Lali's Lair

I just want to receive love.

Ask any survival show contestant why they want to become an idol, and that’s the bullshit they’ll feed you with a wholesome smile, which is the politically correct way of saying, “I want to be worshipped.” No one even judges them for it because new gods on the block will always be in demand.

Fresh meat and whatnot, you know.

The only catch is you’re no longer allowed to worship anyone if you have worshippers yourself. Have you ever seen a god who simps for her own devotees?

Please.

If you “make it”, there is only one law you have to abide by—stick to your meticulously crafted persona and be generous with fanservice, and almost a decade into his career, Hyunjin hasn’t had a problem with it. He does study the faces of his “regulars” before he goes into fancalls. He does flirt a little extra with them at fansigns, holding their hands a little longer, a little tighter, less tsun more dere, even sharing little intimate details of his private life only they are privy to.

Well, allegedly.

That’s the least he can do for his off-the-books sugar mamas, no? He is a part of a grand romance scam after all.

It doesn’t mean he’s never struggled with keeping up the act, of course. With all the things he has to suppress, all the things he cannot scream at certain entitled brats’ faces, some days he does come very very close to snapping. What’d you expect? He is trapped in a life he hates doing something he loves.

Which is why it’s Stockholm as fuck that he’s found distraction from his delulu dealer duties by completely leaning into it.

It’s not even guilty, just pure pleasure for him to browse through fan work. As if he needs any more reasons to inflate his behemoth of an ego… Over time, his fandom has become a point of pride with him—so much talent scratching his Stendhal itch just right. The origin point doesn’t matter; the end result is still solid fucking art. It’s like he’s the Beatrice to a thousand Dantes.

Maybe “Like artist, like fan” does have some merit to it.

The literature department of his counterfeit Renaissance cult is where things get a little more unhinged. Some of these people write him so vividly, so intensely sexy that if Hyunjin could fuck himself, he would. It’s kinda disappointing that there is a strict hush-hush rule about fan spaces, which forces him to pretend he doesn’t know what a Kinktober is. Otherwise, he would have loved to send some flowers, signed merch, fucking fan club membership as a thank you for all the nuts busted. When the average market value for life-changing orgasms is in three to four digits, a cup of coffee seems criminally low.

Is it still sex work if someone makes you cum without touching you at all?

Among the sea of creators he religiously follows, of course he has favorites, and whoever goes by zipcode10320 tops that chart. He finds the hardcore shipping fucking hilarious, but he actually respects the preferred method of worship. The thirst might be heavy, but unlike the bitches practically living outside his apartment, it’s at least from a non-suffocating distance.

From a... distance...

anonymous asked: what if hyunjin is deadass reading you lol

A decade-long career with a fake boyfriend side hustle. Five restraining orders. Three court appearances. Endless blacklists…

Hyunjin lived to see the day where it’s the distance that suffocates him.

He never thought one day he’d find himself on the other side of the fence like this. It’s on the tip of his tongue, but he just can’t tell what it is about this person he’s so hung up on. He has a battalion of authors writing about him, so what’s so special about this one? Is it a style thing? Is it the subject matter? Why is he looking forward to the next character he’ll play like it’s the next season of his favorite show? Why is he getting this ticklish feeling for no reason whenever he scrolls through a new drop in his bed? It’s as if the words are laced with something because he only feels it when he reads.

But what the fuck IS IT that he’s feeling?!

zipcode10320 replied: im pretty sure he has a life 🤣 on the super off chance that he does tho, hi bby save me from my misery and swipe my v-card plz 💋

Huh…

Well, now he knows.

So it wasn’t for no reason that he turned into a shark—there was blood in the water, and it reeked of the proverbial innocence. So all that lustful longing you keep writing… All that unhinged sex you keep depicting…

Is that…? How you want to be…? By him?

It’s too late when he realizes his fascination with the “art” has turned into something else entirely, but he can’t stop it. He just can’t! It’s in his every waking thought that someone out there loves him just a few drops shy of unconditionally, wanting him with lust so carnal that the desire can no longer stay inside its shell. It jumps into a getaway car with words for engine and fucks right off, all gas no brakes, because it has to get to him as fast as it can. It has to exist in the same corporeal realm as Hyunjin so it can call out to him. It’s in his every waking thought that a god out there compulsively conjures little Hyuniverses, unable to contain the fond smile whenever they doodle his name on a surface, be it cellulose or binary codes.

Hyunjin as a psycho.

Hyunjin as a prince.

Hyunjin as a psycho prince.

Hyunjin as the meaning of life.

Hyunjin as the meaning of MY life.

Hyunjin.

Hyunjin.

HYUNJIN!!!

anonymous asked: if he asks you to give your virginity to him ur ACTUALLY gonna say yes? zipcode10320 replied: who tf says no to hwang hyunjin fucking BET!!! anonymous asked: what if he’s a freak tho zipcode10320 replied: if the freak is me getting sandwiched between hyunchan i volunteer as tribute thank 😌 anonymous asked: what if IM hyunjin and ur just giving me ideas lol zipcode10320 replied: even IM not that delulu bro cmon

Well, maybe you should get on his delulu level because there is some freak that needs to be matched here. It’s okay if you can’t right from the get-go; he has all the time in the world for you. He can show you everything. How to match it. How to get him there. How he will get you there. Everything. Everything you can imagine, he will teach you with utmost care.

But he needs to complete a little self-assigned mission first.

He starts bringing his notebook to every single fan event to take notes of his interactions. Mannerisms, tone of voice, clothes worn that day, some word that sticks out to him… Whenever someone asks what he’s writing so fervently, his go-to excuse is, “Things that inspire me before I forget”. He does show a few actual snippets to cover his tracks, and luckily, all he gets in response is dreamy sighs and, “Oh my god, you’re like sooo romantic!” instead of suspicious looks.

It’s called a “bias” for a reason.

It doesn’t matter if your face doesn’t show in your posts. He has all your notifications on, so every fancall or concert video you share, every photo captioned with “They don’t know I’m zipcode10320” goes straight to his “data” folder where he compares his “field notes”. It doesn’t take too long for him to finally put a face to the name, and the satisfaction of victory weirdly feels like afterglow. He doesn’t smoke, but he craves a cigarette all of a sudden.

His fascination with you mutates into infatuation so fast, he might just blurt out a marriage proposal next time he sees you.

He keeps waiting for you to pick up what he’s putting down, but you seem a bit too insistent with that godforsaken “respect to his personal space” thing. What personal space? There is no personal space when it comes to the two of you; don’t you get it? You need to occupy the exact same space so he can be where he’s meant to be. As your very first. As your very last. So he can be your muse for the rest of your life. Can you even imagine the stories he’ll inspire you to tell if you spend just one night with him?

Don’t get it twisted, that’s just a figure of speech. He can’t and won’t settle for anything less than a couple of hundred nights with you. You know, to teach. So that the freak can match perfectly in the finale.

Unfortunately for him, the news of the iceberg arrives before he can finish packing for the maiden voyage, and for the first time ever, Hyunjin wishes he was blind so he wouldn’t be able to read your words.

zipcode10320 guys im this 🤏 close to ulting the shit out of chris hes been wrecking me left and right this comeback SEND HALP

Oh, you just… Oh, you fucking did not…

Really? That’s the extent of your loyalty? One whore goes Magic Mike, and all of a sudden you’re wrecked? Did the memories you shared mean jack shit to you? Weren’t you the one going on and on about him being your muse just YESTERDAY?!

Oh, you’re gonna get wrecked alright.

“Jiwon, do you have an NDA copy on hand?” Hyunjin addresses the driver in the front seat, his eyes still glued to his phone.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he opens his contacts and dials a number. “Turn the car around.”

“Where to, sir?”

“I’ll tell you in a bit.”

The car completes the U-turn after the third ringback tone, and a trollmeister voice answers the call on the other end.

“Yo, Hyunzales.”

“Where are you?”

“Fucking your girl in the backseat of my car.”

“I know you’re ragebaiting, but do you want to?”

The elongated silence on the line lets Hyunjin know that the hunter was successfully hunted. He softly chuckles to himself, amused by his triumph.

“Pussy got your tongue, motherfucker?”

“You’d actually give the fic girl to me?” Chris asks for good measure, his rabid giddiness spilling all over his voice.

“Calm the fuck down. No one said anything about giving you stuff,” Hyunjin sternly corrects. “I’m just inviting you to come play.”

“You’re the pettiest, most possessive man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing, and that includes the GOAT Joe Goldberg,” Chris starts a mini interrogation to do his due diligence. “If there is a chance for you to hit that yourself, how come you’re inviting me?”

“You fucking know why. I don’t trust myself,” he admits. “It’s not a random hookup. Bin’s hosting an opening ceremony tonight, and I want her there.”

“No fucking way…”

“Deadest of asses,” Hyunjin finally releases the death grip on his lips and lets them curl. “Meet me at his place if you’re interested. Otherwise, I’ll risk it all and go solo.”

“Race you there, fuckface.”

When the call disconnects, Hyunjin takes a deep breath to calm… his nerves? And well, his residual annoyance—he can’t be in that kinda headspace right now. He closes his eyes, and just the thought of your surprise is enough to put him in a good mood. He pulls up your profile again and presses play on the video from the concert two months ago, fondly smiling as he listens to you scream at the top of your lungs, “I’LL SIGN THE NDA, HYUNJIN, JUST ONE CHANCE!!!”

“Well, you said it yourself, beautiful,” he turns to his right, watching the nightlights pass by the tinted window. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

You blankly look at the man’s face for a solid ten seconds, unsure if you’ve heard it right, because there ain’t no way…

“Just to triple confirm,” you briefly squeeze your eyes close. “We’re talking about the performer Hwang Hyunjin, right?”

“Yes.”

“The art harlot Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Yes.”

“The Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Just assume every adjective you can think of is true, but if we could get to the matter at hand, please,” the man sighs, rapidly losing patience. “Mr. Hwang strongly wishes for your companionship tonight.”

cOmPaNiOnSh— What?

How would the man, the myth, the legend himself, the only baby daddy you’d be willing to accept, Hwang motherfucking Hyunjin even know you? This has to be a hidden camera prank or something!

As you suspiciously look the man up and down, however, you’re struggling to hold onto your prank theory. The weirdly familiar butler-henchman hybrid guy is clad in a crisp Dior suit, his nails are perfectly manicured, and his hair is so neatly coiffed that bro can walk a runway if he wants. Now you’re trying to logically explain why someone would send a man like this to locate you at this hour. Maybe if they are bored enough? But what entertainment can possibly come out of interrupting a plain mortal’s cocktail hour with their friends?

WHY would a Diorland resident want to locate YOU in the first place? There is literally NO possibility of your paths ever crossing!

“Wait, you’re in every single fansite picture when Hyunjin attends a public event,” Mina points at him, her face contorting with her revelation. “You’re Kim Jiwon, aren’t you?”

“I am,” the man acknowledges.

“How do you even know this guy?” you turn to Mina.

“Girl, even you know him,” she answers with a content smile. “He’s Hyunjin’s bodyguard.”

As you let out a long “Ohhh…”, it finally clicks in your mind why he seems so familiar. He pulls something out from the inside pocket of his blazer and clicks a silver pen.

“I’ve been told this was your own request,” he hands you an envelope containing a single sheet of paper. “You need to sign it before I can take you to him.”

There ain’t NO WAY…

You can see the words, but your brain refuses to process them. That’s it; you’ve been fangirling so hard that it has finally given you permanent brain damage, and now you’re hallucinating worse than ai. At least, that was how you were planning to plead insanity.

But the “OH MY GOD!”s raising from the table confirm that your friends can also see the title reads “Non-Disclosure Agreement”.

“Please don’t. This document contains sensitive information,” he snatches the paper from the prying eyes before they can commit it to memory, and points at the bottom. “If you won’t be signing it, please let me know right now, so I can relay it to Mr. Hwang. This is a time-sensitive issue.”

“T–Time-sensitive?!” you widen your eyes. “Can’t I at least tell my friends where I’m going so they know I’m safe?”

“No, you can’t, but I’m obligated to ensure your protection just as much as Mr. Hwang’s,” he indirectly informs the table. “This isn’t a job offer, so there is nothing to contemplate here. It’s just a promise that you will be discreet about the time you will be spending in Mr. Hwang’s company. Yes or no.”

Yet another “OH MY GOD!” erupts from the table, and by then, Jiwon is at his limit. Before he rescinds the invitation altogether, you lunge at the document telling you to shut the fuck up and sign it. You don’t have one logical answer as to how the Hwang Hyunjin knows you, or why he, quote, “strongly wishes for your companionship”. But the three Cosmopolitans in your bloodstream convince you that making shady deals in the middle of a restaurant is a great idea. And that you will regret it if you don’t go all in tonight.

Whatevs, if anything goes off the rails, you’ll just scream bloody murder, and his career will be over before he can spell “handwritten apology”.

“If I don’t send a thumbs up within 15 minutes, call the police,” you quietly scheme with Mina as you take your sweet time gathering your belongings. “If I do send a thumbs up, call a mortician because his sheer hotness will fucking kill me.”

You follow Jiwon to the valet area, barely registering that he’s just opened the door to a Rolls-Royce Phantom for you. It’s a true test of willpower not to yell “SHUT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK UP!” as you get into the disgustingly smug flex all over Hyunjin’s socials. So it’s true. It’s actually true. You are being taken to the only man ever. For whatever fucking reason…

WHO CARES?!

You make it to the mystery venue in just under five minutes. As he accompanies you to the elevator, Jiwon hands you what looks like a gold-plated card, instructing you to just swipe it to reach your intended destination. So you do. With a thousand butterflies in your stomach, and still only half-believing that you’re about to appear before His Majesty.

Once you get out of that cabin, you can only see one large door at the end of the hallway. A light breeze of music leaks into the carpet-clad corridor. The distance you need to walk suddenly seems like miles long, and the entire time, you keep repeating to yourself, “What am I doing? What am I doing? What the ACTUAL FUCK am I doing?!”, which is entirely pointless considering you’ve already made it this far. Might as well see what’s behind door number two.

Well, door number 4001, to be exact.

Standing in front of the heavy-looking oak, you take the deepest breath of your life and ring the doorbell, your group chat still open in your hand just in case. After a ten-second silence, it finally opens.

Your knees damn near give way when you make eye contact with your greeter.

“Hey, beautiful,” the only man ever leans against the door frame with that sultry smile you know too well. “Remember me?”

You quickly send a thumbs-up emoji to the group chat and shove the phone inside your bag, having no idea what to do with yourself. It’s him. The man who stuns you when he just breathes, the man who has sheer grace and absolute harlotry running in his veins instead of blood is right there smiling at you. It’s REALLY him!

It is really him, but something is not.

Every memory you have of him suddenly flashes before your eyes. Every “private” moment you were lucky enough to share, the handholding, the small talks about his personal work, the eggplant lasagna jokes… All were so soft, so comfortable, and it was like that by design. Even though he knew your name, you were fully aware that this man was at work. That “See? I remember intimate details about you because you’ve made a mark on me” shtick was the first line of his job description. These guys were probably handed a study pack full of attendee information before those events anyway.

But right this moment, not even a shred of the sentimental soft boi is present in his demeanor. Eyes darkened, pupils dilated, posture relaxed, cunningly smirking. The man standing at door number 4001 isn’t Hwang Hyunjin.

It’s the fucking DEVIL!

“Uh… I feel like I need to make sure, just in case,” you shake your head to snap out of it. “You are aware I’m not an escort, right?”

“Why would you even say that?” he furrows his brows.

“I signed a document that says you want my companionship for an opening ceremony tonight?”

He’s so amused, he starts laughing, and you die a little bit. That part is at least the same. When he laughs, your heart still goes into overdrive.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he answers.

“How do you… even know me?” you hesitantly ask, making sure your tone wouldn’t make him think you’re displeased by the invitation. “I couldn’t come up with one reason why you of all people would look for me.”

But the way his face falls, he must be offended. You panic, trying to find ways to explain yourself and what you really meant by that. That he is a god walking among mortals, that you’re one of the aforementioned mortals, and that it just doesn’t make any sense why he wouldn’t summon a fellow goddess instead.

“See, I’m a glass-half-full kind of man,” he speaks through a sigh as he slowly approaches, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Some might say your zip code starts with 103. I say it ends with 320.”

No.

No, there ain’t NO MOTHERFUCKING WAY…

How is that even POSSIBLE?! How many degrees of separation have you been from Hyunjin all this time? Does one of your followers just HAPPEN to know him somehow? Then what, did they just show him the fucking embarrassing amounts of delusion? Did he at least get a good laugh out of it?

Seems a bit too late to deactivate now…

“Well, you asked for it yourself, didn’t you?” he chortles, lifting your chin. “You signed the NDA. Now’s your one chance.”

How are you still not passing out?

Fuck the how, he knows. He knows about it all, and you have never been this mortified about something in your damn LIFE! Your shame brute-forces its way into the main control room of your brain and disables all your cognitive functions.

You can’t think of ONE thing to say to him!

“Unless… You’d rather it was someone else instead,” he cocks a brow at your silence. “Someone who’s been wrecking you recently?”

“I… I–I’m… I don’t…”

The door he left ajar behind him opens again, and another familiar face peeks out, flashing you a pair of heart-stopping dimples.

“Fucking hot,” Chris bites his lips, resting his chin on Hyunjin’s shoulder while staring at you. “Lucked out with this one, huh, Hyun?”

WHAT THE HELL IS EVEN GOING ON RIGHT NOW?

Where did he come from all of a sudden? What does it all mean? And why is this whole thing starting to feel like a fujoshi trap?!

“It’s just a party,” Hyunjin reassuringly smiles, caressing your cheek as if to calm you down. “We’ll hang out, talk, have a couple of drinks, that kinda thing.”

He holds your hand and presses his lips on your wrist for at least a solid five seconds, deeply inhaling your scent, then looks at you with dreamy eyes.

“But if the fancy strikes,” he steps aside, gently pushing you from your waist to lead you in, “we can always party a little harder.”

Incredulous that you are actually flanked by your very own OTP, you walk into the gigantic suite where the chatter of the crowd melts into the music. You recognize a lot of these faces because it’s crawling with idols inside, but the sight is the furthest thing from variety show cutesiness. Their claim holds up. It is a party.

They just forgot to tell you what kind.

The front end is “frat”. Two fandoms are amidst a vicious fanwar online, yet their “oppas” are heavily broing it out, all clearly intoxicated, laughing their asses off as two of the bunch are trying to do body shots off of each other.

Whereas the back end is “swinger”. Socials are filled with snark about who paved the way, yet the younger artists are busy teaching their seniors how to eat their pussies properly. No one cares that they are in the presence of a crowd—they are going at it.

“How’d you like the cesspit black hole of bubblegum pop?” Chris asks, plopping down next to you on the giant sectional by the window, and hands you a glass of vodka on the rocks. “Not giving ‘ending fairy’ at all, yeah?”

“You don’t say,” you raise your brows. “Feels like I passed through an underworld portal just now.”

“So…” Hyunjin flings an arm around your shoulder, comfortably spreading his legs. “You’re a shipper.”

Your drink almost comes out of your nose with panic-slash-fluster. THAT’S how he chooses to bring it up?!

“It’s just entertainment,” you play it cool, trying to choose your words carefully. “I don’t actually believe you are in a relationship.”

“Even when we live together?”

“That’s not proof of anything.”

“Even when we shower together?” Chris presses. “Stuck in hotel rooms together for months on tour…”

“Everybody knows that’s a convenience thing when you’re strapped for time,” you refute.

“But what if Hyunchan is real, and we’re laughing our asses off hiding in plain sight?” he looks you up and down, annoyingly smirking. “Post a picture of me giving him head right now, and haters will still say it’s fanservice.”

“Didn’t you see the pepero thing?” Hyunjin chimes in. “He’s the only one I almost made out with, and our parents were in the audience, mind you.”

Before you catch on goddamn fire, you have to force quit the fangirling and put your rational thinking into overdrive QUICK! What are they even after, having a weird ship conversation about themselves out of nowhere? It’s almost like they are trying to convince you it’s real, but even if they do, what’s going to possibly come out o—

Oh.

Oh, okay.

Okay, so it’s just a random jackpot thing. They saw your stuff, picked you as a target, and this is how they’re “getting even” by humiliating you to your face. Ha ha, very funny…

“Alright, message received,” you sigh in defeat, your mood suddenly bitter. “Do you want me to apologize in writing, or—?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not mad about that at all,” Hyunjin quickly interjects. “I canceled a porn subscription because of you. I goon to your stuff a lot.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP NO YOU FUCKING DO NOT!!!”

You scream at his face out of pure reflex, but everyone in the vicinity is so faded that no one even hears it. Well, except for Chris who folds in half howling with laughter.

“Ask him,” Hyunjin points at the yang to his yin extremely seriously. “What was I doing just last night?”

“I’m gonna be a gentleman and say he was reading the latest drop, but he changed his sheets at 2 a.m. Do the math,” Chris corroborates while wiping the tears from his eyes. “So yeah, can confirm he’s not mad. Mad horny, maybe”

“But…” Hyunjin snuggles up to you, speaking directly into your ear. “I am mad about something else.”

“W–What did I do?” you turn your head to face him, almost brushing against his lips.

“What is it about me that you don’t like anymore?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

“WHAT?!”

“It’s the haircut, isn’t it?” he tsks in disappointment. “You find it off-putting.”

“Absolutely not! Where did that even come from?!”

“Then how fucking come you’re wrecked so easily after all these years? I thought we had something.”

The course of the night is quite disorienting as it is. Then he goes ahead and says all that in a single breath, fire shooting out of his eyes as if you’ve cussed out the entire Hwang bloodline. He sounds more delulu than all fics in existence combined, yet he’s dead serious, legitimately demanding an answer from you.

You’re so dumbfounded, you can’t produce a single coherent thought!

“Fine,” Hyunjin pulls out his phone and shows you the screen. “Read it. Out loud.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake…

If you can get an ETA on when you can vanish, please, because the self-cringe of looking at your own blog is suf–fo–ca–ting! Nevertheless, it suddenly doesn’t seem entirely implausible to you that these two may indeed be dying laughing at the fanservice defenders. If you posted about this very moment right now, no one would ever believe you, either, would they?

Mad imagination, bro. 12/10 gooned. Have my reblog.

You sigh in exasperation, trying to dissociate from the fact that those are your own words on the screen, and start reading.

“Guys, I’m this cl—”

“No,” Hyunjin stops you with the tone of an insufferable director. “With feeling.”

Are you unknowingly auditioning for something, or…?

You try to remember what you were doing when you rabidly typed this nonsense and yeeted it into the void of the interwebs. Some teaser pictures had dropped, so it wasn’t even anything that deep. Just plain, good ol’ thirst for normal people, but treason-level betrayal by a certain kiwi’s insane biasing standards.

And nothing less than a recommittal blood oath will convince him of your loyalty, apparently.

“Guys, I’m this close to ulting the shit out of Chris. He’s…” you pause to chase some of the cringe with a sip of vodka. “He’s been wrecking me left and right this comeback.”

“I know, right?” Chris cheeses at you, then mimics Hyunjin’s earlier tone. “It’s the bench press thirst traps, isn’t it?”

“All of it,” Hyunjin demands. “Don’t stop at the best part now.”

Real talk? You’d rather endure the ship interrogation than this medieval-adjacent self-reflection moment. Maybe they used to make witches read their own fics aloud, too, who knows?

“Send help,” you punctuate your unhinged diary entry with an eye roll and hand him his phone back.

