starlit 💫

here lies everything I never said out loud.💭

[starlitjoong]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

intro!!

Call me Star :3 I’m a 19 yr old fem!writer based in CA! Primarily writing kpop fanfiction, willing to dabble in other fandoms/original writing. Looking for mooties & beta readers! Let’s be friends!!

𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 Current work: J’s Lullaby | JONGSANG

𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 Spotify Wattpad

♪‧₊˚ She/Her | LGBTQ+ welcome!

bye bye~!

[starlitjoong]

Lost In Japan - CH.J

Do you got plans tonight? I'm a couple hundred miles from Japan, and I can't get you off my mind.

Warnings: none. Just a cute drabble!

a/n𐔌՞. .՞𐦯: Something cute for you guys before I start travelling! It's currently 12:39 a.m., and I leave for the airport at 5 am! Anywho, I've been obsessed with Lost in Japan by Shawn Mendes. So here's a cute drabble based off the song!

————————————————

The vast city lights seemed to swallow you whole as you walked aimlessly around Tokyo. In comparison to your hometown, this was a whole new beast. The crowd of people seemed to disguise you just enough to hide the fact you were alone, but you had never felt lonelier until now. 

You watched as friends clung to one another as they stumbled from club to club. Couples holding each other tight as they window shopped. You clutched the strap of your bag to recreate the feeling. It didn’t work. 

You’ve been in Japan for three days. The trip was supposed to be a distraction from the busy life waiting for you back home. But alas, it only gave you more time to think about it. And no matter what you did, you couldn’t get him off your mind. 

The hotel was comfortable enough. Some mid-luxury franchise with a decent bar. Still, nothing compared to the feeling of falling asleep beside him. 

Let’s stop thinking about this. 

You trekked on, pushing past what seemed like millions of people. Suddenly, your phone buzzed. 

And kept buzzing.

Unknown Caller…

Normally, you’d send it to voicemail. If it were someone important, they’d leave a message. 

But something deep within you told you to answer it.

“Hello?” 

The line was quiet on the other end, but you heard the faint sound of someone clearing their throat. 

“Please don’t hang up.” 

The sound of his voice shook you to your core. Your phone nearly slipped from your hand as you glanced at the screen, just to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. 

“Jongho?” you asked, your voice shaking a little. You hated to admit it, but the sound of his voice melted something inside you. 

“The one and only, Princess,” he answered. You could hear the small smile in his voice. “Since when did you change your number? I had to ask, like, four of your friends to get this one.” 

“What?” You stifled a laugh. Of course, your friends would give him a hard time. 

“Yeah. Sana finally gave it to me after an hour-long lecture about treating you right,” he said. 

Both of you went quiet for a moment. Unsaid questions hung in the air, like you both knew the conversation had to be had eventually. You let out a long sigh. 

“So,” you paused. “Why are you calling me?” 

You could hear the gears working in his brain. Like he was trying to find the best answer to not piss you off. After all, you two weren’t on the best of terms. 

“Well, I just landed in Japan…” he trailed off. 

The world around you went quiet. The man you hadn’t seen in months just so happened to be in the same place as you. Hundreds of miles away from home. The thought made you dizzy. 

“What?” 

He chuckled lightly; you could hear the anxiety bubbling inside him. 

“Uh, yeah. I had some work to do overseas. And I had seen on your Instagram that you landed here. And… I couldn’t get you off my mind, so one thing led to another and—” 

“So you flew to Tokyo,” you finished for him. You were always good at finishing his sentences. Your eyes trailed up as you made your way to the hotel lobby. Your heart was thudding violently in your chest. 

“Well, when you put it that way, I sound crazy.” 

It was your turn to laugh. 

“Maybe you are.”

“Yeah, but only for you.” He shot back. 

His words hung heavy in the air as the memories of your past played in your head. Your time together was good, great even. Jongho always treated you right. That's what scared you the most. 

When your friends started asking when you’d get married. Saying things like “he’ll be able to take care of you,” and “You won’t need anyone else.” That's when you felt the need to run. Not because you didn’t want to be with him, but because you didn’t know how to be with him without losing yourself in the process. 

Being alone on this trip helped you realize that maybe you need his help to find yourself. That maybe Jongho, or your love, was never the problem. 

“Y/N?” his voice called, pulling you out of your trance. You stopped in the hallway outside your hotel room. 

“Jongho,” you responded, your voice barely a whisper. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” he asked. You couldn’t help but shudder. 

“No.” 

“Can I come see you? Even for just a moment?”

An hour later, Jongho was standing in front of you outside the hotel. His gaze locked with yours, so intense it felt like he was scared to look away. He was convinced that if he did, you’d disappear again. He’d never let that happen. 

You hugged him before you could think properly. Suddenly forgetting every mantra you’ve taught yourself to get over him. His arms felt like home. Jongho wasted no time wrapping you in his embrace, holding you so tight his muscles trembled slightly. 

“You actually came…” You mumbled into his chest. He laughed, gummy smile gleaming in the late night. 

“I can’t let you get away that easily,” he admitted. “You’re not something I can just give up on.” 

You sighed. 

“Even when I walked out so easily?” You asked; it sounded like you were trying to convince him to leave this time. He just shook his head. 

“You’re scared. I am too. But that doesn’t mean I’m going just to let you go.” 

“So what are you saying, Jongho?” You pressed on, finally meeting his eyes. They sparkled with adoration, like you were the one true precious thing on this earth. And to him, you were. 

“I’m saying that no matter what happens. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your heart fluttered at his words; the familiar ache you tried so hard to get over consumed you as he held you in his arms.

Being lost in Japan was supposed to help you move on. 

Instead, you found your way back to the man you couldn’t get off your mind. 

[kittypusslov]

ATEEZ as Boyfriends — Period Scenarios just my thoughts

And if someone else could write something similar I would love to see how you think they would do 😅

Also first post plz go easy on me

————————————————

Park Seonghwa

Seonghwa was waiting for your second and third sneeze just so he could dramatically say “bless you” again, but before he even got the chance, your hand ripped from his and you bolted down the hallway toward the bathrooms.

“Baby?” he called, startled, immediately following after you.

The door to the family restroom slammed shut behind you.

Inside, your heart dropped.

The warm gush you’d felt wasn’t your imagination. Blood stained your skirt, your thighs, even your hands from trying to stop the panic spiraling through you. Your period wasn’t supposed to come for another two weeks. You had nothing with you. No pads, no tampons, no spare clothes—nothing.

Outside the door, Seonghwa knocked softly at first.

“Hey… you okay in there?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, mortified.

You tried cleaning yourself up with damp paper towels, but it only made the mess smear more. The stain on your skirt was obvious now, and every second made you want to cry harder.

Another knock.

“Baby?” His voice lowered with concern. “You’re scaring me a little.”

You still didn’t answer.

A few more minutes passed before his knocking became more urgent.

“Please talk to me. Are you hurt?”

Your lip trembled. Finally, you unlocked the door just enough to peek out.

“I—I started my period,” you whispered, already tearing up. “It’s everywhere…”

The worry on Seonghwa’s face instantly melted into pure softness.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Before you could apologize again, he gently pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him. Thankfully it was a private family restroom.

His eyes scanned you quickly—

“Aww, my poor baby.” His hands cupped your face carefully. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

You shook your head in embarrassment. “It’s not okay, I made such a mess—”

“So what?” he interrupted gently, brushing his thumb under your eye. “Periods happen. You don’t need to be embarrassed with me.”

He kissed the tip of your nose, making you let out the tiniest shaky laugh.

“There’s my girl.”

After making sure you were okay physically, he pinched your cheek lightly. “Stay here for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You blinked at him. “Wait, where are you—”

But he was already gone.

Not even ten minutes later, there was another knock on the door.

“Open up, baby.”

When you cracked it open, Seonghwa stood there holding a small shopping bag triumphantly.

Inside were your favorite pads, wet wipes, pain medicine, a bottled drink… and somehow, a pair of your own leggings and panties you’d been missing for weeks.

You stared at him. “Those are mine.”

He grinned unapologetically. “I borrowed them for emergency boyfriend purposes.”

You couldn’t help laughing through your tears.

He handed you the bag carefully. “Get changed. I’ll wait right outside, and then I’m taking you home, making you tea, and putting on whatever comfort movie you want.”

“…Even if it’s the same one we watched three times already?”

“Especially then.” He smiled warmly. “Now go take care of yourself, pretty girl.”

—————

Kim Hongjoong

Hongjoong was mid-sentence when you suddenly ripped your hand from his and took off down the hallway.

“Wait—baby?”

He blinked in confusion, trying to process what had just happened. One second you were walking beside him holding his hand, the next you looked horrified and practically sprinted away.

It took him a few seconds to react.

“Y/n?!”

By the time he hurried after you, you’d already disappeared around the corner. He looked around frantically, trying to figure out which direction you’d gone before finally pulling out his phone and calling you.

Inside the bathroom, your own phone buzzing in your bag only made you want to cry harder.

You were trying desperately to clean yourself up with rough paper towels and water, but it barely helped. Your skirt was stained badly, and you could still feel blood trickling down your thighs.

Your phone buzzed again.

And again.

“God…” you muttered miserably, knowing Hongjoong was probably panicking by now.

Finally, after cleaning yourself up as best you could, you answered.

Hongjoong didn’t even wait for a greeting.

“Where are you?! What’s wrong? Are you okay??”

The words tumbled out so fast and full of worry that guilt instantly hit you.

“I’m sorry, Joonie…” Your voice came out small and embarrassed. “I—I started my cycle… I’m in the bathroom.”

There was a brief pause.

“Oh thank God,” he breathed. “I thought something happened to you.”

You leaned against the sink, eyes watering again. “It kinda did…”

“Aww, baby…”

You could practically picture the pout on his face through the phone.

“Okay, don’t worry,” he said immediately, voice switching into problem-solving mode. “I’ll take care of it.”

You frowned. “What?”

But before you could question him further, he cut in quickly.

“Stay right there. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

Then he hung up.

About fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the bathroom door.

“Baby? It’s me.”

You slowly cracked the door open, only for Hongjoong to immediately stick two grocery bags through the gap without even trying to peek inside.

You took the bags and stared down in disbelief.

Pads. Tampons. A menstrual cup. Wet wipes. Painkillers. Snacks. A heating patch. New underwear. Sweatpants. Even a hoodie.

It genuinely looked like he’d walked into the store and panic-bought the entire feminine hygiene aisle.

You could vividly imagine him speed-walking through the store muttering, “What if she needs this too?” while throwing random products into the cart.

Your chest tightened painfully in the sweetest way.

“Joonie…”

From outside the door, you heard him answer softly, “Did I get the right stuff?”

“You got… literally everything.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice now. “Take your time cleaning up. I’ll stay right here.”

A few seconds later—

“And baby?”

“Yeah?”

“No more running away from me when you’re hurting, okay?” His voice gentled. “I’d rather help than have you panic alone.”

———————

Jeong Yunho

The date had been perfect up until now.

You and Yunho had been walking through the park hand in hand, teasing each other while sharing snacks and pointing out dogs you wanted to pet. You’d mentioned your stomach hurting a little earlier, but neither of you thought much of it.

Then you sneezed.

And immediately felt the awful warm gush spread between your legs.

Your soul practically left your body.

Yunho opened his mouth, ready to make some joke about pollen season—

—but before he could even speak, you yanked your hand away and bolted.

“Baby??”

Even with his delayed reaction, Yunho’s long legs caught up to you quickly before you even reached the bathroom stalls.

“Baby, why did you run??” he asked, completely panicked.

“Yunho, out of the way please!!” you whisper-yelled frantically, trying to get around him. “I think I just started my period or peed myself!”

His entire brain visibly short-circuited.

“Oh.”

You shoved past him into the stall and locked the door behind you, groaning in embarrassment as you checked the damage.

Of course it wasn’t pee.

Of course your period had decided to show up two weeks early in the middle of a park date.

Outside the stall, Yunho blinked several times before stepping closer and knocking carefully.

“Ummm… baby?” he asked hesitantly. “What can I do? Do you need my jacket?”

You sighed in defeat. “Yes please, baby. Thank you… just give me a few minutes to figure something out.”

A second later his hoodie was handed over the top of the stall.

Meanwhile Yunho stood outside guarding the bathroom area like it was a military assignment.

Then his eyes landed on two women nearby pushing strollers with toddlers.

His face lit up like he’d just solved world hunger.

Without hesitation, he jogged over.

“Excuse me!” he called politely.

The women looked up curiously as the tall, visibly stressed young man approached them.

“Do either of you happen to have a diaper?”

“…A diaper?” one repeated slowly.

Yunho nodded rapidly. “My girlfriend had an emergency and I thought maybe—well—I don’t know—I panicked—”

The more he explained, the more the women started laughing.

“Oh honey,” one of them said between giggles. “You mean she started her period?”

Yunho looked relieved someone understood him.

“Yes! Exactly!”

The women exchanged amused looks before one dug through her purse and handed him two tampons.

“There you go, sweetheart. And maybe don’t ask strangers for diapers next time,” she teased gently. “Your girlfriend might get embarrassed… or dump you.”

Yunho gasped dramatically. “No, please don’t say that.”

The women laughed harder.

“But you’ve got good intentions,” the other reassured him.

Yunho bowed repeatedly. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Then he sprinted back toward the bathroom like a man on a mission.

A knock sounded on your stall door again.

“Baby?”

You cracked the door slightly, and Yunho immediately handed back his hoodie along with two tampons held proudly in his palm like trophies.

You stared at them in confusion.

“…Where did you get those?”

There was a pause.

“…Two moms.”

You blinked.

“What?”

Through the crack in the door, Yunho sheepishly explained the entire diaper incident.

Your jaw dropped.

“You—you asked them for diapers??”

“I thought it might help?!”

At that point you almost burst out laughing despite your embarrassment.

You pressed your forehead against the stall door. “Oh my God…”

“Was it wrong??”

“…Never mind, baby,” you laughed weakly. “Thank you.”

As you shut the stall door again, you could hear Yunho sigh dramatically outside.

“Okay good,” he muttered to himself. “I thought I ruined my chances of being husband material.”

———————————

Kang Yeosang

You and Yeosang had been having a surprisingly fun grocery shopping date.

The cart was already half full with snacks you definitely didn’t need, ingredients for dinner, and random things Yeosang kept insisting looked “interesting enough to try once.”

You’d mentioned some stomach pain earlier, but you figured it was nothing serious.

Then you sneezed.

And immediately felt the unmistakable warm gush between your legs.

Your eyes widened in horror.

Without a single word, you abandoned the cart and speed-walked—quickly turning into a full sprint—toward the bathrooms on the other side of the store.

“???”

Yeosang blinked in confusion before quickly following after you, leaving the completely full cart sitting in the middle of an aisle.

He assumed it must’ve been a serious bathroom emergency and waited patiently outside the restroom door.

One minute passed.

Then another.

Then another.

Finally he knocked gently.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

Inside the stall, you wanted to disappear forever.

“It’s my period…” you admitted quietly. “It came early.”

There was a pause.

Then simply—

“Oh.”

You waited for awkwardness. Panic. Anything.

Instead Yeosang just nodded to himself calmly outside the door.

“Okay.”

You took a shaky breath. At least you were already in a store.

“Can you maybe buy me pads?” you asked weakly.

“Okay.”

And with that, he turned and walked away immediately.

At first, Yeosang felt confident.

How hard could buying pads possibly be?

Then he reached the aisle.

His confidence vanished instantly.

There were dozens of boxes.

Different sizes. Different colors. Wings? No wings? Overnight? Ultra thin? Super plus?? Why did some look like they belonged in a tech store?

Yeosang stood frozen in front of the shelf for several long minutes, staring with the intensity of someone trying to decode ancient scripture.

Eventually, an older woman noticed him visibly struggling and approached with an amused smile.

“Honey, do you need help?”

Yeosang immediately nodded.

“Yes. Very much.”

The woman chuckled softly. “Girlfriend emergency?”

“Yes,” he answered seriously. “Very emergency.”

That only made her laugh harder.

After Yeosang awkwardly explained the situation in detail, the woman kindly grabbed a variety pack box from the shelf and handed it to him.

“This one should help. Now hurry up and bring these to your poor girlfriend.”

Then she pointed at him accusingly.

“And apologize for taking so long. Tell her the checkout line was long.”

Yeosang blinked.

“But I was standing there confused for a long time.”

The woman laughed loudly. “Don’t tell her that part!”

Still, Yeosang thanked her politely and hurried off.

Back at the bathroom, there was finally a knock.

“Y/n?”

You opened the door slightly, and Yeosang handed you the bag.

“Sorry it took so long,” he said honestly. “There were too many options and I got overwhelmed.”

You stared at him for a second before laughing despite your embarrassment.

“You’re cute.”

“I also got help from a grandmother,” he admitted immediately.

“…Yeosang.”

“She said not to tell you that.”

You laughed harder from inside the stall while he smiled proudly at himself for succeeding in the mission.

Once you cleaned up, Yeosang wrapped an arm around your shoulders and carefully walked you out of the store, carrying the small bag like he’d just completed an important quest.

It wasn’t until the two of you got home that silence suddenly filled the room.

You slowly looked at him.

“…The groceries.”

Yeosang froze.

The two of you had completely abandoned an entire cart full of groceries in the middle of the store.

————————

Choi San

You and San had spent the entire afternoon wandering through little shops, laughing together, completely wrapped up in your date.

You’d noticed some stomach cramps here and there, but you brushed them off. Nothing unusual.

At least, you thought so.

Then you sneezed.

And in an instant, that warm, awful feeling hit you. Your entire body went rigid.

“Oh no.”

San barely had time to react before you pulled your hand out of his and practically speed-walked away.

“Baby??”

The panic in your face immediately set him on edge.

“I— I need the bathroom,” you blurted, already moving faster.

“Wait—what happened?” he called, following right behind you.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You were too mortified, weaving through people until you spotted a family restroom and rushed inside, slamming the door shut.

“Y/n!” San knocked immediately. “Hey—open the door. Are you okay? Did you get sick?”

Inside, you leaned against the sink, eyes stinging.

Of course. Of course it was your period.

Two weeks early.

And of course you had nothing with you.

“Baby!” he called again, more worried now. “Talk to me.”

“I’m fine!” you called back quickly, though your voice wavered.

“That did not sound fine!”

You let out a frustrated, shaky breath.

After a moment of him pacing outside, you finally cracked the door open just enough to look at him.

The second San saw your face—watery eyes, embarrassed expression—his whole posture softened.

“What happened?” he asked gently.

You looked away. “I started my period…”

There was a beat of silence.

Then he visibly relaxed. “Oh. Thank God.”

You blinked. “What do you mean ‘thank God’?”

“I thought something was really wrong,” he admitted, exhaling. His eyes then dropped briefly, taking in the situation, and his expression shifted instantly into something softer. “Oh… baby.”

Your cheeks burned. “It’s embarrassing.”

“No.” His voice turned firm, but gentle. “Don’t say that.”

Before you could protest, he pushed the door open wider and stepped inside with you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“It’s just your period,” he said quietly, gently cupping your face. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.”

That was all it took for your eyes to well up again.

San’s expression immediately softened in alarm. “Hey—hey, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not trying to,” you whispered, overwhelmed.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then both cheeks—slow, grounding, reassuring. Then he crouched down slightly, hands gentle as he checked on you, like he was making sure you were okay more than anything else.

“It’s a bit of a mess…” you admitted quietly.

“Then we handle it,” he said simply, like there was nothing complicated about it at all.

He met your eyes again. “Look at me.”

You did, still teary and embarrassed.

San stood, grabbed some paper towels, and wet them at the sink. Without hesitation, he started helping you clean up gently, carefully, working slowly and patiently while you tried half-heartedly to stop him.

“San, I can—”

“I know,” he interrupted softly. “But I’ve got you.”

He didn’t rush. He didn’t make it awkward. When he was satisfied, he helped you sit down and stepped back slightly.

“Stay here for a minute,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“San—where are you going?”

“Car,” he answered simply. “I keep a bag there.”

You blinked. “A bag?”

He gave a small shrug through the door before heading out. “Emergency stuff. Pads, pain meds, spare clothes… your hair ties, too.”

And just like that, he was gone A few minutes later, he came back knocking gently.

“It’s me.”

You let him in again.

“I keep it in the car,” he explained, holding up the bag. “Just in case. I’ve got everything you might need.”

Your chest tightened at how casually prepared he was.

He helped you clean up properly, gave you fresh clothes, and made sure you were comfortable before handing you a soft hoodie.

“Better?” he asked.

“…Yeah,” you admitted quietly.

“Good,” he said with a small smile.

Then, softer, he added, “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

He kept a steady hand on your back as you walked out, slow and careful, never rushing you. All the way to the car, his thumb gently rubbed calming circles into your skin.

And when you got home, he didn’t stop there.

He ran you a bath, got you something warm to drink, and stayed with you just taking care of you

——————————-

Mingi

The realization hit you so fast your face went pale. Without thinking, you let go of Mingi’s hand and rushed toward the nearest bathroom, panic setting in with every step.

“Hey—baby?!” Mingi called, immediately following you, concern sharpening his voice. “What happened?”

You couldn’t even answer. You were too mortified, too overwhelmed, already pushing into the restroom area and shutting yourself in.

Inside, reality sank in.

Two weeks early.

Nothing with you.

Not even a backup.

“Oh God…” you whispered, leaning against the counter as your mind raced.

