#jisung x reader

[hyuckiefluff]

nasty habits | park jisung

pairing: pervy!jisung x camgirl! reader

genre: smut, a little bit of fluff at the end

summary: what happens when you find out that your top spender as a cam girl isn’t some rich old guy, but an awkward boy from your campus?

wc: 20k+

warnings: cam girl activities, usage of sex toys, cursing, loss of virginity, sub!jisung, masturbation (like a lot of it), oral sex (fem.receiving), jisung is his usual introverted self (and only loud during sex), a lot of sexualization and just overall horniness lol. lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: heeey loves! i was absolutely floored with the amount of love that my latest fic got, so here i am with another one for you. this is my first jisung fic so im excited but also nervous bc jisung is one of my biases. idk why it took me so long to write him. but anyways i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. ps; y/n is terrible at recognizing people or remembering names and i’m only putting that here bc it comes out a few times in the fic lol (she’s just like me fr), ALSO, this is loosely inspired by BJ Alex. oh and one last thing, the idea for this fic or at least the characters’ dynamic was inspired by this tweet.

your college days have been, for the most part, unremarkable in the best way. you pulled decent grades, had a solid group of friends, and were generally well-liked.

but despite being somewhat popular, you managed to keep a lot about yourself private.

and by that, you mean the secret life that only a handful of your closest friends knew about.

after all, being a cam girl wasn’t exactly your average college hobby.

it started on a whim, born from equal parts boredom and curiosity. at first, you had no idea what you were doing. your streams were awkward, your lighting was bad, and your concept was nonexistent. but after a few months, you found your niche and suddenly, you were kind of a big deal on the platform.

granted, the website you streamed on was pretty obscure, the kind of place you could name in public, and nobody would so much as glance your way. still, you made decent money. enough to pay for your first two years of college, entirely out of pocket.

you never flaunted it, and most of your friends didn’t care to pry. they only ever joked about it, like they were doing now after you casually mentioned how much you’d earned last month.

“girl, what the hell. maybe i should start camming too,” giselle said, eyes wide as she stared at the number on your screen.

“you say that like it’s a joke, but i’m dead serious,” karina chimed in, striking a dramatic pose in front of the mirror. “i checked my bank account yesterday and almost cried.”

“i mean, i’m not saying you should, but if you need pointers…” you teased, shooting them a wink

“for real though, you’ve gotten so much confidence from this,” giselle pointed out, leaning back against the bed frame.

“oh yeah, nothing boosts your self-esteem like a 60 year old man telling you your ‘princess bits’ are so pretty he busted one in his pants,” you deadpanned, propping your chin on your hand.

“okay, they can’t all be old men,” karina snorted “like can you see their profiles or anything?” she asked, abandoning the mirror and flopping onto the bed beside you.

“not really. just their usernames and how much they’ve spent on my channel.”

“wait, check your top supporter!” giselle said, bouncing a little in excitement.

you scrolled through the dashboard until his username popped up. the moment your friends saw how much he’d spent on you this year, they both let out a loud gasp.

“what in the sugar daddy is this?” karina said, laughing in disbelief. “eighteen thousand dollars? that’s literally my entire tuition!”

“i don’t get the full amount, though. the site takes a cut, then there’s taxes and all that,” you clarified, shrugging.

“still! that’s insane,” giselle said, shaking her head. “honestly, i don’t feel bad about you paying for our sushi nights anymore.”

you laughed, leaning back into your pillows.

“but aren’t you even a little curious about who this…” karina squinted at the screen, “andyp4rk02 is? i need to know everything about this man.”

“i mean, of course i’m curious. but there’s no way to find out,” you said, twirling a strand of hair absentmindedly.

“unless…” giselle said, dragging the word out with a sly grin.

you raised a brow. “unless what?”

“haechan.”

you frowned. “what about him?”

“he could probably hack into this thing,” she said with a casual wave of her hand, as if that wasn’t a completely ridiculous suggestion.

“giselle, he’s a computer science major, not a dark web hacker,” karina said, rolling her eyes.

“okay, but remember when i got locked out of my netflix? he did some tech magic on his computer and got my account back.”

“yeah, because recovering a netflix account is exactly the same as hacking into a cam site,” you said dryly.

“i’m just saying, have you seen his setup? it’s literally something out of a spy movie,” giselle insisted.

karina shrugged. “it wouldn’t hurt to ask him…”

you hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t know, guys…”

“oh, come on,” karina said, nudging your shoulder. “don’t you want to know who this guy is?”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

they somehow managed to convince you, which was how you found yourself shivering outside haechan’s dorm, rubbing your arms to keep warm. the air was biting, and as always, haechan wasn’t picking up his phone.

“when he opens this door, i’m kicking him straight in the balls,” you muttered, bouncing on your toes to stave off the cold. giselle was furiously rubbing her hands up and down your arms and karina’s, trying to share what little warmth she had.

“we should’ve called earlier,” karina said through chattering teeth, her lower lip trembling. “he might not even be in.”

giselle huffed dramatically. “okay, this is ridiculous.” she stepped back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “lee haechan, come out right now!” her voice echoed down the street, startling a group of students walking by.

“haechan! get your ass down here!” you joined in, your voice cracking slightly in the cold.

karina gave a small, pitiful laugh. “he lives on the second floor… there’s no way he heard that.”

before she could finish, the door creaked open, revealing one of his roommates. you recognized him immediately but, as usual, couldn’t recall his name. he was younger than you by a year and usually kept to himself whenever you visited.

“uh… hey?” he said, blinking at the sight of the three of you standing there like frostbitten strays. he leaned awkwardly against the doorframe, clearly wondering why three girls were yelling outside their dorm at 9 p.m. on a tuesday.

giselle, ever the charmer, broke into a dazzling smile. “hi! thank you! we’re here for haechan.”

“okay,” he said quietly, still eyeing you all with suspicion. “he’s probably in his room playing league or something.” he stepped aside slowly, letting you in.

“thank you,” you muttered as you walked past, catching the way his gaze immediately dropped to the floor when you made eye contact.

once inside, you didn’t waste any time. storming up to haechan’s door, you knocked violently before pushing it open without waiting for an answer.

“what the hell—” haechan swiveled in his gaming chair, his startled expression melting into a sly grin as soon as he saw you. “hii, girls. to what do i owe the pleasure?” his tone shifted into his mock customer service voice as he leaned back, giving you his most charming smile.

giselle jabbed a finger into his shoulder, making him wince. “were you jerking off, or is your phone shoved up your ass? why didn’t you answer our calls?”

“sorry, i was mid-round, and my phone was on silent,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and smiling sheepishly.

karina folded her arms and sat on the edge of his bed, only to spring back up with a grimace. “ugh, have you even left your room this week?” she asked, glaring at the mountain of empty takeout containers and water bottles scattered across the floor.

“it’s winter break,” haechan said, turning back to his computer and clicking out of the game. “of course i haven’t.”

giselle gestured dramatically at the mess. “you’re one step away from being in a hoarders episode, dude.”

haechan ignored her, spinning in his chair to face you again. “so, what brings such beautiful company to my humble abode?” his eyes lingered on you pointedly.

“he only looked at y/n while saying that. wow.” giselle placed a hand on her chest in mock offense.

“she’s not gonna suck your dick, haechan,” karina said flatly, shaking her head.

“i didn’t even say anything!” he protested, deflating slightly in his chair, his pout almost comical.

“anyway,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “i need a favor.”

haechan perked up immediately. “anything for you,” he said with a wink, which earned an exaggerated gagging noise from karina.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “okay, first: how’s your hacking game these days?”

“eh… like a seven. why?”

“do you think you could, uh, hack into angel corner?”

his eyebrows shot up. “oh, oh.” he swiveled back to his computer, clearly intrigued. “i mean, i’m not super familiar with their system—it depends on their encryption layers and backend coding. but…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. “it shouldn’t be too hard. why do you want me to hack them, though?”

you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, trying to look as innocent as possible. “just… curious about one of my subscribers.”

giselle chimed in unhelpfully. “her top subscriber.”

haechan spun his chair back around, narrowing his eyes. “and what exactly do you want to know?”

you hesitated, glancing at karina and giselle. the truth was, you hadn’t really thought this through.

“everything,” karina said firmly, her eyes glinting with a kind of mischievous excitement.

haechan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “okay, but what’s in it for me?”

giselle thought for a second and then grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “y/n will sit on your lap while you do your nerdy shit.”

haechan shot out of his chair, clapping his hands. “deal!”

“huh?! i did not agree to this.” you immediately protested.

“c’mooon,” giselle said with a pout. “don’t you want to know?”

haechan patted his lap smugly. “don’t worry, baby. i don’t bite.”

groaning, you finally gave in, muttering curses under your breath as you sat on his lap. he sighed contentedly, spinning back toward his computer. with a few quick clicks, he opened a screen that looked straight out of a movie just as giselle said before. lines of code and strange tabs you didn’t recognize.

“how do you even know how to do this?” you asked, leaning slightly to the side to avoid touching his chest.

“self-taught,” he replied with a shrug.

“great,” you muttered. “i’m trusting a bootleg hacker to invade my subscriber’s privacy. that’s just fantastic.”

“hey, relax,” haechan said, grinning. “you’re in good hands.”

“can we get this over with so i can get off you?” you groaned, shifting uncomfortably on haechan’s lap.

“why? i’m cozy,” he said with a cheeky grin, snuggling into your back. you retaliated with a flick to his forehead.

“ow!” he yelped, immediately rubbing the spot. “i’m so nice to you and all you do is hurt me.”

“you’ll cope. now, what’s this?” you asked, pointing at the maze of numbers and codes flickering across the screen.

“this,” he said, his brows knitting in concentration, “is me trying to break through their firewall… which is a lot more complicated than i thought.”

“well, obviously,” karina chimed in from behind you, inspecting her nails, only half invested in the conversation. “that site probably has CEOs and politicians on it. maybe one of them is your top subscriber, because who else has eighteen thousand dollars to blow on a cam girl?”

“what?!” haechan yelled, whipping around so fast you nearly fell off his lap. “eighteen thousand?!”

“that was my ear,” you muttered, steadying yourself.

he cleared his throat dramatically, but his ears flushed pink. “right, sorry. anyway—oh, wait, i’m in!”

“wait, really?!” you leaned forward in excitement, your hands clutching the edge of his desk. “oh my god, that’s so cool, i could kiss you right now!”

“please do,” haechan replied, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“be a man,” karina said, smacking him on the back of his head as she moved closer.

“okay, so… bad news or good news first?” haechan asked, his smug grin returning as he reclined slightly in his chair.

“just rip the band-aid off,” you said, crossing your arms. “what’s the bad news?”

“your top spender is smart. like, annoyingly smart. the only personal info he filled out was his gender, and for his name he used a zelda character.”

“what a virgin,” he added with a laugh.

“look who’s talking,” giselle shot back.

“hey, i’m not the one spending thousands on a cam girl who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” haechan retorted, his tone defensive. “and for the record, i do get some action, thank you very much.”

“sure you do,” karina muttered, rolling her eyes. “anyway, what’s the good news?”

haechan grinned like a cat who’d caught a particularly juicy mouse. “i can get his IP address.”

“wait, for real? what are you waiting for?” giselle leaned in, her eyes darting to the screen.

“hold on.” you hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of your excitement. “isn’t this… a bit much? like, it feels illegal.”

giselle waved a hand dismissively. “please. we’ve come this far… we can’t leave with just this. we already knew he was a guy. only a man would be that desperate.”

“and besides,” karina added, “you’ve been sitting on this nerd’s lap for twenty minutes. make it worth something.”

“touché,” giselle said, nodding. “by the way, you can get up now.”

“yeah, but…” you paused, shifting slightly. “he was right—his lap is cozy.”

“told ya,” haechan said smugly, shooting you a wink. “so, should i pull up his IP or what?”

you sighed covering your face with your hands, hoping it would make the shame and ethical gray area feel a little less overwhelming “ugh. fine. just do it.”

haechan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of taps and clicks as lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen. within three minutes, he sat back triumphantly.

“got it,” he said. but then his smile faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion. “wait… that can’t be right.”

“what?” you dropped your hands and leaned forward. “what’s wrong?”

karina’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen. “isn’t that…?”

giselle’s voice was barely above a whisper. “isn’t that this dorm?”

you all stared at the address blinking on the screen. it was the exact building you were sitting in.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“you’ve all been staring at me for the past three minutes, and i’m feeling very threatened right now,” haechan said, his voice trembling.

the three of you stood in front of him, arms crossed and glares locked onto his soul.

“well, we just think it’s way too much of a freaky coincidence that her top spender just so happens to live here,” giselle said, her tone accusatory. “care to explain?”

“wait, wait, wait,” haechan stammered, his hands flying up in surrender. “you’re not seriously implying i’m the top spender, right? cause that’s just—” he laughed nervously, “—ridiculous!”

“oh, is it?” karina quipped, raising a perfectly arched brow. “you’re always flirting with y/n and acting like a simp. what’s a few thousand dollars for your ‘queen’?”

“oh, come on!” haechan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “i’m naturally a flirty guy. that’s my thing! and where do you guys think i’d even get that kind of money?”

he gestured around the room to back up his claim. the pile of ramen cups and the stack of free campus hoodies spoke louder than he ever could.

“besides,” he added, dropping his arms, “i’m not even subscribed to her channel. i admit i checked it out a few times after y/n told me about it, but i promise i’m not a weirdo or anything. you’re my best friend, y/n.”

his voice softened at the end, and you felt yourself relaxing slightly. haechan might be a flirt, a tease, and a relentless pain in the ass, but he wasn’t the kind of person to keep something like this hidden from you.

“he’s telling the truth, you guys,” you said finally, breaking the tension.

karina tilted her head, sizing him up. “yeah, i didn’t think a bum like him would drop that much money on you anyway.” she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “he asked me for five dollars the other day… by the way, give me back my money.”

“dude, it was five bucks! let it go,”

“let it go?” karina shot back. “i could’ve gotten a latte with that!”

“okay, okay,” giselle cut in, waving her hands to calm them down. “if it’s not haechan, who else could it be? is there anyone in this dorm who’s… obsessed with you?”

you blinked, thinking hard. “not that i know of. i mean, i don’t really talk to anyone here except for haechan.”

“how many guys live here?” giselle asked, turning to haechan.

“including me? 5,” he said, counting on his fingers. “but i’m pretty sure jeno has a girlfriend... so that leaves mark, jaemin, and jisung.”

“since when has having a girlfriend ever stopped a man from doing something shady?” karina deadpanned, crossing her arms.

“true,” haechan admitted with a shrug, “but let’s be real, girls… all of them are full-time students barely scraping by with part-time jobs. i doubt any of them have that kind of cash to drop freely.”

“you never know,” giselle chimed in. “isn’t mark’s brother the dealer on campus? maybe he borrowed some money.”

karina snorted. “you’re forgetting mark is practically a saint. the guy’s too religious and too much of a goody two-shoes to even think about something like that.”

“okay, what about jaemin?” giselle countered. “he’s always wearing designer stuff. what if he’s secretly loaded?”

karina gave her an incredulous look. “have you seen jaemin? he’s got a different girl drooling over his shoulder every other day. i don’t think he needs to subscribe to a cam girl to satisfy himself and i’m sure all those were gifts from desperate girls”

“then that leaves jisung,” you said slowly, the name clicking into place. “wait… isn’t he the one who let us in earlier? the freshman?”

karina nodded. “oh right, the tall awkward kid. that would explain why he couldn’t even look at you.”

“wait, jisung?” haechan burst out laughing. “no way. the kid’s barely in his twenties! you’re telling me he somehow scraped together eighteen thousand dollars to spend on y/n?”

“well, he does live in this building so that makes him a suspect…” giselle reasoned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“ugh, this is getting too weird,” you muttered, pacing the small room. “are we really saying jisung might be the guy?”

“i mean, you never know,” karina said with a smirk. “quiet ones are always full of surprises.”

haechan groaned, flopping back into his chair. “this is turning into a bad episode of CSI”

“if he’s the top spender, that means he has a thing for y/n,” giselle said, grinning. “we should just ask him directly.”

“absolutely not,” you said quickly, your face heating up.

“why not?” karina teased. “we’re already halfway to solving this mystery. might as well get the confession.”

“no, i think this has already gotten out of control… you guys are too caught up on finding who it is but personally i don’t care that much, i’m fine with not knowing”

“really, even after finding out he’s living in this very dorm?” karina asked walking up to you.

“yeah. i don’t care.” you were lying and they could probably tell by your face but, surprisingly, they didn’t press you.

“okay, fine. let’s go home.”

“i think we should have a sleepover. what do you think, girls?” haechan said and you responded by throwing a pillow at him as you exited the room.

“damn, not even a thank you.” he said, rubbing his head.

you sprinted back into the room and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “thank you!” you said sweetly.

“and clean your room, it stinks!” you yelled from the hallway.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

winter break had ended, and after coming back from visiting your family, you’d mostly forgotten about the fact that your top spender lived in one of your best friend’s dorms.

but your dismissive attitude disappeared as soon as the new term started.

suddenly, you were hyper-aware of every one of haechan’s roommates. even the ones you’d previously ruled out. like, why was jeno suddenly smiling at you from across the dining hall? and was that… a smirk you saw on mark’s face as you walked by? certainly not—you had to be imagining things. you were just being extremely paranoid.

“hey, gorg!!!” giselle greeted you with extra enthusiasm, practically bouncing into the room.

“you’re happy today,” karina observed, raising an eyebrow.

“i am! i really think i cracked this case, y’all.”

you sighed, already bracing yourself. “enlighten us,” you said flatly.

karina rolled her eyes. “you do know no one cares anymore, right?”

giselle ignored her and continued. “by the way, how were you guys’ breaks?” she asked casually before immediately cutting herself off. “never mind, we’ll get to that later. listen, i was in line for food earlier, and guess who i saw?”

when neither of you spoke, she dramatically continued, “jaemin.”

“fork found in kitchen. of course he’d be at the cafeteria during lunch,” you said, unimpressed.

“no, but listen! i said hi to him, and he flinched so hard he nearly dropped his phone. then he tried to hide it.”

“maybe somebody sent him nudes or something,” karina said, shrugging.

giselle shook her head, leaning in conspiratorially. “no, but catch this… he asked if i was here alone, and when i pointed at you”—she turned to you with a wide grin—“he blushed furiously.”

you tsked, slumping back in your chair. “that still proves nothing.”

“okay, but isn’t it suspicious?” giselle pressed. “why would he blush that hard just because i mentioned you?”

“because he’s a human being with a working circulatory system?” you shot back.

karina snorted. “for real. giselle, you’re acting like you just uncovered a government conspiracy.”

“you guys are just blind,” giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “mark my words… it’s him. jaemin’s the one.”

“even if it was him, what am i supposed to do with that information? march up to him and say, ‘hey, thanks for the eighteen grand’?”

“you should,” karina said with a smirk. “at least get him to buy you lunch.”

giselle sighed dramatically, feeling like she was surrounded by fools. “fine. don’t believe me. but when this all comes out, just remember i called it first.”

“boo!”

haechan’s voice was directly in your ear, and you jumped so hard you nearly spilled your coffee all over yourself.

“what the hell! i almost ruined my new skirt,” you snapped, quickly checking to make sure no drops had actually landed on the fabric.

“did you buy that with jaemin’s allowance?” he teased, a grin stretching across his face.

you responded by flipping him off, which only made him laugh as he slid into the seat next to you.

“you heard everything?” karina asked, giving him an unimpressed look.

“hard not to,” he replied casually. “in case you didn’t know, gi, your discreet voice is about as discreet as a foghorn.”

giselle rolled her eyes. “thanks for the input, hacker boy.”

“i’ve already said to drop the topic,” you cut in, frustrated. “what if one of them hears? and! you guys are being so obvious about it… don’t think i haven’t noticed the pointed stares you keep giving to every guy from the dorm. i’m sure they’ve noticed, too.”

“we’re just trying to help,” giselle said, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force.

“and i do appreciate it,” you replied, though your tight smile probably said otherwise, “but i’d appreciate it even more if we all just moved on.”

your tone made it clear that the discussion was over, and the table fell into an awkward silence.

you felt a little bad about shutting them down so abruptly, but the truth was, you didn’t want them to figure out who your top spender was. not because you cared about protecting his identity, exactly… but because you feared that, in the process, they’d also find out the full truth:

you’d already interacted with him before.

not just casually, either. your top spender had paid for private sessions. more than once.

you still didn’t know what he looked like since he’d never turned on his camera but you could probably recognize his voice. a voice that, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, had been replaying in your head ever since that night you found out he was likely a student in this university. a deep voice that had a habit of making your heart race despite your best efforts to stay professional.

“i know you said to drop it, but is it just me or does hae’s nerdy friend keep looking this way every few seconds?” karina asked, nodding subtly toward a table a few feet away.

you turned your head, catching a glimpse of jisung sitting by himself, fiddling with his phone. “maybe he wants to sit with us,” you shrugged. “call him over, hae.”

“yo, jisung!” haechan called, raising a hand to wave the taller boy over.

jisung froze in place, his eyes widening briefly before he hastily shoved on his headphones and scurried away like a startled deer.

you frowned, puzzled. “what was that about?”

“that was so weird,” giselle snorted, biting back a laugh.

“ah, he’s just awkward like that,” haechan said with a casual wave of his hand. “probably saw me sitting with gorgeous girls” he locked eyes with you as he said this “and got scared.”

“anyways,” you rolled your eyes, but the slight twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed your amusement. “i have to go.”

“part-time obligations?” karina asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

“possibly,” you shrugged nonchalantly as you got up.

“can i come?” haechan asked.

you rolled your eyes at haechan’s hopeful grin as he stood up. “you wish,” you said, pushing him back into his seat before grabbing your bag and heading out.

your destination wasn’t your dorm or the library. instead, you made your way to the small studio you rented off-campus, tucked far enough away to avoid suspicion.

the studio was modest, just big enough to fit a bed, a desk, a small bathroom, and your filming setup. the air smelled faintly of vanilla, thanks to the diffuser you kept running to set the mood. locking the door behind you, you exhaled deeply and began preparing for the night.

the routine was familiar, almost comforting. you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you mentally ran through the checklist. after drying off, you slipped into your costume for the night—a delicate white lace dress with baby blue accents that hugged your body in all the right places.

at the vanity, you carefully applied your makeup, adding just enough to transform yourself into collette, your cam girl persona and paired with a small mask that covered your eyes and half of your nose. the wig was the final touch, a wavy style that framed your face perfectly, making you almost unrecognizable from your day-to-day self.

“let’s see,” you adjusted the camera angle to capture the bed and the soft glow of the fairy lights behind it.

you glanced at the table beside the bed, where the new toys you’d promised to showcase were neatly arranged. taking one last look in the mirror, you marveled at how different you looked.

“all right,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your reflection one last time. “let’s get this show started.”

you hit start on your stream, and the chat immediately flooded with messages, emojis, and tips.

“hi, guys!” you greeted, your voice shifting into a higher, sweeter tone. “missed you all so much during the break.”

the messages came in rapid-fire:

“omg collette’s back!”

“you look stunning as always.”

“been waiting for this for weeks!”

you giggled, leaning closer to the camera so that your cleavage filled the frame. “you’re all too sweet. did you miss me that much?”

the chat practically exploded with affirmations, and the pings of tips coming in made you smile wider.

“i see you guys like the new outfit,” you teased, slowly standing to give them a full view of your legs, moisturized and shimmering under the warm light. “but i didn’t just dress up for no reason. i have a surprise for you tonight.”

you reached for the toys on the desk, holding one up for the camera. “look what i got during the break,” you said, biting your lip playfully. “i thought you’d want to help me break them in.”

the tips surged as viewers expressed their excitement, but one notification caught your eye. andyp4rk02 has tipped $100.

you grinned, recognizing the username instantly. “hi, andy,” you said, your tone dropping to something more intimate. “you’re late today. i thought you’d ditched me for someone else.”

a new ping followed, this time $50, accompanied by a highlighted message: “sorry ;) private livestream later to make it up to you?”

you laughed softly, leaning back on the bed. “hmm,” you tapped your chin thoughtfully. “i think i can squeeze you in on my busy schedule.” with a wink, you moved to grab one of the toys, careful not to linger too long on a single viewer.

“shall we begin?” you asked, spreading your legs slightly to reveal that you were wearing nothing underneath the flimsy lace dress.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

on the other side of the screen, jisung sat in his dimly lit dorm, his face illuminated only by the glow of his computer. he’d barely made it back in time, his breath still heavy from the sprint across campus. it didn’t help that the second he clicked into your livestream, you were already spread out on the bed, teasing the camera with that perfect smile.

he adjusted his glasses nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. his heart was racing, but not from the run. no, it was from you. when you spread your legs, his breath hitched, and he felt his stomach tighten.

“you’re late today,” you’d said, and jisung shivered. god, it was like you were talking directly to him. well, you technically were, but still.

almost as if on autopilot, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. his fingers wrapped around himself, and he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen.

the angle of the camera was perfect. from his perspective, it was easy to imagine that it wasn’t the pink dildo but his own dick sliding in and out of you.

“fuck,” he whispered under his breath as you slid the dildo inside yourself, your lips parting in a perfect "o" shape as you let out a soft moan.

“feels so good,” you breathed into the camera, your lashes fluttering. “can you make me feel good, too?”

“yes,” jisung groaned, his voice shaky as he gripped himself tighter. “god, yes.”

your moans grew louder, your body arching in a way that made his pulse skyrocket. his brows furrowed, and he bit down on his lip, trying to keep quiet so none of his roommates would hear.

you tilted your head back, the camera catching the curve of your neck and the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. “don’t stop,” you whimpered.

as your voice came through his headphones, sultry and sweet, he muttered to himself, “so perfect. so perfect it’s insane.”

his hand moved faster, his mind filled with nothing but the image of you—so close, yet so untouchable.

he leaned closer, his breath fogging the screen for a moment. “god… i can make you feel so much better than that piece of plastic,” he muttered, his tone almost resentful.

“you don’t even know what i’d do to you,” he whispered

in a minute, jisung came hard, his entire body jerking as his cum shot up and splattered directly onto his keyboard and monitor. he barely registered the mess he made until he heard the faint crackle of his PC struggling under the assault.

