bagel

Jun was already at your shared lab table when you arrived, feet up on the second chair, flipping through the experiment handbook like it personally offended him. He looked up as you approached, expression unreadable. Then he smiled—wide and kind and borderline smug.

“You’re late,” he said.

“You’re early,” you shot back, dropping your bag with a dramatic thunk. “What are we even doing this semester? I skimmed the syllabus, and it sounded like a dating sim disguised as science.”

Jun’s grin widened. “That’s because it is.”

You blinked.

He patted the seat next to him. “We’re going to fall in love. For research.”

You stared at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

He pulled out a laminated page from the handbook and slid it across the table like he was revealing a clue on a game show.

You read aloud: ‘Students will pair up and conduct a series of controlled experiments designed to measure physiological and psychological markers of romantic arousal and bonding.’

Your voice cracked a little on arousal.

“...This can’t be real.”

Jun leaned his chin on one hand, hair falling just slightly into his eyes. “It’s supervised by Dr. Kang. She’s been studying oxytocin and dopamine pathways for years. I think she’s trying to get a paper out of it.”

“So we’re lab rats.”

He raised his brows. “Hot lab rats.”

You rolled your eyes so hard, you didn’t think it was possible.

Still, you glanced back at the paper. Heart rate tracking, skin conductivity, pupil dilation, mood journaling, regular surveys. One prompt literally said, ‘Have participants hold hands for 60 seconds and record any notable emotional or physiological changes.’

This had to be a joke.

“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” you muttered, dragging your hands down your face.

Jun tapped the edge of the page. “Because it’s fifty percent of our final grade. And because it’ll be fun.”

You gave him a look.

He gave you the Jun look, which basically meant the same as a wink but prettier and more annoying.

“And,” he added, “because apparently, someone’s already live-blogging our class.”

Your head snapped up. “What?”

Jun pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and slid it your way.

On screen: a Twitter account titled @JunYNSocialExperiment.

Pinned tweet: “Day 1 of Jun and Y/N’s slow descent into thesis-induced madness. Sparks may already be flying. 👀 #Psych4Luv”

You blinked again. Harder.

Jun just shrugged. “Welcome to the spotlight, partner.”

You wanted to crawl under the lab table.

Instead, you groaned and flopped onto the chair next to him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Not the most romantic start,” he said, mock-pouting.

You glared at him. “You better not fall in love with me, Jun.”

He grinned, and this time it was all teeth. “Too late.”

—

2. Variables Include but Are Not Limited to, My Crush on You

Live-Blogging Account: [@JunYNSocialExperiment]

Tweet 13: Jun just held Y/N’s hand during the oxytocin baseline. Her hand was shaking. His wasn’t. That man is too calm. Suspiciously calm.

Tweet 14: Someone check if he practiced this in the mirror. #SmoothOperator

Tweet 15: UPDATE: Jun said “your hands are soft” in a tone that should be illegal in educational settings. #HRViolation

—

You don’t know who’s running the live-blog account, but you’re at least 80% sure it’s Minghao. Maybe Seungkwan. Could be both.

“Should we be worried we’ve gone viral on CampusTok?” Jun asks, voice way too relaxed for someone whose heart rate was just logged mid-hand-holding session.

You, on the other hand, are a wreck. You can feel your pulse in your teeth.

“It’s not viral,” you mutter, not looking up from your lab notes.

Jun holds up his phone: 27.4K likes on a clip of you nearly dropping your water bottle when he smiled too hard during Eye Contact Session 1.

You stare at the number. Then you stare at him.

“This is your fault,” you say.

He feigns innocence. “I’m just being a good lab partner. You’re the one getting flustered.”

“You smiled like a romance anime protagonist.”

“I was following protocol. Stimulus Response Theory. Emotional cues. It’s for science.”

Inhale. Exhale. Murder is illegal….

Dr. Kang appears at that exact moment, armed with clipboards and a polite but terrifying smile. “How are my favorite guinea pigs doing?”

You both reply at the same time:

Jun: “Deeply in love.”

You: “Deeply in denial.”

Dr. Kang nods like that’s perfectly normal and flips to the next page in her binder. “Excellent. Today we’re doing proximity tests. Sit close, back-to-back, no talking. We’ll be monitoring tension levels.”

You blink. “Tension levels?”

“Muscle stiffness, heart rate, skin conductivity.” She pauses. “And maybe some vibes.”

Jun snorts. You do not.

Five minutes later, you’re sitting back-to-back with Jun on a mat on the floor, too aware of the warmth radiating from his shoulder blades and the fact that you’re pretty sure he smells like green tea and expensive dreams.

You hear him breathe in, like he’s going to say something, then stops. A beat of silence follows.

“I can feel you overthinking,” he murmurs, voice low enough only you can hear.

You elbow him in the ribs.

He laughs silently.

—

Live-Blogging Account: [@JunYNSocialExperiment]

Tweet 16: They’re back-to-back right now. She keeps adjusting her posture. He hasn’t moved once. I’ve never seen a man so comfortable with romantic tension.

Tweet 17: Someone said he’s the embodiment of a smirk. Accurate.

Tweet 18: If this doesn’t end in a kiss during the Final Trial, I’m demanding a refund from the psychology department.

—

You finally snap when someone in your group chat sends a meme of your blushing face photoshopped onto a squirrel. Caption: "Me when Jun breathes."

You hold up your phone to him, nose wrinkled. “Why are they like this?”

Jun glances at it and grins. “Because we’re adorable.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“I am.” He pauses, then tilts his head. “But also you.”

You freeze.

Jun shrugs like he didn’t just ruin your nervous system. “Just an observation. Scientific.”

You toss a pen at his forehead.

He catches it—of course he catches it—then raises a brow. “Aggression noted. Possible sign of repression?”

You nearly scream.

—

3. This Is Definitely a Crush, But Let’s Pretend It’s Academia

Live-Blogging Account: [@JunYNSocialExperiment]Tweet 19: Jun just adjusted Y/N’s necklace for the "touch sensitivity test." That was not science. That was foreplay.

Tweet 20: We’re 3 sessions away from them inventing eye contact pregnancy.

Tweet 21: The TA had to step outside to breathe.

—

Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)[Hao]: do u think if i bump into jun in the hallway and say “do you believe in fate” he’ll crack and confess

[Boo]: no but he’ll probably quote some philosopher and flip his hair

[Vernon]:  i’m still not over how he called y/n “sunshine” in that deadpan voice like bro who trained you

[Dino]: should we start a betting pool for when they kiss

[Hao]: i already started one. dps due friday

[Boo]: why friday

[Hao]: because dr kang is making them share a blanket for the “comfort dependency module.”

[Hao]: i am not joking.

—

“I think Minghao’s spying on us,” you mutter, scrolling through the live-blog account while sitting next to Jun at a coffee shop.

Jun glances over, sipping his iced americano like nothing phases him. “I think Minghao’s rooting for us.”

You choke on your muffin.

He pats your back in a very not platonic way. “You good?”

“Define ‘good,’” you cough, “because emotionally I’m hanging on by a single neurotransmitter.”

Jun smiles, utterly unhelpful. “Let’s hope it’s dopamine.”

—

In today’s lab, you’re asked to complete a “Shared Intimacy Memory Test,” where you’re supposed to tell a meaningful memory to your partner and rate how emotionally connected you feel afterwards.

You stare at the blank paper in front of you.

“Do I tell the story where I cried in front of my professor?” you ask. “Or the one where I got stuck in a revolving door?”

Jun hums. “How about something you’d only tell someone you trust?”

You side-eye him. “You first, Casanova.”

And then he tells you about his mom’s garden.

About how she used to wake him up at 5 a.m. to water the tomatoes.

About how he hated it—until he moved out and realized he missed the smell of basil more than anything.

You look at him, quiet for a long moment.

“That’s kind of beautiful,” you say, softly.

He shrugs. “Kind of like you.”

You stare.

He doesn’t break eye contact.

The TA coughs behind her clipboard.

—

Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)[Boo]: he just called her beautiful

[Boo]: i have ascended

[Dino]: do you think if i fake a nosebleed they’ll get distracted long enough to kiss

[Hao]: no but worth a try. bring a ketchup packet.

[Vernon]: i’m just here for the free drama. this is better than any kdrama i’ve ever seen.

—

Later that night, Jun walks you home after the lab.

Your shoulder brushes his.

You pretend not to notice. He pretends not to either.

“You ever think we’re just playing chicken with each other?” you ask suddenly, stopping near your door.

Jun blinks. “In what way?”

“I mean—who’s going to crack first. Say it out loud.”

He steps a little closer. “Say what?”

You look up at him, heartbeat louder than logic.

“That this... doesn’t feel like an experiment anymore.”

Jun doesn’t reply right away. Instead, he reaches up like he might touch your face, then stops.

“I’ve known since Day 2,” he admits.

You blink. “Known what?”

“That I like you,” he says simply. “Everything else has just been… peer-reviewed confirmation.”

Your heart crashes somewhere into your lungs.

But before you can reply, he adds, “I’m not asking for an answer. Not yet. But just know I’m not pretending.”

You don’t sleep that night. Your lab notes the next morning are absolute garbage.

—

4. The Blanket Test and Other Forms of Emotional Torture

Live-Blogging Account: [@JunYNSocialExperiment]

Tweet 21: If you thought they couldn’t get more domestic—today’s module is: Shared Thermal Regulation.Tweet 22: Translation: THEY’RE SHARING A BLANKET FOR SCIENCE.

Tweet 23: Jun said “you can have more if you’re cold” and tucked the blanket over Y/N’s knees. I am now legally married to this ship.

—

Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)[Boo]: shared. thermal. regulation.

[Boo]: dr kang is a menace and also my hero

[Dino]: they’re gonna die of tension before hypothermia even kicks in

[Vernon]: y/n just told jun “you run warm” and i had to physically leave the room

[Hao]: if they don’t kiss today i’m deleting my degree

[Hao]: this is not psychology this is foreplay 101

—

Jun adjusts the blanket so it drapes evenly across your legs. You're sitting side by side on the floor of the lab’s observation room, backs against the couch, trying very hard not to make eye contact.

“So,” you say lightly, “how do you think this affects the dopamine system?”

Jun leans over. “You want the scientific answer or the ‘I like the way your voice sounds when you’re flustered’ answer?”

Your whole nervous system malfunctions.

“That’s not—” you choke, “That’s not a real research angle!”

He raises an eyebrow. “Says who? Should we test it?”

You open your mouth to argue, but then he shifts closer, shoulder to shoulder now, and all your cognitive functions dissolve.

You pretend to look at your notes.

He pretends to look at his.

Neither of you are fooling anyone.

—

Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)[Boo]: jun said “you smell like vanilla and chaos” and i SCREECHED

[Hao]: i am going to physically force their faces together i swear

[Dino]: update: i told the TA i had to “check the fire alarm” so i could eavesdrop

[Vernon]: i heard jun say “i dreamt about you last night”

[Vernon]: i have not recovered

[Boo]: WAS IT SEXY

[Vernon]: no it was weirdly soft

[Vernon]: he said “you were laughing and I wanted to keep the sound”

[Hao]: i need a sedative

—

“You’re staring again,” you murmur without looking at him.

“I study human behavior,” Jun says smugly. “This is observational data collection.”

You snort, eyes still on the psych textbook in your lap. “Uh-huh. What’s your conclusion?”

He shifts a little closer. “That I’m probably completely in love with you.”

Silence.

Your fingers twitch under the blanket.

He doesn’t take it back.

You look up at him—finally—and the look in his eyes makes the air feel heavier.

You say, quietly: “I don’t know what to do with that.”

Jun smiles, a little crooked. “You don’t have to do anything. Just… don’t run.”

“I’m not running,” you whisper.

He nudges your knee with his. “Good.”

—

Later, back in your dorm, you open your phone and find 18 missed messages from Hao.

[Minghao]: :DID YOU KISS??

[Minghao]: DID YOU TOUCH HANDS??

[Minghao]: DID HE WHISPER YOUR NAME LIKE A SAD VICTORIAN POET

WE’RE DYING HERE

[Minghao]: answer or i’m going to publish the live-blog as a case study

You roll your eyes and finally respond

[You]: no kiss

[You]: just confessions

[You]: maybe next time

[Minghao]: CONFESSIONS??

[Minghao]: LIKE LOVE ONES??

[Minghao]: be so serious rn. i’m calling dr kang and declaring this a success

[You]: don’t

[Minghao]: too late. already printed matching lab coats that say “subject a’s boyfriend”

—

5. Hallway Kisses and One (1) Witness Too Many

Live-Blogging Account: [@JunYNSocialExperiment]

Tweet 24: Okay. Okay. Okay. I’m shaking.

Tweet 25: THEY THINK THEY’RE SNEAKY. THEY’RE NOT.

Tweet 26: Seungkwan caught them kissing outside the lab and texted us “GUYS I JUST WITNESSED EMOTIONAL NUDITY”

Tweet 27: Anyway, we won.

—

It happens between modules.

You and Jun are standing in the hallway outside Dr. Kang’s office, both slightly breathless after a long presentation on “emotional synchrony and physiological arousal,” which is ironic considering you haven’t been able to calm down around Jun for weeks.

There’s no one in the hallway. The lab door clicks shut behind you.

You lean against the wall, arms crossed loosely. Jun’s in front of you, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking from your face to your mouth and back again.

“You did well in there,” he says softly.

“You too. Especially that part where you explained heart rate increase as ‘mutual attunement’ and looked directly at me for the entire paragraph.”

Jun tilts his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You noticed?”

You roll your eyes. “I notice everything.”

There’s a beat.

Then he takes a half-step closer. “Do you notice how close I am right now?”

Your breath hitches. “Jun—”

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, say something.”

Silence.

You look up at him, and whatever’s in your expression makes him breathe in sharply. He leans in—

And kisses you.

It’s gentle at first—tentative, warm. But then you’re pulling him in by the collar and he’s tilting your chin up with one hand, the other braced against the wall beside your head. The kiss deepens, and the world narrows to the space between your mouths.

Then—

“Oh my GOD.”

You both freeze.

Seungkwan is standing ten feet away with his lunch tray, mouth agape.

There’s a long, long pause.

“…Please pretend you didn’t see that?” you say weakly.

Seungkwan drops the tray on the floor with a clatter and bolts down the hall at full speed, yelling, “I NEED MY PHONE. I NEED THE GROUP CHAT. I’M TELLING EVERYONE.”

—

Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)[Boo]: EMERGENCY BROADCAST

[Boo]: RED ALERT

[Boo]: THEY WERE MAKING OUT OUTSIDE THE LAB

[Boo]: I REPEAT

[Boo]: LIP-LOCK LEVEL: ADVANCED

[Hao]: OH MY GODDDDD

[Hao]: I KNEW IT

[Hao]: LOVE IS REAL

[Boo]: jun had his hand on the WALL

[Boo]: WALL ARM

[Boo]: THE KDRAMA WALL ARM

[Dino]: i am crying. this is the most important academic day of my life

[Vernon]: are we still live-blogging or is this now a fan shrine

—

Later that night, Jun sends you a text.

[Jun]: did we break seungkwan

he walked into the kitchen and handed me a banana without saying a word

[You]: i think he’s grieving

either our friendship or the fact he wasn’t the first to know

possibly both

—

Dr. Kang enters the next lab session with a small smile and a stack of feedback forms.

“Before we begin, I’d like to commend Subject A and Subject B for their… commitment to the experiment.”

You and Jun exchange panicked glances.

Dr. Kang continues. “Some of your classmates have submitted observational reports. Very thorough. Some might say emotionally invasive, but—” she shrugs, “—that’s academia.”

You are going to kill Seungkwan.

—

Live-Blogging Account: [@JunYNSocialExperiment]Tweet 28: they’re holding hands in the presentation now

Tweet 29: jun just whispered something and y/n smiled like a foolTweet 30: we’re calling it

Tweet 31: experiment conclusion: it was never about science

Tweet 32: it was always about love

—

6. Confessions & Crashes (Live from Psych 301)

The final presentations were scheduled to start at 1:00 PM sharp, but the lecture hall was already packed by 12:40. Not because anyone particularly loved behavioral psych, but because the entire Seventeen Group Chat had gone rogue.

—

Specifically:

Subject: Jun and Y/N’s final presentationSubtext: Will they combust? Will they kiss again? Will Seungkwan faint in public?

[Group Chat: SEVENTEEN Studies (🧠🔥)]

[Boo]: IM OUTSIDE THE LECTURE HALL

[Boo]: I REPEAT THE KISSERS ARE ON CAMPUS

[DK]: omg

[DK]: omg

[Joshua]: don’t cause a scene

[Boo]: TOO LATE I’VE ALREADY SWEATED THROUGH MY SHIRT

[Mingyu]: i brought popcorn

[Vernon]: i brought existential dread

[Woozi]: i brought a taser

[Soonyoung]: I BROUGHT POSTERS

[Jeonghan]: what

[Soonyoung]: [attached: “KISS ME IT’S FOR SCIENCE” banner]

[Jeonghan]: I regret asking

—

You and Jun sit near the front. There’s a half-meter of space between your seats, but the tension could punch a hole through concrete. You’re both quiet. Too quiet.

It’s been three days since the kiss.

Three days since Seungkwan caught you in the hallway and shrieked so loud the janitor dropped his mop. Three days since your group chat transformed into a fanfiction-writing frenzy, culminating in Minghao sending a 20-slide PowerPoint titled “The 19 Stages of Academic Yearning (ft. Jun and Y/N).”

And three days since you’ve said anything real to Jun.

Because how do you follow a kiss like that?

A kiss that wasn’t part of the experiment. A kiss that wasn’t data or methodology or "mutual gaze-induced arousal via stimulus proximity." A kiss that felt—

Real.

—

Your names are called. You step up.

You’re shaking. But Jun smiles at you, soft and grounding. Like he’s saying, We got this. I got you.

You start with the basics—hypothesis, procedure, variables.

Jun picks up the analysis, voice steady. “We measured cortisol levels, pupil dilation, and heartbeat synchronization during various physical and emotional interactions. Our aim was to determine whether affection, simulated or genuine, could create measurable physiological bonding.”

He pauses.

You glance at him. His jaw tightens.

Then he turns to face the audience. “But somewhere along the way,” Jun says quietly, “it stopped being simulated.”

Your stomach drops.

The room is silent.

“Somewhere between testing proximity and shared secrets… I stopped seeing this as research. And started feeling something real.”

You blink.

Oh no.

He’s doing this. Here. Now. In front of fifty students and one very emotionally fragile Seungkwan.

You step forward, whispering, “Jun—”

But he looks right at you.

“This wasn’t in the protocol,” he says, voice suddenly trembling. “You weren’t supposed to matter this much. But you do. You do.”

—

The lecture hall explodes.

[Group Chat: SEVENTEEN Studies (🧠🔥)]

[Boo]: HES CONFESSING

[Boo]: HE’S CONFESSING IN PUBLIC

[DK]: OH MY GODDDD

[Joshua]: I’M CRYING

[Woozi]: shut up i can’t hear

[Minghao]: [screenshot of Jun’s face mid-confession, zoomed in 300%]

[Soonyoung]: CAN I THROW FLOWERS

[Jeonghan]: NO

[Soonyoung]: TOO LATE

[Jeonghan]: ARE YOU ACTUALLY THROWING FLOWERS

[Soonyoung]: [attached: photo of daisies in mid-air]

[Mingyu]: THE TA IS CRYING

[Vernon]: i’m also crying but i think it’s unrelated

[Boo]: HE’S HOLDING HER HAND

[Boo]: I’M GOING TO ASCEND

—

You’re stunned. Frozen.

Jun steps closer, voice softer now. “Y/N, you don’t have to say anything. But I had to tell you. Because this was supposed to be a study in emotional bonding, and somewhere along the line, I fell in love.”

You stare.

And then you laugh—wet, shocked.

“Jun,” you whisper, “I was in love with you four weeks ago. When you spilled tea on my laptop and offered to buy me a new one.”

He blinks. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” you say, grinning. “But the hallway kiss helped.”

The entire room loses it.

—

You’re still holding hands when your professor says, “A+, obviously. But please consider my blood pressure next time.”

Jun bows politely. You wave, dazed. The class claps like you just ended a K-drama. Someone’s live-streaming. A flower lands on your head.

—

[Group Chat: SEVENTEEN Studies (🧠🔥)]

[Joshua]: does this mean they’re dating

[DK]: DO WE THROW A PARTY

[Woozi]: i’m making a playlist

[Jeonghan]: i’m making a drinking game

[Soonyoung]: IM MAKING A TIKTOK

[Minghao]: i’m making a legally binding marriage certificate

[Boo]: [attached: selfie, red-eyed, cheeks blotchy, surrounded by tissue]

[Boo]: love is real

[Boo]: i need electrolytes

—

7. Commence Emotional Graduation (w/ Seungkwan’s Fanclub)

Graduation day arrives like a fever dream. Caps flying. Gowns flapping. Sunglasses hiding tears. A dangerously unstable crowd of proud parents, confused siblings, and one emotionally possessed group chat ready to combust.

You’re standing in line to cross the stage, half-listening to the Dean’s speech and trying not to cry into your honor cords. Beside you, Jun is adjusting his gown and whispering nonsense like:

“Did you eat?”

“Is your cap on straight?”

“Do I have something in my teeth?”

“Should we kiss after we get our diplomas?”

“Too much?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, heart soft. “All of it. But I love you anyway.”

He beams so wide you almost cry again.

—

Meanwhile...

[Group Chat: SEVENTEEN Studies (🧠🔥)]

[Boo]: LISTEN UP

[Boo]: THE TIME HAS COME

[Joshua]: oh no

[Woozi]: what have you done

[DK]: i’m scared

[Boo]: I AM OFFICIALLY LAUNCHING

[Boo]: THE JUN × Y/N FANCLUB

[Minghao]: of course

[Jeonghan]: we knew this was coming

[Soonyoung]: DO WE GET SHIRTS

[Boo]: ALREADY MADE

[Boo]: [attached: “I Believed in the Science” t-shirt]

[Mingyu]: bro

[Vernon]: incredible

[Boo]: there’s a tier system

[Boo]: GOLD = saw them kiss live

[Boo]: SILVER = cried during the final presentation

[Boo]: PLATINUM = emotionally unwell since week 4

[Joshua]: so we’re all platinum

[Woozi]: against my will

—

You cross the stage.

Your name is called. The applause is normal—until SEUNGKWAN SCREAMS from the back row, holding a hand-painted fanclub banner. (Soonyoung is next to him tossing mini confetti cannons.)

You’re pretty sure the Chancellor flinches.

Then Jun crosses.

The crowd, already unstable, reaches concert-level intensity. Someone blows a kazoo. Vernon is live-streaming. Mingyu is crying. The professor who gave you an A+ on your final project wipes a single tear and nods like she’s raised you both herself.

—

After the ceremony, the chaos continues.

You’re bombarded with hugs, selfies, and “tell us everything” questions from your group chat. Seungkwan makes you pose in front of a giant “Science of Love” poster he made himself. Soonyoung forces Jun into a glitter-filled TikTok. Woozi plays an acoustic guitar version of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” while Joshua harmonizes.

Jeonghan casually hands you a champagne bottle and whispers, “You survived academia and fell in love. You deserve this.”

—

Later, you and Jun sneak away. Sit quietly on the edge of campus, overlooking the courtyard full of chaos you’ve come to love.

He nudges your shoulder. “So... post-grad. What now?”

You smile. “We keep experimenting. With this. Us.”

He leans in. “For science?”

You laugh into his kiss. “For love.”

—

[Group Chat: SEVENTEEN Studies (🧠🔥)]

[Boo]: THEY’RE KISSING AGAIN

[DK]: I’M CRYING AGAIN

[Woozi]: we should’ve majored in drama

[Minghao]: we basically did

[Soonyoung]: LET’S THROW A REUNION EVERY YEAR

[Joshua]: …we’re still on campus?

