttal. “Access without support is chaos” he says. He mentions countries that tried and failed. He throws in a stat that you're not sure if it's real, but he says it so confidently that even you almost believe him.

Your turn again. You steady your breath. You go personal. Say your cousin dropped out of college over one missed payment. That maybe opportunity shouldn't have an expiration date. Even if your cousin didn’t drop out.

You say, “Debt makes people smaller. Education is supposed to do the opposite.” There’s a pause. Someone actually snaps. Like this is a poetry slam, damn i’m good, you thought.

Wooyoung lifts a brow but doesn’t reply directly. He says words like “long term sustainability” “realistic change” “reform” He’s good. So good.

You counter with a calm, “Free tuition isn't a handout. It's an investment.” You don’t even blink after you say it, but inside? Panic. Was i corny? You thought.

Your heart is thudding in your ears and you have no idea if your voice just cracked or if you imagined it. And that’s when you see it. Kun nods. Barely, like he didn’t mean to. Like maybe you made a point that even he can’t deny. Or maybe you're hallucinating. Honestly, it could go either way.

Wooyoung grins. He tosses out one more point, circles back to his beginning, wraps it up. You kind of hate how clean his ending is. But you're not letting him have the last word.

"If we can afford to fail students, we can afford to support them." Short, and direct. You know that was a dramatic ass closing line, that the audience can’t help but eat it up.

There’s a pause. Then, the moderator raises her hand. “We’ll hold audience questions for the end.” You sit back slowly, don’t look at Wooyoung, at anyone actually.

Because right now, you’re busy pretending you didn’t just hold your breath for ten minutes straight. You sip your water. Nod like you’re fine. Like you’re build for this, well maybe you are.

The mic girl smiles again, her clipboard already in hand. “As always, you can cast your vote through the QR code on the screen behind me” she says. “Go.”

Phones come out immediately. In the meantime you look over your laptop just staring at your own reflection in the black screen. Waiting.

You already know how this is going to go. The timer ticks down, but then:

WINNER: WOOYOUNG (NO) — 52%

You blink. It’s close. Like, really close.

A few cheers go up. Nothing wild. Just polite applause. A couple of Wooyoung’s friends clap louder than necessary, and he just sits there, smiling like he expected this. Like this was never a question.

He glances over at you, raises his eyebrows a little in that friendly “good game” kind of way. It’s not smug, so you just nod.

Someone behind you whispers, “she almost had it.” And you actually start to feel better.

You gather your stuff slowly, like it doesn’t bother you. Like this is totally fine. Yunho gives you a small nod as you pass, a weird mix of sympathy and respect.

Then there’s Johnny. Still sitting, staring, not clapping not smiling. Just watching you leave.

Outside the debate club, he’s the most extroverted, loud, annoying person you’ve probably ever met on campus. But in here? He’s different, still kind of obnoxious, but focused.

You push open the door and walk out like nothing happened. Like your hands aren’t still shaking. Like your brain isn’t already replaying everything you said.

52%.

Not bad.

But not enough.

Top Post: “Y/n’s Debate” show chat: 83 replies

[anon]: ngl i thought she was gonna choke, too bad.

[anon]: wooyoung is UNDEFEATED once again.

[redherr75]: i wanted to see johnnys face but he was just starring straight

[anon]: did yall catch kun nod

[camp420]: y’all are really acting like tying with wooyoung is a flex

[legenofz]: let her cook

[weirdlyenuf28]: Johnny stop acting nonchalant speak upp

At ease

Time went by. You were almost a regular.

Some of the Debate Club members started teasing you about the forum, while you kept pretending like you so desperately wanted to join. But they always brushed off, telling you it was for the better.

Wooyoung turned out to be way less mean than he first seemed. You started hanging out with him and his group. After debates, you'd kill time playing video games with Yunho and actually, for once, enjoy being on campus.

You even managed to befriend a few members of the most important sororities. But you stayed in your lane. Last thing you wanted was someone on the forum saying you were “climbing” or any of that fake social ladder stuff.

Then came the news.

You vs. Johnny. Next Wednesday.

You’d already debated multiple times, but this was different. This was the one match you were hoping would never happen.

Johnny is the only Ilchil in the Debate Club. The others said it was “too lame.” And maybe it used to be.

But then came Mr. Suh, with his provocative debate topics and hot looks, and suddenly people tried to join. Tried. They were humbled quickly. That’s why there were only ten real members in the club. The rest? Audience.

That’s what you’d hear whenever Johnny was brought up between you and the so called “At-Ease” members.

“You guys really have to change your group name” you said, “it does not go hard.” you kept going, hunched over on the couch next to Yunho. “But it does.” Mingi replied through a mouthful of pizza. “You just don’t get it.”

“Right” you nodded, tapping your controller. “Are you guys even a frat? Like what’s the principle of a frat group?” Without missing a beat, Wooyoung muttered, “Be a hot asshole, party till wasted, and fuck every pretty girl you see. I dunno.”

“So you’re not frats. Noted.” You smirked. Yunho shoved your shoulder and Mingi nearly choked on his pizza.

“So what are you gonna do with Johnny?” Yunho speaks up, finally snapping out of the trance of the screen. You’d been trying not to think about next Wednesday, but it kept creeping in anyway. Quietly. Constantly.

“I’ll just…get humiliated and go on with my life, I guess.” No hope. Not even pretending.

Sure, you’d managed to win a couple debates against other members, but Johnny? He was a different level. He always had some ace up his sleeve, some bold statement that he delivered like he’d rehearsed it for weeks, except everybody knew he hadn’t. He was just that good, confident, blunt. He understood that half of debate was performance.

“Kun used to be able to tie with Johnny, or even win against him” Wooyoung chimes in, not even looking up from his phone. “But then he just stopped. Decided to focus on organizing the club, making it more structured, more interesting.”

You nod along, distracted. “Was he scared?” you ask, finally turning to him.

Wooyoung smiles and shakes his head. “He won’t admit it…but you can tell.” Then he stands up, stretching as Mingi follows right behind him. “See ya.”

And just like that, you're alone with Yunho. The room quiets down. You both stare at each other like you're trying to read each other's thoughts through the silence.

“I can switch it up, if you want” Yunho says, tilting his head. You blink. “What?”

“I’m gonna ask Kun to change the lineup.”

You shake your head fast. “No. Hell no. I have to go against him eventually. Might as well do it now while I’m still a newbie, so if I lose, it’s expected. Maybe he’ll go easier on me.” Of course you also didn’t want to seem like a coward once the news "you switched" spread in the forum.

Yunho lets out a short laugh. “He won’t go easier on you. Trust.” You exhale, staring up at the ceiling.

You don’t even want to win against Johnny at this point. You just want to budge him. Just a little. Maybe get him to blink first. Break eye contact. Lose composure for half a second. That would be enough.

Top Post: “Are Y/n and Yunho hooking up?” show chat: 48 replies

[anon]: shes a corruptor lol

[rest637]: You should have waited to post this after next debate with Johnny...

[anon]: thank you back row girl for bringing drama everytime!

[camp420]: im telling you they’re putting spell on you people to distract from the johnny debate

Debate Day

The rumors about you and Yunho honestly make you smile. Cringy as they are, you’d take them over anything related to the upcoming debate. Even if your original plan was to stay completely out of drama, at least this has nothing to do with frat boys.

You didn’t think too much about it. It’s not like you could go around saying, “Yeah, I saw the forum posts.” So you did the only thing you could do, wait for Wednesday and show up.

