your new roommate has the body of a literal greek god and the heart of a gentleman. you never expected to want him in more ways than one, but a sudden incident sparks a craving you can't ignore — and a little 'extracurricular practice' lands you straight onto his cock.
#002 — he in my tummy, bye bye to my ribs
watching your best friend get bigger and bigger was a test of patience you were already losing. who knew a little praise slipping from his mouth would be the exact thing to break you, leaving you whimpering under him ?
𑣲 minho .ᐟ
#001 — rockstar
his voice on stage is pure sin, but you’re the only one he wants to ruin tonight. the second he steps into the dark, that heavy focus shifts, making you completely helpless under him.
#002 — the pleasure is all ours ft. jisung
confessing your feelings to your best friend is hard enough. but confessing to two — especially when they’re already in a relationship together ? it feels impossible. except, it isn't. because they want you right between them just as much as you want them — and the pleasure is all theirs.
#003 — zero eight zero one
having minho in the flat right beside yours means there's nowhere to hide from the tension. a single wall is the only thing keeping you apart, and it’s only a matter of time before that thin line completely disappears.
chapter 1: a loafer full of fur
chapter 2: a crumble in the shared wall
chapter 3: a splash on the composure
chapter 4: a dent in the pillows
chapter 5: a tremor in the proximity
chapter 6: a breach through the lace
chapter 7: a sizzle in the resolve
chapter 8: a graze of the lips
bonus: smau
#004 — knuckle in — i meant, buckle in
being a brat was fun until minho decided to teach you a lesson. now, there is no running and no backing out — all you can do is buckle in and find yourself completely at his mercy.
𑣲 changbin .ᐟ
#001 — jackhammered
he overheard every single word you said to your friend, and now there’s no taking it back. he’s ready to make you live through it —no slowing down, no breathing room, just him taking exactly what he wants while you beg for a single breath.
𑣲 hyunjin .ᐟ
#001 — buckle up, buttercup
it started with a simple invitation for a late-night drive, but the second your boyfriend pulls over, the tension completely shifts. he looks at you with that slow, dangerous smirk — knowing you have absolutely no idea what you just stepped into.
#002 — gimme gimme more
continents apart, and he still manages to completely ruin you. with nothing but his text commands guiding your hands, he slowly pushes you over the edge — leaving you breathless, undone, and completely at the mercy of his words.
𑣲 han .ᐟ
#001 — lollipop ?
a single look from him is enough to make you completely forget what you were saying. you think you're the one playing games, but he’s just waiting for the perfect moment to taste exactly how sweet you can be.
#002 — the pleasure is all ours ft. minho
confessing your feelings to your best friend is hard enough. but confessing to two — especially when they’re already in a relationship together ? it feels impossible. except, it isn't. because they want you right between them just as much as you want them — and the pleasure is all theirs.
#003 — thick thighs save lives (pt.1)
the quiet yearning and academic rivalry were easy to maintain — until the lines between the classroom and the screen completely blurred. the secret you've been hiding behind a camera is about to collide head-on with the boy sitting next to you in the library. will he finally connect the dots and turn his wildest, late-night support into a shameless reality ?
#004 — can your thighs and my face have a meet-cute ? (pt.2)
the moment the masks come off, there is no going back to just being top-of-the-class rivals. discovering that the boy you’ve been pining for in real life is the same one worshiping you behind a screen changes everything. the hesitation is completely gone, and he’s ready to trade the quiet library stares for something incredibly enticing, proving exactly how loud things can get when your worlds finally collide.
𑣲 felix .ᐟ
coming soon
𑣲 seungmin .ᐟ
#001 — 'cause this type of love's the epitome
academic rivalry doesn't mean a thing when the library door clicks locked. between the quiet stacks, the strict self-control he’s famous for completely vanishes. your books are slammed shut, his hands are on your waist, and the only thing left to do is stifle your breaths against his skin before you get caught.
𑣲 jeongin .ᐟ
#001 — i let him taste it, now he diabetic
best friends aren't supposed to ask questions that make your breath hitch. but the second you admit, the boundaries shatter. he doesn't hesitate, dropping to his knees to show you exactly what you've been missing — and discovering a sweetness he never plans on giving up.
who knew that watching your best friend get this much bigger would make the "just friends" lie feel so dangerously thin ?
pairing: bang chan x reader, friends to lovers
genre: smut; fluff
warnings: explicit sexual content (minors do not interact), fingering, unprotected sex (please use contraceptives !), praise kink, size kink
word count: 3.55k
kysa's note: had this freaky title in my wips and it's finally here, drowning in praise (#lovepraisekink) hopefully it's as good as i had hoped to make it :) leave your thoughts in the comments, hope you enjoy ! xoxo.
you loved hanging out with your boys, you seriously did. you had met chan and jeongin in university three years ago — a tiny, tight-knit circle whose lives had become tangled in a way that could only be fated. out of everyone you’d met during those years, they were the ones who stuck. you loved them.
okay maybe someone a tad bit more.
bang christopher chan.
you had met him through shared music production classes back when you were all just trying to survive your first year. the first proper meeting between you all had happened while you and jeongin were drowning in a final project; chan had simply dropped by with coffee and some words of encouragement. you learned quickly that that was just how chan was — kind, caring and the literal definition of a gentleman.
he had kept that reputation up for years, whether he was picking you up from the library when you were too tired to walk or showing up at your door with food when you were drowning in assignments, detached from the world. before you knew it, he had nestled into a permanent, sweet corner of your heart. your crush on him kept growing but you reminded yourself that it's just chan — being kind and caring and him.
you controlled yourself, or rather, you feigned whatever remnants of control were left in your body. you feigned it so well that apparently jeongin knew, but the man in question remained oblivious. it was easy to hide because you believed that was just chan — the hardworking soul who cared for his two best friends with the same steady, protective warmth.
so all was good. you continued with the act.
because that’s what it was — an act. for years, you had lied, playing the part of the perfect friend, pretending his presence didn't make your pulse skip.
and that lie was currently biting you in the ass.
you were calm.
obviously.
most definitely.
it wasn't like the visuals were currently playing tug-of-war with your heartbeat.
it was your typical movie night, hosted at chan and jeongin’s place. jeongin had asked you to come early to help with snacks since chan was out at the gym. you had arrived with bags of groceries, helping him prep while he chattered away about the horror movie he had picked. while he handled the popcorn, you filled the bowls with crisps. while he stepped away for a call, you placed the bowls on the table and settled on the sofa, mindlessly scrolling through your phone.
then, the door swung open.
chan entered, his body covered in a slight sheen of sweat, gym bag slung over his shoulder. clad in a black chrome hearts hoodie, he looked so devastatingly hot it had your mouth drying, your eyes straying to the sliver of skin visible at his chest and neck.
"hey, sorry i'm late to my own hosting duties," chan spoke, locking the door behind him. his voice was a bit deeper than usual, roughened by his workout, and it sent a localized shiver straight down your spine. "missed my session this morning so i had to squeeze it in now. you been waiting long ?"
"ah, don't worry about it — besides, innie is way more fun to be around anyways." you managed to joke, your voice only slightly higher than usual as you tried to hide your flustered state behind a playful jab.
chan just chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that felt far too intimate for the living room. "is that so ? i'll remember that next time you need a coffee run."
just then, jeongin appeared from the kitchen and plopped down on the floor right in front of you, leaning his back against the sofa near your knees. he was already rambling about the jump-scares in the movie. you reached out instinctively, ruffling his hair as he talked; he was essentially the younger brother you had never had. there was a comfortable, protective warmth between you two — a bond so effortless that he felt like home. he was the only one who could get away with forcing you to watch a horror movie you were terrified of just by giving you those puppy eyes.
