꒰ꕤ꒱

according to the reviews, the neo orgasm clinic has surpassed people’s expectations in every possible way. not just with how sleek their setup is or their promise of discretion but also — the donors themselves. effortlessly attractive. professional. patient. skilled in ways that leave clients lingering in their reviews, revealing just enough to make your ears burn.

and you know damn well you needed it.

twenty-something now and you’ve mastered the art of dodging real-life conversations about your sex life. it’s easy to laugh it off or pretend you know what your friends are talking about because in some way, you kind of do? i mean, you’ve read all about it! in books, in fanfictions. in fact, all the knowledge you have about sex probably comes from reading about it.

when it comes to real life though? you stall. every time — no awkward firsts. no impulsive decisions. not even quiet attempts on your own. just you, untouched and curious, stuck somewhere between knowing and experiencing.

the coupon’s tagline stares back at you, catching your eye for what feels like the hundredth time:

make your fantasies come true. book now. you deserve it.

you let out a quiet breath. because it’s not just the words. it’s the timing. the way it landed in your life like a question you’ve been avoiding finally demanding an answer.

you’ve already imagined it all — the rush of sensation you’ve only ever read about.

what would it feel like to finally chase that lust for real?

before you could second guess yourself, you pull up the clinic’s website on your laptop. you read through sections you pretend you’re only skimming. policies. confidentiality. client care.

then you take a huge breath before finally convincing yourself to click the appointment section.

✚ BOOK NOW ✚

“it’s just booking,” you murmur, under your breath, like saying it out loud will make it less real.

step 1: medical verification – a form requesting a recent full panel STI test within the last month.

your brows knit slightly. weirdly enough, even though you were an extra virgin, you had just gotten a recent check up — it was like another sign from the universe to continue on.

you upload your medical form with ease. the next page loads and your breath catches at the list.

step 2: sexual preferences & boundaries – check all acts you’re open to exploring with your donor. this does not guarantee they will occur. your donor will review and operate within your boundaries at all times.

your fingers tighten around your mouse, each click of a checkmark making your ears burn brighter than ever. your cursor moves. hesitates. selects. unselects. then selects again.

☑️ blowjob

☑️ clitoral stimulation

☑️ domination

☑️ dirty talk

☑️ fingering

☑️ guidance

☑️ hand job

☑️ kissing

☑️ masturbation

☑️ nipple play

☑️ oral

☑️ praise

☑️ vaginal penetration

you look at your final list. pretty tame considering you passed over more vulgar options like choking, spanking, vaginal fisting, threesome, toys, etc.

but even then, your list is still intimidating for a virgin.

step 3: why are you booking this appointment?

a blank box appears. you stare at it longer than you expected to. because suddenly — this feels personal. you compose your thoughts before finally typing:

“i’ve spent years lost in books about intimacy, learning every detail from pages that make my heart race. but i’ve never experienced it. no touches. no real connections. not even with myself. just endless curiosity and a longing to feel what i’ve only imagine. i’m hoping this can help me turn fantasy into something real. i want to finally awaken that part of me, guided by someone who knows what they’re doing.

you hit enter, the text saving with a soft confirmation.

step 4: choose your donor.

this should be the easiest part. you tell yourself that. just scrolling. just looking. just choosing the boy you imagine in all your books. nothing serious.

profiles load one by one. each polished. each composed. carefully written descriptions.

you scroll and scroll until —

jung jaehyun. the most valuable donor.

his photo catches your attention — handsome, sharp features, an inviting smile and dark hair falling just so. your pulse stutters and almost instinctively, you click on him.

his reviews were endless:

“jaehyun does a great job at adjusting to whatever you want!”

“if you’re nervous, choose him. gentle yet commanding, and the praise? leaves you floating.”

“he’s so pretty to look at and god…that voice…i was wet way before he even touched me.”

“jaehyun made me feel so special…incredibly patient, nothing felt rushed, it was perfect.”

“he lowkey broke my back but i would do it again”

“'he made my first time feel like a dream i didn't know i needed. so attentive. pure magic.”

“fuckkkkkkkkk, can everyone cancel their appointments with him so i can take all the days?”

“too. fucking. good.”

“if it's your first time in this clinic, or your first time in general, booking jaehyun is a guaranteed good time. 127/10 will cum again.”

every single one felt like a magnetic pull and before you could even realize what you were doing. you were inserting the coupon code and clicking BOOK NOW.

Neo Orgasm Clinic Consultation: CONFIRMED

Donor: Jaehyun Jung

Date of Consultation: April 30, 2026

you stare at the screen, heart pounding, because it’s done. there’s no undoing it now.

✚ THE CONSULTATION ✚

the days leading up to today had been a blur of restless nights. you’ve checked the booking confirmation a dozen times just to check if it was real or if you somehow imagined the whole thing.

and now you’re here, heart hammering as you push through the doors.

the lobby envelops you immediately, a curated haven designed to soothe. soft golden light spills throughout the room, cream colored walls that were easy on the eyes, plush armchairs in neutral tones and the subtle scent of lavender and eucalyptus. everything about it is calming, grounding, whispering relax with every breath you take.

but even then, your feet feel rooted to the spot, nerves twisting into knots. you have half the mind to turn and flee before anyone notices. but a voice calls out softly from the reception desk, smooth and reassuring.

“welcome to the clinic.”

you look up to see the receptionist, johnny, his nametag reads. he was sitting behind a computer, flashing you a warm smile as if he can sense the storm inside you. even he was handsome, and you’re pretty sure you saw his profile on the website with the words the first donor.

“you feeling nervous?,” he adds.

you try to laugh it off as you make your way over to him, but it comes out shaky, a breathy sound that betrays you, “y-yeah, this is new for me.”

he nods, no judgment in the motion. just understanding, “it’s new for a lot of people, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

his words ease the tightness in your chest just a little bit.

“what’s your name?” he asks next.

“y/n l/n,” you manage, voice steadier now.

he types it in with a few clicks, his screen reflecting in his eyes as he pulls up your file.

“alright ms. y/n, donor jaehyun will be out in a few minutes,” he says, that smile returning, soft and encouraging, “in the meantime, please review your file then click agree if everything is okay. your consent is required for everything.”

he hands you a tablet carefully – the screen already glowing with your details. you take it with trembling fingers, murmuring a thank you as you retreat to one of the chairs. sinking into the cushions.

your thumb hovers over the agree button, ears burning red, pulse racing so loud you fear johnny could hear it. with a deep inhale, you finally tap it, the screen flashing with the words:

welcome to neo orgasm clinic.

you don’t know how many times you read it before the door to the right side of johnny opens and out steps the most valuable donor.

jung jaehyun.

he’s taller than you expected, his frame filling the space effortlessly, handsome in a way that steals your breath, his casual soft grey polo making him look softer than his large frame, while his dark hair falls slightly tousled, angling his face perfectly.

his pictures don’t do him justice. you’ve never seen a man more beautiful.

and the realization crashes over you, twisting your nerves into something sharper. you feel so nervous you think you might throw up, hands clammy against the tablet.

he makes his way over to you with unhurried steps.

“good afternoon,” he says, and fuck, those reviews were right. he’s only said two words and his voice, deep and smooth, has got you hooked. so hooked that you don’t even reply, just staring at him, mouth dry, brain short-circuiting under the weight of his proximity.

he tilts his head slightly, a smile tugging at his lips, amused, like he’s trying to hide his laugh but the deep dimples carving into his cheeks give him away completely.

“are you ms. y/n?” he asks, fully smiling at you now, the expression lighting up his features and making your heart stutter.

you clear your throat, the sound awkward and too loud in the quiet lobby, “uhm–yeah, that’s me, sorry mr. jung…i’m so nervous i think i might pass out,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, heat flooding your face.

his eyes widen a bit at that, concern threading through, softening his gaze into something genuinely caring.

“c’mon, let’s get you some water,” he says, holding his hand out to you.

you hesitate for a split second, then place your hand in his, the warmth of his skin against yours making you even more nervous. he gives a gentle squeeze, just enough to guide and lead you towards one of the consultation rooms.

the door opens into another pocket of calm – neutral tones, a comfortable couch facing a low coffee table, an armchair across it and a small side table with a pitcher of water and glasses.

jaehyun releases your hand once you’re inside, gesturing for you to sit on the couch as he pours a glass of water for you. he hands it to you with another one of those dimpled smile, settling into the armchair across from you.

“take your time,” he says, sitting comfortably, the tablet now in his hands, “we can talk through everything at your pace. no rush.” his eyes meet yours patiently, waiting for you to find your footing in this new reality.

you sip the water slowly, the cool liquid steadying the flutter in your chest as you sink deeper into the couch, focusing instead on the vase of roses in the middle of the coffee table.

jaehyun sits across from you, his posture relaxed yet attentive. he’s scrolling through your file, his expression neutral, professional, but not cold. he’s taking way longer to read it than one should and you can tell he’s letting you get used to the space. to let the initial shock of his presence and this whole thing reside a bit.

minutes pass like that until he sets the tablet aside, looking up slowly, his gaze catching on the way you’re biting your lip, a nervous habit you can’t quite shake.

“y/n,” he calls out your name, softly, like the two of you are just friends catching up over coffee. the informality of it disarms you, pulling the air from the room into something warmer.

“i know this can be nerve-wracking,” he continues, his voice a low, reassuring hum, “are you sure you’re ready for this?”

he’s gentle. so gentle. it catches you off guard. you look at him, surprised. you were sure he was here to convince you to go through with it — after all, this is still a business. but…there’s no sales pitch in his tone.

“what?” you say, the word slipping out softer than intended, laced with confusion.

he just smiles at you, that dimpled curve returning patient and unforced.

“there’s no proper timeline to these kinds of things,” he explains, his words measured, like he’s sharing a quiet truth rather than reciting policy, “it’s your body. your life. your choice when you’re ready.”

you take his words in, letting them settle over the whirlwind in your mind, easing the knot of anxiety that's been building since you stepped through the clinic's doors.

“i-i am ready,” you admit, your voice gaining a touch of steadiness as you meet his eyes, “it’s just i…don't really know how to start this conversation.”

he nods, his expression shifting to one of quiet understanding. it’s as if he's seen this hesitation before, not as a hurdle to overcome, but as a natural part of the path.

“that’s okay,” he replies, his tone encouraging without pressure, “starting can be the hardest part. maybe we begin with what brought you here? your file mentions this is your first time exploring sex…what made you decide now?”

you hesitate for a moment. jaehyun’s eyes remain steady on yours like a quiet invitation to share as much or as little as you want.

“it was…a gift,” you start, “for my birthday…but i have been curious for a while…i just always held back. books and stories were enough,” you pause, glancing down at your hands, now folded in your lap, “but turning another year older made me realize i don’t want to just keep reading about it.”

“that takes real courage,” he says softly, “turning those stories into something real isn’t simple, especially when they’ve been your safe space for so long.”

his words land gently, validating the swirl of emotions you’ve kept bottled up and a faint smile creeps onto your lips, the first genuine once since you arrive.

“it does feel like the right time,” you reply, your voice steadier not, “the clinic’s reviews…and yours specifically…made it seem less intimidating. like it could be empowering instead of overwhelming.”

he smiles in return, “i’m honored that came through— our goal is to always create that sense of empowerment, no judgments, just support as you explore at your own rhythm.”

he glances briefly at the tablet in his hands, then sets it aside, focusing fully on you.

“it sounds to me like you’re interested in a gentle introduction without rushing into anything too intense. is that right? or has anything changed since filling out the form?”

you pause, letting his words sink in.

“no…that sounds right—i want to be taught, guided through it all, so i can experience every bit i’ve imagined.”

a subtle smile curves his lips, warm and knowing, as if he’s heard echoes of your words from others but savors the uniqueness in yours.

“i can definitely do that for you,” he replies, leaning forward a just a fraction, “i’ll guide you step by step, help you feel every sensation you’ve read about…all you have to do is show up.”

you nod slowly, every second gets more real than the last.

“would you like to proceed with booking your session?” jaehyun asks, a reassuring smile on his face. like it was okay and totally not a waste of his time if you chose not to.

“yes,” you nod after a while, “i would like to proceed.”

jaehyun’s eyes light up with a quiet approval, “perfect,” he says, his smile deepening, revealing those dimples that you can’t stop noticing, “how does may 3 work for you?”

may 3. just two days away. this is it – the threshold between fantasy and reality. it’s now or never.

“sounds good,” you say, your voice gaining a quiet strength, sealing the choice with a steady exhale.

“okay y/n, i’ll see you in two days,” he says, his voice carrying a subtle promise laced with the kind of steadiness that eases the last knots of doubt in your stomach.

and for the first time, the stories feel like previews to your own unfolding chapter, and you’re ready to turn the page.

Neo Orgasm Clinic Session: CONFIRMED

Client: Y/N L/N

Donor: Jaehyun Jung

Date of Session: May 3, 2026

✚ THE APPOINTMENT ✚

you enter the lobby right on time, not a second too early and not a second too late. you’ve chosen comfort over anything flashy, dressed in slightly oversized grey sweats and an off the shoulder sweater hoping that it would make this feel more casual and not some grand event.

johnny greets you, “perfect timing, ms. y/n you can go ahead to the private rooms, jaehyun’s waiting for you in suite 14.”

you thank him, letting your feet carry you step by step, each one making your heart race wildly in your chest.

as suite 14 gets closer, it hits you then – you never once asked what to expect behind the door. no details on the setup. the realization sends a fresh wave of uncertainty but before it can pull you back, the door swings open.

and there’s jaehyun. looking every bit as handsome as before, except this time he looked like comfort—with the simple white t-shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and chest, paired with plaid pajama pants that hang low on his hips, making this feel like a lazy sunday rather than clinical encounters.

“hey y/n,” his dimples flash like a secret shared just for you, “come on in,” he says, tone warm and inviting, stepping aside to make space.

you return the smile, feeling the edges of your tension soften under the casual welcome.

you scan the room quickly — it was nothing like you imagined at all. just an average comfy bedroom, the kind you’d sink into after a long day. there’s a king sized bed draped in white sheets piled with soft pillows, a full length mirror tucked in the corner, plush carpet that muffled your steps and sultry music currently playing from somewhere.

the only thing that stands out, adding a layer of unexpected sweetness, are the vases brimming with fresh roses scattered throughout the room – on the nightstand, the dresser, the table against the wall – shades of deep red and soft pink, like a boyfriend had orchestrated this as a surprise for a quiet night in with his partner. it’s intimate, thoughtful and it tugs at something soft in your chest, making the space feel less like a session room and more like a private haven.

“you didn’t have a hard time getting here, did you?” jaehyun asks, his voice low as he closes the door behind you with a soft click.

he lingers there for a moment, watching you from behind as you take it all in, his shoulder lightly propped against the wall, giving you that space to breathe.

you turn toward his voice, “this is not what i expected at all,” you blurt, the words spilling out, “and no, i got here really easily.”

he smiles softly, the expression crinkling the corners of his eyes as he pushes off the wall and takes a measured step towards you.

“do you like it? i noticed you were looking at the roses during our last meet up…thought it would help.”

you nod, a warmth blooming in your chest — god, he’s perfect. like the best romantic lead stepping straight out of your favorite book, all effortless charm and quiet insight.

“yeah…roses are my favorite.”

he nods in return, closing the distance with another step, his presence pulling you in without force.

“i didn’t think you’d notice,” you add.

he hums thoughtfully, “of course i noticed.”

duh, you think — that’s part of his job, being this attentive, tuning into every little detail about his client. you just weren’t aware he was already taking that many notes. plus the way he talks to you doesn’t make it feel like this was just his job.

he takes another step closer, the air between you thickening just a touch.

