Requests Are Open - Blog Posts

Bare with me here…univerisity setting kang wooyoung x reader having a friends with benefits relationship but surprise reader catches feelings she decides to ignore until one day she learns there are rumors going around campus about wooyoung having multiple girls he sleeps with so she decides to break it off bc maybe they agreed to not sleep around while they have their lil deal going on? And that leaves wooyoung confused bc he doesn’t know what he did wrong until he finds out about the rumors and confronts the reader bc he also caught feelings and he’s like let me put an end to any rumors and since we know he likes to make lil videos this time he keeps the camera rolling while they do their thing but out of respect for the reader and also not wanting people to see what’s his the video doesn’t show much but records the sound of what’s going on for everyone on the campus to shut up with their silly rumors 👀

Ok ngl this was kinda confusing (but that’s ok!!!) so I hope you like this😘

“Rumors & Recordings”

Pairing: Kang Wooyoung x fem!Reader

⸻

You should’ve known this was a bad idea from the beginning.

Friends-with-benefits rarely stayed just that. Not when the lines blurred so easily — in the way Wooyoung would stroke your hair after, or pull you close as if he hated the idea of you leaving his bed. Not when his texts came in at midnight just to say “missed you,” like you were anything more than a body in his sheets.

But you had rules.

And you were foolish enough to believe he’d follow them.

So when whispers started floating around campus — about Wooyoung and a girl from his stats class, then another from his gym club — you told yourself they were just that. Whispers. Cruel rumors. Until your friend accidentally let it slip:

“I thought you and Wooyoung had, like… an open thing? He’s kind of all over the place.”

That was it. The crack that split everything open.

Because no matter what you told yourself — that this wasn’t real, that you weren’t allowed to care — it still hurt. Maybe more than it should have.

You didn’t cry when you ended things. Just gave him a quiet, “We’re done,” before walking out of his dorm.

Wooyoung didn’t chase you. Not at first. Just stared after you, jaw tight, eyes sharp like he was trying to figure out a puzzle he didn’t know he’d been handed.

⸻

Three Days Later

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, cornering you outside the library like it’s nothing. Like you didn’t just shatter whatever fragile thing you had.

“I’m not.” Lie. “We’re not anything anymore. I’m just giving us space.”

Wooyoung frowns. “You ended it out of nowhere.”

“Did I?” Your voice is cold now. Sharper than you want it to be. “Thought maybe you were too busy with your other hookups.”

He goes still. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Woo. People talk. They say you’ve been with half the girls in our year. What, did you forget we said no one else while we were—”

His hand shoots up. Not in anger — in frustration. “I haven’t touched anyone but you.”

You blink. “The rumors—”

“Are bullshit.”

Something in his voice stops you. There’s none of his usual cocky charm, no teasing glint in his eyes. He looks… tired. Hurt, even.

“I wouldn’t break the one rule we had,” he says. “You think I’d risk losing this? You?”

You look away.

“I caught feelings too, Y/N.”

It crashes into you like a wave — the admission, the weight of everything unspoken between you.

But he’s not done.

“Let me fix this,” he murmurs. “Let me make sure they know who I’m with. Who I want.”

⸻

That Night

It’s familiar, the way his hands explore your body like they already know every scar, every freckle. But there’s a different energy now — something raw, something laced with emotion neither of you want to name out loud.

You notice the camera first.

Perched silently on his desk. The red light blinking.

“Wooyoung—”

“It’s not for anyone’s eyes,” he says quickly, seeing the look on your face. “Just the audio.”

You freeze.

“I want them to hear what real sounds like,” he says, voice husky. “Let them talk. Let them wonder. But they won’t have a single doubt who I’m with.”

It’s crazy. Messy. Petty.

But you understand it. The need to take back the narrative. The need to show the world that you’re not some secret. That you matter.

So you let him.

The camera rolls, but only the sound of tangled sheets, whispered names, soft gasps, and the distinct, unmistakable rhythm of passion fill the air.

He kisses your collarbone and whispers against your skin, “Only you. Always you.”

And when the audio clip somehow finds its way into the group chat of a certain gossip-prone student society — cropped, tasteful, and full of unmistakable truth — the rumors stop.

Just like that.

⸻

Days Later

You’re walking across campus when a girl smirks and says, “Guess we were wrong about Wooyoung.”

You don’t answer. Just smile — a private, satisfied curve of your lips — and disappear into the arms of the boy waiting by the quad.

He kisses your forehead in front of everyone.

Let them talk.

This time, the story’s yours.