Same setup as usual. You and your opponent on opposite sides, sitting across from each other like it’s a trial. The members arranged like some judgment council. And then, of course, the audience.

Except this time? The audience had doubled.

Maybe it was because Johnny was debating. Maybe because of you, Back Row Girl, as some still annoyingly called you. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the rumors. Some of the people here might’ve just come to stare at Yunho while you fought for your dignity in public.

“Today’s topic” Mic girl starts sharply, lifting her clipboard like it’s a verdict. “Should ambition be prioritized over loyalty in leadership?” A few people murmur. “Johnny will argue yes. Y/n will argue no.”

There’s a shift in the air. You already know exactly how Johnny’s going to frame it, big ideas, cold logic, power over people and so on. He’s going to sound smart of course.

Your opening is steady, you talk about trust, responsibility, how ambition without loyalty leads to collapse in real life too. You name drop quiet leaders, to add substance.

Then Johnny starts. And as predicted, his words are sharp. He talks about how loyalty without ambition is just stagnation. How leaders should be willing to break ties. He also brings up examples, of innovators, movements that succeeded because someone chose progress over loyalty.

He’s pretty good, but you don’t back off. So you just risk it. “So, leaders should step on people to move forward? That’s your take?” Your voice stronger, to sound more convincing.

Johnny keeps cool but does shift a bit.

“Leaders don’t step on people. They make decisions. If you want comfort, you follow. If you want change, you lead.”

You lean forward. You’d considered going personal the whole debate and now it’s time. “If leadership means sacrificing loyalty, who exactly are you expecting to follow you?”

The energy shifts once again. But this one lands.

He ignores the question. Steers it back, with logic, structure, the cost of playing safe but now he sounds just a little defensive. But you continue once he stops.

“Ambition without loyalty is how you get leaders who build empires they can’t hold. Ask anyone who’s ever been betrayed what they think about ambition, then tell me their answer.“

The words hit. Harder than you expected them to come out. But - honestly - you probably read that somewhere in a Reddit post like four years ago. But it didn’t matter, he seemed tense. That’s what matters. But you kept your poker face, careful not to trigger his instincts again.

The room goes quiet. You’re starring at him and he’s not smiling. He’s not happy, at all. “Voting is open” says mic girl, almost hesitating. You glance at the QR screen, even if you did pretty good today, you’re still against Johnny.

WINNER: TIE

The room lets out a collective gasp. A few people whisper, some laugh. You turn to Johnny.

He looks at the screen. Blinks once. Then glances at you. No smirk this time. No cocky wink. Just a quiet nod. You got to him.

Top Post: “Johnny TIES with Back Row Girl ???” show chat: 97 replies

[anon]: pair them next debate again pleasee

[jjjj888]: B.R.G. dont hurt em now

[anonpls]: Nooo johnny didn’t wink this time

[camp420]: LMAOOO

[anon]: Back row girl, Ilchil will get RID of you be careful lol

You stop scrolling there, it’s true. If it’s so difficult to tie with Johnny, they’re definitely not going to like it if you keep debating and getting better.

You don’t even know if you just wanted to budge Johnny, or if you actually enjoyed going off in your debates. Maybe you’re truly in your element when you debate.

Thing is, you’re tired of the constant posts about you on the forums. At first, they were helpful to get better and tie with Johnny, but now you did, so the satisfaction is leaving your body, and you want to go back to the irrelevance.

You know his frat won’t like this. Johnny tying with Back Row Girl is unacceptable, or at least that’s what the forum keeps thinking.

Now, going around campus is lowkey fun. You look at people without showing that you know about them. You look at their faces, trying to guess what username they have. A voice stops you.

“Y/n, how you feeling?” Wooyoung asks from the distance. You furrow your eyebrows, joining him. “Amazing, can’t you tell?” You smile. It’s like seeing Johnny mad made your week. “Now don’t get over yourself” he says while you sigh. You were just playing around, why not?

“In the forum you’re trending again. They’re saying you should step down from the debate club, for your own good” He puts his hand on your shoulder.

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh god, just let those freaks talk” you sigh, still smiling. He looks at you. “Why are you happier now that you tied than when you won the other debates?”

You grin at him. “C’mon, you know why.” You walk around him. “Johnny needed to be humbled. Even if I didn’t win, he was mad.”

Wooyoung stretches his face. “Just...don’t act cocky if you see Ilchil” he says, serious like they’re in the mafia or something. You roll your eyes. “Well they could ruin your reputation, just saying.”

You stare at him. “What reputation exactly? I already started on the wrong foot. But fine, I won’t be cocky.”

He sighs at your answer. Dude, you thought, the Branmoor people really can’t appreciate anything.

“They already said something about you and Yunho simply because you two hang out together. Those people on the forum attach to anything if it brings drama.”

“Wooyoung, whatever they’re saying there, it doesn’t matter here. As I said, it’s fine.” This time you put your hand on his shoulder. “Maybe I shouldn’t do this.” You immediately take your hand off. “The rumors” you tease him, and leave him there.

Maybe the drama is getting fun.

That evening

“So, did he even say good job? Or just give you a nod?” You shake your head, even though your friends on the call can’t see you. “He just stared at me, mad as hell.”

Your friends burst out laughing as you giggle. They think it’s hilarious, but in the moment? It was terrifying. You genuinely thought he was about to get up and choke you.

“Did you see him after that?”

You hesitate. “No” you admit. It’s already Friday morning and you still haven’t seen him. Maybe that’s for the better. If any of the Ilchil frat saw you, they probably would’ve lynched you on the spot.

It’s not like you humiliated Johnny during the debate. You just put him in a tough spot, that’s it. Honestly, it’s probably been ages since he even tied with someone. This was like...a reality check for him.

“Y/n? Hellooo?” Your friend pulls you back into the convo. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just, I’ve never actually spoken to him. Like, outside that room.” You lean back in your chair. “I probably exchanged a few words with Yuta and Mark before, but that’s it. That’s all the Ilchil interaction I’ve had.”

There’s a beat of silence as you start overthinking. Then one of your friends jumps in from the other side: “Well, it’s Friday. Don’t they usually throw frat parties?”

You blink. “Yeah, i think so...Go on?”

She always starts these conspiracies with no explanation. “Well, just go to their party, get to know them, smooth things over. They won’t bite, right?” You stare at the wall. “I don’t want to get to know them.”

You hear her sigh. Another friend chimes in, more blunt this time. “So what, you’re just gonna let the forum keep posting boring filler about you? They’re gonna talk about you either way, might as well try to fix it.”

You’re kind of speechless. Because, for once, they’re being serious. And worse, they’re right. “I can’t just show up, though. I need...connections or whatever.”

You scroll through the forum aimlessly. “Didn’t you know that Yunjin girl...” “She doesn't go to Ilchil parties” you interrupt. “Says they are stoned freaks.”

“Well, what about At-Ease? Do they have any connections?” You cringe. “Please don’t call them that. I’ve told them, that name does not go hard.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking. “Let me see…They should know Taeyong, yeah.” There’s a collective “ouuu” from the other end of the call. “Then go do something about it.”

They end the call as you stare down at your phone, jaw tightening. But they do say Taeyong's the bridge between the people, the calm in the neo storm or whatever they mean in the forum. If anyone would let you through the door, it’s him. So you trust Yuhno, and text Taeyong, he probably doesn’t even have your phone number.

Still, you text boldly.

o: hey. random but can you get me into the house 2night?

four minutes pass.

x: what’s in it for me?

o: Back Row Girl’s presence. duh.

x: alright, just say you’re with me at the door. lol.