“no, no, no—fuck!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking as he scrambled to wipe the pc with the sleeve of his hoodie.

it was too late. the screen flickered, the image of you mid-moan freezing for a few painful seconds before the whole system shorted out with a pathetic wheeze and went black. jisung sat there in stunned silence for a moment, his hand still clutching the stained hoodie sleeve.

“shit…” he muttered, not out of concern for his destroyed PC but because he was now going to miss the rest of your live.

this wasn’t the first time this happened. clearly, his setup was already on its last legs from similar incidents but it still sent a wave of frustration through him.

he slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “guess i’ll just have to catch the replay,” he mumbled, though the thought didn’t satisfy him nearly as much.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the first day of the semester loomed the next morning. you had promised yourself this was the year you’d start fresh. on time to every class, taking meticulous notes, and becoming the academic weapon you’d always meant to be.

of course, none of that happened.

you didn’t hear your alarm because you’d been up until 3 a.m. doing private livestreams for your top subscribers. normally, private sessions didn’t last more than 20 minutes, but andy had an uncanny way of distracting you with his playful, teasing messages, keeping you hooked well past the scheduled time.

you ran into your first class fifteen minutes late, panting slightly and trying not to look as frazzled as you felt. the professor shot you a disapproving look, but a quick apologetic smile from you had him stammering and waving you off. men are so simple, you thought smugly.

after quickly scanning the room, you noticed all the front-row seats were taken which left you with no choice but to settle near the back. you sighed and headed to an open seat in the second-to-last row, cursing your luck.

on your right sat some frat guy you vaguely recognized from the same house as karina’s boyfriend. his name escaped you, but since he was already asleep with his mouth hanging open, you didn’t bother introducing yourself.

on your left, the person was less immediately recognizable. he was hunched over, hoodie drawn tight around his face, typing furiously on his laptop. his long, slender fingers flew across the keyboard with precision, but he didn’t seem remotely aware of your presence.

you cleared your throat softly, hoping to get his attention. nothing.

you tried again, slightly louder this time, but his focus didn’t waver. finally, you tapped his shoulder lightly.

“excuse me, did i miss anything important?”

his fingers froze mid-typing, but he still didn’t look at you. instead, he tilted his laptop slightly in your direction, revealing a neatly formatted list of bullet points. most likely corrections to the syllabus the professor went over at the start of class.

“oh,” you said, caught off guard. “can i take a pic of that?”

he gave a small nod, still not meeting your eyes.

you quickly snapped a photo and smiled. “thank you so much,” you said, your tone warm as you instinctively squeezed his forearm in gratitude.

you felt his entire body stiffen under your touch, his arm tense as if you’d zapped him.

“mhm…” he finally muttered, his voice low and rough from disuse.

you glanced at him again, catching a glimpse of his side profile as he adjusted his hoodie. sharp jawline, glasses slightly askew, and lips pressed into a thin line as he quickly returned his focus to his laptop.

you tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.

“well, thanks again,” you said softly, giving him one last smile before turning back to face the professor.

behind his laptop, jisung exhaled shakily, the spot where you’d touched him burning.

jisung knew you were one of haechan’s friends. he’d watched you walk in and out of the dorm more times than he cared to admit. you were always laughing, tossing your hair over your shoulder in a way that made jisung’s eyes land on you unavoidably.

normally, he wouldn’t even glance twice at the girls his roommates brought around. they were all the same: loud, shallow, and obsessed with their reflection in any shiny surface.

but you weren’t like them.

he’d noticed it the first time you came over. how your voice was softer, more melodic, how you smelled like warm vanilla instead of the overpowering floral perfumes he hated. he remembered catching a glimpse of you bending down to grab something off the floor and how his gaze lingered too long on the curve of your legs before he snapped his head away.

since then, it had only gotten worse. it annoyed him that his brain seemed to remember every little detail about you. the way your lips always looked plump and shiny, as if you’d just licked them. how your laugh was this low, throaty sound that made his chest feel tight.

it was frustrating, how easily you wormed your way into his thoughts.

and now, here you were, sitting next to him. jisung felt trapped, his senses overwhelmed by your closeness. the faint rustle of your skirt, the way your knee accidentally grazed his thigh, the soft, almost unintentional hum you made as you shifted in your seat.

he knew it was all normal, just small, insignificant things. but to him, it felt like you were doing it on purpose. when you tapped his shoulder, jisung’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. his first thought was how warm your hand was.

his second thought was how unfair it was that you could touch him so casually.

“did i miss anything important?” you asked, your voice sweet, your smile even sweeter.

jisung didn’t respond right away. he was too busy trying not to look at the way your lips curved when you spoke. he knew if he opened his mouth, something embarrassing would come out. so instead, he tilted his laptop screen toward you, his fingers twitching against the keyboard. you asked if you could take a picture, and normally he didn’t like sharing his notes but he nodded before he could even stop himself.

“thank you so much,” you said, your voice dripping with warmth. and then, as if to kill him on the spot, you squeezed his forearm lightly.

jisung felt like static electricity was zipping through his body. his skin tingled where you touched him, and he stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge how his breath hitched.

she doesn’t even know what she’s doing, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. so damn oblivious.

when you crossed your legs, jisung’s eyes flickered downward before he could stop himself. he caught the briefest glimpse of skin, the hem of your skirt riding up just enough to reveal more of your thigh, and his face flushed.

stop it, he scolded himself, tearing his gaze away.

but he couldn’t help it. he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop the way his imagination spiraled. he wondered what it would feel like if you touched him for more than a second. if your fingers lingered. if you looked at him the way you looked at your stupid phone.

his hands curled into fists under the desk, nails digging into his palms. he shifted uncomfortably, trying to will his body into behaving, but your proximity was making it impossible to think straight.

when the professor announced that these would be your assigned seats for the semester, jisung nearly groaned out loud. six months. six months of sitting next to you, of your bare legs grazing his, of your infuriatingly sweet perfume clouding his brain.

how am i supposed to survive this?

jisung clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking to the faint sparkle of lotion on your legs again.

she probably doesn’t even know how many guys in this room would kill to sit where i’m sitting right now, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek.

and yet, despite everything, jisung couldn’t help but feel a sick sort of satisfaction at being this close to you. like he was privy to something no one else was.

and as messed up as it was, he liked that you didn’t know. that you had no idea how much space you took up in his mind.

he glanced sideways at you again, the corner of his lip twitching as you absentmindedly adjusted your skirt.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

jisung bought a new pc, but it wouldn’t be delivered until the end of the week due to delays in the post office. he hated waiting. the old one had been perfect for watching your livestreams but now he was stuck with his laptop. the smaller screen didn’t do you justice. everything felt cramped and wrong, your image reduced to something far too small and impersonal. it frustrated him to no end.

so, in his growing desperation, jisung resorted to something he swore he wouldn’t do: borrowing haechan’s pc. at first, he only asked when he knew haechan would be out for hours, spinning some lie about needing to work on assignments that required a better setup for coding. surprisingly, haechan didn’t question him. he barely seemed to care, too busy running off to hang out with you and your group of friends. lately, you all seemed closer than ever, constantly whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.

not that jisung cared, of course.

but ever since you’d started sitting next to him in class, he couldn’t help but notice you even more. the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs every six or seven minutes or tapped your temple when the professor talked about a complicated topic. he hated that he was paying attention to things he usually wouldn’t. it was a complete waste of time.

today, jisung was forcing himself to focus. he had an essay due tomorrow, and he’d been putting it off for way too long, distracted by you (clearly) and everything Collette— streams, photos, even the grainy replays he managed to dig up online. last night was supposed to be productive, but instead, he’d spent hours rewatching one of the camgirl’s older private streams. by the time he passed out, his laptop was dangerously close to falling off his bed, his boxers halfway down his legs, and his dick sore after a night of relentless jerking off.

he made his way to the library, determined to lock himself in one of the private study rooms and finally finish his work. he needed to focus. no distractions, no excuses.

but when he opened the door to the room he’d booked, all of his resolve shattered.

you were there.

your books and laptop scattered across the table, and you were leaning over, reaching for something just out of your grasp. jisung froze in the doorway, his breath catching as his eyes landed on you. or, more specifically, the strip of black lace peeking out from under your skirt.

he knew he should look away. but his body didn’t seem to get the memo. instead, his eyes remained fixed on the sight, his chest tightening as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room.

his fingers twitched at his side, gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white. why are you wearing that? he thought, the question racing through his mind before he could stop it. are you wearing it for someone?

you shifted slightly, turning your head as if you sensed someone behind you, and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.

“uh—sorry,” jisung croaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “i—uh—this is... my room. i mean, the room i booked.”

you turned fully to him, startled at first, but then your expression softened into a smile when you realized it was him.

“oh, jisung!” you said brightly, smoothing down your skirt. “i didn’t realize this room was taken. sorry, i’ve just been so distracted, i guess i wasn’t paying attention.”

he forced himself to meet your eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. you recognized him now. during the first week of the semester, you’d seemed to be trying to place him in your mind, but he figured you finally connected the dots and realized he was haechan’s roommate after all.

“it’s... fine,” he muttered, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. the sound echoed louder than it should have, making him wince. “i didn’t know anyone would be here.”

“well, i can leave if you want,” you offered, gesturing toward your scattered books and notes. “but if you don’t mind sharing, i really need to finish studying for a test tomorrow.”

jisung hesitated, his mind racing. on one hand, the idea of sharing a small, enclosed space with you was borderline terrifying. but on the other hand, the thought of you leaving made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t like to think too hard about.

“no need,” he mumbled, setting his bag down at the far end of the table. “you can stay.”

you beamed at him, and he felt a weird mix of pride and dread settle in his chest.

“thanks! you’re a lifesaver.”

you turned back to your laptop, leaving him to settle into his seat. jisung tried his best to focus on his essay, but his eyes kept drifting to you: the way you twirled your pen between your fingers, the way your lips pursed as you concentrated, the way your skirt kept riding up with every slight movement.

he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his gaze back to his screen. his essay wasn’t going to write itself, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he could escape this.

but as jisung stared blankly at the screen, the words refused to come to him. his mind was too fogged up, the image of your black lace panties flashing at him. he could still feel the phantom heat pooling uncomfortably low in his stomach.

he adjusted his glasses for the tenth time in five minutes, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie sleeve. he needed to concentrate, needed to shove every inappropriate thought out of his head and focus on the stupid essay that was due in less than twelve hours.

but every tap of your pen, every soft sigh as you read your notes pulled his attention like a magnet. he could feel his skin prickling under the weight of his own thoughts, and it was starting to make him nauseous.

you shifted in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and jisung caught a glimpse of your bare thighs again. he wondered how soft they’d feel under his fingers. he clenched his jaw, staring harder at the blinking cursor on his laptop. just focus. just write.

“hey,” you said suddenly, your voice soft but startling in the quiet room. jisung’s head snapped up so fast his glasses slipped down his nose.

“yeah?” he croaked, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. he cleared his throat and tried again. “what’s up?”

you held up a book. “do you know anything about this? it’s for my history class, but i’m kind of lost on what the professor’s looking for.”

jisung blinked at the book, trying to register the title through the haze clouding his brain. the sight of your manicured fingers gripping the edge of the hardcover didn’t help his focus.

“uh… yeah, i think so,” he mumbled, his words fumbling over themselves. “i took that class last semester. what’s the assignment?”

you slid your chair closer to his, flipping the book open to a highlighted section. jisung stiffened as you leaned in, your shoulder brushing against his.

he could smell your perfume better now. it made his head swim, and his palms sweat.

“here,” you said, pointing to a passage. “i’m supposed to write an analysis on this, but honestly, it’s not making any sense to me.”

jisung forced himself to look at the page, his eyes skimming over the text even though he couldn’t process a single word. your proximity was unbearable, and the way you tilted your head to look at him made him hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.

“um,” he started, his voice cracking again. “it’s… about, uh, symbolism, i think. like how they use imagery to—”

his words faltered as your leg shifted, pressing briefly against his under the table.

“oh, i get it now!” you said, your eyes lighting up as you turned back to the book. “thanks, jisung, you’re really helpful.”

he swallowed hard, nodding stiffly as you returned to your side of the table. his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his laptop, trying desperately to block out the lingering warmth of your touch.

as the first hour dragged on, jisung realized he’d barely touched his essay. instead, he found himself cataloging every little thing you did, learning more about your quirks and mannerisms than the topic he was supposed to be researching.

he noticed the way you squinted slightly when reading something closely. do you need glasses? the thought struck him out of nowhere, and the idea of you wearing a pair made his throat tighten and his dick stir to life.

you only seemed to use blue highlighters and matching blue post-it notes. the monochrome dedication was oddly satisfying to watch. jisung noticed you had a habit of twirling the highlighter between your fingers when you were deep in thought, the motion almost hypnotic.

when you weren’t sipping on your drink or snacking on something you’d fidget endlessly, picking up your phone, or tapping your nails on the table in an uneven rhythm. once, you opened an app but closed it just as quickly, as if scolding yourself for getting distracted. jisung smirked at that.

he noticed the way you pouted while typing, your lips forming a subtle, natural curve. every time you got stuck on something, you’d grab a blank page from your notebook and start scribbling aimlessly sometimes doodling stars or flowers in the margins, other times writing the same word over and over like you were trying to etch it into your brain.

you also had a habit of adjusting your necklace every few minutes, fiddling with the pendant as if grounding yourself. jisung wondered if it had some kind of sentimental value.

and then there was the small gasp you let out every time you found a passage you liked, quickly followed by you underlining it with almost comical precision. jisung thought it was cute, though he tried to push that thought away.

by the time the second hour rolled around, he was practically vibrating with tension. not just from the overwhelming presence of you, but from his own failure to accomplish anything.

you sighed softly and closed your laptop, stretching in your seat with a lazy grace that made his stomach flip. the movement caused your shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin and a tiny birthmark just above your hip bone.

jisung’s eyes widened. it was a small, and it was a flushed, pinkish hue, vaguely resembling the shape of a flower petal—or maybe a heart if he squinted.

why does that look so familiar?

he frowned, his brain scrambling to piece together the connection. it snagged at him, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. had he seen it on you before? no, that didn’t make sense.

and then it hit him.

his heart stuttered as he remembered one of the streams he’d watched not long ago… collette’s stream. she’d been wearing lingerie that night, black with sheer panels, and at one point, she’d adjusted the waistband, revealing a glimpse of a tiny birthmark right above the hip.

holy shit.

jisung’s face burned as he realized the truth, his hands clenching into fists under the table. he couldn’t believe it. the girl he’d been obsessing over online, the one he’d jerked off to more times than he could count, was sitting right next to him.

he stumbled out of his seat, movements clumsy and frantic as he fumbled to gather his things. his hands trembled slightly as he zipped his backpack and he mumbled some half-formed excuse about having plans with haechan. the words tumbled out so quickly they were barely coherent. before you could even process what he was saying, let alone respond, he was already at the door, practically tripping over himself in his rush to leave.

“what an odd kid,” you giggled to yourself, shaking your head at his bizarre behavior.

he was strange, sure, but undeniably cute in his awkwardness. you’d always had a soft spot for guys who didn’t know what to do with themselves, and jisung was no exception. there was something endearing about the way he seemed perpetually out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. but beneath the oversized hoodies and baggy sweatpants, you could tell he was hiding something.

he had broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his clothes in a way that made you want to see more, and you still hadn’t forgotten the time he’d stripped off his hoodie on that unbearably hot day. the hem of his shirt had lifted with it, giving you the briefest glimpse of his waist, narrow and impossibly toned. you’d been thinking about that moment more often than you’d like to admit.

sitting next to him in class had only amplified things. you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted toward you every few minutes, his gaze lingering on your legs before he quickly looked away, as if he thought you wouldn’t notice. that’s exactly why you made it a point to only wear skirts to that class; short ones, ones that made it impossible for him not to look. it was a game, one you were starting to enjoy far too much.

you liked his hands too. he had large hands with long, slender fingers that flew clumsily over the keys of his laptop. you caught yourself staring at them during class, imagining how they’d feel against your skin, the way they’d grip your waist or tangle in your hair. you wondered if they were soft or if they’d leave a pleasant roughness behind.

his glasses added to the appeal, big-framed and slightly crooked on his nose. they couldn’t hide his soft, pretty eyes, though, or the moles scattered across his pale skin. every detail about him seemed perfectly crafted to make him irresistible in the most unassuming way.

but then there was the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind, the one you couldn’t seem to shake: was jisung really your top spender? your friends had been so sure, pointing out all the coincidences, and you couldn’t deny that it was starting to feel like too much to ignore.

you smiled to yourself at the thought, unable to help the way your lips curled into something slightly wicked. haechan had mentioned how much time jisung spent in his room, his activities hardly a secret if you listened to the muffled sounds that occasionally slipped through the walls.

the idea made your pulse quicken, a thrill running down your spine as you considered how to take things to the next level. if jisung was your top spender then he was already yours in ways he probably didn’t even realize.

you toyed with the idea of making the first move, testing the waters to see just how far you could push him. he was skittish, easily flustered, and you had no doubt that one well-placed touch or whispered word would send him into a complete meltdown.

you suspected that if you really went for it, jisung might just have a heart attack on the spot. and for some reason, that thought only made you want to do it more.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the next time you met him in class, you decided it was time to confirm once and for all if he was into you. you dressed for the occasion, a skirt that showed just enough leg to make him squirm, paired with a low-cut top and your favorite push-up bra, the one that made your boobs look perfect. you threw on a sweater for good measure, unzipping it casually when you sat next to him, just enough to reveal the curve of your collarbones and the top of your cleavage.

“hey, jisung!” you said, your voice soft and lilting.

he barely looked at you, his lips moving in what you assumed was a greeting, but it was so quiet you couldn’t make out the words. he didn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, and from the way he kept staring at his laptop, you wondered if he’d even noticed the effort you put into your outfit.

you leaned in slightly, catching the faint scent of his detergent mixed with something musky. “sungie?” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.

his jaw clenched at the nickname, and his hands froze over his laptop keys. “hm?” he finally managed, his eyes flickering up to your face for the briefest of moments before darting away again.

“do you want to work on the project together?” you asked, tilting your head innocently.

his brows furrowed as he blinked at you, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and panic. “what… what project?” he stammered, his voice shaky, his breath audibly hitching when his gaze unintentionally dropped to your chest.

“the one he just announced,” you said, nodding toward the screen where the professor had outlined the details of the group assignment.

you watched as his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow, and he peeled his eyes away from you with visible effort. “oh… uh…” he trailed off, biting his lip. the gesture drew your attention to just how plush and soft they looked.

“if you don’t want to, it’s okay,” you said, leaning back slightly, your pout deliberate and perfectly executed. “i just thought since you helped me with my assignment last time, you’d be a good partner.”

he glanced at you again, his gaze lingering this time, as if trying to gauge your expression. your wide, hopeful eyes seemed to make his decision for him. “okay…” he mumbled, the word barely audible.

“really? yay!” you said, your voice bright with excitement as you reached out and wrapped your hands around his arm in a playful squeeze. the movement was quick, but enough for your chest to press lightly against him, the warmth of your body radiating through his hoodie.

jisung stiffened immediately, every nerve in his body firing off alarms. the combination of your softness and the faint scent of vanilla clinging to your skin was almost enough to send him over the edge. he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his composure, but the air felt thick and suffocating, and he was perilously close to letting out a moan that would’ve humiliated him in front of the entire room.

“i promise i won’t be a burden,” you added, flashing him a dazzling smile that showcased your perfectly sized teeth. “i’ll do my part, i swear.”

he nodded mechanically, his brain too messed up with the feel of your body against his and the lingering image of your lips curling into that smile. “y-yeah…” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.

as you turned your attention back to the professor, jisung exhaled slowly, his pulse racing. his hands gripped his laptop so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he realized with growing dread that this partnership might actually kill him.

when class ended, you stayed behind, which was unusual since you were usually one of the first to dart out the door. as jisung zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, he noticed you looking at him expectantly. he panicked. did he have something of yours?

jisung glanced nervously at his belongings, double-checking as if your pencil or notebook might have somehow ended up with him. but you didn’t say anything. the silence stretched awkwardly until you finally stood up.

since the rows were so narrow, your movement brought you close… too close. jisung gulped as you stepped into his space, your perfume wrapping around him. he tightened his grip on his backpack straps.

“do you wanna start working on the project now? i have classes every day, and my evenings are pretty busy, so…” your voice trailed off meaningfully. jisung knew. oh, he knew. your evenings were reserved for livestreams. his evenings were also reserved for your livestreams. obviously, the project couldn’t cut into those sacred hours.

“uh, okay… do you wanna go to the library?” he managed, pushing his glasses up his nose. they kept sliding down because he had to crane his neck to look at you from this close distance.

“sure! next time, we can work at your dorm. i’d offer mine, but we have a strict no-boys policy in the apartment,” you said with a laugh, then added, “though my roommates break that rule all the time.”

“what about you?” the question tumbled out of jisung’s mouth before his brain could intercept it. his eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he asked that

but you didn’t seem fazed. instead, you grinned. “you know, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you teased, throwing in a wink that made his brain implode just a little.

as you spoke, jisung’s gaze flitted over you again—your mannerisms, your voice, that unmistakable charisma. the longer he looked, the more it hit him like a sledgehammer to the face. how had he not recognized you as collette sooner? sure, you wore a mask on the streams, and your hair was styled differently, but it was unmistakable now. you were her. and yet, standing here in front of him, you felt even more unattainable.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

at the library again, you couldn’t find a private room since you hadn’t booked ahead, so you settled for a secluded table tucked into the corner of the study area. it was jisung’s favorite spot on campus, not that he’d ever admit that to you. he didn’t want to look more like a loser than he already did.

you’d tied your hair up in a ponytail, and jisung wished you hadn’t. the simple change opened up your neck and collarbones, exposing more skin for his eyes to betray him over. he swore he could count the faint freckles scattered across your shoulders if he stared long enough. and, god, did he want to.

jisung sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to reset his brain. he needed to focus. if he was going to make it through this study session, he needed to stop thinking about your freckles or how your lip gloss shimmered every time your mouth moved.

focus, jisung. he started mentally listing the least sexy things he could think of: spongebob, frogs, khaki jeans, loud chewing. he even dredged up the memory of his fourth-grade math teacher, a grumpy woman he was convinced secretly hated him. it worked, until he realized you were talking to him, and he’d been staring straight past you like an idiot.

“sorry, what was that?” he blurted, blinking rapidly and focusing in on your glossy lips forming the last word of whatever you’d said.

you tilted your head slightly, your ponytail swaying with the movement. “i said, do you want to split up the research? or do you just want to work on the same section together?”

“uh…” jisung’s brain scrambled for footing, his face heating up again. “splitting it up is fine. yeah. let’s do that.”

you smiled at him, and he swore it felt like the library got ten degrees hotter. “great! i’ll take the first half, and you can take the second?”

“sure,” he mumbled, fumbling to pull out his laptop. as you turned back to your notes, jisung caught himself glancing at your neck and down to your cleavage again. frogs, he thought desperately. frogs. khaki jeans. loud chewing. but none of it helped.

he needed a cold shower. desperately. every time you leaned into him, jisung’s resolve cracked a little more. he was barely hanging on as it was, his left hand glued to his lap, pressing down in a feeble attempt to hide the semi he’d been sporting for the last twenty minutes.

“what do you think of this?” you asked, sliding your laptop toward him. your voice was sweet, your tone light and inviting, but jisung couldn’t focus on anything except how close you were.

“that’s good,” he mumbled quickly, trying to sound casual even though his throat felt like sandpaper.

“really?” you tilted your head, eyeing him skeptically. “you say that about everything i show you.”

“cause you’re really good at this,” he blurted out. he pressed harder on his lap, his fingers twitching in frustration.

you laughed softly, the sound making his heart stutter. then, to his horror, you gave him a slow once-over, your eyes narrowing slightly as you studied him. “you okay? you look tense.”

“yup, all good,” he said too quickly, his voice high-pitched. he glued his eyes to his laptop, pretending to focus on the passage in front of him, though the words blurred together into an unintelligible mess. please stop looking at me, he begged silently. please.

but instead, you cocked your head, resting your chin in your hand. “you know,” you began thoughtfully, “you sound like someone i know.”

jisung froze. fuck.

his mind went blank, panic flooding his system. his ears burned, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. did you figure it out? do you know?

“but it couldn’t possibly be,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you turned back to your notes. “you’re too different.”

he released a shaky breath, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst through his ribs. his lips pressed into a tight line as he risked a glance at you. so you did remember andy. jisung had assumed that with so many followers, even your most loyal supporter might fade into the background of your memory. but the private livestreams, the filthy words jisung had whispered that made you moan harder, all the praises and compliments he showered you with—it seemed those had stuck with you. because you remembered his voice.

“i’m gonna use the restroom really quick,” you said, standing up abruptly.

jisung’s eyes followed you as you walked away, the sway of your hips distracting him momentarily before reality snapped back into focus. as soon as you were out of sight, he groaned, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at his lap and the unmistakable tent that had formed there.

he needed to take care of this. now.

standing up, jisung winced at the sensitivity and began making his way toward the bathroom, his head down in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone. but just as he approached the hallway, he caught the sound of muffled voices. one of them raised, the other low and pleading. his steps faltered when he recognized your voice.

he crept closer and pressed himself against the wall, just barely peeking around the corner. there you were, gesturing wildly, your brows furrowed in anger as you stood toe-to-toe with someone jisung instantly recognized as sungchan, the captain of the basketball team.

“i told you to leave me alone,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “texting me from taro’s phone? really? now you’re dragging other people into this? why can’t you just understand that i want nothing to do with you anymore?”

“y/n, please,” sungchan said, his tone dripping with desperation. “i don’t know what else you want me to do. i’ve apologized a million times, and i’ve cut all communication with her. i haven’t seen her in months.”

he took a step closer, but you shoved him back by the chest.