[Jeonghan]: shut up and let the moment happen

[Vernon]: i’m writing a poem

[Mingyu]: i’m hungry

[Boo]: i’m full

[Boo]: FULL OF EMOTION

He looked at you a little differently after that, a spark lighting in his eyes as he leaned in just a bit and said, “I can make you get there, if you let me.”

Stupid man with stupid words. And you were just as stupid, because you really said yes.

Which brings you to the present—legs spread wide, back arching, and Haechan’s mouth glued to your cunt, his tongue working your soaked hole with shameless dedication.

How long had you been like this? You weren’t sure anymore.

Your legs were starting to ache from the position, trembling from the strain and the overstimulation. You’d long lost count of how many times he’d made you cum, even though he’d told you to keep track.

Your fingers were buried in his messy hair, tugging hard, not sure if you wanted to pull him closer or push him away. But he wasn’t giving you a choice, his tongue was relentless, thrusting into you with obscene precision, his mouth noisy, wet, ravenous.

His arms were hooked beneath your thighs, hands gripping them tightly as he anchored you in place, pulling you down even harder against his mouth.

He was devouring you, absolutely shameless, his nose brushing against your sensitive little bundle of nerves with every eager thrust of his tongue.

The room was filled with the slick, lewd sounds of wet sucking, your broken moans spilling freely, mixing with the soft, desperate hums coming from his throat, he was enjoying this. And you could feel it.

Not just in the way he moaned into you, but in the subtle grind of his hips against the mattress beneath him, chasing relief he was clearly denying himself in favor of feasting on you.

That familiar pressure began to build in your core once again, your body wound so tight it barely took anything now. And before you could even brace for it, you were cumming. Again.

Haechan groaned into you, loud and guttural, as his tongue welcomed your release like he’d been starving for it. He drank every last drop, licking you clean with long, purposeful strokes, your soft mewls only making his smile grow against your soaked, trembling cunt.

Honestly, you could’ve come again just from the sight of it.

He slowly hovered over you, capturing your lips in a messy, fevered kiss, his tongue coated with the taste of you, of both of you. It made your head spin.

You were so dazed, so far gone, that you didn’t even register the sound of his pants being pushed down, or the way he settled smoothly between your legs, hands caressing your thighs like they were something sacred.

Not until you felt him.

His cock, heavy and flushed, dragging through your folds, the tip brushing against your clit with maddening precision.

You gasped, overwhelmed, your hands flying to his arms as if to keep yourself ground, or stop him.

“Hyuck,” you whimpered, breathless and spent. “Gimme a break… please.”

He dragged his tongue slowly along your neck, warm and wet, just as his cock slid up and down your slick folds teasingly. The tip circled your entrance, barely pushing in, just enough to make your walls flutter around nothing.

“A break?” he murmured against your skin, lips curving into a smirk as he nibbled at your pulse. “After everything I gave you?” He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his cock still resting right at your entrance, heat pulsing between you. “You’re so selfish, you know that?”

His hips rolled forward just enough for the head of his cock to catch on your entrance again, making you twitch. He didn’t push in, of course he didn’t. He just stayed there, smirking.

“All those pretty sounds you made,” he whispered, trailing his hand up your thigh, spreading you wider. “All those orgasms I handed to you…”

He nipped at your jaw, gentle but firm.

“And now you want to rest?” He chuckled, the sound vibrating through your skin. “After laying there, whining, taking everything like a needy little pillow princess?”

His fingers found your clit again, drawing slow, torturous circles, just light enough to make your whole body jolt, overstimulated and aching.

“You should say thank you, pretty,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours. “And let me take care of you, hm?”

You whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as your hips gave a weak jerk toward his fingers, your body betraying any protest your lips might’ve formed. You were exhausted, wrecked, even, but the way he touched you, spoke to you, looked at you… there was no way you could say no.

Your fingers curled tightly around his biceps, bracing yourself. “T… Thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible, thick with embarrassment.

He chuckled, a low, condescending sound that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. “I didn’t know you were obedient like that,” he teased, voice dripping with mockery.

And before you could even fire back, before you could think, he drove into you with a sharp, hard thrust. Your breath caught in your throat, a startled gasp slipping out as your body clenched around him instantly, your walls molding to every inch, the sudden stretch stealing whatever witty comeback you had.

His moan was downright pornographic and it had you clenching around him nonstop. The way he throbbed inside you, thick and heavy, made it obvious he was in heaven, or at least somewhere damn close.

He started to move, slow at first, rolling his hips in a steady rhythm that let you feel every single inch of him. And fuck, he was savoring it. Savoring the way your slick, gummy walls pulled him in greedily, clenching and fluttering like your body didn’t want to let him go.

But his slow, gentle thrusts didn’t last long, his hands clamped down on your hips, fingers digging in with an almost bruising grip as he picked up the pace. His thrusts turned rough, relentless, his hips slamming into yours with enough force to rock your body up the bed with each movement, as he pounded your already sensitive, abused pussy.

Slick, wet slaps echoed through the room, the sound of your cunt squelching obscene as he drove in deeper, harder, hitting that perfect spot again and again like he knew it by heart.

“Fuck,” he moaned, voice ragged, breath catching as you clenched down on him tight. “Gimme one—fuck, baby, gimme one more.”

It wasn’t like he even needed to ask. At this point, you had no control over your body, especially not with the way he was pounding into you while his fingers pinched your clit, only to soothe it with a teasing, gentle rub right after.

Your entire body responded to him like a live wire, tension building faster than you could process. Then, without warning, a gush of wetness burst from you, soaking his lower abdomen and the sheets below as your body trembled violently, nerves on fire from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck—look at that,” he moaned, eyes wide in surprise, a slightly disbelieving smile curling on his lips. “So messy for me. So fucking good.”

You spasmed beneath him, body jerking as every muscle finally gave out, going limp all at once. He was so turned on by how completely he’d unraveled you, it took him a few seconds to even register it, until he stilled inside you, balls deep, as he spilled hot ropes of cum into your waiting cunt.

“Shit,” he hissed, breath ragged, brushing damp hair from your face and noticing how your eyes fluttered, your body still twitching softly. “You passed out?” he asked with a soft laugh as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Yeah… I’ll take that as a thank you.”

↝ taglist: @nebularsung, @spacejip, @peterm4rker, @sinisxtea.

your college days have been, for the most part, unremarkable in the best way. you pulled decent grades, had a solid group of friends, and were generally well-liked.

but despite being somewhat popular, you managed to keep a lot about yourself private.

and by that, you mean the secret life that only a handful of your closest friends knew about.

after all, being a cam girl wasn’t exactly your average college hobby.

it started on a whim, born from equal parts boredom and curiosity. at first, you had no idea what you were doing. your streams were awkward, your lighting was bad, and your concept was nonexistent. but after a few months, you found your niche and suddenly, you were kind of a big deal on the platform.

granted, the website you streamed on was pretty obscure, the kind of place you could name in public, and nobody would so much as glance your way. still, you made decent money. enough to pay for your first two years of college, entirely out of pocket.

you never flaunted it, and most of your friends didn’t care to pry. they only ever joked about it, like they were doing now after you casually mentioned how much you’d earned last month.

“girl, what the hell. maybe i should start camming too,” giselle said, eyes wide as she stared at the number on your screen.

“you say that like it’s a joke, but i’m dead serious,” karina chimed in, striking a dramatic pose in front of the mirror. “i checked my bank account yesterday and almost cried.”

“i mean, i’m not saying you should, but if you need pointers…” you teased, shooting them a wink

“for real though, you’ve gotten so much confidence from this,” giselle pointed out, leaning back against the bed frame.

“oh yeah, nothing boosts your self-esteem like a 60 year old man telling you your ‘princess bits’ are so pretty he busted one in his pants,” you deadpanned, propping your chin on your hand.

“okay, they can’t all be old men,” karina snorted “like can you see their profiles or anything?” she asked, abandoning the mirror and flopping onto the bed beside you.

“not really. just their usernames and how much they’ve spent on my channel.”

“wait, check your top supporter!” giselle said, bouncing a little in excitement.

you scrolled through the dashboard until his username popped up. the moment your friends saw how much he’d spent on you this year, they both let out a loud gasp.

“what in the sugar daddy is this?” karina said, laughing in disbelief. “eighteen thousand dollars? that’s literally my entire tuition!”

“i don’t get the full amount, though. the site takes a cut, then there’s taxes and all that,” you clarified, shrugging.

“still! that’s insane,” giselle said, shaking her head. “honestly, i don’t feel bad about you paying for our sushi nights anymore.”

you laughed, leaning back into your pillows.

“but aren’t you even a little curious about who this…” karina squinted at the screen, “andyp4rk02 is? i need to know everything about this man.”

“i mean, of course i’m curious. but there’s no way to find out,” you said, twirling a strand of hair absentmindedly.

“unless…” giselle said, dragging the word out with a sly grin.

you raised a brow. “unless what?”

“haechan.”

you frowned. “what about him?”

“he could probably hack into this thing,” she said with a casual wave of her hand, as if that wasn’t a completely ridiculous suggestion.

“giselle, he’s a computer science major, not a dark web hacker,” karina said, rolling her eyes.

“okay, but remember when i got locked out of my netflix? he did some tech magic on his computer and got my account back.”

“yeah, because recovering a netflix account is exactly the same as hacking into a cam site,” you said dryly.

“i’m just saying, have you seen his setup? it’s literally something out of a spy movie,” giselle insisted.

karina shrugged. “it wouldn’t hurt to ask him…”

you hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t know, guys…”

“oh, come on,” karina said, nudging your shoulder. “don’t you want to know who this guy is?”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

they somehow managed to convince you, which was how you found yourself shivering outside haechan’s dorm, rubbing your arms to keep warm. the air was biting, and as always, haechan wasn’t picking up his phone.

“when he opens this door, i’m kicking him straight in the balls,” you muttered, bouncing on your toes to stave off the cold. giselle was furiously rubbing her hands up and down your arms and karina’s, trying to share what little warmth she had.

“we should’ve called earlier,” karina said through chattering teeth, her lower lip trembling. “he might not even be in.”

giselle huffed dramatically. “okay, this is ridiculous.” she stepped back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “lee haechan, come out right now!” her voice echoed down the street, startling a group of students walking by.

“haechan! get your ass down here!” you joined in, your voice cracking slightly in the cold.

karina gave a small, pitiful laugh. “he lives on the second floor… there’s no way he heard that.”

before she could finish, the door creaked open, revealing one of his roommates. you recognized him immediately but, as usual, couldn’t recall his name. he was younger than you by a year and usually kept to himself whenever you visited.

“uh… hey?” he said, blinking at the sight of the three of you standing there like frostbitten strays. he leaned awkwardly against the doorframe, clearly wondering why three girls were yelling outside their dorm at 9 p.m. on a tuesday.

giselle, ever the charmer, broke into a dazzling smile. “hi! thank you! we’re here for haechan.”

“okay,” he said quietly, still eyeing you all with suspicion. “he’s probably in his room playing league or something.” he stepped aside slowly, letting you in.

“thank you,” you muttered as you walked past, catching the way his gaze immediately dropped to the floor when you made eye contact.

once inside, you didn’t waste any time. storming up to haechan’s door, you knocked violently before pushing it open without waiting for an answer.

“what the hell—” haechan swiveled in his gaming chair, his startled expression melting into a sly grin as soon as he saw you. “hii, girls. to what do i owe the pleasure?” his tone shifted into his mock customer service voice as he leaned back, giving you his most charming smile.

giselle jabbed a finger into his shoulder, making him wince. “were you jerking off, or is your phone shoved up your ass? why didn’t you answer our calls?”

“sorry, i was mid-round, and my phone was on silent,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and smiling sheepishly.

karina folded her arms and sat on the edge of his bed, only to spring back up with a grimace. “ugh, have you even left your room this week?” she asked, glaring at the mountain of empty takeout containers and water bottles scattered across the floor.

“it’s winter break,” haechan said, turning back to his computer and clicking out of the game. “of course i haven’t.”

giselle gestured dramatically at the mess. “you’re one step away from being in a hoarders episode, dude.”

haechan ignored her, spinning in his chair to face you again. “so, what brings such beautiful company to my humble abode?” his eyes lingered on you pointedly.

“he only looked at y/n while saying that. wow.” giselle placed a hand on her chest in mock offense.

“she’s not gonna suck your dick, haechan,” karina said flatly, shaking her head.

“i didn’t even say anything!” he protested, deflating slightly in his chair, his pout almost comical.

“anyway,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “i need a favor.”

haechan perked up immediately. “anything for you,” he said with a wink, which earned an exaggerated gagging noise from karina.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “okay, first: how’s your hacking game these days?”

“eh… like a seven. why?”

“do you think you could, uh, hack into angel corner?”

his eyebrows shot up. “oh, oh.” he swiveled back to his computer, clearly intrigued. “i mean, i’m not super familiar with their system—it depends on their encryption layers and backend coding. but…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. “it shouldn’t be too hard. why do you want me to hack them, though?”

you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, trying to look as innocent as possible. “just… curious about one of my subscribers.”

giselle chimed in unhelpfully. “her top subscriber.”

haechan spun his chair back around, narrowing his eyes. “and what exactly do you want to know?”

you hesitated, glancing at karina and giselle. the truth was, you hadn’t really thought this through.

“everything,” karina said firmly, her eyes glinting with a kind of mischievous excitement.

haechan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “okay, but what’s in it for me?”

giselle thought for a second and then grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “y/n will sit on your lap while you do your nerdy shit.”

haechan shot out of his chair, clapping his hands. “deal!”

“huh?! i did not agree to this.” you immediately protested.

“c’mooon,” giselle said with a pout. “don’t you want to know?”

haechan patted his lap smugly. “don’t worry, baby. i don’t bite.”

groaning, you finally gave in, muttering curses under your breath as you sat on his lap. he sighed contentedly, spinning back toward his computer. with a few quick clicks, he opened a screen that looked straight out of a movie just as giselle said before. lines of code and strange tabs you didn’t recognize.

“how do you even know how to do this?” you asked, leaning slightly to the side to avoid touching his chest.

“self-taught,” he replied with a shrug.

“great,” you muttered. “i’m trusting a bootleg hacker to invade my subscriber’s privacy. that’s just fantastic.”

“hey, relax,” haechan said, grinning. “you’re in good hands.”

“can we get this over with so i can get off you?” you groaned, shifting uncomfortably on haechan’s lap.

“why? i’m cozy,” he said with a cheeky grin, snuggling into your back. you retaliated with a flick to his forehead.

“ow!” he yelped, immediately rubbing the spot. “i’m so nice to you and all you do is hurt me.”

“you’ll cope. now, what’s this?” you asked, pointing at the maze of numbers and codes flickering across the screen.

“this,” he said, his brows knitting in concentration, “is me trying to break through their firewall… which is a lot more complicated than i thought.”

“well, obviously,” karina chimed in from behind you, inspecting her nails, only half invested in the conversation. “that site probably has CEOs and politicians on it. maybe one of them is your top subscriber, because who else has eighteen thousand dollars to blow on a cam girl?”

“what?!” haechan yelled, whipping around so fast you nearly fell off his lap. “eighteen thousand?!”

“that was my ear,” you muttered, steadying yourself.

he cleared his throat dramatically, but his ears flushed pink. “right, sorry. anyway—oh, wait, i’m in!”

“wait, really?!” you leaned forward in excitement, your hands clutching the edge of his desk. “oh my god, that’s so cool, i could kiss you right now!”

“please do,” haechan replied, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“be a man,” karina said, smacking him on the back of his head as she moved closer.

“okay, so… bad news or good news first?” haechan asked, his smug grin returning as he reclined slightly in his chair.

“just rip the band-aid off,” you said, crossing your arms. “what’s the bad news?”

“your top spender is smart. like, annoyingly smart. the only personal info he filled out was his gender, and for his name he used a zelda character.”

“what a virgin,” he added with a laugh.

“look who’s talking,” giselle shot back.

“hey, i’m not the one spending thousands on a cam girl who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” haechan retorted, his tone defensive. “and for the record, i do get some action, thank you very much.”

“sure you do,” karina muttered, rolling her eyes. “anyway, what’s the good news?”

haechan grinned like a cat who’d caught a particularly juicy mouse. “i can get his IP address.”

“wait, for real? what are you waiting for?” giselle leaned in, her eyes darting to the screen.

“hold on.” you hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of your excitement. “isn’t this… a bit much? like, it feels illegal.”

giselle waved a hand dismissively. “please. we’ve come this far… we can’t leave with just this. we already knew he was a guy. only a man would be that desperate.”

“and besides,” karina added, “you’ve been sitting on this nerd’s lap for twenty minutes. make it worth something.”

“touché,” giselle said, nodding. “by the way, you can get up now.”

“yeah, but…” you paused, shifting slightly. “he was right—his lap is cozy.”

“told ya,” haechan said smugly, shooting you a wink. “so, should i pull up his IP or what?”

you sighed covering your face with your hands, hoping it would make the shame and ethical gray area feel a little less overwhelming “ugh. fine. just do it.”

haechan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of taps and clicks as lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen. within three minutes, he sat back triumphantly.

“got it,” he said. but then his smile faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion. “wait… that can’t be right.”

“what?” you dropped your hands and leaned forward. “what’s wrong?”

karina’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen. “isn’t that…?”

giselle’s voice was barely above a whisper. “isn’t that this dorm?”

you all stared at the address blinking on the screen. it was the exact building you were sitting in.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“you’ve all been staring at me for the past three minutes, and i’m feeling very threatened right now,” haechan said, his voice trembling.

the three of you stood in front of him, arms crossed and glares locked onto his soul.

“well, we just think it’s way too much of a freaky coincidence that her top spender just so happens to live here,” giselle said, her tone accusatory. “care to explain?”

“wait, wait, wait,” haechan stammered, his hands flying up in surrender. “you’re not seriously implying i’m the top spender, right? cause that’s just—” he laughed nervously, “—ridiculous!”

“oh, is it?” karina quipped, raising a perfectly arched brow. “you’re always flirting with y/n and acting like a simp. what’s a few thousand dollars for your ‘queen’?”

“oh, come on!” haechan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “i’m naturally a flirty guy. that’s my thing! and where do you guys think i’d even get that kind of money?”

he gestured around the room to back up his claim. the pile of ramen cups and the stack of free campus hoodies spoke louder than he ever could.

“besides,” he added, dropping his arms, “i’m not even subscribed to her channel. i admit i checked it out a few times after y/n told me about it, but i promise i’m not a weirdo or anything. you’re my best friend, y/n.”

his voice softened at the end, and you felt yourself relaxing slightly. haechan might be a flirt, a tease, and a relentless pain in the ass, but he wasn’t the kind of person to keep something like this hidden from you.

“he’s telling the truth, you guys,” you said finally, breaking the tension.

karina tilted her head, sizing him up. “yeah, i didn’t think a bum like him would drop that much money on you anyway.” she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “he asked me for five dollars the other day… by the way, give me back my money.”

“dude, it was five bucks! let it go,”

“let it go?” karina shot back. “i could’ve gotten a latte with that!”

“okay, okay,” giselle cut in, waving her hands to calm them down. “if it’s not haechan, who else could it be? is there anyone in this dorm who’s… obsessed with you?”

you blinked, thinking hard. “not that i know of. i mean, i don’t really talk to anyone here except for haechan.”

“how many guys live here?” giselle asked, turning to haechan.

“including me? 5,” he said, counting on his fingers. “but i’m pretty sure jeno has a girlfriend... so that leaves mark, jaemin, and jisung.”

“since when has having a girlfriend ever stopped a man from doing something shady?” karina deadpanned, crossing her arms.

“true,” haechan admitted with a shrug, “but let’s be real, girls… all of them are full-time students barely scraping by with part-time jobs. i doubt any of them have that kind of cash to drop freely.”

“you never know,” giselle chimed in. “isn’t mark’s brother the dealer on campus? maybe he borrowed some money.”

karina snorted. “you’re forgetting mark is practically a saint. the guy’s too religious and too much of a goody two-shoes to even think about something like that.”

“okay, what about jaemin?” giselle countered. “he’s always wearing designer stuff. what if he’s secretly loaded?”

karina gave her an incredulous look. “have you seen jaemin? he’s got a different girl drooling over his shoulder every other day. i don’t think he needs to subscribe to a cam girl to satisfy himself and i’m sure all those were gifts from desperate girls”

“then that leaves jisung,” you said slowly, the name clicking into place. “wait… isn’t he the one who let us in earlier? the freshman?”

karina nodded. “oh right, the tall awkward kid. that would explain why he couldn’t even look at you.”

“wait, jisung?” haechan burst out laughing. “no way. the kid’s barely in his twenties! you’re telling me he somehow scraped together eighteen thousand dollars to spend on y/n?”

“well, he does live in this building so that makes him a suspect…” giselle reasoned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“ugh, this is getting too weird,” you muttered, pacing the small room. “are we really saying jisung might be the guy?”

“i mean, you never know,” karina said with a smirk. “quiet ones are always full of surprises.”

haechan groaned, flopping back into his chair. “this is turning into a bad episode of CSI”

“if he’s the top spender, that means he has a thing for y/n,” giselle said, grinning. “we should just ask him directly.”

“absolutely not,” you said quickly, your face heating up.

“why not?” karina teased. “we’re already halfway to solving this mystery. might as well get the confession.”

“no, i think this has already gotten out of control… you guys are too caught up on finding who it is but personally i don’t care that much, i’m fine with not knowing”

“really, even after finding out he’s living in this very dorm?” karina asked walking up to you.

“yeah. i don’t care.” you were lying and they could probably tell by your face but, surprisingly, they didn’t press you.

“okay, fine. let’s go home.”

“i think we should have a sleepover. what do you think, girls?” haechan said and you responded by throwing a pillow at him as you exited the room.

“damn, not even a thank you.” he said, rubbing his head.

you sprinted back into the room and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “thank you!” you said sweetly.

“and clean your room, it stinks!” you yelled from the hallway.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

winter break had ended, and after coming back from visiting your family, you’d mostly forgotten about the fact that your top spender lived in one of your best friend’s dorms.

but your dismissive attitude disappeared as soon as the new term started.

suddenly, you were hyper-aware of every one of haechan’s roommates. even the ones you’d previously ruled out. like, why was jeno suddenly smiling at you from across the dining hall? and was that… a smirk you saw on mark’s face as you walked by? certainly not—you had to be imagining things. you were just being extremely paranoid.

“hey, gorg!!!” giselle greeted you with extra enthusiasm, practically bouncing into the room.

“you’re happy today,” karina observed, raising an eyebrow.

“i am! i really think i cracked this case, y’all.”

you sighed, already bracing yourself. “enlighten us,” you said flatly.

karina rolled her eyes. “you do know no one cares anymore, right?”

giselle ignored her and continued. “by the way, how were you guys’ breaks?” she asked casually before immediately cutting herself off. “never mind, we’ll get to that later. listen, i was in line for food earlier, and guess who i saw?”

when neither of you spoke, she dramatically continued, “jaemin.”

“fork found in kitchen. of course he’d be at the cafeteria during lunch,” you said, unimpressed.

“no, but listen! i said hi to him, and he flinched so hard he nearly dropped his phone. then he tried to hide it.”

“maybe somebody sent him nudes or something,” karina said, shrugging.

giselle shook her head, leaning in conspiratorially. “no, but catch this… he asked if i was here alone, and when i pointed at you”—she turned to you with a wide grin—“he blushed furiously.”

you tsked, slumping back in your chair. “that still proves nothing.”

“okay, but isn’t it suspicious?” giselle pressed. “why would he blush that hard just because i mentioned you?”

“because he’s a human being with a working circulatory system?” you shot back.

karina snorted. “for real. giselle, you’re acting like you just uncovered a government conspiracy.”

“you guys are just blind,” giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “mark my words… it’s him. jaemin’s the one.”

“even if it was him, what am i supposed to do with that information? march up to him and say, ‘hey, thanks for the eighteen grand’?”

