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odeverload · 22 days ago

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LOVE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU

PLAYLIST || PART TWO || MASTERLIST

pairing: non-idol!jooyeon x fem!reader | streetfighter!jooyeon x bookseller!reader | bad boy x good girl trope

genre: smut w/ plot, angst ( 18+ ) ── 23k+ words

summary: you never expected the mysterious boy who walked around the bookstore mindlessly, looking completely out of place among the shelves of well loved novels, to return so soon… or at all. despite your obvious differences, he keeps coming back. each visit pulls you further out of your comfort zone until you find yourself at a crossroads… are you willing to step into his chaotic life or you’d rather stay safely in between the pages of your books?

c.w ! corruption kink, jooyeon has red flags (some of which: poor communication, fear of commitment due to multiple factors, lying, emotional unavailability), descriptions of wounds and bruises, possessive language and behaviour, elements of free use, dumbification

✎… sub!reader, (rough) unprotected sex, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, degradation mixed with praise, pet names, size kink (big dick!), spit kink, face slapping, pussy slapping, spanking, overstimulation (f!rec), breast/nipple play, name calling (slut, bitch, whore), oral sex (f/m), breath play, choking, sixty-nine, deepthroating, gagging, glasses kink, side characters → check them out here!

Mornings at the bookstore always start the same way.

The soft click of the key turning in the lock, the bell ringing at your presence. The quiet shuffling of your feet across the wooden floors. The aroma of your first coffee for the day mingling with the faint scent of books. The quickening rhythm of the city slipping through the glass windows along with golden patches of sunlight where the packed shelves stand in neat towering rows. It’s something you had grown used to, a comforting routine you cannot imagine unfolding in a different way.

You flip the bookstore’s sign to Open and take a sip of your coffee.

Just another day at work. Another day of unpacking books, arranging displays, and helping customers find the right story - nothing out of the ordinary. Those are your favorite activities to do.

And yet, your mind is drifting elsewhere.

More in particular, back to the day when a stranger, looking completely out of place among the books, wandered into the store. He didn’t stay long, but he stayed long enough to catch your attention; to make you want to take another secret glimpse of his unfamiliar face as you were dealing with two customers at the front desk.

He stayed long enough to leave an impression - and to make you immediately recognise him the second time he returned. Dark brown hair, slightly messy, but enhancing his attractiveness. Sharp, distinct face. Slim figure with broad shoulders. Bold flickering gaze.

You can’t mistake him, even his aura makes the air inside the store shift the moment he walks in.

The first time he just walked around mindlessly; hands casually resting inside his pockets as he scanned the shelves, looking like someone who’s killing time than searching for a book. He didn’t pick up anything nor did he ask you questions.

The second time, he stood in front of the non-fiction section for a little bit longer. You tried to keep yourself busy, but every time his black leather jacket interrupted the silence with a muffled noise, your eyes flickered to his direction on the instant. Wanting to find out what led somebody like him here made you curious of every small movement of his. You continued to follow his figure discreetly until you were foolishly pretending to be completing tasks on the computer.

It was an innocent curiosity.

That’s what you keep telling yourself, but why did it felt like you got caught when he came up at the front desk that day, and told you the things he did? With hands still hidden in his pockets and head tilted to the side as if he was the one analysing you, not you - him.

You replay the conversation in your head, word for word, because you haven’t forgotten a single bit from it. The same heat you felt in that moment rises to your face again.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask if I’m looking for a book?”

To be honest, you were surprised to hear such melodious voice. Perhaps, based on his sharp features and edgy clothes, you expected a more coarse tone, but eventually as you kept talking more, you realised it fits him perfectly.

“I… I thought you were in the middle of reading something so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“But you didn’t ask me the other day either.”

“I had customers who were purchasing books and you left too quickly.”

“Right, right, that makes sense. I was starting to think that I intimidate you.” He flashed his brows at you with intrigue. His expression remained casual as a flirtatious smirk settled subtly on his lips. “Or that you just like staring at me.”

“Keeping an eye on our customers while they’re browsing is a part of my job.”

After that response, his smile widened. No other stranger has ever smiled at you so comfortably like that before.

Based on his body language as he was getting closer it seemed like he was entertained by your answers. “When it comes to us… I think it’s me keeping an eye on you.”

You were at loss for words.

Keeping an eye on you? A guy like him? You like to think that you do possess a decent, acceptable amount of self-confidence, but one week later - you still can’t come up with a reason why he would be interested in someone like you.

You didn’t ask why. Instead, you tried to play it casual, dismissing his comment by asking if he was searching for a specific title or an author. That’s what he was waiting for, right?

He laughed - to which you weren’t surprised.

You know how to spot a reader; someone with passion for literature, someone who prefers getting lost in a fictional world rather than in the overwhelming reality. He is not one of them.

Lee Jooyeon is not a reader.

Truthfully, you doubt he's ever held a book open for longer than two minutes in his life. He’s the type of person who prefers entirely different sensations - to be outside, lost in thick crowds, banging rock music, alcohol and smoke, places where things happen all at once and they happen loud.

He did not tell you all of that himself, but it’s not hard to guess.

On his third visit is when you learned his name. That’s when you also seen him last. Lee Jooyeon - it suits his face perfectly just like the way his voice perfectly matches his lips.

“So why books?”

“I grew up a reader.” You slightly shrugged shoulders; to you that explains everything, but Jooyeon who was having a difficult time understanding you, was staring at you silently, expecting to hear more. “This is my favorite place to be.”

“Aren’t you too young to stay here all day? I thought only old people work in bookstores and libraries.”

To that, you chuckled, meanwhile, his expression remained the same - calm, as if he were merely stating an obvious fact rather than making conversation.

He was leaning against the front desk, elbows resting on the wood, his body tilted just enough to bring him closer. Close enough that you could see the sharp angles of his face - the strong cut of his jawline, the high curve of his cheekbones, and the sensual shape of his lips as they moved; close enough that you found yourself staring a little too often.

You remember the adrenaline rush tightening in your stomach from the closeness so clearly, it’s still lingering. It wasn’t fear, nor discomfort, just an unfamiliar thrill that caught you off guard.

But you didn’t pull back. Nothing was stopping you from doing it, you simply didn’t mind.

You’re just not used to feeling like this… like you’re standing at the edge of something unpredictable, something a little reckless. You’re not the kind of person who seeks out such adrenaline rushes.

“I don’t know, it’s too quiet.” Jooyeon murmured after a brief pause - a pause that had you struggling to look away from him; at that moment his eyes were fixed on the glass door, watching the people walking by on the street. “Time must pass too damn slowly here. I’d hate it.”

And that’s when you knew for sure. He is the opposite side of the coin.

After that, you finally asked him what he did for a living. He said he worked at a bar but didn’t mention which one. You could have pressed for details, but you didn’t. Not because you weren’t curious, but because you didn’t want to seem noisy, like the type to show up unannounced, to dig too deep into a life he wasn’t quite willing to share yet. So instead, you shifted the subject, asking him how he spent his free time - something easy, something casual. Pretty much, the things he already knows about you, - but he didn’t really respond to that either, not directly, anyway.

Once again, he brought the focus back on you without you even realising it. Eventually, you’ll notice he does that a lot.

“Depends,” his voice was thoughtful as something darker was dancing in his eyes, “I’d like to spend some of it with you, though.”

Your breath caught for a split second. “Here?”

A smirk, that at this point, was getting familiar to you, creeped onto his lips as he shrugged shoulders. But his voice sounded serious as he said: “As long as the cameras don’t catch us.”

It must’ve been written all over your face - how caught off guard you were, how you struggled to form a response. You didn’t want to push him away, but you didn’t know how to handle someone like him either; someone who said things so boldly, so effortlessly, making you question whether he was serious or simply teasing. And last, but not least - because you refuse to disobey the rules and ethics of your job.

Before you could answer, the bell above the door chimed, and a customer walked in. Undeniably, you were relieved.

Of course, Jooyeon noticed. The smirk appeared again. “Maybe next time.”

That’s what he said before leaving - the day you learned each other’s names. Exactly five days ago.

And now? Now, you can’t stop looking at the door.

No matter what task you’re trying to complete - sorting through deliveries, rearranging shelves, wiping down the counter, - you find yourself glancing up at the entrance. Just like you did yesterday. And the day before that.

You tell yourself it’s ridiculous, that you’re only wondering, not waiting.

And then, an hour before your shift ends, just when it starts to rain, he walks in.

For a split second, you think you’re imagining things. That your mind is playing tricks on you, conjuring him up just because you had been thinking about him too often.

But there he is, standing at the door. His dark eyes scan the store before they spot yours. He looks the same - messy hair, slightly worn out graphic t-shirt beneath his leather jacket, posture lazy, but somehow controlled.

And yet, something in your wordless exchange feels different. Could it be because he was anticipating this moment too?

You feel your fingers tighten around the book you’re holding, slightly too hard, so you turn back around to place it on the shelf.

“Were you waiting for someone?” The question comes out with a teasing tilt beneath his calm voice, like he already knows the answer - the answer you’re going to refrain from telling him.

“No.” Heat creeps up the back of your neck. “You startled me, that’s all.”

Jooyeon’s lips quirk upward in amusement, but he doesn’t call you out on the lie. Instead, he closes the distance between you with slow, deliberate steps. “Really?”

That same feeling in your stomach, a mix of nerves and something warmer you don’t know how to name, because you’ve never felt it before… it’s magnifying as he stops behind you.

You glance to the side, acknowledging the lack of space between you as you exhale. “Yeah, really.”

The bookstore is already too small��

Jooyeon hums, unconvinced; his hand lifts to fix a crease in the collar of your shirt.

Your heart stutters at how casually his fingers move. This is the first time he touches you, not directly, but still… how does it come so effortlessly to him?

“Uhm, I have to take these down to the stockroom.” You pick up a pile of books, trying to distract yourself from the bubbling excitement in your chest. It makes your heart pound too fast, it almost feels unhealthy. “I’ll be right back.”

Before you even have time to protest, he swiftly steals half of the novels from your hands. “Let me help you out.”

Together, you go down the stairs leading into the stockroom. Jooyeon follows after you, quietly watching where you’re going to place the stack of books so he can leave the rest there too.

“Are there more?” He shoots you a quick look before running a hand through his hair.

“Uhm, there are some deliveries left to sort, but…”

“Let’s go then,” he cuts you off, already heading back.

“Wait, you don’t have to help me, that’s—“

“I told you I’d like to spend some time with you, didn’t I?”

You watch him hang both of his hands over the railing; a flirtatious smile creeping on his lips.

You can only stare at him. An excitement and a sense of wonder over what could happen next intertwine inside your stomach.

“It’s okay,” he says more quietly, catching onto the fact you feel slightly guilty, this is your job, after all. “You’ll buy me a coffee or something.”

And like that, he runs up the stairs.

Thanks to his help, the task got accomplished way quicker, but you barely had time to think about it; you were moving on autopilot, too occupied by pondering why he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

─── ✍︎

Jooyeon had been here for less than five minutes, yet the day already feels completely different. Completely new. You try to keep it cool but the adrenaline prickling beneath your skin at the sight of him makes it nearly impossible.

“This is for you.” You slide the coffee towards him across the counter. “For helping me the other day.”

“Ah!” Jooyeon nods, pressing his lips into a thin line, but you can tell he’s holding back a grin. “You actually bought me a coffee.”

“I did,” you mumble nervously as you fail to read the sudden shift in his expression, “don’t you drink coffee? I can get you something else if—“

“No, I do drink coffee, thanks.”

Jooyeon’s fingers curl around the paper cup. They’re long, slim, but as you admire their movements, you get the impression they’d feel firm and assertive against your body.

You force to look away, to focus on anything other than his hands, when you catch something else - something small, but noticeable enough.

A fading bruise around his knuckles. It’s not fresh, but it’s obvious enough to make your stomach tighten.

Jooyeon’s voice cuts through the space between you, low and teasing. “I was just hoping to get something else.”

You glance back up at him. “Like what?” The question drops from your tongue quickly, unplanned. Perhaps if you just took a second to observe the smile in his gleaming eyes more closely before speaking…

Jooyeon shrugs shoulders nonchalantly. “A kiss maybe.”

He’s not testing the waters. He’s diving right in.

“Oh,” you breathe out, sliding palms across the desk.

The possibility of his lips on yours makes the ground feel unstable beneath your feeet.

“What? Is it too greedy?” He laughs. “It can be on the cheek.” He turns his face, tapping his sharp jawline with a finger.

Heat rushes up your neck. You can’t help but feel exposed, like the desire is written across your face. Light embarrassment blooms beneath your skin, not only because he might notice, but because the craving stirring inside you is so undeniable.

You do want to know what he feels like against your palm; how he tastes under your tongue. You’ve been thinking about it night after night.

You lean in, elbows resting on the surface, mirroring his own. And then, your breathing stops from the gentle contact against his cheek.

The surprising thing is not how the kiss has you feeling - you knew that touching him with your lips would bring you butterflies, even if it’s innocently on the cheek just for a brief second.

It’s the way your body refuses to restore distance. Your figure remains leaning over the counter, eyes inspecting the face in front of you. His features are even more striking up close.

The pounding of your heartbeat is loud, drowning out the sounds of the street. The space around you blurrs like a painting, and the faint scent of his cologne only influences this surreal feeling even more.

You catch Jooyeon’s gaze dropping to your lips, only to flicker up and then lower again. He reaches to tease your bottom lip, brushing one thumb against it.

The unexpected touch almost has you lose your footing.

He inspects the texture of your mouth, the appealing shape of your lips, stretching the silence between you long enough to see you close your eyes. He’s enjoying it - your confusion, your excitment… the reactions you can barely hide.

The next second, you hear his voice murmuring…“Unfortunately, I’m too greedy.”

Right before he catches your lips.

It was inevitable. The tension was leading to this all along.

The action is rushed, resulting in you wincing over the desk and clenching at his jacket out of need to support yourself, but secretly - to bring him closer.

