PAIRING: TA!wonwoo x TA!reader
GENRE: college au, e2l, smut/suggestive [18+ MDNI]
WC: 5,699
WARNINGS: kissing sloppy style, semi-public sex but like barely, light breast play, dry humping, they're a lil toxic but it's fine, fade-to-black sex
A/N: requested by @minisugakoobies for my milestone event!! sorry i made him so annoying in this asfkhasjfdf but i hope you like it ♡ (not beta'd)
SUMMARY: Your TA job would be perfectly fine and well if it weren't for your pretentious, nearly-insufferable coworker. Wonwoo seems to have made it his life mission to do everything in his power to irritate you, which is why you're blindsided when he asks you on a date completely out of the blue one day.
Every single thing Wonwoo Jeon does pisses you off.
It's bad enough having a co-TA that's pretentious as fuck. You studied English in undergrad, and every single male English major you ever met was a big-headed know-it-all, so you're (unfortunately) used to the type. But on top of being full of himself, Wonwoo has apparently made it his life's mission to do everything in his power to one-up you in every regard. No matter how early you show up to anything, he is somehow always already there; no matter how fast you grade papers, he's always finished well before you; no matter what the discussion subject is, he always has to repeat everything you say in a way that sounds smarter than the way you said it. There are seven trillion nerves in the human body, and he manages to get on every single one of them.
So when you walk into your own office hours one day to see him sitting at your desk, talking to your students, it takes everything in you not to snap.
"Wow, I wasn't expecting to see you at my office hours!" you say with a forced grin, your words dripping with sarcasm.
"Y/n, how lovely of you to show up," he smiles smugly at you. "I thought I'd use my free time to actually help out our students."
"Well aren't you a saint."
"Just doing my job."
"That's funny, because you seem to be doing my job right now."
"Well now, I wouldn't have to do your job if you were capable of showing up on time."
"I am only," you scowl, lifting your wrist to glance at your watch. "Four minutes late."
"You're right," he waves his hand dismissively. "It's fine to waste people's time if it's only four minutes."
The two undergrads sitting between the both of you look visibly uncomfortable. There's a lot of things you wish to say right now, none of them polite — but since you have an audience, you refrain.
"Well, since you clearly don't need me here, I'll just go home then," you tell Wonwoo with a huff. "Have fun running my office hours."
You storm off before he can say anything else, letting the door slam shut behind you.
You're fuming all the way home. Normally, you are very patient with others, even when it comes to jerks with less than savory personalities — but something about Wonwoo grinds your gears like nothing else. The problem is that he knows he can get under your skin with bare minimum effort, and, for whatever fucking reason, he takes every opportunity he can to weaponize this against you.
With your unanticipated bit of free time, you decide to channel your rage into productivity, working on your thesis for the remainder of the afternoon. Thankfully, it works, and by dinnertime you've forgotten all about your annoying coworker.
The next day is off to a great start. You got up early, giving yourself plenty of time to stop by the campus cafe and grab a bagel and coffee. You sip the hot beverage as you walk to the Literature Hall for your 10am discussion, strolling along with an extra bit of pep in your step as you enjoy the peaceful, pleasant morning. Everything is going great — until you step into the classroom and see Wonwoo sitting at one of the desks in the back, stretched out casually like he fucking lives here.
"Oh, what are you doing here today Wonwoo?" you ask with a faux grin, playing dumb. There's already a handful of students in the room, so despite the fact that you're suddenly seeing red you are forced to be civil.
"Oh, just had some free time this morning," he answers blithely. "Thought I'd pop in and join the discussion."
"You sure seem to have a lot of free time for someone in grad school," you remark.
Wonwoo shrugs arrogantly. "What can I say, I'm efficient at managing my time."
You would love to walk back there and slap that dumb look off his dumb face. Instead you decide to ignore him for the remainder of the hour — a task that proves to be unfeasible, due to his constant self-insertion into the conversation. Unfortunately, he is extremely smart and articulate, so the students eagerly engage with his bullshit.
It's the fucking Great Gatsby, you think to yourself. Does he really have nothing better to do than flex his knowledge on a boring, easy book to a bunch of clueless freshmen??
The remainder of hour passes at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you wish to bang your head against the wall about it. At five-til Wonwoo decides to bring up a completely new topic, seemingly trying to get this session to drag on forever, but you're not having any of it today.
"Very interesting points you bring up there, Wonwoo," you loudly interrupt him. "But class is over now. Next week we will discuss the remaining chapters, so be sure to finish reading the book before then."
The students begin to shuffle out, and Wonwoo is quick to make his exit.
"Oh, Wonwoo, I had a question for you," you call out to him before he can make it out of the room, but he doesn't stop.
"Sorry, gotta run," he replies smugly. "Feel free to shoot me an email if you want to talk!" With a wave he zips out the door and disappears.
Needless to say, you did not shoot him an email; but by late-afternoon, much to your chagrin, he is in your inbox anyway.
Dear y/n,
You had a question for me earlier, however I noticed that you hadn't reached out to me about it yet, so I figured I'd contact you since you clearly forgot. What can I help you with?
Best,
WJ
"Pretentious little fucking prick," you grumble to yourself. You delete the email and shut your laptop.
After a lovely, Wonwoo-free weekend, you have the misfortune of starting off your week with him in your weekly TA/professor check-in first thing Monday morning. Of course, despite you getting there ten minutes early, Wonwoo is already in Professor Sosa's office, balls deep in some bullshit conversation about whatever bullshit book he's been reading recently. You sit down in the remaining chair, without a word, waiting for them to be done so you can get this painful meeting over with — but to your dismay, neither one of them seem to be in any rush. You peek at your watch a couple times, trying not to appear as annoyed as you currently are. Wonwoo definitely notices, though.
"I could talk about Wallace's use of the unreliable narrator for days," he grins, turning to you. "But I don't want to bore y/n any further. Shall we get started on the midterm?"
You take a deep breath as the professor begins to discuss the essay topics. You're going to try your hardest not to let him get on your nerves this early in the day — a task that's already proving itself to be a challenge. The next thirty minutes drag on at the slowest imaginable pace; you do your best to focus on the work at hand, but of course Wonwoo keeps going off on ostentatious tangents, and purposefully dragging you into the conversations no less. When the meeting finally ends, you're ready to book it out of there; you reach for your notebook sitting on the table beside you, but despite you just sitting it down a few moments ago it's not there. You look around, but you don't see it on the floor anywhere. Maybe you put it away already — but a peek into your backpack comes up empty-handed.
You notice Wonwoo watching you, wearing his usual arrogant expression, but you ignore him. The moment the professor leaves, he leans over to you.
"Looking for this?" he asks smugly, holding your missing notebook out to you. You go to grab it, but he quickly pulls it back out of reach.
"Seriously?" you ask, not bothering to hide your exasperation.
"What's the rush?" he taunts. "I know you don't have anywhere to be until 2."
"And how would you know that?" you narrow your eyes at him.
"I memorized your schedule."
You stare back at him, looking genuinely confused. "Why??"
He shrugs. "Figured it'd be good to know."
You'd love to know exactly what he means by that, but you don't want to make this conversation any longer than necessary.
"Well isn't that just wonderful," you say as sarcastically as possible, rising to your feet; Wonwoo follows suit. "Now will you give me my notebook back?"
You reach for it again, but he lifts it above his head — well out of your reach.
"What the actual fuck is your problem?!" you raise your voice. He looks surprised, but a cocky grin spreads across his face.
"It's okay, y/n, I'm just messing with you."
"Well, don't!!"
You glare at him, but he still wears that dumb, satisfied smirk.
"You don't have to act like you hate me, you know."
"It's not acting."
"Of course it's not," he smiles, unbothered. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."
"Okay," you sigh exasperatedly. "What do you want to ask me, Wonwoo?"
"What's your favorite restaurant?"
"What??"
"Your favorite restaurant," he repeats. "I'd like to take you out to dinner."
You stand there aghast. "You're not serious," you say to him.
"I am."
"What on earth makes you think I want to go on a date with you?!"
"It doesn't have to be a date," he responds. "We can go as friends."
"We are not friends," you reply coldly, snatching your notebook out of his hands and shoving it into your backpack before he can stop you.
"See you in class tomorrow!" he calls out warmly as you storm out of the room, clearly not affected by anything you said.
You want to tell him to go fuck himself, but you hold your tongue, instead letting the door slam behind you as you exit the office without another word.
The next day you show up to class right on time, and not a moment sooner. You figured if you got there right as the lecture begins, Wonwoo wouldn't be able to talk to you — and thankfully, you were right. He's sitting two chairs down, and you feel his eyes on you the whole hour, but you do not turn to look at him even once. When the lesson finally concludes, you book it out of there, but apparently that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.
"Y/n!" he calls out as he hurries after you. You keep walking, pretending not to hear him, but he catches up to you quickly.
"Hey, I was wondering if you—"
"The answer is no," you cut him off.
"You don't even know what I was going to ask," he smiles at you.
"Whatever it is, I'm not interested."
"Alright, guess I'll find someone else who's interested in first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie on Saturday."
You stop in your tracks, your head snapping over to him.
"You do not have first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie," you call him out. "That show has been sold out for weeks."
"I have connections."
"Right. Do you even like Death Cab?" you ask doubtfully.
"I don't know, I've never heard any of their songs," he answers matter-of-factly. "But I know they're your favorite band."
"And why do you know that??"
He shrugs. "I pay attention."
"So let me get this straight. You bought concert tickets to my favorite band in hopes that I'd go on a date with you?"
"It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want," he replies. "We can go as friends."
"I already told you," you glare at him, lowering your voice so none of the students passing by can hear you bickering. "We are not friends."
"But we can be," he smiles softly. "Just give me one chance. We have more in common than you think, y/n."
You roll your eyes. "I'm not having this conversation with you," you tell him, walking away.
"Think about it," he calls out as you head off down the hall.
"I won't" you grumble quietly under your breath.
Unfortunately you're not able to get Wonwoo and his concert tickets off your mind. You even end up ranting to your roommate about it, but to your dismay she thinks you should accept the offer.
"Are you crazy?!" Sana asks. "You're not seriously going to pass up free concert tickets to your favorite band just because you don't want to go on a date?"
"It's not even a date," you complain. "He just wants to go as friends."
"Okay, even better! What's the issue then?"
"The issue," you answer, "is that he's the most pretentious, insufferable douchebag to ever walk the face of the earth."
"He can't possibly be that bad."
You roll your eyes. "You'd be surprised."
"Come on, y/n," she insists. "You can literally take advantage of him! Just go to the concert and then never talk to him outside of class again. You know you'll regret it if you don't."
You grimace, because she's right. It's not even just concert tickets — it's front row concert tickets, for free. You'd be a fool not to accept the offer. But you can't help that spending an entire evening with Wonwoo genuinely sounds like your own personal hell.
"I'll think about it," you reply to Sana with a deep sigh.
You do think about it — far too much, perhaps. By Thursday, despite hating yourself a bit for it, you come to the conclusion that when he asks again you will accept. So you wait for him to inevitably send you an email, or show up unannounced at your office hours, but you don't see or hear from him once. Strange, considering how much he usually goes out of his way to bother you, but honestly you're enjoying the peace while it lasts. You've all but given up on the concert when finally, late in the Friday afternoon, you get an email from Wonwoo.
Dear y/n,
I assume you've changed your mind about the concert by now, so I will plan to pick you up at 5pm tomorrow — that way we can go to dinner before the show. Please let me know your favorite restaurant so I can make a reservation accordingly.
Best,
WJ
With a sigh, you type up your reply.
Hello Wonwoo,
I like Thai food — you take your pick of restaurant. See you tomorrow.
—y/n
It pains you to hit send, but you do anyway. You're getting a free dinner and concert out of this, you remind yourself. You can suck it up and deal with Wonwoo for one night.
And you know it's true. You've dealt with bigger bullshit before than spending a few hours with one annoying man — besides, like Sana said, how bad could it possibly be? Still, you can't shake the anxious feeling that he has some ulterior motive here. Maybe he's just doing this to fuck with you, maybe he's going to do everything he can to make your night as miserable as possible. But maybe he's not. You can't fathom that he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart — if anything, he's probably just trying to get into your pants. But, you suppose there's only one way to find out.
True to his word, Wonwoo showed up to your apartment at 5pm on the dot to pick you up. You were lowkey regretting agreeing to go to dinner with him — at least at the concert you won't have to engage in actual conversation, but an hour or so spent one-on-one with him, making small talk? What were you thinking?? But it was too late to back out, so here you are, sitting across the dinner table from your mortal enemy at a Thai place on the other side of town that you've never even heard of before.
"How did you even find this place?" you ask him as you peruse the menu. "This is so far from campus."
"I'm attempting to try every restaurant in town," he answers casually, not looking up from his menu. "It's something of a hobby of mine."
"Oh, really?" you reply. Wonwoo glances up at you, a peek of a grin poking at his lips.
"You sound surprised."
"I guess I just didn't know that about you," you shrug.
"What did you think I do for fun, then?"
"I… Well, I don't know," you answer truthfully. "I guess I never thought about that before."
"So you assumed I sit in my house all day reading books," he jests.
"I didn't say that!" you protest.
"I know, y/n, I'm just teasing you," he smiles. He nudges his head toward your menu. "What are you thinking of getting?"
"I'm debating between the pad see eiw and the green curry," you answer, still staring at the page.
"The curry is really good," he tells you. "It's got the perfect amount of spice, if you like spicy."
"I do," you nod, setting your menu down too. "What are you getting?"
"I'm going with the khao moo deng."
"Oh my god, like the hippo!"
"What?" he asks, raising his brow at you.
"You know, Moo Deng! The baby hippo who went viral," you explain. "She's from Thailand — they named her after the dish."
"Oh, I don't use social media," he replies plainly.
"Now that doesn't surprise me."
Wonwoo grins. "What are you implying? That I'm uncool and out of touch?"
"I mean yeah, pretty much," you admit.
"I can live with that," he chuckles.
You order, slightly worried about the quality of the food considering that there is only one other occupied table in the whole restaurant; but as soon as the server sets the aromatic dish in front of you, your mouth starts watering. The curry is incredible — some of the best you've ever had, even. You hate to admit it, but Wonwoo did manage to pick a great restaurant. By the time you finish eating, you realize you've been yapping nonstop the whole time. A bit annoying, considering that you more or less hate his guts, but you're just glad the evening hasn't turned out to be a complete disaster yet.
Despite your protests, Wonwoo pays for your dinner, and it is time to head to the concert. Stupidly, you have butterflies in your stomach the whole way there, but you chalk it up to your sheer excitement over finally seeing your favorite band for the very first time. Making your way into the theater, you walk with Wonwoo all the way to the front of the auditorium, suddenly becoming very self-conscious about possibly being perceived with him of all people. But, you don't want to think about that right now, so you just hope and pray no one you know is here.
"Holy shit," you remark as you take your seats. "I've never been this close at a concert before."
"Me neither," Wonwoo replies. "Though, I suppose I've never been to any concert before."
"Wait," you say, turning to look at him. "Are you serious?"
He turns to face you, making you realize that the two of you are currently very uncomfortably close to each other.
"Yes," he answers. "Though, I suppose I did see the New York Philharmonic while I was visiting NYC a few years ago."
"I mean, sure, but that's not a concert concert."
He grins at you. "What would you consider a concert concert, then?"
"You know, like a band that's on tour. That you would buy albums of."
"Well, I suppose most of the artists I listen to aren't touring so much these days."
"Yeah I think Beethoven's a little dead at this point."
Wonwoo laughs. "I meant more so that I listen to a lot of classic rock from the 60s and 70s," he explains. "So you're not entirely wrong about them being dead."
"I didn't know you were into the classics," you respond, surprised to find out that you have that in common. "I grew up listening to that era of music too."
"You never asked," he shrugs.
The lights in the theater dim, and the crowd begins to cheer as the shadowy figures of the band take to the stage in the dark. As the first song begins, you suddenly feel overwhelmed — you're not much of a concert person usually, but hearing the music you've been listening to since you were young live and in person is making you feel inexplicably emotional. You quickly blink the tears from your eyes, and the sensation soon dissipates, returning you to the music and the atmosphere of fans singing along to all the lyrics. The show is so incredible that for the remainder of the night you barely even recall who it is you came here with in the first place. You're having too much fun to notice, but Wonwoo's eyes keep flickering over to you, a soft look of affection etched onto his face.
The concert-goers flood out of the theater in droves, chattering and laughing as everyone is still riding the rush of adrenaline from the show. You and Wonwoo make your way across the parking lot, the chill of the night air refreshing as it tingles against your cheeks.
"So, how was it?" Wonwoo asks as you walk in the general direction of his car. Free of the joyful environment of the concert, you remember now how much he has always annoyed you. But, much to your surprise, the annoyance you typically feel around him is not present, nor is the smug attitude that usually colors his voice.
"That was amazing," you admit, smiling blissfully. "I still can't believe I actually got to experience my favorite band live."
"Good," he smiles at you. You approach his car, Wonwoo brushing past you to open the passenger side door for you. You give him a confused look, but you just thank him and let yourself into the car. Once you're in he shuts the door, and you watch him as he walks around to the driver's side. You don't particularly want to inflate his ego any further, but you know you have to genuinely thank him for the whole experience.
He gets in the car, turning the keys in the ignition, the engine coming to life.
"Thank you for the ticket, Wonwoo," your voice comes out softly as he reaches for the gear shift. His hand pauses atop it, looking over to meet your gaze. You were standing next to him all night, but the distance between the two of you suddenly feels extremely close; yet, it's not uncomfortable.
"You're welcome, y/n," he smiles at you.
"I have to ask, though," you continue. "Why did you do it?"
He cocks his head at you slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" you start hesitantly. You don't want to be too blunt, but you also don't feel the need to beat around the bush.
"I mean, why buy me concert tickets when I've made it very clear I don't even like you?"
Wonwoo grins slightly. "Why do you think?"
"Honestly?" you reply. "Probably to get in my pants, I don't fucking know."
"Well, that's certainly not something I'd be opposed to," he chuckles. "But that's not why."
"Okay," you concede. "Why, then?"
He gazes back at you with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter anxiously.
"Because I knew it would make you happy," he answers. "And I want you to be happy whether you like me or not."
You feel your stomach drop, your face suddenly burning hot. That was not the answer you were expecting, and you quite frankly don't know how to respond.
"I—" you stammer quietly. "I… Sorry, I don't know what to say to that," you admit, trying to hide your embarrassed face behind your hand.
"You don't have to say anything," he tells you gently, shifting the car into reverse and pulling out of the spot. You sit there silently as he waits in the slow-moving line to exit the parking lot, wishing you could disappear. You're considering hopping out of the car and finding another ride home, but the line finally starts moving. As Wonwoo heads toward the exit, he turns to look at you.
"Can we take a brief detour on the way home?" he asks casually. "I want to show you something."
"Sure," you answer after a few seconds of silence. Wonwoo nods, switching the turn signal from right to left, pulling out into the street and driving off in the opposite direction of home. He drives for a few minutes in seemingly the wrong direction away from anything, and you're starting to wonder if you should be worried.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see in just a minute," he replies nonchalantly.
"Is this when I find out you're actually a serial killer?" you joke. Wonwoo laughs.
"No, definitely not a serial killer, I promise."
"Ooookay," you say, still unsure.
True to his word, in about another minute or so he turns onto a dirt road you didn't even see from the main road. He drives slowly as the road turns into an incline, clearly going up a steep hill.
"Sorry," he says, having noticed that you look a bit nervous. "This part of the road is a bit nerveracking, but we're almost there," he assures you.
The surrounding trees soon begin to become more sparse, eventually opening up to what looks to you like a small clearing at the top of the hill. A big metal guard rail wraps around the area; as Wonwoo pulls up to it to park the car, you gasp. Beyond the guard rail is an incredible view of the whole town, the orange glow of the streetlights and houselights making it look so warm and picturesque that it seems like a scene straight out of a movie.
"Holy shit," you say softly, awestruck by the unreal sight. Wonwoo grins, then hops out of the car. You follow suit and join him by the railing, taking in the stunning view.
"I had no idea there was anything like this around here," you say softly.
"Isn't it beautiful?" he asks. Your eyes flicker over to him, finding his gaze fixated on you.
"How did you find this?" you ask, the same rush of heat as earlier returning to your cheeks.
"My roommate last year told me about it — he grew up around here, apparently it was a popular place for high schoolers to take their dates."
"So you've brought me to a make-out point," you reply, raising your brow at him.
"I suppose so," he chuckles. "But genuinely, I just wanted to show you the view."
"So you don't want to make out with me then."
Wonwoo smiles, his eyes still locked onto yours. You feel a wave of heat overtaking you again, this time burning achingly in your core. If this had happened yesterday, you would be peeved; but the usual feeling of displeasure you feel in his presence is nowhere to be found.
"I don't want to do anything you don't want to do," he answers plainly.
"And what if I do want it?"
The words feel foreign on your tongue, your voice so soft you almost didn't recognize it as yours. But you said it, and for reasons you cannot explain, you meant it.
Wonwoo takes a small step toward you. "Want what?" he asks, the cheekiness in his words not going unnoticed.
"Want you to kiss me," you say, taking a small step toward him. Your mouths are mere inches apart, and Wonwoo's eyes definitely keep flickering down to your lips.
"You do?" he asks, a grin overtaking his face.
"Yeah," you answer, the words coming out in barely more than a whisper. "I do."
Wonwoo smiles, then the next thing you know his lips are crashing into yours. The kiss starts out soft, sweet — his mouth presses against yours delicately, savoring your taste for the first time, his fingers brushing lithely over your jaw, sending a rush of electricity coursing through your body as you accept the kiss. His hands slowly drift to your sides, slipping into your open coat and resting upon your hips. Before you can even think twice you're leaning into him, the warmth of his torso instantly blocking the chill of the late autumnal air. He kisses you slowly at first, but that doesn't last long — not with you being tangled up in each other's grasp. His lips start tugging at yours with sudden urgency, and you eagerly reciprocate. The ridiculousness of you making out with the coworker you up until tonight absolutely could not stand is not lost on you, but right now you could not care less.