Outside, you heard him.

“Y/n? Talk to me. Are you hurt?”

You swallowed hard, voice barely steady. “I’m… I’m okay.”

But it didn’t sound convincing—not even to you.

There was a pause, then you heard him shift closer.

“Open the door a little,” Mingi said gently. “Just let me see you.”

When you finally cracked it open, his expression softened immediately—but there was still worry in his eyes. Until he understood.

Then his face changed completely.

“Oh…” he breathed. “Baby…”

The embarrassment hit you all over again. “It’s really bad. I don’t have anything with me.”

For a second, he just looked at you—processing, thinking fast. Then he nodded once, decisive.

“Okay. Don’t worry,” he said firmly. “I’ve got you.”

Before you could even respond, he shrugged off his jacket and carefully tied it around your waist, shielding you gently without hesitation.

“Hey,” he added softly, meeting your eyes. “I’m gonna take care of you. Alright?”

You nodded weakly, still overwhelmed.

Then, without warning, he scooped you up bridal style like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Mi—Mingi!” you gasped.

“Just relax,” he said, already walking. “I’ve got you.”

He carried you straight to the car, careful and steady the whole way, like you weighed nothing at all but still mattered completely.

Once inside, he immediately turned the heated seat on and started the engine.

“We’re going to the store first,” he said calmly. “Okay? We’ll grab whatever you need.”

You nodded, still trying to process everything.

At the convenience store, he was quick and focused—pads, pain relief, snacks, drinks—moving like he already knew exactly what would help.

Then he drove you both home.

The moment you got inside, everything shifted into comfort mode.

“I’ll set everything up,” he said, already moving with purpose. “Go take care of what you need. I’ll be right here.”

When you came out, the living room was transformed—soft lighting, blankets everywhere, a heating pad already warmed and waiting on the couch. Your favorite movie was on, low and comforting in the background.

Mingi patted the spot beside him.

“Come here,” he said gently.

Mingi stayed beside you on the couch, the movie playing quietly in the background, but his focus was completely on you.

You were curled up under a blanket, the heating pad resting against your stomach, slowly easing the cramps. When he noticed you still looked tense, he gently pulled your legs into his lap.

“Relax,” he said softly.

His hands were big—large enough to wrap easily around your calves. When he started massaging your ankles, his fingers circled slowly, applying steady, even pressure. Not too hard, not too light—just enough to feel grounding.

“Let me know if it hurts,” he murmured.

“It’s okay,” you whispered.

So he kept going.

His thumbs worked up your calves in slow, careful motions. When he found tight spots, he paused and pressed a little deeper, then eased off again, repeating the motion until the tension softened.

You could feel how strong he was, even though he was gentle with every movement. His grip stayed steady and controlled, like he was making sure you felt safe the entire time.

“You’ve been on your feet a lot today,” he said quietly, more to himself.

His hands moved higher, smoothing over your legs in slow strokes, easing out the remaining tightness around your knees. Every so often, his thumb would trace small calming circles, almost absentminded but comforting.

“You okay?” he asked again, glancing up at you.

You nodded.

“Good,” he said simply.

He kept massaging slowly, patiently, like he wasn’t in any rush at all—just focused on making sure you felt better.

—————————

Wooyoung

You and your boyfriend WooYoung had been out together all afternoon—just a casual date, walking around, grabbing snacks, enjoying the day.

Panic hit instantly. Without a word, you let go of his hand and rushed toward the nearest bathroom, your heart racing. It was two weeks early—and you had nothing with you.

“Baby?!” Wooyoung called, startled, immediately following you. “Hey—what’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer, too mortified, already slipping into the restroom and shutting the door.

Outside, he started knocking lightly.

“Hey, honey… are you okay in there?”

Then, softer, more concerned: “Talk to me.”

Inside, you leaned against the sink, trying to breathe.

Of course it was your period. Of course it was unexpected.

You finally spoke, voice small. “Woo… I started early.”

There was a pause.

“…Oh,” he said, then immediately softened. “Okay. Okay, baby, I’ve got you.”

The door cracked open slightly, and he gently stepped inside before you could even protest.

“Aww,” he murmured, seeing your face. “Come here.”

Before you could respond, he pulled you into a soft hug, one hand immediately moving to your hair, smoothing it down in slow, calming strokes.

“You’re okay,” he said quietly. “Are you cramping?

“Yeah… a little.”

He nodded like he already expected that. His hand moved down your back gently, then rested carefully over your lower stomach, rubbing slow circles.

“I should’ve noticed earlier,” he said, half to himself. “You were crampy, hungrier… a little extra bratty too.”

You let out a small wine, he can’t be the one to talk about someone else being a brat…

He smiled. “Hey, it’s okay. I know you.”

From his jacket pocket, he already pulled out a couple of pads—like he had been prepared for this exact possibility—and set them aside for you, then quickly slipped his jacket off and handed it to you.

“Wear this baby” he said softly. Helping you put his long coat on.

Once you were done, he was immediately there again, guiding you out with a warm hand on your back.

“You good?” he asked gently.

You nodded.

“Okay. We’re going home.”

The ride back was quiet, comfortable. He kept one hand on your thigh, squeezing gently now and then, grounding you without saying much.

At home, he didn’t hesitate—he ran you a bath, got your favorite comfort food ready, and made the couch into a nest of blankets and warmth.

And when you finally came out, he pulled you straight into his arms.

“Stay here,” he said softly. “I’ve got you for the rest of the night.”

And he did—movies, cuddles, soft teasing comments, and all the care in the world, like it was the easiest thing for him to do.

—————————-

Jungho

Without saying a word, you let go of Jongho’s hand and quickly walked away, heading straight for the nearest restroom.

“Hey—wait,” Jongho called, immediately alert. His voice wasn’t loud, but it had that sharp concern in it as he followed you. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You were already pushing into the bathroom area, mortified, heart racing.

Inside, you leaned against the sink, breathing fast. Two weeks early. Nothing with you. Of course.

Outside, you heard a knock—firm but careful.

“Are you hurt?” Jongho asked.

You hesitated. Then, quietly: “I’m okay… I just… started my period.”

There was a pause.

Then his voice softened immediately. “Oh.”

A beat.

“Okay. Don’t panic. I’m here.”

The door opened just slightly, and Jongho stepped in only far enough to see you—not rushing, not crowding you.

His expression softened when he saw your face.

“It’s okay,” he said simply. “You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

Your eyes dropped. “It’s annoying… I didn’t expect it.”

He nodded once, like that was all he needed to hear.

“I know,” he said. Then, more practically, “Do you have anything with you?”

You shook your head.

“Alright,” he said, already thinking. Calm. Focused. “Stay here a second.”

Before you could argue, he stepped out—but didn’t go far. You could hear him on his phone, short and efficient, like he was handling a mission. Then a few minutes later, he was back.

He held out his jacket first.

“Wrap this around your waist,” he said. “We’re going to get what you need.”

No teasing. No awkwardness. Just steady certainty.

He stayed close as you moved, walking slightly behind you like a shield so you didn’t feel exposed. Every so often, he’d check in quietly.

“You okay?”

You’d nod.

“Good.”

At the store, he didn’t hesitate—pads, pain relief, snacks, drinks. He grabbed everything quickly, like he wanted to get you out of there as fast and comfortably as possible.

On the way home, the car was warm and quiet. Jongho kept one hand resting lightly near yours, not overly touchy, just present.

When you got home, his whole demeanor shifted into quiet care.

“I’ll set things up,” he said. “Go change.”

When you came out, the living room was already prepared—blankets neatly spread out, your favorite show ready, a warm drink waiting on the table.

Jongho looked up at you and nodded slightly.

“Come here,” he said.

You sat beside him, still a little embarrassed, and he adjusted the blanket around you without making it a big deal.

“You don’t have to deal with it alone,” he said quietly.

Then, after a pause, a faint hint of softness in his voice:

“Next time, just tell me you’re cramping earlier. I’ll make it easier.”

And he meant it—not dramatic, just Jongho being Jongho: steady, practical, and completely on your side.

[starlitjoong]

STAR 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯:UPDATES🚨💗

Hii, so I’ll be traveling for the entirety of June, so all projects (including J’s Lullaby) will be on hiatus until JULY. Come July, I’ll be continuing J.L. & also releasing some new material.

Please be on the look out for updates on my travels and projects! I can’t wait to share with you all soon <3

Much love,

Star 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

[starlitjoong]

she pump my adrenaline until I *feral barking noises*

[starlitjoong]

Any Matz edit just has be writhing on the floor atp

[starlitjoong]

Happy Mother’s Day to MOTHER <3

[starlitjoong]

thinking about Seonghwa rn

[sablewardapocalypse]

— Unusual Aftersex‘

Ateez aftersex activity - hyung!line / maknae!line

Cw: slightly suggestive themes

A/n: A/n: All of this is a work of fiction and not meant to represent Ateez in any way. Jst smth quick and silly hope u like it <3 It‘s pretty short sorry💔

📼‘ Chris Travis - bring it back

Hongjoong - dying his hair

Naked, barely. Just came down from a high so intense, but for some reason this felt even more raw. Intimate. Your fingers were stained with the dark red color. Hongjoong stayed seated inside the bathtub with his back leaned up against the cold surface of it while you kneeled behind him. It wasn‘t unusual for a creative genius to see a vision in the most out of context moments, but of course you‘d help him. Get it done no matter what. Regardless of you being just in your underwear that you hardly had on or that your boyfriend didn‘t even bother to put on anything. The idea was there and it had to be done before it left his mind. Regardless of him pounding into you at a pace and force almost deadly, making you see stars and moaning eachothers names like animals only a few moments ago. Your bodys collapsed into another, the lights lit dim and fullfillment hit you just right when drowsiness was starting to take over you. The aftermath was comfortable and thoughts that just suddenly bubbled up would be in the center of attention. Now we‘d feel vulnerable enough to share them.

„Your hair looks washed out“ you murmured and ran your nails through Hongjoong‘s hair which lead you to where you are now. Silently, not unsettling, dying his hair. You massaged the chemicals into his scalp. You‘ve done this before, not enough to call yourself his personal stylist, but enough to be a caring girlfriend. With your fingers and his hair smudged in color he tilted his head back. He gave you a lazy, tired, expression, altough deep within it spoke nothing but love. You smiled and leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the lips.

„Tired?“

Seonghwa - playing nintendo

Your back pressed into Seonghwas chest, your naked- and slightly sticky bodies holding eachother for comfort. Seonghwas hot breath was fanning your neck and you simply hugged his arms. Right now you never wanted to let go.

Altough, for whatever reason you had trouble falling asleep. You weren‘t unease, not at all. Sex with him never felt like perfomance or making use of the other. It felt warm. Close. Everything was all about deepening your love and caring for your partner. It wasn‘t boring, but neither was it overwhelming.

Yet, still, right now you could not rest and you were sure enough that your boyfriend felt the same. You stole a quick glance at him over your shoulder. His eyes were barely open, he stared at your neck that he had covered in bites and love marks just a while ago while his fingers rubbed circles into your skin. No he wasn‘t sleeping either. When he caught your eyes, you didn‘t have to exchange words before your lips collectively curved up. No you wouldn‘t be sleeping either.

Within the next moments you were curled up on his side, your head falling to his shoulder while you both stared at the small TV glowing dim infront of you. A game was turned on that he adored and you always found yourself watching him.

The room still smelled like sex, your clothes were still scattered across the floor, accessories and spare condoms forgotten on your bedsite tables. You couldn‘t bother to care as much of a tidy person you were. The game he had put on was slow, comfortable. Not about perfomance either as you shared your thoughts and he pressed the buttons on his controller.

Yunho - takeout food

The room stung a harsh scent of sweat and sex. Breathless, satisfied, you layed comfortably on Yunho‘s bare chest while your fingers brushed nonsense onto his warm skin. His arms stayed wrapped around you. Possessive yet caring. Yunho rubbed your lower back while the two of you cooled down from the heat of the moment just mere minutes ago. The room was dark, though just enough to see eachother.

„Love you so much“ he whispered into the air, before leaning down and planting a soft kiss on your forehead. Just for assurance.

You smiled, your vision was getting blurrier and your body felt weaker. Any second, you would fall asleep in your boyfriend‘s arm. When all of the sudden, a little grumble right below you allerted your senses. It was quiet, but you knew what it meant. You gazed back up, eyes on a threat of closing and confusion painting your expression, but suddenly joined by a teethy grin. Yunho looked almost embarassed. he giggled akwardly while covering his mouth with his palm.

„Yunho…?“ your tone dripped off tease to which his eyes squinted and laughter followed.

„I‘m sorry“, sheepish, your boyfriend admitted. He let go of your body and you steadied yourself upwards to look down at him. Neck flushed, stomach making little stirring noises again. He ran his fingers through his sex looking hair and exhaled deeply. He was hungry.

It didn‘t take long. Barely minutes when you found yourself at a local food chain that allowed restless and fucked out guests like you past 1 am. You buried yourself deeper into Yunho‘s hoodie, it being the only thing you found on the floor when looking for something cozy enough to throw on quickly. Yunho on the other hand, hair a complete tousled mess, any zipper that didn‘t even make an effort to hide the bite marks as well as hickeys and sweatpants alongside crocks that did their job for now. But he was happy with eyes close to resting and his vision dozed off into the distance. Yunho chewed around his burger, his mouth full of food and reaching for more at the same time. You couldn’t help it, as untidy as you both looked: a moment like this was really touching and intimate in its own way.

He fucked you good, you‘d pay for his late night food.

Yeosang - deeptalking

It was always a little quieter with Yeosang. Obviously you were never ill at ease with him. Talking was fun and Yeosang loved listening, it was only for raw moments like these. You brains completly shut off, limps relaxed and breaths heavy. You stared into his eyes, still recovering from your orgasm. Your thighs were trembling from riding him at such a desperate pace when your body caved into his. You buried your forehead into Yeosang‘s shoulder and he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. You didn‘t even bother to move, with ease Yeosang shifted your body so you could both lay down together. You just wanted to be close right now. Yeosang propped his chin on top of your head, his fingers tracing along your waist whilst his gaze distanced itself.

It was only for a moment like this when the air felt close enough to speak his mind.

„Remember when we were at that bar in 2019 where I spilled my drink all over you?“ you smiled weakly while peeking up at him. He wasn‘t looking at you, his mouth had a mind of its own.

„The restaurant was playing this one song I hated it“ he paused before shaking his head.

„I don‘t hate things, but I know that it really added to my embarassment“ he kept on rambling, a laugh escaped your nose.

„I wonder if the waitress still thinks about it, I really messed up. Yunho was laughing at me“

Yeosang shifted further into the covers. You loved talking, but sometimes even someone as quiet as Yeosang had thoughts running laps in his head.

„He still teases me about it, oh and that time I downed two bottles of soju and could not stop throwing up“ Yeosang chuckled at his own sillyness, before finally sparing you a glance. You were on the verge of passing out, but could not stop yourself from smiling.

„I don‘t even remember it, but the others do“ his palm brushed your cheek, his thumbs caressing your skin when he leaned down to place his lips onto yours. Once he pulled away, he collected his thoughts again. Until.

„But what I do remember is[…]“

tags @minkisdoll

[starlitjoong]

This is so perfect I love it

[velvetmatz]

west hollywood —k.hj (m)

⟢ a/n: we all know why i wrote this let's be so serious

⟢ summary: something about LA brings out hongjoong's evil side ;)

⟢ word count: 6.9k

⟢ warnings: MINORS RUN FOR THE HILLS | meandom!hj, denial, begging, waiting, swearing, slight choking, possessive!hj, unprotected sex (don't!), creampie, fingering

18+ THIS IS THE FINAL WARNING.

[permanent taglist]: @christinerose380 @violatedvibrators @tiramingisu @cocostar1117 @lilliesofthevalley8 @princesskatriinnaaa @starhwasx @mythicalthing @inlovewithhongjoongno1 @fixxedonmingi @deokityu @lxvmiki @rhea-sylvea @planetherk @kkitomy @sweatyracoon @ebly-bembly @fancypeacepersona @angstylittleb1tch @liightlizard @angelnameddeveraux @shesgirlfriendmaterial99 @onlyforwoosan @maliabobea15 @lovemollywho @yu5qii @minyunsan-kitten

posted: 05.01.26

· · ─────── · ⏾ · ─────── · ·

It’s been thirty minutes. 

Thirty minutes since he touched you last, since he meticulously undressed you and laid you down on the pool table next to his DJ’ing equipment. He had just finished his set, turned the camera off and checked that the recording came out alright before he packed it away in its travel case. Then, he had turned to you, waiting for him on the couch just off-screen. 

Most of the day had been spent shopping in the city, both high-end and thrift stores alike. Doesn’t matter that your boyfriend is worth millions, he still is a firm believer that thrifts can hold valuable gems of clothing that luxury ones don’t. He throws so much money at you on a regular basis, but especially in Los Angeles. The air of celebrities gets to your boyfriend like no other place in the world. It’s like his own celebrity alter ego takes over as soon as the plane lands at LAX. Suddenly you’re in a 1960’s Cadillac convertible, top down and driving through Malibu. You walk out of multiple designer stores with a member of staff carrying your bags to the car. Every five-star restaurant has a reserved, private table waiting for you. 

Honestly though, you’re just happy to be able to spend some time with your boyfriend. Chronically busy and a workaholic, it’s nice to come here and see him relax for once. You love that he invites you to the recording studios, getting the chance to watch your boyfriend work with artists he has loved for years, learning more and teaching them in return. He lets his guard down as much as he’s able to – there’s still fans he has to be careful of – and he has the chance to be authentically himself in every way. 

Including tonight. 

Everything nice and doting about him changes once the sun goes down. The celebrity ego has its own dark side, too.    

The single, overhead light makes you feel like a bug under a microscope. A spotlight that highlights everything he’s not doing to you. Something about the Los Angeles air brings out his inner rich socialite, as well as the hidden sadist within him. Every time you’re here with him, you always leave with marked skin and a renewed submission to your boyfriend.  

By the looks of it, this trip won’t be any different. 

Hongjoong’s left you alone and untouched, splayed open on this fucking pool table for thirty minutes. You glare at his hoodie, that he still hasn’t taken off. An offending extra layer that keeps him away from you. Meanwhile, there’s not a stitch of clothing, or fabric of any kind for that matter, anywhere near you. You have a sneaking suspicion he’ll float the idea of you not wearing anything tomorrow as well. 

Perv. 

He massages the back of his neck, torturing you with quiet groans. He knows what he’s doing. And yet you can’t say or do anything about it. You could, but then there’s a really good chance of not being touched or fucked at all for the rest of the trip. That threat is enough to keep you right where you are. No matter how much you want to reach for him and complain that you’ve been waiting long enough, he’ll only make you wait longer. 

One time, he fully left you for two hours, even closing the door behind him. He can and will make you wait. 

He stretches his neck and sighs, finally looking down at you again. You can’t help but whimper, a quiet plea to do something to you already. But he just smirks, electing to ghost his fingertips just above your skin. So close you can almost taste it, but not feel anything at all. It’s maddening. 

The smirk widens just a little. Enough to drive you crazier than before. 

“Shhh… stay still, love. Don’t move.” He whispers, just barely tracing your cheek with his lips and letting the warmth of his breath linger. So you’re sure to feel him even when he steps away. Bastard. 

You watch him through teary eyes, walk around the pool table and towards the kitchen. You hear a wine bottle open with a quiet pop! and he slowly pours himself a glass. Taking all the time in the world to do so. You want to cry for him to come back, to whine that you need him. But even more than that, you want to be good. So, you try to relax, your back pressing into the hard woolen felted surface of the pool table, and your tailbone digging uncomfortably into the raised side of it. 

You are so hyperfocused and yet delirious at the same time. It’s like your body can’t function properly without him. Every sound coming from the kitchen is heightened, the soft sound of a cabinet closing behind you may as well have been a gunshot. Your eyes burn and start to turn dry from being directly under the light. 

He walks back over to the pool table at a leisurely pace. Wine glass in one hand, phone in the other. He doesn’t even pay attention to you as he comes back into your line of sight. A sharp pang hits you in the chest, makes your eyebrows turn up, tears ready to fall again. 

God. When he wants to be, he can really be mean. 

He scrolls through Instagram and his messages until half of his wine is gone. He makes you watch the whole thing. 

Not soon enough, he eventually pockets his phone and takes another sip. Casual, and calm. Your breaths are short as you wait. Your whole nervous system is shot to hell by now with the amount of anticipation with no reward. But this is how it is. This is what you love. 

And he loves to see you like this, completely exposed in every conceivable way possible. Open and raw, emotionally and physically. He can watch the whole process play out right in front of him; how you gradually and inevitably fall apart. Because of him. Only for him. All of this is for his eyes only, and that might just be the best part. His darling girl, reduced to a teary, begging mess without even being touched. 

Not yet. 

Outside of these types of scenarios, he hates seeing you cry. He’s so protective of you, always making sure you’re safe and happy, and always knowing full well how much he loves you. He spoils you in everyday life. He can afford to humble you during times like these. 

Embarrassment creeps up the back of your neck as you look up at him, trying to ignore how you’re on full display. Not only in front of him, but also in front of the entire city. The sprawling, lit-up landscape of Los Angeles stretches across the view of the floor-to-ceiling windows, your audience for the night. Although, this may be the closest you’ll ever get to Hongjoong showing you off like this to people. No, this is just his. No one will ever get to see you like this. The visual of you in such a state is for his eyes only. 

