#sub!hoshi

SOONYOUNG chased after his own breath as he downed a red plastic cup of water, sweat sticking to the back of his neck that the vehement dancing wasn’t entirely to blame for. 

he and the rest of the trio, seungkwan and seokmin, had been practically glued to the wall and off in their own world until they’d drowned out their anxiety with liquor. and when the bass of fantastic baby’s opening rattled the walls, soonyoung had shamelessly dragged his friends by their wrists to the dance circle. 

it wasn’t long before the crowd ended up parting for the tipsy trio, egging the boys on as they tore up the dancefloor. the other two (show offs) even sparked cheers when they both belted the bridge. 

seungkwan and seokmin had been ridiculously loud, impossible to tune out — and yet soonyoung couldn’t hear anything but the thrum of his own heartbeat when he caught sight of you. 

in the midst of all that noise, your eyes crossed paths. it was literally just a chance contact: a pretty girl amongst the sea of people, tongue pressed into your cheek as you looked him up and down — eyes flitting from face to crotch, raising your brows like you knew exactly what he’d taste like. seungkwan had to shove soonyoung into position because you’d turned him to stone with just one look. 

his body moved to the music on instinct, while each thought in his mind had been set to fire — the flames roaring a feeling he really didn’t want to think about or else he’d pop a rager right here in front of everyone.

soonyoung hadn’t meant to keep staring, even long after they song ended and the circle started to disperse. hadn’t thought about it when he got on his tippy toes to catch sight of your face again amongst the crowd. he may as well have been floating in the air following your scent like a pie on a windowsill.

he felt crazy. more than his usual.

to his luck, he finds you again across the room, pouring tequila into two shots glasses: one for you, one for your ponytailed friend.

just when he thinks he can’t possibly drool at the sight of you, your tongue darts out to lick a stripe of salt off your hand. together, you link arms with your friend and throw your heads back to down the shots.

the clear liquor seeped from the corner of your lips and caught on your chin as your face scrunched, reaching for a slice of lime to suck on. that’s when he should really look away, before his thoughts revert to caveman and all he can think is peepee want suck.

his brain’s halfway to regression as you pop the shrivelled lime from your mouth, lazily tugging up the hem of your shirt to blot the juice and liquor around your mouth, flashing the bare skin of your stomach to what should’ve been no one in particular.

his eyes dart away before yours could catch him, but it was still too late. his throat felt tight, his body reacting in ways that made his stomach twist. oh, shit. was he—? oh my god. he’s really become the guy who gets hard at the party.

soonyoung resolves to turning to his friends, the hand in his lap slyly readjusting the front of his sweats under the table. he tunes back in to their conversation, desperate for their lunacy to repulse him out of this evil.

“soonyoung, you know that chick?” seokmin pipes up, voice loud over the music.

fuck my life.

he gulped. “uh, who?”

seokmin extends an arm out to fully point at you without any regard for socially acceptable behaviour. seungkwan’s quick to intercept it and shove it back down before any heads can turn.

soonyoung shook his head, threading a hand through his hair to slyly catch a bead of sweat about to run down his forehead. seungkwan’s more demure in his approach, gaze casually flitting around the room before he catches on who seokmin was pointing at.

“you don’t mean that tall one, right? ponytail?”

“the one who just did a shot with her friend, yeah” seokmin drawls. “she’s gorgeous.”

seungkwan gives him wicked side eye. “that’s a hyung. his name’s jeonghan.”

“oh.”

“wait, what about the other one?” soonyoung cuts in; practically blurts. “do you know her?”

“not her name, no.” well that was surprising. seungkwan knew the names of just about everyone’s mother and their dog. “but i think she—”

“—is coming over.” seokmin says lowly through a smile full of teeth.

and sure enough, soonyoung’s got no time to compose himself before you’re standing in front of them, radiant and certain.

“hey cuties,” you purr, bending at the waist and resting your palms on the table to lean closer. a soft perfume hits his senses, and it’s enough for a violent storm of butterflies to start flapping their wings in his stomach.

maybe it was the five dollar snoop dogg wine he bought on clearance (dancing with a bellyful certainly didn’t help), but his insides were shaking up. he didn’t trust his voice, didn’t trust that opening his mouth wouldn’t just spill all his nerves onto the floor.

“hey.” he manages to croak out at last. seungkwan’s side eye dug sharp into his skull.

if you notice, you don’t seem to care — rather you jab a thumb toward the dance floor where the crowd was swaying along to bae bae. “you know this one?”

”yeah,” he replies pitifully.

“good.” your smile curled, sly and unbothered. “mind if i steal him?”

soonyoung doesn’t even get to answer for himself before his friends are shoving him out of his seat, barely concealing their groans of secondhand embarrassment as he shyly takes hold of the hand you’ve offered him.

as he trails behind you, he shoots them one last glance: narrowing his eyes with pursed lips, as if to say i got hit on and you didn’t, so stop making fun of me!

the floor rattled with bass, bae bae flooding the room as bodies moved along. soonyoung found himself orbiting you in the middle of the dancefloor, inching closer with each beat until you were swaying together, just the two of you in your own little bubble.

“what’s your name?” you asked, leaning in so he could hear you, not without your breath fanning his face.

“kwon soonyoung.” he replies, unintentionally straightening his back and stating his full name without hesitation. you laugh softly at his sincerity.

you repeated yours back the same way. his head bobbed in a curt nod. and then… nothing. he opened his mouth, closed it again; mind suddenly wiped clean of every scrap of charm and every line he’d ever used. he wasn’t some virgin loser, he swears to no one in particular. he just needed a second to defrost.

“what’re you up to here?” you asked, taking the reins to fill the silence.

“oh, i got invited with the rest of the football team.”

you nod without a word, teeth catching your bottom lip. was that you biting back a thought, or were you deliberately teasing him? either way, it leaves his eyes lingering at your mouth.

he scrambled for something to return. “what about you?”

“jeonghan’s friends with everyone,” you nod towards the wall where jeonghan leaned, charming the hell out of one of soonyoung’s teammates, wonwoo. jeonghan caught your gesture and threw you a wink.

a pit opened up in soonyoung’s stomach. boyfriend?

“not my boyfriend.” you tag on, as if you’d plucked the thought right out of his head.

“oh, cool.” his relief was instant, though he tried not to sound too obvious about it. okay. so maybe you were flirting.

the song rolled into its final stretch, the part where the backup dancers draped their bodies over the guys and swayed in sync with them. around you, couples mirrored the choreography. you stepped toward soonyoung and turned your back to him expectantly.

your arm comes to hook lazily around his neck, body already swaying side to side while his feet stayed planted to the ground as if he wasn’t a dance major as well as a raging bigbang fanboy. his arms hung rigid — among other things — at his sides when your ass brushed against his front.

“don’t tell me you’ve gone shy on me,” you pouted over your shoulder.

that did it. his hands found your waist at last, and you rewarded him by grinding just enough to make his head spin. he tried to follow the steps on instinct, but his body was uncooperative: half stiff from nerves and half from the amount of blood rushing south.

you laugh, the sound dripping with knowing mischief. you both knew damn well what you had roused in him. worse, you’re taking the piss out of it, almost enticing him to make a mess of his pants out here with each not-so accidental slide against him.

when the song comes to a torturous end, you don’t step away — rather you spin in his arms, looping both of yours around his neck before leaning in to kiss him.

it was dizzying. the taste of his cheap dodgy wine mingled with the bitter taste of your tequila and lime when you licked into his mouth — just once, then his tongue was chasing yours. when his fingers curl in the fabric of your shirt, you take it as a sign to end it here. any longer and he might not let go.

soonyoung nearly whines in dismay from parting with you, and you have to press a palm to his chest to stop him from leaning in for a second go.

“got places to be?” you ask, tilting your head towards seokmin and seungkwan, whom he completely forget he came with. he shakes his head. “they won’t miss you too much?”

he’d literally skip attending their funerals if it meant getting whatever you’re offering to give him right now.

okay, maybe that was too extreme of an example, but the point still stands. it’s been a while since he’s gotten some. he silently prays that his abilities haven’t slipped from him during his hiatus.

“let me just get my bag from jeonghan, and we’ll head out of here? my place?”

he nods along. your smile’s worth a million dollars. “good boy.”

you turn away without regard for what the hell you’ve just done to him, pushing past the crowd while he stands there horny and conflicted.

he glances back to his table, where seungkwan and seokmin are giving him thumbs up and silently cheering him on. the youngest’s eyes flick down, and his face drops in horror. he mimes to soonyoung by frantically pointing downwards and covering his lap with his hands. soonyoung just waves them off with a roll of his eyes, trailing after you — but not without clasping his hands at the front of his body to conceal the tent in his pants.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

after a handsy uber ride back to your apartment (which was all you, grabbing at his thighs and kissing his neck. he was too scared of the driver glancing in the rearview mirror), soonyoung finds himself laid out on the couch underneath you.

your ass was sat in his lap while you bent down to kiss him; your hands roaming underneath his shirt to palm at his abs, hips rocking to grind frantically against him.

“god, you’re so hard,” you exhale onto his lips, fingers tugging at the strings of his sweatpants. months of no play will do that…

you sit back on his thighs, slipping a hand under his waistband and grazing your fingers over his length. his cock twitches at the featherlight touch, and you snicker at his sensitivity.

“it’s.. been a while. sorry. i don’t know how long i’ll—”

the words die in his throat when your fist wraps tight around him. you watch him gasp with a glimmer in your eye.

“do you see me complaining?” you croon.

he makes a silent vow to pound you til this couch is creaking, but only after he gets past the chills leading up to his first orgasm. you deserve better than the whiney mess you’ve got under you right now.

your palm lets go of its vice grip around him, fingers sliding up to dance across his abdomen. you giggle in amusement when his torso flexes under your nails.

“soonie— can i call you that? okay, good. i wanna ask your permission for something.”

he nods with a gulp, eyes trained on your hand swirling circles on the bare skin of his toned chest.

you lean down to press a kiss to his lips that lasts longer than intended — him catching your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking your tongue into his mouth. you swat his side playfully as you part. that could definitely turn into something he’s into… but the thought passes as quick as it comes.

“do you mind if i record this?”

soonyoung stares at you for a moment, and you’re happy to wait patiently as you watch the cogs turn in his head. at last, his face shifts into one of surprise, and intrigue. 

“oh, yeah. sure.” 

his response is calmer than you thought was coming (him too). you smile, pressing quick kisses to his lips and leaving him chasing after you as you get up off his lap. 

soonyoung watches his small reflection on your phone screen as you set it on the coffee table, propped up on a tissue box. it’s angled to cut off anything above soonyoung’s jaw, and he could still tell just how sweaty he was even from the distance. he’s not sure what he expects to happen when you press record, but he curiously trails your every move once the camera’s rolling — letting you lead this dance and for him to follow. 

your ass plops back down to the home it’s made on his thighs. “if you’re gonna call me anything, make sure it’s ‘baby’.” you whisper. 

soonyoung nods, hypnotised by your hands crawling to his waistband. 

his eyes flit back up to your face to watch your reaction as you tug his sweats down, revealing where he’s been straining against his briefs.

you lick your lips, fingers rubbing at the head of his cock where the fabric’s already damp with precum. his hips roll into the featherlight touch against his will (lie) and you giggle. 