His lips depart yours far too soon, his hands maintaining their grip on your waist as you stare up into his eyes. You've never seen Wonwoo from this close up — why would you have? But you don't recall his eyes ever being so soft and warm as they are gazing back at you through his lenses right now. A chill overtakes you, and you shiver slightly as the wind cuts through your layers.
"C'mere," he tells you, taking hold of your hand and starting to pull you back toward his car. "It'll be warmer in here."
He opens the door to the backseat, gesturing for you to enter first; you slide across the soft leather to the other side, allowing him room to climb in after you, but as soon as he's inside with the door closed he grabs you again, taking hold of your arms and dragging you into his embrace. Without the wind now, inside the car quickly becomes a bit too toasty. Wonwoo hastily removes your coat, tossing it into the front seat and following suit with his own jacket. He pulls you over onto him, your thigh swinging over his legs as you sit straddled across his lap, your arms draped over the top of the backseat as you lean in to kiss him again. This time his tongue swipes at your lips; you part them, allowing him entrance, your tongues now dancing against each other with fervent need. His hands slip beneath the hem of your sweater, running up your stomach and resting atop the cups of your bra. You break the kiss momentarily, the corners of your lips twisting into a sly smile.
"Go on," you say to him, nudging your head toward your sweater. "Take it off."
He grins back at you, the red glow of his cheeks apparent even in the dim lighting. Grabbing the hem he lifts the garment over your head and practically flings it onto the seat next to him. Shirtless now, he stares at your cleavage before him, his hands grasping at the soft flesh through your bra.
"I've thought about this exact scenario a thousand times," he mutters, licking his lips. "But god, it's even better than I imagined."
He peers up at you again, staring at you hungrily for the briefest of seconds before he suddenly reaches for his glasses, ripping them off his face and tossing them onto the seat with your sweater before diving back into your lips. He kisses you as his hands wander to your lower back, and your grind your hips against him — an involuntary action, but it causes your clit to press into the stiff bulge forming in his trousers. You let out a soft sigh at the sensation, exhaling against his lips as he holds you tight in his arms. Eventually his fingers return to your boobs, grazing gently over your cleavage, sending a delicious chill up your spine.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to—" he starts breathily, but you shake your head immediately.
"I want to," you tell him softly, and a mischievous grin flickers at his lips. "What?" you laugh.
"Nothing, just remembering how much you hated my guts a few days ago and here we are now," he replies cheekily, squeezing lightly at your boobs.
"I didn't 'hate your guts'," you refute as you roll your eyes. "I just found you annoying and insufferable."
"Oh, is that all?" he smirks.
"Shut up," you mumble, leaning your forehead against his as you hover your lips right above his mouth. "Do you wanna kiss me or not?"
"I do, very much so," he smiles, lightly dragging his bottom lip across yours. His hands slide to your hips, pressing your core into his erection again as he grinds you against his lap.
"Fuck," you gasp, followed by an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry, I just… it's been a little while," you admit.
"Don't apologize," he says, kissing down your down your chin, nudging his face into your neck as he places a delicate string of kisses onto the tender skin. The sensation makes you melt, sinking your clothed cunt further into his bulge. "We can take this as slow as you want."
"Who said I want to go slow?"
He lifts his head, meeting your eyes again, finding them eager and needy.
"God, you're gonna drive me crazy if you keep saying stuff like that," he says with a lazy smirk.
"Good," you reply with a grin, muttering into his lips. "Then we'll be even."
"Is that so?" he mumbles back. "Guess I'll just have to try harder to get on your nerves now."
"Oh god, please don't."
Wonwoo lets out a laugh — the sound warm and hearty.
"So, do we have a truce then?" he inquires.
"I suppose so," you answer. "Who knew all it would take for you to leave me alone is for me to fuck you?"
He grins. "A bit toxic of us, don't you think?"
"Probably," you reply with a shrug, dragging your hand down his torso, reaching for his belt and tugging at the buckle, making his eyes widen excitedly.
As if that didn’t make this even the better??? God I love e2l but especially when it’s one-sided! Because this man was down for reader the entire time and she was not picking it up 😂 I love that you used Death Cab for this - I think Wonwoo would like some of their stuff 😁 Thank you so much for this Ren! 💕
👻 pairing: lee chan x f!reader
👻 theme: fake dating, humor, smut [18+ mdni]
👻 wc: 8.1k
👻 warnings: extremely made up ghost rituals, mild sexism/homophobia because the ghost is a dick, vague references to suicide, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, unprotected piv sex (big no-no), creampie, jun cameo and he’s real weird (/pos)
👻 a/n: this is a silly one folks! but i had so much fun writing this, and finally my first (posted) lee chan fic!! and please excuse all the ridiculous made-up ghost stuff i truly just pulled it out of my ass lmao but we ball. shoutout to @haologram for beta reading ily 🫶
SYNOPSIS: When you agreed to go ghost hunting with friends in a haunted asylum, you didn’t even believe in ghosts. But now that you are being haunted by the spirit of a grade-A douchebag it’s up to you and your pretend-boyfriend to get rid of him – before he figures out your ruse.
"You ready yet, Chan?"
"I was born ready."
You roll your eyes exaggeratedly as you shove a small black device into his chest.
"Here, dipshit, Wonwoo told me to hand this to you."
"She's always so mean to me…" Chan pouts as he takes the device from you, attaching it to his utility belt.
"Are you talking to yourself now?" you raise a brow at him. He points to the GoPro strapped to his chest.
"Cameras are rolling, I told you already," he tells you, annoyed. He told Wonwoo bringing you along was a stupid idea. They didn't really need the extra camera, they could've captured plenty of evidence without getting someone to fill in for Jun.
"It's The Pledisville Sanatorium, Chan," he had insisted. "This is the most haunted location in all of Nebraska. We can't squander this opportunity."
"Why don't we just go some other time?" Chan complained, throwing his hands in the air exasperatedly. "We can wait until Jun's elbow isn't broken anymore and then we don't have to bring a fucking amateur along."
"That's gonna take at least two months, maybe three," Wonwoo reminded him. "And ever since Jeonghan and his idiot crew posted that viral TikTok about it, now every ghost hunter in America is going to want to come here. Do you want to get famous or not?"
"I'm not in this for fame," Chan said, folding his arms. "I'm in this for scientific discovery."
"Right, whatever," Wonwoo replied, waving his hand dismissively. "Well somebody else is going to scientific discover the ghosts at Pledisville if we don't get out there soon. We have to get there first."
"Can't we just do it ourselves?"
"You know that'd be way too much work trying to split all the equipment between just two people," Wonwoo said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "We might miss something. And I don't do sloppy work."
"Don't you have literally any other friends besides y/n that could fill in?" Chan pleaded. "What about Seungkwan?"
"Seungkwan's a scaredy cat. He wouldn't even set one foot on the property."
"How about Soonyoung, then? That man doesn't know any fear."
"No. Soonyoung's an idiot."
"Jihoon?" Chan tried, just throwing names out at this point.
Wonwoo shook his head. "I asked him already. His response was: 'No. This is stupid.'"
"What about… I don't know, Soonyoung's girlfriend?"
"She dumped him last week. On the account of him being an idiot."
"Right," Chan grumbled.
"Come on, y/n isn't so bad. Just because she rejected you one time four years ago doesn't mean you can't work with her for one night."
"It was twice…" Chan mumbled under his breath. Wonwoo heard, but chose to ignore him. Chan's beef with you was a personal problem, and he needed to get over it.
So now here you are, assisting Wonwoo and Chan on their "ghost hunt" at an old abandoned asylum. Not exactly your idea of a thrilling Friday night, but you owed Wonwoo one.
"Sorry, sorry, I forgot we were rolling," you reply in a sarcastic tone. "Though I'm not sure why you need to film if we're not even in the building yet."
"Because the entire grounds are potentially haunted," Chan answers, refraining from adding a rude duh to the end of his sentence. "Spirits can be tied to the land itself rather than a specific building. You act like you don't even know anything about ghosts."
"I don't," you tell him plainly. "Considering that ghosts aren't real."
Chan gives you the most offended look you've ever seen on a human face.
"WHAT?!" he hollers as Wonwoo joins you two, hauling the last of the equipment from the car. Chan turns to him, looking like he's going to bite Wonwoo's head off.
"I think y/n neglected to tell you that she doesn't even believe in ghosts, Wonwoo," he informs him. Wonwoo doesn't react.
"No, she didn't," he replies nonchalantly, adding fresh batteries to his flashlight. "I knew that already."
Chan stares back at him, incredulous.
"Then WHY is she even HERE???"
"Because we needed an extra pair of hands, and because she owed me a favor."
"This is unbelievable," Chan laments, but Wonwoo just picks up his gear and starts walking toward the building's entrance.
"Come on, there's no time to waste."
Chan stares at the back of his partner's head as he walks away in sheer disbelief. He turns to you, shooting you an irritated glare. You shrug apologetically, grabbing your bag and following after Wonwoo. Groaning, he grabs his equipment, shuffling slowly behind. He was here to do a job, and he wasn't about to let you of all people ruin his night — never mind his entire career.
"Alright, that's the last night vision cam."
Chan picks his pack up off the floor, wiping debris off of it before slinging it back over his shoulder. Wonwoo had instructed you to go with Chan to set up the team's numerous tripods around the building, placing them in various rooms and hallways he described as "paranormal hotspots". Normally that was his own job along with Chan, while Jun would start scouring the premise with the EMF meter — but obviously, you don't know how any of these tools work, so your role was to follow Chan around with the main video camera while he did his investigating. Besides, that would annoy Chan, and Wonwoo found that amusing.
"We're all set up up here," Chan radios to his friend.
"Roger," Wonwoo's staticky voice rings through the walkie. "You guys take some EMF readings up there, I'm gonna hop into a ghost box session. Don't radio me unless it's an emergency."
"Wow, he takes this very seriously," you remark as Chan clips the walkie to his utility belt. You're not sure how the belt manages to stay up despite being weighed down with so many nonsense ghost devices, but you keep that thought to yourself.
"So do I," he shoots you a bored glare.
"That's not what I meant. I just mean Wonwoo is very intense."
"Yeah, he definitely can be," Chan agrees. "That's why he's the brains of this operation."
"And what does that make you, the brawn?" you tease.
"'I'm the personality," he huffs. "But for the record I do work out every day, thank you very much."
"Whatever you say, big boy."
"I have to cut so much of this stupid audio already…" he grumbles as he brushes past you, heading off down the dingy hallway. You follow, aiming your flashlight into the darkness, but even though it's fairly bright you still can't see very far ahead. You may not believe in ghosts, but this gross building itself is certainly giving you the creeps.
"What are we doing now, EMFs?" you ask as you catch up to Chan. "What's that?"
He grabs one of the many devices from his belt, showing it to you.
"It detects fluctuations in electromagnetic fields," he explains. "The higher the meter goes, the closer the ghost is. We'll start in the psychiatric ward, where there's apparently a high concentration of spirits."
"Why is that?" you inquire as you follow him down the corridor.
"Well, usually the spirits that stick around are attached to the places they haunt for some reason. The more emotionally charged they are, the more likely we are to pick them up on our equipment."
"Emotionally charged… Do you think these guys are mad because they don't want to take their pills?"
He shrugs. "I dunno, maybe. If we pick up any spirits on the EMF readings we can try to ask them." He stops in front of the next doorway. "This is it."
The door to the psych ward is completely off its hinges, propped up against the wall haphazardly, its frosted glass window shattered. A dead rat lays in the center of the doorway.
"Eww," you whine, stepping over it cautiously. "This place is disgusting. Why can't ghosts ever haunt somewhere nice?"
"Believe it or not, this isn't the worst location I've been to," Chan replies. He shines his light around the room, illuminating an array of dilapidated chairs, medicine charts with yellowed papers chewed at the edges by vermin, dozens of pill bottles strewn across the tables and floor, and one horrible looking rickety wheelchair parked dead in the center of the room.
"I don't care if ghosts are real or not, that wheelchair is definitely haunted," you grimace at it as you walk past. Chan makes his way deeper into the ward, poking around in the nurse's office. Something metallic in the corner of the main room catches your eye; walking over to it, you see a cheap silver wristwatch, the kind that was considered fashionable in the Y2K era, lying tarnished under a thick layer of dust. You know better than to touch it, lest you have to get a tetanus shot after this, but something about it intrigues you. You zoom your camera in on it as you nudge the watch with the end of your flashlight — it scrapes against the table's laminate surface, giving a small unpleasant screech.
"I thought I told you not to touch my fucking shit, bitch."
You nearly jump out of your skin at the booming voice from behind. You whip your head around to see a gangly man, no less than six feet tall, looming behind you. He is clean-shaven except for a goatee, with a backwards cap and baggy, grungy clothes, a scowl etched into his face as he glares at you. He looks like the stereotypical asshole from the early 2000s, and you're about to whack him with your flashlight and make a run for it when you notice something odd about him. Your eyes widen as you realize what it is: he's translucent.
It must be a trick of the light, you think to yourself. But the only light currently in the room is coming from your flashlight, and as you shine it on the scary-looking man its beam penetrates through his shimmering body.
Frozen, you stand there staring at him, not knowing what to do — but then you remember why you're here in the first place. Without looking, you raise the camera in your off-hand, aiming it at the man as you prod at his arm with the flashlight. To your bewilderment, it goes right through him.
"Hey man, that's pretty freakin' rude, you know," he says to you.
"Are you… a ghost?"
The words sound dumb as hell departing your lips. The guy stares at you blankly for a moment, before looking down at his own hands.
"Oh, yeah. I am," he says slowly as it registers. "Sometimes I forget."
"Sorry I called you a bitch," he says as he looks back up at you. "I thought you were Nurse Carter. She's always trying to jack my stuff." He scans you up and down with his eyes, a shifty smirk appearing on his face as he rubs his hands together. "You're way hotter than she is, though."
"Eugh," you grumble as your face contorts into a frown. "How are you dead and still a creep? Pick a fucking struggle."
"You're the one who summoned me, sweet cheeks," he grins, stepping closer to you. "Clearly you want some of this."
You take a slow step back. Surely a ghost wouldn't be able to actually hurt you… right? Even if he is a grade A douchebag?
"Not interested, I promise you," you insist, but he just laughs. "Come on, a pretty chick like you shouldn't be walking around single."
"I have a boyfriend," you lie, narrowing your eyes at him. He definitely seems like the misogynistic type that will only leave you alone if he finds out you "belong" to another man, so it's worth a shot.
"Yeah right, what kind of guy would let his girl go ghost hunting in a shithole like this by herself?"
"I'm not by myself, he's in the other room."
As soon as the words roll off your tongue, you immediately regret it. Implying Chan is your boyfriend? What good is that lie going to do?
Speak of the devil, Chan's flashlight beam reappears in the main room as he returns.
"Y/n, who are you talking to-WHAAAT THE FUCK??"
Chan's face goes pale as the ghost turns around, shimmering iridescently in the flashlight beam.
"I've been ghost hunting for three years, and you catch a full-bodied apparition on your first night?!" he balks at you. "I can't believe this…"
"This is your boyfriend?" the ghost asks you, his tone sarcastic. "What a catch."
"Boyfriend?" Chan pipes up, looking at you in genuine confusion. The ghost still has his back to you, so you stare at Chan furiously, telepathically telling him to just go with it. He seems to get the message.
"Of course, I'm her boyfriend," he tells the ghost with poorly-faked confidence. You roll your eyes, but the ghost doesn't seem to register that he's lying.
"Well, don't go leaving her unattended," the ghost scolds Chan smugly. "A scumbag like me might just come along and steal her away."
"At least he's self-aware," Chan mumbles under his breath.
"What the fuck did you say?" the ghost barks, seemingly growing even taller as he approaches Chan.
"Nothing, nothing," Chan backpedals. He grabs a small audio recording device from his belt, clicking it on. "What's your name?"
The ghost huffs. "What is this, a fucking interview? It's Tyler, what about it?"
"Just wondering, if you… Um. Did you die here?"
"What are you, a moron? Of course I fucking did," Tyler scoffs.
"Sorry, sorry," Chan flounders. "Do you remember when? How did you die? Why are you still here-"
"One question at a time, damn," Tyler the ghost interjects. "It was… 2002. I think. I jumped out the fourth story window. I don't know why I'm still fucking here."
"Oh, um, sorry," Chan apologizes sheepishly. "Did you like it here?"
"Yeah, it was fucking paradise," Tyler rolls his eyes. He turns to you. "Is he always this stupid?"
"Only on weekends," you say cheekily. Chan shoots you an annoyed look, but you ignore him.
"Tyler, can I ask you a few more questions-"
"No, I'm bored," the spirit interrupts him, still eyeing you. "You sure you wanna be with this fucking dork?"
"I'd rather be with a dork than a douchebag," you retort. Tyler glares at you.
"Fine. But I'll be around if you change your mind."
A nervous look washes over Chan. "What exactly do you mean by that?" he hesitantly asks the ghost. Tyler turns around, smirking at Chan as he flips him two middle fingers. Then, he disappears into a ball of light, flying into your chest and knocking you to the floor.
"Y/n!!" Chan screams, running to your side, but by the time he gets to you you are unconscious.
"What the fuck are we gonna do??"
"I can't believe I leave you alone with y/n for fifteen minutes and you go and get her killed by a ghost."
"It's not my fault!!"
The two panicked male voices drift into your ears as you slowly blink your eyes open to a gross moldy ceiling. You realize you're on your back, laying on the filthy floor, a backpack propped under your head for support.
"What happened?" you grumble groggily at the two figures you can see in your peripheral vision. Their blurry faces snap toward you.
"I TOLD YOU she wasn't fucking dead!!" you hear Chan yell as the figures rush over to you.
"I didn't say she was dead," Wonwoo insists, kneeling by your side. "But she definitely passed out on your watch."
Your friends come into focus, an equal mix of concern and relief on their faces.
"Are you okay?" Chan asks, brushing dirt off your jacket as he helps you sit upright. "I thought you were a goner after the spirit entered you."
"Chan insists you both encountered a full-bodied apparition," Wonwoo tells you, handing you a water bottle. You take it, the room temperature water feeling refreshing against your dry lips as you take a sip.
"Believe it or not, he's not wrong. Check the cameras, we both were filming-"
Wonwoo shakes his head. "None of the cameras recorded anything once you entered the psych ward, they all just have a black screen. They only picked up visuals again after you passed out. A classic case of ghost-equipment interference."
"Oh," you respond. "That's unfortunate."
"We're used to it, sadly," Chan says glumly.
"Well, do you think we can capture it again?" you ask, trying to stand up, but your knees give out. Wonwoo catches you before you can plop back to the floor.
"You're in no condition to ghost hunt, y/n," he tells you, helping you to your feet slowly. "You need to rest. We'll head back to the motel we passed on the way here."
"I don't want you guys to miss out on your investigation, though," you tell them. You don't particularly care to be here any longer, but you do feel a little responsible for ruining the trip.
"We can leave some of the cameras and sensors here overnight and come grab them in the morning," Chan tells you. "It's not ideal, obviously, but it's better than nothing."
"Come on," he says, offering you his arm. You grab onto it while Wonwoo picks up the rest of the bags, and he slowly leads you out the door. "Let's get out of here."
"Good news, we just got the last two open rooms," Wonwoo announces as he exits the motel office. He hands you and Chan a plastic key card each. "These are for Room 6, I'll be down in Room 10."
You and Chan glance at each other, and then at Wonwoo.
"Aren't you guys gonna room together?" you inquire, a confused expression on your face. You hear Chan let out a deep sigh.
"Come on, Wonwoo, I can deal with your snoring for one night, it's fine," he pleads, but Wonwoo shakes his head.
"Y/n hit her head, we're not leaving her alone overnight," he insists.
"Then you room with her!"
"And keep her up all night with my — what did you call it, 'dying car engine snores'?" Wonwoo raises his brow at Chan. "That would be rude."
"Fine, whatever," Chan says nonchalantly, trying to hide his annoyance. He's all too familiar with Wonwoo's stubbornness, so he knows there's no point in arguing. Besides, as much as he hates to admit it, Wonwoo is right — this sleeping arrangement does make the most sense. You fully passed out earlier, and though it's not his fault in the slightest he still feels pretty bad about it. Leaving you by yourself could be risky, and he doesn't want anything else to happen to you.
The motel room is nice enough — clean, but tiny. The two full size beds barely both fit, with only enough space for a single small nightstand in between them. Chan lets you shower first, and by the time he's finished showering he finds you tucked under the covers of your bed, fast asleep. You look very cute with half of your face smushed into the pillow as you lay cozily on your side, but he tries his hardest not to think about that. He climbs into his own bed, turning the bedside lamp off with a soft click, and within a few minutes he too is fast asleep.
You wake an hour or so later to a bothersome chewing sound. You raise your head up groggily, glaring over at Chan ready to chastise him for eating loudly at this hour — but he's asleep in his bed.
"Having boyfriend trouble, sweetheart?"
You jump at the sudden gruff voice coming from across the room. Panicked, you reach blindly in the dark for the lamp. As you yank the chain the room becomes illuminated in its soft yellow glow, revealing a man sitting in the room's lone chair across from your bed. It takes you a moment to realize that you recognize him.
"Tyler?" you ask incredulously, your voice hoarse with sleep.
"That's my name, don't wear it out."
He reaches into the bag of sunflower seeds in his hand, popping a few in his mouth, crunching them noisily before spitting the shells onto the floor.
"Ew," you grimace. "Can't you at least use the trash can?"
"It's ghost food," he replies, rolling his eyes. "It'll disappear when I do."
You hear Chan stir under the sheets. Glancing over at him, you see him pop one eye open.
"Why is the light on?" he mumbles sleepily, sitting up slightly. He stares at your unwanted ghost visitor for a good five seconds before he processes what he's seeing.
"What the hell?!" he shouts, bolting upright.