“i’m sure you already read the terms and conditions over and over,” he teases lightly, like you two were in on some inside joke because he knows your love for reading, “but just a quick reminder – nothing happens without your consent and we can stop whenever you want.”

he’s so close now that you can feel the subtle heat radiating from his body. he leans down, bringing his gaze level with yours, those deep brown eyes locking in with gentle intensity.

“are we clear on that?” he asks softly, and you catch the fresh mint on his breath, clean and inviting.

you bite your lip, nodding up and down, the motion automatic as your heart races.

“i’m gonna need words, love,” he says so casually, the endearment rolling off his tongue like it’s the most natural thing and — oh my godddd, this is really the start of your own fanfiction.

“yes,” you manage, your voice steadier than you feel, “i know the rules.”

he brings his hand up then, palm open and inviting. you hesitate for just a heartbeat before slipping your hand into his, the warmth of his skin enveloping yours in a gentle grip that feels surprisingly reassuring.

he starts guiding you deeper into the room, his steps slow and unhurried. you thought he was heading straight for the bed like the next inevitable step in this unfolding scene. but when you walk right past it, your brows furrow, glancing up at him, confusion flickering across your face.

he catches your look and offers a small, knowing smile, releasing your hand only to lower himself against the side of the bed with casual ease. then he pats the space right in front of him, between his outstretched legs.

“are we gonna do it on the floor?” the question tumbles out – this isn’t how you pictured your first time to go. not when there’s a perfectly inviting bed just inches away.

he shakes his head, the motion gentle but firm, “no, not yet…come on,” he says, his voice light with encouragement, “i don’t bite,” he adds, the tease curling at the edges of his words, drawing a reluctant chuckle from you.

you finally take your seat, sliding into the space between jaehyun’s legs on the soft carpet.

as you settle, you realize the full-length mirror is positioned directly in front of you, reflecting the two of you in this intimate arrangement.

his hands find your shoulders then, fingers pressing in with a deliberate slowness, starting to massage the tension there in firm, circular motions that coax the stiffness from your muscles.

he pulls you back toward him gradually, giving you time to adjust, until your back completely melts against his chest, the solid warmth of him grounding you. the fabric of his white t-shirt brushes your skin where your sweater has slipped and you can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your spine.

“relax, baby,” he murmurs, right by your ear, his breath warm and even, “you have to trust me for this to work.”

before you can respond, he lands a soft kiss just below your earlobe, the light press of his lips sending a shiver racing down your neck, making you hold your breath as goosebumps rise throughout your skin.

“you said you wanted to be taught,” he continues, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you, “and i’m here to teach.”

you exhale shakily, leaning into him a fraction more, the scent of his clean soap mingling with the faint floral notes from the roses. it’s overwhelming in the best way – his body a solid wall of warmth behind you, the mirror capturing every subtle shift.

his fingers pause on your arms, then one hand lifts gently to turn your head softly toward him like he’s handling something precious. he tilts your chin up, eyes locking into yours, dark and intent but softened by that reassuring smile.

“have you ever kissed anyone?”

you nod, the admission slipping out shyly, “a couple times…but…i was drunk each time.”

heat creeps up your cheeks but his expression doesn’t shift to judgment. he just nods in understanding, thumb brushing once along your jawline.

“just follow my lead, okay?”

the words are simple and before you can overthink it, he’s leaning in, closing the small distance to press his lips to yours, starting with slow, innocent pecks. each one is light, testing, feather-soft. your eyes flutter shut, the only thing in your mind is the warmth of his mouth.

then he deepens it, his lips sucking gently on yours, a little pull on the bottom one, then the top, drawing out the contact so each kiss lingers. the rhythm shifts, more deliberate, and when his tongue traces along the seam of your lips, memories from all those books flood back – the cues, the surrender.

you part your mouth open for him instinctively, inviting him in and he takes it with a low hum of approval that resonates against your chest. he tastes like toothpaste and vanilla chapstick and you're slowly coming to realize how kissing is so much better when you’re not just reading about it.

your hand lifts on its own, fingers threading into the soft strands of his hair at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly in this awkward angle but enough to pull him closer.

the hand on your jaw moves then, trailing down your side with deliberate slowness, fingertips grazing the hem of your sweater before dipping beneath, skimming the bare skin of your waist.

he breaks the kiss off abruptly, both of you panting for air, his lips tingling and swollen. you wonder if yours matches his.

“arm’s up,” he instructs, voice roughened at the edges. you follow without question. he tugs the sweater up and off in one smooth motion, setting it aside and leaving you in your bra and sweats.

“look at you,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending another shiver through you. his chin settles over your shoulder giving you no choice but to stare ahead at the mirror. your reflection stares back — your face flushed pink, lips matching his, eyes wide with a mix of nerves and building heat.

his fingers move to the clasp of your bra, unbuckling it with a quick, practiced flick that loosens the straps instantly. he slides the fabric down your arms slowly, letting it drop to the carpet beside your sweater, the cool air hitting your bare skin and making your nipples harden immediately.

you watch your chest rise and fall in quick pants, each breath pulling your breasts up and down, the motion exposing the rush of heat flooding your body, the tangle of nerves twisting in your gut, the raw shyness of being this naked in front of someone else for the first time.

before you can completely shy away, his hands are right there again, palms flattening against your stomach, fingers splaying wide as he holds you steady against his chest, pressing just enough to remind you he’s in control.

“beautiful,” he whispers right into your ear, his breath hot and steady, and you can feel his gaze locked on your reflection, taking in every inch of you like he’s memorizing it.

then he reaches for one of your hands, his grip loose but insistent as he drags it upward, guiding your palm to cup your own breast, your fingers brushing the curve tentatively at first.

“touch yourself.”

his voice drops to a commanding timbre, low and rough. you hesitate for a split second, heart hammering, but the way he looks at you urges you on — your fingers curl slightly, squeezing the soft flesh, thumb grazing over your nipple experimentally. it hardens further under your touch, a spark of unfamiliar pleasure shooting through you, making you hold your breath.

he watches in the mirror, his free hand now inching lower toward your waistband, but he doesn’t push yet.

“just like that, pretty girl,” he encourages, voice softening just a touch, lips pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“squeeze a little harder — roll your nipple between your fingers. tell me what it does to you.”

your fingers tighten as instructed, the pressure sending a fresh wave of heat blooming across your skin, shooting straight down to your core, making your pussy clench emptily. the sensation is raw and new, like your body’s been holding back this fire until now.

“f-feels good,” you admit, your voice shaky and breathy, barely above a whisper.

“yeah, it makes you wanna moan, doesn’t it?” he teases, that small, playful smirk curling his lips, softening his commanding presence just a fraction, making him seem even more intoxicating.

you bite your lip hard, the sting grounding you as you nod, cheeks burning hotter than before.

“well, go on, let me hear those pretty sounds,” he urges, his tone dipping lower, his breath warm against your neck.

hesitation locks your throat, the idea of letting go like that in front of him feeling too exposed, too soon.

he senses it and without a word, one of his hands slides up from your stomach to take over your breast. his palm cups it fully, larger and rougher than your own touch, his thumb flicking your nipple up and down in quick, deliberate strokes.

the friction builds fast, a teasing rhythm that pulls a tiny, breathy moan from your lips before you can swallow it back, the soft sound betraying you completely, echoing in the quiet room. your head falls back against his chest at the rush of it, leaving you dizzy and wanting more.

“wanna feel even better?” he whispers, his voice a low rumble right by your ear, lips grazing the lobe as his other hand lingers at your waist, fingers hooking lightly into the band of your sweats.

all you can manage is a breathless, “please,” your body already arching subtly toward whatever comes next.

he doesn’t make you wait. his hands move with sure intent, tugging your sweats down your hips in one fluid pull, lifting your feet one by one to slide them off completely. they join the pile on the carpet, leaving you in just your underwear now — the thin cotton clinging damply between your thighs, the wet spot at the center impossible to ignore.

he reaches down and parts your legs wide, knees bending and lifting toward the ceiling like he’s opening you up for display. the view in the mirror is obscene and intimate, your bare breasts heaving with each pant, legs splayed shamelessly, his arms bracketing you like a frame.

his hands settle on your inner thighs, palms hot and steady, thumbs tracing lazy circles that inch closer to your core without touching yet, letting the anticipation coil tighter.

“look at how wet you are already,” he murmurs, nuzzling your neck as one hand drifts upward again to knead your breast, keeping that slow, rolling pressure on your nipple,

“now…,” he grabs one of your hands, sliding it down your body and stopping at the edge of your panties.

“i want you to use these fingers,” he taps on your pointer and middle finger, “—and rub yourself over your panties for me.”

his eyes meet yours in the reflection, dark with hunger but still holding back, waiting for you to follow.

your hand trembles slightly, finger hesitating at the edge of your underwear before dipping lower. you press two fingers against the damp fabric right over your clit, the cotton already soaked and clinging to your folds.

the first rub is testing, a slow circle that presses the material against your sensitive nub, a breathy moan escaping your lips – soft and needy, like a sigh you couldn’t hold back.

“that’s it,” he praises, his breath hot against your ear, watching intently as your fingers move, “just like that — feel how wet you are? circle it, press a little harder, figure out what makes you feel good.”

you obey, adding pressure as your fingers glide in tighter loops, the friction building heat that makes your hips twitch involuntarily. another moans slips out, a little louder this time, hitching as the sensation coils tighter in your belly, your pussy throbbing under the teasing barrier.

“good girl,” he whispers, leaving trails of kisses down your neck, “see how your body responds? you’re soaking right through — rub faster now, up and down.”

both of his hands are on your thighs now, his touch roaming.

your fingers continue to slide up and down the length of your pussy lips, the drag pulling a series of soft moans from you — each one higher, more desperate as the pressure mounts.

“mmm…oh,” you gasp when you hit a certain spot, your head lolling back against his shoulder.

“that's the spot – keep it there,” he chuckles slowly, the vibration rumbling through his chest into your back, “you’re doing so well…how does it feel?”

“s-so good,” you breathe out, voice shaky, as you continue rubbing over your clit, your free hand clutching at his arm for support.

“such a quick learner,” he murmurs, his hand trailing up your panties teasingly.

his fingers gently stop yours, wrapping around your wrist with a firm but careful hold as he guides your hand away from your core. you let out a quiet moan in protest but it’s cut off when he speaks again, voice low and steady.

“you’re ready for more.”

then he hooks into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your thighs in one smooth motion, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. the fabric pools at your ankles, and you kick them aside instinctively.

“touch your bare pussy now, feel how wet you really are.”

his words sends a rush of embarrassment flooding to your cheeks, mixing hot with the arousal pooling low in your belly as you see it all laid out — your glistening entrance completely exposed to the cool air, clit swollen and begging for attention.

heart pounding, you let two fingers meet your bare skin, slipping easily through the wetness as you rub along your slit, tracing the soft, soaked lips from top to bottom. the direct contact is electric, no barrier to dull the sensation, and you moan louder, the sound raw and unrestrained.

“oh god… jaehyun,” you whine his name for the first time and the way it tumbles from your lips turns you on even more.

“hmm,” he hums in approval, leaning in to place a messy kiss on your shoulder, his lips lingering with a soft suck before pulling back.

“push one finger in now—slide it right along your entrance, feel how your pussy opens for it.”

you hesitate for a split second, then press one finger at your hole, pushing in slowly. the tight ring of muscle gives way with a wet squelch, your walls clenching around the intrusion as you sink deeper, inch by inch.

another tiny moan escapes you as you hold your breath. the fullness is strange but intoxicating, your finger buried to the knuckle inside your heat.

“good girl,” jaehyun praises, his breath warm against your ear, and you could feel your walls react around your digit.

“move it in and out now — slow strokes, tell me what you feel.”

you pump your finger experimentally, drawing it out before sliding back in, the drag pulling another moan from your throat, breathier and higher.

“mmm… it’s… warm…and—fuck—tight,” you gasp, the slick sounds echoing softly as you find a tentative rhythm.

“perfect — add the second one,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe, “push them both in together, stretch yourself a little.

swallowing hard, you ease a second finger alongside the first, the added thickness making your pussy stretch with a delicious burn.

“curl them up toward your belly — that’s the spot that’ll make you see stars.”

you thrust them deeper, curling as he said, the tips brushing a spongy patch inside that sends sparks shooting through you, exactly like he said it.

“jaehyun–,” you moan breathily, hips jerking forward into your hand as you start to pump, in and out, curling on every upstroke.

“fuck, yes — just like that,” he groans softly.

“keep curling, rub that spot hard. feel how your walls flutter? you’re learning so fast, baby,” his praises wash over you, punctuated by wet kisses and his warm hands roaming all over your skin

after a while, you start getting the rhythm of it all, instinct taking over as your body chases after the sensation — fingers plunging faster, curling with precision, thumb occasionally grazing your clit. soft moans continue to spill from you, your head falling back against his chest, thighs trembling as the pleasure builds like a wave.

“that’s it, my perfect girl,” he whispers, lips pressing fervent kisses along your neck and shoulders, anywhere his mouth can reach, tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“look at you fucking yourself so well — your pussy’s dripping down your hand. don’t hold back, chase it.”

but as the heat continues to rise, coiling tighter in your core, it starts to feel overwhelming, the intensity bordering on too much, your fingers falter, and — you stop abruptly, pulling them out halfway.

“fuck—wait,” you pant, chest heaving, a whine edge in your voice as you try to catch your breath.

“what’s wrong?” he asks immediately, voice laced with gentle concern as he lifts his head to meet your eyes in the reflection.

“my stomach felt weird,” you reply, cheeks burning with the admission, your fingers hovering uncertainly at your entrance.

he adores your innocence in that moment, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he presses a tender kiss to your jaw.

“good weird or a bad weird?”

“i don’t know… it felt…hot,” you explain, voice small and breathless, your body still thrumming with unmet need.

he smiles wider, another kiss landing on your flushed skin, “that just means you’re close.”

your eyes widen in the mirror, a mix of surprise and lingering uncertainty flashing across your face, “did i mess it up?”

he shakes his head no, his tone reassuring and firm.

“no. just touch yourself again for me and this time — don’t stop until i say so.”

nodding, you slide your fingers back inside — two at once, curling right away as he taught you, resuming the rhythm, pumping steadily, the heat reigniting almost instantly. desperate moans pour from you now as the coil tightens again, faster this time, your pussy clenching rhythmically around your digits.

but when the the pressure builds to an unbearable peak —

“jaehyun… it’s… too–” you try to pull your hand away again, whimpering.

he doesn’t let you this time.

his large hand coming over yours, keeping your fingers buried deep inside as he holds you in place.

“shhh, stay with it — i've got you,” he murmurs.

his other hand slipping down to rub at your clit in firm, tight circles, pressing just right to push you over.

“let it happen, cum for me.”

the sensation completely shatters you — your walls tightening around your digits — and your first orgasm ever crashes through you so hard you can’t even contain yourself anymore, the sounds spilling out raw and desperate, echoing in the quiet room.

“ahh—jae—fuck!”

you cry, the words breaking into a high-pitched keen as your body arches off his chest, your toes curling tight against the carpet, eyes rolling back, vision blurring with stars, as your thighs clamp down around his hand, trapping him there. the pleasure pulses hot and endless, flooding every nerve until you're shaking uncontrollably, slick gushing over your fingers.

jaehyun holds you through it all, his arm banded securely around your waist to keep you from bucking too wildly, his free hand still working your clit in slowing strokes to help you ride the waves.