“big boy.” you say absently, rolling the last layer down his thighs enough to be out of the way. he swears his dick jumps at those words. 

there’s no preamble as you spit right onto the tip, soonyoung jolting at the sudden contact. you use a loose fist around him to glide your spit and the leaking precum down over his length. when you reach the base, your fist wraps around him properly, and he hisses sharply to hide the whine that almost left his mouth on camera. 

with a vice grip you ride your hand up and over him; smiling at how his dick bobs at your touch, how his face scrunches from the effort of trying not to bust all over your knuckles already. 

soonyoung lets out a shaky whimper when your fist reaches his tip, cut off by a startled moan when you give a flick of your wrist. you snicker and repeat the action to get him to duplicate the noise. he catches your eyes drifting to the phone, watching your reflection as you jerk him off. 

you keep working him like that — a tight grip and steady paced strokes of his cock,  with a quick twist at the tip to keep him vocal. even with the amount of soft moans you were pulling from him, he still found himself holding himself back, hyperaware of everything being documented. he’d probably be belting high notes from how fucking good you feel if not for the camera. 

only a good few strokes later and soonyoung’s reaching for you, fingers wrapping around your wrist where your hand is undeterred in fisting him. his hips jolt, cock twitching violently in your hand as soonyoung feels that familiar tightness curling far too quickly in his lower belly. 

“holy fuck—” he throws his head back, urging out stammers between his moans, not sure himself whether he’s trying to get you to slow down or speed up. “baby—”

your movements come to a torturous halt. your hand’s wrapped tight around the head of his cock, thumb pressing cruelly onto his frenulum. his breath comes out in shallow heaves as he simultaneously holds back on orgasm and prays to not make a bitch of himself. your hands slide off of him, and when his eyes flutter open, he’s surprised to find that yours are back on him — captivated and gleaming. 

if he was in any position to make demands he’d tell you not to edge him. but he’s completely out of it, hazy at the edges and sensitive to every drag of your fingertips on his skin. you’ve got his shirt hiked up on his chest to watch his abs contort under your featherlight touch, face plastered with a wicked grin.

he swallows the urge to sit up and kiss it off your face. he doesn’t know how far he’s allowed to go, instead just laying there and taking whatever you’ll give him. 

for a minute, you rake your nails over his chest and watch how his cock jumps and leaks, every soft whine from soonyoung a plea to get your hands back on him. though he’s grateful for the breather so he can hold off his orgasm to a less embarrassing finishing time. your eyes weigh heavy on him the entire time, until you’re suddenly raising off his lap. 

he cuts himself off before he can say the first syllable of your name. “baby, what—”

the rest of his sentence dies in a choked moan as he witnesses your face drop down and lips wrap around him. soonyoung’s back arches off the couch at the shock of your tongue dragging over the underside of his length, hollowing your cheeks to suck him into the heat of your mouth. 

“baby, baby,” he’s babbling, hand instinctively burying into your hair. your hum in reply vibrates around him, tongue swirling circles onto the head of his cock, pressing down hard enough for him to see fucking stars. 

it takes everything in him and then some to not close his fist around your hair in fear of uprooting it as his orgasm seizes him — hips deliriously bucking up into your throat, you bobbing your head to match his urgency. soonyoung quite literally yells as he cums, burying him to the base around your lips as hot ropes shoot down your throat. 

you’ve got no mercy as you move off him, cheeks still sucking him in as you drag your mouth up his length with that same unrelenting tightness, leaving soonyoung a whimpering mess when your lips detach with a wet pop. 

you lick your lips, and he watches breathlessly as your throat bobs, swallowing the taste of him down. his dick twitches at the sight. 

you smile, satiated, patting his thigh like you’re telling him he did a good job. you don’t move from your spot this time as you lean to the coffee table and retrieve your phone, pressing the recording off. after, you reach for a few tissues and wipe soonyoung’s crotch with one hand, while staring at the other holding your phone. 

you tuck him back into his pants, giving him a smile as he stares at you with wonder like he just got a handjob from an angel. 

“that was good,” you tell him, turning your attention back to your phone. 

“are you kidding?” he replies. that gets your eyes to flick back to him. “you’re, like..” don’t ask what he’s saying because he doesn’t know either. “that was goated.” 

you close your eyes with a scoff in disbelief over his word choice. “thank you.” 

he finally sits up, moving to wrap his arms around your waist. you’ll come to learn he acts like a clingy sloth after he nuts. 

though, you shift in his hold, and he backs off when he realises he might’ve overstepped. you look more at ease once his arms fall off you, and he feels a pang of regret. 

you look up at him, flashing a smile that wipes the slate clean. 

“did you want to see?” 

you hold your phone up, no preamble as you press play on the video. his desperate noises echoed back at him and the slick sounds of you fisting his cock has him turning away instantly, flustered and horny all over again.

you get the hint, turning your phone off with a giggle. “i can send it to you if you’d like.”

“uh, sure.” it’s a good excuse for your number. and he’d be a god damn liar if he said he wouldn’t rewatch the fuck out of that video to jerk off.

“why’d you record anyways?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him. a small part of him hopes you’ll flatter him and say it’s because he’s so hot you want to remember this moment forever.

you look a little taken aback that he’s asking, which slides back into your casual confidence. “to post it.”

he just stares at you: lights on, no one’s home. you crack up into laughter.

“i’m kidding, i wouldn’t dare without your permission.”

it feels like he’s swallowing a rock in his throat as he gulps. “you’re serious? where would you even..?”

“you know where.” you snicker, perplexingly casual about this whole thing. “you gonna go look me up now?”

yes. “um…”

thank god you don’t press him for an answer, instead just brushing it off with a giggle.

“since you’re asking, i’m a camgirl.” you go on. “i don’t usually record with anyone else. but i wanted to try something new.”

visuals of you naked and touching yourself on video flash through his mind against his will. the thought has him shifting his weight, trying to find any relief from his already damp pants. he felt like he was in heat or some shit.

you hold his face in your hands, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. if you’re trying to sway him, it’s already working.

“that brings me to what i was gonna ask. it’s completely up to you, and don’t feel pressured, but i wanted to ask if i could post—”

“—go ahead.”

he practically shrugs it. for a moment, your eyes widen as his words register. once your grin splits across your face, soonyoung knows then he’d do absolutely anything you ask of him just to get this reaction out of you.

you squeal and pull him into a hug. his hand comes to rest on your back, his own smile pressed into your shoulder.

“don’t worry, i’ll crop it so your face isn’t in it.” you push back his hair, leaving pecks on his forehead. you’re really affectionate for a girl who approached him at a party with the sole intent of hooking up (and filming it?).

the urge to pry wafts through his mind — whether he should ask about what this means, if there’s any more of tonight in the near future, but he doesn’t dare break the moment. just sits there pliant in your hands as you kiss all over his face.

“before i forget to ask, could i get your number?”

“so forward,” you tease, “not just trying to get in my pants, are you?” like his whole dick wasn’t down your throat just a moment ago.

he chuckles, your thumb gliding over the swell of his cheeks as he smiled. “ah, guilty.”

it’s a known fact that soonyoung has a bad habit of thinking with his dick first and brain second. the one thing his exes could agree on is that he was the type to fold without a fight. all it took was one suggestive glance mid-argument and his mind would be wiped clean of any grievances. he’d walk to the ends of the earth with the promise of some pussy.

so when you asked if you could upload the video, he’d agreed without so much as a second thought. because in the moment, the thought of making you smile outweighed anything else.

only now, whenever it hit him that there was a literal sex tape of him online, his moans and his junk on display for strangers, his stomach twisted into knots.

he wasn’t exactly ashamed. more so.. embarrassed at how eager he was to please you. how quickly he undermined his own dignity in favour of not disappointing you.

he was battling and near losing against the urge to ask you out on a real date — but settles on an excuse to text you instead.

[ soonie ] hello ☺️ how’s the video doing?

seungkwan’s at his side right now, sulking about soonyoung paying more attention to his phone and trying to lean over his shoulder to see what could possibly be more important than him. really, he’s just nosey and figured soonyoung probably got your number.

three dots appear on the screen, and soonyoung all but bitchslaps him to thwart his thrashing to snatch the phone.

[ you ] hey! it’s doing really well, already pulling in a lot

one hand’s outstretched to keep a pouting seungkwan at arm’s length, the other’s holding his phone while he grins down at your reply.

he was about to think up another weak excuse to keep the conversation going when your next message landed:

[ you ] wanna get lunch soon? we can talk business

business. right. that was how you saw it. he needed this reminder.

he should’ve played it cool in front of seungkwan, should’ve at least pretended to think about it and left you on read for a few minutes to check his nonexistent schedule. seungkwan had wriggled past the grip on his forehead, so soonyoung could only send a thumbs up before quickly shutting off his phone.

luckily, when he checked it again after ducking from seungkwan’s flying kick and locking himself in the bathroom, you’d already taken the initiative to text him the when and where.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

the café was noisy enough during the lunch rush that you could talk openly, though soonyoung still leaned in across the booth table like someone might kick you both out for discussing such debaucherous things in public.

he fiddled with the straw of his iced americano, drawing onto the condensation to avoid meeting your eyes. “so… how exactly do you get paid?”

you smirked over the rim of your own coffee, delighted by his curiosity. “why are you whispering like i’m a drug dealer?”

he stammers when he tries to backtrack, but you just laugh, putting him out of his misery. “it’s largely through subscriptions, with tips being pretty common. i also do private requests. the platform takes a cut of course.”

he nodded like he was taking mental notes, chewing on the end of his straw. “and you interact with your viewers? like, talk to them?”

“sometimes i go live just to talk to them. other times, only for the good stuff.” your smile tilted knowingly. “you’d be surprised how much i’ve been paid to just say someone’s name.”

soonyoung nods, the burning tips of his ears betraying his exterior of composure. he was itching to know if anyone had asked about him yet.

“pros and cons?” he croaks out instead.

you hum in thought. “the money’s great. so is the attention, and the flexibility too. i can masturbate in bed and have rent covered within the day.” soonyoung coughs, drink having gone down the wrong pipe. “otherwise, it’s draining. people thinking their money means they own you.”

he frowned at that, stabbing his straw into a melting cube of ice. “i don’t like that.”

“it is what it is.” you half-smile, leaning your chin onto your hand. “a girl’s gotta eat. i can pay the bills without having a day job, and also focus on my studies more.”

you keep indulging in playing twenty questions with soonyoung over your coffees. he begins to realise his grave mistake in ordering one since he was getting the nervous shits — face beet red as the conversation had steered to your collection of toys, you not even lowering your voice as people walked by and shot you sideways glances.

you’re in the middle of telling him a story about how you squirted once and the vibrator stopped working, but what’s weirder is soonyoung feels this pang in his chest. it doesn’t hurt; not like his stomach that’s churning with public anxiety, or his dick that’s been hard with no relief since you started talking about this.

the warm feeling swells in his heart and spreads through his veins. answering his questions without pause, giggling at his coy attempts for jokes, smiling as he does. even as you speak things out loud that’d give a pilgrim a heart attack, he can’t help but feel adoration. you’re so you. unapologetically. admiringly.

he suddenly asks, “how do you do it?”

you pause for a moment, regarding him. “oh, well i usually drink lots of water befo—”

he chokes on a cough as he rushes to stop that sentence before you finish it.