"Yup, me again," Tyler tells him smugly, raising his hands out. "I was just asking your cute little girlfriend here why you guys are sleeping in separate beds. Did she dump your goofy ass yet?"
"Who're you calling goofy??" Chan balks.
"You, bitch," Tyler informs him bluntly. "So what'd you do, break her heart? Leave her for another woman?" He pauses, before snidely adding, "Leave her for a man?"
"I—," Chan starts, still too bewildered by this entire situation to even know what to say. "Hey man, being homophobic is for losers."
"Oh so you are a homo then?"
"Does it fucking matter?" Chan retorts, annoyed. "Why are you even here? Go away."
"Oh I'm sorry, I thought you were a ghost hunter," Tyler mocks him. "I'm trying to help you here, dude."
"You're an asshole," Chan shoots back. "I'd rather never ghost hunt again than have to deal with you."
"You're just jealous that your girl wants me more than you."
"I most certainly do not," you glare at Tyler.
"Then why won't you let him sleep with you, huh?" Tyler taunts.
"For your information, Tyler," Chan sneers. "She passed out and hit her fucking head earlier, all thanks to you!"
"Looks like it knocked some sense into her if she's done with you," he smirks.
"She… We… Our relationship is fine," Chan stammers, hoping neither you nor Tyler notice how his ears are burning red right now. "Y/n just needs to get some rest, and she can't do that with you in here bothering her!"
"Fine," Tyler says, popping another handful of sunflower seeds in his mouth. "But you can't escape your relationship problems forever, man." He crunches with his mouth open, the grotesque sound causing you to make a face, but he doesn't seem to notice.
"I'll be waiting for you, baby," he tells you with a wink. He spits the seed shells onto the floor again, then throws up a peace sign in the most insufferable way imaginable.
"Holla if you need me."
In the blink of an eye, he vanishes again.
Chan stares into the now-empty space the bothersome ghost had previously occupied, trying to wrap his tired brain around everything.
"What the fuck is happening?" he grumbles, rubbing his eyes.
"I think I'm being haunted by a douchebag ghost," you say, not believing the words coming out of your own mouth.
"Sure seems that way," Chan agrees.
"This is nuts. A few hours ago I didn't even believe in ghosts." You flop back onto the bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin.
"Hey, try not to worry about it," Chan tells you calmly. "Try and go back to sleep, you really do need to get some rest."
"Yeah, you're right," you mumble sleepily, rolling over onto your side again. "G'nite."
"Goodnight," Chan says quietly. He flips the lamp off and shuts his eyes, but that jerk's words keep replaying in his mind. He's still not entirely sure why he's pretending to be your boyfriend for a specter, but it does at least seem to be a successful deterrent to the ghost so far. He shakes his head, burying his face in the pillows as he tries to go back to sleep. He can worry about this dumb ghost problem another time.
Chan swears he had an alarm set for 7am, but he doesn't wake up until 9:46 the next morning. By now, Wonwoo had already gone to retrieve the remainder of their ghost gear from the Sanatorium and was eating breakfast at the Denny's down the road from the motel, as a string of texts from his friend with an increasingly-annoyed tone informed him. He peers over to your side of the room, finding you still snoozing peacefully.
"Y/n," he whispers, careful not to startle you, but no response. He tries again a bit louder, but you still don't hear him. He hoists himself out of bed, standing in the small gap between each of your beds as he lightly taps you on the arm.
"Y/n, wake up," he tells you softly. You jolt awake at his touch, looking up frazzledly, but when you see his face you relax.
"Oh, it's you," you sigh with relief. "I was scared the ghost was back."
"Thankfully, no," he replies, sitting back down on his bed. "Anyway, Wonwoo already got the rest of the gear, so once you're ready we can head home."
"Thank god," you reply, swinging your feet to the floor and getting up. "I'm glad I never have to see that awful asylum ever again."
You whisk around the tiny room as you hurriedly pack your things, excited at the prospect of going home and laying in your own bed. Chan notices how your thin pajama pants cling to the curvature of your hips, how your breasts swing underneath your baggy t-shirt; he busies himself with re-folding the already-folded clothes in his bag to distract himself.
You are not doing this again, he tells himself sternly. It took you this long to get over her, don't start catching feelings for y/n all over again.
But deep down, he knows he already has.
Chan is five beers deep and getting his ass kicked in Call of Duty when his phone rings. Your name on his screen throws him for a loop, and his character is killed instantly in his moment of distraction. Shutting the game off, he picks up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hi, sweetie," your voice rings out nervously from the other end of the line. "I'm having a bit of a ghost problem again, can you come over?"
"Um," Chan says, trying to think clearly through his inebriated state. "Yeah? Yeah, for sure. I'm on my way."
"Perfect!" you reply, speaking in a faux cheerful tone. This is the last thing you wanted to do, but you've been trying for over an hour now to rid your home of Tyler to no avail. "See you soon!"
"See you soon," Chan echoes, the call ending with a beep as you hang up. He looks down, observing his unkempt sweatpants and stained white t-shirt. Frowning, he gets up and goes to throw on something at least a little bit more presentable. As he heads out the door, he stares at the keys in his hand, head spinning slightly as he realizes he is definitely too intoxicated to drive right now. With a sigh he opens Uber and types in your address.
Fifteen minutes later, he's standing outside your front door. He knows you literally invited him over, but for some reason he's still anxious. He takes a deep breath and goes to knock, but before his knuckles make contact the door swings open. He looks up, meeting your gaze as you give him a sheepish but grateful smile.
"Oh my god, thank you so much for coming," you mutter quietly. "This dickhead literally won't go away, I've tried everything."
"Of course," Chan replies with a nod, trying not to seem as drunk as he is.
He follows you inside, peering around at your intriguing decor. Your space is colorful and bright, with tasteful touches of whimsy — just like you, he thinks to himself. You suddenly grab his hand as you lead him into your living room. Chan stiffens slightly at the unexpected gesture, but then he sees the familiar specter laying lazily on your couch. Tyler stares at your tv while eating translucent ghost popcorn, seemingly mesmerized by The Force Awakens playing on the screen. A lingering skunky smell fills Chan's nose, and he notices a green glass pipe laying on your coffee table, shimmering just like the ghost himself. Chan clears his throat; Tyler glances up at him with bloodshot red eyes.
"Well well well," he says slowly, words slurring slightly. "Look what the cat dragged in. Have you seen this flick?" he asks, gesturing to the tv. "This shit is crazy, man. I wouldn't have offed myself if I knew how baller technology could get."
"Are you fucking high on ghost weed?" Chan questions, staring at the specter dully.
"Maybe. What about it?"
"You need to leave," Chan tells him sternly, but Tyler just laughs.
"Listen, man. You gotta stop leaving your girlfriend all alone. What am I supposed to do, not show up?"
"Yeah, actually," you reply, annoyed. "That would be ideal."
"Keep acting like you don't want me, babe. I know you're playing hard to get."
"If you had real nuts I would kick them as hard as I could," you shoot back.
"See? She's already trying to get in my pants," he says smugly to Chan. Chan grits his teeth.
"Get the fuck out, NOW!" he yells.
Tyler picks up the ghost pipe and pulls a ghost lighter from his pocket. He lights the bowl and takes a big rip, blowing the large cloud of smoke back at Chan.
"You're-," Tyler starts, but a hacking cough overtakes him. He clears his throat, continuing in a raspy voice. "You're such a fucking buzzkill, I'm out. Later, haters."
With that he disappears, the smoke and odor disappearing as well.
"This is so stupid," you mutter as you drop your head into Chan's shoulder, still holding his hand. Chan isn't sure what to do, but he pats your other arm with his free hand.
"I'm really sorry, y/n. This never should have happened."
"It's not your fault," you sigh, hugging your arms around his waist and leaning into him. Chan freezes, panicking internally, but when you start sobbing quietly into his shoulder he wraps his arms around you.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay," he consoles you. "We'll find a way to get rid of him, I promise."
"How do you even get rid of a ghost?" you ponder through a sniffle. You know you should probably let go of him, but the warmth of Chan's body heat is comforting.
"I'm… not entirely sure," he admits. "I've been trying to just find a ghost in the first place for so long that I never got that far."
"Can you stay?"
Chan's stomach drops, his heart rate accelerating in his chest. He hopes you don't notice, but you do.
"I don't want him to come back."
"Of course," Chan answers quickly. "And if he does I'll kick his ass."
You pull your head up, looking at him with a smile on your face.
"You fighting a ghost? Now that I'd like to see."
Chan grins. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that." He plops down on the couch, kicking his feet up as he lays down. "Well, I hope you can get some sleep now."
"You know, you don't have to sleep on the couch," you tell him casually. "I have a king size bed, there's plenty of room. If you want."
"Oh," Chan replies, trying to play it cool. "Um, yeah, I mean, if you're okay with that."
"Definitely," you nod. The look you give him is almost… flirtatious. Chan smiles back at you nervously.
He follows you at a safe distance as you head to your bedroom.
"I'm gonna take a quick shower," you tell him. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Cool. Sounds good." He gives you a thumbs up, which he instantly regrets. She already thinks you're a dork, you idiot, he says to himself. You disappear into the bathroom, pushing the door closed; it slowly shuts, giving him a brief flash of your nude back as you pull your shirt over your head.
Between that, the multiple beers, and the ghostly contact high, Chan's head is spinning. He pulls back your covers, awkwardly getting into your bed with his jeans on — immediately regretting changing out of his sweats.
"Whatever," he mumbles to himself.
He stares at your ceiling, listening to the sound of running water, trying not to think about you naked in the shower right now — a task that proves itself annoyingly difficult. He flips over to his stomach, burying his face into the pillow, but it smells too much like you. Giving up, he rolls back over and grabs his phone, opening Twitter and aimlessly scrolling for the remainder of your shower. The water shuts off and you emerge from the bathroom about 10 minutes later, wearing a tank top and a pair of boxer-style pajama shorts, hair damp and skin glowing, looking far too beautiful for Chan to handle right now.
"You don't have to sleep in your jeans, you know," you tell him as you pull the covers back, climbing into the other side of the bed. "That can't be comfortable."
"Um, it's fine," Chan lies.
"Alright, suit yourself." You reach for the lamp and switch it off, bathing the room in darkness.
"Goodnight," you say, flopping over to your side, facing away from Chan — to his relief. Within a few minutes he hears you breathing deeply, fast asleep already. He tries not to toss and turn, so as not to wake you, but he can't get comfortable. Eventually, he gives up, carefully slipping out of bed and removing his jeans, folding them neatly and setting them on the floor. He slips back under the covers — much comfier now. Soon, he too is asleep.
Chan wakes the next morning to you clinging to him like a koala.
He lays there, unsure what to do. He doesn't want to wake you, but he already has slight morning wood, and the soft warm skin of your legs entangled in his is threatening to give him a full-on raging boner. A sudden tingling sensation in his arm alerts him to the fact that he's holding you right now, your torso squishing the limb and making it go numb. He carefully tries to retrieve his arm without waking you, but your eyes flutter open.
"Oh," you mutter sleepily, slowly untangling yourself from him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that."
"It's okay."
You let out a big yawn, rolling back over to your side of the bed. "Thanks for staying again, I guess it worked to keep that d-bag ghost away."
"I guess so," Chan replies. "That guy is the fucking worst." You grin, amused; just thinking about stupid Tyler is enough to make his dick soft again, thankfully.
"Do you have any ideas on where to start? To get rid of him for good, I mean," you ask. "Tyler's a moron, but I don't think we can keep up this ruse forever."
"Yeah, probably not," Chan agrees, but his heart sinks a little. He hates the ghost as much as you do and wants him gone, but he's gonna miss having a reason to be around you. He tries his best to shake it off.
"Not that I don't enjoy spending time with you," you add. "But this shouldn't have to be your problem."
"I don't mind, really!" he tells you, perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm. "But I definitely want him gone too. And I think I know just the guy to help us out here…"
"Okay, here's what you gotta do."
You and Chan are sitting in Jun's dim and bizarrely-decorated office, surrounded by strange equipment that you can only assume has to do with ghost hunting, as well as various alien- and cryptid-related paraphernalia. It's the middle of the day, but you wouldn't know it with the blackout curtain over the room's only window. "Reduces the risk of alien abduction by 75%", he had explained matter-of-factly when asked.
"Since the spirit has attached itself to you, y/n, you have to get it to latch on to someone, or something, else."
You and Chan had explained the whole situation to Jun — leaving out the part where you two have been pretending to be dating, of course.
"Now, obviously this guy is a massive tool," Jun continues, adjusting his casted arm in his sling. ("Whatever you do, do NOT ask him how he broke his elbow", Chan had warned you beforehand.) "So we don't want to burden somebody else with his presence — unless you have any enemies."
You wait for him to go on, but he looks at you expectantly.
"Oh, um, no. I don't have any enemies."
"Okay, good. Now, there's a good chance this Trevor guy was tied to a physical object at the asylum. Can you think of anything that might've been a trigger object?"
You were only at Pledisville two nights ago, but your memory of it is already quite fuzzy — you assume from the whole passing out ordeal. You try to mentally retrace your steps up to the point when Tyler appeared.
"The watch!" you exclaim suddenly. "He appeared after I nudged a watch that was laying on a table in the psych ward."
"That's it!" Jun says enthusiastically, snapping as he shoots you finger guns with his one hand that isn't in a cast. "That's your object. Now, all you have to do is go back to the asylum and follow a few simple steps, and then Terry should be gone for good."
"Ugh," you groan, sinking into the chair defeatedly. "I was so excited to never see that horrible place ever again." You sit back up, looking at Jun, but he is furiously scribbling instructions in his notebook. From the looks of it, his broken elbow is on the same arm as his dominant hand, but that doesn't seem to slow him down much. "Any chance we can banish him to another object?"
"You could," Jun replies without looking up. "But it might not keep him away forever. The best way to guarantee he won't come back is to return him to where he came from."
"Well," you say as you look over at Chan. "What are you doing tonight?"
"Kicking a ghost's ass after all, I guess."
That earns him a big grin from you. "We should get going, then," you say, rising from your seat. "If we start driving now we'll get there just after sunset, which I assume is prime ghost time."
"Actually, that would be 3am," Jun pipes up. "It's often erroneously called 'the witching hour', but ghosts and witches hardly exist on the same plane. Due to the tilt of the Earth and the relative alignment of the polar magnetic fields at that hour there is a higher likelihood of converging dimensions, allowing us humans a greater chance to catch a glimpse into the spirit world and potentially encounter an apparitio-" He pauses as he looks up, seeing by the expression on your face that he's lost you. "Never mind, that's not important here." He rips the sheet of paper from his notebook and holds it out. Chan takes it, folding it neatly and putting it in his pocket.
"Follow those steps exactly and you will be rid of- what was his name again, Taylor? But no substitutions."
You have no clue what that could possibly mean, but you don't question it.
"Thanks, Jun. I really appreciate your help," you smile gratefully at Chan's odd but kind friend.
"How did he break his elbow?" you whisper to Chan as you walk out of Jun's house. You see the edges of his lips twitch upwards.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"I'm currently being haunted by a douchebag ghost named Tyler," you remind him. "Try me."
A wide grin spreads across his face.
"You can't make this shit up. He literally slipped on a banana peel."
The asylum is just as disgusting as you remembered it.
You and Chan make your way back up to the psych ward, hauling all the random shit Jun told you to bring with. Turns out he had indeed broken his elbow on his dominant hand, so his handwriting was almost indecipherable, but after the weirdest grocery store trip you've ever taken you're pretty sure you got everything.
You pull out the list again, reading off Jun's instructions.
"'Step 1: Find your trigger object and make a two-inch thick, three-foot diameter salt circle on the ground surrounding it. Use Morton salt, not store brand.'"
Chan grabs the tape measure and the two containers of name-brand salt you purchased and starts constructing the salt ring.
"How does that look?" he asks as he finishes, stepping back to try and get a look at his work. It's not perfect, but good enough.
"That'll do. Okay, 'Step 2: Take eight sprigs of fresh sage and make a six-inch diameter ring directly around the trigger object.'"
Chan pulls a bundle of cilantro out of the grocery bag. There was no fresh sage to be found at the grocery store, and they were conveniently out of dried sage in the herbs section too. "Hopefully this'll work."
Chan makes a cilantro circle on the table around the wrist watch, checking it with the tape measure.
"'Step 3: The haunted individual must stand directly outside the salt circle, facing due East.' Guess that's me." You pull out your phone to find which way is East, positioning yourself on the circle's perimeter.
"'Step 4: The assistant must stand three feet from the circle, directly facing the haunted individual.'"
"Guess that's me," echoes Chan as he measures the ground and takes his place.
"'Step 4: The haunted individual is to call out the name of the spirit (here, "Trevor"), followed by the proceeding words:'"
You clear your throat as you begin. "Tyler," you speak loudly, your voice echoing through the gross, creepy room. "I summon thy presence immediately. Please present thyself."
To your dismay, Tyler appears, standing in the circle facing you, his back to Chan.
"Yo. Why the fuck are you speaking all weird?" he asks you. He then peers around the room, realizing where he is.
"Hey, what the hell are we doing back here?"
"Step 5!" you call to Chan. He pulls the bottle of Holy Water he was hiding behind his back and splashes its contents at Tyler. It appears to do nothing — just going right through him and sprinkling onto the grimy floor.
"Ha!" Tyler laughs haughtily, turning around to face Chan. "You think you're gonna get rid of me that easily, bitch?"
"Step 6!!" Chan yells to you frantically as Tyler begins to drift toward him. You pull a pink BIC lighter from your pocket and hold it to the cilantro. At first it does nothing, the leaves still damp from being misted on the grocery store shelves. You start freaking out as Tyler tries to push Chan over, but Chan holds his ground, swinging at the specter despite not hitting anything. Suddenly, the cilantro ignites, the blazing leaves glowing in the dark dank room. Tyler turns around, looking shocked.
"What the-"
The watch starts to glow, seemingly sucking Tyler's spirit into it.
"Aw, fuck!" Tyler shouts as his figure is magically pulled toward the watch, shrinking until there's nothing left but a ball of light. The orb hovers above the watch for a good five seconds, and then zips into it. The ignited cilantro is suddenly extinguished, the watch ceasing to glow — returning the room to silent darkness.
You and Chan stare at the watch for a moment, then at each other. You both start to grin.
"Did we do it?" you ask hesitantly.
"I… think so," he replies, optimism slowly returning to his face.
"WE DID IT!!!" you finally shout victoriously, prompting him to cheer as well. You run toward him, throwing your arms around him and jumping. He jumps with you, taking you in his embrace, both of you whooping and laughing. As your laughter starts to die down, you lift your head, looking Chan in the eyes. Then, you kiss him.
Chan stands there in shock for a moment as your mouth presses into his, but as he processes what is happening his lips lift into a grin against yours. He kisses you back, holding you squished against him as close as you can physically get, never wanting the moment to end — and for a few minutes, it doesn't. You make out with him, grasping at him desperately as his hands grip your sides tight. Finally, your lips part, both of you breathing deeply as you press your foreheads together.
"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do that," Chan admits sheepishly. You beam back at him, leaning in to kiss him on the nose.
"We can definitely do it some more, as long as we get out of this disgusting place first," you tell him with a laugh.
"Absolutely," he agrees with a nod. "Fuck this place."
You and Chan walk hand in hand out of the decrepit building, flipping it off gleefully as you drive away.
"Only a two hour drive back," Chan says glumly as the GPS pulls up the directions to take him home.
"Well, I do know of a cheap motel nearby where we could spend the night instead…" you posit. Chan looks over at you, a giddy smile spreading across his face.
"That sounds perfect, actually."
Chan flops onto the bed beside you, both of you sweaty and breathing heavily.
"Holy shit," he groans blissfully. "That was fucking amazing."
You roll over, pulling his body back into you, tangling your legs around him like you did the night before — but this time intentionally. There's too much body heat between the both of you to be cuddling right now, but you don't care, and neither does he.
"You're so beautiful," Chan mutters as he kisses your forehead softly.
"Oh, hush," you tell him, but he just wraps his arms around you.
"I mean it. You're perfect."
"You can't just say things like that to me," you say, looking up at him with a smirk. "It makes me horny."
"Oh," he responds, grinning. "Well in that case you're hot and pretty and cute and sexy and-"
You cut him off with a kiss. His tongue dances against yours, tasting you as he squeezes your butt. Suddenly you roll over on top of him; he looks up at you, surprised but eager, as you reach down. You grab his cock, finding it still hard, giving him a few strokes before positioning your entrance against his tip. You let yourself sit on it, his length slipping into your already-drenched cunt.
"Oh my god," he grumbles. "I could really get used to this, you know."
"Good," you say, starting to ride him slowly, dragging your pussy up and down as your walls squeeze his cock. "I'd like that."
"Like, as friends with benefits?"
"Maybe," you answer, starting to bounce on him, causing him to let out a loud moan. "Orrrrr, I dunno," you continue breathily, pumping his cock in and out of you. "We could like, date for real or something."
Chan smiles, his eyes rolling back into his head as you ride him. "Yeah, that sounds good," he says between grunts. "Great, even."
"But," you say, riding him faster still. "I'm not going on any more ghost hunts with you." Your words are turning whiny, and Chan feels like he's gonna bust again already.
"That's literally so okay," he responds. "I think, fuck-" he moans as you take him deeper.
"Cum in me again," you beg.
"Oh my god," he groans. He reaches for your clit, pressing his thumb into it as you ride him. You soon cum again, and with a few more strokes he releases inside you, more cum dripping from your already-cum-filled pussy as you slide up and down his pulsating cock. You collapse onto him, his cock throbbing inside you as you both come down from your highs.
"I think," he finishes his sentence, "that I'm done with ghost hunting for a while anyway."
"I guess you kinda found what you were looking for, huh."
"Yeah," he says, squeezing you tight in his arms as he plants a warm kiss on your cheek. "I really did."