“you should’ve done that before fucking her, don’t you think?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“hey, it didn’t mean a thing to me, you know that,” sungchan said, his voice softening as he reached for your hip and squeezed. “you’re the only one i want.”

your body stiffened at his touch, and you glared up at him. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he didn’t move, his grip firm.

jisung’s jaw clenched. his fists balled at his sides as his eye twitched. why the hell was this guy touching you when it was clear you didn’t want him to?

“c’mon, baby,” sungchan purred, leaning in dangerously close to your neck. “you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good.”

before jisung could stop himself, he was stepping out from behind the corner. he cleared his throat loudly. the sound startled no one, so he did it again, this time pairing it with a sharp, “hey.”

his voice came out deeper than he expected, reverberating in the narrow hallway.

sungchan’s head snapped up, pulling away from your neck as he turned to look at the interruption. your eyes widened when they landed on jisung, standing there taller than usual, his broad shoulders squared.

“just wanted to check if you were alright,” jisung said, his gaze fixed on you, his voice steady.

sungchan’s expression darkened as his grip on your hip tightened. “and who the hell are you?” he spat, his tone venomous.

jisung didn’t flinch at sungchan’s hostility. his dark eyes flickered to your hip, where sungchan’s hand still rested, and then back to sungchan’s face.

“her partner,” jisung said evenly, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle edge. technically, he wasn’t lying, you were his group partner. “and she doesn’t look too comfortable right now.”

you glanced at jisung, your lips parting in surprise. sungchan let out a dry laugh, his hand finally dropping from your hip as he turned to fully face jisung. he towered over most people, but jisung stood his ground, unbothered by the difference in height.

“you’re her partner?” sungchan sneered, looking jisung up and down with a smirk that screamed condescension. “you don’t seem like her type.”

jisung’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. he looked at you instead, his voice softening slightly. “you sure you’re okay?”

your lips pressed together as you nodded quickly, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “i’m fine, jisung. really.”

but sungchan wasn’t done. “jisung, huh?” he repeated, his smirk widening. “sounds familiar. oh, wait—” he tilted his head, mockingly stroking his chin. “aren’t you that quiet little nobody who’s always hiding in haechan’s shadow?”

jisung didn’t react to the insult, though his nails dug into his palms. “that’s me,” he said with a shrug, his voice still maddeningly steady. “and you’re the guy who can’t take a hint and harasses girls.”

sungchan’s smirk dropped instantly, his expression hardening. “what did you just say?”

“you heard me,” jisung replied, his voice low. he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his confidence only making sungchan’s irritation grow. “she asked you to leave her alone, didn’t she? or was that too complicated for you to understand?”

you blinked at jisung, momentarily stunned at his boldness. sungchan, on the other hand, took a step forward, his fists clenching.

“listen here, you little shi—”

“stop!” your voice cut through the tension. both jisung and sungchan turned to look at you. you stepped between them, your expression firm as you faced sungchan. “i meant what i said, sungchan. this is over. stop calling me, stop texting me, stop showing up where i am. just—stop. i don’t want to see you anymore.”

sungchan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as he stared at you. “fine,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else is gonna treat you like i did.”

jisung couldn’t hold back the quiet scoff that escaped him, and sungchan shot him a glare before storming off down the hallway.

as the echo of sungchan’s footsteps faded, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. you turned to jisung, your expression both grateful and embarrassed.

“thanks,” you said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “you didn’t have to do that.”

jisung shrugged, his face a little pink as he adjusted his glasses again. “it’s no big deal. i just… couldn’t stand there and do nothing.”

“still, i appreciate it. my knight in shining glasses” you gave him a small smile.

jisung’s ears burned at the nickname, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “ha, yeah.”

you laughed lightly “c’mon,” you said, gesturing toward the library’s main area. “let’s continue working”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you continued having sessions for the project after class, and slowly, jisung started coming out of his shell. he still mumbled and stuttered every now and then, especially when your attention lingered on him for too long, but he was starting to hold actual conversations now. and once he got going, it was hard to stop him. he’d gush about the most random things, like his favorite video game characters or how much he hated remakes of old horror movies. sometimes, he’d pull up conspiracy theory videos about aliens on his phone, his voice picking up speed as he rambled about the possibility of extraterrestrial life.

“i mean, think about it… how could we be the only ones in this massive universe? that’s just statistically improbable,” he’d say, adjusting his glasses as he leaned closer to show you grainy footage of a supposed UFO. you’d nod along, amused by his enthusiasm, even if half of it went over your head.

you also learned jisung had a thing for metal music. he shyly pulled out his phone one day to show you his collection of signed albums from bands you’d never even heard of. “this one’s from when they did a secret show in busan,” he explained, his fingers tracing the signatures like they were sacred artifacts. “and this? their first album. impossible to find in good condition.”

“wow, you’re really into this,” you said, smirking as you scrolled through the pictures. “so... are you in a band or something?”

he flushed immediately, shaking his head. “no, no! i’m not cool enough for that,” he muttered.

you couldn’t help but smile. “i think you’re cool,” you said simply, and his ears turned pink.

but jisung’s curiosity didn’t stop at music or aliens. he was fascinated by the simplest things. one time, you brought a new lip gloss to class—the kind that didn’t smudge or rub off no matter what. jisung had been so impressed that he begged you to show him how it worked.

“wait, so it stays on? like, even if you eat something? how?” he asked, eyes wide as you swiped some on the back of your hand.

“even if i kissed you right now it wouldn’t come off”

“oh… w-what’s in it? do you have the ingredients list?” he stuttered, his hand coming up to his face to hide the blush on his cheeks.

you laughed. “are you serious right now?”

“yes! this is pretty cool,” he said shyly. “i need to know.”

he was, all in all, a total nerd. but you found that endearing. you liked how he could get so passionate about the smallest details, even if he didn’t realize how cute he looked when he did it.

what you wanted to know most, though, was if he was really loaded. after all, someone had to be, to spend eighteen thousand dollars like that. one particular evening, while you were working on the project at a cafe, you decided to subtly bring it up.

“so... you said you tutor a lot of students, right?” you asked, stirring your iced coffee.

jisung nodded, flipping through his notes. “yeah. it’s decent money, especially before exams.”

“and you... do homework for them too?” you added, raising an eyebrow.

he hesitated, looking a little guilty. “only when they pay extra,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “but yeah. it’s not a big deal.”

“huh,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “you must be really good at it to make that much money.”

“i mean, i guess,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “but it’s not that much.”

“you sure about that?” you teased, giving him a knowing look. “because eighteen thousand isn’t exactly chump change.”

his head snapped up, and for a moment, he looked like a scared hamster. “w-what?” he stammered.

“nothing,” you said, smiling innocently.

he went back to his notes, but you didn’t miss the way his hand trembled slightly as he flipped the page. interesting.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the next time jisung almost had a heart attack because of you was after one particularly grueling day of tutoring half of sungchan’s frat. he’d spent hours going over equations with guys who clearly had no interest in learning and had been on edge the whole time, doing his best to avoid running into sungchan himself. all the bravery he’d mustered at the library had definitely worn off.

he finally made it back to his dorm, exhausted and ready to collapse, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, flipping through one of the XXX magazines sitting on his desk. his eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.

you noticed him and laughed at his expression. “one of your roommates let me in,” you said, your voice light and teasing. “i think his name’s jaemin?”

jisung blinked, his brain struggling to process. “uh… yeah, jaemin,” he managed to stammer.

“i came to see haechan, but he wasn’t in,” you explained, crossing your legs in a way jisung was so familiar with now. “so i thought i’d pay my new best friend a visit.”

his stomach did a full somersault as he realized you were talking about him. “oh… uhm, hi” he said weakly, scratching the back of his head as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

“hi,” you echoed with a grin, holding up the magazine. “some interesting reading material you’ve got here.”

“t-that’s not mine,” he blurted out, his face flushing red. “it’s haechan’s. i swear.”

you tilted your head, clearly unconvinced but too amused to care. “no need to be embarrassed,” you said casually, placing the magazine back on his desk. “you’re not the first boy in whose room i’ve found porn.”

jisung’s ears burned, and he had no idea how to respond to that. “right…” he muttered, shifting awkwardly.

“your room’s cleaner than i expected,” you added, glancing around.

“did you think i’d be messy?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“hmm, more like… sloppy,” you said, arching a brow in a way that could only be described as suggestive.

jisung swallowed hard, unsure if you were flirting or just messing with him. either way, his brain was short-circuiting. “oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he intended.

you laughed and leaned back on your hands, watching him with that same playful glint in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m just messing with you.”

he let out a small, nervous chuckle and stepped further into the room, trying to act like your presence wasn’t completely throwing him off. “so, uh… what brings you here?” he asked, carefully setting his backpack down.

“just bored,” you said with a shrug. “and since you’re my new best friend, i figured you’d entertain me.”

he blinked. “entertain?” shit, he almost got hard just hearing that.

“obviously,” you said, grinning. “you’re way more fun than haechan anyway.”

jisung doubted that, but he wasn’t about to argue. instead, he sat down at his desk, desperately trying to ignore how pretty you looked sitting on his bed.

“how about you show me how to play that game you talked about?” you asked, walking over to him and resting your arm on his gaming chair.

jisung blinked up at you, startled. “you wanna learn how to play League of Legends?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“sure. it sounded fun when you told me about it,” you said with a casual shrug.

“uhm, okay then,” jisung said, his voice a little higher than usual as he leaned to flip the power switch on his PC. then he paused, realizing he didn’t have an extra chair. “wait, let me go borrow haechan’s chair,” he said quickly, jogging out of the room.

when jisung returned, chair in hand, his steps faltered. you were leaning over his desk, your skirt riding up just enough to show him what color were your panties today. his first thought, entirely unhelpful, was how badly he wanted to bend you over that desk. his second thought, unfortunately delayed, was that you had turned on his monitor.

and on the screen, clear as day, was his account page.

“so, it was you,” you said, the tone of your voice laced with triumph.

jisung’s eyes widened, panic flaring to life. “what—what are you talking about?” he stammered, dropping the chair with a clatter.

“andyp4rk02,” you said, your voice lilting with satisfaction as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. “i felt it was you. but i’m glad to have a confirmation now.”

jisung froze, his breath catching in his throat as his brain scrambled for something to say. “i—uh—what—”

“you’re not even gonna try to deny it?” you teased, stepping closer to him, the corner of your mouth quirking up in a smirk. “honestly, i was starting to think i was crazy. but you just confirmed it.”

“i—it’s not—” jisung’s voice cracked as he tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

you tilted your head, watching him struggle with an almost predatory gleam in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m not mad,” you said, your tone softer now, though it didn’t erase the teasing edge. “in fact…” you took another step closer, your voice lowering slightly. “i’m intrigued.”

“huh?” jisung’s voice was barely above a whisper, his throat dry as he tried to process what you were saying.

“the one thing i’m most curious about,” you said, taking a step closer, your tone casual but your gaze sharp, “is how you… a freshman, who doesn’t seem to have a job besides tutoring, managed to splurge thousands of dollars on me?”

jisung swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “i just…” he mumbled, looking away, his ears burning as he avoided your piercing gaze.

“c’mon, don’t be shy.” you leaned in slightly, your smirk widening. “andy would’ve bent me over that desk over there and started spilling every single thing i asked for.”

jisung’s eyes snapped up to your face, wide with shock. how did you know exactly what had flashed through his mind mere seconds ago?

“s-sorry,” jisung stammered, looking like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “this is just… are you really not uncomfortable? with me, i mean?”

“why would i be?” you asked, tilting your head as though the question itself was ridiculous. “i’ve gotten to know you better now. i know you’re not a weirdo or anything.”

jisung blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky wasn’t blue. “but i—i mean, with everything i said to you before… all of that—”

“all of that was online,” you cut him off smoothly, your tone light. “and honestly? i think it’s kinda cute how much you adored me. well, adore me,” you corrected with a sly grin.

jisung’s jaw dropped slightly, his face somehow heating even more. “you… think it’s cute?”

“of course,” you said with a soft shrug, your tone so casual it was almost disarming. “you’ve been sweet this whole time, even when you were trying so hard to hide it. honestly, i’m flattered.”

your lips curled into a teasing smile as you leaned in just slightly. “but now, i want to know—” your voice dipped lower, warm and slow. your eyes locked with his, drawing him in without effort. “how did you manage it? the money, i mean.”

jisung swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggled to form a coherent response. “well… uhm…” he shifted nervously, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “i… saved up a lot of money since i was a kid,” he began, his voice quiet but steady as he forced himself to meet your gaze.

“i made a system,” he continued, his words gaining a bit more confidence as he explained. “i cashed a lot of favors, even in school. i’ve been doing other people’s homework since primary, practically. also…” he hesitated, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before darting back to you. “my dad… he started giving me an allowance every month when i was 14, and i never really used it for anything. so… i’ve just been saving. for a long time.”

you tilted your head slightly, clearly intrigued. “wow,” you murmured, crossing your arms in thought. the movement wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was—but it pushed your cleavage up just enough to make jisung’s brain stutter.

his eyes flickered down for half a second before he froze, his face turning crimson. his chest tightened, his breath shallow, because he was sure that if he so much as brushed against you right now, he’d moan like some desperate, pathetic fool.

“that’s… impressive,” you added, breaking the silence, though your tone had shifted, tinged with something almost playful. “you must’ve been really dedicated to saving all that up.” your words hung in the air, light and teasing, but your gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper.

“y-yeah,” jisung stammered, his hands fidgeting by his sides. “i guess i’ve just… always been good with managing money.”

“clearly,” you said with a grin. you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping just enough to send his heart into overdrive. “it’s kinda sexy, you know.”

jisung’s brain went blank, his entire body tensing as if he couldn’t process what he’d just heard. sexy? he repeated in his mind, struggling not to outwardly combust. his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out, and the only sound was the faint hum of his computer in the background.

“you okay?” you asked, your smile widening as you noticed his wide-eyed expression.

“y-yeah,” he managed to croak out, though his voice cracked slightly.

“relax, jisung,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. his breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but smile at how utterly helpless he looked under your gaze.

“i-i am,” he stammered, but the way he gripped the desk behind him for support said otherwise.

you laughed softly, tilting your head as your hand slid up his arm, fingers ghosting over his bicep before trailing down to rest lightly on his chest. “sure you are,” you murmured, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his ear. “you’ve been nervous since you entered the room.”

“i… i’m not nervous,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“oh, really?” you teased, letting your hand slip under the hem of his shirt. your fingertips grazed the warm skin of his stomach, and he jolted, sucking in a sharp breath. “but you’re trembling.”

“t-that’s not—” his words were cut off when your other hand came up to brush the hair out of his face, your touch gentle yet firm as you tilted his chin up to meet your eyes.

“you’re so cute,” you whispered, your thumb lightly grazing his jawline. his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly.

“you’ve been so sweet to me, sungie,” you continued, your voice dropping lower. “how could i not want to thank you?”

“t-thank me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth that he let out an involuntary whimper. “mhmm,” you hummed, your lips brushing against his skin as you moved to the other side, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline.

jisung’s breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your hand slid further up his shirt, your nails grazing lightly against his ribs. “is this okay?” you asked softly, your lips hovering near his ear.

“y-yeah,” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.

“good,” you murmured, pressing a kiss just below his ear, then another on the side of his neck. his hands gripped the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles were white, and he let out a shaky breath, his head tilting slightly to give you more access.

you smirked, trailing your lips back up to his cheek, stopping just short of his lips. “you’re so quiet now,” you teased, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his stomach. “no more stuttering?”

“i… i don’t…” jisung panted, his words trailing off as your lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.

“you don’t what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his dazed gaze. his eyes were half-lidded, his face flushed, and his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath.

before he could answer, the sharp buzz of your phone vibrating broke the moment. you blinked, startled, and jisung let out a shaky exhale, his head dropping back against the wall in relief… or frustration.

“hold that thought,” you said, your voice still low as you reached into your pocket. your fingers lingered on his stomach for a moment before you pulled away completely.

jisung watched in a daze as you checked your phone, your lips pressing together. “looks like i’ve got to go,” you said, slipping the device back into your pocket.

“w-what?” he stammered, his voice cracking again as he stared at you in disbelief. “y-you’re leaving?”

“for now,” you said with a wink, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “don’t miss me too much, okay?”

jisung could only nod dumbly, still leaning against the desk like his legs might give out at any moment.

“oh, and jisung?” you added, pausing at the door. he looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours. “you might want to take care of… that.” your gaze flicked downward for just a moment, and his face turned a brilliant shade of red as he scrambled to adjust his shirt.

you laughed, shooting him one last playful smile before disappearing out the door, leaving him flustered, breathless, and utterly unable to think about anything else but how good your lips felt on his skin.

that night, jisung lost count of how many times he jerked off. by the time he was done, he was so spent he didn’t even bother cleaning up properly. he passed out with a mess of cum smeared across his abdomen, his sheets damp and sticking to his skin.

the sound of retching woke him up.

he groaned, squinting as the sunlight poured directly onto his face. blinking sleepily, he turned his head to see haechan standing at the foot of his bed, his face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.

“look at the state of you…” haechan said, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “seriously, dude, your dick’s gonna disintegrate if you keep going like this.”

“get out,” jisung groaned, voice hoarse. he rolled over, pulling the blanket halfway over his head to shield himself from both the sunlight and his roommate’s judgment.

“i would, but i have a message from y/n,”

jisung sat up at the sound of your name. his heart pounding as if he’d been jolted with electricity.

“she said she can’t meet you at the library today…”

jisung froze, the sudden buzz of energy deflating into cold panic. “oh,” he said softly, his voice laced with disappointment.

his mind immediately began spiraling. were you avoiding him? now that you knew he was andy, did you think he was a creep? were you disgusted? did you regret what happened yesterday? every terrible scenario played in his head as he stared blankly ahead, anxiety tightening its grip on his chest.

before he could spiral further, haechan continued, dragging out his words for dramatic effect.

“…she said she wants to meet you somewhere else instead.”

jisung’s head snapped toward him. “what?”

“she said she sent you the address and tried calling, but your phone’s off.”

his eyes darted to the floor where his phone lay facedown. practically leaping out of bed, he stumbled over the blanket, barely managing to stay upright as he grabbed the phone and plugged it into the charger.

“relax, dude. she’s not breaking up with you,” haechan said with a smirk.

“shut up,” jisung muttered, his focus entirely on the phone as it turned back on. when the screen finally lit up, he saw your message waiting for him.

his thumb hovered over it before he opened it. the address you’d sent was for a studio about thirty minutes away from campus. jisung frowned, his mind racing again. why there? what kind of place was it? and more importantly, how was he supposed to get there?

he groaned, already planning how he could convince jeno to lend him his car for the evening. but before he could get too far into his thoughts, he noticed haechan still standing there, arms crossed and a suspicious look on his face.

“what?” jisung asked, narrowing his eyes.

“nothing,” haechan said, but the grin spreading across his face said otherwise. “have fun tonight.”

with a wink, haechan strolled out of the room, leaving jisung standing there, equal parts nervous and excited, as he tried to figure out just what you had planned.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

by the time jisung reached the address you sent, he was soaked through to the bone. his hair sticking to his forehead, dripping rainwater down his face, and his clothes clung to his skin, cold and uncomfortable. jeno had flat-out refused to lend him his car, so jisung had to take the bus. the bus stop was two blocks away, and by the time he’d sprinted there in the pouring rain, his sneakers squelched with every step.

he stood now, breathless and drenched, staring up at the old building in front of him. the windows were grimy, and the exterior had an eerie, almost abandoned feel to it. with a reluctant sigh, he pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the lobby. it was completely quiet. the reception desk was empty, and no one was in sight, so he made his way up the narrow staircase to the third floor.

when he reached the door, his heart was hammering. should he have texted to let you know he was here? was he being too forward? after a beat of hesitation, he knocked, his knuckles tapping softly against the wood.

the door swung open after his third knock.

there you were, looking impossibly beautiful. your pink flowy dress caught the light, the fabric swirling around your legs as you smiled up at him. he’d never seen you wear a dress like that before. your makeup was flawless, more than usual, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat.

"you’re really punctual," you said with a soft smile, stepping aside to let him in.

but jisung didn’t move at first. his eyes scanned the space around him as he took it all in.

“is this…” he breathed in disbelief.

“welcome to collette’s studio.” you patted him lightly on the back, gently pushing him further inside.

“i wanted you to see it,” you continued, walking ahead, your fingers brushing against the smooth white sheets of the bed that dominated the center of the room. you glanced back at him with an expectant look.

jisung felt like he’d been dropped into one of his wet dreams. "i’m…" his words faltered as his senses overloaded, trying to catch up with what was happening.

"in shock?" you giggled softly, the sound light and airy. "you’re the first person i bring here."

"really?" he asked, his backpack slipping off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a soft thud.

“you brought your notes?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

"yeah…" he stammered, feeling foolish now. "aren’t we gonna finish… the project?"

your gaze locked with his as you moved closer, your presence drawing him in. his eyes flicked nervously to the neon sign hanging on the wall.

"hm, we can… or we could do something more fun?" you suggested, your voice a soft temptation. you stepped closer, until there was barely any space between you two.

jisung tried to keep his composure, but his body betrayed him. every inch of him stiffened as you moved into his personal space.

"i have a proposal for you, sungie," you said, your voice lowering, honeyed and sweet. your hand found its way to the back of his neck, your fingers tracing the skin there lightly, coaxing a soft sigh from his lips.

"y-yeah?" he breathed out, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment at the sensation of your touch.

"would you like to guest on my channel?"

jisung’s eyes snapped open, disbelief painting his expression. “what?… y-you mean… do a livestream with you?”

he could barely comprehend what you were saying, his brain scrambling to process the words. "but you… you never do that… it’s always just collette."

you smiled softly, a glint of something mysterious dancing in your eyes. "you’re right, but for a while, i’ve been thinking of changing that. i just never found anyone i trusted enough for it."

jisung’s mind was racing. he couldn’t believe this was happening. you, asking him? how many times had he imagined being in this room, taking you in that very bed? but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he was frozen. what if he wasn’t enough? what if he couldn’t satisfy you like you wanted?

“it’s okay if you don’t want to… it was pretty sudden of me to ask this,” you said, sensing his hesitation. you slowly withdrew your hand from his neck, leaving him cold and wanting more.

jisung panicked. he didn’t want you to think he was rejecting you, but the fear of embarrassing himself in front of not only you but a whole audience gripped him tight. what if he couldn’t live up to your expectations?

but then again, the thought of you finding someone else to do this with made his stomach twist with anxiety. he couldn’t back down now.

with shaky hands, he finally nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "i’ll do it."

“really?” you asked, your voice tinged with genuine surprise. you hadn’t expected him to agree. jisung didn’t exactly strike you as the type to willingly step into the spotlight, let alone in this particular way. this had every potential to go sideways.

but there he was, standing in front of you, his expression a blend of nervousness and determination. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from bolting.

you extended your hand toward him, watching as his gaze flickered down to it. he hesitated, just for a moment, before his much larger hand engulfed yours. his touch was clammy, his grip tentative, but it was enough.

“have you done this before?” you asked, glancing back at him as you led him toward the bed.

he looked utterly petrified, like a deer caught in headlights, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “a livestream, you mean? uh… yeah, i’ve—uh—seen a few… i mean, no! not seen, done! wait, i mean—”

you chuckled softly, cutting off his flustered rambling. “no, silly. i meant… is this your first time having sex?”

your tone was so casual and devoid of any judgment that it caught him completely off guard. his entire face went up in flames. he nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a tight line.

your smile softened, and you stepped closer, placing your hands lightly on his chest. “then, we should practice before turning the camera on, don’t you think?”

he swallowed hard, his lips parting in a nervous attempt to respond, but no words came out. he simply nodded, his breaths shallow and uneven when you pushed him down onto the bed.

you reached for the straps of your dress and slid them off your shoulders, the fabric slipping down your body and pooling at your feet. jisung’s eyes went wide, his lips slightly parted as he stared at you. his gaze flickered nervously, starting at your feet and slowly working its way up, lingering on the delicate white lace of your underwear. he looked like he was on the verge of tearing up.

you moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. the sudden pressure made him suck in a sharp breath, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.

“tell me what you like,” you murmured, leaning in just enough for your lips to ghost over the shell of his ear.

“w-what do you mean?” his voice cracked, and he looked up at you with wide, panicked eyes. his hands were still frozen in place, unsure of what to do, so you gently took them and placed them on your waist.

“you can touch me,” you said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “when you watch my streams… what do you like?”

his whole body tensed, his fingers spreading hesitantly over your waist. he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to look away. “uhm… i-i don’t know… i… i pretty much like everything,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“do you like when i use the toys?” you asked, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

“y-yes,” he breathed, the word coming out shaky and unsteady.

“do you like it more when i lay down or when i sit?” you asked, trailing your hands under the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.

his breath hitched as you motioned for him to stand. he obeyed, his movements clumsy as he pulled off his shirt and hesitated with his pants. his hands trembled as he pushed them down, leaving him standing there in just his boxers, his face burning crimson.

“uhm” he started, his voice cracking. he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor before flicking back to you. “when you sit?”

the second the words left his mouth, you pushed him gently, and he stumbled back onto the bed with a gasp. the flush on his cheeks deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears, as he looked up at you with anticipation.

“good,” you murmured, your fingers trailing along his chest. “then let’s see if you like this more.”

the sight of you straddling his lap made jisung’s throat go dry, his mouth parting slightly as his breath quickened. was this really happening? was he actually about to lose his virginity with the girl he had spent countless nights fantasizing about? every inch of him buzzed with nervous energy, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might actually cry—happy tears, of course, but still tears.

before his mind could spiral further, he felt the soft press of your lips against his. the sensation was so unexpected and overwhelming that he whimpered without meaning to. the sound would’ve embarrassed him any other time, but he was too lost in the moment to care. his lips parted instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss.

your fingers threaded into his hair, massaging his scalp, and a low moan escaped him. the warmth of your touch was intoxicating, but then your hips shifted, brushing against the hardness in his boxers, and jisung gasped into your mouth.

“shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky as his hips jerked up in response, pressing himself against your core. the friction drew a needy, broken moan from you that he immediately wished he could record and replay for the rest of his life. his head fell back slightly, breaking the kiss.

“how does that feel?” you murmured, grinding your hips against him again. “hm?”