“that’s it, love — feel every bit of it,” he murmurs softly, his lips brushing feather-light kisses along your temples, grounding you as the tremors start to fade.

he slows his fingers gradually, letting the aftershocks ripple through you, your pussy fluttering weakly around your buried digits until the intensity fades to a warm, satisfied glow.

your breaths come in ragged pants, body limp and heavy against him, sweat-damp skin sticking to his shirt. finally, your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused at first, meeting his gaze in the mirror — dark eyes full of pride and something deeper, more possessive.

with a gentle tug, he guides your hand out of your pussy, your fingers emerging slick and shining with your cum, the wet pop audible in the stillness.

“look at yourself, look at your pretty pussy,” he instructs, voice husky and commanding, as he lifts your hand between you.

your eyes snap to the reflection, cheeks flushing anew at the sight — your thighs splayed wide, pussy flushed and puffy, entrance gaping slightly from the stretch, glistening with arousal that drips down toward your ass.

you watch, mesmerized, as he brings your slick digits up to his lips, parting them to take them inside his mouth. his tongue swirls around your fingers, sucking deliberately, drawing your cum off them with slow, savoring pulls — hollowing his cheeks like it's the sweetest treat he's ever had.

you stare wide eyed, arousal stirring fresh despite the exhaustion, a new heat blooming in your belly as you watch him devour your juices.

the way his eyes lock on yours, the soft hum of approval vibrating against your skin — it's filthy and captivating, making you wonder how it tasted, what it felt like on his tongue.

“how does it taste?” you ask, finally finding your voice, breathy and tentative, your gaze flicking from his mouth to his face.

he smirks, releasing your fingers with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting them briefly before he licks his lips, “you want to know?”

you nod, heart racing again, curiosity overriding any lingering shyness.

without a word, he cups the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss — deep and unhurried, his tongue sliding past your lips to share the flavor, your own arousal coating his mouth as he explores yours.

you moan softly into it, tasting yourself on him, the intimacy of it sending a shiver down your spine as his free hand strokes your thigh soothingly, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your skin.

the kiss deepens, growing hungrier, his tongue stroking yours in firm sweeps while you tilt your head for more.

you shift, turning around in his arms for a better angle, rising onto your knees between his spread legs, hands sliding up his chest over the thin shirt. your fingers catch the hem, tugging insistently, suddenly aware he’s still fully clothed while you’re completely exposed.

jaehyun breaks the kiss just long enough to yank it off swiftly over his head, tossing it aside with your clothes, revealing the sculpted ridges of his eight pack abs — hard, defined lines flexing under smooth skin, a dark happy trail snaking from his navel down and sharp v-lines disappearing into his pants.

you pause, eyes widening as you admire him, one hand trailing down his abs, “god…i don’t think any fictional man can compare anymore,” you murmur, voice laced with awe.

he laughs low and rich, the sound vibrating through his chest, clearly enjoying this bolder side of you over the earlier nerves.

“good thing i’m real and all yours,” he winks, dimples flashing as he pulls you back in for another kiss, lips claiming yours with renewed heat.

“all mine…for another hour or two,” you tease breathlessly when you pull back, a playful glint in your eyes.

his dimples deepen then, eyes darkening with amusement and desire, “let’s not waste a second then,” he teases.

“that would be a shame,” you say quietly, a smile curving your lips before your graze drifts lower, lingering on the thick bulge straining against his plaid pajama pants.

“you can take it off, you know?” he says, reading your mind, his hand guiding yours to the waistband.

you nod, cheeks heating as you shyly hook your fingers in and slide the pants down his hips, exposing the black boxers that do nothing to hide his impressive length – thick and throbbing visibly beneath the thin material.

“take that off for me too, sweet girl,” he instructs, voice firm and coaxing, eyes locked on yours.

you obey without hesitation, palms sliding up his thighs before tugging the boxers down, watching as his cock springs up immediately — heavy and erect, veined shaft curving slightly upward, the flushed head already beading pre-cum.

he lifts his hips to help, kicking the pants and boxers off and you can’t help but gulp at the sight of him fully exposed. with your pulse racing, you reach out without asking, fingers wrapping around his length at the base.

his hips buck up sharply into your grip, a low grunt escaping his throat as you surprisingly squeeze experimentally, feeling him twitch and harden further in your palm.

“what are you thinking about?” he asks, noticing your silence.

“i’m comparing it to my fingers,” you say quietly, stroking once from base to tip before meeting his gaze straight on, “this is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”

jaehyun slowly guides your hand towards his mouth, eyes on yours the whole time when he lets his spit slowly drool from his lips to your palm. it’s vulgar and messy and it makes your head spin.

then he brings your hand back down to his cock, guiding you into a slow pump along his shaft, his abs tightening under where your other palm rests.

“it might sting at first, yeah—especially since you’re new to this,” he admits honestly, making your thumb circle the sensitive underside of the head with your joined hands, smearing his pre-cum down the length, “—but i’ll go slow, make sure you’re wet and ready. you’ll take me like you were made for it…until you’re begging for it.”

his words send fresh heat flooding your core, pussy clenching emptily as you watch your hand glide over his cock. he groans softly, hips rolling up into each stroke, free hand tangling in your hair to tilt your face up.

“keep stroking me like that, twist your wrist at the top.”

you follow his guidance, earning a grunt from him.

“yeah—fuck, baby, just like that.”

it’s hot. he’s hot. the sounds he makes are hot.

you pump faster, mesmerized by him, feeling his cock throb thicker in your fist. his breaths grow ragged, eyes half lidded as he watches you, then pulls you up for a messy kiss, tongue fucking your mouth in time with your strokes.

his hand leaves yours, sliding down your back to cup your ass firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lifts you up slightly. your knees spread wider on the carpet, ass rising into the air, pussy exposed and dripping from behind.

and without warning, he presses one long finger against your slick entrance and pushes inside, stretching your walls with a single smooth thrust.

you moan loud into the kiss as your grip on his cock tightens, strokes pausing mid-pump while you adjust to the intrusion.

it’s so much different from fingering yourself — his finger is thicker, longer, moves with purpose you can’t anticipate.

he drags it out slow, then slams back in, curling deep against that soft spot inside, sending sparks exploding through your nerves.

you try your best to resume pumping his cock, hand jerking unevenly along the slick length, but the sensation overwhelms you. after a few shaky strokes, you give up, fingers digging into his muscular thigh for anchor as your mouth hangs open against his, breaths panting hot and desperate.

he breaks the kiss to nip at your jaw, lips brushing your ear as he whispers praises, voice rough and commanding, “so fucking tight—you like that, don’t you? like it when my fingers fuck you like this.”

his digit pumps faster, plunging in and out with wet squelches, thumb now circling your swollen clit in firm presses.

and god, the not knowing makes it so much better — when he’ll curl, when he’ll thrust, when he’ll grind his palm over your clit.

nothing registers but him finger-fucking you — the stretch, the heat, the relentless pressure building low in your belly.

“you’re so wet baby, this pussy is ready to take me,” he grunts, adding a second finger without mercy, scissoring them wide to open you up, knuckles bumping your entrance as he dives deeper.

you’re a goner. your head falls to the crook of his neck, nose buried in his skin, teeth clenched, body seizing as your second orgasm crashes over you just like that. your walls clamp down hard on his fingers, creaming all over his hand, the fresh slick dripping down your thighs. your cries are muffled against his shoulder as your hips buck wildly onto his palm, chasing every brutal thrust through the waves.

jaehyun doesn’t stop, his free arm banding around your waist to hold you steady as you tremble and spasm. 

“fuck, that’s it—soak my fingers, sweet girl,” he praises, watching your body shake through the mirror. 

your breaths come in shattered gasps, body going limp in his hold as the aftershocks ripple through you. 

he eases his fingers out slow, then brings them to your lips, “taste yourself,” he murmurs, pushing the soaked digits past your parted mouth.

you suck obediently, tongue lapping at your own release, eyes fluttering up to meet his heated gaze. 

he groans at the sight, cock jerking visibly, “now get on the bed—it’s time for the real lesson.”

your eyes widen slightly, pulse racing at his words, but at this point you’re so ready for this — your body practically begging as your pussy clenches around nothing, aching to be filled. 

you push up on shaking legs, knees wobbly from the orgasms, turning toward the bed. before you can climb on and sit down — jaehyun’s large, strong hands grip your hips, spinning you around fast. his lips crash onto your again, kissing you hungrily. 

he walks you backward step by step, guiding you onto the bed. your back meets the soft sheets, sinking into the plush mattress as your legs part on instinct, thighs spreading wide. he settles between them heavy and hot, his muscular frame caging you in, his rock hard cock dragging teasingly along your inner thigh. 

jaehyun breaks the kiss only to trail his mouth down your jaw, to your neck, sucking hard enough to mark the skin red, drawing out a sharp moan from you. 

he moves to your breasts next, mouth closing over one nipple, tongue flicking the peak before sucking on it. your body arches off the bed, pressing your chest into his face, the pull shooting straight to your core. 

“jaehyun—,” you moan, the sensation so new and overwhelming in the best way possible. he switches sides, lavishing the other nipple with the same attention — suck, bite, soothe with his tongue — leaving behind a couple of dark hickeys blooming purple on your skin. 

finally, he pulls back, sliding down your body until he’s on his knees. one hand wanders flat over your stomach, tracing down to your hips, then dipping to your inner thigh until his fingers reach your pussy lips, parting them open and exposing your dripping entrance and throbbing clit to the cool air. 

you watch him the entire time, breath held, excitement buzzing through your veins like electricity. 

jaehyun grips his cock at the base, sending you a playful smirk before he guides the flushed head up through your folds – but not inside.

he slides it along your slick, coating himself in your arousal, then swirl the tip around your clit in lazy circles, letting you feel him skin to skin. 

the pressure edges you mercilessly, building that coil together once again. you whine high and desperate, hips bucking up to chase the friction, needing more.

“please….jaehyun.”

he smiles down at you, dimples flashing wickedly, eyes locked on your pleading face. 

“gotta make sure you’re nice and wet, sweet girl.”

he doesn’t give in just yet. tapping his cock against your clit — once, twice, three times — each tap leaving you wanting more. then he drags down your folds again, nudging your hole but pulling back every time, teasing the stretch. 

your whines turn to full begging, thighs trembling, your pussy getting wetter and wetter with ever second. 

when he finally deems you ready, he leans over to snatch the condom on the nightstand, ripping the packet open with his teeth and rolling the latex down his length with practiced ease, the sight making your mouth water. you had no idea who you were anymore, all you know is that you needed him. badly. 

he crawls back up, face hovering inches from yours, “ready?” he asks, voice softer than it’s been the whole night, his cock nudging right at your entrance, the tip kissing your hole. 

you nod frantically, hands going to the nape of his neck.

“yes—please, jaehyun, i need to feel you inside me.”

he doesn’t make you beg anymore after that, pressing forward slowly, the thick head of his cock breaching your tight ring with a wet pop, stretching you inch by burning inch.

it burns so good, fuller than his fingers, your walls yielding reluctantly to his size as he sinks deeper. you’re thankful he took the time prepping you because you can’t even imagine he’d fit if you weren’t this wet. 

you shut your eyes tight, hissing sharp at the slight sting of the stretch. 

jaehyun notices immediately, hips stuttering just a fraction, “you’re doing so well, love – almost there,” he grunts low, voice strained as he fights his own urges.

you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet and it feels like heaven and torture rolled into one because he knows you’re a virgin — knows he has to go slow, let you savor it. 

once he bottoms out, his balls snug against your ass, he stills completely, giving you a long moment to adjust to the impossible fullness splitting you open, your pussy fluttering wild around him. he peppers your face with soft kisses, a tender contrast to the raw stretch. 

you open your eyes, a little watery from the intensity and he thumbs away a tiny tear before it can fall, gaze locked soft on yours. 

“you still with me?” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. 

you nod quick, but he tilts his head, dimples faint in that patient smile, “what did i say about words?”

“i’m with you,” you confirm, voice breathy, hands clutching his biceps. 

“i’m gonna move now, okay?”

“okay,” you whisper, pulse thundering.

he starts thrusting slow, pulling out halfway then pushing back in with a smooth roll of his hips, letting you get used to the drag.

the pain starts subsiding quick, morphing into sparks of pleasure that bloom deep in your belly, your body starting to react to it as your hips buck up instinctively to match his slow rhythm, chasing more. 

“faster, please,” you plead, voice wrecked. 

he obliges without question, picking up the pace slightly.

he hikes one of your legs higher, hooking it over his waist, opening you wider — and then he’s hitting it. every snap of his hips grinding right against that spot inside. you moan loud, unrestrained, the sound ripping from your throat. 

“yeah, there we go, baby, let me hear you — you sound so fucking pretty,” he praises, voice rough with lust, urging you on as sweat beads on his temple. 

“right there, right there, right there, please jaehyun—,” your whines mixes with your moans, hands wrapping around his torso, nails scraping his back to pull him closer.

he knows exactly what you need, his cock slamming that spot deeper — relentless, pounding now. 

you’ve never felt anything like it, pleasure coiling vicious and hot, building to a peak that whites out your vision. 

you last a couple more thrusts, walls clamping down hard before your third orgasm crashes through you fully. your entire body heats up, pussy spasming wild around his cock, mouth falling open in a breathless moan, the feeling of raw ecstasy making your eyes shut tight while stars burst behind your lids, limbs locking and trembling in his grip. 

“that’s it, baby, fuck—you’re coming so hard for me,” jaehyun praises you through it, his hips grinding deep to drag out every pulse.

“look at you, creaming all over my cock, squeezing me so tight — perfect little pussy.”

you barely have time to catch your breath and process the fact that you’re no longer a virgin when jaehyun pulls out with a wet slide, your empty pussy clenching around nothing, as your release slides out of your hole and down to your ass crack. 

you hear the sharp snap of latex being yanked off and tossed aside. and the next second – jaehyun’s hovering over you – on his knees, his length obscene and huge, flushed dark and throbbing, veins bulging. he taps the swollen head onto your parted lips. 

“wider,” he commands, tone firm, eyes dark with hunger. 

he definitely fucked you stupid because you obey instantly, parting your lips wider, tongue flicking out instinctively. 

“good girl,” he praises low, dimples flashing wicked before he shoves his cock down your throat in one smooth thrust. it hits the back of your throat immediately, making you gag hard, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. 

you think back to all those books, the smut you devoured, and you’re prepared for this more than you thought — you force your jaw to slack, relaxing the muscles as much as possible, breathing raggedly through your nose and ignoring the tears welling fast, blurring your vision, as you let jaehyun fuck your mouth. 

his hips snap forward, grunts and groans rumbling deep from his throat, so hot they vibrate straight to your core. you could listen to him forever —  that raw, animalistic sound of need. it makes you horny again, pussy clenching empty, aching fresh, thighs rubbing together for some comfort. 

you almost can’t believe you’ve avoided sexual acts for this long and now you have a man balls deep in your throat in the same hour you lost your virginity. 

but fuck, you wouldn’t change a thing.

this was all your fanfictions exploding into reality and it’s so much hotter — thicker, messier, real sweat and musk and stretch. 

jaehyun’s abs clench tight above you, “nngh–,” a low sound rattles in his throat, somewhere between a moan and a growl, “i’m gonna cum—fuck.”

he’s losing his bearings, his thrusts turning erratic and sloppy. you feel him start to pull back and it’s almost sweet how he doesn’t want to force you to swallow his cum when he’s already choking you with his cock — but your desire is ravenous, your hands shooting up to grip his ass cheeks firmly, nails digging in to yank him deeper, holding him in place. you suck harder, hollowing your cheeks, tongue swirling frantically around him. 