PAIRING: lee seokmin x f!reader
GENRE: smut [18+ MDNI]
WC: 5,906
WARNINGS: reader and seokmin both run (faceless) porn accounts on twitter, sexting, dirty talk, masturbation, SIZE KINK!, mutual masturbation, oral, nose meal!! (it's dk so duh), multiple orgasms, protected sex, but also unprotected sex, missionary, cowgirl, creampie, cumplay/cum eating, praise kink
A/N: requested by world's #1 cuties g @miniseokminnies for my Cosmos event! i went a lil crazy w this one hope u don't mind!!! ty @haologram for beta-ing <3
SYNOPSIS: As an anonymous porn account on Twitter, you're often engaging flirtaciously with other accounts — it's good for business, after all — but you never let yourself catch real feelings. Until now, when you've started sexting with the owner of your personal favorite account, an extremely hot (and hung) guy who goes by Nico. You know Nico is local, and you're really into each other, so you're genuinely considering doing your first collab with him. But then you have a realization: you're pretty fucking sure you know him in real life already.
ding
You pick up your phone, seeing a DM notification from Twitter. As you open the app you smile — it's exactly who you hoped would be messaging you.
@/xcalibur_: wowwww you look amazing in the new vid 😍
It's Nico — one of your mutuals. Due to the nature of the content you put out, and the fact that you choose to remain anonymous online — posting everything under a pseudonym, Berrie — you are constantly having to balance casually flirting with other adult content creators to build your network while also not getting too close to anybody. It's good business, and also for your own safety. But you and Nico have followed each other for a few months now, and he seems like a genuinely sweet guy. It also doesn't help that he is outrageously hot, and has the prettiest cock you've ever seen. You should probably be ashamed by how many times you've cum to his videos, but shame surrounding sex is something you left behind a long time ago.
@/strawberriebaby: thanks love😘 your new pics are sooo hot btw
@/xcalibur_: thank you gorgeous ;) i didn't think the bulge pics would be so popular tbh but people seem to love it
@/strawberriebaby: it's the gray sweatpants babe, that'll drive any girl crazy in a heartbeat
@/xcalibur_: that's good to know, i'll keep that in mind 😏 hey btw, if you ever want any free personalized content from me lmk. i've cum to your videos so many times, so i definitely owe you haha
That last sentence makes your stomach do an excited flip. Sure, you post porn on Twitter. Of course other people are going to be jerking it to your videos. But something about hearing it from him specifically is really fucking hot.
@/strawberriebaby: that's crazy bc i cum to YOUR videos all the time too 🥰
@/xcalibur_: wow, what an honor to hear that from my favorite account holy shit 😍
@/strawberriebaby: lol i'll bet you say that to everyone
@/xcalibur_: nope, not at all. just you baby ❤️
@/strawberriebaby: alright then, prove it. send me a video of you jerking off right now 😊
@/xcalibur_: say less 🫡
A proud grin creeps across your face. Your thighs instinctively squeeze together, excitement flooding your senses at the prospect of receiving a personal video from Nico. Figuring you'd give him a few minutes, you decide to get up and start some laundry in the meantime. By the time you've sorted your clothes and started the first load in the washer, you already have a new DM in your notifications.
Excitedly you make your way to your bedroom, figuring you might as well enjoy yourself as you watch. Plopping onto your bed, you open Twitter and click on your chat with Nico. Sure enough, you are greeted with a seven minute-long video attachment, with a blurry image of what appears to be his bulge in the thumbnail, and an accompanying message that simply says for my favorite girl❤️.
You click play, immediately being greeted with soft moans from behind the camera as you watch him stroke himself through his sweatpants, the thick bulge heavy beneath his grasp. He's already growing hard, the soft fabric doing little to hide the shape of his cock as he touches himself, the delicate sighs escaping his lips sounding whiny already. You feel a rush of heat in your core as you watch him; he may be fully clothed still, but that doesn't stop your mouth from watering at the salacious sight.
Before long he has a full-blown erection; reaching into his pants, he takes his length in his hand, letting out a hiss at the sensation. Slipping the waistband of his sweats down he frees it from the confines of his underwear, revealing the thick, veiny shaft you've committed to memory at this point. He begins to jerk himself off, slow, measured strokes as he grips his cock tightly in his fist.
"F-fuck," you hear him groan from behind the camera. "I'm so fucking horny right now."
Grinning, you slip out of your pants with one hand, the other holding your phone as your eyes remain fixed on the pretty cock on its screen. You recline into your pillows, lightly dragging your fingertips over your pussy, discovering yourself to be much wetter than you expected. You collect your pooled arousal and spread it over your clit, sighing softly as your fingers graze the sensitive bud.
"Feels so good," he whines. "Wish it was your mouth, baby. Fuck…"
He begins to stroke himself faster now, his hand pumping up and down his length with urgent need. You slip your fingers into your pussy, fucking yourself as you watch; you start slow, but the pitiful sounds coming out of him soon have your hand flying as fast as his is. You feel like you could cum already, but you want to wait until he does. Your stomach tightens as you picture the savory sight of that in your head; checking the timestamp on the video, you're about halfway through. Just a few more minutes to go. The time seems to pass at a painfully slow pace, forcing you to pause more than once, taking the time to catch your breath as you watch Nico getting himself off with uninhibited pleasure. Your clit throbs, aching for the release of your orgasm. Finally, his whimpers begin to turn utterly pathetic — sharp cries and loud moans escaping him — and you can tell he's about to cum. Thank god, you think to yourself. You don't know how much longer you can wait.
You watch the shiny dribble of precum drip down the head of his cock, which is turning an angry shade of red as his climax begins to overtake him.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he cries. He vigorously pumps his length, cock throbbing in his grasp, until finally — he releases. With a vulgar groan white ropes of cum spurt from his tip, shooting into the air before falling onto his hand and stomach. The sight is enough to send you over the edge — your palm presses into your clit as your fingers fuck into your cunt, and you cum too. Your head falls back, eyes tearing up at the bursts of pleasure rolling through your body, but you don't take them off the screen for a second. You ride out your high, chest heaving with deep breaths as you stare at the delicious mess of cum all over Nico.
As you drift back down to earth, you watch as he lets go of his spent cock; it twitches against his stomach as he shows off his cum-coated hand, the sticky white substance dripping all over his fingers and the silver ring on his pinky. You've seen his hands plenty of times by now, and you've always thought they were exceptionally pretty. However, for some reason in this moment they seem… familiar. His long thick fingers, his pretty nails, and also the ring, too. You swear you've seen it somewhere before. You figure it's just from watching so many of his videos, but something in the back of your mind is telling you otherwise. But your mind is spinning, and it's hard to think straight right now anyway, so you push that thought aside.
You take a picture of your soaked cunt and DM it back to him.
@/strawberriebaby: that was so fucking hot, thank youuu 😘
Your phone dings as he replies immediately.
@/xcalibur_: fuck, need that pussy so bad
Maybe it's just the high from your orgasm, but his message practically has you swooning. The typing bubble pops up again right away. You watch him type for a minute, then stop. It pops up again a few moments later. You wait patiently to see what he has to say, and finally you receive another message.
@/xcalibur_: i'm not sure if you're open to collabs, so no pressure at all, but if you're ever interested lmk ;) more than willing to travel for u lol
Your heart nearly skips a beat. You've had other creators ask to collab before, but you've politely turned them all down. It's something you've definitely considered, but you don't want to do it with just anybody. It would have to be with the right person — and honestly, Nico would be perfect for the job.
@/strawberriebaby: i've never done one before, but i've been considering it tbh👀 i'm kinda nervous about it though
@/xcalibur_: that's totally fair, it's a big ask! i've also never done one, mostly for privacy reasons. might end my career if anybody finds out i do this lol
@/strawberriebaby: i'm a freelance artist, so that matters less for me haha. i'm just mostly nervous because i've never done a face reveal before
@/xcalibur_: you wouldn't have to do one if you don't want!
@/strawberriebaby: oh yeah, i mean more like… what if i met somebody irl and they weren't into me :/
@/xcalibur_: i can guarantee that won't happen if we meet, i promise :)
@/strawberriebaby: i'm just kind of an awkward person 😭
@/xcalibur_: that doesn't matter to me. you're hot and i'm very into you 🙂↕️
@/strawberriebaby: you haven't even seen my face though!!
@/xcalibur_: but i know you're fucking beautiful. and i'm not just saying that!
This conversation is a lot flirtier than you usually have with people on Twitter, even your mutuals that you know fairly well. Normally if a man was talking to you like this, you would just assume it's business as usual, just another stranger on the internet trying to get into your pants. But Nico is… different. Maybe you're delusional — maybe he talks like this to everyone he wants to fuck and you're not special. But your instinct tells you he's being genuine.
@/strawberriebaby: you're crazy, but fortunately i'm into that lol
@/xcalibur_: that's great news for me😌 but fr, if you're ever in the bay area hit me up. i'll clear my fucking schedule
@/strawberriebaby: wait, you're in the bay area??
@/xcalibur_: born and raised!
@/strawberriebaby: no fucking way. i'm also in the bay area!
@/xcalibur_: omg
@/xcalibur_: not to jump the gun but this might be destiny idk
@/strawberriebaby: well, one way to find out
@/xcalibur_: does this mean you want to collab :)
@/strawberriebaby: let me sleep on it, but good chance the answer might be yes
@/xcalibur_: YAYYYYY
@/xcalibur_: i mean uh, yeah that's cool. totally a good business decision.
@/strawberriebaby: oh, totally, for sure. well i have to go now, i'm meeting a friend for dinner. pleasure doing business with you ;)
@/xcalibur_: you too babe 😘 enjoy your dinner!
Between your orgasm and your conversation with Nico, you're feeling very hot and bothered — so you decide to take a quick shower. You feel much better afterward; you get ready and head out to meet your friend, and you end up having a really nice night. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't spend the whole rest of the evening with thoughts of your potential collab lingering in the back of your mind.
On Saturday, you have a gig as a wedding photographer — one of the many hats you wear. The wedding isn't until the afternoon, but you're supposed to be there by 11am to get set up and run through the schedule with the wedding planner. You're running slightly behind, but you're still on time — as long as you leave by 10:30, you'll be fine.
At 10:25am you are on your way out of your apartment. As you lock the door behind you, you spot a figure out of the corner of your eye approaching from down the hallway. Turning your head, you see that it's your neighbor, Seokmin.
"Hey y/n!" he tells you cheerfully. "Haven't seen you in a minute!"
Seokmin lives down the hall from you, so you run into him fairly frequently in passing. You usually don't go out of your way to talk to other people in your building outside of polite small talk, and you don't know Seokmin all that well truthfully. You pretty much only know that he's a lawyer, and apparently a pretty good one at that — but with his gregarious nature and bright smile, he's easily one of the nicest people you've ever met.
"Hey Seokmin," you smile back, giving him a small wave. "Yeah, I've been working odd jobs lately, so my schedule is kind of all over the place."
Seokmin reaches his front door. Still facing you, he rummages around in his bag, presumably for his keys.
"Nice, where are you off to today?"
"Photography gig," you answer. "I'm working a wedding."
"Oh, fun!" he beams at you, his arm still digging around the bottom of his bag. Finally, his hand closes around the small cluster of metal; he pulls the keys out, turning to the door to raising his hand to the lock. As he does so, you notice a silver ring around his pinky, and suddenly you realize where you've seen this exact same hand before.
Your eyes widen, staring at Seokmin's hand, looking for anything to tell you you're wrong, that can't be the same hand… You blink, hoping you're just imagining things — but deep down you know your eyes do not deceive you.
Seokmin peers back at you, about to say something else, but you look like you've seen a ghost.
"Are you okay?" he asks, slightly concerned.
"I just— I forgot something," you say in a panic, plastering a faux smile on your face. You spin on your heel and rush back into your apartment before he can ask any more questions. "Catch you later!"
"Bye!" Seokmin shouts after you. He turns and enters his apartment, not thinking anything of it.
You, however, are now spiraling. You pace around your apartment as you take your phone out and open Twitter, scrolling to your DMs with Nico and playing back the video he sent you the other night. You fast forward to the end, stopping when you see his cum-coated hand in frame. Without a doubt, it looks just like Seokmin's. You might've been able to convince yourself that they just look similar, that there's no chance in hell they belong to the same person — but the presence of the identical ring makes it undeniable.
"What the fuck," you mutter under your breath, trying to process this information. Sure, Seokmin is objectively an attractive man — but you've never thought of him like that before. But the more you think about it, the way Nico talks and his amicable, sweet nature match Seokmin's demeanor perfectly. And he does have the exact same build you've seen fully nude from the shoulders down dozens of times on your phone screen.
But you don't have time to stand here and freak out about this right now. You have to get to work. You peek out your peephole, just to make sure he's not still out there for any reason, but the hallway is vacant. You lock the door behind you and make your exit as quickly as possible.
Fortunately, the wedding setup and the ceremony itself keep you busy enough to keep your mind off the fact that Nico is your literal neighbor. After the reception ends, you head home, but decide to stop at the CVS on your way back. You grab the couple items you need from your list and head to check out, but on your way to the register you pass the condom section. You stop for a second; you do have a box at home already, but Nico/Seokmin's video drifts to the front of your mind, reminding you just how fucking huge his cock is.
Stop it, you think to yourself. You didn't even say you'd collab with him yet. Do you even want to do that now that you know he's been living across the hall from you this whole time?? But you know in your heart that the answer is a resounding yes.
With a sigh, you grab a box of XL condoms off the shelf and toss it in your basket.
You spend the whole evening trying not to think about Seokmin, to no avail. You even put on Howl's Moving Castle, hoping that your favorite movie will be a good distraction, but even that isn't enough to get your mind of that fucking video he sent you. You can't even blame him, because you're the one who asked him to send it in the first place.
Idiot, you chastise yourself. He did say he was also in the Bay Area, but so are seven million other people; never in your wildest dreams would you have expected him to live in your exact building — because what are the fucking odds of that? But regardless, it's true, and now you have to figure out what the hell you are going to do about it. You pretty much have two options: tell him you know, or pretend like you don't. Neither one is very good — the latter would probably be the smarter option, but it doesn't change the fact that you still want to hit like so bad.
Your phone buzzes. Looking down, you see a DM from Nico pop up in your notifications.
"Speak of the devil…" you mumble to yourself. You pick up the phone and open it to his message.
@/xcalibur_: heyyyy cutie ❤️ how was your day?
You stare at the screen for a minute, deliberating, but eventually you decide to respond.
@/strawberriebaby: honestly i had such a weird fucking day 😭
@/xcalibur_: oh no! what happened? (if you don't mind me asking)
@/strawberriebaby: nothing bad, just… weird. can i ask you something?
@/xcalibur_: of course baby
@/strawberriebaby: what would you do if i said i think we might know each other irl?
Your heart races as you hit send. You have no idea how he's going to respond, but you decide fuck it. Worst case scenario it'll make things so awkward you will have to move, but that's a problem for later. You watch the typing bubble anxiously as you await his reply.
@/xcalibur_: wait, seriously? how so?
@/strawberriebaby: i recognized your ring in the video.
@/xcalibur_: i'm sure a lot of guys have a ring like mine tho, maybe it just looks similar to someone you know?
@/strawberriebaby: that's what i was thinking. but then i saw you in the hallway this morning when i was on my way to work
The typing bubble does not pop up again. A few minutes pass, and you start to wonder if you've royally fucked up — but then you hear a knock at your front door.
You get up and walk over to the peephole, peering out to see none other than Seokmin standing there, wearing grey sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt that puts his thick biceps on full display. You open the door, coming face to face with him; you stare at each other for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say.
"You…" he finally starts, but you just grab him by the wrist and pull him inside. Door shutting behind him, you are now alone together, standing far to close to one another in the entryway of your home.
"It is you," he says in a hushed tone, staring at you with sparkling brown eyes. "You're Berrie." You nod, locking eyes with him, making your stomach do a nervous flip.
"And you're Nico," you reply softly. He nods back, a bewildered look coloring his face.
"This is crazy," he laughs incredulously. "I've always thought you were so pretty, but I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."
"Well, turns out we've already seen each other naked," you point out. He lets out a laugh.
"Yeah, I suppose so…"
You stare at each other for a moment, the tension in the room turning palpable.
"Well, my offer still stands, you know," he says, suddenly turning a bit flushed. "About the collab. If you want."
"Do you mean… right now?" you ask, taking a step forward.
"Yeah," he whispers, also stepping forward to bridge the gap between the two of you. "I do." Slowly he raises his right hand, cradling your cheek in his palm as he holds your face, the metal of his ring cool against your cheek. You let out a soft gasp; your hands drift to his torso, pressing them against his muscular abs, sliding them up across his chest before you take his shirt in your fists, yanking him toward you closer still.
"Kiss me," you tell him, and without a moment of hesitation his lips are crashing into yours.
His hand drifts from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling your face into his so he can kiss you with unrestrained vigor. His other hand drifts to your waist, rubbing your hip slowly as he tastes you, his lips tugging on yours in sheer desperation. You kiss him back, grabbing him by his sides as you press your body into him.
"Fuck," he grumbles, barely taking his lips off you as he grabs your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh."You're so perfect."
The stiffening in his pants is undeniable, pressing against your stomach as he holds you close. You want nothing more than to rip your clothes off and throw yourself at him, but you know that teasing him for a bit first would be enticing for the both of you — and you want to savor this.
You break the kiss, staring up at him sweetly, before you take his hand in yours and start pulling him toward your bedroom.
"C'mon," you say, looking back at him as you tug him along. He grins, gazing at you excitedly at he eagerly follows. Entering your room, he lets out a chuckle.
"Wow, so this is where the magic happens, huh?" he asks, gesturing at your ring light and tripod set up at the foot of your bed.
"Sure is," you smile. "I was planning on filming tonight, let me move this real quick—"
"Wait," Seokmin says, grabbing hold of your wrist. You turn to face him again, his soft brown eyes staring at you lustfully. "You should go ahead and film."
"It's okay, I can do it tomorrow—" you start, but he grabs you by the chin, tilting your face up to his so he can kiss you again.
"I want to watch," he mutters into your lips. A smile spreads across your face.
"Okay," you beam at him.
Grabbing your phone, you set it up on the tripod, the video camera open and ready. You strip your clothes off as you make your way over to your bed, plopping into the center and making yourself comfortable. You spread your legs, revealing your bare pussy, already glimmering with arousal in the dim lighting.
"Ready?" Seokmin asks, his finger hovering above the record button.
"More than," you grin.
He taps the button, and the video begins.
Slowly you slide your hand down your body, dipping your fingers into your cunt, pulling them out again to show off the stick mess of juices dripping out of you. Seokmin licks his lips, palming himself through his sweatpants as he quickly starts to grow hard. You touch yourself lazily, staring up at him as you start to get yourself off; you were planning on taking your sweet time, but having him watch you like this is making you unbearably horny. Soft moans escape your lips as you begin to play with your clit, causing him to grip his bulge in his fist tightly as he takes a deep breath. Your other hand grasps at your breast, squeezing it as your fingers start to move faster. The sight is too much for Seokmin. Mouth watering, he pulls his pants down and frees his cock, stroking it slowly in his large hand. You've seen it dozens of times, so you knew exactly what to expect — and yet seeing the sheer size of his cock with your own two eyes has you clenching around nothing. You swear you've never craved anything more in your life.
Your fingers begin to work faster, flicking back and forth over your clit, hips rocking slowly as a burning heat begins to fill your gut. Watching Seokmin masturbate as he watches you masturbate has to be the hottest thing you've ever experienced. His eyes don't leave you for a second, his gaze flickering from your pussy to your breasts to your pretty face, savoring the sight of every inch of you. Soon, he's stroking himself with a sense of urgency, his hand working his cock faster and faster, egged on by your incessant whimpering as you approach your high. Your body writhes against the mattress as an explosive orgasm suddenly overtakes you — your legs tremble, your head falls back into the pillows as you release, crying out with pleasure as the shockwaves of your climax pulse through you.
Your mind spins as you come down, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you try to recover. Your eyes flutter open again, seeing Seokmin still standing there, staring at you like he wants to devour you. His hand has stilled, gripping his thick hard cock tightly, his tip glistening with his leaking juices.
"Turn that off and come fuck me already," you tell him, grinning eagerly. He stops the video and walks over to your bed, climbing over you and pressing a long kiss against your lips. You reach for his cock, but he's already scooting back down, positioning himself between your legs.
"I will," he replies, suddenly grabbing you by the thighs and folding you in half, making you gasp. "But first…"
You cry out as he drags his tongue over your cunt, groaning as he laps up the pool of juices.
"Fuck, even better than I imagined."
He slips his tongue into your hole, fucking it in and out as his nose bumps against your swollen clit, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine.
"Oh my god—" you moan, brushing your fingers through his dark hair and grasping onto it. You hold his head in place, but he had no plans of pulling away anyway. He eats you out slowly, savoring every drop of you, his tongue running through your folds and over your clit until you feel the pressure of a second orgasm building inside you. Your hips begin to rock against his face, rubbing your clit over his nose, until you are cumming again. His hands grip your thighs as he doesn't stop, licking your pussy as you ride out your high.
"Fuck," you gasp for air as you pry his head off of you. He grins at you sheepishly, his entire chin dripping.
"Sorry, got a bit carried away," he admits.
"No, don't apologize," you smile at him. "That was fucking amazing."
He dives in one more time to press a soft kiss into your spent clit. Crawling back up to you, you pull him in for a kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth to taste yourself on him.
"Now will you fuck me?" you tease as your lips part.
"Of course, baby," he says with one more kiss. "I didn't bring any protection though, I kinda ran out the door without thinking…"
"It's okay, I have some," you tell him. Reaching into your drawer you pull out the unopened box of XL condoms you're grateful you bought on a whim. As you open the package, he gives you a quizzical look.
"Do you always keep these on hand?" he asks teasingly.
"Nope," you reply. "Bought them today."
"Oh," he says softly, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face. "So you bought these specifically for me, then."
"Yes," you answer matter-of-factly, making his cheeks turn flushed.
"I guess we're kinda obsessed with each other then, huh?" he asks, grinning widely.
"Seems that way," you beam back at him.