Before you even realized it, you literally let him know you were aware of the forum talk. Now you just hope they’ll think you heard the nickname from Yunho and not because you’ve been lurking.

The Ilchil house is already lit when you pull up with the other guys, music thumping, people yelling from the balcony, someone in the yard shotgunning a beer and failing miserably. Yunho whistles low. “They started early.” While you stare, almost in awe at how disgustingly frat this house is.

“They sure do” Mingi smiles, scanning the chaos as some wasted guy screams from the inside. “And messy.” He sounds calm, like this kind of energy is just another day for Ilchil. Wooyoung elbows you lightly. “What made you think this was the look for a Ilchil party?” He gestures at you. “Could’ve at least thrown on a dress or a skirt or...something.”

You smirk, adjusting your waistband. “I considered wearing my usual party clothes, okay? But tonight, I’m here for business.” you stare down at your outfit, smug. “Figured jeans and a tank top would do just fine.”

You strike a quick pose, teasing, because yeah, you still put effort in and you look good! As much as you wanted to dress up like you usually do at parties, there was no way you were about to give the Forum anons another reason to come for you.

He rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get in.”

The second the front door swings open, you’re hit with heat, bass extremely heavy, and it already smells like cheap beer, weed, and expensive cologne. The place is packed, loud, and hot, which is exactly what everyone expects from Ilchil's parties.

You’ve never stepped foot in this house before, but the guys have. San's pointing out the corner where he once saw two people make out and break up at the same time. Mingi’s nodding along to the loud music, Yunho moves like he’s been here too many times to care, and Wooyoung looks like he wants to start a fight with the loud speakers behind him.

But you? You’re the unfamiliar factor here. The Back Row Girl. Of course. And they notice it.

People start turning, not all at once, gradually, but the party doesn’t stop. The music still pulses, people still grind and laugh and pour drinks, but glances get thrown at you. Some subtle. Some not, as whispers trail behind you.

< “Why is she here.” “She with Yunho?” >

You have to keep walking like it doesn’t bother you, just like when you got in the auditorium your first debate. But honestly you expected it. The whole forum obsession thing made sure of that. You’ve read the posts building up. Back Row Girl like you’re some campus cryptid.

And yeah, maybe you fed into it. Maybe you didn’t. Either way, you’re not here to create more rumors tonight. Or at least that’s what you’re trying to do.

This situation is not helping, especially not with the way Yunho moves beside you, close. Like the two of you didn’t spend the past week ignoring that hookup rumor every chance you got, only for it to come back every time someone sees him with an arm slung casually over your chair, or laughing at something you say during the debate’s aftermath.

And now? With his arm brushing yours occasionally as you move through Ilchil territory? the tension in the stares, the constant whispers just keep fueling the rumor.

You glance behind you, scanning faces as if looking for someone, anyone who might give you neutral ground, like Taeyong. Maybe he can help balance out the stares, soften the sharp edge of his frat's resentment. But Taeyong is nowhere yet. And unfortunately, a tall figure already spotted you. Johnny.

You’re about to step toward him. Not for drama, you just want to resolve the problem. Keep it respectful. Get in, get out. But as soon as you shift your weight, a girl peels off from the couch like she was waiting for this moment.

You’ve seen her before. A regular. She’s the “spicy” one who always starts arguments, according to the forum. Not like the other nice, Ilchil girls you’ve encountered before. “Hey” she says, stepping directly into your path like it’s casual, like it wasn’t clearly calculated. “You look…comfortable.”

You stay silent. She tilts her head like she’s trying to read you. “Didn’t think Ilchil parties were your thing.”

“I’m just here to talk to them.” Her smile sharpens, a little less friendly now. “Oh, right. The debate club thing.” She waves a hand. “Yes, among other things” you reply, flat but respectful, still glancing around, looking for Taeyong.

Behind her, Johnny hasn’t moved. He’s still watching, listening, one hand curled around his cup, jaw tight like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do. The girl glances briefly over her shoulder at him, then back at you. Her voice then drops the sweet tone. “Just so you know, a lot of girls walk in here thinking they’re special...” You raise a brow while she keeps going “...And a lot of them act like they own a man who’s never been claimed.”

You can't believe what she just assumed. “I’m not here to claim a frat. I need to fix a problem. So if you’d just let me-” You step past her, brushing against her shoulder. But she isn’t done. “Is it because you’re claiming Yunho now?” Her voice is light, casual, but just loud enough for the people nearby to hear it.

A few heads turn. Then you stop. As much as you want to keep it respectful, you know exactly what she’s trying to do. You turn just slightly.

“You’ve got the wrong idea. About a lot of things.” You push past the group behind her, trying not to look pissed off. Any thought you had about going to Johnny vanishes. You’re not here to be bait. Not for him. Not for a petty girl with a loud voice and a territorial complex. If anything, this whole hallway feels like a setup, like he wanted to see you struggling.

You don’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, you turn your focus back to what actually matters. Taeyong. You scan the crowd, weaving through bodies, the heat rising again the deeper you go into the house. Someone offers you a drink, you shake your head. A couple people stare too long, but you keep moving. 

You head toward the back, where it’s a little less chaotic, hoping he isn’t somewhere upstairs fucking somebody. You spot Taeyong’s eccentric clothes near the back wall, calm as ever, chatting with someone who looks like they don’t even go here. You waste no time and walk straight up, grab his shoulder, and tug him slightly to the side.

“Please” you say, voice low but sharp, “tell your frat boyfriends to stop being petty just because I had a tie with your big boy” Taeyong blinks, caught off guard. “Wait-”

“No.” You stare at him, eyes wide, pleading. “Just listen. I’m not here to start anything. I’m not here to claim Johnny or Yuhno or whatever weird forum fantasy they’ve spun this week. I literally came here to tell you this, so just make sure they get it in their fried little brains.”

He nods slowly, hands raised slightly “Okay, okay. Got it. I’ll talk to-” before he can finish, you feel a hand wrap around your arm, firm, and you already know who it is. “Sorry” Wooyoung says from beside you, his voice almost too casual. “Johnny wants to talk to you.”

You don’t move right away. You just look at Wooyoung. “Did he say what it’s about?” Wooyoung shrugs. “No. But he said it like you owe him the conversation." Of course he did. owe. You close your eyes for a second. And then you nod.

Fix the problem

The door to the guest room is cracked open, Wooyoung gives you a look that says good luck and disappears before you can respond. This is so weird. Everyone here is so weird, you think.

You push the door open. It's still dark, the kind of low, hazy glow you'd expect at a party, but just bright enough to catch glimpses of movement, flashes of faces. You can spot Johnny's figure easily, his face half lit, his jawline sharp .

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, cup discarded on the nightstand. His head lifts when you enter. You want to laugh at his face, so bad. The door clicks shut behind you and the room smells pretty good. Now it's a little too quiet compared to the party chaos just outside.

“You sent for me like it’s a court summons” you say, arms crossed. He leans back slightly, head tilted. “Didn’t know I needed permission.” You stare, “Let me guess” you continue, stepping in, “this is the part where you do the big man talk and try to tell me how I’m making things worse.” He smiles, he's so annoying. “No. Actually, I was going to say you walking in here tonight? It's brave, risky.”

You blink. “Wow. What a take.” you look up at the ceiling. “I’m serious” he says, lifting his hands. “You walked in here like you were making a statement.” here he goes “I wasn’t making a statement” you snap. “I came here to tell Taeyong to check his frat, because half of them looked like they wanted to burn me at the stake.”