“g-good… so… go—” his words trailed off, his eyes snapping open as he caught you unclasping your bra. the sight of you now bare from the waist up making him forget how to breathe.

he’d seen you topless before on your livestreams, but this was something else entirely. now, you were right in front of him, real and tangible. your breasts were perfect, even better than his wildest dreams, and his hands twitched on your hips, desperate to touch but unsure if he even had the right to.

“go ahead,” you said softly, as if you’d read his mind.

jisung hesitated, the thought flashing through his mind: am i even worthy of this? but before doubt could take hold, you grabbed his hands, guiding them to your chest.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling as they cupped the warm, supple flesh. the softness beneath his palms made his head spin, and he instinctively squeezed, earning a quiet hum of approval from you. “so… perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, shyness seeping into his tone.

you smiled at him and leaned in closer, pushing your chest into his hands. his thumbs grazed over your nipples, and you bit your lip, the simple action making his heart feel like it might pound out of his chest.

“you’re doing so well, sungie,” you praised, your words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. he felt his confidence grow just a little, his hands becoming bolder as he continued to touch you, mesmerized by how soft and warm you were.

“c-can i…?” he trailed off, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

“go ahead,” you encouraged, and his mouth descended hesitantly, leaving a tentative kiss on the curve of your breast. the feeling was so new that he couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him.

jisung pressed his lips against your skin again, this time lingering a little longer. he felt the soft rise and fall of your chest beneath him, and it was mesmerizing. the warmth, the way you smelled faintly of vanilla, and the soft sighs you let out as he kissed along the curve of your breast—it was too much for him, and not enough all at once.

you tilted your head back slightly, giving him more room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kissed lower. his tongue darted out, shyly tracing your skin, and he heard you hum in approval. the sound sent a jolt straight through him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours, pressing against your core.

“that’s it, sungie,” you murmured, your voice like velvet, guiding him. “you can touch more if you want. i don’t bite”

the teasing lilt in your voice made his entire face flush, but it also spurred him on. he let one hand wander, sliding up your side hesitantly before it cupped your other breast. his touch was still timid, his thumb brushing over your nipple experimentally. when you gasped softly and your hips shifted against his, jisung nearly lost it.

“does that feel good?” he asked, his voice barely audible, shaky and full of nerves.

“mhmm,” you nodded, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “you’re doing so well.”

the praise made him braver, and he leaned back slightly to look at you. your hair was slightly mussed, your lips parted, and your eyes were hooded as you gazed down at him. you looked like a dream, like something he’d only ever dared to imagine in the privacy of his own room.

jisung’s breath came in shallow pants as he watched you. your skin was soft, and your scent filled his senses, making it impossible for him to think about anything else.

“take these off too,” you murmured, your fingers tugging lightly at the waistband of his boxers.

his entire face burned crimson as he nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric and began to slide them down. his heart was pounding so hard he thought it wasn’t normal, but the thought of stopping never even crossed his mind.

you leaned back just enough to give him room, watching as he pushed the boxers down his hips, his movements awkward and nervous. once he kicked them off completely, he sat there, completely bare before you, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he avoided your gaze.

“hey,” you said softly, reaching out to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you. “don’t be shy. you’re perfect, sungie.”

his eyes widened slightly at your words, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“you’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again. this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, and jisung melted into it, his hands finally moving to rest on your waist.

you shifted in his lap, pressing your core against him, and he gasped into your mouth, his hips jerking up instinctively.

“s-sorry,” he stammered, pulling back slightly, his face a deep shade of red.

“don’t apologize,” you said, brushing your fingers through his hair. “you’re doing so well.”

your praise made his chest swell, and he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies were pressed together.

“touch me more, sungie,” you encouraged, taking his hands and guiding them up your sides, over your ribs, until they were back on your chest.

his fingers trembled as they cupped you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples experimentally. when you let out a soft moan, his confidence grew, and he leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips trailing lower until they found the curve of your breast.

“just like that,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair again as he continued exploring your body.

your hands slid down his back, your nails grazing his skin lightly, and jisung shivered under your touch. his own hands started to roam more boldly, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and finally settling on your ass.

you shifted again, grinding down against him, and he let out a choked moan, his head falling against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck.

“i… i c-can’t help it,” he stuttered, his voice shaky. “you’re… you’re just…”

you smiled, pressing a finger to his lips to hush him. “it’s okay, sungie. just let me take care of you.”

he nodded, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continued to move against him. every touch, every kiss, every sound you made drove him closer to the edge, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.

you leaned back slightly, reaching between your bodies to tug your panties down, and jisung watched with wide eyes as you discarded them. he couldn’t believe this was happening, like any moment he might wake up in his bed, alone and frustrated.

“are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft as you looked at him.

“y-yeah,” he said quickly, nodding. i just can’t believe this is real, he wanted to say but he was scared he’d sound like a loser.

“wait a second,” you said, sliding off his lap, the sudden loss of your weight making jisung let out a soft, involuntary hiss.

his eyes darted down, and he realized—much to his horror—that his dick was now standing proudly at full attention, no longer constrained by his boxers. in his mind, it was almost mocking him, like it was giving him a thumbs-up for finally letting his hand rest after all those nights of longing for you. jisung felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him, and his first instinct was to grab a blanket or pillow to cover himself.

just as he was about to reach for one, his attention was drawn to you. you were bent over by your bedside drawer, rummaging through it with an air of purpose. then, you pulled something out, holding it up for him to see… a shiny silver wrapper.

a condom.

jisung felt like his heart stopped beating for a second as he stared at the little package in your hands. something about seeing it made everything feel impossibly, undeniably real.

“ultrathin… so you can feel everything,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as you turned back toward him.

goodness, she’s gonna kill me. jisung thought, swallowing hard as he swore his dick twitched at your words.

“you’re quite big, sungie…” you mused, crawling back onto the bed with a grace that made his breath hitch. you moved toward him slowly, your eyes dark with intent. the way you approached him reminded him of a lioness stalking her prey.

“let’s see if it fits,” you added, a playful smile on your lips as you straddled his thighs.

jisung was completely frozen, his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched you unwrapping the condom with practiced ease. your hands moved so skillfully, the shiny material glinting faintly in the light. then you paused, looking up at him with a question in your eyes.

“may i?” you asked softly, your voice almost sweet, though your expression held that same predatory confidence.

“y-yeah,” he stammered, the word barely audible as he nodded frantically. in his mind, he was screaming, please, yes, god, yes.

the corner of your mouth quirked up as you leaned forward. your fingers were gentle but firm as you grasped his dick, and jisung couldn’t stop the shuddering gasp that escaped his lips. you slid the condom over him with ease, the mix of precum and the lubricant on the condom making it glide smoothly down his shaft.

it fit perfectly.

“fits you like a glove,” you murmured, your tone teasing as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.

jisung didn’t know what to do. his hands twitched at his sides, his mouth slightly open as he tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.

then, without warning, you slid up his body, settling back onto his lap. the sudden pressure against his dick made him let out a low, shaky moan.

“ready?” you asked, your voice softer now, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned forward.

jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes meeting yours. “y-yeah,” he croaked, his voice cracking slightly.

you lifted yourself slightly, aligning him with your entrance. jisung was trembling under you, his hands gripping the sheets as if holding on for dear life.

"breathe, sungie," you whispered, stroking his chest gently. his wide, panicked eyes met yours, and you smiled softly to reassure him.

he nodded quickly, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. when he exhaled, you sank down just a little, the tip of him slipping inside. his whole body jerked in response, a desperate, broken moan escaping his lips.

“fuck…” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow. his grip on the sheets tightened, his knuckles turning white. the heat, the wetness, the feeling of you was unlike anything he’d ever imagined.

“good?” you asked, tilting your head as you hovered above him, testing his reaction.

“s-so good,” jisung gasped, his voice trembling. “so… tight… warm…”

you couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, but you didn’t tease him. instead, you lowered yourself further, slowly taking him inch by inch. jisung’s breathing grew heavier with every movement, his hips twitching upward involuntarily as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation.

"easy," you murmured, pressing a hand against his chest to still him. "let me take care of you."

jisung nodded dumbly, biting his lip as he tried to stay still. his eyes were fixed on you, watching every little movement you made in adoration.

when you finally took all of him, you let out a soft sigh of relief, adjusting to the stretch. jisung, on the other hand, looked like he was seconds away from imploding.

"you're... you're perfect," he blurted out, his voice breaking with emotion.

you laughed softly, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re pretty perfect yourself, sungie.”

you gave him a moment to catch his breath, your hands gently running up and down his sides to calm him. when you started to move, lifting yourself slowly and sinking back down, his head shot up from the pillow.

“oh my god—” jisung groaned, his hands flying to your hips instinctively. “oh my god, oh my god…”

his grip was unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to hold on tighter or let go. his hips bucked slightly beneath you, and you gasped at the unexpected movement.

"you're doing so well," you encouraged him, your voice breathy but soothing. you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth before nipping at his jaw.

jisung whimpered at the praise, his hands sliding up your sides as he tried to ground himself. his lips found yours again, and this time, he kissed you with a bit more confidence, his tongue shyly seeking yours.

you rolled your hips against him, drawing a strangled moan from deep in his chest. his reactions were so genuine, so raw. it made your heart race just as much as his.

“faster,” he whispered against your lips, surprising both you and himself. his cheeks flushed red immediately after the word left his mouth.

you smiled, pressing your forehead against his as you obliged, picking up the pace. his grip on your hips tightened as he tried to meet your movements, his breaths coming faster and more uneven.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” you asked softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face.

jisung nodded rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body tensed beneath you. “i—i can’t… i can’t hold it,” he stammered, his voice breaking with desperation.

“it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “let go for me, sungie.”

the permission was all he needed. with a choked cry, jisung’s hips jerked upward, and he came harder than he ever thought possible. his whole body trembled as he gripped you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

you held him through it, running your fingers through his hair and whispering soft words of encouragement. when his breathing finally started to slow, you leaned back slightly to look at him.

his face was flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyes glazed over as he tried to process what just happened.

“you okay?” you asked, stroking his cheek gently.

jisung blinked up at you, a dazed but blissful smile spreading across his face. “y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “that was… amazing.”

you laughed softly, leaning down to kiss him again. “you did so well, sungie.”

he blushed at the praise, his hands resting on your thighs as he tried to steady himself. “thank you,” he mumbled shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“don’t thank me yet,” you teased. “we’re just getting started.”

the next day...

“sungie,” you said, your voice soft and slightly breathless. you were sprawled out on your couch, your notes and research scattered across the coffee table, all but forgotten.

“last night’s livestream got the most views i’ve had in months,” you murmured, looking down at him. “they must like you.”

jisung looked up from between your legs, his glasses fogged and slightly crooked on his face. his lips were swollen and glistening with your arousal, his cheeks flushed a deep red.

“really?” he asked, only half-interested. but before you could respond, he dove back down, his eager mouth finding your folds once again.

a sharp gasp left your lips as his tongue traced over you. this was already the second time today he’d eaten you out, and he’d only gotten better since his first attempt this morning.

earlier, you’d guided him through it, patiently showing him what felt good, what didn’t, and how to read the reactions of your body.

jisung’s long tongue worked wonders, licking and teasing in ways that had you gripping the cushions for dear life. when he sucked gently on your clit and flicked his tongue over it in quick succession, your thighs quivered against his head. he took note of the way your hips bucked involuntarily, doubling down on the action and making you cry out.

“you’re such a quick learner,” you panted, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly to spur him on.

he hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. the sound was almost self-satisfied, as though he was proud of the way he had you unraveling beneath him.

the combination of his inexperience and raw enthusiasm was intoxicating. jisung wasn’t just doing this to please you. he genuinely wanted to understand every inch of you, to learn what made you tick and what brought you to the edge.

and he was succeeding.

your thighs clenched around his head, your body arching off the couch as he alternated between languid strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against your most sensitive spot. “s-sungie, oh my god,” you whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening.

he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his glasses messier than ever. “does that mean i’m doing good?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled, and for a second, his shy, eager-to-please demeanor broke through.

you let out a breathless laugh, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately. “you’re doing amazing, baby.”

his lips quirked into a bashful smile before he returned his attention to your core, determined to coax another round of trembling moans from your lips.

jisung park, you thought as you teetered on the edge of bliss, was quickly becoming an overachiever in the best way possible.

a/n: my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic! thank you for reading <3

[nightpoemz]

★☆*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･' ૮ .◜◡◝ა '･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆★

bsf!jisung when everyone thinks that you're dating

an: song inspo: cody jon - m2m (*´∀`)♪

masterlist

[nyizg]

🌒 ༊ * ·

texts with bsf!jisung (pt 2)

part 1

ー ★ it’s been so long since i’ve made these, motivation said goodbye for a few months.. but we’re so back now :D

[viasdreams]

｡𖦹°‧

you and jisung raising an alien baby !!

a/n: imagine this takes place before wish debuted! also the kanji that make up sakuya’s name can be read as “last night”

[strayingawayy]

bigger, warmer, yet still stupidly yours...

...the one where jisung's gotten wayyyy bigger, not that you're complaining, of course

{inspired by @hyunebunx wishing me goodnight and hoping i'd dream of jiji and his big arms...yeah...}

han jisung had always been the definition of warmth for you. his head tucked into your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as he hummed some made-up tune that would, inevitably, become their next big hit...it was warm, it was routine, it was home.

but lately, something was... different. the warmth had somehow increased. you had somehow shrunk in his arms. it was weird. suspicious, even.

so tonight, as jisung effortlessly scooped you up, spun you around twice, thrice, then frice (is that a word? you don't know. you're so in awe of your man) like you weighed nothing, and carried you toward the bed, you knew something was up.

your eyes narrowed. "okay. what is going on?"

jisung blinked at you, all innocent and cute. "uhh, bedtime? you know, when we sleep? and you steal all the blankies?"

but enough was enough. you would put your suspicions to rest today. without a word, you grabbed the hem of his hoodie and yanked it up.

"WHOA WHOA WHOA- BABY! CONTROL YOURSELF, MY LOVE-"

you let out a gasp, pointing dramatically at his now very defined torso and arms. "AHA! EUREKA!"

jisung, ever the confused quokka, tilted his head. "...huh? did i miss something? what's happening? am i being arrested? is it for being too cute? is it for being too in love with you? no wait i'm too young to go to horny jail, i haven't even-", his eyes widen at the last bit before you cut him off.

"THAT'S IT!" you poked at his bicep, watching it bounce back. "YOU'VE GOTTEN BIGGER! NO WONDER YOU’VE BEEN SO EXTRA WARM AND CUDDLY BEAR LATELY!"

jisung blinked down at himself, then back at you. "...oh. ohhhh. yeah, i have been working out a bit?", he says, almost asks, rubbing his nape.

"a bit?! jisung, you look like those ripped teddy bears for cookies you see on the 'net!"

he grinned, flexing dramatically. "do you like it? am i hot? do i look like a man who could lift a car? think marvel will hire me to remake that scene where captain america holds onto the helicopter?"

you rolled your eyes but still definitely felt your heart do a little flip. "you should have told me you were turning into an action figure."

he huffed, flopping onto you so you were squished under all his newfound muscle. "but i wanted to surprise youuuu," he whined, nuzzling into your shoulder, pressing kisses to it before moving to your cheeks. "also, i just wanted to be strong enough to carry you whenever i wanted. not like i couldn't before but gotta keep at it even when i'm sixty four eh?"

your heart burst into little fireworks.

"you absolute idiot," you giggled, running your fingers through his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "you were already strong enough for me, baby."

jisung made a happy little noise before effortlessly rolling over, pulling you on top of him like you were a feather.

"see? now i can do this all the time," he said smugly, holding you against his chest like a personal teddy bear.

you let out a laugh, pressing your forehead to his. "put me down, muscle man."

"no <3"

he plants one kiss on your forehead.

"please?"

"no <3"

another on your cheek.

"jisung-"

"no <3"

a final on your lips to shut you up for good.

and honestly? with his arms around you, warmth seeping into your skin, his giggles mixing with yours, yeah....you weren’t really complaining.

[skzr4cha]

sing to me about us [lmn, hjs].

usually, the next step in a relationship involves planning a marriage or raising a child. but in your case, well — it about the making of a song.

a minsung x reader fake texts au.

[haeivie]

THE DREAMIES ꔛ BUT THEY’RE YOUR EX’S BEST FRIEND

⟢　you’ve always seen the dreamies as your bf’s best friend. but now, but now that he’s your ex, everything feels different. you begin to see them in a way you never have before. ⟣

PAIRING ⦂ nct dream x fem!reader CONTENTS ⦂ slight swearing , punch in jaemin’s , ( i feel like these are bad i’m sorry ) WC ⦂ 1.5k

──── © HAEIVIE , 2025. /

mark ⦂ you were sitting on the curb outside of your favorite spot, lost in the ache of your breakup. the tears kept coming, and you barely noticed mark until he was kneeling in front of you. he didn’t ask what happened or push you to talk; he just looked at you with soft eyes, his presence comforting in its quietness. “it’s okay. you’re gonna be okay,” he whispered, his hand gently rubbing your back. you looked into his eyes, feeling something shift inside you. after that night, mark started showing up more. he’d text to check on you, take you out to distract you from the pain, and slowly, you began to spend more time together. each moment with him made your feelings grow, but then guilt followed. he was your ex’s best friend. you shouldn’t be feeling this way about him, yet every laugh you shared and every time his hand brushed against yours, you found yourself falling deeper. you tried to push it away, telling yourself it was just a phase, but mark had become more than just your ex’s best friend. he was becoming someone you couldn’t imagine your life without, and though it felt complicated, it still felt right. and you couldn’t deny that your heart was drawn to him.

“i know the circumstances are odd, but i’ve never wanted to be anywhere else than here with you. if you’re willing to take that chance, so am i.”

renjun ⦂ after the breakup, everything felt like it was falling apart. you expected the world to feel different, but it was the silence that hit the hardest. everyone else seemed to move on, but renjun stayed. he didn’t push you to talk or ask for anything in return; he just showed up when you needed him most. you didn’t realize how much you’d grown dependent on his quiet presence until one day, when you were sitting on the couch, lost in your own thoughts. he sat beside you without saying a word, letting the silence stretch between you two. the weight of everything felt heavy, but somehow, his company made it easier to bear. it wasn’t until you really looked at him that you started to see him differently. the way he always knew when you needed someone. the way he stayed, no matter how messy things got. for the first time, you realized how much he had always been there, silently supporting you without asking for anything in return.

“i’ve always been here. maybe now, you can see me, too.”

jeno ⦂ you never expected things to shift so suddenly. it was late one evening, and you found yourself alone with jeno, the two of you having spent hours talking and laughing. the conversation had long since moved from lighthearted to more intimate, and without realizing it, the space between you two had closed. the tension between you was thick, almost suffocating, but neither of you moved away. in a moment of pure instinct, jeno kissed you. it was unexpected, but it felt like everything fell into place. for the first time in ages, you weren’t thinking about your ex, about the mess of emotions that had come with the breakup. all you felt was his lips, his warmth, his breath. but then, just as quickly as it had started, he pulled back, his eyes wide with panic. “fuck, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have—” jeno stammered, his voice breaking in the heat of the moment. you could see the guilt clouding his expression, the uncertainty in his eyes. he was afraid, afraid that he had crossed a line. you could feel your heart race, the confusion and desire mixing in the air around you. “jeno, it’s okay…i want this.” you assured softly. because you knew, just as he did, that what had happened wasn’t just a mistake.

“i’ve always cared about you more than i’ve let on, and i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel it.”

haechan ⦂ your breakup left things messy between everyone, but with haechan, it was different. while the others sided with your ex, hoping to keep the peace, haechan chose you. it wasn’t even a question for him. he knew what was right, and even though it meant a fallout with his best friend, he didn’t hesitate. the first time he stood up to your ex, the tension in the room was suffocating. your ex had thrown harsh words your way, trying to pull everyone into his side of things, but haechan wasn’t having it. “fuck ‘em,” he muttered under his breath, not even sparing a glance toward your ex. “they’re not worth it. you deserve better than that.” you weren’t sure how to respond. how could you, when you had always seen haechan as just the funny, carefree friend? but now, seeing the seriousness in his eyes, everything felt different. the way he stood by you, how he protected you even when it meant hurting his own friendship, left you breathless.

“he doesn’t even realize what he just lost…”

jaemin ⦂ everyone knew jaemin as the playful, flirty one. the guy who always had a teasing comment ready. but after your breakup, he showed a different side of himself. when your ex started running his mouth, throwing blame and guilt your way, jaemin couldn’t stay silent. he was your ex’s best friend, but that didn’t matter to him in that moment. the night of, you were having a particularly heated confrontation. your ex stormed off, leaving you standing there with your emotions running wild. jaemin was there instantly pulling him back. you barely had time to process what was happening when he stepped forward and punched your ex square in the jaw. the room went quiet as your ex stumbled back, shocked, while jaemin stood there, fists clenched, not saying a thing. the anger in your ex’s eyes flared, but he didn’t move to retaliate. jaemin didn’t even look at him. instead, he turned back to you, his expression unreadable, but his stance was protective. you stared at him, your heart pounding. his actions weren’t ideal, but in that moment, you understood that jaemin only wanted to protect you, no matter the consequences. and even though he’d made a mistake, there was something comforting about knowing that he would always stand up for you, no matter what.

“i don’t care if it was the wrong move. he’s an ass… i’d do it again. for you.”

chenle ⦂ undoubtedly, the breakup left you drained and confused, but chenle was there in a way you didn’t expect. while everyone else chose to avoid the subject, he was the one who made sure you were okay, even when it felt like your world was crumbling. he started showing up at your place unannounced, bringing over random snacks and forcing you to watch cheesy movies just to get you to laugh. his humor was contagious, and little by little, you found yourself starting to enjoy life again, even if only for a few hours at a time. one night, after a long conversation that drifted from laughter to something deeper, the air between you two shifted. you found yourself sitting next to him on the couch, his pinky brushing against yours. it was innocent at first, but the moment lingered longer than usual. chenle’s eyes met yours, and there was something unspoken, but clear. before you could say anything, your ex called, but chenle didn’t hesitate. he picked up the phone, silencing it before it could ring again. “ignore him,” chenle muttered under his breath, looking at you with a smile that was equal parts comforting and daring. “you’re way better off without him.” you didn’t say anything. instead, you just leaned into him, the distance between you two finally fading.

“he doesn’t deserve you, but i do. and i’ll prove it to you, day after day.”

jisung ⦂ things were tense, especially when your ex was around. the last person you expected to be there for you was jisung, but somehow, he was the one who always showed up when you needed someone the most. he never forced anything, never asked you to explain yourself or to open up. he simply existed in your life. after running into your ex at a party, the tension was unbearable. your ex came at you with harsh words again, trying to blame you for everything that went wrong. you could feel the weight of his accusations on your shoulders, like they might crush you if you didn’t leave. but before you could turn away, jisung was there, standing between you and your ex. “you’re not doing this to her again,” jisung said quietly, his voice calm but firm, looking at your ex without backing down. “let it go.” your ex opened his mouth to argue, but jisung wasn’t having it. without saying another word, jisung simply turned to you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he gently touched your arm.

“all I care about is making sure you’re okay… no one else’s feelings matter.”

[ttjisung]

POISON p. jisung

idol!park jisung x fan!reader

in which you were convinced ndas were simply a made up concept for fangirls to get off to, that was until you you were asked to go backstage at jisung's request.

cw: mdni! smut, fem!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving), spit, p in v, protected sex :3, slight angst, jisung is down bad, overstimulation, everything is consented to!!! ^_^ i think that's all... for now. wc: (3.4k)

You were in a lucid dream. You were sure that was it – a very realistic dream in which the concert staff approached you with a request to wait until after the encore, and then follow them backstage.

Being honest, you weren’t even aware that NDA’s truly existed, labeling them as a made-up fangirl fantasy; yet here you were, in your light green and quite revealing outfit, waiting for further instruction from the two security guards that found you when you took a small bathroom break between the group’s wardrobe changes. 

Had it not been for the way your hands slightly trembled, you might’ve been able to appear confident. You wanted to look brave, because a small part of your brain told you that if you showed any anxiety, you’d be denied. The thought faded as your heartbeat quickened, recognizing Poison playing in the background. Strangely enough, NCT Dream decided to end their concert with that song, although they had already performed it once before already. Any other time, you’d be grateful considering Poison was your favorite, yet observing the members dance sensually in the black and red outfits only worsened your state, as the reality kicked in that one of them requested for you to join them backstage to do only God knows what. 

Several questions ran through your mind, the main one being who? Who of the seven had spotted you jumping along in your floor seat and decided they wanted to see you after they finished up. Truthfully – and maybe embarrassingly – you wouldn’t mind any of them. Had it been any other band, you’re sure you would’ve only desired your favorite member, yet that was what made Dream so unique: all of them were perfect. That being said, your mind immediately jumped to members like Jaemin and Haechan, who were known for being flirts. It would only make sense that the more extroverted ones would be the type to do such a thing. 

Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized the concert had ended until the venue’s lights turned on and the loud buzz of the fans slowly faded out. You flinched as someone tapped your shoulder, looking around and coming face to face with one of the security guards you had met earlier, who nodded his head in the direction of the stage. “They’re back there. Let’s go.” Although your eyes were wide with shock and your skin had goosebumps, you simply followed closely behind. It wasn’t until you were led to a changing room door that the reality kicked in – you were about to meet one of your idols, and by the sound of the guards’ words, meeting wouldn’t be all you’d be doing. 

“Alright, I’ll leave now. Just knock when you’re ready, he’s already in there.” Your curiosity mixed with your anxiety at the mention of a certain ‘him’, and once the guard was gone and your nerves calmed down, you lifted your hand to knock. 

Not even three seconds later, the door opened, revealing the member who you had never expected. “Um… Hi… Come on in.” Jisung’s voice stumbled, awkwardly stepping aside to make space for you. This was weird – he truly never even crossed your mind. It’s not like you thought any of the members were innocent, they were all attractive, famous grown men. You weren’t delusional enough to believe they were inexperienced, but for some reason this seemed completely out of character for the tall male who nervously observed you as you stepped inside the room. 