But sometimes, even he likes to flirt with the idea of a whole city being an unknowing audience to your unraveling. Courtesy of one Kim Hongjoong. 

It’s starting to drive you crazy that you can’t see him. But this is part of it. The power play. A clear statement of dominance over you that you can do nothing about, apart from waiting for him to join you ‘on your level’. He’s got you so bad like this that now every time he so much as takes off his watch, you look at him expectantly, ready to do whatever he wants. Wherever, whenever. 

You take a couple deep breaths and close your eyes to calm down. Luckily, he lets you. Sometimes he doesn’t let you look away from him at all, but he allows you this small mercy for now. A small solace you find is that you can just focus on the familiar scent of his cologne. You designate that scent with safety and home. It’s one of the only things that can keep you sane throughout this ordeal. At least he’s here, in close proximity. You’d rather him be in the room with you, just barely touching you, than outside and not at all. 

A small ‘please’ tumbles from your lips, barely audible. But he hears it. He draws absentminded shapes into the felt of the table right next to your ribs. Tantalizingly close. Centimeters away from the bare minimum. 

“Hm?” He tilts his head, taunting you further. 

You squeeze your eyes shut even tighter, humiliation burning your cheeks, but he snaps his fingers twice, right by your ear, making you open them again.  

“You want something, darling?” He asks. 

You nearly explode. He knows damn well that you’re about ready to drool and pant for him like a dog. Hell, you’ll even start barking for him if that’s what will get him to touch you. Do something. You have to remember the payoff, although it’s nearly impossible while stuck in the middle of this torture. 

But if you want something, you have to ask. Nicely. 

“I want you, Joong. Please?” 

He doesn’t respond right away. He just continues drawing his little circular patterns next to you, letting his eyes travel up and down your body. Nothing is hidden from him. 

If you move your leg slightly to the left, you’ll touch him. The thought is so tempting. Just for one second of contact with him. He knows, too. He inches himself closer, silently daring you to do it. You can almost feel the fabric of his hoodie. A mix of swears and curses directed at him stays stuck in your head. You wouldn’t dare say any of them out loud. 

“‘Want me’, huh?” He echoes you with a small smile, “You don’t need me?”

Dammit. Fuck! You want to slap a hand over your mouth, as if that will erase what you said. Now you’ve done it. 

“I do need you, I misspoke, I’m sorry. Please, I need you so badly, please touch me.” You scramble to try and do some damage control. But your stupid word choice has already dictated his next actions. 

When he moves farther away from you again, you almost reach for him, desperate to pull him back, but he shoots you a deadly glare when he sees your arm twitch to do so. You go rigid again, keeping your arms glued to the table, by your side, just like he told you. Thankfully, he lets it slide. A strike one. 

There will not be a strike two. 

He walks around the table, out of your sight again, but you hear and feel him right behind you. If you crane your neck and risk a pulled muscle there, you’d be able to see him. When you feel him brush his fingers through the ends of your hair, you stop breathing. One wrong breath, too loud or too sharp could ruin it all. You refuse to even chance that happening. 

It’s unclear how long he stays there. You count the minutes by how many airplanes pass by the windows – seven – and the amount of distant police sirens somewhere down in the maze of streets – two. Your eyes threaten to flutter closed. Getting your hair played with is a well-known way to make you sleepy. Maybe that’s what he wants, for you to be caught in the middle of consciousness. It sounds like a nice place to be. You’re already halfway there. 

You’re almost drifting when his voice snaps you out of it, low and velvety right by your ear. 

“So beautiful,” he says, watching you blush. “I wanna hear my pretty girl beg for me again.” 

A small noise escapes you, half whine, half hum of agreement. You repeat your previous plea, with the correct wording this time, and pray that that’s enough to persuade him to touch you more than he is right now. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t give you any hints that you’re on the right track, getting close to what you want – or, need. 

“Please,” you try to look up as far as you can, trying to find him. “Joongie…please?” 

His hands leave your hair entirely, and you panic. 

“W-wait–!” Now you really try to crane your neck to see him, see what he’s doing. If he’s about to leave you. “Please, I’ll be good! I wanna be your good girl, Joongie, please stay.”

You can just barely see the hood of his sweatshirt, and an ounce of relief is granted to you. He’s not going anywhere. Not yet, anyway. You wait for him to say something, to tell you what you did wrong. Nothing comes. 

Instead, in the prolonged silence, that’s when his hands return. Brushing through your hair like he never left. This time, he even touches your scalp, and you freeze again. 

“Beg.” He directs again. 

But you… you are. He just asked you to. Are you not doing it the way he wants you to? You double down, being more specific. Again, you do as you’re told. You beg him in all the ways you know how. But he’s determined to push you further, deeper into near hysteria. The threat of a potential second strike looms over you, it stays right next to that damn overhead light. Tears well up, a couple of them escape past your waterline and disappear into your hairline by your ears. 

Hongjoong takes his hands away once more.          

“Beg.” 

Now you’re borderline sobbing. 

“I-I’m– hm– try-trying,” you whimper pathetically, “I don’t know what else you w-wanna hear.” 

Your hand moves to wipe your tears, but you remember his first order, given to you thirty minutes ago when this all started: don’t touch. Not you, not him. Don’t try to fix yourself. He wants to see what he does to you, how everything affects you. 

“Just beg, darling. Keep begging me.” 

And you do. For a good chunk of time that feels like eighty years, you beg him. Over and over. A warbling, incoherent, repeated ramble of pleas and promises that fall on seemingly deaf ears. He just lets his eyes wander over your body, listens to your desperation, touches you where you don’t need him. It’s humiliating. He watches greedily as a new wave of sobs wrack through you, hopeless and discouraged. And still trying. You’re almost afraid to stop. 

“Please, please, please touch me, I’ll do anything. Please, Joong, I just need you. I need you so bad, please do something.” You punctuate your begging with fresh, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. 

Hongjoong moves back around the table again, getting just a little too close to you, and the slight breeze of his movement against your core is almost too much. His gaze is fixated on how you clench seemingly around nothing, and the glistening of your lower lips under this lone overhead light. Like a spotlight. You’re the star. 

You’re his star. 

He leans over you, caging you between his arms on the pool table. He’s careful to not touch you at all though. Still. A sick part of him wants to see just how long it’ll take for you to snap. Or, if you will at all. You’re a tough little fighter. 

Your begging becomes quieter, more spaced out. Tiny hiccups of pleas flow from your lips, trying to figure out new ways to phrase what you want, new tactics to convince him. It’s just repetitive rambling, nearly incoherent and watery. You’re beginning to become completely hopeless. You doubt that he even had plans to touch you like that at all tonight. You’re just kidding yourself. It’s humiliating. 

You want to close your legs and preserve some of your dignity, but you know it belongs to him. Everything does. Body and mind, heart and soul. Any honor or dignity has already been handed over to Hongjoong a long time ago, and he ultimately decides what to do with them. Plus, if you’re wrong and he does plan on giving you what you want, and you do something to make him change his mind, that’s worse. That’s always worse. Last time you were in West Hollywood with him, that happened, and he didn’t touch you until you got back to South Korea. 

That was the worst seventy-two hours of your life. 

So, defeated, your legs stay right where they are, heels digging uncomfortably into the raised wooden edge of the pool table. Another plane goes by – eight – and you can hear a car blasting music as it crawls up the road, passing by the rented house and disappearing up into the hills. 

You look up at Hongjoong, face flushed and puffy from crying. The way he gazes down at you makes your heart flutter. There’s such a deep love for you, pure adoration in his eyes that makes the wait worth it. You know that by now, you probably look crazy, but none of that matters to him. On the contrary. To him, you look beautiful. So beautiful when you’re this desperate for him. God, he feels so lucky. 

He supposes he can be a bit nicer to you.  

A large part of his confident attitude tonight is because of where he caught your eyes straying during his set. Rarely did you look away from his hands, manipulating sound and tempo, switching the vibe seamlessly, each song flowing into the other. Ending on a remix of ‘In Your Fantasy’ was particularly diabolical, and that’s what cued you in, in terms of what awaited you tonight. A hint meant for you, shown to the entire world. 

He takes a moment to think about how nice he wants to be right now. Specifically in terms of whether or not he’ll take his hoodie off. You know all too well that he’s wearing a T-shirt underneath it, and he knows just how much you like seeing his tattoo while he touches you. Who knows what it is about it, but whatever it is, the sight of it flexing with his bicep as he fingers you makes you absolutely feral. You tend to finish quicker when his tattoo is out – which is something you think he doesn’t know.

Oh, he absolutely does. 

You’re lucky, he decides. Since he has been particularly mean, and you only have one strike against you, he’ll finally give you what you’ve been begging for all night. He sets his glass down on the edge of the table and takes the hoodie off, unzipping it and tossing it onto the floor somewhere. 

Immediately, your eyes go right to his right arm to see the tattoo peeking out from underneath the sleeve. No matter how much you try to conceal how it affects you, your body gives you away. The way your lips part slightly, eyes fixed onto it, how you clench around nothing. If he wants to really be nice, he’ll let you bite it one day. 

You’re too focused on that visual, that want, to notice that his hand is moving right towards you.  

The first touch feels like an electric shock. 

After almost an hour of nothing, feeling his touch all at once nearly sends you spiralling again. Hongjoong cups your cheek, and you can feel the cold metal of his rings cooling your skin. He shushes you quietly when you gasp, not expecting it. 

“It’s alright, my love,” he murmurs, placing a lingering kiss on your temple. “I’ve got you.” 

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut again. All you can think is: finally. Impatience is something that Hongjoong never rewards. You know that for a fact, but it’s helpful to get a refresher every so often. Even if it drives you up the wall. It’s a hard-learned lesson, one you will remember forever. 

Hongjoong ghosts his lips just above yours, hovering there for a few seconds before connecting them. Your hands ball up into fists, wishing for something better to hold onto. Like him. Your back aches for a more comfortable surface to rest on. However, you’ll stay put until he moves you. 

With the last of your focus, you kiss him back, trying your best to not come across as needy as you obviously are. There’s no hiding anything with him. 

It’s when you start to relax into the kiss that he throws another curveball. 

You gasp into his mouth at the sudden pressure against your clit. The pads of his fingers move deliberately slowly in a circular motion, quite similar to how he touched the turntable during his set. His touch is maddeningly gentle. Controlled, calm, and patient. 

He doesn’t react. He just continues kissing you, as carefree and relaxed as ever. As if he’s not working you up. Like he has no idea what he’s doing to you.  

You’ve been wet without any proper attention for so long today. His fingers find no resistance whatsoever gliding through your folds, teasing you once again by pausing right where your entrance is and then retreating back up to circle your clit. 

Whatever happened to being nice? 

Hongjoong can’t stop the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he tries to hide it by deepening the kiss. He should start playing fair, but teasing you is just too much fun. 

Once your lips part, and his tongue slips into your mouth, that’s when he pushes his fingers into you, sliding in as far as he can reach. He’s timing everything perfectly. Again, you gasp into his mouth. Your tongue puts up no fight for dominance whatsoever, you’re too focused on finally being filled. His free hand presses down on your hip. A silent reminder to keep still, to not chase. 

It doesn’t take long at all for you to get close. A low, burning heat in your stomach threatens to overpower you as two of his fingers stoke that fire over and over again. You can feel how much you’re dripping for him. It’s definitely running down his wrist at this very moment. Your cheeks burn again. The once quiet, wet sounds from your core slowly amplify, becoming an audible clue as to how affected you are, and how close you are to coming. 

“J-Joongie…” you stutter, struggling to keep your voice steady. 

He hums, already knowing. 

“Gonna cum, darling?” 

You nod, frantically. A loud moan escapes your throat as his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on it lightly. A shudder runs through you, your body on high alert to all sensations. Your nails threaten to break the skin of your palm. You can only hope he lets you hold onto him at some point tonight. 

It seems he has other plans, though. 

“Beg,” He says. The dreaded word is accompanied by a wicked grin, and a challenge in his eyes. 

You want to pull your hair out, honestly. It would hurt a lot less than this. 

Just a single word is enough to make you mentally crack, and he knows that. He can’t help himself, even when he’s being his own version of nice to you. Unbeknownst to you, he has no intention of making you wait that long again, but he loves to see the fear on your face at the possibility of that happening. He just wants to see if you’ll disobey him, try to touch him, make him stop. This is all a sick trust exercise for his own sadistic pleasure. 

He curls his fingers deep as he listens to your cries, the repeated pleas, the promises that you’ll do anything, and his favorite: how much you need him. 

“Cum for me, darling.” He purrs next to your ear, tilting his head down to watch your body shiver and fall apart around his fingers. His eyes flick back up to your face as your breathing stops, a clear sign that your orgasm is hitting you now. He drinks in every possible detail. 

You clench around him hard, calf muscles seizing from how hard you’re tensing. Still, he continues to coax his fingers in and out at a slower pace, unwilling to draw them out just yet. Despite everything, you make sure to thank him once your body starts to come down from the high. You’re truly so grateful he decided that he’ll play with you tonight, and not leave you hanging. You remind yourself to thank Los Angeles in some way as well. Whatever this city does for him, definitely works for you. 

Through the small aftershocks, he gently pulls you to sit upright, keeping your head resting on his shoulder to combat any dizziness. The two of you stay like that for a minute or two, just breathing together. 

The house is silent again. Your body instantly feels better now that it’s not up against the hard wood of the pool table, if not a little sore. Hongjoong helps you sit up on the edge, your legs dangling off the side. He steps back to look at you properly. But before he can say anything, you beat him to it. 

“Can I…?” You gesture towards the growing tent in his pants. Without finishing your sentence, he knows what you want. You may or may not have an oral fixation. Again, it’s something you’ve never fully admitted, but Hongjoong has picked up on the cues and evidence that prove its existence. 

He pauses like he’s thinking about it. As if he doesn’t already have a set plan for what he wants to do with you. 

“Maybe later,” he hints, helping you off the table. 

Once grounded on the floor again, you stand up on your toes to kiss him, but you see that his eyes are locked onto the windows to his right. You look over too, into the skyline. In the stillness of the house, and the lack of any external noise from the city, it really does feel like you’re the only two people in the world right now. 

He’ll definitely make you scream like you’re the only two people in the world. 

Without wasting any more time, Hongjoong takes your hand and pulls you right up to the window, pressing you against the double-paned glass. Your breath fogs up as you gasp, blurring your view of the city. His hand is firm and flat against your spine, keeping you pinned. With the other, he wraps it around your throat, making you tilt your head back so he can lick and bite your neck. You push back against him, feel any kind of friction possible, and he lets you, enjoying how much you clearly want him to fuck you already. 

With your back to him, you can’t see how much he clearly wants to fuck you. 

His hips dig into your ass, letting you feel how hard he is. You nearly sing, whining for him and continuing to beg without being asked again. 

“Please, Joong, please fuck me. I need it so bad.” You pout and arch your back for good measure. 

He hums, the vibration against your throat driving you crazy. “Yeah?” His hand leaves your back, reaching around to rub your clit again. “Need me to fuck you like this, darling? For the world to see?” 

A broken gasp leaves your throat, and your nails dig into the glass. “Yes–! Yes, please.” 

“Greedy,” he chuckles, kissing your neck. “You just want me to give you everything, don’t you?” 

You nod, unashamedly. Why lie? 

If he’s willing to give you everything, why not ask for it? Sure, it may sound selfish, but you’re willing to give him everything as well, and you would not even hesitate if he asked. 

He hums again, already knowing how you would answer his question. He pulls back from your neck just enough to admire the dark bruises that have blossomed across your skin. They’re beautiful. Unique. Possessive. Clear indications that you are spoken for, taken care of properly. That you submit to him, and him only. 

Hongjoong glances out the window, towards the skyline. You shudder against the glass as his fingers pick up speed and press just a bit harder onto your clit. Your knees already threaten to buckle. Then, it’s gone. 

You feel his breath, hot on your shoulder as he shoves his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. You can hear him spit on his fingers. The anticipation is actually killing you, even though he’s trying to make this more comfortable for you. You’d take him with zero prep if he ever decided to. Not that he ever would. 

The press of the blunt head of his cock is already enough to make your eyes roll back. You’re gone by the time he pushes in. Your shuddering breaths mix together as he leans back over you. He bites your shoulder when he sinks deeper, groaning as he stretches you out to accommodate him. 

“Fuck… oh god– fuck, Joong, yes.”

He may not fuck you without prep, but he rarely gives you a chance to get used to him once inside. As soon as his length is fully enveloped, he’s drawing his hips away just to slam back in. A set pace is made, and so it begins. 

“Eyes open,” he orders, gripping your hips to keep you still. “Let every fucking person in this city know who you belong to.”      

Realistically, you know with one-hundred-percent certainty that no one can actually see you from below the hills. Still, the thought and visuals are enough to make you clench around your boyfriend. Tight. You hear him snicker behind you. 

You two are so similar. 

Made for each other. 

You struggle to keep your eyes open, like he wants you to. Especially when his cock is hitting you just right, the angle making your eyes water and your voice rise in pitch. Your moans are practically pornographic, fogging up the mirror even more. The lights from the distant city begin to blur, the buildings turning into shadows against the starless night sky. The fantasy remains. 

3.8 million unsuspecting people, all being shown who you belong to. It thrills you to no end. 

The excitement of the thought is most likely borne from a confined reality of secrecy. If he could, you know Hongjoong would shout from the rooftops who his heart belongs to. Even with the lack of a dating ban, he refuses to let you be potentially targeted. He’s so protective over you, it would be his worst nightmare if you were subjected to the level of hate and torment that he has seen other idols deal with. Here, you can both pretend. Safe from view, and yet fully exposed at the same time. A shared thrill for exhibitionism created from strict privacy. 

You play into it. 

You scream his name. 

It’s something you can’t ever do back in Korea, part of why because of the aforementioned reason, and partly due to the fact that it would be rude to Wooyoung and Jongho to be so noisy in the shared dorm. Hotels and his studio are only so private. 

Here in the hills, you’re both anonymous. Another young couple with new money. 

So, whenever you’re allowed to be vocally reckless, you take the opportunity every damn time. Especially when he’s making you feel this good. 

“Feel so fucking good–” he moans, biting your shoulder. “My girl… all mine.” 

You groan into the window, trying to catch your breath to no avail. With each thrust deep inside your pussy, he damn near knocks the wind out of you. If it wasn’t for him holding you up, you’re confident that you’d be in a crumpled mess on the floor by now. 

“Say it, darling. Tell the whole fucking world who you belong to.” Hongjoong punctuates this by spitting onto his fingers, bringing them down to your clit once again, rubbing it in the same gentle, circular motion. A stark contrast to what else he’s doing to you. 

The added stimulation makes you sob. Despite the overwhelming, building pleasure, you pull yourself together as much as you can. He gave you an order. 

“H-Hongjoong, I belong to you, only you. You’re th– the only one who c-can fuck me like this,” you cry out, struggling to keep your voice from pitching up every time the head of his cock hits your g-spot. 

He straightens you up against the window, wanting you to be as upright as you can. So LA can see you fully. Your chest presses against the glass and it feels so nice on your heated skin you can’t help but sigh in relief. 

“Mhmm,” Hongjoong purrs, his breaths starting to become erratic. Less controlled. “Good girl. My good girl. Taking me so well. Fucking made just for me.” 

You nod, your cheek rubbing up and down the glass. “I-I– I'm yours…” your voice trails off as you become dumber. “‘M close…” 

At the mention of being close to coming, he presses his free hand over your lower stomach with enough pressure to be able to feel his cock pistoning in and out of you. Again, your knees weaken. The window only helps keep you upright so much, but Hongjoong doesn’t let you fall. 

“Give it to me, darling. I’ve got you.” He encourages you right to the edge. 

Your second orgasm slams into you. Your nails claw the glass and your screams echo through the house. He fucks you through it, only slowing his pace slightly while his fingers on your clit continue. He holds you close as your body shudders violently and places kisses up your back, up to your neck, until he gets to your mouth. You whimper against his lips, and he gladly swallows every noise you make as you come down. 

Less than a minute later, the pace resumes. 

You sob, so sensitive after just coming down from a second climax only to be thrown towards another so soon. 

“One more,” he says, straightening up to stand behind you. His hands reposition themselves back on your hips, pulling you back towards him to meet every thrust. “Gonna show everyone how needy you are. So fuckin’ desperate for me. Always gonna let me take you however I want.” 

His words make you whine and moan. It’s all true. Every word. 

A choked sound rises from your throat as you feel your third orgasm already brewing. There’s no escaping this, not when he knows your body as well as his own. Not when his cock is perfectly made for you to take. You can feel everything. Every inch and vein deliciously dragging against your inner walls. Not once does he miss your g-spot, hitting it every time you two have sex. And you know which buttons to press for him as well. Feeding right into his ego, being loud for him, looking up at him with doe eyes when you want something.  

The two of you are made for each other in every way. 

You cry out his name as the pleasure spikes, throwing you further into the deep end yet again. “H-Hongjoong, please–” 

“I know, darling,” he coos, his steady, calm voice the complete opposite of how brutal his thrusts into you are. 

One of his hands sneaks back around, this time going up to your mouth. Two fingers slide in, and he watches as you physically relax. You fight back a smile, and wrap your lips tight around them, afraid he’ll take them away before you have a chance to enjoy the weight of his touch on your tongue. Hopefully, he’ll let you go down on him later. The real thing is always better, and he deserves to be taken care of too. 