“Well then.”

He suddenly pulls you close from your waist, shifting you to straddle his lap. The sight must be a little too satisfying, the way his jaw drops watching you sit on your new throne, breathing heavily as he runs his hands up your waist.

“Help,” he brushes two fingers down your cleavage, “has arrived.” 

It doesn’t feel real at all. You’re so close to him that if you move forward just an inch, you can kiss him. In your absence, Chris moves right next to Hyunjin and starts lazily stroking your legs, smiling to himself as he watches goosebumps spread on your skin in slow motion.

“Be honest with me,” Hyunjin puts a hand on your cheek, pointing at Chris with a nod. “Do you wish it was him touching you instead?”

“That’s not what I meant when I said—”

“Look, I get why you might have slipped for a moment,” he interrupts, holding Chris’s face between his thumb and index fingers. “Just look at him. He’s so hot, fucking pisses me off sometimes.”

“Pisses you off, my ass,” Chris scoffs with a snort. “Tell that to your dick standing at attention every time I get out of the shower.”

“Not the time to air our dirty laundry,” Hyunjin turns off the black box, then turns to you. “But if you’re really sorry for abandoning me—”

“I didn’t abandon you!” you protest.

“You did, and it broke my heart,” he instantly denies your appeal, his expression somehow crestfallen and quietly enraged at the same time. “Or are you not sorry at all?”

“I am sorry for upsetting you, but not for abandoning you,” you respond. “Because I didn’t.”

“But you are sorry.”

“I am.”

“Then,” he slowly drags a strap of your dress down your shoulder, “show me how much.”

“T–There are people here,” you quickly grab his hand.

“Of course there are,” he purses his lips. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be a ceremony.”

“Just what the hell is this ceremony for?” you crease your brows. “I haven’t seen one ribbon getting cut.”

“Just because they aren’t in your face doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” he responds with a grin. “You asked me to save you from your misery, remember?”

what if IM hyunjin and ur just giving me ideas lol

Your face changes when it finally starts to sink in.

You look around, and that’s when you see the room for the first time. There are clusters of people spread all over the place, each with a “focal point” amidst them. Depending on the kind of lens you have, you can claim they are being worshipped, pleasured, or entirely humiliated.

Only then does it dawn on you that the “opening ceremony”, at least the one held on this side of the room, is of you.

“Don’t avert your eyes,” Hyunjin holds your face with the kind of tenderness that does not belong to the salacious backdrop. “Look at me.”

And look, you do.

You see two men before you, their gaze somewhat soft but not because it bears any wholesome intent. It’s a tiger and a wolf sitting side by side, and the only reason they don’t snarl is not to spook the gazelle. Otherwise, you can see the drool pooling in their mouth. The intent doesn’t seem entirely nefarious, either, but you have lowered inhibitions and complete heart eyes for them, so… Not exactly the beacon of sound judgement.

When Hyunjin starts pulling you in, the remaining crumbs of sound judgement evacuate the building anyway.

“Kiss the lips you keep writing about,” he quietly demands.

Your life temporarily ends when he takes your lips within his. It’s not like your makeout scoreboard is completely blank, but you’ve never felt anything like this before. The man doesn’t kiss; he attempts to pour himself into your body, then permeate every single corner until he completely possesses you.

Divide and Hwangquer.

“Feeling a little neglected here,” Chris interrupts. “No kisses for me?”

That pout paired with the puppy eyes gives you a little cuteness aggression. You steal a glance from Hyunjin, trying to gauge how upset he’d be if you kissed Chris, but he beats you to it. He just knows you’ll prefer the “fanservice” over a stupid membership card anyway. Now he can thank you for all the sheets he ruined in a single installment.

He grabs Chris by the nape and fucking goes for it, showing you what you would have seen if he had finished that pepero to completion. It makes you wanna combust that their rhythm seems so memorized. It’s pure muscle memory. If these demons had a side hustle where they made out to entertain an audience, the entire community would find out the day they created an account. Not even the most devout “It’s fanservice!” supremacist can explain how two people can know each other’s hot spots this well if they haven’t found them firsthand.

FUCK, IT’S TRUE THEN?!

As Hyunjin languidly grinds against you, he unbuttons Chris’s pants and frees his cock, making him whimper when he wraps his long fingers around him. You can’t control the throb between your legs when you hear that sound, and of course Hyunjin notices, breaking into a diabolical smile.

He channels his attention to you again, this time meeting no resistance when he reaches for the strap of your dress. He takes the left side while Chris takes the right, both men savoring the fuck out of unwrapping the present they treated themselves to. The tiger and the wolf can no longer hide their intent, openly showing their teeth as they stare at your bare chest. As if they communicate with telepathy, each sucks on a nipple at the same time, the same way they make out with each other. Loud. Messy.

Wet.

When you run your fingers through his hair, Chris looks up and makes eye contact with you. He lets go of your nipple and reaches for your face, demanding his kiss. They both melt within your lips, but it’s like night and day. Hyunjin kisses like a Sunday morning—slow and lazy, deep sighs, soft touches because you have all the time in the world. Whereas Chris is like a quickie you know you shouldn’t have—fast and passionate, heavy breathing, firm gropes because you are strapped for time before you get busted.

But both set your body on fire just the same.

Hyunjin stops when he realizes there’s a makeout session going on over his head and starts kissing your neck, fondling everything he can reach. Shortly after, you feel a hand on your inner thighs caressing you. Then it moves up. More. A bit more. It makes you shudder when it reaches the dampened fabric gatekeeping your wetness.

“So, you’re saying,” Hyunjin unzips his pants and lets his cock hang, “if I dip my tongue in there, I’ll be the first ever to taste you?”

“Y–Yes,” you barely manage to answer, wits barely intact.

“You wouldn’t… lie to me, would you?” he squints with suspicion.

Then something you can’t quite explain happens.

Hyunjin looks the same, but his demeanor feels… sinister, almost. It’s like there is a very specific answer to his question, and if you can’t get it exactly right, there will be consequences. The problem is, you can’t tell if he’s roleplaying or if his personality is actually changing right before your eyes.

If the tiger snarls that loudly, obviously it will spook the gazelle.

“Of course not,” Chris intervenes with the wholesomest smile, his voice softer than cumulus clouds. “She would never do that to you.”

“She said she loved me, but it didn’t stop her from having eyes for you,” Hyunjin stares daggers at him. “How do I know she’s telling the truth this time?”

“Hyun, you’re scaring her.”

Hyunjin swiftly turns to you, and when you make eye contact, his rigid scowl suddenly disappears. He averts his eyes like he’s ashamed, but the pout doesn’t go anywhere.

It’s like you’re trying to communicate with a stubborn kid.

“If I hurt you so much,” you softly utter, tilting your head to look into his eyes, “would you like me to leave?”

He immediately grabs your hand like you’re going to vanish otherwise, his eyes widened like saucers. Chris giggles at his reaction and wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s waist behind him.

“You just loooove being a mega spoiled brat, don’t you?” he nibbles on Hyunjin’s earlobe, then flashes his mega reassuring dimples at you. “Asking for a kiss like a normal person is too pedestrian for our prince, so he has to make a scene.”

You thought he was fucking around when he said he was heartbroken earlier, but he looks it. You are so confused, and nothing makes sense to you, but a part of you feels weirdly privileged to witness whatever is going on.

“Come closer,” Chris invites you, placing open-mouth kisses on Hyunjin’s neck. “Let’s pacify him a bit.”

You hold Hyunjin’s hands and put them on your waist, then pull him into a kiss. As soon as your lips touch, he immediately starts melting, and you can feel his body go limp in your arms. He softly moans into you, one hand on your face, the other holding Chris’s hand behind him.

“Do you really love me?” he asks with a pout.

“I came here tonight because Mr. Hwang asked for me,” you affirm. “There was no mention of Chris.”

“Will you stop loving him then?”

“Will you?” you raise your brows, unwittingly laughing. “Don’t ask me for things you don’t have the balls to do.”

“Will you at least stop biasing him then?”

“What’s happening to you?” you smile through your creased brows, strangely endeared.

“Nothing, baby. It’s his dinner time, and he gets very groggy when he doesn’t eat,” Chris answers on his behalf, looking at you knowingly. “So you might wanna feed him now.”

Hyunjin doesn’t lose another second and gently pushes you to lie on your back, comfortably settling between your legs. He has zero patience left to take the teasing route, but still tries his best to hold it together and not rip your underwear off altogether.

“Oh, you so wanna shove it in there already, don’t you?” Chris chuckles, seeing Hyunjin practically drool at the amount of slick.

“Fucking look at this, my god,” Hyunjin bites his lips hard.

“Rock paper scissors?” Chris extends his hand.

“Oh, fuck you, I have bias privileges,” Hyunjin slaps it away. “Dibs on everything.”

“Yes, you do, but you will do my requests, right?

You kinda wanna slap Chris when Hyunjin stops two millimeters away from your pussy and looks up at him. It’s so strange that he seems to only listen to Chris and do everything he says with blind obedience, as if he doesn’t have a mind of his own.

Huh…

“What do you want?”

“How about you get her suuuper wet first,” Chris speaks, dragging Hyunjin’s lip down with his thumb, “then double cream her?”

They smirk at each other, and you almost die because WHAT EVEN IS THIS INSANE DYNAMIC?! They’ve done this before for sure; the correct question is JUST HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES?

“I’m just gonna borrow her a bit so I can cum faster, okay?” Chris gives a quick peck on Hyunjin’s lips. “She still only loves you.”

“I know,” Hyunjin tries to play it cool, but massively fails when he can’t help his smile.

“And I only love you, too.”

FUCK—THIS!!!

You suddenly forget where you are and what you’re about to do, barely stopping yourself from shedding happy tears, because what other proof do you need here, really?

fAnSeRvIcE, my ass!

“I guess it’s only fair that I warn you about this,” Hyunjin licks his lips with sheer hunger, spreading your legs wide.

“A–About what?”

“That no one’s gonna compare to me after tonight. You’ll live the rest of your life looking for me in everyone you fuck,” he smirks big. “So maybe don’t even bother fucking them in the first place.”

You inadvertently arch into him with a gasp when he finally graces you with that first lick, grabbing onto Chris lying by your side. It’s such an unfamiliar, brand-new feeling, and it spreads all over your body faster than a pandemic. So wet. So warm. Dangerously addictive. Unfathomable that someone could have this kind of appetite for you one day, but there you have it in technicolor. And out of all people it could possibly be, it’s Hwang Hyunjin.

The only man ever.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” you let slip unbeknownst to yourself.

“Mpf…”

You sink your fingers deeper into Chris when Hyunjin moans into your pussy. The vibrations feel so nice. It’s like an ‘achievement unlocked’ moment—when you talk to him, he reacts.

And he reacts good.

“Feels good, yeah? Now we’re gonna do the same with you,” Chris gets on his knees and presses his cock on your lips. “Open your mouth for me.”

You don’t exactly understand why, but you’re starting to relate to Hyunjin. For whatever reason, when Chris says something, you just do, no questions asked.

You take him into your mouth, but he doesn’t move for a while, just enjoying the sensation as he watches Hyunjin work wonders on your pussy. The man is gone, eating like he’s been starved to death, and when he realizes Chris is watching, he stops sucking, spreads your lips, and makes a complete show of flicking his tongue on your clit as fast as he can.

You’ve heard of chain reaction crashes before, but only now do you understand how they work. Hyunjin licks your soul out of you, you moan louder, and it somehow manifests itself within Chris’s body even though he’s fucking your face. It’s as if you’re just a vessel connecting the two lovers, and Hyunjin pleasures Chris through you.

If you can choose your own death, this is your preferred way to go.

“Oh, FUCK, sorry baby, borrowing your man for a bit,” Chris hurriedly pulls out and rushes to Hyunjin. “I’m about to explode. Fucking finish me!”

Hyunjin gets on his knees, fervently stroking Chris until he unloads a hefty load all over his cock. It’s unclear whether it’s Chris or you who’s about to pass out when he cums because you’ve never seen something this hot in your entire life.

“Do it now,” Chris flashes a fucked out smile. “Before it dries.”

Hyunjin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and aligns himself with your entrance. As his precum mingles with Chris’s drops at the tip, you see the tiger has fully murderous intent now, groaning loudly even though he very very shallowly thrusts into you, only a knuckle deep. Literally just the tip, barely holding himself back from ramming himself into you with how deliciously slippery you are.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you when you flinch a bit. “I’ll be very gentle.”

“Why? I didn’t ask you to.”

The two men look at each other and flash the most evil smiles you’ve seen anyone flash.

“Jackpot,” Chris sinks his teeth into his lips.

“Lick her clit so she gets tighter around me,” Hyunjin demands, then looks deep into your eyes. “We’ll see how you like me now.”

“Ah, FUCK!”

You said it yourself. You said so many things yourself. How you were this obsessed with him. How you wanted him to break you in. How you wanted just one chance in exchange for an NDA. And now not to be gentle with you. You’re right, why should he? It’s not like you’re made of glass. You’re a big girl, you can take it.

He’s just complying with your wishes here.

“Your eyes are rolling back,” Hyunjin clenches his teeth, maniacally laughing. “Go ahead. Go ahead and fall back in love with me.”

All you can make is incoherent noises while he sinks into your deepest spots, Chris’s tongue gliding all over your clit. This is it. This is how you go certifiably insane, if not die altogether. Not even the worst fantasies your mind has ever conjured can compare to this, and in your heart of hearts, you know Hyunjin is right. No one’s gonna compare to him, to them, after this, and you have no idea how you’re supposed to go on with your life.

If only there was a way that… If only…

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, I’m about t— HYUNJIN!!!”

As you let out a sound you didn’t even know you were capable of making, both men pin you in your place, forcing you to just let the pleasure in. In all your years of self-pleasuring, you have never reached a high this surreal, tearing your soul from your body, and you just know that after tonight, you never will. Squeezing him to death within your walls, you shove Hyunjin into his atom-rearranging orgasm, and his load is so heavy that you can feel every single drop he shoots inside you.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin is so happy he got to be your first that he could die.

“Are you in love with me again?” he nuzzles against your neck once he comes back enough to be able to speak words.

“If I say yes, will you stop obsessing over this?”

“I’m not promising anything.”

You flash him the most fucked out smile. He smiles back. Your heart swells in your chest to the point of combustion when you see his dimples.

“Then no, I’m not,” you stroke his kiwi hair. “Try again.”

He’s not in the least bit offended. If anything, this is the closest he’s been to fansign Hyunjin the entire night, his chuckle making your heart go into overdrive.

“Now that the official ceremony is over,” Chris gets up and starts putting his clothes on, “let’s bounce.”

“Are you really gonna make us move right now?” Hyunjin whines.

“Of fucking course, I am!” Chris scowls, incredulous that Hyunjin would even dare say something like this. “I still need to fuck her, and all our toys are back home.”

❥ Reblog & drop your feedback to make Hyunchan bias you.

This is a one shot. There is no part two.

「© 2026, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

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LEE LEEKNOW MINHO

Minho is a teasing sadist even when he’s losing control. He has you on all fours, one hand fisted in your hair as he fucks you hard from behind. Every deep thrust makes him groan, and instead of letting the sounds out freely, he leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder blade.

The bite is sharp and deliberate, meant to muffle his pretty moans. “Quiet… or I’ll bite harder,” he whispers, voice sweet but threatening, right before his teeth dig in again. He loves the way you whimper when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him. He alternates between soft, teasing nips and hard, possessive bites that leave clear teeth marks.

He’ll bite the back of your neck, your shoulder, even the curve of your waist if he can reach it. Each bite is accompanied by a low, muffled groan that vibrates against your skin. When he’s close, his rhythm becomes punishing and his bites turn almost feral. He cums with his teeth sunk deep into your shoulder, groaning loudly into your skin as he fills you. Afterwards, he licks the bite marks almost apologetically while calling you his pretty kitten.

SEO CHANGBIN

Changbin is loud, intense, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s lost in you. He has you bent over the edge of the bed in a deep doggy-style position, his powerful body completely covering yours from behind. His thick, muscular thighs slap against the back of yours with every brutal thrust, the sound wet and obscene in the room.

Every time his fat cock slams deep into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your toes curl, a deep, guttural groan builds in his chest. He tries to hold it back, but he can’t. Instead, he leans forward, pressing his broad, sweaty chest against your back, and sinks his teeth hard into your shoulder. The bite is strong and possessive, his jaw clenching as he muffles a loud, animalistic moan against your skin.

“Fuck— baby, you’re so tight,” he growls, voice deep and rough, the words vibrating through his teeth into your flesh. His massive hands grip your snatchable waist tightly, fingers digging deep into your soft skin as he uses your body like a handle to pull you back onto his thick cock. The contrast is overwhelming. His huge, muscular frame against your smaller one, his teeth sunk into your shoulder while he pounds you mercilessly.

The position lets him hit even deeper, and his muffled moans become louder, more broken. He growls into your skin, teeth clenched tight as his hips stutter. He cums with a loud, deep, muffled roar, sinking his teeth hard into your shoulder as thick ropes of cum flood deep inside you. His whole body shakes against yours, muscles flexing as he holds you in place, refusing to let go until he’s completely emptied himself.

HWANG HYUNJIN

Hyunjin turns even something as raw as biting into something almost poetic. He has you riding him slowly, his back against the headboard, hands gripping your hips as you sink down onto his cock. His head falls back at first, long hair messy, lips parted in pleasure. But as the intensity builds and his thrusts become deeper, needy moans start slipping out.

He suddenly leans forward, burying his face in the curve of your neck and shoulder. His teeth graze your skin teasingly at first, then sink in with a low, breathy groan that vibrates against you. “You feel too good… I can’t stay quiet,” he whispers hotly before biting harder, teeth pressing into your soft flesh as he snaps his hips up sharply.

The bite is firm but graceful enough to leave a clear imprint, but never truly painful. He loves the way your body jolts when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him in response. His long fingers dig into your waist as he uses your body to bounce you harder on his cock. Every deep thrust is paired with a new bite. On your collarbone, the top of your breast, the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Then he'd moans against your skin, teeth grazing before sinking in again. His voice is breathy and beautiful, even when muffled. As he gets closer, his bites become more desperate, almost frantic. He holds you down on his cock with one hand on your waist while his mouth stays latched onto your shoulder, moaning loudly into your skin as he cums deep inside you. Afterward, he gently kisses and licks every bite mark, admiring how pretty they look on your skin while whispering how perfect you are.

HAN JISUNG

Jisung is loud, desperate, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s inside you. He has you in missionary, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you hard and fast. His face is buried in your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin with every thrust.

Every time his cock hits that perfect spot deep inside you, a loud, broken moan tries to escape him. He solves it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, muffling the sound against your skin. “Fuck— baby, you feel so good I can’t—,” he whimpers before biting down harder, teeth digging in as his hips snap forward desperately.

His bites are messy and needy, lots of small, overlapping marks all over your shoulders, neck, and collarbone. He can’t control himself. The harder he pounds into you, the harder he bites, using your body to muffle his loud, whiny moans. “I’m sorry— you’re too tight,” he whines pathetically against your skin, teeth still latched on.

When he gets close, his thrusts turn frantic and sloppy. He buries his face completely in your neck and bites down hard on your shoulder as he cums, moaning loudly into your flesh while filling you up. His whole body shakes against you. Even after he finishes, he keeps his teeth gently pressed against your skin for a few seconds, breathing heavily, before he starts kissing and licking the marks apologetically.

LEE FELIX YONGBOK

Felix’s deep voice makes his muffled moans incredibly sexy. He has you in missionary, body pressed close to yours as he fucks you with slow, deep rolls of his hips. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin.

Every time he bottoms out, a low, rumbling groan builds in his chest. He muffles it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, the vibration of his deep voice traveling straight through the bite. “You feel so fucking good, angel,” he groans against your skin before biting harder, teeth pressing firmly into your flesh as he grinds deep.

His bites are sensual and possessive. He loves leaving a trail of marks across your shoulders and chest. The combination of his deep voice, his teeth on your skin, and his thick cock stretching you open is overwhelming. He’ll switch between soft, teasing nips and harder bites that make you gasp. “Can’t stay quiet when you’re this tight around me,” he moans, voice beautifully low even when muffled.

When he’s close, his thrusts become deeper and more intense. He holds you tightly and bites down on your neck as he cums, groaning deeply into your skin while filling you up. The feeling of his teeth and his low, vibrating moans pushes you over the edge with him. Afterward, he gently kisses every bite mark, his deep voice soft and loving as he tells you how perfect you felt.

KIM SEUNGMIN

Seungmin tries to stay composed, but you feel too good for him to stay quiet. He has you pinned beneath him, fucking you with sharp, precise thrusts. His face is in your neck, and every time a moan threatens to slip out, he bites down on your shoulder.

The bite is firm and teasing. “Can’t even stay quiet for me?” he mocks softly against your skin before sinking his teeth in again. His bites are tender, never too painful, but hard enough to leave clear marks and make you whimper. He loves the way you clench around him when he bites. “Pathetic… getting wetter every time I bite you.”

He keeps one hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he has better access to your neck and shoulder. His thrusts are relentless, each one paired with a new bite. When he’s close, he bites down harder, muffling his rare but beautiful moans as he cums deep inside you. And even that bite couldn't hide how desperate his moans are spilling ending up with his whole body rigid. Afterwards, when you tried to open it up with he'll act as if that thing never happened.

YANG JEONGIN

Jeongin gets surprisingly possessive and eager when pleasure overwhelms him. He has you in doggy style or spooning, body pressed close as he fucks you hard. His face is buried in the back of your neck or shoulder, breathing heavily.

Every deep thrust makes him moan, so he solves it by biting down on your shoulder. “Noona… you feel too good,” he groans before sinking his teeth in, trying to muffle the sound. His bites start a little shy but quickly become more confident and possessive. He loves leaving marks on you, clear evidence that he was there.

As he gets more lost in pleasure, his bites become harder and more frequent. He grips your waist tightly with one hand while biting your shoulder, using your body to pull you back onto his cock. “I can’t stop… you’re too tight,” he whimpers against your skin, teeth still latched on. When he cums, he bites down firmly on your shoulder, groaning into your flesh as he fills you up, making up pull his head up just so he could gasp the pleasure out. Afterward, he becomes very soft and clingy, kissing the bite marks gently while asking if he was too rough.

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"You're fucking kidding me." You stare at the text message. Three sentences that might as well be a bomb dropped in the middle of your living room.

Hey, sorry for the short notice, but I’m moving in with my boyfriend at the end of the week.

I know rent’s due soon, but I kinda already spent my half on the security deposit for our new place.

Good luck finding someone else!

shit

Rent is due in nine days, and your bank account isn’t exactly overflowing.

You’ve never lived alone before. Couldn’t afford it even if you wanted to. And the thought of scrambling to find a new roommate in a week makes your stomach twist.

You're halfway through drafting a frantic "roommate needed ASAP" text to your groupchat when your phone buzzes.

it's one of your few friends who actually bothers to check in.

Heard about your roomie bailing. Absolute bullshit.

Anyway I know a guy. Chill as hell, works freelance, needs a place.

You'd vibe.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The last thing you want is some rando bringing chaos into your already crumbling life.

But then your landlord's terse "rent due on the 1st, no exceptions" text flashes in your mind.

Fine. Give him my number.

Chan texts you thirty minutes later. His messages are polite. Full sentences, proper punctuation, none of that monosyllabic grunting.

He suggests meeting at the apartment tomorrow afternoon to check the place out, and you agree.