“I’m not sure if they told you why I asked for you.” You shook your head, too dazed by the shock of meeting one of your favorite celebrities, alongside the reveal that Park Jisung of all people was sending NDAs to lucky fans – the realization that you were one of said fans hadn’t even kicked in yet. 

“I-I assume it’s because of… you know.” Hearing your voice grounded Jisung, who was relieved that you were nervous as well, and it wasn’t just him. Although not public knowledge, his fellow members were notorious for sleeping with fans, making him the only one who hadn’t yet. He didn’t think it was his style, too awkward to bravely invite someone like that, yet his mind changed when he saw you. 

You looked so pretty, singing along to his parts, dancing like no one else was there but you and him. You were alone, not accompanied by any friend or relative, making it even easier to avoid suspicion when the guards would approach you. There were doubts in his mind up until mid-concert, yet they faded quickly when he saw you recording him and him only during the first performance of Poison. That had to mean something, right? Surely you wouldn’t mind meeting him after, if you were so focused on him during one of the most inappropriate songs on the setlist. 

Jisung snapped out of it as you shifted tensely, looking away from him with a red face as you waited for him to answer. He found it endearing – you were so shy, even shier than him. He was glad, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of you had you been bold and initiated contact immediately. 

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want- I just… You’re really, ummm…” He cursed himself mentally for stumbling, shaking his head and breathing heavily before looking you straight in your eyes with a renowned confidence. If you weren’t, then he’d have to take control of the situation. Picking himself back up, he took a step closer to you, “You’re so pretty, and I couldn’t let you leave.”

You were shocked to hear his change of tone, looking up at him as you processed the words he let out. He thought you were pretty. Your manual breathing now matched the slight tremble of your hands, and you still felt like you were dreaming. Naturally, him inviting you back here was more than enough of an implication to his attraction, yet to hear it up front and coming out of Jisung’s mouth felt different – it felt good. 

“Thank you… I’m a really big fan.” Jisung smiled at your words; obviously you were or you wouldn’t be here, but he chose not to tease you, just nodding and looking at your eyes. “What’s your name?” “It’s Y/n.” He hummed in acknowledgement, moving slightly closer once more, furthering the height difference between you two as he looked down at you in admiration.

You’re not sure if you missed when he was being shy or not. On one hand, he probably wouldn’t make many moves if he stayed reserved, yet with his new self-assured act, you felt immensely overwhelmed by every action of his. 

It wasn’t until Jisung’s hand lightly grazed against yours that you let out a small gasp, shocked by the physical contact, his skin on yours making it all too real. “I…” His words stumbled like before, yet he shook his head, regathering his thoughts and restating what he had said before. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to do anything– I like meeting fans regardless… But I really want you.” The whispered confession at the end that slipped from his mouth was enough motivation for you to finally make your first move, shocking both him and yourself as you moved closer, leaning in and placing your lips on his. 

Not leaving any time for doubt or hesitance, Jisung quickly reciprocated, placing a large hand of his on the back of your neck to push you even closer if possible. The kiss grew heavy as his other hand slipped behind your back and slightly up your mesh shirt, holding your bare waist. If there was a word to describe the scene, it’d be desperate, as his breathing became winded.

You moved your arms that laid limp on your side awkwardly to rest on his shoulders. One of your hands threaded through his hair, pulling it experimentally, and the light groan he let out at the feeling had your arousal growing, encouraging you to pull harder. The kiss became sloppy as he moved his tongue against yours, a small mix of spit falling down your lower lip, towards your chin. 

You pulled away first to catch your breath, yet Jisung chased after you, not wanting to stop. Choosing not to land his lips on yours this time, he opened his mouth, tongue coming out to lick the saliva from your face instead. The gasp that came out of you was interrupted as he moved North, once again engulfing your lips with his. The arm that was placed behind you gripped your waist, moving you alongside him as he moved both your bodies closer to a stray couch that laid in a corner of the small room. 

Jisung pulled his arms away from you for a second, sitting down first before pulling you on top of him. The new position had a heat pooling inside of you as you felt how hard he was, only growing harder as he shifted you so you’d be directly on top of his clothed dick. 

His knuckles were a harsh red color, raw from the strength he placed on your hips once he held you again. This time, instead of simply laying there, he put his hands to use, moving you against him. The friction made both of you release a soft moan, the sounds increasing from you as Jisung grew eager once more, this time leaning into your neck and sucking harshly. 

Out of instinct, your hands moved towards his hair, once again pulling it. Jisung faltered, letting out a sound that vibrated against your neck. His hands stilled for a second before continuing his actions. “Need you so bad, baby. ‘Been looking at you since the show started.” His desperate words clung to your mind, rambling as he grinded you against him, one particular tug against his covered erection causing you to shut your eyes closed in pleasure and anticipation. 

He felt and looked big, the fact that his dick was contained meaning it could only get bigger. Matching his desire, the image of it made you restless, needing to feel it in you. Your whines shifted slightly, sounding more needy, and Jisung took it upon himself to lift you off of him. He held your body with ease before placing you on the couch next to him. 

He was standing in front of your sitting figure now, appearing taller than ever, and the image slightly intimidated you, yet excited you as you saw him take his jacket off, throwing it on the floor. Your green skirt was next, tossed somewhere irrelevant as he kneeled in front of you, each hand on one of your thighs. He looked up at your face, admiring how pretty you looked – lips swollen, your hair a bit messy, and your cheeks flushed red. Returning his attention to your thighs, he looked back down, spreading them and moving closer. 

Jisung’s face matched your red one as he breathed over your clothed core, feeling as though he was in heaven. Feeling restless with desire, he finally moved his mouth over your panties. It was sloppier than the kiss, the arousal that soaked through the fabric meeting his spit, surely leaving a wet spot. Although his actions were eager, they were calculated, soon enough having you whimper as he attached himself to your clothed clit, moving his hands softly up and down your inner thighs – a contrast to his hips that were harshly bucking against the bottom of the couch, desperate for release. You tasted so good, the thought of how you’d taste with no barrier overwhelming Jisung’s mind until he finally pulled your panties down, being met with the view of your pussy. 

Almost in awe, he leaned in until both his nose and mouth were against you. The feeling of his direct touch caused you to move, instinctively shifting away from him, yet you weren’t able to get far before Jisung’s grip on your thighs grew, pulling you even closer back into him than you were originally. 

He was right – you did taste better. Feeling you twitch in his hold encouraged him, and he dove in, finding your clit almost immediately once again. One of his hands let go, yet moved back to hold you as you tried to wriggle away, overwhelmed with the pleasure. 

Jisung looked up at you, staring with an anguished expression until you maintained his eye contact. “Please… Don’t move, please.” You honestly weren’t trying to, you just weren’t used to the attention you were receiving; nonetheless, you nodded. Taking that as a signal to continue, he moved his head down, grazing his tongue against your folds as he attempted to move his hand away again, this time met with your compliance. 

The stray hand moved towards your core, using two of his long fingers to spread you open, gaining more access before moving against your hole. The wince that you released didn’t go unheard by Jisung, as he put more pressure on your clit to distract you from the slightly painful stretch of one of his fingers moving inside you, reaching knuckle-deep as he began to thrust in and out.

Blinded by all of the stimulation, you didn’t notice him adding a second finger until he began to stretch you out even further, mirroring a scissoring-motion. Jisung felt like he could cum simply from the feeling of your walls clenching around him. 

The feeling was overwhelming, and you could tell you were close. “W-Wait… Jisung… I’m gonna…” Your words were ragged, slightly panicked as you tried to move away once more. He moved his arm from your thigh to your stomach, pressing you down into the couch as he continued. “Ji… I’m gonna-” “It’s okay, baby. You can give me more than one, right?” His words sparked something in you, and before you knew it, you released. He kept thrusting his fingers inside of you, helping you ride out your high before you finally came down. Your breathing was uneven, and you looked at him through half-lidded eyes, basking in the feeling until he interrupted, standing up and taking his shirt off. His pants were unbuckled, pushed off of his legs with haste as he moved to hold you again.

Apparently self-conscious about the fact that you had come and Jisung hadn’t, you looked at his discarded pants before speaking up. “I can do the same… If you want.” He quickly shook his head, placing you on his lap again. “I just want to feel you, please.” You nodded, moving your hand down towards the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head – the tank top you had worn instead of a bra getting stuck with the mesh fabric and coming off as well. 

A whimper escaped Jisung as you revealed yourself to him, your tits right in front of his face, so full and inviting once you straddled him again. Not even bothering to hesitate, he quickly attached his mouth to your nipple, both hands stroking your lower back in soothing movements. You were growing needier and needier as he continued, desperately needing to feel him. You bucked against him, and his mouth released you to let out a whimper at the sensation. 

One hand let go of your back, pulling off his boxers until he was finally bare against you. You could feel him against your stomach, standing tall. A part of you was too nervous to look down and perceive it, yet the other, stronger part took over. His dick was prettier than any other you had seen, the tip slightly red from the blood rushing. 

The hand that remained on your back squeezed you in place as Jisung leaned over to grab a stray condom, probably one that fell out of the pocket of his pants. He moved the package up to your mouth, eyes intently looking at your lips, and you took the signal to bite the plastic, ripping it open for him. His fingers lingered on your lips for a bit, dazed and turned on by the sight, yet he quickly snapped out of it, moving the condom down and rolling it on himself. 

Once his hand became free of the rubber, Jisung’s arms lifted you up until you were hovering on top of him. Although you were on top, he felt a need to be in control, so he took it upon himself to move you, sinking you onto his dick which pulsed inside of you. The stretch was too much, and your mouth opened as a choked gasp came out, feeling every vein that ran up his shaft. You fell forward onto him, face landing on the crevice of his neck. It was clear you were a bit unprepared, shaking at the feeling of him, and Jisung grew concerned. He didn’t want this to end already, so he racked through his brain for another solution before finding one. “Go ahead, baby. Bite me.” One of his arms moved up to wrap around your neck like he did earlier, pushing you even further into his. 

You were scared you’d hurt him, clearly showing your hesitance, yet he continued to push you into him, so you caved. Your teeth grazed his neck until you were fully biting into him. Expecting Jisung to groan in pain or move away, you were shocked to hear the unholy moan that came from his mouth. He thrusted up into you unconsciously, unable to hold himself back any longer as you clenched around him, biting down on his neck harder every time his dick hit deeper. Reluctantly, you moved your mouth away from his neck, now blinded by the shifting pleasure as your stomach flipped. Both your moans echoed through the room as he bounced you on top of him.

His hand moved down from your neck to your clit, rolling circles to push you further over – succeeding as you came for the second time, collapsing onto him. Your head fell on his chest, and he held you there gently as he continued chasing his high, cumming with one last dragged out whine. 

You’re not sure if it was post-nut clarity, but after a minute of catching both of your breaths while he cradled your body you began to overthink. Jisung was a celebrity – no matter how good the sex might’ve been (and by the looks of him, it was good) he was on tour, leaving your city the day after.

Shaking your head, you ignored all the thoughts running through your head, choosing to enjoy the little time you had left with him instead of worrying. After another minute of weirdly romantic ‘cuddling’, Jisung lifted you up, placing you on the couch. He left for a bit, returning semi-clothed with a shirt of his in his hand. You recognized it as the shirt he was wearing at the encore when they said their goodbyes to the crowd. His other hand held a towel which he used to clean you up, movements exceptionally soft as you winced when he dipped the cloth lower. Once he finished, Jisung put the shirt on you. It was baggy, covering you until mid thigh.

“That was… It was really nice.” His timid voice came back as he stared at you, sitting on the floor next to the couch. You nodded, sitting up on the couch and facing him as well. “I’m sorry I can’t walk you out. The guards said I’m not allowed, but you can borrow my jacket if it’s cold.” 

You fought the disappointment rattling in your head as you nodded again, taking it from him as well as your own bundled up clothes, and thanking him. Your skirt was quickly slipped on, the protective shorts that came attached hopefully being enough to cover you. Jisung led you to the door, walking with you until you reached the exit of the building. He looked sad, and somehow the expression calmed you down – it wasn’t just you who appeared upset with the anti-climatic situation.

He waved goodbye, and you waved back quickly before stepping out. He was right, it was cold so you slipped his jacket on, fitting you big as well. It wasn’t until you walked towards your car in the venue’s parking lot that you realized an article of yours was missing - your panties to be specific. You scoffed, imagining Jisung sneaking them away before giving his clothes to you. 

Once you got home, you warmed up quickly with your AC, deciding to take his jacket off. As you shook the fabric off, a small note fell out of the pocket, and you swore once again that you were in a dream as you read the words written on it.

‘I think I’m going to miss you so here’s my number. Please message me when you see this. - Ji.'

a/n: i'm seeing jisung live again at smtown soon so my brain is running... thinking thoughts... he was so fine irl i can't wait to see my man again i'm going to run on stage and you will NOT be able to drag me off of him. anyway here are some of the thoughts i'm thinking ^_^ i hope you guys like

[arislary]

Foggier - Han Jisung x f!reader

Synopsis: Aftermath of putting your panties inside of Jisung's pocket.

Pairing: nerd!Han Jisung x f!reader

Genre: MDNI 18+, smut

Warnings: unprotected sex (I write this waaaaaayyyyy too much, I can't help it!), creampie, spit kink, breeding kink, (used) panty kink, riding, oral (m & f receiving), nipple kink, glasses kink, they're perverts for each what can I say, I may be forgetting some idk

WC: <3.5K

A/N: Truly, I am so sorry 😭 this took way too long, I have nothing to say for myself tbh... BUT I did get a new job and it's consumed like my entire life, so please cut me some slack. I've had so much of this written and I just knew I was doing a disservice of not posting it. Part of me is iffy, but the other part just loves Jisung too much to care. I hope you enjoy nerd!Jisung as much as I do! VERY UNEDITED

Taglist: @inlovewithstraykids @nickgurl4life @darkwitchoferie @pochacco-baby @miyaluvvsyou @gnabsrihc @delicatetacozonkpony-blog @lattyjiji @supersonika143

Masterlist | Foggy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisung felt his anxiety rise as he waited for your response, his hand like iron in his jean pocket still. He had finished his classes for the day and returned to his apartment, seeking for a semblance of peace, but found none with the underwear currently burning a hole in his pants. He scrubbed a hand over his face, disbelief and shock still brewing inside of him, but the overwhelming desire topped everything. He had never been so hard before, the boldness of your act, the look in your eyes, the promise on your lips. 

Fuck me. 

Jisung pulled the underwear from his pocket, having settled down on his couch. He felt the heat on his face as he brought the pair closer to his nose, digging his face into the material. He groaned unabashedly, free hand palming the tent in his jeans. The deep breaths of your faint smell did little to ease the tightness in his jeans and his fingers reached to unbutton his jeans, pushing them down his hips. 

The moan that fell from his lips at his touch through his boxer, mouth falling open to suck in your underwear. Tongue laving, teeth almost gnawing at the fabric for more of your taste. He licked at his hand, his fist creeping under his boxers, circling his hard dick and began to stroke himself at a rapid pace. He pushed his boxers down to his jeans, gasping at the sight of his length crying for a release, tip leaking with pre-cum. 

“Oh, fuck, ______,” words muffled through your underwear as he flicked his wrist, squeezing around the base. He moved the hand clutching your underwear down, securing it around, continuing to jerk his hand up and down, the added texture slipping around his slicked dick had him yearning for the feel to be inside you. Jisung could only imagine the idea of filling your tight hole over and over until it was dripping from your shared cum. 

The thought of your sweet pussy full of his seed had Jisung reeling his head back, eyes falling shut, the edge just in sight-

And his phone is ringing.

Huh? 

Jisung jolted forward, hand stilling over his aching dick and glancing to his side to see his phone lighting up with your contact. 

You were calling him?!

“Shit!” Jisung scrambled, hand lifting the phone to his ear, but immediately dropping it with how much his hand was shaking. His dick throbbed painfully and he groan unabashedly as his hand tightened around himself unconsciously from his scrambling. He jerked forward, grabbing the phone that now lay on the floor, pressing it to his face as he rushed out a greeting.

“H-hey.” 

Jisung winced, hoping he appeared nonchalant. There was silence on the other end and Jisung pulled it away to check you were still there. 

“_________?”

“Jisung.”

He gulped at your tone, the deep, velvety voice leaving him to jerk his hand, his dick crying even more at his name falling from your lips, your underwear completely drenched. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Just uh-“ Jisung glanced at the hand still wrapped around his length and gave it a slow stroke, biting his lip at the pressure building. “H-hanging out?”

“Hmm? Wanna know what I’m doing?” He could hear the shuffle of you moving around and the faint sound of something squelching. 

“W-what’re you doing?”

“Myself to the thought of you,” your voice breathy and the squelching sound becoming more prominent. “I can’t stop thinking of you, Ji,” you release a slight whine, Jisung tightening his fist further, biting his lips to suppress the violent moan. What did he do to deserve this? To deserve you?

“Fuck.”

“Jisung.. are you touching yourself right now?”

He let out another whimper, his hand involuntarily moving faster at your raspy voice, the need inside of him overpowering his senses. 

“Shit, I- ‘m sorry, I kept thinking of you a- and I- eungnh,” Jisung’s length was that of a fountain, the onslaught of visions of you invaded every crevice of his mind; his brain conjuring your velvety, tight walls squeezing around him, gushing with your essence. 

A high pitched moans sound through the speaker of his phone and Jisung is left fucking up into his hand, his hips sloppily making even more of a mess around his hand and your panties. “Please, I need to- I gotta-“

“Cum for me, Jisung,” the purr of your voice drew a wrecked moan from his lips, The spurts of cum explode around his fist, painting your thong a beautiful shade. His dick continues to leak, his lips falling open to release a stream of praise and thanks, his babbling being soothed by your voice. “Oh you did so well, I wish I saw you.”

Jisung pouted at nothing in particular, his hand clenching around the device. “You didn’t text me back.”

“I’m calling you now.. did I hurt your feelings making you wait, baby?” Jisung whimpered, his hips humping up into your thong, still wrapped around his half-hard member. 

“I thought you wanted me-“

“Oh, fuck I do, I’m sorry, Sungie, can I make it up to you for waiting?” 

“How?”

“Come over, I shared my location.” 

The blur of buttoning his pants, member still wet with cum, stuffing your panties in his pocket once again, to pulling up the directions to your townhome, and thank fuckyou were only 10 minutes away, all left Jisung’s head spinning. He found himself sitting in the driver seat of his car, parked outside your place, chest heaving and unbelieving this to be real. 

Was he really about to fuck the woman of his dreams?

Just imagining the things he could do to you, the things you could do to him. Jisung was ready to the throw his door open when a knock sounded at his window. He let out a shriek only to find you standing there wrapped in a robe and sandals. You had a small scowl on your face, your arms wrapped tightly around your waist. 

Jisung quickly moved to step out, locking the door as you opened your mouth to scold him. 

“You made me come get you, I’m freezing,” your lips jutted out the tiniest bit and the sight of you so open with him had him hardening completely. Not being able to stop himself longer, Jisung reached out to grab your waist, yanking you closer to him, his glasses slipping down his nose from the movement. 

Your lips pursed, as if you were holding back a smile, eyes gleaming up at him. This had to be the most animated he had ever seen from you and he wanted more, craved to keep this going. You rested your hands on his arms, squeezing the black fabric around the muscle he would hide under his sweaters. He felt an unfamiliar sense of possession, the idea of you and him gripping at his heart. 

“W-we’re together now,” the both of you pause, surprise evident at his boldness. You raise an eyebrow at him, Jisung’s cheeks painted red from the words that slipped out before he could stop them. The hands on your waist, shook and tightened their grasp to steady him. “Right?”

You don’t give him a response, you’re eyes holding a mischievous glint to them. Jisung can feel the insecurity in him rise, but is distracted by you pulling his arm, leading him towards the entrance of your front door. You had slipped your slides off, leaning against the wood trim. The emotions bubbled up inside of him, the fear of rejection overpowering him. His shoes now off, Jisung stands to his full height, hands fidgeting at his side. He moves his hand up to push his glasses back up his nose, but your fingers appear in his vision, middle finger pushing up the lens for him. 

You invade his space, the smell of you, the sight of you is consuming him. How could he just have you once? He wanted you forever it felt like, whatever this was. He shouldn’t have come, what was he thinking. But you had looked at him like that, fuck you gave him your underwear. The attack felt like it could happen any second, but suddenly hands press against his chest, rubbing the expanse of his chest and soothing him. His gaze flitted down to where you were pressed up on him, eyes watching your hands touch him. 

“I don’t just give my panties away, Jisung,” you run your eyes up to meet his, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down. “I also don’t just call someone as I masturbate to the thought of them.”

Jisung blushes bright red, feeling the heat in his ears, head dipping forward. Your fingers play with the hair at his neck, goosebumps raising all over his body at your touch. He shuffles closer to you, hands moving to your waist and lower back, pulling you even closer. He almost moaned as you grazed the tent still crying for you. 

One of your hands fisted his sweater and began to pull him further into your space. The scent of passionfruit and another tropical fruit he couldn’t place yet, but matched you perfectly. There was a soft humming of music playing in the background, and it was like you hated the idea of overhead lighting, as Jisung ran his eyes over every surface and area available to him, the space was lit by an array of warm lights, some neon, fairy lights, and candles. 

Jisung let you lead him towards your couch, pushing him until he sat. He could feel the sweat under his collar, the excitement he was feeling, the desire, the yearning, he was desperate. He reached towards you, pulling the knot of your traps closer until you were between his legs. His hands moved the skin of your legs exposed by the robe, his fingers gliding towards the back of your knees, pulling you to sit in his lap. 

The sound that fell from his lips as you settled on his lap was obscene. His hands moved with inexperience, desperate to squeeze and feel the fullness of you. Your thighs plush and soft to the touch as he squeezed every inch of skin he could find. It felt as though his mind was full of just you. You. You. 

Jisung moved quickly, grabbing the back of your neck and meeting your lips with a force that had you both clinking your teeth, mouths opening to welcome the other in his hurry. You let out a gasp as Jisung pressed forward, his hands moving your hips over his, grinding you down on his clothed dick that had been hard for almost the entire day. Your hands moved down his arms, squeezing at his biceps, nails digging in and he prayed they’d leave marks on him. 

You leaned back, lips moving to cheek, his jaw, up to his ear. 

“Did you bring them?” 

Jisung shivered at your whisper and nodded his head slowly, the blush returning to his cheeks. It was as if your thong had become a heavy weight suddenly, your fingers inching towards his pockets to feel for them. He covered your hand to stop your movement, the fear of you seeing what he had done to them becoming too much.

“I-“

“Let me see,” your fingers had wiggled their way into his pants and he stiffened once he knew you made contact with them. You maintained eye contact with him as you slowly pulled the soiled garments from his pocket. He watched as your eyes dropped down, widening at the sight and the most beautiful blush appearing on your normally more neutral face. You brought a hand to your lips, mouth dropping from surprise and something more, a glint in your eyes that Jisung couldn’t quite place, but drew a whine from him. 

“I can explain-“ he cut himself off when you purposefully rolled your hips against the tent of his pants, another moan passing through his lips at the pleasure and heat inside of him. He returned his hands to your thighs, fingers slipping under the fabric of your robe, pinching softly at the insides of your thighs. 

“Jisung, I-“ you stopped, Jisung’s eyes immediately searching your face. His brow furrowed, waiting for you to continue. “I’ve never wanted someone more, you’re a freak, fuck me already.”

You didn’t give him time to respond, scrabbling off his lap and sliding to the floor. Jisung yelped, eyes wide, hands reaching out to stop you as you fumbled with the button of his jeans. You swatted his hands and Jisung raised his hands to cover his face as you successfully unbuttoned and began to pull his jeans and boxers down past his knees, pouting up at him as your hand moved to circle his dick. 

“Oh, baby, you were that excited for me?” You cooed at him and Jisung felt every nerve in his body light up, a guttural groan escaping as you spit on his member, moving your hand up and down. “You couldn’t even be bothered to clean up, huh? Knew I’d take care of you?” 

Jisung nodded his head, mind turning fuzzy, and you continued to stroke his member, bringing your lips to his tip and blowing cool air. Jisung’s eyes rolled back and his head fell against the couch cushions. He felt his body shiver from the raging desire igniting his insides, hands digging into the fabric of the couch, mouth open, filthy noises escaping past his lips. 

The heat of your mouth, the wetness of your tongue sliding under him left Jisung gasping for air, hips involuntarily jerking upwards, frantic to be connected with you. You gargled around him, nose brushing his pubic bone, tickling his skin there. Jisung didn’t know where to look, your eyes, staring lustfully up at him, pleasure blatant, or the vulgar display of his hard length disappearing and reappearing from your mouth. 

You pulled off him completely, Jisung pouting after you as you stood to your feet, the dirty panties still tightly grasped in your fist. Your other hand slipped under the hem of your robe, Jisung unable to look away, but consumed with jealousy as your hand traveled upwards to your core. He shot forward, fingers gliding up your leg, following the same path of your hands, finally resting on top of them and together you both pulled your new underwear down your legs. 

Jisung leaned closer to you, his forehead resting against your lower belly once you were straight again, his glasses digging into his face. Breathing harshly against the fabric, his hands continuing their exploration, fingers touching the spot that had him salivating, hungry for a taste. Your hand running up his back, fingers sinking into his hair.

“Please?”

The whisper fell from you both, one pleading, the other demanding. 

He couldn’t tell you who moved first, but soon your robe was undone and your bare, leaking cunt humping against his crying dick. The slide of your folds drew a high pitched moan from him, Jisung’s hand moving down to guide his length inside of you; almost screaming in desperation when his tip caught your aching core. 

“Fuck, Jisung, if you don’t fuck me already, I swear- oh god!” Your hands scrambled for purchase on his body. Face completely flushed and looking throughly fucked, your eyes blown wide open. Jisung groaned violently, his face flush, glasses sitting askew on his face, useless with how close you are to him. He wouldn’t even need his own eyes with the way he’s memorizing your body, memorizing the way your tight passage, the wet warmth molding itself around his length. Spongy walls searing into his very being, almost making it painful for him to pull out.