“not.. that,” he clears his throat, shifting in his seat awkwardly and being reminded of where he’s been straining against his pants. “i just mean, posting yourself. talking so openly about it, even inviting someone else into it. you’re just so…” sexy beautiful perfect hot god i want you please let me fu— “confident. like this whole thing wouldn’t be a big deal to most people.”

“because it’s really not.” you affirm coolly. there’s a hint of sternness there that makes his dick twitch to his own utter confusion. “i’m not harming anyone. if someone feels personally offended by how i make money, i kindly remind them that it’s only made possible by the demand.”

you chuckle. he does too, halfheartedly since he’s so caught up in that self-assured look in your eyes.

“i’ve had to explain that too many times,” you sighed, setting your empty mug aside. “let’s move on to business now?”

soonyoung straightened in his chair, suddenly hyperaware of how solemn your expression had turned. he nodded quickly, hands folding in his lap (to nervously fidget with his fingers out of sight).

“alright,” you start, leaning forward. “ground rules. if this is going to keep happening, we need to be on the same page.”

his pulse jumped at your choice of words: keep happening. he tried not to look too thrilled, but the corner of his lips upturned on their own. “got it.”

“what do you want out of it?”

he hesitated. the honest answer? you, in any way he can get. he’s a grown ass man with a budding crush, even though you skipped all the courting and dived straight to home base. but saying that was probably too sentimental for the arrangement in talks.

instead he swallowed and managed: “just more of what we had. it was— well, you already know.”

“yeah.” you sat back, satisfied with his answer. “then here’s how it’ll be: we keep it casual. we have our fun, record to post, and split the profit. easy.”

easier said than done, soonyoung thinks with a furrow of his brow. he’s never done anything less than serious, full-term commitment with someone he’s been interested in. he wouldn’t know what casual is even if it was lit up in neon lights.

“no strings attached,” you add firmly, like these exact words are no stranger to leaving your mouth. “i don’t do relationships.”

soonyoung nods along, though his chest aches in a different way now. “yeah, of course. that’s totally fine.”

“cool. what do you want your cut to be?”

“huh?”

“well, my subscribers ate the fuck out of the surprise cameo. i’ve made alot already because of you. if we have a deal, it’s only fair to share what i earn.”

“no, er, that’s okay. i wouldn’t ask that of you.”

you eye him curiously, waiting for him to think it over and have a change of heart. but soonyoung’s not so materialistic he’d charge you for his time like an escort.

he gets to sleep with a gorgeous girl who’s insanely out of his league, you get your money, everyone orgasms, it’s a win-win.

…maybe doing it all for some pussy was materialistic in a different way. but the point still stands.

“what a gentleman.” you tut, smirking. “you’re not gonna fall in love with me, are you?”

that’s the one deal he can’t agree to, so his only answer is a laugh. thankfully, you don’t push for anything else.

you stood to shuffle out from the booth, scooping up your things while soonyoung scrambled after you, one hand clutching his stomach.

“i gotta hit the bathroom first,” he muttered.

you laughed, practically announcing it to the surrounding café patrons. “better now than mid-thrust.”

a couple of heads turned, brows raised and mouth grimacing. before soonyoung could will himself to melt through the floor, you gave his bicep a squeeze on your way past.

“i’ll be waiting outside, soonie.”

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

the red light on the camera blinked at soonyoung as he watched you adjust its angle on the tripod. the room was cloaked in a deep purple from the LED lights lining your ceiling. he laid behind you on the bed propped up by his elbows, dick already half-hard with the knowledge of what you’re about to do to him. 

it’d be his second time being recorded and appearing on your account, though this would be the first time he’d get to have sex with you. 

he’s gone through the steps of this dance before, enough to have a reliable skillset and confidence in his abilities to make a woman happy — but you had this air to you, made him doubtful in his own capabilities. the looming audience in the form of a camera didn’t help either. 

“ready?” you asked, turning to face him on the bed. 

“yeah.” soonyoung murmured, shifting under the weight of your gaze. 

there’s a moment where you drink him in: teeth tugging your lip as your eyes drag over his body, lingering at the imprint forming at the front of his pants. he has to remind himself it’s just for show — to get him writhing for the sake of good content. 

your hands plant on the mattress, and you make a show of crawling up to him on the bed, your ass hiked in the air on full display for the camera. count him in as one of the first viewers for when you post this. 

your ass finds his lap once again, your knees bracketing his thighs. you cup soonyoung’s face for a tender moment before you’re diving in, lips finding his with an urgency he’s quick to match. 

the room fills with the sloppy, wet noises of your feral make-out. your fingers bury in his hair as his tongue breaches past your lips, and you swallow the pretty noise that leaves him when you give an experimental tug of his locks. soonyoung’s knuckles ached from where he’s been tugging at the sheets, aching to touch. 

he whines when you chew lightly on his lower lip, the sound blending into a gasp when your hips roll, clothed heat grinding down onto his lap. he can’t help himself to finally raising his hands, fingers finding your waist on instinct to guide you back and forth against him. 

you come off his lips with a wet smack, brows pinched together as you look at him. 

“hands stay there.” you murmur, returning them to the bed. 

he nods, the heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck. you swallow the sorry he tries to offer when you steal his mouth in a kiss. 

soonyoung continues to sit there, completely at your mercy as you ravage his neck and tug at his hair. your hips stay determined as they rut against him, and with each of your movements he has to restrain from flipping you both over and dryhumping you silly. not like he’d even get there — one suck of your lips below his ear and his pelvis is jolting, a whiney noise slipping from soonyoung as the warning pulses of his orgasm race to his dick. 

you recognise what’s happening and pull off. there’s an amused glint in your eye when his hands flex against the sheets, resisting the urge to reach for you. he sits there obediently as you tug his waistband and boxers down his thighs, and pull his sweater off over his head. he reminds himself to keep his hands to himself when you discard your own top — mouth watering at the sight of your bare chest. he leans forward, intending to take a nipple into his mouth without thinking. 

“lay back.” you order. he complies, breath coming out shallow when you wriggle out of your shorts and crawl back to your position above him — pussy glistening in the purple light. 

you reach for soonyoung’s pants and fish around in his pocket for the condom packet you requested he bring. you tear it open with your teeth, and he hisses from the faintest contact as you roll it down over his length. 

you prop yourself up by your knees and line up your core with him. soonyoung moans out when your hand grabs him by the base, gliding his tip through your folds and smearing with your arousal. he’s so worked up he could full well cum from it. a sharp whine from him is his way of asking you don’t tease him, and a snicker from you is your reply — nudging his head into the warm velvet of your pussy. 

he’s surprised he didn’t rip your sheets from how hard he gripped them as you sunk down on his cock, your lip bite the only evidence that he’s affecting you even a portion of the amount he feels. soonyoung lets out a filthy moan once you’re sat on his lap, his entire length buried inside you and pulsing like crazy. 

you breathe out a cuss, fingers splaying across his bare chest as you raise yourself deliberately slow, savouring the way his face contorts and his veins drag against your walls — before you drop back down with a loud slap of skin on skin.

“baby, fuck!—” soonyoung grits, cutting himself off with a moan as you set a gruelling pace on top of him. 

soonyoung’s head lolls back, his body surrendering as you fuck him. you catch him stammering the start of your name, and your hand flies out to wrap around his neck, the letters blending into strangled whimpers as your fingers press down into his pulse. 

distantly, he hears you panting out cusses and perhaps even small moans of your own, the noises sent from heaven. 

it’s been a hot minute since a girl’s done all the work for him, and the first time one’s ever choked him — so it’s no surprise that his orgasm sneaks up on him, soonyoung all but shouting as it overwhelms his body. his knuckles turn pale in the sheets as he cums, the rocks of your hips unrelenting as you fuck him through it — his condom filling up as he moans something between “baby” and “god”.

as he lays there, limp and heaving, he doesn’t even register you lingering on top of him until you’re suddenly moving to rise off him — soonyoung jolting from the sensation of your warmth moving up on his length. you clench down on him when you reach the tip, giggling at how his voice cracks with a whimper. 

“you’re perfect.” he exhales, head rolling to the side. you don’t answer as you slip the condom off of him and tie it into a knot. “the most perfect girl…” 

the bed shifts when you step off, clicking the camera off and tossing the spent condom into the bin. missing you, he cracks an eye open, watching you walk towards him with a packet of wet wipes. 

you sit on the edge of the bed as you clean soonyoung up, your fingers on the wipe the only physical contact as you keep your body at a distance. his stomach dips with something he can’t really name. 

you finally look at him. he can’t remember if you even directly met his eyes through all of the sex that just happened. he imagines how his must look right now, big brown eyes pleading. he’s almost surprised when you give him a soft smile. the camera’s off now — this one’s just for him. 

the curve of your lips falter when your eyes lower down his face, dropping to his neck. your fingers graze up, leaving featherlight touches on his pulse. you definitely felt how his heartbeat was hammering. 

“i’m sorry.” you offer. his face twists, confused. 

“why?” he asks, genuinely lost.

“we didn’t discuss choking. i shouldn’t of done that without asking.” 

“oh, no, hey— that’s fine. i think that’s when i came.” he reaches for you before stopping himself, hands hovering near your wrist. “i didn’t know i liked it.” 

“that’s why we should’ve talked about it,” you sigh, pressing a palm to your face. 

“okay, well i’m not upset, so you shouldn’t be either.” he replies matter-of-factly. you glance at him, giving a tired smile, before his chest lurches with realisation. “oh fuck, did you even cum?“

“i’m fine, soonie.” 

“that’s not fine, here let me—”

“—it’s seriously fine.” you reaffirm sternly. “i’ll take care of myself.” 

he backs down, dejected; cursing himself for not paying better attention and not caring about your pleasure and also being a lazy cunt who didn’t even try to—

“you wanna see my other camera?” you ask, cutting through his racing thoughts. it must’ve been evident with the deep frown on his face. 

“yeah.” he pipes up, crossing his legs on the bed like a kid ready for show-and-tell. you pull your shirt on before walking off towards your shelf, and soonyoung reaches for his own clothes to put on, zipping up his white sweater. 

when you return, you’re holding a polaroid camera — and soonyoung doesn’t have time to think before you’re snapping the shot. 

instinctively, he threw up a hand doing horanghae, though actually smiling for the photo had slipped his mind.

once the film slid out, you shook it and waited for the picture to bloom. your brows furrowed, lips twitching between amusement and confusion as you studied it.

“what? did it come out bad?” he asked with genuine concern.

“no, soonie, i’m just wondering what the fuck is that.” you flip the polaroid to him, pointing to how his hand is posed.

“oh that. it’s like an inside joke with my friends.”

“are you imagining groping them?”

“no no, it’s like tiger claws, since they all call me a tiger.”

he does it again, scrunching his nose and pinching his brows to play the part. he’s about to explain how it’s called horanghae when you snort with an amused glint in your eye.

“do they call you a furry too?”

“..that’s a new one.” he sighs. usually they (read: seungkwan) just call him an attention whore.