The next day, you're scrubbing the bathroom sink when the doorbell rings. Chan stands in the hallway holding a paper bag that smells like garlic and herbs. "Figured we could talk over lunch," he says, smiling like this isn't weird at all.

Up close, he's so much cuter than you expected, blond hair, unfairly big broad shoulders, dressed in a blank tanktop that showed them off perfectly.

You blink at the take out bag, then at Chan’s easy grin.

There’s no nervous energy radiating off him, no awkward shuffling — just this unsettling calm, like he’s already decided he belongs here. “Uh,” you say, wiping your damp hands on your pants, “you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupts, already toeing off his sneakers without waiting for an invite. The scent of roasted garlic and rosemary spills into the apartment as he breezes past you toward the kitchen. “But food makes everything less weird, right?”

You trail after him, you don't know whether to be annoyed or charmed.

Chan unpacks the food containers, grilled chicken, some kind of herby rice, roasted vegetables that don’t look like the sad microwave steam bags you usually survive on.

He slides a plate toward you. “Eat first, then interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” You stab a piece of chicken, watching him warily.

Chan shrugs, mouth already full. “Standard roommate shit. ‘Do you snore?’ ‘Are you a serial killer?’ ‘Will you steal my leftovers?’” He swallows, grinning.

“The answer’s no, no, and only if you leave them unlabelled.”

The food is homemade stupidly good, and Chan’s presence is… unsettlingly comfortable.

By the time you’re scraping the last of the rice off your plate, you’ve learned he does something vague with digital marketing (“Basically, I convince people to buy shit they don’t need”), he actually enjoys doing laundry, and he likes to cook.

“So,” Chan says, stacking the empty containers, “you wanna show me around, or should I just start claiming drawers?”

The tour is quick — your apartment isn’t exactly sprawling — but Chan makes appreciative noises at the closet space and tests how sturdy the bed frame is (#whatdatmean).

When you hesitantly mention rent, he waves a hand. “Half’s fine. I’ll pay first and last upfront if you want.”

You stare. “You don’t even know the amount.”

Chan shrugs, leaning against the kitchen counter “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got it.” He pulls out his phone, taps a few times, and, before you can protest, your own phone buzzes with a notification.

It’s a Venmo payment for double what you were about to say rent costs.

Your mouth opens, then closes. “You—what? That’s too much.”

“Nah.” He pockets his phone, grinning at your baffled expression. “Consider it a ‘sorry for being weirdly pushy’. ”

You don’t argue. You can’t argue — not when your bank account is currently breathing its first sigh of relief in months.

A girls got priorities, and he doesn't really seem to mind. it's a win win scenario.

~

The first month was… strange. Not bad, just strange. he was genuinely nice, easy to talk to. it wasn't long till the initial awkwardness — if there was any — wore off. you'd become something sort of friends, and both of you settled into a quiet rhythm.

he'd left cash for rent in a neat stack on the kitchen counter on first of the month, slightly more than his half again.

When you tried to give him the extra back, he just waved you off.

You caught glimpses of his routine. disappearing into his room at odd hours, the low murmur of his voice through the walls late at night.

And then there was the day you came home early.

You weren’t supposed to be back until ten, but your shift ended early, and the bus was miraculously on time for once.

The apartment was quiet when you unlocked the door, just the hum of the fridge and the faint creak of the floorboards under your feet.

You’d barely set your bag down when you heard it — a low noise from Chan’s room.

Your fingers froze on the zipper of your jacket. The sound came again, breathier this time, followed by the slick, rhythmic sound of skin on skin.

you thought it was a girlfriend he never told you about.

The idea punched a weird, hollow ache into your ribs — which was stupid, because it’s not like you had any claim on him.

Still, you stood there frozen in the hallway, his door slightly ajar, listening to the sounds of his pleasure like some kind of creep.

You backed out of the apartment, easing the door shut with just the softest whisper of the latch catching. Your pulse hammered in your throat as you ducked into the stairwell, pressing your back against the cool concrete wall.

The rational part of your brain screamed at you to stop being weird, to just walk back in like a normal person. But the irrational part — the part currently in charge — was too busy replaying the sounds spilling from Chan’s room to listen.

You get out of the building and circle the block twice, three times, counting cracks in the sidewalk. The air smells like rain that hasn’t fallen yet, and you bask in that atmosphere till roughly an hour has passed.

When you finally drag yourself back inside, the apartment is quiet. Chan’s door is shut tight, the shower running, and no girlfriend in sight.

she must've left early.

You freeze halfway to your room when the shower shuts off. your feet are planted still go to your room, go to your room

but you weren't quick enough, and a few seconds later, Chan emerges with only a towel slung low on his hips.

He's startled when he sees you, droplets flicking off his hair as he jerks his head up. “oh hey—” His voice is casual before you cut him off, "shit—sorry!" your face heats up at the sight, your eyes wander, trailing down his toned chest that still had water droplets running down, before snapping your head in the other direction.

was he always this muscular?

and you can't help but notice that there are no hickeys on his neck, no marks on his arms, and surprisingly put together for someone who just had his girlfriend over less than an hour ago.

"no no— you're good." he reassures with a smile, "you're back early."

You swallow hard. “Yeah. Shift got cut."

Chan leans against the doorframe, his damp hair curling at the ends. You try not to stare at the way his towel clings precariously to his hips, but your gaze keeps flicking downward anyway, betraying you.

"Everything okay?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

"Y-yeah," you stammer, fingers twisting in the hem of your jacket. "Just—uh. Busy day."

Chan hums, nodding. His eyes flick over your face, lingering a second too long on your flushed cheeks before he grins. "Cool. I was just gonna make some food if you’re hungry."

The casual offer throws you off. You were expecting — what? Awkward silence? Averted eyes? Not this easy warmth.

but you just nod dumbly. "Yeah. Food sounds good."

he pushes off the doorframe, padding toward the kitchen. The towel rides up slightly with each step, revealing the sharp cut of his hip bones, and you have to physically bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making a noise.

“You good?” he calls over his shoulder, like he can feel your stare burning into his back.

“Fine,” you squeak, following at a safe distance, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. The kitchen tile is cool under your socked feet, a welcome distraction from the heat crawling up your neck.

Chan hums again, rummaging through the fridge with one hand while the other keeps his towel secured. The muscles in his back flex as he leans forward, and you’re suddenly very interested in the color of your sponge bob socks.

“Leftover pasta okay?” he asks, pulling out a container with a rattle of plastic. You nod mutely, watching as he moves around the kitchen, his bare feet slapping against the tiles.

The stove clicks to life, the hiss of gas filling the silence between you. Chan leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, “So,” he starts, “how was work?”

You blink. “Uh. Fine. Boring.” The words tumble out too fast, your pulse jumping when Chan chuckles. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and suddenly you’re hyperaware of every inch of space between you.

he scrapes the leftover pasta into the pan, the sizzle of garlic and butter filling the silence between you. His towel shifts dangerously low with each stir, but he doesn’t seem to notice — or maybe he does.

The corner of his mouth twitches when he catches you staring, and you snap your gaze to the ceiling like it’s suddenly fascinating.

"You know," he says, voice light, "most roommates don’t freak out when they see each other half dressed." The wooden spoon clinks against the pan as he scrapes the edges.

"I wasn’t freaking out."

Chan laughs, "You literally yelped like I pulled a knife on you." He glances over his shoulder, eyes dragging down your body in a way that makes your knees weak. "Unless you’re into that."

The pasta sizzles loudly in the pan, drowning out the choked sound that escapes your throat at Chan’s words. "I—that’s not—"

Chan turns fully now, abandoning the stove, and the towel dips dangerously low. His smirk is infuriating, "Relax," he murmurs, stepping closer, "Just teasing."

You laugh nervously, the sound too high pitched, too obvious. "I'm just gonna—" You jerk your thumb toward your room, already backing away. "Change into something more... home-y."

Chan raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Home-y,"

"yea—!" your voice cracks "y'know comfortable....home clothes"

Then you gesture vaguely at his towel, your voice cracking slightly. "Are you— uh, gonna put on actual clothes before we eat? Because I'm pretty sure health code violations apply to apartments too."

Chan glances down at himself, then back up at you, "Why?" He grins, tilting his head. "Distracted?"

"Yes—no," you sputter, crossing your arms tightly over your chest like armor. "I just don’t want your—" You wave a hand wildly in the general direction of his hips. "That—near my dinner."

Chan laughs, a full blown laugh, and you take that chance to bolt for your room, shoulders hunched as if that’ll make you smaller, less noticeable.

The door clicks shut behind you with a click, and you press your forehead against the cool wood, exhaling sharply.

"And turn the heat down!" you call out, voice too high,"Unless you want to burn the house down!"

Another laugh, muffled through the door. "Yes, mom," Chan drawls, the playful lilt in his voice making your cheeks burn hotter.

The stove clicks as he adjusts the flame, the sound followed by the soft thud of his footsteps padding down the hall. You squeeze your eyes shut, listening to the creak of his bedroom door, the rustle of fabric as he presumably — finally — changes.

You peel yourself off the door, fingers fumbling at the jacket of your shirt. The fabric clings to your skin, damp with nervous sweat, and you wrestle it off.

Home-y. Right. who even says that?

Stupid stupid stupid.

Your dresser drawer sticks halfway open, You grab the first shirt your fingers brush against, soft from too many washes, and a pair of sweatpants with the elastic stretched out.

'He has a girlfriend,' you think, shimmying out of your jeans. The denim catches around your ankles, nearly causing you to trip.

'Probably. Maybe. Who the fuck knows.'

You yank the shirt over your head so hard the neckline stretches. The mirror across the room reflects your flushed face, your hair mussed from the fabric dragging through it.

You look and feel ridiculous.

You pull up your pants, then pause, fingers hovering at the waistband. Avoid him. Simple. Logical. You can do that.

but it wasn't that easy. after all there is only so much avoiding one could do to someone they live with.

The apartment isn’t big enough for elaborate evasion tactics, and Chan seems to have a sixth sense for popping up exactly where you don’t want him.

Leaning against the fridge when you’re raiding it at 2 am, or lounging on the couch just as you’re about to claim it for a late night tv binge.

So you just ended up being cooped in your room for most of the day.

But Chan isn’t stupid. eventually after days passed by, he’s leaning against your bedroom doorframe when you crack it open after what you thought was a safe half hour of silence.

“So,” he says, arms crossed, voice dripping with amusement, “you’re avoiding me.”

You freeze, one socked foot hovering mid step like a cartoon character caught mid sneak. “No,” you lie too quickly.

Chan raises an eyebrow. “You literally just ducked into the bathroom because you heard me coming down the hall.”

“I had to pee.”

“For the fourth time today?” His grin lopsided, “Either you’ve got a UTI, or you’re full of shit.”

You grit your teeth, fingers tightening around the doorknob. “Maybe both.”

he sighs out laugh, then steps closer, “Listen,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a serious tone, “if this is about the whole towel thing—”

“It’s not,” you answer quickly, too loud, too fast.

“So it is about the towel thing.”

“I’m not—” You exhale sharply through your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can you just—” You gesture vaguely at the space between you. “Give me, like, a three foot radius?”

Chan tilts his head, considering. His gaze drags down your body, before settling back on your face. “Nah,” he says finally, “I like you flustered.”

You bite your lip, eyes darting around, then settle on his, before darting around again.

The silence stretches, until you finally crack under the weight of it. “you—don’t you have a girlfriend?” you blurt, the words stumbling out in a rushed, stuttering mess.

Chan blinks, his smirk faltering for half a second before dissolving into genuine confusion. “A what?” His laugh sounds startled, almost disbelieving.

You press your lips together, suddenly regretting every life choice that led you to this moment.

Chan's eyebrows climb toward his hairline, "A girlfriend?" He repeats, "What, like, some theoretical girl who sneaks in when you're not looking?"

You gesture vaguely at him — the tousled hair, the unfairly sculpted shoulders, the effortless charm that clings to him like a second skin.

"You just—seem like the type." The words tumble out half mumbled, your gaze darting anywhere but his face.

Chan’s laughter echoes through the hallway, loud enough that you flinch—not just from the sound, but from the way it makes your stomach flip.

"Oh my god," he wheezes, leaning against the doorframe like he needs the support. "You thought I had some secret girlfriend sneaking in here to—what, fuck me while you're at work?"

You cross your arms tightly, "It's not that ridiculous," you mutter, but even you hear how weak it sounds.

"First of all, if I had a girlfriend, you'd know. I'm not subtle." His smirk tilts into something teasing. "Second, I'm very single. And third—" He pauses, tilting his head. "Wait. Is that why you've been avoiding me? You thought I was getting laid in there and didn't invite you?"

Your face burns. "No—that's not—"

His grin softens slightly, but the teasing glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. "So," he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "what is it, then?"

You swallow hard, fingers gripping the edge of your shirt so tightly the fabric threatens to tear. "Nothing," you lie. "Just—roommate stuff. Boundaries."

Chan hums, "Boundaries," he echoes, Then, "You know you can just tell me if I’m doing something that makes you uncomfortable, right?"

You swallow hard, "Yeah," you mutter, gaze trailing to his eyes and holding his stare for the first time throughout this conversation "I know."

Chan pushes off the doorframe with a shrug, "Alright then," he says, clapping his hands together like he's wiping the whole conversation away. "Takeout time. You in?"

it's like all this man does is think about food...and make you weak in the knees.

You blink, "Uh. Yeah. Sure."

Chan pulls out his phone, already scrolling through delivery apps, "Thai? Or that new Italian place that opened down the street?" He glances up, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Unless you're feeling sushi again, but last time you complained about the wasbi being too strong."

The normalcy of it — the way he remembers your stupid, offhand complaints about condiments — makes something in your chest tighten.

You clear your throat. "Thai’s good."

~

The weirdness fades slowly, chan doesn’t mention the girlfriend comment again, and you stop bolting like a startled deer every time he walks into a room.

He starts leaving his door open when he’s working, the rhythmic tap of his keyboard drifting into the hallway. You catch yourself lingering in the doorway sometimes, watching the way his brow furrows when he’s concentrating, the way he bites his tongue when he’s stuck on something.

once, he catches you staring and pats the space beside him on the bed without looking up from his laptop. “Help me brainstorm this dumb tagline,”

You perch awkwardly at first, careful not to touch him, but Chan sprawls like he owns every inch of the mattress, his thigh pressing warm against yours. and before you know it, you’re leaning into him, pointing at the screen. “That one’s terrible,”

~

Movie nights become a thing.

The first movie night starts by accident — or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. You’re curled into the corner of the couch, knees tucked under your chin, scrolling through your phone while Chan sprawls across the other end, his laptop balanced precariously on his thighs.

Then the Wi-Fi cuts out.

Chan groans, tossing his head back against the cushions. “Fucking landlord,” he mutters, jabbing at his keyboard like it’ll magically fix the connection.

You snort, watching him glare at the screen like it’s personally offended him. “Guess we’re gonna have to talk to each other,”

“Horrifying,” he deadpans, then grabs the remote off the coffee table. “a movie it is.”

You end up with some terrible action movie Chan insists is a “classic,” but neither of you pay much attention. Halfway through, you catch him watching you instead of the screen, his head turning back to the movie when you caught him.

You brush it off, focusing on the screen, but your pulse jumps when Chan shifts closer, his thigh pressing against yours.

The credits roll, and he stretches. The couch creaks as he shifts, stretching his arms overhead with a groan that does things to your already frayed nerves.

"Well," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, "that was a cinematic masterpiece."

You snort, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah, if you consider explosions and zero plot development masterful storytelling."

Chan’s chuckles “Plot is overrated,” he says, “Sometimes you just wanna watch things blow up.”

Chan then exhales heavily and stands. “Alright, I’m hitting the shower,” he says, stretching until his shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of toned stomach. You look away — too late — and Chan’s smirk is audible in his voice. “Try not to miss me too much.”

“In your dreams,” you mutter, but your pulse jumps when he pauses by the hallway, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says softly, almost to himself. “Exactly.”

You sit there, frozen, until the bathroom door clicks shut and the shower starts running. The sound of water hitting tile fills the apartment, and you press your palms to your overheated cheeks, exhaling sharply.

Stupid. You’re being stupid. That probably didn't mean anything.

But then your phone buzzes on the couch beside you, and Chan’s name lights up the screen.

forgot my towel. mind grabbing it?

You stare at the message, then at the hallway, Trap, your brain supplies helpfully.

type back,

Seriously?

he answers immediately

dead serious. i’m vulnerable here.

You groan, dragging a hand down your face, but you’re already standing. His towel hangs on the back of his bedroom door, You grab it, then walk out to the bathroom.

You knock once, then freeze when Chan calls out, “Just come in.”

Your throat goes dry. “Absolutely not.”

Chan’s laugh echoes off the tiles. “Relax, I’m decent.” A pause. “Mostly.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, then shove the towel through the gap in the door, arm outstretched as far as possible. “Here.”

Chan’s fingers brush yours as he takes the towel. His skin is warm, damp, and you jerk your hand back like you’ve been burned.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, voice closer than you expected. You can feel his smile through the door. “You’re a lifesaver.”

You bolt back to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.

too much for your first movie night.

~

just when things were getting normal, It happens again on a monday.

You’re home early again, the apartment is silent. You toe off your shoes, and you were about to shout a "I'm back" when you heard it again.

Low, breathy moans slipping through the crack in Chan’s door.

Your feet root to the floor, ears straining as the noise curls around you.

His voice, thick with pleasure, murmurs something you can’t quite catch — then a wet, rhythmic sound that sends heat flooding your cheeks.

apparently, this man takes his....alone time very seriously.

that's what it had to be right? you can't blame him — you've been there once or twice.

Your breath sticks in your throat, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. The sound— god, the sound — wraps around you, thick and heady, Chan's voice breaking on a moan that scrapes down your spine.

You should move. should bolt to your room, slam the door, drown it out with headphones. but your feet refuse to cooperate.

You tiptoe into the hallway, his door is cracked just enough, and your pulse hammers so loud its drowning out any other coherent thought in your brain.

A peak wouldn't hurt...

The door creaks faintly as it opens another inch, just enough for you to see.

Chan sits on the edge of his bed, but not like you thought. Not hidden, not private. No, this is something else entirely.

A ring light casts a glow over his bare skin, the camera propped on his desk angled perfectly to capture every inch of him. His laptop screen is open with a reflection of him and a rapid stream of comments too fast to read.

Oh.

Oh god.

Your stomach drops, then tightens all at once.

Chan’s head is tipped back, his throat working around a groan as his hand moves lazily between his thighs.

You press yourself against the hallway wall, pulse hammering, thoughts running a hundred miles per hour.

you did not expect this.

His breath hitches, a sharp, punched out sound, and your nails dig into your palms.

Chan’s fingers twist at the base of his cock, his thumb smearing precum in slow circles. The camera catches the way his abs flex as he arches into his own touch, his voice ragged when he murmurs, "Wish you were here." before he bites down on his lower lip. "Could use a mouth right now."

You watch, frozen in place, as his thighs tremble, his free hand fisting in the sheets beside him. The comments on his screen blur into a frenzy of emojis and a bunch of pinging donations. His breath stutters, his jaw clenching as his strokes turn erratic, desperate. “Yeah,” he gasps, voice breaking, “yeah, just like that—”

Then he comes with a choked moan, stripes of white painting his stomach as his back arches off the bed.

Gosh, he’s gorgeous — and you barely register the dampness between your own thighs until Chan slumps back against the pillows, chest heaving.

Chan exhales sharply, his fingers still lazily stroking his softening cock as he leans forward, just enough to tap something on his laptop.

he ends the stream with a wink and a low, raspy comment that you didn't quite catch. The screen goes black, and you barely have half a second to process the situation before your body kicks into motion.

You bolt down the hallway, socked feet silent against the hardwood.

Your bedroom door clicks shut behind you just as Chan gets up. You press your back against the door, lungs burning from holding your breath, and listen.

Water runs in the sink. A towel rustles. Then you hear footsteps.

They pause outside your door.

You purse your lips and hold your breath. Then Chan hums, before his footsteps retreat down the hall.

You slump against the door, exhaling shakily.

Holy shit.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you fumble to pull it out.

you home early?

You stare at the text, thumbs hovering over the screen. Lie, your brain screams. Tell him no. but then how would you fake going into the apartment if you're already inside the apartment?

Just got back

You hit send before you can second guess it.

Cool. Dinner soon?

Your fingers hover over the screen, the weight of his question pressing against your ribs like a stone. The air in your room feels — too thick — and suddenly the idea of sitting across from Chan at the kitchen table, pretending you didn’t just watch him get off on camera, makes your stomach twist.

Gonna shower first.

Your phone buzzes again before you can even set it down,

Can I join?

You nearly drop it, blood roaring in your ears. Then—

jk. don’t use up all the hot water.

You toss your phone onto your bed and drag a hand down your face with a sigh.

You're deeply fucked.

~

That night, you stayed up aggressively googling him till his page came up.

Onlychans? really?

you'd laugh at the username if it wasn't for the videos that popped up when you clicked on his profile.

Chan, shirtless, sprawled across what is unmistakably your living room couch, one hand lazily palming himself through his sweatpants.

Chan, biting his lip as he slicks lube down his cock, the camera angled to capture every twitch of his abs.

Chan, moaning, his head thrown back against the pillows of his bed —your apartment, your shared space — while his other hand works something thick and glistening into his—

You slam the laptop shut.

Your face burns. Your pulse thrums in your ears. The apartment is silent — Chan’s out for a run, or so he’d claimed when he’d left an hour ago.

You open the laptop again.

It’s Curiosity. That’s all.

It starts innocently enough — just checking his schedule, really. A quick glance at his calendar pinned to the fridge.

"For productivity purposes," Chan had joked when you asked.

Then, sure enough, it spiraled.

You memorize the time of his streams, monday nights, Friday nights, he'd timed them perfectly in sync with times he knew you wouldn't be home. that's why you've been blissfully unaware of him filming in different locations around your shared apartment for the past two and a half months.

And the occasional late night surprise session that leaves you fumbling for your earbuds at 1 am. You'd literally be home, but he'd go live anyway. was he into that?

you were into it too, admittedly, because you turned out to be just as shameful as him.

The notification pops up at 1:47 am on a Wednesday 'Chan is live!' (yes, you turned his notifs on) and your fingers freeze mid doom scroll through Instagram.

your room is dark except for the glow of your phone screen, you're supposed to be asleep.

You tap the notification.

Chan’s face fills the screen, his grin already in place as he adjusts the camera. He’s shirtless, propped against the headboard of his bed, one arm draped lazily over his bent knee. The ring light casts shadows along his abs, highlighting every dip and curve.

"Late night surprise," he murmurs, "*Miss me?*" aaaand heat is already pooling low in your stomach.

His fingers work on hinseld, slow and teasing at first, thumb smearing precum in lazy circles while he talks— god, he sure does talk, filthy praises and half formed fantasies spilling from his lips like he’s whispering them directly into your ear. You bite your lip to stifle a gasp, your other hand slipping under the waistband of your pajama shorts.

Chan arches his back on screen, his free hand gripping the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you guys are greedy tonight," he rasps, stroking himself slowly. His thumb presses against the head on every upstroke, just how you’ve learned he likes it — learned from watching, from nights spent with your phone hidden under your pillow, screen dimmed to its lowest setting.

"Fuck, m'close," Chan groans, your fingers moving between your thighs in time with his rhythm, matching the pace, hips shifting under the sheets, your breath coming shallow.