Your stomach twists excitedly at this new, rich feeling. He’s kissing you like he has you already figured out. Hands cupping your face, lips leading yours in an addictive dance that brings a fog to your brain. You cannot think of anything else except kissing him back, again and again.

His fingers press against your jawline, at the same time as his bold tongue licks your lower lip, swiftly making its way through. You let out a quiet inhale as your lips separate for a second only to meet again.

The thrill, wet and sweet, stirrs up the heat in your stomach. Somehow, something in that wave manages to clear a part of your mind.

“Jooyeon, we can’t,” you back away, shaking your head once at him; it feels woozy like the room is about to start spinning. “Not here. I’m working.”

For a moment, you struggle to look up at him. Did this really just happen? If you meet his eyes, will you want to do it again?

Your hands are trembling, you realise, when you unknowingly brush the tip of your fingers against your mouth.

Jooyeon hums in agreement, his eyes slowly looking away. “You taste just as sweet as you look,” he whispers before waving for goodbye.

You’re in bed, tossing around in poor attempts to fall asleep. But there’s curiosity keeping you awake.

You grab your phone to open Instagram. A handful of results pop up after you type his name.

Many random guys appear, none of whom are him. There’s a fitness trainer, a teenager, a soundcloud rapper. And then… one that by some chance could be him.

The username is vague, but the name Jooyeon is written in the bio. The profile picture is dark and blurry, maybe a city skyline or something? You can’t tell.

Two posts. 21 followers. 21 following. Private.

Unfortunately, that’s all.

Your eyes flutter shut as you exhale before looking at the glowing screen again. It could be Jooyeon. Or it could be a complete stranger with the same name. You don’t know.

But you kissed him… your fingers curled around his jacket as he pulled you closer with hands at the nape of your neck. And yet, you can’t confirm his name online? Something as simple as that?

You don’t even have his number yet.

But that didn’t stop you from welcoming his tongue in your mouth…

It’s so not you. This whole situation.

You toss your phone onto the mattress beside you; his name still stuck in your mind. It’s frustrating… not knowing when you want to discover everything about him so badly.

─── ✍︎

Few days later, Jooyeon comes back.

You’re just in the middle of displaying the Staff Picks sign when he walks in, shifting the rhythm of your calm routine with his presence.

The air inside the shop no longer carries just the scent of books, not since he started coming by. Now there’s something else. A restless anticipation that coils in the back of your brain, unabling you to focus on your day the way you used to.

Is he going to stop by today?

When is he going to walk in?

What if he got bored of you and you never see him again?

Is this a crush? Why are you waiting for him? Why do you feel like this?

The hours of waiting settles into the atmosphere, causing the space to feel different as it mingles with your perfume; the same one you bought with your first paycheck, and used to save for special occasions because of how ridiculously expensive it is. Ever since meeting him you started wearing it to work - ordinary days, even when there’s no certainty he’d show up.

But you put it on nonetheless. As though you want to be prepared, but for what?

Once he’s actually here, your mind finally stills.

“You look pretty today.”

Pretty… something about the way he says it tickles your brain.

“Thank you,” you say, hoping the heat won’t fully reach your cheeks.

For a moment, he simply watches you with that maddeningly enticing gaze, so inquisitive in his usual calm manner.

As you go behind the counter, just to avoid looking at him for too long, Jooyeon tilts his head, exhaling through his nose before speaking.

“By the way,” he slips hands into his pockets, a contemplative edge settling over his expression. “Have you seen my lighter? I’ve been looking everywhere, but I can’t seem to find it.”

“Your lighter?” you tilt your head, brows furrowing as you think.

“Yeah.” His voice slows, thoughtful. “I might’ve dropped it somewhere around here… or down in the stockroom.

“I haven’t seen any lighters but I can check downstairs just in case.”

Jooyeon straightens a bit. “I don’t want to take up your time if you’re busy, though. I can swing by the shop across the street.”

You hesitate just for a second hefore shaking your head. “No, it’s fine. My break’s almost up anyway.” You catch his gaze for a second longer. “We can look together.”

You grab the keys and head to the front door, flipping the sign to be back in 15 minuters and twisting the lock with a quiet click. Behind you, you catch a glimpse of one of his fleeting smirks.

The soft snap of the lock echoes faintly in the still air, and it reminds you - in a few short steps, the two of you will be alone, tucked away behind closed doors. In a space no one else can enter.

You’ve searched every corner - behind crates, shelves, under the stack of delivery boxes by the back wall. But the lighter Jooyeon is looking for is nowhere to be found.

“Well… that’s a bummer,” he mutters with a soft sigh. “It was a cool gift from one of my friends.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, crouching beside another stack of boxes, moving them to the side to check. “It’s probably hiding somewhere stupid.”

“Probably,” he murmurs above you.

You glance up to find him watching you. Close, hands still tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He looks like he’s thinking something but hasn’t decided when he should say it yet.

“You’re staring,” you say with a quiet, nervous laugh, returning your gaze to the dusty floor, “instead of searching.”

“You make it too easy,” he answers; the words casual on the surface, but tense underneath. “Besides, you’re already doing fine on your knees.”

You try so hard not to instantly blush as a small smile tugs at your lips in spite of yourself. You push to your feet, brushing the back of your pants instinctively.

“No lighter,” you glance around. “If it turns up somehow, I’ll let you know.”

How exactly? You don’t even have his number.

For the first time in a few minutes, you and Jooyeon properly lock eyes.

“You’re sweet.” He smirks… in a way that makes your stomach tighten.

Here it is… The word he used the other day. After you kissed.

Is this repetition on purpose? Is it some sort of a sign that something is about to happen again?

“You’re always so sweet,” he adds, head tilted just slightly as it seems like he is concentrating more on your body language rather than what is leaving his mouth.

His voice still carries a flirtatious edge - in that casual, effortless manner of his that has you wondering if he really means the things he says.

You shift, not uncomfortably, just aware of the space between you…of the tension that’s making it feel smaller and hotter than it actually is. Of the low thrum in your chest that picks up when he speaks like this.

“There’s no cameras here?” He suddenly asks, eyes flicking up to the corners of the ceiling as he takes a quiet step closer.

“No,” you reply, your voice lower without meaning to be.

“That’s strange.” A glint of amusement lights his eyes. “Anything can happen in a place like this. You’d think they’d be more responsible, right?”

“It’s a small independent store so,” you mumble as a nervous shrug rolls off your shoulders, “but yeah, maybe they should.”

You shift on your feet as the space between you shrinks so much you’re unsure where to look - his mouth, his eyes, or the sharp line of his neck - a sight so captivating it makes you salivate.

His lips are dangerously close now, and your mind involuntarily recalls the taste of them - a taste you’ve never quite been able to forget.

You can’t help the blush creeping onto your cheeks as his hand finds your jaw, gentle but sure. His gaze falls on your lips, confidently, like he’s certain that he’s going to conquer them soon.

“Do you want this as much as I do?” He leans in; his warmth brushing against you.

As if your body doesn’t already give it away, you nod. Your fingers catch lightly in the fabric of his t-shirt as an attempt to steady yourself.

Jooyeon’s other hand shifts to your hip, but it doesn’t rest there. His thumb drags once over the curve before he intentionally guides you two steps back. The patience between you getting thinner and thinner.

“Are you greedy like me?” He asks next.

The same moment your back bumps into the edge of the stockroom table. It’s wide, sturdy and cluttered, half-buried from empty boxes, a stack of customer orders and another with extra copies of books already displayed. Not the kind of surface you’d expect to be a part of a scene like this, but here you are - pressed against it, with Jooyeon’s nearness becoming almost like a weight on your skin.

You shake your head dismissively. You wouldn’t describe yourself as greedy. But one thing is for sure - you do want that feeling again, the one that lit you up like a match when you kissed at the front desk that day.

“No?” The corner of his mouth twitches mischievously. “I can tell. You’re one of those good girls that take what they’re given and never ask for more, aren’t you?”

“I’d say so,” you mutter, voice tight.

And the next second, you’re kissing - wet, rushed and open, all teeth and heat as your hands can’t stay still. You can hardly keep up, but you don’t have much time.

You reach to grab at the leather of his jacket, but this time, Jooyeon lets it slip off his shoulders.

You don’t stop kissing as his hands find your waist again, pinching your skin beneath your shirt as if he wants your body to get familiar with his touch as soon as possible.

This is inappropriate your brain repeats over and over again. Not here… But your body has never felt this way before. How are you supposed to resist a guy like him?

The realisation of your doing hits you the moment you lift arms so he can remove your top.

“Fuck, look at this,” he grunts in approval, tugging at your lace bra so your nipples poke out, “such pretty tits.” He leans forward, catching one of them with his mouth.

Your lips part as he groans against your skin, mouth closing around your breast with hungry intent, like he wants to leave a mark. A whine escapes you before you can catch it, sharp with desire and laced in embarrassment; his sounds are eager, unfiltered, making your skin burn hotter.

His lips release your boob with a pop, only to be replaced by the warm lick of his tongue. He laps at your sensitive nipple, drawing another shaky breath from your lungs. All the while, his fingers, unwilling to waste a second more, undo the button of your pants.

The fabric slips down your legs and puddles at your feet with a soft thud, the sound oddly loud in the cold, quiet space. The excitment flooding your veins is brand new as cool air meets your bare skin, making you shudder. Not from cold so much, but from how exposed you suddenly feel. From the way he looks at you. His dark eyes are gleaming with something close to triumph, like having you like this is a victory.

“If only we had more time,” he muses against your throat, “I’d eat you up.” His bold tongue slides up your neck, ending in a wet, open mouthed kiss just below your ear.

Your whole body ignites at his choice of words.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He rests a palm against your panties, getting familiar with the outline of your intimate pussy lips. “You’d like it if I press my tongue right here?”

“Yeah,” the answer escapes you in the form of a moan, edged in desperation. “I’d like that...”

Another moan slips - quieter and discreet, but just as needy. His middle finger pushes against the wet patch you’ve created; slow, teasing circles.

You wish you could vocalise the things you want like he does. Easy, effortlessly.

“Fuck, bet she tastes even sweeter.” An airy chuckle drops from his tongue, slightly mocking yet so erotic - like everything that comes out of his mouth.

The following second, your breath turns even, your jaw goes slack - after a quick, swift adjustment of your panties, the same finger, long and slim, slides inside you.

“Holy shit,” Jooyeon gasps; his voice warm on your face as he glides further, “you’re tight!” His playful demeanour shifts to something serious when his gaze finally drops as he begins to add his ring finger. “I’ll have to strech you really good.”

You squeeze right away, tighter, hotter - it makes him groan in sync with you as one of your hands grabs onto his shirt.

“Jooyeon,” you trail off, feeling how the rush follows the steady rhythm of his touch. Back and forth, drowning in your arousal. “Fuck—”

You’re unsure what exactly you’re asking for. All you know is that you need him even closer. All of him.

But your words keep stumbling in your throat.

“Shit, listen to this, baby.” A smirk of mischief tugs at his lips, his two fingers now pumping in and out of you quicker. “So fucking soaked,” he murmurs, wanting to see you flustered over your own noises.

He also wants to hear your reaction once he curls them just right.

“Fuck!” your voice cracks, your head tilting back, helplessly.

The burning heat in your core rises strikingly, making your lower half twitch. Undeniably, your composure is slipping, causing the arms holding you in place to halt, your chest and shoulders - to heave.

“One more,” Jooyeon says, slowing the pace.

“More?” you slowly lift your head, gaze glinting with exclamation.

Not responding right away, Jooyeon signals you to sit on top of the table after emptying you. Once you settle, palms propped on the surface, he bends your knees, spreading you open with eyes drinking up the sight of you.

“You’re not gonna take me easy, babe,” he says at once, guiding his sticky fingers back to your entrance. “I don’t want to hurt this pretty cunt.”

The first two finggers slip in smoothly, your body welcoming them with a slick, needy pull. But the third, despite how wet you are, slightly struggles. Jooyeon doesn’t rush, just presses slowly and precise. Your whine elevates higher, thinner - the stretch burns, just a little, unfamilliar and sweet, as your walls pulse, trying to adjust.

“Almost,” he murmurs, a thick string of spit suddenly hanging from his lips. Soon, it lands, instantly trickling down your slick while you tremble around his fingers. It does soothe the sting a bit, and your walls let him sink deeper. “There you go,” he coos. “Look at you, all full.”

The words come out like a praise, but the smirk behind them makes them feel like a sneer. Maybe it shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does… but it does.

“Oh m-my God…” you choke in wonderment, consumed in the fullness, in the warmth winding tighter with every second. You curl toes in the air, already close.

Jooyeon watches you like he’s trying to memorise it all - your flushed pretty face, your parted lips, the disbelief in your expression as he pushes until he’s knuckles deep inside you. The wet, messy sounds you make are loud, squelching excitingly. But what really gets to him is you and how far gone you already are.

“I’m gonna—” you gasp, your voice barely holding together.

“Just from my fingers?” he comments satisfied, keeping the calculated motions, like he’s studying you second by second; drag after drag. “Go ahead,” he says and his tone dips so low allmost like a threat. “I won’t stop until I feel you sqeeze tighter.”

“Please,” you pant, closing your eyes shut, “don’t stop…”

The tension coiled in your belly is now unbearable, the stretch has faded into something electric. Your thighs tremble around his wrist as he maintains the pressure steady, fingers angled perfectly.

“Let me feel it,” his mouth brushes your warm cheek as he whispers. ”Come on, babydoll…”

Then, you do. You break; your cry catches in your throat before tumbling out in a desperate, wrecked sound.

“Good fucking girl.”

Soon enough, Jooyeon’s hand stills, letting your body ride it out as you shudder close to him. At first he watches silently, your slick dripping onto his palm. Finally, he says: “Should we replace them with something else now?”

You blink at him, your breath starting to even out.

“Tell me.” His free hand moves on the back of your neck to bring you closer.

But what makes you wince surprised is the smack, firm and unexpected, landing directly onto your aroused clit.