"don't listen to him," jeongin chirped, looking up at you with a grin. "i'll protect you from the ghosts. chan hyung is the one who's going to be screaming."
"in your dreams, kid," chan muttered, heading toward the bathroom.
a few minutes later, you caught a waft of fresh, musk-scented shampoo. before the scent could even reach your lungs, a freshly showered chan sat on the couch right beside you. his fingers carded through his wet ash-blonde hair, the hue shining as if it existed only to be his hair colour. once you moved past that, you froze.
you sat there, way too still for a living, breathing human body.
chan was sitting beside you, clad in a black tank top that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
the fabric barely contained the gym results he had been hiding under heavy hoodies for months. his arms were thick, the skin pulled tight over hard muscle, and every time he moved, his pecs flexed against the thin material of the tank. when he leaned forward to grab his drink, the sight of his back muscles shifting and roping beneath the black fabric was enough to make your brain short-circuit. even his thighs, thick and straining against the hem of his shorts as he settled into the cushions, seemed to take up more space than they used to.
the couch felt smaller. the air felt thinner.
when did he get so big ? his arms, his shoulders, his back — the thought looped in your head, a frantic, rhythmic mantra while you stared at the tv without seeing a single thing.
you could feel the heat radiating off him, a steady pulse of warmth that made your own skin feel too tight. every time he shifted, the scent of his soap mixed with the lingering warmth of his skin hit you, sending your internal monologue spiraling into territory that definitely wasn't 'just friends'. you were so focused on the sheer physical gravity of him that you missed the way his eyes lingered on the side of your face — his expression unreadable, heavy, and far too focused.
"you okay ?" he murmured, the low vibration of his voice closer to your ear than you were prepared for. "you're awfully quiet tonight."
"oh y-yea, it's n-nothing," you mumbled, mentally screaming at yourself for tripping over such simple words. you forced your eyes back to the screen, staring at the flickering shadows with a focus that was borderline painful.
but just as your heartbeat started to settle into a manageable rhythm, the movie decided it was finished being subtle. a sudden, bone-chilling screech echoed through the speakers, paired with a visual so jarring that your body reacted before your brain could catch up.
you flinched violently, your entire frame jolting sideways as you sought out the nearest solid thing to anchor you. your hands scrambled, fingers digging instinctively into the nearest source of heat — chan’s bicep.
you didn't just touch him — you clung to him, your face pressing into the crook of his shoulder as you tried to hide from the screen. his arm was hot beneath your touch, so much wider and stronger than you had imagined when you were just looking at it. the sheer density of his muscle under the thin cotton of the tank top made your breath hitch for an entirely different reason than the ghost on screen.
"shit," you breathed out against his skin, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. "i hate this. i seriously hate you both for making me do this."
jeongin let out a delighted cackle from his spot on the floor, not even looking back as he reached for a handful of popcorn. "don't pass out before the second act !"
chan didn't laugh. if anything, he seemed to go incredibly still. for a second, you worried you had overstepped, that the 'act' was finally broken. you started to pull back, your fingers beginning to loosen their desperate grip on his arm, but before you could retreat, his hand came up.
his large palm covered your own, his fingers curling over yours to lock your hand firmly against his bicep. he didn't let you pull away. instead, he shifted his weight, leaning into you until you were tucked securely against his side, practically swallowed by his bulk. the movement caused his tank top to strain even further, the fabric groaning against the width of his chest.
"it's okay," chan murmured, his voice dropping into a register so low it felt like a physical vibration against your temple. "i've got you. you don't have to let go."
i don't have to let go — the thought was a dizzying loop in your mind. you could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the scent of his shampoo and warm skin wrapping around you like a cocoon. you felt so small next to him, so fragile, and the way he was looking down at you — gaze heavy and dark — made a tiny, involuntary whimper climb up your throat.
it was a pathetic, needy little sound, and you tried really hard to swallow it, but it was too late.
chan heard it.
he leaned in just an inch closer, his lips nearly brushing the shell of your ear as the movie’s soundtrack swelled to a roar, masking his words from jeongin.
"that's it, such a good girl, staying so still for me," he whispered, the praise hitting you like a physical weight. "just keep holding on, sweetheart. you're doing so well."
oh. fuck.
did he just — ? did he just call you, a good girl ?
your grip tightened on his arm, your knuckles turning white as you felt your act crumbling. the horror movie was still playing, but the only thing you could actually feel was the heat of chan’s body and the way his voice was slowly, deliberately dismantling every bit of control you had left.
the air in the room shifted, turning thick and heavy as the movie’s score reached a frantic, screeching crescendo. jeongin was still glued to the screen, completely oblivious to the silent collapse of your composure just inches away.
every time your heart tried to find its rhythm, chan’s thumb would brush slowly, deliberately, over the back of your hand — a rhythmic, possessive movement that kept you pinned to his side. you were leaning into him so heavily now that you could feel the individual ribs of his tank top pressing against your cheek, the heat of his skin radiating through the thin fabric like a fever.
suddenly, he dropped his hand from your shoulder to your waist, fingers grazing the skin where your shirt had lifted. despite much controlling, another whimper escaped you, a tiny, broken sound that was lost to everyone but him.
"you’re so sensitive, aren't you?" chan’s voice vibrated against the shell of your ear. "making those needy little noises just because i'm holding you."
jesus fucking christ —
"stop — please stop" your mind pleaded, but your body was betraying you, arching almost imperceptibly toward the source of the praise. your internal monologue was a chaotic mess of two years of pining finally crashing into the reality of his massive, solid frame.
you felt small. you felt seen. and for the first time, you felt like he was done pretending.
he leaned in, his nose brushing against your temple as he inhaled the scent of your hair.
"i think the movie is getting to be too much for you," he murmured, though his eyes weren't on the screen. "how about we go to my room ? i'll help you calm down."
the promise — the promise of help was what finally made you stop pretending. you couldn't even find your voice to answer. you just nodded — a jerky, frantic movement that had his lips curling into a shadow of a smirk.
chan stood up, his massive frame towering over you for a second before he reached down, his hand wrapping around yours and pulling you upward. the sheer strength in his grip was effortless, reminding you of his strength that had been distracting you all night.
"innie, we're gonna head in. she's a bit too spooked," chan called out, his voice perfectly casual, slipping back into that normal tone so easily it made your head spin.
jeongin didn't even look up from the screen, waving a dismissive hand. "yeah, yeah. go protect your person, hyung. don't let the ghosts get 'em."
the moment the bedroom door clicked shut behind you. the silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own jagged breathing. chan didn't move toward the bed. instead, he turned, his bulk immediately crowding you back against the solid wood of the door.
he didn't touch you yet, but he didn't have to. he just stood there, his shoulders blocking out the light, the black tank top clinging to his chest as it rose and fell with a sudden, heavy intensity.
"now," he whispered, his voice dropping into that commanding register that made your knees go weak. "tell me why you were making those sounds on the couch ? why did those pretty whimpers escape your throat, baby ?
your mouth went dry, mind reeling as the words fell into your ears — he found your whimper pretty ? and the nickname — good god.
you looked up at him, the height difference feeling more pronounced than ever in the quiet of his room.
"i... i don't know," you breathed, another sound escaping as he stepped even closer, his thick thighs brushing against yours.
"liar," he coaxed, his hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb dragging across your lower lip. "you were being such a good girl out there, acting so sweet for me. do you want to keep being good ?"
your soul agreed before you could.