“so you’re a tiger, huh?” you smirk, playing into it. “i’ll remember it for next time.”

his mood lifts instantly. he might actually just cum on the spot over the thought of you calling him tiger in bed.

you hold the polaroid out to him. “did you want to keep it? it’s a very nice photo.”

“nah, that’s okay.” he brushes it off nonchalantly as if he couldn’t care less about material possessions, when in reality he was barely restraining the urge to snatch the polaroid from between your fingers.

damn, did he look sexy as fuck there. but the thought of you keeping a physical reminder of him, his heart just swelled over the thought. yes this was purely sex but he’s sentimental okay. he can indulge in the fact that his sneaky link slash crush keeps a polaroid of him doing his damn horanghae.

he was so bragging about this to the guys.

“bro, you fucking fumbled.”

“in front of the huzz is crazy.”

“she has a name!” soonyoung barked back at seokmin and seungkwan, who’d been tag-teaming him with insults over the fucking polaroid.

“yeah, are we gonna get to hear it this time?” seungkwan retorts, not the least bit expectant of an answer.

soonyoung had been weirdly cagey about revealing the identity of his mysterious lover. he’d told the guys that you’d been ‘hanging out’, refusing to elaborate further and answer any of their questions because he’d be physically unable to lie that it was more than just sex.

it’s not like they could just look up your name and find sights he’d much rather his best friends stay oblivious to — he just didn’t want to risk them recognising you from that same place.

soonyoung huffs, slinking back in his chair while seokmin gets to pouring them all another round in their glasses. he half wishes he dragged jihoon out of their dorm to come drink with him, it was a losing battle against these two. he wasn’t nearly distracted enough to keep his eyes from drifting your way.

as if on instinct, his eyes once again flit across the room to where you’re sat amongst a chattering group. you’ve returned exactly one of his longing stares — which was just a nod of recognition when you noticed him walk in. it’s been over an hour since then.

every time he told himself don’t look, he’d catch himself greedily stealing another glance at you across the room, laughing at some joke that couldn’t be any funnier than the ones he tells. it didn’t help that god damn jeonghan was at your side again; your fingers mindlessly playing with his gold bracelet, his mouth almost grazing your ear when he’d tell you something.

soonyoung has a near allergic reaction to seeing green. he hates the feeling of jealousy almost as much as he hates seungkwan — the former sizzling in his veins while the latter sang off-key across from him.

it’s pathetic, he knows it. he can’t help it.

he takes the initiative to drag himself towards the bar, ordering a shot to chase away the jealousy if not drown it out. he finds mingyu, friend of a friend, leaning against the counter with flushed cheeks and a glass in hand.

“yah, soonyoung! didn’t know you were here,” mingyu grins, evidently drunker than him.

“yeah,” soonyoung replied, downing his shot as soon as it landed in front of him. “needed it.”

they traded easy small talk: sport, their mutual friends, the bar playlist being garbage — until he finds himself clinking his third shot with mingyu’s glass.

though, with soonyoung, drinking alcohol was just as effective as waterboarding when it came to him spilling secrets.

“there’s this girl i’ve been seeing,” he admitted with a low voice, smirking. “she’s… something else, man. she’s got a thing for recording us while we, y’know. i didn’t realise i’d be into that before her.”

he laughed under his breath, sheepish, but also wired with a giddy kind of relief. he’d been dying to tell someone, and mingyu was safe enough — an acquaintance who’d listen, and also drunk enough to forget.

but mingyu’s grin slipped the second he said it. his eyes flickered past soonyoung for a brief moment, which he recognised as the corner where you’re sat with your friends.

soonyoung frowned, the sudden pulsing in his ears louder than the music. “what?”

he swears the tanned man’s face goes a few shades paler. when soonyoung hears your name repeated back to him, a pit opens up in his stomach.

your identity was such a well kept secret within his close circle of confidants, he’d completely overlooked the fact that your past ventures could be walking side-by-side with him on campus. and here he was having a fucking drink with one of them. 

sober him wouldn’t approve of talking about his fuckbuddy he’s kind of falling in love with right now — but unfortunately his face already translated his frantic thoughts into a hard expression, so there’s no backing out of it now.

“yeah.” is all he says. 

soonyoung doesn’t know what to expect from mingyu’s next move, but his first guess would’ve been far off from what he actually did — start crying. 

as mingyu broke down into drunken tears, soonyoung could only offer him an awkward side hug — shoving the rational part of his brain into timeout when it starts wondering if he might end up as the next mingyu, one day sobbing about his own heartbreak to someone else at the bar.

“she asked to record us too, but i said no.” mingyu manages to admit between sniffles. “i wanted to be exclusive and she ghosted me. i fumbled so fucking bad, man.” 

“i’m really sorry to hear that,” soonyoung offers, patting mingyu’s massive back while silently thanking him for messing up so that he can be tapping that ass before swatting the thought away. it’s not like him to be so crude. you must be rubbing off on him… not just physically.

“i deserved it though. her ex is one of my best friends. i shouldn’t have fucked around like that.” mingyu confesses with a trembling voice. 

soonyoung’s ears perk up at that. you had an ex? as in, someone you called your boyfriend? the same little miss ‘i don’t do relationships’?

soonyoung shouldn’t pry, because he knows he’ll just compare himself to whoever it is and might even fight him for your honour if he gets desperate enough, but his mouth asks before his conscience can catch up. 

when soonyoung asks if he knows who that is, all mingyu offers is: “i can’t tell you.”

whether that meant fate was working against soonyoung or was on his side, he did not know. but he keeps poking a stick at the wasp’s nest anyway.

“why?” soonyoung asks, too invested for mingyu to just brush him off. 

mingyu sighed with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “because if he found out i got with her, he’d fucking kill me.” 

soonyoung just nods, deciding that was the signal for another round of shots and a much needed change in topic.

he tries not to linger on the thought. can you not promise commitment because.. you’re saving soonyoung's life from your ex in doing so?

he realises he’s making far too many excuses for a relationship that’s meant to be strictly casual. especially since he’s seeing the repercussions of not honouring that deal sitting right next to him — attempting to persuade the bartender to just hand him the entire bottle of tequila instead of pouring it into his shot glass.

after failing in his bargaining and settling on downing a fourth shot (which soonyoung didn’t match this time), mingyu waved over two giggly girls from across the bar to wipe the slate clean.

they sidled into the space between him and soonyoung, voices lilting with chitchat, laughter spilling easy.

mingyu was more than eager to play along: leaning in, tossing lines that made the girls trade glances. soonyoung only spoke when spoken to. smiled enough to be polite, answered them but kept it short.

he could’ve indulged the girls — he knew how, and he might’ve even cheered himself up. but he didn’t even want to. not when all he could think about was still just you.

he wondered if you were watching, if your gaze would cut across the room and catch him like this. if it’d even put a dent in your shits to give. if you’d even care that he could so easily have another girl.

but why would you?

except, you do look. just once. soonyoung thinks his mind’s playing tricks on him when he catches it: your eyes entirely on him, face unreadable as you reach for your drink.

but then nothing. you don’t spare him a second glance for the rest of the night.

eventually, your group stands from their table as people begin to hug and say their goodbyes. he shamelessly watches you walk out the door, and in his drunken state he’s not even certain he’ll hear from you ever again until his phone buzzes in his pocket.

[ you ] i’m ready to go

you didn’t even come together. you didn’t even inform him that you were going out, it was just pure coincidence (luck in his case) that you ran into each other. but soonyoung doesn’t even hesitate when he gets your text.

in the next breath he’s slapping his knees like he just remembered something, ignoring the grumbles of his friends as he says he’s done for the night — when it was actually far from over for him.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

from when he slid in the uber’s backseat next to you, when you walked to your front door and shoved him on it as you kissed him, when you kept your tongue in his mouth as you both stumbled inside and flopped onto the couch — there hadn’t been any words. 

you didn’t offer any, and soonyoung didn’t dare fill the silence if you were choosing the keep it that way. the only noise of the room was your lips smacking with heated kisses, soonyoung’s little muffled whines as you tugged at his hair and rutted in his lap. whatever you were drunk on had you impatient, and rough — the button popping off his pants as you tore his fly open, rolling his boxers down just enough to get his dick out, bobbing and shining with precum. 

you part with him for just a moment, turning to the coffee table to rummage through your bag. soonyoung takes the opportunity to finally catch his breath, hoping it might calm his nerves. not like he’d be the one doing the fucking as usual — it just felt like his heart was beating in his throat from how he felt a little scared of you right now. he was probably gonna cum quick because of it. 

he takes deliberate breaths to calm himself like just before he heads onto the field for a game, hearing minghao’s voice in his head directing him.

the ding of a phone recording cuts through his futile attempts to meditate. he takes notices of your phone propped up on your bag, and his eyes flick back to you at the sound of ripping plastic — you tearing open a condom packet then rolling it down his length. 

without much other warning, your hand fumbles beneath your dress to tug your panties to the side, and then you’re dropping down onto his cock. 

soonyoung has a full body jolt when he bottoms out, dick twitching like a warning that he’s not gonna take long. 

you start bouncing with an almost frustrated speed — each time slamming back down onto his cock hard enough to have soonyoung seeing the galaxy behind his eyes. 

little, helpless noises leave his mouth in a stream; and though he knows the rules, he can’t help himself to reaching for your waist to slow you, to stop you completely, anything to give him a breather before he cums now. 

but you don’t let up. you pry soonyoung’s palms off from your waist, closing one hand around both of his wrists before pinning them above his head. 

soonyoung shouts out as he topples off the edge, your walls clenching down around him and wringing him dry as he cums into the condom. 

he’s sure you must be trying to kill him, because it’s not enough to get you to stop. albeit you’ve stopped dropping down onto him, you’re instead rocking on his cock like you still haven’t found what you were after. he’s trembling all over, incoherently begging between whimpers as you keep moving on top of him, sighing when the head of his cock nudges that soft spot.

your freehand slips under your dress, fingers finding your clit to rub quick circles as you ride him. you moan breathlessly, and soonyoung’s wrists struggle against where you’re keeping them pressed firm above his head. if he had any life left in him he could so easily overpower you. he might cry from how badly he wished to touch you, to feel your skin under his hands. to make you cum himself. 

soonyoung’s long past sensitive when you finally cum, letting out a pretty moan at his ear as your pussy grips and flutters around him. 

you collapse on top of him, perhaps just as spent as he is. your grip on his wrists is loose enough for him to slip his hands out. he admires the view of you laid down in his lap, face pressed into his shoulder — and before he can convince himself not to, he reaches out to hold your back, rubbing soothing circles over your dress. and maybe it’s because you’re too drunk to swat him away, but you still let him. 

after a moment of you gathering yourself in the quiet, you reach for your phone and turn the recording off. soonyoung completely forgot that was there. 

when you raise your head to him, your eyes are glossy. soonyoung almost thinks it’s something else before you’re muttering: “i think i’m ‘bout to throw up..” 

soonyoung hisses from the sensitivity as you hastily slip him out, then you’re darting down the hall and slamming the bathroom door behind you — water rushing from the tap not long after. 

soonyoung takes the liberty to slip the condom off and wipe himself up with tissues from the box on your coffee table. by the time he’s put his clothes back into place and thrown the rubbish out, you’re still in the bathroom. he decides to just wait for you on the couch until you kick him out. 

he flops back down on the cushions, head pulsing with a headache and all those shots he did with mingyu. 

his mind swirls with thoughts. how different you might act if the camera wasn’t there. if you’d even want him outside of that. how badly he wants you anyways. but he forces it all down, because he wants to keep this up. if he drags feelings into it he’ll never see you again. he made a promise to you to not ruin it. 

he yawns, eyelids suddenly weighing heavy. before he drifts off into sleep, soonyoung thinks about you one last time — just how different you acted this time.

and he wondered if maybe, you were… jealous. 

the conveniency about hooking up with a camgirl is that you’ve got a special selection of porn at the tap of a finger.

he’s been missing you like hell lately. so far, your arrangement consisted of meeting up once per week to film and get your rocks off. it made for a consistent posting schedule and money flow, so there was really no need to see each other outside of the minimum. you never asked until it was time. soonyoung asked once, yesterday — now to his complete and utter regret.