It’s not the first time you’ve watched him like this, but it’s the first time you’ve done it live, with the shaky thrill of knowing he has no idea you’re here.

A whimper almost escapes you when he swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, his breath hitching. You press your palm over your mouth, stifling the sound.

The last thing you need is him hearing you through the thin walls.

The thought alone, him catching you, realizing, sends a sharp jolt between your legs. You squeeze your thighs together, chasing the feeling before it slips away.

His hand speeds up, the wet sound of his skin moving over his cock muffled only slightly by the mic's noise suppression. "God, fuck—gonna come so hard for you," he grits out, his voice cracking on the last word.

You press your free hand harder against your mouth, fingers digging into your own cheek as you watch his stomach tense, the muscles there flexing under the sheen of sweat. Your own movements stutter when he lets out a low, punched out moan, his hips jerking up into his fist.

You’re so close you can’t think straight. The coil in your stomach winds tighter with every stroke of his hand, every filthy sound he makes, matching his rhythm like you’re desperate to prove something— like if you can just finish at the same time, it’ll mean something. Stupid. It’s stupid. But your hips jerk anyway, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts against your palm.

"Fuck, fuck—" His hand stills suddenly, fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he tips his head back, you watch as his body locks up for one second — and then he’s coming, stripes of white painting his stomach, his chest.

Your own climax crashes over you at the same time, so violently you nearly choke on the gasp you swallow down, your back arching off the bed as pleasure burns through you in hot, dizzying waves.

He’s still catching his breath, his free hand dragging lazily through the mess on his stomach, fingers tracing the lines of cum with a slow, absentminded swipe.

His lips curl into that stupid, effortless smirk you’ve seen a hundred times,

"Mmm, fuck," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, still a little breathless. "You all got me good tonight."

He reaches for a towel off screen, the muscles in his arm flexing as he wipes himself clean. You watch, transfixed, as he tosses the towel aside and leans closer to the camera, cheeks are still flushed, his lashes low.

"Hope that was worth the wait," he says, eyes flickering to the chat before he grins. "gosh you guys are generous with the tips tonight." and you catch a few of the comments.

slave4u: how bout you come and give me that tip

sweetheartonline: gone broke just for you </3

Chan just chuckles, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, I’m done. You’re all insatiable." He stretches his arms above his head, his torso arching beautifully, "Next stream’s friday. Be good for me til then, yeah?"

With one last wink, he reaches forward, and the screen goes black.

You yank your earbuds out, Your chest heaves, your skin still buzzing, your thighs still sticky, and you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyelids until colors bloom behind them.

you find it ridiculous that you're actually enjoying this, perverted thoughts. Stupid. So stupid.

~

Two weeks pass after that. You're hyperaware of Chan’s presence in a way that makes your skin itch. Every casual touch sends sparks skittering up your spine.

You try to act normal, you really do.

But you catch yourself staring at his hands when he cooks, remembering the way they moved over himself on screen, and have to physically shake your head to clear the image.

Chan, for his part, seems to thrive on your discomfort. He leaves his bedroom door cracked just a little wider than necessary, and infuriatingly, he's rarely not shirtless.

it's okay. you're okay. at least you tell yourself that.

till it's Friday morning, marking the beginning of your third month.

the apartment is quiet, still bathed in the soft gold of early morning light filtering through the kitchen window. you hum under your breath as you flip pancakes.

then Chan emerges, shirtless, his sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair still messy from sleep.

He leans against the doorway, watching you with that lazy, knowing smirk. “Morning,” he rasps, voice still thick with sleep.

this feels too domestic for your liking.

“Morning,” you mumble, not turning around.

Chan pads closer, bare feet silent against the hardwood, until he’s right behind you. His warmth radiates against your back, “Smells good,” he murmurs, and you swear his lips brush the shell of your ear.

The spatula clatters against the pan. too domestic.

Chan chuckles, as he reaches around you to steal a piece of pancake from the prepared stack. His chest presses against your shoulder, his skin searing where it touches yours. “Careful,” he teases, popping the bite into his mouth. “You’ll burn them.”

The pancake batter sizzles violently as you stand there, frozen, Chan’s body heat scorching against your back.

His fingers brush your hip as he reaches for the syrup, and you nearly drop the spatula again.

"You’re jumpy this morning," Chan muses, leaning against the counter beside you. "Bad dreams?"

sure, if 'bad' and 'wet' are the same thing. "something like that."

Chan hums, tilting his head as he studies you. "Got plans today?"

You flip another pancake onto the growing stack. "Just groceries later." The words come out steadier than you feel.

His grin grows. "Mind if I tag along?"

You shrug, "It’s just errands."

Chan snags another pancake, leaning into your space until his bare shoulder presses against yours. "Exactly. Sounds thrilling." His fingers brush yours as he steals the spatula, flipping the last pancake with a flick of his wrist. "Come on. I’ll even push the cart."

You huff a laugh despite yourself. "You’ll get bored in five minutes."

"Bet?" He bumps your hip with his, "Loser buys ice cream."

~

The grocery store is exactly as mundane as you predicted, but Chan makes it unbearable in ways you didn’t anticipate — his fingers lingering when he passes you items, his chest pressing against your back in crowded aisles like it’s accidental. By the time you hit the freezer section, your nerves are frayed.

"Pick a flavor," Chan murmurs, chin hooked over your shoulder as he reaches past you to open the glass door. His breath ghosts across your cheek. "I’m feeling generous."

The freezer air hits your face, but it does nothing to cool the heat creeping up your neck. Chan’s arm brushes yours as he leans in, his fingers tracing the edge of a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "This one," he decides, plucking it from the shelf. "tastes like toothpaste sometimes, but eh" he said with a shrug.

You snort, grabbing a classic vanilla, but he plucks it from your hands and replaces it with something absurdly decadent, something with caramel swirls and chocolate chunks.

"Live a little," he grins, tossing it into the cart.

The checkout line is agony. Chan stands close enough that his knuckles keep brushing the small of your back, each touch sending sparks up your spine.

the cashier — an exhausted looking college student — scans everything, he pushed your hand aside when you tried to pay, and handed the cashier his card.

he caried all the groceries too, and swatted your hand away when you try to carry any.

it feels like he's your boyfriend.

The apartment door clicks shut behind you both, grocery bags rustling as Chan kicks off his shoes. You’re still fumbling with the laces of your sneakers when he brushes past you with the plastic bags.

You follow, already going to pull things out and putting them in their designated cupboards, Chan’s already rummaging through to find the ice cream, His grin is wide as he holds it up. "Scoops or straight from the tub?"

"freezer" you deadpan, "it's probably melted by now"

his shoulders slump a little, turning around to place the tubs in the freezer.

"and, scoops," you mutter, "We’re not animals."

he snickers, "Debatable."

Chan nudges the freezer door shut with his hip, the ice cream safely stowed away for later. "Movie night?" he suddenly asks, casual as anything, "Haven't done one in a while."

You nod, "Yeah. Okay."

You retreat to your room to change, fingers fumbling with the hem of your shirt before you even reach the door. The fabric sticks to your skin, too warm and you peel it off with a relieved sigh the second you’re alone.

The dresser drawer squeaks as you rummage for shorts and a tank top since its getting too hot, but your hands freeze mid reach when you hear Chan’s door creak open down the hall.

The unmistakable sound of fabric hitting the floor — jeans, probably — makes your throat go dry. You strain to listen, pulse hammering in your ears, as Chan hums under his breath. Something clatters, a belt buckle, and then the soft rustle of fresh clothes being pulled on.

You yank your own shorts up so fast you nearly trip, ears burning. Pathetic.

When you emerge, Chan’s already sprawled across the couch in loose joggers and that stupidly thin white tank top.

"You took forever," Chan drawls from the couch, already eating his way through a popcorn bucket.

"You're picking?" he scoffs, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "After the garbage you called 'cinema' last time?"

You snatch the remote before he can lunge for it. "You picked Twilight unironically last time."

Chan clutches his chest like you've wounded him. "Bella Swan is a cultural icon."

You scoff, scrolling through the options, ignoring Chan's dramatic sigh as he flops back against the cushions. His knee bumps yours, but you don't pull away.

"Fine," he huffs. "But if it's another pretentious indie film where people whisper for two hours, I'm revoking your movie privileges."

"Fine," you grumble back, scrolling past a dozen of said pretentious indie films with moody black and white thumbnails. "But only because I pity your attention span."

Chan's grin is immediate as he stretches an arm along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder.

"pick something with action," then wiggles his eyebrows, "Or nudity."

You elbow him hard in the ribs.

"Ow—," Chan wheezes, but he's laughing, catching your wrist before you can retreat. His fingers are warm and rough against your pulse point, thumb pressing into the flutter there. "Violent and kinky," he muses, tugging you closer until your shoulders press together. "I like it."

You yank your wrist free and snatch up the remote again, scrolling through titles.

Chan's laughter vibrates through the couch cushions as you land on something, anything, just to shut him up. The movie starts with a car chase, tires screeching, glass shattering. Perfect. Loud enough to distract whenever Chan shifts beside you.

"Action and nudity," Chan murmurs, nodding approvingly at the screen where some actor's shirt rips open during a fight scene. "You do know me."

You sink lower into the couch, arms crossed. "Shut up and watch."

The first ten minutes of the movie blur into a haze of gunfire and badly timed one-liners, the volume turned up just loud enough to drown out the way Chan’s fingers keep tracing idle patterns against your shoulder.

You focus resolutely on the screen, but Chan’s warmth beside you is impossible to ignore. His knee presses into yours, his bare arm brushing against yours every time he reaches for more popcorn, and each touch sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.

Then, during a lull in the action, Chan shifts beside you, his hand sliding from your shoulder to the back of your neck. His fingers curl gently into your hair, thumb brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"You’re not even watching," he mmurmur.

You swallow hard, refusing to look at him. "Am too."

Chan hums, unconvinced, his thumb stroking slow circles against your skin. "Liar."

His accusation hangs between you, thick and charged, and suddenly the movie feels like background noise.

His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, tipping your head back just enough that you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

His eyes are dark, there’s no teasing smirk now, no playful glint — just hunger.

Your breath hitches audibly.

Chan’s thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me to stop."

You don’t.

His lips crash into yours before you can form a coherent thought, the remote clattering to the floor as your hands fist in his shirt.

Chan groans into your mouth, fingers tightening in your hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with so much desperation.

The movie drones on, but all you can feel is the way his hips jerk forward against yours as you press closer. His hands slide down to grip your waist, hauling you halfway into his lap without breaking the kissl.

"You’ve been driving me insane," Chan pants against your lips, one hand slipping under your shirt to trace the dip of your spine. "Watching me, pretending you weren’t—fuck—" His words dissolve into a groan when you grind down against him, the hard line of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh.

He knows you know. he has all this time. The realization makes your eyes widen slightly—but it doesn’t surprise you. Not really.

Not when Chan’s fingers tighten possessively around your hips, his teeth scraping your lower lip like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

His palm slides up your ribcage, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your thin tank top, and your breath stutters against his mouth.

Of course he knew. The cracked doors, the late night streams he timed too perfectly with your schedule. Those weren't just coincidences.

You pull back just enough to see his face, your eyes wide with the realization that just dawned on you.

his lips are swollen from your kisses, panting, “Surprise,” he rasps, voice wrecked.

Chan’s grip shifts, hauling you fully into his lap, and you gasp when his hardness presses against you. His chuckle vibrates through your chest as he rolls his hips up, slow and filthy. “Thought you’d never crack,” he murmurs, lips grazing your jaw.

Your hands fist in his tank top, the fabric damp with sweat where it clings to his chest. “You—asshole” you pant, hips jerking against his involuntarily. “All that teasing—”

Chan's grin widens "All what teasing?" he murmurs, pressing an open mouthed kisses to your neck. "You mean leaving my door open just a little too wide?"

His teeth scrape your skin, "Or maybe streaming at exactly the times I knew you'd be home?" His palm cups your breast through your shirt, thumb brushing over your nipple.

You gasp when he pinches lightly, hips jerking against his. "You're insane," you manage, though the words come out more breathless than angry.

Chan laughs against your throat, before his teeth sink into the tender skin just below your ear. Your nails dig into his shoulders as his hands slide down to grip your hips, guiding your movements as you grind against him. The friction is dizzying, the thin fabric of your shorts doing nothing to dull the heat of him pressed against you.

"Insane?" His breath is hot against your damp skin. "Baby, aren't the one who watched my streams every other night?" His fingers slip under the hem of your tank top, tracing the waistband of your shorts with maddening slowness.

You whine, the sound high and desperate in your throat, and nod before you can think better of it. The admission burns your cheeks, but the way Chan groans against your skin makes it worth it.

"yeah?" he rasps, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.

Chan’s fingers flex against your waist, his breath hot against your lips. “Every fucking time,” he admits, voice rough “I’d pretend it was your hand on me,” His thumb presses into the dip of your hipbone, “Your mouth.” His gaze drops to your parted lips, then back up, heavy lidded. “You have no idea how many times I came thinking about you watching me.”

Chan exhales sharply, his nose brushing yours. “cancelled tonight’s stream,” he murmurs, lips grazing yours with every word. “would rather beg you to fuck me instead.” His palm slides up your ribcage, fingers tracing the edge of your bra through your tank top.

“You don’t have to beg,” you murmur, lips brushing his as you swing your leg off his lap. Chan exhales sharply, hands gripping your waist tighter like he’s afraid you’ll pull away entirely, but then you’re sliding to your knees between his legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of his joggers.

His breath catches when you tug them down just enough to free his cock, already hard and leaking against his stomach.

gosh he's even bigger than he looks on camera.

Chan's breath stutters when your fingers wrap around him, his hips jerking into your grip before he can stop himself. "Fuck—" His voice cracks, a hand flying to fist in your hair as you stroke him slow, watching the way his eyelids flutter.

He's hot and heavy in your palm, already slick at the tip, and the way his thighs tense when you swipe your thumb over the head is obscene.

Chan’s fingers tighten in your hair when your lips brush the head of his cock, his breath stuttering out in a ragged groan. “Fuck—fuck—” His hips jerk up instinctively, but you pull back just enough to tease, swirling your tongue over the tip without taking him deeper, and you can’t resist glancing up through your lashes to watch his face twist with pleasure.

“So loud,” you giggle, blowing a slow breath over the wetness you’ve left behind. Chan’s thighs tense under your palms. “All those streams,” you continue, stroking him lazily with one hand while the other traces the vein running along his length, “and you never moaned like this.”

Chan’s laugh comes out strained, his chest heaving. “it wasn't you,” he grits out, hips rolling up into your touch. His fingers tug at your hair, guiding you back to him with a quiet desperation that sends heat pooling low in your stomach. “Now stop teasing—”

You swallow him down before he can finish, humming around him just to feel the way his whole body jerks. His moan is filthy, unfiltered, his hips canting up into the wet heat of your mouth like he can’t help it.

You take him deeper, throat working around him, and Chan’s fingers tighten in your hair, not guiding, just holding on for dear life.

“god—” His voice cracks when you hollow your cheeks, tongue pressing flat against the underside of his cock. His other hand fists the couch cushion beside his thigh, knuckles going white. “So good—shit—you take me so fucking good—”

You pull off with a slick pop, lips brushing the flushed tip as you peer up at him, teasing, thumb swiping over the bead of precome gathered there.

Chan’s chest heaves, his abs flexing as he stares down at you, His grip in your hair tightens just enough to sting — a silent warning — but you just grin and duck back down, sucking him deep until his thighs tremble.

Chan curses, his hips lifting off the couch as you bob your head, the wet sounds obscenely loud even with the movie still playing forgotten in the background.

“Gonna—” He's cut off by his own gasp, “Gonna come if you keep—”

You pull off with a wet sound, lips slick and swollen, and replace your mouth with both hands, jerking him so fast his hips stutter off the couch, his breath coming in ragged, punched out gasps.

“Wait—fuck—” Chan chokes out, fingers scrambling at your shoulders, but it’s too late — his back arches off the cushions, muscles locking tight as he spills hot over your fingers and his own stomach.

His thighs shake under your palms, his cock twitching in your grip as you stroke him through it, slower now, milking every last drop until he’s whimpering and oversensitive, his hands weakly pushing at your wrists.

“Turn around,” Chan rasps, chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers slide from your hair to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your spit slick bottom lip. “Want you riding me.”

Your stomach flips at the command, but before you can move, Chan’s hands are gripping your waist, hauling you up onto the couch with surprising strength. He settles you over his lap in one smooth motion, your thighs bracketing his hips, and the sudden press of his bare skin against yours makes you gasp.

Chan groans, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he leans back to look at you, really look at you, his gaze dragging down your body with a hunger that makes your skin prickle.

he hooks a thumb into the waistband of your shorts and tugs, sliding them off, his breath hitching when he finds you already soaked through your panties.

"Fuck," he exhales, dragging the damp fabric aside with one finger, his touch featherlight as he traces your slit. His other hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you down until your foreheads touch, his breath mingling with yours. "You're so wet," he murmurs, voice rough with disbelief. "Just from sucking me off?"

You nod, hips canting into his touch shamelessly, his finger circles your clit —once, twice, before dipping lower, sliding into you, crooking just right to make your back arch. His free hand fists in your tank top, dragging you closer until your chest presses against his, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the way your nipples harden against him.

His thumb pressing firm circles against your clit, and your vision whites out for a second — just long enough to miss the way his free hand fists in your tank top, yanking it up until the fabric bunches just above your chest. His mouth replaces his fingers, teeth scraping over your nipple through the lace of your bra, and you gasp, hips stuttering against his hand.

“Thought about this,” he pants against your skin, his tongue lapping at the wet spot he’s left behind. “Every goddamn stream—imagined you like this, wet and desperate for me.” His finger curls again, dragging a broken moan from your throat, and his grin is all teeth when he leans back to watch you unravel. “Knew you’d be prettier than I imagined.”

You grab his wrist, stilling his movements, and his brows furrow — confused, frustrated — until you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap properly this time. His cock, half hard again, twitches against your thigh as you grind down, the friction drawing a ragged groan from both of you.

Chan’s hands fly to your hips, guiding your movements as you rock against him, his breath hot against your collarbone.

“Wanna feel you,” you murmur, fingers fumbling between you to grip him, slicking him up with your own arousal. Chan’s head falls back against the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as you line him up, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

You sink down onto him with a choked gasp, thighs trembling as he stretches you open inch by agonizing inch. Chan’s hands clamp around your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, but he doesn’t rush you —just watches as you take him deeper.

"Fuck," you whimper, nails scraping his shoulders when he bottoms out, your body shuddering at the unfamiliar stretch. "You’re—god—you’re so big—"

Chan groans, hips twitching beneath you, fighting not to thrust up. "Yeah?" His voice is wrecked, breath hitching as you clench around him. "Feel good, baby? Stuffed full of me?" His fingers trail up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts while you adjust. "taking me so good."

You roll your hips experimentally, and Chan’s head thuds back against the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "That’s it," he rasps, hands sliding to grip your ass. "Use me—ride me just like you imagined."

The words send heat flaring up your neck, but you can’t deny them, can’t stop the way your body responds, hips rolling in slow circles. Chan hisses between his teeth when you clench around him, his fingers flexing against your skin.

"Christ—fuck—you’re so tight," he grits out, eyes locked on where you’re joined. "Bet you thought about this every night, hmm? Watching me stroke my cock on cam while you fucked yourself on your fingers?"

You whimper, thighs quivering as you lift yourself halfway up before sinking back down, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. his breath stutters, his hips jerking up to meet you halfway, and the sudden shift punches a ragged moan from your throat. "Oh fuck—Chan—"

"Say it," he demands, thumb brushing your clit as you bounce in his lap. His voice is rough, wrecked, his pupils blown wide, "Tell me how much you thought about this, how many times you came imagining me inside you."

You gasp when he pinches your clit lightly, your rhythm faltering, "Every—ah—every night," you admit, nails digging into his shoulders as you grind down harder. "Watched you—touched myself—god, wanted you—"

Chan groans, fingers tightening on your hips as he guides your movements, thrusting up to meet you. "Knew it," he pants, lips brushing yours with every ragged breath.

"Knew you were getting off to me—fuck—your little gasps when I’d look at the camera—" His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing your nipples through your bra. "Bet you came so pretty for me, huh? All quiet so I wouldn’t hear?"

You nod frantically, hips stuttering as his cock hits that spot inside you, the pleasure building dangerously fast. "Y-yes—*fuck*—Chan, please—"

"Please what?" he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk even as his own breathing falters. He slows your movements deliberately, dragging you through each excruciatingly slow roll of your hips. "Need me to fuck you harder, baby?"

You whine, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to chase your own rhythm, but his grip on your hips is unrelenting. "Yes—god, yes—"

he flips you onto your stomach before you can finish begging, his hands rough and sure as he shoves your knees apart against the couch cushions. The fabric burns against your bare thighs when he yanks your hips back, his cock sliding out of you with a slick sound that makes your face burn.

You barely have time to whimper before his fingers dig into your waist, lifting you on all fours with a sharp tug — his chest presses hot against your back, his breath ragged in your ear as he lines himself up again.

he doesn’t give you a second to adjust. He slams into you with one brutal thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your elbows buckle against the cushions. His cock stretches you open deeper than before, the angle hitting deeper, and you choke on a scream when his hips snap forward again, setting a punishing pace before you can catch your breath.

Hands clamp around your hips, fingers bruising as he drags you back onto him with every thrust. The couch creaks beneath you, the sound drowned out by chan’s ragged groans and the slick slap of skin on skin. His rhythm is merciless, no teasing now, just pure, desperate need as he fucks into you like he’s been starving for it.

Chan's grip on your hips shifts — one hand sliding up to fist in your hair, yanking your head back until your spine bows beautifully beneath him. "Fuck, look at you," he growls, his voice rough with something between awe and hunger as he takes in the sight of you spread out beneath him.

His fingers tighten, pulling just enough to make your scalp prickle, before his palm cracks down against your ass, the sound echoing through the room louder than the forgotten movie still playing in the background.

You gasp, thighs trembling as the heat blooms across your skin, but Chan doesn’t give you a second to recover. His hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that has your nails scrabbling against the couch cushions for purchase. "Take it," he orders, voice wrecked, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "God, you feel so good—clenching around me like—" His words dissolve into a groan as he picks up the pace, each thrust punching a ragged sound from your throat.

His free hand slides around your waist, pressing firm circles against your clit, and the dual sensation has your vision blurring at the edges. "That’s it," he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his rhythm falters for just a second, "Gonna make you come just like this—spread out, taking me so well—"

His thumb presses harder against your clit, and your back arches involuntarily, a broken moan tearing from your lips as the pleasure crests suddenly, violently.

Chan curses, his grip tightening as you clench around him, your body shuddering through the waves of it. "Yeah, there you go, gonna cum for me?"

You nod vigorously, your fingers twisting into the couch cushions as Chan’s thrusts turn erratic, his breath ragged against your ear. "Cum with me," he rasps, and it’s all you need.

Your body clenches around him like a vice, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense your vision whites out for a second. Chan groans, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a broken gasp, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.

Chan pulls out slowly, hissing through his teeth when you clench around him reflexively, oversensitive.

The couch cushions are damp beneath your trembling thighs, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat as you collapse onto your stomach, chest heaving. Chan exhales sharply, running a hand down your spine, before flipping you onto your back, more gently this time.

The shift makes you wince, your body still thrumming with aftershocks, he slides off the couch onto his knees between your legs. His palms skate up your inner thighs, spreading them apart with slowly despite your weak protest. "Shh," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. "Just wanna taste you."