“Well” Johnny says slowly, “you are kind of a firestarter.” You stare. “You realize you’re not as charming as you think you are, right?” That makes him pause. “I didn’t say I was trying to be charming.” He answers briefly. “No, but you always talk like you’re so much better than anybody else.” You step closer, the tension rising. “Like you’re explaining something I’ve already figured out.”

He leans forward again, voice lower now. “Because sometimes you act like you don’t get it.” “Oh, enlighten me, Johnny.” You throw your arms out. “Tell me what it is I clearly don’t understand.”

He stands up now too, not in a threatening way, just matching your energy, but not your height, since now he’s the one looking down at you. “Fine” he says. “You walk around like you’re detached from all this, like it doesn’t affect you. But you know it does. The forum posts. The whispers. This whole Back Row Girl thing? You’re part of it now whether you like it or not.”

You laugh, in disbelief. “So what, you want me to apologize for existing in your frat world?” “No. I want you to stop pretending like you’re better than it.” You narrow your eyes. “Well sorry that I didn't like being dragged online just because I didn’t melt under your perfect debate club record.” You mock him.

Johnny breathes in like he wants to stay calm, but his jaw is tight. “It wasn’t about the tie.” Your eyes narrow once again. “Then what was it about?” He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes scan your face like he’s still trying to decide how honest to be. Finally, he exhales slowly.

“It’s the way you looked at me” he says, his voice low, deliberate. “Like nothing I said during the debate was ever going to move you.”

You blink, thrown off for a second “That’s what got to you?” you ask, arching a brow, a smirk forming, this guy's ego is unbelievable. “My reaction?”

He ignores the tease. “No, it’s also the way you argued. Looking like you were humoring me.” You feel something shift in your chest. Not smugness, just the strange change of his tone. “And that bothered you? That I matched your energy?" you ask. He nods once, slowly. “Yeah. It bothered the hell out of me.” His voice is stronger, deeper.

“I’d get off the podium and still feel like I was mid debate with you” he says. “Like you were still in my head, testing me.” You move slightly, arms still crossed. You try to keep it cool. “Well, why didn’t you just talk to me?” you continue, dry. “Like the rest of the debate club did?"

He scoffs, “Because it wasn’t the same with the rest of them.” You shake your head, “That’s not an answer.” He steps closer, more present, his voice low. “I didn’t want to give you more space in my head than you already had.” He shifts his head near yours, like he wants to keep staring at your face even closer. You blink once, not stepping back.

“So ignoring me was easier?”

“Yeah, actually” he says, his eyes more intense “It was. Until you walked in tonight and reminded me how bad I am at that.” You exhale slowly, not breaking eye contact. Where is this going? You thought. “I didn’t come here trying to mess with your head, Johnny.” you step further. “Yeah” he says, nodding. “But you do.” You almost want to end it there. You understood now, that was his problem. But if you were being honest, part of you had the same one.

There hasn’t been a day you haven’t thought about Johnny. Maybe it was because tying with him was supposed to be impossible. Maybe it was because the forum wouldn’t shut up about it. Or maybe you just wanted to know who he was outside the club.

Johnny’s eyes flicker down, just once, to your lips. The second your gaze drops too, even slightly, he moves. One step. Maybe two. Then his hand is on your jaw, and his lips on yours.

The kiss isn’t soft. It’s the kind that’s been building for days, if not weeks from debates keeping you tense, stolen glances across campus, that silence after the tie. His fingers slide into your hair, his grip firm. You lean into it without thinking, like your body had been waiting for this.

You’re kissing him like you’re still trying to prove something, like you’re still arguing, just with your mouths pressed together and your hands now on his strong arms. Johnny pulls you closer, backs you up toward the bed without breaking away. His rough hands are at your waist now, slipping under the hem of your tank top like he needs to feel you, better.

Your breath hitches, and you can’t help but stare at the door. He moves your face back to him, like he’s telling you there’s nothing to worry about. Then he steps over and locks it.

It kind of breaks the tension that had built up. Looking at him, you’re now sitting up. He seems hesitant too, like this wasn’t the plan. Like he came here just to talk. Maybe that was all it was supposed to be.

He heads back toward the door, reaching to unlock it, like he’s assuming you're over this. Like you're free to leave.

But you get up, instinct maybe. You don’t know what drives you. Johnny’s an asshole. This whole frat house is packed. You don’t do one night stands. Everything about this is wrong.

And still, you step toward, stopping him before he can turn the lock, boldly placing his hand back on your waist. You haven’t had a single drop of alcohol. He seemed sober too. So what the hell is happening? The cologne from earlier in the hallway got to your brains?

You stare at him, his eyes sharp, annoyingly hot. His chest broad. He smirks a little, tilts his head, not expecting you to keep going. The kiss, maybe, was just instinct. Attraction. But this? This is intentional.

You have no excuse now.

You stare at him, daring him to make the next move. And he does.

His hand grabs your waist, firmer this time. You don’t have time to react before he pulls you back toward the bed, until your back hits the mattress. You fall into it with a small gasp, and he follows, leaning in close, not touching you, just hovering, watching. His smirk is back, cunning like the usual.

"Still think I show up to those debates just to win?" he murmurs "you know I don’t."

You open your mouth to fire back something sharp, but he leans in closer, lips near your jaw now. "Say something clever, go on" he whispers. "I hate it when you go quiet."

You glare at him, pulse jumping. "So now you hate-"

His lips are on your neck before you finish, warm and soft, your breath catches, sharp and sudden. You should shove him off, say something cutting, remind him that you’re not just somebody he can shut up with a kiss.

But you don’t. His mouth moves slowly, and you can feel the smug satisfaction in how he does it. Like this is just another debate, and he’s winning.

You hate how much you’re enjoying this, and its like as if your back to your senses. But your body betrays you, arching into the pressure. You hate that he knows what he’s doing, how easily he shuts you up without needing a comeback.

"Thought so" he mutters against your skin, his voice low, arrogant.

You try to push his heavy body off, maybe just to remind him to go back to his senses too. Like you two will regret it. But his knee slides between your thighs and your breath stutters. You're not drunk. He's not drunk. And still, none of this is planned. But now it feels just right.

"You’re gonna stop me?" his voice a low rasp.

You don’t answer. It’s like you’re embarrassed, like the fake, assertive persona you wear during debates just doesn’t work here. And he grins, like that’s all the permission he needs.

His mouth moves lower, dragging along your now hot and exposed neck. Teeth graze, just enough to make you gasp. He’s not rushing. He doesn’t have to. He knows exactly how much tension is sitting in your body, how long you’ve both been pretending the arguments were about winning. They never were. They were about the thrill of getting a reaction from each other.

His free hand slides under your shirt, slow and searching, fingers skimming over your ribs, your stomach tightens under his touch, anticipation curling hot in your core.

You shift beneath him, chasing more. The way his thigh is pressed between yours sends a slow ache rolling through you, sharp and heavy. His mouth finds your collarbone, then lower, teeth again, harder this time, like he wants to taste you. You let out a moan you didn’t mean to make, and his grip on your waist tightens just slightly, enough to tell you he heard you.

Clothes move. Hands under fabric, pulling, exposing yourself, and all you can do is let it happen, caught in the heat. You’ve never let anyone do this. Not like this. Not even in the clubs with a random hot stranger, normally you lead the hands.