“Y-yes,” you breathe out, then bite your lower lip.

“Fuck, you enjoy this too?” Jooyeon asks impressed, locking eyes with you before slapping you again. Then, again - same place but doubling the pressure.

You fail at suppressing your moans, raw, with slight guilt beneath them… because you do, you’re enjoying it so much. Every small nerve in your body keeps reacting to his touch, no matter how light or strong it is.

No matter how gentle or… degrading.

His hand stops at once, but he remains near, inspecting the twitching of your lips.

“Ask for it,” he insists with an unrelenting tone.

“I want it… please,” you breathe, his sharp eyes dizzying you. “Give it to me,” you try again.

But he still doesn’t budge.

“I want it…” he murmurs slowly, tilting his head, waiting. “Please…?”

“Please, Jooyeon…” you finish.

He steps back.

You can finally draw in a breath.

It’s both ridiculous and amazing… how strongly you can crave someone who you barely know; how despite your desire for him, his proximity steals the oxygen right out of your body once he closes in.

Jooyeon titters, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. “Relax, pretty. I’m just messing with you.” He glances at his belt, undoing it with quick, yet still laid-back motions. “I’m not your first, am I?”

“No, you’re not,” you answer, immediately catching the relief that slips from his mouth.

In the next moment, your gaze curiously flickers to his crotch. He doesn’t bother removing any other clothing - he lowers his jeans just enough to pull it out and settles in front of you; your legs easily welcome him by moving around his waist.

The sight of his erection suddenly near you quickens your pulse with exhilaration. He’s the kind of size you’ve only gotten the chance to see on your laptop screen, but never in real life.

He lifts his bruised hand, spitting on his fingertips. His steady, relaxed strokes smear the shiny moisture along his skin, lightly brushing over the swollen, flushed head before lowering it.

You don’t miss a single movement of his - his erotic actions, the seductive aura radiating from his body… they’re enough to fuel you with a new wave of pleasure; genuine pleasure and marvel you’ve never felt before from watching or reading any erotic content.

Then, he suddenly snaps you out of your daze. “I don’t take care of girls during sex,” he says, “I fuck them.”

“Okay.” You reply; too quickly, too lame. The regret bites you immediately.

Jooyeon chuckles, low and husky. “You’re cute.”

His snickering deepens your embarrassment, making you wish you could turn back time.

This doesn’t distracts him, though. He drags the head of his cock up your slick folds with slow precision. Each glide of his tip over your sensitive clit sends a jolt through your core. Your hips twitch as a helpless mewl escapes your lips. Then, your head falls to the side, gaze locked on the way he massages the bud while collecting more from your arousal. And you feel it beneath your skin, in your tightening core too - how this maddening teasing can take you there again…

Soon, he pauses, right at your entrance.

“Keep them open like this for me,” he presses one hand into your thigh, holding you wide as he starts to sink in.

Each inch stretches you open, slow and steady. Your breath catches, eyes fluttering shut as your throbbing walls hesitate to take him fully. The friction is perfect, though, electrifying.

Your mind starts to blur, your thoughts slipping into deep haze with each push of his hips, flooding your system with a thrill of rapture. This leads you to completely forgetting about your surroundings.

Like you’re here, but also somewhere else at the same time… floating from pleasure.

“Fuck!” Jooyeon groans, squeezing his eyes as you grip him to the base. “Fuck yeah, baby.”

Your eyes roll back, a broken sounds spills from your lips. He starts to move freely, hips rolling into you with force. The rush that had been teasing you till this moment, explodes into euphoria.

“Ah, good fuckin’ pussy…” he hisses, the slamming of his body against you echoes around the stockroom, mixing with the pressure in his voice. “I knew it’d take me well.”

Before you even have time to register it, he grabs your leg, throws it over his shoulder, forcing your body to tilt back. Now, after this small change in the position, everything hits differently.

“Oh, fuck!” You whimper, nearly forgetting how to breathe from how good it feels.

Your dazed eyes flicker to Jooyeon’s face. His mouth hangs open, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. He’s concentrated, restless… and staggering attractive like this. Completely lost and wild in the feel of you.

“Fuck, baby,” he overpowers your sounds with a groan. “So deep, right? My whole cock’s filling you up, you feel it?”

You feel it in every part of your being. It’s soaking your bones, wrapping your mind into a fog you never want to leave.

It’s hard to describe but he keeps hitting something inside you, something secret that makes you grip him harsh every time he finds it. Like a button you didn’t know existed.

“So deep,” you whimper, nodding overwhelmed. “Please… p-please, don’t stop, please...”

Jooyeon’s lips twitch, pleased. The changes in your behaviour, in the way you look at him breathless… it feeds something primal in him.

“Who knew a sweet doll like you could moan like that?” His darkening gaze fixates on your face. “You sound like a true whore, sweetheart.”

The way your innocence melts with each thrust without your manners disappearing arouses him more than he expected. He’s used to straightforward girls with big, bold mouths. Girls who climb into his lap before even asking for his name.

You squeal when he slams in just right, and instinctively your hand flies up to cover your mouth.

Jooyeon easens the pace, sensing you’re close. He rolls his hips deeper, slower, letting the moment stretch. “You’re such a pretty sight right now,” he breaks the silence at once, “hiding down here, letting me use you however I like.”

You’re trying to catch your breath but it’s difficult when he’s still inside you, hard and throbbing against your walls.

Without a warning, his hips crash into you, smashing that sweet spot. Your hips jerk and you squeal desperately once more.

Your eyes quickly flicker back at him when he reaches for your chin. The movement is sudden and demanding as his fingertips sink into your flesh.

“You feel that?” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “How you squeeze my dick when I’m rough with you?”

“I do,” you whisper in response.

It’s true - his rough grip comes with an exciting thrill that makes your core muscles pulse; your skin flushed and buzzing. Meanwhile, in your chest there’s warm anticipation spreading - to feel him do it again.

To feel him move the way he did a moment ago. Those slow drags feel almost cruel now. You’re willing to beg if he asks you to.

“And you call yourself a good girl?” He presses his fingertips harder, just for a second before letting go, tilting your head to the side.

Your voice rises on the instant once he resumes his previous, fierce pace, pulling needy sounds from you that you can’t contain even if you tried. With each second, they only turn louder, transforming into something pornographic - but you’re not in the right mindset to dwell on that. If you did, you’d realise you can’t remember the last time your voice raised this high.

Jooyeon groans, unable to control his voice any longer either. “Yeah, keep screaming like that… you naughty slut.”

With one swift motion, his arm knocks the stack of empty boxes off the desk. They crash to the ground and before you can register the sound, he lays you back.

His actions are rushed and commanding. There’s nothing gentle about them, and yet they feel so good.

Your gaze meets the ceiling, but not for long; the strong slamming of his cock, over and over again, has your vision blurring, your breath stuttering.

The desk creaks loudly beneath you but all you can focus on is the wild pleasure tearing through you. A wave so new, threatening to snap any moment.

“Fuck, come around me, slut!” Jooyeon growls. His grip strengthens around your hips, dragging you down onto him. “C’mon—give it to me.“ His head falls back, a guttural moan crawling out of his throat at the feel of your walls, tightening, so close to release.

Your back arches off the surface. Just when his gaze lands back upon you.

“Rub yourself.”

His command brings immediate heat to your cheeks. Despite feeling flustered to do something you’ve only done secretly under the sheets of your bed - your hand obeys almost promptly.

“Mm, good fucking slut,” he draws out, voice thick with hunger. “Show me how you do it, let me see…” his eyes watch the speedy circles for a moment before returning to your bouncing chest. “Faster… rub that pussy faster.”

You choke on your sounds as you hurry to succumb to this demand too.

It’s an irresistible combination… his powerful thrusts and the additional stimulation on your clit; his husky voice, condescending, and the fierce nature of his touch regardless on which part of you it lands… All these separate sensations blend effectively together, throwing you over the edge.

And then it happens. His name falls from your lips - soft, breathy, unplanned. Just before you fall apart.

“Jooyeon—“

It happens so fast. You don’t even realise you’ve said it until it’s in the air.

Despite it all, Jooyeon hears it.

And even after the eventful night which follows that day, it’s the sound of your voice moaning his name that he can’t get out of his head.

─── ✍︎

You know people have different definitions of what happened between you and Jooyeon. You also know that he doesn’t seem the type to lay things out clearly, to make promises and pretend to be someone he’s not… to want to put a definition on what happened between you just yet.

Or… ever.

You may not have as much experience as him, but you understand how guys like him view relationships.

Two days have passed and you’re furious with yourself for caring. You told yourself it was fine if it was just a one-time thing - a little excitement to break the monotony of your routine. People your age do it all the time. It shouldn’t mean anything.

And yet, every time the store’s door swings open and it’s not him walking in, a quiet disappointment tightens in your chest.

You do care.

You’re not someone who can kiss a person casually without getting attached. You’ve never been. Then how did you get here? Kissing a guy like him who has trouble written all over his face… over his knuckles.

The memories flash through your mind - his hands on your skin, his mouth claiming yours, the way his eyes burned into you… and you question them. Could they really mean nothing?

You rise on your feet and start reorganising books on the fantasy/sci-fi shelf, desperate to silence the noise in your head. But your thoughts shift yet again. Back to that brief moment behind the counter that day…

After you went back upstairs, he reached across the counter, stealing a small, colorful piece of paper from the stack near the register. Then, he snatched your pen too.

His handwriting was a little messy, but his bruised fingers moved with ease. There was no hesitation, like whatever he was writing didn’t require consideration.

“In case you find my lighter,” he said; his voice was back to casual and smooth.

You remember how he slid the note your way, how your fingertips brushed against the paper before picking it up. The same pink paper that’s currently hidden beneath your phonecase.

“I could’ve just added my number into your contacts,” you smiled.

“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugged, “but isn’t this something a guy in a book would do?”

You can call him.

If he wasn’t interested in you at all, why would he give you his number after you had sex? But then… why should you be the one to reach out first?

Your fingers twitch toward your phone, still buried in your back pocket, but you hesitate.

Maybe you’re overthinking it. Maybe he’s waiting for you to call. Or maybe he isn’t.

The bell over the store’s entrance chimes, your heart leaps before you can stop it. But it’s just a middle aged woman with a list clutched in her hands.

You exhale out of pure frustration at your own self. It’s ridiculous - this anticipation. You have work to do, a life to live. You are not the kind of person who waits around, checking their phone every five minutes because of a guy.

You don’t want to be.

─── ✍︎

It’s a quiet afternoon, an uneventful workday that makes time pass slower than usual. You’re outside the bookstore, coffee cup in hand, savoring the last minutes of your break in Jiseok’s company. He drops by often, always bringing you a fresh pastry and a drink from the café across the street where he works.

Though brief, his presence is a welcomed reprieve. Even the most meaningless conversation with him feels easy and you get along effortlessly.

Eventually, he glances at his watch, sighing. “Time flies.”

You’re both about to say goodbye and head back to work when a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

Jooyeon.

He’s across the street, stepping out of a sleek black car. After slamming the door shut, he turns, scanning the passing crowd. Then, his gaze finds yours. But he doesn’t wave. He doesn’t call out or cross the street. He just leans against the car with focus locked on you.

Seeing him for the first time after that day immediately ignites back the familiar warmth inside you. This time, however, it’s mixed with frustration. And maybe something else, slightly more dangerous, but still unknown.

All these days… and not a single visit. Not even for five minutes. He left you thinking that maybe that was it, that maybe you meant nothing more than a hook up.

Jiseok, unaware of your distraction, pulls you back in the moment. “You good?”

You blink, forcing yourself to break the eye contact. “Yeah,” you nod as if shaking off a spell. “I should get back inside too.”

Jiseok stretches, exhaling deeply through his nose. “See you later then,” he says before turning. “Or tomorrow if I don’t catch you.”

“Thanks for the coffee!” You chirp, stepping inside the bookstore.

The city noise fade as you walk behind the counter; the anticipation has your heart racing, your mind counting the seconds left until the bell chimes.

You have no idea what to expect, nor enough time to run through the possibillities; to consider the best and worst ways this encounter could unfold - because before you can even steady your pulse, he’s already here.

His lips curl at the sight of you. “You never called.”

His tone is light, and he’s watching you closely, measuring your reaction from a distance. He doesn’t sound upset or disappointed so you can’t be sure if he’s really waited for you to call as he makes it sound. If anything, he’s clearly amused.

“I never found your lighter.”

“Ah, I see…” his voice dips lazily.

That’s when you notice it - a faint streak of red on his left brow.

He steps forward, exhaling a short laugh as he leans onto the counter, bracing himself on his elbows. He’s a breath away - you can smell the faintest trace of smoke and mint clinging to him, - but your gaze drops, softening as it lands on his hands.

The small, fading bruise you’d noticed before is gone, replaced by several fresh ones. Darker, angrier. The knuckles of his right hand are raw, the skin split in places, a stark contrast against his pale complexion.

You can’t play along anymore.

“What happened?” Your fingers move forward before you can think twice; it’s so delicate that it barely feels like a touch, but it’s enough to make Jooyeon tense and pull away.

Startled by the sudden movement, you glance up. You wouldn’t call his reaction dismissive, it’s something else - a moment of surprise or perhaps even panic. A second later, you figure it out - you’ve never really… touched him.

Not until he’s touched you first.

The silence between you grows thick, pressing in from all sides. Thankfully, he finally speaks up. “Thought it’s obvious.” He forces a crooked smile that doesn’t quite reaches his eyes.

You glance briefly at his lips. For some reason seeing them unharmed brings you a strange type of relief.

“It is,” you murmur, “but I want to know if it was something serious.”

“Why?” Jooyeon tilts his head slightly, his gaze sharpening.

Faking nonchalance crossed your mind for a moment, but you immediately decide against it. If you want honesty from him - you need to be honest too.

“You’ve learned so much about my life from being here,” you admit. “But I know nothing about yours.”