“you should,” karina said with a smirk. “at least get him to buy you lunch.”

giselle sighed dramatically, feeling like she was surrounded by fools. “fine. don’t believe me. but when this all comes out, just remember i called it first.”

“boo!”

haechan’s voice was directly in your ear, and you jumped so hard you nearly spilled your coffee all over yourself.

“what the hell! i almost ruined my new skirt,” you snapped, quickly checking to make sure no drops had actually landed on the fabric.

“did you buy that with jaemin’s allowance?” he teased, a grin stretching across his face.

you responded by flipping him off, which only made him laugh as he slid into the seat next to you.

“you heard everything?” karina asked, giving him an unimpressed look.

“hard not to,” he replied casually. “in case you didn’t know, gi, your discreet voice is about as discreet as a foghorn.”

giselle rolled her eyes. “thanks for the input, hacker boy.”

“i’ve already said to drop the topic,” you cut in, frustrated. “what if one of them hears? and! you guys are being so obvious about it… don’t think i haven’t noticed the pointed stares you keep giving to every guy from the dorm. i’m sure they’ve noticed, too.”

“we’re just trying to help,” giselle said, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force.

“and i do appreciate it,” you replied, though your tight smile probably said otherwise, “but i’d appreciate it even more if we all just moved on.”

your tone made it clear that the discussion was over, and the table fell into an awkward silence.

you felt a little bad about shutting them down so abruptly, but the truth was, you didn’t want them to figure out who your top spender was. not because you cared about protecting his identity, exactly… but because you feared that, in the process, they’d also find out the full truth:

you’d already interacted with him before.

not just casually, either. your top spender had paid for private sessions. more than once.

you still didn’t know what he looked like since he’d never turned on his camera but you could probably recognize his voice. a voice that, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, had been replaying in your head ever since that night you found out he was likely a student in this university. a deep voice that had a habit of making your heart race despite your best efforts to stay professional.

“i know you said to drop it, but is it just me or does hae’s nerdy friend keep looking this way every few seconds?” karina asked, nodding subtly toward a table a few feet away.

you turned your head, catching a glimpse of jisung sitting by himself, fiddling with his phone. “maybe he wants to sit with us,” you shrugged. “call him over, hae.”

“yo, jisung!” haechan called, raising a hand to wave the taller boy over.

jisung froze in place, his eyes widening briefly before he hastily shoved on his headphones and scurried away like a startled deer.

you frowned, puzzled. “what was that about?”

“that was so weird,” giselle snorted, biting back a laugh.

“ah, he’s just awkward like that,” haechan said with a casual wave of his hand. “probably saw me sitting with gorgeous girls” he locked eyes with you as he said this “and got scared.”

“anyways,” you rolled your eyes, but the slight twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed your amusement. “i have to go.”

“part-time obligations?” karina asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

“possibly,” you shrugged nonchalantly as you got up.

“can i come?” haechan asked.

you rolled your eyes at haechan’s hopeful grin as he stood up. “you wish,” you said, pushing him back into his seat before grabbing your bag and heading out.

your destination wasn’t your dorm or the library. instead, you made your way to the small studio you rented off-campus, tucked far enough away to avoid suspicion.

the studio was modest, just big enough to fit a bed, a desk, a small bathroom, and your filming setup. the air smelled faintly of vanilla, thanks to the diffuser you kept running to set the mood. locking the door behind you, you exhaled deeply and began preparing for the night.

the routine was familiar, almost comforting. you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you mentally ran through the checklist. after drying off, you slipped into your costume for the night—a delicate white lace dress with baby blue accents that hugged your body in all the right places.

at the vanity, you carefully applied your makeup, adding just enough to transform yourself into collette, your cam girl persona and paired with a small mask that covered your eyes and half of your nose. the wig was the final touch, a wavy style that framed your face perfectly, making you almost unrecognizable from your day-to-day self.

“let’s see,” you adjusted the camera angle to capture the bed and the soft glow of the fairy lights behind it.

you glanced at the table beside the bed, where the new toys you’d promised to showcase were neatly arranged. taking one last look in the mirror, you marveled at how different you looked.

“all right,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your reflection one last time. “let’s get this show started.”

you hit start on your stream, and the chat immediately flooded with messages, emojis, and tips.

“hi, guys!” you greeted, your voice shifting into a higher, sweeter tone. “missed you all so much during the break.”

the messages came in rapid-fire:

“omg collette’s back!”

“you look stunning as always.”

“been waiting for this for weeks!”

you giggled, leaning closer to the camera so that your cleavage filled the frame. “you’re all too sweet. did you miss me that much?”

the chat practically exploded with affirmations, and the pings of tips coming in made you smile wider.

“i see you guys like the new outfit,” you teased, slowly standing to give them a full view of your legs, moisturized and shimmering under the warm light. “but i didn’t just dress up for no reason. i have a surprise for you tonight.”

you reached for the toys on the desk, holding one up for the camera. “look what i got during the break,” you said, biting your lip playfully. “i thought you’d want to help me break them in.”

the tips surged as viewers expressed their excitement, but one notification caught your eye. andyp4rk02 has tipped $100.

you grinned, recognizing the username instantly. “hi, andy,” you said, your tone dropping to something more intimate. “you’re late today. i thought you’d ditched me for someone else.”

a new ping followed, this time $50, accompanied by a highlighted message: “sorry ;) private livestream later to make it up to you?”

you laughed softly, leaning back on the bed. “hmm,” you tapped your chin thoughtfully. “i think i can squeeze you in on my busy schedule.” with a wink, you moved to grab one of the toys, careful not to linger too long on a single viewer.

“shall we begin?” you asked, spreading your legs slightly to reveal that you were wearing nothing underneath the flimsy lace dress.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

on the other side of the screen, jisung sat in his dimly lit dorm, his face illuminated only by the glow of his computer. he’d barely made it back in time, his breath still heavy from the sprint across campus. it didn’t help that the second he clicked into your livestream, you were already spread out on the bed, teasing the camera with that perfect smile.

he adjusted his glasses nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. his heart was racing, but not from the run. no, it was from you. when you spread your legs, his breath hitched, and he felt his stomach tighten.

“you’re late today,” you’d said, and jisung shivered. god, it was like you were talking directly to him. well, you technically were, but still.

almost as if on autopilot, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. his fingers wrapped around himself, and he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen.

the angle of the camera was perfect. from his perspective, it was easy to imagine that it wasn’t the pink dildo but his own dick sliding in and out of you.

“fuck,” he whispered under his breath as you slid the dildo inside yourself, your lips parting in a perfect "o" shape as you let out a soft moan.

“feels so good,” you breathed into the camera, your lashes fluttering. “can you make me feel good, too?”

“yes,” jisung groaned, his voice shaky as he gripped himself tighter. “god, yes.”

your moans grew louder, your body arching in a way that made his pulse skyrocket. his brows furrowed, and he bit down on his lip, trying to keep quiet so none of his roommates would hear.

you tilted your head back, the camera catching the curve of your neck and the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. “don’t stop,” you whimpered.

as your voice came through his headphones, sultry and sweet, he muttered to himself, “so perfect. so perfect it’s insane.”

his hand moved faster, his mind filled with nothing but the image of you—so close, yet so untouchable.

he leaned closer, his breath fogging the screen for a moment. “god… i can make you feel so much better than that piece of plastic,” he muttered, his tone almost resentful.

“you don’t even know what i’d do to you,” he whispered

in a minute, jisung came hard, his entire body jerking as his cum shot up and splattered directly onto his keyboard and monitor. he barely registered the mess he made until he heard the faint crackle of his PC struggling under the assault.

“no, no, no—fuck!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking as he scrambled to wipe the pc with the sleeve of his hoodie.

it was too late. the screen flickered, the image of you mid-moan freezing for a few painful seconds before the whole system shorted out with a pathetic wheeze and went black. jisung sat there in stunned silence for a moment, his hand still clutching the stained hoodie sleeve.

“shit…” he muttered, not out of concern for his destroyed PC but because he was now going to miss the rest of your live.

this wasn’t the first time this happened. clearly, his setup was already on its last legs from similar incidents but it still sent a wave of frustration through him.

he slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “guess i’ll just have to catch the replay,” he mumbled, though the thought didn’t satisfy him nearly as much.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the first day of the semester loomed the next morning. you had promised yourself this was the year you’d start fresh. on time to every class, taking meticulous notes, and becoming the academic weapon you’d always meant to be.

of course, none of that happened.

you didn’t hear your alarm because you’d been up until 3 a.m. doing private livestreams for your top subscribers. normally, private sessions didn’t last more than 20 minutes, but andy had an uncanny way of distracting you with his playful, teasing messages, keeping you hooked well past the scheduled time.

you ran into your first class fifteen minutes late, panting slightly and trying not to look as frazzled as you felt. the professor shot you a disapproving look, but a quick apologetic smile from you had him stammering and waving you off. men are so simple, you thought smugly.

after quickly scanning the room, you noticed all the front-row seats were taken which left you with no choice but to settle near the back. you sighed and headed to an open seat in the second-to-last row, cursing your luck.

on your right sat some frat guy you vaguely recognized from the same house as karina’s boyfriend. his name escaped you, but since he was already asleep with his mouth hanging open, you didn’t bother introducing yourself.

on your left, the person was less immediately recognizable. he was hunched over, hoodie drawn tight around his face, typing furiously on his laptop. his long, slender fingers flew across the keyboard with precision, but he didn’t seem remotely aware of your presence.

you cleared your throat softly, hoping to get his attention. nothing.

you tried again, slightly louder this time, but his focus didn’t waver. finally, you tapped his shoulder lightly.

“excuse me, did i miss anything important?”

his fingers froze mid-typing, but he still didn’t look at you. instead, he tilted his laptop slightly in your direction, revealing a neatly formatted list of bullet points. most likely corrections to the syllabus the professor went over at the start of class.

“oh,” you said, caught off guard. “can i take a pic of that?”

he gave a small nod, still not meeting your eyes.

you quickly snapped a photo and smiled. “thank you so much,” you said, your tone warm as you instinctively squeezed his forearm in gratitude.

you felt his entire body stiffen under your touch, his arm tense as if you’d zapped him.

“mhm…” he finally muttered, his voice low and rough from disuse.

you glanced at him again, catching a glimpse of his side profile as he adjusted his hoodie. sharp jawline, glasses slightly askew, and lips pressed into a thin line as he quickly returned his focus to his laptop.

you tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.

“well, thanks again,” you said softly, giving him one last smile before turning back to face the professor.

behind his laptop, jisung exhaled shakily, the spot where you’d touched him burning.

jisung knew you were one of haechan’s friends. he’d watched you walk in and out of the dorm more times than he cared to admit. you were always laughing, tossing your hair over your shoulder in a way that made jisung’s eyes land on you unavoidably.

normally, he wouldn’t even glance twice at the girls his roommates brought around. they were all the same: loud, shallow, and obsessed with their reflection in any shiny surface.

but you weren’t like them.

he’d noticed it the first time you came over. how your voice was softer, more melodic, how you smelled like warm vanilla instead of the overpowering floral perfumes he hated. he remembered catching a glimpse of you bending down to grab something off the floor and how his gaze lingered too long on the curve of your legs before he snapped his head away.

since then, it had only gotten worse. it annoyed him that his brain seemed to remember every little detail about you. the way your lips always looked plump and shiny, as if you’d just licked them. how your laugh was this low, throaty sound that made his chest feel tight.

it was frustrating, how easily you wormed your way into his thoughts.

and now, here you were, sitting next to him. jisung felt trapped, his senses overwhelmed by your closeness. the faint rustle of your skirt, the way your knee accidentally grazed his thigh, the soft, almost unintentional hum you made as you shifted in your seat.

he knew it was all normal, just small, insignificant things. but to him, it felt like you were doing it on purpose. when you tapped his shoulder, jisung’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. his first thought was how warm your hand was.

his second thought was how unfair it was that you could touch him so casually.

“did i miss anything important?” you asked, your voice sweet, your smile even sweeter.

jisung didn’t respond right away. he was too busy trying not to look at the way your lips curved when you spoke. he knew if he opened his mouth, something embarrassing would come out. so instead, he tilted his laptop screen toward you, his fingers twitching against the keyboard. you asked if you could take a picture, and normally he didn’t like sharing his notes but he nodded before he could even stop himself.

“thank you so much,” you said, your voice dripping with warmth. and then, as if to kill him on the spot, you squeezed his forearm lightly.

jisung felt like static electricity was zipping through his body. his skin tingled where you touched him, and he stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge how his breath hitched.

she doesn’t even know what she’s doing, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. so damn oblivious.

when you crossed your legs, jisung’s eyes flickered downward before he could stop himself. he caught the briefest glimpse of skin, the hem of your skirt riding up just enough to reveal more of your thigh, and his face flushed.

stop it, he scolded himself, tearing his gaze away.

but he couldn’t help it. he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop the way his imagination spiraled. he wondered what it would feel like if you touched him for more than a second. if your fingers lingered. if you looked at him the way you looked at your stupid phone.

his hands curled into fists under the desk, nails digging into his palms. he shifted uncomfortably, trying to will his body into behaving, but your proximity was making it impossible to think straight.

when the professor announced that these would be your assigned seats for the semester, jisung nearly groaned out loud. six months. six months of sitting next to you, of your bare legs grazing his, of your infuriatingly sweet perfume clouding his brain.

how am i supposed to survive this?

jisung clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking to the faint sparkle of lotion on your legs again.

she probably doesn’t even know how many guys in this room would kill to sit where i’m sitting right now, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek.

and yet, despite everything, jisung couldn’t help but feel a sick sort of satisfaction at being this close to you. like he was privy to something no one else was.

and as messed up as it was, he liked that you didn’t know. that you had no idea how much space you took up in his mind.

he glanced sideways at you again, the corner of his lip twitching as you absentmindedly adjusted your skirt.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

jisung bought a new pc, but it wouldn’t be delivered until the end of the week due to delays in the post office. he hated waiting. the old one had been perfect for watching your livestreams but now he was stuck with his laptop. the smaller screen didn’t do you justice. everything felt cramped and wrong, your image reduced to something far too small and impersonal. it frustrated him to no end.

so, in his growing desperation, jisung resorted to something he swore he wouldn’t do: borrowing haechan’s pc. at first, he only asked when he knew haechan would be out for hours, spinning some lie about needing to work on assignments that required a better setup for coding. surprisingly, haechan didn’t question him. he barely seemed to care, too busy running off to hang out with you and your group of friends. lately, you all seemed closer than ever, constantly whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.

not that jisung cared, of course.

but ever since you’d started sitting next to him in class, he couldn’t help but notice you even more. the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs every six or seven minutes or tapped your temple when the professor talked about a complicated topic. he hated that he was paying attention to things he usually wouldn’t. it was a complete waste of time.

today, jisung was forcing himself to focus. he had an essay due tomorrow, and he’d been putting it off for way too long, distracted by you (clearly) and everything Collette— streams, photos, even the grainy replays he managed to dig up online. last night was supposed to be productive, but instead, he’d spent hours rewatching one of the camgirl’s older private streams. by the time he passed out, his laptop was dangerously close to falling off his bed, his boxers halfway down his legs, and his dick sore after a night of relentless jerking off.

he made his way to the library, determined to lock himself in one of the private study rooms and finally finish his work. he needed to focus. no distractions, no excuses.

but when he opened the door to the room he’d booked, all of his resolve shattered.

you were there.

your books and laptop scattered across the table, and you were leaning over, reaching for something just out of your grasp. jisung froze in the doorway, his breath catching as his eyes landed on you. or, more specifically, the strip of black lace peeking out from under your skirt.

he knew he should look away. but his body didn’t seem to get the memo. instead, his eyes remained fixed on the sight, his chest tightening as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room.

his fingers twitched at his side, gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white. why are you wearing that? he thought, the question racing through his mind before he could stop it. are you wearing it for someone?

you shifted slightly, turning your head as if you sensed someone behind you, and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.

“uh—sorry,” jisung croaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “i—uh—this is... my room. i mean, the room i booked.”

you turned fully to him, startled at first, but then your expression softened into a smile when you realized it was him.

“oh, jisung!” you said brightly, smoothing down your skirt. “i didn’t realize this room was taken. sorry, i’ve just been so distracted, i guess i wasn’t paying attention.”

he forced himself to meet your eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. you recognized him now. during the first week of the semester, you’d seemed to be trying to place him in your mind, but he figured you finally connected the dots and realized he was haechan’s roommate after all.

“it’s... fine,” he muttered, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. the sound echoed louder than it should have, making him wince. “i didn’t know anyone would be here.”

“well, i can leave if you want,” you offered, gesturing toward your scattered books and notes. “but if you don’t mind sharing, i really need to finish studying for a test tomorrow.”

jisung hesitated, his mind racing. on one hand, the idea of sharing a small, enclosed space with you was borderline terrifying. but on the other hand, the thought of you leaving made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t like to think too hard about.

“no need,” he mumbled, setting his bag down at the far end of the table. “you can stay.”

you beamed at him, and he felt a weird mix of pride and dread settle in his chest.

“thanks! you’re a lifesaver.”

you turned back to your laptop, leaving him to settle into his seat. jisung tried his best to focus on his essay, but his eyes kept drifting to you: the way you twirled your pen between your fingers, the way your lips pursed as you concentrated, the way your skirt kept riding up with every slight movement.

he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his gaze back to his screen. his essay wasn’t going to write itself, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he could escape this.

but as jisung stared blankly at the screen, the words refused to come to him. his mind was too fogged up, the image of your black lace panties flashing at him. he could still feel the phantom heat pooling uncomfortably low in his stomach.

he adjusted his glasses for the tenth time in five minutes, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie sleeve. he needed to concentrate, needed to shove every inappropriate thought out of his head and focus on the stupid essay that was due in less than twelve hours.

but every tap of your pen, every soft sigh as you read your notes pulled his attention like a magnet. he could feel his skin prickling under the weight of his own thoughts, and it was starting to make him nauseous.

you shifted in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and jisung caught a glimpse of your bare thighs again. he wondered how soft they’d feel under his fingers. he clenched his jaw, staring harder at the blinking cursor on his laptop. just focus. just write.

“hey,” you said suddenly, your voice soft but startling in the quiet room. jisung’s head snapped up so fast his glasses slipped down his nose.

“yeah?” he croaked, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. he cleared his throat and tried again. “what’s up?”

you held up a book. “do you know anything about this? it’s for my history class, but i’m kind of lost on what the professor’s looking for.”

jisung blinked at the book, trying to register the title through the haze clouding his brain. the sight of your manicured fingers gripping the edge of the hardcover didn’t help his focus.

“uh… yeah, i think so,” he mumbled, his words fumbling over themselves. “i took that class last semester. what’s the assignment?”

you slid your chair closer to his, flipping the book open to a highlighted section. jisung stiffened as you leaned in, your shoulder brushing against his.

he could smell your perfume better now. it made his head swim, and his palms sweat.

“here,” you said, pointing to a passage. “i’m supposed to write an analysis on this, but honestly, it’s not making any sense to me.”

jisung forced himself to look at the page, his eyes skimming over the text even though he couldn’t process a single word. your proximity was unbearable, and the way you tilted your head to look at him made him hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.

“um,” he started, his voice cracking again. “it’s… about, uh, symbolism, i think. like how they use imagery to—”

his words faltered as your leg shifted, pressing briefly against his under the table.

“oh, i get it now!” you said, your eyes lighting up as you turned back to the book. “thanks, jisung, you’re really helpful.”

he swallowed hard, nodding stiffly as you returned to your side of the table. his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his laptop, trying desperately to block out the lingering warmth of your touch.

as the first hour dragged on, jisung realized he’d barely touched his essay. instead, he found himself cataloging every little thing you did, learning more about your quirks and mannerisms than the topic he was supposed to be researching.

he noticed the way you squinted slightly when reading something closely. do you need glasses? the thought struck him out of nowhere, and the idea of you wearing a pair made his throat tighten and his dick stir to life.

you only seemed to use blue highlighters and matching blue post-it notes. the monochrome dedication was oddly satisfying to watch. jisung noticed you had a habit of twirling the highlighter between your fingers when you were deep in thought, the motion almost hypnotic.

when you weren’t sipping on your drink or snacking on something you’d fidget endlessly, picking up your phone, or tapping your nails on the table in an uneven rhythm. once, you opened an app but closed it just as quickly, as if scolding yourself for getting distracted. jisung smirked at that.

he noticed the way you pouted while typing, your lips forming a subtle, natural curve. every time you got stuck on something, you’d grab a blank page from your notebook and start scribbling aimlessly sometimes doodling stars or flowers in the margins, other times writing the same word over and over like you were trying to etch it into your brain.

you also had a habit of adjusting your necklace every few minutes, fiddling with the pendant as if grounding yourself. jisung wondered if it had some kind of sentimental value.

and then there was the small gasp you let out every time you found a passage you liked, quickly followed by you underlining it with almost comical precision. jisung thought it was cute, though he tried to push that thought away.

by the time the second hour rolled around, he was practically vibrating with tension. not just from the overwhelming presence of you, but from his own failure to accomplish anything.

you sighed softly and closed your laptop, stretching in your seat with a lazy grace that made his stomach flip. the movement caused your shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin and a tiny birthmark just above your hip bone.

jisung’s eyes widened. it was a small, and it was a flushed, pinkish hue, vaguely resembling the shape of a flower petal—or maybe a heart if he squinted.

why does that look so familiar?

he frowned, his brain scrambling to piece together the connection. it snagged at him, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. had he seen it on you before? no, that didn’t make sense.

and then it hit him.

his heart stuttered as he remembered one of the streams he’d watched not long ago… collette’s stream. she’d been wearing lingerie that night, black with sheer panels, and at one point, she’d adjusted the waistband, revealing a glimpse of a tiny birthmark right above the hip.

holy shit.

jisung’s face burned as he realized the truth, his hands clenching into fists under the table. he couldn’t believe it. the girl he’d been obsessing over online, the one he’d jerked off to more times than he could count, was sitting right next to him.

he stumbled out of his seat, movements clumsy and frantic as he fumbled to gather his things. his hands trembled slightly as he zipped his backpack and he mumbled some half-formed excuse about having plans with haechan. the words tumbled out so quickly they were barely coherent. before you could even process what he was saying, let alone respond, he was already at the door, practically tripping over himself in his rush to leave.

“what an odd kid,” you giggled to yourself, shaking your head at his bizarre behavior.

he was strange, sure, but undeniably cute in his awkwardness. you’d always had a soft spot for guys who didn’t know what to do with themselves, and jisung was no exception. there was something endearing about the way he seemed perpetually out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. but beneath the oversized hoodies and baggy sweatpants, you could tell he was hiding something.

he had broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his clothes in a way that made you want to see more, and you still hadn’t forgotten the time he’d stripped off his hoodie on that unbearably hot day. the hem of his shirt had lifted with it, giving you the briefest glimpse of his waist, narrow and impossibly toned. you’d been thinking about that moment more often than you’d like to admit.

sitting next to him in class had only amplified things. you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted toward you every few minutes, his gaze lingering on your legs before he quickly looked away, as if he thought you wouldn’t notice. that’s exactly why you made it a point to only wear skirts to that class; short ones, ones that made it impossible for him not to look. it was a game, one you were starting to enjoy far too much.

you liked his hands too. he had large hands with long, slender fingers that flew clumsily over the keys of his laptop. you caught yourself staring at them during class, imagining how they’d feel against your skin, the way they’d grip your waist or tangle in your hair. you wondered if they were soft or if they’d leave a pleasant roughness behind.

his glasses added to the appeal, big-framed and slightly crooked on his nose. they couldn’t hide his soft, pretty eyes, though, or the moles scattered across his pale skin. every detail about him seemed perfectly crafted to make him irresistible in the most unassuming way.

but then there was the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind, the one you couldn’t seem to shake: was jisung really your top spender? your friends had been so sure, pointing out all the coincidences, and you couldn’t deny that it was starting to feel like too much to ignore.

you smiled to yourself at the thought, unable to help the way your lips curled into something slightly wicked. haechan had mentioned how much time jisung spent in his room, his activities hardly a secret if you listened to the muffled sounds that occasionally slipped through the walls.

the idea made your pulse quicken, a thrill running down your spine as you considered how to take things to the next level. if jisung was your top spender then he was already yours in ways he probably didn’t even realize.

you toyed with the idea of making the first move, testing the waters to see just how far you could push him. he was skittish, easily flustered, and you had no doubt that one well-placed touch or whispered word would send him into a complete meltdown.

you suspected that if you really went for it, jisung might just have a heart attack on the spot. and for some reason, that thought only made you want to do it more.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the next time you met him in class, you decided it was time to confirm once and for all if he was into you. you dressed for the occasion, a skirt that showed just enough leg to make him squirm, paired with a low-cut top and your favorite push-up bra, the one that made your boobs look perfect. you threw on a sweater for good measure, unzipping it casually when you sat next to him, just enough to reveal the curve of your collarbones and the top of your cleavage.