And when his mouth trails lower, when his knee settles deeper between your thighs, when everything slows down to nothing but stimulation, you don’t think about the debates, or the guys outside. You don’t think at all.

You just let him touch you. It feels too good to be real, like your body isn’t fully yours anymore, and you don’t care.

You just want to stay like this, laid out beneath him, letting him take his time, letting him feel everything. The way he touches you isn’t rushed or careless. He’s focused, almost obsessive, like this gives him more satisfaction than anything else.

Like this is the real pleasure not rushing to the “real deal”.

And the way he reacts to you, to your moans, to the way your body moves under his, it’s like he's getting off on it more than you are.

But you want to feel him too, hear him. So you reach for his sculpted face, grabbing it, pulling him down to yours like you can’t stand the distance anymore. You kiss him hard, no hesitation, no space left between you, like you're trying to prove something, maybe even to yourself.

It's messy, intense. He groans into your mouth, deep, the sound goes straight through you, setting something off in your chest and your panties too.

You wrap your legs around him without thinking, locking him in, and his hands slide down your sides, now you're finally touching him back. You’re taking him.

His hips press down slowly, and now there’s no hiding what he wants. You feel the full weight of it, thick and hard through his jeans, and it makes you gasp into his mouth. 

He moves against you, once, just to feel your reaction. A deep moan escapes you before you can stop it, and he bites down gently on your lower lip in response. 

You roll your hips up to meet him, chasing more friction, and he curses under his breath. His hands move to your waistband, fingers curling around the edge like he’s waiting to see if you’ll stop him. You don’t. You lift your hips instead, and that’s all the answer he needs.

He unbuttons your jeans, dragging the zipper down with an agonizing patience, then starts to slide them off. He works them down, past your knees, then tosses them aside without a glance, his focus never leaving your pretty face.

You reach for his belt in return, fingers fumbling a little, not from nerves, but from urgency. He watches you, eyes dark and hungry, breathing heavier as you undo the buckle and pop the button, dragging the zipper down. You push at his waistband, and he shuffles out of them, jeans hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Your thighs brush. His palm slides back up the inside of yours, warm and steady. And the way he looks at you now, makes your whole body tense.

Something so raw, that makes you feel like you’re burning alive under him. There’s no thought anymore. Just pure desire and the signs of how badly you both wanted this.

His fingers trace the edge of your underwear, slowly, like he’s waiting for you to flinch. He slides them down without a word, his eyes never leaving yours, and when you’re bare beneath him, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours.

"Fuck" he mutters, almost to himself. His hand runs up the inside of your thigh again, spreading you open with a firm touch.

You think you should say something, something sharp, something clever, but your mind’s already gone. His fingers find you, sliding through wet folds with a groan of satisfaction, and your hips jolt up toward him, instinctive, desperate.

He leans over you, lips brushing your ear. "You’re this sensitive already?"

You try to glare, to answer, but his fingers circle your clit, slow and devastating. So the thought dies before it can leave your mouth. You arch beneath him, breath catching, and he just grins.

"Guess so."

You reach for him again, tugging at the waistband of his boxers, and he helps you, stripping them off in one quick motion. Then he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside without a thought, and now there’s nothing between you. The weight of him presses between your thighs, his tip bushing over your core. Suddenly there’s no teasing, just heat, skin touching, pure anticipation.

He lines himself up, eyes locked on yours. “You good?” he asks, voice low, needy, waiting.

You nod, breathless. He tightens his hands on your hips, and then he’s inside you, slow at first, thick and stretching, your walls immediately hug around him. You gasp, legs tightening around his waist, and he moans deep into your neck like he’s barely holding it together too.

“Just like tha-” he cuts himself off, thrusting in deeper, dragging a moan out of you that you can’t stop. "-take all of me.”

He sets a rhythm, deep, relentless, all you can do is hold on. Your fingers dig into his back, dragging along his glistening skin as he thrusts into you harder. Every time he hits your cervix deeper, a whimper slips from your lips, soft and involuntary, as he enjoys every single one.

“Where’s all that confidence now?” he can’t even form a smirk, he just pants. “Huh? Pretty one…c’mon.” He gives your cheek a light slap, just enough to snap you back, make your eyes meet his again.

You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is moan, helpless, like he’s fucking the thoughts right out of you. He stares down, ruthlessly admiring the mess he’s made of you, your flushed cheeks, parted plump lips, the dazed look in your eyes. 

Then he leans in, capturing your mouth in a kiss, rough, possessive. Like he’s trying to erase any memory of someone else ever touching you. That rumor, whether it was bullshit or not, is lodged in his mind now, burning through him.

When he pulls back, his thumb finds your clit, rubbing hard and fast. “You like that?” he growls, mouth against your jaw. “Admit it.”

You nod recklessly, as the climax hits like a wave crashing all over you, shattering through your core. "Fuck...Johnny-" Your body seizes under him, your legs are shaking, your walls throbbing, he can’t help but groan at the feel of it, thrusting harder, chasing his own hot release.

He spills into you moments later, hips stuttering, face buried in your neck, moans low and toned down. You lie there, breathless, his weight still half on top of you, your bare chest rising and falling against his.

For a moment, everything goes quiet. Just your heartbeats.

Then you shift beneath him, not ready to let go just yet. You push at his chest gently, and he leans back, confused for a split second. He looks so good when he ruffles his eyebrows, you thought as you swing a leg over him and straddle his lap. You kiss him again, slow and unhurried this time, less about heat, more about claiming something yourself.

His hands settle on your thighs, thumbs brushing your skin, and he kisses you back with that same smug satisfaction, like he knows exactly what he just did to you and loves that you’re not done yet.

You finally pull away, lips swollen, heart racing. You stare at his face but then you glance at the door. Reality creeps in fast.

You slip off his lap, grabbing your clothes from the floor, your hands a little shaky. You smooth your hair, wipe at the corners of your mouth, trying to pull yourself back together. Your heartbeat hasn’t slowed, and the thought of running into the other guys outside this guest room makes your stomach twist.

He watches you dress, not mad, still sprawled across the bed like he has all the time in the world, completely unbothered, while he lifts up his boxers to his hip.

“Relax” he says, stretching. “No one’s gonna say shit.” You shoot him a look then crack the door open just enough to peek out. The hallway’s mostly quiet. Music hums distantly from downstairs, but no voices nearby.

You step out fast, heart racing, trying to look casual even though your skin’s still buzzing. A few seconds later, Johnny slips out right behind you, just a little slower, his shirt now clinging to his still warm skin. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have to. His eyes track your figure as you walk ahead, a hidden smirk tugging at his mouth.

Two of the his frat lean against the wall a few doors down, mid conversation, until they see you two. One of them raises his eyebrows. The other lets out a really low whistle.

Johnny doesn’t miss a beat. He gives them a lazy half smile, then glances down the stairs, just as you’re quickly making your way down. His eyes linger. On your face. Your chest. Your neck.

Then he smirks, subtle, thinking about the missed opportunity to leave a hickey there. A reminder for you, and a mark for the others, right where they all could’ve seen it.

“What happened back there?” Yuta asks, a smile creeping in. Johnny shrugs, still watching you walk away like nothing happened. “Wouldn’t worry about it.” But your legs are still trembling. And your lips still taste like him.

You don’t look back as you disappear around the corner, but you can still feel his eyes on you. Your face burns. pushing past the people lazily dancing around at the late hour.

You slip into the bathroom, lock the door, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your hair’s a mess. Your lips are swollen. Your neck, untouched, luckly. You splash cold water on your face, as if you could wash his kisses off.