Right now though, your brain is actively short-circuiting. 

Hongjoong presses his fingers down, just how you like it, and you gently suck on them as he gets you closer and closer to your third orgasm. He groans, imagining your mouth somewhere else. The visual of you doing that is always enough to get him close to the edge as well. And though his fingers are stuffed in your mouth, you don’t get any quieter. You continue to moan around them, his name coming from your mouth all garbled and muffled. 

He has to squeeze his eyes shut, fully concentrating on not coming yet. Not before you do. One more time. 

Your legs shake, and your hands twitch against the window, a silent signal to him that you’re not going to last long. 

“Such a good girl… taking everything I give you,” he groans. 

He twists his other hand into your hair, pulling you back from the window, arching for him even more. The sounds of his hips colliding into your ass seem to amplify. You can feel yourself dripping down your inner thighs and you whine as the heat in your lower stomach begins to take hold of your whole body.   

“Gonna give me one more? Hm?” 

You nod frantically, noises pouring out of your mouth continually. 

“Wan– wanna cum with you,” you plead with him. You so desperately crave the combined feeling of him spilling his warm seed into you as you milk him dry, clenching around his length. 

“Yeah?” He grins, wanting the same. “Fuck, okay, darling. Cum with me.” 

All it takes is him saying that, and you’re gone. Both of you are. 

“H-Hongjoong–!” You shriek, nearly rattling the glass. If the neighbors haven’t heard you this whole time, it’ll be a damn miracle. You don’t care. You’re being given one of the best orgasms of your life by the man you love most. 

He’s not far behind at all. Once he feels your pussy spasm around him, clenching and sucking him in harder than before, it’s easy to let go. His forehead rests on your shoulder, trying to catch his breath as he releases into you. It’s just as you wanted: the feeling of his warmth pouring in. Claiming you as his. Completely his. 

He lets go of your hair in lieu of wrapping his arms around you to keep you upright, close to his chest. He still has his damn clothes on, you forgot. 

Blearily, once you know you can stand on your own, you turn around, which causes him to slip out, and you press your back against the window. He watches you carefully, ready to catch you if you lose your balance. Your hands dip under the hem of his shirt, needing to feel his skin on yours, pressing your palms into his back. He kisses you deeply and slowly. There’s no rush.   

You don’t black out or lose consciousness per se, but you don’t exactly remember getting into bed either. 

Somehow, Hongjoong was able to lead you to the bedroom without your legs giving out. Maybe he carried you. You don’t remember your feet ever touching the floor. The first thing you take note of, once in bed, is that he’s coming back in from the bathroom, equipped with a warm towel. You almost fall asleep as he gently cleans your thighs, the feeling more than soothing enough to do the trick. But you’re stubborn. You want to be present with him for as long as you can. You dread the day of the flight, upcoming and looming over your vacation. This Tuesday. Only two days away now. There are worse things, you suppose. But not being able to go through security, nor sit anywhere near him at the gate, and pretend you don’t know who he is for the duration of the twelve hour flight is as close to actual torture as you’re willing to get. He hates it just as much as you. It makes both of you antsy and irritable while on high alert. Not a great mix. So, quiet moments like these, all alone together, are cherished as much as possible. 

Tossing the towel into the hamper, he finally gets into bed next to you. Like a magnet, you instantly attach yourself to his side. He sighs contently, letting you nuzzle into him. Soon enough, you’re both tangled together in the sheets, a mess of limbs and combined heartbeats. Neither of you say anything for a long time. Cricket song drowns out any distant sounds of the city that manage to seep through the walls and windows. Everything is warm. Your worlds are at peace. 

You hear him inhale through his mouth and hold the breath captive for a moment, like he’s trying to decide how to use it. Does he break the silence by speaking, or does he simply let the moment speak for itself? An answer comes quickly to him.  

“One day, everyone will know…” Hongjoong says, almost to himself. You look up at him without saying anything, letting him continue. 

His eyes flicker down to meet yours. “Everyone will know that you belong to me, and that I belong to you.” 

If you had any energy left, it’d be spent attacking him with kisses. Everywhere and anywhere you could reach. You make up for it by throwing your arms around him properly, hugging him tight, and kissing his cheek. 

“I love you,” you whisper against his warm skin, meaning every word. Every syllable, every letter. 

This, he doesn’t make you wait for. 

“I love you, my darling.” 

[end].

[starlitjoong]

"Do I Know You?"—ATEEZ College AU

Synopsis: Freshman year of college was supposed to be your fresh start. Your opportunity to put your best foot forward. Then a familiar face you’re not too thrilled by rips that chance away. Kim Hongjoong was assigned to train you for your new job in the campus library. He was thorough, too thorough, recalling things you didn’t quite want to remember. The memories of your first love haunt you in your sleep. Will seeing him every day cause your hate to grow? Or will the feelings you worked so hard to bury erupt into a chaotic mess of storage closet makeouts and cold shoulders?

WC: ~5.8k

genres: Hongjoong x fem!reader, College AU, frenemies to lovers, exes to lovers, fluff, suggestive

warnings: weed and alcohol mentioned. slightly suggestive, no smut tho...

a/n𐔌՞. .՞𐦯: my first ever collab! A special thanks to @sungbeam for hosting the LIVE ALIVE! event. I am so grateful to be given the opportunity to create and work alongside the other amazing writers in the event. Please go check out everyone's work!

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Getting away from your small town was your only goal after high school. You didn’t care how; you just knew it would happen. Your parents wanted you to stay home for college, taking classes at the community college and helping your dad run his restaurant on the side. The thought of being stuck at home for the rest of your life knocked the wind out of you when you thought about it too hard. 

So, in secret, you applied to the furthest college you figured would accept you. Your hands were shaking as you opened the acceptance letter, tears flooding your eyes as you read the opening line. 

Dear Y/N,

On behalf of the Admissions Committee at KQ University, it is our great pleasure to offer you admission into the English program for the upcoming academic year. 

Breaking the news to your parents was the next hurdle to clear. You beat around the bush for months, trying to drop hints that you wanted something different, separate from what your small town had to offer. They never acknowledged it, always pretending not to hear you. 

So, you stopped hinting. 

Family dinner time was your one chance to get both of your parents in the same room. With running the restaurant and running your siblings around town, your mom and dad were rarely together. Except for dinner time. 

The five of you sat around the table, siblings babbling at each other, parents eating in silence. You sucked in a breath of confidence, softly placing your fork on your plate. You looked up at your parents, their expressions tired and worn. It’s like they knew what you were going to say. 

“I got accepted...” you began, your father’s eyebrow raised with interest. 

“Accepted to what, honey?” Your mother asked, eyes bright with love and affection. Knowing what you were about to say was going to break her heart stung a little. 

“I got accepted to KQ University. I’ve already accepted my enrollment and will be moving there in September.” The world felt lighter as those words left your mouth. Guilt had ridden your stomach since the moment you’d read the first line of the KQU acceptance letter. But now the truth was out, and there was no turning back. 

Your mother and father were quiet for a moment, looking at each other as if communicating telepathically. They were always good at being on the same page; it made you wonder if this was how they did it. 

“KQ? That’s on the other side of the country.” Your father responded, words slow and calculated. Immediately, you felt like a child again, being scolded for being naughty. Any response was caught in your throat as you tried not to cry; the best you could offer was a nod. Your mother sighed. 

“You applied without telling us?” your mother asked. You could hear the devastation in her voice. Even your two younger siblings have gone quiet now, idly eating their supper as if trying to avoid being dragged into this. 

“I needed to know I had a chance. A chance for something more,” you responded, your voice unsteady. “And now I know I do.” 

“What chance do you need? You have everything right here!” Your father’s voice carried anger and disappointment. You sighed.

“I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of my life, Dad. I need something new, a life to call my own.”

Your mother set her fork down aggressively, tears pooling in her eyes.

“So that's it? Are you just going to up and leave us behind? Don’t you care about us?” 

“I do care, Mom.” 

“Clearly not enough to want to leave us.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

“Fair?! Nothing in life is fair.” 

You stood, calmly, scooting back from the table so you wouldn’t anger them more. As tears spilled from your eyes, you excused yourself from dinner. 

“What’s done is done. I’m going on my own accord. You two don’t have to spend a dime.” 

Leaving the room, you made eye contact with your little brother. His gaze was fixed on you with adoration. 

___

Later that night, a soft knock sounded at your door. Quietly, as if trying not to shatter the tension in the air, your younger brother, Eric, crept into your room. 

Cuddled up tight in your bed, you turned to meet his eyes. Your own were sore and puffy from crying, and the need to cry came again as you saw him. 

He gently sat next to you, eyes scanning across your room, looking for things to talk about. A quiet settled between the two of you, one you both sought when an argument happened in the family. He spoke first. 

“So you’re really leaving, huh?” He asked, voice small as if saying it meant it was real. And that was the case. 

“Yep. Mom and Dad can’t expect me to stay here forever.” You answered, sitting up slightly. He turned to you with sad eyes, looking like a kicked puppy. 

“Why don’t you want to stay? Do you hate us?” The innocence in his voice stung like a knife to your heart. You felt the tears slip. 

“What? Don’t say that. I could never hate you.”

“Then why don’t you stay?” 

You let out a slow breath before pulling him into a hug. He let you, when normally he’d push you away. 

“Sometimes, you don’t need to listen to what other people tell you to do. I can’t stay here and have the life Mom and Dad set for me. I need to figure it out for myself.” 

“But you’ll come back, right?” He asked, voice muffled as he burrowed into your shoulder. You smiled. 

“Maybe. You guys can always come visit me, too. My school is right by the beach, and we could build sand castles all summer.” 

“That’d be fun…” The sound of his voice trailed off. “I’m going to miss you. Who will be here to pick Hana’s and my outfits for school?” 

“I think you’re old enough to handle your outfits for school. Since I’ll be gone and you're the oldest, Hana will have to trust your fashion sense.” You giggled, reaching to tease your brother. He laughed, pushing you away with all his might. 

“Oh God, she’s going to kill me,” he groaned, flopping onto the rug on your floor. You laughed, tossing a plushie at him. 

“I’m sure she’ll live.” 

“Barely.” 

You two remained silent for a bit, words hanging in the air. The quiet between you two was unmatched, which is why you both went to the other when times were hard. Together, the world fell silent. 

“For the record, I don’t hate you or Hana. Or Mom and Dad,” You said quietly. Your brother nodded. 

“I know. It just felt like it in the moment.” He responded. 

“Good.”

___

Move-in day came faster than expected. You had shipped everything to your school the week prior, so all that was leaving the house was you, a backpack, and a carry-on suitcase. Your walls were bare, closet wiped clean. Things you no longer needed were put in a donation bin to be taken by your father on his way to work. 

The drive to the airport was quiet, tension wound tight. Your father’s eyes stayed on the road, your mother’s gaze far and unfocused. Hana and your brother talked like nothing was happening, but Eric leaned into you as if he moved, you’d disappear right then and there. 

Hana and Eric both gave you tight hugs before you walked into the airport. Your mother, with tears in her eyes, wrapped you in her arms for what felt like the final time. 

“When you change your mind. Home is right where you left it,”

Of course, she didn’t believe in you or your decision. 

Now it was time to prove her wrong. 

___

The plane landed with no issues. Stepping foot on campus felt like a fever dream; to think that you’d finally achieved your freedom. Surprisingly, you ended up in a single dorm room, meaning you had no roommate. Could this get any better? 

Syllabus week came and went, and you had finally gotten used to your schedule and independence. Despite not having a roommate, you’d made friends with some girls down the hall. They came over sometimes after classes to chat. 

You’d become a regular at the university library, and Mrs. Kang let you stay after hours with her while she closed up. Eventually, you became a library assistant, which was a bonus because now you had a source of income. 

Things were looking up. 

Your first day on the job came with looming anxiety, which was odd because you had nothing to worry about. You knew the other assistants, one of them being Sara, a junior who first introduced you to Mrs. Kang. 

But still, something felt off. 

You walked behind the circulation desk and set your tote bag down by the rest of the staff’s belongings. Mrs. Kang greeted you with her usual warm smile. 

“Ah, Y/N. I’m so glad you're an assistant of mine now.” She said, her voice full of admiration. She gestured toward the back hallway. Her hand rested gently on your shoulder as you walked. It reminded you of your mother. The two of you made small talk before stopping in front of a door labeled “Recording Studio”. The window into the room was blocked by blinds drawn tight. Mrs. Kang read your curious expression, laughing lightly to herself as she knocked and opened the door. 

“I have someone special to introduce you to.” 

The inside of the studio was dark, with the blue hue from the computer screen illuminating the wide array of machinery available for use. You’d never seen anything like it, except for one only slightly similar back in high school. This here, this was the real thing. 

“Y/N. I’d like you to meet Kim Hongjoong. He’ll be training you,” Mrs. Kang spoke, turning the lights on. The overhead fluorescent lights revealed a brown-haired boy staring at the computer screen, eyes fixed on the software like he was hypnotized. Mrs. Kang clicked her tongue, walking over to rip the headphones off his ears. 

“Yah, have you lost track of time again?” She scolded. The brown-haired boy turned, eyes darting to you as he formed a response to the old librarian. 

Suddenly, it felt like the world started spinning. There was simply no way. 

Not here.

Not now. 

Even after everything it took to get away? You thought you left that part of your life behind. Apparently, it had followed you here. 

Kim Hongjoong sat just a few feet away from you. His eyes burned into your soul as that stupidly handsome face of his processed what just happened. He looked older now, more defined, like the time you’ve spent apart had molded him into some mature and sharper version of the Kim Hongjoong you once knew. Once loved, even. 

His lips parted slightly, words dying in his throat as he tried to grasp the situation. Then, he spoke. 

“..Y/N?” 

The way he said your name made your heart twist and writhe. It always had that effect on you. Mrs. Kang looked between the two of you with confusion. Before she could speak, words fell from your mouth.

“... Do I know you?” Your words came out unsure, your throat suddenly dry from this ambush. Hongjoong’s eyes flashed from surprise to something deeper, gaze remaining locked with yours. You desperately wanted to look away, but it had been months since you last saw his face. You weren’t quite ready to give that up again. 

Like in some cringeworthy movie, memories of the two of you flashed through your mind. 

Late-night calls. 

Burnt CDs. 

A promise to stay whispered like a secret too sacred to tell. 

And the night he left, saying it was too much. He needed to find his own way. 

That night broke something in you; maybe that's why you’re here now. A thousand miles from home with no real plan. You try not to think about it too hard. 

“Uh. No, sorry. You just look like someone I used to know.” He responded, voice laced with something heavy. You nodded, swallowing any emotions you might’ve been feeling. Remembering the two of you weren’t alone, you broke out into a smile, turning to face Mrs. Kang as she watched the scene unfold. She smiled back. 

“Hongjoong-ah, Y/N is training to be an archive assistant. You’ll be training her on everything she needs to know.” She instructed before walking out the door. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, still too stunned to speak. His eyes were scanning you up and down, like he was trying to find the answer to a hypothetical question. You grew restless, waiting for your so-called trainer to train you. 

“So, are you gonna show me around at least?” You asked. Your tone sounded snarkier than you’d like, but it got his attention. His eyes refocused, and he stood from his chair with a deep sigh. 

“Right. Follow me, I guess.” 

The two of you walked in silence. It used to be silence that comforted you, but now it riddled you with a fiery stomachache.  

“Okay,” Hongjoong huffed, stopping in front of the desk by the main entrance. “The front desk system is pretty user-friendly. You’ll mostly be renting and returning books to students when needed-”

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” You asked, cutting him off. Hongjoong was taken aback; he hadn’t realized it, but his gaze was fixed anywhere but on you while you were staring right at him. He stammered, eyes meeting your intense gaze. He swallowed thickly. 

“I– uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He gestured toward the computer, walking you through the system before letting you have some practice. He pretended to check out a book, and you walked yourself through the process. 

While you were looking through the system, Hongjoong’s gaze lingered on you more intently this time. Your hair was cut differently, and you’d grown into your features more. You were even more beautiful than the last time he saw you, if that was even possible. 

It took everything in him not to reach out to brush the strand of hair that had fallen in front of your face. His fingers were twitching with restraint. He knew better; you might just bite his hand off if he tried. 

“Y/N.” He spoke before thinking. 

You glanced up from the screen, face flushing when you saw his expression. Why’d he have to be so handsome? 

“What?” 

“Are we not gonna acknowledge it?” 

“What are you talking about?” Playing dumb felt safest. It wasn’t. 

“Y/N.” 

Something in his voice changed, igniting a fire in your heart as you tried your best to stay strong. 

“Stop that.” You muttered, swiveling the chair away from him. He turned the chair back, holding it so you had to face him. Your breath hitched.

“What?” He asked, low.

“Can we please just ignore it?” You said, voice tight. “Please?”

“Ignore what, hm?” he pressed, pulling the chair closer. “The fact that we’ve known each other since kindergarten?” 

“The fact that we-”

“Stop.” 

His jaw clenched as he saw your expression. It hurt to think about your history, especially when you spent so much time trying to bury it. 

“Don’t do that,” he said, voice soft as if trying to convince himself of something too. 

“Do what?” 

“Act like a stranger when you know we’re not.” He clarified. You sighed.

“Maybe you are,” You muttered. He chose to ignore it. 

“I never thought I’d see you again, Y/N.” 

“And whose fault was that, Hongjoong?” You shot back. 

His expression changed immediately. 

Finally, you acknowledge it. 

“It’s whatever, Hongjoong. What’s done is done.” Drawing the line felt like the only way to keep yourself from exploding. “Now, are you going to show me everything else? Or should I figure it out myself?” 

His eyes lingered on you for a beat before he closed his eyes with a sigh. It seems there's no use in trying to force the conversation now. 

____

As the weeks went by, Hongjoong found every way to get on your nerves. 

It started small. 

“You shelve from left to right,” Hongjoong nagged, reaching above your head from behind to grab a book. “Alphabetical by author’s last name first, then title.” 

“I know,” you answered, refusing to spare him a glance. “I’ve been to a library before.” 

There was always a pause afterward. Like he was calculating something. Then, he’d go in for the kill. 

“I know. I remember we’d spend hours in the library on weekends when you wanted to avoid the restaurant.” 

Every sly comment would be followed up with a gut-wrenching memory. He weaponized it, knowing that each time he did it, you were closer and closer to breaking. 

He wanted so badly to coddle you and apologize each time he did it. He knew it upset you. But, in his mind, there was no other way to get close to you. 

You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath so you wouldn’t cry. 

“I don’t need to be babysat, Hongjoong.” 

“I’m not babysitting you.” 

Now you face him. His chest flooded with warmth as you stared at him with genuine aggravation. Anything for you to make eye contact with him 

“Then why are you hovering?” 

“I’m supposed to train you.” 

“Yes, train me. Not teach me shit I already know.” The way your eyes rolled as you spoke sent Hongjoong’s heart into overdrive. The harsh tone you took with him sounded like a symphony in his ears; he’d piss you off all day if it meant you talked to him. 

He huffed out a laugh, feigning nonchalance as he minorly rearranged the books you’d just shelved. You shot him a look. 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart.” 

Oh, you were going to strangle that man. 

______

Sometimes, though, Hongjoong made it hard to be angry. 

Midterms came faster than expected. Countless nights were spent studying until the light of the rising sun caught your eye through the window. It’s been a while since you got more than a couple of hours of sleep a night. 

“You’re staying late again?” Hongjoong called, pausing as he made his way out of the studio. It was about time to close up for the night, but you wanted to use the library ambiance to keep you awake. 

“Yeah. If I go home, I’ll fall asleep.” You mumble, pen practically on fire as you scribbled notes in your notebook. You figured Hongjoong had left without saying goodbye, given the silence, but a few minutes later, a warm cup of coffee was placed gently beside you. Shuffling next to you, Hongjoong plopped down into a chair. He brought out his laptop, plugging in wired earphones as he got to typing away. You allowed yourself to stare at him when you thought he wouldn’t notice. Eyes tracing the slope of his nose, watching the way he mouthed to himself and bit his lip with focus. Hongjoong had small dark circles under his eyes, signalling the last few nights haven’t been easy for him either. 

“I got you hazelnut flavor. Not sure if it’s still your favorite, but worth a shot.” 

You practically jumped out of your seat. Hongjoong’s eyes remained on his screen, while he held up the coffee he had set down earlier. He extended it to you, sneaking a glance out of the corner of his eye. 

Damn, he's good. 

Slowly, you took the cup from his hand, fingers grazing one another. You felt a shock of electricity jolt through you as his fingers slipped away. It’d been a while since you felt the warmth of his hands.  

“Uh.. Thanks.” You said softly, pulse spiking under your skin. He offered a small smile before turning back to his laptop. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” His voice was barely a whisper. “You should really sleep more; it's got you looking like a zombie.” 

There it is. 

You shoved his shoulder, clicking your tongue. Why ruin a good moment? 

___

“So you’re coming tonight, right?” Minjae, a boy from your Business 101 class, asked. You looked over from the bookshelf to see him leaning on the column. You cocked your head in confusion. 

“Where am I going?” 

“To the party? I invited you and Sara on Monday. ATZ is throwing,” He said, stepping closer to lift the stack of books you had out of your hands. 

“Hmm, I don’t know Minjae. I have a lot of work to do tonight.” 

“C’mon, you always have work to do. Just one night.” 