“hey, jisung!” you said, your voice soft and lilting.

he barely looked at you, his lips moving in what you assumed was a greeting, but it was so quiet you couldn’t make out the words. he didn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, and from the way he kept staring at his laptop, you wondered if he’d even noticed the effort you put into your outfit.

you leaned in slightly, catching the faint scent of his detergent mixed with something musky. “sungie?” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.

his jaw clenched at the nickname, and his hands froze over his laptop keys. “hm?” he finally managed, his eyes flickering up to your face for the briefest of moments before darting away again.

“do you want to work on the project together?” you asked, tilting your head innocently.

his brows furrowed as he blinked at you, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and panic. “what… what project?” he stammered, his voice shaky, his breath audibly hitching when his gaze unintentionally dropped to your chest.

“the one he just announced,” you said, nodding toward the screen where the professor had outlined the details of the group assignment.

you watched as his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow, and he peeled his eyes away from you with visible effort. “oh… uh…” he trailed off, biting his lip. the gesture drew your attention to just how plush and soft they looked.

“if you don’t want to, it’s okay,” you said, leaning back slightly, your pout deliberate and perfectly executed. “i just thought since you helped me with my assignment last time, you’d be a good partner.”

he glanced at you again, his gaze lingering this time, as if trying to gauge your expression. your wide, hopeful eyes seemed to make his decision for him. “okay…” he mumbled, the word barely audible.

“really? yay!” you said, your voice bright with excitement as you reached out and wrapped your hands around his arm in a playful squeeze. the movement was quick, but enough for your chest to press lightly against him, the warmth of your body radiating through his hoodie.

jisung stiffened immediately, every nerve in his body firing off alarms. the combination of your softness and the faint scent of vanilla clinging to your skin was almost enough to send him over the edge. he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his composure, but the air felt thick and suffocating, and he was perilously close to letting out a moan that would’ve humiliated him in front of the entire room.

“i promise i won’t be a burden,” you added, flashing him a dazzling smile that showcased your perfectly sized teeth. “i’ll do my part, i swear.”

he nodded mechanically, his brain too messed up with the feel of your body against his and the lingering image of your lips curling into that smile. “y-yeah…” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.

as you turned your attention back to the professor, jisung exhaled slowly, his pulse racing. his hands gripped his laptop so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he realized with growing dread that this partnership might actually kill him.

when class ended, you stayed behind, which was unusual since you were usually one of the first to dart out the door. as jisung zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, he noticed you looking at him expectantly. he panicked. did he have something of yours?

jisung glanced nervously at his belongings, double-checking as if your pencil or notebook might have somehow ended up with him. but you didn’t say anything. the silence stretched awkwardly until you finally stood up.

since the rows were so narrow, your movement brought you close… too close. jisung gulped as you stepped into his space, your perfume wrapping around him. he tightened his grip on his backpack straps.

“do you wanna start working on the project now? i have classes every day, and my evenings are pretty busy, so…” your voice trailed off meaningfully. jisung knew. oh, he knew. your evenings were reserved for livestreams. his evenings were also reserved for your livestreams. obviously, the project couldn’t cut into those sacred hours.

“uh, okay… do you wanna go to the library?” he managed, pushing his glasses up his nose. they kept sliding down because he had to crane his neck to look at you from this close distance.

“sure! next time, we can work at your dorm. i’d offer mine, but we have a strict no-boys policy in the apartment,” you said with a laugh, then added, “though my roommates break that rule all the time.”

“what about you?” the question tumbled out of jisung’s mouth before his brain could intercept it. his eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he asked that

but you didn’t seem fazed. instead, you grinned. “you know, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you teased, throwing in a wink that made his brain implode just a little.

as you spoke, jisung’s gaze flitted over you again—your mannerisms, your voice, that unmistakable charisma. the longer he looked, the more it hit him like a sledgehammer to the face. how had he not recognized you as collette sooner? sure, you wore a mask on the streams, and your hair was styled differently, but it was unmistakable now. you were her. and yet, standing here in front of him, you felt even more unattainable.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

at the library again, you couldn’t find a private room since you hadn’t booked ahead, so you settled for a secluded table tucked into the corner of the study area. it was jisung’s favorite spot on campus, not that he’d ever admit that to you. he didn’t want to look more like a loser than he already did.

you’d tied your hair up in a ponytail, and jisung wished you hadn’t. the simple change opened up your neck and collarbones, exposing more skin for his eyes to betray him over. he swore he could count the faint freckles scattered across your shoulders if he stared long enough. and, god, did he want to.

jisung sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to reset his brain. he needed to focus. if he was going to make it through this study session, he needed to stop thinking about your freckles or how your lip gloss shimmered every time your mouth moved.

focus, jisung. he started mentally listing the least sexy things he could think of: spongebob, frogs, khaki jeans, loud chewing. he even dredged up the memory of his fourth-grade math teacher, a grumpy woman he was convinced secretly hated him. it worked, until he realized you were talking to him, and he’d been staring straight past you like an idiot.

“sorry, what was that?” he blurted, blinking rapidly and focusing in on your glossy lips forming the last word of whatever you’d said.

you tilted your head slightly, your ponytail swaying with the movement. “i said, do you want to split up the research? or do you just want to work on the same section together?”

“uh…” jisung’s brain scrambled for footing, his face heating up again. “splitting it up is fine. yeah. let’s do that.”

you smiled at him, and he swore it felt like the library got ten degrees hotter. “great! i’ll take the first half, and you can take the second?”

“sure,” he mumbled, fumbling to pull out his laptop. as you turned back to your notes, jisung caught himself glancing at your neck and down to your cleavage again. frogs, he thought desperately. frogs. khaki jeans. loud chewing. but none of it helped.

he needed a cold shower. desperately. every time you leaned into him, jisung’s resolve cracked a little more. he was barely hanging on as it was, his left hand glued to his lap, pressing down in a feeble attempt to hide the semi he’d been sporting for the last twenty minutes.

“what do you think of this?” you asked, sliding your laptop toward him. your voice was sweet, your tone light and inviting, but jisung couldn’t focus on anything except how close you were.

“that’s good,” he mumbled quickly, trying to sound casual even though his throat felt like sandpaper.

“really?” you tilted your head, eyeing him skeptically. “you say that about everything i show you.”

“cause you’re really good at this,” he blurted out. he pressed harder on his lap, his fingers twitching in frustration.

you laughed softly, the sound making his heart stutter. then, to his horror, you gave him a slow once-over, your eyes narrowing slightly as you studied him. “you okay? you look tense.”

“yup, all good,” he said too quickly, his voice high-pitched. he glued his eyes to his laptop, pretending to focus on the passage in front of him, though the words blurred together into an unintelligible mess. please stop looking at me, he begged silently. please.

but instead, you cocked your head, resting your chin in your hand. “you know,” you began thoughtfully, “you sound like someone i know.”

jisung froze. fuck.

his mind went blank, panic flooding his system. his ears burned, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. did you figure it out? do you know?

“but it couldn’t possibly be,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you turned back to your notes. “you’re too different.”

he released a shaky breath, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst through his ribs. his lips pressed into a tight line as he risked a glance at you. so you did remember andy. jisung had assumed that with so many followers, even your most loyal supporter might fade into the background of your memory. but the private livestreams, the filthy words jisung had whispered that made you moan harder, all the praises and compliments he showered you with—it seemed those had stuck with you. because you remembered his voice.

“i’m gonna use the restroom really quick,” you said, standing up abruptly.

jisung’s eyes followed you as you walked away, the sway of your hips distracting him momentarily before reality snapped back into focus. as soon as you were out of sight, he groaned, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at his lap and the unmistakable tent that had formed there.

he needed to take care of this. now.

standing up, jisung winced at the sensitivity and began making his way toward the bathroom, his head down in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone. but just as he approached the hallway, he caught the sound of muffled voices. one of them raised, the other low and pleading. his steps faltered when he recognized your voice.

he crept closer and pressed himself against the wall, just barely peeking around the corner. there you were, gesturing wildly, your brows furrowed in anger as you stood toe-to-toe with someone jisung instantly recognized as sungchan, the captain of the basketball team.

“i told you to leave me alone,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “texting me from taro’s phone? really? now you’re dragging other people into this? why can’t you just understand that i want nothing to do with you anymore?”

“y/n, please,” sungchan said, his tone dripping with desperation. “i don’t know what else you want me to do. i’ve apologized a million times, and i’ve cut all communication with her. i haven’t seen her in months.”

he took a step closer, but you shoved him back by the chest.

“you should’ve done that before fucking her, don’t you think?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“hey, it didn’t mean a thing to me, you know that,” sungchan said, his voice softening as he reached for your hip and squeezed. “you’re the only one i want.”

your body stiffened at his touch, and you glared up at him. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he didn’t move, his grip firm.

jisung’s jaw clenched. his fists balled at his sides as his eye twitched. why the hell was this guy touching you when it was clear you didn’t want him to?

“c’mon, baby,” sungchan purred, leaning in dangerously close to your neck. “you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good.”

before jisung could stop himself, he was stepping out from behind the corner. he cleared his throat loudly. the sound startled no one, so he did it again, this time pairing it with a sharp, “hey.”

his voice came out deeper than he expected, reverberating in the narrow hallway.

sungchan’s head snapped up, pulling away from your neck as he turned to look at the interruption. your eyes widened when they landed on jisung, standing there taller than usual, his broad shoulders squared.

“just wanted to check if you were alright,” jisung said, his gaze fixed on you, his voice steady.

sungchan’s expression darkened as his grip on your hip tightened. “and who the hell are you?” he spat, his tone venomous.

jisung didn’t flinch at sungchan’s hostility. his dark eyes flickered to your hip, where sungchan’s hand still rested, and then back to sungchan’s face.

“her partner,” jisung said evenly, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle edge. technically, he wasn’t lying, you were his group partner. “and she doesn’t look too comfortable right now.”

you glanced at jisung, your lips parting in surprise. sungchan let out a dry laugh, his hand finally dropping from your hip as he turned to fully face jisung. he towered over most people, but jisung stood his ground, unbothered by the difference in height.

“you’re her partner?” sungchan sneered, looking jisung up and down with a smirk that screamed condescension. “you don’t seem like her type.”

jisung’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. he looked at you instead, his voice softening slightly. “you sure you’re okay?”

your lips pressed together as you nodded quickly, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “i’m fine, jisung. really.”

but sungchan wasn’t done. “jisung, huh?” he repeated, his smirk widening. “sounds familiar. oh, wait—” he tilted his head, mockingly stroking his chin. “aren’t you that quiet little nobody who’s always hiding in haechan’s shadow?”

jisung didn’t react to the insult, though his nails dug into his palms. “that’s me,” he said with a shrug, his voice still maddeningly steady. “and you’re the guy who can’t take a hint and harasses girls.”

sungchan’s smirk dropped instantly, his expression hardening. “what did you just say?”

“you heard me,” jisung replied, his voice low. he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his confidence only making sungchan’s irritation grow. “she asked you to leave her alone, didn’t she? or was that too complicated for you to understand?”

you blinked at jisung, momentarily stunned at his boldness. sungchan, on the other hand, took a step forward, his fists clenching.

“listen here, you little shi—”

“stop!” your voice cut through the tension. both jisung and sungchan turned to look at you. you stepped between them, your expression firm as you faced sungchan. “i meant what i said, sungchan. this is over. stop calling me, stop texting me, stop showing up where i am. just—stop. i don’t want to see you anymore.”

sungchan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as he stared at you. “fine,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else is gonna treat you like i did.”

jisung couldn’t hold back the quiet scoff that escaped him, and sungchan shot him a glare before storming off down the hallway.

as the echo of sungchan’s footsteps faded, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. you turned to jisung, your expression both grateful and embarrassed.

“thanks,” you said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “you didn’t have to do that.”

jisung shrugged, his face a little pink as he adjusted his glasses again. “it’s no big deal. i just… couldn’t stand there and do nothing.”

“still, i appreciate it. my knight in shining glasses” you gave him a small smile.

jisung’s ears burned at the nickname, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “ha, yeah.”

you laughed lightly “c’mon,” you said, gesturing toward the library’s main area. “let’s continue working”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you continued having sessions for the project after class, and slowly, jisung started coming out of his shell. he still mumbled and stuttered every now and then, especially when your attention lingered on him for too long, but he was starting to hold actual conversations now. and once he got going, it was hard to stop him. he’d gush about the most random things, like his favorite video game characters or how much he hated remakes of old horror movies. sometimes, he’d pull up conspiracy theory videos about aliens on his phone, his voice picking up speed as he rambled about the possibility of extraterrestrial life.

“i mean, think about it… how could we be the only ones in this massive universe? that’s just statistically improbable,” he’d say, adjusting his glasses as he leaned closer to show you grainy footage of a supposed UFO. you’d nod along, amused by his enthusiasm, even if half of it went over your head.

you also learned jisung had a thing for metal music. he shyly pulled out his phone one day to show you his collection of signed albums from bands you’d never even heard of. “this one’s from when they did a secret show in busan,” he explained, his fingers tracing the signatures like they were sacred artifacts. “and this? their first album. impossible to find in good condition.”

“wow, you’re really into this,” you said, smirking as you scrolled through the pictures. “so... are you in a band or something?”

he flushed immediately, shaking his head. “no, no! i’m not cool enough for that,” he muttered.

you couldn’t help but smile. “i think you’re cool,” you said simply, and his ears turned pink.

but jisung’s curiosity didn’t stop at music or aliens. he was fascinated by the simplest things. one time, you brought a new lip gloss to class—the kind that didn’t smudge or rub off no matter what. jisung had been so impressed that he begged you to show him how it worked.

“wait, so it stays on? like, even if you eat something? how?” he asked, eyes wide as you swiped some on the back of your hand.

“even if i kissed you right now it wouldn’t come off”

“oh… w-what’s in it? do you have the ingredients list?” he stuttered, his hand coming up to his face to hide the blush on his cheeks.

you laughed. “are you serious right now?”

“yes! this is pretty cool,” he said shyly. “i need to know.”

he was, all in all, a total nerd. but you found that endearing. you liked how he could get so passionate about the smallest details, even if he didn’t realize how cute he looked when he did it.

what you wanted to know most, though, was if he was really loaded. after all, someone had to be, to spend eighteen thousand dollars like that. one particular evening, while you were working on the project at a cafe, you decided to subtly bring it up.

“so... you said you tutor a lot of students, right?” you asked, stirring your iced coffee.

jisung nodded, flipping through his notes. “yeah. it’s decent money, especially before exams.”

“and you... do homework for them too?” you added, raising an eyebrow.

he hesitated, looking a little guilty. “only when they pay extra,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “but yeah. it’s not a big deal.”

“huh,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “you must be really good at it to make that much money.”

“i mean, i guess,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “but it’s not that much.”

“you sure about that?” you teased, giving him a knowing look. “because eighteen thousand isn’t exactly chump change.”

his head snapped up, and for a moment, he looked like a scared hamster. “w-what?” he stammered.

“nothing,” you said, smiling innocently.

he went back to his notes, but you didn’t miss the way his hand trembled slightly as he flipped the page. interesting.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the next time jisung almost had a heart attack because of you was after one particularly grueling day of tutoring half of sungchan’s frat. he’d spent hours going over equations with guys who clearly had no interest in learning and had been on edge the whole time, doing his best to avoid running into sungchan himself. all the bravery he’d mustered at the library had definitely worn off.

he finally made it back to his dorm, exhausted and ready to collapse, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, flipping through one of the XXX magazines sitting on his desk. his eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.

you noticed him and laughed at his expression. “one of your roommates let me in,” you said, your voice light and teasing. “i think his name’s jaemin?”

jisung blinked, his brain struggling to process. “uh… yeah, jaemin,” he managed to stammer.

“i came to see haechan, but he wasn’t in,” you explained, crossing your legs in a way jisung was so familiar with now. “so i thought i’d pay my new best friend a visit.”

his stomach did a full somersault as he realized you were talking about him. “oh… uhm, hi” he said weakly, scratching the back of his head as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

“hi,” you echoed with a grin, holding up the magazine. “some interesting reading material you’ve got here.”

“t-that’s not mine,” he blurted out, his face flushing red. “it’s haechan’s. i swear.”

you tilted your head, clearly unconvinced but too amused to care. “no need to be embarrassed,” you said casually, placing the magazine back on his desk. “you’re not the first boy in whose room i’ve found porn.”

jisung’s ears burned, and he had no idea how to respond to that. “right…” he muttered, shifting awkwardly.

“your room’s cleaner than i expected,” you added, glancing around.

“did you think i’d be messy?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“hmm, more like… sloppy,” you said, arching a brow in a way that could only be described as suggestive.

jisung swallowed hard, unsure if you were flirting or just messing with him. either way, his brain was short-circuiting. “oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he intended.

you laughed and leaned back on your hands, watching him with that same playful glint in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m just messing with you.”

he let out a small, nervous chuckle and stepped further into the room, trying to act like your presence wasn’t completely throwing him off. “so, uh… what brings you here?” he asked, carefully setting his backpack down.

“just bored,” you said with a shrug. “and since you’re my new best friend, i figured you’d entertain me.”

he blinked. “entertain?” shit, he almost got hard just hearing that.

“obviously,” you said, grinning. “you’re way more fun than haechan anyway.”

jisung doubted that, but he wasn’t about to argue. instead, he sat down at his desk, desperately trying to ignore how pretty you looked sitting on his bed.

“how about you show me how to play that game you talked about?” you asked, walking over to him and resting your arm on his gaming chair.

jisung blinked up at you, startled. “you wanna learn how to play League of Legends?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“sure. it sounded fun when you told me about it,” you said with a casual shrug.

“uhm, okay then,” jisung said, his voice a little higher than usual as he leaned to flip the power switch on his PC. then he paused, realizing he didn’t have an extra chair. “wait, let me go borrow haechan’s chair,” he said quickly, jogging out of the room.

when jisung returned, chair in hand, his steps faltered. you were leaning over his desk, your skirt riding up just enough to show him what color were your panties today. his first thought, entirely unhelpful, was how badly he wanted to bend you over that desk. his second thought, unfortunately delayed, was that you had turned on his monitor.

and on the screen, clear as day, was his account page.

“so, it was you,” you said, the tone of your voice laced with triumph.

jisung’s eyes widened, panic flaring to life. “what—what are you talking about?” he stammered, dropping the chair with a clatter.

“andyp4rk02,” you said, your voice lilting with satisfaction as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. “i felt it was you. but i’m glad to have a confirmation now.”

jisung froze, his breath catching in his throat as his brain scrambled for something to say. “i—uh—what—”

“you’re not even gonna try to deny it?” you teased, stepping closer to him, the corner of your mouth quirking up in a smirk. “honestly, i was starting to think i was crazy. but you just confirmed it.”

“i—it’s not—” jisung’s voice cracked as he tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

you tilted your head, watching him struggle with an almost predatory gleam in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m not mad,” you said, your tone softer now, though it didn’t erase the teasing edge. “in fact…” you took another step closer, your voice lowering slightly. “i’m intrigued.”

“huh?” jisung’s voice was barely above a whisper, his throat dry as he tried to process what you were saying.

“the one thing i’m most curious about,” you said, taking a step closer, your tone casual but your gaze sharp, “is how you… a freshman, who doesn’t seem to have a job besides tutoring, managed to splurge thousands of dollars on me?”

jisung swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “i just…” he mumbled, looking away, his ears burning as he avoided your piercing gaze.

“c’mon, don’t be shy.” you leaned in slightly, your smirk widening. “andy would’ve bent me over that desk over there and started spilling every single thing i asked for.”

jisung’s eyes snapped up to your face, wide with shock. how did you know exactly what had flashed through his mind mere seconds ago?

“s-sorry,” jisung stammered, looking like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “this is just… are you really not uncomfortable? with me, i mean?”

“why would i be?” you asked, tilting your head as though the question itself was ridiculous. “i’ve gotten to know you better now. i know you’re not a weirdo or anything.”

jisung blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky wasn’t blue. “but i—i mean, with everything i said to you before… all of that—”

“all of that was online,” you cut him off smoothly, your tone light. “and honestly? i think it’s kinda cute how much you adored me. well, adore me,” you corrected with a sly grin.

jisung’s jaw dropped slightly, his face somehow heating even more. “you… think it’s cute?”

“of course,” you said with a soft shrug, your tone so casual it was almost disarming. “you’ve been sweet this whole time, even when you were trying so hard to hide it. honestly, i’m flattered.”

your lips curled into a teasing smile as you leaned in just slightly. “but now, i want to know—” your voice dipped lower, warm and slow. your eyes locked with his, drawing him in without effort. “how did you manage it? the money, i mean.”

jisung swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggled to form a coherent response. “well… uhm…” he shifted nervously, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “i… saved up a lot of money since i was a kid,” he began, his voice quiet but steady as he forced himself to meet your gaze.

“i made a system,” he continued, his words gaining a bit more confidence as he explained. “i cashed a lot of favors, even in school. i’ve been doing other people’s homework since primary, practically. also…” he hesitated, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before darting back to you. “my dad… he started giving me an allowance every month when i was 14, and i never really used it for anything. so… i’ve just been saving. for a long time.”

you tilted your head slightly, clearly intrigued. “wow,” you murmured, crossing your arms in thought. the movement wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was—but it pushed your cleavage up just enough to make jisung’s brain stutter.

his eyes flickered down for half a second before he froze, his face turning crimson. his chest tightened, his breath shallow, because he was sure that if he so much as brushed against you right now, he’d moan like some desperate, pathetic fool.

“that’s… impressive,” you added, breaking the silence, though your tone had shifted, tinged with something almost playful. “you must’ve been really dedicated to saving all that up.” your words hung in the air, light and teasing, but your gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper.

“y-yeah,” jisung stammered, his hands fidgeting by his sides. “i guess i’ve just… always been good with managing money.”

“clearly,” you said with a grin. you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping just enough to send his heart into overdrive. “it’s kinda sexy, you know.”

jisung’s brain went blank, his entire body tensing as if he couldn’t process what he’d just heard. sexy? he repeated in his mind, struggling not to outwardly combust. his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out, and the only sound was the faint hum of his computer in the background.

“you okay?” you asked, your smile widening as you noticed his wide-eyed expression.

“y-yeah,” he managed to croak out, though his voice cracked slightly.

“relax, jisung,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. his breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but smile at how utterly helpless he looked under your gaze.

“i-i am,” he stammered, but the way he gripped the desk behind him for support said otherwise.

you laughed softly, tilting your head as your hand slid up his arm, fingers ghosting over his bicep before trailing down to rest lightly on his chest. “sure you are,” you murmured, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his ear. “you’ve been nervous since you entered the room.”

“i… i’m not nervous,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“oh, really?” you teased, letting your hand slip under the hem of his shirt. your fingertips grazed the warm skin of his stomach, and he jolted, sucking in a sharp breath. “but you’re trembling.”