You squirm when his breath ghosts over your sensitive skin, but Chan’s grip tightens, holding you open. "Chan—" His name comes out hoarse, your voice wrecked. "I’m—ah—too sensitive—"

Chan’s fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open despite your squirming. His tongue flicks over your clit, just enough to make your hips jerk, oversensitive and trembling.

“You can take it,” he murmurs against your skin, “You’re a big girl, yeah?” His teeth graze your inner thigh, before his mouth closes over you again, and your back arches off the couch with a choked gasp.

You can take it. You do.

Every swipe of his tongue sends sparks shooting up your spine, your fingers twisting into his hair — not to pull him away, but to keep him right there, his mouth working you through the dizzying aftershocks of your orgasm.

Chan hums against you, the vibration making your toes curl, and his grip on your thighs tightens when you try to press them together instinctively. “None of that,” he chides, nipping at your skin before dragging his tongue up your slit again, “Just let me have you.”

You whine, hips caving into his mouth despite the oversensitivity, the pleasure tipping into something almost painful, but you don’t tell him to stop. Couldn’t if you wanted to.

"so sweet," he groans against you, the words vibrating through your oversensitive nerves. His fingers dig into your hips, pinning you down when you try to squirm away from the intensity. "No— stay still."

You whimper, but obey, letting him spread you wider as his tongue delves deeper, circling your entrance before dragging back up in one long, torturous lick.

"Chan—please—" you gasp, but you’re not even sure what you’re begging for — him to stop or never, ever stop.

His response is to hook your leg over his shoulder, angling you deeper into his mouth, and then he’s sucking you in, his tongue working you with precision. You sob his name, your hips jerking uncontrollably as the pressure builds again, too soon, too much—

You choke out his name, fingers scrambbling at his shoulders, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, before your hips jerk violently against his mouth.

“Chan, gonna—oh god—” The warning spills out brokenly, your thighs clamp around his head as you come with a shuddering gasp, your back bowing off the couch as pleasure rips through you.

he groans against you, the vibration wringing another broken sound from your throat, he doesn’t pull away, just laps at you greedily, his tongue dragging through the mess you’ve made of him with slow strokes.

“Fuck,” he rasps against your skin before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “You’re perfect like this.” His thumb brushes your clit once, testing, and you jerk with a gasp, your body still thrumming with aftershocks.

Chan grins up at you, all dark eyes and swollen lips, before dragging his tongue up your slit one last time.

Chan rises from between your thighs with a groan, his lips slick and glistening with you, you realize with a jolt — before his mouth crashes into yours, the kiss filthy and possessive, his tongue licking into your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, sticky with sweat, and he moans into your mouth when you tug — sharp, just to feel him shudder.

You pull away eventually, both of you panting, sticky with sweat and other things, and collapse onto the couch in a tangle of limbs. Chan drags you half on top of him, your head resting against his chest where you can hear his heartbeat still racing beneath his skin.

His fingers trace idle patterns along your back, the movie’s credits roll, forgotten, casting flickering shadows across the ceiling.

You nuzzle into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat slowing down, the rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek. His skin is warm and slightly sticky, and you press a kiss to it without thinking, smiling when his fingers pause for a second before resuming their path along your spine.

"Quit staring," you murmur, tilting your head up just enough to catch him watching you with an expression that makes your stomach flip. soft, almost awed, Chan huffs a laugh, his thumb brushing your hipbone where he’d gripped hard enough to leave marks earlier.

"Can’t help it," he admits, voice rough with exhaustion "You’re kinda fucking gorgeous like this."

You snort, but your cheeks heat anyway, and Chan’s grin widens when he notices. He shifts beneath you, rolling just enough to tuck you more firmly against his side, his arm a solid weight across your waist.

The movement makes you wince, your thighs ache in a way that’s equal parts delicious and punishing, and Chan’s fingers tighten reflexively, his smirk turning smug.

"Sorry," he lies, and you bite on his shoulder just to hear him yelp.

his yelp dissolves into laughter, his fingers digging into your sides as he squirms away from your teeth. “Fuck, ow,” he complains, but his grin ruins the effect, “You bite hard—should’ve known you’d be a menace.”

You grin against his shoulder, pressing another kiss to the reddening mark you left behind. “Payback,” you murmur, tracing the outline with your tongue just to feel him shiver. Chan groans, his hips jerking reflexively beneath you, and you freeze when you feel him stirring against your thigh—already half hard again.

“Seriously?” you ask, incredulous, and Chan has the audacity to look proud, his smirk widening as he rolls his hips up against you.

“What?” he teases, voice dripping with false innocence. “Can’t help it—you’re right there, all warm and fucked out—” His hand slides down your back, fingers skimming the curve of your ass before squeezing lightly. “And you bit me. That’s basically foreplay.”

You press a hand to Chan’s chest when he tries to roll you beneath him again, your thighs still trembling from the last round. “Shower,” you mumble, and Chan makes a wounded noise against your collarbone in protest.

“Five more minutes,” he tries, lips trailing up your neck like he’s trying to convince you with his mouth.

You laugh, breathless, and squirm out of his grip before he can distract you properly. “No—shower,” you insist, swatting at his hands when they try to drag you back. “We’re disgusting.”

Chan pouts — actually pouts, like this big hunk of a man didn't just fuck the daylights out of you — and flops back against the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, but his eyes track your every movement as you stand, snickering when you wobble slightly on unsteady legs.

You stumble towards the bathroom, then you glance back at Chan, sprawled across the couch with his arms behind his head, watching you with that stupid, smug grin, and ask, "When’s your next stream again?"

his grin falters into confusion when your question registers. "Monday," he says automatically, his brows furrowing, "Why?"

You hum, "Just thinking," then you shrug, "maybe I’ll join you next time."

he's caught off guard when you leave him hanging and close the bathroom door behind you, "don't start something you can't finish!"

you hadn’t been informed of… well… that.

moving in with your best friend changbin had seemed like the most natural decision in the world. rent prices were ridiculous and your previous lease had ended at the worst possible time, and one night over dinner, changbin had mentioned that his apartment had a spare room now that his friend seungmin had moved out.

“just move in with us”, he had said as he shoved another piece of meat into his mouth, “it’ll be fun and you’ll save money. and i know hyunjin won’t mind either”

that seemed easy and simple, the perfect solution.

you’d known changbin all your life and you trusted him blindly. somehow your friendship had stuck despite your completely opposite personalities and years later he was still the first person you called whenever something good or catastrophically bad happened. naturally, that meant you also knew most of the people in his life, including hwang hyunjin, changbin’s roommate and his closest friend, apart from you obviously. 

hyunjin is also the ridiculously attractive man you’ve spent years pretending you don’t have the world’s most embarrassing crush on, but that’s not really important right now. because really, what is there to say? only that hyunjin is unfairly beautiful.

hyunjin is the kind of person who looks like he’s walked out of a fashion show every single day. long dark hair one day and then the next one, a blond buzz cut - you still remember the gasp you let out when you saw him that day - still looking like a model, with his oversized clothes and his expensive rings decorating his elegant fingers. your favourite part of him is his eyes, the same eyes that somehow manage to look both intimidating and impossibly soft depending on who he is looking at. 

you’d met him more times that you could count - birthday dinners, movie nights, karaoke sessions, late night convenience store runs, group vacations. just everything, because if you’re part of changbin’s circle that means you’re part of everything he does.

hyunjin is easy to be around, quiet at first but surprisingly playful once he gets comfortable. a little dramatic and clumsy, yes, but ridiculously affectionate with the people he loves, even if he sometimes pretends not to be. you’ve watched him and changbin bicker over lots of things like an old married couple more times than you care to admit. 

but nothing has ever happened between hyunjin and you, and nothing will ever happen, you had accepted that years ago. your crush exists quietly in the background of your life like a song you occasionally remember. 

is it embarrassing? absolutely.

is it manageable? mostly.

but living with him… well, that certainly could complicate things a bit. 

on moving day, you’d found them halfway through another one of their ridiculous arguments because hyunjin had apparently put together the new desk in your room while changbin supervised which, according to hyunjin, actually meant getting in the way. but as soon as they realised you were there, hyunjin looked over at you with that tiny amused smile of his and his eyes bright.

“welcome home”

he said two words, simple and friendly, yet somehow they’d settled somewhere annoyingly warm inside your chest.

the next few days passed as you unpacked your stuff and tried to get used to your new home, but everything else felt normal and comfortable, exactly like you’d imagined living with them would be like. it was nice, really nice, and you could already tell living with them was going to work, which is probably why what happened later caught you so completely off guard. 

you had been living with them for a week or so. dinner had been cleaned up and hyunjin had disappeared into his room saying he had some work to do, closing the door behind him. you hadn’t thought much about it because you knew he worked from home, something related to computers. that was all you knew, you’d never asked more and it wasn’t really your business if he never explained or said anything else.

you were sitting on the sofa with changbin as you tried to choose a movie when he suddenly paused halfway through scrolling.

“y/n, i forgot to tell you something”

those words rarely lead to anything good.

you narrowed your eyes, “what?”

he scratched the back of his neck, “so…”

“so?”

“you know hyunjin works from home, right?”

“... yeah?”, you asked him, not knowing where the conversation was going.

“well, sometimes, you’ll probably hear… things”

you looked at him, still not understanding anything, “what things?”

changbin looked towards hyunjin’s closed door before lowering his voice for absolutely no reason.

“i just thought you should know what he actually does”

“okay?”

“he… uh…”, he said as he rubbed his face, “hyunjin’s a camboy”

silence. 

complete and utter silence.

“he’s a what?”, you asked him.

“a camboy”

you stared at him and he stared back at you. surely you had misheard. maybe he had said cowboy? yeah, that had to be it.

“no”, you said slowly, “i definitely heard that wrong”

“you didn’t”, he said, still looking at you.

“he’s… a… like…”, you said as you made a vague gesture with both of your hands, “a camboy?”

changbin nodded his head, “yeah”

“so he does, what… livestreams?”

“yeah”

“and people pay?”

“yeah”, he said again.

“that hyunjin?”, you said as you gestured towards his bedroom.

changbin snorted, “yes, that hyunjin”

your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, “okay, i… i mean… wow”

you replayed every time hyunjin casually excused himself saying he had work before he moved to his room or every time he didn’t go out with all of you because he stayed home working.

you had always assumed, well… anything except that. you weren’t opposed to it, that wasn’t the issue here. people could do whatever they wanted to do, and if that worked for him, then good for him.

it was just unexpected, wildly unexpected.

things should have ended there, after that conversation with changbin, because it wasn’t really your business and hyunjin was still hyunjin. learning what he did for work didn’t suddenly change everything about him, or at least, it shouldn’t have.

and yet, the following days proved to be considerably more difficult than you expected because every single time you looked at him, you remembered your conversation with changbin.

there hyunjin was, standing in the kitchen as he prepared breakfast.

he’s a camboy.

hyunjin was sitting on the sofa, his sketchbook balanced on his knee as he draw something while watching a movie.

he’s a camboy.

hyunjin walked past you in the hallway with his hair damp after a shower.

“good morning, y/n”

“good morning, hyunjin”

he’s a camboy. 

you hated it, genuinely, because it was unfair, you didn’t want your perception of him to now revolve around his way of living. people were more than their jobs. if changbin had told you hyunjin was a chef, you wouldn’t spend every waking moment imagining him in a kitchen. so why was your brain being so incredibly unhelpful now?

every time the thought appeared, you tried to shove it away. hyunjin’s your friend and now your roommate as well, he’s the same hyunjin you’d known for years. 

but as the days passed, little questions kept appearing out of nowhere.

how long had he been doing it?

how had he even started?

did many people watch him?

how did any of it even work?

then, the questions started to get more and more explicit. you had never watched a livestream of this type, but you knew enough, and your imagination worked wonders too.

did he show his face?

was he completely naked?

did he have weird kinks?

so when one night hyunjin disappeared into his room after dinner saying he had to work, your curiosity finally got the best of you. a couple of hours later, when hyunjin and changbin were sleeping in their rooms, you lay on your back on your bed, the sheets pulled up to your waist, as you stared at the ceiling with your phone in your hands.

you couldn’t stop thinking about hyunjin, and what he may have been doing just some hours ago, so before you even realised you were actually doing it, you unlocked your phone and tried to search his page. 

you hadn’t asked changbin the name of hyunjin’s page or his account or whatever he used, absolutely not. asking your best friend for information about another friend’s work, and especially that kind of work, felt invasive. 

and there was no way you could ask hyunjin himself.

“hey, so… what’s your username?”

you physically cringed just imagining it. no, never. 

all you had was his name, and you knew it was a long shot, but you still tried anyway. you tried a couple of pages first, all of them obviously wrong, just low quality clips and guys who looked nothing like him. then, by some miracle, you found the right link and his page loaded. before you even realised what you were doing, you were already watching him stroke his cock on camera while your own fingers worked deep inside your cunt until you came around them. 

you hadn’t meant to do that. honestly, you just wanted to see how he did it, to answer the questions that had been burning in your head, but it was as if you were hypnotised from the moment you saw him and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

the next days, it was impossible to stop. every night you pulled up his page again and watched his old livestreams until you came hard around your fingers, biting your lip to keep you from moaning his name out loud. you saw the new ones too, the ones he did just as he disappeared into his room after dinner some nights. you saw those once he had finished streaming, when you were sure both of the boys were sleeping and they couldn’t suspect what you were doing in your room. 

each time you came just from watching him, just hearing him say “fancy seeing you here” at the beginning of every single live had you already dripping for him, your clit throbbing before he even touched himself, before you even touched yourself. 

what was even more difficult was living with him and changbin as if nothing had changed. sitting at the kitchen table while hyunjin made coffee, pretending you hadn’t spent the previous night with your fingers inside your cunt to the sound of his groans. pretending you didn’t stare at his long fingers wrapped around his mug and wondered how they would feel inside you, stretching you open. every casual brush of his arm against yours sent heat flooding between your legs, every single time he looked at you, you had to look away, you couldn’t stare at him for longer than a second.

you hadn’t been informed of that and now, you didn’t know how to keep hiding this any longer.

you’ve been living with the boys for a month now, and things have just gotten worse, you can thank your imagination for that. the boys still have no idea what you do behind doors, but your little situation has not improved, not even a little bit. that’s why every time you have the chance to focus on something else that’s not hyunjin or his fingers or his cock or his lives or anything related to him, you take it and run away with it. 

but of course, your plan backfired today.

you had spent the morning at work, counting down the hours until your shift ended. nothing exciting happened, just a handful of emails and a couple of meetings, the usual. once you finally clocked out, you met one of your friends who was already waiting outside your office and you both went to eat together.

the original plan had been to have lunch together and then spend the rest of the afternoon shopping but unfortunately, halfway through lunch, your friend started to look paler and then she told you she was not feeling good and that she thought she should go home. you had nodded your head and told her to rest, that you would catch up other day, whenever she felt better.

after making sure she’d booked a ride home safely, the two of you hugged goodbye outside the restaurant and you watched her leave. you considered continuing with the shopping alone, but then, rain started pouring down and seeing that you were definitely not dressed for that - you were wearing a summer dress and a pair of high-heels - you decided to put an end to the shopping trip and go home earlier than you had planned. 

as far as you knew, changbin wouldn’t be home for hours. he’d mentioned over breakfast that work was going to run late and after that he planned on heading straight to the gym before coming back. knowing him, he probably wouldn’t be home until sometime after midnight. 

hyunjin… well, you had no idea, his schedule was always harder to predict and you hadn’t asked him what his plans were today. 

now, after a walk in the rain, you enter the apartment and close the door behind you, leaving your shoes at the entrance and letting out a relieved sigh as your feet finally touch the cool wooden floor. but then, you hear something, a faint sound, so quiet you can’t tell where it came from. you frown and listen for another moment, but there’s nothing there, just silence.

you shrug it off, run your hand through your hair and then start walking towards your room but just as you’re halfway down the hallway, you hear another sound, this one clearer. your steps slow a bit and then you realise it came from hyunjin’s room, which was closed.

almost without thinking, your feet carry you towards it, trying not to make any noise at all. you stop outside his door and then lean towards it, tilting your head and holding your breath until you hear his voice, clear enough this time.

“fancy seeing you here”, you hear him say through the door.

your entire body freezes. you know that sentence, you’ve heard it before, more than once. it is the way he greets his viewers.

oh.

oh.

he is doing a livestream right now. 

you take a hurried step backwards as though the door itself had burned you. you didn’t expect this and you know you are not supposed to be here. you had just come home early because your plans had fallen apart.

if your friend hadn’t gotten sick…

if it hadn’t started raining…

you wouldn’t have been anywhere near the apartment.

you look towards the front door. leave, that’s what your mind tells you. you could go and maybe sit in a café for a while, or you could go to a bookstore, just anything, but then you look towards the windows in the living room and you see how unrealistic that idea is. the rain lashes against the glass in thick sheets and the sky has turned almost black. going back outside right now isn’t exactly appealing.

you exhale slowly. okay, fine, you will stay home. you could just go to your room or take a long shower or maybe watch a movie or cook something. you could do literally anything else, just anything that kept your mind occupied.

you stand there for another second, trying to convince yourself that this is a perfectly ordinary afternoon, that hyunjin is simply working and that what he is doing is none of your business, that you can completely ignore it.

you already know, however, that your own mind isn’t going to make that nearly as easy as it sounds. 

when you step inside your bedroom and close the door, your thoughts refuse to behave and images start flashing behind your eyes: his long fingers wrapped around his cock, his abs tightening when he’s close, his groans that always push you over the edge, his hand moving to push his hair away as his bicep becomes the only thing you can focus on. you press your thighs together, trying to ignore the growing heat between them.

then you hear a loud groan ripping through the walls, the sound raw and needy, hitting you like a spark and your self-control snaps. you drop onto your bed, your phone already in your hand as you pull up his livestream. once it starts working, you see he’s still wearing his boxers, but his hand is inside them, stroking his cock, as the chat explodes with comments and donations. 

user69: take your cock out

edgequeen: i will beg if you want me too

cumslut: i want you to fuck my face 

“you’re all so needy today. i bet you’re all dripping for me”, he says, his voice low and teasing, “do you really wanna see how hard i am for you right now?”

you’re completely soaked, and not just from the rain now. you watch his hand move under his boxers again, the outline of his cock clear as he gives it a firm squeeze.

princessonline: please show us your cock

user69: you’re edging me so bad i’m gonna come

he smirks at the comments and then hooks his fingers into the waistband and pushes his boxers down, his cock springing free and already leaking. 

you don’t even think, you shove your panties down your legs and kick them off, keeping the dress on because you’re too desperate to bother about that now. your fingers slide straight between your folds, finding yourself already slick and swollen.

hyunjin wraps his hand around his cock and starts stroking properly, smirking at the camera, “you like watching me play with my cock like this, huh? you want me to go faster?”

cumslut: yes pls

user69: i want you to come inside me

princessonline: my sheets are soaked

he speeds up a little, his thumb swiping over the tip and spreading the precum down his length as he keeps talking, and every word he says makes you even wetter. you push one finger inside you and then another one, imagining they’re his fingers, stretching you open the way you’ve fantasised about for weeks now. your hips roll up to meet your hand while you watch his hand on his cock.

he keeps talking, his voice rougher now, “fuck, i’m getting close. wanna see me coming? wanna watch me paint my stomach while you all come with me?”

user69: YES 

cumslut: i wanna lick you clean

edgequeen: please fuck me

his hand moves faster, the tip of his cock disappearing into his fist again and again. your fingers move in time with him, your thumb rubbing your clit as your thighs shake and your breath comes in short gasps. you see how his abs tighten and his hips jerk and then he comes hard, his cum streaking across his stomach and chest while he groans loudly.

the sight pushes you over and your climax crashes through you. your cunt pulses around your fingers and before you realise, a moan escapes you, too loud, probably the loudest you’ve ever moaned. you slap your hand over your mouth, praying that hyunjin hasn’t heard you, you don’t want him to know you’re home, much less what you are doing. you see hyunjin panting and smiling lazily at the camera, coming down from his high.

you don’t wait to see what he does or to hear what he says next, you close the livestream so fast that your phone nearly slips from your hands. the only thing you can hear is your own breathing and your heart beating so fast you’re sure it’s gonna fall out of your chest.

has he heard you?

you had heard him groaning and moaning during his livestream today, which means that it’s possible - more than possible if you’re honest - that he has also heard you. you squeeze your eyes shut and just hope and pray that he hasn’t, you honestly have no idea how you would deal with that.

but there is no point spiraling, you can’t undo anything now, the damage is already done. you set your phone on the bed and then sit completely still, listening.

nothing.

then, after some minutes of sitting and waiting, you hear movement outside your bedroom. a door opening, then footsteps and then another door. you hold your breath until you hear the rush of running water echoing through the apartment. 

he’s in the shower.

you let out a slow breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

okay, think y/n. 

if he had heard something, wouldn’t he have come looking?

wouldn’t he have knocked on your door? to check what was that noise?

instead, he’d gone straight to shower. maybe everything is fine and you’re just panicking over nothing. you look towards your door and think again, because you need to act normal. hyunjin knew you’d planned to be out all day, but there was no reason you couldn’t simply arrive home now.

he is in the shower and you could just leave your room and go to the kitchen, and if the two of you happened to run into each other then you’d smile and say hello, mention the rain and tell him that your plants had been cut short.

it was perfectly ordinary, entirely believable.

you stand up and smooth the wrinkles from your dress before walking towards your door. you take one last steadying breath and then open it, making sure that he’s still in the shower before you leave your room. you pad quietly towards the kitchen and once you get there, you open the cupboard, grab a glass and fill it with cold water.

you lean against the counter and take a long sip, letting the cool water settle your nerves as you stare at the rain tapping against the windows. everything’s gonna be fine, you just need to stop overthinking, but you are so absorbed in your thoughts that you completely tune out everything else. you don’t hear the shower stopping, you don’t hear the bathroom door opening and you definitely don’t hear footsteps crossing the hallway.

“hey, y/n”, you suddenly hear hyunjin’s voice, “i didn’t see you there”

you spin around so fast the glass nearly slips. hyunjin is standing a few feet away, a towel slung low around his hips as droplets slide down his chest and stomach. you force your eyes up to his face, heat crawling up your neck.

“hi, hyunjin”, you manage to say, your voice thinner than you wanted.

you can’t quite look at him, not when every inch of exposed skin reminds you exactly of what you just watched him do.

he tilts his head, looking at you, “weren’t you gonna be out all day?”

you nod your head, feeling your nerves growing inside you again, “yeah. but um… my friend, uh… she got sick and then the rain started, so… yeah, we cut the plans short”

your gaze keeps drifting back to his chest despite yourself. to the way water trails over the defined lines of his muscles, catching on one of his nipples before continuing lower. you force yourself to turn away, setting the glass down on the counter, trying to calm yourself down.

hyunjin hums and then you hear him move and you think he’s leaving, that he’s going to his room to put his clothes on. but then you feel him, just behind you. he’s suddenly close, so close that his bare chest nearly brushes your back. the heat of him radiates through the thin fabric of your dress and his breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, his lips barely grazing your skin as he speaks.

“did you enjoy the show?”

your whole body locks up. you don’t answer him, you can’t, but he doesn’t need you to, he already knows.