In the distance, a certain brown-haired boy was watching the two of you. Hongjoong’s jaw clenched as he watched you laugh at something Yoon Minjae said. Why couldn’t you laugh at his jokes like that? 

Bidding goodbye to Minjae, you made your way to the front desk. Hongjoong was waiting, pretending to sift through the returned CD bin. You plopped down into the desk chair with a heavy breath, swiveling to stare at Hongjoong while he worked. 

“I can feel you staring.” He called, pretending that his chest wasn’t twisting at the thought of your gaze. 

“How much stuff do we have to get through tonight?” You asked, trying to seem uninterested. He laughed. 

“Why? So you can go get drunk and flirt with Minjae tonight?” He taunted. His voice was laced with a f hostility that scared you. Jealous Hongjoong was never one to mess with. 

But you felt like playing. 

“Why are you so salty?” You asked. You twirled a pen through your fingers. Hongjoong walked over, leaning on the desktop as he looked down at you. He smiled devilishly; it made your heart race. 

“Not salty. Just wondering if you're gonna actually do it, or just flirt with him right in front of me,” he answered smoothly, his tone chilling. 

“Why does it matter if I flirt with him or not?” 

“You know why.” 

The two of you locked eyes for longer than you have in months. The room went quiet as you read each other's minds, communicating telepathically. Or so you thought. 

“Y’know. Maybe I will go to that party. Wouldn’t hurt.” Grabbing your bag, you began to walk toward the exit. 

“Careful, sweetheart. It just might,” Hongjoong called out. 

____

God, it’s so loud in here.

That was your first thought the moment you stepped inside the ATZ frat house. 

You immediately regretted your decision to come here tonight. 

“Oh, Y/Nnie, don’t chicken out now!” Sara yelled in your ear as she dragged you through the crowd. Stopping in the kitchen, you were handed a red cup filled with foul-smelling juice. It tasted like hand sanitizer going down. After enough cups, you stopped noticing the taste. You and Sara conquered the dance floor, Minjae spinning you both around cheerfully. You were worried he’d turn out to be a creep, but he just seemed to be having a good time, too. 

As you were twirling around to the music, your eyes caught his stare from across the room. You paused, mind going blank as you processed your thoughts. There, Hongjoong stood in the corner surrounded by various members of ATZ, nursing a red solo cup of his own. His stare was intense, intentional, like he’d been watching all night.

Suddenly, the music became too loud, and the dress you had on started to fit uncomfortably. This was a bad idea. You needed to leave. 

“Y/N. Are you okay?” Minjae asked, hand cupping your shoulder. You shrugged him off, yelling over your shoulder as you stumbled away. 

“Just need some air!”

You made your way to the front lawn of the frat house with as much ease as a baby deer. You stumbled, almost tripping every other step. You leaned against the huge oak tree out front, trying to collect your thoughts as your head spun. 

“Three drinks have always been your limit, huh?” A voice sounded. You perked up, turning slowly so you wouldn’t fall. 

“You’ve been watching me, huh?” You slurred, head lying slack against the tree. Hongjoong's eyes met yours, except this time you couldn’t read his expression. 

“Of course. Guess things never change,” He said. Hongjoong pulled out a joint from who knows where and put it to his lips. He held out his lighter to you, as if to ask you to light it for him. You took the lighter with shaky hands, flicking the flame over and over. 

“Can you walk me home?” You asked, voice small, tired. He blew out a cloud of smoke, ensuring it strayed away from your face, then nodded. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.” 

The two of you walked in silence; you kept bumping into his shoulders; you were never good at walking straight. The cold autumn air nipped at your exposed skin, and even with alcohol coursing through your veins, you still shivered. Before you could blink, Hongjoong’s leather jacket was draped over your shoulders, the scent of his cologne (and a tiny hint of weed) engulfed your senses. It made you want to cry. But forcing your emotions down, pulling the jacket tighter around yourself. 

“Even after all this time, parties still aren’t your thing,” Hongjoong said, not to you in particular, but as if stating it to the world. 

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Do you remember Seonghwa’s 18th birthday?” 

Hongjoong smiled, reminiscing about that night, which was oddly similar to this one. It was the night you told him you loved him. 

“I remember you being absolutely sloshed because Wooyoung gave you 3 cups of jungle juice.” He teased. You nudged his shoulder. 

“In my defense, he said it was juice,” you defended. 

“Yeah, I should’ve stopped you.” His voice dropped, tone laced with regret. 

“Because you know me so well.” You joked. 

“I do.” 

You paused, turning to face him. You were so close you had to crane your neck to look him in the eye, but he met your gaze with no issue. Your eyebrows furrowed. 

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not?” 

“Because you left,” you said, eyes welling with tears. “You ended things and left for your freshman year without even telling me where you were going.” 

Hongjoong’s chest tightened; he regretted that mistake since the moment it happened. 

“You don’t get to act like you still know me after that.” 

He sighed. 

“I’m saying I never forgot you.” He said, hands flying up to stabilize you. You didn’t realize you were wobbling. His hands were warm around yours. 

“There wasn’t a moment I didn’t think about you. I thought about calling home every night to hear your voice. But I figured you hated my guts…” 

“And I guess I was right. “

A single tear slipped down your face as you watched his eyes twinkle in the late moonlight. He looked at you like you were the only star worth admiring. It stung. 

“I was so mad at you,” you admitted. “I still am.” 

“I know.” 

“I tried so hard to hate you.” Your voice was nothing but a whisper now. “But even after all this time..” Hongjoong didn’t say a word; in fact, he was holding his breath, scared that if he breathed, you’d shrink away again. 

“I still love you, you dick.” 

Your words hung heavy in the air. The quiet night echoed your words, and you realized what had just happened. 

“I didn’t mean to say that,” You stammered, stepping back from him. He followed, mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find the words to say. 

“Yes, you did.” 

“Stop it.” 

“I was convinced you hated my guts this entire time. You can’t just drop that and walk away.” Hongjoong pleaded. You shook your head violently. 

“Watch me.” 

“I’ve loved you this whole time, Y/N!” He exclaimed. His voice was loud enough to wake the nearby dorms. “I love you so much, it hurts when you’re not around.” 

“So then why’d you leave?” You pressed. Tears were streaming down your face at this point. Hongjoong went quiet because you already knew the answer. 

“The same reason you left and came here.” He said slowly. “I didn’t want to be stuck there forever.” 

“Even if I was stuck with you?” 

“Y/N-” 

“No. Nevermind. I’m going back to my dorm.” 

“Y/N-” 

“Goodnight, Hongjoong.” 

You stalked off into the night. You still had his jacket wrapped tight around you as you climbed the stairs of your building. It took everything in you not to look back, because you knew he was watching you. 

You weren’t sure you’d be able to stand strong when tears were in his eyes, too. 

______

Hongjoong had become such a part of your daily schedule that it was hard to avoid him. You’d see him in different buildings during class hours. And he was always in the recording studio by the time you clocked in at the library. There was no point; anywhere you went, he was always there. 

“Y/N” 

You kept clicking away on your laptop. 

“Hey.” 

He loomed over you. His frame casting a shadow that sent a chill down your spine. You stood, weaving around him and through the bookshelves. He followed suit. 

“Wait- Y/N!” He called. You kept walking. You could hear his footsteps getting closer; he wasn’t giving up. You weaved your way to the back hallway, pushing past a cart filled with unorganized books, and you aimed for the supply closet door- 

A hand caught your wrist. 

“Let me go, Hongjoong. I’m working,” you said quietly. 

“No.” his voice was rough and stern. 

Alright, guess we’re doing this. 

You turned slowly, eyes meeting his. He looked tired. Not physically—emotionally. Like he hadn’t slept. Like something had been sitting heavy on his chest for too long.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“I’m busy.”

“You’re lying.”

You scoffed, trying to pull your hand free.

He didn’t let go.

“Hongjoong.”

“Don’t walk away this time.”

Your chest tightened. The two of you were quiet for a moment, unsure of how to continue. 

“You said you loved me.”

The words landed between you. Heavy. Unavoidable. Hesitation consumed you, your gaze flickering away.

“I was drunk.”

“Not enough for it to be a lie.” 

He always had an answer to everything. 

“You don’t get to decide what I meant.”

“Then tell me.”

Silence. Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.

“I meant it,” you snapped. “Okay? I meant it. Happy?”

The hallway went still. Even the air felt like it stopped moving.

“But that doesn’t change anything,” you continued, your voice wavering despite yourself. “You still left. You still chose to walk away, and I had to deal with that alone.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, pulling your hand free this time. “You don’t know what that did to me.”

“I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you.”

You froze.

Slowly, you looked back at him.

“…Then why?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“Because I did,” he said. “Because I loved you too much, and it scared me.”

Your brows furrowed.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know,” he admitted. “It didn’t make sense then either. I just—” he shook his head. “You were younger. You had your whole life ahead of you, and I felt like if I stayed, I’d… hold you back. Or mess it up somehow.”

“So you thought leaving would fix that?” you asked, disbelief creeping into your voice.

“I thought it would hurt less,” he admitted. A hollow laugh escaped your throat. 

“Yeah?” you asked. “And did it? 

“Not in the slightest.” His honesty knocked the air out of your lungs. “I thought I could just move on,” he continued. “Get a job out here, make a life for myself. Try and forget your beautiful face.” 

“But you didn't.” 

“No.” There was a pause. “I couldn’t.” 

You stared at him, eyes scanning his face as if you looked away, he’d disappear. He could tell you were thinking hard. 

“I’m not asking for everything to go back to the way it was,” Hongjoong explained, his hand finding yours. You reluctantly intertwined your fingers with his. “I just can’t pretend this is nothing anymore.” 

The boy standing in front of you now was not the boy you’d hated for the last year. Instead, it was the boy who knew how to read you better than anyone else. Just a boy asking for a chance to make things right this time around. 

“I won’t believe it till I hear it,” you said. His head cocked in confusion. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Say it.” 

“What?’ 

“Say that you love me, or I’m walking out that door and never coming back.” 

“Wow, okay drama queen.” 

“HONGJOONG.” He smiled, hands wrapping around your waist. He pulled you close, holding you tight so you don’t slip away. 

“I love you, Y/N. More than you know.” 

You closed the distance first, hands gripping the front of his shirt as your lips met. Warmth flooded over you as the familiar sensation of his lips invaded yours. It was familiar and overwhelming, and entirely desperate. Like you’d both been waiting for this moment for far too long. 

Hongjoong backed you up until your back met the door of the supply closet. He broke your kiss for just a moment, swinging the door open and pulling you inside. 

Your lips crashed against one another once more. The kiss shifted from sweet and desperate to messy and needy. You simply couldn't get enough of him. Hongjoong’s hands traveled around your body, squeezing your waist as if trying to ground himself. Your hands found purchase at the nape of his neck, pulling lightly at his brown, luxurious hair. He groaned slightly at the pressure, pushing your head to the side as he kissed his way down your neck. He left wet and heavy kisses on your collarbone, kissing harder with each noise you made. He felt like he was on cloud nine, energy coursing through his veins. 

You pulled at his hair again, harder this time, to drag his eyes back up to yours. He smiled at your blissed-out face, lip gloss smeared on your lips. He bent his head down, placing one soft peck on your lips. 

“You’re still an idiot, by the way,” you murmured, hands sliding up to cup his face. He nestled into the palms of your hands, eyes never leaving yours. 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “But I’m your idiot.” 

You rolled your eyes, laughing at his playful tone. You tugged his face closer, foreheads meeting gently. You closed your eyes. 

Maybe you didn’t know the Hongjoong who was holding you now. But this time, you had the chance to learn him all over again—and this time, he wouldn’t walk away. 

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱𝄞⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚ the end~!

Thank you for reading! Please check out everyone's work in the master list <3

[moooonandroses]

AS iF | cjh

synopsis: You and Jongho can’t stand each other, but the universe didn’t seem to catch the signals. Everywhere you went, he was there. Friends teased you both, saying you liked each other so much that you were manifesting each other everywhere. Ugh, as if you would ever like him, right? w.c: 9.1k~ genre: enemies? to lovers?, forced proximity (kinda), smut, college au warnings: swearing, misunderstandings, alcohol consumption, throwing up, no use of y/n, semi-public sex, unprotected pinv (jinjja don't do it friends), creampie, thick-cock jongho (yum), a little bit of dirty talking, nicknames (sunshine), praising, plsplspls let me know if i missed anything! a/n: this is my humble contribution to the amazing live alive collab! thank u thank u thank u sm @sungbeam for hosting this amazing event! i met such amazing people through this and i will be forever grateful for having joined<3 this fic is literally my child and the longest fic i've written in my whole life so i hope u love it as much as i do. <3

SMUT BELOW THE CUT MINORS DNI.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

The morning was already doomed from the start. 

You were woken up by the voice of your roommate, waking you up before the loud slamming of the door when she left. 

Sleep drained from your body instantly as your blurry gaze landed on your phone's screen, the clock reading “8:53 AM”. “Shit!” You jumped up from the mattress, limbs tangling in the sheets in the process, before you managed to actually get up from bed. 

Within minutes, you were sprinting down the hallways, clothes haphazardly thrown onto your body in the middle of your rush. A string of curses made their way out of your mouth as you neared the study hall, the screen of your phone screaming at you, saying that it was already 9:02 with big ass numbers. You hoped that Mr. Yoon was slightly late as always, and he wouldn’t close the door in your nose. Your steps slowed once you neared the classroom, not wanting to further embarrass yourself by showing up completely breathless and disheveled. 

“Ah, Ms. L/N.” Mr. Yoon clicked his lips with his hand on the door handle of the classroom. “You’re lucky today; had you been five seconds later, you’d be staring through the window.” He moved out of the way to let you in. The crimson in your face was obvious, and it instantly drained when you saw the only seat available in the whole classroom.

Since when did everyone show up to this class?

“Morning, sunshine. So graceful of you to grant us your presence.” You sucked in a deep breath as you sat down on the chair, counting to ten mentally while trying to align every chakra in your body to not punch him square in the face in the middle of the classroom.

“Ugh, shut up, Jongho. I’m in no mood to deal with you,” he snickered at your words, watching you glare at him, finding you cute even while snapping at him. 

“Come on, what happened to you? Rough night? Were you up all night thinking about me?” The mere thought sent shivers down your spine, a grimace on your features as you took out your study material. 

“Please, as if I would ever.” You snorted slightly, shifting your entire focus to the class that was already starting, so that you could earnestly ignore him. 

The class went by smoothly, Mr. Yoon talking about the different types of property law while you took notes, focused on his words. A small crease between your eyebrows appeared while you read some cases the professor had mentioned, which Jongho found devastatingly adorable. Still, he was never going to admit it out loud. 

“This project is quite important for your grade,” Mr. Yoon continued explaining once the time for the class’s end was nearing, moving over to his desk, picking up his glasses, and setting them low on his nose before picking up a piece of paper with some letters scribbled on it. “It’ll run all semester, and you will do it in pairs.” He emphasized, looking over the rim of his glasses at his students.

He began reading names off it, a groan dying at the back of your throat when you realized he had chosen the pairs, bummed that you probably wouldn’t be paired up with one of your friends. Your ears perked up when you heard your name, body still as you waited for the next name to be read off the paper. 

“...Choi Jongho,” he finished reading, making your blood run hot, and your eyes roll as Mr. Yoon calmly took off his glasses and set them on his desk with the piece of paper. “You will all work together, during the duration of this assignment, and before any of you ask, no, you may not switch partners at any point. You’re adults, and you should learn to work with people you don’t like.” You bit back a groan as you threw your head back, already feeling irritated at the thought of being stuck with Jongho, even more, for the rest of the semester. 

“You’re all dismissed, have a good day.” Mr. Yoon swept his hair back and began gathering his things, most of the students scrambling out the moment the words left him. You continued gathering your things, shoving them down into your bag. 

“See you soon, sunshine.” Jongho slung his backpack on one of his shoulders, shooting you a small smile that only made you roll your eyes.

“Hopefully not, Jongho.” You stood up, walking past him as you hung your bag on your shoulder. Leaving him there, with a small smile on his face as you walked away. 

Ugh, you’re so endearing sometimes. 

The following week had been pure suffering, as you would describe it. You and Jongho, stuck in the library for hours on end, slowly making progress on your project. It was a personal hell of yours; you were sure you would end up with wrinkles by the end of the semester, given how much scowling and grimacing you were doing at him. 

“No, Jongho. That’s not the way we’re supposed to do it.” You argued, pointing to the document containing the project's instructions. 

“Yes, but this way it’ll look better, and the professor will be satisfied either way,” he argued back, sliding his own laptop where the shared document was. You sucked in a deep breath, a hand coming to scratch the back of your head, asking every god to give you patience, because if they gave you strength, you might strangle him.  

“That makes no sense, Jongho. Just do it the way the instructions say.” Your hand slid down to rub your temple. The clicking of his tongue reached your ears, and you sighed. “Do it.”

“Fine, no need to get feisty, sunshine.” he lifted his hands in mock defeat, running one of them through his soft black hair. 

This was going to be a long semester. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“I just can’t believe he paired us together, Woo.” Your eyes rolled, leaning your head on Wooyoung’s shoulder while you walked around campus. 

“Relax, it’ll be over before you notice,” he ran a hand through your hair. “Besides, what could be so daunting about working with him anyway?” he quirked a brow, curious as usual. 

“He’s just an asshole.” Your own brows creased, nose scrunching at the same time. “And he should leave me the fuck alone.”

“I never really understood what happened between the two of you.” Wooyoung shrugged, “You went on like one date, and then you came back hating him…Wait, he didn’t do anything to you, right?” His steps stilled immediately, his brows furrowed in concern as his hands wrapped around your shoulders to still you. 

“No, and it wasn’t a date. And I never liked him; in fact, I hate him.” Wooyoung frowned, as if his face was saying, Seriously? “What?” his hands lifted off your shoulders, holding them up and shrugging. 

“Nothing, I just don’t really remember you hating him.” The blood rushed to your cheeks, one of your hands coming to shove him, as a way to shut him up. “In fact, I remember you running around your room, not knowing what to wear.” 

“Well, I do.” Your voice was firm, rolling your eyes as you continued walking towards the library. 

Ms. Lim, the librarian, had hired you as her assistant, or at least one of them. She kept mentioning the past couple of days that a new person was coming to help you out, and they were just sorting out their schedules. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your brows creased at the sight of Jongho, two hours early from your scheduled meeting at the library. 

“I can come to the library, you know? This is a public study space.” He arched a brow, barely sparing you a glance as he walked past you. 

“You? Studying? Please. You'd need neurons for that,” you scoffed, matching his step as he neared the empty front desk. 

“Where's Ms. Lim?” he ignored your words as he leaned on the wood, his thick-rimmed glasses sliding slightly down his nose. 

“Not here, clearly.” You rolled your eyes at him, walking around the desk and setting your hands on the wood. “What do you want, Jongho?” You cocked your head to the side, clearly unamused by his presence in your otherwise peaceful and quiet library. 

“She asked me to come here, I’m helping her out as one of her assistants,” he pointed his words with a small smile, cocking his own head to the side. 

“You're kidding.” 

“Nope.” 

“Well, you're fired, thank you very much.” You shrugged, turning to the computer, clicking the mouse around, and tapping at some letters on the keyboard, pretending to do something. 

“Uh-huh. Where is she?” he pressed, leaning forward over the desk just a little bit more, trying to peer into the screen of the monitor. 

“Out.”

“Let me guess, you’re one of her assistants too, huh?” He ran a hand through his hair before using his pointer and middle finger to slide his glasses up his nose, a small smile curling his lips, apparently, finding your despair amusing. 

“I’m her only assistant, you’re fired. Remember?” Your smile was nothing but fake, but it only made Jongho’s heart skip a beat. It had been so long since he saw your crescent-shaped eyes looking at him while your plump lips curled in that sweet smile you had. 

Jongho just nodded, “Sure.” He walked around the desk, throwing his backpack beside yours on the floor, and rested his hands on the thick wood. 

You were for sure going to strangle him soon. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Okay, you have to tell me.” Wooyoung looked at you through the mirror, fixing his own clothes. 

The cool air was seeping through the windows as you both got ready for a frat party you usually didn't go to, but Wooyoung had convinced you that you needed to let off some steam. 

“Tell you what, Woo?” you looked at him through your own mirror, arching a brow as you rummaged through your makeup. 

“Why you hate him, Sushi.” he turned to look at you, the damn nickname he had given you in high school after a much-too-passionate discussion about that very same type of dish, making you crinkle your nose. 

“Don't call me that.” Your eyes rolled as you stretched your back, turning to look back at him, too. “And I already told you, I just do.” 

“What happened on that date?” He pressed, hands falling to his sides as he walked to sit down on your bed, the mattress dipping below him. 

“Wait…Did you go on a date with Jongho?” San asked, stopping his mindless scrolling on his phone as he inched closer to his boyfriend, resting his blonde head on Wooyoung’s lap. 

“It wasn't a date. See what you're doing?” You hissed at Wooyoung. “You need to drop it already.” Your eyes rolled for the umpteenth time as you turned back to the mirror and finished your makeup. 

“I just want to know what made you hate him so much all of a sudden, Sushi. That's not something that happens just because.” He pressed once more, being met with your glare through the mirror. His hands lifted in surrender as he pulled out his phone, deciding not to push your buttons more. “You're going to the pre-game?” 