When his hands return to the counter, they don’t stay still this time. Absently, they tap against the wood as his own attention shifts to the bruises too - fresh memories of the previous night. His lips part slightly, as if he might say something, but he hesitates.

The unreadable expression on his face makes your stomach twist with something close to irritation. You don’t need a full explanation, not right away. All you want to know if he’s trying to open up. If he’s even willing to let you in.

Because the truth is, he’s already slipped into your life effortlessly. And you like having him here.

“I got into a fight at work, that’s all.” He says, and this time, it’s dissmisive.

Pushing for more won’t get you anywhere so you look away, nodding. “Okay.”

He barely gives time to your answer to settle between you.

“I want to kiss you.”

Your gaze snaps back at him.

“But I don’t want to cause you trouble.” He doesn’t rush to continue. He lets his words land, watching how they shift something in your expression.

A faint smile plays at his mouth as his focus drops to your lips, and like that - the alluring spark of pine in his gaze vanishes, getting replaced by something more intense. As if causing you trouble is something he secretly wants to do because it sounds entertaining.

What should you say?

Not now.

I want to kiss you too.

What we did last time can’t happen again.

Not now… but don’t go. Wait for me.

Your head spins with options, each one laced with consequences.

“Something on your mind?” He tilts his head, watching you like he sees right through you. That makes his easy smile last a moment longer. “What? You don’t want me here?”

Once again, it hits you just how much he doesn’t fit in this place. Not with that smug grin and unfiltered mouth. Not with that scarred skin and black leather jacket steeped in cigarette smoke.

And you try, you really do, to resist all of it. It’s clear what he’s here for. But what if deep down you want the same?

What if you’e growing an addiction?

“Look, customers will be coming in soon,” you murmur, eyes skimming anywhere but his, “I won’t have time to talk anyway. Maybe come by another day?”

Jooyeon’s features tighten, like he’s struggling to process your words. With a swift motion, his hand catches your name badge and pulls you closer.

“Is that what you think I'm here for?” The lower tone, intimate and quiet, sends a shiver down your spine. “To chat?”

His ravishingly carved face… his alluring eyes, practically daring you to give in… it all makes your thoughts falter.

You wet your lips without meaning to, just as he lets go of your badge, letting it fall back against your chest. A dry chuckle escapes him as he watches you stay frozen in place.

Exactly the reaction he expected.

And then, suddenly he’s close again; his voice softening with a hint of secrecy. “Your body says otherwise.”

“What I mean is… this can’t turn into a regular thing,” you say quickly, like if you don’t say it now, you’ll never say it at all.

His brows lift, curious and amused. His gaze trails down you body with slow precision, searching for any signs of hesitation. Then, your eyes meet again. Yours are glassy, soft from longing mixed with restraint. His - lit with intent.

“This…” He repeats the word with a pensive tone, letting his lips quirk into something maddeningly cheeky.

He wants you to finish the sentence.

“The stockroom.”

“The stockroom…” He hums in playful contemplation. “You didn’t say no. So does that mean… you’ll take me downstairs one last time?” He straightens slightly.

Your breath shortens at the question laced in mischief. But still, no words come. You don’t need them. Instead, you step out from behind the counter, brushing fingertips against his hand as you pass. You flip the sign and lock the door.

You lead the way to the back; each step thickens the silence. Then, you push the wooden door open and close it behind him with a soft click.

In a flash, your back is pushed against the cold surface. Jooyeon’s bruised hands cup your jaw.

The kiss comes immediately. There’s tension, and something that makes it feel urgent. For a moment it has you thinking that maybe he’s been holding himself back all day. Maybe he’s been thinking of you all these days he didn’t drop by.

Maybe this is turning into something.

“Turn around.” He commands, forehead still pressed against yours, as if he wants to see you obey while also wanting to keep his tongue in your mouth for a little longer.

The voices in your head fade; your body listens.

Jooyeon takes your wrists, forcing them high against the door.

Your head turns to the side as the rest of you stills with warm anticipation. Soon, the thrill tangles with something stronger, more desperate as his touch slides down your sides, stimulating every single nerve in your body.

As if his hands know their way, he shifts, effortlessly unbuttoning your trousers without even looking. The clothing material grazes your legs, then the cool air hits the area between your thighs - your underwear is pulled to the ground too.

The presence of his touch is warm against your waist again, but this time accompanied by a steady squeeze from his fingertips. He grounds himself in the curve of your lower back, your hips and ass while his teasing lips trail the shell of your ear.

“Naughty.”

A deliberate slap lands on your cheek, forcing your mouth open. The sharp sound echoes throughout the walls, bringing immediate heat to your face - this might be the filthiest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“I don’t think you realise what a naughty girl you are.”

You jolt when he strikes again. Then - one more time, - almost erasing the thoughts in your brain for a moment.

The third slap is when the realisation hits you - how heavy Jooyeon’s hand is. You don’t need to see him to know he isn’t putting real effort in smacking you. And yet, the action makes you wince against the door with its stinging thrill every time.

“Do you?”

It takes you a moment to realise this is a question. All parts of your brain are completely distracted by his fingertips now near your pussy lips. They’re wet from his spit as he presses them in between, and the more they slide back and forth, the higher your body temperature rises.

“Jooyeon…”

Your mouth salivates, your fingers almost crawling at the door.

“I know baby, I know,” he coos in response, pretending to have some pity while inviting his fingers through your entrance. “You want it really bad, don’t you?”

“I do,” You let out a whine as you ever so slightly rock into his touch; chasing the rushing flood of delight. “So bad…”

Warm shivers coarse through you as his lips keep caressing the shell of your ear, heating it up with his breaths. His fingers curl towards the right angle, aiming deeper. As a response, your pussy flutters, producing alluringly wet sounds at every move.

“Yeah, that’s right… you do.” Jooyeon whispers, flexing his hand in order to hit your sweet spot in a relentless speed.

The pace intensifies in an instant; you can’t decide if Jooyeon is simply this impatient by nature or if it’s the stolen time pushing him to take what he wants fast. Either way, he knows you well now… he’s learned enough about you - pretty much, every spot that makes you melt with just a few flicks of his fingers.

The proof is there, in the way your legs threaten to buckle beneath you. In the frantic rhythm of your chest, rising and falling in quick, shallow waves. And in the sounds… so impossible to control or suppress, spilling out of you, echoing throughout the space.

“This pussy has been waiting for me,” he rasps proudly before his words melt into a lazy laugh, “my hand is fuckin’ soaked.”

Your lips part, a weak protest trembles in your throat, but it dies the moment his fingers curl just right. Your body answers before you, causing your spine to arch. “Please—” A helpless sound slips out. “Can I… please…”

Jooyeon’s lips let out a hushed laugh. His touch vanishes.

“Why did you tell me to leave if you want my cock so bad, darling?” He asks, landing another sharp slap to your ass; his tone rough and calculated, similar to his touch.

The question cuts right through the chaos in your head.

“I— I don’t know,” you whine, helpless from the fire under your skin.

Your parted legs twitch with anticipation, nerves crackling. The sharp sound of his zipper behind you makes your breath hitch. Instinctively, you turn your head.

Your eyes fall - his thick length is exposed, the flushed tip glistening.

A spark of desire pulls you forward. Without hesitation, you trail palms up his chest, kissing him. Your fingers find he hem of his shirt, eager to pull it up, to feel more of him - his heat, his skin, the way his body tenses under your touch.

But before you can take what you want, Jooyeon’s hand clamps around your jaw, halting your movement. Your fingers slip away.

“Did I say you can turn around?” He mutters with voice low and gravelly. His eyes narrow at you. “When did your little dirty hands got so bold?”

Your disappointment flashes too quickly to hide and he grins at it. Then, he twirls you back around, his hand pressing firmly on the back of your head.

“Stay there,” he instructs. His breath is hot against your neck as he pushes your cheek against the door.

The wood is cold, a sharp contrast to the burning heat across your skin, that’s also pooling low in your core.

You hear him behind you - the rustle of clothes, the deliberate rhythm of his hand as he strokes himself. After a moment, his hand settles on your hip, gripping with purpose; his hard length enters you in a single unrelenting thrust.

The sensation flows through you like a drug you’ve been craving to take for days. You can’t even make a sound. Just brace your palms against the door and remember to breathe as he adjusts both hands tight around your waist.

“One minute you’re all diligent and smart,” Jooyeon grunts, lifting a hand to press it against your head. “The next you go dumb. Not very convenient for a bookseller… don’t you think?”

The pace he sets is fast; every movement is angled just right, hitting the spot that makes your breath hitch. The sounds of your skin meeting fills the stockroom, echoing recklessly; erasing every last thought of caution you previously had.

“Maybe I should put my dick in your mouth to shut you up,” he says; you can hear the devilish smirk. “How about that, babydoll?”

His eyes rake over the curve of your spine, the way your ass bounces with each slick smack.

“Jooyeon—“ your voice breaks into a mewl, “please…”

“Please what?” Jooyeon lets out a wicked chuckle. “Begging me to fuck your mouth or to stay inside your small cunt? Speak.”

“Stay,” you plead, dangerously louder. “Stay inside me, please!”

“There you go,” he titters low, voice laced in artificial sweetness. His half-lidded eyes gaze down enticed by your jiggly cheeks. “The naughty slut can speak!”

Your orgasm builds and builds, wanting so badly to get you to your peak as Jooyeon’s hands grasp onto you, fingernails grazing your bare skin.

“I know you're a smart bookworm, sweetheart.” He says but you’re struggling to focus; your mind is too clouded, your whole body humming. “You just go a little dumb from my cock, but that’s okay… I kinda like it.”

You shriek - the climax slams into you, turning your brain blank. Jooyeon’s deep groan of approval vibrates at your ear.

“You liked that?” He asks, satisfied. Then, he thrusts one last time - so deep and hard that a white flash sparks behind your eyes. “You like creaming my cock, don’t you? So needy for it… you can barely stand.”

He pulls out with a sharp exhale, stepping back to create some distance but not enough to take his eyes off you.

For you it’s a little bit harder - your limbs feel like jelly, trembling beneath the weight of your climax. Your knees bend, and you remain squatting against the door, heart thudding in your chest.

Jooyeon stands there, face flushed and smug, watching you with a gaze that’s enough to pin you in place. Then, his phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

He pulls it out, but he doesn’t glance at the screen right away, instead, he stares at you for a second longer before answering.

“Yeah,” he says, low and flat. “I told you, I’ll be there.”

His eyes are still focused entirely on your face. Like the person on the other end isn’t of importance. Not right now, at least. Or not at all.

You can’t hear what the other person is saying, you can only watch Jooyeon pause, the eye contact remaining steady between you, unwavering. He slowly lifts his other hand, his index finger gesturing you to get closer.

Your breath catches as his lips part again.

“Not a problem,” he forms a half-smirk; at you or the caller - you don’t know for sure. He hangs up without saying goodbye, then walks to the desk to leave his phone. “What are you still doing there, doll? Legs not working?”

You open your mouth to respond but the words stick in your throat.

“Crawl then.” His smoot voice dips mischievously; the dark amusement shoots straight through you.

Before your mind fully catches up, your body is already obeying. Dazed, with knees against the cold floor, you make your way toward him slowly.

Jooyeon stills, savouring each second of the moment. At once, his fist begins moving along his throbbing cock. “Come on,” he drawls. “Before someone starts looking for their favorite bookseller.”

He knows you’re on edge because of the risk. He also knows you’re still going to choose to have a few more stolen minutes with him. And beneath his words he’s making fun of you for it.

Once you reach him, he crouches, and his hands find your hips, trailing over your curve before giving a sharp, possessive squeeze.

“Fuck, this body…” he murmurs more like he’s talking to himself, “drives me insane.”

Then, he takes a hold of your jaw, tilting your face until you’re forced to meet his eyes. “Up, up, up…” the intensity in his gaze doesn’t falter. “On your feet…”

You rise slowly, still slightly unsteady, but his other hand finds your waist to keep you anchored. “There you go… I think I can use you some more, hm…”

He guides you backwards until you press against the nearest bookshelf. The wooden frame rattles as your back meets it.

Before you know it, he’s holding your one leg draped over his arm, and shoving himself back into you with a groan.

The new angle is sharper, deeper… somehow even more striking than anything you’ve done so far.

Your moans spill out without restraints; Jooyeon, close enough to kiss you, swallows them all like air. Your voice is hoarse now, worn thin from the high pleasure coursing through you. But that new rasp, a sexy mixture of desperation and exhaustion is like a sweet, addicting treat on his tongue.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, trailing a hand up your figure only to rest it around your neck. “Look at the mess you become… and you’re gonna pretend you don’t want me around?”

Your jaw drops for a silent yelp, only for your teeth to sink into your bottom lip, preventing the approaching whimpers.

“Open,“ Jooyeon grunts, not approving of the possible silence. As he observes your mouth slowly opening again, his fingers tighten a little bit. “Yeah, baby, I wanna hear you… want you whimpering like a little bitch.” He squeezes at the sides of your throat, just to send a quick shiver down your spine.

You can’t answer. Not when his thrusts keep coming, not with the way your breath stutters at the weight of his hand. Not with the heat of his gaze that only darkens as you pulse around him.

Your hands search for anything to hold onto… anything to keep you tethered while your system floods with heat and passion. His demanding fingers remain locked as his perfect length drags amazingly through your trembling walls.

“Say my name,” he mutters.

Your palms fist pleadingly in his shirt, your eyes rolling back at your skull as the rush grows fast - too fast. The grip on your throat somehow speeding up the process to your release.

“Say my name,” he repeats, his voice rougher this time; not in a mean way but rather just… thirsty; craving something only he knows about. “Say it.”

The grip tightens and you open your eyes. You look like you’re about to shatter in his hands. Like he’s about to fuck the breath out of your lungs.

“J-Joo… Jooyeon—“

It comes out shaky and wrecked, but it instantly sinks into his fogged mind, sparking something inside his chest too.