“t-that’s not—” his words were cut off when your other hand came up to brush the hair out of his face, your touch gentle yet firm as you tilted his chin up to meet your eyes.

“you’re so cute,” you whispered, your thumb lightly grazing his jawline. his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly.

“you’ve been so sweet to me, sungie,” you continued, your voice dropping lower. “how could i not want to thank you?”

“t-thank me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth that he let out an involuntary whimper. “mhmm,” you hummed, your lips brushing against his skin as you moved to the other side, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline.

jisung’s breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your hand slid further up his shirt, your nails grazing lightly against his ribs. “is this okay?” you asked softly, your lips hovering near his ear.

“y-yeah,” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.

“good,” you murmured, pressing a kiss just below his ear, then another on the side of his neck. his hands gripped the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles were white, and he let out a shaky breath, his head tilting slightly to give you more access.

you smirked, trailing your lips back up to his cheek, stopping just short of his lips. “you’re so quiet now,” you teased, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his stomach. “no more stuttering?”

“i… i don’t…” jisung panted, his words trailing off as your lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.

“you don’t what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his dazed gaze. his eyes were half-lidded, his face flushed, and his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath.

before he could answer, the sharp buzz of your phone vibrating broke the moment. you blinked, startled, and jisung let out a shaky exhale, his head dropping back against the wall in relief… or frustration.

“hold that thought,” you said, your voice still low as you reached into your pocket. your fingers lingered on his stomach for a moment before you pulled away completely.

jisung watched in a daze as you checked your phone, your lips pressing together. “looks like i’ve got to go,” you said, slipping the device back into your pocket.

“w-what?” he stammered, his voice cracking again as he stared at you in disbelief. “y-you’re leaving?”

“for now,” you said with a wink, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “don’t miss me too much, okay?”

jisung could only nod dumbly, still leaning against the desk like his legs might give out at any moment.

“oh, and jisung?” you added, pausing at the door. he looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours. “you might want to take care of… that.” your gaze flicked downward for just a moment, and his face turned a brilliant shade of red as he scrambled to adjust his shirt.

you laughed, shooting him one last playful smile before disappearing out the door, leaving him flustered, breathless, and utterly unable to think about anything else but how good your lips felt on his skin.

that night, jisung lost count of how many times he jerked off. by the time he was done, he was so spent he didn’t even bother cleaning up properly. he passed out with a mess of cum smeared across his abdomen, his sheets damp and sticking to his skin.

the sound of retching woke him up.

he groaned, squinting as the sunlight poured directly onto his face. blinking sleepily, he turned his head to see haechan standing at the foot of his bed, his face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.

“look at the state of you…” haechan said, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “seriously, dude, your dick’s gonna disintegrate if you keep going like this.”

“get out,” jisung groaned, voice hoarse. he rolled over, pulling the blanket halfway over his head to shield himself from both the sunlight and his roommate’s judgment.

“i would, but i have a message from y/n,”

jisung sat up at the sound of your name. his heart pounding as if he’d been jolted with electricity.

“she said she can’t meet you at the library today…”

jisung froze, the sudden buzz of energy deflating into cold panic. “oh,” he said softly, his voice laced with disappointment.

his mind immediately began spiraling. were you avoiding him? now that you knew he was andy, did you think he was a creep? were you disgusted? did you regret what happened yesterday? every terrible scenario played in his head as he stared blankly ahead, anxiety tightening its grip on his chest.

before he could spiral further, haechan continued, dragging out his words for dramatic effect.

“…she said she wants to meet you somewhere else instead.”

jisung’s head snapped toward him. “what?”

“she said she sent you the address and tried calling, but your phone’s off.”

his eyes darted to the floor where his phone lay facedown. practically leaping out of bed, he stumbled over the blanket, barely managing to stay upright as he grabbed the phone and plugged it into the charger.

“relax, dude. she’s not breaking up with you,” haechan said with a smirk.

“shut up,” jisung muttered, his focus entirely on the phone as it turned back on. when the screen finally lit up, he saw your message waiting for him.

his thumb hovered over it before he opened it. the address you’d sent was for a studio about thirty minutes away from campus. jisung frowned, his mind racing again. why there? what kind of place was it? and more importantly, how was he supposed to get there?

he groaned, already planning how he could convince jeno to lend him his car for the evening. but before he could get too far into his thoughts, he noticed haechan still standing there, arms crossed and a suspicious look on his face.

“what?” jisung asked, narrowing his eyes.

“nothing,” haechan said, but the grin spreading across his face said otherwise. “have fun tonight.”

with a wink, haechan strolled out of the room, leaving jisung standing there, equal parts nervous and excited, as he tried to figure out just what you had planned.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

by the time jisung reached the address you sent, he was soaked through to the bone. his hair sticking to his forehead, dripping rainwater down his face, and his clothes clung to his skin, cold and uncomfortable. jeno had flat-out refused to lend him his car, so jisung had to take the bus. the bus stop was two blocks away, and by the time he’d sprinted there in the pouring rain, his sneakers squelched with every step.

he stood now, breathless and drenched, staring up at the old building in front of him. the windows were grimy, and the exterior had an eerie, almost abandoned feel to it. with a reluctant sigh, he pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the lobby. it was completely quiet. the reception desk was empty, and no one was in sight, so he made his way up the narrow staircase to the third floor.

when he reached the door, his heart was hammering. should he have texted to let you know he was here? was he being too forward? after a beat of hesitation, he knocked, his knuckles tapping softly against the wood.

the door swung open after his third knock.

there you were, looking impossibly beautiful. your pink flowy dress caught the light, the fabric swirling around your legs as you smiled up at him. he’d never seen you wear a dress like that before. your makeup was flawless, more than usual, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat.

"you’re really punctual," you said with a soft smile, stepping aside to let him in.

but jisung didn’t move at first. his eyes scanned the space around him as he took it all in.

“is this…” he breathed in disbelief.

“welcome to collette’s studio.” you patted him lightly on the back, gently pushing him further inside.

“i wanted you to see it,” you continued, walking ahead, your fingers brushing against the smooth white sheets of the bed that dominated the center of the room. you glanced back at him with an expectant look.

jisung felt like he’d been dropped into one of his wet dreams. "i’m…" his words faltered as his senses overloaded, trying to catch up with what was happening.

"in shock?" you giggled softly, the sound light and airy. "you’re the first person i bring here."

"really?" he asked, his backpack slipping off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a soft thud.

“you brought your notes?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

"yeah…" he stammered, feeling foolish now. "aren’t we gonna finish… the project?"

your gaze locked with his as you moved closer, your presence drawing him in. his eyes flicked nervously to the neon sign hanging on the wall.

"hm, we can… or we could do something more fun?" you suggested, your voice a soft temptation. you stepped closer, until there was barely any space between you two.

jisung tried to keep his composure, but his body betrayed him. every inch of him stiffened as you moved into his personal space.

"i have a proposal for you, sungie," you said, your voice lowering, honeyed and sweet. your hand found its way to the back of his neck, your fingers tracing the skin there lightly, coaxing a soft sigh from his lips.

"y-yeah?" he breathed out, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment at the sensation of your touch.

"would you like to guest on my channel?"

jisung’s eyes snapped open, disbelief painting his expression. “what?… y-you mean… do a livestream with you?”

he could barely comprehend what you were saying, his brain scrambling to process the words. "but you… you never do that… it’s always just collette."

you smiled softly, a glint of something mysterious dancing in your eyes. "you’re right, but for a while, i’ve been thinking of changing that. i just never found anyone i trusted enough for it."

jisung’s mind was racing. he couldn’t believe this was happening. you, asking him? how many times had he imagined being in this room, taking you in that very bed? but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he was frozen. what if he wasn’t enough? what if he couldn’t satisfy you like you wanted?

“it’s okay if you don’t want to… it was pretty sudden of me to ask this,” you said, sensing his hesitation. you slowly withdrew your hand from his neck, leaving him cold and wanting more.

jisung panicked. he didn’t want you to think he was rejecting you, but the fear of embarrassing himself in front of not only you but a whole audience gripped him tight. what if he couldn’t live up to your expectations?

but then again, the thought of you finding someone else to do this with made his stomach twist with anxiety. he couldn’t back down now.

with shaky hands, he finally nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "i’ll do it."

“really?” you asked, your voice tinged with genuine surprise. you hadn’t expected him to agree. jisung didn’t exactly strike you as the type to willingly step into the spotlight, let alone in this particular way. this had every potential to go sideways.

but there he was, standing in front of you, his expression a blend of nervousness and determination. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from bolting.

you extended your hand toward him, watching as his gaze flickered down to it. he hesitated, just for a moment, before his much larger hand engulfed yours. his touch was clammy, his grip tentative, but it was enough.

“have you done this before?” you asked, glancing back at him as you led him toward the bed.

he looked utterly petrified, like a deer caught in headlights, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “a livestream, you mean? uh… yeah, i’ve—uh—seen a few… i mean, no! not seen, done! wait, i mean—”

you chuckled softly, cutting off his flustered rambling. “no, silly. i meant… is this your first time having sex?”

your tone was so casual and devoid of any judgment that it caught him completely off guard. his entire face went up in flames. he nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a tight line.

your smile softened, and you stepped closer, placing your hands lightly on his chest. “then, we should practice before turning the camera on, don’t you think?”

he swallowed hard, his lips parting in a nervous attempt to respond, but no words came out. he simply nodded, his breaths shallow and uneven when you pushed him down onto the bed.

you reached for the straps of your dress and slid them off your shoulders, the fabric slipping down your body and pooling at your feet. jisung’s eyes went wide, his lips slightly parted as he stared at you. his gaze flickered nervously, starting at your feet and slowly working its way up, lingering on the delicate white lace of your underwear. he looked like he was on the verge of tearing up.

you moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. the sudden pressure made him suck in a sharp breath, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.

“tell me what you like,” you murmured, leaning in just enough for your lips to ghost over the shell of his ear.

“w-what do you mean?” his voice cracked, and he looked up at you with wide, panicked eyes. his hands were still frozen in place, unsure of what to do, so you gently took them and placed them on your waist.

“you can touch me,” you said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “when you watch my streams… what do you like?”

his whole body tensed, his fingers spreading hesitantly over your waist. he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to look away. “uhm… i-i don’t know… i… i pretty much like everything,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“do you like when i use the toys?” you asked, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

“y-yes,” he breathed, the word coming out shaky and unsteady.

“do you like it more when i lay down or when i sit?” you asked, trailing your hands under the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.

his breath hitched as you motioned for him to stand. he obeyed, his movements clumsy as he pulled off his shirt and hesitated with his pants. his hands trembled as he pushed them down, leaving him standing there in just his boxers, his face burning crimson.

“uhm” he started, his voice cracking. he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor before flicking back to you. “when you sit?”

the second the words left his mouth, you pushed him gently, and he stumbled back onto the bed with a gasp. the flush on his cheeks deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears, as he looked up at you with anticipation.

“good,” you murmured, your fingers trailing along his chest. “then let’s see if you like this more.”

the sight of you straddling his lap made jisung’s throat go dry, his mouth parting slightly as his breath quickened. was this really happening? was he actually about to lose his virginity with the girl he had spent countless nights fantasizing about? every inch of him buzzed with nervous energy, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might actually cry—happy tears, of course, but still tears.

before his mind could spiral further, he felt the soft press of your lips against his. the sensation was so unexpected and overwhelming that he whimpered without meaning to. the sound would’ve embarrassed him any other time, but he was too lost in the moment to care. his lips parted instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss.

your fingers threaded into his hair, massaging his scalp, and a low moan escaped him. the warmth of your touch was intoxicating, but then your hips shifted, brushing against the hardness in his boxers, and jisung gasped into your mouth.

“shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky as his hips jerked up in response, pressing himself against your core. the friction drew a needy, broken moan from you that he immediately wished he could record and replay for the rest of his life. his head fell back slightly, breaking the kiss.

“how does that feel?” you murmured, grinding your hips against him again. “hm?”

“g-good… so… go—” his words trailed off, his eyes snapping open as he caught you unclasping your bra. the sight of you now bare from the waist up making him forget how to breathe.

he’d seen you topless before on your livestreams, but this was something else entirely. now, you were right in front of him, real and tangible. your breasts were perfect, even better than his wildest dreams, and his hands twitched on your hips, desperate to touch but unsure if he even had the right to.

“go ahead,” you said softly, as if you’d read his mind.

jisung hesitated, the thought flashing through his mind: am i even worthy of this? but before doubt could take hold, you grabbed his hands, guiding them to your chest.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling as they cupped the warm, supple flesh. the softness beneath his palms made his head spin, and he instinctively squeezed, earning a quiet hum of approval from you. “so… perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, shyness seeping into his tone.

you smiled at him and leaned in closer, pushing your chest into his hands. his thumbs grazed over your nipples, and you bit your lip, the simple action making his heart feel like it might pound out of his chest.

“you’re doing so well, sungie,” you praised, your words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. he felt his confidence grow just a little, his hands becoming bolder as he continued to touch you, mesmerized by how soft and warm you were.

“c-can i…?” he trailed off, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

“go ahead,” you encouraged, and his mouth descended hesitantly, leaving a tentative kiss on the curve of your breast. the feeling was so new that he couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him.

jisung pressed his lips against your skin again, this time lingering a little longer. he felt the soft rise and fall of your chest beneath him, and it was mesmerizing. the warmth, the way you smelled faintly of vanilla, and the soft sighs you let out as he kissed along the curve of your breast—it was too much for him, and not enough all at once.

you tilted your head back slightly, giving him more room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kissed lower. his tongue darted out, shyly tracing your skin, and he heard you hum in approval. the sound sent a jolt straight through him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours, pressing against your core.

“that’s it, sungie,” you murmured, your voice like velvet, guiding him. “you can touch more if you want. i don’t bite”

the teasing lilt in your voice made his entire face flush, but it also spurred him on. he let one hand wander, sliding up your side hesitantly before it cupped your other breast. his touch was still timid, his thumb brushing over your nipple experimentally. when you gasped softly and your hips shifted against his, jisung nearly lost it.

“does that feel good?” he asked, his voice barely audible, shaky and full of nerves.

“mhmm,” you nodded, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “you’re doing so well.”

the praise made him braver, and he leaned back slightly to look at you. your hair was slightly mussed, your lips parted, and your eyes were hooded as you gazed down at him. you looked like a dream, like something he’d only ever dared to imagine in the privacy of his own room.

jisung’s breath came in shallow pants as he watched you. your skin was soft, and your scent filled his senses, making it impossible for him to think about anything else.

“take these off too,” you murmured, your fingers tugging lightly at the waistband of his boxers.

his entire face burned crimson as he nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric and began to slide them down. his heart was pounding so hard he thought it wasn’t normal, but the thought of stopping never even crossed his mind.

you leaned back just enough to give him room, watching as he pushed the boxers down his hips, his movements awkward and nervous. once he kicked them off completely, he sat there, completely bare before you, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he avoided your gaze.

“hey,” you said softly, reaching out to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you. “don’t be shy. you’re perfect, sungie.”

his eyes widened slightly at your words, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“you’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again. this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, and jisung melted into it, his hands finally moving to rest on your waist.

you shifted in his lap, pressing your core against him, and he gasped into your mouth, his hips jerking up instinctively.

“s-sorry,” he stammered, pulling back slightly, his face a deep shade of red.

“don’t apologize,” you said, brushing your fingers through his hair. “you’re doing so well.”

your praise made his chest swell, and he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies were pressed together.

“touch me more, sungie,” you encouraged, taking his hands and guiding them up your sides, over your ribs, until they were back on your chest.

his fingers trembled as they cupped you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples experimentally. when you let out a soft moan, his confidence grew, and he leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips trailing lower until they found the curve of your breast.

“just like that,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair again as he continued exploring your body.

your hands slid down his back, your nails grazing his skin lightly, and jisung shivered under your touch. his own hands started to roam more boldly, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and finally settling on your ass.

you shifted again, grinding down against him, and he let out a choked moan, his head falling against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck.

“i… i c-can’t help it,” he stuttered, his voice shaky. “you’re… you’re just…”

you smiled, pressing a finger to his lips to hush him. “it’s okay, sungie. just let me take care of you.”

he nodded, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continued to move against him. every touch, every kiss, every sound you made drove him closer to the edge, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.

you leaned back slightly, reaching between your bodies to tug your panties down, and jisung watched with wide eyes as you discarded them. he couldn’t believe this was happening, like any moment he might wake up in his bed, alone and frustrated.

“are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft as you looked at him.

“y-yeah,” he said quickly, nodding. i just can’t believe this is real, he wanted to say but he was scared he’d sound like a loser.

“wait a second,” you said, sliding off his lap, the sudden loss of your weight making jisung let out a soft, involuntary hiss.

his eyes darted down, and he realized—much to his horror—that his dick was now standing proudly at full attention, no longer constrained by his boxers. in his mind, it was almost mocking him, like it was giving him a thumbs-up for finally letting his hand rest after all those nights of longing for you. jisung felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him, and his first instinct was to grab a blanket or pillow to cover himself.

just as he was about to reach for one, his attention was drawn to you. you were bent over by your bedside drawer, rummaging through it with an air of purpose. then, you pulled something out, holding it up for him to see… a shiny silver wrapper.

a condom.

jisung felt like his heart stopped beating for a second as he stared at the little package in your hands. something about seeing it made everything feel impossibly, undeniably real.

“ultrathin… so you can feel everything,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as you turned back toward him.

goodness, she’s gonna kill me. jisung thought, swallowing hard as he swore his dick twitched at your words.

“you’re quite big, sungie…” you mused, crawling back onto the bed with a grace that made his breath hitch. you moved toward him slowly, your eyes dark with intent. the way you approached him reminded him of a lioness stalking her prey.

“let’s see if it fits,” you added, a playful smile on your lips as you straddled his thighs.

jisung was completely frozen, his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched you unwrapping the condom with practiced ease. your hands moved so skillfully, the shiny material glinting faintly in the light. then you paused, looking up at him with a question in your eyes.

“may i?” you asked softly, your voice almost sweet, though your expression held that same predatory confidence.

“y-yeah,” he stammered, the word barely audible as he nodded frantically. in his mind, he was screaming, please, yes, god, yes.

the corner of your mouth quirked up as you leaned forward. your fingers were gentle but firm as you grasped his dick, and jisung couldn’t stop the shuddering gasp that escaped his lips. you slid the condom over him with ease, the mix of precum and the lubricant on the condom making it glide smoothly down his shaft.

it fit perfectly.

“fits you like a glove,” you murmured, your tone teasing as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.

jisung didn’t know what to do. his hands twitched at his sides, his mouth slightly open as he tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.

then, without warning, you slid up his body, settling back onto his lap. the sudden pressure against his dick made him let out a low, shaky moan.

“ready?” you asked, your voice softer now, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned forward.

jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes meeting yours. “y-yeah,” he croaked, his voice cracking slightly.

you lifted yourself slightly, aligning him with your entrance. jisung was trembling under you, his hands gripping the sheets as if holding on for dear life.

"breathe, sungie," you whispered, stroking his chest gently. his wide, panicked eyes met yours, and you smiled softly to reassure him.

he nodded quickly, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. when he exhaled, you sank down just a little, the tip of him slipping inside. his whole body jerked in response, a desperate, broken moan escaping his lips.

“fuck…” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow. his grip on the sheets tightened, his knuckles turning white. the heat, the wetness, the feeling of you was unlike anything he’d ever imagined.

“good?” you asked, tilting your head as you hovered above him, testing his reaction.

“s-so good,” jisung gasped, his voice trembling. “so… tight… warm…”

you couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, but you didn’t tease him. instead, you lowered yourself further, slowly taking him inch by inch. jisung’s breathing grew heavier with every movement, his hips twitching upward involuntarily as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation.

"easy," you murmured, pressing a hand against his chest to still him. "let me take care of you."

jisung nodded dumbly, biting his lip as he tried to stay still. his eyes were fixed on you, watching every little movement you made in adoration.

when you finally took all of him, you let out a soft sigh of relief, adjusting to the stretch. jisung, on the other hand, looked like he was seconds away from imploding.

"you're... you're perfect," he blurted out, his voice breaking with emotion.

you laughed softly, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re pretty perfect yourself, sungie.”

you gave him a moment to catch his breath, your hands gently running up and down his sides to calm him. when you started to move, lifting yourself slowly and sinking back down, his head shot up from the pillow.

“oh my god—” jisung groaned, his hands flying to your hips instinctively. “oh my god, oh my god…”

his grip was unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to hold on tighter or let go. his hips bucked slightly beneath you, and you gasped at the unexpected movement.

"you're doing so well," you encouraged him, your voice breathy but soothing. you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth before nipping at his jaw.

jisung whimpered at the praise, his hands sliding up your sides as he tried to ground himself. his lips found yours again, and this time, he kissed you with a bit more confidence, his tongue shyly seeking yours.

you rolled your hips against him, drawing a strangled moan from deep in his chest. his reactions were so genuine, so raw. it made your heart race just as much as his.

“faster,” he whispered against your lips, surprising both you and himself. his cheeks flushed red immediately after the word left his mouth.

you smiled, pressing your forehead against his as you obliged, picking up the pace. his grip on your hips tightened as he tried to meet your movements, his breaths coming faster and more uneven.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” you asked softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face.

jisung nodded rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body tensed beneath you. “i—i can’t… i can’t hold it,” he stammered, his voice breaking with desperation.

“it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “let go for me, sungie.”

the permission was all he needed. with a choked cry, jisung’s hips jerked upward, and he came harder than he ever thought possible. his whole body trembled as he gripped you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

you held him through it, running your fingers through his hair and whispering soft words of encouragement. when his breathing finally started to slow, you leaned back slightly to look at him.

his face was flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyes glazed over as he tried to process what just happened.

“you okay?” you asked, stroking his cheek gently.

jisung blinked up at you, a dazed but blissful smile spreading across his face. “y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “that was… amazing.”

you laughed softly, leaning down to kiss him again. “you did so well, sungie.”

he blushed at the praise, his hands resting on your thighs as he tried to steady himself. “thank you,” he mumbled shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“don’t thank me yet,” you teased. “we’re just getting started.”

the next day...

“sungie,” you said, your voice soft and slightly breathless. you were sprawled out on your couch, your notes and research scattered across the coffee table, all but forgotten.

“last night’s livestream got the most views i’ve had in months,” you murmured, looking down at him. “they must like you.”

jisung looked up from between your legs, his glasses fogged and slightly crooked on his face. his lips were swollen and glistening with your arousal, his cheeks flushed a deep red.

“really?” he asked, only half-interested. but before you could respond, he dove back down, his eager mouth finding your folds once again.

a sharp gasp left your lips as his tongue traced over you. this was already the second time today he’d eaten you out, and he’d only gotten better since his first attempt this morning.

earlier, you’d guided him through it, patiently showing him what felt good, what didn’t, and how to read the reactions of your body.

jisung’s long tongue worked wonders, licking and teasing in ways that had you gripping the cushions for dear life. when he sucked gently on your clit and flicked his tongue over it in quick succession, your thighs quivered against his head. he took note of the way your hips bucked involuntarily, doubling down on the action and making you cry out.

“you’re such a quick learner,” you panted, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly to spur him on.

he hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. the sound was almost self-satisfied, as though he was proud of the way he had you unraveling beneath him.

the combination of his inexperience and raw enthusiasm was intoxicating. jisung wasn’t just doing this to please you. he genuinely wanted to understand every inch of you, to learn what made you tick and what brought you to the edge.

and he was succeeding.

your thighs clenched around his head, your body arching off the couch as he alternated between languid strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against your most sensitive spot. “s-sungie, oh my god,” you whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening.

he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his glasses messier than ever. “does that mean i’m doing good?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled, and for a second, his shy, eager-to-please demeanor broke through.

you let out a breathless laugh, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately. “you’re doing amazing, baby.”

his lips quirked into a bashful smile before he returned his attention to your core, determined to coax another round of trembling moans from your lips.

jisung park, you thought as you teetered on the edge of bliss, was quickly becoming an overachiever in the best way possible.