0.3 seconds after he got the notification for your newest upload, he was getting up to lock his door and loosening the strings on his sweats.

it’s a solo video of you masturbating. soonyoung jerks off to the rhythm of your hand — albeit a little pathetically since you’ve been ghosting him for an entire day after he asked if you’d like to hang out.

not code for getting in your pants. just genuinely spend time together and enjoy each other’s company. no reply.

clearly you hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth. but hey, wishful thinking: maybe you’re just fully committed to an extreme edging sesh right now, cutting yourself off from the world. soonyoung doesn’t judge. it’s actually kinda hot thinking about it.

…he needed to get a fucking grip.

he could almost go soft over the embarrassment, if only he was still hard. he busted barely a minute into the video of you fingering yourself. well.

man, he missed you.

there’s no excuse to see you. there’s no reason he should be asking. but for him, intimacy and sex are inseparable — he can’t just do one with you while starving for the other. he needed an outlet. needed to prove to himself that if he was ever going to get it up on camera again, he had to see you for something other than just sex.

he should’ve never accepted this damn offer. all these muscles are for catching feelings. was it so greedy to want more than just your body? to wonder if he actually got along with you past just physical chemistry? call it suffering from success.

soonyoung opens up your chat, cringing at his offer to hangout still sitting there unread. maybe he had to just accept his fate. at least he already jacked off, now he won’t have to worry about cumming the instant he slides in to you.

[ soonie 🐯 ] wanna fuck you so bad

he literally can’t look at his phone once it turns delivered. he should’ve asked jihoon to tie his hands. actually, nevermind, he might start to think about you and get hor—

all of his regret evaporates the millisecond he hears his phone ding with a reply.

[ you ] ok so come over?

well, he’d have to go and admit himself to a mental hospital if he even considered turning you down. 

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

“you’re doing all the work this time,” is how you greeted soonyoung when you opened the door. 

you didn’t say much else in between setting up the camera on the tripod and dropping your clothes to the floor under the violet LEDs. he watched you with caution (cock indifferent and hard anyways), like he’s convinced this is too good to be true and he’s waiting for the catch. 

once you were in recording mode, you laid down naked and propped up by your elbows — stomach to the bed and ass to the air. after a minute of nothing but stunned silence from soonyoung’s end, you glared at him over your shoulder as if to ask what the fuck he’s doing. you got him to move with a single look, shucking off his entire fit to join you on the sheets. 

soonyoung crawled on top of your back, mindful to anchor his weight in his hands to not crush you, cock prodding the meat of your ass and smearing precum across the skin. 

he keeps his hands twisted into the sheets as he catches your lips from behind, you craning your neck to meet him halfway as you kiss him. you hum when he licks into your mouth, letting him kiss you hard enough to have your head tilting back. he must’ve caught you in a good mood if you’re letting him act on his own accord, taking what he’s giving you. 

his hips find themselves square with yours; and with a mindless rut the length of his cock glides over your folds, tip nudging at your clit. you let out a pretty noise down soonyoung’s throat, and fuck, does he want to find out just how much louder he can get you. 

curious, he keeps grinding into you with deliberate rolls of his hips, applying enough pressure to your clit to have your fingers twisting into the sheets next to his. you’re moaning softly into the kisses now, and soonyoung’s sure he could cum like this. but he’s got a better idea. especially if you’re letting him make the moves today. 

he starts with a tentative kiss to your neck. you give a pleased hum, egging soonyoung on to leave wet heat across the curve of your shoulder, barely restraining himself from latching on to the skin and leaving his mark. 

he stamps kisses down your back, trailing his tongue down your spine, delighting in how your back arches at the heat of his mouth. carefully, he plants a hand on the back of your thigh, inching your legs apart. he’s crawled down to be at face-level with where he’s aching to taste you, and when his heavy breath hits your bare cunt, you’re twisting in his hold. 

“what are you—?” 

“let me?” he sighs out, careless to how desperate he sounds. he’ll get on his knees at the foot of the bed right now if he has to. “please.” 

you’re laying on your side as you regard him, brows furrowed and thighs pressing together almost imperceptibly. 

“please.” he repeats, breathless. “please let me take care of you. i really want to.” 

your lip twitches, face gradually softening. a good sign. 

you give a silent nod, and soonyoung’s sighing out the breath he’d been holding with a smile. 

you lay your head back down while soonyoung shifts below you, palm planted on your thigh and thumb stroking the skin softly to keep himself grounded. you’re almost shy with how your knees barely part. soonyoung makes do, wedging his head between the small gap between your legs until his breath’s fanning your pussy — evidently glistening with arousal, even under the heady purple lights. 

like the gentleman he was brought up to be, soonyoung leaves a gentle kiss on your clit first, smile stretching at the soft moan from above. he gathers the slick at your hole, swirling his tongue at your heat before licking a hard stripe upwards. 

he repeats the motion until you’re writhing above him, his palm tightening on your thigh to keep you in place when he starts to bob his head, tongue flattening as he laps at your clit. 

he all but pins your leg to the mattress as your hips twist and jolt under his mouth — your other leg bent at the knee and pressing at his ear, locking his head between your thighs. he’d die a happy man if you suffocated him. 

soonyoung switches between quick kitten licks of his tongue and closing his lips to suck on the bundle of nerves, fired up by the string of moans falling from your mouth. he’s determined to make up for all the times you’ve fucked when you just helped yourself to an orgasm. it’s not like he’s been less than eager to please you; he just didn’t want to ick you out by constantly offering when it seemed a no was all he could get out of you. 

maybe you’re warming up to him. maybe him asking to hangout hadn’t gone completely ignored. maybe.. he can change your mind. 

soonyoung hadn’t even realised he was rutting into your mattress until he feels that familiar tightening in his lower abdomen. your thighs are clenching around his head now, fingers buried into his hair as he eats you out like a man starved. soonyoung’s chin is covered in saliva and slick, face buried in your cunt: his tongue fucking into your hole, nose nudging your clit enough for you to be whining above him. 

your hand clenches into a fist at his scalp and he’s sure there’ll be a bald patch, but he’s undeterred — licking up to your clit before, impulsively, snaking his hand to your crotch and slipping a finger into your pussy. 

you’re vibrating around him, body buzzing with heat and mouth moaning with a mind of its own. his hips have one too; fucking into your mattress with the same force he would if he was inside you instead. when your immediate reaction isn’t to shove him away, soonyoung’s confident enough to have a second finger join the first. and when he curls them, massaging that soft spot of flesh inside, you’re completely and utterly gone. 

soonyoung’s diligent as you cum on his mouth, forcing himself to keep pace to lick and finger you through it. on the tail-end of your orgasm, he can’t hold off on his own any longer — a loud groan rumbling on your clit as he shoots ropes onto your sheets. he has to hold back on saying something as stupid as i love you from just how hard he cums. 

afterwards, you both lay there, boneless and heaving; covered in sweat and spit. 

“you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.” soonyoung gets out between laboured breaths. “please tell me you’ll let me do that again.” 

he continues to ramble as his head lolls onto your thigh, showering you in praise — that you tasted better than he could’ve imagined, that he must’ve saved the world in a past life to deserve a beautiful girl like you, as well as speaking his prior thoughts out loud of how he’d die happily from suffocation between your thighs. 

you take it all with a still face that doesn’t reveal much. you sit up, patting soonyoung’s head and reminding him of where his scalp’s been stinging from where you tugged it. 

you all but brush his words off. not in a rude way, but just.. impassive. 

“don’t say shit you don’t mean, alright.” 

he’s genuinely confused. he didn’t think he was lying. soonyoung raises his head and cocks it, glancing up at you. “why wouldn’t i mean it?” 

“you talk nonsense after you cum.” you deadpan. 

well, you weren’t wrong. there’s been a few times now where he’s rolled over after sex and said things that would have his ancestors shaking their heads, all while the camera’s still rolling. (you graciously cut those parts out before uploading it of course). 

but those instances don’t include him praising you like this. he meant what he said. he doesn’t know how else he can convince you. 

you’re already up and clicking the camera off, glancing back at soonyoung as he sits up on the bed — then arching a brow at the stain next to him. 

“my bad, i’ll.. clean that up.” 

“and you can pay for my dry cleaning bill.” you snicker, handing him a box of tissues. “did you really get naked just to eat pussy?” 

he sighs, flustered. “well, that’s not what i was planning to do but uh… it felt right. i guess. i’ve been wanting to for a bit.” he also imagined he’d get to fuck you afterwards and not just make a mess of himself. 

you smile, and he catches you try to stifle it. it has him smiling too. 

you’re in an even better mood now since you let him join you in the shower instead of just sending him home afterwards like he’d grown used to. you even ask what he felt like for lunch, letting him stay over as you waited for the delivery driver. 

soonyoung laid next to you on the bed as you scrolled on your phone and he pretended to do the same, stealing glances of you in his peripheral. he could get used to this. 

you surprise him when you pull your polaroid camera from your bedside table, raising it before he can think to strike a pose. 

this time when you snap a polaroid of him, it’s weighted with something sweet, too tender to just laugh off. something about the way you eye the film as it fades in makes his chest tighten. there’s really no use pretending anymore.

from the moment you met, soonyoung had been lying to you, and to himself. he can’t have sex and keep his heart out of it. matter of fact, it’s wrapped entirely around your finger.

“you look so boyfriend here,” you tell him with a giggle.

his heart starts breakdancing in his chest. are you trying to suggest something..? is this your way of…

“what does that mean?” he asks instead of getting on his knees and thanking god for returning your feelings.

your smile shifts into something different, it’s not lost on him. the hopeful lilt in his voice wasn’t exactly missable. you realise that he’s getting in his head over it.

“i’m just calling you hot.” you say, your former playfulness replaced by something more cautious. “like, it’s a domestic type of hot.”

“oh.”