His hand retrieves, and you cough once, unable to catch up easily with your breaths. You cling to him, arms wrapped around his frame; the high so strong it almost feels frightening.

A book or two tumble from the shelf as Jooyeon puts all effort into focusing on maintaining his motions, magnifying them, even as he’s close to falling apart just the same.

He’s drowning in the way you feel in that moment - hot, dripping, squishing tight - drowning in the sound of your voice breaking right at his ear. In the thrill of your fingers pulling on his hair.

Another title lands on the ground with a thud as he makes the final thrusts against you, sharp and quick, making your thighs quiver.

When he finally lets go of you, neither of you speaks, because neither of you really knows what to say. You just breathe, heavy and scattered. Dizzy and suddenly much lighter. But the feeling of something being left unsaid, unfinished, lingering in the thick air is definitely mutual.

You keep him company for a few minutes while he smokes a cigarette outside, then slip back inside after he leaves.

Not even a full minute later two girls around your age walk in. They offer a quick hello, polite but distracted, before going back into their hushed conversation.

But the store is small. You hear everything.

“No, that was him! Jooyeon!” The taller girl insists, barely lowering her voice. She picks up a book from the nearest shelf, but her eyes never leave her friend. “My sister went to high school with him. She had the biggest crush, but… his reputation has always been a little shady. She never told me details but it’s obvious he’s the kind of guy you’re better off staying away from.”

─── ✍︎

Luckily, Jiseok stops by the next afternoon, and that keeps your mind occupied with something else other than the things you heard yesterday.

You take another bite from the cinnamon roll he brought, listening to his story - a silly moment from work with his middle aged coworker; he had a lot of those, and he effortlessly made them ten times funnier with his theatrical gestures and impressive abilities to mimic the expressions of those involved in his stories.

Just as you burst in laughter again, the bell chimes, and the two of you see Jooyeon.

For some reason he pauses at the door. His gaze slowly alternates between you and Jiseok as his lips part. “Am I interrupting something?” His voice is steady but he doesn’t seem relaxed like usual. He recognises him.

You shake your head, still smiling. “No, we’re just chatting. This is Jiseok,” you point at the black haired boy beside you who hurries to wave. “He works at the café across the street. Keeps me well fed,” you laugh before picking up your cup to take a sip.

Jooyeon’s gaze falls on the counter - on the coffee, on the last few bites left of the sweet treat. Instead of getting closer to all of that, he chooses to remain on the opposite side of the store, leaned back against a near shelf.

“Perks of knowing a barista.” Jiseok offers a friendly grin.

“I’m Jooyeon.”

You turn to the boy next to you as he murmurs a quick nice to meet you. You catch his eyes briefly scanning Jooyeon, and you know he’s noticing the same things you are - the unreadable expression, the crooked, barely formed smile that looks forced, especially accompanied by his flat uninterested tone.

“Well,” he emits a sigh with an improvised look at his watch, “duty calls.”

And like that, you’re left with Jooyeon in the familiar silence of the bookstore.

Finally, he steps forward, gaze piercing through the glass door. “You two always do that?”

You raise a brow. “Do what?”

“This…” His hand gestures vaguely at the counter. “Keeping each other fed.”

“Oh, you mean the coffee? Yeah, he brings me stuff all the time.”

Jooyeon tilts his chin higher, fixating his eyes upon your face. “He brings you stuff all the time?”

“Yeah, sometimes he brings me whatever’s left at the end of his shift.” You shrug shoulders lightly, taking another sip.

“Must be nice,” he crosses arms in front of his chest, “getting free shit from your… café guy.”

“He’s not my café guy.” You laugh, holding onto your cup. “He’s just a friend.”

“Yeah, yeah. I doubt he thinks the same thing.” His lips curve into a smirk but his eyes have a flame that makes it feel like no other.

You hold onto his gaze, responding to that smile despite not being entirely sure of its meaning.

“Are you one of those guys who think a boy and a girl can’t be friends without it turning into something else?”

“I don’t know,” his voice slightly dips thoughtfully, “I’ve never really met a girl who only wanted to be friends with me.”

The corners of his lips curve as he pauses long enough for the implication to sink in.

“Not my fault.” He shrugs as you scoff. “You’re pretty chatty today,” he swiftly changes the subject. “Did that guy brighten your mood?”

“You mean Jiseok?” you remind him of his name. “I’m just having a good day.”

“I can make it even better.” His voice dips like he has something on his mind. “I want to take you for a walk.”

“For a walk?” You giggle. “Sounds like you’re planning to put me on a leash.”

Noticing a small tag that must’ve slipped silently from one of the new arrivals, you step away from the counter. As you bend to pick it up, Jooyeon shifts too, not leaving you out of sight.

“I’m not opposed to it.”

You strengthen, then turn around only to catch him smirking with intent. “Weirdo,” you roll your eyes.

But you can’t stop the flush that rises to your cheeks so you look away.

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” He teases. “So, what do you say? Can I take you for a ride around the city or something?”

“I finish work at seven.”

The cool wind brushes against your face as you slightly roll down the window. The streets glow in passing lights, the road is quiet but not empty still. Jooyeon’s eyes gaze ahead as he keeps one hand on the wheel. His expression looks even sharper beneath the illuminating lights, even more magnetic.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye as a moment of silence settles in his car - it doesn’t feel awkward nor empty, you’ve been talking a lot since he picked you up after work. In fact, this is your longest conversation with him so far.

Eventually, you turn to him, settling your vision upon his jawline colored in neon hues. “Which club do you work at? You never mentioned it.”

“I haven’t?” He murmurs almost to himself. Then, as the seconds pass by, he half-grins. “Can you even name a single club? Has a good girl like you ever set foot in such place?”

“Jooyeon,” you scowl at his teasing, “I know what a club is! I’m not that sheltered.”

He shoots you a quick glance, then looks back at the road. “Sure you do.”

“Drive me there,” you say before you can stop yourself, “I want to see it.”

Falling for someone whose past, and present, is still a locked door is not easy. It’s kind of terrifying even.

But right now, you feel some sort of spell in this intimate darkness that you share. You feel hope creeping through - that if you press gently, he’ll open up a little.

The turn signal clicks in the silence. Jooyeon doesn’t look at you as his grip slightly tightens around the wheel. “It’s not far from here.” He offers you a discreet smile as a response.

Your chest flutters warmly. It feels like you unlocked a small achievement.

With quiet anticipation, you sip on your drink. The music keeps humming from the speakers while Jooyeon drives, and it doesn’t take long before he slows down the car.

“Right here,” he lifts a finger, gesturing toward the building; though it’s a smaller one, it immediately grabs one’s attention with its flashing lights. “There are much better clubs, though. If you plan on going wild this weekend.”

You roll your eyes at the comment as he continues ahead.

You don’t know where he’s going to take you next, but you don’t mind. You don’t even feel the need to ask. All that matters right now is that you’re next to him.

You can explore the city with him like this, aimlessly and quietly, for what feels like forever.

─── ✍︎

You get the bad news a week later. The bookstore is closing.

Your boss and her husband have been talking about moving abroad for over a year, and now the decision is final. The paperwork is in motion and the shop’s days are numbered.

Fortunately, you’re not too affected, because you have your second job - copywriting from home, - and that’s steady enough to carry you through while you start the search for a new nine-to-five. Still, there’s a dull ache in your chest. You’re going to miss not only the two of them, but the place too. It holds a lot of memories.

You’re halfway through telling your closest friend the news over the phone, when you hear your name echo from the stairwell. You turn to see your boss emerging from the stockroom. Her eyes are bright with something you can’t read just yet.

“Is this yours?”

You glance behind your shoulder, still holding the phone to your ear.

She must have noticed the way your eyes bulge, because she grins before stepping forward to hand you the lighter between her fingers. “Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“Thanks,” you say slowly, still perplexed where could she possibly have discovered it. “But I—“

“You started smoking?!” Your friend squeals in disbelief through the speaker.

“No!” You murmur repeatedly; you almost forgot she’s still on the phone, overhearing everything. “It’s not mine.” You lower your voice as your boss returns downstairs.

“Oh… Ohhh!!!” Your friend connects the dots. “Is it… Have you seen him lately?”

“Not since that night.”

“Well, now you have a reason to call him! Right?”

“Yeah,” you say, hesitating. “That was the deal.”

“Or,” her voice shifts, a sly note creeping in, “you could just show up at the bar. Be spontaneous like him for once.”

“Isn’t that kind of invasive?”

“No, babe, it’s a night club! People are supposed to go there and have fun!”

“You know what I mean,” you murmur.

“I know, I know,” she says softer this time. “But come on. He drops by your work all the time! It’s your turn now.”

“Okay,” you run a finger along the edge of the counter, “I’ll think about it.”

“Which means,” she mutters lowly, “you’re going to chicken out.”

“No! I promise.” You manage a half-smile though she can’t see it. “Seriously, I’ll think about it.”

What you settle on eventually is to give him a call.

You’re not quite bold enough to just show up somewhere uninvited, not yet. Besides, between long shifts at the bookstore and the endless cycle of job applications, the idea of putting on real shoes for a club with banging music feels more exhausting than exciting.

So you call.

It rings. Once. Twice. Then goes to voicemail. You stare at the screen; something forms in the pit of your stomach.

Maybe he had a long shift last night and he’s catching up on sleep. Maybe he’s driving. Or maybe he left his phone in the car. He’ll call you back.

But he doesn’t.

Hours pass. You close up the bookstore just as the last streaks of daylight start fading, and head home. You choose the longer route this time, wanting to enjoy the cool spring air a little longer as the season is slowly nearing its end.

In one hand, you carry a newly released novel you’re excited to read at home, in the other - your phone. You dial again.

Maybe he saw the first missed call and meant to reply but got distracted.

Your heart is loud in your chest, your teeth chewing your bottom lip in anticipation. But the long signals just keep going. You count them one by one as they leave you without an answer.

─── ✍︎

You’re not stupid. You can see what’s happening here - Jooyeon got what he wanted, and now he’s pulling away, hoping you’ll take the hint without him having to say the words out loud. Deliberately turning something which at one point felt real into a casual thing.

Even after all the ways he made you believe it was more than that.

You keep analysing the ways he looked at you, the way he laughed at your silly retellings of the books you read, the way he lingered in the store like he didn’t want to leave. All of it felt genuine, real… but now, you have to face reality.

You have to admit it no matter how ashamed it may make you feel. You were tricked.

Someone who actually cares wouldn’t ignore your calls for two days straight. He’d send a message. A check-in. Hey, busy. I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Something. But he didn’t. He decided to stay silent, and that silence tells you more than any conversation with him could.

When your shift ends and you find him standing outside the bookstore, leaning against his car like nothing’s changed, it takes everything in you to keep your expression still.

You lock the front door, leaving the keys to hang in your hand. There’s a weird flutter in your chest and you can’t tell if it’s anger or something stupid like hope.

Maybe both.

You silently slide into the passenger seat. He doesn't look at you, just starts the engine and pulls into traffic like this is some sort of a continuation of your drive around the city date.

The streets start to blur, familiar ones. He’s driving towards your place. Of course he is. He wouldn’t want to complicate things further by taking you on another date.

After a stretch of silence, he speaks first. “How was your day?”

His voice is laced with tension - not too much, just enough for you to recognise it; it’s a similar kind of tension you heard from him the day he met Jiseok.

You turn your head slowly, watching him, unsure if you want to scream or laugh. You turn back around, fidgeting with the keys.

You don’t answer right away, you let the question hang between you, allowing it to enrage you with its normalcy - the normalcy he’s trying so hard to force.

“Busy,” you reply, “they’re closing the store.”

“What?” Jooyeon murmurs. His eyes flick to you, then back to the road. “Why would they do that?”

“They have other plans for the future,” you say, chewing on your lip.

“Bummer,” he sighs; he’s back to his usual self now. He’s back to Jooyeon who didn’t disappear for two days, Jooyeon who didn’t left you spiraling, overthinking every single action, every word you’ve ever said. “I’m sorry, I know you loved that place.”

“I called you few times.” You finally spit it out.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he brings a hand to his face, rubbing his chin; maybe that’s something he does when he’s nervous or when he’s lying. Time will tell. “Work got hectic. I was knocked out the entire weekend.”

He suppresses a laugh, then taps few times on the wheel as he approaches the traffic lights.

“So much that you couldn’t send me a single message for two days?” The words come out sharper than you intended.

A frown of disapproval settles on your face when you pierce his expression with your eyes.

Until he… snaps.

“I work at a night club for god’s sake!” He raises his voice, cold; louder than you’ve ever heard it. Too focused on the road, he misses out on the way your startled body flinches next to him. “Do you think I hear my phone every time it rings?”

You go completely still. His frustration fills the space and the car suddenly feels smaller, like the air's been pulled out of it.

A moment of hesitation follows as you register his words, his change of behaviour; the thick shift in his tone. You force yourself to look away. Instead, you peer through the window, watching the streetlights sliding past one by one.

Anywhere but him.

When your time to response arrives, somehow, your voice remains calm. Sure, it does feel a little bit thinner, maybe shakier at the edges, but it’s still gentle.

“I’m not saying you should answer every time I call,” you say quietly, “but I do expect the person I’m trying to reach to call me back the next day. That’s all. It’s what people do.”

You did good - you said how you feel while keeping yourself composed. Now, all that’s left is to not burst in tears before you get home. You can’t let him see you cry. You don’t want to cry.

But you’re not sure how much longer you can hold it in. It’s just… everything’s been too much lately. It feels like everything you’ve been clinging to is slipping right through your fingers.

Jooyeon doesn’t speak, not until you’ve reached your apartment and he parks near the entrance.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he emits a sharp sigh, dragging both hands through his hair. “It’s been rough the last couple of days.”

That doesn’t make you feel any better.

It only makes you feel further frustrated with yourself because you crave to enter his world and take some of the weight off his shoulders. But how can you - when you don’t know where any of that weight is even coming from?

“I’m not sure what to do with that.” You admit after turning to look at him.