“oh, don’t tell me you thought i wouldn’t hear you moaning from your room, sweetheart. besides, i knew it was only a matter of time. i know changbin told you what i do, so i figured sooner or later you’d break”, he says, as he gets closer to you, “what? you didn’t think i had noticed the way you look at me? at my fingers? you really have no idea, sweetheart”

each word presses his lips closer to your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. one of his hands comes up and he places it on your waist, just to remind you how close he is. the towel around his hips moves with every slow inhale, the fabric barely holding on. you can feel the hard line of his cock through it, pressing against your back as he leans in even more.

“i already know you watch my livestreams”, he says, “and i know you touch yourself watching me. i know you soak through whatever clothes you wear. and today? sweetheart, i heard you as soon as you entered the apartment, but hearing you moan and come while i was stroking my cock for the camera… fuck, that almost made me lose it right there”

his other hand trails up, his fingertips skimming the side of your neck before he tucks a strand of damp hair behind your ear.

“you were so loud, y/n, you couldn’t even cover it up in time. i bet your pussy was clenching around your fingers while you watched me come all over myself”, he says, getting even closer to you, “did you wish it were my fingers instead? or my mouth? or maybe it was my cock inside that tight cunt as you took every inch of me?”

he moves his hips, letting you feel his hard cock nudging against you through the towel. his lips brush the sensitive spot just below your ear, almost a kiss now.

“i’ve been waiting for you to slip up”, he says, “every time you looked at me across the table, every time your eyes dropped to my hands… i knew exactly what you were thinking. i knew you were imagining my fingers inside you, making you drip down my wrist. and now you’re here, and i bet you’re soaked not just from the rain, and you’re trying so hard to pretend you’re not desperate for it”

his hand slides lower, pulling you back against him. the towel is the only thing between his bare cock and the thin material of your dress and you can feel every twitch, every pulse as he hardens further. he rocks his hips against you once, letting his length drag along the curve of your ass.

“still not saying anything, sweetheart?”, he teases you, his teeth grazing your earlobe, “that’s okay, your body is doing all the talking. i bet if i reached under this dress right now i’d find you dripping. you want me to check? you want me to see how soaked you are for me, sweetheart?”

he doesn’t wait for permission, he just lets his fingers trace the hem of your dress, toying with the fabric, lifting it inch by inch. the cool air of the kitchen kisses your thighs, making you shiver. his other hand stays firm on your waist, keeping you pinned between him and the counter.

“tell me the truth, y/n”, he whispers, his voice now rough with want, “did you come harder thinking i might hear you? did it make you even wetter, thinking about me in my room, stroking my cock while you had your fingers deep inside you at the same time?”

his lips press a slow and open-mouthed kiss just behind your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. his towel slips a bit lower on his hips, the tip of his cock now unmistakably hard and hot against you. he grinds forward again, letting you feel it.

“i’m still hard”, he says, “i came so hard thinking about you watching me, but it wasn’t enough. not when i knew you were right there, with your fingers inside you, wishing it was me. you want me to finish what i started? you want me to fuck you until you can’t stay quiet anymore?”

his hand finally slips beneath the hem of your dress, his fingers trailing up the inside of your thigh, stopping just short of where you’re aching for him. he pauses there, breathing hard against your ear, waiting and teasing you, letting the anticipation stretch until your legs tremble.

“say the word, y/n”, he murmurs against your ear, “or i will keep telling you every little thing i’ve wanted to do to you since i first saw you. your choice”

your lips part on a shaky breath, his name slipping out before you can stop it.

“hyunjin…”, your voice comes out soft, but the way your hips twitch back against him betrays how badly you need more.

he chuckles low against your ear, “what do you need, sweetheart?”, he says as his fingers continue brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, so close yet still denying you, “tell me. use your words”

you swallow hard, your voice barely above a whisper, “i-i need you. p-please, hyunjin… i need you”

the second the words leave your mouth, his hand slides higher. he expects to meet the thin barrier of your soaked panties, but instead his fingers glide straight through your slick and bare folds. a deep and guttural moan rips from his throat, hot and filthy against your ear.

“fuck… no panties? you’re gonna be the death of me, y/n”, his voice cracks with raw hunger as two of his fingers part your soaked lips, dragging through the mess you’ve made of yourself, “you were standing here with me, dripping down your thighs with nothing covering this greedy little pussy? christ”

his middle finger circles your clit once before sliding lower to tease your entrance. he presses just inside, feeling how wet and ready you are and another broken sound escapes him.

“you’re soaked, so fucking wet for me already, sweetheart. did you come that hard earlier just from watching me? or were you saving this for when i finally touched you?”

you can’t answer him, you’re sure you’ve even stopped breathing at some point. his fingers are already working you open, sliding through your folds. he presses two fingers inside you without warning, knuckles deep in one smooth thrust, and your knees nearly buckle. hyunjin catches you with his arm around your waist, holding you while he moves his fingers in and out of you.

“that’s it”, he says, his teeth scraping your earlobe, “take my fingers, sweetheart. let me feel how tight you are. i bet you’ve imagined this every single time you watched me”

his thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles while his fingers thrust deeper and faster. the towel around his waist is barely hanging on now, the hard length of his cock pressed against your back, twitching every time you clench around his fingers. 

you turn your head just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his for the first time since he caught you, and when you speak, your voice comes out hoarse and desperate.

“i need you, hyunjin. right now”

something in his gaze snaps and finally, he crashes his mouth against yours in a hard and searing kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips to claim every inch. his hand stays buried between your legs, his fingers still moving inside you as he devours your mouth. you moan into the kiss, your hips rolling down onto his hand, chasing the friction.

he breaks the kiss and pulls his fingers out of you, turning you around so he can growl against your lips.

“legs around me”, he says.

before you can process it, his hands are under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. your legs wrap around his waist, your dress riding up as your bare and soaked cunt presses against his stomach. the towel slips lower with the movement, barely clinging to his hips as he carries you down the hallway towards his room. 

when he closes the door behind you, he lays you down on his bed and for a moment he just stands there, looking down at you, his hair still damp, his chest heaving and the towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, the thick outline of his cock straining against it.

“fancy seeing you here”, he says, his voice low and teasing, the exact same line he uses at the start of every livestream.

the words hit you like a spark and you reach up, fisting the front of the towel to yank him down on top of you. your mouths meet again, hotter this time, your tongues sliding together as his body covers yours. his hands are everywhere - sliding up your sides, gripping your waist, throwing his towel off and then finally tugging your dress up and over your head. your bra comes next, his eyes dark as they rake over your bare body.

now there’s nothing between you, and you can feel his cock, thick and flushed, against your body. he settles between your spread thighs as he keeps kissing you like he’s savouring every second before he finally takes what you’ve both been waiting for. his hands keep roaming greedily over your skin, his hands sliding up your ribs to cup your breasts and his thumbs circle and pinch your nipples until they stiffen under his touch.

you arch into him, your fingers threading through his hair and tugging hard to pull him closer while your other hand grips the back of his neck, your nails digging into the muscle there. your hands move down his back, feeling every flex of his shoulders as he grinds his body against yours, leaving a hot smear of precum on your skin.

he breaks the kiss and pulls back just enough to smirk down at you while you chase his lips with a needy whimper. your hips roll up, seeking friction, but he moves away, denying you.

“tell me what you want, sweetheart”, he says, “come on, say it”

you whisper his name first, your voice showing how desperate you are, “h-hyunjin…”

he chuckles and lowers his head to kiss and bite along your neck, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin before sucking hard enough to leave marks.

“more than that, y/n. tell me exactly what you want”, he says as his lips trail lower, biting at your collarbone as your moans fill his room, your body trembling under his.

your voice cracks as you gasp, “i-i need your fingers… p-please”

“good girl”, he says against your throat before he moves his face just enough to kiss you again.

you feel one of his hands moving down your body until two of his fingers slide through your folds and then he pushes them inside you. he starts curling them, stroking your sensitive spot while his thumb focuses on your clit. your walls clench around his fingers, your juices coating his hand as he moves his fingers faster.

he kisses you through it all, his tongue pressed against yours as his fingers fuck you harder, stretching you open. your climax builds fast, your thighs shaking until it crashes over you, and you come hard on his fingers, letting out a broken cry that is swallowed by his mouth as your arousal drips down his wrist.

hyunjin pulls his fingers out of you, glistening with your release.

“open up”, he says as he presses his fingers to your lips.

you part them obediently, sucking his fingers clean and tasting your own cum as he watches you with dark eyes. he pulls them out of your mouth, only to slide them back inside your still-twitching cunt for a few more thrusts, drawing out more of your wetness. he pulls them out again, bringing them to his own mouth this time, his tongue licking every drop from his skin with a low groan. 

he kisses you again, his tongue sweeping deep into your mouth as he shares the lingering taste of your release.

“fuck, you taste so good”, he says against your lips, “but i need to taste you better, sweetheart”

his body moves lower, his mouth trailing wet kisses down your throat and stomach until he finally settles between your spread thighs. his hands grip your hips firmly and then he dives straight in, his tongue flattening against your sensitive clit before moving into your dripping cunt.

“hyunjin!”, you scream at the sudden intensity as his mouth devours you.

your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard, while your other hand claws at his shoulder, desperate to anchor yourself. he doesn’t hold back, his tongue fucks into your folds with relentless strokes, lapping up every drop of your wetness, sucking your swollen clit between his plump lips and flicking it mercilessly.

you look at him and the sight makes your head spin - his eyes are half-closed in bliss, his face buried in your cunt and his jaw moving as he eats you like a man starved. you’re still twitching from the previous orgasm, overly sensitive, but the sight of him drowning in your cunt sends fresh arousal flooding out, coating his chin and making you even wetter. 

he pauses just enough to look at you, only to find you already looking at him and he growls against your throbbing clit.

“that’s it, sweetheart. keep your eyes on me”, he says and then his tongue moves back to your entrance, his nose pressing against your clit with every movement, with his eyes still on yours.

your hips buck against his face but his strong hands pin you down, pulling you closer to his face so he can bury himself deeper.

“hyunjin… i- oh god… i’m gonna come”, you gasp, your voice breaking as you feel the next orgasm coming, your walls clenching around nothing but his relentless tongue.

“come for me”, he says, his voice muffled against you but his eyes never leaving yours, “come all over my mouth”

his words shatter you and your orgasm rips through your body right then. your cunt pulses and gushes onto his tongue, your juices spilling out in hot waves that he eagerly swallows as you squirt all over his face. his hands move your hips even tighter against his face, holding you there as he drowns in you, as his tongue continues moving against you until you’re trembling and shaking beneath him.

hyunjin’s mouth lingers between your thighs for one last lick, his tongue dragging through your folds to gather every trace of your arousal before he starts moving again. his lips press wet, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thighs, then higher across your hipbone, leaving a glistening trail of saliva and your own arousal on your skin.

he moves slowly, savouring every inch of your skin, his breath hot against your stomach as he kisses you there, his tongue dipping into your navel for a teasing second. your body shakes under him, still pulsing from the intensity of coming on his tongue, and on his fingers before, and he groans when he feels your muscles twitching.

he continues moving, his mouth closing over one of your nipples to suck hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive peak before releasing it. he moves to the other and his tongue swirls there, lapping at the hardened bud while his hands slide up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. 

he reaches your mouth again, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he devours you with the same hunger he showed your cunt moments ago, his body settling over yours and his cock pressing heavy against your thigh. 

“such a good girl for me”, he murmurs against your mouth between kisses, his voice rough with lust, “you came so hard on my tongue, squirting all over my face. fuck, you’re perfect”

your hand moves downwards, your fingers stretching towards his cock and desperate to wrap around it and guide him inside you. but hyunjin catches your wrist before you can touch him, his grip firm, yet controlled.

“shh, sweetheart”, he whispers against your lips, “not yet”

he moves both of your hands above your head, pinning them there with the strength of just one of his hands, his long fingers easily encircling both. the position leaves you stretched out beneath him, your chest heaving, completely at his mercy.

he keeps kissing you, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth while his free hand roams your body. his lips trail from your mouth down to your neck, where he sucks at the pulse point, his teeth scraping over your sensitive skin before he soothes the spot with his tongue. 

the sensation drives you wild. you start rubbing yourself against him, your hips rolling up desperately, and your cunt grinding along the underside of his cock in search of friction. the tip catches against your clit with every desperate thrust of your hips, sending sparks through your already oversensitive nerves.

“please”, you beg him, “h-hyunjin, please… i need you inside me. just… fuck me, i can’t take it anymore”

his free hand moves to grip your chin firmly, tilting your face up so your eyes meet his.

“open up”, he says again, his eyes locked on yours.

you part your lips, your mouth falling open as he leans closer to you. he lets a string of spit fall from his mouth directly onto your tongue, warm and thick, and the moment it lands you moan loudly. he moves to kiss you again, his tongue pushing into your mouth to mix with the spit he just gave you, swallowing your desperate sounds as he devours you all over again.

his hand releases your chin and slides down between your bodies. you feel the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance, sliding through your drenched folds once, then again, as he coats himself in your juices before he pushes forward. he enters you, stretching your walls as he sinks inside with one long and controlled thrust, filling you completely until his hips are flush against yours.

he doesn’t give you time to adjust, he starts moving slowly, pulling back and sinking in again, making broken moans spill from your lips.

“fuck”, he growls against your ear, his hips moving in a steady rhythm, “you’re so wet for me, sweetheart, you’re dripping”, with each sentence comes another thrust, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, “you feel so fucking good wrapped around me”

your moans grow louder and needier, your body arching up to meet every snap of his hips against yours, “hyunjin- i… more, p-please… harder-”

he chuckles against your ear, the sound vibrating through his chest where it presses against yours, “you want it harder? greedy little thing. you’ve been watching me fuck my hand on camera and now you need the real thing, don’t you?”, he says as his pace stays controlled and teasing, “say it, y/n. tell me how bad you need my cock”

“please”, you whimper, without realising the tears that escape your eyes, “i need it- i need you to fuck me harder, please, hyunjin- let me… let me touch you”

his free hand moves to your hip, gripping hard enough to bruise but you don’t fucking care.

“you’re such a good girl, begging for it. and you know what, sweetheart? good girls get what they want”, he says and then releases your wrists.

the moment your hands are free, they move to his hair, your fingers tangling in the damp strands and yanking him down into a desperate kiss. your tongues slide together, messy and hungry, while your legs wrap tighter around his waist, your heels now digging into his back to pull him deeper inside you.

hyunjin groans into your mouth and finally lets go of the slow pace. his hips snap forward harder and faster, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room, mixing with your loud and shameless moans.

“that’s it- fuck”, he says, groaning against you, “you’re so tight, sweetheart. you were made for me”

you tug harder on his hair, pulling him even closer as you kiss him again. every thrust knocks the breath from your lungs, his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you over and over again until your vision blurs. you’ve never felt anything this intense before, your whole body lights up with every stroke, pleasure coiling again tighter and tighter inside you. 

hyunjin pulls back just enough to look down between your bodies. his eyes darken as he watches the way your stomach bulges slightly with each deep thrust, the outline of his cock pressing up against your belly.

“look at that”, he moans, his voice wrecked, “i’m so deep inside you i can see it. fuck, that’s the hottest thing i’ve ever seen, you’re the hottest thing i’ve ever seen, y/n”

he presses his palm flat against the bulge and the pressure makes you cry out, a fresh gush of wetness soaking his cock and the sheets under you. you look down to see it and the added pressure and the sight of it send you spiraling. your walls clamp down around him like a vice, gripping him so tightly he curses loudly.

“shit- y/n, fuck- you’re gripping me so hard-”, he says as his rhythm falters for a second as he fights to keep control, his hips stuttering against you, “f-fuck, you’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that”

he leans down again, capturing your mouth in another kiss before he pulls away just enough to speak.

“look at me”, he says with a low voice, “eyes on me when you come, sweetheart. i wanna watch you fall apart on my cock”

you force your eyes to stay on his, meeting his intense gaze. his thrusts grow erratic, deeper and harder, the tip of his cock battering that spot inside you relentlessly.

“h-hyunjin, i’m- i-”, you start to say but you can't because another moan escapes you.

the pressure builds too fast and your mouth falls open on a silent scream as your orgasm finally crashes over you. your cunt pulses and flutters around him, squirting again, soaking his cock and thighs as you moan his name over and over.

his eyes never leave yours and the sight of you coming undone under him, with your walls gripping him, pushes him over the edge. he thrusts inside you one more time and then he comes as he spills deep inside you, flooding your cunt. his forehead drops to yours, both of you panting, your eyes locked as you ride out the aftershocks together, your bodies trembling against each other. 

hyunjin’s mouth descends again and his lips move against yours while his hips give one last, shallow thrust inside you. the movement drags his softening cock through your oversensitive walls and you wince sharply, a tiny whimper escaping into the kiss. 

“shh”, he murmurs against your lips, the sound low and soothing, “i know, sweetheart, i know”, he presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another to your jaw, “you must be so sensitive right now. let me take care of you”

he eases out of you with careful slowness, the tip of his cock slipping free with a wet sound and making your thighs twitch. cum immediately starts to trickle out of your cunt, warm and thick, sliding down between your cheeks and onto the sheets. hyunjin watches the mess with satisfied eyes before he rolls onto his back and reaches for you. his strong hands grip your waist and lift you, pulling your body on top of his so you’re pressed together once more.

you sink down against his chest and he pulls you into another kiss, much slower and deeper this time, almost tender. the frantic pace from moments ago melts into something softer, more intimate. his tongue moves against yours, exploring your mouth, and the change makes your head spin. this is not the same hyunjin who just pinned you down and fucked you senseless. this hyunjin is gentle, almost sweet, and the change leaves you dizzy with how much you crave both sides of him. 

he breaks the kiss only to trail his mouth along your cheek, his voice teasing, “so… you’ve watched me stroke my cock on camera as you got yourself off to every word i said?”, he says as his fingers trace idle patterns on your lower back, “turns out my pretty roommate has a filthy little crush, huh?”

heat floods to your face and then you try to hide against his neck, but hyunjin catches your chin between his fingers and tilts your head back up, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“hey”, he says softly, the teasing gone from his voice, “don’t worry, i’m just as crazy about you”

he leans in and kisses you again, slow and sweet, swallowing any protest you might have made.

“i haven’t stopped thinking about you since i first met you. and ever since you found out what i do, every time i went live i would wonder if you were watching me, and i would hope you were touching yourself to me”, he continues. 

your lips meet again, the kiss turning deeper and wetter. his hands slide down to your ass, gripping the soft flesh and gently rocking your body against his. his cock, still a bit hard and slick with both of your releases, nudges between your folds. the tip brushes your swollen clit and you wince again, a soft hiss escaping you.

“sorry”, he whispers against your lips, stopping his movements, “too much?”

you pull just enough to shake your head, smiling down at him, your face soft and still a little dazed.

“no… it’s okay. i just… i need a minute”, you say as you push up on shaky arms, looking at the mess of sweat and cum on both of you, “i think i’m gonna have a shower”

hyunjin’s mouth curves into a wicked little grin and before you can move off him, he sits up, wraps his arms around your waist and stands up, lifting you with him. your legs instinctively wrap around his hips as he carries you towards the bathroom, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

“shower with me, sweetheart. we’ll get clean and maybe… we can go for another round”, he nips at your earlobe, his words making your stomach flip.

you laugh against his skin, the sound bright and breathless, and then you move your face just enough to look at him before you pull him down into another kiss as he steps into the shower and reaches for the water.

the spray hits both of you at once, the water warm and soothing against your bodies, but neither of you lets the other go. your lips stay locked together, your tongues sliding slow and deep while his hands roam your wet skin, already promising more.

a/n: fancy seeing all of you here my loves 😎 i can't believe there's only one fic left of this event!! i hope you're all ready and if not well good luck then 😏

the library

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🌟

dividers by my darling @lariesographic 🩷

you are horny and have been all day.

it’s as simple as that.

you’ve been on holiday for almost a week now, stuck in this family getaway with your cousins running around all day as all of your parents chat nonstop. there’s only two days left until you’re finally back in seoul, back to your normal life, but right now that feels like an eternity.

the restlessness clings to you like a second skin, making everything feel wrong and frustrating all at once. you can’t shake it, that dream that you had last night keeps replaying in your head, pulling at your thoughts no matter how hard you try to push it down. jeongin was there in your dream, your best friend, the same friend you’ve crushed on for longer than you’d admit even to yourself. in your dream, he was fucking you and touching you like you wanted him to and now, your body won’t let it go.

the unrequited part stings the most because you know he doesn’t feel the same way about you, and you know that telling him how you feel risks losing what you already have. it’s better to keep him close as your friend than risk having nothing at all, at least that’s what you think. but the desire burns anyway, mixing with that pain of knowing it’s one-sided, leaving you aching in ways you can’t show. 

you shift in your seat during another meal with your family, trying to focus on the conversation, but your mind drifts back to how the dream made you feel seen and wanted by him. this is not the first time this happens and if you have to be honest, this constant loop of longing and restraint is exhausting. 

the ache between your legs has only grown worse during the day, your thighs pressing together under the table in a futile attempt to ease the throbbing. you need to do something about this, anything to take the edge off before it drives you insane. your mind keeps flashing back to your dream, to jeongin’s hands on you, but you push it aside again.

your mum leans over, smiling as she tells you that everyone is heading out for dinner at a nearby spot that night, something casual and fun to wrap up the day. the idea of sitting through another long meal surrounded by your family makes your stomach twist with frustration and that’s when the lie slips out easily.

“my head hurts”, you say as you rub your temple, “i think i will stay in tonight”

she frowns, concerned about you, and the rest of your family chimes in with questions and offers to stay behind with you. it takes a few minutes of gentle convincing, assuring them it’s just a headache, that you’ll be fine alone and that they should go enjoy themselves, and eventually they give in. some hours later, they grab their things, close the door behind them, and the house finally falls into silence as their voices fade down the driveway.

you’re finally alone. 

you move to your room and lock the door as you enter. your body feels like it’s on fire, every nerve alive with anticipation. your dream isn’t the only reason why you’re like this and you know it, you know exactly why you’re so turned on right now and it’s because your favourite camboy goes live every week at this exact hour. it’s not the first time you see his lives, not even close. you’ve watched almost all of them, your fingers buried deep inside you while his hands stroked his cock on screen, never showing his face, not that you really cared if you’re honest.  

you sit on your bed with your phone ready and you feel your nipples already tight and your cunt wet, your body sensitive from the day’s constant arousal. the livestream is about to start and just thinking about it makes your body tremble. your thoughts drift back to your dream for a moment, mixing with the camboy, but right now all that matters is the livestream that’s about to begin and the orgasm you’re chasing to finally quiet this relentless heat. 

the livestream begins and the boy appears from the neck down, shirtless, his chest on full display under the soft lighting. it’s not too long before the comments start flooding the chat as well as the donations.

cumslut: been waiting all week for this

princessonline: show us how hard you are 

his hand dips beneath the camera frame and then comes up wrapped around his already half-hard cock as he groans. you can’t take it anymore, you tug your shorts and panties down impatiently and then your fingers finally part your folds and you push two fingers inside you, moving them in time with his strokes on screen, imagining it’s his cock stretching you instead.

edgequeen: he’s so big

user69: i wish you were in my throat

he strokes his cock from base to tip, his balls tightening visibly as he grows fully erect. the veins stand out along his cock as the tip keeps leaking steadily. you lie back and then your hips lift off the bed, fucking your own fingers harder. you add another finger, the stretch burning as your juices coat your palm and drip down your body onto the sheets. moans bubble up from your throat every time he groans on screen, his deep sounds making your walls clench around your fingers.

you picture yourself riding him, sinking down on that cock until it hits your deepest spots, his hands gripping your hips while he thrusts up into you and never stops. his hand starts moving faster, the sounds of his stroking matching the noises coming from your cunt. your thumb rubs circles over your clit, your orgasm building fast and hot in your core now.

the unrequited ache for jeongin flickers through your mind for a moment, how badly you wish it was him wanting you like this, touching you like you’re touching yourself, but you shake the thought off and then focus on chasing your release. 

user69: fuck he’s so hot

princessonline: i wanna ride that cock

you look at him, his fingers spreading what his cock is leaking and that’s enough to tip you over. your fingers curl against your spot inside you as your cunt spasms and gushes around them. a broken cry leaves your lips at the same time that the boy’s cock jerks hard as he comes, his cum painting his skin as he milks himself through it with those same guttural groans. 

cumslut: fuck i wanna use my tongue to clean you up

you lie in your bed panting as you start to come down from your orgasm, your body still trembling as you pull your fingers out of you. you see the boy trembling too, his hands moving to grab onto something until he catches his breath, and then, he does something new.

he leans back, the camera angle shifting just enough to reveal his face for the first time, and at that moment, jeongin’s familiar eyes meet the lens. he winks once and then ends the livestream. the screen goes black and your reflection stares back at you, your own wide eyes showing how stunned you feel.

no, no, that couldn’t have been-

your finger shakes as you tap the screen, trying to refresh the page as though somehow that wasn’t the real ending and there was something else, as though your mind had imagined a face that wasn’t really there. of course, nothing happens and the only thing left now is your racing heartbeat.