“oh—god,” he groans, head tipping back, “you dirty, dirty girl.”

he grabs a fistful of your hair tightly, yanking your head steady as your tearful eyes lock on his — blown pupils, jaw slack, pure feral lust. 

“you better swallow every drop,” he growls through clenched teeth, his voice breaking, and then he’s erupting — hot ropes pulsing straight down your throat, thick and endless. you gulp it down greedily, not spilling a bit, throat working around him until he’s spent and shuddering above you, cock twitching with aftershocks. 

jaehyun finally pulls out slow, slick strands of spit and cum connecting your lips to his tip before snapping free.

you let yourself cough for a bit, finally regaining air in your lungs as he slides back down your body.

“so good for me, taking it all like that – my perfect girl,” he praises, caressing your face gently before capturing your mouth in a deep kiss, tasting himself in you.

“who taught you how to suck somene off like that, huh?” he teases, eyes sparkling wickedly as he props on his elbows, his body against yours. 

you smile shyly, cheeks burning hot, biting your lip. 

he grins wide, dimples carving deep, already knowing, “those books are that good?” he asks, voice playful. 

you laugh bright, playfully shoving his shoulder, “yeah, well, the writers are pretty damn amazing.”

he quirks a brow high, smirk tugging, “anything else they write about that you want to try?” he waits, gaze intense, hand tracing lazy circles on your skin. 

“i—uhm,” you start, voice soft, “i kinda want to ride you.”

he chuckles deep, hand roaming down your hip, squeezing the curve firm, “you gotta give me five minutes, love,” he says playful, making you laugh again, the tension easing into giddy warmth.

you’re thankful he’s not making this whole thing a bigger deal than it has to be, that he’s not treating you like something breakable just because it’s your first time. 

“do they write about how it feels to be eaten out?” he smirks slow, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

you nod quick, pulse racing fresh. 

“let me know if the writing is as good as the actual thing,” he says teasingly. 

and then he’s shifting down, strong hands spreading your thighs wide, hooking under your knees to pin you open. his breath ghosts hot over your soaked pussy before his tongue flattens, licking a long stripe up your slit from your hole to your clit, lapping your juices clean. 

your head sinks deep into the pillow, back arching sharp, body reacting immediately to his touch,“god—jaehyun,” you whine high, hands flying down to grip his dark hair, tugging the strands between your fingers. 

he groans into you, vibration humming straight to your core and dives in hungrily — lips sealing around your clit, sucking, tongue flicking rapid circles around the sensitive bud. your hips buck up desperately, grinding your folds against his face, chasing the pressure. 

he eats you out filthily, nose bumping your clit as his tongue thrusts in, slurping every drip of your arousal. spit and cream smear his chin, dripping down.

your thighs quake around his head, heels digging into the mattress, your grip tightening in his hair as that spark builds low in your belly once again. 

“jae—fuck, yes,” you gasp, legs trembling now, toes curling into the sheets.

he presses his face deeper and you shatter hard, your fourth orgasm crashing through you like fire, pussy spasming as you squirt tiny bursts against his mouth.

jaehyun drinks it down, sucking your pulsing clit to drag out every throb. your back arches off the bed, cry ripping raw from your chest, as you push his head off of you, giving yourself a moment to breathe. 

his lips are glistening with your release, eyes dark and smug as he crawls beside you, sitting against the headboard as he caresses your hair.

“better than the book, yeah?” he murmurs playfully, earning an eye roll and a tired laugh from you as you calm your racing pulse.

“still wanna ride me, baby?” he asks, voice low and coaxing.

you look up at him then. in truth, you’re feeling tired, but on the other hand, you still wanted to feel it. 

“c-can i?” you ask shyly. 

he nods, thumb stroking your cheek, “of course you can, anything you want to do, love.”

he reaches for another condom on the nightstand. you sit up now, watching him move.

“can i put it on you?”

he gives you a soft smile, handing it over, “yeah, here.” his hand covers yours, showing you how to pinch the tip and slide it down smooth over his hard cock until it hugs him tight. 

once it’s on, he guides you over his lap to straddle him, thighs spreading wide around his hips, “now…just grip the base of me like this,” he says, wrapping your fingers around his cock, steady and thick in your palm, “and sit whenever you’re ready.”

you nod, heart pounding, lining his tip up with your soaked entrance. you take a soft breath before slowly, pushing down, the stretch burning sweetly. 

“oh—shit,” you moans, sinking lower inch by inch, the new angle making you feel him even more, “oh my god—you feel so big.”

he tries to hide his smirk as his hands settle on your waist, rubbing soothing circles, letting you control the drop. 

“take your time, sweet girl—you can do it,” he praises. then his mouth latches onto one nipple, lips sucking softly and sweetly. 

and fuck, there’s a reason why he’s the most valuable donor. 

you whimper, hips dipping further, taking half of his length now, walls clenching greedy around the invasion. he switches nipples, sucking the other into wet heat, humming approval that vibrates through your chest. 

“fuck, you’re tight,” he groans against your skin, one hand sliding up your back to pull you closer, the other kneading your ass.

you continue until your ass meets his thighs and he’s buried balls deep, the fullness stealing your breath, pussy stuffed full and pulsing around him.

you pause there, panting, adjusting to his size. jaehyun kisses between your breasts, up to your neck, murmuring, “move when it feels good, yeah? bounce or grind—whatever you need.”

his words sink in, a gentle push to explore and figure out what your body likes. 

you lift your hips slowly, slick pussy dragging up his shaft, then sink back down slow, the friction sparking fresh heat low in your belly.

then you try grinding circles next, your clit pressing firm against his pubic bone, cock buried deep and still. a soft moan slips out at that — your body likes this roll, the way it rubs that inner wall just right. 

he watches close, eyes locked on your face, hands loose on your hips. and  you can’t help it, he’s just so handsome and patient and everything you wanted this to be. you lean forward, capturing his mouth in a messy kiss, moaning into it as you grind harder. each second builds pressure, pussy clenching around his thickness, learning the rhythm that makes your thighs quiver. 

“that’s it, baby—fuck yourself on my cock—you love it don’t you?” he breathes against your lips, still letting you lead. 

“f-feels s-so full, jaehyun,” you admit in moans, bouncing slightly now, moans pouring into his mouth louder while your hips chase that rising coil, your sweat beads on your skin, tits brushing his chest with every grind. 

the heat swells fast again, that now familiar ache demanding more. you rock frantically, your pace faltering as your thighs start to burn. whines escape between kisses, desperate little sounds that demand more. 

“what do you need, love? tell me,” he asks, his voice husky, though his smirk says he already knows. 

“need it faster—please,” you whine, nails digging into his chest. 

that flips the switch.

he plants your heels firm into the mattress on either side of his hips, “hold here,” he says, guiding your hands up to grip his shoulders tight. then he takes over — hips snapping up at a punishing pace, each thrust slamming into the spot that whites out your vision, his grip on your hip hot and bruising.

you moan louder than you thought you could, your raw cries bouncing off the walls as the sound of skin slapping wet and loud fills your ears.

soon enough, your knees buckle as you collapse against his chest. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow — his strong hands grips your ass cheeks, bouncing you up and down his cock easily. 

“jaehyun—fuck!”

your pussy stretches around every ruthless plunge, walls fluttering wild. he grunts by your ear, breath hot on your neck, cock throbbing thicker inside you. 

“i’m–i’m gonna cum—,” you scream between clenched teeth, body seizing as the edge crashes, bringing you to your fifth orgasm. 

“that’s it, baby—squeeze me just like that,” he growls low in your ear as you shatter completely, pussy convulsing violently around him, juices gushing down his shaft, pushing him to his own orgasm. he thrusts deep one last time, his cock pulsing hard as he fills the condom with thick ropes of cum. 

you’re both wrecked, panting, locked together. his arms wrap tight around your back as he kisses your shoulder.

“so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, holding you close through the aftershocks. 

you stay like that for a while, his hand stroking your back in lazy circles, letting you catch your breath and piece your scattered mind back together. the fullness is almost comforting, warm inside, a reminder of how thoroughly he wrecked you. 

you lift your head finally, meeting his gaze, his eyes soft and searching, “you okay?” he asks, thumb brushing your cheek. 

you nod, a shy smile tugging at your lips, “that was—i don’t know how that’s going to be topped…you may have set the standards too high for real men,” you say, laughing softly. 

he laughs with you, deep and warm, his hand sliding up to rub your arm up and down, his soft cock still buried inside you. 

“well, i’ll be here if you ever need your standards met,” he winks, smile widening, those dimples carving deep into his cheeks.

and you can’t resist it anymore — your finger reaches up sweetly, poking one dimple gently. his expression shifts to amused shock, brows lifting playfully as he catches your hand and landing a kiss on your fingertip. 

“thank you,” you say sweetly, “i couldn’t have asked for a better first time.”

he pulls you down for a kiss then, soft and slow, lips moving tenderly against yours, “thank you for trusting me,” he murmurs when he pulls back as you two share a smile.

“let’s get you cleaned up.”

you nod, finally hopping off him, your pussy clenching empty around nothing, juices spilling down between your thighs, already missing that thick stretch as his cock slips free with a wet slide.

he pulls the condom off, tying it off quick before tossing it to the bin, then guides you with a hand at your lower back toward the door leading to the bathroom, your legs feeling like jelly below you.

“one last lesson,” he says smirking, “you need to pee.”

you laugh, the sound light and bubbly, “got it, i have read about that.”

he laughs then, eyes crinkling at the corners, “you gotta send me these books you’re reading…i might learn a thing or two,” he jokes, handing you a soft towel from a stack on the counter.

“go ahead, i’ll get your clothes,” he says before giving you a bit of privacy as he saunters back into the bedroom to pick your clothes off the ground.

you look at your reflection in the mirror and yeah, it does kinda scream that you just got railed in the best way possible.

you do your thing — wiping the sticky mess from your thighs before finally sitting on the toilet. you wash up softly, your pussy still throbbing tenderly, swollen lips aching sweet from the stretch and friction.

he knocks softly before peeking in, he’s back in his clothes now too while your clothes and underwear are draped over his arm.

“all good?” he asks, stepping in to lay them on the counter.

“yeah,” you say, taking the clothes, and slipping into it.

he turns away politely and it’s cute considering how he’s the only person to ever see and touch your body intimately.

you step out of the bathroom fully dressed and he walks over to you, placing his hand up, palm open just like how this all started.

“ready to head out?”

you nod, placing your hand in his, warm and steady. he leads you out the door of suite 14 and into the hallway back to the lobby, his fingers laced loosed with yours. as you’re walking, he pulls out a single red rose that he tucked between his pajama pants like the cheeky, cheeky man he is.

“for you ms. y/n.”

you try to hide your smile, cheeks warming, “thank you, mr. jung,” you giggle, taking the rose from him, the symbolism of the flower making you laugh inside – how poetic.

“is it always this sweet here?” you ask, twirling the stem between your fingers.

“it depends on the client,” he says honestly, dimples deepening as he glances sideways.

“has anyone fallen in love with a client before?” you ask, head already swrling with romantic fantasies.

he pauses to think for a bit, “i don’t think so…but i wouldn’t put it past us,” he says rationally, “we are still human after all.”

you nod at that. then you make it to the door that leads to the lobby.

“well…johnny will take care of you now,” he says, “thank you for choosing me, ms. y/n,” he smiles then, releasing your hand softly just to offer it out again for handshake.

you take it, shaking his hand, “i couldn’t have chosen a better donor,” you say softly.

then, just when you thought it was over – he brings your hand up to his lips, placing a soft kiss between your knuckles, the brush of his mouth sending a final spark through your skin.

“come back whenever you want,” he says, sending you a playful wink, dimples flashing one last time before finally letting you step back into the lobby, your heart fluttering quietly in your chest as the door to the private suites closes behind you.

✚ END OF SESSION ✚

“welcome back,” johnny says lightly, pulling you back to reality as you walk up to the reception desk.

“how was suite 14?”

you grip the rose tighter between your fingers, body and mind still humming from jaehyun, “perfect,” you admit shyly, cheeks heating.

johnny nods approvingly, a small smile on his lips, “jaehyun’s got that effect.”

then he’s sliding a black bag towards you. you eye it suspiciously, curiosity piqued.

“a gift from us,” johnny says, eyes twinkling, “a little thank you for giving us a chance.”

you smile, grabbing the bag and thanking him before finally stepping out of the clinic and into the cool evening air.

you slide into the driver’s seat of your car, exhaling long and slow, processing everything that just happened. your body aches in the best way, the faint musk of sex clinging to your skin.

you checked the inside of the bag to find a folded white hoodie with the words ORGASM DONOR in bold letters across the chest. a laugh bubbles up from your chest, genuine and light, cutting through the post-sex haze.

you pull your phone out then, pulling up the neo orgasm’s clinic website to leave your own review:

“jaehyun is every swoon-worthy romantic lead i’ve ever read and so much more. a patient teacher, a dominant lover, the most perfect donor who made this virgin’s first time a bestseller. if your fantasies live between the lines, book him. you’ll beg for the sequel.”

✚ APPOINTMENT STATUS: COMPLETE ✚

—

18+ only | watch at your own risk | contains mature content

BONUS: #1. #2. #3. #4. #5. #6. #7. #8. #9. #10. #11.

an: DADA IS HOMEEEEEEEEE 🫦🫦 i have survived my first military wife era!!!!!!!!!!!!!!🏆🏅….i hope you loved donor jaehyun! i wanted to make him real sweet and a quiet dom for this one,, please tell me you see the visionnnn! and please let me know what you think <333 — again, a kind reminder: this whole entire concept is supposed to be silly! please don't take it too seriously :)

🩺 likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated

client tags: @nctateez @kkyeoji @maeyokt @valentine-night @binniesbabe @neotannies @booskles @hyuniiO @PL4NETX1A @soupbinlily @fancypeacepersona @jaeminiwrld @Kawaiislutt @mingoovaka @klowiishere @iluvgnabnahc @rex-ie @thisiswhyiwit @oonyourmmark @sung-ct @markiesfatbooty @kkkkkeonho @mikaaa14 @lovexjeno @vampyirx @lovesuhng @notmastyle @peonyjoo @roundedreveluv @severeanxietyissues @ajjunicesblog @shiningdery @shiningnono @thatrandogirl07 @chvngm1nz @prettyspeachyplease @Cottonjaems @yesohhsehun @jaemsprettygf @tinkerbellsgf @yutalOver @meowieshibal @hjjjjijku79999 @82fragilidad @neokoh @serpeverde005 @is4b3113s @yowmaman @aurilvs @mango-bear @channie127

Jia: wow ur so anti-fun

You huffed, tossing your phone face down on your bed. End-of-semester beach trip, they said. It’ll be relaxing, they said. Somehow, the only thing you felt right now was a mix of anxiety and secondhand poverty.

Mina’s voice floated in from the desk where she was hunched over her laptop, tabs upon tabs open with photos of beach houses, price comparisons, and an ominous-looking spreadsheet.

“Okay,” she sighed, spinning her chair toward you. “If we get this place, it’s like… fifty dollars over budget per person.”

“Per person?” you deadpanned. “What are we renting, a castle?”

She swung the screen toward you; the listing showed floor-to-ceiling glass windows, a wraparound porch, a view of the ocean, and a hot tub.

“…Okay, it’s a really nice castle,” you admitted. “But still.”

Mina gnawed her bottom lip, then brightened like she’d just solved world hunger. “Actually, I might have a solution.”

You didn’t like the way she said that.

“What kind of solution?” you asked slowly.

She swiveled back to the laptop and clicked over to another tab—her messages. A chat with someone named Jihoon 🏄‍♂️ popped up.

“Mina,” you warned.