But to see the look of your face every time he pushed back in, hitting that spot inside of you each time. Your robe slipping over one of your shoulders, hair surrounding your face wildly, your bottom lip tugged roughly between your teeth. 

You’re beautiful. 

Jisung couldn’t hold the high pitched moans, your hips moving rapidly above him, knees planted comfortably on either side of him. His hands resting, squeezing, pinching at the pudginess of your ass, Jisung suddenly felt overcome with the desire to taste it. He spread his fingers, bouncing each cheek in tandem with both your thrusts and grinds. 

“Oh f-fuck, you feel so good, b-baby,” Jisung’s face screwed up, he felt as though his heart would burst from his chest. The pleasure and emotions he felt for you were bursting out of him, leaving him to babble your praises, drool slipping down his lips as he mouthed at your nipple. The peak readily being bitten and sucked to appease his desires. 

Jisung’s ears were blessed with the sing songs of your moans, whines taking on a raspy tone. Your nails digging into shoulders and biceps, breaths a stuttering gasp as you continued to ride him. He felt as if he were, the reality of the situation solidifying with each thrusts, each wet sound of your essence gushing onto his thighs and shaft. 

“‘M g-gonna, I- I- think,”

“Don’t fucking cum without me, you said you’d be a good boy for me huh?” The furrow in your eyebrows emphasizing the filth coming from your mouth. A hand moved itself into his hair, gripping at the strands and pulling his head back, mouth falling open in immediate compliance as your lips descended onto his. 

Stopping just an inch short, Jisung whines as a glob of spit is suddenly shot into his mouth, your lips moving to his ear. 

“Swallow it, pretty,” gentle kisses are pressed into his Adam’s apple as it moves with his gulp, a large contrast to the continuance vicious movement of your lips, his hands still on your ass, squeezing and gripping, going up and down to help relieve you of some of the work. 

Jisung’s eyes suddenly zeroed in on the movement of your tits, nipples crying out to be kissed. As if under some compulsive force, his lips and teeth snag onto your right nipple, tongue laving and harshly sucking, moaning at the satisfaction running through his nerves. 

This can’t be real. 

You can’t be real.

It was as if the planets aligned, each stroke bringing him closer and closer to pure bliss, overwhelmed with the fear of it ending. Jisung latched onto your other nipple, becoming desperate to have his fill. Hands scrambling to squeeze and remember. 

His eyes moved to meet yours, still able to make you out even from the condensation on his glasses. Your eyes were fierce as you drew him closer, Jisung struggling to breathe from the intensity, willing to do whatever you asked or wanted of him as long as it meant he could stay buried between your thighs. 

You tugged his head closer, hands gripping at his hair and maneuvering his head where you wanted him. His mouth separating from your bruising and swollen nipple, a string of spit connecting him to it before breaking from the force of your hold. 

Mouths parted and touching, breaths being shared as you both drew closer to the epitome of pleasure. The high pitch of moans released in unison could’ve been heard throughout the entire neighborhood. Spurt after spurt, Jisung released inside of you, almost causing a visceral reaction from him at the fact that he just came inside you. Painting you with himself, continuing to fuck it back inside of you, hoping it would stick to you forever, leaking, dripping constantly down your legs for everyone to see. 

Jisung continued to whine even as the oversensitivity became too much. He suddenly felt your fingers slide up his shirt, pinching his nipples harshly, causing his hips to stutter and a few more spurts to release out of him. 

He slumped back on the couch, hands wrapping around you and tugging you flush against him, chests heaving. You hummed in his ear, moving your arms out from between the two of you and wrapping them around his shoulders, one hand gliding up to his hair and slowly massaging him. 

“You did so well for me, sweet boy, huh?” You turned your face, nose nuzzling his temple, Jisung pouted and tightened his hold around you. He nodded his head, moving his face to press his lips to your neck, mumbling his agreement further. 

One of your hands moved towards his face, straightening his glasses, the fog on them finally having dissipated. You pulled back, both of you wincing as you moved of him, your hand moving to cup your  cunt, moving quickly to avoid even the slightest drop of releasing. You slowly stood, your eyes dragging down his body. 

“Give me your underwear.” 

Jisung moved quickly, not wasting a second after your demand, ready to please you. The black fabric was yanked from his legs, tangling in his pants before he proudly presented them to you. The smirk on your face was pure diabolical as you slid them up your legs, snapping them against your hips. Jisung stared, mouth agape, still unable to believe that this was still happening. Never would he imagine ending his day bottomless and spent on your couch after being fucked by you. 

“Yea, we're definitely together now.” 

You bursted out laughing, your eyes falling shut, shoulders shaking. Jisung couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face, utterly content. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[lyvhie]

★ ˙ ̟ ── . “nct dream comforting you after a bad day”.

Haechan, more than anyone else, could easily read the signs of exhaustion, especially yours. And he knew it wasn’t just tiredness, it was life being unkind, again and again, leaving its weight heavy on your shoulders. That’s why he didn’t hesitate to scoot closer to you on the couch, wrapping a warm blanket around you both as he pulled you into his arms. One hand settled in your hair, gently stroking as if trying to untangle the mess inside you. “Wanna talk about it?” he asked softly. You shook your head, and he just nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmured, his voice a balm to your aching heart. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You know I’m here for you, right?” His words lingered in the quiet air between you, grounding you. “Everything will be okay, I promise.”

It always took Jisung a little while to catch on when something was off, but eventually, he noticed the shift in your mood. You weren’t yourself, and that alone was enough to make him put everything else aside. Comfort didn’t come naturally to him, he never really knew the right words or the perfect things to say. But when it came to you, he tried. And somehow, his effort was always exactly what you needed. So he stayed close, his fingers gently lacing with yours, holding your hand like an anchor. He didn’t interrupt or try to fix anything, just offered a quiet space to let you speak, however and whenever you needed to. And even if you hesitated, thinking your thoughts were silly or small, he always reassured you with those rare, earnest words. “Everything about you matters to me,” he gave your hand a light squeeze, pressing a gentle kiss on the back of it.

Either Mark was spending too much time with you or he had some kind of emotional radar, because he always, always knew how you were feeling. Whether it was happiness buzzing under your skin or sadness weighing you down, he never missed a beat. It was like he could read your mood before you even said a word. So it didn’t take him long to notice something was off. Without needing to ask twice, he pulled you close, settling you on his lap with your head tucked into the curve of his neck, his arms wrapped around you like a shield from the world. “What happened, baby?” he murmured, voice low and close. He listened to every word you said, no interruptions, no rushed reassurances. Just him and his quiet hums of understanding as his fingers drew lazy, soothing circles on the small of your back. His warmth seeped into your skin, grounding you, wrapping you in something safer than words. Then came the soft kisses, brushing against the shell of your ear, each one like a punctuation to his whispered comforts.

Chenle didn’t need you to say anything, he could read it in your eyes, in the way your shoulders drooped just slightly more than usual, in the silence that lingered too long. And once he noticed, he didn’t waste a single second. He was there, arms open, heart open, ready to listen as you poured your feelings out, no matter how tangled or heavy they were. But he didn’t stop at listening. He offered more, gentle truths, fresh perspectives, soft reminders that no, this isn’t the end of the world. That yes, things feel unbearable now, but he believed in you. He knew you’d get through it. Not today, not tomorrow, maybe not even next week, but eventually, you would.You don't have to be strong right now. “You've been strong for so long. Just rest now, I've got you,” And until then, he’d be there, reminding you that your feelings are real, valid, and worth holding. And of course, once your heart had emptied a little, he was already in the kitchen, making your favorite comfort food, because love, to him, was also served warm. He’d make a whole feast if that’s what it took to bring even a small smile to your face. Later, when you were full and wrapped in his arms, your head resting on his chest, he’d run his hand slowly along your back, whispering sweet nothings that didn’t need to make sense, only to make you feel safe.

Jaemin didn’t need to catch any subtle hints or read between the lines, you always came to him when things got heavy. No words, no explanations, just the quiet way you’d find him, and curl up close, seeking the comfort only he could give. And he was always there. No questions asked, no pressure to speak. Just his arms, his warmth, his steady heartbeat grounding you in the stillness of the room. He’d thread his fingers through your hair, slow and gentle, or tangle his own with yours, playing idly with them. He talked softly about his day—about what the neighbor’s dog did again, what weird thing his coworker said, what he had for lunch—filling the silence in the most soothing way. One of his cats would usually climb onto the bed, settling right on top of the both of you like she knew this was her job. He’d guide your hand to her soft fur, encouraging you to pet her, grounding you even more with that quiet rhythm. Time passed slowly, peacefully, until your heart felt a little lighter and the weight in your chest a little less sharp. Only then would you speak, and he would listen with his full attention, his thumb brushing your cheek with tender care.

If you were feeling bad, Renjun was feeling bad too, your mood was like a string tied to his heart, and he could feel every tug. And there was no way he’d let it stay that way. His way of being there for you wasn’t loud or pushy, it was gentle, patient, and full of quiet affection. He wouldn’t overwhelm you with questions, but his eyes would search yours softly as he asked, “Are you feeling bad?” And if you nodded, he’d only ask one more thing: “How can I make it better?” Sometimes you didn’t have the answer. And that was okay. So he’d guide you to the couch or the bed, putting on a playlist you both liked, or choosing a movie that didn’t demand too much attention. Other times, he’d just pull you into his arms, letting silence do the talking as you melted into his warmth. He never forced you to talk, just stayed close, letting his presence soothe you. A kiss to your temple here, a quiet “I’m right here” whispered into your hair there. His hugs were a safe haven, and his lips trailing soft kisses across your skin felt like magic that slowly eased the storm inside you. With him, even the hardest days felt a little less heavy. His care wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and before you even realized it, the words started spilling from your lips.

Jeno was a quiet listener, and he had a way of making you feel safe without saying much at all. No matter what kind of day you’d had, the moment you saw him, you instinctively reached for him—arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest like you were hoping your bad feelings would melt away in his warmth. And honestly? Sometimes, it almost worked. He found it endearing, the way you clung to him so tightly, like he was your anchor. His first instinct was always to shower you with soft kisses on your forehead, your hair, your cheeks, before murmuring, “What happened, baby?” His voice low, soft, just for you. As you started talking, venting about your day, he guided you to sit with him, his hands gently working at the tension in your back with practiced motions, every now and then kissing the back of your neck or your shoulder. And maybe he had already sensed something was off. Because when he came home, he had your favorite snacks in hand. No special occasion, no big explanation. Just something he thought might make you feel a little better.

↝ taglist: @nebularsung, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker, @spacejip.

[ayukas]

part one — masterlist content warnings profanities, emo jisung, emo sion, everyones emo in this one except jaemin, cute dates (BOOO COUPLES BOOO), reader is kinda mean and direct at the end but its #justified word count 6.7k including texts notes part 2!!!! im here!!!!!! i literally said i would post this tmr or saturday but i couldnt wait orz as always not proofread but i hope u still enjoy reading :D comments/reblogs are greaaatly appreciated. ayukas and jision will love u 4eva. also (plz) let me know whos ending u would like to read first! hehe taglist @renjunsversion @ddolbyong @f6llsun @egojo1st @sungbites @nonverdolly @strwberie @blondemrk @chenlezip @markkiatocafe @stqrgr7 @jisungji @taroddori @haeriaes @kukkurookkoo @polarisjisung @dudekiss3r @dejundesign @uncasings @sweetpinkblueberry @spacejip @yushiela @insbread @t-102 @haelvrty @pl4netx1a @ballsa420 @sunghoonsgfreal @rksbae @lemondetox

i dont seem to be having any effect now

falling all over the place

it took jisung two days to work up the nerve.

not because he didnt want to apologise to you—he did. badly. the guilt gnawed at him—sharp, relentless, alive. clawing at the edges of every passing hour. but every time he thought about facing you again—about the way hed looked at you like a stranger, or the way hed shut the door not just on your conversation, but on everything that tied you together—he froze.

you hadnt deserved that. you hadnt even raised your voice. all youd done was try. try to understand, try to help two dumb best friends fix whatever theyd lost.

and hed thrown that effort back in your face with nothing but bitterness and slammed doors.

so when he finally stood in front of your dorm, hoodie pulled low and hands buried deep in his sleeves, it felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff. his heartbeat was loud in his ears, echoing every awful thing hed told himself in the days since. she doesnt want to see you. she wont ever forgive you. she hates you.

he knocked anyway. once, then twice.

no answer.

he swallowed. was this how it felt for you that day? the silence? the hesitation? the weight of not knowing if the person behind the door still cared?

he raised his fist again—

and the door opened.

you stood there, blinking in surprise, a towel hung loosely around your neck, hair still a little damp. you looked tired. pretty. what was he here for again?

his throat dried up instantly. "...hi."

you didnt respond right away and he saw the flash of wariness in your eyes. the memory of that night still lived there. of course it did. hed put it there.

"i was just about to go to bed," you said softly. not cold. not angry. just… tired. like this conversation was a weight you hadnt wanted to carry tonight.

"i know." jisung shifted his weight, biting the inside of his cheek. "i just—can i talk to you? just for a second. please?"

you held his gaze for a moment longer. he didnt know what you were looking for—a crack in his voice? a sign that this wasnt just guilt talking? but whatever it was, something in you softened and you stepped aside without a word.

"im sorry," he said as soon as the door closed behind him. his voice cracked, just a little. "i was a dick—a complete fucking asshole, actually."

you looked at him, unblinking. waiting.

"i shouldnt have shut you out. shouldnt have told you to leave. you were only trying to help, and i acted like—like you were the enemy or something. that wasnt fair." he ran a hand through his hair, eyes dropping to the floor. "i was angry. at sion. at myself. at... everything. but i took it out on you. and im sorry."

your expression didnt shift right away. that made sense. he hadnt come here to be forgiven in five seconds.

but eventually, you exhaled—a slow, heavy breath—and sat down on the edge of your couch, gesturing faintly for him to do the same.

so he did. carefully. like even the cushion might reject him.

"you were upset. i get it." you said after a beat. "but it sucked. big time. i thought you hated me."

"i dont!" he said quickly, voice jumping up a few octaves. "i dont. i was just—just overwhelmed. i know that doesnt make it okay though."

there was another pause. then, quietly, you nodded. "okay."

not everything was fixed. the ache still lingered. but you didnt move away when he shifted slightly and sat closer to you.

and that was something.

that night, you both stayed there longer than either of you expected. no deep talks. no emotional confessions. just soft silences and the occasional half-hearted joke.

by the time jisung left, it felt like the door was slightly more open than before.

and that was enough.

the days that followed, however, were strange.

maybe it was guilt. maybe it was yushis annoying voice still echoing in his head—help him out. let her choose.

but jisung found himself stepping back. gently. quietly. almost unnoticed.

it started with the little things.

and he absolutely wanted to. he was free. painfully, completely free. bored, even.

when he saw you later that evening, you told him you went anyway with sion. just the two of you. you looked happy.

he smiled like it didnt sting.

it kept happening. like a couple days later when you asked if he wanted to watch the new horror movie that just came out. you knew he hated horror movies—loved making a show of being terrified, even more than the actual scares—but he always said yes anyway.

jisung had already downloaded the movie. already picked snacks.

he made it casual. effortless. he didnt push so much as gently nudge. every word was weighted with intention, every excuse crafted like a bridge.

and every time the two of you ended up spending time together, jisung told himself it was fine. he was making up for his mistakes. he was doing the right thing.

but there were moments—tiny, fleeting ones—when hed check his phone after, open your chat, and type something only to backspace it all.

he kept deleting words he wanted to say.

he kept smiling through the ache in his chest.

it was a week later when sion finally cornered him.

in the hallway. after dance practice. no one else around.

jisung turned the corner and nearly dropped his bottle at the sight of sion standing there waiting with his arms crossed.

"jesus—"

"whats wrong with you?"

jisung blinked. "…huh?"

sions stare was flat. "dont play dumb, park."

"i dont know what youre talking about…?"

"oh, you know exactly what im talking about."

"every time yn asks to hang out, you vanish. and then she ends up with me. its like fucking clockwork."

"maybe she just likes hanging out with you," jisung mumbled, eyes darting.

"she invited you."

"…coincidence?"

"jisung."

fuck.

"okay!" jisung snapped, louder than intended. "okay, yeah, maybe ive been... sorta setting you up. a little. kinda."

sion looked like someone had just handed him a puzzle piece he didnt ask for.

"…what? why?"

jisungs shoulders slumped. the hallway felt too quiet.

"because, i can tell that youre serious about her, sion. because you backed off for me, even when you were serious. and i—fuck, you were trying to be the bigger person, and i figured maybe i should too."

sion didnt say anything. he just looked at him. long and unreadable.

"…so what? youre trying to play matchmaker now?"

jisung laughed—tired and bitter. "i guess."

a silence stretched between them. neither of them moved.

then, finally, sion said quietly, "yushi gave you this advice, didnt he?"

jisung cracked a smile.

"you dont have to do this, you know."

"i know." jisungs smile faltered, his voice cracking. 

he didnt say it, but it was there—in the quiet between them.

im doing this because i care about you too.because im afraid if i dont do this ill lose you. the both of you.

sion nodded slowly. then he stepped back, as if letting the moment settle.

and just like that, something shifted.

later that week, the group had met up for late-night ramen. the shop was warm with laughter, the air filled with steam and spice. jisung was the last to arrive, brushing raindrops from his hoodie as he stepped inside.

he paused at the threshold of the small restaurant, eyes scanning for an open seat—only to see you already tucked beside sion, shoulders bumping gently, your hand resting beside his on the bench like it always belonged there, laughing about something yushi had said.

jisung lingered at the doorway for a beat too long. long enough to be noticed.

sion glanced up.

their eyes met.

for a second, just a second, sions smile faltered. he looked at jisung like he was waiting for something—permission, maybe. a sign.

and jisung gave it. 

a quick, short nod.

the kind you give when youre trying to be brave.

then he smiled.

not because he felt happy.

but because he was trying.

and even if trying hurt, it had to be enough.

we get back to my house

your hands, my mouth

it started subtly—so subtly, in fact, that neither of you said the word aloud.

not once.

no label. no announcement. no confessions whispered under streetlights. just a quiet, unspoken shift. a soft click in the way your lives began to orbit closer—the distance once held like a shield now folding into something... warmer.

it wasnt dating.

not officially.

but sion had made a choice.

he took the chance jisung gave him—not as a guilt-ridden gift, but as a promise. a promise that if someone was going to love you the way you deserved, he wouldnt waste the opening.

so he started showing up.

started trying.

he walked you home more often now. waited for you after your classes, his figure leaning against the brick wall with earbuds lazily tucked in and one hand jammed in his pocket.

sometimes, girls he used to flirt with would pass by—old numbers in his phone, past flings who knew him by smirks and fleeting compliments—but he barely looked up. a few would approach, laughter in their tone and a hint of something familiar in their eyes, but he shut them down each time with a polite nod or a simple, "im waiting for someone." and he was. you. not just as an excuse. as a truth. because lately, he didnt want to entertain anyone else. not when he knew youd come walking out that door soon.

his change was a slow realisation for you.

youd always known sion as the boy who could charm a room with one smile. the one who kept things casual and playful, never serious. youd seen him lean against lockers, grinning down at girls whose names he never really remembered. youd rolled your eyes at his flirtations, shrugged off the winks and overly-smooth lines he tossed around like candy.

but lately?

lately, you noticed him pull away.

a girl from your shared elective had once been glued to his side. you watched her approach him again by the vending machines one afternoon, all glossy lips and hopeful glances. but sion didnt lean in. didnt smile the way he used to. he just shook his head gently and walked away—eyes already searching for you across the field.

you didnt say anything about it.

but something fluttered in your chest.

sion noticed the little things.

he remembered how you liked your drinks, the way your nose scrunched when something was too sweet or too sour. the way your voice softened when you were tired but didnt want to say goodbye. the way you preferred to walk on the left side, just out of instinct.

he adjusted for you without needing to be asked.

once, he showed up outside your class with your favourite drink. he didnt say much, just handed it over with a barely-there brush of his fingers and a half-smile that curled like a secret only he and you shared.

you drank it during lecture. smiled like an idiot.

there was another day when he texted you.

you ended up at the night market.

it wasnt fancy. extremely spontaneous. but it was soft.

he bought you a steamed bun without asking, pulled you back from a puddle before you stepped in it. you teased him for fussing. he rolled his eyes and nudged your shoulder. he let his fingers linger a little too long against yours when you passed him the giant cup of watermelon juice.

it wasnt flashy.

it didnt need to be.

you laughed at the way he bickered with the vendor over 500 won. he laughed at the way you irked your nose at candied squid. he kept looking at you like he couldnt believe you were really there with him.

"i forgot how fun this is," you said, mouth full of sweet pancake.

"being with me?" he asked, teasing.

you rolled your eyes. "being like this."

he went quiet. just for a second. then, "...yeah. me too."

and then, there were the smaller moments. soft snapshots you didnt realise were adding up to something more.

him offering his jacket when it got cold.

you keeping it on even after the shivers stopped.

him holding your wrist lightly as he pulled you through a crowded walkway.

his hand not falling away once you made it through.

the way he brushed your hair back once—so gently, like he didnt trust himself to do more.

the way he stopped asking if you wanted to see him and started saying, "meet me after class."

and you never said no.

you started looking forward to his messages. started lingering beside him longer when the rest of your friends had already walked ahead. you noticed how his laugh softened when you were the one who caused it. how his eyes always found you first in a crowd.

and slowly, you found yourself falling into rhythm with him. not in leaps or dizzying speed—but in small, sweet steps. a comfort you hadnt expected. a presence that stayed.

one evening, you found yourselves at a small park near campus. hed bought a melon soda for himself, a strawberry one for you. you both sat on the swings even though you barely swung at all.

"why now?" you asked softly, eyes watching the sky turn from pale blue to bruised violet.

"hm?"

you glanced at him. “you. us. why now?”

sion exhaled. thought for a moment. then said, "because i finally stopped being scared of the answer."

your breath caught. he met your gaze, calm and steady.

"and because i wanted to."

"ive always wanted to."

you looked away first, heart loud in your ears.

"im glad," you said.

he bumped his shoulder gently into yours.

"so am i."

meanwhile, jisung continued to keep his distance. he still showed up, of course. still texted back. still made the group laugh with dumb jokes and teasing comments, even if he laughed a little less than he used to.

because what else could he do?

hed chosen this. chosen to be the friend. the friend who handed over a piece of his heart and never asked for it back.

he told himself he was fine.

he told himself he was proud of sion.

he told himself you looked happy.

and that had to be enough.

…right?

now i just stop myself around you

sion didnt mean to pull away.

it wasnt calculated. wasnt planned. it wasnt even something he noticed—at least not at first.

but love, when laced with fear, is a fragile thing. always trembling, always waiting to break.

and fear had always lived inside him like a ghost in the walls—quiet until you truly listened, and harmless until you felt it breathing down your neck.

it happened slowly. like dusk bleeding into night.

one day, he just stopped replying to your texts right away. another, he missed your call and didnt think to call back. the next, he cancelled on your date—again.

you told yourself it was nothing.

but nothing doesnt make your chest ache.

nothing doesnt feel like being quietly unloved.

of course, he still messaged you. still showed up outside your lecture halls sometimes. still sent you dumb selfies when he was hanging out with yushi or jisung, still bought you your favourite drink if he happened to pass a cafe that reminded him of you. but it came with delays now. with longer pauses between texts. with vague reasons for not walking you home. with quiet excuses like, "something came up at home," "im hanging out with the guys today," "ill call you later to catch up."

you told yourself not to overthink. that everyone got busy sometimes.

but you felt it.

the distance.

and sion felt it too. not the space between your bodies—he still saw you. still held your hand when he remembered to reach for it. but there was a wall building in his chest, and no matter how much he wanted to ignore it, it kept rising, brick by brick, built from every echo of doubt, every whispered fear.

the closer you got, the louder his thoughts became.

shes going to leave once she remembers who i really am.

she deserves someone better. someone who isnt going to mess everything up.

youre not cut out for this. youre going to ruin it just like you always do.

and it wasnt fair.

because for once, he really wanted to try.

but sion didnt know how to hold something precious without flinching. without waiting for it to fall apart in his hands. and so, almost without meaning to, he began to sabotage it.

he started cancelling on you more often.

hed text last minute—"sorry cant make it"—without offering a reason. sometimes he wouldnt text at all. sometimes youd get ready, waiting by the door, only to realise half an hour had passed and he hadnt shown up.

he told himself he was protecting you from the worst parts of him. that if he made you drift, you wouldnt hate him when things went wrong.

but it still hurt you.

and that hurt him more than he could admit.

but the worst part? the parties.

you werent always there—but others were. other people. other girls. girls who used to be part of his past. girls who still laughed too loudly around him. who leaned too close, their perfume clinging to his jacket. he never flirted—not like before. but he also didnt push them away. he didnt try to stop the rumors that started circling again. and maybe it wasnt on purpose. but that didnt make it any less painful when people started asking you stuff like—"hey, i thought you and sion were…?" or "wasnt he just with that girl at haechans party?"

you kept defending him.

until you couldnt.

it all came to a head one rainy tuesday afternoon.

you hadnt heard from sion in three days. not a text. not even a "sorry" after missing your movie night—the one he asked for.

and you sat in your dorm, your thumb hovering over your phone, trying to tell yourself that this wasnt what it looked like.

that he wouldnt just ghost you.

that he cared.

that hes changed.

but your heart was starting to ache with the weight of all the almosts.

so, you did what you hadnt done in weeks.

you messaged your best friend.

jisung met you at the usual bench near the student union—fluffy hair swaying through the wind, one hand tucked into his pocket as he played with his phone. when he saw your face, however, his sweet smile faded. you didnt even have to say anything, just sat down beside him, knees barely brushing, the quiet between you heavier than usual.

jisung tilted his head. "are you okay?"

you swallowed, eyes burning. "its sion."

his name still tasted like something hopeful on your tongue. but less so than before.

"hes been… off. distant. cancelling on me, not replying my texts, just…" you shook your head, your voice cracking. "and i keep pretending its okay. that maybe hes just busy or stressed. but i think—i know, hes pulling away. i think hes leaving, and i dont know why."

jisung went very still.

you wiped at your eyes quickly. "was i stupid to think this would work? that he really wanted this?"