"b-big — y-you're so b-big, channie" you whispered, throat bobbing as you waited for his reaction with bated breath.
chan chuckled as his fingers slid back to tangle in your hair, tilting your head back until you had no choice but to take all of him in.
"is that what's distracting you, sweetheart ?" he murmured, stepping even deeper into your space until you were pinned flat against the door.
up close, the sheer scale of him was terrifying in the best way possible. his chest was a broad wall of solid muscle, the thin fabric of his tank top damp and clinging to every ridge of his torso.
"i've been working so hard for you," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave, becoming that chesty, gravelly tone that made your knees buckle. "waiting for the day you’d finally stop pretending and just tell me how much you liked it."
he worked out for you ?
the realisation hit you with a force, making your knees buckle.
his free hand came down, his large palm splaying over your stomach, his fingers spanning nearly the entire width of your waist. he pressed in just enough to make you gasp, his thumb grazing the bottom of your ribs.
"made my shoulders broad for you to lay on, made my biceps bigger for you to hold, made myself stronger so i can — " he continued, his voice trailing off into a low, dark growl as he pressed his hips firmly into yours.
the sentence didn't need to be finished. you could feel exactly what he meant as his eyes darkened, tracking the way your breath hitched the moment you felt the hard length of him through his shorts, pressing firmly against your thighs.
you could only let out a broken, high-pitched whimper, your hands coming up to rest uselessly against his massive biceps. they felt like iron beneath your palms, so thick that your fingers couldn't even dream of meeting on the other side. the realization of just how much bigger he was than you sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.
"channie, p-please — " you whispered, arching into him as you moved your hands to his chest, slightly digging in order to ground yourself.
the friction of your palms against his chest only made him growl, a low sound that vibrated through your own ribcage. he couldn't wait for you to finish your plea. with a single, effortless motion, he hooked his hands under your thighs and hiked you up, your back hitting the door with a soft thud as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.
the sheer bulk of him was even more overwhelming now that you were flush against him. just then he pressed his lips against yours, groaning as you moaned into the kiss. a shiver ran down your spine as chan sucked on your lower lip, swallowing your tiny gasps. a slight nip on your lips had you moaning his name and all his restraints snapped.
chan laid you on the bed, the mattress divotting deeply under his weight as he crawled over you, caging you in with those massive shoulders. as the last of your clothes were discarded, the reality of him hit you like a physical blow.
god, he was big everywhere. your eyes blown wide, you tracked the lines of his body — the roped muscle of his thighs, the sheer width of his chest, and then, the sight of him fully hardened and twitching against his stomach. he was thick, heavy, and looked utterly impossible.
chan didn't give you time to overthink it. he was over you in a second, his large hand sliding down to find you already sopping wet, your body betraying how long you had craved this. he pushed two thick fingers inside you, stretching you open as he watched your face go slack, eyes rolling back.
"fuck, you’re so wet for me, sweetheart," he rasped, his voice a gravelly vibration. "did you get like this just thinking about me ? thinking about how much of me you could take ? fuck, you're so ready."
you arched off the bed, your fingers digging into the iron-hard muscle of his biceps. "please, c-chan — put it in. oh fuck — please, i need it so bad."
"you want it?" he growled, "show me how much you want it. tell me, princess."
"want you so fucking bad, i'm aching — please, channie — " you whimpered, spreading your legs wider giving him a perfect view of your sopping cunt stuffed full of his fingers. that was all the invitation he needed.
he repositioned himself, the broad head of his length probing at your entrance. he moved slowly, testing the tension, but as your own juices acted as a slick invitation, he could'nt help but slide in one heavy thrust.
the friction was staggering. you felt your breath leave your body in a silent scream as he slid in all at once, his sheer girth stretching you to the absolute limit. he didn't stop until his pelvis crashed against yours, buried to the hilt.
"oh god — fuuuuuuuck," he groaned, his forehead dropping against yours as he took a ragged breath. "you're so tight — nghhhh, you're wrapping around me like you were fucking made for me. such a good girl, taking all of me so perfectly. fuck — you feel heavenly, baby."
it felt like he was everywhere. the sensation was so deep it was visceral — you could swear you felt him pressing against your very ribs, filling the entirety of your core until there was no room left for air — breathing nothing but him. as you looked down, a visible, terrifyingly hot bulge appeared in the soft skin of your lower stomach, marking exactly where he was stretched inside you.
"look at that," he whispered, his eyes following yours to where his size was distorting your form, his thumb stroking your hip. "look at what you're holding for me. it's right in your tummy, isn't it ?
he didn't wait for a response before he started snapping his hips, his pace sudden and much fucking needed. every thrust was a heavy, wet thud, his balls slapping against you as he drove himself into you with the strength he’d spent years building.
"fuck — yea yea yea — just like that," you sobbed out, your head tossing back as he hit your sweet spot. "nghhhh, channie, right there — oh god, fuck !"
"yeah ? you like that ?" he growled, his hands sliding under your hips to tilt you up, making the penetration even deeper, even more ruinous. "fuck, you're taking every inch beautifully. you were always mine, hm ? you just had to be brave enough to let me in. so brave for me, sweetheart. good fucking girl — fuck, you're so tight."
you were a mess of whimpers and shattered breaths, your body shaking under the weight of his broad shoulders and the relentless stretch of him. the sound of wet friction and his heavy grunts filled the room, a filthy symphony of the three years of pining finally exploding.
"that’s it, give it all to me," he choked out, his voice breaking as he felt you begin to climax. "fuckfuckfuck — stay right there. let me fill you up until you can't feel anything but me. you did so well for me, sweetheart. oh god, fuck —"
he delivered one final, soul-crushing thrust, burying himself as deep as possible as he spilled into you as you both unravelled simultaneously. wrapped in his arms, swallowed by his bulk, you finally understood. the gentleman was gone, but the man who remained was exactly what you had always needed to be whole.
you needed your best friend to take his words back before your brain decided to give in.
the room was quiet, the gentle hum of the air conditioner the only sound breaking the silence between jeongin and you. it was a lazy afternoon, the kind spent lounging around with friends, completely comfortable in each other's space.
jeongin was leaning against the headboard of your bed, casually flipping through a book he had picked up from your nightstand, while you rested your head on the pillow near his knees. out of nowhere, he closed the book, looking down at you with a sudden, unreadable intensity.
"hey," he started, his voice dropping slightly. "can i ask you something ? it's quite personal though —"
you shifted, looking up at him. "yeah, of course. what's up ?"
jeongin hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes locking onto yours, slightly wavering as the words left his mouth.
"when was the last time someone ate you out ?"
someone what ?
you must've heard him wrong. he probably meant took you out to eat or whatever other reason your mind could conjure up.
"um... ate me out ? what is that supposed to mean —"
"like... ate your uh — your pussy out ?" he clarified, the words rolling off his tongue with a heavy, sudden weight.
jesus fuckin' christ
in your three entire years of friendship, yang jeongin had never said the word 'pussy'.
and now you were obsessed with the way it rolled off his tongue —
your thighs instinctively clenched together as a fierce blush took over your face. you looked anywhere but at him. how could you, after he said those words that left you reeling ?
"i — i've.... um, never, actually."
"wha — how ?" jeongin trailed off, his brow furrowing in genuine disbelief. "i mean, the guys you've been with..."
"yeah, um... they never offered, and i didn't really want to ask for it," you muttered, your fingers nervously tugging at the fabric of your shorts.