“I get why you didn’t want to tell anybody when I was interviewing,” Jisung sighed as you adjusted his tie for him. “But don’t you think everyone’s formed their own opinions about me by now?”

“You told me Mr. Kang called you Joosung yesterday,” you pointed out. “We agreed after your three-month evaluation, remember?”

“That’s next month!”

“Two weeks. December tenth, to be exact, will be three months since you started.”

“I know, I know.” He pulled you closer by your hips, burying his face in your neck. “Thank you.”

You rested one hand on the nape of his neck, the other stroking his hair. “I hate it too. I was in the bathroom yesterday and overheard a couple of the women from budgeting talking about you. Apparently one of them wants to ask you to the holiday party.”

He lifted his head up, squinting with confusion. “Wait, was it Song Minji from budgeting?”

“Yes…”

“Yesterday she asked me if I was going, I said yes, then she asked if I had a date, and I said no, and she said she didn’t either. Then she just stared at me. It was really awkward, so I told her I had to get back to my spreadsheets and walked away.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as your boyfriend continued looking down at you with absolutely endearing confusion. Patting his cheek, you informed him gently, “She was waiting for you to ask her to the party, baby.”

“Well, even if I knew that, I wouldn’t have,” he huffed.

“I know, Sungie,” you kissed his cheek. “I know.”

“Good.”

You glanced at the time on your bedside clock, tapping his arm indicatively. “We’ve got to go.”

“Y/N, someone from bookkeeping will be over to pick these receipts up today,” Mr. Suh, your boss, informed you, setting a large banker box down on the ledge behind your computer monitor.

You nodded. “You sure you don’t want me to just take them over there now?”

Bookkeeping was on the same floor as your team, just on the opposite side of the large office building.

“No, I’ve got six more boxes in my office. They should be coming with a dolly. I’ve got a lunch meeting, then I’m on-site at a build. Can you make sure they get them all?”

“Of course. See you tomorrow, then.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow.” He smiled and reached into your candy bowl, securing a chocolate for himself before heading off towards the elevator.

As you continued working up your reports, another figure approached your desk.

“Hi.” Jisung smiled down at you from over the banker box.

“And what is a bookkeeping gremlin doing over here?” You teased, having already spotted the bright orange dolly next to him. “They let you guys out of your cages?”

“Just me, because I’m on a mission.” He did a little mock salute, making you giggle. He then looked between the dolly and the box. “But I don’t really think this was necessary…”

“There’s six more boxes in Mr. Suh’s office,” you informed him happily, pointing to your boss’ door.

“Oh.”

Two of your team members, Donghyuck and Jeno, congregated around your desk then as well, Jeno zeroing in on your candy bowl as always, and Donghyuck snooping at what you were doing on your screen.

“Boring!” Hyuck declared, hitting CTRL + S on your keyboard to save it for you before exiting out of the program. “Lunchtime!”

“Hey, I was working on that, you know,” you protested, keeping up your usual banter with your work friend.

“Now you’re not,” he shrugged.

“Actually, you were chatting with…” Jeno trailed off, looking at Jisung expectantly.

“Jisung,” your boyfriend filled in.

“—You were chatting with Jisung when we got here,” Jeno finished, popping another chocolate in his mouth and tucking it in his cheek to talk around it. “So you weren’t really working.”

“She was telling me where the other boxes of receipts were,” Jisung explained quickly, gesturing to the dolly. “I’m supposed to pick them up. I’m from bookkeeping.”

Hyuck scanned him from head to toe. “You’re new, right?”

He nodded.

“Come to lunch with us.”

“No, Hyuck,” you snorted, cutting up your food as your coworker attempted to show you a picture of another one of his friends over lunch. “The last asshole you set me up with stood me up, remember?”

“I told you, Jaemin got a stomach bug!” Hyuck insisted. “And that was like, over a year ago!”

You looked at him pointedly. “And he could text you but not me? Think about it.”

“Okay, so he was a flake, but Mark is like, a really good guy!” He elbowed your other coworker next to him. “Jeno, back me up!”

Jeno shrugged. “Eh, he seems like the kind of guy to call you ‘bro’ in bed.”

“Not the kind of back-up I meant!”

“Am I wrong?”

“Why are you thinking about what Mark would call you in bed, Jeno?” You snickered.

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you mimicked him.

Hyuck pushed on in his seemingly never-ending pursuit to set you up with his also never-ending pool of single friends. “Ignore him, Y/N. Will you at least consider? For me? Your bestest friend?”

“I never see you outside of work functions,” you pointed out.

“Please? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?”

“Whatever. Send me his CV,” you said noncommittally, taking a bite of your food.

“On it!”

“Wait, he’s applying for a job?” Jisung finally spoke from his seat beside you, his confusion apparent.

“No, that’s just what they call whatever information Hyuck sends her about the guys he tries to set her up with,” Jeno explained for him. “It ends up being pretty much the same stuff that’s on a résumé, though.”

Hyuck then focused in on a new target. “Jisung, what about you?”

He froze. “What?”

“Are you single?”

“Uhm—”

“Lie if you have to,” you advised. “Once he smells blood, you’re done for.”

“I’m not a shark!” Hyuck took great offense to this comparison. “I’m-I’m like Cupid!”

You let out a derisive laugh at that, stabbing your fork into your food and lifting your next bite to your mouth.

“I’ve got a girlfriend,” Jisung answered hurriedly.

Hyuck narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “So you’re bringing her to the Christmas party.”

“I-I don’t know, we uhm—we just started seeing each other.”

“You’ll bring her to the next monthly mixer, then?”

“I’m pretty sure this is workplace harassment,” you stepped in on Jisung’s behalf, giving Hyuck a disapproving look. “We had a seminar, remember?”

“You’re not curious?”

“No, I don’t care to see you bother poor Jisung for the rest of our fleeting lunch break.”

“Fine, I won’t disturb Y/N’s precious lunch break,” he gave in melodramatically. “But I want to hear about her when we get back to the office, Jisung.”

When you and Jisung got home that evening, you waited until the two of you had gotten out of your work clothes to address the pout on his lips that had been present ever since lunch.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting at your dining table with him.

He started unpacking the to-go food. “Why did you tell Donghyuck to send you that guy’s info?”

“To get him to shut up about it. He would’ve done that for our whole lunch break, Sungie.” You shook your head, watching as he avoided your eyes. “Are you jealous? It’s not like I’m actually going to do anything with it.”

“I know, but I still don’t like that he’s sending you dating résumés, and it’s apparently been a regular thing?”

“Okay, I know we made it sound like it happens all the time,” you agreed. “This is like the third time, including the guy who stood me up last year. When you and I started dating, I told Hyuck not to bother anymore. But then he heard that I wasn’t bringing a date to the holiday party, and he started his little matchmaking thing again. That’s why I never told you, because there never was anything to tell.”

“I’m sorry if it sounded like I was accusing you of something, baby,” Jisung murmured, reaching for your hand over the table.

“Do you want me to block him or something?”

He sighed. “No, of course not.”

“Damn it, I was hoping you’d say yes. I’ve been looking for an excuse for years.”

He finally chuckled at that, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Here.” You brought out your phone and stood behind him, maneuvering your arms around his shoulders so he could see your screen as you opened your texts with Hyuck and started deleting the most recent ones debriefing you on his newest eligible bachelor for you.

“Wait a second.” Jisung stopped you before you could delete all the pictures that Hyuck had sent.

“What?”

To your surprise, your boyfriend actually opened one of the pictures of the guy.

“Jeno was right,” he snorted, closing out of the picture.

“Wh—Oh,” you started laughing. “Yeah, absolutely.”

You finished deleting everything about the guy, then shut your phone off. “All gone. Can’t even remember his name.”

Jisung pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thanks, baby.”

“And I’ll tell Hyuck no more in the future. Sound good?”

“No, maybe it’s for the best. I don’t think you need to be subjected to the interrogation I went through today.” He leaned his head against yours affectionately.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I trust you.”

“Aw, thank you, Sungie.” You kissed his hair then hugged him properly. “I knew that. It was cute to see you get jealous, though.”

“You need to fuck Jisung.” Donghyuck sat on your desk the following Monday, nearly knocking your cup of pens over.

“What happened to hello? How are you?” You blinked up at him incredulously, rescuing your writing utensils and pushing them to a far corner.

“No time, we need to save our new favorite little bookkeeping gremlin.” He quickly saved your project and closed the window on your computer.

“And you think having sex with me is the cure for cancer or something?” You snorted. “They really wasted their money on your slot in that workplace harassment seminar.”

“No, look, he’s in an awful, awful situationship. I know he said she’s his girlfriend at lunch the other day, but he doesn’t have any pictures of her, he didn’t want to show me her social media. He said she probably wouldn’t be able to come to the mixer because of her ‘work schedule’—” Hyuck used finger quotes around the words ‘work schedule’ “—but the way he said, it sounded like he was just preemptively making excuses because he knew she would turn him down. I asked him about their first date, and you want to know his answer?”

“What?” You asked dryly.

“That they don’t really do ‘that stuff!’” More air quotes.

“Okay?”

“Then I asked what stuff they do do, and he turned bright red!”

“So he’s lying about having a girlfriend to get you off his back.”

“Mm, she sounded pretty real.”

“Okay, maybe he’s twisting the truth and he’s got a fuckbuddy and he still doesn’t want you playing matchmaker,” you suggested another alternative. “Either way, you should leave him alone.”

“No, look, I’ve got this all figured out. He needs to be reminded that there’s women other than this girl—”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “How do you have a rotating roster of men to throw at me, but somehow the only woman that comes to mind for your braindead plan is the one in your immediate line of sight? This is confirming my suspicions that you get no bitches, Lee Donghyuck. Have you talked to a single woman other than me and your mother?”

“Listen, it has to be you so nobody catches feelings!”

“So you’re saying I’m unlovable?”

His eyes widened comically as he went to backpedal. “No, of course not! I meant—Jeno, back me up!”

Jeno, who had been silently leaning against the ledge behind your computer monitor this whole time, happily snacking on the red and green Hershey’s kisses in your candy bowl, slowly finished off the one in his mouth before speaking. “Here’s the thing—”

“You condone this?” You scoffed.

He shrugged. “It’s like, his second-worst idea. Marginally better than setting you up with Na Jaemin.”

“Why do I bother asking for your back-up?” Hyuck muttered.

“But he doesn’t think you’re unlovable. He just knows that you’re a professional, and Jisung is still a newbie and works in a different department. So obviously, there’s like no risk of catching feelings if you guys do… Because work, you know?”

You sat back in your chair, glancing between the two of them dubiously. “Do you two think these are normal things to say to people? At work? To your coworker?”

They looked at each other with wide, horrified eyes, beginning to stutter apologetically.

“I’m in,” you declared abruptly, watching their jaws drop. You then focused your next sentence at Hyuck specifically. “If you’ll stop trying to set me up.”

“Done,” he agreed immediately.

Jisung had excitedly told you about the results of his three-month evaluation to you over dinner that evening, and as you two cleaned up after, you relayed your conversation with your coworkers to him.

“I finally got Hyuck to stop setting me up. Permanently,” you announced in a sing-songy voice, drying the last dish Jisung had just handed you before putting it up in the cabinet.

“Really? Did you find out he killed someone or something?” He asked, shaking the water off his hands over the sink before grabbing the towel hanging in front of it to start drying his hands.

“Nope, he just asked me to do something.”

“Oh, and who do you have to kill?”

“Nobody.” You wrapped your arms around his waist from behind him. “You see, he’s very concerned that this ‘girlfriend’ of yours doesn’t like you as much as you like her.”

“I know we’re literally coworkers, but he needs to get a job,” Jisung retorted.

“Why did you say we didn’t go dates when he asked about our first date?”

“I was afraid you might’ve mentioned it before and I didn’t want him to connect the dots if I told the same story.”

“You couldn’t come up with a fake first date? Carnival? Arcade? Dinner?”

“I was panicking!”

“Anyway, he thinks you’re in a toxic situationship, and that the only solution is for me to sleep with you.”

“Wait what?!” His muscles flexed and contracted under your hands with his words, and he seemed almost oblivious as you continued roaming them over his front.

“Because we would never catch feelings for each other, obviously,” you informed him with mocking seriousness, making him scoff.

“I assume you told him to fuck off and stop setting you up anyway?”

“Nope.”

“Huh?”

You finally put a hand under his shirt to touch his bare skin, and he shivered and jerked away instinctively.

“Ah! Cold hands, baby,” he whined, but made no further moves to get away.

“Then let me warm them up, Sungie,” you giggled, pressing your fingers more intentionally against his skin. “Anyway, why would I pass up the perfect opportunity to fuck with Hyuck and fuck my hot boyfriend at the same time?”

“I don’t think I like how similar that phrasing was.”

“Sungie,” you dragged out the last vowel pleadingly.

“So you’ve got a scheme?” He asked knowingly.

“A fun one,” you promised, kissing his neck. “In multiple senses of the word. But it means everyone finding out we’re together a few days later than we planned. Is that okay?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Alright. What’s first?”

“I’ve got to hold up my end of the deal, of course.”

Donghyuck and Jeno were quick to swarm you first thing in the morning. They at least brought you a coffee this time. There was no work up on your computer yet for Hyuck to close out of, so he just made himself at home on top of your papers that were on your desk instead.

“Okay, we need to brainstorm,” Hyuck got right to business as Jeno dug into your candy bowl. Well, not the business you were actually sitting inside of, but his plot. “The holiday party is on Friday. I’m thinking if you start being a little flirty leading up to it, like casual, you know, not too much, that should warm him up.”

“The more planning you put into this, the creepier it gets,” you informed him, taking a sip of your coffee.

The elevator dinged then, and Jisung stepped off, eyes focused on his feet as he hurried off towards the break room. The elevator opened towards your side of the floor, while bookkeeping was on the other side, and the breakroom, storage closet, and copy room were situated at the midpoints on the floor.

“Jisung’s late?” Jeno commented, bewildered. “Didn’t he say he always gets here ten minutes early to make his coffee before everyone else?”

Hyuck looked at this as well, eyes narrowing. He turned back to you and Jeno. “Did you guys see that big hickey on his neck? Now he’s running late and wearing the same tie as yesterday? This is why we need to help him. Anyway—”

You shifted in your seat then, readjusting your blazer so that it ‘accidentally’ pulled your blouse just enough to show off a love bite situated on your collarbone.

Hyuck actually froze in place, staring at you as he short-circuited. Jeno gave you a quiet, short round of applause.

“Damn, you work fast,” he commented.

You looked down at where Hyuck was staring, as if belatedly realizing your mistake, moving your neckline back up to cover it again.

“You really…” Donghyuck trailed off, blinking rapidly as he began rebooting.

You shrugged. “Didn’t want to announce it like we were in a locker room.”

“He’s walking over here,” Jeno coughed under his breath.

And sure enough, Jisung approached your desk. He looked uncertainly at Donghyuck sitting next to you, and ended up standing by Jeno behind the ledge, finally looking you in the eye.

“H-Hi, Y/N,” he stuttered nervously.

“Morning, Jisung,” you greeted him brightly. “Kiss?”

“Huh?!” He squeaked.

“Hershey kiss?” You pointed to the bowl that Jeno was grabbing another candy from. “They’re caramel filled.”

“O-Oh. Sure, thanks.” He took a green one. “S-See you later.”

“Bye.”

With that, Jisung skittered away, back off towards bookkeeping. Hyuck and Jeno both turned to you with wide eyes.

“I’ve made a grave miscalculation,” Hyuck whispered.

“That boy is pussy whipped,” Jeno whistled lowly.

You rolled your eyes at them. “Or maybe you guys were looking at the two of us with flashing ‘I KNOW YOU HAD SEX’ signs over your heads.”

“Oh, did I forget to leave that at home again?” Hyuck replied snidely, mockingly swatting just above his head. He then leaned in to whisper-yell at you, “Do you actually have the cure for cancer in there because what the hell was that?!”

“Good morning, Mr. Suh!” You chirped at your boss as he walked by.

Hyuck sat up straight, saluting to your boss. “Good morning, Mr. Suh!”

“Mornin’, Mr. Suh,” Jeno said through a mouthful of candy.

“Morning, morning, morning,” Mr. Suh greeted each of you in turn, then yawned. “Ugh, is it Friday yet?”

“Not quite, unfortunately,” you chuckled.

At home that night, you were keeled over with laughter on your couch, clutching your stomach as you and Jisung recalled the looks on your coworkers’ faces this morning.

“Who knew you were such a good actor, Sungie?” You choked out through laughter, wiping at your tears.

“I just had to act like I was madly in love with you, that wasn’t acting, baby,” he smiled fondly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. “I’ve had to act every day at work except today.”

“So smooth, Park Jisung,” you giggled, kissing him.

“It’s the truth.”

“I know. You’ve never been smooth, just honest. And I love that about you.”

“Ouch, and also thanks?”

You snickered and kissed his pout. “Ready for tomorrow?”

Stepping off the elevator in the morning, you didn’t spare another glance to Jisung, who had ridden up with you. Typically, you would take separate elevators, one of you waiting for the next one, but today, you broke that rule. You dropped off your purse at your desk before going to the break room and making your usual cup of coffee.

Jeno and Donghyuck were already waiting for you at your desk. You rolled your eyes at them. “You two have your own desks, you know?”

“You and Jisung got here at the same time,” Jeno stated.

“Is there a question in there?” You raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Did you get a new shampoo?” Donghyuck asked, leaning forward to sniff the air around your head.

You swatted at him. “Personal space?”

“That doesn’t smell like a woman’s shampoo…” He went back in for another sniff.

“Quit it, freak!” You rolled away from him.

“What’s happening?” A third voice had joined you all, right on time. Jisung was at your desk, cup of coffee in hand.

“Nothing, Jisung.” You threw on a bright smile, scooting back up to your desk. “What can I do for you?”

“I-I just uhm, I wanted to say good morning. And I brought you some coffee.” He offered the cup out to you.

“Aw, thanks,” you said sincerely, then looked down at your own cup on your desk regretfully. “But I already got some.”

His face fell. “O-Oh. I guess I’ll—”

“Hold on, Jisung!” Donghyuck stopped him from leaving, hopping off your desk. Jisung froze in place as your coworker grabbed his arm. First, he took the coffee from his hand and set it on the ledge behind your monitor, then he grabbed your boyfriend’s collar and yanked him down to take a deep whiff of his hair. Jisung yelped at the rough treatment, arms flailing until Hyuck let him go, giving him a loud slap on the shoulder. “That’s all. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Lunch later?” Jeno offered to him. “All four of us.”

“S-Sure,” he looked at you and blushed before hurrying away.

You crossed your arms as you glared at Hyuck. “You literally just assaulted him.”

“And you—” He pointed at you dramatically, “—slept with him again. That’s his shampoo that I was smelling on you.”

“I think my extracurriculars are none of your business.”

“Mm, Jisung’s more of a co-curricular, don’t you think?”

Jeno snickered.

“I think it’s still none of your business.”

“This wasn’t the plan, Y/N.”

“I did your stupid plan, Hyuck. Why are you so obsessed with Jisung’s sex life? Is it because you’re not getting any?” You taunted.

“Nice attempt to deflect, but the plan was to get him to stop being strung along by that other girl. Not for you to start stringing him along.”

“You make me sound like an evil witch.”

“So you’re serious about Jisung then?” Hyuck gasped mockingly. “Adorable. Gonna be each other’s date to the holiday party? When are you meeting the parents? Have you picked a ring yet?”

You bit down on your lip and looked at your lap to avoid laughing, which he thankfully seemed to interpret as guilt on your part.

“Exactly as I thought,” he said smugly.

“The puppy love thing is cute now, but it’s probably best for working together in the long run to just let him down easy sooner,” Jeno gave some surprisingly wise advice through a half-eaten Hershey’s kiss.

Having composed yourself, you finally let out a contemplative, resigned sigh. “Yeah, you guys are probably right.”

“Always are,” Hyuck tsked.

Lunch was honestly kind of fun—It felt like being a kid with a crush again, sneaking glances at Jisung, trying not to be too obvious about your flirting, and playing innocent when your coworkers would shoot you pointed looks every time Jisung did something totally head-over-heels for you.

Mid-afternoon, and Jisung was back at your desk. He had a few papers in his hand, some flimsy excuse of questions about the receipts he’d picked up last week, but really, you two were just talking. Discussing what to make for dinner, additions to the grocery list, what you were working on, little things.

The sound of a door opening caught your attention, and you looked over to see Mr. Suh coming out of his office. He’d just been on a phone conference, and had his empty coffee mug in his hand.

“Hi, Mr. Suh.” You sat up a little straighter. “Afternoon decaf?”

“Yep.” He lifted the mug in greeting as he walked by, heading for the breakroom.

“I’m going back to my cage with the other bookkeeping gremlins,” Jisung murmured. “Don’t want him to catch me still here when he gets back.”

“Laser beams aren’t going to come out of his eyes and incinerate you on the spot if he does, you know,” you giggled.

“How do you know?” He tapped your desk rhythmically, then mouthed, ‘See you later.’

You mouthed it back, contentedly watching him walk away. You were back to working on your reports when Mr. Suh returned from the break room. He drifted over to your desk, however, standing against the ledge conspiratorially.

“Was that the new kid in bookkeeping?” He asked lightly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, Park Jisung,” you informed him. At your boss’ inquisitive lean forward, you gave a little more context, “He picked up those receipts last week and Hyuck ended up inviting him out for lunch with us.”

“He seems to be over here quite a bit recently.”

“We chitchat sometimes.” You paused, then widened your eyes. “Is that a problem? Nothing’s been late or anything, has it?”

He gave you his usual easy-going smile. “It’s fine, Y/N. Your work has been great as usual.”

“Okay, good.”

“Hi, baby,” Jisung greeted you brightly that evening from your usual meet-up place after work. If neither of you had to stay late, or had an errand to run after work, you would meet up outside a cornerstore a couple blocks away from the office.

“Hi, co-curricular,” you beamed back, leaning into the kiss he was pressing to your cheek.

He pulled away with an adorably confused pout on his face. You laughed, taking his arm in yours as you started down the sidewalks together, relaying your conversation with Hyuck and Jeno this morning.

“I don’t know what’s funnier, the idea of me genuinely ‘stringing you along’ or your new nickname,” you giggled, squeezing his arm.

“You already changed my phone contact, didn’t you?”

“I put a heart next to it!”

“The rumor has spread to bookkeeping, by the way.”

You blinked at him in mock surprise. “You guys have office gossip over there?”

“Yeah, we finally invented the wheel and have time to gossip now,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “Huang Renjun told me he heard Song Minji and Park Chaeyeon talking about it in the copy room.”

“That’s how it breached containment,” you tutted. Chaeyeon was from your department, but you knew she and Minji were office friends. She must have overheard it from your area—Hyuck wasn’t exactly the quietest man you knew, and there was no way your other coworkers hadn’t noticed Jisung’s frequent trips to your desk if Mr. Suh had.

“Uh-huh.”

“What exactly were they saying? Did Renjun tell you?”

“Some stuff he didn’t want to repeat about you—” He cleared his throat. “But mostly, he wanted to ask me what, if anything was true. I felt bad lying, I like Renjun.”

“Yeah, he was my favorite bookkeeping gremlin before you started.”

Jisung elbowed you, obviously offended. “I still did bookkeeping before I worked here! I just did it somewhere else!”

“He was my favorite at this company before you started. Better?”

“Much.” He smiled as you leaned in to kiss his nose. “I told him the rumors weren’t true.”

“That wasn’t a lie!” You reminded him emphatically. “We’re not just coworkers with benefits, or co-curriculars, or recently started secretly dating, or whatever!”

“I’m just glad we only have two more days of this.” He laced his fingers with yours. “I want to be able to have a picture of us on my desk, and talk about you to everyone, and show up and leave together.”