“So, Jihoon and his friends are planning an end-of-semester trip too,” she said, fingers flying over the keys. “They’re also broke. If we go together, we split the cost between more people. Boom, solved.”

From the floor, where Jia was lying on her stomach painting her toenails neon yellow, came a delighted gasp. “Co-ed beach trip? Say less. I’m in.”

“Of course you are,” you muttered.

Jia looked up, grinning. “What, do you hate fun and men?”

“Yes,” you replied without missing a beat. “Absolutely.”

Mina laughed. “Come on. It makes sense. We were gonna hang out with them anyway when we got back. This is just… combination hanging out. Economical hanging out.”

You frowned, trying to find solid ground under the wave of sudden change. “It’s supposed to be a girls’ trip,” you pointed out. “We planned this since, like, midterms. And now we’re just… adding a horde of loud boys into the mix?”

“They’re not a horde,” Mina protested. “There’s just five of them.”

“So a small horde,” you countered. “Also, is there even enough room? What if they’re disgusting and smelly and leave sand everywhere? What if they’re annoying? What if—”

“Oh my God,” Jia cut in, capping her nail polish. “Just say what you really mean.”

You crossed your arms. “I am.”

She and Mina exchanged the kind of look that said they’d been waiting for this.

Mina spun fully toward you, folding her arms to mirror your posture. “This isn’t about logistics,” she said. “This is about Park Wonbin.”

Your stomach dropped. “No, it’s not,” you lied immediately.

Jia laughed. “You just said boys like it was a slur.”

“That’s because he is included in ‘boys,’ and he’s basically a walking red flag,” you shot back. “Why would I willingly sign up to share a roof with Wonbin?”

Mina groaned. “You two don’t, like, actually hate each other.”

“Yes, we do,” you said at the same time Jia chimed in, “They definitely do.”

You pointed at Jia. “Thank you.”

“Babe,” Mina said, exasperated, “the most intense thing that’s ever happened between you two is him calling you ‘princess’ and you almost throwing your coffee at him.”

“First of all, I am the victim in that story,” you argued. “Second, he’s—he’s overconfident and annoying and flirts with anything that breathes. Including you two!” You gestured at them. “Why are you so excited to spend days trapped in a house with someone whose entire personality is being a menace?”

“Because he’s hot,” Jia replied instantly.

Mina snorted. “Okay but also he’s funny. And he’s Jihoon’s best friend, which means he’s vetted.”

“Vetted for what?” you said. “Being chaos incarnate?”

Mina sighed, softening her tone. “Look. Whatever this… thing is between you two, it doesn’t have an actual basis. You never could give me one concrete example.”

“He exists,” you said flatly. “Is that not enough?”

Jia threw a pillow at you. “You’re so dramatic. It’s not that serious. You talk about him like you’re writing an essay about idiots.’”

Heat crawled up your neck. “I do not.”

“You do,” Mina and Jia chorused.

Mina rolled closer and bumped your knee with her chair. “Be honest. He gets under your skin and you kind of… like having someone to spar with.”

You scoffed. “I like winning. Which I do. Often.”

Jia raised a brow. “You two are like… fifty-fifty at this point.”

The fact that she wasn’t entirely wrong pissed you off more.

Mina’s expression turned pleading. “It’s just a few days. You don’t even have to talk to him. You can pretend he doesn’t exist and enjoy the beach and the hot tub and not being broke.”

Your jaw tightened. A part of you wanted to dig your heels in, to prove them wrong about… whatever dumb theory they had about you and Wonbin. Another part of you imagined saying no and then listening to them complain about money for the next week.

You exhaled. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Mina repeated, eyes widening.

“As long as they say yes,” you clarified. “And as long as he doesn’t pull any of his usual crap. If he pisses me off, I’m dealing with him privately.”

Jia wiggled her brows. “Privately?”

“Not like that,” you snapped.

Mina’s grin was instant, blinding. “You won’t regret this.”

You already did.

~

They said yes.

Of course they did.

The beach house looked even better in person. The front porch wrapped almost all the way around, the salty air was thick and warm, and you could hear the ocean before you could see it—waves crashing in a soothing, relentless rhythm.

Your group’s car pulled in first. You stretched your cramped legs, shouldered your tote, and took a deep breath of sea air.

“Smell that?” Jia sighed happily, shading her eyes. “That’s the scent of freedom and bad decisions.”

“Smells like SPF fifty and sand in unfortunate places,” you muttered, but your lips twitched anyway.

You had just wrestled your suitcase out of the trunk when another car pulled into the driveway. Bass thumped faintly from within. Of course.

“Boys are here,” Mina sing-songed.

The car doors opened in succession. Jihoon, all sun-tousled hair and easy smile, waved as he stepped out. A couple of the other guys you vaguely recognized from campus spilled out after him.

Then he appeared.

Park Wonbin hopped out of the backseat like this was a commercial for summer, stretching with a groan that lifted his already-too-short T-shirt to flash a strip of tan skin. His hair was pushed back by a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. He slung a duffel over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

The worst part was that Jia was right. He was stupidly attractive.

You schooled your face into neutral.

His gaze swept across the driveway, landing on you like it’d been looking for you in particular. His mouth curled.

“Aw,” he drawled, striding closer. “They let you come?”

You inhaled through your nose. “Unfortunately, no one enforced a minimum IQ requirement, so here you are.”

Behind you, Mina cleared her throat sharply.

Jihoon clapped a hand on Wonbin’s shoulder. “Play nice,” he murmured.

Mina slipped her arm through yours, voice low. “Remember what we talked about. Group morale. No banter.”

You bit back three separate comebacks. “He started it,” you said under your breath.

“Don’t care,” she whispered back. “If you murder him on day one, Jihoon’s going to be sad and I’ll be single forever.”

Wonbin’s brows rose as if he’d heard that last part. “I promise I won’t die,” he said easily. “Princess here doesn’t have it in her.”

Your eye twitched.

“Suitcases,” Mina said brightly, louder now. “Let’s get everything inside.”

You dragged yours up the steps, muttering, “If I push him down these stairs by accident, that’s not murder. That’s gravity.”

“Y/n,” Mina hissed.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

Inside, the house was cool and spacious, all wooden beams and big windows. You staked out a bedroom with Mina, unpacked just enough to feel like you weren’t living out of your bag, and changed into your bikini and an oversized T-shirt.

The others congregated in the living room, voices overlapping as everyone talked at once.

“Beach first?” Jihoon suggested.

“Beach first,” the group agreed.

You grabbed your book from your bag—a slightly battered paperback you’d been slowly savoring all semester—and tucked it protectively under your arm as you headed out.

The sand was hot under your feet, the early afternoon sun blazing overhead. Everyone scattered: some ran straight for the water with whoops and shouts, others started setting up towels and umbrellas.

You spread your towel a little distance from the chaos and lay down on your stomach, book propped in front of you. The familiar weight of it in your hands calmed you.

The noise of a volleyball game picking up further down the beach faded into background static as you lost yourself in the words.

You were just getting to a particularly devastating line when a shadow fell across the page.

“You know no one actually reads at the beach, right?” a voice said.

You didn’t even look up. “And yet, here I am, disproving your thesis.”

A low chuckle.

“Come on,” Wonbin said, dropping down in the sand near your towel without invitation. “You bring a book to the beach so everyone thinks you’re mysterious and deep while you stare off into the distance dramatically. You’re doing this all wrong.”

You turned a page deliberately. “Not everything is performative.”

“Says the girl who brought the thickest book she owns and placed it cover-up,” he pointed out.

Your eyes flicked to him, annoyed. “Maybe I like the cover.”

He tilted his head, studying you. There was something softer in his gaze that made your chest feel uncomfortably tight, so you looked away.

“So,” he continued, undeterred, “what are you reading that’s more interesting than inescapable fun with me?”

“You seriously want me to list all the things more interesting than you?” you asked. “We’d be here all day.”

He grinned. “Careful. You’re starting to sound jealous.”

You blinked. “Jealous… of what?”

He sprawled back on his elbows, sunglasses sliding down onto his nose. “Of how much everyone else likes me.”

A laugh burst out of you before you could stop it. You quickly turned it into a scoff. “Please. They’re just gullible. You turn on the charm and they forget you’re a bitch.”

“Or,” he said, voice taking on a teasing lilt, “they think you’re being a little extra about hating me for no real reason.”

A flare of heat licked at your cheeks. You sat up, closing your book. “I have reasons.”

“Name one that doesn’t sound made up,” he challenged.

You opened your mouth.

Silence.

He smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

Before you could respond, Mina’s voice called your name. You turned to see her and Jihoon waving frantically from the volleyball net.

“Swap out with us!” Jihoon shouted. “We need fresh legs!”

You shot Mina a look that said traitor. She mouthed please and made a heart with her hands.

“I’m reading,” you protested weakly.

“Come on,” Wonbin goaded, already getting to his feet. “What, afraid to lose to me again?”

“That implies I’ve ever lost to you,” you said, standing and brushing sand off your legs.

He walked backward toward the net, grinning. “There’s a first time for everything, princess.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, following.

Mina and Jihoon jogged off the court, exchanging a relieved look.

“It’s like distracting two kids with a toy,” Mina muttered to Jihoon as they passed.

You pretended not to hear.

~

The game dragged on for longer than you expected. You forgot, briefly, that you were supposed to be avoiding Wonbin, caught up instead in the rhythm of serve, bump, set, spike. Sweat beaded on your skin, salt sticking to everything.

Wonbin, infuriatingly, was good. His serves were powerful, his reflexes quick. Every time he scored a point, he shot you a cocky grin across the net.

By the time someone finally declared a winning team, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, the light softening.

Of course, his team won.

“Losers,” Jihoon crowed, “go wet yourselves and get sand-bombed. We agreed.”

“Who agreed?” you demanded. “I didn’t agree.”

“You didn’t say no,” Mina sing-songed.

“This is peer pressure,” you muttered as you trudged toward the water, the other “losers” following.

The ocean was cool against your overheated skin. A few of your teammates dunked themselves fully, shrieking at the temperature.

You waded in up to your thighs, glaring murderously at the boys on shore gathering handfuls of sand.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned as you came back up the beach.

Wonbin, holding what looked like an actual bucket of sand, smiled sweetly. “Punishment builds character.”

Before you could escape, he upended the bucket over your head.

Sand rained down your hair, your back, into your bikini, everywhere.

You sputtered, blinking grit out of your lashes. “I hate you,” you informed him.

He laughed so hard he doubled over. “You look like a croquette.”

The others howled with laughter. Even you couldn’t help a disbelieving, half-strangled laugh once you realized how ridiculous you must look.

“You’re dead,” you said, wiping your face. “You know that, right?”

He only winked. “Worth it.”

~

By the time everyone trudged back to the house, the sky had turned pink and gold. You showered quickly, washing what felt like a pound of sand from your hair, then slipped into comfy shorts and a loose top.

The house’s porch was shaded, a faint breeze cutting through the warm air. You curled up on a chair outside, hair still damp, your beloved book in hand again.

The sliding door opened with a soft thud. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“You know, if you sit in silence too long, you might start having thoughts,” Wonbin said, stepping out.

“I already have thoughts,” you replied dryly, eyes on the page. “That’s the problem.”

He leaned against the porch railing, looking out at the glimpse of ocean beyond the dunes. For a moment, he was quiet.

Then, “Jihoon says I’m not allowed to ‘provoke’ you.” He even did the air quotes.

You snorted. “Mina said the same. Something about ‘keeping group morale up.’”

“Apparently we’re exhausting,” he said.

“You are exhausting,” you corrected.

He glanced over, lips twitching. “See? That. Provocation.”

You closed the book with a finger marking your place and finally met his eyes. “You always have some criticism ready. It’s like a reflex. Maybe we just… don’t have compatible personalities. And that’s fine. I’m planning to pretend you don’t exist for the rest of the trip.”

You’d meant it to sound flippant, but the words came out firmer than you expected.

For a flicker of a second, something like disappointment crossed his face. It was gone almost immediately, replaced by his usual lazy amusement.

“Bold of you to assume you can ignore me,” he said lightly. “You’ll get bored and come running back for an argument. You’ll miss me.”

“In your dreams,” you shot back.

He pushed off the railing. “I have very interesting dreams,” he said casually, then slid the door open and disappeared inside.

You stared at the closed door long after he was gone.

Did you seek him out? You thought back—every party, every mutual hangout, every casual gathering. How often did you end up near him? How often did you launch the first barb?

You pressed your thumb harder into your book, annoyed at yourself.

It wasn’t that you liked the arguments. You liked… getting the last word. Putting him in his place. Right?

You reopened your book, determined not to think about it.

~

Dinner was loud and messy. Someone burned the garlic bread, but everyone ate it anyway. Afterward, you all migrated to the living room with drinks and snacks.

Games started: card games, drinking games, dares. Wonbin drifted in and out of your orbit, sometimes sitting across from you, sometimes ending up right beside you on the couch.

Every time your knees brushed, you pretended not to notice.

“Truth or drink,” Jihoon declared at one point, slamming a bottle down on the coffee table.

It devolved quickly.

“Who here would you hook up with?”

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done drunk?”

“How many people have you kissed?”

You answered your share, deflected a few with sips, rolled your eyes a lot. Wonbin answered everything with almost infuriating ease, laughing his way through.

At one point, someone asked him, “Have you ever fallen for someone who hates your guts?”

The room ooohed.

He looked right at you when he answered.

“Not yet,” he said smoothly, taking a sip.

Your throat went dry. You looked away first.

Later, some of the group migrated out to the hot tub. You stayed inside, perched on the arm of an armchair, ostensibly scrolling on your phone but really just… watching.

You hated how often your gaze found him.

He was laughing at something Jihoon said, head thrown back, lips parted, eyes crinkling. He moved so easily, as if his body was made to occupy space like that. There was something magnetic about it, which you resented on principle.

He glanced over suddenly, catching your eye. You snapped your gaze back to your phone.

Smooth.

~

It was late by the time you finally peeled yourself away from the group and headed toward the hallway where the bedrooms were.

You were half-asleep on your feet when a shadow appeared at the end of the corridor.

You almost ran into him.

“Jesus—” you started, stopping short.

Wonbin leaned a shoulder against the wall, blocking your path just enough that you had to either brush past him or step back.

“I noticed you staring,” he said, tone lazy.

Your stomach plummeted. “What?”

“Earlier,” he clarified. “On the couch. By the hot tub door. You kept looking at me.”

You scrambled for logic and came up empty-handed. “I was… looking at everyone.”

He smiled, slow and knowing, like he could see right through you. “Sure.”

You grasped at indignation like a lifeline. “Not everything is about you,” you snapped.

He hummed, amused. “It kind of looked like it was.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You genuinely didn’t have a solid reason, and that unsettled you more than you wanted to admit.

“It’s not what you think,” you managed finally.

“What do I think?” he asked softly.

You scowled. “That I want your attention or something.”

He shrugged, finally straightening up to give you space. “If the shoe fits.”

You shoved past him, heat prickling under your skin. “Go to bed, Wonbin.”

“Goodnight, princess,” he called after you.

You slammed your bedroom door harder than necessary.

Mina, already in bed, looked up from her phone. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” you said, too quickly.

You lay down, staring at the ceiling.

Ignoring him was going to be harder than you thought.

~

The next day dawned bright and hot. You tried to blame the heat for how restless you felt.

Out on the sand again, you staked out your towel right next to Mina and Jia, determined to focus on the water, the sky, literally anything else.

Wonbin jogged by on his way to join another impromptu volleyball match, pausing for just a second.

His gaze skimmed over you from head to toe, lingering for a heartbeat longer than it should have.

“I like your swimsuit,” he said easily. “It’s my favorite color.”