"t-that's.... wow — sorry, it's just that i'm just surprised," he mumbled, fiddling with the book in his hand.
you tilted your head, your heart hammering against your ribs at his response. "surprised ? why ?"
jeongin apparently had it out for you, because the next words that fell into your ear literally shook you to your core (metaphorically and literally).
"cuz you look like you have the sweetest pussy —" he murmured under his breath, completely unaware that the quiet room allowed your ears to catch the last two words.
your breath hitched, the air fighting to escape as the blush burnt hotter on your cheeks.
he thought your pussy was sweet ?
he thought your pussy was sweet ?
your best friend — who you harboured a fat crush on — had been thinking about your pussy ? being sweet ?
oh sorry, correction — sweetest.
jeongin froze, his entire body going rigid the exact moment he realized his unfiltered thought had slipped out loud. he stared at you, his relaxed demeanor instantly melting away as he awaited your reaction with bated breath.
"you think it's sweet ?" you whispered, getting the words out despite the sudden tension in the room making your head spin.
"oh i know baby — with all those grapes and berries you eat ? it's gotta be diabetic —" jeongin huffed, as if stating the most obvious of facts.
the words escaped your lips before you had a opportunity to comprehend them.
"i mean, you can check it for yourself —"
jeongin didn't hesitate.
this was his only chance.
shifting downwards in one fluid motion, he slid between your knees, his warm, strong hands clamping firmly onto your inner thighs to keep you from closing them.
he looked up at you through his dark lashes, his thumbs tracing slow, possessive circles against your skin.
"spread your legs for me, baby," he commanded softly, his voice thick with desire. "and let me show you how it's supposed to feel."
the comment hung heavily in the air, vibrating right down to your core. your mind screamed at you to process the sheer absurdity of the situation — your best friend, the guy who usually argued with you over the last slice of pizza, was currently kneeling between your thighs with a look that promised to ruin you.
oh no — what had you said.
this shouldn't happen.
what if it ruins your friendship ?
you should say no, right ?
but your body was entirely traitorous. under the steady, firm pressure of his palms, your knees slowly parted further, giving him exactly what he had asked for.
jeongin let out a low, ragged breath at your compliance, his thumbs digging just a little deeper into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. his touch did nothing too soothe the throbbing between your thighs.
"look at you," he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent a violent shiver down your spine. "so compliant for your best friend."
"jeongin, please," you breathed out, your hands coming up to grip the fabric of his shirt, unsure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. "this is... we shouldn't —"
"we absolutely should," he interrupted softly, his gaze never leaving yours as his hands slid upward, hooking under the hem of your shorts. "i'm not letting another day go by with you thinking that what those other guys gave you was enough. you deserve to be worshipped, baby. by me. let me do it."
as he felt you briefly relaxing in his hold, jeongin peeled your shorts down your legs, tossing them onto the floor without a care. you felt entirely bare, completely vulnerable beneath his intense scrutiny, but the sheer hunger burning in his eyes kept you from hiding away.
jeongin leaned in closer, his chest pressing against your knees as he hovered right at the apex of your thighs. the heat radiating from him was intoxicating. he dipped his head, his nose brushing lightly against the lace of your underwear, taking in your scent with a sharp inhale.
you gasped, your hips instinctively jerking upward at the proximity.
"fuck," he groaned against your skin, his hands wrapping securely around your waist to anchor you down. "you smell so good. so fucking sweet, just like i thought."
jeongin looked up through his lashes one last time, locking his dark, blown-out pupils onto yours, making sure you were watching before he caught the edge of your underwear and pulled the fabric aside, completely exposing you to his tongue.
"fuck baby — you're drenched." he was utterly in awe as he stared at your wet pussy, your juices clinging to the folds as if waiting for him to lick them up.
jeongin bent down, maintaining contact with your wavering eyes as his tongue licked up a stripe from bottom to top as his lips came to wrap around your puffy clit. as your juices hit his tastebuds, he audibly groaned into your pussy, the vibrations sending a shiver down your spine.
good fucking heavens
you couldn't fathom you were missing out on this.
"oh fuuuuuck i-innie — nnnnngh — oh my god."
your thighs tightened around his face on your cunt as he flicked the pearly bud, occasionally sucking on it.
yang jeongin ate you like a man starved.
"oh baby you're so sweet — fuck — gonna drown in this pussy."
the sound of his tongue lapping at your wetness was impossibly loud in the quiet room, completely destroying any lingering doubts you had left. his tongue was warm, broad, and wicked, painting long, slow strokes along your dripping slit before his lips clamped right back down onto your clit to suck it into his mouth.
you lost it.
your back arched off the mattress, your fingers burying themselves into his thick hair, instinctively pulling him closer, pressing his face directly against your soaking cunt.
"jeongin — ah, f-fuck, stop joking — nnnngh !" you wailed, your words dissolving into a high-pitched whine as his tongue flicked faster, targeted and ruthless right on your most sensitive spot.
"who's fucking joking ?" jeongin growled against your skin, the vibration of his voice buzzing directly into your clit and making your toes curl. he pulled back just an inch, his face glistening with your juices, his eyes completely wild as he looked up at you. "i told you, didn't i ? sweetest fucking thing i've ever tasted. and i'm cleaning up every single drop."
to prove his point further, he dived back down, his flat tongue burying itself deep into your opening, mimicking a slow, rhythmic thrusting motion that had you sobbing. he was eating you out with a terrifying hunger, his nose pressing hard against your dripping clit with every deep stroke, overstimulating you until your vision went blurry at the edges.
"i'm-i'm gonna cum — hic — innie, i'm gonna—" you gasped, your thighs trembling violently, unable to hold themselves up anymore.
jeongin didn't let you close up. he braced his strong forearms against your inner knees, pinning your legs wide open to take the full brunt of his assault. he knew exactly what he was doing; he could feel the tight walls of your pussy clenching around his tongue, the sudden rush of fresh, hot cream flooding his mouth as your climax rushed to the surface.
"do it, baby," he urged against your wet skin, his speed picking up, his tongue swirling fiercely over your swollen bud while his thumb slid inside you to stretch you open. "cum all over my face. let me taste how much you want me."
the mental image mixed with the brutal, soaking friction was the final blow. you screamed his name, your hips jolting violently against his mouth as a massive wave of an orgasm tore through your body. your pussy bucked against his face, releasing a heavy gush of sweetness that he swallowed down greedily, his tongue still working through your contractions, milking every last drop out of you.
you collapsed back into the pillows, panting heavily, your chest heaving as the aftershocks continued to make your stomach flutter.
jeongin slowly pulled away, sitting back on his heels. he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, looking down at you with a smug, heavy-lidded stare. his lips were shiny, completely coated in you, and his chest rose and fell with his own ragged breath.