“yeah.” you purse your lips. he’d sacrifice his left testicle to hear what’s going on in that head of yours right now.

but then the doorbell’s ringing with the arrival of the delivery driver. you don’t bring it up again over lunch, and he doesn’t dare ask. even if it’s all he can think about for the rest of the day until he’s knocked out asleep. 

soonyoung starts to wonder if he’s getting through to you. it was you who soft launched calling him your boyfriend the other day. and if he wasn’t literally going insane, he’d know for certain that there’s some unacknowledged feelings there on your end.

and what’s weirder, you actually invited him to join you at the sunday markets this morning. if you ask him, it’s a date. you had called it extended foreplay, because of course, you won’t see him if it’s not sex. you joked that all of this hanging out is just ‘buildup’ to the main event — though soonyoung’s not so convinced this time.

you keep pace with him as you strolled through the stalls. you looked whenever he’d point out a trinket that caught his eye, listened whenever he’d talk your ear off about nothing of importance. turned down all of his offers to buy you anything your eyes lingered on for more than a second. 

when passing by a flower stall, you had directed soonyoung’s attention to a pot of orange speckled tiger lilies, giggling when he literally jumped in the air with excitement. the thoughtfulness behind it made him feel all warm and sappy. if you really don’t feel the slightest drop of affection for him, then you must be a world class manipulator.

soonyoung was walking next to you with an air of confidence. you’d never been so affectionate with him outside the confines of a bedroom, let alone just inviting him to share your free time. admittedly, it got to his head, and he got too comfortable being let into your space. mindlessly, he dared to slide his hand at the back of your waist whilst you waited for your order at a food van.

his heart fell to his ass when his fingers grazed the fabric of your dress. he completely forgot he was meant to keep his hands to himself when you weren’t alone.

but to his complete and utter disbelief, instead of turning around and ripping soonyoung a new one — you leaned in to his touch, letting him cradle the small of your back in his palm. he almost fist-pumped the air. crazy how a gentle touch like this was a more difficult feat to accomplish than literally cumming inside of you.

maybe he was melting the walls of ice little miss ‘i don’t do relationships’ had built. you’re a busy woman, he knows you wouldn’t waste time like this if all you wanted was dick. maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t as one-sided as he thinks.

“yah, funny seeing you here.”

or maybe he’s just a fucking idiot and it means nothing at all — seeing as you’re moving off from soonyoung’s hand the instant you hear jeonghan’s voice call out to you, greeting him with an excitement that makes soonyoung think violent thoughts.

jeonghan slides into your space without apology, pulling you into a hug that you don’t even have to blink to return. his hand snakes down and smothers the touch soonyoung had left on your waist.

the second before you pull away, jeonghan’s eyes flick open to meet soonyoung’s stare — mouth pulling into a faint smirk. there’s no way he didn’t do that shit on purpose.

“soonyoung, hey.” jeonghan drawls as your bodies part, offering soonyoung his hand. you start towards the food van as your number’s called. once you’re out of earshot, jeonghan mutters, “i’ve heard alot.”

soonyoung only loosely takes his hand, and it barely even shakes since jeonghan doesn’t move either. he snickers — an infuriatingly cocky sound. soonyoung’s hand burns as he lets go of jeonghan’s, the ‘heard alot’ comment playing on loop, bass-boosted in his head. soonyoung hadn’t heard diddly squat about jeonghan past his name and being your best friend.

this was bad.

despite jeonghan being the intruder here, soonyoung had ended up feeling like he was third wheeling. once you returned to the two boys, you wordlessly handed your takeaway coffee to jeonghan, as if preempting him asking for a sip. he watched jeonghan’s lips touch where yours had been, green flash-banging his mind (jealousy and nausea).

you even let him readjust the lopsided strap of your dress, not even flinching as he reached for your shoulder and his fingertips grazed your skin.

had you just not warmed up to soonyoung like this yet? he knows jeonghan’s been in your life for years after all. but what had it taken for you to get to this point of comfort, trust? did you just not like soonyoung the same? what did he lack that you found in—?

“LIKE YOU’VE BEEN SHOT—”

the chorus of bangbangbang blasting from soonyoung’s pocket gives him a full body shock. you and jeonghan throw him amused looks as he fumbles around in his pants to fish out his phone, frantically sliding the alarm off.

it was a reminder to email an assignment due in 30 minutes, which he had completely forgotten about until now. he was supposed to spend his morning editing the fucking thing — before you texted, of course.

his entire day belonged to you the instant he read your invitation to see you for something that wasn’t sex. maybe this was a sign to have a serious think about his priorities.

as soonyoung’s about to explain this to you (still giggling over his alarm being bangbangbang), his luck is just the gift that keeps on giving when there’s a sudden gust of wind — effectively cutting him off.

but then it gets even better. your fucking dress flies up in the wind. and before soonyoung can even think to react (he won’t admit to himself that he froze at the sight of your thighs), jeonghan’s there first, pulling the skirt of your dress down.

you both giggle about it, and oh, does soonyoung feel like he’s walked in on something.

“nothing i havent seen before,” jeonghan smiles, eyes flicking over to soonyoung.

now what. in the fuck. was that supposed to mean.

“LIKE YOU’VE BEEN SHOT—”

soonyoung groans in frustration as he tears his phone from his pocket, making sure he actually shut the alarm off this time instead of accidentally swiping to snooze it again.

when he starts considering how much his current grade would be impacted if he just missed the due date on this assignment by staying here, there’s a brief flicker of a voice that shouts some sense back into him (probably jihoon’s).

“hey, i’ve gotta get going,” he finally gets to tell you.

“i gathered.” you chuckle. jeonghan shoots you a knowing glance that you don’t return. thank god, or else soonyoung would feel have to air the block out from how embarrassed he is right now.

he lingers, trying to find any words that aren’t just cusses directed at jeonghan.

the older of the two must sense something, since he pulls soonyoung into a half-hug, arm coming around his side to pat his back. close. intentional.

his chin dips to soonyoung’s ear. “i had it first, you know.”

when he pulls off, that damn smile could’ve convinced soonyoung himself that he was just hallucinating hearing that. but he knows what he said.

jeonghan was fucking trouble with a bob.

his farewell to you is much less remarkable. just a simple wave and bow of his head when he wishes he could kiss you with tongue right in front of your estrogen male ass best friend.

on the drive home, in which he drove in silence and cut off a poor old lady in his frustration, soonyoung couldn’t stop thinking on it. ended up sending a half-edited draft 7 minutes after it was due anyways because the words on the screen kept blurring together.

jeonghan’s your best friend, so obviously he’s gotta know about your side hustle. especially if it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. like, what the fuck does that even mean? he thought he was just assuming the worst when he saw you two interacting and instantly thought there was sexual tension.

do you have the same no-strings-attached arrangement with him? do you film with him? do you prefer him? is he better than soonyoung?

if that was all just ‘extended foreplay’ like you said, you’ll probably be pent-up and have to release your energy onto the closest guy available which would be jeong—

“you good in there?”

the sound of jihoon’s voice from the door cuts through soonyoung’s racing thoughts.

he finds himself bent over the sink, throat burning with bile and gagging as he fights off the urge to hurl over the thought of what you must be up to with jeonghan.

“‘m fine,” he calls back, not sounding the slightest bit convincing.

“bro, i had my headphones on with the music at max volume and i still couldn't tune you out.”

“uhh..”

the door knob turns as jihoon grabs it on the outside, and the both of them realise that soonyoung forgot to even lock the damn thing.

“i’m coming in.”

soonyoung regards himself in the mirror then. his eyes are watery, face flushed pink with hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. he looked like shit. jihoon tells him as much when he stepped in.

“what’s happened?” jihoon appears behind him in the mirror, meeting soonyoung’s eyes through their reflections. “is this.. that girl?”

just that girl. jihoon doesn’t have a name or face to match to you — doesn’t even know what soonyoung could see in you since your identity’s a mystery. but he knows just how much soonyoung adores you, how much the casual sex means to him for whatever reason. even if it’s got him bent over the sink, nauseous. it’s why jihoon treads lightly as he speaks.

“yeah, uh,” soonyoung runs a shaky hand through his damp hair. he wishes he was vomiting right now so he wouldn’t have to admit this out loud instead. he gulped. “she might be seeing another guy.”

for all he knew, it could’ve been guys, plural. he gags over the sink again, catching jihoon’s face twist in the mirror.

“aish, man.” he shook his head and walked up to his best friend, planting a hand on his shoulder. soonyoung resists the urge to just spin around and kidnap jihoon in a hug. but he’d hit him for it, and he’s in enough pain on the inside. so he settles for just nuzzling his head onto where jihoon’s fingers sit atop his shoulder.

“you can’t.. see another girl too?”

jihoon was just as much as a devout romantic as him — maybe even worse off since soonyoung at least didn’t write songs about his ex. jihoon should understand him more than anyone. but really, he’s not coming from the wrong place.

it’s not like soonyoung signed a contract for his dick to get hard for you and only you from this point forward. or for his heart to start beating like it’s about to give out when you smile at him or laugh at his unfunny jokes or look at him likes he’s the only one you want too.

he wishes it would just abruptly stop pumping when he remembers that just as you never laid out rules for him to not see anyone else, he hadn’t done the same. not like he had any right to, but it was too late now. he’s fallen so hopelessly for a girl he could’ve been sharing this entire time for all he knows.

“i can’t get over her,” soonyoung croaks out, both to jihoon and to himself. “she drives me crazy but she’s all i want and i can’t do anything about it. just let her have me whenever she asks.”

jihoon sighs. “that’s grim.”

“i’ve read way worse in the songs you wrote about—”

jihoon swats the back of his head, and a laugh bubbles from soonyoung’s chest.

“alright. i should probably have a shower,” soonyoung starts, already moving to peel his shirt over his head.

jihoon groans. “just don’t use all the fucking hot water like the last time you cried in there.”

“my bad.”

the door shuts with a click, soonyoung checking his phone as he moves to turn the lock.

[ you ] hey u free now?

thank god jihoon’s on the other side of this door so he can’t stare soonyoung down with disappointment as he types a reply.

[ soonie 🐯 ] be over soon

like a dog to a bone.

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

it’s almost pathetic how soon he’s there after receiving your text. you don’t offer any words as you tug him inside by his collar, already burying your hands under his shirt as you greet him with a kiss. 

the camera’s already set up and recording by the time you get him onto your bed. you don’t waste any time in getting straight to the main event. not that he’s complaining, but he can’t help but think. he’s been doing that alot these days in between seeing you. 

he wonders if maybe you asked someone else first and soonyoung only got a text because that person was busy. or maybe you just asked soonyoung because he doesn’t even question it, because he doesn’t make you wait when you ask. 

soonyoung finds himself reaching for your hand as he fucks you, and you might not even notice his fingers curling around your palm as you moan underneath him, eyes screwed shut. 

he wonders if maybe you’re picturing someone else behind those eyes. 

despite the thoughts swirling relentlessly in his head, soonyoung doesn’t allow himself to cum until you get there first. he’s so out of it that it’s your real name he moans as the fills up the condom inside you. 

you lay there, stiff and quiet, while soonyoung’s still shuddering from the aftershocks of his orgasm and something else you don’t immediately realise. his face is buried in the crook of your neck, and when he wets your shoulder, that’s when you’re turning your head towards him. 

“soonyoung, are you crying?” 

“no.” he sniffles. 

you slide him off your body, leaving him laying on the bed as you reach for the camera to click the recording off. it was no good to post anyways since he called you by your name. 

you huff, frustrated. “you could’ve told me if now was a bad time—”

“it’s not that.” he sits up. you almost flinch, seeing his red-rimmed eyes and trembling bottom lip. “of course i wanted this. god, i want you all the damn time—” 

he shakes his head at himself. you just stand there, taken aback. 