“... j-jeongin?”

his name barely leaves your lips, sounding foreign in the silence of your room. your best friend, the one you’ve spent countless days with, the same jeongin whose smile has become your favourite thing in the world, the same jeongin that sent you photos of all the hironos he saw because you always said that they reminded you of him.

nothing could have prepared you for this, not a thousand guesses or a million possibilities. if someone had asked you an hour ago to name every person on earth who could secretly be the anonymous camboy you watched, jeongin would have been the very last name to cross your mind.

“oh my god”

you bury your face in your hands as every single livestream flashes through your memory all at once. you think about all the nights you had spent with him after the livestreams finished, the times he had texted you asking if you wanted to grab dinner together, the times he had complained about being tired without ever explaining why, the days he had mysteriously disappeared for a bit before replying to your texts again. 

heat crawls up your neck until your ears feel like they’re on fire. you remember the number of times that you thought about jeongin while you had your fingers buried inside you as you watched the livestreams, how your mind would drift towards him, and then guilt replaces part of the embarrassment that you’re feeling right now, because it is one thing to watch someone and fantasise about your best friend, it’s another thing to watch your best friend with his hands on his cock for everyone to see. 

did he know you watch him?

no, he couldn’t, he had no way of knowing you were one of his viewers. your username wasn’t connected to your real identity and you never sent any comments or donations. you never interacted outside of simply… watching. 

logically, there was no reason he would ever connect you to his account, but logic isn’t helping you right now, your imagination is and your imagination is cruel. 

what if he’d recognised something?

what if there had been some tiny clue?

what if you had ever said something that you don’t remember now?

what if-

“no”, you say as you shake your head and then you force yourself to breathe.

your mind drifts back to the ending, to his wink, and you wonder why he did that today, what made him decide to show his face when he’s never done that before. you keep staring blankly at your phone as the minutes pass, for longer than you realise, as your thoughts circle endlessly.

should you pretend nothing happened? 

should you never mention it?

should you stop watching his livestreams?

would you even be able to look him in the eye when you got back to seoul? 

would he notice something was different?

it’s in the middle of these thoughts when your phone suddenly rings so loud that you jump on your bed, the sound slicing through the silence. your heart lurches when you look at the screen and you see a facetime call filling the screen.

it’s from jeongin, of course.

your breath catches as the phone continues ringing in your trembling hands. normally, you’d answer as soon as you saw him calling you, but today, your thumb hovers uselessly over the screen, not letting you answer it.

you can’t face him, at least not right now. the ringing continues and you imagine him waiting on the other side, completely unaware of the storm currently unfolding inside your head. the call ends and the silence crashes back into your room. another wave of guilt washes over you because you never ignore his calls, never. if anything, he’s usually the one who forgets to answer sometimes because he leaves his phone god knows where.

you inhale slowly through your nose, hold it and then exhale. it helps you a bit but your pulse is still far too fast. you push yourself upright on the bed, only then becoming painfully aware of your current state - you’re still half naked. you stand up and walk towards the wardrobe, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear and some shorts before you move to the bathroom attached to your room. 

you lean against the sink for a second, staring at the mirror and you barely recognise yourself, your cheeks still flushed and your eyes still open wide. you turn on the tap, splashing cool water over your face and then you grab a towel, cleaning yourself up. once you’re clean enough, you put the panties and shorts on before you return to your bed, sitting cross-legged on it with your phone resting in your lap. 

you stare at jeongin’s contact for nearly a minute - you could pretend you never saw his call or you could text him instead, saying you were out and couldn’t talk right now, but you decide against it because you know that would only make things worse, he’d already know something was wrong. 

you take one deep breath and then press the button and before the second ring can even start, jeongin appears on your screen.

“finally!”

his grin is immediate, warm enough to soften inside you the part of you that was screaming at you not to do this. his hair looks slightly damp, as though he’d showered not too long ago.

“hey”, you manage to say.

his smile widens, “you missed my call”

“i know”, you say before you clear your throat, “i was… in the bathroom”

“it’s fine, don’t worry”, he says, and then he studies your face, his smile softening almost imperceptibly, “you okay?”

your stomach tightens because he’s too observant, he’s always been that way with you.

“yeah, i’m fine”

“you sure?”

“mmhm”, you say, nodding your head.

“you don’t sound very convincing”, he says.

you force a small laugh, “yeah, i just… didn’t sleep much last night”

his eyebrows lift, “really?”

“yeah”

“are you that excited to see me again?”, he says, teasing you now.

“oh no, i’m already dreading it”, you say, making him laugh, which relaxes you a tiny bit.

“well, in that case, then i don’t wanna see you either”, he says and you shake your head laughing now.

the knot in your chest loosens ever so slightly and for a few precious minutes, everything almost feels normal. he tells you what he has done these past days without you - even though you’ve texted each other constantly - and you tell him everything you’ve done and seen during your holidays with your family.

the conversation is no different from the ones you’ve always had, flowing in the familiar way you’ve built over years of friendship. it’s easy and effortless and yet, every time he smiles, your thoughts threaten to drift, and every time he looks directly into the camera, you’re reminded of a different screen, a different moment.

you hate that your brain keeps making that connection. you don’t want to feel as though there’s a new wall between the two of you, you already had to deal with your crush on him for now to-

“y/n?”

you had been trying so hard to act naturally that you hadn’t even realised you had stopped responding.

“what?”

you see his smile fading a bit, “you sure you’re okay?”

you try to smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes, he can see it.

“yeah”, you say, but he doesn’t believe you.

he scratches the back of his neck, “you keep zoning out”

you hadn’t even realised, “i-i’m sorry”

“it’s okay, i just…”, he says, his voice light as his eyes remain fixed on your face, “i know you and i know something’s bothering you”

jeongin waits patiently on the other side of the screen, giving you the space to answer if you want to and you find yourself wondering whether you’re capable of looking him in the eye and pretending, just a little longer, that nothing has changed. he looks at you a bit more and then speaks again.

“you know what? let’s have a drink”

you raise an eyebrow, “a drink?”

“mmhm”, he nods his head.

“you remember i’m not in seoul, right?”

“i know, but just because you’re not here doesn’t mean we can’t drink together”, he says as he gestures towards his phone, “we’ve got facetime”

you stare at him, “are you serious?”

“yeah”, he nods his head again.

you think about it, how it may help your mind stop spinning for a while, forget what happened during the live. jeongin seems to notice your hesitation.

“oh, come on”, he says as his smile softens, “we can just hang out like we usually do, no pressure”

“okay”, you hear yourself say, you don’t even realise the word has escaped your lips.

his face immediately brightens, “perfect! do you have beer and soju?”

“yes, my uncle bought a few bottles yesterday”

“okay, go and get them!”

you shake your head smiling and then leave your room, carrying your phone with you all the way. when you get to the kitchen, you open the fridge and find some cans of beer on the top shelf and an unopened bottle of soju.

you pick both up and lift them towards the camera, “found them!”

“me too!”, he says as he shows you his drinks, “now, go back to your room”

“bossy”, you say, which makes him laugh.

you pick up a glass and then go back to your room. once you’re inside, you reach for the lock and then lock your room again. you’re not really sure why you do it but you don’t dwell on it either. you return to your bed and sit down with your back against the headboard. at the same time, you see jeongin sitting back down on his sofa before he looks at you again and smiles.

“ready?”, he asks you.

“you remember that i’m a total lightweight, right?”

his grin grows wider, “oh… i forgot”

“no, you didn’t”

he laughs again, “of course i didn’t, you always get very… talkative”

“i do not!”

you absolutely do.

he’s still laughing and you can’t help laughing with him. he reaches offscreen and returns with one glass.

“so, the important part now… beer first and then the soju”

both of you work at the same time: you open the beers first, pour them carefully and then reach for the soju bottles and pour that one too, tiny bubbles rushing to the surface of your glasses as the drinks mix together.

you look at your glass as you only hope that the alcohol will quiet your thoughts before your heart decides to say something you’re not supposed to.

“cheers”, jeongin says as he lifts his glass towards the camera.

you mirror the gesture, holding yours up as if you were actually sitting across from each other.

“cheers”

of course the glasses never touch, but you both smile anyway before taking your first sip. you both talk as you drink, the conversation never stopping, something that hasn’t changed from the day you first met. the heaviness from earlier becomes easier to carry, it’s not gone but you feel yourself a bit more relaxed and calm now.

however, every now and then, your eyes drift towards his face, especially his smile, and every single time, your thoughts threaten to wander somewhere they absolutely shouldn’t, so you pull them back before they can.

“round two”, jeongin says as he notices both of your glasses are empty.

you prepare your drinks again, like you did before, beer first then soju but just as you’re doing it, jeongin speaks again.

“easy”

you stop, “what?”

he points at your glass, “that’s a bit too much, don’t you think?”

you look at your glass and then shrug your shoulders, “it’s fine”

he takes a sip of his glass before looking back at you.

“just… go easy, okay? i think you’re getting a little tipsy”

“i’m okay, don’t worry”, you say as you finally stop.

“... okay”, he says, “small sips”

“yes, dad”

“i knew you’d say that”, he says as you take a sip from your drink.

“you walked right into it”

the second glass disappears faster than the first one and even though you’re not fully drunk, the careful filter you usually keep over your words begins to feel… thinner, making you stop overthinking every word that leaves your mouth, which leads to you not realising what you say before you actually do it.

“i really needed this… my head has been annoying me all day… and it was your fault. well, yours and your stupid livestream”

jeongin’s smile fades, shock replacing it instead, “my what?”

“your livestream”, you say again, not fully realising what you’re saying, “the one you just did”, you say as you wave your hand vaguely, as if that explains everything, “i didn’t know it was you because, well… you had never shown your face before”, you say, as a laugh escapes you, “but also last night… i had a dream about you, and i… i couldn’t stop thinking about you all day so yeah… this is all your fault”

he looks at you carefully, as though trying to decide whether to ask something or not, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, because he’s completely lost.

“y/n, wha-”

you look up at the screen as you cut in, “jeongin, i have a crush on you”

at that moment, your own words echo inside your head and you finally realise what you’ve just done.

“oh”, you say, your stomach dropping and the alcohol haze evaporating all at once, “oh no… i-”, you clap a hand over your mouth, “i did not just say that”

jeongin is still staring at you so you take the opportunity to speak again.

“i-”, you begin as you shake your head rapidly, “forget i said anything, please. i…”, you squeeze your eyes shut, “i wasn’t supposed to tell you like this, or to tell you at all. i know you don’t feel the same way and this is probably really awkward, i just…”

“hey”, he says, his voice gentle making you stop talking, “y/n, look at me”

reluctantly, you do, and even though you can see the surprise on his face, there’s something else there too.

“i have a crush on you too, y/n”

“... what?”

a tiny smile appears on his face and then he chuckles, “i’m serious, i like you, y/n”

“you’re joking”

“i’m not”

you stare at him, searching his face for any sign that he’s teasing you but you don’t find one there.

“i never wanted to risk losing our friendship so i never said anything”, he continues.

you look at him, not knowing what to say, not knowing if this is real or not, maybe you drank more than you thought.

“but, y/n… what you said, about you watching my livestreams…”

you freeze, “oh no…”

his smile returns, and this time it’s a smile you’ve never seen on his face, and you know that whatever happens now is gonna change everything.

“you watched them often?”, he asks you and when you don’t answer him, he hums, “i’ll take that as a yes”

your face grows hotter under his gaze, his eyes locking onto the camera with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. you’ve never seen him like this and you have to admit that you like it, a bit too much maybe. 

“tell me what you do during my lives, y/n”, he says as he leans in closer. 

your body freezes and your heart starts pounding so hard you can feel it in your chest. his words make your cunt clench and you feel wet again, your arousal starting to drip down your thighs. he smirks, clearly enjoying the power he has on you even through the screen.

“darling, it’s not fair that you get to see everything i do while i don’t even know a damn thing about how you get off to it”, he says, “go on, show me”

you’re not sure how your conversation turned into this, but you don’t fucking care. heat floods your face and pools lower, your body responding to him and his words instantly. the dominance in his tone makes your cunt ache, and without thinking, your fingers move to your shorts, moving over your swollen clit over the fabric, letting him see what you’re doing through the screen.

“that’s it, darling, i can almost see you getting wetter from here. keep going, and tell me exactly how you touch yourself to my livestreams”

you swallow hard, your voice barely a whisper, “i… i rub my clit and push my fingers inside while you stroke your cock. i-i get so wet it drips everywhere”

he hums and smirks, “mmhm. i think it would be so much better if you showed it to me instead of just saying it”

your hand slides under your t-shirt, gripping your breast over your bra before you trail it down to press against your shorts again. you grind your palm over your clothed cunt, feeling the damp spot grow as you rock your hips.

“that’s cute, but not what i meant”, he says, his voice dropping even lower now, “you’ve seen me completely naked, it’s only fair i see you naked too. take those clothes off. now”

shivering with a mix of embarrassment and how incredibly turned on you are, you obey him, taking off your t-shirt and bra first, letting him see your breasts, your nipples already hard and begging for attention. then you take your shorts and panties off, leaving you fully naked on the bed, your legs spread open and wide towards the phone.

jeongin groans at the sight, “perfect. now touch yourself and let me hear those pretty sounds”

your fingers move to your now exposed cunt, circling your clit and making sparks shoot up your spine. the cool air hits your wet folds, making you even more sensitive as you spread your legs wider for jeongin to see.

“fuck, it feels so good”, you moan as you slide two fingers down to tease your entrance before pushing them inside.

“describe it to me, y/n”, jeongin says, his eyes dark and hungry on the screen, “tell me how good you’re feeling right now and what you’re thinking about while you fuck that tight hole”

“you”, you gasp out, adding another finger and moaning louder as they slide in without any resistance, “i’m thinking about you and your cock, how much i want it stretching me open instead of my fingers”

jeongin’s smirk widens, “that’s my girl. keep going, tell me how badly you need me”

“i need you so much”, you whine, curling your fingers to hit that sensitive spot inside you, “i need your mouth on me, your cock, just… anything, p-please- jeongin”

he chuckles darkly, “i wanna lick you clean, darling, bury my tongue in that dripping pussy and taste every drop of you while you scream my name”

your walls flutter around your fingers at his words, another gush of wetness soaking your hand, “i wanna see you too”, you beg him, your eyes locked on the screen now, “please, show me your cock”

“but have you been a good girl?”, he teases you, “do you deserve it?”

“yes”, you moan as your orgasm builds fast, “i’ve been so good, watching you and touching myself just like this every time”

jeongin can see the way your body tenses, your thighs shaking and your moans pitching higher as you near the edge.

“stop”, he says, “don’t come yet. not until i’m ready to come with you”

you stop, pulling your soaked fingers out with a frustrated whimper, your cunt clenching around nothing now, so close to your orgasm that it hurts. your eyes plead with the camera, begging silently as your chest heaves. but then you see how he moves back and then takes all of his clothes off, his hand moving to his cock and spreading the precum beading at the tip.

jeongin’s hand wraps tightly around his thick cock and your eyes lock onto the sight, your naked body still spread wide on the bed, your pussy throbbing from the denial.

“look at you, darling”, he says, his eyes fixed on your cunt through the camera, “you must wanna put that pretty mouth to use on me right? wrap those lips around my cock and suck me down while you finger that soaked pussy?”

“yes, fuck yes”, you beg, your voice cracking.

your hand twitches towards your clit, desperate to touch yourself again, but jeongin’s sharp tone cuts through.

“stop. hands off. don’t you dare touch yourself until i say so”

you whimper in frustration, pulling your fingers away just as they brush your folds, your cunt clenching emptily and sending another trickle of arousal down your thighs. your nipples ache and you arch your back, moaning at the image of him jerking off for you. he strokes his cock harder now, his hips thrusting into his fist.

“that’s it”, he says, “keep moaning for me. imagine my cock stretching your throat, fucking your face while you choke on it”

your body trembles, your thighs shaking as you fight the urge to move your finger back inside you again. every stroke he makes makes your cunt flutter, you’re so wet it’s pooling beneath you.

“p-please, jeongin, i-i need it”, you whine, your voice breathy and desperate, “i need you, i… i need to come”

he chuckles again, slowing his strokes to edge himself, “not yet. be a good girl for me and wait”

your begging intensifies, your hips bucking against nothing as you tell him how badly you want him, but he denies you again when your hand slips too close without you realising.

“stop”, he says again and you do, panting, your orgasm hovering right at the edge and then, when his breathing grows ragged and his cock swells in his grip, he groans louder than before, “now, finger yourself again. make that pussy come with me”

you don’t wait any longer, you move three fingers deep into your soaked cunt while your thumb circles your clit. more moans pour from your lips, mixing with his grunts as his hand moves faster around his cock.

“fuck, yes, think about my tongue licking every drop from your pussy”, he says and that is enough to push you over.

your orgasm hits explosively, your walls clamping down on your fingers as you squirt around them, your juices coming out in waves that soak the sheets. your vision blurs, your body convulsing with pleasure while jeongin groans loudly, his cum coming out in thick ropes across his stomach and hand as he comes with you. you both ride it out together, your screams echoing as his release paints his skin and your cunt keeps pulsing and dripping endlessly.

once your orgasms end, you both stare at the screen, your chest heaving and your faces red.

“that was… intense”, you whisper, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you look at the mess between your legs and realise what has just happened.

jeongin smirks, wiping his cum slowly, “you were perfect, y/n, don’t overthink it. just watching you come like that for me and thinking you’ve done that every time, i… fuck-”, he leans closer, his voice softening but still dominant, “when do you arrive in seoul?”

“in two days. at 6”, you reply, still catching your breath.

“good. i’ll take you out for dinner that night”, he says, his eyes gleaming, “and if you’re good enough, i’ll give you a private show later”

a/n: we didn't have our maknae ON top but he's still the best top 😎 thank you so much for reading again, only three to go now: my han girlies get ready for the ride hip hip

the library

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🌟

dividers by my darling @lariesographic 🩷

the café near the campus is always crowded after the afternoon classes. students occupy almost every table, their laptops open beside their half-finished coffees and all of the conversations blending into one constant hum. 

han sits next to you, lazily stirring the whipped cream into his coffee even though it’s already completely mixed. felix sits in front of you, his bag already abandoned on the floor, while hyunjin sits next to him, stretching in his chair like he has absolutely nowhere else to be. 

“so”, felix says, “are we officially dead?”

hyunjin laughs, “i’ve been dead since the year started”

“you’re so dramatic”, han says.

hyunjin points at him, “says you!”

han raises an eyebrow, “i’m not dramatic”

you shake your head with a laugh, “jisung… you are just as dramatic as hyunjin”

he gasps and felix grins shamelessly.

“i can’t believe you two”, han says as he looks at you then at felix, shaking his head before he takes a sip of his drink, “you two are awful friends”

“no, we’re amazing friends”, felix corrects him. 

you laugh again and then start talking about your classes and your professors and the impossible amount of reading that each of them somehow believes is reasonable - it’s not, you all stand by that.

“i have an exam next monday, a presentation the day after, then another exam the following day, and two reports due before friday”, hyunjin says as he sighs and places a hand over his chest.

you blink, “how are those all in the same week?”

he shakes his head, “i don’t know. i’m honestly thinking about jumping off of very tall somethings”

“did your professors plan it together?”, felix asks him.

“i think they formed a secret committee", hyunjin says.

han chuckles, “the committee against student happiness and free time”

“exactly”, hyunjin says before he sighs and then raises his coffee, “to surviving another semester”

you all laugh and lift your cups.

“to surviving”

you clink them together and then continue talking, or maybe complaining is a more appropriate word for what you are doing there. as hyunjin and felix are talking about the exam felix took the other day, han sighs and then leans back in his chair.

“our shift tomorrow starts at seven”, he tells you.

you groan, “please don’t remind me”

felix hears you talking and then winces, “oh, are you two opening again?”

you and han work together in the café and even though today it’s your day off - which is something that happens once in a while - you work there most of the days, your shifts always together.

“yeah”, you say as you lean back in your chair like han did.

“didn’t you close last night?”, hyunjin asks.

“we did, yeah”, han says, nodding his head.

“and you have to open tomorrow? that’s evil”, hyunjin says.

“it pays”, you say with a shrug.

“barely”, han mutters.

you sigh and take another sip of your drink.

“everything okay?”, felix says as he looks between you.

han gives a small shrug, “yeah”

“you sure?”, hyunjin asks this time.

han exhales through his nose, “yeah, it’s just… tuition”

you lower your eyes to your coffee, “my payment deadline is next month”

“mine too”, han says.

felix frowns, “i thought your jobs at the café were helping”

“they help”, you say, “they just don’t help enough”

han rubs the back of his neck, “there’s so much stuff going on that comes before that, like groceries, our books… and by the time everything’s paid, well… there isn’t much left”

hyunjin’s face softens, feeling a bit sorry for you both, “i didn’t realise it was that bad”

“we didn’t really tell anyone”, you say.

“it’s embarrassing”, han says.

“it shouldn’t be”, felix says immediately, “a lot of students struggle with tuition”

“i know but it just feels…”, you say as you try to find the correct word, “frustrating”

han lets out a quiet laugh without any humour in it, “we keep picking up extra shifts, but then we miss study time and if we study less, our grades suffer”

felix sighs, “it’s a never ending cycle”

you both hum, none of you disagreeing because that’s what is currently happening. 

“there has to be something”, hyunjin says as he taps his fingers against his coffee cup.

“we’ve tried everything: scholarships, financial aid, selling old books or stuff… but nothing”, han says.

“maybe another job?”, felix asks.

you smile weakly, “i don’t think there’s enough time in the day. we already work here almost every day”

“including weekends”, han adds.

hyunjin watches the two of you for another second before he speaks again, “what about making money online?”

han looks at him, “online?”

“yeah”

han snorts, “you overestimate how interesting we are”

“no, what i’m trying to say is…”, hyunjin says, “there is one type of livestream that makes people a lot of money”

“what do you mean?”, you ask him, feeling a bit lost. 

hyunjin scratches the back of his neck, suddenly looking amused by his own suggestion.