"see ?" he murmured, a satisfied smirk finally breaking across his face. "told you you were diabetic."
kysa's note: been onto this title for a month and finally got down to writing it for jeongin — just cuz he's being a fuckin' tease these days. specially dedicated to my innie biased cuties hehe ❤︎ lene, nini & lottie ❤︎ let me know what you think about it in the comments — xoxo.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who is in love with the idea of casual intimacy. it's not just about the big gestures, it's about the constant reassurance that you are here.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who wakes you up by gently booping your nose with his own — soft, sleepy giggles escaping him when you grumble and pull him into a morning cuddle.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who absolutely loves it when you give him an 'angel kiss' before he leaves for work. you get on your tiptoes, pressing sweet kisses onto his eyelids, saying the angels will keep him happy throughout the day.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who picks you up the instant you run up to him after a full day of not seeing each other. his arms envelope you as you sigh sweetly into his chest.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing you in until he has his fill, until his lungs memorise your scent.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who follows you into the kitchen for a glass of water — not because he’s thirsty — but because the thirty-second walk alone felt too long.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who locks his fingers with yours as soon as you are outside, swinging your hands as you walk to the nearby convenience store.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who purposefully leaves his jacket at home so he has an excuse to huddle under yours — sharing the same fabric as he pulls you flush against his side.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who loves to rest his head on your shoulder during long car rides — his fingers fiddling with your rings as he hums softly to the radio.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who gets a tiny, triumphant smirk whenever you subconsciously reach for his hand — loving that your body seeks him out just as much as his seeks yours.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who traces the lines of your palm with his thumb while you're talking to someone else — a quiet, rhythmic grounding technique that keeps him tethered to the moment.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who gets giddy when you ask him to compare hand sizes — any chance to touch you — his hand standing taller against yours.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who kisses your shoulder whenever he sees you standing in front of the mirror after you put on a new outfit, whispering how beautiful his angel looks.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who sits all smiling and flustered as your hands come up to hold his face. you press soft kisses to his cheeks, nose, and finally his lips.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who gets all shy and heart-eyed when you pull him down by his collar for a surprise kiss — the sudden proximity making his brain short-circuit in the best way.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who peppers your face in kisses when he sees you looking at him with that face — the face you make when you have missed his touch for too long.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who can't resist you, rushing to smother your face with kisses until he has his pretty girl blushing and giggling in his arms.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who laughs when you pout and huff, hands crossed on your chest, when he dodges your hugs just to see that adorable expression on your face.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who pulls you into his lap at every possible opportunity, loving the softness of your body against his — the warm weight calming his soul.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who loves when you ask him to put his head on your lap. you love playing with his hair, fingers carding through it as his eyes flutter shut at the sensation.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who makes a soft, whining sound in the back of his throat if you stop scratching his head for even a second — nudging his head back under your hand.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who has the cutest habit of tracing hearts onto your thighs, pretty fingers roaming as he murmurs sweet praises into your ear.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who loves the 'leg lock' — hooking his legs over yours while you both work on your laptops — ensuring that even when you're busy, you’re still physically connected.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who insists on 'helping' you wash the dishes just so he can stand right behind you — his arms looped loosely around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who claims he’s 'too cold' just so you’ll wrap your arms around him — sighing in relief as he melts into your warmth.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who knows you love his biceps, so you can't help but blush a pretty pink when he wraps you in his arms, your gaze drifting to his biceps straining against the sleeves.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who loves the idea of bathing together, sighing as you work the shampoo onto his scalp while he holds you by the waist.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who leaves no opportunity to pull you into him whenever you head to bed, your head resting on his chest, your breath subconsciously calming as you feel his warmth.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing softly against your shoulder as he sways you side to side.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who knows when you've turned over in your sleep, so he wakes up, moves to your other side, and snuggles into your chest.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who has to have 'pinky contact' even when you’re sleeping on opposite sides of the bed — just a tiny hook of your smallest fingers to know you’re still there.
clingy bf.ᐟjisung who finally falls asleep with his fingers still curled into the hem of your shirt, a soft smile on his lips because he knows that when he wakes up, you will still be right there in his arms.
kysa's note: my first fluffy post and requested by my dear 🪐 nonnie 𖹭 i had so much fun making this — (cuz yes i'm clingy and i love clingy bbs) and you'll be seeing loads of fluffy from me now >.< lemme know your thoughts in the comments below — hope you enjoy .ᐟ xoxo
who knew that one slip up could turn into the most dangerous game to unravel your secret ?
pairing: han x curvy!reader; classmates to lovers
genre: smut; fluff
warnings: explicit sexual content (minors do not interact) no details because it's way more fun that way ;)
word count: 5.85k
kysa's note: as a nerdsung stan through and through, i had planned this two part fic since forever. plus his new insta posts just sent me spiralling and here we are — leave your thoughts in the comments, hope you enjoy ! xoxo.
!! read part two here !!
the lecture hall was always three degrees too cold, filled with the rhythmic clicking of keyboards and the low, steady drone of a professor you’ve stopped listening to twenty minutes ago. pulling the sleeves of your oversized, cream-coloured cardigan down over your knuckles, you buried your face in the soft wool as you let out a tiny, suppressed yawn.
it wasn't like you didn't like the subject — it was actually one of your favourites — mathematical economics. the amalgamation of numbers and abstract concepts usually got the gears turning in your brain, a welcome challenge to stimulate your mind. the professor — a sixty-something man — was also experienced and dedicated, his passion being the very thing that inspired you to work harder. this was precisely why you had fought so hard to get into the top university for your major; you wanted to study at the best institution, under the best faculty.
but as the lecture crossed the one hour mark and the professor delved into the complexities of the lagrange multiplier and constrained profit maximization, your eyelids began to feel heavy. your lashes drooped, fluttering stubbornly as you tried your best to continue scribbling notes that were becoming increasingly illegible.
the reason behind your drowsiness could easily be disguised as a bad morning. the morning could have certainly been better — your alarm hadn't gone off, you had tripped over the rug, and you had stubbed your toe against the sharp edge of the door. but those were just excuses. the primary cause of your exhaustion was the fact that you had been awake until 3:00 a.m., sitting in the glow of a ring light and livestreaming while spreading your legs for strangers.
initially, you had no intentions of doing anything of the sort. hell, you were far too shy to even entertain the thought — a camgirl ? but when you started university, you realised soon enough that even though your hard work had earned you a scholarship for tuition; the costs of accommodation, food, and daily expenses were piling up. however you couldn't bring yourself to ask your parents for a single cent more.
that’s when you stumbled across the advertisement — www.lovecamgirl.com. it was practically calling out to you, promising hundreds of dollars in tips in a single day just for streaming yourself. the hook ? you weren't even required to show your face.
you didn't truly believe the 'hundreds of dollars' statement, but you figured even if that amount appeared over a month, you could finally tide over. you might even be able to send some money home to your parents after all they had done for you. you were still mulling it over when you were told that the affordable housing for scholarship students was full, forcing you into a single-share apartment with a much higher rent. the decision was made.
to everyone around you, you were just shy, soft and unassuming. even your small circle of friends saw you as the 'baby' of the group, the one they felt the need to protect because of your quiet nature. to them, you were the girl who lived in cozy, neutral and pastel toned clothes and always sat by the window, the one who answered the professor’s questions with a studious confidence that only surfaced during academic discussions.
they had no idea that while they were out at late-night parties, you were locked in your room, living a secret. you were the girl who blushed when a classmate looked at you for too long, yet you were also the girl who spent her nights in front of a camera, letting out those same shy, giggly sounds for an audience that worshipped the parts of you your cardigan hid.
stifling another yawn, you shifted in your seat as your gaze strayed. just a few rows down, a mop of dark hair moved. han jisung shifted in his chair, his shoulders tensing as he leaned over his laptop, seemingly engrossed in the lecture. you watched him for a heartbeat too long —
yes, you had a big fat crush on han jisung.
but was it really your fault when he was just perfect in every sense of the word ?
he was the definition of an academic weapon, possessing a mind that seemed to move a mile a minute. unlike your quiet, observant approach to academics, jisung was vocal. he was the star of every debate, his voice steady and persuasive as he dismantled complex theories with an effortless grace.
he didn't just ace exams; he set the curve, his name always sitting comfortably at the top of the leaderboard. there was a magnetic sort of brilliance to him, an intensity that made him appear both grounded and entirely out of reach. he moved through the university halls with a casual, easygoing confidence, often surrounded by friends but always looking like he was five steps ahead of everyone else in the room.