His mouth opens, then closes again, like every single excuse he can come up with is too hollow and stupid. “It’s not that simple,” he mutters.

You can’t fight back the bitter smirk that forms on your lips. How can he not see it? It is simple… so, so simple. If only he lets you in...

You shift in your seat, arms crossed as your heart hammers, dangerously close to a heartbreak.

“Things have been crazy at work, and I just… I get in my head sometimes, okay? It’s not you.” He unbuckles his belt, turning like he wants to close the distance that’s still very much there. “Seeing you is the only thing I look forward to lately.”

Your heart twists at his words; at one of his hands coming in light contact with your face.

“Hey, look at me.” He coos, coaxing. You glance his way, reluctantly, and as a result he smiles - like that one look is completely enough. “Wanna come over at my place?” He asks softly, almost playfully. “I don’t have books, but I’ve got a killer vinyl collection. I’ll let you pick what we listen to.”

You offer a faint smile that doesn’t reaches your gloomy eyes. “I’m tired. I’d like to go to bed early tonight.”

Jooyeon’s smile falters. You see the shift immediately - the quiet panic he tries to hide behind a casual laugh. “Come on, baby,” he says, leaning in just slightly. “You don’t even have to stay long. Just… hang out for one drink. One song.”

In that moment, you realise how easily this cycle could keep happening. How quickly one simple apology can turn into another kiss, and how effortlessly that kiss can turn into another forgotten call, another fight, another sorry, until you finally make it stop and ask… where is this going? What are we?

Who are you?

“Please… I know I messed up. I know I should’ve called. Can I make it up to you?”

His voice goes quieter with each word, more raw. But it effectively reaches your heart. You can feel it slowly untangling that knot of pressure.

“Okay,” you exhale at once. “I’m picking the music, though.”

“Deal.” Jooyeon nods victoriously. Without wasting a second, he positions his hands on the steering wheel.

“Oh, almost forgot,” you murmur, unzipping the bag on your lap. You find it quickly as you tucked it into one of the little pockets inside so it doesn’t get lost again. “Your lighter.”

“No way, you found the little guy!” he cheers with a broad grin.

“Well, my boss did actually,” you admit. “Now she thinks I’m hiding that I smoke.”

“How scandalous.” Jooyeon teases, already driving down the empty street.

An hour later, the night slows down even more - at the sound of the record player spinning in circles, at his arm wrapped around you like that’s exactly where you belong… on his couch, talking with him about small things - customers, weird dreams, movies, music and concerts you’ve been to… concerts you wanted to go to, but missed out on.

He makes you laugh until your stomach hurts. And later, he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom. There are no questions when you kiss. Only a mutual understanding of the fact neither of you wants the night to end just yet.

Your bodies connect, but it feels different this time. Maybe because you’re at his apartment, it feels intimate and private. Special.

You really have to block this word out of your mind.

Finally, you get to strip each other fully from your clothes; to be as loud as you need. Finally, you get to sit on top of him, explore the skin of his chest - warm, with a blooming bruise on his ribs.

“It’s from that fight I told you about,” he says quietly, pulling you closer so you’re face to face, “it’s disappearing already, don’t worry about it.”

“And it won’t happen again?” you ask, eyes tracing his feautures in the quiet dark, lit only by streaks of light slipping in from the world outside.

“It won’t,” he murmurs against your lips - soft and reasurring, like the kiss that follows.

Afterwards, you drift off beside him. Wrapped in his sheets, his breath steady and warm against the back of your neck, his arm resting on your hip, anchoring you in a moment of serenity.

Is anything fixed, though? Not really. But for one night, things are easy with him again.

─── ✍︎

Though you went to bed feeling content, sleep barely found you. By 6:30 AM you’re already awake, phone in hand and outlining an article due later this week as the faint hum of the city leaks through the window.

Next to you, Jooyeon lies sprawled on his stomach, half-covered from the sheets. He shifts, his back muscles move as he stretches one arm lazily toward you. His fingertips brush your thigh as he stirs.

You allow yourself to watch him for a moment - his hair is a mess, one side of his face is creased softly from the pillow, his mouth is relaxed, and his eyes are still closed as though what he’s been dreaming of doesn’t want to let go of him just yet.

“What time is it?” He mumbles with a low, thicker voice.

“Six thirty.”

“And you’re up already?” He groans into the pillow. “You’re crazy.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you murmur, threading fingers gently through his hair. “Go back to bed. You need the rest.”

You think he might’ve drifted off again until he rolls toward you, propping himself on an elbow.

“You wear glasses?” He asks as if he just discovered something rare. “I’ve never seen you wear glasses.”

Caught off guard, your eyes dart between your phone and the crooked smile that’s starting to show on his lips.

“I wear contact lenses at work, it’s easier.”

Jooyeon smirks freely now, then lets his gaze flicker to the glowing screen. “Texting someone?” He raises a brow.

“No,” you shake your head, “I have a remote job so I’m jotting down some notes for an article I’m working on. It’s boring.”

“Nothing you write could be boring.”

“You haven’t even read it,” you laugh.

“Then read it to me.”

And so you do - you read the few rough paragraphs you have so far, and he listens, tucking fingertips in the warmth between your bare thighs, watching your chest move peacefully from your steady breaths.

When you’re done, he shifts even closer. “You’re so smart,” he says, almost in a whisper.

You can’t help, but laugh again, nudging him lightly with your knee. “You say it like I just solved world peace or something.”

“What I mean is,” he grins with his eyes suddenly gleaming, “you can make the most mundane things sound impressive.”

The butterflies lingering in your stomach flutter wilder as you glance at him. Your smile now covers your entire face.

“And you look extremely hot with these glasses on,” he continues, giving you a gentle pinch; a subtle, but familiar tension wraps around his lazy voice.

“Yeah, yeah…” you roll your eyes at him. You lock your phone and turn to put it away - just something to distract you from the electricity that’s running through your body.

“You don’t believe me?” His tone elevates in a playful disbelief. Then, his confident grip finds your wrist, guiding it toward him. “What about now?”

Your hand automatically palms him. He’s so hard that you can feel his cock pressing against the fabric of his underwear, twitching beneath your touch. The corners of his mouth are tugged by a faint smirk before he lets out a low moan - his hand applies some pressure and your fingers tighten.

“Do you know how many times I’ve woken up wanting your mouth around my cock?” He asks, but he does not give you a time to answer.

He grazes your lips with his wet tongue, stealing your breath with a kiss - one that lands so powerfully, you’d almost describe it as desperate if you didn’t know him.

Your touch continues rubbing in light patterns before shifting to the waistband. “Well, I’m here now.”

“You are,” Jooyeon hums, “gonna play with it?”

Biting your lip, you nod coyly. There’s a brand new excitment flooding your veins as you settle between his spread out thighs, tugging down the elastic.

“You like having things in your mouth, don’t you?” He slowly reaches for you, pressing down against your bottom lip. “I’ve seen you chew on that pencil of yours.” Gazing at you through a haze of sleep, eyes heavy lidded, he follows the automatic movement of your tongue that peeks out, swiping the tip of his thumb. “Spit on it.”

When you do, he exhales slowly, watching the string fall between you with fascination. He looks completely mesmerised - by the sight of you wearing his loose t-shirt, glasses slightly slipping down your nose…

You’re gorgeous.

Locking fingers around him, gently and warm, you make the first strokes with precision. A small groan crawls out of his throat, leisurely.

Your tongue salivates more as you study the satisfied look in his gaze that tracks the movements of your tongue - licking a strip from the base all the way to his tip; wrapping lips around it. The taste of him, masculine, new, slightly salty, arouses your senses, awakening something deeper as your mouth moves around him in slow, deliberate rhythm. There’s no rush, no urgency. It’s not that you’re trying to be a tease as you suck softly… you just want to… savour him.

You don’t just want to please him - you want to leave something unforgettable. You want to brand this into his memory, make it one of those moments he’ll think back to when he’s alone.

You want to make it a core memory. If you ever told him that, he’d probably laugh. He’d call it ridiculous or silly. He wouldn’t understand.

Your lips, now slippery, easily glide lower, stretching further in order to adjust around his thickness. They apply the perfect amount of pressure, releasing more and more moisture with the help of your roaming tongue. Your careful grip continues to twist.

“Fuck,” Jooyeon exhales in relief; it sounds like something closer to amazement. “Why didn’t we do this sooner,” he trails off.

His words cause your eyes to light up and you invite them upon his face. A smirk, half playful, half daring, is stretching his lips.

“Your mouth is incredible, baby,” he gasps as you squeeze his tip tighter before detaching with a pop. “Holy fuck— I want to see you take all of it… think you can do that for me?” His tone dips as he tries to make it come out more tender.

“I can try,” you murmur, easening your fist until it completely stills. “Will you help me out?” You take his hand, guiding it toward your head.

For a moment, Jooyeon goes quiet, just staring at you; eyes dark with something between awe and desire. It’s wild how easily you get to him. The way your voice softens into genuine curiousity that crawls under his skin, setting it on fire like no dirty talk ever has. It turns him on more than the filthiest things he’s ever heard whispered in his ear - and he’s heard a lot.

“Of course, doll,” he coos, tapping your chin with the shiny tip of his cock. He notices your gaze drop. “What’s going through that little head of yours?”

“I… It’s really big.”

He titters, still resting comfortably against the cushions. “You like it in your pussy, right?” He asks lightly, like the answer to this is a known fact. “You’ll like it in your mouth too.”

“I already do,” you admit, caressing his thigh. Too easily to your own surprise.

“Shit,” Jooyeon sighs, giving himself a few firm strokes. “I’m not used to hearing you talk like that, baby… drives me crazy.”

His fist picks up the speed now, each stroke more desperate than the last, and you realise you could watch him like this for hours - chasing pleasure, breathless and lost in the moment. His groans spill freely in the air between you. Something about the way he doesn’t even try to hold back makes your pulse quicken.

He’s breathtakingly handsome - he always is, but especially now. With hair tousled and messy from the pillows; brows drawn tight with tension.

Acknowledging the warmth spreading inside you, your thighs discreetly shift. You’re completely naked underneath his shirt, so even the lightest squeeze from your muscles brings a thrill to your core. In addition, the gradual change of his breathing makes your clit throb for touch.

Until his hand retrieves so he can spit on his fingers; they smear it along his skin, brushing over the vein that travels up his length.

“My smart little slut is obsessed with that cock, huh?” he bites on his bottom lip, placing a hand on top of your skull. “Say aaah!”

Your mouth opens, welcoming an inch. Then another - Jooyeon lowers you down, eager to chase your tight throat. Instantly, you feel the stretch in both cheeks, abrupt and warm. Eventually the last bit of his thick base disappears through your lips too; his hand keeps you pressed against his pelvis, making the moment last.

The corners of your mouth begin to drool as you slobber uncontrollably.

“One,” he counts patiently, “two… three…”

Unable to endure any longer, you gag. The sound reverberates through Jooyeon’s body and he groans approvingly - yeah, it’s filthy, but to him it sounds like a seductive purring at his ear.

“Fuck, you have so much spit, baby.” He mutters, locking back fingers around his cock. “Look at that, it’s soaked.”

His fist effortlessly slides up and down; you lean just a fraction, listening closely to the slick noise of your saliva on his skin - it excites your brain immensely, clouding it further as you listen.

You glance at him, half-teasing, half-curious. “You like it?”

“What do you think?” His brows lift in a challenge, but when you pause long enough to make him wonder, he breaks into a quiet laugh. “Of course I do, I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

You smile coyly, and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. This only smears the drool on your cheek, and Jooyeon, too tempted to wait another minute, says: “Now, show me your pussy.”

You find the hem of his dark t-shirt and lift it slowly; his gaze brightens at the sight but quickly returns to your face. “The other way,” he specifies.

You turn around slowly, guiding your legs to either side of his hips until you’re straddling him - now, faced with the view of the door of his bedroom. Your knees sink into the mattress as your body settles over his. Bringing the shirt to your stomach with one hand, you lean forward a bit.

Jooyeon’s fingers momentarily find the heat between your thighs.

The position feels so different than everything you’ve done before but you don’t have time to overthink it - the moment his touch comes in contact with your pulsing hole, you whine in desperation, arching spine.

“There she is,” he announces; his tone is a thrilling mixture of pride and amusement. “Already wet… just from getting a single taste from my cock.”

He drags out his long fingers then grasps your ass cheek with his big palm. The jiggle of your flesh pulls out a hissing noise from his mouth; as though he needs to hold back from sinking his teeth.

“This is such a good view, baby, fuck—“ he says with an erotic rasp. “Get a little closer.”

You carefully move backwards, gaze landing on his erection that’s still twitching hard. Once he speaks again, the realisation that you’re practically hovering over his mouth hits you like a truck.

“Relax…” his hot breath caresses your pussy lips, so inviting, “just a little lower, get comfy.” He moves firm hands on the sides of your body, anchoring you to the surface of his face so you don’t slip away.

His smile dissipates the second he sticks out his tongue to lick you up. Immediately, not even a second later, he goes for another stripe - slower, and more intense. Your body trembles from the warm thrill, causing his fingertips to dig harder into your skin.

“Holy fuck,” he gasps beneath you. “So fucking sweet.”

At first his tongue swirls slow, without any particular direction, but then you start to notice… how instead of flicking and twirling, he flattens it in order to lick through your folds with deep, strong dragging motions.

The sensation makes you moan louder to which he immediately responds by dragging his tongue up your slick even harder only to switch to an open mouthed kiss.

His dilated eyes stay closed as his pink lips find your sensitive clit, stimulating the bud with a playful sucking. The teasing pressure sends a ripple of pleasure through you, and though the dirty sound of it makes your mind glitch, your hips move on its own, rolling down to seek more.

“Mmm… more—” Jooyeon’s groans of approval vibrate against your slick. His right hand lands a steady smack on your hip, encouraging you to grind on his mouth again.