You pull one of the small packets out, tossing the box aside and ripping it open. You pull the condom out and reach for Seokmin's cock. You give it a few pumps, making him groan.
"God, it's so fucking hot to have you actually touching me."
"Good," you grin. You take the condom and stretch it over his tip, rolling it down his length. You grab his cock and guide it to your entrance, rubbing his head over your folds. He moves his hips, pressing it in gently, but you're so soaked that it slips in with ease. You gasp, staring at his cock as it disappears into your cunt, filling you up like never before.
"Oh my god you're huge," you say mouth ajar. You gaze back up, meeting his eyes as he stares at you hungrily. Slowly he begins to fuck you, pulling his cock out and pushing it all the way back in.
"You feel incredible," he mutters as he leans his head in, kissing the side of your neck delicately. You let out a soft, involuntary whine, making Seokmin's head spin more than it already is.
"Fuck, you're so hot," he groans. "Keep making those noises baby, I like it."
"Feels so good," you whimper as he fucks into you harder.
"You're taking me so well," he coos, his hand drifting to your nipple and tugging on it lightly. "Such a good girl."
"Harder," you plead. He smirks, then starts fucking you faster, giving you exactly what you asked for.
"Oh my god, I wanna cum," he moans, leaning in to kiss you, tugging on your bottom lip. He slows to a stop, breathing heavily above you. "Will you please ride me?" he asks, staring deep into your eyes. You nod eagerly, making him grin excitedly. He gently pulls out of you, rolling onto his back and bringing you with him. You straddle him, rubbing your cunt over his cock. You pause for a second, giving him a curious look.
"What is it, love?" he asks softly.
"Let me take it off," you say, dragging your fingertip over his wrapped length. "I want you to cum in me."
His eyes widen. "You're gonna be the death of me," he says with a laugh.
"Is that a yes?" you ask, tugging lightly at the tip of the condom.
"Yeah," he nods. "Absolutely."
You giggle excitedly as you remove the barrier, discarding it and quickly positioning yourself over his cock. It slides in with ease as you sit on it, making you groan as you take his full length inside you.
"Holy fucking shit your pussy feels so good," he moans, his jaw dropping. "Oh my god…"
You begin to ride him, slowly gliding yourself up and down his length, but before long you're fully bouncing up and down on him, crying out from pleasure as his cock reaches deep inside you.
"F-fuck," you whine, pressing your hands against his chest to support yourself as you ride his perfect cock.
"Don't stop," he begs. "I'm so close."
Obediently you keep up your pace, tears welling in your eyes as you stare down at Seokmin. His head drops against the pillow, his eyes rolling back as you feel his cock start to pulse inside you.
"I'm cumming, baby," he groans. He cries out as he releases, and you feel his hot ropes of cum shooting against your walls as a string of delectable moans drifts from his lips. He grabs your hips, squeezing them tight in his grasp as he holds you in place, fucking his cock up into you with careless abandon. His cock twitches as he gives you all of his cum; eventually his hips begin to slow, coming to a stop, his hands still holding a strong grip on your sides.
"Wow," he sighs as he comes back to earth. He smiles, letting out a giggle as he opens his eyes to look at you again. "You're fucking perfect. Let me see," he says, gesturing to your filled pussy. You lift yourself off his length, letting the cum drip out of you, coating his cock and stomach with the sticky mess. Collecting the remainder of his cum from your cunt on your fingers, you lift your hand to your mouth, licking them clean.
"Goddamn," he mumbles as he watches you. You unstraddle him and lean over, licking up the cum from his abdomen as well. He watches you through heavy eyelids, petting your hair as you clean him up.
"C'mere," he says when you finish, pulling you up into his embrace. You snuggle in next to him as he wraps his broad arms around you, holding you tight as he kisses your forehead. You rest there for a few silent moments, breathing together as he gently rubs your back.
"I suppose we could've filmed that," you say after a few minutes, lifting your head out of the crook of his neck to look at him. "But I didn't even think of that. I was too distracted by your huge fucking cock."
Seokmin laughs. "That's okay," he replies sweetly. "Besides, I wanted you all to myself. But we can do this again, if you want."
"Absolutely," you nod.
"Good," he says as he smiles brightly. He pulls you into a tight hug, kissing you again, kissing you over and over for as long as you'll let him — which is very long time, but neither of you mind it one bit.
[TWO WEEKS LATER]
You wake up to thousands of notifications, all from Twitter.
You think you're seeing things at first, but as you scroll you confirm that, indeed, you have more notifications right now than you've ever seen in your life. Smiling, you go to your text messages and open your chat with Seokmin, who has already texted you this morning.
Seokmin: wow, i guess people liked the video :)
You open Twitter and go to your profile, looking at the video you have pinned. The caption reads: We finally collabed @/xcalibur_ 💕 Full video on OF. The clip is a preview of the nearly 30-minute-long sex tape you uploaded to your OnlyFans account — your first official collab with Nico.
Since the first time you fucked, it actually took the both of you about six more times before one of you remembered to turn a camera on. You've been too busy being utterly and completely obsessed with each other, fucking on seemingly every possible surface in both of your apartments. But finally, you decided to film it for real, and it appears Twitter is having a fucking field day with it. Overnight alone, the tweet gained over 5,000 retweets and 12,000 likes. You decide to scroll through the replies to see what people are saying.
holy shit this was so hottttt
The collab of a LIFETIME!!!
omg my two favorites in one video?? i'm in heaven 😍
bro i just nutted in 1 minute wtf
pls make more videos together 🙏 y'alls chemistry is FIRE
Smiling, you return to your texts and reply to Seokmin.
You: i guess so ;) i can't believe we went viral lol
Seokmin: i can. that video was so hot ☺️
You: you're so right
Seokmin: what are you doing tonight?
You: you, hopefully
Seokmin: oh for sure!! but, i was actually hoping to take you out to dinner. it's about time i took you on a proper date
You: wait, are you're saying you want to date me? 🥺
Seokmin: absolutely i do. if you want, of course
You: i'd love nothing more ❤️
Seokmin: YAY :)))
PAIRING: TA!wonwoo x TA!reader
GENRE: college au, e2l, smut/suggestive [18+ MDNI]
WC: 5,699
WARNINGS: kissing sloppy style, semi-public sex but like barely, light breast play, dry humping, they're a lil toxic but it's fine, fade-to-black sex
A/N: requested by @minisugakoobies for my milestone event!! sorry i made him so annoying in this asfkhasjfdf but i hope you like it ♡ (not beta'd)
SUMMARY: Your TA job would be perfectly fine and well if it weren't for your pretentious, nearly-insufferable coworker. Wonwoo seems to have made it his life mission to do everything in his power to irritate you, which is why you're blindsided when he asks you on a date completely out of the blue one day.
Every single thing Wonwoo Jeon does pisses you off.
It's bad enough having a co-TA that's pretentious as fuck. You studied English in undergrad, and every single male English major you ever met was a big-headed know-it-all, so you're (unfortunately) used to the type. But on top of being full of himself, Wonwoo has apparently made it his life's mission to do everything in his power to one-up you in every regard. No matter how early you show up to anything, he is somehow always already there; no matter how fast you grade papers, he's always finished well before you; no matter what the discussion subject is, he always has to repeat everything you say in a way that sounds smarter than the way you said it. There are seven trillion nerves in the human body, and he manages to get on every single one of them.
So when you walk into your own office hours one day to see him sitting at your desk, talking to your students, it takes everything in you not to snap.
"Wow, I wasn't expecting to see you at my office hours!" you say with a forced grin, your words dripping with sarcasm.
"Y/n, how lovely of you to show up," he smiles smugly at you. "I thought I'd use my free time to actually help out our students."
"Well aren't you a saint."
"Just doing my job."
"That's funny, because you seem to be doing my job right now."
"Well now, I wouldn't have to do your job if you were capable of showing up on time."
"I am only," you scowl, lifting your wrist to glance at your watch. "Four minutes late."
"You're right," he waves his hand dismissively. "It's fine to waste people's time if it's only four minutes."
The two undergrads sitting between the both of you look visibly uncomfortable. There's a lot of things you wish to say right now, none of them polite — but since you have an audience, you refrain.
"Well, since you clearly don't need me here, I'll just go home then," you tell Wonwoo with a huff. "Have fun running my office hours."
You storm off before he can say anything else, letting the door slam shut behind you.
You're fuming all the way home. Normally, you are very patient with others, even when it comes to jerks with less than savory personalities — but something about Wonwoo grinds your gears like nothing else. The problem is that he knows he can get under your skin with bare minimum effort, and, for whatever fucking reason, he takes every opportunity he can to weaponize this against you.
With your unanticipated bit of free time, you decide to channel your rage into productivity, working on your thesis for the remainder of the afternoon. Thankfully, it works, and by dinnertime you've forgotten all about your annoying coworker.
The next day is off to a great start. You got up early, giving yourself plenty of time to stop by the campus cafe and grab a bagel and coffee. You sip the hot beverage as you walk to the Literature Hall for your 10am discussion, strolling along with an extra bit of pep in your step as you enjoy the peaceful, pleasant morning. Everything is going great — until you step into the classroom and see Wonwoo sitting at one of the desks in the back, stretched out casually like he fucking lives here.
"Oh, what are you doing here today Wonwoo?" you ask with a faux grin, playing dumb. There's already a handful of students in the room, so despite the fact that you're suddenly seeing red you are forced to be civil.
"Oh, just had some free time this morning," he answers blithely. "Thought I'd pop in and join the discussion."
"You sure seem to have a lot of free time for someone in grad school," you remark.
Wonwoo shrugs arrogantly. "What can I say, I'm efficient at managing my time."
You would love to walk back there and slap that dumb look off his dumb face. Instead you decide to ignore him for the remainder of the hour — a task that proves to be unfeasible, due to his constant self-insertion into the conversation. Unfortunately, he is extremely smart and articulate, so the students eagerly engage with his bullshit.
It's the fucking Great Gatsby, you think to yourself. Does he really have nothing better to do than flex his knowledge on a boring, easy book to a bunch of clueless freshmen??
The remainder of hour passes at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you wish to bang your head against the wall about it. At five-til Wonwoo decides to bring up a completely new topic, seemingly trying to get this session to drag on forever, but you're not having any of it today.
"Very interesting points you bring up there, Wonwoo," you loudly interrupt him. "But class is over now. Next week we will discuss the remaining chapters, so be sure to finish reading the book before then."
The students begin to shuffle out, and Wonwoo is quick to make his exit.
"Oh, Wonwoo, I had a question for you," you call out to him before he can make it out of the room, but he doesn't stop.
"Sorry, gotta run," he replies smugly. "Feel free to shoot me an email if you want to talk!" With a wave he zips out the door and disappears.
Needless to say, you did not shoot him an email; but by late-afternoon, much to your chagrin, he is in your inbox anyway.
Dear y/n,
You had a question for me earlier, however I noticed that you hadn't reached out to me about it yet, so I figured I'd contact you since you clearly forgot. What can I help you with?
Best,
WJ
"Pretentious little fucking prick," you grumble to yourself. You delete the email and shut your laptop.
After a lovely, Wonwoo-free weekend, you have the misfortune of starting off your week with him in your weekly TA/professor check-in first thing Monday morning. Of course, despite you getting there ten minutes early, Wonwoo is already in Professor Sosa's office, balls deep in some bullshit conversation about whatever bullshit book he's been reading recently. You sit down in the remaining chair, without a word, waiting for them to be done so you can get this painful meeting over with — but to your dismay, neither one of them seem to be in any rush. You peek at your watch a couple times, trying not to appear as annoyed as you currently are. Wonwoo definitely notices, though.
"I could talk about Wallace's use of the unreliable narrator for days," he grins, turning to you. "But I don't want to bore y/n any further. Shall we get started on the midterm?"
You take a deep breath as the professor begins to discuss the essay topics. You're going to try your hardest not to let him get on your nerves this early in the day — a task that's already proving itself to be a challenge. The next thirty minutes drag on at the slowest imaginable pace; you do your best to focus on the work at hand, but of course Wonwoo keeps going off on ostentatious tangents, and purposefully dragging you into the conversations no less. When the meeting finally ends, you're ready to book it out of there; you reach for your notebook sitting on the table beside you, but despite you just sitting it down a few moments ago it's not there. You look around, but you don't see it on the floor anywhere. Maybe you put it away already — but a peek into your backpack comes up empty-handed.
You notice Wonwoo watching you, wearing his usual arrogant expression, but you ignore him. The moment the professor leaves, he leans over to you.
"Looking for this?" he asks smugly, holding your missing notebook out to you. You go to grab it, but he quickly pulls it back out of reach.
"Seriously?" you ask, not bothering to hide your exasperation.
"What's the rush?" he taunts. "I know you don't have anywhere to be until 2."
"And how would you know that?" you narrow your eyes at him.
"I memorized your schedule."
You stare back at him, looking genuinely confused. "Why??"
He shrugs. "Figured it'd be good to know."
You'd love to know exactly what he means by that, but you don't want to make this conversation any longer than necessary.
"Well isn't that just wonderful," you say as sarcastically as possible, rising to your feet; Wonwoo follows suit. "Now will you give me my notebook back?"
You reach for it again, but he lifts it above his head — well out of your reach.
"What the actual fuck is your problem?!" you raise your voice. He looks surprised, but a cocky grin spreads across his face.
"It's okay, y/n, I'm just messing with you."
"Well, don't!!"
You glare at him, but he still wears that dumb, satisfied smirk.
"You don't have to act like you hate me, you know."
"It's not acting."
"Of course it's not," he smiles, unbothered. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."
"Okay," you sigh exasperatedly. "What do you want to ask me, Wonwoo?"
"What's your favorite restaurant?"
"What??"
"Your favorite restaurant," he repeats. "I'd like to take you out to dinner."
You stand there aghast. "You're not serious," you say to him.
"I am."
"What on earth makes you think I want to go on a date with you?!"
"It doesn't have to be a date," he responds. "We can go as friends."
"We are not friends," you reply coldly, snatching your notebook out of his hands and shoving it into your backpack before he can stop you.
"See you in class tomorrow!" he calls out warmly as you storm out of the room, clearly not affected by anything you said.
You want to tell him to go fuck himself, but you hold your tongue, instead letting the door slam behind you as you exit the office without another word.
The next day you show up to class right on time, and not a moment sooner. You figured if you got there right as the lecture begins, Wonwoo wouldn't be able to talk to you — and thankfully, you were right. He's sitting two chairs down, and you feel his eyes on you the whole hour, but you do not turn to look at him even once. When the lesson finally concludes, you book it out of there, but apparently that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.
"Y/n!" he calls out as he hurries after you. You keep walking, pretending not to hear him, but he catches up to you quickly.
"Hey, I was wondering if you—"
"The answer is no," you cut him off.
"You don't even know what I was going to ask," he smiles at you.
"Whatever it is, I'm not interested."
"Alright, guess I'll find someone else who's interested in first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie on Saturday."
You stop in your tracks, your head snapping over to him.
"You do not have first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie," you call him out. "That show has been sold out for weeks."
"I have connections."
"Right. Do you even like Death Cab?" you ask doubtfully.
"I don't know, I've never heard any of their songs," he answers matter-of-factly. "But I know they're your favorite band."
"And why do you know that??"
He shrugs. "I pay attention."
"So let me get this straight. You bought concert tickets to my favorite band in hopes that I'd go on a date with you?"
"It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want," he replies. "We can go as friends."
"I already told you," you glare at him, lowering your voice so none of the students passing by can hear you bickering. "We are not friends."
"But we can be," he smiles softly. "Just give me one chance. We have more in common than you think, y/n."
You roll your eyes. "I'm not having this conversation with you," you tell him, walking away.
"Think about it," he calls out as you head off down the hall.
"I won't" you grumble quietly under your breath.
Unfortunately you're not able to get Wonwoo and his concert tickets off your mind. You even end up ranting to your roommate about it, but to your dismay she thinks you should accept the offer.
"Are you crazy?!" Sana asks. "You're not seriously going to pass up free concert tickets to your favorite band just because you don't want to go on a date?"
"It's not even a date," you complain. "He just wants to go as friends."
"Okay, even better! What's the issue then?"
"The issue," you answer, "is that he's the most pretentious, insufferable douchebag to ever walk the face of the earth."
"He can't possibly be that bad."
You roll your eyes. "You'd be surprised."
"Come on, y/n," she insists. "You can literally take advantage of him! Just go to the concert and then never talk to him outside of class again. You know you'll regret it if you don't."
You grimace, because she's right. It's not even just concert tickets — it's front row concert tickets, for free. You'd be a fool not to accept the offer. But you can't help that spending an entire evening with Wonwoo genuinely sounds like your own personal hell.
"I'll think about it," you reply to Sana with a deep sigh.
You do think about it — far too much, perhaps. By Thursday, despite hating yourself a bit for it, you come to the conclusion that when he asks again you will accept. So you wait for him to inevitably send you an email, or show up unannounced at your office hours, but you don't see or hear from him once. Strange, considering how much he usually goes out of his way to bother you, but honestly you're enjoying the peace while it lasts. You've all but given up on the concert when finally, late in the Friday afternoon, you get an email from Wonwoo.
Dear y/n,
I assume you've changed your mind about the concert by now, so I will plan to pick you up at 5pm tomorrow — that way we can go to dinner before the show. Please let me know your favorite restaurant so I can make a reservation accordingly.
Best,
WJ
With a sigh, you type up your reply.
Hello Wonwoo,
I like Thai food — you take your pick of restaurant. See you tomorrow.
—y/n
It pains you to hit send, but you do anyway. You're getting a free dinner and concert out of this, you remind yourself. You can suck it up and deal with Wonwoo for one night.
And you know it's true. You've dealt with bigger bullshit before than spending a few hours with one annoying man — besides, like Sana said, how bad could it possibly be? Still, you can't shake the anxious feeling that he has some ulterior motive here. Maybe he's just doing this to fuck with you, maybe he's going to do everything he can to make your night as miserable as possible. But maybe he's not. You can't fathom that he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart — if anything, he's probably just trying to get into your pants. But, you suppose there's only one way to find out.
True to his word, Wonwoo showed up to your apartment at 5pm on the dot to pick you up. You were lowkey regretting agreeing to go to dinner with him — at least at the concert you won't have to engage in actual conversation, but an hour or so spent one-on-one with him, making small talk? What were you thinking?? But it was too late to back out, so here you are, sitting across the dinner table from your mortal enemy at a Thai place on the other side of town that you've never even heard of before.
"How did you even find this place?" you ask him as you peruse the menu. "This is so far from campus."
"I'm attempting to try every restaurant in town," he answers casually, not looking up from his menu. "It's something of a hobby of mine."
"Oh, really?" you reply. Wonwoo glances up at you, a peek of a grin poking at his lips.
"You sound surprised."
"I guess I just didn't know that about you," you shrug.
"What did you think I do for fun, then?"
"I… Well, I don't know," you answer truthfully. "I guess I never thought about that before."
"So you assumed I sit in my house all day reading books," he jests.
"I didn't say that!" you protest.
"I know, y/n, I'm just teasing you," he smiles. He nudges his head toward your menu. "What are you thinking of getting?"
"I'm debating between the pad see eiw and the green curry," you answer, still staring at the page.
"The curry is really good," he tells you. "It's got the perfect amount of spice, if you like spicy."
"I do," you nod, setting your menu down too. "What are you getting?"
"I'm going with the khao moo deng."
"Oh my god, like the hippo!"
"What?" he asks, raising his brow at you.
"You know, Moo Deng! The baby hippo who went viral," you explain. "She's from Thailand — they named her after the dish."
"Oh, I don't use social media," he replies plainly.
"Now that doesn't surprise me."
Wonwoo grins. "What are you implying? That I'm uncool and out of touch?"
"I mean yeah, pretty much," you admit.
"I can live with that," he chuckles.
You order, slightly worried about the quality of the food considering that there is only one other occupied table in the whole restaurant; but as soon as the server sets the aromatic dish in front of you, your mouth starts watering. The curry is incredible — some of the best you've ever had, even. You hate to admit it, but Wonwoo did manage to pick a great restaurant. By the time you finish eating, you realize you've been yapping nonstop the whole time. A bit annoying, considering that you more or less hate his guts, but you're just glad the evening hasn't turned out to be a complete disaster yet.
Despite your protests, Wonwoo pays for your dinner, and it is time to head to the concert. Stupidly, you have butterflies in your stomach the whole way there, but you chalk it up to your sheer excitement over finally seeing your favorite band for the very first time. Making your way into the theater, you walk with Wonwoo all the way to the front of the auditorium, suddenly becoming very self-conscious about possibly being perceived with him of all people. But, you don't want to think about that right now, so you just hope and pray no one you know is here.
"Holy shit," you remark as you take your seats. "I've never been this close at a concert before."
"Me neither," Wonwoo replies. "Though, I suppose I've never been to any concert before."
"Wait," you say, turning to look at him. "Are you serious?"
He turns to face you, making you realize that the two of you are currently very uncomfortably close to each other.
"Yes," he answers. "Though, I suppose I did see the New York Philharmonic while I was visiting NYC a few years ago."
"I mean, sure, but that's not a concert concert."
He grins at you. "What would you consider a concert concert, then?"
"You know, like a band that's on tour. That you would buy albums of."
"Well, I suppose most of the artists I listen to aren't touring so much these days."
"Yeah I think Beethoven's a little dead at this point."
Wonwoo laughs. "I meant more so that I listen to a lot of classic rock from the 60s and 70s," he explains. "So you're not entirely wrong about them being dead."
"I didn't know you were into the classics," you respond, surprised to find out that you have that in common. "I grew up listening to that era of music too."
"You never asked," he shrugs.
The lights in the theater dim, and the crowd begins to cheer as the shadowy figures of the band take to the stage in the dark. As the first song begins, you suddenly feel overwhelmed — you're not much of a concert person usually, but hearing the music you've been listening to since you were young live and in person is making you feel inexplicably emotional. You quickly blink the tears from your eyes, and the sensation soon dissipates, returning you to the music and the atmosphere of fans singing along to all the lyrics. The show is so incredible that for the remainder of the night you barely even recall who it is you came here with in the first place. You're having too much fun to notice, but Wonwoo's eyes keep flickering over to you, a soft look of affection etched onto his face.