The compliment landed like a pebble in a still pool, sending rings of awareness through you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

He clucked his tongue. “Even when I’m being nice, you act like I’m about to bite you.”

“Force of habit,” you said coolly, reaching for your sunscreen. “You trained me well.”

He shook his head, smiling as he ran off. “Suit yourself.”

You watched him go, jaw tight.

“Y/n,” Jia said, sunglasses perched atop her head as she turned toward you. “He was being nice.”

“Exactly,” you said. “Which is suspicious.”

She laughed, flopping back down. “You exhaust me.”

You rolled your eyes and eventually wandered into the shallows with your friends. The waves lapped at your calves, the water sparkling around you. Further up the sand, the boys were mid-game again.

You tried to tune them out… and failed.

You found yourself watching Wonbin, tracking the way he moved, the easy power behind his spikes.

“Stop staring,” Mina murmured.

“I’m not,” you lied.

She gave you a look. You focused very intently on the water.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Wonbin go for a particularly ambitious hit. The ball flew up, catching the wind.

Too much power, wrong angle.

You followed its trajectory with growing dread.

“Oh no,” you breathed.

The ball arced perfectly toward the cluster of umbrellas where your towels and bags were spread out. And right in the middle of it all, lying face-up on your towel like a vulnerable sacrifice, was your book.

“No, no, no—” you splashed forward, but the ball had already landed, crashing into your things and sending sand spraying.

From the dunes, you saw Wonbin sprinting after it, feet pounding, sand flying. He skidded to a stop right on your towel.

Right on your book.

You watched in horror as his wet, sand-covered foot came down squarely on the paperback.

He froze, looking down.

You saw the exact second realization dawned on his face.

“Oh, he’s dead,” Jia whispered beside you, half-laughing.

Mina grabbed your arm. “Don’t fight,” she said nervously. “It was an accident.”

But you were already pulling away, storming up the sand.

Your heart pounded, rage lighting up your nerves. You barely heard your friends calling after you.

Wonbin bent down and gingerly picked up the book, wincing at the bent cover and creased, dampened pages.

“I can fix it,” he started.

“Don’t touch it,” you snapped, snatching it from his hands.

He flinched at your tone. “It was an accident.”

You held the ruined book up between you like evidence. “You would’ve reacted the same if it were your stupid sunglasses.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Okay, fair,” he admitted.

Your friends had caught up by then, hovering a few feet away.

“Guys,” Jihoon called out, half-laughing, half-worried. “Let’s not—”

“No one needs to see this,” you cut him off sharply, jabbing a finger at Wonbin. “We’re taking it inside.”

The group went quiet.

Wonbin blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” you said, grabbing a handful of his hair at the back of his head and tugging.

He yelped. “Ow—okay, okay!”

You marched him up the beach, ignoring the disbelieving laughter and wolf-whistles behind you.

“You’re going to kill him,” Mina called out.

“He’ll be lucky if you ever see him walking again,” you threw over your shoulder.

Wonbin stumbled along, half-bent to relieve the pull on his scalp. “Is this really necessary?” he complained.

“Yes,” you said.

~

Inside, the air conditioning hit your heated skin, making you shiver. You shoved Wonbin toward the couch.

“Sit,” you ordered.

He flopped down, rubbing the back of his head with a wince. “You’re actually insane,” he muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked, leaning back and spreading his arms along the back of the couch. “You made this whole spectacle about teaching me a lesson. Might as well commit. As long as you don’t make me cry.”

You glared. “I want to hit you over the head, but you’d probably enjoy that.”

He grinned. “Depends how hard.”

You threw your hands up. “See? This is why I hate you.”

You stalked into the kitchen, leaving him confused—but not nearly as confused as you felt.

Your eyes landed on the fruit bowl.

Slowly, a plan formed.

When you came back, you were holding a lime and your phone.

He eyed the lime warily. “Please tell me that’s not going where I think it’s going.”

“You’re going to eat this,” you said, holding it up. “The whole thing. Rind and all. While I film it. If you spit it out, I pinch you... as hard as I want.”

He stared. “Are you in middle school?”

“My book is traumatized,” you retorted. “It deserves justice.”

He gestured at the bedraggled paperback on the coffee table. “You can still read it. It’s just a little… creased.”

“Say that again, and I’ll go cut up your swim trunks,” you threatened.

His eyes widened. “You’re bluffing.”

You took a step toward the hallway.

“Okay, okay,” he said quickly. “Jeez. So, me eating that would actually make you feel better?”

You considered it. “Yes.”

He sighed, grabbed the lime, and bit into it like it was an apple.

You hit record.

The first chew was immediate regret. His whole face contorted.

“Oh my God,” he choked. “This is so bad.”

“Keep going,” you said sternly.

He made an inhuman noise, but complied. Juice dripped down his chin; his eyes watered. You zoomed in mercilessly.

“If you spit it out, I’m pinching you,” you reminded him.

“Y-you’re a sadist,” he managed around a mouthful of citrus and peel.

You bit back a smile. “You ruined my book. Actions have consequences.”

He powered through the last bite like a man on a mission. When he finally swallowed, he collapsed back against the couch, grimacing like he’d just seen God.

You stopped recording.

“Happy?” he croaked.

You set your phone down and, almost without thinking, reached over to pat his head, fingers brushing through his damp hair.

He went very still.

“Yes,” you said simply.

Then you stood, grabbed your book, and headed toward the door.

“Wait,” he called after you, voice faintly hoarse. “You’re just… leaving?”

“You served your sentence,” you replied over your shoulder. “You’re free to go.”

~

When you stepped back onto the porch, the air seemed brighter somehow. You walked down the steps toward the sand where the others were still gathered in a loose circle.

“Where’s Wonbin?” Jihoon asked immediately, half-joking, half-concerned.

“Alive,” you said. “Unfortunately.”

He relaxed.

A minute later, Wonbin emerged from the house, wiping at his mouth like he could scrub away the taste of citrus.

Everyone stared.

“What happened to you?” one of the guys blurted.

He glanced at you, something sparking in his eyes. “I apologized,” he said solemnly. “And I was forgiven.”

There was a chorus of disbelieving laughter.

Later, as the sun dipped and a cooler breeze rolled in, someone brought out more drinks. You all sprawled in deck chairs and on the porch steps, the sky shifting from orange to purple.

Stories began—about classes, professors, embarrassing moments from freshman year.

Inevitably, the lime incident came up.

“Tell it again,” Jia giggled, already tipsy. “I want to hear it from him.”

“Absolutely not,” Wonbin said.

“Yes,” the group countered.

He sighed dramatically. “Okay. So, I accidentally murdered her book with my foot. May it rest in peace.”

“It’s still alive,” you interjected.

He continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “And in a fit of righteous fury, she dragged me inside by the hair—”

“You deserved that,” you said.

“—and made me eat an entire lime, rind and all, on camera, under threat of violence.”

Mina choked on her drink, laughing. “You did what?”

“Show the video,” someone yelled.

You debated for a half-second, then shrugged and pulled it up, passing your phone around.

The porch erupted in screams and cackles as everyone watched his increasingly devastated expressions.

“You’re such a simp,” one of Wonbin’s friends declared between wheezes.

“You really ate the whole thing for her?” Jihoon added, incredulous.

Wonbin took a long swig from his cup, then flicked his eyes to you.

“You have no idea,” he said lightly.

Something in your stomach flipped.

“Y/n,” Jia teased, nudging you. “You look so pleased with yourself.”

You realized you were smiling.

“Because he deserved it,” you said quickly. “Not because—”

“Sure, sure,” she drawled.

You ignored the heat creeping up your neck and took a sip from your own drink.

~

Later, when the crowd started thinning—some people drifting to their rooms, others lying on the couches half-asleep—you headed to bed with Mina.

She changed into her pajamas as you sat on the edge of the bed, fingers picking at a loose thread on the comforter.

“Hey,” you said abruptly. “Do you think he’s… flirting with me?”

Mina paused mid-step. “Wonbin?”

You gave her a look. “No, the other boy I dragged inside by the hair today.”

She climbed into bed opposite you, facing you with interest. “I mean… yeah? I always kind of thought he was.”

You blinked. “What?”

She shrugged. “He only argues with you like that. He remembers everything you say. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. That’s not… nothing.”

You shook your head. “He just likes annoying people.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But don’t you ever feel like there’s… something else?”

Your mind flashed with the image of him looking at you when he’d answered that Truth or Drink question. The way he’d eaten the lime without really fighting back. The way he’d gone quiet for a second when you’d said you’d pretend he didn’t exist.

You swallowed.

“I’ve never even thought about him like that,” you lied.

Mina raised a skeptical brow. “Really? Not even once? He’s literally a campus heartthrob.”

You scoffed. “I have too much self-respect to fall for someone like him.”

She laughed. “You say that like you’re not obsessed with arguing with him.”

“I’m not obsessed,” you protested. “I’m… invested.”

“In what?” she asked gently.

You didn’t have an answer.

Mina sighed, a little dreamy. “I just think it would be cute, that’s all. If you and he actually liked each other, we could go on double dates with him and Jihoon.”

You groaned, flopping back. “I hate you so much right now.”

She turned off the lamp, plunging the room into soft darkness.

“Just think about it,” she murmured.

You stared at the ceiling again, this time with his face stubbornly occupying the space where your thoughts should’ve been.

~

The next morning, you woke up with the distinct feeling of having had a very important dream that you couldn’t quite remember.

It left you unsettled.

Mina’s words replayed in your head as you brushed your teeth, as you pulled on your swimsuit, as you tied your hair up.

If he didn’t like you, would he bother so much?

You thought about every time he’d sought you out. The way he lit up just a little bit more when you threw something back at him. How, even yesterday, when he’d clearly been worried about your wrath over the book, he’d still joked and fumbled his way through that stupid lime challenge.

If he truly didn’t care, he wouldn’t give you all that attention.

An idea slipped in, uninvited and unwelcome—and yet, once there, impossible to shake.

What if you tested it?

You stared at your reflection.

If you pushed, if you turned the tables, if you went as far as you could… would he still be there matching you? Or would he pull away and show you that you’d been right all along—that he was just an asshole who liked to play games?

You dried your hands and made a decision.

If he let you go all the way, you’d know.

And if he didn’t… well. Then at least you’d finally stop wondering.

~

The day unfolded like the one before it, but with one key difference.

You didn’t avoid him.

You sought him out.

At breakfast, you stole the last piece of toast off his plate just as he was reaching for it.

“Hey,” he said, eyebrows shooting up.

“You snooze, you lose,” you replied, biting into it.

His eyes narrowed. “Oh, we’re doing that today.”

“Doing what?” you asked innocently.

He studied you for a long beat, something sharp and curious in his gaze.

“Nothing,” he said at last, a slow grin spreading. “Game on, princess.”

On the beach, you splashed water at him first. When he retaliated, you only went harder, laughing as you ducked under the waves and popped up behind him to push him back down.

You chased him through the shallows, hooked your ankle around his to trip him, shoved him into the water when he least expected it.

He took it all, laughing, eyes bright, like this was the most fun he’d had in ages.

At one point, you climbed onto his back in the water, arms around his shoulders, pushing him under with a victorious whoop.

He surfaced, coughing, hair plastered to his forehead, water streaming down his face.

“You’re actually trying to kill me,” he accused, breathless.

“Maybe I am,” you said, heartbeat thudding oddly at how close your faces were.

He stilled for a fraction of a second, gaze flicking to your mouth and back.

Then he shook his head, swam away, and you followed, relentless.

You could tell he was trying to figure you out.

Good.

~

By mid-afternoon, he was flagging. Even you were starting to feel the burn in your limbs.

“I need a break,” he said finally, pushing wet hair back from his face. “I’m going inside for water before you drown me for real.”

“Coward,” you taunted.

He rolled his eyes, half-smiling, and headed up the beach toward the house.

You watched him go, chest tight with a mix of triumph and something you didn’t want to name.

Then you followed.

The kitchen was cool and bright when you stepped in, the buzz of the fridge loud in the quiet.

Wonbin stood by the counter, back to you, gulping from a bottle of water. He set it down with a sigh, bracing his hands on the countertop, head hanging for a moment like he was trying to pull himself together.

You leaned in the doorway, watching him.

He must’ve sensed you, because he spoke without turning around.

“If you came to drown me in the sink,” he said, voice a little rough, “you’re going to have to wait until I catch my breath.”

You pushed off the doorframe and padded into the kitchen, water still dripping from your hair onto the tile.

“Did you think I was done with you?” you asked softly.

He straightened and turned, eyes widening slightly when he saw how close you were.

“…Honestly?” he said. “Yeah. I was kind of hoping.”

There was a strain in his expression now, a tension in his shoulders. You noticed the way his fingers curled into the counter’s edge, the way his throat worked as he swallowed.

“What more could you possibly do to me today?” he asked, reaching absently for the fruit bowl. He picked up a lemon, holding it up as a joke, a crooked smile on his lips. “I’ll just go ahead and eat this if it means you’ll give me a break.”

You stared at him for a long moment, that same mix of amusement and something hotter pooling low in your stomach.

A laugh slipped out of you, surprised and genuine.

“You’re pathetic,” you said, stepping closer. “I didn’t expect you to give up so easily.”

His smile faltered, something raw flickering in his gaze.

“If you’re trying to give me a taste of my own medicine,” he said quietly, “you’re not playing fair at all.”

You tilted your head. “Unlike you, irking people isn’t really my thing,” you replied. “So I’m sorry if you don’t think it’s fair.”

Your apology didn’t sound very apologetic.

He studied you like he was memorizing you, eyes moving from your damp lashes to the droplets clinging to your collarbone.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s kind of what I’m afraid of.”

You felt something in the air between you shift, going denser, charged.

He was still holding the lemon.

It looked stupid between his fingers, bright yellow and harmless, like this was just another one of your stupid games.

Except it didn’t feel like a game anymore.

You could hear the faint thump of music through the walls, the muffled crash of waves outside. In here, though, it was just you and him and the hum of the fridge.

“You’re pathetic,” you repeated, softer now, watching the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

His hand tightened around the lemon until his knuckles paled. “And yet you still haven’t told me what this is,” he said quietly. “You flipped the script on me and didn’t give me a reason. Why?”

You swallowed, forcing yourself not to look away.

“Why don’t you tell me?” you countered. “You’re the one who’s always analyzing me, right? High and mighty princess, too proud for anyone. Isn’t that what you said?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You remember that?”

You scoffed. “Of course I do. You think I forget every little jab you throw?”

His gaze flicked over your face, lingering on your mouth. “No,” he said slowly. “I guess you don’t forget anything.”

Silence stretched between you, dense and prickly.

He set the lemon down with a dull thud and straightened, like he was bracing himself.

“Look,” he exhaled, “if this is you trying to get back at me for… whatever, congratulations. I’m officially off-balance.” A humorless little smile tugged at his lips. “You win. Again. So what now?”

You stepped into his space before you could overthink it.

Up close, he smelled like salt and sunscreen and something warmer underneath. His chest rose and fell a little too fast.

“Now,” you said, tilting your head, “I keep going until I figure you out.”

His voice dropped. “You think you don’t already know me?”

You searched his eyes. There was the usual teasing spark there, but underneath it… something else. Something you’d been carefully ignoring.

“I think,” you said slowly, “I know the version of you that likes pissing me off.”

“And?” he prompted, barely above a whisper.

“And I want to see what happens when I stop letting you hide behind that,” you finished.

His breath hitched.

For the first time since you’d met him, he didn’t have a comeback ready. No joke, no deflection, no smug little jab.