And before you realise, as he makes out with your cunt like he can’t decide whether to take his time with you or just eat you up in one big bite - you’re doing it. You sway your lower half, eyes shut in bliss thanks to his bold tongue; fists clenching around the sheets as you leak right onto his soft lips.

And in those few seconds, Jooyeon’s mind turns overheated with a single thought running through it - harder, faster, harsher. He wants to hear you cum right here, right now.

“Come on, baby.” He grips your ass, so strongly, like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded, pressing you back and forth on his warm face. “Come on…” The groans slipping from his wet lips elevate beneath you; the sounds are so profound, like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever gotten the privilege of ever having.

“God— don’t stop, please,” you moan, finally getting a hold of his cock in front of you.

Until now, you’ve been too overwhelmed to think, too consumed to respond in any way other than moaning for more. But now, you close fingers around him, barely using any strength.

“Right there,” you mewl weakly, hearing him instantly respond with a muffled groan, “fuck! I’m cumming—”

And when the waves roll through you, you stop thinking altogether. Letting out sounds of pleasure you can’t fake even if you tried.

Jooyeon feels every single twitch of your thighs, each grind of your slick folds as you give into the euphoria; he feels how your motions shift from measured to sluggish as overstimulation starts creeping in.

Then - his voice cracks, so involuntary it sends a new jolt straight through you. His chest trembles under you as a gasp escapes him - sharp and unguarded. Neither of you notice the exact moment it happens… or what exactly about the mild touch of your fist provokes it… but all it takes is one more rub of your pussy, warm and oozing, against his lips and he…

“Oh fuck—” the guttural noise leaves his throat; something between a gasp and a whimpering sound you’ve never heard from him before. It instantly cuts through the haze, shifting your focus on his uneasy feet, kicking one or two times. On the way his whole body jerks off the bed as the pulses of pleasure shake through him.

His cum shoots out of his cock, causing the slick glide of your palm to stutter for a second as it all lands messily on your face. Strings of hot arousal spray the lenses of your glasses, a few more - your chin and lips. A few droplets get caught in your hair.

Jooyeon can do nothing but tighten his grip against your waist, like he’s holding on for dear life, toes curling against the sheets.

The silence in the room stretches, the only sound now is his overwhelmed panting, shallow and hot between your sweating thighs. You shift away slowly, every movement extra careful. When you turn to face him, your breath is still catching in uneven waves.

Jooyeon chuckles as his gaze lands on you, “Fuck, I wish I could’ve seen that.”

The grin tugging at his lips though lazy is evidently stunned, like he’s trying to catch up with what happened. And once he does, he continues staring - like he’s about to devour you with all of that cum on your face.

You slide your messy glasses off, leaving them on the bed. Jooyeon curls one arm behind his head while the other stays draped over his chest. But it’s the sight of his face that makes your stomach swirl.

Half of it glistens in the soft light, a mixture of sweat and arousal - your arousal, your mark. It’s all over his mouth, the curve of his jaw, his nose. His hair clings in places, a few playful strands falling over his forehead. His lips are swollen and parted because he’s still normalising his breathing.

And somehow, it only makes him look even more devastatingly beautiful.

“You’re staring,” he says amused.

Your lips twitch for a moment. “Can you blame me?” you murmur back.

He exhales a laugh, closing his eyes for a brief second. “Come here.” His fingers reach lazily toward you, brushing the inside of your wrist. “Just… stay like this for a bit,” his hoarse voice drops softer. “Maybe I can sleep for an hour more.”

And you do - after you clean yourself up, you return to bed and you stay. You lean in, settling beside him; your heartbeat once frantic, slows to a steady, calm rhythm. Neither of you says anything more. The silence wraps around you both like a soft blanket.

And like that, though you hadn’t meant to, you drift off too.

─── ✍︎

“Officially off duty?” A familiar voice calls as the bell chimes.

You turn to see Jiseok walking in. The last strands of sunlight spill down the street behing his shoulders.

“Your caffeine dealer has arrived,” he says with a grin, handing you a small paperbag.,“but this time I’m bringing something else. Consider it a reward for surviving the day.”

“Thanks,” you smile, accepting the package without any questions. “Are you heading home?”

“Yeah, that was enough for today,” he waves a hand, “I have so much studying to do.” He exhales, leaning exhausted against the counter.

“Was the exam this Friday?” You glance at him while putting on your jacket.

“Yeah, I already feel my brain dissolving.”

The way he groans against the counter has you laughing quietly. “The stuggles of a noble programming student slash part-time barista,” you tease with a grin.

“Speaking of struggles,” he lifts his head, spotting you with keys in hand. “We’re hosting a singles party at the café in two weeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious.” Jiseok says dryly. “Manager’s idea, not mine.”

“Sounds tragic.”

“It will be,” he lifts hands, “but I’ll be in charge of the music so…”

“Is this your way of making it sound better so I’ll actually come?” you ask, raising a brow as you flip the last switch behind the counter.

“Depends,” he chuckles. “Are you gonna come because you’re single or because you’ll keep an eye on me in case some dangerously flirty strangers try to eat me alive? You know… because of how absurdly charming I am?”

“Maybe I’ll come for the free drinks,” you tease, grabbing your tote bag and heading toward the staircase.

“Wow,” he says, clutching his chest dramatically, “and here I thought we had something special.”

“We do,” you smirk over your shoulder. “It’s called friendship, remember?”

Jiseok raises both hands in mock surrender, the crooked smile not leaving his lips. “I know, I know. Just putting the option out there...”

You laugh softly, shaking your head.

Jiseok’s flirty jokes always land soft. It’s like he’s testing the waters without expecting anything in return. Yeah, maybe he does have a small crush on you, as your boss says. But you know he’d never push. It’s just not the type of person he is. Jiseok always respects your space and boundaries. Whatever feelings he may have, he carries them lightly, because he values you as a friend. Guys like him are rare nowadays.

“I don’t know if watching people struggle with small talk is my thing,” you say at once.

“Fair enough,” he nods. The lightness in his voice suddenly dips, though. “Hey, is everything alright? You’ve been making jokes and all but… I dunno. You seem a little off.”

You pause with your hand on the stair rail. “Oh, uh… I’m fine, just… some things have been happening lately.” You hesitate, then add: “Let’s keep this between us, alright?” You glance around before meetin his gaze again. “The store’s closing.”

Jiseok’s posture straightens as the humour from earlier drains from his face. This is the first time you see his smile actually faltering.

“Shit...” His voice is much quieter now. “It always kind of felt… like it’s yours.”

“Yeah, it’s weird.” You smile, but it doesn’t reaches your eyes. “I can’t do anything about it, though. I’m just trying to get used to the fact that it will be gone soon.”

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I know how much it means to you.”

You nod in appreciation. Though you haven’t known each other long - four months or maybe less, - he noticed how much you care about the store.

“I’ll go check the stockroom, be right back,” you murmur.

“Alright,” he pushes off the counter. “I’ll wait outside.”

You disappear into the back room briefly, doing the usual quick check up. When you return upstairs, the store is quiet. Dusk gently slips through the windows. You give the place one last look before flipping the lights and heading to the front.

Your hand is on the doorknob when you hear it. Jiseok’s voice.

But he’s not alone. You stop mid-motion, realising there’s another voice. Perfectly familiar, but hostile like never before. Like a dog baring its teeth.

“What the fuck are you trying to say here?” Jooyeon snarls; you can hear the slow burn of his aggravation even through the muffled glass.

“What I’m saying is…” Jiseok’s voice follows, much more composed. “For whatever reason every time I come by lately she looks upset. That’s not like her.”

Upon hearing this you step back from the door. It feels… wrong. Like you’re not supposed to hear this, but you can’t stop yourself.

“Make your point already,” Jooyeon snaps.

You step closer again, slow and silent; your ear is just close enough to catch more.

“It started after you showed up.”

Your eyes narrow, breath caught in your throat as you wait for a response.

“Whatever happens between me and her…”

And then - your phone rings. The vibration rattles against your thigh as you yank it out of your pocket, cursing under your breath.

It’s your boss. You pick up the call; it’s brief, something about the upcoming discount campaign. When you hang up, you glance at the door again but the voices have gone silent.

Whatever Jooyeon was about to say, you missed it. Well, you weren’t supposed to hear it anyway.

You flip the sign to CLOSED, step outside and lock the door. The chilly air does nothing to settle the restless energy swirling in your chest, to fix the tangled thoughts in your head.

Maybe this is a good sign - his jealousy. And a good opportunity for you to finally make your relationship… real. Or clearer, at least. Maybe his jealousy means he wants more too, but doesn’t know other ways to show it.

You can’t help but think this could be the moment where things finally start to make sense between you.

He’s sitting on the curb near the side of the building, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. The smoke coils lazily around his face as the dim streetlights light up his features. The moment he catches the metallic click of the key, he tilts his head in your direction.

“Finally,” he draws, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “Thought you were never coming out.”

A lazy smirk tugs at his lips as you walk closer, but there’s something guarded in his eyes… it makes you pause before speaking up.

“You didn’t have to wait,” you hug your bag closer to your side. “Where’s Jiseok?”

Jooyeon tilts his chin higher, eyes tracing your standing figure. He takes another drag, using the moment to hold his gaze on you.

“He said he had to go,” he shrugs, smoke slipping from his lips after each syllable. As you nod quietly, his eyes lower, deliberately slow. His smirk curls in that familiar way that always has you wondering what to expect. “Pretty skirt you got there,” he remarks.

You tilt your head, letting a subtly sly grin appear. “No hi, or how was work? Just… my skirt?”

“What? I can’t appreciate good taste when I see it?”

Though his gaze has left the area of your thighs, the heat still lingers, making you tense.

“Well,” you tug lightly at the hem, “glad you noticed.”

“I notice everything, sweetheart.” His eyes sweep you once again; and though his tone is still casual, the way he looks at you is anything but that. His deep smirk falters as he takes a final drag before rubbing the cigarette against the pavement. The ember dies and he keeps the stub between his two fingers.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, hesitating how you should continue with the conversation. As his voice from earlier replays in your head, pressing harder against your mind, the silence between you only grows longer and heavier.

“You’re quiet,” you say, attempting a nonchalant tone that probably doesn’t quite land. To make it better or potentially worse, you pick a phrase of his own: “What’s going through that little head of yours?”

“Nothing,” he exhales, not catching your teasing as he glances at his feet. “Just tired. I don’t really want to go to work tonight.”

“Can’t you take a day off? You do look exhausted.”

“It’s not that easy,” he shakes his head, straightening. He walks to the nearby trash bin, tossing the stub of his cigarette. “Let’s go, I’ll drop you home.”

“Actually,” you adjust the bag over your shoulder, “I’m seeing a friend, so…”

Jooyeon’s brow arches slightly, his unreadable expression not shifting even a bit. “Okay, I’ll drive you.”

You narrow eyes, crossing arms in front of your chest. Something about him tonight feels so… off. “You don't have to play chauffeur every time I leave work.”

“That’s not what I’m doing, though,” he fires back almost tauntingly.

And just as quickly, you say: “Then what are you doing?” The question spills softly; discreetly hopeful.

You stare at him for a moment, waiting.

“I just wanted to see you.” He simply answers, his voice quieter now. Like usual, there’s that edge behind it, the one you can never seem to brake.

But it’s still something.

He sighs, forcing his eyes away. He heads where his car is but then stops mid-step at the sound of your voice calling his name.

"Jooyeon…” you take a small step forward. "Do you have something to tell me?”

“Like what?” He asks calmly.

You shake your head lightly, but your eyes waver, betraying your true feelings. “I don’t know… anything.”

Jooyeon drags a hand across his jaw. For a moment you think he might actually say something. But then, he shakes his head dismissively, opening the door to the driver’s seat.

─── ✍︎

You step out of the cab and pause at the entrance, suddenly unsure if you should go through this.

You’ve never been here before. He never invited you. You’re not dating to pay him visits like this. Still, remembering your friend’s advice you proceed, and walk in.

He said the club is nothing fancy, but it actually looks pretty impressive inside.

Bodies are already swaying slightly out of rhythm, pressed too close to your liking. You squeeze past the bar and you spot a woman behind the shiny counter.

“Hi, sorry,” you approach her, raising your voice over the music. “I’m looking for someone who works here. Jooyeon?” Noticing she barely looks up from her clipboard, you continue: “He works at the bar… he has brown hair, and…”

“No one by that name works here.”

“Sorry?”

She finally glances at you. “We don’t have anyone named Jooyeon on staff. Never have.”

It takes a second for her words to sink in. By the time you accept he lied to you, the woman has already walked away.

The night air hits you like a slap as you push through the doors and step out onto the sidewalk. Your short dress sways from the sudden breeze, brushing against your thighs as the chill clings to your skin. The music dulls behind you, but your pulse doesn’t slow. Not even a little bit.

You pull out your phone and find his name. Your fingers shake as you press the screen. He picks up on the third ring.

“Hey,” he answers casually; there’s noise overpowering his casual voice, surely coming from a crowd. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Your throat turns tighter but you manage to maintain your tone steady. “What are you up to?”

“Working. You?”

“Oh, you’re at the club?” You say almost too high-pitched. “That’s funny, because I was literally just there, but I didn’’t see you.”

A pause. For a brief moment you only listen to the strong chatter around him.

“What?”

“I was at the club, the one you said you worked at. I asked about you, but they didn’t know who I was talking about.”

“Why would you go there?”

You blink, stunned by the immediate tension in his tone. “Because I wanted to,” you shoot back.

“Jesus,” he cuts you off, pissed. “Are you my overprotective girlfriend or something? What’s next? Tracking my phone or looking through my search history?”

Your chest tightens. He doesn’t sound even close to apologetic. Just mad.

Someone shouts his name, urging him to go somewhere, because they’re waiting for him.

“You told me you work there,” you say almost in a whisper of disbelief; but then, just seconds later the anger consumes you without permission. “You drove me there and told me you work there, you lied to my face! Why lie to me?!”

“Maybe I didn’t want to deal with your drama!” He raises his voice before cooling it back into indifference. “I have to go.”