“where is this coming from?” 

“where hasn’t it come from??” he raises his voice momentarily before cooling over. when he speaks again, his voice is barely there. “do you even want me?”

“soonie, i literally just came on your dick—”

“but do you like me? is it because it’s me or because i say yes when your other boys don’t? you know i’d never turn you down. and i feel stupid.” 

“what the fuck do you mean ‘my other boys’??” you all but shout, incredulous. 

“well i gathered that i’m not the only one, right? you might post me but that’s not stopping you from seeing who you want outside of it.” 

you just shake your head with a scoff, eyes burning with something between offence and disbelief. “like who, huh?” 

you’re daring him to take the bait. he should’ve choked himself out before he did exactly what you were hoping he wouldn’t. 

“jeonghan.” he replies. 

your lip curls, and you smile, though there’s nothing but anger in it. 

“why? you think i’d just let anyone fuck me, is that it?” 

“that’s not what i—”

“—get out.” you spit. 

for a moment, soonyoung just sits there, eyes losing focus as the room becomes a whirring blur around him. 

“alright. but i’m not doing this anymore.”

you watch him in a stunned silence as he moves to gather his clothes from around the floor.

“what?” you finally reply. 

“i can’t keep doing this.” he keeps his eyes trained on his clothes as he rushes to tug them on his body. if he looks up at you, he knows he’ll have second thoughts. “it’s killing me.”

he keeps his head bowed as he walks past you to retrieve his keys and phone from the dresser. 

“we had a deal—”

“fuck the deal!” he snaps, finally turning to you. he has to keep his gaze ahead, to stare through you. your body’s still bare, and your face is etched with something that’d make his chest ache to see. 

he goes on, “i can’t keep seeing you just once per week and tolerate you ignoring me outside of that when i’ve had a massive fucking crush on you since we met. and yeah, i can’t believe i’m saying this out loud either. but all i wanna do is be around you and talk to you and make you laugh and i know you don’t want the same. so we should just stop wasting each other’s time.”

he gulps, trying not to think about how your frown grew even deeper with his words. “i’m sorry for disrespecting your rules. i wasn’t honest with you, and i’m sorry.” 

that’s all he leaves you with as he turns to leave, seeing himself out. you don’t call after him either. 

jihoon finds out the following day when he comes home from the gym and unwillingly showers in ice cold water despite the hot knob being turned to full blast.

he knocked once on soonyoung’s door, waited for a beat of silence, then opened it anyway. the room’s pitch-dark except for the faint glow of his phone. 

soonyoung’s wrapped in a blanket cocoon, earbuds in. jihoon can just make out eyes, nose, lips bleeding from where he must be playing it in his ears at full blast.

jihoon quietly closes the door again. this was above his pay grade. it was time to call for backup.

a few minutes later, the cavalry arrives — seungkwan and seokmin storm in, flicking the lights on and yelling his name loud enough to guarantee a noise complaint.

they smother him immediately: hugs, head pats, a few hits to the arm. 

when they all finally settle down, soonyoung’s on his computer chair facing the three of them lined up on his bed like an intervention panel.

he cracks without much coercion. it all comes spilling out: the truth about you, how you met, what you do, the filming, the fight, all of it. by the time he’s done, his ears are burning.

seungkwan snaps his fingers. “i knew i’d heard of her before!”

soonyoung cringes, burying his face in his hands. “please don’t tell me you’ve seen...”

“what— yah, what are you saying?” seungkwan’s face twists in disgust. “i meant i’d heard she was a camgirl. from someone else.”

“oh.” he’s too shellshocked to express the sheer amount of relief he feels. 

“i was gonna tell you that night at the party before she came over to the table,” seungkwan continues, shrugging. “but then you started seeing each other, so i figured she told you. didn’t think you were game to being posted though.”

“me neither,” soonyoung admits with a coy laugh.

seungkwan rolls his eyes. “seriously. ‘don’t tell me you’ve seen’, who do you think i am?”

“yeah, who do you think he is?” seokmin pipes up. “you know he doesn’t watch porn with women.”

“can you both not—”

“what was her name?” jihoon cuts in, voice low and serious. 

the question stills the room. soonyoung tells him without much else thought. but the second he does, jihoon’s expression falls — and soonyoung’s stomach with it.

for a split second, he worries jihoon might know you from some past hookup — or god forbid, your side hustle. but the truth turns out to be so much worse than anything his panicked brain could’ve imagined. 

“that’s seungcheol’s ex.” jihoon sighs. 

oh. 

oh, of course. of fucking course.

his brain scrambles through the connections — seungcheol, his team captain, built like a small mountain and fueled by pure anger issues. if he finds out soonyoung’s been sleeping with his ex, he’ll probably turn him into a cautionary tale. 

he remembers it all clearly now. seungcheol’s endless rants about his high school sweetheart who broke his heart, about you. the jealous sulking, the bitterness over you moving on ‘too fast’, convinced you were cheating on him with your best friend — jeonghan, he realises. 

it all clicks into place. no wonder you don’t do relationships. no wonder you got so defensive when soonyoung accused you of sleeping around. he’d hit a bruise seungcheol left before it could fade.

soonyoung sighs, dragging a hand down his face. he owed you an apology written in the fucking stars. except, he might actually just be the next face on a milk carton. and hey, the pussy is to die for, but he’d much prefer if he could live to tell you he’s sorry for drawing conclusions. 

“hey,” jihoon’s voice pulls him back. “cheol hasn’t talked about her in ages. trust me, i’d know — mingyu complained whenever he would. but i haven’t heard a thing in months. i’d say he’s over it. the worst that could happen is you get benched for a few weeks.” 

“yeah, and if she’s been seeing anyone else, we’d have heard cheol sulking about it by now.” seokmin adds.

soonyoung chews his lip, hesitating. “well, i know she at least slept with mingyu.” 

the silence that follows is short-lived.

“wait— what?!” seungkwan practically shrieks, covering his mouth. “you’re kidding. mingyu? oh my god, that’s who he wouldn’t talk about?”

seokmin chuckles and pats soonyoung’s back hard, earning an oof from him. “then what are you stressing about? cheol’s got bigger fish to fry.” 

“okay, yeah. that’s worse.” jihoon clears his throat. “anyway, forget him. he’s old news. what matters is you and her — and it sounds like you both weren’t totally honest with your feelings.”

soonyoung slumps in his chair. “are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“i’m saying she did more than just sleep with you when that was against her own rules. if there were really no strings on her end, she’d have let you go without an argument.”

and jihoon’s right. you might’ve kept things casual on the surface — one night a week, no labels — but there were cracks in the lines you drew. the polaroids, stealing him from the bar after a girl flirted with him, showering together and ordering takeout. calling him so boyfriend with a genuine smile, the weekend market date before he blew it all up. 

it wasn’t nothing. maybe you liked him more than you were prepared for. things probably could’ve naturally progressed into a relationship with time if soonyoung had just kept his trap shut. 

seokmin hums, shaking him by the shoulder. “go see her. you’re outnumbered here. and if she turns you down, you can blame all of us.”

soonyoung huffs a laugh, the weight on his chest easing a little. “yeah. okay.”

“right.” seungkwan slaps his knees, rising. “who else needs a drink?”

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

you open the door to find soonyoung standing there: hair a mess, eyes big and pleading. in his hands is a box of polaroid film and the bouquet you’d been eyeing off at the markets last weekend — the one you kept circling back to yet refused to let him buy for you.

“i’m an idiot,” he blurts before you can even say anything. “and i jumped to conclusions and i didn’t follow your rules and i’m really, really sorry.” the words tumble out fast, like he’s racing against the door you could still slam in his face.

you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. “did you practise that?”

“no. just panicked the whole way here.”

a beat passes. you sigh, stepping aside. soonyoung exhales a breath of relief and follows you in.

you each sit on opposite ends of the couch, neither sure how to start. he sets the flowers and the film on your coffee table, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“i shouldn’t of assumed,” he says finally. “you told me what this would be, and i had no right to expect anything from you outside of it.”

you look at him. “you thought i was fucking others.”

he flinches. “i didn’t— okay, yeah, i did. but it was a stupid thought and i didn’t want to. it’s just, jeonghan said—”

you let out a dry laugh. “oh, of course he did.”

he looks confused, and that almost makes it worse — because he doesn’t know what that name stirs in you. you press your palms against your knees, steadying yourself. “seungcheol used to accuse me of the same thing. about jeonghan. about anyone who looked at me for longer than two seconds, actually. he never trusted me.”

“seungcheol—”

“don’t.” your voice is sharp. then softer: “that’s why it pissed me off so much when you said it. you don’t know how much it reminded me of him.”

he nods slowly, eyes on his hands. “i get it now. i’m really sorry.”

you study him for a long moment. his shoulders are hunched, his voice small — it’s strange, seeing him like this after everything.

“i’m… selective,” you say finally. “with who i sleep with. i don’t just, do it. i liked you. that’s why i was so sure of it the night we met. i hadn’t done that in, i don’t know. a long while.”

you grimace to yourself, and soonyoung recognises that you must be referring to your lapse with mingyu.

silence again. not the cold kind — just heavy, charged.

“i haven’t slept with anyone else since i met you,” you admit. “i couldn’t. it scared me, how much i cared. you made it feel different.”

“me neither.” he looks up at you then, something splitting open in his chest. “you did too. i don’t think i ever believed i could handle casual. i just wanted to be close to you, however i could.”

you let out a breath, a small smile tugging at your mouth. soonyoung dares to inch closer to you on the couch, scooting over until his knee’s nudging yours. you watch his hand creeping over to yours, letting him hook a finger around your pointer.

“so where do we go from here?” soonyoung asks, voice soft.

“baby steps.” you reply. “we’ll just do what feels right.”

neither of you speak it out loud, but you both agree — there’s the outline of something exclusive now. not like it wasn’t basically already, and you still had yet to give this a name, but there’s no room for debate now. you belonged to one another.

“...well,” soonyoung starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “you can keep posting. makes me feel kinda good, actually — that i’m the one who gets to have you when everyone else’s just watching.” he pauses, lip twitching. “also because i’m a little scared of you.”

you laugh, the tension in your chest finally easing. “good answer.”

soonyoung’s own laugh thins out when a particular name bubbles to the surface. “and jeonghan…”

you raise a brow. “what about him?”

“i’m not implying anything. i just want to know what his deal with me is. at the markets, it seemed like he kept trying to make me jealous.”

“you know he’s gay, right?”

“oh.” soonyoung blinks. a beat. “god, i’m so stupid.”

you chuckle, rubbing his arm. “he was curious how much you liked me. he would’ve been testing you to see if you got bothered by him.” well, he passed that with flying colours. “but it’s okay. he’ll back off now, promise.”

soonyoung nods. your fingers slide over his cheek, and he doesn’t even blink before leaning in to press his mouth to yours. when you smile in to the kiss, he does too.

you go down on the couch together, his body pressed firm on top of yours. soonyoung squeezed at your cheek, your waist, your thigh. he sighed from relief into the kiss when your tongue brushed past his lips.