The concert-goers flood out of the theater in droves, chattering and laughing as everyone is still riding the rush of adrenaline from the show. You and Wonwoo make your way across the parking lot, the chill of the night air refreshing as it tingles against your cheeks.
"So, how was it?" Wonwoo asks as you walk in the general direction of his car. Free of the joyful environment of the concert, you remember now how much he has always annoyed you. But, much to your surprise, the annoyance you typically feel around him is not present, nor is the smug attitude that usually colors his voice.
"That was amazing," you admit, smiling blissfully. "I still can't believe I actually got to experience my favorite band live."
"Good," he smiles at you. You approach his car, Wonwoo brushing past you to open the passenger side door for you. You give him a confused look, but you just thank him and let yourself into the car. Once you're in he shuts the door, and you watch him as he walks around to the driver's side. You don't particularly want to inflate his ego any further, but you know you have to genuinely thank him for the whole experience.
He gets in the car, turning the keys in the ignition, the engine coming to life.
"Thank you for the ticket, Wonwoo," your voice comes out softly as he reaches for the gear shift. His hand pauses atop it, looking over to meet your gaze. You were standing next to him all night, but the distance between the two of you suddenly feels extremely close; yet, it's not uncomfortable.
"You're welcome, y/n," he smiles at you.
"I have to ask, though," you continue. "Why did you do it?"
He cocks his head at you slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" you start hesitantly. You don't want to be too blunt, but you also don't feel the need to beat around the bush.
"I mean, why buy me concert tickets when I've made it very clear I don't even like you?"
Wonwoo grins slightly. "Why do you think?"
"Honestly?" you reply. "Probably to get in my pants, I don't fucking know."
"Well, that's certainly not something I'd be opposed to," he chuckles. "But that's not why."
"Okay," you concede. "Why, then?"
He gazes back at you with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter anxiously.
"Because I knew it would make you happy," he answers. "And I want you to be happy whether you like me or not."
You feel your stomach drop, your face suddenly burning hot. That was not the answer you were expecting, and you quite frankly don't know how to respond.
"I—" you stammer quietly. "I… Sorry, I don't know what to say to that," you admit, trying to hide your embarrassed face behind your hand.
"You don't have to say anything," he tells you gently, shifting the car into reverse and pulling out of the spot. You sit there silently as he waits in the slow-moving line to exit the parking lot, wishing you could disappear. You're considering hopping out of the car and finding another ride home, but the line finally starts moving. As Wonwoo heads toward the exit, he turns to look at you.
"Can we take a brief detour on the way home?" he asks casually. "I want to show you something."
"Sure," you answer after a few seconds of silence. Wonwoo nods, switching the turn signal from right to left, pulling out into the street and driving off in the opposite direction of home. He drives for a few minutes in seemingly the wrong direction away from anything, and you're starting to wonder if you should be worried.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see in just a minute," he replies nonchalantly.
"Is this when I find out you're actually a serial killer?" you joke. Wonwoo laughs.
"No, definitely not a serial killer, I promise."
"Ooookay," you say, still unsure.
True to his word, in about another minute or so he turns onto a dirt road you didn't even see from the main road. He drives slowly as the road turns into an incline, clearly going up a steep hill.
"Sorry," he says, having noticed that you look a bit nervous. "This part of the road is a bit nerveracking, but we're almost there," he assures you.
The surrounding trees soon begin to become more sparse, eventually opening up to what looks to you like a small clearing at the top of the hill. A big metal guard rail wraps around the area; as Wonwoo pulls up to it to park the car, you gasp. Beyond the guard rail is an incredible view of the whole town, the orange glow of the streetlights and houselights making it look so warm and picturesque that it seems like a scene straight out of a movie.
"Holy shit," you say softly, awestruck by the unreal sight. Wonwoo grins, then hops out of the car. You follow suit and join him by the railing, taking in the stunning view.
"I had no idea there was anything like this around here," you say softly.
"Isn't it beautiful?" he asks. Your eyes flicker over to him, finding his gaze fixated on you.
"How did you find this?" you ask, the same rush of heat as earlier returning to your cheeks.
"My roommate last year told me about it — he grew up around here, apparently it was a popular place for high schoolers to take their dates."
"So you've brought me to a make-out point," you reply, raising your brow at him.
"I suppose so," he chuckles. "But genuinely, I just wanted to show you the view."
"So you don't want to make out with me then."
Wonwoo smiles, his eyes still locked onto yours. You feel a wave of heat overtaking you again, this time burning achingly in your core. If this had happened yesterday, you would be peeved; but the usual feeling of displeasure you feel in his presence is nowhere to be found.
"I don't want to do anything you don't want to do," he answers plainly.
"And what if I do want it?"
The words feel foreign on your tongue, your voice so soft you almost didn't recognize it as yours. But you said it, and for reasons you cannot explain, you meant it.
Wonwoo takes a small step toward you. "Want what?" he asks, the cheekiness in his words not going unnoticed.
"Want you to kiss me," you say, taking a small step toward him. Your mouths are mere inches apart, and Wonwoo's eyes definitely keep flickering down to your lips.
"You do?" he asks, a grin overtaking his face.
"Yeah," you answer, the words coming out in barely more than a whisper. "I do."
Wonwoo smiles, then the next thing you know his lips are crashing into yours. The kiss starts out soft, sweet — his mouth presses against yours delicately, savoring your taste for the first time, his fingers brushing lithely over your jaw, sending a rush of electricity coursing through your body as you accept the kiss. His hands slowly drift to your sides, slipping into your open coat and resting upon your hips. Before you can even think twice you're leaning into him, the warmth of his torso instantly blocking the chill of the late autumnal air. He kisses you slowly at first, but that doesn't last long — not with you being tangled up in each other's grasp. His lips start tugging at yours with sudden urgency, and you eagerly reciprocate. The ridiculousness of you making out with the coworker you up until tonight absolutely could not stand is not lost on you, but right now you could not care less.
His lips depart yours far too soon, his hands maintaining their grip on your waist as you stare up into his eyes. You've never seen Wonwoo from this close up — why would you have? But you don't recall his eyes ever being so soft and warm as they are gazing back at you through his lenses right now. A chill overtakes you, and you shiver slightly as the wind cuts through your layers.
"C'mere," he tells you, taking hold of your hand and starting to pull you back toward his car. "It'll be warmer in here."
He opens the door to the backseat, gesturing for you to enter first; you slide across the soft leather to the other side, allowing him room to climb in after you, but as soon as he's inside with the door closed he grabs you again, taking hold of your arms and dragging you into his embrace. Without the wind now, inside the car quickly becomes a bit too toasty. Wonwoo hastily removes your coat, tossing it into the front seat and following suit with his own jacket. He pulls you over onto him, your thigh swinging over his legs as you sit straddled across his lap, your arms draped over the top of the backseat as you lean in to kiss him again. This time his tongue swipes at your lips; you part them, allowing him entrance, your tongues now dancing against each other with fervent need. His hands slip beneath the hem of your sweater, running up your stomach and resting atop the cups of your bra. You break the kiss momentarily, the corners of your lips twisting into a sly smile.
"Go on," you say to him, nudging your head toward your sweater. "Take it off."
He grins back at you, the red glow of his cheeks apparent even in the dim lighting. Grabbing the hem he lifts the garment over your head and practically flings it onto the seat next to him. Shirtless now, he stares at your cleavage before him, his hands grasping at the soft flesh through your bra.
"I've thought about this exact scenario a thousand times," he mutters, licking his lips. "But god, it's even better than I imagined."
He peers up at you again, staring at you hungrily for the briefest of seconds before he suddenly reaches for his glasses, ripping them off his face and tossing them onto the seat with your sweater before diving back into your lips. He kisses you as his hands wander to your lower back, and your grind your hips against him — an involuntary action, but it causes your clit to press into the stiff bulge forming in his trousers. You let out a soft sigh at the sensation, exhaling against his lips as he holds you tight in his arms. Eventually his fingers return to your boobs, grazing gently over your cleavage, sending a delicious chill up your spine.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to—" he starts breathily, but you shake your head immediately.
"I want to," you tell him softly, and a mischievous grin flickers at his lips. "What?" you laugh.
"Nothing, just remembering how much you hated my guts a few days ago and here we are now," he replies cheekily, squeezing lightly at your boobs.
"I didn't 'hate your guts'," you refute as you roll your eyes. "I just found you annoying and insufferable."
"Oh, is that all?" he smirks.
"Shut up," you mumble, leaning your forehead against his as you hover your lips right above his mouth. "Do you wanna kiss me or not?"
"I do, very much so," he smiles, lightly dragging his bottom lip across yours. His hands slide to your hips, pressing your core into his erection again as he grinds you against his lap.
"Fuck," you gasp, followed by an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry, I just… it's been a little while," you admit.
"Don't apologize," he says, kissing down your down your chin, nudging his face into your neck as he places a delicate string of kisses onto the tender skin. The sensation makes you melt, sinking your clothed cunt further into his bulge. "We can take this as slow as you want."
"Who said I want to go slow?"
He lifts his head, meeting your eyes again, finding them eager and needy.
"God, you're gonna drive me crazy if you keep saying stuff like that," he says with a lazy smirk.
"Good," you reply with a grin, muttering into his lips. "Then we'll be even."
"Is that so?" he mumbles back. "Guess I'll just have to try harder to get on your nerves now."
"Oh god, please don't."
Wonwoo lets out a laugh — the sound warm and hearty.
"So, do we have a truce then?" he inquires.
"I suppose so," you answer. "Who knew all it would take for you to leave me alone is for me to fuck you?"
He grins. "A bit toxic of us, don't you think?"
"Probably," you reply with a shrug, dragging your hand down his torso, reaching for his belt and tugging at the buckle, making his eyes widen excitedly.
wow yes ta wonwoo prof wonwoo whatever Hell yes wow. great morning to start with seungkw1’s work i wish this was so so much longer because your slow burns are soso good 😭😭😭😭😭😭 But this too. wow. it’ll stay in my mind for a good week or two at least
PAIRING: TA!wonwoo x TA!reader
GENRE: college au, e2l, smut/suggestive [18+ MDNI]
WC: 5,699
WARNINGS: kissing sloppy style, semi-public sex but like barely, light breast play, dry humping, they're a lil toxic but it's fine, fade-to-black sex
A/N: requested by @minisugakoobies for my milestone event!! sorry i made him so annoying in this asfkhasjfdf but i hope you like it ♡ (not beta'd)
SUMMARY: Your TA job would be perfectly fine and well if it weren't for your pretentious, nearly-insufferable coworker. Wonwoo seems to have made it his life mission to do everything in his power to irritate you, which is why you're blindsided when he asks you on a date completely out of the blue one day.
Every single thing Wonwoo Jeon does pisses you off.
It's bad enough having a co-TA that's pretentious as fuck. You studied English in undergrad, and every single male English major you ever met was a big-headed know-it-all, so you're (unfortunately) used to the type. But on top of being full of himself, Wonwoo has apparently made it his life's mission to do everything in his power to one-up you in every regard. No matter how early you show up to anything, he is somehow always already there; no matter how fast you grade papers, he's always finished well before you; no matter what the discussion subject is, he always has to repeat everything you say in a way that sounds smarter than the way you said it. There are seven trillion nerves in the human body, and he manages to get on every single one of them.
So when you walk into your own office hours one day to see him sitting at your desk, talking to your students, it takes everything in you not to snap.
"Wow, I wasn't expecting to see you at my office hours!" you say with a forced grin, your words dripping with sarcasm.
"Y/n, how lovely of you to show up," he smiles smugly at you. "I thought I'd use my free time to actually help out our students."
"Well aren't you a saint."
"Just doing my job."
"That's funny, because you seem to be doing my job right now."
"Well now, I wouldn't have to do your job if you were capable of showing up on time."
"I am only," you scowl, lifting your wrist to glance at your watch. "Four minutes late."
"You're right," he waves his hand dismissively. "It's fine to waste people's time if it's only four minutes."
The two undergrads sitting between the both of you look visibly uncomfortable. There's a lot of things you wish to say right now, none of them polite — but since you have an audience, you refrain.
"Well, since you clearly don't need me here, I'll just go home then," you tell Wonwoo with a huff. "Have fun running my office hours."
You storm off before he can say anything else, letting the door slam shut behind you.
You're fuming all the way home. Normally, you are very patient with others, even when it comes to jerks with less than savory personalities — but something about Wonwoo grinds your gears like nothing else. The problem is that he knows he can get under your skin with bare minimum effort, and, for whatever fucking reason, he takes every opportunity he can to weaponize this against you.
With your unanticipated bit of free time, you decide to channel your rage into productivity, working on your thesis for the remainder of the afternoon. Thankfully, it works, and by dinnertime you've forgotten all about your annoying coworker.
The next day is off to a great start. You got up early, giving yourself plenty of time to stop by the campus cafe and grab a bagel and coffee. You sip the hot beverage as you walk to the Literature Hall for your 10am discussion, strolling along with an extra bit of pep in your step as you enjoy the peaceful, pleasant morning. Everything is going great — until you step into the classroom and see Wonwoo sitting at one of the desks in the back, stretched out casually like he fucking lives here.
"Oh, what are you doing here today Wonwoo?" you ask with a faux grin, playing dumb. There's already a handful of students in the room, so despite the fact that you're suddenly seeing red you are forced to be civil.
"Oh, just had some free time this morning," he answers blithely. "Thought I'd pop in and join the discussion."
"You sure seem to have a lot of free time for someone in grad school," you remark.
Wonwoo shrugs arrogantly. "What can I say, I'm efficient at managing my time."
You would love to walk back there and slap that dumb look off his dumb face. Instead you decide to ignore him for the remainder of the hour — a task that proves to be unfeasible, due to his constant self-insertion into the conversation. Unfortunately, he is extremely smart and articulate, so the students eagerly engage with his bullshit.
It's the fucking Great Gatsby, you think to yourself. Does he really have nothing better to do than flex his knowledge on a boring, easy book to a bunch of clueless freshmen??
The remainder of hour passes at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you wish to bang your head against the wall about it. At five-til Wonwoo decides to bring up a completely new topic, seemingly trying to get this session to drag on forever, but you're not having any of it today.
"Very interesting points you bring up there, Wonwoo," you loudly interrupt him. "But class is over now. Next week we will discuss the remaining chapters, so be sure to finish reading the book before then."
The students begin to shuffle out, and Wonwoo is quick to make his exit.
"Oh, Wonwoo, I had a question for you," you call out to him before he can make it out of the room, but he doesn't stop.
"Sorry, gotta run," he replies smugly. "Feel free to shoot me an email if you want to talk!" With a wave he zips out the door and disappears.
Needless to say, you did not shoot him an email; but by late-afternoon, much to your chagrin, he is in your inbox anyway.
Dear y/n,
You had a question for me earlier, however I noticed that you hadn't reached out to me about it yet, so I figured I'd contact you since you clearly forgot. What can I help you with?
Best,
WJ
"Pretentious little fucking prick," you grumble to yourself. You delete the email and shut your laptop.
After a lovely, Wonwoo-free weekend, you have the misfortune of starting off your week with him in your weekly TA/professor check-in first thing Monday morning. Of course, despite you getting there ten minutes early, Wonwoo is already in Professor Sosa's office, balls deep in some bullshit conversation about whatever bullshit book he's been reading recently. You sit down in the remaining chair, without a word, waiting for them to be done so you can get this painful meeting over with — but to your dismay, neither one of them seem to be in any rush. You peek at your watch a couple times, trying not to appear as annoyed as you currently are. Wonwoo definitely notices, though.
"I could talk about Wallace's use of the unreliable narrator for days," he grins, turning to you. "But I don't want to bore y/n any further. Shall we get started on the midterm?"
You take a deep breath as the professor begins to discuss the essay topics. You're going to try your hardest not to let him get on your nerves this early in the day — a task that's already proving itself to be a challenge. The next thirty minutes drag on at the slowest imaginable pace; you do your best to focus on the work at hand, but of course Wonwoo keeps going off on ostentatious tangents, and purposefully dragging you into the conversations no less. When the meeting finally ends, you're ready to book it out of there; you reach for your notebook sitting on the table beside you, but despite you just sitting it down a few moments ago it's not there. You look around, but you don't see it on the floor anywhere. Maybe you put it away already — but a peek into your backpack comes up empty-handed.
You notice Wonwoo watching you, wearing his usual arrogant expression, but you ignore him. The moment the professor leaves, he leans over to you.
"Looking for this?" he asks smugly, holding your missing notebook out to you. You go to grab it, but he quickly pulls it back out of reach.
"Seriously?" you ask, not bothering to hide your exasperation.
"What's the rush?" he taunts. "I know you don't have anywhere to be until 2."
"And how would you know that?" you narrow your eyes at him.
"I memorized your schedule."
You stare back at him, looking genuinely confused. "Why??"
He shrugs. "Figured it'd be good to know."
You'd love to know exactly what he means by that, but you don't want to make this conversation any longer than necessary.
"Well isn't that just wonderful," you say as sarcastically as possible, rising to your feet; Wonwoo follows suit. "Now will you give me my notebook back?"
You reach for it again, but he lifts it above his head — well out of your reach.
"What the actual fuck is your problem?!" you raise your voice. He looks surprised, but a cocky grin spreads across his face.
"It's okay, y/n, I'm just messing with you."
"Well, don't!!"
You glare at him, but he still wears that dumb, satisfied smirk.
"You don't have to act like you hate me, you know."
"It's not acting."
"Of course it's not," he smiles, unbothered. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."
"Okay," you sigh exasperatedly. "What do you want to ask me, Wonwoo?"
"What's your favorite restaurant?"
"What??"
"Your favorite restaurant," he repeats. "I'd like to take you out to dinner."
You stand there aghast. "You're not serious," you say to him.
"I am."
"What on earth makes you think I want to go on a date with you?!"
"It doesn't have to be a date," he responds. "We can go as friends."
"We are not friends," you reply coldly, snatching your notebook out of his hands and shoving it into your backpack before he can stop you.
"See you in class tomorrow!" he calls out warmly as you storm out of the room, clearly not affected by anything you said.
You want to tell him to go fuck himself, but you hold your tongue, instead letting the door slam behind you as you exit the office without another word.
The next day you show up to class right on time, and not a moment sooner. You figured if you got there right as the lecture begins, Wonwoo wouldn't be able to talk to you — and thankfully, you were right. He's sitting two chairs down, and you feel his eyes on you the whole hour, but you do not turn to look at him even once. When the lesson finally concludes, you book it out of there, but apparently that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.
"Y/n!" he calls out as he hurries after you. You keep walking, pretending not to hear him, but he catches up to you quickly.
"Hey, I was wondering if you—"
"The answer is no," you cut him off.
"You don't even know what I was going to ask," he smiles at you.
"Whatever it is, I'm not interested."
"Alright, guess I'll find someone else who's interested in first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie on Saturday."
You stop in your tracks, your head snapping over to him.
"You do not have first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie," you call him out. "That show has been sold out for weeks."
"I have connections."
"Right. Do you even like Death Cab?" you ask doubtfully.
"I don't know, I've never heard any of their songs," he answers matter-of-factly. "But I know they're your favorite band."
"And why do you know that??"
He shrugs. "I pay attention."
"So let me get this straight. You bought concert tickets to my favorite band in hopes that I'd go on a date with you?"
"It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want," he replies. "We can go as friends."
"I already told you," you glare at him, lowering your voice so none of the students passing by can hear you bickering. "We are not friends."
"But we can be," he smiles softly. "Just give me one chance. We have more in common than you think, y/n."
You roll your eyes. "I'm not having this conversation with you," you tell him, walking away.
"Think about it," he calls out as you head off down the hall.
"I won't" you grumble quietly under your breath.
Unfortunately you're not able to get Wonwoo and his concert tickets off your mind. You even end up ranting to your roommate about it, but to your dismay she thinks you should accept the offer.
"Are you crazy?!" Sana asks. "You're not seriously going to pass up free concert tickets to your favorite band just because you don't want to go on a date?"
"It's not even a date," you complain. "He just wants to go as friends."
"Okay, even better! What's the issue then?"
"The issue," you answer, "is that he's the most pretentious, insufferable douchebag to ever walk the face of the earth."
"He can't possibly be that bad."
You roll your eyes. "You'd be surprised."
"Come on, y/n," she insists. "You can literally take advantage of him! Just go to the concert and then never talk to him outside of class again. You know you'll regret it if you don't."
You grimace, because she's right. It's not even just concert tickets — it's front row concert tickets, for free. You'd be a fool not to accept the offer. But you can't help that spending an entire evening with Wonwoo genuinely sounds like your own personal hell.
"I'll think about it," you reply to Sana with a deep sigh.
You do think about it — far too much, perhaps. By Thursday, despite hating yourself a bit for it, you come to the conclusion that when he asks again you will accept. So you wait for him to inevitably send you an email, or show up unannounced at your office hours, but you don't see or hear from him once. Strange, considering how much he usually goes out of his way to bother you, but honestly you're enjoying the peace while it lasts. You've all but given up on the concert when finally, late in the Friday afternoon, you get an email from Wonwoo.
Dear y/n,
I assume you've changed your mind about the concert by now, so I will plan to pick you up at 5pm tomorrow — that way we can go to dinner before the show. Please let me know your favorite restaurant so I can make a reservation accordingly.
Best,
WJ
With a sigh, you type up your reply.
Hello Wonwoo,
I like Thai food — you take your pick of restaurant. See you tomorrow.
—y/n
It pains you to hit send, but you do anyway. You're getting a free dinner and concert out of this, you remind yourself. You can suck it up and deal with Wonwoo for one night.