Just you, reflected back in his eyes, closer than you’d ever let yourself be.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he said at last, voice rough. “All of this. The toast, the water, drowning me, dragging me around like I’m your personal punching bag—”

“You like it,” you cut in.

He huffed out an incredulous laugh. “That’s the problem.”

Heat crept up your neck. “So you admit it.”

He looked down at you, something resigned and fond and exasperated all tangled together.

“Y/n,” he said softly, and your stomach flipped at the way your name sounded in his mouth. “I’ve been admitting it in every stupid way except actually saying it out loud.”

Your heartbeat stuttered.

He let out a breath, almost like he was tired of holding something in.

“You’re right,” he said. “I do think you’re a high and mighty princess sometimes. You overthink everything. You act like liking anybody is… beneath you.” His mouth twisted. “And still, I keep ending up where you are. Every party, every group hang, every stupid beach game. I look for you first. Even when I know you’re just going to roll your eyes and insult me.”

Your fingers curled at your sides, suddenly unsteady.

“You’re not special,” you said, but it came out too thin.

He smiled faintly. “I don’t do this with anyone else.”

You hated how that landed in your chest.

“Then why make fun of me?” you demanded, clinging to the familiar ground of irritation. “Why call me princess and talk about my ‘personality’ like you’re writing a character study?”

He shrugged one shoulder, eyes never leaving yours. “Because if I didn’t, I’d end up flirting with you like everyone else does. And you’d hate that even more.”

You opened your mouth to argue—and stopped.

Would you?

Or was that just what you’d been telling yourself?

“Say something,” he murmured, a hint of nervousness finally bleeding through. “You’re freaking me out.”

You swallowed, throat dry.

“So,” you said carefully, “all the picking on me, all the stupid nicknames, all the times you went out of your way to get on my nerves—”

“Were me being a coward,” he cut in. “Because if I didn’t turn it into a joke, it was going to be obvious.”

“Obvious that you… what?”

He held your gaze, no more room to run.

“That I like you,” he said simply.

The words dropped between you, so plain and serious they didn’t feel real.

You forgot how to breathe for a second.

Something inside you that had been coiled tight for months—maybe years—snapped.

“Then why,” you said slowly, “do you keep acting like an asshole?”

He let out a strained laugh. “Because you respond to that. Because every time I tried to be normal around you, you’d look at me like I’d grown a second head. You only ever looked straight at me when we were fighting.”

That stung more than you wanted to admit.

You’d given him attention, sure. But only the kind fueled by indignation and pride.

And he’d taken it.

Every scrap.

You realized, abruptly, that you were still standing way too close, your bodies only inches apart, his damp skin a line of heat in front of you.

You realized you’d walked him all the way out here, into this quiet, empty kitchen, with some vague plan to “test” him—as if he hadn’t been showing you his answer this whole time.

You realized you weren’t actually sure, anymore, which one of you was the bigger coward.

Your voice came out smaller than you expected. “If I stop making it a joke… what then?”

He searched your face, and whatever he found there made his expression soften.

“Then,” he said, “you can stop pretending you hate me.”

You bristled on instinct. “I never said—”

He stepped closer, close enough that his chest brushed yours when he inhaled.

“You never had to,” he said quietly. “You act like you do. But you don’t avoid me. You don’t shut me down. You don’t walk away when you could.”

His hand lifted, hesitated, then settled very carefully at your hip, fingertips barely pressing into the damp fabric of your swimsuit.

You felt it like a brand.

“If you actually hated me,” he continued, “you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Your pulse roared in your ears.

A part of you wanted to shove him away, toss out some cutting remark, push everything back into the safe territory of banter.

Another part of you—annoyingly loud—wanted to see what happened if you didn’t.

You heard your own voice before you fully decided.

“What if I’m here to keep testing how far you’ll let me go?” you asked, low.

His grip at your hip tightened, just barely.

“Then I should probably tell you,” he murmured, “that you’re playing with fire.”

“Maybe I want to know if you’ll burn me,” you said.

He exhaled a shaky laugh. “You’re unreal.”

You lifted your chin, stubborn. “Are you going to stop me?”

His eyes darkened.

“No,” he admitted. “I’m not.”

That was all the permission you needed.

You slid your hand up, fingers finding the damp skin at the back of his neck. He shivered under your touch.

He was watching you so intently it made your stomach swoop.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you lied, even as your thumb brushed the soft hair at his nape. “I’m just… curious.”

“Sure,” he said, voice gone rough. “Just curiosity.”

You hated how gentle he sounded. You hated how much you liked it.

“Say you’re not going to be weird about it,” you demanded, because control was the only thing you had left.

He huffed out a breath. “You’re about to do something reckless and I’m the one who can’t be weird?”

“Wonbin,” you warned.

His mouth curved. “Fine. I won’t be weird.”

He paused.

“Unless you want me to be,” he added under his breath.

You didn’t give yourself time to react to that.

You tugged him down and kissed him.

For a second, he just… froze.

You almost pulled back, panic clawing up your throat.

Then he exhaled a sound somewhere between a groan and your name, and everything tilted.

His hand at your hip tightened, dragging you flush against him. His other hand came up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone as his mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting for this for a long, long time.

Heat flared low in your stomach, sharp and intoxicating.

He kissed like he argued—confident, unyielding, intent on pushing you just that little bit further than you meant to go.

Except this time, you didn’t mind losing.

Your fingers knotted in the damp hair at the back of his head, holding him there as you deepened the kiss. He made another low sound that went straight through you.

You felt him smile against your mouth.

“Still pretending you hate me?” he murmured between breaths.

“Shut up,” you whispered, and kissed him again to make sure he did.

He obeyed, but his hand slid from your jaw down the line of your throat, lingering over the rapid flutter of your pulse like he was memorizing it.

You’d meant to keep control. You’d meant to test him.

Somehow, without you noticing, he’d taken over.

You broke away first, breathing hard, lips tingling. His forehead rested against yours, eyes closed like he was trying to steady himself.

You could feel the solid press of his body against yours, every line of him warm and real and entirely too much.

“Say something smug,” you managed, voice unsteady. “Get it over with.”

His lashes lifted. He looked at you like you’d put the sun in his hands and then told him not to drop it.

“I’m trying not to scare you off,” he said quietly. “For once.”

Your chest did something unhelpful.

“This doesn’t make us… anything,” you said, clinging to the last of your defenses. “We’re still—”

“Enemies?” he supplied, amused.

You scowled automatically. “I was going to say ‘not whatever you’re thinking.’”

He hummed, thumb tracing idle circles at your hip.

“I’m thinking,” he said slowly, “that you’re going to overthink this to death if I give you any room. So how about this.”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“For now,” he murmured, “we keep it between us. No labels. No big talks. Just you and me, seeing what happens when you stop pretending you don’t want me.”

You shivered.

“You’re very sure of yourself,” you said, but it came out breathless.

“Not really,” he admitted softly. “I’m just sure I’m not done with you yet.”

Your fingers tightened at the back of his neck.

“You’re insufferable,” you whispered.

His smile grazed your cheek.

“And yet,” he said, “you’re still holding on.”

You realized you were.

You didn’t let go.

~

You were still pressed up against the counter, his hand firm at your hip, your fingers tangled in his hair, when the sound of the front door opening sliced through the haze.

The two of you froze.

You heard the familiar tune of a song being hummed. 

Jia.

You and Wonbin sprang apart so fast you almost slipped on the tile.

He caught your elbow on instinct, steadying you. You glared at him like this was his fault, which, to be fair, a good chunk of it was.

You yanked your T‑shirt from the back of a chair and shoved it over your head, trying to smooth your hair with shaking fingers. Your lips still tingled; you could feel his gaze flick down to them and dart away.

Jia rounded the corner a second later, sunglasses perched atop her head and a water bottle in hand.

She looked between the two of you, taking in your flushed faces, your slightly crooked shirt, Wonbin missing one entirely.

Her brows climbed. “What were you two doing?”

You opened your mouth. Nothing came out.

“Staring contest,” Wonbin blurted.

You turned to stare at him. Staring contest?

Jia blinked. “Staring contest.”

He snatched the forgotten lemon off the counter and held it up like a prop. “Yeah, we, uh… challenged each other. Loser gets this squirted in their eye.”

You wanted to die.

Jia’s gaze slid to you, suspicious. “Well, am I interrupting?”

You crossed your arms, willing your heartbeat to slow. “No,” you said, forcing an eye roll. “He’s just being dramatic because he lost and he’s scared.”

Wonbin nodded too fast. “So dramatic. I’m traumatized.”

Jia narrowed her eyes, then smirked. “You two are weird,” she said. “Anyway, are you coming back out? We’re about to start a card game and Mina’s trying to cheat already.”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Just… getting water.”

She shrugged and padded back toward the porch, humming under her breath.

The moment she disappeared, you rounded on Wonbin.

“‘Staring contest?” you hissed.

He winced, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I panicked.”

“You’re an idiot,” you muttered.

He smiled faintly, the edges still a little dazed. “You’re shaking,” he said quietly.

You realized your hands were still trembling. You smoothed out your shirt calmly. “It’s cold in here,” you lied.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Right.”

From outside, someone shouted your name, followed by Mina’s whiney “Hurry uuuup!”

You took a step toward the door, putting space between you.

“We should go,” you said.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

You didn’t look at him as you slid the door open.

You felt his eyes on the back of your neck all the way out to the porch.

~

Back on the beach, it was like nothing had happened.

At least, that was how you were determined to act.

You plopped down on your towel, book in your lap, the text blurring as your mind replayed the last half hour on a loop.

The way his voice had gone quiet when he’d said I like you.
The way he’d eaten the lime just because it made you happy.
The way his hands had settled on you—not possessive, not cocky, just certain.

You’d come into this trip with the absolute conviction that he was an obnoxious flirt who cared more about reactions than people.

He had… not behaved like that.

You’d taunted him, tested him, tried to shake him. He’d let you drag him inside, let you punish him, let you push him around in the water. He’d confessed first. He’d tried, in his own backwards way, to make it less scary for you.

Unconventional methods, you thought, a little hysterical. But he got what he wanted.

He wanted you to take him seriously. And now, annoyingly, it was working.

You watched him from the corner of your eye as he mingled with the others—laughing at some joke from Jihoon, reaching for a drink, moving through the group with his usual easy charm.

Except now you could see all the ways his attention slid back to you, subtle as he thought he was being. A glance when someone mentioned your name. The way his smile shifted, softer, when your eyes accidentally met.

The new weight of those looks made your skin prickle.

You were hooked.

You didn’t want to be. You could feel your pride protesting, scrambling for excuses. You barely knew how to navigate people you liked normally, let alone someone you’d built an entire personality around disliking.

But the idea of this new version of him—of you and him—clung to you like salt.

Foreign. Fascinating.

Terrifying.

Throughout the evening, you both pretended.

Mina dragged you into a card game; you lost horribly and accused her of conspiring with Jihoon. Jia did a run to the kitchen for snacks and came back with enough junk food to feed a small army. Someone put on music, and there was a brief, chaotic attempt at a dance party in the living room.

Wonbin was never far, but never too close. He’d sit across the circle, leaning back against the couch, legs stretched out. He’d call you out when you tried to cheat, tease you when you lost, roll his eyes when you rolled yours.

On the surface, it was the same old script.

Underneath, everything had changed.

Every time your knees brushed under the low table, your heart jumped. Every time you glanced up and found him already looking, your stomach swooped.

He didn’t push. Didn’t corner you, didn’t say anything loaded in front of the others.

He just kept catching your gaze and holding it a second too long, the corners of his mouth softening like there was some shared joke hanging between you that no one else could see.

By the time people started drifting toward their rooms, the sky outside was ink‑dark and your head felt pleasantly fuzzy from sun and laughter and one too many drinks.

You yawned, stretching your arms over your head.

“I’m actually dead,” Jia groaned from the couch. “If I don’t sleep twelve hours, I’ll pass away.”

“You say that every night,” Mina said, but she sounded tired too.

You gathered your things—phone, book, a hoodie someone had abandoned—and headed toward the hallway.

You’d almost made it to your bedroom door when a hand appeared above your shoulder, pressing lightly against the wall just beside it.

You stopped short.

“Relax,” Wonbin said softly, stepping into the narrow space between you and the wall.

Your back was inches from the door; his chest was inches from yours. It felt like that kitchen all over again, but this time the hall was darker, quieter, the only light coming from the strip under the living room door.

Your pulse jumped.

“We’re in a hallway,” you hissed. “Anyone could see.”

He hummed. “That sounds familiar.”

You shot him a look. “Don’t start.”

He didn’t. Not with words, anyway.

His fingers brushed yours, just a ghost of a touch, then slid against your palm, offering. Without thinking, you let your hand fall into his. He squeezed once, like he couldn’t help it.

The simple contact made your throat go dry.

“Y/n,” he said quietly.

You hated how much warmer your name sounded from him now.

“What?” you whispered.

He leaned down, his breath brushing your ear. “I’d like to continue where we left off,” he murmured. “Before we were so rudely interrupted.”

Heat shot through you.

You fought to keep your voice steady. “You’re impatient.”

He laughed under his breath. “I’ve been patient for months.”

You stilled. “Months?”

He pulled back just enough for you to see his face. There was no smugness there, no joke. Just that open, slightly vulnerable look from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he said simply. “You’re just finally letting me do something about it.”

Your heart did something traitorous.

You swallowed. “If we do this now, someone will catch us,” you said, trying to be rational. “Do you know how thin these walls are? If Mina walks in and sees—”

He cut you off with a tiny grin. “I can work something out.”

“That’s not comforting,” you muttered.

He squeezed your hand again, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Just… don’t fall asleep too early,” he said. “Okay?”

You gave him a flat look. “That’s your master plan?”

“For now.” His smile tilted, equal parts mischief and promise. “Trust me.”

You opened your mouth to tell him you absolutely did not trust him.

Instead, you heard yourself say, “Fine.”

His grin went feral.

“I won’t need that long,” he said.

The implication made your face heat. You slapped his chest lightly. “Be serious.”

“We’ll see,” he replied, and then he was backing away, disappearing down the hall with a soft, “Goodnight, princess,” tossed over his shoulder.

Your skin buzzed long after he was gone.

~

You’d barely had time to wash your face, brush your teeth, and pull on an oversized sleep shirt before Mina burst into the room, squealing.

You jumped, nearly stabbing your eye with your hairbrush.

“What?” you demanded.

Mina bounced onto the bed, clutching her phone like it was a winning lottery ticket.

“He texted me,” she half‑whispered, half‑screeched.

You blinked, heart lurching for reasons that had nothing to do with her. “Who?”

She gave you a look. “Jihoon, obviously.”

Of course. Jihoon, who shared a room with Wonbin.

Your pulse picked up for a completely different reason.

“What did he say?” you asked, trying to sound normal.

Mina thrust the phone at you. A message glowed on the screen:

Jihoon 🏄‍♂️: hey, you still awake?
Jihoon 🏄‍♂️: come to my room? we can talk without everyone yelling over each other lol

Mina kicked her feet like a teenager in a drama. “Talk, he says,” she giggled. “Do you think he means… talk?”

You thought about Wonbin’s face in the hallway. I can work something out.

You swallowed a laugh that was half nerves. “Only one way to find out,” you said.

Mina flopped back dramatically. “But what if it’s weird? What if I go and he’s like, ‘So anyway, about this group project from freshman year—’”

“Mina,” you cut in gently. “You’ve been flirting for months. He’s not calling you in there to discuss academic policy.”

She covered her face with a pillow, muffling a scream. “I’m gonna throw up.”

“You are not,” you said, prying the pillow away. “You’re going to go in there, hang out, and if at any point you’re uncomfortable, you pretend you’re sleepy and leave. Simple.”