“you know…”, he says as he gestures vaguely with both hands, “that type of livestream”

you and han exchange equally confused looks and then felix, unlike hyunjin, doesn’t dance around the subject. 

“have sex on camera”, he says it plainly. 

you stare at hyunjin then at felix, convinced for a second that you misheard him, “... what?”

han blinks and his mouth opens slightly before closing again, “you can’t be serious”, he finally says.

hyunjin shrugs, “i’m serious”

you feel heat immediately rush to your face, “so you’re saying…”, you begin before your own sentence trails off.

hyunjin winces a little and then raises his hands a bit as to defend himself, “i mean- it was just an idea”

“an idea? you call that an idea?”, han repeats, his voice climbing an octave.

“you said you need money”, felix says.

“yeah, but we didn’t ask how to destroy our dignity”, han says as he moves his hands around.

“i didn’t say you had to actually do it, it was just an idea”, hyunjin says slowly, trying to calm you both down.

han lets out an incredulous laugh, “i can’t believe we’re even having this conversation”

you risk a glance at him and unfortunately, he looks at you at exactly the same moment. your eyes meet for less than a second and then, you both look away again, an awkward silence settling over you.

hyunjin raises his hands again, “hey, it was only an idea, okay?”

“we’re not forcing you to do it”, felix continues.

“i just threw it out there because people really do make good money”, hyunjin says. 

“yeah, and it isn’t always…”, felix speaks again, searching for the right words, “just, you know, people having sex on camera”

han slowly looks up, “what do you mean?”

“i mean that there are different kinds of livestreams”, felix continues, “sometimes people just… kiss and make out, others touch each other a little, and yeah, others have sex. there are viewers for all of it, you don’t necessarily have to go all the way on camera if you don’t want to”

han sits perfectly still beside you and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s just as uncomfortable as you are. not because of what hyunjin and felix are saying, but because your brain immediately pictures the impossible scenario: you and han, together, having sex while strangers watch you. 

you squeeze your eyes shut for the briefest moment before forcing the image away.

“that’s insane”, han says, but you can tell his voice lacks the certainty it had a minute ago.

felix doesn’t argue, “i’m not saying it isn’t, i’m just saying people do it”

you keep staring at your drink as han looks at felix and hyunjin, none of you daring to look at each other.

hyunjin looks at you before he speaks again, “you don’t have to decide anything right now, we’re not trying to pressure you”, he says, as felix nods his head, “it was just something that came to mind. just think about it and if you hate the idea that much, then that’s the end of it”

neither han nor you respond, you simply sit there, your eyes fixed anywhere except on each other, while the conversation dies away and the thought lingers far longer than either of you wants to admit.

that night, you’re lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling as you think about what hyunjin and felix said before. you think how ridiculous and embarrassing it would be, but your brain keeps working against you - tuition, bills, groceries and everything else, the numbers line up in your head without even trying.

every paycheck from the café disappears almost as soon as it arrives, every month is another balancing act. you’re exhausted, because no matter what you do, it’s still not enough.

what if you actually did it?

the thought slips in before you can stop it. you think again about how embarrassing it would be but you also know that if you ever did something like that, there is only one person you could imagine yourself doing it with. 

han.

simply because he’s just han, your best friend. if you ever had to make yourself that vulnerable, you know you’d feel safer with him than with anyone else.

you roll onto your side, hugging your pillow against your chest. you wonder if you brought it up this time, if he would even consider it, or if he would think poorly of you or look at you any different. he has been one of the closest people in your life for years and the last thing you want is to make things awkward between you over something like this.

maybe you should forget it, pretend that conversation never happened and find another solution somehow, even if you have absolutely no idea what that solution could be. you turn in your bed again and then, your phone buzzes on the bedside table. you reach over and pick it up, seeing the screen light up with a new text from han. you stare at his name for a bit and then open his text.

han: should we talk about it?

breathe in, breathe out, and then repeat, again and again. 

that’s what you tell yourself as you sit in your bed wearing only your light pink lingerie as han sits beside you in only his black boxers, none of you daring to look at each other yet.

a couple of nights ago, just after han had texted you, you told him to come over to your dorm, the conversation far too important to have it over text. as soon as he arrived and you sat together, the conversation started awkwardly, painfully awkwardly, but both of you knew what was coming: both of you knew you had to do the livestream, part of you knew it was because you needed the money and another part was because deep down you knew that  even though you had acted strongly against it at the beginning, it was the opposite now. 

you both wanted to do it, but still, it was a bit awkward and strange. well, very awkward and strange.

you spent hours trying to think of how to do it, talking about trust and boundaries, about what you would do if either of you were uncomfortable during the livestream, how to stop if one of you changed your mind.

“if either of us says we’re done”, you had said, “then we’re done”

“yeah, i agree”, han said as he nodded his head.

you had said that you would only do it once, that you would hopefully get the money you needed and that’s it, you’re done. then you both said that you weren’t going to tell anyone you were doing this, not even hyunjin and felix, and that you would never talk about this again, han had shaken his head strongly at that. 

“so… are we actually doing this?”, he asked you once you had discussed everything.

you looked at him, and then nodded your head, “yeah, i guess we are”

that was then, and now, it’s the moment of truth. 

your phone is right in front of you, the web ready and the only thing you need to do is press the button and the livestream will finally start, just one tap and everything will change. you look at han from the corner of your eye, his curly hair and his glasses doing nothing to hide how nervous he is right now. you’re nervous too, of course, but seeing him like that, next to you… you can’t deny that the sight is going straight to your core, making you press your thighs together, and you hope he doesn’t realise what you’re doing. 

“you can still back out”, you hear him say suddenly.

you turn to look at him properly and you find him already looking at you.

“so can you”, you tell him.

“i know”

for another long moment, neither of you moves as you sit there, trying to convince yourselves that the decision you’ve made is one you can follow through on and hoping that once it’s over, it won’t make things awkward between you. 

breathe in, breathe out.

the words loop in your head like a mantra, but they do nothing to calm the nervous flutter in your stomach or the slick warmth already gathering in your panties. after another pause, you speak again, your voice low but steady.

“jisung… are you ready?”

han swallows hard, his eyes flicking to yours again, wide behind his glasses. he nods his head once, then again, more firmly this time.

“yeah, i think so”

your fingers tremble as you reach for your phone and then, you press the live button. the counter starts with no viewers and then climbs almost instantly, people already entering the stream and the messages start before you can even wave to the camera. 

you lift your hand and smile, trying to look confident even though your pulse is hammering and your hand is shaking.

“hey everyone… hi”

han leans forwards slightly and gives a small and awkward bow. you reach out without thinking, your palm landing on his shoulder to stop him mid-motion. he freezes, his eyes widening, clearly worried he’s already messed up. 

princessonline: omg first-timers??

cumslut: you two look so cute together 

you laugh, the sound a little shaky, and then you rub your arm, “yeah… it’s our first time doing… this”, you say as you feel your cheeks burning.

han clears his throat, his voice cracking as he speaks, “we’re… uh… we’re doing this because we need money for university and-”

your hand shoots out again, your fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“jisung! you don’t have to say that”, you whisper sharply, your eyes wide.

he stares at you, his cheeks flushing deep red, his glasses slipping down his nose. the chat goes wild.

midnightwolf: this is gonna be fun 

edgequeen: protect them at all costs

the donations start coming in and the numbers climb on screen. you breathe in and out again and then turn towards han, your knees brushing his as he turns to look at you at the same time. your faces are inches apart now and neither of you knows exactly how to start. your hands hover uselessly in the space between you and then you both lean in for a kiss, but you tilt in the same direction and bump foreheads instead. a nervous laugh escapes you and then you try again, the opposite side this time, and your noses brush awkwardly.

he lifts his hand, a bit hesitant, then he moves it towards your breast, over the pink lace. his palm is warm and you feel his fingers trembling, the contact sending a jolt straight between your legs. 

“oh, for fuck’s sake”, you mutter under your breath and then, you slide your hand up to the back of his neck, your fingers threading into his curly hair and then you pull him in.

this time your mouths meet properly, soft at first and then firmer, your lips parting. his glasses bump your cheek and you feel him exhale shakily against your mouth. the kiss deepens, your tongues brushing together and then your other hand moves to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. 

the comments keep coming but they fade into background noise as han’s thumb brushes over your nipple through the thin fabric, drawing a soft sound from your throat. the nervousness is still there, but it’s mixing with something hotter now, something that makes you press closer to him, your thighs parting slightly on the bed.

han’s mouth moves against yours with growing hunger, his tongue sliding in to taste you while his hand stays cupped over your breast. your fingers stay tangled in his curls, tugging every time a spark shoots down your spine.

dirtypup: holy shit they’re actually going for it

artprince69: first time my ass look at them

you moan into his mouth when his other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer to him. without breaking the kiss you move forward, swinging one leg over his lap so you’re straddling him, your knees on either side of his hips. the moment your body settles on top of him, you break the kiss to look at him, his eyes flying wide behind his glasses, his pupils blown, and his lips parted as he stares up at you like he’s forgotten how to breathe. you can see it in his face, he’s completely lost in you and in the feel of your body pressing down on his cock. 

you lean in again, capturing his mouth with more urgency this time. your hips roll experimentally, grinding your soaked panties against his cock which makes him groan against your lips. you keep moving, your cunt sliding along his cock through your underwear and every roll of your hips makes his cock throb harder beneath you.

strongspear: she’s riding him already fuck

maknaeontop: look how wet she is 

frustration and desire mix in your chest. you stop the kiss again and then reach up, yank his glasses off his face and toss them somewhere behind you without caring where they land or even if they break. the second they’re gone, you crash your mouth back onto his, kissing him messily and nipping at his lower lip. his hands move to grip your hips now, guiding your movements as you grind down harder, his cock pressing right against your entrance. 

you can feel how soaked you’re getting, the fabric between you turning slippery, and his boxers are damp too. the pre-cum already leaking through and mixing with your arousal.

he suddenly flips you both, surprising you as his arms lift and turn you until your back hits the mattress and he’s hovering over you, lying between your legs. his curly hair falls forward, brushing your forehead as he looks down at you, breathing hard. his hands slide up your ribs, his fingers hooking under the thin straps of your bra and then he tugs them down slowly, freeing your breasts. cool air hits your nipples before his warm mouth closes over one of them, sucking gently as his tongue flicks it. you arch into him with a soft cry, your hands moving behind your back to unhook your bra and take it off, before you move your hands to the back of his head to hold him there. 

he moves to the other nipple, sucking and biting while one of his hands trails down your stomach. his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and he drags them down your thighs, peeling the soaked fabric away until you’re completely naked. he tosses them aside as his eyes stay locked on your glistening cunt, he’s completely drunk on the sight of you spread open under him.

he lowers himself between your thighs, his shoulders pushing your legs open wider. his hot breath ghosts over your folds for a second before his tongue drags a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. 

“j-jisung!”, you say, a broken moan tearing from your throat at the contact.

he does it again, firmer this time, then he closes his lips around your clit and sucks. two of his fingers slide into your dripping cunt at the same time, curling inside you as he tries to find that spot inside you.

aussielord: eating her out already fuck 

user69: she’s so wet it’s dripping down his chin

leethighs: i wish it was my mouth on her

his fingers move inside you while his tongue works tight circles around your clit, your juices coating his fingers and mouth and the sheets beneath you. your thighs tremble on either side of his head and you reach down blindly, your fingers threading back into his curls, holding him exactly where you need him as the pressure builds fast between your legs. 

han moans against your cunt like he’s the one being pleasured, his other hand keeping you spread as he devours you. you can only focus on his mouth on you, on his fingers inside you and the way he looks up at you every few seconds with those dark and desperate eyes, like he could stay between your legs forever if you let him. 

his tongue presses against your clit while his fingers curl deep inside you and your hips jerk up against his mouth. he moans low and needy against your cunt, the vibration shooting straight through your body and when his lips suck your clit hard and his fingers move faster, your orgasm crashes through you, your back arching off the bed. 

“f-fuck, jisung”, you scream, your body shaking as his tongue and fingers keep moving, not letting you rest.

your walls clench around his fingers, your cunt pulsing as you keep coming with a broken scream, your voice cracking on his name as you say it again and again, because it’s the only word you seem to know now. he groans against you like he’s the one coming, his tongue and fingers still moving, not stopping until you’re twitching from overstimulation.

you’re still panting hard when you tug his curls, pulling him up your body as he crawls over you, his mouth shiny with your juices, and you drag him into a messy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. as you kiss, you feel him humping against your thigh now, his cock completely hard and leaking through his boxers, leaving a wet streak on your skin with every desperate move.

your hand slips between your bodies, hooking into his boxers and yanking them down. his cock springs free, thick and hard, the veins standing out along the shaft and the head leaking more pre-cum than you had thought it was possible. you wrap your fingers around it and move your hand, making him shudder above you, his hips jerking into your fist.

you keep kissing as you move your hand, but when you try to push him so he can lie on the bed and you can take him in your mouth, he stops your movements, his eyes wide and pleading.

“please, y/n”, he breathes against your lips, his voice hoarse, “don’t. i… i need you. just… keep kissing me. please”

you can’t say no to him and those eyes. 

you pull him back into another kiss while your hand keeps moving around his cock. your movements grow faster, your thumb swiping over the tip. he moans into your mouth, his hips thrusting into your hand and his tongue sliding against yours like he can’t get enough.

dirtypup: holy shit i wish it was my cock

midnightwolf: stroking my cock so hard right now

cumslut: look at that dick omg

artprince69: he’s gonna paint her body with his cum fuck

“like that… yeah. p-please”, he breaks the kiss just enough to speak, his lips brushing yours with every word.

he kisses you again, his tongue moving desperately against yours now. his cock throbs in your hand and before you realise what’s happening, he comes hard, his cum shooting across your stomach, streaking your thighs and splattering your breasts. he keeps kissing you through it, moaning into your mouth while his hips jerk and his release paints your skin, warm and sticky, but he refuses to pull away from you - not that you really want him to - as his lips stay locked on yours like he needs the contact more than air. 

the kiss turns wet and desperate, neither of you willing to pull away to even breathe. when you finally break it, a thin string of spit stretches between you before snapping. you hold his gaze, his pupils blown wide as he looks at you, and then, you drag two fingers through his cum on your body and then you lift them to your mouth without looking away from him.

han’s breath catches hard, his eyes following every movement as you push your fingers between your lips and suck them clean, your tongue swirling around his cum. a broken whimper slips out of him, high and needy.

“fuck… fuck, y/n”, he gasps, his voice cracking.

leethighs: he’s literally shaking

artprince69: that was so hot fuck

maknaeontop: she can lick my cum too

cumslut: look at his face he’s gone 

han’s cock twitches against your thigh, already hard again. he moans louder, his hips jerking forward, and he crashes back into your mouth like he can’t survive without it now that he’s had a taste. the kiss turns frantic as his whimpers vibrate straight into you. he sounds completely wrecked, little broken sounds spilling between every slide of lips. 

you feel him moving, one of his hands moving between your bodies until the tip of his cock drags through your folds. the blunt pressure against your entrance makes you gasp into the kiss and your thighs spread wider on instinct.

“please”, you whisper against his mouth, your voice showing how desperate you are, “jisung, fuck me. i need you inside me right now”

he whines, as he presses his forehead to yours, and then pushes forward, stretching you open until he sinks all the way in with one slow and trembling thrust. your walls clench around him and you both moan loud enough for all your viewers to hear.

edgequeen: fuck they are so hot

princessonline: i wanna be her so bad

han starts moving, his hips rolling deep and steady at first and then faster as his need overtakes him. every thrust punches a moan out of you that he swallows greedily, kissing you like he’s starving. your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper and closer to you, and he answers with harder snaps of his hips against yours.

“god, you feel so good”, he pants between kisses, “so tight- f-fuck, i can’t stop”

“don’t stop”, you beg him, your voice shaking, “harder- please, ji… jisung, fuck me harder”

he obeys you, pounding into you now. his mouth never leaves yours for more than a second, desperate to keep tasting you while his cock moves in and out of you. you clench around him every time he bottoms out and he whimpers each time, the sound almost pained with how good it feels.

you know people are still commenting and sending money, but neither of you can focus on anything else other than the way your bodies slam together and the endless and messy kisses you share. your hands claw at his back, his curls, anything to keep him closer to you while you beg for more between every thrust.

“ji- jisung, i’m close. don’t stop, please don’t stop-”

“i’m right there”, he says, his voice wrecked, “come with me. fuck, y/n, come on my cock”

your orgasm hits first, your walls pulsing hard around him and you let out a broken cry muffled against his mouth. the feeling drags him over the edge too as he buries himself deep and comes with a long and shaking moan. you keep kissing through your orgasms, your tongues sliding together, both of you trembling and gasping into each other’s mouths as the aftershocks roll through you, his cum leaking out of you around his cock.

when your climaxes finally end, both of you are panting, your foreheads pressed together and your chests breathing hard. you blink up at him, still trembling, and brush a damp curl off his forehead.

“you okay?”, you whisper.

he doesn’t answer right away. his eyes are glassy and his pupils blown, locked on your face like he’s drowning in it and then, a low and broken groan leaves his throat.

“i need to taste you again”, he says, his voice almost frantic, “p-please- fuck, i have to-”

before you can even react, he’s sliding down your body, his mouth already open. he pushes your thighs apart with shaky hands and then buries his face between your legs like a man starved. his tongue drags though your folds and rips a scream from your throat. your back arches hard off the bed as he licks deep, sucking at your entrance, then flattening his tongue over your swollen clit.

cumslut: holy fuck i’m fingering myself so hard right now

strongspear: look at his tongue disappearing inside her

user69: i wish i was between them licking both of them 

he moans into your cunt, his hands gripping your thighs and pulling you down onto his mouth as he devours you again. you can’t stop your hips from rolling, grinding against his tongue and lips, riding his face while he eats you out like he’ll die without it.

“jisung- oh my god, jisung!”, you cry, your thighs shaking around his head.

he doesn’t slow down, if anything, he gets more desperate, his tongue flicking your clit before moving back inside you, his nose pressed against you as he breathes you in. another orgasm crashes through you then, as you scream his name and your hips jerk against his face, but he doesn’t stop. he keeps licking you through it, sucking your clit and making another wave of pleasure start inside your body as soon as the other finishes.

“i- i can’t- jisung, i need to breathe-”, you gasp, your voice cracking, but he only moans louder and keeps eating you out, his mouth all over you like he’s lost all control. 

aussielord: i’m coming watching this fuck

dirtypup: he’s literally drinking her

edgequeen: i’m so wet i’m dripping on my chair 

you feel another orgasm building, stronger and deeper. han’s eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and wild, never breaking contact as his tongue works you relentlessly and that’s what pushes you over this time. your whole body locks up and then explodes, a powerful gush sprays from you, soaking his lips and chin. he groans like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted and keeps drinking you down, his tongue lapping at every drop while you writhe and scream.

the orgasm rips through you so hard your vision whites out as your body arches off the bed. your thighs clamp around his head, your hips bucking uncontrollably as you squirt, and still he doesn’t stop, he keeps licking and sucking, moaning into your oversensitive cunt until you’re shaking so much you can barely speak.

“ji- jisung- too much… o-oversensitive”, you finally manage to whimper.

he pulls back, his lips shiny and swollen, as he breaths hard. he presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, then the trembling skin just above your core, while you twitch and gasp through the aftershocks. he moves up your body slowly, his face still glistening with your juices and then he leans in close until his nose almost brushes yours, his breath warm and shaky against your mouth.

“you okay?”, he asks you this time, his voice hoarse from how hard he’d been moaning into you.

you can’t answer him, your brain feels scrambled and your body is still twitching from your orgasms. all you can do is look at him, because now you are the one that’s completely lost in the sight of him - his flushed cheeks, the way his curls stick to his damp forehead and the raw hunger still burning in his eyes. 

without a word you reach up, grab the back of his neck and drag him down to kiss him again. you moan against his lips, your arms wrapping tight around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer to you even though there’s no space left between your bodies.

his palms stroke your sides while your hands roam everywhere, everywhere you can reach. every kiss feels heavier, more intimate, like you’re both pouring everything into each other without needing to speak.

midnightwolf: my cock is throbbing so bad right now

cumslut: they look so gone for each other it’s hot as fuck

princessonline: i came twice and i’m still wet 

you keep kissing him deeper, your legs tangling with his, as your hands keep exploring every inch of skin that you can reach. then han breaks the kiss and turns his head towards the phone. he reaches over and without saying anything, he taps the screen and ends the livestream, the chat disappearing then. he turns towards you and kisses you again, his lips brushing yours with a tenderness that is new, nothing like the kisses you’ve shared until now, like he’s checking every inch of you is still there and still wants him. 

his hand cups your cheek, his thumb stroking gently along your jaw as his mouth moves against yours in unhurried presses.

“you okay?”, he asks you again between kisses.

you nod your head, trying to catch your breath before he kisses you again.

“yeah, i’m okay”, you say as your fingers trace the line of his collarbone, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palm, “and you?”

he gives a small and shaky laugh and nods his head, “i’m good”

for a long moment you just stay like that, your bodies tangled together and neither of you looking away from each other. your fingers keep moving in lazy patterns over his body while his hands rest on your hips, his thumbs stroking slow circles there.

eventually you break the silence, “do you think we made enough money?”

something flickers across his face, so quick it’s almost hidden. disappointment maybe? it’s gone before you can be sure, replaced by a soft and careful smile.

“i hope so”, he says quietly, “we really need it”

you tilt your head, studying him, “what’s wrong?”

han exhales then, the sound shaky. his gaze drops for a second before he forces it back up to meet yours.

“i just… i know we need the money, i really do, and that’s why we did this but… fuck, i love you, y/n. i’ve loved you for a while now and having you like this today, i… i don’t wanna stop doing this, but i don’t want it to be for a livestream or to get money. i want you, just you. and maybe you don’t want me the same way and that’s okay, i just… i needed to say it because i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind”

the words tumble out faster, spiraling, and you can’t do anything, just lie there as you look at him.

“i mean, i know this started as a stupid idea to get the money and i’m probably ruining everything right now but… this felt real to me and i can’t pretend it didn’t and if you don’t feel the same way, i’ll shut up and we can just-”

you cut him off with a kiss, firm and deep, your hands sliding into his curls to hold him there. he makes a surprised sound against your lips but melts into it almost instantly, his lips parting as your tongues slide together again. when you finally pull back, his eyes are wide and his cheeks are flushed darker than before. 

“i love you too”, you say, your voice steady even though your heart is hammering, “and i’ve wanted you for longer than i even let myself admit. so stop spiraling, jisung”

he laughs softly and then surges forward and kisses you again, like he’s trying to pour everything he never said into the press of his mouth against yours. your legs tangle together tighter, your bodies pressing close once more as the kiss turns heated but still soft and tender, exploring what this confession could lead to.

when you break apart this time, breathless and smiling, you murmur against his lips, “this is not exactly the most romantic confession, huh?”

han laughs, the sound warm and shaky against your lips, “yeah… but it’s ours”, he says and then leans in to kiss you once more, already knowing he will never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his.

“but we’re never telling hyunjin and felix how we confessed”

a/n: sweet nerd jisung oh my goddddddd how are we feeling 🥵 and now... it's almost time for our juicy men, our red lights duo, buckle up everyone 😎

the library

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dividers by my darling @lariesographic 🩷