“Me too,” you agreed, fond smile on your lips as you approached your front door. “It’s been fun, but the best part will be when everyone knows you’re mine. For real.”

This was weird. You had been at work for thirty minutes and hadn’t seen nor heard Hyuck or Jeno. Maybe today would be normal for once. As soon as that idea had crossed your mind, they came beelining for your desk, and you knew that would be impossible.

“Good—” You couldn’t even get a friendly greeting out of your mouth, Donghyuck fully sitting on top of your keyboard, entering a bunch of random characters into the email you had been writing. “Uhm, you know, that email to Mr. Suh wasn’t important, actually…”

Yanking your keyboard out from under Hyuck, you deleted the gibberish and saved the draft email before setting it aside to deal with whatever was going on. You looked at your coworkers expectantly.

“Y/N…” Jeno surprisingly took the lead. “How did you go about letting Jisung down easy?”

You blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? I just told him we should keep it professional and not see each other anymore…? And that was it.”

“And how did he take it?”

“Fine?” You glanced between their extremely serious demeanors with increasing worry. “Why? What’s going on?”

“We just had to comfort a crying Jisung in the men’s room for the past thirty minutes, that’s what’s going on!” Hyuck finally hissed. “I don’t think your easy is very easy!”

You leaned away from him in utter shock. That was definitely not part of the plan today, and now you were genuinely worried about why your boyfriend was apparently crying in the men’s room—he definitely wasn’t a good enough actor to do that on the spot.

“Woah, I didn’t—”

“Well, you did.”

“You don’t get to pin all the blame on me here,” you shot back immediately. “Whose stupid fucking plan was it for me to sleep with him in the first place anyway? If I recall, you never found him crying in the bathroom with his last girl that you were so concerned over.”

“You diverted from the plan and he got attached!”

“Okay, it’s everyone’s fault!” Jeno cut in decisively.

“What’s everyone’s fault?” Mr. Suh stopped by your desk, briefcase in hand as he had just gotten into the office. “There’s been an awful lot of whispering going on over here. Something I should know about?”

“No, Mr. Suh!” Hyuck chirped brightly. “Lunch plans fell through, we’re just rescheduling.”

Your boss looked at you skeptically, waiting for confirmation. You nodded hurriedly. “Yeah, lunch plans.”

“Alright.” He shrugged. “There’s a good sandwich place a block over. If you’re looking for recommendations.”

And with that, he went into his office.

Turning back to Hyuck and Jeno, you whispered, “I swear to God, I wasn’t expecting him to be crying. Okay?”

“We’re being a little harsh on you,” Jeno admitted quietly. “We should all just leave Jisung alone, I think.”

He took a candy out of your bowl and departed your desk without another word. Hyuck followed, still shaking his head. You quickly brought your phone out, immediately texting Jisung.

[you: BABY SOS]

He texted back immediately

[co-curricular 🩷: IM HERE]

[co-curricular 🩷: WHAT’S WRONG????]

[you: im fine but are YOU okay?!]

[you: jeno and hyuck told me they found you crying in the bathroom]

[co-curricular 🩷: oh nonono im okay baby i promise]

[co-curricular 🩷: im in the copy room, can you come so i can explain?]

[you: omw]

You hurried from your desk to the copy room, relieved to find it devoid of any coworkers except Jisung, who was attending to a copy machine, placing documents on the glass, closing the lid, and copying them in a steady rhythm.

“Sungie,” you breathed out in relief, darting over to him, needing to see his face for yourself.

“Hey, baby, hey,” he said soothingly, letting you wrap an arm around his waist and lean into him affectionately. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You stepped back, cognizant of the fact that any of your coworkers could enter at any moment. “So what were Hyuck and Jeno talking about then?”

“When we got in this morning, the temperature change from the cold air outside to the heat inside the building was making my eyes water and my nose run,” he explained, gesturing to his face. “I went to take care of it in the bathroom. Donghyuck and Jeno ran into me while I was cleaning myself up and assumed I had been crying. Nothing I said could convince them otherwise, and they of course also assumed it was connected to their advice to you to let me down easy. So I played along. I know it wasn’t part of the plan, but I couldn’t get them to let it go.”

“I was almost feeling bad about lying to them, but they do this to themselves.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall next to his copy machine. Your tone softened as you added, “I’m really happy you’re okay, Sungie.”

“I’m happy you checked on me so quick, baby.” He smiled, taking a step closer to peck your forehead. He lowered his voice to say, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmured, looking up at him, fighting the urge to just grab his suit jacket and kiss him. “Lunch later?”

His nose wrinkled with distaste. “Are Hyuck and Jeno coming too?”

“Just us? At home?”

“Oh?”

“I miss you.”

He nodded. “I miss you too.”

It was finally Friday, finally the day of the office holiday party. You just had to survive work and lay the last couple breadcrumbs, then it would all be over tonight.

You were making your morning cup of coffee in the breakroom with Hyuck and Jeno, and went to engage them in conversation. “Are you guys bringing anyone to the party tonight?”

“Nah.” Hyuck poured his own cup.

“You’re not beating the ‘no bitches’ allegations.” You clicked your tongue.

“I think it’s a bit weird to bring someone you’re not like… properly dating to a work event and introduce them to your coworkers,” Jeno answered, rooting through the employee fridge.

“So that’s a no?”

“Correct,” he mimicked your taunting tone of voice.

Jisung, who had been quietly measuring out sugar into his own cup of coffee at a far counter, apart from your conversation physically but definitely within earshot, inserted himself then, “I’m bringing a date.”

Jeno hit his head on a shelf in the fridge. “Shit—! Huh?”

“You are?!” Hyuck blinked at him, utterly shocked.

You slowly turned around to face Jisung, cocking your head. “Oh, me too.”

“Since when?!” Hyuck snorted.

“Just because I didn’t tell you about it doesn’t mean I haven’t had one,” you hissed.

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Jisung nodded, and you saw the corner of his lips twitch, ever-so-slightly, too small for anybody who didn’t know him as well as you to catch. “Guess I’ll see you and your date tonight, then.”

“Same. You, as well.” You nodded curtly, watching him pivot on his heel and stride out of the breakroom.

“You don’t have a fucking date,” Hyuck stated dryly as soon as he was no longer in eyesight.

“That was hard to watch,” Jeno said, opening a Tupperware of food that definitely had somebody else’s name on it.

“And neither does he,” Hyuck continued, pointing to the doorway that Jisung had disappeared through. “No way he’s found somebody in a day. Unless…” He looked at Jeno with alarm. “Oh no. You don’t think…?”

Jeno squinted. “What?”

“What if he brings his toxic situationship to get back at Y/N?” Hyuck gasped. He then turned to you, “Look, I guess I can see if Mark’s free tonight—”

“No,” you cut him off firmly. “I’ve already got someone in mind.”

“So beautiful, baby,” Jisung murmured, taking one of your hands and kissing your knuckles.

“Hey, I’m trying to fix your tie clip,” you laughed, pulling your hand back from him to continue adjusting his tie clip that had gone askew thanks to his seatbelt.

The two of you were standing outside the venue of the office holiday party. You were fashionably late, as part of the plan. You had to make sure Hyuck and Jeno were already there, so they could see you arrive together, wearing your coordinated outfits. Jisung’s tie was of course a complimentary shade of the color of your dress—not too matchy-matchy like kids at a grade school formal, but clearly together, not accidental.

“There.” You smoothed out the lapels of his suit jacket, smiling up at him. “So handsome.”

He kissed your cheek. “Thank you.”

“Are you ready?”

“More than.” He grinned, lacing his fingers with yours.

Walking in, instrumental Christmas music was playing over the speakers and a steady hum of conversation filled the room. There were a few familiar faces near the front, but nobody you were overly friendly with. You grabbed Jisung’s shoulder for support as you went to talk to him over the din of the crowd. He hunched over slightly to listen to you better, holding you steady with a hand on your hip.

“Want to get a drink first?” You suggested.

“Sure,” he agreed, keeping his hand on your lower back as you moved through the sea of people.

There was a special cocktail for the night, ‘Mistletoe While You Work,’ which you ordered out of curiosity. Once it was in your hand, you took a sip, and you were pleasantly surprised. Not too sweet, and you couldn’t taste the liquor at all.

“Hey, baby,” you smirked, holding your glass up between yours and Jisung’s faces. “Uh-oh, we’re under mistletoe… kinda.”

Jisung laughed, and you put the glass down to watch his face crinkle up and his nose scrunch in all its adorable glory. “Mm, hard to argue with that.”

You were still smiling as you pressed your lips to his in a short but sweet kiss. He kept you close when you broke apart, an arm still wound around your waist.

“Uhm, Merry fucking Christmas to you guys, too,” Hyuck announced himself, standing off to the side, his own drink in hand and Jeno of course with him.

“Oh, hey guys,” you greeted them nonchalantly. “Merry Christmas.”

“What happened to your dates?” Jeno cut right to the chase.

You and Jisung pointed to each other, making nearly identical faces as if you were oblivious to why Jeno and Hyuck were confused.

Hyuck started buffering as he tried to process the situation. “What…?”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you finally put them out of their misery, watching as their jaws dropped simultaneously.

“Since before I interviewed, actually,” your boyfriend added.

“Over a year, to be exact.”

“You guys are sick in the head,” Hyuck jabbed an accusatory finger at you both.

“Who was making a whole convoluted plan for me to sleep with one of our coworkers that you barely knew?” You immediately fired back. “You’re lucky we did this instead of reporting you to HR.”

Jeno quickly threw on a wide smile, clapping Jisung on the shoulder. “You fit in great here, Jisung.”

“Glad to have you on the team.” Hyuck went to hug Jisung, making him stiffen up at the unexpected affection. Your coworker then gestured to both of you, putting a hand over his chest. “You two are so adorable together. What a great couple. I’ve said that from the beginning, right, Jeno?”

“You thought they would’ve had awful chemistry.”

“Would it kill you to back me up for once?” Hyuck turned his ire on your other coworker.

Mr. Suh walked up to the bar then, putting his order in with the bartender before greeting you all. “Ah, hello, everyone. Merry Christmas.”

A chorus of hellos and Merry Christmases rang out in response.

“Was Mr. Suh in on it?” Jeno asked you.

“Whatever ‘it’ was, no, but now I wish I was,” Mr. Suh answered, clearly intrigued by this conversation.

“Y/N and Jisung are dating!” Hyuck immediately tattled, and you rolled your eyes at his childish tone.

“There’s nothing against the rules,” your boss said calmly. Then, he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Especially if the relationship predates one of you working here.”

You and Jisung exchanged a surprised look, making Mr. Suh laugh.

“Okay, I had a hunch, but that was the confirmation I needed,” he chuckled. “When I’d see Jisung at Y/N’s desk alone, I don’t know—you two seemed way more comfortable around each other than two people who had only talked for the first time a week ago. No matter how much you liked each other.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hyuck gawped.

“It didn’t seem like any of my business.”

⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69

Mark’s keys jingle in his hand before he opens the front door, the delicious smell of dinner hitting his nose as soon as he steps foot inside the house. He knows this smell, the spices, the veggies, the sauces. You’re making a roasting — a dish he loves, that you cook very often during winters, because you know it’s one of his favourites. 

He thinks he could kiss you, if only he could find you. Where are you? 

He thinks you’re in the kitchen, but the roast is sitting perfectly inside the oven, the pan with veggies still cooking on the stove on a small flame, and the bowls with sauces and chutneys sitting on the kitchen counter far away from the edge, that you both know your daughter can reach to steal her mom’s delicious chutney — just to eat with her fingers stealthily by herself.

He throws the keys in the bowl by the entrance, finally taking his jacket off. He wanted to see you so badly that he didn’t even bother to do his routine when he came home, immediately going to look for you. 

There’s something odd going on, he thinks, because your daughter is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and she’s usually at the door the moment she hears the jingling of his keys right before he tries to open the door. Not seeing you and your daughter makes him unsettled just a tiny bit, considering there’s the stove that’s still on and he can’t find you.

He drags his slippers on the hardwood floor towards the living room, and his heart skips a bit seeing you looking through the boxes full of Christmas decorations. 

You and Mark love celebrating Christmas, and ever since you two got married you started establishing family traditions. And now you also have your daughter to pass everything on to. You’ve never skipped decorating the house, putting up a tree, Christmas films and singing carols and Christmas songs while baking cookies or cooking meals, and now you have your daughter to join in on the fun. And thankfully, when it comes to Christmas season, she’s just as enthusiastic as both you and Mark — and she’s a big Santa believer.

“Hi, baby,” Mark rasps from behind you, and you flinch, clutching a few Christmas lights to your chest. You turn around to look at him, your eyes big with what Mark thinks is fear by being taken by surprise, and he giggles. “I’m so sorry, did I scare you?” 

You nod, putting the lights down carefully, and then wrapping your arms tightly around him. 

“I didn’t hear your keys at all!” You sigh, your head falling in the crook of his neck. You inhale his scent, and you sigh once again. You always wondered how’s it possible for your husband to always smell so good, even after a busy and tiring work day.

“Maybe that’s why cookie didn’t come running to the door,” he laughs, pinching your back to make you raise your head from his shoulder. You know that’s his silent sign that he wants you to kiss him.

You giggle, grabbing his cheeks and bringing him in for a soft kiss. His lips are soft as always, and his nose feels cold while touching yours. You peck his lips repeatedly a few more times, before letting go of him. 

“I think cookie is upset, that’s why she didn’t come down from her room,” you finally respond, and Mark takes a seat on the armchair between the many boxes full of decorations. 

“Why?” Mark asks worried, and he picks up a few Christmas lights to untangle them.

“She wouldn’t tell me, but I’m guessing she’ll open up when her tummy is full,” you chuckle, and Mark laughs knowing that you’re right. You both know your daughter will forget about what made her so upset after she’ll eat something.

“What colour you wanna make it this year, baby?” He rasps, looking at the different boxes full with Christmas globes, while his fingers are fast at work untangling the strings full of lights. He really liked the white ones, but he knows you’ve always made it work no matter the colour. The year you found out you were having a baby girl you decorated the Christmas tree with soft pink globes and ornaments, and he loved it, even if he’s never thought pink could ever be a fit for Christmas.

You point at the blue ones, various tones of blue filling the huge box, but then you point your finger at the box containing the white ones, his favourites, and you let him know you’re indecisive. Blue is his favourite colour, but he really, really likes the white ones.

“You can choose what-” you’re interrupted by someone trying the front door handle, and Mark looks worried towards the from door, his neck lurching in its direction immediately.

Both you and Mark see your daughter wearing her warm hello kitty hat, open jacket around her small figure and her pink backpack hanging off her shoulders.

“Cookie? Where are you going?” Mark asks, still stretching his neck to look towards the front door. 

Thank god Mark has the habit of locking the door as soon as he comes home. 

“Bye bye mommy!” She blurts out, “Bye bye daddy!” She tries the door handle once again, but the door doesn’t open, so she’s left standing helpless in front of it.

Mark throws you a look, just to find you already looking back at him. You both look at her, and she doesn’t move for ten good seconds, before she turns around with tears in her eyes. 

You both know not to panic, knowing that your daughter can be a little drama queen sometimes.

“Bye bye mommy and daddy? Where are you off to?” He asks her, seeing as she’s still standing there.

“The North Pole,” she explains, her voice trembling a bit.

“The North Pole?” You ask, and you and Mark look at each other once again. He raises his eyebrows at you, asking you what’s going on, but unfortunately for him, you don’t have any idea either. “That’s where Santa lives,”

“Yes,” she blurts out, tears streaming down her puffy cheeks, “I’m bringing him my letter,” 

“Your letter? But it’s too early, cookie,” Mark intervenes, and it’s one of those times he doesn’t know where this conversation is going — and one of those very few times when he doesn’t know what’s going on inside his daughter’s head.

“It’s not! Yuka and Soo already sent theirs!” She speaks clearly this time, but she’s still full of rage, you can see it in her big expressive eyes, that she took from Mark.

It all clicks in your and Mark’s heads. It’s not the first time your four year old is influenced by her kindergarten friends, and it doesn’t matter how many times you and Mark tried telling her that she doesn’t have to do what everyone else is doing, she’s still a four year old child at the end of the day.

“Cookie, but you’re not Yuka, or Soo!” You explain, preparing your big Christmas traditions speech, hoping for Mark to jump in at some point, because she always listens to him and understands things best when he’s the one doing the explaining, or nagging. Even though the nagging part is almost never happening, coming from him.

“Mommy’s right, cookie,” Mark moves a bit in his seat, making eye contact with her, “We didn’t even set the tree up! We send the letter to Santa when we’re done with the tree here,” he points at the spot where you usually put the tree up. “But if you want to go to Santa’s house you can go, we’ll see you in January,”

She stays still for a bit, before she registers what her dad just said. 

“January? But Christmas is in December!” She freaks out, eyes already brimming with tears. 

“Yes, but Santa lives far away, by the time you'll come back me and mommy will have the tree already put back in the box,” he talks to her like he would to a grown up, and that’s what you love about Mark. 

He’s such a good father, he always treats her as a human first, and child second. He’ll try to explain to her why some things are good, why some things are bad, he always challenges her development and skills by treating her like a grown up. You and Mark always encourage her to speak her mind, express her feelings and what’s going on inside her mind, to tell you all her worries and fears. As a writer, Mark always challenges her imagination and creativity, making her come up with stories and all sorts of plots that he sometimes uses in his own books, discussing things with her like he would with his editor.

 And most importantly, as parents, you always work hard to make her understand that she doesn’t have to do everything her friends do. She’s still a baby, your baby, but neither you nor Mark would ever forgive yourselves if you knew something happened to her because you weren’t cautious enough and good parents.

“So you better go now, if you want to reach his house before Christmas,” Mark encourages, falsely busying himself with the Christmas lights in his lap. 

“But I can’t miss Christmas!” She throws a fit, panicking at the same time. She looks desperately at you, asking for help, but you know better than crossing Mark’s words and tactics. Parenting 101.

“Maybe you should wait a bit, cookie,” Mark turns to her once again, “Mommy is making some roasting, you should bring a bit to Santa as well, as a gift,”

“We have roasting?” She freaks out once again. The idea of missing the sauce and chutney brings her to the breaking point, and hearing her father instructing her to leave soon makes her cry immediately. 

She starts sobbing, unconsoled and alone in the entry hallway, holding her white teddy bear, Sugar, tightly. Your heart breaks for her, but you know she needs to learn not to sneak out of the house in the future, and to always come to you or Mark if she needs help.

“Why are you crying?” Mark asks, finally putting the lights away, still as tangled as before. “Come to daddy, cookie,” he instructs, opening his arms, and the crying girl launches towards him.

The moment she feels her daddy engulfing her in a warm embrace, she starts sobbing uncontrollably, holding his grey sweater tight in her small fist.  He pats her back, kissing her forehead trying to comfort her.

“I don’t wanna go!” She screams, snot already reaching her mouth, and between screams she licks her lips. You try your best to hold your laugh in, not wanting to distress her even more, but you know you and Mark will have the best talk later tonight after putting her to bed.

“Then you don’t have to go, cookie,” you reassure her, crouching down at Mark’s feet to get a better view of your daughter. “But what were you thinking? Sneaking out without telling me and daddy?” 

“Sorry,” she sobs, feeling ashamed. 

“Daddy will help you with the letter, but we always do it after the tree is up, yeah?” He reassures her, “Let’s do things the good way, cookie, the way we usually do, not the way others tell us to do, alright?”

“So you didn’t forget?” She whispers, fearing her father’s response. 

“Forget writing to Santa? Never!” He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand, scoffing, all while looking at you. “Daddy will help you, like I always do!”

She stops crying, already sweating from wearing the big fluffy hat on her head, and Mark takes it off immediately, smoothing her hair with his gentle touch.

“Can daddy see the letter you wrote?” Mark pats her on the back to have her attention, gesture that’s the equivalent of the pinch he gives you when he wants your attention.

She separates herself from her daddy, sniffing briefly before reaching behind herself for her backpack. She takes a crumpled piece of paper out, handing it to Mark, who opens it so you can see as well.

Vertical, horizontal lines fill the otherwise blank page, only god knows what she meant when she wrote them. There are a few drawings at the bottom of the page, made hurriedly — you and Mark both recognise she hurried and wasn’t as careful as she usually is, desperate to finish it fast and leave to personally take it to Santa’s. A cat, a bunny, a bike, a few princesses scattered around, wearing all sorts of coloured gowns.

You and Mark already know what to get her for Christmas, but writing the letter for her will give you the confirmation of her wishes. You already smile thinking of Mark’s pretty handwriting filling the flimsy page.

“Can we watch the Grinch, daddy?” You daughter asks, licking the snot above her lip away. 

You look at Mark, who’s already looking at you, and he makes a small movement with his head, pointing towards the kitchen, clearly giving you a way out before it’s too late. You’re very lucky to have your daughter obsessed with your husband, and you’re even more lucky to have a patient husband who loves your daughter incredibly much, she’s his whole world. 

You take the opportunity to leave them alone, going back to the kitchen to keep an eye on the roasting and the veggies still cooking slowly on the stove, hearing your daughter from the other room, and how she’s chewing her daddy’s ears off talking about scenes from the Grinch. 

And Mark, poor soul, he has to sit on the couch with his little girl, watching the cartoon as if he hasn’t already watched it thirty thousand times. He knows the jokes, the lines, it’s like he wrote the thing himself. And he wonders how his little girl doesn’t get tired of it, ever.

“Personally,” Hyuck says, throwing his hands up confidently, “I think I’d last the longest. Strong willpower and all that, you know?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, swatting him with a light smack on the back of the head. “No, you wouldn’t. You can’t go five minutes without emptying your balls, slut.”

Hyuck growls, winding up to smack him on the back, but he stops short as you stroll into the living room, a few cans of beer balanced in your hands. You drop them onto the coffee table with a loud thud, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

“What are you idiots arguing about now?”

This was how every Friday night hangout went with your boyfriend and his friends. Laughter, drinks, and memories in the making—until Hyuck and Renjun would start bickering. Hyuck started it every time on purpose, and without fail, your boyfriend would take the bait, falling right into his trap.

And when you say fall right in, you mean it. They’re so wrapped up in each other’s throats that neither even acknowledge your question. You turn to Jisung, who shrugs and mutters something about No Nut November. Your mouth drops open in an “oh.”

“I’m just saying, I’d last the longest out of all you boys,” Hyuck insists, crossing his arms lazily.

“Bullshit!”

Hyuck’s brows knit together. “Oh, so you think you could last longer, Junnie?”

“Without question,” Renjun scoffs. “I’d last longer than you in every single way.”

Hyuck scowls. And perhaps it’s the double meaning in Renjun’s words that has him snapping, or just his overall general competitive streak, but all of a sudden he has no interest in dropping this argument or backing down. 

“Are you challenging me, Huang Renjun?”

Renjun grins, leaning forward. “I mean, if you’re asking…”

You can’t believe Renjun is even entertaining the idea. No Nut November is stupid on a good day, let alone when someone has a girlfriend, you think. But it’s downright laughable when that someone happens to be your boyfriend—and the two of you go at it like rabbits.

Hyuck smirks, his gaze flickering from you to your boyfriend with a glint of mischief. “Oh, I’m definitely asking. Let’s see,” he drawls, leaning back with an exaggerated grin. “Which one of us can last the longest this month, loser owes the other $1000?”

“Done.”

You stare at Renjun, your mouth slightly ajar. “Done?” you echo, your tone fuming. He doesn’t even flinch, too busy locking eyes with Hyuck like it’s some weird standoff: men and their egos. 

“Renjun,” you say, sharper now, catching his attention. His eyes flicker over to you, and for a split second, you think he might come to his senses. “You’re my boyfriend. My boyfriend,” you emphasise. “You just basically agreed to not have sex with me for an entire month.”

“Well technically, you can have sex but he just can’t cum—”

“Not now, Jisung!” You snap. 