She peered up at you. “You really think I should go?”

Guilt and excitement warred in your chest.

Because you knew exactly why this invitation had materialized at this particular moment.

You also knew how badly Mina wanted this.

“Yes,” you said firmly. “Go.”

Mina squealed again, launched off the bed, and scrambled to fix her hair in the mirror.

“You’re a good friend,” she said, slapping on lip balm.

You forced a smile. “Obviously.”

When she finally squeezed you in a quick hug and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click, the silence that followed throbbed with anticipation.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the door.

He wouldn’t actually…

A knock sounded, barely a minute later.

You jumped.

“Y/n?” came the low voice from the other side.

You exhaled, heart hammering. “You’re insane,” you muttered, standing.

You cracked the door open just enough to see him. The hallway behind him was empty, dim.

Before you could get a single word of scolding out, he shouldered his way in, kicked the door shut with his heel, and his mouth was on yours.

All the arguments you’d been lining up evaporated.

He kissed you like he’d been thinking about it every second since the kitchen—no tentative testing this time, no caution. Just heat and relief and a kind of hungry determination that made your knees go weak.

You made a sound into his mouth, half protest, mostly something else.

“I was going to yell at you,” you mumbled when you managed to breathe.

He laughed against your lips. “You can yell at me later,” he said, already chasing another kiss. “I’ll even let you win.”

“You used my best friend as a distraction,” you accused, even as your hands were already fisting in his shirt.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and serious in the low light.

“Do you really think I’d set her up with some guy who wasn’t going to treat her right?” he asked softly. “I’m not the only one who’s been waiting.”

That shut you up.

He watched your expression flicker, something like understanding settling in.

Then his gaze dropped to your mouth again.

“Can we get back to the part where you were doing that thing with your hands?” he asked, voice going rough.

You huffed. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re the one who decided you like me anyway.”

You hated how true that felt.

You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him closer.

This time, nothing slowed you down.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, just like he had wanted, lips moving against his, rushed and heated. He made a disgruntled noise, pulling your waist toward him, leaving no space between you. Your bodies were hot and buzzing with a tension that was ready to tip over the edge. 

Both of you stumbled backward, clumsily dropping onto the bed. Wonbin was quick to hoist you up, climbing over you while pulling your shirt clean off your body. He gave you no time to feel conscious of your nakedness, fingers cupping the swell of your breasts as his thigh slotted between your legs. 

Something burned, low in the pit of your stomach. You arched your back into his touch, inviting him for more. His tongue slid over yours deliberately, making your toes curl. You dragged your mouth away just long enough to suck in a breath. He chased you, lips landing at the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the hinge of your jaw.

Your head fell back, a helpless sound escaping you as his mouth found a spot under your ear, teeth scraping lightly.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your skin. “You have no idea.”

“Prove it,” you breathed, voluntarily reaching to slip your underwear off. 

“Fuck, y/n.”

Wonbin sat up just enough to take you in completely. A drunken expression washed over his face. His lips were glistening, eager hands tracing your thighs, trailing down your legs. He couldn’t decide what he wanted to do to you first. You could see the impatience in his eyes.  

You felt it too.

He started by rolling his tongue over your nipples. They were hard and sensitive. He sucked and released them with a salacious pop, the sound making your head spin. 

You sensed him moving away from you yet again, but this time you weren’t going to let it happen. You rose with him, fingers hooking into the hem of his shirt, urging him to shrug it off. 

As his shirt fell to the floor, you kissed him hard, digging your palms into his firm shoulders. 

“Pants too,” you followed. 

In this moment, to you, he was absolutely irresistible. 

He groaned in accordance and pushed his shorts down in one swift motion. You could see how uncomfortably tight his boxers looked. Your hands went there instantly, teasing, exploring.

Wonbin bit your lip in protest as he fell back over you. Feeling his weight on top of you made your heart hammer wildly in your chest. 

Before you could think, the words rolled off your tongue like they had been sitting there forever. 

“Fuck me. Now.” 

The moisture between your legs was an indication enough that you were ready for him. And you knew exactly where he stood. 

He fumbled with his boxers, and you gasped when his cock pulsed against your pussy. His eyes watched you carefully as he slowly entered you, fighting to remain focused the deeper his cock went. 

It stole your breath away. 

Your eyes rolled back, head falling slack against the pillow you were lying on.

He started slowly, hips moving steadily, as if he were savoring the feeling before he let greed take control. 

You were so warm and so tight. Wonbin sucked in a sharp breath, speeding up ever so slightly. 

He left a hand planted by your ear, the other cupping your neck, thumb sliding over your throat, where he felt the shallow reverberations of your quiet moans. 

He leaned in closer, needing to hear more. 

Maybe it was because you remembered where you were, or maybe because he was tapping into a part of your subconscious you never thought would surface, but Wonbin couldn’t stand that you were holding yourself back.

 His hips jerked forward, the movement harsh. 

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, and he did it again, the faintest smirk painting his parted lips. 

His thumb traced your lip as he began fucking you harder. You let it slip into your mouth, sucking desperately. That only spurred him on further.

“Oh, princess,” he moaned, his pace unrelenting. He was pounding into you now. “You feel so good.” 

Even though your mouth was occupied, urgent whines spilled from you. There was no stopping them. 

Wonbin pulled his thumb away so that he could hear you unobstructed. Even you were shocked by just how loud you were. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had made you feel like this. 

No one had come close.

“Say my name.” 

You gave in, though it wasn’t easy, sputtering his name between labored breaths. It drove him mad. He didn’t want to hear anything else. 

You felt his temple press against your cheek, a thin layer of sweat lining his skin. Your fingers curled into his hair, holding him close so that his hot breath tickled your neck. 

He was close. Even if he finished now, he knew he wasn’t done with you yet. He needed more. 

He was fast to pull out of you. Seconds later, his cum was dripping onto your stomach, warm and cloudy. His groans, deep and raspy, were invigorating. 

Your chest rose and fell vehemently. He let his cock slide against your pussy, softer now, but still bold. 

Wonbin turned you on your side and fell into place behind you, his strong chest pressed to your back. Instinctively, you bent your knees and pushed your ass against his cock, feeling the blood gradually rush back into it as he splayed wet kisses over your shoulder. 

“One more time,” he whispered into your ear, raising your leg so he could slip right back into you. His other arm wrapped around your chest, fingers pinching your breasts and nipples. 

You craned your neck around, lips searching for his. They found yours earnestly, his kisses messy and fervent. 

As if he had never stopped, he started again. 

~

Later, with your clothes scattered on the floor and the room dim and quiet around you, you lay on your back staring at the ceiling, lungs still trying to remember how to function.

Wonbin’s arm was draped over your waist, his chest warm and solid against your side. His breathing was a little uneven too.

Silence stretched, full but not uncomfortable.

“We’re dead if Mina comes back early,” you said eventually, voice low.

He hummed. “We’ll hear her.”

You weren’t so sure.

He must’ve seen the doubt on your face, because he sighed and pushed himself up on one elbow.

“Fine,” he said. “We’ll check.”

He grabbed his discarded shorts from the floor and dragged them on, hair a mess, skin still flushed. You pulled your shirt back over your head, heart doing that annoying jumpy thing again at the sudden domestic mundanity of it.

He cracked the door open carefully, peering into the hallway.

You eased up beside him, peeking over his shoulder.

From down the hall, muffled and unmistakable, came a breathy, stifled laugh followed by a low male voice you recognized as Jihoon’s.

You both froze.

“Yeah,” Wonbin said quietly. “She’s not coming back.”

You covered your face with one hand, equal parts mortified and relieved. “I did not need to know that.”

He shut the door again, locking it this time for good measure.

When he turned back, he was smiling.

“So,” he said, climbing back onto the bed beside you. “I can stay?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can stay as long as you’re gone before Mina wakes up,” you warned. “If she sees you here, we’re both dead.”

“Noted.” He settled beside you, arm sliding back around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You hesitated a second, then let yourself relax into him, head finding his shoulder.

The room felt smaller now, cozier somehow. The ocean’s constant shush filtered through the walls; someone laughed faintly in another part of the house. Here, everything felt oddly still.

“So,” you said, staring at the shadowy outline of his hand on your stomach. “What now?”

He was quiet for a moment, thumb drawing idle patterns on your side.

“When we get back to the city,” he said finally, “I want to take you out.”

You blinked. “Out?”

“On a date,” he clarified. “Like, a real one. Food, maybe a movie, me pretending I’m not already stupid about you.”

Your heart lurched.

“Confident,” you muttered.

He huffed a laugh. “Terrified, actually.”

You turned your head to look at him. In the soft half‑dark, he didn’t look like the overconfident flirt you’d built up in your mind. He just looked… young. Hopeful. A little scared.

“Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“Because,” he said slowly, “you’ve spent this entire time convinced that you’re too good for me. And I don’t want you to wake up one day and decide you were right.”

That knocked the air out of you more than any kiss had.

You stared at him, throat tight.

“You really think I’m that horrible?” you asked quietly.

His eyes widened. “No. God, no. I think you’re… picky. And proud. And terrified of being wrong about people. Big difference.”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“I also think,” he added, softer now, “that you’re the smartest person in any room we’re in, and that you make me want to be less of a dumbass. For whatever that’s worth.”

You swallowed around a lump in your throat.

“Don’t say things like that,” you muttered. “It makes it hard to keep my guard up.”

“That’s kind of the point,” he said.

You glared at the ceiling so you wouldn’t have to look at him for a second.

“What if I say no?” you asked. “To the date.”

He exhaled, not dramatically, just honestly. “Then I’ll be disappointed. And I’ll try really hard not to be weird about it.”

“You’re bad at not being weird,” you pointed out.

“Yeah,” he said. “But I’d still try.”

You were quiet for a beat.

“Okay,” you said finally.

He frowned. “Okay what?”

“Okay, you can take me out,” you said, staring resolutely at the ceiling. “Once. We’ll see how insufferable you are in public.”

There was a pause. Then his arm tightened around you.

“Deal,” he said, voice a little too bright.

You wanted to say you regretted it already.

You didn’t.

“Go to sleep,” you grumbled instead.

“Yes, princess,” he said.

You elbowed him lightly. He just laughed and pressed a quick, soft kiss to the top of your head, like he’d done it a thousand times.

Your heart did that stupid thing again.

You drifted off eventually, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you under.

~

When you woke up, the other side of the bed was empty.

For a split second, panic flared. Then you saw the indentation in the pillow, the faint warmth left on the sheets, and heard the sound of running water from the bathroom.

The door opened a moment later and Mina emerged in a cloud of steam, towel wrapped around her hair.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said, grinning.

You squinted at her, brain still booting up. “Why are you so cheerful?”

She wiggled her brows. “We both seem to have had a good night.”

Your heart stuttered. “What?”

She crossed to her suitcase, digging for clothes. “I didn’t get back until, like, four,” she said happily. “And when I finally snuck in, you were starfished across the whole bed like a corpse. Out cold. And there was someonestuck underneath you.”

She shot you a pointed look and winked.

Heat rushed to your face.

“Well,” you said, scrambling for dignity, “he had to sleep somewhere.”

She snorted. “Uh‑huh. Sure.”

You ducked your head, hiding a smile.

“Anyway,” she continued, pulling on a T‑shirt, “we have to be out by eleven, so start packing, lover girl.”

You threw a pillow at her. She dodged, cackling.

The morning blurred into organized chaos.

Everyone moved through the house with that particular end‑of‑trip energy—tired but wired, arms full of bags and leftover snacks, calling dibs on who got which shower.

You caught only flashes of Wonbin: him hauling a suitcase down the stairs, him laughing at something one of his friends said, him helping Jihoon wrestle with an overstuffed duffel.

His eyes found yours once, across the living room.

He didn’t wink or smirk. He just smiled, a small, private thing that made your chest feel too tight.

You looked away first, cheeks warm.

The driveway was a jumble of cars and people as everyone loaded their luggage.

Jia slammed the trunk of your car shut. “Shotgun,” she declared.

“You had shotgun on the way here,” Mina protested.

Jihoon wandered over, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, actually,” he said, “Mina, do you… want to ride with us?”

Mina’s face lit up like someone had flipped a switch. “Yeah,” she said, a little too quickly. Then she glanced at you, checking.

You swallowed a grin. “Go,” you said. “Jia and I will survive.”

She squealed, hugged you briefly, then scurried off toward Jihoon’s car.

“Traitor,” Jia muttered, but she was smiling. 

Then, something dawned on you. “But doesn’t that mean someone from their car’s gotta switch with us?”

“I can switch cars,” Wonbin offered.

You whipped around. “No.”

Everyone looked at you.

You cleared your throat. “I mean, that’s not necessary,” you amended. “We’re fine.”

He sauntered closer, hands in his pockets, looking annoyingly unbothered. “It’s either me or one of the guys who sings off‑key to the same three songs the entire drive,” he pointed out. “I’m taking one for the team here.”

Jia clasped her hands dramatically. “Wow, what a hero,” she said.

You glared at him. He met your eyes, amusement flickering there.

“I promise I’ll sleep the whole way,” he added, more for the group’s benefit than yours. “You won’t even know I’m there.”

“Bold promise,” Jia said. “You snore?”

“If he snores,” you cut in, “I’ll suffocate him.”

“See?” he said cheerfully. “Group safety and accountability.”

The others laughed, already moving toward their cars.

Somehow, Jia ended up in the driver’s seat with you in the back and Wonbin sliding right next to you like this was the most normal thing in the world.

He leaned back, buckled in, and pulled one of the spare jackets from the back, tossing it over himself like a makeshift blanket.

“Wake me when we’re halfway,” he said lightly.

You rolled your eyes as Jia started the engine. “If you drool on my shoulder—”

“You’ll what?” he asked, eyes half‑lidded.

You hesitated. “Make you eat another lime,” you said.

He grinned, then let his head rest back against the seat, eyes sliding shut.

The first stretch of highway was quiet.

Jia put on a podcast episode almost immediately, mumbling something about catching up on her playlist. The hum of the car, the rush of wind, and the distant sound of waves fading in the rearview mirror created a weirdly soothing backdrop.

Wonbin stayed still beside you, eyes closed, jacket pulled up to his chest.

You focused on the cars outside, knuckles gripping a little too tightly on your seatbelt.

You were acutely aware of how close his knee was to yours. Of the way his hair fell a little into his eyes. Of the faint marks you’d left on his collarbone peeking out from his T‑shirt neck.

You told yourself he really had fallen asleep.

Then you felt it.

His fingers, sliding under the edge of the jacket, found your thigh.

You nearly screamed.

He didn’t grab, didn’t squeeze. Just rested his hand there, warm and solid, thumb brushing the inside of your leg in a slow, barely‑there stroke that made your breath catch.

From the front seat, Jia hummed in agreement along to something from the podcast.

You darted a glance sideways.

Wonbin’s eyes were still closed, lashes resting on his cheeks. The picture of innocence.

“You’re not sleeping,” you muttered under your breath.

His mouth twitched. “I’m resting my eyes,” he said quietly.

“You should try being more slick,” you hissed.

“And you should take a chill pill,” he replied.

You wanted to smack him.

Instead, your iron-clad grip on the seatbelt faltered for a moment—just long enough to slide the jacket closer on your lap. You let your hand meet his underneath.

His fingers stilled, then laced with yours.

You squeezed, once.

He squeezed back.

A slow, helpless smile tugged at your lips as the miles stretched ahead, the road unspooling toward the city and whatever came next.

You’d come on this trip determined to prove he was exactly who you thought he was.

Turns out, you’d been wrong.

And for the first time, that didn’t feel like a loss.

It felt like the start of something.