"no—no," jisungs voice was soft, firm. “you werent stupid.”

he looked down at his shoes, quiet for a long moment. then said, "sometimes people run because theyre scared. not because you did anything wrong."

you looked at him, surprised. "you think hes scared?"

"i know he is." jisung exhaled. "sions always been scared of things that feel real. that was why we fought a few months back. well kinda. hes not used to it. doesnt think he deserves it. so he pushes it away before it can leave him first."

the words sank in slow, bitter.

"but i dont want to leave," you whispered.

"i know." he said gently.

across campus, sion stared at your name glowing on his screen like a scar.

he couldnt bring himself to open your texts.

couldnt face what hed done.

the guilt sat heavy on his ribs, like a weight he couldnt breathe around. he thought back to the way youd smiled at him at the swings. the way youd said "im glad."

"what the hells wrong with me?" he muttered, voice hoarse.

he stood alone on the rooftop of the arts building—where no one could hear the way he hated on himself. the city stretched below him, cold and uncaring. and all he could think about was how he was ruining it. ruining you.

you deserved someone better.

he told himself that again.

because maybe if he said it enough, it would justify the way he was hurting you now.

but deep down, he knew.

there were no justifications.

just fear.

just him.

always him.

i guess ill never learn

cause i stay another hour or two

"yn, you have to come! this party was made for you. please please please please please please—"

jaemins voice cut through the buzz of the busy campus courtyard as you tried to ignore his enthusiastic pleas. he bounced in front of you, all energy and wide eyes, grin wide enough to be contagious, and hands gripping your shoulders as if you might disappear if he let go.

"i dont know, jaem," you said, half-heartedly trying to pull away. "ive got a lot on my mind—"

"nope, no excuses. youre coming," jaemin interrupted, shaking his head like he was sizing you up for a challenge. "its been so long since youve had fun, yn. this is your chance to finally let go! destress! whatever." he grinned wider, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "come on! you know youll have a good time. im the host."

you sighed, rolling your eyes as you tried to pull away again, but jaemins grip only tightened, pulling you closer to him. that was when you realised he wasnt going to give up. your best friend was determined, and you did need a break, even if it meant stepping out of your comfort zone, away from the mess of your tangled thoughts.

"fine," you said reluctantly, raising your hands in mock surrender. "but only because you look like youre one breath away from begging."

jaemins face immediately lit up. "i knew youd come around!" he gave you a one-armed hug before pulling out his phone and texting you the details.

as you watched his sparkly eyes type down the details of his party for you, you stood there for a moment, feeling a tug of uncertainty. you hadnt planned to go out, not when everything with sion felt like it was unraveling. you hadnt heard from him properly in days, and the distance between you felt like a chasm widening with every passing moment. but jaemin was right—it had been a long time since you let yourself have fun. this was your chance to let go. even if it was just for a night.

hours later, you stood in front of your mirror, staring at your reflection. minjeong had already made it clear that you werent leaving the house looking like heartbreak incarnate, so when shed grabbed you earlier, shed forced you into an impromptu makeover.

her hands had been quick as she picked out an outfit—an off shoulder black dress that cut off just above your knees and flowed gently around your figure, paired with a simple, delicate silver necklace that caught the light every time you moved.

"youre going to have fun tonight," minjeong had insisted as she worked on your hair, her voice calm, but full of determination. "youre going to be surrounded by good friends, good vibes, and you deserve to forget about whatever youve been thinking for just a little while."

you hadnt fought her on it. because deep down, you knew she was right. you did need to escape.

"are you sure this isnt too much?" you asked, nervously fiddling with the edge of the dress.

minjeong just smiled, smoothing the strands of your hair. "baby, you could wear a trash bag and still turn heads. trust me, you look perfect."

with a final nod of approval from her, you finally left the safety of your room, your heart a little heavier than it shouldve been. jaemins party wasnt just an escape for you—it was a break from the slow undoing of everything youd been holding onto. you didnt know how it would feel, but you couldnt keep waiting for things to just fall back into place on their own.

by the time you arrived at jaemin’s house, the party was already in full swing. music thumped in the background, voices echoed in a way that told you everyone was already a little tipsy, and the flashing lights in the living room created a psychedelic haze. jaemin had a knack for throwing parties like this—unpredictable,  little wild, and always loud enough to drown out any lingering thoughts.

jaemin spotted you immediately after you, a wide grin spreading across his face. "yn! you made it!" he rushed over, his arms open for a hug before pulling you into the crowd. you smiled, but the knot of unease in your stomach never loosened

"you look amazing," he said, his voice low as he pulled back to take in your outfit.

you could feel the compliments roll off your shoulders, but the buzz of the crowd made everything feel a bit muffled. you were trying not to think about sion, not to let the situation ruin the night. but no matter how hard you tried to focus on jaemins energy, your thoughts kept returning to the feeling of not having sion beside you. the space between you had become too noticeable.

"im really glad youre here," jaemin continued, leading you toward the kitchen. "you want a drink? something to help you relax?" he was clearly eager to get you into the party mood.

you shook your head, though the offer was tempting. you were already feeling the familiar ache, and you didnt want to add alcohol to the mix. jaemin, however, handed you a drink anyways, going on about how the cool liquid could be your comfort against the heat of the crowd.

"and hey—dont worry about sion," jaemin said suddenly, his voice quieter now as he leaned in, an almost too knowing expression crossing his face. "i know you two have been… rocky lately, but im sure itll get better."

you froze, your heart skipping a beat. "what do you mean?"

he just shrugged, still grinning, but it didnt quite reach his eyes. "you know how he gets sometimes. just, dont let him pull you down tonight, okay?"

you opened your mouth to ask him more, but before you could, jaemin was pulled away by a friend calling for him across the room. you were left standing there, the words hanging in the air, unanswered.

you tried to forget what jaemin said, tried to lose yourself in the party, tried to focus on the music, the laughter, and the familiar faces. but it wasnt long before you spotted sion across the room. his presence always seemed to pull you in like gravity.

you wanted to look away, to focus on something else, but you couldnt.

he was surrounded a small crowd of people, laughing along with them, looking carefree in a way that only made the distance between you two feel more suffocating. his laugh rang out above the others, and you could feel the sting of it—the way it seemed effortless for him, while you were just trying not to fall apart.

and then you saw her.

a girl, one you easily recognised from his past, her arm resting casually over sions waist. you watched, heart pounding, as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear, her fingers brushing against his shirt. you told yourself to look away, to focus on anything else, but your body wouldnt listen. your chest tightened, your breath catching as you watched them.

a kiss.

it was brief, just a light peck on the lips, but it was enough to send shockwaves through your body. the music around you seemed to fade away, replaced by the rush of blood in your ears.

you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, tried to make yourself breathe, but the hurt was too sharp, too fresh. the final straw. you hadnt expected it, but you couldnt ignore it.

as sion pulled back, you saw the way he looked around, and for a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours. but there was no sign of recognition, no apology, just an innocent glance before his attention shifted back to the girl infront of him.

you had seen enough.

you didnt know when you started walking away from the party, but before you could think it through, you were out the door, your heart pounding in your chest. your mind was still reeling from the sight, and it wasnt until jisung found you in the driveway that you realised youd been holding your breath.

"yn?" his voice was soft, concerned. "hey, hey, are you okay? whats wrong?"

you couldnt answer, not without giving in to the tears that had started to well in your eyes. instead, you just shook your head, letting him guide you away from the noise, away from everything that hurt.

you know i cant be found with you

the night split open like a wound.

you dont remember how you left the party. not really. everything after the kiss was a blur—faces spinning in slow motion, the blood rushing in your ears louder than the music, your breath catching somewhere between your ribs.

you just remembered turning—away from sion, away from the girl wrapped around him.

from the way her hands curled into his shirt, the way his mouth met hers like it didnt matter, like you hadnt been standing a few steps away with your heart in your hands.

you didnt cry.

not there. not yet.

maybe because part of you wasnt surprised. maybe because the ache had been building for weeks and now it had finally broken.

maybe because the moment his lips touched hers, it all just… clicked.

he was never going to change. he was never going to choose you the way you wanted. 

you pushed through the crowd without saying goodbye. not to minjeong, not to jaemin—not even to yushi, who called your name from the kitchen. your legs carried you to the front door on autopilot, but the weight in your chest made it hard to breathe, harder still to walk.

thats when jisung found you.

you didnt know if hed seen. if someone had told him, or if he just knew from the way your expression cracked like ice underfoot. but he didnt say anything. he just appeared, slipping into step beside you like he always did. 

like he always had.

you didnt speak as he led you off the driveway, didnt stop him when his hand gently touched the small of your back, guiding you down the sidewalk, into the night.

he didnt ask you any questions. he didnt pry or press for answers you werent ready to give. instead, he just walked beside you, letting the silence stretch between you.

but this silence was different. 

it wasnt heavy.

wasnt suffocating.

it was... safe.

it was jisung.

the walk home was colder than usual. you tugged your sleeves over your hands, letting the fabric cover your shaking fingers. your shoes clicked against the pavement with each step, but even that sound felt muffled.

muted.

like your heart.

you exhaled sharply, blinking up at the night sky as if the stars could offer answers. "i dont know what im doing."

jisung hummed softly beside you. "with sion?"

you swallowed, throat tight, and nodded.

he let out a small sigh, kicking at a stray pebble on the sidewalk. "you dont have to figure it out all at once, you know."

"thats the thing." your voice wavered. "i feel like i already have. i feel like hes already made his choice, and i just—i just didnt want to accept it."

jisung stopped walking.

you turned to look at him, only to find him staring at you with an unreadable expression. the streetlight cast a faint glow over his features, softening the sharp lines of his jaw, the flicker of something deep in his eyes.

"but what about you?" he asked quietly.

your breath hitched.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean..." he hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "sions not the only one who gets to make choices, you know. you get to choose, too."

the words sank in slow, like rain soaking through cotton. something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. jisung had always been there—always the one to make you laugh, always the one to offer comfort without asking for anything in return.

but now, there was no humor in his voice. just quiet sincerity.

and suddenly, you realised something.

jisung had been waiting.

waiting for you to see him.

waiting for you to realise that maybe—just maybe—he could be the one to hold you together instead of the one who kept watching you fall apart.

the weight of the past few weeks pressed down on you all at once.

and for the first time, you let yourself lean into it.

later that night, jisung stood outside his dorm with his phone in hand, the screen glowing with one name—sion.

he stared at it for a long time. thinking of the way your voice cracked as you told him what had been going on with you and sion. the kiss. thinking of the way you looked when you said, "i think hes already made his choice."

and then he pressed call.

the line rang once.

twice.

then—

"what?" sions voice, low and guarded, filtered through the speaker.

"you free right now?" jisung asked, his tone light, but not playful.

a pause.

"…why?"

"we need to talk."

they met outside the 24-hour convenience store across campus thirty minutes later.

sion leaned against the wall, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, eyes shadowed by his fringe. he looked tired. like guilt had carved out a place behind his ribs and made a home there.

jisung didnt waste time.

"she told me you kissed someone else."

sion flinched. didnt deny it.

jisungs jaw tightened. "why?"

"i dont know," sion muttered, voice barely audible. "it just happened."

“bullshit,” jisung snapped, stepping closer. “things like that dont "just happen," sion. you knew what you were doing."

sions shoulders curled inward. "i didnt think shed be there."

"thats not the point."

silence. then sion laughed bitterly. "what do you want me to say, ji? that you were right about me from the very start? that im a fuck-up? that i ruined everything even though you so nicely gave me the chance to be with her?"

jisung looked at him for a long moment, eyes sharp, voice quieter when he finally spoke again.

"i dont want you to say anything."

"i want you to stop running."

sion stilled.

"youre scared," jisung continued. "i get it. hell, i know you better than you know yourself. but if you keep pushing her away because you think shes better off without you—then youll lose her. for real. not because she walked, but because you shoved her out the door."

sion looked down, his breath coming shallow. "you think i dont know that?"

"then act like it."

another pause.

then jisungs voice dropped, quiet but firm. "she deserves to hear it. everything. you owe her that much."

for crying out loud,

settle down!

the air was heavy—cloying, as if the sky itself was holding its breath. the world moved in slow motion around you, footsteps blurred across the pavement, headlights shimmered by in glances of gold and silver. distant chatter floated by like static, all of it too far away to matter.

sion stood just outside your dorm building, hoodie drawn over his head, fingers twitching at the hem of his sleeves like he didnt know what to do with himself. you almost walked past him. almost kept going, because it hurt too much to see him. to see that familiar slouch of his shoulders, that same mouth that had once kissed your forehead now curled tight with words he still hadnt said.

but you stopped.

because no matter how much it hurt, you needed to hear it. you needed to know. even if it was going to break you.

"sion."

he looked up, startled—like he hadnt expected you to actually show. like hed been hoping and dreading it all at once.

his eyes met yours, and for a second, just a second, the rest of the world fell away.

you could still see the boy you used to believe in.

and that hurt most of all.

he opened his mouth like he wanted to speak. like maybe hed rehearsed this moment a hundred times. but no sound came out.

you raised your eyebrows slightly. "go ahead."

he looked down at the ground. "i—idont know what to say."

"then whyd you even ask me to come?" you asked, voice sharp but quiet.

he fidgeted again, that same anxious pull at his sleeve. "because i… i didnt want it to end like that."

you laughed, bitter. "you mean with you kissing someone else?"

his head snapped up. "it didnt mean anything."

you stared at him. "maybe thats what hurts most. it didnt mean anything. and you still did it."

sion took a step forward, then stopped himself. his hands were clenched now, balled into fists at his sides. "i didnt know you were there."

"so if i hadnt seen it, would you have told me?"

he didnt answer.

and that was your answer.

you nodded, swallowing around the lump forming in your throat. "you know what the worst part is?"

he looked at you, guilt etched into the corners of his mouth.

"youve never even kissed me," you whispered.

silence.

"weve had our moments, sion. so many moments. and you always stopped yourself. do you know how many times i thought maybe—maybe you just didnt like me like that? that maybe it was all in my head?"

he stepped forward again, desperation blooming in his expression. "no! it wasnt like that at all. i didn’t kiss you because—because you werent just someone to me. youre not just some girl i can kiss and walk away from."

your eyes burned. "but you kissed her."

he froze.

"so what does that make me?"

he opened his mouth, and this time, the words tumbled out—like hed been choking on them back for far too long. "i was scared, okay? ive never felt like this before. with you—its different. you make me feel like i could be someone better. and that terrifies me."

"you think thats an excuse?"

"no," he said, quieter now. "its not. i just... i didnt know how to be enough for you."

the confession lingered in the air between you. heavy. raw.

"you didnt have to be perfect, sion," you said, voice shaking. "you just had to choose me."

he looked like he might cry. or scream. or run.

but he did none of those things.

he just stood there.

frozen.

silent.

still.

and that was the thing about sion, wasnt it?

he never could decide.

and god, you were so tired of waiting for him to.

your chest ached. your voice came quieter now, but no softer.

"so what now, sion?"

he flinched.

you tilted your head, eyes burning. "are you finally ready to stop running from me? from us?"

you stepped forward once. a beat. then the final blow.

"to settle down?"

[nightpoemz]

★☆*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･' ૮ .◜◡◝ა '･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆★

bsf!dreamies down bad with liquid courage

an: i'm sorry… idk felt like apologizing in advance. minors dni! ★

masterlist

[winwintea]

polaris

PAIRING ↬ park jisung x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ fluff, romance, friends to lovers au, camping, stargazing & deep thoughts, jisung cannot make a tent to save his life, instant ramen, burnt toast

SUMMARY ↬ some stars guide ships. some stars guide hearts.

WORD COUNT ↬ 2.9k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ happy birthday to my love my dearest my lovely @polarisjisung 🫶🫶 i told u i write fics best when they’re spontaneous 😛 lowkey u can tell this was clearly inspired by your user… but really i think polaris is such a pretty name 🫶🫶 JUST LIKE U HO. anyways i hope u enjoy and have the very best day ever.

PLAYLIST ↬ we don’t believe what’s on tv - twenty one pilots; starry night - mamamoo; rises the moon - liana flores; youth - troye sivan; talking to the moon - bruno mars

AS PARK JISUNG DROVE ALONG THE WINDING ROADS,

with the radio softly playing your shared playlist, he couldn’t help but steal glances at you, sitting in the passenger seat. You were humming along with your eyes half-closed, lost in thought, and in that moment, everything felt right. This is exactly what I needed—a break from the endless routine and a chance to see if the stars really do have a story to tell.

“You know,” He said with a teasing grin, “if you keep making me sing along to these old jams, I might just switch careers and go for singing instead.”

You laughed and nudged him with your shoulder. “Oh, please, you can barely carry a tune. You need your duet partner for help. I’m just glad you kept the old mixtape alive.” The way you said it was half-mocking, half-admiring, and it made his heart skip a beat.

The trip was filled with shared endless stories and jokes, that made the hours melt away effortlessly. Every stop you two made for snacks and roadside views felt like a little adventure, a perfect prelude to your camping weekend. He could tell there was something more between you maybe, yet he kept his thoughts guarded, cherishing every quiet smile and every shared glance.

By the time you reached the campsite, the sun was beginning its slow descent, casting a golden glow over the field scattered with trees and a glimmering lake in the distance. Parking the car, he stepped out and took a deep breath, the distinct aroma of coffee still lingering from our earlier stop, mixing with the freshness from the nature around them. "This is going to be so fun," He whispered to himself.

Setting up camp was supposed to be simple. In theory, it was just a matter of unfolding the tent, staking the corners, and walking away. But in practice… it was a series of disasters. He fumbled with the poles and fabric, and more than once, found the tent stubbornly refusing to stand upright.

“Here, let me help you,” you offered, half laughing as you approached with that mischievous glint in your eyes.

He looked up, frustrated yet amused, “I swear, I might have been born to explore the stars, but apparently not to set up a tent!” He chuckled, trying to mask his embarrassment.

You crossed your arms and shook your head playfully. “Seriously, Jisung? You call yourself an outdoorsman?” You reached over, “Maybe it’s time you learn from a pro.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at how effortlessly you were able to get a few jabs at him. “Okay, okay, I admit defeat. But I’m warning you—I’m a quick learner when there’s someone as patient as you guiding me.”

Together, you worked through the blustery instructions printed on that rugged bag, making mistakes that felt more like inside jokes than failures. Every time he struggled, you would flash that smile that would make any man swoon, and each moment you shared added a layer of closeness he hadn't anticipated.

As the first stars started to poke through the dusky sky, he stood back to look at your little, imperfect camp setup. Maybe he wasn’t the best at pitching a tent, but tonight, sitting beside you, under a sky full of possibilities, he felt like he’d finally pitched something that truly mattered.

Jisung sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, chopsticks dangling lazily in one hand, a half-empty cup of instant ramen in the other. The fire popped in front of you, flames licking at the cool night air, casting everything in warm, flickering gold.

“You weren’t lying,” you said, blowing on your noodles dramatically. “Ramen out here does taste like a Michelin-starred meal.”

He grinned, nudging your ankle with his foot. “That’s the magic of the woods,” he said, lifting his chopsticks like he was making a toast. “Everything tastes better when you’re slightly cold, moderately exhausted, and have no cell service.”

You laughed, “Wow. That should be on a mug.”

“I’d buy it.”

 “Of course you would,” you smirked. “You own a mug that just says ‘Existential Dread’ in Comic Sans.”

Jisung looked mildly offended. “Hey. That mug speaks to my soul.”

“You are your mug,” you shot back, biting into a fish cake. “Deeply anxious but trying your best.”

You both cracked up, and for a moment, it was just that. Just the laughter, the warmth from the fire, and the night slowly unfolding above you. The stars had started showing up, one by one, almost like guests at a party.

The ramen cups were eventually discarded beside you two, and your conversation fell into a comfortable quiet. Not the awkward kind, but the kind that made you feel safe. Like being alone together in the best way.

Jisung watched the fire for a bit, the flames dancing just like the thoughts in his head. He shifted slightly, picking at the hem of his sweater. “Can I tell you something?” he asked. His voice was lower now, a little unsure.

You turned to look at him, instantly serious. “Yeah. Of course.”

He didn’t look at you when he spoke. Just kept his eyes on the fire like it might flicker out if he blinked. “Lately... I’ve felt like I’m just kind of... floating,” he said. “Like I’m doing everything I’m supposed to, but none of it feels solid, you know?”

He rubbed his hands together, then let them rest in his lap.

“I look around, and everyone seems like they know what they’re doing. They have goals. A five-year plan. A backup plan for their five-year plan.”

You smiled softly, not saying anything yet.

“And me?” he continued, laughing without any humor in his voice. “Half the time I’m just trying not to freak out when someone asks me what I want to do with my life.”

“You don’t have to have it all figured out,” you said gently.

“I know. I know, like, logically.” He tapped his temple. “But in here it just feels like I’m stuck in this... floaty space. Drifting. Like space junk.”

“Space junk?” you echoed, amused.

“Yeah. You know, like... a broken satellite just orbiting and not really doing anything. That’s me.”

There was a beat of silence, but not the scary kind. It was more like a waiting for each other to process thoughts kinda silence.

And then he spoke again. “You always seem so grounded to me,” he said quietly. “Like you have this... gravity. People notice when you walk in the room. I guess I’ve always kind of admired that.”

You looked down at her hands, suddenly a little shy. “Funny you say that… because I’ve always felt like I’m just... forgettable.”

Jisung blinked. “What? No way.”

“I’m serious.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes I feel like people only see the surface-level stuff. Like they think they know me, but they don’t really see me.”

He sat up a little straighter. “I see you.”

The words came out before he even thought about them.

You looked at him, surprised. Not shocked, but maybe just a little stunned. 

“I mean it,” he said. “I see all the little things. The way you always remember to bring extra napkins wherever we go. The way you hum when you’re thinking. How you look for constellations before you even sit down.”

You smiled, slow and soft.

“I see you,” he said again, quieter this time. “And I don’t think I could ever forget you.”

The two of you sat like that for a while, the crackle of the fire wrapping around you like a blanket. The stars above them were clearer than he’d ever seen them now. Like someone had just wiped down the sky.

Eventually, you leaned your head against his shoulder. “You’re not space junk,” you murmured.

He laughed under his breath. “Thanks.”

“You’re like one of those little satellites that plays music back to Earth,” you continued, eyes closed now. “Floating, yeah. But still doing something beautiful.”

Jisung felt something in his chest twist in the best way. Like maybe, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t drifting aimlessly. Maybe he’d found his orbit.

The night had gotten colder, but neither of you really noticed. Wrapped up in layers, half from clothes and half from all the things left unsaid, you and Jisung made your way along the narrow dirt path he’d scouted earlier that day.

He walked a little ahead, the flashlight beam reflecting off of rocks and trees, but kept glancing back every few seconds just to make sure you were still right there.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and warm.

“Still alive,” you said with a small laugh, brushing a branch out of your face.

“Impressive,” he replied. “We’ve officially survived instant ramen, campfire therapy, and now hiking at night. We’re unstoppable.”

You rolled your eyes, but he caught the way you were smiling in the dark. Eventually, the trees opened up to reveal a wide, empty clearing. No light pollution. No noise. Just a blanket of stars scattered across the sky like spilled glitter.

Jisung slowed to a stop and turned around, sweeping his arm out dramatically. “Tada. Our very own galaxy viewing suite.”

You let out a soft gasp. “Okay, this is… wow.”

He beamed. “Right?”

You both spread out the blanket on the cool grass, then lay down side by side. Shoulders just barely touching. Fingers not quite. The silence was different now. It was less heavy yet more electric. The kind of silence where you could heart how loud your heartbeat feels in your chest.

Jisung tilted his head back, staring up. “So. If I ever get to work at NASA, I think I’ll rename some of the stars.”

“Oh no,” you murmured.

“Oh yes,” he said, grinning like a kid with a secret. “That bright one over there? That’s definitely ‘Noodle Boy.’”

You snorted. “Why?”

“Because it looks kind of lopsided, and also it’s probably responsible for making me crave ramen again.”

You pointed to another cluster. “And that one?”

“That’s ‘Camp Tent Tragedy.’ In honor of my heroic struggle.”

“Your clownery, you mean.”

He gasped dramatically. “I was vulnerable. And possibly being attacked by the tent poles.”

You both burst into laughter, but it faded naturally, replaced by something quieter. Softer. Your voice dropped to a near whisper. “Polaris.”

Jisung turned his head toward you. “Huh?”

You pointed up, to a star just slightly brighter than the others. “There. That’s the North Star. Polaris. It’s my favorite.”

He looked where you were pointing, then back at you. “Why?”

“Because no matter where you are in the world, Polaris always shows you north,” you said. “It’s constant. Reliable. It’s been guiding travelers for centuries.”

Jisung didn’t say anything right away. He watched the way your eyes lit up when you talked about it, how the starlight reflected in them like tiny constellations of their own. And then, after a moment, “That’s what you are to me, you know.”

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“My Polaris,” he said, barely more than a breath. “When I feel lost… you’re always there. Just quietly existing, guiding me without even trying.”

The words hung in the air like frost, fragile and shimmering. He felt a sudden rush of nerves, the kind that made his stomach feel like it was full of butterflies. 

You didn’t say anything right away, but you didn’t look away either. Jisung’s hand inched toward yours. Not all at once. Just slowly, cautiously, until your fingers were brushing.

You didn’t pull away.

So he turned on his side, just a little. Just enough.

And when he leaned in—not rushed, not scared, but with all the care in the world—you met him halfway.

The kiss was so soft it almost didn’t feel real. Just the faintest press of lips, so delicate. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t movie-perfect. But it felt like something permanent.

A promise.

When he pulled back, his heart was hammering, but his smile was easy.

“Hi,” he whispered.

You smiled too, cheeks warm. “Hey.”

Jisung looked back up at the sky, eyes finding Polaris again. He was exactly where he was supposed to be.

With you.

Sunlight crept in through the thin fabric of the tent. Jisung seemed to stir awake first, blinking against the light, trying to remember why his pillow felt oddly... alive. Then he realized it wasn’t a pillow.