He hangs up.

─── ✍︎

“Can I come over?”

You sigh, sinking further into the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You hold your phone pressed to your ear with one hand while the other is gripping the edge of a mug with lukewarm tea you’ve forgotten to drink ever since he called.

“You’re unbelievable.” You mutter as frustration rises in your chest - a scorching type of frustration you’ve never felt before in your life.

You picture him sitting alone in his car. It’s probably parked somewhere near the bookstore because he doesn’t know you have the day off. His fingers are probably tapping the steering wheel in that jittery rhythm he picks up whenever he needs a few seconds to find the right worrds.

“There’s something I want to tell you,” he says, “I want to talk.”

“Tell me what?” you snap. “That you lied about working at that night club? That maybe there are other things you’ve lied about too? Why would I want to sit here and listen to that?”

On the other end, he goes quiet. But he’s not gone, like he was last night. You hear rustling of fabrics as he shifts in his seat, the clicking of his keys as they jingle in his lap.

“Please,” he says softer now, “I can explain… just… let me come over. I’ll tell you everything.”

You hesitate before admitting:

“I don’t even know if this—” you stop yourself, but then you close your eyes, leaning back against the cushions and you continue: “I don’t know if this… relationship without labels is for me. I don’t think I want to keep doing something that feels so unsure and distant all the time.”

There’s a silence so long you think he might hang up again. But then he speaks. “I get it,” he says slowly, “but it’s not like that.”

You don’t say anything, just draw your brows together.

“I’m not trying to mess with your head, okay?” he adds quickly. “I’m just… I’m not built for the serious relationship thing, you know. That’s not where I’m at. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you around.”

Your heart twists. You exhale quietly, trying to push out the words you should say right now - that it’s over; whatever this thing was between you. That it was a mistake.

“I like what we have, I really do,” Jooyeon’s voice turns smoother, “I’m not interested in anyone else. When I’m with you… it’s different.”

He’s good at this - saying just enough to keep you close.

“Look, let me come over,” he says, “I’ll explain everything, and after that if you want me gone, I’ll go.”

You don’t respond right away. You just sit there, staring at the front door. Imagining him walk in and how despite everything… in some twisted way his presence would feel right.

“You can come tomorrow,” you say before you have time to reconsider.

“Tomorrow,” he repeats, and the subtle shift in his voice makes the word sound like a mixture between agreement and a question.

“Yeah, 18:30.”

“I’ll be there,” he says firmly.

You hang up without waiting for a response.

─── ✍︎

Your friend is about to take a bite from her croissant when you slide a colorful paper back on the table between you. She grins like a kid waking up on Christmas morning and that’s enough to make your entire week better.

“Is it time?”

You nod, leaning in as if the two of you are scheming about someone’s downfall, and not exchanging spicy romance books.

“My Killer Vacation,” she announces solemnly, “a brash bounty hunter and an energetic elementary school teacher become the murder-solving team no one asked for… okay, fun!”

“You mentioned you’ve been in the mood for a mystery thriller,” you say before taking a sip from your drink.

“I did,” she smirks. “And what’s better than a mystery thriller with a steamy plot to make my toes curl?”

She cackles along and hands over your title. The blue, summary cover immediately catches your eye. It Happened One Summer by Tessa Bailey. “Isn’t this about a fisherman?” You flip to the back.

“Have you read it?”

“No, but I’ve seen it a lot,” you say.

You both take a moment to flip through the pages. It’s your tradition - gifting each other the most unserious, utterly spicy and cliché love stories you can find, and buddy reading them. It started last year after a really bad day and never really stopped.

“Wait, we got each other books by the same author,” your friend grins, “this is a first.” She puts the novel away then intertwines fingers in front of her. In a flash her tone shifts. “Okay, are we going to talk about him? The liar?”

You sigh, unsure where to start. “Yeah, he… lied to me,” you admit. “He said he works at this night club, but I went there and turns out no one by that name works there.”

“That’s weird. Did you ask him about it?”

“Yeah, he got all defensive. Like I crossed a line by just wanting to know the truth.”

She stares at you for a moment, frowning. “Maybe there’s an explanation… I mean, there are people who lie about their jobs because they’re embarrassed.”

“I don’t know anyone else so comfortable in their own skin, though…”

Your friend nods slowly. “If he’s hiding something you deserve to know what it is. Even if he’s just ashamed of something he thinks is lame. Secrets aren’t sexy.”

“They’re not,” you chuckle barely.

“Ask the fisherman,” she jokes, wanting to make you laugh.

After finishing your drinks and catching up, she heads home, but you stay a little longer. You read two chapters of the book she got you, wanting the minutes to pass quicker. It’s just another silly story, but a safe one - where everyone eventually gets their happy ending.

─── 18:30

After you open the door and see him, your heart begins to thump so fast it feels like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. There’s no sight of the Jooyeon you know.

The person standing in front of you is a stranger from a weird dream. He’s wearing a hoodie you’ve never seen before and his hair is neatly pushed behind his ears, but his face…

His face is beaten up. A deep bruise is spreading across his cheekbone like a sick painting. His lip is split. There’s a cut over his eyebrow, swollen and red.

All you can manage is a whisper of his name.

He slightly winces as though the smallest sound is painful to him right now. “Hi,” he says, then smiles.

The smile is crooked and hesitant, but it still feels familiar. It’s his.

The fog of shock clouding your mind starts to dissipate and you finally remember how to move. You step aside to let him in.

“I’m okay,” he says quietly as he knows what you’re about to ask. His voice is rough like gravel.

“You look like hell,” you shoot back, walking after him.

He laughs, but the sound is heavy and dry. “Damn, you really know how to make a guy feel special.”

He settles on the couch, fingers laced tightly as he rests both elbows on his knees. His eyes lift to meet yours.

For a moment there’s just silence - not the awkward kind, but tauting and uncertain.

“First, it was your hands,” you speak slowly, “now it’s your face. What’s going on?”

You catch the sigh slipping from his lips. He knows the question has come. But that doesn’t make it easier to answer.

You move to sit next to him. “Jooyeon… you can talk to me. Does this happen often?”

He nods once, fixated upon his pale knuckles, scarred with scarlet marks. His eyes look almost too calm as he observes them.

“It happens like two or three times a week,” he says plainly. “Sometimes more, depends.”

“On what?” You press.

Out of nowhere, he stands up, pushing his hair back in frustration. He paces once before facing you again with lowered eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”

You cautiously riise from the couch, standing firm.

“Does this have to do with you lying about the club?” You meet his eyes and he nods, tightening his lips. You step closer. “Then help me understand… talk to me.”

But when you reach out, he flinches, and lifts a hand in front of his stomach - like a shield. The motion makes something in your chest ache. Still, that doesn’t stop you. You lift the hem of his hoodie.

There’s no gasp or anything; just raw affliction darkening your eyes and the colors of his angry bruises. Meanwhile, he simply smirks bitterly.

“You should’ve seen the other guy,” he tugs down the hoodie.

“This is too much,” you murmur.

“This is nothing.” He counters.

“Jooyeon—”

“I owe someone money,” he cuts you off sharply; locking eyes with you at last. “A lot of money. More than I can pay back with a normal job. I fight to make cash, alright?” He lets the confession sit between you before continuing. “That’s why I lied about the club. I didn’t think you’d get it.”

“Can’t you—”

“This is the fastest way, okay?” He snaps. “I made my choice.” He pauses before his voice dips dismissively. “So please, just… don’t ask me anything else about it.”

Your arms wrap around your body without meaning to. “I see…”

He steps forward, but you retreat. You’re not entirely sure why or how.

Jooyeon’s expression darkens. “You’re not scared me of now, are you?”

“No,” you say as your gaze darts up and down. “Of course not.”

Rubbing a hand along his jaw, Jooyeon mutters, sounding even more bitter. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“I’m not scared, Jooyeon. I’m just… worried about you. There has to be another way, something safer. Legal.”

“So you’re judging me?” His tone sharpens. “Look, maybe you don’t take advice from people like me, but you seriously need to stop living in that fantasy world of yours for a second. And see the world like it is.”

You lift your chin higher. Your voice trembles slightly, but doesn’t break. “I don’t think the problem is with me.”

“Of course you don’t,” he scoffs, short and bitter.

“You’re the one avoiding everything. You’re scared to face reality and admit that you don’t have it all together. So you shut people out and hide.”

Jooyeon’s mouth twists. “And in case I do that…” He pauses, shrugging. “What’s the point? You’re not going to accept me anyway, not really.”

“That’s not true,” you say, but your voice is softer, unsure.

“It is,” he says firmly. “You’re already looking at me like I need fixing!” that almost animalistic tone you heard that night slips again.

“I’m looking at you like someone I want to understand!”

He shakes his head, stepping back. “No, you want to fix me, make me fit into your dream life… But I’m not that guy.”

You don’t answer, just stay silent for a moment. Then, you catch his eyes flick to the door.

“I came here to tell you the truth, and I did,” he takes a breath, like the rest he has to say is harder to let out. “I like you, a lot. But we’re good when things are simple. When we don’t overthink every damn word. I just want to enjoy this without all the pressure and labels.”

“So you want to keep sleeping together,” you say carefully, “but not be a part of each other’s lives?”

A moment passes, his tense expression slightly softens as he looks away from you. “Yeah…”

The wall between you is suddenly so high you barely recognise him. Or maybe it was always there, and you, too charmed by him, just refused to see it. Maybe he’s right… maybe you’ve really lost yourself in something that only exists in your imagination.

“I don’t think that’s what I want,” you finally admit.

“Oh.” The word barely lands as he stares at you. “I really thought we were on the same page.”

“We’re not.”

For a few moments, neither of you speaks. The only sound in the room is the sound of your breaths between you. Then, he nods just once.

“Okay,” he says more to himself than to you. The resignation in his voice stings in ways you did not expect. “I guess that’s it then.”

You keep your eyes trained on the floor, forcing your tone to stay neutral as possible. “Take care of yourself.”

He walks toward the door with that unhurried stride, placing one hand on the knob. “You too.”

But just as he starts to turn the handle, you call out his name quietly.

He stills, glancing back at you.

You don’t move closer. You just hold out your hand, the red lighter resting between your fingers. Though it doesn’t belong to you, you hold it tight. “You forgot it again,” you murmur, eyes flicking to his face, but not enough to meet his.

He crosses the space without a word, then plucks the lighter from your hand. His fingers graze yours briefly and something in your chest clenches, causing you to glance up.

He quickly turns back towards the door, as if he suddenly can’t bare to even look at you anymore. He suddenly stops again, just standing there, silent and still. Until his low voice speaks up.

“You know…” he starts slowly. “The first time I left it behind… It wasn’t an accident. I just needed a reason to take you downstairs and fuck you.”

The usual cockiness is missing as he says it. The smug twitch of his mouth too.

It hits harder than you expect. Not because it’s cruel but… because a part of you has always wondered if the disappearance of the lighter was a made up story. Now, you’re relieved, no… you’re glad he said it, but also not really.

You’re certain he’s telling the truth, you don’t doubt it. It’s written all over his face. It’s in the rawness of his voice that does not tremble even once.

Instead, it keeps talking - louder and clearer.

“That’s the kind of guy I am,” he adds, lifting a hand in a mock salute with a hollow grin.

Like he’s mocking himself.

Then, the door clicks shut behind him, and he’s gone.

─── two weeks later

The bell rings softly as you crouch by the lowest shelf, pressing a red 45% OFF sticker on a paperback. You glance up to see your boss’s son stepping inside. He’s a rare sight around here.

“Hey,” he nods at you; expression unreadable as always. “I’m here to grab the donation load,” he says, already heading toward the stockroom without another word.

That’s how Hyeongjun is. He shows up - maybe once a month, - always aloof and brief.

You return to your task, leaving the book and walking to the counter to grab another one, when something or someone catches your eye through the window.

A tall guy you’ve only seen once before strides casually past the store. You recognise him instantly - bleached hair, half pulled into a small, loose bun, sunglasses pushed up on his head. He dropped off Jooyeon one night just before your shift ended.

You carelessly leave the roll of stickers onto the counter, and push through the door, stepping into the late morning sun.

“Hey!” You call loud enough to be heard over the low hum of traffic.

The guy stops mid step, glancing over his shoulder. His brows pinch slightly; not unkind, just confused. Something you’d expect from someone being stopped by a stranger out of nowhere.

You slow down your footsteps as you approach. Your heart kicks up a notch - all of a sudden you feel unsure. What if he doesn’t know about the fights? What if they’re not as close with Jooyeon as it seemed?

Still, you swallow and take the chance.

“Sorry to stop you like this,” you begin. “You were with Jooyeon that night, right? You dropped him off here?”

“Yeah,” he gives a small nod, “that was me.”

“You’re friends?” you ask, tone slightly tilted. “Close friends?”

He studies you for a second before simply answering: “We are.”

“I just… I need to ask you something…”

His expression remains the same but now his posture slightly shifts; he’s more on alert or just curious. “Okay, I’m listening.”

Though he doesn’t offer more, there’s a nice calmness in his tone that manages to ease the rush of nerves prickling at your neck. So, you drop the question.

“Do you know where the fights take place?”

end of part one.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

a.note ! if you see this, then it means you probably read the full story, and for that - thank you! writing this was a long process, a long rollercoaster of emotions, but i’m beyond excited to be finally sharing this with you. thank you for your patience, as well as the support and excitement you showed me while i was working on the project for the past few months - the final result wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for you. you kept me motivated and inspired! hope you enjoyed bookstore joo ♡ now… onto part two.

♡ taglist: @sweet-dreaming-girl @zelinkcrossing @raeisms @seomisaho @kawaiislutt @certifiedmarkleetrash @dear-h @lelestarmy @astro-doll-the-star @clairedamoon @xhfics @antonsluckycharm @rossy1080 @la-grenouille-posts @gaonification

#they hit the fucking pentagon #dinna you’ve done it again this was everything i wanted and more

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