And you know it's true. You've dealt with bigger bullshit before than spending a few hours with one annoying man — besides, like Sana said, how bad could it possibly be? Still, you can't shake the anxious feeling that he has some ulterior motive here. Maybe he's just doing this to fuck with you, maybe he's going to do everything he can to make your night as miserable as possible. But maybe he's not. You can't fathom that he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart — if anything, he's probably just trying to get into your pants. But, you suppose there's only one way to find out.
True to his word, Wonwoo showed up to your apartment at 5pm on the dot to pick you up. You were lowkey regretting agreeing to go to dinner with him — at least at the concert you won't have to engage in actual conversation, but an hour or so spent one-on-one with him, making small talk? What were you thinking?? But it was too late to back out, so here you are, sitting across the dinner table from your mortal enemy at a Thai place on the other side of town that you've never even heard of before.
"How did you even find this place?" you ask him as you peruse the menu. "This is so far from campus."
"I'm attempting to try every restaurant in town," he answers casually, not looking up from his menu. "It's something of a hobby of mine."
"Oh, really?" you reply. Wonwoo glances up at you, a peek of a grin poking at his lips.
"You sound surprised."
"I guess I just didn't know that about you," you shrug.
"What did you think I do for fun, then?"
"I… Well, I don't know," you answer truthfully. "I guess I never thought about that before."
"So you assumed I sit in my house all day reading books," he jests.
"I didn't say that!" you protest.
"I know, y/n, I'm just teasing you," he smiles. He nudges his head toward your menu. "What are you thinking of getting?"
"I'm debating between the pad see eiw and the green curry," you answer, still staring at the page.
"The curry is really good," he tells you. "It's got the perfect amount of spice, if you like spicy."
"I do," you nod, setting your menu down too. "What are you getting?"
"I'm going with the khao moo deng."
"Oh my god, like the hippo!"
"What?" he asks, raising his brow at you.
"You know, Moo Deng! The baby hippo who went viral," you explain. "She's from Thailand — they named her after the dish."
"Oh, I don't use social media," he replies plainly.
"Now that doesn't surprise me."
Wonwoo grins. "What are you implying? That I'm uncool and out of touch?"
"I mean yeah, pretty much," you admit.
"I can live with that," he chuckles.
You order, slightly worried about the quality of the food considering that there is only one other occupied table in the whole restaurant; but as soon as the server sets the aromatic dish in front of you, your mouth starts watering. The curry is incredible — some of the best you've ever had, even. You hate to admit it, but Wonwoo did manage to pick a great restaurant. By the time you finish eating, you realize you've been yapping nonstop the whole time. A bit annoying, considering that you more or less hate his guts, but you're just glad the evening hasn't turned out to be a complete disaster yet.
Despite your protests, Wonwoo pays for your dinner, and it is time to head to the concert. Stupidly, you have butterflies in your stomach the whole way there, but you chalk it up to your sheer excitement over finally seeing your favorite band for the very first time. Making your way into the theater, you walk with Wonwoo all the way to the front of the auditorium, suddenly becoming very self-conscious about possibly being perceived with him of all people. But, you don't want to think about that right now, so you just hope and pray no one you know is here.
"Holy shit," you remark as you take your seats. "I've never been this close at a concert before."
"Me neither," Wonwoo replies. "Though, I suppose I've never been to any concert before."
"Wait," you say, turning to look at him. "Are you serious?"
He turns to face you, making you realize that the two of you are currently very uncomfortably close to each other.
"Yes," he answers. "Though, I suppose I did see the New York Philharmonic while I was visiting NYC a few years ago."
"I mean, sure, but that's not a concert concert."
He grins at you. "What would you consider a concert concert, then?"
"You know, like a band that's on tour. That you would buy albums of."
"Well, I suppose most of the artists I listen to aren't touring so much these days."
"Yeah I think Beethoven's a little dead at this point."
Wonwoo laughs. "I meant more so that I listen to a lot of classic rock from the 60s and 70s," he explains. "So you're not entirely wrong about them being dead."
"I didn't know you were into the classics," you respond, surprised to find out that you have that in common. "I grew up listening to that era of music too."
"You never asked," he shrugs.
The lights in the theater dim, and the crowd begins to cheer as the shadowy figures of the band take to the stage in the dark. As the first song begins, you suddenly feel overwhelmed — you're not much of a concert person usually, but hearing the music you've been listening to since you were young live and in person is making you feel inexplicably emotional. You quickly blink the tears from your eyes, and the sensation soon dissipates, returning you to the music and the atmosphere of fans singing along to all the lyrics. The show is so incredible that for the remainder of the night you barely even recall who it is you came here with in the first place. You're having too much fun to notice, but Wonwoo's eyes keep flickering over to you, a soft look of affection etched onto his face.
The concert-goers flood out of the theater in droves, chattering and laughing as everyone is still riding the rush of adrenaline from the show. You and Wonwoo make your way across the parking lot, the chill of the night air refreshing as it tingles against your cheeks.
"So, how was it?" Wonwoo asks as you walk in the general direction of his car. Free of the joyful environment of the concert, you remember now how much he has always annoyed you. But, much to your surprise, the annoyance you typically feel around him is not present, nor is the smug attitude that usually colors his voice.
"That was amazing," you admit, smiling blissfully. "I still can't believe I actually got to experience my favorite band live."
"Good," he smiles at you. You approach his car, Wonwoo brushing past you to open the passenger side door for you. You give him a confused look, but you just thank him and let yourself into the car. Once you're in he shuts the door, and you watch him as he walks around to the driver's side. You don't particularly want to inflate his ego any further, but you know you have to genuinely thank him for the whole experience.
He gets in the car, turning the keys in the ignition, the engine coming to life.
"Thank you for the ticket, Wonwoo," your voice comes out softly as he reaches for the gear shift. His hand pauses atop it, looking over to meet your gaze. You were standing next to him all night, but the distance between the two of you suddenly feels extremely close; yet, it's not uncomfortable.
"You're welcome, y/n," he smiles at you.
"I have to ask, though," you continue. "Why did you do it?"
He cocks his head at you slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" you start hesitantly. You don't want to be too blunt, but you also don't feel the need to beat around the bush.
"I mean, why buy me concert tickets when I've made it very clear I don't even like you?"
Wonwoo grins slightly. "Why do you think?"
"Honestly?" you reply. "Probably to get in my pants, I don't fucking know."
"Well, that's certainly not something I'd be opposed to," he chuckles. "But that's not why."
"Okay," you concede. "Why, then?"
He gazes back at you with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter anxiously.
"Because I knew it would make you happy," he answers. "And I want you to be happy whether you like me or not."
You feel your stomach drop, your face suddenly burning hot. That was not the answer you were expecting, and you quite frankly don't know how to respond.
"I—" you stammer quietly. "I… Sorry, I don't know what to say to that," you admit, trying to hide your embarrassed face behind your hand.
"You don't have to say anything," he tells you gently, shifting the car into reverse and pulling out of the spot. You sit there silently as he waits in the slow-moving line to exit the parking lot, wishing you could disappear. You're considering hopping out of the car and finding another ride home, but the line finally starts moving. As Wonwoo heads toward the exit, he turns to look at you.
"Can we take a brief detour on the way home?" he asks casually. "I want to show you something."
"Sure," you answer after a few seconds of silence. Wonwoo nods, switching the turn signal from right to left, pulling out into the street and driving off in the opposite direction of home. He drives for a few minutes in seemingly the wrong direction away from anything, and you're starting to wonder if you should be worried.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see in just a minute," he replies nonchalantly.
"Is this when I find out you're actually a serial killer?" you joke. Wonwoo laughs.
"No, definitely not a serial killer, I promise."
"Ooookay," you say, still unsure.
True to his word, in about another minute or so he turns onto a dirt road you didn't even see from the main road. He drives slowly as the road turns into an incline, clearly going up a steep hill.
"Sorry," he says, having noticed that you look a bit nervous. "This part of the road is a bit nerveracking, but we're almost there," he assures you.
The surrounding trees soon begin to become more sparse, eventually opening up to what looks to you like a small clearing at the top of the hill. A big metal guard rail wraps around the area; as Wonwoo pulls up to it to park the car, you gasp. Beyond the guard rail is an incredible view of the whole town, the orange glow of the streetlights and houselights making it look so warm and picturesque that it seems like a scene straight out of a movie.
"Holy shit," you say softly, awestruck by the unreal sight. Wonwoo grins, then hops out of the car. You follow suit and join him by the railing, taking in the stunning view.
"I had no idea there was anything like this around here," you say softly.
"Isn't it beautiful?" he asks. Your eyes flicker over to him, finding his gaze fixated on you.
"How did you find this?" you ask, the same rush of heat as earlier returning to your cheeks.
"My roommate last year told me about it — he grew up around here, apparently it was a popular place for high schoolers to take their dates."
"So you've brought me to a make-out point," you reply, raising your brow at him.
"I suppose so," he chuckles. "But genuinely, I just wanted to show you the view."
"So you don't want to make out with me then."
Wonwoo smiles, his eyes still locked onto yours. You feel a wave of heat overtaking you again, this time burning achingly in your core. If this had happened yesterday, you would be peeved; but the usual feeling of displeasure you feel in his presence is nowhere to be found.
"I don't want to do anything you don't want to do," he answers plainly.
"And what if I do want it?"
The words feel foreign on your tongue, your voice so soft you almost didn't recognize it as yours. But you said it, and for reasons you cannot explain, you meant it.
Wonwoo takes a small step toward you. "Want what?" he asks, the cheekiness in his words not going unnoticed.
"Want you to kiss me," you say, taking a small step toward him. Your mouths are mere inches apart, and Wonwoo's eyes definitely keep flickering down to your lips.
"You do?" he asks, a grin overtaking his face.
"Yeah," you answer, the words coming out in barely more than a whisper. "I do."
Wonwoo smiles, then the next thing you know his lips are crashing into yours. The kiss starts out soft, sweet — his mouth presses against yours delicately, savoring your taste for the first time, his fingers brushing lithely over your jaw, sending a rush of electricity coursing through your body as you accept the kiss. His hands slowly drift to your sides, slipping into your open coat and resting upon your hips. Before you can even think twice you're leaning into him, the warmth of his torso instantly blocking the chill of the late autumnal air. He kisses you slowly at first, but that doesn't last long — not with you being tangled up in each other's grasp. His lips start tugging at yours with sudden urgency, and you eagerly reciprocate. The ridiculousness of you making out with the coworker you up until tonight absolutely could not stand is not lost on you, but right now you could not care less.
His lips depart yours far too soon, his hands maintaining their grip on your waist as you stare up into his eyes. You've never seen Wonwoo from this close up — why would you have? But you don't recall his eyes ever being so soft and warm as they are gazing back at you through his lenses right now. A chill overtakes you, and you shiver slightly as the wind cuts through your layers.
"C'mere," he tells you, taking hold of your hand and starting to pull you back toward his car. "It'll be warmer in here."
He opens the door to the backseat, gesturing for you to enter first; you slide across the soft leather to the other side, allowing him room to climb in after you, but as soon as he's inside with the door closed he grabs you again, taking hold of your arms and dragging you into his embrace. Without the wind now, inside the car quickly becomes a bit too toasty. Wonwoo hastily removes your coat, tossing it into the front seat and following suit with his own jacket. He pulls you over onto him, your thigh swinging over his legs as you sit straddled across his lap, your arms draped over the top of the backseat as you lean in to kiss him again. This time his tongue swipes at your lips; you part them, allowing him entrance, your tongues now dancing against each other with fervent need. His hands slip beneath the hem of your sweater, running up your stomach and resting atop the cups of your bra. You break the kiss momentarily, the corners of your lips twisting into a sly smile.
"Go on," you say to him, nudging your head toward your sweater. "Take it off."
He grins back at you, the red glow of his cheeks apparent even in the dim lighting. Grabbing the hem he lifts the garment over your head and practically flings it onto the seat next to him. Shirtless now, he stares at your cleavage before him, his hands grasping at the soft flesh through your bra.
"I've thought about this exact scenario a thousand times," he mutters, licking his lips. "But god, it's even better than I imagined."
He peers up at you again, staring at you hungrily for the briefest of seconds before he suddenly reaches for his glasses, ripping them off his face and tossing them onto the seat with your sweater before diving back into your lips. He kisses you as his hands wander to your lower back, and your grind your hips against him — an involuntary action, but it causes your clit to press into the stiff bulge forming in his trousers. You let out a soft sigh at the sensation, exhaling against his lips as he holds you tight in his arms. Eventually his fingers return to your boobs, grazing gently over your cleavage, sending a delicious chill up your spine.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to—" he starts breathily, but you shake your head immediately.
"I want to," you tell him softly, and a mischievous grin flickers at his lips. "What?" you laugh.
"Nothing, just remembering how much you hated my guts a few days ago and here we are now," he replies cheekily, squeezing lightly at your boobs.
"I didn't 'hate your guts'," you refute as you roll your eyes. "I just found you annoying and insufferable."
"Oh, is that all?" he smirks.
"Shut up," you mumble, leaning your forehead against his as you hover your lips right above his mouth. "Do you wanna kiss me or not?"
"I do, very much so," he smiles, lightly dragging his bottom lip across yours. His hands slide to your hips, pressing your core into his erection again as he grinds you against his lap.
"Fuck," you gasp, followed by an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry, I just… it's been a little while," you admit.
"Don't apologize," he says, kissing down your down your chin, nudging his face into your neck as he places a delicate string of kisses onto the tender skin. The sensation makes you melt, sinking your clothed cunt further into his bulge. "We can take this as slow as you want."
"Who said I want to go slow?"
He lifts his head, meeting your eyes again, finding them eager and needy.
"God, you're gonna drive me crazy if you keep saying stuff like that," he says with a lazy smirk.
"Good," you reply with a grin, muttering into his lips. "Then we'll be even."
"Is that so?" he mumbles back. "Guess I'll just have to try harder to get on your nerves now."
"Oh god, please don't."
Wonwoo lets out a laugh — the sound warm and hearty.
"So, do we have a truce then?" he inquires.
"I suppose so," you answer. "Who knew all it would take for you to leave me alone is for me to fuck you?"
He grins. "A bit toxic of us, don't you think?"
"Probably," you reply with a shrug, dragging your hand down his torso, reaching for his belt and tugging at the buckle, making his eyes widen excitedly.
Being shy as an adult is so humiliating like grow the fuck up snap out of it bitch!! it's just people!! HOWEVER this only applies to me though and it doesnt bother me when other people are shy because they deserve to breathe and i dont
u guys ever realize ur good friends @sailorsoons and @seungkw1 have the same special interest and put on a ocean documentary for them while u eat dinner cuz me too
PAIRING: TA!wonwoo x TA!reader
GENRE: college au, e2l, smut/suggestive [18+ MDNI]
WC: 5,699
WARNINGS: kissing sloppy style, semi-public sex but like barely, light breast play, dry humping, they're a lil toxic but it's fine, fade-to-black sex
A/N: requested by @minisugakoobies for my milestone event!! sorry i made him so annoying in this asfkhasjfdf but i hope you like it ♡ (not beta'd)
SUMMARY: Your TA job would be perfectly fine and well if it weren't for your pretentious, nearly-insufferable coworker. Wonwoo seems to have made it his life mission to do everything in his power to irritate you, which is why you're blindsided when he asks you on a date completely out of the blue one day.
Every single thing Wonwoo Jeon does pisses you off.
It's bad enough having a co-TA that's pretentious as fuck. You studied English in undergrad, and every single male English major you ever met was a big-headed know-it-all, so you're (unfortunately) used to the type. But on top of being full of himself, Wonwoo has apparently made it his life's mission to do everything in his power to one-up you in every regard. No matter how early you show up to anything, he is somehow always already there; no matter how fast you grade papers, he's always finished well before you; no matter what the discussion subject is, he always has to repeat everything you say in a way that sounds smarter than the way you said it. There are seven trillion nerves in the human body, and he manages to get on every single one of them.
So when you walk into your own office hours one day to see him sitting at your desk, talking to your students, it takes everything in you not to snap.
"Wow, I wasn't expecting to see you at my office hours!" you say with a forced grin, your words dripping with sarcasm.
"Y/n, how lovely of you to show up," he smiles smugly at you. "I thought I'd use my free time to actually help out our students."
"Well aren't you a saint."
"Just doing my job."
"That's funny, because you seem to be doing my job right now."
"Well now, I wouldn't have to do your job if you were capable of showing up on time."
"I am only," you scowl, lifting your wrist to glance at your watch. "Four minutes late."
"You're right," he waves his hand dismissively. "It's fine to waste people's time if it's only four minutes."
The two undergrads sitting between the both of you look visibly uncomfortable. There's a lot of things you wish to say right now, none of them polite — but since you have an audience, you refrain.
"Well, since you clearly don't need me here, I'll just go home then," you tell Wonwoo with a huff. "Have fun running my office hours."
You storm off before he can say anything else, letting the door slam shut behind you.
You're fuming all the way home. Normally, you are very patient with others, even when it comes to jerks with less than savory personalities — but something about Wonwoo grinds your gears like nothing else. The problem is that he knows he can get under your skin with bare minimum effort, and, for whatever fucking reason, he takes every opportunity he can to weaponize this against you.
With your unanticipated bit of free time, you decide to channel your rage into productivity, working on your thesis for the remainder of the afternoon. Thankfully, it works, and by dinnertime you've forgotten all about your annoying coworker.
The next day is off to a great start. You got up early, giving yourself plenty of time to stop by the campus cafe and grab a bagel and coffee. You sip the hot beverage as you walk to the Literature Hall for your 10am discussion, strolling along with an extra bit of pep in your step as you enjoy the peaceful, pleasant morning. Everything is going great — until you step into the classroom and see Wonwoo sitting at one of the desks in the back, stretched out casually like he fucking lives here.
"Oh, what are you doing here today Wonwoo?" you ask with a faux grin, playing dumb. There's already a handful of students in the room, so despite the fact that you're suddenly seeing red you are forced to be civil.
"Oh, just had some free time this morning," he answers blithely. "Thought I'd pop in and join the discussion."
"You sure seem to have a lot of free time for someone in grad school," you remark.
Wonwoo shrugs arrogantly. "What can I say, I'm efficient at managing my time."
You would love to walk back there and slap that dumb look off his dumb face. Instead you decide to ignore him for the remainder of the hour — a task that proves to be unfeasible, due to his constant self-insertion into the conversation. Unfortunately, he is extremely smart and articulate, so the students eagerly engage with his bullshit.
It's the fucking Great Gatsby, you think to yourself. Does he really have nothing better to do than flex his knowledge on a boring, easy book to a bunch of clueless freshmen??
The remainder of hour passes at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you wish to bang your head against the wall about it. At five-til Wonwoo decides to bring up a completely new topic, seemingly trying to get this session to drag on forever, but you're not having any of it today.
"Very interesting points you bring up there, Wonwoo," you loudly interrupt him. "But class is over now. Next week we will discuss the remaining chapters, so be sure to finish reading the book before then."
The students begin to shuffle out, and Wonwoo is quick to make his exit.
"Oh, Wonwoo, I had a question for you," you call out to him before he can make it out of the room, but he doesn't stop.
"Sorry, gotta run," he replies smugly. "Feel free to shoot me an email if you want to talk!" With a wave he zips out the door and disappears.
Needless to say, you did not shoot him an email; but by late-afternoon, much to your chagrin, he is in your inbox anyway.
Dear y/n,
You had a question for me earlier, however I noticed that you hadn't reached out to me about it yet, so I figured I'd contact you since you clearly forgot. What can I help you with?
Best,
WJ
"Pretentious little fucking prick," you grumble to yourself. You delete the email and shut your laptop.
After a lovely, Wonwoo-free weekend, you have the misfortune of starting off your week with him in your weekly TA/professor check-in first thing Monday morning. Of course, despite you getting there ten minutes early, Wonwoo is already in Professor Sosa's office, balls deep in some bullshit conversation about whatever bullshit book he's been reading recently. You sit down in the remaining chair, without a word, waiting for them to be done so you can get this painful meeting over with — but to your dismay, neither one of them seem to be in any rush. You peek at your watch a couple times, trying not to appear as annoyed as you currently are. Wonwoo definitely notices, though.
"I could talk about Wallace's use of the unreliable narrator for days," he grins, turning to you. "But I don't want to bore y/n any further. Shall we get started on the midterm?"
You take a deep breath as the professor begins to discuss the essay topics. You're going to try your hardest not to let him get on your nerves this early in the day — a task that's already proving itself to be a challenge. The next thirty minutes drag on at the slowest imaginable pace; you do your best to focus on the work at hand, but of course Wonwoo keeps going off on ostentatious tangents, and purposefully dragging you into the conversations no less. When the meeting finally ends, you're ready to book it out of there; you reach for your notebook sitting on the table beside you, but despite you just sitting it down a few moments ago it's not there. You look around, but you don't see it on the floor anywhere. Maybe you put it away already — but a peek into your backpack comes up empty-handed.
You notice Wonwoo watching you, wearing his usual arrogant expression, but you ignore him. The moment the professor leaves, he leans over to you.
"Looking for this?" he asks smugly, holding your missing notebook out to you. You go to grab it, but he quickly pulls it back out of reach.
"Seriously?" you ask, not bothering to hide your exasperation.
"What's the rush?" he taunts. "I know you don't have anywhere to be until 2."
"And how would you know that?" you narrow your eyes at him.
"I memorized your schedule."
You stare back at him, looking genuinely confused. "Why??"
He shrugs. "Figured it'd be good to know."
You'd love to know exactly what he means by that, but you don't want to make this conversation any longer than necessary.
"Well isn't that just wonderful," you say as sarcastically as possible, rising to your feet; Wonwoo follows suit. "Now will you give me my notebook back?"
You reach for it again, but he lifts it above his head — well out of your reach.
"What the actual fuck is your problem?!" you raise your voice. He looks surprised, but a cocky grin spreads across his face.
"It's okay, y/n, I'm just messing with you."
"Well, don't!!"
You glare at him, but he still wears that dumb, satisfied smirk.
"You don't have to act like you hate me, you know."
"It's not acting."
"Of course it's not," he smiles, unbothered. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something."