Hyuck bursts out laughing, clapping his hands like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all year. “Oh, I sooo have this in the bag,” he cackles. “And Renjun, you can’t take it back now. We shook on it—well, metaphorically. I have witnesses.” 

Renjun pales slightly, glancing between you and Hyuck. “I—uh—” he stammers, but Hyuck cuts him off, wagging a finger mockingly. 

“Nope! Rules are rules, Junnie. You’re in this now…unless you wanna forfeit—”

“No!”

You cross your arms, fixing Renjun with a glare. “So, let me get this straight. You’re really going to prioritise this over your girlfriend?”

“It’s not like that!” Renjun says quickly, looking genuinely panicked now. “It’s just—Hyuck started it!”

“Hyuck started it?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your excuse? Are we in middle school?”

“No–baby–I–” Renjun stutters. “I just—You know what he’s like. He’d never let me hear the end of it if I said no.”

“Oh, I still won’t,” Hyuck chimes in, grinning ear to ear. “Because there’s no way you’re making it through this, Junnie. Not when your girl looks like that.” Hyuck gestures toward you with a smirk, clearly enjoying every second of this.

Renjun glares at him, a growl of anger leaving his lips, but you’re quick to interject. “So you’re risking $1,000 and pausing our entire sex life for a month—because you can’t handle Hyuck’s teasing?”

Renjun winces. “When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”

“That’s because it is bad,” you shoot back. “What are you even trying to prove? That you have more self-control than Hyuck? Congratulations, Renjun. Everyone already knows that.”

Hyuck gasps, feigning offence by clutching his fists to his chest. “Wow, Y/N. You wound me.”

“I’m sure you’ll live,” you retort dryly because he’s pissed you off just as much.

Renjun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s just a month. It’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?” you cut him off. “You do realise this affects me too, right?” You throw your hands up, standing to your feet. “Fine. You know what? Do whatever you want. But if you even think about caving, just remember—you’ll owe Hyuck $1,000 and me an apology.”

With that, you grab your beer and stomp out of the living room, leaving Renjun to stew. Hyuck leans back, grinning smugly before turning to Jisung. “I give him three days.”

Jisung nods thoughtfully. “I’m thinking two.”

Renjun manages to last two weeks without cumming—a new record since the two of you started dating, though it’s hardly an accomplishment. When your girlfriend is mad at you, it’s easy not to cum—mainly because you weren’t offering.

You weren’t outright ignoring him, but your usual affection had taken a sharp nosedive. No lingering kisses, no teasing touches, no late-night “accidental” brushes under the covers. It was like you’d put him on lockdown—and, annoyingly, he was thankful for it.

That pissed you off even more.

Here you were, trying to make a point, and Renjun was treating it like some kind of twisted blessing. He wasn’t sulking, wasn’t apologising profusely like he usually would. Instead, he seemed…relieved, like your passive-aggressive cold shoulder was doing him a favour.

It especially pissed you off one night when Renjun came back from dance practice, his shirt clinging to his torso, sweat beading on his forehead, and his eyes glazed over in exhaustion. Usually, when he came home like that—when it wasn’t No Nut November—you’d order takeout, settle on the sofa, and have lazy couch sex, no effort, no stress.

But not tonight.

No, because it is No Nut November and he agreed to it. So instead of collapsing into your arms, he takes himself upstairs, barely sparing you a glance, getting straight in the shower and tossing on a pair of grey sweatpants—torture, you think—and sits himself down in front of his PC, clicking at the keyboard as he logs online

He. Pisses. You. Off.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you snap, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him as he spins his chair around to face you on the bed.

He raises an eyebrow, pulling his headphones off and letting them hang loosely around his neck. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t miss me touching you, do you?” 

“Baby,” he starts, his voice low and soft, “That’s not true—”

“Really?” You tilt your head. “Because it sure feels true.”

Renjun runs a hand through his hair. “I do miss you. I miss you a lot, okay? But you’re mad at me, and I know I deserve it...so I wanted to give you space.”

You shake your head, “That feels oddly convenient.”

“I promise you it’s not,” he sighs, cautiously sliding closer. “How about this… is there anything I can do to at least try and make it up to you?”

You arched an eyebrow. “That depends. Are you planning on sticking to this ridiculous bet?”

He hesitates, and you can practically see the war waging in his head. “...Hyuck will never let me live it down if I back out,” he admits sheepishly.

You groan, sinking back against the headboard. “You’re actually unbelievable.”

Renjun doesn’t make a move to comfort you, doesn’t try to touch or reach for you. He knows you’re pissed, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to drop this stupid fucking bet. His eyes flicker to you for a split second, and even though you're giving him nothing but cold, angry silence, he can’t help but think how fucking cute you look when you're this worked up.

You’re absolutely right to be mad. He’s an idiot. He misses you so much, misses your lips, your touch, your smile. 

Fuck, he feels his resolve starting to crack, and so he spins around in his chair, putting all his attention back on his game and not on your pretty little pout. His fingers hit the keyboard aggressively. And although his eyes stay glued to the screen, he can feel the heat of your stare drilling into the back of his head.

Unbelievable, you think.

He’s really doing this. Pretending like he doesn’t care that you're right there, seething and beautiful and willing. You can see the tension in his shoulders, how his jaw tightens whenever he thinks you’re not looking. He needs this, needs you but he won’t let himself because he’s been in a dick swinging competition with Lee Donghyuck since he met him. 

It pisses you off—at first. But then the anger twists into something darker, bolder. Maybe it’s the frustration of going a week without him, or maybe it’s just the pure, unfiltered horniness. Either way, your patience snaps. 

You didn’t agree to this no-orgasms-for-a-month bullshit. You had nothing to lose. You didn’t need to punish yourself. 

If Renjun won’t help you, fine. You’ll just have to take care of it yourself.

The thought is intoxicating, and once it’s in your head, there’s no shaking it. You shift against the headboard, eyes locked on his back. He’s been insufferable, sure, but the memory of him coming home sweaty and dishevelled—so fucking hot—has you pent up.

Your fingers brush your lips, and you can almost feel his again. Wet. Hungry. God, you’ve missed stumbling into bed together, tugging at his clothes and fighting for breath. You’ve missed the warmth of his body, and Renjun was always warm; the way he feels against you—scorching, consuming, addictive. He’s practically a fire hazard for your senses.

Your hand trails down, teasing over your chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric as you imagine it’s his touch. He could be doing this—should be doing this—but he won’t. Because you both know it wouldn’t stop there.

You let out a slow breath, the ache between your thighs growing more unbearable with every passing second. It’s the closest you’ve been to sex for the past two weeks and still, Renjun hasn’t looked at you once, his focus stubbornly locked on his stupid game. 

The memory of him murmuring “Look, it’s just a month,” as he ran a hand through his hair flashes through your mind, and it makes you want to scream. He had no idea how badly you’d need him, how badly you’d miss him, and how much it would hurt when he started pulling away. Or maybe he did and perhaps he was being selfish. 

But that’s okay, because you were about to do your own version of self-indulgence. 

Your hands drift to your thighs, nails raking lightly against your skin as you glare at his back. He hasn’t even flinched, acting like he can’t feel the fire you’re staring into his hair. 

You start slow—fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties, the warmth pooling low in your stomach making you shiver. You bite your lip as you press down harder, a sharp pang of pleasure hitting you as you add a small amount of pressure. The thought of him watching, of him finally snapping and turning around, sends a thrill straight through you. But he doesn’t move. 

You want him to move. 

You try parting your lips with a quiet sigh to get his attention—hands still teasing yourself, slipping under the waistband of your underwear. You know exactly how to touch yourself, how to work your body into a frenzy. But it’s not enough—it’s never enough—not when you know how much better it feels when it’s him.

When he still doesn’t look, your last ounce of patience snaps. Fine, if he wants to ignore you, you’ll make damn sure he can’t.

Your hand moves to the nightstand, yanking open the drawer with just enough force to make it rattle. You grab the vibrator—the vibrator, the one he’d bought you for your birthday with that smug little grin, saying he wanted to “make things interesting.” Well, you plan on making tonight very interesting.

This isn’t for fun. This is revenge, pure and simple.

You lean back against the headboard, spreading your legs just enough to get comfortable, the cool air hitting your heated skin. Your thumb presses the button, and the low buzz fills the room, cutting through the quiet. It’s barely louder than a whisper, but it’s enough to make Renjun’s fingers pause mid-keystroke, his entire body going still.

Good.

You don’t even look at him. Not yet. Instead, you drag the toy against your inner thigh, a soft moan slipping past your lips, breathy and deliberate, as you let your head fall back, eyes fluttering shut.

And then, just like you planned, he turns. And when he sees you—legs spread, vibrator in hand—his eyes go impossibly wide.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

You hum softly, dragging the toy up your thigh with evil slowness. Your lips part with a quiet gasp, and his breath hitches audibly. “I’m watering the plants. What does it look like I’m doing!?”

“Y/N,” he tries again, this time more forceful, his eyes shooting to the ceiling as he takes a long deep breath. His hand clenches the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “I’m serious. Turn that off.”

You finally meet his gaze, expression dripping with mock innocence as you scoff. “Why? I never agreed to No Nut November. I can entertain myself all I like.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. You can see the panic flickering in his eyes, the video game in the background long abandoned flashing with the ‘respawn’ screen as a flush creeps up his neck. You can tell he is desperately trying to hold onto whatever self-control he has left. So far, No Nut November had been surprisingly easy for him—mostly because you’d been at each other’s throats all week. But now? With you looking like this? He’s fucked.

“Y/N, I mean it,” he warns, his voice shaky. His gaze darts to the vibrator in your hand, then to the way your legs are spread, and then back to your face. You can tell he’s trying not to look, but his resolve is cracking with every passing second.

You shake your head, biting your lip as you trace the toy over your clothed clit. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. You don’t miss the way his hand twitches like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you as you whimper. 

“You know…you could always just look away,” you say with a shrug, your tone light, teasing. “Unless, of course, you like watching.”

His eyes snap to yours, panic flashing behind them, but there’s no hiding the way his chest is rising and falling faster now. The blush staining his cheeks deepens as he shifts again, and your eyes drop—just for a second—to the bulge straining against his pants.

Like you said, those grey sweatpants are torture and you can see everything. It only spurs you on to pull your panties to the side and run the buzzing toy between your slick wet folds. The first real contact has you gasping, your back arching slightly against the headboard, and Renjun visibly twitches in his chair.

“Y/N, I’m warning you,” he tries again, but his voice is shaky, almost pleading.

“Warning me?” You echo. “What are you gonna do, huh? It’s not like you can do anything. You’re just gonna sit there and play your game while I get myself off because of a stupid dumb bet.”

His hand flexes against the armrest, his breathing ragged now, and you know you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

“Go on,” you taunt, your voice dropping lower, dripping with mockery. “Prove how much self-control you have. Or…” You trail off, letting another soft moan spill from your lips, your eyes locked on his. “You can always give up that stupid bet and come help me.”

Renjun moves before he can stop himself, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he stands. His body betrays his mind, the bulge in his sweats unmistakable as he strides toward you, breath shallow with desperation. 

Fuck the bet. Fuck Hyuck. He just wants to fuck you. 

“Alright, fine,” he growls, “You’ve made your point. Just—just stop, let me—”

But before he can close the distance, before he can even get a touch of what he’s been missing, you press your foot firmly against his chest, halting him mid-step. His eyes widen, lips parting as he gasps, completely caught off guard by the sudden force of it. For a long moment, he stands frozen, confused.

“Hmmm, I’ve changed my mind,” you say in a low voice. “You don’t get to make the rules and then break them the second you get hard. Sit. Back. Down.”

“Y/N,” he whines, the sound ragged and desperate. His hands hover around you like he doesn’t know whether to push forward or pull back. “I thought—”

You simply smirk, leaning back into the headboard with an air of defiance, your leg still pressed against his chest, keeping him in place and giving him a perfect view of your open-spread legs. The vibrator hums between your thighs, and you can feel his gaze searing into you, his eyes flicking down to where it rests beneath your wet soaked panties.

Fucking torture.

You drag the vibrator over yourself with steady, careful motions, breath hitching as you lean into the sensation (slightly making a show of it to tease him further). “You wanted to prove you could last, didn’t you? Prove it. Watch me.” You purr. 

He groans, his head tilting back as his hands curl into tight fists, helpless and frustrated. “You’re fucking cruel,” he mutters, his voice strained, barely keeping it together.

“Am I?” you tease, your words laced with finger-licking venom. “You’ve been avoiding me for days, Renjun. Ignoring me, turning your back, all for a stupid bet with Hyuck? Now you get to feel exactly how I’ve felt.”

His jaw clenches as his hips shift, the fabric of his sweats doing nothing to hide his need. His eyes lock on yours, pleading, his chest rising and falling with erratic breaths. “Y/N, please.”

“Please what?” you taunt. “Please stop? Please let you touch me?” You press the vibrator harder against yourself, letting out a loud, shaky moan, and his knees nearly buckle as you continue, your smirk growing as you watch him unravel. 

His body trembles, a curse escaping him as he sinks back into the chair, defeated and desperate, fighting the urge to touch you, to do something, anything. Renjun’s never felt a tightness in his body like this before. His muscles are tense, every inch of him on fire, but it’s not the good kind of heat—it’s raw and painful, like his body’s been caught in a vice that won’t let go. His breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps, every shift only intensifying the ache. The throb is relentless. 

"Y/N, please," he whines desperately, the plea barely a whisper, but you hear it. He looks so broken, so beautiful, eyes fluttering closed as he tries to regain some shred of control. 

You smirk at his desperate pleas, the sound making your heart race faster. You’ve never seen him this far gone for you, and knowing you've been the one to drive him to the edge like this—it’s a rush.

You spread your legs even wider, the cool air of the room hitting you and you moan as you pull your panties down and toss them aside. He stares at you—eyes wide, face flushed, lips parted—as you slide your fingers between your slick folds. You’re so wet already, so hot, and all it takes is the combination of cool air and the vibrator on your clit to have you soaring. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes fluttering as you arch against the toy in your hand. “God, I’m so close.”

He groans in response, hips shifting against the chair as he fights the urge to move, his body desperate for friction, for any kind of touch.

“Y/N, please,” he tries again, voice so thick with need. “Let me help. Please. Let me—”

You press harder, your entire body starting to tingle as you drive yourself closer to the edge. His own hips roll desperately, and you wonder how close he is too. He doesn’t even need a hand, it seems. His body’s already learning to react without stimulation—and it would be his own fault for blue balling himself for two weeks. The thought of it almost sends you over the edge, but you want to draw this out a bit longer.

“Nope,” you grunt, breathy moans escaping you as your hand speeds up. “No touching.”

His breath hitches. “Fuck, you’re so fucking cruel,” he pants, his body writhing in the chair. His face is flushed, eyes wild, and you can tell he's not far from losing it completely.

You smirk. “And you’re so fucking desperate,” you reply. “So close, aren’t you? And I haven’t even touched you.”

He nods, his hips rolling desperately as he clutches the edge of the chair, knuckles going white with tension. You can almost feel the ache in his body as he strains against himself, fighting against his own needs.

Your eyes flick to where his sweats are straining and you let out a small whimper at the sight. God, he’s so big, and you can practically imagine him thrusting against you, his cock sliding in deep with a rough, possessive motion. Fuck you’ve missed that. You gasp, your body clenching around nothing, and you swear you can feel his touch on you, all over, everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“God,” you whisper, your hand moving the toy faster against your clit. “God, fuck—Renjun,” your voice breaks on his name, “Fuck, I’m close.”

His hips snap forward, his back bowing against the chair. “Oh fuck,” he moans, his eyes wide as they stare straight into yours. “Fuck, baby. So pretty—”

You cum with a sharp cry, your hand spasming against yourself as your body trembles through the orgasm. Renjun watches—desperate and hungry—for every second of it, just the sound of your orgasm sending his own body to the edge.

“God, yes,” he groans, eyes closing with a harsh curse. “Fuck, yes. Y/N, fuck, yes.”

You open your eyes to see him bucking in the chair, his body shaking as he stares at you—wide-eyed and panting. You watch his cum spill into his sweatpants, creating a dark, damp stain that makes your chest swell with satisfaction.

Your gaze stays locked on him—your body still twitching as your own orgasm fades—and a slow smile spreads across your face as you realise he came untouched, from just watching.

Your boyfriend sits frozen, completely caught off guard, his eyes staring blankly at his lap, cum stain splattered over his sweats. He blinks rapidly as he struggles to form coherent thoughts, his mind a mess. A long, long moment passes, and then he lets out an awkward cough, eyes darting around the room in search of an escape. There’s none. He’s just cum all over himself and can’t even blame it on someone else.

He looks mortified.

You bite your lip, a mischievous smile tugging on your face. “I’m sure Hyuck’s gonna love this.”

“Hyuck isn’t finding out,” he groans. 

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oh, he will. You made a bet about not cumming for a month, and well…”

Renjun growls low in his throat, rising up and crawling onto the bed. “Exactly. I made a bet with him, and if I’m gonna lose $1,000, I might as well fuck my girlfriend properly, and cum inside her, and tell him that’s how I lost, since you wanna be such a fucking tease.”

You smile as he hovers over you, a challenging gleam in your eyes. “Oh yeah? Is that a threat?”

“drinks!” doyoung waltzed into the room, balancing a platter. the ice in the elegant glasses clinked, colorful beverages shining in the sun falling through the huge window. 

johnny put down a bowl of chips. 

“ah, i’ve been waiting for that” yuta hummed like a purring cat and snatched the drink the second doyoung placed them down. 

“and an orange juice for a special lady” jaehyun appeared in front of you and handed you the glass. it had ice and a paper umbrella in it, a slice of lemon adorning the edge. 

you sent him a soft smile, puckering your lips in a pout. that’s a habit you developed ever since your pregnant belly started being too restrictive. it was a sign for ‘i wanna kiss you but i can’t move’

he leaned closer and planted a sweet kiss on your lips, knowing what you meant. 

“i wanna drink too…” you joked, pouting like a kicked puppy. 

“one more month baby” jaehyun said softly, sending you a reassuring smile. 

the evening went on, chatting and joking accompanied by the football match they were watching. 

you were slowly dozing off, partly paying attention to what they were saying. 

“y/n is almost as round as the ball now, look!” donghyuck giggled and your eyes snapped open at the mention of your name. 

“i wonder if your belly if bigger than a ball… i’d say it’s rather a basketball size, huh?” jungwoo pondered. 

a bitter pang overtook your heart. you know they didn’t mean it to sound rude but you couldn’t help but wonder if you’re really that… big… and round… and apparently so easy to target, too. 

jaehyun caught your unfazed expression and clicked his tongue. 

“you remind me of a ball too. your fuckass big head–“ he joked at haechan and everyone laughed, including you. 

and when you went to the bathroom, you missed jaehyun taking the youngest to the side. 

“do we have everything, baby?” your husband asked, pushing the cart. you looked at your notes, not even halfway checked. 

“we barely entered the mart” you grunted and looked up at him. his dimples poked in a boyish smile. 

“anything you’re craving right now, misses” he teased and you rolled your eyes. 

you may or may have not sneaked some of your pregnancy cravings into the cart but you didn’t think he’d notice. 

“shut up. it’s our girl, not me” you huffed dramatically and wrapped your hands around his arm. 

suddenly, a pretty girl appeared in the aisle. she had long, silky blonde hair and was wearing a really cute outfit. it displayed her long legs and the crop top she was wearing exposed her flat stomach. her face was perfect, makeup glowing like a model. 

you sulked upon seeing her figure. you missed your old body. you missed being able to walk around in outfits like these. hell, even fitting in jeans was out of your reach now. 

you realized that when she passed you by, jaehyun turned his head to look at her. 

wave of sadness washed over you, slowly letting go of his arm. you didn’t blame him, though. you were nothing compared to her. big belly, no makeup, hair in a normal ponytail. you haven’t dressed up in a while – and even if you did, you wouldn’t look like you would before. 

“i don’t feel too good. i’ll go back to the car” you mumbled, feeling like crying. you wanted to hide from the world… from your own husband. 

jaehyun’s features dropped in instant worry, turning to you.

“are you okay? i’ll drive you home. do you need to see a doctor?” he asked, panic in his voice. 

“i’m… no, i’m fine! just finish the shopping, ill wait in the car” you grunted and gave him your phone with the list, turning around on your heel. 

he has never ran enough a grocery shop so fast in his entire life. 

after almost sprinting to the car and loading the bags, he hopped in and scanned your face in search of pain. there was always a risk of you giving birth sooner than expected so he was just extremely cautious. 

he noticed your swollen eyes and wet tears. maybe it was just the hormones, it’s not like you haven’t cried before because he just killed a fly. (“what if that fly was pregnant too? what if it was a working father? what if–”) 

he started the car and reached out to grab your hand. you just played with his fingers to ease your nerves, a silent drive home. 

for the past two days jaehyun had a feeling that you were avoiding him. you’ve been either sleeping all day or hiding away in your bedroom. 

at the end of the day jaehyun decided to talk to you. but upon walking into the room, he saw you sitting at the edge of the bed. your loose shirt was slightly up, your fingers tracking red stretch marks on the side of your stomach. 

“hey baby, what’s up?” he hummed, walking up to you “we haven’t talked in a while, hm? everything okay?” 

you sighed and just pulled the shirt down, covering your belly completely. 

“look at me pretty, come on” he was starting to get worried. kneeling down to settle between your looks, he noticed your teary eyes.  

“i just feel so gross, you know?” you mumbled, gently rubbing your tummy. jaehyun sighed softly, relieved to hear that you’re not in physical pain. he put one of his hands on your knee, rubbing it in a soothing motion “like i know it’s inevitable but everyone keeps making comments and… and i just miss my old body. it may never be the same… and… it’s just dumb”

“don’t listen to haechan, he’s still a kid. he doesn’t know what he’s talking about” jaehyun said, trying to ease the tension 

“i saw the way you looked at the girl, in the store” you mumbled, lips quivering. he furrowed his brows and realization hit him like a ton of bricks. but before he could explain, you went on “and i get it, i’m so ugly now, i don’t even dress up. i can’t even put anything else than sweatpants… and don’t even mention heels. i get you.”

“oh honey… she had a cute outfit, that’s why i looked. i think you have a similar top, by the way. but also, i agree, i turned my head but… her face seemed familiar. you know that it was johnny’s ex?”

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. the cute dimple smile painted his cheeks as he nodded.

“yeah. i just, i don’t know, was so shocked it was her so i just turned around. but not to check her out or anything. because you are–” he started.

“wait, the one with a foot fetish?!” you asked suddenly. 

jaehyun snorted loudly, hanging his head low. and here he was about to be romantic.

“yeah, her” he snickered and looked back up “but my point is, i only have my eyes on you. we both knew that pregnancy will change your body and i admire you so much. you’re so strong. and just know that, whether or not you will go back to your shape… the stretch marks will stay… will grow old and wrinkled… i will love you. those things don’t matter to me”

you shook your head and pulled the shirt over your face, something you did when too embarrassed to cry. and you did, small sobs choking out from under the material.

“you look beautiful to me. you’re carrying our baby girl and you really glow, to me” jaehyun said and stood up, hands going to rest on your shoulders.

“i love you” you cried and put your shirt down only to wrap your hands around his waist and sob into his shirt. he rubbed your skin in a calming way. 

“i love you more, pretty girl” he whispered into your hair.

after you’ve calmed down he helped you lay down and tucked you in. jaehyun laid down next to you and rested his head on his hand, adoring you with a soft smile.

“got it? you’re the prettiest” he hummed and placed a soft kiss on your lips. then, his hand sneaked to lift your shirt a bit.

he traced the red stretch marks with a feather-light touch and then put his hand gently on your belly. he felt small movements and warm feeling spilled over his heart.

“and i bet she’ll be equally beautiful, my little dandelion” your husband whispered softly. and you couldn’t help but grin, looking at his whipped state.

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