But you still feel him. And when you finally step out and rejoin the noise of the party, your face is composed again. You scan the crowd, looking for Yunho, it's better if it's Wooyoung.

But Johnny? Nowhere in sight. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe he’ll treat you like one of the many girls and leave you alone now. Part of you hopes that’s true. But another part, aching, wants him not to.

You find Wooyoung and smile. The two of you talk, slipping into conversation like nothing’s changed. He doesn’t seem to notice anything different about you, just your brighter eyes and the faint glow radiating from your skin.

“You two are cool now?” he asks, casual. You nod, satisfied. The others gather around, and together you head back to the dorms.

But later that night, as you lie in bed, sleep doesn’t come. The sky is already lightening up as the sun rises. You reach over to your bedside table and grab your laptop.

You open the forum, biting your nails. I was slick this time right?

Top Post: “Johnny and Y/N host a Private debate on a Friday night” show chat: 136 replies

Shit.

a/n: I recently had a bunch of debates in my university, so i got heavily inspired by them. lol. might consider a part 2, idk...

part 2 is here!!

[suhsse]

Pine Ridge Camp - Johnny Suh

pairing: campdirector!johnny x campcounselor!f!reader ft.nct127

genre: slow burn, summer camp AU, there was only one tent, smut.

wc: 5k

warnings: cursing, smoking, oral (f receiving) cunninglingus, Johnny is lowkey a yearner.

synopsis: For the past few years, you’ve had a bunch of summer flings: sneaking out of your house to smoke, getting drunk, making out on the beach at night… you name it. But you’ve never taken any of them seriously or fallen hard for anyone. It was all just for fun.

So when your friend Mark invited you to be a counselor with him at a summer camp, you nearly laughed in his face. But boredom had been creeping in lately, and you were desperate for something different.

Now here you are—looking after kids and doing activities you never imagined yourself signing up for. People there were nice, sure, but this summer? No more flings. At least, that’s what you promised yourself.

01 A new counselor

It was 8 am, and the morning breeze made you shiver. You looked out the car window, admiring the camp. You hadn't expected it to be this nice, which made you feel better about your decision.

When you parked outside the gate, you saw a familiar face. As soon as you stepped out of the car, Mark was there, grinning as he pulled you into a hug. "y/n, you made it!" he said. You rolled your eyes, as you couldn't believe you'd actually signed up for this.

"Tell me you don't have any regrets" he teased. You both laughed, but the sound quickly faded as two tall figures approached. The first one smiled as he shook your hand, Jungwoo, he was really pretty.

But the second guy? There was something about him that made you feel intimidated, maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was just how imposing he was. He just gave you a quick nod and shook your hand with a firm grip. His hands were massive, just like his whole figure. When he introduced himself, you barely registered his name.

They took the baggage out of the car and left it in one quick motion. As you walked in with Mark, he started explaining how "Johnny" apparently that was the other guy's name-was more of a camp director in the summer, following in his dad's footsteps.

You nodded along as he said more, though you couldn't quite tell what he was saying as you were zoning out, tired from the trip. Eventually, Mark showed you your bunk, and after that, he left you with three other girls.

The morning went by quickly. The girls were nice and immediately made you feel comfortable. By the time 10:30 am struck, you were already helping them carry huge amounts of boxes in and out of the bunks. There, you met more people-apparently all from Mark's friend group, since the others were busy in the cafeteria.

As you helped one of them, Taeyong, bring boxes to the wood hut, you saw Johnny again.

He was cutting up some logs. When he heard footsteps approaching, he gave a dry "hey" and wiped the sweat from his neck. Taeyong, being the nice guy he is, tried to bring you into the conversation he and Johnny were having.

You just stood there listening, unsure what they were even talking about. You told Taeyong you'd join them later, using the boxes as an excuse.

You weren't awkward-just not really into it.

You rarely felt intimidated by people, and honestly, despite the way he looks, Johnny didn't really seem that mean when he's with others.

As you left, you didn't think much of it until you suddenly heard a voice behind you: "Don't leave the boxes on the ground-they're gonna get dirty." Johnny had finally spoken to you, just to correct you.

He lifted the boxes with such ease that you wondered if you had accidentally switched yours with an empty one. "I'll take care of it. You go ahead." he said, basically dismissing you without waiting for a response. You nodded and left, trying to hide how annoyed you were at his attitude. But he was the director, after all.

After that one sided conversation with Johnny, you didn't talk much with him for the rest of the day -not that you cared to talk to him... or stare at him while he effortlessly chopped wood with his strong arms and- Jesus Christ.

You snapped out of it, glancing around the table and hoping no one had the power to hear your thoughts. That's when Yuta casually asked you about yourself. You looked at Mark, then back at the redhead, unsure of what to say. You hated those kinds of questions, so you went with the safe answer:

"I'm studying at the moment" you said, hoping he wouldn't press further. You were too tired after the long day for small talk. He smiled widely, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"So if you're normally busy, why'd you come here?" he asked innocently, moving around the food on his plate. You locked eyes with Mark. The last thing you wanted to admit at a table full of counselors— and a director —was that you were bored and had nothing better to do than get paid to enjoy the summer "vibes."

"—Her uncle used to take her on mountain trips, made her shoot deer and whatnot" Mark said casually, still focused on his plate. He wasn't wrong, you did use to do that. But it wasn't exactly the same as taking care of kids. Yuta and Haechan raised their eyebrows, clearly not expecting that.

"I wouldn't say I shot deer, I mostly just... tracked them" you tried to play it off, not wanting to seem like a psychopath who kills wild animals for fun. Because that would be your uncle. Not you.

Haechan leaned forward, fork in hand. "Wait, but like... were you crawling through the woods in camo with war paint on, or just following footprints?" Jaehyun gave him a look, subtly signaling him to cut it out, probably thinking the conversation was starting to sound more like an interrogation.

You chuckled, "No war paint" you said, scratching your forehead and glancing down, trying to remember the last time you'd even gone. "Most of the time, we never even saw anything."

Johnny, who had been unusually quiet at the end of the table, looked up from his plate. "Still takes patience. Most people can't sit still for more than ten minutes.” You didn't expect him to join the conversation, especially since it was about you. A small part of you wondered if that was meant as a compliment.

Yuta nodded, "Well, that's gonna come in handy when the kids inevitably try to start a forest fire." he then took a sip from his cup. "I'll just track them down in the woods like the wild animals they are." you said as you leaned back to glance toward the kids being loud.

The table laughed, and you couldn't help but notice Johnny cracked a small smirk, though he didn't say anything else.

Still, deep down, it felt oddly satisfying to have his approval in some way.

02 Light it up

Days have passed since the deer conversation, and you feel much more at ease with the camp. Everything is going smoothly. The morning light glitters over the water, and you're drawn to spend your free time by the lake.

You lazily sit on a bench, cross your legs, and light a cigarette. It's a bad habit you've recently picked up again, and you're not even sure if smoking is allowed here, but it's too late now, you think as you exhale deeply.

Suddenly, you hear rustling behind you. Before you can turn around, a familiar voice says, "Got a spare?". You glance over and meet the camp director's gaze. Without saying a word, you pull out another cigarette as he sits next to you, and you start to wonder why he always sneaks up at people like that.

You light up his cigarette quietly, then, with it's between his lips, Johnny's muffled "thank you" breaks the stillness.