Your brow arched through the mirror. “What pre-game?” Wooyoung whined as he dropped his head back. 

“The pre-game I told you Sannie, and I are hostinggg.” He dragged out the syllable as he looked at you. “We're getting drinks and playing the bottle game.” 

“The bottle game? What are we, in seventh grade?” You scoffed as you sprayed setting spray on your face. Your eyes opened again to see Wooyoung deadpanning. 

“I don't even know why I try with you anymore,” he sighed, deflating and checking his phone. “C’mon, babe. Hwa hyung, Sullyoon, and her girl are on their way to the apartment.” He nudged San's head with his hip, prompting him to get up. “See you later, Sushi. Don't be a wimp and go to the fucking party, or I will come back here and drag you out.” He blew a kiss into the air as he and San walked out of your room. 

A sigh left your lips as the front door slammed shut. You turned around, eyes falling flat on the bear plushie you kept in your bedroom for a reason you didn't know yet. You walked towards it and wrapped your hands around it. 

“You should know that your father is an idiot.” You talked to the lifeless animal, a crease in between your brows. 

Because Wooyoung was right, you didn't hate Jongho without reason, and you did go on a date with him. 

But those were simpler times. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Sushi, relax.” Wooyoung mindlessly scrolled on his phone, giggling as you took clothes out of your closet like in a classic coming-of-age movie. 

“How can I relax? He's coming in an hour, and I still don't know what to wear, Woo,” you whined as you continued rummaging through the scattered clothes. 

“He’s Jongho, he'll still think you're cute with whatever you wear.” his half-assed reassurance only made you roll your eyes while pulling out a shirt and some pants. You held them up, a silent question aimed at him, and his face lit up, nodding immediately at your suggestion. 

Once the outfit situation was sorted, you continued getting ready, quickly pushing Wooyoung out the door before Jongho was supposed to arrive. 

“Call me after! And use protection!” He cackled as you pushed him out the door, blood rushing to your cheeks as you slammed the door on his nose, running back to your room and checking your phone to see if Jongho had texted. 

jjong♡ : i just saw wooyo lol jjong♡ : u can come out whenever ur ready sunshine jjong♡ : ill wait for u 

Your heartbeat drummed in your ears, and heat pooled in your cheeks as you checked yourself out in the mirror one last time before coming out of your house. Smiling as you saw him standing outside your apartment, his thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he ran a hand through his grown-out red locks. 

“Hey.” You cringed immediately at your choice of words, nose crinkling as you locked your door shut behind you, a soft blush in your cheeks as you walked over to where he was leaning on the hood of his car. 

The beautiful black of the Bronco catching the light and making it bounce on him, making him look absolutely dreamy. 

“Hi, sunshine.” Your cheeks burned at the nickname. “You look beautiful today, too.” He smiled, walking over and standing beside the passenger door, opening the door for you whenever you were ready. 

“Thanks, Jjong.” A shy smile ran your features as you got in his car, hands instantly coming to smooth the fabric of your jeans once the door closed, exhaling a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding while Jongho walked around the car, a hand running again through his half-red locks almost instinctively. 

“So, the plan for today is coffee and then visit the fair downtown, ‘s that still okay with you, sunshine?” He asked while turning on the ignition of the car, his voice sweet as honey, making you shiver with nerves and excitement. 

“Yes, that sounds really nice, actually.” And with that, the car came to life with a soft but steady hum of the engine, all of the lights turning on for a couple of seconds before the unnecessary ones turned off. 

Jongho began driving, making quick and simple conversation with you, telling you about how Yeosang kept turning off all of the lights in their apartment before turning them back on again, and then turning them all off again. And you both fell into such a nice rhythm of conversation that you didn't notice his hand slightly snaking down until he covered your own that was limp and relaxed beside your thigh, palm to knuckles as he rubbed absent traces along your fingers. 

You both ultimately decided to skip the coffee shop and go straight to the fair, as the sunset was nearing. Once you arrived and the soft hum of the engine stopped, you took off your seatbelt and turned half of your body to open the door, stopping yourself when you heard the door slam beside you and saw Jongho almost jogging as he rounded the car, quickly opening the door for you. 

“Thanks,” the heat in your cheeks was obvious, but if anyone said anything, you'd attribute it to the cool November air. 

“You're welcome, sunshine.” He bowed his head jokingly, the nickname that had started as a tease almost becoming more popular than your name in Jongho's vocabulary. 

The rest of the afternoon was a fever dream. Jongho was nothing but a gentleman, remembering little details you had previously shared with him, like the kind of drinks you liked, the kind of games you enjoyed, and whether you liked plushies or not. Which is how you ended up with a small bear in between your arms, smiling as you kissed Jongho's cheek shyly, thanking him for winning it for you. 

“How’re you gonna name him?” He offered his arm for you to loop yours around, a soft smile on his lips when you did just that. 

“Hmm…” Your index finger flew to your chin while you pondered. Pink tinging your cheeks as you thought of the perfect name. “Jjongbear.” A full-on belly laugh escaped you when you saw his bewildered expression. 

“I'll allow it only because you're adorable.” 

For you, this was just the beginning of a beautiful relationship you and Jongho would have. 

You didn't expect it to end so fast. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The loud music boomed in your chest, slightly wincing at the sea of people dancing in the frat house. You made your way to the kitchen immediately, needing alcohol to run through your system as soon as humanly possible. You and Jongho had been working together for almost two weeks now, not only on your shared project but also as assistants in the library, and you weren’t sure whether you were going to finish the semester or be jailed for manslaughter. 

“Ugh, you should’ve been there, Sushi. Mingi came out like he had been pulled out of that closet by the dick.” Wooyoung cackled as he arrived, wrapping his arms around your hips and resting his chin on your shoulder. “I give them an hour, tops, and then they’ll fuck.” He unwrapped himself from you and rounded the table, grabbing an empty Red Solo cup so that he could pour his poison of choice for the night. 

You giggled at his choice of words, chugging the drink you were nursing in your hands. “They probably will, and you’ll probably leave me for Sannie too.” Your top lip pursed in mock disgust. Wooyoung almost choked on his drink, fighting off a loud cackle. 

“Probably,” he smiled smugly, raising his cup into the air before taking a sip, the burn of the alcohol sending shivers down his spine before groaning out like an old man, making you giggle. 

“What are you staring at, bro?” San’s voice made Jongho jump out of his skin, startled and embarrassed to be caught red-handed. 

“I-I’m not staring.” He answered with pink cheeks as he swirled the cold beer bottle in between his fingers, tracing absent-minded lines in the condensation of the dark glass.

“You –a hundred percent– are,” San stated matter-of-factly, looking in the direction Jongho had been, a small smile curling his lips once he noticed he was staring at you and Wooyoung. “Ah, I see. The one-sided love.” 

Jongho’s cheeks burned at his words. “Shut up.” He took a swig of his beer, hoping that the cool malt drink would calm the heat in his cheeks. “She looks good tonight.” He shrugged. Suddenly, the rest of the ingredients and the calories displayed in the half-wet tag on the glass were the most interesting thing in the world. “And it didn't used to be one-sided.”

“You look amazing tonight.” Wooyoung's words made you blush, hiding your face behind your cup while you took a sip of the liquid. “That skirt makes your ass look great.” 

“Wooyoung! Don't you have a boyfriend?” You laughed, looking over your shoulder, feeling eyes on you. 

“I do, but I’m also your best friend, so I'm entitled to tell you those kinds of things.” He shrugged, extending his hand for you to take. “Come, let's dance. Maybe you'll end up abandoning Sannie and me tonight for someone else.” He poked your cheek, pulling you out of the kitchen once your hand wrapped around his. 

You continued looking around, feeling a pair of eyes looking at you from afar. Once your gaze fell on a particular set of chocolate-brown eyes, your top lip pursed in dislike. “Ugh, why is he staring?” You nudged Wooyoung, voice loud over the music filling the room. 

“Because you look hot,” he looked in the direction you were discreetly pointing towards, a smirk curling his lips once he saw his boyfriend approaching your so-called nemesis for life. “And so does he.” 

Your brows furrowed, trying to catch a clearer glimpse of how Jongho looked, something that didn't go unnoticed for Wooyoung. “H-he looks like an idiot.” Your gaze cowered almost immediately, walking through the crowd and settling on a small space that housed both of you. 

“A hot idiot.”

“Fuck off.” 

And with that, the night went on. Jongho felt his heart thrumming in his chest, heat burning beneath his skin, thoughts racing, cursing whatever it was he'd done to upset you so much, wishing he had never done it so you could be his. 

He wished it were him dancing with you, his hands wrapped around your waist as you enjoyed yourself, admiring how the lights bounced off your skin and the way your clothes hugged every curve of your body. He was jealous of the people who could be by your side right now, dancing with you, making you laugh, giving you drinks. 

He hated them. 

He hated them all. But what he hated the most was that you weren’t his

It got to a point where he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t care if you hated him more after. 

He noticed them before you did, two sets of eyes ogling from the other side of the party, —he believed their names were Jay and Jake, as his faces seemed familiar from the frat he tried to join last semester, before it all went to shit with you—  He saw them, their eyes raking over your body as you continued dancing without a care in the world, a soft sheen of sweat covering your skin making it shine under the lights. 

Jongho’s jaw was tense, he knew there was technically nothing he could do to stop them. He wasn’t your boyfriend, shit, you didn’t even like the man. But still, he couldn’t stop himself when he saw the way you turned to talk to them; eyes glassy, lips parted slightly, and a soft smile that made him clench his fists until his knuckles turned white. 

“Are you Jongho’s coworker?” The two tall men beside you asked, crowding your vision and your space. 

“Tsk. I’m nothing of Jongho’s.” You were quick to answer, your brain feeling fuzzy at the edges from the alcohol. “We do work together, but I’d rather get shot in the hand than be anything more.” Your words earned you some roguish smiles from the two guys, one of them leaning —a little too close— for you to hear him over the speaker. 

“So that means you’re alone tonight?” His breath fell on your neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your gaze shifted, looking for Wooyoung, who was about three feet away, lifting his glass as if he were saluting. 

“Mayb—” 

“Hey, man. Didn’t think I’d see you both here.” Jongho’s voice made your stomach churn, the smirk on your lips falling into a displeased frown as you turned around to face him. He dapped up the two guys, —whose names you had yet to learn— completely ignoring your scowl and the guys’ awkwardness as they slowly walked away a couple of seconds later. 

“So not only do you never leave me fucking alone on campus, but you also have to bother me at a party?” You chugged whatever was left in your cup, not even feeling the burn in your throat anymore. 

“You didn’t see the way they were looking at you, sunshine. I’m just trying to look out for you.” His voice was low, only for you to hear. “Come, I’ll take you home. You’re hammered already.” He extended his hand, prompting you to take it. 

“You’re wrong.” He wasn’t. “And I’m not going anywhere with you.” You tsked before you hiccupped and slurred your words, turning your back on him. “And stop fucking calling me that, I’m not your sunshine anymore.” You turned back quickly, your head spinning given how fast you moved, and then you left, walking away to find Wooyoung. 

He didn’t chase after you because you were right. 

But that didn’t mean he was going to stop looking after you, making sure you were safe from a distance. He saw you find Wooyoung, wrapping your arms lazily around his shoulders, surprising him. He saw the smile on Wooyoung's lips that mirrored yours, and his jaw clenched. He felt jealous, not of Wooyoung, of course, but of the fact that he could make you smile like that, without a care in the world, like he used to do. 

He saw you, dancing, drinking even more, and it was a miracle the beer bottle he continued nursing in his hands hadn’t burst, given how hard he was gripping it. “Just go over there, man.” He jolted at Hongjoong’s words, looking at him with furrowed brows. “How long are you gonna wait ‘till you do something? Or are you just gonna let her hate you without apparent reason for the rest of your life?” Jongho was stunned into silence. Hongjoong was always a very straightforward person when tipsy. “I’m tired of seeing you mop around for her because you’re not man enough yet to talk to her.” 

“It's not really that easy when she doesn't even want to hear about me.” Jongho hisses out, jaw set as he kept looking in your direction, eyes narrowing when he saw Wooyoung stepping away and leaving you to dance with a random dude. 

“Well, if you never man up, you'll lose her, bro.” Hongjoong tapped his shoulder with slightly more strength than needed, making him take a couple of steps forward to keep his balance. Jongho breathed out a long sigh, taking in the words of his hyung. 

Meanwhile, you were having the time of your life.

If you weren’t hammered before, you definitely were now. Alcohol ran through your veins, your brain felt fuzzy, and your body felt lighter than it should ever be. You felt a pair of hands on your hips, a crotch brushing on your ass as your body moved to the rhythm of the music. You felt multiple eyes on you, but you didn't care, not when you felt so at ease and relaxed for the first time in a while. 

You heard some words being whispered against your sweat-slick skin, although you weren’t really sure of the owner of the voice or even what they were saying; your focus was on the music and on the lightness of your body. You felt a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away and all the way out of the party, the cool midnight breeze hitting you immediately. 

“Hey!” A sharp voice echoed behind you, making the person who was pulling you out stop for just a moment. “The fuck are you going?” Wait, you knew that voice. Even in your fuzzy state, you would recognize that voice anywhere.

Jongho.

“I’m just taking her home, man.” A strange voice beside you replied, tone uneasy as if they had been caught red-handed. You turned to face the stranger with furrowed brows, trying to make out who this person was. 

“Tell me her name.” Jongho’s tone was sharp like a blade, his fists clenched at his sides as he watched the man beside you scoff, almost bothered by his intervention. 

“Why do you care? You her boyfriend or something?” The stranger tightened his hold on your wrist slightly, making you wince in pain. Even in your drunken and fuzzy state, you realized that you did not know the man holding your wrist right now, forcing your hand out of his grasp quickly, making him stumble a little, definitely not expecting you to do that. 

“He is.” Your words slurred, and Jongho’s breath got knocked out of him. The crease of his brows eased, and his lips parted in surprise, all words dying in his throat at your drunken words. “Get the fuck away f’me, I don’ even know you.” You stumbled your steps towards Jongho, who was quick to escape his trance and meet you in the middle, catching you right before you tripped on your own feet. 

“Whatever, bro.” The stranger scoffed and walked away, leaving you there, with Jongho’s hands around you, avoiding your imminent fall. 

“Let me take you home, sunshine.” Jongho’s voice was almost pleading. He hoped you would remember calling him your boyfriend in the morning. His heart was doing somersaults in his chest, even though he was well aware it was a lie, and you would probably never see him that way again. 

“Leave me alone, Jongho.” You pushed him away, scowl on your face. “I jus’ said that shit so he’d leave me alone.” You admitted, your slurred words hitting him square in the chest. “ ‘m not gonna be stupid enough to fall for you again. And I’m not your fuckin’ sunshine!” You hissed out, swatting at his chest. “You will never be my boyfriend, Choi Jongho, I hate you!” You spat out in anger, heavy tears rimming in your eyes as you continued swatting his chest. 

“I’m not leaving you alone in the street, let me at least find Woo-” 

“I don’t need your fuckin’ help, bro! I need you to fuckin’ leave me alone!” You stumbled backwards, making space in between your bodies. Perhaps your words were being too harsh, but then again, you were drunk, and you didn’t exactly have that voice in your head that made you think before you speak. 

Because if you weren’t drunk, you would’ve seen the effect your words were having. Random people eavesdropping and whispering about what you were saying, Jongho’s ears red from humiliation, and a small flicker of hurt in his eyes. And the worst part? Jongho thought you probably wouldn’t even remember. 

“Hey, there you–” Wooyoung came out of the frat house, hair messy — as if someone’s hands had been tangled in his red locks— and out of breath, wincing instantly when he saw the scene. He quickly shortened the distance between you and rested his hand on Jongho’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. We’ll take her home.” His voice was low enough for the dark-haired man to hear, and as if he was summoned, San appeared behind his boyfriend, giving Jongho a reassuring nod.

Jongho sighed out, long and deep, before nodding and turning his back on the friend trio, walking towards his car, leaving you safe with Wooyoung and San, which was all he cared about, really, that you were safe.

Shortly after he left, and Wooyoung and San managed to get you inside an Uber, you arrived at your apartment with hot, thick tears running down your face. Babbles and sobs were the only things coming out of your mouth as your friends tried to change your clothes and get you to bed. 

“C’mon, Sushi.” Wooyoung cooed while rubbing your back with one hand, the other one holding your hair up as you emptied the contents of your stomach in the toilet. “We got you, it’s okay.” He reassured, offering you a glass of water after you were done. 

You were going to wake up like shit. 

And not only because of the headache you were for sure going to have, but because you will remember. 

You had never been the “black-out” type of drunk, no matter how much you drank. Which meant you would remember, from the moment you affirmed that Jongho was your boyfriend to a complete stranger, to the moment you berated him in the middle of the street, up until this moment, of you, lying in bed awake, far more sober than when you arrived, thinking about how he looked at you.

How his eyes shone when he heard you slur out those two words and stumble towards him, and how he looked at you like you had fucking kicked his puppy once you two were alone. 

You had your issues with the man, but why did seeing his face like that hurt your chest so much? 

No, no, he’s Choi Jongho, the man you swore you would hate until the last of your days. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 

The library had finally quieted down after a particularly awkward shift. Ms. Lim was out sick and had tasked you and Jongho with managing the library for the couple of days she’d be out. 

As if dealing with Jongho on a daily basis wasn’t enough, Ms. Lim had decided to fall sick, leaving you with the man you had publicly berated outside of a frat party while drunk, had a complicated history with, and couldn’t seem to fucking escape.

“Ready to close up?” Jongho’s tone was slightly nervous; this was the first time in the whole day he was trying to make conversation, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. 

You barely spared a glance at him as you pointed to the “returned books” cart behind you, —overflowing as always— while you continued typing away at the computer. “We also have to work on Mr. Yoon's project.” Your tone was barely there, words sharp as you barely paid any attention to him. 

“Yeah, right.” His gaze avoided you like the plague. There was a strange feeling stirring in your chest. Were you sick?

“Get rid of the stragglers so that we can work on that and I can get out of here.” You ordered, and he nodded, kindly approaching the couple of students that remained in the library with their heads buried in books. 

You paid no mind to him, only side-eyeing him every couple of seconds. Just to make sure he was actually getting rid of the people so that you could get out of here, of course. But a particular interaction made you turn your head to see better. 

Most students were gathering their things and leaving the library just as Jongho had politely asked them to, but he had approached a table occupied solely by a girl with a soft crease between her brows that eased when Jongho tapped his finger on her shoulder lightly. You couldn't hear what they were saying to each other; you could only see Jongho’s soft smile and her cheeks blush, and you scowled. A small giggle of hers reached your ears. What was so fucking funny? 

“If you're done flirting, the library's closed.” Before you could stop yourself, your feet had led the way all the way to a couple of steps beside Jongho, making him turn to you wide-eyed as the girl's cheeks burned crimson and she began gathering her things quickly. “You and I still have shit to do, c’mon.” You pointed your head to the side, motioning towards the front desk. 

“Have a g-good night, you two.” The girl shyly nodded before slinging her bag on her shoulder and leaving the library with quick steps. 

Once the heavy oak slammed shut, you turned around, walking towards the light switches, turning the overhead lighting off and leaving just the dim lighting of the hallways between the bookshelves. Jongho was quick to follow you, with his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What the fuck was that?” He followed you all the way back to the front desk, watching you pick up your laptop and some papers, your shoulder brushing his as you walked past him towards the law bookshelf, where you both normally sat on the floor to make progress on your project. 

“What the fuck was what?” The strange feeling kept stirring in your chest; perhaps you were coming down with something. You carefully left your things on the floor, not meeting his gaze as you browsed for one of the books you wanted to use for your project. 

“Don't play stupid. I wasn't flirting with her, I don't even know her.” His hands flailed around, trying to catch your attention as you kept looking around the bookshelf for the book. “I don't even know why I am explaining myself to you, ‘s not like you're my girlfriend or something.” 

“Please. As if I would ever be stupid enough to be, don't make me laugh.” You finally turned to face him, closer than you'd expected to be. You took in his expression, a flicker of hurt passed through his eyes, but it was quick to turn into frustration. 

“What the hell is your problem?” He took a step closer, voice low as his eyes searched for yours.

“You are! You have been my problem, all semester long, and you will be until it’s over!” You took a step closer to him, your eyes shooting daggers into his. 

“You react as if you’re not a pain in my ass yourself!” He snapped, taking one step closer. Your breaths mixing at the closeness. You scowled, your eyes bouncing back and forth between his eyes, taking in his beautiful chocolate orbs, the crease in between his eyebrows. 

You knew it now, you were jealous. 

Seething with jealousy, that is. By the way he just made a simple conversation with that girl, making her laugh and blush, just like you used to at his words. Was it just that easy for him? 

“How am I a pain in your ass? You're the one who won't leave me the fuck alone!” Your voices were much louder than they needed to be, thank god you cleared the library before. You couldn't live with the embarrassment and the afterthought of having yelled at him in public twice. 

“You're the one who's acting like a child all of a sudden!” His nose scrunched, now–black hair falling over his forehead after his hands ran through his locks in frustration. Your eyes were locked on his, his chocolate orbs dark with fury and something else you couldn't describe yet. Jongho was exasperating, but up close, he was breathtaking. 

His tan skin glowed in the golden lighting of the library, his plump, pink lips slightly parted. Your eyes traveled back up to his, realizing his own gaze had traveled down to your lips. The knot between his eyebrows had softened, his eyes staring into yours with an expression you didn’t have time to name, because when you noticed, his lips were on yours. 