you found a strange sort of comfort in the way your names were always linked at the top of the department rankings. it wasn't a bitter rivalry, but rather a healthy, silent competition that kept you both on your toes. while he commanded the room with his speeches, you were the one whose written proofs were whispered about for their elegance and precision. you matched him step for step, grade for grade, your intellectual wavelengths perfectly in sync even if you were too bashful to ever strike up a real conversation about it.
watching him now, it felt unfair that someone so intellectually gifted could also look like he had been sculpted by god. the black cotton of his shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders, tapering down into a deceptively thin waist. when he leaned forward to type, the movement emphasized the lean muscle of his back and the faint ripple of his pectorals.
even from this distance, you could see the way his biceps flexed against the hem of his sleeves and the subtle veins protruding on his neck as he tilted his head to look at the board. his jawline was sharp, clean, and framed perfectly by the frames of his glasses. it was a mystery how he even found the time to go to the gym after juggling such a demanding course load, but the results were undeniable.
he was a walking contradiction — a top-tier nerd with the body of an athlete — and every time he ran a hand through his soft hair, you felt your heart stutter in your chest.
you wondered if he ever felt the same exhaustion you did, or if his nights were spent as productively as his days.
little did you know, jisung’s body was itching to turn around and take a look at the sweet girl near the window — you — even if just for a second. he was just as aware of you as you were of him. to him, you were the girl who proved herself through every action, whether it was shattering expectations on exams or delivering projects with a meticulous flair that he deeply admired. your quiet nature seemed to comfort everyone around you, while your razor-sharp skills disarmed them in the same minute.
he had taken a liking to you ever since you first approached him in the first semester, your sweet, hesitant voice asking him where the classroom was while you clutched your bag to your chest. that one interaction had been the catalyst; slowly, without even realizing it, he had fallen for you. he found himself looking for you in every crowded room, his heart doing a strange little flip whenever he saw your name next to his on the results sheet.
you were still admiring him, completely zoned out, when the head you were focused on suddenly turned. his eyes, sharp and clear behind his glasses, landed directly. on. you.
jesus fucking christ
a violent shiver ran down your spine as you instantly snapped your gaze toward the window, your heart hammering against your ribs. the heat in your cheeks was instantaneous — a deep, burning crimson that made you want to bury your face in your cardigan and never come out. you were certain you’d been caught, that your wide-eyed staring had been far too obvious to a boy as observant as jisung.
after a few excruciating seconds of staring at the campus trees, you couldn't help yourself. you stole another short glimpse, half-expecting him to have turned back to his laptop. but he hadn't moved. he was still looking at you, his head tilted slightly to the side, an unreadable expression dancing in his eyes.
gathering every ounce of courage you possessed, you offered him a tiny, hesitant smile — the kind of soft, bashful expression that would redeem you from this embarrassing moment, hopefully. his reaction was immediate. his own lips curled into a reciprocal smile, one that wasn't just polite, but warm and genuine, making his eyes crinkle at the corners.
you quickly looked down at your notes, your vision blurring as you tried to focus on the equations again. the interaction had lasted only a few heartbeats, but it was enough to make your earlier drowsiness vanish, replaced by a buzzing, electric energy.
on the other side of the row, jisung turned back to the front, but his hands were trembling slightly as they hit the keys. that smile. what he wouldn't do to keep you smiling at him —
—————
the next week at university was hectic, to say the least. assignment submissions were due in a relentless wave, keeping you tethered to your desk until your eyes burned. it was the final push before the end-of-semester projects were even discussed, the upcoming weeks promised to be even more intense once partners were officially assigned and due dates announced.
you already had a feeling who your partner might be, a silent hope that the department would pair the two top students together, but that was a bridge to cross in the future.
for now, you were just exhausted.
after a gruesome week of toiling hard and finally submitting every last assignment, you reached your apartment late in the evening. having already eaten on campus, you locked the door behind you with a relieved sigh, the click of the deadbolt signaling the end of your public persona for the day. you headed straight toward the bathroom, desperate to wash the remnants of the week off of you.
you enjoyed a long, indulgent bath, feeling your tired muscles finally relax under the steady stream of warm water. the epsom salts seemed to work wonders, drawing the tension from your limbs as you soaked in the quiet stillness of your sanctuary. it had been an entire week since you last streamed, the chaos of university life forcing your secret identity into the shadows, but you planned to go live tonight.
initially, the idea of camming had terrified you — the very thought of putting yourself out there for strangers to see made your stomach churn with a cold, hollow anxiety. you were the girl who avoided eye contact in the hallways, the one who felt exposed if your cardigan slipped too far off your shoulder in public. you had spent your whole life trying to minimize yourself, convinced that the weight of your curves made you stand out in ways that were clumsy rather than beautiful. the transition from that girl to a "camgirl" felt like a leap you weren't sure you could survive.
but as the weeks went by, the fear began to morph into something else — something that felt dangerously like freedom.
there was a strange, intoxicating power in being faceless. behind the lens. you were just a silhouette of honeyed skin and deep, inviting dips. the things that usually made you feel self-conscious in the real world — the way your thighs were heavy and soft, spreading out comfortably when you sat down, or the way your waist seemed to disappear into the generous curve of your hips — were suddenly the very things being worshipped.
you realized that the people on the other side of the screen didn't want you to be the 'ideal' you saw in magazines. they loved your fullness. they praised the plushness of your body, the way your skin yielded under the pressure of your own fingertips, and the soft, rounded lines that your university wardrobe worked so hard to disguise.
for the first time in your life, you started to see your curves not as something to be managed, but as something to be celebrated. the comments weren't just vulgar demands; they were affirmations that transformed your body into a masterpiece of soft, tactile beauty.
it empowered you in a sense. it gave you a quiet confidence that started to bleed into your daily life. when you sat in class and felt the fabric of your jeans stretching over your thighs, you were no longer overly aware. you knew, with a secret, thrumming heat in your chest, that you were the girl thousands of people stayed up for just to catch a glimpse of those very same curves.
stepping out of the bathroom, you dried yourself off and caught your reflection in the steamed-up mirror. you wiped a small circle clear, looking at the soft flush of your skin and the way your damp hair clung to the dip of your lower back. your body felt heavy in the best way possible, anchored and real. you weren't scared anymore. tonight, you were looking forward to the shift — from the girl who hid her body to the girl who owned it.
as you began pulling out the ring light and the familiar, faceless setup, you felt the weight of the assignments and the stressful week finally start to lift. you reached for your favourite outfit — a pair of tight, high-waisted denim shorts that bit just enough into your skin to emphasize the swell of your hips, and a soft, long-sleeved black top that clung to your curves like a second skin.
the main highlight for today, however, were the black lace stockings you donned.
as you pulled the delicate lace up, you watched with a thrum of quiet satisfaction as the elastic tops dug into the plushness of your thighs. the skin spilled over the intricate floral patterns, creating a soft, pillowy overflow that looked almost edible under the warm glow of the ring light. the contrast was striking — the rough blue denim, the sheer black lace, and the pale, smooth expanse of your thighs.
you adjusted the camera angle, ensuring the frame captured the dip of your waist and the way the shorts rode up just enough to showcase the lace biting into your skin. you settled onto the edge of your bed, the fabric of your top stretching across your chest as you leaned back, letting out a small, relieved sigh.