The mood shifts, and you feel a little awkward. "Late morning," he says, you look at him and can't help but notice the sculpted lines of his face. "We're heading out on a trip into the woods. I'll need two or three counselors to help bring the kids." His eyes are tired, but they never break contact with yours.

"Should we pack torches, along with the rest, in case it gets dark?" You ask furrowing your eyebrows, thinking of the worst that could happen.

He puts out the cigarette against the bench and looks at you. "Sure, but no rifles." As he gets up, you chuckle, then meet his gaze once again. It's clear he's waiting for you to get up, signaling it's time to head back together.

Since you settled in with the camp, the moments you spend with him are still brief, and you both tend to stay quiet, simply helping each other with the tasks of the day. There's a mutual respect between you, but when you're alone together, like now, walking side by side along the lake, you can't shake the tension.

Your arms brush occasionally, and the proximity is almost unbearable. But you don't want to risk ruining the connection you've been building over the past week. You get the feeling Johnny has different plans for this summer. Ones that don’t have to do with a random friend of Mark.

03 Trip to the pines

“Doyoung, catch it!” Johnny shouted, tossing all the bags out of the bus. Ryunjin was busy counting the kids, making sure they hadn't lost anyone already, while you stood there, staring at the view and thinking about all the walking ahead. “So…” Johnny clapped his hands. “We’ll just circle around the lake and get back here before it gets dark. If a kid gets hurt, you know the drill.” He pointed at the walkie-talkies you couldn’t believe still existed, but you took him seriously since the others all nodded.

“Me and Doyoung will lead, then.” Ryunjin said, brushing past you and slinging a backpack over her shoulders, ready to start the hike. That left you and Johnny behind, tasked with keeping an eye on the kids. You took the opportunity to actually get to know him, what he did for a living, his hobbies, if he had a girlfriend…You wondered a lot while staring at your feet, carefully placing each step as the path grew steeper.

“Do you do this as your main thing, or is it like…your summer activity?” you asked, squinting slightly as the sun blinded you. “No, I own a bar back in the city” he said, voice soft but deep. “But my dad used to be a camp director, so I decided to take his place after he retired.” “That's great. I mean, do you enjoy your time here, or—”

“It’s nice,” he cut in. “It's like a break from the noise and chaos of the city. Plus, I get to be more active.” Oh I'm sure you’re active…you thought as he kept talking while still scanning the group, making sure no one tried anything dumb. That’s when Doyoung suddenly disappeared from view.

“Shit—” he muttered under his breath as his leg got stuck in a small ditch. Johnny immediately dropped what he was carrying and rushed over. The kids looked between you and Ryunjin as you lifted your shoulders in unison. “Man, I told you to be careful” Johnny groaned.

“You told me to look after the kids!” Doyoung snapped back, trying to pull his leg out. “That’s not gonna do anything…” Ryunjin called from a distance, the kids watching like he was about to die or something.

While Johnny and Ryunjin tried to free him, you rummaged through your bag for something useful. “You know you could help us out, right?” Ryunjin grunted, struggling to balance her strength with Johnny’s. You stood up holding a tube of vaseline. Doyoung narrowed his eyes but said nothing—he was too busy being stuck.

“Don’t ask” you said, kneeling down. You slathered the cream over his trapped leg, and as the others realized what you were doing, they lifted him one last time. Finally, he was free. Oiled up, yes—but free. You cleared your throat. “We good?” Ryunjin burst out laughing while Doyoung tried to shake the vaseline off his leg. “First of all, gross” he said, looking at you. “Second of all, thank you.” You patted his shoulder as he returned to the front.

“Do you carry a 500ml bottle of vaseline with you everywhere, or was this, like, a one time thing?” Johnny asked, raising a brow. As soon as you laughed, he smirked, clearly trying to contain his own laughter. He loved to tease and be sarcastic, but when it came to you, he tried to be a little less “silly”. He didn’t know exactly why—but you made him nervous.

He was great with "chicks" as Mark liked to say, and never worried about embarrassing himself. He was confident, and you knew that. What you didn’t know was that he tried his best to make a good impression on you. Not because you were different, or particularly funny—but because you were unpredictable.

He was still trying to understand your personality after a week. And trust, he was looking. Watching you while you laughed with Mark’s group. He knew he could join in, and he knew he could make you laugh too. But instead, he chose to just watch, analyze, and get to know you, from a different perspective.

As soon as you reached the spot, everyone dropped their stuff near the small hut and took a moment to admire the view of the lake from the hilltop. “Careful, careful” Johnny kept warning the kids. He could be a great father, you thought—then immediately brushed it off, cringing at your own delusions.

The weather seemed nice at first, but after about half an hour of hanging around while the kids played, a massive cloud started forming overhead. “There’s definitely going to be a thunderstorm” Doyoung said, squinting at the sky.

“And it’s getting dark already…” you added, scratching your head. “Listen, we can’t leave now” Ryunjin began, already stressed. “If the rain pours too hard, it’ll make the path too slippery, and—” she started pacing back and forth, “—And let’s not forget the kids could get sick, and like—”

“We got it” Johnny said, gently leaning down to her level and brushing the stress off her shoulders.

“Two of us can always go back to camp so the bus isn’t left unmonitored” Johnny said, hands on his hips. “The other two can stay, set up the tents, and spend the night with the kids.” He looked over his shoulder at them. “There’s no way we’re making it back before it gets too dark.”

“No way, bro” Doyoung said, shaking his head. “I’m not spending the night in a tent while it pours.” Johnny rolled his eyes.

“Also, me and Doyoung have to organize the Pine Party for tomorrow night. We have to go back.” Ryunjin added, arms crossed in disapproval. “I can stay” you offered, trying to hide your nervousness. “But we need to set up the tents now before it starts to pour. You two better head back to the bus.”

The weight of responsibility over the kids was heavy on your shoulders. As much as you wanted to be the one going back to camp, you couldn’t risk disappointing the director—not as the newbie. “Fine” Johnny said through clenched teeth, clearly annoyed with the other two. “But if something happens along the path, come back here. You never know.” The two of them nodded and left like they’d just been grounded.

That’s when it hit you: you were spending the night with a bunch of kids… and Johnny.

You tried not to make it weird. Ryunjin and Doyoung hadn’t teased you or said anything, but as soon as they turned around, they exchanged a look, eyebrows raised like they knew something. “Are we gonna sleep all in one tent…?” a kid asked, confused. And honestly, it wasn’t a dumb question. There were six kids, and eight of you in total. You opened the hut, searching for the tents—and found only three. You called Johnny over and explained the situation.

“The kids can’t sleep with adults, that’s one thing” he said, scratching his head. It was definitely a problem. “Well…I can always sleep in the hut. It’s—” you said, but Johnny shook his head. “This hut that leaks and has holes in it?” he said, smacking the wall, which looked like it could fall apart any second. You lifted your shoulders in a helpless shrug and kept them up. “I don’t know.”

The air got awkward again, as it always did between you two. You knew what the best outcome was—sharing a tent with Johnny, and letting the kids have the other two. But saying it out loud felt impossible. If it were Mark, you wouldn’t care, though you knew he snored. But Johnny? He’d definitely take up space, and you didn’t even know each other that well. The idea of sleeping that close to him felt like you might explode.

“I mean… are you okay with— I can sleep in the hut, it’s not a big deal—” Johnny realized it sounded like he was making you uncomfortable.

“No, no! Are you crazy? Like you said, this hut’s full of holes. The wind could wreck your throat. No. No way.” You both sighed. “It’s fine with me” you said, looking up at him. “Okay…if it’s not a problem, then let’s just…” Johnny cleared his throat, awkward again, and started pulling the three tents out of the hut you’d been spending way too much time in. The kids stared, clearly confused.