His lips tasted of honey, and a pent-up frustration you felt deep in your bones. Your hands had fisted his shirt near the midriff, scrunching up the fabric, while his own hands had tangled in your hair, softly tugging at the unruly strands that wrapped around his fingers. 

Your heartbeat was drumming in your ears. You hated Choi Jongho, right? 

Why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you want him to?

The familiarity of his lips against yours didn’t ease the tension in your shoulders, muscles on fire at how strained they were. Your lips parted, and he took it as an invitation to slip his tongue in your mouth, a soft moan reaching his ears, making him shudder. 

Seconds after, the kiss broke, a small trail of saliva connecting your lips while you both looked at each other with parted lips, wide eyes, and shallow breathing. “Whatthef—” is all you could get out before his hands slipped from your hair and cradled your jaw, interrupting every thought you had. 

“Tell me you don’t want this.” His eyes searched for yours, “Tell me you don’t want me, tell me you hate me, and I’ll leave and leave you alone once and for all.” His tone was almost pleading. You could feel the slight tremble in his hands, the almost imperceptible hesitation in his voice. 

I do, I hate you. Were the words you wanted to say. Instead, they got caught in your throat as your lips crashed into his once more, hands balling up the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him flush to you. “I want you.” You whispered on his lips, and while the rational part of you was screaming at you in your head, the part of you that thought with your heart was dancing in glee. 

A soft sigh of pleasure left his lips, doubt slipping away from his mind as you kissed. His hands began roaming your body, softly squeezing the flesh at your waist, as if trying to ground himself, an effort that proved futile as a small moan rolled off your lips right into his, making his pants feel tighter than they already were. 

His lips began trailing down your jaw, stopping just above your pulse point, and leaving small open-mouthed kisses in the skin as your hands wrapped around his midnight locks, softly tugging at the roots. 

Jongho’s hands sat low on your hips, his hold dizzying as he continued leaving small kisses all across your neck and collarbones as much as your shirt allowed him to. “J-Jjong…” your soft mewl reached his ears and travelled all the way down to his cock, twitching in his pants at the sound of the nickname. 

A soft hum rumbled deep in his chest as he leaned back, quickly removing your shirt in a swift motion, his eyes travelled through your torso, admiring the way your skin basked in the soft amber hue of the library lighting. You cowered, hands slowly coming up to cover yourself, “No, no. Don’t do that, c’mon.” Jongho wrapped his hands on your wrists, letting your shirt fall to the carpeted floor beneath you. “You’re beautiful, sunshine.” His velvety voice sent a shiver down your spine, letting your hands fall to your sides as you felt the heat creep up your neck. 

Your hands reached to tug on his own shirt, the black fabric wrinkled after your frantic hold on it. He helped you take it off, his own cheeks burning once the fabric fell somewhere on the floor. Your eyes widened, taking in his figure, his golden-bronzed skin glowing in the library’s low lighting. He wasn’t precisely toned, but his body was admirable, making your gaze linger for much longer than it should have. 

The kisses became more frantic, desperate. While a shy hand palmed him over the fabric of his pants, a not–so–shy one sneaked behind your back to unclasp your bra, his cool hands covering the skin of your breasts once the fabric fell to the rug, sending shivers down your spine as he kneaded the sensitive skin and rolled your nipples with his index and middle finger, small moans rolling off your lips. You couldn’t believe you were doing this to Choi fucking Jongho, the man you swore to never see with eyes that held something other than hatred, and in the fucking library. You just hoped that there weren’t cameras. 

Most of the clothes were quickly discarded, and now you had your legs wrapped around Jongho’s waist, his hands splayed on your thighs as his lips swallowed yours in a dizzying kiss, your hips rolling every so often, your core, only now covered by your panties, meeting the tip of his cock, still covered by the fabric of his boxers. 

Soft mewls and whines rolled off your lips as the friction became overbearing, feeling the all-too-familiar coil in your belly tighten, “Jjong, p-please.” You almost didn’t recognize your voice as you begged, Jongho looking at you with a fucking smirk curling his lips as he took a step forward, your back meeting the cold wood of the bookshelf. One of his hands snaked down between your bodies to be able to pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, the tip hitting your clothed core in a way that had you feeling like a livewire. You looked down and—

What. The. Fuck. 

What an absolute fucking of a monster cock did he have. Not only was it above average, but it was thick. So fucking thick that you were almost certain he was going to split you in two, but your mind was far too gone to care. 

Jongho’s lips curled in a full-on grin, “You’re staring.” 

“You’re fucking huge.” 

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” He let out a small giggle while pulling your panties to the side, rubbing his fat cock across your folds, making you whine. Asshole. 

He gathered enough slick onto his shaft to push inside slowly, a cry leaving your lips as you felt the stretch, his cock quite literally splitting you into two. “You’re a good girl. You can take it, right, sunshine?” The nickname you had come to despise in your daily life made you clench around him, forcing him inside just a little bit more, pulling a groan out of him. 

“Sh-ut the fuck up.” A broken cry came out as he continued pushing inside, your head falling back and leaning into the old wooden shelf. He popped a brow at you, rolling his hips a little bit more, making you moan loudly. 

“Such a good girl and such a filthy mouth.” He tutted as his hips continued rolling, sliding in and out slowly. He wasn’t even all the way in yet, and you already felt like you were about to explode. 

He bottomed out, and a loud groan rumbled deep in his chest, a cry reverberating through your vocal cords as you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix in a way that had you seeing stars behind your closed eyelids. 

“J-Jongho…fuck. Move,” you moaned, eyebrows knitted in pleasure as you tried rolling your hips into him. Head too far gone to think about what you were doing. 

“Look at you, taking my cock so good after telling everyone you hate me.” He fucking cooed, and you clenched around his cock. He began pulling out as much as he could while still holding you up in his arms, and he slammed back into you.g

Your moans quickly filled the quiet, empty library. The obscene sounds reverberated in the wide space as Jongho continued slamming into you, wet, slopping sounds reaching your ears as you held on to the bookshelf for dear fucking life. 

Jongho felt the muscles in his thighs on fire, and the position was becoming unbearable. Much to your dismay, he pulled out, and you whined, your breathing shallow as he steadied you on the floor, your knees buckled, your stance stumbling as your feet touched the rug beneath them. “What—” 

“Lie down.” He instructed, and you popped a brow, obeying reluctantly. So picky, is what you thought, but all complaints died on your throat as he slammed into you the moment your back was touching the rug. His cock kissed the tip of your cervix, the delicious stretch making you dizzy in no time. Your belly tensed, feeling him deep in your womb as his balls slapped against the skin of your ass. 

“Jong-ho, ngh— fuck…” You babbled, tears rimming your eyes as his hips snapped inside you mercilessly. He leaned down, the angle pushing his cock impossibly deeper as he took one of your tits in his mouth, suckling your hardened bud, nipping occasionally at the soft skin that surrounded it. You heard his low groans of pleasure, moaning as he rammed into you. 

One of his hands snaked down between your bodies, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts, “Cum for me, sunshine. Cum ‘round my cock.” He popped off the sensitive skin of your chest with a wet pop!. His tone was laced with lust, your walls constricted around him, making him drop his head on your shoulder. Your fingers wrapped around his hair, black, unruly strands pointing in all directions, while some of them stuck to his forehead, a soft sheen of sweat covering you both, loud moans, groans, and babbles filled the space, both of you clearly enjoying the moment. 

Your limbs were wrapped around Jongho’s as your lips crashed onto his, and your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, legs tightening around his thighs, fingers pulling at his roots, and the cry of his name dying on his lips. His rhythm grew sloppy, frantic as he looked for his own release, the hand that was circling your clit coming up to rest beside your head, holding him up. Your lips swallowed his punched-out groan as he filled you up, thick, warm ropes of cum painting your insides without a care in the world. 

Post-nut clarity hit you like a bitch. After Jongho slipped out of you and rolled to your side, breathing shallow as he stared at the ceiling, your heartbeat started thrumming in your ears. The haziness dissipated quickly as if a cold water bucket had been poured over you the second your orgasm subsided. 

You had sex with Choi Jongho. 

You sat up quickly, blood rushing to your head and making you feel slightly dizzy. Your hands splayed on the floor behind you, holding you upright as you caught your breath. You looked over your shoulder, seeing Jongho with his eyes closed as he brought a hand to his chest, trying to calm his own breathing. Your eyes danced over his body, admiring the way his honey-skin, lightly covered in sweat, shone in the dim lighting. You willed yourself to look away before your gaze dared to trail any lower. 

You had sex with Choi Jongho. On the school's library. 

You began gathering your clothes, quickly getting your panties that had been hastily discarded while you changed positions and pulling them up your legs, grimacing at the sticky feeling between them, quickly pulling your shirt over your head, and standing up, catching Jongho's attention, who opened his eyes to see you half-clothed as you rushed through the hallway looking for the rest of your things. 

“What is it?” He asked while popping a brow, confused. 

“What? You expected me to lie down and cuddle with you after fucking in the library?” You cocked a brow of your own, finding your pants and sliding them up your legs, prompting Jongho to begin dressing himself as well. 

“You can't be serious.” He scoffed as he watched you begin to gather the papers that had fallen forgotten on the floor as he slid up and buttoned his pants. “Are you just going to fucking leave? That's what you do best, right?” He bit out, picking his shirt up from the rug and putting it on. 

Your head turned so fast you swore you gave yourself whiplash. “What's that supposed to mean?” Your brows knotted, offended as you continued half-assedly gathering the papers, only this time your focus was fully on Jongho. 

“You just leave and act as if nothing happened, then go around telling everybody you hate me.” He huffed as he spoke matter-of-factly, crouching down to pick up his thick-rimmed glasses that had been thrown onto the floor at one point.

The sound that came out of you sounded more like a laugh than a scoff, and your head shook from side to side as if what he had said was the most ridiculous thing ever. “You act as if it wasn't your fucking fault that whatever we had broke.” 

“What does that even mean!” He knelt beside you, tone rising as his frustration bottled up again, close to exploding. 

“You think I don't know what you said to Soobin and Yeojun at that fuckass party over at TXT last semester?” Your voice rose too, bouncing off the walls of the empty hallways filled with books. 

“Wha–” 

“I heard you. Telling them you were only trying to get me to your bed and that I was already halfway there.” You bit out, turning your attention back to the papers on the floor, biting the inside of your cheek to avoid the tears pooling in your eyes. 

Now it was Jongho’s turn to feel as if a cold bucket of water had been dumped on him. Heat rose all the way to his ears, crimson covering his cheeks as his head cowered, teeth clamping over the inside of his cheek at your words. You weren't exactly right, but you also weren't wrong. 

“It didn't happen like that.” If the silence of both of you hadn't filled the space, his words would have probably gone unheard, given how low his voice came out. “But I was an idiot, I was so invested in getting into that fucking frat that I let those two idiots talk shit about you, and I didn't do anything to stop it because I thought no one was hearing.” Your eyes met his, and his gaze softened at the sight of your teary eyes and quivering lower lip. 

“I'm so so fucking sorry.” He said your name as his head fell forward, the sound of your own name out of his mouth surprising you. “Even if no one was around to hear, I should have said something.” He wasn't excusing himself; you could actually see how fucking sorry he was, and your heart ached. “If I could take it back and never have you hate me, I would do it in a heartbeat.” His words, followed by your name, made a stray tear run down your cheek, a small sniffle making him lift his head, his own eyes teary as he met your gaze. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” Your voice came out shaky, broken as another tear fell down your cheek. “Yet.” Jongho's brows furrowed in confusion. “I never really stopped liking you. I was just too hurt to want to do anything with you.” You explained with a soft blush in your cheeks. 

“I'll fix it.” He declared, pushing his glasses up into his hair and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “We just fucked on the library's floor for fuck’s sake, I'm not just letting you go.” 

Maybe. Maybe you didn't hate Choi Jongho as much as you thought.  As if you would have ever thought things would ever go like this.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 

taglist: @redemptions @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @atinyiri @RottingFictive @motheraiya @urfavleobiscuit @addi-3

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[starlitjoong]

SO PEAK

[starlitjoong]

Finally finished my collab fic holy moly. Just gonna edit it then post later tn :3

[ch3rryk00k]

Needy

Warnings/Themes: Established relationship, switch dynamics, needy and vocal Wooyoung, desperate oral (giving and receiving), face-sitting/riding, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, light teasing, heavy praise and affection, consensual honeymoon-phase intimacy, explicit smut.

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x reader

Word count: 1.5k+

Summary: In the middle of her intense study session, Wooyoung’s overwhelming neediness turns a quiet evening into a heated switch of power—where his desperate hunger leads to her taking full control on the very chair where she was trying to focus.

——

The apartment smelled faintly of the dinner Wooyoung had spent the afternoon perfecting—garlic, sesame, and the warm comfort of home-cooked bulgogi that now sat untouched on the kitchen counter. He had tried everything. Breakfast in bed that morning, a perfectly timed lunch delivered with a kiss, and now dinner, plated beautifully with her favorite sides. But she was buried in textbooks and notebooks, highlighter in hand, earbuds occasionally slipping as she muttered formulas under her breath.

They had only been together a little under a year, yet every day still felt like the honeymoon phase. Touches lingered, glances turned into smiles that made his chest ache, and the smallest separation felt like too much. Wooyoung thrived on her attention; he needed it like air. And today, with his day off, all he wanted was her.

He had checked on her at least a dozen times. Each visit started hopeful—“Baby, come eat with me?”—and ended with her gentle but firm push: “Just a little longer, Woo. I really need to finish this section.”

The last time, he didn’t even ask. He simply sighed loudly from the doorway, dramatic as ever, before padding into the small study nook she had claimed. When that earned no reaction, he dropped to the floor beside her chair like a kicked puppy, knees drawn up, hands resting innocently in his lap. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he stared up at her, waiting.

Nothing.

A louder, theatrical sigh escaped him. Still, her eyes stayed glued to the page, pen scratching steadily.

He shifted, scooting closer until he could rest his cheek against her thigh. The soft fabric of her loose skirt brushed his skin. For a few minutes he stayed still, breathing her in, the faint scent of her body wash and the warmth radiating through the material. But stillness had never been Wooyoung’s strong suit.

He huffed. Puffed out his cheeks. Whined low in his throat. Sighed again, dramatic enough to shake his shoulders.

His fingers found the hem of her oversized shirt, slipping underneath to trace lazy circles on the soft skin of her stomach. She squirmed, gently batting his hand away without looking down.

Undeterred, his touch wandered lower, skimming over her thigh, fingertips dipping just beneath the edge of her skirt.

“Wooyoung,” she murmured, a warning wrapped in affection. “Not now. I told you—I need to focus.”

“But I miss you,” he whispered, voice already edging into that needy register she secretly loved. “Just fifteen minutes, sweetheart. Please?”

She didn’t answer, though her pen paused for half a second.

He took that as encouragement. With a soft, determined sound, he slid further down, maneuvering until his face was level with her lap. Warm lips pressed to her knee, then higher, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of her thigh. His hands pushed the loose skirt up gently, bunching the fabric around her hips.

“Woo… wait,” she breathed, though her voice had already softened.

He didn’t wait. His mouth moved higher, kissing the sensitive skin just below the edge of her panties. She was already damp—he could feel the heat and the faint wetness through the thin cotton. A low, appreciative groan rumbled in his chest as he pressed his lips against her clothed core, sucking lightly.

Her hips jerked. Fingers threaded into his hair, tugging—not hard enough to pull him away, but enough that he moaned against her, the vibration sending a fresh wave of arousal through her.

That tug was all the invitation his needy mind needed.

Wooyoung hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down her legs, letting them catch on one ankle. He wasted no time, spreading her thighs wider with reverent hands and diving in. His tongue flattened against her folds, licking a broad stripe from entrance to clit before sealing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking.

She gasped, the pen slipping from her fingers onto the desk. “Fuck—Wooyoung…”

He answered with a muffled, eager sound, tongue working her relentlessly. Long, messy licks mixed with precise flicks and gentle suction. The taste of her made his head spin; he could feel his cock twitching hard inside his sweatpants, already leaking. Every little squirm of her hips, every soft whimper she tried to hold back, went straight to his dick.

She fought it for a few more moments, trying to reach for her notes again, but it was useless. Her free hand gripped the edge of the desk while the other stayed buried in his hair. Finally, with a shaky exhale, she gave in. Leaning back in the chair, she lifted her legs, draping them over his broad shoulders and locking her ankles behind his head.

Wooyoung moaned loudly—louder than she was—into her pussy as she pulled him closer. He was drowning in her, tongue plunging inside her, then sliding up to circle her clit again and again. His hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh as he devoured her like a man starved.

She rode his face without shame now, hips rolling against his mouth, using him exactly how she needed. Whenever he tried to pull back for air, her thighs squeezed tighter around his ears, holding him right where she wanted.

“Don’t stop—ah, right there,” she panted, voice breaking.

He was whimpering continuously, the sounds vibrating against her. His own arousal was unbearable; the friction of his cock trapped in his pants, combined with the intoxicating taste and sounds of her pleasure, pushed him over the edge without a single touch. His hips jerked helplessly as he came hard in his sweatpants, warm wetness spreading across the fabric while he kept licking her through it, eyes fluttering shut in overwhelming bliss.

The added vibration and his desperate, muffled cries finally tipped her over. Her back arched, thighs clamping down as she came with a broken cry, squirting against his tongue. He drank every drop he could, groaning gratefully, refusing to pull away until her trembling slowed.

Only then did she loosen her grip, gently tugging him up by the hair. Their eyes met—his lips shiny and swollen, pupils blown wide with lust and adoration. She pulled him into a deep kiss, tasting herself on his tongue as her hands framed his face.

“Good boy,” she whispered against his mouth, the praise making him shiver. She stood, guiding him up only to push him back into the chair she had just vacated. Wooyoung dropped into it willingly, legs spreading as she sank to her knees between them.

His sweatpants were tented, a obvious wet spot darkening the gray fabric. She smirked, palming him through the material.

“Look at you… came just from eating me out, huh? So sensitive for me, Woo.”

He whined high in his throat, hips bucking into her touch. “Couldn’t help it… you taste so good, baby. Felt too good.”

She tugged his pants and boxers down in one motion, freeing his cock. It slapped against his stomach, still hard despite the mess he’d made, the head flushed and glistening. Without hesitation, she leaned in and took him into her mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive tip.

Wooyoung’s head fell back against the chair with a loud, broken moan. “Fuck—ah, sweetheart—too much, I’m still so sensitive—”

She didn’t pull back. Instead, she took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks and sucking while her hand stroked what she couldn’t fit. He was incredibly vocal, a constant stream of whimpers, gasps, and breathy praises spilling from his lips.

“So good… your mouth—ngh—love you, love you so much—”

His hands hovered near her head, not pushing, just trembling with the effort of staying still. She bobbed faster, tongue pressing along the underside, occasionally pulling off to tease the slit with little kitten licks until he was shaking.

It didn’t take long. He was already wound tight from his first orgasm. With a strangled cry of her name mixed with a string of affectionate curses, he came again, spilling down her throat as she swallowed around him.

She pulled off slowly, licking him clean while he panted, chest heaving, eyes glassy with overstimulation and love.

But they weren’t done.

She climbed into his lap, straddling him on the chair. His hands immediately found her waist, sliding under her shirt to caress bare skin as she lined herself up and sank down onto his still-hard cock in one smooth motion.

They both moaned at the feeling—tight, wet heat enveloping him completely.

This time, she was in control.

She set a steady rhythm, rolling her hips and riding him deep. Wooyoung’s head tipped forward, lips latching onto her neck, sucking marks as he gasped against her skin.

“Ride me—please, baby, use me,” he begged, voice hoarse and needy. “I’m yours. All yours.”

She did exactly that. Hands braced on his shoulders, she bounced on his cock, taking him to the hilt with every downward thrust. The chair creaked beneath them, but neither cared. Her skirt was bunched uselessly around her waist; his hands roamed everywhere—squeezing her ass, cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples until she cried out.

Their kisses were messy and desperate, tongues sliding together as she ground down on him, chasing another high.

“I love you,” she gasped between thrusts, forehead pressed to his. “My needy, perfect boy.”

Wooyoung’s only response was a broken sob of pleasure, hips jerking up to meet hers as best he could from below. He was sensitive, every drag of her walls around him sending sparks through his body, but he never asked her to stop. He wanted everything she would give him.

When she came again, clenching tight around him and moaning his name like a prayer, he followed right after, filling her with warm pulses as his arms wrapped around her, holding her close while they rode out the waves together.

They stayed like that for a long time afterward—her in his lap, his face buried in her neck, both breathing hard and trading soft, lazy kisses.

“Study break success?” he mumbled eventually, voice muffled and sleepy with satisfaction.

She laughed softly, threading her fingers through his damp hair. “The best kind. But don’t think this means I’m done with my notes.”

Wooyoung grinned against her skin, already pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll help you ‘focus’ again, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes fondly, but the way she tightened around him told him she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea.

In their little apartment, nothing ever stayed unnoticed for long—especially not the way they needed each other.