• moonlit_haze is live •
the notification pinged, and within seconds, the room started filling up. the dashboard lit up with a chaotic flurry of comments and tips, the icons dancing in the dark of your room as you settled into your spot. you smiled, shyly waving into the camera while making sure only your body from the neck down was visible.
little did you know, han jisung had just slammed his laptop shut after finishing the last of his economics data entries. his eyes were burning, his shoulders were tight, and he was ready to collapse — until his phone buzzed. the notification lit up his dark room, and his breath hitched. he didn't even hesitate, clicking the link and leaning back in his chair as the image of your thighs, spilling over those lace stockings, filled his screen.
"hi guys, it's been a minute since i've been here, hm ?" your voice was a melodic murmur. you watched the screen as the first few comments popped up:
onlyforher_65 ($50): curvy goddess !!
sam75rover ($40): missed you so much, those thighs are life saving.
kals.forlife ($35): you look so good tonight.
"hi and welcome," you replied softly, your hands coming to rest on your thighs. the lace of your stockings felt intricate under your palms, a grounding sensation as you pulled at your sleeve, revealing the thin black bra strap against your shoulder.
then, your eyes landed on the one comment that always made your heart skip a beat.
j.one_01 ($100): hi sweetheart, you look heavenly in lace.
this was your regular viewer and, you might secretly add, the absolute best one. the others were still sweet and appreciative, but j.one always said the right things that. he had this way of making you feel hotter, sexier, and more in tune with your own body. on the days when you took things further, he was the one who guided you, his words acting like a physical touch that helped you reach heights of pleasure faster than you ever thought possible.
"hi, j.one," you whispered, your voice turning a fraction more intimate as you ignored the rest of the scrolling chat. you shifted your weight, the denim of your shorts pulling tight across your hips as you leaned just a bit closer to the mic. your top slid off one shoulder as your black lace bra came into view. "i was hoping you’d show up tonight. do you really like the lace ?"
han jisung felt his throat go dry. he was sitting in his darkened dorm room, the blue light reflecting off his glasses as he watched the way your fingers dug slightly into the soft give of your thighs, the black lace biting into your skin.
j.one_01 ($100): i love it baby. especially the way it looks against your skin.
fuck — the nicknames from him hit you somewhere below your abdomen, settling down into a warm pit right over your heat. you felt a thrum of heat settle low in your belly at his words, keeping your hands right where they were for a second, fingers splayed over the floral lace.
slowly, you reached for the hem of your black top. with a soft, steady pull, you removed it, tossing it somewhere off-camera. your entire bra and beautiful, curvy chest came into view, the soft light catching the swell of your breasts and the deep curve of your waist.
as you shifted, the ring light caught the delicate ink etched into the soft skin of your side. an elegant lily bloomed across your waist, the petals dark against your pale skin, moving slightly with every breath you took. it was a permanent, beautiful tattoo that felt almost too personal for the hundreds of strangers watching, but it made the view feel all the more intimate.
the comments flowed in faster than you could track:
softspot404 ($60): oh my god... the wait was so worth it.
knightrider24 ($45): look at that silhouette. goddess tier.
dr3am3rb0y ($55): the contrast between the ink and your skin is insane.
you bit your lip, a small, breathless giggle escaping as you looked at the numbers climbing. "do you guys like the view ?" you whispered, your hands sliding up from your lace-clad thighs to rest just beneath your bust, framing the curves that usually stayed hidden under your oversized university sweaters.
on the other side of the screen, han jisung’s breath hitched so hard it actually hurt. he gripped the edge of his desk, his eyes wide behind his glasses as he leaned into the screen. the sight of you — so soft, so beautifully shaped — sent a wave of heat crashing over him.
to him, you were a mystery, a girl who existed only in this moonlit room, but the pull he felt toward you was becoming dangerously intense. he felt a strange, magnetic connection to the way you moved, a sense of familiarity he couldn't quite place, but he was too far gone in the moment to think about anything but the screen.
his heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs as he typed with trembling hands, his mind completely wiped of every thought.
j.one_01 ($150): you’re breathtaking, sweetheart. i can’t take my eyes off you.
you blushed, your head falling down as you murmured a thank you softly, the sound barely audible over the hum of the laptop. your hands came together to play with the intricate lace hem of your stockings, a nervous habit that coincidentally pushed your breasts together, creating a deep, enticing cleavage that made the chat go wild.
"i... i missed you guys," you whispered, the adrenaline of the week's stress finally venting into this secret, heated space.
without another word, you reached for the button of your denim shorts. with a soft rustle, you pushed them down your legs, kicking them aside. now, you were just in your black lace underwear and those stockings that bit so perfectly into your skin. your thick thighs were the undisputed center of the frame, honeyed soft skin against the dark, delicate lace.
the chat was a blur of numbers and exclamations, but one message cut through the noise with a weight that made your breath hitch.
j.one_01: fuck angel — spread those thighs for me ?
the request sent a jolt straight to your core.
how could you not fulfill his request ? slowly, you obeyed, spreading your legs just enough for your thighs to spill over the tops of the stockings in that pillowy, soft way you knew he loved.
on the other side of the screen, jisung felt like he was losing his mind. he wanted nothing more than to reach through the monitor, to feel the warmth of that skin, to bury his face in the soft give of your thighs and just drown in you. you were so soft, so perfectly shaped, and the way you yielded to his words made his heart hammer against his ribs.
"i actually brought something new today," you murmured, your voice trembling with a mix of shy excitement and genuine heat. you reached off-camera and pulled out a thick dildo, the cool weight of the silicone heavy in your palm. "i wanted to try it out... for you."
the 'you' was a secret arrow shot directly at j.one_01, a silent promise meant only for him even if the rest of the chat erupted in a frenzy, selfishly assuming the gift was theirs.
you wanted to see what the sight of it would do to him — what depraved, beautiful things he’d ask you to do. your mind raced with the possibilities. maybe rubbing it up and down with your hands, maybe licking and gagging around the blunt top, or just maybe, stuffing it inside your sopping heat. a sharp ping of a tip snapped you back to the present, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs.
jisung practically jolted in his seat, his cock jumping and getting painfully hard. he felt a possessive surge of adrenaline, his breath hitching as he leaned so close to the screen his glasses nearly fogged. the thought that you were singling him out, even in a room full of strangers, made his blood roar in his ears. he gripped the edge of his desk until his knuckles turned white, his mind completely consumed by the sight of your soft, small hands wrapped around that thick toy.
j.one_01 ($200): show me how it fits between those thighs, sweetheart. give it a thigh job. i want to see the lace rubbing against it while you squeeze.
your face went hot, a deep, blooming flush spreading down your chest. you should have seen this coming; his obsession with your lower half was a borderline religion. he was utterly fixated on the way your skin yielded, always worshipping the thick, pillowy expanse of your legs as if they were his personal sanctuary. to him, your thighs weren't just a feature — they were a trap he wanted to be caught in, and knowing he wanted to see them suffocate that toy made your head spin with a heavy thrill.
you intended to give him exactly what he wanted.
you settled back, bracing yourself on your elbows, and positioned the toy right in the dip where your thighs met, the black lace framing the scene like a dark, erotic portrait. as the silicone sat snug between your legs, you felt the cool girth of it pressing against your heat. you began to squeeze your legs together, the toy nearly disappearing into the soft, plush curves of your skin as you moved it back and forth. your hands reached down, kneading the parts of your own thighs that couldn't cover the toy, the friction of the lace against the silicone creating a rhythmic, wet sound that filled your quiet room.
jisung knew you were an angel — that's why he called you one — but this ? you were heaven-sent, doing exactly what he wanted and clearly finding your own pleasure in the pressure. he watched the way your skin overflowed over the lace, the way you squeezed until your muscles trembled, and he wanted nothing more than to be the one held there, to be the one suffocated by the warmth of you.