"Okay," you sigh exasperatedly. "What do you want to ask me, Wonwoo?"
"What's your favorite restaurant?"
"What??"
"Your favorite restaurant," he repeats. "I'd like to take you out to dinner."
You stand there aghast. "You're not serious," you say to him.
"I am."
"What on earth makes you think I want to go on a date with you?!"
"It doesn't have to be a date," he responds. "We can go as friends."
"We are not friends," you reply coldly, snatching your notebook out of his hands and shoving it into your backpack before he can stop you.
"See you in class tomorrow!" he calls out warmly as you storm out of the room, clearly not affected by anything you said.
You want to tell him to go fuck himself, but you hold your tongue, instead letting the door slam behind you as you exit the office without another word.
The next day you show up to class right on time, and not a moment sooner. You figured if you got there right as the lecture begins, Wonwoo wouldn't be able to talk to you — and thankfully, you were right. He's sitting two chairs down, and you feel his eyes on you the whole hour, but you do not turn to look at him even once. When the lesson finally concludes, you book it out of there, but apparently that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.
"Y/n!" he calls out as he hurries after you. You keep walking, pretending not to hear him, but he catches up to you quickly.
"Hey, I was wondering if you—"
"The answer is no," you cut him off.
"You don't even know what I was going to ask," he smiles at you.
"Whatever it is, I'm not interested."
"Alright, guess I'll find someone else who's interested in first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie on Saturday."
You stop in your tracks, your head snapping over to him.
"You do not have first row tickets to Death Cab for Cutie," you call him out. "That show has been sold out for weeks."
"I have connections."
"Right. Do you even like Death Cab?" you ask doubtfully.
"I don't know, I've never heard any of their songs," he answers matter-of-factly. "But I know they're your favorite band."
"And why do you know that??"
He shrugs. "I pay attention."
"So let me get this straight. You bought concert tickets to my favorite band in hopes that I'd go on a date with you?"
"It doesn't have to be a date if you don't want," he replies. "We can go as friends."
"I already told you," you glare at him, lowering your voice so none of the students passing by can hear you bickering. "We are not friends."
"But we can be," he smiles softly. "Just give me one chance. We have more in common than you think, y/n."
You roll your eyes. "I'm not having this conversation with you," you tell him, walking away.
"Think about it," he calls out as you head off down the hall.
"I won't" you grumble quietly under your breath.
Unfortunately you're not able to get Wonwoo and his concert tickets off your mind. You even end up ranting to your roommate about it, but to your dismay she thinks you should accept the offer.
"Are you crazy?!" Sana asks. "You're not seriously going to pass up free concert tickets to your favorite band just because you don't want to go on a date?"
"It's not even a date," you complain. "He just wants to go as friends."
"Okay, even better! What's the issue then?"
"The issue," you answer, "is that he's the most pretentious, insufferable douchebag to ever walk the face of the earth."
"He can't possibly be that bad."
You roll your eyes. "You'd be surprised."
"Come on, y/n," she insists. "You can literally take advantage of him! Just go to the concert and then never talk to him outside of class again. You know you'll regret it if you don't."
You grimace, because she's right. It's not even just concert tickets — it's front row concert tickets, for free. You'd be a fool not to accept the offer. But you can't help that spending an entire evening with Wonwoo genuinely sounds like your own personal hell.
"I'll think about it," you reply to Sana with a deep sigh.
You do think about it — far too much, perhaps. By Thursday, despite hating yourself a bit for it, you come to the conclusion that when he asks again you will accept. So you wait for him to inevitably send you an email, or show up unannounced at your office hours, but you don't see or hear from him once. Strange, considering how much he usually goes out of his way to bother you, but honestly you're enjoying the peace while it lasts. You've all but given up on the concert when finally, late in the Friday afternoon, you get an email from Wonwoo.
Dear y/n,
I assume you've changed your mind about the concert by now, so I will plan to pick you up at 5pm tomorrow — that way we can go to dinner before the show. Please let me know your favorite restaurant so I can make a reservation accordingly.
Best,
WJ
With a sigh, you type up your reply.
Hello Wonwoo,
I like Thai food — you take your pick of restaurant. See you tomorrow.
—y/n
It pains you to hit send, but you do anyway. You're getting a free dinner and concert out of this, you remind yourself. You can suck it up and deal with Wonwoo for one night.
And you know it's true. You've dealt with bigger bullshit before than spending a few hours with one annoying man — besides, like Sana said, how bad could it possibly be? Still, you can't shake the anxious feeling that he has some ulterior motive here. Maybe he's just doing this to fuck with you, maybe he's going to do everything he can to make your night as miserable as possible. But maybe he's not. You can't fathom that he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart — if anything, he's probably just trying to get into your pants. But, you suppose there's only one way to find out.
True to his word, Wonwoo showed up to your apartment at 5pm on the dot to pick you up. You were lowkey regretting agreeing to go to dinner with him — at least at the concert you won't have to engage in actual conversation, but an hour or so spent one-on-one with him, making small talk? What were you thinking?? But it was too late to back out, so here you are, sitting across the dinner table from your mortal enemy at a Thai place on the other side of town that you've never even heard of before.
"How did you even find this place?" you ask him as you peruse the menu. "This is so far from campus."
"I'm attempting to try every restaurant in town," he answers casually, not looking up from his menu. "It's something of a hobby of mine."
"Oh, really?" you reply. Wonwoo glances up at you, a peek of a grin poking at his lips.
"You sound surprised."
"I guess I just didn't know that about you," you shrug.
"What did you think I do for fun, then?"
"I… Well, I don't know," you answer truthfully. "I guess I never thought about that before."
"So you assumed I sit in my house all day reading books," he jests.
"I didn't say that!" you protest.
"I know, y/n, I'm just teasing you," he smiles. He nudges his head toward your menu. "What are you thinking of getting?"
"I'm debating between the pad see eiw and the green curry," you answer, still staring at the page.
"The curry is really good," he tells you. "It's got the perfect amount of spice, if you like spicy."
"I do," you nod, setting your menu down too. "What are you getting?"
"I'm going with the khao moo deng."
"Oh my god, like the hippo!"
"What?" he asks, raising his brow at you.
"You know, Moo Deng! The baby hippo who went viral," you explain. "She's from Thailand — they named her after the dish."
"Oh, I don't use social media," he replies plainly.
"Now that doesn't surprise me."
Wonwoo grins. "What are you implying? That I'm uncool and out of touch?"
"I mean yeah, pretty much," you admit.
"I can live with that," he chuckles.
You order, slightly worried about the quality of the food considering that there is only one other occupied table in the whole restaurant; but as soon as the server sets the aromatic dish in front of you, your mouth starts watering. The curry is incredible — some of the best you've ever had, even. You hate to admit it, but Wonwoo did manage to pick a great restaurant. By the time you finish eating, you realize you've been yapping nonstop the whole time. A bit annoying, considering that you more or less hate his guts, but you're just glad the evening hasn't turned out to be a complete disaster yet.
Despite your protests, Wonwoo pays for your dinner, and it is time to head to the concert. Stupidly, you have butterflies in your stomach the whole way there, but you chalk it up to your sheer excitement over finally seeing your favorite band for the very first time. Making your way into the theater, you walk with Wonwoo all the way to the front of the auditorium, suddenly becoming very self-conscious about possibly being perceived with him of all people. But, you don't want to think about that right now, so you just hope and pray no one you know is here.
"Holy shit," you remark as you take your seats. "I've never been this close at a concert before."
"Me neither," Wonwoo replies. "Though, I suppose I've never been to any concert before."
"Wait," you say, turning to look at him. "Are you serious?"
He turns to face you, making you realize that the two of you are currently very uncomfortably close to each other.
"Yes," he answers. "Though, I suppose I did see the New York Philharmonic while I was visiting NYC a few years ago."
"I mean, sure, but that's not a concert concert."
He grins at you. "What would you consider a concert concert, then?"
"You know, like a band that's on tour. That you would buy albums of."
"Well, I suppose most of the artists I listen to aren't touring so much these days."
"Yeah I think Beethoven's a little dead at this point."
Wonwoo laughs. "I meant more so that I listen to a lot of classic rock from the 60s and 70s," he explains. "So you're not entirely wrong about them being dead."
"I didn't know you were into the classics," you respond, surprised to find out that you have that in common. "I grew up listening to that era of music too."
"You never asked," he shrugs.
The lights in the theater dim, and the crowd begins to cheer as the shadowy figures of the band take to the stage in the dark. As the first song begins, you suddenly feel overwhelmed — you're not much of a concert person usually, but hearing the music you've been listening to since you were young live and in person is making you feel inexplicably emotional. You quickly blink the tears from your eyes, and the sensation soon dissipates, returning you to the music and the atmosphere of fans singing along to all the lyrics. The show is so incredible that for the remainder of the night you barely even recall who it is you came here with in the first place. You're having too much fun to notice, but Wonwoo's eyes keep flickering over to you, a soft look of affection etched onto his face.
The concert-goers flood out of the theater in droves, chattering and laughing as everyone is still riding the rush of adrenaline from the show. You and Wonwoo make your way across the parking lot, the chill of the night air refreshing as it tingles against your cheeks.
"So, how was it?" Wonwoo asks as you walk in the general direction of his car. Free of the joyful environment of the concert, you remember now how much he has always annoyed you. But, much to your surprise, the annoyance you typically feel around him is not present, nor is the smug attitude that usually colors his voice.
"That was amazing," you admit, smiling blissfully. "I still can't believe I actually got to experience my favorite band live."
"Good," he smiles at you. You approach his car, Wonwoo brushing past you to open the passenger side door for you. You give him a confused look, but you just thank him and let yourself into the car. Once you're in he shuts the door, and you watch him as he walks around to the driver's side. You don't particularly want to inflate his ego any further, but you know you have to genuinely thank him for the whole experience.
He gets in the car, turning the keys in the ignition, the engine coming to life.
"Thank you for the ticket, Wonwoo," your voice comes out softly as he reaches for the gear shift. His hand pauses atop it, looking over to meet your gaze. You were standing next to him all night, but the distance between the two of you suddenly feels extremely close; yet, it's not uncomfortable.
"You're welcome, y/n," he smiles at you.
"I have to ask, though," you continue. "Why did you do it?"
He cocks his head at you slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" you start hesitantly. You don't want to be too blunt, but you also don't feel the need to beat around the bush.
"I mean, why buy me concert tickets when I've made it very clear I don't even like you?"
Wonwoo grins slightly. "Why do you think?"
"Honestly?" you reply. "Probably to get in my pants, I don't fucking know."
"Well, that's certainly not something I'd be opposed to," he chuckles. "But that's not why."
"Okay," you concede. "Why, then?"
He gazes back at you with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter anxiously.
"Because I knew it would make you happy," he answers. "And I want you to be happy whether you like me or not."
You feel your stomach drop, your face suddenly burning hot. That was not the answer you were expecting, and you quite frankly don't know how to respond.
"I—" you stammer quietly. "I… Sorry, I don't know what to say to that," you admit, trying to hide your embarrassed face behind your hand.
"You don't have to say anything," he tells you gently, shifting the car into reverse and pulling out of the spot. You sit there silently as he waits in the slow-moving line to exit the parking lot, wishing you could disappear. You're considering hopping out of the car and finding another ride home, but the line finally starts moving. As Wonwoo heads toward the exit, he turns to look at you.
"Can we take a brief detour on the way home?" he asks casually. "I want to show you something."
"Sure," you answer after a few seconds of silence. Wonwoo nods, switching the turn signal from right to left, pulling out into the street and driving off in the opposite direction of home. He drives for a few minutes in seemingly the wrong direction away from anything, and you're starting to wonder if you should be worried.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see in just a minute," he replies nonchalantly.
"Is this when I find out you're actually a serial killer?" you joke. Wonwoo laughs.
"No, definitely not a serial killer, I promise."
"Ooookay," you say, still unsure.
True to his word, in about another minute or so he turns onto a dirt road you didn't even see from the main road. He drives slowly as the road turns into an incline, clearly going up a steep hill.
"Sorry," he says, having noticed that you look a bit nervous. "This part of the road is a bit nerveracking, but we're almost there," he assures you.
The surrounding trees soon begin to become more sparse, eventually opening up to what looks to you like a small clearing at the top of the hill. A big metal guard rail wraps around the area; as Wonwoo pulls up to it to park the car, you gasp. Beyond the guard rail is an incredible view of the whole town, the orange glow of the streetlights and houselights making it look so warm and picturesque that it seems like a scene straight out of a movie.
"Holy shit," you say softly, awestruck by the unreal sight. Wonwoo grins, then hops out of the car. You follow suit and join him by the railing, taking in the stunning view.
"I had no idea there was anything like this around here," you say softly.
"Isn't it beautiful?" he asks. Your eyes flicker over to him, finding his gaze fixated on you.
"How did you find this?" you ask, the same rush of heat as earlier returning to your cheeks.
"My roommate last year told me about it — he grew up around here, apparently it was a popular place for high schoolers to take their dates."
"So you've brought me to a make-out point," you reply, raising your brow at him.
"I suppose so," he chuckles. "But genuinely, I just wanted to show you the view."
"So you don't want to make out with me then."
Wonwoo smiles, his eyes still locked onto yours. You feel a wave of heat overtaking you again, this time burning achingly in your core. If this had happened yesterday, you would be peeved; but the usual feeling of displeasure you feel in his presence is nowhere to be found.
"I don't want to do anything you don't want to do," he answers plainly.
"And what if I do want it?"
The words feel foreign on your tongue, your voice so soft you almost didn't recognize it as yours. But you said it, and for reasons you cannot explain, you meant it.
Wonwoo takes a small step toward you. "Want what?" he asks, the cheekiness in his words not going unnoticed.
"Want you to kiss me," you say, taking a small step toward him. Your mouths are mere inches apart, and Wonwoo's eyes definitely keep flickering down to your lips.
"You do?" he asks, a grin overtaking his face.
"Yeah," you answer, the words coming out in barely more than a whisper. "I do."
Wonwoo smiles, then the next thing you know his lips are crashing into yours. The kiss starts out soft, sweet — his mouth presses against yours delicately, savoring your taste for the first time, his fingers brushing lithely over your jaw, sending a rush of electricity coursing through your body as you accept the kiss. His hands slowly drift to your sides, slipping into your open coat and resting upon your hips. Before you can even think twice you're leaning into him, the warmth of his torso instantly blocking the chill of the late autumnal air. He kisses you slowly at first, but that doesn't last long — not with you being tangled up in each other's grasp. His lips start tugging at yours with sudden urgency, and you eagerly reciprocate. The ridiculousness of you making out with the coworker you up until tonight absolutely could not stand is not lost on you, but right now you could not care less.
His lips depart yours far too soon, his hands maintaining their grip on your waist as you stare up into his eyes. You've never seen Wonwoo from this close up — why would you have? But you don't recall his eyes ever being so soft and warm as they are gazing back at you through his lenses right now. A chill overtakes you, and you shiver slightly as the wind cuts through your layers.
"C'mere," he tells you, taking hold of your hand and starting to pull you back toward his car. "It'll be warmer in here."
He opens the door to the backseat, gesturing for you to enter first; you slide across the soft leather to the other side, allowing him room to climb in after you, but as soon as he's inside with the door closed he grabs you again, taking hold of your arms and dragging you into his embrace. Without the wind now, inside the car quickly becomes a bit too toasty. Wonwoo hastily removes your coat, tossing it into the front seat and following suit with his own jacket. He pulls you over onto him, your thigh swinging over his legs as you sit straddled across his lap, your arms draped over the top of the backseat as you lean in to kiss him again. This time his tongue swipes at your lips; you part them, allowing him entrance, your tongues now dancing against each other with fervent need. His hands slip beneath the hem of your sweater, running up your stomach and resting atop the cups of your bra. You break the kiss momentarily, the corners of your lips twisting into a sly smile.
"Go on," you say to him, nudging your head toward your sweater. "Take it off."
He grins back at you, the red glow of his cheeks apparent even in the dim lighting. Grabbing the hem he lifts the garment over your head and practically flings it onto the seat next to him. Shirtless now, he stares at your cleavage before him, his hands grasping at the soft flesh through your bra.
"I've thought about this exact scenario a thousand times," he mutters, licking his lips. "But god, it's even better than I imagined."
He peers up at you again, staring at you hungrily for the briefest of seconds before he suddenly reaches for his glasses, ripping them off his face and tossing them onto the seat with your sweater before diving back into your lips. He kisses you as his hands wander to your lower back, and your grind your hips against him — an involuntary action, but it causes your clit to press into the stiff bulge forming in his trousers. You let out a soft sigh at the sensation, exhaling against his lips as he holds you tight in his arms. Eventually his fingers return to your boobs, grazing gently over your cleavage, sending a delicious chill up your spine.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to—" he starts breathily, but you shake your head immediately.
"I want to," you tell him softly, and a mischievous grin flickers at his lips. "What?" you laugh.
"Nothing, just remembering how much you hated my guts a few days ago and here we are now," he replies cheekily, squeezing lightly at your boobs.
"I didn't 'hate your guts'," you refute as you roll your eyes. "I just found you annoying and insufferable."
"Oh, is that all?" he smirks.
"Shut up," you mumble, leaning your forehead against his as you hover your lips right above his mouth. "Do you wanna kiss me or not?"
"I do, very much so," he smiles, lightly dragging his bottom lip across yours. His hands slide to your hips, pressing your core into his erection again as he grinds you against his lap.
"Fuck," you gasp, followed by an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry, I just… it's been a little while," you admit.
"Don't apologize," he says, kissing down your down your chin, nudging his face into your neck as he places a delicate string of kisses onto the tender skin. The sensation makes you melt, sinking your clothed cunt further into his bulge. "We can take this as slow as you want."
"Who said I want to go slow?"
He lifts his head, meeting your eyes again, finding them eager and needy.
"God, you're gonna drive me crazy if you keep saying stuff like that," he says with a lazy smirk.
"Good," you reply with a grin, muttering into his lips. "Then we'll be even."
"Is that so?" he mumbles back. "Guess I'll just have to try harder to get on your nerves now."
"Oh god, please don't."
Wonwoo lets out a laugh — the sound warm and hearty.
"So, do we have a truce then?" he inquires.
"I suppose so," you answer. "Who knew all it would take for you to leave me alone is for me to fuck you?"
He grins. "A bit toxic of us, don't you think?"
"Probably," you reply with a shrug, dragging your hand down his torso, reaching for his belt and tugging at the buckle, making his eyes widen excitedly.
Welcome to the studioSVT Birthday Event! ✨A Midsummer Carat's Dream✨ is our way of thanking you for a wonderful 2 years, and we're handing the typewriters out in an open invitation to all! Find out how you can participate below.
HOW IT WORKS:
We have curated a list of prompts consisting of dialogue, premises, and openings below. Pick one (or more!) of the prompts and include them in one of your writings. Post it on Tumblr according to the guidelines below and we will reblog it!
This event will run from JULY 24TH - SEPTEMBER 18TH 2026.
GUIDELINES:
This event is open for anyone who would like to join. You do not need to be a member.
All fics must include one or more members of Seventeen x Reader.
All fics must include the use of at least one prompt from the list below. They can either be quoted directly or used as a heavy inspiration.
AI must not be used at any point of the process. This includes writing, planning, graphics, and plot. Anyone caught using AI in their work will be permanently blacklisted.
Open to blogs 18 and above ONLY. You must have an age indicator on your blog. (Legal, Adult, etcetera are acceptable indicators)
Blog must not be empty/inactive.
There is no minimum/maximum word count.
Fics posted after September 18th will not be reblogged.
Mature content/NSFW content must be flagged in the beginning of the fic.
A read more cut must be used after the first 500 words (includes foreword), and before any mature content.
Fics must not overlap with another external event (this does not include personally curated events for the OP's blog only).
Use #amidsummercaratsdreamevent in the first 5 tags.
Tag @studiosvt in the foreword or at the end of the fic.
Avoid tagging members not in the main pairings.
FICS NOT ADHERING TO THESE RULES WILL NOT BE REBLOGGED.
Note: Anonymous asks have been turned off temporarily to effectively and privately answer questions pertaining to the collab. Please read through the guidelines before sending an ask.
PROMPTS:
“Is that legal?” “Define legal.”
A deity you thought long gone appears to give you a job offer
“I’ve been expecting you.”
“How long have you known about that?”
You went to sleep in your bed and woke up in a circus
“You think this is funny?” “It got you smiling, didn’t it?”
“That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had.” “Are you sure?” “Okay, it’s the second worst idea you’ve ever had.”
“No one is going to believe us.”
“You weren’t supposed to see that.”
You’re new boss is your ex from college
“Dont make me regret this.”
You inherit a magical pawn shop from a witch you never met
“Don’t look them in the eyes.”
You receive a text message from someone you thought was dead
“If anyone can hear me on this frequency, we found somewhere safe.”
“That’s not your blood, though.”
“Don’t panic.” “Too late.” “Okay, so medium panic.”
The magic in your world suddenly stops working - except for yours
You accidentally swipe right on your best friend’s dating profile
You become someone’s scapegoat after an assassination
You join a book club on the weekends only to find out it’s an occult group
“This looked so much easier online!”
An alien crash lands in your back yard and says they’ve been searching for you
The world ends while you’re at work
“Can you see them too?”
You discover an island that appears on no maps
You wake up to find that someone has stolen your memories
You wake up with someone else’s memories
“I feel like I’m finally home… with you.”
You receive a random invitation to an exclusive party
“Did you mean what you said last night?”
“Why do you insist on making everything so hard?”
The new neighbor’s lights randomly flashes in their windows between 3am-4am every night
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“So I hear you’re into racing.”
They showed up for you when you needed them the most
You go on a random road trip with a group of friends and it changes the trajectory of your life.
“Draw your weapon.”
Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas—unless it’s livestreamed.
(writes something) god this sucks so bad. this is awful. i'm the worst writer ever. this is nothing. (rereads it a while after writing it) oh dude this is fire. i'm the god of writing. (writes something again) god this sucks so bad. th
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