[moooonandroses]

"forever, with you."

pairing: ateez x reader (individual stories) genre: fluff warnings: slightly suggestive (mingi), swearing, they're all just very in love w you and want to marry u. if there's any you think i should add lmk!!! word count: 4.3k a/n: this came to me and i love this idea so very very much. hope u love it as much as i do.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

hongjoong —

The nerves had been racking through his body the whole day, the song he was supposed to be working on staring back at him through his monitor, his hand closed around the velvet box in his jacket’s pocket as he waited. 

“Hey, baby,” you giggled when you saw him jump in his seat, having startled him when you let yourself in. “You okay?” Your brows furrowed in worry, looking at his nervous expression and soft beads of sweat on his forehead. 

“Yeah, let’s eat?” he swiftly changed the subject, his right hand still hidden in his pocket as he saved and closed the unfinished project and opened a different one. 

You nodded and opened the bags you had brought, setting the food on the small table in front of his leather couch. The same couch that had been witness to so many things in your relationship. 

Your first kiss, the time when you both confessed your feelings to each other with pink cheeks, the night when clothes got in the way, and Hongjoong whispered his undying love to you into your ear while you became one. And tonight, it was going to be a witness to the biggest step in your relationship. 

A soft melody began playing after Hongjoong pressed play, leaving his chair and coming to sit beside you on the couch, leaving a soft kiss on your hair while he helped you set the table with the food you both intended to devour in the next five minutes. 

The melody completely caught your attention once you heard Hongjoong’s recorded voice singing over it. The lyrics were a beautiful story of your relationship and how much he loved you. 

Your eyes were shining with unshed tears while you looked at him, paying attention to the song while he looked at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky yourself. 

“Joongie…” You sniffled once the song was over, a tear dropping down your cheek. “That was a beautiful song…” A soft smile overran your features, a hand coming to cradle his cheek.

“You liked it?” his eyes shone, leaning into your touch. “I- I just had so many things to tell you.” He explained, the hand in his pocket clutching the velvet box so hard he was surprised he hadn’t broken it already.

“It was a beautiful song, Joongie. everything you make is beautiful,” you assured him, leaning into him to kiss his cheeks. he dried your tears with his thumb, kissing you softly before sucking in a deep breath. “Come on, why are you so nervous? Is everything okay?” you asked again, brows furrowing upwards in worry while soothing his skin with your own thumb. 

Hongjoong breathed out, smiling softly at you before whispering your name. “My beautiful girl, my muse. You’re the girl that makes my days brighter, you’re everything I’ll ever need in this life and in any others I have left. I don’t want to spend a minute without you. I love you, you’re the love of my life, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He stood up, moving around the table and getting down on one knee beside you, finally pulling out and opening the blue velvet box that had remained hidden in his pocket, a beautiful diamond ring shining in the dim lighting of his studio. unshed tears shined in his eyes while your own were falling freely down your cheeks.

“Will you marry m-” the question barely left his lips before you lunged from your spot, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, nodding in the crook of his neck while soft sobs left your lips. 

“YesYesYesYes.” you babbled, lifting your face from his neck and kissing his lips. salty tears mixing with the sweetness of your cherry gloss. 

“Yes?” he asked once you broke the kiss, unsure if he had heard correctly, his own happy tears falling down his cheeks. 

“Yes, Joong. A thousand times, yes!” you giggled, kissing him again before pulling away from the hug, allowing him to slip the beautiful ring he had picked out onto your finger. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more, Joongie.” You kissed his cheek again, your own cheeks sore from how hard you were smiling. 

“The boys are gonna be so happy I finally did it,” he giggled. He couldn’t help but think of his best friends even in the happiest moment of his life. 

After all, eight does make one team, and each of them helped him in a small way in coming up with his proposal. 

seonghwa — 

You and Seonghwa hadn’t really been dating for a long time, but for you, two tears felt like a landmark in this day and age. 

And your days together were mostly relaxing, often snuggled up on the couch while watching a show together, cooking together while laughing at dumb stories either one told the other, constantly learning new things about each other. 

It wasn’t long before Seonghwa knew. You were the one. He asked his friends for different ideas on how to propose to you, but none seemed fitting. He wanted it to be perfect, to be able to tell you how much he loved you and how you were the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Which is why he settled on something simple, something that wouldn’t raise suspicion on you. Still, he made sure your friends did all the things you once told him you would need before getting proposed to. 

The door creaked open, and you found him exactly where you had left him almost two hours ago, in the living room, building some LEGO set he had gotten recently. You weren’t exactly sure what it was, as he always liked for you to see it built, not how the box showed it. 

“Baby? Watcha’ building?” Curiosity got the best of you, wanting to see what had kept him so focused for the past two hours. 

“Just something I got the other day, wanna help me? The letters are a little smudged in the instructions, so I can’t really read what it says.” He muttered while squinting at the paper book with the instructions, trying really hard to hide his smile. 

“Sure, I’ll help ya.” You toed off your shoes and took off your coat, hanging it beside the door before joining him on the floor, unconsciously squinting before reading the perfectly clear words in the paper. “Babe…what do you mean…the words aren’t smudged…” You frowned, confused 

“Oh, still…will you read them to me?” he didn’t even spare you a glance, focused on trying to find the perfect place for the piece he was holding. 

“Sure…” you squinted at him, still slightly confused. “This piece is the last one to finish building your set! This has been the missing piece all this time, thank god you're finally here!” You began reading the instructions aloud, focused on the words in front of you, and not much on what he was doing. “You are my missing piece…Will you…marry me?” Your brows furrowed, confused at the words you were reading. Your gaze lifted to see Seonghwa sitting down facing you, a small LEGO box in his hands with a shiny diamond ring inside it. 

“Will you marry me, angel?” he repeated the question, a soft smile on his face, enjoying your cute, confused expression. “I love you, you're my missing piece and I want to live the rest of my life with you, I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I see when I go to sleep, I feel like I could make you a list of a thousand reasons why I love you and it still won't be all of them. I want to continue learning things about you, and to make you happy every day,” he added, trying to hide the slight tremor of his hands as you looked at him with a surprised expression, tears brimming in your eyes. 

“Oh my…Hwa…” A sob escaped you, instantly wrapping your arms around him. “Yes! Of course, yes!” you giggled, pulling away from the hug to allow him to slip the ring onto your finger, cradling his cheeks and kissing him gently. “I love you.” 

“I love you today and always, my angel.” 

yunho — 

The delicious food that you had cooked was long gone, your plates taking up space in the sink while you and Yunho were sitting on the couch, a cup of wine beside each of you while you engaged in some topic-less conversation. 

“What do you mean you've never seen Hamilton?” you questioned him with a smile on your lips. He shook his head, taking a sip of his wine. 

“I just never got to watching it,” he shrugged. “You've never had this thing when something is so popular you don't even want to see it anymore?” 

“You're right, I put off watching Marvel movies for years because of that,” you admitted, giggling when his eyes widened. 

“Thank god, we already solved that problem.” He exhaled, a hand on his chest. 

“God forbid you married a woman who hasn’t seen the Spiderman movies at least three times a month for each series,” you joked, oblivious to the way his body tensed when you mentioned marriage, nervous. “I seriously think you’d arrive at our wedding with a spidersuit beneath your tux,” he forced a laugh out of him, trying to act normal. Suddenly feeling hyperaware of the small box that he had hidden under the table beside the couch.

“C-could you blame me? He’s the coolest of them all,” he giggled stiffly, catching your attention at the way his demeanor had changed drastically. 

“Babe, are you okay? You got…weird all of a sudden.” Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m fine!” His voice came out high-pitched, feeding into your confusion. “Why- why are you talking about marriage all of a sudden?” he asked, tense. Making your heart sink, you thought you both wanted to get married in the near future, which is why you had felt comfortable enough making jokes about it. Had you gotten it all wrong?

“W-well…I- I just-...I was just joking, I didn’t-” you stammered, confused, hurt, embarrassed, and with a knot in your throat. “I- I think it’s best if we go to sleep now,” you suggested. He nodded quickly, telling you that he’ll stay behind doing the dishes, to which you nodded, making a beeline to your shared room, quickly closing the door and throwing yourself face down on the bed. 

“So stupid…” You sobbed, tears filling your eyes with embarrassment and hurt. You felt so dumb for assuming that even after almost five years together, he’d want to marry you. You sat up on the bed, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs as you beat yourself up mentally, mortified for the way the lively conversation had suddenly ended. 

A soft knock on the door made you jump out of your skin, startled. “Hey…” Yunho whispered, slowly opening the door, his eyes widening once he saw your tear-streaked face, tear trails in your cheeks shining in the moonlit room. “W-why are you crying?” he walked inside, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“I just-...I’m sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t want to get married. I thought we were on the same page about it, and I feel so dumb to have forced that topic on you.” Your apology came in between soft sobs. Yunho’s brows furrowed in confusion. He scooted closer to you, cradling your cheeks with his big, slender fingers.

“Hey…who said I don’t want to marry you?” his voice was soft, almost soothing, as he swiped your tears away with his thumbs. “I…I got like that because I thought you knew…” Now it was your turn for confusion. Your head was slightly cocked to the side in a silent question. “I thought you knew about this…”

One of his hands fell from your face and went into his sweatpants pocket, pulling out a small baby blue box, opening it up, showing you a beautiful diamond ring, exactly like the one you once had told him would be your dream engagement ring. 

“You’re my whole world, y/n. I’d fight this world’s evilest villains for you,” he began, a giggle escaping you while looking at him like he had grown a second head. “I do want to marry you, gosh, I’ve wanted to marry you since the day I met you.” He pulled the ring out from the small box, holding it in his fingers and stretching his arm out to you. “Will you make me the happiest man and do me the honour of marrying me?” The sweetest of smiles adorned his face, eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“Oh my god…yes!” The reply was instant, tears rolling down your cheeks while a smile made your cheekbones hurt. Your arms instantly wrapped around his neck, hugging him tightly and tackling him over the bed. “YesYesYes!” you repeated, kissing his face, making him laugh in glee. 

“I love you, y/n.” He kissed your cheek after slipping the ring onto your finger. admiring the way it shone in the moonlight.

“I love you more, yuyu.” You kissed him back. “Now you definitely have to watch ‘Hamilton’ with me.”

“Only if we can see ‘The Amazing Spiderman’ first.”

yeosang — 

Yeosang had woken up early that day, the nerves racking through his body all morning while decorating your shared apartment. Wooyoung helped him scatter the rose petals in the doorway, even stepping out of the apartment to step back in just to see how it would look once you walked in. 

Once the decorations were to his liking, Wooyoung left, wishing him the best of luck and telling him that he has to call him first as soon as you say yes or else he'll never forgive him. 

Yeosang looked around the apartment again, smiling at all the decorations he had spent weeks —if not months— preparing. He left two empty champagne glasses on the coffee table, alongside the big box of your favorite chocolates, which had a small letter on top of it, and then he left the living room, wanting to squeeze in a quick shower before he changed into the clothes he would wear to ask you to join him for the rest of your lives. 

Which is why he didn't hear you come in, or the texts and calls you had left on his phone. Your boss had let you go home early, and you rushed home to see him. 

The door clicked open, you stepped inside, toeing off your heels beside the door, and clicking it closed. All your movements halted as your gaze drifted, falling on top of the scattered rose petals on the doorway, leading a path to the coffee table, and some other decorations catching your attention. 

You walked over closer to the small table, picking up the paper folded on top of the box of chocolates, unfolding it with a crease between your eyebrows as you skimmed through the words. 

“Yeo?” you called out, Yeosang stopping dead in his tracks as he entered the living room, his hand frozen in the cuff of his shirt as he was folding it to his liking. 

“Baby?” he asked, even though he was looking at you, his own, blonde eyebrows furrowed, as if he couldn't believe you were standing in the middle of the apartment you shared. “Y-you're not supposed to be here yet.” he stammered, his hands falling to his sides, dragging his feet closer to you. 

“I…I got out of work early…” Your answer came out slowly, as if you were confused too. “Honey, what is all this?” Your hand lifted the paper that you hadn't finished reading yet. 

Yeosang’s eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline, panic settling in his chest. “I- Uhm. Shit,” he stuttered, not sure of what to say. “Will you marry me?” he blurted out, defeated as he looked at half of the surprise already ruined. 

Your expression softened instantly, hands falling to your sides as you closed the distance between you, and you kissed his lips. “Of course, Yeo.” You smiled while wrapped in his arms, kissing him again. 

And Yeosang didn't even care that the proposal didn't go through as he had planned at all. He had you in his arms, and you had said Yes, which was all that really mattered. 

san — 

San had everything planned to the last detail, from the moment he had picked the ring up to the moment he would ask you to accompany him for the rest of your lives. 

“Whoa…Sannie, this looks beautiful,” you murmured in awe once you set foot into the luxurious restaurant at the top of the city, big windows showcasing the big lights in the distance, while the restaurant itself was dimly lit with some soft jazz playing in the background. 

“So do you, my love,” he complimented, making your cheeks burn. “I had something I wanted to tell you,” he began, hiding his fidgeting hands under the table. You nodded, resting your chin in your palm, listening to him with a small smile plastered on your lips. 

“You make my days happier, my love. I was always taught that family is the most important thing, not just the one you get by blood, but the one you choose, and for the past three years, I've chosen you every day,” he began, his beautiful feline eyes shining with pooled tears. “I want to choose you every day, I want to love you every single day, for as long as you let me.” he stood up, taking out a small velvet box in his hands and going to your side, getting on one knee while he smiled at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky yourself. 

“And if you'll have me, I would like for you to let me be with you for the rest of our lives,” he opened the box, a shiny diamond ring surprising you in the most beautiful way possible, tears quickly pooling in your eyes. “I would be incredibly happy if you gave the honour of marrying you, love. Will you marry me?” The words had barely left his mouth, and you were already nodding, covering your mouth with your hands in disbelief while tears rolled freely down your cheeks. 

“My Sannie… I'd marry you in a heartbeat!” You leaned down to hug him, kissing his cheeks repeatedly. Not caring in the slightest that all your lipstick was staining his skin with the remnants of your excitement. “I can't wait to marry you,” you sniffled, cleaning your tears with the napkin once you untangled yourself from him, extending your hand so he could slip the shiny diamond ring onto your finger. 

mingi — 

The sweat in your bodies had begun to dry as the sheets covered your naked bodies after a night where only the moonlight had witnessed the intensity of your love. 

“I love you so much, baby.” Mingi whispered in your hair, fingers running through it. “I'm sorry for being too much sometimes.” he apologized, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Hey, don't say that,” you reassured. lifting your head from his chest to look at him. “You're never too much, even in a whole lifetime together, I would never think you're too much.” You kissed his chin, a soft smile on your lips as you looked at him like he was the most beautiful person on this planet. 

And for him, you were. You were his absolute world, and he felt the luckiest man in the world to be able to live his life by your side. 

“Marry me, y/n.” he blurted out, the softest of smiles on his face while his eyes shone like a night sky full of stars. 

“What?” Your eyes widened, caught off guard by the suddenness of his request. 

“Marry me,” he repeated. “I don't have a ring or anything prepared whatsoever, but I love you, like I have never loved anyone ever. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you the same way.” Tears prickled at his eyes while his fingers ran small traces on your naked back. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Mingi. Of course, I will marry you.” Your own eyes shone with unshed tears as you lifted your head to kiss his lips deeply, sealing your promise of forever. 

“I promise I'll do it again much bett-” 

“I don't care, it doesn't matter. What only matters is that you're the one I marry,” you assured him again, kissing the corner of his lips. he nodded, looking into your eyes with a soft smile. 

“I love you so much.” 

“I love you, Mingi.” his hands cradled your face before kissing you again, before you deepened the kiss, your tongue coming to trace his lower lip. 

Let's say you didn't take long before celebrating your engagement. 

wooyoung — 

Wooyoung had an elaborate plan. He decided to surprise you by cooking dinner and ask you to marry him over handmade pasta and wine. He had a speech prepared that he had been practicing all day in his head.

But the moment you arrived home, it felt like his whole world had been shaken, as if an earthquake had struck the apartment. 

“Whew, what a fucking day,” you huffed out while kicking your shoes off at the door. Your hair was pointing in every direction because of the winter breeze that had struck you while walking from your car to the door of your apartment. “Hi baby.” you greeted him while taking off your coat and scarf, unveiling your rosy cheeks and tip of your nose.

Wooyoung looked star-struck, as if he was looking at the most beautiful painting in the most luxurious museum. “You look…beautiful…” he whispered while dusting his hands off in the small apron he had tied around his waist. 

“Stop…what do you mean? my hair’s a mess, my makeup is barely there anymore, I definitely need-” 

“Marry me.” he blurted out, interrupting you and surprising even himself. 

“What?” you smiled at him, thinking it was just one of his many jokes. But he wasn’t smiling, his hands scrambled, looking for the small velvet box he had hidden in one of the kitchen drawers he knew you never opened. 

He untied the apron from his waist, walking out of the kitchen before getting down on one knee right in front of you. “I had prepared a speech, I- I was going to cook you something delicious and ask you to marry me. But- I don’t need a fancy speech or anything to tell you how much I love you, how much I have loved you, and how much I will love you for the rest of our lives. You’re beautiful, you’re funny, you’re kind and caring, and you’re everything I’ll ever need for the rest of eternity,” he sniffled, a couple of happy tears trailing down his cheeks, while your own were damp with your own tears. He whispered your name while opening the box in his hands, unveiling a shiny diamond ring. “Will you marry me?” 

“Yes, Wooyoung. I’ll marry you,” you sobbed, dropping to your knees to hug him tightly, your tears leaving wet spots on his shirt. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, baby,” he cooed, before breaking the hug and slipping the ring on your ring finger, admiring it before cradling your cheeks with his hands and kissing you deeply. 

jongho — 

The night sky was full of stars, the cool air ruffling your hair while you nuzzled your head into Jongho’s shoulder. Your usual late-night walk accompanied by the sound of the river and the distant sound of the busy city. 

“The view looks so pretty tonight, doesn’t it Jjong?” Your eyes remained glued to the way the water flowed.

“My view looks beautiful too.” he agreed, looking down at you with a soft smile. His hand unconsciously dropping down to pat his pocket, making sure the small box was still where he had put it. You turned to face him and blushed when you picked up what he meant. smacking him softly in the arm while hiding your face. 

“Remember when I asked you to be my girlfriend?” he began. You nodded, a soft tinge of pink dyeing your cheeks. “It was right over there,” he lifted his arm to point at the exact spot he had asked you to be his girlfriend almost four years ago. He then untangled his arm from yours, stepping in front of you and taking both your hands in his.

”This river and our late-night walks mean a lot to me, and I love that it has been a constant thing throughout our whole relationship,” he continued, thumbs tracing absentminded circles in the backs of your hands. “You mean a lot to me, Aegi. I love you so incredibly much, and I want to spend every night walking anywhere with you, doing whatever, only if it’s with you.” he let go of one of your hands and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box with small letters scribbled on its top. He sucked in a deep breath, getting down on one knee and opening the box, trying to ignore the blush of his cheeks and the slight tremble of his hands, revealing a beautiful diamond ring. “Aegi, will you marry me?

“Oh my god,” you babbled. tears rushing to your eyes as you nodded frantically. “Of course, Jjong. of course I’ll marry you,” you replied, giggling while tears rolled down your cheeks. 

Jongho let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and got up, slipping the ring onto your ring finger and kissing you, wrapping his arms around your body. His blush going all the way up to his ears when he heard passers-by clapping to his successful proposal. 

“I love you.” he whispered in your hair once he broke the kiss, kissing your temple before hugging you tightly.

“I love you more, Jjongbear,” you replied, teasing him. He giggled while shaking his head, burying it into the crook of your neck.

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lost? find your way back home.

[starlitjoong]

reblogging to read later

[belongjoong]

getting fingered by jongho ৻ꪆ

৻ꪆ contains: kissing, clit play, fingering, reader is called ‘babe’ and ‘baby’, mdni

he cups your face with his palm, tongues exploring each others mouths desperately. his fingers trail down from the side of your cheek, down your tummy, to rest just above pubic bone.

you arched into him as his hand brushed the edge of your panties, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he hooked his fingers into the fabric and pulled them aside, exposing your slick folds to the cool air. a shiver ran through you as your anticipation grew.

gently at first, he traced a finger along your slit, gathering your arousal before circling your clit with slow stokes. you gasped, your hips bucking up instinctively. “that's it, babe,” he encouraged, pressing his fingers against your entrance. He pushed inside you, the stretch delicious and insistent, filling you just right.

he pumped them in and out rhythmicly, his thumb rubbing firm circles over your swollen clit. your walls clenched around him, the wet sounds of his fingers fucking you echoing in the quiet room. pleasure coiled tight in your core, building with every thrust.

you gripped the sheets with one hand, and your grip on his shoulder tightened with the other. moans spill from your lips as he quickened the pace, his free hand pinning your hip down to keep you steady. his palm brushes your clit with each movement, creating an overwhelming mix of pleasure.

“come on my fingers, baby” he growled, and that was all it took. hour body shattered, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as you cried out, your pussy pulsing around his fingers. he didn't stop until you were trembling, spent and breathless in his arms.

taglist (open) : @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @kisssan @way2jellyous @civeua @stxrrywoo @strhwa @s0ul1nyah @velvetjoong @klowiishere @eviemae5864 @3nhyxx @leewayout @paomaoposts @jisungonmyballs

[starlitjoong]

wowie... im in heaven

[starlitjoong]

Do I Know You? - ateez university au

mixed feelings, mixed beats, intertwined souls...

how could you resist?

COMING LATE APRIL 2026