"is this... what you wanted ?" you breathed out, your eyes squeezed shut as the friction against your own skin started to push you toward that familiar, hazy edge. you could feel your mind drift to the ace student you harbored a secret crush on, imagining his hands where the toy was, his focused, sharp gaze replaced by the glowing text on your screen.
on the other side of the screen, jisung was a mess. his vision blurred, his chest heaving in a ragged rhythm as he watched your hips stutter. he was too far gone, one hand wrapped tightly around his hard cock, stroking it with a desperate, heavy friction that matched the pace of your thighs. his other hand's fingers flew across the keys.
j.one_01 ($200): spit on it, angel. get it messy.
you swore you could feel yourself drip onto the mattress, your lace panties sticking to your swollen, puffy pussy lips. the sheer filthiness of the request made your head spin. you slowly leaned over, letting a thick drop of spit fall onto the head of the toy, watching it glisten under the ring light before you spread the slickness over the length with your hands.
jisung's mind was completely hijacked by the sight of you getting messy just because he asked. and when you started whimpering — it was the end for him. his pace increased, precum dripping around his shaft giving the much needed lubrication. the schlick sounds echoed in his ears as he watched the dildo disappear between your spit covered thighs, the squelches soothing the itch in his brain.
your eyes were glassy, your breath coming in broken, desperate hitches as you increased your speed, your thighs grinding together with an intensity that made the lace groan. soft, needy whimpers began to escape you as the silicone rubbed against your clit through your panties. the drenched fabric of your underwear provided the perfect, searing amount of friction, making every slide of the toy feel raw and uninhibited.
in the haze of the friction, your mind traitorously drifted to the library — to the way jisung’s glasses would slide down his nose when he was focused, or the way his blunt fingers tapped against his textbook. a part of you wondered if he ever felt a hunger like this, or if he would look at you with that same quiet intensity if he ever saw the way your thighs were currently suffocating the toy.
"is... is this good?" you whimpered, your head tossing back and exposing the vulnerable line of your throat. "y-you like — mmmmm — like this? j.one — fuck — tell me... nghhh... i'm being a good girl, right? it’s so wet..." you whined, "please, look at me... look what you're making me do..."
your whimpers sent jisung's brain reeling as he increased his pace, assisting you alongside.
j.one_01 ($250): fuck, yes. keep making those sounds, angel. i’m right there with you. squeeze it until you break — cum for me, angel.
the command snapped you back, shattering the last of your restraint. your back arched off the mattress, a loud, broken moan tearing from your throat as your core began to pulse in heavy, rhythmic waves. you squeezed your thighs together one last time, suffocating the toy between your curves as you finally broke, your mind white with the force of the orgasm.
jisung let out a low, guttural growl, his own body jerking as he finally followed you over the cliff. he came hard, his hand trembling as he watched you go limp on the screen, your chest heaving and your skin slick with sweat and spit. he slumped back in his chair, staring at the sight of his 'angel' finally quiet and spent.
you stayed like that for a long moment, your chest heaving in the quiet room as the cooling sweat made the lace of your stockings feel heavy against your skin. the 'live' indicator was still pulsing red, a reminder that thousands had just witnessed your undoing, but to you, the room felt empty of everyone but the ghost of his presence. the hundreds of other usernames and their repetitive praise had blurred into a gray fog — for you, the only thing that had been real was the weight of j.one_01's words and the way they had forced your body to break.
you reached out with a trembling hand, your fingers hovering over the trackpad. you stole one last glance at his name at the top of the donor list, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips that he couldn't see. your mind flickered back to han for a split second — imagining him sitting in a quiet room somewhere, perhaps just as breathless as you were — before you shook the thought away.
"i'm... i'm going now," you whispered, your voice thick and honey-slow from the afterglow. "thank you for being here tonight. especially you, j.one."
with a final, soft click, the red light died. the screen went black, leaving you alone in the dim glow of your desk lamp. the silence of the room rushed back in, heavy and thick, as you sat there in your black lace and damp underwear, the phantom heat of the stream still humming under your skin. you took a shaky breath, finally letting your muscles relax into the mattress, wondering if the boy in the lecture hall would notice the subtle glow in your eyes when you saw him tomorrow.
—————
the week that followed was a blur of high-stakes pressure and library lights. with the semester-end projects looming, the university was a pressure cooker of stress. the professor's voice droned on about the final weighting of the semester projects, and then, the announcement hit the air.
"for the final research analysis, i've paired the top two performers. han jisung and..."
your heart skipped when you heard your name alongside his. you turned your head just enough to see him — the department’s golden boy. he was currently leaning back in his seat, his expression unreadable as he caught your eye. to you, he was the untouchable genius.
on the other side of the row, jisung felt a strange jolt of electricity. he had been watching you all semester, admiring the way you solved complex models with ease. to him, you were the perfect, composed topper — the one girl who actually challenged his intellect.
the walk to the library was filled with a thick, awkward silence. the late afternoon sun hit the campus, casting long shadows as you walked side-by-side, careful to keep a respectful distance.
"i have the preliminary data on the drive," jisung said, his voice a low, steady rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. "we can start with the variable adjustments."
"sounds good," you murmured, pulling your oversized cardigan tighter around you. "i’ve already looked into the qualitative side."
you settled into a secluded mahogany table in the very back of the library, the air smelling of old paper and dust. for two hours, the only sound was the clicking of keys and the occasional rustle of pages.
"if we adjust the variable here —" jisung started, his voice low and gravelly from lack of sleep. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his eyes fixed on the laptop screen.
you nodded, reaching for your notes. "then the projected growth should stabilize... right ?"
your voice was small, and for a split second, jisung’s eyes flickered to yours. he lingered there just a heartbeat too long, a strange, unreadable shadow crossing his face before he looked back down, nodding in agreement.
"okay, i'll highlight it for later reference" you said.
as you reached across the table to grab a highlighter, your favorite pen rolled off the slick mahogany surface, clattering to the floor. "oh — sorry —"
you both moved at once. you leaned down, reaching for the pen near the leg of his chair. just as you bent over, your oversized cardigan caught on the armrest of your seat, riding up your side.
it only happened for a second.
the fabric stayed caught, exposing the soft, pale curve of your waist. and there, stark and undeniable under the harsh library lights, was the small, elegant ink of a lily. the dark petals seemed to bloom right before his eyes, exactly where the ring light had caught them just nights ago.
jisung’s hand froze inches from the pen. his entire body went rigid, his breath hitching in a way that had nothing to do with the heavy air. he stared at the tattoo, the image of his "angel" screaming in the back of his mind. the way the ink sat on your skin, the specific, delicate curve of the petals — it was a perfect, terrifying match to the girl who had spit on a toy because he’d asked her to.
the academic silence was replaced by a sudden, deafening roar in his ears.
he didn't want to believe it.
he couldn't.
but the evidence was etched into your skin.
slowly, he retracted his hand, his gaze traveling up from the lily to your face. his pupils were blown wide behind his glasses, his heart hammering against his ribs with a violence that made his chest ache.
"is... is something wrong, han ?" you whispered, noticing his sudden trance. you quickly pulled your cardigan back down, your face heating up as you realized you’d shown skin. "did you... find it ?"
jisung didn't move. he just looked at you, his mind a chaotic blur of library books and black lace, of silent study sessions and the sound of your whimpers through his headphones.
"that tattoo," he began, his voice dropping into that low, private register that made your stomach flip. "it’s a lily... isn't it ?"