“Alright…let’s set up the tents, guys” Johnny said, trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked a little with tension.

The sun dipped lower behind the hills as everyone scrambled to set up the tents. You ended up helping two kids try to figure out which pole went where, while Johnny fought with the wind and a stubborn zipper. “C’mon–get up” he muttered, wrestling with the fabric. You smirked. “Maybe it’s trying to tell you something.”

He shot you a look. “Like what?” “That you shouldn’t have volunteered to stay?” you leaned on the pole. He let go of the zipper and wiped his forehead dramatically. “Trust me, I didn’t. Those two little shits would do anything but help an old man out.” you rolled your eyes, as he was acting like he was 70 years old.

You two tried to be playful as much as you could, you didn’t want to make this more awkward than it already was.

04 The night

Once the tents were finally up and the kids had been assigned their sleeping spots, the air settled into a quiet tension you were all too familiar with. You and Johnny stood near the hut, watching the sky grow darker by the minute. He pulled something out of his pocket—a fresh pack of cigarettes.

You glanced at him, pretending to be offended. “You’re gonna smoke near the kids? Aren’t you ash—give me one.” You dropped the act halfway through, holding out your hand. His lips curled into the tiniest smirk, as he passed you a cigarette without a word, then lit it for you. This time, it wasn’t awkward, but your heart still beat faster than usual. You caught him staring at your lips as you inhaled near the flame.

Trying to cut through the tension, you gave him a thumbs up, like it was no big deal. Just him lighting up a cigarette for you, looking at you like he wanted to be the cigarette between your lips. Nothing serious.

You met his dreamy half lidded eyes, and neither of you looked away, not even for a second. Then a sudden raindrop landed right on your cheek. Then another. Then even more. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” You wiped your face just as the sky let loose. “Come here” Johnny grabbed your wrist without thinking, and the two of you ran toward the tent for cover, both of you cursing as the rain hit full force.

You barely managed to unzip it in time, but once you finally got in, you sat back against the tent wall, trying to catch your breath. Johnny sat across from you, wet hair sticking to his forehead, his wet shirt clinging to his shoulders. You couldn’t help but stare, it felt like looking at a Renaissance sculpture, where the chiseled muscles were somehow even more defined under the thinnest veil.

He tried to play it cool, taking a sip from his water bottle. “Do you think Ryunjin and Doyoung got back by now?”

“Well, Jesus, let’s hope” he replied, glancing up at the tent that was holding strong. He started moving toward you, and you froze. He picked up a torch.

“I’m gonna check on the kids. They could’ve all flown away by now.” You nodded, and as he left, you sighed deeply. Taking the opportunity, you changed. Once you were dry, you sat back down, waiting. There was a soft glow from the tent’s fabric that made everything feel dreamlike.

Then you heard the zipper unzip, and a tall figure struggled to squeeze inside. Even though he’d left only briefly, you couldn’t help but notice how much space he took up. You scooted over to make room. You had to admit, it was cozy—and he smelled really nice.

As you looked at him more clearly, you noticed he’d changed clothes, probably back at the hut. His hair was still a little damp, but it suited him.

“The kids? They all disappeared. I swear I saw them floating near the lake. Shit’s crazy out there...” You chuckled at his stupid joke. He’d made you worry for the first few seconds. You hit his arm playfully, though he probably only felt a small breeze on his huge bicep, which was decorated with pretty tattoos. “Want a picture? It lasts longer.”

“Corny” you rolled over as he smirked. You didn’t know why, but you both found yourselves whispering, as if you didn’t want the kids in the other tents to overhear you.

He laid down carefully, trying not to tug on your hair. You were close, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Your knees brushed together, and you shifted slightly, your breath catching as your eyes met his. His gaze was heavy and tired. “It’ll be fine, right?” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Yeah... of course” you breathed back, heart pounding.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by fine, the kids? the storm? the camp? …or this? Whatever this was. While your thoughts raced, he reached out and gently brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than they needed to. The touch sent a warmth straight down between your legs.

You swallowed. His weight rested on one bicep, and he was practically hovering over you, staring down. This time, his eyes were more intense. You didn’t know what to do, so you just laid your hand over his.

His skin was warm beneath your palm. Outside, the rain kept pouring, your eyes glittered in the dim light, neither of you said anything. You didn’t want to.

His thumb shifted slightly under your hand, brushing against your lower lip. The touch was small, but your whole body reacted. His face was close now, his gorgeous lips parted like he wanted to say something but changed his mind. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to stop it. But you didn’t. When his lips met yours, it was soft. But the second your hand moved to his neck, pulling him just slightly closer, something shifted.

As the kiss deepened, you got needier, you wanted to feel his body so close you’d have to get under his skin, your kiss became sloppier and more intense, he moved his hand down, reaching your sensitive neck. His hands weren't soft, but they were warm and trailed down your waist, then your hip. You moved your hand up to his hair, gently grabbing it, letting him know you wanted more.

As he met your gaze once again, he shifted lower near your stomach, he gently started to kiss it, looking up from time to time. The dim light made his honey brown eyes glow, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. Outside the rain was pouring faster, and harder.

He then got even lower, he had both of his hands on your hips now, he gently took your shorts off your thighs, and then halted, he got back up to kiss you once more, meeting your eyes, like he was waiting for your permission to make you feel good. You blinked at him lightly, he was back down, this time he took off your panties, faster, more desperate. Your hips clenched as a response, as you heatedly waited.

“Ease up, I’m not going anywhere.” he teased, looking up at you, making your stomach flip. He started to caress your core and you tried to listen to him, but when he dipped his jaw between your tights you blurted out a small whimper. He started to run his fingers over your thighs, then on your ass, lifting up your hips for a better control over you.

You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this with him, here, of all places. It felt like the world outside had disappeared, like the only thing that existed was the space between you two.

Flicking his tongue between the folds, he reached the spot, desperately seeking for that feeling, you pleaded “—right there”, he kept going until you frantically arched your hips, keeping his head close between your thighs. As you looked down at him you could only see his closed eyes and the messy hair sticking on his forehead. His big arms were keeping your hips in place, as he hungrily went down on you.

“Fuck, keep going—” you grunted, trying to keep your voice low by covering your mouth with the back of your hand. As you were about to reach your orgasm, he started to apply more pressure on your clit, then he delved his tongue in your slit, parting your lips gently. As you reached your climax, you tensed up whimpering desperately, your core pulsing at the hot touch of his lips, you exhaled, finally dissolving into pleasure.

He kissed your inner thigh and then looked up at you, as soon as he got closer to your face you kissed him passionately, like a reward. His cheeks were flushed and his chin was coated by a sheer layer of your juice and his saliva, his lips swollen. He shifted slightly, as he growled, his breath tickling your ear, “c’mon baby” he murmured, you could hear he was smiling. You were good at being quiet, although he would have loved hearing your moans better. There was no worry in it, because somehow, you both knew this wouldn’t be your last time.

As your body began to cool, he pulled you closer into his strong arms, wrapping you in the warmth of his embrace. His broad frame was solid around you. And as the rain softened, falling in a quieter rhythm, all you could hear was the steady comfort of his breathing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and the two of you drifted off, no longer worrying about the tent being crowded.

update: check out my new post :3

a/n: Ok so its been so long since i actually wrote a fan fiction. I hope you enjoyed my first time writing smut too…ToT