“god, i missed you,” he breathed out. “felt like i was gonna die in my room.”

you hum as his lips close around your neck, hot mouth latching to the skin. “mm, you’ll have to show me how bad.”

as if on command, he parts from you and moves to get off laying on you. you halt him with a hand closed around his bicep.

“don’t you want to get the camera set up first?” he asks.

you look at him for a moment, brows furrowed. your hold on his arm loosens, and then tightens again, tugging him back down to press against your body.

“no.” you smile.

if he wasn’t about to get laid he’d cry tears of joy.

this time when you had sex, it feels as if nothing’s changed, yet it’s somehow entirely new. you’re still in tune with his body, as much as he is with yours. you let him kiss you and hold you and there was no doubt in his mind as he moved. you’ve been his just as much as he’s been yours. now it didn’t exist solely in a shadowed corner of the internet.

afterwards, you both lay on the couch, limp and breathless from three rounds of fucking each other’s brains out. making up for lost time, soonyoung had joked somewhere during the second.

once life returned to his body, soonyoung padded over to your bedroom and returned with your polaroid camera.

you don’t even flinch as he held the camera to your bare chest, letting him snap a photo of your tits.

“pervert.” you snort.

when the film slides out, he shakes it vehemently until colour blots in, making a show of woofing and growling at the polaroid.

you covered your face in your hands, giggling. soonyoung flops back down to lay his head on your chest, peppering your skin in kisses.

“can i get one of us kissing? or are you too icked out now?”

labels were nice. soonyoung had only been calling you his girlfriend for a day, and that alone felt like something worth celebrating — which is how you both ended up inviting your friends out for drinks.

funny how everything about your relationship seemed to happen backwards. you started with sex the night you met, and now, months later, he was just getting used to holding your hand in public — to actually calling you his girlfriend.

business was booming too. your followers couldn’t get enough of soonyoung, and he was pleasantly surprised to hear that engagement had skyrocketed once you confirmed you were really dating. everything just… worked out. for once, it felt simple. loving you was easy. it was nice.

you’d left to grab drinks, leaving soonyoung’s side with a coo in his ear; your hand slipping from his thigh with a playful brush that lingered in his mind.

across the booth, seungkwan and jeonghan were bickering like they’d known each other for years — a friendship that had apparently sparked the moment you introduced them. jeonghan had brought another friend of yours, joshua, who seokmin had been fawning over without an ounce of shame. even jihoon had made it out (after you practically dragged him), sitting quietly with a faint smile and cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol.

soonyoung’s still laughing at an insult jeonghan had tossed seungkwan when his eyes flick over to the bar, searching for his beautiful girlfriend — then catching you leaning in to say something to a tipsy-looking seungcheol.

the smile drops from his face before he even realises it. the noise of the bar dulls to static, his chest tightening like the room’s closing in on him. but then you’re straightening up, offering seungcheol the same polite smile you’d give a stranger, and walking away without another glance.

when you return, you set a drink in his hand, then settle yourself right into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. soonyoung looks at you, then at your drink, then back at you again.

“what was that about?” he asks, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

you take a sip before answering, eyes glinting. “he said he wanted to catch up. i said i was just here to get a drink for my boyfriend.”

if you weren’t sitting on him, he’d have probably jumped up and punched the air. his grin splits wide across his face.

“your boyfriend, ey? that means i’m a dead man. you know cheol’s my team captain.”

you shrug, leaning closer, lips brushing his ear. “guess i’ll have to kill him before he can try.”

soonyoung laughs, the sound bubbling out of him like it can’t be helped. others around the table notice, jeonghan in particular shooting you a soft smile. he’d been soonyoung’s biggest cheerleader since you started dating — even if he had questionable methods for playing wingman.

“you’re so romantic, baby.” soonyoung drawls.

you kiss him, soft at first — and then less so when he leans into it, hands gripping your waist before he remembers where you are. it’s almost enough to make him forget the crowd around you, at least until a familiar bass rumbles through the speakers.

he groans under his breath. “of course.”

it’s bae bae. he shakes his head, recalling your first meeting. seungkwan and seokmin crack up into laughter from across the table, the trio all thinking the same thing — how he got hard on the dance floor.

soonyoung flushes, jabbing a finger at dumb and dumber. “yah, did one of you assholes ask them to play this?”

you pull back with a smirk, quoting yourself from that night: “you know this one?”

he turns to you, gulping. “yeah. just… give me a minute.”

he shifts beneath you, and you laugh when you feel his current predicament prodding into your ass. you steal another kiss from his lips, light enough to have him chasing after you, just like the first time.

“you’re such a loser.” you giggle.

“yeah,” he says, grinning up at you. “but i’m your loser.”

M.LIST ⋮ TAGLIST

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윤정한 / jeonghan

Jeonghan wouldn't question it at all when you brought up how you wanted to see him in a skirt/dress. Honestly he lives to please you. When you're pleased he's pleased. He'd not care that it isn't socially acceptable because he never really cared for norms or gender stereotypes anyway. Please call him your cute Prince or else he'll feel self-counscious every time he wears a skirt/dress.

"Of course, Mommy," he answered your question and let you put it on him — he liked the attention, the touching and letting you take off and put on his clothes like he was your doll.

He did a little twirl and asked with his sweet voice "Do I look cute, Mommy?"

In the future, he'll have a big collection of different styles of skirts — and he loves matching them with thigh highs. He loves feeling pretty and he loves being called pretty.

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홍지수 / joshua / josh

Joshua wouldn't believe his ears when he heard your request... He'd love it and immediately put on the skirt/dress with no problem whatsoever — he'd be pretty educated on anything about boys in skirts but don't ask him about it. Prepare your camera, he'd love to have his photo taken. Especially on a polaroid camera, so you can save the pictures in a filthy photo album.

"I look pretty, right?" he spread his legs a little, leaning forward with his arms in the middle as a pose for the picture.

"So pretty, Princess," you said as you photographed him.

He smiled and posed some more.

In the future he'll go further with it, surprising you every now and then with thigh-high socks or stockings and who knows what more. If you don't know what to buy for him as a gift, go for a blush colored little skirt.

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文俊辉 / jun

Total brat. Jun would make a big deal out of it just to get on your nerves. This was a fun game to him. He'd say something just to piss you off so you could punish him.

"Hmm no, Mistress. That's just stupid."

You slapped his thigh.

Suddenly he listened to you and did what you told him.

"I look better than you in this, Mistress," he smirked.

He'll use it as a way to effectively receive punishments. In fact, he might even send you a pic in a short skirt when you're at work or hanging out with friends, just to tease you so you could give him pain in the night.

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권순영 / hoshi / soonyoung

He would do anything for his Mommy. He's such a good boy for you! Being an angel for you was always one of his main priorities but he also liked being a demon every now and then. With a blush he would put on the skirt and crop top you'd bought for him in front of you just to tease you. Your eyes on him would turn him on.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" you asked as you looked him up and down.

"Is it working, Mommy?" he straddled you to make the skirt/dress rise up his naked legs.

This will be something he'll use as a tool to make you drool, surprising you in a skirt and crop top on special occasions.

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전운우 / wonwoo

He would be a brat about it at first but he'd put on a skirt/dress for you in the end — fuck, he'd even put on a Shrek costume if you asked him. He'd act like he totally didn't like the way the skirt made his legs look and would whimper-complain like a bitch about wearing a skirt/dress, but he also wants to keep the skirt on while you fuck him so.

"Pfft."

You spanked his ass.

Hard.

"Okay," he stripped in a second in front of you shamelessly.

"Can you put it on for me, Master, please?" he asked in a low voice and looked you in the eyes innocently.

He wasn't innocent.

Skirts will be his favorite over dresses because then you could both fuck him and play with his nipples at the same time! But he won't tell you that unless you break him down into tears and whimpers.

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이지훈 / woozi / jihoon

He would protest at first. No, he was already small and played around with — a lot at that — and that was enough. However, if you were to say he'd get a reward for just putting on a skirt/dress he wouldn't hesitate to do it.

"No, I won't do it!" he pouted.

"Not even for a reward?" you asked, as you knew his weakness.

His ears perked up, "What kind of reward are we talking about?"

"Whatever reward you want, Baby."

He'll do whatever you want if he gets rewarded. So make sure to reward him really well and he will dress up for you more often.

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❝ Baby, keep me wetter than a bayou (Bayou)

If you don't, I'ma walk right by you ❞

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Hoshi

Is the one to bring it up, because what's better than one cock ruining him? Two!

He'd be begging his members to join you two in bed cause he just needs to be stretched to his limit. Would love to try double penetration, or triple or as many cocks as you give him.

He'd be nakedly waiting on all fours for you and your guest to come home and ruin him over and over and over.

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Minghao

Would agree, but only on the condition that he won't be the bottom. He wants you to be the only person to see him in a subby mindset.

But he would love it if you were watching him please someone else and telling him what to do next.

His person of choice would be either Jun or Hoshi, since he's closest to Jun but Hoshi is a certified hoe who would definitely be down for anything.

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Dino

contemplates the pros and cons

Although he likes the idea of giving pleasure to more than one person and being used for his body, he wouldn't be able to help the thought that you'd to fall in love with his bandmate.

Since he is the youngest one, he feels as though he's less experienced and therefore worse at sex and if you were to invite someone else into the bedroom you'd end up enjoying their company more than his.

Therefore he'd want his threesome fantasies to stay just that, fantasies.

-

masterlist

-

His head is tipped back to rest against the glass of the mirror, athletic shorts not even pulled halfway down his legs. Sweat drips down his neck and you chase it with your tongue, fingers wrapped around his cock, the weight solid and warm against your palm.

“You’re so wet, baby.” The slide is made so easy by pre-cum and he whimpers, tries to keep his voice down to match your whisper but doesn’t quite manage it. He’s tired, satisfied after long hours of practicing that finally culminated in something he was proud of, and now you were rewarding him for a job well done in a way that he didn’t think he deserved but always craved.

“Feels good..” He tries to be vocal - likes to be vocal, to tell you how happy you make him, how good you make him feel, how much he appreciates it, but sometimes it just gets so hard, too focused on breathing and moaning and trying not to burst into flames with the way you stoke a fire inside of him that burns so hot he swears it’s going to consume him.

“Yeah?” Your question is a hot whisper against his ear and his hips jerk into your hands once, sharp, fingers curled into fists on the ground on either side of him. Every flick of your wrist makes the fire burn hotter, brighter, and he’s shaking and nodding and murmuring something that sounds like a plea when it hits him in a wash of heat, everything white and bright and strong.

How quickly the heat is chased by chills - you don’t stop your hand and he can’t tell if he’s even alive anymore, can barely get a breath in, feels your teeth at his pulse-point on his neck and it’s all too much, wonderful, it’s all he wants and his muscles ache with the type of sweet pain that lets him know he’s worked hard today. He can’t stop shaking.

“Make a mess for me again, Soonyoung. Spill all over my hand and your shorts, baby. Show me how good it feels.”

His cry cracks in his throat, much too loud considering your location, but he doesn’t care because everything hurts in such a good way and you’re telling him how perfect he is and how beautiful he is and he just feels euphoric, wrecked, like an absolute mess.