It was you.

You were curled against him, back to his chest, hair a mess of sleep-tangled strands that smelled faintly like campfire smoke and something floral. His arm was thrown loosely over your waist, your hand still resting over his.

And suddenly, nothing else mattered.

He stayed there for a long time, just breathing you in, letting the peacefullness of nature wrap around you like another blanket. There was a bird chirping somewhere nearby. A squirrel making an absolute racket with acorns. But none of it disturbed the peace in his chest.

You shifted slightly, mumbling something half-asleep. “Mm… is it time?”

“Not yet,” Jisung murmured, his voice still scratchy from being tired. “You’ve got like... seven more minutes of snooze.”

You giggled, a sound that immediately made his heart squeeze. “Okay,” you whispered. “Just seven, though.”

Breakfast was... certainly a situation.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be smoking like that,” you said, squinting at the little camp stove as Jisung held a sad piece of toast with an extremely charred corner.

“It’s artisanally rustic,” he defended. “This is how the pioneers did it. With... you know... excessive burning.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did the pioneers also forget to bring butter?”

“That was a creative choice.”

You took the toast anyway and took a bite, eyes wide. “Okay wait. This is actually... kinda good?”

“I told you,” he said proudly, dramatically tossing the spatula aside like a warrior returning from battle. “Toastmaster Park strikes again.”

You looked at him, eyes crinkling with that same smile you’d given him last night, right before the kiss. And suddenly the air between you wasn’t just light, it was something more. Something that hummed underneath everything.

He kept catching himself watching you. The way your nose scrunched when you tried to fold the blanket back into its impossibly tiny stuff sack. The way you hummed a random tune while packing up the tent.

Everything felt a little surreal, like the entire world had quietly shifted on its axis overnight.

And it had.

The drive home was quiet, but not in a “we kinda just made out and basically slept together, wtf do we do…?” way. The silence wasn’t empty, but full of shared thoughts. Shared feelings.

You sat with one leg pulled up in the passenger seat, your head tilted toward the window, sunlight tracing your profile.

Jisung kept one hand on the wheel. The other, in yours.

You’d reached for it wordlessly as he started the engine. And he hadn’t let go since.

He glanced over at you every so often. You didn’t say anything. Just squeezed his hand a little. And that was enough. There were no big declarations of love. No pre-prepared speeches. Just this steady, quiet certainty.

You liked him. He liked you.

And now, everything was different.

But in the best possible way.

A YEAR LATER

The stars hadn’t changed.

Still scattered like glitter, still winking softly from across time and space. But everything else? Different. Grown. Softer in the best ways.

Same blanket, but now it smelled like your apartment, like laundry detergent and that perfume he loved but could never name. Who even comes up with perfume names anyways. They all sound so stupid. Same clearing, same forest path, same wide sky. But this time, you were already in his arms before you even sat down.

You curled against him like it was second nature, his hoodie swallowing half your face as you tugged the sleeves over your hands.

“Comfy?” he asked, looking down at you.

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Perfect.”

Jisung smiled and pulled out a small, slightly battered notebook from his backpack. You lifted your head at the sight of it, your eyes lighting up immediately.

“You brought it?”

“Of course I brought it.”

He flipped it open to a page covered in doodles and terrible constellation diagrams. At the top, in your messy handwriting: ‘Camp Tent Tragedy + Other Celestial Nonsense (ft. Park Jisung’s drawings)’

You both burst out laughing again. “I still think ‘Noodle Boy’ is still my favorite,” you said, pointing to a very suspiciously drawn star cluster.

“That’s technically a black hole, not ‘Noodle Boy’” Jisung replied. “But I support your vision.”

The night drifted on. You kissed under the stars like you’d done a hundred times since that first one — slow, warm, easy. Familiar in a way that made Jisung’s chest ache in the gentlest way.

And when you leaned your head against his shoulder, tracing a thumb absentmindedly over the back of his hand, he looked up at Polaris.

Still bright. Still steady.

Just like you.

He whispered, barely audible over the rustling trees. “Still my Polaris.”

BONUS:

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[ssweetreveries]

I kinda feel like Jisung would have a choking kink…we all know how big and veiny his hands are and he’d definitely love to see it around your neck 🫦

Not sure if this will inspire you to write a little drabble/scenario but just my thoughts heheheh

Jisung + choking kink

☆ jisung x reader

⋆ 18+ mdni!

⋆ word count! 711

⋆ request? ✓

oneshot, nonidol!jisung, afab!reader, bf!jisung, switch!jisung, switch!reader, unprotected sex, choking kink, breast play, use of pet names (baby), porn no plot… that’s it..

synopsis. finding out your boyfriend has a choking kink!!

likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!!

author note: tysm for requesting!! i absolutely love this and jisung’s hands 😩😩

i apologize if there is any mistakes, this isn't proof read and english isn't my first language. enjoy!! ><

You’re straddling his lap, bouncing up and down on his thick, lengthy cock. Jisung groans loudly, a few moans slipping past his lips. His grip on your hips is bruising, gripping you tightly as you use him for your pleasure—his own hips twitching and bucking slightly. He leans back in the couch, his head tilting as he lets out a low moan, “Fuck, baby…”

He looks up at you and thinks how lucky he was to get such a perfect little girlfriend like you. He watches your breast as you bounce on his cock, his hands coming to your sides, sliding up to cup them. His large hands cover your tits perfectly, squeezing them as he holds himself back—though he was slowly losing restraint.

He groans, leaning forwards to take one in his mouth—his tongue flicks out to play with your hard, perky nipples. He focuses on one with his mouth while he continues kneading the other with his hand, his thumb brushing over your sensitive bud.

He pulls back a bit, the last of his restraints breaking as his hips snap up to meet your bounces, his thick length hitting that delicious spot inside you. His hands move to pinch and twist your nipples as he roughly fucks up into you. “Fuck.. fuck, baby, so good..” he groans through pants.

You moan in response, legs slightly giving out as he takes the lead. His large hand slides up higher, coming to wrap around your throat, his thumb pressing gently against your pulse point. He looks up at you, trying to gauge your reaction—to see if you enjoy this as much as he does.

The way your pussy clenches around his length when he gives you a tentative squeeze tells him you do—and he tightens his grip around your throat. His cock throbs inside you as he feels himself nearing his peak from getting to see you like this. So trusting and submissive to him.

He starts thrusting into you harder, faster into you from below, maintaining that delicious pressure on your neck. “You like this, baby?” He says a bit breathlessly.

He tightens his grip, his large hand wrapping almost completely around your delicate neck, making you look so small compared to him—and it only serves to turn him on more.

You let out a choked moan, his thrusts mixed with the pressure making you see stars.

Jisung’s hips start thrusting into you with newfound strength, fucking into you with desperation. His face is contorted in pleasure as he lets out low moans of his own, mixing with yours—knowing that you’re both getting off on this.

He knows he wouldn’t last long, and he doesn’t want to finish without you. His free hand reaches down to rub your clit in rough circles, desperate to get you there with him. “You close baby? Fuck— Can’t hold back much longer—” he groans, his thrusts unrelenting.

“Mmh, yeah— Fuck! Right there, Ji—!” You choke out, moans coming out hoarse because of the restriction on your airways.

Feeling your pussy clench tightly around his cock, and knowing that you’re about to cum, he increases the pressure around your throat—His other hand leaving your clit to grip your hip tightly, hips snapping to yours with desperation.

“Fuck, I’m cumming..” His cock throbs inside you as he hits his peak, hot ropes of cum filling your insides.

His hand lets go of your neck but he doesn’t stop his pace, hips snapping to yours—overstimulating himself as he works to get you over the edge. His length continues hitting you deep inside as your own legs begin to shake, the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping.

You moan his name, back arching as you reach your peak—collapsing against his chest.

Jisung wastes no time wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he presses kisses to your shoulder—you feel his length twitch inside you, and the warmth of his release filling your walls.

“That was..” a small smile spreads on his lips as he holds you in his arms, panting heavily as you both catch your breath. He presses another kiss to your shoulder—holding you in comfortable silence as you both come down from your highs.

© ssweetreveries follow for more!

asks are always open for anything! ♡

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Synopsis: When talented producer Y/n (known professionally as the mysterious "Celeste") accepts a position at JYP Entertainment to help Stray Kids with their comeback, she expects to focus solely on creating music. What she doesn't expect is the immediate connection she feels with Han Jisung—the group's quick-witted, sensitive rapper and producer who's been following her career from afar.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Heartbreak

<<Previous Next>>

Masterlist

Chapter 2: Musical Chemistry

The morning sun streamed through the windows of the production studio as you settled into your chair, coffee in hand. This would be your first real day working with 3RACHA, and despite your years of experience, a flutter of anticipation danced in your stomach. You'd spent half the night reviewing their previous albums, making notes on their production style and sonic signatures

Your dorm was still mostly unpacked boxes—jet lag had kept you up until the early hours—but you'd managed to set up your essential equipment. A mini keyboard, your laptop, and a small notebook where you jotted production ideas in your distinct shorthand.

The studio door opened, and Chan walked in first, followed by Changbin and then Han, who seemed to hesitate slightly at the threshold when he saw you.

"Morning, Y/n," Chan greeted with a warm smile. "Hope you're settled in okay?"

"Getting there," you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "Still on LA time, but I'll adjust."

Changbin dropped into the chair next to you with casual confidence. "Welcome to the chaos," he said with a grin. "Fair warning—once we get going, we might forget basic human needs like food and sleep."

You laughed. "Sounds familiar. I've been known to lose track of time in the studio too."

"A woman after our own hearts," Chan said, booting up the main computer. "So, I thought we could start by sharing some ideas for the overall sound direction of this comeback."

You nodded, pulling up your notes. "I've been thinking about that. Your last album had a very distinct electronic edge, but I wondered if you'd considered incorporating more organic elements this time? Maybe some live instruments layered with your signature beats?"

Chan's eyes lit up. "That's exactly what I was thinking. I've been experimenting with some guitar samples—"

"—combined with those deep 808s you use in your bridge sections," you finished, excitement building. "It would create this beautiful tension between natural and synthetic."

The three men stared at you for a moment, and you wondered if you'd overstepped somehow.

"That's..." Chan started.

"...exactly what we wrote in our concept proposal," Changbin finished, looking impressed.

You felt a flush of pleasure at hitting the mark. "Great minds, I guess."

"I had this idea," Han said suddenly, speaking directly to you for the first time, his initial shyness seeming to evaporate as he leaned forward in his chair. "What if we use those organic elements, but process them until they're almost unrecognizable, then gradually reveal their natural form throughout the song? Like a transformation narrative within the production itself?"

Your eyes widened. "That's brilliant, Han. It would mirror the lyrical themes of revelation and authenticity that run through a lot of your work."

Han's face lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight. "You noticed that theme in our lyrics?"

"Of course," you said, scrunching your nose slightly as you concentrated on articulating your thoughts. "Your writing has this fascinating duality—confidence and vulnerability existing in the same space. I thought it could be interesting to echo that in the production."

---

Han felt a surge of warmth spread through his chest. You had actually analyzed his lyrics, understood the themes he wove through his writing. More than that, you were suggesting a production approach that would complement and enhance those themes.

"Let me show you something," he said, overcome with a sudden boldness that surprised even himself. He moved to the keyboard, fingers hovering over the keys for a moment before playing a haunting progression—minor chords that gradually opened into something more hopeful.

"I've been playing with this for the title track. It's not finished, but—"

"—it needs a counter melody that creates tension," you said, sliding your chair next to his.

Han nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! I was thinking something that rises while the bass line descends."

Without hesitation, you reached over and played a simple but effective melody that wove perfectly through his chord progression, your hands briefly sharing the keyboard with his, careful not to touch but moving in a synchronized dance.

The small studio seemed to fade away as the music filled the space. Han added a variation, you responded with an adjustment, and within minutes, they had the skeleton of something that made Chan and Changbin exchange meaningful glances.

"Well," Changbin said, breaking the spell with an amused smile, "I guess we can go home. Seems like you two have got this covered."

Chan laughed. "I've never seen Han click with someone musically this fast. It usually takes him weeks to let someone else touch his compositions."

Han felt his ears grow hot. "It's just—she understood where I was going with it."

"He's right," you said, and Han felt a ridiculous amount of gratitude for your support. "It's a beautiful progression, Han. I just heard what it was asking for."

"Music soulmates," Changbin declared with dramatic emphasis, making heart shapes with his hands. "You find someone who finishes your musical sentences, you never let them go."

"Shut up," Han muttered, but there was no real annoyance behind it. The truth was, he'd never experienced this level of immediate creative chemistry with anyone outside of 3RACHA, and even that had taken time to develop.

"Let's record what you just did before we lose it," Chan suggested, always the practical producer.

As they set up the microphones and prepared to capture the impromptu composition, Han kept stealing glances at you. You moved around the studio with confident familiarity, adjusting settings and suggesting microphone placements as if you'd been working with them for years instead of hours.

Han tried to focus on the music, but he couldn't help noticing the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were thinking, or how you hummed softly under your breath when listening to playback. Small details that shouldn't matter but somehow made his heart beat faster.

"Earth to Han," Changbin's voice broke through his thoughts. "We're ready to record. Unless you'd rather keep staring..."

Han shot Changbin a warning look, grateful that you were absorbed in adjusting a microphone and hadn't heard. He needed to get it together. This was professional. The connection he felt was musical, nothing more.

But as the day progressed and they built on that initial spark, crafting what might be the foundation of their title track, Han couldn't deny the truth to himself: there was something about you that resonated with him on a level beyond music.

---

By late afternoon, the studio was littered with empty coffee cups and the digital workstation was filled with promising audio tracks. You stretched your arms above your head, finally registering the stiffness in your shoulders from hours of intense focus.

"I think we've earned a break," Chan declared, checking the time. "The others should be done with dance practice. Why don't we grab dinner with them?"

You nodded eagerly, suddenly aware of your empty stomach. "That sounds perfect. I could use some real food. I've been living on airplane snacks and hotel breakfast."

"Can't have our new producer starving on her second day," Changbin said, saving the day's work with practiced efficiency. "There's a great Korean barbecue place nearby. Have you had much Korean food?"

"Some," you replied, gathering your things. "But I'm always up for recommendations."

As you all left the studio, you found yourself walking beside Han, who seemed more relaxed than he had been yesterday, though still not entirely at ease.

"The chord progression you came up with," you said, breaking the comfortable silence between you. "It reminded me of something Debussy might write, if he were making hip-hop beats."

Han's eyes widened. "That's exactly what I was going for! I've been studying classical impressionism and thinking about how to incorporate those emotional textures into our sound."

"It's effective," you said sincerely. "Creates this dreamy quality while still maintaining the edge your tracks are known for."

Han's smile was like sunrise—slow to appear but bright enough to light up his entire face when it did. "Thanks. That means a lot coming from you."

Before you could respond, a loud voice called out from down the hall.

"There they are! Our production team!"

You looked up to see Felix bounding toward you, followed by the rest of the members fresh from dance practice, their hair still damp from showers.

"Y/n!" Felix exclaimed, as if he hadn't seen you in weeks rather than a day. "How was your first day? Did Han behave himself?"

You laughed as Han groaned beside you. "He was very professional," you assured Felix. "We all were. Got some good work done, actually."

"She's being modest," Chan said. "They've practically written our title track already. You should have seen them—like they've been collaborating for years."

"Music soulmates," Changbin repeated his earlier assessment with a knowing smirk.

You felt a flush creeping up your neck at the term, noticing Han's similar reaction from the corner of your eye.

"We just have compatible approaches to production," you clarified, though you couldn't deny the unusual ease you'd felt working with Han.

"Well, I want to hear it," I.N. said eagerly. "Is it going to make me cry? I like songs that make me emotional."

"Maybe," Han answered, seeming to relax again when the conversation shifted to the music itself. "We're going for something that evolves throughout, revealing layers gradually."

"Like peeling an onion," you added.

"Exactly!" Han agreed, eyes lighting up at your understanding. "But with less crying. Unless I.N. listens to it, apparently."

Everyone laughed, and you felt a pleasant warmth at how easily Han had picked up your metaphor and extended it into a joke. There was a natural rhythm to your interactions that usually took months to develop with a new collaborator.

"We're getting dinner at Min's," Chan announced to the group. "Y/n needs proper Korean food."

"Yes!" Felix pumped his fist. "Their army stew is amazing. You'll love it."

"And after dinner," Hyunjin said, sliding up beside you with a charming smile, "maybe we can show you around the neighborhood a bit? There's a nice walk along the river."

"That would be—" you started, but were interrupted by Felix.

"Don't forget we have baking plans," he reminded you. "I bought those special chocolate chips I was telling you about."

"Baking?" Seungmin perked up. "Can I join? I've been wanting to learn."

"The more the merrier," you said with a smile, touched by how quickly they were including you in their activities.

As the group moved toward the exit, chatting excitedly about dinner plans, you noticed Han hanging back slightly, watching the interactions with a small smile.

"You coming?" you asked him.

He nodded, falling into step beside you. "Just thinking about how much the guys already like you," he said quietly. "Usually takes them longer to warm up to new people."

"I'm glad," you replied sincerely. "I was worried about being the outsider."

"You're not," Han said with surprising certainty. "You fit. With us, I mean. With the music."

The simple statement warmed you more than it should have. "Thanks, Han. That means a lot."

---

The Korean barbecue restaurant was lively and warm, filled with the sizzle of grilling meat and animated conversation. Han sat across from you at the large table, sandwiched between Lee Know and Changbin, while you were flanked by Felix and I.N., who had claimed seats beside you with impressive speed.

Han tried not to stare as Felix showed you how to wrap your meat in lettuce leaves with various accompaniments, but he couldn't help noticing how naturally you fit into their dynamic. You laughed at I.N.'s jokes, listened attentively to Seungmin's explanation of different banchan dishes, and even matched Hyunjin's flirtatious banter with good-natured comebacks.

"So," Lee Know said beside him, voice low enough that only Han could hear, "productive day in the studio?"

"Yeah," Han replied, taking a sip of his water. "We got a lot done."

"Mmm," Lee Know hummed knowingly. "And how many times did you trip over your words?"

"I didn't," Han protested, keeping his voice down. "It's different when we're working on music. I forget to be nervous."

Lee Know's eyebrows shot up. "So you admit you're nervous around her otherwise?"

Han cursed his slip. "That's not—I just meant—"

"You're cute when you're flustered," Lee Know teased, grinning. "But seriously, you seemed to click with her musically. Even Chan noticed."

Han nodded, unable to deny it. "It's weird. She just... gets what I'm trying to do before I even explain it fully."

"That's rare," Lee Know acknowledged, his teasing tone giving way to sincerity. "Don't waste it worrying about whether your ears turn red when she looks at you."

Before Han could respond, your voice carried across the table.

"Han," you called, "Felix doesn't believe me that the beat switch in 'Zone' was inspired by classical sonata form. Back me up?"

Han blinked in surprise. "You caught that? Most people don't make the connection."

You smiled, looking pleased. "The way you introduced the new theme but maintained elements of the original motif—textbook development section."

"Exactly!" Han felt a rush of excitement. "I was listening to a lot of Beethoven that month. The way he transitions between ideas influenced how I structured that beat change."

"I knew it," you said triumphantly, nudging Felix. "Told you."

Felix raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, you music nerds win. I just thought it sounded cool."

"It did sound cool," you agreed. "Because it was drawing on centuries of musical development while still being completely fresh."

The conversation moved on, but Han remained distracted by the exchange. Not only had you recognized one of his more subtle production choices, but you'd understood the classical influence behind it—something even some music critics had missed.

"You're staring again," Changbin muttered from his other side.

"No I'm not," Han denied automatically, looking down at his food.

"You should see your face when she talks about music," Changbin continued, clearly enjoying Han's discomfort. "Like she's revealing the secrets of the universe."

"I respect her musical knowledge," Han said stiffly.

"Uh-huh," Changbin said skeptically. "And I only 'respect' spicy ramen. That's why I have ten packages of it hidden in my room."

Han chose to ignore the implication, focusing intently on grilling the meat in front of him. But he couldn't help glancing up when he heard your laugh ring out in response to something I.N. had said.

"You know," Changbin said, his voice softer now, more sincere, "it's okay to like her. Just be careful, yeah? For both your sakes."

Han nodded, grateful for his friend's understanding. "I know. The contract, the comeback... it's complicated."

"When isn't it?" Changbin replied with a philosophical shrug. "Just don't let it affect the music. What you two started creating today was special."

Han knew Changbin was right. Whatever his confused feelings for you might be, the music had to come first. It was what brought you into their lives in the first place, and it was what would remain when you eventually returned to LA after your six months were up.

The thought of your inevitable departure sent an unexpected pang through his chest, which he quickly buried. It was ridiculous to feel sad about something that was still months away, especially considering he'd only known you for two days.

But as dinner continued and he watched you integrate seamlessly into the group dynamics—teasing Hyunjin, discussing vinyl collections with Seungmin, making baking plans with Felix and I.N.—Han couldn't shake the feeling that your presence was already changing something fundamental in their carefully balanced world.

And he wasn't entirely sure he would be able to go back to the way things were before you arrived.

---

After dinner, true to Felix's reminder, you found yourself in the dorm kitchen with Felix, I.N., and somewhat surprisingly, Han, who had quietly asked if he could join when you were all leaving the restaurant.

"I thought you didn't bake," you teased as he washed his hands at the sink.

Han shrugged, a shy smile playing at his lips. "I don't. But I'm an excellent taste-tester. Someone needs to make sure the cookies are edible."

"He just wants to lick the bowl," Felix stage-whispered to you, earning a light shove from Han.

"Don't expose me like that," Han protested with a laugh.

The kitchen was compact but well-equipped, and soon all four of you had fallen into an easy rhythm. Felix measured ingredients with surprising precision, I.N. enthusiastically mixed the dough, you added your special touches to the recipe, and Han... well, Han mostly watched, occasionally handing someone a utensil or ingredient, but mostly observing the process with fascination.

"You're really good at this," Han said softly beside you as you demonstrated the proper way to fold chocolate chips into the dough without overmixing.

"Years of practice," you replied, scrunching your nose slightly as you concentrated. "My mom taught me. We used to bake together every Sunday."

"That sounds nice," Han said, and there was a wistfulness in his tone that made you glance up at him.

"Didn't bake with your family?"

He shook his head. "Not really. My mom cooked, but baking wasn't big in our house. This is all new to me."

"Well, you're never too old to learn," you said, impulsively offering him the spatula. "Want to try?"

Han looked momentarily panicked but took the spatula from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. "I'll probably mess it up."

"You won't," you assured him. "It's just like producing—you need to feel the right balance. Too much mixing and the cookies get tough; too little and the ingredients aren't incorporated properly."

Han nodded seriously, approaching the task with the same concentration he'd shown in the studio earlier. His movements were tentative at first, but quickly became more confident as he got a feel for the dough.

"Like this?" he asked, looking to you for approval.

"Perfect," you confirmed, unable to help smiling at his earnest effort. "You're a natural."

A pleased flush spread across his cheeks at your praise. 

Felix, who had been watching this exchange with poorly concealed interest, suddenly announced, "I forgot the vanilla extract in my room. I'll be right back."

"I'll help you look!" I.N. volunteered immediately, following Felix with suspicious eagerness.

Before you could point out that vanilla extract was unlikely to be in Felix's bedroom, they had both disappeared, leaving you alone with Han in the kitchen.

"That was subtle," Han muttered, still focused on the cookie dough as if his life depended on it.

You laughed. "About as subtle as Hyunjin's flirting."

Han's movements faltered slightly at the mention of Hyunjin. "He's always like that. With everyone, I mean."

"I figured," you said, leaning against the counter. "It's harmless. Kind of flattering, actually."

Han made a noncommittal sound, and you wondered if you'd said something wrong. But before you could question it, he spoke again.

"Today in the studio," he began, still not looking up from the bowl, "that was... I don't usually connect with someone musically like that. So quickly, I mean."

"Me neither," you admitted. "It usually takes weeks of working together to develop that kind of shorthand."

Han finally looked up, his expression earnest. "I know you're only here for the comeback, but I'm really glad you're working with us. With me. Your input already made that progression so much better."

The sincerity in his voice touched something in you. "I'm glad too. Sometimes collaborations look good on paper but don't work in practice. This feels... right."

A small smile played at his lips. "Music soulmates," he echoed Changbin's earlier assessment, though his tone made it a question rather than a statement.

"Maybe," you replied with a matching smile. "At least for the next six months."

Something flickered in his eyes at the mention of your temporary status, but it was gone before you could identify it.

"The dough looks perfect," you said, changing the subject. "Ready to make them into cookies?"

Han nodded, seeming relieved by the shift to practical matters. "Show me how?"

You demonstrated how to scoop the dough into even portions, and soon you were working side by side, your hands occasionally brushing as you prepared the cookies for baking. There was a comfortable silence between you now, the initial awkwardness from yesterday replaced by the easy companionship that comes from shared creativity.

When Felix and I.N. finally returned—with vanilla extract that had miraculously been in the kitchen cupboard all along—they found you and Han laughing together as you tried to get a stubborn bit of dough off your finger.

"Looks like we missed the fun part," Felix observed, his deep voice tinged with satisfaction.

"Just in time for the best part," you countered. "The cookies are ready for the oven."

As I.N. eagerly helped you slide the trays into the oven, you caught Han watching you with a soft expression that made your heart skip in a way it probably shouldn't. When he realized you'd noticed, he quickly looked away, busying himself with cleaning up the counter.

But the moment lingered in your mind, a sweet counterpoint to the scent of chocolate chip cookies beginning to fill the kitchen.

Six months was both a long time and not nearly long enough. And you were beginning to suspect that when it was over, leaving wouldn't be as simple as boarding a plane back to LA.

Not when something was beginning to take root that had nothing to do with music and everything to do with the shy producer who couldn't quite meet your eyes but somehow understood your musical language as if he'd been speaking it all his life.

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[jsbluu]

left on seen | chapter 35: hallway couple

➨ chapter 34: y/nsung official date | left on seen masterlist | next 

➨ oh my gyatt this chapter short as hell but anyway 35 OMG.. what do we think is gonna happen next guys

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